By the Swing of the Sword

Chapter 5

The Girl Who Would Be Queen..

A/N: Oy. Am torn. Have been converted to the one true Sesshoumaru pairing, Sess/Kagura. Not that I have anything against, Rin mind you, but having a sexual relationship with someone who's raised you (since the age of what, four?) lands somewhere in the middle of the creepy land between incest and pedophilia. Am seriously considering re-writing this with Kagura in place of Carine, which incidentally is a pretty bad name for a supposedly Asian demoness. There was supposed to be an Italian side of the family in Check and Checkmate ( the fic in which the OC Carine originated, which if you haven't read is a mafia-centered AU) that explained the European name and physicality, but in this case it flat doesn't make sense. Unless it's one of those dealies where her mother was foreign and she was the only one to take after her...

Anyhow, just thought I'd let you know so you won't be all thrown in case I do go back and change the name and description. As for now I'm going to try and keep her as Carine because I have some ideas about the powers I want her to have, and the wind is too big a part of Kagura to really change I think. I'll try to make her ethnicity make sense too....

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The polished stone floor was cold through her silk slippers as Carine slipped into Sesshoumaru’s chambers. She bowed, but only just. It was a respectful bow of a queen to a king, not the groveling to be expected when the two were parted by a wide gulf of social classes.

She was still unafraid. How annoying.

He could crush her without half trying.

He turned to dismiss his little toady retainer who was trying to attract his Lord’s attention to some treaty or other such nonsense. It could wait. He had dealt with enough today. It seemed like he had dealt with everything today. He was the ruler of the Western Land and he was going to enjoy himself this evening, and if he had to forcibly silence every servant and messenger in the palace to get them to leave him alone, then so be it.


Oh gods. She looked at him. He wasn’t growling at her so why, oh why did she look? Stupid! Stupid… Carine berated herself, but it was too late. She couldn’t erase the image from her mind, of Sesshoumaru, barefoot and bare-chested, his outer kimono untied and drifting behind him, all muscles and perfection. She hadn’t looked at him the Great Hall, she had been too careful of her words to pay attention in the baths, but now? Oh gods….why couldn’t he have been old and ugly?

He was too handsome, too perfect. And he knew it of course. He would see through any fawning of attention, or be simply bored by it, because that is what women had probably been doing to him since he was old enough to care. How could she possibly make him want her, need her, enough to spare her sister? Impossible when he could have a dozen maids far more winsome than her without even asking.

For the first time since that day in her father’s chambers, Carine felt the tremors of despair. She could summon very little hope for herself. She could only pray that Kagome found Inuyasha easier to sway. And that the Prince had enough influence with his brother to save her.

The rustle of garments and the reverberating clang of the door roused Carine from her thoughts, and made her very much aware that they were now alone. She looked up to find his tawny eyes regarding her expectantly. Unsure what to do, and unwilling to say so, she met his gaze, feigning a calm confidence she wished she felt.

He folded his arms across his chest and smiled coldly. “So…entice me, wench.”

“In what manner would you care to be enticed, my Lord?” Her attempt at a sweet smile was a poor one and she knew it.

“Have you been taught nothing then? No teasing tricks to win a suitor? To convince an indifferent husband to get you fat with an heir?”

“I can read the flags signals, and decipher the drum messages, I can speak in the tongues of my people, and the snake-tongued language of the diplomat. I can name you our ports, our trading cities and the goods which cross our borders. I know our generals, both present and long dead, and have studied the arts of war and seen them implemented. I have been trained in the sword, and the fan dance. Forgive me if none of this entices you, but I was trained to rule, not to be a means to an heir.”

Sesshoumaru eyed her in amusement. His callous treatment of her was obviously grating on her patience. He suspected that is was only a healthy wariness of enraging him that kept a bitingly sarcastic tone from her voice. “Pity, then” he drawled, “it would seem that all that effort has gone to waste.” He made a show of walking around her slowly, looking her up and down. He only drew to a halt with the smallest of satisfied smirks when he could plainly see her cheeks aflame, despite her attempts to control her reaction.

“Very well then. Strip. In an entertaining fashion.”

She bit her tongue and flashed another smile that did not reach her smoldering eyes. “ As you wish, my Lord.”

She turned gracefully on one heel as she unwound the obi on her outer kimono. She let the cloth flutter through the air as she turned, allowing her newly unfastened outer layer to billow open. She drew the obi around her neck, and trailed done her body before releasing it, and slowly peeling off her outer kimono. She continued thusly, combining her undressing with the most sinuous dance steps she knew, and a few she made up. Finally, she let the last obi flutter to the ground and she stood before him in her thin, white under kimono.

“Why have you stopped?”

The blood showing in her cheeks was no longer the hot red of embarrassment, but a softer pink caused by the exertions of her dance. She looked at him with her head cocked to the left, peering through her tousled hair. Her lips looked red and tempting, and he swore he could sense the pulse throbbing at the base of her neck, where her pale skin met the even more pale, and slightly translucent cloth. He set his jaw against the thrill of arousal rushing through his blood at the site. He would not be undone by this slip of a woman.

“Well, I thought perhaps…that is, I had heard that men sometimes like-“

“To undress you myself?” He laughed at her, the embarrassment in her stance and the fury in her eyes only serving to goad him on. He drew close to her, so that his breathe brushed against her face. “You thought perhaps I would enjoy slipping the hadujabon from your shoulders, kissing the newly exposed skin as I followed the cloth down your body…” He noted with some satisfaction that the muscle in her jaw was jumping again. He abruptly stepped away from her.

“No. I would not care to do so. You are not my wife, my cherished lover, you are my whore. Do not expect to be treated so differently.”

“’Tis surprising to me that with such a charming tongue, you have no such wife or cherished lover to warm your bed instead of one for which you have such obvious distaste.” She shook her hair out of her eyes, so to glare at him directly.

“You would be wise to guard your temper,” he warned with narrowed eyes, “I have little patience for such outbursts.”

“And I have little patience for being abused and baited at every turn, and treated like a common whore by someone who only out ranks by the fact that my father still lives!”

“ Given the chance, I would have dearly loved to have remedied that earlier, but I fear we would have winded up in much the same place my lady, though perhaps without the time limit-“

They were interrupted by the groan of the door swinging open, and husky female voice calling out to “Lord Sesshoumaru.”

He turned so quickly Carine had to throw up her hands to shield herself from his swinging tresses, before stepped out from behind him to see the owner of the voice.

She seemed older than Carine, although her face was smooth and what one could call beautiful. Her dress was scandalous, she was very obviously only wearing a silk outer kimono, and that was tied to loosely that it gaped at front to provide a view of her epic breasts. She was leaning against the door with her back arched in a very provocative manner, her hands splayed obscenely, as if the mere sight of her lord sent her into ecstasy.

“I have no need of you tonight. I gave orders that the harem be informed of the situation.” The tone in was dangerous, but she paid no heed.

“Oh, I heard all about this cold, skinny little princess.” She eyed Carine with a disparaging snort. “But we both know she’s not woman enough to fulfill you my Lord. I though you would appreciate an…experienced hand, to satisfy you where her fumbling attempts could not.” She pushed herself off the door and began to slink towards them, but he moved quickly to close the space between them, preventing her from getting further inside the room.

“You are presumptuous and forget your place. Be grateful I am preoccupied or I would have you whipped. Now get out of my sight.”

Her instant dislike for the woman aside, Carine hoped she was wise enough to leave. But alas she hoped in vain..

“Oh, you don’t need to put on a show for your trembling little virgin back there. I know you want me Sesshoumaru, no one please you like I do..” She pressed herself against him, her hand fumbling with his obi.

Suddenly she was dangling in mid-air, his claws digging into her hair and throat. “Beg for forgiveness, and I may not kill you.” His voice was a terrible hiss and his eyes flashed red. But she still smiled. “Wanna play rough do y-“

The rest of the word never came. With a horrible squelsh Sesshoumaru separated head from body and tossed both into the corridor. He stepped to the doorway and howled for a servant to clean the mess, then slammed the door with a resounding bang, and stalked off to the far side of his chambers.

Immensely grateful that his attention, and indeed his presence was elsewhere was the moment, Carine backed up against the wall for support, and concentrated on breathing. It had happened so fast she had not had the chance to look away, and even now she fought to keep her gorge down, where it belonged. But the incident was sobering too, for now she knew the consequences of pushing too hard. She must make every attempt not to rile him again.

He returned presently, the scent of soap about him and his kimono was now completely discarded, presumably due to blood spatter. She met his eyes bravely and finished her strip dance. When at last she stood naked before him he nodded his approval.

“Have you nothing to say about what just happened? That seems most …unlike you.” She saw the challenged in his eyes and was chilled by the thought that perhaps the whole thing had been planned to test her. But no, the anger in him had been real, and she could see real self –disgust in his eyes for his lack of control.

“Well, I suppose I should be grateful that you washed your hands.”

He eyed her for a moment, then seemed satisfied. “I did not do it to comfort you. Now get on the bed.”

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Kikyou’s slipped behind the ceremonial suit of armor as quietly as she could. No one had seen her, servants rarely tarried in her father’s private audience chamber. She only hoped she had guessed his destination correctly. It was vital she hear this conversation, if she could hear over the blood pounding in her ears, and the frantic cadence of her heart

She had recognized his carriage in an instant, even before she had spotted the man himself. Everything about him had been permanently etched in her mind, from his cold laughter to how the air seemed dead when he was near. How no one else ever noticed, for his charming face and pretty words wove a powerful spell, a spell that no longer held her in thrall since she had seen though it. And what she had seen she hoped to never encounter again.

But that hope was of course in vain. For Prince Naruku was single, royal and wealthy. Very wealthy. And her father would afford him anything he desired to join their royal bloodlines, and more importantly, their wealth and land.

And what he desired was her.

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A/N: Cliff Hanger, but only just. Sorry , but the chapter just broke off better here. But to make up for it I posted the 6 at the same time. And yes, there is sex. (I shall continue on in this paragraph well aware that no one will read past that last sentence) Massive apologies for it taking so long, the process of prying the story from one’s brain is tricky b/c once it’s on paper, its concrete.

Oh, and if anything thought the phrase ‘epic breasts’ was slightly odd, there’s a scene from Closer (movie, I haven’t seen the play. Yet.) where Jude Law says ‘epic tits’ and I thought it was the best boob description ever. But my narrative voice is a bit too ….something to say ‘tits’ I think.