"What happened?"

Talking feels so strange, words oddly heavy in her mouth. It was the first time Duck had spoken in human words in so long. Her familiar slender frame trembles from the lingering warmth of changing, shaking the wisps of red hair hanging in her face.

"I- I don't know," Fakir stammers. "I don't know what's happening, Tutu. Duck. I don't know what I did or you did or the story did."

He grasps the girl's hands and helps her to her feet. Fortunately, he doesn't have to avert his eyes, the transformation somehow leaving Duck dressed in a simple white gown.

"Lo...no, Fakir," she gets out. "What do you think it was?"

"I really don't know," he says again. "I haven't been able to figure out anything."

"You didn't mean what you said, did you?" she pleads. "We can still go to the Prince's wedding, right?"

"The Pr- yes, we can still go to Mytho's wedding. Wait, no, no, we can't."

"Why not?!" Duck cries out even as Fakir walks on. She turns and beats feet to catch up to him. "Why not when that's the whole reason we came here?!"

"Because we aren't controlling our actions anymore, not completely."

"But what's left of the story now?" she presses.

Fakir slows and turns around. That's a very good question, actually. What is left of the story now? It's not Prinz und Rabe anymore, certainly not the way Drosselmeyer wrote it. But it's not really any other variation, either. It can't be, not if there's still a knight present in Lohengrin's role.

All of that grows fuzzier as he looks over Duck. It was so long ago since he saw Duck as a human. Having her here now breathed new life into every memory. He should have been kinder to her. He should have been more honest with her about everything. He should have spent more time with her when she was a human. He should have-

But now she's here. She's here and redheaded and blue-eyed and freckled and scrawny and everything else he missed so much about her.

Can he honestly deny her the one thing she wants right now? The very thought of hurting her in any way brings heartache, a hook pulling his insides.

His mind puts up some protest but her hopeful blue eyes quell the argument.

"All right," Fakir says, his mouth betraying his attempts to remain under control.

"Duck!"

"Oh Rue!"

Rue throws her arms around Duck, swaying them both in joy. They kept talking over each other, eager to make up for lost time spent in silence. The Princess leads Duck away, Rue insisting along the way that Duck's outfit for the wedding will have to be changed now and surely she has something that can fit her.

Mytho, however, has other plans, silently nodding to Fakir to follow him.

"I'm not sure what you did, Fakir," the Prince begins when they're alone in the throne room. He chuckles when his old friend scoffs and continues with, "Don't be like that. I'm not sure what you did but the proof is clear. The curse that Princess Tutu was under has been reversed."

"But I don't know what did it, either," Fakir protests.

Mytho holds his hand up. "Curses don't just undo themselves, Fakir. It takes sacrifice, a great giving of the self."

Fakir hangs his head, his heart sinking lower and lower the more Mytho heaped praise upon him. He protests again but the Prince quiets him once more.

"Do not let a past of wrongs invalidate the rights you commit now," Mytho tells him.

But while Fakir debated on whether he had done anything right or not, the weight of Mytho's hand forces him down to his knees. He barely feels the taps of the sword on his shoulders, half-dazed.

"Rise, Sir Fakir."