The Artisan

If he could paint, he would have painted the sky.

Hues of blues and whites and grays that always seemed to be at his fingertips.

But of course, they weren't.

"Oh my god. . ." Came the horrified voice of his nurse maid, the latest in a batch of many. It just seemed that they couldn't keep up with him. It just seemed that all of them feared him. "Sesshoumaru. . ." the nurse maid's timid voice asked, and though he wasn't looking at her, he knew she wasn't looking at him.

"Did you do this?"

But he could paint. The damp, mossy floor of the forest was painted every shade of blood there was. The bark on the trees, normally colored white or brown or the color of mold, were smeared and splashed and splattered with the gore of his kill.

The buck, much larger than he, was no longer recognizable as a buck.

At this point, even he was unsure of what that could have possibly been.

A mass of organs lay on the ground – things that Sesshoumaru hadn't known what to do with – and the skin lay stretched out on thin, make –shift wooden stakes, tanning in the soft light of the covered forest.

"Yes." Was his simple answer.

And he may have killed her, too.

He didn't really remember.

If he could have painted, he would have painted the sky.

Hues of greens and whites and blue, all of which seemed to blur together as the world danced around him.

"Don't move, Sesshoumaru!" Came the disrespectful cry of the girl that traveled with his brother. Her arrow – a cheap wood, a sharpened end – was pointed right at him, and with all of his injuries – caused by her, a human female, no less – he couldn't have moved if he dared.

"You're a miko." He hadn't been aware of the knowledge. If he had known, he would have taken care. . . perhaps made sure she was uterly defenseless when he had trapped her.

Kagome blushed, and for a split second, her hold on the notch slipped a little. "Yeah, what of it?"

If he could just get her to release her bow. . .

"You're very beautiful." He said, a hint of a smile playing at her lips.

She gasped, and the bow slipped. . . enough for him to rush forward and capture the little priestess.

If he could have painted, he would have painted the sky.

Steel gray and cold, much like the bonds that kept his capture at his side.

"I'll never stay." She swore the day he tricked her in to slipping with her bow.

"Then you remain of my will alone." He told her, and tugged slightly on the cool metal bonds that held her. The iron, he knew, would weaken her. Iron burned fae creatures, and priestess' were their decendants.

"Why do you even want me?" She demanded. "Is it revenge? Look, I'm sorry that I fought back when you attacked me. But you scared me, and anyone in my position would have fought back."

Not everyone would have, but she didn't need to know that.

"And I just got lucky when I hit you –"

She hadn't, but that was another thing she didn't need to know.

"-and I'm sorry."

She was quiet then, obviously waiting for him to say something. She expected far too much of him.

"Why do you even want me?" She repeated when he made her keep walking.

"Because you will make a very powerful queen."

He wasn't all that surprised when she stopped in her tracks again. "Excuse me?" She asked. Had he turned to look at her, he would have seen that all the blood had left her face.

"And you wont live very long, but maybe you could provide me with powerful pups."

He heard her scoff, an Inuyasha sound that made him want to back hand her. "They'll be half-breeds."

He turned to look at her then. "They'll be half fae." He told her. "And they'll be invincible."

She didn't need to know that. But he told her anyway.

If he could have painted, he would have painted the sky.

Fire red and burning with fury, it was the perfect backdrop for their battle.

Inuyasha tossed his sword aside, well aware that he could never beat Sesshoumaru like this.

And, Sesshoumaru, though he was loathe to do it, accepted the fact that his brother was insane. And when he got his chance, Sesshoumaru killed him.

"No!" Kagome cried. Because she had never stopped believing that he would rescue her. He had told her that he would rescue her.

But he hadn't.

"You're mine now, miko." Sesshoumaru told her, and flicked Inuyasha's life blood at her. It splattered on her face, and she didn't flinch – didn't move.

And he began to think that maybe he had made a mistake.

If he could have painted, he would have painted the sky.

Dark blue, dark blue. Lit by the moon, which lit his castle.

Which lit his pretty human queen.

She was a priestess, and far more powerful than any demon that he could have thought to take, so when he killed the man she loved, he made her his queen. Because that's the way things were in those times of war and destitude.

But it wasn't the way things were in her time.

If he could have painted, he would have painted the sky.

But he would have made it the color of hers eyes when she held the dagger to his throat pressed against it coldly.

"You will leave your hands above your head, where I can see them, and you will not move." She said, sitting high on his chest.

The demon in him stirred, aroused by his mate's fiesty behavior. He felt the blade tremble against his throat, and he knew that she was scared.

"Put the blade down, Kagome." Sesshoumaru commanded. "And we can. . . talk about things."

Sesshoumaru was really good at talking about things. Especially if they were naked. Especially if they didn't talk.

"I'm going home." She said, and he felt the blade press hard enough to draw blood. Not for the first time since he had met her, he was worried for his life. "You will not stop me."

Sesshoumaru frowned up at her, coldly. "I will follow you." He promised.

Her eyes took on a harsh tilt, and he knew that she was deathly serious. "Then I will kill you here."

If she could have painted, she would have painted the sky.

Speckled with stars, even as the sun rose.

Even as she sank deep in to the dry well. Even as the bone eater ate her too.

She may have killed him. She didn't remember.