knittingknots (knittingknots) wrote,
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Chapter 2, Granted Wish

Once in a while I write something that's too linked to another story to post it at FF.net as a stand alone. This happened to this story; didn't expect, when I wrote Granted Wish, that I would be taking it any further, so instead, Pink decided to extend it and make it an anchor point to the development of the TEA universe. Go figure.

(both chapters can be found here: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5451826/2/Granted_Wish




Granted Wish

Chapter 2


A piece of wood popped in the fire pit, cascading sparks. InuYasha’s ear flicked at the sound, but neither of the two on the floor nearby looked up. His eyes were like liquid amber, studying her face.

“Wife,” he whispered, then let his lips brush across hers. “Kagome wants to be InuYasha’s wife,” he said in an awed tone.

She nodded, not quite able to speak, and instead lifted up her hand to slide into his silver hair, her breath catching as his mouth moved to trace the contours of her neck. “InuYasha has wanted to be Kagome’s husband for so long,” he murmured against her warm skin. His mouth found hers again, desperately trying to pour all that she meant to him into that kiss. One arm wrapped under her neck, cradled her head; the other explored the length of her body with long, gentle strokes, eventually finding his way under the bottom hem of her blouse. She arched up to him as his hand explored the soft velvet of her back.

“InuYasha,” she murmured, letting her hands brush the neckline of his suikan, then slide around his neck.

Wrapping both arms around her, he lifted her up, kissing her one more time as they stood. “Time for bed,” he asked, his voice shaky, his eyes full of loving want.

Kagome nodded, and let herself be untangled from his arms as he walked across the small room, and grabbed the folded bedding, unrolling it not too far from the fire pit.

“You have a futon?” she asked, kneeling down next to where he was working, spreading the cover. Futons were not yet everyday furnishings. And they were expensive. She had spent more than one night sleeping on the floor in her earlier days in InuYasha’s time.

“Yeah,” he said a little sheepishly. “I haven’t used it much. I guess you could say it was a sign of me hoping you would be here to use it. I...I didn’t want you to have to sleep on the ground.” He blushed a little at the admission.

Her smile lit up her face as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m here,” she said. “Thank you.”

His eyes glittered in the firelight. “Yeah.” Rising to his knees, he pulled her up to him, kissing her deeply. “You really are here.”

His hands slid under her blouse, exploring the warm curves only somewhat hidden by the garment. Breaking the kiss, she took a deep breath, then pulled the garment up and over her head, then reached back and unfastened the clasp to her bra. He looked up, and she smiled shyly at him, nodding. His hands shook a little as he reached out and slid the straps down her arms and revealed her breasts with their rosy peaks.

“You are so beautiful,” he said. He pulled the garment all the way off, and laid it on top of her blouse.

Smiling gently at InuYasha, Kagome took one of his hands in hers, brought it to her breast and said, “You can touch, you know.”

For a moment, he stared at his hand, weighing the soft warmth of her breast in his hand. His thumb brushed across her nipple, and she gasped, closing her eyes for a moment. Suddenly, he crushed her to him, his mouth desperately seeking her lips, then trailing wet kisses down her neck. Her fingers sought the ties to his jacket. He pulled back when he realized what she was doing, and shrugged out of his suikan and kosode.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” she murmured, running her fingers over his golden skin. “To touch you without needing to bandage you.” Her hands slid from the tops of his shoulders, across the muscles of his arms, to trace the outline of his chest. He shivered at the touch, his eyes closing as she explored.

Kissing him on the cheek, Kagome stood up, unfastened the waistband of her skirt, and let it pool to the floor. He looked up into her eyes, warm and loving and wanton as the scent of her desire swirled around him. His hands reached up, tracing the outline of her waist and hips, and slipped into the waistband of her panties, and began to pull them down. She nodded to encourage him, then stepped carefully out of the garment as he wrapped an arm around her to support her as she stepped. The garments moved and added to the pile with the others, he rose up, letting his hands coast along the length of her legs and up to her waist. Her hands shyly went to the bow of his obi and loosened it while he wrapped his arms around her, taking her mouth in a deep, sensuous kiss. Lifting her up, he laid her on the futon, and made quick work of his hakama and fundoshi, then slipped into the bed next to her.

Slowly and gently, they explored each other’s bodies through touch and taste, the air filling with the music of gasps and moans and murmured words of love, growing ever closer to that moment when they would be one. Unknown to them, unseen by most eyes, the little house began to glow as youki and reiki began a dance of their own, weaving in and out, reflecting the union going on in their hearts and bodies.

This spiritual fireworks of red and pink light did not go unnoticed, though. Outside of the small house, light cascaded at the sacred tree as a long, shimmering form stepped out of the tree. Not very far away, another light form stepped out of the well. Diaphanous, and hard to spot for even those with spiritual gifts, they joined together and linked hands as they watched the light around the hut gather in intensity.

“You were right,” the kami from the well said. The figure, seemingly female, moved a bit closer, and let her sleeve of brilliant blue figured silk brush against the light. A cascade of sparks ensued.

“Well, I did hold him next to me for fifty years,” said the figure from the tree, seemingly male, dressed in resplendent russet and green.“It gave me a certain perspective.”

“I thought they might be too shy around each other,” the spirit of the well admitted. “They were always so circumspect around each other before.”

“That’s the hanyou’s sense of honor,” he said. “And perhaps it was because she was rather young. But you should have been able to feel his heart. Look how often he came and sat by you.”

“She did, too. That’s why I agreed, really, when you asked me to open the path.” She touched the light emitted from the house again, just briefly. The light around the house shuddered, changed ever so slightly as the red intensified, began to dominate the pink.

“I wouldn’t do too much of that if I were you,” said the tree spirit. “You don’t really want youki to overwhelm reiki; he doesn’t want to devour her soul.”

“No. But do you want her reiki to overwhelm his youki? He might get purified,” she said. “You know how he feels about being human.”

“Here, let me,” he said, and reaching out a hand, a sound like wind through leaves wrapped around the house. Slowly, the dance of color grew at once calmer and more expanded, settling down into a brilliant rose, perfectly balanced in color, dancing now only in time to their joining.

“You always had a defter hand than I,” said the spirit of the well.

“They deserve it,” the tree spirit said. “The heroes of that story have earned their happy ending.”

“How long will it last?” she asked.

“Oh, quite awhile, I suspect. Never bonded a hanyou and a miko before. But his youki and her reiki will work together, supporting each other. Maybe as long as I’m around.” He smiled at her.

“That, my dear one, is a long, long time,” she replied, smiling back.

Suddenly the light built into its largest crescendo yet. It was echoed by voices calling out from within the house. The light disappeared.

She sighed. “Well, it’s done.”

“And I suspect,” said the spirit of the tree, “Our part of their story is done as well.”

“Perhaps,” she said. “At least until her fifteenth birthday.”

“Ah, yes, the joy of paradox.” He let her hand go.

The night was suddenly calm and silent. With a last coy look at her friend, the spirit of the well dissolved and melted into a streak of light retreating to her place of slumber.

“Live well, children,” said the spirit of the tree, and a moment later, he too was gone.

But long into the night there was a gentle murmur in the leaves of the tree, a pleasant sound like a sigh of contentment after a job well done.



Tags: oneshot
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