Uh. This fan fiction is based upon Jim Henson's "The Storyteller" episode eight, Sapsorrow. I thought that Sapsorrow fit this pairing XD Don't blame my overactive imagination! (Also, most quotes from the episode are in italics and quotations.) Also, this is dedicated to MoonChild10, cause she's awesome :D
"Beginning as I do at the beginning, and starting as I must at the start, let me show you fate through the round of this ring: The girl whose finger fits this ring shall become Queen, the law decrees it. What a lucky girl you might think, hmm? Oh, no…" – The Storyteller, Sapsorrow
A king had three daughters. Two were mean, one was not. Ten years without a wife, King Ryoji's only joy was that of being a father. But, the girls were growing up; soon, there would be suitors for Éclair, Mei, and Haruhi. Soon, the castle would be empty.
"I must find myself a husband, or a wife, to comfort me," he mused, examining a ring. The ring… He placed the tarnished gold ring in a box. King Ryoji had taught his three daughters the importance of the old ring many, many times.
"Girls, this ring has been passed down from queen to queen for as long as anyone could remember, but only if it fit the lucky bride's finger!" The king locked the box away. Hopefully, he thought, giggling, it will fit some hunk of a man's finger as well! He informed his assistant that he would like to try the ring again, starting within the week. The next day, the whole town was buzzing with the news, even the king's daughters.
"He can't do that!" Mei shouted, gripping the window seat. Éclair sniffed, agreeing with her sister.
"He's too old to be marrying. He ought to be dying shortly." She bit the corner of her handkerchief. Haruhi peeked through the window at their father.
"Well, I don't think he's too old." She tucked a stray lock of her long hair behind her ear. Éclair turned and looked at her youngest sister like she had grown a second head.
"What-what are you going on about?" she snapped, turning from Haruhi to Mei. The tanned girl looked suddenly horrified.
"Oh, no." Mei whispered, tugging on Éclair's sleeve. "I know what's gonna happen. Some street walker will come along, and the ring'll fit and they'll get married, and then Daddy will die and she'll get everything! That's what'll happen!" She wailed. Éclair gasped and dropped her handkerchief.
The more they thought about this, the meaner they got to Haruhi. While the king was away, they teased, taunted, and tormented her. At meals, they wouldn't let her eat, claiming she was too fat. However, they did not realize that she had animal friends that would steal away into her room, bringing her nuts, berries, and other fruits for her to eat.
Haruhi was sitting in her room, stroking a golden colored dog, when she heard squealing outside. She rushed to the balcony. Mei and Éclair were running towards the castle gates.
"Daddy!" they squealed. "You're home!" King Ryoji laughed, hugging the two of his daughters. "We missed you!" Éclair exclaimed. Mei nodded.
"We cried ourselves to sleep every night." She told him. "Our eyes are bloodshot, aren't they?" She pointed at her left eye. Ryoji examined it with mock concern. "They are, I know." Mei bounced on the balls of her feet. Éclair noted the lack of extra people with their father.
"No bride, then?" The taller of the two commented. The king shook his head.
"Not this time. The ring was a queer shape. None could wear it." He sighed. Mei threw a hand in the air.
"Oh, it's fate!" she proclaimed. Éclair patted his shoulder.
"Then it wasn't intended." She agreed with her sister. The king looked around curiously.
"Where's your sister?" He asked. Éclair scoffed and Mei sighed.
"Oh, who knows?" Éclair placed a hand over her heart. "She could be off flirting with the guards, or in the kitchens gorging herself!" Haruhi rolled her eyes and stepped back into her room. She prepared herself for the day and went to greet her father.
Later, in the main ballroom, there was a queue of women (and some men) filing out the door and around the castle grounds, waiting to try the ring. Mei and Éclair stood above the crowd, on a balcony, commenting on each person that tried the ring. At five o'clock sharp, the king's assistant rang a bell, signaling that the contest was closed for the day.
"Too late! Too late! Go home, you harpies!" The oldest sisters screeched. Mei ran her hand along the railing.
"How disgusting." She sneered to Éclair. The tawny haired sister nodded her concurrence.
"I mean, we should be queens, actually." Éclair motioned to herself and her shorter, bleach-blonde sister. "Together." Mei's eyes widened, suddenly sparkling with glee.
"I know!" She tittered. "What if the ring were to fit you, or me?" Éclair gasped softly. "Then what?"
"Well, he wouldn't want to marry us." Éclair twirled some hair around a finger. "But then, he couldn't marry anybody! Which is even better!" They both glanced at the pedestal the ring rested on. Mei motioned to her sister. "Come on!" she hissed, already halfway to the ancient ring. Éclair hurried to catch up.
Éclair snatched up the ring and slipped it on each of her fingers, but it wouldn't go past her knuckles. Mei sighed harshly and seized the ring from her sister. She slipped it on her ring finger and froze.
"Ouch." She twisted the ring on her finger, trying to get it off. "Ow!" she squealed. The ring wouldn't budge. "Ouch! It's completely stuck!" She howled.
"What's stuck?" Haruhi walked up behind them, brushing her newly short hair behind her ears. Éclair whirled around and glared at her sister.
"None of your business. Are you trying to look like a boy in drag?" she retorted, eyeing Haruhi's hairstyle. Haruhi shook her head. Mei let out a small whine, drawing Haruhi's attention.
"Can I help?" She asked, pointing to the stuck ring. Éclair nudged her away.
"No, go away! Get, get!" she scowled, rustling her skirt. Mei smacked Éclair's arm.
"Let her help! She's better at these things than you are!" the tan sister offered her hand to Haruhi. Haruhi twisted and pulled the ring at the same time. It came off her sister's finger with a pop! and dropped to the floor with a small tinkling that seemed to echo like thunder.
"Hello? What's all this noise?" Their father strode into the ballroom, tying his girlishly long hair back. "Is everyone all right? I heard human cry." Mei flushed.
"Human cry, Daddy?" she squeaked. "Pick it up!" she hissed out of the corner of her mouth at Haruhi. Then, Haruhi did a thing she will long regret. Obediently, she bent. Oh, folly! And, she stooped. Oh, rash! She picked up the ring, and slipped it onto her finger for safe keeping. Ryoji peered over Mei's finger at the pedestal. His mouth dropped open.
"Where's your mother's ring?" he asked shakily, picking up the velveteen pillow and checking underneath it. Éclair pointed an accusing finger at Haruhi.
"Father, she was playing with it!" she lied. Haruhi gasped, offended. "Yes, we didn't want to sneak." She finished. Haruhi gaped.
"I wasn't!" Haruhi protested vehemently. Ryoji placed his hand on her arm.
"Little one…" He looked disappointed. Haruhi lifted her hand and rested it on the pedestal.
"I wasn't!" She promised. Ryoji's eyes were drawn to a glint of gold on her ring finger. His eyes filled with tears.
"Wh-what's this…? On your finger?" He let out an 'Oh!' of shock, realizing it was the ring. "No!" He gasped, drawing her hand to eye-level. "Not on your ring finger!" He whimpered, as if saying it would make it untrue. She pulled her hand away sharply, looking horrified. Mei and Éclair looked incredulous.
"It fits!" Mei screeched. Haruhi's hand was shaking. Her eyes darted back and forth, from her hand to her father as the implications popped into her mind.
"It fits…" Ryoji repeated sadly. The gossip of the ring fitting the king's youngest daughter spread like wildfire.
Haruhi sat in her room, surrounded by her forest animal friends, arguing with herself.
"I cannot marry my father. We cannot ignore the law. I cannot marry my father, but the ring…" she trailed off and scrutinized her hand as if it was not a part of her. Her face was pale with shock, and her voice cracked with grief.
The next day, Ryoji tried to escape the arrangement. "Isao, I cannot marry my daughter." His assistant didn't bend.
"Sire, it is the law of the land. The ring fits… Your child's finger… You must marry her." Haruhi spoke up from behind her father.
"Then I'll cut my finger off." Ryoji let his anger bubble over.
"Why did you play with the ring? Why did you tamper with it?" he turned his attention back to his assistant. "When…" He swallowed audibly. "When must the ceremony take place?" Isao took a deep breath.
"As soon as the preparations allow." The assistant stood to leave. Nobody noticed Haruhi's eyes cloud over with calculations and ideas.
"Then, first: find me a dress of the palest silk, like the moon. I will not wed until I have it." She requested, making her way to her room. She locked herself in and started her plans. Isao nodded curtly and set to work.
Haruhi's own room was a flurry of activity as animals came and went, more frantic than usual. The day came when Isao and some of her father's royal army brought the dress she asked for. Isao landed three sharp knocks to her bedroom door. Haruhi opened the door a small bit and poked her head through.
"It's beautiful." She smiled softly. "But now I must have one sparkling with silver, like the stars." Isao's and Ryoji's smiles slid right off their faces. "For my trousseau." She explained, reaching for the first dress.
"Yes, of course. For her trousseau." Isao's lips pressed into a thin line. "Sire, where are we to find such a dress?" He asked stridently. Ryoji's eyes narrowed.
"Do as she says." He bit. Haruhi retreated into her room, taking the pale dress with her. All through the land, the king's men scoured every town, looking for the perfect dress.
All the while, in Haruhi's room, another garment was being made, more marvelous, more wonderful…
A second time, Isao graced her bedroom door with three sharp knocks. Haruhi cracked the door and peeked out. A dark blue dress embroidered with sparkling silver thread was presented to her.
"Beautiful, beautiful. It's absolutely beautiful." She breathed, reaching out to take it from the royal seamstresses. Isao seemed to puff up with pride.
"Sire, when do you wed? The council is growing impatient." He turned from Haruhi to Ryoji, who looked expectantly at his daughter.
"Haruhi?" She opened the door no further, though she did let the dress go.
"This dress is for the wedding feast, the other for the procession." She started. "But now I must have one for the church." She looked almost bashful. "Gold, it should be. Like the sun! Bring me such a dress, and on the morrow we shall wed." she seemed to cheer up, and smiled widely. She purposefully ignored Isao's frustrated huff. Haruhi pulled the dress into her room and closed the door.
"Gold, she says." Isao fumed. "All gold, like the sun. Bring her such a dress, and they shall wed on the morrow." Éclair and Mei, having tagged along this time, rolled their eyes at each other.
"Gold?" Éclair scoffed. "So spoiled." Mei agreed, and the two older sisters flounced off, arm in arm.
And all the while gold silk was being spun, Haruhi stayed in her room; she never left. Only her wild friends knew what she was up to, flying in; slithering out; busy, busy.
The dress was finished in record time and brought to her door. Isao knocked a third time, three sharp blows to the door. Haruhi opened the door, but did not make herself visible. Isao leaned to the doorway, and Haruhi shrank back, not wanting to be seen.
"Princess?" He called, thoroughly confused.
"Yes?" She returned. Isao sighed, frustrated.
"We have here a dress, like none before has seen. Of gold, dazzling. One hundred hands have sewn it." The dress of gold silk was pushed through the door, into her room. She could not hold back a gasp of surprise. The dress was beautiful.
"It is what I asked for. We shall be married on the morrow, then." She acquiesced, pulling the wheeled mannequin in the rest of the way with the tips of her fingers. Ryoji's face fell. This was it.
"We shall be married on the morrow." He repeated, his voice hollow. Neither father nor daughter slept that night.
The next morning, Mei and Éclair followed their father to Haruhi's room, prancing along and curtsying to each other. Isao knocked and knocked at Haruhi's door, but nobody answered. The king's assistant called King Ryoji's guards forward and knocked down her door.
The room was empty, save some bird feathers and the queen's ring. Haruhi was not there. A dark figure, coated in fur and feathers, stole its way off the castle grounds, unnoticed in the fluster of the missing princess.
Yes, you thought correctly. That shadow of fur and feathers was Haruhi. That she was, the ill-fated princess, hurrying away; her past discarded. Her future? Who knows?
Two years later, a poor creature of fur and feathers tended geese in a king's garden and scrubbed the floor and pots in his kitchen. You may have thought 'Hey! That's the princess!' Princess of slops? Yes. Princess of peelings? Perhaps. Princess of the kitchen floor? Certainly.
Then, one day, this princess met a prince.
"Where's the cook?" Prince Tamaki asked, tap-tap-tapping down the kitchen steps. "Do you know?" He asked Haruhi. Haruhi shook her fur covered head and resumed scouring the floor. "You don't know?" Haruhi shook her head again. A feather came loose and fell to the floor. "Can you even talk?" He strode around her and stood at her head. She looked up. "Uh… Never mind. Can you give the cook a message? There's a ball tonight, and I've seen the menu. I want goose added." Haruhi clenched her teeth. "He knows how I like it. Roast goose with orange." The prince clarified. Haruhi met his gaze. "What's that look?" Haruhi recommenced staring at the floor.
"It's a look." She stated simply. Her voice was raspy and hoarse from disuse. "If there was a tax on looking, we'd all be beggars…" She declared, then suddenly remembered who she was talking to. "…Sire." Prince Tamaki smirked.
"What's your name?" He asked, hands akimbo. Haruhi dared a quick look at him.
"I've no name. They call me the Straggletag." Prince Tamaki emitted a short laugh. Haruhi's shoulder shook from propping herself on the floor.
"Well, Mister Straggletag. You don't stare at princes." He inclined his head and a lock of blond hair fell into his eyes. "It's not polite in one so… Low." He straightened. "Or one so ugly." He tacked on the end, and started for the stairs.
"Why eat geese? They don't harm you." Tamaki froze, one foot on the bottom step.
"I happen to like geese." He brushed his hair out of his face. Haruhi let out a whoosh of air.
"So do I." She agreed. "That's why I don't eat them." Tamaki stepped down from the step and placed a booted foot on Haruhi's backside.
"Pass on my message. And take that for your manners." He pushed his foot, sending her to the floor. "Roast goose, with orange." He reminded, yet again. "A dozen of them." He clomped up the stairs and disappeared into the palace above.
That night, at the ball, they sat. The geese, twelve cold stares on the table; while around them many danced; many daughters wore their mothers' pearls. The prince was there, handsome, admired, separate.
Many parents looked on and hoped. The prince sat and smiled, but did not dance. Until late, unannounced, mysterious, a woman enters, wearing a gown of pale silk. Like the moon…
What could he do, the prince, but walk towards her? What could he do but lead her to the floor? They danced. It was as meant to be as left to right; morning to night; dark to light; they belonged.
But when the music stopped, she slipped away. Prince Tamaki followed her easily; she was the only woman in the room with boy short hair.
"Wait!" He called after her as she glided through the large, ornate doors. "Wait! I don't even know your name!" He got no answer. The prince was left mystified, excited, tingling! He's hooked, line and sinker.
The week after, Haruhi scrubbed the kitchen floor a second time. Halfway through the chore, the head maidservant, Hani, bounded down the stairs.
"Ne, ne! Prince-chan has sent for clean towels!" The ball of energy informed the laundry staff, Kyoya and Mori, then bounded back up the stairs.
"Hey, where is everybody?" Kyoya questioned, pausing his ironing. Mori placed a freshly folded towel on a stack of like linens.
"Upstairs. They're all busy. Another ball, so soon!" The taller man scoffed and picked up another towel. Kyoya picked up the iron again.
"We've barely recovered from the last one!" Kyoya protested, pushing his spectacles up his nose with his free hand. He turned to Haruhi. "Oi, thing!" He called. She snapped up. "You go." Mori held out the towels for her. Haruhi rose from her spot and took the towels upstairs.
She knocked three times on Prince Tamaki's door and eased her waiting by patting the clean towels smooth. The door swung open and Prince Tamaki stood in the doorway in his undershirt and pants. She averted her gaze immediately.
"You sent for clean towels?" The sound of her voice shocked her; her voice was becoming less raspy and more feminine. He looked her over incredulously and gingerly took the towels from her.
"I hope they're clean." He said, brushing off the one on top. Haruhi chuckled.
"I'm sorry." She leaned forward. "Do I disgust you?" she asked, amusement coloring her voice. Tamaki sighed and leaned against the doorjamb.
"You amaze me. Look: cats chase mice. Hens lay eggs." He pounded his hand into the stack of clean towels. Haruhi furrowed her eyebrows.
"What's that mean?" She asked, attempting to keep the confusion out of her voice.
"It means," Tamaki took a deep breath. "Some things have to do with other things." He motioned towards her. "I have nothing to do with you. You don't disgust me because I don't think about you." Without warning, her heart dropped a little.
"I see." She lowered her head.
"Now, go away." He motioned for her to leave. "And keep below stairs." She turned and stared, as she began walking away. "And stop gawping!" He threw a towel at her. Oh, he can't see past the feathers, this prince, and he can't see past the fur.
That night was the second ball. Beauties came and beauties went. A dance is a dance, but the prince stood alone, hoping, staring at the great doors. There was nothing; not a sign.
Then, there was a hush. The room divided and there she was, his mystery woman, in a dress sparkling with silver. Like the stars…
They danced all night, and like before, she made to part when the music stopped.
"I must go." Her voice struck a familiar chord with him, but he couldn't place it. He brushed her bangs out of her face.
"Don't. Please." He murmured, clinging to her all the more. "I think of nothing but you." She tried to pull away again.
"I find that hard to believe." Her murmur sounded nearly bitter. Prince Tamaki was stunned.
"It's true. I can't sleep. I can't– " she jerked away and flew out the door. He followed, hoping to catch her.
"Where do you live, so I can find you?" He shouted after her. She turned for no more than a second.
"I live where hens catch mice and cats lay eggs!" Her voice floated back to him; her answer strangely cryptic, yet familiar.
"What?" He yelled, hoping to get a response. None came. His soft plea of "Please, don't go…" went unheard and unheeded.
The next day, Prince Tamaki sat on the front steps, melancholic. Even the sound of bare feet on the pavement couldn't rouse him from his trance.
"What's the matter?" A voice jerked him into awareness.
"What?" He turned and came face to fur covered face with Haruhi. She smiled softly.
"You seem so sad." She pointed out, plunking down buckets full of water. He seemed to return to himself immediately.
"No one in the whole palace, hell, the whole kingdom speaks to me like that!" He stood and rested his arm on the stone wall behind him.
"Are you in love?" she posed, her smile growing. He looked at her peculiarly. "Is that the problem?" He turned away and rested his chin in his hand.
"You couldn't possibly understand what I'm feeling." He reprimanded. She cleared her throat.
"Or are you worried you might only love your sweetheart only for her gowns?" She arched an eyebrow, though he could not see. He straightened.
"Were she in the humblest of rags, were she the poorest of the poor! Absolutely! You see," he lost himself in reminiscence, "my darling has eyes like… Like…" Haruhi grinned, unable to contain herself.
"Yes?" She prompted, urging him to continue.
"Oh," he sighed, "They're… They're perfect! A voice like…" He struggled with finding the right word.
"Mmhmm?" she hummed, prompting him further.
"It's perfect. It's not her gowns. How can you possibly understand?" He resumed his melancholic pose.
"Then you should marry her." Haruhi suggested, stating the obvious. He looked at her sharply.
"I want to. I want to, but I can't find her." He stared at the sky, looking anywhere but at Haruhi.
"I see…" She picked up the buckets of water and reattached them to the wooden shoulder harness. "I… I have a problem like yours. What advice would you give me?" She sought his gaze, he avoided it at all costs.
"Well," he stated, letting out a small chuckle. "I don't know your beaux. What's she like?" Haruhi's eyes widened in disbelief. He still thought she was male!
"Well, he's handsome, rich. He's proud." He gawked at her. "I'm a girl." She elucidated. Tamaki instantly colored, but didn't apologize. He sat down, and she joined him on the step, not waiting for an invitation. "You see, when I think about him, it makes my head hurt, and my tummy ache, and my skin tingle, and my heart do little somersaults..." He finally met her eyes.
"Me too." He voiced. "Me too. We're in love, and it's terrible." He wilted. She frowned.
"Oh, I don't think I'm in love…" Haruhi started. Tamaki interrupted her quickly.
"You definitely are. Little somersaults? Tingling skin? That's definitely love. Definitely." He opened his mouth to say more, but Kyoya's voice rang across the courtyard.
"Straggletag!! Straggletag, where the devil have you got to?!" She stood and ascended the steps.
"I've got to go." She amended. He nodded.
"Yes, and, listen. Don't tell anyone we've talked. It's just… The prince, and…" Kyoya shrieked for her again.
"STRAGGLETAG!" Haruhi chuckled darkly.
"The prince and Straggletag. I get it."
Oh, yes. The prince is lovesick all right. Even before it's dark out on the night of the third ball, he's out there, waiting on the steps outside the ballroom. Tonight, he shivers, I'll see my love tonight.
"She's still not here yet! It's the last one and she still hasn't come!" Hikaru commented, having heard from Hani. Haruhi groaned.
"Can I please have the dishes?" She snapped, up to her elbows in dishwater. Kaoru snickered.
"Ooh, look at this one. What's the hurry?" He handed her a silver tray to wash. "Meeting a sweetheart?" He teased. Hikaru picked up where his brother left off.
"That's why the prince is still waiting!" He dried the tray she handed him and set it aside. "She hasn't finished the dishes!" The twins of the kitchen staff laughed uproariously. Haruhi felt her face burn and was glad her friends couldn't see through the fur disguising her face. Finally, she got away.
Prince Tamaki stood, about to give up and go back inside, when quiet footsteps stopped him. His mystery love stood before him, in a dress as gold as the sun. She smiled gently and held out her hand. He approached her carefully, still disbelieving. They danced on the front steps, though the music wafting outside was muffled. As the last song was fading, he leaned in and rested his forehead against hers. Then, the music stopped, and sadly, he let her go.
As she fled down the flight of stairs, one gold shoe slipped off her foot. Tamaki couldn't believe his eyes. This was his way to see her again! He shifted focus, to catch a last glimpse of his love, but she was already gone. He scurried down the steps and lifted the shoe gently.
The next day, a proclamation was heard throughout the palace. "Prince Tamaki will marry the one whose foot fits the golden slipper!" Haruhi froze when she heard the twins discussing it. The words echoed in her head and she scowled.
So, what was true of the finger is true of the foot. She thought bitterly, resuming her chore. She was cursed by the ring. Could she be blessed by the slipper? Mori came clomping down the stairs.
"There's a queue now!" He reported, "But it fits nobody!" Kaoru stepped around Haruhi.
"I think I might give it a try. You never know." He began climbing the steps. His brother looked at him curiously.
"You?" He questioned. "You've got feet like a Yorkshire pudding! They're huge!" Kaoru glowered, but ascended the steps nonetheless. Hikaru crouched near Haruhi.
"What about you, our little beauty? Are you going to try?" He inquired, honestly curious. Haruhi looked at him out of the corner of her eye.
"I might." She answered honestly. So, up she went. And who does she find, but her sisters? Just like with the ring, Éclair tried the slipper on first. It's too small. Haruhi stepped out from behind the doorway to the kitchen and watched as Mei forced her foot into the slipper.
"If I can just- I think I can get it-" Mei grunted. Finally, her foot slid into the slipper. "Éclair! It fits!" she squealed. Both Tamaki and Haruhi seemed shocked.
"That's absurd." The prince dismissed, standing up from his chair. "You're not her." Mei looked offended.
"I am!" She protested. "It fits! Look!" she pointed at her foot. She waltzed over to Tamaki and hugged him around the waist. "I claim this handsome prince as my husband!" She sang. Tamaki looked around awkwardly. Prince Tamaki's assistant, Ritsu Kasanoda, reminded him of the proclamation.
"Sire, you said you'd marry whoever fit the slipper." He glanced expectantly at the tan girl. Mei leaned towards Kasanoda and told him what he needed.
"Princess Mei, from Far Away. Daughter of Nobody." She raised her voice. "You see, Mummy died a long time ago and Daddy died just last year." Haruhi felt tears prick at her eyes and felt a little guilty. "Now can I take this little shoe off? It doesn't match and it's a teensy-weensy bit too small." She squeaked. Tamaki rolled his eyes. Mei limped to her sister.
"Éclair, get this thing off of me!!" she yowled, thrusting her foot at her sister. Éclair yanked the shoe off and flung it back at Kasanoda. Tamaki sighed in relief. The shoe had been too small for that monster. Haruhi took this as her chance to step fully into the room.
"Sire," she called, obediently keeping her gaze to the floor. "I'd like to claim my right to try the slipper." Haruhi's appearance threw her sisters into a tizzy. Éclair rustled her skirt at Haruhi.
"Eww! Get away, get! Get!" She shrieked. The familiar gesture pained Haruhi. Tamaki nodded blankly, and Haruhi approached the slipper's resting place. "Ladies, darling. Not creatures. Eugh, what is it?" Tamaki shot a quick glare at the sisters.
"They call her the Straggletag." He leveled his gaze at Haruhi, who dropped her eyes to the ground.
"May I?" She asked, waiting. He motioned to her to go ahead. She slipped her foot easily into the shoe. It was a perfect fit. Her sisters were skeptical.
"It fits!" Mei sounded disgusted. "It can't be possible!" Haruhi looked Prince Tamaki in the face.
"It does fit." She didn't sound at all surprised. "Will you keep your promise, Sire?" Tamaki looked dazed. Éclair and Mei dashed behind Kasanoda as Haruhi approached the prince.
"You can't marry that… That thing!" Éclair objected. Tamaki stepped towards Haruhi, past her sisters.
"Yes. I'll marry you. I'll keep my promise." He couldn't keep his eyes off of Haruhi.
As soon as those words left his mouth, animals of all shapes and sizes came in through the doors and windows, surrounding Haruhi. They landed on her or climbed onto her and picked, picked, picked at the fur and feathers. Tamaki made to shoo them away, but a feeling in the back of his head told him not to.
Soon enough, the animals parted ways with Haruhi, leaving Prince Tamaki's mystery love in her place. It clicked in his mind that it was her, and the smile that spread across the prince's face was one that the inhabitants of the palace had not seen in weeks. It threatened to split his face, and seemed to light the room better than any candle ever could. Mei and Éclair were instantly at her side, looking her up and down.
"Haruhi!" They scoffed, and flounced away. Tamaki drew near to her and embraced her.
"My princess…" he sighed in her ear. "It's you!" He kissed her soundly.
"Darling, darling…" They crooned to each other. "Dearest, dearest…" Now, what the prince didn't know, he very soon did. They talked and talked, explaining this, explaining that. Stories of rings, stories of fur and feathers. They wept for her dear father, they smiled for the Straggletag, forgave Mei and Éclair, and they danced a day with out going away.
~~
"…And after all that, they were so exhausted they lay down and slept, and glory be, if I don't wake them soon, they'll never be wed!" – The Storyteller, Sapsorrow.
The End