Ahiru

"Fakir…" half-whispered the voice he had come to love beyond reason.

Fakir lifted his eyes to look at her and his breath caught in his chest. There she was, a little taller, fuller and enticingly rounder in parts, her flaming red hair flowing out in waves around her till her knees. Her sapphire eyes had a deep ocean blue in them now. Fakir didn't even realize he was staring. His old self would've kicked himself for staring at this idiot. But it had been more than ten years now and Fakir was beyond trying to fool himself about his feelings for her. But he didn't know how she felt about him. Yet.

"Fa-Fakir?" she called again as if re-assuring herself of his presence, in reality, he was the one who was supposed to do so.

Fakir stood transfixed. He had waited so long, so very, very long for this moment; imagining every possible way he'd encounter her, everything idea a little grander than the last. He hadn't expected her to appear so soon. It was almost as if she was waiting all this while for him too.

"A…Ahiru?"

His hated the way his voice trembled and cursed himself for not having the courage to go up and hold her in his arms, the way he had dreamt of all these years. He wanted nothing more than to hold her, inhale her comforting fragrance and look into those endless pools of blue.

"Ahiru and Fakir lovey-dovey, zura?!" piped a well-known voice suddenly, effectively bringing the two out of their reverie. Belatedly Fakir realized that Ahiru was standing right in front of him with only her hands crossed in front of her, completely unaware of the fact that she was stark naked. He blushed scarlet and took an about turn. Ahiru still seemed clueless about her state. It was as if living away from humanity for so long has literally stripped her of the norms of civilization.

"Idiot. You really are a duck, aren't you?" Fakir managed to blurt out, reddening to his tips.

"Huh?" she mused, she sounded hurt, and "Fakir?" she whispered softly, taking a step towards him, "am I really not a duck anymore?"

The vulnerability in her tone touched him, and he almost turned when Uzura suddenly screamed, beating her drum "Clothes, zura! Duck, zura!"

At that Ahiru's eyes widened in shock "Fakiiiiiiiiiiiir! Why didn't you tell me!" she squealed before jumping back into the water.

"Idiot."

Fakir watched Ahiru with amusement as she practically gobbled the eggs and bread he had served her. Although she did it with more restraint than before, she was still eating like she had never eaten before.

"Human food!" she said enthusiastically in between mouthfuls, "I never thought I would taste eggs again…ever!"

"Would Duck zura want some more eggs?" Uzura piped, poking her head through the kitchenette's service window.

"Yes please!"

"So...how exactly did...this happen?"

Ahiru asked, setting her glass of tea down and consciously picking at her makeshift attire made wrapping herself in Fakir's bedclothes.

"Erm..." Fakir started, still unused to her presence and deeply distracted by her state of undress.

"Fakir?" she asked again, cocking her head to the side, "Are you okay?"

The sound of Uzura's amused giggle brings him back to the present.

"What?! Oh, Yes!" he replies, snapping out of his thoughts and clearing his throat while blushing furiously.

When he looks at Ahiru's eyes to answer her question, he finds her blushing and looking away. Smiling fondly to himself, he clears his throat ones again, instigating her to look at him as he begins his story but consciously leaves out the reasons why he did what he did.

Honestly, Ahiru was the last person who needed to know how he was selfishly motivated to bring her back into existence. How it was because he couldn't think of a life without her and he hadn't thought about the possible consequences of his doing what he did. Not only would that show him to be weak but he was most afraid of losing Ahiru, he was worried about what she would think about him if she knew the truth.

"But won't this change everything? I mean..." She trailed off, unsure.

The same insecurity that haunted Fakir, now came back, gnawing at his heart, he turned away from her and towards the window, looking at the late afternoon sun and listening to Uzura's consistent humming over the clang of utensils.

What if Ahiru was right? What if it changed things, in a way that he was in no control of?

But, he thought again.

He was Drosselmeyer, after all.

When they are finally alone, Fakir turned to look at her only to find her already looking at him, the fading light outlines her form seated at the window, her eyes sparkling in the dim light and her hair a flaming red.

"Ahiru…" he whispers, drawing himself near her and gently touching her hair and then her even more gently, her face.

She watches him quietly, her eyes searching his face wildly, and a strange vulnerability in her features.

"I've meant to tell you for so long now…" he says, his voice breaking and tears prickling in his eyes, mirroring hers.

"Oh, Fakir…" she says softly, touching her forehead to his and closing her eyes. "I know, I know."

Fakir takes it as his cue, and inclines his face for his nose to touch hers, he hears Ahiru inhale sharply and slowly edges his lips towards her. They're so close, he can feel her nervous breath, and he only hopes he has the courage to go through with this.

He's a millimetre's breadth from finally kissing her when Uzura's extremely loud drum banging and sudden appearance outside their window, push them apart as if struck by lightning.

"Love-dovey, zura?" she giggles louder still.