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I DO NOT OWN PRINCESS TUTU
"QUACK!" The duck squealed, sounding very much unlike a duck.
Fakir turned around to see that the source of the loud crashing noises that came from the stairs was none other than Duck.
"Moron. Be careful."
"Quack." She said as defiantly as she could.
"Neither me nor Chiron fall as much as you do. Those stairs aren't that slippery."
'Well I don't have feet, Fakir, just these stupid webbed paw thingies!'
Duck pouted as she stood up from her sprawled out position on the floor. Her wings flapped underneath her.
She walked over to the table and flew up to the chair and settled herself down.
"Are you hungry?"
"I have no idea what that means…" he muttered to himself.
"Quack, Quack, Quack." She explained.
It was so hard to see her trapped in that body. All of her friends hated that idiot Mytho. Especially Fakir. Mytho had Duck's love, and he gave it up to be with a raven. And not just any raven, Kraehe. The Raven's "daughter." And now that the story was over, and they had won, Fakir and Duck were useless. And she was transformed back to her old self. But not the old self that her friends wanted back. They wanted that girl who had no grace, but still tried to do her best in ballet. They wanted that girl who had the same color hair as the fall leaves. They wanted the girl who would defiantly pout whenever anyone said something bad about Mytho. They just wanted her back. Even if she still did love Mytho.
It had been almost five years since he had gotten back the last of his heart shards, one of which turned her back into a duck. Five years that Fakir had taken care of her. He wished desperately that he could rewrite the story and keep her human. But he was scared. He rubbed the faded scar on his hand, where he had stabbed himself when his last story had started to go terribly wrong.
"QUACK!" he jumped out of his dazes and looked down at the now smoking pot of food. The yellow duck was running/ flying around in frenzy.
"Calm down moron." He said as he walked over to the sink. He then poured water over the ashes, then tossed it into the garbage.
"Oh well… here Duck." He placed a bowl of broken up bread in front of her.
"Quack?" She looked up at him.
"I'm going upstairs." He responded in answer to her non-understandable question.
With that he turned around and walked up the stairs Duck had just fallen down. He climbed faster than she could waddle, and he closed his room door behind him.
He sat down in the desk with the feather pen Duck had made for him. He dipped it in ink and ran his finger over the blank page in front of him. How to start?
He set the pen on the page and breathed a deep breath. He would control it. His hand started to move as he wrote out the first line.
There once was a girl who gave everything to the one she loved. In return, the boy gave his love to another. The girl he had thrown aside still loved him, though she knew she was a fool for doing so. She did not hate the girl her love had chosen, in fact she felt sorry for her. This girl was cruel and even more heartless than the prince. Her heart was as black as a raven's feathers.
This foolish girl, the one they called "Duck", had given her humanity up for her love. In return, she had accepted her cruel fate. She was knowingly turned into the fowl after which she was named.
There was another man, however, that would not accept that the young woman he loved had met such a fate. He did not believe in fate. Nor would he ever. He did believe in one thing, that he would do anything for her.
"WHAT?!" He yelled out loud.
She was always there, smiling when he needed it. She was the type of person who could do something with out even knowing, but then trip and fall, letting her self go, since she thought no one was there to catch her.
It was nearing the fifth anniversary of the day she had turned back to her true self. On that day, however, she woke up to find herself human. She awoke next to the man who loved her.
He was having even more difficulty controlling his hands now; they were flying across the page. He didn't think the majority of the things he had written down were true, well, at least not the parts concerning him.
The man was shocked that his love was back. But before he could say anything, she quacked. And she turned back. Her auburn hair was turning into yellow feathers, her fingers turning to wings. This wasn't how he wanted it to end.
"Duck!" He called.
He ran to the kitchen, desperately trying to remember what had turned her. Not a moment after he had given up he heard a loud crash and glass shattering. He ran back up the stairs to see a girl covered in glass. She had auburn red hair that reached her waist. It was moist and had shards of glass in it. The girl's eyes were closed; she looked as though she had passed out. The girl was naked, and from her height, long legs, and the long wavy hair falling from her head that covered her like a cloak, he could decide that she wasn't his beloved. But he was wrong. She opened her eyes and they shone crystal blue. They glinted in the early morning light.
His hand suddenly stopped. 'Thank the Gods.' If he wrote anymore it probably would have turned hopelessly tragic. Not to say that it wouldn't eventually or hadn't already. Tomorrow was the anniversary. But he didn't love her…
"QUACK!" He saw an orange bill pop under the door. How long had she been there… how long had he been writing?
He looked out the window and saw that the sky was full of pinks, purples, and oranges. He couldn't have been writing that long, could he? Just to check, he looked at his watch. It read "8:00 PM." Never mind, he had just wasted ten hours of his life. But then again, he wasn't truly wasting them if the fool would be turned back into her human form again.
She must be getting pretty hungry. He walked over and opened the door.
"Quack, quack?" she put her wings on her sides as best she could.
"Quack, quack, quack," he mimicked. "No. I'm not talking about my life to a duck." She glared at him angrily.
"Quack, Quack!" she exclaimed.
"You know I can't understand you, right?"
'But I'll be able to tomorrow, right?' He thought
'Only if you really want it too, my grandson…' he heard echo throughout his head. He didn't even jump. He knew who it was.
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