Just a Girl
It felt like she was being pulled apart! Duckie groaned and tried to move away from the pain but just didn't seem to have the strength. Her body felt so heavy, far too heavy, while she felt so weak. The pulling sensation was fading but in its wake was a burning fire that permeated her whole being. Duckie wasn't sure how long she stayed like that, feeling as if she were being weighed down, sweating so badly the bed she was on felt soaked, her throat parched as if she were lost in a desert, but eventually the heat too began to fade. There were glimpses then, a cool clothe on her forehead, voices murmuring quietly near her head, warm liquid poured into her mouth... all scattered and just as vague as the all consuming feeling of being pulled had been.
One afternoon Duckie opened her eyes and actually focused on the room around her, it was familiar but she couldn't place it for the life of her. She tried to sit up to get a better view but found that she was still too weak even if her body didn't feel quite so heavy anymore. Rather than give up she struggled harder to move when a pair of strong hands gently pushed her down. "Stop that, you're too weak to go anywhere yet."
She looked up into a pair of jade eyes in a stern looking face framed by dark hair. "Fakir?" She knew him, but she couldn't remember how or from where. "What...?" Duckie croaked, her whole throat felt parched and she licked her dry lips to try again. Fakir held a cup of warm tea up to her face and helped her drink it. There was a bitter taste of medicine mixed in with the lemon and honey, Ducky nearly gagged but forced herself to drink it. She knew the boy would make a fuss if she didn't.
"You've had a fever for a few days," Fakir supplied to her half asked question while she gulped at the tea. He pulled it away before she could do something stupid like choke on it as he continued, "You're still pretty weak so you'll have to stay in bed for a few more days but at least the fever finally broke."
"I don't remember..." Duckie trailed off again, the effort just to speak seemed like a bit much which just made her frown.
"There was a summer rain storm, you got caught out in it and didn't dry off properly afterwards. You'd have gotten off with nothing but a cold but you wouldn't stay in bed and rest like you need to right now. So just go to sleep and I'll check on you later." Duckie felt like retorting, he was just being so... so Fakir right now! But she was tired and her eyelids were getting heavier. She nodded and relaxed deeper into the pillow, letting sleep overtake her again. This time she slept heavily, no more strange dreams.
When next Duckie woke it was early in the morning, clear bright light was streaming gently through the open curtains and the air had a delightful chill to it. She suspected it was crisp and fresh outside the window but the room felt quite stuffy. She shifted and scooted up a bit, trying to sit up and have a good look around the room. It wasn't long before her muscles gave in and left her lying against the pillow but at least she got a slightly better view. A completely empty writing desk, a familiar looking lamp that tugged at her memory, a plain door closed tightly, and not much else. It was, in all, a very Spartan room. After some time to try and figure out why the room seemed so familiar and not at the same time the boy from the day before entered carrying a tray with several dishes sitting on it. "Good morning, Duckie," He greeted.
Duckie furrowed her brow as she looked up at him. "Who are you?"
"What?" Fakir reeled back in shock, nearly dropping the tray. "Duckie... what do you... you know who I am."
"I know your name is Fakir and I think we're friends but I don't remember how we met or where or who you are. I can't remember anything at all!" Duckie started to tear up, she felt very vulnerable being stripped of her memory.
Fakir set the tray aside and brushed Duckie's hair aside, feeling the temperature of her forehead. "You still feel a little warm but the fever's pretty much gone, you probably lost your memory because you were so sick." Duckie sniffled and nodded a little, she supposed that made sense. "Something to eat and plenty of bed rest and you'll be back to normal in no time, okay?" Duckie nodded and made another attempt to sit up so she could get something to eat. Instead of pushing her down again Fakir helped her to sit up and pulled up a chair next to the bed. "Here, open up." He picked up the bowl from the tray and a spoon, Duckie could smell chicken broth and assorted other scents wafting up in the steam.
"I can feed myself." The girl made a face at the boy as he held up a spoon brimming with soup up to her.
"I don't trust you not to make a big mess. Just be good and let me feed you now and I promise I'll let you feed yourself at lunch, okay?" He held up the spoon of soup again and offered it to the stubborn girl. She grimaced but finally nodded and let him feed her. She couldn't help feeling inexplicably happy that he was taking care of her while at the same time feeling angry that he was treating her like a small child.
Duckie looked both ways, peering carefully out the door before quietly slipping into the hallway. She had just spent the last three days holed up in that tiny room with only that jerk and occasionally his sweet foster father for company. Not that Duckie minded Fakir's behavior that much, but there was only so much of him she could take at one time. And that room was so dull! She had already read all the books that he had left her to read, counted all the boards that made up the floor, and memorized the little patch of scenery she could see through the window and if she didn't get out for a little bit she would go completely insane! Thus Duckie reasoned with herself that so long as she stayed indoors she would be all right.
She crept as quietly as possible down the hallway and soon found another closed door, quickly deciding that it was better to just have a look around and then head back to the room before Fakir decided to check on her. She passed two more doors, snuck through a kitchen, and then came to a stair well, this decision wasn't made as quickly. On the one hand she was still recovering from being seriously ill and should probably turn back now, on the other she was feeling quite energetic and her curiosity was starting to burn. A quick glance back to make sure no one was following and to remind herself that the room wasn't that far away followed by quick, dainty steps down the stairs. When she got to the bottom Duckie realized that she could hear voices just around the corner from the landing, she stood quite still and tried to listen but they were talking in hushed voices and couldn't make any of it out. She took a deep breath and peeked quickly around the corner.
It was a room full old things, swords, vases, shields, pieces of armor, etc... At the far end of the over stuffed room were two people, Fakir and Charon from the looks of it, facing away and doing something with their hands while quietly chatting with each other. Duckie was grateful they were looking away from her and quickly hid back behind the stair well. Now seemed as good a time as any to head back to the room and she quickly started back up the stairs. Unfortunately for Duckie the effort quickly exhausted her, leaving her panting half way up the stairs and struggling just to get up the next step. As she adjusted her grip on the rail to pull herself up her hand slipped and she fell unceremoniously down the stairs with a great noise and a crash landing at the bottom. "Owwww..." The poor girl would have tried to pull herself back up but two sets of hands quickly did that for her.
"What are you doing out of bed? Did you hurt yourself? Moron, you're just going to make yourself sicker!" Fakir shot off his inquiries while holding her steady, Charon was batting at some dirt on her nightgown and chuckling quietly to himself. "Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"
Duckie glared at Fakir, his attitude was really annoying her. "I was bored and just wanted to look around a little, I was going right back to my room when I fell." She glared balefully at the youth who was currently supporting her weight and dared him to yell at her more. Instead he only sighed.
"If you hadn't left the room at all you wouldn't be in this mess. C'mon, let's get you back into bed." He easily lifted her up princess style and started carrying her up the stairs, Charon had mysteriously vanished before she could call for help. Duckie blushed at the attention, she really couldn't help herself with the way she was being carried. But it only lasted for a moment, "Man, you're heavy. What have you been eating?"
"Shut up! I've only been eating what you guys have been feeding me, and I'm not that heavy, I'm sure."
"You're so heavy I'm going to get hurt and then we'll both be stuck in our rooms with nothing to do." They bantered like this all the way up the stairs and into Duckie's room where Fakir immediately tucked her in, ordered her to stay right where she was, and fetched her some more books as well as pencils and paper. "Now, stay here and don't leave again until you're well again," Fakir ordered sternly and left, Duckie wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out as he shut the door behind him. At least she had some new books to read now, with a sigh she opened up the first one and began reading.
Duckie snuck out twice more, with the same results, before she was finally declared fit to leave her room. It had been an agonizing week, Duckie often lamenting how boring books in general were and longing to go outside and feel the grass between her feet. She usually kept quiet about her feelings but they would boil over when she'd get caught by Fakir and carried back to bed. It was quite a relief to finally be told that she could actually go out without getting in trouble!
Duckie hummed a happy tune while she finished getting dressed, a happy little yellow outfit that put her in an extra good mood. With confident steps she left the room and walked right into the dining room where Charon was setting the breakfast table. "Good morning, Duckie, how are you feeling today?"
"I'm feeling really good this morning, Charon! Like I could take on the world!"
"Just don't over do it, you're still a little weak and need to take it easy." He didn't notice that the girl he was talking to had become distracted and was no longer paying him any attention. Instead she was staring into a pair of wide, blue eyes that eerily reminded her of her own.
"Charon, why is there a duck sitting on the table?" Duckie pointed at the little yellow duck who was calmly sitting on the table as if it was the most normal thing.
"Oh, she's another invalid," Charon replied cheerfully while placing a small bowl of bread crumbs in front of the duck and affectionately petting her head. "Poor little thing was injured and stuck out in the storm, then you rescued her and brought her back to the house. Of course, you fussing over her is part of why you got so sick in the first place. About ready for breakfast?"
Duckie looked at the duck, who was happily pecking at her own breakfast, and thought over what Charon had told her. "I guess so..." She didn't remember the summer storm that she had been told about, but then again she didn't remember much of anything right now. Duckie sat quietly through breakfast, staring at the duck while chewing thoughtfully. She sat quietly outside while staring at the duck sitting next to her, Charon thought the two invalids could keep each other company. She sat quietly at the table for lunching, munching slowly while staring at the duck pecking breadcrumbs on the table again. She sat quietly in the living room while staring at the duck sitting happily in a basket on the floor. It was while she sat quietly through dinner, slowing nibbling her meal while staring at the duck some more, that Fakir finally could not take any of her strange behavior anymore.
"In all the time I've known you, you have never been so quiet! What in the world is wrong with you?"
"Huh?" Duckie looked up from the duck, startled. "Uh well... it's just... I was thinking, that's all?"
"And just what were you thinking so hard about?" Fakir asked a bit incredulously. Duckie's trains of thought in the past had proven to be quite... troubling to say the least.
"Just... that... does the duck have a name?" Duckie asked weakly, she knew the question was lame but she didn't feel quite up to explaining that she really didn't know why she had been staring at the duck all day.
"Well... we've just been calling her Duck." Fakir said just as lamely.
"That's not right, she should have a proper name!" Duckie insisted. Fakir looked tired and put his face in his hand. He couldn't tell her that she was the one who should have a proper name.
"I agree with Duckie," Charon stated quite happily, "The duck deserves a proper name. Duckie, since you're the one who found her you should be the one to do it."
"Huh? Me? Uh..." Duckie went back to staring at the duck, her meal completely forgotten. Fakir felt that this wasn't much of an improvement. "I'll have to think about it for a little while."
"You've plenty of time, you still have to take it easy for a couple days," Charon said helpfully, he winked slyly at Fakir and went back to eating his dinner. The rest of the meal continued far more normally, Charon and Duckie chatted happily about possible names for the duck and Fakir gave a couple options himself once in a while and happily let his two friends chatter while he remained silent the rest of the time.
Duckie sat on a short wall, her chin propped on her hands with her elbows propped on her knees, her whole figure slouched over and oozing of boredom as she watched Fakir diligently weeding the small herb garden behind the antiques shop. She sighed heavily to voice said frustration. "If you're that bored why don't you go find something else to do?" Fakir asked as he plucked another weed from the garden.
"There's nothing else to do. I don't see why you won't let me help you, I wasn't that bad at gardening last time." Fakir winced at her statement, the tomato plant was never going to fully recover from her clumsy attempts at weeding.
"No, find something else to do. Go help Charon or something."
"Charon's busy restoring antiques, the house is already all tidied up, the horse has been fed and watered and brushed down, and I've already read every book in the whole house five times over. There is absolutely nothing else to do than follow you around."
"You could always go to school and practice," Fakir suggested blandly.
"Practice...?" Duckie repeated blankly, staring at him as if he had spoken in a foreign language.
"Yes, practice. You should have recovered enough to be able to by now and you were already far enough behind at the end of the school year without being laid up for nearly two months. If I remember correctly you weren't allowed to learn pointe with the rest of the class, right?"
"Pointe?" Duckie's eyebrows scrunched up in concentration as she tried to dredge up what that word meant to her. Everything Fakir said rang of familiarity but she couldn't quite grasp it... "Oh, ballet! I had forgotten!" Duckie laughed a little too loudly.
Fakir rolled his eyes, "Only you would forget something like that, moron."
Duckie shot him a venomous glare, "I had a fever and got amnesia, it's not my fault if something like that slipped from my mind! But I remember it all now so it's okay." Duckie beamed happily at Fakir before jumping down from the short garden wall and dusted off her yellow shorts. "But you're right, I should practice. Do you think the practice room is open right now?"
"It's open every week day afternoon for the special and summer classes, mornings are for students who have no where else to practice. Though by now I think most of the classes are over so you might have a little time to yourself at the barre."
"Thanks, Fakir!" Duckie waved goodbye as she headed for the back door and up the stairs.
A quick search of the room later and Duckie found her practice leotard and ballet shoes, she quickly bundled them up and ran back outside, jogging all the way to Gold Crown Academy with fresh enthusiasm and a big grin spread across her face. The grin wasn't there anymore when she opened the door and found an older woman and five girls already practicing in the room. She quickly shut it before any of them could look in her direction and ran to hide in the locker room with a face red from embarrassment. "I bet Fakir lied about the times just so something like this would happen!" She fumed to herself after a short time of hiding in the corner. She quickly let the thought go and became bored again. "I wonder how long they'll take?" Deciding she could at least learn something by observing the special class she snuck up the balcony over looking the room and watched in rapture as the girls practiced advanced moves and took instruction from the teacher she recognized as Professor Goatherd.
Duckie sat entranced looking down on them as they practiced a choreographed danced together, the girl in the Prima Red leotard taking center stage. The small girl frowned, something seemed not quite right. Who was the girl in red? Duckie squinted harder as she peered down at the girl who had her red hair up in a tight pony tail as she danced with the other girls. The red head was familiar but Duckie seemed to last remember her in the same navy leotard as the other girls in the special class. Instead her mind brought up raven hair framing ruby eyes in an elegant face. Duckie couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of loneliness as well as familiarity with and fondness for the strange girl she was remembering in Prima Donna Red but for the life of her couldn't remember why. She was interrupted from trying to think about it further by the sounds of the special class being let out for the day. The four of the girls chatted happily together while the fifth, a blonde with her hair up in pigtails, was animatedly talking about something with the teacher. Deciding to put the memory aside for later study and to practice instead now that the room was free Duckie quickly and quietly tread down the stairs and back into the practice room.
Duckie was brooding all through dinner again, and it was driving Fakir nuts! Why couldn't the girl just be her usual, silly self and stop acting like she had just tainted Mytho's heart all over again? With a long suffering sigh he turned on the tap and began preparing to wash the dishes as Duckie cleared the dinner table. "You better get to bed early tonight, tomorrow we can go practice together before breakfast."
Duckie looked at Fakir in surprise but then her face melted into a small smile. "That would be great, Fakir. Though there's no need to scold me like that, I always wake up early."
Fakir smiled at her lifted spirits as he teased her, "Weren't you always forced to stay after and clean for being late?"
Duckie scowled at Fakir as she unceremoniously dumped the dirty dishes into the soapy water he had filled the sink with. "I'll have you know that I was hardly ever late, those were usually because of something that happened during class."
"Like that's any better," Fakir smirked. It was strange to watch a boy scrubbing away at dirty dishes to smirk, especially while wearing an apron. Duckie couldn't help but giggle at the sight. Then their conversation reminded her of the strange feeling of loneliness she had felt while watching the other girls practice.
"Say Fakir, something strange happened today." Fakir turned to look at her, standing sheepishly in the middle of the kitchen and looking forlornly at her feet. He waited for her to continue and she did, briefly detailing how she watched the special class, leaving out her almost interrupting them, and describing the face of the girl from her memories that brought up a confusion of feelings. Fakir had turned back to the dishes meanwhile, nodding as she talked and occasionally asking a question to show that he was listening.
"That sounds like Rue, she was the prima donna last year but left with her boyfriend, Mytho, on a scholarship. I think you two were just becoming friends when they left but we were just becoming friends ourselves so I'm not really sure." Duckie nodded along with what Fakir was saying, it all seemed to make sense.
"Okay then, my memory's still pretty fuzzy but I think I remember something like that. Thanks, Fakir, I feel a lot better now!" Fakir simply nodded and handed Duckie a towel.
"Good, because you need to start drying the dishes and put them away."
And so the few weeks before the first day of school passed swiftly and peacefully. Fakir and Duckie got up every morning to practice together, then spent the rest of the day doing chores around the house and generally enjoying what little vacation they had left. Duckie often went to the pond to visit the lone yellow duck with impossibly blue eyes that had grown fond of the humans who had rescued her. Fakir often accompanied the girl to the pond, paper and ink well in had to spend the after noon curled up under the nearby tree or out on the dock writing while Duckie happily dangled her bare feet in the cool water. But alas time stands still for no one and all too soon Fakir and Duckie were moving their things into their respective dorm rooms along with the rest of the school's on campus population the Saturday before classes started up again.
With squeals of delight Duckie greeted Pique and Lillie, whose memories of the previous year were strangely vague but who were just as happy to see Duckie again as she was to see them. With his usual smirk in place Fakir watched their loud and happy antics from across the square as an old acquaintance of his own came over for a greeting. "So, I see your plan worked."
"You already knew it did, Autor. I'm surprised you didn't come over and see for yourself as soon as I wrote to you about it." Fakir shot back a little snarkily.
"So how much does she remember?" Autor asked, not so subtly changing the subject..
"She doesn't remember anything about Drosselmeyer or his story, just like the rest of the town," Fakir sounded a little wistful as he replied.
"Isn't that a little strange considering what a big role she played?" Autor looked at Fakir incredulously.
"Not really," Fakir replied calmly, "Afterall, it was Princess Tutu who played a big role, and the little duck who played the biggest role of all. Duckie was just a girl who ran around and annoyed the heck out of everyone." Autor's face had gone from incredulous to outright flabbergasted, but he quickly recovered and smirked himself as he adjusted his glasses.
"I suppose you're right about that."
This is what happens when I don't have a clear ending in mind when I start writing. Oh, I always have a general idea or concept when I start but when I don't have a goal you guys get to read nearly nine pages of pointless rambling. You don't even get an interesting plot or moving story like last time, just this sad attempt at a slice of life story. Ah well, perhaps I'll revisit the concept at a later date to try and write it to my satisfaction, since this one is so disappointing. Maybe have Duckie actually remember that she and the little yellow Duck used to be the same person. And no, I didn't name the Duck. I just... I so wrote myself into a corner with that one. Feel free to name her whatever you want.