A Curse Upon Thee 2-26

Finn’s eyes snapped open the second the scream rang out. He didn’t bother jumping out of bed this time, no need to kick to his feet or reach for a weapon.

Instead, he just groaned from his bedroll. “Could somebody wake her up already?”

Aurora screamed out again, Finn joining in the noise with a groan of his own, the princess thrashing violently in the center of the camp.

“The fire!” Aurora gasped awake, pale hands clawing at her own forearms. “The room—he was there again!”

“Aurora, wake up. You are safe.” Mary Margaret was at her side again, for the third night in a row, grabbing hold of the girl’s shoulders. “Look at me.” 

“The flames!” The princess shoved her sleeve up her arm. “The flames… they were closer this time! Burned even hotter!”

With another groan, the redheaded sorcerer opened his eyes to take in the dark night and full moon above, rising to his feet simply to look. Huh. He didn’t need the dying embers of the campfire to see it; the red welt blistered, raw, and rough against her porcelain skin, even from where he stood.

“What the hell?” Emma’s hands found their way to her face, the blonde woman scrubbing the sleep from her eyes as she pushed herself up from her own bedroll. “Again?”

“The curse is worsening,” Mulan knelt beside the princess, spine somehow more rigid than usual as the woman held Aurora’s arm like it was a delicate flower. “At this rate, her whole body might suffer burns in a month’s time.”

A month… Finn frowned at the words that just left Mulan’s mouth and that frown only deepened the longer he kept his eyes around the princess’s arm, the burn more than just physical. I was right, though.

What he had told Mulan a night or two ago about Aurora’s curse, the residuals he was seeing from a fresh burn now only made him more sure. Sticky… It might not have been a curse from Cursed Energy, but it was close enough that the difference might as well have been completely pointless; the energy radiating outward from Aurora like an open oven door. 

“Yeah, a month might be…” Finn breathed out, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Too optimistic, not gonna lie.”

“Too opti…” Mary Margaret looked his way, a bleary-eyed Emma right behind her. “Can we stop it, then? Before the curse burns her in her sleep?”

The sound of Aurora’s sobs peaked, even with her buried deep in the crook of Snow Margaret’s shoulder. As loud as it was, Finn couldn’t even grudge her the waterworks or the volume, what with her life on the line. 

Painful death would bring that outta you. He frowned again, one hand rubbing his hairless chin as he allowed himself to think. But… But it wasn’t like there was nothing he could do about it, in this case at least. “I mean… If you’re willing to trust me…” Finn tilted his head, a thick red eyebrow hiking up toward his hairline. “I could probably fix it.”

Silence fell over the camp for a good few seconds before Emma Swan narrowed those green eyes his way. “Fix it how? You got magical burn cream in those tight leather pants?”

“Not leather and not exactly, boss.” Finn uncrossed his arms. “It’s a curse, right? Not a physical fire. She’s only getting burned because of the fact that the curse isn’t gone-gone. The residual cursed energy is still doing something to her.”

Emma’s lips tightened, sleep-addled eyes narrowing just a little bit more. “…your point?”

“I’m a sorcerer, Big Em.” A sigh left him, almost as loud as Aurora’s sobs. “Dealing with curses is literally in the job description.”

“You can remove it?” Mulan stood up from Aurora’s side to focus all her attention on him, the warrior woman as wary as he’d ever seen her.

“Exorcise it, yeah.” Finn corrected, pointing a scarred finger at the blistered skin. “…might be a little weird but I could do it.”

“You…” A pale face rose from Mary Margaret’s shoulder, streaked with tears. “You can banish the fire? Truly?”

“Pretty sure I can, Princess.” Finn tilted his head her way.

“Then do it.” Emma’s command came loud and strong, enough authority in it that Finn was surprised it came from a woman rubbing her eyes like a toddler. “Before she loses an arm to a bad dream.”

Still, though…

“Yeah, see…” Finn’s hand rose, palm rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to figure out how to explain the whole situation. “…there’s kind of a thing.”

“What?” Leaves rustled as Mulan stepped forward, dark eyes fixed on him. “What thing?”

“Well, see, the energy is buried deep.” Both of his hands went up in the universal gesture for ‘chill’, Finn trying to get an explanation out before Mulan got in one of her moods. “I can’t just wave my hands from over here and make it go away. The curse only affects her in her dreams and it’s not really active any other time.”

“…so, what?” Emma raised an eyebrow. “You have to remove it while she’s asleep.”

“Kinda, well…while she’s dreaming.”

That eyebrow went higher. “…oooookay?”

“And to do that…” He pulled a long hiss through his teeth, looking away for a split second. “I kinda have to make skin-to-skin contact with the source. Or, you know, extremely close to it.”

Aurora blinked at him, what was left of her composure warring entirely with her confusion. “What is it you are saying?”

“I’m saying,” Finn let out a breath. “…it’s a bit awkward, so stick with me on this.”

Mulan stepped fully between Finn and the princess. Her hand didn’t go for the sword at her side but her white-knuckled fists spoke enough about what she felt like doing either way. 

“What. Is. It.”

Finn dragged a hand through his voluminous red hair, staring at the warrior woman, the suspicious sheriff, the frightened princess, and the mother-hen queen. …there’s no good way to say this, is there?

Finn sighed.

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

Henry’s eyelids fluttered shut as Regina pulled the thick throw blanket up to his chin, quiet snores already sounding out through the living room.

She didn’t expect anything less after a full hot meal and a mug of hot cocoa; the perfect method to drag her boy into a deep and necessary sleep. Pale fingers lingered on his hair for only a second, a small smile on her face that felt completely at odds with the humiliating ache of guilt still raw in her chest. You’re going to be fine, Henry.

With a tight nod to a near-empty room, Regina Mills pulled her hand back and stood up, posture straight as she made her way out of the living room.

“There you are, dear. I almost thought you ran again.”

The expensive aesthetic of her prized kitchen had been entirely hijacked and there was almost nothing she could do about it. Not when she needed the person doing the hijacking. “And run where exactly, Maleficent?” Regina’s scoff almost went unheard under the bubbling from the stove. “You’re in my house.”

Maleficent stood at the pristine marble island, no longer a schizophrenic vagrant buried behind gray hair and wrinkles. “I’ve been in your house, Gina. Where were you?” The curse’s decay had been entirely stripped away, leaving behind a striking woman no older than Emma; another annoying young blond to deal with. “Also, you need to buy more chocolates. You seem to have run out, unfortunately.” 

“Unfortunately.” Regina rolled her eyes at the other witch, the fae almost preening as she stood over a heavy stainless-steel pot on the stove; the boiling magic enough to overpower the lingering smell of Henry’s cocoa.

“Oh, Regina…” Back still turned, Maleficent let out a low purr as she stirred the boiling liquid in front of her, a wooden spoon held like a wand. “You made me old, love. Thirty years a rotting hag, little more than mindless. Such a tedious existence.”

“And now you are younger than me.” Regina stepped further into the kitchen, arms crossed across her chest. “Happy?”

“Mmmmmmm…” Maleficent lifted the spoon, several drops of thick dark liquid falling back into the pot. “A little.”

Regina’s feet carried her to the edge of the island, eyes narrowed as she watched the other witch continue the hijacking of her kitchen, all to brew the very magic Regina had no knowledge of or skill in. “Would it help…” Regina started, breath crowding the words, “…if I said I was sorry?”

“No, no, my dear. Let us not pretend.” Maleficent turned her head to show Regina a poisoned smile. “Because you are not.”

Regina rolled her eyes. “It’s not like you would be either.”

“If I did it, I wouldn’t be.” Maleficent hummed again, still stirring. “But I would never do it in the first place. That’s the difference between you and me.”

Regina’s brow rose high. “What is?”

Maleficent glanced back with another smile, eyes twinkling. “I’m not an idiot.”

A grunt spilled past Regina’s lips, fingertipst twitching and flaring red before she forced the magic down. It didn’t help her mood one bit that Maleficent was outright cackling her way, the sound bouncing off the walls of her kitchen.

“It’s not your fault, love.” Maleficent’s voice shifted to a purr again as her laughter died down to almost nothing. “Unfortunate reality of being raised by Cora of the Black Forest.”

One eye twitched in place of her finger, a muscle jumping in her jaw before Regina could even find the words to speak. “I…I never meant to make you suffer, if it means anything. Leaving you whole would have had this curse broken in years, not decades.” As much as she needed the woman weakened, Maleficent was still… a friend. “You’re simply… tricky like that.”

“Don’t worry, Regina. I don’t blame you too much, poor thing.” Maleficent let out another laugh with her words, this one small and breathy; a real laugh. “Being a bitch…” She turned around with a knowing look. “Well, it is simply in your blood, after all.”

Regina forced down a grunt, refusing to take the bait. It didn’t help that Maleficent was also right about that, as much as she hated it. 

Maleficent turned back to the pot. “Though, I must say…” The dark fae hummed again, the sound ringing with amusement. “Maya Effington. Really, Regina?”

Neatly trimmed and threaded brows furrowed above her eyes. “What about it?”

“It is terribly crude. Maya Effington. My, F-ing, town.” Maleficent cast a sideways glance, eyes still glittering. “How brave of you to attempt subtlety. You never were a very creative woman, were you?”

“I didn’t create the names.” Regina’s spine was as rigid as it ever was, Maleficent’s critique more of an annoyance than she remembered. “The curse did.”

“Yes. Yes.” The other witch tilted her head again. “But who cast the curse, love?”

Regina clicked her tongue, the sharp sound echoing loudly tile as she glared at the bubbling pot.

Maleficent simply hummed louder at the non-answer, one elegant pale hand waving over the stove. The burner extinguished instantly, the bubbling of the pot slowing down with no heat to keep it going. With another flick of her wrist, a delicate glass vial manifested into the air, the thing hovering over the stovetop.

A silver ladle dipped into the pot and, a moment later, the witch at the stove drew up a thick purple liquid, the thing almost glowing. A careful hand poured it into the vial without spilling a drop, Maleficent sealing the contents tightly with a cork before plucking it from the air.

“One sleeping curse cure.” Regina stared silently as the vial was held out to her, Maleficent’s palm open and waiting.  “Do try not to spill it, my dear.”

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

The forest floor was unforgiving.

More specifically, it was a bitch to sleep on — Finn wincing as a jagged root dug directly into his lower spine. Goddamnit, can’t they make a two person bedroll? Unfortunately, all they had were singles and with Aurora taking up most of the space, Finn was forced to find comfort where he could.

Speaking of uncomfortable situations…

“If looks could actually kill,” Finn breathed the words out, tilting his head to shoot a lopsided smirk across the dying campfire. “I’m pretty sure I’d be diced into sashimi right now. Dial it back a bit, Crouching Tiger.”

Mulan, unsurprisingly, did not dial it back. 

In fact, Finn was sure she didn’t even know how to do anything like that.

No, the armored warrior sat perfectly straight on the other side of the embers, dark eyes no different from lethal slits as her hand sat deliberately on her curved sword. “Keep your hands where I can see them, sorcerer.” 

“Hard to do that when I’m supposed to be sleeping,” Finn clicked his tongue, “but sure.”

He looked down to where Princess Aurora was currently pressed against his chest, back stiff as a plank of wood with his left arm tucked awkwardly under her shoulders. It was, without a doubt, the most aggressively uncomfortable cuddling session Finn could imagine.

“This is…” Aurora took in a tight breath, the sound hitched and nervous. “Rather strange, I must admit. Are you entirely certain this… this is necessary?”

Was he? Not really.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have any better ideas.

“Look, Princess,” Finn let out a low sigh, frustration forcing it out rough. “This isn’t exactly doing anything for me either, so…” He sighed again, unsure of what to say. “Just try to relax. Think of fluffy clouds or, I don’t know, extremely polite servants.”

The sorcerer let his head fall back against his makeshift bedroll, staring up at the dark canopy of the Enchanted Forest as he thought back to how they even got this far.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

A HALF HOUR AGO

“So, basically, I fall asleep with her and when the curse starts kicking, my Cursed Energy should react to it, and pretty much pull me into the dream construct that’s causing all this hell.” Finn frowned for a second, another possibility rearing its head as he thought about it. “Unless, for some reason, it’s in her Innate Domain, but I doubt that. Either way, I’ll get pulled in and basically punch out the evil infection until it dies.”

His palms came together in a clap, the sound loud enough to force a flinch from Aurora. “Easy.”

Emma had stopped cleaning the mud off her boots halfway through the early part of his explanation, the sheriff looking his way with her lips pursed. “And what’s an Innate Domain supposed to be?”

Finn blinked for a second, blue eyes flicking from Emma, over to the genuinely curious faces of Mary Margaret, Aurora, and Mulan.

“It’s…” Finn scratched the back of his neck. “It’s like a… pretty much where everything that makes you you is, you get me?”

Emma blinked. “No.”

Finn forced back a flinch. “Okay, more like… your deep internal self-space, kinda?” 

“Like… your soul?” Mary Margaret offered with a blink, Aurora’s eyes wide at her side. “You have to enter her soul?”

“No, noooo, not exactly, MM.” A sigh left him, voice pulling low as he tried to think deep for how to phrase this. I mean, it is kinda like your soul, but not really? “Like… more like the seat of your soul? I know that sounds kinda the same. Like her inner world, pretty much where you go when you daydream or meditate…” 

Finn’s eyes narrowed at his own explanation, half-sure he was bullshitting. “…yeah.”

Unfortunately, they were also half-sure he was bullshitting.

What followed was a good half-hour of Finn desperately trying to translate Jujutsu mechanics to people who thought “True Love’s Kiss” was a valid response to dealing with curses. If he’d though explaining an Innate Domain was hard, he ended up having to explain what a ‘Domain’ even was and somehow from there that had led to him talking about Barriers, and Binding Vows had even come up, and then what residuals felt like.

By the end of it, Finn was sighing when he had to explain why he couldn’t just throw a potion at it.

Namely, the fact that he didn’t know how to make one.

“We trust you, Finn,” Mary Margaret finally said. “Just bring her back safely.”

“…thanks, Snow.”

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

NOW

Finn dragged a long hissing breath through his teeth as he closed his bright blue eyes. Cursed Energy circulated under his skin as he let it bleed out, his aura of red surrounding them both as he timed it to match the thumping of Aurora’s heart.

Just a bad dream. Finn’s eyelids dragged down, the edges of his consciousness finally beginning to blur. Just gotta punch a bad dream.

Soon enough, the damp chill of the Enchanted Forest faded, the scent of pine and mud going with it.

It was replaced, almost instantly, by blistering heat.

Finn gasped, eyes snapping open. What the-

The forest floor was gone and so was everything he remembered. In its place was a floor of cracked and scorched marble directly beneath his feet. He whipped his head around, the space massive and stretching into the darkness far past what he could see — an opulent and oversized ballroom with vaulted ceilings too high for anyone to reach. 

But the luxury meant nothing.

Not when the whole place was wrapped up in a roaring apocalyptic inferno, piillars of violent flame erupting from the floor and licking up the walls.

“This is it!” 

Finn whipped his head around to see Aurora standing beside him, pale hands clutching at her face. “The fire… it is exactly as it was! It is everywhere!”

“Cozy!” Finn yelled back, trying his best to compete with the deafening flames. “Needs better AC, though!”

He stepped in front of her, flaring a thin veil of his own cursed energy to act as a shield against the oppressive heat, gaze scanning the burning ballroom.

“How do you intend to remove this from me?!” Aurora cried out, shrinking behind his red leather jacket. “This curse?”

“Exorcise!” 

“What?!”

The fire burned hotter, a massive wave of dark heat forcing Finn to raise his arm to shield his face against a roar of flame that sounded almost like laughter. “Exorcise!” He forced the word out of a suddenly-dry mouth. “The proper term is exorcise! We don’t remove curses, we exorcise them!”

“And what does that mean?!” 

“Don’t really know the exact dictionary definition!” Finn shouted back, backing up slightly as a wall of fire taller and wider than he stood erupted ten feet to their left. “Usually, it involves a lot of punching!”

Aurora grabbed the back of his jacket, fingers digging into the leather. “You do not seem to be very good at this!”

“Hey, I take offense to that!” He flared his cursed energy even higher, trying his best. “I’m a Grade Three. Practically a pro, Princess, just give me a sec to—”

The words died in his throat, Finn unable to breathe as his heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He didn’t move. 

He couldn’t move.

Aurora gasped behind him, hands gripping Finn so hard her knuckles turned white as they both stared at something they couldn’t yet see at the far end of the ballroom.

For a split second, bold text materialized in the burning air and hovered there for an agonizing heartbeat, etched in dripping black and violent red.

ASHEN SLUMBER – GRADE 1
Diseased Cursed Spirit [Hex-Born]

“Oh…” Finn whispered, voice incredibly small. “Oh fuck.”

 o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

Off-Syllabus Sorcery – 100 GP
Use taught jujutsu principles in an untaught way.

Above Your Pay Grade – 200 GP
Encounter your first Grade 1 Curse Spirit.

Moustache of Power (50) [Bleach] {Transformation}
As good as it looks here, it only makes sense that hair becomes a measure of one’s power. Taking this will make it so that, as you grow more powerful and come closer to your ultimate goals, your hair will grow greater and more magnificent. A whisper of a moustache could progress to a glorious beard as you reach your final form, while long locks of blonde hair become a fantastic mane of golden light as you exult in the final stages of a plan. It won’t just get longer and look better, it’ll feel better too. Enjoy the lush feel of that silky, perfectly cared for hair while you prove yourself superior to all foes. If you can’t stand the sheer magnitude your hair grows to, you can also make it specific as to which hair grows and either stop it at a certain point or wind it back.

Fireball! (200) [Super Smash Bros. Ultimate] {Destruction}
A classic fighting game skill. You have gained the ability to throw a projectile of some kind. It need not be an actual fireball either. It could be a ball of spiritual energy, such as a Hadoken, another element such as electricity, or something more esoteric, like a Shadow Ball. The properties of the attack are also not set in stone. You may decide whether the attack flies through the air, bounces along the ground, or clings to the ground completely. It may be a shock wave, like Terry’s Power Wave, if you wish. Regardless of these choices, the move is not a game changer. It will hurt, but isn’t likely to defeat another Fighter.

Grimoire Points: 650