This is a fusion of Rurouni Kenshin and the Sword-dancer novels by Jennifer Roberson. However, you do NOT have to be familiar with her novels to appreciate this story. Merely look at it as an alternative universe, and you'll understand it just fine. The only difference is that the plot and setting were borrowed from the afore-mentioned novels, which you should read if you get the chance. This story, like Roberson's original work, has a lesson to teach about sexism. My story criticizes the more subtle forms of sexism, and points out that any behavior that treats women as lesser or helpless is wrong, not only the loud and obnoxious sexism shown by Roberson's hero. On the other hand, this can be taken merely as an adventure and love story about Rurouni Kenshin's lovely couple Kenshin and Kaoru. Read it however you like.



Opening Theme:

Last night, I blew out the candle flame of my heart,
While you watched with tears in your eyes and told me, Please, no.
I don't understand why you care anyway,
Because the feeble flame would have been dying soon.
If it makes me cold and hard inside, that's good,
Because a diamond is hardest and coldest of all.
The sun cannot melt steel, and nothing can melt my harder heart!
Though it may be painful this way, it's better than my other choice.
Oh, I am willing to keep on going!
And I wish that you would not keep trying to hold me back,
When I am able to be strong and hard myself,
And I don't need you, your help, or your love, no, not at all!
I've made my home in the circle with my courage and my sword.
I have become only a sword! I have become only a sword!



Chapter One

In my line of work, I've met many women. Cantina wine-girls. Tanzeers' daughters. Merchants' wives. And just about everything in between. I treat them all politely, protect them if they are in danger, and generally don't make much fuss about it. If they or their husbands or fathers pay me for protecting them, that's very nice. If not, I'll do it anyway. A man with my past has to find honor where he can, and I've always felt that I've kept part of mine by protecting those who can't protect themselves.

But when she walked into the hot, dusty cantina and slipped the hood of her white burnous, I knew no other woman I'd ever seen was quite like her. I do not usually notice such things, but she was beautiful. The eyes which scanned the room were as blue as Northern lakes. I knew that even though I had never seen any Northern lakes. Her hair was the blackest and silkiest I had ever seen, pulled back from her pale by an indigo ribbon. And that face was pale, like snow. Though, no, I have not seen snow either. It was the pale skin which gave away that she probably had seen both Northern lakes and snow, because if she had spent her life in the South, as I had, her beautiful fair skin would long ago have been burned into a dull brown.

If it were not for the fair skin, I might have taken her for a Borderer. Blue eyes like hers wearere not unheard of among the Borderers, or even violet ones like mine. I'm not saying that I'm a Borderer, because I don't really know. I've spent most of my life in the Punja, so I generally think of myself as Southron, red hair and purple eyes not withstanding. I am tanned enough for the South, and my build is right . . . short and light, but well-muscled nonetheless.

The woman continued to scan the room, and I watched her thoughtfully. I couldn't help myself. She was very pleasant to look at.

To my astonishment she picked me out of the crowd and approached me. There was purpose in her movement, and I wondered if she were in danger. I could think of worse ways of spending the next few weeks than protecting someone as beautiful as she-

No, I told myself. Don't even think of it. Remember the one you couldn't protect. You don't deserve even this woman's glance.

This woman's glance, which she was directly straight at me. Kenshin Himura? she asked in a soft voice. Are you Kenshin?

It appeared that she was, in fact, looking for me. I nodded slowly. At your service, miss.

She gave me an approving look. I have business, if you please.

I gestured to a nearby barstool. She looked at it without comment a long moment. I didn't blame her. It was not the cleanest of seats, and she deserved better. Reluctantly, she sat.

May I offer you a drink, miss? Tea? Wine? Aqivi? I inquired.

she repeated coolly. Then she relented. Some tea would be nice.

I poured her some from the pot already on the table and refilled my own cup. My preference for drinking tea had long been regarded as an oddity and a joke among my fellow sword-dancers, but the woman did not comment on it. Over the rim of my cup, I studied her. She was very young, perhaps seventeen, perhaps a few years older. Her face was quiet and serious. Whatever she wished to speak to me about obviously worried her greatly. In light of this, I gave her my second-best reassuring rurouni smile. It usually works and saves me the trouble of using my best reassuring rurouni smile, which I save for special occaisions. It did not seem to be working now.

Generally, my small frame, wide violet eyes, and youthful face put women at ease, regardless of the situation. As this didn't seem to be enough, I upgraded the smile to my best reassuring rurouni smile and hoped to see her smile back.

Unfortunately, this woman did not appear to be reassured even by that. She just looked at me squarely. I was told you know someone called Gohei Hiruma, she said in her gentle Northern voice.

I didn't bother to hide my surprise, wondering what this girl could want with as unsavory a character as Gohei. Why are you interested in him?

Her cool eyes were hooded.

She was a quiet girl, I decided, judging by her short sentences. Naive, sweet, and uncomfortable talking to a strange man in a cantina. It was brave of her to have approached me at all. Gohei doesn't talk to strangers, I warned her. He only talks to his . . . friends.

I've heard you are his friend.

I wasn't really, but my hesitation before saying was intended. Gohei doesn't really have any friends. I come closer than most, I suppose. He and I go back many years. To the revolution.

She gave me a cold glare, which covered hot rage. Are you also a slaver?

The question surprised me. I wouldn't have expected a Northern girl to know that Gohei Hiruma was involved in the slave trade. She was very intelligent, I decided, and very well-informed. And patient, because she sat calmly during the long interval before I answered her. I remembered another intelligent and patient woman. But that thought hurt, and while I deserved the pain, for now this girl deserved my full attention. I am a wanderer, that I am. I deal in rescues and protection. I make my living with my sword. I tapped the hilt of my Sakabattou, and drew it a few inches for her to see the reversed blade. I'm a sword-dancer. Not a slaver.

But you know Gohei. Her eyes were so deep, so innocent, so blue.

A lot of people know Gohei, I offered. You know Gohei.

I know *of* him, she clarified. I need to meet him.

I shook my head. That would be foolish, that it would, miss. Gohei would sell you to a tanzeer for his harem. You deserve better of me than that.



In the North, the word might be prince, I explained, sipping my tea.

She considered it. Is there no way I can meet with him safely?

I said honestly. I made a mental tally of the money I currently carried, hoping it would be enough to buy her back from the cold-blooded trader.

I have gold, she suggested.

So she was wealthy, as well. I was surprised she'd gotten to this cantina without being openly seized. She had been very lucky. Lucky to have made it this far, and lucky to have my help from this point on. Do not speak of it so loudly, miss, or you might be robbed and kidnapped. I returned to my earlier question. Why are you interested in meeting Gohei?

She didn't give me any more of an answer. I have said.

I added stubborn to the catalog of her traits. Listen to me, miss. I am willing to take you to Gohei and protect you from him, but you will need to tell me why you wish to speak to him. I do not work in the dark.

She continued to be stubborn. I have no wish to hire a sword-dancer. I just want you to tell me where I can find him, understood? Her voice rose in volume, and I got the feeling she might go for my throat next.

I have told you what he would do to you, miss.

She straightened. It's a risk I'll just have to take!

Well, there's only so much I can argue. I told her where to find him, and how, and what she should say to him when she did. While I admired her stubbornness, stubbornness in a woman can be a very dangerous trait. Another woman had been stubborn, but had only learned its dangers when it was too late. I wanted a better chance for this girl.

She looked at me with puzzlement. I should tell him, The Battousai plays for keeps'?

I smiled innocently.

she asked with a slight edge in her tone.

Do not worry, miss. Gohei merely owes me a favor. That is all.

She stared at me a moment longer, studying me. Then she rose. Her hands, pressed against the table, were long-fingered and slender, but lacked delicacy. Sinews moved beneath the fair skin. Strong hands. Strong fingers. For a woman, very strong.

I'll tell him, she said, before turning to leave.

I sighed and returned to my tea. She was extremely stubborn, that she was.