Sword Dance

R A I G A R

Standing, Raigar rolled his shoulders appraising how happy his own back would be with having to lift the boxes again. Given the long sleep he’d had, his spine was in pretty good shape. At least he didn’t have to move them very far he consoled himself.

Sayaka trailed after him as he moved to start his chore, setting a lantern in the storeroom and clearing a path for him to where the trapdoor was discretely set in the floor. Busying herself with extinguishing lanterns in the rest of the house and preparing it for the evening she returned just as he had completed the initial shift from the courtyard to the wooden walkway leading into the house. Leaving his sandals on the dirt floor, he padded up the stairs to start the second phase of moving the boxes into the subfloor when he found himself caught by her hand on his shirt. Sayaka grabbed two fistfuls of his open-collar, pulling him lower and kissing him briefly before letting go. “You always surprise me, beloved.”

“Now you know all my secrets.” He allowed himself to be distracted from his labor, catching her in his arms to kiss her again. “I know the money troubles you, pretty flower, but I have a suspicion it will spend far sooner than we’d like.”

“Better spent than stolen.” She draped her arms over his shoulders, nuzzling his face when he lifted his lips from hers. “Let the Shogun take it, for all I care. I have what I want.”

“I’d prefer he leaves a _little_ for you…” Raigar laughed softly, not wanting to incur Josei’s wrath after garnering the old man’s open approval at last. “For when we are old and grey and don’t wish to grow radishes to supplement our retirement…”

“Our children will support us by then.” She disagreed happily. “As dutiful sons ought.”

“Oh, so there will be sons, will there?” He couldn’t help but squeeze her tight at the idea. “No daughters?”

“A few daughters too, if you insist.” Sayaka smiled coyly.

He kissed her again for good measure. “And how many children were you planning on, woman? We may need to hold a little further back from the Shogun to feed our family, if you plan to repopulate the village single-handed.”

“I thought we’d just see what comes.” She shrugged, fingers stroking his cheek and jaw. “A son, then a daughter, and then another son…”

“So, at least three?” Raigar raised an eyebrow in amusement. “And you still think to serve your Shogun?”

“Of course.” She returned his look, unperturbed. “Whom else would you propose stand as champion in my place, should I step aside?”

“I… confess I have not yet had time for speculation.” He blinked and frowned. In his idle plans for their future the conflict of interest hadn’t come to mind. In hindsight he wondered at how the simple fact that a woman heavy with child _couldn’t_ be a warrior at the same time hadn’t occurred to him. As the idea of binding himself to Sayaka and yet being compelled to leave her untouched was physically painful for him to even consider, he reasoned that this was something they’d better plan out carefully. There _would_ be children, god willing. Unless she - or he - proved unable, in that regard, he had every expectation that the consummation he burned for would not be a singular event. If Sayaka’s need for him was even half so great as it often felt, then it would only be a matter of time before seeds planted bore fruit.

Raigar turned the idea over in his mind, realizing he knew precious little about the process of growing, or birthing a child. How troublesome would it be for her? The ladies of London often retreated from court when they started to show from their husband’s advances. Going ‘into seclusion’ for months, until after the infant was born and passed into the arms of a nurse. But were such things common in Iwato? He would have to ask…

Sayaka raised her eyebrow to mirror his from moment before, clearly catching the bent of his thoughts. Reaching up she smoothed his forehead, forcing him to relax his preoccupied expression as he was distracted by her touch. “One battle at a time, beloved. We can discuss the rest later.”

“As you say, Sayaka.” He found it wasn’t difficult to take her advice. Letting his hands drop from her shoulders, he turned back to his chore with a sigh. The boxes were no lighter looking for all that he was half done with them.

Following his gaze, his woman considered the problem of moving them below the floor with a speculative expression on her face. “If you would permit, beloved. I wonder if it wouldn’t go faster with two, than only one.”

He blinked as she gestured obliquely to her plan. First to stack the boxes along the edge of the hatch, then for one to pass the treasure down to the other, thus saving the ladder, and their backs undue stress. Knowing her strength as he did, he couldn’t entirely find fault with the proposal, even though in his heart he wanted to tell her to relax and let him finish without her. She’d already done plenty for him while he’d idly slept the days away. The least he could do is finish the chore he’d started without putting her out further. Sayaka made up his mind for him, walking over to the first of the pile of boxes and hefting it with a pained expression. Still her grip was sure and her movements untroubled as she navigated the short distance across the storeroom. Setting her burden down at the necessary point, she planted her hands on her back and stretched her spine. “And you carried eight such up the stairs… it’s a wonder you didn’t do yourself harm…” She mused.

“I carried them one at a time, woman.” He chuckled at her disparaging look, shifting another lockbox to rest it alongside hers. Slowly they shifted the remaining treasure together.

When all that was left was to secret them below the house, he climbed down the ladder to stand in the shallow sub-storeroom and accept the boxes she passed to him. Carrying the gold over arm wasn’t any more fun than carrying it in the usual manner. He swore softly to himself at the awkward weight as he lowered the chests one at a time and slid them along the packed dirt into the shadows. Still there was room enough for the boxes next to the other dusty trunks and crates discretely stowed. Sayaka’s small collection of family treasures from generations-before made for good company for the wealth of his own forefathers, he thought in a burst of amusement. The humbler sacks and bales of root vegetables and beans were soon shifted back into place, casually hiding the rest from view. It would do for the near-term he nodded to himself.

Climbing back up the ladder, he dusted his hands on his pants and grimaced at his dirty feet before accepting the inevitable with a shrug. He’d need to wash up before he did more than tiptoe through the main house, or risk leaving prints on the carefully polished wooden floors. Sayaka was holding the lantern for him. Watching with a small smile as he stretched his back and then hauled up the ladder. He hooked it back onto its customary storage-place on the wall next to the other random household tools and joined her at the doorway. With his principle chore for the evening complete, he found he was at loose ends. Not feeling fully energetic enough to want to undertake another major project, and not wanting to annoy the village with his wakefulness when the rest of its residents were laying down to a well deserved rest, Raigar felt a little silly at the thought of just going back to bed so soon after waking.

If he were in London, he mused, he’d probably have gone to the library to lose a few hours in reading. But while Kyoto did boast of an impressive collection of written works dating back to the era of the Great War, it wasn’t common for individual households to keep a large collection for private use. He’d brought a few books with him from his estate, but family histories and the like made for dull distractions. Any novels or scrolls Sayaka had were undoubtedly kept in her grandfather’s tea room, where he also made a habit of sleeping. Raigar shrugged philosophically at the limitation. Reading in Kyoto was never as relaxing a pastime as it was in London. While he’d learned enough of the style of written language favored in the region to manage his daily affairs, and even read the complex peace treaties he had witnessed years ago, he didn’t consider himself fluent by any stretch. Wading through a novel composed of the densely packed symbols would likely be a month-long chore. He rubbed the back of his neck as he realized that eventually he _would_ need to practice enough to grow fluent once and for all, or else he’d be spending the rest of his life having his wife leaning over his shoulder to check his spelling. Which wasn’t precisely a bad thing, he had to concede.

He glanced her direction, wondering what her plans were for the night. Probably sleeping, he told himself pragmatically. If the weather were better, he might have been tempted to selfishly lure her out into the trees before she retired, to keep him company as he stretched his legs. Raigar told himself to behave and let her rest. Undoubtedly she would be up at dawn in order to travel to the capital to dispense with her duties to the Shogun and courtiers. He might join her, he supposed, but Josei had mentioned that he was to pay his respects to the village elders, and it seemed a sensible thing, to tackle his petition first with those who would potentially be his neighbors, gaining their support before he went ahead and stirred up trouble at the golden palace.

Instead of leading him back to the main room and preparing for bed, Sayaka carried the lantern back into the front room, considering those few boxes that were left from his horde. “These are the ones without… gold?”

He smiled at her continued hesitance to accept the fact she was now wealthy. The various bags and boxes had little worth to anyone but himself, random papers, some spare clothing, a pair of embroidered quilts of his grandmother’s making for he and his brother as children that he had foolishly thought might be of use for his own forth-coming family. A few portraits of his parents and other family members that were small enough to make the journey and also the two watercolors his mother had hung in her sitting room, evidence of her pre-married life as a lady of London. He didn’t truly know what he’d do with it all now that he was here it, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the small accumulation of sentimental treasures behind either. Sayaka might like looking at a few of the bits and bobs, he shrugged, but later. He didn’t tease himself that she’d be fascinated enough by his past to want to sit up half the night investigating his worldly goods. “Just some things from the house that I kept back before it was sold. Memories, I guess you could call them. “If you’ll permit I’ll just stack them in the corner of the storeroom for now.”

“As you like.” She smiled at him. “If you have further clothing, I can store it in the chests in the main room…”

“I didn’t bring all that much, honestly.” Raigar stacked two of the small trunks on top of eachother, picking up the far-lighter load with a sigh of relief. “I thought, perhaps it would be best if I acquired a local tailor before too long. I stand out enough already without wearing Londoner clothing as well.”

Sayaka nodded and led the way back again with her light. “You would be more comfortable too, I think. London clothing often seems made more heavily than ours. And while the season is currently cool, come spring you remember how heavy the air sits.”

“Humidity has never been a pressing concern for the region of my birth.” He agreed bending sideways as he slipped past her in order to place a kiss on her cheek. It was undeniably pleasant to be sharing such a commonplace moment with his fiancé. Probably there would be many more evenings such as this in store. Putting the cases down, he idly opened each to ascertain what they had in them and then stacked them in order of how likely he was to need their contents. Making the trip back and forth several more times, he finished stacking the last and checked within to see the delicate mass of white silk, fleece and tiny beads that was his mother’s favorite shawl. The memory of his frail parent, with the elegantly woven wrap draped around her shoulders as she sipped tea and stared out at the dreary winter sky came to him with sudden intensity.

“If anything, London City is a place of extremes.” He lifted the shawl out of the box, resolved to give Sayaka something that she could more readily accept, if his more generic treasure made her nervous. “Biting cold in winter, and hot as the inside of a kiln in the summer… People end up dressing in all manner of layers to try and find some combination of cloth and hide that will suit the climate. And then of course there is the ever-changing fashion of those rich enough to buy clothing out of boredom… which adds further complexity to the process of dressing.” He smiled, lifting the lantern out of her hands and setting it on the top of a crate near by.

“Which undoubtedly explains your hat.” She teased him with a kind look, reaching out to run a curious finger along the bundled cloth he was holding.

Raigar shook his head at her continued dismissal of his headwear. “I’ve seen weirder hats here in Kyoto, pretty flower, don’t go telling me mine is _that_ ridiculous.”

“_Priests_ wear such hats.” Sayaka corrected him drolly. “And magicians. Not ordinary people. And forgive me, beloved, but you are neither. Nor would I wish my husband to be… For if he was a priest, he would not be my husband… and if he were a magician…?” She pursed her lips. “It may be a failing in me, beloved, but I do not find such tricksters attractive. There is something deceptive about them that is not pleasing.”

“I’ve seen real magic enough for one lifetime.” Raigar agreed thoughtfully. “And while pretend-magic is fine and fitting for children and those wishing idle entertainment, I cannot say it’s ever been my calling.” Tucking the shawl under his arm, he caught her hands in his, kissing her fingers as she blushed. “What would you say if I promised you that I shall retire my hat to one of these trunks when we marry?”

Such a statement as that could only make her bow her head to hide her wide smile, nodding in agreement as she bit her lip to keep from laughing.

In truth the entire uniform will probably get boxed up as a curiosity soon enough. He was no longer paid to wear it. The fact that he’d crossed the continent in his coat and hat was more out of long-ingrained habit than necessity. Giving up his boots in favor of the sandals and slippers most local people seemed to favor would be more of a hassle, he supposed. He was accustomed to the protection afforded by the thick soles and toe-plates when he was trecking through woods and battlegrounds. He’d undoubtedly adapt. He had before.

Raigar let go of his woman long enough to unfold and shake out the shawl he’d found, inspecting it briefly in the lamplight for any sign of misadventure before leaning forward to drape it around Sayaka’s shoulders, lifting her tied back hair out of the way. The tiny beads caught the light in a host of delicate sparkles tucked into the almost glowing-white down of the woven cloth. Silky fiber and yearling wool made the garment as lovely to touch as it was to look at. Still thin enough in manufacture that it could be folded and carried by the frailest of owners, he knew first hand that its combination of materials made it uncommonly warm in inclement weather.

“For you.” He said simply, admiring the way the shawl made her hair appear darker where it spilled across her shoulders. It was a little incongruous, to see Sayaka in a London-style wrap, her customary clothing still visible beneath the beaded fringe edges, but it was lovely on her just the same. How would she look, he wondered, in a proper London City dress? His tired brain couldn’t quite picture it, but he had a hunch she’d be charming.

Sayaka studied the cloth for a long moment, running her fingers over the soft fibers and glistening beads. Finally she wrapped her arms around herself, hugging the shawl to her as she looked up at him with dark eyes full of affection. “It’s beautiful, Raigar.”

“Not so much as you.” He smiled at how naturally the cliché came to him when looking at her. “But it will have to do.”

True to form, his fiancé looked away, embarrassed by the compliment. “I wish you would not say such things.” She murmured. “I never know how to respond.”

“Say you accept.” Raigar teased her softly, “Say that it makes you happy.” He reached out to cup her cheek, needing to see her face again, encouraging her to not be ashamed to be herself with him. “Say that I make you happy.”

“Raigar.” She surged forward, arms sliding around him and then holding him tight as she pressed her face against his shoulder. “You do make me happy.”

Clinging tighter still, she squeezed him as she used to when they were both far younger, requiring him to return her grip full-measure. The comfortable clutter of the storeroom around them was not perhaps the most romantic atmosphere for a renewal of their vows to love and cherish each other that they’d made in their youth. He didn’t care, crushing her close with careful strength the faded smell of his mother’s perfume and Sayaka’s own unique scent filling his nose and making him sentimental.

“It must have cost a fortune.” She sighed against him, her fingers sliding over the back of his shirt as she slowly relaxed her grip. “But of course I accept… I am no monk, beloved, forsworn from accepting gifts, I just wish I had something to give you in return.”

“You already have.” He laughed against her hair, unable to resist the urge to undo the ties that kept it back from her face yet again. Seeing her mane fall down around her neck and shoulders again was too much to resist. He stepped back just enough to achieve an angle with which to kiss her. His kiss seemed to demand a second in exchange, which led to a third. Sayaka’s hands sliding up his chest to circle his neck, holding him in place against her mouth as she let him feel her growing passion. Just as before, it took precious little to set them on a path that could only lead to one place. Raigar pulled his face away from hers with a heartfelt sigh of frustration. The whole of his body ached for one and only one thing, to have more of her, all of her, without further denial or delay.

“You give me peace, Sayaka.” He finished what he had meant to say before she’d distracted him, finding the words terribly ironic with the intense longing now coursing through his veins.

“You give me myself.” Raigar continued, breathing slowly to calm his blood. Daring to lean forward and press a kiss against her forehead, he wrapped her in his arms again. “You, of all the people in this world, never ask me to be anything but what I already wish to be. I have been a dutiful son, a student, a knight, a political token, a nobleman, a drudge, a captain, a guard, a golem hunter, a councilor, and when all else fails… a convenient shield and sword for weaker people to hide behind. Sometimes it seems I’ve spent my whole life being referred to by my current job description, rather than as a man.”

“That isn’t so…” Her hands caressed his face again, daring to tickle his stubble where his slow-growing beard was making itself known after two days without shaving. “I am sure you have had friends and lovers both through the years… You cannot have been as lonely as you make it seem. Nor am I without fault… I called you ‘ox-boy’ as much as anyone else when you lived here.”

Raigar chuckled at the reminder. “It may have been a little unpolitic, perhaps, but at least it was a nick-name that was uniquely mine.” He squeezed her tighter letting her know he’d never taken serious offense to the teasing. “I _am_ an ox-boy compared to the men of this village… At least they didn’t call me ‘that-giant-outlander’ all the time.”

“That would have been _too_ rude.” She agreed, smiling up at him. “But I hate to say the old-men probably muttered it when you weren’t around.”

“They probably still do.” He smiled back at her; resigned to never fully convincing the more insular members of the village or city that he was capable of living within their society having been born beyond Kyoto’s borders.

“Raigar…” Sayaka’s expression turned worried as she combed her fingers through his hair and idly stroked his neck. “Do not let it trouble you… I will brook no insult from hidebound idiots who’ve never traveled so much as into the capital, never mind beyond the last bridge post of the lake…”

He bent to kiss her, unable to resist with her looking so earnestly at him. This time they were able to keep the intimate gesture purely sentimental. His fiancé’s lips moving gently against his as she sought to reassure him without encouraging the banked passion between them to flare again. “Nor have _you_.” He couldn’t help but tease a little, resting his face beside hers for the sheer joy of sharing her breath.

“At least I’m curious about what lies beyond.” Sayaka grumbled playfully, tilting her face to kiss his cheek. “I read… and I listen to the stories that merchants tell…”

“And you have me.” He agreed, enjoying her closeness.

“And I have you.” She sighed contentedly. “You know that you do not need to give me things, to make me happy, right?”

Raigar huffed softly with laughter at her question, taking his turn to kiss her cheek. “I have an inkling. But even so, I hope you don’t mind my giving you things anyway… call it an ‘odd Londoner custom’, if you must, but I think it’s just part and parcel with being a man in love with a beautiful woman… I _like_ giving you things.”

Blushing brightly she pressed against him again, unable to respond. He cuddled her against him without reservation, wanting her more than he’d ever wanted a woman in his life, but also enjoying the simple ability to share a protracted embrace with her without any promise of there being more. “Besides,” he mused, unable to resist the urge to tease her one last time. “I have every expectation that someday you will give me something I have been looking forward having from you for years now.”

Sayaka pushed at him, her expression one of playful disapproval mixed with pleasure. “Raigar… you should not speak so… what if grandfather were to hear you…”

“Children.” He stated mildly, raising an eyebrow at the way she huffed and hid her face in her hands in embarrassment at her mistaken assumption. “Why… what did you _think_ I was going to say?”

Stepping back, she took her time and adjusted her shawl around her shoulders, only meeting his gaze again when she had mastered her expression again. “You, beloved, delight in teasing me.” His fiancé scolded gently.

“I stand as accused.” Raigar agreed, picking up the lantern to keep him from reaching for her instead. Gesturing that she should make her way back down the hall, he admired her one final time before blowing out the small flame. “Go to sleep, pretty flower. You have your duties tomorrow, and I… will take care of some belated business here as I see about formally petitioning for the right to live in the village.”

“Where are you going?” She frowned in the darkness, reaching back for him. “You’re not going to sit here in the storeroom all night, are you?”

“I am going to wash my feet so I don’t track dirt into my bedding.” He chuckled, giving her a light shove down the hall when she would have stayed to keep him company for longer.

He planned to take a _long_ time washing up and preparing for bed. Hopefully long enough that she’d be done with her own preparations and tucked into her bed before he returned. With the itch he was feeling for her, the last thing he wanted to risk was the chance of seeing her disrobe, or doing anything else prone to set him off again. Raigar waited for her to turn the corner and leave him before daring to reach down and adjust himself, his pants still uncomfortably tight from their intimacy. How she hadn’t noticed his difficulty, pressed up against him as she’d been, he had no idea. Probably she had noticed, she’d just chosen to not think on it. He sighed at the troublesome nagging of his baser urges. Some fresh air, and a few minutes of peace and quiet, would take the worst of the edge off his need for physical release. Denying himself was an uncomfortable exercise, but one he was well familiar with over the years.

Raigar slipped out of the house and sat on the steps where they were still somewhat sheltered by the low roof. Iwato looked fast asleep. He listened for the sound of the damp breeze through the pines and tried to tell himself that he wanted to sleep as well.