Okay, remember that whole William the Conqueror versus Harold of Normandy?
No? Well, it's this thing in history that happened a long time ago in the
1100th century. Basically I'm going to rewrite the entire event.
This is a very complicated idea. I have no idea how I'm going to make it fit. However, I'm going to try. Please bear with me and tell me what you think of my valiant efforts.
Oh, and by the way, don't worry. Inu-yasha isn't human.
*whew* here I go...
Disclaimer: Inu-yasha © Rumiko Takahashi. William the Conqueror, Harold, Normandy, and all that other stuff © Clio, Muse of History. The insanity of this A/U idea and all that entails © me. No, keep the men in white jackets away from me...
*---*
The message came while he was lying in bed.
"Prince Harold!" The pounding on the door startled Inu-yasha awake, and he blinked before turning his face away from the window in distress. Heedlessly the light continued to flood through, alarming his senses painfully until he finally rubbed at his eyes and sat up. The swift movement caused him a moment of nausea but he recovered hastily, struggling under the heavy sheets before rising, nude and drowsy with interrupted rest.
"Prince Harold! Prince Harold! Your father-" the voice on the other side of the door faltered, sounding almost as if whoever spoke was near the point of tears. Inu-yasha shook his head and yawned, then grabbed a robe from the side of a chair and drew it over his body.
"What is it?" The door creaked loudly as Inu-yasha unlocked it and pulled it open, sending poisoned spikes of pain into his brain as his headache worsened. Wincing, Inu-yasha looked on, unamused to find the eager-to- please but ever-so-annoying servant Alfred waiting on the other side, red- faced and out of breath.
"Prince Harold!" Alfred cried yet again upon seeing him. "We've just received word from the castle in London! Your father-there was a tragic accident during a hunting trip, and-Prince Harold, you father is dead!"
A strange wash of numbness filled Inu-yasha just as his veins ran cold. "Dead?" the young man echoed in an apathetic tone. The balding, red-haired servant nodded eagerly and clutched his hands to his breast, but Inu-yasha was already looking past him, his eyes vague as he seemed to stare through the stone walls of the castle. "What does that mean? What will be come of me?"
"Well, you see, milord, therein lies the...ah...problem. Your father, God rest his soul, never completed his, ah, a, ah, ...his will." Swallowing hard, Alfred raised his obsequious eyes, staring at Inu-yasha as if he expected to find himself headless at any moment. He gasped when Inu-yasha suddenly pushed him aside and stepped forward, looking down either side of the hall then starting towards the staircase leading down. Alfred looked after helplessly, his mind vying between dutifully serving his master and preserving his own pitiful life. It hardly mattered; by the time he came to a decision, Inu-yasha was already halfway down the stairs, the soft, determined sounds of his footsteps trailing after him.
"L...Lord Harold?" Alfred ventured, following slowly with a series of nervous crab-steps. Suddenly Inu-yasha whirled around and let out a sound directly akin to a dog's bark. Alfred emitted a tiny squeak and fell back, effectively rendered immobile for at least a few seconds. Satisfied, Inu- yasha turned heel and began his descent once more.
Even as the sides of the staircase widened and became another hallway, Inu- yasha found himself walking blindly, so lost in his thoughts that he could do little more than grunt when a maid unexpectedly burst out of a door and bumped into his shoulder. The maid showered him with apologies but Inu- yasha only nodded, his gesture barely more than a slight inclination of the head, and his pace never slowed. The maid left, or simply ceased to stop mattering, as Inu-yasha's gaze wandered, and he stared upon the plaque bearing an elaborately carved coat of arms, hanging upon the wall just above the farthest doorway. Inu-yasha's steps slowed, his eyes following the familiar curve of the fur and fangs, as the giant white dog fought with the gray serpent and formed the crest of his family.
To all else it was a symbol of power and nobility, but to he who had grown up with it, it was a pretty picture, a toy. It was merely luck that had made him the child of the late king Edward the Confessor, or Hanyou, as the demons knew him. But of course very few of the demon kin were left...even fewer true in bloodline. Inu-yasha himself was a bastard, the unnatural product of the forbidden union of a demon and a human. Still, he was graced with the powers and long life span of the demon, while retaining the features and personality of a mortal. There was far more to his lineage than he cared to think about or, indeed, even knew; his mother had died when he was still but a child and his father had never told him more other than that he was inhuman but should not look down upon humans because of it.
Feh. Idiot Hanyou. Inu-yasha had never had much use for the preachy, overly religious yet hypocritical demon posing as a human. It was an age-old practice among the Fae-kind to usurp a powerful human position while leaving none the wiser, and it certainly beat trying to eek out an existence in the wilds fighting both humans and each other. Still, Inu- yasha wondered what it was like to live in such a perilous but exciting environment; certainly it must be less boring than year after year spent in the comfort and total monotony of the castle built specifically by his father to house his 'weaker' second son until possible ascension into kinghood.
But none of that mattered now. Hanyou, or Edward, was dead. The king of both England and Normandy was no more.
So where did that leave Inu-yasha, his second-born son?
---
The light feathers flashed their whiteness as the edges of the cloak fluttered beside his ankles; Sesshoumaru turned in the mirror, staring at his reflection with a casualness that would almost seem bored, if not for his vigilant attention to detail.
"No. The gold material is more appealing. This green is most bilious."
"A-At once, Lord Sesshoumaru!" a small, ugly man shrieked, fervently leaning his staff against the bedstead and lifting his sickly thin arms to take the cloak as Sesshoumaru doffed it. Jaken was utterly devout in keeping the pale forest green material from touching the ground at any one point. He was just folding it into a neat pile when Sesshoumaru whipped around and started towards the armoire, reaching forward and touching his chin in the mirror with a critical glare.
"The humans will be expecting me to make another supposed trip to the barber soon. Jaken, remember to bribe the bartender into saying he already serviced me. If he seems to be acting unusual," the man turned, his black hair remaining close to his body as he shifted his gaze to just above Jaken's head, "kill him."
"Yes, Lord Sesshoumaru." Jaken set the cloak on a chair and took up his staff, looking at Sesshoumaru a moment before backing towards the door. "Shall I go now?"
"No." He turned, again looking to the mirror then brushing a single misplaced shank of hair from his eyes. "Fetch me a courier. I have a message for Her Royal Wench Queen Isabella that I want to relate to Spain."
"At once," Jaken breathed, bowing once before disappearing through the doorway and leaving Sesshoumaru to his own devices.
Less than three breaths later, Jaken reappeared, his face a strange shade of near-lavender. "Lord Sesshoumaru, the courier is already-"
"Please, Lord William!" Though he kept his expression neutral, Sesshoumaru looked down in surprise as an exhausted figure fell through the open door and landed on the hard floor heavily, the thin red carpet doing little to cushion his fall. "Pl-please...please give me audience..." He stepped back when the boy started crawling towards him, carefully keeping the disgust from his voice though he almost couldn't keep it from his expression.
"Who sent you?" Sesshoumaru demanded, immediately recognizing the courier's trade by the embroidered heraldic insignia on his vestment. The insignia seemed strangely familiar, yet Sesshoumaru could not quite place it; perhaps it was someone from a neighboring city-state. Stranger things had happened of late.
"M-Master Harold, Lord. He says...your father is de...dea..."
"Dead, yes, I know," Sesshoumaru snapped, his patience straining. The courier looked at him in surprise, but immediately remembered his duty and continued.
"Lord Harold demands that you...muh...meet him in the royal castle in London for a confrenc-" The envoy choked to a halt, staring up at Sesshoumaru in utter perplexity as the prince pushed downward with his foot into the unfortunate boy's back. Seshoumaru's hand was closing around the hilt of the short sword he wore at his hip when he paused, seeming more preoccupied with wondering what limb to cut off first than worrying over internal moral dilemmas.
"Lord Sesshoumaru!" Jaken screeched, coming forward and lowering his staff in alarm. "Humans don't kill their couriers in this age! You will make your subjects suspicious if you murder this one!"
"Hmm." Sesshoumaru's weight grew lighter only slightly, his hand still on his sword as if the feel of the leather pressed into his cold flesh brought him comfort. "Perhaps you are right, Jaken." He stepped away and let the messenger rise, watching the boy's fearful eyes dart back and forth as he waited a moment then forced himself into a stand. Sesshoumaru's lips quirked faintly and he tapped the boy's shoulder, causing the lad to wince and close his eyes in pained anticipation. At last the boy's lids creaked open and he stared at the prince and unofficial lord of France as if quite convinced William were completely insane. Sesshoumaru smirked again then gave the boy a rough shove towards the doorway.
"Go tell my pathetic brother that I will meet him in London one month from next Sunday," Sesshoumaru instructed, standing behind as the boy struggled to rise again. "And be sure to remind him of the many favors he owes me for preserving his status thus far." Sesshoumaru smiled one final time, sending a visible tremor up and down the lad's spine as he nodded wildly and bowed before taking off in a dead run down the hall. "And Jaken," Sesshoumaru noted, startling his companion out of his self-satisfied chuckle at the boy's humiliation.
Jaken looked on, his expression fairly apprehensive. "Yes, milord?"
The carpet *shshffed* as Jaken skidded along it, finally coming to rest a number of feet into the room. Jaken blinked and grabbed at the spinning ground, his head throbbing even as the imprint of the heel of Sesshoumaru's stylish boot glowed red on his throat. "M...Master..."
"Don't ever call me by my real name in front of a human ever again. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Lord Sesshoumaru," Jaken whispered in a noisome squeak, his eyes wide with surprise and hurt.
"Hmm." Sesshoumaru kicked absently at the folds in the carpet, staring at the back of his hand thoughtfully a moment before speaking. "I think I shall go with the forest green after all. That impetuous duke doesn't deserve to see me in my best." He turned, leaving Jaken alone and crumpled against the armoire. "Bring me my cloak downstairs. And don't forget to bribe the barber tonight. You know what to do if he is less than compliant."
"Yes, Lord Sesshoumaru," the little man repeated, his tone slightly steadier. "But, Lord Sesshoumaru, what of the meeting with your brother? Shouldn't we-"
"I will attend to that matter in good time. Do not worry, Jaken," Sesshoumaru admonished with a curious smile. "The fledgling merely wishes to stretch its wings. It will fall from the nest soon enough." With that, he turned once more and left the room.
Jaken watched after with round eyes. *Such hatred for his brother...* he mused, feeling his sore throat with a tenderly placed finger. *Sesshoumaru truly is a ruthless leader. And now that his father is dead, there is nothing left to keep him from ruling the countries.*
And maybe more, Jaken realized with a start. Sesshoumaru was not the type to content himself with the rule of just one territory. He would most likely go after all of Europe, perhaps even the vast steppes of Russia. Any who opposed him would be crushed easily; Sesshoumaru was, after all, no mere mortal. He was the firstborn son of the God of the West, and though his father's powers had waned in old age, Sesshoumaru's blood remained strong. After Sesshoumaru's reign, Alexander the Great would look like a child in the gladiatorial arena.
Nothing could stop Sesshoumaru now.
*---*
Well, what do you think? Is it confusing? Sorry, I tried to make it as clear as possible...there will be plenty of plot exposition later, though, of course. Oh, and don't worry, Kagome and Kikyo and everyone else are in it, probably even Kouga and the less-often-featured chars, and of course Naraku. That all comes later, though.
I still haven't decided whether Kagome is from the future or just a far away place. Probably the future, probably brought there accidentally by a divination spell gone wrong. I will figure it out later. Tired :p
There should be lots of magic in this story later on, but I hate the so- called explanation of anything being "because it's magic", so I'll probably rationalize everything until it seems almost like science...sorry, 'tis a habit of mine.
Anyway. Please read and review. This style of writing is more akin to mine than what I use in "I Ain't A Crossdresser", my other literary Inu-yasha fanfic. I've always loved Ye Olde England stories, and writing them is so much fun, as long as I have an interesting plot :p
Considering the roughness of my idea, I'd welcome any suggestions, if any of you have them. You can either write a comment or email me at wulfiesacolyte@yahoo.com, it doesn't really matter, I check both with about the same alacrity.
Anyway. Enough chattering. Review!
This is a very complicated idea. I have no idea how I'm going to make it fit. However, I'm going to try. Please bear with me and tell me what you think of my valiant efforts.
Oh, and by the way, don't worry. Inu-yasha isn't human.
*whew* here I go...
Disclaimer: Inu-yasha © Rumiko Takahashi. William the Conqueror, Harold, Normandy, and all that other stuff © Clio, Muse of History. The insanity of this A/U idea and all that entails © me. No, keep the men in white jackets away from me...
*---*
The message came while he was lying in bed.
"Prince Harold!" The pounding on the door startled Inu-yasha awake, and he blinked before turning his face away from the window in distress. Heedlessly the light continued to flood through, alarming his senses painfully until he finally rubbed at his eyes and sat up. The swift movement caused him a moment of nausea but he recovered hastily, struggling under the heavy sheets before rising, nude and drowsy with interrupted rest.
"Prince Harold! Prince Harold! Your father-" the voice on the other side of the door faltered, sounding almost as if whoever spoke was near the point of tears. Inu-yasha shook his head and yawned, then grabbed a robe from the side of a chair and drew it over his body.
"What is it?" The door creaked loudly as Inu-yasha unlocked it and pulled it open, sending poisoned spikes of pain into his brain as his headache worsened. Wincing, Inu-yasha looked on, unamused to find the eager-to- please but ever-so-annoying servant Alfred waiting on the other side, red- faced and out of breath.
"Prince Harold!" Alfred cried yet again upon seeing him. "We've just received word from the castle in London! Your father-there was a tragic accident during a hunting trip, and-Prince Harold, you father is dead!"
A strange wash of numbness filled Inu-yasha just as his veins ran cold. "Dead?" the young man echoed in an apathetic tone. The balding, red-haired servant nodded eagerly and clutched his hands to his breast, but Inu-yasha was already looking past him, his eyes vague as he seemed to stare through the stone walls of the castle. "What does that mean? What will be come of me?"
"Well, you see, milord, therein lies the...ah...problem. Your father, God rest his soul, never completed his, ah, a, ah, ...his will." Swallowing hard, Alfred raised his obsequious eyes, staring at Inu-yasha as if he expected to find himself headless at any moment. He gasped when Inu-yasha suddenly pushed him aside and stepped forward, looking down either side of the hall then starting towards the staircase leading down. Alfred looked after helplessly, his mind vying between dutifully serving his master and preserving his own pitiful life. It hardly mattered; by the time he came to a decision, Inu-yasha was already halfway down the stairs, the soft, determined sounds of his footsteps trailing after him.
"L...Lord Harold?" Alfred ventured, following slowly with a series of nervous crab-steps. Suddenly Inu-yasha whirled around and let out a sound directly akin to a dog's bark. Alfred emitted a tiny squeak and fell back, effectively rendered immobile for at least a few seconds. Satisfied, Inu- yasha turned heel and began his descent once more.
Even as the sides of the staircase widened and became another hallway, Inu- yasha found himself walking blindly, so lost in his thoughts that he could do little more than grunt when a maid unexpectedly burst out of a door and bumped into his shoulder. The maid showered him with apologies but Inu- yasha only nodded, his gesture barely more than a slight inclination of the head, and his pace never slowed. The maid left, or simply ceased to stop mattering, as Inu-yasha's gaze wandered, and he stared upon the plaque bearing an elaborately carved coat of arms, hanging upon the wall just above the farthest doorway. Inu-yasha's steps slowed, his eyes following the familiar curve of the fur and fangs, as the giant white dog fought with the gray serpent and formed the crest of his family.
To all else it was a symbol of power and nobility, but to he who had grown up with it, it was a pretty picture, a toy. It was merely luck that had made him the child of the late king Edward the Confessor, or Hanyou, as the demons knew him. But of course very few of the demon kin were left...even fewer true in bloodline. Inu-yasha himself was a bastard, the unnatural product of the forbidden union of a demon and a human. Still, he was graced with the powers and long life span of the demon, while retaining the features and personality of a mortal. There was far more to his lineage than he cared to think about or, indeed, even knew; his mother had died when he was still but a child and his father had never told him more other than that he was inhuman but should not look down upon humans because of it.
Feh. Idiot Hanyou. Inu-yasha had never had much use for the preachy, overly religious yet hypocritical demon posing as a human. It was an age-old practice among the Fae-kind to usurp a powerful human position while leaving none the wiser, and it certainly beat trying to eek out an existence in the wilds fighting both humans and each other. Still, Inu- yasha wondered what it was like to live in such a perilous but exciting environment; certainly it must be less boring than year after year spent in the comfort and total monotony of the castle built specifically by his father to house his 'weaker' second son until possible ascension into kinghood.
But none of that mattered now. Hanyou, or Edward, was dead. The king of both England and Normandy was no more.
So where did that leave Inu-yasha, his second-born son?
---
The light feathers flashed their whiteness as the edges of the cloak fluttered beside his ankles; Sesshoumaru turned in the mirror, staring at his reflection with a casualness that would almost seem bored, if not for his vigilant attention to detail.
"No. The gold material is more appealing. This green is most bilious."
"A-At once, Lord Sesshoumaru!" a small, ugly man shrieked, fervently leaning his staff against the bedstead and lifting his sickly thin arms to take the cloak as Sesshoumaru doffed it. Jaken was utterly devout in keeping the pale forest green material from touching the ground at any one point. He was just folding it into a neat pile when Sesshoumaru whipped around and started towards the armoire, reaching forward and touching his chin in the mirror with a critical glare.
"The humans will be expecting me to make another supposed trip to the barber soon. Jaken, remember to bribe the bartender into saying he already serviced me. If he seems to be acting unusual," the man turned, his black hair remaining close to his body as he shifted his gaze to just above Jaken's head, "kill him."
"Yes, Lord Sesshoumaru." Jaken set the cloak on a chair and took up his staff, looking at Sesshoumaru a moment before backing towards the door. "Shall I go now?"
"No." He turned, again looking to the mirror then brushing a single misplaced shank of hair from his eyes. "Fetch me a courier. I have a message for Her Royal Wench Queen Isabella that I want to relate to Spain."
"At once," Jaken breathed, bowing once before disappearing through the doorway and leaving Sesshoumaru to his own devices.
Less than three breaths later, Jaken reappeared, his face a strange shade of near-lavender. "Lord Sesshoumaru, the courier is already-"
"Please, Lord William!" Though he kept his expression neutral, Sesshoumaru looked down in surprise as an exhausted figure fell through the open door and landed on the hard floor heavily, the thin red carpet doing little to cushion his fall. "Pl-please...please give me audience..." He stepped back when the boy started crawling towards him, carefully keeping the disgust from his voice though he almost couldn't keep it from his expression.
"Who sent you?" Sesshoumaru demanded, immediately recognizing the courier's trade by the embroidered heraldic insignia on his vestment. The insignia seemed strangely familiar, yet Sesshoumaru could not quite place it; perhaps it was someone from a neighboring city-state. Stranger things had happened of late.
"M-Master Harold, Lord. He says...your father is de...dea..."
"Dead, yes, I know," Sesshoumaru snapped, his patience straining. The courier looked at him in surprise, but immediately remembered his duty and continued.
"Lord Harold demands that you...muh...meet him in the royal castle in London for a confrenc-" The envoy choked to a halt, staring up at Sesshoumaru in utter perplexity as the prince pushed downward with his foot into the unfortunate boy's back. Seshoumaru's hand was closing around the hilt of the short sword he wore at his hip when he paused, seeming more preoccupied with wondering what limb to cut off first than worrying over internal moral dilemmas.
"Lord Sesshoumaru!" Jaken screeched, coming forward and lowering his staff in alarm. "Humans don't kill their couriers in this age! You will make your subjects suspicious if you murder this one!"
"Hmm." Sesshoumaru's weight grew lighter only slightly, his hand still on his sword as if the feel of the leather pressed into his cold flesh brought him comfort. "Perhaps you are right, Jaken." He stepped away and let the messenger rise, watching the boy's fearful eyes dart back and forth as he waited a moment then forced himself into a stand. Sesshoumaru's lips quirked faintly and he tapped the boy's shoulder, causing the lad to wince and close his eyes in pained anticipation. At last the boy's lids creaked open and he stared at the prince and unofficial lord of France as if quite convinced William were completely insane. Sesshoumaru smirked again then gave the boy a rough shove towards the doorway.
"Go tell my pathetic brother that I will meet him in London one month from next Sunday," Sesshoumaru instructed, standing behind as the boy struggled to rise again. "And be sure to remind him of the many favors he owes me for preserving his status thus far." Sesshoumaru smiled one final time, sending a visible tremor up and down the lad's spine as he nodded wildly and bowed before taking off in a dead run down the hall. "And Jaken," Sesshoumaru noted, startling his companion out of his self-satisfied chuckle at the boy's humiliation.
Jaken looked on, his expression fairly apprehensive. "Yes, milord?"
The carpet *shshffed* as Jaken skidded along it, finally coming to rest a number of feet into the room. Jaken blinked and grabbed at the spinning ground, his head throbbing even as the imprint of the heel of Sesshoumaru's stylish boot glowed red on his throat. "M...Master..."
"Don't ever call me by my real name in front of a human ever again. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Lord Sesshoumaru," Jaken whispered in a noisome squeak, his eyes wide with surprise and hurt.
"Hmm." Sesshoumaru kicked absently at the folds in the carpet, staring at the back of his hand thoughtfully a moment before speaking. "I think I shall go with the forest green after all. That impetuous duke doesn't deserve to see me in my best." He turned, leaving Jaken alone and crumpled against the armoire. "Bring me my cloak downstairs. And don't forget to bribe the barber tonight. You know what to do if he is less than compliant."
"Yes, Lord Sesshoumaru," the little man repeated, his tone slightly steadier. "But, Lord Sesshoumaru, what of the meeting with your brother? Shouldn't we-"
"I will attend to that matter in good time. Do not worry, Jaken," Sesshoumaru admonished with a curious smile. "The fledgling merely wishes to stretch its wings. It will fall from the nest soon enough." With that, he turned once more and left the room.
Jaken watched after with round eyes. *Such hatred for his brother...* he mused, feeling his sore throat with a tenderly placed finger. *Sesshoumaru truly is a ruthless leader. And now that his father is dead, there is nothing left to keep him from ruling the countries.*
And maybe more, Jaken realized with a start. Sesshoumaru was not the type to content himself with the rule of just one territory. He would most likely go after all of Europe, perhaps even the vast steppes of Russia. Any who opposed him would be crushed easily; Sesshoumaru was, after all, no mere mortal. He was the firstborn son of the God of the West, and though his father's powers had waned in old age, Sesshoumaru's blood remained strong. After Sesshoumaru's reign, Alexander the Great would look like a child in the gladiatorial arena.
Nothing could stop Sesshoumaru now.
*---*
Well, what do you think? Is it confusing? Sorry, I tried to make it as clear as possible...there will be plenty of plot exposition later, though, of course. Oh, and don't worry, Kagome and Kikyo and everyone else are in it, probably even Kouga and the less-often-featured chars, and of course Naraku. That all comes later, though.
I still haven't decided whether Kagome is from the future or just a far away place. Probably the future, probably brought there accidentally by a divination spell gone wrong. I will figure it out later. Tired :p
There should be lots of magic in this story later on, but I hate the so- called explanation of anything being "because it's magic", so I'll probably rationalize everything until it seems almost like science...sorry, 'tis a habit of mine.
Anyway. Please read and review. This style of writing is more akin to mine than what I use in "I Ain't A Crossdresser", my other literary Inu-yasha fanfic. I've always loved Ye Olde England stories, and writing them is so much fun, as long as I have an interesting plot :p
Considering the roughness of my idea, I'd welcome any suggestions, if any of you have them. You can either write a comment or email me at wulfiesacolyte@yahoo.com, it doesn't really matter, I check both with about the same alacrity.
Anyway. Enough chattering. Review!
