snarky_panda

Title: Withered Blossom
Author: lightbird
Fandom: Mulan
Character: Fa Mulan
Rating/Warnings: MA, mature themes
Disclaimer: Everything from the Disney movie belongs to Disney. Anything else is mine.

Summary: Sequel to A Tale of the Woman. Mulan, now the Emperor’s concubine, has given birth to a son.

( Prologue )

Fandom: Mulan
Character: Fa Mulan
Title: A Tale of the Woman
Author: snarky_panda (aka lightbird)
Themes: #3, Moving; #26, Gone; #25, Destruction; #28, Secret; #19, Fate; Destiny
Genre: Angst/Drama
Rating/Warning: NC-17, rated for sex and adult themes; mature readers only
Disclaimer: Anything from the Disney movie belongs to Disney. Anything from Raise the Red Lantern belongs to Su Tong.

Summary: 5-part crossover fic (sort of) inspired by Raise the Red Lantern and alternate storyline based on another outcome that could have occurred because Mulan failed the matchmaker’s test. Some of the die-hard fans may stone me for this one; you’ve all been warned. Completed.

(Link here)

Title: Prey
Author: snarky_panda
Theme: faithful heart
Fandom: Mulan
Pairings/Characters: Fa Mulan/Li Shang
Disclaimer: Everything from the Disney movie belongs to Disney.
Summary: Seven-chapter fic written for the 1theme community challenge. Alternate universe suspense story set in the 20th century, specifically the early 1980’s. The memory sections take place in the 1960’s, during China’s Cultural Revolution.

(Link here)

Title: 30 Kisses: Mulan and Shang
Author: snarky_panda (aka lightbird)
Fandom: Mulan
Pairing: Li Shang/Fa Mulan
Summary: Written for the 30_kisses challenge
Disclaimer: All characters, etc. from the Disney movie belong to Disney.

(Link here)

Title: Denial
Author/Artist: lightbird
Fandom: Mulan
Characters: Li Shang/Fa Mulan
Rating: T
Prompt: sweet
Word Count: 561
Disclaimer: Everything from the Disney movie belongs to Disney.
Note: 1st fic here. 2nd fic here.

---

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.

Title: Strength and Discipline
Author/Artist: lightbird
Fandom: Mulan
Characters: Li Shang/Fa Mulan
Rating: T
Prompt: sweet
Word Count: 915
Disclaimer: Everything from the Disney movie belongs to Disney.
Note: 1st fic here.

---

Li Shang stood silently, weight leaning on his back foot, arms folded, and observed the training. He noted with pride the way she skillfully demonstrated the exercises to the new recruits. Her voice was authoritative and confident as she addressed the men and showed them the best way to execute the moves.

“This represents strength. And this represents discipline.” She’d already shot an arrow into the top of the tall pole in the middle of camp and was now challenging the men to retrieve it, with bronze weights around their wrists. Back during his first campaign, when he was only a captain, Mulan had been the first soldier in his camp to beat this challenge. “You need both to reach the arrow.”

He would never tell her how proud he was of her accomplishments then and now, never even let on with a gesture or a glance. Instead, when she reported to him later on that evening, eagerly explaining her progress with the recruits, he would brush her off abruptly as he always did.

“Don’t get cocky, Lieutenant Fa,” he would tell her, his voice stern and patronizing. “You still have a long way to go.”

She always looked momentarily deflated on those occasions but he ignored the tugs at his heart that those expressions stirred. After all, many of her accomplishments were thanks to him and his excellent training.

Training was going well. He’d worked with several of the soldiers before, including Fa Mulan of course. Now the Emperor had promoted him to General and those ‘old hands’ were assisting him with the training of the new recruits. Mulan earned the rank of lieutenant and was quickly excelling. He had no doubt that before long she would make captain.

Last night’s drinking binge was still on his mind. Yao, Ling and Chien-po were all worse for wear today but Mulan, somehow, seemed unaffected. Perhaps it was because he’d allowed her to sleep in, having recanted his order that her shift be changed to the early morning. He still couldn’t figure out how she’d managed to out-drink Chien-po. Was there some secret to counteracting the effects to alcohol that she possessed?

Come to think of it, he’d often encountered her concocting teas and other herbal mixtures over the campfire. Though he was extremely curious he’d never asked her about them, assuming that they were merely teas that she liked to drink, maybe herbal remedies to help her sleep or fight off a cold. Maybe she had some trick up her sleeve about a potion of sorts that would help her fight the effects of the liquor.

It wouldn’t surprise him at all.

Things were much different when he thought she was Fa Ping, a boy recruit, he thought with a soft sigh. Now that he was conscious of her gender, everything was more difficult. It felt unnatural to speak with her as a friend, even to joke with her. If he felt more comfortable, he might have asked her with a laugh about her iron constitution, what her teas were for, if she possessed medical knowledge that he ought to know about. But when he sat beside her or stood with her, he found that he was unable to get the words out. Anything he said, any quip he tried to make would just seem heavy-handed and forced, so he said nothing.

Besides, what would the men think if he was friends with her? Seeing them together, even just acting friendly, they might infer something else about the relationship. For him that wouldn’t make a difference; but it could severely tarnish her reputation. Her friendship with Yao, Ling and Chien-po didn’t seem to cause any problem, but perhaps it was because they were a group. Shang sensed instinctively that it would be different with him. Especially after last night’s little scene in her tent…

He shook his head, needing to physically push away the memory of that. It didn’t seem the least bit awkward for her, as it was for him. Did she feel ashamed at all? She’d been awfully flirtatious. Not that she had control of herself. That was all the drink, of course. Or was it?

As much as he hated to admit it, she was a distraction. He’d always been a man of discipline and self-control, ingrained into him since he was a child. And every moment she was around him she threatened to undermine that. His world felt as if it had been turned upside down the moment the Emperor ordered her back into his camp, now revealed and recognized as a woman.

And so he was stern with her, the unbending, sour general reprimanding and cutting down his subordinate.

“General Li?”

Shang blinked his way out of his thoughts where the very lieutenant that he was musing on stood before him. Embarrassed and angry at getting caught woolgathering, and even worse by her, a blush began to creep through his body, face and across his scalp.

“The troop is ready, Sir. You wanted to inspect them?”

“I was just observing the training, Lieutenant,” he retorted brusquely. “Carry on.”

“Yes, Sir.” She bowed and saluted him hand over fist. “They’ve already mastered…”

“You can give me your report later, Lieutenant Fa,” he cut her off rudely. “I didn’t ask for it now.”

“Yes, General.”

Watching her jog back to the head of her troop and call them to order, he wondered if she even had any memory of the previous night.

(continue to fic 3)

Title: Drink
Author/Artist: lightbird
Fandom: Mulan
Characters: Li Shang/Fa Mulan
Rating: T
Prompt: sweet
Word Count: 1,582
Disclaimer: Everything from the Disney movie belongs to Disney.

---

Li Shang never drank wine or liquor of any sort. As a boy growing up, he’d learned to loathe the smell with a passion. His father’s breath and clothing had always reeked of rice wine and Du Kang, and to this day he couldn’t abide the scent.

Vivid memories of the general that he preferred to forget stubbornly remained with him and probably would throughout his life. Images of his father’s red face heated and flushed to a fevered hue from the liquor. The wild, feral fury in his eyes when he was in the throes of a drunken temper. And the sickening stench of liquor on his breath when he grabbed the small boy by the collar, bringing his face within an inch of his. Shang’s body would tense against the revulsion that rose into his throat as his father’s warm, odious exhalations rushed into his mouth and nose like a gust with each epithet that he cast at him.

It was so bad on some occasions he would become dizzy.

Eventually his father managed to find his way to his bedroom and Shang wouldn’t see or hear him until late the next morning.

When he was sober, General Li was an even-tempered, disciplined Imperial officer, renowned for his bravery, leadership skills and charisma. He was one of the Emperor’s most trusted generals and military advisors, who’d had success after success in military campaigns. It was almost impossible to believe that the crazed, enraged drunk was even the same man, so profound was the change in temperament and personality when he drank even just a couple of glasses of wine.

The general’s drinking became worse when the signs of his aging began to appear, Shang realized when he reflected back on it now as a grown man. When grey streaks began to appear in his head, when he noticed his reaction time slowing and his endurance waning ever so slightly. And when he saw the younger generals who were coming up, beginning their own brilliant careers and not even near their peak.

He hated the taste of it as much as the smell, Shang discovered one day. Succumbing to the pressure of his classmates at the Imperial Academy one night, he joined them in a night out on the town. Du Kang nearly set his chest on fire. And rice wine was much too nauseatingly sweet. It didn’t take much to get him drunk and he felt so ill the next day he thought he was going to die. It was the first and last time he would ever drink alcohol.

To this day he was sickened by the sight of drunken men, and when he’d had occasion to witness drunken women he was horrified. And tonight was no different. He stood in the opening of his tent, weight leaning on his back foot, arms folded, and scowled in disgust at his soldiers gathered around the fire in the middle of camp; particularly one of them. Shang regarded her with an odd mixture of utter disdain and fascination. She was handling herself better than any of them despite her petite size and light weight.

It was all Yao’s fault. And Ling’s. The two of them couldn’t go a day without causing mischief of some sort. He didn’t know the details, but he’d managed to gather that the two of them had decided to bet on who could out drink the other. Somehow Chien-po and Mulan got involved, and the rest of the men followed suit, betting on the four of them. They were gathered around watching the four drinkers, cheering each time one of them downed another cup and remained sitting up. After each round of drinks they were tossing more money into the pot.

The smart ones bet on Chien-po, based on his size, but to everyone’s surprise it was now down to the giant soldier and Mulan, the tiny woman warrior.

“How is she matching Chien-po?” Shang quietly wondered, awed. She didn’t even seem to be the least bit unsteady! Unlike the large rotund man who was already swaying ever so subtly. It wasn’t enough that anyone else would notice; he could discern it only because of his experiences with his father.

Another round went by and Chien-po picked up his next cup. The men cheered as he drained it dry and set it down. He remained sitting up for only a moment though, before keeling over to one side with a loud thud in the dirt. Mulan’s fans began to cheer and clap her on the back, until one of the losers behind Chien-po protested, announcing that she had to drink one more cup to at least match the number that he’d had.

Shang watched in disbelief as she drained one more cup, set it down and raised her arms in victory amidst loud cheering. As they dispersed for the night, some of the men picked up the three losers, now sprawled on the ground, and carried them to their respective tents. It took four men to carry Chien-po.

For a moment he watched Mulan as she sat and gathered her winnings, still unable to believe how unaffected by the drink she appeared. Then he grabbed the lit lantern from the table in his tent and strode forward to join her, beginning to kick dirt on the campfire to put it out while getting a good look at her. She glanced up at him curiously, her dark eyes glassy and shining in the moonlight, and smiled.

“You’re still leading the troops in training tomorrow, Lieutenant Fa. And you’re on the early shift.”

“Since when?”

Her speech was slightly altered, he noticed, and her voice was a bit louder than usual.

“Since now,” he replied coolly.

She stood up abruptly, clearly about to challenge him, then stumbled and nearly fell face first into the ground. Instinctively he quickly stepped in front of her and caught her with one arm. So, she wasn’t made of iron after all. He set the lantern down on the ground, then hooked both of his hands under her armpits and lifted her off of her knees.

“Come on,” he growled, annoyed. Putting an arm around her torso and pinning her against his body, he scooped up the lantern with his free hand and began to half-walk, half-drag her toward her tent. She leaned limply against him, her head against his shoulder.

“You’re mean,” she murmured through the sweep of hair that fell forward and covered her face.

As he turned to look at her, the clean, floral scent of her hair wafted into his nostrils and he felt his stomach flip.

“And the four of you are idiots,” he muttered gruffly, consciously pushing aside the discomfort he felt. “How many cups of that did you drink?”

“I don’t know. We went through two bottles, I think.”

“Hmph, mostly you and Chien-po,” he retorted disdainfully.

They reached her tent finally. He led her to the pallet and set the lantern down on the small table beside it. She clung to his shoulders now, giggling as she threw them both off balance and caused them to go crashing onto the bed, he on top of her. He quickly went to raise himself up.

“You forgot to tie your tie,” she teased, gazing up at him like a playful kitten. Her face was so close to his and he could smell the wine on her breath. Strangely enough it didn’t bother him the way it always had. She smelled floral and sweet, and that mixed with the alcohol had a strangely intoxicating effect on him.

He shook his head and sat up.

“What?”

Before he could stand her hand was at the back of his head and he felt her tug at the red tie that held his topknot in place. His hair tumbled down around his face and a moment later she grinned up at him, triumphantly flaunting the prize that she’d obtained and beginning to twirl the red ribbon playfully on one finger.

“Mulan…go to sleep.” He reached out to take back the tie but she snatched it back and wouldn’t let him. “Mulan.”

“Only if you take it back.”

“Take what back?”

“What you said. Your sudden decision to put me on the early shift.”

His jaw dropped. Was this some sort of act after all?

“You’re impossible,” he spat back in disgust.

“So are you. There’s no reason for you to suddenly change my shift, other than you have something up your…”

“Don’t you dare,” he cut her off with a hiss.

She stared at him defiantly and he heaved an impatient sigh. He knew she was right. Springing that on her was unfair; he’d only decided to change her shift in that moment because he was furious at her for drinking. He so loathed drinking.

“Fine. You’ll be on your original shift. But you better be on time, Lieutenant Fa.”

“Yes, sir,” she mock saluted him. She held out the red tie then pulled it out of his reach when he went to grasp it. After taunting him a few times in this way she finally surrendered it, sensing that he was on the verge of killing her.

“Goodnight, General Li.” The silky tone and inflection of her voice as she drawled those words made his stomach flip again and he felt his face and torso become warm.

Without answering her he turned on his heel and strode out of her tent.

(continue to fic 2)

Title: Words Fail
Author/Artist: lightbird
Characters: Helga, Olga, Big Bob, Arnold
Rating: T
Prompt: Set 7, Prompt B, words fail you
Word Count: 622
Warnings: Not beta’d. Weird, depressing.
Disclaimer: Hey Arnold belongs to Craig Bartlett. I make no money from this fanwork.

---

Earlier, when they found him on the floor in the living room, conscious but in a state of mental confusion, he’d been slurring his words.

“This isn’t the first time he’s fallen either,” Olga told the paramedics when they arrived and began to examine him, testing the strength in his arms to see if he had weakness on one side, asking him questions to check if he was oriented.

“He’s got strength in his hands and arms on both sides and he’s oriented,” one of the men told them. “But he should still go to the hospital so they can rule out a stroke.”

Olga rode in the ambulance with their father while Helga followed in her car.

Now she just wanted to get out of that room. Sterile, white, stark, filled with Olga’s loud sobbing and the sight of Big Bob lying in the hospital bed. As her gaze took in the aged, frail form all she could think of was the father she knew long ago, a large, sturdy man who threw his weight around with confidence and loudly ordered everyone around. Torn up with bitterness at that time, she angrily referred to him as a blowhard.

Helga folded her arms and scowled. The image before her now was so different, so dissonant with her memories.

It wasn’t a full-blown stroke, the doctors said. They believed it might have been what they called a transient ischemic attack or a TIA. A fancy acronym that described a ‘mini-stroke’. These usually preceded the real thing if not treated.

What scared her more than the mention of the word stroke, though that terrified her, was seeing Big Bob, a man who had an answer for everything, try to speak and fail to even come up with words. She wasn’t sure if he couldn’t think of them or if there was actually a breakdown of the mechanism between his brain and his voice. But something wasn’t right.

Maybe he would survive this, but would the damage be permanent? Would he struggle to speak for the rest of the time he had? Would he recognize his children? She’d never been close with him, but faced with the prospect of losing him, in one way or another, an odd sensation permeated her, making her uneasy.

Visiting hours came to an end and Helga bid her father goodnight, standing beside the bed and giving his hand a firm squeeze. She never had been comfortable running over and throwing her arms around him, pecking him on the cheek the way Olga always did, calling him Daddy.

As she left the room, she breathed a sigh of relief and strode out to the reception area to wait for her older sister, who lingered over Big Bob.

“Arnold,” she murmured, her lips turning up into a small smile as she glimpsed her husband sitting in one of the chairs in the reception area.

“I came as soon as I got your message.” He rose to his feet and stepped toward her. “How is he?”

Helga shrugged. “They’re still trying to figure out what it is. A neurologist is going to examine him tomorrow morning. He doesn’t have all of the symptoms of a stroke, but he has some, so they think it might be a mini-stroke. He’s also had a bad cold so they want to rule out a severe infection.”

He slipped a supportive arm around her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

She leaned her head against him and nodded. It would be too difficult to put what she felt into words, even to him, and she wasn’t even sure she knew her own emotions right now.

But Arnold had always possessed an uncanny capacity to see beyond her words anyway.

Title: Cold
Author/Artist: lightbird
Characters: Olga, Helga
Rating: T
Prompt: Set 6, Prompt A, seashell
Word Count: 533
Summary: Based on the episode Student Teacher. Olga doesn’t understand what went wrong.
Warnings: Not beta’d. This idea seemed better in my head; I don’t think it works quite as well on paper.
Disclaimer: Hey Arnold belongs to Craig Bartlett. I make no money from this fanwork.

---

Pulling her parka tighter around her shuddering body, she picked up the pen and began writing the letter to her little sister while her small class of students worked independently on their exercises. It had always been her desire to make a difference in the world, to help those who were less fortunate than herself. That was one of the reasons she considered the idea of coming here to teach poor and underprivileged Inuit children.

Her original plan was to volunteer at her sister’s school this time around and teach Inuit children later on, after she’d graduated. She and her little sister had never been close, and it made her sad. It was her hope that maybe if they spent a lot of time together they would bond and have a more sisterly relationship. But Helga hadn’t wanted her there, and what she thought would be a great bonding experience had only made her sister resent and hate her more.

So here she was, freezing her buns off in an igloo in Alaska. God, it was so cold in this place. What she wouldn’t give to be in a warm place at the beach right now.

The Pataki family had spent almost every summer at the beach when she was growing up. It wasn’t far from the city, about an hour’s drive away. They always rented the same cabin and she remembered playing in the ocean with her mother and father, building sand castles while they lounged on a blanket sunning themselves, collecting seashells.

It was even more fun when her little sister was there. Olga was eleven when she was born. When Helga was still small, not quite a toddler, their mother kept her on the blanket, afraid that the rambunctious and curious baby would crawl after her big sister and into the ocean. Olga returned to the blanket a lot to play with her. And when Helga began to walk and talk, they collected shells together, picking out the perfect-shaped, shiniest shells they could find.

“If you hold it to your ear like this, you can hear the ocean inside of it,” she told her four-year-old sister one day.

Olga held the large pink seashell against her ear in a demonstration, then lowered it and held it out to Helga.

“Pretty.”

“It is. And listen.”

She gently placed the opening of the shell against Helga’s ear.

“Hear the waves inside?”

A perplexed look crossed the little girl’s features for a moment, but then Helga smiled and nodded.

“Can I have it?”

“Of course. It’ll look pretty on your dresser in your room.”

Those times had been fun. Of course Helga was much younger than her, just a very little girl at the time who looked up to her big sister. They had very little in common though.

Tears welled up in Olga’s eyes as she continued writing her letter, telling Helga about how much she enjoyed teaching the Inuit children, conveying the upbeat and cheerful attitude that her family always expected from her. But this time she didn’t leave it at that.

I still don’t understand what happened between us, she wrote. But all I know is that I miss you terribly, Baby Sister. Write soon. Love, love, love, more love, Olga.

Title: The Space Between
Author: lightbird
Prompt: 3/26/07, star-crossed
Fandom: Mulan
Pairing: Mulan/Shang (with hints of Mulan/Shan-yu)
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Disney owns the characters from the animated movie and the legend belongs to the Chinese people.

*******

A wistful sigh escaped her as she lay on her side and stared wide-eyed into the darkness. Her husband’s arm was wound around her waist and she was hesitant to move, lest she wake him, though she wanted to slip out of his grasp and get out of bed.

She cared very much for Shang. Though they began on shaky ground, a relationship based on a lie at its very foundation, their marriage was a perfect arrangement for both families, who were encouraged by several auspicious signs. And day by day their love bloomed and thrived.

But often she remembered the childhood friend, the one who’d become a bitter enemy when the Emperor’s wall went up between their villages. Shan-yu had been like a brother to her at a time when relations with their neighbors to the north were amiable and cooperative. A master horseman like so many of his countrymen, even as a small child, he’d taught Mulan to ride, instructing her on the fine points of horsemanship and the care of horses. She’d never forgotten those lessons.

Things began to change when they reached their pre-teen and early teenage years. As they became closer and their relationship morphed into something beyond mere friendship, the Emperor had become suspicious and paranoid and he ordered that the gaps in the Great Wall, like those near Mulan’s village, be filled in.

Imperial troops were dispatched to guard the border between their two villages as well as others along the border. But he always found a way to sneak across to see her. He’d grown into a strapping young man by then, his physique and charms not lost on her.

Then the wall was completed and they were cut off from each other. She never saw him again until that moment in the mountains when she stood in the path of his galloping horse and sharp sword and fired a cannon that would destroy him.

Shang shifted in his sleep as she exhaled again.

“Mulan? What is it?”

“Nothing,” she sighed distantly. “I’m just having trouble sleeping. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

He kissed the back of her head and she turned over to face him.

“Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

She reached over and stroked his face tenderly. As her fingers drew close to his lips he kissed them tenderly, sending a thrill through her body, and a smile spread across her face.

Things had happened the way they were meant to, she supposed, snuggling close to her husband. It would do no good to wonder about what might have been. She was with a man that she loved deeply now, who returned her love. She wouldn’t forget the past; but she could move forward.

Title: Garden Party
Author/Artist: lightbird
Characters: Helga
Rating: PG
Prompt: Set 5, Prompt A, garden
Word Count: 368
Summary: Helga is the only girl not invited to Rhonda’s latest party
Warnings: Not beta’d and I wasn’t thrilled with it. But I can fix it later. :D
Disclaimer: Hey Arnold belongs to Craig Bartlett. I make no money from this fanwork.

---

Helga scowled as she glimpsed her best friend walking down the street, joining the rest of the girls from their class. They were all dressed in pastel-colored, frilly summer dresses and matching sun hats, giggling together as they went.

All the girls in class had been invited to the party in the rooftop garden of the Lloyd townhouse; except for her.

“A garden party,” she scoffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest defiantly. “Who ever heard of nine-year-olds having garden parties?”

She felt a little betrayed by Phoebe though, who’d opted to join the others rather than hang back with her best friend.

Her classmates disappeared around the corner. Confident that she wouldn’t be seen now, Helga descended the steps of her front stoop and headed toward the dumpster where the neighborhood kids threw rocks all the time. It was something to do on this day when she was left alone, and she found that it helped to alleviate her anger.

Big Bob had left early to run his Saturday errands and wouldn’t be back until dinnertime probably. Miriam would no doubt spend the day in bed. Helga had practically run out the door in an effort to escape the gloom of that house.

Picking up a palm-sized rock, she hurled it furiously at the large metal bin, feeling somewhat satisfied with the loud clang it made. She leaned down and scooped up another large rock.

“As if I’d want to get dressed up like some kind of frilly doll and have tea with Princess and her prissy friends,” she snorted as she heaved it at the dumpster.

Rhonda Wellington Lloyd had been born into privilege and her attitude, her dress, everything about her exuded that. And, at the young age of nine, she was already too pretentious for her own good, imitating adult socialites with her garden parties and gatherings for the ‘select’.

Only everyone had been selected except her.

For a moment she paused, an empty ache pervading her as she let that thought linger in the forefront of her mind. Then she scooped up a handful of rocks and continued to pelt them one by one in a steady rhythm against the metal can.

Title: Battles
Author: lightbird
Prompt: 3/16/07, last word
Fandom: Mulan
Character/Pairing: Mulan/Shang
Disclaimer: Anything from the Disney movie belongs to Disney.

*******

He sighed wearily. Li Shang hated arguing with his wife and they’d been going at it for a full half hour already. She wasn’t backing down; but neither would he. Not this time.

“What does the Emperor say?”

“The Emperor has nothing to do with this. I’m to pick my own troops.”

“And you would pass me over?”

“I’m not passing you over. You’ve already honored China greatly, Mulan, and you worked so hard in my camp. That’s not a life for you…”

“Says who?”

“I don’t want my wife going into battle and risking her life.”

“You’re risking your life. Why is it different for me?”

“It’s what I was born to do. To be a soldier and defend my country. But you’re a woman…”

“And?” she challenged angrily, haughtily, and he stood down momentarily as he realized that he’d made a mistake bringing that point up. “What of it? I proved that I could fight as well as any of the men in your troop.”

“Better,” he remarked quietly. Memories of her feats in the army still awed him whenever they surfaced to the forefront of his mind. But this war that they were about to enter into was going to be an extremely ugly one. Brutal and pointless, spurred on by a blood-thirsty, and morally right, enemy that wanted revenge after years of being beaten and robbed of their lands. It was his duty to defend his Emperor despite that fact, and in spite of his sympathies for them. Bad enough that he had to be involved; he didn’t want her to have any part in it.

“See?”

“Mulan, I want you to take it easy. You deserve to be pampered and cared for, not to work hard…”

“I don’t want to be pampered and waited on like some soft, faint-hearted old woman,” she protested. “It’s not even healthy…”

“I’ve made my decision,” he cut her off firmly. “You’re not going to battle with me…”

“Your decision?”

“I am the man of…” he trailed off immediately as he watched her eyes narrow dangerously in fury at that. Another mistake.

Shang remained quiet, allowing her to calm down. Well, at least a little.

“You can’t decide for me,” she finally told him, the anger lurking underneath the surface of her deceptively calm tone.

“But I can refuse to let you into my camp.”

She looked wounded. “You would do that?” she whispered, clearly hurt by the idea.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, Mulan. I’m thinking about your safety…”

With a pout still in place she turned and stalked away in a huff.

“Mulan,” he pleaded, following after her. His imploring tone made her stop in her tracks and he caught up to her. “I’m not doing this because I don’t want you near me. Being away from you will be the most difficult…And you’re an excellent warrior. But I love you and I would rather that you remained home safe. I don’t want anything to happen to you. Whatever happens to me, I want to know that you’re alright.”

He placed strong hands on her shoulders and she allowed him to gently turn her around to face him.

“Please, Mulan. Don’t be angry with me.”

With a sigh she relented and allowed him to kiss her, still sulking so that he wouldn’t believe he’d won so easily. However short-sighted they were, she knew that his decisions were made in what he thought was her best interest. But she was somewhat insulted that he gave her so little credit. Did he not know that she was painfully aware of the nature of the war they were about to get themselves into? That the enemy was in the right and they were in the wrong?

She would leave the argument where it was for now, allowing him to think that he’d had the final say. But she couldn’t bear the thought of being home idle while he was out fighting, wondering if he would return. And she needed to be there for him when he was torturing himself over the moral right of attacking an enemy that was standing up for themselves, for things that had been stolen from them. Her husband let things like that eat at him, allowing the enemy a small revenge in his own way by taking on their pain and guilt that belonged to someone else.

After he was gone, she would disguise herself as a man again and report to his camp as she’d planned.

Title: Searching
Author: lightbird
Prompt: 3/13/07, where?
Fandom: Mulan
Disclaimer: Mulan and everything from the Disney movie belongs to Disney.

*******

Mulan was beside herself with grief and anxiety as she traveled west with the caravan of searchers. Their mission was to find the Emperor’s lost general and his troops. But she feared that Shang was either gone forever or he didn’t wish to be found.

Her heart sank and her throat clenched when she considered that possibility, but she didn’t want to believe it. His death would be less painful than the knowledge that he’d intentionally abandoned her. The thought that maybe he no longer loved her broke her heart; and if her husband had indeed left her, the shame and dishonor that would stain her would be unbearable.

Did he remember the love and happiness that they’d had together for too short a time before he was ripped away from her again, sent off to unknown lands in the west by the Emperor? Or had too much time past?

Shang had been assigned to patrol the western border, specifically a strategic area of the Silk Road. In the name of the country’s security and safety Imperial troops had been sent to oversee that area, to control the influx of strangers from unfamiliar lands beyond the border. Strangers who, in groups, could present a threat.

She knew better. It was all about money and acquisition. Whoever controlled the Silk Road controlled all trade and commerce. Had Shang been drawn into that web of greed? He’d been a man of such strong character, honorable to a fault.

After months and on a blazing summer day they finally reached the troops’ last known position; but found no sign that the Emperor’s army had ever been there. There weren’t even corpses or signs that graves had been dug. No evidence of a struggle, no sign of an enemy. What had happened to everyone? And where were they? Where was Shang?

They made camp and prepared to stay for some time. Inquiries would have to be made and they would need to search in the surrounding area, perhaps even venturing across the border.

Tormented by her thoughts and feeling ill, Mulan lay awake all that night wondering where her husband was and what had happened to him. No matter how many years had gone by, she couldn’t forget. She would never stop loving him.

But it seemed that she’d lost him, all for the sake of money. Greed seemed to have won out over love.

In the dark she wept silently.

Title: Meaning
Author: lightbird
Prompt: 3/6/07, wind
Fandom: Mulan
Disclaimer: Mulan and everything from the Disney movie belongs to Disney.

*******

The sound of the howling wind, the feel of it whipping his face, those were the only things that he was aware of as he stared numbly at his father’s helmet. His soldier had brought it to him after scouting the valley of fallen soldiers.

General Li knew what it was to live a soldier’s life, to be willing to die for his Emperor and for the safety of his country. And for honor. If he knew this would be his end, a death in battle, he would have been happy. He would consider it a death with meaning.

But as Li Shang thought of the bloody, broken bodies that lay out there in the snow, he couldn’t believe that it was a death with meaning. All of these deaths were empty. The village that they had been protecting was destroyed, none of its citizens spared. His father’s army had failed. And the Huns would be marching on toward the Imperial City, slowed perhaps but as strong as ever. Meaningless.

He couldn’t feel his legs as he walked toward the edge of the bluff, his eyes still pinned to the helmet; he was only vaguely aware of the wind lifting his red cape behind him. Unsheathing his sword he stuck it into the snow so that it stood upright and placed the helmet on it, then knelt before it and prayed silently, a last honor to the general before he led the troops onward to stop the Huns.

It was so cold here. His father deserved better than this.

Title: An Amazing Adventure
Author/Artist: lightbird
Characters: Helga, Gerald
Rating: PG
Prompt: Set 4, Prompt C, left behind
Word Count: 805
Summary: Helga’s life took an unexpected turn.
Disclaimer: Hey Arnold belongs to Craig Bartlett. I make no money from this fanwork.

---

A long time ago, in the fourth grade, there was nothing she wanted more than to spend her life with Arnold. In her vision, they were soul mates and would travel around the world together before they settled down to a life of marital bliss. Of course she couldn’t let him know it then. Her love for him was her deepest, most personal secret, so much so that she’d tormented and bullied him to convince him that the opposite was true.

So, it was with irony and amusement that she looked back on those days as she sipped her galão at an outdoor café table on the pedestrian walkway Rua dos Correeiros and wrote in her notebook. Lisbon was the last stop on a year-long trip around the world before returning home and a time of her life that she would never forget. Arnold, who she considered a dear friend now, wasn’t with her; he was back at home. He’d always felt connected to their neighborhood and had decided to stay there to ensure that nothing bad happened to it, that the nostalgia and history of the place was preserved.

Same naïve, optimistic old football head, she thought with a wry smile.

When she returned to the states she would peruse the pink notebooks full of her thoughts and impressions and experiences of the whirlwind trip. Writing was one of her many talents; maybe the narratives in her multi-volume journal could be pulled together into a travel essay book. After all, it was full of colorful characters that they’d met along the way and exciting adventures. Even the bad experiences had lessons to offer.

She’d been sending them home as she filled them up and buying new blank ones; the pink notebook that she wrote in now was number twenty.

Helga looked up from her writing and glanced at her companion, who sat on the other side of the table sipping his own galão and watching the passersby. Gerald had been the perfect travel partner. Affable and easy-going as he’d always been, he made friends effortlessly wherever he went and was a natural at picking up languages. His presence allowed her to pass safely in countries where foreign women that traveled alone were looked upon strangely, and blonde women were looked upon as if they were a valuable commodity. And his open, amiable and social nature granted them entry into the lives of the people who dwelled in the countries they visited.

Locals opened up to him, invited them into their homes, to meet their families. Joining in a backgammon game with the local men in a village in eastern Turkey, sharing a hookah pipe of tobacco and apple and spices in the Middle East, or watching a soccer game with a group of Portuguese fans in a bar, Gerald embraced what was unique to each culture and the people they met appreciated it. If she’d searched far and wide, she couldn’t have found a more perfect companion. He was as eager as she was to try new things and his gregarious personality opened doors for her that wouldn’t have necessarily been open had she traveled alone.

And yet they allowed each other personal space. Traveling together for so long, they required time apart so they wouldn’t tire of one another. So comfortable was their relationship that either of them could suggest time alone and space from each other, and the other wouldn’t be offended. She enjoyed his company immensely, but she didn’t depend on him; she also valued Helga time.

“You know, I’m gonna miss traveling,” he spoke up as she finished writing and closed her notebook. “Even if I am glad to be going home.”

“Yeah, me too. Being home is going to seem very dull.”

“Of course, I’ll be occupied. Looking for a job, and…I think I’ll take your advice.”

“About?”

“The book. I don’t have the same skill at writing as you, of course.”

“Just write the way you speak. You have your own way of telling the stories that’s unique. It’s what made you the esteemed keeper of the urban tales. Who better to compile them all into a bestselling book? Besides, you’ll have a very tough editor looking it over for you,” she added, pointing to herself.

He grinned. “The toughest. We’re both gonna be busy working on our books. How many notebooks have you filled now?”

“This is number twenty,” she told him, indicating the latest journal. “It’ll take time to edit all of it into something publishable. And then it needs to be accepted by a publisher. But it’s worth a shot.”

“Definitely.”

With a grin she picked up her glass and drained the rest of her coffee.

Who would ever have thought that Gerald Johanssen, Arnold’s best friend, would turn out to be her soul mate?

Title: Gifts
Author/Artist: lightbird
Characters: Brainy, Helga
Rating: PG
Prompt: Set 4, Prompt B, now or never
Word Count: 553
Summary: Takes place during the ending part of the episode Helga on the Couch. Brainy’s point of view.
Disclaimer: Hey Arnold belongs to Craig Bartlett. I make no money from this fanwork.

---

There she was.

She was actually smiling, and for a change she looked genuinely happy as she leaned against the wall and pulled out the locket that she wore around her neck. He liked it when she smiled.

From the archway in the alley Brainy observed her as she gazed at the picture inside the locket and began to passionately speak flowery, emotional poetry like she always did. She had such a way with words; he couldn’t speak with even an eighth of the eloquence that she possessed. Usually his presence just annoyed her and she ended up socking him. He’d come to enjoy that little bit of attention from her, even if it was painful.

Ever since the first time he laid eyes on her in preschool he was drawn to the feisty little girl with blonde pigtails and a pink bow. Fierce, tough, she terrified everyone when she walked through the halls, announcing her presence with loud authority and daring anyone to defy her.

Despite his nickname he didn’t consider himself very bright, and neither did anyone else. In reality, he was considered rather odd. He certainly wasn’t smart enough for her; she was amazing. Awkward and shy, he never knew what to say to most people, especially her, and he’d had bad asthma all of his life, which made him wary of exerting himself too much. All that left him lurking in the shadows, fading into the background and barely noticed, even when he stood out in the open with the others.

But she noticed him. And now was the time to finally approach her. Today she was in a good mood and he had a gift for her. A ring with a fake translucent stone that had a pinkish tint to it that he’d gotten out of the gumball machine. Her favorite color, the one she wore everyday. Placing it inside an empty, transparent salt shaker that he carried around in the event that he found a silkworm or something else that he wanted to collect, he’d been waiting for an opportunity to give it to her.

She whirled around as he stepped out of the archway behind her. Theatrically he held the gift up to show her then placed it in her hand, the one she usually punched him with.

Helga stared at it for a moment then tossed it away.

“Look, Brainy, this is just weird. How is it that you’re behind me again? How did you get inside this arch? Were you waiting for me in this alleyway? What’s your deal?”

As usual she left him speechless and he just stared at her.

After a moment she put an arm around his shoulder and began to lead him out of the alleyway toward the street, speaking to him in a patient voice.

“Okay, I’m not going to hit you this time,” she told him, a gracious smile on her face. “This one’s for free. Today I’m feeling generous. But tomorrow? Look out.”

She patted his cheek as she said that last sentence then turned and marched off down the street determinedly, head held high.

He smiled as he watched her go and his own hand involuntarily went up to cover that part of skin where her hand had been, savoring the feel of her fleeting touch.

Title: Badlands
Author/Artist: lightbird
Characters: Helga Pataki
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Set 3, Prompt E, on the road again
Word Count: 894
Summary: Helga-centric future fic
Warnings: Weirdness. I wasn’t completely happy with this one, but I wanted to prompt something for Set 3. Not beta’d and needs work still.
Disclaimer: Hey Arnold belongs to Craig Bartlett. I make no money from this fanwork.

---

In twenty-four hours he would be getting married. Arnold, the boy that she’d obsessed over through all of her childhood, ever since she was in preschool, was tying the knot. It was going to be an evening wedding, a black tie affair held at one of the city’s catering halls. Black tie and tails for the men, gowns for the women. The newlyweds would be returning to the boarding house after their honeymoon, she’d heard. Arnold had renovated it almost single-handedly after his grandparents had passed on, and the couple had apparently agreed with each other that this neighborhood would be a great one to raise children in.

Perched on the front hood of her car, she sighed ruefully and gazed up at the stars, debating whether to stick around for one more night or just leave. Coming home during this trip had been a mistake; she should have realized it would be and driven straight on to South Dakota and the Badlands.

Phoebe was the one to break the news to her when they met in town, trepidation in her demeanor as she dropped the bombshell. Though they hadn’t ever spoken of it, Helga knew that her childhood friend had long ago figured out the truth about how she’d felt about Arnold, at least as far back as when they were nine years old.

There was a time when seeing him made a lonely, grey and disappointing life worth living. Filling book after book with poems about him, building likenesses of him in her closet, all this kept her occupied and prevented her from thinking about the more depressing things in her life.

When she entered high school something changed inside of her. She became involved with a new group of kids. She still filled book after book with poems and writings, an outlet for the strong, deep emotions inside of her that needed to get out somehow. But she had begun to notice, and fancy, other boys, and little by little the feeling that Arnold was the only one she could ever be with faded. They became friends sort of, talking easily when their paths crossed or when they had classes together. The fighting and bitterness had left her.

It shouldn’t matter anymore.

Helga took a deep breath and attempted to push aside an emptiness inside of her that made her heart ache. After so much time, why was news of his impending marriage affecting her in this way?

She’d had her share of boyfriends at this point. Granted, her relationships, for lack of a better word, never lasted for very long. A big part of that was her fault, she knew. She always made foolish choices and, afraid of being rejected and hurt, she became mean and defensive, lashing out at her lovers first, leaving them before they had a chance to do it to her. But then she’d always been that way; it was how she’d learned to be strong in the world and not get hurt.

Just one more night here, she pondered. She could meet with Phoebe again if her friend was free. After all they didn’t get to see each other very much even though they’d kept in touch through college and beyond. Then tomorrow evening she could walk by the catering hall, see if she could get a glimpse of Arnold. It had been a few years since she’d seen him. She wondered if he looked the same. And she couldn’t help but be curious; who had won his heart?

Seeing would answer her questions, but she feared that it would also stir emotions that she didn’t want to feel just yet, not when she was in such close proximity to her childhood home, to him. Besides, she wasn’t that nine-year-old girl anymore. No longer did she lurk in the shadows, secretly watching a boy that captured her mind and soul.

Her mind made up, she slid off of the car and landed softly on sneakered feet. Reaching into the pocket of her denim jacket and withdrawing the car keys she took one last look up and down the block where she had played stickball and touch football with Arnold and the gang. Then she opened the door and slid into the driver side of the car.

As she slammed the door and gazed through the front window she started as she glimpsed a familiar silhouette.

Arnold?

The figure stood on the top stoop in front of one of the brownstones along this street. She sat frozen, breath held, watching. It wasn’t the boarding house that he stood in front of; she didn’t know who lived in that building. Maybe someone who was throwing him a bachelor party. Or his fiancé.

Looking down quickly, she eased the key into the ignition and started the car. As she shifted the gear into drive and looked to see if there was traffic coming she saw out of the corner of her eye that the figure still stood outside. She switched on the radio, turning up the volume so that the gritty rock music blared inside the car. Pulling out and making an easy U-turn she drove off in the other direction.

Her mood lifted somewhat as she left the city limits behind and the image of the familiar silhouette that she’d seen faded from her mind. And when she reached the Interstate and pressed the gas pedal into the floor, her spirits soared.

She was free again.

Title: Departed
Author: lightbird
Prompt: 2/23/07, yellow
Fandom: Mulan
Pairing: Shang/Mulan
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Mulan and everything from the Disney movie belongs to Disney. I make no money from this fanwork.

*******

He was passing through farm land now, an oasis in the middle of the barren desert. Fields of bright yellow flowers along the road reminded him of the day he’d given Mulan the news that he had to leave. She’d come in from the garden, a bouquet of yellow tulips clasped in her hands. The sight of the petals that fell to the floor softly from the force with which she tightened her grip on the delicate flowers gave away to him how distressed she was.

General Li Shang should have returned home a year ago. His assignment had been to accompany a general of the newly empowered Emperor to the western ends of the Middle Kingdom. The troops had been stuck in the middle of a desert, surrounded by majestic yellow dunes and subject to harsh heat and winds, embroiled in a never ending battle to maintain Chinese control over trade along the Silk Road. And he’d been wounded and sick.

Her features were still etched into his memory, even after all this time. He remembered each and every one of her smiles; the shy one that had been in place when they fell on the ground together in front of the palace after she saved the Emperor, the sweet, easy one that she’d given him when she invited him to dinner, the adoring one that he’d seen on their wedding night. And he remembered her scent, like flowers. In his dreams he could still reach out and touch her, caress her soft skin again.

When the Emperor called him away into service again it was only supposed to be for a few months. No one foresaw how fierce the battle for control of the Silk Road would be; once the troops were there, it had been impossible for them to leave. And after he was wounded, he couldn’t have made the journey back through the desert anyway.

Shang sighed, remembering the sad look in his wife’s eyes as she bid him goodbye at the gate, the confident smile that she showed to him a thin disguise of the anguish she felt at his parting. It mirrored the feelings in his own heart.

Very soon he would be home. He only hoped that she hadn’t given up on him.

Title: Baby Proof
Author: lightbird
Prompt: 2/18/07, breakable
Fandom: Mulan
Disclaimer: Mulan and everything from the Disney movie belongs to Disney.

*******

They couldn't move things out of the way fast enough. The lovely china tea set that her mother had given them for their wedding. Li Shang's weaponry, so shiny and pretty, catching their son's eyes immediately. Knives or anything that was pointy.

Little Feng had begun walking earlier than most babies. Endowed with his father's physical strength and hardiness even at the ripe age of one, as well as his mother's quick and sharp intellect and curiosity, the irrepressible toddler explored the world around him like an intrepid adventurer.

Anything in a low drawer was unsafe. Feng loved to pull them open and look inside, pulling out whatever objects might be in there and throwing them on the floor. Shiny things attracted him in particular, like Baba's sword, mounted high on the wall, glinting in the sunlight that streamed in the window. The little boy's dark mischievous eyes darted around and his mother just knew the child was puzzling out the problem of those out of reach objects; she expected that any day she would find him climbing up something to get to those things.

And, of course, anything that was breakable was a coveted prize, especially if it was something that would shatter into sharp shards that could cut his soft skin. Mulan's reflexes had become as quick as a cat's. Too many times to count she'd become involved with a writing or drawing project, forgetting the drained cup that sat beside her hand, too close to the edge of the low table. On those occasions the tiny reaching hand entered the field of her peripheral vision at the last minute, capturing her full attention just in time. The cup was swiftly pushed toward the middle of the table, out of Feng's grasp.

After so many close calls, now on a Sunday during a relished time of peace, Li Shang and Fa Mulan spent the day 'baby proofing' their home, ensuring that every breakable object was out of reach. Fragile things were moved from lower level drawers to higher ones. They took turns watching the baby and searching every nook and cranny, attempting to second-guess anything that their headstrong baby boy might get a hold of - and put in his mouth.

Feng sat on the floor in the room while they worked, playing with a little wooden toy dragon that Shang had made for him in his spare time and babbling animatedly. Every once in awhile he quieted down and his eyes rested on his parents, watching their movements.

"He's probably marking where we've put everything," Shang remarked. He made a funny face at Feng, who laughed with delight and screwed up his face in imitation of his father. "Too smart for everyone's peace of mind."

Title: Stiletto
Fandom: Mulan
Author: lightbird
Prompt: 2/14/07, love is...
Rated: PG-13
Disclaimer: Mulan and anything from the movie belongs to Disney.

*******

Sometimes he hurt her because he knew that he could, because she loved him. He would watch her body stiffen, the pain clear in her eyes as he lashed out, blurting out the sarcastic or cruel remark that he might have held back had he been more secure and less childish about these things.

Everything she did and said mattered to him; she could hurt him with just an angry glance. He loved her painfully. Sometimes it terrified him that she could make him feel so fragile inside, so much that he often forgot that the things he said and did mattered as much to her. She'd nearly given her life to save his at one time, a long time ago it seemed, holding his existence as dear as her own. And the truth was he would give his life for her too, a thousand times over.

Compelled to push her to the limit, to test her, he would snap at her, taking her aback; or offer an unkind word or sarcastic quip here and there, an unexpected jibe that scraped her deepest fears, things that she couldn't keep concealed from him.

One day he watched as she bit her lip after one such remark, fighting back the tears that had begun to pool in her eyes. As always he felt guilt and remorse for hurting her, yet pleased that he still could. Finally she spoke, her voice even and quiet, disarming him.

"I love you, too, Shang."