Once there lived a young king and queen. For many years they had no children, until finally the queen gave birth to a lively girl. The entire kingdom rejoiced, and gathered together to celebrate the birth of their new princess. Three fairies were invited to the celebration, and the first two bestowed gifts upon her: one gave the gift of lasting beauty, the other the gift of song. The third fairy raised her wand to bestow her gift, when she was interrupted by the arrival of a fourth fairy. He was the king of the fairies, and he was very angry at not being invited to the celebration. He cast upon the baby princess a curse: On her sixteenth birthday, she would prick her finger on a spinning wheel and die. After announcing this, the fairy king disappeared as abruptly as he had come, leaving the young king and queen distraught in his wake. But at that moment, the third fairy came forward and proclaimed that she could modify the curse. The princess would not die upon pricking her finger, but merely sleep until she was awakened by true love's kiss.
Her parents were not comforted by this. They begged the three fairies to help their daughter, and to keep her safe until she turned sixteen. They sent her away to live in the forest with the fairies, and sent out a proclamation that all spinning wheels in the kingdom were to be burned.
As the child grew, she knew nothing of this. She was raised by the three fairies, living the free life of a forest child, never questioning her absent parents. She played with the animals in the woods, and grew prettier with each passing day. She grew older, and soon stood on the cusp of adulthood. The fairies began to relax a little, knowing that their time to care for the princess would soon be over.
Around this time, the princess encountered a young man in the woods. He was riding his horse through the woods and had stopped to water it in the nearby stream when he saw unmistakable movement among the trees. He turned his head just in time to see a pretty face, and then she was gone, a flash of orange hair all that he could distinguish among the shade of the forest. The young man was stunned, and also intrigued. Who was this wild beauty who had run away at the sight of him? He searched the area for her, but soon gave up and went home.
The next day, however, he returned to the same spot, hoping to catch sight of the girl. He dismounted his horse and settled in by the stream to wait.
His efforts were soon rewarded, as he soon saw the pretty face peering at him quizzically. He leapt up quickly, exclaiming, "Please, don't run away! I won't harm you!"
The princess stopped and looked at him with open suspicion. "My aunts say that I should never talk to strangers, particularly men," she responded, looking him over.
"Your aunts sound like wise women," the young man said. "But what if we talked and got to know each other? Then we would not be strangers. Maybe we could be friends."
The princess's face brightened at this. "Oh, a friend! I've always wanted a friend!" she exclaimed. She emerged from the woods, walking over to where he was sitting, and took a place on the ground near him, smiling at him trustingly.
Thus began their daily conversations by the stream. Every day, the young man looked forward to meeting with her, and every day he fell in love with her a little more. As each day passed, he also became aware of a feeling that all of these things he was learning about the girl, each new conversation, was in fact a repeated experience for him. He couldn't shake off the feeling of this all being very familiar to him, and yet he couldn't put his finger on why that was.
But before he had a chance to puzzle it out, there came a day when the princess did not come to the stream at their regular time. The young man waited for some time, but then he became concerned, and decided that he should search her out and make sure nothing was wrong. He set off in the general direction the princess had told him she lived, and eventually he found a cottage. He was disheartened to see that it looked dark, and inactive. Still, he dismounted his horse, went up the little path, and knocked on the door.
But the one who answered his knock wasn't the princess at all, but a stern-looking woman. The young man was surprised, but greeted the woman politely, "Hello. Are you perhaps one of the aunts I have heard about?"
She looked him over critically before replying, "Yes, I am a fairy. You would do well to remember that. I take it you are then young man that has been disturbing our young charge as of late?"
The young man's temper flared, but he managed to answer in a polite, if cold, voice, "If by disturbing you mean befriending, then yes, that is me."
The fairy looked at him disdainfully. "Well, either way, you are too late."
He felt a jolt of fear. "What do you mean, too late?"
The fairy said haughtily, "That girl is actually a princess. She was only here until her sixteenth birthday, and since that is today, she has gone back to the castle where she was born to meet her parents. She is far beyond the reach of a stripling like you."
The young man was taken aback. "Wait, you mean to say that she is really the princess who was cursed by the fairy king?"
The fairy looked at him sharply. "Yes, she was, but how would you know that? The king and queen never told anyone of that."
He exclaimed, "I was there! My family was invited to the celebration of her birth. I wasn't very old at the time, but I remember all of it."
"But only royalty and a select few nobles were invited! Surely you can't be…"
"Yes, I'm the prince of the neighboring country," the young man snapped. "But that isn't what's important right now. Why is she being allowed to return before her birthday? There's still a chance the curse could take effect!"
The fairy scoffed. "Be realistic, young str-young prince. There haven't been any spinning wheels in the land in nearly sixteen years. How could she possibly get hurt now?"
"That's beside the point!" the prince snarled. "Don't you understand who you're dealing with? I would think, being fairies yourselves, you'd understand the power of the fairy king!" Exasperated, he turned on his heel. "I have no time for your stupidity. I have to go find her before it's too late." Ignoring the outraged gasp of the fairy behind him, he quickly strode over to his horse, turning its head towards the direction of the castle.
He rode as fast as he could, hoping in his heart that he would make it in time. As he drew within sight of the castle walls, he barked at the guards to confirm his identity, demanding passage. Luckily for him, they recognized him quickly, and allowed him inside.
He could immediately tell that something was wrong. Everyone in the castle was buzzing, congregating towards a side chamber. Instinctively, he leapt off his mount and followed the hub of activity, yelling at everyone to get out of his way. Eventually he burst into a bedchamber, and saw a sight that froze his heart:
The princess, lying lifeless on the floor.
A strangled cry ripped from his chest, and he started to dart over to her, stopping short when he saw that a figure stood over her. Turning around with an impressive swish of his crimson cape, the prince saw a face that he remembered from his youth.
The fairy king smiled broadly at him and crowed, "Ah, at last the prince has graced us with his presence! But, oh dear, aren't you a bit late? It seems that the princess has already pricked her finger, and awaits death. There is nothing you can do now, is there?"
His grin widened, and the prince's neck hair prickled. He glared at the fairy king and drew his sword. "Get away from her, Drosselmeyer," he growled. After he spoke, he paused a little, blinking in confusion. Who was Drosselmeyer? Where had that name come from?
The fairy king chuckled. "Certainly, young prince. You are welcome to her body. I simply wanted to be here to see your reaction. It really is most interesting, when the story progresses like this." Emitting a high-pitched giggle, he said, "Well, I suppose I'll be on my way now. Nothing entertaining left to see here."
He disappeared, and the prince shook off his confusion, rushing forward to the princess's side. Dropping down onto his knees, he lifted her torso off the floor, cradling her head carefully. He placed his cheek next to her mouth, hoping in vain for some sign of breath.
But there was nothing.
Fear clutched his chest even harder, but he squeezed his eyes shut tight and tried to recall the words the fairy had said when she overwrote the curse all those years ago. What was it that could break the spell? A kiss?
Opening his eyes, he took a deep breath and steadied himself. This was no time to hesitate. He had to try to wake her up. He didn't want to think about what would happen if she didn't. Hardly even aware of the eyes of the servants around them, the prince leaned forward and kissed the princess's lips softly, parting them gently as he deepened his hold, desperate to make sure the kiss was effective. Finally, he broke away, and watched the princess's face apprehensively.
A few long, torturous seconds later, her eyes slitted open, and she looked up at him. A small smile spread across her moistened lips. "I knew it would be you," she whispered.
This time before he had gone into the story, Fakir had tried to prepare himself. After his realization that he was seeing Drosselmeyer in his stories, he had done some tests in his regular stories that he wrote for the townspeople. He had carefully studied all of them for several months, unwilling to put Ahiru at any risk before he had a chance to investigate. But Drosselmeyer hadn't appeared, even once. Fakir had spent endless hours after his preliminary tests planning this story, trying to ensure that his love wouldn't be put in harm's way during the story. Fakir didn't know what Drosselmeyer wanted, or if it was really even him. Maybe it was just Fakir's own impressions of his ancestor's influence, or maybe it was Drosselmeyer's blood in him that was causing the man to appear inside his stories. Either way, he refused to let anything happen to Ahiru, either inside one of his stories or in Gold Crown Town. And yet, he had still appeared, even inside this story. As he left the story, he could practically feel the frustration and confusion filling him. He forced himself to open his eyes and focus on Ahiru instead.
For just a moment, he saw the outline of the princess from the story, like a blurred afterimage. He blinked, and once again, Ahiru was just a simple little duck. He blinked a few more times, hoping fruitlessly that she would change back again. When it didn't work, he sighed in defeat, plopping down heavily into his chair and burying his face in his hands. Ahiru hopped up into his lap, flapping and squawking excitedly.
Startled, he drew back. "Whoa, whoa there. What's got you all excited?" he asked.
Ahiru continued to flap around, quacking in a way that he knew she meant as a long speech. Sighing, he reminded her yet again, "Idiot, I can't understand what you're saying. You'll have to tell me some other way." She often forgot this basic fact when she was overly excited, as she seemed now.
She flapped off his lap, and mimicked the pose she had been in at the end of the story, then positioned herself in her pose that she had used when transforming into Princess Tutu. Fakir stared at her for a moment, trying to puzzle out her meaning. Then his eyes widened, and he asked softly, "Ahiru...do you mean...that it almost worked this time?"
Excitedly, she nodded her head, a fresh stream of quacking peppering her affirmation.
He stared at her, dumbstruck. "Impossible. I didn't do anything different. Only…" He blushed crimson, realizing what had been different in this story. He had thought that kissing her might help to wake her up from the story, and from her duck form in general. Thinking about it now, it seemed like a ridiculous idea. But obviously something about it had been effective, if only a little. He turned away from his love, mumbling, "Well, I'm glad we're on the right track. Now, I'm going to stay up a bit later working. I want to take some notes while this is still fresh in my mind. You go on to bed without me." Not looking back at her, he waved his hand over his shoulder in the vague direction of the bed. Ahiru quacked at him in displeasure, and waddled over to him, pulling at his pants leg with her flat beak.
Glancing down at her, Fakir said gently, "I know, Ahiru. It's just...we've finally made some progress. I can't just stop now." Looking away, he said in a gruff voice, "Anyway, you should go to bed. I might be up for a while."
Huffing at him, the duck flapped up and settled into his lap, tucking her head into his wing as she settled in comfortably. He looked down at her in surprise, then smiled despite himself. Damn, was she stubborn. Resting his hand on her head, he allowed himself a moment to breathe and center himself.
He was getting there. She had almost turned back. Now he just had to figure out why.
Vigor renewed, he picked up his pen, scribbling away furiously. In his lap, the duck dozed sleepily, content in their little corner of the world.