A/N: hi everyone! welcome to my fic. i'm super excited about this. i came up with this idea a very long time ago and then somewhat recently, when going through old drafts in my email, i rediscovered it! it's about time it gets published so maybe other people can enjoy it.
i'm not the best writer. but i'll try my best to deliver this story as well written as i can! it means a lot to me, as do the characters. i've been a huge fan of kfp for most of my life and it makes me happy to share this with others.
general reminder that all non-canon characters are my own original characters.
i hope you enjoy! aaand if you don't, well… sorry 3 anyway bye!
The house lay silent in the embrace of the night, its stillness broken by a storm that raged on like a tempest unleashed from the heavens. The night was dark, punctuated only by the intermittent flashes of lightning that cast eerie shadows along the walls of the spacious home. The sound of raindrops pelting the roof resonated with the woman in the corner, who was hastily shoving things into a small pack. It was a percussion of liberation, urging her to break free from the chains that bound her.
Tonight was made for staying indoors, but for her, it was the perfect night to escape.
But she had to be fast. There was only a limited window of opportunity and if it wasn't taken advantage of, it would not return.
There was a sense of urgency and desperation in her footsteps as she crept down the corridors of the house. The floorboards creaked, almost as if protesting her audacity. Thankfully, the rumbling thunder provided a rhythmic cover for her endeavor as she crossed hallways and navigated down two flights of stairs into a storage room at the back of the house.
A regular door typically utilized only by staff and servants making their way around became her portal to freedom. All she had to do was pass through it and she'd be liberated.
Dressed in dark, muted colors to blend in easily with the night, the woman slid open the door and came face to face with the torrential downpour that had been going on for hours. She clutched the sides of her cloak and sucked in a breath, willing her nerves not to seize control of her now. She was so close – so close to the freedom she had been yearning for… all she had to do was run. And if it was going to work, it had to be now.
Pulling up her hood, she uttered a quick prayer and dashed off into the night.
The rain embraced her, its cool touch mingling with the warmth of her determination. The storm became an unexpected accomplice in her rebellion, masking her movements and drowning out the echoes of the life she was leaving behind. She found herself grateful for it. She quickened her pace.
She moved swiftly, daring not to cast a single look behind her as she crossed the courtyard. Her thoughts were a whirlwind, her heart raced with a blend of fear and hope, the storm mirroring the turbulence within her as she forged ahead into the unknown. With each step she found strength. It was as if the clouds were rooting for her. There was hope.
The forest loomed ahead, a realm of shadows and secrets. To even the most experienced traveler it posed a danger. But for her it was a sanctuary to which she eagerly fled. Though bamboo foliage provided little refuge from the elements, she ventured in without a shred of hesitation.
She would get as far away from this place as she could, or she would die trying.
Tai Lung awoke with the jolt, a gasp, and then a pained groan.
He felt like he'd been run over by a stampede.
Opening his eyes was painful, too. As he blinked slowly, trying to clear his blurry vision, his concern went to his whereabouts. Upwards, he could make out what seemed to be a dense canopy of vivid foliage. Bright beams of sunlight cut through and warmed the earth below him. He lay in the ground on a carpet of thick, green grass. With a deep, labored breath, fresh air filled his lungs. He was in the forest. But where?
His body protested every movement as he made the attempt to sit up. A sharp pang shot through his side and he considered it may not be the best idea. Clutching his ribs, he winced, the pain a cruel reminder of the humiliation he faced. Now everything was coming back to him. His jailbreak, his beloved dragon scroll, and that big, fat panda…
Rage swelled in his chest, but he quickly learned that he was much too exhausted and far too wounded to indulge such strong feelings. The world seemed to sway and spin until he took another labored breath and lay back down. There would be time for his temper later; right now, he had to figure out where he was… and why.
Tai Lung couldn't tell the extent of his injuries – only that it pretty much pained him to exist – but it was fairly obvious that he was in bad shape. He looked down, finding most of his body bound tightly in coarse bandages and his right leg set in a splint. His fingers traced the cloth, discovering the tenderness of his wounds. Great. He didn't know who was responsible for dressing him, but whoever it was managed to pick the itchiest, scratchiest material possible. Nevertheless, the job was done in an almost expert manner.
He wondered for a moment if this was the afterlife. He didn't think it was – seemed like far too a pleasant place for him to end up – but he had never been, so he couldn't really tell. Nothing was golden, though.
With his vision clearing little by little, he propped himself up on an elbow (a painstaking process) so that he could take a better survey of his environment. Not very far from him was a crackling fire with a very large, black cauldron sitting atop. His stomach rumbled and he wondered (hoped) that there was food inside. The scent of damp earth mindled with the aroma of herbs and the distant sound of flowing water played as a soothing background to this most disorienting awakening. But Tai Lung wasn't interested in serenity. He wanted answers.
Perfectly timed, a voice from behind him exclaimed: "YOU'RE AWAKE."
Tai Lung nearly jumped out of his skin, then altogether deflated against the ground with a pitiful moan as his muscles screamed from the sudden movement. The world went blurry again as the form of a cat came into his line of sight from the left. She was old, whoever she was, if the hobbled shuffling and walking stick were any proof.
"I can't believe it, you're awake!"
She was also loud. Tai Lung cringed. Regaining clarity, he found she was a mountain cat. Skinny, short, but eyes sparkling with a light that defied her seemingly frail exterior. Just as quickly as she appeared, she disappeared behind him.
"I was afraid you were going to kick the bucket on me, which would've been really disappointing considering all the time and effort I put into all this. But I knew the sunlight would do you good. She argued with me, but I know what I'm talking about."
Tai Lung had no idea what she was talking about. "Who are you?" She didn't answer him. "Where am I?" he rasped, his words cutting through the tranquility of the forest. He tried to find her, but the old woman was elusive no matter which way he angled his head.
"Oh, hush now," she gently chided. It sounded as if she were rifling through a crate of metal. "Questions can wait, but this medicine cannot."
A crippled hand shoved a cup in his face before he could speak. Frustration melded Tai Lung's features as he batted the cup away, sending it and its steaming contents all over the ground. "I don't want your medicine, you old hag. Tell me where I am or suffer the consequences."
The old woman sighed, more disappointed than aghast by his threats, and shook her head. "Stubborn. I figured you to be that type." She walked around him to retrieve the weathered cup and shook it at him pointedly. "You're alive. The 'hows' and 'whys' matter less than the mending right now. You're alive, but you're broken, and I'm going to fix you."
"I didn't ask you to, nor do I need you to."
"The proper response to that should be 'thank you,' actually."
Tai Lung snarled. "I don't have time for this," he snapped, trying to push himself upright until the pain in his ribs forced him down again with an exasperated huff. He held back a wince when the old woman placed a hand on his non-bandaged shoulder, her grip surprisingly strong for a woman her age.
"Rest," she urged, though it was uttered more like a command. "Your healing has only just begun. Impatience may cost you more than you are willing to bear."
Where she got it from he was sure he'd never know, but suddenly a refreshed cup of that mysterious liquid was shoved to his lips and poured down his throat. Tai Lung hacked and heaved, having no idea what he had just drank and annoyed because some of it had gone down the wrong pipe. His insides screamed. Meanwhile, the old lady cackled.
Tai Lung swore between coughs. Bewildered, he looked at her. "Are you some kind of lunatic?"
"Yes." She disappeared behind him again, leaving him with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He did not like this kind of vulnerability.
"Do you have any idea who I am?" The entirety of China did, as far as he knew. Surely this lady had not one single clue who it really was she had lying here. Who she was making a fool of.
"Oh, I do!" Tai Lung blinked, stunned. "I know exactly who you are." She returned with a thin blanket in hand and began spreading it out over him, like a mother putting her child to bed. Tai Lung intended on questioning her motives just as a warm sensation blossomed through his chest. "I just don't care."
Her flippancy left him utterly speechless for a solid moment, enough time for that suspicious brew to continue its work. Tai Lung's eyes, once alert with suspicion, grew heavier and heavier with exhaustion. His body grew limp as he rested back against the soft ground.
"You're poisoning me," he slurred, slow blinking as he looked up at her.
The old woman laughed again. "It tastes like it, doesn't it? Why would I go through all this trouble just to poison you? You've awakened prematurely, my dear. Rest up. When you rise again I promise to answer all of your questions."
He wanted to argue, but he found himself succumbing to the lulling effects of her alchemy quicker than he would have liked to admit. The old woman's gaze never faltered; she watched him with an expression of both compassion and amusement. Although, Tai Lung had a feeling she was laughing at him.
He was fighting it. "Who are you?"
"Chu-Chi," she answered warmly, blending down to rub a hand over his head. "My name is Chu-Chi. Now go to sleep, Tai Lung."
The blanket she had tucked around him served as a nice, warm cocoon as the breeze picked up. The world around him softened, and in the hazy twilight between wakefulness and sleep, Tai Lung cast one last weary glance at the old woman. Her form retreated once more, blurring into the background of the forest as he drifted off to sleep.