Disclaimer: All mention of Mulan and Company is copyright and owned by the Walt Disney Company. For those unable to understand the above: I own nothing.
Summary: Li Shang ponders on his anger for a former soldier.
This is my first Mulan fanfiction. Flames and critics are accepted, but flamers probably would give me one even if I didn't accept any.
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I hate her. Hate her with a passion that surprised me.
She lied to me. Her commanding officer! She lied! And, although I didn't want to admit defeat to a mere girl, it hurt.
I should've seen it. Ping was, I admit, strange and awkward, but never seemed to be disguising anything. Ping wasn't a woman, and even now, Mulan isn't the type most men dream of. Mulan's a skinny girl, with absolutely no sense of dignity, obligations, and definitely no idea of what a man looks for in a woman. Basically—beauty, serenity, grace… Mulan has none of that. But somehow, I think that if she did, I wouldn't have, well…
The way to the palace is quiet and frightening. Even Chi-Fu seems to understand he should keep his mouth shut. I look at the troops near me, mainly the ones whom seemed to get along with Pi—Mulan, the best. They're depressed and solemn. How can they act this way? Didn't she lie to them to? Don't they feel betrayed? Hurt?
I spy Chien-Po. He looks at me strangely, like he knows something I don't. I glare at him, willing his eyes to turn away. He doesn't; his eyes are glued to mine. But, finally his eyes turn, his head shaking in… disappointment?
"Move quickly", I say to the troops, "the sooner we tell the Emperor of our victory, the sooner we may see our loved ones."
What did I just say? "Our Victory?" There is no victory in war. It wasn't even our victory, it was her's…
---
We reach the outskirts of the city sooner than I expect. Perhaps because it is so quiet. Some troops smile slightly, weary of our way of life these few months. I am too, but I never thought it would be so burdening to live a life of a soldier.
Suddenly, I feel someone watching. The Huns? I look around, back the way we came, and for a moment, I think I see a lone rider. A black stallion-like horse, with a rider as mysterious as the wind. But it is just an apparition, for when I blink, the one I seem to see is no longer there.
---
The city is full of light; a light of warmth that envelopes me as we draw near. I see the citizens, even the women, gathering, smiling gently. Instead of feeling calm, I feel like retching, the bitter taste of bile in my mouth. What shall His Majesty say if he knew? What will happen to her? Is a magnolia blossom far more precious than a crown jewel?
Even now, even though I declare my hatred, she still clouds my mind. Almost as if she is here—
A horse neighs, and the hooves ring through my ears as black flashes in front of me.
"Shang!" "Mulan?" Her name is spoken as a whisper, more caring and worried and surprised than out of fury and spite.
"The Huns are alive; they're in the city!"
Suddenly I remember who she was, angrily telling her, "You don't belong here, Mulan. Go home!"
She responds just as urgent as before, "Shang, I saw them in the mountains, you have to believe me!"
But I did more than that, didn't I? I trusted you…"Why should I?"
"Why else would I come back? …You said you trust Ping. Why is Mulan any different?"
I can't answer that...
---
"…Your father would've been very proud", the Emperor says gently.
Proud? I almost…almost killed—I hear something, and I am pushed to the ground, yelling, as the conscience part of my mind sees two of the Huns snatch the man who had shown me so much kindness and love. I let out a hoarse cry and I run to the door, doing everything—anything that doesn't make me look like a fool. I know it is futile, but I call over the troops to break down the door; it won't work, but I need something to vent out my frustration on.
I hear a whistle, and we turn around. She is there—wearing the army clothing, looking unashamed and confident. "I've got an idea," she says.
After all, when you're going to die, you've got nothing to lose...
I left most of my troops back at the door, just in case. Still, the few who had followed were her friends. They trust her, like she was some Shinto Goddess, even now, as she was fated to die—by enemy or by country.
She never askes me to follow. I can't blame her, but I can't see the Emperor die. But it shames me—I'd die for the Emperor, but I would give my soul for a skinny nobody without dignity, duty, beauty, or grace.
She leaves and returns a few minutes later, with three awkward "concubines", whom I instantly recognized. Fools. Who would get away with cross-dressing?
She would.
---
She had a certain spark in her eyes as she smiles at me; mere relief—I presume. We land in some concubine's room. We are all dumbfounded; she smirks and holds out a bowl of fruit.
"Why would a girl like you be in the army, anyway?" Yao asks, gruffly, "Don't you have a husband to grieve over?"
The girl glances at me before she resumes slipping two red apples down Ling's bosom. She smiles sadly, barely whispering to all of us, not just Yao, "No."
She nods slowly to herself, hesitant, surveying her handiwork; but then she grabs my hand, almost running toward the door.
I notice that as we approach the corridor, she never lets go.
---
As she explains her plan, I notice what she wears. A simple dress: silky blue and white and red and black. Perfect.
"Something wrong?" she asks. I can see the others snigger, for they have seen my intense stare.
I shake my head no, and for effect, I slap Yao as he makes a crude joke. She just rolls her eyes, muttering, "Men."
The four of them step toward the Hun guards, but only she is able to do it perfectly. More divine and polished courtiers would do better, but she is something mystical and clumsy all at the same time.
Unfortunately, my gaze draws the attention of Shan-Yu's falcon, but I run for it, and out of the corner of my eye, I see a flash of red, but not the falcon's warning cry or the dull gray colors of its wings.
---
I feel Shan-Yu's grip tighten around me, as he rages, "You took away my victory!" But then, his grip loosens as I hear a cry. She is there, defiant and proud.
"I did."
That single statement sends my enemy into a fit of rage, and I worry for her. Shan-Yu whispers something I cannot hear, but—the stupid girl—cuts the rope meant for her escape.
I want to rush to her side, to help her, to keep her safe; but I cannot, for I remember the cut Shan-Yu gave me minutes ago, and the pain is blinding.
"Mulan..."
---
I awake to the sound of fireworks.
Of all the times a captain loses conscience...
Thankfully there are no Huns to take care of as I run through the doors to the emperor. Something heavy is hurled on my body, and I quickly notice it is her. Instinct takes over me, and I pull her into my arms—as I was trained to help protect innocent women—before we fall.
She looks at me in disbelief. I am quite sure I do the same.
---
I hate the man with my life.
"She's a hero!" I yell.
He brushes me off, "She is a woman! That creature will never be worth any--"
Rage surges through me, as I yell, "Listen, you pompous--"
Every imaginable curse prepares to spit itself out of my mouth, but then, a quiet, regal, contained voice commands, "That is enough!"
I kneel quickly before the emperor. My last hope was to beg, ask for mercy, anything and everything to keep her safe…
But the kind man waves me aside.
"I heard a great deal about you, Fa Mulan," he says, and I flinch at the way he says her name; he knows too much to spare her. But the emperor continues, "You stole your father's armor and ran away from home! impersonated a soldier!"
I flinch, for his voice booms with every declaration. Chi-Fu looks absolutely gleeful. Yet, I cannot help but admire this woman. All this dishonor you face; all these secrets you've kept; all this I have fallen for…
"Deceived your commanding officer! dishonored the Chinese Army! destroyed my palace!
"And…"
I flinch once more, and tremble as I wait to hear the last words before the execution is set. I see Chien-Po and the others shudder. Chi-Fu is delighted, and pauses to catch his breath, but she seems to take it all in stride. She neither holds her breath, nor closes her eyes; taking it in as calm as the springtime breeze carries away falling cherry blossom petals.
"…You have saved us all."
All of us are stunned as the man I've revered for so long bows slightly to the frail body of a mere girl. His bow is not as deep as others, mainly Chi-Fu, who has fallen flat on the floor, but even so, a slight nod of the head from the Emperor is worth words of praise from half of China!
I finally bow down before the woman she has become, as she turns around in awe. And, even more disgracefully, breaches all etiquette and embraces the regal old man. For the first time in my life, I begin to understand the cold life His Majesty lives—untouchable and lonely—as my own arms long for the warmth of her body.
The soldiers and I fight back a grin as the Emperor bluntly offers to fire Chi-Fu, but she declines. Whichever option she chooses, she will be dead to me. If she accepts the position, I am forbidden to even look at her, and if she decides to leave and return home, I will not be able to see her again…
---
My smile disappears as I watch her leave the city. If only my relationship with her was as close as she is with Khan… The stallion was a remarkable creature; at times, almost as if it had a clear personality, unlike so many of the other horses in the royal stable. But I was not thinking of the horse as much as I was of its mistress.
Someone clears his throat behind me, and I am startled to see the Emperor there.
"A flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all."
"Sir?" What did he mean? Surely not…
Yet, his eyes roll in impatience. What are you waiting for, fool? His gaze seems to say.
"You don't meet a girl like that every dynasty!"
I struggle to wipe that bumpkin's grin off my face, but to no avail, for he, as well as Ling, Yao, and Chien-Po have already seen it.
---
"Well, well! Pretty boy here is drunk!" Yao says, snatching the remainder of my precious wine.
The barkeeper, a friend of mine, smirks, "She'll be getting married soon if you won't chase after her, Shang! You've been promoted to General; how many girls will resist you?"
Ling adds, "Who knew little Ping could cause such commotion?"
"She's not Ping anymore, she's Fa Mulan! Fa Mulan, the girl I'm in love with!" I stammer drunkenly.
"Fa Zhou's only child," my barkeeping friend says, "I am friends with the Fa family. Last I heard, the girl angered Matchmaker so, Matchmaker threatened the girl will never marry! And you.. you fell in love with her!"
I murmur something drunkenly.
My friend smacks my head, "Think, man! she's spoiled by her parents! she's a girl! What kind of family has a spoiled daughter for an only child.
"But the girl! Ha! a tigress, more like! She's a one of a kind, I know."
Great, now the tavern-keeper is giving me courting advice.
By now Ling and Yao have left. Only Chien-Po is there, nodding his head quietly. He takes out some things from his sack—a flask and the helmet.
"Drink," he says. I do so, and something scalds my head; multiple fireworks explode in my mind.
"Family recipe. Cures drunken madness," he explains, handing the helmet to me, "I'm sure Mulan, or at least her father, would like it back."
I'm too dumbfounded to say anything. My tavern friend just fills two cup of wine—but Cien-Po declines, declaring it impure-- and drinks, nodding at me, "Invite me to the wedding, okay, Shang?"
---
The peasant girl raises an eyebrow as I ask for directions, but points anyway to the big walled mansion that sits at the end of the village. How could I have missed it? It is the biggest and most beautiful.
Clearly wealthy nobles live there, but they were not haughty or proud like Chi-Fu; the people who lived there had chosen, for a good reason, they would live modestly. War has taken its toll on General Fa Zhou.
There are two women in the courtyard, one middle-aged, with a calming aura, and the other, an elderly grandmother with a lively sense of life.
"Excuse me, does Fa Mulan live here?"
The two nod, staring at me, and as I pass, I hear the older one say, "Ooh, sign me up for the next war!" I have to bite back a laugh.
The father and daughter sit in the garden, looking so serene. My eyes widen in horror, as I recall how my father told me of General Zhou's triumphs, to see it all fall apart as the crippled man rose to greet me.
"Noble, Fa Zhou, I—Mulan!" My surprise is evident as she smiles at me; I thought she would have left us. Unfortunately, my ancestors were not as good to me as I had hoped.
"Well, actually, it's your helmet isn't it? I mean--" Shut up, Shang, before you get kicked out!
But General Fa seems to understand, as he even lets her take the helmet from me. She smiles gently, 'Would you like to stay for dinner?"
That would be great!
"Would you like to stay forever," The grandmother yells.
That's even better!
But she is already shaking her head no, even though secretly, I want to object. But still,
"Dinner would be great!"
---
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Whoo! My first Mulan fic. Maybe if I get enough reviews, I'll even add an epilogue on "After Dinner!" or "Ten Years Later", but with a very catchy title :nudgenudgehinthint:
IS THERE ANY WAY TO BREAK THE STORY WITHOUT HAVING TO USE THE THIN BAR? I HATE IT!