Mistake

These parties always feel like the wrong place. Fakir never really saw the point, throwing a party for every book released. Becoming published was certainly exciting but not the sort of exciting he cared for.

Bringing Ahiru along to one of these shindigs didn't seem right. He'd never brought her before but she insisted on being there with him to celebrate the film serials planned based on his latest anthology.

Fakir watches her mingle, not bothering to sip the provided champagne. He could feel his face flush from Ahiru gushing about how great his writing is and how he's a great danseur as well and how she's so happy to be with him or what this or that person is up to and it's amazing that so many talented people could be together in just one place.

But then it happened.

"And what are you doing here with your mindless chatter?"

"What have you done that makes you worth being here?"

"How a brilliant mind like his can put up with a nattering fool like you is beyond me."

"She's just a frail little ballerina. She isn't even very good."

"You're a mistake."

The dull clink of a champagne flute hitting the carpeted floor is barely heard. Just before Ahiru could succumb to the tears burning hot in the corners of her eyes, she feels Fakir's strong hands on her shoulders.

"How dare you," he growls just over her shoulder to her accusers. "You have no idea who she is, what she's done for you. For all of us. How dare you forget."

"Fakir, it's okay," she softly protest.

"No," he says, giving one shoulder a gentle squeeze. "It's not okay."

Fakir lets Ahiru go and steps away. She and the group hurling their abuse are left confused and quiet as he steps to the front of the room. He turns to address those gathered, his voice commanding all attention.

"Once upon a time..."

The silence blankets the room slowly as Fakir speaks, the master of his craft spinning a story right then and there for those lucky ones present. Some of it sounded familiar, the idea of a duck transforming into a girl because she was in love with a prince nothing new to his avid readers. But new details appear in his words. The once-cold knight fated to die finds new purpose, the princess who was also a duck bringing him hope he never knew before. She accepts everything and everyone, even the one who tried to hurt her with his cowardice. And it's her brilliant hope that freed them all.

"...but no one except the duck who became a ballerina and the knight who became a writer remembered. No one else knew that it was a little duck who saved them from the darkness of the Raven, a little duck who never asked for anything for herself, who took on every burden ever placed on her and smiled all the same. And nothing about her is a mistake."

Fakir strides through the crowd even as the group around Ahiru laughs at him. He takes her hand and begins to pull her with him, more than ready to leave.

"He's just as crazy as her," one of them quips, not even waiting to talk about them behind their backs.

"I'd rather be crazy with Ahiru than sane with you amnesiacs," Fakir doesn't hesitate to toss back on their way out.

Fakir sits on the steps leading to the lush courtyard, Ahiru standing behind him.

"I'm so sorry-" she starts before Fakir pulls her down to sit with him.

"Don't be," he murmurs to her, drawing her close with his arm. "I'm sorry they said such horrible things to you."

"But your writing-"

"There are more important things."

They sit there a while, Fakir's fingers softly trailing up and down Ahiru's bare arm.

"You know, this is still technically a celebration for me," Fakir comments. "We don't have to go back inside but we don't have to leave the courtyard, either."

"It is really nice out here..." Ahiru says.

She then leans down and takes her shoes off, holding up the skirt of her gown so the hem isn't soaked by the evening dew as she lets her bare feet explore the grass. Fakir smiles, his first genuine smile of the night, before his own shoes are placed next to hers and he joins her.

What began as a stroll soon has a bump of Ahiru into Fakir. Not to be outdone, he nudges her back with his elbow. A playful shove from her follows and escalates into a game of tag, ending only when Ahiru finally tackles Fakir and they both topple to the ground. Content there, they lie side by side in the yard, looking up at what stars they could see in the night sky.

"I'm glad you're here with me," Fakir tells her only to see Ahiru had fallen asleep.

He sits up, brushing the grass off of himself and ignoring the grass stains on his fine suit before doing the same for Ahiru. Fakir carefully gathers her in his arms, leaving their shoes behind as they depart the worst and the best party he's attended.