writingrage

[writingrage]

What Fate Had Wrought (4/4)

A Mulan/Red Riding Hood|Ruby Fanfic. Also known as Mulan Rouge/ Red Warrior/the best pairing that never was.

Summary: After finding Red’s One True Love, Mulan returns to the village of her childhood, heartbroken twice over. However, the threat of a new beast and an army with unknown intentions looms over the village and disrupts the peace that Mulan tries to cultivate. Red visiting really doesn’t help matters either.

Set a few months after the events of Once Upon a Time 5x18 “Ruby Slippers”

AO3 / Fanfiction.net

CHAPTER 4 - No Escape

The meeting was set for sundown, when most soldiers had retired after a night of drinking and singing in the pub. They smashed open the door of the establishment and stumbled out with rosy cheeks and high spirits. The people of Guifei paused in their toils to watch these soldiers make a spectacle of themselves, but they made sure to avert their gazes before they could establish eye contact. The soldiers were more like ravenous wolves than men; they were so easily provoked, to the extent that even looking one in the eye would invite trouble.

Mulan was all too familiar with this feeling of trepidation. Her empathy was amplified when all she could do was watch them instead of reprimand them like instinct demanded. She had gone many nights bustling the drunks out of the street so they could leave the people of this sleepy village in peace. However, since she had been formally dismissed from duty, she had no choice but to clench her jaw and glower silently at them from the sidelines.

She had come to the village early partly to watch the fools slobber booze over themselves but also to keep an eye on their antics. The sounder part of her that remained after the trials of the past month screamed at her to stay out of sight, but she supposed that old habits had a way of tethering themselves to older bones.

She also greatly cared for the people of Guifei and wished for them to be safe. She would not be able to tolerate them coming to harm just because she assumed that her being seen in the village would arouse suspicion.

“Oh!” said a soldier. Mulan blinked out of her ruminations and belatedly noticed that one of the men in the group had spotted her. It wasn’t as if she was hiding—her pride wouldn’t allow her to take to the shadows—but she still hadn’t expected them to pick her out from the crowd so easily. After all, she was squatting with the rest of the village wives and helping them with cleaning the laundry. Gone was her regal soldier’s uniform, replaced by plain clothes the colour of dry soil. She had even wrapped her hair with a rag so that she may better blend in.

“Look who it is!”

“Aiya…is that the bitch who’s been bustin’ our balls all winter?”

They stopped in their stumbling and stood in the middle of road, heckling her so loudly that all eyes gravitated toward her. Mulan pursed her lips and scrubbed harder at the underclothes in the basin before her. She could not give them the satisfaction of acknowledging their ghastly manners. Eventually, they would bore of yelling at her and leave.

At least, that was the expectation. Instead, they came up with new taunts to goad her into reacting.

“General Mulan! At your command, sir!” they would shout with rounds of laughter. It seemed that the news of her dismissal had eagerly made the rounds and, only now when Mulan was dishonoured and downtrodden, they used the appropriate title when speaking to her. There came a bitter taste with being so openly mocked with a title that she had so valued, both during and after the war.

“They shame themselves,” muttered an older woman next to Mulan in disgust. “Pay them no mind.”

Mulan hummed in acknowledgement. She knew that, in the eyes of the villagers, this was akin to watching a pack of wolves feasting on a weak buck. Regardless, it still stung to be the one who was victimized in front of the very people who used to look to her for protection.

As she thought, the soldiers eventually left, with one of them spitting near Mulan’s feet as a farewell gesture. For a moment, Mulan almost lost herself and swung her basin at his head but barely caught herself. Instead, she scrubbed at the clothes until they tore and her hands were raw and cracked.

By the time of the meeting at Ho Li’s place, she was tense with the desire to take action. Her fingers and toes ached with cold and her neck was stiff, but she arrived with her energy and tenacity. She had made sure that the soldiers had retired for the night before she headed to Ho Li’s house which squatted behind the local pub. It was a small place, only a few paces wide, and it was filled to capacity with the whole village squishing themselves in for sitting space. Ho Li sat near the center and next to him was the chief, sweating through his robe and dabbing at the moisture collecting upon his forehead and neck.

When Mulan showed herself, dwarfed in a coat that was one size too large and smeared in dirt, the people of Guifei gave her a boisterous welcome. While she had resigned to working with the women in the market square and she had made fleeting contact with the men, the atmosphere here had a gravity that the marketplace did not. It hinted at novelty and brought with it the electric atmosphere beholden to the smell of change. Seeing Mulan awakened in them a renewed sense of purpose and Mulan was happy to inspire them.

Red was among the attendants, flocked by children as they marvelled at her red cape and her strange dress. She entertained them until she saw Mulan walk in. The sheer radiance of her smile only fed the joy that quickened Mulan's heart. She returned the smile before she looked towards the chief and bowed.

“Chief Yao,” said Mulan once she straightened into a neutral position. Chief Yao nodded his head in return with a tame smile on his face.

“I suppose that I could not resist joining this gathering,” said Chief Yao. He raised a cup of tea and added, “Ho Li’s wife is a fantastic brew. It was hard to stay away.”

“It is good to see you, in any case,” said Mulan. She looked round the room and saw the looks of expectation and hope around her. She supposed that this would be the best time to come out to them about the details of her discharge.

So, she cleared the air and filled the gaps as best she could. She told them about the dark wolf, about the fact that she didn’t kill it, and the insidiousness of General Zhang. She offered no explanation for not having slain the beast as she originally said she did, but she was happy to see that they would not be probing into that particular detail. What they did hone in on, however, was the conduct of General Zhang and his “orders” from Commander Song.

“They intend to defect,” Chief Yao said after Mulan’s explanation. He dabbed at his forehead delicately, his paled skin glistening more than was normal for him. “This is…bad. Very bad.”

“Especially if we are caught in the middle,” added Ho Li. A steady hum of agreement followed his words as men and women looked round to gauge the atmosphere. It seemed to have dawned on some already that this arrangement they’d been wrangled into by General Zhang was of a far grander scale than they had originally believed.

As if sensing the jarring shift in tone, Ruby spoke for the first time since Mulan walked in. “I come from Misthaven. We’ve had our share of villages caught in the middle of personal struggles between rulers. It looked a lot like this, in fact.”

“And what happened to these villages?” asked Chief Yao, though his expression spoken of an uneasy resignation to Red’s answer.

A toddler of one of the village women gurgled and swathed itself in Red’s red cape, blissfully unaware of the tension that choked life out of the air. Red’s eyes flickered to the ground before she said, “Most villages…were destroyed.”

A terrible silence rolled in on the heels of Red’s admission. Mulan shut her eyes and took in a deep breath, just so she could center herself. Then, she stood so she towered over the village people, many of whom her father knew dearly. Indeed, she didn’t recognize a good lot of them since her stint in the war and her parading through Misthaven took up almost two decades of her life, but they were still her countrymen who looked to her for inspiration. It would feel wrong to not say anything when they needed guidance the most.

“I have spent my years as a child in this very village,” Mulan began. “While time has weathered my memories, the energy of this village has etched itself into my bones. I could not have been General Hua Mulan in the Fourteen Year War had it not been for my upbringing in this very place.”

All eyes were on her. Mulan swallowed past the marble in her throat when she glanced over at Red who gazed upon her like she was the brightest thing in the room. This look alone was what loosened Mulan’s tongue so that she could continue her speech.

“I cannot promise that Guifei will see the end of this struggle,” Mulan said, her voice low and grave. “I can only promise that, whatever choice you come to, I will be there to serve until my final breath. This, I swear: as the people of my father, this is the one and only thing that I can offer you in return.”

In the war, speeches such as these were bittersweet. The misery that came from being trapped in a perpetual struggle with the enemy curiously mingled with the euphoria of serving one’s country and bringing honour to their families. It churned out the capacity of human emotion and made for the most fearsome soldiers whose fear of death was minimal and lust for glory rang high.

Speaking to villagers, on the other hand, Mulan didn’t know how they would take it. Would they walk out on her or would they stay? Would they weep or would they celebrate? These unknowns made Mulan’s spine tingle, for she wasn’t sure how she wished for this to be received. Railing against trained soldiers was a fight that saw very few outcomes, the majority of which were miserable. On the other hand, who was she to stop the people of the village defending their rightful land? She had to fight with them, no matter the consequences.

The silence that followed was grating on the ears. Other than the whimpering of a baby, the uneasy cough of an elderly woman, and the disgruntled humming sound Chief Yao was making, this spoke of a bad reception.

Finally, Chief Yao said, “We shall put this to a vote, then—”

“We are past the point of votes,” Ho Li cut in, to which Chief Yao cleared his throat and nervously wiped at his brow. Ho Li turned to the rest of the people in the room and said, “Those who are here are willing to fight. If you have no such intention, leave.”

Mulan looked around, only for her eyes to find Red who offered a radiant smile that made Mulan’s chest ache so profoundly. It really was her luck that something as grim as a brewing war was what pushed Mulan to pursue this—thing with Red, whatever it was.

Since yesterday and the night before when they had stayed wrapped in each other until the odd hours of the morning, they did not try to talk about what their relationship had developed into. Mulan was more than willing to try something new with Red, but she feared labelling it, lest she cursed the precarious balance they’d struck the moment they kissed. More than she wanted to spend every night with Red, she feared losing her altogether.

There was not a stir in the room. Everyone remained seated and looked to Mulan for leadership. Her resolve hardened and her heart heavy with emotions both familiar and forgotten, Mulan nodded and said, in her strongest voice, “Then we plan our offense.”

-

“Are you comfortable?”

“For the hundredth time…yes. I’m comfortable. I’m fine.”

“Are you—?”

“I’m sure, Mulan.”

Mulan hummed, doubtful. She didn’t wish to irritate Red any more than she already had though, so she lied back down in the cot provided to her by Ho Li. Red lied next to her, her back turned. It was a small place, Ho Li’s abode. They couldn’t so much as clear their throat without everyone else in the house hearing it. And Ho Jian was a curious boy, quite delightful really, but he was far too forthright for Mulan’s liking. Before everyone had retired for the night, he had wandered over to where Red and Mulan rested and demanded he sleep with them.

And Red, because she was such a kind spirit who loved children, very happily agreed. To Mulan’s silent disapproval. She really would have preferred to have spent the last night of peace alone with Red, but Ho Jian was far more persuasive. He was wedged between Red and Mulan, his cold foot digging into Mulan’s thigh and sprawled out in his sleep.

“This is why I can’t stand children,” Mulan hissed. Red turned over to throw Mulan a disdainful look, to which Mulan felt a sudden shame at having been overheard complaining. “Ah…sorry. It’s just—”

“I know.”

They laid in thick silence. Between them, Ho Jian snored lightly. While Mulan could not see the moon from within this small hut, she felt she had been lying in bed for several hours, waiting on the sun to rise one more time on a brewing battlefield.

When Mulan was fourteen and she’d first stepped into uniform in her father’s stead, there had been many nights where she could not sleep. Whether she was haunted by the impermanence of life—a rather common notion, especially for someone such as her who lived in the rural countryside where life was never guaranteed—or the screams of the dying, she would be anchored to wakefulness with no possible reprieve from her conscious nightmares.

And when she did sleep, she was tormented by the actual nightmares that followed once she let her eyes rest. It had been better off, then, to stay awake.

Only, it got easier surprisingly quickly. The more she had seen and dealt death, the less she feared it. By the end of her fourteen years of service, she slept rather soundly. Although, the nights before a battle were always the hardest to sleep through, mainly because her head was so crowded with formations, plans, strategies. How many men she had led this whole time who would no longer be there by the end of the battle.

Drinking helped. Mulan stopped drinking when she’d met Red, though, so she no longer had anything to dull the sharpness of her nerves.

That night, lying next to Ho Jian and Red, the anxiety was especially pronounced. There were many factors that lent to this, among them the fact that she was about to lead innocent villagers into a conflict that they barely understood. It was not everyday she was given the opportunity to direct a civil uprising, but she was by no means enthused by her new role.

The worst of it, however, was knowing that Red would be staying to see this through. They had fought, quite fiercely, in fact, about whether or not Red should head back home. They were perhaps a hair away from escalating the shouting match, but Mulan lost the moment Red said, “I’d rather be dead than think of what I could have done if something happened to you.”

What was there to say after that? Mulan kept her mouth shut on the subject, but her stomach churned, her limbs buzzed, and her head was filled with lead all the same. Because she would rather be dead than think of what she could have done to keep Red safe. The moment she sensed the parallel, she relented, though with a quizzical bitterness she could not describe.

“You have loud thoughts,” Red stated. She said it like it made sense.

“I—what?”

“Loud thoughts.” Red looked at her expectantly. Mulan stared back, blank. “You know? Like, I can hear what you’re thinking.”

What an odd thing to say. Mulan’s brow furrowed and Red cracked a small smile.

“It’s something people in the other world say when you look like you’re thinking very hard on something,” Red explained, though she said it with the same voice she used when Ho Jian asked to sleep in their cot or when she’d unravelled a baby from her cloak. “Get some sleep, Mulan. Whatever happens tomorrow, we’ll be ready for it.”

“I know,” Mulan said, her tongue thick and dry. She swallowed and said, quieter, “I wish that you would keep yourself safe.”

“We already talked about this.”

“I’m—” scared. Mulan was scared. Of course, she couldn’t say that. She had some dignity. Instead, she said, “I’m worried about you. I wouldn’t want anything to happen. Dorothy—”

“What about her?”

Mulan clicked her tongue and shut her eyes in order to rebuild her patience.

“I told you, I’ll talk to her when this is over,” Red said. Mulan tightened her jaw.

“I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you and you leave Dorothy alone,” said Mulan. For while she pined for Red, she had never felt bitterness toward Dorothy. Much like Prince Philip when he’d claimed Aurora’s heart, Mulan could not find it in her to be upset with Dorothy for claiming Red’s. All Mulan could stand to do was walk away.

“What do you think is going to happen when we both make it out alive?” Red asked. “Things can’t go back to normal. I’ll have to leave Dorothy. You know this.”

To be honest, Mulan really didn’t know that at all. After all, they had dissuaded each other from talking about what their relationship was, preferring to live in the blissful moment of their mutual bonding. Mulan didn’t ask anything of Red and Red hadn’t offered. When the fighting was over and the dust settled, what would their relationship be? Would it be long-lived and lasting or as fleeting as the dispassionate flings between soldiers on the eve of battle?

Even at this point, when they were so close to confrontation, Mulan didn’t dare ask. Red could proclaim all she wanted that fate was wrong, but fate had never lied to Mulan before.

When this was over, they could talk about it. Or not.

-

The plan was this:

Work as one normally did, if only to offset the suspicion of the soldiers squatting at the outpost. The men would toil in the field and tend to the livestock while the women would wash clothes, cook their food, sew their clothes. Yet another day of mortal drudgery.

If the soldiers grew restless and wished to act on their basic instincts, persevere the abuse. The success of the plan would rely on the rate at which their arrogance inflated. The surer they became of the villagers’ subjugation, the less likely they were to expect what the night would bring.

When the night would sweep in and the soldiers would go to rest, the villagers would mobilize. Women and children would wait in Chief Yao’s house which stood apart from the cluster of buildings at the center of the village. The men, Mulan, and Red would get into formation. They would bring torches to set fire to the outpost and smoke out the soldiers from their tents.

Upon scattering, the soldiers would know nothing but the unfolding chaos around them; an ideal time to pick them off while they were harried and blind. Mulan would cut them down and those she let through, Red would vanquish.

The plan was hasty, but it relied on at least two tenets of Mulan’s strategy as a general: fight smart and fight quickly.

Only. That wasn’t what happened.

All it took was a blink. The moment Mulan’s eyes finally slid shut with the promise of sleep, she awoke to the sound of the world exploding around her. Yelling, the roaring of flames, and the creaking of wood caving and splintering. Her eyes flew open and she felt nothing but pain, her surroundings bright with white-hot flames.

She heard her name being called. When she looked over, she saw Red by the eastern wall which was conspicuously missing, blown out from a blast unseen. Some of the hot cinders had fallen upon her hair and shoulders. Gathered in her arms was Ho Jian, head bleeding and face slack. His father was nowhere to be seen.

She didn’t have to think too hard on what came next; she jumped to her feet and grabbed her sword, her helmet. The rest of her armour she tucked under her arm and quickly sprinted out of the building, following after Red, just before another explosion rocked the village, this time from some houses away. Screams and shouts for help rang through the dark night air, suffocating Mulan’s senses.

Perhaps her days as a general were more behind her than she had realized. She’d been blindsided on the eve of her own planned attack. Much worse was that she’d been blindsided by her very attack.

The houses that surrounded them burned bright, the fires that raged around them greedily devouring the dry wood skeletons and foundations of these quaint houses. People flooded the streets, coughing, yelling. Some were hauled out by loved ones, while others called out to their friends, their neighbours, their family. Already, the wails of loss crowded the sky and Mulan thought this was too much, far too much.

She grabbed a random villager by the shoulder and yanked him close. She did not mind her modesty, despite being dressed in a simple tunic without her bottoms. It didn’t quite matter at this point, anyway, especially not to this squirrely man who was wide-eyed and visibly shaken. His hair had unraveled from its braid and his own tunic was askew.

“What’s going on?” she demanded. The man spluttered and Mulan shook him. “Answer me!”

“I-I don’t know,” he said. “I was awoken by a loud blast and to everything on fire. I just barely made it out of my home, but my wife—my sons—!”

He motioned to the house before him that had since collapsed into a smouldering mess. It was barely visible through the thick clouds of smoke that threatened to pull the air out of Mulan’s lungs.

“God,” Red muttered. Mulan unhanded the man and glanced at Red, only to see her staring down the street, eyes wide. Mulan’s eyes darted to where Red was looking and witnessed it. The bringers of wholesale terror. Each on horseback, men draped in dark armour and with faces wrapped in black cloth rode down the street, swords flashing silver and crimson in the glimpses of fire. Behind them, a trail of bodies torn open and laid bare for the moon to witness.

It was like the Yaoguai all over again.

It was worse than the Yaoguai.

Something consumed Mulan, she didn’t know what—but it rushed from her belly and came out as a desperate, raw scream. She brandished her sword, sheath carelessly shed, and ran headlong into the fray with the sense of abandon familiar to a woman who had lost everything.

Only, she had almost forgotten that all was not yet lost. She was reminded when a hand grabbed her by the back of her tunic and had her kicking up dirt and hissing. She whirled on who dared to keep her back, then saw a flash of red, a shimmer of gold.

“Unhand me!” Mulan was beside herself. She barely registered that she was yelling at Red.

“Mulan!” Red snapped. “Mulan. Mulan, please!”

Her heart rattled hard against her chest, like the bars holding back a woman starved and beaten. So badly did she want to throw herself into the chaos and drag them into the afterlife with her. However, there was something in the pleading voice of Red, one that trembled with shared grief and fear in equal parts.

Mulan barely had a chance to think too hard on it. Red, instead, pulled her out of the way just in time to avoid the swing of a blade, followed by the mocking laughs of the bandits as they thundered down the street on horseback. One cut the man Mulan was just speaking with and he crumpled to the ground, clawing at his open chest. Mulan cried out, her voice hoarse, but Red was too strong; she was hauled away from the battlefield, away from the dead and dying, their voices reaching out but Mulan unable to answer.

-

Nowhere was safe, but Red managed to find a tight alley between two houses that had yet to be set ablaze. Just a few steps away, she could continue to hear the echoes of the villagers being hunted and slaughtered like sport. Mulan fought her way out of Red’s loosened grip and turned on her, absolutely feral.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Mulan gestured wildly to the street beyond their alcove. Red squatted on the ground, her body heaving for breath. She didn’t look at Mulan. “They need me! Don’t you understand that?”

“They need you alive,” Red said.

Mulan slammed the side of her fist against the wall, muscles wound tight, and cried, “They need me to fight!”

“Not by throwing your life away.” How Mulan hated the levelness of Red’s voice, especially in the face of Mulan’s near frenzy. It made her skin itch.

Red stood her ground by rising to her full height. Belatedly, Mulan noticed Ho Li draped over Red’s shoulder, his body limp. A flash of panic gripped Mulan’s throat shut.

“He’s breathing,” said Red. Her voice was still low, almost submissive. The tension seeped out of her and, with it, the blinding fury, the bloodlust that had saturated her every thought. She was left cold, drained of energy. She barely caught herself before collapsing against the wall. The hand still gripping her sword loosened and let it clatter to the cobblestone underfoot.

“Red,��� Mulan said, her eyes drifting skyward. “I’ve failed.”

“No, not yet,” said Red. She truly sounded hopeful, which only served to further cleave Mulan’s chest in two. “You can’t just give up, Mulan! Just—just put your armour on. We can still fight.”

Mulan shook her head before Red could even finish. “You don’t understand.”

“Try me.”

Mulan paused for a moment, snagged on the odd phrasing. With an impatient motion of her free hand, Red added, “What I mean is, try to make me understand.”

“I have seen situations like this before,” Mulan said. “In the war. When a village is overwhelmed like this, there is no saving it. There isn’t…”

The smell of bubbling fat, boiled flesh. The cries of the dying, the newly orphaned. The sickness that seized Mulan and made her cramp up with nausea. Villages when they were raided, pillaged, razed to the ground, there were sometimes remains left behind for the enemy to find, to strike terror into their hearts. The disembodied heads of their victims, the gutted corpses of people who had no chance of fighting back.

Just to think that this would be the fate of Guifei. The thought paralyzed Mulan.

“Those villages never had you.” Mulan looked at Red, incredulous. By the look in her eye, she believed all that she was saying. “You are the bravest warrior I’ve ever met and the strongest. Only you would try to face a big bad wolf by yourself.”

Red grabbed one of Mulan’s cold hands and rubbed her thumb into the pad of Mulan’s palm. The soothing circles brought Mulan’s mind to a place of trepidatious calm, where the screams for help did not ring so loud.

“Look at me.” Red’s voice was commanding. Mulan took in a deep breath and met Red’s fierce gaze, her eyes glowing amber. “Those villages didn’t have you and they didn’t have your wolf.”

‘Your wolf’. At another place, in any other time, Mulan would have flushed with embarrassment at the term. The relationship was still new, tender in its infancy.

Despite herself, Mulan risked a small smile. Devastatingly, her voice cracked when she said, “My wolf?”

Red only nodded, her expression solemn but determined.

“As long as you’ll have me.” She spoke like she was a hundred years old. It broke Mulan’s heart to hear it, but she mended it upon processing her words.

A shaky sigh escaped her before she rocked forward to press her lips to Red’s. Only after a startled moment did Red respond, their lips moving against each other, already fully acquainted and relishing in their shared familiarity. There was a small smack when Mulan pulled away. The air was scorching between them.

“Always,” said Mulan, then turned away to get dressed into her armour. As she changed, she said, “Get the boy to a safe place. I will take care of these bandits.”

“I’ll come find you as soon as I can.”

“I know,” Mulan said. Shamelessly, she hoped for it. Without another word, she slid on her helmet, and ran out of the alleyway and into the fray once more.

Time had not stood still when Mulan was in that alley, however; the fire continued to spread from house to house, ever-hungry and raging so bright that it threatened to swallow the light of the stars above. The smoke was thick and sunk into Mulan’s pores, but Mulan pushed forth, eyes closed, sword held before her, and ears straining for sound.

The first thing to attract her attention was the beating of hooves, the hollering of degenerate predators who openly revelled in the blood of the weak.

“There’s the bitch!” hollered a voice. “Kill her!”

Mulan’s ears guided her to face the goading and, in turn, her blade moved like the extension of her arm that it was. Mulan stomped her feet into the dirt, twisted her blade into the air, and caught the throat of the horse. She felt the nick of a blade along her arm, but that was all.

The horse crumpled with a whinny and the rider fell with it. Trapped under his horse, he barely managed a croak for help before Mulan silenced him with the swish of her blade that slit his throat. He gurgled, convulsed, pawed at the horse, before going still.

His friend came for Mulan next, but she stood ready, breath bated.

“You’ll die for that!” he cried as he galloped towards her in a storm of hooves and ash. Between the black cloth covering his face, his eyes glint with the malice of a true killer.

However, more seasoned than him was Mulan who moved out of the way in time, but not before slicing the belly of his beast. It, too, gave a shrill whinny and abandoned its rider with a fierce buck, before sprinting into the smog around them. The rider scrambled, blindly reaching for the sword he had dropped in his tumble, but Mulan was faster to throw herself on him and glided the tapered edge of her sword against his jugular.

Two down. Mulan ran further into the belly of the village where the flames were hottest. Around her, she could hear the hooves of horses, but she could see little of them. Much of the time, she shut her eyes and allowed her instinct to drive her.

A crucial split second stood between her and being gutted by a maddened bandit, but Mulan was always quicker, smarter, stronger. Whether on horseback or on foot, Mulan was the one to lay the blow that fatally crushed her opponent. They would get a couple of good cuts in, one of them slicing at the side of her neck, but Mulan did away with them with the efficiency she was known for. The same that had made her general in the first place.

But the smoke took its toll on her lungs and it stung her eyes. She was weakened by the stamping of her heart, the soot that clung to the lining of her throat, the blood that flowed from her open wounds, and was unprepared when the next attack arrived from the rear.

She heard the hooves and barely stumbled out of the way, but not before she was clocked in the back of the head hard enough to send her off her feet. She crashed against the stones beneath her, her helmet clattering down the road. Hastily, she moved to rise to her feet, only to once again roll out the way of the horse that had turned back to trample her. However, she thrust her sword up and into the belly of the horse just as it passed.

The sword was yanked from her grip, but the horse wailed and bucked its rider who went flying and slammed into the stone beneath. He was quick to recover by rolling to his feet as his battle horse fell, whinnying in agony.

Mulan rose to her feet, slowly, as her eyes remained on the rider who tried to kill her not a moment ago. They faced each other, silent save for the crackling of the flames, the barking of villagers as they fled.

“Hua Mulan!” boomed the rider. Mulan’s jaw tightened when she recognized the voice.

“An Jie,” she said, shoulders squared. “You will die with the rest of your men.”

A laugh of disbelief bubbled to the surface as An Jie stepped to the side. Mulan mimicked him. They paused, trying to read the other, then fell into step as they circled each other.

“You always did speak far beyond your station,” said An Jie. “I have waited for the moment I could see the smugness fade from your eyes.”

Mulan stopped their mindless dance and twisted her feet into the stone until she was locked where stood. She raised her fists, angled her body, and was ready to bring an end to this. No more words to delay the inevitable.

An Jie was a fool, but he was also a fighter. He sensed the fatalistic thirst in the air and eagerly wished to deliver blood. He surged forward with a remarkable speed and he tackled Mulan to the ground. They thrashed against each other, desperately grappling for supremacy as they kicked up dirt and ash. The blood that flowed between the stones stained their armour as they rolled and tried to beat the life out of the other with a stray elbow, a restless knee.

Mulan scratched An Jie’s face when he finally got to mount her and shoved her thumb right into the socket of his right eye. There was give and a squelch, triggering an animal roar of pain from An Jie. Mulan kicked him over and got on top of him, her hands finding his neck and squeezing with all the strength that was left in her trembling arms. He kicked fruitlessly beneath her, squeaked for help that would not come. Mulan bore her weight on his throat and waited for his body to slow in its movements.

Ideally, that was what would happen. Instead, she did not see the blade that he had procured from his boot until it was deep in her side, reaching for the lining of her stomach.

There was a dire pause that stretched between them. An Jie flipped Mulan onto her back and the dagger exited her body only to hit the same spot, over and over and over, until she was gagging and coughing blood.

The pain was unlike she had ever felt. It was deeper, richer, fuller than any other stabbing she had suffered. It encompassed her entire body like her nerves had been set on fire. It was enough to rob the voice from her throat, the breath from her lungs. She could only grit her teeth and stare into An Jie’s remaining good eye, the other a leaky mess that dribbled onto the front of her chest plate. So overpowered, she could manage nothing but a gargle, a feeble yelp.

Then, An Jie was swept away by a dark and virulent force. Mulan strained to look as An Jie was pinned to the ground as a great, dark beast clamped its long, sharp teeth into his neck. It shook him so hard that an audible crack and pop hit the air. An Jie sagged in the grip of the creature, his eye wide open and his limbs held aloft, lifeless. The animal flung his body aside like one would throw away garbage before it bounded toward Mulan, its golden eyes wide. It almost looked…panicked.

Mulan raised a hand to its snout to soothe it, but it whimpered and poked its nose at the wound in her side. It tried to raise Mulan by gingerly clasping onto her arm and trying to drag her off, but Mulan felt like she was being torn in two. A scream ripped from her throat before she could smother it and the beast dropped her arm as if burned.

“Stop,” Mulan gasped when the wolf shuffled, its eyes wide with what Mulan thought was terror. “Red. Just stop. It’s okay.”

Red whimpered and barked her protest. Mulan forced a grin and passed a hand over Red’s head, finding comfort in the feeling of fur between her fingers. It occurred to her only now that she had never dared tried to pet Red like this while she was in wolf form. It was almost liberating to do so in that moment.

“This is…what it was meant…” Mulan paused to produce another wet cough. She shook, but the pain had become something else, had elevated her to a level where she was aware of it, but no longer felt it. The colour faded from her vision. She gripped Red’s fur, as if trying to anchor herself for a while longer. “Go back, Red. To Dorothy. Please.”

Red stared, as if she didn’t understand, though Mulan knew better. Whatever connection they shared, however tenable, was manifested through Mulan’s restlessness when Red was near, the consolidation of their feelings for each other in the last couple days. But nothing would change that their connection was not meant to last.

“I will…join my father,” Mulan said. Her eyes glanced skyward and she was fleetingly delighted to see that the birds had begun their migration. An arrow of them flew above, unaware of the disaster that had befallen the beautiful village of Guifei.

Her gaze fell back on Red who continued to whimper, loud and clear. Well, that wouldn’t do at all. Mulan shook her head slightly. “I don’t want you to despair. Please. Don’t…mope like I do.”

Even when she attempted to joke, she could not help the stinging in her eyes, the bubble in her throat. Her hand tightened on Red’s fur and she wrestled with herself before she succumbed to one final, selfish act. Her voice rattled when she said, “If you could just…stay with me a while longer…”

Red rubbed her head into the side of Mulan’s neck, the whimpers growing all the louder. Perhaps the tears that were falling down the sides of Mulan’s face were not quite hers, but Red’s. Because there, in that second, she was ultimately at peace. She was in the embrace of her lover and she would soon see her father again. A soldier could not ask for a better send-off.

The stars twinkled at her from above. The cry of a bird was the last thing she heard before she fell up, up, up, until the stars folded her into their warm light.

-

It was an understatement to say that Dorothy was surprised to see Red return to their cottage with a boy clinging to her back. She was right floored by the boy’s presence alone, not to mention the smell of smoke and blood wafting from them both as Red drew closer to the front door.

“Red!” said Dorothy. At the mention of the familiar name, Toto barked and ran out the door to greet Red. Usually, Red would try to entertain Toto by making strange kissy noises and speaking to him in a baby voice, but she was clearly travel-weary. Judging by the tears in her clothes, the crusted blood on her face and neck, and the superficial cuts on her skin, she had gone on something more exciting than a hunting trip.

And when Red’s eyes met hers, Dorothy sensed that something was greatly shifted out of place. Without a word, Red collapsed to her knees before Dorothy and pressed her face into her dress. With her free hand, she took Dorothy’s leg into a death grip and did not show signs of letting go. Her shoulders heaved, but she made no sound.

Dorothy was never sure where Red went every few months, but she always came back all out of sorts, one way or another. This was just about the worst of it, Dorothy figured.

Now was not the time to ask questions. She ran her fingers through Red’s matted hair, trying to gently undo the tangles she found. It was sooty. Patches of it were crusted over with old blood.

Dorothy huffed. Her eyes found the boy who had since climbed off Red’s back and looked into the arcades of trees that lurked beyond the secluded cottage, his stare longing and vacant.

“Oh, honey,” Dorothy murmured as she sank down to Red’s level. She enveloped her in a hug and Red returned it, her grip unyielding. It was not even wolfstime anymore and she was still this strong. “Let it out. Let it out.”

It took a while for Red to squeeze all the grief out of her and, when she was finished, she looked a shell of herself. The boy did not speak when spoken to, but Dorothy offered him some food she had saved for Red. He picked at his food, reconsidered, then sat with that same long stare. He would not let another morsel pass his lips, ignoring Dorothy’s gentle prodding.

It took a bit, but Red finally talked, after she had eaten, washed, and tucked the boy into bed. He slumbered in their shared bed, but his rest was fitful and violent. His whines and sobs echoed from the other room, serving as background noise when Red sat Dorothy down and spoke.

She told her a very long tale, its path starting with the warrior Dorothy only met fleetingly before moving in with Red. She didn’t speak the name—Red could not seem to bring herself to do it—but she admitted to some things that, frankly, made Dorothy’s stomach churn.

When Red finished, Dorothy couldn’t look at her. Even Toto had gone silent, sequestering himself in some corner of the house to take a nap, undisturbed. A couple of minutes passed. Dorothy parted her lips. “Well then.”

“I’m—”

“I suppose the boy—Ho Li, was it?—will need a home now that his old one’s been destroyed,” Dorothy said. “I know what it’s like to lose my parents at a young age. It’s not easy.”

Red nodded, her eyes red-rimmed and watery. Thankfully, no more tears fell. Dorothy wasn’t sure if she could comfort her after what she had heard.

“And, for what it’s worth,” Dorothy added, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Once more, Red nodded. Dorothy heaved a sigh before rising to her feet and striding out the front door, leaving Red to reflect on a year of secrecy, of detraction, and the violence with which fate wrought itself upon her life.

-End.

---

I would like to thank those who remained with this story. Your kudos and verbal support were incredible incentives for me to finally bring Mulan and Red’s story to a close. I started this in 2017 and only got around to finishing it last year but didn’t have the confidence to publish this last chapter until now.

When I first wrote this, it was an angry response to the conclusion of Mulan’s story in OUAT. Not really a fix-it, but a "fuck-it" sort of fic. A scathing criticism of the shoehorned True Love trope that had so easily wedged itself between Red and Mulan’s relationship, if you will. Obviously, the anger has subsided into a vague disappointment. I'm just happy to finish "What Fate Had Wrought" with its intended ending.

Cheers. Thanks again! :)

[writingrage]

What Fate Had Wrought (3/4)

A Mulan/Red Riding Hood|Ruby Fanfic. Also known as Mulan Rouge/ Red Warrior/the best pairing that never was.

Summary: After finding Red’s One True Love, Mulan returns to the village of her childhood, heartbroken twice over. However, the threat of a new beast and an army with unknown intentions looms over the village and disrupts the peace that Mulan tries to cultivate. Red visiting really doesn’t help matters either.

Set a few months after the events of Once Upon a Time 5x18 “Ruby Slippers”

AO3 / Fanfiction.net

CHAPTER 3 - Greed

Five months after the occupation of Commander Song's soldiers, General Zhang returned to Guifei on armoured horseback. Mulan was at the gate of the village to meet him, her sword unsheathed but pointed downward in a gesture of polite alertness. The men at the outpost were on their best behaviour, though that did not stop them from hurling petty slights or withering glares Mulan's way.

Since the altercation in the square with Red, An Jie seemed to have made it his life purpose to make Mulan's job much harder. It was the same complaints of harassment and public intoxication, but now there were also the graver charges of battery and vandalism. Once, in the dead of night, a group of soldiers snuck into the village and attacked a merchant on his way out of the settlement. Such stories inevitably carried on to other travelling merchants and dissuaded them from passing through Guifei. The latter half of the winter was arduous without the travelling merchants to bring in rice, vegetables, mullet, or furs. From then on, Mulan had to stay in the village, hosted by Ho Jian's family.

Ho Jian had a massive family, with all three generations living in the same small house. Their hospitality was appreciated, but she could barely stand being among them. She was almost glad to be standing out here, among men who have, on numerous occasions, cursed her family name. The crisp morning breeze bore the promise of a warm spring and a muggy summer further down the road; patches of dirt and grass poked through the thin layer of melting snow.

This time of year was most comfortable, most refreshing. It made Mulan grateful to have lasted another solemn winter based solely on her own grit and perseverance. Spring was a sign that Mulan had once again survived and this drove her to carry on. This spring, however, Mulan can only feel barren, empty. The past couple of springs had left her wary and spent. She wanted to do nothing but lay herself to rest.

But she was still standing. Not as satisfied to be doing so, but here she was. Here to greet the start of her more recent hardships, or at least half of them.

General Zhang greeted her in kind with that same tight smile that did not, could not, reach his dead stare. They did not bow to each other.

Chief Yao, on the other hand, was on the other end of the spectrum and received Mulan and Zhang with great energy. Obviously, this was a performance, but the chief himself had been under increasing pressure. Much like Mulan, he was shouldered with the suffocating role of mediator, where on one end he dealth with dissatisfied soldiers and on the other end, angry villagers. So far, there was no major retaliation outside of villagers actively blocking soldiers from taverns or rallying around a soldier's latest victim. It was a front of solidarity, but to the soldiers it was the start of a rebellion.

General Zhang was made aware of all this by Chief Yao's letter and addressed it in the meeting with a sombre expression. "It is a shame that there is such tension between my men and the village. We are only here to help."

"And that we understand," Chief Yao said when he saw Mulan open her mouth to lambaste him. "However, the villagers have made it clear that the men stationed here have made it hard to live. They abuse the villagers and destroy property. They are constantly inebriated in public. We just want peace and order, General."

"Alcohol is a good booster of morale," Zhang pointed out. "And are they not paying customers? Surely, they deserve to unwind after weeks of keeping watch for bandits and thieves. That shouldn’t warrant the ire of the people."

"No, but harassing them does," Mulan sniped before the chief could cut her off again. "They grope women and keep them from working. They attack working men and merchants alike. They are out of control."

"From my understanding, the soldiers have been attacked first," said Zhang with a level voice that made Mulan want to strike him. To speak lies so casually, as if she had not seen the truth first hand, was an insult that Mulan could hardly stand for. Despite her judgemental stare, Zhang continued, "My most loyal men have told me that you, General Hua, are involved in a pact with errant villagers to drive them away from their outpost."

"And who told you this?" Mulan snapped.

"Mulan, please," Chief Yao sighed. Sweat beaded on his forehead, but he did not bother patting it away this time. "Keep your voice down."

"Reputable soldiers who have previously followed me into battle," Zhang replied. "I trust them to speak the truth."

Mulan did not hold back her scowl as she said, "Then you don't know your men very well."

"Or perhaps you are trying to cover for yourself," Zhang suggested. Mulan was too stunned to reply, so he continued. "You can't expect me to trust the word of a general who has built her career on lies over my own men. Even you must know this."

"Then can you at least take my word?" Chief Yao asked. "What Mulan says is true. The soldiers here have been making working life harder for the men and women in the village. They attacked a merchant from Agrabah who has since badmouthed our village to half the empire. We rarely get business now."

"My men are on edge," General Zhang said with a dismissive wave. "Between protecting people they feel are conspiring against them and the bandits roaming the forest, they are likely to attack any perceived threat.

"What I'm seeing is a lack of communication," General Zhang added. "One that is only exacerbated by hostility from the villagers. I suggest that you attempt to quell your people, otherwise we will withdraw our support."

Mulan made a sound of disbelief, but one look from the chief held her tongue.

"I understand," Chief Yao said with a slow nod. General Zhang inspected the chief, glanced at Mulan, then looked back at the chief. Then, he said, "It is for this reason that I must raise the price of your protection."

Before she could think better of it, Mulan shouted, "What?"

"Raise the price?" asked Chief Yao. He sounded calmer, but no less incredulous at Zhang's claim.

"Yes," said Zhang with feigned regret. "You see, that is the main reason I came here. I wished to afford you the courtesy of giving you this news personally, straight from Commander Song who now speaks for the empire."

At first, Mulan didn't understand, or perhaps she did not want to. As far as she was concerned, a Commander could only speak for himself, not for the emperor. To claim such was impious. That was, unless, the emperor could not speak for himself due to unusual circumstances.

Mulan bit her cheek as Zhang continued. "The empire now demands that any and all settlements are to receive a tax increase of forty percent. We have attempted to hold off as long as we could, but we are at a turning point in this conflict."

"What conflict is that?" Mulan asked.

"A conflict of chaos versus order," said Zhang. "The empire demands that you partake in this or we will take our business elsewhere. I warn you, however, that life without us will be especially difficult."

A threat. Mulan did not spare a reaction, but she did chance a sidelong glance at the chief who was now covered in a light sheen of sweat.

Just because Mulan had divorced herself from life in the military did not mean that she shut her eyes from what was going on beyond this village. She knew that the empire greatly profited from its twelve-year war with Agrabah; it managed to expand the empire and take control of the artery of the mainland's trade, one that extended from here all the way through Agrabah and into Misthaven. Goods such as silk, fur, porcelain, and jade were traded in for gold, ivory, lapis lazuli and all sorts of foreign treasures. Such trade made the empire prosperous, the nobles in the capital even more so. The empire had no need for raised taxes, lest this money was not for the empire but for something else entirely.

"That is quite the demand," Chief Yao argued. "We can barely feed ourselves after this long winter. To give your soldiers more of what we have would be suicide."

"It is suicide to allow your community to go without the protection of my men," said General Zhang. "In the past five months that my men have occupied this area, we have stopped a number of bandits from invading the village. We guard the roads leading here. If it were not for us, you would have perished a while ago. It is because of mercy that we have not asked for recompense sooner."

"Chief Yao," Mulan said, more harshly than she intended, "think hard about this decision. Please."

"Would you really endanger the lives of these villagers because of a petty disagreement with my soldiers?" General Zhang said as he turned to glare at her. No more were his tight-lipped smiles; now there was an honest frown creasing his face. Good.

"It goes beyond a petty disagreement," Mulan said. "Your soldiers are hated because they make life here more miserable than it should be. You may blind yourself to it, but I won't allow it."

General Zhang's frown deepened as his jaw tightened and his shoulders grew rigid. Then, noticeably, the anger melted away from him and he composed himself within two deep breaths. He closed his eyes for a moment, but when he opened them, Mulan saw hardened resolve. He turned to Chief Yao and spoke with what sounded like grief.

"I didn't want for our meeting to come to this, for I did not want to disgrace General Hua more than she has already disgraced herself, but I'm afraid that it can't be helped," General Zhang said. "The beast that she claimed to have slain, in fact, lives."

"What?" Chief Yao cried. Mulan's blood froze in her veins upon hearing these words. Then, white hot anger.

"What is the meaning of this?" Mulan snapped.

"My men saw the same foul beast running through the woods two months ago," continued General Zhang. "And don't you find it odd that she did not return with a pelt? No meat? I did not want to believe the news, at first, but now that I see that Mulan is not beyond lying, I fear that it is necessary to point out her ineptitude."

She could feel Chief Yao's gaze sear into the side of her head, but her eyes were too focused on General Zhang who wore the face of a disappointed father well. How smug he must be under that thin veil of empathy that he trained into authenticity. Perhaps there was even a part of him that really did feel bad for tearing down a general who was once known as one of the best in the western empire.

"Chief Yao, let me explain," Mulan said as she turned to the chief. "His men are mistaken. They are drunk more than half the time they are on watch. I wouldn't put it past them to have seen things in their stupor."

"Oh, Mulan, you shame yourself," General Zhang admonished. Like she was a child. A woman who had stepped out of place.

"That is General Hua to you," Mulan yelled. She knew what she looked like; like a woman in the throes of hysterics. A woman who was not taught the intricacies of womanhood and who was too much of a hag to be reigned back in. She knew and she could no longer care because she was not a woman, but a warrior. And what a warrior was taught, first and foremost, was to either fight like hell or die with some amount of grace.

She shot up and drew her sword up against Zhang's pale throat, causing Chief Yao to cry out in shock. General Zhang, on the other hand, barely reacted. As if he knew that Mulan would behave like this. He kept his eyes on her sword though, following its every move.

"Mulan," Chief Yao shouted, "lower your weapon! If you have any sense in you left, you will know that this will make this worse for everyone!"

And the words did make sense, but Mulan could barely hear anything beyond the screaming of between her ears, the harshness of her own breath as she pressed her blade harder into Zhang's neck. He squirmed and slowly angled away from the point of the blade. His eyes were on hers. A small twitch of his lip suggested the ghost of a smile.

It hit Mulan right away that she had lost long before he outed her lie to the chief. Whether she killed him or not, whether or not she was discredited in front of Chief Yao, none of that would matter with an army just outside the walls of this village. One that was ready to converge at the first sign of open rebellion.

Mulan's hands shook and as a result the point of the blade could not hold steady. Everyone could see this and it only made the shaking worse.

"As distance tests a horse's strength, so does time reveal a person's character," said Zhang.

She should kill him. She wanted nothing more than to plunge her sword into his throat and relish on the sounds of him gurgling on his own blood. She did not fear power-hungry commanders, she did not fear smug generals, she did not fear their soldiers, and she did not fear death. But it was more than her life at stake and all three here knew that very well.

Mulan sighed and sheathed her sword. Chief Yao audibly released bated breath and Zhang looked far too triumphant for Mulan's liking.

"General Hua," said Chief Yao, his voice firm, "I think it was time you left."

Or perhaps Zhang did not see a woman, after all; nor did he see a child. He most definitely did not see a warrior before him. He saw an object to be set aside. And that he did. General Hua Mulan, champion of the twelve-year war against Agrabah, was reduced to a common con and liar. This really was worse than death.

She turned and marched out of the chief's chamber.

-

The secret to whittling wood was to carve with the grain. For years, Mulan would try to cut against the grain, only to grow frustrated when her weak blades would break under the stress or if her hand slipped and she'd cut herself. It was when she was about to be whisked off into military life that her father caught her trying to whittle wood and taught her the important lesson of cutting with the grain.

"Don't resist if you don't have to," he'd said. Those were his last words to her. Then Mulan went to fight a war she could not even begin to understand and her father died three years later, peacefully, in his sleep.

Despite this, Mulan cut against the grain in all she did. She joined the army in her father's stead when everyone knew that, at the time, female warriors were not allowed. She disguised herself as a man and deceived the soldiers she went to war with, later the ones she sent to their deaths under her command. She cut herself off from all her military contacts as soon as the war was finished. She fought the battles of others in Misthaven when she should have honoured her father's wish and stayed in Guifei. She fought Zhang at every turn.

She had cut against the grain and she had wrought nothing but misery. A dead father. A loss of trust. Two loves lost; ones she was never meant to have in the first place. That was what happened when you resisted the grain.

Mulan whittled slowly. Small, even strokes. With the grain, now, don't stray. The fight was over. She could relax.

She wondered what her father would think of this, of seeing his daughter, a retired general, spending her time without husband or child, sitting out on her porch like an old man and playing with knife and wood. What would he tell her? What would he think? Such thoughts were almost unbearable.

The sun retired behind the trees. The dying rays cast light on Mulan in nothing but a loose wool shirt and slacks. Her uniform was thrown in the corner somewhere, with the empty censer, the stub candles, and the cooled scattered ashes of her old sculptures. All relics from a devastating winter. She would carve out a bird in flight. From there, she would rebuild, one stroke at a time.

-

It was a week into her exile when Mulan suddenly jerked up from her bed in the middle of the night and got dressed. It took a couple of minutes, but eventually Mulan's brain caught up with her actions and, at that point, she was already half-dressed.

Part of her remembered this feeling. The restlessness, the sweating, the pulling. She worried that she would be right about her prediction, but, just in case, she finished getting dressed into a light coat and boots before she stepped out into the chilly night air.

Her eyes combed through bare bushes, past knobby trees, before probing the distance where there was little but shadow and gashes of moonlight filtering through barren branches. Further still, two pinpricks of gold pierced Mulan from afar. They were unmoving, even as the massive body that they belonged to trod carefully through the melting bed of snow. It strayed away from the arcades of trees and into the open road where the moonlight was brightest to reveal its hulking, dark form. From its big teeth hung a red cloak.

Mulan did not spare a smile or even a nod as it haltingly continued its approach. When it was just a few feet away, it lowered its head and peered up at her with the look of one who was contrite. It was as if Red knew all about Mulan's recent disgrace and chalked it up to her doing.

Beast or not, it wouldn't have mattered. Right now, nothing really mattered. Mulan wanted to just return to her shed and fall back asleep, pretend that Red was not here begging for entry, begging for things to return to the way they were while knowing very well that it was not so simple.

But Mulan was, she was starting to realize, an animal herself. Cornered, wild, restless. She needed comfort and companionship and distraction. Red would have to do. She refused to admit that Red would always do.

"It's good to see you," Mulan said. As if on cue, Red dropped the cloak at Mulan's feet and nudged it with her nose. Mulan hesitated before she grabbed the cloak and laid it on Red's shoulders. Mulan, for once, could feel the intricacies of the shift; the way the bones broke and mended, the way the muscles shifted under her skin. Mulan shuddered and sighed before taking a couple of steps back to allow Red to rise to her feet. They made eye contact, then Mulan quickly looked away.

"It's good to see you," Mulan muttered again.

"Mulan," Red said, her voice grave, "I could leave if you don't want me here."

"I want you here," Mulan said, though she did not look at Red, "more than anything."

There was a pause that seemed to stretch on for eternity. Then, Red replied, "Okay."

Even though it was farthest from it. Mulan prided herself in being honest, sometimes brutally so. It came with giving brisk command back when she was in service and it came from her lack of patience for gossip and idle chatter. However, it was when she was in the presence of Aurora—of Red—that she lost her ability to speak frankly and wilted behind a silent stone mask.

It would be easier to come out with it. But to talk about it would be to facilitate something that should not happen.

They entered the shed and, after Mulan asked if she'd eaten anything (she had), Mulan retired for the night. Red hesitated, but eventually joined Mulan in her cot. This time, she made the effort to lay as far from Mulan as possible.

The next morning, Red rose and bathed before Mulan woke up. It was only when Red jostled her that Mulan finally awoke, bleary-eyed and more than a bit irritated.

"What is it, Red?" Mulan demanded. Red frowned at being yelled at and Mulan added, "Sorry, sorry. But why are you waking me?"

The frown never left Red's face, though it shifted from indignation to confusion. "You usually wake up before this time."

"Do I?" Mulan was still half-asleep. "What time is it?"

"Uh," Red said. "I'm guessing it's eleven. It's almost noon. I'm still trying to get used to telling the time without a watch."

Ever since Mulan had been discharged from her duty in Guifei, she felt there was no reason to rise with the sun like she used to. With every passing day, she lost reasons to stray away from her shed at all. Outside of hunting for small critters that were just emerging from the long winter and taking Coursing River to the lake to drink water, she barely had a reason to leave.

"I'm taking a break," Mulan said, though she did rise to sit and stretch out her limbs. She avoided Red's piercing stare.

"You?" she asked. "Take a break? You don't just take breaks."

"Now I do," Mulan mumbled. She hated how petulant she sounded. With a great sigh, Mulan heaved herself up to her feet and padded over to the desk on the other end of the room, now empty save for the half-done sculpture of a bird and another of a lone soldier. She grabbed the bird and the knife before she immersed herself in the numbing work of cutting wood. Red watched her.

"Mulan," she said, very serious now. "What happened?"

There was no real point in hiding this from Red. It was going to come out eventually and the impact would be the same now as it would be tomorrow, when Red inevitably left to rejoin Dorothy who was perhaps her wife by now.

Were they married? Suddenly, Mulan wanted terribly to know, so she looked at Red and said, "Did you do it?"

"Huh?" Red asked. She looked slightly startled. "Do what?"

"Marry her," Mulan elaborated. She felt her palms grow sweaty and her heart thump its way up her throat. She wondered, briefly, what Red saw when she looked down at Mulan, curled over her desk and dead-eyed. An echo of the sombre warrior who'd seen the woman within the wolf, who had travelled alongside her for a whole month.

Red frowned, but her face was a mask otherwise. "Don't change the subject."

"I'm not," Mulan insisted. She only just realized that it did, in fact, look like she had been trying to deflect Red's question. Then again, Red could very well be deflecting as well. It was hard to know who owned the power now that both were hurt in some way. Why was Red here? To torment her? To whisper promises that could not be, to have a taste of something that she could not have, purely because she could not attain it?

"Why did you come?" Mulan blurted out and she hated the way she sounded. Angry. Broken. She couldn't stand it. What was worse was the softening of Red's features, followed by an unfamiliar hardening. It was in this moment that Mulan saw just how estranged they were from each other. They were like strangers to one another.

"I'm visiting a friend," Red said. Mulan bit her lip so hard she could swear she tasted blood, just so she wouldn't say something she regretted. Something like "We're not friends, this isn't what friends do" or "Isn't Dorothy enough?" Such things were too petty even for Mulan, but the fact that they crossed her mind, even for a moment, made her feel ashamed.

Undeterred by Mulan's silence, Red continued. "I...know that last time I visited was confusing. And fucked up. I take full responsibility. The whole idea of getting married was something that Dorothy suggested and—and I got scared and...I came here to try and make up for it. To take it back."

"You can't just take that back," Mulan said. Then, she threw down the block of wood and the knife, never minding that they bounced and scattered. The bird careened off the edge of the desk and tumbled into the ashes near the censer. Dead silence after that. Mulan released a shuddering breath and then took in another.

"I know," Red said, quietly. Mulan felt weak. Weak enough to just crawl back into her cot and never rise again. Instead she rested her head in her hands and shut her eyes. Mulan couldn't think of what to say, so she didn't waste her breath. She could hear Red moving with deceptively quiet steps. She sidled up near Mulan and said, "And part of me doesn't want to take it back. I'm just...sorry for hurting you. That was the last thing I wanted."

Mulan's lip quirked up slightly, despite herself. She said, "I know."

There was a pause, then Red shifted again. Her hand fell upon her knee and squeezed, but it lacked conviction. It was as if she was asking permission to touch. Red probably didn't know how much that meant, in that moment, when Mulan felt like she was losing control of herself.

Mulan raised her head and lowered her hand on Red's. Their fingers tangled together. Or, rather, Mulan consciously slid her fingers between Red's and Red allowed herself to be limp, to be pliable, under Mulan's touch.

Mulan was unused to intimacy. The closest she had been to it was hugging Aurora. She was fourteen when she left for the army and she was shy, withdrawn, almost prudish, and so she had no one to experience closeness with. There was a boy, she thought, when she was eight. He had been eleven. He kissed her and she did not understand what had gone on for the majority of the time, so it hardly counted. He had been conscripted along with Mulan's father and was assigned to a general on the other end of the empire. She never heard of him again.

The army was twelve years of servicing the empire under disguise. She did not allow herself to grow close to fellow soldiers, definitely not close enough to fuck. In the army, it wasn't uncommon for men to sleep with fellow soldiers, especially in the absence of their girlfriends, their wives, their mistresses. Mulan never took the risk and that was why, for twelve years, she stayed frigid. She could only explore her sexuality through the sex lives of other soldiers, sometimes through harmless flirtations with the emperor's numerous concubines. They spoke freely of their sexual escapades with the emperor, for Mulan was familiar to them—perhaps some knew that she was not a soldier like the rest— and Mulan would revisit their stories on nights when she was loneliest or when she did not have time to expend her energy on fighting or training.

This was new. This thing that was blooming between her and Red. It scared her to death, but Mulan also found exhilaration and headiness in this fear, nothing like she had experienced previously.

They sat like this, basking in the comfortable silence. They probably stayed in that position for hours, days, months, centuries. Time was irrelevant here, but they also knew that this wouldn't last.

"I've always been meaning to ask," Red said. "How do you know when I'm coming over?"

It took a moment, but Mulan worked up the courage to raise her head and look Red in the eye. When she did, she saw pale green eyes that were open and curious. Deeper down, there was knowing. Knowing of what, Mulan couldn't be sure.

"It's a feeling," Mulan said. It was best to keep it simple.

"The first time I came over," Red said, "I felt like I was aimless. Like I didn't know where I was going. It was a miracle I ended up at the village. But the second time and even yesterday, I knew exactly where to go. I didn't have to think about it."

"Dogs are good at finding their way home," Mulan said and as soon as she said it, she regretted it. Not so much because she called Red a dog, but more because she hinted at this shack of a place being home for Red. Either way, Red hardly flinched at the statement.

"It's more than that," Red said. She swallowed and she managed a tight-lipped smile. She then bowed her head to break eye contact. "Anyway. You never told me what happened."

Mulan's lip twitched in irritation and she pulled her hand away. She didn't look to see Red's reaction, but Red withdrew her hand so that it rested on her own lap, limp.

She told Red as much as she wanted her to know, and nothing else. She told her about General Zhang's return, the hike in taxes, the thinly-veiled threats. She avoided talking about how his men had seen Red frolicking in the woods. There wasn't any point in saying it now.

"I'm so sorry," Red said, genuinely mournful. "Are you safe? Here, I mean."

"I can't think of anywhere else to go," Mulan sighed. "This is my home. I intend on retiring here."

"You could go to DunBroch," Red fired off. "Merida would love to have you. Or—"

"I don't want to impose," Mulan interrupted. "Besides, most likely I'm safe now that I'm out of the way."

General Zhang made sure Mulan wouldn't show her face in the village again, anyway. She was the furthest thing from a threat at this point.

There wasn't much to say after that. Mulan returned to her carving and Red watched, her chin propped up on her hand and her eyes following Mulan's every move. It was later that Red asked to try herself. Mulan taught her to cut with the grain, never against. Red seemed to have trouble with that; having such brute force, especially when augmented during wolfstime, made it hard for Red to tell that she was not carving the wood properly. She handled the knife well enough though.

It was fun. Talking with Red so casually and laughing with her when her sitting wolf came out looking like a shapeless blob. She sat behind Red, her legs on either side of hers and she took her hands and said, "Here, like this."

Red was warm, soft. She smelled of pines and fresh earth and soft rain. Mulan's hands itched, but this was what she wanted. Not the pining or the bitterness, not so much, but the feeling of Red close by.  This taste of domesticity where Mulan thought there would be room for none. Dorothy was lucky to have her.

-

The next day arrived far too soon. Between teaching Red how to whittle wood and Red teaching Mulan how to cook, the previous day went by in a flash. Mulan woke up the next morning feeling so much anxiety that she had to head out for a walk. Thankfully, this was before Red got up and so she didn't have to think up excuses for her behaviour.

By time she rose, Mulan was grooming Coursing River after having bathed and gotten dressed. For the past couple of months, Mulan had been neglecting to care for Coursing River, but this morning she was so full of nervous energy that she decided to funnel it into picking up on old chores.

"Hey, Mulan," Red said, her voice deep with sleep.

"Good morning," Mulan said as she passed her brush over an especially stubborn knot in Coursing River's hair. She worked to untangle it with semi-frozen fingers. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah," said Red. "Did you?"

Mulan paused briefly, before returning to the knot.

"Quite well," she replied. She was happy to say so for it was the truth.

Red merely nodded and headed towards the lake where she would bathe. Mulan was still stroking the fur of Coursing River by time Red returned.

"I noticed you're out of radishes and eggs," Red said upon return. "I could go get it for you from the village, if you want."

"It's nice of you to offer, but I wouldn't want you to go out of your way," Mulan replied as she yanked out the dead hairs from the brush. "I'll get it in due time."

'In due time' really meant never, or at least close to never. She wanted nothing to do with Guifei since General Zhang peeled her apart in front of the chief. She could hardly stand the idea of going back there now. She could live off the woods. She'd never done it, but she would learn.

"I really don't mind," Red insisted. "Besides, I'd like to prepare something with you. I wanted to take a look at what they might have in the village this time of year."

"Not much, probably," Mulan muttered. "Ever since the last travelling merchant, Guifei's trade has been stagnant. They'll be hesitant to sell much."

"Can I at least try?" Red asked. "As much as I like peace and quiet, I'm ready to climb the walls. I need to move around."

Right. Mulan sometimes forgot that Red was a people person, more so during wolfstime. It would be cruel, she supposed, to have her confined to the cottage in the middle of nowhere.

With a long-suffering sigh, Mulan turned to Red who stood by the door of the shed, her wet hair clinging to her rosy cheeks. She paused to admire her sharp cheekbones, her unwavering eyes. Sometimes Red's beauty was enough to wipe Mulan's brain clean. Imagine Mulan's shock, the year before, when she had broken a witch’s curse on a beast and ended up with a breathless woman straddling her hips.

"My name's Ruby. My friends call me Red." Those had been her first words to Mulan. Had it really been just nine months since that time in DunBroch? It felt like a lifetime ago.

"So?" Red prompted as she raised an eyebrow. Mulan blinked out of her train of thought and muttered an apology. Red only tilted her head and it reminded Mulan so much of an inquisitive puppy that her heart swelled at the sight.

"You may go," Mulan said. "Just...make sure not to attack anyone this time."

"I make no promises," Red said. Mulan scowled and Red cracked a half-smile. "I'm kidding. Don't worry, I'll try not to kill anyone this time. I swear."

"You swear on what?"

"Uh...Toto?"

"Red."

"Don't worry, you can take my word for it!" Red laughed. Mulan rolled her eyes.

"Fine," she spat. Red beamed and it was hard for Mulan to stay irritated with her afterward.

Mulan fetched the reins and saddle from the shed before setting it up on Coursing River for Red's use. Red wanted to walk, to stretch her legs, she said, but Mulan would not budge on this.

"I want you back here as soon as possible," Mulan said. She didn't care if she sounded overprotective or possessive, but having Red in Guifei could go wrong in many ways. Mercifully, Red didn't fight her on it.

She saw Red off with a heavy heart and, once she was gone, Mulan went through sword fighting drills near the back of the shed. It was a way of focusing on something and burning herself out before she could overthink Red's visit to Guifei and run there herself.

One hour became two which then became three. Mulan was ready to run the whole way to the village after all when Red came riding back with a tied up blanket seemingly overflowing with items. When her eyes met Mulan's, she brightened up and waved.

"Red," was the first thing to spring to Mulan's lips before she jogged over to her. "Are you alright? What took you so long? No one harassed you, did they?"

"No, no, I'm okay," Red laughed. Mulan grabbed the blanket full of food and unfolded it. Radishes, millet, rice. No eggs, but Mulan could care less. Red was back in one piece and that was all that mattered.

"You'll be happy to hear that I didn't kill anyone while I was out," Red said. She slid off Coursing River and guided him the rest of the way. Mulan followed close behind as she continued to look through the contents of the blanket. She hummed and paused when her eyes fell on something peculiar.

"What's this?" Mulan asked. Red belatedly noticed that Mulan had stopped and she clumsily came to a halt and steered Coursing River around as she turned to face Mulan.

"What's what?" she asked. She sounded almost innocent.

"This." Mulan laid the blanket down and pulled out the scrap of paper from the pile of food. When she held it up for Red to see, Red raised her eyebrows.

"It must be for you," she said. As if she didn't know. Mulan cast her a glare before lowering the paper and reading it.

Mulan,

I hope this letter finds you well. Your friend offered to carry this message to you. I would have sent Ho Jian, but the soldiers at the outpost do not allow any of the villagers to leave.

Since you have left, General Zhang's soldiers have worsened considerably. They take our crops and beat us when we try to hide our food. We are under the impression that they mean to starve us.

I cannot get involved in affairs involving resistance, although I heard that there will be a meeting tonight at Ho Li's place. It would probably be best to investigate.

You may have lied about the beast, but I know that you always keep the interests of Guifei to heart. If you kept this beast alive, surely you had your reasons.

-Chief Yao Peizhi

Mulan's eyes paused on the name signing off the letter. She reread it, just to be sure, as Red set off to tether Coursing River to the back of the shed. Then a third time.

"Red," Mulan said. Her voice came out flat, quiet, but Red apparently heard because she immediately perked up. Mulan raised the letter again and said, "Tell me the truth."

Red's coy smile was long gone at this point. Now she just looked tired. "Some little kid recognized me from two months ago and basically dragged me over to the chief so he could have me deliver that letter to you."

"That doesn't explain why you were gone three hours," Mulan said.

"The chief took his time writing down the letter," Red replied with a half shrug. "I also may have asked him to fill me in on some details. You...didn't tell me that it's my fault that you couldn't return to Guifei."

"Because it's not," Mulan said as she gathered everything back into the blanket and tied it up neatly. "Whether the soldiers saw you or not, I still would have been kicked out of Guifei. If this letter is telling the truth, it seems General Zhang wanted me out of the way to facilitate these changes. I'm shocked you even got food at all."

"It was food that the villagers hoarded," Red said, sadly. "They were saving it for you."

Mulan didn't trust herself to reply, so she pursed her lips instead.

"I know it's not my place," Red said, "but it's obvious that these villagers believe in you. You've been protecting them for years and they want you to help again."

"My hands are tied," Mulan snapped. "The chief should know. If I go back to Guifei, it will look like I'm colluding with the resistance. To do so would, in Zhang's eyes, be a crime against the empire. Or to whoever is sitting in the throne right now."

"What do you mean?" Red asked. Mulan froze. She didn't want Red to know about all these complications, not when she was about to leave the next day, but since her meeting with General Zhang, the idea haunted her waking hours.

"I am under the impression that there is a coup," Mulan said. "I can't be sure of the details. There are no travelling merchants to bring any news, not since that last one from Agrabah two months ago. But I'm almost certain that this Commander Song has rebelled against the emperor. It would not be the first time."

"Oh," Red said. Her shoulders sagged. "So, you think it's hopeless?"

"I don't know," Mulan said with complete honesty. "Not unless the people of Guifei obey, but, as you saw on your last visit, they do not take well to force. And Zhang's men only know violence. This arrangement won't last."

Red hummed and they sat in the dirt silently, deep in thought. After a couple of minutes, Red raised her head and said, "Villages are always the most vulnerable under a coup. I really don't see this ending well."

"Neither do I," Mulan sighed. "But I'm going, anyway."

"Where?" Red asked, taken aback by Mulan's declaration.

"To Ho Li's place," Mulan clarified. She looked Red in the eyes and said, "I made a promise to my father to protect Guifei. I can't abandon them if they need me."

"Mulan," Red said, with some urgency swimming in her eyes. "What about the soldiers at the outpost? If they see you, they'll know what you're in the village for."

"Let them think what they want," Mulan said. The letter in her hand folded under her fist as her resolve hardened. "I'm going to join the resistance."

Despite what Mulan declared, Red offered a tiny smile.

"Well," she said, "I guess I am, too."

"No, you're not," Mulan said. Red pouted at being denied and it took Mulan every ounce of her strength to keep the frown on her face. "This is not a game. This could get dangerous quickly."

"Hey, I know dangerous," Red replied with what could ironically be a wolfish smile. "And I get pretty dangerous when my friends are threatened."

Red placed a hand on Mulan's fist, the one holding the crumpled letter, and she squeezed. Mulan's hand eased its grip enough that it stopped shaking. More gently, Red added, "I'm here for you. I want you to know that."

"Don't you have to go back tomorrow?" Mulan asked. Red raised an eyebrow.

"I'll send Dorothy a letter telling her that I'll stay a while longer," Red said. "I can't leave with things the way they are."

"I know that you're here for me and I appreciate that," Mulan said. "But this isn't like us fighting King Arthur and Zelena. This isn't like us trying to find a pack of werewolves. In those cases, we were never against an entire empire. Our odds are bleak now."

"Then we'll just have to shift the odds in our favour," Red said with a smile. Since when was Red so cocky? Since when did this become such an endearing trait? "And, no matter what you say, I'm not going anywhere."

As selfish as it was, as foolish as it was, Mulan wanted nothing more than for Red to stay with her. Not out of fear of the unknown so much as she simply wanted her here, with her.

"Are you sure about that?" Mulan asked. She removed her gaze from their joined hands and looked at Red to catch her staring right back.

"I've never been more sure," said Red. Her eyes searched again and Mulan did not see a point in hiding anything now.

"Okay," Mulan said before she leaned forward and kissed her. For a moment, Red knelt before Mulan, frozen, and Mulan had to pull back to see if she'd made a mistake because she didn't know what she was doing. There was that boy from the village and there was her fervent hand and her wandering imagination, but never anything like this. There were so many things that could go wrong and what if Mulan had misread the situation? That she was too late to reciprocate? Suddenly, she felt like a fool.

An apology reached her lips, shortly before Red captured them.

The first time they kissed, it was aggressive and nothing like what Mulan wanted at the time. It was too much, too soon. Mulan had stuck herself in a purgatory that she could not even think of escaping. At least not until now.

In the moment Red kissed her, it was gentle and it was patient. She caressed the back of Mulan's neck, her fingers playing with the hair at her nape and Mulan didn't know what she was doing, but Red was patient.

Eventually, Mulan pulled away, though it pained her to do so. Red's grip on the back of Mulan's neck tightened so that their foreheads pressed together and when Mulan opened her eyes all she saw, all she could know, were green eyes flecked with shards of gold.

"Thank you," Mulan breathed into the little space between their lips. Hers felt sore, but they tingled pleasantly.

"I should be thanking you," Red chuckled. The hand on Mulan's neck moved to cup her face as she said, quietly, "Mind telling me what changed your mind?"

"I think," Mulan began, a small smile touching her lips, "I’ve already tired of cutting with the grain."

If Red didn't understand, she did not show it. Perhaps she did understand. Not that it mattered because, shortly after, Red pulled her in for another kiss, deeper this time. And with this action Mulan's mind was cleared of all thoughts about the past, about the present, about what the future might hold. She forgot about Aurora, she forgot about Dorothy, she forgot about General Zhang. In this moment, all she could think of was Red, here with her. Perhaps for a time. Perhaps for the last time. But right at this moment, she was here and Mulan could not have it any better than this.

[writingrage]

What Fate Had Wrought (2/4)

A Mulan Rouge (Red Warrior?? Still confused on that front) Fanfic

Summary: After finding Red’s One True Love, Mulan returns to the village of her childhood, heartbroken twice over. However, the threat of a new beast and an army with unknown intentions looms over the village and disrupts the peace that Mulan tries to cultivate. Red visiting really doesn’t help matters either.

Set a few months after the events of 5x18 “Ruby Slippers”

AO3 / Fanfiction.net

CHAPTER 2 - Doubt

A broken gasp ripped from Mulan’s lips as her eyes snapped open, her eyes glazed and unfocused. It took a few minutes of her catching her breath and her brain slowly reorienting herself that she realized that she had only emerged from a nightmare. It took her even longer to notice the dagger gripped tightly in her shaky hand. She sighed and shoved the dagger back under her pillow before she rose to prepare herself for the day.

It was not uncommon to wake from nightmares since she’d returned from her time in the imperial army. Going from fighting pirates from Agrabah at the border of the empire day and night to the peace of the mountains and the prestige of being a war veteran was such a stunning contrast that her brain never quite managed to keep up with the changes. She still remembered, with frightening vividness, seeing her comrades slain in battle like cattle, coming upon the charred remains of a village razed to the ground, and choking on the thick smell of pork that wafted through the air as she helped burn the bodies of the dead in mass graves. Sometimes, Mulan felt she had never left. Such was the legacy of war.

The dreams had briefly been dulled when Mulan slept alongside Princess Aurora back in Misthaven. The day she left Princess Aurora and Prince Phillip to their newly developing family, the nightmares returned with a vengeance, only to be tempered in the time she spent travelling with Red. Now that she was alone again, the nightmares preyed on her once more.

Keep reading

[writingrage]

What Fate Had Wrought (2/4)

A Mulan Rouge (Red Warrior?? Still confused on that front) Fanfic

Summary: After finding Red’s One True Love, Mulan returns to the village of her childhood, heartbroken twice over. However, the threat of a new beast and an army with unknown intentions looms over the village and disrupts the peace that Mulan tries to cultivate. Red visiting really doesn’t help matters either.

Set a few months after the events of 5x18 “Ruby Slippers”

AO3 / Fanfiction.net

CHAPTER 2 - Doubt

A broken gasp ripped from Mulan's lips as her eyes snapped open, her eyes glazed and unfocused. It took a few minutes of her catching her breath and her brain slowly reorienting herself that she realized that she had only emerged from a nightmare. It took her even longer to notice the dagger gripped tightly in her shaky hand. She sighed and shoved the dagger back under her pillow before she rose to prepare herself for the day.

It was not uncommon to wake from nightmares since she'd returned from her time in the imperial army. Going from fighting pirates from Agrabah at the border of the empire day and night to the peace of the mountains and the prestige of being a war veteran was such a stunning contrast that her brain never quite managed to keep up with the changes. She still remembered, with frightening vividness, seeing her comrades slain in battle like cattle, coming upon the charred remains of a village razed to the ground, and choking on the thick smell of pork that wafted through the air as she helped burn the bodies of the dead in mass graves. Sometimes, Mulan felt she had never left. Such was the legacy of war.

The dreams had briefly been dulled when Mulan slept alongside Princess Aurora back in Misthaven. The day she left Princess Aurora and Prince Phillip to their newly developing family, the nightmares returned with a vengeance, only to be tempered in the time she spent travelling with Red. Now that she was alone again, the nightmares preyed on her once more.

Mulan shrugged on her old fox skin coat and slipped on her matching gloves and boots before she grabbed a bag and a metal bucket from the corner of the hut. This morning, much like every morning since the winter began, she would gather water from the fountain in Guifei square as well as trade in the furs she'd gathered during the summer for coal, cured fish, and a pound of rice. Guifei had given her some supplies to live off of, but it was not nearly enough to survive the whole brutal winter.

She mounted Coursing River and rode at a steady pace to the village where she would, hopefully, conduct her business quickly and return to her shed. She made sure not to make eye contact with the soldiers by the gate who stared at her as she rode in.

Since General Zhang left three months ago, he made sure to leave an outpost of a couple dozen men behind, as he promised. If his intention was to really protect Guifei, the men he left behind did not get the order. Mulan could safely say that his men had done nothing to help her keep the people of Guifei safe.

In fact, they had been infuriatingly troublesome since they were stationed there. They were loud, rowdy, violent. They were clearly bitter about being left in such a small village on the precipice of winter and so they sequestered themselves in the taverns to drink and harass the villagers. On numerous occasions, Mulan had to be called in to police them. At first, they were so fearful of the veteran Mulan that they obeyed her without question. However, they seemed to grow tired of having her mother them and they did not try to hide their contempt which Mulan worried would one day outweigh their fear of her.

The village was bustling, as it always did. Mulan was recognized by a few men working and was greeted cordially. Ho Jian's father, Ho Li, actually stopped what he was doing to strike up conversation with her, but she insisted that she had things to do and that she was in a hurry.

When she reached the square, she was pleasantly surprised to see that there were still merchants there. Since the outpost established itself outside the gate, Zhang's soldiers had been charging the merchants that came in from the Silk Road. Mulan still had a hard time catching them in the act and giving them stern warnings on unproven accusations only served to frustrate the soldiers.

She approached one of the merchants and, when he saw the imperial seal on her coat, he automatically gave her extra of all the things she required.

"Long live the emperor," he said as Mulan gathered her things.

"Long live the emperor," Mulan said in kind.

"I can tell that you are not like the thugs outside," he said. "You carry yourself well. As an imperial soldier should!"

"Thank you," Mulan said. Surely, she thought with a hint of bitterness, he would not say anything of the sort had he seen her last year, shortly after departing from the Merry Men. Good for her that she was long divorced from that time in her life. How come it didn't feel like she’d moved on from it, though?

"Song's men," the merchant scoffed. "He is trouble. He has men posted all over the western empire in villages such as this."

"You speak freely of a man of such high station?" Mulan asked. Usually, it was considered treason to speak of a politician like this, with such casual disdain, but Mulan was far above getting hung up on such scruples. She was more concerned with hearing the news on Commander Song.

The merchant looked around, to check to see if there was anyone listening in. He appeared satisfied with what he found—or didn't find—and leaned in slightly.

"I understand that you have probably fought alongside Song," said the merchant. "Heaven knows that he has thousands of men willing to fall on their swords for him. Don't get me wrong; such loyalty cannot be underestimated. That being said, Song has garnered a following of thugs to do tax collecting."

"Tax collecting?" Mulan prompted with a frown.

"The greed of politicians knows no bounds," said the merchant. "He may have been an honourable man, once. Not anymore."

"What use is tax collection from small villages such as this?" Mulan asked. "The empire has been prosperous since the end of the war. The Silk Road has been reopened and the economy is fruitful. If there is such a pressing need for money, the annexed islands of Agrabah should be paying tax before the villages."

Something that then-General Song would know. After all, he was the one who had led his army stationed in Xuanzong past the border and flush into the land of the enemy to lay siege. That was earlier in the war, about five years in. The siege had lasted four hundred days until word came around that General Song, now Commander Song, had finally claimed the land. Land that he then tried to claim for himself.

Had a lesser general done so, they would have been slain, but Song's men were loyal. So loyal, in fact, that they bordered on fanatical. It was said that Song would be dead a hundred times over if a hundred men had not sacrificed themselves for him. It was only with the threat of the emperor's wrath that Song eventually relinquished his hold on the colonies.

Mulan, by then a general, remembered thinking that her men didn't like her nearly as much.

"I hear that this is the result of tension in the capital," said the merchant. Mulan was jarred from her thoughts, though she tried not to show it. "I am not privy to the details, but other merchants speak of Commander Song's generals and their greed. The emperor has spoken against them, apparently, but the power is so unstable now since the war. Commanders such as Song are seizing opportunities to consolidate their power. That includes having generals and officers steal from settlements under their rule. Savages, the lot of them."

"As long as I am here, that won't happen," Mulan said. Her eyes narrowed. "I made a promise to protect this place. I won't go against it."

The merchant did not appear moved by her promise. Not that he had any reason to be; it was all too easy to make airy declarations, but another thing entirely to actively resist the will of numerous men with twice her power. For while Mulan was a retired general, she had since removed herself from public life. Many of her men probably thought her dead as she never tried to keep in touch with them. She had no one to vouch for her. But all Mulan had were promises, those made by her father, by herself. She was beholden to them till death and if death meant staying true to her word, then she would do so unflinchingly.

She shoved everything in her bag and mounted Coursing River to head towards the gates leading out into the wintry forest. Just as she was about to leave, she heard a boy’s voice call out to her. When she halted Coursing River and turned, she saw young Ho Jian jog through the snow in her direction.

"Mulan," he wheezed once he was just a few feet away. He was still trying to catch his breath. "Chief Yao...he asks for your presence."

"Is it An Jie?" asked Mulan. An Jie being one of the men posted near the village. Many of Zhang's soldiers were pests, but An Jie was particularly problematic. She had butted heads more than once with him in the past and, the more she confronted him, the bolder he became. Just the other day, he poured a bottle of wine out at her feet when she chided him for being publicly intoxicated and harassing the women working at the communal well. It had taken everything in her not to smack him for that, but she’d given him a good jostle before sending him off to sober up.

"He didn't mention him, so I don't think so," said Ho Jian. "Follow me!"

Mulan held back a sigh as she shouldered her belongings and followed Ho Jian to the chief's chamber.

Upon arrival, Mulan and the chief exchanged greetings before Mulan sat before them across the table.

"I'm afraid I might have a bit of an issue," said Chief Yao without preamble. "The men stationed beyond the gate have been giving the villagers a lot of grief. They are becoming restless, Mulan."

"I know," Mulan sighed. Indeed, Zhang's men had already long outstayed their welcome. The people of the village had been afraid of them, at first, but when the severity of their abuses escalated, the villagers grew more and more defiant. There had been occasions where young men of the village would take it upon themselves to throw stones at the outpost. Tensions were mounting at a dizzying rate.

"I am just worried that the villagers might be...conspiring against General Zhang's men," said Chief Yao. "I don't want a repeat of the Yaoguai incident. I can't lose good men to a force that they think they can handle."

Mulan held back a shudder at the memory. She knew now that it was merely Prince Phillip held under the thrall of a witch, but back then, she only knew the mess that she had come upon that muggy morning, when dew clung to the air and accented the scent of fresh blood and gore festering in the sun. She only knew the wails of grieving wives and children, the sleepless nights wondering how she could not have prevented that tragedy. She had sworn never to let it happen again and she was going to keep that promise.

"I'll do my best," Mulan said. She meant every word.

-

A bitterly cold wind slipped in from the left wall of Mulan's hut as she whittled wood by her table. She sighed before setting down her knife and block of wood and moved over to the clay censer where she poked the hot coals for the fifth time that night.

The winter winds were especially aggressive this evening and they howled desperately from beyond the walls of her hut. The good thing about it was that Mulan wouldn't have to worry about General Zhang's men leaving their outpost to provoke the villagers. However, Mulan was becoming more and more agitated, like she was ready to jump out of her skin and she couldn't pick out a reason why.

She blamed the anxiety, at first. Since her visit to see the chief four days ago, Mulan found she had to split her attention between General Zhang's outpost and the villagers. On the one hand, she was met with open hostility from the soldiers who continued to steal and beat the villagers; on the other hand, there were the young villagers who pushed back and crowded soldiers in a sign of open confrontation. Mulan was forced to play middleman in many of these conflicts and she had gained no friends from this role.

But this feeling that hounded her was not connected. It was a physical pull that clenched at her gut and made her sweat, despite the cold. It had kicked in since the night before and seemed to show no signs of abating.

Mulan sighed before grabbing her coat, breeches, and boots and stepping out into the snow. The cold eased the burn in her veins, though not by much. Perhaps, when this spell passed, she could return to the warmth of her shed instead of risk catching frostbite.

However, all thoughts of her shed and the sensations plaguing her were cleared from her mind as she saw a shadow bob toward her from among the bare trees. When Mulan saw the graceful gait of a four-legged beast with golden eyes and a coat of thick, black fur, she could not stop the smile that split her face. So big was her smile that she was grateful for the scarf covering her face.

"I see I'm not the only one wearing a thicker coat," Mulan said in way of greeting. At being addressed, the wolf's tail wagged vigorously and it quickened its stride until it was bounding toward Mulan. Once it got close enough, it scurried to a halt and pawed at the snow in its excitement. Between its teeth was a red cloak, dusty with snow. When the wolf dropped the cloth to the ground, Mulan tilted her head with a raised brow. The wolf yipped.

"Easy, girl," Mulan laughed as she bent over to grab the cloak. "You might get the wrong attention."

The wolf shifted restlessly with its tongue lolling out as Mulan unfolded the cloak and threw it onto its shoulders. Within two breaths, the beast shifted back into a smiling, rosy-cheeked Red. At the sight of it, Mulan's heart expanded in her chest.

"Hey Mulan," she said, breathless. Her breath came in puffs of white vapour.

"Hey," Mulan replied. "You're in high spirits, I see."

"Runner's high," Red said as she straightened up. "You really oughta try going for a jog as a wolf sometime. It's fun."

"I'll be sure to try it if ever I'm turned into a werewolf," Mulan joked. She stepped aside and motioned to the door. "Come in."

Red briefly hesitated before she walked into Mulan's home. Mulan trailed after her and shut the door as Red took in the slightly modified surroundings. Much like the first time, her eyes wandered over to the statues that sat on the table next to a pile of books Mulan hadn't touched in three months.

"Nice wallpaper," Red said in reference to the wool nailed to the walls. A desperate act fuelled by the need for warmth on Mulan's part.

"It works," Mulan protested as she removed her coat again and placed it on the chair by the table. She pretended not to see Red roll her eyes. "It's good to see you again. I didn't think you'd visit again after last time."

"Why wouldn't I?" Red asked with a frown. "If anything, I should have come by earlier, but I was held back by a few things."

"Is everything all right back in Misthaven?" Mulan asked. She badly wished to ask about Aurora, to ask about the pregnancy. Was she happy? Was she comfortable? Was Prince Phillip treating her right? She held her tongue and let Red speak.

"As good as it'll ever be," Red said with a half-smile. "I think I'm starting to get along with Toto. He doesn't try to maul me during wolfstime anymore."

"How is Dorothy?" Mulan asked as she returned to her wood whittling. She made sure to cut with the grain, never against. Just as her father told her.

It was brief and had Mulan not glanced up she would have missed the slight twitch in Red's smile. As if nothing happened, Red said, "We're thinking of getting married."

Mulan's hand slipped and the blade of the sharp knife dug into her hand. She dropped everything with a hiss and Red was by her side in an instant, asking if she was okay. Mulan could barely hear Red, barely feel the pain, as all she knew was the rushing of blood past her ears.

Her chest threatened to cave in as Red's words began to register. She was getting married. To Dorothy. After only a few months of knowing each other.

It was expected, really. Mulan didn't want to think it would happen so soon, but here it was and her body felt hot, way too hot. She took in a shaky breath and her eyes found the bead of blood that welled up in the centre of her palm. She could barely feel it, but Red fussed over it as if it was a mortal wound.

"I—" Mulan cleared her throat. It sounded like she hadn't used her voice in a year. "It's nothing, Red. Sorry to scare you."

"Are you sure?" Red asked. "Shit. I shouldn't have dropped that on you while you were handling sharp objects."

"It's fine," Mulan said. She pulled her hand away from between Red's and carelessly wiped away the blood, smearing it. She looked up into Red's eyes and mustered up her best smile. "And don't be sorry. That is wonderful news."

"It's not set in stone, but it's something we were considering for a month now," Red said. Her eyes were searching before she added, "I guess it seems a bit fast, huh?"

"Not at all," Mulan said. "She's your true love. You should want to get married."

Red blinked and leaned back slightly. With a wrinkle in her brow, she whispered, "Yeah. I should."

They didn't exchange many words afterwards. Mulan congratulated her and Red thanked her. Then Mulan stepped out with the excuse of cleaning off her wound with the snow. She rounded the back and squatted in the cold dark with her head between her legs. If she would cry, she was determined not to let anyone see or hear, especially not Red.

After cleaning off her hand and face, she returned to the hut where she found Red already curled up in the cot. The candles were out and the coals in the censer crackled. She retired to the cot in the familiar yet unwelcome silence, making sure to stay as far from Red as she could. She didn't sleep until hours later.

The following morning was just as stiff. They took turns bathing with water warmed over a fire without exchanging many words beyond the occasional lament on a lack of running water from Red and Mulan's grunts of acknowledgement. There had been a shift and Mulan couldn't help but feel irresponsible. These...feelings for Red were unforeseen and they were burdensome, but that was all they were. Red did not deserve to be treated like a stranger, not when she had come all the way here to visit Mulan.

So, Mulan tried to lighten the mood with casual conversation. It was only when she tried to do so that she remembered that she was a bad conversationalist. Military life did not prepare one for inane discussions on the weather. Their interactions came to stuttering, painful halts after a couple of exchanges. For once, Mulan was happy to go into the village and police everybody, just as long as it allowed her to escape the small space she shared with Red.

"I'll be going to Guifei," Mulan announced. Red looked so much larger here, stuck in Mulan's humble shed. It was like she was caught in a tiny space with hardly any elbow room. It didn't help that Red was pacing around like a caged animal. Seeing this, Mulan added, "Would you like to join me?"

"Oh," said Red as she paused in her pacing. She looked shocked at the invitation, but she accepted.

After mounting Coursing River, Mulan and Red rode into Guifei. The men at the outpost stared at Red more than Mulan this time and whispered among themselves as Coursing River led them through the gates.

"Charming," Red muttered.

"Is something wrong?" Mulan asked as they rode through the narrow stone street towards the village square. That was where most of the soldiers frequently created chaos.

"Couldn't help but overhear what those soldiers were saying," Red said. "Wolfstime, remember?"

"Do I want to know what they said?" asked Mulan as she tightened her grip on the reins. She knew General Zhang's men to be a vile lot, one that was full of thieves and gang members, converted to a cause that was even beyond them. They were amassed under Zhang at the behest of Commander Song, seduced by the promise of absolution for past crimes.

"Nothing I haven't heard at the taverns before," Red said. "They seem to have something against you though."

Not surprising, considering she always ran them out of the village when they were rowdy. No matter how tough they thought they were, they were often cowed by how quickly Mulan would go to violence in a confrontation. They labelled her hysterical and brutish, but this reputation had worked in her favour thus far. Her time in the military taught her ruthlessness, while her time in the Enchanted Forest taught her how to utilize it well.

"Are they giving you trouble?" Red asked, her voice quieter. Mulan sighed.

"A bit," she said, "but I have it under control."

Red didn't reply to this. Mulan couldn't be sure if she believed her or not, but concern still wafted off of her like a scent.

They traversed the streets of the village in silence. Occasionally, a villager would greet Mulan or a passing soldier would sneer at her. These were the only times that Mulan would speak, seeing as Red was determined to keep silent on this errand.

It was an hour into going through the same streets that Mulan asked, "Are you still there, Red?"

There was a pause before Red muttered, "Yeah, I'm still here."

"Tell me if you want to rest or if you need anything," Mulan offered. "I should have warned you about how boring patrols can be. I only do this to ensure the peace, though sometimes it doesn't always work that way."

"It's fine," Red said. "Don't worry about me. I'm just thinking."

About what? Mulan wanted to ask, but she held back. Red's mood didn't seem all too open at the moment. This was disheartening, if only because Red got the sense that perhaps the pivotal news about her possible marriage was not received well. It wasn't, but the last thing Mulan wanted Red to think was that she was not looking out for Red's happiness. A part of Mulan had just foolishly clung onto a fancy that she still hadn't shaken off.

Deep down, Mulan knew that this was not meant to be. Much like her and Aurora, Mulan and Red were not destined for each other. Not like Prince Phillip and Aurora; not like Red and Dorothy. Mulan could not compete with true love and she knew this. This was something that she had to come to terms with and she no longer wished to lose another friend over matters of the heart.

So, Mulan said, "If you two go ahead, you have my blessing."

"What?" Red asked.

"I'm talking about you and Dorothy," Mulan elaborated. "I had...other things on my mind and didn't properly congratulate you when you gave me your news. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression."

"No, you—" Red sighed heavily and a long pause followed. After a tense minute, Red went again. "I'm sorry, too. Don't worry, I'm not mad at you or anything. I just have a lot on my mind."

"I guess we've both had too much of that lately," Mulan said. Red laughed, though it rang a little hollow. Mulan smiled ruefully under her helmet and added, "Whatever you choose to do, I support you wholeheartedly. I just want you to know."

Red didn't respond for such a long time that Mulan wondered if she had said the wrong thing until Red said, quietly, "I know."

More tense silence. Mulan did not try to break it again.

It was in the village square, four hours later, that the soldiers decided to have a bit too much to drink at the local tavern. They emerged from the establishment with red-cheeks and crooked smiles as they carried their ceramic cups of cheap liquor out the doors. Barrel-chested An Jie, dressed in nothing but a thin coat and trousers, stumbled out into the snow with his men, looking just as drunk as they.

More than once, Mulan would get an earful from the tavern owner, Gao Feng, about the mess of vomit and broken china the soldiers would leave behind. Sometimes Mulan would only catch the aftermath, but it appeared that today she was lucky enough to come across them while they were completely inebriated.

They were not bothering anyone aside from the loud singing and the obnoxious sounds they made at women passing by, but Mulan knew them well enough not to trust them to behave. She rode Coursing River to the front of the tavern and said, "I hope you intend on taking yourselves home."

"Now why would we do that?" An Jie snapped. Typical.

Mulan resisted rolling her eyes as she replied, "Go home. You're drunk."

"We haven't even done anything besides have a good time," snarled one of An Jie's friends. Mousy, scrawny. His exposed neck was covered in tattoos. "Just because you're frigid doesn't mean we should be, too."

"We've been down this path before," Mulan said in warning. "If you don't leave, I will make you."

"You insult us, Hua!" said An Jie as took a couple of steps forward. "Do fellow soldiers not deserve honour and respect? I suppose I cannot expect a woman to understand the sanctity of such a brotherhood."

"I doubt this brotherhood permits you to shame yourselves by grabbing women and throwing up in public," Mulan shot back dryly. An Jie's face reddened further at Mulan's remark and, this time, the alcohol had nothing to do with it.

"Wit is hardly fitting on you," spat An Jie. He was still advancing on them and Mulan responded by sliding off Coursing River to stand her ground more personally. Her hand was poised on her sheathed sword as An Jie paused just a couple of feet away. His drinking friends stood behind him, stiff and unnerved by Mulan's proximity. They were always braver when she was at a distance, but when Mulan drew closer, they were hasty to improve their attitudes. They perhaps could only see the haunting that lingered in her eyes, the tempest that hid behind a thin veil of forced courtesy, only when she was up close, and they wished not to provoke it.

All seemed to get a glimpse of this and understood that Mulan was no mere soldier but a veteran of a long and bloody war. All except An Jie who could see nothing but a woman who had reached leagues beyond her proper station through deceit.

"I would mind that tongue if I were you, Hua," he said. He pointed a finger at her but did not dare touch. "We are thousands of men while you are only one. How long until the people of Guifei realize that they will need an army and not a washed-up soldier to defend them from outside threats?"

"You're making a fool of yourself," Mulan said as she glanced around to see that they were garnering an audience. "Keep your voice down."

"I will not," cried An Jie. His breath reeked of liquor. "One day, Mulan, you and your ilk will perish in the eyes of the people and Commander Song will take over!"

"Is that a threat, An?" Mulan snapped. She took a step forward until they were but an inch apart. An Jie was relatively short, about a couple of inches shorter than Mulan, but he made up for it in stocky muscle. If he was deft enough and not nearly as drunk, Mulan would be wary of him.

"It is a promise," An Jie snarled. Then he spat in her face.

It happened in two seconds. One second, Mulan reached for her sword, well-intent on drawing it out and striking An Jie with the pommel. The spit got in her eye, so she was working half-blind, but she didn't care because no one spat at her and breathed a second breath without repercussion. The next second, a rock soared through the air and hit An Jie square in the face. An Jie cried out and slapped a hand over his nose. Afterwards there was incriminating silence, one that was so dense that all Mulan could hear was her own ragged breath and the light tap of the blood seeping through An Jie's fingers and hitting the wooden veranda of the tavern.

After a moment, Mulan was the first to react as she turned to inspect the crowd. Fleetingly, she saw the back of a fleeing boy as he broke through the crowd and went sprinting down one of the narrow roads between squat wooden houses. Mulan caught sight of the small braid waving in the wind, the reddened heels poking out from leather sandals. It was Ho Jian.

And before she could react further, An Jie was swearing and tearing off after Ho Jian, his knife brandished in a bloody hand. He looked like a demon with a face so red it bordered on purple, caked in blood from a crooked nose. The onlookers, rather than parting for him, clumped themselves in front of the road that Ho Jian used to escape. They held their rakes, their hoes, even their clay bowls at the ready with stone-faced determination. Some others held rocks with the same expression.

Ah. So, this was the resistance that the chief had warned against.

"Out of my way, filthy peasants!" snarled An Jie as he advanced on them. When they did not show signs of moving, he rushed them with his knife. An escalation that Mulan had not counted on, at least not so quickly. She rushed forward to pull An Jie away from the villagers when, after just one step, she was almost bowled over by a red wind.

Red swooped ahead and grabbed An Jie by the throat. Mulan's sword was poised in the open, tightly gripped in her hand as she watched Red slam the burly An Jie into the snow like he weighed less than air. His friends visibly quailed at this display of strength and shrunk out of the way. The villagers shuffled away to give Red and An Jie a wide berth.

An Jie choked out a garbled cry as Red tightened her grip on his neck. Her back was to Mulan, but, judging by the rigidity of her shoulders and the way the hand holding An Jie flexed, as if itching to crush his windpipe, she could see that Red was teetering on an edge.

"Take that back," Red muttered. Her voice was barely speaking level, but in the quiet that fell over the square, it rung clear like the chime of a bell.

An Jie's response was to gag. His eyes bulged from his reddening face as he clawed at Red's gloved hand. She didn't show signs of letting up, so Mulan stepped forward.

"Red," she said, "that's enough. Release him!"

Red turned to Mulan and what Mulan saw made her stop dead in her tracks. For Red's eyes were no longer a pale green, but a vibrant yellow. It was then that it occurred to Mulan that it was still wolfstime; Red was probably wont to change if provoked. Red was still a wolf, at the end of the day.

Red seemed to see what Mulan saw and she hastily pulled away from An Jie as if he was a hot coal. He laid in the snow for a moment as he tried to catch his breath and rolled onto his knees to wretch like a sick dog. Saliva dribbled from his gaping mouth as he tried to catch his breath.

"I'm—" Red looked from An Jie, to Mulan. Her gaze was furtive, frantic. They were at least back to a pale green, but what replaced the searing anger was a chilling fear. Shame lingered beneath it all, like the rot one would find when turning over an otherwise ripe and healthy fruit. Red looked ready to bolt, but she stayed anchored with shoulders squared.

Mulan nodded at Red. A neutral act of acceptance. Red nodded back, but she didn't look like she knew what the nod meant. To be honest, neither did Mulan.

"Disgusting," An Jie rasped in between bouts of coughs. His dark eyes found Red and there was nothing but hate in them. "To have an outsider fight your battles! You lack shame, Mulan."

"I think we know very well that I could have taken you," Mulan said with a dismissive gesture. "Hopefully my friend has given you enough incentive to finally leave."

An Jie's comrades were like a silent cloud as they lingered in the periphery of Mulan's vision. Red seemed to have her eye on them, which dissuaded them from approaching. Only when An Jie dragged himself up to his feet did they trickled towards him with the intention of helping him along on his retreat. He shrugged them off and turned back to Mulan.

"Don't think that this is over," he growled. Mulan didn't reply. With a deep breath, he straightened his posture the best he could and marched out of the village square. His fellow soldiers followed after him, making sure to keep distance between themselves and Red.

When they were out of sight, the villagers returned to work at once. Men gathered up the sacks of grain they'd dropped. Women returned to the task of washing laundry in the communal well. The children slipped into the winding narrow roads to continue their games. Or to go check on Ho Jian.

Mulan sighed. "Let's go," she said as she mounted Coursing River again. She offered a hand to Red who bypassed it and climbed the horse on her own. Mulan didn't question it as she led Coursing River into the nearest street to recommence the patrol. They went up and down a few more streets before Mulan called it a night. She was much to distracted to continue, anyway.

They slipped out of the village and made the trek through the snow in silence. The soldiers at the gate watched Mulan and Red leave. They were different from the ones posted there when they came in earlier that morning.

When they reached the shed, Mulan and Red did not speak for hours. It didn't help that, as soon as the sun set, Red went on a run.

"I need to clear my head," she said. Mulan was trying to replicate what they'd had the first time they cooked together, but Mulan couldn't quite get some of the components right. It didn't help that her food was already on short supply due to the winter season. When Red made this announcement and left shortly after, Mulan was left with two servings of food. The other plate was cold and mushy when Red finally returned hours later. She didn't eat what was left, claiming that she ate while she was out.

They both knew it was because Mulan's cooking was horrible. Mulan didn't point it out and that was the end of that.

Mulan didn't know what happened between them. There had been moments on the road from DunBroch when things did get tense and strange. Red's need of a pack had been so strong on some days that all she could do was disengage and snap when jarred from her thoughts. Other times, Mulan's heartbreak over Aurora had been so hard to bear that she barely had the energy to carry on a conversation. But, in those times, they had understood that past hardships made them what they were. They respected and appreciated each other's boundaries back then.

But now Mulan could not see where the boundaries were or what their natures entailed. Only that she had crossed a threshold that she shouldn't have. Similarly, Mulan didn't know how to act around Red. Her Red, who was potentially going to get married. Her Red, who smiled so fully and so genuinely that it was all Mulan could see. Her Red, who was destined for another and not for her. Mulan stared at the uneaten food as if it personally attacked her. She was supposed to be over this. It hurt to think about how far away she was from acceptance when she previously thought that she was so close to being okay.

They retired to bed with the howling wind and the crackling coals as the only sounds hampering the chasm that yawned between them. Red slumbered with her back turned to Mulan. Mulan stared at the ceiling, angry and scared. Angry at herself for not being over futile emotions. Scared that she will never surmount these emotional blockages.

"I'm sorry." Mulan startled at the sound of Red's voice and she turned to her. From what she could make out in the dark, Red still had her back to her.

"For what?" Mulan asked, her voice just as quiet. There was no need to whisper, for they were the only ones within a mile radius, but it would feel wrong to speak any louder. Like doing so would shatter the tentative peace that bloomed between them.

"For scaring you earlier," Red sighed. "Sometimes I forget that—that being a wolf scares you, too."

At this, Mulan shifted uncomfortably. "You didn't scare me. You'd have to do a lot worse than change the colour of your eyes."

Red didn't budge and didn't answer for a minute or two. She then shifted to roll around. Mulan knew this because she could feel warm breath on her face, could feel the heaviness of her gaze even in the dark.

"Can I tell you something?" Red asked. She sounded ready to shatter and it broke Mulan's heart to hear her this way.

"Anything," Mulan said with meaning. Red released a shaky sigh.

"I—" She failed to continue. Mulan extended a hand to lay on Red's shoulder, as a way of awkward comfort, but Red grasped it in her own. The skin of her hand was smooth. A little clammy and calloused, but it sent jolts down Mulan's spine just to feel it.

"You what?" Mulan probed.

"Do you know why I came here the first time?" Red asked. Mulan barely flinched at the deflection and instead rolled with it.

"You never told me," Mulan said.

"I wanted to visit you, obviously," Red began. "But I also needed to get away...from Dorothy, I guess. Give her space. She was still coming to terms with me turning into a wolf and everything. It wasn't easy for her to see me and the wolf as one and the same."

Red's grip on Mulan's hand tightened.

"Sometimes I think she still has trouble," she added with a sigh.

"These things take time," Mulan said. It was an automatic response. Anything to dissuade herself from doing anything stupid. She continued, "She'll come around."

"God, Mulan, but what if—what if she doesn't?" Red asked. She shifted a little and the breath on her face grew hotter. She was close. Mulan could barely gauge what the distance was, the darkness was so thick.

"She will."

"How do you know that?" Red challenged.

"True love always wins," Mulan said and it took everything in her not to choke on those last words. Red didn't say anything to this. Their hands were still pressed together, so at least that was a good sign.

Mulan sighed and said, "It was Aurora."

To say the name ruptured every wound she thought had long since scabbed over. It hurt, but it also felt good to have it out in the open air. While the present surged forward, it was also held at bay. Aurora was not here. She would not haunt Mulan anymore and she would say her name, freely and without regrets. It was time she came clean.

"What?" Red sounded confused. Just a moment later, it clicked. "Oh."

Mulan cleared her throat. "We...travelled together, for a time. Without my wanting to, I grew rather...fond of her. I waited too long to tell her how I felt. By time I was about to admit my feelings, she said that she and Prince Phillip were expecting."

Red, surprisingly, gave a light chuckle to this. "'Without my wanting to'? Love isn't about what we want. Less about what we need."

"I know now," said Mulan.

"I had a feeling it was her," Red said. Mulan could practically hear her smirking. "Every time someone mentions her you mope. More than usual, anyway."

"I don't mope," Mulan grumbled.

"You really do," Red giggled. Mulan startled slightly as Red's hand went to brush hair from her face. Her fingers lingered on Mulan's ear before it trailed down the side of her face and away. Mulan's breathing picked up.

"What I'm saying," Mulan said, sombre, "is that that love wasn't meant to be because Princess Aurora and Prince Phillip were put together by fate. What you and Dorothy have is true love. It's not supposed to fail."

This heartache would be for nothing otherwise.

"You and Aurora were never given a chance," Red protested. "How can you know if you never tried?"

"I am not one to rail against fate," Mulan said. Red hummed in acknowledgement as her fingers intertwined with Mulan's.

"What if fate was wrong?" Mulan suddenly got the sense that they were not talking about Aurora anymore.

"Have faith," Mulan said. Desperate. She could barely think of what else to say now.

"Mulan?" Red asked. Her voice was low, rough. "Can I try something?"

"I think that would be unwise," Mulan responded in a rush. She tried to pull her hand away from Red's, but Red held on firmly. She couldn't want this. She didn't want this, not like this.

"I didn't even tell you what it was." Her breath was on her lips. Moist. Mulan gasped.

"Red—" Her breath was taken away when Red's lips captured hers. Mulan gave a muffled cry as she was roughly pinned to the cot by the force of Red's kiss, but she lied back, immobile in her shock. Her hands trembled as she warred with herself. She wanted to kiss back so badly, but she knew that this was Red experimenting. Searching in her grief. The next morning, she would wake up and forget about this. Mulan knew that she wouldn't be able to handle such a transition.

She shoved Red away. Or tried, at least. Red was ridiculously strong during wolfstime and didn't budge easily, but she mercifully pulled away with Mulan's fists curled into the linen of her dress.

"You're not thinking straight," Mulan panted. "Sleep on this. Please."

Red gave a low growl that made Mulan stiffen. In all the time Mulan had known Red, she had never heard Red growl in human form, especially not at her. If it was supposed to scare her, it had the opposite effect.

"Listen to me, Red," Mulan urged. "Don't hurt Dorothy this way."

The sound of Dorothy's name seemed to tame Red. With a sigh she slid off Mulan, but instead of rolling back onto the cot, she rose to her feet. Mulan heard her as she effortlessly padded through the dark and towards the door. She stepped out without a word and Mulan was alone again.

Mulan gave it five minutes before she allowed the tears to fall. She didn't dare make a sound lest Red's hearing could pick it up. It would only make the situation more devastating than it already was.

-

It was only when morning broke through the pall of winter's night that Red returned. She was without a cloak and shivering at Mulan's door. In way of greeting, she offered a self-deprecating smile and said, "Can I come in?"

Mulan should say no, considering what happened last night. She wanted to tell her to leave, to tell her how much it hurt to kiss a woman who was already meant for another. She went all night staring at the ceiling and hating Red for what she'd done.

But she let her in. Because she loved her, too.

They didn't talk about the kiss or what was said. Or that was the plan until, as they ate in silence, Red set down her empty bowl and said, "I'm sorry about last night. I was out of line."

"It's okay." It wasn't, but Mulan didn't want to dwell on it anymore.

"It's not okay," Red insisted. "I was having doubts about marrying Dorothy and I took my frustration out on you. You've been nothing but supportive the whole time. I'd...understand if you didn't want me to come see you after what I did."

"No," Mulan said quickly. Her eyes met Red's and she added, "You're always welcome here, Red. Yesterday was a mistake, but I don't hold it against you."

"You...think it was a mistake?" Red implored. Her eyes were searching again, so Mulan turned her head.

"You already have a true love," Mulan said. "No one should get in the way of that."

It was quiet a couple of minutes after. Then, "It's probably selfish, but I don't regret kissing you. I shouldn't have done it that way last night, but I don't regret doing it. If that makes any sense."

Mulan's hand was beginning to shake. She hid this tick by rising and getting into her usual winter attire.

"You're right," Mulan said. "It is selfish."

Because, as much as she wanted Red, she couldn't afford to live off a dream or a flight of fancy. Whatever it was that Red felt for her was not true love and Mulan could not bear another heartbreak. Not a third time. It would be too much.

"I'm sorry," Red repeated. After a beat, she added, "I'll be leaving soon. I should probably give you your space back."

Mulan didn't contest this because, in a way, she was right. In a bigger way, she was wrong, but Mulan didn't have it in her to ask her to stay longer. Not when she had Dorothy miles away, wondering where she was. Did Dorothy even know that she came here? Mulan didn't want to ask.

So, Red gathered all her things and, with a brief and impersonal hug, she ventured back into the snow-covered woods. Mulan watched her leave. Red looked back and they made eye contact for a second before Red disappeared behind a copse of trees. After another two minutes, Mulan retreated into the shed.

[writingrage]

What Fate Had Wrought (1/4)

A Mulan Rouge (Red Warrior?) Fanfic

(Also Known As: A passionate attempt at remedying Once Upon a Time’s lack of Mulan screen time.)

Summary:  After finding Red's One True Love, Mulan returns to the village of her childhood, heartbroken twice over. However, the threat of a new beast and an army with unknown intentions looms over the village and disrupts the peace that Mulan tries to cultivate. Red visiting really doesn't help matters either.

Set a few months after the events of 5x18 "Ruby Slippers"

AO3 / Fanfiction.net

CHAPTER 1 - Selfishness

The first thing Hua Mulan noticed upon riding into Guifei village on Coursing River was the scent of fear that lingered in the air. Such a thing was palpable, especially in such a small settlement like Guifei, which was only a hundred strong during a fruitful season. Its denizens shuffled hurriedly through their daily tasks, kept idle chatter to a minimum, or simply didn't leave their homes. It was only when Mulan rode into its usually bustling market square that she caught sight of people, but their presence was light and fleeting. Whatever had these people so worried definitely warranted Mulan's presence.

Mulan did not venture into Guifei often. While she swore to protect its people since leaving the emperor's army after the war, she refused to mingle with the people, if only to give herself room to breathe. She didn't do well in crowds. Her previous engagements in Misthaven only strengthened these reclusive traits.

However, that morning, Mulan had been visited by Ho Jian, one of the boys from the village, bearing a message from the Chief Yao Peizhi of Guifei. They had requested an audience with her concerning urgent matters. Before Mulan could further interrogate her visitor, the boy had run back to the village, his small braid swinging with the frantic beat of his sandaled feet. Mulan could see now that his actions were not so uncommon.

It was only when Mulan reached the Chief Yao's chamber and was greeted by him that she was finally given an explanation.

"Another Yaoguai?" Mulan asked with a frown.

"Unfortunately, yes," said Chief Yao. The sweltering heat of the summer morning had him perspiring excessively, leading him to dab at his pudgy, pink face every couple of minutes. "There have been multiple sightings of it outside our village."

Which was impossible, given the fact that the last time the Yaoguai disrupted the village it was really a bewitched prince. As far as Mulan was concerned, Prince Phillip and Princess Aurora were happily married and expecting.

As a way of distracting herself from this train of thought, Mulan probed. "What did this beast look like? Did your sources give descriptions?"

"They claim that it is a black creature with glowing blue eyes and big teeth," replied the chief. He dabbed at his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief and added, "It hasn't hurt anyone yet, but it's causing quite the stir. Trade simply cannot go on with a beast patrolling the walls and scaring off merchants."

Trade was of utmost importance to Guifei, what with it being near the main artery of the trade route that slithered from the empire to the Enchanted Forest. Without the help of travelling merchants both from the mainland and from Misthaven, Guifei's economy would surely stagnate and collapse. The last time Prince Phillip was here, trade was put on hold for several weeks. The shortage of certain goods was only balanced out by the Yaoguai's penchant for shaving off a good portion of the population. It was a good time for no one except the foreign merchants who were trapped in the village and saw the tragedy as a good time to inflate their prices.

"I'm guessing you want me to investigate?" asked Mulan.

"You slayed the last Yaoguai, did you not?" asked Chief Yao. His thick white eyebrows rose on a heavily wrinkled forehead in bemusement. "I regret to ask for your assistance again, but the situation is proving dire."

"It was not by my hand," Mulan corrected, "but I'll do my best to find this beast."

This seemed to satisfy the Chief Yao who thanked her before giving her the names of the sources so that she could question them herself. More than anything, Mulan wished to get started on this new mission. Since she had parted ways with Red and Dorothy and returned to Guifei, she had made a point of keeping busy with the most mundane of tasks. Guifei was a very profitable village and made enough surplus to provide Mulan with required necessities such as rice, millet, wheat, and even eggs and radish if they were feeling especially generous. This left Mulan to do nothing more than cook, eat, and sleep, with disconcerting gaps of free time in between. She took to whittling wood into various images to pass the time; it was brain-deadening work, something that she felt she needed lest she relapsed into the misery that came with the peace of self-imposed isolation.

This new task would finally give Mulan something new to do. Outside of the Yaoguai issue a few years ago, Guifei was a relatively safe settlement. After all, the presence of a war-rugged soldier made it so.

For most of the day, Mulan started tracking this great black beast. Not surprisingly, it was much harder to find than the original Yaoguai which was several feet tall and often left ashes and open flames in its wake. However, Mulan could at least work on the accounts of the villagers; the Yaoguai made a point of eating or severely maiming his witnesses, so Mulan tackled the previous objective a little more blindly.

With this newest mark, Mulan relied on information given to her: the beast only dwelled at night and it made a point of circling the village border, but never entering. It was only a matter of time, the fearful witnesses said, before it would attack, as most wild predators do.

Mulan promised to find the beast.

Going on their accounts, she found that, indeed, there were several breaks in the natural pattern all around the village. Kicked up pebbles, broken twigs, jagged claw marks on the trees. The most striking clue was the absolute silence. In the thick of Guifei's greenery, one was awash in the sounds of chittering birds, skittering woodland creatures, and mournful shrieks of cicadas. When Mulan explored the forest, she could hear nothing but the whisper of windblown leaves and the scratching of branches overhead. In the far distance, there was the cry of a lone raven, but nothing more. Clearly, this was an apex predator to have scared off most of the wildlife away from their habitats.

When night fell, Mulan stood by the gates of Guifei and waited. She had her sword by her hip and her bow strapped to her back. She wore her chainmail helmet and the black reinforced leather armor, shoulders squared and eyes trained on a point in the distance as she listened for any potential disturbances in the quiet that often befell the night.

She waited for two hours. By this time, the people of Guifei had turned in for the night. This thought made Mulan breathe easy; now, it was just her and the beast.

Mulan was seated now with a block of wood and a dagger in hand. She attempted to carve out a semblance of a bird in flight, though it came out sort of clunky looking. She cut with the grain, just as her father would tell her shortly before she went off to war at the age of fourteen. Regardless of the more effortless glide of knife over wood, her carving did not come out quite like she pictured in her head.

This was when Coursing River reared up on his hind legs and whinnied in agitation. Mulan startled and, within a breath, she was on her feet with her hand tensed on the handle of her half-unsheathed jian sword. Her gaze wandered before it fell on a pair of blue eyes gleaming from among the clusters of trees just a few metres away.

Coursing River snorted and, though he shook violently and shuffled so much that he kicked up dirt, he did not flee. As expected of a war horse.

There was a showdown. Mulan stood stiffly, not even daring to breathe too harshly lest she provoked the beast. Minutes passed before the thing approached on quiet feet. Shards of moonlight suggested a hulking figure with black fur. It was majestic in its beastly appearance.

Mulan took in a deep breath when the animal finally moved into the open. She was struck by the sheer size of it as well as the size of its bared fangs. It was clearly on the defensive. If it decided to attack, Mulan would not stand a chance against it.

Which was why she prayed that her next actions wouldn't get her killed.

"Red?" she said. "Is that you?"

The beast's demeanour very suddenly shifted; it went from snarling at her to closing its mouth and straightening its posture. Its eyes were searching. Mulan stayed still. Finally, the beast hesitantly put a paw forward, as if in suggestion. Mulan nodded slowly and the beast took one step forward. Then another. Mulan watched until it was just a few feet away. It sniffed the ground at Mulan's feet. Mulan knew this to be judgment and she waited patiently for the beast to come up with a verdict. Coursing River whinnied louder, spooked now by the beast's proximity, but Mulan shushed him as she held on to his reins. Surprisingly, the beast barely faltered at Coursing River's antics as it continued to assess Mulan.

Apparently, Mulan passed. The animal shifted into a sitting position and docilely bowed its head. That was when it underwent a change. It was swift and had Mulan blinked she would have missed it, but she watched as the animal went from being a massive, black creature to a beautiful young woman.

Mulan smiled. "You certainly make an entrance."

"Did you expect any less?" asked Red with a radiant smile of her own. Apologetically, she smiled at Coursing River and said, "Sorry for scaring your horse."

"He doesn't mind," said Mulan.

Red rose to her feet and closed the distance between her and Mulan with a hug. Mulan stiffened in Red's hold, but Red pulled away with that same smile. If she noticed Mulan's hesitance, she didn't speak of it. Instead, she fingered the mesh of Mulan's helmet and laughed, "Nice helmet."

"It protects against enemy fire," Mulan huffed. "Every imperial soldier has one."

"Yeah," Red muttered as she moved to remove the helmet, "but then no one gets to see your pretty face."

Mulan's throat constricted at this description and so choked on whatever she was going to say next. She was thus powerless when Red slid off her helmet to observe it with clinical curiosity. It only lasted a moment because she handed it back to Mulan who grabbed it from her without hesitation.

"So. This is Guifei?" said Red as she looked past Mulan.

It took a moment for Mulan to realize that Red was speaking of the settlement behind the gates. She said, "Yes. I'm currently protecting this village from you, as a matter of fact."

At this, Red's pink cheeks darkened to a shade just one off from her cloak. Speaking of which, its absence was quite glaring at the moment.

"Where is your cloak, Red?" asked Mulan.

Sheepishly, Red said, "In the woods. I know I should keep it on, but I was just going on a run. I swear I'll put it back on, if it makes you feel better."

"It would," Mulan said with a raised eyebrow. "It would probably scare the villagers less, too."

"Sorry about that," Red muttered as she ventured back into the copse of trees. Mulan mounted Coursing River and followed. "It's just...my senses are at their peak when I'm the wolf. I figured that I could smell you out in wolf form. I knew you were in the village, but when I got here last night I couldn't quite catch your scent. I circled the village hoping I'd get it, but then I heard people yelling, so I ran off."

"You really gave people here a scare," Mulan chastised, but her heart wasn't in it. She was too distracted by the fact that Red actually sought her out at all.

Mulan was always reclusive and made sure to set herself apart from others. It came with masquerading as a man for twelve years in the army, she supposed, but she knew that, even before that, she much preferred isolation. Such an attitude did not attract many friends.

Princess Aurora was closest to being Mulan's friend, but Mulan had since cut off all communication with her. She made it impossible for Aurora to find her. Not that she would, what with Prince Phillip and her newborn taking up her attention.

Mulan had only known Red for a month or so and yet she came all the way here to find her. It left Mulan with an extraordinary feeling.

"Maybe I like scaring people," Red said with a smirk. At Mulan's disapproving frown, she laughed and added, "Take it easy. It was a joke."

"I suggest working on your sense of humour," Mulan groused.

It took a couple more minutes, but Red finally got her cloak from between a pair of trees with branches that interlocked overhead. While Mulan wouldn't say it out loud, it made her breathe easier to see Red in her trademark cloak again. She motioned for Red to follow suit and said, "Get on. I'll show you where I live."

"You don't live in the village?" Red asked as she easily hopped on and sidled in comfortably behind Mulan.

"No," Mulan replied. She squeezed Coursing River's haunches with her legs and he went at a steady pace through the trees. As an afterthought, Mulan said, "I prefer to live alone."

Red hummed as if she understood, though they both knew she didn't. After all, Red had traversed realms just to find others of her kind. Mulan was more likely to traverse realms to get away from other people.

The hut was a mile away, so it took about ten minutes arrive at the quaint wooden house that stood in a small clearing. This had originally belonged to a general from years ago who sometimes escaped to the countryside to ponder the verses of Xu Wei. After his death, the hut was left to rot until Mulan was given permission to take it when she first arrived to Guifei. She had since refurbished it, but it still held a deathly aura, especially in the night when it was surrounded by dark arcades of trees that blocked almost all moonlight from filtering through.

"So, this is where you live?" Red asked as Mulan tethered Coursing River to a post outside the shed. She opened the door and walked inside.

"Yes," Mulan said as she walked over to the end of the hut in two steps where she bowed down and lit the candles there so that the fire would stave off the night cold and shed light on the small hut. Mulan never much cared to tend to the hut and now that she had a visitor, she was suddenly mindful of the messy cot in the corner, the pile of books cluttered next to it, the squat table that held a stack of papers, a pot of ink, and her many wood carvings. They held an air of malice in the dim, flickering candle light.

"I wasn't expecting visitors," Mulan added with a note of apology. Red, however, didn't seem to mind as she wandered inside. Mulan closed the door behind them.

"It's so...you," Red said as her eyes wandered over to the wood carvings, something that Mulan had silently hoped she wouldn't notice so soon. She bent over and inspected them closer before she said, "I didn't know you carved!"

"As a pastime," Mulan replied as she stood by, paralyzed in her helplessness.

"They're beautiful," Red mumbled as she delicately picked up the one depicting a wolf. "I don't think I ever told you this, but I used to make jewellery."

"Did you?" Mulan asked as she finally moved closer.

"Not here," Red added hastily. Her thumb glided over the snout of the wolf with something akin to reverence. "In the other realm. I stopped after the first curse broke."

"Why is that?" Mulan asked. Red's eyes dulled slightly and her smile faded. Thinking she said the wrong thing, Mulan opened her mouth to tell Red that she didn't have to answer when Red spoke.

"Do you...do you remember when I told you that I ate my only boyfriend?" Red asked. She set down the wolf statuette between the small figurine of a long-haired woman in a shawl and that of a hooded woman painted red. She turned to face Mulan who could only nod dumbly. "Well, the first curse erased all memories of that past. So, when the curse broke and I got those memories back, I had to...relive that trauma. Sort of. I used to make all these wolf trinkets—necklaces, rings, key chains— and I used to see it as this thing I liked doing, but when I remembered where all that came from, I just couldn't continue with it."

"I'm sorry," Mulan said. She could think of nothing else to say to that and, really, what was there to say? Thankfully, this seemed to be enough for Red who cracked a strained smile and shook her head.

"It's fine," Red said though, to Mulan, it didn't sound all that fine. "Anyway, your statues just reminded me of that. Making jewellery, I mean, not eating my ex."

"It's never too late to return to it," Mulan said.

"It wouldn't be the same," Red said with a sad smile. "Trust me."

After this, they tumbled into a thick silence. Mulan quickly busied herself with putting away her weapons as Red continued to scan her environment in quiet consideration. It was a couple of minutes before Mulan broke the silence.

"I'm sorry I'm not the best host," Mulan sighed. "I'm still trying to get used to having a visitor. I haven't had company in over a decade."

"What?" Red all but yelled as her eyes widened comically. "Why?"

"I keep to myself," Mulan said. She cleared her throat and decided to change the topic. "How are you and Dorothy?"

Red seemed to notice the deflection judging by the twitch in her brow, but her expression softened a bit at the mention of her partner.

"We're good," she sighed wistfully as she plopped down on the bench where her cloak was folded. "It's still new to us. We've never really had a true love before."

"It must be nice," Mulan said. She tried to sound encouraging, but to her own ears she sounded bitter. Red gave her a strange look and Mulan busied herself with taking off her armour so that Red wouldn't get the chance to analyze her.

Apparently, Red quickly gave up, because she continued, "I never really understood true love until I met Dorothy. I mean, I saw Snow and Charming together, but you don't know true love until you've experienced it. It really is magic."

Mulan didn't dare reply to that, instead focusing on removing her cape and carelessly tossing it to the ground. More silence until Red added, "Her dog annoys the hell out of me though."

This, Mulan felt safe to respond to with a sympathetic laugh.

"It's like having a kid, only it never grows up," Red said with a small pout.

"We all make sacrifices for the ones we love," Mulan said. The last of her armour was off and she quickly slipped on a pair of trousers before she fumbled to put on a knee-length wool tunic.

"I know," Red replied. When Mulan turned to look at her, she found herself subject to scrutiny as Red openly looked at her. A beat passed, then Red said, "It's all worth it."

Mulan turned away.

"It is," she agreed. She hoped she didn't sound as hollow as she felt.

Dressed in her common clothes, Mulan went out back where she prepared a basic meal of stewed rice with boiled radish over an open fire. When presented with the food, Red balked at it for a split second before she hesitantly thanked Mulan. Only a moment later did she spit the food out and claim that she wasn't that hungry anyway. Mulan couldn't blame her; the food was rather plain and uninspired, but these were foods that she lived on while she was in the emperor's army. Food was a luxury not always easy to come by.

They retired for the night in Mulan's cot. It was crowded, seeing as the cot was really made for one person and not two, but they made do with it. Red was good about sharing the space and seemed comfortable to be in such close proximity with another person in slumber. On the other hand, it took Mulan several hours of tossing and turning to finally fall asleep. It was her bad luck that Red was an early-morning riser and didn't like for anyone to sleep in.

"Where do you wash?" Red asked as she stretched, catlike, in the centre of the hut. Mulan watched her groggily, her eyes slightly unfocused with sleep. The golden sunlight burst through the trees and flooded the hut and everything appeared bright and naked and skinned raw. The statues on the other end of the shed stood stoically among the dancing dust. Red's face glowed. The curves of her body highlighted by slivers of light. Mulan's desires and regrets, laid bare and festering like meat under an open sun.

Mulan clenched her jaw and mumbled something about a lake west of here and for Red to use one of the little balls of soap she had in a jar by the candles. Red was gone after a few minutes of shuffling and Mulan soon returned to sleep.

Mulan eventually woke up to see Red muttering to herself as she untangled her wet hair. She was already dressed in her tunic, vest, and crimson skirt. Her cloak laid on the bench, neatly folded.

"Rise and shine!" Red said gleefully when Mulan rose to her feet. "Sleep well?"

"Despite your snoring keeping me up half the night, I slept wonderfully," Mulan jested. Red scowled and threw one of her gloves at Mulan's face in retaliation.

After Mulan had bathed and put on her armour once more, she told Red that she was to report back to the chief in Guifei about the beast.

"What are you gonna tell him?" asked Red as they rode on Coursing River towards to the village. Despite Mulan telling her to stay behind, she insisted on joining Mulan, if only so that she could see Guifei without looking like an "awkward tourist".

"I'll tell him that I killed the beast," Mulan said. At Red's silence, she added, "It's safest to tell him that. I don't want the villagers to take it upon themselves to slay something that doesn't even exist and get themselves in trouble."

"Yeah," Red sighed. "I'm really sorry, Mulan."

"It's not your fault," Mulan said, though her voice betrayed the mild frustration bubbling in her chest. She was not so frustrated with Red as much as she was inconvenienced by the situation. Whatever the case, she was happy to wrap everything up and return to her hut, only to be bothered again by some other pale-faced courier boy in the next several months.

So, it came as quite the surprise to see several unfamiliar men and horses at the gate entrance to Guifei. It was not uncommon for Guifei to receive its share of merchants and bureaucrats, but these men certainly did not look like the commercial or political type. They wore thick, leather armour and carried broad dao blades on their hips. Eyes behind iron helmets gravitated to Mulan and Red as the two approached.

"What brings you here?" asked one man on horseback.

"I should ask you the same," Mulan said, her tone clipped.

"We are the men of General Zhang Jianhong," he replied as he puffed his chest. "I am An Jie. We heard that a demon was seen here last night."

"It's been slain," Mulan said as she rode on. Over her shoulder, she added, "Be sure to spread the word that the imperial soldier posted here killed it last night."

"What was that about?" asked Red when they were out of earshot.

"Fools with numbers to bolster their confidence," Mulan said with no shortage of resentment. "Most likely bandits trying to pass off as bounty hunters. I shouldn't have let you come out here with me."

"You do remember who I am, right?" Red replied with a tinkle of laughter. "I'm not exactly harmless."

"Neither are they," Mulan relented. "Keep sharp."

When they arrived at the chief's place, Mulan saw that a black horse with white mane was already tethered to the building. When Mulan and Red approached, it whinnied in agitation and shuffled as far away from them as it could. Mulan made sure to stop on the opposite end of the building and tie Coursing River to a nearby post before turning to Red.

"Stay out here," Mulan said. "If anything looks wrong or out of place, I want you to call for me."

"God, you sound like Granny," Red said, though it was more gentle than annoyed. "Don't worry. I'll be fine."

Mulan nodded curtly before she entered the building with her hand poised over her sword. Inside was the Chief Yao, back erect and expression strained to remain polite. Across from them was a man dressed in thick leather armour. An iron helmet similar to those of the men posted outside sat by his side. He and Chief Yao turned to watch Mulan walk in.

"Pardon my intrusion," Mulan said with a formal bow. "I come bearing news on the beast."

"Do you?" asked Chief Yao as he dabbed at his forehead. He looked especially sweaty this morning, despite the chill in the air. "What a coincidence. This young man came straight here as soon as he heard of the beast. Mulan, this is General Zhang Jianhong. General Zhang, this is General Hua Mulan."

"It is an honour to meet the renowned General Hua," Zhang said as he deeply nodded in acknowledgement. He was indeed young; he looked no older than thirty years old. His long, angular face was pulled into a smile that did not reach his eyes. Mulan took note of the silk that held his hair in a top knot; it was the same material which underlined his black cape. He spoke again, breaking Mulan's train of thought. "Sorry to impose, but I was sent by Commander Song Gen to oversee the area surrounding my garrison. Considering there was talk of another Yaoguai, I came straight here."

Song Gen. Mulan knew that name. She filed that away for later.

"Where is your garrison?" asked Mulan.

"Quixen Prefecture," he replied. "Just a mere twenty miles from this humble village."

"As you are so close by, I'm sure you heard that there was an imperial soldier here?" Mulan continued without a beat. "One that has already slayed a Yaoguai before?"

"Yet another legend to add to your name, yes," General Zhang said with a polite smile. "I have heard it all. I was just passing through to see if you needed any help."

General Hua Mulan narrowed her eyes a touch, but she quickly smoothed her brow.

"I assure you, I have it handled," Mulan said coldly before turning to Chief Yao who was shifting uncomfortably. "The beast is dead. I killed it last night."

"Oh, that is great news," said Chief Yao. "We did not expect any less from you, Mulan!"

"Ah, yes, good news," echoed Zhang, but there was an unnatural pull to his stiff smile. "You slayed it on your own?"

"Yes," Mulan said curtly. "Why do you ask?"

"I was wondering if you'd brought its fur back," said Zhang. "Most hunters bring back proof of their hunt. I thought, especially concerning such a beast, this situation would be no different."

"I am inclined to believe Mulan," said Chief Yao hastily. He seemed to sense the beginnings of a conflict and was smart enough to want to diffuse it before it boiled over. "She is a veteran of war. If she says that it is dead, then it is dead."

"I suppose that did come off as accusatory," said Zhang. "My apologies."

"Why are you really here, General Zhang?" Mulan asked, to Chief Yao's horror. She hardly cared if she sounded rude anymore because Zhang had this look on his face that grated on all her nerves.

"So direct," General Zhang chastised, though he didn't sound nearly insulted enough. "What makes you think I have ulterior motives? I came here to investigate a potential threat. One that you say you deposed of. This was all an unfortunate misunderstanding."

"No merchant could have travelled twenty miles and gotten the news to you for you to arrive here with just that in mind," Mulan pointed out. "In fact, Chief Yao, is it true that the only travelling merchant to come here was bearing south, not north?"

"The—er—the merchants don't usually tell me such things, but that is what I heard, yes," Chief Yao stumbled, his face growing red as sweat collected on his neck and chest. He aggressively dabbed at the building moisture.

"From what I remember," Mulan went on, "Quixen is up north. Now why are you here?"

General Zhang's smile faltered for the first time since Mulan walked in on his meeting with the chief. He scanned Mulan just as Mulan tried to dissect him and his motives until he said, slowly, "This sort of behaviour is very unladylike."

Mulan did not dignify that with a response. General Zhang continued.

"Commander Song has asked that I protect this village," said General Zhang. "Hence why I brought my men with me. I was going to privately discuss the plans with the chief until you interrupted."

"I'm already posted here," Mulan protested.

"You are one soldier in the face of a brewing threat," said Zhang. He turned to the chief and continued with, "Aside from the beast, there have been bandits running wildly in the woods. Many of my men have gone missing while out on patrol. I would be loath to have innocent villagers be preyed upon by uncivilized thieves."

"That does sound worrisome," mumbled Chief Yao.

"Commander Song is invested in the safety of all those who fall under his jurisdiction," Zhang continued. "As he is in charge of the western half of the mainland, you automatically fall under his protection. I would be more than happy to leave my soldiers in your hands."

"Just like that?" Mulan asked. "Free of charge?"

"Commander Song is wealthy enough and powerful enough to cover such costs," said Zhang, his eyes never leaving the chief. "What do you say?"

"Bandits are very much a problem," said Chief Yao as he brought his handkerchief to his collarbone to pat away the sweat.

"I can handle that alone, as I always have," Mulan said, but she knew the moment the words left her lips that they were hollow of promise. Zhang cast her a sidelong glance with a quirk of his lip before focusing back on the chief.

"I am more than aware of your abilities, Mulan," said Chief Yao. "But I also know that one soldier is never enough. If General Zhang is truly offering his services for free..."

"Completely free," insisted Zhang.

"I think this is the best decision for Guifei," said Chief Yao as he looked over at Mulan with a determined gaze. Mulan opened her mouth to protest, but Zhang beat her to the punch.

"It's good that you see reason," said Zhang as he began to rise. "I will have an outpost established beyond the gate. Don't worry, Chief Yao; your people will be in the most capable of hands. With Mulan working alongside them, I imagine you will be thoroughly protected."

"I would like to think so," Chief Yao muttered. General Zhang nodded firmly before picking up his helmet and bowing to the chief.

"I must take my leave and return to my garrison," said General Zhang as he straightened up. "If any problems arise, don't hesitate to notify me however you can."

"Yes, of course," said Chief Yao. Mulan watched as General Zhang swept out of the chamber and towards his anchored horse. His eyes locked on Mulan's for a brief moment before he mounted his stead and headed off at a steady trot. Mulan could feel Red's stare boring into her, but she was too busy watching Zhang leave.

Unfortunately, he rode too close to Red and his own stead reared its front legs and whinnied so loudly that all activity in the village square was halted in favour of watching Zhang and his belligerent horse. Red, to her credit, barely reacted as Zhang swore and tried to calm his horse. It eventually relaxed its posture, but it shook in distress even as it carried Zhang out of the village square. He cast Red a look that gave Mulan a thrill of childish glee. It was made all the better when Red turned to look at Mulan and shrugged with a close-mouthed smile that spelled innocence. Mulan almost felt proud of her for having such a deceitful front.

After Zhang's departure, the meeting with the chief was short. Mulan tried to convince the chief of General Zhang's ulterior motives, but the chief refused to pursue the issue.

"We need more than one woman to defend us, Mulan," he said. And, though it pained her to hear such a thing, she knew that this did not come from a place of malice, but one of fear and desperation. The Yaoguai had done nothing but kill off men, women, and children. It devoured the chief's wife and he had never quite been the same again since her funeral. Zhang had promised protection and what kind of chief would he be if he denied such a thing?

So, Mulan distanced herself and consented to the new standard. A soldier knew when to fight and when to desist. This was a good example of the latter.

That didn't stop her from complaining to Red about it on their way out the village, however.

"I didn't know one run could cause so much excitement," said Red. She sounded delighted which, really, wasn't much of a surprise to Mulan at all.

"Like I said, this has little to do with you," Mulan said. "General Zhang and his men are up to something. I'm going to keep an eye on them and see if they behave."

"I hope they do," Red said. "Though I still can't help but feel like I'm the cause of all this."

"You aren't," Mulan reassured. She hesitated before, against her better judgment, she took one hand off the reins and reached back for Red's knee and squeezed. It was a strange and awkward gesture, but it was one that came to her naturally. Thankfully, Red took her hand and held it firmly.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," said Red. "If this Commander Song guy is such a big shot, what would he want with a village? Maybe he really just wants to look after this place."

There was a pensive pause after that. Perhaps Red noticed that Mulan was tense because she began to draw circles in the palm of Mulan's gloved hand and said, "And besides. They have you, right? They're in pretty good hands."

"I suppose," Mulan said, her mind focused on the path being marked on her palm and little else. She sounded terser than she intended, so she added, gently, "I just don't want to see these people hurt."

"Can I ask you something personal?" Red asked.

"Okay." Mulan didn't feel okay about this at all, as a matter of fact, but she didn't want to appear contrary.

"Why are you so invested in Guifei?" Red probed. "You never have anyone over. You don't even live with the people there. You spent years in the Enchanted Forest and only came back after I broke the curse on Dorothy. It just seems odd that you'd want to protect them now all of a sudden."

Mulan's grip tightened on the reins of her horse as she pondered Red's question. To be honest, Mulan really wasn't all that interested in Guifei. She was here for the same reasons she joined the Merry Men and for the same reasons she joined Red on her quest to find other werewolves. For the same reasons why she left it all behind to return to isolation in the forest.

"My father asked that I stay and guard this place," Mulan said instead. "He lived and died in Guifei. I was only fourteen when I had to leave to fight the war. By time I returned, I was...different. While the village had stayed the same."

Mulan avoided talking about how the nightmares woke her up in bouts of cold sweat. How she always, always slept with a knife under her pillow. How she came back to Guifei and could not recognize anyone anymore. How she heard that her father died in his sleep while she was serving.

"Going to Misthaven was a foolish pursuit," Mulan added. She felt Red's hand slip away from hers, but she pressed on. "I was trying to run away from my promise and find what I thought I lacked after the war was over. I know now that it's best if I stay here and fulfill my duty."

"Mulan," Red said, her voice full of reproach. Mulan could practically feel the waves of disapproval against the back of her head. "Without you, Merida would have never become queen of Dun Broch. If you didn't see that I was human while I was a wolf, I would have still been the pet of that evil witch. I would have never found Dorothy. You coming to Misthaven was the best thing that happened for us. I—"

Red stopped herself there and, no matter how much Mulan waited, she would not finish the sentence.

"What?" Mulan asked when she finally ran out of patience.

"Never mind," Red muttered.

"I didn't mean for it to come out that way," Mulan apologized. "I don't regret meeting you or Merida. I don't even regret having a broken heart. It was all a learning experience."

Red was quiet for a few moments. Then, "You never told me who broke your heart."

Mulan laughed, though it was devoid of humour. "No matter how much you ask, I would still prefer not to tell you. I haven't told them, so I won't tell anyone else."

"I'll wear you down eventually," Red said. "Just so I could help you move on. As far as I'm concerned, you're still wallowing in self-pity."

"I do not—do you want to walk back to the shed?" Mulan snapped playfully. Red laughed and Mulan found it to be contagious because she soon joined her. And, just like that, the tension was broken, even as they rode in silence.

That night, Mulan cooked again, but this time Red offered to help with preparing the food. It still came out rather plain, but there were more components to the dish, thanks to some of Red's suggestions. Red did mention that she used to work at a diner and deemed herself a food expert, at least in comparison to Mulan.

Red told her that she would be leaving the next morning.

"Dorothy is probably waiting on me to get back," Red said. Mulan nodded her understanding. Red went on, "It's weird, but it...hurts to be away from her for too long. I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't apologize," Mulan said as she laid a hand atop Red's. She squeezed it lightly, with conviction that she lacked. Mulan looked Red in the eye and said, "You should be with the one you love, Red. Go back to her. I'll be fine."

A smile graced Red's full lips and, though it was small, Mulan saw heaven and earth within it. Despite herself, Mulan smiled back and dropped Red's hand before she quietly returned to her bowl of rice, pan-fried radishes, and boiled egg. It was the best meal she'd had in years.

[writingrage]

red warrior in 5x18

[writingrage]

ONE WEEK LEFT WOOHOO

[writingrage]

Back in Storybrooke 

[writingrage]

On Red Warrior / Ruby Slippers

You know, I was prepared to be happy that there’s more lgbtq+ rep on television with the introduction of Ruby Slippers. I mean, considering how wlw have been treated by showrunners/writers so far in the medieval ages this year… I should be happy that there are two living, breathing queer ladies on television who find love without some stray bullet getting in between them… but… you know what? I’m not here for white feminism.

Mulan’s character/story was been so robbed in this episode… Like I know, not every lesbian has to fall for lesbian next to them, so I’m not particularly upset that Red Warrior didn’t happen… I’m not upset that Mulan “didn’t get the girl” or “got friendzoned”. I’m upset that Mulan has yet again been nothing more than just an accessory to someone else’s happy ending.

They had the perfect set up and opportunity for greater representation and instead chose to throw together a rushed story with a character we barely know or care about… for what? To “shock” fans with a twist? Jokes on us, POC character sidelined again!

To be honest, why did they even need Mulan to be part of this arch if not to be Red’s sidekick/support? They could’ve had basically any other character follow Red around. And to watch Red/Kansas’ story unfold exactly how Mulan would’ve wanted her love story to? It’s like… “ hey look, queer dreams do come true… but if you’re a poc, you’re shit out of luck buddy! Stand back and watch as your storyline is diminished to being someone’s supportive sidekick! Again!”

Hm… this feels oddly familiar for some reason…

You know, when I first found out about Mulan in OUAT, I was ecstatic! As a queer Asian woman, Mulan was like this beacon of hope for me. I walk into Disney stores all the time and see rows upon rows of Disney princess merchandise without finding a single Mulan item. So having Mulan was… pretty cool. I mean, it’s rare enough that we would even have an Asian woman on television who’s not fetishized, or a computer-hacking-kung-fu-queen-of-all-tropes. And when Mulan turned out to be canonically bi!? Shit, I was doing backflips! But as I followed her story I was reminded yet again, that like every other Asian character written by a white dude: she was just an accessory. She doesn’t get to have happy ever after…she’s just here to be the token poc, the support, the handy sidekick. 

It’s. Not. Enough. It’s not enough for poc fans to settle for a sideline characters with a hollow storylines as our representation time and time again. I/We shouldn’t have to be deprived of a happy ending. Just imagine how amazing this opportunity could have been for all the little queer children of color to watch this and see “oh hey, look, I can be happy too!” Yes, we already know that OUAT has never been particularly good on racial diversity/poc treatment, but they had every opportunity to change that with their first LGBTQ+ couple… ? Mulan was already a canonically queer character, and she and Red are already well developed characters, with some level of established interaction… (or at least some room to assume they could have had some bts growth between seasons, more so than Kansas at least)… Which… leads me my other point…

Yes, I am upset that the first lgbtq+ pairing was a rushed job involving two minor characters. Anyone else who’s annoyed/bothered by this should have every right to be as well! Eddy said that they wanted to “tell a story of love no different than Snow and Charming, or Hook and Emma” (x). But that’s not how Ruby Slippers happened at all? Snow, Charming, Emma, and Hook all have developed backstories, they’re established main characters. 

I’m sorry, but throwing a minor character (who literally came back to the show just to do this arc) with a character who we barely know is not enough. Using some bs excuse like “we didn’t want to make it special because love is love” is a cop out. It’s just weak. At least Red/Mulan would’ve made a bit more sense considering they’ve also both been somewhat developed. And I yes I get it, other couples on the show have also had rushed storylines, but when you have dozens of other white, heterosexual couples as main and/or side ships, you can afford a bit of brevity. This…? This was like… trying to throw us a bone… made out of paper… and then the paper bone drifted off into the wind. And I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.

TL;DR: They had the perfect opportunity to create a story that would’ve been something great for representing queer women of color. Instead, they chose to sideline one of their very few poc characters (again) in favor of yet another white couple’s happiness, which made much less sense than what would’ve been a more organic story with Red/Mulan. 

LGBTQ+ Fans deserve better. Mulan deserves so much better; she deserves a happy ever after… and we do too.

[writingrage]

This is what happened in that episode right

[writingrage]

the lgbt token couple wasn’t even with mulan honestly what the fuck does that show just not believe in happy people of color lmao

[writingrage]

On Ruby Slippers

I fucked up.

I can blame Adam and Eddy all I want, but I know this is on me, too. It’s on me that I was stupid enough to believe that Once Upon a Time could maybe, possibly, give us a decent queer couple. One that was not only queer, but interracial. I really thought this could happen on this show.

I’d like to apologise to myself. I’d like to apologise to all the Red Warrior fans out there who are feeling the same level of disappointment as I am tonight. I hope that we will finally learn our lesson and stop giving this show any views. It doesn’t deserve any more seasons. It doesn’t deserve queer viewers, especially when it seems to go out of its way to manipulate us.

Indeed, we got representation, but not at all what any of us were looking for. Instead of having Mulan and Ruby grow closer, having already been established in a common cause to find themselves, we were given Ruby and Dorothy making doe eyes at each other within 5 minutes of meeting each other.

We are hardly given any real explanation for this. Ruby scared away Dorothy’s dog and suddenly felt the powerful need to just follow Dorothy EVERYWHERE since. And, of course, our canonically bisexual Mulan is caught up in a mess that is not even remotely hers.

Can we talk about just how horribly this show treats Mulan real quick? We have Mulan, away from her homeland, basically playing second player to E V E R Y (white) character she’s been paired with. Belle. Prince Phillip. Aurora. Merida. Ruby. She was never given an episode of her own. She was always the sidekick and that means she, and everything that comes with her, is secondary.

To put her with Ruby only to have Ruby run after Dorothy is just plain insulting. And, no, I’m not part of the “friendzone” crowd. Mulan and Ruby already had something of a foundation going into this episode. Mulan saved Ruby from the witch’s curse. They went on a quest to find Ruby’s pack (which is completely forgotten as soon as Ruby sees Dorothy). They had okay chemistry that could have been developed. What we got, instead, was Mulan giving Ruby vague advice about a vague love interest from the vague past. Gotta love how they still refuse to have Mulan name names or even offer a fucking pronoun. Very progressive!!

So, with this, I say goodbye and good riddance to this show. I said I was done before, but I sincerely mean it now. Which means that this blog is probably going to go to sleep for a good long while. I hate to cut things off when I just started getting more attention (20 followers may not seem like a lot, but it is to me, especially when you consider the fact that all I do is rant). I’d like to thank you all for putting up with all my yelling and frothing. I didn’t get to know any of you very well, but thanks for making this whole thing worth while. It means a lot.

Not to say that I’ll drop off the face of the earth. If I come across any great Red Warrior stuff. I’ll definitely share it here. But I’ve realised that chasing after things like this and then getting mad and hurt when I don’t get what I want after so long...it’s unhealthy. No more OUAT for me. No amount of Mulan or Ruby or queerbaiting will bring me back. I refuse to be tricked again. I hope that this show tanks so badly that a hundred years from now people will compare every bad show they come across to this one. I hope that Adam and Eddy find their heads and realise just how shitty it feels to be queerbaited. Or step on a lego. Whatever comes first. And I hope that this trend of bad queer representation (casually side eyes The 100) doesn’t continue. We deserve better.

Now have this gif of my queer self finally releasing myself of the chains of queerbait fuckery

[writingrage]

Queer baiting is setting up a queer Mulan storyline and not following up with it or confirming it in any specific way 

Queer baiting is telling us we finally get a queer couple on Once and making it with a guest star who has no future on this show

Queer baiting is throwing in a little dash of gay to make your audience think that they have a chance at representation when in reality you don’t give a fuck

[writingrage]

Me after Ruby Slippers:

“Booom. Out” Cit. ADC

See you, Once Upon a Time, see you in another life with better representation.

[writingrage]

Mulan Deserves Love 2kForever

[writingrage]

i think we all expected them to rush it, but this was so sloppily put together you’d think a 12 year old wrote it

ARE YIU FUCKING KIDDING ME???? I EVEN MARKED THIS EPISODE ON MY FUCKING CALENDAR AND YOU GIVE ME FUCKING RUBY SLIPPERS. WTF????? THE WHOLE WEEK I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR TODAY, BUT THIS IS THE SHIT YOU GIVE TO ME???

[writingrage]

ouat could give us a lgbt couple with poc representation yet they fuck up