Mulan and Mushu were not further bothered, save the ripening stench of the corpse, and the raven haired beauty was anxious to move somewhere elsewhere. She could hear the Huns drunken ramblings in the distance, and she prayed reverently for the state of slumber to quiet them.
"The smell is becoming intolerable," she muttered crossly, her grievous state having now fled. The midday heat had hit them, and the small room held not even a single window in order to give them some relief.
Mushu eyed the dead man's body with contempt, he felt no lost love for the fallen soldier, and he too was wanting to leave sight of it. He tore his slit eyes away from the rancid being.
"They're still drinking, they say the Hun's have endless stomachs. It is still not safe Mulan," he accessed quietly. He had found confidence in the terror he had brought to his victims eyes, but he was doubtful that a bunch of alcohol ridden soldiers would be brought to their knees as well.
When am I ever safe? The brown eyed girl thought spitefully.
Moving a damp strand of hair from her forehead, Mulan was tempted to shear it the next chance she got. Now however, she settled for simply wrapping it up off her face. Curious, she grabbed a shard of glass from off the floor, and tilted it forward experimentally. She frowned as her melting face looked back at her.
"I look as though I were a boy," she observed unhappily. Her face paint had cracked, while her eyes had smeared. Dismayed, she grabbed a nearby blanket and wiped her face roughly, until her ruined makeup no longer plagued her.
"That's it!" Mushu yelled triumphantly. He scuttled over to Mulan quickly, taking her face into his hands and eyeing it critically. "You do look like a boy!"
"Says the talking lizard," the almond eyed girl protested.
Said dragon waved off her insult carelessly, "This is a good thing sweet-cakes! We can disguise you as a soldier," he planned, grinning cheekily at the newfound revelation.
Mulan slapped his hands away. "You truly are mad. I am a highborn lady, not some simple farm hand. Why would I care to disguise myself as such?"
Her red scaled companion rolled his eyes at her daftness, "If we can disguise you, we can get you out of here."
A troubled crease formed between Mulan's thin brows, "And where exactly shall I go?"
Mother would die of fright if I were to come to her as a man. Father too would reject me.
The black haired beauty shook her head firmly. "There is nowhere to go dragon. We would do best to stay put."
Even if I were to go out and hide my true gender, what difference would be made? The Huns are Savages, they care not for such matters.
Mushu merely huffed, "You would disguise yourself using one of their armors Mulan. Even the Huns don't strike their own." Or so he hoped.
Growing nervous, the almond eyed girl eyed the smelling corpse once more. "I don't know Mushu…what shall I do once they spot me? I know not the ways of men!" Except that they are beastly, of course.
Shaking off her fears, the tiny guardian slithered over towards their now dead attacker, pulling away the knots that held his armor in place. Grunting, he managed to slide off his chest plate, before moving diligently onto his leg guards next.
"Don't worry about it Mulan, just grunt and steal something. The Huns aren't exactly known for their brains, you know," he offered, grinning in triumph once he managed to unlatch the man's sword holder.
Pleased at his work, the red dragon beckoned Mulan over, before ordering her to start dressing. Mulan made to do so warily, a sharp blush coating her cheeks once she noticed the dead Hun's state of undress.
Rolling his eyes, Mushu haphazardly tossed a blanket over him, muttering under his breath over the absurdity of it.
Struggling under the weight of the gear, the fair skinned beauty somehow managed to get herself adorned, her shoulders shaking as Mushu started to tie the breast plates together. Once satisfied, he did the same for her legs, before shaking off her silk slippers, and sliding on the man's heavy boots.
Once finished, Mushu stepped back to appraise her.
A fine sweat coating her brow, Mulan gasped out a worried, "How do I look?"
Mushu shrugged, "Not too bad if I say so myself. You might not want to speak though, seeing as the Hun's men's voices aren't exactly effeminate." But then again, he doubts that any of the Hun's soldiers are women in disguise…
Mulan nodded, causing a tendril of black hair to fall into her eyes. Huffing, she managed to lift her arms enough in order to tuck it behind her ear, gesturing wordlessly towards the Hun's discarded helmet that loitered the ground. Her scaled companion did as she bid him, before telling her to bend over, the weight nearly causing Mulan to face plant. Struggling to stay upright, her guardian was quick to slide the dented contraption over her head, tucking in any loose pieces of hair that had escaped it.
After he had finished capturing all the loose hairs, Mushu proceeded to slide the metal face plate down, satisfied at the sharp clunk it made. "There, now no one will be the wiser of that pretty little face of yours. Just walk through the halls naturally, and hopefully they'll leave you alone. After you get past them, head straight towards the stables, alright?"
Mulan made the affirmative, desperately trying to remember his plans. Moving towards the door, the armored beauty's hand settled upon the hilt of the blunted sword at her side, the crass object giving her a sense of strength. Squaring her shoulders, she breathed deeply before entering out into the halls.
-oOo—
She heard nothing upon entering, save the sound of Mushu's ragged breaths upon her neck, and she allowed a small shrill of hope to flow through her. Perhaps they have left already.
The feeling was quickly dashed however, due to a loud choir of drunken laughs.
Mulan grimaced, nothing good ever came from a man whose action's he couldn't control.
She held a glimmering bracelet loosely in one hand, which hopefully gave off the impression that she had been off looting. Stepping into the main courts, she involuntarily gasped at the sights before her.
Drunken men were seemingly everywhere, laughing loudly at one another's crude sayings. Anything of value had been taken and hoarded, while her once beautiful koi pond had been decimated. The once golden fish bloating soundlessly at the top.
She searched to and fro for any of her maidens, and breathed out a breath of relief upon finding most of them gone. Only the general's old mistresses were present, and Mulan felt a spark of anger flow through her body upon catching sight of them.
She glanced in horror at their open robes, watching as the older women smiled flirtatiously at the slurring men, gasping in mock outrage as the Hun's continued to grope their bodies.
Once a whore, always a whore, she thought cruelly, feeling her fingers itch alongside her blade. She pulled her fingers away roughly upon noticing. I have never so much as even held a sword, let alone use one. I am more likely to do more harm to myself, than they themselves.
"Just keep moving," Mushu murmured, his voice muffling into her neck.
Squashing down her anger, the disguised beauty winced as she stepped forwards. Her steps were hard and loud, and her ill fitted armor shifted uncomfortably with each movement. Biting her tongue in order to silence her displeasure, she had nearly exited the courts, only to be stopped by a gentle, yet firm hold around her arm.
Fear flooded her veins at the contact. Please ancestors, hear my cries. Allow my dragon and I to pass freely, and I will burn incense to you every day, I swear to it.
Her eyes had squeezed shut during the prayer, and she opened them bitterly at her unanswered pleas. Swallowing roughly, she made to turn, wary of her intending demise, only to be met with a face she had not expected to see.
It is the nameless slave that Shang has bought for me.
The woman's small face was tilted curiously, yet the amused smirk to her lips was undeniable. Her robes too were open, yet she seemed to use her bareness as a shield, and for a moment, Mulan felt her breath leave her, instantly jealous of the strength this female carried.
"My lady?" She questioned softly, the gentle murmur nearly faint to her ears.
Breathing out a sigh of relief, the raven haired girl nodded mutely, wondering as to what had blown her cover. As if reading her thoughts, the slave smirked once more, "Your stance had an undeniable aura of haughtiness to it, I would recognize it anywhere," she teased.
Mulan felt a deep flush pool into her cheeks, and she glared childishly at the woman, thankful of the helmet cloaking her embarrassment. "I am glad I amuse you," she stated flatly, her annoyance clear. "Now tell me why you have rendered my escape slave, and I may just spare you if I make it out of here alive."
The woman sobered up quickly, all traces of good humor fleeing. "Because my lady, despite this drunken lot, there are more men standing guard up front. They know this is the general's court, and they are weary of an opposition."
Mulan frowned, her almond eyes glancing over the slurring men coveting the room. "You do not think I could make it out?" She guessed, her answer proven correct due to the woman's silence.
Lips pursing, she asked as to where the once great General was.
The woman faltered once more, her eyes worrying over Mulan uneasily. "He has been made an example, my lady."
"An example?" She whispered, her own unease growing. "What does that mean? Have they killed him?"
The slave nodded, the crinkles around her mouth deepening. "He has been…flayed, my lady."
Mulan felt her stomach turn due to the notation, her thoughts turning back to the dead Hun's charred flesh. "Did he suffer?"
I pray I am not as cruel as these monsters, my attacker's death was quick. I hope to find some redemption in my crime.
"Yes my lady, if his screams were any indication. They had gutted him before having him flayed, yet he was still of awareness when he was ignited. I fear his cries will haunt me for the rest of my life," she answered, her words stingingly truthful.
Then perhaps I will be pardoned, she reasoned thoughtfully.
"And the lady of the house? Has she too been made an example?"
The black haired beauty prayed not. Her lord Husbands mother was a quiet woman, seemingly indifferent to the Generals indiscretions, and Mulan wished for no harm to come to her. Her Husband had already lost a father, and to his greatest enemy none the less, she wished not for him to grieve for his mother as well.
"No my lady, she is still safe in her chambers," the older slave stated, causing a wave of relief to flow through Mulan's body.
The armored beauty then made way to ask as to where the rest of the maidens were, but her jaws clamped shut instantly upon feeling the painful force of a strong hand gripping her shoulder.
"What's the matter, boy? Never fucked a live one before?" Taunted the raspy voice of a Hun soldier, his onyx eyes glancing over Mulan's small form briefly, his chapped lips curling in distaste.
The disguised girl could only swallow thickly, her throat closing in fright. Thankfully however, he seemed not to expect a response, instead going on as to bluntly ask how old he was. After all, "You look to be fresh off your mother's teats."
Clearing her throat, Mulan tried to make her voice as low as possible before answering, her soft murmur barely heard over the rest of the army's howling. "Eighteen summer's sir," she lied smoothly, pleasantly surprised at the tone of her voice.
He cocked an eyebrow at her declaration, disbelief etched onto his crude features. "You sound a bit young to be a man fully grown," He accused, his expression almost daring her to lie to him again.
Mulan, not wishing to be the brunt of his ire, meekly confessed to being only sixteen, sweating profusely all the while.
The Hun laughed loudly at her confession, spittle flying from his lips. "That's what I thought lad. Don't worry, I too wanted a taste of glory at that age, and what better way then as to compete in a war, eh?"
The disguised maiden laughed along awkwardly with him, wondering what his response would be if he learned just what side of the war she was on. Luckily, the man seemed to be well within his cups, wine dribbling down his chin as he took another gulp, and the young girl could sense his suspiciousness fading with every drop.
After finishing his cup, he turned around as though searching for more, his movements stumbling. Thankfully, his distracted state allowed Mulan the time she needed to sneak away, the quick movements causing her armor to rub her raw.
Hissing, the black haired beauty searched for the slave she had been previously talking to, whom Mulan assumed had slipped away during her conversation. Trying to search for her as inconspicuously as possible, she was saved the trouble due to a slick voice whispering into her ear.
"There, by the doorway," Mushu indicated, the sound of his voice startling Mulan from her scouring. Responding with a soft thanks, the young girl swiftly made her way towards the bare breasted woman.
After she had approached the woman once more, the slave spared her but a glance before hurrying out back into the hall, confused; Mulan dazedly followed suit. Her metal chest plate seemed to echo in the spacious corridor, and the almond eyed beauty hoped that the Hun's were too intoxicated to bother inspecting the noise. Feeling comfortable once she had suspected that they weren't being tailed, Mulan warily questioned the woman's motives.
"And just where are you leading me?"
The slave in turn seemed unconcerned by the question, instead hurrying her gait to an even faster pace. "Somewhere safe," she answered dismissively, her voice nearly lost as she turned a corner.
Mulan, hastily trying to match the woman's stride, was not so easily placated. "And if there was such a place, then why are you not in it?"
The slave turned her heard towards her at the question, her hooded eyes betraying her displeasure at the array of questions. "Because I suspected that if I were in it, you wouldn't be. I'm well aware of how close you and the Masters' chambers are to the front gates, and I was proven right in assuming that you would be unable to make it out unscathed."
Head cocked in confusion, the young girl could not keep her tongue silent. "You have risked your life in order to save mine?"
"Yes," she snapped shortly, closing and tying her robes as if she too had just remembered what she had sacrificed.
Mulan, not wishing to seem ungrateful, was sure to express her gratitude. "I offer you my thanks my lady, for I suspect that none other would have taken the risk."
Smirking humorlessly, the slave spoke once more, "I accept your thanks mistress, but I do feel the need to inform you than I am not a lady," she reminded Mulan, her voice dry.
This time it was the disguised girl's turn to smirk, though the effect was hidden under her helmet. "And I am certainly no Hun, but appearances can be deceiving," she chuckled, hoping for her tone to portray her amusement.
Fortunately, it did, thus causing the slave to look her over once more, her gaze seemingly thoughtful. "Yes my lady, so it would seem."
-oOo—
They had ended up stopping short of Shang's mother's chambers, the door just as richly decorative as the rest of the courts. Perplexed, Mulan was unsure of how the Hun's would be unable to miss it.
As if reading her thoughts, the slave pushed open the large door, and the sight that greeted Mulan was a scene that she vaguely suspected. Tables were thrown over, silks ripped, and the room looked to be just as demolished as the rest of the drunken army's workings. However, the Lady of the room herself was nowhere in sight.
"I thought you said that she was safe!" She demanded, before locking her accusing gaze back onto the offender.
The slave proceeded to ignore her angry stance, and instead pushed away a tall mirror that had somehow remained upright. Upon the removal of it, Mulan was shocked to see another, albeit smaller door.
"And that she is," she soothed, "And so will you be if you stop questioning me and proceed to follow suit."
Sheepishly, the raven haired beauty nodded, before watching as the woman pushed back the handle and made her way in. Immediately, the small murmur that Mulan initially heard died down, although it was quick to pick up once they spotted who the intruder was.
"Chen! You are back, have the courts been cleared yet?" A young voice questioned, and Mulan frowned as she wondered just how young some of the maidens that the General bought were.
Scowling, Chen shook her head, the dim light of the chamber reflecting off the fine silver pieces that were streamed throughout her hair. "No my dear, but I have found the mistress, and thankfully she is unharmed."
Now having glanced back, Mulan took that as her cue to enter. Gasps immediately sounded due to her appearance, and the armored girl watched as the young maidens proceeded to cower back in fear.
"Hush now you silly fools, are you truly so simple? Chen has just announced that she found my son's wife, and surely even you girls can tell that she is in disguise," a mature voice reprimanded, and Mulan couldn't help but to peek through her helm fold at her mother in law, thankful to see that she appeared to be in no worse for wear.
"She is right," Mulan confirmed, making sure that Mushu had slithered down her back before pulling off her helmet. "It is me."
The girls relaxed noticeably at this, although some seemed embarrassed due to their daftness.
Breathing in the cool air deeply, she was pleasantly surprised when the older woman spoke once more. "Now are you to leave her to roast? Help her out of her armor!" She demanded, her voice having now gone cross.
The young servants, not wanting to displease their lady any further, quickly scrambled over to the sweating girl, their nimble fingers tussling with the knots.
Thankfully, Mushu seemed to think ahead, for now he slithered into Mulan's robes, his cool claws upon her bare shoulders causing Mulan to grimace. And although the sweating beauty was somewhat uncomfortable with the act, she knew that her dragon was honorable, and had but no other choice.
However, with these young maidens being unused to such armory, it had taken the servants longer than Mulan would have liked for them to slide her out of it as a whole. Now, with her feet bare, hair tangled, and body sweating, she was quick to believe that she had somehow looked even worse than before.
"Thank you," she muttered, not bothering to sound appreciative in the least. Having nearly died numerous times today, the almond eyed girl was sure that she could afford to be lacking in mannerisms.
The girls in turn just bowed before her, and the tiniest one, whom Mulan guessed to be the one to have spoken earlier, made way to do so again, although she was quickly silenced by the sound of someone bursting into the main foyer.
Now they were all truly nervous, for whoever was in the room was sure to be a Hun. Breath held, Mulan closed her eyes as she heard someone approach the door. Cursing the gods for their cruel tricks, she felt Mushu tense beneath her, and could only watch with ongoing horror as the door burst open.
Revealing the face of none other than,
"Mulan?"-
-Her husband.