THE END IS THE beginning, and the beginning is the end.
I came here for one purpose and one purpose alone: to sign my life away.
It was merely chance that I found love, and mere chance that he would love me back.
If it's true what they say, that the fire that burns down the forest brings forth new life, carving a path, then I look out from the flames.
And I am new.
IT WAS A LONG week.
For Rue's wedding, all was prepared, for Mytho's nearly nothing, and they had torn down everything from Autor's wedding. Tuesday a rough ball was thrown together to announce the new engagements. Wednesday saw a hurried tailor try to finish Mytho's wedding suit as quickly as possible. Thursday, every gardner was called in hopes that they would have some fresh flowers available for the use of the Prince and Princess. Friday saw the panic of the kitchens, a feast for the entire kingdom. Again. Saturday brought trouble when the Duke Raven tried to talk Princess Kreahe out of her chosen betrothal, and Sunday saw the wedding jitters of both man and wife.
Then, finally, it was Monday and Ahiru sat next to Rue, excitement clear on both their faces as Rue was laced into her wedding gown for a second time.
"It's perfect." Ahiru said, the tips of her fingers gliding over the pearls and beads, carefully threaded into painstaking patterns. It was befit for a Queen, and it fit Rue all too well.
Rue shook her head, her grin wider than a princess should have been allowed. "My cheeks are burning, but I can't stop smiling." Rue reached out for Ahiru's hand. "Thank you."
"It really does-"
"No, no not the compliment, but thank you." Rue took a deep breath and for the first time that morning her smile fell. "If you hadn't been okay with any of this, I never would have told Mytho I loved him, it's because of you that I get to be happy."
"You deserve to be happy." Ahiru placed her other hand on top of Rue's.
"You do too. I'm so sorry. Autor isn't-" Rue let out a heavy breath. "He isn't an easy man to get along with."
Ahiru let the corners of her mouth twitch. "I'll make do. He's not so bad to talk to if you get him going on something he likes to talk about."
Rue look dumbfounded, "Only you would be able to see the best in him. Listen."
"Mmhmm."
"I'll be a kingdom away in a month, but if he starts bothering you, I'll come and kick his ass."
"Rue!"
Rue laughed. "You say that like I said something bad."
"No, just surprising."
There was a knock at the door and Rue tightened her grip.
"I guess it's time to go."
Ahiru smiled, "Are you ready?"
Rue took a deep breath, and nodded.
IT WASN'T THE FIRST time Ahiru had been late to her own engagement ball.
Somehow, even with Edel, Pique, Lillie and a whole host of servants, she was still running behind.
"There you are." Autor snarled. "Hurry up."
Ahiru picked up her skirts and ran towards him, accepting his arm before the doors were thrust open.
She took a deep breath and marched inside the ballroom, stopping at the top of the grand staircase as she and her betrothed were announced.
They walked slowly down the stairs, Autor in his effort to look ethereal; Ahiru in her effort to not trip on the edge of her dress.
It was a beautiful thing, made of velvet, and it should never have touched her skin. Like green moss, it fell heavily to the floor, and it's train dragged behind her on the steps. The color was deep, and all it reminded her of was the tapestry that hung from the ceiling, concealing the secret passageway to the Bookmen's meeting room.
Finally, at the bottom step, all who were raised bowed and curtsied to the pair, but all stood still, not allowed to move an inch until the first dance was danced.
Autor took her hand and led her to the center of the ballroom floor, a space left clear for dancing.
"I will do a simple waltz if you promise not to trip over your own two feet." Autor warned.
Ahiru pursed her lips but nodded, picking up the train of her dress to be held, unless she felt like tripping.
A simple melody was played, and a waltz danced, but she felt horrible the entire time.
He held her hand, pressed his palm flat into her back, her chest brushed up against his, she could barely stand to look in his eyes as he lead her through a slow and sloppy dance, in which she must have kicked his shins seven times.
At the last note, he held her out at arm's length and bowed to her, and with the next, they were surrounded by dancers and she felt suffocated. Colors whirled around her, and she couldn't recognize anyone's faces.
Autor had abandoned her on the dance floor.
She looked around at everyone, trying to spot someone she knew, someone who she could talk to, then she at least wouldn't feel so alone, but she didn't have to.
Suddenly, there was a hand slipping over her waist, and a hand lifting hers in the air.
She gasped, her chest pressed up against her captors until she looked into his eyes.
"Fakir." She chuckled. "Oh, I thought I would just stand there forever."
"I saw. You looked frightened." Fakir said softly.
"I was." She was lead in a gentle waltz, but soon the steps became more complex, but it didn't matter, all she could do was look up to Fakir, her attention stolen away by him.
"I want to tell you something."
"Okay."
"Not here. Not where someone can hear."
Ahiru looked around the room to find the Bookmen lurking in the shadows, just around the edges. Was it about them? It had to be.
He lead her out of the middle of the hurricane to a glass door disguised as one of the tall windows and out into the garden.
The doors shut firmly behind them, he offered her his arm and they walked around the garden, until the lights, the music, the noise were all dull.
"What is it?" She asked, she tilted her head to peer at him, the moonlight spilling out over his skin.
"I- I don't know how to approach it. I suppose I already have."
They walked on a stone path, their footsteps loud in the relative quiet, and every so often a soft breeze would float by, causing the bushes to rustle, and when it did, Ahiru would have to tuck the loose strands of hair back behind her ear.
He paused in his steps and he peered down at her. "The Königsspiel has been postponed, but that doesn't mean that I won't-" He groaned, he didn't understand why he was struggling to tell her. She must have guessed it by now, as well. There was no need for delay.
He had told hundreds, he told Mytho, he had told every passing ear. The word had spread out from beyond the city walls and had reached all of Bavaria.
He was sure even Drosselmeyer knew he was still alive.
Drosselmeyer, with the power to take control of anyone he so chooses, Fakir's very life on the line. The lives of everyone he loves, could be destroyed in a second. So what did he have to lose?
She herself had told him that she chose him.
It should have been simple, no doubt that telling her was the right thing to do.
But, perhaps it was telling her everything.
Who he was born to be, that was easy, but the gift, if one could even call it that, he had been born with, that was another matter altogether. He hadn't even told Mytho.
Fakir sighed.
Ahiru looked up at him, searching his eyes, but all she saw was something she had never expected to find there.
He was afraid.
Ahiru let go of his arm and sat on the lip of the fountain before patting the seat next to her.
Fakir shook his head, but she saw him smile. He sat next to her. "Do you know when my birthday is? Or how old I am?"
She shook her head. "No."
"It's the eleventh, the day you arrived. I was born twenty-one years ago."
"Oh! You're the same age as Autor, how weird."
"No- that's." He sighed, "Ahiru-"
"Ahiru!"
Ahiru looked back at the door they came out of, a dark figure stood, the warm light of the party doing nothing to tell her who it was.
"Ahiru! You must come back!"
"Miss. Edel." Ahiru stood. She looked back at Fakir, her hand clutched at her chest. "I have to go, can you tell me later?"
Fakir clenched his jaw but nodded. "Yes."
Ahiru smiled before picking up her skirts and running back to Miss. Edel.
Fakir stood, watching Ahiru run away, she met Miss. Edel, and her hand was a comfort on Ahiru's shoulder. Edel looked back at Fakir but he couldn't read her eyes, he only watched as she dragged Ahiru away from him.
AHIRU WALKED WITH RUE down the hall until they made it outside, the Duke Raven stood, ready to give her away, and Ahiru smiled, waved her good-bye before going to take her seat in the chapel. She paused at the door, watching uncertainly from the threshold as the Duke lowered himself to whisper in Rue's ear, his finger gliding over her cheek.
Rue's face contorted into a scowl as she grabbed his wrist.
Ahiru closed the door and walked down the aisle to her seat, wedged between Autor and Drosselmeyer.
AHIRU WENT TO SLEEP still wondering what Fakir had wanted to say, but woke up wondering who on earth was in her room.
In the midst of a dream, dancing with a Prince on the surface of a pond, her hand stolen away by a dark knight, his eyes green and-
"Haut Haut haut! L'heure de se lever!" The doors of her room were thrown open and a parade of people came marching into her room.
She sat up, rubbing her eye. "Wh- what?"
"Bonjour! Je m'appelle Femio, the man who will make your dreams come true!" He knelt before her bed and took her hand, kissing each of her knuckles and the top of her hand. "Although, I was sure it was a Prince I was working with today."
"Oh!" Ahiru giggled. "You're the tailor. You're looking for My- I mean, the Prince Siegfried."
"Oui, mademoiselle, and who are you?"
Ahiru sat up straighter. "I am the Princess Odette Ahiru."
"Ah the Princess to marry Autor. It is humbling to meet you."
"You know Autor?" Ahiru tilted her head. She didn't think he had friends.
"We used to be great friends." Femio looked wistfully out the window, to the rising sun, breaking through the clouds for once. "He has become overwhelmed with duties. I hear he is doing greatly."
She wondered where he heard that. Doing greatly at what? Being a brat?
Rude and arrogant and ill tempered.
"Ah well, I pray to meet your acquaintance again, but I must find a handsome Prince and make him a groom." He stood and gave her a deep bow, before turning back to his attendants. "Viens! Partons!"
His army of workers left her room in a similar matter to that of how they came in, only this time, the hallway was their stage to burst out onto, and she wondered if Femio had brought with him fellow tailors or performers.
Femio gave her a great bow for a second time as he pulled her doors to a close.
She smiled nonetheless and rose from her bed, and gave Pique and Lillie a pleasant surprise when she was up and waiting for them.
AHIRU SAT STRAIGHT BETWEEN Drosselmeyer and Autor, both men made her uncomfortable, but she chose to put her attention on Autor.
She expected some amount of disgust, anger, annoyance, or even jealousy towards his brother, but his face was a blank slate.
Like the Queen's.
In a horrible moment, Ahiru was brought back to the docks, she was with her friends, fellow children of the fishermen, and they ran around, as they were bound to do, with no adults to look after them, but their attention was caught.
A man pushed a cart down the cobbled path, a tiny theater he brought with him everywhere, made of wood, and the stage covered in a fading, red curtain.
The words "The Marvelous Mister Maxumillium's Marinette Parade" hung just overhead.
They chased after him until he felt he had gathered a large enough crowd before pulling his cart to a stop and drawing the curtain.
The others cheered, and so did she until she saw the marinettes.
Gruesome, was the word she was looking for, a word she wouldn't even know until she was seventeen.
They were painted to look like people, gentlemen and ladies of the court, queens and kings, peasants, but to her they were monsters.
They mouths never moved, their eyes never blinked, and while their bodies moved when their strings were pulled, their faces were never rearranged.
Ahiru's lip trembled as she looked at Autor, he wasn't a man, but merely a puppet, his eyes glossy, rising when the march started, but his movements were not his own, someone was pulling his strings.
Suddenly, she felt desperate, if she didn't run, he would reach out for her, his lifeless eyes never leaving hers until she was just as lifeless as him. Ahiru searched the room, trying to find Fakir, in hopes that, like the ball, he would come and whisk her away.
He stood in the shadows, like the first wedding, careful not to be with the crowd, but not sticking out. As soon as she found him, his eyes moved to cover her.
RUE GAVE A TERRIBLE groan, falling back on the sofa and throwing her hand over her eyes.
Ahiru knelt by her on the floor, patting her shoulder. "It will be okay, Rue."
"No! It won't be! We used all the stupid flowers at my wedding! Now there's none left."
"Don't say that, there has to be flowers somewhere." Ahir said, and as she did her mind flashed to an image of the fields just outside of the walls, the entire field covered in wildflowers.
"I'll be back."
Ahiru stood and was determined to fix this for Rue.
"I'll be here." Rue said. Her hands moving to rub against her eyes.
Ahiru smiled, pausing only for second to wonder how she would find the gate when the answer came to her.
Fakir.
He would be able to lead her to the gate, and finding him was easy. After some well laced questions, of course.
She had never been to the blacksmith's shop before, she never had to go to it, but now she stood just outside the open room, not a glass window pane in sight, but that was better than letting all the smoke stay inside.
Ahiru knocked on the wooden pillar to grab the attention of the man pounding a staff of iron.
"Excuse me, sir? I'm looking for Fakir, is he here?"
The man put the hammer next to him, but when his eyes met hers, he bowed to her. "Your Majesty, to what do I have the honor?"
"Oh! I- I was looking for Fakir."
The blacksmith chuckled. "And what trouble has my son gotten into this time?"
"No trouble at all! I just need his help."
"Ah." The Blacksmith lifted his hammer and hit the iron before blowing on it. "He's right there."
Ahiru turned around and Fakir walked toward her, the reins of his horse in his hand, he gave Ahiru a small glance before glaring at the blacksmith.
"Charon, what have you been saying to her."
"Nothing, she came to me."
Ahiru smiled. "Fakir, can you help me?"
Fakir gave one last strudy glare to Charon before it fell from his face and he turned to her with a gentler expression. "Of course."
"Come back anytime you wish, Princess." Charon waved, and Ahiru returned the favor.
"I will."
Fakir tied the reins to the fencing that lined the smithery and gave Charon a simple nod.
Ahiru walked with Fakir away from the heat and smoke of the Blacksmith shop and she told him Rue's dilemma and her solution.
"So I just need to get all those wildflowers."
"What do you need me for?"
"Oh, well, I don't really know how to get there." Ahiru held her hands in front of her, folding them together. "Please? Please help me?"
"I will, but I think we should go to the east wall."
Ahiru tilted her head. "What's at the east wall?"
Fakir smirked and took her hand, leading her away further out of town to the eastern gate.
"Her name is Freya, she's taken it upon herself to take care of the flowers that are here."
He opened the man sized door that stood next to the gate and they walked out into the fields.
Ahiru picked up her skirt as they started walking through the grass and she saw a woman dancing amongst the flowers, a watering can in her hand.
"Grow prettily!" She prayed.
"Wow." Ahiru smiled and ran to meet Freya. "Look at them! They're beautiful."
Freya covered her chuckle. "Thank you. Who are you?"
"Oh! I am the Princess Odette Ahiru. You can just call me Ahiru."
"And you're friends with Fakir?" Freya gave Fakir a pleasant smile. "You must be something."
"Miss. Freya, I have a problem-"
"The wedding?" Freya nodded. "Yes, I heard, there are no flowers left." She shook her head.
"I would hate to destroy yours." Ahiru pouted, suddenly this felt like a bad idea.
"It is no worry!" Freya planted her hand on Ahiru's shoulder. "If a flower can't be admired, has it truly lived its purpose? I just wanted to wait and see who they would send; someone demanding, or someone with a good heart. Take as many as you need."
Ahiru grinned, wrapping her arms around Freya. "Thank you."
Ahiru and Fakir spent the better half of the morning picking carefully the stems of the flowers and placing them in a basket. It wasn't long until they were joined by Lottie, Cordelia, Chiara, Tilda, and Luise, the little flock out on a morning walk, and when they saw the Princess they squealed and ran to her, smothering her in kisses and hugs, saying how much they missed her, and she returned in kind.
They asked her what she was doing and once she told them she and Fakir were gathering flowers for the Prince and Princess's wedding, they were all too eager to lend her a helping hand.
"Is this one good enough?" Tilda asked.
"It's perfect." Ahiru smiled.
"This one has a brown leaf." Luise pouted, holding an otherwise perfect flower.
Ahiru took the flower and plucked the brown leaf off.
"I like this one." Chiara said, before whispering. "Can I keep it?"
Ahiru laughed, but nodded.
"I got a bunch!" Cordelia said, Lottie holding it all in her tiny hands.
"Thank you." Ahiru said. "I think we have enough."
"Can we help you take it back?" Lottie cried.
"Oh please!" The others said.
"Of course, and we'll have to present them to Princess Kreahe, too, to make sure she likes them and approves of them."
They grew excited at the prospect of meeting another Princess and hurried along, their bundles of flowers in hand as they raced through the city, and as they ascended the palace steps, Rue and several maids were called out.
Rue came to the door and grinned at the flowers. "You did it! You really did it!" She threw her arms around Ahiru.
"We helped!" Tilda proclaimed.
Rue dropped to her knees. "Of course, and you did a marvelous job."
Tilda beamed and Rue kissed her forehead.
"Look what I got!" Chiara pushed Tilda out of the way. Rue chuckled and thanked her, kissed her forehead, as well.
Soon, all five girls had a kiss pressed to their foreheads and their flowers had been gathered to be given water.
"Here, I'll take them home." Fakir offered, the girls already pulling at his hands.
Ahiru giggled. "I don't think you have choice. Goodbye, Fakir. Thank you." He was already down a few steps, and she decided to follow Rue's lead, she learned forward, pressing her lips to his forehead. She pulled away and turned to walk into the palace too quickly to see the starstruck look on his face, but it was just as well, her cheeks burned and she didn't want anyone to look at her.
RUE WALKS DOWN THE aisle as if she was walking on air, her steps light, and her eyes centered on just one thing: Mytho. It was enough to pull Ahiru away from her woes and she smiled, happy that her friends were happy.
All were seated and Mytho grabbed Rue's hands, pulling her towards him.
"We are all gathered here today to join together two kingdoms, two states. The Princess Kreahe and the Prince Seigfried. If anyone objects to this union speak now or forever hold your peace."
The room held its breath as the Priest let his eyes pass over each and every attendant, waiting for someone to stand up and object, possibly challenge Mytho to a duel while he was at it.
"No? Then we shall continue."
Ahiru let her eyes wander to Autor's but nothing had changed.
He looked like his mother.
THE KITCHEN WAS STIFLINGLY hot, even with the windows open, and the chilling December wind coming in, there was still little one could do besides tie up their hair and roll up their sleeves.
It was so hot, Ebine called in a maid to wipe her face so that no sweat would drip into the food she was preparing.
But Pique groaned and brought a soiled towel to her neck in hopes that it would at least relieve the awful, sticky sensation.
"Here." She paused, putting the towel into a bucket. "I'll go to the well and rinse out these towels for everyone."
"That's so sweet!" Lillie said. "Unless you have an ulterior motive?"
Pique rolled her eyes, because only Lillie would accuse her of such. "The water in the well is cool, it'll give everyone some relief."
She stole Lillie's towel and threw it into the bucket before collecting the towels from everyone else as well, adding them to her collection and taking it outside.
She sighed in relief when a chilling breeze passed over her and she made her way to the well.
She placed her spoils on the ground before unhooking the well bucket from its place and casting it down into the well, hoping it hadn't frozen over yet.
She pulled it up and dumped the water in the towels before squatting by the bucket and one by one taking out the towels and ringing the excess moisture away.
That's when she heard him.
It wasn't too often she heard him laughing, if the light airy chuckle that passed over his lips could even be called that.
Pique smiled all too brightly and stood, "Fa-!" But she clamped a hand over her mouth and bit her tongue.
She dropped back down to her knees and peaked over the well.
Ahiru giggles brightly as she tugged at Fakir's hand and he looked at her with a soft expression that Pique…
Well, an expression Pique had never seen before.
She spied on them until they were out of sight, and Pique continued the task she had given herself. All the while, trying to convince herself that the look he gave Ahiru meant nothing.
AHIRU SMILED, SHE COULDN'T help herself as she watched Rue and Mytho standing with barely contained joy. It was all she could wish for, and when she snuck a glance over her shoulder, to where she knew Fakir would be standing, she couldn't help a modest blush when she caught him staring.
RUE WAS SURROUNDED BY wildflowers as servants milled around her in the chapel, arranging the flowers as best they could.
Ahiru sat on one of the pews, spinning a flower between her fingers. "I think it's perfect. It suits you."
"I always imagined roses, or peonies." Rue grinned as she brought a bouquet up to her nose. "But I will admit, this is stunning. What about you, Ahiru. What did you plan for your wedding?"
Ahiru's smile turned nostalgic. When she was a little girl, and her crush on the prince was just blossoming she imagined a wedding, but a simple one, a white dress, in the springtime, maybe she held a bouquet of white roses. When she grew up, and she knew her love would have to remain a secret, she knew she'd never be married, at least, not to the man she loved. Now she stood, a month away from her wedding to a man she knew she could never love, what flowers would be in season then?
"Oh, nothing grand, nothing like this." She made a vague gesture to the room. "Maybe… Maybe lavender, some silver nettle. Dandelions."
"Dandelions?" Rue quirked a brow. "Aren't those weeds?"
"People think they are, but they're not." Ahiru smiled. "They have a lot of value, and they're a pretty shade of yellow. People just don't always have the ability to see past the exterior."
"Yes, I suppose prejudice can blind some to reality." Rue sat beside Ahiru in the pew. She took her hand. "I judged you harshly, at first. I thought, well, I probably thought the same thing Autor did."
Ahiru picked at her dress. Was she really so easy to read?
"But now I see, you're so kind, and you have so much joy, and hope." Rue smiled, squeezed Ahiru's hand. "When you live in a place like Rothenburg, you forget such things exist."
"It can't be that bad-"
The doors of the chapel were thrown open, banging against the wall. The servants jolted, and Ahiru and Rue turned around in their seats to see who caused the commotion.
The Duke Raven held his hands behind his back as he slowly marched down between the pews. "I would like to have a word with the Princess." His eyes switched from servant to servant. "Alone."
There was a small mutter amongst them, but they dropped their baskets of flowers and left the chapel, closing the doors behind.
"Princess Odette." He said.
"Yes!" Ahiru jumped to her feet.
"Alone."
Ahiru's eyes went wide, she looked back to Rue, but she nodded, so Ahiru left. She went to the door and shut it behind her but she didn't stop there.
Lightly, she pressed her hands against the wall, hoping that a secret door would pop open, and when one did she made sure no one was watching as she stepped inside the chapel walls.
"-Raven nothing you can do or say will dissuade me." Rue said. "I made it perfectly clear last Sunday. Lest you forgot."
"You made it perfectly clear."
Ahiru moved along the wall, looking for a way to watch when her fingers bumped against a metal grate. She pulled it and peeked inside the chapel.
The Duke of Raven was awfully close to Rue.
He stood behind her, his hands traveling up her arms, resting on her shoulders.
"But let me make it perfectly clear, I'm sure compared to him I would make a much better partner in the bedroom, I have years of experience, whereas that little boy is, well, a little boy." Raven chuckled.
"You'll find that I am not driven by sexual desires alone!" She threw her hand back, colliding with his groin. She wretched herself from his grasp, backing away. "What you do and I do in the bedroom has always been, and will remain, separate."
"It doesn't have to be, you know the rumors about me are true, don't you?"
"I'm unimpressed. If all I really wanted out of my marriage was sex I wouldn't have let Mytho risk his life in the duel."
Raven ran his hand over her cheek, but Rue slapped it away.
"I will have you hanged for such an insult. And a Prince is still a better marriage than a Duke."
Raven put his hand at his side, and taking short strides, started circling her. "In the end, it will be my name that you'll cry out in the night."
"No. I think it's my name that you've been crying out since your last wife died. You're the one desperate for me, but I will not have you. Maybe you should look elsewhere for your nightly pleasures, you won't find it here."
She turned to leave, but he grabbed her arm.
"You will let go of me. You will let go and you will never speak to me again, and if I hear so much as a sound coming from your lips I will cut off your tongue. Leave."
Raven opened his mouth to object, but walked out of the chapel instead and as soon as Rue was alone, she fell to her knees.
Ahiru brought a hand to her lips, before she fisted her skirts into her hand and ran back into the chapel, she wrapped her arms around Rue, and she burrowed her face into Ahiru's shoulder.
"Oh he's so awful." Rue sobbed. "He's horrible."
Ahiru pet Rue's hair, looking back every now and then to the chapel doors, waiting for Raven to return. She thought the man was vengeful, and yet he seemed to fall apart at every lash of Rue's tongue.
He was pathetic.
THE DUKE RAVEN SAT behind Ahiru as Rue and Mytho where married and she couldn't help but feel his glare, not only on her neck, but on Rue.
She watched them exchange vows.
She watched as Mytho slipped a golden band onto Rue's finger, and as Rue slipped a golden band onto his.
She watched them kiss, and stood with the congregation in applause as they left the chapel as man and wife.
"DID YOU KNOW THERE was a secret passage in the chapel?" Ahiru asked.
She walked with Fakir in the Palace garden, stopping every once in awhile to admire the short stem roses that lined the garden path in tall bushes, providing shade for her as they walked.
"I did." Fakir stood beside her, his eyes flashing between the smile she wore as the soft petals of the roses tickled her nose and the way her eyes lit up, squinting as her smile pushed up her cheeks.
"And I watched the whole thing. You know, that Raven guy is a real creep, coming on to Rue like that." She started walking again, and he trailed behind her, watching the fabric of her skirt billow behind her. "I thought he was just a bad guy, but now he's- he's."
"Vile?"
"Hey, that's a good word." Ahiru smiled up at him before stopping again, her attention captured this time by a pink rose. "He's vile, I think it'd be better off if he left Rue alone."
"I'm sure it would." Fakir blinked and felt his heart quicken.
Ahiru lifted a hand, brushing her lose hair behind her ear. It wasn't everyday that her hair was let free like this, and even with some pinned back, a gentle breeze would pass by, and her hair would toss in the wind.
"I'm worried though." She said, her attention still on the flower, watching as the velvet petals bounced with each touch.
"What for?"
"Well." Ahiru looked over at Fakir, "She'll still have to live with him once this is all over, sure she'll be married to Mytho, but Raven with still be there."
Fakir nodded. "From what I've seen, Rue can handle herself, and so long as she and Mytho are together, I'm sure there's nothing they can't face."
Ahiru smiled and sighed in relief. "Oh thank goodness, I suppose you're right. Mytho and Rue together don't have anything to fear."
"And, if it really is the desire of Rue's heart, to end the war and bring peace back to Baden Württemberg, she'll have to go out and make peace."
Ahiru's face brightened and she beamed at Fakir, "Meaning that she won't even be in Rothenburg!" She resisted the urge to pounce on him in gratitude, instead she clasped her hands behind her back and smiled at him. "That will be wonderful. Maybe when she goes to Arnis, I could go with her."
"Has Baden-Württemberg laid siege on Schleswig-Holstein?"
"Technically, no." She shook her head and took up walking, onto the next bush along the path, simply running her hand across the leaves. "But it would still be good to go and make peace, maybe even start more trade."
"You just want to go back home." He smiled, and he couldn't hide it when she looked back at him, her own widening.
"One day, it would be nice." She turned away, her feet stopping, her hand resting on a singular bush, an orange rose was graced with her touch. "Once everything is settled, and I'm…"
Her hand flinched away from the rose, as if it stung her, or perhaps she felt like she endangered the rose, but nonetheless, her hand fell to her side.
"What if…"
Ahiru raised her head and turned her head over her shoulder to glance at him.
"What if the day you are to be married, the day of the Königsspiel, I was able to stop it?"
"What do you mean? Would you challenge Autor to a duel?"
"No… to the Königsspiel."
Ahiru turned to face him. "I thought the Konigsspiel was ran by future kings, why… Why would you run?"
Fakir swallowed, he looked around them, and when he saw nothing, he said, "Do you remember what I was telling you? About the rumors, a child thrown out of the window to be killed by his mother, the Queen?"
She remembered, nodding slowly as he continued.
"She didn't succeed in killing the child, he was saved by the blacksmith, twenty-one years ago."
"But! That's just a story!"
Fakir shook his head, he reached out his hand to grab hers, but she stepped back. "It's true."
She fiddled with her fingers. "Fakir? What are you saying?"
He stepped forward and reached for her hand once more, but let his arm fall to his side. "I'm saying that Autor isn't the Crown Prince Lohengrin of Bavaria, but the Duke Felix Author Mendelssohn from the house of Verstand."
"That's what the Bookmen said, too." Ahiru said, her voice soft. "That they stole Autor, that they don't want you to run-" She looked up at him, her eyes wide, and a sharp breeze passed. "You're-"
Fakir nodded. "The Crown Prince Lohengrin Fakir of Bavaria."
Ahiru put a hand on her chest, griping at her heart as she pieced it all together. "Why did she…"
"Throw me out a window?"
Ahiru nodded.
Fakir looked back at the castle walls, made hundreds of years ago, out of brick and stone, what should have been his home. "There's a dark power that resides here." Fakir looked down at his own hand. "Or at least, a power granted for good, used for dark intentions. A power that I-"
"Fakir!"
Fakir groaned, "Now what?"
Running down the path was a slightly servant, small in stature, and probably shouldn't have been running. He stopped before them, grasping his knocking knees and taking heaving breaths. "His grace, the Prince Siegfried requires your presence!"
Fakir rolled his eyes. "Dylan, what did I tell you about running?"
"Not-" A pant, "To do it."
Fakir looked back at Ahiru, her face stricken with contemplation, she knew that Autor wasn't the prince, but she had pushed the truth away, the truth of who Fakir really was and who he was meant to be.
"If it's what I think it is, you should go see Rue."
Ahiru stood a little straighter, filled with the sense of duty that she was needed.
"Thank you, Dylan."
Dylan swallowed hard before he bowed to Fakir, whispering "Your majesty."
It was meant to be only heard by Fakir, his King, carried away by the wind, but Ahiru heard.
Dylan ran away, huffing and puffing again.
Fakir groaned, "What did I just tell him… we should go."
Ahiru gave a firm nod, picking up the edges of her skirt as she quickly walked away.
"Ahiru, wait." Fakir chased after her, grabbing her arm. "Are you okay?"
"What will happen? After the Königsspiel? To Autor, to you? To…"
"After I run, I'll take the throne, and Autor will go back home, back to the house of Verstand."
"He would like that." Ahiru said, she started walking again, and Fakir could do nothing but follow her. "He was telling me, in the library, how much he admired the house. I think… he'd be better there than on the throne."
She stopped again, before the steps that lead back up to the castle, she bowed her head. "And… me?"
"You can go home, back to Arnis." Fakir watched her shoulders tense, the slight shake of her head. "I'll make sure that a trade is still made between us and Arnis. And then, you can be free to live your life."
"There's nothing there for me anymore." She whispered, but he heard nonetheless.
Ahiru walked up the steps to the palace doors, and Fakir looked to his side, a bush that looked like it was chopped down, it's roses stolen for the first wedding, except for one, it was small, barely budding. He took out his dagger, hidden by his waist, and cut the stem.
Ahiru was already inside when he put his dagger away, and halfway up the stairs.
"Ahiru." He called, and she paused. He climbed up the steps, and looking up at her, he felt silly, and he felt his cheeks grow hotter. "I won't force you to leave, you could stay here, this...this could be your home." He offered her the rose.
"I'm not-"
"I know." He said. He didn't, not really, he had only guessed that she wasn't a princess, that this wasn't where she belonged, in her fine gowns, the gems she wore on her neck, the adornments on her head, but that didn't matter to him, and perhaps it was selfish, asking her to stay when she had a family to go home to, a life of her own where she didn't have to pretend to be something else. Someone else.
Her eyes traveled to the rose, and she lifted her hand, the tips of her fingers brushing over his, and taking the rose from him.
He came to stand next to her on the step, gazing down at her again. "I won't make you suffer, I won't force you to marry someone you don't love."
Ahiru sighed, the hand that held the rose fell to her side. "You should go. Mytho needs you."
"And Rue needs you."
They climbed up the stairs slowly, they stole a glance before leaving each other's sides, Fakir going left, and Ahiru turning right.
Fakir picked up his pace as he made his way to Mytho's room, where two guards stood at the door.
"Did he try to see her?" Fakir asked, and the guards, tired, nodded. "Leave, I'll make sure he follows tradition."
The guards slumped away, and Fakir didn't bother knocking as he opened the door and stepped inside. "Mytho, just what do you think you're doing?"
Mytho was sitting up on his bed, his legs pulled up lightly, his blanket pulled around his torso and over his head. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Fakir sighed. "You know you can't see her."
"What am I supposed to do? Just wait for tomorrow to come?"
"That's tradition."
"Since when did you care about tradition, Fakir?"
Fakir stood by the bed, his arms crossed. "I care when it comes to you. What did you try?"
"Well." Mytho lifted a hand, tapping his fingers as if they were a list, "I tried climbing out the window, I tried calling the guards in and running out and locking the door while they were inside, I tried telling them I was going to the kitchen for a snack, but so far nothing has worked." He sighed, flopping over on himself. "They either catch on or catch me before I get far."
Fakir sat down on the bed. "So, how do you feel about becoming a King?"
"I'm not a King yet, Fakir, but, I was never supposed to be a king. I don't want to mess up."
Fakir nodded, "My father wasn't even a prince when he married my mother, but while he was King-"
"Fakir, you can't talk about it like it's a fact."
Fakir sighed, "What will make you believe me? Believe Charon?"
Mytho shook his head. "I don't know, but every time I try to think about it, about you being my brother, and Autor as someone else's son… I can't."
"Do you really want to see her?"
"More than anything."
Fakir stood. "Alright, I'll take you."
"You will?" Mytho stood on the bed, the blanket falling off him.
Fakir rolled his eyes, but gave Mytho a half smile. "Yes, I will." Fakir walked to the headboard. "Although, I don't remember exactly where this room's entrance is."
Fakir pressed against the wall, as Mytho pointed to the door.
The wall opened and Mytho hopped down from his bed. "What is this?"
"The tunnels, they run through the castles."
"How do you know about them?"
Fakir looked over his shoulder at Mytho, he took a candle in its holder off Mytho's desk. "Do you have a match?"
Mytho nodded, going to his nightstand and pulled out a silver box, and he lit the candle.
They made their way into the tunnel.
"Charon, he taught me everything I know, so when I'm King, I'll be ready."
Mytho was quiet and when Fakir looked back, he couldn't decipher Mytho's expression, his countenance covered in shadows.
It wasn't a quick path, twisting and taking longer than the hallways, but Fakir knew where he was going and was able to find the viewing vent quickly.
They were talking.
"Wait." Fakir whispered, his arm thrown out to block Mytho's steps.
"We shouldn't eavesdrop, Fakir."
"I- I know."
But neither of them moved.
"But I can't stay here, that would be dishonest." It was Ahiru, and Fakir felt his heart quicken.
Rue clicked her tongue. "You wouldn't be Queen, you would just live in the palace, that's better than being a fisherman's daughter."
A fisherman's daughter? They didn't even send a noble? She wasn't even a lady!
"But it would be a lie." Ahiru sighed. "I'm not a Princess."
"Why don't you just tell him? I don't think he would care." Rue reasoned, and she was right, he didn't. She could have been anything and he would still- "Besides, you don't want to go back."
"I don't. I don't have anything to go back to."
Fakir grit his teeth, he couldn't take it any longer, he knocked on the wall and opened the viewing vent.
"Fakir?" Ahiru was quick to catch on, and she was quick to find him in the wall. "What are you doing here?"
"Mytho wanted to see Rue."
Fakir pushed on the wall, opening the door, watching as Mytho rushed in, Fakir looked through the viewing vent as he wrapped his arms around Rue, peppering her cheeks with kisses.
Ahiru smiled at them, but turned back to the vent, and surrounded by dim lit, she could barely make out his features. She bit her lip and stood by the wall, her hand pressing against it. "I choose you."
AHIRU GRINNED AS SHE watched Rue and Mytho run out of the chapel, hand in hand, as rice rained around them.
Everything was worth it, all of it, just to see the way they lit up as they got their happily ever after.
Almost everything…
Ahiru looked back inside, to Autor, sitting still in the pew, his back straight, unmoving. Something was wrong with him, she just had to figure out what.
"Princess Odette."
Ahiru tore her attention away from Autor and to the servant that held out his arm. "To the reception?"
"Yes, Your Grace, I was sent to escort-"
"I'll escort her."
Ahiru smiled up at Fakir, almost placing himself between her and the servant, he held out his arm and she took it, giving the servant an apologetic smile.
"It was wonderful, wasn't it?"
"Yes, it was."
"Now they'll be starting the preparations for my wedding." Ahiru said solemnly. "I-"
"You don't have to do anything." He told her, his voice soft and low, he leaned his head towards her. "You don't have to marry him."
"He doesn't want to marry me, either." She looked back over her shoulder, just as Autor emerged from the chapel, even from a distance she could see his eyes; dark and cloudy, as if a great storm lay just underneath. "But, in the end, you'll still be here, and I'll-"
Ahiru stopped just before the door, and Fakir was gracious enough to stop with her.
"I don't want to go back."
"You don't have to."
Ahiru took a deep breath and started walking again, the ballroom was in chaos, the celebration was large. Mytho, the favorite, the Prince of the people, was happily married, it was a great reason for a smile to grace the faces of all in attendance. Even Ahiru couldn't stop her smile from growing as she stepped into the room.
Rue and Mytho had already started dancing, and many joined them, some ate, some drank, and it was perhaps the least formal ball that had occurred under the eyes of the First King and his Queen, but as Ahiru looked up to the sky, their smiles were still present and she knew that they were happy for their descendants just as everyone else was.
Fakir walked her to the center of the room, and Ahiru never let go of him, but when they stepped out onto the dance floor there was great clap of thunder and everything came to a screeching halt.
The day had been clear, the sky blue, only a few clouds passed over the sun, but now it poured heavily, and the room was dark, save for the mere seconds where flashes of lightning filled the sky.
"A bad omen." Raven said, loud enough to be heard over the storm. "An ill omen, a curse on this day." His eyes rested on Rue, and soon others followed, until their attention was drawn elsewhere.
With a crash of thunder, and a bolt of lightning, the doors to the ballroom where thrown open, and with heavy, mechanical steps, Autor walked into the midst of the party.
Ahiru's grip on Fakir's arm tightened, and his other arm came around her, but she couldn't deny that as the sea of guests parted, of nobles, servants, and peasants, and Autor stalked forward, that his eyes, now filled with horrible emotion, was aimed for her.
Ahiru could barely breathe, but her grip lessened, and when Autor wordlessly asked for her hand, she let him take it.
She looked back uncertainly at Fakir, who seemed just as lost, just as confused.
They stepped onto the floor, suddenly empty, all pushing back and out of his way, even Rue and Mytho, and it pained Ahiru's heart to think she was stealing from what should have been their day.
Once he reached the middle, just under the gaze of the sun and moon, Autor pulled her roughly to him, entrapping her hand in a vice grip, he wrapped his fingers around her waist and she couldn't stop herself from squirming away from his touch.
He didn't even have to give the command as a deadly march was started up by the band, and he lead her in a dance that felt much more like war than it ought to.
Everytime she peered up at him through her lashes, she saw his eyes pinned to her, dark and turbulent, and his expression scared her, as if he could barely disguise his hate; his disgust.
Ahiru turned her head out to the crowd, looking for Fakir among them, and with every twist and turn, she found him again, and when Autor caught on, keeping his body between them, Fakir stalked the inside rim of guests, making sure that he was always able to see Ahiru.
"Look at me."
Ahiru gasped, she didn't think he would say anything, and as she did, obeying his command, she saw the pure malice there.
"You will not suffer me a fool, if you are to be my wife, I won't have you looking at another man."
"I wasn't-"
"Don't lie!" His grip tightened, her hand in agony, and her waist surely couldn't take much more of it.
Ahiru shook her head. "I would never do that to you."
"Don't think that I don't know, don't think that I don't know how you feel about me, how the world feels about me."
Ahiru started breathing heavily, his steps started going faster, but it was less of a dance now, and more of a chance to stand above her; to keep her trapped at his side.
"The way you've looked at me, even how you look at me now, it is the way everyone has looked at me. But you're wrong. I have a chance to prove myself, at the Königsspiel, to prove to all that I will be a great King."
"No." Ahiru set her eyes, and squeezed his hand as hard as he squeezed hers. "That's not the real you. That's not what you want."
"And what do you know of what I want?"
"I saw you, the real you, in the library, what do you really want? To be King, or to go out into the world and percure knowledge?"
Ahiru could feel her ankles starting to wobble. She couldn't keep this up, this harsh dance, it was too much for her.
"I was born to be King, and King I will be; either with you by my side as my Queen, or your stay here will end. Promise me, then, that you will marry me."
Ahiru's eyes widened, there was no way she could promise that, if she did, she wouldn't be able to break her promise.
She tried to find Fakir again, but she was starting to get dizzy.
"Promise me."
"I- I can't-"
"You will." He tugged her arm into the air, forcing her to spin in small, tight circles, the room turning round and round until there was nothing but splotches of color. He stopped, suddenly, he snaked his arm around he waist and threw her into a dip, her head crashing to the floor.
She let out a cry of pain, "I promise! I promise." Autor pulled her up, his hand growing lighter. "I promise I'll marry the King of Bavaria."
He let go of her and stepped back, he bowed before walking away, parting the crowd before it swallowed him.
Her head couldn't stop spinning, and when she tried to step away, her foot caught the trailing edge of her skirt and she fell.
"Ahiru!" Someone shouted, and she swore it was Fakir.
There was a crack of thunder, but it was duller, and the flash was dimmer, the storm had passed, but her head ached.
She felt a hand on her cheek and looked up, she smiled. "Fakir." She said.
"Are you alright?"
She tried to nod, but it made everything hurt. "No." She said.
"Of course not, idiot, can you stand?" There was a look of deep concern in his eyes.
"Maybe. Am I standing?"
"No."
Suddenly, she felt arms around her, lifting her off the floor.
"Ahiru!"
Ahiru opened her eyes and saw Rue coming to her side.
"What happened? Why did he-?"
"I don't know." Ahiru smiled and shook her head, her eyes were growing heavy, her head still throbbing.
"I'll take her to her room, if anything happens I'll tell you."
Rue started shaking her head, but Ahiru reached out for her.
"Rue? I'm sorry I ruined your day."
"What? Oh, no!" Rue took her hand. "You did no such thing, it was that nasty Autor. Go upstairs, go get some rest, we can talk tomorrow and I'll tell you everything you missed."
"Will you save me a slice of cake?"
"Of course." Rue smiled, brushing back the bangs that covered Ahiru's eyes. "What did you think breakfast was going to be?"
Ahiru smiled, she closed her eyes and leaned against Fakir's chest.
Fakir made his way through the crowd, they didn't part for him like they did Autor, all wanted to get out of his way, but nearly everyone wanted to see the Princess, to see what had really happened to her, but no one asked.
No, no one dared, not when Fakir turned his sharp eyes on anyone who go too close, who tried to touch her, the only one it didn't work on was Edel.
Edel followed him out of the reception, up the stairs of the ballroom and tried her best to bargain for the princess cradled in his arms.
"She is my ward." Edel reasoned, her arms held aloft.
Fakir didn't say a word, only walking past her, holding Ahiru tighter.
Edel chased after him. "You don't understand, you can't just take her."
"Watch me."
Edel paused, perhaps she was too late, she had hoped to keep them apart, at least until the Königsspiel was ran, and Fakir won, then they could fall sweetly, and there would be nothing to keep them apart, not betrothals, or Drosselmeyer, or even her. Now she could see, she had failed, she never should have allowed them to even meet, to even speak to each other.
All she could do now was keep them safe.
"Fakir wait. There's danger here."
Fakir stopped, he didn't even look back as he said: "Yes, I know."
"The powers Drosselmeyer possesses, the powers that you possess."
"How do you know-?"
"A long time ago, before the Oak Tree was cut down, I was her keeper." Edel stepped forward, she had his attention now. "Every generation, she releases a power, a power to control reality, to control the very souls of people. Someone catches it, or asks for it, and some use it for good, and some for their own selfish purposes. Sometimes a King, sometimes a poor man. However, she… foresaw it coming to this, and she swears that the ending will be happy, but… Never before has someone held their hand over another as long as Drosselmeyer has kept his hand over the Queen. Never before has it been passed down."
Fakir's right hand flinched.
"I tried to protect her, but I can see that it is not up to me anymore. It is up to you." Edel placed her hand on Ahiru's shoulder, asleep. "I know what you're capable of, Fakir. Don't fail me."
Fakir nodded, he didn't say a word as he walked past Edel, and he missed the way she sighed in relief.
Ahiru was placed in something soft, softer than the floor she had fallen to, and it felt like she was flying amongst the clouds, and perhaps she was, perhaps she had wings and could soar to the greatest height, but she came back down when a hand touched the back of her head, causing a shock of pain.
"Ow!"
"Sorry."
Ahiru blinked and looked at Fakir, sitting next to her on her bed. She looked out the window, the storm had lessened, but the rain was still there, soft and gentle, but no matter how gentle it was, it reminded her, nonetheless, of the sea, of the summer before, of the great storm.
"Hey. Are you feeling better?"
Ahiru nodded, but that tugged at the knot in the back of her skull and she flinched.
"You should drink something."
Fakir stood, walking away, but she fell back, closing her eyes and letting herself fall.
She opened her eyes to sun, and when she looked around her room, Fakir was nowhere to be found.
Ahiru lifted her hand and found it to be bruised, she didn't want to know what became of her waist.
She looked out the window, blue and clear, but not for long.
This was just the eye of the storm, and soon, it would come back full force.
Then she remembered.
She sat up in her bed, her face flush and her eyes wide.
She promised Autor she would marry the future King of Bavaria.
She didn't break her promises.
And if Autor won, she would have to marry him.
But…
If Fakir won, then she-
"No, no, no! It's not like that!" She shouted to no one in particular.
Her hands cupped her face, burning under her fingertips, she couldn't help but think…
Would that really be so bad?