Actions

Work Header

Inuyasha: Prince of Thieves

Summary:

Ever since the death of the beloved priestess Kikyo, the infamous outlaw Inuyasha and the corrupt Sheriff Naraku have held a stalemate for fifty years, the former evading arrest, the latter keeping his proverbial "throne." But then, a highborn lady, Kagome Higurashi, with a kind heart and fiery spirit, arrives in Nottingham...

Posted also on ff.net and Tumblr

Notes:

The first chapter is basically a backstory, so it will be InuKik centric as a result. But the rest of the fic is DEFINITELY solely InuKag, not to worry!

Chapter 1: Prologue and the Beginning

Chapter Text

Sherwood Forest, they said, was haunted. It was the home of ghosts and goblins and devils, and had been the haunting ground of heathen ancestors who had never been baptized and thus, never welcomed into the kingdoms of heaven. The people of Nottingham whispered of its evil nature, and prayed every night that the ethereal inhabitants would leave them alone in peace.  

Old habits of bygone days were also done to sate the spirits lurking deep within the thick foliage. Men nailed iron over the thresholds of their houses, and women hung medicinal herbs on the ceilings. Unconsciously, people passing by the woods, perhaps on an errand to their lord’s castle or traveling to another village to trade goods, would always bow their heads, murmur a prayer, and make a somewhat sacrilegious, ancient cultural symbol against evil.  

Curious children played “I dare you” games to see who could go furthest into the edge of Sherwood Forest before being gobbled up by a goblin or a witch. Sometimes, the occasional drunk wandered deep within the Forest and came out alive yet frazzled the next morning, babbling on about fairies and ghosts and witchcraft. Only the very foolish and very unlucky wandered in willingly and never came out again. Those examples were used as martyrs, time and time again, by scolding mothers, demanding their naughty children to stay far away from that evil place.  

Why didn’t anyone leave this wretched place? The Forest had not always been haunted, some elders declared, but rather was cursed, thus cursing the villagers of Nottingham as well. If anyone left, they would all be doomed and unleash Hell upon the land, so they said. It was best to stay, outside the Forest’s reach, but close enough to always remember – to always be wary of those devilish beings that were a pox on their lives.  

And so, the story went, for over a century. Although it was mostly contained in the village and castle of Nottingham, word travels far, whispers and hushed tones of Sherwood Forest being the home of “the Devil’s children.” Even the most cynical of visitors couldn’t help but shiver while riding past the forest. Their horses would snort and stamp their hooves nervously, before the riders clicked their tongues and spurred on their steeds.  

Most never dared to look directly into the cursed forest, but still, there were tales of eyes watching passerby.  

Eyes as golden as the sun, that flash red before vanishing into the trees.  

 


 

The great pillars that formed the long halls in the abbey rose like mountains on each side, towering almost impossibly high, with exquisitely detailed paintings featuring the gods on the ceiling. Every step walking down the cobbled floor echoed, resounding off the solid walls, resulting in an almost melodic rhythm. Except for late at night, the choir were singing hymns throughout the day in a separate chamber, their muffled voices and chanting melding with the hushed, echoing footsteps of priestesses, monks, and visitors.  

On a cool autumn evening, long after all services of the day, most of the abbey was emptied, except for the residents, and a handful of lords and ladies taking the extra time for private prayer. Many of the monks and priestesses were resting, as today was the one day, outside of worship where they may take the time to relax.  

A beautiful priestess, young and ethereal with long, black hair, tied back in a simple yet comely fashion, was quietly praying in the back of the Hall of Worship, alone except for a lord and his wife, who were further to the front, and the bishop, conversing with another patron.  

The priestess preferred being in the back if she could help it. Her beauty was unparalleled and well known in these parts, even when confined in the humble clothing of the abbey. Despite her efforts to avoid conversing with men, she still attracted many eyes during worship hours.  

But it wasn’t just her physical beauty: she simply exuded an aura of tranquility and mystique. Even now with her eyes closed and her hands clasped out in front on the back of the empty pew in front of her, she looked deep in prayer, a shining example of faith and purity.  

Little did the people realize how much turmoil was churning in the woman’s head.  

A man began walking her way, his footsteps all but blending with the rest of the echoing sounds, but the priestess knew he was coming. When he was just a few feet behind her, she said in a calm, quiet voice,  

“What business does the Sheriff of Nottingham have with a humble servant of the gods?” 

If the man was surprised by her intuition, he did not show it. He merely slipped into the pew directly behind her, and leaned forward so that his whispers would be heard by none other than her.  

“What other business do I need than to make a call on the loveliest creature in the land?” His voice was deep, husky, but with a slimy undertone, one that would make even the most trusting person shiver. His breath was hot on the priestess’s neck, but she made no sign of discomfort.  

“I am a woman devoted to the heavens and to the gods,” she merely said, without the slightest move of her head to acknowledge his presence. “I do not have the luxury of courting with matters of the flesh when my soul is already at peace.”  

“Ah, but that’s where you are wrong, my dearest Kikyo,” Naraku murmured, his lips now a breadth away from the back of her neck. “I have it on good authority that you have been, ah, ‘courting with matters of the flesh’ with a certain someone. A certain.... half-breed.”  

She clicked her tongue, a dry laugh bubbling from her lips. “How foolish. You really shouldn’t believe every wild piece of gossip you hear, my lord. It’s unbecoming.”  

“I know his name.”  

“Name it off, then, because rest assured, it will not be one of which I am familiar--” 

“Inuyasha.” 

From the other side of the hall, anyone who would be watching this scene wouldn’t notice anything untoward, other than the peculiarity of Naraku’s position behind Kikyo, but they were tucked so far in the corner, it would be impossible to tell how close they truly were. But had anyone been in front of the pair, they would have witnessed something entirely different. Kikyo’s pale hands were clenched tightly together, her eyes set downcast yet wide open, a subtle trembling in her frame.  

“I... I don’t know whom you speak of,” she managed to gasp in a somewhat controlled voice.  

“Kikyo, Kikyo...” Naraku purred, brazenly daring to place a breath of a kiss on her neck. “You’re not a very good liar. Not to me. Perhaps these believing fools think you’re the epitome of godliness, but you’re a sly one, aren’t you? Off galivanting with half-breeds, a dog, no less, making yourself to be his personal bitch. How … quaint.” He propped a hand on the pew behind her back, and ran his fingers along her neck and shoulder, forcing her to tremble more violently than ever.  

She didn’t dare jump up, knowing fully well he had her trapped. “What do you want from me?” she hissed, willing to rip his lips off with her mind.  

“If you wish to stay in the good graces of the gods,” Naraku referred to them with a sarcastic jab that ordinarily would have greatly offended Kikyo, but she was too terrified to make a comment, “and to keep your position here in the abbey, under the protection of the monks who reside here, then I have a proposition for you.”  

“Oh?” 

“By day, you pray and eat and do those silly acts of charity to the poor. By night, you come to my chambers. Alone.” 

She knew it was coming. She knew it from the moment he revealed her deepest secret, but that didn’t stop the flood of rage overwhelming her senses.  

“You disgust me,” she whispered harshly, finally deigning to turn around and glare at the filthy man. “How dare you ask me to give myself, give my purity, to a wretch such as yourself?!” 

“Your purity? Don’t make me laugh. You aren’t pure by any means, even if your beauty would tell otherwise. You have given yourself to the half-breed, Inuyasha, many times, I dare say, deep in his precious Sherwood Forest.”  

For a pause that seemed to last an eternity, Kikyo could only stare at him, at the cruel smile making an otherwise handsome face grotesque. She swallowed. “I … I haven’t---” 

“Lying is most unbecoming of you, Kikyo.”  

“I’m not--!” 

“I have spies!” Naraku spat, his smooth demeanor dissipating with a vicious snarl twitching on his lips. A few heads glanced up in shock, and though they could not hear most of what was said, Naraku took advantage of their caught attention. “Spies who have witnessed, firsthand, you, dear pure  Kikyo, laying down, as naked as the day you were born, while the silver-haired half-breed Inuyasha took you, again and again and again---” 

“STOP IT!” Kikyo leapt to her feet, heedless of the volume of her infuriated shout. Heads glanced up, concerned and confused. Passerby priestesses and monks peeked their heads through the openings of the columns. Kikyo ignored it all, her heart thundering in her chest, staring down in horror at the man who was about to unravel everything, destroy everything she ever worked for.  

But Naraku didn’t feel the need to rake her name in the mud just yet. He smiled again, a horribly arrogant one, locking Kikyo in place.  

“Stop what, Sister Kikyo?” Naraku enunciated her full title with undisguised mockery, not even bothering to lower his voice. “Ashamed of your own hypocrisy? Feel the need to hide who you really are?”  

Whispers began spreading in the halls, echoing with a terrible sense of purpose, not unlike the footsteps of visitors and residents of this sacred place. Kikyo didn’t need to hear the words to know what was being spread from mouth to mouth. Questions, theories, doubts, fears, a growing buzz of confusion.  

Perhaps, the consensus began to say quietly, in the back of everyone’s minds, Sister Kikyo was not as holy as she pretended to be.  

Trapped under Naraku’s triumphant smile and the doubting whispers of her peers and patrons, Kikyo backed up against a pillar, her hand fumbling in her robes until she clasped the pendant she always wore about her neck. She quietly began to murmur an enchantment under her breath, willing her heart to remain calm.  

Naraku stood up. A small crowd had now gathered in a circle about the sheriff and the woman under proverbial trial. The captive audience stared at the former, waiting on baited breath, for the verdict. Was it true? Was it all a terrible misunderstanding? Accusing a holy priestess of impurity was a heinous act, one that surpassed mere punishment by law. Unless the accuser admits to it being a mistake, at least one party would be severely punished.  

If the priestess was innocent, the accuser would suffer a lifetime in the dungeons of the castle, facing tortures and torments that only wild rumors spoke of. No one escaped those dungeons and lived for long, for the law would hunt them down to the ends of the earth.  

But if the priestess was guilty? She’d be stripped of her status and sent on a public “walk of shame” before being sold to a brothel, the money of her sale given to her accuser. A fate worse than death.  

Kikyo knew that all too well. And Naraku, with his position of power, and him being a man, he clearly had the advantage.  

His damned smile proved it all the more.  

Her hand squeezed tightly on the precious pendant.  

“My lords and ladies,” Naraku said loudly, dropping all pretenses now, and finally addressing the crowd directly. He opened his arms wide, turning around so that they may see it was indeed him, their Sheriff of Nottingham, their lord speaking thus. “This brazen hussy is but a farce in this house of the gods.”  

He paused dramatically, letting his words sink in, as the buzzing of the crowd grew to the level of an angry hive of bees. He then pointed directly at Kikyo, who still had her eyes closed, focused on finishing her quiet chant. “She lies with dogs, all but literally, a certain outlaw, a half-breed with a dog demon for a father and a human mother. Your beloved Sister Kikyo has given herself many times to this freak of nature, this abomination, over the course of the past six months. She is nothing more than a demon’s whore--!”  

Suddenly, an arrow shot out of seemingly nowhere, slicing directly through Naraku’s outstretched hand. His shout of pain was drowned out by the screams of terror when another arrow came hurtling down into the Hall of Worship. And another, and another, and another.... A rain of arrows was showering mercilessly upon the people inside the abbey.  

Chaos erupted.  

Gossip long forgotten, the people tumbled over one another, fleeing their house of worship, some limping with fresh wounds, others rendered motionless forever on the cold, cobbled floor. Only Kikyo and Naraku remained, unaffected by the stampede of patrons, monks, and priestesses, hurtling themselves outside.  

When at last, the Hall was emptied save those two, a figure leapt down from his hiding place.  

A shock of white hair, that shone silver when caught in the firelight, and a pair of small dog ears atop his head of the same color. 

Whipping off the black cloak concealing his form, his bright red robes brazen and bright, the figure turned around to glare daggers at his opponent.  

Golden eyes, burning as intensely as the sun.  

Inuyasha, the Prince of Thieves had arrived!  

“You!” Naraku spat, clutching his injured hand.  

“Me, asshole,” Inuyasha said, his disgust ringing loud and clear. He slung his bow behind his back and hurried over to Kikyo’s side. “I’m here to collect my lady, so you can either steer clear or I’ll kill you myself.” 

“Your ‘lady?’ Ha! That bitch can barely be called a whore--”  

“Say another word,” Inuyasha snarled, Kikyo now nestled in his arms – she was still murmuring quietly, not even acknowledging Inuyasha’s presence -- “and I swear I’ll put a hole through your neck as well as your hand!” 

Naraku stumbled back, but he scoffed nonetheless. “You are only one half-breed, what can you possibly do to me?” 

Before Inuyasha could give a witty retort, Naraku let out a piercing whistle. The doors burst open, and hundreds of soldiers rushed inside, their spears and arrows all directed at the half-demon and priestess.  

Suddenly, Kikyo stopped chanting. “Inuyasha,” she said quietly, her eyes locked on Naraku’s cowardly form, hovering behind the front line of his army, “I’m about to cast a powerful spell. Whatever you do, you must not let me go. Understand?” 

Inuyasha adjusted her in his arms, nodding once.  

Sensing his quiet affirmation, Kikyo drew in a deep breath. Then released it. She raised her hands to form an ancient symbol, revealing the small, round jewel dangling at the end of her necklace she’d been grasping this whole time. Just as Naraku gave the signal to his men to shoot at the lovers, Kikyo said a single, foreign phrase in a loud, commanding voice.  

And promptly, the world was swallowed up in pure white light.  

 


 

Fifty Years Later:   

“My lady! My lady, please! Don’t go over yonder!”  

A high-born young woman, with thick wavy black hair and startlingly blue eyes, stood on the edge of Sherwood Forest, gazing with a puzzled expression at the dense foliage, trying in vain to discern any shapes further in.  

“So, this is the infamous ‘haunted forest,’” she murmured to herself, ignoring the panting and desperate calls of her handmaiden behind her.  She shivered when a brisk breeze swept by her. It was early spring, and though the sun was beginning to warm up the world again, winter’s lingering touch remained. In shadier spots, small patches of snow laid, but at least the frost was almost over.  

And yet, the longer she gazed into the depths of the Forest, a thrilling chill ran down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold.  

“Lady Kagome!” Yuka finally caught up to her charge, clasping the lady’s arm in a rare case of closeness to empathize the seriousness of the situation. “You must not wander any further! Your mother will have my hide!”  

“Something in there is calling me, Yuka,” Kagome said quietly, hardly knowing what she spoke of.  

“That’s those awful ghosts and goblins bewitching you, my lady! Please!” Yuka tugged on Kagome’s arm. “Forgive my impudence, but I must, my lady! Let us return to the castle! Lord Naraku will be expecting us, and we mustn’t be tardy!”  

Finally, with an enormous effort, Kagome tore her eyes away from the alluring forest. Quietly, she allowed herself to be led away, making note to come back alone when she had the chance.  

She didn’t see the eyes watching her leave, but she sensed something there.  

But she didn’t notice how those golden eyes narrowed, glaring after her until she was completely out of sight. She didn’t notice the arrow slowly being lowered from its notch, or the way the clawed hand gripped the bow so tightly it almost broke it in two.  

Lady Kagome had no idea how close she came to becoming the next victim of the haunted Sherwood Forest.