Summary: Mulan makes an unusual discovery, and a dangerous encounter forces the girls to make a difficult decision.

AN: a fairly long-ish chapter. The good stuff (and my personal favorite part) will be coming in tomorrow's addition. ;)

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Mulan kicked a marble column with the toe of her boot, bored by the silence of the place. There was nothing here. Not a scrap. None of the worm-eaten old books strewn in the corners were of any help—most were catalogs of mapped territories, or dusty old pedigrees that traced the lineage of the noble houses. None even hinted at a clue for finding a way to reclaim a lost soul or resurrect a prince. This place was a dead end in more ways than one.

A tiny chunk of alabaster cracked beneath her incessant scuffing, crumbling to the floor.

'Just like everything else here.' Mulan mused. 'Falling apart at the seams.' She sighed, glancing up at the empty staircase and biting the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. Aurora had been quiet for quite some time. Perhaps it was time to go check on the princess's progress.

'No. Give her time. This is harder on her than it is on you.' Her thoughts hummed as she fought to reign in her anxiety at letting the princess stray from sight. 'Stand guard. Be loyal. She needs that from you, more than anything right now.' The warrior grunted some obscenity under her breath as she conceded to weigh logic over passion. Sadly, the recognition that Aurora needed to seek alone did not make the waiting any less tedious.

Her eyes flicked around the room, searching for something to capture her interest. Her sight caught on the heavy hilt of a mounted bastardsword placed high above the mantle on the corner wall. She sauntered over to inspect the weaponry.

At first glance the sword seemed rather mundane. The hilt was old and slightly rusted, while the blade was wide and thick. 'An unusual style of craftsmanship' Mulan thought, wistfully comparing it to thin, lean, tang of her own lost blade. She squinted at the dingy steel with a practiced eye, noting that while the surface seemed to be coated in a layer of grime, the metal itself was immaculate and unblemished.

Thinly scrawled words were etched into the wide divot of the fuller; the letters started about midway down the blade and spiraled their scripted spindly letters up to meet the bold, sweeping crossguard. She slid a hand to the pommel, supporting the weight of the sword gingerly as she lifted it up and out of the bracketed sconce for a closer look.

Mulan ran a gloved thumb over the dirt, scrubbing away the grit with a solvent made from her own spit. Her saliva swirled the aged crust into a muddy slime, clearing away most of the spooge and uncovering the delicate phrase hidden beneath.

"Ego sum spinam qui defendit rosam."

The warrior scrunched up her face, confused by the meaning of the unknown words in ancient script. She rolled the vowels and consonants in her mouth, tongue flicking against teeth as she whispered the lexis aloud to herself. The words were not of any language she knew…but somehow, deep inside, she felt their power.

She gripped the weight of the pommel into her palm, spinning it to her hand, and giving it a few slashing swings. It felt big, heavy, and bulky — so very different from the light, tempered, balanced weight of her own sword—- and yet there was something she liked about the strange piece, something that felt strong, safe, and secure. It was unyielding.

A grating, clicking sound of claws rasping over solid stone drew her gaze from the cool metallic beauty of the fine-edged blade.

A mangy old hunting hound slunk from a niche behind a pillar, presumably from a hidden hallway that lead towards the outdoor kitchens. His hoary, greyed muzzle was matted with fleas, dirt, and congealed blood. The lean creature seemed not to notice the warrior at first, and was content to shuffle about snuffling in search of rats that could be caught and devoured.

The warrior could see that his jutting ribs and boney hips stood out in stark relief beneath his grayed shaggy hide. The beast looked as if he had not been fed nor bathed in at least several months.

The dog shook himself, tattered ears flapping against his narrowed head, and stretched with a whine. His dark, mucous crusted, eyes squeezed shut for a moment as his spine and hips elongated to flex his tired muscles. He snorted, the puff of exhalation ruffling the long whiskery grey hairs that hung from his snout making him look oddly like a sleepy old man.

Mulan found herself chuckling at the dog's comical similarity to her ancient and bone-weary neighbor back home, Mr. Tsu— a grumpy old codger prone to grousing angrily to anyone who would listen.

Canine ears pricked as the wolfish head spun towards the sudden source of mirthful sound. His eyes caught her in his sights, zeroing in on the newcomer. Skinny tail stood out straight, trailing behind, as the hound paced closer to study the intruder.

"Easy now…nice pup…I don't want any trouble." The warrior coaxed,warily noting that the lean shoulder of the dog was at least the height of her hip. She motioned with a hand to try and shoo the creature off.

Black lips curled up and back, wrinkling the mutt's face into a feral snarl. The beast bared its broken, yellowed teeth and Mulan could see a slavering pink tongue wet with saliva and froth. Slobber and spittle dribbled from his maw, spattering wetly on the ground in reeking puddles as he teetered dizzily on pencil-thin legs.

The telltale signs of illness were not lost on the warrior. She quickly noted that the beast was sick with the foaming-mouth disease, an ailment that made dogs and foxes lash out viciously. A bite from the infected creature, she knew, could kill within three days.

The dog's head dropped low as the wiry hairs on its lean back and neck prickled, spiking up in aggressive bristling rage. The feral dog bayed—-howling as though it had spotted a minx in the brush. Barking ferociously at the strange two-legged creature that dared infringe upon its territory.

His ragged ears flattened flush to his skull as a rumbling growl slid from his feral throat. The sound grew in ferocity, piquing to a crescendo that echoed eerily in the dome-roofed throne room while the hound stalked closer.

Mulan shifted herself, taking a two-handed grip on the wire-wrapped pommel of the broadsword and bringing it up in front of her. She began to circle instinctively, reacting to the movement of the aggressor and trying to keep a fair distance between herself and the lupine jaws. She glanced towards the stairs, and silently prayed that Aurora would make no sound. Fear and trepidation clenched in the pit of her belly at the prospect of the dog shifting its malicious intent to the un-armed maiden.

The warrior slowly moved until her back was to the leftside staircase, and began to inch herself step by step towards the stairs. Her eyes never moved from her opponent, twin orbs focused with laser-like intensity, watching for any twitch of muscle that would signal the dog's attack. She stood between the hound and the princess, ready to defend. Ready to kill.

Her worst fears were realized in a matter of moments.

"Mulan?" called a voice from the balcony high above "I can't find any books on wraiths and I thought I heard something..what's going on?" the princess strode out from the library's antechamber, wiping thickly at flushed cheeks and wet eyes.

"Aurora! " Mulan's eyes flicked away for only a split second, turning to warn the maiden of the dangers and bid her run. The hound saw its opportunity and leapt, teeth bared, at his prey. The dense body of the wolfhound slammed into the warrior's chest, knocking her backwards.

The princess screamed as the warrior fell to the ground, body tangled and thrashing beneath the dog.

The beast pinned the swordswoman under its weight, jaws snapping, and face spattered with spittle. Mulan roared back angrily, baring her face into a fearsome snarl, as she instinctively threw out an arm to grip the feral creature by its massive throat. The warrior's battle reflexes kicked in as she twisted, wriggling out from under the hound and shoving him away, slashing wildly with her borrowed blade. The beast yelped and recoiled, dancing back out of range and starting to circle again. Mulan clamored to her feet and raced up the stairs, yelling and waving at the princess to move.

"Go, go. GO! Into the library!" She half ushered, half shoved the maiden ahead of her, tearing madly for the warren of shelves and tomes.

"Th-that was one of my father's old hunting hounds!" Aurora stammered incredulously. "Why would he attack someone like that?"

"He's diseased, 'Rora. He must have been bitten by something with the foaming sickness. We need to get out…"

Scrabbling of limbs and snarls followed quickly after as the beast leaped up the stairs, claws clattering on the marble as his lean, long legs took the steps two at a time.

"This way!" The princess grabbed the warrior's hand and they raced, zigzagging through lines of bookshelves, skidding around corners at a break-neck pace. The sound of hot wheezing pants and rumbling growls was hot on their heels as the hound followed. The creature's keen sense of smell and instinct blended with its maddened brain, giving it a single-minded purpose to pursue its prey. He howled, baying again as it leapt to the chase.

A tiny niche behind a decrepit old library clerk's desk was their target. The pair sprinted, tearing wildly for the wooden door and together they dove headlong for the tiny narrow stairway. They slammed the door closed on rusty hinges, just in the nick of time as the body of the slavering creature rammed itself against the worm-eaten wood with frustrated snarls.

"I think the door will hold…for a little while. Are you ok? You didn't get bitten, did you?" Mulan panted, supporting her weight with a free hand against the stone as she fought to catch her breath. A stitch cramped painfully in her right side, just below her ribs.

"I'm fine, what about yo—Wheredidyougetthatsword?" Aurora asked, the question burbling out in a rush. Her voice was breathy and her icy eyes suddenly locked onto the cold steel of the blade. The princess traced a finger down the blood-groove, the pad of her index finger skimming over the letters etched in the metal surface.

"From the throne room…it was on the wall." Mulan explained, pulling herself up to standing and holding the blade awkwardly between her upturned palms. "I don't know what the words mean."

"It reads 'I am the thorn that protects the rose'." Aurora whispered "This was my father's sword."

"Oh…My apologies. I didn't mean to—." Mulan moved to put the sword down, suddenly embarrassed to have brandished the blade of a king. "I should not have taken it."

Aurora's hand covered hers, stopping the motion.

"No…keep it. At least it will be given to better use if it is in your care." The princess murmured, her face serious. "You are in need of a sword anyways, since you gave yours to Snow in order to save me."

"Is there another way out?" the swordswoman asked, swiftly changing the topic to hide the ruddy flush burning in her ears. The princess's touch still sent her heartbeat into an arrhythmic syncopation. Mulan fought to slow her breathing, taking great care to focus and calm her aching lungs.

Inhale. Exhale. Slow. The warrior reminded herself as she dissolved into a fit of coughing. The princess's sudden closeness seemed to have robbed the swordwoman's brain of any recall on how to function properly. Mulan sputtered, finally gaining control of her hammering heart and lungs.

Aurora spoke, half in a whisper. "Yes. We can take a short cut. This stairway leads to a little study room, which lets out into the courtyard. If we cut across the dais, we can reach the stables."

The dais. The two words hung like ice in the air between them, freezing the blood in the warrior's veins.

"We don't have to go out through the courtyards…if you don't want to. The dog will leave eventually…" Mulan trailed off, studying the princess's face for any reaction. Feral snarls and the scrabbling of claws on wood came from behind the door as the beast searched for a method of entry.

"No. We must be away by nightfall. There could be more dogs about…my father was quite fond of hunting with wolfhounds, and I'd rather not face another. It would be best if we get back to the horses the quickest way possible." Aurora's response was clipped and she did not make eye contact. Her pale gaze was distant, peering into times unseen.

Mulan nodded her silent agreement, and breathed a tiny sigh of relief. The longer they stayed, the more melancholy Aurora seemed to become. The warrior secretly hoped that once they were free of these forgotten halls, things would surely feel more normal. "After you, m'lady." She murmured, sliding the sword home into her old scabbard, and sweeping a hand gallantly towards the tiny spiral of stairs.

The princess grimaced solemnly, her mouth pressing into a thin line, but her face still remained impassive and unreadable as her lilac skirts swept down the rough-hewn granite stairway, towards the antechamber below.

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