Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha. It's obvious so why bother telling you?
A/N: Well I'm just seeing who actually likes this/thinks it can go far on If I get enough feedback, maybe I'll continue writing it. This was meant to be more of an AU and for my peer amusement. Hopefully you all like it since I've practically worked for a long time on it. Thanks!

Of Knights and Ladies

Prologue: Past Memoirs

Many times I have dwelt in my past. Many thoughts have passed in my mind. I could spend hours remembering. I remember my nine years of happiness. Then I remember another nine years of sorrow, misery, pain, lost, and…betrayals.

My precious nine years of happiness was with my mother, father, grandfather, and brother. I could also remember either my imagination or not, for I do not regret this, a boy of silver hair with the most warm autumn amber eyes I've ever seen. Those eyes I remember I could melt into and feel happy and safe; except there was a slight inhuman part of him which were probably my imaginations. He had dog-ears.

I remember having the urges to just……cuddle them, but a person of my standards that time was taught not to. I still do now. I don't remember his face clearly though. No only the most standoffish features. He was the most distant of my memory, maybe because he was the most innocent and happiest of my memories.

I think I had a little crush on him, even now too for when I think of him and write this down he makes me feel…. elated, because I still remember him 'till this day. In my childhood I would play with my imaginary friend and my brother would sometimes accompany us. My brother was too young to remember if he was really or not but maybe some five-year-old part of me wishes he were real.

But what am I raving about? To many who will read this will think me a loon, absurd, preposterous! (Whatever that means to me now…) He was just an imaginative friend I had when I was small, made out of boredom and loneliness. He couldn't be no more or no less. He was just a thought I ran to when I was lost. Well I am getting beside the subject. Well as soon as the nine years of misery came he too disappeared.

My father past away when I was nine. " He was swiftly taken from us and into a better realm" as the pastor had said. I knew he had died. End of subject. It was just hard to accept it. But I was only a child, I didn't know that'd I'd wish for him to come back and save me from what was to come.

To this day I never really know what the true story is of the cause of his death. It was like we got news of his death, the funeral came, and we mourned. My mother took it the hardest, though. I guess with two children to raise, a father to take care of, and an estate with it's own burdens was a thing to make a woman go into depression.

Father was always there for her. He was her savior. I guess she was lonely……I guess that she was….scared. Soon, though, she found another man and remarried.

My new stepfather wasn't so bad as the fairytales my governess use to tell me. He wasn't some witch or warlock in disguise, he didn't want to send us into the forest and get eaten up by a witch, he wasn't some child eater. He did not lock us up in the pantry, nor make us work from dawn until dust with chores. (That was for later.)It was just something about him that felt……. wrong.

Don't get me wrong now. He treated us like his own, but deep down I knew he disliked us. He wanted his own heir to grab our own estate and title. He was a young 25-year-old man, ignorant, and wanted his own descendent to take everything. He was human after all.

Figures in the end mother disowned us. She never told us why, but I knew. I have always known. I was there when the conversation came up. Hiding in my mothers closet after playing dress up with her belongings.

Mother knew I was there. She always knows. Maybe the trailings of things not being where they were before or the messes. Or the faint hint of perfume being sprayed just then or the smudges of color on tissues and cloths thrown quickly into the trash bin.

Stepfather had threatened her. Saying he'd leave if we weren't disowned. I was a fool to have the hope of maybe; just maybe she'd not disown us. As I mentioned before: I was a fool.

I guess I knew before her answer that she'd say yes. And she did. After all, inside she was just a weak lonely woman. She once more needed a savior. I understood and I did not blame her. But there were many of nights, which I chose to refuse to speak or see her.

She wasn't a bad mother, no; just she wasn't always there. So whom could I call a mother? If people were to ask me who my mother was or what a mother was to me I'd just stare at them blankly, maybe surprisingly and tell them that I could not answer. How could I know when all I ever had were memories of a once upon a time childhood and a mother who disowned me? How could I know? The happy childhood I knew seemed so long ago, someone else's life.

Souta was too young to understand. He still needs a mother. But from then on we stuck up for each other. We only now had each other and grandfather. We could not trust or befriend whomever. We were alone then.

No mother and no father. Only grandfather was left, it helped to know atleast one person was there. We, two disowned children of a widow, were all alone then. (Funny, no matter how much I keep saying it, it's hard to say, think, or believe it. And a sinking void is in my heart and soul. I don't know what it is). Later on I found out why stepfather wanted to disown, disinherit us….…he was expecting a heir. Mother was with child.

Through the days after my father died she treated us the same, maybe she was more distant and isolated but the same nevertheless. After when she became a married woman again, she was the same woman. When she disowned us she was still acted the same. I never thought of her as mother anymore after that, though.

No, never after that. That day word was sent that Father had died, she died to me. That day she brought stepfather home, when they were on the front door steps, I knew. I knew she wasn't Mother, my mother; she was to me only Lady Gweneveur Mari-Rose Antoinette Albra Trostae.

So Souta and I were fatherless and motherless. Though, we were never thrown out, we were treated as before, just disowned. Besides, Grandfather would forbid such a thing. Stepfather never tried anything.

He would just always smile at us in that way that meant he had won. He had power over mother. We knew but we never dare say anything. Who knew what would happen. He did after all have power over Mother.

The day our stepbrother was born was a stormy night. Mother died that night giving birth. She had become old and frail; no one would have suspected such a thing of her living through it. Probably stepfather suspected it the most. The following week was her burial, mourning, and we cried for her. She was my mother, just I had not as much respect as before.

We knew that without mother stepfather had more power than ever. Stepfather now had control over us. He could do anything now. I was soon left to the care of his son, but then was quickly cast away because of my "bad" influences. Later on, though, Grandfather died because of his grief over Mother's death. That day we knew we weren't protected anymore. No one was left.

Stepfather soon remarried to a younger girl tramp, Lady Sailiva. Actually it was Sally, but she needed a more, how do I say this, …appropriate name. Bottom line Sally was a whore and also a tramp's name and changed her name to Sailiva for its "foreignness." It sounded like Saliva to me but it had two accents. But why did it even matter?

Here, I'll answer my own forlorn and stupid unanswered question. It just didn't. Lady Sailiva was already pregnant with Stepfather's second child. Figures he's been cheating on Lady Gweneveur. Stepfather remembered our presence in the house but he did not care. He held the power.

However, Lady Sailiva had a fit of us staying in the house, so we were sent to servitude. But we soon rebelled after that. I learned by then. So we were soon sent to the King of our kingdom.

But I'm getting off subject. Either way they would win. So that was my nine years of life. I'm now 18. My brother 11. We were to live a new life. We are alone. We are of no ones children. We are just lost.

A/N: So.. how was it? I hope it wasn't so bad and please review. It might be a bit boring and wordy, but you must get the feel and idea of the whole situation including time. Helpful feedback and opinions are always welcomed!

Safreil