InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Of Might and Magic ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: blood_and_gold 
Lost in a strange land, Emilia makes the potentially fatal mistake of running from one demon into another... Sesshoumaru.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Hentai / Fantasy / Romance | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 09.28.2010 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.1K | Visits: 165 | Status: Work In Progress
Lost in a strange land, Emilia makes the potentially fatal mistake of running from one demon into another... Sesshoumaru.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Hentai / Fantasy / Romance | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 09.28.2010 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.1K | Visits: 165 | Status: Work In Progress
Author’s Note: Finally finished it! Phew. Now, I’m going to acknowledge from the off that this chapter is not as polished as I would like it to be but it was so horrifically difficult to write, I can deal with that! Sesshoumaru is so hard to portray! I can only hope I’ve done him justice – reviews and suggestions are very welcome. Next time, some fun with phonemes.
Chapter One
Chapter One
White flower, pink flower, white flower...“Oh!”
Rin gave a cry of delight as her soft, chocolate eyes fell upon the blossom, its petals so rich a shade of scarlet they were luminous in the moonlight. She had been looking for what seemed like hours for another red one and finally she had found one. Positively beaming, the girl plucked up the little flower from its leafy abode and tucked it into her obi with the other.
It had started as a petty game, something with which to amuse herself. Sesshoumaru and Jaken were deep in one of their grown-up’s conversations and, whilst her Lord had not shown any displeasure at her presence, Rin had soon gotten tired of Jaken glaring at her for humming or fidgeting or sighing. So, she had decided to leave her guardians to it and had let the night forest swallow her up. She had not been wandering long when she had stumbled across a blossom tree, whose pink blooms adorned the ground like confetti. The girl had gathered up the nicest of them, thinking they would make a pretty wreath for her hair. She had wondered for a moment what her wreath might look like on her Lordship’s hair but she had dismissed the thought at once: Lord Sesshoumaru was a warrior and warriors did not wear pink flowers in their hair.
She had thought nothing more on the matter until she had spied the first red one. It was a crimson dog rose, far too apt a discovery to be ignored. At once, Rin’s mind had raced with illicit thoughts – imagine this flower against her Lord’s beautiful silver hair! How striking it would look! Not to mention, it matched his kimono. Yes, the girl decided there and then that she must find more red flowers, enough to make a beautiful wreath for a handsome youkai ... or at least enough perhaps to braid into his hair. The fact that she had yet to get close enough to his hair to touch it, let alone braid it, was quite beside the point. Her Lordship was not unreasonable – not to her. She felt sure she could persuade him to indulge her.
However, there was a canker in the rose of her plan. Red flowers, it seemed, were few at far between, at least in the cool, dark caress of the night. She had found white ones and pink ones, yellow ones and orange ones, but no more red. Now, of course, she had two, but two blossoms were not enough to make a wreath. Perhaps, she thought dolefully, as her eyes scanned the forest floor, she could simply tuck one behind each of his pointed ears; surely that would look as nice?
Her contemplations were distracted quite suddenly by the appearance of voices. They were soft and distant for the moment, but growing steadily clearer. Shielding her precious hoard, Rin straightened up and cocked her head, as she had so often seen Sesshoumaru do when he was listening. There were definitely two voices, that was for sure. She could also ascertain that one was male and the other female. However, what the voices were saying she could not fathom for they were issuing for the strangest collection of sounds she had ever heard. At once, Rin felt a little fearful and she backed out of the open and against a tree, wondering if she could make herself so small that these curious creatures, whatever they might be, would not notice her. The voices were fast becoming louder, closer and Rin’s pulse quickened. She knew in her heart that she was in no real danger, that Sesshoumaru was close enough by to rescue her should she need it, but anticipation was getting the better of her. Soon enough, there came a rustle in the bushes just opposite her and to her surprise, a single figure burst through the undergrowth. Rin let out a breath of wonder; it was a woman, though a woman the likes of which she had never seen before. This woman was fairly tall, with white skin and pointed features, and was dressed in peculiar clothing– a heavy gown of some thick, shimmering green fabric with elaborate gold trimmings. Stranger still was her hair, which was a colour Rin had trouble describing. Was it pale gold? Goldie-yellow? She was unsure, but it was certainly an unusual colour for hair to be. She appeared to be alone, save for a gray cat who was trotting obediently at her feet. Rin wondered where the other speaker, the male speaker, had disappeared to. She hoped with chagrin that he did not run into Lord Sesshoumaru.
Across from her, the golden haired woman stopped in her tracks and peered curiously at the spot where Rin was standing. She had kind eyes, the child noted; soft, round and blue, like deep ocean waters and midnight skies. Rin’s anxiety evaporated at once and she took a brave step towards the woman. She rather wanted to pet the cat, who was mewling at his mistress’s ankles, but decided that it would not be polite – not, at least, until they’d been introduced.
“Hello,” she said, gently. “My name is Rin. What is yours?”
The woman did not reply; her face merely crumpled into an expression of dismal perplexity. She glanced incomprehensibly down at her cat, who meowed again, before looking to meet Rin’s eyes. Slowly and quite deliberately, she shook her head, and Rin took it to mean she could not understand. Once again, the child felt anxiety blossom within her, though she was not afraid as much as embarrassed and unsure what to do. This time, however, her distress did not go unnoticed. A little way away, she felt Sesshoumaru’s youki flare in response and knew that he was coming. Apparently, the woman had felt him too for she was looking wildly around the dark forest, as though trying to discern the oncoming presence. Her blue eyes were wide with disquiet and Rin felt sorry that she could not say anything to reassure her. She could only watch at the woman visibly steeled herself and, turning again to her cat, said something in her own language. Rin was just thinking that this was odd behaviour indeed when the cat turned and spoke back, in the very same voice she had heard earlier! Unwittingly, she gave a cry of surprise and both cat and woman stared at her. Nearby, she heard her Lord call in her name in a menacing growl and she felt sorry that she had shouted, for now he would think she was in trouble. She could just see the woman mouthing her name silently, realisation dawning on her pretty face, when he burst through the trees with a snarl, his sword drawn. The woman gave an unmistakable gasp of fear.
Rin gave a cry of delight as her soft, chocolate eyes fell upon the blossom, its petals so rich a shade of scarlet they were luminous in the moonlight. She had been looking for what seemed like hours for another red one and finally she had found one. Positively beaming, the girl plucked up the little flower from its leafy abode and tucked it into her obi with the other.
It had started as a petty game, something with which to amuse herself. Sesshoumaru and Jaken were deep in one of their grown-up’s conversations and, whilst her Lord had not shown any displeasure at her presence, Rin had soon gotten tired of Jaken glaring at her for humming or fidgeting or sighing. So, she had decided to leave her guardians to it and had let the night forest swallow her up. She had not been wandering long when she had stumbled across a blossom tree, whose pink blooms adorned the ground like confetti. The girl had gathered up the nicest of them, thinking they would make a pretty wreath for her hair. She had wondered for a moment what her wreath might look like on her Lordship’s hair but she had dismissed the thought at once: Lord Sesshoumaru was a warrior and warriors did not wear pink flowers in their hair.
She had thought nothing more on the matter until she had spied the first red one. It was a crimson dog rose, far too apt a discovery to be ignored. At once, Rin’s mind had raced with illicit thoughts – imagine this flower against her Lord’s beautiful silver hair! How striking it would look! Not to mention, it matched his kimono. Yes, the girl decided there and then that she must find more red flowers, enough to make a beautiful wreath for a handsome youkai ... or at least enough perhaps to braid into his hair. The fact that she had yet to get close enough to his hair to touch it, let alone braid it, was quite beside the point. Her Lordship was not unreasonable – not to her. She felt sure she could persuade him to indulge her.
However, there was a canker in the rose of her plan. Red flowers, it seemed, were few at far between, at least in the cool, dark caress of the night. She had found white ones and pink ones, yellow ones and orange ones, but no more red. Now, of course, she had two, but two blossoms were not enough to make a wreath. Perhaps, she thought dolefully, as her eyes scanned the forest floor, she could simply tuck one behind each of his pointed ears; surely that would look as nice?
Her contemplations were distracted quite suddenly by the appearance of voices. They were soft and distant for the moment, but growing steadily clearer. Shielding her precious hoard, Rin straightened up and cocked her head, as she had so often seen Sesshoumaru do when he was listening. There were definitely two voices, that was for sure. She could also ascertain that one was male and the other female. However, what the voices were saying she could not fathom for they were issuing for the strangest collection of sounds she had ever heard. At once, Rin felt a little fearful and she backed out of the open and against a tree, wondering if she could make herself so small that these curious creatures, whatever they might be, would not notice her. The voices were fast becoming louder, closer and Rin’s pulse quickened. She knew in her heart that she was in no real danger, that Sesshoumaru was close enough by to rescue her should she need it, but anticipation was getting the better of her. Soon enough, there came a rustle in the bushes just opposite her and to her surprise, a single figure burst through the undergrowth. Rin let out a breath of wonder; it was a woman, though a woman the likes of which she had never seen before. This woman was fairly tall, with white skin and pointed features, and was dressed in peculiar clothing– a heavy gown of some thick, shimmering green fabric with elaborate gold trimmings. Stranger still was her hair, which was a colour Rin had trouble describing. Was it pale gold? Goldie-yellow? She was unsure, but it was certainly an unusual colour for hair to be. She appeared to be alone, save for a gray cat who was trotting obediently at her feet. Rin wondered where the other speaker, the male speaker, had disappeared to. She hoped with chagrin that he did not run into Lord Sesshoumaru.
Across from her, the golden haired woman stopped in her tracks and peered curiously at the spot where Rin was standing. She had kind eyes, the child noted; soft, round and blue, like deep ocean waters and midnight skies. Rin’s anxiety evaporated at once and she took a brave step towards the woman. She rather wanted to pet the cat, who was mewling at his mistress’s ankles, but decided that it would not be polite – not, at least, until they’d been introduced.
“Hello,” she said, gently. “My name is Rin. What is yours?”
The woman did not reply; her face merely crumpled into an expression of dismal perplexity. She glanced incomprehensibly down at her cat, who meowed again, before looking to meet Rin’s eyes. Slowly and quite deliberately, she shook her head, and Rin took it to mean she could not understand. Once again, the child felt anxiety blossom within her, though she was not afraid as much as embarrassed and unsure what to do. This time, however, her distress did not go unnoticed. A little way away, she felt Sesshoumaru’s youki flare in response and knew that he was coming. Apparently, the woman had felt him too for she was looking wildly around the dark forest, as though trying to discern the oncoming presence. Her blue eyes were wide with disquiet and Rin felt sorry that she could not say anything to reassure her. She could only watch at the woman visibly steeled herself and, turning again to her cat, said something in her own language. Rin was just thinking that this was odd behaviour indeed when the cat turned and spoke back, in the very same voice she had heard earlier! Unwittingly, she gave a cry of surprise and both cat and woman stared at her. Nearby, she heard her Lord call in her name in a menacing growl and she felt sorry that she had shouted, for now he would think she was in trouble. She could just see the woman mouthing her name silently, realisation dawning on her pretty face, when he burst through the trees with a snarl, his sword drawn. The woman gave an unmistakable gasp of fear.
***
Emilia stared from the small, dirty child before her to the demon who had appeared, snarling, from the undergrowth. The girl – Rin he’d called her – was tugging on the fabric of his clothing urgently, gabbling away and pointing at her as though trying to explain. Emilia’s heart was pounding like a badly conducted drum line and she felt sure he could probably hear it, could probably sense her fear. For once, she did not care; she was terrified and she saw no reason to pretend otherwise. At her ankles, she felt Astaroth stiffen and looked down to see his fur on end, hackles raised.
“I told you this land was crawling with them,” he hissed, and his outburst drew the demon’s gaze away from the child and once more to them. “Just my luck,” Astaroth added. “A dog demon.”
Emilia glanced curiously towards the demon and was relieved to see he was putting away his sword. He looked nothing like a dog, she thought, as she took in his appearance. In fact, he looked just like a human, or at least a passable imitation thereof, for there were a few minor discrepancies.
She tried not to dwell on his unusual markings or unworldly hair and focused on the matter at hand. Of all the times for a language barrier to cause problems, this was not one of them. The demon was approaching her and, though his weapon had been stowed away, Emilia was sure he did not require steel to cause her harm. Deftly, he took her by the chin and lifted her gaze up to meet his own. Emilia’s eyes met his golden ones and she had to force herself not to gasp. He spoke, in a low, calm voice that was almost mocking of her current predicament, though of course she did not understand his words. At her feet, Astaroth was hissing his displeasure.
“I don’t understand you,” Emilia told him miserably, though she knew her attempts to communicate were futile. Sure enough, the demon simply blinked at her words before speaking again, laying a more pronounced stress on the sounds that were his language. Emilia wanted to laugh, a hollow humourless laugh, but she decided against it. She tried to glance at the little girl, to will her to explain again, but the demon simply jerked her chin back round to his gaze.
“Unhand her, you brute!” Astaroth snarled from down on the ground, and to Emilia’s horror, he made a swipe for the demon’s ankles with a clawed paw. The demon, who did not seem at all fazed by the notion of a talking cat, blinked disdainfully at the familiar. He had been done no real damage, save for a few snags in his heavy silk pants, but nevertheless he rewarded Astaroth with a swift kick for his efforts, sending him flying into a bush.
“Don’t you touch him!” cried Emilia, furiously, and before she could stop herself, she had slapped the demon with all the strength she could muster. A sickening horror flooded her body at once and a low growl in the demon’s throat made her blood run cold. He lifted his face, which was marked pink with the imprint of her hand, and Emilia saw a flash of red in his amber eyes. He snarled, his fanged teeth bared; behind him, the child he protected began to shout frantically in her unfamiliar tongue but he appeared to pay her no heed. Spitting with fury, he bore down upon Emilia, tightening the grip on her face until it hurt. Enough was enough, the witch decided. She had to act – and quickly. While she still had some control of her jaw, she uttered a soft incantation to put an end to their language problems.
“I told you this land was crawling with them,” he hissed, and his outburst drew the demon’s gaze away from the child and once more to them. “Just my luck,” Astaroth added. “A dog demon.”
Emilia glanced curiously towards the demon and was relieved to see he was putting away his sword. He looked nothing like a dog, she thought, as she took in his appearance. In fact, he looked just like a human, or at least a passable imitation thereof, for there were a few minor discrepancies.
She tried not to dwell on his unusual markings or unworldly hair and focused on the matter at hand. Of all the times for a language barrier to cause problems, this was not one of them. The demon was approaching her and, though his weapon had been stowed away, Emilia was sure he did not require steel to cause her harm. Deftly, he took her by the chin and lifted her gaze up to meet his own. Emilia’s eyes met his golden ones and she had to force herself not to gasp. He spoke, in a low, calm voice that was almost mocking of her current predicament, though of course she did not understand his words. At her feet, Astaroth was hissing his displeasure.
“I don’t understand you,” Emilia told him miserably, though she knew her attempts to communicate were futile. Sure enough, the demon simply blinked at her words before speaking again, laying a more pronounced stress on the sounds that were his language. Emilia wanted to laugh, a hollow humourless laugh, but she decided against it. She tried to glance at the little girl, to will her to explain again, but the demon simply jerked her chin back round to his gaze.
“Unhand her, you brute!” Astaroth snarled from down on the ground, and to Emilia’s horror, he made a swipe for the demon’s ankles with a clawed paw. The demon, who did not seem at all fazed by the notion of a talking cat, blinked disdainfully at the familiar. He had been done no real damage, save for a few snags in his heavy silk pants, but nevertheless he rewarded Astaroth with a swift kick for his efforts, sending him flying into a bush.
“Don’t you touch him!” cried Emilia, furiously, and before she could stop herself, she had slapped the demon with all the strength she could muster. A sickening horror flooded her body at once and a low growl in the demon’s throat made her blood run cold. He lifted his face, which was marked pink with the imprint of her hand, and Emilia saw a flash of red in his amber eyes. He snarled, his fanged teeth bared; behind him, the child he protected began to shout frantically in her unfamiliar tongue but he appeared to pay her no heed. Spitting with fury, he bore down upon Emilia, tightening the grip on her face until it hurt. Enough was enough, the witch decided. She had to act – and quickly. While she still had some control of her jaw, she uttered a soft incantation to put an end to their language problems.
“To ease us all of any tension,
Grant both parties comprehension.”
The effect was instantaneous. The girl’s cries and the demon’s wrathful mutterings became suddenly intelligible.Grant both parties comprehension.”
“Lord Sesshoumaru, please!” the child was begging. “Please don’t hurt her!”
The demon said nothing, did nothing, though his grip on Emilia’s face was still rather painful. His eyes were glittering with vengeful fury but something – the girl, perhaps - held him back. Hoping against hope that her spell worked both ways, Emilia decided to diffuse the situation as quickly as possible.
“Put me down,” she said, in a soft, dignified voice that was neither commanding nor pleading. The demon’s eyes widened in surprise and, though he did not release her, her sudden acquisition of his mother tongue caused him to relax his grip.
“About time too,” came Astaroth’s voice from her feet, and at once the child began to squeal in delight at this rather un-catlike gesture. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten your powers.”
Emilia ignored her familiar’s sarcasm, her gaze fixed on the demon who was still holding her face.
“You speak now,” he murmured, and his tone was midway between haughty and amused. Emilia frowned, if only a little, and nodded as best as she could.
“Indeed,” she replied, “though I could speak better if you were to let go of my jaw.”
She was taken aback when he obliged, his golden eyes fixing her with a searching stare. Now that their little fray had been mediated, he appeared to be taking her in, judging her. His nostrils were flaring ever so slightly, as though he were trying to discern some identifying scent.
“You are human,” he proclaimed eventually, and, had she not been studying him so carefully, she might have missed the tiny ghost of a smirk that pulled at his lips.
“She’s a witch, actually,” Astaroth sniffed, as though highly offended by this blatant understatement, and Emilia felt a gentle rush of loyal warmth towards him.
“Which would make you a familiar, I suppose,” the demon countered, making no attempt this time to conceal his scorn. Emilia was not sure of the reason for such disdain. As far as she was aware, familiars were demons too, only confined specifically to animal form. She made a mental note to ask Astaroth later, who was scowling at the demon as deeply as his cat’s eyes would allow.
“Look,” Emilia began, slowly, taking a slight step forward between Astaroth and the demon. “We aren’t here to cause any trouble. We simply need to acquire transport and for that we need a wizard village. Do you know where we might find one?”
The demon glanced at her with his cold, yellow eyes, his expression unfathomable. Now that he did not have her in a choke hold, Emilia could appreciate that he was in fact very beautiful, even with his peculiar markings. His hair – the most astonishing shade of silver-blue Emilia had ever seen – glittered subtly in the moonlight, lifted here and there by a gentle breeze. She could feel her cheeks beginning to flush under the intensity of his gaze. Were she perhaps some silly girlish maiden, she might have looked away; but Emilia was a lady and she held his stare with dignity.
“I know of one,” he said eventually, in a disinterested voice. “But it lies far west of here. You will never find it alone.”
Emilia felt only a slight stab of annoyance. She had managed so far to navigate the world without assistance: what trouble was one more stretch of land?
“As it happens, the village you seek is on route to my own destination,” he went on. “But I see no reason why I should direct you.”
“Perhaps you have no choice?” Astaroth suggested, darkly. “She’s quite capable of killing you, if she wants to.”
“Astaroth!” Emilia hissed, glaring wide-eyed at her familiar. The demon, however, seemed to find this notion rather funny, for her was smiling – a cruel, cold sort of smile that only served to double Emilia’s mortification.
“I find that unlikely” he murmured, his voice rich with amusement. “Your mistress could make no move against me when her life was in danger. What makes you think she could do so otherwise?”
“You took her by surprise, nothing more,” Astaroth shot back. “In her right mind, Emilia could quite easily dispose of you.”
Emilia sighed. It was futile, she decided, to engage him once again in argument. As much as she did not fully like this cold, arrogant creature, she needed his help; there had to be some way she could persuade him. How, though, was another question. She had no real objects of value on her person, though she had the feeling he would not be interested in tawdry treasures. He certainly did not seem in need of her assistance, be she magical or not. She had no idea what she could possibly offer him to gain his assistance. However, it appeared that she might not need to. The girl he had called Rin had finally stepped forward, standing uncertainly at the demon’s side. Now that she was closer, Emilia could see she was about thirteen, though certainly quite small for her age, with a sweet countenance and dark, inquisitive eyes. She tugged softly on the demon’s clothing and he turned patiently, almost habitually, down towards her.
“Lord Sesshoumaru,” she began, timidly. “Please can she come? It would be nice to have another girl to talk to.”
At her words, the demon’s eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise, and though he quickly concealed it, Emilia could almost see his mind working. She glanced at Rin, who was regarding him with imploring eyes.
“Fine,” he conceded, eventually, and Emilia thought she heard the tiniest trace of something like sadness beneath his cool tome. “She may come, though if she or her familiar get in my way, they shall both be making their journey alone.”
Rin’s face broke into a warm smile, which was not returned.
“Thank you Lord Sesshoumaru,” she bade him graciously, though he brushed her words aside with an impatient wave of his clawed hand.
“Come,” he murmured. “Jaken is waiting for us. Tell your new companion to bring her belongings.”
He gave her another furtive glance before turning and starting back towards the forest. Rin glanced back and beamed at Emilia, gesturing at her to follow.
“Come on Astaroth,” the young witch smiled wryly. “It would not do to keep our new Lord waiting.”
The familiar cast his mistress a foul look, though he followed nonetheless, muttering all the while under his breath about the distrustfulness of fully fledged demons.
He gave her another furtive glance before turning and starting back towards the forest. Rin glanced back and beamed at Emilia, gesturing at her to follow.
“Come on Astaroth,” the young witch smiled wryly. “It would not do to keep our new Lord waiting.”
The familiar cast his mistress a foul look, though he followed nonetheless, muttering all the while under his breath about the distrustfulness of fully fledged demons.