Work Text:
There was little that Shan Yu feared and the Chinese army was not one of those things. The Chinese were many, but the Huns, in addition to being numerous, were warriors, trained in the art of war, conquest and plunder.
For months, the Hun army had passed through every Chinese town with little resistance. None of the small armies were a match for them. Shan Yu had fallen into his own arrogance, had considered the battle won before his time, and had lost.
He could recognize a worthy rival when he saw one. And the mountain warrior was worthy of being his rival. He was his, none of the surviving members of his army could fight him, because that boy had dared to face a Shan Yu and had won. If that boy had been from the same tribe as him, now he would be the Shan Yu and as such, his lands, possessions and army would belong to him.
That is why it was so dangerous for another to confront him, it could be seen as a sign of weakness and, if word got out, as it surely would, his members would begin to doubt his strength, his leadership ability and there could be riots within his own army and, if he wasn't careful, within his tribe.
That boy was dangerous. At first glance he might not look like it, being scrawny and reckless, throwing himself into battle against a horde of Huns. His apparent confidence could have him killed at any moment. But it had been a bold move that he, Shan Yu, had been slow to understand. For a moment he had forgotten to watch his surroundings for possible dangers and in his staunch confidence in victory, he had commanded his army to certain death.
It is possible that his pride was wounded and that was what prompted him to search for the mountain warrior. He was not thirsting for revenge for the cruel slaughter of his army. This was war after all and his warriors had died with honor.
He had to admit it. The mountain warrior had balls. And bigger than the captain who led him and the rest of his Chinese army and all the enemies he had killed. Shan Yu had faced men who begged for mercy or burst into tears when defeated.
He was beginning to respect him, even more than the Chinese emperor, because in the Hun tribe you were only a good leader if you went out to fight with your warriors. If a Shan Yu had thought to stay in his lands while his army went to war, his own subjects would have killed him.
No, the emperor was not worthy of his respect. He hadn't defeated him.
Instead, he looked forward to battling the mountain warrior and since his defeat it was the only thing he had been able to think about. He had been surprised not to find it at the celebrations in China. He thought he would find him victorious, strutting, leading what was left of his unit. He felt something twist in his gut at the thought, for an instant that the mountain warrior might be dead. It was the only possible explanation.
The Huns believed that once you found your match, you were united for life. Never out of hatred, but out of respect. Well, nobody knows you better than your enemy or your equal.
Somehow, he did not expect to meet the mountain warrior again. He did not expect her to be a woman, for Chinese women were submissive, they did not go to war and they could not even choose her future husband themselves. In China a woman was nothing. But Hun women were equal to men, they could fight as well or better than they, they were listened to when they spoke and respected on any occasion, because no one had to defend her honor. They defended and fought alone.
That is why he treated the mountain warrior like just another opponent, he did not let her escape or take her out for being a woman. But the girl was fast, agile, and strong. She really was a worthy match for him. Out of the entire Chinese Empire, she was the only one he could give a chance to surrender, the only one he would save once he had conquered the Empire. He would not make her his wife, for someone you treat as your equal should not be forced. He would force her to retire so she couldn't challenge him again. He wanted her to live, because living and knowing that you were the only hope to save the Empire but that you failed and your enemy, now the new emperor, forgives your life, is a punishment worse than death.
Shan Yu had been intrigued by the mountain warrior for days, he wanted to know her name, what her life was, what family She had ... and why She had decided to join the army.
His Hun army members had been taken prisoner and now he was their only hope for victory. But the more he tried to catch the girl, the more complicated it was and Shan Yu realized, to his horror, that the mountain warrior had ambushed him again ... and he had fallen.
Now, being defeated, he could only await his execution. But more than being afraid, he felt honored. His death would come at the hand of someone worthy. And she was a formidable opponent. He wondered, not without some dismay, how in an Empire like China such a beautiful flower had grown. It would be later, when he became a spirit that would remember a very valuable lesson that his parents taught him when he was a child: the flower that grows in adversity is the most beautiful of all.
He couldn't understand then, but he could now. Although nothing mattered anymore.
As a spirit, he would always be with her until she breathed her last. He would not be part of her ancestors, but he would be one of her guardians, as the Hun tradition said. The problem was, he was a Shan Yu and his army was faithful even in death. That is why now, the house of Fa Zhu had a whole horde of ghost Huns camping at ease in the garden, going to where Mulan was or watching over her sleep, whether it was an empress or a chief of some tribe. With the accompanying dragon out of sight, as he had returned to the ancestors of the Fa Zhu family, neither Shan Yu nor the Huns had to worry about being disowned.
As the Hun tradition mandated, she had won a Shan Yu, so she would be venerated by her enemies even in their death, they would watch over her sleep.