Disclaimer: This work of fan fiction uses characters from Rise of the Guardians, The Guardians of Childhood, and Frozen which are trademarked by DreamWorks Animation, William Joyce, and the Walt Disney Company respectively. The author of this story claims no ownership over them. The story the author is telling is of her own invention and it is not purported or believed to be part of the canon storyline. This story is made for entertainment purposes only. The author is not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story.

Silk and Bamboo

Prologue

Heartbroken, I cannot bear to sweep them away;

From my eyes, spring soon disappears.

I pine with passing; heart's desire lost for eye;

Nothing is left but a robe stained with tears.

– Falling Flowers, Li Shang-Yin

Fire and flames.

Blazing yellow and red.

It burns.

Burns.

Burns.

This will be the end, won't it?

The entire room is lit aflame with pale-coloured, transparent curtains fluttering into ashes, lacquered wood tables and chairs burning into dust, and the entire structure collapsing in on itself.

The Emperor is injured. The benevolent, aging ruler stands with his golden robes in tatters, crimson-stained with blood.

The Empress sits on the ground, her arms wrapping around her eldest daughter, shielding her child from the rising inferno blazing in the chambers. She silently thanks the Gods above that her youngest child was not there.

"My dearest," she calls to her husband, watching as he desperately tries to find a way towards the doors through toppling pillars and beams. He turns and she could see determination dying in his eyes. But then his eyes travel down to his daughter. The Crown Princess, seventeen years. But a child really – his darling child. What a young sovereign she would make. But what a great sovereign she will be.

He turns again, suddenly ramming his body into the pillars with all his might. Again. Again. The sound of wood scrapping against wood resonates through the roar of fire and the pillar fell, clearing a path to the doors of the chamber.

"Dearest!" the Empress cries once more, but it was too late. There is a mighty crack as another pillar falls, collapsing on top the Emperor.

Crushing him.

"Father!" screams the Crown Princess, she runs, trying to push the burning piece of wood off her father with bare hands.

The rising flames cracking and roaring in her ears like starving lions. It burns.

Burns.

Burns.

"No. Stop. Go, my child," the Emperor says, the weight of the pillar pressing down on him. "Go, get the guards."

"No," she sobs. "I won't leave you."

"You must."

"Go, my daughter," the Empress says, stopping the child from clawing at the broken pillar. "I'll stay here with your father, retrieve the guards, quickly."

The girl holds her tongue, reluctantly getting to her feet. She quickly but clumsily climbs over the pile of wood and makes her way to the door.

"Hang on, Father, you'll be okay," she whispers to herself as she runs.

"My love, you should go to," the Emperor says. The Empress smiles, sadly, she sits down beside her husband. Flames licked at the hem of her skirts but she pays it no mind, taking the Emperor's hand in hers.

"No, I promised to stay with you," the Empress replies. The Emperor smiles weakly, coughing as blood dribbles from his lips. "In life until death."

"In life into death".

Act One

Among the blossoms, a single jar of wine.

No one else here, I ladle it out myself.

Raising my cup, I toast the bright moon,

and facing my shadow makes friends three.

– Drinking Alone Under the Moon, Li Bai

Scene One

The man sighed as he poured himself a full saucer of the strong, clear liquor, downing it all in one gulp. The alcohol slid down his throat like a hungry flame, bubbling in his stomach and dulling his senses. However, no amount of alcohol would drown out the noise in the teahouse, and nothing could keep his mind distracted of the looming future. But a man could try, and drowning himself in alcohol is the best method he could think off.

He was in one of the poorer parts of the city, trying to avoid bringing more attention to himself and no one here would question a man wearing a black mask and a rice hat. Aster was probably having an aneurysm looking for him. But, this could be one of his last days as a free man… his bodyguard could take a couple of hours of worrying.

The teahouse was getting rowdier, especially with the arrival of a large group of brutish looking fellows in dirtied robes, untamed hair, and armed with many weapons. The man had no desire to get involved with these people, and he knew that they were looking for trouble. So he tried to make quick work of the rest of his alcohol until a black cloak blocked his view.

"Sorry to disturb you," said the figure in black in an almost whisper. "There are no other free tables, may I sit?"

"Please, be my guest," he said, gesturing at the seat. The figure sat down slowly beside him and placed their hands on the table. Small hands gloved with plain brown leather that shook like branches in the winter wind.

It was a woman's hands.

Her cloak, though plain in appearance at first, was made of fine silk and he could catch a glimpse of shimmering crystal earrings peeking out of the hood of her cloak as she moved.

It wasn't just any woman, then. It was a woman of high nobility.

In one of the worst parts of the city.

He sighed, and called the serving girl over again and ordered another flask of alcohol and a cup of tea. When the drinks arrived, the man pushed the cup of tea over to the woman.

"You look a little cold," he said. She didn't move, and though he couldn't see her face through the shadow of the hood, he could guess that she was accessing the risks of accepting a drink from him.

"I'm not," she replied. But her fingers wrapped around the ceramic cup. "Thank you, though."

He nodded, pouring more hot alcohol into his saucer and pushed the warm liquid passed his lips.

"The city is freezing, though," the woman murmured. "This winter has dragged on for far too long."

He shrugged, swirling the remnants of liquor in his cup. "I don't mind it, though. Nuowei is quite beautiful in the winter."

She hummed, whether in agreement he knew not.

"But it cannot be Nuowei's winters that bring a noble from Wangshuang here."

"Who said I was from Wangshuang?" the man replied, unperturbed by the question. "I'm just a common man."

"Oh?" the woman questioned, and he could hear a teasing tone to her voice. "And it's normal for a common man to carry a jian embellished with designs distinctive of Wangshuang and an ornament made of blue jade?"

He paused with the saucer resting on his lips, his eyes flickering down to the sword tied to the sash on his hip. If he could see the woman's face, he'd guess that she had quite the grin on her face.

"If you weren't a noble, why then, you must be a common thief!"

The man laughed loudly, throwing his head back. He finished the rest of his cup of alcohol and slammed it down onto the table a little too forcefully. Perhaps he was a little drunk. He turned, leaning closer to the woman. She pressed back wearily.

"Alright then," he started. "What brings a lady of considerable birth doing down in the slums of Nouwei? And don't give me the 'I'm not a noble' garbage. Your cloak and gloves are made of silk and no peasant would know that my sword was foreign made."

The woman froze, gripping her cup with tense fingers.

"Caught you," he sung.

"I'll tell you if you tell me," she replied.

"Ooh, you drive a hard bargain," he teased but backed off, sighing as he inspected the half-empty flask. "But it's fair. I am avoiding something – the future, actually."

The woman pressed the cup to her lips. "I guess you could say I am avoiding the future, too."

He scoffed. "But what good will it do, right? I should have ordered you some alcohol instead."

He could hear her soft chuckles.

"Guess so."

She jumped suddenly, spilling tea into her lap when the sound of a smashing plate surprised her. He sighed again pouring more alcohol into his cup and pushed it towards her. She paid no attention to the cup of wine before her.

"Don't worry, fights often break out in the slums," he said, watching as tables were upturned, chairs tossed and smashed, food flying across the room, and a floating plate head straight for the woman's head.

Wait. What?

He tried to react quickly, jumping to his feet and sliding across the table. He drew his sword and sliced the offending plate in half in the same motion. But he might have had too much to drink and his balance was failing him as his vision swam with blurry colours. So when the plate clattered to the ground, so did he. Down they went and the man landed on top of the plate, yelping as shards of broken ceramic pierced his arm.

Government soldiers filed into the establishment then, garbed in dark blue cloaks and full regalia of the Sovereign. People had begun scattering, screaming as the soldiers shouted for order.

The man swore under his breath, checking to make sure his hat was still on his head and his mask securely in place. Getting involved with the authorities would blow his cover. The woman knelt beside him.

"We need to go. Now," she said, quickly hauled him to his feet. The scabbard of his sword was tucked under one arm as she pulled him towards the back door, trying to support his weight as he drunkenly followed, dragging his sword behind him.

"But my drink!"

Scene Two

The gentle whispering of the river was quite a change from the cacophony of the teahouse. He lay on the rocky ledge, dangling his feet over the cliff end with his eyes closed. He could almost fall asleep here with the snow underneath his back and melting snowflakes cooling his hot cheeks. But then a shadow blocked the cloudy light and the smell of food enticed his senses.

When he opened his eyes, he saw the black-cloaked woman standing above him holding a steaming hot baozi in her hands. He smiled, taking it before slowly trying to sit up without moving his injured right arm.

She sat down beside him with both her knees pressed against her chest, her hot steam bun sitting untouched in her hands.

"It's so quiet here," she said.

"Too quiet," he replied with his mouth half-full. "I miss the hustle and bustle of the city already."

"Sometimes, I do too,"

"So, what does the future hold for you?"

"Nothing important."

"Nothing important that a lady of the gentry decides to go to a teahouse in the slums and almost get involved in a fight."

"What's so important that a Wangshuang nobleman decides to get so drunk that he couldn't even walk straight?'

"Well, if I weren't there I wouldn't have met you!" he said. "And I weren't have been able to save you!"

"If I weren't there, then I wouldn't be able to patch you up after."

He mumbled under his breath, ending the argument there.

"An arrangement," he murmured then. "That will change my life."

The hood of the woman's cloak slipped just past her ears, and he could see her crystal earrings and strands of light-coloured hair. She had put the steamed bun down and folded her legs over the side, the flaps of her cloak opened, revealing a pale blue qun embroidered with white cranes along the hem.

"The future holds an arrangement for me too," she replied. "An arrangement that will shape the rest of my life. Perhaps the kingdom too."

"The kingdom?" he repeated loudly. "You speak as though you're the ruler. Perhaps the Empress herself!"

He stood, gesturing wildly to the heavens. "Imagine! The Empress of Nouwei rumoured never have left the palace walls, gracing the world with her esteemed presence by sitting in a teahouse in the slums of her nation."

He wobbled, shuffling to the side as he spoke. He bowed to the woman now, folding his hands into a fist in front of him flamboyantly. "Your Majesty! I am but a lowly – ow!"

The woman grabbed his injured arm, pulling him down.

"Sit down, you drunken fool," she said. "You're going to fall into the river. And I do not want to have to fish you out."

He grumbled to himself, rubbing his arm.

"Besides," the woman continued. "What if someone heard you?"

He laughed. "How fortunate for me then."

She took his arm then, pulling the sleeve of his robes over his elbow and examining her handiwork. The man's fall left several small pieces of ceramic embedded in the back of his forearm. The woman had picked out each piece, carefully inspecting for shards left behind, before wrapping his arm in a handkerchief. The man had not complained as she worked. The wounds left behind were jagged, some deeper than others but all were mismatched and unquestionably would scar.

"A noblewoman such as yourself surely has met the Empress," he said suddenly. "What is she like?" The woman stopped, pausing in her inspection for just a moment.

"I have not met her," she replied. "But I hope that she's kind. What do you think she's like?"

"I don't know," he replied. "Though I wonder."

The woman didn't reply, handing back his arm and reaching behind her to grab the scabbard of the man's sword. He watched as she stood, walking over to wear he discarded the weapon by the edge of a tree. She picked up the sword, the metal glinting against the light of the snow. The woman inspected the weapon for a moment before returning it to its scabbard.

"It's a beautiful blade," she said, holding the sword in both hands as she walked back to return it to the man.

"Thank you," he replied, taking the sword and tying it to its rightful place against his hip. "It was a gift from my father before I left. To protect myself, he said. From what, I don't know."

"The future," the woman answered. "For the future to come."

The man smiled. "Perhaps. And this future is unavoidable, isn't it?"

The woman nodded. "I guess it is."

"I wish you luck then," the man said, standing now.

"And I wish you all the best," she replied.

End of Act One

Glossary

jian – a double-edged straight sword

baozi – a type of steamed bun usually filled with meat

qun – a wrap around skirt usually warn with a blouse known as a ru

Author's Note: How long as it been? ... ahem. I'm having a rough time with school this year as I reconsider my plans and where do I really wanna go for graduate studies. But really that won't stop me from writing. =D

So, now I'm back with a whole new story. This is a five part story that takes place in a fictional world based off of the Tang and Song Dynasty of China. I made sure to complete it before beginning to post it, so I'll be posting an Act twice a week. This one is the shortest Act being only two scenes long. The other acts have between five - eight.

Nuowei is literally the Chinese pronunciation for Nouwei and Wangshaung is the pinyin for the Kingdom of Frost.

Guys, it's been so long that I don't know how to write an author's note anymore...

I hope you guys enjoy Act One so far. If you have any questions regarding the story thus far feel free to private message me or leave a comment! I love to talk to you guys.

Until next time!

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Cordially,
EireneHarmonia