[rd][fic][Princess Tutu] Cygnus 3/4
*points up* This is going to have one more piece at least. My apologies. Not that I think anyone minds the prospect of getting more PT fic out of me.
Cygnus
by K. Stonham
prereleased 2nd January 2007
With a flutter of white wings, they were gone, the royal swans with their pure feathers, black marks around their eyes, and long, arching necks. The beautiful swans, with small egg-shaped crowns perched atop their shapely heads, had taken flight into the pale winter sky and disappeared in moments. Hakuchou sat on the ground, her eyes fixed onto that sky, her graceless legs splayed askew. She remained that way until her father pounded down the path from the school to their cottage, coming around a bend and drawing to a halt, seeing his youngest child sitting there on the path, shocked.
His mouth was slightly open as he stepped toward her, but he stopped a few feet away and knelt on the ground, picking up the gleaming pieces of a shattered gold pendant. He closed his hand around them, black velvet ribbon dangling toward the ground. "Ahiru," he breathed, like he'd already known. His sharp green eyes glanced up toward his daughter. "Hakuchou," he said quietly. She continued to stare, gaping, at the empty sky.
Sighing, Fakir tucked the shards of the necklace into his pocket and moved forward. He picked up his daughter in his stong arms, ignoring her school things where they lay beside the path. She would no longer need them. Turning, he set off neither for the academy nor for the cottage, but instead for the castle.
*
Rue was not a witch.
She did, however, know enough of the craft to have the maids draw a hot bath for her chilled niece and settle the shocked girl into the basin, then bid them all to leave. She would tend to Hakuchou herself.
Hakuchou's coppery hair, so like her mother's, darkened to a rich hue where it floated free and long in the water. Taking a breath, Rue took up the first of the three frogs she had prepared. "Reflect her mind," she breathed, settling the frog on the girl's forehead. "And her voice," she told the second, placing the cold, slimy creature on Hakuchou's lips. "And her heart," she bade the third, placing it above the still-beating organ.
It took a moment for the spell to take effect, but when it did, Hakuchou coughed once and shuddered, and three poppies, formerly the frogs, fell to float upon the steaming surface of the water.
Rue smiled.
Hakuchou blinked, coming back to herself. "Aunt Rue?" she asked, looking around.
"Yes, my dear," Rue replied, taking a seat by the tub's side. She took a comb from the table and began to detangle the wet strands the way she so often had for Hakuchou's mother. The way Ahiru had so often done for her.
"Mama-- my brothers-- my sister--" Hakuchou stammered.
"I know," Rue said simply. Hakuchou was shocked into silence. "I've known for a long, long time," Rue added. "I thought they should tell you, but Ahiru and Fakir chose not to."
"Told us... what?" Hakuchou asked confusedly.
Rue smiled at her brother's daughter. "You've never wondered why you and your siblings, as well as my children, can understand what birds say?" Hakuchou slowly shook her head. Rue held up her right hand in response, where a ruby ring on a black band rested. "This is the ring of the Queen of Ravens," she said quietly. "And as for your mother... Ahiru is the Princess of Birds."
Hakuchou's eyes were wide. "Mama is?" she asked.
*
"Your family always brings us trouble," Mytho observed to Fakir.
Fakir turned his head from where he was leaning against the wall, looking out the large picture window. Ahiru and their children were out there somewhere. He could feel the shape of the wind beneath their wings, if he tried. "Arthur doesn't," he observed. His nearest cousin was a brilliant technical master of the piano, but didn't have the creative spark that Fakir possessed and that he and Rue watched carefully for in all of their children.
"True." Mytho moved to the other side of the window, matching Fakir's position. "Will they be all right?" he asked quietly. "If the storyteller means harm to them...."
"She doesn't," Fakir replied quickly. "At least, not intentionally. She wants Hakuchou to have a quest."
"You can't interfere?" Mytho asked.
Fakir shook his head, looking away at the sky again. "No," he replied. "I've known this was coming for a long time." Mytho just continued to look at him, until the door to the study opened to admit two people.
Fakir straightened reflexively as his youngest child entered, followed more sedately by his sister. "Papa!" Hakuchou beelined for him, and he caught her in an embrace.
Looking over her head, he raised an eyebrow at his sister. "Poppies," she replied simply, going to her lord's side. Fakir breathed a sigh of relief--not that he'd had any doubts--and looked down at his child.
"Papa, what happened to Mama and everyone?" she asked urgently. "Was it... was it a witch's spell?" she asked earnestly, and Fakir caught Rue's wince and the way Mytho calmed her with a gentle touch of his hand.
"No, not a witch," Fakir told his daughter. "Someone more dangerous." He drew her to the window seat and sat down beside her. "There are some things Ahiru and I should have told you all years ago," he began quietly. The tale took a long time to tell, peppered as it was with Hakuchou's frequent questions, but there was no disbelief in his child's eyes, and by the time he was done, there was only one question left to her.
"Why not me?" she finally asked.
It was with a smile that Fakir took her hand. "Because you're not a swan," he told his daughter. "Just like your mother was, you're a duckling."
*
The moon was high that night when Hakuchou snuck out of her room in the castle. She held her shoes in one hand as she snuck quietly down to the kitchen, where she wrapped up bread and cheese in a large handkerchief. She eased doors quietly open before her and closed them silently behind her until she'd made her way to the garden door on the outside of the castle, where the wooden door led to the forest beyond.
"Hakuchou!" She froze as the loud whisper of her name. Rabe, her favorite cousin, melted from the shadows by the wall. "Where are you going?" he asked. "My father would give you a horse and an escort."
She looked at handsome Rabe, who had half the girls in their class swooning over him because he was so handsome and the prince, and the other half swooning over him because he was good and kind and smart and a wonderful dancer. Rabe, who had been her closest friend since they were infants together. They'd had so much fun together, and gotten into so much trouble, and he'd always looked out for her. But this was one thing she had to do for herself. "I'm going to find my mother and brothers and sister," she told him. She sat down practically on a bench and began to put her shoes on. "If anyone can find them, it's me."
"Any of us can do that," he argued. "Let me, or my brother."
"Because you're boys?" she asked, yanking the laces of her left shoe tight and tying them into a sturdy knot. "Don't be stupid. I can skin my knee just as well as you can."
"This is not skinning knees!" he whispered harshly back. "This is dangerous!"
Hakuchou stopped and looked at him. "You were eavesdropping, weren't you?" she asked incredulously.
"A little bird told me," he said defensively.
"Uh-huh," she replied, unimpressed, and knotted the lace of her other shoe. "Anyway, I'm going. I have to go."
"No you don't," he insisted. "Let me go instead."
"Rabe," she said, standing and brushing off the front of her school uniform, tying the strings of her cloak closed about her throat, and picking up her packet of food, "this is my mother. You can't stop me." She smiled at him, and opened the green door to the forest.
"But--" he protested, looking at her, all dark hair and dark clothes in the shadows. Only his face shone pale, like the moon in the sky above.
"Trust me," she said, feeling a confidence that surely had to come from her father's storytelling blood, and brushed a kiss against his cheek. "It'll be all right."
And she left him there behind her, standing in the garden in the moonlight, a hand pressed against his cheek, staring after her as the garden door slowly swung closed and Hakuchou disappeared into the forest.
*
"Will she be all right?" Rue asked softly, the three of them watching the tableau from a window above.
"That's up to her," Fakir replied, watching his daughter's red-cloaked figure disappear into the green forest. "I think probably."
"Oh dear," Mytho said prosaically, looking down at the stunned figure of his younger son, "now he's starting to have thoughts about girls, and that one in particular."
"I shouldn't think they'll marry," Rue said thoughtfully, looking down at her boy. "The blood's too close."
"No," Fakir agreed. "He'll think he's in love with her for a little while, but she's too much of a sister to him, and he has too many adventures as a knight to fulfill first."
"Writing out their future in advance?" Mytho asked with one raised eyebrow.
Fakir shook his head. "Only feeling the threads," he replied. "As Ahiru says, never count your eggs until they're hatched."
The three friends shared a soft laugh. "I hope she's all right," Ruse said quietly.
Fakir nodded, his eyes distant as his mind's eyes was far away with his wife, where she and eight of their offspring bedded down for the night on a lake under an unfamiliar sky. "She is."
Cygnus
by K. Stonham
prereleased 2nd January 2007
With a flutter of white wings, they were gone, the royal swans with their pure feathers, black marks around their eyes, and long, arching necks. The beautiful swans, with small egg-shaped crowns perched atop their shapely heads, had taken flight into the pale winter sky and disappeared in moments. Hakuchou sat on the ground, her eyes fixed onto that sky, her graceless legs splayed askew. She remained that way until her father pounded down the path from the school to their cottage, coming around a bend and drawing to a halt, seeing his youngest child sitting there on the path, shocked.
His mouth was slightly open as he stepped toward her, but he stopped a few feet away and knelt on the ground, picking up the gleaming pieces of a shattered gold pendant. He closed his hand around them, black velvet ribbon dangling toward the ground. "Ahiru," he breathed, like he'd already known. His sharp green eyes glanced up toward his daughter. "Hakuchou," he said quietly. She continued to stare, gaping, at the empty sky.
Sighing, Fakir tucked the shards of the necklace into his pocket and moved forward. He picked up his daughter in his stong arms, ignoring her school things where they lay beside the path. She would no longer need them. Turning, he set off neither for the academy nor for the cottage, but instead for the castle.
*
Rue was not a witch.
She did, however, know enough of the craft to have the maids draw a hot bath for her chilled niece and settle the shocked girl into the basin, then bid them all to leave. She would tend to Hakuchou herself.
Hakuchou's coppery hair, so like her mother's, darkened to a rich hue where it floated free and long in the water. Taking a breath, Rue took up the first of the three frogs she had prepared. "Reflect her mind," she breathed, settling the frog on the girl's forehead. "And her voice," she told the second, placing the cold, slimy creature on Hakuchou's lips. "And her heart," she bade the third, placing it above the still-beating organ.
It took a moment for the spell to take effect, but when it did, Hakuchou coughed once and shuddered, and three poppies, formerly the frogs, fell to float upon the steaming surface of the water.
Rue smiled.
Hakuchou blinked, coming back to herself. "Aunt Rue?" she asked, looking around.
"Yes, my dear," Rue replied, taking a seat by the tub's side. She took a comb from the table and began to detangle the wet strands the way she so often had for Hakuchou's mother. The way Ahiru had so often done for her.
"Mama-- my brothers-- my sister--" Hakuchou stammered.
"I know," Rue said simply. Hakuchou was shocked into silence. "I've known for a long, long time," Rue added. "I thought they should tell you, but Ahiru and Fakir chose not to."
"Told us... what?" Hakuchou asked confusedly.
Rue smiled at her brother's daughter. "You've never wondered why you and your siblings, as well as my children, can understand what birds say?" Hakuchou slowly shook her head. Rue held up her right hand in response, where a ruby ring on a black band rested. "This is the ring of the Queen of Ravens," she said quietly. "And as for your mother... Ahiru is the Princess of Birds."
Hakuchou's eyes were wide. "Mama is?" she asked.
*
"Your family always brings us trouble," Mytho observed to Fakir.
Fakir turned his head from where he was leaning against the wall, looking out the large picture window. Ahiru and their children were out there somewhere. He could feel the shape of the wind beneath their wings, if he tried. "Arthur doesn't," he observed. His nearest cousin was a brilliant technical master of the piano, but didn't have the creative spark that Fakir possessed and that he and Rue watched carefully for in all of their children.
"True." Mytho moved to the other side of the window, matching Fakir's position. "Will they be all right?" he asked quietly. "If the storyteller means harm to them...."
"She doesn't," Fakir replied quickly. "At least, not intentionally. She wants Hakuchou to have a quest."
"You can't interfere?" Mytho asked.
Fakir shook his head, looking away at the sky again. "No," he replied. "I've known this was coming for a long time." Mytho just continued to look at him, until the door to the study opened to admit two people.
Fakir straightened reflexively as his youngest child entered, followed more sedately by his sister. "Papa!" Hakuchou beelined for him, and he caught her in an embrace.
Looking over her head, he raised an eyebrow at his sister. "Poppies," she replied simply, going to her lord's side. Fakir breathed a sigh of relief--not that he'd had any doubts--and looked down at his child.
"Papa, what happened to Mama and everyone?" she asked urgently. "Was it... was it a witch's spell?" she asked earnestly, and Fakir caught Rue's wince and the way Mytho calmed her with a gentle touch of his hand.
"No, not a witch," Fakir told his daughter. "Someone more dangerous." He drew her to the window seat and sat down beside her. "There are some things Ahiru and I should have told you all years ago," he began quietly. The tale took a long time to tell, peppered as it was with Hakuchou's frequent questions, but there was no disbelief in his child's eyes, and by the time he was done, there was only one question left to her.
"Why not me?" she finally asked.
It was with a smile that Fakir took her hand. "Because you're not a swan," he told his daughter. "Just like your mother was, you're a duckling."
*
The moon was high that night when Hakuchou snuck out of her room in the castle. She held her shoes in one hand as she snuck quietly down to the kitchen, where she wrapped up bread and cheese in a large handkerchief. She eased doors quietly open before her and closed them silently behind her until she'd made her way to the garden door on the outside of the castle, where the wooden door led to the forest beyond.
"Hakuchou!" She froze as the loud whisper of her name. Rabe, her favorite cousin, melted from the shadows by the wall. "Where are you going?" he asked. "My father would give you a horse and an escort."
She looked at handsome Rabe, who had half the girls in their class swooning over him because he was so handsome and the prince, and the other half swooning over him because he was good and kind and smart and a wonderful dancer. Rabe, who had been her closest friend since they were infants together. They'd had so much fun together, and gotten into so much trouble, and he'd always looked out for her. But this was one thing she had to do for herself. "I'm going to find my mother and brothers and sister," she told him. She sat down practically on a bench and began to put her shoes on. "If anyone can find them, it's me."
"Any of us can do that," he argued. "Let me, or my brother."
"Because you're boys?" she asked, yanking the laces of her left shoe tight and tying them into a sturdy knot. "Don't be stupid. I can skin my knee just as well as you can."
"This is not skinning knees!" he whispered harshly back. "This is dangerous!"
Hakuchou stopped and looked at him. "You were eavesdropping, weren't you?" she asked incredulously.
"A little bird told me," he said defensively.
"Uh-huh," she replied, unimpressed, and knotted the lace of her other shoe. "Anyway, I'm going. I have to go."
"No you don't," he insisted. "Let me go instead."
"Rabe," she said, standing and brushing off the front of her school uniform, tying the strings of her cloak closed about her throat, and picking up her packet of food, "this is my mother. You can't stop me." She smiled at him, and opened the green door to the forest.
"But--" he protested, looking at her, all dark hair and dark clothes in the shadows. Only his face shone pale, like the moon in the sky above.
"Trust me," she said, feeling a confidence that surely had to come from her father's storytelling blood, and brushed a kiss against his cheek. "It'll be all right."
And she left him there behind her, standing in the garden in the moonlight, a hand pressed against his cheek, staring after her as the garden door slowly swung closed and Hakuchou disappeared into the forest.
*
"Will she be all right?" Rue asked softly, the three of them watching the tableau from a window above.
"That's up to her," Fakir replied, watching his daughter's red-cloaked figure disappear into the green forest. "I think probably."
"Oh dear," Mytho said prosaically, looking down at the stunned figure of his younger son, "now he's starting to have thoughts about girls, and that one in particular."
"I shouldn't think they'll marry," Rue said thoughtfully, looking down at her boy. "The blood's too close."
"No," Fakir agreed. "He'll think he's in love with her for a little while, but she's too much of a sister to him, and he has too many adventures as a knight to fulfill first."
"Writing out their future in advance?" Mytho asked with one raised eyebrow.
Fakir shook his head. "Only feeling the threads," he replied. "As Ahiru says, never count your eggs until they're hatched."
The three friends shared a soft laugh. "I hope she's all right," Ruse said quietly.
Fakir nodded, his eyes distant as his mind's eyes was far away with his wife, where she and eight of their offspring bedded down for the night on a lake under an unfamiliar sky. "She is."