Disclaimer: I don't own Princess Tutu or its related characters. All is the property of Ito Ikuko, Sato Junnichi and the good people of Studio Gansis. I'm just borrowing them for some non-profit entertainment.
(A/N: Would you believe that its been so long that I actually thought I had completed this fiction? I apologize for the delay of this final chapter. I do not ask you to forgive me.)
Final Chapter:
Fakir found that he couldn't breath. He stood frozen behind Princess Tutu, shocked in to stupidity by his abject horror at what Mytho had just done. He couldn't have! He couldn't have really just slashed the pink princess' throat. It just couldn't be true, he had seen wrong. He must have seen wrong.
Princess Tutu stood in stunned silence. One elegant hand drifted upwards to daintily prod at her bare flesh just below her collar bone. It was little more than a cat-scratch.
"Why...?" Her question was cut off in a gasp when she realized what he'd done. "Hope!" she said, "You cut the shard of Hope in half!"
Fakir was suddenly sick with relief. She was alive, Princess Tutu was alive, Ahiru was alive! He let out the breath he'd been holding in before his mind processed her words. "Why'd you cut the shard?"
"Mytho...?" Rue ventured uncertainly, but she was cut off when the Raven King spoke.
"Fakir, if you would begin writing now, please."
The writer stood motionless for a moment or two longer before catching up to the situation and remembering his purpose in being there was. He gripped his ledger and quill, sat down in the grass, placed his pen to to page and began to write.
The Raven King gracefully knelt down before Princess Tutu and picked up the severed half of Hope.
"For the longest time..." He began, not speaking to anyone in particular. "... I didn't know how to help my son. I didn't know what to make of him. Rue and I had not been Ravens originally, for us it was a curse. But Hoff... Hoffnung was born a Raven; its what he has always been. For my son the curse is humanity." Mytho turned to face his afore mentioned son. The boy struggled all the more furiously against those that restrained him, but it did no good. "I cannot break the curse that is on you, Hoffnung, because you are not cursed." The white haired Raven explained.
"Then let me go!" The boy whined.
All the while Rue, Princess Tutu, and Autor looked on, transfixed by the scene that was playing out before them. A scene being dutifully narrated by Fakir.
"All those times you tried to steal my heart I never thought it was really you. I thought it was the Raven controlling you. But now I realize that you honestly do need my heart, just not all of my heart."
This last statement earned confused looks from all those gathered save Fakir. The author smiled cunningly at his page and dipped his pen in the inkwell before continuing...
Mytho held the severed half of Hope out to his still restrained son. "This is the only part of my heart that you need, Hoff-chan."
Understanding seemed to dawn on everyone at that point. Hope was a light that burned in the chest, it was the thing that kept a person going even when things seemed their worst. It was the feeling tat had saved everyone from the Raven before and it was the feeling that would now save the Raven from himself.
"Princess Tutu, if you would do the honors."
"Yes." She crossed the distance between herself and Hoffnung. Mytho handed her the heart fragment and she clutched in both hands, feeling its warmth and light. In all honestly, Princess Tutu wasn't sure what was going to happen at this point. When she was returning shards before it had always been to their original heart, to Mytho, to where they belonged. She had never intentionally placed a shard inside a person whom it did not belong in.
Tutu knelt before Hoffnung whom struggled even more furiously to escape, but the crow clad minions held him fast and he could neither flee nor fight.
"I give you your father's Hope." The pink princess said and pressed her hands flat to the Raven Prince's chest. The shard did not enter him willingly but after a prolonged pause and some silent praying, Princess Tutu felt the shard begin to sink into his flesh, passing through ribcage and lungs to bond with the heart.
Hoffnung groaned at the foreign heart's invasion of his own, his teeth set and bared in a silent snarl. And then, as suddenly as that, it was over. The minions that held him let go before vanishing in puffs of purple sparkles and the Raven Prince fell to the ground unconscious.
"Hoff-chan!" Rue rushed to her fallen son's side.
"He's fine." Mytho assured her. He then turned to Princess Tutu. "I'd like the rest of my heart back now, please."
"Of course." The five shards who sealed the Raven within Mytho gathered around Princess Tutu, combining into one and passing back into their host as they had in the previous story. Mytho reverted from Raven King back into the disheveled and tattered version of himself that had escaped from Hoffnung's lair. The pink princess then reached up to unclasp the Shard of Hope from her neck.
Vaguely she wondered if she would have trouble getting it off again or if the shard and her own feelings would cooperate this time. It seemed that they would because the clasp of the chain gave effortlessly at her touch. She held the pendant in her hand and stepped closer to Mytho.
"WAIT!"
Everyone paused and turned to face the one who had shouted. Fakir now stood, his pen and ledger on the ground beside his feet, the story paused before Tutu could return the final shard to Mytho.
"You can't return the last shard to Mytho." He said, eyes focused on Tutu.
"Why not?" The question was asked by the pink princess, but its sentiment was echoed by all those gathered.
"Because...because I..." Fakir clenched one of his hands in the other, his thumb running over the scar in his palm over and over again. "If you give Mytho his Shard of Hope back you'll turn back into a duck and... and I don't want that. I don't want to louse you a second time, Tutu... no, Ahiru! I don't want to louse you, Ahiru!"
Everyone stood in shocked silence at Fakir's confession. All eyes turned to the pink princess to hear her response to this statement which was all but a confession of love. Before Princess Tutu had the chance to respond, however, the silence was broken by Mytho's confused query.
"'Ahiru'?" He blinked, momentarily forgetting that his friend and former roommate had just asked him to give up his Hope. "As in our former school friend Ahiru? She's Princess Tutu? But I thought Princess Tutu was a duck?"
Once again, all eyes turned back to Princess Tutu. She had forgotten that while the Prince, not the King, had learned at the end of the tale that Princess Tutu had been a duck he had never learned that that same duck had also been his schoolmate Ahiru. She supposed it would be somewhat confusing for him to lear that she was duck, girl and ballerina superhero all rolled into one.
"I am a duck." The pink princess confessed. "Its your Shard of Hope that allows me to become Princess Tutu that also allows me to become just a normal girl and go to school with you and Rue and Fakir. I... I loved you to, Mytho, before I ever learned that you really were a Prince I loved you and I wanted to dance with you. That was my Hope and your heart shared allowed me to do that. A duck is what I am, but Ahiru is who I am."
"I... see..." The ivory haired King said slowly. "And do you still love me?"
"I... I'm not sure." The princess was honest. "I think I was really more in love with the idea of you rather than you yourself. You didn't have any of you heart back then and so didn't really have much of a personality to fall for. I think I liked the image of you that I had developed in my head and projected on to you as the 'real you'. I was in love with a fantasy."
Mytho nodded in understanding. "A thing need not be real for it to give a person Hope. Now, since you no longer care for me in that way, what is your Hope, Tutu no, Ahiru?"
"My new hope?" Her eyes sparkled with possibilities and she glanced around those gathered. At Rue whom knelt with her arms around her sleeping son. At Mytho who stood patiently awaiting an answer from her. At Autor whom had been watching silently unable to do anything to either help or hinder either side, he still stood watching. And finally she looked to Fakir, his eyes expectant, hopeful and longing. "I want to be able to stay a girl." She confessed. "I want to go to school with my friends, I want to live in the dorms, I... I liked being a girl. I know its not what I truly am, its not my true self. I was born a duck and I should be content to stay a duck but... but that's not what I really want. I want to be human."
"How strongly do you want that?" Mytho asked.
"Very strongly." Tutu admitted gripping the Shard of Hope more tightly. "But if I've learned nothing from the last story its that selfishness only breeds tragedy. I want to stay human, but I won't if its at the expense of another, especially not a friend. I'll return your Shard of Hope now."
"Ahiru! Wait!" Fakir shouted.
"Fakir," Tutu turned to glare at him, here eyes burning with passion and conviction. "If you truly love me you won't be selfish. You'll take up your pen and write a happy ending for this story and not an ending that makes just you happy at the expense of our friends."
Fakir didn't want to. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to be a selfish bastard and write a selfish ending for the story and make himself happy. But that wouldn't make Ahiru happy and if Ahiru weren't happy then he wouldn't be either. He sat down and began to write...
Princess Tutu extended her hands and the pendant clutched within them to Mytho. "I give you back your wings, the wing you need to return to yourself with."
The shard drifted back within Mytho and he shone with the splendor of a king undimmed by the twice breaking and reforming of his heart. His ripped and bloodied clothes melted away to be replaced by newer, finer garments of blue and gold and adorned with swan feathers along the collar and hem. He looked every bit as noble and regal as he did the day he and Rue had defeated the Raven.
And Princess Tutu... reverted back into a duck.
Fakir grit his teeth and paused in his writing. What was the point? What was the point of going through all this again if Ahiru still couldn't get her happy ending? What was the point of him having this power if he couldn't use it to give the person he cared about the one thing she wanted? What was the point if he couldn't get what he wanted? What a useless power the Power of Stories is. No wonder Drosslmeyer went insane and became obsessed with tragedy.
"Your forgetting something crucial, Fakir." Mytho said upon seeing his friend and former roommate's sullen face. "You're not the only one with the Author's Gift anymore. Terrible things can happen when an Author writes themselves into their stories, that's why you need someone else to write your happy ending for you."
"What?" The green haired writer looked up, perplexed.
Mytho merely raised his chin in the general direction of when Autor stood. He had been keeping out of the way through the whole scene with Hoffnung, hoping to go unnoticed or that the others would forget that he was there. He didn't want Rue to know that he was the one who caused this new story to happen and he feared retribution from both Fakir and Mytho. When the white haired King's gaze fell on him the poor musician all but fainted.
"M-me...?" He stuttered.
"You started all this." Mytho reminded him. "I think its only fitting that you finish it and give this story a happy ending for everyone. Fakir can't be expected to fix every run-away story by every fic writer with a puffed-up idea of their abilities."
Autor sputtered at that but he understood. He had begun this mess the moment he began playing with Writing to spite his immature and ill-gotten powers. He had lost control of the story because his purpose in beginning it was to have Rue fall in love with him. He had inserted himself as a character and thus forfeited the right to Write it. He had taken on the role of 'evil-lacky' just as Fakir had taken on the role of 'knight' in the previous story. But he had given up that roll and now it was time for him to make amends and finish what he had begun, giving up his possibility of a happy ending for the sake of everyone else's.
"I understand." He said. "Fakir, may I borrow your ledger for a moment?"
"Uh... yeah..." He agreed, unsure of what exactly was going on. Fakir passed his papers, quill and ink to Autor whom sat down on the grass next to his cousin. "What's going on, exactly?"
"You've earned your happy ending." Mytho assured him.
Fakir wasn't quite sure what they were going to do but he had already handed Autor his ledger and pen, there really wasn't much he could do. He stepped towards Mytho but paused to pick up the duck that was Ahiru instead. He hugged the little yellow bird gently but said nothing.
"And now," Mytho said, "I'm going to show you why my heart is so coveted by the Ravens. For you see, my heart is a heart that loves all and next to Hope, Love is among the most powerful forces in this world." He smiled warmly as Rue then turned back to Ahiru and Fakir. "Rue's love for me gave my heart the strength to fight the Raven's blood that had corrupted me. My love for Rue gave me the power to save her and together our love pierced the Raven's heart. My heart is a conduit for power. I can take the power of your love, Fakir, and use it to achieve an end. In short: my heart can grant wishes."
Silence followed this statement.
When no one else spoke, Mytho continued. "Ahiru is a bird, a duck who loves being human. And you, you love the human girl that Ahiru is."
"I love Ahiru." Fakir corrected. "Regardless of her form Ahiru is Ahiru and its Ahiru I love, not just the human body she had when I met her. But... but if would be nice if we were both the same species."
The white haired king nodded. Fakir's love was true and that made it powerful. Ahiru's love of a human life was strong. Between the two of them they have enough Love to grant their one wish. Mytho reached out a hand and placed his palm flat over Fakir's chest, over his heart. The writer temporarily turned character shifted the duck in his arms to give his former roommate better access for whatever it was he was going to do but he did not let her go. He held her in one arm almost possessively. Fakir was unsure what Mytho was going to do exactly, but whatever it was he didn't want to risk lousing her in a 'magical backlash' or something. He suddenly found that he didn't like being a character anymore. He had grown accustomed to knowing what was going to happen before it happened or deciding on what would happen before it happened. His time as an Author had spoiled him he decided.
Mytho stood silent with his hand over Fakir's heart, counting beats. Slowly, the thumping of his heart began to resemble the ticking of a clock. Mytho slowly let the power of his complete and whole heart flow into Fakir, not to much and not to quickly, he didn't want to overwhelm him. Just enough to fore-fill the wish in his heart. When Mytho was sure he had given enough power to fore-fill its purpose he lowered his arm and stepped back. He looked expectantly at Fakir, as if the dark haired Writer should know what to do next. All he did, however, was stare blankly back at his friend in disappointed confusion.
"I don't think it worked." He said.
Mytho huffed. "Honestly, Fakir, I can't do everything. You still have to meet me half way." When his friend still continued to stare blankly at him Mytho became frustrated and said, "Kiss you idiot, kiss. You should know the standard fairy tale answer to these things: True Love's Kiss. Now get on with it."
Ahiru and Fakir looked at each other uneasily. Then, deciding that neither of them had anything to louse and everything to gain, Fakir pressed his lips to the tip of Ahiru's orange duckbill. Somewhere off in the distance the deep nell of a bell was heard and the little yellow duck was swept up in a cloud of pink and gold sparkles. Fakir kept his grip on her firm even as her form began to shift within his grasp and when he opened his eyes it was no bird gazing back at him but a girl, Ahiru.
...
"So what happens now?"
They had all gathered back at the highest room of the town's clock tower. Mytho and Rue with a now conscious and disgruntled looking Hoffnung between them. For the first time the boy looked like just a normal broody goth teen and not the villainous Prince they had grown accustomed to. Ahiru was practically bubbling with cheer at the sight of the happy family. She stood next to Fakir whom still had his arm wrapped possessively around her waist. Almost as if her were afraid that if he let go she would turn back into a duck. And finally Autor stood off the the side, more on the outskirts of the group rather than an actual part of it.
"Now we go back into the story... again." Mytho answered. "And this time..." He fixed both Fakir and Autor each with personal glares. "... This time we stay there."
Both authors nodded their agreement. They would be just as content to let the stories stay as stories and the real world stay the real world as Mytho was. They said their heart felt good-byes, exchanging words of friendship, apologies and hugs before Mytho and Rue together with their misfit son climbed into an open carriage pulled by twin swans and returned to the story from wince they came.
And in that story they lived contentedly until the end of their days.
...
"It is VERY well written, Mr. Fakir." The teacher slid the manuscript contained within a manila folder across the desk to Fakir.
The dark haired Narrator swelled with pride. Hadn't it been just a few weeks ago that he was in this very same teacher's office being told that his other story wasn't good enough. He seemed to have come full-circle now and was better for it.
"But I'm afraid I can't give you credit for it." The teacher continued.
"What? Why not! You have no idea how hard I worked to write that!" Fakir's pride instantly deflated. It seemed just a few weeks ago he had been in this same teacher's office being told that his story wasn't good enough and now here in was again in his creative writing teacher's office being told that his story wasn't good enough. Full-circle, indeed. The universe hated him.
"Its a wonderful story, Mr. Fakir." The teacher explained. "But this was supposed to be your independent writing project. I cannot accept something that has been co-written. You and Mr. Autor of the music division did a wonderful job but I'm afraid I can only give you half credit."
Half-credit... fifty percent... fail.
...
THE END
(A/N: And with that its over. Finally. Over and done with. For real this time. -sigh- I feel as though a weight has been lifted up off my shoulders. )