We're going to be dealing with adult themes here, so a general trigger warning to start with. I'll try and give more specific ones, as needed, per chapter.

I don't own any Disney properties. Except a couple of Jasmine dolls.

Aurora pulled the brush through her long, golden curls as she watched herself in the mirror. The heavy wood of the brush, with its intricate fuscia gems, provided a comforting, rhythmic tug. Though she had been sitting here for some time, she couldn't help but be struck by just how un-royal she looked. The tiara was sitting on its stand by her bed, and the long gowns had been replaced by a robe. True, it was silvery silk, but it was a far cry from the crinolines of the day time. The real change, however, lay in her features. With the makeup removed, Aurora still knew there was beauty to be found in her face, her features were dainty, and unblemished. But her otherwise flawless visage was marred by one overwhelming feature- the large, dark bags that settled underneath her eyes.

It was fine in the daytime of course; no small amount of makeup covered the bags, and thus her secret. Aurora hadn't had a full night's sleep since the incident.

It wasn't that she hadn't TRIED certainly; though getting in the bed itself was an exercise in control. But the fear settled in her chest and took over her breathing when she remembered the time she couldn't wake up.

Everyone had tried to be so helpful. Prince Philip had held her, even though the embrace felt more like constraints to her. It wasn't that she didn't love him, but her need to have autonomy over her body after having it ripped from her was overriding her need for physical comfort; this of course frustrated him greatly.

It's not that big a deal.

You need to get over it, this was three years ago.

This is all in your head; and you're making it worse by not sleeping. If you would just sleep it wouldn't bother you so much.

She didn't even respond to his last statement, shrouded in misunderstanding and ridicule, though it was. She knew he meant well. They all meant well. The fairies had even brewed her a potion to help her sleep. She had laughed derisively through the tears when she had been handed the sparkling purple potion, and watched as it swirled in its glass jar.

You want me to use magic. To sleep.

They had nodded eagerly at her, oblivious to the obvious parallel Aurora had been trying to draw. It had been Malificent's magic that had gotten her here in the first place. The witch's spell which made her afraid to sleep now. But Aurora had smiled, the bitterness fighting to get through, and accepted it with the grace her station demanded.

The bottle sat unused, collecting dust, on her armoire. Her eyes flicked to it now, though she had never once been tempted by it. What startled her was the clock that sat next to it.

She sighed to herself. She had been brushing her hair for two hours.

Aurora took a moment to be thankful that Philip was off on some quest again. Not that she didn't miss her husband, but she was grateful that he wasn't here to chide her for her avoidance techniques. Although, she knew that she probably deserved the chiding. The same techniques had meant that she hadn't slept a single wink the night previous.

This concerned her greatly. Not because it was the first night she had gone without sleep, far from it. But if she ever went too long without sleep, the next night was a battle- a literal battle as she fought against her body.

That was the worst part of this lasting curse. She was unable to stay awake forever. There was always going to be a moment when her body's survival instinct kicked in, and forced her to sleep. It scared her so much to know there was a point when she would not have power over her own body. That it would take over and shut her down. It scared her to death.

She would shudder awake, sometimes after moments, sometimes after hours, and her body would immediately wrack with sobs.

Aurora winced in anticipation of the long night ahead of her. The day wasn't so bad. There was an endless litany of meaningless tasks to complete to fill her mind. Even if the day was slow, she had been known to sneak out in her old clothes, and work among the townspeople, who toiled restlessly to clean up after the ruins of the battle. Yes, it had been years, but there was still devastation everywhere. It heartened her to know her pain was not the worst, and that she had the power, at least in some circumstances, to work against it.

She turned to face her bed, and begrudgingly took in its splendor. It had been a present from Philip's mother on the occasion of their wedding, which frankly Aurora had found a little strange. The implications were rather unsettling, after all. But she had no interest in starting a quarrel with her newly minted mother in law, so she had taken the present in stride. It was a deep, dark mahogany with intricate engravings of leaves and trees that swirled up the bed posts into a canopy. Deep emerald and gold bedding was neatly arranged with a mountain of pillows. The bed LOOKED inviting, that simply wasn't the issue. But even when she slept she dreamed of drowning in the pillows, being hung by the silk sheets from the canopy. It wasn't the bed that was her enemy, it was what it represented: sleep.

Still, she had read every tome in her collection. She had caught up on correspondence. The only thing she hadn't done was take up sewing again, but even the dullest of her maids had understood that aversion. There was nothing left to do, but… sleep.

She wanted to try. She needed to try. Aurora hung up her short robe and gingerly pulled back the heavy blankets. She didn't bother turning out the lights. It had just been easier to keep them on, because she knew she would awake in a panic at some point. Having the ability to scan the lit room quickly had proved an important ability.

Still, she crawled under the cold sheets. The temperatures equalized, and warmed against her body. It was only now that she realized how achingly silent the room was. She found a strange, if short lived comfort in it.

There were too many pillows. Aurora was vaguely aware that she was already panicking as she threw pillow after daintily embroidered pillow to the ground. She kicked off the heaviest of the quilts so that only a thin sheet covered her. That was better.

Aurora sighed as she forced her body to relax in the bed. How long had it been since she had actively tried to sleep? Mostly it had been stolen naps when here body had betrayed her here and there, quickly chased by panic. But she knew she needed the sleep. Her image in the mirror haunted her. She had looked pale, and gaunt, and she knew something had to change.

She forced her eyes shut, and tried to even her breathing. The more she focused on it, the more labored her breathing became. The tighter she held her eyes shut, the more shadows danced on the periphery of her awareness. Dragons and sorceresses, and spinning wheels with sharp needles that grew, and grew, and grew.

She sat up in bed breathing roughly. Her fingers clutched at the sheets beneath her. She cursed under her breath, words that only threaded her consciousness in moments like these. She went through the rote of calming herself.

She can't hurt you anymore.

You will wake up if you go to sleep.

You need sleep to be at your best, and protect yourself.

Her breathing slowed in her chest. She reached to the ground, and pulled up one of the pillows from the ground. She pulled it close to her, wrapping herself around it, even as tears slid slowly down her cheeks and onto the pillow below.

It was going to be a long night.

Please give me some feedback on what you guys think of this topic. I have some upcoming chapters in mind, Mulan is obvious, Rapunzel. But I would love suggestions. Thank you all for taking the time to read. 3