Ah! At last, a break in the dry spell that is my poor, neglected FFnet page! This story was actually written quite some time ago after I read Sailor Panda's "Stolen Dreams" (http/ www. fanfiction . net/s/ 1194042/ 1/ - just remove the spaces!), and this is my pathetic little tribute to a truly talented writer.The story can stand alone as its own fic, but ya'll will be sitting there at the end going "WTF?" if you haven't read her story first.

Word of Caution: This story is not pretty. It was written when I was very bitter and depressed, and that view is reflected here! Major agnst, a lot of loose ends (which will be tied up soon) and an unfinished air. That's how its meant to be, but if you think I can improve it, go ahead and polietly make some suggestions. I'm not very tolerant of flames.

With that being said, I don't own Inuyasha so blah, and on with the story!

Heart of Glass

He was always silent. No matter what I said, or how much I did, he was always quiet. It pained me to see my Lord thus, and I was always careful to be extra cheerful, just for him. I desperately wanted him to smile. I offered him flowers and affection, my loyalty and devotion. I placed him first in all things and would have happily followed him to the ends of the Earth.

He never smiled.

I so desperately wanted him to smile.

I watched him, as I grew and matured. I watched him watch them, watch her. I wasn't blind. I knew he hurt. He hid it well, very well. His visage was, as always, a granite mask, seemingly cold and unfeeling.

I had seen it crack once.

When she had given birth, we had been there. The silly toad had been sleeping against a tree a little ways off, the monk was with my lord's brother, trying to calm him as he paced. I had been curled up with Ah-Un, not asleep, but cuddled in his warmth watching my master. His mask had remained firmly in place throughout the evening and into the night and he had remained standing against a tree on the edge of the encampment. He wasn't happy about being in a village, I knew this for fact, but for her, he would stay.

He would have done anything for her.

Finally, the other female - the demon exterminator - emerged from within and announced that the child had been born, alive and healthy. We were allowed in the room a few moments later, and my Lord immediately went to the back, against the wall, indifferent as always, except for that one moment.

It was then the my Lord's mask cracked. For just that instant, in that space of time between heartbeats, between breaths, between thought and reason, the mask slipped, fell, and shattered. It was then that I saw the searing, heart-stopping pain that shone in his eyes as he watched the hanyou cuddle close with his mate and their newborn son; when he saw the mate, exhausted but happy, clasping her child close to her to allow him to nurse.

And then it was gone, as if it had never been. But I knew.

I never hated her - how could I, despite the fact that she was the one causing pain to my master? She had no inkling of what she did, and my Lord would not have thanked me had I informed her of her error. She was sweet and kind, a healer and a priestess, a mother and a friend to all who knew her. She was always happy to see my master and hear tales of our travels and our well-being. Even the hanyou was kinder then he first appeared, gruff and argumentative on the surface but gentle and infinitely caring to his mate and pups.

We had left shortly there after, to continue on with our travels and the supervision of the Western Territories. We returned to that village over the years, to see new children born and watch the old ones grow. To visit, in a strange sort of way, with his half-brother and their former companions, to see her before leaving to wander once more.

I too, grew over the years, maturing in my views and opinions. I no longer thought that my Lord was all-powerful, for he himself told me that for whomever has power, there is always someone above them with more power. I no longer thought that he was invincible, because I had seen him after particularly difficult battles, weak and shaking, gasping for breath, though he would be appalled to know that I had seen his moment of weakness. I knew that all the flowers in the world, no matter how bright or sweet-smelling, would not erase the pain in his heart, and I knew that all the devotion in the world would not replace the devotion of a mate.

I grew in body as well as spirit, gaining inches over the years, rising from my Lord's knees to his waist, and eventually stopping at his shoulders. My monthly cycles began and my body matured, my hips flaring and my bosom swelling. The pudginess that Kagome had called "baby fat" melted away as my waist seemed to become smaller and my arms more slender.

It was around that time that I noticed my Lord distancing himself from me. We had never been close, per say, had never been privy heart-to-heart chats or shared confidences by the fireside, but we had always understood each other on a far deeper level. We didn't require hours of conversing and sharing to communicate, but as I grew and especially after my monthly courses started, my Lord would leave me, sometimes for hours, sometimes for days, in the company of the miko's village while he left.

He never told me where he went.

He never let me follow.

He would always return for me though, and I held faith in the fact. I knew it pained him to visit the miko, to see her with her mate and watch their children grow and to see the love she showered on them, on him, and even on me when we stopped. His face never reflected his pain, but I knew, and it hurt that much worse whenever he would leave me in their care.

I was far too knowledgeable for a girl about nature and anatomy, the toad once said. No girl should know such things. The miko had merely glared at him, but had assured me that the knowledge was a good thing. It enabled me to make "informed decisions." The miko also taught me reading and writing over the years, and arithmetic as well. Her mate showed me some about weaponry, and I gleaned some knowledge of swordplay and archery through their desire to keep me alive and allow me to adequately hunt. The toad had been furious - it was despicable for a female to take up weaponry and even more so for a female to have knowledge of numbers, and of the written word. My Lord never said anything about my abilities, but he would sometimes correct my technique, or allow me to read aloud to him by the fireside.

It all came to a head on spring evening, several years after I first began traveling with him. The toad was away - he had upset my Lord, who had kicked him - and the dragonet was sleeping soundly by the fireside. We joined that night, both of us trying desperately to fulfill some unnamed need that coursed through us and made us burn. It hurt, only a little at first, but the completeness of the pairing and the enchantment behind the moment was more than I could begin to ever hope for or dream of.

My only distressing thought out of the whole experience: Who did he see when he looked in my eyes? Me...or her?

After all was said and done, he apologized to me. For defiling me, for stealing what should have rightfully been claimed by my husband. What he said hurt, worse than then the taking of my innocence. He regretted being with me?

There was no a repeat of that night's activities, not that night or any night after. A few days later I was placed in the miko's village and he was off with the toad and the dragonet, not looking back.

For the first time ever, I didn't call out to him, wishing him well and reminding him to remember that I was here.

My pride wouldn't let me.

It wasn't for two or three cycles of the moon that he returned, and when he did, he didn't come directly to me to fetch me and leave. Instead, I found him standing on the edge of the woods, leaning against the supporting strength of a nearby tree and watching the village children play. His face was as stoic as ever, but I sensed a calmness about him that had little to do with holding still or a lack of facial expressions. I had returned from gathering mid-summer roots and berries, herbs to be used in medicines for the upcoming winter when the snow fell and lay thick and heavy across the land.

He knew I was there behind him. His head turned fractionally so he could hear me moving, the grass against my bare feet, the brush of the dried-reed basket against my kimono, the gentle swish of the herbs I had gathered. He turned back to watching the children, playing a game with a ball and chasing each other across the meadow. I know he expected me to stand beside him, or try to engage him in conversation, or even ask him when we were leaving.

He never expected what he got.

Coming up behind him, I placed my free hand on his shoulder and leaned up so I could whisper my secret directly in his ear.

"I'm pregnant."