Disclaimer: I do not own Mulan.
Betaed by: Zim'smostloyalservant
Hachin Seasons:
Growing
The sun was setting, the rhythm of the ger shifting from day to night. Tasks were doubled in their labor to be finished with the light, or set aside for the next day. Work changed hands as some rested and others stepped up. All in all, the ger would shrink in on itself against the night even as scout and herdsmen increased their efforts.
This time and morning were the great time of crowds roaming and shifting. The time of noise. So it was noted when voices lowered just a tad and people paused to make way. Not for their mighty Shan-Yu, or their scarred Queen. They parted for a figure in white that strode through their company with a steady unchanging pace.
"Min, Ulai!" the child in the figure's arms demanded.
Zaya's coal-colored hair was already braided back, her finery worn and stained beyond what even the washerwomen could help. Now the two-year-old tugged on a loose clump of white hair for attention.
"Almost there, princess," Ulai smiled. The Hun's smile reached her sharp red eyes, with the dark-eyed child answering with one of her own before settling down.
Ulai stopped in her stride at a particular whisper. Her uncanny eyes searched for the guilty party, locking unto the old woman who was staring back at her, unflinching.
She knew this one. Ulai knew them all; that was how life was in a ger. She knew how she looked, every bit of exposed skin from her widow's peak to the space between her boots and leggings white as bone. Her hair was the same shade, styled to rise as if in a wind by a gunk she bought from the west. Her clothes were dyed white or white furred. Beneath the stains, even her boots were white.
The only color she permitted were the natural red of her eyes and the red painted on her lips.
She had once been called Nara, the daughter of the great King of the Right. But she has been touched by the malevolent supernatural and it had marked her. What's more, her mother had betrayed the Shan-Yu for her sake. Even a respected leader like the Shan-Yu or even his wife's word could only go so far against such marks.
She had once tried to hide herself, but the world would not allow that. To hide was only to further the belief that something wicked lurked within her. So she had done what would allow her to walk proudly, regardless of whispers.
She had embraced her oddness. Let them think her touched by magic, another supernatural force at service to the royal family, she was past caring.
She had left her old name behind and renamed herself as Ulai, the corpse. Those who feared the taboos that had become her life she wanted no part of. Her company was the brave and wise, the strong.
As they reached the royal corral, the child squirmed to be let down. Nara smiled as Zaya ran, almost tripping. Too eager to bother with the gate, she slipped through the fence into the company of horses. Ulai followed in silence, grabbing a post to vault over the fence. The nearest horse fixed her with a look of tired irritation. Horses were wise and strong, even if those who rode them were not.
Her pursuit of her charge was slow, stopping to stroke the majestic beasts of Bataar and Hachin's private stock. This herd had expanded under the Queen. Hachin and her husband both held a deep bond with horses such as most men only aspired to.
As did their daughter, she thought, red lips drawn in a smile to reveal white teeth. She caught sight of the ornery mare of the Queen lying down to let Zaya stroke her flank.
Her brother Zhu would not have darted among the great beasts, much less approached the imperious royal mare without his parents at his side. Or even been eager to leave his mother's arms to rush ahead on his own legs.
"Weakness, fear," Ulai muttered, crossing her pale arms. A boy should be eager to run and fight. View a tent as a prison. Not be eager to return to it and hear words written on old paper by his mother or learn something as strange and useless as capturing words in ink.
Writing was sorcery she had little trust for – words should be living things, their power passed around like fire leaping from one torch to another. It was puzzling how she could feel both admiration and disdain for her patron.
Though she did owe her for this, Ulai thought, kneeling down next to Zaya as the child pressed her lips together and poked Min's hooves curiously.
Beyond the warpath she had little use with the people's fear of her. But she had found her purpose in the princess the Queen could simply "not handle right now". Ulai could handle this child, would gladly do so, as no man would ever lay with the corpse woman.
"You have a ruler's bearing," she whispered to Zaya, kissing the girl lightly through the dark hair.
XXX
Bataar wanted to pace.
Or go back to training, even if he had to order someone to spar with him. Anything would be better than sitting here waiting, hearing his wife's cries and the muffled words of the midwives. There was no summit this time. And this time he had secured a chief midwife known for her lack of weakness or tolerance of it in aides.
The woman was like an old sword with no handle, covered in nicks. But she was said to scare off the spirits that bring death to women and infants like no other even if she had to beat such spirits against a cooking pot until their heads burst.
As much as she hated him, and everyone else, he had to admit he liked that quality in an old woman.
But thoughts could not direct him from his restlessness. But he could not get up. Zaya was on his lap as she had been for an hour since the sharp-tongued midwife had kicked the girl out of the tent.
She was asleep now, still holding onto his tunic and pressing her head into his chest.
Zhu, Tianlinn, was pacing, talking with Qorchi. The older boy was trying to keep the prince calm, and not doing well.
While it was good to be concerned for his mother, Bataar found him too free with his emotions. His son had his eyes, but otherwise Zhu was clearly mother's son. Not just in looks; he had this "air" about him.
Perhaps it was his love of stories and craft over horses and swordplay? Or that once his mother had explained writing, he wanted her to teach him?
Bataar could write, of course. Treaties sealed in paper had an additional power alongside those sealed in blood and ritual. Useful for records too. But he had been a reluctant student, like any man he knew.
He looked to his inner circle chatting about something. Ruga and Ulai filled out the ranks once more. He had expected some complaint on the young woman's elevation, but it seemed few saw her as just a woman. Or even a woman at all.
Why did people insist on being so stupid? Just like those who had ever thought his dead brother was worth more than a three-legged horse in leadership.
"My Shan-Yu!" a coarse voice broke his reverie.
The old woman stood in the doorway, short with her wrinkled frog-like face and ugly dress. She said nothing more, as everyone gave her their attention and Bataar stood, holding the waking dark-eyed girl.
"Well?" Bataar demanded.
"You have a healthy son. Good strong lungs. Good strong wife too, nearly broke one of the fools' jaws," the old woman cackled.
He felt the smile on his face, ignoring Zhu's questions – the boy asked only to not pay attention anyway. He carried Zaya in with him as the midwife ushered him in.
XXX
Boke was crying, Bataar could hear it through the door. Hardly unusual – both his sons had been criers, as he was told was normal. Zaya being quieter had been a fluke.
He cast a glance back at the lesser women of his household, the in-laws-turned-servants and the older nieces. Women's priorities often failed to line up with those of men. But when they had the nerve to disrupt his duties for some domestic matter in the middle of the day… well, it would be foolish not to heed it.
Entering the tent's main room, he saw Boke laid in his proper place. And his Queen, on their bed?
That was strange.
"Hachin?" he called, walking up to her. She was awake; she rolled from her back to face away from him. Frowning, he reached down and pulled the jide off her. She was still dressed for sleeping. She had not changed for the day.
"Are you ill?" he asked.
"…Leave me alone," she told him softly.
"Boke is crying," he told her.
"I can hear it," she snapped dully.
It, what? They had all had a difficult time to convince her to relinquish the others enough at this stage to attend to anything but her babies. What was this now?
"Odgerel!" He called, turning toward the door. Naturally, his voice carried and the demure servant woman entered.
"Tend to Boke," he commanded.
The woman carried the infant out of the tent, already rocking him in comfort. Good, now he could focus.
"What is this?" he demanded.
"A tent," she said.
"…You are ignoring your son. This is not natural and not like you. So what is the problem?" He demanded. Bataar could feel his anger rising. And she was still rolled over, looking away from him.
"How many of those do you even want?" she asked.
"Uh, well. What?"
"I have done this twice, and for what?" she sighed.
"For what? Children. You were excited about this before Boke was born," he said. These questions made no sense!
"And now he keeps me awake," she shot back.
"You should be up. If you won't tend to your children, there are other duties. Always a need for more hands at laundry."
"They will just get dirty again, like babies," she grumbled.
"Enough!" Bataar growled. Grabbing her shoulder, he pulled her onto her back to face him.
Her eyes brought him up short. He had been expecting that spark, even blaze of defiance that could intimidate, and excite. But it was not there. Just irritation, and… nothing?
He left her there, not even noticing the small girl peeking around the entrance to the children's chamber.
XXX
The three half-siblings folded laundry in whispered conference. They could claim some privacy as nieces of the Shan-Yu. Erdenechimeg, ever excitable, made the report first.
"The midwife has seen this before. A woman's joy and purpose is foremost to carry life within her. Sometimes, rather than fulfilling that purpose and bringing joy, it brings despair as a woman's soul is alone beneath her skin again," the pretty girl said, folding a plain dress.
Bolormaa raised an eyebrow at that as she folded one of Bataar's tunics. The other youth cast her eyes down before the more mature girl began to speak.
"The shaman says the cause is a wicked spirit. Women are weakened by the battle of birthing and foul spirits can enter them and drain them of the light of life while doing no harm to the body. Such spirits cannot be easily exorcised, the woman's spirit must expel it," the calm woman said.
Munkhjargal listened to them talk before finally speaking softy. Her voice still got their attention.
"Some are saying Shan-Yu Bataar should take another wife. Hachin is a great warrior, but a woman who excels at shedding blood will not give life so well as to secure the line on her own.
"Some even say her Han ancestors are punishing her for heresy and forsaking China," the shy girl said, keeping her eyes on her task.
The thought of their aunt by marriage being possibly set aside ended any further chatting over the laundry between the three.
XXX
If there was one thing he could agree with his cursed wife on, children could be annoying. Specifically, his firstborn.
They were settled down to dinner round the fire, the whole household, even his wife, staring at her stew as it cooled. This was supposed to help; it did not help the rest of them. It was like a shadow, a bloodless one at that, was taking her seat.
He would almost be grateful for the distraction if not for its nature.
"Papa!" his son whined.
"Tianlinn," he addressed his heir as he did when displeased.
"Fix it," the boy demanded, looking past his father to his mother.
"I can't," he admitted, setting his own bowl down.
"You have to!"
"I can't," Bataar repeated.
"Momma's not right, you have to-"
"I CAN'T!" the Shan-Yu yelled, grabbing the boy by the shirt as he stood, lifting him off the ground.
"No one can do anything. So stop your whining that helps nothing, boy," he growled, glaring into those wide wolf eyes.
"Sire?" one of the nieces spoke up. Bataar blinked and looked at his trembling son. With a sigh, he set the boy down and returned to his seat. He did not object when the boy went to eat elsewhere.
XXX
Gaitan had gone to check on her.
It had become a habit; routine was broken anyway. Hachin was as much a part of the inner circle as the rest of them; motherhood clearly changed that. Even if pregnancy had slowed her down each time, it had not stopped her entirely for long. As leader of the spear wives, she had yet to go to war properly, but she was recognized as a great warrior and many women had come to the tribe to learn under her.
Now, it was like the Queen was simply gone, and that absence made her every task and duty official and unofficial step forth as gaping holes in a battle line.
Stepping into the ger confirmed Hachin was still there, Mushu reading one of those strange pieces of paper he sometimes produced. The spirits of China were mysterious creatures; they baffled men with no effort.
As he entered, Munkhjargal was attending the youngest prince and the Queen. He stopped, realizing the quiet sub-royal was not alone.
"Zaya?" he asked, stepping up to the children's area where Zaya sat besides her teenage cousin.
"Shh!" Zaya hissed at him angrily. He was not stunned by the forceful child trying to silence him; would not be the first time. But the girl so young was holding her infant brother. Or trying to, under what seemed to be Munkhjargal's instruction.
"I thought Zaya and Zhu were ordered away?" Gaitan remarked. Munkhjargal flushed at the implied disobedience, as always. One of these days, her face would stay red, he was certain. Pressing her fingertips together, she took her time answering.
"The princess insisted," Munkhjargal told him.
"Momma doesn't like us," Zaya said.
"…That's not true, she's sick," Gaitan reminded her.
"She won't feed him. She doesn't like him," Zaya insisted.
"She won't play with me," Zaya continued, frowning in a way that would be cute if not for the words.
"Your mother is sick," Gaitan insisted. The child met his gaze; she did not have her father's eyes. But he realized she had his stare, despite that somehow. The warrior looked away and to the only grown non-stricken woman present. The look he hoped said what he meant.
'She was a woman, take care of this, somehow,' he left. But those dark eyes stayed with him even in the bustle of the ger.
XXX
Hachin breathed in the air of the corral, the smell of horses and the wind refreshing. Everything seemed refreshing or invigorating now.
She smiled down at the bundle squirming slightly in her arms. Boke… in many ways, this felt like their first meeting.
A notion her hovering husband did not allow to settle. She gave a half smile to the leader of all Huns.
"You had best start keeping your distance, Bataar, or men might start to confuse you for a worrying husband," she remarked.
"Yeah, give the lady some air, Bright Eyes," Mushu demanded from her shoulder, shaking a fist at Bataar.
"Mushu, go watch Zhu like I told you to. Both of you, it's not like I'm going to tip over and break," she admonished. Grumbling, Mushu went off. Her husband was not so pliable. He crossed his arms, giving her one of those almost glares that played such a role in their marriage.
"What?" she demanded, quite exasperated.
"It's hard to believe you would recover so quickly, without consequences," he admitted.
"Was it that bad?" she asked.
"You don't remember refusing to move a foot to tend your own crying son?" he asked. Her eyes and mouth tightened and she looked away.
"I… it's over now. I promise you it won't happen again," she told him.
"I believe you. But I'm not sure this is something you can prevent with vows," he told her.
Looking for something else other than those wolf eyes, Hachin spotted a pony being led by Ulai. And the rider…
"Zaya! When did you start riding?" Hachin cheered at the sight of her daughter looking thrilled and scared on the animal.
The dark-eyed Hun girl looked to her mother in surprise and then buried her face in the pony's mane. Hachin blinked and looked to Ulai, who shrugged, but did not lead the girl or animal to the fence but moved to pluck the small one from the pony.
"Zaya was rather disturbed by your behavior. Ulai in particular has taken care to comfort her," Bataar said behind her.
"Oh, that is good. For Ulai, I mean, she should socialize more," Hachin remarked. She felt a twist of cold on her back before Boke cried out.
Thoughts of her daughter were swiftly set aside to tend to the son that needed her now.
XXX
"This morning I found Mushu tied up in a pot," Hachin said as she served Zaya and Zhu their stew.
Bataar grunted as he held out his own bowl. His wife filled her own bowl, before setting the ladle aside. That was Solongo's goat and wild onion stew; she had best have good reason for not handing it over promptly.
"Third time this week you have done that," she observed, taking a sip of the stew to test its heat. Their recurring dinner guest, Oyunbileg, chimed in, enjoying her own stew.
"What can he say? That dragon is the annoying brother-in-law he never expected to have and never wanted," the spear widow chuckled. He took the time to glare at the annoying woman before speaking himself.
"At least a brother-in-law I could arrange to be married to a woman on the other side of the Confederation's territory," he grumbled.
"Look, neither of you are going anywhere, so I think it is past time you learned how to get along," Hachin said, crossing her arms.
"Oh really?" Bataar remarked, reaching and grabbing the blasted ladle himself.
"Yes, I'd say a camping trip between the two of you should be a good start. Men bond over the cold and dirty in isolation, I understand. Three days should be a good start," she said, smiling that annoying smile.
To Bataar's subdued horror, no sooner has she said that, and he was about to get some of the stew, than the dragon's head popped out of the pot.
"Camping?! Finally, a chance to tell my best ghost stories. I guarantee they will have big ugly here unable to get a wink of sleep!" Mushu exclaimed, relaxing in the stew.
Bataar smacked him over the head with the ladle while everyone except Oyunbileg looked a bit queasy, Zaya even putting hands to her mouth, eyes wide.
"Still good," Oyunbileg declared, taking another bite of her stew.
Three Days Later:
Hachin went to meet them when the scouts announced their return. Leaving Boke with her nieces, she collected Zhu and was pleased to see Ulai bring Zaya as well to the corrals.
"Ah, nothing like returning to something like civilization after roughing it," Mushu groaned, happily stretching himself on the stallion's head as it trotted in. Glaring at the dragon, Bataar sent him flying with a forceful flick. Zhu rushed forward and managed to catch the startled dragon.
The Hun Queen laughed as Bataar swung down and had his leg quickly seized by Zaya. His scowl vanished to be replaced by a smile as he patted the girl's unruly hair. She tried to both tell Bataar all she had done in his brief absence while demanding answers to what he had been doing.
Taking in her husband's worn and slightly charred look, Hachin swept in to save him from the young girl's attention demanding. With only a bit of fuss, she sent her daughter off with Ulai, who as usual was happy to look after the handful of a little princess. Zhu she sent off with Mushu to see what Qorchi was up to.
With the family gone, she let her husband lean against the fence in exhaustion while she began rubbing down the stallion.
"Did you have fun?" she asked with a smile he could not see.
"First he lost half our supplies with poor knots. Then he lost the horse, at night. His attempts to start a campfire 'to help' nearly caused a grassfire which I had to put out myself, by causing a rockslide. And that cost us the rest of the supplies.
"I have faced blood-sworn enemies that have given me less trouble!" Bataar bared his clenched teeth.
*Peck*
Rage turned to befuddlement when his wife gave him a peck on the cheek.
"And despite all that, Mushu isn't even a little maimed. I am so proud of you Bataar!" she told him. He blinked, but then grinned slyly. There was still her end of the deal.
"And how well did you get along with Suren?" he asked. He could only imagine the grief his stoic and temperamental familiar would cause the former Han.
Raising an eyebrow, Hachin held out an arm and the falcon swept down to perch on it. Perfect landing, not causing injury even without a proper gauntlet.
"I could hate you both so much right now," Bataar said.
"Oh, don't be so dramatic, that's what I have Mushu for. Besides, wait until after you get your present tonight," she told him with a grin.
XXX
'At least it's not as boring as it used to be,' Hachin thought somewhat sullenly as the wagon jerked again. She shifted, trying to get comfortable on the cushions with a six-month belly hindering her.
She disliked having to leave her riding to be carried in a wagon like an overstuffed bag. Not that she always rode, of course, but the lack of choice was what nettled.
And her husband was worse this time. Once it became clear she was expecting again, he had set the midwife to shadow her. To prevent any further difficulties in the birth chamber, he said.
The fact she had only slept in the same bed as Bataar since that old woman started giving advice was another part of her irritation. But a large part she would readily tell Oyunbileg and Choeten when she sat with them was not being allowed to drink anything but water or unfermented milk.
'I am not a doll to worry about breaking,' she thought mutinously.
She was distracted from her brooding by Suren's cry. The falcon was on the short stand that had been made for him. Expressly so Zaya, as she was currently doing, could admire the falcon without him tearing things up with his talons.
Ulai was handing Zaya some bits of old looking horse jerky, when a word jogged her attention.
'China'.
Away from the albino and girl, Mushu was perched atop three piled cushions, regaling a wide-eyed Zhu with tales of his travels in the old homeland.
Checking Boke was still securely asleep, Hachin got to her feet. She would rather her son not have fanciful notions of a country that would resent him as a half-breed. A traitor's son if they knew her heritage. Not to mention his father would not like it.
"Momma, look!" Zaya called, as Hachin got to her feet.
"Not now Zaya," Hachin answered, trying to balance herself on the moving tent. Ulai gave the girl a pat on the head and watched as Zaya threw the piece of meat for Suren to snatch out of the air with his beak.
Near The Hill of Eight Bears:
"My condolences," Coyot said from his post next to Ulai. Bataar glared at the King of the Right. The man met his glare passively, and put an arm around his daughter, who was hugging the trembling Zaya.
Zhu stood with Qorchi, the broad-shouldered young archer awkwardly patting the crown prince's shoulder. Boke looked around confused as Bataar's nieces ushered him out. His youngest son, despite having his mother's eyes, was clearly taking after Bataar.
The normal pride such a thought would bring did not come. Not when his attention went back to the middle-aged midwife who he was holding aloft by her neck.
"What can be done?" Bataar asked her.
"Nothing, too much bleeding…" the woman gasped. Bataar let her fall to the ground, his son already rushing up to him.
"That can't be true!" Zhu shouted at his father. Bataar silenced the boy with a glare.
"I warned her, the risks," Bataar muttered.
"Father, if the shamans and midwives can't help her what about the Han?" Zhu asked.
"Han are useless, and far away, idiot!" Zaya snapped.
"Your mother was born to them, Zaya. But she is right, your idea is senseless," Bataar said, looking to the entrance to the birthing tent.
"Perhaps not entirely," Coyot remarked. The King of the Right stepped forward, stroking his chin.
"What?" Bataar demanded.
"Yomo's brother, Chief Ulatan. I understand his raid on China produced a Han doctor for the slave markets. Our ways have failed, you seem to have little to lose," Coyot remarked.
"…Batu! Gaitan!" Bataar called. The twins stood at attention for their furious Shan-Yu.
"Bring that Han here, now," he commanded.
XXX
His patience has already worn through when the twins returned a horse, Batu sharing the horse with a Han gray beard and Gaitan carrying a bag in his free hand. Bataar grabbed the small Han from the stallion and set him down. He was well dressed, no doubt to impress buyers with how prosperous, and therefore skilled, he was before being taken as a slave.
He had lost his hat – wealthy Han had a fixation with stupid hats, in his experience. But for now, the man was clearly terrified to be before the Shan-Yu himself. Good.
"I am told you are a doctor. A Han healer?" Bataar said. The man gulped and nodded.
"I see. My Queen is in that tent, giving birth to my fourth born. I have been told both Hachin and the child are doomed by the best healers of my nation assembled here.
"You will enter that tent with my blessing, Oyunbileg will ensure any orders you give are obeyed on pain of death.
"If you succeed, you will be given a horse from my own corral, a purse of silver, an escort to the Wall, and your freedom. Fail, and I will make you devour your own entrails before you die.
"Do you understand?" Bataar said it all with affected friendliness, even hooking an arm around the trembling man's back.
To his surprise, the man stilled his trembling and stroked his beard before adjusting his Han coat.
"Every instruction, obeyed?" the Han asked, his voice soft but steady.
"Or else," Bataar answered. The Han nodded and looked to the door. Hachin's scream cut through the air. Bataar made certain he did not show any reaction.
"If it comes to a choice, shall I save the mother or the child?" the doctor asked.
"You will save Hachin, but that will only buy you a quick death. Unless I change my mind and still make it slow."
"…I will need my bag, and to see the patient at once," the doctor told him.
XXX
Everything ached, her womanhood throbbed with pain, she could see it in her mind. She was awake, she supposed, but she did not want to open her eyes. Better to slip back into oblivion.
"She is awake," a man with a strange but familiar accent said nearby.
"What?" Hachin croaked, her eyes cracking open.
"So you were born to China, I had wondered," the Han man said. She could make out the shape of him. The tent was much brighter than she remembered from the last times.
Why was a Han here? And had she just spoken Chinese to him? Puzzling over that, she ignored the shouting around her.
Her mind meandered before tripping over the most important topic.
"MY BABY!" She shouted, sitting up. Or rather trying too. Pain lanced through her and someone pushed her back down onto the… linens? She knew it had been furs earlier.
"She must not move too much!" the Han was saying.
"What are you doing here? Where is my baby?" Hachin demanded.
"She is here, and he was saving both your lives," Bataar spoke. Her vision was becoming cleaner; she saw her husband taking up the doorway before entering. He closed it behind him with one hand, the other arm cradling something.
"Well done, Han. You shall receive your reward in three days time when the summit breaks up, in full," the Shan-Yu of the Huns said. The much smaller man bowed deeply and took the words as a dismissal.
Once husband and wife were alone with their newest child he took a seat by her bedside.
He did not offer the babe for her to hold, but held it for her to see. The infant squirmed slightly in the red blanket it was wrapped in, opening its eyes to reveal the wolf eyes.
"A girl, Tseteg," Bataar told her. She felt like she was glowing despite the pain.
"She is beautiful," Hachin smiled, lifting a hand to stroke girl's head. She felt something wrong and looked to her husband to see him frowning.
It was not his usual scowl at the world and most things in it. This was what served for him what frowns did for normal men.
"She is also the last.
"You cannot bear anymore children. It would kill you," he told her quietly.
"…Well, the Circle will be pleased to hear it. You will have wives numbers two through seven lined up by dinner if they have their way," Hachin grumbled. Her eyes focused on Tseteg, the girl settling down in her father's arm. That was what she needed to focus on, she told herself.
"Don't be foolish. If these years have shown me anything, it is that I was right about polygamy being for fools. There may not be another woman like you on the Steppes, but the risk there might be and she may also end up my wife is too great to take the risk.
"One wife, four children, and those nieces until we can marry them off. Compared to when it was just me and Unegan, the royal line is secure enough.
"Besides, so many women and children. I would have to go off and conquer the whole world save for China just to get away enough to keep my sanity," Bataar grumbled.
Hachin blinked, then giggled and started to actually laugh. Even when the laugh gave way to a short coughing fit, her hand moved to pat his large hand.
Bataar smiled at her as she settled down and slipped into sleep. For once, he had a feeling things would turn out fine.
Author's Note:
Well this chapter was a pain to write. Ulai came easily, but the rest, not so much. Heavy stuff again. Mulan/Hachin comes from a family with a bad history for child rearing, so that bad luck came in ways that allowed her children to live instead.
The postpartum depression she suffered was the hardest to write. Long term consequences for the story there, so I wanted to lay the groundwork without beating heads in. Also hard with how no one really knew how to help her or the situation, like with the midwives this is not meant to slight anyone; but remind readers how different eras had different views and approaches to problems we still have today. And while there is much wisdom in the past, frankly there is plenty we have just plain gotten strides better at. I even asked my medical terminology professor some questions last semester after class when we were covering pregnancy on this type of depression. I hope my portrayal did not offend anyone who has experience with this. If it does I apologize.
And so we start top see Zaya ad Zhu develop a bit. I have loved those two so much since they emerged from the thoughts! I even gave them that cameo back in Hachin impatient to write them. Tseteg and Boke are also fun but the two eldest, they just are so interesting together. Hopefully you will see what I mean before too terribly long.
Speaking of seeing, the talented Trackula has graciously created fanart for the Hachin series. With instruction from myself and Jazzqueen there are pictures of the Hun royal children as they will appear in "Dragon and & Horse". I will post links to the pictures shortly after posting this chapter.
This wraps up matters on the Steppes for this interlude. The next chapter will check in on Shang, one of Mulan's old war buddies, and the Imperial Court. Should be much easier and quicker to write, but promises of such invoke murphy as most of you probably know.
To fans of my other works, they are not forgotten and my hope is getting this wrapped up will stir up still more. Get Mushu off my back as it where.
Well nothing left to say really but:
Long days and pleasant nights to all.