Hellooo there! This is my VERY FIRST EVER Princess Tutu story, so don't like, be all like RAWR if you think it's bad. Just review it please. Also, I'm only 13, so give me a break. :P

Disclaimer:

Me: I...I...I-can't say it! *sobs*

Fakir: Ugh. Do I always have to do everything for you? Fine then.

Fakir: This person, does not own and never will own Princess Tutu. *rolls eyes*

Me: *sobs harder*

P.S. Sorry if the end is a bit OOC. It's a bit sappy lol.

P.P.S. Just so you know, I never use a Thesaurus. Ever. Teehee.

Fakir sighed, a long, deep breath that was filled with exhaustion and tinged with the tiniest hint of despair. How ironic it was, he mused to himself, that he could risk his life for the prince without thought, when he, the knight who was supposed to protect people, couldn't even turn a duck back into a girl by writing a simple story. A dark laugh without any trace of humor in it escaped his lips, slightly startling him. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

He glanced out of the open window, down towards the lake, where a small duck sat on the shore, watching the ripples the fish made in the smooth surface grow larger and larger before fading away. Duck felt Fakir's gaze on her and looked up. Their eyes met for a moment, then Fakir dropped his gaze back to his paper.

He thought back to the time when Duck was a human. She did remind him of a duck in some ways. He admitted to himself she was a bit of a klutz. Okay, a lot of a klutz. She had never been the best dancer, and she couldn't cook to save her life. She was a peppy, stubborn girl who followed him everywhere. He actually hadn't minded her that much. She had helped him. He actually owed her his life, along with Mytho's and Rue's lives as well. Damn, the whole town owed her their lives, or at least their sanity. He sighed again.

Over time they had slowly grown closer together, probably a result of the countless battles they had fought for Mytho, side by side. Fakir didn't ever really hate her; he just had grown more tolerant of her presence. He actually kind of missed the old Duck, the one who asked him countless questions, the one who only quacked when she was afraid or startled, not all the time. The one who could speak.

What was wrong with him, he thought, shaking his head? He didn't miss any girl. Ever.

And then, all to soon, Duck, his closest friend and partner in their quest to retrieve Mytho's heart, had been taken away from him. Now she was just a duck. A duck that had once been a human. He was shocked that his eyes started stinging when he thought of this, and he pushed it away. He was being stupid. What did he care if she was a duck or not? It wasn't like it changed anything important…

As he came back to reality, he was gripping the desk so hard his knuckles were white. It was hell on earth trying to write her story. Nevertheless, he grabbed the quill almost violently, and shut his eyes tight as he tried to write the words that would not come.

The duck sat morosely on the rocks, oblivious to his anguish. Remembering the pas de deux dance she and Fakir had shared down at the bottom of the lake, back before she had been turned permanently back into a duck and the promise she had made to him, she told herself what she liked about being a bird, tried and tried to convince herself that she was truly a duck, not a girl, but somewhere deep in her heart she knew that she hated herself as she was now. She didn't act like a duck because, truly, she was a girl cursed to live in a duck's body. Being the helpless and defensive animal she was, her life was miserable and empty, and her heart ached when she thought of Fakir; his eyes were so sad these days. They looked exactly like Mytho's had before she returned his heart. When she turned back into a duck… could Fakir have…lost his heart?

"No," she said aloud. It came out as a defiant quack. She continued to think.

No, Fakir still has his heart. There's no way…how could he have…

Her thoughts trailed off, but another small voice in the back of her head contradicted her.

If he still had his heart, it sneered, then why is he shut up in his room all the time?

She brushed the thought away, ignoring the voice and settling with telling herself, "He's just busy, that's all." It was a stupid idea, really. Fakir hadn't been run through a sword anytime soon as far as she was concerned. Or had had it eaten by a raven. She shuddered at the very thought.

But, then… why did he look so lonely and depressed?

Upstairs in his room, Fakir concentrated harder than he ever had in his life, his hand smudging the ink as it raced across the page, scratching out random sentences here and there, almost upsetting the inkbottle in his haste. He had to keep writing, he couldn't stop now! Not when he had finally found the will to write!

And when the duck transformed back into a beautiful girl, she realized she was in love with the knight, and the knight was in love with her, and together they lived happily ever after. The End.

The knight's eyes had widened in shock. He did not just write that. He did not just write that. Duck? He didn't…love her. He couldn't…could he? Did he?

Meanwhile, Duck was lost in her own little fantasies. She was remembering (a little wistfully) her past human life. She remembered the times she and Fakir had been together, fighting for Mytho, sharing secrets with each other. At times, it seemed like he was a jerk, but Duck knew he wasn't. She had seen the real him before. He was kind, compassionate, and kind of cute. Wait, what? Did she actually just think that?

Her cheeks turned absolutely red. What was she doing? She just had the thought that Fakir was cute. She loved Mytho…right?

And then it hit her, the full realization of why she was so sad, why she worried about Fakir so much, why her heart ached when she wasn't near him. It wasn't Mytho she loved at all. All this time, she had loved another person she never thought she would ever have feelings for. One she had always thought a friend, but now realized that he was and had always been something more to her.

It was Fakir.

Duck looked back up at the window. Fakir was nowhere to be seen. So she decided to sneak into his room.

She hopped onto the windowsill and almost fell off as she caught sight of Fakir kneeling behind his bed, breathing heavily. His befuddled expression was one of mingled shock and denial. What was wrong with him?

"Quack?" she uttered softly. He looked absurd. Anyone could easily recognize the concern in her voice.

Fakir looked up and turned slightly pink. "Um…hi, Duck."

"Quack?" she asked questioningly, tilting her head slightly to one side. And then she saw the paper lying on the floor next to him.

"Qua-ack qua quack? Fakir, did you write a story?"

This shocked Fakir so badly he fell over. He could understand her! Somehow, it clicked. He could just barely comprehend the meaning behind her quacks. What did this mean?

He got up off the floor just in time to see Duck running towards him, eyes focused on the story he had just written. Determination and curiosity was etched in every line of her face.

No…

No…

NO…!

"DUCK, NO!" he yelled, lunging forwards to grab his story, the only one where he confessed his love to her, and the one she COULD NOT, under ANY circumstances, read. He couldn't bear it if she knew.

But it was too late.

She picked up the paper in her beak and jumped onto the highest shelf she saw so Fakir could not reach her. Then she began to read.

NO! NO, NO, NO!

His life was ruined. His dignity was gone. Once Duck read the ending, she would be disgusted beyond measure. He was even disgusted with himself for falling in love with her.

Something deep in his heart told him the last part wasn't true.

As Fakir mentally slammed his head into a non-existent door several times, he saw her eyes reach the end of the page, and to his horror, she jumped off the shelf and looked at him. He could not bring himself to meet her gaze, but he could stand it no longer. He looked into her eyes, but her expression (as far as he could tell) was not one of disgust or anger. It was one of adoration.

And suddenly, a beam of red light filled the room. The duck disappeared. In its place was a human girl.

Duck opened her eyes to find a beet red-faced Fakir standing in front of her with his eyes tightly closed. She looked down, and to her complete embarrassment she realized she was naked. She yelped and grabbed a blanket off Fakir's bed. Wrapping it around herself, she looked at her hands, not sure whether to believe if this was true or not. Then she remembered Fakir's story.

"Fakir!" cried a high-pitched girl's voice. "You can open your eyes now."
He did so, only to find her wrapped in a blanket. That was almost as bad.

"Idiot," he practically yelled. "Get some clothes on!"

She yelped again and ran towards his closet. Fakir faced the wall as she changed. When she was done, she sat back down on the bed, signaling that it was okay to look now. He opened his eyes and sat down next to her. She was wearing a shirt three sizes too big for her, even though Fakir had grown out of it a long time ago. His jeans ran six inches past her ankles. Luckily, she had enough sense to put on a belt. He sighed. Again.

"Fakir, your story! It worked!" she cried, a huge grin on her face. He remembered the story and turned as scarlet as a tomato.

"Umm…did you…did you read all…all of it?"

Duck turned almost as red as him. "Umm…yeah…kind of," she whispered apologetically.

They both sat in silence for a few seconds. To Fakir, it seemed endless. Then she threw herself at him, almost suffocating him as she squeezed him to death.

"Wha…? What are you doing?" he choked out, managing to lessen her grip on him.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I knew it, Fakir. I knew you loved me."

Fakir's red face deepened to a darker crimson, if that was possible. "I…I-" he stammered, at a complete loss for words. Duck held her finger to his lips.

"I'm so sorry you had to find out this way. I never thought you would actually read that story!" he burst out when she removed her finger. His lips tingled where she had touched them. "You must be disgusted of me."

Duck looked confused, a little crease forming between her eyebrows. Fakir realized how absolutely adorable he thought she was. He started blushing even harder, turning a shade of maroon because he had actually thought of something that sappy. Then he remembered he didn't care.

"Fakir…" she said slowly, emphasizing the word. He felt his face burn hot again.

"What," he replied, not able to meet her eyes. This was so humiliating. He didn't know if he would be able to stand being near her anymore.

"Are you actually thinking I don't love you back?"

Disbelief at what he was hearing shot through him. He finally raised his gaze from the floor to meet her stare. Her eyes were soft, but full of joy. They sparkled with happiness, and Fakir was instantly compelled to kiss her. He leaned forward and did just as he intended to a year ago, at the bottom of the lake. His lips met hers. At first, Duck was stunned, but then she closed her eyes and kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

After a brief moment, though it felt like an eternity to Fakir, and he knew Duck felt the same, he pulled away and looked at Duck again. She looked a bit stunned, but broke into a wide smile when he blushed slightly, the deep red lightening, yet there was still a pink tinge to his skin.

"I love you, moron," he whispered, smiling slightly.

"I love you too, idiot," she whispered back, smiling even more broadly. He touched her face gently, caressing her cheek. She blushed again, but they both knew the same thing. This was where they both wanted to be. This was where they belonged.

And they never left each others' side again.