At Your Command, Sesshomaru-sama
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InuYasha › Het - Male/Female › Sesshōmaru/Rin
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
5,256
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
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Currently Reading:
0
Category:
InuYasha › Het - Male/Female › Sesshōmaru/Rin
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
5,256
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story.
At Your Command, Sesshomaru-sama
© Salome Wilde, 2008
At Your Command, Sesshomaru-sama
Chapter 1
Rin sat at the fire, warming her hands. It was late, but she was not tired. She wore a furred cloak that Sesshomaru had given her to keep her warm, and she treasured it. It was made from the hide of a silver-gray wolf, and she loved that it made her look so grown up and, perhaps, just a little ferocious. Jaken was already asleep, and Sesshomaru was off somewhere unknown, as happened so often as to have become unremarkable.
The wind was cold but not strong, and Rin felt spring would soon be in the air. She sighed. The seasons had changed from summer to winter since Lord Sesshomaru had suffered the injury of a poisoned arrow in his arm and summoned Rin to remove and tend it. She had sucked the toxic milky fluid from him and sped his healing process. Then, he had allowed her to do more; he had let her bring her lips to his and to gratify him in even more intimate ways. He had even stroked the long, black silk of her hair before allowing her to sleep beside him that night. She had never felt closer to him, never felt more alive. And the memory did not fade as the months passed without a similar encounter.
Instead, the images of that night blossomed and grew in her mind, and the aching between her lithe and lean-muscled legs grew, too. She was a woman now, with a woman’s body and a woman’s desires. She had not grown fearful when the moon-cycled bleeding had begun: she remembered enough from hearing the village girls speak of it when she was a child to know it was normal. Of course, she had to take upon herself the task of figuring out how best to staunch the flow and to keep any hint of its presence from Jaken and Sesshomaru, lest they find her “dirty” and send her away each time it returned. But they had either not noticed or not cared, as they never said anything about the occasional extra washing she had to do, nor did they comment when she would seek out medicinal herbs that she learned (thanks to a kind serving woman in a friendly village) would help ease the pains she felt the first day of each cycle’s course.
She continued to train in the use of a fighting staff and in tracking and stealth, working hard to become a valuable scout for her master—should there occur one of those rare occasions when he actually had need of one. And she continued to worship him from every possible proximity and position, whether he was battling some minor demon who dared to cross his path, interrogating some wretch who foolishly withheld information he sought, or intimidating some pitiful villagefolk who made vain threats to his freedom. She watched him in battle and at rest, walking proudly or sailing through the air, ending lives with Tokijin or reanimating them with Tenseiga. Against green hills or the glistening of snowflakes, the world was colored by and filled with Sesshomaru for Rin, and her childish hero worship had become full-blown romantic love over the past half year. With love came that ache in her heart and at her core, an ache that she knew no way to assuage.
Rin realized that her feelings for Sesshomaru did not and would not alter his treatment of her. Like Jaken, she was permitted to travel with her master, and, in fact, she was sometimes treated even better, most likely because she was human and a girl. She hated that last. Though mortal and hence less resilient than Jaken or even other lesser yokai or hanyo, she hated that both Sesshomaru and Jaken seemed to think her gender was as important a factor as her humanity. How she wished she was yokai like them. There were plenty of female demons who could hold their own in battle. Unless Lord Sesshomaru decided to fight them, of course. She grinned, catlike, at the thought of being, herself, the offspring of a wolf demon, and she wrapped the wolfskin cloak tightly around her. Would he be more attracted by her if they could battle first? Her smile vanished quickly, for she realized that then she would then be hanyo, and there was nothing Sesshomaru seemed to detest more than hanyo.
No, it was better that she was human, even though Lord Sesshomaru had no use for most humans…which brought Priestess Kikyo to mind. Could she truly be considered human? When asked, Jaken had long ago explained what he knew of the Priestess: that she had been raised from the dead, that she was no longer in her own human body, that she “lived” through possession of the souls of other humans who had died, and that she had been roaming the countryside this way for about as long as Rin had been traveling with Sesshomaru. There was a time when she, like Sesshomaru, had wanted Inuyasha dead. It seemed the two had actually been lovers at one time. But now, she no longer sought Inuyasha out, instead confining her life to the duties befitting a common Priestess. Rin had seen her several times when young, but only from a distance. Sesshomaru had always insisted she stay back, and safe. She could sense Kikyo meant her no harm: Did she not have a younger sister who had now grown old? Did she not heal sick humans, especially children? But Rin would never question Sesshomaru, who had always kept her well and could, of course, easily defeat this reborn, soul-stealing Priestess. Or so she had thought, until Jaken had told her the truth about that poisoned arrow of two seasons’ past.
Rin’s curiosity about Kikyo, she knew now, was misplaced, impossible. No matter her elegance and skill with the bow. No matter the sadness in her eyes that matched Rin’s because she, too, had known so much suffering and death—she had even been resurrected herself. No matter that she too loved a child of The Great Dog Demon. These similarities (and Rin’s lack of access to any female companionship) had helped her to convince herself that Kikyo had something to teach her. Certainly nothing as important as Sesshomaru or Jaken provided, but something about being a woman—a woman alone in a man’s world. The guilt of even admitting to herself these thoughts about Kikyo was tremendous. She would never betray Sesshomaru. Yet, youthful fascination had grown into adult curiosity, and Rin longed to meet her, and talk to her. But no more! Knowing Kikyo had been the one to shoot her beloved master, she had to forswear her company! How could she feel anything but loathing for the woman? In fact, she thought, as the flames crackled before her, how could she do less than avenge Sesshomaru?
Sesshomaru, as was his custom, had said nothing about the arrow after that night. She had not learned from his lips how he had received the wound, who or where he fought, or how he planned to retaliate. In truth, it seemed he did not plan to retaliate. Without doubt, he did not fear his attacker. But now that she knew it was Kikyo she wondered. What had inspired the Priestess to fire upon him? Was the poison specifically made to harm Sesshomaru? Would she strike again?
Rin pondered, head cocked to the side as she stared up at the night sky. She could answer some of her own questions, to be sure. It had been months since the injury with no repeat incident. Moreover, Kikyo had not confronted them. If Sesshomaru had wanted vengeance, he would have taken it by now. Even if she could not die, the Priestess would have been somehow eliminated. And there was no such news from Jaken. When he told her of the source who brought about their master’s wound, it was in hushed tones, and with the suggestion that she was still a potential threat, and living in the village just across the river. Suddenly it came to Rin: surely Sesshomaru was even now seeking Kikyo out! He would surely defeat her, but another poisoned arrow might strike him first! And here she was, sitting at a fire with Jaken snoring loudly beside her. What a fool she was not to have considered it until now!
The confusion that had filled Rin’s mind about her desire for Sesshomaru alongside her fascination with Kikyo was gone in an instant. She rose quickly and silently, grabbed her staff and stuck a knife in her deerhide boot. She would cross the river and find Kikyo out herself. She would stab her in her sleep or she would stand between her and Lord Sesshomaru, and it would be she who would take the arrow and die, if anyone must. She was determined.
At Your Command, Sesshomaru-sama
Chapter 1
Rin sat at the fire, warming her hands. It was late, but she was not tired. She wore a furred cloak that Sesshomaru had given her to keep her warm, and she treasured it. It was made from the hide of a silver-gray wolf, and she loved that it made her look so grown up and, perhaps, just a little ferocious. Jaken was already asleep, and Sesshomaru was off somewhere unknown, as happened so often as to have become unremarkable.
The wind was cold but not strong, and Rin felt spring would soon be in the air. She sighed. The seasons had changed from summer to winter since Lord Sesshomaru had suffered the injury of a poisoned arrow in his arm and summoned Rin to remove and tend it. She had sucked the toxic milky fluid from him and sped his healing process. Then, he had allowed her to do more; he had let her bring her lips to his and to gratify him in even more intimate ways. He had even stroked the long, black silk of her hair before allowing her to sleep beside him that night. She had never felt closer to him, never felt more alive. And the memory did not fade as the months passed without a similar encounter.
Instead, the images of that night blossomed and grew in her mind, and the aching between her lithe and lean-muscled legs grew, too. She was a woman now, with a woman’s body and a woman’s desires. She had not grown fearful when the moon-cycled bleeding had begun: she remembered enough from hearing the village girls speak of it when she was a child to know it was normal. Of course, she had to take upon herself the task of figuring out how best to staunch the flow and to keep any hint of its presence from Jaken and Sesshomaru, lest they find her “dirty” and send her away each time it returned. But they had either not noticed or not cared, as they never said anything about the occasional extra washing she had to do, nor did they comment when she would seek out medicinal herbs that she learned (thanks to a kind serving woman in a friendly village) would help ease the pains she felt the first day of each cycle’s course.
She continued to train in the use of a fighting staff and in tracking and stealth, working hard to become a valuable scout for her master—should there occur one of those rare occasions when he actually had need of one. And she continued to worship him from every possible proximity and position, whether he was battling some minor demon who dared to cross his path, interrogating some wretch who foolishly withheld information he sought, or intimidating some pitiful villagefolk who made vain threats to his freedom. She watched him in battle and at rest, walking proudly or sailing through the air, ending lives with Tokijin or reanimating them with Tenseiga. Against green hills or the glistening of snowflakes, the world was colored by and filled with Sesshomaru for Rin, and her childish hero worship had become full-blown romantic love over the past half year. With love came that ache in her heart and at her core, an ache that she knew no way to assuage.
Rin realized that her feelings for Sesshomaru did not and would not alter his treatment of her. Like Jaken, she was permitted to travel with her master, and, in fact, she was sometimes treated even better, most likely because she was human and a girl. She hated that last. Though mortal and hence less resilient than Jaken or even other lesser yokai or hanyo, she hated that both Sesshomaru and Jaken seemed to think her gender was as important a factor as her humanity. How she wished she was yokai like them. There were plenty of female demons who could hold their own in battle. Unless Lord Sesshomaru decided to fight them, of course. She grinned, catlike, at the thought of being, herself, the offspring of a wolf demon, and she wrapped the wolfskin cloak tightly around her. Would he be more attracted by her if they could battle first? Her smile vanished quickly, for she realized that then she would then be hanyo, and there was nothing Sesshomaru seemed to detest more than hanyo.
No, it was better that she was human, even though Lord Sesshomaru had no use for most humans…which brought Priestess Kikyo to mind. Could she truly be considered human? When asked, Jaken had long ago explained what he knew of the Priestess: that she had been raised from the dead, that she was no longer in her own human body, that she “lived” through possession of the souls of other humans who had died, and that she had been roaming the countryside this way for about as long as Rin had been traveling with Sesshomaru. There was a time when she, like Sesshomaru, had wanted Inuyasha dead. It seemed the two had actually been lovers at one time. But now, she no longer sought Inuyasha out, instead confining her life to the duties befitting a common Priestess. Rin had seen her several times when young, but only from a distance. Sesshomaru had always insisted she stay back, and safe. She could sense Kikyo meant her no harm: Did she not have a younger sister who had now grown old? Did she not heal sick humans, especially children? But Rin would never question Sesshomaru, who had always kept her well and could, of course, easily defeat this reborn, soul-stealing Priestess. Or so she had thought, until Jaken had told her the truth about that poisoned arrow of two seasons’ past.
Rin’s curiosity about Kikyo, she knew now, was misplaced, impossible. No matter her elegance and skill with the bow. No matter the sadness in her eyes that matched Rin’s because she, too, had known so much suffering and death—she had even been resurrected herself. No matter that she too loved a child of The Great Dog Demon. These similarities (and Rin’s lack of access to any female companionship) had helped her to convince herself that Kikyo had something to teach her. Certainly nothing as important as Sesshomaru or Jaken provided, but something about being a woman—a woman alone in a man’s world. The guilt of even admitting to herself these thoughts about Kikyo was tremendous. She would never betray Sesshomaru. Yet, youthful fascination had grown into adult curiosity, and Rin longed to meet her, and talk to her. But no more! Knowing Kikyo had been the one to shoot her beloved master, she had to forswear her company! How could she feel anything but loathing for the woman? In fact, she thought, as the flames crackled before her, how could she do less than avenge Sesshomaru?
Sesshomaru, as was his custom, had said nothing about the arrow after that night. She had not learned from his lips how he had received the wound, who or where he fought, or how he planned to retaliate. In truth, it seemed he did not plan to retaliate. Without doubt, he did not fear his attacker. But now that she knew it was Kikyo she wondered. What had inspired the Priestess to fire upon him? Was the poison specifically made to harm Sesshomaru? Would she strike again?
Rin pondered, head cocked to the side as she stared up at the night sky. She could answer some of her own questions, to be sure. It had been months since the injury with no repeat incident. Moreover, Kikyo had not confronted them. If Sesshomaru had wanted vengeance, he would have taken it by now. Even if she could not die, the Priestess would have been somehow eliminated. And there was no such news from Jaken. When he told her of the source who brought about their master’s wound, it was in hushed tones, and with the suggestion that she was still a potential threat, and living in the village just across the river. Suddenly it came to Rin: surely Sesshomaru was even now seeking Kikyo out! He would surely defeat her, but another poisoned arrow might strike him first! And here she was, sitting at a fire with Jaken snoring loudly beside her. What a fool she was not to have considered it until now!
The confusion that had filled Rin’s mind about her desire for Sesshomaru alongside her fascination with Kikyo was gone in an instant. She rose quickly and silently, grabbed her staff and stuck a knife in her deerhide boot. She would cross the river and find Kikyo out herself. She would stab her in her sleep or she would stand between her and Lord Sesshomaru, and it would be she who would take the arrow and die, if anyone must. She was determined.