This was drawn for my Secret Santa recipient, nobody-and-me. One of Nobody's primary requests was stuff elaborating on existing stuff within the series.
This one is set at the end of episode 23: Marionette Ruslan und Ludmilla.
Written as the accompaniment to this: http://elfgrove .deviantart .com/art/PT-SS-2007-Sleep-Well-73230321 (You'll need to remove the spaces prior to each '.' to make the URL work.)
Princess Tutu is copyright (c) Ikuko Itoh, Junichi Sato, GANSIS, and ADV.
Sleep Well
After calling Princess Tutu back from Drosselmeyer's pocket dimension, they embraced. Desperate relief at having defeated the spinner of fates... even if it was only a small victory. She slumped against him suddenly, all of the tension going out of her body, and the transformation shattered into shards of red light.
Ahiru had lost consciousness.
He caught her before she tumbled to the ground, and lifted her up into his arms, cradling her gently against his chest. It wouldn't do any good to let the idiot fall and smack her head after everything they had just been through. Not that a knock to the head would probably make any noticeable difference in her behavior. Ahiru would always be Ahiru, a klutz and an idiot as a duck and as a girl.
Autor returned to the clearing. He was going on about some nonsense again. Fakir ignored the bespectacled boy as best he could, and started the long trek back to the house where he and Charon lived. He couldn't take her back to the Academy dorms like this after all. There were already enough rumors about him. No need to add that sort of trouble to Ahiru's simple mind.
In his bedroom, he removed her uniform jacket and shoes before lying her gently on the bed still clothed. She sighed and mumbled something incoherent as his hands left her.
It was hard not to smile. A little.
She was an idiot. A klutz. Innocent. Trusting. And full of so much hope. He wouldn't mind a little of that hope rubbing off on him.
He pulled the covers around her, tucking her into the bed.
She was becoming something he depended on. Her presence brought him hope. Restored his determination. She was his princess. Even when she was a duck. The failed knight's princess was really a duck. It was appropriate really.
"Good Night Ahiru." My Princess. My Ahiru.
He pushed back her bangs and kissed her gently on the forehead. Charon had done that when tucking him into bed as a child.
He watched at her sleeping form as she mumbled something unintelligible again. Then Fakir turned to leave the room and go downstairs to the kitchen. He needed to study the story he had written for her... before he destroyed it.
This is a one-shot. Please don't ask me to continue.