Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who helped me find Stepping Stones! Small chapter thanks to work and damnable Writer's block. I'm waiting for the climax! Although Nanashi and Tama decided to throw in a little back story, hinting at a small chance for a prequel. I only planned this story and Phantom Pains, and have no idea what else to do in this lovely fandom. Inspiration from Les Mis, King Lear, Neil Gaiman, and my Harry Potter stories. Tell me, does it count as inspiration if you wrote it? P.S I tried to add Jaken for you guys but he was being stubborn!

Chapter Eight: LetUsTell Sad Stories of the Death of Kings

Rin stood defiantly at the corner of the rooms, arms wrapped around her mirror like it was her heart itself. Zen stood; as best he could, in protection of his young ward- arms raised in caution, his eyes wide with fear crowned by a thin frown upon his brow. Miroku and Sango stood motionlessly in the doorway. There was ozone in the air; charged like a storm waiting to break. Everyone was holding their breath.

And standing with all the grace and destruction of a tempest, stood Nanashi. Her left hand hung lazily from her waist, the nails glowing as the whip she called forward waited.

"One swipe." She murmured. "The pup won't even feel it."

"Stand down, Nanashi." Sango ordered, her hands tightening around the Hiraikotsu.

Miroku's knuckles around his Rosary were white. "Do not make her repeat herself."

"You might catch me in a rush, but not before I turn the pup into shredded meat."

"There'd be nothing of you left to boast."

"This isn't about boasting!" Nanashi retorted. "It's about his life!"

"Sesshoumaru wouldn't want this."

"He isn't in a position to make his demands known." She turned, her molten gold eyes glistening in the sunlight. She reached up to brush her brow, tracing the curves of the moon on her crown nervously as it to assure it was still there. "And he is at risk of having no position at all."

"That is not for you to say!"

Her eyes settled on Rin, finally. "Do you know what you are killing?" She cocked her head to one side. "Do you know what will be destroyed because of you?"

Rin clutched her mirror tighter.

"He is the last of his kind. It was my duty to protect that lineage." Nanashi took a step forward. Rin met her eyes softly, stepping to meet her as far as Zen would let her. "You claim to love him, do you not? I appeal to that love then. Would you allow a Lord to die for something as mean and as plain as you?"

"Silence." Zen shouted, his hands beginning to glow slightly. "Be at peace that Inuyasha still lives."

"And what makes you think it is the Dog General's line I am loyal to?" Nanashi demanded. She seemed to catch the other's gaze, making her misstep slightly. The crest on her crown seemed to glow. "Sesshoumaru is far more then his father's son."

"But that is what you fear isn't it, Nameless one?" Zen murmured, "That he is more his father's son then anything else?"

Nanashi met his eyes, "You know too much, be mindful that it does not silence your tongue."

"Enough." Inuyasha walked forward, tugging on his robes to make them settle properly. Behind him, oddly enough a small creature had fallen into step. And as if to assure them that Inuyasha meant what he ordered, Jaken shifted the Staff of Two Heads from one shoulder to another. Inuyasha looked down at him but said nothing. "We're after Tama."

Nanashi bowed her head, in submission. "Tama will leave Sesshoumaru alone if she dies. What's more important to you, Rin or your brother?"

"I think you know the answer to that."

"I know that pain often silences the truth."

"No one touches Rin."

"Could you stop me?"

"I will try."

Jaken scoffed and flexed his fingers, dangerously. "I won't need to try, I just will."

Rin looked up, a smile blossoming from her small, tormented face when she heard Jaken's voice. She suddenly looked stronger, and happier at the vision of the small retainer. The mirror in her arms caught the sunlight and made it dance. "Jaken, it'll be over soon, won't it?"

Jaken nodded, "For good or bad, it'll be over soon."

Rin ran to him then, almost dropping the mirror as she rushed him. Her small arms enveloped the vassal as if it was he was the only thing left that made sense to her. "I don't want him to die, Master Jaken! I'll die if it means that he…"

"Listen to me, you stupid girl!" Jaken ordered, harshly. He pushed her away to meet her eyes. "Do not say such things! You will displease our Lord in speaking that way!" He, unlike Nanashi, ignored the others completely when he spoke. "Make your heart a stone, and show no fear in front in this! You represent Lord Sesshoumaru, do not disappoint."

Rin's small face twisted into a grim determined look, and she nodded. Jaken didn't remove his hands still she said she would, and then he looked up, motioning for Zen to come. "Tell me what this Hanyoi has been saying." He demanded, as he took Rin to the private rooms he had quartered. Glancing towards Sesshoumaru's rooms, Jaken shivered a little then stiffened and continued on his way.

Nanashi watched him go, then cursed and went off the other direction. Everyone let her go. Inuyasha waited for a time, before speaking. "What was that all about?"

"She's desperate to save Sesshoumaru," Miroku said. "Why?"

"She was his nursemaid as well as mine. It's a loyalty thing I guess."

"Zen said she was afraid of something. She said if Sesshoumaru dies, a bloodline will be destroyed. Do you know what she meant by that?"

"His mother's line."

Kagome tilted her head. "His mother?"

"It's a long story." Inuyasha shrugged off. "One I never paid much attention to. In the end, Sesshoumaru chose to side with his father. That war was over a long time ago. Now can we get back to this battle?"

Miroku was watching Inuyasha intently. "When did you become so reasonable, Inuyasha?"

He paused, and turned. For a moment, it looked like Inuyasha would strike Miroku but the anger passed from his face as quickly it had appeared. He instead fixed the Monk in a cool, unwavering stare that invoked strong memories of Sesshoumaru. When he spoke, even that held tones of his elder brother. "When it became needed."

XXXXXX

Lord Tama sits alone in the forest, watching the fire crack and tear away the weeds that he is feeding it. He marvels a little at the colors, realizing in a half-fevered brain, he has never seen anything so beautiful. The fire is complete in its destruction and unmoved. It merely goes about its task without prejudice or emotion; it is fire. Tama wishes he could be like this. He wishes he were young again, in the Inutaisho's court. He wishes his friends sat beside him now, talking about unimportant things and daring each other into stupid actions.

He can almost see them, these phantom friends. Tajomaru would be sitting upright, as always, the quietness of his features mixing with the shadows. He imagines the smell of women and estrus on Tajomaru and Tama smiles as his imaginings. He thinks he hears Ryuhoji's flute then, and inclining his heard, Tama closes his eyes to be entranced by the boy's soft melodies.

He thinks that Ryuhoji's plays for Sesshoumaru now. Plays for the savage, untamed heart pounding in Sesshoumaru's chest. He plays sad songs, and half sings doleful ballads of Kings and lovers, and brothers, and death. He sings to calm his Lord. He sings to ease the troubled spirit of Sesshoumaru.

Ryuhoji sings but no one listens.

For Sesshoumaru Lord is an untamed sword, a scourge that will not be appeased by songs and company of friends. He is a child produced of rape and war. A victory and a defeat captured in a shell of bone, and flesh and blood. Tama knows this, even though Tajomaru and Ryuhoji don't. Tama knows.

He knows Sesshoumaru was birthed from hatred and lust, without love. Sesshoumaru was the end product of a battle; lost by the mother, and won by the Dog General who stole her lands. He knew one day Sesshoumaru would choose which path was his; would he avenge his mother and the stolen Western Lands…

Or would he choose a path of power and conquest?

And Tama knew then, as he knows now, there was no contest.

There's a cry on the wind that breaks Tama's musings. He turns now, shivering from the cold even though it does not bother him truly.

He thought for a moment it was Ryuhoji. But he knows that is a lie. They're dead, these memories. All dead. And he is cold again.

Tama hugs himself and turns to watch the fire. He wonders if the warmth will touch him. Maybe, he thinks, when this is all over and those he loves are back by his side. This makes him smile. They'll be together again.

The untamable and his faithful servant. They'll make war. Like old times. Tama only has to wait. One more day and night till the new moon comes, and like a birth or rebirth, wars can start again. For that, Tama can wait.

So he does.