Amaranth
By Aycelcus
Rating: R (for violence and sexual situations in later chapters)
Disclaimer: I do not own Inu Yasha, its characters or likenesses. I am borrowing them for just a little while. Also, I do not own the Landers and any related characters. They belong to my best friend. I do own Cillara, her likeness and all things that pertain to her character. AKA.: Don't own, don't sue.
Author's Note: Lady Bright, this chapter's almost waffy. For some reason I just can't see them fighting all hell-bent in the dark, quiet hours of the evening. That's what daylight is for.
Chapter Four: Down and Around the Rabbit Hole
The two figures faced off in the moonlight, the young-old birdling and the youkai Lord. Cillara sat there in the silence that pooled around his words. She had expected them, yes, although perhaps not phrased so bluntly. But part of her habit was the tendency to keep things behind her teeth, and she wasn't yet willing to divulge her life to a complete stranger.
Then she noticed on the table beside Sesshoumaru shapes of things that stirred her interest. A moment later, the odors followed, and a stomach empty for centuries awoke and let itself be known.
Cillara was cunning and clever and able to recognize such traits in her host. He's bribing me with food, she thought. As if her could hear her thoughts, he reached beside him and offered up a bowl of something savory to her.
"Hungry?" He asked with a slight quirk of his eyebrow. And she was so very hungry. So the Avatar conceded, and took the bowl. Her fingers trembled, but to her credit, she did not bolt the rice down like a starving dog. She carefully handled her chopsticks, and Sesshoumaru watched her patiently.
She was still hungry when the bowl was empty.
Sesshoumaru spoke softly as his hand found another dish. "You are the most puzzling thing to have wandered onto my lands, little bird. So what are you, and where did you come from?"
Cillara did not answer for a moment. She simply took the dish from him, and looked at it in long confusion. It was made of… Styrofoam?
"Ramen?" She blurted out, and then began to laugh in tiny little sobs. "Ramen. No electricity, no microwaves, but you have ramen. Where the hell have I found myself?"
Sesshoumaru smiled then, a small, tight movement of the lips that was almost indiscernible in the low glow of evening. She had inadvertently answered one of his questions. She must have come from the future, for that was where the "ramen" was from, brought back by his brother's miko wench. Still, he desired confirmation from her lips.
"So you are from the future."
Cillara looked at him in surprise then, her face going still and serious.
"…" She looked back down to the cooling cup of noodles. "I… am from a future, I suppose."
"Explain."
She looked up then. "… How do I explain? I am from a different future than what will drive this world."
"I do not understand. How can a different future exist without changing this past?"
She shook her head, and then absently replied. "There are more things on Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than can be explained by your philosophy."
Sesshoumaru growled. That was not an answer. But he did not press the issue. Instead, he turned to the other unanswered question.
"You are not youkai, and you are not human. What are you?"
"… I really don't have an answer to that. I am what I am."
"Earlier you said you were an "avatar". Do you rescind that statement?"
"No. In my case it is not a state of being, it is more of an occupation."
"Explain."
I think I shall grow quite tired of that word. Cillara sighed. "It's a job, it's what I do."
"What are you, then, if not an "avatar"?"
"I am an av-" Then she rubbed her fingers across the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Look, humor me. What are you?"
"I am not being examined."
"Just answer the damn question!"
"… I am youkai."
"Oookay. What is a youkai?"
"It is a…" And Sesshoumaru paused, searching for the right words. He found himself lacking any way to describe what he was. "It is youkai." He said lamely.
"Exactly my point. Not all things can be explained. There just aren't the words to confine a definition. I am simply what I am. There are no others like me." And there will never be any like me. Not now.
Sesshoumaru watched the woman for a moment. She had not touched the ramen. He gently moved the cup in her hand towards her. "Eat." He said, and she slowly began to eat again. He was silent a moment longer, and then spoke again.
"I concede to your point, little bird. You argue well enough, for now."
She snorted a little then. "I better have. I certainly have had the practice."
Quiescence fell then, a comfortable hush that lay between them.
Time passed as the moon waxed its slow way across the night sky. Finally the last of the provender that the youkai had laid out had made its way into the belly of the bird woman, and she sighed in contentment.
"You know," she said, the thought coming to her like a sudden rain, "You never really told me your name."
He realized the truth of her words. And so his voice whispered into the air.
"Sesshoumaru."
No Lord of the Western Lands, no title, no nothing. There in the tranquility of the solar it didn't seem important. There in the soft amaranthine light that touched her skin the normal way of things faded into the shadows. Tomorrow, he thought. Tomorrow, I shall ask her what spell she has wrought on me. Tomorrow, when the sun is bright and the day is sharp.
"Hn." Came her replay, and then a small bright chuckle rippled around her face. "I think I prefer `Fluffy'."
"And I think I could deny you your next meal." He retorted easily. She smiled at him.
"Fair enough."
The day dawned bright and sharp enough to suit even Sesshoumaru. It sent bright rays of light across the room where Cillara awoke. Though it had been late when finally she had been shown to a room down the hall from the solar, she slept soundly and woke early. By the yellow light of dawn she could clearly see her chamber, soft and feminine with scrolls and tapestries lining the walls in gentle floral patterns. Perhaps not the décor she would have chosen herself, but she appreciated its fine beauty.
A day and night of real sleep, and a little food had revived her physical energy considerably, and she managed to dress and groom herself with only a little difficulty. The servants were blessedly absent. Cillara never had been comfortable with being served by someone, the deference offered and the quiet subordination never sitting quite well with her.
She found her way to the dining room by smell. Her fingers trailing across the rough granite and the smooth marble, she paused in the entranceway. She was unaware of the picture she made, her small form framed by feathers and stone. She was, however, aware that the room's other occupants were staring at her.
"I'm sorry," she said self-consciously as she averted her eyes from the youkai lord and the young human girl. "I would not have been late to breakfast, but I think I was allowed to sleep late." Then she cleared her throat and walked over to Rin.
"I don't think that we were ever introduced. My name is Cillara," and she held out her hand for Rin to shake it.
Rin, who had never shaken a hand in her life and was utterly unfamiliar with the gesture, simply bowed a little in respect. "I am Rin."
"Nice to meet you, Rin. I apologize if I startled you yesterday, I wasn't at my best."
Rin smiled. "You didn't frighten Rin. I'm glad you are feeling better."
Sesshoumaru watched this little exchange wordlessly. He honestly had not expected Cillara to wake so early, or even be able to stand. He had left strict orders with the servants not to disturb her.
Cillara had tread carefully when she had come into the room, he noticed, and she was still a little shaky on her feet. That did not stop her, however, from flopping gracelessly into a chair beside Rin, (too far away from him, he thought) and exclaiming, "Mmmmm! Breakfast smells good! What are we having?"
He had no idea how she managed it. One moment she was quiet and gentle as a dove, and the next she was a raucous as an old crow. And how she kept from sitting on her wings after falling into a high-backed chair was beyond him. He could only assume that she was well-practiced. He watched her enthusiastically serve herself, completely unmindful of the servants who were at a loss as to dealing with such manners. At that moment, she reminded him so much of when Rin was little. It almost hurt to look at her. So while he did not want to stem her liveliness, he could not stop himself from commenting acidly.
"You act as you were born in a barn like a peasant. If you cannot behave as a Lady, I will not hesitate to ban you from this table."
He could see in her eyes that his coldness had hurt. He hated to watch her fade and crouch into herself. But Cillara, he was coming to realize, was not one to slink defeated back to her corner like a beaten puppy.
She glared at him sharply. "Well good fucking morning to you, too. Wake up on the wrong side of the futon?" Then she stood up, gathering bowls with her as she went. "If you want to ban me from the table, fine. I know where the kitchen is. I shall go eat in the solar where I won't bother your Royal Fluffiness." Then she strode out of the room, pausing only once to smile quickly and warmly at Rin. "It was nice to meet you." Then she disappeared, feathers, food, and all.
Rin could only stare at where she had been while Sesshoumaru burned with fury.
A.N.: I know the Shakespeare quote isn't quite right. So does Cillara. She doesn't care.
A.N. Two: Yeeash. Sesshy and Cillara sure are TOUCHY. And they were doing so well, too.
Note on MarySues: I didn't really know what a MarySue fic was before I published Amaranth, and now that I know I think I figured out how this one escaped such censure. Cillara DeSanto is a character that I have had for something close to five years now. She started out as me in my best friend's epic, but took on such a life of her own that as Cillara she is quite divorced from the original character (me.) Stephen King noted in his book Bag of Bones that any character in a book or story is but a bag of bones compared to real life, but I've noticed sometimes characters can get away from you and start to live on their own a little bit. (Eg. Anyone notice the occurrence of the references to Flagg in SK's books? I have yet to find one that doesn't have a Flagg, either as a character or a street name or… well you get the idea.) I have read a few fanfictions that have also escaped MarySueism, in fact I have one on my Favorites List. So long live those to dare to OC or self-insert. May their anti-MarySue amulets work long and true.