Rise from the grave! I'm back with more action and plot development. Unedited, of course. w00t! ^_^

To the reviewers: You're wonderful. Truly!

A/N:  //text// indicates thought

And here's the little quote I couldn't get out of my head while writing this chapter:

"Ooo, I just love dark and scary places! Here I go!"
- Mosquiton, from Master of Mosquiton

Desert Rose
By Lady Calliope

Chapter 16: What Fools These Mortals Be

"My Lord, I've returned with the information you requested."

"I hope it wasn't anything too challenging for you," he smirked, swirling the rest of his wine once before draining the goblet. Setting the empty vessel on the stone floor next to him, he turned his expectant eyes back to his most loyal follower. Of course, Shishio's loyalty had nothing to do with idealism and everything to do with money. Loyalty was a thing easily bought.

A confident smirk greeted his eyes. "Of course not, my Lord. I have been well-trained," he responded. Snapping his fingers, a servant emerged from the shadows of the doorway behind them and hastily handed a stack of papers to Shishio, who dismissed him just as quickly. The assassin handed his superior the documents while he reported his findings. "They have fled to the desert, my Lord, just as you expected. Tracking them presented no obstacle—he was in too much of a hurry to take the necessary evasive precautions. Thanks to his oversight, we now know the location of the Hitokiri encampment as well as their numbers, both of which have been detailed for you on the map and the accompanying papers. Everything is included there: guard rotations, ranks, leaders, numbers, defenses, etcetera. I hope all of this is to your satisfaction, my Lord."

"As usual, you have provided me all that I need, Shishio. Excellent work," he replied, the smile on his face twisting into something sinister and dark as he withdrew something from within his robe. "The time has finally come for us to move ahead. Take these letters and dispatch two messengers at once, one to the Hitokiri camp and one to the Nihamran capital. Do not fail me."

"As you wish, my Lord."

The firelight cast shadows upon the spot where the bandaged man had stood not half a minute before. His smile never abating, he took up the pitcher of wine and poured himself another glass. A devilish glint playing in his eyes, he raised the goblet briefly before taking a sip.

A toast to revenge.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Campfire. That was the smell to which she had awoken. But why on earth would the palace smell like a campfire? Blinking, she looked around and finally remembered what had happened, where she was. She was in the middle of the desert, surrounded on all sides by men, recovering from poison, most likely banned from her home city, and clothed in the same dress she had been wearing for the past three days. Hopefully, she would start waking up sometime soon without forgetting where she was or how she came to be there. But that thought was the furthest from her mind at that moment. Kaoru sighed, frustrated, overwhelmed, dirty, and sore.

At least this new day presented some small measure of good news for her. Flexing and stretching her muscles, she found that she was no longer in pain from the poison, just a little sore. Putting the back of her hand to her forehead, she deduced that her fever had gone down as well. Whatever medicine she had been given, it had worked almost perfectly: except for one thing. As she ran her cottony tongue over her dry lips, she felt the most ferocious thirst she had ever experienced. Simply put, she was beyond parched. Glancing all around the interior of the tent, her fervently searching eyes failed to recognize anything that might pass for a water vessel. Determination dominating her other emotions, she threw off the blanket covering her and stood up.

A moment later, she fell right back down.

//Okay, so apparently my strength hasn't returned in full yet.// Kaoru concluded. //No matter. This is nothing! It's just a matter of mind over body, that's all.// And so revived, the petite young woman attempted to stand again, but at a much slower pace. As soon as she had managed to support herself on her feet, she grabbed one of the tent's thick, wooden support poles. Grinning in triumph, she steadily made her way to the tent flap, using anything she could get her hands on as support. Eventually, she made it to the entrance by clinging to one of the two poles on either side of the doorway and pulled one flap aside. She had not been expecting the sight that greeted her.

The camp was completely empty, not a soul in sight. No matter how she squinted and strained in the light of the dying day, she could not catch a glimpse of any other residents of the camp. //That's strange. I wonder if Kenshin…No, that couldn't be it.// she remembered. //He left before dawn this morning.// The thought made her blush as she recalled the reason why she knew when he had left. She had been slipping somewhere between sleeping and awake in the early hours of the morning, the poison never allowing her to succumb completely to rest. Faintly, she felt something brush against her forehead, followed closely by a whispered word and light footsteps before all was silent again. Had he kissed her, or had she been imagining things? It was most likely a hallucination produced by her subconscious. Yes, that was it. But as she reflected on it even more, her doubt was slowly quelled and hope rose within her as she recalled the gentle way in which he had whispered goodbye before leaving the tent. She remembered that even more distinctly than his kiss. Perhaps because his voice then had reminded her of what his eyes had said three nights ago when they had almost…

//Idiot! Stop dwelling in a fantasy. He doesn't feel the same way you do. You're just a child to him!// the rational part of her mind chastised.

Having successfully dampened her spirits with self-deprecation, Kaoru set off in search of water. She needed something, anything, to get her mind off the man that had slowly been consuming her thoughts since the day they had met in the palace gardens.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

The sun had traveled swiftly though its cosmic course—birth, maturity, middle age—and was coming upon its brilliant death before he awoke. Blinking, he tried to grasp the concept of time, and his eyes widened in shock when he realized how late it was. He had already been gone for an entire day. Had so many hours passed since he left the army encampment? Time seemed to move faster farther out in the desert; the entire night and most of the day were passed. Although, not much of the night had been spent sleeping.

Aoshi smirked at that thought, and then turned his head to look at the source of all this mental time manipulation. She was a child when she slept, truly. The peacefulness of rest smoothed the faint lines on her face and wiped all knowledge from her lips, exposing a picture of who she really was to the world: a woman wise in years and forever young at heart. Her hair was wild and untamed, claiming much of the area where their heads rested. The tan, smooth skin of her naked shoulders and small breasts shown above the blanket, which protected everything below her waist from his wandering eyes. Seven years. So much had changed in each of them, between them. Yet some things remained as they always had been. She was still beautiful, still strong, still Misao. His Misao.

Memories from the previous night came back to him as he gazed at her face. How he had ever survived this long without her he didn't know. When Kenshin and he were attacked that night, he had physically died. There was no mistake in that. He had felt his soul slip away from this world. But then, what felt like moments later, he awoke as if from a dream, feeling only solid, smooth flesh where there had previously been a gaping wound. Dried blood was on his clothes and the grass and sand surrounding him. He had no idea what had happened; he only remembered smelling the faint scent of white plums on the air as a rare breeze blew through the desert. Convinced he was somewhere between living and dead, he had wandered away from the oasis, in search of an answer, a reason. Days later, feeling half dead, he had collapsed in the sands.

When he awoke, he had found himself in a tent, lying on a pile of blankets and mats. A man walked through the entrance at that moment, curtly explaining to him that his men had found Aoshi face down in the sand near the encampment. Aoshi's sight was not completely recovered yet so the man's identity remained unknown, yet the voice was oddly familiar. After a few days of rehabilitation, Aoshi had had a long conversation with the same man—his general, Saitoh—and he had learned much. He had ended up in the encampment of the Kahaktrian army, where he had been missing from for one week. In order to pay his debt to the general for saving his life, Aoshi had agreed to work exclusively for Saitoh as a reconnaissance soldier for a few months. Eventually, the days had turned to months, the months to years, and Aoshi continued working solely in Saitoh's service. He had come to respect the gruff man as a superior and a comrade of sorts, much more than he did before he was attacked. Many times his mind had drifted to Misao and Kenshin, and just as many times he convinced himself it would be better if he didn't go back. For all he knew, Kenshin had been killed by the same man during the fight and dragged off, or captured, or something similar. Any way he looked at it, he had failed his friend and leader. And Misao…he knew that if he returned to her, he would never come back. He wouldn't want to, and she wouldn't let him. And over the years, he convinced himself that the reason why he hadn't died that night was this very line of work: he had to fulfill his duty to his country, loved ones, and friends. He had failed to protect them in his previous life, and he would not bring shame upon them by returning defeated or failing them again. He would become the strongest. Only then could he return to his previous life.

//I wasn't wrong.// he thought, gently pulling a lock of hair from Misao's peaceful face. //I simply chose a path and followed it. And yet, if not for my self-righteousness and pride, I could have prevented much of the suffering she and Himura had to endure. I became the strongest, but at what price? I will not hurt her anymore. I will not leave her again.// His eyes were drawn to her face as a small moan escaped her lips, followed by a muffled whisper. "Aoshi…"

How had he lived this long without her love?

"I'm right here. I always will be."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

"General! General!"

Saitoh sighed in irritation. Why did these fools he called his men have to yell and scream everything as if it's the end of the world? At least Aoshi managed to keep quiet most of the time. The general almost found himself missing his lieutenant, but he would never admit it. //Besides, the idiot's probably still with the weasel. It's only been a day.// he thought. Aoshi's absence seemed only to serve to elevate the stupidity of his soldiers, or so Saitoh thought. However, long ago, he had concluded that he would never be able to just sit and smoke in peace. It was a dream as impossible as humans on the moon.

"What is it now?" he snapped in reply to the frantic voice outside his quarters.

"Sir!" The soldier burst through the entrance, placing his hands on his knees and panting as if he had just run the length of the desert. "General…contact…Nihamra…marching…"

The general's eyes narrowed at the mention of their neighboring kingdom and rival. "Well, spit it out, boy!" he ordered.

The young man took a few deep breaths in a valiant attempt to control his wildly beating heart. Better to die of asphyxiation than to get on the Saitoh's bad side. "Sir, we just…received word…from our contact in Nihamra," he began, trying to make his sentences as complete and understandable as possible. "Nihamra is on the attack. They…mobilized two days ago. They'll be here in three days at their current pace."

Whatever reaction the soldier had been expecting from his superior, he had most certainly not expected annoyance. And certainly not directed at him. "General, what are our orders?" he prompted, attempting to instill the gravity of the situation in his normally competent commanding officer's mind.

"Do not attempt to direct my actions, soldier. I will give the orders when I feel it necessary. Now leave," he enjoined, smirking to himself as the young man's eyes widened in shock. //Youth is wasted on the moronic.//

"Y…Yes, sir," the soldier replied, fumbling from the tent. Once outside, he turned his incredulous eyes back to the general's tent. Did nothing surprise this man?

After the youth had left, Saitoh glanced down at the map on his desk. He had been expecting something like this from Nihamra, although he hadn't expected it so soon. Those war mongering idiots had been looking for a reason to attack Kahaktri, and the entire fiasco at the banquet was the perfect excuse. And it had taken place at a suspiciously good time, as well. Himura had returned to the palace from the desert, two prominent guests and friends of the emperor had come to stay for a visit, Battousai had fallen for one of them, and the emperor fancied the other. Tensions between the two kingdoms were at their peak, the futile diplomatic attempts at peace had been resting on the signing of that treaty at the banquet, and the blame for the assassinations had rested entirely on Himura's woman. Kaoru Kamiya. The more he thought about it, the more Saitoh was convinced of one thing.

Someone with high prestige and access to the palace and emperor was trying to start a war, one that would involve everyone connected to the royal family. And Himura was somehow at the center of it all.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Misao awoke as something next to her stirred. Suddenly, the warmth that had let her sleep so sweetly was gone, and she felt its cold absence. Turning, her eyes adjusted to the dim light of dusk as she took in the figure of a man. Putting on his clothes. In her tent. She did what any normal gypsy would do when confronted with a stranger in her home. She let out a piercing yell and attacked.

She found it strange when her fist was stopped mid-punch, and found it even stranger that her lips were being covered by someone else's. Before she could retaliate, however, the man spoke in a whisper, a voice she had heard only in her dreams for seven years.

"That's no way to greet a lover in the morning. Or evening, as it were."

"Aoshi…" she whispered, collapsing into his chest with tear-filled eyes. "You're really here. I had convinced myself that it was all a dream, that I had only imagined everything that happened…"

He smirked. "If that is the case, Misao, then you have an extremely naughty imagination," he replied, trying to bring back that smile he loved so much. Immediately, he was rewarded with a peel of laughter and the brightest grin he had ever seen. Truthfully, he had suffered from the same dream—or nightmare, rather—that Misao had experienced. //I suppose it's true. Nothing really can change overnight.//

"I'm glad to see you've retained your sense of humor," she retorted, laughing even more at the incredulous eyebrow he raised at her. "In any case, let's eat. I'm starving!"

His smirk evolving into a genuine smile, he nodded his agreement and the two set out to prepare a meal for two: something neither had done in what seemed like a lifetime. It was odd, really, to have to double the amount of everything they cooked. But the result was well worth it. While they ate, they talked of many things, of fools and kings, changes and constancies, peace and war. And all the while, they acted as if they had never been separated. Misao poured extra wine for Aoshi, he took all the salted meat from her food while she took the pickled vegetables from his. All of this without even speaking of it, asking for it. They had not forgotten. Laughter, smirks, and meaningful glances sprinkled their conversation. It was the best meal either of them had ever experienced.

After the last morsels of food were cleared from their portions, both turned to the cooking fire and added more wood, watching as it roared to life. They sat side by side in silence for a few moments, gazing into the flames, before Aoshi spoke. Something had been troubling his mind ever since he had last conversed with Saitoh. It was not uncommon for rumors to spread like wildfire in an army camp, but there was one that had become more of a legend than a rumor while Aoshi had been there after he was attacked by Shishio. Often the men would talk of the feared marauders, the Hitokiris, and their leader. This was nothing new, as they had talked of the band while Aoshi was still a Hitokiri. But something had changed in the leader. A demon, they called him. He had eyes that changed color depending on how great his bloodlust was, and swordsmanship that could bring down ten men in less than one minute. No one knew what he looked like, save for his eyes, although there was the rare—and often dismissed—report that he had a crossed scar on his face. But that was just a rumor that most did not heed. He's never killed, they said, but he had come close by seriously injuring those who challenged him. A lethal shadow. Battousai. 

//Himura was my leader, and he was called Battousai then, as well. But who is this man they speak of with such fear in their eyes? A demon? Is it possible Himura was bested as leader of the Hitokiris? But that's not possible. I would have heard of such a thing. And these rumors only started a little while after I was attacked…//

"Misao," he said quietly, disrupting the quiet as well as the cacophony of thoughts in his head. She turned to look at him, eyes questioning the serious tone in his voice. "Tell me something. I know nothing of what happened to Himura after I was…attacked," he began, choosing his words carefully. Her eyes hardened at the mention of his friend's name.

"And he didn't seem himself when I saw him before I came here. I know you have powers that can see anything, and you must know about him. Please, tell me what has become of Himura in these past seven years?"

Hate filled her eyes. "I do not care in the least what happened to that man. He killed you and took you away from me. I don't know how you came back, but I cannot forgive him for betraying you. For betraying me."

He sighed a long suffering sigh. "I thought you would have come to that conclusion when I saw him at the army camp.  As that was probably how it looked, I cannot blame you. But Misao," he murmured, looking her in the eye, "Himura didn't kill me. He tried to save me, but I was too weak."

"What are you saying?" she whispered.

"We were attacked by a stranger. An assassin named Shishio. He was the one who drained my blood, not Himura. Because of me, the assassin escaped before he could track him."

She was shocked into silence. She couldn't comprehend what her lover was saying. //He didn't kill Aoshi?// she puzzled to herself, a slow feeling of dread coming upon her. //But that means…// She collapsed, her hands on the sides of her head. //That means I've cursed an innocent man! A friend!// Tears fell unbidden from her eyes. "Aoshi, forgive me! Please, forgive me…" she whispered.

He wrapped her in his embrace. "I could never hold you accountable, Misao. You had no way of knowing," he answered, stroking her back.

"But, but Himura…"

"…Will forgive you. He is a kind man," Aoshi interrupted before she could finish. "I'm sure there is a way to right everything, but you must tell me what you've done."

Nodding her agreement against his chest, she withdrew from his arms and turned her gaze to the fire. "All I could see was him holding your body. There was blood everywhere, on his sword, the ground…I could never forgive him for taking you away from me. I wanted to make him pay for the pain he had caused me," she began, pausing to collect her thoughts. "I delved into my darkest powers, using my anger and hate to increase the affect of the curse. Covered in blood, he still looked so horrified and guilty. I thought I would make him feel like for the rest of his life. So I cursed him with a second soul, one of bloodlust, a demon's soul. He would forever have two powers warring within his mind: the power to protect and the power to destroy. His eyes would constantly show his fight. Eventually, the two conflicting souls would tear him apart mentally and physically, a pain I thought compared to my own…"

"I'm so sorry, Kenshin," she whispered to the air. "If only I had known…"

Aoshi listened to her story in its entirety, never taking his eyes off her. When she had finished, he took her into his arms again and kissed her head, rocking her as she cried. "It was beyond your power to control your feelings. You saw and heard what everyone else thought. Himura will understand, he is still your friend," he comforted her. "Is there any way to lift the curse, Misao? Any way to reverse it?"

She looked up at him sadly and shook her head. "No. There is no way to lift it or reverse it," she whispered, anguished.

"Is there anything that can be done?"

She thought. "You cannot dispel the curse, but you can control it completely. If Kenshin can find peace between the demon and the man inside of him, he will overcome the curse."

Something sparked through Aoshi's eyes as she spoke. Kissing her softly, he helped her to her feet. "If that's all there is to it, then don't lose faith in his recovery. There is hope for him yet."

"Now, let's go pay a visit to the general, shall we?"

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

//Gods, do they ever clean this place?// Kaoru thought to herself as she wandered back towards Kenshin's tent. She looked at the campsite around her in disgust. Clothes, leftover food, weapons, broken pots and pitchers, horse feces, and other trash were scattered all over the ground. No wonder there were no other women there. Or at least, no women that weren't that kind of women. //Stop that! Concentrate on more important things. Like where in the hell is Kenshin's tent?!// Taking another sip from the tanned animal-skin water sack she had found, she set off in the direction where she thought the leader's quarters were located.

Half an hour later, she was sitting on the pile of fine blankets and pillows where she had been laying for the past three days. Today, the fourth day, was the first time she had risen from her prone position on the ground and actually explored the camp. After quite a few stretches and countless attempts, she had finally succeeded in walking without having to grab hold of everything in site. Of course, after all of her exertions, she was practically starving, but at least she was no longer dying of thirst. And in addition, her scouring of the camp had led her to discover where everyone had gone. They were training at the far end of the encampment: sparring, practicing, and sword fighting. She had so badly wanted to join them—it felt like she hadn't held a sword in years—but she knew she shouldn't push herself. After watching them for a while, one man whom she recognized as Souzo had come over see if she needed anything. He had helped her find water and pointed her back in the general direction of Kenshin's tent. But her sense of direction was never very strong.

Shaking her head at her own clumsiness, she took another gulp of water. //Nothing tastes better than this, not even the finest wines.// she thought to herself. Suddenly, the flap opened without warning and she almost spit out the water in her mouth in surprise. She had not been expecting anyone. Looking up, she was relieved to see Souzo standing in the entrance. "You scared me, Souzo!" she smiled. "What's going on?"

"Sorry, Miss Kamiya, I didn't mean to disturb you," he apologized. "I just need to see how your body's recovering from the poison and give you the last dose of medicine."

"Only on one condition," she retorted.

"Oh?" he replied, raising an eyebrow. "And what's that?"

She smiled. "Call me Kaoru. No need to be formal."

"Alright, Kaoru," he answered, smirking. "Let's see just how much you've recovered."

He sat down next to her on the ground and pulled a small vial from his shirt. She recognized the blue medicine she had been forced to swallow once a day for the past few days. It was vile. Souzo laughed at her grimace as her eyes rested on the vial. "Don't worry, you don't have to take that just yet."

"Good," she responded, shooting daggers at the medicine. Suddenly, his hands were feeling her throat and her jaw. "Wh…what are you doing, Souzo?!"

He chuckled. "Calm down. I'm just checking your glands, Kaoru. I need to make sure the poison hasn't spread and escaped our notice."

"Oh," was all she could say. //Stupid girl, panicking at the smallest contact. How do you expect Kenshin to love you if…No, no, not thinking about that.//

And so they sat, talking of the assassination and theorizing about the conspiracy that seemed to be looming about them. He felt Kaoru's throat and jaw, as well as her sides. To anyone who didn't know the circumstances, it would look like the two were playing a game between lovers.

It was at that moment that Kenshin stepped inside the tent.

He froze immediately at the sight before him. Karou was sitting with eyes wide and riveted on him, hands down at her sides. And Souzo had his hands on her side, just below her arms, his eyes as shocked as hers. Kenshin saw red as the demon within him called out for his comrade's blood.

"K…Kenshin!" she stammered.

"You're back! How'd it go?" Souzo asked as he withdrew his hands from her and stood up. "It seems Kaoru here has recovered nicely. I just gave her the last bit of medicine, and she checked out fine."

Kenshin's mind flared as Souzo spoke of Kaoru so casually.

"He said I'll be back to my normal strength in three days," she added, a smile on her face.

//Calm down, idiot. He was just making sure she's all right. It's not like he was attacking her!// he screamed at himself. With great effort, he forced his bloodlust away and quelled the demon once more. But jealousy still remained within him; his friend had gotten to touch her in ways he only dreamed of. Even if it was only a check-up.

"That's good news, Miss Kaoru," he replied, forcing a grin on his face.

"So, Kenshin, tell us what happened. What did Saitoh have to say?" Souzo questioned impatiently.

"It's a long story, one I'll gladly share later. You're never going to believe…"

"Himura!" an urgent voice called from outside the tent.

"Come in," the redhead replied patiently.

"Sir," the young man addressed him, "this just arrived by messenger for you from Sumaktra." He handed Kenshin a sealed letter, and left the tent quickly.

"From the capital? What could they possibly want with you? And how did they know where you were?" Kaoru wondered aloud, looking at Kenshin with questioning eyes.

"I haven't the slightest idea," he said, breaking open the seal and unfolding the paper. As his eyes scanned the lines, his hands began to shake in rage, clenching the letter. "How dare he…" he whispered through clenched teeth. He shoved the letter at Kaoru, barely suppressing the urge to kill something, anything.

Fear and anger played across her face as she read the letter aloud.

Battousai-

The time has come for you to answer for your crimes, for the blood on your hands. If you want your precious Kaoru Kamiya's honor restored, come to the capital in three days time and face me. If you do not, I'm afraid I will have to kill my brother the emperor and the good doctor Megumi to show my disappointment. And then I will face you as Emperor of Kahaktri.

I know what you've done. My sister will have her retribution.

-Enishi Yukishiro

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

tbc…

Finally! This chapter's much longer than my others to make up for the lack of updating. And the plot thickens, eh? I'm sorry if some of this is confusing, but hopefully it will all make sense in the end. Only a few more chapters to go. And did anyone catch my reference to a Moulin Rouge song in there?

And sorry, but I didn't have time for review responses this chapter. I wanted to get this out as soon as possible. Gomen! Look for them next time. ^_^