InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Lemon Twist ❯ His ( Chapter 9 )

Disclaimer: I don't own anything… especially not Sesshomaru (lucky for him!) or any of Rumiko Takahashi's creations. I do, however, borrow them for lewd activities.

 

A/N: A gift!fic in honour of Tomoeish's natal day!

 

She is my `Darkness' muse and one of the two lovely co-founders and moderators for the Sess/Rin shrine `Moonlight Flower'; the other is the talented artist JadeT. If you are a fan of this pairing, I encourage you to join the site for the artwork and the stories archived there.

 

Rated `M' for citrus content. Contains spoilers for the InuYasha manga #491-493.

 

Jigai is the female form of seppuku (ritual suicide) as was formerly practised within the samurai class of Japan. The killing blow is delivered by a dagger-thrust to the jugular vein; historically, the dagger would be part of the girl's mogi, or coming-of-age gifts that signified her entry into the adult world, with all the rights and responsibilities… including seeking death in preference to dishonour.

 

Many thanks to Alterfano for her excellent suggestions, and to Ouatic-7 for her insights.

 

Edited and reposted

 

 

His

 

Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж

 

The highly-feared, highly-dangerous and highly-cranky Lord of the West paused in the act of opening the fusuma leading to his private quarters, and tried not to wince as Jaken's complaining tones rose to a new pitch of blustering impatience from within.

 

Good gods, I cannot deal with this right now.

 

Sesshomaru was verging on exhaustion, and wished nothing more than to lose his armour and collapse onto his futon after a harrowing two-month long war patrol that had seen several pitched battles between his troops and an invasion force from the Chinese mainland. The interlopers had been flung back to their own shores, but the taiyoukai was feeling the effects of weeks of sleep deprivation and stress.

 

Not that any of the watching servants could tell, as his dour expression did not change.

 

Deciding on a strategic retreat, he turned away from the red-framed door and swept out of the pavilion, scattering servants in his path. Outside on the veranda in the fading light, he handed over his sword; not Tokijin, long broken, and not Tenseiga, long re-absorbed, but rather a masterpiece forged from his own fang to the bowing armoury-keeper, who protected his hands in his linen sleeves to avoid touching the deadly blade. Sesshomaru impatiently yanked off his long obi while shrugging out of the heavy white pelt and pulled at the bright silk tassels until his armour thudded to the wooden planking, to be collected by twittering women as he strode off in the direction of the gardens.

 

I will be less likely to reduce my retainers by one toad-imp if he remains out of my sight for now.

 

As he arrived at the wisteria-draped moon gate, his thoughts calmed and he breathed deeply of the heated scents of roses, camellias and other flowering plants that filled this small walled sanctuary in the heart of the shiro. In the coolness of twilight, all the various delicate scents were being released as one heady perfume.

 

His irritation subsiding with every step, he glided noiselessly among the formal flower beds and along the verge of the koi pond. The greedy fat fish usually hurried to the surface in hopes of a meal, except when it was his shadow that slipped across the surface of the water. For him they stayed deep and safe in the waters' depths, as though they could sense the predator living just beneath his veneer of civility.

 

He noted a small, nodding cluster of the tiny pale-blue bell flowers that always reminded him of her. They were a common flower, very delicate and easily crushed; nurtured here in safety, they joyously flourished and grew freely throughout the formal plantings, bright spots of colour bobbing cheerfully among the long stems of white and yellow irises. Crouching, he allowed one perfect blossom to balance on a long, deadly claw tip… and permitted himself to smile. Rising to his feet, he continued deeper into the garden, his feet leading eventually towards the wild riot of roses that she had planted years ago with the head gardener's help, her short kosode kilted up even higher, her cheeks and hands filthy, her face split with a wide grin as she showed off her prize worm.

 

Chinese roses, of course… how ironic…

 

A familiar, yet somehow different scent came to him, mixed as it was with all the floral perfumes. Another vaguely familiar scent was mixed in with it; Sesshomaru instantly snapped to full alert when he made the connection, but he kept his jyaki under strict control and masked his presence from the keen senses of the other inu-youkai even though he was downwind. He briefly wondered why she was here without at least a maid, since it was long past a suitable time for her to retire.

 

He ghosted through the ornamental grasses without leaving so much as a whisper of silk to mark his passing, until he was hidden against the massive trunk of an ancient sakura tree. The spent pale-pink blossoms carpeted the ground beneath his feet; the scent of their decay faintly reminded him that he had missed her favourite festival.

 

“Rin-chan, you know what I have come to ask…”

 

“I do know, Hijiro-san, but I can only say the same thing that I have said before… I am his, and can belong to none other.” Rin's lilting tones were subdued and Sesshomaru wondered why she sounded so… not herself.

 

What in all the hells is going on here?

 

He carefully shifted his position until he could see the speaker… and nearly revealed his presence anyways. He didn't quite manage stifle his low snarl, but the couple were too engrossed in their conversation to notice.

 

Do not touch what is mine.

 

Rin's back was to him, her dark head tilted up towards her companion. A tall, slender youth robed in tattered blue silk, with long wheat-blond hair spilling over his broad shoulders and catching on his battle-dented and stained golden breastplate was holding Rin's slender hand in both of his own.

 

We returned less than a half hour ago… he came directly here… to see her…

 

“Sesshomaru-sama cares for you as if you were born a member of his House, my lady. No one disputes that you belong to him,” Hijiro murmured, his copper eyes fastened on her face. “Rin-chan… I have distinguished myself in battle and been rewarded with an estate by my father. I-I have come to ask you… if you would… if you might… agree to be… the lady of my house… the mother of my heirs… m-my life-mate?”

 

The fool asks a child to be his mate? My Rin to be his?

 

“Do you have your father's permission to ask this, Hijiro-san?” she asked, her tone carefully neutral.

 

“Hai. Both he and my lady mother gave their blessing before I left, since you were expected to celebrate your coming-of-age at the sakura festival.”

 

“I… Hijiro-san, I am only human. My life span to yours is much like the sakura blossoms; a brief moment and then over too soon…” she whispered, and Sesshomaru's heart clenched at this reminder of her fragile mortality.

 

“Then spend your life at my side, Rin-chan. I will love you for the time that you are given, and cherish our children after you are gone.”

 

“Y-your family would not m-mind… hanyous in their line…?” Her tone held surprise, and the taiyoukai flinched over the epithets he had hurled at his half-brother within her hearing when Naraku still stalked the land. Inuyasha now belligerently protected the village of Edo and was a valued, if still hopelessly obnoxious, resource to call upon in times of strife and upheaval.

 

“I am the second son, Rin-chan… my elder brother and my sister have married full-bloods, so I may choose my mate with my heart.”

 

“Very well. I shall send a note to Sesshomaru-sama tonight,” Rin said quietly… too quietly to the listening ears that once knew her better than most.

 

The happy relief that swept over Hijiro's handsome features could not be hidden; he pressed Rin's hand to his lips. “Thank you, my lady! I look forward to the announcement of our betrothal!” he exclaimed, and then he became serious. “May I… call you `Rin'?” the youth asked, lifting a clawed hand to lightly touch her cheek.

 

“You honour me with the asking,” she replied, and Sesshomaru noted the formality colouring her voice. Hijiro smiled again, and his eyes softened; he unknowingly took his life in his hands as he stepped forward to bow his head and nuzzle the girl's cheek, blissfully oblivious to the simmering taiyoukai less than fifteen feet away who was one caress away from removing him from her presence… permanently.

 

Sesshomaru started when something sizzled next to his boot; he quickly retracted his poison before its distinctive scent gave him away.

 

She is not rejecting his attentions…? A child cannot wed…

 

“Farewell, Rin. I must leave you… reluctantly… to reassure my lady mother that I am indeed alive and in good health. I will come to you tomorrow to hear my lord's answer.” With a final kiss to her hand, Hijiro bowed and turned to disappear in one fluid leap over the wall. For his part, Sesshomaru breathed shallowly while he considered the import of this brief encounter.

 

Is he the first? Have there been others? How long has this been going on?

 

His mind reeled with the dual blow of discovering that not only was his precious ward considered by others ready to wed, but that jealousy scorched through his veins. Both of these bore further consideration, especially the latter, but then the young woman in question sighed deeply before crunching across the gravel and turning to gracefully seat herself on a stone bench. The taiyoukai may have noticed the muted orange-red and golden hues of her elegant silk kosode as it trailed across the smooth grey stones, or the bluebell-coloured obi with the long trailing ends that fluttered behind her like butterfly wings as she moved… or he might not. He was busy puzzling over something far more eye-catching.

 

Rin's pretty face was pensive as she chewed her lip, not looking at all like a woman whose heart's delight had just proposed to her. Sesshomaru didn't notice at first; his attention was firmly fixed some inches lower than her chin.

 

Where in the seven hells did those come from?

 

Her kosode was demurely wrapped, allowing the inner layers to be displayed with only the slightest amount of bare skin at the base of her throat visible… but there was no mistaking the sweet, very feminine curves that filled the soft fabric. Since there was no one to witness it, Sesshomaru allowed his confusion to show as he pondered how he could have missed something so crucial as Rin growing up, all the while inspecting her appearance. Then he noticed her hair was pinned up with ornamental combs that he thought he recognized, baring the elegant sweep of her neck to his gaze.

 

When did she celebrate her mogi? How did I lose track…?

 

His vision focussed again when Rin sighed once more, rose from the bench and extracted a small sheathed dagger from the rear of her obi. Tucking the plain scabbard back into the elaborate sash just below her breasts, she began to cut long stems of perfect golden roses still in bud. Sesshomaru watched her while his mind continued to turn over the mystery of his girl-child growing into a woman while he was apparently too preoccupied to notice.

 

She hadn't known how old she was when she entered the shiro at his heels not long after the defeat of evil, but to the questioning maid servants charged with her care, she insisted that the only date that mattered was the day that Tenseiga chose her. When he was in turn politely pressed for details, he dimly remembered the sweetly-scented blooming tree on the edge of the meadow where he lay paralyzed from the Tetsusaiga's blow, and that fateful day was therefore fixed in early Spring. The residents of the shiro calmly adapted to the addition of a second reason to celebrate the sakura festival, and so the years slipped on.

 

We celebrate a female's mogi at fourteen summers… and she came to me at five? Six? Which means she would be at least… ah.

 

While he watched her move lightly amongst the flowers, harvesting a substantial bouquet, he continued to ponder why it came as such a shock to discover that Rin had seemingly become an adult behind his back. Time flows differently for youkai; ten years pass with the speed of one. Another possible reason occurred to him which he at first pushed away; but the more he considered it, the more likely it became… and his irritation returned anew.

 

Rin had been permitted access to him at all hours and under most circumstances while she remained a child. It happened more often than not that she would fall asleep tucked into the coils of his pelt while he worked at his desk in the night, until a maid transferred her to her own futon. When the dawn came, he was often awakened by the pattering of bare feet on the wooden flooring just before a small warm body arrived in his bed where she burrowed into his side and promptly dropped off to sleep again. While this was an inconvenient habit when he desired feminine company, it came to be accepted knowledge that a woman favoured with the taiyoukai's amorous attentions had to return to her own quarters before the stars had set.

 

Sometimes Rin's nightmares of death brought him out of his rooms and down the corridor to hers; he held her until she ceased to tremble, her tousled head pressed against his chest as if his heartbeat and his touch were the only things that could calm her. On those nights, he accepted the inconvenience as part of his duty as her protector. However, at some point she must have been held back from her visits without his knowledge, for she had stopped coming to him at all in the night… or anywhere else. He thought carefully, and realized that the withdrawal had been very gradual, with a final break probably taking place while he was away on an extended patrol much like the one from which he had just returned. Sesshomaru had to hand it to the conniving old crones; they had deftly removed the girl from his presence with more skill than even Naraku.

 

For the last five years… she has only been permitted in my presence for a few moments at a time. They must have banned her from me … to prevent…

 

To prevent a repetition of my father.

 

Sesshomaru closed his eyes and acknowledged the caution of his retainers… then cursed them. He briefly wondered how many fear-stricken nights she had spent, drenched in sweat from trying to escape the ghostly wolves hungering for her fragile life, denied the comfort of his touch because they feared he would forget who he was…

 

I am Sesshomaru. She is mine to protect, how and when I choose.

 

At that moment, Rin uttered a sharp cry and his head snapped around as the scent of her blood reached him. The knife quivered hilt-up in the grass at her feet; hampered by an armload of blossoms, the young woman frowned at the red droplets gathering on her finger tip and held the injury away from her silken sleeve. “Feh…” she muttered, and looked for a place to put down her scented burden.

 

She jumped badly when her wrist was circled by long fingers and then stared up in shock while Sesshomaru inspected the gash torn by a large thorn that was still lodged deeply in her flesh. Without changing his expression, he delicately flicked the thorn away with a claw and then lifted her hand to his mouth. He heard her sharp intake of breath as his lips closed over the wound, and then he watched her reaction through his lashes as he gently sucked it clean.

 

Rin was immobilized, her dark eyes wide and a blush staining her cheeks as his mouth and tongue slowly moved over her finger. He did not release her wrist until long after all traces of blood were gone and she was trembling slightly, her heart pounding in his ears. Stooping, he swept up her dagger, inspected it briefly before wiping the blade on his sleeve, and then stepped close to slip the weapon back into its sheath, the backs of his fingers lightly brushing the swell of her breasts as he did so. “When did you celebrate your mogi?” he asked, his voice deep and neutral even though he inwardly noted her shiver.

 

“A-a moon cycle ago…” she whispered, entranced by the molten quality of his glance. She was no fool; she had been the recipient before of this sort of intensely acquisitive look from other males of the court, but she had almost given up hope of ever seeing it in the yellow eyes of her lord. She had convinced herself to accept Hijiro-san's suit, acknowledging that her heart would break before she could bow to the pedigreed noblewoman Sesshomaru-sama would eventually choose. Secretly, she hoped to be nothing but a cherished memory by that time, but if not, she had debated whether it would be better to end her misery with a quick thrust of her new dagger or to live as another's wife away from the court. However, committing jigai without permission would disgrace her memory in his eyes, and that was the determining factor why she had accepted Hijiro-san's attentions.

 

Until she was officially declared an adult she had been off-limits to all; many times she had blessed her childish insistence on her new `birth-day', as this had allowed her to remain unreachable by those seeking power or influence. However, this did not stop some from trying to get a leg up on the competition; Hijiro had been the quietest and most genuine of her would-be suitors, but she had still been caught by surprise when last winter he had brought her an exotic orchid from somewhere to the south of Kyushu, held carefully inside his kosode to keep it from freezing on the long trip back to the shiro on the coast of the icy Yellow Sea.

 

He had shyly presented it to her, with much shuffling of boots and hesitant syllables, but she had graciously accepted the slightly wilted bloom anyways while smiling with her lips but not her heart… and then endured a scolding from her keepers for doing so. However, once Hijiro's lineage and family fortune had been calculated by the sharp eyed and sharper tongued dowagers, she had been fairly pushed into his arms. While she enjoyed the way his copper eyes glowed when he spoke to her, and the way his single cheek stripe crinkled when he smiled… he wasn't Sesshomaru-sama, and that's all there was to it.

 

When she had been first prevented from seeking out Sesshomaru for comfort, she had cried, screamed, even thrown things and pounded the floor with her small fists; it was all to no avail. Her removal had been gradual; her favourite nursemaid came to cradle her one night that he was away on some diplomatic mission or other, and it had continued from there, gradually eroding her small happiness in his presence until the horrible night she realized their separation was meant to be permanent.

 

Her keepers had told her, in no uncertain terms, that she was not welcome in his presence any longer unless she learned to behave herself like a young lady of the Court of the Western Lands instead of a spoiled hoyden. Her knuckles firmly rapped, she was told she risked a total ban if she breathed even a word of complaint to him, thereby neatly preventing her from asking him if this was truly his will. Unable to fight back, she had cried herself to sleep and then for months afterwards suffered the worst nightmares of her brief life… but he couldn't hear her terrified cries, because they had moved her quarters as far away from his rooms as possible within the fortress, isolating her as much as they could.

 

When he didn't immediately seek her out even when he returned from his mission, didn't protest when she was whisked away after only a brief appearance at the court celebration following his safe return, and merely looked in on her lessons a day after that, she had no choice but to accept her new situation. The dowagers, satisfied at her capitulation, then set about moulding her into the very model of the perfect mate... but not, as they repeatedly told her, for a taiyoukai. She would be sought after as a bride by the second and third sons of the nobility, for the tie to the ruling house she represented.

 

Then, they muttered together over their tea, maybe then Sesshomaru-sama would get on with the job of finding a suitable mate and producing an heir.

 

Aside from the occasional, highly cherished moments at formal court functions when she could fill her eyes and her heart with him, the only bright spot had been Sesshomaru-sama's honoured mother. Mikadzuki-sama would periodically sweep into the shiro, most often while her son was away, and turn everything and everyone upside down. She always made a point of fussing over Rin, praising her manners and conduct, gifting her with exquisite silk bolts of silk, even going so far as to include the young woman in her activities and meetings with the staff. Rin was never quite sure how to take the mercurial taiyoukai or her sometimes wry comments, but she always remembered that Mikadzuki-sama had returned her to life after she was snatched away by the Hell Hound and was therefore very respectful. The way her keepers squirmed under the taiyoukai's sharp eye was also highly gratifying.

 

A month ago, while Sesshomaru-sama was away fighting the Chinese invaders, Rin was miserably sure that her mogi would be forgotten. However, three days before the sakura trees in the gardens were at their peak, Mikadzuki-sama had arrived on a spring zephyr and made sure her celebration had happened. In fact, she had presented Rin with rich gifts to mark the occasion, much to the consternation of the astonished dowagers who then had to scramble to provide a suitable feast for the human that now two taiyoukai seemed inclined to favour. The scheming old crones did not quite dare try to prevent Rin from being in Mikadzuki-sama's company…

 

“This was her kosode,” Sesshomaru murmured. “And her obi… my mother was here?” Suddenly breathless because his fingertips were lightly touching her shoulder as they traced the patterns on the delicate fabric, Rin could only nod, lost in the intensity of his gaze and giddy hope bubbling in her heart. Long claws trailed up the side of her neck and tapped the intricately carved tortoiseshell combs securing her hair. “These and the blade were hers as well.”

 

It would seem that my mother is taking her usual subtle hand in my affairs… she often said she would pass on her treasures to my… gods. Does she mean for me to take Rin…?

 

Rin swayed slightly towards him as he quickly dropped his hand away at that thought. However, the more he considered the idea, he reluctantly admitted his crafty mother was right. Rin may have been human, but she was outside all factions at the court and her presence would make negotiating with the human warlords attempting to encroach on his lands simpler… but his choice would make both of them a target for discontent.

 

Is she worth it? There will be hell to pay, for certain… civil war at worst and ridiculously-eared hanyou children at least. Ah, well… a quiet life is often boring... but I will not give her up to another. But… can I be sure of her heart after this long? She must have thought I abandoned her… never, my Rin, not after following you into Hell itself.

 

Her eyes had never left his face, but she did startle like one waking from a dream when he clipped a swelling rosebud from the almost-forgotten bouquet and tucked it behind her ear. It was an intimate gesture, a father's… or a lover's… right, and he waited to see how she would react. Her eyes grew even wider, if that was possible, and then a bright pink blush spread over her cheeks as she hastily backed up a few steps and bowed very formally to him. “Welcome home, my lord! I trust the, um, battle went to your… er, satisfaction?”

 

His lip twitched as she floundered, obviously attempting to recall the polite phrases she'd been taught through her embarrassment at being caught gaping foolishly, but he forestalled her by asking evenly, “Have you some news?” He left the question hovering heavily between them and watched keenly for her reaction. When she visibly drooped, her sparkle dimming as she realized he may have overheard her previous conversation, he disguised his triumphant smile behind his sleeve.

 

She does not wish to be his… she has always been mine.

 

“My lord… Hijiro-san… has asked me if I will become… his life-mate,” she finally answered, plucking listlessly at a rose leaf.

 

Sesshomaru ignored the anticipated howls of outrage from the dowagers and stepped forward to close the distance she had created. Stilling her nervous fingers by covering them with his own, he elicited another startled response, but waited until she slowly raised her eyes to meet his before he spoke. “You do not wish this?”

 

“He's kind… and loving…” she stuttered out, but looked away again, down at their joined hands, unable to keep the longing from her voice.

 

“You were not meant to live out your days among the petty nobility,” Sesshomaru rumbled quietly, and even though her heart sped up, he knew he must give her the right of refusal.

 

“M-my lord?” she whispered breathily, the hope fairly singing in her throat.

 

“Would you choose to live in the safety of obscurity … or would you face what dangers may come at my side?” he asked bluntly.

 

Her face paled slightly, but then she drew herself up proudly and looked him straight in the eye. “I choose to remain with you, my lord.”

 

“As you wish; bring your flowers to my quarters.” It was in effect a blatant proposition, delivered quietly but with depth of meaning, and her surprise showed clearly on her face even in the fading light. He turned on his heel and crossed the garden towards the exit, listening as her lacquered zori crunched the gravel in his wake.

 

Sesshomaru paused in the moon gate; Rin's heart leapt at the image of him framed by the trailing white blossoms of the wisteria and tried to quicken her pace but was hampered by her layers of silk and her sandals. With an impatient noise, she kicked off the zori and hiked up her skirts with one hand, high enough to yank down the restraining innermost slip knotted at her hip. Stepping out of the thin silk, she quickly scooped it and the sandals up in her free hand and dashed after the taiyoukai as if she were still that tousle-headed child instead of a young woman robed like a princess.

 

A perfect crescent moon carved the sky as torches and oil lamps illuminated the deepening dusk. The shiro continued to bustle after nightfall as the barracks filled with the returning troops, private chambers hummed with greetings and reunions and the cooks resigned themselves to a long shift feeding all those extra appetites.

 

In Sesshomaru's private rooms, while a blushing Rin deftly arranged the roses in a fine porcelain vase, Jaken drilled holes in her back with his furious glare. He had been astonished when his lord had swept into the ten-tatami-mat reception room half an hour ago with his ward close behind… the comely ward that he preferred not to have to share Sesshomaru's attention with; in fact, he'd rather enjoyed these last few years when it had been just the two of them. Jaken had to grudgingly admit that Rin certainly looked every inch a noblewoman… until he caught a glimpse of her bare feet beneath her rich robes. Muttering dire calamity under his breath, he determined to protect his lord from scandal.

 

The taiyoukai whose virtue he intended to protect was seated next to the open shoji overlooking the moonlit garden, alternately admiring Rin's graceful movements and mentally rolling his eyes at Jaken's grumbled commentary… which he could hear perfectly… while finding himself relaxing in a way he had not enjoyed in many years.

 

Why did I not notice that she was absent from my side?

 

Rin placed the last flower and sat back on her heels for a moment, her head tilted prettily as she considered the elegant display, and then made a few minor adjustments to the arrangement. She swept the clippings into a shallow bowl, wiped off her knife and tucked it away… then cautiously waited while the sharp little voices of her keepers cackled in her mind. She had been told over and over that she was not fit to be his companion, that she was merely his pet, and the best way she could serve him was to accept an arranged marriage within the court. You amuse him they'd said. That is your only purpose. At some point in her life, she'd swallowed her disappointment and begun to believe them; now, as she waited quietly for him to indicate their next move, she pushed away the dissonant voices and composed herself.

 

“Rin.” Her name came out as a deep sigh of contentment, and her head flew up to see molten eyes and his hand extended towards her. In a daze she crossed the tatami on silent feet and knelt at his side, resting her hand in his palm. “Jaken… have my futon prepared on your way out.” As the toad-imp goggled, speechless, Sesshomaru gently tugged her closer before speaking over her dark head, “Tell her women that she stays with her lord this night.”

 

Jaken closed his beak, sweat trickling down his green head and had the presence of mind to bow as he backed out of the room; his shrill tones could be heard barking orders to the bed chamber attendants, closely followed by the sounds of bustle… and then, silence. Sesshomaru watched Rin through his lashes and then made her squeak as he scooped her into his lap and held her there with his arm around her hips.

 

Sesshomaru was not prepared for her to push away, panic muddying her scent. In response, he growled and jerked her into his chest, frowning into her hair. “There is nothing to fear, Rin. I will not harm you.”

 

She remained stiff and tense. “I know that, my lord… but I….”

 

Something that was definitely jealousy surged through him. “Would you rather it was that callow youth embracing you?” he snarled as he let his arm fall away.

 

“No!” she exclaimed desperately, and curled her fingers into the silk of his kosode, unintentionally pulling the neckline open. The pained look on her sweet face stopped him cold, and then she buried herself in his chest; moisture trickled onto his bared skin even as he smelt her tears. “No… I have only ever wanted you… but…” she whimpered, her slender body beginning to shake as if she were in the grip of nightmare.

 

“What?” he asked into her hair, avoiding the combs, running his hand soothingly up and down her back just as he had years before.

 

“I… am not… suitable…”

 

“Who told you this?” he demanded. When she stiffened again and made an anguished noise, he understood. “The women…” Fear coiled tangibly around her. “They told you that I had set you aside...” There was a long pause and then she nodded, still huddled miserably against his chest. Sesshomaru kissed the crown of her head and held her close. “You are mine, Rin… for as long as the gods see fit to let me keep you… unless, of course, you really would rather wed Hijiro…”

 

She clung to him, violently shaking her head, her movements causing her already disarranged skirts to reveal nearly the entire length of her legs. He curved his arm around her hips and dropped his hand to rest on the top of her thigh. As if it were an accident, he brushed the pad of his thumb across her silky skin and she went perfectly still. He did it again, and a fine tremour coursed through her. Repeating the caress, he began to rumble gently in his throat when she relaxed into him.

 

I have missed… her touch, her scent…

 

He was content to sit like this, holding her while delicately touching her bared skin until the oil lamp burned down and the moon was high in the spangled, velvety sky. As his hand became bolder, hers too became brave as her slender fingers worked their way under his loosened robes to stroke the hard planes of his chest, trace his collarbone, touch the rippled muscles of his abdomen. Both of their movements were slow and gently sensual… until the third time the carven edge of one of the tortoiseshell combs caught the side of his nose as he nuzzled her hair, and he reacted with alacrity. Removing the ornaments one by one, he ran her soft dark hair through his fingers until it tumbled down her back and pooled on the floor next to his hip. He made sure the rosebud was still secure behind her ear, then was surprised when she giggled at the light touch of his deadly claws down the side of her neck.

 

… her laughter, her smile… and the way her eyes sparkle.

 

“Come, beloved.” Her merriment caught in her throat at the endearment, and her eyes widened. She slowly slid off his lap; he handed her the discarded combs, admiring how her hair gleamed in the lamp light. As she tucked them into her sleeve, he rose to his feet and hooked his hand under her elbow, smirking as she `eeped' and tried to close the front of her skirts to cover her slim legs.

 

His bedchamber was lit by a single flickering lamp, revealing a neatly-prepared futon; Rin seemed to hesitate for a moment. “Do you wish to change your mind?” he asked quietly and was relieved when she shook her head, sending long dark ribbons cascading over her shoulders.

 

“No. I have wished to sleep in your bed again for so long…”

 

“There is no sleep for you here… not until we are properly reacquainted.” He arched an eyebrow as she blushed scarlet red, the embarrassment fairly rolling off her in waves. “Rin… did your women teach you anything useful?”

 

She turned even brighter at his insinuation and muttered, “I know how to sew and embroider… and do numbers… and write letters… and make sure the cooks aren't cheating… and…”

 

“Flower arranging.”

 

Rin spluttered, then glared at him, but her fierce look changed instantly at his amused expression. “You… you're teasing me!”

 

“Am I?” he answered mildly enough, but his yellow eyes were glinting. “The roses are very attractive.”

 

She `hmphed' and put her nose in the air, but then remembered what the conversation was about and wilted. “I don't know anything about… pleasing a man…”

 

“Since I am not a `man', that is a definite advantage.” He nearly grinned at the gamut of expressions scudding across her face as she realized the full import of his comment, but instead held out his hand. “We shall commence your lessons now, beloved. The moji is only the first step of becoming a woman.” Once again, the endearment served to startle her into silence. Drawing her close, Sesshomaru kissed her forehead, moved slowly down to nuzzle her cheek, accustoming her to his touch. Her fingertips came to rest on his bare chest; when he moved to kiss the corner of her mouth and finally her lips, her arms slid up around his neck and she pressed herself against him.

 

He was slow and gentle, fully aware that this was no youkai woman who would inflame his passions by putting up a token resistance before becoming appropriately submissive. Rin's tender skin would never survive the roughest mating caresses, but his jyaki seemed to recognize her even as his arousal increased. He abruptly realized, with a heady sense of mastery, that he could control himself even in the bedchamber if he so chose.

 

Rin clutched Sesshomaru tightly as his kisses became deeply sensual, gasping slightly when he ran his tongue tip over her lips. He took the opportunity to delve inside her wet, slick mouth, to test the sharpness of her blunt `canine' teeth and he smiled against her lips when she followed his example, hesitantly exploring their differences with her tongue. The heat rose between them, and eager to feel her skin, he reached around her to tug on one of the trailing ends of her blue obi. When it refused to cooperate gracefully, Rin pulled slightly away from him to remove the pins holding the elaborate knot in place and then blushed as the material came loose in her hands, sending the sheathed knife clattering to the floor.

 

“My mother's gifts should be protected,” he murmured as he once again retrieved the weapon and drew her towards a kimono stand. However, his motivation wasn't entirely to preserve the rich material of her clothing from wrinkles; rather, it was because as she walked, the layers of rich fabric loosened and parted, allowing very enticing glimpses of her skin. Since her hands were full, she found it impossible to preserve her modesty at the same time.

 

Like a long-stemmed, pale golden lily…

 

As Rin stood in front of the kimono stand, the realization of exactly what she had to do in order to hang up her robes struck her, because she flushed deep pink and ducked her head in confusion. “M-my lord…?” Instead of answering, he stepped up behind her and tugged the layers of silk and linen from her shoulders until they hung off her elbows in rich folds. Taking advantage of her bared skin, he began nibbling along her shoulder, listening to her heart pound and her rapid breathing. Brushing her hair aside, he mouthed the nape of her neck, letting her feel his fang tips scrape her skin.

 

“Show me, Rin,” he murmured, blowing lightly on the moistened flesh and watching the answering goose bumps prickle her skin. She shivered but then obeyed, stepping forward to awkwardly slip free of one sleeve. Sesshomaru caught the layered fabric and slid it over one end of the horizontal pole. The young woman's blush travelled from her cheeks down her throat to diffuse over her chest, lending a lovely hue to her golden skin… and there was a rather luscious amount of it on display.

 

She clutched the obi to her breasts as she hesitantly shook herself free of the fabric, stepping away as Sesshomaru adjusted the garment so that it hung properly on the stand. Glancing at her from the corner of his eye, he noted that while she had shielded herself, she still appeared downright mortified. He snapped his fingers and made her jump. “Give me the obi.” Rin was definitely resourceful; she hastily dove under the quilts before tossing him the length of blue silk, robbing him of much more than a very brief glance of her feminine curves.

 

He made a leisurely production out of removing his own robes, dropping the garments into a pile beside the futon and then rolling his shoulders to show his slender physique to best advantage in the lamp-light. Rin's admiring eyes travelled up and down his frame, lingering where tapered stripes of dark red curved above the heavy silk just barely clinging to his narrow hips. “Can you undo this knot?” he asked, indicating the bowed sash securing his hakama. He was quite capable of releasing it himself even one-handed, but he rather enjoyed her wide-eyed response and the equal surge of nervous arousal emanating from her body.

 

Sesshomaru knelt on the side of the futon and waited; Rin finally swallowed hard and wriggled across the mattress to fumble awkwardly with the knot while remaining covered by the quilts as much as possible. That didn't work so well, and she soon had to sit up to wrestle with it, the concealing bedding falling away and giving him an unobstructed view of her jiggling breasts crowned by dusky peaks. Rin let out a small noise of satisfaction when the silk loosened, immediately followed by a startled squeak when his erection was fully revealed as his hakama slid down his thighs. Sesshomaru was thoroughly amused when she hastily retreated to the other side of the futon and ducked down under the quilts, clutching the bedding tightly over her head.

 

Stifling a smirk, he kicked his legs free of the garment before sliding under the quilts, then rolled onto his side and propped his chin on his palm to observe her. Dark eyes blinked up at him; he was reminded of a small animal peering out of its burrow.

 

Except rabbits don't blush quite so prettily when they are being hunted.

 

“You never shied away when you invaded my bed as a child,” he commented.

 

“You weren't naked, my lord,” she mumbled, her fingers flexing on the embroidered coverlet. “Neither was I.”

 

“How do you propose I make you a woman if I remain clothed?” he asked mischievously, arching a slender eyebrow.

 

Rin frowned. “I'm already an adult…”

 

“But not yet mated… and that is what we are here to accomplish.”

 

“You make it sound like a military campaign,” she grumbled, then yelped as she was yanked against his chest and kissed with bruising thoroughness.

 

“I intend to conquer you before dawn, so prepare to have your walls breached,” he growled, gently biting down on her lower lip with his fang and then soothing the nip with his tongue. Holding her in place with his arm curled around her shoulders, he had her firmly pinned beneath him in a heartbeat, then set to work investigating as much of her enticingly-scented skin as possible.

 

Rin lay very still, only her accelerating pulse and breathing giving any indication of her response to his touch. Sesshomaru noted her tension and left off kissing her throat and chest to regard her seriously. “Rin, did those old crones give you any information about mating?”

 

She averted her eyes and squirmed unhappily, which did absolutely nothing to decrease his arousal where it pressed into her thigh. “They said when I was betrothed, they would tell me…”

 

Muttering an oath under his breath, Sesshomaru rolled off her and up onto his knees, caught hold of her arm and urged her to do the same. He adjusted the wick on the oil lamp for the maximum of light and then turned back to where she knelt, as still as a statue. Settling himself so that their knees touched, he studied her for a moment before reaching to tuck loose strands of dark hair behind her ears and over her shoulders, flicking the rosebud into the pile of his robes.

 

The touch of his fingertips and claws again caused goose bumps, but Rin did not move. Her hands were folded in her lap and her eyes were riveted on his face, watching the shades of light and dark ripple through his gaze. She was highly aware of his touch as he stroked down her arm, along her thigh and back up to trace along her collarbone and repeat the caress down the other side of her body. The back of his hand lightly brushed against her breasts each time he caressingly stroked up and down her arms; the dark tips hardened, beckoning to him.

 

Leaning in, he kissed her gently on the mouth at the same time as he cupped her breast, testing the weight, moulding it in his palm before running the pad of his thumb over her nipple, smiling as she jerked and gasped. Deepening the kiss, he waited until her fingers came to rest on his shoulders and her knees spread a little before grasping her wrist and bringing her hand to cup her other breast. Returning to his own ministrations of her supple flesh he purred, “Touch yourself for me…” and was pleased with her hesitant obedience.

 

When Sesshomaru moved down her throat to kiss her swelling mounds and then took her hard peak in his mouth, he had to quickly brace her with his arm because she arched her back so violently that she would have gone over backwards… which wouldn't have been a bad idea, except it didn't figure into his plans just yet. Again, he waited until her thighs spread even wider as she instinctively tried to preserve her balance, which allowed the heady scent of her arousal to warm the air between them. Once he was sure she wouldn't tip over until he wanted her to and her fingers threaded into his hair to pull him back to her breast, he trailed his hand down her back, over her hip and rested it on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

 

Rin gasped and stiffened a little so he kept at her breasts, moving over to lick at the nipple circled by her own fingers, encouraging her to keep caressing herself. When a little ripple passed over her skin and she threw her head back, exposing her throat to him, he carefully slid his hand up her soft thigh and used his knuckle to rub over the sensitive bundle of nerves hidden in her slick folds. Rin jolted and yipped, grabbing his wrist in her surprise.

 

She was not prepared for the growl nor the nip to her breast, and even less for the calculating look he flashed at her. Without further ado, he tipped her onto her back and dove down between her open thighs, tasting deeply of her wet folds. Rin froze for a second and then attempted to squirm away, which only earned her another warning growl… and the vibration of his lips and tongue on her most sensitive flesh made the breath catch in her throat and her limbs weak. “M-my lord…?”

 

“Mmm-hmm?” he rumbled back, and her nipples hardened anew as tingling currents shot up and down her spine.

 

“I-is this… p-proper? I mean… oooh!” Her thoughts scrambled when his tongue slid deeper and she instinctively thrust up her hips to keep the contact. She could have sworn she heard him laugh, but the vibrations made her whimper and gasp and try to hold him there as her belly coiled in a way she'd never felt just from touching herself.

 

Sesshomaru shifted under her hands, and she growled her own complaint when his mouth left her to trace moist paths up her body, but when he lingered over her breasts and she found herself mindlessly rubbing her sensitized flesh against the hard muscles of his belly, she forgot her concerns as the coil of pleasure inside her tightened into a hard twist. When he lifted himself away, she had barely formed a protest when something hard and sleek came to rest against her throbbing flesh. Her eyes flew open as he rose above her on his one arm, silver spilling over his shoulders and framing his lean, taut body, but then she stared at the dark tip of his silver-framed erection as it nestled between her folds.

 

“Touch me,” he purred, and she was transfixed by the flush turning his cheek stripes a darker shade of red as surely as the slow, sensual glide of his hard member over her bundle of nerves made her body quiver. Running one hand over his chest to rub his flat nipples until they beaded under her fingertips, she slid the other down to cup his erection and quickly discovered the mind-blowing sensations possible as he rubbed himself harder against her hot, wet flesh. Rin groaned and arched her back, losing herself, her toes curling as her body tightened even more...

 

When the hot coil of pleasure snapped and she cried out, Sesshomaru admired her for a moment, her eyes hazy, her cheeks flushed, her dark hair thoroughly disarrayed over the pale bedding before sitting back on his heels. Gripping her hip, he lined himself up with her entrance and waited a moment longer until the rhythmic clenching of her muscles tapered off… and then took her in one swift thrust.

 

Rin cried out at his invasion, her body shuddering in shock even as it accommodated his length. Suddenly wide awake, she stared up at him. Sesshomaru's head was thrown back, his fangs bared in a pained expression, all of his muscles standing out in corded relief, his claws digging slightly into her hip. Oddly enough, that hurt more than the inner stretching and burning, and she whimpered.

 

His eyes snapped open then, and Rin gasped at the red haloing his yellow irises, his cheek stripes fraying… but then his jaw relaxed, his markings and eyes returning to normal before her stunned gaze. Sesshomaru withdrew his claws from her skin and bent towards her until he pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to her lips. Rin tasted herself in his mouth, and that previously-forbidden knowledge made her belly flutter and tighten all over again. “Are you ready?” he murmured, brushing her sweaty bangs away with gentle claws.

 

“I th-think so… r-ready for what…?” she asked breathlessly, and he groaned lightly in disgust as he dropped his forehead to her shoulder.

 

“Misguided old fools… you truly have no idea…?” Exhaling, he rolled his hips at the same time, and she winced a little at how filled she was, his weight stretching her muscles in ways they'd never been before. “Trust in me, beloved.” He settled back onto his knees, his silver hair sticking to his shoulders and his chest before trailing down to curl teasingly on her belly. She flinched a little at his first movements, but the pain dissipated as he set a gentle pace, and she began to enjoy the sensations of having him inside her.

 

A deep rumble began in his chest and Rin's hands were drawn to stroke his velvety skin as his hard muscles bunched and slid beneath it. Sesshomaru bit off a whine as she skimmed over his nipples, so she rubbed circles over the tight flesh until he was fairly groaning and shuddering as the sensations went straight to his groin. He picked up his pace, thrusting harder and faster until he had to again lean over her for fear of losing his balance, bracing his hand above her shoulder so her body wouldn't slide away under the force of his thrusts.

 

Rin was in awe of the sounds she wrung out of his throat and how her body… her `unsuitable' human body… was able to provide him so much obvious pleasure. When she draped her legs over his hips, taking him even deeper, he groaned and his movements became almost frantic until with a strangled shout he buried himself completely inside her. Sesshomaru collapsed on top of her, flattening her into the futon but not crushing her, his pulse hammering in her ear as he panted. Wondering if it was over, Rin let her legs relax, wincing again as her newly-stretched muscles complained loudly.

 

After a few moments, Sesshomaru lifted his hips and withdrew, then sat up with his back to her. Rin reached to run silver through her fingertips, but snatched her hand back when he shook himself and moved off the futon. She felt suddenly cold and exposed, and rolled onto her side, curling up into a ball. There were sounds of water being splashed that she wondered at, but she was consumed by fear that she had somehow displeased him.

 

A cool, wet sensation pressed against the juncture of her thighs made her jump and she flashed a startled look over her shoulder at his amused glance as he stroked the wet cloth over her skin. She might have relaxed under the gentle touch, but she quickly became even more chilled in contrast to the heated contact of their bodies. A cool hand urged her to straighten her limbs, and then the discarded quilts were drawn up around her shoulders. A few moments later, the lamp was extinguished and his warm weight slid into the bedding next to her.

 

Rin held her breath, wondering what would happen next, until his arm wrapped around her and drew her against his chest, his legs tangling with hers. “Sleep now, beloved; it is not long until dawn and we must face the consequences of our actions.”

 

“C-consequences…?” she asked, fear touching her scent.

 

He held her more closely, purring in contentment. “I believe there will be a disappointed young lordling…?”

 

“Oh! I forgot…” she blushed, and then wondered why he seemed highly amused before he kissed her, his long fingers tenderly cupping her face.

 

“You are now a woman, and mine, so do not ever forget the consequences of flower arranging in a male demon's room…”