a/n-okay, well you are all probably wondering why on earth I'm spending time on a freaky little one shot when I should be paying attention to Two Sides of the Same Coin. Well, let me tell you something about plot bunnies.
They are in no way cute, fuzzy little creatures who are polite and kind and will just stand in one corner of your brain and wait for their turn to be called on. Nope, not them. These guys attack any other story idea you might have with a vengance, because they are selfish, egotistical little vipers who were sorely misnamed.
So, instead of butchering my other story, I decided to just get rid of the stinkin plot bunny.
Okay, well, enjoy!
To be honest, Mulan didn't really know what was happening.
First she woke to see Shang staring at her in utter disbelief. As if he had never really seen her before. She had reacted like she always did to Shang. She smiled and leaned forward. Of course, then she realized what had happened, what was really going on.
What Shang now knew.
Well, then that absolute cockroach Chi-Fu had come in, before she could say anything to Shang. She had called out to him anyway, but then Chi-Fu had been there, yanking on her hair, pulling her outside with nothing but a thin blanket to cover up with.
Well, that and her trousers, which were thankfully still on.
It had felt like a dream really. Chi-Fu shouting wild accusations at her, Mulan's own desperate pleas and explanations. Both were desperately trying to win Shang over, to make everyone understand.
Or maybe that was just her.
Mulan couldn't even remember what it was she had said. Something about her father, an explanation. Oh, there was her name. She had said her name, her real name. Ping was gone now, leaving a shivering girl in the soldier's place.
There was snow all around her, so cold. It was soft and white and untouched.
Then the shouting match had come to an abrupt halt when Shang had taken her own sword from its sheath and walked toward her, determination glinting in his eyes.
She became resigned then. It was her fate, it seemed. She had been preparing herself for this ever since she had joined the army. She had known it was a very real possibility. If she didn't fall in battle, she always had her secret hanging over her. It would seem that fate was desperately trying to kill her.
Around her, the snow suddenly seemed less cold. It figured. In a few minutes, she would be the exact same temperature. Her cold, dead body, left to rot in the snow, lying in her own blood.
She wondered at how it would look, when that gleaming blade came down and her life's blood squirted in all directions. She would stain her father's blade with her own blood. How ironic.
The snow would be sullied. The beautiful white snow, covered in pools of crimson blood.
She supposed it would still be beautiful. In a morbid kind of fashion. Her mama had always told her that contrasting colors were beautiful. Dark, sinful crimson on bright innocent white. Yes, that would compare nicely.
She nearly laughed to herself. Fa Mulan, the ugly duckling in life becoming a swan only in death. How ironic.
The lovely snow, so pure and gentle and unassuming, drenched in her punished blood.
Well, at least she finally did something right. Her father is alive. Mama won't be alone.
But as she stared at the snow, all of this feeling very much like a dream and in no way reality, all she could think of was how beautiful it would look.
And how utterly wrong it would be.
The snow, so soft and white and pure, reaching out to claim her body and her blood.
Her dark blood tainting the innocence of the snow.
Her head rolling a few feet away from her body.
The soft thud that would be heard as she lost the capability to support herself.
She had heard that people were still alive for a few seconds afterwards.
And then the unthinkable happened.
The sword was in front of her, lying in the snow, glinting in the sun. Shang was staring at her, obviously conflicted over what he had just done. He said something about a debt being repaid. That was silly. He owed her nothing.
And then they were gone.
Mulan was left there, shivering in the snow, wondering if it had all been a dream.
Well if thatwasn't sufficiently morbid I don't know what is. Anyways, this thing would notleave me alone, and I've been itchin to do this scene for a long time. Frankly, if I was in Mulan's position, I would have been a bit detatched from the whole thing, that is, if I wasn't scared out of my mind. Either one really. *shrugs*. So I kind of wanted to do something with Mulan being all detatched and solemn and slightly crazy about the whole thing. I got the imagery for blood on snow stuck in my head and this little one-shot came out of it. Fun, right?
Anyways, enough of my rambling. Leave a review and I hope you enjoyed (well, not enjoyed per-say, I mean think about it. This was freakishly morbid. How about...appreciated the 640 words of thoughtful literature I have provided, yes?)!