Fearless (A Mulan Retelling)

Chapter Three

Iris was quiet the next morning as she watched her father struggle to pull out his old suit of chainmail armor. It clinked lightly as Elliot walked it over and laid it face-up on his bed. The both of them surveyed it at the same time. From what Iris could tell, it was still it fairly good condition -mind for the dent in the kneecap, where a heavy weapon had once bludgeoned it inward. She realized that that strike had likely been the one that had hindered Elliot's ability to walk for the rest of his life.

Wiping his forehead, Elliot quickly grabbed his bedpost to steady his legs. He turned his head to his daughter and observed her. She indeed looked beautiful today -wearing a powder blue dress and soft white gloves.

"You know, you look just like your mother in that," he told her, trying to life her spirits. "Very, very beautiful indeed." Iris looked down at her long curls, picking absentmindedly at one of them and thanking him for his kind words. She felt far from pretty today -she felt exhausted and no amount of powder had been able to cover her red and swollen eyes.

He reached over and palmed her shoulder for a second. He began unclasping his armor and readying himself to try it on again for the first time in years. Iris watched as he slowly strapped it on, piece by piece. She'd tried to offer him help, but he continuously refused the assistance. He was indeed intent on doing this all himself -and he did do it all himself. Slowly, but surely, he fit his armor over his frame.

"Well?" Iris asked as he surveyed himself. "Does it still fit?"

"Well enough, I suppose," he grunted, shifting around a few pieces.

By the way it fit him, Iris could tell that he'd lost weight since the last time he'd put it on. She didn't point that out though -as it would have only stressed her father out more than he already was. Iris watched as he struggled to his closet and began rifling through it. A small while later, he pulled out a sword -still in its sheath from where he'd put it away many years before.

After a minute of adjusting it on his swordbelt, Elliot finally stood still, though he was still disgruntled at having to move around so much. "There's good news, you know," he said, trying to console the both of them.

"And that is?"

"I'm leaving tomorrow morning -not tonight," he told her. "I decided that last night. Of course, that means I'm going to have to make faster time when I get on my way. But still, I want to have dinner with you and Renna one last time. I need the rest, too... and so will Gretchen." Gretchen was their family mare, chestnut brown and still relatively young. The horse was a good one, being only slightly temperamental. In the back of her mind, Iris prayed that Gretchen wouldn't act up and injure her father even worse on the way to the camp.

The girl smiled a little at the prospect of having dinner with her father again. "That is good news."

Now, Iris watched as Elliot finally buckled the swordbelt around his waist. When it was secure, her father's fingers grazed over the hilt of his blade. Inwardly, Iris could hardly believe that the same hands that had wiped her tears had used this sword to kill people. After a moment of hesitation, Elliot grasped the handle and quickly yanked the sword out as if he were readying himself for a fight. A small cloud of dust came out with it, to his dismay.

"It's been too long," he murmured to no one in particular.

He used his other hand to rub the edge of the blade. After several moments, he frowned. "Such a dull sword, I'll have to sharpen it before I go to bed tonight."

Iris decided that she'd give him his privacy and left him to his grumbling. Turning the corner, the girl nearly ran right into her aunt -who just sat there, listening to Elliot from the hallway. After Iris managed to not plow over Renna, they met each other's eyes. In her aunt's gaze, Iris saw the exact same fear she'd felt since her father had made his announcement. After a moment, Renna just opened her arms. Iris fell into them immediately, and both of the women drew comfort from the embrace.