Title: The Geas

Author: Dragon's Daughter

Fandom: Rurouni Kenshin

Disclaimer: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin. I am making no profit by writing this fan fiction. It is intended for recreation purposes only.

Pairing: K/K A/M

Rating: R / NC-17

Summary: Life hasn't been good for Kaoru since the day her father died and her evil witch of a stepmother turned her into a literal slave. A spell binds her every movement and hides her from the sight of the world until she happens across the path of Kenshin, a veteran of the Revolution who can not only see her, but is instantly smitten with her!

Archiving: Shattered Theories, Adult ,

Notes: The unedited version of this fic will be available at Adult and at my personal webpage, Shattered Theories.

Chapter One: Embers

It was market day.

Kaoru had been counting down the weekdays and it was finally Saturday: the day when Yumi temporarily loosened the magical bonds that kept Kaoru bound tight to the borders marked by the outside walls of the Dojo. On any other day she couldn't get within five paces of the front gate.

She was ready. The house was fairly sparkling with cleanliness and every item in the kitchen had been buffed into high polish. The linens were so white they hurt the eyes and Kaoru had taken advantage of the hot laundry water to wash. Previous shopping days had been cut short because Yumi had demanded that she look presentable. To that end Kaoru wore her one good kimono, the one with no patches or visible mends and still had a bit of its original lavender hue. Kaoru had even washed her hair and tied it back with a ribbon filched from Shura's jewel box.

Nothing was going to impede on her precious few hours of freedom.

Yumi looked her over from the cool shade of the veranda where she idly sipped tea and fanned herself in the summer heat. Kaoru stifled an envious glance at the opulent kimono the woman wore. No worn-out darned hand-me-downs for Kamiya Yumi. No, she wore scarlet Chinese silk patterned over with gold dragonflies with a deep green obi that matched the hue of her immaculately coiffed hair. Kaoru's stepmother pursed her full lips as though she were considering matter of deep importance above and beyond letting her little stepdaughter cum general servant out of the house for a few hours to do the grocery shopping.

"You know the rules." Yumi said at length. She considered the pond garden as she spoke, as though she couldn't even be bothered to look at Kaoru a second longer than absolutely necessary. "You will be home in three hours with everything on your list. You will not speak unless spoken to and -needless to say- you will not go telling tales."

"Yes, Ma'am," Kaoru forced a pleasant tone through her teeth. Sass would only cut her time down. She'd do what ever it took to get every last minute she could. If it meant making Yumi think she had her beat then Kaoru could do it and smile while she did.

Yumi's painted mouth curled in a cruel smile and she snapped her manicured fingers. Instantly, Kaoru felt the bonds of the geas binding her to Yumi's will loosen and settle into new boundaries. Kaoru knew from experience that she wouldn't be able to go further than the dockside market, but it was better than the four walls of her kitchen! She bowed and mouthed the obsequious thanks that she knew Yumi wanted to hear. Without waiting for her stepmother to change her mind, Kaoru scurried out of the Dojo careful to keep her eyes down and her shoulders hunched until she was well out of eyesight.

As soon as she was out onto the main streets, Kaoru straightened her back and threw her shoulders back. Her stride lengthened and she dropped into the alley behind her home where she'd stashed a shinai by the midden heap. She'd need it.

Shinai on one shoulder and basket swinging from an elbow, Kaoru sauntered onto the city streets. As usual, no one noticed her unless she bodily threw herself into their path. She refrained from making faces at the passers-by even though she knew from experience that they wouldn't notice much less respond. She hurried her steps until the streets widened out into the wide avenues of Tokyo's main shopping district.

Kaoru paused at the edge of the marketplace to take in the bustling crowd, the sights, the smells, and the sounds of humanity going about its day to day routine. Fishwives screeched at one another while their husbands hawked trout. Pigs squealed from their pens as prospective customers inspected their supper. Somewhere in the crowd a musician was playing a mandolin on a street-corner and Kaoru could hear a group of girls giggling over a new shipment of lace. The scent of exotic spices lingered on the air and if she closed her eyes she could pretend that she was actually shopping in India or England, somewhere as far away from Japan as she could get!

With a sigh she made her way into the crowd, elbowing past farmers, shop girls, and gaijin as she fought her way to the miso stands. Luckily, Yumi had standing orders at most place for her purchases to be delivered, but someone had to physically go and confirm the deliveries every week. That was where Kaoru came in.

Some places wouldn't deliver, in fact they couldn't. In the cases of fruit vendors, their items were seasonal and the quality of the product varied from stall to stall. It was always best to have someone go and personally select them. Since she never saw them grace her plate, Kaoru took vindictive pleasure in selecting dry oranges and mushy apples. Any watermelons she bought were guaranteed to be overripe and grainy inside. It said something about Yumi that the witch believed her stepdaughter when she said there was nothing better to be had. The woman firmly believed that the upper classes still reserved the best imports for themselves even though the 'upper classes' were now all merchants and profited by selling the best produce.

Still, Kaoru had to make the rounds and if she came home with substandard goods well, Yumi could make her shop, but she couldn't make her do it well. The same went for cooking. A vicious grin curved Kaoru's lips as she recalled the sour expression on Yumi's face when she'd been confronted by last night's pitiful excuse for a meal. Kaoru had actually managed to burn the miso even! It had resulted in yet another beating, but by now Kaoru barely even felt it. Yumi didn't have the muscle to raise more than a mild welt on her back. It stung a bit when she stretched, but unless someone touched her then Kaoru didn't even notice it.

The fruit stands were first on her list and she came away with some old oranges and a sad little watermelon. After that she met with the rice wholesaler to ensure that his boys could make their Sunday morning deliveries and ended up listening with a false expression of sympathy as he told her that, due to an injury in the family, their bales might be as late as mid-afternoon. After that it was to the fishmonger for the night's main attraction, a fat salmon that Kaoru almost regretted having to cook. In turn he swore that his deliveries would be on time and in full. So went her visits to the Miso merchant, the book lender, and the vegetable vendor.

Before she finished her errands, Kaoru idled by the jewelry stands and mused quietly on a set of tortoise shell combs, studded with turquoise gems and a block of jasmine and milk soap that looked ever so much more inviting than the harsh lye that she used. So involved did she become on her inner world that she didn't notice that she was standing in a man's path until he walked or rather ran straight into her.

He hit her broadside and they went down in a tumble of sleeves, coattails, and curses. The contents of Kaoru's basket went flying and with dismay she felt the worn fabric of her kimono give at the seam. Nearly all the pathetic fruits she'd purchased rolled into the cart paths to be squashed beneath the hooves and wheels of a turnip wagon. The man landed on top of her driving the air from her lungs. Kaoru lay stunned on the ground, laboring for breath as the man staggered to his feet.

It seemed like an eternity before her lungs would expand and she could draw that first sweet breath of air. She took a second and a third before levering herself into a sitting position to take stock of the damage.

The fruits she'd bought were almost all smashed. One or two of the oranges lay by her side and she numbly scooped them into her basket. As she moved, her kimono pulled in an unfamiliar way and her stomach plummeted as she found the ragged tear in the shoulder. The fabric had given at the seams and frayed further at the merest touch. Rage kindled in the pit of her stomach and she whipped around to face the blackguard who'd knocked her down, only to find that he'd been talking the entire time and she hadn't been listening.

"… so very sorry, miss, it was entirely my fault!" Strong hands closed around her arms and Kaoru found herself lifted easily to her feet. Concerned violet eyes regarded her through a curtain of fiery red bangs. The man pulled a plain linen handkerchief from the pocket of his waistcoat and used it to brush a spot of dirt off her cheek. Kaoru blushed furiously and snatched the bit of cloth away.

CRACK!

The hand print on the man's cheek was almost as red as his hair. Kaoru's palm stung a bit, but it was nothing compared to the frustration and anger that was flooding her soul. The man who'd knocked her down gingerly touched the angry mark on his face and regarded her with wide surprised eyes.

"You ASS!" she shrieked, heedless of the people passing by. He could be raping her and they wouldn't notice. Yumi's magic made sure that she couldn't attract attention even if she didn't want to. Fury cast a red film over her vision as all her repressed anger and stress came boiling to the front. "My groceries are ruined not to mention my kimono! My one good kimono! How dare you?" Much to her disgust tears welled up in her eyes and the rest of her tirade was lost in the storm of tears that swept over her.

"Miss?" Despite everything, the man's voice was gentle. Kaoru was vaguely aware of him prying the handkerchief out of her hand.

The soft brush of starched fabric underneath her eyes startled her. He was smiling at her, despite the fact that she'd just slapped him. Kaoru sniffed and grabbed the handkerchief back to scrub the tear marks from her face. He let her have it. Once she felt suitably composed, Kaoru gathered as much dignity as she had left and looked him in the face.

She hadn't taken a very good look until then, but she found her was very short for a man. He was only a few fingers width taller than her; just enough that he had to incline his head a fraction of an inch to look her in the eyes. He wore his red hair long and tied the thick stuff back at the nape of his neck. For all that he looked and dressed like a gaijin, his accent betrayed him as native Japanese. His smile was mild and kind when he accepted his handkerchief back. "Are you feeling better now, Miss?" he asked.

Kaoru nodded briskly. "I'm fine now. If you'll excuse me…" she made as if to leave, but his hand closed around her arm once more and she felt the already maltreated fabric of her torn sleeve give all together.

The man swore as the lavender fabric came away in his hand and blushed with shame under Kaoru's malevolent glare. He grinned nervously and hid the sleeve behind his back as though he hoped she wouldn't notice it was gone. "I… ah… er… I wanted to say that I owe you for the fruit and the dress of course. I'll replace both! If you'll just wait a moment…"

She snorted, but slowed her steps. Honestly, she didn't have enough money to replace the fruit the idiot had destroyed. The kimono was no big loss. It had torn so easily that Kaoru doubted it would have lasted the day otherwise. "Fine, you can replace the fruit, but forget about the dress. I have others."

A frown creased the man's brow. "I distinctly remember you mentioning that this was your 'one good kimono.'" He snuck a glance at the thin and frayed sleeve he was hiding behind his back. "May I assume that the others are in worse condition than this?" Kaoru glared at him and he subsided.

The man fell in step beside her as Kaoru made her way determinedly toward the smallest, meanest little fruit stand in the marketplace. She knew the owner there. He only bought his produce after all the other vendors had picked over the shipments and the importers were desperate. He understood vengeance and made sure to reserve his very worst produce for her.

Idiot-sama, as Kaoru had taken to calling him in the privacy of her own mind chattered like a crow at her side. Mostly she ignored him, but occasionally he'd say or refer to something so incredibly wrong that she couldn't help but correct him.

"No, damn it!" she snapped as he started in on Herbert Spencer. "The man was not charitable at all! Who do you think coined the phrase 'survival of the fittest?' He literally believes that by donating to the poor he'd drag down the rest of society! For god's sake the man's a lunatic!"

Idiot-sama cocked a brow at her. "Unless I'm mistaken, I believe Darwin-san was responsible for that phrase. Although they do study the same phenomenon…"

Kaoru wanted to kick him. "No, they do not! That's a common misperception! Darwin-san is often accredited with the saying, but it was Spencer-san who coined it as a salve to his elitist conscience! Spencer-san is a sociologist! Darwin is a natural scientist! Those are two different fields entirely!"

The infuriating man only smiled and Kaoru suddenly realized that he'd known the truth from the beginning. He'd deliberately led her to think that he was ignorant… but why would he do that? Unless… She scowled again. "You bastard!" she hissed at him watching his eyes widen in surprise. "You're doing that deliberately! Are you trying to make a fool out of me!?"

That smile only widened. "I knew you'd catch on." He said cryptically. Something in his expression changed and Kaoru could have sworn that his eyes flickered gold for a split instant before he turned his face towards the Fruit stand. "You don't want these." He said before Kaoru could ask him what he'd meant.

Idiot-sama surveyed the meager contents of the stand while Kaoru's friend tried to make himself disappear. He picked up an orange and weighed it in his hand. "See, look! They're so light they must be completely dry inside!" he said with disgust and dropped it. "No, we're going somewhere else."

"But…!" Kaoru attempted to protested, but Idiot-sama's hand closed firmly around her wrist and she found herself dragged away before she could get out another word. They plunged into the crowd and Kaoru found herself tugged along in her companion's wake like a toy boat. They emerged by the storefronts where the crowds thinned. At first Kaoru thought he'd take her back to another stall, but her heart leapt into her throat when he dragged her into a first class fruit importer. The store he took her into wasn't the sort of place where one bought after supper treats. These fruits were shipped in crates packed with paper and straw. Each one was flawless. This was the sort of place where one bought offerings for the temple!

Kaoru watched numbly as Idiot-sama lived up to his nick name and paid for six succulent blood oranges which the proprietor placed carefully into her basket and packed it with paper. He spared a sympathetic glance at the stunned expression on her face, but the merchant was apparently well-used to Idiot-sama's foibles. It didn't end there, soon Kaoru found herself weighed down with a watermelon in a net bag that had to weigh twice what the first one had!

When she looked up to protest at the weight (honestly, it would be murder hauling the thing home!) she noticed that keen look had rekindled in Idiot-sama's eyes. He was waiting for her to say something. Kaoru narrowed her eyes and refused to give him the satisfaction!

"Thank you." She used the same saccharine sweet tone she had to force with Yumi. Idiot-sama frowned a little when she bowed. "Consider your debt repaid, sir. I must be going." She turned to go, but this time she knew to twist before he could catch her. "Hands off!" she said primly over her shoulder only to be brought up short when he appeared in front of her, charming grin intact.

"I still owe you a new dress." He reminded her. "Also, I don't know your name yet." He wiggled his eyebrow. "You can't leave before we've been properly introduced. Here, let me go first…" he blocked her with his body as she made to go around him. "My name is Himura Kenshin." He made a half bow and jumped back into her path when she tried to take advantage of it.

Kaoru felt the geas take hold of her as she instinctively opened her mouth to spit her name at him. That familiar feeling came over her and it was as though her mouth had suddenly filled with glue. "I don't have a name." she said finally and the pressure eased. "I don't want a new dress. Good-bye!"

Idiot-sama… or rather, Himura-san blocked her again, but this time his smile was gone. "Everyone has a name, my dear, and they have power." He said seriously. "Having given you mine, I must insist that you return the favor." His fingers tangled with hers on the woven handle of the watermelon bag. "Besides, if you must go then let me walk you back." He was too close. Kaoru felt her stomach do queer things as she felt the warmth radiating through his palm as it seeped into her knuckles. Instinctively her free hand came up to push him away but he caught her wrist and held it fast, idly rubbing a circle in the center of her palm with his thumb. "I'm not letting you go until you tell me your name." He said softly. The playful trickster of earlier was gone, replaced by someone Kaoru knew even less than the first although she'd been catching glimpses of him all day.

His eyes weren't just flickering gold now; they were solid amber and looked as though they could plunge into the depths of her soul. His smile was anything but mischievous… it was more anticipatory. Oh he wanted something and with a blush, Kaoru realized just how very naïve she'd been. "Hands off, I said!" she hissed. "I said it, I meant it, and if you want to keep those hands then you'll remove them from my person!"

"Not until you give me your name." he murmured in a voice only she could hear and for some reason it made her shiver. "I was serious about names having power. I'd be a fool to let you go until you gave me equal power over you."

"… and if I didn't?" Kaoru challenged him.

"Then I would have to take you home with me and keep you by my side until you did." He smiled slow and made something tighten in Kaoru's belly. "I may do that yet…"

Kaoru couldn't find words to reply, but for once she was saved by the sensation of her geas tightening around her chest. It was her fifteen minute warning: if she didn't start moving right that second she'd find herself literally dragged back. Himura-san wasn't budging and the geas was constricting. She pulled at his grasp, but he was stronger than her and made it worse my moving with her momentum so that she almost fell. A hand settled in the small of her back pressing up against the welts Yumi had dealt her the night before. Tears sprang into her eyes and between the pain, the geas, and his mule-headed stubbornness enough pressure and frustration built inside her that it had to be let free.

"Kaoru!" she cried out. "My name is Kaoru!"

Violet overtook the yellow in his gaze and he smiled. "Kaoru…" he rolled the word on his tongue as though he was tasting it and committing it to memory. "A strong name; it suits you." True to his word he released her. "I'll be seeing you around, Kaoru."

She fled.

Kenshin watched as the strange girl… no, Kaoru vanished into the crowd. He lost sight of her almost immediately when she ducked behind a large man and didn't reappear. He was honestly impressed, it took a great deal of skill to evade him for even a short period of time. 'After all' he thought dryly, 'They didn't call me Battousai for nothing.'

Himura Kenshin, formerly Himura the Battousai had been in retirement for over ten years. In that time he'd been called out once or twice, but mainly the Meiji Government had left him in peace with a rather large stipend and several nice properties to keep him company. Mostly he had very little to do except manage his estates, dodge his neighbors' single daughters, and deal with occasional 'problem' attracted by his bloody past. He was a man of leisure and it suited him badly, but he could never find a hobby that consumed him.

What few friends he had advised him to marry. A woman would serve nicely to keep him on his toes, but until recently he'd been singularly disinterested in the avaricious, hard-eyed little strumpets who kept flinging themselves in his path. Despite his fearsome reputation he had a reasonable fortune and tolerable good looks, which meant that no matter where he went he found himself surrounded by dulcet voices, sickeningly sweet perfume, and batting lashes.

Now… now there was something interesting in his life. Angry, sarcastic, and thorny as hell: Kaoru was the antithesis of the women he had to dodge daily. First she'd had the audacity to strike him when any other woman in town would have instantly recognized the characteristic scar on his face. In all the years he'd been living in Tokyo he'd never had to introduce himself to anyone. The downside of that was that his reputation usually preceded him and the common folk whose freedom he'd shed blood for shrank away from him. She hadn't recognized his face or name, or if she had, she didn't care.

Secondly she was completely oblivious to her own needs. He was positive that she wasn't shopping on her own behalf. Her hands were the hands of a working woman; hard, callused, and cracked from the abuse she inflicted on them daily. There was a woman who wasn't afraid to get dirty. However, when it came to her kimono there was no budging her. She quite obviously did not take charity.

He'd have to be sneaky about replacing that dress.

There was more about her that intrigued him. Her wit for example was razor sharp even it she instinctively lashed out with it. She was educated as well, which was odd for a woman of her class, but not unheard of. Something about the way she moved also told him that she was quite capable of following through on any threat she might make to his person. Not all of the calluses on her hands were from brooms.

"Are you quite finished?" The voice came from behind him and Kenshin didn't have to turn to know his good friend, Shinomori Aoshi had finally tired of playing spy.

"For the moment," Kenshin sighed happily. Teasing his young lady had resulted in more fun that he'd had in years. He was looking forward to their next match already, which reminded him…

Kenshin drew the tattered lavender sleeve from his copious pockets and handed it to Aoshi. "Can you use this to find her?" he didn't need to say who 'she' was. Aoshi had been quietly following them from a distance since the moment Kenshin had knocked Kaoru down while evading one of his old comrade's daughters.

Aoshi took the sleeve and considered it silently. Kenshin turned to face him and found that the Mage had picked up a shinai from somewhere and was idly tapping it against his thigh. "I'm afraid I cannot. It hasn't had enough contact with her and until recently belonged to someone else. The impressions of her are too light for me to strain." He lifted the shinai before Kenshin could interject. "The young lady dropped this. It has been in her possession for a long while. I can sense her hands on the hilt as far back as eight years. I believe it knows its way home."

Trust Aoshi not to disappoint, although he was being abnormally helpful. Usually the ex-spy only concerned himself with Kenshin's physical safety. He'd never intervened with Kenshin's women problems before.

Shinomori Aoshi was a relic from the Bakumatsu just the same as Kenshin, although Aoshi had functioned as a Spy Master and defense coordinator for the Shogun. Even though they'd been on different sides during the fighting, there had always been a measure of mutual respect on both sides as they'd matched wits and swords over the years. After the battles were done, they settled into an uneasy truce that had eventually blossomed into genuine friendship. Still, Aoshi was a man of few words and while he had taken on the job of safeguarding Kenshin's properties and by extension him, the man rarely intruded on his personal life.

"Thank you," Kenshin said shortly almost warily. "You're being awfully helpful today, Shinomori. Is there something I should know?"

The corner of Aoshi's mouth twitched in what passed for a smile. "Nothing… yet." He regarded the shinai in his hand. "A puzzle perhaps… there are layers upon layers of spiritual impressions on this weapon. Some are magical and fairly recent." His smile faded. "The signature is familiar somehow, though I cannot place it: familiar and foul."

Kenshin frowned. "The girl?" He guessed while privately hoping it was not so. He hadn't noticed any of the tell tale marks in her aura that spell casting left behind, but neither was he very skilled in the Arts Magica. He had a certain measure of latent talent that allowed him to recognize offensive energy when it was coming straight at him, but little else. Aoshi was a mage far and beyond Kenshin's meager skills, although he was a far superior swordsman than the ninja.

"No." The reply was instantaneous. Aoshi shook his head for good measure. "She has some small potential, but she is like you. She'll never go beyond a few cantrips and spells. Still, her will is pure and focused. She may be a student of some sort of martial arts. No, I think she may be associated with a mage or under his power. The taint seemed to overshadow the traces of her energy. I was not close enough to her to see anything else."

The flicker of pain and desperation in Kaoru's eyes flitted through Kenshin's memory. He'd only touched her. Was she under a curse or a compulsion of some kind? That might have explained her reluctance to give her name. A woman under the thumb of a black magician would well know the dangers of giving her name to a stranger. That was probably the way she'd gotten into her current situation.

'Not in my town,' Kenshin thought darkly. He'd spent his youth eliminating such magi. They'd fattened on the blood and death generated by the revolution and hadn't lacked for victims to drain dry in service to their masters. Some rare few had escaped the slaughter, but they generally were old and canny. They kept a low profile, but it wasn't inconceivable that one had taken up residence under his very nose.

"Find her." He snapped, suddenly irritable. "If what you say is true then if you find her, you find the mage."

Aoshi nodded and vanished into the crowd leaving Kenshin with only his bad temper and a torn sleeve for company. The former Hitokiri considered the fabric in his hand for a long while before smiling grimly.

"I'll see you again." He said to himself.

End Chapter One

Seiyuu: Here's the next section. There aren't any bits edited out this chapter and there won't be until chapter three or four so don't worry about looking for the full version for a while. I promise, I will provide a link to the full chapters.