madimpossibledreamer | Patience: A Xiahou Dun Character Study

Occasionally when figuring out how to write characters, I wish people would write things like this. I don't copy other's conceptions of characters, but it helps me figure out how others view them, gives me ideas, starts me on the path. A glimpse of someone else's vision suddenly makes my ideas much clearer. (Specifically, I'd like to know how to write a character showing up in SS, but as I'm gathering, most people hated the flatness of the character, so nobody's bothered.)
I really like the simple elegance, or whatever. It's not my usual style, but I like it. There's a lot of references, and the story draws from historical and the novel and maybe Red Cliff, for Cao Cao's appearances anyway, because I still have yet to figure out where Xiahou Dun was supposed to appear in that, and Dynasty Warriors of course.
On another note, has anyone seen the Wei music video to a song called Empire? I found it a couple years ago and now it's MIA, which is sad because I liked it and hadn't yet put it in a playlist. I think it started with Zhang Liao... and of course, DW:Empires doesn't help the search.
EDIT: Oops. Maybe I'll include the thing about style names here. You can look up the long version on your own, but the short version is that they're kind of like Chinese nicknames, so most don't use them for each other unless they're close.
Cao Cao = Mengde
Xiahou Dun = Yuanrang
Zhuge Liang = Kong Ming

Main Points:
Xiahou Dun character study
Summary: A look at Xiahou Dun's character, including why he's a much more patient man than he appears.
Word Count: 2,419
Rating: T? (Nothing except the promise of danger, but this is Xiahou Dun.

Xiahou Dun can be a patient man. This comes as a surprise to many. They see the warrior with the wolfish smile charging in with his cavalry and tearing through the opposition.

Most don’t see his patient side because quite frankly in the general’s opinion they aren’t worth it. They’d be shocked to see him playing Go with Cao Cao himself, concentrating and actually taking the game seriously. He plays despite the fact he never wins. Cao Cao understands him too well, can predict his strategies, but still he plays, with the hope that someday he might win. Mengde might be the only one capable of reading him to this extent, but he doesn’t test himself against anyone else. The narrowed lone eye (in the past, narrowed eyes) could be misconstrued as a glare, especially given the fact that the man rarely smiles. His repertoire includes wolfish grins and sardonic smiles, but a genuine happy smile only rarely makes an appearance, like the exotic orange moon. Even then, it tends to retain an ironic twist.

Perhaps this plays into the fact that Xiahou Dun is an intensely private man. He doesn’t like to talk about himself; prefers, indeed, to keep all but a few words to himself. He looks with scorn on all those who serve as a constant font of words, particularly if the words are empty. Bluster is for the weak.

Yuan can read him a little. He’s the only one from whom Dun accepts the talkativeness. He, and the other relatives. Xiahou Dun’s loyalty to family extends to its youngest members, even the talkative ones, and for all his growly nature he’s actually good with the children. He’d only really see them in the Capitol; few were allowed to accompany them on campaigns. Here and there on their travels they’d run into one of Cao Cao’s wives and sons or daughters, those that preferred to continue their lives relatively uninterrupted. Most would be even more shocked at the doting that the so-called heartless Cao Cao heaps upon his scores of children, let alone a smiling Dun leaning against something nearby with a watchful eye and a softer expression.

At a soft request from either cousin or from one of the children, he can be persuaded to join in. He’s capable of telling the children no, if necessary, but it’s much harder to say no to his lord, and Cao Cao knows it. Mengde is not above taking advantage of the weakness, and Xiahou Dun allows it like an indulgent uncle. It’s in Cao Cao’s nature to seek out and exploit openings to further his extensive ambitions, and in Dun’s to display absolute loyalty to his lord. That’s not to say that Yuanrang is afraid of telling his cousin things the warlord doesn’t want to hear. That’s just as ridiculous as the warlord being afraid his pet wolf will bite him. Dun can be brash, and dares anything. It’s something deeper, something more intangible.

He’ll voice complaints if he thinks Cao Cao hasn’t taken them into account, if Mengde is being as reckless as he himself is, sometimes. When the tables are turned and he’s the one reacting too impatiently, he has faith that Cao Cao will rein him in.

There’s that word again. Patience. Xiahou Dun can be patient. In stalking prey, for example, he is quiet and calm and not itching for action like his cousin Yuan. With Cao Cao, he can be patient, but that’s generally the only way to get anything out of Mengde, who is often as close with his thoughts as Dun himself. He is patient with Yuan, who is generally only given a free pass because he is family. He is patient with other family, the children, and, again surprising for others, his army. As a general, he commands an army. It’s generally smaller than most, largely because most don’t meet his rigorous standards. If they pass, though, he’s hard on them, but he’s patient. He’ll use drills until recruits are about ready to collapse, then give them a lavish feast. They’ll be asked about the One-Eyed General, horror stories that others will tell, and Dun’s soldiers will just smile. They know that it’s not quite the same as being family, but it’s as close as they’ll get. That these extreme measures keep them alive. Fewer of them die than the other soldiers, and that’s enough to justify the harsh measures taken. As long as they’re trying, as long as there’s improvement, Xiahou Dun is patient.

He can even be patient in battle, can listen to strategies and offer ones of his own. When his famous temper is not in play, Dun is calm and collected.

Most think Xiahou Dun is a rabid wolf, only kept in check by his devotion to Cao Cao. It takes a Sleeping Dragon to recognize another. The wolf metaphor is apt, true, but for most it doesn’t communicate that, for the most part, Dun is calm. He enjoys hunting, beasts or men, and his growls and bared teeth are not empty threats—if pushed, he’ll happily show you his fang before sinking it into you. For those that back up, especially those that do so in a manner not that of fear, but out of respect, he spares an amused smile, perhaps even respectful should they respect him in turn. They remind him of Mengde. Perhaps they’re so fond of each other because they intimidate everyone else, so it’s nice to find someone who understands what they’re capable of and yet does not feel uncomfortable in their presence.

The difference is that most think Xiahou Dun is a raging animal, one wrong word away from a skewering, or being slashed to pieces.

Kong Ming, that infernal strategist, knows better. Knows that this is farther from the truth than one might expect. Zhuge Liang knows that, yes, the One-Eyed General’s temper is closer to the surface, easier to provoke, quicker to spot, than his own, but a special touch is required to call that temper to a searing heat that consumes all in its path. It can simmer at lower levels, a cold fury that allows Dun to think, to react rationally, and when Zhuge Liang used his fire stratagem on the mountain, that was exactly the state that the Sleeping Dragon could not allow. An angry, intelligent wolf able to react is much more dangerous than a wounded, rampaging wolf.

Zhang Fei may roar that uneducated ruffians like Xiahou Dun are no challenge, but Zhuge Liang knows better. The One-Eyed General’s knowledge of Sun Tzu, poetry, music may be flawed. (Zhang Fei’s own patience with writing would probably also astonish many, but then, they haven’t seen him practicing calligraphy between battles. It’s not perfect. The general often gets frustrated, and it’s not unusual to hear him roaring away inside a tent at a particular character that doesn’t want to cooperate with his handwriting. Privately, Kong Ming thinks they all believe it helps the gruff, bearded general greatly, but none would say it to his face. That’s a story for another time, however.) That does not mean Dun’s soul is uncultured. He’ll listen when Cao Cao calls in musicians, watch when his cousin calls in dancers, which is often. It’s partially Mengde’s appreciation of the arts, and partially a fulfillment of his desires. Cao Cao is nothing if not ruthlessly efficient. Most see a cold man a robot without feeling, but Dun understands this is not true, just as Mengde recognizes his cousin is more than just the image of the slavering wolf most see. Cao Cao’s ambitions are seemingly without bound, and Xiahou Dun practically exists to make them a reality.

He believes, unlike many, that his cousin’s schemes truly have an end—one that Mengde only sees. Equally, he believes that his lord knows what he’s doing and they’re not in a place to question him. He’s seen the man play Go, after all. Only rarely does Cao Cao make a mistake, not prepare for every eventuality. It’s up to him and the other generals to look for the weaknesses and, if Cao Cao doesn’t seem to have noticed them, to mention their existence. It’s not the same thing as questioning. If Mengde has an answer, or doesn’t look surprised, then it’s clear that it’s not something to be concerned about. Some continue after they’ve gotten their answer, and, well. He has no patience for that. Their lord practices on him, after all. He’s perfectly capable of thinking seven steps ahead of everyone else, and counter-planning for every contingency. Sometimes, as with the other relatives, anger can get the best of Mengde, but they’re here for that reason, after all. The Hero of Chaos could accomplish much less alone. When Cao Cao’s calm, his planning is far-seeing. Others are capable of the same kind of serpentine thinking, and he has yet to test their strength in Go, but he has faith in the Hero of Chaos.

If his cousin shows a failing, it’s his ambition to be lord of all the best generals in the land. Cao Cao, in Yuanrang’s opinion, trusts generals too quickly if they could be of use without questioning their motives. Xiahou Dun is a suspicious man by nature. He has patience to keep a careful eye on new blood, but until they prove themselves, they’re to be held at arm’s length. For example, Guan Yu. Anyone, even a man with just one eye, can see where the warrior’s loyalties lie. The only thing that keeps him in Wei’s camp is a sense of honor, but it could be easy for conflicting honor and loyalty to prove fatal to his cousin. Part of this may be a sense of jealousy. Xiahou Dun is not a prideful man, but he has pride in his position by the side of his lord, in his abilities as a warrior, in his bloodline. Without his purpose, he is nothing, so perhaps it is understandable that anything threatening his place in bringing to life Mengde’s ambitions is sensed as a threat to Yuanrang himself. He is otherwise not prone to jealousy or greed or, indeed, other types of selfishness. He lives to serve his lord, after all.

Similarly, he has no patience for the nickname “Blind Xiahou”, nor is he fond of his one-eyed reflection. It’s a reminder of weakness, and he has no patience for his own weakness. If he is useless, he has no place. When his lord’s vision is finally a reality he can rest, but not before then. Perhaps he will sleep, and play Go with his cousin, and shoot bows for leisure, just to please Yuan (the bow is definitely not his weapon).

If it’s useful, he’ll actually spend the time trying to learn it. Xiahou Dun is a practical man. He can see the place for the arts, for culture, but they’re not always the most pressing in a time of war. He has nothing but respect for teachers and the intelligent (unless they seem to insistently be opposed to his lord or are trying to lengthen the period of chaos). He’ll listen to tutors brought in, to Yuan’s surprise and Cao Cao’s amusement, but it’s rare he has the time for such. None, of course, will match up to his teacher of childhood, but it’s been a long time.

Most would be surprised to learn that he’s mellowed as he’s aged, that he’s learned to not let his heart rule his head. It’s somewhat less that he’ll resort to violence at any moment, and more that he’s not afraid of it. There’s very little he’s afraid of, really, other than being useless or being replaced. He’s not afraid of death, but with a stubborn practicality he refuses to do so when other options are available. After all, Cao Cao needs him.

Another personality trait that doesn’t fit his popular image is his sense of honor. He’s practical, yes, but at the same time, setting fields on fire just so that other soldiers can’t get sustenance from them is an abhorrent thought. He won’t go out of his way to give enemy soldiers chances just so battles can be ‘fair’. A sheer difference of skill just exists in some cases. But he’s not the type to stab someone in the back without fair warning. Retreats are acceptable, though they will leave him grinding his teeth for a while. Allies are to be honored, enemies to be hated. Those who kill friends or allies are not to be forgiven. Xiahou Dun is the type to bury even a hated enemy, showing it the respect that any human being deserves, personal feelings aside.

If any were brave enough to ask him to describe himself, he’d snort and mutter something about having too much time on one’s hands. It’s hard to predict the exact words he’d use, but on the whole he thinks of himself as a simple man. Most would agree, until they learned of all the ways in which he doesn’t match the common conception of the one-eyed wolf, at which point they’d stare, wide-eyed, and question how ‘simple’ could ever be used as a descriptor for Xiahou Dun. He’s blunt, genuine, honest. He’s always been unapologetically himself, refuses to change just to make others more comfortable. He rarely indulges, prefers instead to live a relatively simple life and give money to his soldiers and the civilians in his care, for he’s seen how they suffer in this time of chaos. Simplicity in lifestyle is as much comfort as it is discipline. His fights are straightforward. He is honorable. His loyalty to his family is ignored by the gossips and storytellers, but it’s equally, fiercely as strong as the warriors of the Peach Garden Oath. He cares for the common people, especially those under his care, but they will never rank the same as his family. He is practical, without the flair of many of the other warriors of the times. If his words are necessary, he won’t hesitate to use them, just as he will not hesitate to draw his sword when needed. He dedicates himself to his role as a warrior simply because that is what Cao Cao requires for his ambitions. His only fear is being unable to fulfill his part. He is patient for important or necessary things, and those things that are neither important nor necessary can be ignored or impatiently, quickly dealt with.