The Raven Prince had hunger in the hollow whites of his wide eyes. The blood in him was as hungry as the creature it came from, and it pounded promises against his veins. It wormed between the fragments of his incomplete heart, pecking at what it found in him, but he did not have enough to satisfy it. He knew his heart was sorry scraps, and not fit for the Raven.

Not yet, he reminded himself, and the thought placated him, scrawling a dreamy smile across his face. Until then, his hunger would burn through him. He would never have enough love, no matter how many hearts he stole, and he had been unable to capture even one. A hiss boiled in the silent night. His failures were unacceptable to both himself and his master.

M-master... I have none. What are you... am I... doing?

Gold was so easily damaged. Soft and malleable. The Raven Prince ripped into that golden heart as it was reflected suddenly in his eyes. He pried at his chest; he couldn't cool under the black fabric, and his heart might scorch through. Gold melted in the heat of the wounds. The hunger painfully scratched for freedom from that fragile, gilded cry in his chest. It was a shell of gold leaf, nothing more, and he would fill it in with all the love in the world.

Then he could stop hurting so much. The weakened heart kept burning into something charred and bitter, and he still heard the gentle voice screaming at the back of his mind. There were even times when he wanted to scream with it. The smile widened at the sharpness of the blows it took, however, his eyes narrowing as if to focus on something distant. He was the Raven Prince, he remembered, and he squashed the scream into silence. It was annoying, he was sure it would return.

Ah... How peaceful. He radiated power and delirium in the temporary quiet. Sickness was vivid on his pale face. He felt as if every second without blood pouring down his throat moved him closer to a useless end. He tilted his head to the sky, silvery hair sticking in strands to sweat on his forehead. He almost seemed to expect the weather to oblige him with a gruesome turn, but even ordinary rain did not fall.

Nothing came. He cawed viciously, enraged at the stars in the sky. That annoying light, light just like what that Princess Tutu brought him. That was what held him away from everything he could ever want. From silence in his heart, from mindless, painless love, from blood in his throat-

But he could have blood, couldn't he? No one would restrain his talons, not Tutu, not that pathetic knight. She would give her heart willing, the princess who had been given to him had no use for her heart. It didn't matter how stained it was, he was ravenous enough for anything. Ravenous. He laughed, a sound that started human, but quickly peeled away into raw crow-calls.

And there was her voice. Timid, as pale as her thin flesh. “My prince... What are you doing?”

It was a simple question, but he found it funnier still. His laughter unceasing, he pounced and snatched her wrist. He knew it would hurt. That was what he wanted. If her prince was in pain, then she had no right to avoid it.

“Oh, Kraehe, you would give me your heart, no matter how rotten it is, wouldn't you?” His laughter couldn't obscure the words, and she flinched. He gasped, his breathless giggling ate the air quickly, needling into their surroundings. “Of course you will. You are too grateful that anyone would even ask.”

“I...” She shook. He could feel her trembling hesitation in his grip. His eyes flared darkly, and the rage he held in his heart for everything that denied him love cut into her. He could barely see her under a red veil that sparkled over his vision like a pool of blood, but her pulse rapped against his bony grip. He wanted to rip it out and eat it.

“You would deny me?!” He shrieked, a wild creature driven mad by pain. “No! You may not!”

Absolute silence fell abruptly. Everywhere except for inside of him, where a gentle voice that had lost its name screamed again. His whisper was perfectly amiable.

“I will take your heart out myself. Your father will enjoy it, and I will surely be...” He gasped. What? He would be- Be rewarded. Be sated. Yes, there was no doubt. His sword swirled into existence in his hand, darkness flowing as if the blade removed it from the veins of the night itself. “Thank you, my princess!”

The sword cut its arc straight into Rue's heart.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Siegfried's eyelids jerked open, revealing golden irises bright with terror. He tried to stop a panicked cry, and failed. “Rue! Wh-what did I...”

His heart was beating, but he pressed a desperate hand over it, briefly entertaining the thought that it would be worth stopping it to halt the Raven's blood that haunted the flow of his own. He was never aware of it while he was awake, but the fear that it would make him a threat to his princess persisted. Worse than anything else was that in all his dreams, the Raven Prince's hunger seemed to swell to something harsher than what he had endured in reality. He found a sitting position, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his head atop them.

Another hand slipped in, and joined his own over his heart. “What is it...?”

He couldn't say it was just a nightmare, not to himself. He couldn't face her. “Nothing... I'm sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep.” But it was hard to cover up his feelings now that he had them. She ran her hand up and lifted his chin, directing his gaze into hers.

“What is it, my prince?” She repeated, courtly firmness threaded with her concern.

“A dream.” He forced the answer, it wasn't as though it was a lie, but its absentminded lightness was strained. He turned away to stare at the wall in front of them through sorrowful eyes, and pleaded quietly, “Please...”

A shudder ran along his frame, and it would not stop. He did not want to continue the conversation, because there was nowhere it could go that would not cause discomfort to his princess. He would have liked to be alone then, to calm himself without the possibility of hurting her, though he doubted he could have slept again that night however much he tried.

She rested herself against his shaking back, and he stiffened. “Rue... My princess...”

“I won't force you to speak, of course... But...” Her words and breath froze, apprehensive, as if she worried he might lash out at her for pushing. She bit her lip, and continued with fresh steel gleaming in her tone. “I would like to know what about me troubles my prince.”

That had not been what he expected. Had her name from his nightmare scared upset her out of some belief that she was the monster? No, that was his own role. The noble prince and the monster; he questioned the ability of such a fragmented being to survive for long. He whirled to face her, however, even taking her hand between his own. He hated that he had stirred such a thought. “No! You have done nothing. I promise.”

His swift insistence robbed Rue of speech, but there was no relief on her startled face. Instead, the anxiety that she had been unable to conceal fully became a knowing concern. He lifted his eyebrows nervously, allowing a small, helpless smile. She did not return it, but her from skipped lightly across his heart just as she reached up to brush a hand against his face. Her expression was steady, but soft tremors ran through her words. “And yet something troubles you. What sort of nightmare was it, to frighten you like this?”

“I... hurt you...” Siegfried admitted. It was vile, in all honesty worse than what he spoke of, he had hurt her and he had reveled in it. His delight had made him sick, but he could not fail to believe that such shameful actions would once have truly excited him. He had said all he would, but he was certain it was enough for her to know. She could determine the single thing capable of making him harm her, even in sleep. He murmured, “Rue, please don't-”

“Blame myself?” She laughed frostily, but the ice cracked quickly. She was the reason that these nightmares visited her prince. She had brought them, and worse poisons, and she was aware that he had seen them before. It was only tonight that she had come by the courage to face him, and for her efforts she questioned more than ever if she would be able to do anything to comfort him.

“It is not your fault.” He shook his head, desperately longing for her to see that. She had held him in her heart from before he had recognized her existence, despite the strength it had taken to keep it there. Now he was causing her worry, months with Raven's blood had eroded more from him than it had from Rue over her entire life. He didn't disguise his admiration. “You are much more powerful than me, my princess. I need you...” The flash that lit his eyes was more than moonlight from the window. He buried his words under his breath, and seemed to have become mired in his own thoughts. “Or it may...”

“What?” She demanded, then she hissed in a breath, as though it would pull the sharpness of her tone back into her. She continued more gently, “What are you saying?”

Only then did he realize that his sour uncertainty had emerged for her to hear. His mouth twisted bitterly. Such irresponsibility, and at this of all times. “No, it's nothing... Nothing that I am not strong enough for. I am a prince.” He made the dashing declaration as he had before. It seemed to be impossible for him to waver on those words, but that might have been the first instance where he lacked the genuine confidence to support them.

She simply turned from him. If he did not wish to confide in her, then it would be wrong to press him against his will. She would nod without further complaint, lay back down, and stay awake as long as he did. It would be the rest of the night, most likely, but it was for her prince's sake. She had to be by his side. They were safe together, and she had to protect her haven. She cast a passive glance over him, and she could tell that he was still shaken, if not shaking. It wasn't fair.


The realization collapsed inside her head, falling into her body, and before another needless tangle of thought could slice through her mind, her arms were around Siegfried. It wasn't fair to him, for her to rely on him for a place to be safe, and risk nothing to give him one. Perhaps the prince didn't want her help, the fear she nurtured constantly was that he might one day decide to shove her away, and this might be what in turn shoved him to that point.

Do you have no respect for me? Do you think I must rely on you, or do you never listen when I speak? I am a prince, and I have no need of such an interfering princess.

She did not know what she would do if she had to hear that, so Rue kept her distance on most occasions. She was almost surprised that she still had the warmth of him against herself. Her pulse sped against her chest, and her heart leaped into his on each beat. The relief of seeming to feel his heart do the same was immense, and she whispered into his ear, “Yes, you are a prince. I am your princess, and whichever you you are, I will stay, and trust that you are truly my prince. My prince who can do nothing that would hurt me, I promise.”

“Thank you, Rue.”

Her cheeks brightened to match her eyes as he laid his head against her shoulder, a glimpse down at him showed her the richest smile she had seen him give. He would have been shocked if she had chosen an earlier moment to look, but not unpleasantly so, it had been warmly electrifying. The shock had rushed the grasping remnants of horror from him, leaving tiredness and love as he leaned against her. She skated a hand along his spine, and he allowed himself to relax, until that was all he could feel. His breathing slowed and steadied, but she held to him serenely well after he had fallen asleep.