Author's Note: Someone wondered what Shen having a panda nightmare would be like, and this is the warped direction my mind went. This has been moved over from my old account.
Disclaimer: I own nothing
A Dream of Death
"I did it! I did it! I came! I saw! I conquered!"
After an entire lifetime of doubt and fear, Lord Shen had proved the naysayers wrong! He'd proved himself to himself, and from the topmost balcony he saw all of China sprawled in golden light before him. He'd fought, and he'd won. At long last he'd won! He'd defied destiny itself, and he was not merely lord of Gongmen City but Lord now of all China.
"I did it!" He crows his jubilation, perched proudly on his father's throne, train spread in its magnificent alabaster expanse, across the teal and gold backdrop, as he looked down on golden sunlight spilling like honey through the streets below, where thousands-tens of thousands bowed and cheered, giving him his due.
"Mother! Father! I succeeded. Your dynasty- our family legacy will live on as the greatest China's ever seen! I did it!" He grinned and he laughed giddy with joy and excitement. At last he felt proud of himself. At last they would be proud of him too. He was worthy. He'd always been worthy, and he'd finally proven it. "So you did son," his father said flatly. Despite his euphoria, a tendril of worry squirmed in his chest, but he kept his grin fixed in place, choosing to ignore it for surely he was mistaken. Surely his parents were proud now, and just needed a few moments to wrap their heads around it. Surely, that had to be it?
Biting down on his impatience he forced himself to bite back on his tongue, in favour of hearing the words he'd always wanted to hear, but nothing else was forth coming, and it was getting harder to ignore his growing paranoia. The worry was becoming a bludgeoning thing, and he waved at the golden streets, and China limned in soft yellow light, hoping the sight beyond the balcony would spur some further words on their part.
"All of China is mine. The world bows before me." He needled them with words, but apart from his father stepping nearer the balcony, and his mother approaching his opposite side, nothing else happened, and he shook his head before uttering a faint defiant laugh.
This couldn't be happening. This couldn't possibly- "Is that all you can say?" His voice trembled in fear and anger.
"What more do you want us to say?" His mother asked on his left, and when he looked at her, there was no pride in her eyes. There was only the solemn face of a panda, but her shift in appearance, didn't faze him. She was still his mother, but her words-the audacity of that question. His beak opened and shut, as he struggled to put voice to his thoughts.
"Wha-? What?! What else is there?! What do you mean? I defeated destiny! I proved the Soothsayer wrong! All of them- Wong! I am Lord of all China now! Are you not proud of me?"
That he even had to ask burned hot in his breast, and his throat blistered with pins and needs, as a painful lump clotted his airway. How? How could this be-? It wasn't right! He'd done it! He'd succeeded! Achieved his dreams! More than most could have claimed to have done in their lifetimes, and it still wasn't enough. It would never be enough. He'd never be enough.
"Son."
His father's voice cut the silence before despair could overwhelm him, and he sounded so remorseful, so sorrowful, and apologetic, that Shen chest was filled with rekindled hope. He cared not that his father too had become a panda garbed in the same brilliant silken robes, he'd worn as a peacock. Shen sat where he was quivering with desperate anticipation, hanging to his father's every word.
"Do you not see what you have done?" The panda with his father's voice gestured outward, and where there had been once been misty blue mountains, rolling hills of green, and a harbour of cerulean water glittering in the sunrise, surrounding Gongmen city was stained red and black. The pristine beautiful image darkened with rot, and a red sky stained everything bloody. The air was heavy smelling of ash and soot, and he was choking on the horror of his father's words, and the insurmountable mountain of his failings.
Where the crowds had been cheering, there were bodies. Endless rows of broken bodies, hanging from stakes- each and every one- black, white, red stained and purifying.
No! No! No! It wasn't right-!
"How could we ever be proud?" His mother's voice asked.
Metal rang, and he leapt from the throne narrowly avoiding a silver blade of flame so much like his own, but his movements were all wrong. He was too slow, unable to move fast enough, as he reached from his knives.
Heart hammering in his throat he threw them at his own father, bearing down on him, in the shape of a panda, and despite the fear, anger, and deep deep betrayal he sobbed. The knives went wide, because his panda parents moved faster than he could.
"I'm your son! I'm your son!"
The words barely made it from his beak, before he dodged yet another swipe of silver metal, and still he was barely moving, every motion weighed down, and all he knew was sheer panic.
"What did I do?! Why is it not enough?! Tell me!" Knives clashed in the air, and fell like lethal rain between him and his father.
"Why aren't you proud? What did I do wrong? I don't understand! How can I make you proud? How can I make you love me?" The knives he flung went wide. Off the balcony, clattering against the throne.
And dodging a stab to the chest, he tripped, falling into a graceless heap, as two panda with the eyes of his parents loomed over him. The last knife he held trembled, but for all his fear he couldn't do it. He couldn't bring himself to kill them. For all the misery they'd put him through they were still his parents, and he was still the same lonely child desperate for their affections.
"Please tell me, tell me how to fix this. Tell me how. Please!" He glanced to the side. His mother even covered in black and white fur, was as silent as ever, passively standing idle on the side. "Please, Mom, please. Help me! What can I do to make you proud?"
She stared at him with, from a panda's face, with no love, nor pity. She didn't even care enough to look disappointed. There was nothing but emotionless apathy, and that hurt more than all the rage ever could, and he couldn't bear to look at her a second more.
"Father please. Please don't do this." Of the panda wielding his weapons he genuinely terrified. "Please, just tell me what I did wrong. Tell me how to fix it-how to make you proud."
The flame shaped metal winked cruelly.
"How could we ever be proud," the panda growled in his father's voice, "when you're the one who killed us?"