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Chapter X

The After Party

The party ended abruptly after Esmeralda and Prince David exchanged words. Mulan did not know much about the politics or culture of Storybrooke, but she did know one thing. Had she ever spoke to an adult as Henry Mills did when she had been ten, she would not have survived to become an adult. She kept this thought to herself, though.

Emma Swan returned to the party but was lost in her own thoughts and paid little attention to the tense faces or jangling nerves in the room. She bid her goodbyes and she, her parents and her son left the Diner. The dwarves, or at least a handful of them decided to continue their festivities at The Rabbit Hole. When she asked, Belle told her it was the local tavern. Belle was also ready to go, though she had been since her argument with Ruby Lucas. She was still glaring at the tall brunette from across the room. Mulan would happily run into battle naked armed only with a table knife to avoid being drawn into an argument between two women.

A soft hand touched her arm and she turned to see Aurora. The Princess smiled at her and Mulan inclined her head.

"It's nice that your friend is being so kind." Aurora grasped her own elbows and turned to look at her parents for a moment, "but should it not work out, you are always welcome at my home." Mulan could see Aurora's parents out of the corner of her eye and from their facial expressions she doubted that what Aurora was saying was true. "It isn't a castle, but a blue manor house on Forest Avenue. There is a lovely garden in the front." Though she was listening to Aurora, her attention was on the woman's mother. She and the former Queen were staring at each other over Aurora's shoulder. The woman's expression made it very clear that an army of ogres would be more welcome in her home.

"Mulan?"

Soft hands captured her calloused ones, slender tapered fingers tangled with hers. She refocused on the woman in front of her and felt her lips tug into a small smile.

"We're still a team, right? You and I."

Ah, Prince Phillip's rescue, their quest. It had, for a brief moment, slipped her mind.

"Of course, Princess."

Aurora's smile, full and true, made Mulan lose her breath for a moment. Their hands parted and it felt like her body's warmth fled when her princess withdrew. No, Mulan sternly reminded herself, Phillip's princess. Her friend, her Lord Prince, the reason for her quest. Aurora had always and would always belong to Phillip and she was sworn to reunite them. They were each other's True Loves and she was a fool.

"Good night, Princess."

She watched Aurora join her parents and then disappear through the door. Though it was insanity, betrayal and an impossibility, Mulan felt a piece of her heart go with her.

"Are you ready to go?" Belle smiled, a somewhat sad and resigned expression, at her.

"Indeed."

The tip of the Cuban cigar glowed in the dark room like a red-hot cherry.

"It sounds like it was a lively party. A pity I wasn't invited." Albert Spencer, or King George as he preferred to be addressed, sat in a plush wingback chair by the roaring fireplace.

"Well everyone took you off their e-vite list when you murdered that mouse." A black gloved hand swirled brandy around a crystal sniffer, "Not that you were popular with that crowd in the old days either. Didn't you try to execute that pretender you were trying to pass off as James at least twice?" Alexander Emery looked very different then his former self. His long golden curls had been cut short and rigidly gelled into submission. He was clean-shaven and dressed in a starched white oxford shirt. The only connection to his former self was the single glove he wore. The return of magic to Storybrooke had given King Midas his golden touch back, whether he wanted it or not.

"Regina saved him for her own devious purposes."

"And look how that turned out. Leave it to a woman to leave things half-done."

Stephen, still dressed in the clothes he'd attended the party at Granny's in, poured himself another drink. "Xavier would roll over in his grave if he saw his bloodline reduced to her."

George raised his glass, "To Xavier, one of the truly great Kings. What was it he used to say?" He paused, "Ah yes, love is weakness. Smart man." The other two men raised their glasses.

"His mistake," Midas grumbled, "Was letting that son of his marry a witch."

Stephen drained his drink, "Cora. She's was a frigid little peasant, but she could produce gold from straw. What's a man to do? She ruined Henry, walked all over him."

"He was weak, it was a good thing he was so far down the line of secession." George scoffed and puffed on his cigar, "But we still saw Regina rise as Queen." He shook his head, "I will never understand what Leopold saw in the wench."

Midas threw back his head and laughed as he prepared his own cigar by cutting the tip with an elegant gold instrument. "I do. He was a widower and she was a hot blooded eighteen year old beauty. Did you ever see her at court? Absolutely stunning."

"And evil." Stephen added darkly, "The woman is the devil incarnate."

"She wasn't so bad" George mused as he lit his own cigar, "when Leopold was still alive. The man was a mess over Eva and Snow, but he certainly held Regina's reigns tight."

"Perhaps too tight. If she had followed through and killed her step-daughter we wouldn't be stuck here in this little slice of purgatory playing the parts of businessmen and fools." Midas was especially bitter about the curse. His daughter had been cast as a victim and he had not liked that at all. His Abbigail was no one's puppet.

"We won't be for much longer." Stephen refilled his glass and offered the decanter of aged brandy to the other men. "Snow and her Shepard Boy are losing people's confidence. Their inner circle remains intact, but the rest of the town is a little tired of fighting a war for their happiness."

Midas took a refill and swirled it around, "And Regina?"

Stephen refilled George's glass and put the decanter back on the sidebar, "Far too interested in her son and the gypsy to worry about anything else."

"Gypsy?"

Midas's voice was guarded, but both of the other Kings could read the surprise in his voice.

"Yes some filthy mongrel named Esmeralda. She was apparently Regina's nursemaid. Honestly, that explains so very much about The Evil Queen."

It was hard to tell in the firelight, but Midas could feel every ounce of color drain from his face and his gloved hand curled into an unintentional fist. He felt each of Stephen's words like a punch to the gut. Esmeralda was in Storybrooke. Old resentment rose in his belly. The Gypsy bitch was back.

"I see." He fought to bring his face back under control. It would do no good to have the other two men know of his dealings with gypsies and their magic. Specifically this gypsy and the curse she'd laid on him years before. The curse he'd asked for, his golden touch.

"My daughter told me that Cora is also in Storybrooke with some pirate."

"Cora" A new and feminine voice, announced "is only interested in Regina and the boy she raised, Emma Swan's bastard." Leah glided into the cloud of cigar smoke and testosterone with the same grace she had wielded as a Queen in a ballroom. She plucked the decanter of brandy from her husband's hand and tossed the alcohol back with one smooth snap of her wrist. "Trust me, she will not bother us. She might even be an asset to our cause."

Stephen regarded his wife with an unreadable expression, "Aurora?"

The cold façade of a queen was momentarily replaced by a mother's warmth, "Upstairs asleep."

"I should bring Abbigail over one day, they used to get along famously." Midas grinned, "It is too bad that we both had daughters-" He let the thought go unfinished.

"Save the family talk." George's voice was sharp, like broken glass. "No one has explained to me how we're going to get rid of Snow and her Pretender. It's not as though I can send an army after them now."

Leah chuckled as she poured herself a drink from the side bar, "Men. Always thinking with your swords. Have twenty-eight years in this realm taught you nothing?" She stepped forward and stood beside her husband's chair, like a queen standing beside a king on his throne. "We won't have to lift a finger. This world is controlled by a different kind of power. Isn't that right?"

She turned her head to look into the darkness by the open doorway she'd come through.

"Knowledge has always been power, Your Majesty." Sidney Glass, gaunt from his time in the asylum, stepped into the light. "But here it is especially useful. People believe everything they read in the newspaper."

George turned to stare at the disgraced newsman, "And you think you know enough to help us?"

A wide smile stretched across Sidney's sunken face, "But of course, I am after all, the man in the mirror."

The mechanical ticking above her head ground into her skull like the hoof beats of a cavalry. Mulan stared at the dark ceiling, unable to sleep. Belle had offered her the couch to sleep on, blankets and a soft pillow. It was everything she could possibly want in a bed after years on the road and years before that in the Imperial Army. She was tired, exhausted, beyond her usual limits of weariness, but she still could not sleep. Why couldn't she sleep?

She looked down at the floor beside her where her sheathed sword lay, ready to be taken up at a moment's notice. She doubted an army would break down a librarian's door. Storybrooke was a surprisingly quiet place, devoid of the chaos that had plagued the ruins of the Enchanted Forest. If this was a curse, Mulan reflected wryly, it did not seem so horrible. Belle had explained it to her. Most of the citizens had spent the last twenty-eight years living their lives with false memories. Where would she have fit in here? What would her false memories been like? She would not remember her family, but neither would she have remembered her dishonor. She wouldn't remember the camaraderie she'd found in the Imperial Army. She would forget the pain of her shame and the horror and disgust on her battle brother's faces when her true sex had been revealed. Here she would have been someone else, a fisher or a green grocer, perhaps. People would smile at her and welcome her instead of staring with suspicion.

It was foolish to think about these things, though. She had not been cursed, she had no such memories and to wish that she had was disgraceful. She rolled off the couch and landed silently on the balls of her feet. She was too confined, too closed in. She needed to see the sky and feel the wind. She needed to go for a long walk to clear her head.

She slid her feet into her boots, one of the items she refused to trade out for something more modern, and quietly let herself out of what Belle called an apartment. The stairs that lead from the alleyway behind the library to the apartment were solid and she went down them without a squeak or clatter of loose metal.

It was late, the stars were twinkling above her head and the Storybrooke streets were deserted. The large clock whose ticking had kept her awake, told her that it was just after midnight. She walked without a destination, the sword she had taken from her father's collection so many years before strapped to her side.

Storybrooke, Belle had told her that afternoon, was in a place called Maine which was a part of something called the United States of America. Only it wasn't. The Queen's curse kept the town separated from the rest of Maine by a magical barrier. The Queen, though, was not a queen here. She was a Mayor, or a low lord. She hadn't looked very powerful, Mulan mused. The woman that had been known far and wide as The Evil Queen looked defeated. When she had stumbled towards herself, Aurora and Esmeralda and had looked like death. She had met the woman's eyes, brown clouded by green magic, and recognized the look in them. The Evil Queen had been ready to die. She had been stronger when Mulan had seen her tonight, but the look in her eyes had been only a little less devastated. She had been uncomfortable, especially when she had caught The Evil Queen watching Aurora. She had felt the urge to move across the room and protect the princess from her gaze. Only, she realized, the look in the woman's eyes had not been dark or malevolent. It had been hurt, and wanting. After the way Henry treated her it must have hurt to see a mother and daughter so close and happy.

Mulan knew what it was like to ache for familial love. Her own mother had cast her out of their family. Cora, the witch who stole hearts and laughed about it, could not have been very loving mother either. It disturbed her to think that she and a woman who had brought an entire world to its knees, might have something in common.

The sound of what Belle had told her was a car broke her out of her thoughts. She ducked around a fence, not sure how far away she needed to be from the machine to not be injured. She looked around at her surroundings for the first time in what seemed like hours. A large blue manor house met her gaze. It boasted a large front garden full of flowers and a sign beside the door declared it to be the home of the Weathersby's. Aurora's parents cursed names, of course. Her feet had led her to Aurora no matter what had been going through her head.

The front door opened and she darted around the side of some tall bushes. It would not do to be found in Aurora's parent's yard in the middle of the night with no explanation. She watched between the leaves of a shrub she had no name for as three men left the manor. It was very late for visitors, especially since the Weatherly's had just left a party. It was dark, but Mulan was positive that she did not know any of the men that set out in different directions. A small spark of concern shot up her spine. Her instincts, honed by years of war and secrecy, told her that this was not a good thing and those were not trustworthy men. Anyone who felt it necessary to come and go under the cover of darkness could not be up to anything honorable. She had to check on Aurora, just to be sure.

She walked around the side of the house, careful to be silent. The western wall of the house was covered with a trellis that had vines full of small flowers growing on it. They smelled sweet and that made her smile. Aurora should always be surrounded by beauty. Her room would be on the top floor, like any good princess. Mulan looked at the trellis and was suddenly glad she was not weighted down by her armor. She planted her boot on the first rung of the wooden trellis and it held her weight. She climbed the side of the house as quickly and quietly as she could. Looking for a sleeping princess, if Phillip had been at her side, it would be just like old times.

She eased herself onto the roof and saw that there was only one window that she could get to. She pressed herself to the wall beside the window. She peeked around the window and went still. The body lying in the bed was achingingly familiar. Aurora lay sleeping, and from what Mulan could see in the moonlight, it was not peaceful. She had fallen back into the fire realm. No! She sank her fingers into the small gap between the window and it's sill. She grit her teeth and the window slid up with a small squeak of protest. She entered the room silently and slid to her knees beside Aurora's bed. The princess's face was lined with worry and pain. A small whimper escaped her lips and Mulan felt as though she had been elbowed in the chest. She reached into the pouch that rode on her sword belt and brought out a small stub of a candle. She remembered Snow's words and lit the candle with a match and shaky fingers. She paused for a moment then went back to her pouch. An incence stick quickly joined the candle on the bedside table. She pressed the stick into the already softening wax and smiled when it stood on its own. She lit it using the candle, then blew out the flame. Fragrant smoke started to rise and Mulan smiled. She reached out and allowed herself to stroke Aurora's cheek. "A light to guide you home and jasmine and amber to soothe you, my princess." There were words she would never say to Aurora were she awake.

Aurora smiled in her sleep and her face smoothed, her nightmare had come to an end.

"Phillip."

She would never be hers. Mulan stroked the woman's cheek and pushed the strand of hair back and behind the woman's ear. She tugged the blanket up over her shoulder. She padded softly back to the window and let herself out. She closed the window and stood still for a moment, crouched outside the window, staring in at the woman that would never ever be hers.

She dropped over the side of the house and hoped she could find her way back to Belle's lodging.

Had she stayed a moment longer she would have seen Aurora roll in her sleep. One bare arm broke out of the covers and in the midst of her slumber, reached for something or someone that was not there. Princess Aurora whimpered out the warrior's name before falling into a deep, peaceful sleep.