InuYasha: Sesshoumaru/Kagome, Passion
Title: Frailty
Author: astarvingwriter
Theme: Stages of Love: Passion
Fandom: Inuyasha
Pairing: Sesshoumaru/Kagome
Rating: Any Age
Author's Plea: I've been in the middle of moving. Please excuse the delay. Will post Intimacy in a second.
Frailty
Standard Disclaimer Applies
She is not a warrior. A miko she may be, but her place is not in battle. She will never be strong enough to survive against someone of his caliber, should such a being exist.
And yet that angry fire burning in her eyes as she pulls back her bowstring... it’s enough to make the warrior part of him sing with excitement. It has been long since he has felt this invigorated due to battle. He admits silently that he appreciates the change.
He saves her two, three, four times before he stops counting. Once he admitted his interest, he admitted her worthiness. It no longer matters how weak she is so long as she does not submit to those who would harm her. So long as she submits to no one but himself.
When all have been killed and her companions are breathing a sigh of relief, it is she who spots the final assassin, and it is her arrow which purifies the being out of existence. The harshness of her eyes, the depth of her satisfaction tinged with that fragment of sorrow... it is enough to make him push any remaining doubts away. When he approaches her and takes but a second to crush her against him and demand his own satisfaction, he knows the position is uncomfortable for her, knows his armor is hurting her.
And when she responds regardless of her own frailty, he knows she is exactly what he needs even if she has nothing he wants.
Author: astarvingwriter
Theme: Stages of Love: Passion
Fandom: Inuyasha
Pairing: Sesshoumaru/Kagome
Rating: Any Age
Author's Plea: I've been in the middle of moving. Please excuse the delay. Will post Intimacy in a second.
Frailty
Standard Disclaimer Applies
She is not a warrior. A miko she may be, but her place is not in battle. She will never be strong enough to survive against someone of his caliber, should such a being exist.
And yet that angry fire burning in her eyes as she pulls back her bowstring... it’s enough to make the warrior part of him sing with excitement. It has been long since he has felt this invigorated due to battle. He admits silently that he appreciates the change.
He saves her two, three, four times before he stops counting. Once he admitted his interest, he admitted her worthiness. It no longer matters how weak she is so long as she does not submit to those who would harm her. So long as she submits to no one but himself.
When all have been killed and her companions are breathing a sigh of relief, it is she who spots the final assassin, and it is her arrow which purifies the being out of existence. The harshness of her eyes, the depth of her satisfaction tinged with that fragment of sorrow... it is enough to make him push any remaining doubts away. When he approaches her and takes but a second to crush her against him and demand his own satisfaction, he knows the position is uncomfortable for her, knows his armor is hurting her.
And when she responds regardless of her own frailty, he knows she is exactly what he needs even if she has nothing he wants.