Disclaimer: Hahaha, all mine! The Flying Squirrels did it!
((wakes up from her pleasant dreams.)) Well, damn.
Seriously, anything straight from Inu Yasha belongs to Takahashi-san, not me. Sorry this has taken a few months to get out – life has thrown me quite a few curveballs since April, and among them was losing my Internet connection for over a month, which royally sucked lemons, and not the good kind of lemons, either.
Obviously, I did spend some of my time in exile writing. Enjoy!
Oh – and before I forget, there's a little bit of lime-age. Nothing that anyone 13 and over should worry about reading…I think. But then, I was reading Clive Barker at age 13, so I'm probably not the best judge. ((shrugs))
Repost Note: Before I post a new chapter, I try to read through the rest of the story to make sure that I haven't forgotten anything, or accidentally used something twice. Well, in my re-reading, I missed the part in "Pride and Joy" where Ingrid wounded Amy's shoulder with Jiman – pretty much the only kind of wound that Amy is normally forced to heal human-slow.
So, I fixed it. Hopefully, this chapter is the better for it.
Chapter 8 is about 500 words away from completion, so expect it up by this Friday (August 5).
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Where the Heart Is
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Had an observer been watching for them, she would have seen only a white ball of light rapidly approaching the foothills of the closest mountain.
If that observer had continued to watch, she would have seen the white ball rapidly dissolve as it reached its destination, revealing a tall, silver-haired man with an unconscious but lovely young woman held close to his chest.
An observer may have been intrigued at the obvious signs of battle that coated the two. The silver-haired man's white clothing rippled in the wind, showing tears in both hakama and haori, most noticeably in the sleeve that hung limply from his left shoulder. The young woman's skin was covered with dirt and rapidly darkening bruises that peaked out from beneath the shreds of the dark shirt that fluttered gently around her burned and bleeding abdomen. Hardly enough of the cloth remained to preserve the lady's dignity.
Had that observer been listening, she would have heard the tall man murmur a few soft words, indistinguishable upon the wind, as the air in front of the pair seemed to thicken and shimmer.
That observer would have then seen the tall men step unhesitatingly through the portal with his burden, leaving not a trace of their passage behind.
With disgust evident in every movement, that unseen observer plucked a feather from her hair, and ascended to the heavens in a whirling tornado.
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Sesshoumaru scented the air, noting with satisfaction that they were the last of their group to arrive…and that Kagura's scent no longer lingered beyond the portal.
The sleeping wolf shifted in his embrace, one golden eye catching the fleeting look of discomfort that crossed her face as she moved. Already, her bruises were at their peak. Soon they would begin to heal and fade, leaving not a single mark upon her. The skin of her throat had blistered and healed where the fire oni had held her, a remaining hint of red the only sign that the delicate flesh had been assaulted. The charred flesh of her abdomen was also healing well. The damaged skin and tissue was flaking away, revealing new, shiny and soft pink skin beneath what had been severe burns.
Were he able to see beneath her surface injuries, Sesshoumaru was certain that he would see her very bones rapidly knitting back together, as well.
Her shoulder, on the other hand…Amaya's shirt gaped open over the irritated wound, and Sesshoumaru hissed at the sight of the red and swollen flesh.
Of all the wounds decorating her body, it was the only one that was not healing.
He strode quickly towards the front gates of his home, his feet seeming to glide over the well-kept grounds. There were no trees outside his home's walls; no cover for an enemy's approach and no flowers to hide an attacker's scent.
A wide moat stood between him and his destination. With no visible effort, Sesshoumaru gathered himself and leapt across the water, feet touching down delicately on the far side just long enough for his legs to bend, the muscles of his calves and thighs absorbing the shock of the landing even as he pushed against the ground, springing back into the air.
His youki flexed and stretched around him, the cloud-like mass supporting his weight as he cast a critical eye over his home.
'The battlements are in need of repair.' he mused silently, his arm tightening around the female as she began to shift in her sleep. A soft whine, almost a hiss, emerged from between her lips as his grip aggravated her ribs, and Sesshoumaru caught himself rubbing his chin against her forehead, absentmindedly seeking to calm her even as his mind focused on assessing the soundness of his home.
He glared at Tenseiga, the sword mocking him with its silent thrumming. The wolf sighed and shifted, her forehead gently butting against his face as her nose settled in the crook of his shoulder. Sesshoumaru closed his eyes as her breath stirred the small hairs of his neck, a shiver running down his spine as the woman's entire body seemed to curl against him. His eyes opened the barest of slits, continuing to glare down at his traitorous katana even as his nose buried itself in her hair, the faint musk of her scent soothing his nerves.
He floated over the outer wall of his castle, noting with satisfaction the emptiness of the courtyard. More likely than not, the few retainers he had allowed to remain in residence were either busy preparing for his arrival, or keeping Rin out of trouble.
He changed the angle of his flight, ascending towards the highest tower of the castle. Windows the size of small doors seemed to open at his approach, and Sesshoumaru effortlessly landed on the floor's edge, his youki swirling and contracting around him as he walked quickly across his bedroom floor.
His futon was already prepared for him, the sleeping mats piled three deep and covered with fresh linens. Sesshoumaru snorted softly at the display of creature comforts, knowing that he wouldn't be indulging in them anytime soon.
His attention turned to the fusama before him, the interior shoji sliding open silently as he approached. He sighed as he caught sight of the low-slung desk covered with neat stacks of correspondence, a much smaller stack of unused paper and fresh writing utensils seeming to mock him by their very presence. Honestly, as much as he left the formalities of the courts alone, he almost expected the letters to have written themselves by now.
"My lord?" a voice whispered from the dark corner beside him, and Sesshoumaru stilled, regarding the transparent, kneeling figure from the corner of his eye.
"Anei. Where is Kumori?" The figure seemed to bow even lower, as though trying to hide itself from even the hint of Sesshoumaru's gaze.
"Kumori is readying the guest chambers, my lord. Your human insisted that the wolves should be made…comfortable."
Sesshoumaru tilted his head in assent, resuming his way past the now silent servant. To be honest, he was surprised that Anei and Kumori had roused themselves from their slumber in the middle of the day. The two retainers, much like the shadows which they resembled, were ill-protected from sunlight and preferred to roam the fortress only under the cover of night.
"My lord…" Anei said hesitantly, Sesshoumaru's steps slowing. "I'm afraid the lady's bed is not yet prepared."
The lord's eyebrow rose in irritation, a scowl flitting across his face. As much as he would have liked to just drop the injured wolf on the floor, such uncouth behavior was beneath him. Without a word, he returned to his own bed, and gently set the hanyou down upon it.
At least, he tried to. The fingers of her left hand, which had been lying innocently along his shoulder, suddenly wrapped themselves in his hair as he began lowering her. Her eyebrows furrowed, the expression on her face obviously troubled as Sesshoumaru quickly tried to figure out how to get her off of his person without waking her up.
He dropped to his knees upon the bed, gently lying down on his left side, the woman…no, the princess, still curled up to his chest as he slowly pulled his arm away from her Bringing his now free hand up, he gently pried her fingers open, wincing as a few of his hairs remained tangled in her claws.
She shivered in her sleep, curling in on herself as Sesshoumaru put space between their two bodies. 'She looks so young.' Sesshoumaru mused silently, his hand seeming to reach of its own volition to tuck a strand of her auburn hair behind one gently pointed ear, his fingers lingering as he gazed at her.
'Young, inexperienced and she has not yet learned to control her passionate nature on the battlefield…but she shows promise.' he mused. 'If she survives a few more centuries, she may yet make a decent warrior.'
She turned her face slightly, and before he could pull his hand away the hanyou nuzzled it, dropping her head back to the futon with a contented murmur. Bemused, Sesshoumaru sat up, his eyes roving the sleeping female's form as his hand caressed her cheek before pulling reluctantly away.
'That is, if a treaty between the clans does not condemn her to merely becoming the adornment of some male's bed. A princess, hmm? But why would she have sought to hide her birth rank from me?' His eyes narrowed as he rolled back on his heels.
And he finally noticed that her muddy boots were fouling the foot of his bed. With a scowl, he reached down and untied them, tugging them off her feet and setting them on the floor.
She shivered as the cool air hit her feet through her socks, and tried to pull her legs up to her chest, whimpering in her sleep as her damaged abdomen muscles contracted around her fractured ribs. The scowl on Sesshoumaru's face deepened, his hand reaching down and pulling a coverlet over the injured female. A feeling of relief, though very slight, washed over him as her body relaxed and her facial muscles smoothed.
'Why is it that her pain bothers me?' he thought suddenly. 'Tenseiga, can this be your influence? Why is the well-being of this female so important to you?'
For once the sword remained silent at his side, obstinately refusing to answer any of his questions. With a soft "Hmph," Sesshoumaru pulled the willful katana, sheath and all, from his obi, and laid it beside the recuperating female.
"If you are so worried for her, Tenseiga," he said softly, "watch over her yourself."
As he turned to leave the room, Sesshoumaru could almost hear the sword laughing at him.
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"Come on, Derek!" Rin yelled, looking back at the wolf as he sniffed his way along the ground.
He looked up at her and seemed to grin before planting his nose right back along the trail.
Rin growled and stamped her foot. "If you don't knock it off, we're never going to make it to the pasture and back before someone comes to find us!" she warned.
A soft grunt was her only reply, the young wolf far too absorbed in the new scents around him to pay much attention to her words. Rolling her eyes, Rin stalked over to him, firmly planting her feet in the patch of grass his nose was investigating.
"Alright, you asked for it!" she yelled, throwing herself on top of him.
The surprised wolf went down with a loud "Oof!" as Rin's weight forced the air from his lungs, his body beginning to shake with suppressed laughter as the little girl began to viciously attack his most ticklish spots.
The little girl giggled as the wolf thrashed beneath her, confident that no matter how violently he seemed to move he would never actually hurt her. Slowly she began to take pity on him, and her hands moved from tickling his ribs to softly scratching behind his ears.
"You know," she said softly, leaning on his shoulder as her hand continued its idle movements, "I never knew wolves could be nice before I met you, Derek."
The wolf growled, the soft sound almost a purr, as he stretched underneath the child.
Rin giggled, jumping up and skipping ahead of the wolf. "Come on, Derek!" she called back. "Let's go see Ah-Un!"
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"You've disappointed me, my dear."
His melodic voice, dark as rich chocolate, sent shivers down her spine. Though she did not meet the piercing gaze of his fathomless eyes, Ingrid could feel the heat of his stare searing her kneeling form.
"And how," she murmured demurely, "have I managed to do that?"
She didn't bother to hide her shudder as Naraku began to run his fingers through her hair, his nails scratching her skull lightly before the fingers withdrew, allowing her streaked hair to slowly fall back into place before the nails returned to her scalp.
It was soothing and sensual, and yet Naraku was probably the only male alive who could make such an intimate gesture feel like a death threat.
"I have given you this body, have I not?" he said softly. "You, who were a tormented soul without form or physical connection to this earth, have a body now solely because I have chosen to give it to you."
His nails ran across the top of her head, the sharp points lightly scraping the delicate skin behind her left ear as they traveled down her neck. Even without the slight bump underneath his fingertips, Naraku knew where Ingrid's most accessible weakness lay.
"I made this body, Ingrid." His voice was feather soft, the light touch of his rough fingertips causing an involuntary shiver to run through the woman's body.
His thumb brushed against the hollow of her neck, and her eyes snapped shut against the flood of stimulation that simple movement caused. Leaning that barest of inches forward, Naraku's mouth hovered by her right ear, his words intended for her hearing alone.
"It is flesh taken of my flesh," he whispered, "blood taken of my blood. Your soul gave it its final form, true enough. However," his finger brushed against the scar that concealed her Shikon shard, Ingrid's answering hiss bringing a wicked smile to his face, "without this last gift from me, your soul would flee from this shell and it would become a lovely lump of nothing."
His hand slid backwards, the fingers entwining themselves in the hair at the base of the woman's skull and gripping tight.
"In life, your only assets were your looks and your cunning," he growled in her ear, "very fitting for the bastard child of a geisha and a gaijin."
Ingrid's eyes snapped open, glowing with fury. Naraku laughed, his hot breath assailing her delicate skin as he leaned back to regard her, his nose nearly touching hers. "Are you offended, my dear? I must say, you were quite admirable in your attempts to restore your family's honor. Even going so far as to capture an influential gaijin of your own…heh, though it would be fairer to say that he cornered you, would it not?"
A strangled sound, not quite a growl, erupted from Ingrid's throat.
"Am I upsetting you, my dear?" Naraku asked mockingly, his hand still holding her head immobile. "It is only fair, considering how much you have upset me.
"I gave you gifts far beyond what you had in your last life." he hissed. "I gave you speed to match the wolves you prey on, more strength than the most disciplined of human warriors, imbued you with some of my own regenerative power, made you armor of my own flesh and yet, how have you used these gifts?"
He shook her once, just roughly enough to make sure he had her full attention. "You disobeyed my orders, led my minion to his death, and did you manage to kill anyone important? No! You razed an insignificant village and aroused the anger of an enemy before the time was right!" he growled.
Anger sparked in his eyes, and Ingrid knew that his patience with her rebelliousness was growing dangerously thin. She forced herself to become as limp as a ragdoll in his grasp, forced her eyes to lower in deference to his. "Forgive me, my lord. For failing you." she whispered submissively.
Naraku smirked, pulling Ingrid towards him until their noses touched and their breath mingled. "That would not be an attempt to humor me, would it my dear?"
The most demure look he had ever seen came over the woman's face. "That depends…" she whispered.
"Depends?" he murmured, his eyes watching her down turned ones. "Depends upon what?"
The slightest of smiles tugged at the corner of her mouth. "On whether or not it worked, my lord."
The narrowing of his eyes were her only warning before she found herself thrown clear across the room, her back and head slamming into one of the few stone walls in the fortress.
She looked sullenly at the floor, not bothering to wipe the drops of blood that fell from her injured nose. "That…" she hissed softly, pulling herself back into a kneeling position, "would be a 'no'."
"You asked for my help in restoring your family's honor, Ingrid." Naraku said coldly. "In return, you promised to aid me in conquering the world. Do not assume for one moment that that promise will keep me from disposing of you if you grow to be too much of a nuisance."
Ingrid resisted the urge to curl in on herself until Naraku swept out of the room. Fast healing be damned, her back hurt.
His anger would fade soon enough, of that she was sure. Naraku was nothing if not a bully. He would never succeed without her knowledge, and he would have to be a complete idiot to think that she'd willingly surrendered all of it.
Ingrid could be accused of being many things, but 'suicidal' was not one of them.
She licked the blood from her lips. Damnit, she'd tried so hard to keep her honor untarnished. She'd grown up with the jeers and taunts of everyone around her, a constant reminder that if she hadn't inherited some of her foreign father's features, she would have had no clue what her paternal heritage was.
A snarl curled her lip. Even then, the asshole had wanted nothing to do with his bastard daughter, not when he had a wife and legitimate children back in Prussia. He'd lingered in her life long enough to give her a name, and then sailed out of it forever.
And then…Tom had happened to her. The snarl on her lips softened. Gentle Tom, who married her and promised to take her away from the homeland she held no love for.
Sweet Tom, who had dropped dead mere days after their daughter's birth, before he could fulfill his promise to her. She'd done her best to raise their daughter well, to teach her the meaning of honor. Done her best to give her the tools needed to escape their life.
Then that thrice-damned fleabag of a wolf youkai stole her daughter away, knocked her up and forced her to stay with him out of shame. Oh, Nozomi said that she loved him, but Ingrid didn't believe it for a second.
What true human could love a monster?
There had been only one way she could free her daughter, and Ingrid hadn't hesitated to use it. At first, she had used her meager savings to send an assassin after the wolf. After he failed and was slaughtered, she realized that she would have to use the only true weapon left to a powerless woman – deceit. Pretending to accept her daughter's forced union, Ingrid had invited the newlyweds to her home. It had broken her heart to see her lovely daughter's belly distended with that creature's spawn.
She had smiled as the wolf succumbed to the tasteless, scentless poison in his food, her heart feeling the merest of pangs as her daughter gasped her last.
And then that wretch, Keiji, had broken into her home and killed her.
The last thing her dimming eyesight had seen was Keiji clawing her daughter's madly wriggling belly open, pulling the premature monster out into the world to take its first squalling breaths, the brat's screams echoed by the sounds of the storm that raged outside her small home's walls. The last thing she felt was the horror that she hadn't ended her line, hadn't ended her family's shame.
Her last thoughts had been of revenge, even as her soul descended into the hell reserved for those who were without mourners and without honor.
And that hell was where Naraku found her. It was from there that he had retrieved her lost soul and returned her to this…existence.
Ingrid laughed lowly. 'Existence. Such a fitting term for a life that is not being lived.' she mused. Yet, if serving Naraku would keep her from returning to that place of darkness, so be it.
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Amy awoke slowly, stretching out until she could feel bare wood underneath her toes. Repressing a hiss as her abused flesh protested her movements, her hand sought out her wounded shoulder. 'Where are my boots?' she thought blearily as she sat up. 'For that matter, where am I?'
She hadn't seen a room this opulent since…well, never.
The walls were painted a backdrop of the darkest indigo, a scene of deepest winter emblazoned around the room itself. At one end of the room was a window thrown wide open, the sky ablaze with shades of vivid red and fiery orange.
'Damn, it's sunset already?' she cursed. 'Why the hell did Sesshoumaru let me sleep so long?'
Her eyes were drawn to the other end of the room, where a dim light showed through a thin fusama screen. She started to throw the covers off of her, stopping as a heavy weight by her knees held the blankets down.
Reaching down, she was startled to discover the culprit was the Tenseiga, sheath and all. 'Why would Sesshoumaru have left this behind?' she wondered, pulling the katana closer to her, then determinedly rose from the futon.
She grimaced at the sight of her torn clothing, still smattered with dried blood. Gingerly parting the slice over her shoulder wound, she was surprised to see that while the flesh was still tender, it was knitting together much, much faster than the last wound she'd received from Jiman had.
'Damn, I need a bath and a change of clothes, pronto.' Her stomach rumbled loudly, reminding her of all the energy her body had burned in order to heal her, and she added 'and food' to her mental list of things to do.
But first things first…she had to find everyone.
She breathed in deeply, startled to discover Sesshoumaru's scent permeating the air around her. 'Damn, it's in everything. The futon, the covers, the screens…hell, it's even in the walls. Okay, so this is his castle, but his scent wouldn't have penetrated this deep unless…' She gazed at her surroundings with a new understanding and appreciation. 'Unless these chambers are his. Holy crap, he put me to sleep in his own bed?' she thought in shock.
She caught sight of her muddy boots at the end of the futon, and blushed when she thought about who had probably taken them off of her. She grimaced as she looked at the sheets, realizing that her blood was probably clinging to the cloth, not to mention that pieces of her damaged skin had probably been left behind. 'Eww…I hope he has spare sheets…I'm sure the last thing Sesshoumaru wants to be sleeping in tonight is bits of me…'
Amy rose stiffly from the bed, wincing as her ribs protested the sudden movement and deeper breaths she forced them to accommodate. She walked slowly past the fusama, Tenseiga tight in her grip. A low table lay to her right, upon it a couple neat stacks of paper, a writing set and a short candle that was threatening to sputter out. 'Nice of him to leave a light on for me, even if my eyes don't really need it.'
She resisted the urge to flip through the papers on the low-slung desk, but couldn't help but notice that some had been there so long they were starting to crumble. 'Call me crazy,' she thought bemusedly, 'but I really can't picture Sesshoumaru sitting down long enough to do paperwork.'
She blew the candle out, and followed her nose out into the hall.
'Wow, this place must be carved right out of the mountain.' Dressed stone surrounded her on every side. Even the floor beneath her feet was smooth, polished rock. 'This must have taken centuries to create…'
She turned left, the increasing presence of Sesshoumaru's jyaki reassuring her of where she was heading.
She headed deeper into the mountain, the lack of light making even her eyes strain as she wished she would have had the good sense to bring the candle with her. After perhaps twenty minutes of walking, after the texture of the stone of the walls shifted from a smooth polish to a skin-catching roughness, Amy finally saw a pool of light that spilled from an open doorway into the roughly hewn hallway.
She quietly looked in, the sight stealing her breath.
Sesshoumaru sat kneeling, clad only in a dark pair of hakama, surrounded by a sea of candles in a rough little room that had been wrested, kicking and screaming, from the mountain. Incense smoke curled from a single brazier, making the air around the kneeling daiyoukai hazy and indistinct.
But what wrenched Amy's eye from the mouth-watering sight of a shirtless Sesshoumaru was the painting that rested on the far wall. In it, a large white dog youkai gazed down from the clouds at a boiling sea of human soldiers.
"If you're going to stand there, you might as well come in."
Amy started at the soft words, and hesitantly stepped into the room.
"I didn't mean to disturb you." she apologized.
"You are not disturbing me, Princess." Sesshoumaru sighed and opened his eyes. He bowed to the painting before standing and beginning to extinguish the candles.
"Who is that?" the hanyou whispered, awe lacing her voice. "And don't call me 'princess'." she added absentmindedly.
His lips lifted in a sad, yet proud, smile. "That was my father…Touga, Leader of the Dogs and former Lord of the West."
"Wow. He must have been ancient." she whispered. "I mean, if the painting is accurate?"
Sesshoumaru nodded slowly, his hand hovering over a candle. "My father had lived for nearly ten millennia when he met his end."
A low whistle escaped Amy's lips. "He must have been very skilled at the art of war, to have survived for so long."
"He was the greatest warrior I have ever known." Sesshoumaru said in a low voice, looking on the painting anew, his hand still hovering over the candle's weak flame.
For centuries now he had gazed upon this final portrait, dredging up from memory all the details the artist had not been able to catch. Such as the silver that had edged the dark grey of his father's fur…the blinding whiteness of his fangs…the wicked glint that had alighted in his father's eyes whenever something amused him…
Sesshoumaru shook himself, and caught Amy giving him an odd look. "Yes?" he said carefully.
"Did you inherit all of this from him?" she said, curiosity getting the better of her.
Sesshoumaru returned his gaze to the painting. "This mountain has been in my family since the gods first raised Japan from the sea. I was told that in my grandfather's time, this was merely a den dug into the mountainside. By the time I was born, my father had created a series of tunnels within the mountain itself and had already begun work on the outer castle." He caught a glint out of the corner of his eye, and realized that it was the metal cap of Tenseiga's hilt catching the dim candlelight. 'So, she kept you with her, did she?' he thought in amusement.
"What about the land itself?" she inquired. "The people?"
Sesshoumaru shook his head. "My father fought to gain dominance over the youkai of this land, and was their leader for more than half of his life. When he passed away, his commanders broke his territory into pieces." he said bitterly. "Barely five decades passed before the high court begged me to take my father's place and end the threat that was tearing the lands apart."
"What happened?" Amy asked gently, unconsciously tightening her grip on Tenseiga. "What was the threat?"
"Themselves." he said quietly. "Without a leader to negotiate between them, the commanders were at each other's throats."
"So you took your father's post…I don't imagine they just submitted quietly?" A snort answered her wry question, and she shook her head. "So what did you do?"
"I fought them all." he said simply. "Those that survived acknowledged my right to lead, and those that did not…" He paused, his shoulders shrugging gracefully. "Their heirs saw reason."
"Wow…" Amy said softly, "is that why you patrol so often?"
He gave a slow nod. "It would not do for them to forget who needs whom, after all."
"No kidding." she murmured, blushing as his gold eyes caught and held her green ones. Turning her gaze downward, she held Tenseiga respectfully out to him, cradling it with both of her hands. "I'm a little old for teddy bears, you know." she said wryly, but softly.
Sesshoumaru gazed upon her demurely downturned face, amused by how quickly she had avoided direct eye contact with him. He hadn't forgotten her denial of attraction to him the day before, or his determination to make her admit the truth. 'No time like the present.' he thought, amusement coloring his thoughts.
"What is a 'teddy bear'?" he asked.
His amusement grew as her scent showed a hint of discomfort. "A comforting children's toy, that toddlers often sleep with when it isn't practical for them to share a bed with a parent or an older sibling."
Sesshoumaru took a step closer to her, forcing her to pull her arms in closer to her chest. "Mmm, if you are too old for 'teddy bears', as you say, what do you sleep with when you need comforting?" he said teasingly, his amusement growing along with her rising discomfort.
Amy ground her teeth against the thrill of desire and the accompanying discomfort his closeness was making her feel. Of all the times for him to act like something other than an iceman, why now, when the only things she was interested in were food and a bath? 'I guess this is what Aniki meant when he said that you should see a lion in its own den before you judge its character.' she thought wryly.
But who was the true Sesshoumaru? The Snowball that she'd come to know in public, or the warmer individual she'd glimpsed peaking out from underneath?
"I assure you, Lord Sesshoumaru," she said stiffly, "I need nothing in my bed at night to comfort me."
Amy's breath caught as a talon hooked under her chin, gently urging her to lift her face to his. Laughter danced in those once cold eyes, and Amy froze as he took another step forward, his bare chest pressing her arms and the Tenseiga into her clothed one as he looked down at her.
"Nothing at night?" he rumbled, his breath making the short hairs around her face dance as his face lowered to hers. Her breath hitched as his eyes drew level with hers, their mouths hovering so close together that if she licked her own lips she would wet his.
The desire in her scent called to him as much as the uncertainty in her eyes, urging him to act much more brashly than he had first intended when he had begun to tease her. His instinct cried out for him to claim her lips, to claim her, the strong, willful female whose scent and power cried to his own.
"But what comforts you during the day…Princess?" he said softly, his eyes bleeding red as she shivered and the pure want in her scent screamed at him. His lips crashed down on hers, his body forcing hers flush against the wall as he fought not to grind his hips, his aroused manhood, against the soft flesh of her pelvis.
'Oh God.' she thought, feeling a flash of fear as he pinned her, his katana pressed so tight into her chest that it hurt. Desire rode her body at his touch, banishing the fear as she kissed him back, nipping at his lips as he slowly ground the evidence of his own desire against her. A low moan escaped her lips, and his hand left her chin to trail claws down her side, settling on her hip to pull her just far enough away from the wall to allow his hand to slip behind her. His tongue ran across her lips, demanding entrance to her mouth that she hesitantly allowed when his fingers pinched her backside in insistence.
His fingers massaged the abused muscle as she complied, feeling the shivers that ran up and down her spine as she relaxed into him. His tongue plundered her mouth, massaging her own as her second moan reverberated against his throat. He pulled back with a low growl, his teeth nipping her lips and then along her jawbone as she shuddered against him. On some level he was aware that he had her pinned, that she couldn't reciprocate even if she wanted to, but the same instinct that had urged him on was pleased by the desire he could smell on her, the moans that his actions drew from her clenched lips, and demanded that he draw more from her. Warmth began to blossom in him wherever his skin touched hers, and he growled as his mouth brushed against the tender flesh of her throat.
A soft blue glow enveloped them as his nose found the rip in her shoulder, his tongue snaking out to lick slowly along her wound. His eyes closed in satisfaction, the taste of her skin and blood like ambrosia to him.
"Sessh…shou…maru…" Amy moaned, panting as she tried to fight her raging hormones. Never in her life had she been assaulted like this, and when his tongue began to lave her wound she thought she would go insane from desire. "Sssstttop!" she hissed out, trying desperately to hold on to the last shreds of her control.
He paused to look up at her, amusement dancing with the lust in his eyes. "Are you still insisting that you are not attracted to this Sesshoumaru…princess?"
A growl and a fresh wave of want-laden scent were his only warning before she shoved Tenseiga into him with all of her might, forcing him to slide a few feet away from her.
All of his weight leaned on the sheathed blade against his chest. Part of him wanted to close the distance between them once more, even as another part that was laughing at the princess's embarrassment allowed her to claim some personal space. Her arms were stretched out to their limits, and he allowed his own to hang limply at his side, though the length of his reach was enough that he could touch her anywhere, anytime he wished.
"Well," he said dryly, "now that you have this Sesshoumaru at such a distinct disadvantage, whatever are you planning to do to him?"
Her jaw dropped, and she sputtered in indignation. A chuckle rumbled in his chest, and he lowered his mouth to nibble at the fingers of her right hand. A smile threatened to spill onto his face as the shock, indignation and desire in her scent all but doubled, and he rolled his eyes back up to look at her.
"Well?" he mumbled around her finger, his tongue snaking out to caress the knuckle that had whitened as her grip tightened on the glowing Tenseiga.
"You…you!" she sputtered.
"Yes?" he said innocently, curling his tongue around her finger in such a way that he could practically feel muscles in her groin clench in response.
'I'm going to kill him,' she thought faintly, trying not to slide down the wall in a boneless heap. 'As soon as he stops doing that…I'm going to kill him!'
"There's really no point in denying it." he stated matter-of-factly, his tongue moving on to lave the smallest of her digits. "I can smell as well as you can, and I'll be more than happy to stop this assault of your person once you admit that even you find this Sesshoumaru attractive."
"What!" she snapped. "When you put it like that, of course I'm not going to say that I'm attracted to you!"
"Ah," he breathed out, his teeth briefly nipping at the flesh of her upturned wrist. "so you do not wish this Sesshoumaru's assault to cease. This is quite understandable."
"Sesshoumaru!" she gasped in indignation, shivers radiating from the sensitive pulse-point of her wrist to the rest of her body, her knees threatening to revolt any second. She started to pull the katana back towards her, and stopped in dismay as that only threatened to allow his bare, well-muscled chest to crash into her again.
Only his arm appearing beside her head kept his body from falling into hers as she removed his support, and he smirked triumphantly down at her as she glared up at him.
'Lion in his own den, indeed.' she thought faintly, those red-tinged orbs threatening to steal every coherent thought straight out of her skull. 'Who knew that Sesshoumaru had such a playful side locked away?'
"Do you yield, princess?" he said smugly, his lips twitching in what might, eventually, turn into a smile, as he allowed a hint of laughter into his voice.
"Yield what?" she said scathingly, and Sesshoumaru was certain that if she could have pinned her ears back she would have. "I'm not admitting that I'm attracted to you, Sesshoumaru, so forget it."
"Ah," he breathed out, lowering his face so that his mouth hovered over her ear. "I can see it will take an extended campaign before you are ready to admit the truth, fair princess. How…delightful."
His tongue snaked out to pull her earlobe into his mouth, and she shivered against him. The warmth he felt as his skin touched hers intensified, and Sesshoumaru grunted as the stump of his left arm began to burn and itch.
Reluctantly, he let go of the princess's ear to look at his arm…and it finally registered in his lust-addled mind that the Tenseiga was glowing like a blue sun. He blinked at the sheath, then blinked at his arm before cursing and stumbling away from the female.
Where his arm had ended a mere five inches below his shoulder, it now ended just above where his elbow joint should have been. Even as he watched he could see the growth slowing down, and it suddenly clicked.
Why her aura called to Tenseiga, why the merest use of her healing power activated the sword's own. Why her scent had intensified when she held the sword out to him. Why he desired to see to her well-being, why he so strongly wanted to hear the wolf admit her attraction to him. Hell, even his desire for her now made sense.
"Sesshoumaru?" the wolf said quietly, and he looked up to see that she had slid down the wall to sit in an undignified heap on the ground, one hand covering the wound on her shoulder, her hair catching on the rough wall to form a halo around her body that looked disconcertingly like blood in the darkened room. She clutched Tenseiga to her chest with her free hand, much like the toy that she claimed to have outgrown. "What the hell is going on?"
He extended his left arm for her perusal, and her eyes flared in shock. "It would appear that my sword is using your energy to regenerate my limb." he said softly, a hint of a growl in his voice.
He reached out and gently tugged her hand from her shoulder. His nostrils flared as he saw the now unblemished skin that glowed in the dim room. A quick glance at her equally pristine and abdomen confirmed his suspicions.
"Not just to heal my flesh, then." he said softly. "Apparently, the more we touch each other, the more powerful the Tenseiga becomes."
He was pleased to see understanding dawn in the princess's eyes, even as she thrust the sword as far away from her as her arm would reach.
"You mean this damn thing is trying to play matchmaker!" she exclaimed.
He raised his eyebrow, his facial muscles sliding once more into his familiar mask of indifference as he reached out for his errant blade. "So it would appear."
His hand curled around the sword, pulling it from her unresisting fingers. Amy rose shakily to her feet, silently commanding her knees to stop trembling. "What are we going to do about it?"
Sesshoumaru shrugged and turned towards the doorway, assuming the princess would fall in behind him. "For now, we ignore it. Our priority is tracking Naraku.
"We shall deal with this…development…after we destroy him."
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Kagura kneeled before her creator, surprised that for once the human wench was nowhere to be seen.
"And you are sure that he disappeared without a trace?" Naraku asked coolly.
"I'm certain of it. He used a portal to get to his final destination, and wherever it led, I could not follow." Annoyance laced her tone, though she made every effort to keep it bland. To be honest, she didn't know if Sesshoumaru had used a portal, or if he had merely stepped through a barrier. But she'd be damned before she'd let Naraku get so much as a whiff of where his strongest enemy's lair lay, even if that enemy was harboring a certain annoying wolf wench.
"You had better be certain of that, Kagura." Naraku's voice was imbued with menace. "As it is, I have another job for you."
Eyes opened in the shadows, dull red eyes that glowed in the surrounding darkness. Hot drool dripped from steaming fangs as a giant black monster-wolf padded into the light of the room. A single shard of the Shikon jewel winked from the creature's forehead, and Kagura didn't need her Death Dance magic to tell her that Naraku had recruited yet another minion from the ranks of the deceased.
"Take our newest friend out for a walk, Kagura." Naraku's malicious laugh rolled throughout the room. "I am certain he will have no problem discovering where Sesshoumaru has hidden that princess."
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A/N: Wow, nearly 7000 words long, and yet this chapter still felt…I dunno…short to me. Must be because Inuyasha and Co. sat this one out.
The plot is officially starting to thicken, and the romance between Sesshoumaru and Amy is off to its rocky start. Of course, now they're going to be wondering if what they're starting to feel for each other is really them, or Tenseiga working its special mojo. ((evil laugh)). The answer, of course, is that deep down they are attracted to one another, but neither is about to admit it – Amy because Sesshoumaru can be an icy prick, and Sesshoumaru for several reasons, the most obvious of one being his poor attitude towards those with a, shall we say, "less than pure" youkai heritage. Tenseiga, of course, has an agenda of its own and has no problem slicing through their bullcrap to achieve its own goals.
Reviewing, as always, is appreciated and helps to jumpstart my muse. I've got an outline done for the next chapter, but it still has some kinks that need to be worked out. I'm hoping to do the next update on or before August 1, provided my internet connection isn't yanked again.
Sanood: Eh, not so much fluff as good old fashioned lust…but I still hope that you enjoyed, lol.
Onna of Fire and Pain: Okay, here's the deal with the Prologue and the Interlude – they are glimpses into the future. Sort of. Basically, Amy's sitting in a jail cell reminiscing about how she ended up in it – and all the rest of the story is her "memory" of the events leading up to it, along with input from several other characters. I hope that makes it a little clearer…
Noeru Inu: I'm sorry that it took me so long to update, but better late than never, eh? ((winks)) Btw, I hope you enjoyed this update…