A/N: I could wait until I've finished Miroku's first part, but I figure I should update something before I get killed from all the "impatient faeries" out there. I'm sorry it's taking forever, but I had midterms, and crap in January. Then I've been doing the whole "college" thing, and I turned 18 (yay me for being legal!). But I've been accepted to college, so I can slack off more in school. Expect more writing on this story, and if I can swing it, I want to update Seeking Solace by the end of the week. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or anything else of that nature. I own only my ideas and my dignity. In your face censorship!


Self-less

Chapter 2


Inuyasha

I don't think anyone in the world could understand the frustration that a person goes through before marrying a total stranger. Unless, of course, you've done so.

It's like drinking a pint of Black Water. It eats you from the inside out, making you feel hollow and cold and strangely detached from what you once loved dearest in the world.

It's ironic though, since I was the one who had offered this arrangement in the first place. It was Father's idea. I didn't want to do it, naturally. I wanted to find my own bride, a good Daemon who would be loyal and obedient. Now I have to deal with some twitter-brained Fey princess who will, undoubtedly, try and change everything in my world to fit her own means.

Father had suggested it because he wanted, more than anyone else, to end the fighting between us. He had lost both of his wives to the war. Then it claimed him three years ago. My half-brother became the king, to rein only for a season before death took him as well. Or rather, the arrow of a Fey took him.

Now I am alone, the only living son to the house of the Daemon. The Dark Prince Inuyasha. The people look to me for hope, for guidance and protection. I did the only thing I could. I offered peace to the Fey, to my enemy. I offered myself to the princess of the Fey, and she had accepted. Now I prepare for my wedding as if it were my funeral.

It very well could be, for all I know. She could try and poison me on our wedding night, try to have me killed when we return to my palace. Many advisors had tried to dissuade me from this course, because I was the only heir left to our throne. I was too precious to be wasted on a Fey whore who might try to take my life for a righteous cause. I told them all to stop worrying, that I knew what I was doing, that I would be fine.

I'm a very good liar when I try.

The only one who knows my doubts is Miroku, my most loyal council.

He had sat with me in my tent as I waited for the princess and her company to arrive at the lake where our wedding will be held at sundown, but he had left on my command for the thousandth time, to check for signs of the party. Time grows close, and I get more nervous.

I thought I would be more resolved. I thought that this action would give me some kind of peace, firm my vow that I would lose no more of my people to a futile war. But all it does is make me regret my action. It makes me regret that I ever considered this reckless plan.

What had possessed me? Why would I even considered marrying a princess of Fey? I had never seen her, never spoken to her, and now I was going to marry her? What have I done? I've fucked myself...

"My prince," Miroku commented, walking through the flap of the tent. He didn't seem at all annoyed with me, though if I had been in his place, I would be at the end of my short temper by now. "You seem ill at ease." He always has this look of eternal amusement on his face, which just annoys me in most instances, like now.

It was good to get annoyed at him, least I be annoyed with myself. Miroku is often the one to take the brunt of my moods, but he shows no sign of it. I suppose I envy his composure, though I would never tell him that. He's far too smug as it is.

Miroku is a Daemon of some reputation. His appearance makes him seem human; there are no visible signs of magic to him. From his black hair to his sandals, he is all the things that human is. Violet eyes. Rounded ears. Well-built. One could easy mistake him for not being of Daemon blood, but he is truly from a good line of sorcerers. Those who carry their magic within themselves as apposed to showing physical power. The only thing that marks him Daemon at all is a black symbol scrawled into the skin on the back of his neck. The shape of dragon.

He is the last of his line, and has the potential to end that line as well. His family is old blood, like my father's. They had been around together since before recorded time. But as my family has, his has also dwindled.

My family was killed because of the war with the Fey. His was killed because of war within the Daemon. About a hundred years ago or so, as the story goes, another Daemon passed a curse upon Miroku's grandfather as he protected my grandfather from harm. Because of that curse, Miroku carries a powerful curse, one that claimed his grandfather, and his father before him.

Miroku is the closest thing to a friend I have ever had. We've grown up together, known each other all our lives. We've bled for one another, and will continue until one or both of us is dead. His loyalty to the Daemon crown is absolute and I put my trust in his council.

If it wasn't for his one flaw, I would say that Miroku is the perfect advisor.

But alas, good help is hard to find, even if it is centuries old. And Miroku is a lecher to the depths of his bones. Beggars can't be choosers, my father always said, so I keep him at my side when I can control him best.

"It could be because my betrothed has not arrived yet," I commented to him. I had been pacing my tent for nearly an hour now, but I finally sat down to drain a goblet of water. "I think she might yet back out."

"I doubt it," Miroku commented. "The messenger from the golden hall said that the Fey party was leaving within the hour of his departure."

"A lot can happen in an hour," I told him.

"I think perhaps it is you who wants to back out, my prince," he said slyly, smiling at me with a superiority that I felt like decking him for. I didn't of course, but the stars know I wanted to.

Miroku was just behaving as I had always trained him to be, blunt and open. The best advisors are the ones who don't flatter you with a bunch of compliments and subtle hints, they are the ones who tell you what is going on and how they think you should change it. Miroku has a brilliant mind, which is the real reason I have let him live this long in my presence.

"I'm nervous," I confided to him.

"All grooms are, so I'm told," he explained.

"Most grooms see their wives before the wedding," I shot back.

"True," he agreed with a grin. "But even though you haven't, from what I've heard, you've nothing to worry about."

I narrowed my eyes at him, leaning forward. "What have you heard?"

He grinned lazily, like a cat goading his next kill. "I spoke to the messenger we sent to the golden hall. He spoke to the princess himself."

"And?"

Miroku shrugged. "It has always been said that the princess of Fey is very beautiful. He told me that she held herself like a Queen, with all the ridged dignity and reserve it requires."

"Any idiot can learn mannerisms," I bit out. "She could be just another bubble-head who can imitate others, with a pretty face."

"At least she has a pretty face," Miroku commented. "Imagine if she didn't. Then you'd have nothing at all."

I scowled at him. "If she's an idiot, then I do have nothing."

"Perhaps, perhaps not," Miroku schooled, shaking his finger at me. "Were she ugly, you'd not want to bed her, and no heir would be born. Because she's beautiful, it will make the horrible task of sleeping with her a little more bearable."

I grinned at him then. "At least I'll have a woman to bed, unlike you."

He frowned. "It's not kingly to flaunt better fortune in front of those with less."

"But I am not a king," I reminded.

"You will be when you marry," Miroku reminded. "Tonight, the Daemon kingdom will accept a Queen, and gain a King."

I bowed my head for a moment, in acknowledgement to my slain brother and father. So many good kings had gone before me. Now I had to live up to their example and lead on. "May she be a worthy Queen," was all I could manage as a reply.

"She is well loved by the Fey," Miroku told me, making himself comfortable. "They respect her, and I have heard even the hardest Fey warrior comment on his love and loyalty. She was the hope of their people, but they seem to think you will eat her in the night, or some such nonsense."

I snorted. "Her people adore her, yet she agrees to this marriage?"

"It probably has to do with her brother," he commented lightly. It was a needle in my side. I had sent that battalion, the one that killed the Prince of the Fey. Fey arms had been moving over the border, despite my messages to the golden hall. I sent them to push them back to their own lands. I didn't know it was the Prince who commanded the small force that was chasing Daemon deserters from their forests.

Now the brother was dead, and the sister was the sacrifice.

"If I had known it was him, I would not have ordered the strike," I told Miroku.

"I know, my prince," he said with a nod. "Had I known myself, I would have advised against it. But we didn't know, and he is dead. We must look to the future now."

"To my wedding," I said. The word left a bitter taste in my mouth.

"If you like, but I was thinking more to the new rule of a post-war kingdom. There is much to be done for our kingdom now that our efforts can be turned inward."

"Like what?" Listening to Miroku talk politics always soothed me, mostly because I tuned out what he was saying. Right now, it gave me something else to concentrate on.

"Well, the damages to our borders," he said after a moment. "We can look to disbanded the rebels at the cliffs. It will win us favor with the people to make them feel safer, since so many of them question what you're doing."

"The rebels at the cliffs," I scoffed. "A rag-tag band that won't stand long against my war-rough battalion."

"But they still loot and kill our own," Miroku reminded. "Because of our war efforts, we haven't had the opportunity to go into the cliffs and remove them, only prevent them from entering the mountain halls."

"You think destroying them will win me favor with the people again? Surely they understand that this is our best shot for peace."

"I'm sure they do, my prince, but it is still unthinkable to them that you, the Dark Prince of the Daemon, would take a Fey for your wife."

I swallowed and shook my head. "It's what my father wanted."

"I know."

We fell silent for a time. I fidgeted more with my clothes, my wedding clothes… Just the thought of what I was about to do made me angry and nervous. Adrenaline pumped through me fiercely.

"My prince," a voice from outside called in.

"Enter," I replied.

An officer I couldn't place came in, bowed to me, then Miroku in turn. When he faced me, his face was grim. "My prince, the Fey party has just arrived lakeside."

My heart plummeted into my stomach. She'd come after all. I was about to get married, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

"Very good," I said, not giving away my thoughts. "Inform them that the ceremony will begin at moonrise." He bowed and left. Once he was gone, I turned to Miroku. "Moment of truth?"

He grinned. "The moment is fast approaching, my prince, and I think you will survive it quite well." He rose and headed to the door. "I think I'll just mosey over to the Fey party and see what's going on."

"Have fun with the pretty Fey maidens," I told him. "I hope none of them have a good right hook."

"I hope they do," he laughed. "It makes the chase that much better."

I sighed as he left. Now I was alone, without joke or distraction to keep me from my thoughts and my fears. As much as I loathe to admit it, I am afraid. Deathly afraid of what is to come because I have no idea what it will be.

I hate being helpless, and that's what I am right now. Helpless in the face of what I am about to pledge myself to for life. And by my own volition.