A/N: I was never really planning to write in the first place, but this story came to me and demanded to be written. So, since it was being written anyways I thought I ought to post it, so someone might get some enjoyment out of it besides me. And of course I in no way own Princess Tutu.
Gone
It was gone. Gone and she didn't know where to look for it, or even how to go about doing so. It wasn't a solid object that she could retrace her steps around the pond looking for, like she might do for a normal missing thing. Not that she had anything to misplace recently. ("One of the good parts of being a duck," she would tell herself, as sternly as she could manage, on those occasions she caught herself longingly watching people in town going about their daily business). No, it wasn't real or tangible, but it was definitely gone. The warm feeling in her breast, the quickening of her heart, it was all gone and no matter how long she thought of the Prince it wouldn't come back. And, she realized with a sudden clarity, she didn't know how long it had been gone. For all that she was just now aware it was gone, the knowledge came with the conviction that it had been gone for a while now, a good deal longer than her memories cared to tell her. But, how was she supposed to look for it when she didn't know where to begin?
"Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end: then stop."(1)
Sensible advice from a nonsensical book, one of the many books Fakir had read to her since the ending. She smiled inwardly (she had found smiling outwardly a good deal harder since she had become, or rather returned to being, she supposed, a duck) at the memory. Quickly she shook her head, freeing herself of the memory before it became too pleasant a distraction, and focused on the advice. "Begin at the beginning."
The beginning was much like the ending, with a lone duck drifting across the pond. But then the duck wasn't alone anymore, because a prince had joined her. And he danced beautifully and gracefully, but the small duck saw his eyes were full of loneliness. Or maybe not loneliness exactly, but something that wanted very much to be loneliness, only it had forgotten how. And though the duck was small, she had a very large heart (a good deal larger than anyone had any right to expect from a duck of any size) and she wished very much to help the poor prince who's eyes were full of something that was almost loneliness.
But then the duck found she wasn't a duck at all, but a girl, who dreams of a prince very much like Mytho. And thinking of Mytho made the girl's chest tighten and face flush, though she found, as she fingered her bright red pendent, that she was at a loss to explain why.
She remained at a loss until the next day, when Mytho fell out of the window. She felt herself running to save him, the selfsame pendent transforming her into Princess Tutu. And as she did so the feeling came rushing at her, strong and loud. I am love, the feeling commanded with an authority that was not to be argued with. And Princess Tutu was, after all, only a small girl, who until recently had been an even smaller duck, so she did not question it.
When the duck woke up only the vaguest stirrings of the feeling remain. She wondered if it had all been a fanciful dream. No, the man with the wild eyes assured her, it did not have to be a dream if she didn't wish it to be. If she had the resolve she could become Princess Tutu again and save the Prince by collecting and returning the shards of his heart then he would give back the pendent and she could be a girl again. The duck thought of her own large heart, and the strange new feeling that had invaded it and agreed.
The little girl did the best that she could, and each time she became Princess Tutu, each time she gently cupped a piece of the Prince's own heart in her two hands the feeling grew. And when the Prince had been captured by Princess Kraehe, Princess Tutu danced her love for the Prince and the feeling grew and grew until she felt she would burst. Then the Prince choose her, danced a pas de deux with her and she felt that she really had burst into a speck of light, just like they had told her she would. And even when the Prince lost himself to the raven's blood and she felt there was no way she could help, the feeling of love, her own large heart (which was larger now than it once was) insisted that she must do whatever she can to help the Prince. And even when he told her that he loved Rue and Princess Tutu felt something inside her shatter, she did her best to help the Prince and so she, with some reluctance at first, handed him her pendent, the last shard of his heart.
Now all that was left was a small duck with a large heart who watched as the Prince struggled in vain against the townspeople that had turned into crows, trying to rescue Rue from the depths of despair inside the Monster Raven. She had to help, she needed to save everyone. So the small duck did the only thing left to her, she danced. And her dance full of hope was able to help save the people, able to help kill the Monster Raven, able help end the story.
The town was free of the story and the Prince and Rue were leaving. The Prince belonged in the story and Rue belonged with the Prince. But her friend Rue was leaving her and the small duck cried-
Startled by the thought the small duck snapped free of her memories, only to go back and investigate them more closely. The story had ended… Rue was leaving… and the duck was crying. And earlier… she was a duck again… and she had to help save everyone. Comprehension settled over the duck. Princess Tutu was gone and she had taken the feeling with her. The shortness of breath, the unbidden smiles, they had never belonged to the small duck in the first place, they had belonged to her. And now they were both gone, because it was the ending.
The ending was much like the beginning, with a lone duck drifting across the pond. But then the duck wasn't alone anymore, because Fakir had joined her.
(1) From Lewis Carroll's Alice Adventures in Wonderland (Which, it's worth noting, I don't own either).