Uchikake: A bright and colorful kimono worn elusively by ladies of warrior or noble families. They are crafted from silk and silk brocade and are richly embroidered. In colder weather, it would be tied half-open over three more layers of kimono.
Inu no taishou: Leader of dogs. This is a title, not a name. However, when Amayami uses this honorific title, it is generally to mock her husband.
Sashinuki: (also called nu-bakama) are the large trousers gathered at the ankle. This is typical warrior grab. These are pants worn by Sesshoumaru and Inuyasha in the series. AKA: MC Hammer pants
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Chapter Three:
Thin fingers of scarlet, whispers of indigo and the barest blush of pink caressed the sky as the sun made its slow, sleepy descent from the heavens. Amayami silently padded through a charred and blackened landscape, her moon pale fur stained copper by the sunset. Massive, soot blackened paws stepped carefully over razed buildings that jutted from the ground like misplaced teeth in a shattered skull. Balmy breezes bearing the hint of rain ruffled her pale fur and flung stinging dust into her dark water eyes. They narrowed reflexively, massive shoulders hunching as her head lowered.
This place had been her father's last stand, though she dare not say defeat. She had fought valiantly at his side. Blood, which threatened to remain indefinitely, stained her claws as together they mercilessly cut a swath through the enemy legion. Although their losses had been great the tide of battle had tipped in their favor. That is, until a single mishap forever altered her fate.
Secure in her ability, she had pressed onward, unaware her path strayed from her father's. Inexperience proved to be her downfall as she was outflanked and led into a deadly trap. Within moments she had been horridly wounded, her sleek fur gouged by claw, blade, and fang as she was dragged to the earth. Blackness followed her father's outraged, terrified roar. In one terrifying instant he believed his sole child had been slain.
Two weeks later, despite his slew of recent victories, her father offered a formal letter of surrender. Amayami had been furious, bewildered, and righteously indignant. Regardless of her displeasure he maintained a simple truth. The Western Lord would not cease; never yield, not until every member of his great dynasty had been eradicated.
Thus he surrendered, relinquished his title, his land, but never his dignity. All things save one. But it was she who suffered, who sacrificed for that surrender. In that one fell swoop she ceased existing as Amayami heir apparent to the Eastern Lands and became bride to a butcher and eventual mother to his ill begotten spawn. Her youth, freedom and very identity eroded into decay, plucked before flowering. Never would she be content to simply be wife and mother. Such was not a fitting fate for one reared to raise an empire.
Here in this desolate place, the aftermath of that fateful battle, her thoughts swam through the sea of memory. Futilely she sought solace amongst the blood soaked soil and shattered ruins. There was none to be offered. No condolences were granted and no peace for her weary mind. Still, she could not bring herself to despair. Her people, those of East and West, needed her. She was their sovereign, their lady, bound by a duty that came before her personal concerns. Her father had taught her well.
Shame pricked at her for the thousandth time since she had taken leave of the castle. Simultaneously her pride clashed with the shame welling within her heart. She had not been a proper wife, a situation that demanded rectification. Amayami swallowed the bile rising in her throat. She did not wish to allow Touga to touch her. She knew she must and would, but not before he agreed to her terms.
Instinctively she tensed and sniffed the air. Another youkai, one she recognized, was quickly approaching. Amayami rose to her full height, barely half the size she would attain in her lifetime, and trotted to even ground. There her canine form shimmered; fur melted into scarlet silk and pale flesh. Cobalt eyes paled to white blue in a face once feral, as pearlescent hair streamed behind her, flowing to her ankles. She steeled herself for a decidedly unpleasant confrontation. For the moment she was willing to lend ear to her husband's demands.
The wind snagged at her clothing and her long hair as heavy-laden clouds shed their burdens to the shattered ground. Lightning flashed overhead, illuminating the landscape in arcs of silver. Devoid of color, the desolation stood stark against the tremulous horizon. For a too brief instant it was almost pretty. A peal of thunder broke across the shattered field, deafening in its intensity. In its wake, as if a manifestation of the weeping heavens, Touga stood in all his rain-drenched glory.
If his sudden appearance unnerved her, she gave no indication. Instead she remained impassive, statue still, as the rain beat mercilessly upon her willowy frame. Moments ticked by almost tangibly as neither spoke. His jaw clenched, teeth clashing together almost audibly as a chaotic array of emotions pelted him. Bewilderment, relief, and anger slashed through him, biting at his pride; he was torn between ascertaining her well being and throttling her.
"Amayami," he addressed curtly. He rubbed one hand against his temple; the other he extended to her. "Let us return home."
Her dainty brow crept up marginally as she stared at the outstretched hand. Surely he did not believe she would return simply because he bade her? Amayami brushed past him silently. She strode toward the skeleton of a burnt hut, uncaring if he followed or not. Ducking her head, she entered, finding its tattered roof ample enough to slow the driving rain. Lowering her eyes to slits, she leaned against the driest wall. A moment passed before the shuffle of heavy footsteps echoed in her ears.
"I presume by your presence you have considered my request."
Her tone was firm but pleasant, spoken marginally lower than her usual timbre. Touga considered for a moment as he busied himself with brushing the moisture from his cheeks. He spared her a hard look as he idly wrung the raindrops from the pelts flowing down his back. "I have."
Task complete, he paused, assessing her reaction. Vague curiosity tugged at the corners of her eyes, but otherwise her expression was calm, slightly amused, and otherwise unreadable. There was an expectant 'and' in the air, though neither would give it voice.
His heart insisted she was too young, that she had been understandably overwhelmed. Perhaps the fault lay within him, for he had been unreasonably demanding too quickly. Resentment pitted in his stomach as he ruthlessly brushed those feelings aside. Until Amayami, no one had dared deny him. She was his wife, his property, and therefore had no right. He took a single half-step forward, prompting her to push herself from the wall.
He brushed the back of his fingertips along her cheek, tracing the twin stripes there, and then gently delved his fingers in her hair. Slender clawed hands, still slightly blackened from soot, pressed preventively against his armored chest. His hand tangled into her hair as his lips brushed chastely against hers. She stiffened; a protest died on her lips. Then, without warning, he fisted his hand in her long hair and twisted as he pulled her forward.
"You will rut with me this evening."
Amayami blinked. For a moment she looked as surprised as he had ever seen her. Then the surprise faded, replaced by blazing eyes smoldering in a stony visage. He twisted her hair tighter, harsh enough that any other person, male or female, would have cried out.
"I could have taken you the moment that damnable treaty was signed," he hissed into her impassive face. Ruthlessly he twisted its silken length of her hair, demanding she acquiesce.
A sigh escaped Amayami's lips and her expression grew bored. As predicted, their little tête-à-tête had taken a most unpleasant turn. She half listened to his tirade, her anger escalating with every twist of her lovely tresses and every demand he bellowed into her pale face. She withdrew further, her visage a porcelain mask, refusing to grant him the satisfaction he craved. His threats meant little, his ultimatums even less. Patience exhausted, she elegantly flicked her wrist.
"I am lord and you will-"
Glowing claws lashed out lazily toward the side of his face. Touga's hand shot out instinctively, grasping her wrist in a crushing grip. He jerked her hand forward, level with his gaze. His reaction proved to be his undoing, for poison she had meant to direct elsewhere erupted from her needle-sharp talons. In his surprise he gasped, a silent hiss of air, inhaling the deadly fumes of a corrosive poison. His chest burned as violent coughs wracked his body. Blood and tissue spewed past cracked and bleeding lips. He was drowning, literally choking on his blood. He flung her from him, pawing at his face as a wounded beast would.
Amayami stumbled back with a curse. A thread of guilt wove through her before it was ruthlessly crushed. He had no right to manhandle or disrespect her as he had. It had not been her intention to kill or even wound, merely to exhibit that she too was a power with which to be reckoned. However, she had been careless. Touga would have been instantly slain had he been a lesser youkai, and even as it were, the pain was horrible.
He glared at her blindly, blood and ichor leaking from torn eyelids like incardinine tears. He, who in a long, bloody lifetime had suffered innumerable injuries, found than none matched these in their excruciating sting. Had he been alone, he would have gouged out the damaged tissue, rending it from bone. At least that agony would have been by his hand.
He blinked hard, excess poison leaking from the corners of his eyes. It dribbled down his cheeks, melting the tanned flesh as if it were beeswax. Golden eyes opened slowly, their molten depths rimmed with blazing scarlet. Carmine flowed over gold as he silently drew his sword.
He lunged for her, lightning reflecting off his sword as its razor edge sang through the air. Half-blind and slowed by the venom, he missed her, though just narrowly. Amayami leapt back and drew her sword in one fluid motion. She blocked his second attack easily, the power of his strike vibrating down the length of her arm. He meant to kill her.
There was no doubt in her power, but it was one barely bosomed. Adolescent that she was, she was sorely outmatched when compared to Touga with his matured power and battle hardened experience. His wounds, however, granted her a marginal advantage. Even as it was, she would be hard pressed to defeat him. If she were to be slain, then at the very least she would speak her peace.
"I have come to an epiphany."
Her tone was calm, a complete contrast to the vicious upward slash that followed. Touga snorted as he parried the blow, their weapons locking together in terrible clatter of steel. He slashed at her violently, forcing her to take up the defensive. Her blade sailed unexpectedly through the air at an incredible speed. He sidestepped, unwilling to give much credence to what he knew was a less skilled opponent. He remained wary, though, for many a powerful being had been felled by decidedly weaker adversaries.
Holding his blade in a single-handed grip, he slashed at Amayami, who barely managed to parry the blow. She snarled at the blade vibrating inches from her face. Amayami leapt back, but not quickly enough. Touga's free hand shot out, catching her by the throat. He gripped her throat, his claws digging into the tender flesh, her blood oozing over his claws. He lifted her up, her booted feet dangling inches from the floor. Her sword fell to the ground with a clatter as her hands grasped the hand choking her, her claws sinking bone deep into his leather clad wrists.
She writhed and bucked in his hold, her hands clawing desperately at the vice-like grip at her throat. He shook her like an insolent pup and then angrily flung her to the hut's broken floor. Then, decorum abandoned, he viciously kicked her.
Despite her determination, a pained whimper wrung itself from her throat as the air was forced from her lungs. Pain lanced through her side as she took a desperate breath. Her chest felt pinched, her lungs burned and her vision grew spotty. It was difficult to breathe. If her ribs were not broken they were, at the very least, bruised. She staggered to her feet, sword held loosely in one hand. Touga struck her again, a vicious backhand that sent her scuttling across the broken floor to land in a less than elegant heap on the sodden ground.
Rain flowed in torrents off the thatched roof, forming a miniature veil of water between them. Touga paused before the flood, his sword poised and ready. If he felt remorse for striking her, he gave no indication. "Are you prepared to be reasonable?"
Cold, cruel laughter rattled from her throat as she lurched to her feet. Despite her injuries, filth-soaked clothes and matted hair, she miraculously retained the steely composure that made her utterly enticing. Ignoring a stab of pain, she wiped the back of her hand against her mouth. She was slightly startled to see a smear of crimson. A tremor ran through her as she slid, automatically, into a defensive stance. The battle had ceased too quickly for either to be satisfied.
"Inu no taishou," she sneered, the honorific title a curse. "You have, beyond the shadow of a doubt, confirmed the validity of my conjecture."
Touga bit back a grimace as he once again swallowed his anger. It seemed her impudence knew no bounds. He had won the battle, but as he gazed in eyes smug with satisfaction, his assessment wavered. Shame bit at him mercilessly.
Long had he professed to be a reasonable man, and reasonable men did not beat their wives. Furthermore, he was no mere man, but a daiyoukai, and thus such lapses were inexcusable. Eyeing her critically, he slowly lowered his blade.
"Explain."
An eyebrow rose slightly from its elegant arch as she hmphed. She sighed, eyes hardening. "Despite all your great power you are and shall forever remain pathetically ordinary."
"Ordinary," he drew out slowly as he sheathed his sword. Damage dealt by his claws was easier to control. It was her acknowledgement of his dominance he sought, not her demise.
"Pathetically so," Amayami acceded dryly. "This," she gestured to the desolation, "this is the extent of your power. One who conquers what he has not earned and destroys what he cannot seize shall never know true strength."
Touga digested her words, words that despite their inherent insult were carefully measured, and on the outskirts of her usual succinctness. He considered them, rolled them around in his mind until he came to his conclusion. "It is the way of things, Amayami."
Gingerly his hand touched his still wounded face. His eyes felt sticky as if covered in cobwebs, their lids swollen and heavy, and fluid, though greatly stanched, continued to leak from melted tissues. His nose and throat itched painfully, the damaged tissue yearning to become whole once more. His still blurred vision had begun to clear, though not rapidly.
Her toxin was potent, more so than any he had encountered. Had she truly intended him harm, his injuries would have been far more severe. In fact, he was uncertain he would have survived. It was that realization that stayed his hand. He watched her as he passed through the tiny waterfall.
"I have read the reports and heard rumors of your exploits during the war," he began thoughtfully, his tone mocking. "You have decimated entire armies. You have routed troops and slaughtered them as they fled." He stared long at her, frowning at the mottled bruise that marred one alabaster cheek. Shadows clung beneath eyes peering from a face far too pale. He had injured her worse than either cared to admit. "You cannot claim to be innocent."
"I do not," she conceded. "However," she continued wryly. Blood, sticky and warm, seeped from where his claws had scored her throat. The wounds were not large, but they were deep and surrounded by growing bruises. They were superficial for one of her power; already she could feel the bleeding slowing to a trickle.
Her ribs however, were more worrisome. Her side felt spongy, her lungs burned, and her ribs cracked in protest with every breath she took. Were it not for her hard-earned discipline it was doubtful she could have remained standing. Her lips thinned, her eyes closed briefly, but there was not a hint of weakness when she finished her statement. "We are not discussing my deeds. We are discussing yours."
If Touga had been even a fraction less dignified, he would have rolled his eyes. Her words were an exact echo of those she had spoken this morning, before he had kissed her, held her lithe body against his as she returned his ardor with her own. The passion had been short lived, for she had bolted and eluded him for the majority of the day. Then he'd found her, scented her, only because she'd allowed him. Now, as the sun fully descended from the sky, they stood beaten, battered, and bloody, and ironically repeating the partial conversation that led them down this path in the first place.
As the rains fell icy and unforgiving, Touga prayed this was not some portent of events to come. Eternity would linger if he were bound to a woman who loathed him.
"I agree," Amayami murmured as she sheathed her sword. Her voice was weary, slightly pained as if the threads of her control were unraveling. Touga frowned and pursed his lips, confused by the sudden concurrence.
She exhaled, ignored the sharp pain in her chest, and swallowed. Amayami was no fool. Touga for all intents and purposes was a wise choice for mate. He had power, wealth, and prestige, all of which, coupled with her own, would be bequeathed to their children. Although considering Touga's bloodthirsty and warmongering nature, she found it more probable her fate would be that of a young widow.
"Once the concubines are dismissed," she began evenly, ignoring her husband's annoyed growl, "I will perform my conjugal duties, but until such time you shall not touch me."
Touga frowned forbiddingly. "It is your duty to grant me an heir."
Amayami smiled as one would at a small child. "Most certainly," she agreed with a small nod. " Which is why they must be dismissed." Not granting him the chance to retort, she explained: "It will likely be many years before I conceive, in which time-" she paused to weigh her words- "an accident could occur."
"It would not be considered an heir," he insisted, still bewildered as to why she was so adamantly against his concubines.
"No," she dryly acceded. "None of your concubines are powerful enough to produce one worthy-"
"And you are?" he snapped, though he already knew the answer.
"You know I am," she retorted, an indisputable statement of fact. "Can you honestly state you would deny your own child even if fostered from dubious origin?" The heavy, uncertain silence was the only answer she required. Her tone grew dark. "I shall allow nothing, no one, to jeopardize the legacy of our children."
Having spoken more words than she had during their entire marriage thus far, Amayami fell into silence. Touga too remained silent as he digested her carefully measured words. He was uncertain of his reaction. On one hand he was furious she had dared make demands on a matter he'd decided was settled. However, by the same token, he was pleased that she had the foresight to consider the ramifications of what seemed to be their biggest dilemma. Beyond that was the realization, by her own admission, that she had accepted him as the father of her children.
Still, it would not do to be the first to yield.
"I shall take your-" his tone dropped- "inadequacy into consideration."
Amayami snorted, outwardly unperturbed by his barb. Certainly she could not be faulted for being young. Yet inexplicably it stung. "I trust that you will."
Without further word she ascended to the air. Her flight was steady, though it lacked her usual grace. He watched until she was swallowed by darkness. His eyes scanned the battlefield, the desolate rocks and charred, shattered buildings. It had been a thriving human village once, one paramount to the enemy's supply lines. He had crushed it without mercy, without regret, and would do so again should the need arise.
Lightning illuminated the land in bands of silver as thunder echoed in its wake. It was early in the year for such storms. He lingered for a moment, lost in thought.
Arguing with Amayami was an exercise in frustration. The more she resisted, and the greater her obstinacy, the more he desired her. She was that which was within his grasp but always unobtainable. He could beat her, kill her, but he would never conquer her. He strode from the battlefield, his lips quirked into a humorless smile. Perhaps this marriage was fate's subtle form of irony.
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It was not until true darkness had fallen that he finally arrived at his castle. The rain had ceased, leaving the air humid and the sky silver pricked velvet. The guards stood at attention as he wordlessly strode through the gate. They greeted him crisply and with the respect that was to be expected. He paid neither them nor any of the servants heed. Agitation oozed from his being as he stalked across the courtyard. He paused at the gate, which led to the section of the castle reserved for family.
His broad shoulders fell forward as he allowed himself to press his forehead against the weathered wood. After a moment, his face slackened, his neck lolled to the side, and an exasperated sigh escaped his lips. She was going to be the death of him.
Ironically, he needed her far greater than she needed him, if she even needed him at all. It was frighteningly apparent the Eastern annexation would not go as smoothly as he had hoped. The Eastern Lord, Amayami's father, had been too loved and he too loathed. His atrocities, and not the promised prosperity, preceded him. An uprising, if not full-scale civil war, was highly inevitable.
With his legions exhausted, his ranks depleted and his resources plundered, another conflict could well prove disastrous. Pacification, until such time that he regained strength, was his only option. Which brought him to the most valuable resource at his disposal. His wife.
Amayami, with her cold and insolent façade, had managed to become as loved as her father. Her people respected her, held her in the highest regard, and looked to her for guidance during these chaotic times. Perhaps wisely, for she was brilliant, powerful, and, in accordance with the treaty, had military and political might equal to his. He began lightly thumping his forehead against the wooden gate. Matters were supposed to be less difficult after the armistice. Now a war fought with words, rather than blades, was being waged in his household.
Absentmindedly his fingers touched his still scoured cheek. He had expected her to be insipid, to faint and swoon at the threat of his displeasure. He had never expected her to grant him reason to feel weak.
"You are in my way."
Touga straightened immediately, slightly annoyed by the flat tone. He turned in a swirl of fur and silk. Tenaciously he crossed his arms over his chest. He frowned forbiddingly. "Where have you been?"
Amayami sighed heavily, ignoring the shooting pain erupting in her chest from the trivial exertion. "I am exhausted and have no desire to deal with you further."
She took a single step forward, annoyance coloring her features for he remained unmoving. Glaring silently at each other, they continued their standoff, neither willing to yield to the other. Thunder rumbled as rain once again began to tumble freely from the night sky.
She stared icily into his fiery eyes. It was pointless to argue a matter that was closed. She would not yield to him or he to her. It was an impossible situation, made worse by the legalities that bound them. A humorless smile curled at her thin lips.
"Am I not worthy a single favor?" Her voice was soft, almost lost in the driving rain. "You constantly insist I am your wife, as if I was some addled fool in need of a reminder." Her tone grew sharp. "Yet, it is you who steadfastly refuses to be my husband!"
Her words ended in a hiss, her face pale with barely contained rage. She turned, intent on flight. He reached out, claws piercing through the expensive uchikake he had carelessly ripped during their earlier scuffle.
Bewilderment filled him, although he remained astute enough to realize the nature of her outburst. "Amayami…"
It was soft, gentle, nowhere near his usual gruff tones. He nuzzled his face at her neck. Gingerly he kissed a barely sealed wound at her throat. Fury wove through him at the hint of blood mingling with the rain and the sweet taste of her flesh. It was he who harmed her, but it was she who drove him to the brink of madness.
She made a tiny, almost inaudible hurt sound as he coiled his arms around her. Touga turned gently, careful not to jar her as he delicately prodded the side in which he had kicked her. Her ribs were bruised if not broken. For one of her power such injuries were inconsequential. However, concern and perhaps a healthy dose of guilt suggested a course of prudence rather than grandeur.
His hand slid down her shoulders to splay gently at the small of her back. He coaxed her forward, his free arm encircling her thin waist. "We shall speak as your injuries are tended to."
Amayami snorted. She jerked away brusquely and brushed past him. She pushed the gate open slowly, its well-oiled hinges groaning in protest. She paused to glance dispassionately at him over her shoulder. A moment passed almost tangibly. Neither moved, nor spoke, the distant rumble of thunder the only sound in the thickening silence. She sighed, eyes fluttered shut, her lips quirking into a dispassionate smile. "Enjoy your concubines."
With expedience belying her injuries, she made her way to her bedchamber. Silently she slid open the door as she loosened the ties on her ruined uchikake. Not bothering to remove her shoes, she all but collapsed on her futon. Amayami flung one arm over her eyes; the other she braced against her wounded side. Already she could feel the bones quivering, their shattered ends trembling to become whole once more.
Her eyes prickled, stinging with the tears she would not shed. She missed her father and her cousins that were almost siblings. They had understood her need for seclusion, her long silences, and her introspective manner. In the Western hold there were too many servants pawing at her, too many dignitaries demanding her attention. It would be better had she not had a husband to remind her of her failings at every turn. He cared nothing for her, other than that she was not warming his bed.
Amayami shifted slightly, grimacing at the new pang in her chest.
"It would be less painful if you were to sit up."
"Perhaps," she acknowledged behind covered eyes. Her expression remained passive, though inwardly she cursed her partially undressed state.
The futon shifted as Touga's heavy weight settled beside her. He said nothing as he removed her muddied boots and tossed them nonchalantly into the far corner. Cool air caressed her skin as he parted her uchikake as well as the layers of her under kimono. She remained passive, refusing to grant him the satisfaction of a reaction.
Amayami felt her futon shift again as Touga rose and covered her with a blanket. The adjoining door slid open with a whoosh, announcing his departure
She had just fallen into the teetering of sleep when the futon shifted once more. Strong arms slid beneath her, lifting her; her arms wound instinctively around his neck. She leaned into his broad chest, too exhausted to protest. Perhaps it was exhaustion, or pain, or the fact that he was her husband, that caused her not to protest as he completely undressed her.
She inhaled, held, as he wound yards of bandages around her bruised and battered ribcage. He completed his task in silence, not speaking until he, at last, tied off the end of the bandage. "Perhaps you are correct."
A quizzical expression flowed over her aloof countenance. He sighed as he propped her up on pillows. "Perhaps my skills as a husband could be improved." Amayami arched a sardonic brow but said nothing. It was, in her opinion, a gross understatement.
An unwelcome sense of vulnerability sidled into her resolve, as she lay injured and exposed. Sensing her discomfort, or perhaps to sooth his own, he pulled the blanket to her chin.
"But I cannot be a proper husband if I do not have proper wife."
Amayami hmphed and lifted her chin haughtily. "Then it seems we are at an impasse."
He nodded slightly before brushing his lips against her temple. "Get some rest," he ordered as he rose swiftly. "Our day begins at dawn."
Amayami fisted the blankets to her chest and watched him disappear into his room. The compulsion to flee welled strong within her, but was crushed ruthlessly. She would not run from her duty or her fate. She would be the sovereign her father bade her to become. Neither her upbringing nor her very nature would permit her to be weak.