After Ever After: Part 3 Bright morning sun flitted playfully through the drawn drapes, finding it's way to a sleepy Fakir. He stretched slowly, yawning a few times before escaping from the intoxicatingly warm, plush blankets and shivered. The lodge seems peculiarly cold this morning, Fakir thought. Perhaps there was a draft somewhere... Fakir dressed with the meticulous and rhythmic motion of a soldier and found his thoughts wandering to Duck. Would she be up yet? Would she feel any better today? As he perused about in his half dreamwalker state down the hallway, surprise mixed with unease grabbed hold of him as he noticed how cold it seemed to be on the
After Ever After: Part 2 Duck awoke slowly, light drifting sleepily through her half closed eyelids. Yawning absentmindedly, she glanced down at her yellow wing and felt s flicker of disappointment cross her heart. So it had been a dream after all-She really was only a duck again. Under the irresistible spell of the final dregs of sleep, Duck snuggled down onto the soft something she was resting on in an attempt to shelter herself from a cool breeze coming off the lake. Just then she felt her resting place shift under her and soon found she was being wrapped in a warm something or other that felt like
After Ever After: Part 1 "Let's compose our own ending of the story. Not just for Muyto's sake, but for our sakes as well." Fakir gazed deep into Duck's eyes as the two danced slowly in Despair. So close... Duck couldn't help but think about what Fakir had told her earlier-about staying beside her forever, even though she was really only a duck. It filled her heart with a warm, soft light when she thought about being with Fakir-but the way he was looking at her now, holding her tenderly in his arms scared her, and made her feel a little guilty. Shouldn't she want to still be with Muyto, even though he had always had Rue by his side? Deeply confused and
Not So Ugly Duckling Chap 1Not So Ugly DucklingBy: Anna-MorgauseDisclaimer: I do not own anything that has, even the slightest thing to do with Princess Tutu…at all…ever…never have…never will. Got it? Good.Description: Ahiru's life has always been someone else's toy, but what if she got to decide what happened to her?Quote of the Day: "A book is a version of the world. If you do not like it, ignore it; or offer your own version in return." –Salman RushdieChapter One: Abraca D'uhIn a cottage, in a small, but strange town, there was a young man full of grief sitting at his desk. You see, this young man (whose name was Fakir) was an au
PossessiveThroughout Ahiru's time as Princess Tutu she had met many interesting and, down right odd people. There had been Hermia-san, the girl who delivered love letters as Bottom-san, a woman who ran a restaurant in the woods, and various animal-people, but the most eccentric of them all by far had been Femio-san . . .. . . and he only seemed to have gotten worse with time.It had been four months since Fakir had turned her human again, and while people had not remembered her – though Charon did, he said it was hard to forget the one girl Fakir didn't hate at his school, Ahiru had blushed at that – she had made friends with Pique and Lillie again,
True SelfFakir was a hypocrite.He had told Ahiru it would be better for her to be her true self. That it was for their own good to return to who they truly were. It would be for the best.Fakir had never been more miserable in his life.He missed Ahiru. That's not to say he broke his promise, no Ahiru had her own basket in his room. Still he missed her. Missed talking to her, seeing that long red braid of hers trailing behind her in the wind as she raced to class for fear of Neko-sensie's marriage proposal. How her eyes would light up when she got a new ballet move right, or how she could keep smiling in the darkest situations.It was around the
PT: Love for One KnightThe glow of the lamp spilled over the cream colored pages as Fakir's quill ran over them, weaving a story as he had been doing for the past ten years. Writing came easier now, and though he'd had a few brushes with danger for spinning these tales, many were now going on as he had written them, and he had begun publishing children's books that were initially sold out of the used book store in town before the regular book store was willing to pick up sales.At this point in his life, Fakir had success in his grasp, and he knew for this he should be happy. Still, he thought, it didn't feel like enough, and the quill stuttered to a stop on the p
Sta.sh
