Salome 09/08

Night of Reunion

Warnings: Really, really WAFFy. Written for iyhedonism's WAFF prompt. 500 word limit, so that's why it's so short!
Author's Note: For NastyGakusei (aka Pseudohanyou), the hottest SessRin shipper I know.

After he left me, I spent years pretending to be a village girl, one who had not been scorned, assaulted unto death, and resurrected by a god. Living with Kaede-baa-chan, I grew beyond skipping through fields and collecting flowers to reading, writing, healing arts, and combat. My body lengthened and my skills grew. But I was never a village girl. Everything was for him. I trained furiously while feigning comfort, and Kaede smiled and dismissed the significance of his increasingly suggestive gifts. Simple kimonos became ornately embroidered hakama; plain sandals became slippers that matched his own. When the fighting staff appeared, replete with his unmistakable scent and a furred decoration unquestionably made from his pelt, Kaede and I both stopped pretending. I was of age and at last had all I needed to travel at his side.

Five restless nights later, he came for me. Darkness could not dampen the glow in his commanding eyes. He stood in the doorway, as graceful and magnificent as I had remembered him, had seen him in a thousand dreams. "Rin," he beckoned, and I answered. Still in my sleeping gown, I grabbed my staff and the tied bundle of garments beside the door. "My Lord Sesshoumaru," I whispered as he took me in his arms and vaulted into the air. If Kaede awakened, she showed no sign of it.

As we soared above the village, a single claw easily rent my garment from throat to ankle, and the wind laid me bare before him. A growl resonated in his chest as he brought his full lips to my throat. My head fell back and gave him reign. His tongue lapped and his teeth scraped. I shivered in his tight grasp. A warm, suckling mouth paid tribute to my round breasts and sensitive nipples, and I whimpered as his hand slipped between my thighs to stroke the plump flesh beneath curling hair and to sample the pooling wetness his touch elicited.

I cannot say how long we flew, transported in body and spirit, before we landed on a broad ledge—perhaps the overlook where I envisioned him keeping watch for the decade of my banishment. He lay me down on soft earth and brought his impossibly beautiful body over mine. His gaze was impassive as his hair flowed over us and his fur enwrapped us. As I watched, he unbound his sun-yellow obi and parted his hakama. I spread myself wide, slow tears of need falling from my eyes. Poising to enter me, he said my name once more, and then he impaled and claimed me, our bodies made to match our souls, entwined from the day his sword resurrected me and made me eternally his.

And eternally is indeed the truth, I can say as I remember those lonely years and that night of reunion that ended it. Hundreds of years hence, I know the full truth: Tenseiga's strike bonded me to my beautiful god not only in devotion but in lifespan.