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The Great Trial	By : WinterDovane Category: InuYasha > Yaoi - Male/Male > InuYasha/Sessh?maru > InuYasha/Sessh?maru Views: 22203 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha and Co nor do I make any money from this fic.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
This is as much for me as for the inu brothers. It's time to get going again.
XV: Movement
I
In the heart of the frozen forest, a peasant in plain kimono and hakama braves the icy winds and hauls a covered hand-cart behind him with surprising vigor. He has been travelling for days in the ice and snow, trekking across the island from the southern villages to the lands further north. Even though the path might be well worn from travelers across Japan, the ice give treacherous a whole new meaning and he has been travelling for what seems like a lifetime. His hands, squat but strong, have been numb for days and seem nearly frozen around the handles of his cart and are coarse from labor. Small icicles hang from his salt and pepper moustache to the tip of his impossibly long goatee and smack against his knees as he pulls with purpose. He doesn't even register the impossible cold and won't until late into the night when he finally stops to rest for a few hours.
The island may seem small compared to some empires, but in reality, travelling on foot will definitely give one perspective on how much land between kingdoms there really is. The span is unending when you're pulling a heavy hand cart over hills and through forests, over ponds and up the side of mountains. Not to mention how the next span of land might have any number of innocent peasants or villainous mercenaries—human or demon—lurking in every nook of forest, field, or mountain. How the two species can co-exist without an all-out civil war has always puzzled the peasant with the hand cart. Certainly the human out- number the demons, but the bakemono have power beyond the scope of human understanding. He eventually figured out the real reason, that while the demon world spanning the island might have some semblance of order , the human world is a mess of power-hungry mercenaries operating under the titles of ruler. Regardless of where one went, the ethical, powerful humans in command are few and far between. Even though the human emperor and some nobles attempted to maintain a semblance of honor in the treatment of the peasantry, the tyrants closer to the villages, coloring themselves as monarchs, have no such intentions. With men such as these, it is little wonder the peasants remain impoverished with high mortality rates and little hope for the future. Also, this disconnect allow the demon rulers to maintain more power and the demon subjects to terrorize at their leisure.
He, the one pulling the hand cart, has been in Nippon for over two decades, working hard labor and experiencing life outside his native home—one free of such monsters but with humans more like the corrupted daimyos than the peasant would like to admit. Initially, it had been hell the first few years, acclimating to the climate and people, for he was not accustomed to hard labor such as slaving in the rice paddy. Yet, over time, he had become a proud member of his small village; he had earned some respect from and gained a grudging amount for the people. It had been a long paddy to harvest during his time in this country and the peasantry painted a different picture than he'd once imagined in the homeland. Industrious and honorable, the majority he'd known were truly those of worth.
And yet...the burden in the cart behind him was his duty. He could not look back now.
His breath puffs out in small clouds as he glances at the stars to calculate where he is and which way he needs to go. For the first time since starting out early this morning, he allows the cart to come to rest and the heavy burden rests on the back two wheels that groan in protest. The night sky plots out his position and the long miles he has yet to go. The endless stretch of night looms in front of him, a profound sign for a simple being such as he. Back in his homeland, he cared little for deep thoughts or straying from the path of battle, like many of his kinsman and ancestors before him—the man he was only craved conquest. Living among these people may have softened his cold heart but has not changed his principles. He was and still is a man with an ultimate goal, and the heavy burden behind him is simply the means to a long-awaited end.
With a shift in stance, his feet coverings crunched in the snow but his extremities under the hide are numb to anything except ache from the hard journey. He will build a small fire, covered by the thick forest canopy, rest for a few hours, and soon begin again.
II
A place like the Western palace is accustomed to heavy traffic; from maids and servants scurrying to see to the daily running of the castle's affairs to visiting diplomats, politicians, and other royalty, the palace is constantly full of visitors. The nature of ruling a kingdom is the man/demon-powered needed to keep everything running. Even the several smaller villages, merchants, artisans, and farmer's alike, lying half a day's walk in the shadow of the grandiose castle received more than their fair share of business due to the castle's constant pace. The economy was good, which is why four villages kept up a constant bazaar of vendors willing and eager to offer their finest wares for travelers. Fat, ruddy children ran about in play or skipping lessons and remain proof of their parents' prosperity. All in all, the monarchy treated them well.
So business as usual; servants and cooks from the castle visiting for meats, furs, and other wares or just to visit the villagers themselves. It seems the West is beginning to return to normal day-to-day activity… Except, three days after the soldiers returned victorious, an extraordinary number of travelers emerge from all directions, passing through the villages to head directly for the palace itself. Caravans, wagons, flying carriages, beasts of a wide range have been steadily trickling through in groups. The more impressive parties travel in opulent style with lavish wagons covered in expensive silks baring the crest of their honored houses. Their benches are padded while advisors and servants march beside the procession. The workers and merchants bow lower at the nobility, trying to entice the wealthy into pausing long enough to spend some coin on wares or snacks. Many that catch the numerous booths or smell the wickedly delicious scents of cooking meat, seasoned fish, or freshly-baked bread halt their progress to partake of the goodies and stand to observe the impressive array of merchandise.
While the villagers may be in heaven, the advisors to the Western lord are in hell! Not only are they monitoring intelligence from all their spies, dragon fliers, messanges from the other lords, and waiting for word of survivors to crop up so a portion of the returned soldiers could be immobilized for battle yet again. However, even with these every-day activates in the life of running a massive kingdom, the returned army has also finally settled back into the normal routines, assuring the Western Palace as well-protected. However, the easy-pace of staff, residents, and visitors become a flurry of activity to house, feed, and tend to the mad surge of guests upon the palace. Less than three days had seen the palace settle down from the activities of war and those returning soldiers return to their usual duties when the mass began arriving, slowly at first. Noblemen close to the house of Taisho brought their families and personal servants at first (a few in fear they were no longer in the lord's favorites since none had received invitations for the youngest prince's inauguration! Certainly there has to be a celebration for the lords' victorious return...?).
Following had been political allies, heralds, and eventually messengers from the lord's elder brother and other distant kin to prepare for their arrival. The Lady Arikura's family was well on their way in her flying palace and in their own transportation to gather—ready to meet the prodigal son of Taisho. Since the inu youkai on the lord's mother's side would be arriving within days, the housemaids are in a panic to get the family wings presentable for royalty. For the first time in four centuries, the family chambers would be in full use and thus the many rooms needed to be aired out, dusted, beds re-made with fresh linens, and prepared to the taste of each family member—on top of normal chores and caring for the ever-increasing arrivals. The maids and maintenance pull double-time behind the scenes of the castle.
It seems half the island decided to migrate to the West without even a whisper of Lord InuYasha taking up the duties of his station after the impressive victory. Just the fact that the duo had joined forces to protect the land is apparently enough motivation to get the nobility talking!
However, a straight answer on the hanyou's impending status is kept vague by the lord's advisors and servants (who, in all reality, have no information about the younger lord's declaration of birthright since neither prince had left instructions to prepare a celebration). The castle's occupants are cleverly ambiguous about the younger lord, his past, and the single day he spent in the palace thus far. Rather than cause the West any embarrassment in the face of such important personage or shame their lord by seeming ignorant, the servants remain cheerful and eager to please their guests as well as welcome all newcomers without giving away too much information. This loyalty spoke of the honor of the house as well as the fairness of the ruling body; few other houses had such devotion.
Kenshin and Yao hadn't had to say a word about Lord InuYasha's status in the West nor had instructed the staff on what to answer; both assumed, without their lords in attendance, the servants would say nothing but praise. They had good people in the West; ones dedicated to the family for generations and had raised their children to be loyal as well. However, even with their team effort, the two advisors are busier than they have been since Touga had been alive.
The last time the West hosted such a huge event, it was Sesshomaru's return, and even then, the pup's reputation scared many of the nobility into staying home. It seems the deeds of a certain hanyou had earned the admiration (or curiosity at the very least) of the upper class as well as the many that claimed to be friends or past allies—and as of this morning, a dragon rider spotted the two lords about a day's run to the south-east. Hopefully the lords would make somewhat haste returning (the two advisors could only hope) since the visitors are getting restless with wanting to see the famed half-demon, just like Taisho in his approachable demeanor. Plus, the negative aspect to this many politicians gathering in one place—disagreements, bribery, brawls, utter destruction, and broken treaties always hover in the air to make matters more tense. Only the elder lord's presence could eliminate the majority of the corruption and violence. Reason enough to celebrate for the over-worked and somewhat harried advisors and staff.
Once the first few groups of visitors began talking about the celebration for the returning lords, Yao discreetly began getting preparations started for a welcome-home gala at the very least and Kenshin re-directed more soldiers to necessary posts around the palace as well as stationing more in the surrounding villages to form a barrier further from the main gates. Already had the head maid, Hikari, a no-nonsense lynx with huge circlet of keys at her waist, humbly approached Yao about hiring a few village girls for extra help, after all the banners baring the house of Taisho needed to be aired out and cleaned, food needed to be gathered from far and wide, more proper uniforms for servants needed to be taken out of storage, mended and cleaned, and invitations for other nobility needed to be made (simply to wait on the lord's desk until he returned). With her daunting list, Yao waved her off with confirmation. Meanwhile, Kenshin began with the prisoners that needed to be questioned as well as maintained communication with the other lords to test the still-constant threat of invasion. What perfect time to target the enemy than during a celebration?
Yet, it seemed that many "friends" of the hanyou lord would certainly keep any possible threat to a minimum. The odd assortment of demons, hanyous, and humans gave color to the stogy dinners in the great hall with stories of previous battles and victories of the soon-to-be Prince of the West. Of course Lord Kouga and a handful of his wolves, the kit Shippo, and Myoga the flea demon are among the hanyou's allies, but those that had been helped by the hanyou along his lifetime had also come to see InuYasha finally get his due. The youngest, a lynx demon named Bunza, reminisced with Totosai about his training upon the craggy rock of the swordsmith's home, but the older demon kept trying to eat without the chatter or necessarily drawing too much attention to himself with all the noble brats around (since he'd forged the Tetsuaiga, damn snobs had been darkening his doorstep for a powerful weapon of their own. Too bad for them. Each and every newcomer to the weapon's maker got his normal lecture, not only about the necessary materials needed to forge but also the strength and heart of the wielder since his swords chose their master. Easiest way to keep 'em off his back.).
Even more, the army of the West is back in force, rested and ready for orders.
Aware of the excess of flurry, influx of visitors, and basically a mad cap of crap going on around him, Shippo pulls away from the activity and entertainments and keeps to himself. Other than a little mischief here and there (poor Kouga, the smell of feminine hygiene products from the last trick will never come out of his tail), he's been fairly hidden away from the bustle. Sure, his oddly sweet-smelling wolf companion could go to fights, teas, and the like, he was the son of the Northern lord, after all, but Shippo has had very little interaction with the upper echelons of demon society. With the scent of humans around him from his time from Miroku and Sango, he prefers to eat in his room and wander the forgotten corridors of the castle where few guards are posted and fewer people are about. He manages to see more of how the immense structure is laid out and where to find the best gardens to practice his fox magic without worrying about damaging something expensive.
Of course, he also found his way back to the training room that smells of Lord Sesshomaru and the deceased Inu no Taisho. He had kept a keen eye to the changing of the guards, figured out their schedules, and disguised himself to slip past when he needed to. Well, maybe he just changed shape to look like a guard in armor, but no one was the wiser and he wasn't snooping or anything, just going into one room in the family wing.
He could see why Lord Sesshomaru's scent is stronger here than anywhere else in the palace because, well, he liked it too. As long as he didn't get caught, no harm done.
Besides, he's healed up fine and working the kinks out of his elbow was necessary if he was going to start training with another weapon any time soon (other than regular old fox magic, of course). Not something he could learn at school, Shippo had already asked Sango to consider taking him on in weapons training after she gives birth from the next child. For the time being, he would just strengthen himself, mind and body. Not like he had to worry about anyone coming to look for him; the fox is, as he has been for the last five years, on his own.
III
Meanwhile, the dog-eared hanyou takes comfort in movement. He and Sesshomaru have been moving non-stop for the last two days, partially for his sake, but also because his snooty brother was apparently nosy as shit. The lanky bastard would pause at so many intervals, standing at the highest point (wherever it happened to be) and let his senses spread out—looking for more of those damn foreigners. Giving that disgusted expression a raised brow before the lord took off in the direction he smelled trouble, the hanyou couldn't help but wonder if there was more Sesshomaru wasn't telling him about these guys. They'd already come across a few bands wandering around the forest, lost as fuck. Of course, BATTLE! He revels in the fight, not because he's a natural brawler (he certainly is, fuck you very much), but so his new senses and youkai can stretch out. He attempts to feel out this new him—to concentrate on the different power flowing through his half-breed veins. The possibilities seem to expand when he holds out Tetsuaiga's blade flat and the explosion of gold power flares out like a fan, not a huge, awe-inspiring burst like the Wind Scar, but a blow meant for closer quarters. It's, well, pretty neat considering Iron Reaver cut through 'em in the messiest fuck-all and the Blades of Blood needed too much of his own life fluid to work consistently. His more close quarters included up-close-and-personal hand-to-hand brawling or sword play. Something different like using Tetsuaiga and his altered youkai together was something so cool, he couldn't help but be impressed with himself. All-in-all, his enhanced awareness and power infusion are making him one bad-ass hanyou. Coming of age has its merits.
Just being the two of them, they didn't take any prisoners, but that many groups this far from the shore line still makes the hanyou suspicious. No way this many shitheads shoulda made it past the army, so something was definitely up and his brother didn't seemed surprised in the slightest to find more foreigners wandering about, and the tight-lipped bastard had only given him a half-assed shrug when he asked what else was going on here. Only after their skirmishes did the elder inu simply say more intelligence would be at the Western Palace. So, for the night they camped and the next day they'd be right on time to hang out in the palace before possibly heading out to spy along the country side. At least, the hanyou figured he'd give a quick wave to Shippo and the wolf, then head off to do a little spying of his own—not that he was sure Sesshomaru would give a fuck.
And so, night fell and their small fire throws shadow warrior in the field around them, the light dancing off silver hair. It was nice to have someone else do the hunting and eat with as the two inus chowed down on the boar chased with smoked fish. After their stomachs settled, the demon lord gives his brother a droll glance and stands effortlessly, walking further into the clearing out of the boundary of the fire. Buckles are undone and catches released as the expensive trapping of a daiyoukai are removed. Slowly, the demon lord set aside his armor and Bakusaiga, leaving only Tenseiga sheathed in his obi. A light pahhh and the fluffy tail is sealed away while the demon lord seems to gather his long hair together and bind it away from his face.
Stupidly, the hanyou just stares. Sure, he's seen his brother without any clothing (for three whole days!) but the hanyou has never seen him more naked than without all that hair framing his face. The style made his icy sibling seem younger, reminiscent of the blurry image of their father than appeared once after Sou'ungs was defeated all the way back to Hell.
A haughty brow lifts and the hanyou realizes he is not only standing but also staring. Obviously staring.
"Y-you look like him," he covers his ass gruffly, fiddling with the ties on his suikan's sleeves.
"Hn. Incorrect. You, brother, are closer to his incarnation," the demon lord taps the moon on his forehead for emphasis. Moving further, Sesshomaru pulls the Tenseiga, back to the hanyou, and falls smoothly into first position, high block. His arms are perfect width apart but conscious effort automatically straightens the natural kink in the back of his left knee—phantom pain always reminds him of a bokken or the flat of steel smacking the knee to demonstrate the weakness in his stance. He tightens the muscle in old anticipation and moves seamlessly into the next position. A twitch behind, an interruption in the flow of youkai, of movement. The daiyoukai, face hidden by his upturned arm, cracks a rare smile and dips with fluid grace for the upward thrust of next position. Red flutters at the corner of his peripheral.
Like a moth to the flame, or an inu to a bone, the hanyou's eyes are hungry for each stance; he is intrigued by having time to actually observe the style of his most formidable foe, the one he has not yet beaten. But, he's never had time to see each movement plain as day instead of with that crazy speed. Sure, he'd been fighting with Tetsuaiga for seven years, through all kinds of nasty fuckers, broken blades, new attacks, new weight, and loss of friends. No more distractions from his pack to keep the enemy off- balance until he could fire off the ending strike. Actually, for a while, Tetsuaiga was all he had in the world, friend or foe. With that mindset, he's been working on stuff like technique, positions and other crap like in his time alone ('cause in some small part of his heart, before the bluster and fearlessness became his mask, the hanyou InuYasha wanted to be as fast and powerful as his cold older brother). He might have had to perch in a tree above some human samurai or near a midget training sessions to learn some of the fancy moves, but he could observe the positions and style as well as soaking up the critiques all students get. On his own, he tried mimicking the human way of the sword since there was nooooo way he'd be able to get close enough to watch a demon army without being sniffed out. But, what those humans could do, even the best they've got, couldn't hold a candle to how deadly the Lord of the West could make a blade.
When Sesshomaru began, twisting his ankles before moving into a pre-set position, the hanyou knew something was going down. His ears automatically perked as he recognized the stiff way his brother hefted the Tenseiga as the blow before death, the upward strike he'd only seen once and happened to survive. His mind flashes back to the coldest, most disdainful but determined look that came across his brother's face when Tokijin was hefted up and ready to impale him with finality. Twitch. Sesshomaru turns in the moment, jarring the hanyou to go for Tetsuaiga's hilt on instinct, but his brother's graceful attack swings around and the two are facing one another from a few feet apart, and the demon InuYasha is looking at in the now is not the same one at all. He breathes out, watching the perfect line from tip of Tenseiga down the arm and up to the next. One leg stretches out to the side while the tip is perilously close to the hanyou with the long arm and even longer blade, Sesshomaru's balance is precise on the soles of his boots.
With the fang a comforting weight, he hefts the weight with more precision than power, making his muscles lock into place. After a breath, graceful slide, change of the wrist upward slash; a certain way he uses his wrist and arm makes this a cut-through-anything move; only a second still to give InuYasha time to see the full picture before the next, defensive low, and the red trails his vision as the younger inu follows with a different gaze—an older one, sharp and calculating to absorb every muscle, every twitch. This is the older hanyou the demon lord picked up from the forest less than a fortnight ago—all the false bravado in his body couldn't hide years of torment and solitude.
With the last position, the demon lord sweeps the sword around to its' sheath and brings his feet together. He bows, actually bows, with eyes never leaving the hanyou.
Not one to be silent long, InuYasha's tongue starts wagging, "I've seen moves reeeal close to that from humans and stuff, but that style is different. The way you held your arms away from your body, and that swivel was wide. What do ya' call it, Sessho?"
Sessho…Hn. The demon lord calmly, instinctively caresses the hilt of the Sword of Heaven and physically steps out of the invisible circle that contained his progression, shaking off the feel of his father's ghost behind him.
"This style is one our father adapted once the Tetsuaiga was forged, soon after he met and mated Lady Izayoi. It is similar to the demon sword fighting techniques in general, but our sire had to alter his style for a fang twice the size and width of his other blades."
Blown away, the hanyou's eyes widen and both ears perk, "yer serious? He came up with a style just fer Tetsuaiga?" The hanyou moves to stand beside his brother, a foot apart, and pulls the sword without a transformation. Beside him, Sesshomaru gives a single nod, he pulls the Tensaiga and positions himself in the rudimentary pose.
"No offense 'er nothin' but…how come you know it? I mean you couldn't even touch it until recently, right? It used to shock the shit outta you." Watching the demon lord, InuYasha moves slowly to the second position and freezes, making sure he is doing it right. The flat of Tensaiga smacks the back of his left knee, making him wobble for a second. His heel digs in, making the back of the knee stronger.
Even through the night, Sesshomaru's eyes shine slightly with amusement. "And do you truly think it has always been as such?" His tone is mild but still a question. "Do you not believe I wished to protect your mother after his demise when other demons came for her life and yours?" Oh yes, he had wielded the Tetsuaiga in the initial days following the Taisho's death—deterring all those that sought his little brother's life…a valid reason why his rule was never questioned and only few came to fight him for the Western throne. His utter lack of mercy made others truly fear him, perhaps more than they feared the Taisho.
Next position. Both demons move.
"B-but the black pearl…" the hanyou whispers while his arm is slightly tilted higher.
"Put there after you and your mother were forced from our home."
"Then—you always knew it was there."
"No. I only gave the fang to Totosai with instructions to hide it until the day you were prepared to claim it."
"…"
Again, this side of Sesshomaru makes the pang in InuYasha's heart thump with regret at all the pre-conceived notions of their past. How he wished things could have been different between them…
"And you have proven how much you have earned the honor of wielding this fang. Now, we shall hone your skill to be even more fierce than ever before."
The flutter of anticipation makes the hanyou's grin gleam through the darkness.
IV
Tanku gives his signature goofy smile while checking the healing injury of Advisor Xin's prisoner, the female with the strange and sad eyes. He is aware the female and her brother-in-arms don't speak the language but incessant chatter seems to soothe their hackles, whether they understand what he's saying or not.
For the past few days, he's come down to do what he can for the chained prisoners. He's helped bring sparse supplies, food, and maybe even some comfort. Sure, he might be young, but as a demon, the raccoon has seen and been in war since he was just a youngling—only shortly weaned when his parents were killed right in front of him. He knows more about war than Healer Kenshin thinks…and what this young raccoon knows better than anything else is that sometimes, the enemies have no choice but to fight. Sometimes, it's all about survival and not necessarily about what one believes in.
"There we are!" Chipper as always, the young healer finishes the wrap for the young female and adjusts so he doesn't sit on his tail. The two are looking at him warily as he bring out three small loaves of bread, offering the food while he hungrily bites into the third—shrewdly realizing if he's eating it, they would be less suspicious of poison.
The male takes both loaves, sniffs them, and finally hands one to his sister. Silently, the three share an quite meal.
Finally, the female claps her hands together and bows her head, "a-ari-ga-to."
Delighted, the raccoon bows his head back, "anytime! I'm glad your wound is healing well. Hopefully, your people will petition for your release or something." He adjusts his pack and stands, the signal he is leaving them until tomorrow. "Just don't cause any trouble and you won't be treated too harshly, okay? I'll see you again tomorrow."
The two watch him leave, finally alone again. As the other healers also leave the prisoners to their own, the conversations start up again, many of the prisoners dejected at their incarceration. Badzar and Saranagerel exchange a look as one of their generals jingles his shackles for attention.
"The others are moving into place. It has been five moons since we have been separated and we will not have much longer to wait for our Khan to come to our rescue. We will bide our time and be ready."
The soldiers perk up a bit but unease is obvious throughout the dungeon.
"Who is to say our forces are still out there and haven't also been captured?"
"Or our Khan killed?"
"Maybe they raided a few villages and went home with the spoils."
"They could all be dead for what we know."
"This palace is a fortress of rock, how do we know they will be able to get through to free us?"
The general barks loudly, angrily, "SILENCE!"
Gathering himself, the older Mongolian snarls at the men's cowardice, "are you not men? Warriors of the highest rank? Were we not entrusted with this mission? Are we not here for a higher purpose? Cowards, all of you! To doubt our Khan like this, I am ashamed to be here with you."
Like a true believer, the general's words pour a soothing balm of belief over the downtrodden soldiers.
"Our Khan is brilliant in his plan. We will succeed where our Father and Grandfathers have failed. We will finish what they have started. We will win the day!"
Morale somewhat lifted, the general goes through the paces of the master plan quietly while the prisoners are left to their own devices, the intricacies again heartening the men that were despairing earlier.
Badzar, like a good soldier, listens dutifully. His sister, however, looks away.
"What is it you are thinking?" He whispers softly.
"…" Her eyes meet his and dart away.
"Do not believe what our traitorous sire tells you, sister. The Western Lord may be mighty, but we are also formidable. This plan will work."
Quietly, Saranagerel scoffs, "is that honestly what you believe worries me, brother? Do you truly have no heart for him? The man that created us?" Her eyes are suddenly angry, "he was abandoned by our people, left here to rot. If he would have returned, he would have been killed by the others for not dying during battle. Little wonder he stayed."
Furiously, Badzar's hand clamps down on her forearm, "do not let your feminine sentiments sway you from our mission, sister! That—that traitor means nothing to me. Nothing. He left us, sister, and our siblings. Our only allegiance is to our Khan now. Not him."
She swore, low and rough, surprising her brother with profanity. "It seems you are a fool, brother mine, to think the Khan cares about us enough to rescues us from this hell. He is no family to us. That man is our blood and you shame me for denying him so." She snatches her arm back and turns away from him to stare out of the barred window.
"He is the one that put us in chains, Saranagerel! We cannot make fire or water come to our command because of him."
"He didn't make us attack him either," she hisses over her shoulder.
"I should have never brought you along,"
"I should have succeeded in drowning you in the wash water when we were children!"
"…you don't mean that. But surely you can see we have no other options than to stay with our own people and finish what we have started. That man may be on our side, but those he serves are not—they will kill us if they can."
He's right, a small voice in her mind agrees. We are outsiders in a strange land.
"Sister, these men raised us, taught us, stayed with us. How can we think of betraying them?" Voice softer now, Badzar looks ahead, hiding his own pain at the mention of his sire. "We owe them our loyalty if nothing else."
She sighs and brings her knees up to rest her weary head upon, "brother, I do not see how this will end for us and our people."
"Nor do I, sister, but I will be true to our cause until the end. It is all I know," the young warrior also sounds weary. "Other than that, I will protect you, sister mine. All we have here are each other."
Gently, he puts a hand to her shoulder and the stiff back eases a bit until she is leaning against him. Both take comfort in each other, listening to the others rail around them. Soon, the lords of the land would return and a celebration of their victory would commence. From there, the Khan's long standing plan would snap into action and the true battle would begin…
V
And fucking finally, the palace is in view.
To the gathered mass outside the gates of the West, the demon lords finally break over the horizon. The dragon riders had spotted the two moving close just a few hours ago and returned from their rounds to alert the advisor that the massive white dog was rampaging through the countryside. The palace erupts in orders, scurrying, reports to the royal family and politicians to prepare for the lord's arrival. Everyone in the palace surged out to meet the returning rulers.
The massive white dog lifts his snowy head in time with the hanyou to release a victorious howl, a vindicating call. At that battle cry, the Westerners gathered outside raise their hands to cheer. Mostly, the loyal servants and villagers cry out with pride, but some of the aristocracy merely looks on.
At the head of the gathering, cold and calm Lady Arikura gives a sniff of disdain at the barbaric display—to her chagrin, a cry echoes from her back as Katsuo releases a throaty howl, startling her into a moment of fright.
Across the field, the huge dog huffs, rolling his red eyes at his elder brother's barbarism (he, as Lord, is required and expected to do such distasteful maneuvers). He gives a chuff as InuYasha rolls out with a full belly laugh and takes off at a rolling run, huge muscles working in graceful synch. The closer the two come, the louder the people cheer to show their support and more wildly the banners of the House of Taisho flare from the tops of the battlements.
The massive dog pauses before the carpets rolled out for them, head high. Another huff as Yao, flanked by three lesser advisors (while Kenshin voted, as usual, to ignore the pomp and ceremony and stay in the dungeons, checking on prisoners), comes striding right beside the royal carpet. All fall in a low bow to their lords, returned safely and victorious. Brothers united.
"My Lords! The West welcomes you home!"
More cheering again as Sesshomaru dips his muzzle down for InuYasha to jump down, Tetsuaiga resting on his hip, mane windblown, ruddy with health, and a picture of the young Inu no Taisho with puppy ears twitching in the wind. The hanyou gives a cheeky grin regardless of the scrutinizing glances and whispers coming from the visiting nobility (since this is, after all, their first real look of the Inu no Taisho's half-breed!). All the crap is nothing new, and he could probably give a lesser shit about them, but…probably not. InuYasha simply lifts a hand to Xin,
"Oi! Looks like we got back in time for a helluva party. Hope there's gonna be some good food 'cause I'm hungry as fuck for something other than what I can catch n cook over a fire."
A hale chuckle tackles the advisor from behind, a blessing considering he's been in a foul mood since his children have come to Nippon. "I am certain the West will have something to appease your appetite, Lord InuYasha."
In the blink of an eye, the huge dog shrinks in a burst of white light, and the demon lord is just suddenly in his bi-ped form, completely unruffled with full trappings on display and not a hair out of place. His usual mask of indifference in place, Sesshomaru is calm, undisturbed by the mass surround them on all sides. He scents the presence of his mother's kin as well as the cousins from father's family; along with InuYasha's familiar wood and spice, he feels oddly peaceful.
"As always, Xin, my brother demands sustenance after a long journey. I trust you have everything well in hand?"
"Of course, sire. It seems many have gathered to celebrate our victory over the invaders." A meaningful glance is traded nonchalantly between the two, the innuendo not lost on the demon lord.
"As is proper to welcome the Lords of the West. Gratefully, this Sesshomaru has your skills at his command."
"As is my pleasure, my lord," the advisor bows low again and the rest of the mass follows suit. Even Lady Arikura bows to her son and his half sibling.
Glancing around, InuYasha folds his hands in his sleeve, about to make a smart remark about all the bowing and scraping when there is an obvious tug on his long sleeve. With a blink, he glances down at the tiny, white-haired child standing just below his elbow, looking back up at him with wide golden eyes. A child's sucker is hanging out of the corner of her mouth and she pulls the sleeve closer to her nose, inhaling deep before looking back up at him.
In turn, the hanyou sniffs at her, catching the scent of inu.
"Hn. It is Katsuo's youngest," Sesshomaru stands closer, also looking down at the child.
"Oi, kid. What're ya sniffing me for?" The hanyou actually crouches down to put them eye to eye. She gives him a knowing glance and holds on to his sleeve. "Ah, I getcha. I don't smell like other inus or humans." He gives a shrug to the inquisitive look, "I'm made of both, see? So I smell like both."
The child's eyebrows squish together and then clear as she gives a nod in understanding and then those eyes go up to a new target for her attention.
Said targets immediately shift back in his hair; he knows that look in the kid's eye, that twinkle of mischief. Grubby, dirty little fingers pulling, tugging, twisting his sensitive ears…
"Don't even think about it, runt. No one touches the ears." He gave her the evil eye, ears flat, "'sides, we need to find yer ka-san or something."
"Brother," Sesshomaru's voice above but when the hanyou glances up, he realizes the demon lord isn't talking to him. In fact, the bastard is looking out at a taller male in the crowd. The inu comes out on to the carpet, looking almost like Sesshomaru's fricking twin, all lanky and graceful with the half-moon on his forehead, spiky armor, and a fluffy thing. The only difference is his hair gathered in a neat tail…at least on the outside. When the male meets the demon lord's gaze, his serious expression melt away and his face splits in a wide grin, sparkling with genuine mirth. The taller inu even bring up a hand and claps Sesshomaru heartily on the shoulder.
"You look the same, little brother! All stiff and formal. You should relax some time or you'll be a stodgy old dog like Mother." And this guy laughs, actually laughs at the old bitch (who is fuming from not far away).
"Hn, as always, Katsuo, your temperament is…a refreshing change."
The older inu chorts, "don't hurt yourself trying to be nice, little brother," before he turns to the crouching hanyou and something in his gold eyes softens, causing crinkles at the corners. "InuYasha," he breathes, giving the hanyou a once-over.
Rising to his full height, the hanyou gives a glance at Sesshomaru's stone face before getting a good whiff of this Katsuo guy. Smells like Sesshomaru and the old bitch, so not his sibling per say…?
Gruffly, the hanyou gives a nod, "that's me."
"Brother!" The demon's eyes get a little watery and he strides upon the hanyou quickly, ignoring the step back in surprised retreat. Huge, long arms wrap around InuYasha in a tight embrace, pressing his cheek against the warmth of this inu's shoulder instead of the armor's hard plate. His nose is obscured by the scents of the long tail of hair just over the inu's shoulder. His ears, now standing up with his surprise, flick when the warm air of breath brushes over them,
"How very honored I am to welcome you to our family, little brother."
Twitch. His claws bite into the soft meat of his palms, keeping him from being shaken by these very sincere words—words that are wobbly from this inu's mouth. The male seems like he is trying to keep himself together as well as he finally let InuYash at arm's length but keeping his biceps in a grip. The smile is softer, making his face strange considering how he resembled Sesshomaru and Arikura.
"I am Katsuo, InuYasha, Sesshomaru's half-brother, and ruler over the Inu Lands," a tug on his sleeve reminds the lord of his youngest pup looking up at him. He releases the hanyou to look down at her, not noticing InuYasha backs up almost into Sesshomaru. But, the inu's attention has is taken by the tiny addition to his brood. Her little face pulled in a frown, she waits patiently for her father's attention before lifting up her arms to be carried. "Ah, precious one, your ka-san will have both our hides if you don't stop running off."
The child easily ignores her chichue to look back at the hanyou,"It seems you've met my youngest, Emiko."
The toddler blinks up at the ears again and the twitching triangles slide meaningfully back in his hair.
To cover up the strangely embarrassing warmth in his gut, InuYasha merely gives a nod.
"There will be time during the evening meal for InuYasha to become more acclimated to the extended family. It has, however, been a tedious trip and time to refresh ourselves is necessary." Smoothly, Sesshomaru steps up beside the uncomfortable hanyou, giving the younger inu time to actually glance around at how many other silver-haired demons are a part of "the family."
"Of course," Katsuo's voice softens as the toddler in his arms lays her head against his shoulder, obviously practiced in ignoring the deadly spikes. "Hopefully, we will have time to speak during dinner, little brother."
"My time ain't that valuable, so not a big deal," his cheeks pink, the hanyou is at a loss for what else to say to this kind male. One of the few demons that has ever treated him with any decency.
The older inu chuckles again, those eyes softening in recognition. "Any time you have for me will be precious indeed."
"Keh,"
"Hn. You will not think such after half of day of Katsuo's ramblings over his brood." Sesshomaru, ignoring Arikura's obvious step closer to the royal carpet in an attempt to gain his attention, turns with a "come, InuYasha" over his shoulder. The hanyou gives a little wave and turns, following over his brother's left shoulder. He's so caught up looking around at the bowing nobles and servants closely that he doesn't notice Sesshomaru's subtle shift and is suddenly beside his older brother while entering the yawing gates of the Western Palace.
A/N:
It's been a while, ne? This chapter is short, I know, but it is just what the title implies, a start to get me moving again. Took on a new job, one that is unfortunately draining, and I honestly couldn't even think about writing my first few weeks—the mental strain was more intense than I thought it would be . Then, shocking news. I'm pregnant. My significant other had cancer in 2005 and his chances of having children were about 10%, so we're still in a state of shock. For a while, I just considered letting this fic get washed into the last pages of the website and be lost, but a conversation with myself one night just kind of spurned me into moving again.
I was washing dishes late one night when I had this figurative re-set. Standing at the sink one night, a sudden and strange cold wind blew across the kitchen and the pressure of youkai filled the small room; our favorite hanyou felt the need to come for a visit. Arms crossed, ears twitching, and that newly-matured expression from the story made him more real than my imagination ever could; it seems the damn well opened up somehow and let the hanyou visit me himself. The imagined conversation went something like this:
"I didn't expect you to come all the way here," plates first.
Snuffling as if the inu clears his nose of the stench of the twenty-first century, "yeah, well….Keh, seemed like yer not keepin' up yer end of the deal, wench. Lucky for you, the bastard can't come through to the future."
My hands still at the thought of Sesshomaru become this real, the blood drains out of my face, "thank God for small miracles, then."
He actually chuckles, not expecting a comeback against the scariest motherfucker in the Feudal Era, "not bad, not bad. Guess there's one thing we can agree on. But, I gotta say," the hanyou shakes his head a little, "he's not such an asshat now. I mean, I'm good with that, just so's you know."
He's blushing! I can hear it in his tone, a bashful admission. Cleaning off a glass, I quirk an eyebrow where he can't see, "I wondered how far you were going to let me go with all that."
"Oi!" Padding of bare feet over my linoleum, "it's embarrassing enough you had to tell all of it… I mean, even the…private stuff! I thought my asshole brother was going to burst a vein when he read it. 'This Sesshomaru would not say such drivel.' Or some shit like that."
I snicker but am still just as relieved the demon lord is stuck in the feudal era. "So you need a break from the intimacy with Sesshomaru. I'm okay with that, you know? There's a lot that happened after all that."
He groan, "didja have to say intimacy? You've already pansied me out enough, okay? Can we just do some cool fight scenes er something? All the middle stuff is boring as fuck." With this, he huffs, sitting down at my little island. While he watched, I pause long enough to move over the cupboard for a package of ramen. I know I've got at least twelve packs for impromptu lunches. He knows what going on and hums a little when I pop a bowl in the microwave.
"Boring but relevant. You started coming in to your power and combining you with Tetsuaiga instead of the other way around."
"Like I said, boring as fuck."
"C'mon," I glance at his intent face, staring with determination at the microwave as the smell of chicken-flavored noodles filled the air. He doesn't look up. "There's a really great scene I want to cover, so some of it has to be next."
Growling in his chest as the microwave beeps down, "which scene?"
I grin, "you'll see."
"Whatever."
I have to laugh a little, too. Maybe that's why writing escaped me, the hanyou had become less real…?
"…I get it, you know." Watch the water warm cut through red sauce instead of the imagination behind me. "I've got to do something, and you're tired of waiting."
"Yup. That covers it. Just do me a favor and get something started. We'll come and fill in the blanks when ya need it." He takes a serious pause, "it's time for us to move again."
The microwave beeps, finished, and jars me. All the dishes are stacking nearly in the drainer, and the water was just running and my hands are pruney. I glance over but no one is at the island or standing behind me or checking the fridge. I was alone…with a warm bowl of ramen…
So, yeah. This is why I wrote this chapter.
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The Great Trial