Disclaimer: I never bother with disclaimers, because they have as much
legal relevance as used tissue, and delay the start of the story. However,
I made a promise, and am now keeping it... KELLY! This contains the
pairing you hate. Don't read it. [For everybody else, give it a chance.
It just might grow on you.]
Counting Coup
by Sharlene
He could smell her. It was a different scent than it had been before Naraku was defeated, before his status in the clan had suffered from being rejected by the woman he chose. His lips curled into a fierce smile as his posture slipped easily from the hunter to the stalker. Without a sound, he moved, closing in on where his quarry was hiding.
A hiss of indrawn breath and a minute stiffening of muscles was the only response as he slid out of the trees, faster than thought, one arm going around her delicate neck and the jerking her up and back. Her toes barely brushed the ground as he supported her weight with an arm around her waist, his other arm pressing into her windpipe and slowly cutting off her air. The edges of her vision started to blur and she sent her elbows back into her captor's stomach, enraged at the thought that she would die without a fight, no matter how weak a resistance it was.
Her struggles stopped when a low chuckle sounded in her ear, impossibly loud, but so soft that it sent messages of alert down her spine and to the hairs on the back of her neck. The hot breath on her skin and the feeling of impending death sensitized her skin and senses to a painful point. She could feel the heat of his skin, see the gloom of the forest around her, taste the copper tang of fear in her mouth, and smell of fur and sweat, somewhere between wild animal and man.
"Why don't you hurry up and kill me, then? Go ahead, it's what you've wanted to do." Her voice was a snarl of defiance, every bit as arrogant as it had been when she held the upper hand and it was his kinsmen who paid the ultimate price.
"If you want to die, you'll have to do it yourself, since I've got better things to do." He laughed and the arm around her neck loosened just before the arm at her waist spun her around and then tossed her to the ground. She glared up at him, the light shining off of a fang exposed by his feral grin. His blue eyes shone with mockery as he held up her hair feathers between two fingers. "Later."
In a blink, he was gone, vanished as if he had only been a waking nightmare. Only the feeling of her hair brushing her shoulders and the lingering scent of him in the air told her that her mind hadn't played tricks on her. That damnable wolf had gotten the better of her. After all this time, he had had the chance to kill her and he hadn't bothered. She rubbed her neck and felt the fire of an unholy rage rising in her. He would pay. She would see to it.
Author's Note: Thanks to everybody on the KougaKagura mailing list for their support, especially Thunk, whose comments on the fic will be useful as I continue. If you happen to like this couple and want to join our little corner of the web, the address is http://groups.yahoo.com/group/kougakagura - but there've been more parts of this posted there as a rough draft, so don't go searching through the archives if you hate spoilers. ;)
As for the title: Coup is a French word, pronounced coo. In the Indian languages, "war count" was the definition. Coup could be counted by approaching an enemy close enough to strike him with something held in the hand. Coup could be counted without either killing or scalping. The greatest coup went to the warrior who, while counting coup, captured the enemy's horses, weapons, and religious vestments. http://wwmag.net/Pages/coup.htm
Counting Coup
by Sharlene
He could smell her. It was a different scent than it had been before Naraku was defeated, before his status in the clan had suffered from being rejected by the woman he chose. His lips curled into a fierce smile as his posture slipped easily from the hunter to the stalker. Without a sound, he moved, closing in on where his quarry was hiding.
A hiss of indrawn breath and a minute stiffening of muscles was the only response as he slid out of the trees, faster than thought, one arm going around her delicate neck and the jerking her up and back. Her toes barely brushed the ground as he supported her weight with an arm around her waist, his other arm pressing into her windpipe and slowly cutting off her air. The edges of her vision started to blur and she sent her elbows back into her captor's stomach, enraged at the thought that she would die without a fight, no matter how weak a resistance it was.
Her struggles stopped when a low chuckle sounded in her ear, impossibly loud, but so soft that it sent messages of alert down her spine and to the hairs on the back of her neck. The hot breath on her skin and the feeling of impending death sensitized her skin and senses to a painful point. She could feel the heat of his skin, see the gloom of the forest around her, taste the copper tang of fear in her mouth, and smell of fur and sweat, somewhere between wild animal and man.
"Why don't you hurry up and kill me, then? Go ahead, it's what you've wanted to do." Her voice was a snarl of defiance, every bit as arrogant as it had been when she held the upper hand and it was his kinsmen who paid the ultimate price.
"If you want to die, you'll have to do it yourself, since I've got better things to do." He laughed and the arm around her neck loosened just before the arm at her waist spun her around and then tossed her to the ground. She glared up at him, the light shining off of a fang exposed by his feral grin. His blue eyes shone with mockery as he held up her hair feathers between two fingers. "Later."
In a blink, he was gone, vanished as if he had only been a waking nightmare. Only the feeling of her hair brushing her shoulders and the lingering scent of him in the air told her that her mind hadn't played tricks on her. That damnable wolf had gotten the better of her. After all this time, he had had the chance to kill her and he hadn't bothered. She rubbed her neck and felt the fire of an unholy rage rising in her. He would pay. She would see to it.
Author's Note: Thanks to everybody on the KougaKagura mailing list for their support, especially Thunk, whose comments on the fic will be useful as I continue. If you happen to like this couple and want to join our little corner of the web, the address is http://groups.yahoo.com/group/kougakagura - but there've been more parts of this posted there as a rough draft, so don't go searching through the archives if you hate spoilers. ;)
As for the title: Coup is a French word, pronounced coo. In the Indian languages, "war count" was the definition. Coup could be counted by approaching an enemy close enough to strike him with something held in the hand. Coup could be counted without either killing or scalping. The greatest coup went to the warrior who, while counting coup, captured the enemy's horses, weapons, and religious vestments. http://wwmag.net/Pages/coup.htm