Sesshoumaru Meets His Match?
folder
InuYasha › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
12
Views:
3,852
Reviews:
16
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
InuYasha › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
12
Views:
3,852
Reviews:
16
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story.
Liz's Punishment Begins!
I don't own any Inuyasha characters except for the ones I have made up, ( such as Liz, Susan, blah, blah, blah, you get the idea ) and taken from my own twisted and disturbed mind
Dictionary
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Ikeike – bitch
Jajauma - unmanageable woman, shrew, bitch (also means “restive horse”, but you can guess I’m not using that!)
Korcs – bastard, misbegotten, cur, mongrel ( Hungarian )
Sayuri - lily ( Japanese )
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A/N: Just some commentary for starters…
To my Aff.net readers: Hmmm, cute? Well, I wasn’t exactly aiming for cute, but I can live with it, but I soon hope to suck the cuteness right out of it…At least I hope I can suck it out…O.o! That sounded a bit bawdy!
To my FF.net readers: I hope that so far you have enjoyed this story so far. I know I have enjoyed writing this; my only sadness is that not many of you have reviewed it after reading it. That is ok; I just hope that you continue to come back for more.
Anyhoo! On with the story I say!
Chapter 6 – Liz's Punishment Begins!
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As they rose through the air on the cloud, Liz leaned as far away as possible while Sesshoumaru kept a strong grip on her injured arm. This caused her to flinch ever so slightly. She didn’t want him to know that he was hurting her. Nope, she’d rather die, rather than let the control freak next to her know anything. He’d probably blame her for getting hurt in the first place. However, there was one important thing that had her fullest attention. It was the fact that they were flying through the air. She chalked it up to dreaming. *Yup,* thought Liz, *I’m dreaming all right. I’m still in the forest and this whole experience has been one big nightmare. One never-ending nightmare, I’m not here at all. I’m still lying against that log asleep in fog as thick as peanut butter and when I finally wake up, I am going to strangle Susan with her own underwear. Then I’m going to go home and take a nice relaxing, soothing bubble bath and then, go to work. Yup, that is what is happening, one giant nightmare.*
However, when the cloud started to descend, she started to panic even more. That wind felt awfully real, not to mention the feel of the child’s hand that was one of her hands. What also felt real was the feel of Sesshoumaru's hand wrapped around her upper arm in a punishing grip. It was sure to leave an ugly bruise as well as the little cuts on her arm that were already there. She fidgeted.
Sesshoumaru looked down at the girl next to him. He could smell the panic rolling off her in waves. He quirked an eyebrow and readjusted his grip on her arm. That is when he felt the slick feeling of blood in his hand. He looked at her and then again at her arm. This time he saw her flinching as he adjusted his grip. He looked down at her arm, it was then he noticed and realized just how tight he was holding her. It was as if he didn’t want to let go. He let go fast.
She sighed gratefully when he let go. Her arm was throbbing from the cuts and the tight hold he had on her. Shaking it a little bit to bring back the feeling in her arm, Liz gave attention the rapidly approaching ground. In the palace's courtyard there where twenty of the ugliest ~things~ she has ever seen. Perusing the gathering she shuddered as she saw one hack up a wad of phlegm and spit it out on the ground. It was gross. As soon as they landed Liz was about to make a quick escape to Rin’s room we a cool voice stopped her.
“Do not try to run woman. You have disobeyed an order. You will follow me.” With that, the tall lord swept by an irate Liz and a confused Rin. Liz, however, turned in the other direction intent on putting Rin in her room before going before the “firing squad”. She made it about three feet before a tall figure blocked her way with a scowl on his face. *Well, well, Mr. Iceberg does have emotions,* was Liz’s fleeting thought before she was dragged across the courtyard with Rin in tow. However before they went much farther Liz looked down at the small girl and said as she released her hand, “Go back to your room sweetie, I’ll be there later, ok?” That was all she could get out before she disappeared inside the sliding shoji doors. They shut with an ominous click.
---- Just inside the double doors ----
He was silent as he walked to his room dragging the infuriating female behind him. He could hear her gasping for breath, but he didn’t slow down one bit. He just kept on walking until he reached his room and by that time Liz was more than just gasping for breath, she was panting.
Opening the door, he roughly shoved her inside before him and as he stepped into the room swiftly shut the door closed behind him. They stared at each other. Liz rubbed her arm where he held it and never broke her gaze from his and he likewise didn’t. He wanted to let her know that he would never back down from the challenge in her gaze. He spoke first into the pregnant silence between them.
“You, wench, are in trouble. You disobeyed me several times, challenging my authority over you and this household. And for that, you will be punished most severely,” he said in a low voice with barely suppressed anger. She was able to do what most humans and demons ( excluding his half-brother, for he did that every time he saw the hanyou ) couldn’t do. And that was to make him angry beyond reason. He was dangerously close to that edge.Outrage was written all over the redheads face as he made his little speech, but before she could speak, he continued.
“So, therefore, you will no longer be kept as a guest, but as a servant. Yes, that would be a most fitting punishment for someone who constantly disobeys her betters. From now on you will be working with the housekeeping servants and three nights a week, until I let you go, you will help out in the kitchen and serving the meals to Rin.” With that pronouncement, he moved to toss her to the servant waiting outside the door, but she stopped him as she came to stand toe-to-toe to him.
“Where in the hell do you get off treating me like this,” asked Liz with open hostility.
“I-,” he opened his mouth to retort but didn’t get to finish as Liz butted in.
“I am a guest in your home. An unwilling one at that! As such, guests - no matter what the circumstances of their visit - are supposed to be treated with courtesy. You have been nothing but rude and demanding. Not to mention you've kept my property from me. It doesn't matter if its not technically mine or not. What's more, I couldn’t care less that you don’t like me. I will leave when I want. And speaking of leaving, I want to leave now.” By the time she was done, she was poking him in the chest with every other word with him growing even angrier by the second.
*Who does this bitch think she is,* thought an outraged Lord of the Western Lands. The air in the room was still, nothing moved. It was if the very air in the room was afraid to move less it incur the wrath of the demon lord. “Ikeike,” he hissed venomously before grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her against him not caring that he was hurting her with the large metal spikes that were on his armor. He was just very, very angry that she dare talk to him in such a manner. Not to mention poking him in the chest as she spoke. In a chillingly angry voice as he continued, “Do not ever speak to me in such a manner jajauma! I am Lord here, and my word is ~law~. If I so wanted, woman, I would order your head brought to me on a silver platter, if I so desired. I am being very generous to let you live, ningen.” He roughly shoved her away making her lose her balance. She couldn’t decide what to rub, her rear or her arm again.
“Korcs,” she hissed under her breath, as she stood up on slightly wobbly legs while clutching her right arm again, which was starting to bleed from all the abrupt movement. She winced and clenched her hand into a fist.
Sesshoumaru raised an eyebrow at the obvious curse, but didn’t say anything. He did however, drag her over to him once again, this time inspecting the wounds. They were not that deep, so he didn’t worry about it much; he pushed her arm away and turned back to open the door to his room when he sensed her moving around behind him. “What are you looking for, woman?”
“My friends backpack, I need some things out of there to take care of these wounds, Sir,” she said sarcastically while turning in the same spot trying to look for her pack. She wasn’t going to give him another excuse to rail at her.
“You do not need anything from it, you will be fine, just wrap clean linen around it to stem the flow of blood and keep the wounds themselves clean.” He never once looked back at her as he opened the door and motioned to whoever was out there and ignored the stomping foot behind him. He smirked. He spoke quickly and silently, and when that was done, he turned back towards Liz and with an imperious flick of his hand summoned her over to the doorway making sure to leave room between him and her, he was glad Rin wasn’t anything like this woman. He had enough to take care of in his household without the aggravation of instructing her on how to behave properly.
Sighing and trying not to roll her eyes, Liz walked past him without getting close, she was angry enough to spit nails and she wanted to stay as far away as possible so she wouldn’t be tempted to do something stupid like say, slap that arrogant look off his face? She was very tempted to just that. Moving past him she never looked back as the servant lead her away. She didn’t cower, cringe, or hang her head in shame because as far as she was concerned she didn’t do anything wrong. Clutching her arm as she rounded the corner, she vowed one way or another that she was going to leave this hellish place.
Sesshoumaru watched as the woman walked down the corridor they just came down twenty minutes before. Neither cringing, or cowering nor walking with her head lowered in shame, as she should have Sesshoumaru reluctantly admired her spirit. It was the kind of pride he could see in his own kind, more specifically, inu demons. *Such a waste,* thought Sesshoumaru briefly as he effectively pushed all thoughts of the troublesome woman behind him.
---- Other side of the palace ----
“I HAVE TO WHAT?” shouted Liz at the top of her lungs while staring incredulously at the young demoness who was standing in front of her wearing an expressionless face. *Like master like servant,* thought Liz briefly. Before digesting what she was just told.
The demoness that was escorting her to the servant’s quarters was of average height and wearing a beige obi with a slightly darker brown outer linen robe and a white under shirt. On her dainty feet are hand woven sandals of somewhat good quality. The woman's long black hair was tied neatly back in a low ponytail tied off with a scrap of white cloth. Looking the girl over once again, Liz deducted by the color scheme that is what servants wore and what she would be wearing as well until her punishment had ended.
“You have to wear what I am wearing,” said the female with a bland smile.
“You’ve got to be kidding me, right,” groaned Liz as if in agony.
Again, the servant shook her head in the negative, indicating that she wasn’t kidding in the least.
“Well, at least this outfit is more bearable than the ones that were in my wardrobe. Someone must be color blind or something,” said Liz resignedly as she once again started in the direction of the servants' wing.
It was a long and twisting route with many changes in directions so Liz had long ago stopped counting how many lefts and rights she had to take and where to take them and started to look over her surroundings. She was always able to remember a route better by landmarks, rather than by actual directions. She was looking around when suddenly an unusually large portrait came into view.
The portrait stood six inches above the floor to six inches from the ceiling on a wall that was at least ten feet in height. Making the painting roughly nine and half feet high by three feet wide. All it showed in the painting was the person’s upper chest area, shoulders and the head. The man appeared dressed in battle armor judging by the spikes on the shoulders and the tough looking breastplate.
The man in it looked just like Lord Sesshoumaru, but Liz could tell the man in the painting wasn’t the irate man she just left. It was of an older man by the looks of him, not to mention the man in the portrait's facial expression was a lot more welcoming than that of the man she just left. He also had similar markings on his cheeks but they appeared jagged as opposed to the smooth lines of Lord Sesshoumaru's cheek markings. The only thing she couldn’t tell was if he had a crescent moon on his forehead as the man’s bangs hid them from her view. She turned to the servant who stopped to look for her charge.
“Who is this man,” asked Liz as she continued to stare at the large portrait.
“That is Lord Sesshoumaru’s father, Lord Inutaisho; he passed away almost a century ago.” Sayuri said rather impatiently while restlessly shifting from foot to foot.
"Oh, ok. I thought there was something familiar between him and your boss."
With that, Liz and the quiet servant girl finally made their way to the far end corner of the palace. The place was huge and widespread, which made the trip over to the other side a lot longer. Turning one last corner, they came to the dormitory where the single females slept four to a room. Liz was a bit shocked as she recounted all the rooms she passed mentally. *One, two, three...six, seven...ten!* counted Liz wide-eyed as she turned to the girl next to her and asked with surprise lacing her voice, “Surely not all of these are occupied! There are ten rooms!”
Sayuri blinked a time or two before answering mildly, “Yes, all rooms are occupied and there are almost twice as many rooms for the single males. However, this is just one wing of the female serving quarters. There is one more farther down. As you noticed as we were walking here, Lord Sesshoumaru's castle is large, thus he needs a very large staff. Also, this doesn't count the servants that don't live here on this part of the grounds."
Liz could have sworn her eyes bugged out a bit before she hastily collected herself and tried to remember, where she was and with whom she was talking. She didn’t want anything bad to get back to him and it making her punishment longer, therefore making her stay here longer than necessary. So Liz said nothing as the two women walked into the room and over to a bed where Liz was to sleep.
“Wait! Before you go, what is your name? That way I can thank you for showing me the way here, I just hope that I am able to find my way back here on my own,” said Liz in a rush, feeling nervous at being in such a strange room. That and the fact that she was once again stuck in a dorm type room as if she was back at the orphanage once again.
The demoness stopped in surprise and turned back toward the redhead. “Sayuri, my name is Sayuri.” With that, the woman scurried out of the room to attend the rest of her duties leaving the stranger in the room staring at the door in which she disappeared.
Liz sat down finally after five minutes on the futon mattress after she realized that Sayuri wasn’t coming back anytime soon. She glanced at the wounds on her upper arm and winced. They weren’t bleeding anymore but the dried blood around the wound made the cuts look worse than they are. Standing back up, Liz went to the only wardrobe in the room and discovered several stacks of clothing and various other things such as towels and thin linen cloths. Taking one of the thin linens, she shut the wardrobe and searched for a basin and a carafe of cool water so she could clean her wounds and hope that an infection doesn’t set in.
*If only I could get to Susan’s backpack, then it won’t be a question of might be,* thought Liz as she cleaned the dry blood up from around the wounds. When she was finished with that, she stared in amazement at them. Each of the four wounds was in a neat straight line and each deep enough that the possibility of infection was great. Grimacing she walked over to the wardrobe to see if there was anything in there that would bind the wounds shut, such as scrap cloth and the like, but after searching the wardrobe she concluded that there wasn’t.
“Damn,” she whispered to herself as she contemplated ripping a few of the linen cloths but decided against it since she didn’t know if she would get into trouble or not. She knelt in front of the open wardrobe as she thought of what to do. So after debating ( and much praying ) left the marks uncovered and looked for a place to discard her impromptu swim outfit so she could change into something less revealing. Sighing she stood back up and picked up one of each item and a pair of the sandals and returned to her futon after a quick stop to the door to close it so no one was tempted to peek in on her.
Sighing heavily again, she shook out the underclothing that she had really no idea how to put on but did anyway. One item look like to be a small loincloth, it was just big enough to cover the essentials and looked like a thong in the back. She looked for a bra of sorts, gave up, just took a length of cloth from the swim outfit, and made it into one. She refused to go around with her breast bouncing everywhere. She took less than half of that cloth and re-wound it around herself. However before she did so, Liz once again tried to see it, the one thing that she did that was her own mark of shame. Thankfully, though she never could see it no matter how hard she twisted her head around. The only time she ever got a glimpse of it was when she tried clothes on in a department store. Grimacing she wound the cloth around her chest to keep everything tied down a bit and as she did that, she thought back on how she acquired her “mark of shame”.
---- Flashback 2 years ago ----
The room was a bit smoky as two beyond inebriated teens stumbled through the door of a reputable tattoo parlor two counties over from where they lived one Friday night. After all, the town’s goody-goody didn’t want it spread around that she was drunker than a skunk on Tuesday [A/N bottom] and was about to get a tattoo without consent from her legal guardian at the orphanage. However, as far as the woman that was going to do it was concerned the note she was handed was as legit as the money Liz and Susan handed over to pay for the small colored tattoo. Giggling drunkenly Liz followed the skinny leather clad woman and after being told, to lay face down on the massage table that been wheeled out for such tattoos.
After Liz lay down, the woman proceeded to open her clean set of tattoo needles and asked Liz in a hoarse voice that came after nearly thirty years of non-stop smoking, to pull up her shirt and to undo the bra strap in the back. This way she could begin her work. First the woman started by cleaning the area of skin that was going to be tattooed. When that had been finished, she then began the long process of plying her trade on the redhead's smooth back in between the shoulder blades. Luckily, the amount of alcohol she consumed numbed the pain to a bearable level and stayed that way through the entire process.
It wasn't until the next morning ( which was thankfully a Saturday ) came the realization of what she and Susan had done. One was that, they had just spent the night with a couple of friends and that they had gotten her drunk beyond all reason if the hangover she had now was any indication. That and the nagging pain in between her shoulder blades. After staggering to her feet and then to the toilet, where she got very sick, she decided to see if she could find the source of that pain. So then, looking into the mirror that stretched over the two sinks in their friends nicely appointed bathroom she twisted left, right, and back again. However she twisted she still was unable to see what was there. Sighing heavily, she was about to give up when she spotted a large hand mirror and positioned it to where she thought she felt the pain. What she found made her nearly scream the house down.
There, sitting innocently in the middle of her back was a fairly tiny, brightly colored Chinese dragon breathing fire. The dragon was wrapped around a sword that was about the length of a ballpoint pen, and from the sword were rays of light. It was as if it were driving back something with its brilliance and the dragon itself was there to protect the sword. As for the dragon itself? It was something to marvel at. The dragon was slender to the point of almost being emaciated, but it was obviously was not. The scales were of a shimmering blue/green with a hint of gold, and the under belly a silver/grey. The talons were barely discernible and as a result were black, but they were splayed as if ready to attack at any moment. Another prominent feature the dragons thin mustache as it flowed and curled away from the body. It was nearly as long as the dragon but stopped short an inch. The mouth was open and the eyes were shut as it breathed its deadly breath on its unseen foes. The fire was inked with bright reds, orange, yellows, and was blended to make it seem like it was real and would burn you should you dare touch it.
After running out of the bathroom she had thrown a fit, wouldn’t speak to either friend for a week after the incident, and made sure it was covered up and that her guardians at the home never saw that tattoo. However, that didn’t last very long and was found out later on when the woman that ran the place with her husband found it on her and made her explain how it got there.
From then on, she called it her mark of shame. She had let her guardian down and had lost her trust. It was a long time before they talked again.
---- End Flashback ----
Shaking her head violently to clear it of unpleasant memories, Liz continued dressing and wondered what she was going to do for the rest of the day since no one told her if she was supposed to be doing something.
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A/N: I want to apologize for the super long wait! But my beta reader said things looked good. ( I wonder how long it took just to do that! I could strangle him! ) And sorry for the awkward ending, consider it a cliffy! ^_^ I hope you are all looking forward to chapter 7! I am having so much fun writing this! Oh, and please, PLEASE REVIEW! I would love to hear your thoughts on this story. Well, until chapter 7 folks!
Editing notes - I was once asked why does Liz call the tattoo a mark of shame? Well, I finally put in a mini explanation as to why. Also, it wasn't until a year ago that I learned that no tattoo artist will ever do a tat on a drunk customer for a couple of reasons 1 - the customer might not like it and might be angry afterwards, 2 - Alcohol thins the blood a little and makes you more prone to bleeding which is something they want to avoid at all costs. I heard on Miami Ink ( I think it was anyway ) that the best thing to do was to take some Tylenol before coming in for your tattoo. Its to help with the pain. Let me know if that's wrong. I only heard it passing as I was changing the channel.
Misato-Katsuragi2 ( FF.net )aka SilverFox ( AFF.net )
Dictionary
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Ikeike – bitch
Jajauma - unmanageable woman, shrew, bitch (also means “restive horse”, but you can guess I’m not using that!)
Korcs – bastard, misbegotten, cur, mongrel ( Hungarian )
Sayuri - lily ( Japanese )
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A/N: Just some commentary for starters…
To my Aff.net readers: Hmmm, cute? Well, I wasn’t exactly aiming for cute, but I can live with it, but I soon hope to suck the cuteness right out of it…At least I hope I can suck it out…O.o! That sounded a bit bawdy!
To my FF.net readers: I hope that so far you have enjoyed this story so far. I know I have enjoyed writing this; my only sadness is that not many of you have reviewed it after reading it. That is ok; I just hope that you continue to come back for more.
Anyhoo! On with the story I say!
Chapter 6 – Liz's Punishment Begins!
----------------------------
As they rose through the air on the cloud, Liz leaned as far away as possible while Sesshoumaru kept a strong grip on her injured arm. This caused her to flinch ever so slightly. She didn’t want him to know that he was hurting her. Nope, she’d rather die, rather than let the control freak next to her know anything. He’d probably blame her for getting hurt in the first place. However, there was one important thing that had her fullest attention. It was the fact that they were flying through the air. She chalked it up to dreaming. *Yup,* thought Liz, *I’m dreaming all right. I’m still in the forest and this whole experience has been one big nightmare. One never-ending nightmare, I’m not here at all. I’m still lying against that log asleep in fog as thick as peanut butter and when I finally wake up, I am going to strangle Susan with her own underwear. Then I’m going to go home and take a nice relaxing, soothing bubble bath and then, go to work. Yup, that is what is happening, one giant nightmare.*
However, when the cloud started to descend, she started to panic even more. That wind felt awfully real, not to mention the feel of the child’s hand that was one of her hands. What also felt real was the feel of Sesshoumaru's hand wrapped around her upper arm in a punishing grip. It was sure to leave an ugly bruise as well as the little cuts on her arm that were already there. She fidgeted.
Sesshoumaru looked down at the girl next to him. He could smell the panic rolling off her in waves. He quirked an eyebrow and readjusted his grip on her arm. That is when he felt the slick feeling of blood in his hand. He looked at her and then again at her arm. This time he saw her flinching as he adjusted his grip. He looked down at her arm, it was then he noticed and realized just how tight he was holding her. It was as if he didn’t want to let go. He let go fast.
She sighed gratefully when he let go. Her arm was throbbing from the cuts and the tight hold he had on her. Shaking it a little bit to bring back the feeling in her arm, Liz gave attention the rapidly approaching ground. In the palace's courtyard there where twenty of the ugliest ~things~ she has ever seen. Perusing the gathering she shuddered as she saw one hack up a wad of phlegm and spit it out on the ground. It was gross. As soon as they landed Liz was about to make a quick escape to Rin’s room we a cool voice stopped her.
“Do not try to run woman. You have disobeyed an order. You will follow me.” With that, the tall lord swept by an irate Liz and a confused Rin. Liz, however, turned in the other direction intent on putting Rin in her room before going before the “firing squad”. She made it about three feet before a tall figure blocked her way with a scowl on his face. *Well, well, Mr. Iceberg does have emotions,* was Liz’s fleeting thought before she was dragged across the courtyard with Rin in tow. However before they went much farther Liz looked down at the small girl and said as she released her hand, “Go back to your room sweetie, I’ll be there later, ok?” That was all she could get out before she disappeared inside the sliding shoji doors. They shut with an ominous click.
---- Just inside the double doors ----
He was silent as he walked to his room dragging the infuriating female behind him. He could hear her gasping for breath, but he didn’t slow down one bit. He just kept on walking until he reached his room and by that time Liz was more than just gasping for breath, she was panting.
Opening the door, he roughly shoved her inside before him and as he stepped into the room swiftly shut the door closed behind him. They stared at each other. Liz rubbed her arm where he held it and never broke her gaze from his and he likewise didn’t. He wanted to let her know that he would never back down from the challenge in her gaze. He spoke first into the pregnant silence between them.
“You, wench, are in trouble. You disobeyed me several times, challenging my authority over you and this household. And for that, you will be punished most severely,” he said in a low voice with barely suppressed anger. She was able to do what most humans and demons ( excluding his half-brother, for he did that every time he saw the hanyou ) couldn’t do. And that was to make him angry beyond reason. He was dangerously close to that edge.Outrage was written all over the redheads face as he made his little speech, but before she could speak, he continued.
“So, therefore, you will no longer be kept as a guest, but as a servant. Yes, that would be a most fitting punishment for someone who constantly disobeys her betters. From now on you will be working with the housekeeping servants and three nights a week, until I let you go, you will help out in the kitchen and serving the meals to Rin.” With that pronouncement, he moved to toss her to the servant waiting outside the door, but she stopped him as she came to stand toe-to-toe to him.
“Where in the hell do you get off treating me like this,” asked Liz with open hostility.
“I-,” he opened his mouth to retort but didn’t get to finish as Liz butted in.
“I am a guest in your home. An unwilling one at that! As such, guests - no matter what the circumstances of their visit - are supposed to be treated with courtesy. You have been nothing but rude and demanding. Not to mention you've kept my property from me. It doesn't matter if its not technically mine or not. What's more, I couldn’t care less that you don’t like me. I will leave when I want. And speaking of leaving, I want to leave now.” By the time she was done, she was poking him in the chest with every other word with him growing even angrier by the second.
*Who does this bitch think she is,* thought an outraged Lord of the Western Lands. The air in the room was still, nothing moved. It was if the very air in the room was afraid to move less it incur the wrath of the demon lord. “Ikeike,” he hissed venomously before grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her against him not caring that he was hurting her with the large metal spikes that were on his armor. He was just very, very angry that she dare talk to him in such a manner. Not to mention poking him in the chest as she spoke. In a chillingly angry voice as he continued, “Do not ever speak to me in such a manner jajauma! I am Lord here, and my word is ~law~. If I so wanted, woman, I would order your head brought to me on a silver platter, if I so desired. I am being very generous to let you live, ningen.” He roughly shoved her away making her lose her balance. She couldn’t decide what to rub, her rear or her arm again.
“Korcs,” she hissed under her breath, as she stood up on slightly wobbly legs while clutching her right arm again, which was starting to bleed from all the abrupt movement. She winced and clenched her hand into a fist.
Sesshoumaru raised an eyebrow at the obvious curse, but didn’t say anything. He did however, drag her over to him once again, this time inspecting the wounds. They were not that deep, so he didn’t worry about it much; he pushed her arm away and turned back to open the door to his room when he sensed her moving around behind him. “What are you looking for, woman?”
“My friends backpack, I need some things out of there to take care of these wounds, Sir,” she said sarcastically while turning in the same spot trying to look for her pack. She wasn’t going to give him another excuse to rail at her.
“You do not need anything from it, you will be fine, just wrap clean linen around it to stem the flow of blood and keep the wounds themselves clean.” He never once looked back at her as he opened the door and motioned to whoever was out there and ignored the stomping foot behind him. He smirked. He spoke quickly and silently, and when that was done, he turned back towards Liz and with an imperious flick of his hand summoned her over to the doorway making sure to leave room between him and her, he was glad Rin wasn’t anything like this woman. He had enough to take care of in his household without the aggravation of instructing her on how to behave properly.
Sighing and trying not to roll her eyes, Liz walked past him without getting close, she was angry enough to spit nails and she wanted to stay as far away as possible so she wouldn’t be tempted to do something stupid like say, slap that arrogant look off his face? She was very tempted to just that. Moving past him she never looked back as the servant lead her away. She didn’t cower, cringe, or hang her head in shame because as far as she was concerned she didn’t do anything wrong. Clutching her arm as she rounded the corner, she vowed one way or another that she was going to leave this hellish place.
Sesshoumaru watched as the woman walked down the corridor they just came down twenty minutes before. Neither cringing, or cowering nor walking with her head lowered in shame, as she should have Sesshoumaru reluctantly admired her spirit. It was the kind of pride he could see in his own kind, more specifically, inu demons. *Such a waste,* thought Sesshoumaru briefly as he effectively pushed all thoughts of the troublesome woman behind him.
---- Other side of the palace ----
“I HAVE TO WHAT?” shouted Liz at the top of her lungs while staring incredulously at the young demoness who was standing in front of her wearing an expressionless face. *Like master like servant,* thought Liz briefly. Before digesting what she was just told.
The demoness that was escorting her to the servant’s quarters was of average height and wearing a beige obi with a slightly darker brown outer linen robe and a white under shirt. On her dainty feet are hand woven sandals of somewhat good quality. The woman's long black hair was tied neatly back in a low ponytail tied off with a scrap of white cloth. Looking the girl over once again, Liz deducted by the color scheme that is what servants wore and what she would be wearing as well until her punishment had ended.
“You have to wear what I am wearing,” said the female with a bland smile.
“You’ve got to be kidding me, right,” groaned Liz as if in agony.
Again, the servant shook her head in the negative, indicating that she wasn’t kidding in the least.
“Well, at least this outfit is more bearable than the ones that were in my wardrobe. Someone must be color blind or something,” said Liz resignedly as she once again started in the direction of the servants' wing.
It was a long and twisting route with many changes in directions so Liz had long ago stopped counting how many lefts and rights she had to take and where to take them and started to look over her surroundings. She was always able to remember a route better by landmarks, rather than by actual directions. She was looking around when suddenly an unusually large portrait came into view.
The portrait stood six inches above the floor to six inches from the ceiling on a wall that was at least ten feet in height. Making the painting roughly nine and half feet high by three feet wide. All it showed in the painting was the person’s upper chest area, shoulders and the head. The man appeared dressed in battle armor judging by the spikes on the shoulders and the tough looking breastplate.
The man in it looked just like Lord Sesshoumaru, but Liz could tell the man in the painting wasn’t the irate man she just left. It was of an older man by the looks of him, not to mention the man in the portrait's facial expression was a lot more welcoming than that of the man she just left. He also had similar markings on his cheeks but they appeared jagged as opposed to the smooth lines of Lord Sesshoumaru's cheek markings. The only thing she couldn’t tell was if he had a crescent moon on his forehead as the man’s bangs hid them from her view. She turned to the servant who stopped to look for her charge.
“Who is this man,” asked Liz as she continued to stare at the large portrait.
“That is Lord Sesshoumaru’s father, Lord Inutaisho; he passed away almost a century ago.” Sayuri said rather impatiently while restlessly shifting from foot to foot.
"Oh, ok. I thought there was something familiar between him and your boss."
With that, Liz and the quiet servant girl finally made their way to the far end corner of the palace. The place was huge and widespread, which made the trip over to the other side a lot longer. Turning one last corner, they came to the dormitory where the single females slept four to a room. Liz was a bit shocked as she recounted all the rooms she passed mentally. *One, two, three...six, seven...ten!* counted Liz wide-eyed as she turned to the girl next to her and asked with surprise lacing her voice, “Surely not all of these are occupied! There are ten rooms!”
Sayuri blinked a time or two before answering mildly, “Yes, all rooms are occupied and there are almost twice as many rooms for the single males. However, this is just one wing of the female serving quarters. There is one more farther down. As you noticed as we were walking here, Lord Sesshoumaru's castle is large, thus he needs a very large staff. Also, this doesn't count the servants that don't live here on this part of the grounds."
Liz could have sworn her eyes bugged out a bit before she hastily collected herself and tried to remember, where she was and with whom she was talking. She didn’t want anything bad to get back to him and it making her punishment longer, therefore making her stay here longer than necessary. So Liz said nothing as the two women walked into the room and over to a bed where Liz was to sleep.
“Wait! Before you go, what is your name? That way I can thank you for showing me the way here, I just hope that I am able to find my way back here on my own,” said Liz in a rush, feeling nervous at being in such a strange room. That and the fact that she was once again stuck in a dorm type room as if she was back at the orphanage once again.
The demoness stopped in surprise and turned back toward the redhead. “Sayuri, my name is Sayuri.” With that, the woman scurried out of the room to attend the rest of her duties leaving the stranger in the room staring at the door in which she disappeared.
Liz sat down finally after five minutes on the futon mattress after she realized that Sayuri wasn’t coming back anytime soon. She glanced at the wounds on her upper arm and winced. They weren’t bleeding anymore but the dried blood around the wound made the cuts look worse than they are. Standing back up, Liz went to the only wardrobe in the room and discovered several stacks of clothing and various other things such as towels and thin linen cloths. Taking one of the thin linens, she shut the wardrobe and searched for a basin and a carafe of cool water so she could clean her wounds and hope that an infection doesn’t set in.
*If only I could get to Susan’s backpack, then it won’t be a question of might be,* thought Liz as she cleaned the dry blood up from around the wounds. When she was finished with that, she stared in amazement at them. Each of the four wounds was in a neat straight line and each deep enough that the possibility of infection was great. Grimacing she walked over to the wardrobe to see if there was anything in there that would bind the wounds shut, such as scrap cloth and the like, but after searching the wardrobe she concluded that there wasn’t.
“Damn,” she whispered to herself as she contemplated ripping a few of the linen cloths but decided against it since she didn’t know if she would get into trouble or not. She knelt in front of the open wardrobe as she thought of what to do. So after debating ( and much praying ) left the marks uncovered and looked for a place to discard her impromptu swim outfit so she could change into something less revealing. Sighing she stood back up and picked up one of each item and a pair of the sandals and returned to her futon after a quick stop to the door to close it so no one was tempted to peek in on her.
Sighing heavily again, she shook out the underclothing that she had really no idea how to put on but did anyway. One item look like to be a small loincloth, it was just big enough to cover the essentials and looked like a thong in the back. She looked for a bra of sorts, gave up, just took a length of cloth from the swim outfit, and made it into one. She refused to go around with her breast bouncing everywhere. She took less than half of that cloth and re-wound it around herself. However before she did so, Liz once again tried to see it, the one thing that she did that was her own mark of shame. Thankfully, though she never could see it no matter how hard she twisted her head around. The only time she ever got a glimpse of it was when she tried clothes on in a department store. Grimacing she wound the cloth around her chest to keep everything tied down a bit and as she did that, she thought back on how she acquired her “mark of shame”.
---- Flashback 2 years ago ----
The room was a bit smoky as two beyond inebriated teens stumbled through the door of a reputable tattoo parlor two counties over from where they lived one Friday night. After all, the town’s goody-goody didn’t want it spread around that she was drunker than a skunk on Tuesday [A/N bottom] and was about to get a tattoo without consent from her legal guardian at the orphanage. However, as far as the woman that was going to do it was concerned the note she was handed was as legit as the money Liz and Susan handed over to pay for the small colored tattoo. Giggling drunkenly Liz followed the skinny leather clad woman and after being told, to lay face down on the massage table that been wheeled out for such tattoos.
After Liz lay down, the woman proceeded to open her clean set of tattoo needles and asked Liz in a hoarse voice that came after nearly thirty years of non-stop smoking, to pull up her shirt and to undo the bra strap in the back. This way she could begin her work. First the woman started by cleaning the area of skin that was going to be tattooed. When that had been finished, she then began the long process of plying her trade on the redhead's smooth back in between the shoulder blades. Luckily, the amount of alcohol she consumed numbed the pain to a bearable level and stayed that way through the entire process.
It wasn't until the next morning ( which was thankfully a Saturday ) came the realization of what she and Susan had done. One was that, they had just spent the night with a couple of friends and that they had gotten her drunk beyond all reason if the hangover she had now was any indication. That and the nagging pain in between her shoulder blades. After staggering to her feet and then to the toilet, where she got very sick, she decided to see if she could find the source of that pain. So then, looking into the mirror that stretched over the two sinks in their friends nicely appointed bathroom she twisted left, right, and back again. However she twisted she still was unable to see what was there. Sighing heavily, she was about to give up when she spotted a large hand mirror and positioned it to where she thought she felt the pain. What she found made her nearly scream the house down.
There, sitting innocently in the middle of her back was a fairly tiny, brightly colored Chinese dragon breathing fire. The dragon was wrapped around a sword that was about the length of a ballpoint pen, and from the sword were rays of light. It was as if it were driving back something with its brilliance and the dragon itself was there to protect the sword. As for the dragon itself? It was something to marvel at. The dragon was slender to the point of almost being emaciated, but it was obviously was not. The scales were of a shimmering blue/green with a hint of gold, and the under belly a silver/grey. The talons were barely discernible and as a result were black, but they were splayed as if ready to attack at any moment. Another prominent feature the dragons thin mustache as it flowed and curled away from the body. It was nearly as long as the dragon but stopped short an inch. The mouth was open and the eyes were shut as it breathed its deadly breath on its unseen foes. The fire was inked with bright reds, orange, yellows, and was blended to make it seem like it was real and would burn you should you dare touch it.
After running out of the bathroom she had thrown a fit, wouldn’t speak to either friend for a week after the incident, and made sure it was covered up and that her guardians at the home never saw that tattoo. However, that didn’t last very long and was found out later on when the woman that ran the place with her husband found it on her and made her explain how it got there.
From then on, she called it her mark of shame. She had let her guardian down and had lost her trust. It was a long time before they talked again.
---- End Flashback ----
Shaking her head violently to clear it of unpleasant memories, Liz continued dressing and wondered what she was going to do for the rest of the day since no one told her if she was supposed to be doing something.
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A/N: I want to apologize for the super long wait! But my beta reader said things looked good. ( I wonder how long it took just to do that! I could strangle him! ) And sorry for the awkward ending, consider it a cliffy! ^_^ I hope you are all looking forward to chapter 7! I am having so much fun writing this! Oh, and please, PLEASE REVIEW! I would love to hear your thoughts on this story. Well, until chapter 7 folks!
Editing notes - I was once asked why does Liz call the tattoo a mark of shame? Well, I finally put in a mini explanation as to why. Also, it wasn't until a year ago that I learned that no tattoo artist will ever do a tat on a drunk customer for a couple of reasons 1 - the customer might not like it and might be angry afterwards, 2 - Alcohol thins the blood a little and makes you more prone to bleeding which is something they want to avoid at all costs. I heard on Miami Ink ( I think it was anyway ) that the best thing to do was to take some Tylenol before coming in for your tattoo. Its to help with the pain. Let me know if that's wrong. I only heard it passing as I was changing the channel.
Misato-Katsuragi2 ( FF.net )aka SilverFox ( AFF.net )