Home
"I thought we were supposed t' be leaving!" Shrek burst into the bedroom, Fiona rolling her eyes behind him, catching the door he threw open.
She carefully closed it behind them before turning to her husband, "We are leaving, but that doesn't mean you can be rude to important guests like that!" she chastised him.
It was Shrek's turn to roll his eyes, "Guests?" he scoffed, "Intruders more like. No one asked them t' be here," he stormed over to their case, throwing that open too.
"They were only trying to help," she tried to explain, though she knew too well it would do nothing.
"Help? Psht," he shook his head.
"Yes. Help," she glared at the back of his head. "And you told them to 'shove their sparkly deal, we're not interested'."
"Yah, and I meant it," he sighed exasperatedly, "I'm not sending the kids to some stupid royal education camp."
"A boarding school," Fiona corrected him as he continued to busy himself.
"That's what I said."
"It's not that bad!" Fiona defended the situation, "It was the same kind of education I had."
"Yah! Exactly!" Shrek turned to nod at her, "Ye should'a heard yerself when we first met!"
Fiona's brow crossed, "What?" she placed her hands firmly on her hips.
"Yer just gonna turn them into... into entitled, royal..." he scrambled for words, oblivious to his glowering wife, "...airheads!"
Fiona narrowed her eyes at him, "Entitled royal airheads, hm?"
"Yah!" came the enthused reply, not even missing a beat.
"I suppose you'd think it's better to just send children away," she shrugged nonchalantly.
Shrek exaggeratedly rolled his eyes, "Aye, I do," he turned back to the task at hand.
"Well, exactly," she drove her point home, "In your culture, that's what happens to kids, in mine... education."
He threw what he had in his hands into the case and turned to face her, "Oh great, looks like we're at a standoff, Princess. Let's just do neither."
"Fine."
"Okay."
Shrek turned back to the case. Fiona turned away from him, throwing open their wardrobe. They were silent for a few moments, passing things between them, grunting in acknowledgement of each other. Fiona finally sighed, staring blankly at their wedding photo hung on the wall. She realised she didn't even know what she was stewing over. It had been so long since it was just the five of them at home, frustrations were high. Even the kids were getting restless and begging to leave. Unlike before, there had been no protest to them returning home this time. She recalled the last time they left after spending a long time at the castle, Artie wanted them to stay forever, and Lillian had even meekly asked if they'd like to live there, or even just stay until the baby was born. Fiona had to find a gentle way to let her mother down while Shrek handled Artie.
Now, there seemed to be no such thing. Artie was thoroughly distracted by his new girlfriend, and she was sure her mom was tired of it all, as much as she pretended not to be. Fiona herself couldn't wait to get back to their home. The witch being gone brought her a little relief, but the thought of having her children all tucked up in their own bed was the most comforting to her.
"You know..." she spoke hesitantly, "I don't actually want to send them to any kind of royal schooling."
After a pause, Shrek sighed, "I... I know."
The pair faded back into silence until Shrek threw the packed cases onto the bed.
"We're done already?" Fiona remarked her surprise.
"Kids and everything," her husband confirmed, "Yanno, Princess, we're productive when we argue, we should do it more often," he gave her a tired smirk as she giggled and nudged him. He took a breath, before speaking in a softer voice, "She said they were in special need of the school or whatever and that they'd be behind... calling 'em stupid," he began to explain himself, "I'm not having that," he shrugged, "They're not stupid. I didn't even have t'hear stuff like that until I was old enough t'stand up fer myself and know it wasn't true. Don't want 'em believing it. That would be stupid."
Fiona nodded, "You're right."
"Wha-" Shrek looked to her in disbelief.
"They could shove their sparkly deal, because we're not interested," she smiled at him.
"Aye, and we're not turning them into whatever you were when we first met," his voice was tinged with humour.
Fiona smiled, despite herself, "Nor whatever you were."
"I can agree t'that."
The door suddenly burst open, startling the two of them.
"Guess what, Shrek?" Donkey grinned at them in the doorway, Puss trailing behind shaking his head.
"What, Donkey?" the ogre was unenthused.
"I'm hitchin' a ride home with you guys!"
Fiona smirked as her husband's face fell.
"But I don't want to take a nap."
"Yah well I do, so get in yer room," Shrek shoo'd the yawning child into the bedroom that was rightfully his.
"Farkle, let's go sweetie," Fiona ushered him into the room, meeting Shrek's gaze for a moment, smiling at him.
Shrek couldn't help but smile back at her. It felt impossibly wonderful for the family to be home. Everything finally felt right again. It hadn't hit him yet how things could have so easily turned out differently. The thought of almost returning home without the kids made him feel a little sick as he scanned the many pages of drawings tacked to their walls. He shook the feeling away, there was no point in dwelling on it.
Leaving the cases on the table, he went into his and Fiona's bedroom. The cases and clothes from Far Far Away still smelled so much like humans and horrid scents that floated around the castle. Away from it, he took a deep breath through his nose, everything smelt right again. He ran his fingers over the rough, burlap bedsheet, it felt right. Having ground under his feet rather than polished floors was wonderful, the dank, dim room around him was perfect. It seemed to be becoming routine for the ogre to relish in his home every time they returned. Though, this time around he'd learnt his lesson, they all had. No more helping Artie. He'd said as much to him, Artie had even agreed. Though they laughed, Shrek meant it, he was laying low from now on.
The ogre sighed looking around the room. It was quiet, the quiet he had grown used to. The hushed voice of Fiona as she settled the children to sleep, the buzz of insects outside, the occasional splash from the swamp pools that surrounded their house and the footsteps? Shrek realised something was wrong, he could hear firm and steady footsteps approaching their home. The typical footsteps of their usual visitors were small, light and frequent. Setting a scowl on his face, he deemed the visitor as unwelcome. He skirted the curtain aside and reached the door just before the unwanted guest could knock.
Shrek opened the door and the shock hit him as he stared at who was stood in his doorway.
"Shrek?"
The ogre threw the door closed again, scowling harder. He clenched his fists, anger bubbling inside of him. The visitor knocked again, loudly.
Fiona appeared outside of the triplet's room, "Who is that?" she asked, concerned, glancing back at the children.
They knocked again, louder still.
"No one," Shrek responded, clenching his jaw.
"Well their insistence on being someone is going to wake the kids up, so humour them or tell them to leave," she spoke quietly but firmly, "Who is it?"
"He'll leave," he looked back to the door as the knocker increased the volume, hammering on the door.
"Shrek!" the visitor shouted.
Fiona's brow knitted in confusion, she looked between the door and her husband, "Is that-"
"My father, aye," he reluctantly confirmed. Just saying it made a rock form in his stomach. There was more than one reason he didn't want Fiona to know about the flash backs. Sure, the tradition was one, but the other was the secrets he held about his own past. Secrets he had intended to keep.
Fiona widened her eyes in surprise, "Really? Are you okay? Do you need me to-"
"No," he interrupted her. She knew enough to know that Shrek wasn't happy to see him.
"Well he is waking up the kids, so you have to do something," she told him what he feared.
Shrek took a breath, it was taking more courage than he expected to move towards the door. Though, he didn't want to hesitate, not in front of Fiona. He wanted to be cool and in control of the situation, though he never felt in control with his father. The silly childish feelings swept over him. He shook them away, building all the might he could to pull the door open again. The sudden action startling his father.
"Don't be stupid, Shrek."
His father wasn't welcoming, nor did he seem pleased to see him. He hadn't changed as much as Shrek would have expected, though, knowing his father, it didn't surprise him. The only change being how badly he'd aged over the years. It all made sense.
He narrowed his eyes, "I'm not. Not really stupid t'steer clear of the person who once threw me at a bunch of hunters, hm?" He was met with silence, a glare. "I don't care why ye here, I don't care what ya want, I want ye gone. Not interested," he went to throw the door closed again, but Fiona suddenly at his side, holding the door open.
"Why are you here?" she asked him carefully.
His father's gaze moved to her, he looked her up and down, taking a step back. Fiona didn't need introducing, it was obvious, and Shrek had no intention of indulging in any pleasantries.
"It doesn't take much t'find ya. I came by a few weeks ago, but everything was empty."
Shrek was aware that a few weeks ago he was on the island. It was too much of a coincidence to have just happened by chance.
"What makes ya think I'd wanna see you?"
"Nothin'. I didn't think ya would at all," he sighed, "But- I have some of ya mother's and sister's things an' I thought ye might want it."
Fiona's face alit at the mention of his sister, she stared at him in surprise.
"I know Mirele and Yera would've wanted you t'have 'em over me, so here."
Shrek snatched it out of his father's hand, "Ye could'a left it on the porch when you came by last time."
His father rolled his eyes, "I'm leavin' now then."
"Good. Don't come back."
He turned away. Shrek was about to throw the door closed once more when-
"Wait," Fiona spoke quickly, "Don't you want to see your son?" she spoke carefully at him.
The ogre stopped, though he didn't turn back.
"Fiona-"
"You came to find him, you must have some remorse about how things went back then," she ignored her husband's protest. She turned to him, she was sincere, it made him want to roll his eyes. "If he feels remorse for it, wouldn't you at least want to talk?"
Shrek sighed, he knew she wasn't about to drop anything, "Talking won't fix anything," he stated.
"I know," she nodded at him, "You don't have to fix anything. You don't have to do anything other than talk," she paused, "I can imagine you have a lot to say to each other."
Shrek sighed again. He did have a lot to say, but at the same time nothing at all. He'd pushed the words away long ago. However, his dad looked back. They briefly met each other's gaze before quickly looking away. Shrek felt Fiona take hold of his arm and squeeze it gently.
"All you have to say is okay," she offered it to them.
His father still didn't leave, in fact, he turned back to them. Shrek could feel him watching him, waiting for the answer. Everything in his head was telling him to say no. "Okay," Shrek spoke begrudgingly. He sighed impatiently, he wanted to make it perfectly clear to his father that this wasn't something he needed.
Though, as Fiona's gaze was transferred to his dad, Shrek found himself peering curiously too.
"Okay," his tone didn't match the casual shrug he gave them.
It wasn't long before the three of them were sat on the porch, having moved some of the dining chairs outside. Fiona was sat nearest the children's window. Shrek expected her to be passive, half listening for them. But she wasn't. She very much led the conversation. She asked Bulven about what he'd been up to, he didn't say much, there wasn't much to it. He brushed it off. Fiona offered for Shrek to tell his own stories, he had a lot more to say, but he didn't want to. He decided on a select few with exaggeration on how much he enjoyed being alone and without his father. He could tell his dad was interested, more interested than he wanted to let on. Neither of them asked any questions despite how much they wanted to. Shrek knew any of the questions he wanted to ask would lead to an explosive argument, he was tempted, but he didn't. His father had more; he would glance to the house, to the children's window. Shrek could see him studying Fiona, he knew something was strange about her. Shrek both did and didn't want to tell him. His father wouldn't be happy about it, a small, sadistic, spiteful part of him wanted to show Fiona who his father really was. But Shrek wasn't about to bring up a new topic on his own. That was Fiona's job, both he and his father were relying a lot on her in that moment. She knew how to conduct small talk, she knew what to ask to get a conversation going. It worked; not amazingly, but well enough. It was awkward at best, Shrek found himself silently praying for a visitor to come, dominate the conversation. For once he wanted Donkey to show up and invite himself in. It would certainly spook his father and make him leave.
The dwindling conversation was interrupted by a child's soft sleepy voice through the window. Fiona leapt up from where she sat. They met each other's gazes, neither of them wanting to involve the children in this odd encounter. No one was ready for that, Shrek didn't think he'd ever be ready for that. Fiona left quickly. They stared at the door she disappeared into, then slowly turned to look at each other.
"This changes nothing," Shrek spoke firmly, "Yer not welcome t'come by whenever ye like, yer not welcome around my kids, ye not welcome to know more about us..."
"I know," Bulven spoke in a quieter voice than Shrek expected, "I don't expect any of that, I'm not an idiot, Shrek. I expected an argument an' fer me t'leave."
Shrek narrowed his eyes a little, "Then why'd ye come back after ye swung by the first time?"
Bulven sat back defensively, "I didn't- I-I..." he paused, looking down in thought, "I just wanted t'see ye, just-just... see ye."
It shocked the ogre into silence, he clenched his jaw.
His father shrugged noncommittally, "Wanted t'see what ye... yanno, looked like an' that. It's been years since last... since then, since ye were young, an' ye've grown..." he stumbled through an explanation.
Shrek watched him, he didn't know what to say. It was odd to him, and yet at the same time it made sense, even if he didn't feel like his father really deserved it. If his kids went away and stayed gone for years, he'd want to know what they'd look like, even if it was an argument. Part of him felt uncomfortable comparing he and his father to what he had with his own children. His father hadn't been particularly fatherly, but it added up; after becoming a father himself, after seeing the flashbacks, after everything. Something was different now. Shrek could see the regret on his face. As a child, he saw his dad as a monster, a real one. But now, as he beheld the aged, sad looking ogre, he realised he was just someone who didn't know how to handle things. He didn't know how to handle disappointment, or anger, or show affection. He only knew how to push everything away. Shrek realised how close he was to being that way himself.
There was another voice from one of the kids, Fiona softly replying. Shrek didn't have to say anything, it made his father look more uncomfortable than he already was.
"I should go," he spoke quickly, standing.
Shrek nodded, he didn't move.
"Say..." he briefly gestured to the window before pausing, "Uh-Shrek... ye know where I am," he mumbled.
The ogre nodded again, not that he ever intended to go there. They nodded at each other and his father left, not quite in a hurry, but not quite leisurely either. Once he was out of sight, Shrek felt like he could breathe again. He sighed, relieved. It definitely wasn't the welcome home he was expecting. The ogre almost smiled, before he caught sight of the sack his father had given him, sitting next to the door. He stared at it grimly for a small while, barely registering his wife beginning to softly sing to the children once again.
Finally, he grabbed the bag and quickly headed into the house. He glanced in the way of the children's bedroom, catching Fiona's attention through the open door. He looked away quickly, avoiding the table within her sight and retreated to the safety of their room, closing the curtain behind him. He dropped the bag onto the bed and stared at it some more. He had no idea what was inside, he wondered what his father had thought to keep, and yet he didn't want to look. He was staring at it so intently, it startled him a little hearing the soft sound of the curtains being gently pulled back. Fiona didn't say anything, but he could hear her watching him. The ogre took a breath, gathering courage, he didn't want to hesitate in front of her. He didn't want her to know how he felt about a small bag of things from his past. Especially when he didn't really understand the feelings himself.
Shrek barely opened the sack of belongings before he tightened the rope again. Something about it made him feel sick to his stomach. The smell was uncomfortably familiar, the childish associations only seemed to create an odd feeling of nausea and anxiety. He stepped away from it, ignoring Fiona's presence in the entrance to their room.
"Are you okay?" she spoke softly.
"Aye," he lied.
"Are you sure?"
He paused, shrugging, "It's fine," he brushed it off.
She gently approached him, hugging him a little. He put his arm around her. He didn't want to look at her, nor the jumble of memories. He could hear his wife's hesitant breath, she wanted to say something.
"Can I look?" Fiona finally asked him, hesitantly.
He nodded, gesturing to it. He took a step back as she began untying the rope holding it all together. He slipped out of the room quickly and quietly, skirting the curtain along the rail for good measure. The ogre looked around the room, the calming presence it had provided before all but disappeared. He was restless, not knowing what to think about, not knowing what to do. He stared at the curtains once again, where his wife was looking through things he was too afraid to think about. Well... he wasn't afraid, he tried to reason with himself. He felt an odd urge to tell her that. To try again. Or even to tell her to not bother, to burn everything instead. Before he could truly think about it, his legs were carrying him back into the room. Though he was stopped in his tracks. Fiona was stood in front of the sack, holding a little sewn together bear, tears were sparkling in her eyes. She turned to him silently, giving him a small smile.
"This is beautiful," she commented.
He took a breath, grunting in effort to seem noncommittal.
She gently opened the bag in his direction, "Did you want to look?"
"No," he shook his head, his answer almost immediate.
"Okay," she accepted it quickly, looking back down at what she held, "Was this your little sister's?"
"Yera's, aye," he spoke carefully, "My older sister actually."
She paused, raising her eyebrows in surprise. "Why didn't you tell me?" the question was innocent and nonconfrontational, despite asking this question a lot to him recently.
"If I'd told ya, ye'd ask about it," he explained himself in short. There was no point in hiding anything anymore.
Fiona nodded her acceptance, there was much she didn't tell him about her past. The nightmares she had told him enough. "What do you want to do with it?" she put the toy back into the bag.
The idea of throwing it all into the fire re-emerged in his mind, he opened his mouth to say it, but the words wouldn't come out. He shrugged, the voices of his past clear in his mind after the flashbacks. Without missing a beat, his wife nodded, she pulled the rope tight, closing the sack. She took it and put it out of sight, under her vanity.
Fiona turned to him, watching him, waiting to see if he'd say anything more. The only thing his mind could comprehend was how much he loved her. He thought back to when they had argued over the tradition, how angry she was about him hiding things; rightly so, he couldn't help but admit. But this was different. Her acceptance and understanding was far more than he deserved. As much as she hid things about the tower, she didn't have much to tell. He had a lot of memories and experiences he'd never shared in their five years of marriage. A fact she couldn't be too comfortable with, but she understood anyway. He never deserved her and he never would.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled the words before he could think about them.
Her brow creased, "For what?"
"Fer... I just- It's... Fer everything," he sighed, "Fer everything that happened back there, fer hiding the tradition, fer hiding this," he gestured to her hiding place. The exhaustion hit him. "We've been married fer so long and yer perfect, Fiona, an' I'm... I'm..."
"It's okay," she quietly interrupted him, "It is," she insisted as he opened his mouth to protest. "I love you, Shrek," the corner of her lips curled into a small smile, "I love you because you're you. No one is perfect," she shook away the compliment he'd given her, "We all have troubles we have to overcome," she explained herself, "You said he threw you in front of hunters... I don't know what happened to your mom and sister but they're not here. You hate him so much, that's clear... You were so nervous about the kids, and yet despite all of that, everything, you're still everything they'll ever need in a father."
He looked down. She told him often how good of a father and a husband he was, genuinely or in reply to his own concerns. He never truly believed her, he believed more in proof than words. He knew he wasn't necessarily a bad parent or husband, despite certain events happening in the past. His children adored him and his wife loved him, it was enough proof to get him through the doubts. Still, there were moments he didn't want to forgive himself for, the past month was another one to add to the list.
"I know what it's like to keep a secret," Fiona gently continued through his silence, "I know why secrets happen, even if they're not good for you," she gave him a tentative smile. "Maybe we should start on a clean slate," her smile grew into a mischievous grin. She slowly approached him and held out her hand. He stared at it in confusion. She giggled and took his hand into a handshake, "Hello, my name is Fiona," she stated simply. "I'm a princess, I was cursed as a child and spent half my life locked in a tower... we can talk about that later."
A unwilling smile spread over his face, he stifled a laugh, "Well, nice t'meet ya, Princess, but I might just have ye beat."
He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her, they laughed.
"Oh really?" Fiona raised her brow playfully.
"Mhm," he nodded, not quite wanting to play along just yet. Instead, he kissed her, everything fleetingly leaving his mind for a moment.
"Mom! Felicia and Farkle keep whispering!"
Their kiss was brought to an abrupt end. Shrek's demeanour dropped, sighing as they both looked to the children's room, their son standing in the doorway.
"Hey," Fiona looked back to him, "It could be worse," she smiled, pulling away, the moment over.
"Aye," he admitted, "But we could've never had 'em in the first place, then none of this would've happened," he smirked at her.
"True," she briefly looked over her shoulder, "Or I could've chosen humanity and we'd have stayed in Far Far Away forever."
"Oh aye... Maybe ye could've kept yer secret forever and married Farquaad. We'd have parted as unlikely friends," he tried to best her, chuckling.
"Maybe I shouldn't have even been cursed in the first place," she laughed back before finally taking on a serious exterior as she entered the children's room.
Shrek stood, hands on his hips, staring at the empty doorway once again. He smiled. They could deal with their past. He'd learnt over time that they could deal with anything... because despite all the bad, their present was good. He intended to make the future much the same.
THE END.
AN: I kept planning things I'd put in this author's note at the end... But honestly, I don't even know what to say. I'm so glad it's done, but I'm actuallygonna have to give it up now. This is the final version. No more changes. This is an intervention, Hannah. No more changes.
I've not asked for reviews throughout the chapters because I feel like I'm kind of cheating in the review count (I'm a giant memory hoarder and refuse to delete and start again – more issues of mine). But I would really love to know what you think of everything now it's done! Yanno, reviews are super encouraging in terms of indicating interest for more in this mostly dead and decaying fandom, wink wink. Well less this one and more the new one, nudge nudge.
That being said, thank you so much for reading! This is a long one, you've invested quite some time into my weird creation and I really appreciate that. The few people I've personally told about this hobby have all told me to write my own original fiction to pursue publishing but I don't want to. This makes me happy and I know uploading this makes a few other people happy and that's enough for me.
If you made it this far, you're amazing. I hope you have a lovely day/night.
