CHAPTER 15: MEET ME AT MIDNIGHT

"Meet me at midnight in
The forest of my dreams.
We'll make a fire and
Count the stars that
Shimmer in the trees."
(Christy Ann Martine)

Though there was endless potential for the carriage ride to be awkward, full of silences heavy with hidden meaning and anticipation. It could have been full of side-eyed glances, swiftly turned heads before meeting each other's eyes. There could have been accidental touches and pulled back hands, apologies stammered from either pair of lips.

There could have been all of those things, but there was none of them.

As soon as they had settled, and Ah-Un took off, following some order and some path that she had not heard or seen, Sesshomaru asked her to explain that theory of evolution that he had seen her studying the other day. Immediately, the mood in the carriage lightened, and Kagome broke into a lively discussion about scientific evidence linking species together, and about how prehistoric beasts had descendants alive even today. The discussion was light and even-sided. Sesshomaru asking questions about this creature or that, and how one could even begin to prove such a thing.

Kagome could never have hoped to carry on such an intelligent conversation with almost anyone from the Feudal Era. Miroku was probably one of the most schooled people she had met her, not counting healers and midwifes and their knowledge of herbs and medicine. Schooling was simply too much of a luxury for people in the time. At home, talking of homework and assignments with her friends or her family had always seemed tedious and boring, like a chore. It had been so long since she'd had a conversation where intelligence was a factor that she'd forgotten that she had once enjoyed learning. Before school had sucked all the fun completely out of it. Sesshomaru brought it all back to her.

So invested in the dialogue, was she, that the hours passed by unnoticed. She did not even notice their descent, and when the carriage lit back on solid earth with a teeth rattling rumble, it able sent her tumbling from her seat in surprise. Only a hand on her shoulder saved her the embarrassment.

She looked up slowly, and Sesshomaru arched a brow at her. He was leaning across the space between their two seats, a hand the only thing keeping her from falling. Irrationally, she felt that she could feel the heat from his palm through her shirt, leaving a brand against her skin. "Th- thank you."

He nods, and his eyes mercifully leave hers when the door to the carriage is wrenched open with a welcoming cry of his name.

"Lord Sesshomaru! As I leave and breathe! I thought I recognized that two-headed beast, but since you've always told me my parties were… what was it? Frivolous displays of extravagance fit for a child's name day celebration?"

Sesshomaru's answer is deadpan. "Something like that."

Kagome giggles and the demon turns to her in delight. "And who is this beautiful creature?" There's a long, sweeping look as he takes in her strange apparel, but he makes no comment. He just reaches out to take her hand, helping her down the wrought iron steps of the carriage like a gentleman. Out in the sunlight, she can see her flickering fox ears and lashing tail more clearly.

"I'm Kagome, my lord."

"No need for that my lord nonsense, I'm nothing of the sort. Merely an advisor to great lords like the one you've traveled here with, my lady."

"Oh, I'm no lady!"

His golden eyes are watching her intently. "Perhaps that was merely a glimpse of the future then, beautiful Kagome."

There's a creak of steps as Sesshomaru vacates the carriage. "That will be quite enough, Tetsu." Kagome's eyes widened. "If you could perhaps cease your festivities for long enough to have someone show myself, my lady, and our bags to our rooms? I have no doubt your ball starts in a few short hours, and we shall require time to ready ourselves."

There's no time for her dwell on the my lady part of his statement before the ending catches up to her and she blanches. She has no idea how to get ready for a ball. And she still doesn't know what she's wearing.

"Of course, my lord! I will see to it immediately! And I shall send a pair of my mate's ladies maids to help your lovely lady dress."

The two maids are the most adorable girls Kagome has ever seen. They're identical down to the last freckle spread like dark stars across their porcelain cheeks. Their eyes are warm and brown and bright, with mirroring expressions of delight shining through them. Flapping atop their brunette bob haircuts are floppy bunny ears.

Kagome immediately loves them.

"Hello missus!" They say in tandem. "We're Aya and Aki!" They're still speaking in unison, so she's isn't sure how she's supposed to tell who is who. "And we're here to help you!" Identical curtsies .

"O- okay…"

They grin at her delightedly, before each grabbing one of her hands and dragging her towards the bathing chamber Kagome can just make out through the opening on one wall of her room. "Then let's go!"

For many of the long minutes he dressed himself in one of Tetsu's spacious guest quarters, he pretended that he felt the harsh press of nerves around his throat because it would be his first time in the presence of others in many months. Many courtiers still did not know why he had withdrawn so completely from their circle, just assuming he was being more aloof than normal. He had purposefully timed their arrival so that their chance of seeing other guests was nil. He could attend the party in a mask covering the burned and scarred portion of his face and those that did not already know would remain none the wiser. He abhorred the thoughts of their questions, their inquisitive eyes.

But he knew the real reason for his nerves was none of those things. It was not that he was attending a ball. It was that he was attending a ball with Kagome. He had never been nervous around women before, but he had never known a woman like Kagome before. Other women saw him as a means to an end: become Lady of the Western Lands. There was little he could do to scare them away. They only saw a title and nothing more.

Kagome saw him as just himself. There were no titles when she looked at him, no taiyoukai or great lord. He was merely, honestly and truly, only Sesshomaru. The fact that she seemed to take delight in his companionship meant more to him than any seat in Japan. Even as guests begin to enter and surprised greetings are called out as others recognize him, his mind is far away. He wonders if she will enjoy the ball. He wonders if she will be pleased with the kimono that he chose for her. He wonders if his own ensemble, pristine white hakama and a blank kimono pattered with a crescent moon half hidden behind the clouds, will please her. He wonders if she will like that his face is half covered with a plain white mask that fits against his skin like a sigh, or she will miss his open features.

A noise from the top of the stairs draws his attention up from the foyer where he's been loitering and he glances up.

His heart trips and staggers against his chest like a waterfall.

Kagome is a vision at the top of the stairs. The kimono he chose for her, all translucent silver with a twining of inu youkai spiraling up and around her hips, is as stunning on her as he had imagined it would be. The shoulders are low, revealing creamy, unblemished shoulders to his traveling gaze. Her mask was delicate black lace around her eyes, making the blue seem unnaturally bright and inviting. Those inky tresses are swept away from her throat in a messy trail of curls and golden flowers down her back. Mercifully, Tetsu's handmaidens were more intelligent than most, and had only highlighted her natural beauty with a few scant touches of makeup.

There was nothing more becoming than the gentle blush across her cheeks as she descended the stairs and stood before him. Her eyes, lined with dark kohl, shine like blue lamps as they take him in.

"You look lovely," he said, voice low and smooth, earnest.

"You, too." Her blush intensifies. "I mean – "

A deep chuckle cuts her off. "Why thank you, my lady." He holds out an arm to her. "Shall we?" She places her hand delicately on his arm, but with no hesitation, and her touch scalds him through his sleeve.

They follow the throng of people still walking towards the ballroom. Sesshomaru finds that he cannot force himself to look away from her face, fascinated by the emotions that scurry across her features at ever new site she encounters. Handsome demons with lashing lion tails or great folded wings or flashing snake eyes. Beautiful demoness' with scales disappearing under the collar of their robes or who left flowers wherever they walked. He only knew they entered the ballroom when her eyes widened like saucers.

"Oh, wow."

At the awe in her voice, he turned to glance around the room, and saw that Tetsu had outdone himself. Kitsune fire glowed from lanterns, casting shadows in blue and red and gold. A great, flowering dogwood tree dominated the center of the room. Sesshomaru could not even say if that was a permanent feature of if he had had it engineered somehow for his party, but either way the result was striking. Lights twinkled in the branches. Every corner of the room was filled with demons decked out in their finest. While he might have expected Kagome to seem out of place as the only human here, she barely looked as if she noticed, looking around and oh-ing and ah-ing over dresses and hairstyles with excitement.

His heart warmed at the sight.

Clearing his throat, he drew her attention. "Shall we dance?"

He cannot miss the way her face blanches. "Um… no. No, no, no. That would be so, so bad."

Pausing, he turns so they are facing one another, heedless of the throng of others parting around like a river around a stone. "Explain."

"I… I…" She looks around, grasping for something to draw his attention away, no doubt, but, finding nothing, slumps in defeat. Her voice is quiet as she answer. "I can't dance."

His brow furrows. "Your mother saw you educated, but did not see fit to teach you courtly etiquette?"

She shrugs and, for a moment, his eye is drawn to the motion of pale skin moving within his view. "It wasn't as important to her as other knowledge."

He supposed he could understand that. But there was one thing he did not understand. "Why would you wish to attend a ball if you knew you would not know the dances?"

"Um… well, I always wanted to go to one. And… and…" The blush blossomed on her face again under his eyes, making him intrigued to hear the rest of her sentence. When she glances up at him from under her dark lashes, he cannot breathe. "And I wanted to see you dressed up…"

The smile tugs at his mouth before he is conscious of it. Luckily, for the moment, he is oblivious to the heated whispered and shifty-eyed stares being sent in their direction. Who is that girl with Lord Sesshomaru? All he knows is that, in that moment, he is grateful to Rin for forcing his hand and making him invite her to this. He tugs her forward again, ignoring her startled yelp. "One cannot attend a ball without dancing. You must simply follow this Sesshomaru's lead. I shall not lead you astray."

"Okay."

She lets him tug her along onto the dance floor, too nervous about the prospect of dancing a fancy ballroom dance to notice that so many demoness' are sending her scathing, venomous looks. Her nerves don't dissipate when he turns and faces her on the edge of the dance floor. It's possible he says something about this being an easy dance, nothing but twirling to the music, but he reached out to tug her wrist forward, placing it on his waist, mirroring the motion with his own hand.

"Your other hand on my neck," he murmurs softly. She complies without speaking, not sure she even can in that moment. "Now, follow my lead."

Before she even has time to organize her thoughts, to think on the music and find the pace, he nudges her forward with the lightest pressure on her hip and, before she knows it…

… they are dancing.

It is more like flying that anything else, as they twirl around the floor. Rin would saw they remind her of a prince and princess from one of the stories Kagome is so fond of telling her. Beauty and the Beast. Sleeping Beauty. And it is like that – the lights, the clothes, the royalty, the castle. It is all so much more than she could ever have imagined.

And then there is the feel, even through her clothing, of his hand on her hip. It never wavers, or strays somewhere inappropriate, but she feels it all the same, like a brand on her skin. She can feel where his fingers twitch against her hip bone to turn her in the perfect direction in time with the music. Under her own hands is just as worse. She can feel the muscles of his stomach under her thumb. On a turn, her hands slips off his collar and brushes against the soft skin of his neck. When she looks up to see if he notices, his pupil is blown wide, the gold a mere ring in the endless dark. When his fingers spasm and hold her hip in a tighter grip, she gasps, her hand hands clench, fisting in cloth, nails dragging lightly against skin.

His eye slams shut at the motion, though he never misses a step. "Kagome…" His name from her lips is a rumble, full of intentions she cannot name, promises she does not know. He looks so impossibly beautiful in his regal clothing, with his moonlight hair streaming around his shoulders like falling snow.

"I – " When his eye cracks open, words fail her. She licks her lips and he follows the movement with a predator's intensity. "I need a drink."

The intensity in his eye does not fade as he nods and leads her expertly from the floor. They are almost at the table of refreshments, when a sultry voice calls out his name.

"Lord Sesshomaru, what a pleasant surprise!"

The bottom falls out of his stomach as he recognizes the voice one of the only people on earth he would not have expected to see her. But manners dictate he turn and great her accordingly. "And what a surprise to see you here are well, Lady Akira." He nods to her once. "It is lady, is it not?"

"Not thanks to you my lord, but yes." He feels Kagome's questioning eyes, but does not introduce her. "I mated a lord from the east, who saw something of my true self in my pauper's robes." Her eyes, as green as absinthe, as green as poison, turn to Kagome as if just suddenly noticing her existence. "And who is this you have brought with you, my lord? A human girl?"

"Kagome. And a miko, if you please." Sesshomaru feels pride swell in him at Kagome's steady answer, her chin tipped up defiantly. "And you are?"

Akira holds out a hand as she introduces herself and Sesshomaru goes rigid as Kagome reaches out to take it, remembering the last time those hands had touched his skin. There is no reason for Akira to reach out in such a human gesture and he knows that if one single drop of her poison touches Kagome's skin, he will kill her. "Lady Akira. I was once almost Lady of the Western Lands, if you can believe it."

"You certainly are very beautiful."

Not near so beautiful as you.

Akira gives a tinkling laugh that is supposed to sound feminine, but sounds instead like breaking glass. Heads turn in their direction. "I was the most beautiful of his paramours, that is true. Though there were so very many of us, it is hard to keep track sometimes. Isn't that right, my lord?"

His answer comes through gritted teeth. "Indeed."

"As you could only have someone both beautiful and courtly at your side, I was dismissed the moment my dear papa lost our fortune." She pouted. "So unkind to dismiss me as you did, but understandable. And I of course, forgive you."

"Fantastic."

Kagome is watching them speak, head moving back and forth between them, and he dearly wants this conversation to end before Akira says something unredeemable to Kagome that can never be taken back.

"The mask was a wise choice, Lord Sesshomaru," Akira is continuing. "It makes you look almost as handsome as you did before your face was melted like candle wax." Her laugh is high and throaty. "It is a shame this was not an All Hallow's Eve ball – you would have been perfect."

He stills, his heart clenching in his chest as Akira laughs and voices aloud the very security he wishes to never think of in front of Kagome. He cannot look at her, does not want to see what she thinks of that, or if she agrees –

"It was lovely meeting you, Mrs. Akira, but Sesshomaru has promised me the next dance and I would hate to miss it."

His wrist is grasped in a bruising grip and tugged until his feet begin to follow the pull. He cannot think, does not pay attention to where she is dragging him, past dancers and guests, through the doorway, out onto a balcony into the cool night air.

"Are you alright?"

He blinks, the question piercing through the fog in his mind, and looks down to see Kagome peering up at him. Her eyes are narrowed with concern as she waits for his response. There is something in her voice that stops him from making a flippant response, because it is a question he is not asked often. She is not asking about anything more than if he is alright? She is honestly concerned about him, about him…

"I…"

"Sesshomaru?" Her voice is soft. He doesn't know if she notices when the grasp on her wrist twists and her fingers are intertwined with his. "Are you – "

He loses all reason.

He does not ask, does not look to see if Akira followed them, or if there are others on the balcony. The feel of her fingers mingling with his, the look in her bright eyes as she stares up at him, unafraid and worried about him, undoes him. It is nothing to tug her forward and to slant his mouth down against hers.

Soft. Heat. Yes.

A groan starts in his chest and when it rumbles up his throat he cannot stop it. It is too much, the feel of her soft mouth against his, the press of her breasts through her clothes against his chest, her hand holding his in a white-knuckled grip. Her free hand has flown up to steady herself and curls around his neck. He remembers the feel of her nails against his skin and wants to purr with pleasure at the memory. A primal part of him does not want to pull away, but the lord is still there at the forefront of his mind and he knows he should pull back, explain himself.

But then her mouth opens under his as she sighs and she melts into him. And then reason is gone.

Her mouth is as hot as fire when he sweeps his tongue inside. She mewls against his lips and it makes him think of bedposts and twisted sheets, intertwining lets and sweat-soaked skin. He wrenches his mouth away from her forcibly, knowing he should stop. He makes the mistake of looking at her and her eyes are hazy with pleasure, her cheeks flushed with desire, her mouth bruised from his kisses.

Kami save him, she would be the death of him.

He pulls her forward, presses his lips to his harshly, just lips on lips, before pulling away. She moans just low enough that he can hear her and it almost makes him press her against a wall, there on the balcony, party guests be damned. But he forces himself to not lean in closer, to keep tugging her forward, back inside, towards the stairs. Every so often a partygoer will pass them in the hall and the pair of them will stand side by side, faces as blank and breathing as steady as they can manage. But in the few brief moments then they are alone, he pushes her against the nearest wall, leans into her, lets his hand roam impatiently across her shoulders, the side of her breast, her tapered waist. Her own hands clutch at his shoulders, her breath ragged, her limbs shaking.

When they are finally at his door and he opens it with one suddenly trembling hand, he pulls back long enough to stare at her, a question in his eyes. His breath is still and static in his lungs as he waits for her answer. When she takes a step into his room, the air rattles out of him in a whoosh, all the tension leaving his body in a single rush. Secure now in the knowledge that she wants this, too, he is slower now, stepping inside and closing the door behind them with a soft click.

She looks so hesitant standing there, playing with the edge of her sleeve, that he reaches forward and brushes a strand of hair behind her ears. "We need not do anything that you do not wish."

Her soft smile is tremulous, but much of the tautness in her shoulders disappears. Her eyes meet his with unwavering intensity. "Why are you doing this?" Her voice is soft.

There are many ways that he could answer, but she deserves an honest one, so he pauses, head cocked just slightly to the side as his eye roves across her face. "Because you saw the real and you did not shy away." A part of him does not want to ask, but he has to. "I might ask you the same question."

Since he is not looking into her eyes, he is startled when she suddenly pulls the mask from his face in a gentle movement. His gaze flashes to hers, to find that she is smiling, her eyes gone soft and delicate. "Because I liked what I saw there."

There is no way to describe the ragged groan that is pulled from his chest at her statement. It is part wanting moan, part relieved sob, part possessive growl, all rolled into one. His mask hits the floor with a dull thud that he hears from far away. He is too busy crowding her back to his bed, to tumble her onto his mattress, delighting in the feel of her hands fisting in his hair.

He wants nothing more than to pull the clothing from her body, revealing inch after inch of creamy skin to his hot gaze. He wants to worship her with his mouth, mark her as his for everyone to see. But he remembers that she is young, still unsure, new to this between them, and while nothing would bring him more pleasure than sinking into her and making her see stars, he knows that she needs more time. He can wait.

Softening his kisses until they are butterfly light against her lips, he kisses the corners of her mouth, her cheeks, her eyelids. She sighs against him, the sound contented and languid. When he settles down gingerly on the bed, she immediately curls into his side, her head resting easily on his shoulder. There's something warm and dreamy swirling in his chest that feels a lot like happiness.

Hesitantly, he reaches up with his hand, to trail his fingers through her hair, like he'd been wanting to for days. She murmurs against her, slowly going heavy and lax, until her breathing evens out in sleep. He remains awake for much longer, idly carding her hair, staring down at her in growing wonderment, until he too drifts off to sleep.