Princess Tutu: Chapter of the Duck
For Notes and Program Notes, see Chapter 1; for Disclaimer, see end
Akt 2: Reflections on Nature
A few days later Fakir looked out of the rain- spattered window, down to where Duck was bathing in the fishpond.
"I've been checking for the past twelve months," he said. "Do you remember the animals? The walking and talking beasts? When the Raven died and the enchantment broke they went back to their proper forms. Our pianist isn't a penguin anymore, and I could swear I saw Mr. Cat last week. He was teaching half- grown kittens how to stalk. All the talking animals were transformed one way or the other. But there is one, and only one, instance I could find of a human vanishing."
"Duck's."
"Yes." Fakir turned from the window to face his friend. "Not Princess Tutu; we know how that was done. She told me once how she got involved. She saw you were lonely and wanted to help you, to make you smile, and Drosselmeyer offered her the role of Princess Tutu. I think, if that hadn't happened, that she would have stayed just a duck. But I can't be sure she would have been an intelligent animal. She doesn't remember anything much before you and Drosselmeyer."
"Her real nature is a duck, Fakir. It still is. In hindsight, it was even when she was a girl– she always acted quite a bit like a duckling."
"You're half right. We all were, including Duck; once I found out she never claimed otherwise, and at the end I told her so myself. But– at the beginning, when she accepted the role, she was a duck. Now she's a duck that remembers how to be human, who wanted to be human, and she doesn't know all she needs to know about being a duck, like how to survive a molt or be accepted into a flock. Her true nature now isn't so simple.
"Most of your heart shards found people and things that were vulnerable to certain emotions, and intensified those feelings. The part of you that is Princess Tutu is the part that made it possible to survive shattering your heart, and was able to put it back together. Am I right?"
"Mostly. There's more to it."
"But that's part of it. What does it say about Duck that, when in contact with a heart shard, she turned into a girl? The duckling could have transformed into Princess Tutu just as well. She did, a few times."
"But a duckling couldn't have done everything that a human could."
"Fakir– have you tried writing about her? Making her change, or keeping her as she was?" asked Rue.
"No. Not since the battle." He looked again out over the town, without seeing it. "I need to know more. Influencing memories and even human events is one thing; stories do that all the time, not just Drosselmeyer's or mine. Altering someone living– I don't know if I could, or should. I'd like to be able to hear her again though, and let her dance." He faced them squarely. "I haven't tried to write her as anything different from how she was the day you left, either as a duck or a human. I haven't really put down anything about her at all, except what has already happened."
"Good," Rue said. "There could have been serious trouble if you had tried to change anything about her, because there's something else not right. She was a yellow duckling until a few weeks ago, correct? Half- grown?"
"Yes."
"Fakir, didn't you ever learn anything about normal birds? She's been a duckling since this all began, well over a year ago. A hatchling in spring is grown by the autumn. You should have seen it happen last year. There's something very wrong with her. Maybe not anything bad or unhealthy for her, but not normal for a duck."
"I knew she should have molted last fall," said Fakir, defending himself. "I know I should have recognized what was happening sooner. But I'd told her that if she felt anything like that, she should stay in the house and tell me. I suppose she panicked. But anyway– maybe she's growing up at the same rate as a human?"
"Maybe. Slower than a duck should, certainly."
"What do we tell her?" Fakir's quiet question broke the silence that had fallen.
"I don't know," said the Prince. "Perhaps she can answer some of our questions herself."
Duck had shaken herself off and allowed Fakir to carry her upstairs– she thought flying indoors might be impolite, and waddling up a staircase was impossible. The Prince had asked most courteously for her time, and she had of course agreed. It was tiring though; wings weren't really made for pointing, and using her bill gave her a headache from eyestrain. They asked her a lot of questions that Fakir had asked over the past year, in ways that needed detailed answers: what did she remember before Drosselmeyer talked to her? Nothing, really. No, nothing like the thoughts she'd had upon seeing the Prince; swimming and eating, she supposed. No, nothing of her duck mother or the rest of her brood. What did the other ducks at the lake think of her? They didn't like her and never let her get close. They were worse since she went there to molt. Other birds? There was still the flock of songbirds at the Academy who would come to greet her, especially if Fakir brought bread. What did they talk about? Same as ever, mostly food, weather, sometimes eggs or nestlings or nest- building. Nice but not really smart. Was she happy?
She hadn't wanted to answer. She was well cared for, all her friends were here talking with her, Fakir had been wonderful as had been a puzzled Charon; but....
The Prince, she felt, was able to see through any evasion she might try, so nothing but an honest answer would do.
"EVRYBODY IS VERY GOOD TO ME. I LIKE TO BE HERE WITH EVRYBODY LIKE THIS. I LIKE FLYING. BUT JUST A DUCK. REMEBER TALKING AND DANCNG."
Fakir had to turn away.
It was Rue who found words. "Whatever else you may be, you have never been 'just a duck,'" she said firmly.
"I wish I had Drosselmeyer here," growled Fakir in a thick voice.
"YOUD HIT HIM."
"Just as hard as I could."
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