A Curse Upon Thee 2-21

A pitiful pile of orange embers stared back at him from his bedroll, the glow doing almost nothing against the gold glare of morning light already edging over the edge of the world and filtering through the trees.

Arms crossed behind his head, blue eyes stared straight up, up, and even higher up; nowhere else to look considering what was right in front of him.

Specifically, the braided twisting mass that was the giant beanstalk — the thing thicker all around than a couple Mack trucks with leaves the size of a solid sedan — piercing the low-hanging cloud cover right above them and disappearing even higher into the ceiling that was the sky.

A skyscraper-sized plant. Finn pulled a face as he even tried to consider the logistics of how that even worked, eyes peeking open for a moment at the impossibly ancient vegetation that somehow refused to creak or sway under its own size or weight. While his mouth had hung open more often than it didn’t that first hour, his awe had edged closer to annoyance over the span of a night without sleep.

But how, though? Judging by how birds didn’t seem to fly as high as what he could make out as the tippity-top, ‘skyscraper-sized’ was being nice about it. Bark braided over itself in green-brown ropes a dozen times thicker than his torso, wet in the seams and the sunlight, dark where swimming pools worth of what looked like tree sap had dried into streaks like blood.

Something like this…

It had been here longer than roads, the breadth and height of it enough to keep their little camp perpetually cool and under enough shade to be comfortable; leaves a false sky under and above the real one.

And it was exactly that — those simple facts — that made it so insane.

His eyes inched open just a little more, using the new illumination for its purpose, as he stared down at the ground around him and it. The earth around the stalk and under them looked almost ordinary until you paid attention; the grass showing the lie pretty quick. Nested circles of dark and darker green spread out, each one wide enough for a car to do donuts in.

No bushes grew in the first hundred yards.

No young trees in the second.

Nothing with roots deep enough to compete by the third.

…makes sense, I guess. 

Until it didn’t.

Grunting, he shut his eyes again, doing his best to ignore how — even with all that — the ground was perfectly flat around the thing as well. Because, apparently, root systems the size of entire buildings somehow just vanished when they went underground. And I thought jujutsu was weird. 

Curses might have been crazy, from what little he could remember of Kyoto, but he was pretty sure he could deal with weird monsters made from bad moods and giant eyeballs trying to eat random homeless kids a lot easier than he could deal with this.

He was supposed to be asleep. 

Supposed to have gotten at least a few more hours of rest, anyway.

Especially considering he had the next watch.

Unfortunately, his brain had long decided it had no intention of cooperating with his plans.

Seriously, though, a certain princess’s cursed nightmare had him on edge, Finn up the rest of the night thinking about curses in general before he actually tried parsing the weird fairy-tale madness of the last two weeks.

Like… I know they called the guy Jack the Giant Slayer, but genocide? His eyes rolled behind closed lids, annoyance at how dark and grim this world was turning out to be a slowly building pressure point. I know I didn’t want to be here but still… By the time he’d made peace with his situation — about a couple days into the whole Narnia adventure — he had expected fairies and talking animals and wishes. And all I’m getting is man-eating ogres, heart-ripping witches, and a history lesson on Giant Hitler.

After a second, he frowned at his own thoughts. Giant… Hitler? Hitler of Giants? Hitler for Giants? That frown only deepened as he shook his head. Fuck it. Giant Hitler.

With a silent huff, Finn opened his eyes to stare out at the sunlit camp.

Royalty had somehow found a way to rest, he noticed. Both Sleeping Beauty and Snow White were out cold on the opposite end of the dying fire, the princess asleep in the arms of the queen and the latter wrapped up in the silks of the first. Mulan… Mulan, on the other hand, was on active watch, having powered through the last six hours in the same criss-cross stance with her armored back perfectly straight. 

It was a little scary, honestly.

For all the woman could do a good stone face, it was crazier to see her do almost the same with her body.

With a quiet sigh, he shifted to look away from Ms Statue, rolling over to his other side to check on the other present member of their party; the girl lying next to him.

…need a name for you.

As much as that was true, Finn had held off from doing exactly that for a simple reason.

Mostly… well, he wasn’t sure she would live long enough for that to be an issue.

Dark as that sounded, the purple-haired survivor he’d pulled free from the massacred camp was still stubbornly unconscious. In fact, she’d almost look dead to the world if it wasn’t for the way her chest rose and fell in shallow hitching breaths, pale face half-buried in her shawl as she inched closer to him for warmth.

I mean, look at her. His jaw tightened as he did exactly that, a silent breath escaping through his nose. Is she under a curse, too? Because, like… three days without a bathroom break is crazy, right? 

It was.

It definitely was.

As far as he could tell, fairy-tale curses were built entirely different from jujutsu curses, so Finn couldn’t say for sure but he doubted his highly sophisticated medical strategy of aggressively dripping water and broth past her lips could last forever.

Before he could spiral further into the logistics of fairy-tale comas, the sound of movement pricked his ears.

Finn’s eyes flicked sideways to see Mulan finally break from her statue impression.

The armored warrior rose from the dirt, steps nearly silent; those dark eyes fixed on the thick braided roots they camped around. Her curved sword cleared its scabbard with as much noise as her own legs, but to Finn’s newly-peaked senses, she might as well have fumbled the blade to the floor. 

What is she—

Mulan stepped up to the base of the massive vine, steel raised high above her shoulder as she planted herself firmly in the mud.

“The fuck are you doing?”

She didn’t even get the chance to swing.

Finn closed the space, one step covering the distance that had taken her several. Mulan gasped, eyes going wide as her downward swing was halted in the air with five fingers locked around her wrist. 

“That’s a serious question by the way.”

Serious or not, Mulan was clearly in no mood to answer, the woman twisting her arm and torquing her shoulders in an attempt to break his grip. Finn stared her down, sure she’d have much better luck trying to force a rock down her throat.

“Again, seriously, that stalk’s thicker than dozens of you.” Finn bit back a flinch as a gauntleted fist crashed into his stomach. “What did you think you were doing with a sword?”

Eyes narrowed to slits, Mulan finally quit her struggling, jaw set as she met Finn with a rigid glare. “Emma left well before sunset and the sun has already risen.” The words were curt, Chinese-accented intonation landing flat against Finn’s ears. “It has been twelve hours.” 

“Probably. I don’t have a watch.” Finn tilted his head, wearing confusion with pride. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Emma gave me an order,” Mulan shot back, still trying to pull her wrist free. “After twelve hours, I cut down the beanstalk if she has not come back. It was her wish.”

His smirk slid clean off his face. “…Emma said that?”

“Yes.”

Of course she did. Finn chewed hard on the inside of his cheek, gaze flicking up the massive stalk into white clouds currently stained gold by the dawn. Fucking martyr. “How ’bout we give the Swan Princess another good half hour? Y’know, as a courtesy.”

From the look on her face, Finn might as well have called Mulan’s ancestors all bitches.

“Just stay back!” The woman dropped low, twisting her wrist.

Oh, come on! 

Letting go to keep her from breaking something, Finn was forced to dodge back as her other hand came flying up; the pommel of her blade on a direct arc to his temple.

“Emma gave me twelve hours!”

“She could have, sure.” Finn dodged back and away from another strike, no need to even flare his Cursed Energy. “I’m not gonna leave her to die, though,” a snort left his nose as he slipped inside her guard, “so… nah.”

“Twelve hours!” The warrior swung again, cold steel in a tight arc aimed at his shoulder. “She may already be dead!”

“And she might just be slow!” His counter came with a counter; Finn catching her sword arm by the elbow to halt the blade a second time.

Without wasting a moment, the sorcerer used her own momentum against her, a sweep of the leg knocking her off balance before a single palm sent her backward. With a groan, Mulan’s spine met the thick green hide of the beanstalk, eyes half-dazed. 

Before she could recover her footing or raise her sword to him again, Finn stepped into her space.

Mulan’s mouth opened as the woman choked for air, sword falling to the floor as she found herself pressed against the bark; a single forearm pressed against her collarbone.

Finn flashed a bright grin, face mere inches from hers as she strained against unnatural strength. “Not working out how you thought, huh?”

“L-let…” She gulped for air. “Let go of me.”

“I’m not even trying.” Finn’s grin widened. “That’s the thing.”

“What is the meaning of this?!”

The finely cut voice of a Princess Aurora sliced through the near-quiet clearing. “Sorcerer!” The princess bolted upright from her bedroll, the sounds of combat having woken her. “Release her at once!”

“Finn! Stop!” Mary Margaret was awake and on her feet a second later, her own tone stronger with an older inner firmness. “Let her go. What is going on?”

“Okay, hold up, wait…” Finn swallowed a mouthful of nothing, his arm still tight across Mulan’s collarbone. “I want you to know that I know how this looks.”

“It looks like you’re making an attempt to defoul my guard!” Aurora shouted back at him.

Defoul? Finn blinked.

“Whoaaaaa. Whoa whoa whoa, nobody’s defouling anyone here. Let’s tread lightly with that kinda talk, okay?” Finn glanced over his shoulder, grip on Mulan easing up just an inch. Mulan took that inch as permission and space to thrash just that little bit harder. Jesus. He sucked his teeth, a tch escaping him as Mulan attempted to bite at his nose. “Just stopping your bodyguard here from attempting to chop down the only stairway to Heaven, Snowy. Mulan’s trying to cut this thing d—”

A loud rustling from the thick canopy above cut his sentence in half.

All of a sudden, something — someone — came crashing out of the foliage, a body dropping the last dozen feet through the air and hitting a mound of packed dirt and mud with a thud.

A grunt left the mouth of the missing Emma Swan as she rolled off the pile on a short path through damp moss and dew-kissed grass, finally slowing to a halt in a crumpled, mud-caked heap.

“…ow.” Another groan left the woman, one hand coming up to cradle her shoulder. “Ow.”

Finn immediately dropped his hand from Mulan’s neck, spinning around on bare feet as he and the other women rushed over to where the blonde sheriff was lying in the dirt.

“Em.” Finn dropped to a low crouch beside her, staring his friend in the eyes. “You okay, boss?”

Emma pushed herself up onto her elbows, wincing as her shoulder took the weight. “Fought a giant and half-blind fell down a beanstalk.”

Fell? Finn blinked. “And you lived?”

“Not sure how exactly. Pretty sure I did.” The blonde pushed herself up, refusing Finn’s hand as she brushed dirt off the collar on her wrist. “Either this thing saved my life or you’re currently in communication with the Ghost of Emma Past.”

“From what you told me,” Finn hummed, “pretty sure the Ghost of Emma Past is meaner.”

“Fuck you too, Finn.”

He hummed again, eyebrows going up at the snap from Emma. “…that was a compliment?”

“It was?” Emma blinked up at him, mouth half-open. “My bad. Not to complain, but I’m pretty sure my brain is still rattling around a little bit.” She spat out a mouthful of dirt with a gag, green eyes roaming around the circle of gathered faces. “Everything go good down here?”

Finn stood up, wiping wet dirt off his black pants as he threw a glance at the warrior woman trying to kill him with a glare. Considering she had failed with a sword, Finn figured it was probably her best bet. “Depends on your definition.”

“I did exactly what you asked.”Mulan stepped forward, posture and pride forcing her spine perfectly upright. “Nothing more than that.” She looked down at Emma. “Did you get it?”

“Did I?” Emma dug one hand into the pocket of her ruined leather jacket to pull free a brass compass, holding the thing high. “Here you go.” With a grunt, she handed it over to the warrior while she struggled to catch her breath. “Keep it safe for me.”

Aurora stepped closer, a question on the princess’s lips for Emma. “And Captain Jones? Where is Hook?”

“Hook?” Finally deciding to take Finn’s hand, Emma hauled herself to her feet. The sheriff sighed before offering the girl a dry shrug. “He’s just a little tied up.”

“Hold on a minute!”

Mary Margaret stepped up into Emma’s path, voice suddenly harder than Finn had heard it since the aftermath of Cora. “You told Mulan  to cut it down?”

Emma shrank back just a little, blinking at the sudden heat in her mother’s voice. “Yes. I could—”

“We go back together!” Mary Margaret didn’t let her finish any excuse she had to give. Both hands slapped down on Emma’s shoulders, the short-haired brunette physically shaking her daughter. “That is the only way! Together or not at all! Do you understand?”

Emma stared at her mother, mouth opening softly for a second. “…yeah.”

Mary Margaret pulled her forward, Emma wrapped tightly in a matenal hug. Emma hesitated for a fraction of a second before hugging her back just as tightly.

Finn bit back the urge to ruin the moment, just smiling at the both of them as Mulan and Aurora turned away, moving to the edge of the clearing to pack and break camp.

“Good.” Mary Margaret pulled back to look her daughter in the eyes. “Now, let’s go get that dust from Cora.”

“Yeah,” Emma nodded, a genuine smile cracking her guarded face. “And then go home.”

Emma let out a long breath as she and Mary Margaret parted. A joint popped audibly, the woman wincing as she rolled her stiff shoulders. “Hey…” 

Finn blinked up as Emma made her way over to him. “Yo.”

“Thanks for the sword, by the way.”

Finn grunted, bending down to free his jacket from the sleeping girl. He flashed Emma a lopsided smirk as he slipped it on, fur collar warm against his neck. “You’re welcome?”

“No, really. Thanks.” Emma repeated, not an inch of sarcasm in her voice. “It shoots lasers.”

Finn froze.

The young man stood absolutely still in the mud, bare feet rooted to the earth as Emma walked right past him and across camp to meet her mother. 

“…what?”

 o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

Be A Man – 100 GP
Beat up a woman. In this case, Mulan.

[FAIL] Subspace​ ​Dimension​ (800) [Sailor Moon] {Domain} [FAIL]

Grimoire Points: 600