[Princess Tutu] Not Quite the End
Title: Not Quite the End
Day/Theme: 28. a god's game is a mortal's suffering
Series: Princess Tutu
Character/Pairing: Drusselmeyer
Rating: Not on the fandom list, but prompt called for it!
It just felt so trite.
Anybody could write a happy ending. That’s why there were so many of the damn things. It diminished the story for it to be that easy. Who cared, if the reader or listener already knew what the end was? Happy endings were a dime a dozen. Expected. And there were few things a true storyteller hated more than that.
He knew better. He had written better. He had spun stories of such heartbreak and complexity, such true stories, that they had altered reality itself, as if the universe had recognized his storyline as true canon. He had rewritten the very destiny of his city until his neighbors, his cast, had struck back in fear and cut off his hands to stop his work. He had gone on just the same, of course, writing in his own blood, until his storyline was set in motion.
All the characters and all the twists and turns of the plot, the raven, the prince, the fallen girl, the knight, and the lowly duck, and all the loves, great and small, that burned in their hearts, all leading the way to a story that would never be forgotten. He had run out of blood and had died, but his story still went on and he still watched and waited to see how his masterpiece would play out.
This chapter was turning out different. They characters were becoming aware of their own story and were trying to break out of their roles. It would be infuriating if they’re struggles didn’t snare them in even more story threads and make for an even more complicated mess. Even without hands, he had woven quite the spider web to tangle his little players in. One strand connected to another and another and every pluck and tug causing ripple effects through the whole structure until finally they were cocooned in it, despite all their struggles.
There was the suffering prince and those he inadvertently caused to suffer for his sake. There was the stolen child, who had grown to a thieving girl. There was the knight who had left his chivalry behind to do the most good, even if it meant becoming cold and unkind. There was even the ridiculous waterfowl that had transformed into a princess. The monstrous raven, the lovelorn cat, all the different stories in all the different people, all tied to each other and spiraling inward, with a pretty little pendant at the very center.
They had managed it somehow. The princess had survived without vanishing into light. The prince had regained his heart, and with it his soul. The lost girl had found her way and true love. The knight had taken up the pen instead of the sword and beaten the Storyteller at his own tale. This time. They had managed to turn the tables and avert disaster, but the story, his story, wasn’t over yet.
Day/Theme: 28. a god's game is a mortal's suffering
Series: Princess Tutu
Character/Pairing: Drusselmeyer
Rating: Not on the fandom list, but prompt called for it!
It just felt so trite.
Anybody could write a happy ending. That’s why there were so many of the damn things. It diminished the story for it to be that easy. Who cared, if the reader or listener already knew what the end was? Happy endings were a dime a dozen. Expected. And there were few things a true storyteller hated more than that.
He knew better. He had written better. He had spun stories of such heartbreak and complexity, such true stories, that they had altered reality itself, as if the universe had recognized his storyline as true canon. He had rewritten the very destiny of his city until his neighbors, his cast, had struck back in fear and cut off his hands to stop his work. He had gone on just the same, of course, writing in his own blood, until his storyline was set in motion.
All the characters and all the twists and turns of the plot, the raven, the prince, the fallen girl, the knight, and the lowly duck, and all the loves, great and small, that burned in their hearts, all leading the way to a story that would never be forgotten. He had run out of blood and had died, but his story still went on and he still watched and waited to see how his masterpiece would play out.
This chapter was turning out different. They characters were becoming aware of their own story and were trying to break out of their roles. It would be infuriating if they’re struggles didn’t snare them in even more story threads and make for an even more complicated mess. Even without hands, he had woven quite the spider web to tangle his little players in. One strand connected to another and another and every pluck and tug causing ripple effects through the whole structure until finally they were cocooned in it, despite all their struggles.
There was the suffering prince and those he inadvertently caused to suffer for his sake. There was the stolen child, who had grown to a thieving girl. There was the knight who had left his chivalry behind to do the most good, even if it meant becoming cold and unkind. There was even the ridiculous waterfowl that had transformed into a princess. The monstrous raven, the lovelorn cat, all the different stories in all the different people, all tied to each other and spiraling inward, with a pretty little pendant at the very center.
They had managed it somehow. The princess had survived without vanishing into light. The prince had regained his heart, and with it his soul. The lost girl had found her way and true love. The knight had taken up the pen instead of the sword and beaten the Storyteller at his own tale. This time. They had managed to turn the tables and avert disaster, but the story, his story, wasn’t over yet.