Duck let out a tired sigh, trying to hold back her umpteenth yawn and look alive. Fakir was sitting in his usual chair on the dock, writing at the little wooden desk he'd brought out months ago. When the little bird couldn't avoid yawning once more, he looked down at her, annoyed.

"You were the one who asked me to stay out here," he told her, unappreciative and unapproving. "If you were really that tired, you should have gone to sleep earlier."

Duck lowered her head, looking down at the water under her. Sure, she was tired, but she loved the time that they spent out by the water, where Fakir could write all he wanted in the peace of the little pond and the surrounding trees. She knew how much he still loved to write, and she wanted to be able to give him that. It wasn't as though she could do much else for him now that she was stuck as a duck.

Fakir watched her with something close to exasperation as she thought sleepily. He was still a knight, she thought. Even though that was all originally a part of Drosselmeyer's story, it was true. He had protected Mytho as much as he could, and he wrote to protect her when she tried her best to help the prince, too. And even now, he was protecting her, staying with her. Even know, he was being her knight in shining armor... hidden behind his sharp tongue and mean words, as usual.

"Honestly," he muttered, standing and starting to put his things away. "Are you falling asleep now? Come on, let's get you out of there before you become the first duck to drown. Knowing you, it could happen."

Fakir plucked her out of the water and wrapped her in a small, warm towel, eliciting a surprised quack from the little avian. The knight closed his books and slipped them into his bag, then tossed in his pens and raised the strap to his shoulder. It was warm there, nestled in the crook of Fakir's arm and wrapped up in the little towel. Lulled to sleep by the gentle cadence of his steps, Duck began to dream of days gone by filled with magic and secrets and lots and lots of ballet.

"If you were going to make me come back early, you shouldn't have insisted on going at all," Fakir was grumbling, not aware that the little bird had drifted off. "I hardly got anything written, and now that I've been interrupted, I doubt I can easily get back on tra-" He looked down at her, noticing now how... unconscious she was.

He smiled to himself, looking ahead once more. So far the little duck had proven to be quite a bit of trouble, despite the short amount of time they'd spent here and how small she was. She'd gotten herself lost a number of times, and once had nearly gotten herself killed and sold by a local butcher. That had been a little too close for comfort.

In relative silence, Fakir brought Duck back to his place. At first, she'd lived by the pond, but soon she got too scared and lonely to stay there by herself. Besides, after the kinds of trouble she always got herself into, he wasn't sure he felt leaving her there to her own devices would be a good idea.

Back at the house, he set her in a basket next to the couch in the living room before sitting on the couch and, before long, laying down. It was... peaceful, now. Well, now that Drosselmeyer had gone and left them alone, now that they'd stopped his story. And now he was happy, living day by day with Duck as they each figured out what they would do from now on. Since their future and story wasn't being decided for them anymore, they would decide it for themselves.

I could live like this, he thought to himself as he drifted off to sleep. Together forever with that clumsy idiot.