SPOILERS: Do not read if you haven't finished the anime.

Disclaimer: I do not own Princess Tutu.


Once upon a time there was a puppet. This puppet had grown tired of always being controlled by a puppeteer, and desired to be freed from her strings so she could choose her own destiny. One day the puppet liberated herself from her thread prison, earning the ability to control her own future. But was this really what the puppet wanted?

Goldkrone Town was a small town. The sort of town where everyone knew each other—or at least knew of each other—and everyone moved in set routines. Tucked away in an area not often frequented was a small forest, and in this forest was a small pond. Little did the citizens of Goldkrone Town know that this pond had a magical history: this pond was where a duck became a girl, and a girl became a hero. Now the pond acted as a prison to the once-heroine who was no longer a girl, but now a simple, lonely duck. A duck whose friends had all forgotten her. All of them, except one.

There was a young man who was quite a catch. Popular in his school days, and still today, throughout not just the Academy, but the town as well. He was an alumnus of the Goldkrone Academy Ballet Department, the adopted son of the town's blacksmith, a former knight who took up his pen to help save Goldkrone Town, and a young man whose dearest friend was no more than a duck.

Despite having this one impressively loyal friend who would visit her every day, the duck spent most of her time alone. The young man had a life outside of the pond and simply could not just shirk his duties to spend more time with a duck—regardless of how he very much so preferred her company over others'. The duck couldn't fathom how her friend kept his promise to stay by her side for so long when she was unable to communicate with him. Every second of every hour of every day the duck wished she could go back to being a girl. Even if she fell on her face with every step, or spilled every drink she ever held, or even if she could never dance again. The duck wished with all her heart to be human again.

The duck, whose name was Ahiru, had a happy existence as a girl. She had long poppy hair which she kept in a braid, a spray of caramel freckles across her cheeks, and big cornflower blue eyes. She, like her friend, Fakir, had been enrolled in Goldkrone Academy's Ballet Department, though, unlike Fakir, she was hardly the most talented dancer. She had been in the beginner's class, along with her best friends, Pique and Lilie, the most supportive friends anyone could ask for—even if it was hard to tell with Lilie. Often, she'd end up in the probationary classes due to her lack of skill. Sometimes, though, she'd get to watch the advanced classes, where Fakir; Rue, another friend of Ahiru's, as well as former one-sided adversary; and Mytho, the boy Ahiru used to pine after, had placed. They were skilled—some of the most skilled of any of the dancers Ahiru had ever seen.

Ahiru, herself, had been an amazing ballerina… in a way. Through the power of a pendant, a gift from a sadistic writer, Ahiru not only gained the ability to become a girl, but also the ability to become the prima ballerina, Princess Tutu. Princess Tutu was a magical heroine, a ballerina whose grace and love could move even the most stoic of hearts. Through the beauty of her dance, and her captivating demeanor, Princess Tutu eased the pain of wayward souls and brought peace to warring emotions. Princess Tutu gave Goldkrone Town and Prince Siegfried—the true identity of Mytho—back their hope.

Originally, Ahiru took on the role of Princess Tutu so she could see the prince's smile. She had seen him dance at her pond. He had been so empty. She wanted nothing more than to bring him happiness. And, true to her mantle, she fell for the prince. As she returned each piece of his heart, she hoped he would realize the feelings she was forbidden to speak, lest she turn into a speck of light. This love, however, was not what she thought it was. What Ahiru believed to be an amorous love, was truly his very own hope. The promise of a better future. The promise that good would win in the end. It was for this hope and the happiness of her dear friend, Rue, that Ahiru gave up her pendant and ability to become not just Princess Tutu, but also a human. Mytho and Rue got the happy ending they deserved and returned to his story. Pique and Lilie's memories of Ahiru were erased. In the end, Ahiru was left as a simple duck with nothing. Nothing except for her knight, her only friend.

"My, my, my, what is little duck doing out here all alone? And in such cold weather, no less!"

Ahiru's heart stopped at the painfully familiar voice. Its deep baritone rumbled in the air around her, chilling her to her very core. Hastily, she began paddling her feet, jerking her body around the best she could to look for the source.

"Such a lonely ending for my precious little duck—one I had never envisioned for my heroine, to be sure!"

She could feel the reverberation of his words in her bones. Surely, she had to be imagining it. The long-deceased writer who had once controlled Goldkrone Town had been defeated; he controlled the town no longer. How could she be hearing his voice?

"Sure, I had always envisioned you dying in the end, but isn't that so much better than this?" Two fiendish red eyes appeared in the dark, foggy sky above her. Despite the lack of any other facial features, the curve of the apparent shape indicated the malicious grin twisting his unseen lips.

"D-Drosselmeyer!" Ahiru gasped, startled by her of own, human, speaking voice. She looked down at her reflection in the lake. Still small, yellow, and feathery. "W-wha? I can talk…?"

"Haven't you always been able to talk?" Drosselmeyer dismissed her surprise. "Maybe you just haven't been listening to your own voice."

Ahiru shook her head, pushing her shock to the back of her mind, and turned her attention back to the eyes of her nemesis. "How are you here?!"

"How isn't the pertinent question here, but, rather, why." The eyes watched her for a moment, but her intense glare never wavered. He sighed. "No? Not gonna ask? … Well, fine. I'm here for you! To make you an offer."

Ahiru's feather ruffled at the very thought of doing anything with him again. "Forget it! I'd rather… rather…!" she wracked her brain for a satisfactorily unpleasant experience to compare working with him, "—I'd rather be a drowned duck!"

Thunderous laughter pealed throughout the area. "Well that certainly can be arranged if you'd like!"

Ahiru frowned at the apparition. "I have no interest in hearing anything you have to say."

"Oh? Does little duck have everything she needs? While the Prince and his Princess feast in their lavish castle, you're stuck here, all alone, in this dreary pond eating algae and grass. Forgotten to everyone who once cared for you."

"That's not true!"

"You aren't eating the algae?"

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she just shook her head. "No! I'm not alone! And I haven't been forgotten… not completely…"

Sensing an in, the red eyes lit up malevolently. "Haven't you, though? The Prince and Princess haven't come to visit you, have they? And your little friends—oh what were their names…? No matter—they don't even remember you ever existed, do they?"

Ahiru turned away from him, willing him to leave.

"And the useless knight! Well…"

She squeezed her eyes shut, reminding herself Drosselmeyer just wanted to press her buttons.

"For someone who promised to stay by your side forever, he sure spends precious little time with you!"

Ahiru spun angrily around to face him, "So?! He's busy! He can't spend all of his time here! And he spends what time he can! Fakir would never break a promise—and he isn't useless!"

"Doesn't it bother you? How everyone else has a happy ending, and are living their lives—except for you? The Prince chose the black swan and left you behind. The knight encouraged you to sacrifice your own desires for everyone else's. They got to go on while you had to give up your ability to become human, to dance; you gave up your friends, you gave up your happiness."

"No."

"You gave,"

"No!"

"and gave,"

"No!"

"and gave."

"Stop!"

"And they never. Gave. Back."

"Shut up!" Ahiru shrieked. The disembodied voice stopped, and the red eyes stared expectantly at her. "I didn't give anything up because they made me! I gave it up so the story would have a happy ending—I gave it up so we could defeat you!" She glared sadly at her reflection. "Those things weren't mine to begin with. I'm a duck, just a duck. Now leave me alone."

"Just a duck, hm? We shall see…"

A sudden shift in the atmosphere prompted Ahiru to look up. The hazy fog had lifted, and the crazed red eyes no longer hung in the air. It felt lighter. She frowned. Why was Drosselmeyer back? How was he back? Did he only come back to torment her?

"Ahiru, I've brought bread," the voice of Fakir beckoned the small fowl over to him, alerting her he had come for their daily visit.

Ahiru opened her beak, preparing to warn Fakir that Drosselmeyer was back, only to be rewarded with a series of loud quacks.

"What's wrong Ahiru?"

Ahiru sighed and offered a soft, defeated "qua." Quietly, she began pecking at the bread pieces Fakir had tossed out to her.

Fakir pensively watched Ahiru bob on the water as she ate her crumbs. It was getting colder, and soon he'd have to bring her inside. Charon hadn't been too big of a fan of him bringing a wild duck into the house. He had been forced to leave Ahiru in the stable with their horse, Lohengrin, during the winter. Naturally, he made her a little hideaway with warm blankets and gave her warm bread every day. On the coldest nights, he'd sneak her into his room so he wouldn't have to worry about her. She'd fall asleep sitting on his desk next to the book he was reading, and he'd watch her little feathery body expand and contract with her breath. Those night were the hardest. He'd remember all the times she'd fallen asleep at the library while he studied, and how she'd drowsily try to hide that she was drooling when she woke back up.

"Ahiru…"

Ahiru looked up at him, waiting for him to finish his thought.

"… Do you ever miss being a girl?"

"Qua?"

Fakir shook his head and leaned back on his elbows. "Why do I bother? I can't understand what you say no matter how hard I try…" Ahiru's heart stopped when those words were uttered and she stared at him, not daring to utter even the tiniest quack. "Sometimes I just wonder… why we never got—" He cut off with a heavy sigh. "Sorry, I'm speaking nonsense." He sat back up. "I can't stay long today, Charon wants my help at the smithy."

Ahiru quacked cautiously.

"I just wanted to make sure you had something to eat. Do you need anything?" Ahiru shook her head. "Alright, then. I should probably go." He looked back at the duck and gave a half smile, "I'll see you later, idiot."

Ahiru didn't even hear the last part as she watched Fakir's retreating back. He seemed different today… "Qua…"

"Well look at that!"

Ahiru glowered at the empty sky, waiting for the sinister specter to inevitably reappear.

A jeering chuckle thundered around her. "My, my, this is much more interesting than I had predicted!"

Wanting to take control of the conversation before Drosselmeyer could get a word in, Ahiru retorted, "He can't just abandon his responsibilities! So, yeah, sometimes he doesn't spend every minute of every day with me, but he's never missed a day! And even if he did, I know he'd make it up to me!"

Drosselmeyer's eyes reappeared, this time the rest of his face came with them. "Oh, but don't you see, little duck? The useless knight has fallen for the rejected princess! My worthless great-great-whatever-grandson is in love with you! How delightful!"

"You're wrong!" Ahiru didn't consider herself a violent person, but if she had the ability to punch the man, she would. He was always trying to find drama where it wasn't. "Fakir is just my friend—my only friend! And stop calling him worthless!"

"Oh my, and she can't even see it…"

Ahiru glared at him.

"No matter!" Drosselmeyer's face disappeared and reappeared behind her, a contemplative expression replacing the mirthful one. "Dear, dear, he certainly did look miserable, didn't he? Almost like he regrets something…"

"Fakir's… miserable?" Ahiru turned her head towards the direction Fakir had left in. He had seemed rather forlorn, and he had asked… if she… She shook her head. She couldn't let Drosselmeyer in.

"Hm, yes, yes, it's quite obvious. Poor boy." His eyes turned towards her. "Ah, but so are you, aren't you little duck?"

"Of course I'm miserable. I'm a duck, just a duck." She turned away from him, trying to ignore the bitter tears welling in her eyes.

The head nodded in mock sageness. "Yes, I suppose you are just a duck. Such a shame, really. If only there was some way we could turn you back into a girl…"

Ahiru started swimming away from him, trying to ignore the writer's words.

"Well… there's always… that…"

She stopped. She shouldn't, but… She looked at him over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

A grin twisted Drosselmeyer's face. "Piqued your interest, have I? I told you, I've come here to make you an offer… an offer of a lifetime."

Ahiru reluctantly turned fully towards him. "Go on." She knew better, but would it really hurt to hear him out?

"Ah, so you are interested." His grin widened. "Good. I'm offering you the chance to become Princess Tutu again. The chance to help those whose hearts are suffering—and, needless to say, the chance to become a girl again."

That certainly did catch her interest. The chance to be a girl again? Ahiru had been dreaming, wishing for that very opportunity. But she had been fooled by Drosselmeyer before. "What's the catch?"

"Catch? Why, I don't know what you mean!" He feigned offense.

"What's the catch?" She reasserted.

He sighed, "It's just a small price for what I'm offering you, truly. You'll not only turn into Princess Tutu again, but you'll never turn back into a duck."

"… never?"

Drosselmeyer's smile returned. "Never. Goodbye algae and snails, hello homecooked meals."

It was tempting. Too tempting. Never again would she be trapped in this feathered form and cursed with ungainly webbed feet. Never again would she be stuck in this pond, isolated from the rest of the world. Never again would she be unable to speak… "What's the catch?"

"In one year's time, you will die."

Ahiru sputtered. "Are you crazy?! Who would make that kind of deal?!"

"Come now, don't you want to see your loyal knight happy?"

"He said we should go back to being who we are!"

"And look how miserable he is! His princess is a duck who he can't even understand. He regrets his words, little duck, I guarantee it."

Ahiru shook her head. She shouldn't have heard him out. "No! This is stupid. All you want is to use me to hurt people! You won't fool me again!"

"Why, little duck! They're already hurting. All I'm asking is for you to help them."

"What?"

"Oh well, what does it matter? You're not interested." His visage began fading.

"Wait!" Ahiru called after him. She knew she shouldn't trust him—all her mental alarms were going off—but, how could she ignore the pain of others?

His image came back full force. "Oh? Are you interested?"

Pushing back her better judgement, she asked, "How are they hurting?"

"They have misplaced feelings they don't know what to do with. Restlessness, anger, jealousy, guilt… Many emotions plague the innocent citizens of fair Goldkrone Town, and they need Princess Tutu to free them."

Ahiru mulled over this. Were the people of Goldkrone Town really hurting? Did they really need Princess Tutu?

Drosselmeyer took advantage of her hesitation. "Accept my offer, help the townspeople, become a girl, never be lonely again."

She wanted so desperately to be a girl again. And… if there really were people who needed her help… She shook her head. "No. You can't be trusted."

"No matter what you choose, you will die, little duck. Would you rather die after one year of happiness, or would you rather die after years of misery and loneliness?"

Ahiru stared at the dock Fakir normally sat on when he visited her. She wasn't sure she could stand spending the rest of her life looking at that dock. Drosselmeyer was right: she was terribly lonely. Things had become monotonous, and worse, she had become miserable because of it. Would it be so bad? Would it be wrong for her to be selfish and chose happiness? She wanted so desperately to become a girl again, and she could spend that year helping others. It was worth it, to help others, wasn't it? She looked back at Drosselmeyer.

He smiled in a sinister anticipation. "Well?"

"I accept."

"Excellent!" He smirked as his eyes flashed in delight.

A flash of white temporarily blinded Ahiru, and when her eyes refocused, she found a white pendant was around her neck. Before she could even comprehend its significance or marvel at its pearlescent sheen, pain erupted in her body, forcing a soundless scream from her beak. Her limbs were stretching, and her feathers felt as if they were being ripped out all at once.

Booming laughter created ripples in the water, colliding with bubbles surfacing in the pond where a duck used to be.

"Let the tragedy begin."


Fakir sighed as he made his daily walk to the pond, the commute had gotten more and more depressing for him. Not being able to talk to Ahiru, watching her spend her days doing nothing but float… it was taking its toll on him. Lately he's been having nightmares Ahiru would begin regressing into a normal duck—unable to understand him, afraid of him. Sometimes he feared it was already happening, how could he know if she actually understood anything he said to her? His visits with her had become something he both loved and dreaded, and he loathed himself for it. Ahiru had nothing left, no one remembered her except for him. No one visited her except for him, and he spent no more than two hours a day with her. What a lonely life she lived, and yet he often let himself dwell in self-pity.

It was already December, and though it miraculously had not snowed yet, the temperature was rapidly dropping. The time for him to convince her to come inside had come, and he had brought her favorite blanket to try and tempt her. She didn't seem to enjoy being stuck in the stable all winter, but he had no other way to ensure her safety. At least Lohengrin didn't seem to mind her presence. He hoped she wouldn't give him too much of a fight this time.

"Ahiru!" Fakir shouted as he walked onto the dock. He frowned when no small feathered body approached him. "Ahiru?" In fact, there didn't seem be anything yellow anywhere near the pond. "AHIRU!" Fakir shouted again. Panic began taking hold of his mind. "Damn it!" Had a predator attacked her? Were his fears coming true and she had left in search of other water fowl? Or migrated to warmer regions?

A flash of yellow amongst the reeds on the far side of the pond drew his attention. Without a second thought, he dashed along the shoreline. As he drew nearer, he could make out the shape of the yellow object.

Fakir stopped dead in his tracks.

It was a shirt. A soaking wet shirt, clinging to the skin of a girl who was still halfway underwater. A girl with long poppy hair tied into a braid, a spray of freckles dusting her nose, and feather-like strands of hair that currently limply stuck to her face. A girl who was very much Ahiru, and very not breathing.

"Ahiru!" He pulled her freezing body from out of the reeds and water, and up onto the grass. He began shaking her shoulders. "Ahiru!" Nothing. He bit his lip and leaned over, trying to see if her chest was rising or if he could feel her breath on his cheek. Again, nothing. Sucking in a deep breath, he leaned down and tilted her head back while pinching her nose. He pressed his lips against hers and blew air into her, giving her two breaths. He then popped back up and began thrusting on her chest.

Following a cough, water spurted from the girl's mouth and she moaned. Fakir desperately waited for the girl to speak to him, to prove to him she wasn't a mirage, a dream he dreamt up to quell his guilt. "A…Ahiru?"

Cornflower blue eyes peeked up at him through thick, black eyelashes. "Fakir?" the voice was soft and hoarse, yet he could tell it had matured over the past two years.

The young man's eyes flickered happily, "Idiot! You scared me."

A small, tired smile stretched her lips. "Fakir? Scared? Doesn't sound real…" Her voice faded as she lost consciousness.

Fakir's fingers fell to her carotid artery, checking for her pulse. He sighed in relief when he felt her strong heartbeat beneath his fingertips, removing any doubt he had of her health. He took a second to study her face before retrieving the blanket he brought, wrapping her up, and scooping her small body into his arms. Whatever circumstance that had brought her back had been foolish—the midriff shirt and skirt she was wearing would do little to stave off the cold weather, and even less so soaking wet. He had to get her inside immediately.

"You're hopeless." Despite the words, a bright smile stretched across his lips as he rushed through the forest. He was thankful he lived so close to Ahiru's pond, the sooner he brought her inside, the better. And there was the added benefit of not having to deal with the prying stares and gossipy whispers of the nosy townsfolk.

"Fakir, you're back early. Dinner's not ready yet, but—" Charon, Fakir's adoptive father, cut off when he noticed the sopping wet young woman in his son's arms. "Is she alright?" Charon asked immediately, dropping what he was doing to check on the girl's health. His fingers pressed against the side of her throat, just as Fakir's had earlier, and his relief was visible upon feeling her heartbeat, though concern still marred his face. "She's freezing…"

"I think she's just unconscious… I don't-I don't know what happened." Fakir faded off as Charon gently yet forcefully led him to the bathroom.

"I'll draw a hot bath, you get her clothes off."

Fakir's face flushed as he looked down at the girl in his arms, "W-what?! Bu—"

Charon looked at his son in utter disapproval as he fiddled with the bath. "Fakir, she is soaking wet, shivering, caked in mud, and unconscious. We need to clean her off and get her warmed up. Don't be a child."

Feeling thoroughly chastised, Fakir just nodded in response. He didn't want to invade Ahiru's privacy, but his father was right. With a muted gulp, Fakir carefully set her down and began prying off her dripping clothes, trying his best not to look at her.

"You can leave her underwear on, if you're so uncomfortable," Charon suggested. "Just get her in the bath. I'll go find some towels and blankets. Make sure her head doesn't go underwater while you clean her."

Thankful he didn't have to completely strip her down, Fakir lifted her back up and gently set her in the warm water Charon had filled the tub with. Already mud, algae, and blades of grass began floating to the surface of the water. He paused, noticing for the first time, the almost glowing white pendant around her neck.

"What happened, Ahiru?" Fakir wondered aloud as he began rubbing dirt from her skin with a soaped wash cloth. Her skin was paler than it was before, he mused. Her skin wasn't the only thing that had changed in the past couple years. She was a little taller, her hips a little wider, her chest slightly fuller. The freckles that once covered her cheeks and nose seemed to have become less prevalent. As he began undoing the mess of a mud-caked braid, he noticed her hair had also gotten longer.

When it became clear the water was too dirty to work with anymore, he drained the tub and used the washcloth to clear out as much of the grime left over as he could. Once he was satisfied with his job, tossed the washcloth on top of her dirty clothes and began rinsing her body and hair off with a few buckets of warm water, clearing away whatever grime had stuck to her.

Charon walked in with two large towels. "Here," he said, handing one to him, "dry her off with this."

Fakir nodded, awkwardly trying to both pick her up and wrap her in the towel. With Charon's help he was able to dry off her skin and wring most of the water out of her hair. Charon took the towel from him and gave him the other one to wrap her in.

"We'll keep her by the fire until she dries off," Charon said, walking back toward the kitchen.

Fakir set Ahiru down in front of the fire, placing her head on the pillow Charon had set out for her. Charon draped a blanket over her half-covered body. "She looks awfully familiar… A friend of yours?"

Fakir stood before nodding at him. "Yeah. She's an old friend of mine. She used to come over here a lot a couple of years ago."

The blacksmith's eyebrow furrowed. "Oh? I don't seem to remember her… What happened to her, anyway?"

"She—" Fakir paused. What did happen? He had no clue. Why was Ahiru suddenly human again? "—I don't know. I just found her in the pond." He opted to tell the truth.

Charon nodded gravely and glanced down at the svelte girl. "Why don't you keep an eye on her and finish cooking dinner while I take Lohengrin to get the doctor. Hopefully she'll wake up soon, but I don't want to take any chances."

Fakir nodded while Charon left. Moments later, the sounds of the family horse's hooves on the cobblestone indicated he was off. Fakir inattentively stirred the pot of food Charon was making for dinner, his eyes never leaving the sleeping form of his little duck.


"Would you rather die after having one year of happiness, or would you rather die after years of misery and desolation?"

"I don't want to give up being Princess Tutu… I don't want the story to end."

"It's not so bad, going back to being a duck. After all, that's what you are: a duck."

"And look how miserable he is! His princess is a duck who he can't even understand. He regrets his words, little duck, I guarantee it."

"In one year's time, you will die."

"Come little Ahiru, it is time you make this tragedy a masterpiece."

Ahiru bolted up, her eyes wide in fear. "Wh-what?!" she looked down in surprise when she heard a human voice instead of a raspy quack.

"Ahiru? You're awake!" a deep voice exclaimed from beside her.

Ahiru turned to the owner of the voice, recognizing it immediately. "Fakir!" She launched herself at him excitedly. Her body was wrapped tightly in blankets, making her fall over and taking him with her, but she didn't seem to mind much as she clutched his middle. "It wasn't a dream! I'm human again!"

Fakir was thankful he had the patience to put Ahiru's clothes back on her after Charon had washed and dried them. Had he left her in just her underwear he wasn't sure he would recover from the embarrassment. She was, however, fully clothed, and despite her long hair chaotically fanned out across his and her bodies, he returned the hug thankfully. Not too long ago he was convinced he would never see her as a girl again.

Ahiru pulled back from him, focused on braiding her untamed mane—his hug alerting her to its unkempt state. As she did so, she seemed to forget she was currently sitting atop of Fakir's legs. He moved one of his legs to try and draw her attention to that fact. With a squeak, she tried to get off of him, only succeeding in tripping over the blanket she was still bundled in. Fakir couldn't help but laugh when she toppled over onto the ground beside him with a dull thud.

"You didn't change at all, did you?"

Freckled cheeks puffed at the statement, "I have too, Fakir! I'm two years older, thank you! Lookit!" Ahiru jumped up, this time taking the time to untangle herself from the blankets, "See? I'm, er… well, I'm uh… taller." she placed her hand atop her head and showed him that she nearly reached his shoulders now.

Fakir couldn't help but smile at Ahiru's attempts to prove she had grown up since the last time she stood as a human. He blushed slightly, she had changed—he would never tell her that he had noticed, though, like when he was bathing her a few days prior...

"Fakir? What's wrong? You look like you're overheating." Ahiru pressed her lips together as she reached up to feel his forehead.

"I'm fine!" he asserted before her hand reached its destination. He sighed and gave her a small smile. "I'm just glad to see you again, to hear you again." He wanted to just leave it at that, she was a girl now and she could reclaim her life and they could get the happy endings they were denied, but he just couldn't. "How? What happened?"

Light blue eyes peered up at him with a slightly clouded gaze. 'Did Drosselmeyer really come back? Did I really make a deal with him? I can't tell Fakir, he'd be furious with me! I don't even know if it really happened.' "I… don't know…" she diverted her gaze to the window, "I was on the pond and there was a bright light and I felt like my body was stretching—it hurt so much. Then coldness engulfed me and everything went black."

Fakir studied her profile for a second before adding, "And the pendant?"

The former duck blinked and looked down at her chest where the pearlescent gem hung from a simple black cord, similarly to her last pendant. "I… er…" she peeked up at him through her bangs and bit her lip before shaking her head, "I don't…"

Fakir grunted before turning away from her. "Come on, you're probably hungry."

Ahiru mentally sighed and cursed herself for not telling Fakir, but it was better he didn't know, especially if she had made a deal with Drosselmeyer. She followed Fakir, the suggestion of food enticing her stomach. As he led her down the hallway, Ahiru reached down and fingered the stone around her neck in wonder. 'Be Princess Tutu once again, huh? What would be my purpose then? The Prince no longer needs his heart put back together…?'

"Watch where you're going," Fakir absentmindedly commanded when Ahiru ran into his back. "I don't need you walking into things."

"Sorry Fakir!" she dropped her pendant quickly and scratched the back of her head. Fakir pulled a chair out and indicated for her to sit. When she did so, he walked over to the oven and began reheating some leftovers.

"Charon's been making extra of every meal since I brought you back from the pond," he admitted while he worked.

"How long was I out?" Ahiru asked in surprise, it felt like only hours ago those macabre eyes stared at her on the pond.

"About a week."

Ahiru's eyes widened. "What?!"

"We had a doctor look at you the first night, but he said nothing seemed to be wrong with you."

Ahiru gripped the hem of her white skirt. Clearly she had imposed on him and Charon a great deal. She looked at Fakir's back. "Where is Charon?"

"He's at the shop. He won't be back until closing time." Fakir glanced back at her.

"So… how have things been going?" Ahiru absently toyed with the fabric in her hands.

Fakir smiled slightly as he shook his head and set a plate in front of her, "Please, nothing has changed since the last time we talked."

"That was two years ago." She grabbed the fork that was beside the plate and began digging into the mass of food before her.

Forest green eyes softened as he stared heavily at her, regretting making that comment. "I—"

"Oh wow! This tastes amazing, Fakir!"

'Got out of that one I guess.' Fakir half laughed at the rambunctious girl as she tore into the food.

"This is the best meal I've had in years!" Ahiru stuffed her mouth full, making it hard for her to chew, but somehow she got through it. Fakir shook his head and tried to stop himself from laughing at the spectacle she made of herself, knowing she'd get mad at him. Honestly though, she made it too easy. While she shoved another carrot into her mouth his eyes fell down to the ivory stone that hung from her neck. He knew it was the key to the mystery to her sudden humanity. "We should really look into that pendant. What if it's Drosselmeyer again? Or something worse?"

Ahiru stopped eating, her appetite suddenly dissipating. "But, we defeated him. And you destroyed the machine. I saw it with my own two eyes. How could he come back?" she avoided his gaze. But, she had asked the question sincerely: Just how would—could Drosselmeyer come back to make a deal with her after they had defeated him?

"Anything is possible with that man. Are you sure you didn't see him at all?"

Ahiru glared at him, "Are you calling me a liar?" She mentally cursed herself, 'Well, he should be, dummy!' If it was true and she did make that deal with Drosselmeyer, she couldn't let Fakir find out. She didn't want to bring him into it.

Fakir groaned in frustration, "No. Just… forget it. I need to go to the library, just… make yourself at home." He stood up and walked towards the door. He looked over his shoulder before walking out and added, "Oh, and, don't break anything."

Ahiru huffed, "Yeah, I missed you too!" she added in a mumble, "Jerk." She had upset him, and she knew it. All she could do was hope he wouldn't figure out she was keeping something from him. Her blue eyes scanned the room before she got up and began exploring Fakir's house. The previous times she had been here she never actually got to look around. She only saw the kitchen-dining room and the hall. "Oh! Those are…" Ahiru felt a smile stretch across her lips when she saw a portrait of a much younger Fakir. "Aww…"

Thip. Thip.

"Oh!" Ahiru gasped and looked down at the floor. Two small, dark splashes were on the floor.

Thip. Thip. Thip.

The spots grew bigger. "What…?" Ahiru lightly touched her cheeks, only to find them wet. "Am I… crying?" The tears had come unbidden and were now uncontrollably falling from her eyes. "Why can't I stop?" She looked back up at the picture of Fakir as a young child.

'I only have a year left with him. I don't want to spend it fighting…' The tears fell with increasing rapidity. "I'm sorry Fakir! I-I… I hate lying to you so much! I'm sorry for betraying you." Ahiru turned her back from the picture and slid down the wall where she cradled her head between her knees as she sobbed.

"That's right, little duck. Sink into despair!"

Ahiru's head shot up. "Drosselmeyer?!" He didn't respond. It seemed it might not have been a dream, after all. She shook her head. "I have to be strong! I'm going to live this year to fullest and make Fakir proud of me!" She reached down and wiped her eyes off with the flowy fabric of her skirt before she pushed herself off of the ground. "I'll prove my worth to him!"


Charon stretched his arms above his head and kicked his shoes off at the door. "Oh. Fakir must have cleaned up some…" The floors had been swept and the furniture seemed to be dusted.

"O-Oh! I'm sorry, sir!" a soft voice stammered, "I had nothing else to do really, and I uh… wanted to thank you for your hospitality… So I thought that—"

Charon grinned widely when he realized their invalid had awoken, "Ah, I see you have awoken! Ahiru, is it? Fakir never told me your name, but I heard him mumble it a time or two."

Ahiru nodded, brushing some of her salmon strands of hair out of her face, "Yes, sir."

"Please, call me Charon!" he lightly placed his hand between her shoulders and led her to the living room, motioning for her to sit down, "As much as I appreciate the gesture, you don't have to clean the house. You just woke up after nearly drowning—at least that's what I gather—and you should be resting!" the blacksmith gently took the cleaning rag from her and tossed it in the laundry. "Now, where is that troublesome son of mine? He should have been here to make sure you were alright when you woke up."

"Oh, he was! He left a couple of hours ago, though."

Charon shook his head in exasperation, "That boy!" He sat down on the chair across from Ahiru. "I hope he didn't offend you in any way, he can be rude when he doesn't mean to. He was very worried about you, hardly left your bedside! I don't think I've ever seen him so concerned before in my life."

Ahiru smiled warmly at the thought of Fakir worrying over her. "It's alright," she assured him, "Fakir wasn't too rude, he was just going to check on something at the library."

Charon's eyes beamed. "That boy and his books; he has writing in his blood. One of his ancestors was a great author, I've heard."

The duck barely stifled the ironic laugh that bubbled in her throat, and instead focused on the topic of Fakir. "He would make an excellent writer… I wish he would write more."

"Ah, perhaps that will never happen. Ever since the accident…" he faded off and then shook his head. "Oh, never mind that. How in heaven's name did you end up in that pond, young lady?! And in those clothes in such cold weather! I know winter solstice hasn't hit yet, but it may as well be winter! Are you trying to get pneumonia?!"

"Uh, well!" Ahiru's eyes grew wide in surprise, and she glanced around nervously. Saying she lived there because she was a duck was probably not the best route, but she wasn't sure what else to say. "See, uhm, heh, I was, well, I like water, so… and I was… erm, well, you know. And—" Ahiru had never been so thankful to suddenly hear a door close. A small scuffle in the hallway followed before…

"Ahiru, did you—" Fakir stopped when he saw his father sitting across from the her. "Oh, Charon. You're home early."

Charon's eyebrows rose. "And I see you're finally home. This poor girl was left to take care of herself."

Fakir averted his gaze. He never dealt with his father's disappointment very well. "I apologize. There was something urgent I needed to look into."

The blacksmith looked at him skeptically, "I don't get you sometimes, boy. You spent that whole time worrying your mind out over this here girl and then—"

Ahiru stopped him, "Don't be mad at him, please. It was my fault, really," she scratched the back of her head. "He was looking into something for me." She wasn't lying, she knew what he was at the library for: to try and figure out why she was human again.

Charon sighed, "Well, that still doesn't make it right. Alright, well, I guess I'll get on to making dinner." He stood and glanced at Ahiru. "And Fakir? Maybe lend her some clean, warm clothes, she's been sleeping in those for a few days, and it's cold out."

Fakir nodded in consent, not wanting to further upset him.

Before going about making dinner he added, "And don't do anything untoward to her while you're upstairs, Fakir."

"Ch-Charon!" His face flushed a striking red.

A rolling chuckle trailed behind the aged man as he walked into the kitchen.

"Hmph. Well, come on," Fakir grunted and led Ahiru back to his bedroom.

Ahiru watched as Fakir rustled through his drawers for some smaller clothing that would fit her better. "Thank you Fakir."

Fakir stopped and looked up at her, "What for?"

"For rescuing me." Ahiru smiled at him.

He snorted and went back to what he was doing, "Stop being sentimental, idiot."

Ahiru's smile widened and she looked around the room, it was obviously Fakir's: a writing desk was in the corner, books piled on top of it, the head of a small desk light barely visible behind the pile, everything was neat and orderly. Not to mention his dresser was in there…

"Oh, Fakir! Where have you been sleeping? Isn't this the room I was in?"

Fakir could feel the concern seeping from her. "I slept on the couch."

Her delicate brow furrowed, "But this is your room, I should've slept on the couch!"

Fakir dropped an old dark blue shirt into her hands along with a pair of black pants. "Don't worry over it. You were sick, we weren't about to dump you on the couch."

Ahiru stared up at him with a soft smile, "Thank y—"

"Just get changed, will you?" Fakir left the room, shutting the door behind him—which didn't do much to muffle the "idiot" he muttered.

"Hey, I heard you, jerk!" Ahiru shot at him. "I swear…" She mumbled as she stepped out of her skirt and underwear. She stopped to stare at the yellow panties she had just taken off. "Oh." Of course. Undergarments. She only had one set, and those were the ones she was wearing. She did not want Fakir washing those for and her and definitely did not want to wear his clothes without panties on. "Great…"

Hearing her lamentation, Fakir called through the door, "You alright in there?"

"Fine!" She glared at the yellow cloth, "You win this round." She pulled them back into place with resolution before slipping on the pants. They were big enough she had to borrow a belt and cinch it tight to keep them up. Finally, she discarded her shirt and pulled the navy one Fakir gave her over her head.

Click.

Fakir looked up when the door opened. Ahiru came out dressed in his clothes from a handful of years ago, yet she still swam in them. However, the one thing that really drew his eye was that snow white pendant of hers; it seemed to give off an ethereal glow when outlined in dark colors.

"Here," she stuck out her hands which held her haphazardly folded clothes, "I, uh—"

"Dinner's done," Charon's voice boomed from downstairs.

Fakir took her clothes and turned away from her. 'I've got to figure out where that pendant came from.'


Ahiru's eyes fluttered open, only to snap back shut when streams of bright light fell into them. "Mmh…" She forced herself to sit up and went for the window. "Oh." It was a surprise to her, really. She opened the window, yet she wasn't mobbed by a flock of birds. With a slight feeling of longing, Ahiru closed the window again and went to get dressed when some yellow cloth caught her eye.

On the dresser her shirt and skirt were neatly folded and placed. Ahiru smiled and changed into them before heading downstairs.

A deep voice greeted her at the bottom of the stairs, "I see you're finally awake."

"Oh, Fakir! Thank you for washing my—"

He interrupted her, "I'm going to the library, and you're coming with me."

Excitement filled her eyes, "Autor's still working there, right? I haven't seen him in a long time."

Fakir groaned and handed her a piece of toast and an oversized pale-blue coat. "Yes, put this on."

"What's this?"

"A coat."

Ahiru made a face at him. "I know it's a coat. But…"

Fakir shrugged his own coat on. "Charon was worried about you going anywhere without a coat, so he got one for you."

"He didn't have to…" Ahiru's heart grew at the kindness and consideration Charon showed her.

"Trying to stop him when he has his mind set on something is nigh impossible, besides, he's right. It's cold out."

Ahiru smiled as she shoved the toast in her mouth and put the coat on. The lining was fuzzy and soft, and pleasantly warm.

"Now, come on." Fakir held the door open for her as they left, and she took her toast out of her mouth to thank him before eating the rest.

Sunshine seemed to flow from Ahiru as they walked through town: waving at people she used to know, greeting those she didn't, inspecting every same and different detail of the town. Everything was so special to her and made her happy; Fakir himself couldn't help but smile when he was with her.

"Fakir, look! The florist has a new species of flower out! Oh, and the baker is selling some specialty loaves! Wow! Everything's so beautiful!"

Fakir laughed, "Ahiru, you're scaring everyone."

"Oh!" she stopped flitting from store to store and stand to stand. "I didn't mean to. Sorry everyone!"

He rolled his eyes and turned into the library. "Come on now, I don't need you making a scene."

Rows of books greeted them and Fakir quickly went to work, looking through shelves with a memorized ease. Every once in a while he would pull a book out and set it on a table in the corner of the room. Ahiru looked around warily; it was a waste for her to be here. She already knew why she was human.

'No, it's not a waste. I get to spend it with Fakir.' She glanced through the titles and bit her lip. She definitely didn't want him figuring out why she was human. The look her would give her… she wasn't sure if she could ever face his disappointment. Was the answer even in a book?

"Can I help you?" a strange voice asked from behind her.

"Oh, Autor!" Ahiru grinned at him, "It's been a while!"

Autor pushed his glasses up. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

Ahiru's cheeks flushed in embarrassment and she looked down. 'I guess he forgot who I was, too.' She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I, uh… I'm a friend of Fakir's. I'm here with him. He told me about you…"

"Oh, I see," Autor looked at her oddly and his eyes flashed with deep emotion. "And what is Fakir here for?"

"He's… uh… researching something. Drosselmeyer, I think."

Autor groaned, "That again… Very well, just keep it down." With that, he disappeared behind the row of bookcases.

"Oh!" Ahiru glanced down at the stone around her neck. It was brightly glowing, and a sense of warmth engulfed her. "Autor has…?" She glanced towards Fakir, who was studiously pouring himself over the books he had collected, before following after Autor.