It's a Happily Ever After, After All

I was alone. The words hit me over and over. Was I a terrible King? Were they really all plotting against me? Waiting for my rule to end? No. No. Mother trained me to be the best King. Mum told me I was going to be a great King. I was. An unwitting tear slid down my cheek. I was a great King like Mum said. I got a Princess, I got a castle, I got a crown. It was everything we wanted. It was supposed to be my happily ever after. They were supposed to lose. They were supposed to be tied to a ridiculous little chair. I struggled more, it was my last chance to get out. I ignored the throbbing pain I felt all over, the fog in my head and the weight in my chest. Perhaps I could run, and get away, like I had when they killed my Mummy. I struggled so much the chair toppled sideways. My painful shoulder hit hard against the floor, I whelped. I sobbed loudly against the floor for a moment. I imaged that tiny picture of her, the picture she often signed and gave to people. The one she gave me had a special note. The note that kept me going, don't stop believing. I sniffed, halting my tears. I tried feebly to tug against the ropes once again, nothing would work. But, Mum wouldn't like it if I ran away. She used to tell me to have dignity and purpose, and so I would. I blinked away the tears. Whatever I did in this dire situation had to be bold and majestic, and-

"Ha! What happened to him?" the loud voice approached, my attention was diverted. I desperately tried to see.

"Oh dear, King Charming," the cat's smooth voice grew closer, "You seem to be a little… tied up," he laughed, the donkey laughed louder.

"Tied up and knocked out!" the animal trotted closer, "Good job, Princess."

"This isn't a joke," Fiona's more reasonable voice took over, I suddenly found myself being hoisted upright. I clenched my teeth together, they were grinning, laughing at me. I hated when people mocked me.

"Don't laugh at me," I hissed.

"How does defeat feel Mr Charming?" the cat twiddled his whiskers, "Satisfying? No? Worth the death of our friend?"

Fiona seemed to shrink back, lowering her head. It was still raw. It was still hurting her. That tiny seed of an idea I had planted at the beginning of the night, before my sleeping was interrupted, began to grow in my mind. She would do anything. Anything. I could feel the small indent of the glass on my torso. I had her.

"Man, you should'a known you wouldn't have got away easy with that one!"

"We wouldn't let you forget that."

I ignored them, staring intently at her. She didn't look up. She didn't seem to care for their words either, clearly not the gloating type. They mentioned him again, she flinched in reaction. Lifting her head, she met my eyes, briefly, before turning quickly away.

"Do be quiet," I shifted my gaze to them. They laughed, again.

"Princessa, can you look after him for just a few more moments?" they turned their mocking attention away from me.

"Yeah, me and Puss have a few more butts to kick!"

The cat rolled his eyes as they left, "No, Burro, I have a few more butts to kick, you have a few more hiding places to find."

We were alone again. She stayed put for a short while. We listened to the fire crackle. Now was my chance to get what I wanted, needed.

"Fiona-"

"I don't want to speak to you," she was cold. She hurriedly made for the door.

Panic flashed over me, "Wait. Fiona, wait."

She did.

That idea that seemed ridiculous suddenly seemed to be my only hope. I clung to it. "I have what you're looking for," I spoke steadily. She hesitated, holding onto the door, looking at the ground. I needed to pull her in further, "You want him back," I stated slowly, "You can have him, on a couple of conditions of course," I chuckled. She didn't move. "Or I can get rid of it." My eyes scoured the ground, there was a way I could smash it. If I struggled and hit the floor in a certain way, it would be crushed under my weight. It would hurt, but it would work. "It's your choice."

She slowly moved her eyes towards me. I slowed my breathing. Everything was riding on this one choice. My whole plan in her hands. I didn't want to appear desperate. I was in control. I smiled as she met my eyes. "It'd bring Shrek back?"

I took a slow drawn breath, "Yes," I spoke through gritted teeth.

"You'd give it to me?" she stepped into the room again, looking back quickly before softly closing the door behind her.

"On some conditions, yes," I watched as she considered me, taking curious steps toward me.

"You're not going to be spared, you know that?"

I narrowed my eyes at her, "Perhaps." I swallowed hard, frowning. I was actually hoping very much that they would spare me for it. It began more and more apparent to me that I was going to die. I was going to die. The reality washed over me. I couldn't escape, not yet, at least. I couldn't fight without a weapon. I couldn't even move. But I had a bargaining tool. A good bargaining tool. The cat was going to have me killed, he'd do it in the most awful way too. He was an assassin, and also seeking revenge. I had sought assassins myself, I knew well what they were capable of. But with her, I had another option. I didn't have to be tortured, I didn't have to die. I could have a storybook ending.

"What am I doing?" she laughed a little, breaking the silence, "No, there's nothing we're doing for you." She shook her head and turned towards the door again.

"I'll smash it."

She turned back quickly, eyes wide. I jolted the chair to demonstrate my point. I was still in control. I put a smirk on my face. She'd give me what I wanted.

"You have it with you?"

"Yes."

She looked back to the door for a second, before turning back, gaining a new resolve, "What do you want, Charming?" she narrowed her eyes at me.

"Dignity," I scowled at the brief flash of humour crossing her face, "If you don't agree…"

"Fine," she sighed, "What?"

"Let me live," she began to laugh, I shushed her, "I'll step down from my throne, I'll give you the kingdom if you let me live." It was a long shot, it wasn't what I wanted. It wasn't a storybook ending. But being tortured to death was even less favourable. I still had my youth. I was still the most handsome man to grace a woman's gaze. I still had my training. I could easily capture another kingdom. I could. I would. The humiliation of backing away would be worth it. A darker idea captured my interest, unless I pulled a little stint in the same vein as they did, leave and set the entire palace on fire with them all in it. And stroll back to my place of power. Wouldn't that be a wonderful thing? Yes, I had a new plan! It was a good job I was a quick thinker, Mother would always praise my intelligence. My thoughts were brought to a gentle end as the pain of the decision was clear on her face. "Don't flatter me, Fiona, seeing me dead is worth more than seeing your precious ogre alive. I never knew you had such a keen interest."

Anger flashed across her face, "Give it to me." She rested her hands on her hips. I stared at her, she had her confident, controlling demeanour, yet I could see the glint of desperation in her eyes. She needed me. I smiled. Perhaps I wasn't going to die.

"Untie me," I pulled against the ropes.

"No," her answer was sharp.

"Well how do you expect me to give it to you?" I stared at her incredulously, "Untie me!"

"Tell me where it is, and I'll take it," her gaze was hard.

"It's-" I faltered for a moment. Once she took it, that was it. I had lost the magic forever. She would have the tool I needed. Everything could go wrong. But everything could also go my way too. I took a breath, "Remember my conditions?" She nodded her agreement, "It's… It's in my pocket," I held my head high. She'd have to come close, she'd have to touch me. She immediately registered the same thing, making a face in response. "My torso pocket." Her eyes dropped to my clothing, "It's on the inside. I'm a King, Fiona, I have things to hide." I smirked at her reaction. "Come and take it, or untie me."

"Fine," she didn't hesitate walking over to me. My smile grew as she drew closer. "Where?" I puffed my chest out as much as I could, ignoring the jolt of pain from my injured shoulder. It was a wonder, how she could live in a castle for so long and yet still smell so much like an ogre. I almost wanted to hold my breath, I didn't. My discomfort paled in comparison to hers. I chucked as she slowly pulled my tunic away from my neck. I pulled my neck back, raising my eyebrows at her. I tried not to wince as the blood stuck to my clothing pulled at the wound, glancing down I realised how bad of a state my chest was in. Still, for now, I looked like a war hero. I felt good despite my circumstances. With a grimace she reached inside my clothing. Her hands were cold, I shuddered a little as her skin brushed mine. I didn't look down, I stared straight at her face. She glanced between me and the task at hand. I realised with a sudden dash of disappointment, I should have made her remove my tunic completely. I worked hard on my physique, it would have been nice to be appreciated, even on my near deathbed. Her fingers finally found the small vial, she pulled herself away quickly, "Right, good." She stepped back, staring at the tiny potion, "This is it?"

"Yes," I stared intently at her, waiting for her to ask how it works, waiting for thanks. Waiting for her to say anything. She looked towards the door, I lurched forward a little. She couldn't leave. Not when I was so perfectly in control despite being tied to a chair. Not when I was a war hero. She couldn't turn away, not while I was still King. A good King.

"Good," her eyes briefly met mine. She turned.

"My conditions…"

"Mean nothing," she cut my speech off, "This," she held up the vial, "is payment for what you took from me… from my children."

In a moment of horror I watched all of my plans shatter against the floor. The image of the burning castle, the beautiful coastal kingdom, another wide eyed Princess gazing at my face were crushed. I could only gape at her, in utter disbelief. I never took her for a liar. I had lied my fair share when I had been desperate enough, clearly her needs of desperation had been met. Anger flourished within me. "No!" I shouted at her, she almost smiled, though she was uneasy. I hesitated, perhaps she would change her mind. "Fiona…" she walked to the door, "Fiona!" she ignored me, I pulled harder than I had before at the ropes. They didn't budge. Desperation finally won over, I panicked, I hated the feeling of desperation and yet the words came flooding out anyway, "Fiona, wait… You need a sacrifice. You need someone to die."

It was enough to stop her in her tracks. I was breathless. I struggled to control my breathing, my chest painfully heaving under the ropes. They were going to kill me. They were going to do it in front of the whole kingdom. The crowds would cheer. I began to tremble, the reality overwhelming me, "You need someone to sacrifice themselves…" I stopped, I took shaky breaths, for once I struggled to get words out of my mouth, it was an odd sense of anxiety I had never felt before. The fear was washing over me in waves, "I'm going to do it."

"What?" she laughed, looking back at me. She didn't believe me. I didn't sound convincing, I was shaking like a pathetic child. It was situations like these Mum took over the reins for me. What would she say?

"Who else would sacrifice themselves for you?" I began my argument, slowly and surely. I forced myself to stop shaking, my chest protesting painfully. "One of your friends?" I pushed as much force into my voice as I could, I could be convincing, I'd done it before. "Would you be pleased to see them go?" My words seemed to dampen her confidence, it increased mine. She turned sharply towards a noise outside, I had to hurry. The animals wouldn't listen to a word I said, I knew that much. She was softer than them. "You have a sacrifice here, right here, tied to a chair for you."

"Why would you do that for me? For Shrek?" she had dry eyes, she was thinking.

I didn't have a plan. I couldn't tell myself whether I would escape or have to go through with it. My plan, was to search for an opportunity for a plan. I smirked, "I'm going to die," I stated it out loud, I laughed nervously in response. I couldn't help it. "They're going to kill me, the King." She snickered. "I am," I responded defiantly. "A King should die with dignity and honour, don't you agree?" she was silent, considering me. I continued, "I started my reign with such an impact, I want to end on another. I am brave, and victorious. I am King Charming, I want to be remembered as such." It made me feel better. I was good at speeches, so good I almost convinced myself. She didn't move. I sighed, growing more desperate than I would have liked. It didn't go this way in my head, not at all. "Let me have the glory I deserve. I don't want to be tortured to death. I don't want that. I am King, I get what I want."

"Charming-" she began to shake her head.

"I let you out of that tower," I stared so intensely into her eyes, leaning as far forward as I possibly could. "I didn't have to, believe me, I could have left you there to rot. You'd still be there now. But I didn't. I saved you… and your… your children. I let you go back to that awful swamp you called home. I let you have your lives," her eyes fell to the ground, "I did that for you. You need to repay me."

The silence continued. My gaze switched between her and the small vial she held to her chest.

"You can have him back right now," I felt the anger wash over me, I swallowed it down. I couldn't get angry like I wanted to. I needed to persuade her. I hadn't ever convinced her before. She was one of the only people who defied me through until the end, the only woman to say no. I had-

"Okay," her voice was soft and small. I held my breath as she met my gaze. "Okay."

She peered out of the door, checking both ways. Sighing as she closed it quietly, "They're not going to be happy about this."

"You'll be happy," I softened my voice, nodded my reassurance as best I could. I was rescuing her, I noted. Rescuing her from whatever I watched that previous night when I had… When I had asked her to marry me. I realised then how ridiculous that had been. Strange, how now, facing my apparent death I could finally see with clarity. I had been pathetic. I could only hope she wouldn't tell anyone. That this would be how I was remembered by all. Bravely sacrificing myself for the enemy. What a selfless King I was. People would read about me in history books, I would inspire great heroes. I would be dead though, I would never be able to gloat about it. I pouted a little as her gaze was preoccupied.

"If this doesn't work…"

"It will," I insisted. I didn't have a clue. That wizard boy could have done anything, it was too late to ever see him about a fault now, I had dealt with him. I could only hope. Perhaps it would take me and not bring him back. That would be a good turnout, I thought with a dark humour. If only I would be able to see their reaction, I smiled. She gave a small smile back, misinterpreting my thought process. I had her trust. For the first time ever, I held her trust. Good.

"Don't move," she placed the potion on the dressing table, and reached around, untying the rope from my wrists. I felt immediate relief as she pulled it away, before the burning sensation began. As I moved my wrists to my vision they had been burned by the rope, drawing blood, I winced at the pain.

"Hey Charming," the loud voice entered the room once again, "It's your turn now!"

"No," I grabbed at her arm as she passed, she gasped in response.

"Remove your hands from her now!" a sword was suddenly pointed at me. I gulped, releasing my grip. The rest of me was still stuck to the chair, though I had the advantage of my arms, it wasn't much. I leaned back.

"Puss…"

"Don't worry, Princess…" the donkey took a serious tone, "if you can't watch just go see the kids, we'll handle it," the donkey didn't move his glare from me, "You won't miss the main event."

"No, Donkey, I…"

"Your end is beginning, Señor Charming," the cat wandered around the room.

"Listen to her!" I demanded. They were too caught up in the moment to realise her words. They didn't acknowledge mine either. I could feel my plan, or lack of, slipping away. My glory disappearing.

"You will beg for the end," the cat jumped, landing delicately on the dressing table next to me. My eyes grew wide, I could hear Fiona gasp as we watched the tiny vial wobble, "What?" The animal rose to his full height, facing Fiona in confusion. That movement just enough to knock the potion over, landing on the wood with a small clink.

"Puss the potion!" she yelped at him, quickly advancing towards it.

It rolled. His eyes scoured the place he stood. It got closer to the edge. Closer, still. His eyes caught sight of it. It teetered on the lip of the wood. The cat made a swipe for it, it fell.

"No!" I shouted, Fiona's urgent cry matching mine.

It smashed.

"No, you moron!" I shouted at the cat, who looked dumbfoundedly between me and Fiona.

"Puss, no…" she had dropped to her knees, face in her hands, she had lost her ogre all over again. It brought back those memories, I felt the jolt of excitement flush through me once again.

She explained it to them. She wanted the impossible just as much as I did. Though I didn't listen to any of her words, her explanations gave me more time. They weren't as trusting as she was, they looked at me with narrow eyes and suspicious expressions. They were stupid animals, they couldn't understand the complexities in my nature. With their attention elsewhere and the use of my arms a new hope flourished over me. I tugged at the rope that held my torso, trying to be as inconspicuous as I possibly could. Fiona began to choke over her words, it was pathetic how mourning could make you so weak to tears. It provided a good distraction for the animals as they focused on her. I pulled as hard as I could against the rope. The chair fell again. I landed hard on the ground, wincing in pain. I bit my lip, I couldn't drag my way out, I tried to reach behind my back to untie the rope but I couldn't reach properly. She had done too good of a job. I scowled considering my situation, this wasn't dignified in any way. This was not how a King should be treated. My Mother would have been outraged. I began to shift myself in order to pick myself up, I wasn't sure how I could return to a kingly position, but I'd try. I glared at them, they ignored me, not one even bothered to glance my way.

I was about to push myself up when I realised the smashed potion was directly in my line of vision. There were small shards of glass sitting in the perfect pool of liquid. But the bottom of the vial had been thicker. It was still whole, it still contained a small amount of the potion. I could get to it. I glanced at my captors, they had barely acknowledged me. I dragged myself over to it, slowly, carefully, discreetly. My arm ached painfully in protest, sending jolting pain through my body. My torso felt like it was being ripped apart by the wound on my chest. As I finished my small journey, my shoulder gave way, I fell again. My cheek hitting the spilt liquid. They looked at me, I was suddenly of interest again. Good. The glass scratched at my face, it brought tears to my eyes. With my strong arm, I carefully picked up the tiny remains. My hand was dangerously shaking, I tried my best to steady it, grunting with the effort. Their eyes were on me. I had their attention. I spoke the story over in my head, just the way I had rehearsed my fairytale over and over. It sounded good. It sounded majestic. The animals began to react to my movement, the sword was pointed in my face. I didn't care for their threatening words, their insults and jeers.

I caught Fiona's desperate gaze, "My conditions."

She scrambled forwards as I tipped the potion back into my mouth. Her wide fingers frantically found the small leaf of paper with the small instructions. It tasted bitter, I almost recoiled and spat it out. Never had I tasted such a vile thing in my life. Whatever horrendous medicine Mother had tried to give to me had to be substituted with magic instead. I swallowed what lay on my tongue, only hoping it would be enough to end me. I didn't care for the other half of the magic. She began to say his name, repeating it over and over, desperate. The donkey blabbered over her speech, I could only hope he'd ruin it. Just as I began to think it wasn't working my head grew foggy, I clamped my eyes shut as my vision began to blur. I heard the cat sheath his sword.

"Remember this," I hissed at them, "Remember what I've done for you traitors." She didn't pause her speech, instead she began pleading between the times she said it. "Rememb-" I gasped suddenly as a pain in my chest began to grow. My throat tightening in response. And then there were armoured footsteps climbing stairs. She shrieked a little in shock at the loud voices. The animals were suddenly up and gone. Someone had come for me… And yet it was too late. I tried to yell, but what left my lips was more of a croak. I struggled for breath, changing my mind immediately, clawing at the shiny floor. I wanted to scream and protest. I wanted to be a King. That's all I ever wanted. What was I doing? Every attempt was futile. It was too late, much too late. The morons should have come earlier, I wouldn't have acted so stupidly.

My throat closed up more, impossibly tight, a ringing began in my ears. I barely managed to open my eyes, my body limp against the ground. She jumped back, I blinked a few times. A mist began to shroud me, or was it me? No. It was next to me. A form was beginning to emerge. I tried to growl in anger, the magic was working, I only managed to choke. Yes. It was him. I could just hear Fiona's soft gasp, she said something. I didn't care what. I let my eyes close as they so desperately wanted to. She didn't care about me anymore, my good deed probably wasn't remotely present in her mind. I realised with strange jolt of humour, Shrek would have to be King. How would he escape it now? If I wasn't struggling so much I would have laughed. The kingdom would be begging for me back. At least my rule would be remembered. I would be remembered. People would read books about me, paint and sculpt me. My portrait would hang in the halls of the castle forevermore. I was the face of an era.

It wasn't long, and yet it was still a lifetime before I couldn't hear a thing. The world turned oddly peaceful. I was left to my own thoughts for a matter of seconds, as I could only assume that's all I had left. I wondered how many people had lost their life because the story decided they were the loser, or the villain. Everyone cheering as they met their awful demise. No one caring about their hopes and dreams that went unachieved and unsupported. It wasn't fair. I had won. I had won so well. And yet no one cheered for me when I did. It wasn't fair! Surely people would cheer once the dragon had fried me from my balcony. Oh yes, I know they would. Their King! I had done so much. I was a great King, just as Mum always said I would be. I had pushed the kingdoms successes. They were ungrateful. I wondered what people would think, I guessed it would be a divide. Half considering it a happy ending, the ogres finally defeated their foe and could be a happy family, living their disgusting happily ever after. It was a waste. The other half would see the unhappy ending, the King being hit by tragedy so much he'd give up everything he had to sacrifice himself for his enemy, or perhaps his destined lover. It depended on which way they looked at it. Which side they were on. Whether they saw me as the hero or the villain of the story. It didn't matter either way, I knew I was the hero. Happy endings, sad endings, they're all endings just the same. It appeared this was mine. I silently wished the kingdom luck and exhaled for the last time, the words of my legacy repeating over in my head for the last time.

The brave King Charming, when met and captured by his foes, did not strike back as he could have done. He did not give up, facing the inhumane torture that had been threatened to him. Instead, the glorious King sympathised with their cause. He selflessly offered his own life for that of his grave enemy, to capture the interest and impossible goodwill of the ogress, for her to give him mercy for his kingdom. Even after all hope seemed lost and death was upon him, abandoned by all of those he called loyal, he found the courage to continue his charity. The death of the King was not to be decided by another, his death would be chosen by he himself.

. . .

The end!

Sorry for the wait on this one. I tried out several different versions of it, but liked this best.

I have uploaded an add on to this story called The Second Stay, about Fiona's time in the tower after Charming sent her there. So if you haven't read it feel free to do so. I'm quite happy with how that turned out and I feel it gives a little more insight to Fiona's story.

As we're here at the end, I want to thank everyone who has taken the time to read the whole thing, also to those who have added it to their favourites and alerts, and to those who have reviewed previous chapters too! Thank you all!

I'd really love to hear what you thought so please leave a review or feel free to message me.

I hope you enjoyed!

Thank you once again!