It's a Happily Ever After, After All
The resistance group within the castle had been active since I had come into power. I had released so many castle staff because of where their loyalty aligned. Clearly I had not sent away enough. They fed information out. They spied on me. They were planning their attack from the moment the freaks left the dungeon. They were waiting for me to release Fiona. They wanted to lie low. They wanted an instant kill. They didn't want to miss. They didn't want this to happen. I relayed all the information I had just gained to myself. Again. My armour was heavy on me. The dungeons seemed colder than usual, yet I had been sweating. I would call someone to draw me a bath. I hadn't slept. Perhaps that would help. My world was collapsing around me. Who could sleep through that?
They tried to defy me, they tried to stand up to me. But I broke them, one by one. That was good. I was begging myself not to ask for information, yet I did. They reluctantly told me everything that had happened. Everything. It scared me. The leaders, the freaks, had yet to be tracked down. I didn't understand how they couldn't find them. Surely someone had seen a bunch of talking animals. A dragon! And yet, no one had. I was very close to insisting I lead the search party myself. Why was no one around here good at their job? I forced myself to breathe, slowly. Collect myself. Someone rushed over to remove my armour. I wasn't in the mood to speak to them. They knew, bowing hurriedly, rushing with their job. Another unprofessional, disappointing worker. I wanted to start anew. Hire a whole castle worth of staff. Dismiss everyone from their posts. Stop whatever revolution in its tracks. I would think about it. It was time to turn my life around. I had new options.
Options that were not my wife or son.
I couldn't raise a child alone. I hadn't the time nor the patience. But I couldn't bring my wife back without her child. She would hate me, I knew that much. She would have cried for me to have brought him back to life instead. I couldn't. The reality was, I rarely saw my son, I was far too busy. When I had finished my day, he would already be asleep. What child deserves to live in a world without a Mother? Only castle staff for parental guidance. Had he been older, already wisened to my role, a high sense of respect for me already adopted, perhaps that would have been the solution. Alas, he was a baby. Easily influenced by the people around him. I couldn't have a child who made friends with servants, they would lead him astray. He wouldn't know he was above them. He wouldn't know his place. No. That wouldn't do. I had put much thought into it. They told me to discuss with people. I didn't need to. I was right. I was always right.
I walked. I didn't want to go to the bedroom that wasn't mine. I didn't want to go to a council who would reject me. I didn't want to go to another empty room without them. I didn't want to see a person who would help me move on from my grief. I just walked. Around the gardens, through the ballroom, dining hall, vast corridors, until I stopped. Outside her door. Why was I here? For the first time in a while I questioned my location, my motives, my reasoning. I didn't know. I stopped myself from stepping closer to the door, straining to listen to her, getting exasperated as her offspring endlessly chattered leaving her no room to speak. Like I did so often. Clearly my thoughts were gathering, I was coming to my senses as surely I had been driven mad. Seeking her out. Being comforted by her voice. Wishing for… For… No. I couldn't. Possibly. I stepped back. Backing away further and further.
Did I still feel… favourably, towards her?
My mind drifted back to the panic that seized my body on the few occasions I thought she was dead. When the threats and the letters stopped coming through from her tower. I paused all of my duties to visit her, I made her a priority. I missed important functions for her. Because I thought she had died. Because I worried when I shouldn't have cared. When I thought she had been killed travelling away from the tower. I should have been listening to my wife. But I wasn't. I was focused on her. My fascination with towers was because of her. My venomous dislike of the colour green, because of her. My encouragement for my wife to wear her hair in a braid… Because of Fiona.
I left, ordering a servant to draw me a bath. I felt dazed, my skin seemed to crawl. The warmth of the water soothed me. The dim room helped me think. I asked for something to be brought to me. Something I hadn't looked at in years. I dried my hands, wiping the front cover clean, and slowly opened the thoroughly worn book, carefully turning each page. A bittersweet smile hovered about my lips. It brought back a small childlike happiness to me. Rapunzel didn't like it, it stayed on my Mother's bookshelves collecting dust. Unlike the other versions of that fairytale, this one wasn't generic. It was customised, each character looked like the person they were written about. It was really me, it was really her. This story was determined long before it was ever supposed to happen. Perhaps before she was even born. It was the strange reality of the situation, we were made for each other. Or rather, she was made by my Mother for me… It was well known that the King and Queen tried desperately for a second child. For a boy, an heir. And it slowly became apparent that it was my Mother that kept Lillian's womb barren. Leaving only Fiona to take the kingdom. Only one daughter to marry her son. Thinking about it, I sank lower into the water as I mused, it was probably Mum who made their child a girl. Made their child happen at all, even. I wondered if Mum customised her appearance, or if she left it down to genetics. I guessed not, Harold was not the most handsome of men, it was very fortunate Fiona looked just like her Mother. But in any case. She was for me. Gift wrapped with a little bow. I didn't know how many people were made for each other. I could only assume a few. Our childhood was adjusted for each other's presence. Our fairytale was created for each other's purpose. Our fairytale. Yes. It was our fairytale. She was the Princess and I was the Prince.
I wished so much for that to still be the case.
My eyes widened, why couldn't it? Perhaps I was no longer a Prince. I was the King of her old kingdom. She was alone. I was alone. She could be Queen. Like she should have been. Her friends wouldn't be able to touch me if she was my Queen. If she had declared her love to me in such a way. They'd have to give up. I would have won.
I eagerly handed the book off and poked at the bubbled that surrounded me. A smile slowly spread across my face. That could be my plan! Of course I would make her human again. As she was would never do. Every time I listened to her I would allow my mind to drift back to that one day. For less than 24 hours I was her husband. She was human, she was beautiful, she could be that way again. We could be that way again. This time she'd know it was me. She would embrace me. Of course she would. But what about the children? I sighed, blowing away the bubbles I held in my palm. She wouldn't leave them. She wouldn't allow me to do anything with them. I could change them too, I supposed. It wouldn't do any harm. They would never be mine though. I refused to allow that. Though, I had a sudden change of heart, that would be wonderfully revengeful. If Shrek could see anything from whatever afterlife exists, he would see his children being claimed by me, I smirked. But no. I couldn't look at them. I didn't want them to exist. They could stay at the castle, thought they wouldn't grow into anything of use, they were ogres. I'd humour them. Allow my wife's wishes. Nothing more.
My wife?
I suddenly realised what I had thought. Fiona would be my wife. Like she was supposed to have been. Like she should be. What about Rapunzel? I shook my head. Rapunzel, my beautiful Rapunzel, was gone now. She was not an option. I had a new one, no, I had my old one back. Mum would have wanted this. Mum would be so proud.
I found myself outside her room again. This time I was not lost. I was not here by chance. I had spent the last few hours preparing myself. I had people come dress me. I had tried six different outfits before I had settled on one. They had brushed my hair until it was silky soft and touched up my face. I stood tall, pulling my shoulders back and knocked loudly. I heard the familiar sudden hush, footsteps. I put a smile on my face, it came easy. I was excited, perhaps even happy. This wouldn't be the first time I had smiled at her like this. That day, that one day, I had smiled at her a lot. Though she hadn't smiled back. Not much. She would this time.
I almost startled as the door opened, I had forgotten she wasn't in her human state. Yet, I reminded myself. She would be, in time. Her eyebrow was raised, she didn't let go of the door, "Thank you, for knocking," her voice had a heavy sarcastic tone, "Makes a pleasant change." I ignored it. Her disappointment would dissolve. I was sure of it. What would she have to complain about? She'd have her kingdom back, her beauty back, her old home and a new husband. I'd have my Queen, my true Queen. Queen Fiona Charming. I felt the excitement bubble through my body. Yes.
"You're welcome," I offered back to her. I broadened my smile. She raised her other eyebrow to match in response.
"What're you so happy about?" she seemed shocked by my cheerful attitude. Good. I would surprise her. I liked surprising people, surprises always gained the most praise.
"I've come to make you very happy indeed," my smile widened. She only seemed more confused. She looked back to the occupants of her room, giving them a small smile, nodding encouragement at them. Their voices began chirping again. I didn't let my expression fade. I wouldn't let them phase me.
She turned her attention back to me, "I can leave?" she was blunt. My smile drooped a little. No. She had it wrong. I doubted myself, for a second.
I renewed my grin. She was only wrong because she hadn't considered the option. I just needed to tell her. I chuckled, as if her words were a joke. They were. "No, no. Something much better." Her eyebrow rose once again, she was curious. I had her attention in the way I needed. She was waiting for me. I had a speech prepared. I cleared my throat. "Now, Fiona. I know we've had our… differences…" I felt the doubt creeping up my spine as the corners of her mouth turned upwards slightly, setting a bemused look on her face. Perhaps I had made a poor word choice. I pushed onwards, "But we share something, we share a fairytale," her eyebrow was raised again, "That fairytale was never completed. It was never fulfilled as intended." When I had pictured the scenario before I was tenderly holding her hands, but those were human hands. I glanced at her unsightly, green fingers and decided against the action. That would come later. "I want to correct that, with you." I took a breath and gracefully dropped to one knee, "Fiona," I paused, her expression was frozen, lips slightly parted, eyes wide, "my Princess," I dared say it, "Will you marry me?"
She stared at my exposed knee, before working her way up to my face. Her gaze met mine. Hope reignited throughout my body. This was how proposals went, didn't they? Unexpected ones. They were shocked, at first. Yes. She was just surprised, she hadn't said no, or worse. My hope dampened a little; she hadn't done anything at all. As if to correct my unspoken musings her face suddenly contorted as if in disgust and took a step back, throwing the door closed. The noise echoed through the corridor. I was frozen, for a moment. Staring into the wood of the door. That wasn't supposed to happen. That wasn't right. My hopeful, positive expression fell off of my face. I stood. Looking around, brushing myself down, brushing away the embarrassment, giving my hands something to do. No one was around. All I could hear was the small voices of her children.
The frustration, no, anger took over my body. I just caught myself before I slammed my fists against her door. I stalked away, towards the stairs. I kicked the banister, hard. I wanted to shout. But she'd hear. I couldn't allow her to be smug. I couldn't allow her to think she had affected me in any way. My robe tangled around my legs, I fumbled with the clasps at my shoulders.
"You!" I pointed impatiently at a servant beginning their way up the stairs, "Get this off of me." They did, quickly. My anger had clearly damaged my dexterity. I ripped the cloak out of her hands, she looked as if she was going to cry. I waved her away before I ended up sending her away from the castle forever.
I didn't like being rejected. I hated it. It was unfair. I was the King, rejection should not be something I experienced. She clearly did not understand my offer, my proposal. She allowed her anger, her bitterness, her need for revenge get in the way of her rational mind. Obviously. I replayed the moment over in my mind, bracing my arms against the wall. She had hesitated. She did. She thought about something. That meant something. I sighed heavily, scrunched up my face in frustration and roughly threw my robe over the banister. That moment of hesitation probably just meant she was as crazy as me.
Crazy.
The crazy King asked his defeated enemy's widow to marry him. Not for revenge. But for passion. For love. I slid down to my knees. Tears spilled over my cheeks, I put my face in my hands sobbing quietly. What I sight I was. I was reminded, so harshly, of that night when she was beautiful. When I danced with her to my Mother's song. Our song. The way her delicate form fit perfectly into my arms. The way her hand felt encased in mine. Her lips… And then… Nothing. The door was slammed in my face then too. I wanted to be held. I wanted to be loved. By someone. If the person who was made for me wouldn't. Then who would? "Mummy, oh mummy," I whispered, "What do I do?"
There was no answer, of course there wasn't. No one had answers. I shouldn't feel like this. I shouldn't care about her answer. I should be getting over mourning my family. The family that did love me. I couldn't. I couldn't do anything. I had to give up, give up with my current train of thought. I had lost control.
. . .
I really like exploring the whole backstory to Fiona and Far Far Away and all that. They mention in Shrek 2 that Fiona was "supposed to choose the Prince we picked out for her". So I infer from that both Harold and Lillian had some form of input into 'picking' Charming to go rescue her at whatever point during Fiona's childhood. Plus, all of those 'Mrs Fiona Charming' doodles meant in some capacity she was almost trained into wanting him, like Charming probably was physically trained into going to rescue her. I found that interesting to think about when writing this.
Just to let you guys know, there's only two more chapters left.
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