Series: Inuyasha
Disclaimer: Inuyasha and its characters are the intellectual property of one Rumiko Takahashi. I only make bad fanfiction about it.
Author's notes: Back to Kagome POV. Please remember to review, i appreciate all the comments! Special shoutout to SmilingFool and TekoloKuautli, for being such awesome reviewers, your insights always make me smile and know that my meaning is being understood!:)
Without further ado, a much anticipated chapter. Enjoy!
Midwinter's Day Dream
888
And suddenly my thoughts then turned to you
Who came to me upon a winter's night,
When snow-sprites round my attic window flew,
Your hair disheveled, eyes aglow with light.
Claude McKay
888
"That was...something." Kagome commented carefully as she fell to the bed with a sag.
The Winter King did not answer. Instead, Sesshoumaru hovered about the balcony, youki restless, walking from one end to another in an endless loop that was sure to wear a trench on the orange ceramic tiles. His agitated attitude did not go unnoticed by Kagome, and only served to heighten her own growing nerves. After all, the celebration might be over, but their evening was just beginning.
It was their wedding night.
Kagome threw herself back on the bed, pressing the flat of her palms against her eyelids. The weight of their honeymoon had not been of note at all during the preparations. Sesshoumaru, King of chilly indifference, seemed undisposed to touch her, and she personally preferred if that rule remain reinforced for the remainder of their arrangement. Kaede had, much to her dismay, instructed Kagome that should the need arise, the Princess would be required to seduce her new husband in order to gain leverage, any sort of advantage really, in their new matrimony; but the speech had been given so half-heartedly that Kagome had not given it any serious consideration. As much as she was willing to play-pretend house with the handsome Winterling, she wasn't sure if she was ready to, ah, go that far yet. In fact, apart from that night where he had rebuffed her advances, Kagome had not given intimacy a second thought at all.
Not really.
Maybe.
Alright, he was beautiful and had ridiculously pretty hair so perhaps a wayward girlish thought had snuck through her mental walls; but it was difficult to picture the solemn, icy ruler in any sort of passionate way that would inspire Kagome's most private carnal desires, so really, she hadn't indulged much in fantasies.
At least, not until the kiss.
That stupid kiss.
Kagome curled into a ball, away from her husband - my husband!, she mentally shrilled - and covered her face in an attempt to hide the rather impressive blush on her cheeks that was crawling down her neck and settling on her chest.
Once the vows had been exchanged - which in itself had been an immense source of stress when Sesshoumaru had irrationally paused mid-speech, like that the frick was that about - Kagome had expected a chaste touch of lips to seal the contract of their holy matrimony, as was proper etiquette in a Winter wedding.
Sesshoumaru had had other ideas.
For a race completely abhorrent to public displays of affection, or any form of physicality, Sesshoumaru was surprisingly talented in the art of snogging. Kagome had barely leaned forward, lips puckered cartoonishly for a quick peck, when Sesshoumaru grabbed both sides of her face and crashed her lips against his own with wanton abandon.
The inside of his mouth was curiously cool, like inhaling ice, and Kagome had shivered as a clever tongue found it's way past her lips and down her throat, not unpleasantly. It was all Kagome could do but cling helplessly to the front of his kimono as Sesshoumaru lay claim over her mouth like a warlord during battle, ravaging her and leaving no room for air. His embrace was demanding, all-consuming, dizzying. Had Kagome been lucid enough from the devastating kiss, she would have been amused to see the look of absolute horror on half of the fairy court, or at Kaede's face turning an alarming shade of purple, her mouth so thin it was practically non-existent.
After a sordid amount of time for a wedding kiss, Sesshoumaru pulled apart with an audible pop and swollen lips.
"What was that?" Kagome had hissed breathlessly, throwing him a look of pure alarm - which was dimmed in its intensity by a betraying blush - still reeling from the moment.
She had not needed to elaborate for Sesshoumaru to catch on. His breath was ragged, his pupils dilated, yet his voice was placid as a frozen lake. "You said tongue was always involved in Summerling kissing. I only meant to oblige."
Stupid kiss. Stupid pretty demon lord. Stupid, stupid, stupid-
Why did he have to be so good at it?!
"Kagome?"
The young woman flinched on the bed, guiltily peeking up from between her fingers. Hopefully the stories about the Winter King being a mind-reader were not true, although with how easy to read Kagome was, he wouldn't have to be a telepath to guess at her guttering mind. "Y-Yes, my Lord?"
Sesshoumaru was still idling by the balcony, his striking figure - still fully decked out in Winterling regalia - standing out among all the Summerkin furnishings in the room. He looked so distinctly out of place, both physically and emotionally, like a stage-hand who had accidentally walked onto the stage mid-play and had no idea where the exit was.
It was almost endearing.
"If you need privacy to change into appropriate sleeping attire, say the word and I shall step outside immediately." the demon offered, his voice curiously nonchalant. Kagome was shrouded in the golden cloak once more, as Sesshoumaru had been quick to drape it on her after the kiss; but underneath, she was still clad in the provocative little number that had caused much uproar among the Winter sidhe. By the mannner in which Sesshoumaru was pointedly avoiding looking over to her side of the room, perhaps he too was overly conscious about her current wardrobe situation. The thought was making Kagome self-conscious now too, and she'd prefer if she were a little bit more modestly clothed, especially as her mind had taken permanent residence in Hornytown, but...
"No, that's quite alright; you may stay for now, Lord Sesshoumaru. I still have to remove my jewelry and head-dressing before I can even begin to think about changing my dress. Otherwise, I'll just get glitter from my hair on my nightgown and that would be quite tedious to clean up."
With an irritated sigh, Kagome began the arduous and sure to be long process of removing the gems from her hair and setting them on her nightstand.
"Would you like me to call a servant to assist you with that?" Sesshoumaru offered again, rather helpfully. Kagome shook her head, clumsy fingers plucking the shiny stones with mastered, but tired, dexterity.
"The servants have been given strict instructions by the council to avoid our wing for the night. To allow us, you know...privacy."
Sesshoumaru caught her meaning immediately, and coughed. "Right."
"Right." she replied flatly, wrestling with both her annoying blush and a particularly tricky gem. It was hard to see where exactly each stone had been braided.
After a moment of fruitless struggling, Kagome dropped her hands into her lap with a huff. Her arms were tired, and she was sure there were still dozens of little twinkling gems in her hair but she could not be bothered to deal with them at present. It had been a long day, emotionally draining, and she could feel the wave of exhaustion lap gently at her senses. She sighed, wondering if her handmaidens would be upset at her the next morning for not properly taking them out, or if Sesshoumaru would think her disgusting for going to bed without getting changed. The prim and flawless Winter King was already repulsed by her general existence; no need to give him ammunition by adding "poor hygiene habits" to the growing list of prejudices against her.
A slight weight settled on the bedding beside her, and with a jolt she turned to find Sesshoumaru sitting stiffly next to her, a cautious distance away but still much closer than before.
More importantly, they were both in bed-
Sesshoumaru reached out a hand, palm facing up, looking dead into her gaze with those alien yellow eyes of his.
"Allow me?" he offered, sight shifting from her eyes to her hair, intent clear in his tone.
"My Lord, you don't have to, really-"
"I insist. It is the least I could do...for my wife."
Kagome blushed at the word. That would take some getting used to, for sure. Wordlessly, Kagome turned away and offered the back of her head. Sesshoumaru swiftly set to work, sharp claws gently and deftly removing the jeweled accesories. Thankfully, he worked in silence and Kagome was allowed a short reprieve to disassociate from the strange scenario of her mortal enemy helping her get ready for bed.
"Finished." Sesshoumaru asserted with finality, as he placed the final ruby by the bedside table. It had taken a total of ten minutes, but Kagome's hair was jewel-free and out of the complex hairstyle. Boldly, Sesshoumaru's hands reached into her hair and weaved through it, the braids becoming undone under the gentle tug and pull of his long fingers.
Beneath him, Kagome hummed sleepily, like a content fox cub. "Thank you, my Lord." she mumbled and, sleepily, she wondered if Sesshoumaru did this sort of thing often with past lovers. He seemed quite used to it...
Sesshoumaru swept the bulk of her wavy hair over one side of her neck, his hands sliding from her scalp to rest gently atop her bare shoulders. Sometime during the removal of hair beads, Kagome's cloak had slid down her back, and the feel of his palms against the sensitive flesh of her upper back had her breathing rather shallow.
Static crackled in the humid air of the night, and with mortified realisation, Kagome knew it was because of his restless youki clashing against her heightened holy powers. The frenetic energy reflected her own frantic emotions, mirroring quite by accident the speeding beating in her chest.
This had been the longest he had ever maintained physical contact with the young raven, and his claws itched greedily, relishing the feel of her soft skin beneath his palms. Slowly, carefully, he slid his hands down her arms.
They both heard and felt the hitch in Kagome's breath, the gentle tremble of her body giving away her awareness; yet she did not pull away.
Perhaps emboldened by her stillness, Sesshoumaru leaned forward and pressed an open kiss upon her nape, the action strangely tender. His lips were cool against her heated skin, leaving an icy chill imprinted on the spot as he parted them and pulled away, and curiously Kagome wondered how those plush lips would feel elsewhere, in other heated places of her body.
But she was getting ahead of herself. She needed to make sure-
Turning around slowly, Kagome looked - really looked - Sesshoumaru in the face for the first time since that dark night weeks ago, when he broke into her room and proposed. Back then, he had terrified her, hiding in the shadows like a boogeyman. Tonight, the fear still lingered on the surface but it felt...different. Transformed into something unfamiliar and heady.
The Demon King was beautiful in the yellow glow of the full moon; his skin gleamed pearlescent, his eyes shone a warm amber like sweet champagne. More than monster of legend, he resembled an ethereal god of myth; King Oberon in her very bed chambers. Kagome wondered what it was he was seeing now too; his eyes were soft, unguarded, and brimming with something the young Princess couldn't quite identify. She'd never seen that look before, part wistful and hungry, and inside Kagome ached.
They were sitting so close that the moment charged and she reached out to gently touch him – he stayed perfectly still, unflinching, eyes magnetically glued to her own - and as she traced the curve of his brows with her thumb, the softness of his lower lip, the outline of his jaw, the stripes of his cheeks, Kagome's skin began to dream.
"Thank you." Kagome muttered breathlessly.
A single white brow jumped, arched quizzically, though the intensity of his stare remained. "You have already thanked me, my Lady."
Kagome shook her head briefly, a shy smile adorning her face. "No, not for the hair. For..." Kagome floundered, unsure of how to phrase her thoughts.
Sesshoumaru, ever the perceptive man, seemed to understand even without her wording it.
"Peace is my gift to you, Kagome, as much as it is for myself. Your gratitude is welcome, but not necessary."
They were both whispering, having dropped their voices into the quiet of the night and had thus, inadvertently, drawn even nearer. Kagome realized that there was something she wanted, needed, to do.
"In the Summerlands, it is expected for newlyweds to exchange gifts." She confessed, not without guilt. She hadn't purchased anything. Truthfully, Kagome had not perceived their arrangement as real, not until that very moment. It had been an intricate game of make-believe, a child's playful charade of 'house', and it was only now, sharing shallow breaths with the man before her that she realized the weight of their decision. She was married to this man. For eternity. The thought had previously sent her into panicked hysterics but now...
Sesshoumaru was hanging on to her words with bated breath, allowing her time to collect her thoughts. Patient. Undemanding. Perhaps even...Kind.
"I confess, I did not prepare a gift in advance. I apologize." she whispered, pulling closer to him, hoping this was the correct thing to do, steeling her resolve- "But perhaps my Lord will accept this instead."
Unable to hold back any longer, she kissed him.
Or had intended to. At the last second, Kagome had chickened out, instead pressing her lips to the corner of Sesshoumaru's mouth shyly. A half-moon kiss to mirror the half-moon tattoo on his forehead.
At first, nothing happened, Sesshoumaru remaining a frozen statue and she suspected she had made a mistake - like last time - and began to pull away, embarrassment welling up behind her eyes -
And then she heard a strangled growl, and Sesshoumaru pulled her back in, kissing with a ferocity that nearly frightened the young princess. An explosion of frosted energy whipped around the room, crackling from within the man and blasting outwards, and Kagome was sure that everybody in the castle would be able to sense the Winter King's demonic powers for miles. She shivered at the powerful wave, and in the back of her throat she whimpered against the demonic display of strength.
Suddenly, the sea of youki warmed as it enveloped Kagome, lapping against her pure energy in strokes that were as soothing as they were sensual. Sesshoumaru's kiss gradually deepened—controlled, confident, and thorough, yet still with a hint of wildness that had her grasping at his back helplessly. Kagome found herself opening her mouth with desperation, putting up no resistance as Sesshoumaru devoured her mercilessly and completely.
With a feral, animalistic sound, Sesshoumaru roughly pushed Kagome against the soft mattress, cradling her head with one hand and exploring her body with the other. As his hand flitted, snowflake-light, across her breast and down her stomach, Kagome tried not to melt into a moaning puddle of compliancy.
Sesshoumaru dragged his mouth - all sharp fangs and talented tongue - away from her lips and down to her throat where he ruthlessly bit down and sucked on her pulse, finding her sensitive spot almost immediately and drawing out moan after moan from the maiden. His scent, a heavy aroma of frozen waterfalls and peppermint, was intoxicatingly exotic, and Kagome desperately pushed against the thick garments creating a barrier between his naked skin and her need to taste him, to see if she could sample those scents with her tongue. A clever, small hand dug past the haori, down to the first layer of the yukata, past the thin kimono until with a triumphant sound, Kagome pressed her burning hand against a cool, chiseled chest.
Sesshoumaru hissed, the change in temperature startling, and he seemed to share her desire as his hand drifted lower down her stomach and his fingers hooked unto the chains on her hip, tugging insistently, his meaning clear. "Kagome." he groaned darkly into her chest, lost, desperate. "Fuck, I want- I need-"
Kagome nearly cried out, tears welling up at the assault to her senses, at the desire stripping her of all propriety and ladylike behaviour except for the need of Sesshoumaru, and his oddly-cooled skin, sweaty and firm against her own burning one. "Take it. T-take it, my Lord, you can have w-whatever you want. Please-"
All of a sudden, Sesshoumaru pulled away, red eyes wide and breathing ragged. Confused, Kagome reached for him, not wanting to put an end to the madness taking over her body, but froze at his expression. Her stomach dropped at what she found there.
Disgust.
Kagome flinched, her hand recoiling at the horror in his face. The action seemed to drag Sesshoumaru back to his senses, and he withdrew from the bed and away from it as if burned. Shakily, he adjusted his clothing and turned his head away from her. His face schooled once more into the mask of cool aloofness that he had so careful mastered, but it made no difference. Kagome had seen.
She repulsed him.
"That sort of..."gift"...will not be necessary, your Highness." Sesshoumaru grit out, not daring to look her in the eyes and creating a chasm of distance with a single use of her title. His mouth twisted, an echo of his earlier look of revulsion, as he retreated out of the room and to the balcony. Kagome watched his retreating back as he leaned against the balcony, his youki still wild and uncontrolled, realizing that perhaps it had not been arousal that had awakened it but a protective instinct instead; they were incompatible. Even if they said otherwise, their natures could not be denied and their clashing energies were proof of it.
"Goodnight." He dismissed in a clipped voice, looking out over the railing in obvious dismissal.
And there it was again...
Rejection.
Kagome fought against the bitter lump lodged in her throat, at the burning wetness in her eyes. How presumptuous of her to think that, just because he was male, she could win over the Winter King with her womanly wiles. Sesshoumaru would never be able to see her as anything else but his most mortal enemy, the Princess of the fairies who had killed so many of his people. She could timestamp, with almost scientific precision, the exact moment that Sesshoumaru realized the pathetic woman in his arms was a Summerling monster, a creature to be despised and not loved.
As if from watching from outside her body, Kagome stood and walked to her dresser. She divested herself of the complex chain-dress, switched it for a full-length cotton nightgown that was soothing, familiar. She sat at her vanity, gently dabbed at her face until she had removed her makeup, and finally brushed away the remaining glitter from her hair. And once that had been accomplished, she slithered under the covers of the bed, drawing them up to her chin, hiding from the judging full moon.
And still, Sesshoumaru remained standing at the balcony.
Kagome covered her face with her hands. Although earlier it had been due to a different, more innocent type of embarrassment, now it was due to shame, and deep-seated sorrow. For a shining, twinkling second, it had seemed like their arrangement could work, like their marriage could have been more than play-pretend. She had kissed Sesshoumaru...and he had kissed her back. It had felt real, raw, honest.
Although...perhaps that had been only from Kagome's perspective, and not his. She had spent so many years dreaming of a fairytale love, that she had been mistaken - yet again. She had confused resignation with love, pity with affection. Kagome was so pathetic.
Outside, Sesshoumaru's youki raged, lapping against the edges of her holy powers with shy trepidation. Comforting hesitantly.
Even now, as he had rejected her, he still attempted to appease her. The Demon King was foolishly too kind or too forgiving for his own good.
But his good-nature did not matter; Kagome could not mistake his patience with acceptance again. The Winter King didn't want her, and Kagome was powerless to change that. If he could live with that, a loveless marriage, then so could she. He had, quite selflessly, brought her the end of a thousand-year-old war - the greatest gift of all, and one Kagome would never be able to pay back. The very least the Princess could do was respectfully keep her distance.
Kagome sighed, letting her eyes drift close, and if a single tear slipped past, she didn't acknowledge it.
888
AN: did i mention this is a slow-burn fic? no? my bad lol