A/N: Okay! Now for something a little... well, not really different. This is a classic love story, told over and over again throughout time and history. I have borrowed it and made it my own for the nefarious purpose of pleasing my beloved friend Nebride.
Two things:
1.) The wedding practices described in this are actually dated from about the fourteenth century, not the ninth BC when this story actually takes place. I couldn't find any reliable sources for the really really ancient practices, so made do with the earliest ones I could find. The one I chose, fourteenth century Shinto wedding, fit my purposes for this story best. So the historical discrepancy doesn't bother you history buffs, just pretend that demon practices are waaayyyy ahead of human ones. Their customs are different anyway, so it's not too much of a stretch. I hope.
2.) This is actually a side story to my larger Inuyasha epic, 'Once Upon an Inuyoukai.' The first italicized portion is actually an excerpt from Chapter 6 of that, and continues on from it. If you aren't following that story, then some of this won't make sense to you. For instance, Ryuunomei and his brother Ryuukotsusei are the main 'villains' of the other story. It's still readable, though, so don't let that put you off!
Without further ado, on with this tale of tragedy, woe, and romance. Yay. I hope you like this, Nebride! I love you!
OooooooooooooooooooO
Thank You # 6: Nebride
Show: Inuyasha
Pairing: Inupapa/Sessmom (Inutaisho/Mai)
Scenario: All she really said was that she wanted it to be romantic. :grins:
Lemon: No. I probably will eventually write some smut for them, but this is PG-13 for some violence.
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Historical Significance
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Part I- Irony
Irony was a funny thing.
The situation went like this: just as he'd finally made up his mind to want her after all, the world turned right around and smirking, balked him again in the opposite direction.
He thought back to when they'd met, promised blindly to each other and resentful of their captivity to duty.
He smoldered in not-so-silent fury, glaring into his tall father's cold, narrowed eyes. "I was to choose! You promised I could choose my own mate, when the time came! Why have you broken your promise? And why her? You know I've never liked her, or her family. I don't understand!"
He was young, and volatile, and only just beginning to be allowed to make decisions for himself. That the privilege had been taken away so soon without explanation rankled more than a little.
"What about Umira? You know I only want her. I love her. She loves me. She'll be devastated if I'm forced to marry someone else."
His father's impassive face infuriated him.
"Answer me!"
The great golden eyes narrowed. "Do not be an idiot," the great demon lord bit out. "First, duty comes before love for the taiyoukai. If we are to avoid war with the Iruka clan, this match is desperately needed. Secondly, you do not 'love' your little half-breed toy. She is not pureblood inuyoukai, being tainted with wolfblood, therefore she is not suitable for you. You have had your fun. Now it is time to be a man." The tall silver form turned in the light from the open shoji. "Do not disappoint me with any more foolish rantings. You are my son. Do me proud."
Tears of frustration burned in Inutaisho's eyes, but he fiercely held them back as he watched his father leave and slide the shoji shut behind him. Then he let them flow, but only for a moment. Taiyoukai did not weep.
The shadow beyond the door paused.
"She is waiting in the courtyard. Do your duty."
Inutaisho angrily dashed the wetness off his cheeks and stood, muscles clenched. "Very well, Father. Your will be done."
The fury was still there in his voice, but controlled.
Inumaru lingered a moment longer, then moved off. A silent Inutaisho followed sullenly into the bright sunlight of the courtyard. He blinked a moment, and then his eyes focused and he saw her for the first time since they had both been children.
Gentle, honey coloured eyes regarded him calmly from beneath a thin veil.
Suddenly, all his ranting seemed childish and selfish. She stood with perfect grace, endless silver hair cloaking her shoulders, indistinguishable with the flowing white gown she wore. There were five freckles on her right cheek, but that was her only imperfection. If they could even be called imperfections, that was: even they seemed to contribute to the glory of the whole.
His eyes met hers... and Umira and his 'love' for her became distant, painless memories.
Had there ever been a time when he did not love this goddess? It was more that her physical perfection-- Umira had that too, all high-level youkai did. It was the golden light in her eyes, the tranquillity and warmth that flowed from them, and the deep pool of mischievous energy that lay behind the serenity. It was the way she stood, so sure of herself without being arrogant. It was the way she looked at him without the hatred that might rightfully have been there. It was the way she just was, without any falsity or deception.
"My lady Mai," he greeted her quietly. The expanse of courtyard between them had vanished, once upon a somewhen. He lifted her slim, unblemished hand and pressed his lips to it. "Have you been well?" Words. Stupid, meaningless, polite words.
She nodded and thanked him, but her voice was a silver rushing in his ears.
His goddess. His beautiful woman-child, his lady of corn.
A month.
That's how long the universe had allowed him to bask in the glory of his bright new future, before yanking it out from under his feet. Irony was a funny, cruel thing.
He lifted the scrolled missive and slowly read it again, disbelieving.
We write with the gravest news and heavy hearts.
Princess Mai's elder sister Mirei has recently passed away due to a lingering illness which finally overcame her. Certain circumstances surrounding her death require that her younger sister assume her duties in her stead. Unfortunately, this means that her engagement to your son Inutaisho must be broken. This is truly regrettable for both of us, however it must be done.
With deepest apologies,
Iruka Pobei,
Aide to Lord Iruka.
The translation of the verbose missive was this: Mirei had been promised in a crucial alliance with the Lord of the East, and her death meant that Mai had to go in her stead to marry the Eastlord. The great family of the West was powerful, but as close kin of theirs not so much of a threat as the East was, and maintaining peace with them took precendence beyond a doubt.
His lovely wife-to-be was now promised to another. He fought the urge to shred the missive into ragged shreds, find her, and steal her away to live in the mountains as a hermit with him. We'd have a garden, and whatever I could catch with my claws... and weave blankets of our shed fur for the winter... Stop. There is no point to this train of thought.
The only thing that stopped him was the knowledge of what would happen to her if he did so. If she refused to marry the Eastlord and absconded with him, she would be hunted down, shamed, and most likely either imprisoned or executed. Her rank lay across her slim shoulders like massive iron chains, threatening to break her if she did not move where they directed her.
Agonized, he chewed on his knuckles and stared sightlessly at the off-white scroll and its harsh black slashes of ink.
Over the past few weeks they'd spent a lot of time together, learning the contours of each other and planning a future together. A typical day involved them eating breakfast together, then wandering up to the shores of their favourite hidden mountain lake and talking the day away until the gathering darkness forced them to return. They would bring picnic lunches and dinners and eat whenever they felt hungry, content in each other's company.
The blazing shine of love-at-first-sight had faded, but been replaced with something much more satisfying. They knew now that they enjoyed each other's presence, and knew also that they would be able to live a life of several millennia together peacefully. It was a wonderful thing to understand.
Then, just when they had finally come to terms with everything their obligations had thrown at them, this had happened.
Behind him, he heard the shoji slide quietly open and powerful footsteps cross the floor. A strong hand descended onto his shoulder.
"Father," Inutaisho greeted flatly. Flat, flat, flat as missive written on a sheet of rice-paper.
"You will accept this," Inumaru said behind him in a deep, threatening voice. "You will do nothing. Do you understand me?"
"Perfectly."
"Then you will let this go?"
Inutaisho turned around and met his father's narrow eyes. He said nothing.
Inumaru growled. "If you do anything, anything at all, I will disown you."
Silence.
The warlord snarled and stalked out. Inutaisho listened to him go and didn't care. Even if he had wanted to do something, what could he possibly do that would not endanger Mai?
And yet, he could not bear the thought of losing her to the cold dragons of the East. She would wither there, like a rose in shadow, denied the sun. The East was not a place for such as her. Away from his side was no place for her, period.
She belongs with me.
All of a sudden, the four thin walls of his room were far too small to hold him. He catapulted from his chair into a dead run, slamming the shoji aside and fleeing the compound of his ancestral home without a backwards glance.
At first he did not know where he was going. His feet did, however, and he soon found himself on the shores of their lake, staring glassily at the unruffled surface of the water. I cannot let this pass unanswered. And yet, what can I do?
His father had already seemed to accept the slight of the broken engagement, perhaps out of fear of an attack against him from the East. In any case, Inutaisho knew he would receive no aid from that quarter. Not that he ever had before.
He could not stomach the thought of thousands of years of life spent with anyone else, and could bear even less the thought of her spending those thousands of years in the arms of another. He was viciously jealous and did not care what others might think of his possessiveness. She is mine! But... ah, but. There is always a 'but.'
Inutaisho sat down on the grassy bank and sank his head into his hands.
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A/N: After some deliberation, Nebride, I decided to make this a chaptered fic because it was just too long as a one-shot. It deserves chapters.