"So, great, now I need to go fetch some kid before we can go home," Shrek paced in their bedroom, "Can't get any privacy! I just want t'sleep in a bed that feels like a bed, and no one can barge in. I don't think that's unreasonable."

Fiona sat on the side of said much too comfortable, uncomfortable, bed. A couple of nick-nacks still laid on the ground beside her feet from where Shrek had knocked them from the end table before. She stared blankly ahead of her, barely taking in the venting her husband was throwing upon her. She wasn't thinking about anything in particular, she wasn't sure she was even able to. Not that she wanted to either. Everything her brain landed on was red hot, dangerous. It was easier to stare into space - feel the nothing encompass her, she welcomed numbness.

"And what…" he threw his arms into the air, "I've gotta convince the kid t'be king. Nah, a kid'd love being king, right?" he glanced her way, she didn't react, "Ah I dunno what a kid would like… like I'd care," he sniggered, waving the thought off.

She took a deep breath through her nose, focusing harder on the nothing. He was threatening her thoughts to come back. Shrek had been sad, solemn, held her while she cried. They'd left the painful bedside eventually, moving from room to room, with their friends, and then they left, and then her mother left... left them alone. She grew numb while he grew agitated. Her husband wasn't a feeler of feelings. She tried not to be even though they bested her sometimes. They were both fighting it off in their own way.

"But yah, he's gotta do it. Cus… what even happens if he says no?" his rambled questions were rhetorical, "One remaining heir," he rolled his eyes, "there's gotta be more, there's-"

"Or you could be king," Fiona felt herself say the words rather than will it. She didn't particularly want to be a part of the one-way conversation, but he was wearing on her patience. It had been a long day, and not the long day she had been anticipating nor planning for.

He laughed, almost mockingly, "Aye, thas a funny joke. Did ya see today? A lifetime of that. The whole kingdom will collapse. People won't be able t'grab the pitchforks and torches fast enough."

She watched him blankly, "You'd get official training, you'd be fine."

"Wha- I- I don't want official training! Fiona, d'ya even hear yerself. I-" he tripped over his words in his shock about her statements, "D'ya even want t'be queen?"

"No," Fiona responded simply, truthfully, "Not really."

"Exactly!"

"But it's my duty," she explained, resuming her stare at the dresser.

"Duty?" he scoffed at the word, "Duty can go take a hike where the sun don't shine. I want t'go back t'our swamp, me and you, no one else. I want t'sleep soundly at night knowing I haven't got a ceremony the next day, I want t'wake up late and take an easy day. I told ye, I'm not cut out fer this, I-"

"It's not about you," Fiona interrupted again. Her voice low, quiet.

"Wha-"

She waited just a moment, to see if he didn't hear or was simply surprised by her continued contradiction. He stared at her, confused. "It's not about you," she repeated herself, louder. Her patience was worn out, completely. "It's my birthright. It's my decision."

"Well ya just said ye didn't want t'be queen!"

"It's not that simple."

"No no… It can be," his eyes were desperate. He advanced towards her. "I'll make sure of it. We can go back home just like ye want."

She shook her head at him, repeating herself, "No, it's not that simple." He began to wave her off, dismissing her argument. The anger rose within her, against her control, "If Arthur doesn't want to be king, then it's my decision," her voice grew louder with each word, "My decision to stay and be queen just like I've been taught I was going to be my whole life, or abandon the kingdom without a ruler and let my parents' efforts be thrown to the wayside because I would prefer to not be queen. I'm the princess, I was raised for this, I-"

"Well princess," his tone was laced with sarcasm, interrupting her, "if ya knew ye were gonna be queen, why didn't ya say anything t'me? Hm?"

She opened her mouth to respond but her voice caught in her throat. She felt the tears come flooding back, she blinked furiously. "I didn't want to," she mumbled. She clenched her jaw, closing up again.

"Ah, well that's convenient, huh. All this time I thought I knew ya didn't want this. Ye were helping ya parents out, whatever. As ye said, I married into this family. I'd get ma swamp back eventually. This was never supposed t'happen."

"No, my father wasn't supposed to die, I know," her firm words took the wind out of his argument.

A tear traced down her cheek, she looked down at the ground. She wanted to leave the room, escape to somewhere she could be alone. But even alone, there was no escape from this - she was stuck to the side of the bed, too conflicted to even stand. Her tried and true method of handling her problems and overwhelming emotions was to ignore them. Most of her problems over the years were imagined anyway. If she didn't think about it, it would go away, at least for a while anyway. There was no locking herself away to deal with this. Everything happening to her this time was real and permanent, it would follow her, no matter where she went, no matter where she hid, slowly getting worse. She sniffed, a few more tears escaping, she roughly wiped them away.

They were quiet for a moment. She could hear Shrek's agitation release, his frustrated shuffle, his guilty sigh.

"I know. He wasn't," his voice softened. It wasn't an apology - she wouldn't have accepted it anyhow, not in that moment - but it was a truce. She was sure they'd resume their fight, it wasn't near over. There was too much to argue about, too much to think about, he didn't even know all of it. Sorry wouldn't fix anything. They were both a scrambled mess. She wasn't sure how long it would be until they weren't.

"I'm going to bed," she announced the end of their interaction. She couldn't imagine she'd be sleeping.


. . .

Okay, let me criticise Third for a second: Everything seemed far too EASY. Like okay, Fiona was holding back the pregnancy secret for a moment, Shrek put his foot in his mouth, but that never escalated because Harold had the audacity to die in the middle of her telling him. (AND THEN SHREK IS JUST OKAY WITH PARENTHOOD AFTER SEEING A CYCLOPS AND HIS KID?). But with the kingdom… like of course Fiona would be eager to hear about another heir, but… she'd just give up the kingdom THAT easy? No discussion. She just let Shrek make that call for her? I don't believe it. They're both terrible communicators. There's secrets and fear and grief at play here. Of course there'd be conflict.