Notes: This story is a sequel to my earlier tale, Written in the Stars. I have done my best to make this a stand-alone tale, but it may help to read the previous installment first. Thanks are owed to the LiveJournal community BigBangBuffet for providing the prompt and deadline, and to my friends for supporting me in the writing of this story.

Stargazers

Life had changed in the Taijiya village since the monk Miroku came to live there. Sango had not really expected him to stay, but the seasons had come nearly full circle and he was still with them. She had known, or rather had been made to understand, she thought with a hint of amusement, that he had taken a great deal of interest in her. She had not been foolish enough to think that a passing fascination would be enough to make him stay.

But he had stayed, and done more besides.

And now, as a result of the latest long-awaited development, Sango's thoughts were scattering in a dozen different directions at once. Some were fearful, others heady. In the light of a late summer sunset, she closed her eyes and breathed deep, inhaling the scent of sweet incense; her head bowed in prayer and she struggled to still her racing thoughts and focus on where she was. Mother's grave.

She had come here often enough before to seek guidance. She came now with a confession.

We're to be married, he and I.

Her heart went all aflutter just to think it, but the world around her remained serene and still. Finally, she had to chide herself. The last time she had come here alone, she had felt something. It had been nothing but a memory of her mother's laughter, but it had meant so much more. And she had expected, like a child, that something similar might happen today.

A few moments later, she roused herself and headed back to the village. It was a short walk. The graveyard was not far from the village proper, and Mother's grave was among the closest to the town. She'd been buried under a tree, a rarity this high in the mountains, that had always been her favorite; the villagers let long grass and wildflowers grow atop her plot, because she had loved plants. And although Sango's strange mood did not dissipate as she returned to the village, she carried the scent of warm, wet earth with her. It was somehow comforting.

She was halfway home when Kohaku intercepted her. He was carrying a bundle that she recognized belatedly as one of the finer kosode in her wardrobe and all the trappings that went with it. "There are important guests in the village," her brother said, his voice tinged with uncharacteristic nervousness. "Father says you're to get cleaned up and come right away."

Sango nodded and accepted the bundle. "Okay. Thanks, Kohaku."

She changed course and headed for the bathhouse instead. It had been a long day, and a quick wash and a change of clothes would be just the thing to make her presentable for these guests, whoever they were. It had to be a delegation from somewhere - or someone - important to warrant such formality, she was sure of that.

A weird, shivery sensation went up her spine; when she glanced back over her shoulder, Kohaku was still standing where she had left him, watching her progress. Strange.

She was in luck: the bathhouse was empty. Inside it was dark and damp and warm. Given the opportunity, Sango would not have minded lingering there... but she guessed Father would be displeased if she tarried too long while guests were waiting. She bathed quickly, forgoing a soak in her favorite feature of the bathhouse - the enormous sunken soaking tub - and was halfway dressed when the door opened and someone stumbled in.

She half-turned to see who it was, then started with surprise. "Houshi-sama!"

He had fallen to his knees, his hands bound behind him. She was at his side in an instant. "Miroku, what happened?"

"I'm told I ought to make amends."

"Amends?"

"For interrupting your teaching session yesterday."

Sango sighed. Idiots. Her village was full of idiots. "So they tied you up and threw you in here with me? What do they think I'm going to do, drown you?"

"I think the plan was for you to take advantage of me," Miroku answered with a leer. Annoyed, Sango shook her head and knelt to untie him. She had just finished and was contemplating scolding him for letting his friends talk him into doing stupid things (again) when she heard footsteps approaching outside. Miroku heard, too, and dove behind a partitioning screen, leaving Sango holding a conspicuous length of rope, which, panicking slightly, she tossed into the soaking tub behind her.

The door-mat twitched to the side and Father stuck his head in. He did not look pleased at all. "Sango."

She inclined her head slightly, making sure her robe was presentable and not gaping open. "Yes, Father?"

"Come with me. You're needed at the house." His voice was rumbly and impatient, almost angry.

"Yes, Father," she murmured obediently, nodding her head politely and keeping her eyes downcast. If Sango had been a few years younger or carried less esteem within the village, she might have felt like a dog slinking home with its tail between its legs. Instead, she felt a pang of worry. Worry for Father, and the village... and a little bit for herself.

Father withdrew, letting the door-mat flap back into place. Sango did not even spare a glance for Miroku's hiding place, hurrying instead to make herself presentable so she could follow after her father. She had no doubt he would wait for her outside to ensure her cooperation, and the last thing she wanted right now was to make him more annoyed with her.

"Okay," she said breathlessly as she stepped outside, briefly pausing to make sure her sandals were secure. "I'm ready."

Father set the pace; he went quickly and without words, trusting in Sango to follow. The urgency so obvious in his gait made Sango even more nervous than before. At length, when they were about halfway home, he said, "Please try not to disappear the next time important guests come looking for you."

"Kohaku is the one who sent me to the bathhouse, Father," Sango murmured quietly, aware that there had been a trace of humor in her father's words. "If I had known how important it was, I would have gone straight home."

It did not seem that her apology improved Father's mood in the slightest. In spite of his not entirely ill-humored reprimand, he still looked stern and bothered. These must be some seriously important guests to merit such displeasure. Sango hurried along after her father, wondering just what was going on, although she knew she would find out soon enough. She had a distinct feeling as she crossed the threshold that she was not going to like what was waiting for her within the house.

Indeed, a small group of uniformed men awaited in the house's great room. It served as Father's audience chamber, where he heard requests for assistance and dealt with any and all newcomers to the village. Except Miroku, who had conned a tanuki into flying him in, Sango remembered, and had to suppress a smile.

The smile quickly faded as she gave the visitors a closer look. She recognized their uniforms - they were the same as the one her uncle had worn the last time he came back to the village before he died - and felt her heart drop at the sight. These men had come from the royal palace. They had come a very long way for her. This could not be good.

Her father bowed his head slightly, another bad sign, but when the leader of the group spoke his words made Sango choke.

"This is Sango?"

A nod from Father.

The man turned to face Sango directly, staring at her with cold malice in his eyes. "Taijiya Sango, by order of Lady Higurashi Kikyou you are charged with desertion and the kidnapping of a member of the royal family, and are to be taken into custody immediately."

She couldn't breathe. She knew what he was referring to, and that he had it all so very wrong infuriated her. Yes, she had abandoned her assigned post in Princess Kagome's escort, but that action had been a last resort in order to save the Princess's life. It was hardly desertion, much less kidnapping. And Princess Kikyou knew that. Or, she was supposed to. There was no way these charges could be legitimate. Sango got the distinct impression that this was somewhat else altogether, some ploy of Kikyou's. And she did not appreciate that one bit.

Finally, she managed a gasping, impudent, "What?"

"Princess Kikyou has ordered the Taijiya Sango taken into custody for the crimes of desertion and kidnapping a member of the royal family," the man repeated, his tone terse and annoyed.

"These are very serious accusations," Father murmured. Sango barely heard him.

"I am very sorry," she said, shaking her head firmly, "but you have come a very long way for the wrong person."

"Then you are not Sango?"

She frowned. "I am, but I have not done the deeds of which I am accused."

"That is for Lady Kikyou to decide."

Sango wanted very much to look to her father, for him to intervene in some way on her behalf, for him to speak a few magic words and clear the whole mess up. But he was silent. It hurt her more than anything her father had ever done before. She refused to give in to the urge to look to him for assistance or defense, if he would not offer it freely.

"I am to stand trial, then?" she demanded, struggling to keep her voice calm. Calm and collected, calm... and collected. She repeated it in her head like a mantra. She could not afford to be rash now. She would not disgrace her village.

The man nodded curtly.

"And I suppose I've no choice in the matter."

Another nod. "If you do not come willingly, we have orders to take you by force."

They couldn't manage it, not if she mustered the village against them. She wondered if Father expected her to try. But no. She would not ask it of the villagers. Theirs was a peaceful village, and had been since long before she was born. She would not draw them into a potential war just to defend her honor. Not when she was sure that Kikyou would see the error of this accusation - or at least tell her the truth behind it - and set her free as soon as the matter was settled. She did not like it, not one bit, but she would go to the capital to confront Kikyou. And it was better to go willingly than in chains.

Even if it still meant tarnishing one of the happiest days in her life. Miroku had spent the past year earning a place among the Taijiya. He had faced trials and tribulations, jests and mockery and more besides to win that place and the respect of Sango's kinsmen. It was only recently that he had gauged the time right and his status secure enough that he had made a bid for Sango's hand in marriage, and only today that her father had accepted the proposal, announcing to all the village that his only daughter would wed the monk Miroku in the spring. She had been thrilled. Giddy, too, but mostly excited.

And now it was all crashing down around her, overwhelmed by doubt and fear. In spite of her firm belief that this was all a big misunderstanding, she still feared that somehow Kikyou might not believe her story. A dozen what-if scenarios involving nasty punishments vied for dominance within her mind, none of them pleasant.

Worst of all was that she had no idea what she was going to tell Miroku. She did not know if she would even be allowed a chance to bid him farewell before being hauled off to the capital to stand trial for a crime she had not committed. She hated the thought of leaving without saying good-bye, but it seemed so much easier to simply disappear into the night than to face him.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, she became aware of his presence; he was standing in the doorway of the room, watching. She did not know when he had arrived or how much he had heard.

"What is going on here?" he asked.

Sango gazed at him imploringly, hoping against hope that he would have enough sense not to get involved in this.

Kikyou's men said nothing; it was Sango's father that explained. "These men have come to take Sango to the palace for questioning regarding the kidnapping of a member of the royal family."

Sango loved her father dearly. In that moment she would gladly have killed him. If Miroku knew what was going on, there was no way he would let her go alone, and the one thing she was absolutely certain of right now was that she did not want Miroku involved in this treachery. He would be much better off waiting in the village with the others until she returned.

Or did not, but she refused to consider that possibility.

"Why?" Miroku demanded. The visitors looked a good deal more intimidated by this irate monk than they had by Sango or her father.

"The Taijiya Sango is charged with kidnapping a member of the royal family."

Miroku's brow furrowed in consternation; he cast a sidelong glance at Sango, but she kept her face as expressionless and calm as possible. "You're serious," he said at length.

"By the order of Her Highness Higurashi Kikyou, this woman, Sango, is to be brought in for questioning," the visitor elaborated. "If the Princess wills it, she will stand trial for her misdeeds."

"I see," Miroku mused, his tone thoughtful. "May I have a word with Sango and her father before you take her?"

The man hesitated for a moment before nodding assent, apparently deciding that it was unlucky to cross a holy man. And in Miroku's case, that was probably a wise decision. Sango might not be willing to rouse the village to her defense, but she would not put it past Miroku to do it for her if he felt it was necessary.

Miroku seemed pleased by the man's decision to allow him to confer with Sango and her father, and led them a short distance away where they could have at least a semblance of privacy.

"Houshi-sama..." Sango cautioned, even before he had a chance to say anything.

"I'm going with you," he informed her bluntly, undeterred.

"No," she responded, every bit as determined as he was.

"Oh, please," Miroku said, his tone light. "The last time your father sent you off alone, you came back with a man desperately in love with you. I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Sango struggled to stifle wildly inappropriate laughter at that. Of all the absolutely, utterly stupid reasons to throw himself to the wolves with her... "I don't suppose telling you about all of the times where my father sent me off alone and I did not come back with a man hopelessly in love with me will change your mind?"

"Never! Besides, I came in handy last time, didn't I?"

She scowled at him for that. Just because he had followed her home from a mission, he thought that it might be a common occurrence, or at least he liked to tease her as if he did. They both knew she had not wanted him to join her and Kagome on that journey, though his keen eyes and quick thinking had eventually proved valuable. And he had been studying the arts of battle under the Taijiya for almost a year now. Still, she could not knowingly put him in harm's way just because he was so stupidly devoted to her. "Miroku..."

He glowered right back. "Where you go, I go."

Sango gave up with a groan. "Ugh, men! Fine, do as you will."

Father had watched them bicker without saying a word, but now he chuckled at her exasperation; she got the distinct impression that he felt better sending her off if Miroku went with her. Well then, so be it. She would take Miroku with her, and hope it didn't get them both killed.

Their conference done, they made their way back to where Kikyou's men waited. Miroku bowed his head humbly. "I am afraid that if you are seeking the guilty party in this situation, then you must take me as well."

The royal guardsman looked a bit confused. "You were involved as well, Houshi-sama?"

"Yes, of course," Miroku said amiably, as if he had not just - falsely! - admitted to treason. Sango seethed silently as he went on, "I was complicit in all that occurred."

"Very well," Kikyou's man said somberly. He did not look pleased at this turn of events. "I will take you for questioning as well, Houshi-sama. You will not attempt to escape?"

Miroku assured the man that they would not, and that there would be no reprisal from the Taijiya; they would let the law of the land - and Lady Kikyou's good sense - determine the truth of the matter, and their own innocence. He was a good speaker, and persuasive. Father had learned that long ago, when Miroku first came to the village, and seemed to have no problem letting the monk do the talking now. Besides that, it meant that if action had to be taken to secure Sango's safety down the road, only Miroku would be forsworn, not the Taijiya, for he spoke now without their knowledge or approval, with their leader as a witness.

"When do we depart?" Sango asked, subdued, when Miroku had finished speaking.

"Now."

-x-

Now turned out to mean after Sango and Miroku had gathered sufficient supplies for the return trip to the capital, for the guards would be unable to provide for them. Sango stuffed her armor and daggers into her pack; her wakizashi wouldn't fit, so she slipped it through her obi, and though she briefly considered attempting to bring her Hiraikotsu, she ultimately decided against it. She suspected the guards would not tolerate her attempt to bring weaponry with her, but she was determined to try anyway.

"It's odd, isn't it?" Miroku mused.

He had come to their village a penniless monk, who had spent his life learning from a drunkard in a temple far away. His status among the Taijiya had risen considerably since then, but he still preferred not to burden himself overmuch with possessions. So instead of packing his own supplies, for he had very little to bring that he was not already wearing or carrying with him, he was watching her pack. Once, she would have found his presence stifling and annoying. Today she wanted him to hold her and tell her everything would turn out right in the end. She wondered if he would, if she had the courage to ask. "Hmm?"

"This whole business." He gestured vaguely.

Sango sighed. "I've found that where the royal family is concerned, everything is odd." She paused, considering, and soon found herself babbling worriedly. "For one thing, these men are lying. I've no idea why or what they are trying to hide, but they aren't telling us the truth. They aren't even telling us a very good lie. There is no way Kikyou would be so foolish as to think -"

"Sango..."

"It scares me, Houshi-sama," she confessed, the slightest tremor in her voice. "I don't know what she could possibly want from me."

"It must be something very important, if she's willing to put you in chains and use lies and treachery to force your hand."

"That's what scares me."

-x-

They set off that night, traveling as far as they dared by moonlight. Much to her surprise, no one checked Sango's pack. In fact, no one even commented on the fact that she was wearing a sword. Once they had collected their prisoners, the guards seemed almost carefree. Their good cheer only made Sango feel worse. And, more than that, she was getting angry.

What right did Kikyou have to steal away one of the Taijiya under false pretenses? She could have at least tried to be forthcoming with them, since it was obvious already that she wanted something. At least that way Sango wouldn't have gone to her aid feeling resentful. Since the situation most likely had something to do with Kagome - Kikyou was a wily woman by reputation, and Sango had no doubt the guards' reason for taking her into custody, which they had repeated several times, was supposed to tell her something - she had a feeling she would have offered her assistance freely.

Although her thoughts were wandering elsewhere and she was only peripherally aware of Miroku's relatively untroubled presence beside her, she found she was grateful that he had chosen to join her. There was something about him that was soothing to her. Whether it was the fact that he brought to mind calming exercises and lessons in meditation, or that being near him somehow made her heart feel lighter... she was glad of it.

She would have borne this farce with considerably less grace without him.

When they finally made camp, however, she found an entirely new reason to feel irritated. And this time Miroku was the root of the problem.

With this many strange men about and no longer distracted by the difficulties of picking a trail through mountains in the dark, he was being less than subtly possessive of her. Based on the appreciative looks one of the men in particular had been giving her ever since they left the village, she couldn't really blame him for being protective... but his open closeness and the way he kept glaring at the guardsmen were beginning to bother her. It wasn't proper to be so demonstrative in front of others, and strangers at that, but she was not sure she was ready for the alternative. She was generally more comfortable being "one of the guys" than an object of adoration.

"What is your problem?" she asked him in a hissing whisper while the guards busied themselves with preparing and eating a small dinner. "They aren't going to hurt me."

Miroku looked suddenly impassive. "They'll let us share a blanket this way, instead of keeping us separate. Watch."

Indignant, she did. None of the guards wanted to risk their good fortune by offending a holy man. Not a single word was uttered against Miroku's decision to stick close to his woman, even though it would have been most prudent to keep prisoners apart lest they conspire against their captors.

When she was ensconced beneath the blanket, wrapped up in her fiance's arms, Sango grumbled, "Couldn't they at least be bothered to keep up pretenses?"

Miroku chuckled. "Apparently not. But I won't be the one to complain. Will you?"

Sango shook her head. The guards' behavior might baffle and frustrate her, but she had to admit this was a lot more pleasant than being treated as a prisoner in earnest. At least she was warm and relatively safe - if not from Miroku's notoriously wandering hands, then at least from the predations of the guardsmen - for the night.

The last time she had left her village with a royal emissary, it had taken a few days to reach the capital. But that emissary had turned out to be her uncle; he had known the paths to and from the Taijiya village, even if it had been years since his last visit. These men did not have that advantage, and quickly became lost. The paths were designed to be winding and confusing for exactly that reason. The Taijiya traditionally wanted to keep outsiders where they belonged: out.

Their progress was also slowed considerably because they did not have horses and had to carry all of their supplies on their own backs. It seemed they had only found the village at all thanks to a stroke of impossibly good luck.

By the third day of their idiotic trek, Sango could stand it no longer. "Do you want to get out of these mountains, or would you like to spend what's left of your lives wandering aimlessly?" she demanded. The men looked abjectly embarrassed. Beside her, Miroku stifled a laugh.

"We don't know the way, Lady Taijiya," the man the others treated as the leader - in her irritation, Sango hadn't bothered to learn their names, only that they were all young and pathetically inexperienced - told her.

She frowned. "Did it never occur to you to ask?"

"You could have volunteered," he said sheepishly.

Sango's frown grew into a scowl. "Why on earth would I do that? You lied to get me here. You took me away from my village when I'm supposed to be getting married and for no reason that you will tell me. Why would I offer to help you? I may as well just let you die so I can go home."

"Of course," Miroku was quick to add, "Since we do not wish to risk the ire of Princess Kikyou and the royal army, it is in our best interest that everyone come out of this alive. Lady Sango will be happy to show us the way out of the mountains, right?"

She would have glared at him so he would know just how annoying it was for him to take their side instead of hers, but he was right. Even if she managed to escape from these men, Kikyou would just send more. And they would probably be a great deal more dangerous. Of course, if Kikyou would just be forthcoming with the truth, Sango would have taken Kirara and already been at the palace by now. "Yes, of course, Houshi-sama," she bit out.

Miroku had spent much of his time in the Taijiya village trying to get Sango to use his name instead of his title. Sometimes she still forgot herself and called him Houshi-sama instead of Miroku... but this time it was a deliberate attempt to irritate him. He appeared not to notice, which only made her more irritated. "See? We'll be out of here in no time!" he told the guards cheerfully.

True to Miroku's word, Sango made short work of finding the correct path. Or, rather, the tiny trail that led to a larger path that intersected with what passed for a main road in this part of the mountains. She spent much of the next couple of days feeling rather sour and grumpy, but the misadventure did have one benefit: the guardsmen found a new respect and admiration for her. Which was probably, she guessed, exactly what Miroku had been thinking when he failed to say anything about how lost they were becoming. Sango wasn't sure whether to be proud or dismayed that her fiance always seemed to be thinking two steps ahead of everyone else.

They made good time once they got out of the mountains, heading across first foothills and then a broad plain punctuated by occasional hills while the mountain range curved away to the west. Without horses, their progress was still slow, but at least the guardsmen knew their way home from here and no longer had to be led along like lost children.

As they drew closer to the capital city and the inevitable confrontation with Kikyou, Sango felt her bad mood gradually dissipate, only to be replaced by a pervasive nervousness. At least traveling in rough terrain only she was familiar with had provided a distraction. Now as she trudged along behind the guards she had very little do to but think about what was waiting for her in the city. Think, and worry, and hope for the best.

-x-

It would have been an understatement to say that Sango was nervous about meeting Kikyou. By the time she and Miroku arrived at the palace and had been led to a small waiting chamber, she was a mess of fear and tension. Only Miroku's presence served to keep her grounded. She was more glad than ever that he had contrived to go with her, although she could not bring herself to tell him that. She would never hear the end of it if she did.

During her last stay in the palace, she had heard more than enough rumors about Kagome's sister to satisfy her curiosity without actually meeting the elder princess; where the younger sister was kind and open-hearted, the elder was rumored to be all cold, calculating business. She had to be. Sango understood that much. She could put on a stern face herself when she chose to. Not that knowing any of this really helped ease her nerves.

"What do you think she wants?" Miroku mused, half under his breath.

"I don't know," Sango murmured. That was what scared her the most. She had no idea what Kikyou might want with her, aside from the claim of treason, which was fairly obviously a false pretense. Or at least, she hoped it was. Then again, she had also hoped never to have anything to do with the royal family again once she had safely delivered Princess Kagome to her half-demon fiance...

Miroku took Sango's hand in his and squeezed it gently. Before he could say anything, however, the door to the anteroom slid open and two guards in formal attire beckoned them forward.

Miroku immediately released Sango's hand and indicated that she should go before him; she hesitated for only a moment before acquiescing. Any nobles that were present would gossip about this for days. It was highly unusual for a woman to precede her husband (or husband-to-be) in affairs of state, but it was Sango who had been summoned, not Miroku. Miroku was only present because he refused to stay behind.

She followed the guards into the audience chamber as stoically as she could, determined not to let her fear or confusion show. No matter what was to follow, right now she would do her village and her people proud.

They entered the chamber slowly. Lady Kikyou sat upon a dais at the far end of the room, looking imperious and intimidating... but alone. She had no attendants with her, not even a single privileged noble or adviser. And, tellingly, no guards beyond those that were serving as escort for her guests. Nevertheless, Sango gave the Princess every demonstration of respect due one of her station, bowing deeply when the guards indicated she should stop walking. A step behind her, Miroku followed suit.

"You are dismissed," Kikyou said. The guards rose and departed, closing the door behind them. To Sango and Miroku, she commanded, "Rise."

Sango was so stunned at suddenly finding herself alone with the ruler of the land that it took her a moment to comply. "Yes, Your Highness."

"Who is this man?"

"He is... he is my fiance, Your Highness."

Kikyou mulled that over for a moment, then went on, "Do you know why you are here?" She paused, then clarified, "The real reason you are here."

"No, Your Highness."

"There has been no news from out of the West in your village?"

"No," Sango said. The last news she had heard from outside the Taijiya village was that the Queen had taken ill and, as Prince Souta was not yet of age to assume the throne, Princess Kikyou had been crowned as regent until such time as the Queen recovered or Souta gained his majority. That this new mess had something to do with the Western lands and, no doubt, Princess Kagome should not have surprised Sango in the least. The West... everything always seemed to have something to do with the Western lands.

"Then let me explain. My sister is missing."

Whatever Sango had expected to hear, it was not this. She and Miroku had been instrumental in delivering Princess Kagome, Kikyou's younger sister, to the Western lands and her husband, Inuyasha, a year before. The last they had seen her, she was married and safe with her new husband. To hear that she had gone missing was disconcerting, to say the least.

"Kagome has disappeared, and she has slain her husband, or so the rumors say. Rumors that must be kept under wraps at all costs. The messengers from my brother-in-law say that Inuyasha but sleeps, an enchanted arrow through his heart," Kikyou went on. Sango began to see the reason for the lie that had brought her and Miroku to the palace; Kikyou did not want word getting out that anything was amiss, much less that her sister was the cause of it. There had been enough unrest in the kingdom leading up to Kagome's marriage, even without further complications. "There has been little sign of Kagome since the... incident. It is my wish that you find her, and return her to her rightful place to undo what has been done, or face the consequences of her actions."

"With all due respect, my Lady," Sango protested, "I am a Taijiya, a slayer. Not a tracker." Of course, all Taijiya were trained in tracking and had at least some rudimentary skill at it. But over great distances and with a trail that had long since gone cold... the odds weren't good.

"There will be no need for that. We have already tracked her movements to a village in the north," Lady Kikyou explained.

"So, uh, forgive my impertinence, Your Highness, but... what do you need me for if you have already found her?"

"Her movements have been tracked. She has not been found," Kikyou clarified. "The village is barricaded. Entry is restricted by a sacred barrier. I am in need of someone capable of infiltrating, someone my sister trusts and will not run from, someone that can protect her if it comes to a fight. And for that -"

"You need me," Sango concluded.

"Yes."

Sango felt her heart drop. The last thing she wanted was to go on another crazy mission. Worse, this one was insane from the start, where her last journey at the behest of the royal family had at least started out innocently enough.

She was tempted, strongly tempted, to refuse.

The Taijiya were only nominally subservient to the royal family; they obeyed the common laws of the land and bowed to the King or Queen only when necessary. But for the most part the village served as its own nation, with its own traditions and laws, completely self-governing. Most people did not even know it existed, much less where it was. She did not think Kikyou would go to war over this. She could refuse, if she had to.

But her heart would not allow it.

She had grown quite close to Princess Kagome during their journey together. She might even go so far as to say they were friends. And she could not knowingly allow a friend to remain in danger. So it was almost a foregone conclusion that she would go on this mad quest of Kikyou's, and do her best to find and rescue Kagome from whatever peril she had gotten herself into.

The only problem was that she was not quite sure how to break the news to Miroku.

Thankfully, she found that she had some time in which to come up with a plan. After the meeting with Kikyou, they were provided with a meal fresh from the kitchens before being led to an out of the way corridor lined with doors. Behind each door, it turned out, was a small guest room. When their servant guide deposited her and Miroku at one of these doors and informed them that they were welcome to make use of it for the night, Sango thought she had finally devised a suitable plan of action.

All of her plans came to naught as soon as she and Miroku were alone.

"You're going to do it," he surmised.

Feeling suddenly uncomfortable with her decision, made entirely without consulting him, she nodded once.

"That's what I thought. When do we leave?"

She had not expected it to be that easy. "As soon as Kikyou tells us where we're going."

"I won't get too comfortable, then," he teased, "although our accommodations are quite... cozy."

Sango made a face. Cozy was not quite the word she would use to describe the room in which they now found themselves. Claustrophobic would have been a better choice. It was tiny. And closet-like. There would barely be room to roll out a futon to sleep on... but it was just the two of them. They wouldn't have to share it with anyone else. And in the ever-crowded palace, that said a lot.

"I think she likes us," Sango grumbled.

Miroku laughed. "I agree. I haven't the slightest idea why, but I think Kikyou is quite taken with us."

It bothered Sango. She did not want to like Kikyou, and she did not want Kikyou to like her - or Miroku. And she would have been perfectly happy to sulk about it for a while, but Miroku had other plans. As soon as he realized that she did not share his amusement at their situation, he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her, soundly, until she forgot she was trying to be in a bad mood.

"It's not all bad," he reminded her, one hand fiddling absently with her belt. She rested a hand gently on top of his to put a stop to it before he could get carried away.

"I don't think now is a good time for this," she protested, fragments of Father's many lectures about distractions echoing in her head.

"We haven't exactly had a lot of privacy back at the village," Miroku commented softly. "Or on the way here."

"Mmm," Sango murmured by way of agreement. "But I think we're going to need our sleep, and to make sure we keep our wits about us."

Miroku pouted, but she could tell he knew she was right. He didn't press the issue after that. But he didn't complain, either, when she cuddled up against him on the single mat they had been provided and went to sleep.

-x-

Morning arrived all too quickly, and with it written instructions from Kikyou. The bundle of fine, thick paper included a list of potential contacts and a map. Sango decided to avoid contacting any of the people on Kikyou's list unless it was absolutely necessary. She did not trust strangers much further than she could throw them, even if they did have a Princess to vouch for them.

Miroku could attest to that, she thought, and stifled a smile.

A second, smaller note referenced a servant that would see to it that they received whatever supplies they required for their journey. They had only to provide a list and all would be provided for them. To this end, Kikyou had taken pains that her bundled instructions also included leaves of fresh paper, a pot of ink, and a brush.

Out of habit, Miroku did the writing while Sango dictated the relatively few supplies she thought might be necessary for the trip. Miroku made a few suggestions here and there, but for the most part he was content to let Sango be in charge of planning. Most of what they would need they had brought with them from the Taijiya village, or could find along the way. She wanted to travel light and fast, so they could put this all behind them as quickly as possible.

Everything was ready in surprisingly short order. Servants arrived bearing the few requested supplies only a short while after Miroku returned from delivering the list.

It felt odd to Sango to leave the palace after only a brief stay, but she was certainly glad of one thing: they departed quietly and without fanfare. After all, the official story still had it that Sango had been brought in for questioning regarding her service to Kagome the previous year. Since it had been found that Sango's behavior was honorable and had probably saved the Princess's life, no one particularly cared what she did next or where she went. Everyone would assume she was going home.

If more rumors arose concerning Kagome's fate, they would not stem from the actions of Sango or Miroku.

They left heading toward the Taijiya village, planning to circle around to the north once they were well out of sight of the city. From there they would press on as swiftly as possible for the village marked on the map. It promised to be a tedious journey.

Kirara met them a short distance down the road, all rumbles and purrs for the friends she had thought she might lose.

"Did Father send you?" Sango asked, her tone wry.

The demon cat merely cocked her head to one side and chirped.

"That's what I thought," Sango said, kneeling to ruffle Kirara's fur. "Here, I'll carry you."

The tiny cat leaped into Sango's waiting arms with her customary effortless grace, settling easily for the journey. They carried on in silence for some time after that, until the city was beginning to fade into the distance behind them. Glancing to the side, Sango caught Miroku looking at her, a peculiar look on his face.

"What's that look for?" she asked.

"Just remembering the last trip we took together," he commented smoothly. His stride never faltered, and he seemed perfectly at ease in spite of the fact that he was so obviously baiting her. "And how you fought me tooth and nail over my idea to pose as your intended."

Sango giggled. She had to admit she had set herself up for some teasing on that count. "Things have changed a little since then."

"Just a little, yes," Miroku agreed. "So what should our cover story be this time?"

"I don't think we'll need one," Sango told him. "At least, not yet. I know Kikyou expects us to travel on foot, but I have a faster way in mind."

"Kirara?"

She nodded. "The sooner we find Kagome, the better. I just want to get this over with and go home." Nuzzling her head against the cat demon that was currently riding on her shoulder, Sango murmured, "Kirara, will you carry us?"

Kirara gave a high-pitched chirp and leaped from her place on Sango's shoulder, transforming as she went. In her larger form, Kirara could carry both humans easily, and move far more quickly than they could on foot.

Flying might be much faster than walking, but even with that advantage it was a long and dull journey. Following the directions indicated on the map Kikyou had provided, they made good progress on the first day and again over the following days. Miroku let Sango dictate the pace, admitting easily that she knew more about Kirara's abilities and stamina than he did.

The farther afield they traveled, the more densely wooded the land became, settling into gently rolling hills that were covered with huge, ancient trees and all manner of undergrowth. Far away through the forested hills, Sango knew, were more mountains. The same chain of mountains that hid her home village continued its way ponderously north, like a great spine through the land, all the way to the vast frozen wastelands that were as far north as anyone could venture. It seemed strange to think of how very wide the world really was, with most people never venturing far beyond the village or farm where they were born.

Miroku laughed when she said as much. Being a wanderer at heart, he enjoyed the fact that she was curious about the world around her and did not mind travel. Granted, she would have preferred it to be under different circumstances, but she was glad to get out of the village and out on the open road for a while. And even better that she got to take Miroku with her, so they could spend some time together away from the meddling of the other villagers. She felt a pang of homesickness at the thought of the other villagers; their 'helpful' pranks and transparent attempts at pushing her and Miroku together into compromising situations might grow tiresome, but she was going to miss them.

All the more reason, she decided, to take care of this quickly. But all the wishing in the world could not rush their progress or bring them to their destination any faster.

The tedium was well and truly beginning to wear through her resolve when at last they came upon a sign that they were close to their destination. It happened one day in the early afternoon: Kirara came to a stop and would go no farther. She lowered herself slowly to the ground and allowed the humans to dismount, but she could not be coaxed into moving forward.

"Okay," Sango said with some trepidation, "Let's go see what's got her upset."

There wasn't much that could disconcert Kirara like that. She might be able to look like a small kitten, but she was actually quite old and had seen more than her share of the world. In all their years together, Sango had never seen her behave so strangely before; it made her nervous.

They didn't have to go far to find the source of the problem. Sango never even saw it coming, simply ran straight into something invisible that blocked the path. She grumbled under her breath, but stopped when she realized that Miroku had passed without hindrance.

Miroku turned around to face her and frowned. "A barrier? That's odd. I didn't even feel anything."

Sango rested her palm against the invisible barrier, feeling the power in it vibrate against her, nearly numbing her hand. This had to be what had spooked Kirara. If it felt this strong to a human, she could only imagine what it might have done to Kirara. And, too, she wondered how Miroku could have passed through without feeling a thing. "I think it only admits those with holy powers."

"I'm not going on without you."

"You may not have a choice."

His expression told her that he would give up this stupid quest before proceeding without her. She supposed on some level his dedication was sweet. Right now it just seemed irritating. A good Taijiya would get the job done before letting personal entanglements interfere. He really ought to know better by now. "Miroku," she said, her voice taking on a stern warning tone.

"I know," he muttered, clearly displeased. "Let me try something before we simply give up."

He raised the metal staff he carried and touched it to the barrier; the magic power split around it like a fall of water, leaving a small opening that Sango could slip through. She felt inexplicably breathless when she found herself within the barrier with him. "I can't believe that worked!"

"Kirara," Miroku said, his tone deferential. "Will you be joining us?"

Kirara merely tilted her head slightly and did not move, a tacit refusal. She would wait for them on the outside, then, while they hunted Kagome down and convinced her to return to her sister. As she and Miroku turned to continue down the path, Sango couldn't help but look over her shoulder to watch as her friend's small form dwindled even more with distance.

"She'll be all right," Miroku assured her.

"I know. Kirara can take care of herself. I just have a feeling I'm going to miss her."

-x-

The barrier encompassed a massive area. A couple of hours after they passed through it, they came upon the first fields that surrounded the village. It was dusk by the time they reached the village itself. It was smaller than Sango had imagined, and surrounded by a high wall. Only the areas immediately adjacent to the road had been cultivated. Where there were no fields, the vast forest butted up against the wall. Some of the trees had been cut down so they could not be climbed to scale the walls, but beyond that... it was as if the village, wall and all, had just been dropped into the middle of untouched wilderness.

The villagers were aware, well before Miroku and Sango actually set foot within the village proper, that there were visitors. Most of the village turned out to get a look at the newcomers, though they tried to be subtle about it, peering out of doorways or sneaking a glance around buildings. The children were more openly curious, but still a great deal more withdrawn than Sango was accustomed to. In her experience, children had a tendency to be attracted to Taijiya, especially the novelty of a young female warrior. And although she was not wearing her armor and was therefore not quite so obviously different from any other woman, aside from the sword at her hip, it was somewhat disconcerting to see them hold back the way they did.

It did not take long to figure out why the villagers were so cautious. In spite of its relatively small size, the village maintained a trained garrison. Sango hadn't expected that. It bent their plans all out of shape: if Kagome was here, she might be a prisoner rather than a refugee. And the presence of such a large number of armed men meant that, as newcomers, their every action was bound to be supervised by at least one guard.

Suddenly Sango was glad that they had been able to use Kirara to travel so quickly. This was going to take a lot longer than even Kikyou had thought it might.

She was so lost in thought as she and Miroku wandered through the village that she became aware too late that there was a commotion down the street. As if on cue, guardsmen seemed to swarm from every direction, ushering the common folk and their two visitors out of the way. In the crush of bodies as people crowded around the edges of the narrow street, Sango became separated from Miroku. Instinctively, she jostled for position among the villagers, surprisingly eager to see what was causing all the fuss.

She would just have to find Miroku after the hubbub had died down. She felt exposed being separated from him like this, but searching for him in the crowd would have been conspicuous. And she was curious, too. She wanted to get a glimpse of whatever it was that had caused the guards to pull everyone off the street like this. It reminded her of the way the Taijiya women would gather all the children and cluster together outside their homes to cheer the triumphant return of their warriors.

But that was not the case here.

A lone figure strode down the street surrounded by four guards. It was a woman, Sango thought. Small and lithe, and covered head to toe in white fabric, including a veil over her head. The sight was so otherworldly, like a ghost passing through, that it sent a slight tremor down Sango's spine.

"Who is that?" she asked quietly, of no one in particular.

The nearest guardsman eyed her askance, but answered anyway. "That's the Lady, and you'd best show her some respect!"

Sango murmured an apology for the rudeness of her ignorance, but the guard, a man barely her own age, just kept talking. "She's a goddess in human form," he informed her, his tone almost gleeful, "I'd hate to see what she'd do to someone as dumb and disrespectful as you."

"I meant no offense," she muttered, and turned her gaze away from the young man. The woman under that veil... she had never heard of anything like it. Outside of the Taijiya village and excepting the current, unusual situation with the royal family and the occasional influential priestess, women were generally subordinate to men, not venerated. Whoever this Lady was, she was a woman of immense power, or at least great charisma. Sango had a sneaking suspicion that the high status of this Lady was a relatively new phenomenon... and that she knew what that veil was hiding.

-x-

"I think that our mysterious 'Lady' is Princess Kagome," Sango said without preamble.

She and Miroku were both staying at the village's lone inn; they were its only patrons. Few people wanted to get through the barrier that protected the village. Fewer still were capable of it. Despite the inn's emptiness, she had waited until all the staff were asleep before sneaking into Miroku's room, rather than trusting to the discretion of strangers.

Miroku mulled that over for a while in silence before finally nodding. "I agree. It seems the most likely option. But what do we do about it? If she is accompanied by guards at all times, as she was today... we will have to find a way to get close enough to talk to her without getting arrested for our efforts."

"I could join the garrison," Sango suggested.

Miroku didn't like it. He didn't forbid her from doing it, but he thought she would be better served to seek an audience with whoever was in charge of the village, the mysterious and nameless "Lady", and said as much without reservation.

"Then you do it," she prodded. She could drive a mean bargain when it came to fees for demon-slaying services rendered, but on the whole he was much better with words than she was and she had no doubt he would be better able to accomplish things on that front than she would.

He frowned. "What would a wandering monk want to discuss with the village-head?"

"You'll think of something," she assured him, knowing that he would. "Maybe this wandering monk has ambitions of a temple of his own, in a pleasant, sheltered little village in the countryside, where he won't be bothered by marauding demons."

Miroku chuckled, obviously struggling to picture himself as the type to aspire to money and power. "I will try. But promise me that you will at least seek an audience on your own before trying the garrison."

"Miroku..."

"It would set my mind at ease."

She couldn't argue with that. "Fine. I'll try, at least, before I report to the garrison."

"Thank you."

She turned to go; it was getting late and she had a feeling she would need her rest. The coming day was sure to be a trying one.

"I wish you would stay here tonight," Miroku said quietly.

She laughed. "Don't you think that the villagers might find that a little suspicious?"

He met her question with a pout. "I am a good looking man with a very gifted tongue. It's not possible that I could have seduced you into spending a pleasant night together before going our separate ways?"

"Such humility," Sango teased, earning a rakish grin from her fiance.

"You would expect any less from your husband-to-be?"

She looped her arms around him and let him kiss her good-night. He wasn't merely boasting when he said he had a very gifted tongue. "At this point? Of course not."

-x-

Sango went to the Lady's mansion first thing in the morning. She wore her Taijiya's armor in spite of the stares it drew and the gossip she heard already spreading in her wake. As she had suspected, the guards - the best the garrison had to offer, specifically dedicated into the Lady's service - turned her away without so much as a cursory glance. Taijiya or no, she would not see the Lady unless the Lady willed it. And, they were careful to point out, the Lady had no such wish.

If Sango desired to serve the village as a Taijiya, she should see the head of the garrison. She sighed, but made sure to thank the guards before she took her leave. These villagers were a paranoid bunch, to be sure. She considered stopping by the inn before heading over to large hut where the garrison was stationed, to give Miroku a quick 'I told you so', but decided it would be best to maintain some distance between them. The Lady might not want to speak to a Taijiya woman, but she might yet be willing to seek counsel from a monk, so long as that monk was not seen in the company of the Taijiya.

She felt some trepidation as she approached the garrison's hut and found herself wishing she had agreed to spend the night with Miroku, so she could have enjoyed one last night with his calming presence beside her before she had to make it through the gods knew how many nights alone and alert. But what was done was done. She put it all forcefully behind her and was able to stride purposefully into the garrison, betraying not the slightest whit of fear.

If she showed fear in this place, they would never accept her. It wouldn't be the end of her plans; she would go back to Miroku and start over at square one if necessary.

"Who is in charge here?" she asked using as imperious a tone as she could muster. Father had taught her to bluff and how to display a brashness and swagger befitting a warrior even when she didn't feel it; she rather thought he would be proud of her now.

"I am," came the response, from a rather grizzled looking man who might have been a few years younger than Sango's father. "My name's Takahiro, and I'm in charge of this garrison." He took a moment to look her over. "What the hell are you?"

"I am Sango," she said, matching his prideful tone and pretending not to notice his surprise at her appearance. "And I am a Taijiya, a slayer-of-demons."

That sent a murmur through the men, and they crowded closer around, each attempting to get a better vantage point. They had obviously heard tales of the Taijiya warriors before - who hadn't? she thought with pride - but had never actually seen one.

"A Taijiya," Takahiro mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "What does a Taijiya want with our village? We've no need of your protection. We've a fine garrison of strong young men already, and a holy barrier to boot. Nothing gets in or out without our knowledge. Specially not demons."

"Can you be absolutely certain of that? I passed through without difficulty." She wondered if Takahiro would call her bluff.

"I'll only ask you one more time, woman, before I have my men haul you away. What do you want here?"

"I seek employment."

There was a fresh round of grumbling at that; it was clear that they doubted her story, so she embellished. "I was expelled from my village for the wrongful death of a man - which, I might add, had nothing to do with me. So I have journeyed these past months in search of work and a new beginning."

Takahiro looked doubtful, but his men seemed to buy the tale.

"If you wanna work with us, show us what you're made of!" one man shouted into the silence. A chorus of similar demands rose up until Takahiro lifted a hand, a gesture that immediately quieted his men.

"It is not our custom to include women in the garrison," Takahiro said reasonably. "However, because as a Taijiya you may be uniquely qualified to assist, I will give you an opportunity to demonstrate your skill."

Sango bowed deferentially. "Of course."

"You will fight me. Prove yourself to be my equal and you may have your chance at employment," he went on. Sango nodded once. "And none of your tricks. It must be an honorable fight."

Slightly incensed at the insult to her tactics in battle, knowing full well that a Taijiya's dishonorable 'tricks' had saved countless lives, Sango made sure to keep a straight face when she responded. "I would expect no less."

"Good." Takahiro drew his sword, holding it with practiced ease. His stance seemed casual, almost careless, but Sango was not fooled. "Whenever you are ready."

Sango nodded and drew her own weapon. Not for the first time since leaving her village, she wished she had her Hiraikotsu with her. It was definitely a weapon that made an impression. Even just to carry the great bone weapon was a potent demonstration of strength and dedication. But she knew that even if she had brought it, she would have to use her sword instead for this fight. There simply was not enough room to maneuver something like the Hiraikotsu in a confined space such as this, at least not if she did not want to bring the entire hut down to prove her worth.

Takahiro was a good warrior. She could tell by looking at him that he had the benefit of long years of experience. But Sango was young and quick, and she was certainly not green in spite of her comparatively few years. She had trained, after all, to fight demons. Compared to that, humans were easy to fight, especially one-on-one. That did not, of course, guarantee her a victory by any means, but it dead mean that she would be able to admirably demonstrate her abilities.

And she did just that, pushing Takahiro hard, but not so hard that either of them was really taxed by the effort. As their swords clashed again and again in a series of quick strikes, parries, and blocks, his expression remained stern. But when they had finished their mock battle to his satisfaction, she could see a warrior's respect for a fellow warrior in his eyes. He, at least, would not doubt her skill after today.

His regard made her feel proud. She sheathed her sword and bowed reverently as he spoke his proclamation.

"Lady Taijiya, If it is your wish to serve the village as a member of the garrison, I will not stop you." And, so far as he was concerned, that was that.

Sango was pleased by her success, but she held on to a few trepidations. She knew well that it was an unorthodox choice; outside of her home village, women were seldom trained as warriors, and then only as a last line of defense. And the younger men of the garrison certainly seemed unimpressed by the addition of a woman - as an equal - to their ranks.

For her part, Sango listened to their grumbling, but paid it little mind. She had dealt with recalcitrant men often enough before, who were unwilling to believe a woman capable of being a warrior even when confronted by living proof. Fortunately, those were generally few and far between, and most men were willing to see reason sooner or later. She was confident that that would be the case here, especially when they realized that, as a woman, she was uniquely suited to play bodyguard to their precious Lady.

She had made it this far and had been accepted as a member of the garrison. It was only a matter of time, now, before she would reach her objective and be able to go home.

-x-

The men of the garrison were a varied lot. Some were old enough and established enough to have huts and families of their own, but others were young and poor, without an inheritance to their name. Accommodations were provided for these. They were little more than cubbies set in the wall of the large hut that served as the garrison's headquarters, but each was a tiny private space. Sango was given one of these cubbies as she lacked the money and resources to build and maintain her own home.

It was cramped and a little less comfortable - and private - than she was accustomed to, but it served her purposes well enough. She wanted the men of the garrison to see how capable she was, which meant she needed to be around them as much as possible. If they would just see how valuable her skills would be to their Lady, she did not doubt she would soon be given over into the Lady's service rather than standard garrison duty.

She spent her days learning who was who, as well as the daily routine for the men of the garrison. This shifted from time to time, she was assured, because many of the men were required to assist with planting and harvesting when the time came, but for the most part a schedule was followed. Men patrolled in small groups, making sure that the paths through the forest were clear, that the barrier was in good condition, and that no unwanted intruders made it through. If the magical barrier were to fail, it would also be their job to ensure that any demons were stopped before they could reach the village.

Easy stuff, so far as Sango was concerned, but the men of the garrison took their job - and the prestige that went along with it - very seriously. Their reactions to having a woman among their number, as an equal rather than a servant, varied considerably. Some were amused by the idea, others simply accepted Takahiro's decision without complaint while keeping their opinions private, and a few were openly antagonistic. But Sango knew how to deal with men, and quickly became adept at keeping even the most recalcitrant ones in line.

And then there was Takahiro. He was in a class by himself, at least in her mind. He reminded Sango more and more of her father with each day that passed. Although he was a warrior by birth, he had a gentle nature. He was often serene and calm, but had an unexpectedly fierce sense of humor. His homeland lay far to the East, where war was common; he was a relatively experienced warrior and had seen - and survived - his fair share of battles against man and demon alike. It was why he had chosen, eventually, to settle in this protected village, far away from his homeland and kin. He hoped never to see a pitched battle again.

Sango couldn't blame him. Indeed, she was the only other member of the garrison that had been involved in any sort of battle beyond the occasional drunken brawl. The others were all young men terrified by the thought of demon incursions or human interference with their village's way of life. Takahiro told her that most of the village's older men had been killed or maimed by demon attacks at one point or another while the current garrison members were children, hence the erection of the barrier some years ago and the pervasive paranoia in the village.

The barrier, he told her one day in one of his more indulgent moments, was as much to keep out other humans as it was to prevent demons from coming near. The villagers harbored a deep mistrust of humans, particularly those loyal to the Eastern lands or to the Higurashi family. They felt that their village had been abandoned, left to the vagaries of whatever demons, mercenaries, or bandits happened to wander through. They harbored no particular love for Taijiya, either, despite what Sango had believed.

"Where were the Taijiya when this village was being relentlessly preyed upon?" he asked; there was no particular malice in the question.

Sango did not answer, though she had a feeling they had been helping in less fanatical - or more threatened - locales. But she made a mental note to ask Father about it later anyway, just to be certain.

-x-

All told, Sango spent nearly a month with the garrison. As the days slipped past without change or progress in her quest, filled instead with training exercises and the occasional clash with the less mature members of the garrison, she grew lonelier and lonelier.

She listened eagerly for any scrap of gossip concerning Miroku, though those were few and far between. He had quickly garnered a reputation as a consummate flirt, which irritated her all the more because she couldn't tell anyone that it bothered her, but he was also known as a good listener and a man quick to help wherever it was needed. The villagers liked him. They did not, so far as she knew, feel the same affection for their new demon slaying guardian or the majority of the garrison, whose violently childish antics they only grudgingly tolerated.

It seemed that most of the village families sent their uncooperative or dangerous sons to work under Takahiro at the garrison in the hopes that he could put some sense in their heads, by force if he had to. Sango wished she and Miroku had known that before she volunteered to join their number.

And, too, she wished that she could go to her fiance. It would have cheered her considerably just to see his face again, she thought, but she had little say in the matter. Her duties as a member of the garrison kept her much busier than she had thought, since many of the men who had been serving longer felt free to dump their responsibilities on her shoulders, and she had Miroku's cover story - and her own - to consider, as well. She hoped he was having better luck than she was.

She had not thought it would be particularly difficult for a female warrior of her skill to be assigned to the group of elite guards dedicated to the Lady's service. Unfortunately, the Lady seemed to have no interest in a female bodyguard. Not even one that had trained all her life in the art of fighting demons.

Every time Sango requested an audience with the Lady, she was denied.

She had never even managed to get so much of a glimpse of the mysterious young woman the village held in such esteem. Whenever the Lady did leave her mansion, which was only on very rare occasions, she went about covered from head to toe in fine clothing, including a veil that covered her head. Sango could not understand the need for such secrecy. Nor could she explain her growing certainty that Kagome was neither guest nor prisoner here, but had for some reason assumed the veiled countenance of the Lady.

Pondering it always gave her a headache. It was easier to think things through when she could bounce her ideas and theories off of Miroku or Father instead of trying to keep them all in her head. But she had not yet reached the end of her perseverance, and spent what little free time she was allotted trying to figure it all out.

And so when one day a handful of the off-duty garrison men interrupted her brief moments of free time, she quickly grew irritated with them. She was already feeling annoyed, and they were making it worse. As soon as she had slid aside the thin door that separated her tiny space from the main room, they crowded around. And their demand only exacerbated the situation.

"Woman, where's our dinner?"

They were drunk. They had to be, to be so bold and impudent as this. Sango scowled, smelling the stench of alcohol on them. How unprofessional, she thought dismissively. "I'm not your servant," she pointed out. They knew full well that several of the village women were employed in providing food - and other 'services' which made Sango frown - for the garrison. "I am a Taijiya."

"Well, dinner's late. And you're not dressed like a Taijiya, you're dressed like a serving woman," another man said.

"On my own time, I will wear whatever I please," she spat out. They should know better. She had already explained, more than once, that a Taijiya spent years earning and making his or her armor. It was a rare and precious possession, not something to be treated casually or worn whenever she pleased. Of course she would wear a simple kosode, just like any other woman, when she was off duty. "The same as any other soldier in this garrison."

Aware through her irritation of the threat these men posed, particularly because they had her cornered, she pushed her way through the small crowd and into the main room of the garrison hut.

"That's better," one of the men slurred. Sango was perfectly willing to ignore this, until he - or one of the others, she did not see which - slapped her on the ass.

That was the last straw.

Sango whirled to face the men, who looked suddenly sheepish in the face of her rage. But whatever shame or sullenness they might have felt quickly faded into petulance. Clearly they had had enough of this upstart woman. Well, she had had just about enough of them, too.

"Do you really think you can bully me into subservience?" she asked, her voice quiet and deadly calm.

She realized too late and with a pang of fear that at least one of these men was armed, while her sword was still in her room. While she was more than capable of fighting unarmed, she knew that her odds against a man with a sword were not great. Especially not when that man was bigger than she was and part of a group. She had let her anger get the better of her, and had attempted to escape without thinking things through. An amateur mistake, but she knew she could - and should - berate herself about it later. Now, she had to keep her attention focused on the situation at hand or risk losing her life.

As if to confirm her worst fears, the man drew his sword and made as if to prod her with it. "Where do you think you're going?"

She evaded the fumbling thrust and easily disarmed him, thumping him soundly on the head with the hilt of his own sword. He fell to his knees, clutching ineffectually at his wounded scalp. "Anyone else want to try my patience?" she demanded.

Unfortunately, they did.

One of the things that Sango had learned long ago was when to stand and fight and when to retreat and regroup. Staring down a half-dozen drunken men with swords (even if one was on his knees and probably no good in a fight) was one of those times that called for retreat. She could fight them... but she did not like the odds. If she had her Hiraikotsu, then maybe she could beat them into submission. But she did not have her Hiraikotsu. She did not even have her own sword.

She thought with distaste that Father would never have allowed such undisciplined and dishonorable behavior among his warriors. But Father was not here, and these men had no respect for the Taijiya. For Sango, who had proved herself the better and more vigilant warrior time and again, who had so effortlessly won the approval of their superior, they held only contempt.

The leader of this little band of miscreants seemed to guess what her next course of action might be. "You leave now and you're officially a deserter, woman," he threatened.

At the moment, Sango did not particularly care. She was not going to stick around so a bunch of drunken, off-duty guardsmen could ravish and bully her and call it loyal service. She had better things to do, like finding a way to get to the Lady of the village. If she could just talk to Kagome, she was certain everything would work itself out.

"Then I am a deserter," she said simply, and took her leave. Or, tried to.

Two men positioned themselves between her and the exit, and the rest were closing in from behind. Sango felt sick. It was true that she was not as helpless as they thought - and having seen her fight they really should have known better than to try to take her on - but the idea of using her skills in earnest on humans was distasteful. Taijiya fought demons, and mostly the pesky non-sentient ones at that, not people.

If Takahiro had not been leading a new patrol at the time, she might have been able to reason with them. Or Takahiro would simply order them to cease such foolish behavior and stand down. But since he was not present, she simply slashed and kicked her way past them and ran, tossing the stolen sword into a ditch as soon as she got a chance. It galled her to leave her armor and weapons behind, but at this point the alternative was worse. Right now her best chance was to escape and hope to find an opportunity later to return for her things. At least this way she would be alive and unharmed.

The worsening weather and the fact that the men had been drinking worked in her favor. They were too stupid to alert the village right away, and too drunk to think of finding a dog to track her. She was certain that once the alcohol's effects wore off they would come to their senses, and then they would be far more dangerous. But in the meantime, she would make a head start for herself and hopefully find somewhere to hole up for the night.

She was lucky; the garrison's base of operations was at the edge of the village. All she had to do to get away was sprint across a couple of fields and into the forest. Since the village's barrier surrounded such a large area, she would be able to lose herself in the forest and wait for things to calm down. Compared to some of the narrow escapes she had made in the past, this seemed positively easy.

It was figuring out what to do from here that was going to be tricky.

-x-

"Why does it have to rain every time I'm on the run?" Sango muttered darkly. It was not entirely true; conditions had been good for the first day or so, though the overcast sky had threatened rain the entire time. It wasn't until her second night on the run that things had taken a real turn for the worse, beginning with an unpleasantly chilly wind that seemed to come from every direction at once.

She was currently sitting high up in a tree, hidden amongst the branches by the darkness of the overcast night and half frozen from the middle-of-the-night chill. She had just managed to find a perch that allowed her to make use of the tree's trunk to block the wind when the sky had finally opened up into a torrential downpour. There was no one around to hear, but it made her feel better to put voice to her ire.

If not for the rain, she probably could have stayed there safely until morning. Now, she was likely to fall and kill herself just from the shivering.

Lightning flashed in the distance, followed by the deep rumble of thunder. That sealed the deal. It was time to get down out of the damn tree before a stray bolt of lightning fried her. Carefully, with nerve-wracking slowness, she descended from the tree. In the pitch darkness, with the rain pouring down and the wind whipping around her, it was no easy task.

With each step downward, she feared she would misremember the way and find herself without a foothold, or that her sandals would slip against the wet bark and she would fall. She lost one sandal along the way, found it easier to grip with her bare feet, and kicked the other one off, too. She would find them when she got to the bottom. If she got to the bottom without falling and killing herself.

Her heart was pounding as if it were ready to leap from her chest at any moment when her feet finally touched the ground. She gave a sigh of relief but knew she did not have time to spare. It had been a while since she had last seen a patrol looking for her, but that did not mean they were not still lurking around.

It took some doing to find her sandals again, but she knew she could not risk leaving evidence behind. Finally, what seemed like an eternity later, she had both sandals in her possession and had set off into the forest. Using whatever paths and trails she could find, she made her way steadily - if circuitously - around the village.

The men probably knew by now that she could not get past the barrier on her own and thus was still hiding somewhere near the village. By now they would probably be using dogs to track her, and although she thought it somewhat strange that she had seen no sign of such a search, she could not have her trail lead straight to Miroku's door. But she could not stand being away from him any longer. She needed a safe place to dry off and plan her next move, and she new he would give her sanctuary. And, more importantly, he would do his best to protect her from the men who were no doubt hunting her. He was good at misleading and deflecting without resorting to violent measures.

She had found her way into the village almost before she had made up her mind, as if her shivering and rain-drenched body had come to its own conclusion. But as she drew closer to the hut that Miroku had made into his home, she felt a pang of worry in her chest. It was that she feared he would be angry with her (she knew he would be angry with her, and rightly so), not exactly. She knew it was stupid, but she would have had to be deaf not to hear the rumors. And she knew Miroku only too well.

There was no way around it: the man had an affinity for women. That much had been obvious from the moment she met him and in the unrepentant and unforgivably familiar way in which he had touched her, a perfect stranger, on their first journey together. Since then he had been nothing if not loyal to her, and she had for the most part been able to let go of her fears regarding his fidelity.

And now that all those fears had come creeping back into her heart, there was nothing to do but face them and hope for the best. She stood shivering in front of his hut for a long time, strangely torn between action and inaction. She did not know what she would do if... if he wasn't alone.

What a fool she had become, she thought derisively. The chill must be addling her brain. She was a Taijiya warrior. Miroku would never find another woman like her, and he would be a fool to squander her affection and the hard-won approval of her village. The Taijiya expected perfect loyalty from any who would join their number; he would not take another woman to his bed just because the opportunity presented itself.

Resolute once more, Sango strode forward. The hut was dark and the door securely covered against the weather; it was the middle of the night and Miroku would be sleeping. She did not dare just sneak inside, so instead she rapped on the wooden door-frame.

For a moment it seemed as if she would have to try harder to wake him, but there came scuffling sounds inside; eventually a lamp – or the hearth fire – flared to life. And then the heavy mat covering the doorway was pushed aside, and she came face to face with Miroku.

"Houshi-sama," she breathed as all the strength went out of her. She had not realized just how much her time as a fugitive had taken out of her until she laid eyes on Miroku. With overwhelming suddenness, weakness washed over her. Her knees buckled, and though she grabbed at the door-frame to keep from falling, she fell anyway, darkness closing in around her.

-x-

Sango awoke shivering. She was practically smothered with warmth, but still felt chilled to the bone. As the moments slid slowly by, the world ceased its maddening spinning and she began to take stock of the situation. She was wrapped in a thick, warm blanket that was blessedly dry. There was a fire close at hand, and Miroku... Miroku was a warm and solid strength at her side, holding her sprawled across his lap.

She wanted to throw her arms around him, to cling to his warmth and let him protect her from anything else that might come after her this night, but she was tangled up in the blanket and could only manage to stir slightly and tilt her head back to look up at him.

"You're half frozen," he murmured. "What were you thinking?" She had only heard his voice take on that odd, strained quality once before. She knew that tone meant he was terrified and, no doubt, angry as well. Then again, she had showed up at his door in the middle of the night looking for all the world like she had come back from the dead, and promptly fainted. It had not been the most brilliant thing to do if she did not want him to be angry with her.

She tried to explain, but all she could get out was a choked moan.

"Don't try to talk yet, and stay quiet. There may still be men looking for you."

Sango squeezed her eyes shut and wanted to cry. This was all so stupid. Why had she obeyed Kikyou's orders and come to this place at all? Why had she come up with such a stupid plan? They should have stuck together instead of trying to go it alone.

"Rest here tonight," Miroku said, as if she had the strength to leave. "We'll figure out what to do in the morning."

A good idea, she thought, because she could barely keep her eyes open.

-x-

Sango woke in the morning to find herself in an unfamiliar bed and utterly alone. It took a long time for her to realize that she was not in her cubby at all, but in Miroku's bed in the hut he had been using in the village. It did not take her much longer to realize that she was naked under the blankets.

She rolled onto her back and opened her eyes. Ignoring the stab of pain in her head that resulted, she took a look around. It was neat and mostly clean, sparsely furnished. Her clothes were hung on a line near the far wall, left to dry by the fire. Miroku was nowhere to be seen.

In a way, she was relieved. But at the same time she was somehow... disappointed that he hadn't stayed with her through the night.

"Stupid," she muttered to herself.

It would have been nice to stay under the covers and enjoy the warmth for a while, but she had a feeling time was a luxury she did not have. The air of the room seemed oppressively cold after the nice, warm bed, but she forced herself to cross it. She fingered the fabric of her clothes in a couple of places to make sure it was dry enough to wear, then got dressed.

She had just finished cleaning up the futon when Miroku returned; a strange young woman accompanied him. Her clothes were finely made and of quality material. It was her appearance that set her apart: hair the color of embers and eyes like new spring leaves. She wore a flower pinned into her hair, and a plain fillet of silvery metal around her head.

She was quite obviously the Lady of the village. But she was not at all what Sango had expected.

"You're not Kagome," she said dumbly.

"No, I'm not. It seems like that's often been my problem," the woman grumbled. She had the strange coloring and unearthly appearance of a demon, even though her form was that of a human. A tai-youkai, then. One of the most powerful - and therefore most dangerous - demons. Sango could not imagine what she was doing playing Lady to a village of pious humans.

"Who are you, then?"

"Ayame."

"So this lead of Kikyou's was a dead-end." Sango groaned. They had wasted a lot of time in this village, and for nothing. She could barely contain her frustration, which was only compounded by the fact that Miroku looked so damnably calm about the whole affair.

"Not quite," the monk said. "Ayame, if you would be so kind as to tell Sango what you told me?"

Ayame scowled. "I was brought here and left behind. By the wolf lord Kouga and a priestess."

"A priestess?"

"Yes," Ayame said, sounding more and more displeased. "A woman in the garb of a priestess, at least. With the skill and power to lift the barrier." Her lips curled into a sneer. "Kouga was always so pleased with her."

It occurred to Sango that, whoever this priestess was, Ayame was jealous of her. Very jealous. Perhaps dangerously so, it was difficult to say.

"What did she look like?" Sango asked. "We are searching for a woman with the powers of a priestess."

"Black hair, like his," Ayame answered, indicating Miroku. Miroku's hair was blue-black in the sunlight, where Sango's bore ruddy tinges. "And funny eyes. Sometimes dark, sometimes light. Never the same twice."

Kagome had a very distinctive appearance, and this description seemed to fit quite closely with what Sango remembered. For the first time in the weeks since she had come to this gods-forsaken village, she felt the spark of hope within her. "And this woman, she was called Kagome?"

Ayame looked downcast. Slowly, she nodded.

"How did Kagome wind up with Kouga?"

Ayame scowled at her. "I don't know. I was supposed to meet Kouga at the designated time and place and go back to the Wolf Clan's lands with him, but he left me here under this stupid barrier so he could run off with that priestess." The wolf demon seemed to radiate pain; Sango realized suddenly that Ayame was actually quite young. Being abandoned in favor of another woman had hurt her deeply.

Sango immediately regretted being so brusque and impatient with her. Taking a gentler tone, she asked, "How did you get to be the Lady of this village? I mean, you're a demon, right? These people are so paranoid about demons... I'm amazed they didn't kill you on sight."

"They assumed I was holy. I mean, it's obvious from looking at me that I'm not human, but I passed through their barrier. So I let them think I was some sort of goddess. They would kill me if they knew what I really was," Ayame explained. "When I heard there was a Taijiya among the guards... I avoided the garrison at all costs because of you. I was afraid that if you saw me, you would blow my cover and tell everyone what I really was."

Sango blinked, struggling to mask indignation. Unfortunately, she had to admit that she probably would have done exactly that, ignorant of the consequences. Trying not to focus on that, she asked instead, "Could you... tell us where we can find this Kouga?"

Ayame looked almost disheartened by the question. "Why should I help you?" she asked. She did not sound particularly malicious... more like a petulant child. "All you want is to help the woman who stole the man who was promised to me."

"Look at it this way," Miroku said, his tone unrepentantly light. "If you help us get Kagome back to her rightful husband, then Kouga is yours for the taking."

"I like your thinking," Ayame replied with a toothy grin. "Yes, I can tell you where to find Kouga. And I'll do one better: I'll take you there myself."

-x-

They hatched an escape plan that afternoon. It was going to take some effort to get Ayame out of the village, particularly if they wanted to do it unnoticed and without incident. But she was also undoubtedly their most valuable resource, since the villagers would obey her mostly without question. Miroku once could have done the same, but now was under close scrutiny. Without his help, the Taijiya deserter would not be able to escape the barrier.

Their one real advantage was that the villagers did not know about Kirara. Ayame promised that she had speed and stamina far beyond the capabilities of a normal human, so if Miroku and Sango could find Kirara and get her to carry them, they would quickly outpace any humans that gave chase. By stealing away the Lady, they would be plunging the village into chaos and running a real risk of starting a conflict, but it could hardly be avoided at this point. Ayame was not only trapped but utterly unhappy with her position, and it was imperative that Kagome be restored to her rightful place.

If she was not... the demons of the West might go to war with the wolves in the north, catching Kikyou and the humans in the middle. And if the demons did not pursue the slight further, then Kagome's relatives would also not be overstepping their rights to go after Kagome themselves. Either way, Sango had no doubt that even the Taijiya would eventually be drawn into the conflict. It was a situation she hoped to avoid, no matter what the cost.

If that meant upsetting the hierarchy of this isolated village, so be it. If that meant she had to go into the heart of the Wolf Clan's territory, then she would do it. She was not particularly keen on the idea of sacrificing her life for the greater good, but to protect Father and Kohaku and the others, she would. But only, she promised herself, if it were truly necessary and there were no other way. First, they would try Ayame's plan to find the wolf leader, Kouga. And Ayame seemed confident that her plan would work, so Sango tried to have faith, too.

Once the plan was settled, the day seemed to drag. They did not dare risk leaving the village before nightfall, when they would easily be spotted, but the waiting did not sit well with Sango. She did not have Miroku's knack for patience and serenity; she itched for confrontation. She needed to do something. It was still a while before sunset when the solution hit her.

She had left her armor and most of her weapons behind when she fled the garrison. It would be a dishonor to her family, her heritage, and herself as a Taijiya to abandon the armor she had worked so hard to earn. She couldn't leave it behind. Someone would have to go get it.

She broached the subject carefully, half expecting Miroku and Ayame to forbid it, but they seemed to agree with her. The armor could not be left behind. It was far too valuable. Sango had traveled and fought without it before, but she felt much safer when she had both the armor and the arsenal of secret weapons that were hidden within it - poisons and antidotes, salves and blades.

"If they haven't destroyed it already," Miroku mused, "there is still no good way to obtain it. We can't just walk in and demand its return."

"If they've destroyed it, I'll kill them all myself," Sango muttered darkly. She had spent years earning the right to wear that armor.

"You can't, but I can," Ayame said. "They already know I'm here. I told them I was taking spiritual council with the monk. It won't be suspicious if I leave and return home," she said the word with a shudder and a dark look that said her mansion was anything but 'home', "and I can slip out again any time I want. The stupid humans can't catch me. And the garrison takes orders from me. They'll give the armor up if I tell them to. They won't like it... but if the Lady commands it, they'll do it. Wait here."

Her tone brooked no argument and she was gone almost as soon as she had finished speaking. She truly did move with superhuman grace and speed.

When she was gone, Sango glanced at Miroku. She was beginning to see why the otherworldly woman had been so easily accepted as the Lady of the village. Ayame was certainly charismatic when she wanted to be. Combined with her intriguing appearance, there was no doubt she could be quite intimidating, too. Still... "Can we trust her to do this?"

"As much as we can trust anyone, I should think."

"How did you know she would see you? When you went to the Lady's mansion, I mean. It's heavily guarded at all times... Most of the garrison isn't even allowed near." She tried not to let her bitterness at her failure in her mission show in her voice. Miroku had succeeded so easily where she had utterly failed.

"I took a risk," he said, shrugging. "Climbed over the wall and snuck into her bedchamber."

On another day his apparent skill at such sneaking might have earned an angry outburst, or at least a sour look, but not on this day. "You could have been killed."

He turned, taking her by the shoulders and meeting her gaze. "Sango. I couldn't just do nothing. You showed up at my door in the middle of the night, half-frozen and incoherent. I've been afraid for you all day. Do you think I didn't hear the rumors?"

She could only stare at him, fighting back tears. She had not stopped to consider what he might think of the situation.

"People gossip. I listen. It's what I do." She knew that already. Tongues were often loose around monks, assuming that holy men would not trouble themselves with the affairs of more mundane people, and Miroku put whatever knowledge he could gain that way to good use. He had saved her entire village that way once.

"It was the single hardest thing I have ever done, not to go looking for you when I heard that the Taijiya woman had deserted, that the guards were hunting you. I had hoped you would come here sooner."

"I'm sorry," she breathed.

"You make it so easy," he went on, "to forget that you are only one person. I let you go into the garrison and it never once occurred to me, not really, that you might wind up in over your head. I know you grew up fighting alongside the men, and that you know how to handle yourself. But one person can only do so much."

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "If I'd known... if I had known these men were nothing but thugs, I would never have gone anywhere near them."

"I know." He glanced around quickly to make sure they were still alone, and pulled her into an embrace. She leaned against him, drawing emotional strength from him. He was warm and solid and steadfast beside her, and she knew that if he could be strong, then she could be, too.

Her sentimentality did not last long. "This really isn't the time," she quipped irritably, removing his hands from where they had insinuated themselves against her bottom. Miroku sighed piteously, though he did not resist or protest when she pried his hands away. "Later," she promised, and his expression brightened considerably.

After that it seemed to Sango that an unbearably long time passed before Ayame returned. She had just begun to worry in earnest – that Takahiro had lost control of the garrison, or that her hiding place had been discovered, or someone had finally realized what Ayame truly was - when the young wolf demon returned. She brought many things with her, among them supplies of food for several days and a bundle wrapped in familiar cloth: Sango's armor and pack.

"So they didn't destroy it," Sango murmured, glad to have her armor back in her possession. She sifted carefully through the pack's contents, pleased to find that everything was still in its proper place and that nothing was missing or damaged.

"Takahiro stands as your ally still," Ayame informed her. "He continues to protest your innocence, despite the claims of his men. He has recalled the patrols and would not allow your armor or weapons to be destroyed. He was reluctant even to give them over to me."

Sango was strangely moved by his faith in her. "I'm... I'm glad he doesn't believe them," she said. She might never see him again after this, but she would remember him fondly and hoped he would do the same for her.

"Takahiro... the garrison commander?" Miroku was frowning, most likely trying to place the name.

"Yes," Ayame confirmed. "I gather he was quite taken with Sango before, well..."

"Ha!" Miroku exclaimed triumphantly.

Sango glowered at him. "This is not the time for your antics," she informed him tersely. "It wasn't like that."

Ayame's expression grew more and more perplexed.

Sango tried, vainly, to clear things up for her. "The last time I was sent on a mission, he," and here she pointed accusingly at Miroku, "followed me home like a lovesick puppy. Now he's convinced himself that I make a point of ensnaring some hapless man every time I leave my village."

"Do you?" Ayame asked.

"What? No!" Sango protested, aware that Miroku was by now quite amused at her expense. "I don't even know what to do with this one man that insists on following me around and declaring his love for me. How would I manage with a dozen or more?"

The look Ayame gave her was skeptical, but nothing more was said of it. They had other things to do.

-x-

Ayame led the way that night, trusting Miroku and Sango to follow her through the darkened countryside. Her demonic senses helped them to navigate without creating a ruckus. And, once they passed the barrier, she was able to lead them to Kirara without much fuss. The cat demon was less than pleased at having a canine tai-youkai added to the group, but seemed satisfied that at least both of her human companions had returned intact.

Miroku was certain that the villagers would know when they passed through the barrier, and where holy magic was involved Sango was always inclined to believe him, but Ayame was confident that they would not be followed. At least, not in any way that they could not outrun with her enhanced speed and with Kirara carrying the humans. And since Kirara was well-rested and Ayame's endurance far exceeded that of any human, the could make a good start that very night, rather than waiting for daylight. For her part, Sango decided that she was at least grateful that they would not have to walk; she was still feeling withdrawn and out of sorts after her escape from the garrison.

Sometime during the course of their night flight, Kirara and Ayame formed an unspoken truce and what tension had been present between cat and wolf demon at their first meeting soon melted away.

They pressed on as far as they dared that first night, stopping briefly after dawn to give the humans a chance to sleep before moving on. Their path meandered a bit, but Ayame always guided them inexorably northward. This was far enough from home that Sango was seeing places she had only heard of in stories: the great northern mountains, which rose up taller and more precipitously than their southern brethren. It was in the many mountain caves of this area that the majority of the wolf demons of Ayame's clan dwelt. And it was here, she reassured them, that they would find Kagome and her captor.

The northern mountains were harsh at this time of year, though not as harsh as they would be in a few weeks, when winter would descend in earnest and the paths would be impassable, thick with ice. Ayame hardly seemed to notice, but without Kirara's warmth the two humans would have suffered greatly. Their travel arrangements allowed them to make exceptionally good time, arriving at their destination only a couple of days after beginning their trek into the mountains; the humans only had to spend a single night huddled against Kirara for warmth, a night that left Sango blushing and Miroku smirking mischievously.

They departed from their sheltered campsite with the dawn, weary and stiff with cold. As the morning went on, the weather grew no better. Sango wore her kosode over her Taijiya armor, but the layers did little to help stave off the chill. Clouds loomed overhead and Sango worried that it might snow. But luck seemed to be with them, and the threatening clouds did no more than threaten.

For all her skill in the familiar mountains of home, Sango was already hopelessly lost. Luckily, Ayame seemed to know just what she was looking for. Miroku and Sango needed only to follow where she led, a task which was made much easier by Kirara's assistance - they did not need to watch their footing when they were flying above the narrow, winding path.

It was nearly midday before anything began to look different from the endless tracts of mountains they had been crossing.

"Look," Miroku said, leaning close to speak directly into Sango's ear so she could hear him, "I see a cave."

She followed his gaze and nodded. There was an enormous cave entrance up the slope, and that seemed to be what Ayame was heading for. The ledge immediately below the entrance was strewn with bones and offal; the place smelled atrocious, even at a distance and in the thin mountain air. As they drew closer, a pair of wolves emerged and, seeing the approaching intruders, retreated back into the cave.

"It's safe to say they know we're here," Sango muttered. Miroku, who was still pressed a great deal closer to her than he absolutely needed to be, nodded his agreement.

Ayame did not so much as pause before entering the cave. She strode forward with such an air of authority that Sango had a hard time reconciling this as the same petulant girl who had been so frustrated with Kouga for abandoning her. Whispers flew through the cave around her, turning darker as the humans were noticed.

"Ayame has returned. And she has brought prey with her. An offering for Lord Kouga!"

Sango's blood ran cold to hear talk of human prey, but she forced herself to show no fear. These were no ordinary wolves, and she had no doubt that they would sense - and capitalize upon - the slightest indication of fear or weakness in their visitors. She was certain they would have no compunction against killing humans. And, if the whispers that echoed in the cave could be believed, eating them.

"Kouga!" Ayame shouted, her voice shrill and sharp. "Kouga, I demand an audience!"

"What do you want, Ayame? I thought I left you where you couldn't cause any more trouble," a male voice, deep and growly, emerged from somewhere in the darkness of the cave. He sounded almost... bored.

"Come and face me, Kouga," she goaded. "Take responsibility for what you have done."

"I've never denied responsibility for anything," Kouga said lazily. He stepped into the circle of light: a tall, powerful tai-youkai clad in furs and armor. He looked unconcerned, as if Ayame and the humans were of no consequence to him. Then again, they probably weren't.

It was all Sango could do to keep her hand from gripping the hilt of her sword.

"Kouga of the Wolf Clan, I say before the Pack that you have no honor," Ayame announced.

Kouga's ice-blue eyes turned frighteningly cold. Sango almost feared that he would strike them all down where they stood.

"You have stolen a human woman from her chosen husband and claimed her for your own," Ayame went on, undeterred. "You have forsaken the wolf demon woman you promised yourself to, and you have hidden yourself away in this cave with your prize. Where has the bold leader of the Wolf demon tribe gone? Where is your pride? Where is your honor?"

"It's all right here, Ayame. I'm well within my rights as the Clan's leader to take whoever I choose to mate. And since I did not choose you, it's none of your concern," Kouga growled.

"It's not my concern that my betrothed chose another woman and dumped me beside the road wherever it was handy? That he now leads my tribe into folly and cowardice?" Ayame pressed, stepping closer. She would have looked a great deal fiercer if she didn't have to crane her neck to look up at him, Sango thought. But she knew as well as the wolves did that this argument was in deadly earnest. The power dynamic of this wolf pack could change dramatically within a very short time if Ayame succeeded in regaining her place here.

"I do no such thing. It is not your place to make such accusations." Kouga watched Ayame carefully as he spoke. Sango was beginning to think that the two would start circling each other, snarling and snapping like animals, at any moment.

"You will bring war upon our tribe," Ayame insisted. At Kouga's disbelieving look, she added, "I am here to see to it that does not happen."

Quietly to Miroku, and without thinking of the consequences, Sango added, "Of course, the point is moot if Kagome's already dead."

"Hey, think before you insult me, wench," Kouga muttered angrily. Sango grimaced, realizing immediately that she should never have made such a flippant remark, even under her breath, around a demon with a sense of hearing far keener than her own. "I would never harm my woman."

"She's not your woman," Ayame said bluntly. "She was wed to Inuyasha and you stole her by trickery, even though you were promised to another."

"That mangy mutt never deserved her," Kouga retorted.

Ayame bristled, but her ire had nothing to do with the slight to Inuyasha. "And what about me, Kouga? What about your dream of a unified wolf demon tribe, a tribe that could rise above this fragmented existence? You'll throw that away to bed some human girl?"

"Taking Kagome to mate can bring us peace with the humans."

Stealing a married woman from her husband and her people could only result in strife. Surely even a brute like Kouga knew that. And Ayame was not about to let such ill-thought reasoning stand without a fight. "Kouga, what you have done will bring the Wolf Clan nothing but trouble. We will be lucky if the humans choose not to bring war to our door when we give their woman back."

"Feh, if this is all the humans sent, she can't be that valuable to them," Kouga sneered, gesturing derisively toward where Miroku and Sango stood.

"These are the first!" Ayame exclaimed furiously. "If these two do not succeed, there will be more. First they will try diplomacy, but if that fails there will be war. And don't think they won't find you. They found me, even in that hellhole where you left me for dead."

"Even if you're telling the truth, I'm the one that leads the Wolf Clan." The response was blunt, if apathetic. It was strange to see a man – tai-youkai, she reminded herself – claim to hold such strong feelings for Kagome, yet care so little for the repercussions of his actions.

"Then fight me, Kouga, and we'll see who leads this pack."

Several wolves snarled at the challenge, and the more human members of the Wolf Clan drew a surprised breath, almost as one. Sango glanced to Miroku, but quickly shifted her gaze back to Kouga and Ayame.

"Have you ever seen two tai-youkai fight?" Miroku breathed.

Sango shook her head ever so slightly. Tai-youkai were elusive creatures, generally avoiding contact with humans even when they ventured into human lands. Occasionally a human woman would be chosen to be the bride of some demon dignitary or other, but for the most part such demons were a mystery to humans, even Taijiya.

Still, she knew enough to know that this would be a battle to see, both terrifying and awesome. Neither Kouga nor Ayame was a warrior to be taken lightly. For the two of them to do battle... To be utterly honest with herself, Sango had never before felt quite so weak and powerless as she did in the company of these great demons, not even in the Western court. Then again, the Western demons at least pretended to be civilized.

The wolves did not even bother with that pretense. They had their own customs, and those were all they adhered to. Still...

"Wait!"

Both tai-youkai - and all the lesser wolves in the cave - turned to look at Sango, their expressions anything but friendly. Summoning all of her courage, knowing that these demons in these numbers were out of her league, Sango went on, "Bring Kagome forward first. I... I won't stand for war within the Wolf Clan for a woman who is not alive and well."

Ayame's eyes glinted darkly. "Yes, Kouga. Bring the bitch out of your den for all to see, if you're so proud of your conquest."

With a half-stifled snarl of impatience, Kouga retreated deeper into the cave. Ayame watched impassively as he went, her expression betraying nothing to the observing humans.

Kouga returned a short while later, with a disheveled human figure in tow. Kagome kept her eyes downcast as he led her from the smaller cave. She was almost unrecognizable.

Sango certainly had never seen her in such a condition, even on the worst days of their last journey together. The Princess was clad not in a many-layered silk kimono but in tattered furs, her hair a mess and her face faintly smudged with dirt. Her complexion was slightly sallow, as if she had not been eating well. And considering the eating habits of wolves, she probably had not. If she knew what had been going on in the main hall before her arrival, she gave no sign of it. Kouga kept a firm grip on her arm, shoving her gently toward a waiting cluster of wolves.

"There's your proof. The woman lives," he announced. His wolves paced and snuffled their way around the Princess as he spoke.

Only when he had turned back to his challenger did Kagome look up. When she caught sight of Sango and Miroku her eyes grew bright with hope, restoring a semblance of the Kagome Sango knew and removing any doubt that she might be in this place of her own will.

"Kagome," Ayame said, her tone cold. "I may not like you one bit, but this is no place for a human woman. Leave it to me; I'll send you home."

"Thank you," Kagome murmured, bowing respectfully. If she was aware of the honor that had just been bestowed upon her, Ayame did not show it. The tai-youkai was all business, her attention focused solely on Kouga.

Sango would have thought that wolf demons might fight without weapons or finesse, as they lacked the refined clothing and behavior of the other tai-youkai she had met, but she was wrong. She quickly gathered that there was a formal ritual, of sorts, that existed for challenges of this nature. The opposing parties would fight one another, with the belief being that the guardians of the Clan would grant victory to the party in the right. As current leader of the Wolf Clan, Kouga had access to an arsenal of ancient, powerful weapons for use in such battles. The challenger, in this case Ayame, appeared to have no such advantage.

Nonetheless, she was more than capable of giving Kouga a run for his money. It was immediately apparent to Sango that Ayame's boasting had not been mere bravado. She might be disadvantaged by the long claw-like blades Kouga wore on one of his arms – a strange weapon, to be sure – but she did not betray any nervousness because of it. Rather, she seemed to fight all the more viciously, making full use of her strength and swiftness as soon as Kouga made a move toward her. Kouga's fighting style was devoted more toward offense, making good use of the extended range the metal claws gave him in which to attack. Ayame, by contrast, spent most of her time evading his blows, striking few of her own.

Strange though it seemed to Sango, Ayame must actually care for Kouga. At the very least she wanted to bring peace and unity to the wolf demons, and was willing to fight to keep Kouga from making more trouble - and from straying. Sango was just glad she only had to count on Ayame to win, and did not have to understand any of it.

Sango's thoughts were interrupted by Miroku's sudden sharp intake of breath. Somehow while she let her mind wander, Ayame had managed to get through Kouga's defenses to grapple with him. Kouga had to be the stronger of the two, being the larger and more visibly muscular, but he could not seem to break free from her grip. After an intense struggle, one of his legs buckled slightly and he dropped to one knee. He snarled fiercely and tried to shake her off, but Ayame only tightened her trip.

"Take your Princess and go," she said to the humans, grunting as she struggled to maintain her hold on the recalcitrant Kouga. "You are under my protection now, and so long as I lead the Wolf Clan you need not fear us."

Miraculously, the wolves that had clustered so closely around Kagome obeyed the command and spread out to give her room to pass. She hardly seemed to believe her luck as she made her way to where Miroku and Sango were waiting. The humans chorused their thanks to Ayame before making a swift retreat - a retreat accompanied by baleful glares of the watching wolves and a piteous cry from Kouga. Their expressions might be angry, but not a single wolf made a move against the humans. Miroku ushered Kagome and Sango out of the cave, making sure to stay between them and the lingering danger of the wolves. Sango did not complain even though he was blocking her view behind them. If he wanted to put himself between her and the wolves, she was not going to stop him.

It seemed to take forever to get out of the cave even though it was only a short distance from the central chamber to the exit. Kouga's shouts, promises that he would come after Kagome as soon as he dealt with Ayame, echoed behind them. And even when they were finally free of the cave, there was no time to catch their breath. They had to leave now, just in case Ayame failed in her bid to become leader of the Wolf Clan.

"Kagome, you ride on Kirara," Sango instructed, her stomach churning. There was no sign that they were being followed yet, or that they would be followed at all, but she still felt they would need as much of a head start as they could get. And since Kagome seemed inclined to linger, wanting no doubt to make sure that Ayame came out on top and peace was restored, someone had to take charge and get things moving. "If they come after us, she can outrun them, or fly out of reach."

"But, Sango," Kagome protested.

"You're the important one here," Sango assured her. She hated to say it, but could not keep from thinking it: Miroku and I are expendable. "If there's trouble, we can fight our way out. But you need to be able to escape quickly."

"She's right," Miroku agreed. "I trust Ayame to do what she can, but if Kouga is determined to have you, there may not be a lot that she can do to help us."

"He wouldn't hurt me," Kagome murmured sadly, her gaze focused on the ground before her. "He never wanted to hurt me. He took me because he thought Inuyasha and the demons of the Western court didn't deserve a woman like me." But she did not elaborate any further.

Sango bit her tongue against the bevy of questions that she wanted to ask. Now was neither the time nor the place to question Kagome; she was not even sure it would ever be her place to question one of Kagome's station, no matter how intense her own curiosity. She hoped fervently that Kikyou had been wrong, and that Kagome's purported crime against her husband was somehow just a misunderstanding... that she was delivering her friend to redemption, not punishment. She simply could not imagine sweet, kind Kagome imprisoning - much less slaying - the man she loved so much.

"Well, if nothing else," Miroku advised with a sudden cheerfulness as the path narrowed dangerously ahead of them, "by riding Kirara you'll avoid slipping on this path and breaking your neck."

That settled it, and Kagome rode on Kirara's back without complaint for the rest of the day. Their pace was considerably slower than when they had been following Ayame to the wolf demon tribe; Sango and Miroku were far more fragile than the wolf demons, and had to carefully pick their way along the path rather than darting swiftly along or leaping from ledge to ledge. A fall here might bruise a wolf demon, but it could kill a human. And Sango wasn't ready to die now, not if she didn't have to.

So they trudged on carefully for the rest of the day, stopping when the light grew too dim to see by. They had no fuel for a fire and only a little food left - not enough, Miroku confided, to see them comfortably out of the mountains - so they spent the night hungry, curled up against Kirara's warm bulk.

It went on like that for several days, the small band persevering through rumbling bellies and long days of walking until at last the paths widened and leveled off enough that Kirara could be sent ahead to hunt for food.

They decided to delay for a day when they reached the last of the foothills and stumbled upon a sheltered spot near the edge of a stand of trees that had a stream running through it. The abundance of fresh water was a joy after the rationing they had endured in the mountains, and Miroku set up several fishing lines; in the meantime, Sango set Kirara to hunt and laid snares of her own, a process that Kagome watched with interest.

Sango explained it as best she could, adding that if Kirara had left anything alive in this part of the country they would have something to eat tonight. Kagome added, eyes downcast, that there were mushrooms in this forest that were tasty and free of poisons.

Sango glanced at her askance - wondering just how much of a prisoner Kagome had been during her time with the wolves - and did not ask how the Princess knew this. It was, she told herself firmly, none of her business. Kagome would have to explain herself to Kikyou, and then to her husband... if he was still alive.

It pained her more than she had thought it would, to know that Inuyasha was suffering or dead. She barely knew the man, but he had saved her life once. Phantom pain spread outward from the large scar in her back at the memory of that fateful journey, as it always did when she thought of Inuyasha. It was only through his generosity that she had survived. And, more than that, he had treated her as a comrade in arms, an equal and a friend in spite of her lowly status as a human. She had earned that privilege by bringing his love to him, alive when everyone else charged with her safety had died from Naraku's machinations.

Sango sighed. She was dying to ask Kagome about what had happened after she left the Western palace, about the sacred arrow that rumor said held Inuyasha in an enchanted sleep. She knew she couldn't ask, that it wasn't her place, but that did not stop her from being curious. And the Princess's withdrawn demeanor and obvious reticence only made Sango's burgeoning curiosity even worse. Everything had been fine when Sango departed the western lands so many months ago, but somehow in the interim it had all gone wrong.

But rather than indulge herself, Sango let Kagome dictate the course of their conversation, enduring an endless stream of small talk so placidly that Miroku would have been proud. They gradually worked their way back toward the campsite, checking each of the traps Sango had set as they went; each snare was still empty, though considering how recently they had been set that was not surprising.

They had some time to sit and relax a bit in the afternoon. Miroku busied himself with hunting for firewood, weaving back and forth along the edges of the clearing where they were camped. Sango and Kagome sat together, mostly in silence, but sometimes talking idly about the weather or other inconsequentials. Sango drew upon reserves of patience she had not touched since her brief stint as Kagome's bodyguard a year earlier, reminding herself that this was how things were at court: everyone talked constantly, but no one ever said anything important, or told anyone else the things they really needed or wanted to hear.

Sango wasn't paying particular attention to where the conversation was going or where Miroku was or what he was doing, until Kagome made an observation that took her completely by surprise.

"I'm so glad you two finally got married," she said suddenly, though her tone was far closer to glum than cheerful. She was obviously thinking about Inuyasha.

"Well, actually," Sango murmured, hoping Miroku would not hear the turn their conversation had taken, "we aren't married yet. Miroku and my father had just... come to an agreement on the terms of our marriage when Kikyou's men arrived to tell us what had happened to you." That last part wasn't true, of course, but she was not going to tell Kagome how her sister's men had lied to ensure Sango's cooperation.

"That's awful!"

"I'm not happy about it, but it's far from the worst thing that could have happened," Sango said, doing her best to be diplomatic about the situation.

"But you're in love," Kagome protested; Sango wondered privately what that had to do with anything. "You should be married!"

"We will be," Sango insisted, determined to believe that. "Just not yet. But see? He's still beside me, even so."

The next thing she knew, Kagome had flung herself across her lap and was sobbing into her shoulder. When Miroku realized what was going on, he came over to give Sango's shoulder what she guessed he felt was a reassuring squeeze and then promptly made himself scarce. She barely noticed at first, being too preoccupied with Kagome. She felt completely at a loss, but if Kagome noticed she gave no sign of it. She only clung closer when Sango tried to pull away, until the Taijiya sighed helplessly and endured it.

Sango slowly realized why Miroku had withdrawn. If she were in Kagome's position, she was not entirely sure she would have wanted him around, either. She would prefer him not to see her red-faced, bleary-eyed, and stuffy-nosed unless it was absolutely necessary. Still, she wished he had stayed. He was so much better at dealing with people, particularly those overwhelmed by fear or pain or sorrow, than she was.

And yet her ineptitude seemed to be enough to soothe the Princess; slowly but surely her sobs quieted until they were little more than trembles. After what seemed like an eternity, Kagome succumbed to sleep.

Unwilling to spend the night as the Princess's pillow, Sango carefully shifted Kagome onto the ground. She retrieved a small blanket, which she folded up and placed under the Princess's head. Knowing the routine well, Kirara promptly transformed and laid down beside Kagome. Her body would block the wind and provide much-needed warmth.

With Kagome finally settled and trusting to Kirara to stand watch in her stead, Sango carefully headed out into the forest in the direction Miroku had gone. She did not have to go far to find him; he would not stray far from the safety of the camp in unfamiliar territory in the dark. He was standing in a sheltered spot beside a large tree, staring up through the thinned canopy at a sky filled with thousands of glittering stars.

Sango hugged her arms around her middle and shivered. In the darkness, with the light of moon and stars casting his solitary figure into silhouette, Miroku looked so very lonely. She almost couldn't help but come closer.

"Houshi-sama," she said, gently, making sure he knew she was there.

He turned, then shifted, accommodating her as she came to stand beside him. "You left Kagome alone?" he asked, his tone ever so slightly betraying his curiosity.

"She's sleeping," Sango told him. "Kirara is with her."

"Did she tell you anything?" He sounded almost as if he didn't really care; somehow, that irritated Sango. But she bit down on that emotion, knowing that now was not the time to argue.

"No," she told him. "But whatever happened, she's not happy about it. She just cried and cried until she fell asleep."

"She'll feel better in the morning then."

Sango nodded. "I hope so."

Kagome might feel better after her emotional purging, but Sango felt rubbed raw inside. She had comforted other women among the Taijiya from time to time, when a husband or brother or son came home injured - or did not come home at all - but it never got any easier for her. While there were some women in the village that thrived on such comfort-giving, who always said exactly the right condolences, Sango had always preferred action - seeking vengeance for the fallen or helping to build the altar-grave where the ashes would be interred after the funeral.

Miroku gently tucked an arm around her waist and pulled her close against him. She did not resist. It was nice to have a moment together after spending so much time on the road in the company of others. "Kagome is sleeping. We wouldn't bother her if we went back to the camp now."

Miroku's voice was soft and gentle. "Let's stay here a while longer."

With just the two of them, the dark forest all around and the soft moon in the sky, it felt like they were the only two people in the whole world.

"Yes," Sango breathed.

Suddenly it didn't seem so cold.

-x-

It felt as if the journey would never end. They had come much farther than it had seemed at first, and they had been traveling much more quickly when they went north. Returning now at a walking pace felt like crawling by comparison. And that feeling was only compounded when they had to pause several times to give Miroku a chance to barter, but at least he was able to obtain better supplies of food and a set of decent, if ill-fitting clothing for Kagome.

Thankfully, Sango's curiosity began to wane in the face of the seemingly unending journey. She found herself growing less concerned with the secret details of Kagome's adventure, which were perhaps better left to those directly involved, than with the idea of going home and - finally! - marrying Miroku and getting on with her life. It had been a long trek, but the end was nearly in sight. And somehow that made it all more bearable.

As they drew closer and closer to the capital word of the Princess's safe return flew ahead of them, along with tales of her kidnapping which Miroku spread carefully so as not to compromise the truth of the Princess's identity, and a royal reception awaited them when they finally entered the great city. There were people everywhere, nobles and peasants alike greeting them with shouts and cheers, and festivities of all kinds sprung up in the streets; it seemed Kikyou could be quite generous when she wanted to be.

The effect was mostly lost on Sango, who felt ready to drop dead from exhaustion and perceived most of the celebration simply as noise. She managed to keep from yawning or collapsing as they made their way down the broad avenue to the palace, a fact which would have made Father proud, at least. But Miroku picked up on her weariness even so; she caught him glancing at her more than once, worry written across his face.

For him, she could manage a small smile. He seemed momentarily reassured, but the worry never left his eyes. And then they were whisked into the palace by an armored escort, and there was no more time for private moments. Kikyou was waiting.

And, in fact, she was waiting for them immediately inside the palace gates. For once she showed true enthusiasm; she was exceedingly eager to welcome her younger sister home - and to begin to set things to right.

In the chaos that followed the sisters' reunion, there suddenly seemed to be even more people everywhere than there had been a moment ago. Out of the corner of one eye, Sango caught sight of Kagome speaking in a quick private whisper with her sister, but paid the exchange little mind. Of course Kagome would want to explain what had happened to Kikyou. And it seemed only natural that the sisters would be glad to see one another after all this time.

And now that Kagome was back where she belonged, Sango hoped that her part in this was done and that she and Miroku would be allowed to return to the Taijiya village. A few days ago, Sango would have liked to find out what had happened to Kagome to put her in Kouga's clutches in the first place, but now she realized she was too tired to care. What she really wanted was a good night's sleep and a chance to go home.

As if sensing her growing impatience and exhaustion, Miroku made his way to her side. And as always, his presence had a calming, reassuring effect on her. She trusted him not to let her get in over her head, or at least to catch her should she do something as fabulously improper as stumble or sway.

After giving the crowd a few moments in which to settle down, Kikyou made a pretty speech about the treachery that had befallen her sister, and how it had been averted by the Taijiya Sango and monk Miroku. Embarrassed at having the Princess announce her name like that before the peers of the realm, Sango unconsciously moved a little closer to Miroku. He surreptitiously slipped an arm around her waist to tug her closer, encouraging her to lean into him.

"Do you think she'll let us go now?" he asked quietly as Kikyou finished her speech, his expression suggesting that he did not quite believe that she would be done with them yet.

Sango rested her head against his shoulder and sighed. "I hope so. I'm ready to go home."

"I had thought to have a word with those responsible for my sister's safe return, but instead I find that their behavior is highly inappropriate," Kikyou commented dryly from quite nearby. Sango had not even noticed her approach, and quickly stepped away from Miroku, her cheeks burning with shame at having been caught in a compromising position. The elder Princess turned to her guardsmen, a wry look upon her face, and ordered, "This must be rectified immediately. Remove them from my sight."

Sango bristled. She made to protest - after everything we've done! - but Miroku's serene expression gave her pause. She had a feeling he had the right idea. Whatever Kikyou had in mind, this would go much more smoothly, and probably would not end in their untimely demise, if they just went quietly. Still, she couldn't help but sulk as she allowed the guards to escort her into the palace. Inside, the guards split into two groups, taking her one way and Miroku another.

She had no reason to feel betrayed or upset, because it was inarguable that she and Miroku had not been behaving with the strictly proper decorum required in the presence of royalty. But she had been so sure that Kikyou liked her and Miroku that it hurt to be reprimanded, and for something so minor as allowing her fiance to put an arm around her in public. It hurt more to be separated from Miroku, and her exhaustion was not helping matters any. In fact, she was not paying enough attention to her surroundings to realize what was going on until the guards deposited her into a small chamber filled with tittering, smiling women.

She felt both numb and aghast as they guided her into a smaller, adjoining chamber that turned out to be a private bath. She had never had servants at her disposal before, but tried her best to shrug off her self-consciousness and discomfort as they helped her disrobe and scrub away the lingering grime of the road. In spite of everything, and her growing confusion as to what was going on, it was a blessing to be clean.

It occurred to her as the servants were helping her towel dry that Kikyou had been making some sort of joke when she had ordered Miroku and Sango forcibly removed from her sight. Kikyou had some sense of humor, Sango thought darkly, feeling not the least bit amused herself.

When one of the women brought a soft cotton robe for her to wear and two others busied themselves with her hair, Sango could stand it no longer. "What is all this fuss about?" she demanded, only realizing after her outburst that her tone had been quite rude, even ungrateful.

Her rudeness did not seem to bother any of the women, though a couple of them laughed, hiding giggles discreetly behind their hands.

"Your wedding, Lady Taijiya," one of them informed her.

"My wedding," Sango said, faltering.

"Yes," the woman said, nodding enthusiastically. "For you and that handsome young monk of yours."

The first thought that managed to form in Sango's dumbstruck head was: Oh, no, Father will not be pleased if we get married behind his back. The second thought was that she did not have much of a say in the matter, as it was not exactly wise to turn down the sitting regent of one's kingdom.

"Princess Kikyou says it's only fitting for heroes of the realm to get the royal treatment," one of the other women added.

Heroes of the realm... Sango felt numb inside. She didn't consider herself a hero; she was just a Taijiya, just a person that did what needed to be done. But amidst the fussing of the women, and being forced to drink a bitter restorative brew, Sango quickly forgot her shock.

When at last one of the women held up a small hand-mirror to show her the results of their work, she could only stare at her reflection. She had never looked so feminine and, dare she say, pretty in her life. Most of the time she got by with no makeup at all, or a small touch of pink on the lids of her eyes. She secretly considered the heavy makeup worn by noblewomen to be rather gaudy, but these servant women had managed to hide the worst of her exhaustion while highlighting the best features of her face. It wasn't gaudy. It was anything but that. She had no words for it, just nodded silent gratitude and tried not to cry.

Speaking in soothing tones, the eldest of the servant women urged her to look beyond the makeup, and see what wonders they had wrought with her hair and clothes. She had suffered her hair to be pulled into a delicate, ornate style like this only once; her mother had done it for her when the village celebrated Kohaku's first birthday. After Mother died that winter, Sango had always worn her hair in a simple tail. Seeing it so beautifully arranged now reminded her with a pang that she wished her mother could see her now, see the strong Taijiya woman she had become. She liked to think Mother would be proud.

"Don't cry, dear," the servant woman chided, carefully brushing away a tear. "You'll ruin all our hard work, and that wouldn't be fair to us or to your monk."

"You're a vision, Lady Taijiya," one of the younger women chirped happily. Sango imagined that between the hair and makeup and the expensive silk kimono she was wearing, she did look quite fine. "I'd never have thought a warrior could be so pretty!"

"Now, that's not very nice," the first woman reprimanded sternly. "You must learn to be more polite."

"No," Sango protested. "She's right. I've never looked - or felt! - so beautiful in my life. Thank you. All of you."

Having decided that their work was done and Sango was as beautified as possible, the women ushered her back into the hallway, where two guards in elaborate formal armor were waiting to escort her. She felt suddenly nervous as they guided her down the hall. Their progress seemed painfully slow, but the guards knew better than to show any impatience, taking slow, small steps so that Sango could keep up without tripping over the long silk kimono.

Finally, they arrived at the royal audience chamber where Sango and Miroku had first encountered Kikyou. It seemed to Sango that years had passed since she had last set foot in that room, although in truth it had only been a short while. It looked much different today. In front of the throne where Kikyou sat there was an altar; there was a priest in attendance, as well, and... Miroku.

Sango's breath caught in her throat the moment she laid eyes on him. No less effort had been spent grooming him for this moment than had gone into her own preparations. She had to admit, he looked a lot better now that he had cleaned up a bit. And the fine silk clothes he was wearing... she flushed slightly as her mind leaped ahead, fervently imagining what would happen after the wedding.

Forcing herself to tear her gaze away from Miroku before her thoughts got too far ahead of her, Sango discreetly looked around the room. There were only a handful of people in attendance, mostly to serve as witnesses. One of them was Kagome. Another, a young boy, must have been Prince Souta. Sango had never met him before, but he looked a lot like his sisters. Kikyou was there, too, looking smugly pleased with herself lest there be any doubt as to who had orchestrated the night's festivities.

Much to Sango's surprise, Kikyou also intended to preside over the wedding ceremony itself. It was a little known fact that Kikyou was even more accomplished in her religious studies and abilities than her sister, but of those present no one questioned her right to act as the officiating priestess.

She guided Miroku and Sango through vows of fidelity and honor, and called upon the gods and the spirits of their ancestors to bless the union. They sipped the ceremonial rice wine in turn, and when they were done Kikyou proclaimed them bound to one another for life. It was, Sango thought, a lovely ceremony, if entirely unexpected. And it left her in a daze, her mind turned toward the future. She was a wife now, and would one day be a mother, with little Taijiya children of her own. And Miroku would be her husband, the father of those children. It sent a pleasant tremor down her spine. Her life had just been irrevocably changed, and for the better.

With the wedding itself finished, Kikyou called for the servants, and the room was swiftly set for an impromptu feast; Sango had not realized how famished she was until dish after dish was brought forth and carefully arranged. The kitchens had not been idle while she and Miroku were being prepared for the wedding ceremony; the scent was enough to make her mouth water. Finally, with the feast itself ready, the servants brought cushions for the guests and helped them arrange themselves for the meal. Sango and Miroku were given a position of honor with the royal family, but then, the gathering was so small and intimate that nearly everyone present was of the royal lineage or very close to it.

The sudden turn in her status had Sango's head spinning. Miroku, on the other hand, seemed to handle it all with a remarkable aplomb. Then again, this was a man who had one day on a whim decided to assist a pair of fugitives that turned out to be a Princess and her Taijiya bodyguard, then set out to become a Taijiya himself in order to marry the warrior woman he'd somehow fallen in love with. He was obviously accustomed to strange twists of fate by now. By comparison, having the royal family attend his wedding was not all that unusual.

When at last the food was gone, the wine drunk, and the conversation had died down, Kikyou observed that perhaps the newlyweds would prefer to retire early... at least from the public festivities. Miroku could not keep from grinning; Sango flushed at the implication. But she took his proffered hand, and they went back to their shared room together amidst some surprisingly raucous calls from the royal table.

By the time they were finally alone together and ensconced in their room, Sango was beginning to fear that her cheeks would be permanently stained red. But her fears and embarrassment melted away beneath Miroku's gentle kisses, in his familiar embrace... and she found instead a building desire and a sudden surety that tonight they would create good memories together, memories to outshine the journey's fears and hardships.

-x-

The next day brought more surprises. A servant rapped quietly on the door, and informed Miroku that he and Sango were requested to join Princess Kikyou in the royal audience chamber as soon as they were ready. Sango, who had dashed into the small private bath adjoining their room to make herself presentable, scrubbed furiously at her face with lukewarm water from the basin and wished she had thought to wash the makeup off last night. But at the end her mind had been on other, much more pleasant things, and it had not occurred to her.

"We've been summoned," Miroku remarked wryly from the doorway, where he was watching her with an appreciative glint in his gaze.

"Don't look at me like that," Sango admonished, feeling somewhat amused at his lascivious expression. "If we've been summoned, that means we don't have time for games." She used a washcloth to wipe away what remained of the sticky sweat from the night's activities, pausing when Miroku handed her kosode to her. The well-worn garment had been cleaned, pressed, and mended, then folded neatly. "Where did you get this?"

"The messenger brought it. And my clothes, too," he told her.

"Then why aren't you getting dressed yet?"

He grinned. "It's more fun to watch you."

She took her kosode from him and shooed him out of the room. "Make yourself presentable."

He did, and in short order they found their way to the audience chamber where Kikyou was waiting for them. Sango was not quite sure what to say to her; the wedding festivities had been a wonderful surprise, and she truly appreciated them. She just was not sure how to broach the topic without sounding awkward.

"Your Highness, you have our thanks for your kindness, generosity, and hospitality," Miroku said, enviably managing to keep a straight face.

"You are most welcome," Kikyou said, looking pleased. "Both of you."

After a brief pause, she went on, "I suppose you are wondering why I summoned you here so early today. I have a boon to ask of you."

Sango glanced toward Miroku, but he was looking straight ahead at Kikyou. "You may ask, Your Highness," he said. Something in his tone sounded off; while he had guessed what she was about when she ordered her guards to haul them off in preparation for the wedding, he either did not know or did not like what she was going to ask of them now.

"I would like you to accompany my sister and myself to the West, where Kagome's husband waits."

It was not an entirely unexpected request, at least not to Sango. She was tempted to agree immediately; she liked Inuyasha, and wanted to see things set right in the West, so Kagome and Inuyasha could have their well-deserved happy ending. But she was also feeling a pang of homesickness and a strong yearning to be done with this journey and settle in one place for a while.

This time, when Sango looked to Miroku, he was looking back at her. She could not read his expression.

"If it makes a difference, Kagome has requested your presence on this trip," Kikyou added casually.

"I have a feeling my wife would be angry with me if I turned down a request from a friend," Miroku remarked. Sango had to struggle to keep from grinning. "And since I would like to keep her happy for a while longer, we will just have to accept."

"Oh, you will?" The excited interruption came from Kagome, who was standing in one of the side doorways that opened off the audience chamber. She looked barely able to contain herself. "You'll come? Thank you! I'm so glad!"

"Of course we will," Sango assured her. "I would never abandon a friend."

Sango knew it would mean a lot to Kagome to have friends beside her on this journey. And, she hoped, it would give her a chance to find out what had happened to put Inuyasha under a spell and Kagome in Kouga's clutches. She found herself once again intensely curious about the whole affair, and now that everything was being set to right she had time to indulge that curiosity a little bit. Kagome had always had a knack for attracting trouble, at least for as long as Sango had known her. It was how they had become friends in the first place, as the sole survivors from Kagome's first journey to the Western lands - the Princess and the Taijiya hired in secret to be her bodyguard.

It was also how Sango had met Miroku. Strange, how things had a way of coming full circle.

Kikyou cleared her throat. "There is another matter I would like to discuss while I have the both of you here in private. Come here."

Sango stepped forward, only half a step behind Miroku. She felt off-balance and her gut churned with trepidation. It was not, she decided, that she did not like Kikyou, it was just that Kikyou had a rather unpleasant way of taking her completely by surprise.

And she was indeed taken by surprise when Kikyou stood and handed her a scroll made of thick, high quality paper. "This," she explained, "is one copy of a pledge. The other copy will remain here, where it may be seen and remembered. It is my promise that from this day forward the Taijiya are not subjects of this kingdom, but treasured allies."

"My Lady..." Sango murmured.

"I understand that your father is the Lord of the Taijiya," Kikyou went on. "Please present this to him on my behalf."

"Yes, my Lady," Sango said, her voice trembling slightly as she made a formal bow.

"And I apologize, Taijiya Sango," Kikyou went on, "for the manner in which I had you brought here. No Taijiya will be taken from your village in duplicity again."

Sango was so taken aback by the news that she could not even manage to stammer another "my lady" at Kikyou. Miroku smoothly stepped in and thanked Kikyou for her generosity toward their people, pledging continued goodwill from the Taijiya village.

Sango could tell that Kikyou was pleased with the reception of her surprise; the Lady's next gesture was just a generous. "Now, go. Get some rest. You have only just finished one great journey, and we set out on the next tomorrow with the dawn."

-x-

This was to be Kikyou's first official visit to the Western lands. It was also no pleasure trip, nor merely an opportunity to see the land while returning her sister to her rightful place. This was a diplomatic mission, through and through. And as such, Kikyou would be traveling with a full escort of trained guards in addition to her more usual entourage.

Sango had been to the Western lands once before, but she had never made the full journey on open roads and in plain sight. She had been serving as Princess Kagome's bodyguard, in secret, at the time. When their convoy was ambushed, Sango rescued the Princess and they took off on their own in a desperate attempt to reach Kagome's intended, Prince Inuyasha. It was that fateful journey that had led Sango to Miroku in the first place.

Repeating the journey now had Sango inadvertently looking backward over the past year of her life. She had come so far, almost without realizing it. Even Miroku seemed overtaken by nostalgia, for he was much quieter than he usually was on the road. It was odd and a little alarming to see him so subdued. Ordinarily he made a point to be in the thick of things, drawing as much attention to himself as he possibly could. Now he seemed more content to meditate in solitude, or merely to walk beside her and keep his thoughts to himself.

Not that she was going to complain about having him mostly to herself for once.

It was unusual for a Taijiya to travel with a group without first being hired as an escort, and for her part Sango found that she had a difficult time relaxing. But although she volunteered early on to assist with the watch, the guards quickly turned her down. She was a hero of the realm, a legend even among the near-mythical Taijiya, and was not to be bothered with such petty duties. If she wanted to help out, she should stay near Kikyou and Kagome, for her presence seemed to cheer both ladies considerably.

So Sango passed the time by conversing with Kikyou and Kagome, and worrying about her husband. She was not sure she liked how withdrawn he had become, although he was still more than eager to welcome her to his bed each night. But as they drew closer to their destination, Miroku seemed to put whatever was bothering him behind him once more.

A while later, in the relative privacy of their shared bed, he admitted what had been bothering him: "You almost died the last time we came this way."

"That's what's been upsetting you?" she asked, feeling slightly incredulous. She had been poisoned and delirious, so it had hardly seemed like a life-threatening situation to her. She seldom even thought about it these days.

He nodded and held her just a little tighter. She sighed. "It's different this time. We're safe and Byakuya is dead."

"I know," he agreed. "But it's better to be cautious than reckless."

She was beginning to catch on to what was putting him so on edge. The instigator of all the trouble that had occurred on Kagome's first journey to the Western lands, a demon named Naraku, had managed to escape justice afterward. Even now, a year later, his whereabouts were unknown and the best efforts of the Western court and Taijiya alike had turned up nothing. He could be anywhere, stirring up all kinds of sinister plots.

She murmured agreement and snuggled up against him, her mind now wandering too much for sleep. Everything Naraku had thrown at Sango and her village, they had survived. Let Miroku worry – it never hurt to be alert - but she would not live in fear of what might be. She stayed awake a while longer after that, listening to the sounds of the camp: the crackling of the fires, the murmurs of the guards on duty, the soft sounds of the animals. Gradually she grew more and more settled, until at last slumber overcame her.

-x-

They reached the Western palace in due time, and what passed for a warm welcome from Sesshoumaru awaited them. Sango was much relieved to be only on the fringes of the royal goings-on. She might not fear many demons, but Sesshoumaru never failed to put her on edge. He was keenly beautiful in a way that mortals could never achieve, and he was the sort of man who spoke little and gave even less away. There was no way to tell what he was thinking unless he saw fit to explain, which he seldom did. Especially not to mere humans.

Secretly, Sango thought Sesshoumaru was a fool if he thought Kagome and her sister were 'mere' humans by any count. Then again, she supposed he had permitted his brother (even though Inuyasha was only a bastard younger brother) to marry one of the Higurashi sisters, so he couldn't think too lowly of them. Maybe, and the thought nearly made her giggle because she honestly could not picture him as anything but an ice prince, Sesshoumaru's chilly reception was but pretense, for the sake of his demon courtiers.

When Kikyou had finished presenting Kagome to the court, Sesshoumaru dismissed those that were not of sufficient rank or were not closely involved in what had happened. At his signal he led the way into the castle and toward the courtyard where Inuyasha awaited. He was followed first by the chosen demons and then by Kikyou, Kagome, and the humans who had been permitted into the royal audience.

Sango had glimpsed this particular courtyard (one of many) before, during her first trip to Sesshoumaru's palace, but she had never entered it. During that trip she had not been an honored guest of a visiting royal, but rather Kagome's wounded servant girl, alive only by the grace of Prince Inuyasha's patience. Then, she had judged it prudent to stay indoors and in the servants' quarters with Miroku, away from the more powerful and dangerous demons.

This time, she was there as Princess Kagome's personal guest. It would have been unseemly not to attend her, even if the otherworldly place did make Sango a little nervous. Looking through the doorway into the courtyard, Sango swallowed her trepidation, reminded herself that not only was she a Taijiya, she was an emissary for her people. She was capable of handling whatever was about to happen. She hoped.

The courtyard was dominated by an enormous tree; it had been growing in that spot for centuries, long enough that the castle itself had been built around it. Surrounding it were well tended gardens and paths, all very ornate and beautifully arranged, but Sango's attention was solely on the tree. It was, in fact, a demon tree. The venerable tree demon had been a friend of Sesshoumaru and Inuyasha's father, and it was concern for this demon's health - not his half-blood brother's, a fact that made Sango think painfully of her own brother, Kohaku, and wonder how Sesshoumaru could be so heartless - that had finally forced the demon lord's hand.

The tree did look rather sickly compared to the last time Sango had glimpsed it. The sacred arrow that bound Inuyasha must also be adversely affecting the tree. Inuyasha rested against it, nestled in a crook of the trunk near the roots. Although an arrow protruded visibly from his chest, it looked like he was only sleeping.

It was an unnerving sight.

Kagome hesitated. Everyone paused with her, proceeding only when she was ready, moving at her pace.

Sango found herself wishing they would just get on with it. The whole endeavor was beginning to make her skin crawl. Still, she was curious. What was Kagome going to do? What could anyone do? Inuyasha might be half demon, but he had an arrow through his chest. That wasn't the sort of wound one simply lived through.

She glanced at Miroku but he was looking straight ahead, his expression unreadable.

It was hard for Sango to watch as Kagome approached her husband. Inuyasha gave no sign of awareness as she drew closer. Sango felt her heart constrict painfully in sympathy for Kagome; she had no idea what she would have done if it were Miroku or Kohaku sealed upon that tree. She wondered how hard it was for the Princess to walk those few paces, to cross that short distance, knowing she was the one responsible for the predicament of her beloved.

When she was only a step or two away from him, Kagome spoke. Her words were too quiet for Sango to hear, but one of Inuyasha's ears twitched visibly at the sound.

Sango's eyes widened. He really was alive.

Kagome took a moment to prepare herself, then abruptly reached over and clasped a hand around the arrow's shaft. As if by magic, the wood and feathers changed, glowing brightly with pink light before disappearing altogether.

As soon as the arrow was gone, Inuyasha opened his eyes and sat up, demanding, "What the hell happened? Where did that bitch go? I'll kill her myself - rip her right out of the sky if I have to!"

Kagome made a placating gesture. "Inuyasha, it's been months since this happened," she said, her voice wavering only slightly. "The arrow... you were sleeping."

He had no sense of time having passed at all while he had been sealed on the tree. For Inuyasha, it was as if it had happened yesterday, a fact that he made plain in his usual blunt manner.

And because he had been sleeping for so long and only knew part of the story, it fell to Kagome to tell what she knew. As she told the tale, Sango learned again why she admired Kagome so much. For all that the Princess had been raised in luxury and allowed to run idle and foster all kinds of silly fantasies, she was a lot stronger and more resilient than she seemed.

With Inuyasha beside her, she would finally be able to let go of the terror of her kidnapping and be happy again. Sango was glad for her, and as the Princess began her tale, she sincerely hoped that this would be the last of Kagome's adventures.

The tale began actually quite shortly after Sango's departure from the Western palace. As soon as new things could be procured or sent from home, Kagome began taking archery practice in the largest courtyard of the castle, as was her custom back at home. Inuyasha would join her, watching her practice or training with his sword. It had quickly become a part of their daily routine to spend this time together. And, too, it had quickly become known to the other denizens of the palace.

That was, presumably, how the wind witch found out about it, though no one had confessed to selling the information. Of course they wouldn't, Sango thought darkly, but everyone knew that most of the demons that lived in the palace had little love for Sesshoumaru's half-blood, bastard brother or his human wife. Any one of them could have been the guilty party.

The life of royalty might seem glamorous to most, but Sango did not envy Inuyasha and Kagome their place in the palace.

But in the early days of their union, when they had yet to face the trials that even then were sure to come their way, Inuyasha had been confident that he could protect Kagome from anything, especially since his brother was Lord of the land. He had, unfortunately, been wrong.

Inuyasha was the first one to realize that they were not alone in the courtyard that day. Kagome had followed his gaze skyward, confused and then startled to see a woman standing on air as if it were solid ground beneath her feet. Inuyasha pointed out that the woman had obviously been a wind witch, and bore no colors or insignias that he recognized; she had come from somewhere beyond the Western lands, though he did not get a chance to ask why.

The woman had attacked when Kagome made to question her. She had thrown blades forged of air itself at the pair below her, and would have killed the both of them if not for Inuyasha's quick reflexes. The deep gouges she had left in the courtyard had been swiftly repaired, but many were willing to testify to the damage even though no evidence remained.

Since her husband could not reach the wind witch and the guards were slow to react, Kagome had taken action. That was when everything had gone wrong: when Kagome tried to use an arrow against the wind witch.

It had happened faster than either of them could react. The wind witch had turned the enchanted arrow aside, aiming it for Inuyasha's heart instead of her own, and capturing the Princess as soon as Inuyasha was unconscious. The witch had never said what she wanted with Kagome, only spirited her away from the castle in silence. It was only later that Kouga had rescued Kagome and taken her as his prize. She had been too confused, frightened, and hurt to put up much of a fight. She hadn't been a prisoner, but she hadn't been free, either.

Sango felt a pang of sympathetic guilt as Kagome told of fleeing with Kouga (and his unknowing then-accomplice, Ayame), sure that Sesshoumaru's trackers were after her for accidentally murdering her husband - a belief Kouga had not disabused her of, even though he knew the trackers were likely after the wind witch, or himself, instead. That was why he had chosen to hole up in the barricaded village for a while. Demons could not get in... excepting the two wolf demons that had a priestess with them.

That was when Sesshoumaru had sent word to Kikyou. He was a great deal more concerned with the ailing state of the tree demon than with his brother's missing bride. But as it turned out, no demon - not even a tai-youkai - could stand to touch the arrow, much less remove it. Kagome had enchanted it. Only she could remove it. And his informants made him aware that he needed humans to find her, no matter how much it galled him.

Kikyou found that point to be particularly amusing. Suddenly, Sango felt she understood a little bit of why so many people had been against an alliance between these two rulers. Divided by hate and prejudice, they might rip each other apart. United, they were a force to be reckoned with. Sure, Kikyou was only to rule until Prince Souta came of age to take the throne, but Sango thought back to the somber boy who had attended her wedding and thought that he might take after Kikyou someday. She did not, however, think the young Prince would turn out quite as prickly as his eldest sister had. He had seemed to possess the best qualities of both of his sisters: Kikyou's cunning intelligence tempered by Kagome's kind understanding.

Sango had plenty of time to consider the similarities and differences between the three royal siblings as what she had expected to be an informal meeting quickly turned into a trial of sorts. Demons who had witnessed the events of that day came forward to give statements. Most even answered honestly, and most were of the opinion that, in spite of their mistrust of humans, Kagome had not intended to seal her husband or bring harm to the tree demon.

When the testimony was completed and Kagome's innocence established, the crowd was allowed to disperse. Sango half expected to be ignored, after all there were far more important personages in attendance than herself, but Inuyasha and Kagome made a beeline for where she and Miroku were standing. Much to Sango's continued surprise, the first thing Kagome did was tilt her head in a bow. Flabbergasted by such a show of respect from such a high ranking person, Sango quickly grew flustered, a situation made ten times worse by Miroku's obvious amusement at her plight.

Stupid monk, she thought, glaring at him. He did not have to let her take all the credit for what had happened; she considered his part in the whole affair to be equal to her own. After all, without his quick thinking and questionable abilities, they would never have met Ayame and most likely would never have found Kagome.

But instead of taking his fair share of the praise, he quickly immersed himself in the crowd alongside the Princess, embroidering and embellishing the tale of Sango's brave deeds to whoever would listen. Most of the demons did not care in the slightest about the adventures of a human woman, but the men of Kikyou's entourage were eager for more of the tale and were happy to take it from a first-hand witness.

Her husband's antics made Sango sigh with exasperation, but she knew better than to try to stop him - it would only make him more determined. And besides, she had to admit she was glad to see him back to acting like himself. He had been so subdued on the way here...

As Miroku's tale ascended to new heights of ridiculousness, Inuyasha gave her a wry look and grumbled, "Don't know how you put up with him."

"It's easy," she explained. "I can't imagine living without him."

The Prince grew quiet and thoughtful at that, no doubt thinking about his own strange relationship with the human Princess. "Sango, I want you to know something," he said, surprising her with the familiar address. She was accustomed to being 'Taijiya Sango' to those from outside her village, but from Inuyasha the familiarity was pleasing. "I owe you Kagome's life twice over, and now my own, too. If you ever need it, I've got your back."

Sango bowed respectfully, too startled by the declaration to remind Inuyasha that he had already saved her life once in turn. "Thank you, Lord Inuyasha."

Miroku wandered over to echo the bow and sentiment, adding, "Prince Inuyasha, I sincerely hope that if we ever meet again it will be under more auspicious circumstances."

With a nod to the two humans and a muttered excuse about spending too much time away from his wife lately, Inuyasha departed in search of Kagome. Sango watched him go, a frown slowly forming on her face.

"You're thinking awfully hard," Miroku commented after a moment.

She gave him a sidelong glance. "Just wondering about a few things."

"What sort of things?"

In an effort to wave off the question, she elaborated, "It seems a little suspicious, is all. A few too many coincidences for my liking."

"You think Kouga was in league with the wind witch?" Miroku prodded.

Sango frowned. "If I am remembering my mythology right, a wind witch isn't going to cooperate with just anyone. Something big would have to be at stake, and I don't think Kouga could manage something like that. He's smart enough to run a wolf pack, but I don't think he's particularly clever. Definitely not clever enough to snare himself a wind witch," she mused. "But it seems too convenient to think he just stumbled upon them one day..."

Miroku chuckled lowly, but his eyes held a serious expression. "Please tell me this mystery isn't going to be the start of another quest."

"No, it's not. I'll be happy to leave this one up to Sesshoumaru and his men."

"Good."

He looked so very somber that she could not suppress a giggle. "I've already done the hero thing twice, and that's enough for me. I think it's time to focus on the other things in my life," she said, smiling indulgently. "Like learning how to be a good wife."

"I like the sound of that."

"You would," she said tartly, but there was no malice in it, only affection.

-x-

When at last the day's affairs were settled, Sango and Miroku were given a room of their own alongside the rest of the human delegation. Kikyou and her entourage were scheduled to remain on for some time as this was both a landmark visit and would provide her with time to work with Sesshoumaru and the rest of the demon court. But for their part, the two Taijiya were permitted to leave as soon as they were ready.

And as far as Sango was concerned, 'ready' could not arrive quickly enough.

As soon as morning came, she stood beside Miroku and looked to the East. The road toward home stretched before them, long and winding but familiar. The early morning sun shone brightly down upon them, lighting their way: a good sign for the journey ahead. For a long while all was quiet, save for the soft rumble of Kirara's purr.

"Well, wife," Miroku said at length, clearly taking pleasure in the still-new title as well as the promise of solitude on the journey to come, "are we ready to go home?"

Sango's smile gave him the answer without words.