InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Demons in Disguise ❯ Meanwhile... ( Chapter 18 )

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Feudal Era

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Sesshou and Rin basked in each other's love in modern times, but something else was taking place in the feudal era. Through the Bone Well at the Higurashi Shrine, passed the village where Inuyasha and his wife Kagome resided, over the countryside, through the forests, there was a simple but large castle carved into a great mountain. Those who knew of the castle (who also knew to steer clear of it) knew that the home was where the powerful demoness Jarogajin dwelled. And many knew that her high power was equally matched by her insanity.

Jarogajin was not beautiful, but not hideous either. Her black violet-glossed hair was straight and hung down to her lower back, her face was on the verge of ghost white save the lavender pair of stripes on each side of her face, her eyes were gray like a cloudy day, a pair of small silver horns jutted out from her forehead, and her sharp nails were long and black. She preferred to where satin blue robes decorated with gold patterns reminiscent of spider webs. Her physical power was not very formidable, but her hexes and enchantments could make a mighty river shake with fright.

The demons who served the great Jarogajin would gossip about their Lady's madness. As long as she was kept content, she was harmless and almost too kind. Yet if she was angered, then her viciousness was overwhelming. Little could keep Lady Jarogajin in good graces a while ago. That is until she found her Lord and husband. The workers of the palace spoke and pondered over her peculiar husband of nineteen years. He was very handsome, elegant, and many sensed great power from him.

He wore thick white robes with red trim, strange armor, and had a long furred pelt over his right shoulder. Many suspected he was missing his left arm, but none dare ask. When he had first arrived at the castle he had had a pair of swords in his sash, but Jarogajin had hidden them away in the castle vault. His hair was silver and long, fair skin with magenta stripes on his face and a cerulean moon mark on his brow, and many noticed his golden eyes, though lovely, were pupiless and as blank/empty as a clean gold coin. His name, Jarogajin claimed, was Sesshoumaru.

Sesshoumaru was freakishly obedient to Lady Jarogajin. He did nothing that she did not tell him to do. Many rumored that Jarogajin stole his soul and was in love with little more than his vacant body. With his soul she would be able to control the empty shell. A body without a soul is as good as dead in the eyes of nature.

This rumor was fueled by the strange necklace Jarogajin wore about her neck. A round glass marble hung on the end of a silver chain. In the glass marble was a white smoke that stirred violently every time Jarogajin ordered something of Sesshoumaru's body. The idea that Jarogajin had in fact stolen Sesshoumaru's soul, locked his spirit in the marble around her neck, and forced the body to be her husband would explain much of the odd communion between them.

But none would risk voicing their speculations. To question Jarogajin was to anger her. And to anger her was a death wish.

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"My lady, your supper is ready," a humble female servant informed her mistress Jarogajin. The Lady of the castle had been sitting in front of her mirror, putting expensive earrings through her lobes. Once the servant had given her the news, she flashed a large smile with her gleaming fanged teeth sending a twinge of fear through the servant.

"Wonderful!" she cheered. "Is my Lord Sesshoumaru waiting?"

The servant bowed her head and told her mistress that her husband was already at the table. Jarogajin clapped her hands together and swung her head around to the mirror. She began to spread glistening silver makeup around her eyes and pad on rosy blush.

"Thank you, dear. Tell him I'll be right down," Jarogajin instructed of the servant. "I'm sure my love is anxious for my attendance."

The servant bowed and hurried off to do as her mistress had commanded of her. Then again, the servant didn't see the use of telling Lord Sesshoumaru anything since it would make no difference to his empty body whether Jarogajin attended dinner or not. But the servant would never tell Jarogajin that. It was just another sign of the Lady's unstable mind that she had actually convinced herself that Sesshoumaru had a mind of his own. She truly believed that he loved he back, even though she was the one who had stolen his spirit.

As soon as Jarogajin had pinned her hair up with the golden comb Sesshoumaru had given her for her birthday (she had subconsciously commanded him to get the gift, since Sesshoumaru's body is linked with her subconscious) she rushed downstairs to the dining hall where her blank husband was waiting for her. She sauntered over to him and planted a kiss upon his lips.

"Greetings, my love, I hope I didn't keep you waiting," she addressed. 'Sesshoumaru' stared ahead blankly with no recognition to his blushing bride. She sat down across from him at the table as the servants served their food in front of them. Jarogajin looked across the table to her husband with a grin plastered on her lips.

"Would you like rice wine or tea tonight, darling?" Jarogajin drawled. 'Sesshoumaru' showed no reaction to his wife's question at all, but Jarogajin still grinned.

"Tea it is, then," Jarogajin concluded and waved a servant over to pour 'Sesshoumaru's' tea. "Drink up, my love, I'm sure your thirsty."

At Jarogajin's words, the shell of Sesshoumaru grasped his cup and slowly sipped the tea. Her eyes twinkled and she nibbled at her food. She constantly peeked up at her love who ate sparingly since Jarogajin's subconscious had willed him to.

"I'm wearing the wonderful gold comb you gave for my birthday, Sesshoumaru. Thank you so much for giving it to me. Doesn't it look great?" Jarogajin asked. 'Sesshoumaru' nodded his head slightly.

"It looks lovely, dear," he answered in a monotone voice.

Jarogajin giggled and blushed.

"Oh, you're such a dear," she gushed. Jarogajin looked at her husband with loving eyes, and tricked herself into believing that the blank look she got back was filled with the same devotion. The white smoke in the glass marble around her neck swirled.