New Perspectives
Shrek kept his mouth closed as he walked. Last time he had spoken out loud to himself it seemed to have summoned the man who was behind everything. As much as he wanted get some answers, the ogre knew too well that magician had him beat. He'd need to find where the triplets were and then figure out his plan. It would be difficult alone, but he'd do it. He was sure of that much. The ogre tried to keep his confidence up. Keeping his mind empty when there was so much to think about was quite the task for him. At least it gave him something to do as he walked, he begrudgingly acknowledged. Shrek was so lost in his non-thoughts, he almost missed the tree that was far closer to the path than any of the others. It made him stop in his tracks. The ogre looked around, it appeared that on the path in front of him the trees were becoming more in line with a pattern. Hesitantly continuing, Shrek tried to convince himself it was a good thing; that he was getting somewhere. He had no idea how long he had been walking for, only that he was tired, his legs hurt and his head was aching.
The ogre tried his best to pick up his pace, this had to be a sign. He turned his thoughts to his children, seeing them again. Ignoring the nagging doubts about what the man had said to him before. Those words he had wisely chosen not to tell Fiona. The man said he didn't need to worry about the kids anymore. Shrek didn't even want to dwell on what that meant. So he didn't. He set a grim half smile on his face and carried on. Though, despite the ogre's efforts, he was made to shudder by a small breeze that suddenly picked up around him. It wouldn't have bothered him, but it was so different to what he had grown accustomed to on the path. Shrek looked over his shoulder yet again, both ways. He even turned and walked backwards for moment just to be sure the stranger hadn't reappeared. But as Shrek turned back, he stopped in his tracks, startling.
There was a speck of light in his vision. It was small but completely out of place. It appeared to be floating. The ogre tried to keep walking but the tiny speck was mesmerising. Shrek couldn't tear his eyes away. The fatigue his body was aching with began to melt away. There was a small part inside of him that was screaming to stop looking, to walk away. But his body was too relaxed to move. The ogre didn't realise how on edge he had been, it finally felt like he was at peace. The small dot of light began to grow. It was almost like slowly being submerged into water. In the back of his mind, Shrek knew this wasn't right, that he would never feel this calm about anything. But it was accompanied by an odd sense of acceptance that he couldn't do anything about it. The thoughts of his children were even strangely pleasant. The light grew brighter as it became all that he could see. The ogre was even aware that it was hurting to his eyes to look at, but he just couldn't seem to move his gaze. The relaxation furthered, to the point where he felt the immediate need to lower himself to the ground.
"Mix, mix, mixing, the old woman started to cook..." Felix lifted a hand to adjust his glasses before realising that they weren't there. It was a foolish mistake that left him a little amused. It had been years since he had needed the reading aid, but stories like these made him feel reminiscent. "Stir, stir, stirring, she added sugar and flour and continued cooking..." His mother would always read this story to him when he was young. He had always thought he'd do the same to his own eventual children. Though it appeared now he wouldn't have any. "The old woman didn't stop..." For the most part, he had never thought to conjure up this particular book. As an adult fairy tales didn't appeal to him as they did before. He mostly liked to read mystery novels, it kept his mind alive and well. Though, he'd read so many that they got terribly predictable. Felix let out a soft sigh, he'd probably read many more too... Seeing as he was stuck with eternal life. "She added some butter and one large egg before mixing in some special ginger..." Eternal life wasn't something he thought he'd find himself complaining about. It wasn't the most relatable of problems. People paid everything they had for eternal life. The fear of death was an incredibly relatable problem. He had previously felt it for himself and for his family. Of course that was once upon a time. "The old woman took a handful of dough to make a little gingerbread man..." He hadn't seen his family since he left. He assumed they were dead now. He couldn't be entirely sure, he didn't know exactly how many years it had been. One thing he knew for sure was that his family thought he was dead. They had objected to him leaving in the first place. The whole situation didn't seem real. And yet it was real in the worst way possible.
Felix realised he had paused for a moment too long, he continued. "She made his body and then his legs, arms and his head..." He had been so bitter for years. He was angry and would get frustrated at the slightest thought about what she had done to him. She had promised him everything; work, opportunities, money, more importantly the ability to help his struggling family. And yet, here he was sitting in a house in the middle of a magical island, with power beyond his wildest dreams, but unable to neither help nor see his family at all. He was entirely alone. Well... Typically he was alone. Today he had guests. "She made his nose, his eyes and his mouth, a big smiling mouth..." Occasionally she would bring guests to him. Well, she insisted they call them guests. He didn't think that term was entirely appropriate. But he liked to treat them as guests as much as he could. Of course, that wasn't much. He'd give them blankets and pillows at night, cook them three meals a day. Try to occupy their time with conversation. He did everything he could to make them feel comfortable. Well, as comfortable as he could, considering they were in a cage. "Then from a sweet jar she gave him little buttons..." He had tried before to let someone out and let them take his bedroom, but she really didn't approve of that. Felix never tried again.
There was an inaudible whisper and a sneeze, "Bless you," Felix paused his story, giving a small smile, "Finally, she put everything into the oven and waited..." If Felix was completely honest with himself, he enjoyed keeping guests. They were company in his painfully lonely life. He enjoyed hearing about people, they were all so different. Hearing about the world outside of his lonely house fascinated him. Not that the enthusiasm was shared. The guests often appreciated his efforts, but they never liked him. She saw to that. Some even hated him. "When the old woman opened the oven door, the gingerbread man jumped out and ran..." He couldn't really tell what his current guests thought of him. It was strange that there was more than one person occupying the cell, though for that he was very thankful. These guests weren't any ordinary guests at all. They were children. "He laughed at the old woman, 'You can't eat me because you can't catch me'..." He'd kept one child before. It was long ago, but he remembered so clearly. It was the one guest that changed everything. Things had been very different between Felix and her before that child. He wondered if things would be different after these children now. "'Stop, stop little gingerbread man', the old woman cried..." She had already visited the person who was walking through the island to rescue them. It meant she was concerned about them reaching the house. No one had reached the house before; it certainly would be a change. Though Felix knew change never meant anything good for him. So he continued to read the book, "The old woman tried to-"
"When will daddy get here?"
Felix lifted his gaze from the book to look at the child who spoke, Felicia. They had introduced themselves after a while of crying when they first arrived. It had shocked him when he awoke and was met with three children in his cell, ogres too. He'd never seen an ogre before, only heard stories. It had left him a little nervous, though they were so upset and terrified, the nerves rightfully wore off.
"He's coming," Felix assured them. Though, he wasn't entirely sure what was going on. She had been strangely quiet about this task. Other times she would speak enthusiastically about what she wanted to do and he protested as much as he dared. But he found himself unable to protest anything beyond their existence with him. Still, Felix knew better than to show hesitation in front of these little guests. He smiled.
"Daddy will save us," Felicia spoke again, quietly. She was speaking to her brothers. One of them, the quietest, most despondent boy, Fergus, looked at him. He stared with wide, terrified eyes, his fingers in his mouth.
"He's just taking forever," the other boy, Farkle, spoke quietly back at his sister.
"Do you want to hear the rest of the story?" Felix asked little Fergus directly. His siblings both looked at the man suddenly.
"No," Farkle answered for them. But Fergus nodded a little.
"I think your brother wants to hear it," Felix pointed out. He had always thought he was good with children. Though, he figured he was a little rusty.
"We've heard that story one hundred times," Farkle spoke up.
"Two hundred times," Felicia corrected him.
"Two hundred times!" her brother confirmed.
"Is it like how your mom and dad would read to you?" he again asked Fergus. The child nodded, removing the fingers from his mouth and looked down. Felix could tell he was dealing the worst with being away from their parents. None of them were doing particularly well. Especially after she had visited, they were practically inconsolable. Not that he could blame them. They all cried for their parents while simultaneously trying to reassure each other. Felix couldn't help but find it sweet, in the most sad and terrible way, of course. He stayed in the arm chair with them all night. Though he couldn't be sure if that only scared them more.
"Fergus, daddy is coming to save us," Felicia wrapped her arms around her brother. She then snapped her head up to look at Farkle, "Fergus is sad, Farkle," she chastised him quietly, "Hug him!"
Farkle exaggeratedly sighed, throwing a self-conscious glance to Felix, and joined the hug. Felix looked back down to the book, trying to hide a smile.
"I miss mommy and daddy," Felicia whispered.
"Me too," Farkle joined in.
"Me three," he barely heard Fergus speak. Felix's smile turned to a frown. He had no idea if they would ever see their parents again. He could only hope. And he did. He hoped for every single one of his guests, though it never amounted to much.
Felix suddenly felt the heat hit him. That familiar feeling of light-headedness and nausea washed over his body. He took slow breaths, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.
"Children," he took another woozy breath. It was strong this time. He could feel the sweat on his forehead quickly return. He had to focus on not throwing up. "Stay quiet now," he warned them. He fixed his gaze on them as they pressed themselves into a corner, clasping onto each other. They whimpered quietly, hiding their faces. He gulped taking slow breaths and stood on his shaky legs. "Children," he spoke as clearly as he could muster. They looked at him, wordlessly. He drew a key in the air and grasped hold of it with his trembling hands. He opened the book he had clasped to his chest and put the key inside of it. The pages warped to swallow the item. Felix snapped the book closed and dropped it onto the chair. Ringing entered his ears and black spots began to invade his vision. He staggered to a wall, catching himself. He hated to be in the room with his guests when she did this. Felix grabbed at the cloak hanging over the door and managed to leave, slamming the door behind him before everything went black.
"I'm leaving now."
Shrek found himself standing in the middle of his childhood dining area. The ogre looked around, confused and worried about the sudden change. Though Shrek finally turned his attention to what he was clearly supposed to see. His younger self, older than before, was stood squarely in the entrance of the room. He had a burlap sack in hand and was staring at his father with hollow eyes. Shrek watched his younger self drop the sack at his feet. His father slowly turned in response. Times where he and his father would speak were rare. They tried their best to keep out of each other's way. The years where home was just him and his father seemed like a blur now.
His father raised an eyebrow, "Oh are ye now?"
"Aye," he nodded simply, "I'm old enough. I want t' leave."
"I'm surprised, I didn't think ye'd ever want t' leave," his father's words were mocking. Shrek recalled the burning hatred that would grow inside of him every time his father would speak that way.
Shrek watched himself glare at the older ogre. He picked up his bag of belongings and hauled it over his shoulder, "Don't wait fer me. I'm not comin' back."
The child stared for a moment and then turned to exit the room.
"Wait," the older ogre suddenly seemed confused, "Don't ya want food?"
"Not from you."
Shrek heard the door open and then swing closed again. He looked to his father, he seemed alarmed.
"Shrek!" the ogre called, he stormed over to the door and pulled it open with force, "Shrek, come back here!"
Shrek remembered hearing his father shout after him as he walked off. He remembered taking great pride in himself for never looking back. It was the start of his great adventure. So it naturally shocked him as he watched his father slump his shoulders in defeat, and his ears droop. The older ogre slammed the door closed with such force it shook the house a little. He stomped into the kitchen again and with one arm movement he cleared everything off of the counter, letting it all crash onto the floor. Shrek backed into the corner as his father took every bowl and plate he could find and threw it against the opposite wall, shouting and roaring his frustration at no one. After a short while, he finally found a chair and slumped into it, putting his head into his hands. Shrek watched with almost child-like curiosity, he had never seen his father defeated. He thought that his dad would be angry at him leaving without permission, but he didn't know it would bother him like this.
"Well," his dad spoke quietly, "He's gone, Mirele. He's gone."
AN: Welcome Felix!
Can I just ask to no one in particular... Whose bright idea was it to change the names of the books in the beginning of the credits in Shrek Forever After? I remembered there being other books displayed there and thought, hey, let's have an obscure reference to something the kids would have read, but I got there and it was just stupid. Shrek and the beanstalk? A midsummer night's Shrek? What? I guess I'll just go with the Gingerbread Man story... I guess... (Disclaimer: Still not mine).
