InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Vying for Dominance ❯ Please My Lords ( Chapter 12 )

Please my Lords

 

 

The arena had been soaked in blood. The air was filled with its rich flavor, still stinging with poison and the caress of dark fire. Bodies had been torn and savaged, bones broken, limbs lost, hair and fur and skin burned and sheared. Names were made and lost, pride swelled and stolen, honor granted and shadowed by disgrace.

 

It was magnificent.

 

In open contest, there were no rules aside from the non-lethal nature of the bout. With weapons only of nature's blessing and their blood's strength, would the Inu stand and contest each other's prowess. Some would attack in groups until the field had been thinned out, but in the end it would always be the individual fighter that would stand. Until there was only one, the undisputed champion of the year's contest and the winner of the prized bitch.

 

As the battle wore on, there was one that pulled away from the others. His attacks breaking through hardened defenses, his claws felling any who would turn against him; he who once had been the underdog had quickly turned the tides to make himself the top competition. In single opposition, or against many; still he found victory time and time again.

 

The crowd was quickly swayed, their cheers rising up for the advancing male. Bets were made as drinks washed down inhibitions. And everywhere was the sound of celebration. As there should be. The contest marked the last of the longest days, the end of a prosperous year as they moved towards the wintering where dens would be made and pups born to their numbers.

 

“A fine young male, Kara,” Takked drawled out as he observed the rising champion take out another of the competition. His voice, as all others, was deepened and darkened by the thick rumbles of the beast as it reveled in the blood upon the air. His golden eyes were wisped with crimson tides as he looked to the young female, but still his broad features were made soft by his charming grin.

 

“Yes, Lord Takked,” the raven one replied. Like him, her voice was thick with heavy vibrations; but unlike the elder Lord, hers were of appreciation, seductively calling to the males around her of her nearing heat and readiness to take a mate. “That male would make a fine mate.”

 

From the other end of the table, one of the younger Lords laughed at the dejected sigh released by Tannis as he fiddled with his empty cup. “Perhaps you should challenge the winner of the contest, Tannis,” he taunted lightly, his indigo eyes lit with mirth and his youthful features spread into a wide grin. “That way you can keep the female for yourself, and your cup shall always be full.”

 

A low rumble of laughter followed his comment, Tannis joining with the others in the joke. “Why, I just might do that, Jomon,” he slurred with misplaced glee. “Right after you challenge Sesshomaru for Auria's favor.”

 

Smiling triumphantly to himself when the laughter around him immediately stilled, Tannis blatantly ignored the others in favor of pouring himself a new drink. He was drunk, not stupid. He knew very well that Jomon had eyes for his beautiful Auria. But the mongrel pup was unworthy of her presence, and he himself had put Jomon in his place many times over the years. Auria was meant for great things, not the least of which being her productive mating with the General's son. Sesshomaru would come around eventually. After all, there was no other as skilled or powerful or beautiful as his Auria.

 

As far as Sesshomaru was concerned, though, Jomon could have Auria. Certainly, she would have made a perfect mate. She was strong, powerful, beautiful, educated, demure, accommodating; everything a good bitch should be. The only problem was, she didn't want to be mated, at least not to him. So he stalled, made every excuse not to take her as his, put up with the whispers and claims that he would never take a mate.

 

It didn't matter anyways. He didn't have time for a mate. And even if he did, even if he wanted one, his life as it was would not permit the time such a commitment would take. He had more important matters to deal with presently, and eons to find a bitch suitable for bearing his pups.

 

Sparing a look at the younger Inu, Sesshomaru appraised his intents. Before, there would never be a challenge posed against him. He had simply humiliated far too many in his time; and since the challenges had ceased all together, he had only grown stronger. Now, however, there was always the chance that the fool would think he had some sort of advantage just because he was down one arm. It was a ridiculous notion, but there was always the chance.

 

Jomon, however, knew his place and power well enough not to challenge Sesshomaru no matter his current state. He trained his focus on the arena, watching as the battle drew to a close, never speaking a word or making a motion that would reveal his true feelings for his golden goddess Auria.

 

“A victor!”

 

Takked's proclamation brought all focus to the arena floor where the final challenger was brought down by the new favorite.

 

From the centre of the arena, a triumphant howl sounded out from the new champion. He was covered in blood; his own or from others, it mattered not. The beast reveled in the spilling of blood, and its voice called out over the gathering to tell all of his glorious victory.

 

Other voices joined in with the champion, the gathered crowd showing their appreciation for the fighters and their splendid showing.

 

Even on the dais at the front of the arena, some of the most powerful presences added their voices to the crowd, remembering the days of sport and contest that for them were now long gone. As each had risen in power, the days of their arena contests had closed. But still they could remember the exhilaration of the battles, and smell the scent of blood they had spilt to gain their victories.

 

Kuro was not one of those who allowed his voice to be heard. His dark eyes remained fixed on the black Inu that had taken the contest, the one that bore such resemblance to himself.

 

“Join me in a drink, Kuro,” Tannis urged from his side. “Let us celebrate your pup's victory.” When the other didn't so much as acknowledge his words, Tannis chuckled. “Soon enough, young Yami will be vying for your seat instead of the females.”

 

A low growl shook through Kuro's chest as he turned his dark eyes to glare at the golden Inu. “Perhaps I will see that your seat is left empty for him instead,” he bit out angrily.

 

“Enough!” Takked put a stop to the building hostility before it could escalate further. “We have come together in celebration. Let us not sully our champion's victory by these petty squabbles.” Lifting himself from his seat, Takked beckoned the young Kara over to him. When she took his arm, he turned her towards the arena. However, as he went, he called back, “Kuro, perhaps you would see to your mate. I am told she has quite the spectacle for us to enjoy this year.”

 

Gina. Sesshomaru knew her. She was a silver, but had mated with Kuro several times over the centuries. The young male in the arena had come from one of their first litters, not bearing any of the silver's traits, his eyes and hair and skin marked by the black coloring of his father. But what was more; he had seen the silver bitch recently. Very recently.

 

“I thought that you were seeking another female to mate, Kuro,” Sesshomaru's statement was as much a question as he turned his focus to the dark one.

 

Kuro's lip lifted in open disgust. “The bitch is harder to get rid of than I would have thought.”

 

Beside him, Tannis laughed again. “The good ones always are.”

 

Ignoring the drunkard's comment, Sesshomaru continued questioning Kuro. “What manner of `spectacle' is she to present?”

 

“Why the sudden interest, Sesshomaru?” Kuro returned with suspicion.

 

Sesshomaru refused to answer. He turned his attention back to the arena; at least, to the direction of the arena. Forcing himself to look past the overwhelming scent of blood left from the battle, he strained his senses to find that scent that he had so foolishly written off as an illusion. He didn't want to believe it; but Kuro was not to be trusted, and neither was his bitch of a mate. If he had been wrong…

 

The crowd erupted again into a chorus of cheers and shouts. Kara had present her favor openly to the winner, and Yami had accepted it with vigor, taking hold of the young bitch and pulling her tightly and possessively against himself as he ravished her mouth.

 

Through the commotion and beneath the heavy layer of scents on the air, it was impossible to single out one small presence amongst the many.

 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

A hard pull against the ropes binding her hands had Kagome stumbling forward in a feeble attempt to keep her balance. She failed, landed hard against the uneven ground and jostling her overworked body painfully. But her captor would grant her no reprieve, and using her hair as a hand-hold, she hauled Kagome back to her feet.

 

Not being able to help herself, Kagome released a muffled scream at the excruciating pull against her hair and scalp. But her voice was lost in the roar from outside of her prison which was growing in volume with every forced step. She couldn't see where she was going, the silver bitch had replaced the dark covering that blocked out her vision; but she could hear and feel how dangerously close she was getting to the crowd of youkai gathered just outside.

 

Every step brought her closer. Closer to the gathered crowd gathered, closer to the den of her ancient enemies, closer to her death. It was difficult to breathe, her lungs tight with painful anxiety. Her heart was racing in her chest, but at the same time feeling as though every beat lasted an eternity. Every step was heavy, forced, but impossible to take back as the bitch continued pulling her forward with harsh yanks against the ropes that bound her hands.

 

This couldn't be happening, she kept repeating the thought. It couldn't end like this. Not after so many battles. Not after she had fought so hard for so long. She couldn't meet her end here. Not like this. She couldn't.

 

No. She refused to be reduced to this, refused to let herself be defeated before she had even had a chance to fight for her freedom, refused to let that bitch have her misgotten victory. She was Kagome, Miko of the Shikon. She would not let herself be overcome by this detestable act of cowardice. Whatever plans the bitch had for her, whatever awaited her once she stepped beyond those doors; whatever was to come, she would face it, and she would face it proudly.

 

Not her death. She would not let them have the satisfaction.

 

She made herself hard against the debilitating feelings of fear and helplessness, forced herself to ignore the overwhelming burn of the youkai presence against her senses, and she walked forward. This would not be the end, not for her. Her destiny had been long foretold; and while dying at the hands of youkai may have been a part of it, it was not to happen on this day, not in this way.

 

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

“Bring them out!”

 

Kuro stood in the centre of the arena, his heavy frame a shadow even in the full light of the afternoon sun as his dark mane of hair spread out around him on the dance of the black fires of his power.

 

Behind him, the heavy beams barring one of the doors bracing the arena floor were released. Four iron cages carried each by two Inu guards were brought into the arena. Held within, the captured beasts snarled and snapped at the bars. Their eyes were consumed by the savage burn of their fury. Rogues captured and imprisoned for trying to take the females from this powerful pack of immortals. They were weak, pathetic creatures. Their minds consumed by the fire, their powers warped by their corruption, their bodies deformed by their lowly births.

 

Of course, there were always those few that had been exiled, their dishonor so great that never again would they or anyone associated with them be welcomed back. One such outcast was among those of the captured. His shame was not even worth remembering, and that he had so foolishly sought to steal away one of their own only compounded his debts. There would be no more graces given, no more lenience.

 

“Filthy scoundrels,” Kuro spit out at the caged beasts as they were aligned around the arena floor. “You are not even worth the staining of our claws. By your own decide which of you will find freedom and which will find death. It matters not which, but only one shall leave this place on this day.”

 

“My Lord.” The female's voice carried from across the arena as she addressed Kuro. The silver demoness bowed gracefully when he turned to her. “May I present to you my favor.”

 

With a sharp gesture to her right, the doors were opened.

 

The crowd drew in a collective breath when their senses were opened fully to the small figure left in the shadow of the doorway. But when the instant of start had passed, a terrible uproar was heard cascading across the sea of onlookers.

 

And for one, there was a moment when the roar had rose up around him that he thought he felt his heart still in his chest.

 

A human.

 

“A Miko!” The female's voice roared out to the crowd; her hatred unveiled, her intent unmistakable.

 

And to her words, the crowd responded with fury of their own; with wild cries of hatred and vengeance.

 

Reaching out, the demoness took hold of the bindings holding the enemy of their kind. She pulled her fully into the light of the arena floor, her handling rough and careless.

 

“Let it be she that kills those beasts, or they to kill her,” she called out. “A contest! Enemy against enemy! Who will be the victor? Miko or Youkai?”

 

Again her words were greeted by a tremendous roar, but in that sound was excitement, anticipation, and exhilaration. What a contest it would be.

 

“There, miko.”

 

Shoving her forwards roughly, the silver bitch ripped the black covering away from Kagome's face. Her eyes were flooded with the light, making it impossible to see. But slowly, as the glare of the sunlight faded from her darkened vision, the figures of the gathered crowd began to form in her sight. They were everywhere. Surrounding the arena walls, lifted on the hills surrounding the stadium, seated at long tables or in small groups or gathered around the arena floor. So many. So very many.

 

And their voices, that terrible roar of anger and fury, of hatred and malice; all of it was directed at her. All of their hate for all of the crimes she had not committed. It was terrible, so awful it made her want to cry.

 

But what was worse, what made her heart clench painfully at the mere sight; was that at the end of the arena, seated upon a dais risen for the head table, she could see Sesshomaru looking down at her. And his eyes, like so many others around her, were made terrible by the crimson burn of fury.

 

She closed her eyes, shutting herself off from the world around her, trying to find something to hold her together in the black of her mind. She took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she found her centre.

 

“When this is over,” she whispered to the bitch behind her. “I will personally see to it that you take your dishonor to your grave.”

 

Without warning, the bitch struck her. The impact sent Kagome sprawling to the ground, but without her hand to steady herself the impact was hard and rough.

 

“Filthy miko! You are unworthy of speaking to me.” Pulling back tightly on her urges, the bitch lifted herself proudly to look down her nose at the struggling miko. “But I am not ungracious,” she said condescendingly. “Since you are such a weak mortal, I am prepared to offer you a weapon.” Stretching her arm out, she pointed down the length of the arena, past the line of cages holding the rogues, to a pedestal upon which rested a bow and a single arrow.

 

Kagome glanced briefly at the supposed weapon. She wouldn't trust the bitch as far as she could throw her, and she would have laid money on the fact that even should she manage to run the gauntlet between those vicious beasts they were planning on letting loose, that the bow would break with even the smallest pressure against its draw. Even if she won, she would loose.

 

It didn't matter though. She didn't plan on letting things get that far. She had one advantage that this bitch had obviously forgotten. She was a whole hell of a lot smarter than her. Not to mention the fact that, whatever the bitch thought, she was far more powerful.

 

And she could prove it.

 

Lifting herself fully to her feet, Kagome turned away from the demoness. She held herself tall and proud despite her bindings and the screaming pain of her body as she set her sight strait towards the dais.

 

“Please, my Lords.” She bowed deeply. “Allow me to speak.”

 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Did everyone like my Battle Royal? Oh! That's right! I forgot to write it! Lol. No, really, I didn't want to write it. It would have been boring anyways. Who cares so long as we know who won, right? Of course, we still don't know what's going to happen to Kagome; but that's the fun part, right? :P

 

Anyways, I'm off for now. Later days.

 

Shadow