AN: I figured I needed to make it up to you guys, since last chapter was so dang short. :)

The market was laid out in a rough square, with shop fronts at the perimeter. Stalls of various vendors were laid out along the roadside and in haphazard rows. There was little order, and the throng of buyers and sellers was a mish mash of citizens from all walks of life. It was, in a word, overwhelming. The morning's silence was shattered by squalling children and vendors wailing out the sales of their wares. Aurora was momentarily unsettled by the ebb and flow of the rabble clamoring for space. It was hot, dusty, and crowded in the throngs of people, with little space for maneuverability.

She took a breath, steeled her nerves, and plunged into the press of people. She clumsily tried to weave and dodge, but her dress was not made for much more than looks. It greatly reduced her maneuverability. Thankfully she was able to wrestle against the current, like a fish swimming upstream, and staggered onto the stoop of an old decrepit apothecary shop.

The storefront was covered in faded hunter green paint that had been bleached by the sun and was peeling away from the wood in long curling strips. Dingy yellow lettering read "Jameson and Jameson's Apothecary! ALL AILMENTS CURED!" A tiny bit of paper taped to the window read "Open for business".

Aurora reread the scrolled yellow text and muttered to herself. "Hmm…All ailments cured…"

Perhaps, she thought, this could be the answer to her sleepless nights…Surely a peek couldn't hurt. She told herself that she'd certainly have enough time to find the other items on the supply list a bit later in the day.

Her heart lightened at the thought of being able to drift soundlessly, undisturbed, in a full blissful night of sleep. Her muscles twitched in eagerness, and she grasped the large brass door handle, yanking it open. The tinkle of a bell heralded her entry as she stepped inside.

The shops interior was much like its exterior: Dusty, old, and worn. The air smelled of mothballs and the tang of herbal remedies. Dust motes playfully swirled in shafts of sunlight, and skipped across the long wooden countertops. A chubby faced balding man sat at the counter. His hair was a salt-and-pepper grey, and the remnants of sideburns covered his jowls in prickly patches.

"Be right with ye." He called, eyes not looking up from his work. Hard callused hands were busily measuring out spoonfuls of ground green powder and sifting it into a bubbling vial of bluish liquid. Deft fingers plunked a cork into the bottle's stopper and shuffled the bottle onto a display case labeled 'wart removal'. He wiped his meaty hands on his apron, and turned to his newest customer, plastering on his best salesman smile.

"What can I get for ye, miss? A love potion perhaps? Though a fine young lady like yer self probably has many suitors. A bit o' pixie dust? We just got in a new shipment o' the stuff. A fist full will give anyone a fine set o' mule ears for nigh a week!" he chortled happily, rounding the counter and coming to usher her further into the shop.

"Erm...no, nothing like that, sir. I was hoping to ask if you sold things to help cure nightmares." Aurora requested as the heavy arm of the man laid itself amicably around her back, like a bird taking its young one under a wing.

The jolly old shopkeeper patted her, lovingly, "Oh, now, ye can call me Jameson, ma'am."

"I'm uh… Rose." Aurora lied, unconvincingly. Jameson appeared not to notice.

"Nice ta meet ye Miss Rose. And o'course I got potions to cure nightmares! All sorts! Let me see what we've got." He angled her towards a row of shelves labeled 'Sleeping draughts'. Thousands of bottles and jars covered the shelves.

"Which one will work?" Aurora muttered half to herself, eyes roving the multitude of glassware, powders, liquids, dried herbs, totems and enchanted baubles.

Jameson laughed "Har Har! Well all of 'em work right enough, but each one is for a different sort o' dream. This one here," he indicated a desiccated flower in a masonry jar "is called Summer's Cloud. It'll make ya feel as if ya can fly every time ye close yer eyes. It'll also knock ye out cold if ya grind it up and slip it into a drink."

Aurora studied the flower closely, but saw nothing remarkable about it. Fascinating that such a little thing could do something so unusual. She turned away from all the vials.

"I need something a bit different. A bit stronger."

Jameson nodded "Well, if ye don't mind me asking, Rose. What kind o' dreams are ye havin'?"

"Nightmares. Horrible nightmares." Aurora shuddered "They're an aftereffect…of a sleeping curse."

Jameson's smile melted like snow in the summer sun. His large jolly jowls grew suddenly serious, and his twinkling beady eyes grew flinty and hard at the mention of a curse. Aurora was just about to take a half step back, and move for the door, but the terrifying darkness that had flitted across Jameson's face was gone just as quickly as it had come.

"Well then, I know just the thing. Let me go an' get it for ye!"

"Oh wonderful! I have a few rabbit skins to trade you for your troubles." Aurora clapped her hands eagerly, reaching for the pelts at her belt.

"Nonsense, Miss Rose. Complements of the house. I do it for all my first-time customers." He surfaced from the back storage room with a vial, and handed it over. "Here's to a good night's sleep!" He chortled cheerfully, though his eyes retained the flinty hardness from before.

Aurora took no notice. The little vial in the man's hand promised her relief from all her terrors. All she had to do was take it. Her fingers grasped the cool glass, and in a quick swig, the liquid burbled down her throat. She sucked down every drop of the sweet liquid down hungrily. Slapping the empty vial on the counter, she grinned wildly. Hope fluttered in her heart. Her prayers had been answered.

"Now, what'd ya say yer name was again, ma'am?" Jameson purred, a predatory note creeping into his voice.

"Rose." Aurora replied. Her brow furrowed, curiously…a tingling sensation was creeping heavily into her hips and legs. They felt heavy.

"Funny. Tha's an aweful common name for someone with such a pretty dress. Ya see, my son's a tailor. An' I know finery when I sees it. There's only a few people aroun' here that can afford such niceties as yer wearin'." Jameson gripped her wrist, pulling her to the counter as her legs seemed to become lethargic.

The Summer Cloud. Her subconscious whispered several moments too late. Fear thrilled in Aurora's heart, and her blue eyes filled with a flash of momentary terror. Her knees collapsed under her weight, and feet ignored all commands to run. Her spare hand fumbled for the hilt of her dagger, which she always kept hidden in the folds of her dress, but clumsy tingling fingers could not grasp its tooled brass hilt.

"An' there's only a few people who's ever been under a sleeping curse before. I can count 'em all on one hand…and funnily enough, the queen's men've all got pretty nice ransoms for royalty." Jameson hissed, leaning over.

Aurora's head was beginning to spin. Her vision was blurring into shifting colored shapes, and her tongue felt slow and lethargic. "B-but Regina isn't here…" she gurgled, trying to make sense of the man's words with her fuzzy brain. Her mind felt as if it had been stuffed with sheep's wool.

"Not Regina, m'lady. Queen Cora. She calls the shots 'round here now." He growled, circling the counter, and lifting up the featherweight of the princess and hoisting it over a thick shoulder. He began shuffling towards the back storage room, unaware of her erratic twitching which was all the fight she could muster from her dead unresponsive muscles.

"An' could gladly do with a sack o' gold for my family." Jameson murmured. "My apologies m'lady. It's just business. Nothin' personal."

Aurora's head pitched forward, and the last thing she could recall thinking was that Mulan would undoubtedly be exceedingly cross.