A/N – This story takes place during the second movie, the morning of the day Shrek and Fiona arrive at the palace in Far Far Away. Also King Harold is not a frog in this story, nor was he ever. The fairy godmother has no deal with him- but she did have plans for Prince Charming to marry Fiona. Oh one more thing- King Harold is a bit taller- We do not like him being shorter than Queen Lillian. Please review if you enjoyed the chapter. If you did not...refrain from flaming us...or we will be sad...(

Chapter I

Great Expectations

The cold harsh wind blew through the palace balcony's open doors. A large canopy bed with emerald green curtains shook slightly as the icy blast tore at the covers and sheets. The sole occupant of the bed moaned softly beneath the triple layer of blankets and rolled over.

"Close the doors, please." King Harold groaned from the bed. No response was forthcoming; so he slowly sat up to look about him. Sleep filled eyes met an empty bedroom and Harold groaned again. His blue bathrobe hung on the rack by the bed and he quickly slipped in on.

Another blast of frozen air assaulted the king as he made his way to the balcony. With his hair blown back, his robes tangling and his bare feet freezing, Harold slammed the thick balcony doors and rested against them.

"Good morning, darling!" A cheerful Queen Lillian strolled into the room from the hallway. She froze when the sight of her windswept husband met her eyes. With an expression caught between astonishment and amusement, she stared at him. "Good gracious, Harold! What happened?"

It took every bit of the king's self control to not shout the answer. However, he knew that his wife had not meant to leave the balcony doors open and it had not been her fault that she had not been there to shut them.

"The. Balcony. Doors. Were. Not. Closed." He said slowly between clenched teeth.

"Oh." Queen Lillian smiled as she walked toward him. "I thought something terrible had happened."

"What! Something terrible did happen!"

"Oh, Harold. Always the drama king. It was only the wind."

"Yes, but I had to leave the bed!" Harold almost pouted. He was so tired from his late night that he could barely even think straight.

"Tush, you should have left the bed ages ago. Besides, don't you want to eat breakfast with me?" She took his arm and led him back to the bed.

"Yes, my dear. However, such an awakening was not welcomed. When did you get up?" the queen laughed.

"It might have been uninvited but was nonetheless useful. Maybe I should leave the doors open every night." The pleading look Harold sent her caused Lillian to recant. "I was only kidding, darling."

"Hurry and get dressed. Breakfast has been ready for a good hour." She kissed him gently on the forehead and swept out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Moments later-

King Harold buckled his belt over his over tunic and sighed. The belt barely held in his belly bulge. He had been watching his weight; but the oncome of becoming older combined with frequent bouts of inactivity had turned his normally flat stomach into a pouch. Still he was grateful that no one mentioned diets or exercise plans to him.

Finally slipping his shoes on, he hurried down the hall into their private sitting room. A small table sat between two well-cushioned chairs, laden with food for the monarchs. The king took his seat and sighed at the comfort of the rosy fire behind him.

"Tea?" Queen Lillian asked softly raising the teakettle she held. He nodded and held out his cup for her to fill. "Is something the matter?" she asked, concern knitted through her words.

"No, nothing is the matter. It is just… today Fiona comes home."

Queen Lillian's teacup slipped from her hand and crashed onto the floor, breaking. Harold leapt out of his chair and rushed to his wife's side. She was shaking slightly and tears were already trickling down her cheeks.

Harold said nothing as he gathered her into his arms and held her close. Their daughter's departure had been very difficult for Lillian. In the first few years, she had not even been able to pass Fiona's empty room without breaking down. As time had passed, she had been able to hide her grief better. Still even now Fiona's name brought Lillian grief akin to years past.

She did not shake and cry because her daughter turned into an ogre at night. Lillian wept because she blamed herself for Fiona being locked away in a tower. Of course, it wasn't her fault at all, but Harold knew that if he told her that the blame would shift to the only other person it could shift to, himself. The last thing he wanted was his beloved wife hating him. Still it broke his heart to see her in such pain and it was his hope that Fiona's return would change that.

"It will be all right." He whispered. The light crying escalated into uncontrollable sobbing and Harold felt as though the woman he was holding might collapse any given moment.

Breakfast forgotten, the king and queen sat. Harold holding Lillian tightly while she buried her face into his tunic front and sobbed. Time slowly passed and soon her sobs died down to a decisive sniffle. Suddenly Harold felt her go limp in his arms and he looked down to find she had fallen asleep.

Using his handkerchief, the king wiped the queen's tear stained cheeks. He watched her sleep for a brief moment. Her chest rose and fell gently; an uninterrupted cycle. Her eyes were closed, but slightly puffy from the intense crying she had done. Harold lifted her from the chair and carried her back into their bedroom.

After laying her gently on the bed, Harold pulled off her shoes and covered her with the thick coverlet. She sighed gently and he thought for a brief moment that she had woken up. But instead of opening her eyes, Lillian turned over on to her side. Harold smiled and undid the golden net that held his wife's hair up. Her crown followed the thick netting and Harold ran a hand over her blonde hair.

As he sat on the edge of their bed watching his wife sleep, Harold hoped and prayed that Fiona and Prince Charming's arrival would take away his wife's grief. Then again, it would do wonders to his own guilty conscious. He was truly responsible for his daughter's imprisonment and in a way his wife's pain. Harold sighed.

"Today will be a day to remember." He said softly.