Limerance

Chapter 6

The moment Sesshoumaru spied the figure in the water, he knew he was dreaming. For him, dreaming was unusual. The infrequent times when he required rest were filled with void-like tenebrosity and a distinct lack of mental wanderings. If anything, during such times he preferred to still his mind and bring his emotions under strict control to cool the ardor of his demon blood which thirsted at all times for chaos and destruction. This was one of the first dreams he'd experienced since early childhood, and the moment he recognized it for what it was, he wished that he could end it.

A forest surrounded him, familiar in many ways. His brother's forest, still green despite the autumn that approached. Sand shifted beneath his boots, moist and pliant in the sculpting hands of a minor river that began here and snaked all the way through the entire wood. Seeing it was like looking back into the past to the night before the Jewel ceremony - to the night when a single moment had captured his focus so strongly that he would never forget it again. This was no fleeting memory, but it was nothing more than that. He was not so addled that he would allow himself to believe this to be real. Still, he gave this memory credit where it was due, and he marveled at the clarity of his remembering.

Some part of him had carved this night into the endless corners of the maze that was his memories, hiding it in a place so deep and remote that he'd never believed he would allow himself to think of it again. Yet here he was, dwelling on a remnant, claws of pride and rationale working to temper the thrill of seeing her standing there in the thick of night. The absence of the sun hid many things, but it could blind him to nothing. He saw through every shadow, peered through the branches, and moved soundlessly until he was close enough that the beating of the falling waters before him echoed in his chest.

Yet, he saw nothing else - neither the forest, nor the waterfall, nor what color the moon turned the swaying leaves. He chose not to see those things because all that mattered now was seeing her.

Just her and only her.

The priestess stood in the deep end of the river at a cliff face, the water rising up to her waist. She wore a white yukata, but it did nothing to hide her skin, for the river had transformed it into transparent silk. Thick pitch black hair twisted and curled down behind her past the dip in her spine until it trailed like ribbons of black blood in the water. Her head was tilted back, her eyes closed against crashing droplets of a roaring stream. One hand was raised; she held her fingers against her throat. How fragile it looked - how vulnerable. It would melt beneath his poison, and come undone beneath his talons.

The moonlight caressed her skin with long violet fingers, wrapping phantom hands around her slender form. The wind bore her scent to him within its supple arms: rose water, white sage, and a faint smell of tsubaki flowers. A candle stood on the riverbank beside a ceramic bowl filled with fragrant herbs no doubt meant to purify her aura. That night, he'd beloieved he watched her with an impassive and indifferent gaze. How wrong he'd been. A dispassionate observation and a half hearted focus could not have captured this memory with such acute perfection. He could even see the goosebumps on her flesh beneath the fabric of her clothes.

Sesshoumaru watched the cold water trickle down her throat, swore that he could see her pulse there. That thin graceful neck, those small delicate fingers, and those long black eyelashes beckoned him. That's when he realized that one thing was different from his memory. He no longer remained in the shadows of the forest. He waded in the stream, approaching her without any doubt and without any intention of hiding. The temperature of the river should have been off-putting, but Sesshoumaru was too intent upon his task to bother with such a shallow sensation. Instead, he was mesmerized as – with a small sigh – she opened her eyes. This time, she did not look in some vague and general direction.