Denial (Mulan, Shang/Mulan)

[lightbird777.livejournal.com]

Title: Denial
Author: lightbird
Rating: T
fic_variations Prompt/Claim: sweet
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Word Count: 561
Disclaimer: Anything from the Disney movie belongs to Disney.

Cross posted to lightbird777

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The men had been training hard for weeks, pushing themselves to the limits of their physical and mental capacity. They had earned a well-deserved night off and a break from the confines of Wu Zhong camp.

So Shang allowed them a reprieve, permitting them to leave camp and head to the nearest town where they could drink themselves silly or gamble or whatever they needed to do to let off steam. It would raise spirits and boost morale, something that was as important as the preparation for battle.

Town was several li away and the men cheered when he announced his decision. It took no more than fifteen minutes for the men, and Mulan, to retrieve their horses and clear out. They were a good regiment, trustworthy for the most part and loyal to the Emperor and his cause. He had no worries about them wreaking havoc anywhere, nor failing to return to camp when their leave ended, and the ones that didn’t report would be tracked down easily by the Emperor’s sentinels.

Not a soul had remained behind besides him and Shang enjoyed the solitary quiet of the deserted camp. He sat perched on a large flat rock that jutted out over the lake in the woods nearby, communing with his thoughts and attempting to ease his troubled mind.

Continuing his periodic observance of the troops and their progress, he forced himself to keep his eye on the soldiers that were training under her. Still, her voice rang out, catching his attention, the dulcet, feminine voice that seemed so out of place on the military field. And out of the corner of his eye he would notice the lithe, agile figure moving as she practiced hand to hand combat with the odd-out man who had no one to pair up with. Fierce yet seemingly as light as air, she was poetry in motion when she engaged in martial arts.

During the nights now he dreamed about Mulan. And every morning he woke with a pained, disappointed groan upon discovering that once again it was only a dream and she was gone from his embrace.

Every day he tried not to look at her. And when he had to speak with her he kept their discussions as brief as possible, his tone businesslike and clipped, not allowing a trace of warmth to show. In fact, he no longer even tried to cut her down, too anxious to bring their conversations to an end. It took every ounce of strength to fix his eyes upon her without reddening as he was reminded of his nocturnal fantasies of her every time he came face to face with her.

If he could just ignore her for a long enough time, maybe the burning desire for her would leave him.

“Or perhaps I’ll just go out of my mind,” he mused miserably to himself.

He sighed ruefully, regretting that he hadn’t at least expressed his concerns to the Emperor about a woman in the camp, not only because of the temptation for him but for the other men. Not that it would have done any good; the man wanted her here. Any comment from him, though mild, would no doubt have only succeeded in irking him.

There was no denying it. No matter how much he’d tried to fight it, he was sweet on her.