Chapter 9: The Midnight Hour "How rude!" Goldilocks said. "Huh?" the witch looked over in surprise at the unexpected sound, nearly making a mistake as she finished the last icing suture on the Gingerbread Man's leg. Goldilocks was standing a few feet away just inside the door of the cottage. Her arms were crossed and on her face was a look of rebuke. "Oh," the witch said, pulling her surgical mask down and removing her latex gloves, "it's you. I thought you'd be gone by now with the others." "They're still trying to get the shoe loaded," the girl responded. "Really?" the witch said, then glanced out of the window. A few yards away in the clearing where the fairy tale creatures had been camped a few soldiers were still trying to get the little old lady's double-wide shoe mounted onto a 30-foot long roller skate, to which a team of horses was hitched. The lady herself was trying to direct their efforts while several of her children ran about at play, not helping at all. The group seemed to represent the last vestiges of the horde of refugees that had flooded the yard earlier -- all the others had quickly and joyously left shortly after the witch had returned from her quest in Duloc and read Fiona's decree. But as the witch looked around the clearing with a bit more scrutiny, she could see that they had left debris in several places to mark their presence. "Blasted litter-bugs," the witch cursed, "they got no respect for nature!" "And they'd still be there if it wasn't for Queen Fiona!" Goldilocks chimed in. The witch signed. "Look, Blondie," she said, "you don't get to be two centuries old like me by sticking your neck out for NOBODY." "TWO CENTURIES?!" Goldilocks gasped. The witch tossed her head back and sneered. "Hey! When you get to be two centuries old, look this good YOU won't!" Goldilocks shook her head, forcing herself back to the subject at hand. "But you know that's not the POINT!" she pleaded. "Queen Fiona did you such a big favor, and when she needs you to help her, you turn your back on her! That's not witches with HONOR would do! They'd try to rescue her!" "Oh, yeah! Right before they get burned at the stake!" the witch said indignantly. "Okay, you little eaves-dropper. I told your green-skinned heroine that if there was anything I could do to repay her, to let me know. Then she DID -- she asked me to revive Shaggy over there" -- she gestured toward the Momma Bear rug draped over an old, padded chair -- "now, do you know how much TROUBLE it'll be to cast such a spell? I'll gathering and brewing and chanting for HOURS! No. I offered, and she took me up on it. I've FULFILLED my debt." "So, Fiona helps the bear, and now she dies 'cause of it?" "Sorry, kid. Life sucks like an Electrolux. Get used to it. I fulfilled my obligation, and I don't do charity work." Goldilocks gestured to where the Gingerbread Man was sitting on the baking sheet, feeling his reattached leg. "You helped HIM," she pointed out. The witch shrugged. "When it comes to baked goods, you might say I've got a soft spot in my heart, as well as my pantry," she said. Then, smiling mischievously, she reached down, picked up the Gingerbread Man, and held him out toward Goldilocks. "However, if you'd care for a bite ..." The Gingerbread Man's scream was matched by Goldilocks's look of horror. "Oh, come on!" the witch chuckled, "I was just kidding!" Neither the child nor the cookie seemed amused. The witch's chuckle faded to a sign as laid him back down on the sheet. "He wasn't that hard a project, and there was no personal danger involved. This Queen Fiona is ... different." "That's right," Goldilocks said, "SHE isn't afraid to stick her neck out to help people!" "You're right, there!" the witch conceded, "Unfortunately, it sounds like she'll probably be sticking her neck out for the last time pretty soon -- so's to make a better target for the executioner's blade! I'm sorry, kid, but I've done all I can. I'm sorry I couldn't do better but I've got my OWN problems." "Oh, you're a real hero!" Goldilocks said sarcastically. Too upset to notice the way the witch's frown deepened or eyes narrowed at the rebuke, the girl continued, "Most people said that ogres are ugly. But I think they're pretty. 'Specially inside, Queen Fiona is so pretty. But witches -- people say they're ugly, too. And lots are, on the outside. But if they're all like you, they're ugly through and through!" A growl emanated from deep within the witch's throat and her upper lip curled pack, revealing uneven, yellow-stained teeth. "Funny," she snarled, "you were the last to arrive here -- in fact, you weren't even HERE until I got back from the castle with the decree freeing you squatters -- and you've already worn out your welcome. Are you always such a troublesome houseguest?" Goldilocks reflexively glanced toward Momma Bear, blushed, and looked away. "Ah!" the witch said, "So I'm not the first to complain! Well, I suggest you leave my house before I make sure I'm the LAST. Capisce?" "You sound pretty brave," Goldilocks responded, choking back the first tears, "when picking on LITTLE GIRLS." "GO!!!" the witch roared, losing all patience. Goldilocks's eyes grew wide with fright, then she started crying, turned, and ran out of the cabin, slamming the door shut behind her. As she ran, though, she noted that the witch's broom was propped up on the wall just beside the door. After the door slammed, the witch mumbled several oaths under her breath as she started cleaning up the paraphernalia sitting about the kitchen. The Gingerbread Man, who had been silently watching the exchange, started testing his newly attached leg again for movement and feeling. Neither noticed when the door silently re-opened a crack and a little girl's hand snaked in, grabbed the broom, and whisked it away. * * * Milquest stared down from the balcony of the Council Chamber as Maximus led the ogres and Donkey around the corner of the castle. The trio was surrounded by crossbow-wielding soldiers, each with their weapon cocked and trained on the prisoners. Milquest was not fond of heights, but that was not what was making him sick to his stomach right now. "Good Lord, what have we done?" he moaned. "What we HAD to do," a voice came from behind. Milquest spun around to see Beaglely standing there, looking stoic as usual. Milquest looked past Beaglely into the room beyond to make sure there was nobody there. Gledius and the remaining soldiers had rushed out when they heard the ruckus from up the hallway during the ogres' escape attempt. "Did we, Clarence?" Milquest asked. "Did we, really?" Milquest turned and looked back down as Fiona, Shrek and Donkey were led through the prison's outer doors. "The ogre was right," the mayor said. "My metal was tested, and proved about as sturdy as tin foil." "You had no choice," Beaglely consoled him. "Battles can be won or lost; what is important is to keep your eye toward the ultimate purpose -- winning the WAR. To pursue and commit to battles where there is no chance of winning can be foolhardy. It is important to know when to use discretion -- to know when to commit your resources and take a stand and when to retreat to fight another day. One MUST keep one's overall strategy in mind." "You make it sound like a chess game," Milquest said, then gestured toward the prison. "Unfortunately, we've just sacrificed our queen." "Our queen's not sacrificed yet. For now, she's just being kept in check, if you'll pardon the gender confusion." Milquest thought about what Beaglely said for a moment, then uttered a sad, mirthless chuckle. "Are you sure about all that, Clarence?" the mayor asked. Beaglely frowned. "I don't understand. Sure about all what, exactly?" "That you haven't unconsciously developed this 'strategy' talk as a way of rationalizing your OWN cowardice?" "Cowardice?" Beaglely echoed, raising an eyebrow but keeping his voice steady. "No. My actions are consistent with our goal of establishing a democratic Duloc as well as my duties as keeper of Dulocian law." "Ah, a conservative, orderly revolutionary!" Milquest said, almost mockingly. "And what, pray tell, will happen if you have to decide between those virtues? Which will you choose?" Beaglely looked directly at Milquest and without hesitating, replied, "If it should ever come to that, then my choice is clear. Without law and order, such a radical attempt to launch a people's democracy might too easily degenerate into the anarchy and mob rule we talked about earlier. If we cannot establish change peacefully and orderly, then we should not try at all." Milquest shook his head morosely, staring down at the now closed prison doors. "We should have just let them go when the ogre wanted to, Clarence." Beaglely opened his mouth to respond when Gledius pushed the Council Chamber doors open and confidently strode in. It took him a moment to spot the two over on the balcony, but when he did an oily smile spread across his face. "Well, gentlemen!" he said buoyantly, "We finally have the beauty-turned-beast and her cohorts safely locked away. However, without a functioning monarch or regent, that leaves Duloc in a very precarious situation. For the security of the province, I believe there is no choice but for me to declare myself military governor until we might better reconcile matters. Mr. Beaglely, do you see any problems with my taking such measures?" Milquest thought he heard a not-too-subtle challenge in Gledius's voice as he spoke the question. But if he was hoping to goad Beaglely into some telling reaction, he did not succeed. Instead, the city manager calmly replied, "Considering the circumstances, and given your security duties, then yes, such a declaration would be within the dictates of Dulocian law ... Sir." The city manager then dutifully bowed. Gledius's smile seemed to grow impossibly broader, and Milquest inwardly winced. "We should have just let them go," echoed through his mind. * * * Fiona again found herself marching beside Shrek, under guard. Now, though, there were two differences. First, this time the ogres (and now the trailing donkey) were being kept under the VERY watchful eyes of soldiers, on all sides, and all of them now wielding cocked crossbows with hair triggers trained on their prisoners. The other difference: Fiona was angry. And this time she stayed angry. They had escaped, blast it! They had faced the odds and fulfilled (after a fashion) her dream rescue. They were supposed to be living happily-ever-after now, not marching toward oblivion! This wasn't fair! The self-blame and loathing she had felt for herself earlier were still there, but she fought now to keep it suppressed under a layer of bubbling fury. She nurtured the rage, only restraining it enough to keep its physical expression from getting them all killed. However, if another opportunity for escape presented itself, she wanted to make sure she was more of an aide to Shrek, and not some oversized, wimpish rag doll whose only use to him was as an inert battering ram. She spared a glance in Shrek's direction, and saw him glancing about with the same hard eyes and sneer that she realized she was wearing herself. The hand she had hooked under his upper arm could feel the large biceps muscle there tense, rock-hard, and she knew that he was also waiting an opportunity to unleash his own fury. As they reached the door of the prison the group halted as the jailkeeper, a paunchy, middle-aged soldier with a long graying moustache, wearing a plain chain-mail and cloth uniform topped by a simple oval-domed helmet that resembled a short dunce cap, met Maximus and looked over his charges with wide eyes. "Good Lord, sir, you hooked some big ones tonight!" he exclaimed. "How many men did you loose in roundin' up this surly lot?" "None, fortunately," Maximus responded, "the good Lord was indeed with us tonight." "Any particular place you want them put?" the jailkeep asked. "I would think the dungeon would be best." "Ah, sorry sir. The dungeon is closed right now. It's undergoing renovations to make it handicapped-accessible for the tour groups. Lord Farquaad's orders." The jailkeep's eyes narrowed as he asked in a softer voice, "Is it true what they said happened to him?" "Yes," Maximus replied, "King Farquaad was devoured by a dragon, under the direction of this group, who were themselves, no doubt, acting under the influence of THE dragon, the King of Lies, Lucifer himself!" "Saints preserve us!" the jailkeep gasped, crossing himself, "That be heavy!" Then, after thinking for a moment, he said, "Well, most of the cells already have prisoners in them. There's so many laws governin' behavior nowadays it's hard to turn around without breakin' at least two of 'em. But we do have a cell that only has one prisoner, the leader of that pack of robbers they brought in earlier today." "Sturdy bars?" "Oh, yes, sir!" the jailkeep said with a touch of pride. "It was chosen specifically for that fellow, since he's been known to affect an escape or two of his own. It'd hold an elephant, I'd wager! It should do for this crew." "Very well," Maximus said, and signaled to his men to lead their prisoners forward. As they entered the door and proceeded down a stone torch-lit hallway following the jailkeeper, Maximus, sword drawn, made sure his men took extra precautions should the ogres or donkey try another escape. At one point in the short trek Fiona thought she saw an opportunity and began to make a move, only to feel Shrek tense his arm to force her hand to stay between it and his side. "Steady," he mumbled softly, as if he were trying to rein back a wild mustang, instead of an ogress with the spirit of one. She reluctantly yielded to his judgement -- for now. Eventually the group of prisoners rounded a corner into a small room containing a single cell -- and in that cell, a single prisoner. But the face of that prisoner, as he stood from where he was sitting on one of the two bunks to behold his visitors, was familiar. Very familiar. "MONSIEUR HOOD!" the ogres gasped in unison. Donkey quickly peeked around from his obscured view behind his friends, saw the robber, and said, "Oh, no, not HIM again!" "Sacre bleu!" the tall, dark-haired, green-clad figure exclaimed in a thick French accent. He smacked the palm of his hand against the forehead of what most would describe as a sturdily handsome face and said, "Not zat green beast again! And who izzat with hem, his mate?!" Fiona's eyes narrowed as she stared at Hood. "I'm nobody's 'MATE', you two-bit highwayman!" she shot back at him as the jailkeep unlocked and opened the cell door, "I'm --" "'Queen' Fiona of Duloc," Maximus finished for her, then gesturing toward the man already in the cell, "meet the 'Prince' of Thieves. Both, alas, dethroned." "We've already met," Fiona said coldly as she, Shrek, and Donkey were ushered into the cell. "We have?" the robber said, a look of confusion crossing his face as he stroked his goatee and tried to concentrate, "I do not recall zee occasion. However," he turned to Shrek as the cell door was shut and locked, "YOU, Monsieur, I recall very well! How you managed to elude my daggar, knock me cold, and zen defeat my brave band speaks of great agility or great magic!" Shrek started to open his mouth, but Fiona spoke up first. "HE knocked you cold and defeated your band?!" she repeated, aghast. "Mai oui," Hood confirmed, "one minute I was about to ram my blade through his 'eart, and zen -- poof -- no-thing. Out cold. When I awoke, my men and I were in a barred wagon heading for Duloc. Zey told me zat, while I was out, zey put up a spirited fight, but zee hideous monster was too quick and powerful for zem." He bowed his head briefly to Shrek, "No offence intended." Fiona's jaw dropped. "THEY told you HE defeated them?" she repeated again, her dander up. "The liars! I'M the one who defeated them! AND knocked you out, too, for that matter!" Hood frowned. "Hummm," he mused, "you mean you were hiding nearby, and attacked us when you saw your fellow beast in danger?" he asked, then continued without waiting for a reply, "Yes, zat would explain why I was caught off-guard, and may-be my men were confused --" "HIDING, NOTHING!" Fiona fumed, "I was up in a tree, where YOU put me! I was the human princess! Remember? Red hair? Gold tiara? Green felt dress?" Hood looked at Fiona's still red hair, scrutinized her facial features more closely, and then brightened. "Aha! Je comprend! You changed into an ogre zen leapt down to give battle!" "No, no, no!" Fiona said, frustrated, "I was still human at the time!" "You mean -- surely you DON'T mean -- " Hood stammered, "zat you -- as a HUMAN GIRL -- defeated my merry men and I -- ALONE?" "YES!" she shouted at Hood's incredulous expression, "That's EXACTLY what --" She stopped as she caught the faint chuckling beside her and swung toward Shrek. "And just what are YOU laughing at?!" she demanded. Shrek stopped chuckling, then smiled at her and said, "Fiona, m'love, let's just say that a bunch of macho men lyin' about bein' trashed by some skinny little vixen is one of the LEAST unbelievable things that's happened the last coupl'a days. "Oh, yeah," Fiona said, peeved, "and I'm sure it doesn't bother you that YOU get all the credit. But then, it does help your precious reputation as a big bad ogre, doesn't it?" "I don't give a darn about my bad reputation," Shrek sighed, "I just wanna go home to the swamp. All of us. But it looks like that plan's been but on hold for a while." He turned to Hood. "How did ye wind up here, anyway?" Hood started to reply, but Maximus spoke up from outside the cell. "Some hunters heard a disturbance in the woods. When they went to investigate, they found the 'people's champion' and his cohorts knocked unconscious. The hunters ran for the nearby sheriff and the gang was rounded up and shipped here, as we were the nearest facility that could handle them all. They arrived earlier today -- actually, it was yesterday now -- while everybody was busy with all the wedding preparations." "So where's the others? Hood's gang, I mean?" Shrek asked. Maximus shrugged. "They're in a cell in another room. We decided to separate them, just to be safe. We didn't want him and his men planning any escape attempts while we were preoccupied with preparing for the wedding and coronation of our king and new queen." Maximus gave a scornful smile. "I suppose we were worried about the wrong group of conspirators." He placed a hand over one of the thick bars and tried to shake it. It had no give. "It looks like this should do," he said, and nodded to the jailkeep, who nodded back appreciatively. "I'll keep an eye on 'em, sir!" the jailkeep promised. "Good man," Maximus said, then turned to face the prisoners. "We'll let you know what we plan to do with you. Have a ... pleasant night." "But, zir?" Hood spoke up, approaching the bars, "Do you mean to just leave me locked in here with zeese ... beasts?" A glint of fear reflected briefly in his eyes. Maximus shrugged again. "Criminals cannot be so choosy about the company they keep. Don't worry. If anything happens to you, it will add to the charges already piled on their heads." "An' those charges ARE?" Shrek asked, a challenge in his voice. "For you?" Maximus said, "I'm no lawyer, but off the top of my head, I'd say conspiracy to commit murder and, since you're a resident of Duloc, at least peripherally, I'd add treason. The same would go for your furry friend," he nodded toward donkey, "and as for the 'Queen'," he looked over at Fiona, "Conspiracy would just be the start of the crimes. But again, I'm no lawyer." Donkey suddenly spoke up. "Speakin' of lawyers, ain't we entitled to one?" "Hummm," Maximus mused, "a fascinating concept. I'm sure that's one of the laws that the 'queen' would have changed if given a little more time to wreck further havoc with Dulocian law." Fiona stepped forward to the bars and looked directly into Maxiums's face. "And just what 'havoc' have I wrought so far?" she demanded. Maximus sighed. "Your edict concerning the fairy tale folk, for one. I'm afraid you really gave yourself away, 'Your Majesty'. Surely, this was just the beginning of the end of Dulocian society. Fortunately, Captain Gledius was able to see it all coming. Your edict only confirmed his suspicions." Fiona frowned. "All my edict did was free them from unlawful imprisonment --" "But it is not unlawful if they were imprisoned by order of law!" Maximus objected. Fiona shook her head. "That's circular argument, Lieutenant. By that reasoning, what I did was lawful as I was functioning as Duloc's lawful ruler." "But not if you assumed that position by unlawful means," Maximus said, then smiled smugly. "Captain Gledius explained it all to me." "Did he?" Fiona said sarcastically. "Then tell me, Lieutenant, if he explained to you about the law, did he also explain to you about JUSTICE?" Maximus squinted. "I don't understand." "Do you believe it was JUST to imprison all those fairy tale folk when they had done nothing wrong? When their only crime was just being different?" she asked simply. Maximus allowed himself to think for a moment, then quickly shook his head. "My job is not to think about such things. My job is to --" "Carry out orders?" Fiona finished for him. "Well, yes, actually," he conceded. Fiona shook her head. "Do you know how much evil has been done in this world by soldiers for whom that was their only concern?" "My concern," Maximus retorted indignantly, "is to serve Duloc!" "That was MY concern, also!" Fiona objected. "That is why I STAYED here after the wedding and -- and what happened after, instead of flying away on the dragon." "NO!" Maximus said, "That was all a trick! It was all planned! You're some sort of sorceress, and you schemed to lure Farquaad into marrying you so that you could kill him and inherit the crown, then loose your fairy tale fiends to infiltrate Duloc, pollute our society, and turn it into your own magic kingdom!" Fiona sighed. "Lieutenant, if I have the power you seem to think I have, and I am as devious as you seem to think I am, why on EARTH would I have intentionally changed into an ogress when I did? Would I not have bided my time, and retained my human form, until a more opportune moment? THINK, Lieutenant! You seemed to me an honorable man when I first met you. There is indeed a deceiver in Duloc, and a would-be usurper, I believe, but that person is not I." "You -- you're -- you're trying to confuse me!" Maximus stammered, confused. "You're just trying to spread innuendo, to turn we humans against each other, so that you may pursue your own INhuman plans!" Fiona sighed again, and shook her head. "Lieutenant Maximus," she said softly, "when I was a human -- that is, when I believed I was MEANT to be human, but was changed into this form at night, I looked upon my ogre-self with the same eyes that you now look upon me, and with the same notions you apparently hold. Surely, I thought, such ugliness was a manifestation of something bad, maybe even of something EVIL, but at the LEAST something to be avoided, to be shied away from, and preferably locked away. The physical appearances of creatures such as ogres, I thought, were a mark from God so as to separate the 'good' from the 'bad', the desirable from the degenerate. Inward goodness and purity, I believed, were mirrored by exterior beauty and grace, like in the fairy tales. As for myself, I thought there was NO WAY I was REALLY an ogress. It was just the result of a witch's curse -- herself another of God's 'bad' creatures. I was REALLY human. REAL ogres were big, stupid, ugly brutes. I might LOOK like one, but there was no way I WAS one -- not inside. Well, since then, after I met a REAL ogre, I realized that maybe ogres weren't perhaps ideal guests to invite to stuffy embassy balls, but they weren't BAD, just different. And true beauty is in the mind, not just the eye, of the beholder. The heart, after all, is on the INSIDE. There's good and bad in all of us, Lieutenant., whether ogre or human, or any other sentient being, and we all have the ability to choose between the two. I was a fool to think God so shallow. The world He has created is much more diverse, and its inhabitants more magnificently complex, than I was giving Him credit for. You believe in God, don't you, Lieutenant?" "Of COURSE!" Maximus replied curtly. "Then please, use the brain -- and heart -- He gave you. Think about all the things that happened this night. Think of EVERYTHING. See if you can't figure out who the true deceiver is, and what justice demands. There IS right and wrong here, Lieutenant. Please make sure that you're on the right side. Do your duty to Duloc, and to God." Maximus paused, apparently in thought, for several seconds. Then his countenance hardened and he approached Fiona and glared at her through the bars. "You're quite right," he said, "there IS a deceiver here, one whose honeyed words and specious arguments can tempt the righteous to follow him into hell just like those deluded angels cast with him from heaven!" He leaned forward until his face was mere inches from hers, then spat out reproachfully, "Get thee behind me, Satan!" He then whirled away from her and marched out of the room, the other soldiers following obediently. Only the jailkeep remained. He looked at the prisoners, gave a short chortle, and then settled in behind a small worn desk, propped his feet up, pulled out a magazine -- "Meadow and Moat" was its title, with smaller letters beneath that read "A Publication of the Provincial Longbow Association" - - and started reading. Donkey sighed. "Why can't we all just get along?" he asked no one in particular. He received no answer. Fiona's shoulders sagged and her head plopped against the bars in defeat. Shrek came over and patted her gently on one shoulder. "It's okay," he said softly, "ye tried. Ye spoke well ... an' true." Fiona shook her head resignedly, then muttered, "Blasted humans." * * * Goldilocks moved a few more yards through the woods, back- tracking in the moonlight down the narrow dirt road that the soldiers had taken to bring her from Duloc to the witch's place. The darkness and creepy woodlands sounds frightened her, as did the thought of what the witch might do if she caught her with her borrowed broom, but the small girl was determined. If nobody else would help Queen Fiona, well, SHE would. She had no idea HOW yet, but she would think of something when she got there. And then the queen and her boyfriend would be safe, would wed, and would live happily ever after. After all, that's how things worked out in her storybooks. Goldilocks stopped and let out a long yawn. It was WAY past her bedtime now. She hoped that her mother wouldn't be too mad at her for disobeying her and going for an adventure in the woods -- again -- but surely she would understand when everything turned out well in Duloc. The lack of sleep wasn't the only thing tiring the young girl. Her legs were also weary. And there was still a long way to go. She decided that now was as good a time as any to try out the broom. She tried placing it under her in the position that she had seen witches ride them, then called "GO!" Nothing happened. She called "AWAY!" Nothing. She sighed resignedly, but then had another idea. She laid the broom flat on the ground, stood beside it, held out one arm parallel to the ground with the palm of her hand facing down toward the broomstick, then commanded "UP!" Nothing. "UP!" she said again, more forcefully and less patiently. Still nothing, not even a tremor. Goldilocks gave a frustrated grunt, then reached down and snatched up the broom. "I'll figure you out yet!" she promised as she trekked down the path toward Duloc again, dragging the broom beside her.