Once upon a time, there was a girl who was in love with a prince. Despite her ardent love, she was a mere commoner unable to even meet him. "Oh," the girl cried, "if only the prince would love me, I would give anything!" The next day the prince proposed to her. Distraught, the girl found to gain his love, she had given away her own.

Thick fog choked the air, making it nigh impossible to see anything. Fakir squinted as he struggled to make his way through the mists and figure out where he was. The ground was hard, but not quite frozen, and had thick grass covering it. He assumed he was somewhere in the forest—or maybe the park. Finally, the haze started to thin, and after a few more moments of pushing through, he could make out the shape of a body of water. Not just a body of water, but the pond in the forest by his house. The pond where Ahiru used to live.

On the nearby shore stood a slight figure, the long, feather-like strands that stuck stubbornly up giving way the figure's identity.

"Ahiru!"

The figure was facing the water and didn't turn toward him at his call. With the faint clouds wafting gently over the water, she looked almost other worldly. Something in her posture seemed off, it was much too stiff compared to how she normally carried herself.

"Ahiru!" He called again as he rushed toward her.

Without turning towards him, she greeted him, "Fakir."

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" Fakir asked as he reached for her shoulder.

Suddenly, she turned her back to the water and faced him, a bright grin stretching her lips and returning her normally cheery countenance. "Of course, silly!" She grasped his outstretched hand between both of hers, caressing the scar on his hand with her thumbs. "I have you to protect me, right?"

"O-of course." He nodded, his cheeks deepening in color.

Her eyes were enchantingly clear and sparkled like polished blue topaz. He felt like he could drown in them. At the same time, it seemed like an eternity and somehow only mere seconds had passed when he noticed her face was getting closer. Was she leaning closer? 'No,' he realized, and briefly flicked his eyes down to her lips, 'I am.'

When his eyes met hers again, she looked hesitant—almost scared—but it quickly disappeared and was replaced with a soft smile. "Thank you." As quickly as the smile came it disappeared, and the black of her pupils began bleeding into her irises. His body froze and he could do nothing as he watched her fall backwards into the pond water and straight out of his grasp. In horror, he watched as the smoky water swallowed her, leaving no indication she had ever been there in the first place.


"AHIRU!" Fakir gasped as he sprang up from his pillows. Cold sweat drenched his body and the blankets tangled around his legs. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to calm his breathing and process his surroundings. He was on the couch in the living room, and not by the pond watching his closest friend drown. "Damn it," he cursed as he fell back onto couch. Dreams like this had been plaguing his sleep for roughly a month now—not long after he found Ahiru unconscious and half frozen.

He clenched his eyes shut and tried to will himself into a dreamless sleep. 'I need to find out what happened so I can keep her safe. I can't let her get hurt. Never again.'


Ahiru woke with a start, wide-eyed with dilated pupils. A silent scream ripped through her lips as she clawed wildly at the air in front of her, trying to catch a phantom that had already faded. Slowly, as her eyes came into focus and her surroundings started seeping into her senses, she calmed. Her arms fell to her sides, bouncing slightly from the impact on the mattress. She exhaled in relief and put a hand to her chest, hoping to quiet its rapid beating. In an attempt to reacclimate to the waking world, she looked around Fakir's room. His lamp, his desk piled with books, his dresser. In the corner was an untidy pile of her new clean clothes—she hadn't yet mastered the art of folding the laundry, though she was certainly working on it. She blinked a few times to adjust her vision.

Sunlight filtered into the room through Fakir's plain white curtains, indicating it was fairly early. She rubbed her eyes before turning and setting her feet on the hardwood floor. Salmon locks shone in the natural lighting, emphasizing every snarl, mat, and knot that was the product of her restless night. Warily, she stood and walked—albeit clumsily—to the dresser where a silver platter held a couple brushes and combs. Groggily, Ahiru studied her choices, not yet conscious enough to figure out which one she needed. After a few moments of debate, her thin fingers curled around one before she padded back to the bed.

It was force of habit that her fingers could move so quickly and with little stumbling as she gently brushed out the tangles in her wavy strands. Once she finished, instead of continuing on to braiding her hair, she instead stared at the brush in her hand. It was made of silver and had intricate designs of flourishes wrapping around the handle. On the back was a gorgeous heart motif. Ahiru smiled fondly as she traced over the slight ridges of the heart design. The set had been her Christmas present from Charon. The grin on his face when she opened it still made her heart feel full. He insisted it was important she some more feminine touches for herself, to serve as a "refuge" from living with two men. She loved it. She never owned something so pretty before.

Just over a month had passed since Charon had made the decision that Ahiru would become a permanent resident of his house, and the time had gone by fast. Between Charon turning the extra room into Ahiru's bedroom, and Ahiru learning how to perform her new chores—with varying degrees of success—it felt like she became human again just last week.

Christmas had been lovely, as were the days leading up to it. Fakir had taken her to the Weihnachtsmärkt in the town center. It had been astounding. Wooden stalls selling all sorts of things—from food and candies to cookware and handcrafted toys, all decorated in colorful strings of light. A beautiful carousel with gorgeous wooden horse mounts was the center of it all, playing jaunty instrumentals as it slowly rotated. Fakir bought them some mulled hot cider, which was a wonderfully warm drink with a delicious mix of spices Ahiru hadn't had before, to sip on while browsing. At a bakery stall, Fakir pointed out Charon's favorite baumkuchen, so Ahiru took note of the proprietor and later returned to their store to buy one for his present.

On Christmas Eve, Charon and Fakir came home with a large tree, which, to Ahiru's delight, they decorated with candles, tinsel, and sweets—the sweets of course, were devoured by Ahiru when they took the tree down on Epiphany. She had been mystified by the beauty of the tree, and had convinced Fakir to let her sleep on the couch that night so she could stare at it until she fell asleep.

On Christmas morning she impatiently waited for the other two to wake up. Sure, getting gifts was fun, but she couldn't wait until they opened what she had given them. Charon had been thrilled with his cake, and Fakir seemed genuinely grateful for the glass ink pen she got him. She hoped it would encourage him to start writing more. Despite her insistence that neither of them should get her anything, as they were doing too much already, they, of course, did anyway. Charon had gotten her her brush set, which she adored, and Fakir had given her a gorgeous glass ornament. It was two little yellow ducks with a pretty crystal hanging from it. When it caught the sun light, a scattered rainbow would spray across the floor. Currently, it sat on his dresser, but she couldn't wait to hang it in the window once she got her own room, which was supposed to be tonight.

She set the brush aside with a smile and set about braiding her hair. After she finished, she put the brush back in its place and dressed for the day. She liked to start on her chores earlier in the morning.

"Ah! Ahiru, you're up early," Charon greeted when she entered the kitchen. "Your room is almost finished. I just need to add one more touch, so don't go in there until tonight." His eyes danced in excitement.

Ahiru smiled back at him. "You really don't need to go through all of this trouble. I would be happy with just a bed. Isn't this taking away from your work at the smithy?"

Charon shook his head as he turned back to the food he was making. "I'm more than happy to. And I've only worked on it in spare time." He paused for a second before adding, "If you're uncomfortable with it being for you, then consider part of it for Fakir."

The girl blinked, staring at the older man's back in confusion. "…Fakir?"

"With you around, Fakir seems happier. Part of the reason I want to have you stay is for him."

The corners of Ahiru's mouth turned upwards. "Alright. For him." A moment passed as she played with the hem of her shirt. "Would you mind if I went out later today?"

"Not at all! What did you have planned?"

Blood flooded in her cheeks, her fingers moving more rapidly along the end of her shirt. Already Charon had done so much for her, and yet here she was asking for something that cost money. "Well, I er… No problem if you don't… I… That is—birdseed!"

A voluminous chuckle rumbled in Charon's throat at the girl's antics. "Birdseed is hardly an expense. No need to be so flustered about it."

The duck's cheeks darkened as she turned her attention towards the floor. "I should… I'll start the laundry." She paused at the door jamb, glancing over her shoulder. "Thanks, Charon."

"No problem, kiddo."

Within the second day Ahiru was granted residence in Charon's house, the girl insisted that she did the laundry and the cleaning. Charon seemed reluctant to have her do so much, but relented upon seeing Ahiru's resolve was steeled. Since then she made rounds every morning to collect the laundry and washed it before breakfast, hanging it in the backroom to dry. She maintained that this way they had all day to dry out, giving her more time to clean the house—and if she did it every day, it took up less of the limited space inside.

A soft smile curled the ends of her lips upwards as Ahiru grabbed the dark brown wicker basket she used to gather the dirty articles. It was nice to feel wanted, something Ahiru wasn't all too familiar with. The feeling alone was enough to make the work seem enjoyable. With a slight spring to her step, Ahiru made her rounds before heading to the backroom they kept the laundry in.

"Time to get this finished!" Ahiru nodded in determination as she rolled her sleeves up higher and grabbed the first article of clothing.

"You disgust me, Ahiru."

With a sharp gasp, the shirt in her hands fell into the tub of water, her eyes wide. She knew the words were from her nightmare the previous night, but they echoed so resolutely in Fakir's voice.

"You're a duck, not a human. Stop pretending."

"But I—I…"

"Ahiru?"

Ahiru jumped in surprise, flailing wildly when she lost her balance. Before she hit the ground two arms steadied her. "Fakir?"

He shook his head, "I should have known doing the laundry would be hazardous to your health—Or perhaps you're the hazard."

"Hmph! You could just say 'gee, thanks for doing the laundry, Ahiru!' jerk." She stuck her tongue out at him before going back to concentrating on the shirt that was now waterlogged.

A grin stretched across his face before he began, "I figured you'd be back here. Charon's done with breakfast."

She frowned as she swiftly rubbed the shirt against the board. "I haven't finished the laundry yet." Once satisfied with her job she rinsed the cloth and wrung it out.

Fakir took the shirt from her before she could get up and hung it up for her. "I figured you'd say that." He paused. "There's something else I wanted to talk about."

"Oh?" She looked away from the pants she was washing and up at him.

"I talked to the administrator at Goldkrone Academy. You can start taking ballet again—next week."

Ahiru's eyes lit up as she dropped what she was doing leapt up at him. "Oh! Thank you Fakir! Thank you, thank you!"

Fakir's cheeks flushed bright red, but he eventually returned the hug—only to have Ahiru rip herself from his arms and dance around the area. He couldn't help but laugh at the spectacle she made of herself.

"I'll get to see Lilie and Pique and—well, I suppose that Mr. Cat won't be there anymore," Fakir confirmed this with a slight nod, "But I get to see all of my friends again! I can't wait!"

The writer laughed, satisfied with her reaction to the news and bent down to pick up the pants she was washing. "Charon is waiting for us, you know. I'll help you finish the laundry."

With a wide grin Ahiru accepted his help and knelt back down to hurry through the laundry.


Ahiru pulled her hair back tightly in a bun before covering it with a scarf. A spark shone in her eye as she squeezed the large sponge in her hands before bending over and breathing in deeply. As soon as she exhaled she launched herself forward, running in a crouch with the sponge pressed against the smooth, hardwood flood. Naturally, it was only a matter of time before the girl ran into something—rather, someone.

"Perhaps you should look where you're going, idiot."

"Hey! You weren't there when I started!" Ahiru objected as she struggled to get back on her feet.

Fakir sighed and gently pulled her up. "I'm supposed to help Charon today at the smithy… he said you were planning on going out today. Is that right?"

Ahiru nodded, "Yeah, after I finish washing the floors and dusting."

"Can that wait until after? If we leave now we should be able to get back with enough time for me to go."

Ahiru frowned. "I don't need you to escort me to town. I'm perfectly capable of going on my own. I did fine on my own before."

Fakir groaned, "Don't be so difficult, you're my responsibility now and—"

"I'm sixteen, Fakir! I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself—and Charon already gave me money so you can't use that excuse." She pulled the crumpled bills out of her pocket for effect.

"Are you sure you'll be fine?" He sighed. "A lot has changed in the past two years—and after your particularly vivid display of grace a few moments ago—"

"Fakir!" Ahiru groaned in exasperation as she started pushing him towards the door. "I can take care of myself! Now go!"

He finally gave in and turned around. "Alright, but if you get lost, don't come crying to me."

The duck snorted and slammed the door on his back. "Hmph! That'll teach him!" she said with a nod before turning around. "Well… back to work I suppose. Got to make the floor sparkle!" She giggled and picked back up the sponge.


Washing the floors went fairly quickly—now that all mobile objects were removed from the household. After thoroughly mopping the floor she went about dusting the furniture—her feet firmly placed on two rags. Once she was satisfied that everything was well dusted she quickly polished the wood furniture.

"Perfect!" Ahiru grinned widely and stepped off of the rags. "Now…" she murmured softly to herself as she picked up the rags and discarded them in the brown wicker basket then headed towards the door to gather her coat and winter accessories.

After shrugging on her coat, she carelessly spun her yellow scarf around her neck and pulled on her hat, mindful of her cowlick. She put on her mittens and gave herself a once over in the mirror by the door before nodding in satisfaction. "Alright, bird seed time!"

It was a nice winter day out, the sky was a perfect azure with only a few fluffy clouds dotting it, and the snow had been carefully cleared from the cobblestone streets. The snow sparkled in the sunlight, making it almost painful to look at. Children crunched around in the snow, making snowmen and having snowball fights while adults watched on in amusement. Ahiru smiled as her eyes followed a young boy help a younger girl build a snow fort.

'Everyone is so happy!' Ahiru mused, 'It's like the story never even happened.'

It wasn't long before Ahiru found her way back to the small shop she normally purchased her bird seed from; the small store hadn't changed at all—other than the wall-climbing ivy had grown and was now covering part of the roof as well. The dark green leaves had maintained a natural color, despite the cold, and many of the leaves had a light dusting of snow. Her eyes filled with wonder as she opened the door and stepped inside, a small bell ringing as the door eased shut.

"Can I help you, Miss?" a small old man asked from behind the counter.

Ahiru beamed at him, recognizing him instantly as the owner. He, like his shop, hadn't changed much either—save for his ever-thinning hair. "I'm here to purchase some bird seed, sir."

The man's dull eyes lit up as he straightened his back the slightest bit. "What size would you like, Miss?"

"Large, if you don't mind," she paused before adding, "I'll get it, sir, you can stay there."

He laughed and fiddled with his wooden cane. "You know how to treat an elderly man, that's for sure."

After a few minutes of trying to heave the bag over her shoulder, Ahiru finally got it to the counter. "Is this enough?" she asked while handing him the crumpled currency from her pocket.

"To the dot." He grinned and accepted the money, then handed her the receipt. "Thank you for your business."

"I couldn't imagine buying bird seed anywhere else. Have a nice day!" Ahiru once again took to half carrying, half dragging the large bag out of the small store.

"You, too, Miss." He seemed slightly confused by her declaration of loyalty when he had never seen her before, but he chocked it up to an increasingly bad memory. In any case, he was thankful.

Ahiru exhaled heavily as she continued pulling the bag through town. It was as heavy as she remembered it being, and she received as many bewildered stares as she had before, too. At least if she kept to icier areas, it helped her slide the bag along easier.

"Aw, how adorable! Won't she look cute in this?" a familiar, shrill voice rang out through the air.

A slightly raspy voice answered her, "Yeah! He'll ask her out for sure if she wears this!" Ahiru couldn't help but look over in curiosity, her cornflower blue eyes scanning over the square she was in.

Across the way, in front of a dress shop, were two girls dressed in the winter Goldkrone Academy uniform. The taller of the two, of whom the raspier voice belonged to, was a tan, slim girl with shoulder-length magenta hair tucked into a fluffy mint-colored hat. A few loose strands of hair peeked out of the hat and framed the left side of her face. Her features were sharp and angular, complementing the tailored lavender peacoat she wore. The shorter of the two was a pale girl with a small frame and wavy blonde hair tied up with two pink ribbons. She had matching pink earmuffs and a pink coat. Ahiru recognized them instantly: Pique and Lilie. Other than Lilie's new-found curves and Pique's growth spurt, they were just as Ahiru remembered them.

The corners of her mouth curled upwards slightly as she raised one of her hands in greeting as she started to shout, "Pique! Lil—"

"—lie!" A figure flashed past her, finishing her sentence for her, "Hey!"

The two females by the store turned around. "There she is! As late as always, how cute!"

A girl who looked to be about Ahiru's age approached the others, a sheepish expression on her face as she tugged on the ends of her knit dreamsicle-colored hat. She had cerulean hair cropped in a neat pixie cut and pale skin dotted with honey colored freckles. "Eh heh. Sorry, guys."

"Detained after class again, Lory?" Pique asked with a knowing grin.

"Naturally!" Lilie fawned as she wrapped the girl in a tight hug. "Our little Lory couldn't dance right to save her life! Aw, how cute!"

Ahiru watched in melancholy, a sense of déjà vu falling over her as she watched the blue-headed girl flail her arms in desperation for oxygen. Of course she had been replaced, to Pique and Lilie she had never even existed. What right did Ahiru have to intrude on their happiness? She swallowed, trying to push the lump in her throat down as she held back tears of dejection, and once again gripped the heavy bag of seed in her hands.

'They look so cheerful,' Ahiru mused, 'They're genuinely happy. And I… I couldn't. Even if they did take me back as their friend… they have Lory and… If they get attached to me again, only to have me die in a year—I'm being selfish. I can't just come and leave again, it's bad enough I'm doing it to Fakir.' She sighed, 'I have to stay away from them, for their sakes.'

"Ahiru?" a deep voice shook Ahiru from her thoughts, making her jump in surprise.

"Eh! W-What?!" she whirled around, bumping right into someone's chest, the impact throwing her off balance and to the ground. "Oh!"

The male offered his gloved hand to her and helped pull her back up. "Careful. Do you need some help?"

Ahiru blinked in surprise as she steadied herself. "I suppose I… do—sorta… need help. Oh, Autor!"

Autor was wearing a gray double-breasted wool coat with a white scarf, and looked every bit like he just wanted to get out of the cold. He nodded in greeting. "I thought it was you."

"Ah ha ha, sorry for running into you! I was distracted, so it really surprised me when you said my name, and I didn't realize how close you were to me, so, uh…"

"It's fine," he dismissed her. He bent over to pick up the bag, grunting in surprise when he tried to lift it. "This is… surprisingly heavy.

"Ahh, don't hurt yourself! It's fine if you can't lift it, you don't have to help me."

"No," Autor insisted, "it's fine. I was just surprised, that's all. I can lift it." He held back a groan as he hefted the bag over his shoulder. "See? It's fine."

"Are you sure?" Concern was written clearly on Ahiru's face.

Autor nodded, "Yes, it's fine. Now, which way are we going?"

Pointing in the direction she was headed, Ahiru fell into step alongside Autor. "Ah, thank you for helping."

"You're welcome." There was a moment of silence before he asked, "So, how do you know Fakir?"

"Huh?" Ahiru looked up at Autor quizzically. "Fakir?" She looked back down at the snow thoughtfully. It would've been so much easier if he remembered her. She couldn't tell the truth, and even if she did, he wouldn't believe her. And it wasn't like she could just say they used to go to school together—Autor would want to know why he didn't remember her. "We're old friends."

"How'd you meet?"

Ahiru frowned. She wasn't used to Autor being so interested in others' lives. "Uhm… through another friend I guess." That was sorta true. "He was a huge jerk at first—he still can be a huge jerk, actually—"

Autor chuckled. "Yeah, jerk sounds right."

Ahiru puckered her lips in annoyance. Fakir was a jerk sometimes, but only she was allowed to say that. Before she could object, Autor asked her another question.

"Do you go to Goldkrone Academy?"

"What?"

He gestured with his head in the direction they were going. "This is the way to the student dorms, isn't it?"

"Oh! Uhm, yeah, I mean. It is the way to the dorms, but, I don't live in the dorms… or go to the academy."

"You don't look like you're old enough to be a graduate."

Ahiru shook her head, "I'm not. I just… had to give that part of my life up."

Autor gave her a pensive look, but he didn't press the subject further. "So, you live… where?"

"Er… at Fakir's house," she offered. Her cheeks turned a brilliant red when she realized how scandalous the arrangement sounded. "I-er… I didn't have anywhere else to go so… Charon offered me a room…" her voice faded off in embarrassment as she looked down at her feet and took to counting every crack she stepped over as they walked.

Autor arched an eyebrow at this. "I… see." He paused to adjust the bag on his shoulder.

"Are you sure you're okay? It's not too heavy, is it?"

Autor shook his head. "No, it's not. Really. You can stop asking."

Ahiru eyed him for a moment before accepting his answer. She was thankful for his help. It would have taken her quite some time to do it on her own.

"Are you feeling better, by the way?"

Ahiru stared at him with wide eyes until she registered what he meant. Last time he remembered seeing her was collapsed on the library floor. "Oh! Yes, yes." She waved his inquiry off with a hand. "I'm feeling much better now!" She jogged a few steps in time with his to prove her point. "See?"

"I'm glad."

A moment of silence passed, making Ahiru uncomfortable. Normally Autor had no issues holding a conversation—especially one-sided conversations where he talked about himself and his passions. Why was he so quiet?

"You don't go to school, so what do you do for a living?"

Ahiru almost let out a startled quack but was able to force it down. "Hm?" The question itself was genuinely surprising, no one had ever asked her such a question. Ahiru mused, "I'm… sort of a live-in maid, I guess… Well, I only do laundry and clean the living room and hallway but, uh… yeah." She quickly changed the subject. "How about you? You play piano, right?"

To this, Autor looked down at her. "Yes, actually. During the day I work in the library, but in the evening I play piano at a restaurant."

The girl grinned up at him, her previous discomfort leaving her. "That sounds so fun! I wish I could play piano well… or do anything well, for that matter… Don't you just love the sound of music?"

The librarian looked at her oddly before turning his attention back to the sidewalk. "I believe we're here."

"Oh! Thank you for your help, Autor. It would've taken me forever to—"

"Ahiru?" Fakir's voice cut her off as the he appeared from inside the house. "What took you—Autor." His voice filled with surprise when he said the other male's name.

Autor inclined his head ever so slightly before gesturing towards the bag on his shoulder, "I was merely offering my assistance. I'm surprised you sent her on such a bodily errand, Fakir."

Fakir frowned and glared stonily at him. "Thank you for helping her. I'll take it from here."

Autor shrugged his empty shoulder and slid the bag down from his other one. He attempted to hide a grunt at the strain, but Fakir caught it. "You're welcome," he dismissed. He shoved the bag toward Fakir and gave him a curt nod. "Good day." He turned to Ahiru and gave her a small smile. "It was nice seeing you."

"Yeah," Ahiru responded distractedly. Had he smiled at her? That was strange.

After Autor disappeared around the corner, Fakir began lecturing her. "Ahiru! I told you not to overdo it! You should have gone with me earlier if you were going to have so much trouble!"

Dragging her attention away from Autor's path of retreat, she regarded him moodily. "I didn't think it would be as heavy as it was before!"

"Don't be so stubborn, idiot! I just—ugh, whatever." He turned away from her, the bag of birdseed resting on his shoulder. "Charon's already made dinner."

She followed him into the house, closing the door behind them. "Ah, am I late? Sorry."

He gestured towards the kitchen. "Go ahead, I'm going to put this in your room."

Ahiru shot a glance back at him as he trudged up the stairs before entering the kitchen.

"Ah, there you are!" Charon greeted her. He had already set the table and put out dinner.

"It smells so good!" Ahiru leaned on a wooden chair to get a better look. "What is it?"

"Schnitzel and potato salad. Nothing too special."

Ahiru shook her head, "No, it looks so good! Everything you make is so delicious! I wish I could cook like that!"

Charon chuckled. "Well, maybe I'll teach you."

"Really?!" The excitement bubbled in her stomach. She wasn't exactly known for being skillful in the kitchen, and the prospect of improving was delightful to her.

"Be careful, Charon, she might burn the house down if you let her use the stove."

Scowling, Ahiru spun around to face him. "Will not!"

"Sure." Fakir teased.

Ahiru narrowed her eyes at him before turning back towards the table. "Don't listen to him, Charon."

"Alright, alright, that's enough." He pulled out his chair and sat down. "The sooner we finish the dinner, the sooner we can move on to the main event." Following suit, the other two sat down as well.

"The main event?" Ahiru asked, lifting her plate when Charon held out a slice of schnitzel."

"Have you already forgotten?" Charon's eyes were twinkling with excitement.

"Don't mind her, Charon, her brain can't hold too much information at once."

Ahiru stuck her tongue out at him. "You're so mean!" This only seemed to amuse him more, earning her a muffled laugh. "Jerk," she mumbled and glared at her plate.

"That's enough, Fakir," Charon admonished. He turned to Ahiru. "He's just trying to rile you up, Ahiru. He thinks it's cute."

Fakir flushed. "Charon! That's not—" Charon raised a teasing eyebrow at him, causing him to focus back on his plate.

Ahiru giggled snidely. "Serves you right." Fakir could at least take solace in the fact she didn't catch on to the meaning of what Charon had said.

Charon turned his attention back to Ahiru. "Anyway. After dinner is the grand revealing of your new room!"

"Oh! Yes!" Ahiru nodded enthusiastically. It actually had slipped her mind. Between Fakir's announcement that morning, her trip to buy birdseed, seeing Pique and Lilie, and then literally running into Autor… she had completely forgotten today was a special day. "I can't wait to see it! You've been putting so much work into it!"

"I hope you like it." Charon took a liberal bite of his meat.

"I know I will!" Ahiru enthused and finished off her potato salad.

The rest of their meal was sparked with anticipation. Charon finished first and had busied himself washing his dished while he waited for the other two. The moment Ahiru put down her knife and fork, Charon spun around.

"Are you done?"

Ahiru smiled, his excitement was palpable and made her feel like she was truly part of the family. She was pretty excited herself, she had to admit. "Yeah!"

"This way, then." Charon helped her up from her chair and led her towards the stairs, Fakir following behind. "Watch your step."

Once they stood in front of the door of her new bedroom, Charon turned towards her. "Okay. Close your eyes."

Ahiru did as she was told and breathed softly. A metallic click sounded and a slight wave of air blew past the girl, rustling her bangs. Charon's rough hands carefully pushed her forward before he stopped her. "Okay, open them." She could almost feel his excitement seeping from him.

Soft blue eyes fluttered open; the sight they beheld causing her to gasp. "Oh! Charon… it's…" Tears welled in her eyes as she took in her surroundings.

The room was decorated with soft shades of blue and yellow. From the right wall, a bed jutted out into the middle of the room with a dark cherry wooden bedframe. It was a four-poster bed with a lovely headboard. A beautiful design of roses and stylized flourishes had been burned into the headboard, and the finials of each post were matching hand carved roses. A yellow comforter with white lace and blue bows adorned it. Next to it was a glass-top nightstand made with twisted black metal—undoubtedly fashioned in Charon's smithy.

A short, fat dresser sat against the wall near the door. It was a matching deep cherry wood, with a similar rose motif burnt into it. The platter with her brush set was already atop it. Next to it was a tall wardrobe made in the same fashion.

On the far wall was a wide window with a cushioned window seat. A baby blue waterfall swag valance ran across the top of the window, and long, billowy curtains had been pulled back from the middle. The glass ornament Fakir had given her hung delicately under the middle arc of the valance. Beneath the window was her large bag of birdseed.

"…Beautiful!" her eyes were wide and glassy when she turned to Charon and wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you so much! I love it! You really shouldn't have gone through all the trouble!"

"Nonsense, Ahiru. You live here now." He scratched the back of his head slightly, "Granted, I'm not familiar with feminine touches, so I hope I didn't make it too… masculine. I got some help from a nice lady when picking out the bed dressings and curtains."

Ahiru beamed up at him, "It's perfect! I could never in a million years even be able to pay you back for all your kindness."

"Just be happy. That's more than enough."

Ahiru blinked, flabbergasted, before she blanched entirely. 'Be happy… They're… he's expecting me to live here for a while… This isn't fair to them, they went through all this trouble and I'm going to disappear in a year.' She shook her head and forced herself to smile again before Charon could notice. 'No, he wants me to be happy, and I will!' She stepped away to twirl in the center of the room. "This is way better than the room I had at the Academy! Thank you so much!"

Charon grinned widely, clearly please Ahiru liked her room. "You're more than welcome. I'm happy you like it."

Ahiru nodded eagerly. "I really do! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Your clothes have already been moved to the dresser and wardrobe, so you don't have to worry about that. Oh!" He paused and walked over to the wardrobe. "I put in some hooks to hang any jewelry you might acquire." He showed her the hooks inside the doors. "And I put a hidden drawer in here for anything you might want to hide away." He pointed out the drawer tucked away in the back along the top of the wardrobe.

"Oh wow," Ahiru's eyes were wide with wonder as she fingered the concealed drawer face, "that's so neat."

He laughed when she pulled him into another tight hug. "It's no big deal."

She shook her head when she released him. "No, it is! Everything is so pretty, and you put so much thought into it. Thank you!"

"Fakir helped with a lot of it, too, you know." Charon slightly jerked his head toward the other man.

Fakir was leaning against the door jamb, a half smile on his lips. He was pleased Ahiru was so happy with her new dwellings.

"Thank you, Fakir." Ahiru skipped over to him and grasped his hands, pulling him to the center of the room. "I love it!"

Charon gave a slight cough. "Well, I'll leave you to get more comfortable. Oughtta finish cleaning up dinner, anyway."

Ahiru looked up at Charon. "Are you sure you don't need any help?"

The blacksmith waved her off as he walked out of the room, calling behind him, "Enjoy your gift. I've been washing dishes for nearly fifty years now; I think I'll make do."

She looked back at Fakir, a sincere grin curling her lips softly. "I really do appreciate everything." She pulled him into a hug.

Fakir stiffened briefly, but quickly melted into her grasp. "I'm glad," he whispered into her hair.

She pulled away first and bounced over to her window seat. Leaning over, she looked out at the snowy town. "This is a pretty nice view!"

Fakir rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to do or say. "I guess I'll, uh… I'll leave you to get acclimated."

"Wait! Don't you, uhm…" Ahiru panicked as she tried to think of a reason for him to stay. She just got her new room, she didn't want to enjoy it by herself. "… want to give me a tour?" Her cheeks colored at how unsure she sounded.

"You're looking at it." Fakir gestured at the room. "Charon already showed you the smaller things. I don't think even a moron like you could get lost in here."

Ahiru frowned and turned back to the window, her eyebrows pressing together as she tried to bite back the feelings of rejection. Her embarrassment had increased with every word, and she couldn't help but feel disappointed. She really wanted to spend time with him—her best friend.

Sensing he might have taken his teasing a little too far he began, "I could… hang out, though." He shrugged with a forced apathy.

She kept her back turned to him, trying to hide her smile, and crossed her arms. "If you're sure you don't have more important things to do than waste your time with me."

The writer rolled his eyes. "Stop being difficult, moron."

Salmon locks fell over her shoulder as she looked back at him, her lips puckered slightly in mock hurt. "You're cruel."

It felt as though the wind was knocked out of him as he regarded Ahiru; the expression on her face could be described as nothing short of sultry. "U-uhm, well… what do you… want to—What do you want to talk about?"

She flashed him a toothy grin before turning around and tucking her legs under her on the window seat. "I honestly haven't thought that far ahead… Eh heh, but I figured that you'd have something to talk about—it's not the first time I've been wrong, right? Oh! But maybe you do have something to talk about, I guess I never really gave you a chance to talk and… I'm… shutting up now…"

Fakir shook his head while he saw down on her bed, mindful of the embellishments. "Actually, I did want to talk to you about going to Goldkrone Academy." He leaned back and pulled his right leg in front of him. "I haven't picked up the paperwork yet, but we can do that tomorrow. Also, they expect you to take up—" he cut off when he caught her expression. "Ahiru?"

Ahiru clenched her fists in her laps, her mood suddenly becoming somber as her bangs fell in front of her eyes. "Fakir?" she paused to gather her thoughts. "I…I've been thinking and… and I don't…. I don't want to go back to Goldkrone Academy."

Time seemed to stand still as neither of them moved. Forest green eyes trained on her face for what felt like an eternity before Fakir was able to form words. "I'm sorry?"

"I don't want to go back to school…?" Her voice faded off pathetically.

"W-what? You… don't want to go back to school?"

The feather-like strands that stuck stubbornly up bobbed back and forth as she shook her head. "I just… I don't want to go back. I don't see a point."

Fakir gaped at her incredulously, "Ahiru, you love ballet—it's practically your life. And now that you can perform again… You. Don't. Want. To? You don't see a point?"

She avoided his gaze. "I just… I dunnu, I'm not that good at it anyway, right? I'm just not—" she tried to hide her cringe, "—interested anymore." She hated lying to him. She hated that recently she's lied about so much to him. She just couldn't bring herself to tell him the truth. To tell him she was already on borrowed time and couldn't bare to hurt more people than she already was.

Ahiru could feel his gaze penetrating her, it felt as if his eyes were burning into her soul and reading her every secret. Moments passed before he spoke again. "You expect me to believe that nothing is wrong when you're refusing to study ballet? Just this morning you were dancing around in glee."

She had to steel her nerves or he would never believe her… though she wasn't sure it would really help. "So? I had a lot of time to think about it since you first brought it up. I've made my mind up." She prayed he would let it go.

No such luck.

His eyebrows knit together as he gawked at her. "What about your little friends? The blonde one and the purple-haired one."

"What about them?!" Ahiru demanded, hurt that he had brought up the very reason she decided not to go back—like rubbing salt in a fresh wound. "It's not like they remember me, right? I'm not letting anyone down with this decision."

"Oh sure, no one but yourself!"

She glared at him then looked away; the more she looked at him, the harder it became to hold back her tears.

He stood abruptly, pulling the comforter half off her bed. "Why not? Why don't you want to go back?!"

His demands were met with silence and eye avoidance.

"Damn it, Ahiru! How am I supposed to help you when you refuse to tell me what's wrong?!" When she continued to evade his gaze, he grunted furiously before turning on his heel and stomping out of the room.

When the door slammed shut behind him, she allowed herself to look up. Once her watery eyes found disheveled bed dress, hot, bitter tears fell over her cheeks, her barriers stripped bare of their defense.

"You disgust me, Ahiru."

Echoes of her nightmares swam accusingly in her head, screaming she was ruining everything. Reminding her she was the one in the wrong.

What had Charon asked of her? To be happy? And how wonderfully she was doing at that.


Drosselmeyer leaned back in his chair, his eyes lighting up in satisfaction. Before him spun one of his many viewing gears.

Beside him was his small apprentice, Uzura, who looked quite the opposite of satisfied.

"So, Uzura?" he asked, "What do you think? Our story is coming along beautifully, don't you agree?"

She shook her head furiously, the curls atop her head whipping in the air. "But Fakir and Ahiru aren't being love-love, zura!"

"Ah, Uzura, you're young yet." Drosselmeyer patted her head. "Relationships don't just happen overnight, you have to give them time."

She pouted. "But they've had enough time, and it's time for them to be love-dovey, zura!" she insisted.

He chuckled. "Relationships have their ups and downs, Uzura. That's what makes the ups so sweet," he turned his attention back to the turning apparatus with a sinister smirk, "and the tragedy all the sweeter."

Uzura scowled before turning away and marching off, angrily beating her drum.

Drosselmeyer cackled with a baleful joy. "Ah, my dearest little duck, you haven't failed me yet."