Merry Christmas, I guess. This really isn't supposed to be a present for anyone, you could say that it was a coincidence that it was published on Christmas Eve. I have no problems with that.

To anybody who has been following my other story: I'm so so so so so sorry! But apologies and excuses isn't helping anything, I know, and I can only say that even if I had the chance to write a multi-chapter story (I have no time), I lost all notes for that story (stupid technology is so fragile). It's going to be prone to editing any chance I get- that is, I'm just going to scrap everything that is already published and start fresh. More notes will come in an A/N on it. Sorry!

Moving onto this one-shot: I've had plenty of thoughts on things like Drosselmeyer's and Fakir's powers. This was one of them- where did Drosselmeyer get his people? Before, it was him writing about the nobility- people who willingly played roles in the story. Just that kind of thinking. On a side note, the entire time I've been writing this, I've been listening to Herr Drosselmeyer's Doll, by Abney Park. That song fits Princess Tutu so perfectly that it's scary :3.

Sorry for any small mistake I made, I've done proof reading but one can never be so sure, so... just in case, sorry. (This story could also be edited, but I doubt it.)

Please review, and enjoy!


To Choose the Cast

It was his end. Oh, how the people hated him and his power. All of nobility feared him, all of the common people had heard of him. They all made him sound like a barely restrained monster. They really weren't wrong.

Anyways, back to his end. That is, his death. But Drosselmeyer was never one to let something as simple as death get in his way. That simply wouldn't do. Thus, he had created a way for him to write beyond his death.

The machine would record all the events that occurred in the town as if he himself was writing it, marking down the flow of every tale. It was embedded into the wall surrounding the town, hidden from any of his curious characters, in case they should seek it. Or from those Book Men. They always spoil his fun. Well, not even they could stop his final masterpiece.

And this last tale? He could only describe it as the most beautiful, most horrific story he has ever spun. Not because it was just truly horrible (he found it so), but because it held no current connections to the real world. It was born originally from paper, and then brought into actuality. This small, grand detail would set it apart from all his previous tales, as those already had a role in the world. It was the classic, tragic tale: The Prince and the Raven.

But since it was a story meant to be real, he had to make links to the physical world. He would need to choose characters to play roles in his marvelous tale. No one would volunteer, of course, that would simply be much too easy. Besides, no one wanted a fate like the ones found in the story. This here was the most interesting part for him. The selection of the cast was important for anything, especially in this story- his death meant that he would have limited control over the flow of the story, so the characters would have to be reliant ones, fully dedicated to their roles (which, for most, would lead them to the grave).

People like that weren't found just anywhere, they had to be taught from birth to fit their parts. Drosselmeyer had to get creative.

First, for the main characters: the heartless Prince and the bloodthirsty Raven. For these, no one in the natural world was quite right. So instead he took his own lifeless body, split it in two, and from each half he created the Prince and Raven. He wouldn't need his body now, anyways, and his hands were already buried in his grave (those foolish Book Men).

The Prince and the Raven were now already perfectly following their roles, placed neatly into the clockwork of the story. They were faithful to their parts. These two would lead the story to tragedy.

Ah! And the Raven's daughter? Well, the Raven could just find some random human baby girl to perform the job. She was a small detail, none of his concern. Actually, it would add to the tragic tone of the story- a kidnapped child who would be raised as a pitiful crow.

Now, for the Knight. A weak character who promised much but delivered little. Someone who no one would regret loosing. The Knight would die quickly. Who cou- wait! Splendid! His own offspring! Not a single person cared for any who shared his blood, due to their cursed power. But alas, his own great-grandson was already too old. The child wouldn't fit properly. But the boy's child could be influenced from birth. Yes, yes, his great-great-grandchild would be born with the markings of the Knight's scar- that should put him on his rightful journey. He'd have illusions of grand deeds to look forward to.

(On a side note, Drosselmeyer realized that he would also in the same way eliminate any threat to his story- with the boy's death, no one but the Book Men could challenge the story itself. And the Book Men would be too late).

But now, for the most tragic character of all. The ever gentle Princess Tutu. Fated to vanish into a speck of light the moment she confesses her unrequited feelings, she would be at the same time the smallest role and yet play the biggest part. She was insignificant on paper, and still had a rather large influence on the tale.

The really tricky part in selecting her was that she would need to be willing to just simply die. No other requirements. (Now he was starting to regret not saving at least an organ from his body to make the girl- this was really a challenge). The Princess would become infatuated with the Prince regardless if her true self was really fated to love him or not, and her only job was to return the heart shards and vanish. This shouldn't have been so difficult!

Inspiration was needed. Inspiration is found almost anywhere, so Drosselmeyer took a tour of the town, and then beyond. Wandering around, lost in his deep thoughts of Princess Tutu, he stumbled upon a lake, where several ducks were eating and swimming peacefully. He stopped here, just observing the scene. Something in his head clicked, and suddenly he had his Tutu.

At the bank of the lake sat a nest filled with eggs- a duck nest. He could all but see the little ducklings in their eggs, growing and getting ready to hatch. Yes, much like he could implant a scar on his Knight, he could put human-like thoughts into a duckling's mind. And a self-sacrificing trait. She would be eager to give up her worthless life for her beloved Prince. Yes, a duck would be perfect- except for the fact she was still just a duck.

He needed her to be human. The duckling wouldn't be able to do anything as a duck, after all. He took a heart shard and fashioned it into a pendant, a magical stone for the duck to become a girl. He'd give it to her the day she needed it.

But any dear little duck found today would be too old to participate, the Knight was far from his birth (or even from his conception), the Raven would have to set up shop, and the Prince needed time to adapt to his surroundings.

There was now nothing left for Drosselmeyer to do but sit patiently and wait. He could do that. He was a patient man, after all. He could do some minor adjustments, bring in a puppet or two to ensure the tale's progress.

The stage was set, the cast was chosen, and now may the story take its due course!