Please Take Note: I do not own Princess Tutu!
Fakir sighed, rubbing his aching fingers. He had been holding his quill all day, but had only been able to think up four words to write.
Once upon a time…
Disgusted at his lack of wordage, he crumpled the paper and threw it into the pond he was sitting by, lounging in his chair. The action earned him a reproachful and annoyed look from the duck splashing about near the dock. She grabbed the soaked paper wad in her beak and set it on the shore before resuming her play.
Fakir smiled sadly. How he longed to talk to her again, and to have her talk back. If only she had her body back. He wished that there was some way he could…
He stopped himself. There was a way, but after the incident after incident they'd endured because of Drosslemeyer, he'd promised himself that he would never use the power he'd inherited. He wrote because he loved it, not to bring things to pass.
As if she knew what he was struggling with himself about, Ahiru waddled over and rested her head on his knee, comforting him.
"Come on, Ahiru. Its' starting to get dark. Charon will be worried. Let's go back," Fakir said, holding out his hands. She hopped into his arms, and he carried her home.
Charon had already prepared dinner, a warm stew, and it smelled heavenly. Although she'd been a duck for almost two months now, Ahiru still preferred human food, so when Fakir set out bowls he laid one out for her, too.
Hopping from the floor to a chair to the table, Ahiru sat down by her bowl. As usual, she fumbled for a few minutes trying to use a spoon before giving up and drinking the soup.
Fakir's heart ached for her. It just wasn't fair! The girl who'd softened his heart, stuck as a duck forever! His ears reddened slightly. That thought had been a bit gushy.
He ate slowly, watching Ahiru quietly. She could feel his gaze, but ignored it. She knew what he was thinking about, and she had no desire to discuss that particular subject. Or, more accurately, listen to him talk and try to decipher her quacks into answers.
She was a duck, and always would be, no matter how hard she tried to act human. It was the sad truth, but she just didn't want to talk about it.
After dinner, Ahiru disappeared outside while Fakir was talking to Charon about something. Moving out of sight of the door and windows, she clumsily attempted to dance one of her old ballet routines. Ballet was one of the things about being human that she'd miss most.
She heard the door open, and quickly halted her dancing. What would Fakir say if he knew she still tried to dance?
Probably something the words 'idiot' or 'moron', she decided.
It was Charon, though, not Fakir. Upon catching sight of her, He held out a little basket, with padding and a little blanket. Ahiru quacked with happiness. No more sleeping on Raetsel's old pillow!
She hopped into the basket, and was curled up in the blanket before Charon had gotten her into Raetsel's room, now her own. He set her on the nightstand, and then stated to leave.
When he reached the door, he looked over his shoulder, he whispered with the air of someone spilling a juicy secret.
"I was Fakir's idea. Don't tell him I told you!" he exclaimed, and vanished.
He closed the door behind him, leaving her in total darkness. She was stunned. Fakir? He'd thought of doing this for her?
Putting the thought to the back of her mind, she snuggled deeper into the blankets and dozed off.
A few minutes later, Fakir walked in holding a book.
"She forgot," he thought, staring at the sleeping duck. He sighed quietly. "I'll just have to read it to her tomorrow."
When Ahiru awoke the next morning, she saw the book Fakir had left on the bed and instantly felt horrible. Amid the joy of getting her own little bed, she'd forgotten all about Fakir reading to her. It shouldn't have been hard to remember at all! They'd done it nearly every night since she'd become a duck!
Wanting to find a way to apologize, she kicked the book down the stairs, then picked it up in her beak and waddled into the kitchen.
Fakir was already up and dressed, and he looked down at her from his seat at the table.
Ahiru put the book on the ground near his feet and quacked sadly.
"It's all right, idiot, just don't forget again," Fakir told her, half smiling. She quacked in happy agreement.
Fakir picked up the book and put it on the table, then reached down to pick Ahiru up and put her on the table.
Much to Ahiru's delight, there was a small doll's chair on the table where she usually sat. She hopped on, and sat just like she would've as a human.
After breakfast, Fakir had to go to school. Ahiru watched him go sadly. She could never think of what to do while he was gone. She was so lonely!
For most of the day, Ahiru swam in the pond. Eventually, though, she decided to try and dance again. Standing on the dock, she started to dance.
She kept tripping over her feet, but it was the happiest she'd been in a while. Time flew by, and soon Fakir was on his way back from school.
When he got home, he asked Charon where Ahiru had gone. After being directed to the pond, he ran off. When he spotted her, he froze. She was dancing. Just like the final battle she'd had.
As he watched, she tripped. She sat back up for a moment, then flopped onto her side, depressed.
That's when Fakir decided. Promise or not, he would write her body back to her!