Disclaimer: I do not own Princess Tutu. I'd have to understand ballet for that, which would probably mean that I would be a ballerina. I wish.
Der Schwan und der Ritter
The first snow fell lightly over Kinkan early that year, which made Ahiru a cheerful little girl. Her freckled cheeks became rosy circles on her face, accenting her ocean-like eyes.
Ahiru walked slowly along the path across town, which was quietly and surprisingly empty. The cold seemed to have bit everyone else to the core, but she loved the way the cardinals gave a splash of red and the lakes gave a dash of blue in the white world.
The sky was a sea of white and blue, waves of clouds tumbling softly over each other. Her orange, feathery hair and green dress matched nicely with the blue and the white of the above plains. It was truly a magical scene, but the waves built up a strong much for a possible disaster, for snow was just rain with a cold touch.
Fakir took soft steps toward her, white flakes crunching softly under his feet. He watched as she sat down by the pond and traced her fingers along the smooth, glassy ice.
Her nails etched a drawing in the glass. Fakir leaned over behind a pine tree to catch a glimpse of the picture.
It was a heart shard, the final heart shard, with it's compartments and wings on the sides. She drew a small break in its side.
Fakir wondered what she was thinking. Did she miss being in the story? Having friends? Knowing what life held next?
Did she miss Mytho?
Fakir scolded himself for such envious thoughts. Ahiru wasn't his, and she could have whatever feelings she liked.
The young woman let a salty tear drop down from her red cheeks onto the picture. Her bun of red hair was messy and falling out as she silently let the tears fall.
She abruptly turned around to get back to Fakir's and warm up, but she quickly spotted the young man watching her from the green forest.
Fakir looked at her knowingly and she walked over to him.
"What are you doing out here?" she asked, her voice smooth as silk but still high-pitched as it always had been.
"Just admiring the snow," Fakir lied, trying to put an explanation in for following the girl.
"But it's so cold," she reasoned.
"It's no matter to me."
They stood there with deep hearts for a moment, before Fakir took Ahiru's hand and let her to the buildings of town.
"Do you miss the story?" he asked her after a moment.
"No," Ahiru said, trying to mask her feelings
"What about your friends and ballet class? And being Princess Tutu?"
She was thoughtful for a moment.
"I don't think so," she said, her voice cracking and another rain drop calling down her cheek.
Fakir pulled her head close to his shoulder as the rain came down in buckets.
"What is going to happen to us? Are we just going to live our lives, then die? What are we supposed to do with nothing we're supposed to do?" Ahiru asked.
"I don't know, Princess. Maybe we could join Mytho and Rue someday, and live forever in freedom."
"Why did I have to lose everything to the story? The story kept my friends and dancing and... And..." Ahiru couldn't finish her sentence.
"Mytho?" Fakir guessed.
The tears stopped, and Ahiru looked up to Fakir. "Do you miss the story, too?"
Fakir though a moment. "Sometimes," he replied. "Sometimes it was nice to have thought I was useful and had a purpose. And to have just lived, and always had someone to care about me as a friend."
"You still do," Ahiru said.
Fakir kissed her forehead. "I do," he said. "But it just isn't the same."
The brown-stoned rooftops were picturesque all around them as the pair walked softly down the way, turning to head back home.
It was a sweet silence up until they were at the house, its wooden and stone walls cold and hard, but welcoming.
"The story didn't have all you had, Ahiru."
"What do you mean?" Ahiru looked into his eyes.
"We still have each other. And that's just enough."
Ahiru smiled, then rushed inside and got something. Fakir had a quick puzzled expression but was quickly rushed back to reality when Ahiru came back out again.
Her pointe shoes matched her now light blue dress. "Please, my knight," she said, "come dance with me."
Fakir took her hand lightly and they danced a pas de deux together.
They spun and swirled messily and beautifully, so bitterly pure and yet sweetly imperfect. The flakes started falling down lightly in their hair.
"Let's forget this story," Ahiru said. "Let's just be ourselves from now on."
"Let's." And the final act was a lift, led between the two in first tastes of freedom. They were no longer just characters of someone else, and their feelings were their own. Their love was their own.
And there they were, der schwan und der ritter, the swan and the knight, free from the story at last, the soul mates of destiny and the creators of imagination.
AN: This was my favorite chapter to write and to read. I just can't describe what this show is to me in words. So I hope you liked my story, and I've tons of other stuff to post, too, so review and follow dears! I will be posting more soon.