The end was drawing near, she knew. Soon, her peaceful tranquility would be
destroyed by ear-shattering screams that would even make the sky wince.
Indeed, once it had wept blood, and if the child didn't think that had been
a pain in the rear to explain to his father, then he was dead wrong.
It wasn't that she didn't love her son. After all, he was the only one she had, and wasn't a mother's love supposed to be unconditional? He was bright, and talented, and good-looking - everything a parent could wish for.
Well, almost everything. There was that matter of discipline - the same matter that had her mate tuck his tail between his legs and run to "check on the outlands" after a week at home with them. The pup had been nigh on insufferable ever since he'd been old enough to talk, and fathers simply weren't expected to have that much patience. She, on the other hand, was a mother - and mothers endured, or so she had been told. Somehow, she felt tricked.
"MAAAAAAAAAMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" The woman sighed dejectedly. There it was - right on time. One hour, three minutes, and nine seconds after she put little Sesshoumaru down for his afternoon nap, he was up and shrieking. This time the potted plants in the hallway had succumbed to the soul- rending sound, and they wilted as she hurried to the nursery to shut him up. Gathering her skirts in a hand, she bustled into the room just in time to see her dear son take a swipe at the nursemaid with his sharp little claws.
"Mama, she took my Fluffy!" he whined petulantly, stamping his foot and gesturing at the ragged, tattered remains of a stuffed animal that the maid had taken to wash and mend. His mother rolled her eyes. Her son was going through that tiresome phase where he latched himself onto some comfort object and refused to let go, come hell or high water. A creature from the darkest depths of the netherworld could have threatened to tear his arm off, and he still wouldn't have abandoned that . . . that thing. She supposed it could be worse, though. Her sister's child had carried a rabbit skull around for three years, even to bed, insisting that it was his imaginary friend. Her pup wasn't anywhere near that neurotic.
"Relax, child, she will give it back," she soothed, picking up her son and cuddling him. He squirmed to get out of her arms. "Maid is just going to give Fluffy a bath and fix up his cuts so he doesn't hurt anymore."
Sesshoumaru frowned and glared at the frightened servant, not buying the ploy, and spit out a string of indignant exclamations. "He heals himself, like any youkai! He doesn't need help. And he hates baths, just like I do! No! Give him back now!" He continued to struggle until his mother lifted him up by the scruff of his neck and carried him out to the garden, leaving the relieved maid to complete her task unmolested.
"Look, my dear," she said, gesturing to the fishpond to distract him. "Your father has sent back new koi for us. Would you like to name them?" Ah, that did the trick. Sesshoumaru wiggled free of her grasp and sprinted to the stone edge of the pond to peer down at the new arrivals, fascinated by the translucent orange and white fins.
"I'll call that one Killer!" he shouted excitedly, pointing at an innocuous- looking speckled fish. "And that one's Death, and that other one is Bloodlust, and that white one can be.Evil."
"You've already named three pets Evil, dear. Are you sure you don't want to try something else?"
The child looked pensive. "Oh, yeah." He frowned and thought for a moment, then brightened. "Ooh! Can I call him Soul Devourer, instead?" Killer and Bloodlust swam to the surface and snapped their mouths open and shut in search of crumbs, peering up at the boy with wide, stupid eyes.
"Of course, my child." A weary expression crossed her face, but she'd long since learned not to argue about the minor things - she needed to save her strength for the major battles, like bedtime and housebreaking.
The naming completed, Sesshoumaru was already getting fidgety. "Mama," he whimpered, "I want my Fluffy back, now! Where is he?" He stuck out his bottom lip in a pout that had been cute the first fourteen thousand times, but now only made his mother want to pout, herself. She knew the maid was washing and mending the toy, which her son liked to carry around draped over a shoulder, at breakneck speed. She only had to keep the child distracted for a few more minutes, at most, before this crisis ended and the next began. Glancing frantically around for something new and interesting, she sighed once more and send a silent prayer to the gods that he'd grow out of this soon.
Thank goodness it was only a phase.
It wasn't that she didn't love her son. After all, he was the only one she had, and wasn't a mother's love supposed to be unconditional? He was bright, and talented, and good-looking - everything a parent could wish for.
Well, almost everything. There was that matter of discipline - the same matter that had her mate tuck his tail between his legs and run to "check on the outlands" after a week at home with them. The pup had been nigh on insufferable ever since he'd been old enough to talk, and fathers simply weren't expected to have that much patience. She, on the other hand, was a mother - and mothers endured, or so she had been told. Somehow, she felt tricked.
"MAAAAAAAAAMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" The woman sighed dejectedly. There it was - right on time. One hour, three minutes, and nine seconds after she put little Sesshoumaru down for his afternoon nap, he was up and shrieking. This time the potted plants in the hallway had succumbed to the soul- rending sound, and they wilted as she hurried to the nursery to shut him up. Gathering her skirts in a hand, she bustled into the room just in time to see her dear son take a swipe at the nursemaid with his sharp little claws.
"Mama, she took my Fluffy!" he whined petulantly, stamping his foot and gesturing at the ragged, tattered remains of a stuffed animal that the maid had taken to wash and mend. His mother rolled her eyes. Her son was going through that tiresome phase where he latched himself onto some comfort object and refused to let go, come hell or high water. A creature from the darkest depths of the netherworld could have threatened to tear his arm off, and he still wouldn't have abandoned that . . . that thing. She supposed it could be worse, though. Her sister's child had carried a rabbit skull around for three years, even to bed, insisting that it was his imaginary friend. Her pup wasn't anywhere near that neurotic.
"Relax, child, she will give it back," she soothed, picking up her son and cuddling him. He squirmed to get out of her arms. "Maid is just going to give Fluffy a bath and fix up his cuts so he doesn't hurt anymore."
Sesshoumaru frowned and glared at the frightened servant, not buying the ploy, and spit out a string of indignant exclamations. "He heals himself, like any youkai! He doesn't need help. And he hates baths, just like I do! No! Give him back now!" He continued to struggle until his mother lifted him up by the scruff of his neck and carried him out to the garden, leaving the relieved maid to complete her task unmolested.
"Look, my dear," she said, gesturing to the fishpond to distract him. "Your father has sent back new koi for us. Would you like to name them?" Ah, that did the trick. Sesshoumaru wiggled free of her grasp and sprinted to the stone edge of the pond to peer down at the new arrivals, fascinated by the translucent orange and white fins.
"I'll call that one Killer!" he shouted excitedly, pointing at an innocuous- looking speckled fish. "And that one's Death, and that other one is Bloodlust, and that white one can be.Evil."
"You've already named three pets Evil, dear. Are you sure you don't want to try something else?"
The child looked pensive. "Oh, yeah." He frowned and thought for a moment, then brightened. "Ooh! Can I call him Soul Devourer, instead?" Killer and Bloodlust swam to the surface and snapped their mouths open and shut in search of crumbs, peering up at the boy with wide, stupid eyes.
"Of course, my child." A weary expression crossed her face, but she'd long since learned not to argue about the minor things - she needed to save her strength for the major battles, like bedtime and housebreaking.
The naming completed, Sesshoumaru was already getting fidgety. "Mama," he whimpered, "I want my Fluffy back, now! Where is he?" He stuck out his bottom lip in a pout that had been cute the first fourteen thousand times, but now only made his mother want to pout, herself. She knew the maid was washing and mending the toy, which her son liked to carry around draped over a shoulder, at breakneck speed. She only had to keep the child distracted for a few more minutes, at most, before this crisis ended and the next began. Glancing frantically around for something new and interesting, she sighed once more and send a silent prayer to the gods that he'd grow out of this soon.
Thank goodness it was only a phase.