Cold (1/1)
(AN: An anon tumblr prompt. AU Enchanted Forest while on the Quest for Phillip's soul.)
The princess sat on a boulder at the edge of the fire's flickering light, her eyes distant and darkened by the shadows of the woodlands. The pitch black sky-which should have been dotted with multitudes of stars-was obscured by a dusky grey pall of clouds, making the forest appear a far more menacing and lonesome place than usual. The thin light of the waning crescent moon spread its filtering fingers down over the land, its light choked and strangled by the pervading darkness. Far away a nightjar whistled, keening forlornly at the high unyielding pines as the princess sat lost in thought.
The fire spit and crackled, tossing cinders high into the night air as another log splintered, succumbing to the hungry lick of the flames. The red sparks danced like tiny fairies, whirling on the currents of thermal air and spiraling upwards. Up and up they skittered, silhouetted in bright stark relief against the moon's frail illumination until fizzling out and finally fluttering to the earth as bits of ash and dust.
Funny. Aurora mused. People are so very like cinders. Flaming hot with desire, reaching high for what they think they want, before burning themselves out.
The princess heard the soft cat-like creep of doeskin boots over sandy soil and leaf litter, but did not turn round. The light step bespoke her warrior's arrival as Mulan returned from another of her circuitous watch rounds. The swordswoman had taken to pacing large circles in the woodlands, patrolling the area surrounding the campsite supposedly for the 'increased safety of us both'.
Aurora had the sneaking suspicion that the woman craved the solitude to sort out her thoughts rather than face down bandits or beasts.
"All's clear." Came the familiar report, as the guardswoman crouched down, squatting on her knees and rubbing her hands over the fire. The princess replied with a disinterested burble of sound through closed lips.
Mulan massaged each finger, flexing and stretching the digits one-by-one, eager to chase away the numbing frosty touch of night. Her leather gloves, though sturdy and strong, were not fur lined and could not keep out much of the chill.
"Do you ever think about him?" Aurora whispered, half to herself. Her azure eyes, normally so crystal clear and keen, were misty and far away.
Mulan's eyes narrowed, vexed by the unusual shift in topics and the princess' odd frame of mind. A tiny crease marred her forehead as her hawk-like gaze bored into the girl who sat mere meters away, yet seemed so far from her grasp.
It was, Mulan noted, as if no matter how hard she tried to reach, Aurora would continue to slip through her fingers, smoke-like and intangible. The princess saw things in the places between worlds: Waking nightmares and shadows of the past.
The words of an ancient hymn tittered at the edges of the warrior's consciousness. "You're so very far, my love…so very far away."
Aurora did not meet her gaze.
"Who, princess?" The warrior asked, drawing herself up with a groan and busying herself with collecting a few twigs to toss into the fire. She shifted subtly to the girl's side, praying that her own nearness and solidity would draw the princess from her dark and shady reveries.
"Phillip." The quiet reply knifed through the still night air.
Mulan froze, muscles tensing with the sound of creaking leather. Unconsciously her jaw flexed, grinding the warrior's teeth, while gloved fingers coiled into loose fists.
Flashes sliced across her mind's eye: the opalescent soul being rent from its vessel, as the prince slumped to the ground like a lifeless husk. The hot tears that burned on her flushed cheeks. The wail that had torn itself from her chest as she bellowed his name in those final moments. Her voice stolen beneath the weight of guilt, shame, and fear.
"Promise you'll take care of each other." He had said, pausing, his cocoa brown eyes meeting hers. Time slowed, as he pleaded, and she gave him her silent solemn vow. Then everything had tilted wildly, spiraling out of control, as Aurora's scream splintered reality into jagged shards and the prince lay dead in the dirt.
The warrior bit the inside of her cheek, letting pain burn away the emptiness inside.
It should have been me.
"Every day." The gravely truth rumbled roughly, hitching as it slid from her throat. "Phillip was...IS... a good man. He gave his life to save both of us." The warrior spoke, struggling to keep her voice from wavering under the heavy weight of hidden sorrow.
"Do you think…do you think we'll actually be able to save him?" The timbre of the princess was reedy and high, her hope tempered with equal amounts of despair
"I don't know, princess." Mulan answered candidly. "I just… don't know." She shook her head, ebony ponytail swaying in the darkness.
"What happens if we don't?" The princess whispered. The warrior paused, suddenly nervous at where the sudden turn in conversation. Her heart skipped a beat, and tempting thoughts whispered through her mind.
Then we can be together.
"We'll find him. And then you both can be married. And live happily ever after." Mulan's redirected answer sounded rehearsed and hollow. It skirted elegantly around the question and fed back a safe and platonic response. A stale sentiment that had been repeated so many times that it had lost meaning.
The princess rounded suddenly, her dark brows drawing together as eyes of ice studied the warrior with keen scrutiny. "Mulan." She opened her mouth, words and admissions dancing on the tip of her tongue.
The warrior watched as something flashed in the princess's azure eyes of crystal blue. Something forbidden and wild was struggling there, Mulan could see it warring and roiling just beneath the surface. Whispers of the heart long buried and striving to be heard.
"Yes?"
It should never have happened this way. Mulan kept her face guarded as her thoughts churned like thunderclouds over a stormy sea. Not with her.
The princess was his. Phillip had made her swear to protect. Nothing more.
Warriors weren't supposed to feel. Not friendship. Not love.
Yet, still, in the flickering shades of the campfire, something dark and repressed reared to life, stirring in her loins and hissing up her spine with an electric hum. Her fingers twitched anxiously in her gloves, palms growing sweaty despite the coolness of the midnight air.
She waited, gazing steadily into the limpid pools of her princess's eyes and praying to all the ancestors above that her regent could not see the hunger that roiled deep in the pit of her soul.
Aurora hesitated a long moment before snapping her lips closed with a pop. Her clear eyes grew glassy again.
"Never mind." She mumbled, turning back and away from the fire to stare outwards into the woods, retreating into herself again. Silence regained between the pair like an empty, icy, and unfathomable gulf.
"You're cold." The warrior spoke, nodding towards the tremble of the princess's shoulder. A gloved hand ran across the fair goose-flesh, feeling the shudders as they quaked through Aurora's frail frame.
"No. I'm fine." The princess shook off the touch, clutching her thin shawl about herself and crossing her arms defiantly over her chest.
The warrior silently rolled her eyes at the younger girl's obstinacy. She pulled of a glove. Hardened fingers already numb to the night's biting chill, reached up to unfasten the brass catching beneath her ornately leather-tooled breastplate.
"Here. Take this." The heavy burgundy burden of Mulan's cloak fell across her thin shoulders, and the warrior's trembling, unsure touch wrapped the princess into its protective folds.
"But... What about you? Won't you catch a chill?" Aurora asked, her blue eyes wide in surprise at the warrior's generosity.
"No. I'll be fine…" the warrior lied. "Keep it, it will protect against the weather."
Gods knows, everything else of mine has always been yours to claim, princess. Came the whispered intent, silent and woven deep between her words.
Aurora snuggled deep into the heavy cape, drawing it about her shoulders.
"If we find him…will you…will you stay?" There was something in the princess's face that both thrilled and terrified the warrior. Expectancy. Hope. Pleading mingled with an undercurrent of longing.
Cerulean eyes begged silently. Stay. Please stay. For me. Do not leave me to face this cold world alone.
Mulan turned her back, awkwardly checking her sword to make sure it was free in its scabbard and adjusting it on her hip.
"You should get some sleep, Aurora. It'll be morning soon." The warrior admonished before turning on her heel, and stalking off into the shadows of the forests, content to remain alone with her thoughts on her solemn watch once more.