New Clothes

Finally, they'd survived to the day they'd been invited for. The announcement celebration of the triplets' role in the royal family. It was every bit as uncomfortable as Shrek had anticipated. He, Fiona and Lillian were stood off the side of the stage, having already been presented. They waited eagerly for the curtain to open. Not the same kind of eager as the other people the room was filled with. Fiona had clutched hold of his arm. She was nervous for them, it was their first appearance on a stage. He was too, at least a little. But he knew they were young enough for embarrassment to bounce right off them and they'd have to get used to it eventually. He was more nervous for him and his wife should the trio throw a tantrum or start a fight with each other.

"They'll be fine," he mumbled to his wife, rolling his eyes a little at her fixed gaze on the curtain. Considering what they'd already come up against, this was nothing.

"I know," Fiona nodded a little, her voice betraying how tense she really was, "They'll be fine," she repeated, relaxing somewhat. He knew after everything that had happened, and the recent discovery, she was a little on edge when it came to the kids. "Fergus will cry," she gave an opposing argument.

"Fergus will be fine, darling," Lillian chipped in, laying a hand on Fiona's shoulder, "They all will be. You did the same thing with your father when you were little. Younger than them, in fact."

Fiona nodded again, taking a deep breath, "I don't even know what I'm worried about," she gave a slight laugh.

The ogre looked down at her, reaching with his other arm to squeeze her hand. She broke her eye contact with the closed curtain to meet his gaze for a brief moment.

The trumpets sounded, silencing everyone in the room, "Formally announcing, King Arthur and the heirs to the Far Far Away throne: Prince Fergus, Prince Farkle, and Princess Felicia."

"This is it," he mumbled, waiting for the curtains to be opened, fully expecting one child stuck to Artie's leg sobbing and the other two locked in a battle to the death on the ground.

However, the stage revealed Artie, with three stands, tiny crowns on each, and the three children stood, holding hands, staring wide eyed out at the crowd. Fiona's grip tightened on his arm. The polite applause ensued. They each wore matching deep green velvet clothing, differing golden embroidery on each child. It had been a struggle getting them into the outfits, but they certainly looked the part. Shrek couldn't help but give in to the smile tugging at his lips. There was an odd sense of pride that came over him as he watched them. Fiona was beaming at them. Their eyes quickly found their parents. Felicia smiled at them, Farkle's eyes quickly drew back to the crowd, but Fergus maintained eye contact and his brow creased a little, frowning.

"I told you he'd cry," Fiona whispered, maintaining an exaggerated, encouraging smile at them.

"He's not crying just yet," Shrek corrected her.

Artie stepped forward, he said something quietly, they all turned to him. He took Fergus's hand and led them back to the crowns. The king took a moment to crouch down and say something to them, ignoring the people waiting in silence. Finally, he stood, looking out to everyone. He picked up the first crown, "Prince Fergus," he spoke loudly. The child looked back to his parents momentarily before letting go of his sibling's hand and approached Artie alone. Artie placed the crown upon the child's head.

The children received their royal markers one by one and stood where they had been told. They were nervous, that much was obvious, but the crowd cooed and clapped for each of them. The wistful smile found its way back to Shrek's face. If anyone in the past had told him his children would be royalty, he'd have told them where to go. Yet, the ogre couldn't help but feel like they were doing a great job of their positions as royals. Much better than his. He shared a glance with Fiona, before resting their gazes back on their children. As the final applause ended, the parents were ready to receive their children back, when Artie stepped to the front of the stage.

"I just wanted to take a moment to say a few words..." he began. The smiles vanished from the ogre parents' faces.

Where everyone else drew their attention to Artie, they remained entirely focused on their children. Shrek couldn't help but question why the king thought it was necessary to have them in the background of his speech. But they were being good. Enough time passed for the ogre to begin to be impressed by their good behaviour before Farkle's eyes narrowed in an all too familiar way. The child's mischievous gaze slipped to the top of his sister's head.

"Oh no," Shrek breathed. The ogre wished every ounce of stage fright upon them, but apparently his son was too bored by the audience now.

Farkle poked at Felicia's tiara, it skewed a little in her hair. Fiona sighed impatiently. She was the one to protest the ceremony at all, knowing the crowns couldn't be fixed into place. She had been reassured by many that their stage time was incredibly limited and nothing would happen. She had been entirely right.

Felicia gasped, looking to her brother, crossing her brow. She did what she could to fix the placement of her tiara, she turned a little exaggeratedly to Fergus, whispering something to him. Distracted by his fright, the child shook his sister away from him, though Felicia only whispered something again. Fergus looked to her tiara and nodded at her before his gaze sunk back to the crowd, then to Artie, then to his parents. Shrek glared at the child, hoping maybe as he had Fergus's attention, the child would point the others to look at him too. His son frowned again.

Fiona briefly looked to her husband, she sharply nudged him, "Stop, you're making him nervous," she hissed.

"I'm hoping it'll spread t'the other two," Shrek responded urgently. His previous calm and reassurance to his wife disappearing.

Shrek's wishes didn't come true. He watched his problematic son laugh at his problematic daughter. This had happened too many times at home. He ran through the familiar events in his head as he watched it play out in front of him. The little ogress nudged her brother, he could see her tell him to stop, he didn't, she looked to him, dropping her hand from his, Farkle latched hold of her again, giggling, Felicia snatched her hand away from him. This had not only garnered the attention of their sensibly terrified brother, but Artie even glanced back at them. Shrek shook his head as Artie didn't pause his speech.

Shrek sighed, "I'm gonna go get 'em," he spoke indignantly.

"No," Fiona insisted, holding onto him tighter.

"Arthur will be done in just a second, we're almost there," Lillian's reasonable voice joined their debate.

"A second's all it takes," the ogre rolled his eyes.

A second was all it took for Felicia to snap and push Farkle's crown. It flew clean off of his head, hitting the stage floor with a loud crunch. Shrek sighed resoundingly.

The sound made Artie startle, pausing what he was saying, turning to them. The crowd gasped. Felicia threw her hands over her agape mouth. Farkle was stood, wide eyed, looking between the crowd, his parents' glare and the crown.

"Please just stay quiet," Fiona mumbled as Artie broke into a smile, he stepped back, picking up the child's crown from the floor.

"Hey, it takes practice to get these things to stay," he invited the audience to laugh, placing it back upon the child's head. The crowd took the bait. Though, the look on their children's faces meant the parents were not relieved at all.

"But it wasn't me," Farkle defended himself, voice grown louder, loud enough for the audience to hear.

"Alright, I'm going up there," Shrek took a breath. Fiona let go of his arm.

"She did!" Farkle wasn't done, he pointed at his sister, "It was Felicia!"

Not one to take criticism, Felicia folded her arms, "You started it."

The crowd was watching, murmuring. Artie stood dumbfoundedly, his smile fading. On top of everything, Fiona's prediction came true. Fergus looked to his mother, face creasing, and began to cry.

Shrek hurried, "Hey," he hissed as loudly as he dared as he approached the steps. Though they didn't pay attention to him.

Shrek climbed the stairs, the familiar feeling of self-consciousness flooding back. "Hey," he spoke by way of greeting to their audience. He finally saw the faces of the crowd, while some were bemused by the events, others were disapproving and horrified. He could feel his ears drooping. Artie looked at him apologetically. It didn't matter, the damage was done. Fergus ran immediately into his arms, Shrek swooping him up. "Kids, eh?" he addressed the crowd again, exaggeratedly rolling his eyes, "This is why ya never have a long speech with four-year-olds involved," he tried to add humour. It was appreciated from some, but not enough. His gaze finally landed on the two sheepish culprits.

"Farkle started it," Felicia protested quietly.

"Yah, I know who started it," he whispered at them, "I also know who didn't end it." He gestured at them to follow. They did. Very closely.

Artie laughed loudly behind them, "I think I was a little responsible for that," he exaggerated, more people laughed with him than they did the ogre. "The children!" he offered room for applause. Though before anyone had time to start clapping, the crown promptly fell off of Fergus's head, as he leant into Shrek's shoulder, hiding from the crowd. It rolled down the steps, clanging with every bounce.

Shrek sighed again. He knew having children was a bad idea.


Artie looked around the room from his throne. He was fighting the urge to rest his head in his hand. He ball wasn't something he was in the mood for unless she showed up. Despite word of his wedding falling apart spreading throughout the kingdom in the past week, Abbey still remained absent. His friends had gone to ask for her a few times, her parents said she was out a lot, acting strangely, she was finding a new job. He sighed, of course she was acting strangely. It wasn't just Elena that was the problem. It was him breaking his promise to her. He just wanted her to come back so he could apologise, tell her that he was the worst person he's ever known, and ask if maybe she'd like to try again. If her answer was no then he could take it and move on. But with only absence to go by, it was killing him. He'd had several people approach him talking about meeting new people, which he'd promptly rejected. This only left him laying awake at night wondering how long he'd be rejecting people for. A part of him wanted to wait forever for her, just in case, but also knew he couldn't do that. Waiting forever meant being alone forever, just like everyone said he would. He sighed, it also meant providing no heirs and putting the ogres back on the throne, and considering how well things had gone before, perhaps that wasn't such a good idea.

"She here yet?"

Artie startled at the familiar voice from behind his seat.

"No," he responded glumly as his two friends emerged in front of him. Artie had invited her to the ball. It was likely Abbey's parents thought it was odd but he was beyond caring. Perhaps there was a chance she'd respond to it. She could come if she wanted, she could avoid him the whole night, but it'd be something. He guessed if she didn't show it was one sign that she was saying no to everything.

"How do you know?" Puss looked out to the vast amounts of people in the ball room.

"I've circled a couple times," he finally did set his head into his hand.

"Hey, don't give up, Artie!" Donkey insisted.

"If she doesn't come, I guess this means no. I can't... I can't wait forever. That's just creepy," he shrugged listlessly.

"If she doesn't come," Puss picked up on what he said, "So find out, señor," the cat exaggeratedly looked to a member of the castle staff.

Artie's hopes picked up again. He felt like he was on a rollercoaster of emotions. It was crazy how quickly he could go from completely hopeless to expecting his wedding to be next week. He stood, casually approaching someone in uniform, "Excuse me," Artie asked a member of staff, they bowed at him, "Could you find out if an invitation from a Miss Abigail Thomas has been collected this evening?"

The man nodded and hurried away. Puss was right. Despite circulating and not finding her, he still couldn't be totally sure, being king meant he couldn't get anywhere without having someone trying to speak to him, needing him, greeting him. He looked back to Puss and Donkey, they grinned at him, but a couple of people hurriedly approached. Artie was required to oblige and listen. They were gushing to him, being complimentary, they always were, he could tell it was typically false on a lot of people. Being king also meant that people generally had to like you. It had been quite something to get used to.

Finally there was a gentle clearing of a man's throat. Artie turned, half expecting to see the worker he had asked before presenting Abbey to him. Alas it was a different uniformed man, "Excuse me, Your Majesty, a young lady has been looking for you," he spoke quietly, "She said it was of upmost importance you talk to her, Sire, she says she's an old friend."

Artie's heart skipped a beat, he couldn't stop the smile spreading over his face, "Where is she?" he asked eagerly.

"She's over there, King Arthur, the pillar next to the dance floor," he threw a tired finger in her direction.

Barely giving a nod of thanks, Artie took off in that direction. He hurried as much as he could, ignoring people's smiling gazes and bows, he had more important things on his mind than politeness. He needed to get to her before she could leave again. If she came back, he couldn't let her go. He finally reached the destination and looked around him. He couldn't spot her. He realised it was a ball; he was looking for her uniform, her hair dutifully tied up in a bun. She wouldn't look like that. But surely he'd recognise her anyway. There was a tap polite tap on his shoulder, he held his breath, he was about to turn and exclaim how he couldn't believe he'd missed her. When the voice was all wrong, "Uh-King Arthur?"

The bells of recognition rang in his mind. He turned to her, feeling a slight queasiness come over him. "Guinn?" he asked her in disbelief.

She smiled at him. She was older, but it was very much her. That familiar dusting of freckles that he once adored, her strawberry-blonde hair – a colour he once found incredibly special – piled on her head, beads woven throughout. His high school crush. His mouth went dry, his brain losing all capacity of speech. It was a strangely familiar feeling from those old days.

"King Arthur, I hear that's what you go by these days," she smirked at him, "You don't mind if I still call you Artie, right?" she continued, "It would be totally weird otherwise, as we were friends back at school."

The way she casually spoke to him was odd. She'd never spoken to him like that before, at least not since they first started high school, before everyone fell into their places on the popularity ladder. He nodded curiously at her, confused at her definition of friends. As much as he was sure he was in love with her back at school, the daydream had drawn to a close long ago. He looked back on her with disdain and embarrassment. He chuckled nervously, "What are you doing here, Guinn?"

Her face lit up, "To see you, loser," she laughed as if it were an affectionate name. He smiled grimly, aware of everyone around him glancing toward the pair and whispering. He took a step back from her, creating distance, but she only stepped closer. "I totally can't believe how different you look," the girl batted her eyelashes, before surveying his appearance, "You got some..." she stroked his arm gently, "some new clothes."

Artie raised an uncomfortable brow, angling his body away from her slightly, "And a crown," he spoke what she really meant by her flirtatious observation.

"Yeah," she smirked, "I still can't believe you're a king," she shook her head, "It's so... like incredible. No one believed it at first when you got kidnapped by that ogre, thought it was some elaborate plan to eat you or something. Weird..." she paused, looking at his face, he was obviously unimpressed, "Oh but I believed, totally wasn't a surprise when we heard you'd actually been crowned and everything. They're all idiots back at that school," she rolled her eyes.

He scoffed, "Yeah," he agreed with her there, "I'm glad I got out of that place."

She was staring intently at him as he spoke, nodding, "Yeah, me too. Worcestershire is so limiting, it held you back from your kingdom," her words were strange to him. She was so confident in what she was saying. He might have been fooled if she tried this a few years ago. But it wasn't a few years ago anymore. "Your kingdom is so like rock and roll, you know?"

He tried to stifle a smirk at her comment, inwardly cringing a little at her reference. Though, the expression was wiped from his face as the worker he had asked before cleared his throat, catching the king's attention.

"No such invitation has been collected, Sire."

Disappointment washed over him, he stared dumbly at the ground for a moment. She was the only real reason he threw the ball. It was all pointless, he felt defeated.

"Who's the frown about?" his present company questioned him. She had an eyebrow suspiciously raised.

He forced out a chuckle, "Ah, no one," he brushed it off, looking to where his throne was. Where he could sit and watch and interact minimally with people. If she wasn't going to show up, there was no point in even trying to enjoy himself. He sighed resoundingly, "Guinn, I need to-"

"Hey, I love this song," she suddenly commented, interrupting his departure. His brows knitted, the song hadn't changed, it was dance music played by the orchestra, nothing exciting, nothing special, just music. "It's so medieval and inspired and stuff," she gestured for him to agree. He only hesitated. She suddenly broke her cool exterior and grabbed hold of his arm, "Let's dance!" she pushed him onto the dance floor with her. A few people around them seemed alarmed, as alarmed as he was, she simply smiled at them, "We're old friends," she explained in short, a few times. He stared at her as she smiled sweetly at him, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.

People were leaving the dance floor for them, realising what the situation looked like, he took a sudden step back, "Guinn, I-"

She threw herself against him, clasping onto one of his hands. He practically had no choice but to agree to the dancing stance she was trying to create. It was either that or throwing her away from him. That would've been a scene he wasn't prepared for. He barely had the energy to do anything. It was easier to just give her the one dance she apparently needed before excusing himself, and perhaps telling a member of staff to escort her out.

Realisation suddenly dawned on him, he'd never invited her. "How did you even get in?" he asked, trying to keep his expression neutral. It was just his luck, the girl he threw the ball for didn't show, but the girl he most definitely didn't want to be with did, uninvited.

"I have a friend whose cousin's friend had an invite and like couldn't make it. Totally couldn't let the invite go to waste," she shrugged a little, still moving in time to the music.

Artie noticed Puss and Donkey staring at him, puzzled. Of course, they'd be the most puzzled out of everyone there, knowing what they knew. And seeing what this looked like. He tried to put some distance between them, despite the dance, he tried to seem as tired and sluggish as he could. She didn't seem to notice. Her eyes were on his crown, were darting around the crowd. He could see through her entirely. He was about to call her out on her treatment of him at school – for his own amusement of course – when something caught his eye over Guinn's shoulder. He looked directly at the distraction, a girl was walking up the vast staircase. It wouldn't be anything special, but there was something about the golden hair that he recognised. He gasped a little, dropping his arms, releasing his hold on Guinn. It couldn't happen again.

"Artie?" Guinn's voice was urgent, annoyed.

He ignored her, passing her, keeping his eyes locked on the girl climbing the stairs. He could hear quiet mumbles around him, in his peripheral vision a few were even following his gaze. It didn't mean anything to them, they stopped looking. He made his way through the people, everyone stepping politely out of his way, bowing their heads as he passed. He could barely muster more than an awkward smile in return to them. He couldn't lose her, not again. He couldn't even be completely sure if it was her. The girl was wearing a beautiful blue-tinted-white ballgown, it sparkled in the lights ever so slightly. Her hair was loose, falling in soft ringlets around her shoulders. By all accounts, it wasn't like her at all. But the way she moved, they'd been close friends for years, something in his mind was telling him that it was her.

He followed her up the stair case, she was a way ahead of him, he hurried after her. "Abbey?" he called softly as she reached the top, she briefly looked to him, he sucked in a breath, it was her. But she turned quickly away and continued her journey. Her expression was unreadable to him, she wasn't happy, but she didn't seem angry either. He hurried to the top of the stairs, ignoring the breathlessness he was beginning to feel. He followed her, as he increased his speed, so did she. It appeared that she didn't want him to catch up with her.

"Abbey?"

She wasn't responding to him. He couldn't figure her out. Just walking stiffly and quickly. They were out of sight from the ballroom, the quiet corridor making his ears ring a little, only the soft tapping of her heels on the carpets making any noise. He recalled her face back in the chapel, he knew he shouldn't even question what she was doing. It wasn't really strange at all, when he considered it. The last time he saw her, he was saying I do to someone else, and then she came back to find him dancing with another girl. Strange was perhaps the normal reaction to that situation.

Abbey suddenly darted into a room. At first it seemed a little random, but the significance hit him; it was the sitting room they shared their first kiss in. Though, just as he allowed a smile, the door was thrown shut behind her. Keeping him out. Artie approached the door hesitantly, confusion spreading over him. "Abbey?" he knocked lightly, looking down the corridor both ways to see if anyone was watching. It was eerily empty. "What are you doing?" he asked. There was silence, just the slight ringing in his ears and the muffled music and people from below. He carefully opened the door to the room in question. It was dark, he couldn't see anything. "Abbey?" he asked again, feeling somewhat stupid at the slight fear that crept up his spine. He closed the door behind him, shutting them in privacy.

"ARTIE N -MMph"

The king gasped, startled by her shriek that had been sharply cut off. That was strange. She wasn't alone. He feared who joined her.

The room was suddenly alight before he could react. He blinked in shock to the sudden brightness. Though Artie completely lost his breath and all thoughts to accompany it as he saw exactly who joined her.

"King Arthur!" the witch's face lit up, "I'm so happy you could make it."


AN: HAhaa, even got you previous readers with this one!