Disclaimer: I do not own the movie Mulan, and even if I did, it wouldn't turn out like this. Whew, that's over with.

Author's Note: First off, this little one-shot is HIGHLY out of my comfort zone. If you take a peek at my profile, you'll see that I write in Narnia, and always happy endings. This story—well, not so much.

I sneakily lured my sisters (who hate sad endings) into reading this story—and they pronounced it my worst story ever and "gasped theatrically." Oh, well.

This is my first Mulan fanfic, so 1) please don't get too mad at my mistakes, and 2) let me know what I can fix for the next one! (Other than making it a happy ending!)

"Hold the last cannon!" Captain Shang's voice sounded loud and clear in the eerie silence. The smoke of the cannon lingered over the ridge, masking all sight of the enemy. Ping squinted.

The dim form of a man on horseback could be made out through the smoke. Shan-Yu, Mulan thought. He's alive.

The leader of the Hun army was followed by hundreds and thousands of his men. The very sight of them made even the captain cower in fear.

"Prepare to fight." He turned to his men, determination etched into his face. "If we die, we die with honor."

Mulan watched as her fellow-soldiers drew their swords. All of them were afraid, she realized. Not one of what remained of China's army would live the night.

Shan-Yu shouted and galloped down the slope towards them, his army not far behind. Their dark form dotted the white hillside like an army of ants—ants with swords.

"Yao," the captain ordered, "aim the cannon at Shan-Yu." Mulan, standing behind, could see determination—and martyrdom—etched in every inch of the captain's figure. This would be his first battle—and his last.

The young female soldier looked down, trying to avoid the sight of the butchering that was to come. Her eye caught the view on her sword. After one long look, she had a plan.

She pushed Yao out of the way, running forward with the cannon in hand. This time, she would not suffer dishonor. This time, she would save China.

If she could just get the cannon lighted. Mushu was no help.

"Alright, you might wanna light that right about now. Quickly, quickly!" She could sense that Shan-Yu was coming closer. The hoofbeats of the Hun army began to reverberate on the ground.

Shan-Yu's bird knocked Mulan away from the cannon, but she leaped back forward. This girl hasn't been trained for nothing!

She felt through the snow for a moment, unsuccessfully searching for her lighter. It was nowhere to be found. Mushu would have to do.

She pulled the dragon's tail, essentially using him as a cannon lighter. The cannon shot right where she had planned. The dragon, however, wasn't so certain about that.

"You missed! How could you miss? He was three feet from you!" His voice faded away as the cannon hit into the loose, deep snow of the mountain. Good thing I wasn't aiming at him, Mulan thought.

She looked up at Shan-Yu with a face of determination taught her by the army. He gazed backward, eyes laced with fear as he watched his army swallowed by the relentless snow.

Shan-Yu turned back, determined to kill the man who had caused this.

"Aaah!" He shouted, slicing the boy soldier in the side.

Mulan grabbed the captain's arm as she ran past, trying to ignore the pain in her side. She could feel the blood running down her leg and seeping into her clothing. Running only made it worse.

She leaped up on to her horse as the snow surrounded her. She could see nothing but white—glaring, solid white that surrounded her like a blanket made of rock. Mulan gasped for breath, fought for a hold on anything. The cool snow was a relief on her side, but a moment longer and it would suffocate her.

She broke through the snow—once, and again, battling to keep her hold on the horse. Going against the flow of snow was nearly impossible. Mulan glimpsed the body of her captain far behind her, and turned to save him.

"Shang!" She pulled him up in front of her on the saddle and continued to fight against the current. Seems like I fight against the current all of my life, she thought ruefully.

"Hey, Mulan!" Mushu, always the optimist, fell in beside her, gliding on a shield. "I found the lucky cricket!"

"We need help!" Mulan shouted. As they moved closer to the dropoff, she tried to ignore his frantic cries behind her.

"We're gonna die! We're gonna die! No way we survive this! Death is comin'."

Not if I can help it. She grabbed the arrow that she hoped the men had sent after them. I suppose that means they're alive. At the very last moment, just as they went over the cliff, Mulan felt a steady pull on the rope. They were going to make it after all!

"I knew we could do it!" Mushu was exuberant. "You're the man!" Mulan smiled, but the dragon just had to continue. "Well, sort of."

She could hardly manage to crawl through the snow to the captain's side. Now that they were safe, she could feel the pain grow even worse on her side. Shang's face began to grow blurry, even as he said,

"Ping, you are the craziest man I've ever met." His voice grew softer. "And for that I owe you my life. From now on, you have my trust." She gasped for breath as everything grew dark.

"Let's hear it for Ping, the bravest of us all!"

"You're king of the mountain!"

Mulan could hardly hear the sound of the men's shouts behind her. The captain reached out his hand to help her up, but she hardly managed to stand before she fell again, blood seeping through her armor now.

"Ping! What's wrong?" She gasped again. "He's wounded! Get help!"

Now everything was truly blurry.

"Ping." Shang's voice barely pierced her consciousness. "Hold on. Hold on."

The captain had been pacing back and forth in front of the tent for far too long, his men decided. He needed some rest.

Just as they were about to suggest that he too find himself a tent, the doctor emerged. He waved the captain over, whispered in his ear. The men watched as a look of pain, then surprise, then anger crossed his face.

Shang stepped inside the tent.

Ling tapped his fingers against his knees. No sound could be heard, as far away as they were sitting. He was tempted to chew on his fingernails.

Chi-Fu followed the captain in, holding the drapes far enough apart so that the soldier could see two feet lying motionless on the ground.

"What could be wrong?" He complained. "They should tell us how Ping is!"

"Maybe he's dead." Yao muttered. They were interrupted by the captain running out of the tent.

"Captain!" Ling shouted. "What's wrong?" Their leader turned back, an indescribable look on his face.

"Ping was a girl." The captain's eyes dropped. "And he… she's dead."

The men felt their chins drop. The hero of China was a girl?

Shang sat alone in the snow, his cloak drawn tightly around him. Ping was a girl? The simple boy who had grown to be his best soldier was a girl?

That explained a lot of things. It explained the high-pitched voice, the strange slimness for a young boy. It explained why not a single hair showed itself on his- her chin.

That also explained why she couldn't fight to save a—the captain's brow furrowed in thought. She had fought. She had kicked him well. She had begun to run in front of the entire army. And she was a girl!

"Captain!" Chi-Fu followed after him. Couldn't that man just leave him in peace for a moment?

"Move out!" Shang shouted.

"But…"

"I said, move out!" He picked himself up, both physically and mentally, and walked away. He couldn't sacrifice the emperor's life because he had been beaten by a girl. Ping was dead—in more ways than one.

Mushu stood beside the body that lay still in the cold, snowy ground. They had left her there—not even bothering to bury her.

"I was this close," he muttered, "this close to impressing the ancestors, gettin' the top shelf and entourage… Man! Cricket! What am I thinkin'? Mulan's dead, and I'm thinking about my pedestal! Though it woulda been nice to sit there again." Cricket scolded.

"I know, I know. Well, there ain't much I'm gonna do anywhere else, so I might just stay here and…" he sniffled. "hang out with Mulan!"

The cricket and dragon joined in a loud bawl.

"Make way for the heroes of China!"

Shang had paid little attention to the festivities. Who cared about jugglers and acrobats and paper dragons in their honor? China hadn't been saved by him, it had been saved by a girl!

He forced himself to raise his head, to look at the people about him as though he was the hero, as though he deserved the praise. Chi-Fu was already doing a good job at it.

The drums beat low and hard. Fireworks shot off into the heavens, celebrating a hero of China who wasn't even there. He would never uphold his family's honor.

Sure, all of China would believe him to be their hero, but he would know. He was nothing but a fake, an impostor. Just like she was… he thought glumly.

As they slowly ascended the stairs of the palace, Shang tried to cover his thoughts with the sound of the people celebrating. He came to a stop in front of the emperor.

"My children." The emperor spoke loudly to make his voice heard over the large amount of people in the palace. "Heaven smiles down upon the Middle Kingdom. China will sleep safely tonight, thanks to our brave warriors."

When the bravest one of all is dead. Shang stepped forward, holding the sword in front of him.

"Your majesty, I present to you the sword of Shan-Yu." He bowed, attempting to avoid the emperor's kind gaz.

"I know what this means to you, Captain Li. Your father would have been very proud." The emperor reached out to receive the sword, but it was snatched out of his hands. The people gasped theatrically as Shan-Yu's hawk carried the sword to him.

Captain Shang barely had time to draw his sword before he was attacked and thrown to the ground. The Huns grabbed the emperor and carried him into the castle.

"No!" Shang shouted. His men followed after him, but they were all too late. The emperor was going to die.

The Huns pulled the old man through the castle far faster than he had run in years. His long robe caught on the statue as they passed, but the men paid no heed. He was dragged up to the balcony, where all of China could see his demise, he assumed.

"Boo." That repulsive man, Shan-Yu, slinked down from the roof in a manner intended to frighten the emperor. "Guard the door."

The emperor kept his old face turned firmly forward. He might have been old, but that did not mean he was going to give in.

"Your walls and armies have fallen, and now it's your turn. Bow to me!"

The old man stood straight and firm, watching his captor grow more angry. He would die, but he would die with honor. Shan-Yu continued.

"I tire of your arrogance, old man. Bow to me!"

"No matter how the wind howls, the mountain cannot bow to it." His voice stayed miraculously strong.

"Then you will kneel in pieces!" And he did. The royal blood spilled on the castle floor, dripping down to frighten the people below. Red blood seeped through the golden robe.

Shan-Yu stepped down on the old emperor's body.

"Finally, all China is mine."

Fa Zhou limped up the snowy mountainside. He had one last mission to accomplish, then he could die in peace. No good soldier of China could live with a Hun as his master.

He caught sight of one foot, barely sticking out of the blowing snow.

"Mulan!" He shouted and limped forward. The crying father fell to the ground beside the body of his daughter, and frantically dug. He finally uncovered her face—a face set in peace, though it was the face of a man.

She had finally found her purpose, her place. Clasped in her frozen hands was a little red dragon and a tiny, decaying cricket. Fa Zhou recognized that dragon.

"Even the ancestors couldn't help you, Mulan." The father lay down at his daughter's side. "Still, the greatest gift and honor was having you for a daughter."

When the sun rose the next morning, all it saw was the snow-covered bodies of an old man and the would-be hero of China—a girl named Mulan.

*Sniffles* Anyone else need a tissue?