Week #95 | Signal [Oneshot]
Title: Compel
Author: LuxKen27
Universe: Canon
Genre: Drama
Rating: T
Word Length: 1732
Summary: Sesshoumaru commissions Totosai to make a very special weapon.
Author’s Note: Part of the “Allegiance” series, a sequel to ‘ Emergence.’
The clang of metal ringing against metal filled the air as Sesshoumaru gazed down at his courtyard. He stood flush against one of the watchtowers, an expression of passive disinterest settling over his features as he watched his men drill below. One regiment of sword-wielding warriors went through their paces against another, moving in smooth, perfect sync by the bark of their general’s orders.
“My lord, are you certain you should be up here?” a worried tower guard murmured to him. “Do you not put yourself at great risk, exposing yourself to the enemy like this?”
Sesshoumaru patently ignored his question, folding his hands behind his back and leaning against the stone structure, allowing his eyes to slide to his right. There, a unit of archers was poised, forming two lines in front of a row of targets, switching off with military precision: one line would fire, step back, and reload, while the second stepped up in their place, insuring a constant barrage of arrows flying through the air.
He frowned as he inclined his head further, catching sight of Kagome, off to the side, practicing with her weaponry. She was standing quite alone, apart from the rest of his armed forces. He narrowed his eyes, studying the gap of space that separated her from the men. This will not do, he thought, the memory of their last battle ebbing at the back of his mind. He’d allowed her to lead the warriors in the least vulnerable flank, and she had been grievously injured in the attack. The cuts and bruises that still marred her skin weeks after the fact gave him reason to suspect that the enemy had not been the only ones to abuse her.
After they had pledged their allegiance, and she began to wear his scent, his men had left her alone. In some ways, this battle would test their mettle in more ways than one - now was the time to ferret out who among them were truly loyal to him and his family.
“Do you see that, my lord?” the guard asked in a hushed voice, drawing Sesshoumaru’s attention back to the present. “The holy soldiers have advanced.”
Sesshoumaru didn’t bother to turn around or even move from his current position, knowing full well he would lose the concealment of the tower if he did so. “They will be upon us by morning,” he predicted, his voice flat but his tone serious. “And we will be ready for them.”
These human holy soldiers, bolstered by their triumphs over the hanyou - including his half-brother - had set their sights back on the more elite class of youkai. They were not an enemy to be taken lightly; it had taken considerable power to bring down Inuyasha, after all…but they were still mere mortals. And they dared to advance upon his lands again?
Fools.
Had they not already stolen enough from him?
Rin…
Sesshoumaru’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. Attacking her had been a warning; killing Inuyasha had been another signal of their intent. Now Sesshoumaru himself was within their sights, and it was up to him. Perhaps these holy warriors were counting on him being able to feel regret, or remorse, or maybe even righteous anger in league with their own.
They always underestimated their youkai prey.
True to his father’s heritage, only ice flowed through his veins. If emotion played into it at all, it was only this:
Finally, he realized what was his to protect.
He would not allow himself make the same mistake twice.
A strangely familiar scent - with a note of charred flesh - wafted under his nose, drawing his attention to a bright star, which seemed to be growing closer with each passing second. Suddenly, his field of vision exploded with a bright, white, soundless light. When he opened his eyes again, he spotted a memorable old figure in the distance, dallying against one of the barren walls. Before his watchman could react, Sesshoumaru took off, leaving afterimages as he made for the open space on the opposite side of the walled courtyard.
“Totosai,” he acknowledged, landing lightly on his feet.
The old swordsmith looked up at him with wide, unblinking eyes. “You rang?”
“Have you finished the commission?” Sesshoumaru asked, ignoring the rude salutation.
Totosai began to dig into one sleeve of his kimono. “You don’t know what you ask of me,” he muttered, shifting through the cloth as though irritated. “The impossible, that’s what!”
The tiniest of smiles tugged at Sesshoumaru’s lips. “You don’t enjoy a challenge, old man?” he taunted lowly.
Totosai grunted, finally seizing upon the finished weapon and drawing it out into the open. “I always deliver what I promise!” he replied with a slight pout. “Even if it is practically impossible.”
Sesshoumaru eyed the small katana critically. “It took you five days to forge that?” he asked, sounding none too impressed with the old man’s efforts.
Totosai screwed his mouth into an outraged sneer. “When all you give me is an infused stone arrowhead - and you expect me to work miracles with it - !” he started, waving the small sword - no larger than a dagger - in the air. “Why, you ungrateful mongrel, what more do you want?!”
“I want what I asked for,” Sesshoumaru remarked in response. He grabbed Totosai’s wrist, stilling it in a second, and gazed thoughtfully at the still-sheathed weapon. “I suppose this will have to do, if it is all you can offer.”
The smith’s wrist went limp, signaling defeat, and Sesshoumaru withdrew the dagger from it, pulling the weapon from its sheath. It wasn’t much to look at - the blade was long and gray, though it glowed with a dull green hue; the hilt was solid, probably made of metal, covered in dark red tack for ease of grip. It had a nice, heavy weight for its size - thus, it should serve its purpose with relative ease.
“You know what I think?” Totosai suddenly volunteered as Sesshoumaru continued to examine his handiwork.
Sesshoumaru didn’t respond; he held the sheath in one hand and redoubled his grip on the hilt with the other, slicing the air between them in one smooth stroke.
“I think you greatly underestimate her,” Totosai barged on. “After all, she is your brother’s wife.”
“Was,” Sesshoumaru corrected, taking another swing.
The old smith must’ve been growing senile, for he deigned to grab Sesshoumaru’s wrist. “And this is how you show your respect for her?” he asked in a low, harsh voice. “Your father gave up his fang. Your brother gave up his fang.”
Sesshoumaru’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “You forget your place,” he murmured, not bothering to disguise the threat in his voice.
Totosai quickly released his hold when he felt the singe from the dokkasou that seeped out of the taiyoukai’s skin.
“This blade is weak, for it is made of stone,” the swordsmith reiterated. “You wouldn’t even give up clippings from your claws - the very source of the toxic flower poison - or some other living piece of your body. Is she not even worthy of that?”
Tension filled the silence between them. Totosai rolled the handle of his giant hammer over his shoulder, leaning forward to capture Sesshoumaru’s gaze with those wide, unblinking, all-seeing eyes. “Have you even claimed her as your mate, or do you still wallow in the past?”
Sesshoumaru drew the short sword to Totosai’s chest, the tip of it glittering as it grazed the old man’s kimono. “Just who do you think I am?” he muttered savagely, his youki stirring to life under the icy, calm exterior.
Totosai merely gazed back at him. “Right now, all I see is a little boy, one too afraid to stand up and truly claim what is his to protect.” He sighed, rolling his eyes heavenward. “Oh, the disappointment your father would feel, if only he could see you now…at least he had the guts to protect his woman.”
Sesshoumaru’s grip on the hilt tightened, his eyes narrowing into slits as he fought to control his reaction. You dare bring my father into this? he raged silently, unwanted memories of his childhood edging into the back of his mind.
“You think I don’t understand sacrifice?” he uttered through clenched teeth. Tenseiga rattled against his hip as his youki roared to life, urged on by the rush of emotions suddenly churning through his gut. “You think I don’t know what it means to love?”
Totosai glanced down, mild surprise lifting the slight brows that sat high on his forehead. “Actually, I guess you do,” he chuckled, pushing the drawn sword away from his chest with a single finger. The dagger’s blade glowed a deep, rich green, the dokkasou’s aura rising like wisps of steam all around it.
Sesshoumaru could only stare, watching as the blade greedily sucked in the power of the toxic poison dripping from his claws.
Totosai, you old son of a bitch…
“Now that’s a weapon worthy of a woman like Kagome,” the smith declared in a sage voice, struggling to hide his sense of triumph at having bested the relentless taiyoukai. “How very like you, to have to be pushed to the brink of action, before admitting the tiniest of emotion - ”
“I suggest you take your leave, before you push more than just your luck with me,” Sesshoumaru interrupted, abruptly sheathing the dagger and tucking it into his obi, alongside Bakusaiga and Tenseiga. His eyes glittered with cruel mirth when he looked up again. “Or perhaps you wish to play target practice with my archers?”
“Gotta go,” Totosai choked out, whistling for his ride and hopping up on his three-eyed ox. They disappeared in another flash of light, not willing to risk Sesshoumaru fulfilling his threats.
The taiyoukai lord turned, catching a glimpse of Kagome from the corner of his eye. His hand fell to the hilt of the little katana, and he sighed. Unbidden thoughts had bombarded his mind during Totosai’s little tirade, but Sesshoumaru dare not give them credence. So what if he hadn’t “claimed” Kagome? She still clung to her memories of Inuyasha…
And he…
Theirs was merely a business arrangement.
Yes.
Business.
The joining of two prominent forces. The expansion of an empire. The growth of wealth, measured both in terms of earthly possessions and karma.
That, alone, would have to be enough.
That, alone, made her worthy of his protection.
Author: LuxKen27
Universe: Canon
Genre: Drama
Rating: T
Word Length: 1732
Summary: Sesshoumaru commissions Totosai to make a very special weapon.
Author’s Note: Part of the “Allegiance” series, a sequel to ‘ Emergence.’
The clang of metal ringing against metal filled the air as Sesshoumaru gazed down at his courtyard. He stood flush against one of the watchtowers, an expression of passive disinterest settling over his features as he watched his men drill below. One regiment of sword-wielding warriors went through their paces against another, moving in smooth, perfect sync by the bark of their general’s orders.
“My lord, are you certain you should be up here?” a worried tower guard murmured to him. “Do you not put yourself at great risk, exposing yourself to the enemy like this?”
Sesshoumaru patently ignored his question, folding his hands behind his back and leaning against the stone structure, allowing his eyes to slide to his right. There, a unit of archers was poised, forming two lines in front of a row of targets, switching off with military precision: one line would fire, step back, and reload, while the second stepped up in their place, insuring a constant barrage of arrows flying through the air.
He frowned as he inclined his head further, catching sight of Kagome, off to the side, practicing with her weaponry. She was standing quite alone, apart from the rest of his armed forces. He narrowed his eyes, studying the gap of space that separated her from the men. This will not do, he thought, the memory of their last battle ebbing at the back of his mind. He’d allowed her to lead the warriors in the least vulnerable flank, and she had been grievously injured in the attack. The cuts and bruises that still marred her skin weeks after the fact gave him reason to suspect that the enemy had not been the only ones to abuse her.
After they had pledged their allegiance, and she began to wear his scent, his men had left her alone. In some ways, this battle would test their mettle in more ways than one - now was the time to ferret out who among them were truly loyal to him and his family.
“Do you see that, my lord?” the guard asked in a hushed voice, drawing Sesshoumaru’s attention back to the present. “The holy soldiers have advanced.”
Sesshoumaru didn’t bother to turn around or even move from his current position, knowing full well he would lose the concealment of the tower if he did so. “They will be upon us by morning,” he predicted, his voice flat but his tone serious. “And we will be ready for them.”
These human holy soldiers, bolstered by their triumphs over the hanyou - including his half-brother - had set their sights back on the more elite class of youkai. They were not an enemy to be taken lightly; it had taken considerable power to bring down Inuyasha, after all…but they were still mere mortals. And they dared to advance upon his lands again?
Fools.
Had they not already stolen enough from him?
Rin…
Sesshoumaru’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. Attacking her had been a warning; killing Inuyasha had been another signal of their intent. Now Sesshoumaru himself was within their sights, and it was up to him. Perhaps these holy warriors were counting on him being able to feel regret, or remorse, or maybe even righteous anger in league with their own.
They always underestimated their youkai prey.
True to his father’s heritage, only ice flowed through his veins. If emotion played into it at all, it was only this:
Finally, he realized what was his to protect.
He would not allow himself make the same mistake twice.
A strangely familiar scent - with a note of charred flesh - wafted under his nose, drawing his attention to a bright star, which seemed to be growing closer with each passing second. Suddenly, his field of vision exploded with a bright, white, soundless light. When he opened his eyes again, he spotted a memorable old figure in the distance, dallying against one of the barren walls. Before his watchman could react, Sesshoumaru took off, leaving afterimages as he made for the open space on the opposite side of the walled courtyard.
“Totosai,” he acknowledged, landing lightly on his feet.
The old swordsmith looked up at him with wide, unblinking eyes. “You rang?”
“Have you finished the commission?” Sesshoumaru asked, ignoring the rude salutation.
Totosai began to dig into one sleeve of his kimono. “You don’t know what you ask of me,” he muttered, shifting through the cloth as though irritated. “The impossible, that’s what!”
The tiniest of smiles tugged at Sesshoumaru’s lips. “You don’t enjoy a challenge, old man?” he taunted lowly.
Totosai grunted, finally seizing upon the finished weapon and drawing it out into the open. “I always deliver what I promise!” he replied with a slight pout. “Even if it is practically impossible.”
Sesshoumaru eyed the small katana critically. “It took you five days to forge that?” he asked, sounding none too impressed with the old man’s efforts.
Totosai screwed his mouth into an outraged sneer. “When all you give me is an infused stone arrowhead - and you expect me to work miracles with it - !” he started, waving the small sword - no larger than a dagger - in the air. “Why, you ungrateful mongrel, what more do you want?!”
“I want what I asked for,” Sesshoumaru remarked in response. He grabbed Totosai’s wrist, stilling it in a second, and gazed thoughtfully at the still-sheathed weapon. “I suppose this will have to do, if it is all you can offer.”
The smith’s wrist went limp, signaling defeat, and Sesshoumaru withdrew the dagger from it, pulling the weapon from its sheath. It wasn’t much to look at - the blade was long and gray, though it glowed with a dull green hue; the hilt was solid, probably made of metal, covered in dark red tack for ease of grip. It had a nice, heavy weight for its size - thus, it should serve its purpose with relative ease.
“You know what I think?” Totosai suddenly volunteered as Sesshoumaru continued to examine his handiwork.
Sesshoumaru didn’t respond; he held the sheath in one hand and redoubled his grip on the hilt with the other, slicing the air between them in one smooth stroke.
“I think you greatly underestimate her,” Totosai barged on. “After all, she is your brother’s wife.”
“Was,” Sesshoumaru corrected, taking another swing.
The old smith must’ve been growing senile, for he deigned to grab Sesshoumaru’s wrist. “And this is how you show your respect for her?” he asked in a low, harsh voice. “Your father gave up his fang. Your brother gave up his fang.”
Sesshoumaru’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “You forget your place,” he murmured, not bothering to disguise the threat in his voice.
Totosai quickly released his hold when he felt the singe from the dokkasou that seeped out of the taiyoukai’s skin.
“This blade is weak, for it is made of stone,” the swordsmith reiterated. “You wouldn’t even give up clippings from your claws - the very source of the toxic flower poison - or some other living piece of your body. Is she not even worthy of that?”
Tension filled the silence between them. Totosai rolled the handle of his giant hammer over his shoulder, leaning forward to capture Sesshoumaru’s gaze with those wide, unblinking, all-seeing eyes. “Have you even claimed her as your mate, or do you still wallow in the past?”
Sesshoumaru drew the short sword to Totosai’s chest, the tip of it glittering as it grazed the old man’s kimono. “Just who do you think I am?” he muttered savagely, his youki stirring to life under the icy, calm exterior.
Totosai merely gazed back at him. “Right now, all I see is a little boy, one too afraid to stand up and truly claim what is his to protect.” He sighed, rolling his eyes heavenward. “Oh, the disappointment your father would feel, if only he could see you now…at least he had the guts to protect his woman.”
Sesshoumaru’s grip on the hilt tightened, his eyes narrowing into slits as he fought to control his reaction. You dare bring my father into this? he raged silently, unwanted memories of his childhood edging into the back of his mind.
“You think I don’t understand sacrifice?” he uttered through clenched teeth. Tenseiga rattled against his hip as his youki roared to life, urged on by the rush of emotions suddenly churning through his gut. “You think I don’t know what it means to love?”
Totosai glanced down, mild surprise lifting the slight brows that sat high on his forehead. “Actually, I guess you do,” he chuckled, pushing the drawn sword away from his chest with a single finger. The dagger’s blade glowed a deep, rich green, the dokkasou’s aura rising like wisps of steam all around it.
Sesshoumaru could only stare, watching as the blade greedily sucked in the power of the toxic poison dripping from his claws.
Totosai, you old son of a bitch…
“Now that’s a weapon worthy of a woman like Kagome,” the smith declared in a sage voice, struggling to hide his sense of triumph at having bested the relentless taiyoukai. “How very like you, to have to be pushed to the brink of action, before admitting the tiniest of emotion - ”
“I suggest you take your leave, before you push more than just your luck with me,” Sesshoumaru interrupted, abruptly sheathing the dagger and tucking it into his obi, alongside Bakusaiga and Tenseiga. His eyes glittered with cruel mirth when he looked up again. “Or perhaps you wish to play target practice with my archers?”
“Gotta go,” Totosai choked out, whistling for his ride and hopping up on his three-eyed ox. They disappeared in another flash of light, not willing to risk Sesshoumaru fulfilling his threats.
The taiyoukai lord turned, catching a glimpse of Kagome from the corner of his eye. His hand fell to the hilt of the little katana, and he sighed. Unbidden thoughts had bombarded his mind during Totosai’s little tirade, but Sesshoumaru dare not give them credence. So what if he hadn’t “claimed” Kagome? She still clung to her memories of Inuyasha…
And he…
Theirs was merely a business arrangement.
Yes.
Business.
The joining of two prominent forces. The expansion of an empire. The growth of wealth, measured both in terms of earthly possessions and karma.
That, alone, would have to be enough.
That, alone, made her worthy of his protection.