The march towards the front was a long, weary thing. The days were hot and the nights were cold as time wore on and they slowly began to move up into the mountains. Ping couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that had crept up on him every time he stopped long enough to think though. Like an ominous cloud that threatened to storm on them, Ping's discomfort was there as a constant, unwelcome presence.

The journey could have been enjoyable otherwise, as the sky was bright and the patch work of paddy fields that were over looked by the villages that were dotted along reminded him of the home he had long since left behind.

The men were still complaining about the length of their journey, but Ping was aware that Shang had been incredibly quiet as they trekked along. Handing Tianma's reins to Chien-Po, the young man jogged to the head of their company to walk beside Shang's horse.

"How are you feeling?" He called up to his love, resting on hand on Yeung's side as he watched.

"Me? I'm fine. Ready to be at the front and- ... I'm fine."

"Shang." Ping softly sighed, reaching a hand out the touch the man's leg.

Shang responded by bring Ping up to sit in front of him. Once the younf man's back was pressed to the broad chest, then Ping felt himself start to relax for the first time since they had set out.

"We should have had word. Months of training and we only had one message." The quiver in Shang's voice expressed the fear that his face hid.

Ping brought his legs up and shifted around in the embrace so that he could hold Shang. A flurry of thoughts whirled through his mind, but none of them struck Ping as something to bring comfort. The training he had undergone had given Ping a confidence in his body that he had never before possessed, but he still tended to stumble over his words,thoughts falling unchecked from his lips when he allowed his nervous brain the chance to speak.

So Ping held his tongue as he pressed close to Shang.

After all, what could he say? 'I'm sure it's not so bad? Maybe he just forgot? You worry too much?' Ping wished he could ask Mushu for help, but the guardian was sleeping in the wagon, hidden away from the eyes of the soldiers.

"Thank you." Shang whispered softly as they rode on.

"What for?" Ping murmured, the steady trot of Yeung causing his eyes to droop.

If there was a reply, Ping missed it as he fell into an exhausted sleep.

"Ping? Hey, wake up?"

Shang's voice was warm against his ear as he roused Ping, the strong arms that had held him now pushing him back.

"Shang?" Ping murmured, peeling his eyes open and rubbing at the grit in them.

"Hey, sleepy head!" Shang chuckled, rubbing a hand through Ping's scruffy hair before he slid off his horse. Ping followed quietly, looking around at the men who were busy making camp. Chien-Po caught his eye and gave him a gentle smile.

Shang took his hand and lead him off to the side, hidden behind not only the tents that had been erected, but one of the trees that they were likely using as shelter from the biting wind.

"Feeling better?" Shang asked, cupping Ping's face between his palms.

"I hope people aren't too annoyed I fell asleep."

"I believe you're on first watch." laughed Shang, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

Ping chased him as he pulled away, tugging him down to kiss him properly. The young man enjoyed kissing more than he had ever expected, the wet slide of lips was far more arousing than disgusting and the overwhelming feel of Shang as he pushed Ping against the trunk of the tree gave a feeling of safety that he hadn't experienced anywhere else.

Ping had never kissed anyone else like this in his life, and although he had more enthusiasm than skill, Shang didn't seem to mind; in fact, Shang rather seemed to enjoy teaching Ping how to give and receive this type of affection. They had spent several evening on the journey out to the front wrapped up in each other, Ping in Shang's lap with the older man's hands roaming his body. It was, to be truthful, thrilling to know that someone found him so attractive, especially after years of his mother quietly lamenting his clumsiness and lack of interest in others.

Not that they had gone any further. Not only was Ping aprehensive about taking the next step, but Shang refused to do so while they were travelling to war. The captain enjoyed inventing fantasies about how he would have Ping though, and he would whisper them into the darkness as they lay together at night.

Ping's favourite by far was not a story of soft romance in some apartment in the city, nor did it take place in the safety of their very own cottage in the country. Rather, Ping liked to hear about a future where he had taken Chi-Fu's job and travelled as a scribe where ever Shang went, where they had a future together even as they rocked each other to release in a tent. Shang preferred to to dream of a home in a small town, where he could teach boys to fight and Ping could get involved with the town itself, often they had their siblings nearby. Thankfully though, Shang had never suggested that they return to Ping's village together and brave his parents' disapproval.

"Come on." Shang pulled back, a grin on his face as he looked down at Ping's flushed face. "We should get back and help."

"When are you on watch?" Ping asked as he turned and began to walk towards the fire that had been set.

"With you." Shang slipped his hand into Ping's as they moved. "It's cold at night, I'm not sleeping alone."

The younger smiled, but said nothing as he sat down to help strip the flesh from the rabbits that had been caught. The nights were getting colder and most of the mn were sharing now.

"He'd better learn to keep his hands to himself." Mushu muttered as he slid into Ping's tunic, his small body colder than the man had expected of a fire-breathing guardian.

"Don't you go biting him." he breathed as he gripped his blade.

"I'll leave that to you." snorted the dragon, his misery evident in his voice.

"He makes me happy." Ping tried to placate his guardian, not wanting to piss off his ancestors by annyoing their representative too much.

"Yeah. We'll see." Mushu grumbled, but he spoke no more on the matter.

Ping sighed as he chucked meat into the pot on the fire. The bad feeling hadn't dissapated; he still felt like he was waiting for something bad to happen, and looking up into the wondered if it had to do with what they would find when they approached the main army.

Ping didn't know what they would be coming up against; he had no experience in anything like this to imagine what might be waiting for them other than the cold. It had to be worse to Shang though, who had both been in battle before and was close to at least one person out there; Ping hoped that as they marched closer to his father, the inauspicious air would thin out into nothing.

He had a feeling that it wouldn't.