Home
(AN: Some Sleeping Warrior fluff to help me procrastinate studying for finals. Inspired by the song 'All About Us' by He Is We. AU in which Mulan and Aurora have passed through the portal from 'Queen of Hearts' and have been in Storybrooke for about a month. They are currently in the early stages of a relationship.)
Summary: An AU Sleeping Warrior fic. Mulan feels out of her element in the modern world of Storybrooke… Now it's Aurora's turn to teach what it means to be home.
Mulan growled low in her throat as she tromped up the stairs to the tiny apartment she shared with her roommates. The day had been a long and grueling one. She rubbed the heel of her palms into aching eye sockets, hoping to dispel the weary soreness that seemed to leaden her lids. The reek of fish seemed to cling to her clothes and permeate her pores. Her search had been fruitless. Again.
It had nearly been a full turn of the moon's cycle and Mulan had found no place to apply her skills in this strange and modern world. Guardsmen and warriors were suddenly antiquated positions, and the need for talented swords-work was no longer in high demand.
Useless. She felt utterly useless.
The thud of her boots resounded on the wooden panels of the staircase, and set a grating tempo to her building headache and already rising temper.
This 'Storybrooke' as they called it, was a world that depended on money rather than monarchies. Economics in the stead of Honor. And, while such a concept had seemed freeing and exciting only 30 days prior, Mulan had not realized that the dissolution of her titles had also come with the evaporation of nearly all of her assets.
The moment she had grasped Aurora's hand and dove in to the swirling abyss between worlds, she had unknowingly forsaken all that she was.
She was penniless. And so was the princess.
The generosity of Snow and Emma was incredible- and deeply appreciated- but Mulan hated the idea of being indebted. Her sense of pride chafed at the prospect. She feared that a lack of revenue and rent on the part of their new tenants would soon start to wear out the auspicious welcome.
So, she and Aurora had both begun searching for jobs. The princess had been graced with far more luck, and in the span of a less than a week had eagerly taken on a part-time assistant job at the Library under Belle's tutelage. Surprisingly Aurora's knowledge of politics, history, and languages had rendered her exceedingly indispensible and desirable in many fields.
Mulan slipped her hand into the back pocket of her dark-wash jeans, she paused a moment, fingers groping blindly for the tiny key ring, before finally extracting it with a jingle. She strode wearily down the hall, shoulders slumping under an unseen weight, before stopping at the door on the right, sliding the key into the lock and letting herself in with a quick turn of the knob.
Aurora flitted about the tiny kitchenette in high spirits.
Something loud and static-y blared from the half-broken radio on the countertop, and the room was filled with the sweet scent of baked goods. The princess whirled happily from counter, to oven, to a large bowl of sugary dough, tossing in ingredients and humming whimsically to herself.
Her hair hung in a loose ponytail, swept up high in an unkempt, yet attractive fashion. She was entirely absorbed, blissfully busied with kneading and mixing. A smudge of flour marred her forehead—presumably where she had previously attempted to tuck an errant tress from her face.
By all accounts, the vivacious cheer, genuine joy, and simplistic allure of the princess' current endeavors should have stolen Mulan's breath away…but, on the contrary, none of it seemed to affect the warrior's fell and darkened mood.
The warrior scrunched up her brow, tossed her leather jacket to the floor, swung the door closed with a heavy thud, and stalked towards the couch.
She slumped, face first, on to the pillows and groaned. Her muscles ached as if she'd been training intensively for hours, and tension seemed to sit coiled, serpent-like, on her spine and shoulders. She screwed up her face, and pressed a pillow over her ears. Her pulse was pounding with a cruel ache behind her eyes and at the base of her skull.
"Can you turn that down?" The growl came muffled from under the pillow, and with a clipped edge that was far sharper than intended.
Aurora's head snapped up, ice blue eyes drawn away from her work over the sticky cookie batter, and appraised the prone form of her dearest love with intensity. It didn't take long for her to see—or rather feel—that something was amiss. She dusted the flour from her palms, and twisted the knob on the radio. It clicked off with a 'plip'.
"Something wrong?" the princess queried, head cocked slightly to the side.
"No. Everything's fine." The muffled reply came clipped, low, and deep, as if from the back of the warrior's throat.
Aurora removed her apron, rinsed her hands in the sink, and sauntered to the couch. Mulan lay sprawled across the leather surface. The tension in the woman was palpable and nigh overwhelming. Corded muscles were flexed and tightened, standing out in stark relief below the thin white veneer of cotton undershirt. A concerned frown pulled at Aurora's lips, her brows knitting together.
She perched herself on the arm of the couch, bracing herself with an extended leg to keep her balance, and placed a hand on the swords-woman's back, rubbing in slow, deep circles.
A low moan rumbled from deep within the warrior's chest, and after a few long moments, Aurora could feel the hard knotted muscles relax beneath her steady touch.
"What's wrong, Mulan…Tell me." The princess murmured, voice pitched low and coaxing. She continued her gentle, methodical stroking until her companion shifted, turning over onto her side. A dark eye, half lidded, and deep as the velvet night sky peered up at her.
"It was a long day…" Mulan replied, sighing deeply. "It didn't work out at the cannery. I failed."
"Shhh, no. You didn't fail." Cooed Aurora, shifting to sit close by the warrior's hip.
"Yes, I did." Mulan rotated, fully onto her back, pressing the heel of her palms to her throbbing eyes and massaging painstakingly slow. "I didn't even last a full day. This is the third time in half-as-many weeks that I have been dismissed from a job."
"So, just try again. Next time will be different…I'm sure of it." Aurora tried to comfort her distraught partner.
"No it won't. " Mulan's voice came very near to cracking with pent up fury, hopelessness, and frustration. A deep sadness saturated her being until she felt as if she would simply bubble over with it, like a cup that has been poured too full. "I am not adequate. My skills are no longer needed here…I do not fit in with this town or these people. I do not even belong here." Her tone wavered like a reed in a strong wind.
"That's not true." Aurora asserted,
"Yes it is. I cannot sing or dance or recite histories. I cannot stitch or sew. I cannot bake or cook. I can do none of these things. Only ride a horse and swing a sword. "
The princess chewed her lip for a long while, the silence hanging thick between them. "Then let me teach you." She grabbed Mulan's hand and stood, pulling her towards the kitchen.
"What?!" The warrior frowned, bemused, as she yielded to Aurora's tugging. Letting herself be lead.
"Let me teach you .How to sing. How to bake. How to dance. It's the least I could do…you protected me in the Enchanted Forest, when I knew nothing of survival. Now it's my turn to show you something new."
Aurora flicked the radio on, and rotated the tuner until an old classical station came in with relative clarity. The ever-present pop and fizzle of static on the old radio was something they'd come to accept. To the pair, it was as much a part of the music as the lyrics and the melodies.
"Ok, one hand in mine…and place your other hand here… that's it. Just there." Aurora guided her dance-partner's strong, calloused fingers, settling them just above the womanly swell of her hips. Mulan's breath came in tight pants as she reeled with the sudden closeness. Her face felt warm, but her palms felt clammy and sweaty.
"'Rory, I…"
"Shh. Just listen." The princess admonished gently, eyes closed, as she swayed to the rhythm of the old ballad-completely unaware of the pounding of the warrior's pulse, and the adrenalin that sang through the veins beneath.
"Feel the beat and the music. Once you can do that, and keep time, then the steps are easy." Aurora's icy blue eyes snapped open, capturing Mulan's dark gaze. The princess's eyes were clear as clean-cut sapphires, and deep as the ocean itself. For a moment the warrior lost all reckoning of time, space, and self in those eyes.
"Got it?"
Aurora's words brought the grim swords-woman back to reality. She nodded, not trusting her words to come out in any more than a mewling whimper.
"Ok, now let's start off easy. Just sway to the tempo, and step slowly in a circle. You're going to be leading, so it's alright if you just make things up as you go…I'll follow, no matter what." Aurora started to sway deeper, pushing Mulan to reflexively mirror the motion. She shifted, tentatively at first, and moved a halting step or two before stopping.
"Am I doing this right?" muttered the warrior, her brow furrowed deep as she looked down at her steel-toed boots. They seemed so large when compared to Aurora's dainty blue flats.
"It's ok. You're doing great. Don't look down, just keep moving….See? You're getting the hang of it already." The princess pulled herself closer, leaning her head on the strong chest of her partner. She closed her eyes letting the warmth of the oven, the distant elegancies of the piano, and the steady throb of her girlfriend's heart permeate her being.
Bliss.
Mulan dipped her mouth and pressed her gentle lips to the princess's forehead in the most delicate of kisses.
"You will always have a place here…with me." The princess murmured. "This…Right now, right here... is your home. This is where you belong."
"Thank you, Aurora. Thank you." She whispered breathily as a single hot tear fell from her long dark lashes.