Author's Note: Told you there'd be more canon character drabbles soon! Hahaha.

Here, we have a series of song drabbles detailing the thought process of the Witch (or Giovanna as I call her), both during scenes in the original play and in my headcanon, to give you a taste of what I have planned for the future (I'm telling you- Development. Hell. But you CAN find out about the character named Rampion on my deviantart page! Yay shameless self-promotion!). The Witch is pretty much my favorite character to write about, I think. Hope you enjoy!

I promise the next update to this won't be more song drabbles, but I hope you enjoy these for now.

I also wanna take this opportunity to say that all my Into the Woods fics, unless otherwise stated, are strictly original cast broadwayverse. Don't get me wrong, I liked the movie immensely, but no portrayal will ever top the originals for me. Therefore, if I reference something that didn't happen/happened differently in the movie and is canon in the play, that's why. Enjoy!

The Witch Drabbles

Heaven's Light (The Hunchback of Notre Dame soundtrack)

Artist: Tom Hulce

She had never thought that it could ever happen for her; everyone said nobody could love a Witch, and she hadn't felt herself very lovable anyway. Yet a boy from the village had fallen into her life, into her garden, and had kissed her without a trace of fright. Maybe she, too, could have her Wish…

Room of Angels

Artist: Silent Hill

You couldn't really describe Giovanna's reaction to her mother's execution as "mourning." The Witch had never felt enough for her to cry over the pile of ashes that lay at the stake as the townspeople dispersed to the tavern to celebrate the death of the terror of their town. No, a better word for it would have been "shock." For all her life, she had never thought that the woman who had ignored and belittled her would ever be gone. After all the years she had spent tending the beans, she never thought the responsibility for them would ever be completely hers. She had never thought she would be free of the despised woman, and now, finally, her disgusting familiar as soon as she could chuck him out of the house, which she intended to at the next opportunity. Yet now she was free and unsure how to react.

The beans were now hers, as was the punishment if one of them should be lost. She was the mistress of her house now. Perhaps, wherever she was, mother was happy without her. And yet she felt some twinge of… something! She didn't feel enough for her to cry and never would she, but she felt like she owed her the attention that the woman never gave, the attention she had been swearing to herself for years that she would someday give her own child. So she sat there, gathering as many of the ashes as she could before they blew away and trying to make sense of her thoughts.


Artist: Heather Dale

Throughout her life, Giovanna had been hated. Spurned. Rejected. Her mother hadn't wanted to have her- when the Witch wasn't commiserating with her familiar or making potions, she was loudly regretting that night around the fire with the coven when her daughter was conceived. She saw her as only a source of protection for the beans, a burden she fully passed on when burned at the stake. The villagers looked for any excuse to do the same to Giovanna, and her lover, a boy from the village, a young Baker, eventually left her too, leaving her with child- a child she would soon lose. There were times the Young Witch hated her life, she really did.

However, she was to have her day, er night, when she found her lover again, in her garden stealing her lettuce. Giovanna smiled wickedly. She knew he couldn't stay away.

Your Daddy's Son

Artist: Audra MacDonald

The baby never cried, nor would she ever. She, female, a girl. The baby girl that Giovanna had been looking forward to, the baby girl that would be the last testament to her love with the young baker, the baby girl that she would now never have. The baby whose father would probably never know that she existed- Giovanna hadn't seen Frexspar almost since the child was conceived. He was probably out somewhere, she didn't know where or if he was coming back. The world had probably won against the Witch.

"Sleep, Rampion," the Witch whispered as she placed the body in a small grave under a tree in the garden. Somehow, she knew that the baby's death symbolized the end.

Legal Assassin

Artist: Anthony Stewart Head

Many years had passed. That couldn't be denied. But the pain was as real as it was that day a long time ago, with the lighting flash and the beans, and as plain as the aging signs on her face.

First she hadn't been able to save her mother. Then the mortal she'd loved left her. Now this, this awful curse of claws and a hunch that couldn't be removed with all the power in the world, not without the help of a certain potion whose ingredients she couldn't gather. She felt helpless and lost. Powerful witch though she was, she felt she was living a lie.

All Giovanna had now was her adopted- stolen, rather- child and her vengeance curse, the curse that effectively assassinated the theif's family by rendering them barren. It was both precise and perfect, she felt, and nothing less than could reasonably be expected under the circumstances in her eyes.

Der Holle Rache (the Queen of the Night Aria) (The Magic Flute)

Artist: Erika Miklosa

The mortals would pay for what they had done to her. Especially for what they had done to her daughter. That Prince had not deserved her; he had proven that soon enough when he betrayed her for some snow-skinned idiot from another kingdom. She had heard he didn't mourn her death for a moment.

She had tried to warn the girl. But no matter. Mother would make things right.

The potion she would need to regain her powers was a difficult one to come by, but she would one day have what she needed. As soon as her powers returned, she would smite down that philandering prince; sooner, if she could find a way to do it without getting herself executed. Hi s son too, before he could grow to be the same. All she needed was the perfect chance, and she would strike.

Hellfire (The Hunchback of Notre Dame soundtrack)

Artist: Tony Jay

Years had passed since she had seen him, his- their- her daughter had grown into a woman, and still her feelings were the same. She hated him, she really did, yet she loved him still. She would never forgive him stealing her beans- she made that much clear when she zapped him in the groin in the woods, but the glint in his eyes still blazed in her. She couldn't get the thought of him, his wrongs, and their love out of her mind- although she was the Witch; he must have put a spell on her. And now another, no doubt as double-crossing man was apparently after her daughter. She'd lost him, she'd lost her biological child, she'd lost the beans, she'd lost her beauty… she wasn't going to lose Rapunzel too. She would keep her daughter. She would keep her if she had to banish her to the ends of the Earth to do it. It was Rapunzel's turn now- to choose her mother over her prince or to lose everything.

What If

Artist: Emilie Autumn (Enchant)

I'm the Witch. They're the world.

Those were the thoughts that continually ran through Giovanna's mind as she listened to the mortals blaming each other in turn for the fact that there was a giantess in their midst and many people were dead; the thoughts in her head as they turned on her for being the one who grew the beans in the first place. Of course it was always the witch's fault. It didn't matter that Jack was the one who climbed the stalk, Cinderella threw away the beans, the Baker 's father had stolen the beans in the first place, Little Red dared Jack to go up the stalk a third time or the Baker's Wife traded the fifth bean for a shoe. It was her fault regardless, because she grew the beans. Never mind that they all had to get the beans.

Never mind that her loss arguably pained her more than theirs combined. Her beautiful daughter, squashed, without ever being reconciled to her.

She was not nice, or good, but right. And they were all liars and thieves, no matter how "nice" they might say they were.