Disclaimer: Don't own nothin'!! ^_^
Warning: OK, my darling readers, there will be a bit of violence here in a moment. Please don't panic; it's just a little temper tantrum at the most (you'll see what I mean when you read it).
Chapter 33
The Duties of a Whore
The next morning, I wake from a sleep that seems to have lasted for centuries. I feel exhilarated and exhausted at the same time, refreshed by my long rest and withered from being idle for so long. I feel like my life has been both renewed and doomed. I feel as if I am now living in a dream, a shred of reality attached to my consciousness like a severed finger clinging to the knuckle by a scrap of skin. I feel lost. But I also feel free. I feel supine. But I also feel a wonderful surge of potency in my soul.
The sun gently streams into my room, falling across the floor beside my bed, illuminating my face. I am surprised at how mild my return to the Black Dove has been. I don't know what I expected, but certainly not this. To have control of my life suddenly handed back to me after five long years evokes a strange feeling in me that I am unable to place my finger upon. I feel both joy and unfamiliar helplessness, as if I don't know what exactly to do with this new freedom. Gratefulness seems to be the only emotion that isn't mingled with the others that have tangled themselves together. Tasuki's immense love for me has given me not only something wondrous to look forward to upon his return, but has also assured my safety until he is able to protect me himself. And for this will I forever be thankful to him.
I want to see him so badly, even though it has been only a day since he left. I desire to speak to him, to tell him how much I love him and how truly thankful I am. I want to tell him that I feel blessed by the gods after so many years of feeling damned. I want to tell him that by falling in love with him, I have been delivered from hell itself.
And then I hear my door creak open, the wood squeaking in protest as it rubs against the iron hinges; and I realize that although I may be safe from the flames, I am still trapped by the iron locks on the gates.
I lie quietly on my side in my bed, cradling my bruised face in my palms, my eyes closed and face lax, feigning sleep. I am aware of his presence by my bed. I smell his sweat, the masculine scent of his skin and clothes. It's a scent I once was fond of, when he would come unannounced into my room as he is doing now, and do with me what I now refer to as making love. He was once a gentle brute. A kind beast. But I never made love with him, at least not as I saw it. I would couple with him, of course; it was expected of me. But I would never make love; something like that didn't exist to me then. He would be careful with me at least, not force himself upon me or injure my young, frail body. And because of his tenderness towards me, I came to enjoy his midnight visits to my bedroom.
Now I feel nothing but hatred radiating from his husky body and fiendish demeanor. The tender feeling so close to love that my pimp once had for me- -his little one, his dear little Tansho--has transformed into the boiling contempt of a man scorned and humiliated. A man backed into a dark corner by an emperor's decree. A man shamed and conquered by a woman. Not just a woman.a commonplace prostitute. Not just a prostitute.a slave.
Or this is what his eyes see, at least.
But not mine. I see the truth. I see what his pride has blinded him to.
I see a man shown the reality of the brutal life his own hands have fashioned. A man who has been shown his true self-an arrogant, greedy, and demonic coward who has been exposed and warned of his evil deeds. Who has been given a chance to repent. Who has seen the consequences of his diabolical actions.
And who is still blinded by his pride. Refusing to feel any remorse.
I fling my eyes open and capture his in my gaze, bearing down hard into him with my unearthly gray eyes, trying to let him see what he has reduced me to. But I meet the dark, bitter, hateful eyes of a man who has been embarrassed more than his arrogance will tolerate. He stares back at me, meeting my tenacious glare. Neither of us move. I lie still upon my linens, my face still cradled in my hands; he stands like a marble statue at my bedside, his chin lowered, his arms at his sides. And we glare at each, one trying to intimidate the other enough to make them buckle. It is a foolish and lost cause. Both of us know that it is doing us no good. And yet we stare on, adamant on not backing down, determined to show the other that we are stronger than they think-stronger than they ever thought possible.
And suddenly, the stoic, passive expression on his ruddy face begins to distort into the face of a devil. Red and furious, eyes wide and streaked with blood from burst vessels, lips drawn thin, eyebrows knit closely and dangerously together, jaw taunt and trembling. He has become a monster, a ravaging machine with no mind or conscience, a wild animal set on bringing down the thing that evades him-the thing that dares to rise against him.
And like a bolt of lightning from the midnight sky, he is falling upon my placid body, pressing himself down on me, crushing me beneath the monstrous weight of his massive body. His hands wrap themselves around my throat and fuse as tightly as an iron lock. I claw at them out of sheer instinct, but I don't feel him crushing my air pipe. He isn't squeezing. He isn't beginning to choke the breath from my lungs as I expect him to. He holds me gently and carefully, like a delicate porcelain doll he is afraid of crushing; but I wrap my own hands around his wrists anyway, ready to pull frantically if I need to.
He begins to lift me from my place on my bed, my body sighing as it is relieved of his brutal weight. He pulls me to my feet and stands me upright in front of him, his fingers still meshed together around my neck. And there we stand for a long time, him holding me in a way that would allow him to kill me quite quickly and easily. A simple twist of his wrists and my body could crumple to the floor. But he knows very well the consequences of any harmful action toward me, which sets my mind to working.
And I suddenly realize. I feel it hit my chest like a boulder thrown from a cliff. I am safe from harm. But that is all. I am still a prostitute. I am still a slave. And I understand what my heart is screaming at me. I have not been rescued from my duties as a whore of the Black Dove brothel. And Shingen knows. And now I do as well.
But, for some strange and disturbing reason, I am callous to my unfortunate realization. I lift my chin defiantly and brazenly, leveling my eyes with his. And I challenge him. I dare the bastard to do anything. Speak. Act. Think. I let him know with the harsh brilliance of my gaze that I am no fool, that I know what is still expected of me, and that I am not afraid. I let him know that I am numb to what should stab me in the very core of my body and soul. My eyes scream at his with all their might, telling him that I don't give a shit.
But he is deaf to my defying screams. He ignores the intensity of my gaze. And he looks at me as if he is once again the victor. I feel nauseous at his disgusting arrogance, but I swallow the foul-tasting bile and keep my chin elevated, determined.
"You've been very industrious, my dear," he snarls into my face, his words seeping through his clenched teeth, "But you only got away from a few good slaps in the face.that's all. I will expect you to go to work tonight as usual; I trust you won't attempt to buck the authority of your owner."
Of course he had to remind me of who he is to reassure his own weak self. As long as he knows that I still belong to him legally and am bound by law to obey him, he feels safe. And, yes, I know that I am obligated to continue to work as a whore, earning my wage by way of my own self. And for some strange reason, it still does not unnerve or discourage me. I am still safe. I will still survive. But from this point on, in order to protect his own neck, Shingen will distort the Imperial decree to be able to keep his dignity. Even now, staring into his anger-reddened face, I know what he will dare to do. He'll announce to our clients that they are no longer allowed to take all possible liberties with myself and the other women. He'll say that we are to remain unharmed from now on in. And, of course, our customers will obey due to the popularity of the women of the Black Dove. It is said that we outshine even the courtesans of the imperial harem, even though our run-down brothel barely even compares to the silk sheets and opium and perfume-scented air of the inner-city bordellos. Our pimp's decision will be respected-simply because his whores are desired. And so shall the Emperor's decree endure under a false and tainted name.
I know that Tasuki did not mean to overlook the fact that a decree ensuring my safety would do nothing for my unfortunate relationship with Shingen. He would not purposefully see to it that I was forced to continue on with my work as a prostitute; in fact, I know he would have tried his hardest to see that I be entirely freed of my obligations to Shingen and the Black Dove.
So what went wrong? Why was mention of my profession left out of the decree? Why would Tasuki be unable to rescue me from my degrading titles of whore and harlot?
Even though I fight vigorously against the feeling of defeat now sweeping over me, I cannot withstand it. I was able to hold my composure until Shingen left my room, but now I am crumbling in on myself. I feel alone. I feel as if I have been hexed. I feel as if malevolence itself has searched me out.
But I am determined to survive until my beloved has returned to me. Even though my question is unanswered, I still feel nothing but adoration for Tasuki. He is my reason for living now. I have nothing else in this world, and I understand this. The women are well protected by the emperor's decree, but we must all continue our work. I will continue to live my life as I am expected; but in my heart I will keep the image of the mountain, to remind me of the life that is yet to come. The life that will soon sweep me away from this place of desperation and brutality to a gentle place that will become my haven. Soon, nothing will matter but the sound of the insects in the trees, the smell of rain soaked into the earth, and the warmth of Tasuki's arms wrapped securely around me, protecting me even though I have nothing else left in this world to be protected from.
And it is these wonderful dreams that give my weak heart strength again.
A/N: Well, I decided to update a little earlier than normal (I usually try to keep to the chapter-a-week schedule, but I'm kinda busy with work and volunteering right now, so I have to grab the time to update whenever I can). Well, as you can see by this brand new chapter, the drama has been turned on wide open. ^_^ So, what will happen with Tansho and her clients? Will the emperor's decree be honored or walked all over? And what about Shingen and his continual case of bastardness? ^_^ Don't you just love me taunting you with these nasty little teasers? Hee Hee.
Replies to reviewers:
Frenchiecangal: So many compliments!! I don't know what to do with all of them!! Thanks, though, for all the nice things you said. I appreciate them wholly! Well, as for Tasuki and what's going on with him while he's away-I'm pretty much following closely with the anime as to the events in Hokkan and Sairo. The war at the end of the TV series is a major part of this fic. It will change a lot of things that I have going on at the time it begins (I won't tell you any more than that, though! ^_^) Tasuki's absence also gives me a chance to totally focus on Tansho and my other OC's. I'm glad my readers are so fond of them 'cause usually fanfic readers HATE OC's! Thanks again for the great review!
Lee Larrabee: Short reviews are just as helpful as long ones! It tells me that you not only read and liked my new chap, but that you're taking the time to encourage me to write more! ^_^ Thanks!
Mary: Soon!! You'll find out soon!! ^_^ And thanks for the congrats- I can't wait to start college this fall!! ^_^
Chaotic Demon: I'm glad both you and your friend like "Tansho" so much!!
Galena Silveroak: Kick-ass pen name, girl! So Celticish!! ^_^ And thanks a bunch for the compliments!
Jazzy: Thank you!! You're cool, too!!! * glomps her back *
Nako-chan: Well actually, I'm starting college this fall! ^_^ And thanks for the great compliment!
Mystic: Calm down-you must be calm!! ^_^ And I LOVE cliffhangers! How could I ever kill them off?! ^_^
Thanks to all of you, my dear readers!!! You so encouraging and sweet to me it's almost unbelievable!! ^_^ Love you all!
Warning: OK, my darling readers, there will be a bit of violence here in a moment. Please don't panic; it's just a little temper tantrum at the most (you'll see what I mean when you read it).
Chapter 33
The Duties of a Whore
The next morning, I wake from a sleep that seems to have lasted for centuries. I feel exhilarated and exhausted at the same time, refreshed by my long rest and withered from being idle for so long. I feel like my life has been both renewed and doomed. I feel as if I am now living in a dream, a shred of reality attached to my consciousness like a severed finger clinging to the knuckle by a scrap of skin. I feel lost. But I also feel free. I feel supine. But I also feel a wonderful surge of potency in my soul.
The sun gently streams into my room, falling across the floor beside my bed, illuminating my face. I am surprised at how mild my return to the Black Dove has been. I don't know what I expected, but certainly not this. To have control of my life suddenly handed back to me after five long years evokes a strange feeling in me that I am unable to place my finger upon. I feel both joy and unfamiliar helplessness, as if I don't know what exactly to do with this new freedom. Gratefulness seems to be the only emotion that isn't mingled with the others that have tangled themselves together. Tasuki's immense love for me has given me not only something wondrous to look forward to upon his return, but has also assured my safety until he is able to protect me himself. And for this will I forever be thankful to him.
I want to see him so badly, even though it has been only a day since he left. I desire to speak to him, to tell him how much I love him and how truly thankful I am. I want to tell him that I feel blessed by the gods after so many years of feeling damned. I want to tell him that by falling in love with him, I have been delivered from hell itself.
And then I hear my door creak open, the wood squeaking in protest as it rubs against the iron hinges; and I realize that although I may be safe from the flames, I am still trapped by the iron locks on the gates.
I lie quietly on my side in my bed, cradling my bruised face in my palms, my eyes closed and face lax, feigning sleep. I am aware of his presence by my bed. I smell his sweat, the masculine scent of his skin and clothes. It's a scent I once was fond of, when he would come unannounced into my room as he is doing now, and do with me what I now refer to as making love. He was once a gentle brute. A kind beast. But I never made love with him, at least not as I saw it. I would couple with him, of course; it was expected of me. But I would never make love; something like that didn't exist to me then. He would be careful with me at least, not force himself upon me or injure my young, frail body. And because of his tenderness towards me, I came to enjoy his midnight visits to my bedroom.
Now I feel nothing but hatred radiating from his husky body and fiendish demeanor. The tender feeling so close to love that my pimp once had for me- -his little one, his dear little Tansho--has transformed into the boiling contempt of a man scorned and humiliated. A man backed into a dark corner by an emperor's decree. A man shamed and conquered by a woman. Not just a woman.a commonplace prostitute. Not just a prostitute.a slave.
Or this is what his eyes see, at least.
But not mine. I see the truth. I see what his pride has blinded him to.
I see a man shown the reality of the brutal life his own hands have fashioned. A man who has been shown his true self-an arrogant, greedy, and demonic coward who has been exposed and warned of his evil deeds. Who has been given a chance to repent. Who has seen the consequences of his diabolical actions.
And who is still blinded by his pride. Refusing to feel any remorse.
I fling my eyes open and capture his in my gaze, bearing down hard into him with my unearthly gray eyes, trying to let him see what he has reduced me to. But I meet the dark, bitter, hateful eyes of a man who has been embarrassed more than his arrogance will tolerate. He stares back at me, meeting my tenacious glare. Neither of us move. I lie still upon my linens, my face still cradled in my hands; he stands like a marble statue at my bedside, his chin lowered, his arms at his sides. And we glare at each, one trying to intimidate the other enough to make them buckle. It is a foolish and lost cause. Both of us know that it is doing us no good. And yet we stare on, adamant on not backing down, determined to show the other that we are stronger than they think-stronger than they ever thought possible.
And suddenly, the stoic, passive expression on his ruddy face begins to distort into the face of a devil. Red and furious, eyes wide and streaked with blood from burst vessels, lips drawn thin, eyebrows knit closely and dangerously together, jaw taunt and trembling. He has become a monster, a ravaging machine with no mind or conscience, a wild animal set on bringing down the thing that evades him-the thing that dares to rise against him.
And like a bolt of lightning from the midnight sky, he is falling upon my placid body, pressing himself down on me, crushing me beneath the monstrous weight of his massive body. His hands wrap themselves around my throat and fuse as tightly as an iron lock. I claw at them out of sheer instinct, but I don't feel him crushing my air pipe. He isn't squeezing. He isn't beginning to choke the breath from my lungs as I expect him to. He holds me gently and carefully, like a delicate porcelain doll he is afraid of crushing; but I wrap my own hands around his wrists anyway, ready to pull frantically if I need to.
He begins to lift me from my place on my bed, my body sighing as it is relieved of his brutal weight. He pulls me to my feet and stands me upright in front of him, his fingers still meshed together around my neck. And there we stand for a long time, him holding me in a way that would allow him to kill me quite quickly and easily. A simple twist of his wrists and my body could crumple to the floor. But he knows very well the consequences of any harmful action toward me, which sets my mind to working.
And I suddenly realize. I feel it hit my chest like a boulder thrown from a cliff. I am safe from harm. But that is all. I am still a prostitute. I am still a slave. And I understand what my heart is screaming at me. I have not been rescued from my duties as a whore of the Black Dove brothel. And Shingen knows. And now I do as well.
But, for some strange and disturbing reason, I am callous to my unfortunate realization. I lift my chin defiantly and brazenly, leveling my eyes with his. And I challenge him. I dare the bastard to do anything. Speak. Act. Think. I let him know with the harsh brilliance of my gaze that I am no fool, that I know what is still expected of me, and that I am not afraid. I let him know that I am numb to what should stab me in the very core of my body and soul. My eyes scream at his with all their might, telling him that I don't give a shit.
But he is deaf to my defying screams. He ignores the intensity of my gaze. And he looks at me as if he is once again the victor. I feel nauseous at his disgusting arrogance, but I swallow the foul-tasting bile and keep my chin elevated, determined.
"You've been very industrious, my dear," he snarls into my face, his words seeping through his clenched teeth, "But you only got away from a few good slaps in the face.that's all. I will expect you to go to work tonight as usual; I trust you won't attempt to buck the authority of your owner."
Of course he had to remind me of who he is to reassure his own weak self. As long as he knows that I still belong to him legally and am bound by law to obey him, he feels safe. And, yes, I know that I am obligated to continue to work as a whore, earning my wage by way of my own self. And for some strange reason, it still does not unnerve or discourage me. I am still safe. I will still survive. But from this point on, in order to protect his own neck, Shingen will distort the Imperial decree to be able to keep his dignity. Even now, staring into his anger-reddened face, I know what he will dare to do. He'll announce to our clients that they are no longer allowed to take all possible liberties with myself and the other women. He'll say that we are to remain unharmed from now on in. And, of course, our customers will obey due to the popularity of the women of the Black Dove. It is said that we outshine even the courtesans of the imperial harem, even though our run-down brothel barely even compares to the silk sheets and opium and perfume-scented air of the inner-city bordellos. Our pimp's decision will be respected-simply because his whores are desired. And so shall the Emperor's decree endure under a false and tainted name.
I know that Tasuki did not mean to overlook the fact that a decree ensuring my safety would do nothing for my unfortunate relationship with Shingen. He would not purposefully see to it that I was forced to continue on with my work as a prostitute; in fact, I know he would have tried his hardest to see that I be entirely freed of my obligations to Shingen and the Black Dove.
So what went wrong? Why was mention of my profession left out of the decree? Why would Tasuki be unable to rescue me from my degrading titles of whore and harlot?
Even though I fight vigorously against the feeling of defeat now sweeping over me, I cannot withstand it. I was able to hold my composure until Shingen left my room, but now I am crumbling in on myself. I feel alone. I feel as if I have been hexed. I feel as if malevolence itself has searched me out.
But I am determined to survive until my beloved has returned to me. Even though my question is unanswered, I still feel nothing but adoration for Tasuki. He is my reason for living now. I have nothing else in this world, and I understand this. The women are well protected by the emperor's decree, but we must all continue our work. I will continue to live my life as I am expected; but in my heart I will keep the image of the mountain, to remind me of the life that is yet to come. The life that will soon sweep me away from this place of desperation and brutality to a gentle place that will become my haven. Soon, nothing will matter but the sound of the insects in the trees, the smell of rain soaked into the earth, and the warmth of Tasuki's arms wrapped securely around me, protecting me even though I have nothing else left in this world to be protected from.
And it is these wonderful dreams that give my weak heart strength again.
A/N: Well, I decided to update a little earlier than normal (I usually try to keep to the chapter-a-week schedule, but I'm kinda busy with work and volunteering right now, so I have to grab the time to update whenever I can). Well, as you can see by this brand new chapter, the drama has been turned on wide open. ^_^ So, what will happen with Tansho and her clients? Will the emperor's decree be honored or walked all over? And what about Shingen and his continual case of bastardness? ^_^ Don't you just love me taunting you with these nasty little teasers? Hee Hee.
Replies to reviewers:
Frenchiecangal: So many compliments!! I don't know what to do with all of them!! Thanks, though, for all the nice things you said. I appreciate them wholly! Well, as for Tasuki and what's going on with him while he's away-I'm pretty much following closely with the anime as to the events in Hokkan and Sairo. The war at the end of the TV series is a major part of this fic. It will change a lot of things that I have going on at the time it begins (I won't tell you any more than that, though! ^_^) Tasuki's absence also gives me a chance to totally focus on Tansho and my other OC's. I'm glad my readers are so fond of them 'cause usually fanfic readers HATE OC's! Thanks again for the great review!
Lee Larrabee: Short reviews are just as helpful as long ones! It tells me that you not only read and liked my new chap, but that you're taking the time to encourage me to write more! ^_^ Thanks!
Mary: Soon!! You'll find out soon!! ^_^ And thanks for the congrats- I can't wait to start college this fall!! ^_^
Chaotic Demon: I'm glad both you and your friend like "Tansho" so much!!
Galena Silveroak: Kick-ass pen name, girl! So Celticish!! ^_^ And thanks a bunch for the compliments!
Jazzy: Thank you!! You're cool, too!!! * glomps her back *
Nako-chan: Well actually, I'm starting college this fall! ^_^ And thanks for the great compliment!
Mystic: Calm down-you must be calm!! ^_^ And I LOVE cliffhangers! How could I ever kill them off?! ^_^
Thanks to all of you, my dear readers!!! You so encouraging and sweet to me it's almost unbelievable!! ^_^ Love you all!