Rook
Sesshomaru watched her from afar. He'd followed her in silence for the last year, observing her.
One afternoon, all those months ago, he'd happened upon the argument she'd had with his half-brother. He insulted her, the words he'd chosen in the moment of anger were biting and unforgivable, if the expression of the young priestess was to be believed.
A moment later, she cried out and slapped Inuyasha across the face.
At the impact, the holy energy Sesshomaru was accustomed to seeing had changed from its usual light pink to a black-violet. At once, the demon lord understood what happened: the young woman's soul had become corrupted.
His idiot half-brother had turned this powerful priestess into something much darker, something deadly to both demons and humans alike. Her powers would no longer be the same.
The pain in her heart had turned her to the darkness, and from that moment on, she'd left his brother's group to become a nomad.
Gone were her strange clothes. Now, she wore priestess robes of black, an unusual color, unlike other priestesses.
Her once hopeful, midnight blue eyes were darkened with malice and bitterness, set only on the road ahead of her. She toted a bow and arrows as usual, and nothing else. She learned to make arrows herself, crafted the fletchings from black-winged birds. The points were made of obsidian she bought or found. He would watch her sharpen them until they cut through the air in deadly silence.
But lately he began to notice her appearance. Her ebony tresses had grown long and wild. At night, she would comb fragrant oils through it until it shined like water. Her skin was moon-pale and flawless. Sesshomaru would wonder if, somewhere behind that mask of neutral formality and dignity, if the pure priestess still lingered, mourning her friends and her misfortunes.
But regardless, the demon lord only knew one thing: she was beautiful.
Beyond that, she was resourceful, practical, fearless, and decisive. He admired these qualities greatly, and now, one year later, Sesshomaru decided to approach her.
She was sat by a stream on a rock, sharpening a dagger she was crafting out of obsidian, but she stilled.
"Sesshomaru," Kagome said, not turning.
"Kagome," he greeted.
She turned her head slightly, and he only saw her profile, "Have you come to kill me?"
"No."
"Fight with me, then?"
"No."
Kagome fully turned around then, the dagger sat in her lap casually. "Then why have you come here?" she asked, her blue eyes cautious, curious.
He knelt, "Kagome, I have watched you throughout this year, and you have bewitched me with your deadliness and grace." Sesshomaru offered his hand, "I have come to ask you, beg you… will you be mine? My brother was a fool to neglect you, to disrespect you. I promise you, here and now, that I will never do so as long as we both shall live."
Silence followed, eternal.
But then, Kagome smiled gently, and took his hand.
"Okay."