Written for sherlockbbc_fic's meme on LJ. The prompt was "Sherlock fic but Mulan style", which I decided to do in a more of a reel!fic kinda way. I will update this as I write it for the meme, so it will be in short chunks. (I know some people hate that, so I thought I'd warn for it ahead of time)
This is the first time I've put a name to any Sherlock fic, so if anyone wants to give feedback, GO FOR IT. Be harsh if you need to, I do want to get better at writing.
The story started, as so many often do, in a small village. People like to write off small country areas as unimportant, as if the price for clear air and lots of space was being irrelevant to the rest of the universe. But today, at least, this small village was home to the girl who would save the Empire. If she could manage it, of course, which didn't seem very likely at the moment.
Molly stared at herself in the mirror, slowly brushing her long, brown hair. She was nervous, and her hand trembled a bit as she put it down. Today was The Day, capitalized. The day where she was evaluated as a future wife.
"Almost done?" Molly's mama called impatiently from outside her door, waiting to finish getting ready.
"Just a minute," Molly called back. She quietly slid open her desk drawer, looking for the small white parcel. Gently she unwrapped the tissue, revealing a small jade hairpin her papa had bought for the occasion. Her fingers curled around the smooth green stone and, just for a moment, Molly allowed herself to believe the day wouldn't be a disaster.
"You look lovely," Mama said as Molly opened the door, smiling warmly. "I knew the blue would be perfect."
"Really?" Molly asked, fingering the soft skirt. It was certainly the most luxurious thing her parents had ever given her- after all, there was not much need for fancy dresses if you were a country knight's daughter.
Mama smiled again, the lines at the corner of her eyes crinkling in. "You're ready to see the Matchmaker."
"But Mama," Molly began, nervously fiddling with her sleeve. "What if... I mean, what if she finds me wanting?"
"The Matchmaker is a woman who was never married," Papa's voice said from the doorway. He rested against the doorway, allowing his cane to tap idly against the floor. "The entire exercise seems to rely on the fact that it takes one to know one."
"Hush up," Mama scolded, but Molly could see the twinkle in her father's eye. He crossed the room, picking up the jade hairpin from the desk.
"For luck," he said, beckoning her over so he could slide it into her bun. Molly gave him a tight hug, and his chuckle rumbled through his chest against her cheek.
Mama held open the door. "It's time to go, Molly."
"You have my blessings," Papa whispered in her ear before Mama whisked her outside, where Gladstone and the wagon was waiting.
Papa was right about the Matchmaker. Molly