My Protection
k.l.
Note: Still trying to work out the kinks in my writing and again the words lag far behind the idea. Apologies for any writing flip-flopping or inconsistencies. Italics indicate the past which are not written in sequential order.
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The room is pale with nothing overly spectacular about it. There is a bed off to the far side surrounded by several devices, a nightstand, and a chair.
In the room there are two occupants: one lies in bed while the other stands vigilant.
The only sound is the steady beep of the heart monitor.
Outside the window the rain continues to pour.
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"Aurora, please, it isn't far. Hold on just a little longer."
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"Mulan?"
The woman in question opens her eyes and focuses her gaze in the direction of the voice.
In the doorway stands a hesitant Emma Swan, one hand is raised and resting on the frame of the door while the other clutches an oddly shaped object.
One step followed by a second then a third, Emma makes her way to the beds side, "Think she'd be pretty pissed if knew where she was right now." Emma's face contorts and she sets the object she's holds down on the table side next to a vase of lavender lilies and a hand drawn card. "That came out wrong." A nervous laugh slips past her lips, "I meant you know, the whole sleeping thing," and as she says the word sleeping she accompanies it with a gesture Mulan has never seen.
But it isn't a question so Mulan does not follow it with an answer and a silence settles upon them.
It doesn't take long before Emma grows uncomfortable. At first it's the tap tap of her foot. Then it's her hands that brush at some invisible lint on the chest of her jacket. Mulan, not for the first time, thinks Emma Swan would do well to learn patience.
"You don't have to stand here all silent and creepy-like all the time you know," Emma accompanies her statement with a huff and crosses her arms across her chest, "Go for a walk. Hit a tree. Hit a dwarf. But damn it Mulan do something cause you can't just stand here at the foot of her bed until she wakes up!"
Again, it isn't a question so Mulan does not justify it with an answer.
Emma exhales heavily and it takes all her restraint not to just tug out her hair chunk by chunk at Mulan's insufferable silence. So instead she does the next best thing and storms out of the room.
Mulan is left to digest the silence, alone, again.
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"Mulan!"
"You cannot do this, I forbid it."
"I am not yours to command Mulan, I am my own! My own to do as I will and this is what I will."
"It is foolish and rash and who knows what dangers might befall you."
"It is the only way."
"No. There are others. We will find another."
"No we won't. Not in time"
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Today is not as dreary as the last. The sun has made its mark, though the pools of water still remain.
The empty chair beside the bed is occupied by Snow. Softly she hums and brushes the loose strands of hair back into place.
If Mulan were a stranger, she might mistake Snow for a mother who watches over her child in slumber. But Mulan isn't a stranger and she finds the action oddly intimate and uncomfortable and not for the first time finds herself wishing emotions were something she could better place.
Hours pass without a word exchanged.
When Snow sits all the straighter and her face contorts in pain Mulan vaguely wonders if it isn't due to a spasm of the muscles that cry agony for the hours of disuse. But then Snow speaks. "This isn't how I meant it to be." And the tears she had long held at bay now fall freely and her body shakes with silent sobs.
It isn't a question but Mulan answers regardless.
"I know."
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"Would you go?"
"Where?"
"To Storybrooke. With Snow and Emma."
"No."
"Why not?"
"It is their world, not mine. I belong here."
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"Do you hate it here?" The question is simple.
Emma shuffles her son away from Mulan, casting the warrior an apologetic look. "Henry we don't ask people questions like that."
"Why?"
"Because we just don't okay. Now do what you came here to do and then we've got to get you to school."
Henry nods and clambers into the chair. He takes a moment to survey the figure caught in slumber before he reaches into his book bag. What he pulls out is a small card that looks oddly like the two currently present on the side table. "I made you this. A get well card you know." He places it next to the others on the table. "Get well okay." And he's out of his chair as quickly as he got in and almost out the door before he turns to pause. "You don't have to hate it here you know."
Mulan does not dignify his statement with acknowledgement or response and allows Emma to usher him out with another apologetic smile.
Life cannot merely be boiled down to love and hate. Mulan has learned this.
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"What are they like?"
"Who?"
"Your family. Those you left in your homeland."
"Kind. Compassionate."
"Do you miss them?"
"I do."
"Why do you not return?"
"Life is not that simple Princess."
"Why not?"
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It has been nearly a two weeks since they arrived in Storybrooke and little has changed.
The sun still comes and goes almost as often as the rain.
People come. People go. Few stay.
The monitor continues to beep.
On the battlefield calm and monotony when indulged lead to a lethal idleness. Mulan has seen it, lost scores of valuable men to its allure. Some wandered off in drunken stupor, claimed by the elements. Others too lost in sleep, throats slit before they've even a chance to reach consciousness.
And so Mulan waits, no less vigilant than the day they entered Storybrooke. For the calm is finite.
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"Mulan, I am more than capable to fend for myself."
"Perhaps, but that does not mean I will cease to protect you."
"I am not a child. I do not need protection."
"Nor do I think you one. You are a woman of her own body and mind whose life is a gift and as such must be treasured and protected, no matter the cost."
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When it strikes it isn't in the dead of night and Mulan isn't alone.
It arrives in the form of a sudden spike - the heart monitor erratic.
Sword in hand, Mulan is ready.
Emma scampers to the wall as tugs madly at some cord and within moments the door jars open and the room is a cacophony of sounds and bodies.
Mulan makes for the first but finds herself hindered by the full weight of Emma Swan upon her. Her first thought is that Emma has betrayed her, betrayed them, and she so tucks and pivots and a frenzy of limbs and body collide unceremoniously with the weak wall.
Mulan moves toward the crowd that surround the bed but she doesn't make it a step before Emma lunges and together they go down.
"Emma enough! Release me now and live."
"No! You can't kill them Mulan. Unless you've got some super secret healing power hiding under all that armour they're all she's got!"
Amidst the struggle Emma manages to pin Mulan's sword and arm but her flank is exposed and Mulan does not hesitate. Heavy, swift and near deadly. And Emma is down and in a battle for air. But she doesn't relent and Mulan finds herself unable to rise.
"Dahmm... fu... Mu...lan. I'm... I'm on your side!"
"No, you chose your allegiance and it does not align Emma Swan."
"Just please, Jesus Mulan, believe me. This is why you're here, this is why you came through the portal! She was dying Mulan!"
"Because of you!"
"Yes, because of me, but she's not, not now. But I swear to you Mulan, if you kill them then might as well be killing her."
Mulan stills instantly. The notion is absurd and yet suddenly air ceases to exist.
A cry so guttural, so primal and so pained cuts like a blade and suddenly Mulan isn't just without air, she's also bleeding and breaking.
"Mulan! Mulan! Mulan!"
Mulan is there without hesitance. "I am here Princess."
"Mulan. I... where... This doesn't feel right. My eyes, they won't, they won't stay open Mulan. I can't."
Mulan's gaze shifts and falls upon the supposed medicinal healer, the man Emma had continuously advocated as a saviour, and she needs no words to convey her thoughts.
"Sedation was necessary." He rebukes, his hands helds in a show of surrender. "It is only temporary."
He is a man of perverse moral without a stitch of honour or code and how Mulan wishes she could remove the upward curl to his lips. Permanently.
"Please, don't make me sleep Mulan."
"It will only be temporary I promise you Princess and when you awake I will be here."
"P-promise?"
"Nothing could take me from you, I promise. Rest my Princess, I will protect you."
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"I would protect you."
"Princess?"
"I may not possess the physical and instinctual skill sets that you or Snow or even Emma are endowed with but I promise you I would protect you. If necessary, I would die to protect you."
"Don't."
"Mula-"
"Do not die for me for that is not protection but torture. I would rather fight a thousand wars over then face a world without you. Your smile guides me. Your laughter nourishes me. Your warmth shelters me. You are my armour and blade my Princess and your existence is my protection."
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