#hey remember that time i wrote a vassal in for the sake of a rp and then accidently a character? me either ))

[cruxcrescent]

Lone Camellia.

“Never forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then, it can never be your weakness.” – George R.R. Martin

It was a misty morning that first brought her to him.

He was treading the lands as he always did, moving as if a ghost through the forests that he had called home then. She approached him from the fog that wove between the trees, though he had caught her scent long before she appeared. Witless and lanced through with the sweat of determination, the distinct twinge of someone looking for something. It made his nose wrinkle in disdain. 

When her verdant eyes settled on him, he had stopped while standing aloft the roots of a great tree. It provided the height from which he towered before her, not that he wasn’t already so tall. Yet, she had more height than he had expected for one so meager in figure. She’d dropped to her knees in deference to the Great Dog Prince, reducing herself from the gazelle-like stature she held.

“You are Lord Sesshoumaru, are you not?” she’d said simply, swallowing hard against her innate fear. Indeed, he conceded she was brave to approach him; he was sure her instincts were screaming out against her choice.

He didn’t answer her right away, golden eyes slanted downwards to appraise her through the morning mist, and darkness of the forest. She didn’t move, didn’t dare to raise her face to him again after she had taken her vulnerable position.

“What do you want with me?” he said curtly. 

“Please, o Lord of the Western Lands. I’ve sought you to train me,” she proclaimed, finally lifting her head to beseech him properly. He could now clearly see the green markings that stood shockingly vibrant against her tan skin. He’d already known what she was when her scent met him, but the gentle, light freckles that sprinkled their way over her shoulders and face identified her as a deer youkai. Strange that one should be this far in the mountains, he mused idly.

“What for and why should I?” 

She swallowed again. 

“My family has been slain by humans, my lord. Not one is left of them but me, and I wish to be powerful, like you,” she stopped to let herself grimace as if struck by the memory. “Please, I do not wish to die. I am tired of being weak.”

A low huff.

“That is none of my concern.” 

With that he’d sprung off the roots of the tree, sailing over her folded figure to land behind her. His landing barely shifted the moss beneath his feet. She’d frozen, as her kind were wont to do, and now did not turn to face him again. He’d started walking away, determined to move on in his patrol, when a vine caught his foot. That vine had not been there before, he’d thought, as he sliced it away without preamble. More of them started to manifest from the same spot to cling like the worried hands of children to his boot as if their kin had not just been cut down in its prime but seconds ago. 

He growled his disapproval as he turned to glower at the culprit, knowing well who was daring to show such disregard for their own life. The deer appeared more spirited now as her youki thrummed from her hands that were planted firmly to the ground in front of her, pulsing towards him. Defiance colored her expression. 

“I apologize, my lord,” she said as her energy waned off into the passive force it had been previously. “Please forgive my insolence, but I wish nothing more than to become strong! I know I have not fangs or claws – but there must be some way,” she grew quieter as she spoke, voice breaking as a shudder ran through her. Yes, it was as he’d thought earlier. Her instincts were wisely rebelling against her very unwise decisions. He continued to glare out of the side of his eyes at her. To his surprise, she spoke again as he assessed his next move.

“Are you not the protector of these lands? My lord, will you truly allow these humans to get away with the slaughter of other demons when our numbers dwindle so?” 

It was then that whatever small, fragile pity he had for her had worn out. He stalked forward to grab her by the collar of her furisode, anger flashing in his amber gaze. Hauling her up to face him, he dug his claws in the silk fabric of her clothing. Poison mingled at his claw tips, singeing the delicate material where it touched. The hind flinched away from his eyes, but not his grip. 

“Your clear lack of self-preservation proves that you serve no use to me,” he rumbled low in his throat before letting her go harshly. She caught herself, refusing to stumble before him it seemed. “The plight of lesser demons does not concern me. Do not question my honor as such.”

He turned on his heels away from her. He had grown tired of this meeting and its sole occupant. With long strides, he began back into the forest, hoping to leave the deer behind this time.

As he walked along, he scowled to himself. He turned over her words a few times in his mind, marveling on it like a small pebble. Her comment had rankled him. He was indeed the guardian of the Western Lands as his father had been before him, however, the times had changed. Humans encroached, and more and more their distaste of demons grew palpable. Their gunpowder burned his nose, their settlements stole his territory, their noisiness irritated his hearing. He had resigned himself to the fact that the burden of his duties that his father had passed to him had transformed itself into another beast that dug its claws deeper and deeper into his back as the decades passed.

He did not need reminding by a lowly doe of that which he was well aware.

He continued deeper into the trees, but he was aware he was being followed. Low anger simmered beneath the surface of his stoic appearance. The hind was light on her feet, well adapted to masking her youki, and was keeping downwind of him and his nose, but she could not escape his notice. At this point, he was determined to ignore her. She would falter eventually. All those that were not him always did with time.

However, he, for one of the rare few times in his life, had been mistaken.

The hind tracked him for days beyond their meeting. Days turned into weeks, then into months. She was intelligent enough to keep a fair amount of distance between them, but she dogged him as he patrolled what remained of his lands. She settled when he took up a temporary den, watched from on high when he hunted with hard, glassy eyes. He, in turn, was stubborn enough to pay her no heed. If she put this much effort into training instead of following him, she might have what she wished for, he mentally grumbled. The nights he could sense her slumbering aura in the surrounding wood, he contemplated slitting her throat in her sleep. 

A dusty corner of the dog’s mind offered him a blithe metaphor of the hunter becoming the hunted, that their roles were reversed in this game. It was not true, of course, and he could have, at any point, stopped her foolish mission. Yet, he allowed it. 

After all, it was not his time, nor his endurance being wasted.

When it had been fourteen turns of the moon’s cycle, he finally halted in the middle of his patrol. It was a quiet summer night, only cricket song broke the tense silence that it held. A breeze worried the long pampas grass in the field he’d chosen to at last confront his uninvited follower. Sesshoumaru drew in a soft breath of her scent, holding it before letting it go silently. He could hear the doe coming up behind him. She took no measures to conceal her presence this time. Even she seemed to understand that he was at the end of his very long patience with her. 

“Doe,” he said without turning to face her. The wind carried the bass of his voice along with it, causing her to stop but a scant few meters away from where he stood. “What do you call yourself?”

“Tsubaki. I am Tsubaki.” He could not see her, but he was certain the weariness was beginning to make itself noticeable. Her voice was hoarse with disuse but stronger than he thought it would be. The steady wind ruffled the fur that clung to his shoulder. A lengthy pause proceeded his next thoughts.

“Tsubaki, you have told me you possess neither fangs or claws,” he addressed her. He caught the shift of her furisode against itself as she adjusted her stance. 

“Yet, do you not possess hooves, nor antlers?” 

“I do, my lord.” Her breathing grew errant. She was anticipating a fight, or perhaps something more.

“If you truly grieve enough for what you have lost that you desire power, I suggest you sharpen them instead.”

The night grew still around them, silence resuming its oppressive pall that was broken only by soft chirps of the insects hidden amongst the grass. At the edge of his hearing, the doe’s pounding heart settled like the previous breeze had died away. He allowed his eyes to close for a brief moment.

“Continue to give chase, and I shall kill you,” he turned his head to pin her with amber hues. Green stared back at them, and the Moonlit Prince noted that a different gleam took the place of the one he had seen when they’d first encountered each other; this one he could not place. His gaze returned forward. 

He walked on.

This time, she didn’t follow.