Disclaimer: I don't own Mulan or Fa Zhu. Nor do I get paid for this.
Fa Zhu's feelings when he thinks of his precious daughter, Mulan. Placed a few months after she rides to war. One shot.
It was…difficult, to say the least. I have always tried to do what my heart says is right, no matter what the consequences, Zhu thought with a deep, cleansing sigh, readjusting slightly on the stone bench.
He could still remember how, when he was a young man he had not wished for what every other warrior his age had. Secretly, he has always wanted, not a son, but a daughter. A beautiful, obsidian haired girl… One with all of the beauty of a sweet fruit blossom in the sunlight… One with all of the spirit and life of a mountain river in springtime…
Zhu smiled reminiscently, a sparkle coming into his dark eyes at the thought. Who could have asked for more? His precious daughter was more than these… she had become the center of his heart.
It was difficult, though… raising a daughter. Far more difficult than he had ever envisioned. He wanted her to be true to her own heart, something he could not really teach her, but tried anyway. Wisdom…yes, he wished her to have wisdom too.
Zhu chuckled, a deep rumble in his throat. Sometimes he felt that he could never have enough of that to even match the challenges his little girl faced every day. His wisdom had been more than enough for all of those years and then, he had a daughter.
No words could describe how she had come into this world and taken such a hold on his heart.
Zhu glanced up at the early spring blossoms, admiring their beauty and strength. They promised a good season to come, much fruit and plenty for China.
And still, he focused upon the one late bloom, just opening its delicate pink petals to the sunlight.
My, my…what beautiful blossoms we have this year, he remembered saying the words once more. But look, this one's late. He could almost pretend his little girl was with him then, turning to see the flower her father was pointing out. She always had been ready to listen when he spoke.
But I'll bet, that when it blooms…it will be… "The most beautiful of all," Zhu whispered to himself, looking back at the empty place on the bench beside him.
Hope for her safe return was unnecessary. Hope was a weak emotion. But belief…
Yes. He believed that in whatever way his daughter chose to shine, she would indeed be the most beautiful of all.
My dear Mulan…