InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ When In Rome ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

Story: When In Rome

Summary:  When prince Inuyasha of the Eastern lands asked for a bedslave, he meant a cute little uke. He definitely did not mean the tall, rugged, stunningly beautiful prisoner of war with silver hair and purple stripes on his face. When the adorable, puppy-eared prince tries to show him his place as a slave, what’s Sesshoumaru to do? Sess/Inu YAOI Master!Inuyasha Slave!Sess Dom!Sess Sub!Inu

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha and make no money from the writing of this fic.

Chapter 1

“Sometimes you lose a battle, but mischief always wins the war.”

–John Green, ‘Looking for Alaska’

The young war messenger boy trembled as the stood before the throne of Inu no Taisho, the great phantom beast, ruler of the Western Lands. Don’t kill the messenger was rumoured to be a well-known belief of the just dog General, but he didn’t think anyone had ever had the misfortune of relaying bad news of this magnitude to the king yet.

Inu on Taisho’s face was inscrutable as the heard the message. The dark, empty throne-room was dead silent as the messenger waited to either be dismissed or dismembered.

“The battle is lost,” Taisho repeated, face cast in frightening shadows as he stared off into the distance.

The messenger nodded hesitantly. Sweat from his brow dripped on his nervous hands clasped in front of him.

“And my son has been captured,” Taisho continued, as though repeating the words to himself would make sure the words were not false.

“Y-yes, milord,” the boy said hesitantly.

Taisho’s golden eyes suddenly snapped up to meet his, and the messenger was afraid he may have eep-ed.

“You have done well to carry the message to me,” Taisho said, his deep, authoritative voice resounding in the big, spacious room. “Keep the news to yourself. Do not breathe a word of it to anyone.”

The messenger stared up at him, mouth falling open, then nodded frantically.

Inu no Taisho’s eyes were hard and intense as they bored into his wide frightened ones. “If anyone knows of this, it is your life that will be forfeit.”

The boy gasped and bowed low.

“Y-yes, my Lord.”

“It doesn’t become the ruler of the West to be so transparent in his glee, my Lord,” Lady Tsukiko drawled, leaning against a shadowed pillar in the far end of the room.

Inu no Taisho turned to her and scowled.

“What are you talking about, woman,” he said. Irritation was swiftly replacing the dark, smug satisfaction he had been feeling.

Tsukiko walked in and waved her hand non chalantly. The long, almost translucent silver sleeve of her kimono caught the faint moonlight from the open window and shimmered beautifully. “All the… dramatics.”

“The boy was properly nervous,” Taisho said, tightlipped. His voice was neutral but his hands were clenched into fists in his lap.

Tsukiko smirked. “That is his disingenuity and not your triumph.”

Taisho couldn’t keep the grin off his face even though he felt like throttling her.

“But you see, I was right,” he declared. “The brat finally got his comeuppance.”

Tsukiko tsked and checked her flawless nails.

“And what is my lord’s plan for his first-born now, pray tell?”

Taisho grinned even wider.

“Let him be.”

Tsukiko raised one eyebrow.

“He must understand the consequences of his actions,” Taisho declared. “We aren’t doing him any favours by pulling him out of every misfortune.”

The lady of the West gave him a look that made him want to curl up on his throne and hide from her x-raying gaze.

“And this has nothing to do with the fact that you’re relishing his misery since he defied you?”

Taisho’s lips thinned. “….no.”

Tsukiko laughed. The Lord of the Western lands, the great phantom beast threw a cushion at her.

Sesshoumaru scowled as he was led away in shackles towards the palace with the other prisoners of war.

The Land of the east was dry and hot, with far less trees and vegetation than the Western Lands. Hot, dry winds blew all day long, and the people of the land seemed to be used to a much harsher way of life than the subjects of the Western Lord. The palace of the Eastern Lord was visible in the distance. It was an imposing structure compared to the surrounding dwellings, but not nearly as grand as the Western castle. Sesshoumaru deduced that the Eastern land was less advanced and less economically well-off than the West.

When he was captured, he was stripped of his effects and was wearing the simplest clothes made of sack cloth. His long silver hair was tied back in a simple plait. Actually, it was customary for slaves to have their hair almost shaved off by slavers, but none of the slavers felt brave enough to approach Sesshoumaru with a razor, though they didn’t know who he was, and couldn’t explain why they were afraid.

And that was the one stipulation his father and mother, the Lord and Lady of the Western Lands had made – he could not reveal his identity to the enemy if he was to be while allowed to take a small portion of their army and some so-called valiant men. They had insisted from the start that it was a bad idea to wage war on a land so very far away from home, and he had insisted it was a battle that he could win.

The upshot of it was that in order to make him realize the importance of being a General instead of a fighter, they had stipulated that he could take what men he needed and go, provided his word that he would not wage the war in the name of the Western lord Inu no Taisho, and would in no way let them know who he was.  After all, he may be able to slaughter an entire army himself if it came down to it, and just the name of the great Inu no Taisho was many a times enough to have kings surrendering in awe, but this was training for Sesshoumaru to be a ruler, and that meant winning with armies, not brute force.

This meant not transforming into his true demon form, or using most of his powers, because although still much smaller than Inu no Taisho, the form of the legendary beast was instantly recognizable. So he had led his men into battle, not as a Taiyoukai, but as a regular prince, only to find that his army was filled with a bunch of weaklings who couldn’t hold their own when their life depended on it.

That is how he found himself in this situation, forced to forfeit the battle because his father’s men were thoroughly, stunningly, incompetent and had become little more than frightened rabbits when he had outlined his plan of attack. They were used to Inu no Taisho’s leadership and the great General was not only a strong warrior, but a prudent strategist. Lord Sesshoumaru’s strategy was either disconcertingly brilliant or absolutely crazy, and none of them were brave enough to risk their lives to find out which, and their panic had lost them the war.

Furious as he was at their insubordination during battle, continuing the battle would cost them their lives, and returning to the Western Lands as the victor but the sole survivor of the battle would defeat the purpose of this whole endeavor and give his father a chance to gloat and that was even less acceptable than being cast in chains.

The prisoners were made to walk barefoot on the baked hot, rocky ground, and the burly slavers with whips in their hands made sure they didn’t falter too much. The slavers had dark, cracked skin like the townspeople, and they wore clothing made out of some thin, light cloth. The baking rocks that were making the other youkai groan and flinch were as nothing to the Taiyoukai, and he let the blazing heat fuel thoughts of what was to be wreaked upon the bungling nincompoops that his father deigned to call soldiers once he freed everyone from here and brought them back home.

But somehow, the slavers’ whip always seemed to miss him; although the silver haired youkai had neither shown any exceptional powers nor caused them any trouble, the slavers found that their usual sadistic instinct wasn’t enough to allow them to strike the man, and when he raised his eyes to look around, they somehow lowered their own.

They were almost at the palace when a young boy, talking loudly and uncouthly to courtly looking men caught their attention. The nobles or courtiers were bowing and scraping hastily, keeping their voice to a whisper, hoping the other man would follow their lead, but to no avail. The slavers and their prisoners stopped of a moment when it seemed there was a chance they would cross his path. Soon they were close enough to see the young man dressed in a red haori and hakama. Sesshoumaru was the first to hear the courtiers addressing him as ‘my prince’, and the Lord of the West’s eyes derisively took in the shabbily worn expensive garment, broken, dirty nails, and coarse white hair.

“That’s it. I don’t wanna hear one more word outta you all or I’m gonna pound your heads into the ground. That clear?” the boy in red growled. The nobles, towards whom this was directed, seemed more terrified of the fact that the boy did not seem to be comprehending their concerns, rather than of the threat.

So this was the young prince of the Eastern lands, Sesshoumaru thought. The boy was clearly a hanyou, and yet he was being allowed to order full-blooded youkai around. The boy’s conduct and language was disgraceful, but then, what more could be expected of a half-breed?

A disdainful “tsk” was audible, the puppy-eared boy and the nobles all looked around in surprise at the source of the sound.

It didn’t take long for them to figure out that it had come from the silver haired male among the slaves who were being taken to the palace.

The boy’s brows drew down in a thunderous frown, and he stomped towards the slaves and the slavers. The nobles and courtiers momentarily forgot the argument they were having and hurried after their prince.

The silver haired demon who had displayed insolence had his head bowed as was proper for him, and they couldn’t see the youkai’s eyes behind his silver bangs.

“You dare speak before the prince?” a short, stout courtier demanded.

The slave remained silent.

“Pretty gutsy for a slave, ain’t ya?” the prince smirked, crossing his arms arrogantly across his chest.

The other man didn’t rise to the provocation. He said nothing and his head remained bowed. The boy’s eyes were drawn to the purple markings on his arms and wrists, which contrasted against his extremely pale skin.

“Who is he?” he demanded, looking at the slaver closest to him, who had dark, coarse skin and wore just a loin cloth around his round, fat stomach.

The man’s hand tensed around his whip. “N-no one important, sir. One of the upstarts who tried to stage a rebellion.”

The prince of the East was fascinated. Apart from his impertinence earlier, the man had done nothing out of the ordinary. He was standing respectfully with his head bowed and eyes lowered, and yet, he didn’t fit in with the others. Maybe it was his skin that was paler than even his, or maybe it was his posture that wasn’t resigned or fearful like the others’, but the other boy couldn’t look away.

“Well, are you gonna let him get away with that?” he demanded of the slavers. They were startled and glanced at each other apprehensively.

One of them, the dark-skinned one with the rotund belly gritted his tobacco-stained teeth and raised his whip hesitantly. “O-of course not, my lord.”

He brought the whip down in two slashes across the man’s back. Inuyasha hungrily waited for his reaction, waited for him to either fall to his knees or scream from the pain – for some reason, he found himself desperate to see the other man’s eyes.

The demon didn’t flinch. He didn’t stagger forward or even move his head at all; the young prince did not see even a single muscle tense in his arms or back. When he looked up, it was a few moments later, and it wasn’t at the prince who had given the order. He turned his head and raised his eyes for the first time and locked them with the dark-skinned slaver’s. The prince of the East still couldn’t see his eyes, but he saw the slaver’s eyes widen, and his brow was suddenly drenched in sweat.

A moment later, the silver haired slave once again had his head bowed. If the slaver had expected him to try to break his bonds and attack, it didn’t happen. Their prince seemed satisfied with the punishment, and stepped back to let them continue on their way. The silver-haired demon didn’t give them any further trouble as they reached their destination, but the slaver couldn’t shake the feeling that he had just shortened his life by centuries.

That night, prince Inuyasha lay awake in his large luxurious bed, staring up at the ceiling. Cool wind gently blew the curtains of his window. The temperature was pleasant, the bed was soft, but he couldn’t get the silver-haired, impudent youkai out of his mind.

No matter what, he hadn’t gotten to see the other man’s eyes. He wondered what would become of him; he would probably be put to work in one of the labour camps, forced to do hard labour for the rest of his probably short life. There was no point in wishing to see him again; their paths would never cross.

Inuyasha closed his eyes.

When sleep finally came, he dreamt of thunderstorms and purple stripes on pale skin.

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A/N: Hello again! ^.^ You will have noticed that Inuyasha and Sesshoumaru are once again not brothers in this fic. Also, for those who were worried about it, Sess will NOT be uke. =^.^= Rating will go up later.

Review and let me know what you think!