I really didn't have the time I took to write this, but oh well. Writing is like the siren of my life; I can't help myself! It's a sickness.
Anywho, the first chappie of four for my second little attempt at S/R, which I hope is enjoyable. I really tried to make it something different from His Blossom, so if there are any repeat offenders of my work, you guys will be the ones to judge me on that front!
One final thing before I cease my rambling: I must give a huge huge thank you to Ashley, my loverly beta-reader, who provided me all sorts of wonderful support and assistance.
And now, please enjoy.
The sun was quickly making its climb up the sky, dissipating the few clouds that had skitted across the bright blue dome earlier. While the sun's warmth was lazy now, Rin knew that it was merely a prelude to the heat to come that afternoon. Then she would be forced to the shade inside, where she would likely have to socialize with the other noblewomen.
It was not that she disliked them; on the contrary, the curiosity of a number of them concerning the little girl who had somehow melted the frost of their lord's heart had made her familiar to many over the years. There were quite a few she felt close to, enough that she could discuss her thoughts – or at least those she figured they would understand on the level she felt them – and she supposed she could call them friends. The fact of the matter, however, was that she was just not made for nobility.
Of course, she could act the part. She had learned all the arts of a proper lady, thanks to the provisions of her lord, and could be as demure and refined as any of the other women of the court when the skill was required of her. During these times, however, all she could think of was escaping the confines – those of the rooms, the company, and the decorum. She would much rather be in the open, with the sun and the wind on her face, and the busy silence of open spaces around her.
As she lay in the cool grass of one of the many gardens surrounding the palace, Rin figured that she was rather the same as Lord Sesshoumaru in that respect. Perhaps her wanderlust had been inspired by his, her free spirit thriving off their constant travels and ceaseless journeying. He seemed as reluctant as her to be pinned into the strict format of palace life. Politics was an intricate dance, and Lord Sesshoumaru had never been one to needlessly waste time. Subterfuge of the kind required for such delicate matters seemed underhanded to him; when he desired something, the only path necessary was the quickest one to achieve his designs.
She always admired that about him, that for the lord of such a powerful people, he nonetheless remained entirely untouched by their politics. While he allowed such things to occur – perhaps he knew that they would happen regardless, or recognized that they were necessary – they were separate from him. As with everything else, he remained distant.
And he was always distant, as cold and remote as a star. Like a star, however, he had also brought light to her life when things had seemed their darkest, a beautiful and constant presence that stood out from the field of hundreds, thousands, of others.
Raising her hand towards the sky, watching the sun filter between her fingers, Rin counted the years he had been part of her life. By now she knew that it was the majority, a year or two over ten years if she had to guess. It had seemed to fly past her, although she could not decide if this was because she had been so utterly content in his presence, or because her mortal years seemed so brief in comparison to the granite of his.
Aging with a being who was nearly ageless had been disconcerting at best, frightening at worst. When she had been little, he had seemed old, a figure of experience to foil her naivety. As the years passed, however, she realized that while he was truly old, would have seen countless generations of humans live and die, he was still a youth of his people. Regardless of the years retained in his golden eyes, in his human form he looked little older than her.
It might have been that realization that had altered how she looked at him. While she still had nothing but respect and complete adoration for him, her blind love had morphed, darkened from the bright love of her youth into something richer, harder to define. She realized that his appearance, which had always fascinated her, was attractive in some indefinable way. More and more frequently, she found herself wishing to allow her fingers to trail through the pale silk of his hair, to stand by him and say things she could not find words to describe to herself.
Rin had never tried to hide it, having been shameless in her feelings when she had been young. Now, however, she refrained from so openly declaring such sentiments, afraid of his rebuke. There could be nothing inferred from a child's love besides what it was, but there were strings to the love of a woman, and she had no desire to tangle him in such a web when it would merely hinder him needlessly.
He could not love her as she now loved him, and she did not expect him to. He had braved Hell, even when his mother had claimed that those who entered never returned to the land of the living, to rescue her lifeless body, to save her corpse. She knew he loved her, although he would never say the words, and that was enough. To have that love at all was something precious.
And yet… it did not dull the ache, or fill the void in her soul. While thankful for the blessing of his esteem, she would always dream of what she could not have.
She allowed her hand to fall back to the ground with a sigh, releasing such vain imaginings to the breeze. It did not do to dwell on impossibilities, to allow her happiness to be tainted with bitter longing. It had been her sunny demeanor, the joy she found in everything, that he had admitted within the last few years as the reason he allowed her to follow him. She could not allow herself to change.
Propping herself up on an elbow, Rin prepared to stand just as she heard voices near her, probably in one of the close rooms in the palace. One was clearly Lord Sesshoumaru, whose voice she could distinguish with ease, while the other was familiar but implacable; he was probably one of the lords, but she did not often speak with them and could only recognize their faces.
As she strained her ears, blocking the sounds of the summer around her, she gradually caught snatches of the conversation. Most of it was from the unrecognizable noble, who had the busy, hard voice that often accompanied the dignitaries. It was so unlike her lord's voice, the deep, mellow timber an unconcerned hum on the edge of hearing.
"I would not insult you by assuming that you are unaware of the rumors," came the noble's voice.
"There are always rumors in a palace," Sesshoumaru responded. "If you wish me to know to which you are referring, you will have to clarify."
There was a short pause, uncomfortable. "You have rejected all propositions of political marriage, my lord, which many find odd for one your age."
"I do not see how that is a mere rumor."
"It's just… while you reject all these proposals, you keep that human girl with you. At her current age, and…" Here, a throat was cleared, "…considering your father's tastes, many have made the assumption that you have followed in his footsteps."
In the pounding silence that followed, Rin hardly noticed that she was holding her breath. Either the nobleman was extremely confident in his standings or extremely foolish to bring up such a thing, whether it was merely repeating the rumor or not.
"Yes, I have heard that particular rumor," Lord Sesshoumaru finally replied, voice dangerously quiet. "Seeing as how it only concerns the girl and me, however, I do not know what possible motivation you could have in bringing it up."
"Many of your enemies, and your allies, have heard this rumor as well," said the noble, some of the strength returning to his voice, apparently now closer to the parts of the matter he had more experience with. "Few want to be aligned with somebody who would take a weak human as a mistress."
"Rin is not, and never will be, my mistress," Sesshoumaru said coldly, his voice laced with a venom she had rarely heard.
It was hard to realize that his quiet wrath was directed at the nobleman; everything in Rin's heart made it feel that it had been a rejection, a voiced disdain for her people. Of course, she had never wanted to be his mistress, but something about the statement cut deeper than she would have anticipated.
Rising, she decided that she had no desire to hear the rest of the conversation. It was not her place to hear anyway; she should have known that doing something so rude would have consequences.
----
He had scoured the forests and mountains around his home for hours without finding a satisfying opponent. For the first time he could ever recall, he would have welcomed the presence of his useless half-brother; while Inuyasha lacked any form of style, he could at least carry on a somewhat entertaining fight.
Finally, Sesshoumaru accepted that there would be no distractions from his thoughts, no escape from the realities he was unwilling to acknowledge. He had known for years, of course, that there were those in the complex who thought there had been another reason he had kept Rin with him for so long.
And for years, he had ignored them, trying vainly to fool himself into believing that Rin was not old enough to make such a rumor even vaguely valid. As long as he could allow himself to believe that there was no basis for their assumptions, there was no use in worrying about them. His was the only opinion that mattered.
Today, however, it had been forced into his face, and he had seen no other option but to accept that Rin could no longer be thought of as a child in any stretch of the word, even from the view of his much older eyes. Perhaps if she were judged by her heart she was still a child, aware of the coldness and violence in the world around her but untouched by it. But that was not the basis for the assumptions; it was the fact that she had grown to be a woman that had caused the rumors, and this change to her appearance was clear.
It disgusted him that such things would be said, made him angry in a way so different from the usual cold-blooded ire. No, this burned, made fire pound through his veins at the idea. For a moment, he thought that it was from the fact that they could even think that he, proud of his pureblooded heritage, would ever take a human to his bed. Quickly, he realized that this was only a minor consideration. Its hum was hardly audible in the thunder of his wrath that they would stain Rin's name in such a way.
The reaction surprised him, was an unexpected result of what he had heard. He knew that he cared for her, that she was dearer to him than any other; after what had taken place in Hell, it would have been vain to deny as much. From that time, he had allowed her to become closer to him than he had previously permitted any person, aware that it was too late to save face on the matter and realizing that he did not want to even try.
Perhaps things would be different if he had held her at the distance from which he considered all others, maintained that barrier around himself…
Sesshoumaru considered the vast spread of the sky above him before shaking his head to himself. It never would have worked. Allowing her so close had never been his conscious intent; it had merely happened, her easy spirit sliding into his existence. It was hard to imagine a time when it had not been so.
There had been such sadness in her eyes when she had first stumbled upon him all those years ago, far more grief than a child of eight tender summers should have weighing upon such small shoulders. When her voice had finally returned in the week after he had restored her life, words broken and breathy from the years of silence, he had seen the frail sparkle in her eyes flare to life, and he had inexplicably found that he desired her to remain so cheerful.
And nothing had been required for her to be so except his presence, a word to her occasionally. She brightened around him like a flower turning towards the sun, although he had never been able to understand what he did for her to garner such a reaction. All the same, he had come to secretly relish the brightness of her smiles, the brief touches of her fingers when she dared to reach for his hand.
Sesshoumaru had never thought that things would have become so complicated, that he'd feel so many emotions tugged from the shadows of his soul. It had been so compulsive, his decision to save her all those years ago. He had thought that she would return to her village, and, when that did not occur, he figured that she would eventually ask for a stable home, a place out of the cold with people who would care for her. Yet she had never complained and never asked to leave, and he had been unable to find a reason to send her away.
Back then, when he realized that she wished to stay with him and that he felt a strange desire to allow this, he should have known that time would change things. He had witnessed wars and battles, seen kingdoms rise and fall, but it never altered the cycle. Everything repeated, unchanging but for the fine details. It was only now, when he had drawn something ephemeral so close, that he realized the gravity these details could hold, how drastic one alteration could change things.
Flicking poison idly at the grass as he returned to the complex, his thoughts were suddenly interrupted. Rin was near; her scent was drifting faintly on the breeze, strangely altered in a way that made his brow furrow before he even registered the odd twinge to her usually bright smell – tears.
Sesshoumaru changed his course, following the disquieting scent until he found her lying in one of the farthest parts of the garden, the long blades of grass almost completely obscuring her from view until he was next to her. While her eyes were shut now, her breathing appearing steady, the moonglow highlighting the tracks of recently spent tears across her cheeks.
It was unacceptable, uncomfortable. Her tears were rare, an occurrence he had always subtly tried to prevent. Moving closer, he inspected the pucker of her lips, the sad creases across her face.
"Why have you been crying?" he asked, quiet voice nonetheless shattering the silence.
Her eyes flew open as she gasped, sitting up quickly. He continued to watch her passively, waiting for her response as she self-consciously pushed her loose hair from her face. "I… have just been in a strange mood today, Lord Sesshoumaru," she said slowly, and while it was clearly true from her puzzled expression, it was obvious that such was not the whole story.
Sitting in the grass by her, he held her eyes, questioning her silently. When her gaze wavered, defeated, she released a small sigh. "I was in the lawn earlier, when you were speaking with one of the noblemen. I heard him… and you."
The dark veil of her hair completely obscured her face from his view, but he had been around her long enough to guess what expression was crossing her features. Turning his gaze from her, instead focusing on the shining heavens above, he tried to order his thoughts into an appropriate comment. "I did not mean for my words to hurt you."
"Your words did not hurt me," she whispered hesitantly, falling back into the cool embrace of the grass. "No… they even made me happy once I thought about them, because you did not seem to care what was said. It made me believe that I am more important to you than your reputation among your people."
He chose to neither confirm nor deny her beliefs, wishing to prevent the conversation from focusing on him. "Then what caused you to cry?" he asked, looking at her over his shoulder.
There was a long pause before she returned his glance, her eyes dark and sad. "There are so many complications between us. I realized that I only cause you difficulties."
"If you did, I would not allow you to stay," he replied instantly.
"I cause conflict with your allies, make your subjects question you, constantly require your attention. How could I not be merely an impediment? What purpose can I possibly serve that even comes close to balancing the debt I owe you?"
Watching as her eyes grew watery with tears she refused to shed in his presence, Sesshoumaru tried to find an answer to her question but could come up with nothing logical. There truly was no discernable reason why he so adamantly kept her with him other than he wanted to. Such was an empty explanation, hollow of words to express the intangible thoughts that accompanied it.
"I do not know," he said eventually, his own confusion evident at the edges of his voice. There had always been a motivation behind his actions, things only done as a means to an end. So to what end did his continued desire to keep a powerless human woman with him serve?
"If you do not know, then would it not be better for me to leave, to allow you to continue to expand your empire?" she wondered.
He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to quell the frantic questions his mind was posing to himself. "No, Rin, you were right." He noticed every reaction this statement had: the snapping of her eyes to his face, the tensing of her muscles, the snag in her breathing. Without looking at her, he dropped his hand to the grass, allowing it to hesitantly slip over hers. "You are more important to me than my reputation among my people."
There was a pause before her hand slowly turned, allowing her tiny fingers to wrap around his. "My lord…" Rin began, voice a ghost of a whisper.
"This palace, these people, they have never meant anything to me," Sesshoumaru said over her, somehow anxious about what she meant to say. "This was everything my father worked for, not me. I have no interest in gaining power only from documents and lineage; I want to use my own strength. If the people choose to dissent, to break alliances over rumors, it is no concern of mine."
A long silence stretched between them, buzzing with so many things left unsaid that it seemed to make even the air heavy. He felt her hand shift within his as she sat up and slowly brought her other hand to cover his.
Although Sesshoumaru now had to acknowledge her as an adult, he still took note of how small she was, a petite form next to him. He wondered how she had even been able to live as long as she had, feeling the skin as delicate as flower petals stretched over the fragile web of veins and sinew beneath. Everything about her was so frail, made for such transience, yet she had lived through more horrors than many of his kin.
Her fingers ran gently over his knuckles, a warm half-touch like the caress of the sun's rays. They danced over his wrist before brushing the light silk of his sleeve back to reveal the two stripes that curled around his arm, lingering upon the markings for a moment. The actions were oddly captivating, holding his attention so that he did not notice that her head had bent to allow her to bring her lips to the back of his hand.
The strange texture of her lips against his skin brought his eyes to her lowered head, his shock that she would be so forward somehow dulled against the vividness of his sudden and unexplainable curiosity. In the dim light, he could still see the blush diffusing across her cheeks when she raised her head.
She gave him a frightened smile, as though she could not quite believe what she had just done, before dropping her gaze back to their locked hands. "I know that my human sentiments probably mean very little, and that whatever aid I could provide would scarcely do any good," she began, clearing her throat awkwardly, "but I would do anything for you."
"I told you before that I do not hold you in my debt," he managed to say, finding words even while his thoughts still hummed.
"With the debt or without, I would still wish to serve you in whatever way you saw fit."
He felt distracted by the gentle touch of her fingers, contact he had only intended on lasting a moment. "What reason do you have for such feelings?"
"Because…" she whispered, pausing with the words at the tip of her tongue. For a moment she pursed her lips before raising her head, looking at him with a warm intensity he had not seen before. "It… it's nothing, my lord."
As she smiled faintly, he considered pressing her, but something held him back, a vague warning. Reluctantly he listened to his instincts, remaining silent.
She looked up at the sky, at the thousands of points of light stretched across the dark expanse. "It reminds me of when I was young," she said suddenly. Looking at her, he wondered what she thought she was now; although grown by the standards of the humans, her two decades were still almost inconsequential. "I remember so many nights like this, when I would sleep under the stars."
"Do you not prefer having a home now?" he asked, trying to ignore the fact that he still held her hand and had no desire to release it.
"My father used to go away after the harvest to sell his rice, and when he returned I always asked him if it was exciting in the city," she began, her attention turned back to him. "While he admitted that there were many sights in the city, he always wanted to come home. He said that anywhere away from those he cared for could never have a significant draw to him. I suppose I am the same; I enjoy being here, so long as you are as well."
Sesshoumaru felt her fingers tighten slightly around his and a flicker of protectiveness washed over him. "As long as we are both here, people will continue to say things." He watched her face as he said this, looking for understanding in her dark eyes.
"If it does not matter to you, I could care less what they have to say of me," she said, smiling brightly up at him. "I have always been an object of scrutiny; it makes very little difference that they have found another topic to entertain themselves with."
He nodded, secretly proud that she had maintained her independence from the acceptance of others, that she did not need approval to be happy. Watching her, he noticed the heavy look in her eyes, and he realized how carefully she was trying to hold off her tiredness. "If those are your feelings, you should return to your rooms to sleep," he said softly.
As her act was apparently disrupted, Rin yawned, raising her hand from where it rested upon his to cover her mouth. He was able to ignore his faint disappointment at the loss when she spoke. "You do not suppose I could sleep out here tonight, do you, my lord?" she queried.
"Why would you wish that?"
"After thinking about the past, it has made me want a night like that again, just once," she explained, fingers of her free hand weaving in the grass. "You do not need to stay, though; it should be safe enough within the walls."
Initially, he thought to deny her, press that she go back. It was true, however, that they had spoken of the past, and he remembered how much easier everything had been at that time, the simplicity that had come with being away from his home. There was no harm in allowing her this small thing. "Sleep, then," he said, gently removing his hand from hers as he took his place to watch over her.
"You really do not need to stay," she said softly after a moment, when she seemed to realize that he would not be leaving. "If you'd prefer, I could even just go to the gardens closer to my rooms."
"It is fine. I will protect you here."
For a second, the words buzzed on the air, and he could not bring himself to look at her. As she shifted in the grass, making herself comfortable, he heard her speak, the words drawing his attention. "I know. You have always protected me."
He felt a strange stir as the truth of this statement sunk in, but her eyes were already closed. Instead, he was left with his half-formed thoughts as he looked into the sky, wondering what it meant that he would do more for this girl than for any other.