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After the fireworks have ended and everyone’s slowly made their way home for the evening Shrek turns towards Fiona.
“So,” he says eagerly, rocking back on his heels. “Are you ready to go?”
“Hmm?” She hums distracted.
He turns to look in the direction she’s been staring.
In the low light of the few remaining torches he spots a lone figure at the edge of the now empty stage.
Charming sits hunched in on himself turning his mother's business card slowly in his hand.
'Happiness is just a tear drop away'
He glances back at Fiona’s clouded expression and knows just what she’s thinking. "No," he warns pointing a frenzied finger at her. "Let your family take care of it."
"My father should be the one to deal with it, you're right," she bursts out starting to pace. "He meddled in both our lives in ways I still can't quiet believe, but he's in no shape for that right now."
He sighs coming to grasp her shoulders. "You don't have to feel guilt for his actions."
"You don’t understand," she says trying to explain. "We were set up for this as children. All our lives we were told this was how it was supposed to play out, and I'm so so glad it didn't," she says squeezing his hand. "I'm glad it was you who rescued me, I got my happily ever after, I just-"
"What?" He sputters. "Feel like we stole his?"
"I just feel bad. His whole world got turned upside down, and on top of everything else, he’s lost his mother too."
"And he was such a big momma's boy," he mutters.
"See?" She says looking pained. "He needs support."
He feels himself starting to lose the fight. "Are you really suggesting we take him back with us."
"It might do him good to get away for awhile."
"He's not like us, Fiona," he tries one more time. "Look at him."
"I can’t believe you of all people would say that," she says hotly, jamming her hands on her hips.
He groans not even believing what he’s about to say. "Fine."
She smiles beautifully throwing her arms around him.
"You want me to stay with you?" Charming says haltingly his blue eyes made luminous by the glow of nearby torches.
"Until you figure out what to do next." Fiona explains.
"Do?..." He mumbles dully clutching the Fairy godmother's card. "I’m a bloody orphan now!" He wails hiding his face in his hands. "What am
I going to do without mummy."
Shrek and Fiona glance at each other awkwardly.
Yeah, this was a great idea…
Charming’s room somehow feels eerily similar to Fiona’s, Shrek decides, right down to what he’s almost positive is a porcelain doll in the corner.
He snorts nudging Fiona and she smacks his arm.
"Not much changed since childhood, huh?" He asks noting the meticulous line of wooden soldiers on a shelf with a whole stable of hobby horses underneath.
"Mummy kept it all the same after I was sent away. Probably a few years before you were," he says glancing at Fiona.
Her brow furrow. "Sent away?"
He nods opening his closet. "Knight school. You’re not born knowing how to slay dragons and rescue princesses. Well," He scowls at Shrek, "some of us weren’t," he says stuffing clothes into a duffle.
Shrek rolls his eyes and leans against the bed post taking in the room. The sooner they get on the road the better.
The only good thing about Donkey not riding back with them is the silence. Normally Shrek would appreciate this. Prefer it really. But it just feels awkward now with a sullen Prince Charming scrunched into the corner of his seat opposite them.
Shrek glances at his pale face. The early morning light filters in through the window lighting the ends of his hair a brilliant gold. Shrek scowls. He’s only doing this for Fiona. He knows the guilt will eat at her far longer than it will take this spoiled pretty boy to decide the swamp's not good enough for him and go running back to Far Far Away. He leans back in his seat attempting to settle his mind with this thought.
The carriage starts to bump along in a familiar pattern and Shrek nearly sighs in relief. He was one judgmental glance away from booting Charming right out. He can’t help if he’s gassy and has to belch, and Fiona had already elbowed him sharply in the ribs for asking if his "highness" had a problem. But he’s hardly going to be made to feel uncomfortable on his own property.
They step from the carriage to the damp ground of the swamp, and though Shrek tries not to pay attention to Charming, he can’t help but notice the way his nose crinkles at the deep earthy sent. His shoulders tense as he eyes him. "Not to your liking then?"
Charming scowls up at him petulantly. "I didn’t say anything, ogre."
"It’s Shrek," he hisses leaning in closer.
"Gentlemen."
Charming's glare smoothes and Shrek's gnashed teeth straiten as they break away from their staring contest a bit shamefully.
"Why don’t you get the bags," she says pasting a cheery smile on.
Shrek sighs turning to pull their bags out.
"Hey," he says when he realizes Charming hasn’t followed suit. "I’m not your bag boy, princey," he says shoving his duffle at his chest, leaving him scrambling to get a hold of it before it hits the ground.
"It’s Charming."
"I’m sure." He mock curtsies.
Charming spins away haughtily only to stop short as a frog croaks and hops across the path in front of him. He rears back startled and bumps into Shrek.
"Do you mind?"
He’s still panting, hand over heart, when a rustling sounds from above and a flock of birds pass overhead.
He jumps grabbing at Shrek’s sleeve. "What was that?" He gasps.
"Birds," he says drily yanking his sleeve away. "You don’t get out much, do you?"
He shakes his head absently, pausing to look around with all the the wonder of a child at the sun light filtering through the leaves hanging high overhead. The dappled sunlight creates shadows that dance along his face, his bright eyes sparkling. "You must get every type of bird out hear," he remarks.
"I suppose." Shrek says slowly watching him turn in a circle to admire the view. He puffs his chest out a bit. The swamp does look rather magical at dusk, but let’s see how long the appreciation lasts.
"Where's Charming?" He bellows a few days later stomping into the house.
"What's your problem?" Fiona asks looking up from where she’s chopping vegetables for a stew.
"He's supposed to help me with the firewood," he reminds gesturing towards the fireplace. "Storm's coming and I could use an extra hand to make sure we're prepared."
"I think he went out bird watching again. Check around back, he never wanders very far."
He never wanders very far. Shrek huffs closing the door. Like she knows him so well. Well, maybe after the late night talks after one of his nightmares she does. Not that their talking bothers him per say, he knows there’s nothing between them, he just doesn’t like having his life disrupted.
He makes his way around the back, the smell of rain and honeysuckle in the air, and finds Charming taking up space on one of the lone stumps. A pair of binoculars rest beside him as he sits hunched scribbling into a leather bound book open on his lap.
"What are you doing?"
He jumps dropping the book on ground and Shrek reaches to pick it up.
"No," he says frantically waving a hand in an attempt to snatch it back.
"What’s this?" Shrek frowns turning the book right side up.
The inside is filled with drawings. Shrek turns the pages slowly each one filled with carefully sketched portraits of local birds, descriptions of markings, and sounds impeccably listed below in a fine, curling script.
"You’re cataloguing them?"
His face flushes. "They’re interesting is all, not that I expect you to understand," he sniffs holding his hand out for the book.
"Yes because ogres are so uncultured." He rolls his eyes passing it back. "At least I know the names of them."
His head snaps up at that. "How?"
"I have a book on them," he says shifting uncomfortably under the intensity of his eager gaze. "Ogres do read you know. Anyway," he says getting sidetracked. "Aren’t you forgetting something?"
He blinks at him. "No."
"Firewood," he draws irritably.
"Oh." His nose crinkles. "Right." He gathers his things up tucking them neatly back into his rucksack before forcing himself to stand with all the pomp and flair of someone headed for the gallows.
"Come on then." Shrek says leading the way. "I chop you stack, got it?" He asks glancing over his shoulder. "And try to keep up."
"I am," he grumbles nearly tripping on a sprawling vine.
"No, you’re trying to keep your boots from getting dirty." Because goodness forbid he have a speck of dirt on him.
They climb a little hill where Shrek has already been working on a felled tree.
Charming crosses his arms a pout on his lips. "Well?" He asks impatiently.
"Watch and learn."
Shrek picks a log up settling it just right before hefting the ax up in a mighty swing.
The log splits perfectly on the first swing.
Charming’s eyebrow raises and he lets out a low, "Wow."
Shrek turns away smug. Not that he cares what Charming thinks.
"Just stack them in that basket there. We’ll carry them in when this pile is finished."
He grumbles halfheartedly but moves to do as he says.
They work together in silence, save for the striking of the ax. Every now and then Charming will pause to watch the sky, the distant rumbling making frown lines appear on his brow. "Shouldn't we head in?"
"We have time," Shrek grunts. "Stop pouting up at the sky and keep stacking."
He mumbles under his breath but Shrek pays him no mind.
It's not until they're finishing up that the first streak of lightening cracks across the sky making Charming jump and drop the armful of logs he was carrying. It scatters tumbling down the little hill. "S’so we’re done now?" He straitens brushing his hands off and aims for an affable smile.
The sky chooses now to open, fat drops of rain falling hard.
Shrek huffs snatching up the empty basket with an angry glare and takes off down the slope in the rain. If those logs get soaked through they'll be completely useless.
He curses under his breath looking at where they all have rolled. Something hits his basket with a thump and he looks up startled to find Charming next to him helping to gather them up.
Fiona laughs when she sees them. "Hurry into some dry clothes supper’s almost ready."
He nods waving a hand grumpily and drops the remaining wood next to the fireplace before moving behind the curtained partition to the bedroom.
He hears Charming rustling around in his own curtained off area, past the end of their bed where his makeshift cot is setup.
“Thanks for helping Shrek out with the firewood.”
He hears Fiona say as Charming's quiet footfalls scuffle past.
His reply comes too soft for him to hear.
"At least you got a shower out of it," she jokes.
"My boots got dirty, Fiona," he complains.
"Put them by the fire." She chuckles. "They’ll dry."
Shrek comes out after that and they all gather around the little dining table.
It was a little strange having a prince at his table the first few nights, but they’re starting to adjust.
Well, he doesn’t give dirty looks when someone belches and Shrek’s stopped making fun of him for still insisting on having a finger bowl nearby.
Outside the wind picks up rattling the shutters.
"Do you mind?" Shrek asks exasperated at Charming’s fidgety spoon tapping. Secretly he's glad for the annoyance, anything to stop thinking about how he chose to stay and help earlier in spite of his obvious fear.
He mutters something under his breath and straitens, casting a wary glance towards the window.
He shouldn’t be surprised at his fearfulness; he seems to have a particular phobia around water. Aside from the makeshift bucket showers, he won’t step a foot into the clearer waters of the swamp. Which is why he'd been so surprised at him sticking around to help gather the fallen firewood.
"Just a storm," he mumbles grudgingly around a bite of stew.
The thunder rumbles and Charming drops his spoon.
"I wasn't very hungry anyway," he mutters pushing away from the table.
Fiona frowns watching him leave while Shrek stares resolutely at his bowl. He's certainly not going to beg him to eat.
They finish their dinner in silence, save for the occasional rumble of thunder overhead, and move over to the fireplace to relax awhile before bed.
Shrek opens one of his books trying hard to ignore the pouty prince sitting with his arms wrapped around his knees at the end of his bed flinching and whimpering every time the shutters rattle. He's certainly not going to offer him one of his books on birds, that would be too much like a kindness, a familiarity, and he doesn't need that.
He does however need him to stop being such a nuisance. "Come sit by the fire before you shake apart," he calls.
Charming frowns. Eventually he unfolds himself coming to plunk himself down at the foot of Shrek's chair.
"Are you sure the roof is secure?"
"Yes," he monotones without looking up from his book.
He keeps wringing his hands and knocking into his chair every few minutes until Shrek's finally had enough and lets out a heavy sigh resting a hand on his head. "Sit. Still."
Charming falls still letting his head rest against Shrek's knee. Much to his chargin.
At least he stopped whimpering.
Shrek stretches beneath the covers and tiredly rubs an eye, trying to pinpoint what woke him. From behind there comes a tapping on his shoulder.
"Are you sure this place is wind proof?" Charming whispers.
Shrek rolls over ready to holler at him for waking him from his already fitful sleep, but when he catches sight of him in the low fire light, his luminous eyes full of fear, something hard and long forgotten stirs deep in his chest, dare he think, pity?
"Oh for the love of-" he he mutters grasping at his slender wrist and tugging him down and over to the middle of the bed.
He wraps his large arm around his shivering frame.
"Now sleep."
Charming nods, silky hair brushing against Shrek's chin, golden strands smelling of honey suckle and rain.
Shrek settles back letting the warmth of his body lull him to sleep.
He dreads getting up in the morning and explaining to Fiona why he was in their bed. But when he wakes Fiona's still asleep next to him and Charming's gone.
"Getting an early start, are we?" He asks when he finds him washing up outside.
Charming’s whole body stiffens as he turns, water drips down his pale bare chest and Shrek freezes at the deep jagged scar still an angry red stretching out across his torso.
Without a thought Shrek finds himself reaching as if in a trance to brush a finger along the raised edge.
Charming flinches back sharply nearly tripping over a large rock before regaining his footing and snapping his tunic up. He yanks it on with an embarrassed flush continuing to back away. Edging towards the swamp, he collapses on a fallen log, his back held resolutely towards him.
"It stalked me along the ridge," he murmurs after the silence has stretched itself taut.
"What?"
"The dragon. A razor back," he says staring deep into a murky puddle by his foot. "When we were training for knighthood I was sent out to the foothills alone. It was only supposed to be a mountain dweller, but-" he wavers.
"A shadow fell overhead blocking the sun for an instant, then, it was on me. Do you know how they attack?"
Shrek shifts uncomfortably. He's heard the lore.
"They use one claw to pin their prey." Charming continues. "Then they target the abdomen in an attempt to disembowel." His breath starts to become thready. "I could feel the blood pooling around me, the sun growing dark."
Shrek swallows. He had know idea. No idea what he went through for just a chance at rescuing Fiona.
Charming plucks at a blade of grass. "There's a good chance I would have ended up another decaying relic lost to the tower had you not got there first." He huffs, a sardonic little grin twisting his features.
Something hard and uncomfortable lodges in his chest and he clenches his fist willing the familiar anger to take over instead. Why should he feel sorry for a handsome prince. "Tell Fiona I'm going foraging," he says taking a step back. He needs to move, get away from these feelings.
He stamps through the brush swatting away branches. Everything's so mixed up. Before, he could think of Charming as vain, spoiled, and obnoxious. And he's still some of those things. Just not all those things. Or only those things.
A squirrel darts out in front of him and he growls.
He had always viewed things in black and white. People were bad, his solitude and isolation at the swamp good. Then he met Fiona and Donkey and realized how lonely alone was and now there's more to Charming than he first realized and he doesn't know what to do with that.
He stamps past a foxhole and fallen limbs continuing his mindless trek. He pauses momentarily plucking some leaves. At least his day wasn't a whole waste. He looks around taking stock of where he's at and the color of the sky. He's walked further than he'd meant, all because of these stupid feelings.
Why should he feel bad anyway, that's the past now, so he's not going to pity him anymore.
Dusk is settling in by the time he makes it back.
He pushes inside and is brought up short by the sight of Charming curled up in bed with a bucket tucked up beside him.
"What's going on?"
"I think he was allergic to something in the porridge," Fiona says scowering the cupboards. "Did you get any mint leaves when you were out foraging?" She asks. "Maybe that will help the nausea."
He reaches into his pocket warily, as a matter of fact, he did.
He hands them to her before walking over to look down on Charming.
His eyes flutter open briefly, his gaze flittering across Shrek's face before closing.
why are humans so delicate.
Shrek presses his hand to the back of his flushed cheek.
"Here," Fiona says carrying a cup over. "Help him sit up."
He cuts his eyes towards Charming hesitating.
"Shrek."
He steps forward then, getting his hands under his underarms to lift his trembling form.
"Here, try a small sip."
Fiona cradles the cup bringing it to his lips, but he's no sooner managed a taste before he's lurching forward retching forcefully into the bucket.
Fiona pulls back with a gasp as Charming blubbers breathlessly, "Sorry."
Shrek swallows nervously before taking charge. "Perhaps let's just work on getting his fever down."
"You're right, you're right." She nods pulling the cup away. "He's nearly sweated through his tunic, help me get it off him and cool him down."
Charming looks up panicked at that and Shrek's stomach twists realizing he doesn't want her to know of his scars.
"I'll, I'll do that."
She looks at him strangely.
"That is," he falters, "it would be easier for me to help him out to the cool waters of the swamp than it would be for you, and someone has to change the bed linens." He smiles forcefully.
"Not the swamp." Charming moans as Shrek lifts him up.
"Hush," he chastises carrying him through the door. "You're burning up."
He takes him to the edge gently setting him on a large rock to peel his tunic off.
His hands tremble at another scar, like a puncture from the back talon, and one that wraps from his back to around his ribs.
He feels sudden anger on his behalf for his wounds. It should have been an army sent for a dragon, not a lone prince. He's mesmerized by the grisly flesh, gently he touches a finger against it feeling the way he shakes at the touch.
"Right," he coughs. "Let's, let's um." He lifts him again wading into the shallows.
Charming locks his legs around his middle, arms tight around his neck.
"See?" Shrek encourages. "It's not so bad."
He Jumps as a fish darts by. Intrigued he leans closer to watch.
"There now, see, nothing to be scared of."
Where is all this coming from, he wonders, he's certainly not the coddling type.
Charming rests his head on his shoulder letting his arms hang down, fingers lazily threading the water.
Shrek waits a few minutes before he starts to go lower into the water.
"No no no ." Charming straitens sharply, eyes wild.
"Hey," Shrek says firmly. "I got you." He keeps his eyes on his as he gently cups a handful of water letting it run down his fevered back. "Okay?"
Charming blinks at him, lip trembling, but nods.
"Good," he murmurs repeating the process a few more times, slowly sinking to one knee keeping him balanced on the other.
"Lean back for me."
"I, I can't," he stammers.
"C'mon now," he says stroking a hand through his disheveled locks. "We need to wash this pretty hair, eh?" He keeps a hand braced on him slowly leaning him back until the ends of his hair touch the water spreading out around him like a halo.
His wide eyes are still full of fear as Shrek rubs his scalp, shocked he's actually trusting him this much.
"All done," he says softly.
Charming sits up dripping water.
Shrek smoothes his hair back. "Good boy," he murmurs Impulsively kissing his cheek.
Charming dazedly rests his head against him. Shrek moves them back to the shallows after that, finding a spot where he can sit with Charming in his lap. They sit in silence watching the fish swim by. "Feeling any better?" He asks absently rubbing his stomach.
He hums resting his head back against him. "The water doesn't seem so bad now," he says hoarsely.
"How is he?"
He Startles at Fiona's approach and looks down at Charming having fallen asleep against him.
"Think the fever's gone down," he says.
"Thank goodness," she sighs. "I brought some towels if you're ready to come in?" She says watching him curiously.
"Yeah," he coughs, "I was just about to."
"Okay," she says taking a tentative step back. "I'll lay out some fresh night clothes. He'll have to borrow one of yours I'm afraid."
Shrek watches her head in before carefully standing and reaching for the towels.
He wraps one snug around Charming's shoulders and uses another to ruffle his damp hair. He murmurs blearily still trying to hang on to sleep.
"Rest," Shrek murmurs against his head, trying not to chuckle at the childish display.
He carries him inside laying him on their bed to finish drying his limbs before helping him into one of his nightshirts.
The thing practically swallows him whole, adding to his innocent air. He sighs looking at his already curling form.
Looks like another night with a little prince in his bed.