HAVE YOU HEARD THE rumors about Bavaria?

About the True King and the Peasant Queen?

Some say they walked into the forest hand in hand, others say she chased after him.

But all knew who had won, and who would be crowned King, I think they knew from the start who would win, just not who would become his wife.

AS A YOUNG GIRL, Ahiru was used to chilling water.

She could remember swimming out further than she was supposed to and diving deep down under the waves, only to look up and see the sun, still guiding her actions, still shining down on her, before her body floated to the surface.

It was a risk going into the water, of not drying off and getting warm fast enough, of getting sick, of death.

But she took the risk.

It was one of the only brave things she could say she had done.

She remembered, it wasn't too bad in the water, once one became accustomed to it, it was when she broke the surface, and the brisk wind froze the water droplets that streaked down her face, down her shoulders. She would swim out past where the waves broke, where it rocked her. It was calm in the water, and quiet, and she promised she wouldn't stay under too long, promises to her father, to Gero; to herself.

The one thing that Ahiru wasn't used to was the amount of clothing she still had on her body.

It weighed her down, it flowed around her, and she wondered which dress she ruined now, who would yell at her for this? Paulamonie? The head of the house? Miss. Edel?

There was something else, as well.

As a young girl, she remembered being the only one to dive into the ocean's deep, completely unafraid.

Not even Gero would join her in the water, nor her father.

But, someone was with her now.

As if she was being carried.

A strong arm wrapped around her lower back, a large hand keeping her from floating away, and another under her knees, maybe he had kept her from drowning.

She was sure she would have, the dress was heavy, and it wrapped around her legs, she was sure she wouldn't be able to swim properly, to save herself.

Water lapped at her face, pulling at her hair, but it wasn't the strong pull of the ocean, and perhaps it wasn't, perhaps she wasn't in the ocean, but a lake of some kind, or a pond.

There was no way she could be in the ocean, however, she wasn't in Arnis, she was in Nordlingen.

Something pulled at her side, it almost hurt, and she almost cried out in pain, but the longer she was in the water, the more the pain subsided.

Someone said her name.

She felt tears falling on her face.

"Please… please don't let me be too late."

Ahiru blinked her eyes open, and her world was cast in the shadows of the setting sun, the sky in hues of pink and orange, she turned her head to the side, she gasped.

"Fakir!" She lifted herself out of the water, her legs kicking furiously and she wrapped her arms around his neck, but he wasn't prepared for that, and he stumbled, doing his best to hold on to her, too.

She buried her face into the crook of his neck, her arms clinging to him, her hands crawling up his back.

She felt his arms there too, uncertain but pressing her to him, and she knew that he didn't want to let go, either.

"Ahiru." He whispered her name into her ear, as if he couldn't believe that she was there, and she only held him tighter.

"Did you win?" She asked.

"You're alive."

"Why wouldn't I be?" She said, laughing a bit.

"You-" He swallowed hard. "You don't remember?"

Ahiru stiffened, one hand went down to her side, where her wedding dress was slit, she felt her skin, cold now that it was exposed to the air, but there wasn't even a scar. She gasped and pulled away. "Uzura!"

Fakir's lips moved, but then pursed, as if he didn't know what happened to her.

Ahiru felt her heart starting to calm, it's wild beating slowing in rhythm. Her hand traveled back to his neck, her thumb caressing the nape of his neck, brushing against the short hair. "Did you cut it for the mask?"

"I didn't really have a choice in the matter." His hand encased her wrist, his own thumb rubbing circles against the back of her hand. "Do you like it?"

She narrowed her eyes in scrutiny, considering his face, and how it suited his features. She smiled and nodded. "I like it."

Fakir hung his head and his shoulders started to shake. She was worried she had made him upset, but he looked up at her, and he was laughing.

His smile was… bright.

One that was full of happiness, and joy, and adoration, but above all, it was filled with love.

His hands come up to either side of her face, running over her cheeks, and her lips as they turned upward to a grin to join him.

One hand cupped the back of her head, as he pressed his lips to hers, and she closed her eyes, unable to stop smiling and giggling.

He pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers. "I won."

Ahiru let out a breath, she had no doubts, but it didn't mean she wasn't allowed to worry. She tilted her head and pressed a quick kiss to his lips before she pulled away and grabbed his hands.

She looked them over.

"What are you doing?"

"Making sure you didn't lose anything." Her eyes shot up to meet his. "You didn't lose any fingers, that's good."

He smirked at her, he shook his head, and laid a hand on her neck, his thumb touching her jaw. "I didn't lose anything, the only thing I thought I was going to lose was you."

Her smile faded and she held his hand to her chest. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"I made you worry when you had the Königsspiel to worry about."

He scoffed. "Idiot."

"Hey-" But he cut her off as he pulled her to his chest. He fell back, half his body still in the water, the other on the banks of the pond.

She laid her head against his chest, her hand over his heart.

His hand went to her waist, his thumb poking the inside of her dress, rubbing over the fresh skin that was there.

Someone cleared their throat above them.

Ahiru blushed.

Fakir groaned.

Ahiru looked up at Miss. Edel, who stood a few feet away from them, struggling to fight down a grin.

"The Oak Tree would like to have a word with you." She said, "The both of you."

She walked away and Ahiru put her head back on his chest.

"C'mon." He said, he sat up, bringing her with him. "We can't stay like this."

Fakir hooked his arm under her knee again and carried her out of the water.

"Who's the Oak Tree?" Ahiru asked when he put her down, his hand immediately going to hold hers.

"The Queen of the Forest." He said, leading her away from the healing pool. "The one who decides if I am to be King."

Ahiru moved to intertwine their fingers, in her mind she could only see the brilliant flash of light, the moment Drosselmeyer grasped Uzura's shoulder, and the tree that took their place the next.

That tree?

It was proved to be true when Miss Edel lead them to the stump tree meadow, although it couldn't be called that now.

Not now that there was a hundred year-old Oak Tree in its midst.

It was like coming home, as soon as she stepped underneath the branches of the Oak Tree, warm and inviting, as all of the Forest had been.

Ahiru's eyes flashed from trunk, to tree branch, to root, and even without a face, she could tell the Oak Tree was smiling down upon them.

"Well done."

Ahiru jostled, her hand tightening on Fakir's and she stopped. She never expected her to…

But Fakir seemed unsurprised.

He bowed his head, and knelt on his knee, and Ahiru wasn't stupid enough to not follow suit.

"That is unnecessary, you have just proven to me that you are worthy of being my equal. Both of you."

Ahiru raised her head, her lips parted in confusion, because surely she had done nothing to prove herself.

Edel strode passed them and bent down, when she rose up, she held a crown in her hands, made from twisted branches and she placed it on Fakir's head.

"Six branches." The Oak Tree said. "To prove that you succeeded. And for you, my dear, I can only offer you the branches of my tree and the flowers of my field."

Something rustled the grass and Ahiru watched as the salamander poked its head out from the grass, a crown in it's mouth as well.

"I don't understand." Ahiru took it from the salamander, like Fakir's it was a crown of branches twisted together, but flowers had been woven through. Edel stepped forward, and taking it from her, crowned Ahiru. "I didn't run… the…"

"No, not a true Königsspiel, but you protected me, you ran into the forest with a dagger in your stomach, risking your life to protect me. And I know you would do the same for your people."

"My people." She whispered, her eyes flashing to Fakir, who watched her.

"Rise." The Oak Tree said. "The King and Queen of Bavaria, my chosen victors, Forest Walkers, Winners of the Königsspiel."

Together, they stood from their knelt positions.

"Uzura?" Ahiru asked, she let go of Fakir's hand and walked towards the Oak Tree.

"Oh, oh Ahiru, yes. I was Uzura, but now I am returned to my former glory."

Ahiru blinked away a tear, the thought of never seeing the little girl again…

"Do not worry, Uzura is not gone, she is still here, in me for she is me. A small piece of me."

"And Drosselmeyer?" Fakir asked, coming to stand by Ahiru's side.

"I took back the power I gave him, and I used him to give myself enough strength to return to this state of being."

"He will not corrupt you?"

The Oak Tree chuckled. "He is as good as dead, do not worry, Your Majesty, he cannot hurt any of us anymore.

"Hessia will lead you where Autor is, and then home."

"Hessia?" Fakir asked, but Ahiru bent down and ran her hand over the salamanders head.

Hessia poked out its fat tongue, before it waddled off through the grass, waiting for Fakir and Ahiru to follow.

And they did, they left the meadow hand in hand, but Ahiru paused before they walked back into the forest, a look past her shoulder aimed at the Oak Tree lived in the meadow, standing tall and proudly, the last light of the sun fading as stars peaked through the sky, and the light of the moon shining of the leaves of the Tree.

Edel smiled at them, the reins of Fakir's horse in her hand.

"Miss. Edel, will you come too?"

Edel shook her head. "This is my home, I belong with and to the Oak Tree."

"But I can come and see you, right?"

Edel reached out and patted her cheek. "Always."

Ahiru wrapped her arms around Edel. "I'll miss you."

Edel smiled and pet Ahiru's head. "And I, you."

Ahiru pulled away, a tearful smile on her face. "Thank you, for everything."

Ahiru reached out for Fakir's hand, who lifted her onto the horse and they were led through the wood.

Fakir told Ahiru about the tests, about how the trees were alive, how they were the ones to hand out the trials, and there were no ogres and beasts like foretold.

They found Autor talking to himself, but they both knew better.

Ahiru dismounted and called out his name, and he seemed upset the illusion was broken.

"So you won?"

"Yes."

"Congratulations."

Autor gave Fakir an uncertain bow and Fakir immediately shook his head.

"It's alright, you don't have to."

Hessia lead them to the treeline, and summer was gone, Ahiru shivered as biting winter winds greeted them as they stepped out of the forest, into the field outside the western wall.

The moon was high in the sky and the wall was lit by fire, a bell was rung, and there was shouting, and the large gates opened.

It was as if the entire kingdom rushed out to them, some holding lanterns, others torches, but they all rushed out to meet the victor.

"Fakir!"

Fakir turned his head to Mytho, who held Rue's hand, as they pushed through the crowds.

"Who won?"

Never before had two walked out of the forest, much less three.

One hundred men could walk in to challenge one another in the Königsspiel, and only one would survive. It was the way.

The crowd started to gossip, and soon the clammer was overwhelming, it would be impossible to judge the outcome, if they both claimed to be victors, how would they decide who sat on the throne? Or perhaps they could have two Kings.

Fakir looked down at his subjects, he stood above them on the hill that lead up to the forest, his mind racing, he knew that Autor did not want to sit on the throne, but in a moment of power hungry greed, he could claim his victory. He looked down at his subjects, and they looked up to him.

He opened his mouth to speak, but what could he say that would convince them?

The entire kingdom could see him, but they could see Autor too.

He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes, as he knelt beside Fakir, bowing to him.

Fakir was surprised, he never thought that Autor would ever bow his waist to anyone. Or that he could.

Ahiru knelt as well, bowing her head, and he wanted to tell her not to, to rise back up, but his attention was pulled to Mytho and Rue, and even his mother who walked halfway up the hill to stand before them; kneeling and bowing their heads as well.

He watched the Nobles, the Farmers, the Artisans, the Actors, he saw Charon and Raetsel, he saw the servants of the palace, all who wore his pin and all who didn't. Even the godforsaken Bookmen bent their knees.

Fakir looked back to Ahiru, he squatted beside her, lifting her head to look at him and he brought her up, and together they looked out over the sea of people that bowed to the King and Queen of Bavaria, the winners of the Königsspiel.

FAKIR WOKE UP TO sunlight pouring into the room.

The door was open.

He pushed himself up on his elbows, smirking lightly before sighing and throwing the blankets off his body.

Fakir leaned against the door frame, warm summer air greeted him, and a cool breeze caressed him.

He watched his wife and Queen sitting at the edge of the pond, her legs folded under her, her hair pulled over her shoulder as she ran a hair brush through it.

He sat behind her and he could hear her humming. She squeaked when his arms wrapped around her stomach and pulled her to his chest, planting his lips to her neck, he started kissing her.

"Hey, Fakir! You finally woke up."

"Finally? What's that supposed to mean?"

She giggled, and he could feel it against his chest. "I watched the sunrise, and the ducks wake up, and I fed the birds. All while you were sleeping." She wiggled around until she faced him, then she kissed his jaw. "You sleep a lot."

"I work a lot. You go to bed early."

"I go to bed at a reasonable time!" She turned back around sharply and burrowed into his chest, she placed her hand on the skin of his thigh. "Do you have to work today, too?"

"Of course, I don't get days off."

Her thumb ran in circles around and around and around, until the spot was numb.

"Well, if you had me all to yourself for the whole day, what would you do," He whispered in her ear. "Your Majesty."

She giggled. "Don't call me that."

He shook his head, his nose nuzzling against the flesh of her neck. "What would you prefer? Your eminence? My Queen?"

"Fakir! Stop it, I'm not really a Queen."

Fakir furrowed his eyebrows and tucked her head under his chin. "Oh? So am I a King with a wife but no Queen?"

Ahiru pulled her legs up to her chest and pushed away from him, wrapping her arms around her shins.

"What happened?" He asked, his voice softened.

"Do you know what they call me? The Peasant Queen?"

He had heard that title in passing, servants whispering the name, old friends and followers. He was still debating whether he should tolerate it or put an end to it. It wasn't as if being a peasant was anything to be ashamed of, she was one and he had lived as one for twenty-one years.

But if it bothered her, it bothered him.

"I've heard it being said. What- what about it upsets you?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "It just doesn't sound nice. It's mean."

"No, it's more than that." He leaned forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Tell me."

She looked back at his hand, then at him.

They were interrupted by a knock at the garden door. "Your Majesty?"

Fakir groaned. "What?" He said rather sharply and threw a glare over his shoulder.

The poor servant that had been sent to fetch him squawked and straightened. "The- the meeting!"

Fakir sighed. "Right."

He stood before offering Ahiru his hand, and she stood too, but she clung to him, her other hand iron clad around his elbow, her chest pressed to his.

Fakir glanced at the servant. "Leave."

He let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her instead. He didn't watch the servant escape, but could hear his shuffling feet as he fled.

"You should be nicer, Fakir. You never know when they might rebel against you."

The grip on his elbow lessened, and wandered to his chest, clutching his nightshirt.

"Peasant Queen? It's a direct contradiction. Like dirty soap, or a dull sword. It sounds like teasing, like they're mocking me."

"I promise, they're not."

"What if they don't want me to be Queen? I don't know any of the things Rue knows, like how to rule or economics. All I know how to do is sit on a throne. Which fork to use. How to cast a fishing net."

"What did you do yesterday? That I had to go out and find you and drag you home so you could have dinner with me?"

"I was just out with the children."

He brushed her hair behind her ear, his fingers trailing down her jaw before reaching her chin and tilting her gaze until she met his eyes. "You were working, dirtying your hands and helping Cordelia's mother."

"Her husband's dead and she has no sons! It's almost fall and she still needed to plough half the field!"

"You still have dirt under your nails. And the day before that?"

"Fakir, I-"

"The day before that?"

She bit her lip. "I was in the kitchen helping Ebine make a traditional Arnis dish."

"With enough surplus for the entire castle and you did dishes after. Ahiru, you already are a great Queen, how many other Queens would dirty their hands to make sure that a widow and single mother would have enough time to plant before the harvest? How many others spend their warm afternoons in a hot kitchen, deboning fish and scrubbing at plates? You serve the people in a way no other Queen would dare to think of, perhaps they aren't calling you the Peasant Queen, but the Peasant's Queen. Given the choice, I am sure they would choose no other."

"You think so?" She wiped at her eye with a balled up fist.

"Oh, I know so."

She sniffled and threw her arms around his neck, her fingers digging into the strands of hair at the nape of his neck, slowly growing back.

IT TOOK ANOTHER KNOCK at their chamber doors to pull them away from their embrace, for Fakir to rise and prepare for the meeting he was supposed to be at half an hour ago.

So of course when he walked in it was all chaos.

It was typical of the nobles to be at each other's throats when Fakir wasn't there to keep them from ripping out jugulars.

"Fakir! We thought you had already left for Arnis." Berinhard came up behind Fakir and clapped him on the shoulder. Berinhard was a giant of a man, broad chest, broad shoulders, a head taller than Fakir, to this day Fakir wondered how he knocked Bernie off his horse. "Val and His Grace the Duke Felix are fighting again."

"We are not!" Came the viscous response from halfway across the room.

"Your Majesty," Adaline wrapped her hand around Fakir's elbow and lead him to his chair at the head of the table. "Tell me, how are Queen and King of Baden-Württenberg's peace campaign?"

"As well as to be expected when battle laden states are offered chances of peace after generations of war. Rue has her work cut out for her."

"True, but she's already a more promising ruler than her father before her." Adaline nodded, stroking her chin in thought. "Although, having Mytho on her arm must make everything better."

It was easier, with Mytho by her side. The new King of Baden-Württemberg was beloved by all, and soon he was able to wipe away all the bad blood.

They had met with every state her father laid siege on, and had moved on to other states, reaching out a hand of friendship.

And Fakir had to admit, they were making better progress than he originally thought they would.

He smiled at Adaline. "It does, but this may be Baden's most challenging battle yet."

Fakir stood just behind his chair, readying himself for whatever mayhem lay before him.

"-I'm not saying that! I'm saying that maybe we should think not only of Nordy but of all of Bavaria!" Valarie shouted.

"And so you're saying I'm not?" The Duke of Verstand, Felix, raised a brow. It wasn't uncommon that Fakir would find them bickering, and still bickering, even after he had entered and made his presence known.

"What now?" He muttered under his breath.

"Nothing of importance, Your Majesty." Reginold told him. He cleared his throat. "Now that his Royal Majesty is here, we can start the meeting."

Valarie and Felix paused in their fighting and looked over at Fakir.

They came to meet at the table, their hands rested on the backs of their chairs until Fakir sat, and once he did, chairs scraped against the stone floor and he was joined by his council.

The new Bookmen.

Benek and Adaline sat to his left, and Felix took his spot on the right.

The meeting room of the Bookmen had been monumentous, accommodated to fit fifty men, was now too large for seven members. A table had been put into the space, long and oval in shape, with Fakir at it's head, his back to the Forest.

"We won't be gone for long, I trust that the safety of my kingdom and state is in good hands?"

"Of course, Your Majesty." Benek said, "My only concern is that Valarie and Felix will start a Civil War."

Valerie and Felix both glared at him, but the others laughed, even Fakir smirked.

Berinhard patted his sister's head. "Val only likes to argue with Felix; she only punches me."

"Besides, I doubt if Felix could fight at all." Mildred muttered under her breath to Reginald.

"Good." Fakir nodded. "We still have war torn areas of the state that need aid and-"

"Fakir." Adaline smiled, she reached across the table and put her hand on his forearm. "We have been discussing these issues for over a year, you have worn yourself to the bone, go find your wife and take leave. We will be fine."

Adaline let go and Fakir sighed. "It's the first time that I left-"

"Not to worry, Fakir, not to worry!" Reginald tutted, his hands draped over his cane. "We have trusted in your decision and followed you thus far. We will not break all this hard work."

Reginald stood, he placed his right hand over his heart and bowed. "The House of Vermittlung stands with you."

Mildred gave Fakir a warm smile, standing next to Reginald. "The House of Taktik stands with you, Your Majesty."

Valerie and Berinhard stood. "The House of Stärke stands with you."

Benek and Adaline stood, "The House of Stimmung stands with you."

Felix stood, giving Fakir a slight bow. "The House of Verstand stands with you."

Fakir rose from his chair and inclined his head.

They walked out of the council room, but Fakir remained. It was like they didn't even need him.

"I have to say, I prefer this generation of Bookmen than the old one." Helmia walked into the room and smiled at Fakir. "You're doing very well, love."

"Thank you. I said it before, you are welcome to come with us."

Helmia rolled her eyes and shook her head. "And leave those guys by themselves? I think not. Someone has to take care of your kingdom."

"They'll do fine."

"Fakir, they haven't been raised to take care of a Kingdom, it's been a long time since the Nobles were Bookmen."

Fakir nodded, he offered Helmia his arm and they walked out of the room. "Yes, but it's what the First King did."

Helmia patted his arm. "I know, besides, I think it's great seeing them have something to do. Felix getting out of the house is a sight to behold, that little bookworm."

"If only he and Valerie would stop bickering."

"She's a hotheaded girl." Helmia smirked. "I like her. She'll do well."

Fakir couldn't help but agree, and it saved him from having to bicker, he was able to watch from the sidelines and weigh out both options before he came to a decision.

"Although, what doesn't help is Berinhard riling her up."

"That's just siblings." Helmia smiled. "I remember, watching Autor and Mytho grow up together, and you and Mytho. There wasn't a day that went by where something came up."

Fakir furrowed his brow. "Mytho and I didn't fight."

"Are you kidding me?" Helmia put a hand on her hip. "You didn't complain to me, you would complain to the head of house, or whoever was taking care of you that day, but I still overheard you! I could give you examples if you want me to refresh your memory."

"Mother-"

"'Mytho broke my sword!' 'Fakir punched me!'"

"That was an accident!"

Helmia chuckled. "See? You weren't so perfect."

"I never said I was." Fakir muttered under his breath.

"You'll understand soon, I'm sure."

Fakir blushed. "I don't know what you mean by that."

"Really? You don't know? You've been married for over a year and you don't know-"

"Alright! Alright." Fakir glared at her but all she did was laugh.

"She's a little young, but nineteen isn't the youngest a woman has been when she started having children."

"We still have a war torn state to worry over, adding children to the mix wouldn't be the wisest decision."

"We are less wartorn now that you are on the throne."

Fakir smiled. "Thank you, mom."

"Ah, there's that smile." Helmia patted his cheek. "Do you know how handsome you are when you smile?"

"Mother."

"I mean it! No wonder Ahiru fell for you so quickly."

"Mother."

"What? I'm teasing."

They heard the hurried steps of someone running, and paused, looking down the hallway as Dylan rounded the corner and sighed in relief when he found them.

"Your Majesty!" He cried out.

Fakir made worried eye contact with his mother before he let go and raced to meet the servant. "What is it?" Fakir asked, not even bothering to scold him for running, as if he would ever listen.

"No one-" A pant. "Can find the Queen."

"Oh."

"Oh? That's all you have to say?"

Helmia came up beside him. "What is it?"

"Ahiru's missing." Fakir told her.

"Oh."

Dylan looked between the two, dumbfounded that they weren't as panicked as he was that the Queen was missing.

"Mother, why don't you talk to Dylan about his running problem."

Helmia blinked. "What running problem?"

Fakir gave Dylan a quirked brow and a small smirk. "The fact that every time he runs he starts wheezing, and that he runs everywhere."

Helmia gasped. "Dylan." She said, in a way that expressed motherly disappointment.

"Your- your Majesty." He raised his hands, but it was too late for him, Helmia had already planted her hands on her hips and started wagging her finger.

"You have to be more careful!"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"What will happen if you're running-"

Fakir strolled away, he almost felt bad for unleashing his mother on the poor creature, but someone had to teach him a lesson.

Finding his wife was almost too easy, and maybe if she wasn't here he would have been concerned, but there she was, sitting in the middle of the meadow braiding flower crowns with Edel and little Uzura.

"You have Dylan worried sick, Your Majesty." He called out, stepping away from the shade of the trees and into the sunlight.

Ahiru placed her finished crown on Uzura's little head. "I never told him to worry about me."

"Our train leaves soon, they probably thought you were backing out."

Ahiru held her hand out to him and he pulled her up from her grassy seat.

"Leaving me so soon?" Came the voice of the Oak Tree.

"Just for a week. A courtesy visit to Arnis." Fakir told the Oak Tree.

Uzura had disappeared, but her flower crown hung from a branch.

Warm laughter filled the meadow. "Then you must be on your way."

Ahiru kissed Edel good bye, and touched the palm of her hand to the bark of the Oak Tree.

He took her hand and they left the thick woods.

"INTRODUCING, THEIR ROYAL MAJESTIES, The King Fakir Lohengrin of Bavaria, and the Queen Ahiru of Bavaria."

Fakir kept his jaw level as he and Ahiru walked into the ballroom, he didn't offer smiles and he only looked into the eyes of Mytho and Rue.

But his eyes flashed to Ahiru, and he saw her nervous smile, her hand on his arm tightened, he watched her chest as it started to heave.

"It is an honor to have you." Queen Paulamoni stated, bowing low but never taking her eyes from them. "The King and Queen of the most powerful state in all of Germany."

"You flatter me." Fakir said.

"Let me introduce my sons and their wives."

Fakir didn't take in their names, he kept his eyes on Ahiru, watching her pained reaction as she was introduced to people she once considered family.

"And my youngest, Prince Gero and his betrothed, the Duchess Mila Aadya."

Gero couldn't even look Ahiru in the eye, but Fakir glared down at him and when Gero met the King's scathing eyes, he shriveled.

"A lovely family, your majesty." Fakir told her highness.

She smiled, a little too tightly, but her husband, King Paulo called the attention to the members of his party, thanking them for being here and asking them to enjoy the music, the food, and any other accomadies their castle could supply.

"Let's get out of here." Ahiru whispered in his ear.

"One dance." Fakir whispered back. "That was the deal."

"My stomach is in knots, Fakir, I thought I could face him, but-"

"Ahiru," Fakir placed his hand on her cheek, guiding her to look at him rather than her old love. "You stand before him as a Queen, you have power he will never taste."

"But he will always see me as the fisherman's daughter." She shook her head.

"And?" Fakir smirked. "He'll never do better in life."

"One dance?"

Fakir nodded, pulling her to him too closely. "One dance." And he waltzed her across the floor.

IT WAS DARK WHEN they left, the moon high in the sky, and they both felt devious.

She lead him across the cobblestone streets of Arnis, her feet heading north.

They left after their one dance, and they should have stayed for the rest of the night, but they left instead, heading out to sea.

She lead him to a secret place, a cove, guarded by cliffs they had to climb down until they stood on the sandy shore looking at the moon rise above the dark blue sea.

"Isn't it beautiful?" She grinned, she turned around to look back at him and kicked off her shoes.

She was glad the current style of dress wasn't layers and layers of clothing.

And it wasn't hard to convince Fakir to follow her lead.

She stripped down to her chemise and ran out into the icy water, meeting the waves with force, and she giggled as the ocean splashed around her.

It would have been easy to swim out until her feet no longer touched the ocean floor, but Fakir didn't let her, he took her hand and kept her in the shallows.

He tried to kiss her, he pet her cheek and gave her that look that made her knees go weak, but a strong wave crashed into them, sending them under.

Ahiru laughed, whipping her hair out behind her, she rose to her knees, but Fakir was a sputtering mess.

The waves turned more gentle and she shuffled over to him, helping him rise up and brushing the salty sea hair from his eyes.

"We should come back in the morning when it's warmer! Then we can go all the way out."

"I don't think it gets warm out here." He told her, his lips turning purple.

"Well, it gets less cold." She smiled at his frown, screeching when he sloshed a hand full of water at her.

Ahiru ran out of the water, but he followed after her, she only had a head start because she had walked in the ocean before and knew when to stand still.

Fakir was knocked down twice more, but once he reached dry sand he knew she was a goner.

He caught up to her, his arms wrapping around her waist sending them tumbling to the ground.

She rolled under him onto her back, shaking with laughter and all he could do was admire her.

He brushed a strand of hair from her face and took the chance to kiss her, her lips still cold from the water, but maybe he could make her warmer.

IT WAS WARMER IN the morning, when they went on a walk to her old house, it was practically falling in on itself, but it was a building with respect, treated with respect; it had earned respect.

She held his hand as she lead him through the wobbling door, across creaky floorboards and out the back into a garden that was overrun with weeds.

Ahiru knelt between two gravestones, covered in moss, one much more than the other.

She reached forward and wiped it away with her thumb, just enough to reveal their names.

"Papa, mama, I want you to meet Fakir. My husband." Her voice shook and the corners of her eyes filled with tears.

Fakir greeted both of the gravestones. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

She seemed surprised, as if she didn't expect him to say anything to the two gravestones as she did.

"He's going to take care of me."

"I will."

"And I- I'm sorry I can't continue the business, papa." Her bottom lip quivered. "Noah took over, he's doing a good job, he keeps your morals, he keeps Arnis fed."

"You'll be happy to hear what she's doing instead." Fakir said, addressing the stone with less moss. "She is now the Queen of Bavaria. You were right to trust her with your business, if she had taken over she only would have prospered."

Ahiru took his hand.

They stayed by the graves not much longer, just long enough for Ahiru to leave her two gifts, and then they left, they left her parents, they left her cottage, they left the palace and Arnis, and they went home.

They went to Bavaria.

AHIRU WAS ALWAYS EXCITED when Dylan personally delivered her the letters sent across oceans and from distant lands, sometimes written on fine, crisp paper, and other times written on the backs of torn out pages from books. Books, she was assured, that were silly and unimportant.

She would drag Fakir into reading them with her even when he claimed he didn't care about what they were doing.

She would receive two papers, one from Femio and the other from Autor.

Femio sent her drawings, little patterns to embroider to the trim of dress hems or along the borders of sleeves. Sometimes she would open up the folded page to see a gown inspired by the world around him, and her heart would race with excitement when she recognized the patterns he used.

Autor would send her his findings.

Anything and everything he learned he tried to cram onto the pages and he would ramble about his discoveries. He assured her that he was keeping a more detailed journal, and one day hoped to publish his newly acquired knowledge for the world.

She kept them all safely tucked away, and waited for the days they would come back.

Sometimes they stayed for a week, sometimes a whole month, before they would go back. Out into the world to discover something new and never before seen.

Autor and Ahiru would take walks in the garden after lunch, and he would tell her in more detail about his adventures, the people he had met - and offended - and all his studies.

But despite the language barrier, the Chinese have been very kind to us, and the old man who has let us stay with him has been showing me some ancient herbal medicine techniques that I think could have healed any ailment caused by the Bubonic Pl-

"Ahiru, put it down." Fakir brushed her hair over her shoulder. "You've been reading it for the past hour."

Ahiru sighed and placed it on her nightstand, she blew out the candle. "I miss them."

"They'll be back for our anniversary, I'm sure. They never miss it."

Ahiru leaned back into him as he ran his hand through her hair. "And they always bring the best gifts!"

"Oh, so that's what you care about."

Ahiru giggled, and started to argue, and he argued back, but soon enough she yawned, and that made him yawn, and he leaned over to kiss her goodnight.

A WOMAN STOOD WITH her eyes undetermined, picking between a deeper red and a brighter red, which one would match the Queen's pendant more?

"How much longer?"

"Hold still."

"Fakir." She whined his name. "My back is starting to hurt."

"And? My feet have been hurting for the past hour."

"What! You should have said something!" Ahiru stood. "Take the chair."

"Ahiru sit down."

"No! Your feet hurt! You should sit down!."

"That's not the portrait."

"You didn't even want to do it, why do you care now?"

"Because now the painter needs us to sit still."

"But I feel bad! Sit."

"No."

"Sit!"

"I will not."

The painter raised her head, finally deciding in a deeper red, like the coursing blood as it raced through a heart, when she saw Her Majesty the Queen pulling at the King's arm in a poor attempt to get him to move.

IT WASN'T OFTEN THAT Ahiru wore a crown, during a ball, at a parade, but lately she had taken to wearing her crown more often.

Fakir sat in a chair, a book in his hand, and he couldn't help but smile and watch them.

She wore her crown for her son.

Held tightly to her chest, he would stretch out his hand to pull it off her head and hold it in his tiny grasp.

She wore softer fabrics for him as well, she braided her hair down her back, and she wore her crown, so he could take it.

Fakir watched her smile and laugh, until their son wiggled out of her grasp and ran around with the crown in his hands, giggling as she chased after him.

Fakir was never able to stop the corner of his lip from twitching.

Ahiru knelt before Lohengrin, the tiny prince, and he put the crown on her head.

The Queen of Bavaria with her son, and the King watching somewhere not too far away.

The Oak Tree smiled, as well as a tree could smile, as the King and Queen left the forest. Their crowns of twigs and flowers awkwardly placed on their heads. They would get used to it, she had foreseen it.

Edel raised a hand and placed it on the trunk of the Oak Tree. "And now?"

"And now we watch them grow. Together, they truly will be the greatest King and Queen the world has seen."

Edel looked back to them, nothing but retreating shadows now.

"What will they accomplish?"

"Love."

Thanks to everyone for reading this, it was a pleasure to write and I hope it was just as enjoyable to read. This will be my last multi-chapter fanfiction for Princess Tutu for a while, if not forever. I'll still write for Fakiru week and I still have my Friday Spin Classes (found on Tumblr, but will soon be posted here as well), and I may do some heavy editing for '82 or OMAD if it bothers me enough. Again, thank you, and I hope this was the ending you were waiting for.