Princess Tutu © Itou Ikuko and Hal Film Maker, I'm just borrowing the characters for the enjoyment of myself and others.

Huge round of thanks for everyone that has reviewed or added this to their favourite or alerts! It makes me feel warm and fuzzy and I usually flail wave my hands around like an excited kid instead of a respectable, old 20-something.


Mortifying Research


Fakir wasn't sure which would have been more embarrassing, reading up on human maturity and sexuality or reading the clinical analysis of the duck equivalents in the zoology books spread before him on his isolated table in the library. It was his third day in a row of trying to research ducks; his first had been a complete flop as he struggled to even find the proper books that would give him the information he needed. He knew he could have brought these back home with him instead of holing up here where Ahiru couldn't join him, but he was too uncomfortable. He had been blushing nonstop since the moment he started reading today.

His cheeks brightened to a luminescent red as he read about drake behavior; a line about having too many drakes to hens in a group leading to over-mating and potentially starving the hens had him particularly horrified. Ahiru had so far not mingled with any of the other ducks that frequented their pond, but that didn't mean they hadn't looked upon her with curiosity, that strange intruder that appeared with the human boy each day.

What if… what if she wanted to be a normal duck? What if she wanted to mate and lay eggs and migrate and eat bugs and a whole host of other things that Fakir had never stopped to think about?

Charon's theory about her age and her feather loss seemed correct, which didn't surprise him since Ahiru had basically confirmed it herself. That meant it wouldn't be long before she started to grow her glossy, full adult feathers and she completely finished growing.

From there it would only be a matter of time until… until…

Fakir pounded his head on the desk and ignored Autor's complaint from the lower level.

This is not happening to me.

It would only be a matter of time until she was ready to find a mate and begin laying eggs, which seemed to be an extremely large focus of a duck's life, from what he could tell. She… she would be courted by a drake and… and build a nest and mate and lay eggs and protect them and… and he would lose her.

His ears burned with shame as he felt his blush spread and realized he was jealous of a hypothetical duck that may or may not ever try to mate with her.

Why was this all so screwed up?

…and why could he not stop focusing on the concept of reproduction‽

If he thought the words 'mate' and 'eggs' one more time….

He made a fist and hit his own leg in frustration.

He tried to calm himself. He didn't even know if she wanted those things! On the other hand, she might not want them, but could be called to it by instinct anyway… How much of her human heart had been her own natural gift, and how much was caused by Drosselmeyer's meddling in his search for a tragedy? Would she become more duck-like with time and age? Was it fair for him to not want that? Did she want that?

So far, she had seemed extremely content with eating the food he and Charon prepared for her, whether it was breads, or fish, or thick beef broths filled with protein and vegetables, so he tried to take that as a good sign. The thought of her foraging for insects or eating pond grasses made him a little nauseous. Thinking hard, he realized that aside from swimming, she seemed incredibly un-duck like, ironically.

But even if she wanted to stay by his side forever, a reciprocation of his own words to her, and never felt the pull to truly be a duck, he still would lose her. It would take longer, but sure enough, she would be gone from his life far sooner than he cared to think about.

Discovering her short life expectancy had been like drenching himself in ice water, from the way it had sent a chill down his spine.

Assuming she was healthy and no accidents or predators got to her when he wasn't there to protect her, Fakir would still only have a few years with her in comparison to his own life.

It was a sobering realization, and it made his scar itch with an urge to lift his quill and fight her fate. Was it fair to try and protect her from her own natural mortality?

He groaned quietly and buried his face in his hands. Guys his age were supposed to shower attention on pretty girls and try to steal kisses, even if he'd never wanted to himself, and instead he was stuck debating the morality of altering the fate of the awkward duckling girl that he loved and couldn't forget if he tried.

Really, this was beyond screwed up.

Life would have been so much easier, trapped still within the stagnant story. If only she had never–

No. He wouldn't trade Rue and Siegfried's happiness, or any of his precious memories of Ahiru, for anything, even simplicity and not knowing the pain and fear that clenched his heart now. Falling in love with that clumsy, loud, freckled bundle of energy was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Shaking the thoughts away, he looked down at his scrawled notes, things he'd jotted down to try and talk about with Charon, if not with Ahiru herself. The notion of trying to have a one-sided conversation with her about the things he'd discovered was daunting at best, and downright humiliating at worst.

This was way weirder than asking his father about sex would have ever been.