Layer 4:  Preparations


The Piper was sitting at his table, finishing another piece of pie, 
when he saw Feldgud appear, catch his eye, and then move towards 
him.  The villager cast wary glances in all directions as he 
approached, and the Piper could see that he was clutching a small 
sack and a scroll tightly to his chest.  The Piper sighed, wiped his 
mouth with a napkin, and then looked up at the clock.  It had been 
nearly an hour to the dot.  At least the man was punctual.

Feldgud retook the seat at the table across from the Piper.  Then 
Feldgud said simply, "The map" and shoved the scroll -- made of 
parchment paper -- across to the musician.

The Piper unwound it partially and saw a hand-drawn but relatively 
detailed map of the area leading from a spot marked with a scribbled 
'Typical Village' next to it to another area similarly labeled 
'Ogres' Swamp' and finally to one labeled 'Devil's Drainpipe'.  
"Very good," the Piper said, re-winding the scroll, "although you 
needn't have given me directions how to get to the swamp from this 
village.  I have been there before."

"Really?" Feldgud said, surprised and suspicious.

"Yes.  During Farquaad's attempted purge of 'undesirables' I was 
deigned to fall into that inauspicious category and was temporarily 
resettled there, although not long enough to learn of useful 
regional landmarks such as this Devil's Drainpipe."

"But ... if that's the case ... then from what I've heard the ogre's 
actions eventually led to your freedom," Feldgud said, trying to 
come to grips with the ironic fact that he had been dealing with an 
officially declared Fairy Tale Freak.  "Don't you feel any ..."

"Gratitude?" the Piper suggested.  Feldgud nodded.  The Piper smiled 
a half-smile and replied, "The ogre was acting in his own self-
interest when he left the swamp after finding us camped out there in 
his 'quest' to reclaim it.  His only concern for us was to see about 
getting us kicked off of his land.  If those other fools around me 
couldn't see that and chose to regard the ogre as some sort of hero 
rather than the selfish brute he was, that is not MY concern.  No.  
I have no delusions of gratitude.  But I do have my needs.  And 
currently those include ... my fee."

"Huh?" Feldgud said, confused for a moment.  Then he uttered, "Oh!" 
and pushed a small cloth sack across the table. 

 The Piper picked the sack up, feeling and hearing coins shifting 
inside.  But not enough coins.  "This is only about half of our 
agreed amount," he said darkly.

"I know," Feldgud said, trying to sound brave despite the sweat 
starting to bead on his brow.  "You'll receive the other half when 
the job is done."  Here Feldgud pulled out a second sack -- the same 
size as the first -- and jiggled it slightly so that it made a small 
jingling sound.  He then put it back away.

The Piper smiled.  "You don't trust me?"

"And why should I?" Feldgud asked, still trying to screw up some 
courage.  "All I've heard so far is talk.  For full payment, I need 
to see action!"

"Very well, you shall," the Piper said, rising from the table.

"What are you doing?" Feldgud asked, confused.

"I'm off to attend to our agreed-to task," the Piper replied, taking 
enough money from the sack Feldgud had given him to cover his food 
and tip and leaving it on the table.  "Meet me at this Devil's 
Drainpipe later this evening.  I will have the ogress with me.  But 
I will expect full payment at that time before I have her ... take 
the plunge, if you will."

"But ..." -- Feldgud's courage started to unscrew -- "that's a very 
unstable area; not just the Drainpipe, but there's other sinkholes 
opening around there all the time.  Plus, what if the sheriff sees 
me leave --"

"Meet me there," the Piper said, "or I will regard you as having 
reneged on our bargain.  I will not only free the ogress, I will 
make sure that they both know exactly who contracted for her 
demise."

Feldgud blushed.  "When will you be there with her?"

"I'm not sure," the Piper said.  "This will be a delicate operation; 
I will have to wait for my opportunity and not rush things.  It 
requires patience on my part.  I now require the same from you."  
The Piper then touched the upturned brim of his hat, said, "I shall 
see you later," and then from below the table retrieved a 
rectangular black leather case, some two feet long by  eight inches 
wide by six inches deep, and made his way out of the tavern.  Once 
outside, he carefully looked around to make sure he wasn't being 
unduly watched, then started up the dirt road where it lead in the 
general direction of the ogres' swamp.

*     *     *

Following the long embrace with his father, Shrek had shared a 
similar embrace with his mother.  They then settled down into chairs 
-- Groyl in Shrek's easy chair, Moyre in Fiona's rocking chair, and 
Shrek in one of the wooden dinner chairs which he pulled over from 
the table and turned towards his parents -- and then Shrek began to 
tell them of his adventures since they had last seen him.  As Shrek 
did so, he became so intent on relating his tales to his parents and 
his parents so wrapped up in hearing them that they all seemed to 
forget that Fiona was even in the room.  For the most part Fiona was 
content with that, considering the circumstances, and sat for a 
while quietly in one of the other wooden chairs, which she left in 
place at the table a bit apart from the bonding trio before her.  
She sipped some tea -- in mute defiance of Moyre as much as her 
affinity for the brew -- and listened to Shrek's stories.  Fiona had 
heard most of them before, and smiled to herself when she noted some 
detail which Shrek had inadvertently changed from when he had told 
it to her, and she wondered whether she had heard the truer version 
-- or his parents -- or the truth lay somewhere in between.  At 
other times Shrek relayed a tale to his parents with which she was 
not familiar herself, and part of her felt a little jealous that he 
had shared it with them before he had with her.  But another part of 
Fiona realized that her husband had spent years adventuring about in 
the world experiencing strange and exotic things while she had sat 
locked in a tower simply waiting for an adventurer to find HER.  It 
would take some time before she learned all there was to know about 
this unique being to whom she had bound her life.  And wasn't that 
discovery process part of the fun?  Still, after a while, the less 
rational part of Fiona's mind started to feel somewhat neglected by 
the continued exclusion as Shrek prattled on, and she started to 
feel that she would appreciate something that would disrupt the 
little three-way tete-a-tete, if only for a little while.  The 
thought made her feel somewhat guilty, but then she took comfort in 
the knowledge that without her earlier intervention, Shrek's parents 
would at his behest have stormed out of their home, possibly never 
to see their son again.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door.  All eyes quickly turned 
there, in the case of Shrek and his parents with irritation as much 
as curiosity.   If Fiona had secretly been wishing for a disruption, 
the wish had surely been granted.  Again feeling a tad guilty, she 
said, "I've got it!" and bounced from her chair and started toward 
the door.

"Be careful, Fi," Shrek called as she was about to open the door.

Fiona turned and smiled at her husband's concern.   "Thanks, 
sweetie," she said, with silent gratitude that she was suddenly back 
on his radar.  "But I'm a big girl now.  Remember?"  Still, to 
placate him, she pulled back the flap and looked out the knothole.  
She recognized their unexpected visitor immediately.  She smiled, 
opened the door, and said, "Come on in, Donkey!"

"Why, thank you, Princess, don't mind if I do!" a voice very 
familiar to the homeowners said, then a small gray donkey stepped 
across their threshold. As he did so he looked Fiona up and down and 
said, "Say, nice outfit, Princess!  That's a different look for you 
-- are you outta set some sorta new fashion trend?"

"What?" Fiona asked, confused for a moment, then looked down at 
herself and realized that she was still wearing her apron and 
Shrek's shirt.  She also noticed that the shirt's wide neckline had 
inadvertently fallen somewhat askew, with one edge now resting 
against her neck on one side while the opening went as far as 
exposing the upper part of her arm on the other.  Any culture that 
would adapt THAT as a 'fashion trend', Fiona thought, would be 
tasteless indeed.  Aloud, she said, "Oh, shoot!  I really need to 
change.  But first, I'd like you to meet a couple of very special 
visitors today."  She moved aside slightly to where she stood beside 
Donkey but was facing Shrek's parents, who had risen upon Donkey's 
entrance and were gawking at him in wonder.  "Donkey," Fiona said, 
trying to sound official, "I'd like you to meet Shrek's parents, his 
father Groyl and his mother Moyre."

Donkey's eyes opened wide and he gave a broad, toothy grin.  "Oh, 
WOW!" he said excitedly.  "Mr. and Mrs.  ... uh, Shrek's Parents!  
Hey, yeah, I DO see the resemblance, Shrek!  Man, am I happy to meet 
you guys!  Shrek said -- hey, waitaminute!"  Donkey's eyebrows 
knitted in confusion as the animal looked over at Shrek, who had 
also risen.  "Shrek, didn't you tell me your parents were --"

"It's a long story, Donkey," Shrek said with an embarrassed smile.  
"I'll tell ye 'bout it later.  But Fiona's right -- these really ARE 
my parents."

Groyl and Moyre continued to stare, both smiling amusedly.  "So!" 
Groyl said to Shrek.  "This is the stallion we read about who helped 
ye crash that ball, is it?"

Donkey's face sagged and his voice lost all enthusiasm as he said, 
"Yeah, well, I WAS a stallion.  Now I'm just --"

"Just one of the bravest, noblest, most loyal friends anybody could 
ever ask for!" Fiona gushed, then leaned down and kissed Donkey on 
the forehead.
   
"Ah, shucks!" Donkey said, blushing, the smile returning to his 
face.

"Don't think that I'm not glad t'see ye, Donkey," Shrek said, "but 
we weren't expecting ye over today.  Weren't ye gonna spend it with 
your family?"

"Well, I WAS," Donkey said.  "But 'turned out that the kids' flyin' 
lessons was today, so Dragon was gonna take 'em for a spin over 
round her old castle.  I woulda rode with her, but she was gonna 
show 'em how ta do loop-de-loops, which makes it kinda hard to hold 
on.  So I said, 'hey, you go ahead and I'll drop by Shrek and 
Fiona's for a while and meet ya over at their house later.'  So here 
I am!"

Moyre, her face bearing a bewildered expression, looked over to 
Shrek.  "Dragons, kids, and ... FLYING lessons?" she asked.

Shrek chuckled.  "That's an even LONGER story," he said.

"I'd be glad ta tell it!" Donkey volunteered.

"I'm sure ye would," Shrek said with a wry smile.

"Well, we're glad to have you, Donkey," Fiona said.  "We were just 
about to eat dinner.  Would you like to join us?"

"Really?" Donkey said, perking up even more enthusiastically.  
"Sounds great!  What'cho havin'?"

"Odd Ends Stew," Fiona replied.

"Oh."  Donkey said.  "Uh -- what's in it?"

Fiona began listing the ingredients.  As she did so, Donkey began 
looking less and less enthusiastic.  As Fiona concluded, he said, 
"Uh, y'know, on second thought, I DID eat a big breakfast.  Maybe I 
could just have a salad?"

"As you like, Donkey," Fiona laughed.  She looked over at Shrek, who 
smiled and winked at her.  "But first, I think I should slip into 
something else before a delegation from Duloc decides to drop in as 
well."

"Ye go ahead, Fi," Shrek said.  "I'll start setting up for dinner."

"Oh, Shrek," Fiona protested.  "I didn't mean for you to have to --"

"Hey, it's not a problem!" Shrek said.  "Just 'cause I'm a male, I'm 
not helpless.  Ye go on!"

Shrek turned to retrieve some bowls as Fiona instinctively glanced 
over at Moyre.  The elder ogress smiled sweetly and said, "Yes, 
dear.  You go ahead.  We'll do fine here without ye."

Fiona sighed, then said, "All right.  I'll be right back."  She then 
turned and headed into the bedroom, adding silently under her breath, 
"As much as that might disappoint you."

*     *     *

The Piper stood on the opposite slope of the small hill that 
overlooked Shrek and Fiona's home.  He peered over the crest of the 
hill at the little house, then kneeled so that he was out of sight 
of anyone who might glance out.  He had only been there a few 
minutes, just long enough to see a small gray donkey gain admittance 
to the abode, thus confirming that someone was there, and since he 
knew that there were only two ogres, that meant the odds were 
excellent that his mark was home.

As he knelt, the Piper unlatched his black leather-bound case, then 
opened it.  Inside, encased in form-fitting protective foam lining, 
were various instruments of his trade.  The Piper began his business 
with professional efficiency.  First, he withdrew two eight-inch 
long sleek ebony halves of a special woodwind pipe instrument -- a 
type of chalumeau -- and screwed the pieces together.  Then he 
withdrew a telescopic sight with an extended scope mount and snapped 
it onto the chalumeau.  Next he looked over his selection of 
specialized mouthpieces, each bearing a small label indicative of 
its purpose.  He found the one labeled 'Ogre Leader' and attached it 
to one end of the instrument.  He then pulled out the last part that 
he would need for this assignment -- a silencer, whose purpose was 
to prevent anyone from hearing his music except the person or thing 
that he had trained in the telescopic sight.  He screwed the 
silencer into the bell end of the chalumeau, then closed and latched 
the case.  He then attached the handle of the case to a special hook 
on the back of his belt, then laid on his stomach and, chalumeau 
clutched in one hand, began crawling up the hill until he  could see 
the ogres' home just over its crest.  He then brought the chalumeau 
up so that the mouthpiece was in his mouth and then he adjusted the 
extensions of the telescopic sight until it was comfortably aligned 
with one eye.  He did not blow through the instrument yet, but 
scanned the front of the shanty with the sight, adjusting its focus 
as he trained its crosshairs at various objects, ending with the 
center of the door.  He then sat the instrument down, within easy 
reach should his quarry appear.  His preparations were complete.  It 
would now simply be a matter of time.  As he settled himself down to 
wait, he reached into a pocket and pulled out an individually 
wrapped snack pie -- this one blueberry -- then quietly tore the 
packaging open and began to eat as he patiently kept watch on the 
home.

*     *     *

Fiona entered her and Shrek's bedroom and closed the door behind 
her.  "'We'll do fine without ye, dear'", she said in a voice 
mocking Moyre.  She then marched over to the bed, picked up a 
pillow, held it tightly against her face, and screamed as loudly as 
she dared.  Then she did it again.  After a third scream she felt 
better.  She dropped the pillow back into place, sighed, and headed 
for the closet.

She looked over the dresses she had hung for ready use.  She 
considered her newer, decorative steel green dress she had worn 
during that memorable first dinner with her own family and Shrek, 
and which she had also somehow ended up wearing at the ball (she 
wasn't sure how) after her transformation from human back into 
ogress.  No, she decided, she would not wear that one.  The dinner 
connection didn't bode well, and besides, it was too ornate compared 
to what her in-laws were wearing.  Goodness knew WHAT Moyre would 
say if the princess suddenly appeared OVER-dressed.

Fiona moved on to the dress hung beside that one, and a wistful 
smile found its way to her lips.  It was the kelly-green felt dress 
with the gold trim that she had been wearing when Shrek rescued her 
from Dragon's castle and during that memorable journey back to 
Duloc.  It had a few slightly worn areas here and there from the 
many adventures it had seen and spills she had taken in it.  Fiona 
took hold of a sleeve of the dress and gently rubbed the soft 
material between her fingers with affection.  But then she sighed.  
No, this was perhaps a bit much as well.  She then moved a bit 
further down the closet -- past a couple of other plainer dresses 
that might have been sufficient --  to a new outfit she had recently 
designed and made herself -- well, made with help from Shrek, whose 
self-sufficient tailoring skills, like his cooking skills, still 
exceeded the princess's own.  It was a very basic design that she 
had based on Shrek's own favorite outfit.  It featured a long-
sleeved blouse made from the same off-white material as Shrek's 
shirts.  Over this went a jumper made of tanned alligator leather  
for the part that went from her shoulders down to her waist in a 'V' 
pattern, and attached to that a brown felt skirt part that fell from 
the waist to her ankles.  Across the waist, separating the leather 
part and the felt part, went a four-inch wide black belt.  (She 
remembered debating with Shrek about the belt color -- if it should 
be brown like the rest of the jumper or off-white to match the 
underlying blouse -- but Shrek had said, 'Sweetheart, I've seen ye 
in action.  Ye deserve a black belt.')  Although Fiona had not worn 
it before except to try it on for fitting, she decided now was as 
good a time to debut it as any.  She pulled off the apron and 
Shrek's shirt and then pulled on the various parts of the new 
outfit.  Next she slipped her feet into a pair of snakeskin 
sandals to complete the ensemble.  She then examined herself in a 
full length mirror that was mounted to one wall and still worked 
relatively well despite a crack that ran through its middle that had 
been caused one morning when it caught an unfortunate reflection of 
Shrek giving a fully open-mouthed yawn and scratching his behind at 
the same time.  Fiona thought the outfit fit rather well ... in more 
ways than one.

Fiona then walked over to her vanity, took a seat, and stared at her 
own reflection in the vanity mirror.  After a few moments, she got a 
sudden irrational impulse and reached behind her head, undid the 
ribbons that held her braided pony-tail, and then pulled the braid 
apart.  She then violently shook her head for a few seconds and then 
stopped and looked back at the new refection in the mirror.  Her 
hair was now tossed and wild and disheveled.  In short, except for 
its superior length and body, it resembled Moyre's 'style' -- or 
lack thereof.  A smirk played on Fiona's lips, and then she forced a 
mock sneer as she looked at herself and snarled with theatrical 
exaggeration but in a volume she made sure remained low enough not 
to be heard in the next room, "I am an OGRE.  ROAAAR!"

"Ye'll need t'put more heart into it than that, Fi," her husband's 
voice, tinged with humor, came from the now open doorway.  "But 
don't go too far or ye'll break the mirror."

Fiona gave a little shriek, looked back to see Shrek standing there, 
and grabbed at her chest.  "Good grief, Shrek!" she said, trying to 
catch her breath, "Have you taken some sort of life insurance policy 
out on me that I don't know about, since you seem intent on 
FRIGHTENING me to death?"

"Sorry, sweetheart," Shrek said, but chuckled anyway as he closed 
the door behind him.  "I just wanted t'see how ye were holding up 
with my folks ... and to say thank ye."

"Thank you?" she asked.  "For what?"

"For stepping in and keeping 'em here when I was ready to toss 'em 
out.  Ye ... ye don't know how much that means t'me."

Fiona smiled.  "Watching you and your folks the past hour or so, I 
think I'm getting an idea."  She then turned back to the mirror and 
gestured towards her reflection.  "What do you think?" she asked.  
"How do you like the new me?"

She watched in the mirror while Shrek came up behind her and rested 
his hands on the back of her shoulders as he also examined her 
reflection.  "Not bad, if you're talking 'bout the new outfit," he 
said.  "Not bad at all.  I see ye've decided to try it out."

"It seemed an appropriate occasion," she replied.

Shrek ran a hand lightly through her disheveled hair.  "And this?" 
he asked.

She shrugged.  "Isn't this style more ... ograrian?"

Shrek sighed.  "Have my folks been giving ye a hard time?"

"Not your father," Fiona replied.  "He's been a perfect gentleman.  
In fact, it's hard to believe that ... uh, never mind."

Shrek smiled as he saw Fiona blush and look down.  "Hard t'believe 
that he's the father to such an ill-tempered ogre?" he asked.

"Shrek, I didn't mean --"

"It's okay, Fiona!" Shrek laughed.  "Actually, Dad IS a lot more 
like me ... at least as I remember him ... if ye stick him out in a 
swamp and he has t'deal with everyday irritations.  Remember what I 
told ye, Fi.  Ogres are like --"

"Onions, yes, we have layers," she finished for him.  "Well, onions 
have skins, too, and I'm afraid your mother is starting to get under 
mine."

"So if my dad's been a 'perfect gentleman', then my mom's been ... 
something else?"

"Ha!" Fiona guffawed.  "Your mom's been 'something else', all right!  
Practically -- no, LITERALLY from the moment she laid eyes on me 
she's been getting digs in about my human background.  I mean, good 
grief, Shrek, she's never even given me a CHANCE!"  Then Fiona 
sighed and looked up at his reflection in the mirror.  "But I guess 
you know how that feels, huh?" she asked apologetically.

Shrek shrugged.  "I have a rough idea," he allowed.  "Enough to know 
it's something I don't want YOU to have t'go through.  I'll have a 
talk with'er."

"No!" Fiona objected.  "Don't!  It'll only make things worse -- 
she'll figure I complained to you just to poison you against her.  
No, let me try for a while longer, first."

"But Fi, if what she says hurts ye --"

"I'll be fine," she said, perhaps not as convincingly as she'd 
liked.

"All right," Shrek said reluctantly, "but remember --" he laid both 
his massive hands on the back of her shoulders again and squeezed 
gently -- "I'm on your side in this."

"I appreciate that, dearest," she said lovingly, reaching back to 
lay her left hand on top of his right and looking back up directly 
into his face.  "I just pray we don't have to pick sides, but that 
we all end up on the same one instead."

Shrek leaned down and he and Fiona shared a kiss.  Then he reached 
forward to the vanity table and retrieved a brush.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

Shrek gestured towards her hair.  "That's not REALLY you, is it, 
Fi?"

"Well," she said, "I ... uh ..."

Shrek sighed.  "Like I said b'fore, sweetheart, ye don't need t'go 
changing to try and please me ... or ANYBODY else."  He began gently 
brushing her hair back into its normal style as he continued, "And 
don't go trying to figure out what ogresses are SUPPOSED t'be like, 
or try to figure out which part o' your personality is ogre and 
which part's human.  'Cause you're a very unique person, and just as 
steel is that much stronger for being an amalgamation of diffr'nt 
metals, you're that much more special for all those ingredients, the 
best of both species -- things like beauty, strength, intelligence, 
courage, wit, charm, passion, COMpassion, and character -- that 
blend together t'create that richly complex, one-of-a-kind 
individual known as Princess Fiona of Far Far Away, who I'm the 
luckiest being on this planet t'be able t'call my wife."

Fiona felt a tear well in one eye.  She smiled at her husband's 
reflection and said in a soft voice, "My!   Sir Shrek, thou dost 
have a way with words!"

Shrek smiled back ... then the smile turned into a mischievous grin 
as Shrek said, "Yeah, well, maybe I'm channeling Prince Charming."

"Oh, yuck!" Fiona said, her face souring.  "Unfortunately, you also 
know how to spoil a mood."  Suddenly the memory of cherry-flavored 
lips being forced against hers sprang into Fiona's mind, and she 
reflexively reached up and wiped off her mouth.  For Shrek's part, 
hearing and seeing Fiona's reaction to his remark gave his heart a 
little leap of joy.

Shrek had finished brushing back the main part of Fiona's hair.  He 
now brushed out her pony tail then retrieved a ribbon from the 
vanity and tied off the top part.  Then he started redoing her 
braid.

"What are you DOING?" she asked.

"Braiding your hair," he replied simply.

"So how did YOU ever learn to braid girls' hair?" she asked, quite 
surprised.

Shrek shrugged as he carefully worked her hair, his large fingers 
surprisingly nimble.  "Sometimes in the 'morn I'd lay in bed and 
watch ye while sat here and did it yourself."

Fiona raised an eyebrow.  "Really?" she asked.  "You always looked 
asleep to me."

Shrek shrugged, somewhat embarrassed.  "I'd ... uh ... sometimes 
pretend.  I mean, the way ye looked in the 'morn ... with that fresh 
new light filtering through the window and glistening of'a ye ... 
and ye looking so peaceful an' serene sitting here at the vanity 
watching yourself in the mirror as ye did your hair.  It's so ... 
well, I didn't wanna spoil anything, so I'd just kinda keep quiet 
and pretend t'be asleep ... secret-like..."  Shrek paused.  The 
words were becoming increasing uncomfortable for him to say.   He 
looked in the mirror and saw Fiona watching his own reflection with 
those deep blue eyes, a sweet smile on her lips.  He felt himself 
blush, then he shrugged and said, "So anyway, that's how I learned 
t'braid your hair."

Fiona continued to stare at his reflection as they both fell into 
silence.  As he concentrated harder on the braid, Shrek 
unconsciously started sticking the tip of his tongue out of one 
corner of his mouth, causing Fiona to have to suppress a giggle.  
Sometimes she felt such love for this ogre she thought her heart 
couldn't contain it all and would just burst.  But his allusion to 
'secret' triggered an uneasiness which continued to gnaw at her even 
as she watched him, and eventually she felt it needed to be 
addressed.

"Shrek," she began warily, "speaking of secrets, I can't help but 
wish you'd told me about your parents."

He sighed.  "I know ... and like I said, I'm sorry, Fi, but ..."

"I understand you felt hurt.  But ... Shrek, I'm your WIFE.  I know 
you're used to being a private person, and I don't mean to pry into 
every little episode of your life or corner of your mind.  But Shrek 
... something as important as this ... when you DON'T tell me ... 
well, it hurts ME.  It makes me feel like you don't trust me.  
Besides ..." here she allowed herself a wry chuckle "this whole 
family doesn't do well with secrets.  They always manage to get 
exposed in the most unexpected and inopportune ways, whether at a 
marriage ceremony or at a royal ball or simply by showing up at your 
front door."

Shrek's face assumed a pensive expression as he appeared to be 
mulling over her words.  He finished up the last strands of the 
braid at a progressively slower pace.  "You're right, of course," he 
eventually said, then sighed.  "Okay, Fi.  No more secrets.  I 
promise.  Well, no big ones."  Here he offered a little smile and 
added, "I hope ye don't mind if I hide the planning of a birthday 
party or two from ye in the future."

"No.  Not at all," Fiona said gently, smiling.  "And thank you."

"No problem," Shrek said, apparently glad that exchange was over.  
Then he took another ribbon and tied off the end of her ponytail.  
"There.  What d'ye think?"

Fiona reached back to feel the braided ponytail, and then held it up 
so that she could see it in the mirror.  Although Shrek had done a 
surprisingly good job considering that this was his first attempt 
and that his fingers were the size of small wine bottles, the braids 
were still larger and not as tight or even as Fiona made them.  In 
an odd way, however, that somehow worked with the tone of her new 
outfit.  Besides, Fiona felt inwardly grateful that there was still 
SOME sort of domestic task that she was better at than her husband.

"I think you did a fine job for your first time," she said honestly.  
Then she stood up from the chair and turned toward Shrek.  They 
smiled at each other for a moment, then Fiona placed her palms 
against his vest, leaned up, and kissed his lips.  "Thank you, 
again" she said.

Shrek gently took her hands from his chest and tenderly cupped them 
in his.  He then bowed down and kissed her left hand -- specifically 
the area around her wedding ring -- and said, "Glad to be of 
service, Your Highness."

Fiona offered another smile, but it was somewhat troubled.  She had 
one more thing she had to ask, and she was not only reluctant to 
have to do so, especially now, she was somehow afraid to learn 
whatever the answer might be.

"What's wrong?" Shrek asked, his brow knitting in concern.

"Shrek ... since you promised no more secrets ... please tell me 
what's REALLY bothering Moyre about me."

"Well ... ye know how mother-in-laws can be --" Shrek began 
uncomfortably.

"No!" Fiona interrupted.  "There's something else.  I sense it.  
Something ... more ... than that OR my simply having been human.  
Isn't there?"

Shrek sighed.  He looked down, avoiding her piercing eyes, and 
stared instead at her hand that he still held in his, and tenderly 
ran a finger along the wedding ring's 'I Love You' inscription.

"Shrek ... you promised ..."

"Alright," he finally said, suddenly looking up at her with 
resolution.  "All right.  I'll tell ye.  But ... let's wait until 
after dinner.  Later tonight.  When we're alone and ... I've had 
time t'think."

"Shrek ...don't you think it would be better BEFORE we go out there 
if --"

"No," he said, "I ... well, frankly I have to think about HOW t'tell 
ye.  I'm sorry, Fi, but ... well, that's the best I can do for now.  
Really.  But I WILL tell ye.  I promise."

Fiona looked at him skeptically for a few moments, then decided to 
take his word.   "All right," she agreed reluctantly, and offered a 
small smile, "but don't think I'll forget!"

"I'm sure ye won't," he said, offering a wan smile himself.

"Well," Fiona said, taking a deep sigh and looking toward the 
bedroom door.  "I suppose it's time for the family dinner.  I'll ... 
try not to disappoint you."

"YOU?  Disappoint ME?" Shrek chuckled.  "With all the fantasies 
we've encountered, Fiona, that really IS the most absurd thing I've 
heard in m'life."

"Thank you," Fiona said yet again, smiling genuinely now.

Shrek returned it as he released her hands.  Then he bowed, offered 
his left arm, and said, "Princess?"

Fiona giggled, then she curtseyed, said, "My prince," and took the 
proffered arm with her right hand, cupping it along the inside crook 
of his elbow.

The two made their way to the bedroom door.  They paused for a 
moment before opening it.

"Well," Fiona said, looking up at Shrek, "this is it."

Shrek caught the allusion to her words just before they had met 
Fiona's parents for the first time, and he said as reassuringly as 
he could, "It's not gonna be that bad, Fiona."

Fiona gave a brief, mirthless chuckle, and said, "Fortunately, I'm 
not going to make you promise THAT.  Oh, well.  I guess I'm as 
prepared as I'll ever be."

She reached out, turned the knob and pulled the door open.   Groyl, 
Moyre, and Donkey were all already seated at the dinner table, Groyl 
at one end and Moyre at one side, with Donkey on the side opposite 
her.  Donkey was apparently keeping the in-laws entertained in the 
homeowners' absence by recounting a story.

It was quickly obvious WHAT story Donkey was in the midst of 
recounting.  "... 'Every night I become this,' she says.  'This 
horrible, ugly beast!'  An' then she whacks her reflection in the 
water so hard that, man, I bet half the windmill got soaked!"

"Did she, really?" Moyre asked, shaking her head.

"Oh, good grief," Fiona moaned, reaching up and pinching the bridge 
of her nose with the hand not clutching Shrek's arm.

"Uhhh ... hi, everybody!" Shrek said, trying to sound enthusiastic.  
"Sorry it look us a wee bit longer t'get ready than we thought."  
Fiona dropped the hand from her face and also forced a smile.

"Well, Fiona, that's a very fine outfit!" Groyl said.  Then to his 
wife, "Don't you think so, Moyre?"

"Not bad.  Not bad, at all," she allowed, looking Fiona up and down.  
Then she shifted her gaze to Shrek, looked him up and down as well, 
and added, "Although a little ... derivative."

Then Donkey spoke up, saying, "Wow, princess, those really ARE 
snazzy new threads!  Almost as nice as the ones you were wearing 
when I got here!  But ... what took so long?  Man, it seemed like 
you two were in there forev--"  Then he checked himself, blushed, 
and said, "Oh.  Maybe I shouldn't ask."

"I was just CHANGING, Donkey," Fiona said, blushing somewhat 
herself.

"Again?!" Moyre said.  "But ... you still look like an ogress to 
me."

Fiona stared at Moyre's deadpan expression, and had an odd feeling 
that once again she'd been slighted.  But then Groyl began to 
chuckle.  And after a moment Donkey, who had at first reacted to 
Moyre's comment with a dumbfounded stare, said, "Oh!  'Changing'!  I 
get it!" and then he began laughing, too.

Fiona looked up at Shrek, who was observing the trio at the table 
with suspicious eyes as well.  "I ... think maybe it really WAS just 
a joke," he whispered.

"Of COURSE it was just a joke, Son.  Don't be silly.," Moyre said.  
She then looked at Fiona with her sharp eyes and smiled a smile that 
revealed most of her large, yellowed, uneven teeth and said, 
"Please, dear.  Have a seat and let's get started on what I'm sure 
is a wonderful stew that you've prepared for us."