Disclaimer: I do not own Mulan.

Sorry about the wait. I really did have his mostly written, but test week caught up with me and it's not over yet (Maybe they should call it testing months?). Anyway, here it is and I hope you all like it. The final installment of Consequences is here!

Unless you want me to continue it. If so, say something and I might consider it. If not, I'll assume that everyone is happy.

On with the Chapter!

Consequences

Chapter 2

Grieving

They searched for months.

The woman that the Emperor had commanded them to find seemed to just have disappeared. When they asked around after her description all they would get were blank looks and confused stuttering. Towns near the Palace had been searched, farms had been questioned, and the forests were carefully inspected.

It was as if she had simply vanished into thin air.

The only evidence that they even had of her existence by this point was the outcome of the battle with the Huns and a small, unadorned dagger that had been left behind on the balcony she had been fighting on.

She was, for all intents and proposes, gone.

All the wile Shang's heart ached.

He doubted that they would find her. The amount of blood that they had found was a testament to the fact that, if she did somehow survive and made it out, she would not make it more than a couple of weeks without help. If they found her by this point, she would most likely not be in this world.

Just like Ping.

Shang closed his eyes and sat down on his bed, putting his head in his hands. His grief threatened to overwhelmed him as he refused to let the tears spill from his eyes.

He had no idea how attached he had become to the small but incredibly intelligent soldier that had saved their lives. He had never heard from his father just how hard it was to loose one of his best soldiers.

What hurt even worse was the fact that, while the rest of them were rewarded for their efforts, Ping remained unknown to the rest of the people.

China would remain ignorant of the soldier who had given his life so that his comrades, his friends, could continue on, so that they could eventually go on to save the Emperor. To them, he was just another Soldier who hadn't been fast enough, good enough, brave enough, to survive the battles.

But Ping was. The only reason that Ping was not with the rest of the soldiers was because of him. He had been the one who wasn't fast enough, intelligent enough, brave enough, to survive. But Ping had known that the men needed a leader. He knew that They would never make it to the Emperor without someone to guide them.

Ping had never considered the fact that maybe Shang wasn't the only one that could have led the men to victory. Ping could have saved himself. His reputation with the men and his intelligence would have given him the respect needed to lead the men onwards.

Between the two of them, Ping should not have been the one to die.

Shang laid down and dug his hands into his eyes. Allowing himself one moment of pure grief, and pain, and I'm so sorry Ping I failed you to wash over him.

Then that moment passed and he locked it all away again.

Tomorrow the sun would rise. The soldiers would wake and get ready to march. Shang would lead them.

Tomorrow.

0~o~0

"Message from the Emperor!" a young man called as he made his way through the milling troops. "Make way! Message from the Emperor for General Li!"

The men shifted out of the way, curious but not caring too much. It was breakfast and the food was about to be served. They had no wish to skip their meal to eavesdrop.

The messenger dismounted from his brown horse and slipped inside the Captain's tent at Shang's nod from within.

Shang put down his brush, gently blowing on the cloth that he had been writing on. "What is it that the Emperor wishes?" he asked.

The messenger shifted slightly and reached into his bag, pulling out a scroll and unfurling it. Clearing his throat, the man began to speak, "By order of the Emperor, General Li has been given a temporary leave for his bravery and actions during the Huns invasion. This leave will be exactly one month long and in his absence General Li can appoint any soldier he wishes to take command while he is gone. Signed, the Emperor."

Shang felt his breath freeze. "Is that all?"

Smiling sheepishly the messenger again pulled out another scroll and handed it to Shang. "This is for your eyes only."

Shang nodded, keeping his slightly worried look off of his face. Was he being dismissed from the army? Why? Pushing the thoughts out of his mind, he took the scroll and dismissed the messenger to wait outside of the tent.

Carefully unrolling the scroll after the other had left, Shang began to read.

General Li,

I knew your father well and your actions have proven your loyalty to me and to China many times over. However, many have come to me with their concerns over your health.

Word has reached me that an especially promising soldier was lost in the Pass, and it has effected you greatly. From what I was told, this young man was essentially your apprentice after he started showing promise, and his loss hit you especially hard after he saved your life.

I offer you my condolences and a chance to grieve. Take the time that has been given, and make good of it. I am sure that you will know what to do.

This is not a dismissal. I expect you back in a months time, General.

Good luck,

The Emperor

Shang placed the scroll down, his hands shaking slightly even as his breath once again threatened to hitch.

Ping.

The letter brought up painful memories, memories of Ping sitting on top of the log with an arrow buried in the ground at his feet, of Ping never giving up, of Ping knocking him down in practice. The soldier had gone from a know-nothing boy to a determined soldier in a matter of hours, all just because he had needed the right encouragement.

And Shang had been the one to cause his dead. He should have made sure that Ping had just gone home that night. Maybe then he would not have to deal with the pain of loosing him.

Of loosing someone who had become like a brother to him.

Maybe the Emperor was right. He did need some time.

And he knew just who he was going to go see.

0~o~0

Mulan really didn't know how she had survived. Maybe it was the intense survival training that she had gone through in camp. Maybe it was her stubborn willfulness that had gotten her into the mess in the first place. Whatever it was, though, it was keeping her alive.

It was keeping her moving forward.

She had stopped only to collect her armor and bandage her wound again. She had thought that her death was assured after realizing just how much blood she had lost. Her weakened body had shook for days afterward as she withstood the chills and foggy mind that came with a high fever.

Through it all, Mushu took car of her, and keep them moving. No doubt the Emperor had people combing the land in search of her, but she had no wish to be found. She was a disgrace, someone who should have died a dozen times over but hadn't yet. She didn't deserve any reward given to her.

She couldn't allow those who knew her to realize who she really was, she didn't want their memory of her to be tainted.

So, even through the pain, the sickness, the grief, she pressed forward. Where she was going she didn't completely know. All she was sure of was that she had to keep putting one step in front of the other, over and over again.

Days, weeks, maybe a month passed her in a daze. Sometimes she would wake up thinking that she was Ping, that she was still in the camp and had to wake up before the sun to get ready. Other times she was Mulan, timid yet fierce and determined to protect her family from the fate that awaited them, but still too weak to do much.

And sometimes she was both: Ping and Mulan. A mixture, a little of both, the only reason she was still alive. Mulan would have given up already, too weak to go on. Ping would have pushed himself until he had collapsed and died anyway. But being both meant that she survived.

It was only when the gates that she was oh so familiar with came into view that she felt her heart relax and a feeling of safety wash over her.

She was home.

0~o~0

It had been nearly a year since their daughter had left them to join the army disguised as a boy. It had been a year of worry and fear. Would Mulan come home? Would she be discovered?

Would they ever get to see her again?

Fa Li didn't know, but she hoped for the sake of both of them that Mulan would find her way back to them. Fa Li knew that her husband would not last much longer if no news of their daughter reached them. War was dangerous. It took bravery, courage, and intelligence to survive it.

Just a few weeks before, word had reached their small village that the Huns had invaded and been defeated by a band of barely trained soldiers. Only a few of those soldiers had survived.

Mulan had been with that group, and they could only hope that she was still alive.

That was why, nearly a month after news of the Huns defeat had reached them, Fa Li was surprised to find a figure stumbling into their yard, leading a familiar black horse and nearly soaked from head to foot from the rain. The dark green and black armor was unmistakable.

The bowl that she had been holding shattered on the stone walkway seconds after she started running toward the hunched figure. The rain drizzled down around her, leaving puddles that she splashed through carelessly and obscuring the air. Fa Li reached the figure and froze in front of them, taking in their features.

It was a feminine face, devoid of makeup and tanned from time spent in the sun. The black hair was pulled back into a bun tied in a green ribbon, but if it had hung down around their face it would only have emphasized the womanish features. As it was, the other could have passed as a young boy, barely.

A small smile slipped over the soldier's features as dark, tired eyes sparkled.

"Hello, Mother."

Fa Li's breath caught, and she reached forward hesitantly to brush against the other's face.

"Mulan?"

Her daughter nodded her smile widening. Fa Li felt a laugh of happiness bubble up inside of her. Her daughter was home! Alive! She was alright!

And then Mulan collapsed.

0~o~0

Mulan spent several weeks in bed. Her parents took care of her even as she battled the infection that had settled into her wound. Most would have already died.

By the third week she was already up again and moving around.

To her father's exasperation Mulan refused to be the young woman she had worked her whole life to be. She couldn't be that person anymore. She could not willingly marry someone who didn't understand what she had gone though, what she had seen.

War changed people. Sometimes for the better. Sometimes for the worse. Whatever happened, they never came back the same.

Mulan like to think that for her it was a little bit of both.

0~o~0

Shang hesitated as he stood in front of the Fa's home. Their doors loomed, tall and dark, just like the information he bore. It was something that he had to do, he knew, and he took full responsibility.

He had been Ping's commanding officer, and Ping had been his best, most loyal solder. Without Ping, China would have fallen. And yet, no one would remember him except for those who knew him. To everyone else he was just a brave soldier who died on the battlefield, but to Shang he was so much more. Ping family deserved nothing less then his personal condolences, not a piece of paper telling them of their son's death.

He took a deep breath, gathering his courage, and wondered what Ping's father would be like. He raised his hand and knocked slightly, hearing the sound of his fist echo through the wooden door. Though the estate itself was extremely large, he hoped that someone would be there to allow him in. It would be impolite to just barge in.

He waited several moments and was about to turn away to try again some other time when the doors creaked opened, revealing an old, graying woman with kind, blue eyes. Her facial structure reminded Shang of Ping, and a sharp pain wracked his heart as he realized that this must have been the young soldier's mother.

Shang cleared his throat, bowing slightly, "I'm here to speak to Fa Zhao. Is he . . . is he here?" he could hear his voice cracking slightly again.

The woman frowned, looking like she wanted to say something, but held back and nodded, "Come in."

She held the door open and Shang bowed again slightly as he came through. Seeing the inside of the estate, however, made him catch his breath. It was beautiful. Lush, ancient trees towered above green grass, cut stone, and babbling brooks. It was a land out of dreams.

No wonder Ping had been so unprepared for the world outside, if this is where he had grown up, decorated, retired war captain for a father or not.

The old woman led him to a modest home and let him in, directing him softly to a table to wait while she found her husband. Shang nodded respectfully and took a seat, looking out the window into the beautiful scenery beyond. In his mind he could almost imagine a small child running around, trying and failing to climb the tall trees and leaping across the brook with the agile confidence of youth.

What would Ping have been like had he never gone to war? If he had not died? Shang guessed that he would have probably ended up as a scribe, or a scalar, peacefully married and happy.

If Ping had not died for his country, would he have ever met the brave, determined person who could inspire anyone around him to do better? Shang did not know.

It was the soft swish and clang of a sword that drew Shang's attention from the window as he turned toward the hall. Ping's mother was not yet back and the room the sound was coming from was not in the direction that she had gone, which meant that someone else was in the house.

Was it possible that Ping had . . . a younger brother?

Puzzled, Shang stood and made his way to the room. The door was slightly open when he got there and he poked his head through curious.

Before him stood a figure dressed in dark green, soldiers armor. Familiar soldiers' armor. It was slightly too big for the slight frame, but the other didn't seem to mind, continuing their voiceless dance with an unseen enemy as the bright, reflective blade caught the light, slipping in and out from among unseen enemies. Short hair was pulled up into a bun at the back of the figures head and tied with a green ribbon.

A floorboard creaked as he unknowingly moved closer, making the figure spin and, for the first time, Shang saw the figure's face.

They both froze, one with a sword half leveled, and Shang with disbelief rippling through him. It was impossible . . .

Hazel eyes softened and the sword was swiftly sheathed. A hand, clothed in green and black armor, was placed over the other's heart in a salute while they gave a deep bow.

"I wasn't expecting you, Captain."

The bow had exposed a white bandage running up the other's side, evidence of a still healing wound.

Shang felt like his heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest with the hope that was rushing through him.

"Ping?"

The soldier smirked slightly, hand unconsciously drifting to his side where the wound was.

"It's good to see you, Shang."

0~o~0

The soldiers groaned as they saw the General's white horse riding in. While they appreciated the man's intelligence and greatness in battle he was a slave driver when it came to training. Only those who had fought with him didn't show any displeasure. They were more interested at the horse riding next to their commander.

Chien-Po, the tallest of the more veteran soldiers, felt his eyes widen as he nudged Yao, "Do you see that person next to the General?"

Yao, sadly, wasn't the tallest of men, so the grumbled a sarcastic, "You think I can?"

On the other side of him Ling's breath caught in his throat.

"Is . . . is that . . . who I think it is?" he whispered, his eyes wide and his hands trembling slightly. The newer recruits looked at him strangely but otherwise didn't comment.

The moment that the General road into camp, however, there could be no doubt. The oversized armor (though it looked to have been adjusted slightly for the young man's size), the distinctive green ribbon around his hair bun, the black and white horse he road upon, and the quiet meekness contained in a strong will could only be one person.

Shang reeled in his horse as the newer recruits looked at him strangely. The General had changed quite a bit since he had left near a month before. The dark cloud that had seemed to hang above his head for the time that they had known him was gone and in its place was a confident man, one they could see following into battle.

A smirk crossed his face as his eyes flicked to his companion. "Men," he shouted, quieting any muttering from the crowd and making them straighten, "Let me introduce you to your new Captain, Fa Ping."

From the back of the crowd there was a load thump as Yao fell into a dead faint.

Ping, for his part, gaped at the now grinning General and then, with a screech that had the men closest to him clutching the ears, yelled, "Li Shang you had better have a good explanation for yourself! I wasn't dragged all the way here just so that you could make me a Captain! For all intents and purposes I-"

"Ping."

Ping's mouth clicked shut and his eyes narrowed but he didn't continue. Shang just grinned and kicked his horse back into a trot.

"You'll be a great Captain."

Ping was left with three dozen gaping soldiers and no one to get mad at. Turning red from anger and embarrassment he turned his eyes on the group assembled before him with a slight scowl, "What are you all looking at? Get back to training!"

The men scattered.

Whoever Fa Ping was, they were not going to anger someone who could change the General's attitude from depressed to mischievous in just a few weeks, maybe less.

It also didn't help when the stories started to circulate about how, technically, Fa Ping had died in the battle for the pass a few months ago when saving his Captain, the General Li, and stropping most of the Hun army by drowning them in an avalanche of snow using one carefully calculated cannon blast.

Definitely not someone you want to get on the bad side of.

And Yao, Chien-Po, and Ling still didn't know how Ping had survived going over the side of a cliff.

Neither did Shang, for that matter.

But any time they asked, Ping would just raze one eyes brow in a "You think I should know?" and told them to get back to work.

Shang was a good Captain and a better General.

Ping was an inspirational soldier, but as a Captain he thrived.

And his soldiers thrived under him. Legends would be told for generations to come about Captain Fa's division who never failed.

Eventually Fa Mulan faded into the pages of history, nothing more than a girl who didn't pass the Matchmaker's test, but Fa Ping's story lived on forever.

Still incomplete and waiting, there was one last mystery, one last secret, one last confession that was never uttered.

Fa Mulan was the Hero of China that no one knew.

Fa Ping was the soldier who survive against all odds and lived to become a legend.

Together, they were one and the same.

0~o~0

The End

If anyone wants to continue this, go ahead. Just tell me first so I can read it. I actually like how this turned out, so please tell me what you think!

Review!

(Updated: 4/1/2016)