Disclaimer: I do not own Princess Tutu!
:: Chapter 9: Grandmother's Whereabouts ::
Ahiru and Fakir had been trudging along the muddy path for more than an hour. Neither had said much as they both wanted to keep their energy for whatever was coming next. Ahiru had changed into something a little more appropriate; after all, the supposed whereabouts of her grandmother were located in the mountains near Verona, which required a little hiking. So, here she was, in men's pants and a tunic, and she felt oddly exposed.
She felt lucky that she was with Fakir, who had been so kind to her. He had not said a word about her attire, and Ahiru was glad about it. She really didn't need disapproving looks about how she looked.
"Do you believe she'll—um, well, be there?" Ahiru mumbled, breathing heavily because they had been walking for such a long time over rough hills. She realized that it was a silly question to ask. How could Fakir even predict such a thing? But she was anxious about meeting a new- found member of her family, and she did not want anything to go wrong.
"I don't know..." Fakir sighed, and he seemed to hesitate, knowing the girl needed reassurance. "She might. I really hope that we can meet her, so that she can maybe forgive my family."
"Come again?" asked a puzzled Ahiru. She had not been expecting such a sentiment. But, in a general sense, it did make sense. She had to quit being so oblivious to things around her. It was not always about her. Fakir had his own problems too.
"Well, if I do meet her, I want to be able to say 'sorry' on behalf of my family," Fakir explained. "Your family never deserved what they went through..." A smile touched the corners of Ahiru's lips. He had good intentions.
"That's very noble of you," she said. "I think she will accept that."
Fakir laughed, sounding bitter. "You're very naive. Personally, I don't see why she would."
"I'm not naive!" Ahiru muttered, and Fakir smirked. It was getting hard to continue to walk and talk at the same time. She was panting heavily and needed all her breath. "Please...could we stop for just a minute?"
She must have looked so silly. Fakir sighed and nodded. "So slow."
Ahiru's eyes narrowed at him as her mouth began to form a grimace. "I don't understand you, Fakir. One moment you're just so nice and kind and open to people, and the next you're rude and arrogant and hpmmps-!" Her sentence was blocked when Fakir threw a blanket in her face.
"Quit rambling so much, and rest yourself for a bit. Or I'll be going on without you." He seemed embarrassed, and he looked away. Ahiru glared at him with frustration. Sometimes, she didn't understand what his true intentions were. He was so sweet at times, and at other times, he infuriated her so much.
But then again, she could be pretty exasperating herself.
After that stop, they continued to walk silently, both exhausted, until they arrived at a small, obscure village. '"Village" is an exaggeration,' thought Ahiru. This 'village' had barely five houses, which were mostly in ruins and appeared deserted.
"We should start looking," Fakir proposed as they began by knocking on the first door. No response. Fakir pushed the door lightly, and it creaked open. The smell of dirt pervaded the room. It was dark, filthy and oddly peaceful. "No one has lived here for a while," Fakir observed.
"Perhaps—um, we should try another house?" Ahiru proposed sheepishly.
Fakir nodded. "Yes, let's."
However, Fakir headed out first while Ahiru examined the room a little further. This had been a place where a family had settled, where people grew and loved one another. This house brought a strange sense of peace to her, as if this little dwelling was a shelter from the outside world.
She headed out, following Fakir's footsteps.
They went to the next house. And the next. And each one had the same aura: lost, mesmerizing and nostalgic. Ahiru made a little tale in her mind, where she imagined the children playing around, running back to their loving mothers.
At last, they arrived at the fourth house. Again, Fakir knocked. This time, the door was locked.
"Hello? Is anyone here?" Ahiru called, concerned.
She heard footsteps on the creaking wood. The girl suddenly stepped back, aware that she might not be welcome at all. She felt Fakir hold her arm, as if he were going to pull her backwards. She glanced at him, nervous. He didn't stare back, but simply pressed her arm to tell her it would be all right. Then, the door slammed open violently. Ahiru gulped, pushing Fakir back. He tensed up.
An old lady who looked absolutely mad stared at them. With her curly, bushy grey hair and her unnaturally blue eyes that did not look straight ahead, she appeared almost fantastical. "Yes?" she croaked.
Ahiru's expression grew puzzled, unaware how suspicious this made her look. She was perplexed. Could this really be her grandmother? The lady looked...strange. She felt no warm feelings as she had expected to feel. She felt nothing at all. The old woman just looked messy. Surely no lady of noble blood would be dressed in...such a manner. But then again, who was she to judge?
"We are looking for...Henriette Capulesia," Fakir whispered, and in his tone, Ahiru could hear that he was just as confused as she was.
"Oh," the woman squealed. "And who might you be, to be looking for her?"
"So, she's not you? Thank god!" Ahiru asked, a little relieved. The woman's blue eyes glanced at the girl as she began to grit her teeth angrily.
"Be quiet, you!" she spat. "I thought I asked a question."
"She is Ahiru Capulesia, daughter of Flora and Federico Capulesia, and you will show her some respect!" Fakir growled. The lady's eyes went from him to Ahiru, scrutinizing her from head to toe. They both gulped, unsure what to say next. Ahiru wondered where Fakir got such an idea, to start criticizing an old lady like that. Was this really the smartest way? She realized it wasn't when she saw how annoyed he was at himself.
"Please...She's the only family I have left. I am just trying to find my kin," Ahiru explained, after a long and awkward moment of silence.
"Alright," the lady agreed. "But he can't come." Her tone was bitter, disgusted and revolted.
"But—" Ahiru began, very aware she may be stepping over some boundaries.
"You really take me for some fool? You think I cannot recognize the Montecchi's seal on his sword?" she screeched. "I do not trust a Montecchi. And why do you have the seal on that necklace of yours if you're a Capulesia?"
Fakir seemed embarrassed, as he tried to hide his sword. The sword itself was plain, but it was the leather that protected the weapon that gave it away: it was a high quality leather, and a small emblem of a rose was hand-tooled into it. Surely he should have thought of that before.
"My necklace is a protection. And he is a good man," Ahiru insisted, not wanting to leave Fakir behind. He, too, had come for a reason. He should not be left out like this!
"Hmph, a good man with a foul name then."
Ahiru glanced at Fakir, unsure of what she was supposed to do. She didn't want to leave him all alone...Fakir smiled reassuringly and pushed her toward the old woman. Fakir did not seem to mind very much, and though Ahiru did not want to leave him behind, she was too eager to meet her grandmother.
'Curiosity killed the cat, as they say,' she thought, biting her lips.
"Very well. Follow me," the lady said, her firm voice snapping Ahiru out of her thoughts.
So Ahiru did, reluctantly leaving her friend behind. The inside of the house was dusty and the smell that rose in the air was antique; however, it was a reassuring smell to the girl because it reminded her of books locked away in a big library: Uncle's library.
The woman led her to a door, on which she knocked on few times. "Ma'am, there is the child claiming to be your granddaughter. She came with a Montecchi. She's just behind me," she said. Ahiru wanted to giggle, because it sounded so very false. She wondered if her grandmother would think the same.
There was a long, awkward pause in which Ahiru just fidgeted with her hands.
"Let her in," a voice full of pride ordered. The woman nodded in the girl's direction and gently opened the door, letting Ahiru step in first. Ahiru marveled at the inside. Unlike the rest of the house, this bedroom was decorated in a simple but elegant manner.
Then, she saw Henriette Capulesia. The old woman rose from a chair, her back facing Ahiru. The girl frowned, waiting to see the face of this stranger. She wore a long, laced blue cotton dress that was old-fashioned but pretty. She had long, grey hair that fell in a cascade of silver straight down her back.
Then, she finally turned around. Her expression had no curiosity in it whatsoever, and she looked at the girl with an almost cold air. She seemed to wait for something.
Ahiru blushed, embarrassed as she looked away. She curtsied quickly. "Oh—um, hello, Milady. I am Ahiru...Capulesia," she whispered, gulping. Was this too much? Had she already triggered the disgust of her grandmother?
"Rise, child," Henriette said in a serious manner. Ahiru did, and blue eyes met green ones. "You look like your mother. Even dressed like her." It was almost an accusation. Ahiru glanced at her manly attire, confused.
"Um, I—" She looked away, embarrassed. She was losing control of her speech; if ever she had any.
"And you are just as talented with words as she was," she added sharply, wounding Ahiru a bit more than the girl had expected. Ahiru bit her lip. "So, why are you here?"
Ahiru took a deep breath. She had convinced herself that her family would be of a most agreeable nature, but this seemed not to be the case. "I...thought meeting you would—" she hesitated. What exactly did she feel? "I thought it would enlighten me." Yes, how clever. Going with big words.
Henriette laughed coldly. "Thought I'd take you in because you share some of my blood?" She turned away from her granddaughter to toy with some ornaments.
Ahiru sighed. "I just... thought you'd be something...more." Her tone was full of sorrow, betrayed by the high expectations she had set for herself. She knew it wasn't really fair. Maybe Henriette Capulesia was just playing with her and deep down, she was a good woman. In fact, looking in those dazzling eyes, Ahiru was sure there was goodness in her. However, her expectations were crushed, and there was no going back.
Henriette laughed again, but said nothing.
"I am...sorry." Ahiru looked down. "I did not know you felt like this about me."
"Child, I did not even know you still existed until recently," she said. This, for some unknown reason, gave a little hope to Ahiru. She hoped that perhaps Henriette just hadn't fully acknowledged her existence, and that all she needed was a little time.
Ahiru frowned. "Oh?"
"I learned about you when my trusted friend, Philip Ord, stole your pendant."
Ahiru gasped. "You have it? You must give it back to me!" she said bluntly. She never meant it as an order, of course, but it was the only precious object she owned. She closed her eyes, awaiting a slap of some form. Never, in all her life, had she addressed a superior in such a manner. Well, maybe Fakir, but she had come to respect him. Henriette, on the other hand, she did not respect yet. Therefore, she knew she was toying with danger.
"I must, I must?" she scoffed. "Are you going to order me around, child?" Lady Henriette turned around, scrutinizing her with arrogant eyes. Ahiru shook her head. "Here it is." She threw the pendant swiftly. Ahiru did not catch it and heard it echo as it clattered on the stone floor. She sighed, picking it up and looked at her grandmother's stare.
"You are pretty, I suppose. You have your father's hair," she said, turning away again. Ahiru rose up, a smile appearing on her face. Was this the first bond that she had read so much about?
"Really?" Ahiru asked, mesmerized by this new piece of information. Her tone was a little too excited. "Could you tell me more about him?"
Henriette looked at the girl once again, suddenly curious. "He was my dear son. His name was Federico Capulesia. He was an intelligent, handsome man. He was a fair man, with good morals and particular talents with swords and music. He was raised in a good, proper way. However, he betrayed me and thus broke my heart when he married your mother," she said spitefully. "I swore never to say a good word about him after that...but I suppose my heart has changed over the years since his death."
There was a moment of silence. Ahiru smiled. Henriette Capulesia wanted to appear as an arrogant woman, but deep down, she still cared for her son. Maybe she even liked Ahiru's mother, at one point.
"Why do you hate my mother?" Ahiru said quietly. Henriette looked at her coldly.
"She was nothing but a low-life, an attention-seeking girl! Don't think she was something grand," she said as she shook her head, "because she really was not!"
Ahiru returned her stare defiantly, looking horrified. "How can you say something like that! Your son...my dad," it felt so strange to say that word, "loved that woman. I may not have known her but...if you trusted your son's good judgement, then she must have been good." Of course, this was untrue. How could she know such a thing? But the picture in her pendant told her better.
"And how would you know, child?" She began to raise her voice.
The girl shook her head. "Why do you bear so much hatred? It will prevent you from ever making peace with the Montecchi household..." And then, as soon as she had said that, she knew it had been a mistake. She stopped herself, horror-struck as she gasped a bit.
"Make peace with them? Are you mad?" Henriette shot her a furious glare. Ahiru shook her head in disbelief. What was wrong with both these families? "You think I would forgive the family who murdered my son? Who murdered my husband? " Her voice was louder and more imposing than ever.
"It's not about forgiving them but about allowing yourself to move on!"
"Are you mad?"
She laughed, "I might be." She paused, unsure of what to say. "There is no use dwelling on this feud, on the past...Besides, I've met them and they are not all that bad—" Ahiru began, mumbling.
"So, the man who is with you, is he your lover?" She barked, frowning and crossing her arms over her chest. Ahiru blinked, flushing scarlet.
"What?"
"A man does not follow a woman everywhere like that. Since he's a Montecchi, he is probably toying with you and using you. Beware, he will ridicule you before this story reaches the end."
"Don't talk like that about Fakir!" Ahiru shot back, gritting her teeth. She wouldn't believe.
"Oh dear," the grandmother sighed, "You really are hopeless, acting so lovestruck. These emotions don't belong here, girl. Now get out!" She was not looking at her granddaughter anymore, as if she was ashamed of having talked to her. Ahiru was heart-broken. She had gone too far. As usual, "You're a disgrace."
The elderly maid quickly entered and grabbed Ahiru by the shoulders. Ahiru looked at her grandmother, hurt. She was about to object when the shrieks of Henriette intensified.
"Come," the maid croaked, dragging the girl outside. She opened the door and Ahiru was almost blinded by the light.
"Please...tell her I am sorry, I just meant—" The girl tried to explain, but again, she found herself at a loss for words. She hated this feeling.
"I believe you have done enough."
And then, the door slammed shut, sealing her family away forever. Ahiru stared at the wooden door with an urge to strike it, but she was too sad for that. She was so foolish. She stared at the door for a minute or two, until she remembered she was not completely alone.
"Ahiru?" Fakir's hoarse voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She turned around, angry and grief-stricken. "So?" he pressed. He had probably heard the yelling. She dared not look at him in the face; instead, she simply examined the muddy ground.
"I—" she began, unsure how to say this. "I am just a bit disappointed. I really...expected more." She gulped. She would not cry. Not now.
"I'm sorry..." he said, letting his voice trail off. He had no idea what to say to her.
"Oh...um, no don't be!" she reassured him, giving him a fake grin. "I did get back my pendant, which was the thing I really cared about!" Which was a light-hearted thing to say.
It was a lie. Fakir seemed to want to say something more but he never opened his mouth after that. They walked silently, Ahiru still shaken by the turn of events. She wanted to cry. But for the sake of her reputation, she didn't. Even if no one could see her, she did not want to let this get to her. Henriette Capulesia was not worth her tears.
X
"Fa-Fakir...I wanted to thank you for coming with me. It means a lot." Ahiru managed a smile as they stepped inside Rue's castle. She had calmed down, and it was all thanks to him. He had figured out that talking would not help her, and instead had taken a beautiful path to go back down to Verona. There had been such a wondrous view of the city that it had made Ahiru realize the greatness of where she lived. She could imagine some parts of the city. She could almost smell the city.
She owed it to him. Yet again.
"I am glad to have taken this journey with you...but you did not get any information about your mother, by any chance?" Fakir asked, his face puzzled. Now that he was about to let her be, he was trying to get some kind of speech out of her. They headed towards the library, where they knew no one would find them.
"No...my grandmother seemed to hate her too much to tell me anything of importance about her." Ahiru sighed wearily.
"I'm sorry to hear that," he simply said. And that was enough.
They sat down in the library as they each grabbed a book. There was a long silence which gave Ahiru the opportunity to think a bit. She had thought this through about a hundred times. She wondered why Henriette loathed her mother so very much, and why she was taking it out on her granddaughter.
And there was another thing. Fakir did not seem to have minded not going inside with her, yet he had made the long journey for that purpose. To apologize. She glanced at Fakir. Why did he bother helping her like this? "Fakir?"
"Yes?" he asked, his eyes fixed on his novel. Ahiru bit her lower lip. Would this be awkward?
"Why are you doing this?" she asked. Was it out of friendship, out of pity or from compassion? What was it exactly that drove this man to help her like this?
Fakir looked at her, confused. He hesitated, thinking about the question. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, why are you helping me like this? I should be your enemy because of my name and because of how I acted the first time we met," she mumbled, a bit embarrassed. This seemed so silly, but what her grandmother had said to her had made her curious about him.
"Well, I guess I am doing this for the reasons you listed," he said dully. Ahiru frowned, not understanding. He sighed. "What I mean to say is this: I want to cut out this hatred our two families have had for the past centuries. It doesn't make sense. And since you are heir to the Capulesia family, I want to help you."
"I'm an heir to nothing at all," Ahiru said, confused. "The Capulesia household lost everything years ago, and my grandmother hates me."
"That's not true. I think she'll reconsider and contact you. Because in the end, you're still the last of her household. That has to mean something to her. Besides, your first comment is not true. Your grandmother still owns a lot of property in Venice. It's just she can't go there because of the threat of my father. He might kill her when he has the chance."
"Oh," Ahiru said, taking in everything he had just said.
"Yes, and more about why I'm helping you. You have to realize that you have an...interesting personality." Fakir chuckled.
"Eh? Are you calling me stupid?" she said a little too loudly, and flushed at her squealing voice. Fakir sighed, looking at her with some kind of exasperation. There was a silence for some moments.
"No, I'm saying you're unlike the rest of the nobles. And servants, as well. So you see, I also want to help you because you're my friend."
"I am?" she asked, smiling sheepishly. Fakir lost his patience, if ever he had any.
"Yes, think about it...no servant would ever dare talk to me as an equal." Fakir seemed to look at her a bit somberly. "And all the other nobles treat me the way they do because of my name...I have never been considered for...me." Ahiru's heart began to race faster than usual. He seemed flustered at this, and as soon as Ahiru opened her mouth, he promptly cut her off. "But don't go thinking I'll be helping you with all your problems! Now be quiet. I'm trying to read—" But he could not finish his sentence, because the door had swung open, and Mytho had stepped in, grinning happily.
"Ahiru!" he exclaimed, surprised. "Why, Rue did not tell me you were here!"
"Mytho!" She smiled sheepishly and got up to hug him tightly. Her mind was still distracted with the information Fakir had just told her, so it was a bit hard to keep up. Mytho laughed at her dazzled expression, and nodded in Fakir's direction.
"Hello, Fakir." They shook hands, grinning at each other. "I take it you know why I'm here?" Fakir murmured an 'of course' in reply, and Ahiru just looked at both of them in a confused manner.
"What are you two talking about?"
Mytho looked embarrassed. "It's that... I came to ask for the blessing of my... future father-in-law."
Ahiru's heart fluttered with joy, suddenly forgetting all of the previous events of the day. At last, it was now official! Not that love had to be anything official to make it real, but she was convinced that this step would only reinforce the love Rue and Mytho had for one another. She was truly happy. Something good was happening for Mytho, and she felt as if it were part of her too. Because Mytho had always been there for her when times had been hard, and now, she was here for him.
She grinned, staring back at Fakir and was surprised to see his eyes were fixed on her, and there was a softness in his features that she hadn't noticed before.
She looked away, embarassed and suddenly seemed uncomfortable. She thought back at what her grandmother had said.
Could she love him?
