a/n: Wah! This update is a lot later than I intended because life got in
the way; I'm sure that you all know what I mean. Anyway, thank you to all
my reviewers for the encouraging and kind comments! It really helps
motivate me to keep writing even when I just get so frustrated because my
muse decided to go on indefinite vacation. I really wasn't very satisfied
with Chapter 1 and want to rewrite it at some point...but until then, I
hope Chapter 2 was worth the wait! Also, I changed the rating to PG-13 to
be on the safe side for some gory descriptions. Hopefully I toned it down
enough so that you guys won't be uncomfortable. Again, sorry that the
update took so long, and I hope I didn't lose any readers just because it
took awhile. Chapter 3 is already in the works and I'm hoping to get it
posted next week, but I make no guarantees.
~Koala-chan ;op
Disclaimer: I own nothing but this story.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
God Amongst Men
.::.Chapter Two: Hope.::.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A chill North wind assaulted the makeshift camp, slinking into holes, cracks, and crevices invisible to the human eye. A silent watcher in the night. Floating through huts and tents alike, its frosty fingers nipping at everything, stealing warmth from under downy covers, freshly aired in preparation for the coming winter that would prove the harshest in many years, made more so by the discord and petulance of war.
A lone figure remained awake in the early morning darkness, absently contemplating the stars from his nightly post. He drew the thin cloth more tightly around his shoulders as another icy gust of wind assaulted his limbs.
Sighing wistfully as he came out of his reverie, he could not help but wonder at such unnecessary precaution. Nothing ever happened during the night. No idiot would leave the warm softness of a bed in favor of chaos and mayhem. Once again sighing at the thought of his bed, he returned to his mindless survey of the constellations.
A sudden hiss, before the thud, confirming the target had been hit.
The man's last living thought. 'Really, what is so special about the stars.'
He never knew what hit him.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
'The stars are so beautiful against the contrasting inky dark backdrop.'
Kagome inhaled the crisp, early morning air as she continued her perusal of the winking heavens above, treading down the path toward her enchanted meadow.
After tossing and turning in bed whilst staring at the empty, blank, viewless ceiling above her bed well into the night, Kagome resolved to stare at something more worthy of interest if she was to lose sleep doing so. Thus, the reason for her early morning stroll through the forest. Even the woods understood her restlessness for they were alive and aflutter with unease.
Something was wrong.
Looking over her shoulder as twigs snapped to signal an intruder upon her safe harbor, 'Ah, so _that's_ the problem.'
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The night air was amazingly heavy and stifling, as if it were as dead as the night itself.....soundless and lacking all evidence of the living nocturnal creatures usually easily apparent to one as adept as himself.
Unable to shake the ominous feeling that seemed to oppress him, to plague him, Sesshoumaru heaved himself slowly out of bed. As the tent flap fell back into place, he set out to commit to memory the landscape of the town and its surrounding terrain, which he had the misfortune of lamentably committing himself to save.
Having calmed down at the coarseness he was treated to upon his arrival and annihilated his unreasonable disappointment at finding a regular provincial village instead of the fort-like stronghold he visualized, Sesshoumaru grudgingly acknowledged his deference for the town's unceasing spirit. In defiance of the perilous situation, the townsfolk truly live to the fullest extent attainable to them; the village that seemed rustic and unpolished at the initial viewing proved, upon the Lord's closer inspection, intriguing by the time dusk settled over the surrounding, sprawling countryside.
The charm of an unencumbered market. Merchants and patrons squabbling over prices, none of the over inflation of value nor the senseless hoarding of goods so often common in communities during times of war. The allure of unchecked children frolicking in fields. Laughter rising from all corners, unfettered by fear. Floating free, open, clear upon the breeze.
'An isle of utopia amidst a world of struggle.' The thought emerged unbidden to his mind.
Drawn out of his tent that afternoon by the tinkling laughter that drifted into his ears, Sesshoumaru wandered until he located the source from whence the pleasurable sounds materialized. He found himself overlooking some senseless sport evidently invented for the sole purpose of diverting overly energetic progeny. It was not this nonsensical pastime nor the children's teeming glee that fast held the attention of the Western Lord. No. His scrutiny centered upon the girl in the hub of the commotion.
The wisp of a girl had insulted him. That alone made him detest her, made him resentfully esteem her.
Analyzing her every action as she diverted herself with the childish game, she seemed insignificant, the typical useless female, squandering time instead of doing something productive. Impossible. Such immaturity could not mastermind an immense rising as rumor asserts this town has done.
Frustrated at his utter inability to puzzle out such a simple, country girl, Sesshoumaru took one last look at the pastoral scene painted by the still-cavorting-endlessly-giggling troupe bathed in the warm orange-pink of the setting sun. Starting at the unnoticed length of time he spent perusing the scene, ignoring the irrelevant pang in the depths of his internal organ, buried under layers of facades, he swiveled from the vision and stalked back into the tent, not to surface again for the duration of the day.
Roving about now, he admitted, even if only to himself alone, the woman- child held some strange power. She invaded where least wanted, possessed some ability to command attention. Logic, rationality, and observation likewise told him the girl must hold significant leverage with the townsfolk.
Still, he refused to accept a woman as the leader of the famous and successful rebellion.
He knew.
All women were nothing but sniveling bitches.
So why did he still doubt.
A village with a strange girl who made him suffer uncertainties, made him feel something insubstantial, believed unattainable.
What was it?
No. Not the girl. The girl did nothing. The town did this. Surely it was something about the country or something found in the air that produced this inexplicable feeling of _life_ within him.
Engrossed with his thoughts, Sesshoumaru failed to realize how he stumbled upon a clearing with said leader contained within until her voice broke into his mind, strangely lacking the heat that had been present through the whole of their...confrontation, for lack of a better word, earlier that day.
"My Lord, you are quite the early riser." Almost conversational. Almost.
Despite the lack of derision or any other emotions behind the voice, Sesshoumaru had the inexplicable intuition that he was unwelcome and intruding upon some private tryst of the girl's.
"I am intruding."
The girl looked guilty and anxious at his implication. Perhaps she was cutting some deal with the enemy. Of course. Good for nothing females, they only know how to scheme, plot, and twist things for their own gain.
Refusing to allow such a conniving wench to continue in her deception of the naive villagers, The Great Lord did not budge from the clearing. Even as he decided in favor of catching the girl in her act of betrayal, the wench soon lost any semblance of guilt or unease in favor of indignation. Really, people were always much too easy to read. Counting the seconds until the girl exploded in fury at his foiling her plans, he was mildly surprised when she remained silent. A revelation of some sort took her over and eased the tension in her body.
'She finally accepts defeat.'
He privately smirked. Outward countenance did not so much as twitch.
Kagome remembered the near hiding she narrowly escaped once her mother dragged her home. She understood her mother's anger. She was not usually so blatantly disrespectful even to those she could not stand...It was just something about the Lord. It kept her on edge and wary in his presence...Perhaps her utter inability to sense his thoughts, feelings, intentions. Where her intuition never failed, it failed with him. And so she would be cautious yet not offend where offense could very well be the equivalent of death, not merely her own, but the entire village's as well, should _Sesshoumaru-sama_ revoke his much-needed assistance.
"The night sky is a most wondrous scene." She chose a safe and neutral topic. No response was forthcoming so she pressed on. "My Lord, is it not?"
"It is harsh, cold, unyielding, impersonal." She bit her tongue to avoid the imminent foot in mouth dilemma and to stifle her instantaneous response from pouring forth. But her mind continued of its own accord. 'As are you.....'
She may as well have spoken outright. He understood the glint in her eye and inwardly bristled at the slight while he outwardly remained unfurled. The girl was not fooled; she saw the faint flicker of burning amber before ice once again encased it. How had he known?
'Great, just what the world needs, a mind-reading-ever-stoic-overbearing- pompous Great Lord of the Western Lands. Get your act together, girl; why don't you slaughter the village next time you have an irresistible thought.' Clearing her suddenly dry and scratchy throat, the almost one- sided conversation persisted.
"Do you really find it so? The stars offer nothing but warmth and compassion. They understand people's pain for they shudder and flicker as though they themselves are the ones in pain. Yet, though they waver even to the point of extinction they endure. Unobtrusive, gentle witnesses that speckle the blackness. Tender in the way its light does not invade and conquer as the sun does. Rather the subtle light illuminates only what one wishes to see - " 'What an impractical, silly girl.'
"You squander words." 'The nerve of the arrogant _Jerk_.'
"You hoard them." 'The chit.'
Blazing cobalt clashed against searing gold.
Stillness. A battle of completely contradictory souls ensued.
Both pairs suddenly broke contact to survey the shapeless, shadowed wood looming in the distance. Gazes once again locked, flared with understanding.
A blink later.
Two figures dashed desperately for the village as an alarm began to sound further ahead. The attack had begun.
Tearing into town, warriors, elders, children, and animals alike were in a state of upheaval, panic, disorder.
A mere glance. Comprehension.
The two figures burst into a flurry of action. It would be much later before either one thought to question their extraordinary efficiency in this crisis.
Kagome calmed frazzled nerves resulting from being startled out of the bliss of a peaceful sleep and thrust into the nightmare of violent struggle.
As Kagome helped inhabitants gather their wits and bring them to order, Sesshoumaru barked orders at his men from the makeshift platform of an overturned pail with a cool, controlled efficiency that only came from years of training and experience.
The battle raged seemingly for years before first light finally approached. Hours upon hours of endless struggle, violence, bloodshed with no victor. Naraku's forces had been upon the pinnacle of defeat before reinforcements arrived. Now, as the sun's light timorously crept up the horizon, receding the shadows inch by agonizing inch, almost as if fearing the dawning of madness, the rebels experienced the putrid twang of approaching defeat.
The people's last will to fight slipped toward oblivion with each degree of miniscule lightening of the sky cast by the rising sun's rays.
'Could no one contest against Naraku?' Sesshoumaru's immaculate visage cracked and his sturdy self-assurance fractured under the double burden of impending failure and exhaustion.
Gazing out over the battlefield, Kagome almost retched at the sight of the carnage and gore strewn across the plain. Severed parts, hands, arms, fingers, torsos scattered over the earth. Corpses, impossible to distinguish, identities lost, baptized into afterlife with their own life's essence. The battleground, once a lively green and filled with vibrantly colored flora, now trodden brown with grime, sludge...stained crimson with warriors' blood.
Kagome was anything but squeamish after all the previous skirmishes the town had engaged in, but the sight of the blood soaked battlefield, the worse of all she had seen in the rebellion so far, along with the approaching end to the life she knew and loved, was too bitter a dose for her to swallow.
She would not accept this. She had far too much to lose. Everyone did.
Drawing upon the last reserve of her strength, she painstakingly approached the crude stand Sesshoumaru had earlier used while proficiently giving commands.
She took her time for a deliberate, thorough examination of all the village people and army men alike. Kagome felt her resentment against failure swell as she absorbed the sheer helplessness each conveyed. With the surge in resentment came the determination to persevere until the end, until triumph.
A deep breathe. Two.
Eyes fixed upon the small, diminutive form of the woman, amazed as her stature seemed to grow and expand with every second, with each eye that focused upon her until she encompassed all they sight. Once she felt the last eye fasten upon her, giving full attention out of inquisitiveness, she launched headlong into action.
"Gather yourselves. Take heart."
Each word emphasized by burning azure eyes locking upon each individual as though he was the only one they were meant for, calling his soul from the depths of his dejection.
"We must not lose. We cannot afford to. Will you admit defeat when you have lost your brother, father, husband, son to these monsters? These maniacs wish to seize our freedom under pretense of offering a better, more orderly rule. Yet they create strife and bring death to obtain this goal. We must not submit to such a hypocritical government, nay...let us say tyrant. Let us assert ourselves. We will sweat and toil and die to win back harmony and peace for ourselves, our family, our future. Let them see. We will not hold back. We will never surrender."
This speech, not glossed over with half-truths, neither the grandest nor the most eloquent ever delivered, was the most stirring. Not the words, but the manner of the speaker, overflowing with purpose, with fortitude...with _heart_ touched even the most despairing of minds, conveying to all the willpower to live.
All stood breathless. Awed into mute veneration at the fiery passion shining within clear, cerulean eyes.
Even Sesshoumaru.
Especially him.
That indefinable emotion that constantly eluded him. It built within him with each word uttered into the air, swelling in intensity until it erupted. The realization of it rushed in upon him as he witnessed the rousing, magnificent scene.
Hope.
A battle cry. Then action.
The last rally. One last, frantic attempt. All surged forward. Age, status, gender mattered not for they fought ferociously, side by side, as equals, for their right, their lives.
Daybreak.
~*~ end chapter two: hope ~*~
Disclaimer: I own nothing but this story.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
God Amongst Men
.::.Chapter Two: Hope.::.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A chill North wind assaulted the makeshift camp, slinking into holes, cracks, and crevices invisible to the human eye. A silent watcher in the night. Floating through huts and tents alike, its frosty fingers nipping at everything, stealing warmth from under downy covers, freshly aired in preparation for the coming winter that would prove the harshest in many years, made more so by the discord and petulance of war.
A lone figure remained awake in the early morning darkness, absently contemplating the stars from his nightly post. He drew the thin cloth more tightly around his shoulders as another icy gust of wind assaulted his limbs.
Sighing wistfully as he came out of his reverie, he could not help but wonder at such unnecessary precaution. Nothing ever happened during the night. No idiot would leave the warm softness of a bed in favor of chaos and mayhem. Once again sighing at the thought of his bed, he returned to his mindless survey of the constellations.
A sudden hiss, before the thud, confirming the target had been hit.
The man's last living thought. 'Really, what is so special about the stars.'
He never knew what hit him.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
'The stars are so beautiful against the contrasting inky dark backdrop.'
Kagome inhaled the crisp, early morning air as she continued her perusal of the winking heavens above, treading down the path toward her enchanted meadow.
After tossing and turning in bed whilst staring at the empty, blank, viewless ceiling above her bed well into the night, Kagome resolved to stare at something more worthy of interest if she was to lose sleep doing so. Thus, the reason for her early morning stroll through the forest. Even the woods understood her restlessness for they were alive and aflutter with unease.
Something was wrong.
Looking over her shoulder as twigs snapped to signal an intruder upon her safe harbor, 'Ah, so _that's_ the problem.'
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The night air was amazingly heavy and stifling, as if it were as dead as the night itself.....soundless and lacking all evidence of the living nocturnal creatures usually easily apparent to one as adept as himself.
Unable to shake the ominous feeling that seemed to oppress him, to plague him, Sesshoumaru heaved himself slowly out of bed. As the tent flap fell back into place, he set out to commit to memory the landscape of the town and its surrounding terrain, which he had the misfortune of lamentably committing himself to save.
Having calmed down at the coarseness he was treated to upon his arrival and annihilated his unreasonable disappointment at finding a regular provincial village instead of the fort-like stronghold he visualized, Sesshoumaru grudgingly acknowledged his deference for the town's unceasing spirit. In defiance of the perilous situation, the townsfolk truly live to the fullest extent attainable to them; the village that seemed rustic and unpolished at the initial viewing proved, upon the Lord's closer inspection, intriguing by the time dusk settled over the surrounding, sprawling countryside.
The charm of an unencumbered market. Merchants and patrons squabbling over prices, none of the over inflation of value nor the senseless hoarding of goods so often common in communities during times of war. The allure of unchecked children frolicking in fields. Laughter rising from all corners, unfettered by fear. Floating free, open, clear upon the breeze.
'An isle of utopia amidst a world of struggle.' The thought emerged unbidden to his mind.
Drawn out of his tent that afternoon by the tinkling laughter that drifted into his ears, Sesshoumaru wandered until he located the source from whence the pleasurable sounds materialized. He found himself overlooking some senseless sport evidently invented for the sole purpose of diverting overly energetic progeny. It was not this nonsensical pastime nor the children's teeming glee that fast held the attention of the Western Lord. No. His scrutiny centered upon the girl in the hub of the commotion.
The wisp of a girl had insulted him. That alone made him detest her, made him resentfully esteem her.
Analyzing her every action as she diverted herself with the childish game, she seemed insignificant, the typical useless female, squandering time instead of doing something productive. Impossible. Such immaturity could not mastermind an immense rising as rumor asserts this town has done.
Frustrated at his utter inability to puzzle out such a simple, country girl, Sesshoumaru took one last look at the pastoral scene painted by the still-cavorting-endlessly-giggling troupe bathed in the warm orange-pink of the setting sun. Starting at the unnoticed length of time he spent perusing the scene, ignoring the irrelevant pang in the depths of his internal organ, buried under layers of facades, he swiveled from the vision and stalked back into the tent, not to surface again for the duration of the day.
Roving about now, he admitted, even if only to himself alone, the woman- child held some strange power. She invaded where least wanted, possessed some ability to command attention. Logic, rationality, and observation likewise told him the girl must hold significant leverage with the townsfolk.
Still, he refused to accept a woman as the leader of the famous and successful rebellion.
He knew.
All women were nothing but sniveling bitches.
So why did he still doubt.
A village with a strange girl who made him suffer uncertainties, made him feel something insubstantial, believed unattainable.
What was it?
No. Not the girl. The girl did nothing. The town did this. Surely it was something about the country or something found in the air that produced this inexplicable feeling of _life_ within him.
Engrossed with his thoughts, Sesshoumaru failed to realize how he stumbled upon a clearing with said leader contained within until her voice broke into his mind, strangely lacking the heat that had been present through the whole of their...confrontation, for lack of a better word, earlier that day.
"My Lord, you are quite the early riser." Almost conversational. Almost.
Despite the lack of derision or any other emotions behind the voice, Sesshoumaru had the inexplicable intuition that he was unwelcome and intruding upon some private tryst of the girl's.
"I am intruding."
The girl looked guilty and anxious at his implication. Perhaps she was cutting some deal with the enemy. Of course. Good for nothing females, they only know how to scheme, plot, and twist things for their own gain.
Refusing to allow such a conniving wench to continue in her deception of the naive villagers, The Great Lord did not budge from the clearing. Even as he decided in favor of catching the girl in her act of betrayal, the wench soon lost any semblance of guilt or unease in favor of indignation. Really, people were always much too easy to read. Counting the seconds until the girl exploded in fury at his foiling her plans, he was mildly surprised when she remained silent. A revelation of some sort took her over and eased the tension in her body.
'She finally accepts defeat.'
He privately smirked. Outward countenance did not so much as twitch.
Kagome remembered the near hiding she narrowly escaped once her mother dragged her home. She understood her mother's anger. She was not usually so blatantly disrespectful even to those she could not stand...It was just something about the Lord. It kept her on edge and wary in his presence...Perhaps her utter inability to sense his thoughts, feelings, intentions. Where her intuition never failed, it failed with him. And so she would be cautious yet not offend where offense could very well be the equivalent of death, not merely her own, but the entire village's as well, should _Sesshoumaru-sama_ revoke his much-needed assistance.
"The night sky is a most wondrous scene." She chose a safe and neutral topic. No response was forthcoming so she pressed on. "My Lord, is it not?"
"It is harsh, cold, unyielding, impersonal." She bit her tongue to avoid the imminent foot in mouth dilemma and to stifle her instantaneous response from pouring forth. But her mind continued of its own accord. 'As are you.....'
She may as well have spoken outright. He understood the glint in her eye and inwardly bristled at the slight while he outwardly remained unfurled. The girl was not fooled; she saw the faint flicker of burning amber before ice once again encased it. How had he known?
'Great, just what the world needs, a mind-reading-ever-stoic-overbearing- pompous Great Lord of the Western Lands. Get your act together, girl; why don't you slaughter the village next time you have an irresistible thought.' Clearing her suddenly dry and scratchy throat, the almost one- sided conversation persisted.
"Do you really find it so? The stars offer nothing but warmth and compassion. They understand people's pain for they shudder and flicker as though they themselves are the ones in pain. Yet, though they waver even to the point of extinction they endure. Unobtrusive, gentle witnesses that speckle the blackness. Tender in the way its light does not invade and conquer as the sun does. Rather the subtle light illuminates only what one wishes to see - " 'What an impractical, silly girl.'
"You squander words." 'The nerve of the arrogant _Jerk_.'
"You hoard them." 'The chit.'
Blazing cobalt clashed against searing gold.
Stillness. A battle of completely contradictory souls ensued.
Both pairs suddenly broke contact to survey the shapeless, shadowed wood looming in the distance. Gazes once again locked, flared with understanding.
A blink later.
Two figures dashed desperately for the village as an alarm began to sound further ahead. The attack had begun.
Tearing into town, warriors, elders, children, and animals alike were in a state of upheaval, panic, disorder.
A mere glance. Comprehension.
The two figures burst into a flurry of action. It would be much later before either one thought to question their extraordinary efficiency in this crisis.
Kagome calmed frazzled nerves resulting from being startled out of the bliss of a peaceful sleep and thrust into the nightmare of violent struggle.
As Kagome helped inhabitants gather their wits and bring them to order, Sesshoumaru barked orders at his men from the makeshift platform of an overturned pail with a cool, controlled efficiency that only came from years of training and experience.
The battle raged seemingly for years before first light finally approached. Hours upon hours of endless struggle, violence, bloodshed with no victor. Naraku's forces had been upon the pinnacle of defeat before reinforcements arrived. Now, as the sun's light timorously crept up the horizon, receding the shadows inch by agonizing inch, almost as if fearing the dawning of madness, the rebels experienced the putrid twang of approaching defeat.
The people's last will to fight slipped toward oblivion with each degree of miniscule lightening of the sky cast by the rising sun's rays.
'Could no one contest against Naraku?' Sesshoumaru's immaculate visage cracked and his sturdy self-assurance fractured under the double burden of impending failure and exhaustion.
Gazing out over the battlefield, Kagome almost retched at the sight of the carnage and gore strewn across the plain. Severed parts, hands, arms, fingers, torsos scattered over the earth. Corpses, impossible to distinguish, identities lost, baptized into afterlife with their own life's essence. The battleground, once a lively green and filled with vibrantly colored flora, now trodden brown with grime, sludge...stained crimson with warriors' blood.
Kagome was anything but squeamish after all the previous skirmishes the town had engaged in, but the sight of the blood soaked battlefield, the worse of all she had seen in the rebellion so far, along with the approaching end to the life she knew and loved, was too bitter a dose for her to swallow.
She would not accept this. She had far too much to lose. Everyone did.
Drawing upon the last reserve of her strength, she painstakingly approached the crude stand Sesshoumaru had earlier used while proficiently giving commands.
She took her time for a deliberate, thorough examination of all the village people and army men alike. Kagome felt her resentment against failure swell as she absorbed the sheer helplessness each conveyed. With the surge in resentment came the determination to persevere until the end, until triumph.
A deep breathe. Two.
Eyes fixed upon the small, diminutive form of the woman, amazed as her stature seemed to grow and expand with every second, with each eye that focused upon her until she encompassed all they sight. Once she felt the last eye fasten upon her, giving full attention out of inquisitiveness, she launched headlong into action.
"Gather yourselves. Take heart."
Each word emphasized by burning azure eyes locking upon each individual as though he was the only one they were meant for, calling his soul from the depths of his dejection.
"We must not lose. We cannot afford to. Will you admit defeat when you have lost your brother, father, husband, son to these monsters? These maniacs wish to seize our freedom under pretense of offering a better, more orderly rule. Yet they create strife and bring death to obtain this goal. We must not submit to such a hypocritical government, nay...let us say tyrant. Let us assert ourselves. We will sweat and toil and die to win back harmony and peace for ourselves, our family, our future. Let them see. We will not hold back. We will never surrender."
This speech, not glossed over with half-truths, neither the grandest nor the most eloquent ever delivered, was the most stirring. Not the words, but the manner of the speaker, overflowing with purpose, with fortitude...with _heart_ touched even the most despairing of minds, conveying to all the willpower to live.
All stood breathless. Awed into mute veneration at the fiery passion shining within clear, cerulean eyes.
Even Sesshoumaru.
Especially him.
That indefinable emotion that constantly eluded him. It built within him with each word uttered into the air, swelling in intensity until it erupted. The realization of it rushed in upon him as he witnessed the rousing, magnificent scene.
Hope.
A battle cry. Then action.
The last rally. One last, frantic attempt. All surged forward. Age, status, gender mattered not for they fought ferociously, side by side, as equals, for their right, their lives.
Daybreak.
~*~ end chapter two: hope ~*~