Disclaimer: Fiona is a Shrek character. I imagine Dreamworks owns her. This story's just for fun, mmmkay?

Please R/R! ^.~

Eye of the Beholder

by Ritsuko AKA Sakura Megami

There is always something so magnificent about the sunset, with its pinks and yellows, oranges and light blues, slowly fading into the natural beauty of its lush indigo expanses across the night time sky, the moon it's only light, and a constant reminder that morning shall reign again.

As magnificent and awe inspiring as it is, I've never had much of a chance to enjoy it. Just as the day changes into night, I change too. But into an unnatural mockery of myself. When I was younger, I'd curl up in a corner and squeeze my eyes shut, just before the last rays of sunlight left the earth, and cross all of my fingers and toes that just this one time, I would stay myself. That the change wouldn't come.

And everytime, I'd feel it come over me, those last rays of light wash over me, and despite how good the warmth felt, I knew that all of my wishing and praying had amounted to nothing again. Always too stubborn, I'd keep my eyes squeezed tightly shut, and wait for the morning, when I could finally look at myself in a normal light.

Of course, I didn't always change. There is a reason behind everything, well, at least one can hope. I remember a castle, a white shining glory, where I lived with my parents, who ruled bountiful lands with a firm but kind hand. My father, the King, loved me dearly, always calling me his pet, and let me get away with whatever my childish heart desired. I was as spoiled as any sovereigns daughter, but by the time I was taken away, I wasn't as spoiled as I was headstrong and stubborn.

My father, however, was the braggart of the family. To everyone he knew that he actually cared of their opinion, it was always 'My Fiona sings like a dove', 'She's as beautiful as the Summer wildflowers on yon hill', and 'Her radiance outmatches every woman in this land, and she's only a child!' I knew I was beautiful, but all princesses are. So of course I was happy, becuase I knew that the more beautiful I was, the more handsome and good of a prince I would marry. That's what happened to every princess, right?

Well, father got around to bragging to the wrong people. Every birthday that I can remember with my parents was more resplendant than the last, and never thought twice on how exactly to pamper their daughter. I can remember royalty coming from leagues away just to get a glimpse of me, dozens of prospective husbands leering at me behind their fathers backs, and acting as un-princely as they possibly could. Of course, I was always on my best behavior. It was expected. But more often than nought, I'd tackle two or three of the little louts under the banquet table, and make them sorry for making such a perfect princess feel uncomfortable. I can see why we really never got any marriage proposals in my youth.

But on my eighth birthday, amidst all of the richly dressed courtesans in their garish tunics and gowns, there was one guest who did not fit in. I hadn't noticed her at first, being so plain and all, but as I made my way through extravagant and foreign gifts, lotions, and soaps, gowns, and jewelry, and every other thing a proper princess could want, I noticed her coming up the stairs to the throne. For a moment, I felt my father's hand grip my shoulder, but when I looked up into his eyes, they were merry, and showed nothing of what his grip foretold.

The woman looked quite plain. Hair cut short in a mousy brown bob, with rich eyes of the same color. All this brown seemed to be a running peasant theme, for it also matched her brown smock, and a smear of dirt that was splayed across her cheek. Halfway up the stair, she met my gaze, and even though she looked so tattered and worn, she could have been the most beautiful woman on the face of the planet. It was in her eyes. She smiled grimly at me, as I realized that no other person in the hall could see what I saw so freely. The nobles were muttering and whispering lewdly at the peasant woman, and a group in the corner suddenly burst into racaous laughter.

"Is there something we can help you with?" Came my father's booming voice, and the hall went silent, all eyes on the poor woman. Slowly, she drew a small parcel from a pocket.

"I have just come to give the princess a present in celebration of her birthday." She smiled crookedly, allowing a new spurt of giggles to erupt in the throne room. I heard someone say something to the tune of 'As if a peasant can give the princess a better present.'

Stiffening, the woman looked around the throne room, taking in her surroundings. "Tell me, little princess," She called. "Does it please you that some day, you will grow up to be just like these pompous, arrogant fools? Obsessed with finery and external beauty?"

Speechless, I stared at the woman. No one had ever spoken so in the court of my father. I could see he looked very irritated.

Without waiting for my response, she went on. "It saddens me that more and more, true beauty is forgotten in the place of riches. What will you do little princess, when your Prince Charming is actually a snake in the grass, whose only intentions of marrying you were for more possessions?"

Outraged cries muffled the hall, and there was a rush for the woman. Quickly, she threw her little parcel, and it landed right at my feet. With a great curiousity, I picked it up and started to unravel the linen that bound whatever was inside.

My father yelled, but I didn't seem to hear him. Had I looked around at the time, I would have realized a multitude of things. . . that the nobles had all seemed to freeze to their places, that the peasant woman was holding her hands up and muttering something under her breath, and that it was sunset.

Finally, I reached the end of the packaging, and opened it, only to scream in shock. A hideous green face stared back at me from a tiny mirror, and when I watched it shriek back, I realized it was me. It was only then that I heard what the woman was saying, as if the entire hall had gone mute.

'By night one way, by day another This shall be the norm Until you find true love's first kiss Then take love's true form. . .'

Suddenly, I felt my body contort. With a cry, I reached out to my father, but he edged away from me in terror. I could see why. My hand was green and three times larger. Sobbing like mad, I looked around for anyone to help me, but no one did, all I could see was a sea of repulsion.

The woman stood up and smiled defiantly. "What's the matter? Your little princess is still here after all. . . or do you not like her anymore just because she doesn't fit up to your standards?" She glared at everyone, leaving none from her scrutinizing gaze. "At least I've done her a favor. Now, only the man who truly loves her can change her. But I have a feeling that no one present here will ever live up to that. . ." she sadly clucked her tongue, and a broom appeared in her hand with a loud POP!

"Come now deary, let's take you where you belong. . ." the woman held out a gnarled hand to me, but I shrank away, groping for my father.

Then, unexpectedly, my father's own hand's pushed me into the witch's arms.

"Take her away, you vile creature." He cried hoarsely, and I stared back at him in horror. Grimly, the witch grabbed me, set me on the broom in front of her, and we took off into the blackening sky. Tears blurred my vison, and I lost all conscious thought knowing that the day would never come when a man would rescue me.

But the next morning, when I awoke, new and fresh and human, my heart skipped a beat, hoping that it was just temporary. Only every night, I changed back into the ogress, and every morning, was yet again, perfect. It's been so for ten long years. I haven't seen the witch since the night she did this all to me, but somehow, even in this abandoned castle, I still get food, and water, and books, and other things to pass my lonely time. I can never stray too far, due to the dragon, but all in all, what else could I do? If I lived outside, I'd be laughed at and mocked for being a freak. Real princesses don't turn ugly every night.

I sigh again, and stare down at my now green hands, the night fully blue-black. Someday, someone will come for me. And then I'll kiss him, and get all of this stupid curse over with.



So saaad!