Solace by Drosselmeyer
Chapter 1
KShadeslady, for you. Thank you for the constant and encouragement you are in this fandom. It would be a darker place without you. So much love your way! <3
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Morning light filters through paper screens.
Kagome stirs. Stretching beneath layers of blankets, she curls her toes into the thick futon and opens her eyes, catching sight of warm, golden beams on the tatami. It is a sharp contrast to the chill in the air, and she shivers slightly, casting a glance at the braziers dying coals. But a quiet stillness infuses their room, broken only by the muted sound of songbirds and fizzing embers.
She blinks, remnants of sleep transmuting into the gentle calm of early consciousness, and before she can leave the bed, she realizes she is not alone. “Sesshoumaru?”
“Good morning, Miko.”
Low and smooth, the quiet baritone cadence of his voice nudges her into wakefulness. Kagome props herself on an elbow, rubbing sleepy eyes with the back of her free hand. “Why are you awake early?”
The daiyoukai inclines his head, long silver hair falling over his shoulder. “Tea.”
“Tea?”
“It seems an appropriate morning for it.”
The chill of the winter chill brings a flush to her cheeks again, and her confusion lifts in exchange for a soft smile. “You brought me tea in bed?”
He inclines his head.
Clawed hands reach out toward her, a cup of some hearty, milky brew. It was rare to see dairy anymore, now living in the past, and her eyes brighten at the gesture that procuring such scarcities is as she takes a sip.
Creamy. Umami-rich. Sweet.
She sighs.
The cup is warm in her hands as she cradles it, careful lips wrapping over the rim to taste the brew once more, steam wafting to her face. She closes her eyes at the comforting scent as Sesshoumaru’s weight settles on the futon beside her and leans without hesitation into his embrace.
“Why?” she asks.
He inclines his head. “A small indulgence, perhaps.”
“Oh, really?”
Golden eyes look down at her, their natural hardness slipping away. “You seem to find solace in warmth.” Uncharacteristically, he hesitates. “Last night was…”
Kagome quiets, taking one more sip, and sets the tea down. “Hard.”
Another nod. “Difficult, yes.”
She swallows, nodding as well, and lifts the tea again. “I’m sorry.”
“You miss your mother.” His head tilts slightly as he considers her once again. “There is no need to apologize.”
“Mmm.” She takes another sip, savoring the layers of flavor. For a moment time seems to suspend as they sit in silence and relish the moment of peace, but then she blushes, burying her face in the cup. “I ugly cried on your kimono.”
She braves a glance at him.
He’s smiling—barely. The corners of his mouth are only just lifted, and there’s a softness in his eyes, a tenderness that says more than any words.
Her cheeks heat a bit more, and she lifts the cup to his lips. “What?”
Sesshoumaru dips his head, takes a sip. “It is nothing.”
“That look doesn’t seem like nothing.”
“What look is that, Miko?”
“That one.”
Slender brow arching, he steals a sip of the tea. “Hn.”
She tries not to smile.
He knows what she’s talking about, try as he might to deny it. And as she finishes the last drop of the tea, that look is still there, lurking deep within his eyes.
“Thank you,” she murmurs.
“You are welcome.”
Earthenware cools in her hand, her throat tightening as she focuses on it. Such a small, ordinary thing, the act of bringing her tea, but the gesture speaks more than any words he could utter.
She sets the cup aside. “You were right, you know.”
Sesshoumaru stretches out beside her. “About what, Miko?”
“That I find solace in warmth.”
It’s reflexive, the way she turns to him then and tucks into his arms. The morning’s golden light and burning embers pale in comparison to the balm that is his steadfast strength and tenderness, and she buries her face in his chest and slips her leg through his, pressing as close as she can. “It’s worth it, you know. To be with you.”
Firm lips press to the top of her head.
He says nothing else and nor does she. And in the hushed serenity of the morning, Kagome lies there with him, basking in the simplicity of an understated gesture.
Strange how the little things sometimes show the most profound care.