A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed last time! I forgot to attach a disclaimer to this story, so here it is now—I do not own Mulan.

Edited May 15th 2006 (just fixed the random italics on the bottom of the page and fixed a few typos).

Third chapter in progress; please excuse the length of time since the last update.

Chapter Two

Chang'an…

The morning crowds parted all down the narrow streets as the Imperial Calvary came tearing down the cobblestone, whips cracking and banners flailing, refusing to slow even as a confused old woman wandered into their path. Her grown son only just grabbed her out of the way when the riders galloped furiously pass, sending the filthy puddle water from last night's rain showering over them.

The son knew better than to voice his anger, and instead wiped his face dry with only a low sneer of disgust. "Such swiftness. Majordomo Chi Fu must have sent them to fetch his morning tea."

A passer-by laughed, hearing the son, but informed him otherwise. "No, boy. Those were the Emperor's personal messengers. Whatever decree rides with them holds infinite more importance."

As the passer-by moved on, the son couldn't help but doubt his words highly.

"Refreshments?"

Cri-Kee gave a shrill chirp of confirmation and Mushu checked it off his list.

Mushu was growing ever more frantic as the hour of the nuptials approached. Although only Mulan, Khan, and Cri-Kee were aware of his existence, Mushu had taken upon himself to organize the event and shortly thereafter he learned he'd better stick to his day job. Guide a peasant girl through the military and make her a war hero? Yeah, he could handle that. Seat the wedding guests in alphabetical order? Not a chance!

"Okay, okay…uh…" Mushu paced agitatedly. "What's next? Oh lord! Where's the daddy? Where's proud Father Fa?"

Cri-Kee tried to calm him down, but Mushu was already working himself into a frenzy.

"Oh lord! Mulan's gonna be hitched and he's gonna miss it! It'll be bang, and Mulan's gone…forever." His lip began to tremble. "My little baby is leaving us." The pint-sized dragon could stand it no longer. He let out a wail and threw himself onto Cri-Kee.

As he rolled his eyes, Cri-Kee caught sight of the man in question, walking more stiffly than usual across the lawn, making his way up the garden path to the house. Fa Zhou, as always, conducted himself with the steadfast seriousness that had been drilled into him during his days with the Imperial Army. Today a matter of urgency seemed to be pressing his lips into a thin line.

Cri-Kee gave Mushu a little shove and pointed in the direction of Fa Zhou.

The dragon snapped back to composure. "Okay, good. That's another sucker down." He made a tick on his scroll and scanned it for the next item.

"Where's the carriage? Who took the damn carriage; it was right here a minute ago! I swear, if I find out…"

Cri-Kee sighed. It was going to be one long morning.

Her father had wanted a word with her mother alone, and so Mulan had thankfully took the opportunity to slink away to the solitude of her bedroom. Most of her things had been packed away for the move tomorrow, but she had left a few precious items out; she was still mulling over the possibility of parting with them.

Mulan's fingers traveled delicately over the trinkets and playthings of her childhood. She smiled at a favorite doll but resisted the temptation to add it to her luggage. What use for it would a wife have, anyway? Mulan moved from the shelf to her bed. Heedless of the possibility of snagging her precious gown on the rough floor, Mulan got down on all fours and reached under the mattress.

First there was the Emperor's medallion. She had decided long ago that it would remain with family, an eternal reminder of the honor she had brought them. Also, she figured Mushu would be devastated if she took it, and honestly, he was more proud of it than she was. Now often seen strutting around the shrine, Mushu had gained untold respect from the Ancestors thanks to the medallion. Mulan wiped the gathering dust from its surface and set it aside.

She reached further under her bed, her fingertips feeling around for a sword handle. Mulan drew the sword out and balanced it on her two palms, examining the familiar nicks and curves of the blade. This she was keeping. Mulan had come to know the Shan Yu's sword as well as that great slash of a scar it had given her across her side. She gripped the handle, and as always, a flood of chilling memories came rushing back.

She was Ping, struggling with a flint as the Hun Warlord came barreling down upon her. She was dangling, dangling off the edge of the palace rooftop as he took a swipe at her. She was doomed, being taunted as he anticipated his revenge…

Mulan tore her eyes open to reality and threw the sword down. Trying to convince herself that she was still indeed a bride-to-be in her bright bedroom, not a cowering solider in the icy Tung Xi'ao Pass, she felt her frantic heartbeat slow considerably. The man may have died that night in Chang'an, but his presence lingered on.

"You're not looking at that thing again, are you?"

Her father, Fa Zhou, stood in the doorway, his face fixed with his usual half-frown.

Again? Her flush wasn't visible under the heavy make-up. How long had her father been aware of her daily ritual? How many times had he seen her remove the sword from it's hiding place, examining the serrated metal like some clue to the workings of it's dead owner's mind?

Mulan rose. "I-I was just deciding if I should keep it—or leave it here, that is."

He moved slowly into the room, looking from the weapon on the floor to his daughter, almost unrecognizable as the bride in red. "You should leave it here. It would be for the best."

She knew what he actually meant. Leave it here and get over it. Leave it here and forget about the war, the Huns, the Shan Yu. Leave it here and move on with your life.

There was an awkward pause only broken when Fa Li entered cautiously the bedroom, wearing an expression like she was tiptoeing on good china. "Have you told her yet," she asked her husband.

"Told me what?"

Fa Zhou looked almost sorry. "Mulan, child, there's been a problem."

………

The ordeal of seating the guests had gone smoother than he had anticipated, and now there was nothing for Mushu to do but pace around, agitatedly waiting for Mulan to make an appearance. From his hiding place in the bushes he stopped to survey his handiwork.

With strips of parchment, Cri-Kee had inked the name of each of the guest and together they had worked out the best possible arrangement. For starters, he had placed Mulan's army pals, Ling, Chien-Po, and Yao as far away from Shang's mother as possible, so that their antics would be out of the formidable-looking woman's earshot. Mushu had also made sure Mulan's best, old buddy, the Matchmaker, had clear view of the good-for-nothing bride tying the knot with the Captain Shang.

Mushu had done perfectly. Now, where was the bride?

"Leave it to her to be late for a wedding held at her own house!"

Grumbling, Mushu bound towards the house, intent on hurrying that girl up. He was about to slip in through the door when it swung open, sending the dragon flying into the hedges. Out crashed Mulan, taking long strides down the slope of the lawn to where the guests where seated by the pond.

He spat out a leaf and shouted after her, "Hey, wait! We went over this! You're supposed to take the carriage down! See—there…to your right! No, you past it! Hey! Mulan! You ain't following the plan!" Mushu was still shouting when Mulan's parents came hurrying after their daughter, unknowingly trampling the dragon. Body twisted and face ground into he dirt, he muttered, "You people need to start showing some appreciation around here."

There came low mutterings as Mulan, almost unrecognizable in her ornaments, entered on foot instead of in the ceremonial carriage. She stepped onto the dais and called for their attention. Perhaps it was the makeup, but she looked oddly removed, like a glassy-eyed porcelain doll sitting limp on a store shelf.

"There's been a problem," she said, echoing her father. "It seems…" she trailed off. "Captain Li Shang was unable…unable to make it today. I apologize on his behalf. The wedding will not be going ahead…not today…"

She stumbled back down off the dais and held her composure until she was entirely out of sight.

Response to Reviews:

Thank you all so much for the encouraging reviews! Don't worry, Shang will make an appearance later! I've also seen variations on the spelling of "Chang'an" and it could be debated as to which one is the correct one, but much thanks for the advice!

Please review! Pretty please: )

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