Chronicles of the West

Chapter One Hundred and Three



Sesshoumaru turned his gaze back to Ayeka who stood at the edge of the wall, staring out over the forest. "I'll wait for Kurama and Taisha" she announced, her need to stay active and alert pushing forward. It was better to remain busy than to think about her child and let that helpless feeling grow.. Sesshoumaru shook his head, "You will be waiting for a while then" he told her. She blinked up at him, "What do you mean?".

Sesshoumaru took hold of her hand and tugged her along behind him, "Lets just say that Kurama seems ready to shed his status as a bachelor". Ayeka turned pink, "What?". Sesshoumaru grunted at her as they reached their chamber door.

She followed after him, eager now to hear what he had to say. "What are you talking about?" she asked. Golden eyes narrowed on her upturned face, "As if you didn't know" he growled, "You have been in league with that thief from the start haven't you?".

Ayeka chuckled softly at Sesshoumaru's non-existent anger, "Thief? Still going to call him that when he is mated to her?" she asked. He snorted, "Absolutely. He is out there set on stealing our daughter". Ayeka lifted her arms so he could pull her bloodied haori from her shoulders.

"With your approval it seems" she murmured. "Ha" he grumbled, "As if I could fight a winning battle against the females in this house". Ayeka felt her eyes grow moist, "I love you" she whispered, leaning up to press a kiss to his chin.

He stepped back, his voice gruff when he spoke, "Now is not the time for loving woman, I must tend your wounds". His eyes tracing over the many cuts and scratches on her pale flesh, one wound near her shoulder was particularly deep.

The bruising surrounding it was horrid looking. He began to wonder how she'd managed to fight with it. He reached out and lifted her arm, testing the range of motion. "Does that pain you?" he asked with a frown. Ayeka's jaw clenched slightly, "Not overly" she told him.

Damn stubborn woman. Sesshoumaru slowly lifted the limb higher. "Are you certain of that?" he asked. Sweat popped out on her pale brow, "Yes I am sur…Arrgggh! You asshole! What was that for?" she demanded as he released her.

"For lying to me" he replied, "You must be more careful Ayeka. You are not a large woman, you might have lost it". She snorted, "No way. I am much to good for that" she told him. His silver brow arched, "And who told you that?". She winked at him, "Your father" she whispered, "And you". Sesshoumaru growled at her stepping closer and she backed away. In this manner, he herded her into the bath.

Kneeling on the side he carefully cleaned the wounds. Ayeka hissed and winced from time to time though his hands were steady and gentle. He lifted her from the water and prodded the edges of the wounds encouraging free bleeding.

When he was satisfied that the wounds were clear of debris, he began to lap at the smaller marks, watching them vanish from sight. The deeper ones would be gone by tomorrow and the deepest in a matter of days. Her healing was not as fast as his after all.

He ran his tongue over the shoulder wound and she turned her face into his neck. He rumbled soothingly, knowing that even his gentle touch was painful. She relaxed against him and let him finish his task. He rose, pulling her up with him.

He reached over to the low shelf and picked up a roll of clean bandaging. With deft hands he wrapped up the wounded shoulder and sent her off to bed while he bathed. There was much they would speak of and for now he just wanted silence to collect his thoughts.


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Kurama searched from the air for a long time. "Looks like we do this the old fashioned way" he said to the dragon beneath him. Ah- Un bellowed his agreement and began to descend rapidly, landing with a grace belied by his size.

Kurama cursed the rain as he tried to sort through scents. Blood, he could smell that easily enough. Pale golden eyes searched frantically for some indication of her whereabouts. She was not among the fallen, he'd flipped every corpse over just to make certain.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity passed he noticed a set of footsteps. Much of the sad trail was lost in the water, but in places where the mud was deeper, he could see them. Leading away from the field. His heart beat a little faster and he called to Ah-Un.

He with the dragon behind him, followed the meandering trail, there was a deeper, larger impression in the wet earth here. As if someone had fallen, just beyond that, wet silver strands of hair hung from a spiky thorn bush. "It must be her" he said. Ah-Un gurgled his agreement, long used to being talked to.

Hours later, the wet, bedraggled, and worried fox saw a dark recess in the mountainside that he'd been heading for. She'd journeyed quite far, stumbling often. Was it her wounds or that damnable mist of confusion? He poked his head into the cave and sniffed. There. She was there.

"Taisha?" he called as he entered the gloom. His eyes swiftly adjusted to the odd half light. Ah-Un wasn't helping, he'd crowded in behind Kurama eager to get out of the rain himself. Kurama couldn't blame him, and reached into his hair, pulling a small seed forth.

He knelt and carefully planted it, "Grow for me little one" he whispered, "And light my way". A small sprout appeared in the dimness, growing taller and stronger and spreading outward into all available corners of the cavern. Small buds formed along it's length, petals unfurling and opening. A soft glow coming from them. The light filling the stone enclosure with a hazy pinkish light. Kurama looked over at Ah-Un. "Here" he said and planted another small seed. This one produced a squat bush that gave off heat.

The dragon snorted and snuffled, manuevering his bulk to block the entrance and get closer to the warmth. Kurama headed further into the cave, he smelled water here, hot water and soon he felt the moist tendrils moving in the air around him.

"Taisha?" he called again. There was no answer. To his left the vine wriggled just a bit and he smiled, "That's it". He dashed off down the cooler cavern until he came to a small antechamber and against the wall, lay the object of his thoughts.

"Taisha!" he cried rushing towards her, kneeling beside her pale form. She was soaked and chilled as he gathered her in his arms. When he lifted her, her pale head lolled against his shoulder. Her heartbeat was steady, her breathing raspy.

He had to get her warm. Standing he rushed back towards where he'd deduced the spring to be. He tugged her clothing from her with quick hands and laid her in the shallows, while he removed his own. Then he carried her into deeper water, watching the flush of heat spread over her skin.

She whimpered and struggled against him. "Shh Taisha" he soothed, "I'm here now". Green eyes opened to slits, "Ku….Kurama" she whispered. He nodded, nuzzling against her cheek. She smiled faintly. "I fought" she told him. He nodded, "I know you did. "That plant was tough" she said and then she slipped into sleep again.

Kurama's ears swiveled. Plant? What plant? She'd fought a plant? His eyes quickly scanned over her flesh, searching for any clues. He laid her on the stone outcropping and searched more thoroughly. On the back of her calf was a puncture mark, the black lines flaring out from it, told him all he needed to know.

"Nightbreath" he whispered. A poisonous plant that was more than capable of fighting off threats. He growled, getting her warm had been the wrong thing to do, that would speed the killing venom. He pulled her up into his arms and hurried from the spring chamber and back to the cold one she'd been in earlier.

He flipped her onto her stomach and commanded the light bloom to come closer. He touched the wound on her leg. There. A hardness met his fingers, the thorn was still within. He let his claws sink into her soft flesh, his other hand holding her down as she struggled to flee the pain.

He made another incision and then took hold of the thorn. It took two tries as it was slippery with blood but he managed to tug it free, flinging it against the wall in anger. She thrashed and snarled at him. Reaching into his long hair again he pulled another seed, this one large and knobby looking. He regarded it for a silent moment.

"This is gonna hurt like hell" he told her and she growled at him. She was growing feverish and was not quite lucid. He stabbed his claw though the outer shell of the seed and the orange colored slime that seeped outward made him smile.

Wrinkling his nose against the smell, he applied it liberally to her wound. It hissed and fizzled and she yelped as the poison was found and burned away in her body. Her whole body shivered and she began to sweat. "I hate you!" she cried out in her pain. Her fangs flashing at him

Kurama was heartless, he kept applying it. "I know you do" he agreed good naturedly. She writhed and whimpered and he held her down. She snarled and snapped at him but he took it all in stride. "You'll thank me later" he promised her. She glared up at him, "I'll kill you later".

So it was, that the hours wore on as the antidote fought for her salvation and the venom fought for her very life. Through it all she raged and sobbed, her whole body contorting at sharp angles in her discomfort. It was a hellish treatment, one that Kurama himself had been unlucky enough to experience. Just once, and that was enough. Gods but she was strong for a female, it was taking a good deal of strength to keep her down.

After an eternity of fighting her, the fever broke. Leaving a limp and shivering Taisha in it's wake. She looked pitiful, like a newborn pup and Kurama smiled. He rolled her over heedless of the small abrasions she'd given them both on the rough floor or the dirt and small pebbles that had plastered themselves to her sweaty flesh.

He pushed her damp and filthy hair from her face and smiled gently, "Taisha?". She slowly opened her eyes, no longer clouded with fever or poison. Just tired, very tired. Her lids lowered to reveal only green slits. He lifted her against his chest and carried her back to the spring, "Lets get you clean" he told her.

By the time they had reached the spring, she was sleeping. Somehow, seeing Taisha reduced to such a state made him angry. That one so strong, so stubborn would be brought so low wasn't right. He growled softly, causing her brows to furrow and her eyes to open slightly. "We are going to bathe now" he told her. Her eyes closed once more, but the uneasiness left her frame.

Wading into the water, he settled her on a rock ledge and began to sluice water over her, rinsing and cleansing her. She leaned weakly against him, no fight left in her. On some level she knew she'd be mortified at his familiar handling of her when she felt better…but not right now. Her body ached from her exertions, a strange lethargy clung to her. When she was clean, Kurama carried her to a large rock grown over with velvety moss and lichen.

Settling her, he began to lap at her wounds, his saliva cleaning, healing, sealing. She whimpered when he moved her slightly and he picked his head up. "Where do you hurt?" he asked. She took in a deep breath, "Everywhere" she admitted, "Like someone beat me". She felt more long, slow laps of his tongue against her then. The slight sting of his saliva as it worked it's way into her wounds.

Kurama chuckled softly and rolled her onto her stomach, his strong hands falling to her shoulders as he began to massage the ache and tension away. His hands could truly steal anything she decided, at the moment they stole pain and ache and all thought from her. She sighed happily and soon succumbed to sleep.

The youko continued his care of her, though he had an ache of his own now. Seeing her spread before him and not being able to touch, in the ways he wanted, was sure to earn him a high place in the hearts of any watching deities.

When he was finished touching her velvety skin, soothing away those aches she'd endured, he curled himself around her, drawing her against him. They would be safe and warm here. He threaded his elegant fingers through her long hair and tilted her head back to press a chaste kiss to her lips.

Life had changed for him, his usual coldness, his calculating attitude seemed to dissolve in the depths of vibrant green eyes. He'd lost himself, and he the king of thieves had been robbed of his most guarded possession. His heart. And oddly enough, he didn't mind, quite content to leave that delicate treasure in her capable hands.