Title: A Knife for a Ribbon

Theme: Acceptance

Characters/Pairing: Mulan/Shang (of course!)

Rating: T (Nothing you wouldn't find at a PG-13 movie now-a-days)

Date: February 19th, 2012

Mulan took a step back in hesitation as the tips of her fingers reached the wooden door leading to her former commanding officer's chambers. They had been living and training in the same headquarters, avoiding each other. She had found this even more difficult than she ever expected. His pride was like a splinter cutting into her skin, the more she tried to remove it the deeper it sunk, making her aware it was still there. But she was better than that. So many times she had swallowed her own pride to face him and solve their quarrels. This time, however; it was not the same. This time he had lost him. Too many bitter words exchanged and too many promises broken.

Regardless of it all, it was him: the man she had admired most after her father, the man she had vowed to honor and be faithful to, the man whose opinion she valued most. And for the last time, she thought he should know.

All of a sudden, the door opened before her catching her completely out of guard. Their eyes found each other for a moment. She did not see the anger in his eyes she had expected; instead, they mirrored her own sadness, and perhaps even her longing. She bowed her head in reverence and he gestured her to enter and closed the door behind them.

Her gaze still focused on the floor she was standing, not because it interested her, but because she had so many things to say to him, and sentences could not be formed properly when she felt the lump in her throat and the weariness in her heart. She hoped he would speak up, but she knew too damn well his pride would not allow it.

"I…I came to say goodbye," she spoke up at last and finally raised her chin to look at his face showing utter bewilderment.

"We leave tomorrow," she explained.

After that final argument when Mulan decided to rejoin the army against his wishes and pleas for her to remain safe at home. Shang had threatened he would not acknowledge her as his wife anymore if she broke her promise. It hurt him she would go against his wishes, but not because he did not consider her fit for the battlefield. The reason behind it all was an obsessive fear that haunted him for a long time now: the fear of losing her. Ironically, such fear had driven them apart: Shang and his lack of accuracy when it came to expressing his emotions; Mulan and her stubbornness.

For some months now, they had plotted several moves in the same Camp, though she ahd decided she would serve under another commanding officer, since he had spat he did not want anything to do with her if she had chosen this path. And now they were face to face, several feet apart from each other, awkward and silent, just like that night she had defeated Shan Yu on the stairs of the Grand Imperial Palace. Remorse scorned inside them both, knowing it could be their last moments together. The question hung in their minds: should they waste such time on foolish bickering and accusations? Or, should they seize the moment and speak truly to each other?

At last, he spoke, "Did you pack all your supplies?"

She frowned. How she hated when he acted as if there was nothing going on wrongly. She wanted to tell him so badly how unnecessary that question was, that there were other matters more important than to have all her supplies in order.

"I guess," she answered with a sigh.

"good." He completed , turned his back and walked away.

She stood helpless. If only she could turn back time.

"I'm sorry," she uttered the words loud enough to reach his ears and turned on her heels to leave his chambers.

"Wait," he called out as he caught up with her and handed her a pocket knife.

"What?..."

"It never hurts to carry one of these," he explained.

"Thank you, Shang." A weak yet sincere smile spread across her features as she remembered the time Shang had gotten between her and Shan-Yu and aimed at the Hun leader with a knife similar to the one she had just received from him.

He had not heard her voice pronouncing his name for such a long time. Just the one syllable coming from her lips was enough for him to melt inside. He took a step closer to her, attempting to get nearer, yet he did not know how to be around her anymore.

She wanted him to surround her with his embrace and feel his warm breath blowing on her neck. Pride and grudges could go to hell. She took a step forward and wrapped her arms around him. The tears she had fought earlier began to pour as she felt him hug her back.

"Please, forgive me Mulan," he begged drawing away from her just to look into her eyes, "I am a fool."

"We both are," she completed, "a couple of fools that don't know how to solve their differences."

"You're better than me," he corrected lifting her feet off the ground, circling her waist with one arm, using his free hand to cover one side of her face and bringing her forehead closer to his.

"Not better, nor worse," she continued, "we both made a mistake."

She felt the warm tears of him falling on her neck.

"Stay with me," he pleaded in a whisper, "just this once."

He was hardly ever open about his feelings, and as he had confessed to her once, she was the only person he allowed himself to cry for. She brushed her lips against him soothingly. Soon enough, he parted her lips and the intensity of their passion for each other increased. She surrounded his waist with her legs his hands clung to her back as if his life depended on it. Her shoes came off, the knot on his hair became loose. Both their robes fell down their shoulders until they reached the improvised bedding he had been sleeping on. He placed one hand behind her neck making sure that when he laid her it would not cause her damage. He rolled on his back and lied on his side resting one hand on the arch made by her waist which he caressed. She loosened the silk belt securing his trousers which he yanked off.

He brought her closer to him, feeling he was brought back to life when her gentle small hands traced his godlike abdomen, the way only she knew how. Once again they got lost in the passion of a kiss. As he removed her lower undergarments his sight remained on the crooked pink line on her side. He had always been drawn to it for its underlying meaning. It was the evidence of her courage, determination and devotion. It was the brand of her principles and who she was. It was a sign of her selfless sacrifice and it was what gained her Shang's admiration. He sighed for a moment and thought how fortunate he was to have her as a wife. Over the last few months he had not really demonstrated her how much he respected and admired her. He had been cold to her, and neglected her. Sometimes he thought he did not deserve her. He planted a soft kiss on her scar and removed everything that was left to remove to lay on top of her.

It had been quite a long time since they had been together, which made him want her even more.

Before he could proceed he silently requested her consent as he met her eyes, and she replied with a move of her hips he knew perfectly well meant it was granted. His hand entwined with hers, his mouth covered hers just the way she liked him to make love to her. Her eyelids fell shut and he made his way into her.

Shang awoke with the morning chill and found himself alone wondering if it had been a dream when he did not see Mulan lying next to him. He rolled on his back to get on his feet and his eyes spotted a torn piece of parchment. He quickly picked it and read the note:

"I will love you forever.

Fa Mulan"

He dropped the scroll and got dressed as fast as he could. He did not care to tie his hair up and left his room. The halls of the headquarters were empty and silent. Then the neighing of horses outside reached his ears. He looked out the nearest window and saw the soldiers serving under General Hong Hui's command assemble and disappear into the horizon. He knew Mulan was among them.

He remained motionless watching until the last soldier was gone. His troops would not advance until they were given the emperor's order to do so. He returned to his room and decided to lie down. He found the green ribbon Mulan had forgotten the previous night. He took it in his hands and brought it to his nose to smell the scent of her. It broke his heart not to fight by her side. But now he finally understood that loving her meant he could not deny her from what she considered her duties to her country. He had fallen in love for her courage and devotion, and yet it had been his fear that had somehow imprisoned her.

"You have surprised me before, Fa Mulan," he told himself reassuringly, "I don't see why I should expect less from you. Go on and save China."

He had set her free, although he was completely heartbroken. How much he hated to realize he had wasted precious time being angry at her instead of cherishing her.

"Ancestors," he whispered, "please look after Mulan and grant me the opportunity to see her again."

The young general looked around to make sure she had taken the pocket knife he had given her the previous night, which she did. He took the ribbon she had forgotten and wrapped it around his wrist. He was forever bound to her.

Author's note: Just a little one-shot I had stored for a while. Thanks for reading. This part of the story comes later in the saga.