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To be in Lord Sesshomaru's service was not only an honor but a privilege Jaken bore with pride. His lordship was as powerful as he was magnificent to behold with a gallantry seconded by none. One could call his admiration for Lord Sesshomaru sycophancy but Jaken believed wholeheartedly that his lord could not fail at any endeavor he so choosed.
Then surely it must have been an error in his capacity to attend to his lord's needs that such an uncomfortable tension effused the serenity of their patrol. An invisible cloud languished over Lord Sesshomaru as he stared off into the distance from beneath the shade of a weeping willow. His eyes had long-since surveyed the land itself and Jaken knew his lord's awareness extended to even the tiniest insect beneath his boot.
But still, he looked on and Jaken needn't follow his gaze to know where it led.
Slivers of warm, dappled sunlight slipped through the tree's boughs and fell upon a small boy perched in the cradle of A-Un's saddle. The boy was clad head to toe in white robes as pristine as Lord Sesshomaru's but his feet were left bare, swinging lightly over the tall grass and wildflowers with enough force to sway their tips with a mild breeze.
A light, natural breeze blew through the tree branches and disturbed his silver-white hair, playing gently with the curling ends of it brushed shy of his waist. He paid no mind to it though. Indolent and disenchanted, the boy's golden eyes were permanently fixed to the sky as he lulled himself with a song hummed lightly under his breath. It was a nonsensical melody, but Jaken felt tears move behind his eyes at the sight.
He glanced up at Lord Sesshomaru and the pressure of those tears intensified though he dare not allow them to fall even if it were to show the sorrow undoubtedly stirred in his lord's heart. For his son, Mugen, continued to hum and kick in the same manner to which his mother once had during her girlhood, and he did not know — could not know — how endearing yet painful the sight of him could be.
"Jaken," Lord Sesshomaru's voice jolted Jaken out of his lamenting, and he scrambled to stand tall with his staff firmly planted to receive his lord's orders. With a lingering stare, Lord Sesshomaru looked upon his son once more then turned away with shuttered eyes. "Stay here."
"I-Is there danger near, milord?" Jaken stammered, glancing between Mugen and Lord Sesshomaru's back. "Perhaps witnessing your strength in battle will center Mugen-sama's mind."
Lord Sesshomaru slowed mid-stride and peered over his shoulder. A shadow crossed his face, and his bright eyes glowed in the dimness beneath the tree's boughs. The daiyokai watched Jaken with an inscrutable stillness long enough for the imp to quiver, restlessly turning his heels in the dirt as he warred with the idea of kneeling for forgiveness. It would make no difference should Lord Sesshomaru deign to take his head for speaking out of turn but perhaps his end would be granted easier.
At last, Lord Sesshomaru turned away and the oppressive weight of his stare lifted allowing Jaken to inhale a rasping wheeze.
"The battlefield is no place for a child," Lord Sesshomaru stated, and Jaken jolted at the — dare he think it? — softness to his words. Without a backward glance, Lord Sesshomaru walked into the underbrush and past the tree line until his silhouette had become nothing more than a hazy outline. Jaken held himself firm until he could feel his lord's presence disappear from the surrounding area then released a bone-weary sigh, clinging to his staff for support when his knees faltered.
I thought I would surely die, Jaken thought to himself as he pressed a hand to the pounding drumbeat within his chest. He willed it to slow before turning to look at the young boy still lost with his head in the clouds. Jaken blew out a sigh and went to join the lordling underneath the shade of the tree, grateful for the coolness of the shade and the reprieve from his brush with death. A-Un's left head which rested between its paws opened one eye and settled upon Jaken with an appraising stare while the right turned slightly, checking to see if the boy upon its back was undisturbed.
When both were assured, the dragon returned to its idle state and Jaken huffed. How far had they fallen that even his lord's beast of burden would bask in such slothful behavior? In the back of his mind, a voice laughed with the coolness of spring. He remembered the smell of wildflowers pressed into hair oil and combing it through dark tresses, a wispy voice drawled in thanks while brown eyes peered up at him.
Isn't it nice to relax sometimes, Jaken-sama?
Jaken's heart quivered at the thought and he drew in a heavy breath, banishing the sweet-faced woman from mind to look upon the boy half-turned from him. In hindsight, presenting the notion of bringing Mugen onto the battlefield to witness his father's greatness was a foolish one. If harm came to the young prince then the repercussion would not end with blood drawn; no, it would be a fate worse than that.
His lord's anger could be as deep and foreboding as the love nestled within for his children who bore resemblance to the woman who'd once been — and perhaps always would be — his heart.
Jaken cast his eyes sideways and stared at Mugen. Rin had left such an impression upon them all that it would be impossible to think of her existence as past. Yet, just as Lord Sesshomaru and his contemptible half-brother Inuyasha bore a strong resemblance to their mothers, so too did Mugen. He inherited the traits of his father's bloodline but the plumpness of his rounded face and his moon-eyed gaze were his mother's. Even the curve of his smile, glimpsed rarely throughout their recent travels, tenderly brushed against Jaken's heart.
He would never say so aloud, but the want of Rin's presence had not diminished over the years. It'd only grown as the children did and the marks of her life began to age, fading without her touch to keep them warm. How was he to do so in her absence when Lord Sesshomaru could scarcely speak of her without drifting into melancholy?
Oh Rin, what am I to do?
Something tickled the tip of Jaken's beak and he scrunched his face in an attempt to get it to move away. When he turned his head from side to side and the sensation followed, his eyes opened and he yelped at the sight of golden eyes peering down at him. Thankfully, those eyes were much rounder and innocent than the ones occasionally haunting his nightmares.
As the young prince withdrew, he crossed his arms on top of his knees and rested his chin on them. Silver locks spilled over his arms, white as snow against his sun-warmed skin.
"I was calling for you, Jaken," Mugen said, tilting his head with intrigue alighting his eyes as he glanced off then craned his head to look around the clearing. "Where is Chichiue?"
Jaken sighed wistfully and pushed himself up with one hand beneath him, the other grasping his staff as he dragged it closer to himself. "Sesshomaru-sama has business to attend to, so you and I will remain here."
"Why?"
Though the question was simple and mild, Jaken startled at the attentiveness in Mugen's eyes when he turned back to him. The boy spent so much time with his head in the clouds and his heart elsewhere that it was rare to witness him immersed in anything. Would Lord Sesshomaru be overjoyed to know his son had some interest in him even if it were a passing thing such as his absence?
Or would he have deemed it unnecessary?
Jaken shook the thought away. No matter what, it would not do for Mugen to question his father's orders. It could lead to his death one day if he did not heed Lord Sesshomaru's warnings.
"Never you mind that," Jaken scolded, sitting up straighter when the boy's eyebrows disappeared beneath his bangs. "While patrolling these lands, he is your lord. And you would do well to remember his orders as imperatives not suggestions."
Mugen seemed to consider those words seriously, his head dipping slightly. A lock of silver-white hair fell over his eyes as he stared down at the flowers blooming around the small patch of grass where he stood. Jaken's heart leapt when the light gradually diminished in the boy's eyes.
Had he been too harsh?
So absorbed with the similarities between Rin and Mugen, he might have miscalculated how well the boy would respond to his words. A hush fell over the clearing for a long while as Mugen did not speak and Jaken feared any further words would invite death upon him. Then, golden eyes raised while a small smile curled at the corner of Mugen's lips pressed into his cheek and—
Oh no, Jaken thought. He knew that smile.
"But that order wasn't for me, it was for you," Mugen corrected, rolling back onto his heels as he pushed himself up to standing. He turned his head in the direction where Lord Sesshomaru had gone and had begun to take a step when Jaken scrambled to grasp his hanging sleeve.
"Oh no you won't, my lord, your father's orders were explicitly clear!"
Gold slanted down at him, disinterested but vaguely amused somehow. "Then what should we do, Jaken? I want to see Chichiue, but he's gone."
Jaken gaped. "W-Why do you want to see him?" He squawked, catching himself when Mugen's eyebrows furrowed. "You've been together all morning, and you have hardly said a word."
It wasn't completely cause for concern. Lord Sesshomaru was quiet by nature and Mugen had been lost to his thoughts ever since they'd descended from the Heavenly Palace. Father and son would communicate with the barest gestures from a flick of an eye to halting footsteps when one's stride ended. But there was nothing more than that, no familiarity or teasing words.
There was no warmth to be found between them at all. So then, why?
To Jaken's surprise, Mugen said, "I don't have to talk to him to want to see him, do I? He's my father."
Jaken blinked slowly. His fingers unfurled from Mugen's sleeve and the wrinkled fabric smoothed itself out as it fell over his hands, hanging limply by his sides. The lordling stared at him silently while Jaken looked back in awe. Rin had once said the same. She had always talked, preferring to fill the silence with what she deemed was necessary then remaining silent when no words suited her. Lord Sesshomaru's quiet nature did not bother her in adulthood and even as a child she'd taken it as a mere suggestion rather than a sign for her to remain silent.
Did her son somehow understand the same? Was his silence merely a means to which he'd offer his presence to his father without nothing more?
Shaking off his stupor, Jaken stammered, "N-Nevertheless, you will still have to wait, milord."
"Fine," Mugen sighed, turning around with a flick of his wrist and a grumble. He tossed a lock of hair over his shoulder and the lopsided curve of his smile was half-hidden as he said, "If it will keep you from turning into a toad, I suppose I will."
"A wh—?!" Jaken started to shout, yelping when something was thrown at his face. He raised his hands up to catch it reflexively, softness crumpling against the palm of his hand.
"Hold it correctly, Jaken."
He opened his palm, staring down at the woven flower crown clutched helplessly between his fingers. A few of the flower petals had been crumpled from where he'd grasped onto it but the others were still quite healthy. The notches between them were a bit crude but it was clear they'd been done with a careful hand.
"When did you.."
"While you were pretending to play dead, I made it," Mugen said, and Jaken looked up to find the young prince laying a pair of flower crowns on A-Un's head. The dragon trilled at him thankfully and butted their muzzles against his hands when offered. Mugen lowered his hand and reached into his sleeve, procuring another flower crown woven with purple-headed flowers.
"This one will be for Chichiue," he said, lifting the flower crown and turning it over from one end to the other to look with a scrutinizing eye. "Flowers are more difficult to weave than I thought. My claws kept slicing through the stems if I pressed harder than needed. I thought flower-weaving would teach me restraint since they're delicate. What do you think, Jaken?"
Mugen cocked an eyebrow, and turned his head to Jaken with a wondering look. "Jaken?"
The tears that'd welled up in Jaken's eyes had spilled forth as he held the crown to his chest. He quivered and sniffled, trying not to weep so terribly that the blossoms would dampen to ruin. Mugen's eyebrows knitted together and A-Un's heads lifted to watch him, sharing confused glances as the young prince marched forward. Though before he could reach him, a deeper voice called out from the clearing's edge.
"Mugen."
Mugen turned his head, and Jaken nearly wailed at the pure relief in the boy's eyes.
"Chichiue!" Mugen cried, gesturing to Jaken with a flick of his eyes . "Something's wrong with Jaken!"
Past the blurred veil of his tears, Jaken could hardly see Lord Sesshomaru but he heard the slight lull in his silence. Felt the sheer joy his lord must have been unable to express at hearing his son call for him so earnestly as if he could fix his every woe. Then, those warm feelings were set aside as Lord Sesshomaru stated, "Come, leave him."
Jaken wiped at his eyes with his sleeve, looking up to see Mugen leading A-Un by the reins with worried backwards glances while Lord Sesshomaru awaited him at the clearing's edge. Perhaps there was something there, a glimmer of hope and love between them after all.
"W-Wait for me, milord!"
Rin, you don't have to worry. Sesshomaru-sama and Mugen-sama will be just fine.