by Thyme In Her Eyes

Author's Notes: Another Tutu-fic, this time from Mytho's perspective. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. And just to disclaim: I don't own the show or characters and am making no profit from writing this. Enjoy!


His heart was whole now, and made of flesh and blood once again, yet it never forgot magic. Not long ago, it had been a mass of jeweled shards, all its broken pieces gathered together clumsily and dangerously within him as he learned to unlock each new emotion. Even now, he still faintly believed that his heart was built into a mirror made of three panels, for that was how it often felt. In those panels were three faces he knew and loved well, and none of them were his own, though they had all given his heart so much. Each face was a princess, and each one had given him life.


Tutu woke him, like a burst of sunshine. Like fresh water, she sparkled and restored. And like hope, she called to him, kept him strong, and never allowed him to give up on himself.

Before meeting her, he lived in a universe of fog. It was a barren and bewildered place; a dream-like state too empty and dull to really be called a dream. And in it, everyone was the same and he felt nothing.

But the moment he first saw Princess Tutu, he knew she was like no-one else. She was different, so different from everyone and everything he'd ever known before, or would again. He used to see everyone in exactly the same light, if it could be called that, but she had a light that was all her own. Here was someone like himself, and with that thought, he began to stir from his dim slumber and remember.

The scent of flowers danced around her, and even after she caught him and saved him, he was still falling somehow, pulled down into her kind smile and open heart by a feeling he couldn't yet name, but which shivered with life whenever he was near her. Her smile was like the sunlight, which he could now see and feel for the first time, and it forever banished the gray dullness from his world. Her hands were soft and warm as she cradled each shard of his heart, touched it to his hollow chest, and tenderly guided him out of himself and led him towards the green and dawning day outside. His heart was bright and warm then, but she had been even more so.

She gave her love, and the will to regain himself.


Kraehe was the same, when she first appeared. He knew her the first moment he saw her, as she spun to the ground in a darkly sure and elegant fouetté, the way he first knew Tutu. Here again was someone different, someone who shaped his fate and commanded his notice, and he couldn't look away. With finality, he realized that here unmistakably was something like Princess Tutu; the dark and fatal side of the same magic. That alone was enough to frighten him. There was soon much else in her that frightened him even more.

Tutu was like a clear reflection on a sun-dappled day, but Kraehe was the black and cold depths of a pool that stole all light away and never returned it. She was darkness and pallor, a white moon consumed by shadows. She was real, alive and terrifying, and would never stop reaching for him with her clawed fingernails, so desperate to tear away the growing and precious warmth from his heart. With a cold, brittle smile she proclaimed him to be hers alone, and pulled him into a withering embrace of dark satin, black feathers and the choking scent of blood. So close, the pain that poured from her lashed at him furiously. Its taste was bitter and vile, and his heart began to ache in confusion and compassion, for so very lost she was in her own storm.

Again and again, she tried to stifle him and silence his heart, but ultimately she awoke him too, just as much as Tutu had. There could be no more simple black and white for him, after she bathed him in red.

She gave her love, and the Raven's blood.


And Rue?

Rue was always there. Rue was familiar. Rue was the love that sometimes protected in its devotion and sometimes smothered in its desperation. Rue was always the quiet and constant beat of his heart, so easily overlooked. Most of all, she was so much more than a name or a mask for the Raven's stolen daughter to hide behind and hate herself. Instead, she was the one who had loved him with utter truth and constancy, even when he gave her nothing but mockery and cruelty in return. She saved him not because she was written that way by the power of a severed hand, but on the strength and pure power of her own feelings. Rue was the one he needed to be whole and complete, the only one whose loss would have been unendurable.

Almost too late, as the memories of each day spent with her rushed back to him, he understood how terribly he had failed her. Between the radiant light of Princess Tutu and the bitter darkness of Princess Kraehe, Rue had faded; forgotten even by herself. And somehow, he'd allowed himself to be too consumed in wondering what exactly she was to him, that he never stopped and fully realized all he was to her.

She gave her love, and it was enough.

Clad in white and smiling beautifully, she dances with him now and forever, and is everything he wants.

- FIN -