Incomplete

- Chapter Twenty-Four -

The miko had been unusually quiet since their return to the palace. Gone was the cheerful, noisy girl who liked to challenge his authority and in her place was a sullen creature whose mood alternated unpredictably between two extremes - silent and pensive and simmering with rage.

He watched her from a close distance, noting the rigid set of her shoulders. If she noticed his presence she made no acknowledgment of it as she lined her body up to take another shot. She'd been practicing all morning, aiming arrow after arrow down the length of the field. Her target was full of holes but from the look on her face she was far from satisfied.

Boredom had drawn him here and simple curiosity made him stay.

He told himself there was no other reason to watch her from afar like he'd been doing since their return, or spend any length of time contemplating the cause for her sudden change in demeanour. There was no other reason for the dreams he'd been having that roused him in the middle of the night, dreams where he didn't make it to her in time.

And there was certainly no reason for him to be standing where he was now beyond assuaging his simple curiosity. Except that her silence bothered him more than her headstrong opinions ever had and his desire to know the reason for it went far beyond mere curiosity.

"I pity your enemy," he commented dryly when she stopped for a brief water break. The look she sent over her shoulder was anything but welcoming.

"What do youwant?"

He ignored her brisk greeting and held out the katana he'd brought with him.

"Care to learn?"

She was driven by two things - her misguided need for independence and her desire to protect those she cared about. If she could learn swordsmanship along with archery she'd be one step closer to being self-reliant on the battlefield. He could practically hear her mind working as she considered the katana in his outstretched hand.

Temptation won out in the end, as he knew it would, and she guardedly accepted the sword from him.

"Why now?" she challenged, giving him a suspicious look.

"You are content to rely on others to fight your battles for you?"

She glowered at him.

"Unsheathe your sword," he instructed and she obeyed silently, tucking the sheath in her quiver.

"Now what?"

"You learn."

He flashed a dangerous smile and unsheathed his own practice katana. The first strike felt painfully slow and she blocked it clumsily, opening her guard to attack in a half dozen places. Suppressing the desires of his inner perfectionist to correct her, he kept silent and delivered a second blow, and then a third.

She adapted to the blows quicker than expected. With minimal instruction she learned how to block and parry his advances. Her footwork was terrible though, as were her grip and stance, but those things would come in time. She showed some potential, at least.

"Why are you doing this?" she demanded breathlessly in-between strikes. Apparently his first answer hadn't sufficed.

"You have no knowledge of close combat manoeuvres. They are a necessary skill for battle," he answered coolly, easily blocking her clumsy attack.

"That's it?"

"You expected something else?"

She stopped abruptly and fixed him with a hard look.

"What if I did?"

Taking advantage of her momentary distraction he thrust his sword towards her, forcing her to dodge out of the way.

"Never lower your sword during a battle," he chided.

She narrowed her eyes at him and took her stance, making herself ready for his next attack.

"You didn't answer my question," she prodded, unwilling to let it go.

It was true, he hadn't, and with good reason. What answer could she possibly expect from him when he didn't have one for himself? There were a dozen possibilities - it was something to alleviate his boredom; she needed to learn how to defend herself; he was training her for war with the Northern Tribes - but none were the truth.

This was the closest he'd been to her since their return. From this distance he could read the expression in her eyes and watch the droplets of sweat curling over her collarbone.

He could touch her if he wished it, slowly trail his claws down the length of her cheek or slip them into her hair.

With each strike he could feel himself drawing closer, being drawn into her, by some invisible force. A vision flashed through his thoughts, one where her body was pressed up against his, curled around him in a compromising position while his tongue sampled the sweat off her neck. She would mewl for him with her eyes half closed in ecstasy as he made her his own...

He pulled back, mentally shaking off the fantasy. The truth was far more dangerous and neither of them was prepared for it. Desperate for a distraction he attacked her from a new angle.

"The hanyou loves you."

His words were barely loud enough to be heard over the scrape of their swords but the implication behind them was clear. She blinked at him in astonishment, momentarily forgetting their fight.

"I know," she answered quietly, her expression awash with confusion and old pain. "In my heart I've known that for a long time, but it doesn't change anything."

He considered her words in silence, willing, for the moment, to let her rest and catch her breath.

"And when the jewel is destroyed?"

She shrugged, "I dunno."

It wasn't the answer he'd been hoping for. She needed to go back to the others of her kind, back to his brother and far from his reach. It was the only way to keep her safe and protect her from what he couldn't.

"You are not safe here."

She tilted her head and gave him a curious look. "What do you mean? Has someone threatened another attack?"

His lips pressed into a frown and his tone turned harsh, "You are a miko living in a demon's court. There will always be threats against your life."

"I feel safe," she argued stubbornly with a glance at her sword.

"Do not make the mistaken assumption that I will always protect you."

Her back straightened and there was fire in her eyes when they met his. She'd returned. The girl he'd grown accustomed to, the same one who challenged his words and felt no fear in questioning his authority looked up at him now with a determined glare. All it'd taken was a lie.

"I've never asked for your help. I can take care of myself."

His eyebrow lifted in a mixture of amusement and surprise at her audacity.

"Is that so?"

He attacked without warning, swinging his sword at her midsection. She reacted on instinct, blocking it just in time. He swung again, this time above her head, and their swords met with a deafening clang.

Her face was pinched with the effort of deflecting his blows but he refused to relent. To her credit she didn't whine or complain. On some level she must have understood what he was trying to teach her and met his attacks with determination rather than defeat. But it wasn't enough. She was only human after all and regardless of her will or desire that one fact would never change.

He pressed forward, forcing her backwards across the uneven ground. The ricochet from a hard overhand strike left her stumbling and she clumsily fell to the ground. He wasted no time disarming her, sending her sword flying with an expert flick of his wrist. She watched it skid across the grass out of arm's reach and then fixed him with an expectant look.

"Do you understand?" he asked, pointing his sword at her chest.

She nodded reluctantly and he pulled back, sheathing the katana at his side. He turned away quickly, tearing his gaze from the tempting view of her prone form.

It was better this way. Nothing good could come from her staying here with him. He only hoped today's lesson had be enough to convince her of the same. The sooner she left the better. As it stood now his resolve was threadbare at best. Even he couldn't be certain how long he could continue to deny himself what he wanted.

It wasn't until he felt the faint spark of spiritual power against his skin that he noticed the arrow. On instinct alone he dodged and it sliced through the empty sleeve of his kimono, narrowly missing his torso. The trail of spiritual power left in its wake crackled painfully against his skin as it dispersed.

He turned on her with a hiss of annoyance and caught the smug smile she was directing at him from across the field.

"It only takes one," she reminded him, looking pleased with herself.

He wasn't conscious of his body moving until he was on top of her with his claws at her throat. She blinked up at him, wide-eyed and speechless, completely thrown off guard by the speed of his movements.

"It only takes one to miss," he hissed, tightening his grip until she nodded in understanding.

Anger was the trigger that brought every one of his baser instincts rising to the surface. With her warm, feminine form beneath him it was all too easy to lose control.

His claws found purchase on the ground beside her head and his nose met the hollow of her throat. He took his time breathing her in, the faint touch of his lips a strange juxtaposition to the hungry press of the rest of his body.

Her breaths were coming quicker now and her breasts gently grazed against his chest with each one. What he wouldn't give to tear open her shirt and nuzzle them, to palm her nubile, young flesh in his claws. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, tempting him further.

"Sesshomaru, I-"

His mouth slipped over hers, silencing whatever words she was about to speak. He didn't care to hear them, not now, not with her body arching into him and her throat uttering quiet moans.

This is exactly what he'd been craving and avoiding - the pull of her scent and the intoxicating taste of her on his lips. He'd recklessly tasted her once and vowed never to do so again but denying himself that one thing had been an excruciating test of willpower. His every sense was full of her and he could feel himself losing whatever carefully crafted control he'd been able to hold on to until now.

Balancing on his knees, he slipped his hand behind her knee and hiked it up around his waist. Her lips were hungry against his and she clawed her hands into the folds of his kimono, eagerly lifting her hips against him. His body grew hard at the insatiable thought of staking his claim on her.

"Sesshomaru..."

She breathed his name, expectation heavy in her words and anxiety too. That faint quiver of panic brought reality sharply back into focus. It was easy to forget sometimes that she was still innocent but she was, and this was neither the time nor the place to change that.

With great effort he removed her hands from his kimono and got to his feet. Her expression was full of confusion and hurt. She couldn't understand why he'd stopped and in many ways he couldn't understand it either, except to know that it was impossible to go down this path without risking her life. And once he did, there was no turning back.

Having little desire to linger and listen to the multitude of troublesome questions that were sure to come his way, he abruptly departed leaving her alone to pick herself up off the ground.