InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Lady Or The Hanyou ❯ Chapter 1

Disclaimer: As it stands, I, Avalonian Witch, am not one of the many great historical author/esses. As such, I don't own Inuyasha or The Lady Or The Tiger (By Frank. R Stockton)

 

AN: I know, I'm supposed to be updating, but right after a posted Amber Or Amethyst (a Rurouni Kenshin fic) an inspiration bolt hit me. My rendition, of “The Lady Or The Tiger” , with a few twists. I mean absolutely no disrespect for Inutaisho (Sesshoumaru and Inuyasha's father) in calling him any name, but I needed an evil king, and who wants Naraku to be the Inu Youkai's dad?

 

Many of the paragraphs themselves come from the Lady Or The Tiger, though I have tried my best to make them my own, and to simply the language, for the better understanding of others. This is a Rin/Sessh fic, in which Sesshoumaru is the prince, and Rin is the maiden.

 

 

The Lady Or The Hanyou

 

In the very olden time there lived a youkai king, who's ideas, though somewhat polished by the less blood-thirsty reign of the human kings around him, remained barbaric and brutal. And so, he, like his kingdom, was divided into two halves. Half of him was florid (extravagant), polite, and sociable. As became the other half of him, which was still thoroughly demonic, harsh, and blood lustful. He was greatly given to self-communing, and, when he and himself, his two halves, agreed upon anything, the thing was done. When every member of his domestic and political systems moved smoothly in its appointed course, his nature was mild and pleasant; but, whenever there was a little hitch, and some of his orbs got out of their orbits, he was milder and more pleasant still, for nothing pleased him so much as to make the crooked straight and crush down uneven places.

 

Among the borrowed notions by which his demonic had become obvious was that of the public arena, in which, by exhibitions of manly and beastly valor, the minds of his subjects were refined and cultured.

 

But even here the exuberant and demonic fancy asserted itself The arena of the king was built, not to give the people an opportunity of hearing the rhapsodies of dying gladiators, nor to enable them to view the inevitable conclusion of a conflict between religious opinions and hungry jaws, but for purposes far better adapted to widen and develop the mental energies of the people. This vast amphitheater, with its encircling galleries, its mysterious vaults, and its unseen passages, was an agent of poetic justice, in which crime was punished, or virtue rewarded, by the decrees of an impartial and incorruptible chance.

 

When a subject was accused of a crime of enough importance to interest the king, public notice was given that on an appointed day the fate of the accused person would be decided in the king's arena, a structure which well deserved its name, for, although its form and plan were borrowed from afar, its purpose emanated solely from the brain of this man, who, every barleycorn a king, knew no tradition to which he owed more allegiance than pleased his fancy, and who ingrafted on every adopted form of human thought and action the rich growth of his youkai idealism.

 

When all the people had assembled in the galleries, and the king, surrounded by his court, sat high up on his throne of royal state on one side of the arena, he gave a signal, a door beneath him opened, and the accused subject stepped out into the amphitheater. Directly opposite him, on the other side of the inclosed space, were two doors, exactly alike and side by side. It was the duty and the privilege of the person on trial to walk directly to these doors and open one of them. He could open either door he pleased; he was subject to no guidance or influence but that of the aforementioned impartial and incorruptible chance. If he opened the one, there came out of it a hungry tiger, the fiercest and most cruel that could be procured, which immediately sprang upon him and tore him to pieces as a punishment for his guilt. The moment that the case of the criminal was thus decided, doleful iron bells were clanged, great wails went up from the hired mourners posted on the outer rim of *the arena, and the vast audience, with bowed heads and downcast hearts, wended slowly their homeward way, mourning greatly that one so young and fair, or so old and respected, should have had so dismal a fate.

 

But, if the accused person opened the other door, there came forth from it a lady, the most suitable to his years and station that his majesty could select among his fair subjects, and to this lady he was immediately married, as a reward of his innocence. It mattered not that he might already possess a wife and family, or that his affections might be engaged upon an object of his own selection; the king allowed no such subordinate arrangements to interfere with his great scheme of retribution and reward. The exercises, as in the other instance, took place immediately, and in the arena. Another door opened beneath the king, and a priest, followed by a band of choristers, and dancing maidens blowing joyous airs on golden horns and treading an epithalamic measure, advanced to where the pair stood, side by side, and the wedding was promptly and cheerily solemnized. Then the gay brass bells rang forth their merry peals, the people shouted glad hurrahs, and the innocent man, preceded by children strewing flowers on his path, led his bride to his home.

 

The idea was a very popular one. When the people gathered together on one of the great trial days, they never knew whether they were to witness a bloody slaughter or a hilarious wedding. This element of uncertainty lent an interest to the occasion which it could not otherwise have attained. Thus, the masses were entertained and pleased, and the thinking part of the community could bring no charge of unfairness against this plan, for did not the accused person have the whole matter in his own hands?

 

This semi-barbaric king had a son as handsome as his most florid fancies, and with a soul as fervent and imperious as his own. As is usual in such cases, he was the apple of his eye, and was loved by him above all humanity. Among his fancies was a young woman of that fineness of blood and lowness of station common to the conventional lowly maidens of romance who love royal princes. This royal prince was well satisfied with his lover, for he, the prince, was handsome and brave to a degree unsurpassed in all this kingdom, and she loved him with an ardor that had enough of demonicism in it to make it exceedingly warm and strong. This love affair moved on happily for many months, until one day the king happened to discover its existence. He did not hesitate nor waver in regard to his duty. And sadly, he ordered, and indeed it was, that his young son was immediately cast into prison, and a day was appointed for his trial in the king's arena. This, of course, was an especially important occasion, and his majesty, as well as all the people, was greatly interested in the workings and development of this trial. Never before had such a case occurred; never before had a royal, especially one such as Prince Sesshoumaru, dared to love a subject. In after years such things became commonplace enough, but then they were in no slight degree new and startling.

 

And it was again reluctantly that the King sent out word, to have all the witches and mages and Magnus and sorcerer to come to the arena. For as his law had dictated, and as he now regretted it, his son would have to make a choice. Between being cursed a half-demon, and staying with his lady love, Rin. Or staying a full demon, and witnessing his beloved torn to shreds by a curse just as strong. Of course, everybody knew that the deed with which the accused was charged had been done. He had loved the lowly subject, and neither he, she, nor any one else, thought of denying the fact; but the king would not think of allowing any fact of this kind to interfere with the workings of the tribunal, in which he took such great delight and satisfaction. No matter how the affair turned out, someone, even if it had to be his son, would be disposed of, and the king would take an aesthetic pleasure in watching the course of events, which would determine whether or not the young prince had done wrong in allowing himself to love the lowly maid.

 

The appointed day arrived. From far and near the people gathered, and thronged the great galleries of the arena, and crowds, unable to gain admittance, massed themselves against its outside walls. The king and his court were in their places, opposite the twin doors, those fateful portals, so terrible in their similarity.

All was ready. The signal was given. A door beneath the royal party opened, and the prince walked out into the center of the arena. Tall, beautiful, fair, his appearance was greeted with a low hum of admiration and anxiety. Half the audience had not known so grand a youth, and their prince nonetheless, had lived among them.

 

As the youth advanced into the arena he turned, as the custom was, to bow to the king, his father. But no longer did he think at all of that royal personage. His eyes were fixed upon the lowly maiden, Rin. Who sat to the right of his father, so that she could watch the splendor, and maybe even the beginning to her demise. Had it not been for the barbarism in his father's nature it is probable that lady, even if she was lowly, would not have been there, but his father's intense and fervid soul would not allow her to be absent on an occasion in which he hoped, she was so terribly interested. From the moment that the decree had gone forth that her lover should decide his fate in the king's arena, she had thought of nothing, night or day, but this great event and the various subjects connected with it. Possessed of more power, influence, and force of character than any one who had ever before been interested in such a case, she had done what no other person had done,--she had possessed herself of the secret of the doors. She knew in which of the two rooms, that lay behind those doors, stood the powerful witch who was to curse her prince, making him hanyou, but leaving him hers. With its open front, and in which waited the lady, whom with, he would have to wed and remain a full demon. Through these thick doors, heavily curtained with skins on the inside, it was impossible that any noise or suggestion should come from within to the person who should approach to raise the latch of one of them. But gold, and the power of a woman's will, had brought the secret to the maiden that was Rin.

 

And not only did she know in which room stood the lady ready to emerge, all blushing and radiant, should her door be opened, but she knew who the lady was. It was one of the fairest and loveliest of the damsels of the court who had been selected as the reward of the accused youth, should he be proved innocent of the crime of aspiring to one so far below him; and for that instant Rin hated her. Often had she seen, or imagined that she had seen, this fair creature throwing glances of admiration upon the person of her lover, and sometimes she thought these glances were perceived, and even returned. Now and then she had seen them talking together; it was but for a moment or two, but much can be said in a brief space; it may have been on most unimportant topics, but how could she know that? The girl was lovely, but she had dared to raise her eyes to the prince; and, with as much intensity as her human blood would allow her, she hated the demoness lady behind the door.

 

When her lover turned and looked at her, and his eye met hers as she sat there, paler and whiter than any one in the vast ocean of anxious faces about her, he saw, by that power of quick perception which is given to those whose souls are one, that she knew behind which door was the witch, and his freedom to love her, Rin, and behind which stood the lady, and to whom he would be bound forever. He had expected her to know it. He understood her nature, and his soul was assured that she would never rest until she had made plain to herself this thing, hidden to all other lookers-on, even to the king. The only hope for the youth in which there was any element of certainty was based upon the success of the princess in discovering this mystery; and the moment he looked upon her, he saw she had succeeded, as in his soul he knew she would succeed.

 

Then it was that his quick and anxious glance asked the question: "Which?" It was as plain to her as if he shouted it from where he stood. There was not an instant to be lost. The question was asked in a flash; it must be answered in another.

 

Her right arm lay on the cushioned parapet before her. She raised her hand, and made a slight, quick movement toward the right. No one but her lover saw her. Every eye but his was fixed on the prince in the arena.

 

He turned, and with a firm and rapid step he walked across the empty space. Every heart stopped beating, every breath was held, every eye was fixed immovably upon that man. Without the slightest hesitation, he went to the door on the right, and opened it.

 

Now, the point of the story is this: Did the witch come out of that door, or did the lady?

 

The more we reflect upon this question, the harder it is to answer. It involves a study of the human heart which leads us through devious mazes of passion, out of which it is difficult to find our way. Think of it, fair reader, not as if the decision of the question depended upon yourself, but upon that hot-blooded, fully human maiden, her soul at a white heat beneath the combined fires of despair and jealousy. She had not yet lost him, but if she had who should have him but that fair rich maid?

 

How often, in her waking hours and in her dreams, had she started in wild horror, and covered her face with her hands as she thought of her lover opening the door on the other side of which waited the arms of the fair lady?

 

But how much oftener had she seen him at the other door! How often had she seen him cursed to be that which he hated most? A half-demon? True they would be together, but would she really curse him to a half-life simply for her craving of his love?

 

Would it not be better for him to live his half life with her and her love and their love together?

 

And yet the pain that he would suffer for being labled a hanyou was no light matter.

 

Her decision had been indicated in an instant, but it had been made after days and nights of anguished deliberation. She had known she would be asked, she had decided what she would answer, and, without the slightest hesitation, she had moved her hand to the right.

 

The question of her decision is one not to be lightly considered, and it is not for me to presume to set myself up as the one person able to answer it. And so I leave it with all of you: Who stepped out of the arena after the choice had been made? The prince with his new lady, or the hanyou, with his love?

 

AN: This is not plagerism. I repeat, I warned you that most of the lines came directly from the lady or the tiger. This is fanfiction at the classical literature level and I expect no flames. Review.