InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Once Upon an Inuyoukai ❯ Cage ( Chapter 27 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

A/N: All righty! This chapter's been through two-and-a-half betas now, so it should be error-free for your reading pleasure.

It only took me one night to write it, but a week to take out the bits I put in the day after when I was sober again. Apparently I write much, much better when I'm drunk. My friends are trying to convince me this is somehow a good thing. Something about how my subconscious mind is actually a better at grammar than my waking mind. Figures.

I really hope you enjoy this chapter. It's one of my favourites thus far-- an all-too-brief happily-ever-after for our fate-struck young lovers. After this chapter, it starts charging full-speed for the climax. Look forward to it!

Love,
Empatheia


"Do you love me?" she asked.

She was dancing again. She did that often, because she knew he loved it. Especially by firelight, because it made him think of caves and green soup and the self she had shown him even before trusting him. Izayoi's arms drew ephemeral trails in the air and he could not lie even if he had wanted to.

"Yes," he answered.

She danced and loved him back.

Seventeen days it had taken him to build safety for his beloved, and now all he needed was an opportunity to show it to her and convince her that it didn't mean any of the things she would immediately--helplessly-- assume it did.

For an instant, the curves of her perfectly reflected those of the curving flames; then the fire moved again and she could not keep up. Or possibly, it could not keep up with her. Her hair flickered like black fire, and at last he could not stand it anymore. Inutaisho stood and moved to his perfectly human lover, catching her whirling body in his arms and pressing his mouth to her throat. Her limbs stilled, but her hair continued on its flight to wrap around them both, a star-swallowing cloak.

He murmured the syllables of her name into her flesh, and she sang his back to him.

There were no clothes to remove, not here in their private windowless sanctuary. There was only skin and breath and hair between them. Izayoi's hands wandered the scar-swept plains of his back, and his traced the tattoo on her shoulder. Why was it that everything he loved was marked by his enemy? There was no escaping him, even here in their hidden valley. The dragon prince was everywhere, but though it should have been easy for him to taint their love, they would not allow it.

Inutaisho turned her around to press his lips to the twining tattoo, not in mockery but in acceptance. Denial of the truth would get neither of them anywhere. Ryuunomei was a part of both of them, a part they would have to deal with sooner or later.

Inutaisho much preferred 'later.'

He did not want to think of everything that had gone wrong in his life, of everything black and frightening and unlovely that made it hard for him to be happy. He did not want to give any of it access to his idyll, but it was coming anyway. He was coming anyway.

Izayoi had to leave, and soon. The pregnancy would make itself known very soon, and she would not be safe there with him and the army, paradoxically enough. None of them would be enough to protect her if the dragon came for her. Her only safety was in distance and concealment. Thus, the castle of pine and river-stone Inutaisho had built for her.

He made love to her with all the gentle ferocity of his heart, both careless of the blood they drew with nails and teeth. Death was so near, so near.

"You must go," he whispered in the aftermath.

"Where?" she murmured back, not understanding.

Inutaisho explained, and felt her stiffen within the circle of his arms.

"I'm pregnant?" Izayoi sounded terrified, and awed, and several other things he couldn't quite name. Her fingers tangled themselves into his hair and would not let go.

"Is it not happy news for you?" He prayed for her negative answer, because he was sure it would break his heart to have his child unwelcome within her. After all they'd been through together, after everything she'd said, everything she'd convinced him of, she had to want it or he would fall apart within himself.

"No!" she cried, dispelling his fear. "Of course it isn't! Wasn't it my idea? I'm just...a little frightened, is all. Raising a child in such a place at such a time..."

Inutaisho heard the echo of Sakenmaru in her voice, and was just a little bit glad. Perhaps she would understand yet. "That is why you must leave. I have built you a palace in a safe place..."

She twisted to look at him, eyes wide, and he couldn't continue. "You're sending me away?"

"For your own safety, and the child's."

The look on her face drove spikes into his gut. As he'd suspected, she immediately assumed it was because he thought she would be useless in battle and training now that she was carrying. That hurt her immensely, and he couldn't even think of the words to deny the silent accusation.

"You lie!"

He shook his head wordlessly, pleading with her to understand. It had nothing to do with weakness.

"I do not," he said gently. "Sakenmaru and Katsuro would never forgive me if I let you stay. I would never forgive myself. Ryuunomei will be looking for this place, and you cannot be here when he finds it. Izayoi, beloved, it has nothing to do with you being unable to be of use. You should know I do not think of you only in such terms. You must be safe, and so you must leave."

As he spoke, she grew steadily more distant, and he could not figure out why.

"I understand," she said remotely, at last. "I will go."

His heart quietly shattered in its ivory cage.

VvvvvvvvvvvvV

The castle was beautiful, as if that was any consolation. The polished wooden strakes of its hallways were dark and smooth and cold beneath her feet, and the paper walls had no secrets, not yet.

The valley too was lovely, stark and tree-grown and untouched by the feet of man. The mountain peaks above her were remote but gave her a sense of protection, as though they were standing sentinel for her, stoic and silent silver-haired warriors.

"Must I?" she asked quietly, and didn't need to hear Inutaisho's reply to know. She touched a pillar, seeing prison in its grainy whorls.

The inevitable thoughts crowded her mind:

He doesn't need me.

I'm just a diversion to distract him from the loss of his wife.

He only wants me because his rival wants me too.

His son is more precious than I am. This castle is to protect the child, not me.

I'm just a vessel for his seed.

He's tired of me and this place is his way of keeping me close enough for amusement but not close enough for annoyance.

She knew in her heart of hearts that the thoughts were absolutely ridiculous and as far from the truth as it was possible to be, but they would not go away and they hurt her so much. Izayoi pressed her fingertips and palms together and tried not to cling to him. She hated this part of herself, the part that Ryuunomei had cultivated and brought to rampant life during her time under his fingers, the part of her that constantly fought against her faith in her lover and her trust in her friends. It would not die, though there was no longer any need for it.

"I have designated a platoon of soldiers to protect this place, and you will have servants enough. I have called them from my home to take care of you. You will want for nothing, I promise you." Empty words, but the meaning behind them was true enough. I love you, please don't be angry.

So Izayoi swallowed her hurt and fury and smiled at him. "Thank you for this," she said. One deep breath. "If the war...when the war ends, come for me?" She had meant it to be a statement, but it had come out as a question instead. That was all right. She wanted to know the answer.

"I promise," he said, and then she was engulfed in him: his robes, his hair, his arms, his heart. There was no part of him that wasn't holding her at that moment.

Izayoi would not allow herself to cry, for his sake rather than her own. There would be plenty of time to cry later on. Demon pregnancies took longer to gestate than human ones, and so it would be next winter by the time she gave birth. Days and weeks and months in which to weep alone, oh yes. There was no need to do it now when it would hurt the person she loved most.

Her eyes burned.

VvvvvvvvvvvvV

It was not until three days after Inutaisho left to return to his duty that she discovered it.

"Oh, no," she whispered when the leader of the guards came to pay obeisance to her.

"Are you so unhappy to see me?" Takemaru said.

Izayoi wondered despairingly how he'd done it. How had he fooled Katsuro and Inutaisho into letting him head the division of soldiers meant to protect her? Neither of them trusted him farther than they could spit. He must have set someone else up as the leader, had them include him in the force, then taken control after Inutaisho's departure.

It was devious and if Inutaisho found out he would do murder, for certain.

She could not allow that. This was Takemaru, after all, her first love and oldest friend. Despite his idiocy, she still loved him and could never let him be hurt. So, whenever Inutaisho came to visit, she would smile and forget as best she could that Takemaru was nearby so that her mate would not realize and kill him.

It was not as simple as it sounded. She was not a good liar. Inutaisho would probably suspect something, and if Katsuro or Sakenmaru or Naruka came, they would definitely suspect. It would take everything she had to protect Takemaru.

She resented having to.

Thus, the next time she saw him, she slapped him as hard as she could. "Idiot," she said.

Takemaru did not understand.

Even later, when she gently applied a poultice to his bruised cheek, he did not understand. She did not feel like explaining it at that time. Perhaps later.

OoooO

Life in the palace was idyllic but boring without the one who had built it. She and the lady courtiers sat and drank tea and sang together, but without Inutaisho there was no real happiness.

Her belly swelled.

For several weeks, Inutaisho did not come. Near the end, desperate and just a little mad with loneliness, she thought about seducing someone, anyone. Her favourite lady-in-waiting, Hikari, perhaps. Like her name, she was bright and kind and made the loneliness just a little bit easier to bear. It would not be so bad to be touched by her. Because she was not a man, it would not feel so much like a betrayal.

However, Izayoi resisted, and was rewarded when at last he returned. She hadn't really wanted anyone else anyway. It was just the touch that she craved.

"Beloved," he said, and his deep voice thrummed through her bones.

She threw herself into his arms and he carried her to the bedroom he had built for them both. That time, there was no blood, only caresses and blushing skin.

His thrusts were like the ebb and flow of the ocean rather than his usual driving fury. For her, it was total ecstasy of a different sort than every time before.

Every day, he became stronger and colder and less the childish man he had been when she had met him. His passion grew with him, and his wisdom. Every day she found more of him that was worthy of love.

OoooooO

Every time he came to visit, he was different than the last time, but never worse. He no longer stumbled over words or showed insecurity. He no longer feared anything but her pain, suffering, or death. Nothing that could be done to him fazed him in the slightest.

The bodies of youkai aged slowly, but sometimes, with great pressure, their spirits could grow in leaps and bounds. Such was Inutaisho's growth, so quickly that even Izayoi could see it.

He was colder, but also more beautiful, and he never shut her out. She could still make him whimper and lose all control when she brought him into her arms and her heart. He was coming into himself, and every day her desire for him expanded.

OooooooO

It was cold in the mountains at night, even in the summer. Her customary clothing left her shivering and chilled after the sun set. Inutaisho traced her goosebumps with his tongue and pressed his hot skin to hers to warm her, and it was another form of love.

The next time he came to visit, he brought her a gift-- a many-layered kimono from the north. The first five layers were of the thinnest silk and of varying shades of blue, his favourite colour. The overlayer was rosy pink and complemented her complexion. She didn't need to hear him say so to know that Naruka had been involved in its selection.

It was a very warm outfit, made warmer by the knowledge that her lover and her friend had selected it for her out of love. Though it was more feminine and royal than she was used to, she wore it every day and learned to love it. She did not, of course, know of its other significance...it was a robe for royalty, for princesses and noblemen's daughters. She would not have cared even had she known.

It delighted him to peel her out of it, layer by silken layer.

It delighted her as well to feel them falling away.

Her old set of forest-green hakama and haori sat in storage, unused.

OooooO

So many steps away from her, Inutaisho and her friends trained an army to kill her oldest enemy and oldest lover. Her loneliness and helplessness and her swiftly expanding pregnancy took the edge off her old causticity. She became strangely soft and womanly.

She no longer swore or screamed at people, but there was a strength to her that every inhabitant of the castle respected.

OooooO

"Hold me," she told him, and it wasn't really a request.

Inutaisho smoothed the wrinkles out of her silk with his fingers as he encircled her. She had changed in her stay in this castle of clouds and mist and summer dew, but every change only brought her closer to the true Izayoi he had seen in her firelit dance in that cave, so long ago. He loved her with everything he had, because he had nothing else to give her despite his wishes. If he could, he would have given her everything-- the world, the stars, the moon, the creatures and growing things of the world, everything that made her happy. Because he couldn't, he touched her and tried to say with his fingers and his mouth what he could not say with words.

He liked to believe she understood.

OoooooO

Takemaru watched from the shadows and hated with enough passion to turn the world on his own.

Izayoi never had words for him beyond 'thank you for keeping me safe' and 'isn't the weather nice?' He hated it and hated her and loved every second of it.

She was everything to him. There were many emotions that a human was capable of feeling: love, hate, desire, regret, contentment, anger, fear, so many others in addition to those. Izayoi inspired all of them in him, and she didn't even seem to understand.

"Let me love you," he cried to her, but she never heard him. All she heard was 'do you need anything, Izayoi-hime? Is there anything I can do for you?' She never wanted anything from him, and he had everything to give. It was a tragedy in green, and she didn't even see it.

Takemaru was not an evil person. He was a man with a heart as large as the sea and as accepting. Yet he was just as capable of hate and resentment, and it was in that direction that he turned when Izayoi smiled and refused his devotion.

He had a sword. He could protect her with his life, if it came to that. He was not powerful but he was strong. He hoped it would be enough when the time came.

Swords were also good for more than protection.

OoooooooO

"Inutaisho!" she cried joyfully as she rushed across the courtyard to greet him. The silken gift she wore was a hindrance, but she could not bring herself to mind too much when he was right there and waiting for her.

She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his, memorizing the shape of them for future reference.

"Did you miss me?" he asked, a joke if she had ever heard one.

Izayoi knew Takemaru was watching from the shadows, but for a moment she was wise and knew that it was not her fault that he was in pain. That was his stone to carry, not hers--even if it broke him, it still did not belong to her. When Inutaisho had his arms around her, she had no problems.

Inutaisho taught her a new level of passion that night, and she accepted and loved him back as well as she could. Human passion was just as powerful-- in a different way-- than demon passion, as she demonstrated to him time and time again.

He loved to touch and kiss her belly. It felt strange but pleasant to her to have it touched. There was life, burgeoning and nascent, within herself, and she felt too small to contain its purity and overflowing light. It was a fierce life, and a beautiful one. She couldn't wait to see its face.

Her fear that one or both of them would die too soon for her child's birth did not fade. Rather, she slowly learned to live with it. It was best to simply trust in the divine and let it do as it would.

OooooO

Inutaisho visited as much as he could over the chill mountain summer.

Izayoi showed him her favourite places to pick wildflowers and herbs, and her favourite places to walk and sing. The mountains around held many treasures, and she loved to share them with him. He loved how she was almost happy when she was breathing the gentle hanging scent of pines and wild grasses.

They grew older by the day, but Izayoi seemed to become younger every time he saw her. Perhaps it was the falling away of ancient memory.

Younger, and more beautiful.

Despite her heavy belly, she still danced for him, and had a different colour of careful grace than before. She lost nothing, and gained true beauty, more and more of it as moments flickered and passed.

Increasingly, all he could think was Mai would have loved her.

Mai would have loved her so much.

OooooO

Izayoi had known all along that her stolen moments of tranquillity and happiness would eventually end, but she had not expected this.

She cried hot silver tears onto her crystal and pressed trembling fingers to her face.

So that was it. That was how the rest of her life would go. So be it, she thought. Then...

He will be so angry. So angry.

A/N: I do not apologize for the cliffhanger. You'll thank me for it later. Bwahaha!

Takemaru is one of my favourite characters, and I feel kind of bad for the way he's treated in the third movie. They don't spend nearly enough time reminding us that he was only a heartbroken human, in my opinion. Thus, he gets some love in my version of history. Heee.

Leave a note to tell me what you think! Am I on the right track?

Love,
Empatheia