AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, I seriously can’t believe I wrote this. What the heck, brain, what the heck.

But there was something about this guy’s character that unleashed a horde of plot bunnies into my head….so there you have it. This is set, obviously, before he turned evil and everything.

I don't own these characters. Dreamworks and Paramount Pictures do.

Absalom

The summer haze was a shroud of gold velvet, making the midday air heavy and soft. The heat was oppressive; from his vantage point sitting atop the front steps of the Jade Palace, Tai Lung watched the villagers cling to the shadows gathered in storefronts. It was one of those slow, lazy days that burned down like candles.

Lazy for most, anyway.

With a sigh, the adolescent leopard turned the attention back to his ruined knuckles.

He had already wound a bandage around the left paw four times, pulling the strip of cloth tight with his teeth. The right one was still untended, patches of dried blood clumping the soft gray fur together. The bones were likely cracked in several places.

But Tai Lung regarded the gruesome state of his hands with pride; each wound received during training was a lesson in itself, after all.

“Care for lunch?” asked a sagacious voice behind him.

The student whipped around. Master Oogway stood there with two small bowls of steamed dumplings in hand. He was wearing the slight smile that never left his face, as if he were forever enjoying some sort of private joke.

“Good day, Master,” Tai Lung spoke hurriedly, moving to leap to his feet and bow. The knotted wood of Oogway’s staff pressed down on the leopard’s shoulder and stopped him halfway through the action.

“No need, my boy, no need for formalities. I merely came to share a meal with you.” He smiled wider.

Tai Lung blinked a few times. The old turtle’s presence was vaguely discomforting, for him; he always felt as though he was being scrutinized. And Oogway’s languid way of speaking, words dripping as slow as tar and answering questions with questions, was an endless source of irritation.

But Master Shifu revered him, so Tai Lung merely nodded and accepted the bowl as it was handed to him.

“What a lovely day this is…. No hurries, no concerns. And so warm,”Oogway observed, sitting down beside the prize student.

“Yes, it’s very hot,” Tai Lung replied distractedly. He was trying to clasp his injured paws around the set of chopsticks with little success.

The wizened instructor observed the effort before speaking.

“Hmm… You know, I do believe a bit of ginseng ointment will help with those injuries.”

“Never, Master,” the leopard said between bites, having resorted to spearing the dumplings and ferrying them into his mouth. “I can’t do that.”

“Oh? And why is that? They look as though they hurt, certainly.”

Tai Lung rested the bowl down and raised his paws, surveying the damage for a moment. He curled them into fists. Fresh blood trickled out as the action re-opened cuts, and he grinned.

“I struck the stone block 100 times, but only once did I manage split it clean through in one blow. The other 99 times, I failed. Here,” he pointed to one of the welts as he talked, “I did not put enough force behind the hit. And here,” a torn and bloodied knuckle, “I struck in the wrong place, not where I knew a weak spot was. The pain prevents me from repeating my errors.”

“Ah, I see,” Oogway nodded, chewing meticulously. “I see...”

The turtle seemed to mill the thoughts over before continuing to speak.

“…..Though they say that the only real mistakes are the ones you do not learn from…. So one could say that you succeeded all 100 times, but only once in the manner you had hoped.”

Tai Lung scoffed, finishing his last dumpling off in one bite.

“Forgive me Master, but I can’t accept that. Success is only black and white. There are no grays, settling for less. There is only failure and triumph.”

The view expressed fit into Tai Lung's personality, Oogway supposed: because the boy had mastered almost every scroll of the discipline, and was as of yet unsatisfied. He was one of the best fighters within a hundred miles in every direction, but still would not, could not, think that that was enough. And all the while, life was slipping by through his fingers like sand.

Ambition, too, is a double-edged sword, the turtle thought.

A brief silence followed, interrupted only by the humming of the locust in the valley.

“You’ve been training since dawn, my boy,” Oogway finally spoke. “Why don’t you go out to the fields and play with your friends?”

The adolescent gave him an incredulous sideways look; the word was rather foreign to him.

The turtle responded with a laugh. Even the energy of his laughter was subdued.

“Ah yes, I suppose you are too old for that now. You see, I’ve lived so long that years will go by whenever I turn around!….Perhaps a companion to enjoy the afternoon with, then? I can think of a few lovely ladies in town who would leap at the chance.”

It was true. With his strong shoulders, stubborn jaw and fire-eaten eyes, the leopard had grown to some of his potential in the past year. Young women gossiped and giggled about him as he walked by, but it all fell on deaf ears. He spoke to villagers only when necessary. They, after all, were at the bottom of his personal hierarchy.

“No thank you, Master. Greatness and laziness are incompatible.”

“Greatness, you say?”

Tai Lung straightened up slightly, the beginnings of a smile pulling at his mouth.

“Yes. The title of Dragon Warrior. That is what makes everything worth it.”

That, and the approving nod from Shifu when a certain technique or move or strike was finally perfected. The diminutive Master took as much pride in his student’s success as Tai Lung himself did, and the leopard always felt a of swell of happiness so immense that he feared his ribs would crack.

He would not disappoint his Master, of course.

He would not fail him, that word so bitter and repugnant.

To do so would strip him of his purpose, his worth.

Oogway gave Tai Lung another slow smile, although it was tempered slightly by sadness and worry now.

“You know,” the turtle began. “Shifu rejoices in every attempt you make, regardless of the outcome, merely because it is an attempt. He is always proud of you, my boy….”

Again, Tai Lung snorted. He hated the condescending way that the turtle always called him boy, and his voice had a sharp edge to it.

“Master, don’t delude yourself. You are speaking as though he loves me: I am his student, not his son.”

“You do not believe he loves you, then?”

“How could he? I’m unworthy. And I will remain that way until I have fulfilled my destiny. Good day, Master Oogway.”

“Well….”

Tai Lung cut him off; he was already on his feet, walking back to the training courtyard with a slight limp. The leopard did not even spare a parting glance, leaving the turtle to sit out in the sunlight.

And Oogway watched him go, until he was lost from sight in the shadows of the palace.

Love is a gift, child, not a reward.

Thanks for reading!

And please remember that constructive criticism is loved like THE AIR I BREATHE.