A/N: I don't really ship Fakir X Rue, but I've always thought they had an interesting dynamic. This fic is compatible with the official story; it just adds a few things. Also, in the first part, Fakir doesn't know he's the knight because his parents haven't been killed yet and he didn't learn about his role until after he came to live with Charon.
He was eight and she was almost six when she kissed him for the first time. It lasted only a moment. Before he had a chance to react she pulled away and plopped down onto the grass.
"That was bad of me," she said wistfully.
"Why?" he asked at last.
She sighed. "Because I'm s'posed to only love the prince and he's s'posed to love me and that's all. But I don't know where the prince is and I like you."
"Well... he could still come. There's still time."
She thumped the ground with one plump leg and pouted. "But I don't want him to," she said.
Finally he sat down beside her. "But you need him, right? That's what you told me." He had yet to learn of his own connection to the prince, but she had explained hers.
She shook her head. "But I want you. If the prince comes, I'll have to love him. Not you. Do you really still want him to come?"
"Yes," he said immediately. "I want him to come."
She did not shout, or cry, or even frown—because she knew him. "Do you want me to leave you?"
"No," he said, again without hesitation.
She stared into his deep green eyes. "Do you love me?"
There was a long silence, and then he said, "Yes."
Three months and two childish kisses later, the prince came.
He was fifteen and she was thirteen when she kissed him for the fourth time. It was as much of a surprise to him as her first kiss had been. Before she had a chance to try turning it into an "adult" kiss, he pulled away roughly.
"What the hell was that for?" he asked.
"I'm Mytho's girlfriend now," she said. "Everything went according to plan. But it's not as great as I thought it would be."
"What did you expect? He doesn't have a heart."
She sighed. "I know, but... He's a prince from a fairytale. He was supposed to fall madly in love with me and sweep me off my feet. I... was supposed to be happy."
"Good luck with that," he said, but the harshness in his voice faltered.
She leaned against the window frame and gazed at the sky. His eyes followed her body instead of her gaze. "Do you ever wish that things were different?" she asked wistfully.
"Never," he said immediately. "This is how it has to be."
She did not shout, or cry, or even frown—because she still knew him. "Do you miss me?"
"Yes," he said, with only a moment's hesitation.
She stared into his deep green eyes. "Will you kiss me again?"
There was a long silence while he answered her clumsily but thoroughly.
Two years and countless kisses later, Princess Tutu appeared.
He was seventeen and she was fifteen when she kissed him for the last time. Her lips lingered for a long time, but only on his cheek. They pulled away at the same moment, as if by agreement.
"Thank you," she said softly, and she meant for everything.
"Congratulations," he said, and his voice was husky and low.
"I'm finally marrying the prince," she said wonderingly. "I love him so much. This is exactly how it was supposed to be."
"I'm glad."
"We have to leave soon," she said wistfully. "I'm really going to be a princess. And I don't think we'll be coming back here. I don't know if we can."
"Well..." He took one of her hands in both of his. "If you ever do come back, you're both welcome in our house anytime."
"Both?" she questioned.
He nodded, but said nothing.
"Are you sad that I'm going to marry him?" she asked.
"No," he said immediately. "This is how it ends."
She did not shout, or cry, or even frown—because even now she still knew him. "Do you want me to leave you?"
"No," he said, again without hesitation.
She stared into his deep green eyes. "Do you still love me?"
He stared back into her shining red eyes for a very long time. "No," he said at last.
They never saw each other again.