[November 6th] [Princess Tutu] The Choice

[insaneladybug.livejournal.com]

Title: The Choice
Day/Theme: November 6th - This night thy soul may be required of thee
Series: Princess Tutu
Character/Pairing: Fakir, Ahiru, Autor
Rating: T/PG-13


Fakir’s heart thumped furiously in his chest and echoed in his ears. In this sick obstacle course, there was little else he could hear. Anything he paid attention to went back to the same idea in the end—death. Even his heartbeat reminded him all too well of what he was fighting to prevent—and of what would happen if he failed.

The crystal blocks on either side of him were swiftly melting. He was splashing through their water as he neared the end of the stone trail and the dip into the round valley below, the place he had been seeking and fearing along this entire path. The lava was bubbling behind the cubes, coming closer every moment. Once it filled the valley and reached the ice platforms’ bases in the center, everything would be over. It was already closing in from all directions. There was no way Fakir could get to the platforms in time.

“Fakir!”

He looked towards the one on the left. Ahiru was kneeling, clutching the edge of the stand. She was too injured from the torture to stand up straight. Her long hair was coming out of its braid and hanging around her.

“Fakir, you can only pick one of us,” she said.

He went sheet-white. “What?!”

“That’s what all of this is about!” Ahiru cried. “The sorcerer wants to make you suffer by forcing you to only save one of us. The other one will . . . will . . .” She trailed off, tears filling her eyes.

“Fakir, you have to pick Autor,” she said, changing the subject. “Please! You can’t let him die!”

Fakir’s raw fingers clenched into a fist. “I can’t let you die, either!” he snapped.

He was still reeling. They all knew their enemy was sheer evil, but this? Even he had not expected something so outrageously cruel. He had been led to believe that if he cleared the obstacle course, the sorcerer would set both Ahiru and Autor free. He had imagined that perhaps the wretch would say he had changed his mind and let all three of them die. But to have Fakir live, and to choose one of his friends to live while the other would die?

What could he do to fight this, with the lava almost upon them? He did not even have his sword. It had been lost a ways back. And all powers other than the sorcerer’s were blocked. He could not write a Story to save his friends, nor could Ahiru become Princess Tutu and craft thick vines for them to travel on.

He looked to the platform on the right. Autor was not much better off. His cravat was loose and his hair wild. With one shaking hand he pushed up his glasses.

“Fakir, don’t worry about me,” he said. “Save Ahiru. Do you think you could live with yourself if you let her die?”

Fakir swore. “Do you think you’re not important to me, too?!” he retorted.

“Remember, Fakir—you have only until the lava reaches them to choose.” The sorcerer’s cruel voice echoed throughout the chamber from the stone balcony on which he was standing. “Then I will teleport one of them away for you.”

“And let the other one die.” Fakir glared up at him, unable to hide the hatred in his eyes and his voice. “You know you easily have more than enough power to save them both.”

“You must make the choice. If you do nothing, the lava will consume both bases and your friends will fall into the boiling mass. From there it will only be a matter of moments before they’re vaporized.”

“And when you’re so evil to do this in the first place, how can I even trust you’d save one of them?!” Fakir cried. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d let them both die and laugh in my face because I believed you!”

“Will you just stand by and do nothing, consoling yourself with those thoughts?” The sorcerer sneered at him with a knowing look.

Fakir grunted. Of course, he could not do that, either. But that left him with this horrible, soul-shredding decision that no one should ever have to make.

Ahiru was the girl he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. She was so innocent and pure, in spite of her bursts of immaturity. How could he possibly sentence her to death?

Autor was his close friend, his cousin. He had already suffered death once before. Could Fakir condemn him to that fate again?

Neither of them wanted to die. Even from here, he could feel their fear and terror. But each was willing to be the one sacrificed if that would save the other.

Fakir fell to his knees, an almost inhuman scream tearing from his lips as he dug his fingers into his hair. He was not willing to, in effect, kill either of them. But did that mean he had to stand by and do nothing other than watch them both die?

“You’re giving up?” the sorcerer sneered. “If you can’t decide, then I will do it for you.” Fakir looked up with a start. “I will eliminate them both.” He raised his right hand as it began to glow with dark magic.

“Fakir!” both Ahiru and Autor cried.

“No!” Fakir yelled at the same moment.

He got to his feet, trembling violently. He had been desperately praying for help, but no ideas were coming to him. Maybe that meant there was no other way out. He had to save one or none at all. And both ideas were abhorrent to him. He clenched a fist, ignoring the drops of blood that soon appeared and trickled down his hand.

Now Ahiru could no longer hold back the tears. “Fakir, please!” she said. “There’s nothing we can do. Save Autor. Please save Autor!”

“I’ve already had my second chance, Fakir,” Autor said. “Let Ahiru have hers now. The two of you can still make a life for yourselves together. I’ll be alright. I’ll be with my parents.”

Fakir looked back and forth between the platforms. There was such a large gap between them, and another separating him from both of them. And he had to choose to rescue only one of his loved ones and have him or her teleported away from certain death.

His eyes widened. Teleported. . . .

What would happen if, perchance, the one he did not choose was able to clear the gap between the platforms and grab on to the other right at the moment of transport? Wouldn’t that cause them both to be teleported and saved?

Was there any way it was possible? Could either Ahiru or Autor really jump that far, especially when they were both injured? And even if he decided to attempt such a crazy idea, how could he communicate to both of them what the plan was without the sorcerer knowing?

“Five seconds,” the dark wizard informed him.

Fakir’s eyes narrowed. “Fine,” he snapped. He drew a shaking breath. He could not have any doubts about this. He had to press forward with it. And he had to pray it would work. Because if it did not. . . .

“I choose Autor.”

Ahiru gasped in stunned amazement and relief. Autor’s eyes widened in shock, then narrowed in anger.

“Fakir, what are you doing?” he demanded. “How can you save me and let Ahiru die?!” He struggled to stand, shuddering involuntarily from the pain of his wounds.

The sorcerer was also surprised. “Is this really your final decision?” he said. “You would save your cousin over your love?” He sneered. “So blood is thicker than water, then.” He raised a hand. “I will bring him to you. Then you can both watch the girl perish!”

The lava was already lapping against the bottoms of the platforms’ support beams. The ice was swiftly melting, causing both platforms to tip and sway.

Ahiru got to her feet as well. “Thank you, Fakir,” she said. Her smile was shaky, but brave and genuine. “I couldn’t stand it if Autor died. I’ll be okay. Really, I will.”

Fakir gritted his teeth. A white aura was starting to surround Autor now; he would be taken away in seconds.

“Fakir, stop this!” Autor cried. “Change your mind and save Ahiru.”

“I’m doing what Ahiru wants,” Fakir answered.

Then, without warning, he yelled. “Ahiru, jump! Jump to Autor, right now!”

Ahiru’s eyes widened. “Huh?!”

Autor stared. Suddenly the plan became clear to him. “Yes!” he exclaimed, turning to face the bewildered girl. “I’ll catch you. Jump, Ahiru!” He held out his arms.

The sorcerer gaped. “What is this?!” he demanded. “You can’t hijack the teleportation. And she’s injured. She’ll never be able to jump that far or in time.”

“If she does, she’ll be saved too,” Fakir said. “Isn’t that right?”

The wizard glared at him. “Yes,” he admitted grudgingly. He could not stop a teleportation already in progress. If Ahiru could reach Autor, that would turn this heartless plan on its head.

Ahiru was gathering her courage and strength. There was no time to think; she just had to move. She would give a soaring jeté that Neko-Sensei would have been amazed by. She looked ahead to Autor as she took a flying leap off the edge of the platform. She only had one chance for this. She was no longer a bird; she could not fly. If she fell short, she would plunge into the lava. Her heart raced in her ears.

It was when she was almost to Autor’s platform that she knew she had not quite made it. Her eyes widened in horror and fear as she began to descend. “Autor!” she wailed, clawing above her head in vain desperation for the ledge. “Fakir!” She was sure she could hear two alarmed gasps.

Then something stopped her fall, without her doing anything. She looked up with a start. Autor had fallen to the floor of the platform, hanging half-over the edge to save her. He was clutching her wrists with all the strength he had left. She was not heavy, but Autor was injured too, and the strain showed on his face.

In the next moment they were both gone. Fakir stared at the empty space, his heart pounding. Would they reappear near him on the stone, safe and sound? Or had he made a horrible gamble and they would both die because the sorcerer had lied?

Then they were there in a flash of light, collapsing to their knees on the hard ground. Ahiru was frozen, unable to process what was happening. Autor pulled her close to him, trembling.

“We’re safe,” he said. “We made it, Ahiru. We’re alive!”

And Ahiru snapped to awareness, exclaiming in joy as she hugged Autor, laughing and crying in celebration.

Fakir ran to them and dropped to his knees. They were both safe, as Autor had said. They were alive. He had not had to sacrifice either of them.

Ahiru looked up, reaching to Fakir and drawing him into the hug with a broad smile. “It’s because of you, Fakir!” she said. “You figured out how to save both of us. Thank you!”

A smile crept over Fakir’s features as he put an arm around Ahiru’s shoulders. “It was a long shot,” he said. “You did all the work.”

Ahiru turned to Autor. “And you caught me, Autor,” she proclaimed. “Thank you too!” She shuddered. “I couldn’t jump far enough.”

“You did quite well, really,” Autor said. “If you’d been any further away, I couldn’t have grabbed hold of you.”

He looked to Fakir. “I was furious with you,” he said. “But I should have known you had something in mind. You could never let Ahiru go that easily.”

“Idiot,” Fakir muttered. “I couldn’t let you go easily, either.” He hesitated a moment, then laid a hand on Autor’s shoulder too. “Don’t you remember what Ahiru said before? We’re all a family.”

Autor looked to Fakir’s hand, then at his earnest face, in surprise. Slowly he smiled. “Yes,” he said. “I remember.”

Fakir’s grip tightened. “And don’t forget it,” he said.

On the balcony, the sorcerer’s face twisted in disgust and rage. They had outsmarted him. The vacant platforms were sinking into the lava now, the last of the ice melting away.

“Don’t think this is the end,” he proclaimed, his voice dark. “You’ve come to the end of this obstacle course and I am forced to let you go. But I will see you all suffering yet.”

“You’ve caused enough suffering tonight,” Fakir said coldly. “Get out of here. And the next time we meet, we’ll defeat you again.”

The wizard glowered at him before disappearing in a puff of smoke. Fakir glared at the empty space before looking back to his friends.

“How bad are you hurt?” he wanted to know.

“Autor was hurt worse!” Ahiru declared. “He was trying to protect me. And then he had to grab me when I started to fall. . . .” She shuddered.

“I’m alright,” Autor said. “It’s nothing that can’t be solved with a peaceful rest. And we won’t get that here.” He frowned at the lava on either side of the stone path. “Let’s go.”

“I’m all for that.” Fakir stood, watching as Ahiru and Autor rose as well. Ahiru hesitated, shifting her weight.

“Um . . . Fakir?” she said at last.

He looked to her. “What?”

“If there really hadn’t been a way to save us both . . . what would you have done?” she asked softly.

His expression hardened. “I don’t know,” he said. “And I don’t want to have to find out. Let’s just get out of here.”

Ahiru nodded. “I’m so glad we’re all safe,” she said, her voice still quiet.

Autor concurred.

Fakir said a silent prayer of thanks as they began to walk back up the path that led outside, to freedom.