Inconceivable

Inu no Taisho groaned, pulling the silk sheets over his swimming head. If his skull weren't still in one piece he could have sworn a thunder oni had taken a sledgehammer to it. He closed his eyes only to have light explode under the lids. Gods, he felt like the world's worst wretch!

Futilely, the Dog General tried to remember was earned him such penance. Sitting up, his eyes wandered around the room, strewn sake gourds slurred their testimony. Of course; rebuff one wave of invading Mainlanders and suddenly he was ruler of the known world. No amount of alcohol would have him.

He flopped back down, cursing softly with feeling.

The Western Lord had only been royally drunk once and he didn't make of habit of repeating the past. Headaches and paparazzi weren't worth it. After that first night everyone in his domain was panting to know who'd been the woman lucky enough to bear the Dog General's pup, his future heir. He had been able to silence wagging tongues with cutting denial until one of the spotlighted females turned up pregnant. She milked her damn gestation for all it was worth, playing on his better nature while the entire time he was assailed with everything from propositioned marriage dates to inquiries of the child's name. Fortunately, the whelp not only bore no resemblance but also had a completely different sire. Recalling the scales, it must have been some dragon creature. Also, the infant had been a girl. Not that it mattered, but it allowed the gossip-mongers to lose interest all the more quickly – the offspring was unfit.

Still, the most haunting part of that fiasco was the one obdurate dog-demoness whose shadow lingered until that lesser yokai birthed. At first, amidst all the upheaval, Inu no Taisho never noticed her. When he'd finally chanced a moment alone on the veranda, it occurred to him that all the other women who claimed he'd slept with had ceased their badgering.

"I just thought to save you the trouble," a breathy voice gusted.

Whirling around, the daiyokai pinned the speaker with a suspicious glare. "How did…?"

"I dispatched them," she said simply, whorls of magenta marked either end of her devious smile. Shouldering her fur pelt, the lady deftly switched subjects. "There is no shortage of women who desire the title of Lady of the West – some will go to great lengths and some will stoop even lower to claim it, as I'm sure you are aware." She had added the last with a flicking of eyes toward the room housing the Dog General's then-pressumed mistress. "Certainly you cannot allow yourself to be collared by every other rumor. You ought to at least make a public announcement of a prospective mate." Sauntering up to him, she didn't need to say who she considered the best candidate. "Even a written declaration would serve well to ward off any doubt."

"Huh," Inu no Taisho scoffed. "Mark me, dear wench, I don't need you or anyone else playing Vizier on High." He stared out at the garden. "I can manage perfectly fine, which is why I don't need a joint ruler. I'll produce an heir when I'm ready. Understand?" No one responded, of course. The mysterious inu-yokai had breezed off the porch long ago.

He'd seen her a few more times since. Not up front, but glimpsed in crowds, passed in meeting halls, and once in a heated dream. She was a persistent one and although he didn't heed strangers, the document of celibacy grew more appealing with every passing day.

Soon after, Inu no Taisho had sworn before his court that the only woman who'd be recognized as his mate would be the one invited to his own bedroom. Oblivious to the exasperated glances and mutterings exchanged, he officially wrote out the decree in his own blood on parchment decorated with his family's crest – flowers in a honeycombed pattern. Finally, he hung the scroll on a wall opposite his bedroom entrance. At first the demon had told himself it was superfluous, he wasn't going to be bedding any women any time soon and absolutely not with the starved attention his subjects seemed to gnawing at their innards. One escapade was enough.

Now here he sat – or rather, lay sprawled. Lost in unknown territory – some female's sleeping chambers – with a hangover he couldn't yet shake. His instinct shrieked for him to run, but sense asked to where? Everyone would know that the Dog General was absent from his own party, he'd have to fabricate an alibi if he returned home. Worse, if someone saw him sneaking out of this place…

So continues the vicious cycle.

He scanned the area. This room was decorated modestly, almost as if it were missing a few fixtures. Incense burned in a corner somewhere, thwarting his nose's efforts to identify his surroundings. They were unnervingly familiar…

…That wall scroll, he finally decided. Ferocious tigers prowled along steep cliffs, though there seemed to be a lurking floral pattern underneath. The daiyokai squinted then shrugged. No use troubling himself. The hanging canvas was simply about the same dimensions of his own wall scroll. Chuckling distractedly, claws scraped wooden floor panels. If only his vision wasn't so blurry…

Inu no Taisho winced.

On the bright side, it must have been a fine night. He'd probably filled some lady with elation – hopefully, someone who wouldn't catch the public eye. Someone of small standing, who he could deny knowing, who would never stand out in a crowd, who'd he never see again in her lifetime. A pauper.

Though, the bedroom is rather large for a peasant's…

No, no; she could have anticipated his arrival, may have caught word of him wandering around and taken him into her home, clearing space and removing some furnishings for their, ah, tryst. That would explain the sparce décor. Yes, he was definitely in a quaint little village.

It's awfully quiet for a village.

Shut up! He forced himself to relax. Soldiers were rendered useless in a crisis by excessive worry. Burying his face in his furry mane, he inhaled the soporific scents and relished the warm downy. His breathing slowed and the daiyokai stretched languidly; he could wait here until the throbbing in his head subsided or last evening's diversion walked in – whichever came first. Surely the woman he knew last night would understand his dire constraints and help him make a covert getaway. She'd know better than to ever speak to him again. He'd just explain it to her, she'd already proven to be most accommodating with her living quarters.

So content and self-deluded the Dog General was with his plan that he never heard the shoji screen slide open, never felt her presence until she was lying right behind him.

"About time you woke," she purred.

The throaty voice bid the hairs on his neck to rise, but Inu no Taisho wasn't convinced it was out of pleasure – like the room, there was something disturbingly familiar about that voice. He turned around and was face to face with a beautiful dog-demoness, two dainty magenta swirls marked each cheek, a crescent moon graced her forehead. Silver locks cascaded over where her loose kimono revealed unfashionably large breasts; but Inu no Taisho's gaze was drawn to the motion of that growing fang-flashing smile.

He was terror-stricken.

No! Not the gold-digger!

"Well," she chimed, sucking on her lower lip, "that's not the expression you wore last night."

The woman was right, but he wasn't registering any of it. More pertinent questions flooded his mind: Who had let this creature in? Why was she hell-bent on getting into his bed? And WHY was he not screaming for his guards?!

"Don't bother." That she'd just read his mind was almost as unsettling as her singsong tone. "No one else is around right now – your guards included. As the new Western Lady I gave them the day off. They think you're very generous." The wicked smile returned.

"Western Lady?" Inu no Taisho's head was spinning again.

"Yes, or don't you remember your vows?"

"Vows?!" Now he hyperventilated.

She rolled her eyes as if speaking to an extraordinarily stupid child, then recited, "Only she who has lain in my room shall I, the Lord of the West, accept as my spouse."

Red lightening flashed in his eyes. "That was solely on the scroll in my personal quarters and this is not…"

Already across the room, she plucked the tiger scroll from its hook…and turned it over. There, in the bold, fiery scarlet blood of daiyokai that never fades, flared Inu no Taisho's declaration. With measured steps, she swaggered up to him. "Shall I read it again? You truly were out of sorts last night," – her foot pushed aside a sake cup – "not recognizing your own bedroom with just a few minor adjustments."

The color drained from his face, the navy stripes stood out boldly – marks of shame rather than rank. "Conniving, treacherous, vile…"

"Didn't you want an heir?" she cooed, massaging his shoulders. "You conceded I'd be fit for the job."

"I was…"

"Inebriated? The rest of your court agreed. They all said it was high-time you breed something." Giggling, she leaned in closer. "Didn't you enjoy yourself?" She traced the curve of his ear with her tongue.

He leaned back to breathe deeply; her scent was intoxicating.

No, no, no, no! He couldn't have children with this female! This witch who'd dare take advantage of him in a vulnerable state! Just imagine what their son would be like if he left the boy in her care – a veritable monster!

Her long fingers were tracing the curves of his muscles, gentle butterfly touches that made his skin quiver eagerly. Damn, she was a ruthless strategist, and persistent, too. He could use a mate like that; someone as strong and cunning as he.

No! She's sucking me into her trap! She ambushed me on my own grounds, has me cornered and is waiting me out to surrender. That's how she would work!

"Why don't you ever take the time to savor your conquests?"

Inu no Taisho snapped his eyes open, never realizing he'd closed them. His ears quivered. Had she just declared herself conquered? Didn't she consider herself the interloper? He looked at her smile again, somehow it didn't tease like the others. Was she being genuine?

"I don't think anyone would have held out for me as long as you did. I'm yours to take, to claim. There are others who desire me. Am I to be let go?" She bit his chin and excitement jolted him. Fervor seized him now, much like on the battlefield when a quick decision was necessary. There was only one question to be had: Did the Dog General ever surrender his claim?

"Inconceivable."

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A/N: I know, Sesshomaru would kill me if he ever read this short fic. Of course, the title's pun stems from the word "conceive" as in to have a kid. Poor nameless Inu-Papa. ;)