Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or plot of Princess Tutu.
AN: I was listening to the entire Nutcracker suite when I wrote this before watching the ballet. That was great inspiration.
Ever a Commoner
The way she saw it- the way she would always see it- Mytho was a king, a kind and gentle king, the kind of person everyone loves and wants to be like. Rue was his queen, tall and graceful, with an open heart that welcomed all. And she would- she could- never compare. Her beauty was much deeper than skin and hidden beneath a pale, lifeless shell.
Princess Tutu.
She was not Princess Tutu. Princess Tutu had her heart, a gem with a sparkling, poised, graceful body. Princess Tutu was as beautiful outside as her heart was.
Ahiru was a bird. A bird with a so-strangely-human heart.
Princess Tutu was a clock, her heart ticking faster than she knew, time quite so limited. She was the dying star, eventually going to break into a million tiny lights out to the far reaches of the earth. (What was earth to her? All she knew was Kinkan.)
Or was she just one spark, was the brimming light just the image?
Surely, yes, Princess Tutu was the star. The heart was so small in truth, inflated immensely with her love with her prince. Princess Tutu was a lie. Princess Tutu had always been a lie, a figment of her own cracked imagination.
No, maybe, in hindsight, it was infatuation, thick and layered, the ocean on top of her and she was drowning in it.
Was she like every other? What made her special? He knew. He knew and he wouldn't tell her, he knew and yet didn't have the strength to tell her. Pride was his friend, and she would never forget that, but oh, how she would forgive him if he said it, oh what could it have been?
The Knight was too selfless. She was far too selfless to admit it to herself. She loved, oh forget infatuation, this was beyond that, she loved the Prince with every speck of light that made her up, as a friend and a person, and God if he didn't love her, too. Honestly, the boy could have said anything and she would still be here like it is, Mytho would still be safe, and he and his Queen would still be together in eternal happiness.
Maybe he would have said it eventually, maybe a whisper to the ear, maybe a small word on paper like he so often wrote, if only she could see his writings. He knew all too well about her. Her every feeling, every memory, every want and every single God-forsaken need.
He didn't tell her. Maybe he still could someday. Maybe, eventually, please someday, he prayed, she would be there again and he could tell her. Maybe the Knight could tell her and she could finally live the happy ending she deserved.
He knew her. He knew the Princess like he didn't know himself, like she knew him.
He knew why she was different, and he wrote it a million times, a million different times because it plagued him.
She loved. She loved the Prince, the new King. She loved him like his Queen never could, in his heart and his mind, his soul was so etched into her now it held hers inside it. She was always ready to see the best in people, she always knew it was there and God- she had his when he didn't realize it existed.
The way she saw it- the way she would always see it- there was a King and a Queen and a selfishly-selfless knight. Then there was her. She might pretend she was a princess, but she was not the Princess, she was a commoner. She was a great, good commoner, but a commoner. Simply a commoner.
The way they saw- the way they would all, always see it- they were characters and she, oh she, she was the lead. She was the leap of faith, the catch of inspiration, the light of hope and the dream of love. She was a Princess to them.
Maybe he could tell her that someday. Maybe he could tell her-that he knew her.
That he loved her.