The Strangest Dream

by ImperfectBride

Summary:

Mulan longs to spend more time with Shang, and gets it in the most unexpected (and embarrassing) ways. While riding with him on his horse after bruising her ankle, however, she ends up having a very strange dream. Missing scenes set during the "A Girl Worth Fighting For" montage.

Notes:

I originally planned for this to be a commissioned fan comic, but I only have so much commission money to go around and I'm too impatient to wait for art, lol. So I made it a fic instead.

This first chapter was originally supposed to be a separate fan comic, but at the suggestion of a friend, I decided to merge it with the "main" story. Not sure when I'll get the rest up, but for now, consider this chapter a prologue of sorts for it!

Chapter 1

It had been raining the entire night before and well into the next morning, leaving a running current of mud down the trail. The platoon had been walking for hours, making steady headway against the freezing wind and the sleet on their faces, and Mulan could barely keep up.

No matter how fast she walked, it seemed that she was always taking one step forward just as the others had already taken three. She couldn’t help it. Her armor wasn’t enough to block out the cold, and her teeth wouldn’t stop chattering under her helmet, which felt frozen to her rain-slicked hair. And the muddy, slippery ground kept sucking at her shoes with every heavy step she took, staining her leggings down to the skin.

She paused as her foot sank through the mud. Frowning, she reached down and yanked. 

But it went right back down into the mud anyway.

“Mulan, come on!” Mushu scurried down and started pulling. Next to him, Cri-Kee did the same thing. “I know ya got shorter legs, but keep up!”

“Hey, it’s not something I can help, alright?” Mulan grimaced as she finally yanked her leg out, the mud having turned her formerly white stocking brown. With a soft chirp, Cri-Kee retrieved the shoe that had come off and carefully fitted it back onto her foot.

“Thanks, Cri-Kee.” Mulan stood up carefully, and took one more step. Then a second, a third—

Until she sank again, this time with a groan of dismay as the mud swallowed her up to the chest.

“Oh, for the love of the ancestors!” Mushu slapped his forehead in exasperation, then took Mulan’s arm and yanked. “Hey, I need a little help here!”

Cri-Kee dutifully got on Mulan’s other side, tiny legs shaking as he tried to pull her out. Mulan sighed and wriggled around, trying to push herself up. She might as well have sunk in a cup of heavy teabags, because the mud wouldn’t stop sucking her in.

“You gotta hurry, or Mr. Bigshot and all his men will leave you behind and—” Mushu paused, then scuttled away with Cri-Kee into the back of her collar. Mulan looked up at the sound of voices, blinking rain out of her eyes. In the fog that had set in over the muddy trail, it was hard to make out the silhouettes of the other soldiers. They’d already left her behind, their voices growing faint.

But now they were growing louder again, and three familiar faces emerged from the rainy fog. Ling’s voice rang out with concern. “Ping? Hey, Ping! What happened?”

“Looks like the mud’s got ya,” Yao noted. “Need a little help?”

“Yes,” Mulan said bluntly. “I could use just—uh— a little.”

“Allow me,” Chien Po said serenely. He leaned forward and effortlessly lifted Mulan up by the armpits, pulling her free of the mud. She tried to steady herself…

…only to sink right back in again.

“Dang, looks like it’s not lettin’ you go!” Ling scratched the back of his neck. “Maybe if all three of us—”

“What seems to be the problem?”

Mulan’s heart did an involuntary somersault, as it so often did at the sound of his voice. Shang rode up, his horse stepping carefully across the pitch-black mud that contrasted with its stark white coat.

“I’m—I’m a little stuck, sir,” Mulan managed, carefully moving her arms to avoid flailing. She wanted to kick herself at how whiny she sounded.

“I see.” Shang swung himself off of his mount, then walked slowly forward. The mud lapped at his shoes as he leaned in, and Mulan’s breath caught in her throat at the brush of his hands over her arms.

Carefully, Shang gripped her underarms and tugged her free to dislodge her from the mud. Mulan could feel herself shaking, not just from the cold, as she immediately stumbled forward and right back onto the solid ground of the trail. More mud dripped from her thighs and streamed down her knees.

Mulan smiled up at Shang. Her heart gave a jump of delight at the returning smile on Shang’s lips, a tiny but unmistakable curve.

She licked her lips, her mind frantically searching for a response. Say something. Anything. “Thank you, sir. I—”

“You’re needed at the front, Captain!” Chi Fu's shrill tone cut in. He rode up next, glaring at Shang. “And that means not holding up your men by going back for some…”

His lip curled with disdain. “Some weakling who can't keep up.”

Shang’s mouth twitched downward into a scowl, his smile gone as quickly as it’d arrived, and Mulan’s heart sank. “Ping is a good soldier, Chi Fu. You shouldn’t disrespect him.”

“Every soldier is a ‘good soldier’ to you,” Chi Fu sneered. “You wouldn’t know an actually competent one if he smacked you on the nose.”

With a haughty harrumph, he turned and his horse trotted away. Shang only rolled his eyes in response.

“Geez, what bit him in the rear?” muttered Ling.

“Forget him. Get back on the trail.” Shang’s tone was now curt. He turned back to Mulan, and—was that concern in his eyes, or was she only seeing what she wanted to see? It was so hard to tell with her captain, sometimes. “Are you sure you can keep up, Ping? I don’t want you sinking on the trail again.”

“Um—yes, I c-can.” Mulan was glad her teeth weren’t chattering too much. “Thank you for asking, sir.”

“Here.” Before Mulan could react, Shang hooked his fingers into the knot of his cape and pulled. The red cloak came loose easily, and he pulled it around her shoulders and carefully tied it to fit. Mulan blinked rapidly, heart hammering so painfully in her chest that it was almost all she could hear. “Wear this. Give it back to me once we’re off the trail.”

She could only stare at him. What could she say to that? The cape felt warm around her shoulders in a way that had nothing to do with the fabric. “Sir, I—”

“Don’t worry about staining it. I can clean it later.” Without looking back, Shang pulled himself back up onto his horse and headed back toward the front of the troop. Mulan could only watch him go, barely aware of the surprised looks Yao, Ling, and Chien Po were sending her way.

Finally, Yao whistled. “Look at you, Ping! The captain really likes ya. Movin’ up in the world.”

“Yeah! You get to wear his cape, how cool is that!” Ling gave Mulan a grin and a hearty slap on her now cape-covered back, which thankfully didn’t make her stumble. “Put in a good word for me with him. You, me, Yao, Chien Po—we four could use all the extra help we can get out here!”

Mulan smiled shakily. “I’ll try.”

“That’s the spirit!” 

Once Yao, Ling, and Chien Po had their backs turned to her, lost in their own conversation again, Mulan heard Mushu’s muttering in her ear. “Hey, get movin’.”

“What?” Mulan blinked a drop of rain out of her eyes again, her gaze fixed on Shang’s silhouette far ahead.

“Get movin’ and stop oglin’ Captain Dreamboat!” Mushu hissed, and Mulan had to repress a snicker before she continued to walk. The rain and fog still weren’t going to let up any time soon, and the mud was soaking through to her shoes and right to her feet. She’d never been colder and more uncomfortable in her life.

But the red cape around her shoulders still felt wonderfully warm.

Chapter 2

Notes:

This chapter takes place during a moment in the "A Girl Worth Fighting For" montage, specifically at the 0:03 mark here when the platoon is going through waterfalls.

The next day was clearer and calmer, with lovely blue skies and gorgeous scenery to match. Mulan marveled at the bamboo forest the platoon was traveling through, remembering this kind of place had been where she’d met Mushu. The greenery was soothing on the eyes, and made the long, weary march a little easier to bear.

The path through the forest led them out to a series of waterfalls, flowing all around them over rocks that had mostly long been worn smooth by the water. Mulan couldn’t stop staring at them, enjoying the soft spray against her face as they went along. 

She was so distracted that she didn’t see the craggy rock in front of her until she’d fallen over it.

“Oooof!” Her leg shot out from under her, hitting the ground with an unpleasant and almost sickening thump. She made a clumsy landing, nearly hitting the rock with her side.

“Mulan!” Mushu shot out from the back of her collar and immediately started tugging on her ankle, which was now splayed out at an awkward angle. “C’mon, get up, get up! We gotta get you movin’!”

Beside him, Cri-Kee gave a chirp of panic and also started pulling on her ankle. Mulan winced. “Mushu, Cri-Kee, I think you’re both making it worse.”

“There’s gotta be something we can use to fix this!” Mushu pushed at her ankle, frowning as she winced in pain again, and then snapped his talons together. “I got it! We need those bamboo leaves for bandages. Just wait here a sec!”

He was off, back into the forest like a shot. Cri-Kee chirped and followed close behind.

Mulan watched them go, then sighed and cradled her ankle gingerly. Pain shot up through it with every movement she took, making her repress yet another flinch at the numbing sensation. Her ankle wasn’t broken, thankfully, but it did ache—even more than her already sore feet did. She likely had some kind of bruise.

“Hey, Ping! You okay?” Ling was at her side again, followed by Yao and Chien Po.

“Uhhh…” Mulan smiled weakly. She was more embarrassed than anything else—first from sinking in mud the other day, and now this. “Maybe? My ankle kind of hurts.”

“Just hold onto us.” Yao wrapped an arm around her side, and Ling did likewise. Mulan leaned on both of them carefully, trying to steady herself as they pulled her to her feet.

“And hold onto me,” Chien Po said gently. He held out a big hand, and Mulan took it, fingers clutching tightly around his soft palm.

With all the support from the Gang of Three, Mulan stood up. She let go of them, just to take a step forward—

—and fell flat on her face. Her helmet gave an unpleasant clang as it fell off, clattering to the ground. “Urgh!”

“Oh, geez, your ankle must be really bad!” Ling winced as he helped her sit up. “Here, c’mon, you can lean on me again—”

“What’s going on here?” Shang’s voice cut in, and Mulan’s heart gave yet another sky-high leap. She glanced up to see that there was no doubting it, now: there was worry on her captain’s face.

Once again, he swung himself off of his steed and walked to her. “Ping, what’s the matter?”

“He fell and can’t get up,” answered Yao. “Got a bad ankle.”

Shang raised an eyebrow. “How did that happen?”

“I tripped,” Mulan said bluntly. “Just tripped on a rock. I think I have a bruised ankle, sir.”

“Not a sprained one?” 

“No, sir.”

“Good. You can still walk, then, you’ll just…” Shang fell into silence for a moment, looking thoughtful. “You just need to be off your feet for a while.”

Mulan was puzzled. “How? We’re still marching, sir. I don’t think…”

She swallowed nervously, then rubbed the back of her neck. “I don’t think I can walk at all right now.”

For a moment, Shang stared at her with an unreadable expression in his eyes. It was all at once both charming and frustrating, Mulan thought. He was the handsomest man she’d ever seen, and so dignified and calm, but he was so hard to understand so much of the time. She would have given everything she’d owned just to know what he was thinking.

Finally, Shang spoke. “You can ride with me, Ping.”

Mulan wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly. “What?”

“Ride with me on my horse. I’ll help you onto it.” Without waiting for a response, Shang leaned forward and—

—and swept her up into his arms. Carefully, oh so carefully, Shang began to carry her toward his horse.

Mulan gave an undignified little squeak, arms flying up to wrap around his neck. Shang carried her gingerly, taking care not to aggravate her bad ankle, and walked stoically as he did.

She was suddenly aware of the way everyone was staring at them. Yao, Ling, and Chien Po all looked stupefied. The soldiers were all gawking, brows were raised, several jaws had dropped. Chi Fu was glaring at them from his own horse, mouth pursed in a thin line.

“What is the meaning of this, Captain?” He spat out his words as though they were a curse.

“I’m helping a soldier. That’s all.” Shang sounded strained, as he so often did around the Emperor’s counsel. 

Gently, Shang placed Mulan on top of his horse’s saddle. Mulan looked back toward the ammunitions wagon, which Khan was tethered to. Khan was giving her a funny look, almost questioning: Why are you riding another horse?

Mulan gave a little shrug, and smiled reassuringly at her own steed. Shang pulled himself up, right behind her, and snapped his horse’s reins to continue the march.

Mulan allowed herself, very lightly, to lean back against Shang’s chest and close her eyes. She was here, with him. Her ankle still throbbed with pain, but in that moment, she knew it was worth it just to be sitting up here. On Shang’s horse, with Shang at her back. It was perfect.

“Sir…” Mulan said softly as she looked back at him, still too flustered to talk too much. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem, Ping.” Shang smiled at her, and there Mulan’s heart went, somersaulting again. “You’re a more capable soldier than I thought you were. I’m sorry for misjudging you. There’s…”

He paused. “There’s something about you I can’t describe.”

Mulan’s heart was thudding loudly. “Oh, really?”

“Yes.” Shang clutched the reins in one hand and rubbed at his chin thoughtfully with the other. Finally, he said, “I think… you’re honest.”

The blood drained out of Mulan’s face. “Honest?”

“I think you’re without pretense,” Shang continued, and Mulan suddenly, desperately wanted to be off the horse and back on the trail, no matter how much her ankle hurt. “You’ve stayed true to yourself throughout training. I respect that.”

“Oh…” What could she even say to that? All she could do was smile nervously, knowing he couldn’t know the real reason she was suddenly so shaky and strange. “Thank you for the—for the kind words, sir. But I had a very good trainer.”

Shang was still smiling at her, and the sight made guilt wrench through her gut with pain greater than that of her ankle’s. “Thank you.” 

They rode on, with Mulan determinedly looking up at the sky to try to ignore how Shang was sitting at her back. High up on a bamboo stalk in the forest, Mushu and Cri-Kee could only exchange baffled looks. 

Chapter 3

The day slowly dragged on, the sky starting to turn a deep pink as evening began to fall. The sun was setting, casting fading rays across the horizon as Mulan and Shang continued to ride on together. 

Weariness was settling in over Mulan, and she could hardly keep her eyes open. Her head was growing heavy, her body growing limp. She blinked, then gave an enormous yawn.

“Tired?” Shang asked softly.

“A little bit…” Mulan mumbled the words out. She didn’t want to fall asleep now, but she was just so exhausted.

“Go ahead and sleep, Ping.” Shang gently nudged her shoulder, pulling on the reins of his horse as it kept going. “I’ll make sure you won’t fall off.”

“Thank you, sir.” There was nothing else Mulan could say to that, still being a little flustered and all by his attentions. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to lean back.

Soon, sleep overtook her, and she grew completely limp. Carefully, Shang turned her around so that she was riding the horse sidesaddle, rather than astride, and kept her close to his chest as he rode along.

Mulan found herself plunging headlong into a dream.

There was a meadow around her, bold and beautiful with colorful flowers waving everywhere on a breeze. She was walking through the meadow, calm and serene, until she came across a pond.

The pond showed her reflection: a girl with long, long hair again, and in a gorgeous red silk hanfu dress with an ornate gold head accessory she had never seen before. Mulan stared in disbelief, then reached up to touch the crown in her hair. Since when had she ever worn something like this? This was an outfit for a princess, not her.

But then she heard it. Barking. She looked up, and a smile broke across her face.

It was Little Brother, running to meet her. She picked up her skirts and ran toward him, ready to reunite with her puppy—

But Little Brother’s smiling face transformed into a snarl, a snarl that completely enveloped his head and seemed to turn it inside out like folding paper. His body crumpled and blackened into that of a growling, monstrous wolf.

It was chasing after her now, snapping and snarling and roaring a beast’s battle cry. Mulan’s heart was in her throat, terror blinding her as she turned and ran. Why was she wearing this dress, it was making it so hard to run, she had to keep picking up her skirts—!

She tripped on the rich gown, and tumbled ungracefully into the meadow grass. With nowhere to run, all she could do was look up helplessly at the wolf’s jaws, and wait for—

SLASH!

The wolf disappeared with a loud whimper into a puff of smoke, cut in half by a sword. Shang stood before her, holding up the blade triumphantly as his cape fluttered in the wind.

Mulan’s heart was pounding harder than ever, joy overwhelming her and flowing through her like an elixir. She brought her hands to her mouth. “Shang…”

“Mulan.” Shang tenderly leaned down, smiling oh so sweetly at her in a way that had her melting into his arms as he helped her to her feet. “Are you hurt?”

"No…” Mulan whispered. “I’m safe, now that you’re here.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Shang embraced her, his arms wrapping protectively around her, and Mulan could hear her heart singing with happiness. “Let’s go.”

He picked her up and carried her to his waiting white horse, where he placed her gently on the saddle. Mulan sighed blissfully, nestled against him and on his  lap, and wrapped her arms around him. She leaned her head against his chest and nuzzled into it as they rode along.

Mulan couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by her dream. She leaned her head against Shang’s chest, then wrapped her arms around him and began to nuzzle him affectionately in her sleep.

Shang tensed up, startled at the sudden intimate contact. He looked down at Ping, at a complete loss as to what to do. What was he doing? Ping had only just fallen asleep—what kind of dream, then, must he be having?

Behind him, he could hear the soldiers whispering. Immediately, Shang straightened up, clutched the reins, and looked strictly forward with tension in his shoulders again. He was their captain, their commander, their leader. It would be remiss of him to forget that.

“The soldiers are getting restless, you know,” Chi Fu said snidely, riding up beside him. “The men aren’t going to stay loyal to a captain who clearly plays favorites.”

Shang gritted his teeth. “I’m not favoring anyone, Chi Fu. I’m just helping a brother-in-arms. Ping has more than proven himself a good recruit.”

“Well, if you say so, but I think—” A mudball smacked Chi Fu right upside the head, streaming down his neck, and he gave an indignant shriek of rage. He turned his horse around. “Yao! How dare you! You insubordinate little—”

While Chi Fu rode away to yell himself hoarse, Shang looked back down at Ping. There was now a loose strand of hair on Ping’s forehead, having fallen away from his topknot. Tenderly, Shang brushed away the hair with a finger and allowed himself a small smile.

They were galloping away to a beautiful mansion built like the palace in the Imperial City. It was the most gorgeous structure Mulan had ever seen, with gleaming white walls and a red roof and a moon garden twice the size of the one she had at home. Shang carried her again, up the stairs into the house.

They entered a lovely bedroom, draped with silks and shining with gold. There was a canopy bed waiting for both of them.

Shang was still smiling at her as he set her down on the bed. “Isn’t this beautiful?”

 "Yes, it is,” Mulan murmured. She reached for him. “Don’t let me go.”

“I won’t.” Shang began to take off his armor and cape, shedding it until he was shirtless. Mulan’s stomach gave a swooping sensation at the sight of his abs, his pecs, his muscular arms—still just as eye-catching as the very first time she’d seen them on the first day of training.

She reached out to touch him, and Shang caught her hand and brought it to his chest. He smirked. “Do you like what you see, Mulan?”

"Oh, yes,” Mulan breathed. “I like it. I…”

“Don’t speak. Just come closer…” Shang leaned in, his lips inches from hers, his breath hot on her cheek—

—and his voice deepened into a snarl. “And let me KILL YOU!”

Mulan gave a panicked jerk back, her eyes wide with horror. Shang transformed before her eyes, his body folding in on itself like paper and reforming into a shadowy, silhouetted beast of a man she didn’t recognize.

He pulled out a sword again, this one serrated and nothing like the broadsword Shang had used in her defense. Mulan gave a scream of fear, tumbling away from the bed, and made a run for it.

She slammed the bedroom door behind her, but the monster’s sword slashed through it, spraying splinters everywhere. She kept running, hearing the door be cut down behind her, and running and running and running, but the mansion halls seemed twisting and never-ending, each corner looking exactly the same no matter where she turned. 

Finally, she turned down another hall—and her feet came out to nothing. There was nothing but air under her, now, and she was falling, falling from the very top tower of the mansion, weightless, helpless, her hair whipping in her face, her dress billowing around her like a curtain, her mouth open and screaming—

“Ping? Ping!”

Mulan jolted awake with a grunt and a half-caught scream in her throat. She looked around groggily.

She was still on Shang’s horse. They had come to a stop on some steppes, and there were noises all around of them, of chatter and bustling, as the soldiers set up camp for the night. The sky was now dark, with the sun long having set.

Shang was watching her, obvious concern in his face. “Ping, what’s wrong? You’re shaking.”

“It’s—it’s nothing.” Mulan tried to will her trembling body to be still. She gave Shang a weak little smile. “Really. I just… had the strangest dream.”

Shang looked nonplussed, but nodded. “I understand. You were shaking so much at the end of it, I thought you were having a nightmare.” 

“It wasn’t—it wasn’t that bad.” The lie came disturbingly easily. Still shaken, Mulan pushed herself off of Shang’s horse and landed steadily on the ground. “My ankle feels better now. Thank you for the ride, Captain.”

She didn’t look back as she walked into the camp, though she could feel Shang’s eyes on her the entire time. It should have been what she wanted— to have Shang’s eyes on her was her goal so much of the time—but all she could think of now was her own embarrassment.

Naturally, she found her tent already set up for her. 

“Here you go, Mulan, one piping hot cup of bamboo leaf tea to lift your spirits right up!” Mushu shoved the cup into her hands the second she got into the tent. “And Lucky Bug here got your helmet for you.”

Cri-Kee nodded happily, holding up the helmet. Mulan had to marvel at the amount of heavy objects such a tiny insect was able to haul around without too much of a problem.

“Thanks, guys.” Mulan looked down skeptically at the cup of tea, which was a dark, muggy brown and topped with some leaf curlings. “Are you sure this is safe to drink?”

“Positive, sister! Old recipe passed down by all the guardians of the family.” Mushu looked proud, at least until Cri-Kee chirped something at him that made him scowl. “Hey, I made this tea! Don’t you take credit for my hard work.”

Mulan took a long sip from the tea. It was surprisingly delicious, with a warmth that shot straight to her stomach and eased the slight ache there. “This is very good, Mushu. Thank you.”

As she drank, though, all she could think about was Shang and the way he’d looked at her after their ride.

---

In the middle of the camp, Shang was now off his horse. But he was too busy looking down as he hung onto his horse’s saddle, staring at the ground, to notice anything else. Over and over again, only one thought raced through his mind—

Why can’t I stop thinking about him?

It was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. Ping was just yet another one of his soldiers. Ping was like a brother. A younger brother, really, who had surprised him the most out of everyone he’d trained, and who had kept impressing him after all his failures beforehand.

And yet… 

Shang’s mind went back again and again to those moments—of Ping cuddling against him in his sleep, of brushing away a lock of hair from Ping’s forehead. They shouldn’t have made his heart flutter the way they had, but they’d done so anyway.

He sighed. He couldn’t afford to play favorites with his men, but he would be lying to himself if he said Ping wasn’t special to him. He’d grown entirely too fond of the younger recruit for his own good.

He was losing it, really. It was just exhaustion from all the marching, wasn’t it? It had to be—

“CAPTAIN!” Chi Fu shrieked. “LING PUT BUGS IN MY BED AGAIN!”

Broken out of his reverie, Shang rolled his eyes. Without further ado, he pushed himself up and went to address the problem.

Notes:

If you didn't get the "Shang turns into a monster" nightmare part of the dream, basically Shang turns into a shadowy, silhouetted version of Shan Yu. Emphasis on the "shadowy and silhouetted" part, because at this point Mulan doesn't know what Shan Yu looks like yet.

I also had a specific image in mind for the part where Mulan sees her reflection in a princess dress with long hair in her dream (my meta jab at Mulan's ridiculously girly and OOC Disney Princess merchandise), which you can find here.