My Mistress Says...

Author: Black-Raven-Kura: Just a note to say, my idea is as incomplete as the story on the walls. However, it's forming steadily in my head, and I desperately wanted to write something for Princess Tutu, but all my other stories are a bit sad to look at right now. In any case, this is an AU (alternate universe) Fakiru (Fakir/Ahiru shipping) and Princess Tutu doesn't belong to me. That's the only time I'm going to say this. Please review at the end.

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Prologue: Incomplete Picture

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He'd never seen something so heartbreaking. In the past, when he'd investigated ruins, the stories told upon the walls in ancient pictures were usually of glory, or battles won or lost, the occasional love story, and the gods. This was a kind of story he'd never seen before.

A knight, a prince and two princesses. And the writers. That was an addition he'd never seen in a story before.

But then, perhaps the true sorrow of this story was that it had yet to end.

"Professor!" a voice called out, "Professor!" It echoed along the cave tunnels. He turned to face the man who was calling for him, and watched impatiently as the man reached him, dressed in a beige coat, hands on knees and gasping for breath. "We thought we'd lost you, Professor."

'Professor' didn't mind being idolized by these people; in fact, he very much enjoyed it. But he hated to be disturbed when he was investigating a new challenge. "Speak your mind," he snapped, "What do you want?"

His subordinate glanced anxiously at him. "There's someone unauthorized on the site, Professor. We caught her trying to steal one of the artefacts. She claimed to know you." The Professor scowled; whoever it was had a lot to answer for, and what was more, now he was in a rotten mood. Following the worker to where the woman had been apprehended, he was surprised to see that he did, in fact, know her.

"Duck?" he muttered, "Do enlighten me. What are you doing thieving from me?"

Blue eyes blinked, and she peered up at him from beneath long red bangs. "I'm not stealing. It's not yours to begin with, it's mine. You know that."

The Professor snorted. "Hardly yours, if you'll excuse me Duck."

She glared. "Very well, Rue's. Some of it belongs to me; she was kind to me that way, you know that. Even if you were her patron, that doesn't mean you own everything she did. Including me, so please release me."

The Professor sighed, and nodded to his workers to let her go. "Listen, Duck, I'm aware of that fact. What matters is that your time passed a very long time ago, as you know. These things are items of the past, and no matter how much sentimental value they have to you, they are of more value to society. That's why I'm digging them up, not so that you can come running and pinch them from me. Do you understand?"

"Rue sent me."

"I had worked that out," he told her secretively, "Now, you're causing a commotion. Will you please just leave?"

She rose to her feet, and looked about her. "The places we've been change a lot over time. But you've earned your title simply by existing; that's hardly fair. They call you a genius, but you can only report what you've already seen."

He snarled, before hurriedly composing himself. "Is that my fault? People wouldn't believe just words on their own, I have been able to retrieve evidence to back me up. How would I know where these things get to over time? I have earned my title the right way, so do not insult me. Go back to your mistress, and remind her that no matter how the time ticks on, I remain her patron. Besides, you are beginning to sound like a lunatic among these folk, and if you continue I'll have to request they take you to an asylum."

Shooting him one last deadly glare, she bowed 'respectfully'. "Yes Professor. I'm glad you achieved your dream in any case. It's not that you're all bad, I suppose." Without another word, she scurried away from the dig site.

"Stupid girl," the Professor tacked on, turning to his men. "Please, continue. I'll be in there," he pointed to where the paintings were, "if you need me."

'No, sadder still,' he thought, 'is that I know the story too well.'