Author's Notes:
This is completely different from any story I've ever posted here before, so bear with me. It's long, convoluted, and definitely not a smarmy, happy ending - back plot really can't be, ne? Almost all the characters here are original, save chibi Sesshoumaru and Inuyasha, but they won't show up for a while. Anyhow, I've had a blast working on this and I'll be trying to get at least one chapter out a week (most likely Sundays) if I can. Comments appreciated, constructive criticism welcomed, but flames are fed to my pet dragon Sparky ^_~
Opening Movements
The wind was changing again.
She had been watching it all day with idle curiosity, but it wasn't until late afternoon that the rising storm had seen fit to slink its way over to her complex, howling like a banshee. She was safe inside, and had no reason for her uneasiness-except, the wind had changed, bringing with it a new odor.
The scent of rain, and ozone, and death.
Lightning snaked over the pavilion, and Lady Haruna pressed her hand close to her stomach. She had woken with death, tiptoeing gently in lingering dreams, and the thought had made her so nervous she'd nearly called for her handmaidens. Lightness and darkness, intermingled. Images of her husband's death, images of her family's death, but most of all, her own. It worried at her, the thought of her husband snarling in frustration. The shame, of watching him turn away from her. The shame, of watching him come to her, futilely. Either way, she could easily discern the dream's source.
Damned if you do, damned if you don't she thought with a bitter smile, rubbing her flat belly. How many nights had it been since he last came to her? Confined to her pavilion, she was unable to watch his comings and goings, but it was apparent among the servants at least that something was going on. He had told her the war was going well to the northeast, but the light in his eyes spoke differently. He was fighting so hard to hang on to the land, to hang on to her...and she, alone in her compound, could do little to aid him.
How did it get this way, I wonder? She mused idly, a half-smile gracing her thin lips. Of course she knew how things had "gotten that way": the usual way, with smiles and flattery---not to mention stolen kisses. Sometimes, Haruna wondered if her parents had ever gotten over the shock of her marriage to such an imposing lord- if only, she smirked, they'd known about the way he'd fainted when she first shed her robes for him. But now the time for kisses and closeness had drained away, and now he came to her door with bloodstains and battle injuries instead of flowers and sweet cakes.
If he came at all.
She rose deftly, careful not to let her immense trains of silk drag on the floor. It was dusty again, and she'd have to speak with a servant about that - surely the gossip wasn't enough to prevent her room from a proper cleaning. Twelve layers of gossamer sleeve swung at her sides like wings, and as they fluttered the lady wondered whether they might beat themselves free.
Like butterflies.
Lightning flashed again, followed almost immediately by the deafening roar of thunder. The storm was closer now, and Haruna wondered if he was still outside - if he was getting his feet wet. She made a note to check on the stock of ginger tea; his cold was already fierce enough without the horrid weather's help. Catching a passing servant's eye, the lady summoned a few housekeepers to take care of her quarters while she strolled. She should not be seen outside, but all inside was safe and accounted for.
"Good evening, Lady," another servant bowed, and Haruna nodded almost imperceptibly. The servants were part of the landscape, but listening to nature was a survival technique all animals acquired at some point. It was good to see they still honored her, even if only in name, during such troubled times. Some of them might even be loyal to her, and Haruna treasured such knowledge beyond many of the more physical comforts they provided. Dismissing the young man gently, Haruna continued into the main part of the compound.
She stuck her head into the storeroom only briefly; there wasn't enough light to discern anything in the shadows. The candle box from the hallway pierced a little ways into the darkness, but it only served to elongate the shadows. Were she a lesser woman, she might have feared the way the flickering darkness looked alive.
There are worse things than monsters that go "bump" in the night. She thought idly as she slid the door closed. Some other person would retrieve the ginger for her.
Some of them, I've met personally.
She found herself wondering again, as she approached Jii-san's room, how anything so ancient could still breathe without rattling itself to pieces. Her hearing could never approach her husband's, but even she could pick up on the clunky wheeze of the caretaker's lungs well outside his sliding door. Haruna could almost picture the old youkai sprawled out on the floor, disgracefully, blissfully drunk on such a dreary afternoon. ("But there ain' no workin' on sha aftanoonz when issh rainin'") In spite of herself, she smiled.
He's just like Grandfather used to be, well, if Grandfather were a lizard...
"C'mon in!" a dry voice creaked, and Haruna started. So he was sober, and awake, unexpectedly so...but the better for it, perhaps. Shaking her head, Haruna composed herself and slid the door ajar.
"I apologize for disturbing your rest, honored father," Haruna gracefully bowed. "I am sorry for any inconvenience I may be causing y-"
"Hmph!" the old demon interrupted. "Ain' no problem, Kochou sweetie. Whaz yer problem?"
Still doesn't have my name right, after all this time... Haruna sighed internally. Rumor had it the drink had gotten to the old man's wits long ago, and it was certainly true that she had a different name every time she came to him. It's not like that's necessarily a bad thing. Part of herself chided. The other part was still exasperated at being called "butterfly" for the second time in a week.
"I am no butterfly youkai, honored sir, I am the Lady Ha-"
"Lady 'o the house, yes, yes! An' I got a right nice crop of flowers this year for ya, the hydrangeas are downright purty, an'..."
"I did not come to discuss the flowers."
"Oh." The old youkai rocked backward on his leathery haunches, chewing on what was no doubt a fish bone - or something else she'd rather not think about. "Then you'll be seekin' something about th' master, then."
His wits really weren't as dull as they said.
"Jii-san."
"Yes?"
"It is time."
All pretense of joking fell away, and the old man's eyes glimmered with some unfathomable emotion.
"So says my lady, and so it shall be done."
He inclined his head slightly and barked his acknowledgement, touching one massive, clawed hand to his chest. Haruna rose before she could meet his eyes---and the pity she knew must be there. Saying nothing, the Lady drifted forward and threw open the outside door protecting her from the storm.
She had prayed for so many nights. She had loved her husband, she had fulfilled her wifely duties. And now, she was giving up the final right her position had to offer.
And still, the baby wouldn't come.
She gazed out over the endless fields, and wondered if the nightmare was really over after all.