Princess Tutu Fan Fiction ❯ Princess Tutu: the Diamond in the Rough ❯ Music: Bach--4th Brandenburg Concerto, 1st Movement ( Chapter 3 )

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Chapter III
Music: Fourth Brandenburg Concerto, First Movement
The next morning, Fakir awoke to the sound of running water, and the sound of quacking that was actually in a recognizable tune. The water stopped, so he thought nothing of it, and curled back up, awaiting the alarm. The quack-singing continued. Now he had to know. He put on his robe, and entered the kitchen to see a soapy duck reaching for the spigot, turning it on, and begin to rinse off. Once she had done this, she turned off the water, hopped out, kicked open a top draw, and began to dry off with a clean dish towel. “Getting ready?” asked Fakir quite amused at the sight. “Quack!” she affirmed, with a big smile, and somewhat of a thumb's up. He chuckled on just how humanized she had become. However, she then did something that made a harsh reminder of what she was. She floated herself off the counter, went out the pet door put there for her, and then proceeded to down some gravel, eat some grass, and pluck a few worms out of the ground, sucking them down like spaghetti. Because he knew her past, he then wanted to wretch and vomit. He then reminded himself why he never watched her eat breakfast! He left her to it to get ready himself. At one time, he worried about leaving her alone like this. Yet, she dispelled this when a hawk tried to make a meal out of her one day. Because of her dancing ability, and by what Fakir had taught her, she first wore it out in its vain attempt to catch her, and then she clobbered it! Word must have spread to the other raptors to leave her alone, because nothing like this had ever happened since!
When Fakir emerged, looking sharp in his school uniform, the duck was just washing down the last of breakfast, and not one, but two limousines pulled up. From the front came what looked like royal pages, and they held a pillow, which held the Swan Sword. The chauffeur from the second limo ran to the back and allowed Siegfried to emerge. All Fakir could ask was, “So, what is the occasion?”
However, Siegfried stepped forward, all businesslike, and said, “Fakir Schmidt and Tutu, kneel before me.”
They looked at each other uncertainly, and then automatically took knees. The pages with the sword came forward, and a third stood ready with parchments in hand. Siegfried took the sword, tapped each shoulder, and tapped the side of his head. Siegfried then announced, “For your unswerving service and the principality, and for the care and aid you provided me all those years, I dub thee Fakir Schmidt, high protector of the crown and principality. Arise, Sir Fakir!”
As he arose, one of the pages handed a medallion to Siegfried, who put it around the neck of Fakir, and said, “This marks your official position. Before refuse this, know that you fully deserve this, and it has been a long time in coming. You may only have been given the role of a knight for the story, but now you can really be what you always should have been. What goes around comes around, my friend.”
The page that had the parchments handed one over to Fakir, upon which was the official decree, officially notarized with the royal seal. Fakir was speechless, and could only choke out, “Thank you.”
At this, Rue emerged, and Siegfried turned his attention to the duck. He very gently did the sword work, and said, “For bravery and self-sacrifice above and beyond the call of duty—that befitting a royal princess—I hereby dub thee Princess and Dame Tutu: princess and high protector of all the waterfowl in the entire realm. Arise, your highness!”
When she did, Rue produced a pendant marked with her own royal seal, and produced a white feather ring her size, (just like what she wore as Princess Tutu,) rigged together with a small tiara. She placed it on her head, and it was then that they all saw the facial resemblance between the duck and Tutu. The duck, (Tutu,) signed, “Thank you,” and curtsied. “Wear it well,” said Siegfried, and he handed over the official decree. With that, he then said, “Now, let's go to the academy.”
They approached the moat that surrounds the academy, and prepared to pass under the old keep that now acted as the administrative offices. Fakir noiticed that the chauffeur left, who also was the royal bodyguard. He had to ask, “Where did your bodyguard go?”
“You're here!” he said, “Thus, there is no need for me to fear.”
Fakir was not sure about this, but let it go for the time being. Meanwhile, all the students saw the four enter, and began to buzz. They all knew the three, but, because of the nature of the old curse, no one remembered who Duck had been, and things seemed in more of a realistic state. However, some things did not change. When Pique and Lillie saw Tutu, they both gushed, and started paying attention to her. “What a cute duck!” said Pique, “Is that your pet?”
Tutu really did not like being referred to as a “pet” and scowled at her. “Wow,” she said, “She sure has a nasty disposition.”
“She just probably wants to be free,” said Lillie, “The poor thing: a wild duck, held in captivity, looking for love. It's so adorable, I just can't stand it!”
Fakir began to be a bit cross, and said, “Actually, ladies, she is quite a free duck, and free to do as she pleases, and she doesn't like glad handlers!”
His scowl backed the up a step and they were sorry they had approached. “Gee,” said Pique, “Still the same grumpy Fakir, isn't he?”
Siegfried spoke up and said, “Its okay, ladies, she just needs to get to know you. Besides, you shall be seeing more of her than you realize.”
They both shrugged their shoulders, and moved on. Tutu, on the other hand, had to chuckle a bit. “Get to know them?” she thought, “I know them more than they realize. That's going to be fun!”
They finally reached the building marked “Der Tansenhalle,” and prepared for class. Everyone was quite surprised to see Fakir and the prince enter with the duck. The instructress spotted this, (one Gretchen Von Trapp,) and immediately protested, “Herr Fakir, the duck will have to wait outside!”
Mien Frau,” said the prince, “The duck must stay. She is very valuable to us.”
“Your highness, please forgive my forwardness,” she said, “but you understand about obeying rules, being a prince, and you know that I must enforce them.”
“Actually,” said Rue, “She'll make a great mascot. She is quite intelligent. I don't think there are any rules against mascots, are there?”
“Well, true, Frauline,” she said, “but this is highly irregular!”
“Let's just show you what the duck had got!” said Fakir. With that, he whispered something in the ear, set her down, and found a spot along the kickboard, using the outcropping as a balance beam. Fakir then went and whispered something in the ear of the piano player, he began to play a Bach minuet form one of the Brandenburg Concertos, and then Tutu began to shock the room. She began to perform the developee, and then progress into the basic moves and dance steps. She finished in a deep curtsey, and then room sat there as if they were a school of codfish—mouths agape. Frau Von Trapp was the most shocked, considering that Tutu actually did better than most of her intermediate students! To break the tension, Fakir said, “Not only this, but, she will also learn and retain anything you teach her. She'll make a model student!”
“What's her name?” asked Frau Von Trapp.
“Princess Tutu,” said Siegfried, “top waterfowl in the realm, and that is not a joke.”
At that, she waked up to her and knelt down, saying, “Top waterfowl, eh? You have certainly shown it, your highness. Welcome to our class!”
With that, she extended her hand, and Tutu extended a wing, as they shook limbs. Then Von Trapp stood up and said, “However, because you are now a part of this class, I will expect you to perform and follow instructions like anyone else, and I shall be just as strict on you as I would any other student. Do you understand?”
Tutu smiled and bowed. Von Trapp then said, “Good! Now, your highness, please take your place with the others.”
Once she had, she then said, “Now, let us begin the class!”
Frau Von Trapp was indeed strict as any good dance instructor would be, however, in her teaching, she was very quick to praise, and she always told them to see the best in themselves. When it came time for the classroom phase, she full expected to see the duck sit idly by. Her jaw nearly hit the floor when she saw her grip a pen between her wings and proceed to write, occasionally employing her beak to steady the pen. She felt like taking out her eyes, rubbing them on her shirt, and putting them back, just to be sure that she was seeing things right. Just how much more was she going to see today? Her writing was a bit childlike, but it was legible. By the end of all, she actually scrawled “Princess Tutu” into her attendance and grade book, figuring, “Well, if she's going to contribute, I might as well grade her!”
The duck actually danced better than most humans she knew!
At lunch, everyone sat around the fountain eating, and Tutu plopped into it for a quick swim. Of course, this caught the attention of all those around, and they began throwing popcorn, chips, and bread crusts to her, all of which she happily gobbled down. However, it did not take long for Rue, Fakir, and Siegfried to figure out what was going on. Soon, she was the center of attention. After it was over, Tutu hopped out, shook herself off, just as Fakir came forward. “You little mooch!” he said, “You knew that would happen!”
Tutu just pumped her eyebrows up and down and smirked. Fakir then said, “Oh well, I guess this bag of your favorite mustard sardines is going to have to go to waste,” and he held them out. Yet, before he pulled it back, Tutu was already airborne, and snatched the bag from his hand as she flew away. “Come back here, you little…” shouted Fakir, but Rue told him, “Oh, leave her alone! She's just playing with you. Besides, all that dancing must have worked up an apatite. Remember: she's a duck, and she's going to expend more energy, and faster than us.”
“I just don't like it when she tries to take advantage of both worlds,” he grumbled.
“And if you had been through what she went through,” said Siegfried, “would not you wan to try to create as many joyous moments as you could for yourself?”
“Does she have to do this?” asked Fakir?
“She doesn't do it all the time,” she answered, “Let it go!”
They caught up to her, just as she was sucking down the last sardine. She sat there, with a contented look on her face, and she let out a very un-princess-like belch. “Come on, you feather covered pig,” said Fakir, “And if you gained five pounds, I would have no sympathy for you!”
The note-taking pattern continued in the academic classes, although her heavy lunch began to weigh down on her, and she had to fight off sleep. Fakir only looked up at her, and said, quite unsympathetically, “Serves you right!”
Class was over for the day, and the four began to head off campus, with Tutu constantly napping in Fakir's arms. Indeed, it had been a long day for her. However, they had not gotten far, when they passed by the building marked “Die Musikhalle,” and began to hear some of the sweetest singing they had ever heard. It was so good; it even awoke Tutu and caught her attention. They just had to see who this was. They entered the main music room and saw a brown-haired young man in the “stocky-but-not-fat” department, hair parted to the side, with handsome looks, but a Roman nose. He stood next to the piano as his instructor played. He was singing “Che Geldia Manina” from the opera “La Bohemme” in a rich tenor that actually sounded like it had a bass tambour. However, he could lilt at times, enough to make a stone weep! There was so much color to his voice; it surprised everyone from the twists and turns that his voice took. When they had finished, applause came form the back. The two were unaware that they had an audience, and immediately began to apologize and render proper homage when they realized who it was. Siegfried just smiled and waived it off, and said, “That was phenomenal!”
The instructor excused himself, and said to the young man to make sure to lock up when he and his friends were done. He then started to speak, but his German wasn't the best. He finally said, frustrated, and in English, “Oh, my German is terrible! I'm sorry. I'm butchering it, aren't I?”
“Your American?” said Fakir, in English.
“People say that in such a surprised tone,” the young man responded, “people assume that I am some kind of international man of mystery.”
He then put his hand on his cheek, as if he was telling a secret, and whispered, “I've been working on it like mad!”
All of them laughed at his candor, and Rue asked, “What is your name?”
“I am so glad you all speak English!” he responded, “I am Giuseppe Caruso.”
“Are you related to the Great Caruso?” asked Siegfried.
“Well, not directly,” he answered, “I think he's in there somewhere, at least that's what I am told.”
“You sound disappointed in that,” responded Fakir.
“Its not so much that,” said Caruso, “Its just that, when I showed an aptitude for voice at an early age, suddenly there was this great expectation from everyone to do the `uphold the family name,' kind of thing. Suddenly, everyone started pushing me towards singing. Now, don't get me wrong, I love to sing. It's just that, I'm always been pushed towards opera, and yet, I like all kinds of singing. I' so sick of trying to live up to everyone's expectations. There is no way I could surpass `The Voice,' and I do not intend to do so. Too many have wrecked their careers doing so.”
He caught himself, and said, “I'm sorry: I'm venting on you.”
“Its okay,” said Rue, “Sometimes, you have to get it off your chest.”
Tutu wanted to tell him that she knew what he felt, but she was not sure he would understand. Thus, she just flew over to him, landed in his arms, and hugged him. “Well,” he said, “It looks like someone has a sympathetic ear!”
“Actually,” said Siegfried, “It's empathetic.”
“No way!” he said, surprised, “You? You've got it made in the shade!”
She looked at him quizzically, and he said, “You're a bird. No one expects anything form you. You can do what you want, when you want. You're completely free.”
He set her down on the piano bench, and said, “If I had to be a bird, I think I would be a parrot.”
“Quack?” she asked.
“Sure! I'd still be able to sing, talk to people, and yet be totally free,” he said.
He thought for a moment, and then began to sing “Free as a Bird,” by the Beatles. It was not opera, but it was still quite good, sang with the same passion.
As he finished, a familiar sight walked in. She rendered proper homage to the crown, and that caught Caruso's attention. “And how's my little butterfly?” he said, smiling broadly. She practically danced her way to him, and she said, `Very well, my songbird.”
It was Freya; know by many as the Flower Girl. Tutu remembered her well, considering how her life had been endangered but just a year before, and how she'd been able to rescue her. She was so happy to see her better than ever, and now with a sweetheart. She waddled up and embraced her leg. This gave Freya a slight start, but then she smiled at the bright eyes and smile of the duck, and she said, “Quite the affectionate one, aren't we?”
She had no memory of the past, which, though slightly disappointed, still was a good thing. She had no painful memories to bear. “I see you have an audience for your practice,” she said.
“Practice?” asked Siegfried.
“Oh, yes,” said Caruso, “My band is getting some sets together for the first school dance and social.”
“What do you play?” asked Rue.
“Because of the eclectic crowd,” said Caruso, “We have to play a variety. We do contemporary pop, modern pop, rock, R&B, jazz. By the way, just call me Joe—it saves time.”
At this point, the band showed up: a standard rhythm section, a few horns and strings, and keys. Everyone acknowledged Siegfried, and they took their places. One then said, “Let's start with our rock set!”
Joe, (Caruso,) strapped on an electric guitar, and they began to play “Circle Sky.” Tutu quickly retreated to the audience from the din. He followed up, saying to the duck, “Here's one for you!” and jumped into “Sweet Young Thing!” They continued their set with some Billy Joel, Simon & Garfunkel, Sinatra, Dean Martin, and so forth. Joe then said, “Here's one for you, honey,” and ripped into “I'm a Believer.” By the time it was done, it was about 5 o'clock, and he said, “Okay, we'll continue tomorrow, we gotta eat, and get our homework done.”
They all said their good-byes, and then realized that their audience hadn't left. Joe then said, “Well, I hoped you liked it! Thank you for staying.”
He began to pack his guitar, and said, as a joke, “We don't do birthdays, but we are available for weddings and funerals!”
It then surprised all when Siegfried then said, “Great! Ours is on June 20th, next summer, so you can play the reception!”
A stunned silence filled the room. He followed up with, “Really, you bunch are great! I'd love to have you.”
“Hmm, what will some say about what we play?” asked Joe, a bit confused.
Siegfried smiled, and said, knowingly, “I'm the crowned head—what are they going to say?”
“Well, it looks like we got a gig, fellas!” said Joe, “Rank doth have its privileges!” and they all cheered. They all then took their leaves, leaving the four, Joe and Freya. Freya then said, “Oh I should have mentioned, they are all in the ballet school with me! I should have recognized Tutu.”
“What about her?” asked Joe.
“The duck can dance!” she said, “She's the class mascot!”
He looked at her, and said, “And she is quite the charmer at that!”
“I would like to speak to you some more,” said Siegfried, “Can you meet us tomorrow at lunch?”
“Sure,” he said, “I'll see you there.”
“And bring your guitar;” added Rue, “It could be more fun that way!”
“Not a problem,” said Joe, and they all had made a new friend that day.
However, none of this was unnoticed. Drosselmyer had seen the whole thing, and saw Caruso as a possible wrinkle in the plot that would aid in his plot. He just had to wait to see what Fakir writes, and he would move from there.