Duck watched as another crumpled piece of paper fell to the ground, rolling beside her. She was rested in a nice patch of grass under the shade, next to her friend Fakir, who was still honing his skills as a writer. Fakir, with his long, dark-green hair, falling past his back; deep, dark-green eyes to match, and olive-colored skin that shimmered in the sunlight. He wore his usual attire: a dark-blue shirt with torn sleeves and black leggings. His hands worked like quick-silver when writing, eyes concentrated and lips pressed tightly together. Duck sat and kept him company most of the time if she wasn't dozing off in the lake.
It had been over a year since they had defeated the Raven King and Prince Mytho and Rue had married and left for his kingdom. They had been to see them only once since then. The two were so content together and Duck was happy for them. She had no regrets about the choices she made to save Mytho and Kinkan Town. Her initial love for Mytho was merely infatuation and a strong desire to put a smile onto his face, and with that she had succeeded.
Memories of living as a human and transforming into Princess Tutu still filtered her thoughts and dreams, though. She remembered her two best friends: Pique and Lilie; Mr. Cat, who repeatedly threatened her with marriage if she didn't focus and improve; Edel, who had aided her throughout her quest to restore the Princes' heart fragments, but most of all, she remembered her elegance as Princess Tutu. The poise, the grace, the 'Princess of Dance' that made even Prince Mytho swoon at her feet. Now, she was just a plain duck, but she had long accepted that.
During their pas de deux, Fakir had promised that he'd stay by her side forever, despite her form as a duck. Her last moments of being human, dancing with Fakir, she'd felt confident and strong, not like her usual quirky, unsteady-self, that she had always been made fun of for.
An irritated groan escaped Fakir's mouth as he threw his quill and papers to the ground and pulled his fingers through his dark hair, trying to keep calm. Duck looked up at him concerned.
"Qua? ( What's wrong, Fakir?) " She quacked.
Fakir brought his gaze to Duck, and let a soft smile fall across his face.
"I'm fine, Duck. Just having a hard time writing this story is all."
Duck tilted her head a bit. He'd been writing this story for awhile now, and whatever it was that he was writing about, wasn't coming out the way he wanted it too. He wouldn't even let her look to see what the story was about.
Duck waddled quickly over to the stack of papers that rested on the grass, but she wasn't fast enough. Fakir snatched them up and moved them to the other side of him so she couldn't see it.
"Quack?! ( Why not?! )" She pouted, pulling at his shirt.
Fakir chuckled and picked her up gently. "I'll let you see it later." He said, setting her on his lap.
Duck let out an irritated "huff" and looked away.
Fakir was always like this. He would spend months writing a story without letting her even sneak a peek, but the wait was always worth it. When Fakir was done, he would sit her in the hand-woven basket he had made just for her, with plenty of bread crumbs for her to munch on, and then sit down beside her and read her his story. Duck loved listening to Fakir. His voice was smooth and seemed to caress her, even lulling her to sleep at times.
Fakir had gotten so good at writing stories, he now knew how to write them in a way so that they didn't come true like Drosselmeyer's. Duck was glad Fakir had found something to focus on after Prince Mytho had left. Other than diligently practicing on writing stories, Fakir had continued his studies in ballet at Kinkan Gakuen, the ballet school that they had both attended before. He was the best in his class and the new "Prince" of the academy. Duck couldn't help but feel a bit jealous at the thought of all the girls who admired him. She was one of them, sort of. Just in duck form.
She looked up at Fakir, who rested on the trunk of the tree they always sat under next to the lake. His eyes were closed, and his head rested on the tree. Duck's heart smiled at his quaint beauty, as she nestled her head down and fell asleep.
Fakir sat in silence with his eyes closed, thinking. In what way could he write this story so that it would become reality? All this time he had practiced so that it wouldn't, in wariness of the issue he had had before, being a descendant of Drosselmeyer and all. So far he had been left alone. None of his previous stories had resulted in him being threatened to get his hands cut off, unlike that time with the Raven King. He opened his eyes, sneaking a peek at Duck, who slept comfortably on his lap. He let out a soft chuckle, caressing the single feather on top of her head. He would find a way to bring her back; not as Princess Tutu, but as human Duck, with no strings attached. She would be able to be a normal human girl and enjoy life.
Drosselmeyer had turned her into a human girl before with a pendant, that had been, unbeknownst to all, the prince's heart fragment. Could he possibly do something similar, but without the whole heart issue?
Fakir let out a sigh and stare at Duck. He had only just realized how much he had cared for her-loved her, when suddenly, she was gone, reverted back to a duck. She had done so much for everyone, with such a self-sacrificing spirit, never asking for more.
Without her, Mytho would have forever been an empty shell and he himself would still be the loyal knight, who was doomed to die by the Raven's talons. So for what reason had she gotten the raw end of everything? Mytho and Rue were married happily in his kingdom, Kinkan Town had reverted back to how it originally was, and he was living his life to the fullest. Yet, Duck.. he brought his sad, green eyes to her small figure. Duck would forever remain, well, a Duck. However cute she was as a Duck, Fakir longed for the quirky, animated human Duck, who, with her glowing coastal blue eyes, long, orange hair, and bright smile, always seemed to annoy the hell out of him, but even more so, brought a smile to his face.
He brushed two of his fingers over the small of Duck's back.
"Is that what you want, too? To become a human girl again?" He looked down at her. She slept soundly, unable to hear his thoughts. "Or is it only my selfish desire?"
Fakir let out a sigh and tilted his head against the trunk, watching the sun set behind the clusters of trees beyond the lake, which sparkled with the last remaining light.
That was when the idea hit him.
Why hadn't he thought of it before? The quill in Fakir's hand quivered with excitement and he had to force his arm to sit still before he started writing. There he sat in his chair, at his desk, preparing himself. He let out a breath of air, briefly glancing back to look at the stairway which led to his room. There Duck lay, sleeping in her basket. Would it really work? Would she awaken as a human girl? Or... Fakir shook his head. If it didn't work he would continue trying. There would be no cons to this like before. No disappearing in a flash of light, nothing. The idea was perfect.
Fakir inhaled deeply as he dipped his quill into the ink bottle, pulled it out and pressed it against the paper.
And so he sat, writing by candle light. The story of a man who's undying love turned a duck, into a human girl.