"I told you, ogres don't live happily ever after!"
Fairy Godmother pointed her wand, summoning all of her strength―to wish death on the happy, and now attractive, newlyweds. A brilliant glowing beam shot out. It was supposed to strike and obliterate both of them, although when Shrek pushed his wife out of harm's way, she didn't really care. The ogre would still die, and her son could still have Fiona. At least, that was her initial desire as the princess landed on the stones, on her own wrist. Ignoring it, she reached out, crying her husband's name. Her grief would be short-lived. She would marry Prince Charming...and she would be happy. Eventually.
But, in one last act of humanity, the meddlesome king lunged into the path of magic. It bounced off his armor―deflecting onto Fairy Godmother instead. She screamed as the blinding purple light raced towards her, so quickly that her life couldn't even flash before her eyes. She was struck, knocked backward as a weird tingling spread throughout her body. She looked down to make sure she was still in one piece, then tossed a triumphant glance at the king. She would enjoy punishing him for that...after she destroyed his family. "Hah!" she declared, pointing her wand yet again. But then something quite strange happened, something that should have been impossible. The king, his daughter and son-in-law, her view of the entire courtyard, was obstructed by bubbles. Extremely large bubbles.
Everybody glanced down, watching the bubbles land and pop; then went about their lives, happily reuniting and continuing the party. Fairy Godmother hovered, popping the filmy globes if they came near, threatening to carry her away. Why were they all so...big? She looked down, realizing everything was big. Well, Shrek had been big before; now he was a giant. It seemed suddenly that she could land on his ear!
Loud explosions startled her, and she spun in the air, taking in the fireworks. The extremely large fireworks. Frightened, she zipped down to her magic wand, sobbing when she realized it was log-sized. She tried in vain to lift it; she couldn't even make it budge. Trying to at least be glad she wasn't dead, she shuffled to the star and sank down on the stone, exhausted by her efforts. "Oh, Howard, what's happened here?" she muttered, speaking her long-late husband's name. Then, in the flashing light by the fireworks, a particularly large shadow fell upon her, and she lunged with a shriek, jumping down into the microscopic space between stones. Microscopic... She was little! Impossibly little!
"Would you like the honor?"
Fairy Godmother slowly peeked out of her hiding space, watching Shrek take the wand from his large green wife. "It would be my pleasure," he grumbled, and snapped the magic wand. Not like a log, but like a twig. He snapped it with two fingers like a twig, much like he would snap her if he got the chance. Then he threw the broken wand aside―Fairy Godmother ducked to avoid being obliterated. "There. I promise you, we'll never have to deal with magic again," Shrek said coyly. He chuckled as Fairy Godmother knelt between the stones, listening to them kiss.
She couldn't give him the chance. She couldn't remain so little that she could sit on his ear. She had to get to the Factory right away! She had to set it all right again. She had to restore her son's future, and most importantly she had to restore her size. Otherwise what chance did he have of breaking their marriage apart? None. He needed Mummy's help; he needed her magic touch. Perhaps when it was all said and done she would teach him how to wield magic and take her place running the Factory. The first step in preserving a royal human legacy was preserving her work. She couldn't do that if nobody was able to see her.
Fairy Godmother waited until the courtyard had gone quiet, and nobody had walked over her hiding place with their giant feet since; lifting up into the air, she turned in the direction of the Factory and saw her son walking slowly through the courtyard, holding her glasses and staring reverently upon them like they were priceless jewels. "Now don't you worry," she said, overcome with stress herself. "Mummy's going to fix everything."
But she was so unbelievably little that he didn't hear her voice at all. "I'm not dead," she called out. "Charming!"
But he wandered away, oblivious to her survival...as were they all. She frowned at his rather fine backside and spoke now to herself. "I'm going to fix everything. And they will pay so dearly, none in their family shall be able to afford this castle."
She flew after her son, realizing that she was much slower in this new body. Originally, she could have traveled about the same speed of a horse; now, if she flew as quickly as she was able, she might be able to travel the same speed as a domestic cat... But she wasn't positive. Perhaps if the cat were chubby.
Walking through the castle, Charming's eyes went to the ogres, who stood together watching him leave. For a moment he halted, opening his mouth like he wanted to threaten them as if he knew his mother was watching and wanted to make her proud. But then he turned and kept walking, with slow steps and slumping shoulders. Landing on a hanging chandelier, Fairy Godmother peered down into the wide hallway, watching the ogres turn their victorious smiles to one another.
"Won't you join us in the dining room?" Queen Lillian's voice said. Fairy Godmother repositioned herself to watch as she approached―holding the frog king in her hands, like she would be perfectly content to dine without washing first. "We still have quite a feast."
They wandered down the hall together, and Fairy Godmother detached from the chandelier, following her son and looking grouchily over her shoulder at their retreating backsides. "Yeah, you're much more appropriate to rule, King Kermit," she grumped, and landed as gently as possible on her son's head. Lying down, she looked at the murals on the ceiling as he walked under them; after quite a journey the night sky opened up above her, and a breeze tousled his hair. Slowly, he journeyed across the large courtyard; she finally heard the spurting fountain and began to see the battlements at the front wall.
"Last guest," a guard shouted, and Fairy Godmother listened to the drawbridge close.
Prince Charming turned, and Fairy Godmother sat up in his hair, listening to him mutter, "I'll be the owner soon enough."
"That's my boy."
Still incapable of hearing her tiny voice, he turned and kept walking away. She was musing it was probably better he couldn't hear her, otherwise she'd have to shout until they found a way to restore her size, when suddenly Charming made an unexpected turn. Wherever he was going, he wasn't headed to the Factory. Her agenda unshakable, she rose off his head and hovered in midair, watching him take a stroll. "Have you lost your head, boy?" she muttered. "Well, I don't know where you're going, but I suppose I'll see you at the Factory soon enough. Mummy's got things to do."
She changed course, heading in the correct direction. He was likely just heading home, anyway. There were no potions there; no materials with which she could fashion a second wand. This one, she decided, would be unbreakable―and perhaps it should be capable of defending itself, growing hot if wielded in the wrong hands. Obviously only she and Charming would be able to touch it; not anyone else. They didn't need to anyway. She and her son were, and forever would be, the most important people. Nobody was above them. Not the queen, not the king, no one. They could not wield magic, and change reality itself; no amount of gold and jewels would change that. But she needed the kingdom to truly establish her authority. There was power in wealth, and there was power in magic. Few people appreciated both, but she would change that. She would change it all...
Flying a little too low, Fairy Godmother didn't realize she had blocked out her surroundings until she was nearly inhaled by a horse. Its whinny startled her and she shot upwards, looking down at the flaring nostril she had almost been vacuumed into, and was breathing a sigh of relief when―she was intercepted by the gap of its traveling carriage. Suddenly the airflow stopped and she couldn't see. She lingered in panic until the back wall of the carriage knocked into her, and thinking she was captured, believing she was helpless, she sank to the seats―facing the wall of blackness she had smacked into, she didn't realize that there actually was an escape. She believed she was helpless. So she sank onto her hands and knees, feeling the strange, cushiony terrain beneath her. Grass and dirt, she deduced, put inside the cage she would live in forever.
Sitting on the seat of the carriage, she listened to the hoofbeats of the horse ridden by her captor, taking her either to a forever home or a place of torture. Thinking surrender was all she could do, she closed her eyes and waited for the worst...
The morning light had no secrets. When she awoke, and rolled over, there was no overlooking the open gap leading out to freedom. She looked around the carriage, suddenly realizing where she was―where she had been the whole time. She flew to the gap and squeezed out. The horses had been unbreeched and were grazing in a nearby paddock; there was a cabin nearby. She perched atop a tree branch, gazing out at a fairytale meadow.
Where was she? She didn't recognize any of this. It was like another land. Was this Even Further Away? She had never been there―it was just too far. She had once tried getting there by alternating between walking and flying, but all she did was tire out her feet, her legs, and her wings. She had tried to magically place herself there, but had only succeeded in draining her power of its magical qualities. She'd been unable to cast spells for two days; that was rough. She hadn't tried again; there were local princesses for whom she didn't need to risk life and limb.
No. No, this couldn't be Even Further Away. If her magic couldn't get her there, no way could a pair of simple horses.
Well, she couldn't very well fly into the cabin and scream at a human, nor could she lift a quill. Without magic to grant a small animal the gift of speech, she didn't know what she could do...and, because of a silly misunderstanding, she didn't know the way home. Or more importantly, she didn't know the way to work.
Sighing, she flew higher and higher into the air. Perhaps the more she saw, the more she would know. Higher, and higher still―going unbearably slow, about the speed of a house cat... As she hovered in the air, high above the land, she became increasingly and uncomfortably aware of her mistake... Her wings were tired, and the ground was far, far away.
Then she spotted it―a tall, barely discernible tower with a glowing orange circle. The clock in Harold's courtyard! Relieved, she landed before she could fall, knock herself out, and wake up having to do that all over again because she lost track. That would not be a misunderstanding; that would be pathetic. Plopping to her feet, she stared at the swaying grass blades, stretching high above her head. "I'll die before I get there," she muttered, and began to walk. "I ought to take everything from that useless king."
Pushing her way through the meadow, she eventually stumbled upon a trail of buttons. She shook her head and muttered to herself yet again, "Careless humans."
Picking up the sweeping hem of her glittery red dress, she walked alongside the buttons, feeling a mounting hatred for the king. It was his fault she was this little. It was his fault that her son was mourning her. Oh, no, he was going to have a funeral for her, wasn't he?!
Fairy Godmother did something then she almost never did―she ran.
It wasn't just annoying being this small; it was also strange. As the day grew older, Fairy Godmother had to stop and find food, and made the startling discovery that her stomach was now so small, she couldn't even finish a single cherry. Eating half was pushing it. Unfortunately she didn't think her little stomach and her teeny, tiny muscles would count it as being a tiny little cherry; she thought eating half of one was now the equivalent of a pie. It sure felt like it. But she knew she would be hungry again, and did not know when she would encounter another cherry tree; for all she knew that was the only one in this...land. So she rolled the cherry along like the base of a snowman as she walked. A crimson snowman. Well, at least it matched her dress.
She walked, ate, and sat, until the cherry was eaten. Finally, thinking she may never be hungry again, she flew, early into the third day of hard travel. She hadn't slept, so her mind may have been playing tricks on her―and she was not wearing her glasses, so it may have been her vision―but that bloody tower didn't look any closer. Still she flew hard, wiping tears away as she went...slowly. And then, when she was thinking it couldn't get any worse, her eyes were drawn to a bright flash in the gray sky.
She had never been scared of storms before, but getting struck by electricity had changed that. She beat her wings furiously, wondering sincerely if she was caught in a web. Like a madman, she flailed her arms, but felt nothing. She wasn't trapped, and that was good. But she was laggard, and that was ghastly. She would certainly grow old and die before she could fix things!
When her wings grew weary, she landed again and ran...and ran...until she thought she might be bleeding into her red slippers. Her breathing was labored and she ached like she had never ached before. She put her hands on her knees, blinking at the sudden bright spots that appeared and danced in her admittedly blurred vision.
Pathetic... Not to mention she was―ugh―sweating!
Then the whole world began to sway, and she passed out.
When she regained consciousness, Fairy Godmother believed she was alone. All she could hear was a persistent little bell. Remembering that she was going to the castle, she sat up and jumped out of what she hoped was her own couch, or perhaps a gurney in the doctor's office inside of King Harold's castle. Instead, she found herself surrounded by people. Quickly, she realized they were not human people. They were fairies! And she couldn't hear a word even though their lips were moving. She was deaf, she was... But, no, the bell. She could hear that, why couldn't she hear them? What was happening to her?!
A glowing, golden fairy, a radiant beauty with a crown, stepped forward and spoke muted words to Fairy Godmother. Jingle, jingle. Silence, jingle. Silence, jingle, jingle, jingle.
Fairy Godmother waited for the fairy, with wings that looked like they were made of sunlight, to stop speaking; then said, "I can't hear a word you're saying to me."
Then a cute blonde, with a little green dress, stepped forward and pointed at her. Jingle, jingle, jingle. And all four of the fairies stared at her in wonder... Jingle, jingle.