Lillian awoke to a noise. It startled her. She couldn't be absolutely sure if it had been a dream, but it felt real and present. Wide eyed, she sat up and looked into the darkness of her bedroom.

"Mommy?"

Lillian's eyes caught sight of something hovering at the end of the bed. She gasped, only just managing to hold back a shriek at the shape of the monster. It only took a second before she realised what or who it was. The small monster sniffed, rubbing her eyes.

"Fiona?" Lillian didn't try to be quiet. She threw the covers off of herself and was about to stand, but her daughter barreled into her, burying her head into her mother's chest. The child breathed shaky breaths, her cheeks wetting Lillian's nightgown.

"Fiona?" she asked again, finding herself dumbfounded. "How did you get here?" The alarm finally rang through her as her brain caught up with the situation. Her daughter would have needed to escape her guarded room and climb a flight of stairs to reach them, all without being noticed.

She hesitantly wrapped one arm around her daughter, and reached back to shake her husband awake with the other.

Lillian adjusted her seat on the bed, allowing Fiona to climb upon her and sit in her lap. Her child was far heavier in the nighttime, not that it would stop the mother from being a source of comfort.

"Hm?" Harold hummed sleepily, eyes not yet adjusted to the darkness.

"Harold, light a candle," she instructed without sparing him a glance. She tried to lean back just a little to try and peel her daughter's weeping face from her chest. "Darling… Did anyone see you come here?"

"I-I had a nightmare!" Fiona wailed in response, only clinging to her mother even harder.

"Fiona?" Harold was suddenly very awake.

A match was struck, and several candles were lit on one side of the bed. Lillian glanced back at him, meeting his wide but bleary gaze. Sleep had been scarce for them both. It seemed their turbulent nights were not about to end anytime soon.

"Fiona, dear, what are you doing here?" Harold sat up properly on his side of the bed.

"It was a witch," she cried.

"In your room?" His alarm dialled up, even causing Lillian's own heart to race.

"No. No, in my- my dream," she sobbed.

Lillian held the child against her, leaning her cheek on Fiona's head. She could tell her daughter had been sweating over the night, but the smell wasn't bad enough to push her away. She wasn't sure what ever would be. It was perfectly understandable that nightmares were plaguing the princess' slumber, for she recently had awoken to a very real witch in her bedroom. Not that anyone had been able to capture or even glimpse at the culprit. They couldn't even be sure if the nightmares were a symptom of the very curse placed upon her. She seemed relatively normal before she went to sleep, but how could anyone know that an ogre's dreams weren't endlessly filled with torment - they were monsters after all.

Harold stood, leaving them together on the bed. He creeped over to the door, quietly opening it and peering out into the hallway. He promptly closed it again.

"It appears she wasn't followed," he observed, puzzled. "I can't tell whether I should be happy or be extremely concerned about the guard on duty."

"Perhaps both," Lillian muttered, sighing her relief. Not that she could take any relief from the situation. In a softer tone, she tried a different angle. "Darling, it's dangerous for you to leave your room at night because someone might not recognise you." She rocked the child back and forth.

"You've read the stories about ogres, remember those?" Harold asked her seriously. He stood at the end of the bed, watching them.

Fiona peeked out from where she had buried her face in her mother's shoulder. "They're monsters," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

"Yes, we wouldn't want anyone mistaking you for a monster," Lillian confirmed.

"Remember what they do to the monsters in those stories, Fiona." Harold drove his point home. Hinting at the fears they both held.

Fiona's eyes widened, her lip trembled for just a moment before the terror set in. She wailed into her mother once again.

"Harold," Lillian hissed at him. Fears she wasn't quite sure should be instilled in a child so young.

"She should know the dangers, Lillian," Harold spoke in a hushed voice.

Throwing another glare at her husband for good measure, Lillian shushed her gently. "It's okay, darling, that's why you're going to be a brave girl and stay in your room."

Fiona mumbled her protests to the idea between sobs, not even able to communicate in words. Lillian held onto her tighter, daring to kiss the top of her head. She listened to Harold shuffling back to his side of bed and shifting his pillows. She felt him sit against them, not quite getting back into bed.

"We have to do something, Harold." She mumbled. The queen closed her eyes, continuing to rock back and forth.

"I'm not sure exactly what else to do," he responded shortly.

Their nerves were frayed. They had recently been much more argumentative with each other, especially in the middle of the night. Typically they were strong as family unit, Harold was her rock as she was his. This had somehow come between them and she wasn't entirely sure why. Harold had taken to seeking his own company, disappearing off to find answers himself, rather than letting her in. She was left to do her own research, question the doctors and magic users that had already failed, and wait. It had been tortuous for the queen, especially given how much it was hurting her child.

The pair had already increased security on their daughter's room; someone was stationed outside of her door at all times. The head of the guards had been trusted with their problem and he'd given urgent training to all of his team on princess security. Of course this covered many situations from old ladies posing as friends, to mice being caught slipping into her room, just to remain unsuspicious. The most important scenario being a small Fiona-like creature emerging from the bedroom - they were trained to capture and not slaughter, and show it respect. The guards had, however, been told to inform her parents of such a situation immediately, and no one had showed up to their door yet. Lillian wondered if the person stationed there even knew they'd been duped by a six year old ogre.

Fiona's cries had quietened to just an occasional sob in between congested breathing. Lillian relaxed into the peace, her rocking slowed. She lifted her head away from her daughter, in an attempt to inhale air that didn't smell quite like something that dwelled in caves.

Harold sighed deeply. "How are we going to get her back into her bedroom?" he asked.

Lillian's face dropped at his words. Her daughter ripped herself away from Lillian's chest and looked at her wide eyed. She frantically shook her head, working herself up all over again.

"No, I don't want to go back." Her face scrunched up. "Please don't make me go back, daddy."

"It's okay," Lillian interrupted any answer her husband was about to give. "You can sleep here tonight, dear." She wiped Fiona's loose hair from her face. The child only moved her worried gaze to her father.

"Lillian, I-"

"She can sleep here tonight," she spoke definitively. "How else would she get back to her room?" she spoke directly to her husband, confirming the fears he already voiced. It would be quite the task to manage and she wasn't feeling up to it at that hour.

"Only tonight," Harold was quick to give his addition to her promise.

"Of course," Lillian agreed. "Just this once," she spoke to her daughter, "because you're going to be so brave tomorrow night."

Fiona nodded at her mother, climbing off of her lap onto the bed. Lillian turned to watch her husband watching their daughter. His brow was creased, sorrow deep set in his eyes. His gaze shifted to meet hers. They watched each other for a moment, hollow eyed, silently communicating their exhaustion and sadness. Lillian broke their gaze as Fiona situated herself in the middle of their bed. She too laid down, pulling the blanket over herself and the child. Fiona had slept in their bed before, many times as a baby, lesser so as a small child. She hadn't in at least two years. Lillian found herself even missing it and longing for that time again, not like this, though.

Harold adjusted his own pillows, he put space between himself and their daughter. Lillian's face fell, she tried to make sure it wasn't noticeable to her daughter. She blinked away any emotion that had briefly swept her body.

Fiona, however, appeared happy to have gotten exactly the treat she wanted. She smiled up at her mother from the edge of the pillow they shared. She turned to look over her shoulder.

"You can blow out the candles now, daddy," she stated.

"Of course," he responded wearily, a hint of humour in his voice as he followed his small child's instruction. It didn't quite reach a chuckle.

The room was plunged into darkness.

"Goodnight, Fiona." Harold spoke, his back to them both as he settled himself beneath the same blanket.

"Goodnight, daddy. And mommy." Fiona wriggled a little closer to her. "Sleeping feels funny, mommy," she whispered to her mother. It wasn't the first time she had expressed the difference in sensation. "My ear has to bend, like this." Fiona demonstrated, lifting her head and laying back down onto the pillow. Her elongated ear folded underneath her, Lillian could barely see in the dark.

It seemed like it was Lillian's turn to cry, though she didn't. She felt the emotion welling within her yet again. It was odd how horrifying the whole ordeal had been, and yet it was small things like her beautiful daughter adjusting to her new monstrous proportions that were the most heartbreaking. She so desperately didn't want her child to grow used to it and become accustomed to life in a body that wasn't hers. The more magical failures they had, the more time she was spending in such a life. Lillian didn't want to admit it, but they were growing more and more desperate. Surely something was going to work, she just hoped it would be the next answer her husband sought out.

She placed a hand on Fiona's cheek. "This nightmare will all be over soon, my darling. Go to sleep."

. . .

No weird, meta new year story this time. It's been a while since we wound the clock back to Fiona's childhood, so this is the next stop.

Welcome to all the new readers. There seems to be more people around recently. Hope you're having fun reading :)