Princess Tutu Fan Fiction ❯ Princess Tutu: the Diamond in the Rough ❯ Music: Danse Macabre/Anitra's Dance ( Chapter 2 )

Chapter II

 

Music: Danse Macabre, Anitra's Dance

 

Siegfried then began to tell his story: “Ever since I received all of my heart, and since we were able to finish the story, I have slowly been able to regain my memory. Now that it has fully returned, I shall fill you in on my past. In truth, I was born centuries ago, and I am quite familiar with the activities of Drosselmyer. He actually tried to use his powers to wrest the throne from me and my mother—one Princess Adelheid.”

They all looked shocked at this, and Fakir just had to ask the obvious, “Is what happened here what happened to your mother?”

“Sadly, yes,” he continued, “In the town, there were five practitioners of the black arts. At that time, if they had been caught, they certainly would have been burned at the stake for this, and because they were murderers! Drosselmyer took advantage of this, transforming my mother into a good sorceress who could do battle with them. To make a long story short, she used a diamond in the rough as a focus within which to trap them. However, all this was as Drosselmyer wrote, and he caused it so, that she was entrapped with them. Now, somewhere in Goldkronesburg, the diamond is buried, though accessible. Yet, he wrote the tragedy in line with how must tragedies go. He left a sliver of hope. Her magic was such that, combined with theirs whosoever would find it could wish one wish that would be granted, and this would set her soul free to be at peace. However, if anyone were to which another, this would release the five, and also bring bad results for the wish made.”

“But, darling,” said Rue, shocked at his past and knowing that this was the first she had heard this, “How do you play into this?”

“It wasn't long after finishing this story that he began what was to be his masterpiece,” continued Siegfried, “Of course, this involved me. Yet, his few trusted aids had learned that his time was short, because the villagers had caught on to what was happening, and they were prepared to end his mischief. As a precaution, he had that machine built that you destroyed to continue to control the town from beyond the grave. He also set things as such, that, if it came down to it, he could literally entrap me in the pages of his manuscript with the Raven, to be locked in eternal combat in an unfinished tale. All this he did and all happened as he had foreseen. The townsfolk unwittingly entrapped themselves in the story, and locked it into place. Everyone was unaware that they were trapped in the town, and none could either leave or enter the town unless it made sense to the story. This is something that Tutu observed as she was working to restore my heart. Times advanced, and some modern things were allowed, but were mixed some old renaissance feel to it all.”

“How did you get our?” asked Fakir.

“Because the tale was unfinished,” continued Siegfried, “and because the bridge between fantasy and reality was left open, we managed to find the bridge after centuries of fighting. I exited, but the Raven was in hot pursuit. That's when all we know transpired. Remember how you told me that you thought you conjured up those ravens, Fakir?”

“Like I could forget that!” said Fakir, rolling his eyes.

“It wasn't you,” retorted Siegfried, “It was a result of the Raven's play for world conquest. Remember, it wasn't long after that you found me, locked into this bodily age without a soul, awaiting an end to the tale.”

“Therefore,” interjected Rue, “your claim to the throne was quite legitimate.”

“Yes,” he said, “but now, my mother can have peace.”

“You're not suggesting that I rewrite the tale so your mother was not trapped?” asked Fakir.

“No,” said Siegfried, “for I hear what you fear. It would be too great a disturbance to the time/space continuum. You could quite write us form existence. You just have to find a way to set her free.”

“Then, give me time,” said Fakir, “You've sped things up, but I still have to skim the story to ensure proper characterization, and that I keep it all in context. It has to be done right.”

“Of course,” said Siegfried, looking a bit sad. Fakir then said, “As soon as I can, I will get on it!”

 

All this time, the drake had watched the exchange, at a loss as to what was said, lacking an understanding of the language. He then saw the sad eyes of the prince, and asked the duck, “Who is that?”

“He's the one that outlawed duck hunting in the principality!” she said, “And he's a good friend.”

“But he looks so sad,” he said, and then embraced his calf to try to cheer him up. Siegfried, now brought to by the odd sensation of wet feathers on his leg, said, “Hello! I have a wet duck attached to my leg!”

The duck quacked, chuckled, pointed to the drake, did the mime for “love,” and pointed at Siegfried. “Um…yes…I see this,” he said, “Now, could you tell him `You're welcome,' and have him let go?”

This the duck did, and the drake let him go, returning to the rest of the flock. Siegfried then turned to Fakir, and said, “I shall pick you up for school tomorrow. Bring Tutu with you.”

“What?” said Fakir, “I don't think they will like that.”

“Leave that to me,” said Siegfried, “Besides, you cannot keep her cooped up all winter. What would she do? Unless she plans to migrate, I would keep her with us.”

He then turned to the duck and said, “Are you going to migrate for the winter?”

She took the position of refusal, and then flew into the arms of Fakir, embracing him. “Well, I guess that answers that! See you tomorrow!”

They all gave a group hug, and the couple prepared to go. However, as they did, they saw the oddest sight. Nearly 100 ducks in the lake were waiving good-bye to him! He, with a confused look on his face, returned the wave, and the couple began to leave. However, as they did, the duck could have sworn she heard one of them say, “When we come back in the spring, we need to stay here—she's got it going on!”

 

Meanwhile, Drosselmyer was watching the whole thing with great delight. He knew that he could now act, and exact his revenge on Goldkronesburg, the principality, and eventually, all them who broke off his control to begin with. All he had to do was wait for his distant grandson to put pen to the manuscript and start the cogs moving again. Once done, he could then sneak in and add his own “embellishments” to the story. However, before that could happen he had to watch and see who would step forward and give him what he needed to get the ball rolling. After all, in his position, time no longer held meaning, and thus, he had all the time in the world!

 

Fakir spent time getting his things ready for the next day, and played some relaxing music. While he did this, thoughts turned to the conversation earlier that day, and the sense of urgency on the face of Siegfried. He should have been amazed at just how old he truly was, (which would explain his hair color.) However, considering how the fantasy world painted its brushstroke across the principality, it was hard to be surprised at anything, especially when one brushstroke now sat in his house. As “Anitra's Dance” came up, he looked over at the duck, and saw how she contentedly twirled and danced around the room. She had not forgotten what she had been, retained her intelligence, and still danced. In fact, she practiced whenever she could! He watched her, remembering how that they had once been foes, and then he remembered how her courage saved the lives of Rue, Siegfried, and even his own. In fact, she had even managed to soften him some. He could not be bitter anymore, especially towards her. He loved her dearly, and he did not know if he could go on of anything happened to her. He watched her dance, and she now danced with a confidence and peace he never saw her possess as a girl. He had to assume that she now had all the confidence in the world, having helped curtail the Raven's plan, not as Tutu, but as herself—a duck! In fact, with his help, Tutu emerged from her astrally, and through the duck, gave Siegfried what he needed to finish the job. Sometimes, he wondered if Tutu had been an actual person. Knowing Drosselmyer, this was a possibility! Could it have been that, when she turned into a speck of light, she eventually came back as a duck? Maybe one day, he could uncover the truth. Still, she also showed a confidence of someone who was grounded, and rooted in who she was, and someone who loved herself. As she danced, though her dance was not quite as graceful as Tutu, much of Tutu shown through. When the music ended, she was in a deep curtsey, and she looked up to see Fakir watching her intently. An awkward moment arose. They stared at each other for about a good 20 seconds. Yes, the romance was thick enough to walk on, however, where to go from here was the awkward thing. He scooped her up, and embraced her. “I love you so much,” he said, “What do we do?”

 

 

 

1