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It's already dark when Mongolia decided that tonight would be another one of those nights when she’d terrorise China by being as annoying as possible. She just couldn't help herself, surely with China's age the bitterness of defeat wasn't at all an unfamiliar taste?
She wondered if China was always such a sore, sorry loser or if there was something special about her that just made China's temper short-circuit. In fact she expressed this sentiment to China herself, only to be told that there was absolutely nothing about her that could be boasted as special, and that she was just like her uncouth predecessors who would also succumb to the sands of time. Or some poetic pretentious garbage that was along those lines anyways. Always so charming.
Sauntering her way through the corridors, she sheepishly adjusted her Boqta. The strings of pearl that hung from the hat as an ornamental frame for her face jostled against each other, creating a soft clatter with each movement. Mongolia was quite pleased with the recent commissioning of this hat - it stood taller compared to her previous one, and the way in which the jewels were beaded against the sleek red silk surface was far more meticulous. It also gave the illusion of China being much shorter to her than she already was, which she could hardly contain her glee about.
Arriving at the door of China's bedroom, she was greeted by two guards who she simply waved off as she knocked firmly on her door. Those guards only answered to her and her superiors after all, and were there more to guard China's movements than guard China from danger. Though, the face value acts of kindness came in handy when China's courtiers would start yapping about so-called (actual) mistreatment.
As she waited outside the patterned doors for an affirmative, she planted her hands firmly on her hips. Though her features sat neutrally on her face, there was an obnoxious sense of defiance about her; head tilted ever so slightly upwards, eye's set at a half mast, yesterday's alcohol still lingering in her system.
Thinking back to her leisurely stroll to the room, she had to stop herself from snorting at the recollection of the disgusted faces pulled at her from China's courtiers as she walked past them. Their sunken eyes and sallow skin only amplified their hideous reactions to her, it was as if the stress of every problem the Mongols caused them the past few decades were etched permanently onto their faces. Even when trying to conceal their blatant distaste for her people, it would rear its ugly head through gritted teeth and low whispers.
They'll learn, eventually.
The door was pulled open with a laggard reluctance.
“What," China deadpanned, seriously not impressed with the fact that Mongolia had decided to disturb her. Mongolia - who usually bubbled with a myriad of remarks and jabs, decided that she'd play the diplomat.
“I was just checking up on you after the meetings today - how did you find them?"
"Fuck off and go to sleep or something, or get drunk, whatever you do at this time of night", China spat, though she knew this would do nothing to get Mongolia off her back. She released an exasperated sigh, turning to make her way back into the bedroom, fully expecting Mongolia to follow her in.
..And so she did. Mongolia strolled into her room, opening her mouth to usher another mocking attempt at being polite when her voice cut dead in her throat. What was...
“What's this?", she asked, a genuine curiosity in her voice. In her hand she gripped a circular container. China had to stop herself from lunging at the other woman.
"That-" she stamped her way towards Mongolia, snatching it out of her hand, "is my powder. Don’t touch it. Or anything on my dresser for that matter. You've already taken enough from me,"
“Oh please”, Mongolia drawled, her act of nonchalance only thinly veiling the seething annoyance underneath, "Don't you get tired of complaining all the time?"
China stepped in front of Mongolia to obstruct her from tampering with her products further, the surfaces clanking together as she organised them like she usually did. To her dismay this only seemed to interest Mongolia further.
"Why do you even need so many - what do you use them all for? This looks like it could be shared between ten other women,” she jibed, not seriously in the belief that ten other women could share the products between themselves. Five perhaps.
"They're to maintain youth and beauty, a concept you and your ilk cannot seem to grasp," she quipped. In the little time that they've spent living together, Mongolia had already proven herself to be the most annoying of her predecessors. She'd be impressed if it wasn't her who was facing the brunt of this behaviour.
A shit-faced grin was spread across Mongolia's face, "Again - I don't know why you need so many,” she quirked her head and squinted at China's face as if to truly study the other woman's appearance before releasing her grand conclusion,
“They're not exactly making you look any younger."
Mongolia's words froze China in a silent fury. Her knuckles ran white due to the strength of her clench, and it shook erratically as if all of her desire to whip around and sock Mongolia in the nose was concentrated in that fist.
"I'm not taking beauty advice from someone who wears a hat as gaudy as that around." she jabbed. She made her way to the small table that stood at the centre of her room, night gown brushing against the tassels of the cloth that covered it and pulling a chair out.
"Sit." A short, but firm command.
Taken aback by the rather peculiar change of tone, Mongolia obliged. Maybe tonight was going to have more fun in store than she originally thought? She decided not to ogle China this time as she walked behind her, making her way into one of the far corners of the room, obviously trying to fish something out. This was going to be a surprise.
After a few minutes, she could feel China's presence re-emerge, and she dropped something on the table in front of her with a metallic thud.
A lone praying mantis occupied the inside of the bronze cage that China had placed in front of her. Mongolia watched on in muted amusement as the creature sluggishly raised its limbs.
“You're a freak for keeping this thing in your bedroom, you know.” she ribbed.
China's face remained expressionless at Mongolia's insult as she picked up a slim brush. She used it to delicately prod at the insect, its jagged arm moving brusquely in an attempt to hack at the foreign object.
"When a clutch of mantis eggs hatch" she started in an almost hushed, dulcet tone.
"The nymphs often flee."
Her eyes met Mongolias, noticing how a puzzled look briefly flashed itself upon the younger woman's face before she returned to the spectacle she was displaying on the table. Carefully, she goaded the insect onto the brush, placing it between them and using her other arm to gently sweep the cage out of the way.
"But when kept in captivity" she gave a slight flick at the insect for emphasis.
"War breaks loose, and it's only a matter of time until one emerges victorious."
A loud snort interrupted the monotonous spiel, and China's eyes sunk in disapproval at the distasteful sneer that sat curled at the corner of Mongolia's lip.
"What the hell is this?" she scoffed, arms crossed stubbornly across her chest. She'd just about had enough of China speaking in poetics in some sad attempt to one up her.
Despite Mongolia's obvious resistance, she persisted.
"The mantis is revered in my nation, studied for its fighting ability. Steady, calculated-"
Her voice suddenly dropped an octave, mask of composure cracking.
"And patient."
She promptly placed the paintbrush down on the table, eyes locked onto Mongolia's in steady anger.
"You may liken yourself to this mantis - girl, fighting amongst others of your kind" she spat, voice now dripping with malice.
"But you lack the patience that more sophisticated societies have mastered - centuries before your arrival. You're no different from any other steppe barbarian I've dealt with - mere waves against a rock."
In front of her, Mongolia's face was twisted in fury. Her eyes glowered dangerously over China.
"You're nothing special" China continued, and with resignation rather than spite, she added,
"As I've said before. There were many others like you. You simply lived past them."
If she wasn't already so tired from the work she'd done that day , Mongolia would have been tempted to backhand the messenger of this patronising speech. Oh how desperately she wanted to see the pale flesh of China's cheek weep red in pain!
"Do you want to know what I make of that?". She controlled the yell that was so badly trying to rip itself from her throat.
She scanned China's features, hoping for the slightest twitch of fear to cross her face.
Nothing.
The Mongol raised a clenched fist, and brought it down - hard.
A repulsive squelch broke the silence that sat between them. China grimaced.
Mongolia, now pleased with herself upon eliciting a reaction from China, bit back a groan of disgust as she wiped her hand on the table.
"Another lecture like that, and a mantis won't be the only thing that will be crushed." She stood, looking over China somewhat wantonly, eyes glazing over the way the fabric of China's nightgown covered the peaks of her body with an expression that could only be read as disappointed.
With that, she made her exit, leaving China alone to lament over the mangled remains.