There were no nice or bad dreams to him anymore. There weren't any dreams he wouldn't want to wake from these days, nor were there any nightmares that made him shudder from fear. For Fakir, there were only the dreams about her left.

Whenever he closed his eyes in the night, he didn't know whether he should fear his plagued sleep, or rather look forward to it. After a few weeks, he had decided on simply baring it the way it was.

As he put away the sheets he had been writing a story on throughout the last days, his gaze wandered to the window, through which he could see the sparkling stars in the sky. He had learned not to try and put a description of the deepest of all blues of the night sky into any of his stories. The cunning depths lying there, so very far out of reach, were not to be described with a few brief words. It would have taken him a few books to even get the faintest bit of a truthful description.

With an immense effort, he managed to get off the chair. Slowly and silently, he opened the wooden window to let the cool air flow in. Summer was almost gone by now, and the nights had gotten cooler again. He took a deep breath, three or four times, and went to wash his hands. They were all black from the dark ink he had used from the start; since his first story, he had always used the same kind of ink. And ever since, it had painted his fingers black.

When his skin had gotten back its natural colour, he started undressing in the bathroom. He took off all his clothes in fluent movements, and he was about to put on his pyjama, when his eyes fell on the reflection in the little bathroom mirror. All he could see was the scar on his shoulder, the huge scar. It made his heart bounce, thinking about where he had gotten it from, but he only stopped for the briefest of seconds. Almost hurried, he put on his shirt and, already half asleep, he let himself fall onto his bed. He put the cover over his body, and then slowly turned his head to have a look at the window. He had good reason not to close it tonight.

The reason was his loneliness.

The early evening, she had left, and, ever since, he wondered where she was. She had left through the open door, silently, and he had only realised she was gone when it was dinner time. He didn't know where she had vanished to, but he wondered when she would be back. She was a free being, after all, but he felt lonely when she was not with him. When he couldn't see her anytime, have a look into her beautiful eyes any time he wanted too, then he felt lonely…

The water was almost completely still; the reflection of the moon on it almost perfect.

With a sigh, she turned her head towards the sky. On the blue background, there were hundreds and thousands and millions of stars, looking down on her. They were shining in the most different kinds of colours, but it was hard for her making out any difference between those tones. Her eyes were weak, too weak to see the clear differences. But she knew that they were not simply stars. Behind each and every one of them, there was a story. You simply had to know how to read it.

But Ahiru didn't know this kind of things.

Slowly, her eyes lowered, until they first met the crowns of the highest trees and to then wander downwards till they met the pond lying right in front of her. Slowly, she put a foot into it, paddling around a bit, moving over the surface. She happened to be the epicentre of the only waves on the pond now.

Another sigh left her body.

She had felt very sad when she had left the house today. All of a sudden, when she had heard some birds singing outside the window, she had felt sad. No, not only sad. It seemed to be more of a depression to her than simple sadness. She was longing to be part of the birds' singing, to be part of their joyful time in nature, the same time that she felt like staying in the house. It already was such a long time now that she felt so torn apart.

And she couldn't talk with anyone about it, for no one would understand it anyways, no one would understand her pain.

But then, there always was something to look forward to. Maybe others wouldn't be able to do so, but with her many memories and her every night's endless dreams, it was bearable.

Not simply bearable; actually quite nice.

A sudden shiver ran through her body as the wind made the leaves rustle. She suddenly realised that it must have already been quite late.

If he was lonely without her, maybe just a bit?

She didn't know. But she knew that she was feeling quite lonely without him right now. She started paddling like mad.

Right now, she felt as if she had to go back.

There was music coming from the dancing room, where Mytho used to practice until his feet hurt. Slowly he walked up to the door and opened it a bit; just enough to see who was in there.

As he had expected, it was her.

She was standing close to the window front. The warm sunlight that filled the room through them made her silhouette appear even shinier than it would have been anyways. Her hair was framed by the shining white light. It made it look as if she herself was the sun of this room, lighting it as good as the sun could have ever done.

Almost shyly he entered the room, setting one foot in front of the other with the careful attitude of a cat. He didn't want to interrupt her practises with the carelessness of a noise. When he had entered the room, he figured that she was doing her basic practises.

And she was doing it perfectly fine.

He could see how every muscle in her body was under her control, just as he could read in her face that she was doing all this with utter concentration.

She has always had a hard time doing even the basics properly.

All of a sudden, she turned her head towards him. She gave him this warm smile only she could manage. Instantly, he felt the warmth closing in on him, warming his heart like nothing else could.

Slowly, carefully, she left the basic position she had just been in, stretching one warm towards him. Without her having said a word, he knew that this was an invitation for a "Pas de Deux" with her.

Silently he closed the door behind him, and then started walking up to her. He laid his hand into hers, and without a word, they started dancing.

There was no music. There was no audience. But they didn't need any. All that was for the two, was their dance; their "Pas de Deux".

She was wearing a flowing white dress, which's faint rustling gave the whole scenery some kind of reality. Her white shoes only made little noise when she put them on the floor, but they were not ghost like illusions.

This always was the part, when he began cursing those dreams. It was the moment, when his mind started playing tricks on him, when suddenly everything seemed so real. He could smell the faint odour of her hair, her warm breath on his hands when they were close to her face. When he lifted her body from the ground, he could feel her weight in his hands the way he did when they had been dancing at the bottom of the lake, when he had convinced her of putting an end to the story. Whenever her skin touched his, it felt so soft; he could hardly keep his mind focused.

But then, after all, there was this little part of his mind that did not give in to the illusion. Somewhere, in a very distant territory of his brain, there raised a voice, calling out to him, saying that he should better not lose himself in this dreaming. Her body with all its smells and warmth and sounds, it was nothing but a memory, put together in a new way to make it seem like something new, something not yet tasted.

And the most obvious sign for all this being nothing but a dream was that she never opened her mouth to say a word. She only smiled. Maybe this was because the memory of her voice had long fainted in his mind, and the sound he remembered was nothing but a bad copy anymore. He didn't know.

But as he started turning her in his hands, the rustling of her dress' skirt changed. It didn't sound like the rustling of a dress, rather like the rustling of feathers.

Right now, it wasn't very hard for him to wake from this utopian dream reality of his.

As she was flying through the night, she passed the girls dormitories she had used to live in. She made a break on one of the window sills, looking into the room where her former friends were fast asleep. From all that she had come to see lately, she could tell that those two were on the right way. Not long, and they would be dancing with the best of their school, and soon be the main characters in every ballet in the town, maybe even in foreign theatres soon.

She was quite sure about this.

But right now, the two girls were only dreaming about this, resting their legs for the next day's work. It's a pity, but Ahiru had also learned that her former teacher, their beloved cat dancer, was now living in the headmaster's house, together with his wife, a beautiful white cat, and their many children, the cutest of kittens.

With another sigh, she left the rooms that had been so familiar to her. But she made another break, at the fountain in the middle of the court.

How many times had she passed by this beautiful stones, without even recognizing the nice sound the water made when it was falling from one stone to the other?

And how many memories there were linked with this place. Sometimes, when all the students where in their ballet classes, she came here to taste some of the sweet nostalgia around the entire place. It was bitter sweet nostalgia, but she has had such beautiful times… She didn't want to spoil them with sadness, which was her reason to cherish them, and never be sad when she thought of the times so far gone now.

Carefully, so she wouldn't make too much noise, she jumped off the fountain again, walking slowly along the park. She ran over the grass, bathed herself in the green background. And all of a sudden, she started dancing.

She didn't actually know why. But she remembered the choreography she had learned a long time ago, and she started moving her plump feet to a melody that only she could hear. It was a sad one, but nevertheless a powerful one. The tune went faster and faster, and her body almost ached from all the sudden movements, which where fierce and sudden but always somehow swift. After a few minutes, when the final of the song had come, she almost fainted.

She let herself fall to the earth. Exhausted she was, at the end. Every muscle in her body ached as she suddenly let go off all control. Her breath went fast.

It took her a few moments to get back the control again, and only under great pain was she able to get onto her feet again and continue her journey.

Swiftly, she ran her way. She knew where she had to go, and when her eyes spotted the open window, she took her all her strength together to get up there, to enter the familiar room. She wanted to leave behind the dark night, the cool autumn air chasing her. She didn't feel like looking at the stars anymore, neither did she feel like hiding her body in the waters of the pond right now.

In a rush, she entered the room, letting herself fall as silently as possible onto the bed, to the place were she belonged.

As his eyes opened, they were to meet one of the most beautiful things there were to be made out after awaking: Another pair of eyes. They were the clearest blue eyes he had ever come to see, and he loved losing himself in their pure colour.

"Good evening, my lady", he said with a sleepy voice. He was still a bit caught in his dream, not yet truly awake. His dream and reality were still hard to keep apart, so he had a hard time seeing his dream in those blue eyes.

With a "Quack!" too silent for a normal duck to be made, she answered his sleepy greeting.

Carefully, she touched the tip of his nose with the tip of her bill. He was surprised by that tender gesture of her, and he was about to make some place for her so she could have some of the cushion too and lie down right next to him.

But before he could move another muscle, she had put an end to her gentle gesture and moved to the place right between his shoulders and his throat, cuddling into the little space that was left for her.

Though he was completely taken by surprise, he had to smile. He could feel her warm body right next to him, how she breathed evenly. He lifted one of his hands to lay it onto her body, caressing her feathers until he fell asleep.

Both of them knew that there was never to be more for them but those gentle gestures, showing their never to be lived affection for each other. Both Ahiru a Fakir had decided on living with the fact that she would always be a duck and he would always be human. But it didn't bother them much anymore. They would simply spend their time together, cherishing memories, creating new.

And so they were to be together, ever after.