Work Text:
Duchess went through the motions, counting the steps in her mind. She knew the routine like the back of her hand, not thinking twice about her next move. Not thinking about it at all actually.
Up and down on her toes. She was one with the wind, the water. Flowing every so gently. Back and forth.
One, two. Three, four. Five, six. Seven, eight.
Sparrow lounged behind her against a tree, playing his dreadful music on that awful guitar. She was just thankful that he wasn't singing for now. His off-key yelling would screw up her own tempo.
She rose up to spin into a pirouette with careful balance. She can't afford to let her rogue thoughts throw her off tempo.
One, two. Three, four. Five, six. Seven, eight.
She doesn't get why he hangs around so often. She knows he has other friends. Why does he insist on bothering her all the time?
She begrudgingly assumes it's because he's after something all hormonal teenage boys want. Too bad for him, Duchess isn't giving herself away. Not her body, nor her heart.
Not until fate forces her to…
Keep to the beat. To the left for four. To the right for four.
O-One, two. Three, four. Five, six. Seven, eight.
Duchess swallowed, trying to force her throat to open back up. She exhales through her mouth, keeping her pace on the water's surface.
That's right. She's going to fall in love one day with whoever her story deems is her true love. Duchess can't really imagine it.
She raises her arms up and around. Her wings; graceful and delicate. She tried to quell her nerves and the shaking in her fingers.
One… two… Three, four. Five, six. Seven, eight.
She doesn't want to fall in love. Look at where it got her parents. Father, trapped in a loveless marriage, refusing to even look at her because all he can see is her mother. And mother… mother…
She jumps down the lake, arching perfectly in the air just as she was taught to.
Onetwo. Threefour. Fivesix. Seveneight.
Swans mate for life, and while Duchess is only part swan, she knows if she gives up what little is left of her heart, it would ruin her. Just like it did mother. Besides, what's the point of love when it's already predestined for you? What's the point of anything?
Legacy day looms ever closer and soon Duchess will sign away her soul to live out the rest of her rather short tale.
She picks up the pace. She can't let her thoughts get in the way.
Onetwothreefourfivesixseveneight.
Sparrow's abysmal cords cut through the air. Why does he hang around her? Why does he pretend to care?
She'll only find love once in her life and she'll give everything up for it. That's how her story is written.
The sun reflects off of the water's surface and catches her eye. Soon the time will come when the moon's light will dictate what she does. When she can be human.
She hates the moon. She doesn't want to be a swan. She doesn't want this destiny!
She's up on her toes, moving fast. Don't let the balance be thrown off.
One!Two!Three!Four!Five!Six!Seven!Eight!
She doesn't want to love! She doesn't want to watch as her tiny heart shatters into a million pieces! She doesn't want to lose her body forever!
What's the point! What's the point of her doing anything if it's already been written for her! Why is she dancing right now when it's all going to end with her bloated corpse floating aimlessly at the bottom of the lake!
One!Two!Three!Four!Five!Six!Seven!Ei–
Her ankle rolled as she rounded the last turn of her fouetté. Duchess couldn't find her balance again, her head spinning.
She fell sideways into the water with a great splash. She didn't hear Sparrow's guitar scratch. She didn't think to swim upward. Her lungs begged for air and Duchess struggled, taking gasping breaths only to fill with more water.
She reached up for the water's surface as she drifted further away from it. Is this where her story ends? Here and now? Is fate really so cruel, it won't let her live what little life she had left. Tears slipped from her eyes, lost among the lake.
Her eyes drifted shut as she accepted her destiny. She only wished she could have given a proper goodbye to what few friends she had.
Strong arms wrapped around her waist and she was pulled harshly upwards. She was vaguely aware of heavy boots kicking the back of her legs. In normal circumstances, she would have retaliated in kind, but she didn't have the strength.
Duchess was jolted as she finally broke the water's surface. She was dropped harshly on the ground, rolling away from the lake edge.
Calloused hands rolled her onto her back, shaking her shoulders furiously. Duchess blinked up at her savior. The sun shone bright above them, bathing him in an angelic glow and blinding her. She shut her eyes, despite her rescuer's demand not to.
“....ess…Du..ess….ay…th me… DUCHESS!”
His voice sounded distant in her ears and she could feel the rhythmic pounding on her chest and muffled counting as everything grew darker.
“....two… four. Five… seven. Eight. Nine…”
—
It was still bright when she opened her eyes, she shut them tighter instinctively. The bed was firm and the sheets were stiff, nothing like how she remembered them. She groaned as she tried to shift and get more comfortable. Her body ached as she moved.
“RISE AND SHINE SLEEPING BEAUTY!” An obnoxious yell came from her side, followed by a guitar riff.
Sparrow… of all the people to wake up to.
“Actually, no. You're not a beauty.” he laughed, lounging on the bed next to her, “You're just a sleeping goose.”
Duchess grunted, rolling her half closed eyes. “What are you doing in my room, Sparrow?” she grumbled.
“Uh… We're not in your room,” he answered, raising a brow, “We're in the INFIRMARY!” he screamed, striking a cord on his guitar.
“WHAT!” she squawked, sitting up instantly. She immediately regretted that outburst, her body screamed at her.
“Hey! Woah! Easy there!” Sparrow guided her back down onto the bed, “You're not supposed to move around that much.”
Duchess groaned as she leaned back, holding her side. “What happened?”
Sparrow opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off as Madame Baba Yaga turned the corner to greet them.
“Oh good, you've awakened,” she smiled, floating over to Duchess’ side, “You gave us quite a scare. You're lucky Mr. Hood came to your rescue.”
Oh, right. The lake…
Duchess’ eyes fell, her arms wrapped around her stomach, as if she were ashamed. “Sorry, Madame Yaga. …Thanks, Sparrow .” She hesitated to add that bit. With her luck, Sparrow would take that as an ego boost.
“There is nothing to be sorry for, my dear,” Madam Yaga pulled the curtain divider between her and Sparrow's beds, “However, there is something we must discuss… privately.” She side-eyed the curtain.
“YOU CAN'T GET RID OF ME!” Sparrow sang-yelled while strumming that damned guitar of his.
“We're monitoring him in case he caught a cold,” Madame Yaga explained with a sigh, “Early fall is not the best time to go for a swim.” She chuckled.
“Wh-What was it that you wanted to talk about?” Duchess asked, brow knitting together in worry.
“You inhaled quite a bit of water, Miss Swan. Luckily, Mr. Hood knew cpr–”
“You better not have kissed me!” Duchess yelled.
“First of all, EW!” Sparrow retorted, “Second, its mouth to mouth! I saved your life!”
Duchess gagged. As thankful as she is, the mental image of Sparrow putting his mouth on hers sent shivers up her spine. Who knows when the last time he brushed his teeth was.
“But,” Madame Yaga continued, “Due to his strength, you now have a few cracked ribs you need to be mindful of.”
Duchess felt around her chest, that explained the pulsing pain beneath her flesh.
“Thanks a lot,” she rolled her eyes, she could imagine Sparrow flexing in pride.
“Uh… You're welcome!”
“There's no need to worry!” Madame Yaga said quickly, “The healing spells should have you fixed up in no time.”
She lowered her voice and continued, “But what I really wanted to speak with you about was your feet.”
Duchess’ heart dropped, breaking into a cold sweat. “Wh– What about them, Madame Yaga?” she asked, a nervous smile stretched across her face.
“Well, not only do you have a twisted ankle,” Madame Yaga leaned closer, as if Sparrow wouldn't hear and spare Duchess the embarrassment, “I couldn't help but notice your feet are heavily blistered, Miss Swan. Your achilles tendons are strained and, if I'm not mistaken, it appears you've been bleeding through your shoes. I have to ask, why haven't you come for help?”
Duchess blinked away the tears that came dangerously close to spilling. Lip quivering, she answered, “I'm sorry, Madame Yaga, I didn't think it was a big deal.”
Her teacher sighed, gently patting Duchess’ bed sheets. “Well, I implore you, next time you get a serious injury like this, come to me. I may not be able to heal them fully, if I don't get to them fast enough. Do you understand?”
Duchess swallowed the lump in her throat. Unable to speak, she merely nodded. She didn't want anyone to see them. Not even Lizzie knew, always going to bed before Duchess even dared to take her shoes off.
The pain in her feet was her reminder that she was human. She is not just words on a page of the same story told over and over and over again. She is living and breathing and she feels.
“Good,” Madame Yaga smiled, “And until you've made a complete recovery, the headmaster and I have agreed to forbid you from dancing.”
“WHAT!” Duchess bolted up from the bed, ignoring her aching body, “You can't do that! That's not f–”
“It's just until you recover, Miss Swan,” Madame Yaga tried to placate her, “Just relax for the time being. You'll be back up and twirling in no time. But for now, we don't even want you walking unless it's absolutely necessary.”
Duchess crossed her arms. She'd love to correct the teacher. What she does can not be merely described as twirling, but is rather complex and requires utmost precision. But her tongue felt as if it had swollen to the size of her mouth.
Her breathing shortened and her shoulders shook. Why? Why did she have to take dancing from her? It was her de-stressor. Her coping mechanism. It let her feel closer to her mother, who was known for her grace on the dance floor.
What is she to do now? Lay in bed all day with nothing but her endless thoughts? Worrying about whether Rumplestilskin would use this as an excuse to give her detention forever after. Or if Justine Dancer has perfected that new routine before her.
Or is she just supposed to latch on to the fact that she just got a taste of what the end of her story will be…
“It won't be long,” Madame Yaga smiled, “Just until the healing magic takes.” She pulled the curtain separating Duchess and Sparrow back. “Mr. Hood, I trust you will make sure Duchess takes care of herself.”
“Can do!” Sparrow gave the teacher a two finger salute.
Madame Yaga then took her leave, giving the two students time to rest and recover.
Not even five seconds after she left, Sparrow struck a cord on his guitar. “No dancing for you means MORE SINGING FOR ME!”
“SPARROW, CAN YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP FOR FIVE MINUTES!”
Sparrow froze, guitar pick raised in the air epically. Then he scoffed, “It's not the end of the world. Oh, boo hoo! You can't go dance for a while!”
“Leave me alone, Sparrow,” Duchess turned away, her loose hair falling in front of her face like a curtain.
Sparrow furrowed his brow, setting his guitar aside and sitting up on the side of his bed. “None of this would've even happened if your feet weren't fucked up. Why didn't you go to Baba Yaga?”
Duchess didn't answer, toying with the blankets on her lap.
“Can you answer me for once?” Sparrow stepped up to Duchess’ bedside, “Why didn't you go for help?”
She didn't answer, jaw set tight as she tried to hide the quivering of her lip. She quickly wiped under her nose, sniffing as her nostrils stuffed up. No, don't fall apart. Not in front of him.
“Hey, Double Duch…” Sparrow said, his tone much softer than before, “Can you please talk to me?”
“Stop calling me that,” she glared at him, her throat felt sore as she spoke, “Stop acting like you care about me. You don't even know anything about me. I don't understand why you hang around me. Or why you're even bothering to talk to me right now. Or why you jumped in the… in the…” She cut herself off, her vision blurring.
“You love the fruit parfait in the Castleteria and you make that funny honking noise every time you eat it, so you try to eat it when you think no one's paying attention.”
Duchess looked up at him, Sparrow stared at her with half lidded eyes and his arms crossed.
“S- So?” Duchess questioned, brow furrowing, “Woooooow, you know what my favorite food is? Probably so you can make fun of me…”
“I know you asked Professor Piper for violin lessons because you thought you could incorporate it into one of your routines,” Sparrow continued, “Personally, I think you should try picking up a guitar, it'd be cooler that way.”
Duchess rolled her eyes before asking, “How did you even–”
“Despite my natural talent ,” Sparrow smirked, “I occasionally go to our teacher for tips. And I may have overheard a few things.
I also know that you're super jealous of Justine Dancer. Or you have a crush on her… Maybe both,” he shrugged, “It's hard to tell with you sometimes.”
Duchess opened her mouth to retort, then closed it again, then opened it again. Gaping like a fish, she questioned, “H- How could you…”
“Because I pay attention to things,” he scowled down at her, “You're my friend and I care about you. Not everything is a trick.”
Duchess’ eyes watered. She had put up so many walls, yet it seemed as if they were made of glass this whole time. And now, Sparrow is pointing out all the nicks and cracks in the pane, ready to break.
“You could've died today, Duch,” Sparrow's shoulders fell, “You act like you're above everything, but I know you're not okay. You can talk to me, you know…”
…you're…not…okay…
…you're not okay….
you're not okay.
And like that the walls shattered. Shards blasted out in all directions, sinking deep into her heart. Blood and sorrow pouring out in waves leaving a red hot feeling in her chest.
Her heart is pumping now, trying to keep the blood flow going. Her breaths were sharp and erratic. She felt light headed as blood drained from her face, leaving her even paler. Keep the blood flowing! Stay alive!
But there was no blood. No pain. It's all in her head. A painful reminder that she still has a heart. A fragile one at that.
The tears that had been welling up in her eyelids slid out as Duchess let out a shaky breath. “I- It's not… fair…” she leaned forward, bringing her fists to her eyes.
Sparrow didn't say anything, hesitantly bringing a hand to her back and rubbing small circles on it.
“Wh- why am I the one who… why do I have to… Why don't I get a happy ending? I'm royalty!” she exclaimed gasping between cries and slamming her fists into her sheets, “I'm the Swan Princess! The Swan Queen ! I'm supposed to get a happily ever after!
…So why me?” Duchess crossed her shaking arms, trying to contain her shivers and sobs. “Why does… Justine get to sneak out at- at night and… do what she wants… and face no consequences? …Or why does Daring get to kiss an unconscious girl and suddenly become king?
Why do you, ” she shot Sparrow a most evil look, “Wh- why do you get to literally rob people and get called a hero, j- ju- just cause you fight a corrupt sheriff?”
“It's not fair,” Sparrow agreed quietly, “We don't get to choose our destinies. I'd rather spend my life touring with my band, not go on the run and live in the woods.”
“Oh boo hoo,” Duchess faux pouted, “I don't wanna die!”
She stilled as she said it. She said it out loud. No one ever said it out loud, like it was an open secret.
Anyone who knew how Swan Lake ended, never spoke of it around her. No one asked her about her mother, nor asked how she felt about the whole ordeal. They never said, ‘Duchess is going to die,’ they said, ‘Duchess doesn't get a happy ending,’.
If they didn't mention it, then it didn't exist to them. But it was very real. It was Duchess’ life.
And right now, it was real to Sparrow too. She didn't know if, in an hour, he'd go back to pretending it wasn't. Right now, he's looking at her with tears in his eyes. For right now, he understands.
Without responding, Sparrow leaned forward gently wrapping his arms around her shoulders. She could feel the wet of his tears hitting her skin, but didn't say anything of it.
Because Duchess understands too. She doesn't want to die, she really, truly, doesn't. Why would she? She's so young right now and it won't be long after graduation that her story plays out.
She's a walking tragedy.
She can't even think of what she'd want to do with her life. There's no point in wishing to be something when you grow up when you know you won't.
But she does love to dance and sometimes, whilst mourning the life she could've had, she thinks she could be a professional dancer. She'd get to perform in the Great Theatre with all the elegance and grace of a swan. Her name would be known for her talent, not her tragic tale.
She doesn't want to die.
“I- I don't … wanna die, Sparrow,” she croaked, lifting her arms around his, “I don't wanna die! I c- can't die!”
She didn't do anything to deserve this fate. Neither did her mother or any of her ancestors before her. They were all too passive. Content to offer themselves up to fate.
But not Duchess. She's always been defiant. Standoffish. She can't just let herself go down without a fight. She's not going to lay down and accept it.
She'll get a happily ever after. No matter what it costs her.
“I don't wanna die…”