A/N: Well, this was a little thing I was doing for fun. It was supposed to be short, just a blurb maybe. But then it got longer. Now, it shall have to be more than one chapter long. *sigh* This takes place in an ideal story-land world that Drosselmeyer might have created for Prince Siegfriend. This also features Lohengrin, his first knight, and Princess Tutu and Rue, in their counterpart storybook selves that I've come up. There are various references to The Nutcracker and Swan Lake, mainly names. The book The Other Boleyn Girl was quite an influence in writing this as well.
Disclaimer: I do not own Princess Tutu or any of Tchaikovsky's works.
Warnings: Um... AU, ish. And since Lohengrin =/= Fakir in my head canon, I suppose you might expect OOC.
Da Mihi Tuum Cordem
By: Nuit Songeur
It was widely known that Princess Tutu wasn't exactly a princess. Lohengrin wasn't sure if she was even a duchess. If he remembered correctly, she had been a simple commoner that was a lady in waiting for the previous queen. Prince Siegfried was, instead, the supreme ruler of the land, and Princess Tutu was just another faithful subject of his. She was granted the name and title after proving herself the most talented dancer in all of the court. It was she who the prince favored and adored. Besotted, as some would say. She was the favorite. Perhaps because she danced so beautiful, so eloquently. She was always chosen as the prince's dance partner during the enacted masque. No one else dared to dance with her, not even Lohengrin, the first knight to the prince.
Princess Tutu loved the prince's attention almost as much as she loved the prince himself. She would make a pretty wife, one day. Perhaps a pretty queen. But, even with her fancy title, Lohengrin wondered if anyone still remembered her common heritage. Surely the prince remembered, a pressured bachelor who was always hounded to marry before the summer was out. Though Siegfried never betrayed his stress to anyone, Lohengrin saw at night how his prince paced the length of his privy room anxiously. There was many things for him to worry about nowadays. Selecting a queen, an attack from the neighboring kingdom. Siegfried, so kind, patient, and humble was on the brink of breaking. Lohengrin knew it would be dangerous if a solution was not found quickly. There was always a threat of sorts, plaguing his prince constantly.
"Marry Tutu," Lohengrin braved one evening, when they were alone in the prince's privy room. Siegfried seemed utterly confounded by the idea.
"What?" he gasped.
"Marry Tutu," Lohengrin repeated, coming closer to his prince. "It will give you a queen, Parliament will stop pestering you to find a wife, and everyone will adore her. They already do." The flash of desire that passed through Siegfried's eyes was unmistakable. But he shook his head.
"I can't," he said, wearily running a hand through his pure white hair. "She's only a commoner. Parliament will eat me alive if a commoner is on the throne." Lohengrin shrugged, persisting.
"It does not matter what they think," he said. "You are the prince, the unchallenged ruler of this kingdom. Parliament can go bed themselves for all it matters." Siegfried flinched at Lohengrin's choice of language, as he always did, and hesitated.
"There's something else," he said. "The advisors I've sent to Raven country have been doing all they can to write up the treaties and settle the king. They've… they think they've come up with a solution."
Lohengrin waited patiently for the answer. Siegfried sighed and turned gravely to his most trusted knight.
"They want a marriage between me and the king's daughter. A political marriage." Of course, the answer seemed blatantly obvious now.
"Then what's the problem?" Lohengrin asked, perhaps a bit too uncaring. He was a knight, his duty was to protect. Siegfried was the king, he was more… emotionally inclined.
"Tutu," he said. "I'll be betraying the Swanheart family of their gracious gift." Lohengrin couldn't help but chuckle at the presumptuous family.
"They've offered Tutu to you, already? I didn't think that the cardinal would be so willing—" Suddenly, Siegfried flared, an angry spark.
"You were the one that told me to marry her! And now you know I can't!" Lohengrin shrank back from the uncharacteristic anger of his prince. But the anger was already gone, replaced by weariness.
"I am sorry, my prince." Siegfried held up a hand to silence him.
"I make the announcement tomorrow of my betrothal. And then you are to go and fetch my bride. Dismissed." Lohengrin nodded, saluted, and left the prince alone with his dark thoughts.
On his way to Mass the next morning, Lohengrin passed by two ladies in waiting talking in high pitched whispers of excitement. He knew them, two silly things that liked to fill their time with silly gossip. Rose and Lily were their names.
"Did you hear? Did you hear?" asked the blonde one, Lily. Her companion was confused.
"Hear what?"
"Oh, she must be so heartbroken! It's truly, wonderfully tragic!" Rose gasped.
"Tutu?"
At this, Lohengrin stopped, listening harder.
"She's been crying all morning!" He turned to the silly, talking girl.
"Tutu?" he said. "Where is she?" Lily seemed only too happy to divulge the distressing news.
"In the courtyard next to the chapel. She never made it to Mass!" she delighted. Lohengrin suddenly found himself running. He wasn't quite sure why he wanted to see Tutu for himself, or why even cared about her or how she was taking the prince's new betrothal. But, he was a knight, chivalrous as always there when a maiden was in distress.
Tutu was sitting on the water fountain's edge, paying no mind to the skirt of the cream gown she was crumpling. Lohengrin hesitantly drew nearer.
"Mistress Swanheart?" he called out to her softly. Abruptly, the girl wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her gown, further ruining the dress. She turned her head to respond, and Lohengrin saw that even she could not hide her red eyes.
"Yes?" He silently went over to sit next to her on the fountain.
"You are unhappy," he noted, running his fingers in the cool water. She chuckled at his obvious statement.
"Silly, really," she said, stammering. "Father said, promised that I…" She couldn't finish, and he could understand why. She had her heart broken, a heart full of love and false promises. He tried smiling down at her.
"Your heart will heal," he promised her. "In time. The prince… he loves you as well. But, he has a duty, a duty that prevents him from indulging in his emotions. Do not worry, Mistress Swanheart. You will marry as well. You are at a ripe age, thirteen, correct?"
She nodded silently.
"You are renowned throughout the kingdom for your beauty and compassion. You will receive much more offers of marriage than the prince."
"But I am a commoner," she protested. Lohengrin faltered for a moment.
"Even commoners get married." She couldn't help but smile at him, a beautiful smile of frail hope that made something in him freeze. Or melt. He couldn't tell which. Not noticing his reaction, Tutu turned back toward the pond and sighed.
"You are right, I suppose. I want what's best for him, as anyone else does." She suddenly laughed at herself. "He probably doesn't even know my name." Lohengrin was surprised at this.
"Your name? Is it not—"
"No, it's not Tutu," she told him.
"Then, what—" She shook her head.
"You'll laugh at it," she said, blushing.
"I won't," he promised. She paused, bit her lip, and then gave in.
"Odette." She was right; he had to bite back his laughter. Instead, he gently lifted her hand and kissed it.
"Well, Mistress Odette, I'd better be going. I'm to retrieve the future queen today," he said. She smiled at him, another lift of the lips that made something else in him melt.
"I wish you safety on your travels."
It took a total of three days to retrieve the new princess and bring her back to the palace. There was an envoy waiting for them, as to be expected, when they finally arrived. Everyone was excited to see the future queen. To be honest, he had only seen glimpses of her. Throughout the journey, she stayed mainly in her carriage as he directed the caravan of soldiers assigned to protect her. Now, they had reached the palace without a single problem.
Lohengrin stood outside her carriage as the prince came toward them. Everyone else of the palace were in their best clothes and stood in a crowd near the carriage, craning their necks to see the princess. Lohengrin couldn't see Mistress Odette among them, and oddly felt somewhat disappointed.
"I wish to see her!" Siegfried said, clapping his hands together. Someone opened the door to the carriage, and Lohengrin offered a hand to the lady within. She confidently took his hand with her own and stepped down. Her hand was a dainty one, pale and smooth. Yet, held its own level of authority.
Her name was Odile, and she was certainly a beauty to behold with her shining amethyst eyes and thick locks of raven hair, hanging loose around her face. Her figure was supple, full. Lohengrin thought that she would definitely satisfy the prince when the time came. Siegfried humbly bowed his head and tenderly kissed her hand.
"My princess," he said, lifting his face to her blank one, the face of a diplomat, of a princess. "Welcome to my palace." Princess Odile curtsied of her own.
"It is my honor to be here, Your Majesty." Siegfried took her hand.
"Come. A celebration for your arrival awaits."
There was a feast and much dancing, of course. As to be expected— the prince showing his wealth and power to the princess. She sat on his right side, not yet on a throne. Her coronation would come after their wedding. Meanwhile, Lohengrin watched from the edge of the crowd as the prince's eyes occasionally flicked to the silent princess. He wanted to court her, but he was unsure how. She knew her place as woman well.
"You shall have a whole train of ladies in waiting. Does that please you, my princess?" Lohengrin heard the prince ask casually.
"Yes, it does," she said simply. "Thank you." She was wearing a gable hood, an old fashioned style since most of the maidens of Siegfried's court now wore the moon-crescent hood. It might have been old fashioned, but it suited Princess Odile well, complementing her virtue and piety.
"Would you care for a dance, madam?" he asked, gesturing towards the dance floor. Her amethyst eyes transferred to the couples spinning and twirling before them but betrayed no sort of emotion.
"I would be honored," she said, holding her hand out to him. Lohengrin shifted from his shadowed position and decided he fancied a dance as well. He looked for a different partner of sorts, one who was already dancing in the arms of a duke.
"If I may be so bold as to intervene," he said, approaching the pair with a faint smile. Immediately, Mistress Swanheart agreed with open arms.
"I must confess that you have saved me from a horrible evening," she confided conspiratorially. "The Duke of Reed Flutes has awfully smelling breath." Lohengrin's smile widened at that. She was flirting with him, but she was a courtier. It was her job to flirt with men. Her family hoped that it would result in a good offer of marriage.
"If I truly have saved you, then I shall expect some sort of reward." It worked; she giggled— very girl-like— at that.
"What sort of reward, would you like, Sir Knight?" He scowled in mock consideration
"I shall like your favor in the next jousting tournament." She giggled some more.
"Agreed. For you always win the tournament." Flattery, another form of flirting that was usually reserved for the prince. Lohengrin glanced around to make sure he was okay, dancing with the princess.
"You protect him quite faithfully," Odette acknowledged quietly. Lohengrin was slightly stunned at this observation.
"He is my prince. I live to serve and protect him." She nodded and said nothing more of the subject, seeming to have embarrassed herself. When the music stopped for the dance, Lohengrin felt a sudden surge of boldness and tilted her face up to his with a single finger.
"Something troubles you Mistress Swanheart," he said. "For you have not spoken to me since we started the dance. Tell me, did you find any fault with me? Is my breath as awful as the Duke of Reed Flutes?" That made her laugh, quite loudly. Everyone turned to see why someone was laughing when the prince was not. Instantly, she flushed deep red as her father came to save her.
"The Count of Sugarplum is seeking a partner for the next dance, Tutu" he said, casting a scornful eye at Lohengrin for distracting his daughter from her suitors. Lohengrin said nothing and watched as he lead Mistress Swanheart away. She gave a shy good-bye wave before she was placed in the center of attention of another man. Lohengrin sighed; he was only a knight, not a noble.
The next day, Lohengrin searched for the Mistress Swanheart on his way to Mass but was unsuccessful. He lingered in the chapel, to wait for her, and sure enough, she came along with the rest of the ladies in waiting with the Princess Odile. He stayed until they finished their prayers and discreetly kept behind the train until he could take Mistress Swanheart off to the side. She was shocked at the sudden pull at her arm and was immensely relieved to see it was just him.
"Why, Sir Knight," she said with another giggle. "I believe you must have been anxious to see me to drag me out of the princess's train."
"I won't keep you for long," he promised. "The prince plans to host a jousting tournament this weekend, and I wanted to make sure you would make good on your promise."
"Of course," she said, trying to hide a smile. "But I must leave. The princess will miss me and we are sewing shirts for the poor."
"An honorable deed," Lohengrin noted. "So I shall not keep you longer." He kissed her hand, something that made her blush. "Farewell." She curtsied and, lifting her skirts, hurried off after Odile and her train.
Meanwhile, Siegfried made sure that Odile was probably courted. He showered her with gifts: a silver chalice filled with gold and jewels, hundreds of new gowns and hoods and capes, more ladies in waiting, musicians, poets, the best rooms in the entire palace, a new horse. He also took her hunting with him, and she in turn would flaunt her impeccable archery skills. She was a proper princess, and the people loved her. And her dancing was the most exquisite, the most enchanting thing anyone ever saw. Her dancing rivaled Princess Tutu's.
From what Lohengrin could see, this new eclipse of her dancing did not seem to bother Mistress Swanheart. She loved the future queen and served her faithfully and was never troubled that everyone favored the princess for a dancing partner instead of her now. Her family, however, seemed to grow bitter at this rivalry. Lohengrin chanced upon her father conversing with Odette's uncle, Ambassador to Arabia and Baron of Goblets. A very powerful man in their family whose greed and ambition made it impossible for him to be satisfied with whatever position he had in life.
"Soon the princess will be married to the prince and then Odette can be married to some—"
The two men abruptly fell silent when they saw Lohengrin walking by. He pretended to not notice them, but something deep inside of him was enraged at them for wanting to marry off Odette for their own benefit, not caring for her.
Everyone was in attendance for the jousting tournament. Every house and family was competing and it was Princess Odile's job to match all the competitors together for the matches. There was someone riding for the Drosselmeyer family, for the Cavalier family, the Coppelia family, and even Odette's cousin was riding out for the Swanheart family. The only one who was not participating was the prince, an odd circumstance since he usually rode out, bravest of them all.
Clad in his armor, polished meticulously for the event— despite knowing it would be caked in mud by the day's end— Lohengrin urged his horse to the tent of Princess Odile, where Odette was sitting among her ladies in waiting.
"Shall I have your favor, milady?" he asked, with a small smirk to his face. All the girls, particularly Rose and Lily giggled at his audacity. Odette herself pulled her handkerchief from her gown and glanced up at the princess for permission. Odile nodded, a slight smile to her face at the courtly flirtations, and Odette handed Lohengrin the favor, embroidered with the initials "OS" in silver thread.
"You may," Odette said, smiling through her blush. Lohengrin thanked her, stuffing the favor into his breastplate.
"Even if your cousin is riding out against me?" She flashed a him a smile. He noticed she was wearing a becoming gown of green satin.
"A promise is a promise," she said, returning to her seat. Before he could reply to that, the Princess Odile addressed him.
"You better hurry on your way, Sir Knight," she said kindly. "Or they shall start the tournament without you." He nodded and left the tent.
Lohengrin won, of course. He was the best, better than the nobles and sons of nobles. As he and his horse victoriously galloped around the field and as he pumped his lance in the air with a smug pride to the endless cheering, the Princess Odile stood up from her seat to award him his prize. (And, a well deserved prize since he managed to unhorse the pompous Swanheart rider!) He jumped from his saddle and kneeled before the future queen as she held his chalice full of gold before everyone.
"And," she said, after he had received the cup. She removed a necklace she was wearing around her neck and held it out to him. "A necklace for you to give any girl that has caught your fancy." Immediately, his eyes, unwillingly, flickered to Odette sitting beside her. As soon as she met his eyes, Odette looked down at her hands. He saw the tips of her ears turn red. He could have smiled if the prince's Fool did not interrupt just then.
"Ahh, what's this?" asked the clown. Lohengrin turned to see the Fool picking up a white cloth from the ground. "The winning Sir Knight dropped it when he got off his horse." Instinctively, Lohengrin's hand searched for the favor Odette had given him, but he could not find it. Realizing that was what he had dropped, he glanced around anxiously for Lord Swanheart, Odette's father. He was sitting in the prince's tent, one of the royal favorites, and he strained to see what the Fool had in his hands. Lohengrin reached for the token of favor.
"It is a favor given to me," he said shortly. "To win this tournament." He reached out to take it, but the Fool was persistent and held it out of reach.
"Favor from whom? OS." He read the initials loud enough for everyone to hear. From the corner of his eye, Lohengrin could see Lord Swanheart turning red with rage. "Does anyone know an OS?" called the Fool to the entire court. There was laughing at the clown's bawdiness.
"I believe that is mine," interrupted the Princess Odile, much to Lohengrin's relief. This stunned everyone in the court as they did their best to recall the princess's initials. The Fool approached the princess.
"Is it truly, Your Majesty?" he asked, holding out the handkerchief. Princess Odile smiled ruefully.
"I am Odile Schleier." Everyone gasped in recognition, and the Fool humbly presented the favor back to the alleged owner. The prince stood up and gave a pretty speech to the spectators but Lohengrin kept his eyes on the future queen as she surreptitiously gave the handkerchief back to Odette.
"I've yet to thank you, Your Majesty," Lohengrin said a few days later to the princess in her rooms. Her ladies in waiting were gone for the moment, out collecting the materials needed for the masque that Princess Odile was designing.
"There is nothing to thank me for, Sir Knight," she said softly. "Odette is one of my favorite ladies in waiting. She does not like gossip and she is the sweetest and prettiest things I have ever had the fortune to meet. I know of her father's and uncle's plans to marry her to some duke or count or earl. But I know that she is absolutely besotted with you. I would have her marry for love and happiness instead of wealth and position." Lohengrin was stunned that she knew so much.
"Really, You Majesty? You believe she is besotted with me?" he asked, very much like a hopeful schoolboy. Princess Odile smiled warmly at him.
"I know it. Now, go before the girls get back and they lose their heads in the presence of a man." Lohengrin, thinking of Rose and Lily, laughed and did as he was bid.
The Princess Odile and the Prince Siegfried were married within the month. Her coronation was just days later, and then she was recognized as Queen Odile, wife of King Siegfried. The alliance with her family was made, Parliament was contented, and the people were fascinated with their beloved queen, who made frequent public appearances giving alms and other such monarchy business.
Lohengrin saw the beautiful Odette blossom and bloom as he courted her. He gave her the locket he won at the jousting tournament along with a gilded bracelet he managed to find. He danced with her as much as possible, even under the keen eye of her father, and often he would commission poets to write sonnets of her. He himself was never good a poetry. Every time he tried, she would always laugh at his inept comparisons, such as saying that she was like a matured pig. It made sense to him, but the other ladies in waiting would tut at his incompetence. He was thankful that she found them amusing instead of offending.
It seemed as though nothing could break his newfound happiness at court. Until he told King Siegfried his plans to leave court in the summer to get his own land and estate, save up some money, so he could make an offer to the Mistress Odette.
Siegfried, Odette, and Odile are names from the Swan Lake ballet. The word "schleier" that I used for Odile's last name is German for "veil." I got it from Der geraubte Schleier (The Stolen Veil) which is said to be an influence to the Swan Lake story. Please review.
-NuitSongeur
