InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Sickness ❯ The Cure ( Chapter 2 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

This was not as he had intended.

He had intended to return to their camp and find Rin sleeping there. He had intended to sit by their fire and watch her sleep. Knowing her habits, she would eventually kick her cover free, leaving her bare and overexposed the rest of the night. He would watch her shiver and shake, or perhaps sneeze. Sufficiently certain that she had indeed caught chill, he would then rise from his spot, crouch by her side and reposition her blanket, perhaps taking Jaken's and adding it to her pile. Whilst he made sure the covers were properly secured beneath her slumbering form, he would take the opportunity to observe her more closely, unseen by the other members of their party.

He had intended to study her face--the slope of her forehead, the arch of her eyebrows, the thickness of her lashes, the crease in her eyes. He knew, but never took the time to notice how the crease seamlessly merged into the bridge of her nose, angling slightly upward, then flaring out to form her nostrils, resting just above the contours of her cheeks, which framed the pout of her peach-colored lips. Then there was the point of her chin, the thin flesh of her throat, the overall smoothness of her skin, and the softness of her hair.

Of course, these were not all things he could discern by sight alone; he was not above touching her--only a finger or two with the pads of the exploring digits. The claws were out of the question. She might start suddenly, and it wouldn't do for him to inadvertently slice her flesh, spilling even a drop of her blood. The thought of her in pain (no matter how minute) for even an instant twisted his intestines into unnatural shapes, possibly causing him more discomfort than her. But . . . if what his mother said was true, (though he heartily hoped it proved to be false) her blood would line the earth this night, and she would experience, as his lady mother had put it, "the most exquisite pain of her life." Not because of his intent, but because of nature's design.

Initially, he had struggled against this . . . fact of life, but his mother assured him that it was altogether unavoidable, and if he ever hoped to experience any measure of peace while continuing to co-exist with the girl, it had to be done. "The heart wants what the heart wants," he recalled her saying, "and it can seldom be denied." She'd feigned a sigh then looked directly at him. "Unless, of course, the object of your obsession has moved beyond your reach . . . or is moved beyond your reach."

Her point of view was not lost on him: leave the girl to her fate and all this would end. No more "sickness," no more restless nights or heavy limbs. True, he would . . . miss her from time to time: the way she smiled, the sound of her laugh, the light trampling of her feet, and that . . .

He inhaled deeply. That sweet scent of earth, wind and rain combined with fresh-fallen snow and sakura in bloom.

"You could put her somewhere out of the way," she'd suggested. They'd ventured from the palace exterior, through the receiving chamber and down the long corridor leading to the Imperial Garden. He hadn't stepped foot there since his father's demise. Unbeknownst to many, his great father had been a master of ikebana, the Japanese art of flower arranging.

"Somewhere you normally never go," she continued. "Or, better yet, have that little youkai take her somewhere and forbid him to tell you where. That way, even if tempted you couldn't go to her . . . And your enemies couldn't take advantage of her."

That had been Izayoi's fate, InuYasha's mother. The InuTaisho had left her unattended for mere moments when a human rival snatched her from her spot, held her captive in his home, and then killed her. Fortunately, his father had already had Tenseiga forged, and had no problem dispensing with the messengers from the other world, returning his . . . beloved to life.

That would not be the case with Rin. Should she die again . . .

He felt a tightness form in his chest, cold and merciless. It threatened to squeeze the very life from him, destroying everything he ever was and everything he ever hoped to be. It gripped him like a vice and wouldn't let go. Despite the warmth and brightness of the garden, he felt a shiver shoot down his spine, bitter bleakness absorbing all life and color around him. If he could suffocate, he was certain he would.

His Rin. Cold. Still. Silent. Soulless.

The sight of her then . . . The scent of her then . . . The feel of her in his one. Good. Arm.

"Face your fears," she stooped by one of the flower formations, seemingly haphazardly arranged in a wide wooden planter. He had made that during his first lesson with his father. Sesshoumaru counted it among his failures; his father saw it as a success. She stood again, having flattened the soil and flicked any clinging residue from her claws. "Know that one day she will leave you, and no force on heaven or earth can change that. Mortal or youkai, it is the ultimate fate of every living creature--save a blessed or cursed few." She lightly stroked the Meidou-seki at the center of her chest.

She was so small, so light . . . so indescribably . . .

"You wake one morning to find them not where they should be. Their futon is cold. Their bedclothes unworn. Dinner uneaten. Breakfast unordered . . . You just know that there's something wrong, but you can't help but pray everything is all right, and this is just some bad dream you're having an extreme difficulty waking from."

He foreswore Tenseiga and dropped to the ground. Such indescribable pain . . .

"Without word, without warning . . . They're just gone. Never to return."

For one split second, he thought he'd seen . . . tears in his mother's eyes. But as quickly as they'd seemed to come, his lady mother bid them disappear with an overly cheerful smile. "But, it is the way of things, no? And no matter how we hate them for leaving us . . . we can't help but love them all the more."

Sesshoumaru silenlty took in his mother's words, carefully considering everything she had to say.

"Well," she'd asked. "What will you do?"

"I will not send her away. She does not wish to go, and having associated with me, her life will be fraught with danger wherever she may go. If she is with me, I can assure her safety."

"How noble of you, Sesshoumaru." Her smile was for show and not to be taken any other way. "And when your protection fails?"

"Fails," he'd repeated.

"Unless you intend to permanently attach her to you in some way, you can't watch over her every moment of every day. Like now, for instance, who's watching over while you're here seeking your 'cure?' Certainly not that little youkai," she laughed.

"I know when she needs me," he said simply.

"And if you aren't enough?" she asked. "Will you be able to live with yourself knowing you let her die?"

He didn't wish to voice the answer he knew to be lying deep inside him. It wasn't shame that sealed his lips, but his mother's recent display. She'd already lost his father to the love of a mortal woman, would she stand to see the same thing happen to her son?

"Well?" she quirked an eyebrow at him.

"No," he quietly confided. "If it is a choice of my life or hers--"

"So you want her to watch you die, instead. How considerate."

Sesshoumaru growled. No one cut him off.

"Calm yourself," she chided. "I simply wish to make sure you're truly prepared to deal with the repercussions of your actions . . . or inactions. Ultimately, it is your decision. As your mother, I only want it to be an informed one.

"If you want her, take her." She gave him a sly grin. "Where you can, when you can and as often as you can. Make up more than you fight. Never go to bed angry, and enjoy every moment you spend together because the gods only know when it will be your last."

Again, he couldn't help but feel the tiniest twinge of guilt. "If you forbid it . . ."

"Nonsense," she scoffed, then shooed him away. "Go . . . mark some territory."

She smiled at him, and he found himself smiling back. He turned to take leave of the Imperial Garden, then stopped.

"What is it, now, Sesshoumaru? I've told you everything you should know and quite a few things I wish your father had known."

"Did he . . . Father . . . did he ever . . . love us?"

The Lady of the Western Lands laughed out loud.

"This Sesshoumaru was not making a joke."

"I know, my son. I know."

"Then . . ."

"Your human isn't getting any younger, you know."

Sesshoumaru nodded "I take my leave of you, then."

She turned her head off to the side, dismissing him with a flick of her wrist. "As you will."

He hesitated a moment longer, then turned and plucked a stem from his first arrangement. The stem was hard and inflexible, but on its offshoots were tiny yellow flowers with delicate petals. His father referred to them as "yellow treasures;" its proper name was Kingyo.

His mother grunted lightly, feigning disinterest in the scene unfolding before her.

"For you," he said simply.

She took it, he cut another one free and took his leave of the palace.

He'd taken the bloom and tucked it just inside his armor. He'd intended to give it to Rin. That was, of course, if he'd discovered her sleeping. As he'd said, there were things he'd wished to do to her while no one was watching, certain things he wasn't quite prepared to express out in the open, subject to the scrutiny of others. Of course, he didn't expect her to sleep through his inspection of her. In fact, he was quite hopeful that his ministrations would stir her into alertness. Once awake he had intended to present her with his flower and take her someplace quiet. He was quite certain the girl would be confused by his course of action, and he would need to explain things to her. There, in the depths of the forest under the cover of night, he would make her aware of their current predicament and present her with the only logical conclusion to the situation.

She was to be his.

"Sesshoumaru-sama is quiet."

He turned to face her. He had no clear concept of where they were; his mind had been on other things. He'd simply started walking, then stopped when he came to the foot of a mountain, its peak breaking through the skeletal canopy of trees. He stood there at its base, marginally aware of the approaching footsteps behind him, idly pondering the stony protuberance in their path. Had it not impeded their progress, perhaps he would've continued walking, and she would have continued following him till the ends of the earth.

Oddly enough, that prospect seemed more appealing than the business at hand.

"Sesshoumaru-sama?"

He was certain that he wanted her, and that she wanted him, but how to proceed . . . Finding her crouched in the forest instead of sleeping in their campsite had caused a considerable change in his plans.

But he had intended to take her someplace secluded, and this spot would certainly suffice as well as any other.

In the grass on her knees. Bending over a low-lying tree limb, while he stood in the rear. Resting her back against the slope of the mountain as he elevated her leg. Or her dangling from the branches above, her legs locked around him, her ankles digging into the sensitive skin of his lower back.

He fought back the low growl which wished to rise from the center of his chest. You don't want to scare her, he reminded himself. You want her willing, pliant . . . prepared.

But looking at her across the clearing, she didn't look at all prepared. From this distance she seemed quite small and defenseless, lost. He knew that if he were to take a few measured steps forward, she would increase in height, coming up to the middle of his chest. But his eyes could not deny that she was not quite as his mother had described her.

Her eyes were wide and her lips were, indeed, pouty. Her waist was narrow, as defined by her obi, and her legs, though covered with her kimono, did account for the vast proportion of her height. The rest of her, however, remained a mystery. She was wearing far too many layers to accurately discern what was hers and what was handmade.

"Come closer," he called out to her.

She gave a tentative glance around the clearing, as if expecting to see secret eyes spying upon their private party.

"There is no one here," he said.

He heard her swallow and detected a notable rise in her heartrate. Her eyes were wide, her upper set of teeth lightly gnawing on her lower lip.

"When did you become so insolent?" he asked, seeing that her feet remained stationary. "Come to me."

She continued to cling to her spot on the far edge of the clearing, standing just in front of the treeline several yards away from him. She lowered her head. "Rin doesn't wish to further offend Sesshoumaru-sama with her unpleasant scent."

"Unpleasant?" he questioned.

She dug the tip of her big toe into the ground, wringing her hands in front of her. "Rin made her hand dirty so Sesshoumaru-sama had to clean it."

He would've laughed if she didn't look so serious. The Lord of the Western Lands would never put anything unpleasant in his mouth . . . But that did give him an idea.

He wasn't in the habit of manipulating people to his own ends, but he would do anything to eliminate the growing awkwardness of the situation.

"Indeed," he said. "You are in need of a thorough cleansing if you are to continue in the company of this Sesshoumaru."

Rin frowned. She'd never displeased Sesshoumaru-sama so much at one time.

"Come," he commanded.

Obediently, she trekked across the clearing to stand before him. She'd walked many miles in her travels with Sesshoumaru-sama, and she'd never been inclined to complain in the least. But her legs never felt so heavy and the distance never seemed so far as the span currently separating them. She could feel him watching her, and she could imagine his growing displeasure at her all-too-human pace. She stumbled twice on her way to him, her feet tangling in the hem of her robe, and once she completely lost her footing, tripping, but not falling over an errant root, protruding too far from its natural environment--unseen beneath the forest floor.

Once she came within arms' reach of him, she stopped. He'd always been taller than her, but strangely, she'd never felt so small as she did at that moment. She kept her eyes to the ground.

"Undress."

Her heart lept up to her throat, but she forced it back down to beat a loud and altogether too quick rhythm within the confines of her chest. "U--undress?" she stuttered.

"Does one bathe fully clothed?"

Refusing to make eye contact, she made a careful sweep of their surroundings. There wasn't a river, lake or stream anywhere that she could see. And this wasn't the territory for hot springs . . . She didn't wish to argue with him, but . . . "Where is Rin to bathe?"

A decidedly . . . dark desire crept up within him, a light leer unconciously quirking the corners of his mouth. Lightning shot down the length of his spine, painfully charging his, as yet, unused limb. His breathing increased, and he could feel a thin film of perspiration forming above his upper lip, his own scent combining with the taste of her still lingering on his tongue. "You are not to bathe," he said simply. "I am to bathe you."

Confusion quickly gave way to absolute fright. Did he intend to . . . Was he going to . . .

Her pulse quickened even further, and she became acutely aware of the moisture from his mouth still wrapped around her fingers. Would he do that to her entire body?

She couldn't stand it! She'd die!

Sensing her intentions he quickly captured her wrist, holding her to the spot, foiling her attempt to flee.

Rin whimpered. "Rin wants to go back to camp. Rin can't breathe!"

He neither loosened nor tightened his grip.

Her vision became hazy. Her world began to spin. "Please!" she cried. "Rin is sick . . . Rin is . . . Rin wants . . . R--r--I want to go!"

Unswayed by her hysterics, he released her wrist and took firm hold of her backside, forcing her hips against his. "No."

"You cannot be lax with her," his mother had warned. "Do not show her any pity or give her any leeway. Once she agrees to go with you, you cannot allow her to change her mind. She may whimper, and she may plead, but once you get hold of her, do not let go."

"Please, Sesshoumaru-sama. Rin wants--I just want go back to camp. Rin is tired. Rin is . . ."

"Her mouth will say 'No,' but do not take it personally. It is not you she is rejecting; it is the new manner in which you wish to express your feelings for her. They are new, and, therefore, frightening, but you must not allow her fears to become yours."

"I will not harm you," he said softly.

"Proceed slowly, but insistently. Modesty and inexperience will keep her from verbally responding to you, but her body will speak loudly enough for the whole world to hear. Her heartrate will speed up. Her breaths will become rapid and shallow. And her scent will change. Despite these obvious signs of her desire for you, she'll undoubtedly beg you to release her and let her go her own way."

"Sesshoumaru-sama . . ."

He looked down at her; she looked up at him. Her eyes glistened in the moonlight, shiny with unshed tears.

"Do not let her," his mother had continued. "Work through her words and win her over with careful caresses and constant reassurances."

She continued to try to squirm free. She knew it was a futile attempt but she was oh so sick, and she didn't want Sesshoumaru-sama to see her this way. If he did what he said he was going to do, she just knew she was going to die. She practically fainted when it was just her fingers. And there was something . . . poking her just above her hip bone. Though it was hard, it wasn't cold like the hilts of one of her lord's swords. Even through her clothing, she could feel its warmth and the slight jerks and spasms it seemed to give off whenever she moved. But if she stayed still, it stayed still, and instead of disquieting her, it seemed to send soothing sensations to her very core.

"Do not break eye contact. Do not hide your intentions from her. If she did not trust you, she wouldn't have stayed with you for so long. If you break that trust by dealing with her dishonestly, she may hate you for it. You may have your way with her that night, but that morning she may leave, never wishing to return."

He moved his hand from her rear to rest in the small of her back, his fingers rubbing slow circles into the indent in her spine, his eyes never leaving hers.

Involuntarily, her head moved to rest upon his breastplate. "Why are you doing this? Do you want Rin to die?"

"No." He leaned slightly forward lowering his lips to the rim of her left ear. "You are dirty and need to be cleansed."

There it was again. That awful rush of wetness between her thighs. Why was her body doing this!

"After a time she'll come to terms with what is to happen. She'll go limp in your arms and allow you to do whatever you please. But the battle is not yet won."

He slipped his hand from the rear of her back to completely wrap around her waist, his nimble fingers easily undoing the tie of her obi. "Your scent is most offensive."

His breath was hot, humid. Every word he spoke seemed to amplify the strange feelings growing within her.

"I must rid you of every trace."

She felt her clothing loosen, the securing obi having been unbound. One tug and the long length of silky fabric slid from around her waist to be piled upon the forest floor.

"Most offensive," he told her yet again.

Her vision grew hazy, her thoughts unfocused. She felt a pull at the front of her robes, knowing he was now seeing to the ties of her second robe. Only one more remained.

"It is good you've ceased your struggles."

She felt another tug then the cool rush of night air.

"This needn't be unpleasant," he said softly.

"But I feel sick." They were her words, but not her voice. It was too deep, too throaty, too much in need of air.

His hand crept inside the opening in her robes to run along the sides of her waist, the calloused pads of his fingers caressing her bare back. Careful of his spikes, he again turned his mouth to her ear. "And I have the means to cure us both."

She felt another tug, this time at the rear of her clothing from the inside of her robes. She stood perfectly still as the fabric fell from around her shoulders, down her arms, and past her fingertips to cascade upon the ground.

She knew she should've been trembling from the cold, but instead she felt as if she were on fire. Her body burned and ached, a slippery trail lining both sides of her inner thighs. When the wind blew, it was there she felt it most, and her muscles quivered in response. She still wasn't quite clear on what was happening, but if Sesshoumaru-sama didn't seem to mind, why should she?

He was doing her a favor, afterall. Instead of fleeing from her awful scent or banishing her to some dark corner of his kingdom, he was going to help her. He'd said he had the cure.

Sesshoumaru took a step back to admire his handiwork. This wasn't nearly so difficult as he'd imagined it to be. He hadn't lost his nerve, and she hadn't run away. He intended to take her, and if his mother's words were true, she was now ready to be taken: the shortness of breath, the rise in temperature, the shimmer in her eyes and the slightly acrid odor of her arousal.

He swallowed hard, forcing down his growing desires.

You mustn't rush this, he reminded himself. If you hurt her . . .

"Is Sesshoumaru-sama feeling sick again?"

His eyes snapped to her face at the sound of her voice. It was her, but not her. His Rin was small, giggly, trusting beyond belief. This female was older, taller . . . and had more thoughts of him than herself. There she stood, completely bare before him, and instead of attempting to cover herself, she asks how he is feeling.

"Only a little," he replied evenly.

She casually ran her hand along the lower end of her arm, unconsciously creating more cleavage than she actually possessed. 'If Rin can help . . ." her eyes were low; her voice quiet.

"In a moment."

She nodded. "Rin is . . . I . . . I'm sorry I made such a mess. Rin is sticky."

He stood in quiet awe of the female before him. To have such an adult-like body, but a completely child-like mind . . .

This time he felt truly sick. Difficult or not, he could not deal with her so under-handedly.

He removed his armor and tossed his sword to the side.

Rin watched but did not move.

He came to stand before her, then knelt. They now met each other eye to eye. "You did not make a mess."

"But I--" She gestured to the lower half of her body. "It's . . . disgusting. And it smells."

He couldn't help the smile that jumped into his eyes. "Yes. But not badly."

"Sesshoumaru-sama said it was offensive. Rin needed a bath . . ."

Sesshoumaru sighed inwardly. This was why he despised deceit. Instead of being forthright and possibly failing once, deception afforded the opportunity to twice miss the mark: once when you failed to fully convince others of your falsehood, and twice when you failed to accomplish your intended feat. In the first instance, at least you had your integrity to fall back on . . .

"I was . . . lying," he finally managed to say.

Rin giggled. "Sesshoumaru-sama doesn't lie."

He couldn't help but break eye contact at that point. "Normally, no. But these are far from normal circumstances."

The girl frowned. "Why would Sesshoumaru-sama lie?"

This time it was he who frowned. "It is . . . difficult to say."

She reached out and touched his hand.

He, again, found himself looking her in the eye.

"It's okay," she smiled. "Rin has trouble with big words, too."

He flipped his hand over hers and took hold of it. No, it wouldn't do to knowingly deceive such an innocent soul.

After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke. "You are not 'sick,' Rin. Nor is this Sesshoumaru."

She tilted her head to the side, slightly squinting her eyes. "Then what's wrong with us?"

He swallowed hard. "There is nothing 'wrong' with us. We are simply experiencing . . . foreign things."

"But Rin's body . . ."

"Your body is . . ." He felt his mouth go dry as he allowed his eyes to rove over her lithe form. She was not quite as his mother had described her, sight unseen, but she was a vision nonetheless.

She possessed nothing in abundance, but what she had was well-formed and perfectly proportioned to her petite frame. Her breasts were not . . . bountiful, but they were perky and no mere "mosquito bites" as one might find on a female just entering puberty. His Rin was well on her way to adulthood, just a step or two shy, perhaps. He imagined he could easily engulf the circumference of each mound with his mouth, and the slightly rosy tint of her erect nipples perfectly played against the pale pink of her lips. Though her hips were narrower than he had hoped, there was a definitive swell to them, flaring marginally outward before inclining inward to meet with her upper thighs. And at their crux, a small dusting of dark curls that lined but didn't completely cover her woman's entrance. Her legs were long and lean, quite capable of wrapping all the way around him as he sheathed himself in her essence, delightfully drowning in that altogether intoxicating scent.

He tightened his hold on her hand as he felt his waning erection return full force. "Magnificent," he quietly concluded.

She felt a shiver shoot down her spine, but chose to cover its effect with a girlish giggle, rather than admit the odd sensations his unfamiliar words produced. "It leaks," she laughed. "And it aches and burns and itches and . . ." She shook her head, a tiny twinge of color rising in her cheeks. "There's nothing . . . 'magnificent' about that."

He slid his hand up her arm to rest upon her left shoulder, lightly caressing her clavicle with the pad of his thumb. "I disagree."

Rin sighed, unconciously sinking into his soothing stimulations.

It was there again: the heat, the wetness, the inability to draw in enough breath to keep her head from swimming.

"You are no longer a child, my Rin. The evidence is clear."

"Evidence?" And there was that voice again. So serious. So throaty, so breathy, so . . . completely unlike herself.

"You are ready to take a mate."

"Mate?" she repeated. It was so hard to keep her eyes open. So hard to think straight. So hard to hear Sesshoumaru-sama over the roar of all the blood in her body, rushing to that one spot beneath his thumb.

She opened her mouth again, intending to ask him what a mate was, but instead a long rush of air escaped, sounding somewhere between a whimper and a sigh.

"I believe the human term is 'husband.'"

She heard but didn't truly comprehend. Sesshoumaru-sama's hand was so big and strong and . . . deadly. How many of his enemies had she seen him rip apart with the mere flick of a fingernail?

Currently, that same hand was doing the strangest thing to her. Of course, it was only touching her . . . but the way that touch made her feel . . .

"Are you listening, Rin?"

She nodded, not in understanding, but because her head suddenly felt too heavy for her neck to support.

"These aches and pains you complain of are not a sign of disease; they are proof of your maturity and growing needs."

All over. She wanted to feel that feeling all over. She wanted him to feel her all over. "What does Rin need?"

Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted and parched.

"To be taken by this Sesshoumaru."

Taken? "Taken where?"

His reply was swift, too quick for her to completely comprehend. One moment she was standing upright, the next, she was flat on her back, cradled in Sesshoumaru-sama's arm, him hovering above her.

Her heart slammed into her chest, her eyes flying open.

"I will not harm you." His mouth was inches from hers.

She felt his hand creep from her lower back, along her backside, under her thigh to grip her behind her left knee. His left leg was bent, its knee dangerously close to that troublesome spot between her legs.

"Wh . . . what is Sesshoumaru-sama doing?" It was becoming harder to breathe and his form above her slipped in and out of focus.

He said nothing, merely lifted her leg and lowered himself.

And there it was again--that pokey thing. But instead of at her hip, it was directly down there. Something told her that she shouldn't be doing this. She should close her legs and shove herself away from him.

But his weight upon her and the irresistible heat from that . . . thing . . . kept her right where she was. It didn't feel bad, afterall. In fact, it seemed to quite effectively scratch that itch that had been building down there. Curious, she moved herself against it and was surprised by the satisfying sensations she felt completing that one simple movement.

Sesshoumaru-sama hissed, his eyes snapping shut.

Rin stilled. "Did that hurt Sesshoumaru-sama?" She'd completely stopped breathing, her eyes fixed on his face.

Gradually, his eyes crept open, and he looked down at her, something akin to a smile on his face. "Do you want this Sesshoumaru?"

She blinked once, then twice. "Want Sesshoumaru-sama to what?" she asked. She lifted her head off the ground, attempting to peer between their two bodies. "And what is that?"

He felt himself color slightly, but didn't dare express his embarassment. How did his mother so easily speak of such . . . personal things?

"It is me," he finally said. "To be used for your enjoyment."

She looked at him in seeming disbelief, her whole face frowning. "Let Rin see."

Sesshoumaru swallowed hard. See? He'd barely looked at it, himself.

He stayed still above her, secretly hoping she'd forget her request and simply let him proceed as he'd intended.

But when her eyes remained fixed, not on him, but down there, he sank back in defeat, sitting upon his haunches. Rin followed suit, sitting up in the dry grass.

He looked away from her then unfastened the tie of his hakama, his erect member standing tall despite the chill wind.

"You don't want to show it to her too soon," his mother had cautioned. "Naturally, she'll want to know what it is that's 'poking' her, but young girls are strange creatures, and you'll never know what they'll do in such an odd situation.

"She could be fascinated beyond all belief and want to touch it. Or she could be horrified beyond words and run away screaming." She gave him a knowing grin. "Especially when she finds out where it's supposed to go."

Without warning, she reached forward and took hold of him, giving it a slight tug. "It's attached!"

Whether it was more pleasurable or painful, he couldn't decide.

"It looks swollen," she said, tilting her head to the side. "Does it hurt?"

He couldn't bring himself to look at her. "It aches."

Rin frowned, reluctantly releasing her new discovery.

"Less so when you touch it," he added quietly.

Her frown faded, replaced by a shy smile, her eyes falling to the forest floor. "Rin's, too."

He looked over at her then, an eyebrow raised. He wasn't quite sure he'd heard her.

She caught his questioning gaze, then quickly looked away. "Mine, too," she said more loudly, though not quite surely. "It . . . feels good when it . . . touches me . . . there."

Sesshoumaru found himself openly staring at her.

"It makes the itching stop. It's . . . warm," she finally said.

Well, he certainly felt hot down there. And a peculiar . . . tightness in his groin. But he wasn't about to touch himself to see if what she said was true.

"Will you . . . put it there again?"

He groaned deep down in his chest. His mouth was much too dry; his throat constricted. "If that is your wish."

She said nothing, merely giving a series of small nods in rapid succession.

A particularly painful spasm shot through his staff, nearly forcing him to double over. "Then . . ." Speak, he reminded himself. "Lie back," he finally concluded.

She did as requested and, without a word from him, opened her legs, spreading herself wide before him.

His Rin was oh-so wet, and the scent of her arousal hung heavily in the air. He'd been taught that it was rude to stare, but his eyes refused to move from the all-too-tempting dish before him. Moisture mercifully returned to his mouth and he was instantly reminded of the gift the girl had given him on the tips of her fingers.

It smelled like heaven and tasted sweetly of sin. He, again, moved to kneel before her, his one hand between her legs, just to the right of her left knee.

He advanced. "This Sesshoumaru will give you what you want, but first . . ."

She'd been lying quietly on the ground, knees raised, eyes closed, her entire body aching in anticipation of his touch, but when she felt that, she couldn't keep quiet.

Sesshoumaru-sama had buried his face between her thighs, his smooth lips and coarse tongue in direct contact with her most intimate area. She'd let loose a high-pitched squeal, her fingernails digging into the earth beneath her.

"Don't," she panted. "Don't do that."

But he did not stop.

"It's dirty," she said, but her hips moved against him.

"I will lick it clean, then."

She couldn't stand it. She just couldn't stand it.

She knew she shouldn't look. She knew she shouldn't want to see. But she couldn't take her eyes off the silver head of hair that was doing such bad things to make her feel so good.

"Sesshoumaru-sama . . ."

"You'll hurt her in the end, but if you pleasure her in the beginning, it will all balance out, and she won't mind it all."

He delved his tongue deeper inside her. The more he drank, the more she gave, and the drunker he became.

She was so hot down there. Hot, wet and tight. His tongue twisting and turning within her virgin passage, his fangs lightly scraping against the little button proudly popping out from her pink, sweet flesh.

"Please, Sesshoumaru-sama . . ." Her eyes were closed, her fingers tightly gripping the grass.

He couldn't take it anymore. It couldn't take it anymore. She wanted it to touch her there, and that is what he intended.

Rin groaned at the loss of sensation.

Moving up her body, he came to hover above her, his hakama hanging loosely around his waist. "Remove them," he instructed her.

She allowed her eyes to drift open in order to see what he wanted her to do.

He lowered his nose to the crook of her neck, brushing it along her throat, over her chin and up to her slightly parted lips. Once there, he pressed his mouth to hers.

"Be gentle, but forceful," his mother had said. "If she'll open her mouth to you, other parts will soon follow. Then, you'll know she's ready."

He raised his hand to brush his thumb over her left cheek.

Rin sighed.

He immediately took the opportunity to slip his tongue into this other orifice, exploring it as he had explored her nether region.

Rin wrapped her legs around him, rocking her wet core against his ridged abdomen.

"You won't have to push when she's really ready. It'll just seem to . . . suck you in, and she won't let you go till you've satisfied her."

"Remove them," he repeated.

"If you soil your clothes, no matter how many times you wash them, you'll never get the scent out, and youkai in the immediate area will know exactly what you've been doing and exactly whom you've been doing it with."

She looked up at him, eyes dazed, face flushed, beautiful beyond all description.

"Undress me," he finally said. He could not see to her and undress himself at the same time.

The girl blushed.

"We cannot continue with me like this," he explained. "It is . . . awkward."

Her blush grew, spreading from her face to her chest.

"I . . . cannot do it myself," he quietly confessed.

Rin smiled, her eyes reflecting ardent adoration, something soft and . . . sympathetic in their dark depths.

It had . . . angered him when his hanyou half-brother had pitied him because of the injuries his one, good arm had sustained while battling an incarnation of the dark half of the Shikon no Tama, literally, unarmed. No Toukijin, no Tenseiga, just his claws. And they had failed . . . miserably. The creature had eaten away at his flesh . . . and fur. To be beaten so badly by such an insignificant creature only to be pitied by one of an even lesser station . . .

"Rin will help."

But he was quickly called back to the present when he felt soft hands creeping beneath his collar, carefully pushing back the silk of his haori. She untwined her legs from around his midsection, her hands following the fall of the fabric, traveling down the length of his spine to give the waistband of his hakama the little push they needed. Once pooled at his legs, he kicked once, then twice, leaving him bare from the waist down. His haori was still stuck on the one arm currently curled beneath Rin's neck.

Reluctantly, he broke contact with her to toss the unneeded item aside.

Had he ever been . . . naked in front of another living soul? . . . Immediate family, excluded, of course.

And then there was his missing arm . . .

Again, he felt a soft hand against his firm flesh, delicate fingertips playing across the muscles of his chest and upper arms. "Sesshoumaru-sama is magnificent."

He looked down at her, and she smiled up at him.

Instantly, he felt himself relax. Wasn't that what he'd told her when she'd expressed doubts about her body?

One hand became two, and he suddenly felt himself being tugged forward, Rin's fingers having found their way to the back of his neck.

Obligingly, he leaned forward far enough for her to crane her neck upwards to place a close-mouthed kiss on his lower lip. He growled deeply in his chest, again covering her with the length of his body.

Her legs wrapped around him, his stomach muscles twitching then tightening as he again felt the liquid heat of her core. He slipped his arm beneath her, pressing her more closely against him, his male member mere inches from her entrance.

He attacked her mouth with unyielding ferocity, devouring every breath she attempted to draw in.

"Down there," she gasped. "Put it down there."

"No." He nibbled along her throat, licked around her ear, his hand rhythmically kneading her backside. "Not down there," he said huskily. "In there."

Her formerly frenzied movements stilled, her eyes wide, incredulous in disbelief.

"You doubt me?"

Rin recalled what a large, strange thing her lord had growing out of his body. There was no way that would fit in her.

"I will show you, then."

Unconsciously, every muscle in her body contracted.

He licked her lips. A gentle smile shining in his amber eyes. "I have told you this Sesshoumaru will not harm you." He slid himself slightly forward, decreasing the distance between "it" and her.

"Proceed slowly at first. Ease it inside, and give her time to accept what is happening. Despite preparing her, the fact of the matter is she is quite small, and you are . . . well, not."

He put his mouth to her ear. "Relax. It is time."

He moved his hand from her rear to cup the back of her neck, turning her head towards him. He stroked the side of her face with the pads of his fingers, then proceeded to massage her mouth with his.

"If she'll open her mouth to you, other parts will soon follow."

"Sesshoumaru-sama . . ."

She smelled . . . so good.

Her tongue touched his, and he was nearly lost.

"Please, Sesshoumaru-sama . . ."

"You won't have to push when she's really ready. It'll just seem to . . . suck you in, and she won't let you go till you've satisfied her."

"Rin . . ." Indeed, he could feel it. Calling to him, drawing him near, daring him to defile her entrance with his intrusion.

She felt it. There, but not. He was too low . . . But it still felt rather good. It was hot, hard and smooth. And when she dared move against it, it jerked in response.

Carefully, Sesshoumaru rolled his hips, and when she pushed, his tip slipped just inside her.

Rin shuddered.

He, again, reached around her, taking hold of her hips in his hand.

"Se--Sesshoumaru-sama . . ."

"Spread yourself wide," he whispered hotly. "Let me . . . all the way . . . inside you."

Those seven little words produced an immediate rush of wetness that completely coated his head and seemed to send her interior into convulsions. "Rin?"

Her eyes squeezed shut, her head falling back as her hips thrust forward.

She yelled, and he very nearly yelled with her. Yes, his mother had told him it would hurt her, but she mentioned nothing of his pain.

She was too tight. He couldn't have moved within her if he'd wanted to. It held him most uncomfortably in a vice-like grip, red hot needles pricking the length of his shaft, her inner muscles stretching the sensitive skin so taut it felt as if it would tear.

Rin turned her face from him. Gone were the soft moans and eager encouragements. Her hands were fisted so tightly, he was certain her fingernails would soon draw blood. She was covered in sweat and gulping for air. It was quite clear that she wanted to cry, but was refusing to do so.

He hadn't even done anything!

He was trying to be "gentle." He was taking his time. He wanted them both to enjoy this. Instead, she'd shoved herself against him, sheathing him to the hilt, covering him in her blood and pain.

He couldn't stand it anymore. He lifted himself off her, attempting to withdraw.

"Owww!" This time she did cry.

Sesshoumaru froze.

"Please . . . please don't move . . . It hurts!"

He sank down again, causing more tears to fall.

He'd never felt so . . . inadequate in all his life. What was he supposed to do!

She smelled horrible. It felt horrible. And he was simply expected to lay there till it passed!

He felt her body shake with repressed sobs, her face so pale it was nearly translucent.

He was going to be sick. If this wasn't over soon . . .

"Sesshoumaru-sama . . ."

His stomach lurched. Even though he was the cause of her current discomfort, she still called out for him . . . as if he could do anything about it!

"Rin . . ." He pressed his forehead to hers.

"Se--Sesshoumaru-sss--ama, i--it . . ."

"Please, Rin . . . stop this."

She closed her eyes so she didn't have to look at him.

"Rin . . ."

She felt his hand cup the side of her face.

"Do not hate me. Please."

Sesshoumaru-sama never said "please." He took what he wanted and never made any apologies for it. She'd seen it so many times in her youth. But she never thought he'd treat her that way. Though she doubted it, some small part of her had always hoped that he thought she was special, and that made her better than everybody else. She, alone, was immune from his mistreatment.

But tonight had proved that wrong.

He'd said he was going to cure her. He was going to make her feel better. And what had he done? He'd lied to her--something else she thought he never did. He'd told her she was dirty, when she wasn't. That she smelled bad, when she didn't. And that she'd offended him, when she hadn't.

And then he'd done this to her.

Down there, she'd said. Not in there.

Down was good. In was very, very bad.

But . . .

You are magnificent.

I will lick it clean, then.

I . . . cannot do it myself.

Please, Rin. Do not hate me.

Tears fell full force. "Why does Sesshoumaru-sama hate Rin?"

"No. This Sesshoumaru does not hate Rin . . . hate you."

"Then why?" She knew he hated it when she whined, but she couldn't help it. She felt . . . broken, incapable of being fixed. "Why did you do this to me?"

"I don't want to say 'inept . . .' Inexperienced. Yes, you are inexperienced in the ways of women."

"I am . . . inept," he finally said. "It was not supposed to be like this. You were supposed to enjoy it. At least, some part."

Rin frowned. "What is this, anyway? This . . ." She swept her hand over their still-joined bodies. "Whatever this is?"

He felt himself color and quickly looked away. "Mating."

Tears stained her face, pain still evident in her scent. "I don't like it."

"Nor do I."

"Then why did you . . . do this?"

Sesshoumaru frowned. "I did not know what else to do. Your body said it was ready to be mated. My body said that mate should be me. I . . . never intended to harm you."

She wasn't sure she believed him, any more.

"If my movement did not cause you pain, I would remove myself from your body, entirely."

"Well it does," she argued.

"I . . . am sorry."

Tears fell anew. Not because of the pain in her lower levels, but because of the pain in Sesshoumaru-sama's voice. She'd never hurt (nor wanted to hurt) anyone in her entire life . . . least of all Sesshoumaru-sama. He was the only person to show any interest in her after the death of her family. She was happy just to be allowed to be around him, even if he didn't speak or eat the food she'd brought for him. But she was doubly happy the night he'd noticed all the bruises on her body. It was proof that he actually saw her and cared about what happened to her. She couldn't help but smile.

She was invisible in her village unless she disturbed something that mattered; she didn't matter, at all.

"Rin . . ."

It was strange that those men had hit her and kicked her and called her vile names, intending to do her severe harm . . . but she didn't cry once. She didn't even make a sound.

But here with Sesshoumaru-sama . . .

He brushed her tears back with the pad of his thumb, pressing his forehead to hers. "Please, stop."

Was what he'd done really so wrong? He wasn't trying to hurt her, after all. He seemed almost as shocked by it as she was, and he didn't like it any more than she did.

It was just hard imagining Sesshoumaru-sama not knowing what to do. He always knew what to do. But this . . . mating . . . was apparently as new to him as it was to her, so how could she truly hold him accountable for the harm he'd caused her?

He'd even tried to rid her of the pain by taking it out . . . but she'd stopped him because that had made it hurt more instead of less . . .

He kissed her again, not on her lips, but on her forehead, her cheeks, the point of her chin, the tip of her nose. If this was the last chance he'd ever have to hold her--either because she'd leave him due to his mistreatment or she'd simply refuse to be touched by him because she found this act so disgusting--he would take full advantage of this opportunity, locking it forever away, safekeeping it in his mind. And perhaps actions could convey what his words could not.

He kept his lower half completely still, but his mouth and hand were in constant movement--on her face, her neck, her shoulders, back and sides. Once, he even dared touch the swell of her chest. The flesh was warm and pliant, easily giving way under the pressure of his palm. The nipple was pebbled and hard, sticking out between his third and fourth fingers. Tempted beyond belief, but extremely mindful of any unintentional movement, he bent his back to make a swift pass of his tongue over the forbidden fruit.

Rin gasped and he immediately straightened, afraid that he'd hurt her again. He focused in on her face: some of her color seemed to be returning, and instead of pained, she seemed almost . . . pleased.

"Rin?" he brushed his thumb along the side of her face.

She didn't look at him. "Rin is sorry for hurting Sesshoumaru-sama's feelings."

What?

She opened her eyes to look directly at him. "If it wasn't for you . . . I wouldn't even be here, now."

What was she saying? She was supposed to be angry with him. She was supposed to hate him.

Again, she looked away from him. "Rin was being silly for making such a big fuss. It didn't hurt that much."

At that moment, he felt her hold on him slacken. He could still feel her wrapped quite snugly around his male member, but, now, it was less of a pinch and more of a . . . an embrace. Warm, wet and comforting.

"Rin liked it at first, anyway."

He swallowed hard as new sensations quietly crept up the length of his shaft.

'It feels kind of . . . funny, now, but . . ." her face frowned, trying to come up with the best word, "it doesn't . . . burn any more. And . . . I . . . liked it . . . when you were touching me. All over."

Though the scent of her blood still clung to him, the acrid odor of fear and pain were beginning to fade, coming close to being nearly non-existent. He didn't really want to at that point, but after all that she'd been through--that he'd put her through--he thought it best to withdraw.

After he'd hurt her, that had been his immediate intention, afterall . . .

He raised his hips, slowly sliding himself from her moist interior.

Rin sighed, her legs instantly locking around him.

"You won't have to push when she's really ready. It'll just seem to . . . suck you in, and she won't let you go till you've satisfied her."

He raised a questioning eyebrow to her and received her answer when she gave a slight rotation to her hips. He hissed in pleasure and pushed himself back to his former location.

Instead of sighing she licked her lips, a purring sound passing between the pouty protuberances.

He felt a dark desire rise from within his depths, no longer able to resist the instinctive urge to thrust himself in and out of her, now willing, flesh.

"Yessss . . . That's better . . ."

He had no true clue as to what she was feeling at that moment, but he'd never felt so self-satisfied in his life. It felt as if he'd been tried and tested, and finally found worthy.

"Sesshoumaru-sama . . ."

He still couldn't tell what she was feeling, but instinctively, he knew what she needed. He lowered his lips to hers, massaging her mouth with his till it gave way, allowing him to slowly slip his tongue inside, its tip mimicking the movement of his hips.

She kissed him in return, threading her fingers through his hair, using the heels of her feet to help her keep pace with his steady rhythm.

"Rin . . ."

She felt on fire. Every nerve in her body alive, awake and receptive. She could barely breathe, but she didn't care. She trusted Sesshoumaru-sama to breathe for her.

So this was the pleasure his mother had spoken of. Moving as one, breathing as one, each consumed by the other.

"Please," Rin cried. "More!" She felt feverish, and knew it must soon break. There was something stirring in her stomach, and the more Sesshoumaru-sama moved, the more volatile the sensations became. She was going to explode, dying in his arms, never to truly return from the heights he was lifting her to.

It was too much. The tightness in his loins, the smoothness of her interior, the verbal declarations of her desire for his flesh . . .

"I love it!" No longer able to hold on to him, she let her legs fall completely apart, her arms lying limply over his shoulders. "Make Rin feel good," she whispered to him. "Rin wants Sesshoumaru-sama to feel good."

Sesshoumaru groaned, all rational thought obliterated with those four words: make, Rin, feel, good.

Freed from the constraints of those long, strong legs, he was able to proceed at his own pace. To an outside observer he would appear to be perfectly still, the female beneath him convulsing from some unseen force. But both she and he knew the source of her erratic movements. Though invisible to human sight, they could both feel each intrusion he made made into her moist interior, each rapid jolt supplying infinite energy to the air around them.

Rin screamed and shuddered in delight. He heaved and hissed, grunting his own satisfaction. Her arms fell away from him, her fingers tearing at the earth beneath him. He bared his fangs, his vision burning red.

And then it was over.

Rin released, her inner muscles clamping down on him with undisguised need, while he roared (and not wishing to crush her) rolled them both over and laid limply in the grass.

She touched the side of his face, her pulse slowing, her temperature falling, her breathing finally returning to normal. She felt completely cured. Not an ache, not a pain, not a single discomfort in the entirety of her body.

He'd forgotten. He'd forgotten his mother's final words on the subject of mating. "When the end comes," she'd said, "you must carefully consider your options. If you merely wish this mating to be a temporary thing, something to be done simply when the 'sickness' comes upon you, and you desire release, spend yourself on her, but not in her.

"She's, doubtless, too young to be offended by such a thing, not recognizing its more signifcant meaning."

"Meaning?" he'd asked.

His mother huffed. "Only a whore would allow a male to do such a thing. It is an unspoken understanding that she is there to tend to his body and nothing more."

"And the other options?" he'd asked.

"My dear, Sesshoumaru, there are only two options. Finish outside her and brand her a whore, or fill her with your seed and run the risk of breeding a litter of hanyou like that . . . brother, of yours."

As he laid there, he could feel his seed and her own fluids sliding down his deflated member.

He'd forgotten . . .

"Is Sesshoumaru-sama feeling better, now?"

"Rin," he stared up at the female above him.

"Yes, Sesshoumaru-sama?"

Even after this she still seemed so innocent, so trusting . . . so much like him in his younger years. Would he betray her as his father had betrayed them?

He took hold of her hand and brought it to cover his heart. "You are mine, now."

The girl nodded with a smile, looking him straight in the eye. "Rin knows. I know."

"Do you . . . remember my brother . . . InuYasha?"

"The one with the funny ears?"

Sesshoumaru nodded. "If we continue as we've just done, you will be mother to many such as him."

"Mother?" reflexively, she glanced down at her stomach, imagining it to be swollen and heavy with child. Then she frowned. "Sesshoumaru-sama doesn't like hanyou."

"I do not like weakness," he corrected her.

"Aren't all hanyou weak?" she asked. "Weaker than Sesshoumaru-sama?"

He thought of the technique that he'd given his brother--the Meidou Zangetsuha--the greater advantage it granted the hanyou, and the greater disadvantage it had put him in. "In certain instances."

Her face fell. "Then we can't . . . mate anymore?"

He tightened his hold on her hand. "This Sesshoumaru would be most upset if that were to become the case."

"Of course, if the female doesn't want any offspring from you, then there's really nothing to consider."

"Then what'll we do?"

He couldn't believe what he was going to say, but there was no way around it. He would not give the girl up for anything. "Train them to be strong, so they may be self-reliant and not so dependent upon others."

"You won't . . . hate them?" she asked. "Hate me?"

He kissed the back of her hand. "Nonsense."

"You're feeling better, then?"

He nodded. "Yes. And you?"

"Better than ever," she smiled.

"Good." He moved his hand to cradle her back as he sat up. "Now we must dress and find that worthless minion of mine. He will be punished most severely for allowing you to escape his sight."

"Don't hurt him too badly, Sesshoumaru-sama. It wasn't all his fault."

"No?" A dark gleam rose in his light eyes. "Then perhaps I should bend you over and teach you a lesson, as well."

Rin's brow knitted in confusion. "Bend me . . . over?" But confusion quickly faded when she felt him begin to swell inside her.

"I'm beginning to feel a little sick again . . ."

"Riiiinnnnn," the toad moaned in his half-sleep, having collapsed on the forest floor from exhaustion. "Sesshoumaru-sama will be most displeased if he comes back and you're not here."




END

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Author's Note: Many thanks to those who've taken the time to welcome me back. My old laptop went to the great computer store in the sky, and it's taken me this long to get a replacement. Sorry.

And for those of you annoyed by Rin's speech pattern, I'd like to point out there's a method to my seeming madness. Sesshoumaru refers to himself as "this Sesshoumaru" because of his regal status (and his own ego, lol) and Jaken does it to make himself feel self-important. However, Rin's use is in the diminuitive sense. She's not pointing herself out and saying "Hey! I'm somebody, too." She's downplaying the importance of herself, which in some ways leads to a diminished sense of self and self-worth.

I also have the characters refer to themselves in the third person when they're trying to distance themselves from unpleasant scenarios. But, I do, occasionally, speak in the first person when they're taking responsibility for their actions or truly speaking what they believe/feel.

That's all for now, but if you liked this fic, might I humbly suggest you check it some of my other/older works. They're mostly Sess/Rin, but there are a few Inu/Kag. What can I say? I'm kind of a purist about these things.

Thanks for reading and reviewing, and I hope I didn't disappoint,

theMaven :)