"Here." Lillian raised her eyebrows at a photo she held. "This is your mother when she was just a little younger than you." She placed it in front of her three grandchildren, on the other side of the table she was sitting at with them. Their faces lit up as they saw it. It was one of the last photos of Fiona before she disappeared to the tower. It was the photo Lillian had treasured the very most while her daughter was away.

Lillian had shown them Fiona's childhood photos before, when they were young. They had been too young to really appreciate them. Now, at fourteen years old, already standing as tall as her, she figured they were grown up enough to see it all again.

The woman sat back and watched them for a moment. They were too engrossed to notice her gaze change. She only got to see them a few times a year and she treasured every second of it. They were growing so quickly, too quickly, Lillian would have given anything to make them stop. Except… Felicia looked just like Fiona and they were at the age where Lillian had missed her own daughter growing up. She was selfishly a little excited to see her granddaughter get older, to gauge what Fiona looked like through her teen years. Though, Felicia wasn't exactly like Fiona in other ways. Even as an ogre, Fiona's royal upbringing was noticeable in the neat way she styled her hair and the dresses she chose to wear. Felicia's long hair was left down, roughly pinned up at one side. The faded pink dress had frayed edges and was draped with a rough, unbuttoned, brown cardigan. Lillian could see she had been practicing embroidery on the bottom of the cardigan, little uneven swirls and stars filled one edge.

Though the boys had more of their father in them, they still facially resembled Fiona a lot. Farkle had thick hair that matched his mother and sister's. Though short, looking down at the photos it often fell in his face - scooping his hair back had almost become a subconscious habit of his. He had a worn, patched, blue tunic, the sleeves creeping up his wrists as he grew faster than his siblings, taller than both of them already. Fergus had his father's brown hair, recognisable to Lillian only through that one terrible day they experienced many years ago. Though, Lillian couldn't imagine he would have his hair very long, what with his father and grandfather's genetics. Though, Fergus's attire wasn't patched or frayed like his siblings'. Still a little worn, his brown burlap tunic, partially covered in a lighter brown jacket, was held together well.

When they had visited the castle as younger children, Fiona had controlled their appearance, choosing to dress them in royal attire like she did herself. However, as they got older – as children do – her daughter gave up, and let them have their own way. After being grateful for Fiona's thoughtfulness, it surprised Lillian with how little their clothing choices bothered her. It brought the woman a sense of relief and joy in how they were allowed to express themselves, something she wished she had allowed with their mother.

"This is grandpa, right?" Fergus turned a photo at her, recapturing her attention.

Lillian adjusted her glasses-

"No… that's the one grandma was having an affair with," Farkle quipped quickly with a smirk, raising an eyebrow at his brother.

Lillian chuckled at his humour. The colourless photo in question was one of herself and Harold, he had an arm around her waist, she was carrying a bundled-up baby Fiona. "Yes dear, that's your grandfather and I."

"You look so young, grandma," Felicia commented, meeting her gaze, smiling.

"I was young." Lillian laughed, she took the photo from her grandson. "Goodness, such a long time ago." Her eyes drifted to the way her once delicate fingers wrinkled. She handed it back to him.

Fergus passed it on to Farkle who was looking quickly through a stack he'd picked up, carelessly passing them to his sister. Felicia's brow crossed. "You're mixing up the order, Farkle, stop," she accused of him.

He raised a smug eyebrow at her. "What order?"

"Yeah, Fel, they're all mixed up," Fergus confirmed the state of the photos, peering past his brother at her.

Farkle shook his head, chuckling. "Not everything is my fault huh," he mumbled at her, before glancing quickly at his grandmother. They were often told not to fight in front of her.

Lillian hid a smirk. "No no, they're not in order anymore, the three of you saw to that the last time I showed you."

They laughed, recalling the memory they'd probably forgotten they had. Farkle only continued to flick through the photos faster, Fergus also watching them intently.

"Farkle, slow down!" Felicia insisted, taking the photos he'd dismissed away from him.

Fergus had his brow crossed as his brother tossed more to their sister. "Grandma, where are the photos of mom when she was an ogre?"

"Yeah, I wanna see if Felicia looks like dad at all," Farkle commented, elbowing her.

Lillian sucked in a slow breath as she realised her grandsons' plight, blinking at them. "Well… I'm afraid, there are none."

"Oh."

The smiles vanished from each of their faces, hands frozen, as they looked down at the photos in front of them.

Lillian wanted nothing more than for something sudden to happen, to move the focus onto something else. All the faulty explanations she had given to her daughter as a child came rushing back to her - she thought they were long gone. Events were long made up for with Fiona. Lillian never thought she would have to confront them again.

Farkle looked up, meeting her gaze. "Why?" It almost seemed challenging to her. Felicia immediately elbowed him, slipping him a glare.

Their awareness of the situation was far higher than she expected at their age. Lillian furrowed her brow, trying to get her thoughts into order.

"It's okay," Fergus tried to intervene quickly. "We know," he spoke simply.

"No, it's quite alright," she brushed off her grandson's diversion. She shifted a little in her seat, delicately taking off her glasses. "Your grandfather and I, we made some mistakes with your mother."

They quietly watched her as she tried to collect herself. She owed them as much of an explanation as she did their mother. "We very much tried to pretend what happened to her at night didn't exist." Their faces seemed to grow apprehensive at the same time. She glanced down at the table, away from them. "You see, what we thought would happen was that your mother would marry a human, become human forever and we wouldn't need to acknowledge what happened in the past. Well… we thought that she would appreciate there being no evidence of it." The triplets were silent as she paused. The sadness in their faces felt like a stab wound in her chest; the guilt she had felt for so many years, long gone, washed over her once again.

"Is that what you wanted?" Fergus's voice was quiet and curious.

She took a breath, there was no use lying to them. "Yes," she nodded, "I very much wanted that at the time. But your mother taught me a lot, as have you. I know now the way we treated Fiona wasn't fair at all. It wasn't kind. And in turn, it isn't kind to you either." She closed her hands in her lap. "I feel terribly about it, and I hope you can forgive me."

They were quiet for a moment, it felt like forever. They were glancing at each other, none of them wanting to be the first to speak.

Felicia was the first to open her mouth. "Did you not like us?" She didn't meet Lillian's eye. It wasn't the forgiveness the grandmother had been hoping for. But it was a question with a much surer answer-

"Never," Lillian spoke with sudden resolve. "I loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you. I love each of you so much. And I am certain your grandfather would feel the same." They met her gaze once again. "I couldn't ever imagine hiding the three of you away," she allowed a small smile to slip across her face. "I'm grateful for the lessons your mother and father have taught me. All things considered, I'm very happy about the way it all turned out."

"Really?" Farkle posed the scepticism.

"Well," she found herself speaking over exaggeratedly, like she did when they were younger, "the only thing I find myself unhappy about is that I don't get to see you each and every day."

They each seemed to explore her face with their eyes; looking for any evidence that she might be lying. There was none.

"We love you too." Felicia reached her hand across the table, Lillian took it. Her brothers didn't seem to disagree with the words she spoke for them.

Of course, it wasn't the whole truth. She would rather have had her daughter choose humanity when the option was posed to her that one eventful night. It would have meant getting to keep her forever, with the grandchildren close by. Alas, her daughter chose otherwise. There was nothing she could do.

"I can assure you, Felicia looks exactly like her mother did, she always has," she answered the question the photos couldn't answer, patting her granddaughter's hand.

"So we just need to look at old photos of Fel, and that's basically mom's missing photos too," Farkle accepted the lighter conversation topic.

Lillian smiled at him. "Precisely, just imagine she's here at the castle instead."

"And also wearing nicer clothes," Fergus laughed, looking to his sister, who shook her head rolling her eyes.

Well, there was something Lillian could - and did - do. She embraced and accepted every little thing the old habitual parts of her brain tried to reject, like their clothing choices, the way they slouched when they sat, how they didn't take on their royal training despite any consequences they had to endure when they were in public. There were so many little things she was always taught to never be accepting of - she wasn't with Fiona - it was challenging at times to work against it. However, over the years it surprised her with how freeing it felt to not care about any of it. It was a happy feeling.

"Thank you for accepting the past and my failures, my darlings. It means more than you know." She realised she had missed off the crucial part. Maybe they didn't understand, much like she struggled to understand a lot, but they were willing to move past it. And that meant the world to her. Just as they did.

. . .

When I said I was jumping around the timeline, I meant it ;)

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