Hello, welcome to my first PT story! It's an honor for me to present this, and I've worked very hard on this. Now, this is set in AU, meaning in doesn't follow the original plot of the anime. The setting is Verona, in Italy. Many locations in this story are real locations, and I've used a bit of Italian. The time period is late 18th Century.
This story is based on Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare. Not one of my favorite plays, really. But it is were you will see some of the ideas originate from. Now, when I say comes from, it is very loosely derived from this, which you will see later in the story! I'd like to give a big round of thank you to Moon Shadow Magic and fakiagirl, who helped me correct those stupid mistakes I've made, and to make sure I didn't break any time period idea. (Like putting a can in the 18th Century... smart move TheKittyRin.) Enjoy!
Revisions have last been made in 2014, and I've re-edited a lot.
Disclaimer: I do not own Princess Tutu.
:: Chapter 1: All this for Bread ::
"Oh...he's going to kill me!" Ahiru mumbled to herself as she stumbled clumsily across a street in the great city known as Verona. "Uncle is going to murder me as soon as I enter that blasted house!" That very thought made her shiver out of fear.
'Uncle' was not truly her uncle, but 'Uncle' was his respected title. He was a cruel man, who enjoyed taunting Ahiru for being an orphan. He always told her that her parents had abandoned her purposely, making Ahiru dread her so-called 'Uncle's presence. Uncle was the brother of the one that had adopted her, a kind man with a big heart. He had a wife but never had children with her, though he loved her dearly. But a few years after her adoption, they had both died under mysterious conditions, thus leaving our Ahiru all alone. Alone, with Uncle. Yet Ahiru would have preferred to be left all alone with no one to rely on rather than have him as family.
As Ahiru quietly opened the door, she crossed her fingers in the hope that he wouldn't hear her, so she could say that she had been in her room all along. Yet the inevitable came.
"AHIRU!" An unbalanced voice came from the living room, roaring, "Come here, you stupid girl!"
Ahiru shivered as she closed the door, not anticipating what he would be doing to her. She crossed the small entry hall, that had a little closet to put coats, boots and such ornaments in. On the floor of the entry hall was a big, beautiful, red carpet that had belonged to her foster Papa, which was horribly carelessly laid in the middle as if it meant nothing, as if it were just a rug to brush dirt off your shoes.
She sighed as she quickly took off her shoes and opened the door. From there, she came into the kitchen that linked with the dining room and the living room. The dining room connected to the library and the stairs that went up to the bedchambers.
Ahiru quickly put the groceries on the kitchen table. Then she poured a glass of beer from the reservoir of beer that was situated in the kitchen, hoping it would calm down Uncle's wrath. She walked to the living room, going more slowly with every step she took.
The man was grossly laid on the red, expensive sofa and had put his smelly feet on the tea table. A few glasses of beer were on the floor, and everything stank of alcohol. It made Ahiru want to vomit. Yet she restrained herself. The fire was roaring to life, and Uncle was reading a book.
Uncle was certainly no great beauty. He was a bulky man who looked old for his age of forty-two. He was completely bald for the most part, except that he had grayish, brown hair on the back of his head. He had a big, red nose and yellow teeth. His dull brown eyes reflected his lack of knowledge. Big, hairy, eyebrows sat above his eyes.
"Where have you been, eh?" he demanded, not looking up at her.
"Well I…" Ahiru began, but she was cut off by Uncle.
"No! I do not want to hear it, slut! You're probably off with boys just like your mother was. You know you should be thankful that my brother helped you out of that situation," Uncle spat, glaring at Ahiru. As soon as he saw the beer, he waved at her to bring him the glass. She did as she was told, and as she handed him the drink, he caught her wrist, making her wince in pain, "Tch. What a fragile looking hand. Get to work, stupid girl! Now!" the man demanded, and Ahiru nodded carefully, scared and angry about what he had just said. She headed out of the living room and into the dark kitchen, tears forming into her eyes, like every single other day.
The problem was not being called a slut, stupid or anything else. No, the worst thing was Uncle calling her mother a slut. Her mother, though she did not have any memories of her, had been a very elegant lady, a noble-to-be, in fact. Though Ahiru did not know the identity of her father, she knew who her mother was. Or had been. For her mother had vanished, shortly after her father's death. No one knew exactly what had become of her. However, Ahiru still remembered her melodious name: Milady Flora Capulesia. A fine Italian woman.
Ahiru felt her heart flutter as she remembered the kind image she had of her mother. The locket began to feel restless around her neck. She gently took it in her small hands and squeezed the locket to open it. Inside was a picture of her mother.
She had long, wavy black hair and mesmerizing emerald eyes—dark green eyes that gave her the appearance of being able to see through almost anything. She had a kind face, with a smile full of passion for living things. How could such a pretty person, and kind as could be, just vanish into thin air? That was a mystery to Ahiru. Why couldn't people like Uncle disappear?
She sighed and decided to start cooking the soup. She cut the carrots and put them all into the boiling water. Then she grabbed the tomatoes and cut them as well. She began setting up the table with drinks and such, only to quickly realize she had forgotten to buy bread. Oh no. Uncle would see that for sure. And he would probably hunt her down for it.
She nervously glanced into the living room and saw Uncle snoring loudly on the couch. She still had time, for he would wake up the moment he was hungry. She looked at the soup, knowing she should still wait one an hour or so before she could expect for it to be good and tasty. So taking her courage, she quickly put on her shoes, grabbed a few coins, and headed outside.
The cold breeze of the night brushed her soft skin and made her shiver. She instantly regretted not taking her coat, but was too scared to go back in case she would wake up Uncle. So she continued down the road, unaware of the people around her. Or if she did notice them, she tried to ignore them. People at night scared her; they were all so violent, drunk and such.
The crescent moon hung on top of the black sky with the flashing, bright stars. How she loved stars. Astrology was always a passion of hers. She believed in signs, and somehow, she hoped, a good sign would come someday. It had to come.
The stone road was long and full of twists and turns, but Ahiru knew the city from top to bottom, having started wandering around at a very young age. The houses were silent as she passed by, and only few lights were on. Others were loud, but full of love in a sense. How she envied the families laughing together.
Finally, she made it to the bakery, which was about to close.
She quickly went in and looked for bread, and she saw the last loaf. She smiled in relief and made her way over to grab the bread. Another hand, a big, dark hand, grabbed the bread at the same time she gazed up at the culprit.
He was rich; that was a fact she could immediately see. He wore expensive, elegant clothes: white velvet pants with black shoes and a blue doublet. The man had dark green eyes and his black hair was tied up in a ponytail. He had dark skin, which made his eyes stand out particularly. But he held firmly to the bread.
"Hey!" Ahiru snapped, forgetting completely about his higher rank.
"Yes?" The boy glared at her, annoyed at being questioned. He seemed to be waiting for an answer, but none ever came. Ahiru just stared, bewildered, at the piece of bread. The mystery man gritted his teeth. "Do you have a problem, girl?"
Ahiru was snapped out of her thoughts and she glared into the cold look that the man was giving her.
"Um...Well...I.." She shook her head in frustration. She wasn't very good with arguments. She hated conflict, above all, and she couldn't imagine what Uncle would do to her if she did not bring back the piece of bread. "Well...um, I," she gulped, unsure of how she was supposed to respond. She had always been a bit stubborn, but not in a determined sort of way, but more so in pushiness, "I… this bread. I need it," she bravely stated, trying to sound confident, but she knew that so far she had not succeeded very well. She stared at the ground. The man scrutinized her from head to toe and then grimaced.
"Really? And who are you to tell me this? Is your name written on it? Because I don't see "moron girl" anywhere on this loaf of bread," the man hissed, getting very impatient. Ahiru's eyes shot daggers at him.
"M-moron girl?" She gasped, pulling on the bread while her mouth continued to grumble.
"That's right, moron girl. Now, I would really advise handing me the bread!" he snapped, pulling as well. Both looked at one another, but Ahiru did not let go. She didn't pull either, too paralized to do so. Inside, Ahiru was panicking and she felt as though her eyes were trembling, because her eyesight was getting blurry.
"Why are you being so rude?" She closed her eyes to remain strong. She put one of her feet out to get more leverage. Today, she was wearing her yellow dress that flowed nicely, but it was not suitable for fights. Tearing it would be the last thing she needed, especially because she owned so few decent clothes.
"Do you think I care? Come on, give it me!" The man pushed her slightly, making her stumble over her own feet, but she didn't fall. Yet. He pulled harder. She was scared of him, and his wealth.
"Urgh!" Ahiru cried, sensing that this was going to end badly if this continued and she didn't get home with the piece of bread. "I...uh, I really think that I need it more... why would a noble like you need this?" she noted, exasperated with the man in front of her. The bread was beginning to crack open.
"That would be none of your business," he hissed.
"You're just so...mean!" Ahiru gasped as soon as the words came out of her mouth. The intensity of the pull became a little weaker, but only for a few moments, "I need this... my uncle will not be happy if I don't bring this."
"Hmph. Pity won't do it. Now hand me the bread or I swear I'll…" He never got to finish his sentence, for the both of them had pulled so hard that the bread had broken into two pieces. The two of them went flying in opposite directions, Ahiru falling onto the floor and the man still standing up.
"YOU IDIOT!" he yelled, but soon stopped as he got worried looks coming from the owner of the shop who was aproaching them with mild concern and fear. "Tsk, now look what you've done. Here. Have the blasted piece of bread." He threw the bread to her as if she were an animal. She took it and got up, glaring at him.
"Arrogant, stupid man," she mumbled.
"You'll pay for that, you useless girl," he shot at her in a threatening way, making Ahiru gulp out of fear. "You know, I would have given you the piece of bread had you asked nicely."
"Uh…" she started as she saw him turn around angrily. Oh no. What had she just done? What would happen to her if Uncle were to hear about this? What would happen then? Arguing with a noble…Uncle would be furious. "Um, wait!"
The man looked at her, wondering what that damned girl could possibly want. "What?" he snapped. He was getting impatient and anger boiled inside of him. Right now, all he wanted was to take that thin and fragile neck of hers and break it. How dare she disrespect her like so? And then, there was that nonstop mumbling which aggravated him to no end.
"I'll…do whatever you want. But please, don't go and repeat this to my family. I beg of you."
He looked at her in a superior way. "Don't go promising things to people. Anything is a lot." He stopped, leaning in and smirking.
Ahiru's eyes widened, slightly gasping, "Well... I, um, I just thought..."
"And speak up, you moron!" Fakir was now starting to believe that he was speaking to a child, because neither could form proper sentences. His anger was still apparent, but there was now also a mixture of mischief. She had proposed anything. He could torment her, take advantage of her and make her regret for ever messing up with him. "Alright," he heard himself say. She nodded, hesitantly. "All right then, moron girl." He came closer to her, breathing into her face, "I'll take your offer. You can be... my slave." He smirked, finally finding the correct term for this.
He would make her regret.
Ahiru gulped nervously, getting up from the floor and tried to hide her surprise. "Right... slave." Ahiru shrugged. Typical, conceited rich man. She was afraid, though. Although word would not reach Uncle, now she was afraid of his power. His eyes were full of hate, and they were so scary.
He raised an eyebrow. "And what are you thinking?" He scoffed, "Please don't think I'm about to rape you, or anything. I do have standarts."
This stung a little, but she was immensely relieved to already hear that he could guarantee her this much. A woman's virtue was everything, and she was always hoping that she could save it for someone special. Besides, this meant that he was not as cruel as she had supposed him to be.
"I... I wasn't thinking anything like that!" She blushed, after realizing what the connotations of what he had said were.
"Of course not, moron girl." The man, surprisingly, found it all very amusing, and he had almost forgotten about the bread, which he still needed. He was surprised to see her expression change completely.
Ahiru glared at him. "Moron, stupid, useless!" She couldn't handle all these names people kept labeling her with. She desperatly felt like crying, and it was just horrible. She began to laugh a little,"Everyone just keeps... doing this," she looked straight at him, tears forming in her eyes, "My name is Ahiru, got it? A-hi-ru!|
"Who calls their daughter Ahiru?" he asked, bewildered.
"It's Ahiru because I was named after my mother's favorite animal," she hissed. "It's Japanese."
"Is that so. How very... educated of your family," He smirked, and she grew angry at that comment, "What's your family's name?" he demanded, a bit annoyed at not knowing who she really was.
Ahiru really had no desire to tell him Uncle's name, because she didn't know what he was capable of. Instead, she thought of a much, much better plan, "Well my mother was Milady Flora Capulesia," Ahiru finally admitted, with a bit of pride. It was such a pretty name, after all. She was always very fond of this name, which both held her heritage and her past. The man's eyes widened, and Ahiru wondered what was wrong with him.
"Capulesia? You are joking, right?" He snickered and she gave him a questioning look. What was he talking about? He looked as if she had just slapped him.
"No, I'm not. How is that funny? My mother's gone and you find it amusing?" she asked in disbelief. They walked to the counter and Ahiru handed over the broken bread, much to the shopkeeper's surprise. However, he grumbled something and asked for the money.
"No, merely a thought that traced through my head. But you don't live with her, then?" he asked, giving the money to the shopkeeper. Ahiru stared, shocked.
"Well if my mother's gone, how do you want me to live with her?" Ahiru snapped. She realized her little trick had backfired, as she hadn't expected this man to be so interested in her mother. Ahiru looked at the bread. "Why did you pay?"
"Oh, I'm just a charitable soul, I guess," He shrugged. The truth is, he had no desire to pay until he had heard her family's name. This changed everything, including what he was going to do to her. He needed to do some research urgently.
"And a horrible person," she grumbled under her breath so he would not hear her. His eyes narrowed, saying nothing. She froze, not knowing what she wanted to say. However, she gulped at the thought of being in debt to the arrogant man, so she dropped into his hands her own money. He looked at her, skeptical, but accepted the money. "Stop looking at me as if I was...inferior," she managed to blurt out.
"But isn't that how our hierarchical system works? Power and money determine who is superior in this world. I am in a higher position in the system because I am a noble man, while you are merely a serving wench, correct?" He wanted to see how much she knew about her situation.
"What you say is true, but...you...you need to respect me—as an equal. I may not be... educated, or smart, or pretty... but I'm a person. With feelings, and that deserves... um, respect." Ahiru did not know were all this strength came from, but she wanted to contradict his values. Oh, how she loathed him!
"Perhaps. But I tend to give my respect to people who deserve it." He bowed stiffly, still flustered, and turned around. Ahiru stared at him, dumfounded. That man was certainly something, but that alone was not enough to remove the bitterness between the two of them. She was curious, though, about many things. She was happy to see that he had almost forgotten about their little deal.
Almost.
"Oh, and my name is Fakir Montecchi. You better remember that." He called from behind, and Ahiru froze.
Fakir Montecchi.
The heir to the wealthiest family in all of Verona.
She was going to be the slave of that man.
She swore outloud for her own stupidity. She had really done it, this time.