'Standing in the Dark'
(A ficlet prompt request from ilikemyhgbetter. Based on the song 'Standing in the Dark' by Lawson. AU Enchanted Forest. Phillip's soul has just been successfully returned.)
-x-
Every exhalation felt like agony-as if the gentle pushes of her lungs made the precious oxygen whistle through her chest and heart, the air tugging at the ragged edges of the void suddenly torn there. Her breathing felt labored and constricted like she was underwater and sucking each breath through the stem of a narrow reed. Every moment felt excruciatingly slow, and terrifyingly fast at the same time. Seconds ripped by in a wild, wonton flow of temporal speed.
Every piece, every cell-even down to her bones—felt heavy; weighed down by the immense and unseen burden of duty. Something feral and ancient screamed in her skull as a headache started to build, pounding behind her eye sockets, but her tongue held itself in silence.
Wrong. Everything was wrong.
Aurora was Phillip's. His alone. Mulan was the prince's sworn warrior. Her oath had been to care for the precious love of Phillip's heart, and the swordswoman had silently agreed to spill blood if necessary to insure the safety of the princess. She had bowed her life to her sovereign's wish, pledging herself to her life of duty: Loyalty above all else.
But somewhere along the way-in those long hours in the shadow-dappled woodlands, the days spent baking in the heated sands of the desert, the months ticking by as they scoured the realm- the oh-so-carefully constructed boundaries had crumbled. The hard charcoal line betwixt duty, honor, and fealty had blurred, growing into the warm glow of friendship coupled with the dark threads of something else the warrior dared not name. Her icy heart did not feel as cold as it used to.
Mulan no longer wished to be alone, and she knew the cause. The princess had made it so.
Aurora with her gentle smile, and loving heart. Aurora with her fiery spirit and headstrong will. Aurora with her open generosity and willingness to sacrifice herself for the sake of others.
The warrior shook her head at the twisted, confused whirling of her wretched thoughts. 'It would have been far better if Cora had chosen me. The witch could have ripped this foul, traitorous heart from my chest and crushed it to dust.' Mulan mused bitterly. 'At least that would have been quick, instead of this slow torture'.
The warrior watched as her friends' faces grew closer, inch by inch. The prince devoured the space between himself and Aurora's supple flesh in only a matter of seconds, but each movement seemed like the creep of an iceberg to Mulan. She watched the couple collide, crashing together and locking in a maddeningly passionate kiss. The steely-faced warrior fought to keep the contents of her stomach still, fighting back a sickening wretch as she saw Aurora's crystal blue eyes, clear as a fresh water stream, flutter closed in ecstasy.
She watched their lips meet and something buried deep inside her died.
"Mulan? Are you alright? You look a bit sick." Phillip queried, his lips popping as he broke the kiss to gaze at the warrior. The prince's dark brow crinkled in consternation as his soft, brown eyes studied her piqued and blanched face.
She felt as if she had been flayed open with her innards scooped out, leaving a raw and gaping hollowness. Torn asunder, and shoddily stitched back together again. Not quite whole.
"Yes. I am fine." She replied, voice grating hoarsely. Her vocal chords felt tight, strangled by a hot, hard lump that choked off all sound. She flashed a wan smile, hoping the gesture would allay Phillip's fears and put the prince at ease.
Her cheeks felt steely and tenuous as they stretched up disingenuously. The falsehood shone in her empty eyes. A small muscle at the corner of her tightly drawn lips twitched and the fragile mask wavered, threatening to splinter her joyous veneer like the porcelain face of a doll. She could feel something cracking inside her mind.
She needed to leave. She couldn't stay; couldn't watch this any more.
Their kisses killed her far more painfully than a thousand arrows ever could.
"I'm just going to…Uh..to..go find some firewood. The sun will be setting soon." Mulan croaked, turning stiffly on her heel and jauntily staggered towards the forest depths. She felt the gaze of the princess hot on the nape of her neck, and fought her body's intense desire to turn and face those eyes of azure. She flexed each muscle in turn, forcing herself to move. One foot, then the other. Tendons creaked with stiffness. She was a tottering, walking, corpse. Alive- breathing, moving, speaking—but lacking all that made her human. Dead.
As lifeless on the outside as she felt on the inside.
The swordswoman marched out of sight with a lock-step, but as soon as the shadows of the oaks shielded her from view she slowed to a stop, unable to go any further. Mulan felt her knees buckle but did nothing to stop or brace against her impending fall. She landed heavily on her side and shoulder, her body splitting the underbrush like the fallen trunk of a tree. The pain of savagely bruised ribs didn't even register in the woman's broken mind. She lay there dazed and numb; gasping for air that still eluded her aching lungs.
The warrior felt as if she'd been punched hard in the gut. Her body hurt both everywhere and nowhere. Mulan shuddered, gooseflesh rising small mounds on her skin as she slipped into the cold grips of shock.
Finally, amongst the dirt, worms, and glowering trees, the tears she had held back for so long trickled their white-hot trails down her ruddy cheeks.
"I love her." The warrior whispered to the empty woods.
"I love her… but she doesn't love me."
Bestial sobs tore from the chest of the woman, shattering the glade's peaceful serenity. The solemn oaks turned their backs, content to ignore the sobs of the swordswoman and gaze, unseeing, up at the cold, distant sky.