InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Of Gods and Monsters ❯ Chapter 29: "Foot, Meet Mouth" ( Chapter 29 )

A/N: Mucho kudos to Merith and Kat, of course, and a life's supply of chocolate for Everstar, who provides a good laugh, moral support, and the occasional intellectual debate. OH! And, ohmygod, THANK YOU to weenie, who did -- to my knowledge -- the first EVER bit of OG&M fan-art! It was so cool, and so awesome, and... okay, not colored yet, but still -- SO COOL! *Niamh showers weenie with even more cookies! Or, you know, whatever she wants!*

Chapter 29: "Foot, Meet Mouth"

Even though she was not outside to see the sun peek over the mountainous horizon, Kagome felt the vague, niggling tug that let her know it was time to wake. She stirred slowly, dreams of warm lips and golden eyes vanishing into the ether as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

The young priestess sat up and stretched somewhat stiffly before remembering what had transpired only hours before. A faint blush staining her cheeks, Kagome touched her lips briefly. Did it really happen?

Of course it had. It had to have happened.

Nodding resolutely, Kagome got up, shivering suddenly. The fire had almost completely died during the night and the den was a little chillier than she would have liked. Wrapping her blanket around herself, she let soft, silent steps lead her towards the library; swallowing, she hesitated only a moment before tiptoeing in.

The oil in the lamp was low, but the room was still lit with a gentle, flickering light. And there, leaning against the wall, almost exactly where she'd left him, was Inuyasha. She could tell from his expression that he was in a deep, peaceful sleep. His arms were tucked snugly in his sleeves and his chest rose and fell with the gentle rhythm of slumber.

A soft smile pulling at her lips, Kagome shook her head. Well, I told him to go to sleep. Slowly she crossed the room, creeping silently towards him. She watched him sleep for a few moments, noting that he must have been utterly exhausted if he hadn't even heard her walk in. Kneeling next to him, Kagome unwound the blanket from her shoulders before covering him with it. She carefully tucked one corner of the blanket behind Inuyasha's left shoulder then wrapped it across him, tucking the other corner behind his right shoulder. She sat back on her heels and watched him for a few seconds, considering.

The change in Inuyasha was nearly imperceptible; his shoulders relaxed slightly, and from somewhere deep in his throat came a very soft, contented sound. He didn't stir, but instead appeared to fall into an even deeper, more restful sleep.

Smiling fondly, Kagome leaned forward and brushed his bangs out of the way with a gentle hand before dropping a feather-light kiss on his forehead. Not wanting to wake him, she stood silently and crept back towards the door and down the corridors towards the main room.

Halfway there, Kagome shivered again, harder. Time to put on some of the heavier clothes I brought, I guess. She had no sooner pulled a pair of jeans and a sweater from her pack than Kirara pawed her way into the room, bearing a wide-awake Rin and Shippou on her back. The children were enviously alert, and just as Shippou opened his mouth -- probably to inquire about breakfast -- Kagome smiled at them, placing a finger to her lips and shaking her head quickly. Whispering softly, she glanced over her shoulder. "Sango-chan and Miroku-sama are still--" here she stopped. Sango was indeed still asleep, but Miroku's mat was rolled neatly. The monk was nowhere in sight. "Sango-chan is still asleep," she amended softly.

Well, that's strange, she mused. But then again, I guess I shouldn't be surprised, considering how strange he's been acting. She glanced back at Shippou, who also seemed somewhat perplexed, but the fox kit shrugged and nudged Kirara back down the corridors where they would probably explore until the meal was prepared. Mentally shrugging as well, Kagome held the clothes to her chest and went off in search of a more secluded spot to change. Once she was in the warmer clothing, she returned and set about to re-stoking the fire.

The soft sounds of movement gradually tugged Sango out of her slumber. She opened one eye slowly and regarded Kagome prodding the fire. Stretching, she glanced around the room slowly. "Gods, am I the last one up?" she asked a bit sheepishly.

Kagome glanced up suddenly. "Oh -- good morning, Sango-chan."

"Good morning," Sango replied sleepily, covering her mouth in a wide yawn. "So, where is everybody?"

Smiling a bit, Kagome sat back on her heels; the fire had finally started to rage back to life. "You're not the last one up -- Inuyasha's still asleep, and I haven't seen Teles yet."

The taiji-ya's eyebrows lifted at that. "Inuyasha's not awake?"

Kagome offered a slight shrug. "He stayed up late."

Sango's brows drew together in thought as she sat up. She pushed the blanket away before pulling it back almost immediately with something that sounded a great deal like a squeak. "It got cold!" she exclaimed.

"I know!" Kagome returned, nodding. "I built the fire back up, so the den should be warming up in a bit. But I have a couple of extra sweaters, if you're that cold."

The demon exterminator smiled gratefully. "I think I will accept, Kagome-chan. Thank you." She watched patiently as Kagome rummaged through her yellow pack. She certainly believes in coming prepared, doesn't she? In a few moments, the miko withdrew a thickly woven green sweater, which she handed to Sango, who uttered another word of thanks as she pulled it over her head. She stuck her arms through the sleeves and smoothed the sweater down with a contented sigh. "Better already," the taiji-ya said with a quick smile.

Glancing away from the fire and over at her friend, Kagome giggled inadvertently. When Sango lifted her eyebrows inquisitively, the younger girl shook her head. "I'm sorry -- it just looks funny with the yukata.

Sango shot her a crooked grin. "Kagome-chan, I am not a vain woman. If it's warmer, it's warmer -- whether it looks funny or not."

As Kagome opened her mouth to reply, Teles came out of her and Sesshoumaru's chambers, her body swathed in a thick kimono that was far too large to belong to anyone but the youkai lord himself. Around her shoulders was a blanket, which she held tightly in place. "In Gaia's name, how did it get so cold?" She knelt before the fire, which was slowly gaining strength.

Kagome chuckled, settling down into a cross-legged position. "It won't be too much longer now -- the fire was almost completely out this morning."

Closing her eyes, Teles felt her stiffened limbs relax a bit before the dancing flames. This is ridiculous, she scolded herself. I have lived in these lands for over a century -- the cold should not affect me thus. And yet, the change she felt from the stark chill of the bedchamber to her spot before the fire was remarkable. The former goddess felt something sink within her as she considered how much warmer she would have been had she not slept in an empty bed. For a moment she allowed herself to imagine her mate's arms around her, easing the chill from her body. Unfortunately, the fantasy did not serve to warm her, causing her heart to tighten in loneliness instead. Once again she reprimanded herself. It is fruitless to indulge in flights of fancy. Had he desired to be here, he would be. Besides, it has been so long since he has touched me -- it is folly to imagine he would want to even at this point.

Similarly feeling the chill melt away from the den, Sango sat up and pushed her blankets aside, setting about to rolling her mat and putting the bedding away. After a moment, she looked up, puzzled. Miroku was nowhere to be had, and his mat and bedding were already neatly stowed away. "Kagome-chan, where is houshi-sama?"

Kagome shook her head. "He was already gone by the time I woke up." Shrugging, she added, "I think he's being weird again."

Sango pursed her lips in thought. Just because he woke up early doesn't mean that he's being "weird." Perhaps he simply awoke before the rest of us and had no desire to disturb us. Frowning, the taiji-ya opened her mouth, words defending the monk poised on her tongue. As she realized what she was about to do, her mouth snapped shut and a faint blush colored her cheeks. Shaking her head quickly, she ran her hands over her neatly stowed bedding before turning back to the fire and kneeling before it. "Yes, quite strange," she murmured, almost half-heartedly. "It's not like him to get such an early start on the day."

Teles' eyebrows twitched together as she observed the subtle change in the taiji-ya. "Perhaps," she said slowly, "he has merely left the den in search of fresh air. I'll... go look if you like?" Even as she said the words, Teles balked at the idea of abandoning the warmth of the flames.

Both Sango and Kagome looked up at the goddess, twin expressions of incredulity on their faces.

"But... I thought you were cold," Sango replied.

Teles sent the taiji-ya a quick grin. "I assure you, I'm quite sufficiently warmed. It is no trouble. Besides," she added, carefully getting to her feet, "my limbs still feel somewhat stiff. I think that perhaps moving might be the best way to relieve that."

"If you're sure..." Kagome said dubiously.

"Oh, I'm quite sure," Teles said, padding quietly out of the main hall, heading for the mouth of the den.

Once she was out of earshot, Kagome shook her head. "Well. That was strange."

Sango shrugged one shoulder, remembering her conversation with Miroku the night before. "Not really," she said softly. "From what I understand, they've spoken fairly frequently." She paused thoughtfully. "They're friends." Kagome sent Sango a fairly wry look, but Sango only shrugged again. "It's not that strange, Kagome-chan. She is a former deity -- who else would she feel comfortable with but a monk?"

"Yes, but... Miroku-sama? Besides being Buddhist..." Her brows drew together thoughtfully. "Then again, all things considered, she's probably safe from him."

Again, something bristled in Sango, and again she quashed it. "Even though she came from a different pantheon, it's not really that unreasonable that she might speak more freely with him."

"I guess..." Kagome said, scrunching her lips in thought. Okay, so now Sango doesn't see the weirdness in the weirdness? The epidemic of strange is spreading! At that moment, Kagome's memory was flooded with the memory of Inuyasha's voice right before his lips brushed hers. 'Don't cry anymore, Kagome.' A warm blush crept up her neck and colored her face, and a small, secretive smile pulled at her lips. And some things are strange in a good way.

Meanwhile, as Teles walked slowly to the den's entrance, her eyes widened in amazement as light puffs of steam formed as she breathed. She exhaled experimentally and giggled in childlike fascination at the sight. Suddenly the cold wasn't quite as bothersome anymore.

A smooth, familiar voice came from a few yards away. "Every man should be so lucky."

Pulling Sesshoumaru's kimono as well as the blanket more tightly around her, Teles headed outside, peering around the den's entrance and spotting Miroku, who was leaning against the rocky outer wall.

"I'm sorry, little monk?"

He grinned. "To wake up to a beautiful woman laughing."

She grinned at that. "Little houshi, you should not try and turn my head with flattery," she said, tossing his words back at him.

The young monk exhaled a mock-mournful sigh. "Nobody ever believes me." He observed for a moment as the former goddess blew out another breath, watching as the steam evaporated into the air. A small smile lit his lips at the innocent fascination reflected in her face. "It always happens during the cold times of the year."

Teles shook her head slowly. "It... it never happened to me before. I barely noticed the seasons at all. But when I woke this morning, it was," she gave a little shiver, "uncommonly chilly."

Miroku's frown was instant. "The fire went down so quickly? I re-stoked it before I came out here." After a moment, that frown grew thoughtful. "Then again, it wasn't quite light out when I woke..."

"I don't think it's something to be too terribly concerned with; Kagome is quite capable."

"Yes, that she is," he said, nodding slowly. Miroku gazed across the clearing, which was tinged with frost. It would melt away as the sun rose in the sky, but for the moment, it glittered undisturbed. "Do you know... I really used to dislike this time of year?"

"Why is that?" the pregnant woman asked, looking at the houshi. "It's... well, of course it's cold, but it's really quite lovely."

"Because of the cold. It's harder to be a traveler in the winter."

"Ah," she said, nodding. "Yes, that does make sense." Teles considered this for a moment, and then arched an amused eyebrow at him. "But if village women will offer solace to a young, drenched monk, I imagine such solace would be offered to a young, frozen monk."

He chuckled at that, nodding. "Very true." He glanced over at her, artlessly changing the subject. "And how are you this fine, if chilly, morning?"

"On an errand to retrieve you," she replied, her eyes raking across the field and up to the cliffs beyond the trees. "Or at least discover what manner of madness sent you out at such an early hour."

Miroku shrugged fluidly. "Thinking."

Shooting him a sidelong glance, Teles lifted her eyebrows. "Oh?"

Nodding, he added wryly, "Attempting to come up with clever explanations as to why I should not inform your mate about the fact that the pup has been causing you more and more pain."

The cold that had left the former goddess at the sight of the beauty outside returned, settling heavily in her gut. "...I see."

"I should, you know," he said pointedly.

Pressing her lips together in thought, Teles ignored the truth behind the young monk's words. "Miroku," she said reasonably, "I... I have never been with child before, and I have never been human before. It is entirely possible that I'm... simply not used to discomfort in any form. This may be completely normal."

"Perhaps," he replied smoothly, "but it is alarming. And while it may or may not be normal, I'm sure that your mate would like to be informed of minor details." Here he paused meaningfully. "Like, for instance, your being in pain."

Teles wrapped the blanket more tightly around herself. He was right, and she knew it.

"He would see it as a weakness, I fear," she said, her voice growing soft. Another weakness.

At the note of worry in her voice, Miroku sighed, his shoulders slumping. He'd been considering his approach since the pink slivers of dawn had started to lighten the sky. He'd contemplated the many different ways he could convince Teles to acquiesce and let him speak with Sesshoumaru on the subject of her increasing discomfort. After much thought, he had decided that he would have the best luck were he to remain reasonable. The conversation had played out perfectly in his head, at least.

Brilliant work, houshi-sama, he thought darkly. After a moment, he shook his head. "I'm not going to tell him," he said quietly.

Teles blinked once. "You're not?"

"You seem more alarmed by the prospect than reassured. I do not wish to alarm you, Teles. I only wish to help." He looked at her again. "You have to understand, he would want to know this."

Teles looked down at the ground for several seconds. The monk's words were true enough -- that she could not dispute. Under normal circumstances, she would have let Sesshoumaru know the minute her pain seemed to increase. But these were not normal circumstances. He already looked at her as if she were nothing but a disappointment to him. Informing him about this -- about one more thing that was suffering as a result of her humanity -- was an unappealing possibility, to say the least. "I... I am not alarmed by the idea. I... I simply think he would view it as another weakness. As if it's not quite bad enough that I'm human -- his child is causing me pain as well." She bit her lip for a moment, weighing her words. "As if I'm not strong enough to bear his heir. Do you see?"

After a moment, Miroku sighed. "Come on," he said, walking back to the mouth of the den. "I do see. But..." His steps were brought to a stop when the youkai lord's mate grasped his arm lightly. When he looked at her, he saw that she still looking at the field, almost mesmerized by its fragile, undisturbed beauty.

"I... it's pretty, Miroku," she said, her eyes still on the frost covered clearing. "I think I'd like to stay in sight of this for a while longer."

Chuckling softly, Miroku nodded. "Very well." He led her to a spot just beyond the den's entrance, still in sight of the field, but shielded from the cool wind. Without a word, he began untying his kesa.

Teles glanced at him and shook her head. "That is wholly unnecessary, little monk." She nodded at the blanket held tightly around her body as well as the thick kimono belonging to her mate. "I'm sufficiently shielded from the elements."

"Yes, yes," he said with affectionate impatience as he draped the material over her shoulders anyway. "You're not the one who will get his ears ripped off for endangering the pup."

The former goddess sent him a glare that held no heat behind it. "You will freeze to death, and I will be blamed for it. I could not bear to have your demise on my conscience."

Miroku's mouth twitched slightly. "It will be a wholly unexpected demise, if that comforts you."

"Hardly."

He laughed then. "No, of course not."

They stood like that for a few minutes, the companionable silence settling around them as they entertained their own thoughts. Teles' eyes had moved beyond the beauty of the clearing, glancing up at the cliffs just east of the den's entrance. She started to speak, then thought better of it, pursing her lips. After a second or two, she tried again. "Little monk -- Miroku -- I..." The words not coming out as clearly as she might have liked, Teles closed her eyes, gathering her thoughts for a moment. "I do not wish to endanger my child. If you believe that the wisest course of action would be to notify my mate, then... I trust you."

Miroku nodded contemplatively. "...And yet, I have no wish to make things worse for you. But you must understand, Teles," he said, turning to face her, his expression earnest, his eyes sincere. "Sesshoumaru is the only one among us with any experience in this matter. He was alive when Inuyasha's mother was carrying him. There is the possibility that he knows something of hanyou births."

After a moment, Teles nodded in agreement. "...I do not believe he would wish the child to come to harm. His displeasure appears to be solely with me, and he has frequently chastised me for doing things that could be construed as harmful to the pup."

Though the news didn't exactly relieve the monk, he nodded once. "That's something, at least."

After a few more moments, Teles looked again at the young houshi. "Miroku, I... I could not bear it if something happened to my child." Pausing, she bit her lip and worried it between her teeth. "I would not want you to alarm Sesshoumaru unnecessarily." Her brow creased in thought for a moment. "That said... you mentioned that he is the only one among us with any experience in this. If you are incorrect in your estimation, then he might become alarmed regardless, whether there is something amiss or not..." She closed her eyes and ground her teeth, debating. But if -- if indeed something is wrong with the pup, he deserves to know. He would never forgive me otherwise. "Tell him."

Miroku only nodded slowly, suddenly uncomfortable with the undertaking ahead of him.

Teles rubbed her forehead wearily. "I suppose he was bound to find out sooner or later. Machinations at this point would be useless. If he is to find out, Fate will see to it that he does. If there is one thing I learned in all my thousands of years on Olympus, things will turn out the way they are meant to turn out, regardless of your efforts -- or anyone else's -- to the contrary."

The young monk looked ruefully at his right hand. "Oh, good."

Upon hearing the tone in his voice, Teles sighed in mildly amused exasperation. "I did not mean it quite like that, Miroku."

Chuckling, he regarded her. "I knew that."

The unpleasant task of discussing her mate behind her, Teles fell into a thoughtful silence for a few moments. "...In my day, we had seers. Mortals came from miles around to visit the Oracle at Delphi -- or, occasionally, sibyls. People wanted to know what was in store for them, but when they did not like the news they received, they took measures to make sure what the Oracle predicted would not come to fruition."

Nodding thoughtfully, Miroku leaned against the rock wall of the den. "That would seem to make sense," he said. But as he looked at her, something in the former goddess' eyes as well as her voice told him that she had not yet reached the end of her tale. "But...?"

"But what those mortals never took into consideration was that their individual fates were mapped out in such a way that knowing the future did not mean you could change it," she explained. "Things worked out a certain way because hundreds of thousands of factors came together at just the right time." It had happened that way for all of her years; after a few millennia, she had begun to notice a pattern.

For his part, Miroku looked thoughtful. He found his gaze returning to his cursed hand. After a few moments, he said, his voice low, "Do you know... that actually gives me some hope."

"Oh?" she asked, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

The young monk nodded. "My father and grandfather... they attempted to do it alone. But here I am. Inuyasha, Kagome, Sango, myself.... All of us have been brought here, then, according to your explanation. And... either Fate is playing a cruel joke on us..." He paused thoughtfully. "Or the four of us are together because, this time, things are different."

Teles nodded slowly, considering Miroku's words. "...It has always been my opinion that mortals doomed themselves the moment they decided to approach the Oracle. I believed -- and still do believe -- that the Fates punished mortals for trying to uncover what was best left hidden."

Chuckling, Miroku's eyes twinkled at the former goddess. "Remind me not to let Mushin read my palm anymore."

Laughing softly, Teles shook her head. "Allow me to elaborate. There was once a king -- Laius -- and his queen, Jocasta. They had a child -- a son. They approached the Oracle to find out their son's fate, and when the Oracle told them that their child would murder his father and wed his mother, they were outraged. So, they decided to have their child killed. It didn't quite work out that way. The child was left on a mountainside, his ankles pierced and bound, when a childless couple found him and took him in, raising him as their own. This child grew into a man -- Oedipus. He too grew curious about his life, and sought out the Oracle, only to find out that it was his fate to murder his father and marry his mother. Shocked, and not a little disgusted, he left his parents, and travels to a nearby city. On the way there, he encountered a man at a crossroads. They had an altercation, and Oedipus slew the man. As it turns out, it was King Laius."

There was a complete beat of perfect silence as Miroku blinked. "Your Fates are perverse."

"They punish those who desire to see what is not meant for mortal eyes," she replied reasonably.

"Quite thoroughly, I might say."

"Yes, well that is the idea," Teles replied, nodding. She slipped her arm through his and patted his hand comfortingly. "Do what you will, Miroku. Do what you will, and all will happen as it is meant to happen."

He looked over at her and offered her a reassuring smile. "I could say the same to you, Teles-sama."

Teles' smile grew a bit wry. "Note that I have made no efforts to uncover what lies in store for me."

"Hm. Given that story, you're quite wise," he replied thoughtfully.

Shrugging, the pregnant woman looked back out at the field. The sun had risen further in the sky, and the delicate spell that seemed to hover over the clearing was broken as the morning warmth melted away the frost. "If this is but a trial, and I am meant to remain with Sesshoumaru, then I will remain with him. If he truly finds this human body repulsive, then...."

Sighing and shaking his head, he gave the woman a brief, fraternal hug. "I hope someday you'll realize that you're not repulsive," he murmured.

"Ah, but little monk," she said lightly, her tone betraying none of her sadness, "you are not a youkai who fell in love with a goddess and ended up mated to a mere human. I do not find mortals disgusting or repulsive. I find my present form unpleasing, uncomfortable, slow... I could go on. But... I am not a youkai either. His perception of things.... may differ somewhat."

"He's a fool if he can't see it," he said, sotto voce.

The former goddess smiled briefly, and for a moment her eyes took on some of her old spark. "Yes, well, he is, after all, just a youkai. One cannot expect too much from him."

Miroku chuckled, nodding. "Yes, that's better."

Just then, a deep, cultured, and wholly recognizable voice resonated through the air. "What can one expect?"