Princess Tutu Fan Fiction ❯ Princess Tutu: the Diamond in the Rough ❯ Music: Night on Bald Mountain ( Chapter 11 )

Chapter XI

 

Music: Night on Bald Mountain

 

Now both Felix and Drosselmyer were beside themselves. Felix was watching his friends disappearing faster than flowers being plucked by a little girl for a daisy chain. Drosselmyer was watching his tragedy fall apart once again, and there seemed to be no way of stopping it. Felix was quite reluctant to do anything now, and to a little extent, held Drosselmyer responsible for the losses. He got into Drosselmyer's face and said, “Okay, now what do I do!”

“I am not certain anything can be done,” he said, “I have never had a story where the characters wrote it themselves. I have always been in control, except for once.”

“Oh?” said Felix, “and when was that?”

“Not even last year,” said Drosselmyer, “It was when my meddlesome distant grandson decided to try to overpower my story. Instead, he wrote a story about Tutu that he interwove into the action, and it messed everything up. If I could only get at this story, it would be different.”

“How are you going to do that?” asked Felix, “They have it sealed and vaulted away.”

They thought for a moment, and then Felix asked, “Who has access to that vault?”

“Only the royalty has access, and one butler,” said Drosselmyer, “Yet, I cannot see…”

He stopped, and then said, “…the royalty!”

“What are you scheming, Drosselmyer?” asked Felix, “After all that has happened, I do not think I trust you a whole lot!”

“I just remembered something,” said Drosselmyer, with a dreamy look in his eye.

“What does it have to do with the story?” demanded Felix.

“If you want to challenge a hero,” said Drosselmyer, “You need a villain that is equal to the hero in just about every respect, and I think we have one.”

He then pointed to a cog that displayed the face of Rue as she went about her daily business. “There is your answer.”

“The princess consort?” asked Felix, “She's friends with everyone else. How can she help?”

“Ah, but you see, dear Felix,” said Drosselmyer, rubbing his hands together, “in the last story, she was a villain for a time, until the ultimate villain reared his head. She did indeed see the error of her ways. However, because of the nature of the story, she has raven's blood still in her veins.”

“What are you saying?” asked Felix, his eyes narrowing, thinking that he was catching on.

“All that needs to be done is for you to enter into her, stir up that blood, and make her the villain once more,” said Drosselmyer.

“Right!” snuffed Felix, “and just how do I do that?”

“You must pick a time that she is open to suggestion,” said Drosselmyer, “then you can do what you wish.”

“What about Tutu?” he then asked, “How do I stop her?”

“Rue, that is to say, Princess Kraehe, will know,” answered Drosselmyer, “She would never let Tutu get near her with that amulet.”

Felix thought for a moment, and then said, “Wait, I can go while she is asleep. She would be wide open to suggestion then.”

“Very good!” exclaimed Drosselmyer, “Then you can have her extract the manuscript, force Fakir to bring it up to date, and then bring the whole thing to a tragic conclusion, maybe even release your friends!”

“Maybe, we can even get rid of Adelheid,” pondered Felix.

“A very distinct possibility,” said Drosselmyer, “Let us lay the trap, the same night as the ball!”

They then lay in wait for the first chance to strike.

 

The ball was a success, Kelsey was free, and Fakir and Ahiru were freely expressing their love for one another, even though they knew that it could not last. They were willing to not give up hope that one day, even if she had to be a duck again, that it could change. They accepted what could happen, because Ahiru had finally come to realize that, it is not the outer appearance that makes a person what one is, but what lay in the heart. She knew that Fakir would love her—love her—not what she looked like. Nothing could stop that now. That night, everyone got ready for bed, and Rue was feeling as light as a feather. Her friends were finally finding peace, there was only one more warlock left to defeat, and she would marry her prince. Once this was done, they could finally put the past behind them, and move on. She finally was able to be drowsy enough to sleep. Felix had been waiting for this chance. Once she was in a deep sleep, he began to deal with her. “You are the Raven's daughter,” he whispered.

“No, I never was,” protested Rue in her sleep.

“Tutu and Siegfried killed your father,” he said further.

“I am a human,” said Rue, “I am not a crow.”

“Tutu wants to steal your prince,” he said, “She always has.”

“No, she has what she wants,” Rue protested.

“Come now,” he said, “Why take a chance?”

“What do you want,” she said.

“Let me in,” he said, “and I will insure that you will never lose the prince.”

“I don't want to lose him,” she said, now turning in her sleep. That was the inroad for which he probed, and he moved in for the kill.

“I can insure you keep the prince forever, I can help,” said Felix, now casting his spell on her.

“I want the prince,” she said, “Help me keep the prince.”

“Good girl,” he said, and he entered in.

 

However, when Rue awoke the next morning, she felt conflicted. She did not know why, but the prince, and keeping him was all she had on her mind. Even though Felix had gotten in, place was not entirely found for him. He had to share it with Siegfried. However, he felt that he had enough of a toehold on her to get her to do what he wanted. “Get the manuscript,” she heard in her head, but she did not know why. He now figured that this was going to take some drastic measures. He tapped into her adrenal glands, and started to stir up some memories where Tutu was vying for the heart of Siegfried. He kept trying to tap into her anger at the attempt to steal him, and trying to stir up her raven's blood. “You will do as I say,” he finally said, and she fought him, growling out, “No, I won't! Leave Duck alone!”

“You must stop her,” he said, “and then get the manuscript. Be the only princess. Don't take a chance.”

She fought, but vainly, as her raven's blood stirred, and the bad memories seemed to become more real as the moments passed. “You cannot win, girl,” he said, “If you resist, I shall cause you torment.”

With that, he caused her to remember the sick feeling of deception she felt when she found out her true origins, and realized just how much she had lost. However, somehow, he was shaping it in such a fashion that, if Tutu had not come along, all would have been fine. Tutu caused her the painful memories and realizations. “NO!” she screamed, and fell behind the bed. At that, the room began to fill with swirling feathers.

 

Ahiru was now dreaming, and she was dreaming of Fakir. In her dream, she was a duck, and she was in his arms as he danced. She felt safe and strong, even though she was like this. He set her down, and they began to dance side by side. In fact, they were doing what would be considered the grand pas de deux. Yes, all would be well. All she had to do was keep hope, keep dancing, and keep smiling. However, out of nowhere, she saw a horrifying sight, as she heard, “And now you will pay for what you did!”

When she looked over, she was shocked to see Kraehe, holding a dagger, getting ready to thrust it into the heart of Fakir. “NO!” she screamed, but knowing she could do nothing as a duck. She then saw on the beach the diamond shard, and went for it. What she did not realize was that Kraehe had actually entered the room, and she had unconsciously started to reach for the gem. Ahiru was in a semi-wakened state at this point, and just before she grabbed it, she came fully awake, and she stopped. It was not because she did not want to grab it, but because she was attempting to look around the room to see what was going on. She was shocked to indeed see Kraehe standing there, and before she could act, a black vine arose and restrained her hand, “Ah, ah, ah—very naughty, Duck!”

“Rue!” screamed Ahiru, “What are you doing? How did this happen?”

“There is no Rue!” she thundered as she crossed the room, and slapped Ahiru in the face—hard! She screamed in pain, and began to cry uncontrollably. “Why, Rue, why are you doing this?” she sobbed.

“No one is going to take the prince from me. He is mine!”

“But Rue,” said Ahiru, “I'm not trying…” but that was all she was able to say, as Kraehe raised the back of her hand, and Ahiru cowered back. Kraehe said, “It is princess Kraehe, and if you had just stayed out of things, none of what we know would have happened! Now you are going to pay dearly for this!”

With that, she bound Ahiru's hand, and dragged her out of the room. Ahiru knew that she was not in her right mind—she could not be! However, Freya began to hear the struggling outside, and came to investigate. She looked in horror at the sight! “Who are you?” she demanded, to which Kraehe replied, “Your worst nightmare!”

In an instant, she was entangled, and then bound as well. Vines entwined Ahiru as well, and the roots came out of the ground and began to walk. Kraehe then said, “In the lower parts of the palace, there are some interesting rooms. I think I am going to give you a first-hand look at just how interesting!”

 

At this point, they were in the torture chambers and the dungeons of the old palace from many centuries before. She had Freya and Ahiru tied to some interesting racks. At the end of each rope sat a large barrel, which sat over a hole. Kraehe then said, “When I pull this lever, water will trickle down from a stream above us. I am going to set it very slow, because I want to make sure you gain the full benefits of the `treatment.' The water will eventually fill the barrels, and, in a matter of hours, you will be pulled apart!”

“Why are you doing this,” asked Freya, “What did we ever do to you?”

“You denied my father a heart,” she said, “And you could not mind your own business!”

“Please, Rue,” said Ahiru, “I know the real Rue is in there somewhere. You have to fight this. The Raven was not your father. We are your friends! I helped save your life!”

Kraehe stopped, staggered, and began to shout, “Get out of my head!” but to no avail. The torment came again, and again, she yielded. Kraehe got back that evil look in her eyes, and said, “Don't bother screaming, ladies, because, where you are, no one will hear you. I suggest you conserve your energy, because, the less you expend, the longer you last. However, you have to ask yourself what is worse: being pulled apart, or dying of thirst. You shall have plenty of time to ponder that. Ta-Ta, ladies!”

As she left, Ahiru then began to shout, “You are an imposter! Even Kraehe would not have been this cruel!”

“What is going on,” asked Freya.

“It has to be the last warlock,” said Ahiru, “Somehow, he got in, but I don't think that this is what she wanted. Our only hope now is the boys. They have to stop her.”

However, Ahiru wondered just what could be done. Both ladies then lay there, watching the water, wondering just how long they did have.

 

At this point, Fakir was just coming to, getting ready for the day, as was the prince. However, Kraehe had already been there, and she entangled the door with her black vines to the point where the prince could not get out. The prince tried, but he was not successful. He was beginning to ponder how to get out of this, when he heard voices outside. Fakir was stepping out of his room, and ran right into Kraehe. She had the manuscript for Adelheid and the Five Warlocks in her hand. “What!” he exclaimed, “How…why…what are you doing!”

“Tending to a waste of a knight that does not even know how to die correctly,” she said snidely, and immediately ensnared him as he had the girls. At that, she took him to one of the highest towers in the palace, and set him at a table with all he would need to write. “Now, you are going to write, and fill in all the events from the diamond shard on to now. When you get to now, you shall be told what to write.”

The vines set him in the chair, but restrained his left hand. There was a reason for this. Fakir then said, “I would love to know just what you think you are going to do to get me to write.”

“Oh, I have my ways,” she said, and with that, she exclaimed, “Oh, Drosselmyer, darling!”

Everything in the room stilled. The coffin shaped grandfather clock appeared, and out stepped Drosselmyer. “Don't worry, boy,” said Drosselmyer, “Time shall not stop while I am here for long. I want to conserve myself. I want to be sure that I am here long enough for you to finish this epic! You just have not learned, have you? Mess with my manuscripts while in one of my stories, and you leave yourself open to my power.”

With that said, Fakir's free hand suddenly rose up and grabbed the quill. He then began to write, and write frantically. Fakir did all he could to free his other hand to stop himself, but there was nothing he could do. “It's no use to resist, son,” he said, “You are my blood, and in my story. You just had to activate it, didn't you? You gave me a way in. Even if you were to win, I will insure that this will always be the result. Because of your blood, when I am here, I will always be able to use you.”

He began to laugh uncontrollably, and he watched with great satisfaction. It was then that Kraehe suddenly realized that the others may be berthing at that point, and they may try to find the girls. If they were able to free the prince, they may try to free the girls, and then it would all be over. She looked at Drosselmyer, and said, “I am going to ensure that no one disturbs you. You need time, and I shall buy some.”

“Curse you, you crow!” said Fakir, “I don't know what you did with Rue, but I am going to make you pay dearly if I can get out of this!”

However, he knew it was a vain statement to make as she left, and he sat there, continuing to write. What would they do now?

 

 

 

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