XXXIX.
Mortal Effort
While Kagome was still, staring at the portrait of her mother, Sesshomaru calmed both his instincts and his pride, his thirst for power and the lure of greatness beyond anything his father had ever achieved; it was not so hard. It would be...easy and wrong to gain power through Kagome, who had no idea of her place, no idea of her inheritance...
Daughter of the Lost Princess. Heir of the Dragon Lines. The White Priestess of the West they call her – and other things. But she...she understands none of it. And I – I wish I did not.
He had spent many days seeking out the reasons for Kagome's presence in his life – reasons for her power, her inheritance...reasons for Eldest's interference in what would otherwise have been a simple ceremony. Now that he knew, though...now that he knew, he wanted nothing more than to ignore what he had learned – and that was something he could not do.
I cannot hide from the truth. Others besides my House have kept records of the past. I knew, even without Kagome's confirmation; I could tell, looking at the portrait...there is enough likeness between her and her mother; she has Eldest's eyes, Dragon-eyes, even with the Inu coloring.
It was not, however, a good time to worry about accumulating power or making drastic changes in the political landscape of the youkai world. The presence of darkness poised to conquer had not left him since before the presentation; rather, it had strengthened, growing and changing into a powerful portent of destruction.
But now...now, Sesshomaru tuned his senses carefully to his mate, and scented her distress, her sorrow and surprise tied tightly together.
"Kagome."
Sesshomaru held out a hand to her, and she took it willingly, stepped close to him and relaxed into his embrace. Gradually, he was learning that a touch was the easiest way to comfort her; it was not a simple thing for him, to relax centuries of coldness and personal distance...but she was his mate, and what she needed, he would give.
"This should not hurt you, Kagome, I -"
"Oh, it doesn't...not really. It's just that...I miss my family. My mother...my grandfather...my brother – my friends and the shrine and even stupid school."
Her lip quivered ominously, but Sesshomaru reached out a hand and stilled the trembling with a finger, tilted her head up and soothed her with a kiss.
"Mate. Do not forget – it will take time, but you will see them again."
She drew in a deep breath and smiled for him.
"Yes. Yes. I'm sorry, it's -"
"You are a caring person, mate. I know this; you need not apologize."
He closed the book, and stepped back from the cloud of dust that went up from the covers as they settled together.
This truth he had learned answered not only his own pressing question, but an ancient mystery which had lain unanswered in the records...as well as the question of Kasuka's growing interference. He had wondered what it was that had driven the old enemy of his House into the open; he saw now that it was not only that he had taken a mate, but the mate he had taken that concerned her.
If Kasuka does not know, she certainly must suspect...and as rumor grows, as we are forced to give confirmation, she will only become stronger in her opposition.
No denial on his part would ever be able to prevent it; she would assume that he sought to claim the position of Dragonlord; that he had taken Kagome as his mate solely to claim dominance over her House and bloodline.
As she wished my father to do – and I. Beside her. But only for destruction...and...
Having confirmed his suspicion cleared Sesshomaru's thoughts; if they were challenged now about Kagome's ancestry, he had his answer – an answer Eldest would confirm, an answer that would not shame his mate. He had been afraid that her mother was not her mother – or that they would have to explain some greater mystery, if her parents were truly human.
Content now, and irritated by the stuffy air of this ancient chamber, Sesshomaru took Kagome's hand and led her back down the stairs the way she had come. At the bottom of the stairs, he took a deep breath, glad to be free of the dust – and then turned to Kagome with a face drained of all color.
Here, free of the odors of old leather, breathing deeply because there were no irritants, he could scent the Wolf on her more strongly, but also the myriad scents of the human village. Most intense were the odors of the humans that were here friends – and entwined with one of those scents, a thing he had encountered before.
A thing he feared, not for his sake, but for his...daughter's.
"Kagome – have you seen Rin? Have you been near her since you returned?"
His grip on her wrist became suddenly tight, painful. When she gasped, and did not answer immediately, he shook her and repeated the question.
"Did you go near Rin, Kagome? Did you?"
She stared at him with wide eyes, and shook her head.
"No – no, I went straight up there, looking for you and – Sesshomaru, please! You're hurting me -"
He let go immediately, but his voice was still harsh.
"You must go out to the courtyard and strip; I will have screens set up for you, and water brought. Those robes must be burnt; wash, and I will send out new clothes for you."
And then he looked at her strangely, his gaze piercing and cold and sympathetic.
"I am sorry...about your friend. The woman."
A chill drove straight down Kagome's spine.
"S-Sango? She – she's fine..."
Slowly, he shook his head.
"No, Kagome. I did not notice before – upstairs, where one can barely breathe in the first place. But now I can smell it on you – the village, and the woman, and that terrible sickness. I have encountered it...before."
Kagome drew in a long, strangled breath. She remembered what Miroku and Kaede both had told her – illness and death, the dark specters of this age. She remembered that a woman in the Sengoku period had a lifespan of forty years or less, and that Sango had celebrated her twentieth birthday two years past. She remembered the cough that Sango had brushed off as nothing, and a terrible feeling, half anxiety, half premonition, crept over her.
"Oh – oh no...not Sango - "
Sesshomaru stared at her, woken to sudden awareness that she had not known – had not even suspected.
"I have to go back, Sesshomaru. I have to – I have to go back. There are medicines, ways to prevent the spread of diseases – I have antibiotics still, to - to treat...they've cured all this in the future, and -"
She was panicking, her reactions out of sorts, her emotions fluctuating wildly.
Sesshomaru took deep, calming breaths, and reached out to her.
"Of course you will go back – and I will go with you."
She gripped his hands in cold, tight fingers, and held on as if for dear life. Sesshomaru pulled her close, and held her against his chest so she could not see the scowl on his face.
If that woman dies, and hurts my Kagome – I will never forgive her.
Sesshomaru instructed Shippou – from a distance – that he was to care for Rin, and watch over her while they were away. Kagome watched his care with something close to amusement, but Sesshomaru was anxious for Rin's safety and would not put that aside for mere appearances.
Rin has already passed twice beyond the borders of death. Tenseiga cannot save her; neither will the Meidou grant me passage. She is already touched by what has happened to her; she brought me a message from beyond the border of this world.
I will not risk her.
The day had passed them by, by the time Kagome had packed all the things she said she needed, and Sesshomaru pulled her along as swiftly as she could go, testing her limits with a furious run.
The moon was low on the horizon when they reached Edo, the sky pale and torn with the red flash of sunset. Kagome saw Miroku with keen youkai sight, following the dirt track that rode along the ridge separating the fields from the village proper. He looked...odd, and she realized then that it was because he wasn't carrying his shakujou; that he was instead carrying a normal wooden staff.
Despite the reason for her return journey, Kagome couldn't help but grin.
That night, despite the scent of sickness that she could not now ignore, Kagome sat with Sango and Miroku and laughed and talked like it was the old days. Occasionally Sesshomaru could be prevailed upon for a comment or a growl...but neither of them said anything to Sango, who seemed perfectly fine, now...especially in the light of the news that Kaede brought.
"Neither Taru nor his wife is getting any better."
She stirred the fire slowly; her eye was tired, dim.
"I am afraid...I do not think Taru will last the night."
And with those words, Kagome was on her feet, good humor forgotten, determined expression in place.
"All right, that's it. Who's going to take me to these people? I'm here, might as well do some good – no, Miroku, no arguments. No one is going to die my first night here – or any night, if I have something to say about it!"
With a groan, Kaede pushed herself to her feet; Kagome was already at the door waiting with her bag by the time the old miko had managed to cross the floor. Kagome eyed her closely, nostrils dilated as she sniffed for that entwined presence of illness she had detected in Sango...but there was nothing. Just the grim weariness of an old woman who had seen far too much death in her time.
Outside, Kaede looked up at Kagome out of the corner of her eye, and made a gesture back toward her hut.
"You came for Sango, didn't you?"
Kagome was too startled to even attempt denial.
"I...she...Sesshomaru said -"
"Aye, I imagine he would. Too stubborn for her own good, that girl is – too intent on taking care of everyone else. That cough, now – I don't like that cough. Taru started out just the same, and now..."
She shook her head.
They had reached the dwelling where Taru and his wife were laid up in their sickbeds; the odors of illness were so strong that Kagome was struck as if by a physical blow, and then she steeled herself and went in.
On the futon by the eastern wall, there was a woman, moaning in fever, delirious and sweaty, her chest convulsing with a hacking cough. A man lay across from her, gray and still, the scent of his sickness darkening towards death. Kagome eyes fastened on a lump at his throat and another near his armpit; the swelling buboes were a sign that she had half-expected, half-feared – but she knew what to do now.
Kaede went to the fire, built it up and started water boiling.
Kagome tied back her sleeves, and opened her bag, and went to work.
What followed over the next three weeks was a whirlwind that Sesshomaru should have expected, but did not; he had seen her many times, patching up her compatriots, offering a bandage and a smile to a stranger – but that had not equated in his mind with the reality of her calling.
In all the ways that mattered, Kagome was, and always had been, a miko. For a miko was a healer, one who was meant to stride the balance of worlds; she was a hand to help, a voice to soothe, a laugh to brighten and a love to heal – she was all of the light, without the darkness...still.
Though she was his mate, he need never have feared his taint could touch her. She was bright, a light in the darkness, heavenly though youkai - more powerful now than she had ever been, and aware of that power, moving in it, with it. It became a constant whisper of strength around her, gave a lift of energy and hope even to those who were most ill.
Her very name became a healing word – and it was well that this was so, for as the sickness spread her presence became more needed. Sesshomaru left her for only a few hours, every three days – enough time to soothe the guardian at his gate with his presence, enough time to speak with shadows and determine Rin's well being.
He had never done this before – left his girl alone, unguarded by anything but that presence for so many days...but it was necessary. Kagome needed him – and her need brought him close to a danger he would never expose Rin to. Not her.
Not her.
The man, Taru, who had been in such terrible danger the night they arrived, lived. So did his wife. Others, slower to show symptoms, slower to take sick, grew bad, and then worse. The Taijiya was among those struck by sickness – the houshi, her man, was not. Along with the old miko, Miroku remained outside the isolated huts, placing barriers of power that stood over the houses of the sick.
Kagome, bolstered by her youkai immunity, did everything she could think of to try and halt the spread of the sickness – quarantine, antibiotics, power, herbs.
Even Sesshomaru took his turn, reinforcing with his own power the work the miko and monk had done. If he had not, they would never have succeeded; the work was draining, and they were only human.
It was a point of pride for him that he could help his mate in this way, when all the rest of her pack had failed...but he would never mention it. They were his, these humans – because they were hers, and because their village bordered his own lands.
If they died, now that he had committed himself to Kagome's efforts, he would take it as a personal affront.
It was youkai strength that sustained him – as it was youkai strength that sustained Kagome. He had not seen her sleep, though she must have, if only a nap here and there – she ate only what he brought her, and only out of the sight of her friends.
For the first time he felt the Inu within him thrum in pleasure as his mate gorged herself on his hunt, devouring sweet raw flesh and salt-hot blood, renewing her strength as best she could. Though he was reassured by this, he knew it would not be enough for long; even youkai could not push themselves as she was doing forever.
What she needed was rest – true rest. To hold Rin and Shippou close, without worry, to return to that pleasant day when she had been full of happiness; to back away from despair, and frustration, and her desperate attempts to keep alive the only sister she had ever known – and the rest of the village, too.
That was the thing that wore on her the most; Sango, strong, vital Sango, was succumbing to this sickness. It had settled early in her lungs, becoming pneumonic, but Miroku had brought her fighting to her bed, vehemently refusing to acknowledge there was anything more wrong with her than a cold.
When the first lump showed, painfully swelling beneath her skin, she had gone silent, and subdued – but by then it was nearing too late.
Kagome's strange drugs from the future were almost gone, her power depleted by weeks of use and strain. The stores of herbs were low – everything was low. There were whispers of winter starvation to come as the rice came into its seasons and the grains ripened, and still men and women lay struck down with sickness; even the vegetable patches usually tended by children were burdened with overripe greens.
Sesshomaru looked around, and saw worry and the pinch of fear on almost every face but Kagome's – and he knew that her composure hung by a thread.
It was a fragile thread – a single woman's life. He considered, quietly, if there was anything he could do...and then spun quickly back towards the sound of Kagome's voice, soothing some sufferer. He found her in a squalid hut, wiping away flecks of bloody sputum from the corner of Sango's mouth. The line of her smile was a shivering, quivering, thing; he knew then that he was doing right.
"Kagome."
She looked up at him, startled, and he saw that she hadn't even noticed him come in.
"Sesshomaru...is there something you need?"
She stood, and swayed, and then caught herself on the edge of her chair
His eyes narrowed at her, and he took the two steps necessary to close the distance between them and reached out for her. She was pale, trembling, dark-eyed; she looked as ill as half her patients and he felt a painful throb in his chest, just looking at her.
I will hunt for her again when I return, and I will insist she sleep.
But for now...there were necessities.
"Kagome, I came to tell you I will return home, now. I will return soon – before nightfall, if all goes well. Tell me, can you make a list, swiftly, of all the herbs and potions you require?"
Her eyes widened; she seemed fractionally more alert.
"I...I could, but – but why? There's nowhere nearby I could -"
"I will send Jaken on Ah-Un. He was quite skillful at procuring items from human villages when it was required for Rin...though it may mean I must lend him the Staff of Two Heads once more."
For a moment, her mouth opened wide, and she pressed her hands against it – and then grabbed at him, and hugged him tightly, so tightly she might have killed someone else.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you -"
He felt only pleasure, that he had made a correct decision, and bent forward to kiss her once, softly, on the mouth.
"Make your list, Kagome. Quickly."
She wrote so fast that he was surprised the characters were even legible, and then pressed a thin, strange sheet of paper, marked with blue lines, into his hand.
"Before nightfall, Kagome. I will return. And I will insure Jaken returns tomorrow with what you require."
It was a quick journey, there and back – he had made it half a dozen times already, returning to steady the sleep of an ambush of power. He called for Jaken specifically, and waited while he was brought to the gate; in the glimpse of a high window he saw Rin, staring down at him, waving frantically...and behind her, over her shoulder, the glitter of green Kitsune eyes.
He felt suddenly reassured; she was no longer alone. Rin, too, had a companion.
Hesitantly, he waved back – and then turned to Jaken, who had appeared in the open gate.
"I have a task for you; do not fail me."
Jaken heard the emphasis, and accepted his mission with a gulp and deep breath.
It was early in the evening when Sesshomaru returned to the village, two hours before he had told Kagome he would return.
He arrived to a place drowned in wailing, the mourning cries of widows and daughters; bereavement – a death, then.
He let out a long sigh; these weeks, he had been expecting it, waiting for it, but Kagome had held the mortal shadow at bay as if by sheer force of will. Shaking his head, he turned toward the forest, already dismissing the scents of sickness and death in favor of the musk of the forest beasts.
There was a scream from behind him, a cry not human but youkai, and in seventeen seconds he was at Kagome's side, staring down at the body of the woman she had loved so much.
In the dimness of the fortress as the night grew in darkness, Rin sat alone at the long table in the hall and chewed thoughtfully. It was not yet time to be worrying – Sesshomaru-sama had only just returned to them, and barely four hours had passed since his departure.
Still - uneasiness was growing on her. A presence loomed over her shoulder, but it was not the familiar silence of those who walked the halls with her.
Partially, it was because she was alone, without Sesshomaru-sama, or okaa-san...only her new onii-san. All day, she had felt strange, but Shippou had not seemed to notice. He was kitsune, youkai - but he was not attuned to this place like she was.
He was already sleeping, at ease in his new bed.
Rin finished her snack and wandered away from the table down the hallways, almost humming, not quite singing, in a low voice. She listened to almost-whispers, to the wind in the corridors and the silences. Usually those things were quiet, background sounds, reassurance – tonight they were sounds-as-motion, living noise.
The darkness drew on as the night deepened, closing around the stones like a gloved hand, but Rin did not go seeking out her bed, or the sleepy firelight in the library, or the bubbling of the springs. Instead, like a tiny guard, she followed her thoughts around in circles, peering past windows, blinking into the night and holding her breath so as not to mist the windows.
Outside, pale blue moonlight illuminated the courtyards, the gardens of withering blossoms and fallen leaves. It highlighted the edges of new-bared branches and set the reflection pool aglow with cerulean light, but it was not the light that drew her attention, not the clean edges that showed under it but the shadows that floated near it. They were strange shadows that seemed to hide outside the angle of the moonslight; swiftly, soft as a whisper, she made her way down the stairs and through the silent-thick hallways, out through a side-door to an alcove that showed her a hidden view of moon-embraced grasses and cold red leaves.
The presence of watchful danger increased moment by moment as she approached the outside. She had no sense of immediate peril, but Sesshomaru-sama had taught her himself and his effort had not been for nothing. She knew the taste of danger, its thickness infiltrating itself into her air, her breathing. Slowly, becoming reluctant with an emotion that was near to fear, she slid across the courtyards to the inside of the Wall, and then around until she came to the stairs and could climb them to the top of the out-leaning parapet.
Under her feet, the white stone was cold, almost icy, and at the top of the Wall the wind was stronger, but she counted stars and tried to appear unconcerned. Her eyes had already picked out the dangerous strangeness; on the ground and further away, near the reaching arm of the grassy plains that approached the Gate, there was movement.
Close to her, by her side, there was a sudden whisper, a soundless focus of discontent that she knew well – the ones who served Sesshomaru-sama, standing with her now, aware but apparently helpless.
"I wonder who these are, and why they are here. Sesshomaru-sama will not be pleased."
Around her, the discontent was stronger, and she knew what they wanted – her, safe inside stone walls, safe in her bed. In that focus, there were other things as well. They had an awareness of the presence that had drawn her, pulled her outside, and though they could not commit to understanding with words, Rin knew what had to be done.
When Sesshomaru-sama came back, she would relay the message that was this discontent – that shadows had come back, to watch the wall. The promise of danger quickened her blood – and then she saw a shattering go up in blue and fragrant light, exploding with soundless menace.
There were words, though she could not hear them; an ancient request, answered by the power that Rin had known as guardian as long as she had known this place. It was a guardian that had been placed against trespass by those not bound to the land and its promise.
It was a guardian with one fatal flaw, for neither Sesshomaru nor his father had been the ones to lay that power down; to capture it; to steady it in the earth.
The fortress had been the Dragonlord's fortress, and it was to the Dragonlord's blood that the power had first been bound.
Rin felt the danger peak in moment of crisis and leapt immediately for the stairs, ran down, down, down into the courtyard, calling for Sesshomaru the whole while, though she knew even he would not be able to hear her, as far away as he was.
"Sesshomaru-sama – Sesshomaru-sama!"
She thought of Shippou, asleep in bed, and prayed that he would hear her. He was young and almost as powerless as she was – she knew that. But he was youkai – Kitsune. He had been showing her tricks of power as he practiced for weeks, now; she knew that he could do what needed to be done.
Sesshomaru-sama, Sesshomaru-sama, Rin is afraid –
"Sesshomaru-sama!"
Claws came down out of the sky; she heard a female laughing, the sound dark and vibrant. Rin turned and twisted as best she could, dodging, squirming in the arms that grabbed her regardless. She dug her little nails into pristine youkai skin and yowled like a tortured cat; she saw wings, a great shadow raising over her, and called out one last time for Sesshomaru, scrabbling at her captor.
The Dragon that held her – she could see it was a Dragon now – tried to sling her over his shoulder, turning to laugh, to speak to someone that stood behind him.
Taking a last chance, Rin grabbed at the trio of shiny golden rings in his ear and ripped them from the flesh in the same moment that she bit the fingers sprawled across her face to the bone.
An unearthly shriek shattered the night, and then a heavy hand drew back and crashed across Rin's face. Her head lolled, unconscious.
From the window where he had been watching for a frozen minute, Shippou stared in horror – and then leapt back from the window and ran down the stairs and out the door, as fast as his legs could carry him.
Kagome, worn by her efforts, having pushed the endurance of even youkai stamina, broke down into tears. She would have done anyway. Sango had been more than a friend, had been like a sister - and this on top of three deaths in the last hour, after she had done so well.
Sesshomaru stared down at her, one hand tight on the hilt of his sword, and the other just as tight in a fist at his side. What could he do? Here at last, it appeared, was an enemy he could not fight; an enemy that had never concerned him. He did not know, as Kagome did, the cause of the disease that was killing her friends; he didn't know that epidemics of this plague would cast down empires and infrastructures the world over – that it had blackened doorways with its terrible presence for hundreds of years...and would, for hundreds more.
Kagome knew, but she had never thought to be confronted by such a terrible truth. Could it really happen this way? After so much work to gain happiness, and so close to the wedding -
Beside her, staring down at her, Sesshomaru felt a flood of unusual feelings and examined them closely, with as much detachment as he could manage. Concern; that was for Kagome, confronted by so many terrible things. Anger – for the woman, Sango. How dare she die, and grieve Kagome so? Irritation, and more anger, and helplessness – and fury, because of that. Because he could do nothing, nothing to help her – except maybe – maybe -
He turned his eyes downward to the sword in his fist, pulsing, hot in his hand. He often found himself with a hand on the hilt of his sword while he was thinking; it was habit. It was not habit for his hand to find Tenseiga.
...Interesting. And what will you do, sword? If I save this woman, will she return to life in the grips of her illness, just to die again?
As if in answer to his thoughts, light blazed blue in his hands, and Kagome turned to him, wary hope in her face. She had seen this happen once before, and had been disappointed – but not this time. Sesshomaru made two swift movements with Tenseiga, blurred slashes of blue in the air, and Kagome saw Sango's eyes blink open wide; she took a deep, startled breath, coughed.
"Sango!"
Almost immediately, her eyes closed again, but Kagome was not worried. Her breathing was regular and even, the breathing of a sleeper, not a death rasp, not punctuated by that terrible, gruesome rattle; her skin had lost its blotchy coloration, and the ugly black buboes that had disfigured her were fading away faster than a bad dream.
Half in awe, Kagome turned to her mate and stared at his sword.
"Sesshomaru – that sword...that power -"
He stared at her impassively.
"It was my father's gift to me. I never understood why I might need it, until I found Rin - and then you."
To his lasting surprise, Kagome reached out a hand for his sword and lay her fingers on the hilt. She spoke low and lovingly.
"Thank you, Tenseiga."
The sword sang in response.
That night, there were three other cries of disbelief and pleasure; three other families restored, made whole by Sesshomaru's hand. He was careful to warn them – each of them – that this was a power that could only be used once.
For Rin, he had traversed the underworld, had stepped past the threshold of death and into hell. For these he would make no such sacrifice, take no such risk.
None of them could do anything but thank him; after all, who would hope for such a miracle twice?
In the calm that followed, the time of deep breaths, Sesshomaru went to Kaede and told her he was taking Kagome away – for a little while. For her to sleep – for her to rest.
Shippou ran for hours, spurred by fear. He remembered the pain that had been inflicted on him by Inuyasha all too well, and he knew that he was no match for any of the Dragons who had taken Rin. Her bravery astonished him – the way she had fought them, biting, kicking, clawing – she had even torn the earrings from one of them.
But she was a little human girl, weaker than he was even if she was braver – how humiliating – and they had taken her. Taken her!
She had screamed one thing over and over, one thing only -
"Sesshomaru-sama!"
His ears were still echoing with it, though he had known that Sesshomaru and Kagome were much too far away to hear.
But he knew the way to Edo; he could follow Kagome's scent.
Faithfully, he was carrying Rin's message.
Sesshomaru-sama!
A/N: Well, well, long time no see! And no, behold, this fic is not abandoned! Just...I got eaten alive by alpha :p And then oneshots. And then Alpha. BUT! Ku went all whip-cracky at me, and got me started again – and then some other peoples also got whip-cracky at me and kept me going...so...This One's For You, Whip-Crackers! Long May You Live!
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