A/N: Hey I'm back with another chapter. Just a heads up – this'll have about maybe two chapters left till I'm done. After several PM's begging for my own version of Rumpelstiltskin's fairy tale (and much bitching to hurry the hell up) I've decided to write it in as well before the end since it doesn't have enough meat on it to make it a separate one-shot. Anyway, this chapter, and the one after, is written in Fiona's point of view. Not much more I've got to say so... Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Dreamworks and you're insane for ever thinking I do.

"D'ye hear tha'?"

With an effort, Fiona broke out of the meditative trance dish washing always made her slip into. She's always hated the monotonous dip of the plate, the hypnotic swirl of the bubbles and the resulting wrinkles on her hands. How Cinderella found comfort in such things was beyond her. Fiona listened closely and found nothing out of the ordinary. Farkle and Felicia were playing with their toys and Fargus still hasn't left her knee, content enough to play with his blocks at her side. Everything was quiet for the most part. Not the kind of silence that warrants any worry, but... the usual. Normal and familiar.

"What am I listening for?" she asked her husband as she handed him a plate to dry over the drip of the water pump.

"Singing," said Shrek with a look of such disgust on his face she would've thought it humorous if he hadn't said it so seriously. "He's sung tha' same song thirty-four times inna row. Finally stopped."

"Mmm? I hadn't noticed..." Fiona bit back a laugh and straightened her face into what she hoped was a neutral expression. Of course she's noticed, hard not to with a voice like that. She just didn't mind it. You learn to tune out small annoyances like that when you've had Donkey as a friend for so long after all.

"Thirty-four times, Fiona."

But Shrek never really learned to tune out such things for Donkey, so why would anyone else be an exception?

"It's a real good song," Fiona said innocently as she could and even hummed a bit of what she knew. She really shouldn't bait him since it'll get him going, but the whole thing seemed so funny, it was hard not to.

"Tha's a bit of an understatement," Shrek glanced her way with a smile playing around his lips. "I'd say the weirdo's finally gone 'round the bend."

Fiona's smile faded as she felt an old annoyance and uneasiness creep up her spine. Not so long ago, she could've said the same about herself. The constant suffocation of imprisonment. The slow, and very conscious drip as you lose your mind with every passing minute. She knew it all too well. You never forget such things. Whenever her eyes catch a passing glimpse of the cage outside the window, she couldn't help but be reminded of it.

Fiona's first few years locked away in that tower were hazy in her memory; exploring the ruined castle while Dragon slept and getting accustomed to being alone. At first, she was excited about the idea of living in an actual fairy tale like her parents had assured her. Naturally, such things always appear a romantic adventure to a child full of wonder and easily awed by magic... but as the years passed, the magic grew stale as the constant loneliness wore on her. Maybe she went 'round the bend herself after the innocence of youth died and the impact of solitude hit her full force. Her thoughts just slipped away and went for a walk; didn't ask for directions and stayed lost. If singing the same song thirty-four times in a row is considered a sure sign of losing your mind, Fiona lost hers a million times over long ago. Caged birds don't sing. They scream. Sane ears just can't hear it for what it really is.

"That reminds me... when do you plan on letting him go?" Fiona asked casually, as was her habit every few days ever since Rumpelstiltskin became their unwilling garden gnome.

When Shrek came back the day after the children's birthday with a little man in an iron cage and told her what had occurred the day before, she understood the need to make Rumpelstiltskin pay for what almost happened. Granted, she didn't appreciate how their whole lives could have been undone over something so petty and it hurt to find out, but at least the whole adventure showed him how much he stands to lose and his love for her and the children only intensified after that. It's hard, no matter how rewarding, being a parent and husband can be. The daily grind, the need for release. It was a big change from the privacy and solitude his bachelor life gave him. Still is sometimes... and she doesn't blame him. She understands more then ever now.

For a long time, she thought they had been cultivating the perfect relationship. Past mistakes hidden from each other, tucked away; happy and safe. Complacent. But to be fully lounged within that comfort zone carried severe implications. To please someone perfectly, you must understand them perfectly. And doing so, he couldn't defy her expectations without failing. They failed to understand each other in so many ways. Only now does she finally feel how it could have restricted his life's expectations, stuck within the domestic routine and out of his element. He needed to feel alive; a reminder that he wasn't just a husband and father. Needed to be an ogre again. He needed, sometimes, to be immune to her touch. And so, she didn't argue when Shrek decided to keep a prisoner on their lawn; it brought him satisfaction. It made him feel like himself.

But as soon as Fiona started to see the first signs of Rumpelstiltskin's initial (and oftentimes humorous) outrage fading away and slipping into an almost catatonic acceptance; like a healthy man resigned to living in a hospice, did things strike a chord of disgust in her about the lengths Shrek went to keep a living trophy of his accomplishments, too stubborn to let things go. Disgust at herself for watching the very same things she went through like a silent spectator; letting it all happen. If Shrek felt the need to keep a guilty reminder of how close he was to losing his family, keeping someone in a cage for so long wasn't the way to go about it.

"I dunno, Fiona... Were yeh ever planing on tellin' me what you two been talking about when you slip out at night to give him treats?"

A dish slipped from her hands and clattered back into the sink as her heart gave a sudden jump into her throat. "Eventually," she admitted a bit more calmly then she felt. Fiona never planned on keeping it a secret or lying to her husband forever, but it still didn't ready her for the argument that was sure to follow now that he's called her out on it. "It's not doing any harm, so I didn't think to tell you right away... at least not until you'd let him go. How did you find out?"

"Not very sneaky leavin' a shopping list of stuff we don't really eat where I can find it." Well... she's never had any practice at being sneaky. That's got to count or something. "If it's not doin' any harm why keep it a secret, eh Princess?" Shrek's voice took a biting edge, and she bristled at the mocking nickname but he had a point. She shouldn't have kept it secret. After everything he's been through – they've been through together– she should have told him sooner to lessen the blow of finding out himself. "Wus'e been tellin' you?"

"What I was like," she said without any hesitation. There seriously wasn't anything wrong about their conversations so there wasn't any reason why she should sensor herself to his interrogation. "The things I did in the resistance when he was king. How I highjacked delivery trucks meant for him... How he met me at sword point once..." And how Rumpelstiltskin so readily admitted they met many times after...

There wasn't any reason to sensor herself... but she felt the need to do so anyway.

Those stories... they belonged to her. A small and fragile piece of herself that made her feel invincible; strong and defiant. It's everything she wished she could have been had Shrek never saved her from her imprisonment. When Rumpelstiltskin describes the way she spoke with fearless wit and cynicism, she couldn't help but secretly steal away a bit of his words inside and make believe – if only for a moment – that it was herself he was speaking of. His words helped remind her that she was something to be admired. Not a wife and mother. Not just an ogress or a damsel in distress. Just like Shrek needed to feel like a real ogre, she needed to feel like something other than herself.

"Oh, did he now?" Shrek let out a humorless chuckle but she coolly nodded in agreement and passed him another plate to dry as if they weren't having an argument at all and just a small disagreement. They haven't had a shouting match in a long while, and she wasn't about to break the record now. "And did yeh ever get the wild hair that he might be lying?"

She did, naturally, and she accepted the idea the three nights ago when she first decided to speak to him. He gains nothing lying to her, no... but he doesn't gain anything by telling the truth either and a hot meal isn't much of a motivator. A part of her still wonders why he didn't just as easily ask for his freedom in return but whatever his reasons, she was glad for it. Knowing what she feels whenever she closes her eyes and listens to his words, she wasn't so sure she would have turned down his offer. Fiona was skeptical at first since he was well known for being a cheat, but while he only twisted words to his own liking, he always kept them and that made all the difference. Their deal was so vague on the details, it would be nearly impossible to for him to bend them to whatever suits his fancy. It wasn't even big enough to include an exit clause. And so, she couldn't help but believe him. If anything, talking about his failures so candidly was an obvious sign of how sincere his was. So, in a small way... she trusted him.

"I thought of that, yes," Fiona continued and stepped carefully out of Fargus's way since he thought that now would be a good time to sit on her toes and use her dress as a tent to build a fort of blocks around. "And it doesn't really matter. It gives him something to think up during the day if he's lying... and if he's not … it feels good to know that I didn't just stay in that tower forever without you."

"Don't gui – "

"Shrek – please. You always forget about it, but I still remember. It's something I try hard everyday to get over and you and the kids are they only things that made everything worth it." Fiona finally pulled the plug with a bit more venom then she would have normally done and like always out of the corner of her eye, she could plainly see the cage in the distance. She needed to get control of this and come back to the subject at hand. "One year is long enough -"

"He took everything from me. Everythin'! My family, my friends, years of your life! It wasn't a walk in the park having t'see what happened to you without me. One year isn't enough. He stays for every year you had to wait fo'me. It's only fair -"

"I'm not defending him or making excuses," Fiona turned to face him finally. They've been over this before, but she wasn't just going to drop it this time. Not anymore. "But it's not fair, having the kids grow up around that. It's not fair to me having to watch what hurt me so much, happen to someone else. Sometimes when he talks... it's like he's not even there and – and I see myself !"

She could feel the tension rising in the space between him, but he fell silent and she was grateful. He was trying to understand, but he just didn't know how to. Couldn't see past his resentment. Shrek never asked how she lived her life in that tower, and so she's never told him. It made everything easier on the both of them that way; to just assume she was cozy up there, waiting for her prince charming. It's so very comforting to think that dark chapter of her life never happened before he stumbled into it. Perhaps she should have told him a long time go. She didn't know why it mattered right now at this moment – washing the dishes – but she felt the need to tell him. Let him know that bad singing and telling tales was the last thing on the list of annoyances right now.

"I used to sing constantly when I was locked in that tower," Fiona said finally and watched the last of the soapy water circle the drain. "The echoes made me feel like I wasn't alone. I used to – "

"Fiona -"

" – have tea parties with the singed bones of my would be rescuers," Fiona talked over him. He needed to hear this. "I even gave a few of them names," a bark of laughter she couldn't contain broke through and she had to run a hand through her hair to compose herself. "Sir William wanted to be an artist, but Sir Jayden, always crushed his dreams and held him back -"

"I get it a'right," Shrek cut her off with a pained look on his face and she fell silent. She didn't blame him for not wanting to hear the details. Insanity's funny when you're not thinking about it, sure. But there's nothing funny when you picture a teenage girl with no one to talk to and desperate enough to make idle chitchat with a grinning skull. "Cripes, Fiona... Still doesn't make it right for what yeh did, goin' behind mah back like tha'."

"Maybe I should have told you … and maybe it's not right to encourage his stories …" or encourage herself "... but it felt good to know that I wouldn't have cracked if you hadn't come for me," she admitted. "I always thought I would."

Shrek gave a deep sigh. "Yeh always make me out to look like a bad guy, y'know tha'?"

"I know you'll think about letting him go because you're not a bad guy," Fiona smiled softly and grasped his hand in hers to let him know she wasn't angry. She's not sorry and he knows this, but apologizing for something you'd gladly do again doesn't count.

"A'right – I'll … I'm going out for a bit. And I'll think about it. " She knows the routine by now. He'll fuss and throw around a few words before walking off to blow some steam, but he'll understand. He loves her. "Y'know that means we'll have t'get a new babysitter righ'?"

Oh, how will they ever fill the position of deranged-prisoner babysitter now? Good help is so hard to come by nowadays...

"Shrek – just go and be back in time for dinner."

As soon Shrek said his goodbys to the children and the door swung shut, Fiona found herself internally counting slowly to one-hundred. It wasn't until she reached sixty did she realize, she was readying herself to tell Rumpelstiltskin the news. No matter how selfish it might sound, in a way … she almost regrets bringing up the subject of his freedom. It felt as if she were burying a new friend she's barely gotten to know. No more stories of that far off world of what ifs. No more verbal sparring with the tyrant king she's secretly grown to like the taste of. Maybe it was best he didn't know about it. He's been locked up for so long, what difference would one more day make? If he knew that there was even the slightest chance that he would be set free... he might not feel so inclined to talk about anything with her...

But there's always the chance he wouldn't care.

After several minutes, one glance out the window informed her that Shrek had disappeared from view down the road, probably on his way to visit Donkey for a change, and that Rumpelstiltskin was currently hanging upside down from his cage. The look on his face was hard to discern in the distance, but he had a certain stillness about him that was almost troubling... Fiona sighed, annoyed that she'd even go so far as to entertain the thought of visiting right now since it wouldn't be a good idea after what transpired. Shrek might find out and it could result in a worse argument later, possibly even change his mind entirely about giving Rumpelstiltskin his freedom...

And she did want his freedom. Of course she did.

"Farkle! Stay where I can see you!" Fiona called, distracting Farkle momentarily from his mud fight with Fargus and getting an impressive spatter of it on the back of his head.

"I loved playing in dirt as a kid," Rumpelstiltskin said, face ruddy from hanging upside down. "Used to do nothin' but dig holes all day."

"I can't picture you as a child," Fiona bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. "I bet you were so little, you'd need three staircases just to reach the toilet."

"Ha ha... real cute. Didja make that one up all by yourself?"

"Aren't you proud?"

"Little bit – yeah."

Fiona would like to think that she merely wanted to exhaust the kids before dinner with a good mud fight. It was a nice day after all. The sun was high in the sky, a soft breeze flowing playfully in her hair... no point staying cooped up on a day like this. She also liked to think that there's nothing wrong in hanging the wash to dry a little bit closer then she normally did to Rumpelstiltskin's cage since the sunlight pooled perfectly in that exact spot, ensuring Felicia's blanket will dry much faster to end her fussing. None of these coincidences had anything to do with the fact that the very subject of her thoughts was hanging no more then ten feet away, watching as she hung up her blankets.

"If you're here for the usual – " Rumpelstiltskin sighed before dropping down onto the bottom of the cage with a rattle of iron. " – you've used it up for the day. Gotta wait until tomorrow. Deals a deal, yeah?"

She'd liked to believe any of those things... but it wasn't true and he guessed as much. No matter how much she tries, she just can't keep secrets from herself. His enticing words of another world, of another woman, affected her in a way she's never felt before. Sure, Shrek's told her what he could about that once warrior ogress... but not the side of her that Rumpelstiltskin knew. Once having tasted that small sliver of independence, however briefly, it's hard to look at things the same way again. She's found herself many times these past few days with whatever small decision, wondering what she would've done if she were her. She knew it was silly; that there's hardly any difference between one Fiona to another except the circumstances to which they were molded from... but she couldn't help the flutter of excitement and flattery that ran through her veins whenever Rumpelstiltskin spoke of her. Maybe it was selfish of her to want these things, but there wasn't any harm in it. At least... not as far as she knew.

"How about..." Fiona dug around for a subject, slightly disappointed that she had forgotten about the terms of their deal, but resolute to make something out of it anyway. It's just like him to tease her with something he knows she wants. After a few moments, her thoughts settled on a subject she's recently had on her mind on restlessly these past few days. "Let's talk about you."

"For...?"

"For nothing. Just to talk," she replied and paused with the barest of smiles before stooping again for more laundry to hang, determined to show him not everything has a cost.

"And ruin my mystique for free?" Rumpelstiltskin smiled back toothily through the bars. "Not gonna happen. You'd make a crappy salesman, Fiona. You're trying to make me buy something, but not doing a good job at making me want the product."

"So, what would you want?"

"Ever wonder how nature allowed those demon things your friend calls 'babies'?" Rumpelstiltskin said after a moments pause, eyes on the distant forms of her children playing. It was an obvious change of subject, and not the kind she wanted, but she had to silently agree. She's often wondered the very same thing herself. How did Donkey and Dragon have babies? – mechanics aside.

"What went where, how often, and if it was painful... It's gotta be illegal somewhere. Those things are just plain... freaky."

"You sound like you've put a lot of thought into it," she laughed despite the strange path their conversation was going.

He spread his arms as wide as they could, as if he meant to lay the blame of his train of thoughts on the very cage itself. "I ain't got anything better to do."

"Then I'm sure you've thought of what you'll do when you get out of here," she prodded, determined to get back to the subject at hand. "Where will you go from here?"

The quilt blurred out of focus as she trained her eyes past it to have a glimpse of his expression. She supposed no one ever thinks about the person behind the villein; the quill that writes their character. Perhaps no one ever does because it makes them look human. It's far easier to believe they don't enjoy the things that any regular person would. That they didn't laugh at something other than someone's misfortune or didn't have their own good hearted ambitions. He definitely looked human right now; his smile not as clever us it normally was, eyes not a sharp. As if he wasn't so sure about it himself and didn't know what to feel about it. A part of her wished she hadn't persisted in her line of questioning, but the other half was too curious to let the subject of uncomfortable offspring change her mind.

"I've thought of that...yeah," he shrugged after a few moments. "Take a look to see if my carriage is still around. Might've been picked clean by now. Start over. Settle down and get back into my old trade..."

"Shrek got rid of the ink."

"I got a stash somewhere..." A sly smile surfaces briefly and she's hardly surprised. Someone clever enough to change the entire course of history and bend reality in such a way, must have some sort of contingency plan. "But nah... won't go back to that full time. Goldsmithing was my trade. Good at it too. Even had a king as my exclusive costumer. Made gold into anything – fine jewelry, minted coins, designed a throne –"

"So, you're saying there's truth to the whole 'spinning straw into gold' thing?" Fiona bit the inside of her lip to conceal her excitement. She's always loved the magical thrill that fairy tales give her. Maybe it was because of the fact she never quite liked her own. It was her only vice when she was growing up, lacking the world she longed to be a part of, she could only glimpse it briefly through the musty books she treasured while she was locked away.

"Something like that, yeah." He said with a slow smile that stretched up the side of his face, strangely attractive and all the more so because he knew it was. She blocked her view with a pillowcase just to have a reason not to look at him.

"Well?"

"What will you give me if I tell you the whole story? The real version."

A lot of things came to mind. Many of them, things she shouldn't be thinking and a few she thought of anyway, if things had been different. If the circumstances would have allowed... if she were her. Once again, her mind circled that drain, coming back to the same thing. She wasn't her, he says... but why did she insist she was? What was she, other then some bitter and tired shell of what she once was? Back in that tower. Before anything had a chance to happen, or never could. All of these things were a blur of in her mind as she watched her children play without seeing, blissfully quiet and yielding. If she could just close her eyes, only for a moment, she could block everything out and... and...

"Well?"

Fiona opened her eyes, suddenly annoyed and unsure of why that was. "Isn't the sound of your own voice payment enough?"

For a moment, Fiona wasn't quite sure if those very words came out of her mouth. Her manner usually wasn't so biting, no matter who she was speaking to. Perhaps it was Rumpelstiltskin that brought it out of her. That half dream she often feels whenever he's near, softly whispering her words in her ear. She hoped to never fully wake.

"Sure, but you've always liked the sound of it too," He winked. "Alright, how 'bout an even trade? I'll tell you what I haven't told anyone, and you'll answer a question of my choosing."

Fiona hung the last of the sheets while she thought this over, silently fuming at his stubbornness. It couldn't even be called an 'even' trade. She knows what she's getting, whereas she can't imagine what he'll ask of her. But what did she really expect – that he'd spew forth his story to someone he's got every reason to hate? She might have not been the one to lock him up in that cage, no... but she didn't do anything about it either. She imagined that these past few days of asking him to relive his failures might have been all the more crueler rather then just leaving things alone to smolder... But where would she be now if none of it had ever happened? If she hadn't been in such a foul mood that day while bringing him his meager lunch. Would she have been happier? Living in complacency? Never knowing anything else?

It didn't take long after that to make up her mind. "Deal," she said, and she can finally understand the satisfaction he might have at saying those very same words.

It felt good, even if she didn't know what was coming.

A/N: Thanks for reading (if you still are after the long ass wait)!