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moorPAIRING: Madara x Sakura, Itachi x Sakura
RATING: M
WORDS: 14,000 approx. (60 pages)
WARNINGS/SQUICKS: medieval AU, Robin Hood AU, subterfuge, treason, bandits and highwaymen, royalty au, loyal friends, secrets, Tahitian pearls of wisdom, castles, seasonal change
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Fully written, just need to edit. Came out to approximately 60 pages when printed; still working on the edits. Sorry for the delay. Expect weekly updates through December 2025 as I wittle away at the rough bits.
Ino’s beautiful face was tense as she and Sakura hiked their skirts up higher, their cheeks pink from running across the slushy, late-March meadow, leaping the icy brook, vaulting over three stone walls, and now up a sixth set of blasted tower staircases. None of which was made any easier by their traveling at night and desperately trying to make it back to the castle before dawn. The corridors of the castle were silent but for their rapid footsteps and heavy breathing as they avoided the gates, kitchens and barracks, the only areas that would have seen foot traffic so early.
“I can hear you.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to,” huffed Sakura, her eyes on the prize at the end of the servants’ hall they raced down.
Ino held her peace as they peeked through the spy holes carved into the thick stone walls.
“Clear,” panted Ino, her chest heaving.
Extending her senses and listening for an extra second to be sure, Sakura bit her bottom lip. Her head swam. She shook it and yanked open the closest concealed door—mentally cursing the groaning of its aged hinges—letting her and Ino back into her chambers.
Outside, light limned the horizon and shadows sprouted from the forest and surrounding village.
“Made it,” sighed Sakura, her shoulders sagging as she braced herself against the wall. Across from her, Ino dropped into a cushioned seat, her braid askew and boots muddy beneath her skirts. She closed her eyes and nodded.
A knock sounded at the main door into her chambers.
“My Lady,” called the male voice from outside.
Sakura’s eyes squeezed shut and she swallowed a curse.
Unable to fight it, a yawn slipped from between her lips.
“Yes,” she replied, exhausted.
Her visitor chuckled.
“Did I wake you?… or keep you awake?”
Looking at Ino who was too tired to even lift her head, Sakura yawned again—this time into her shoulder—and answered the door herself. Behind her, Ino went slack as her breathing slowed to the even inhales and exhales of deep sleep.
Her hand on the handle, Sakura opened the heavy oak door a crack, no further. Cool air snaked through the gap.
“What?” she demanded.
“Keeping you from your beauty sleep?”
“Spit it out, Naruto.”
“My title is—”
“In danger of suffering my displeasure this early in the morning.”
She yawned again, louder. She couldn’t help it. She rested her forehead against the back of the door, her eyes slipping shut. Just for a second. Just a second…
“Very important… messenger… arriving before noon… bandits… negotiations… listening?…”
“Mm-hmm,” hummed Sakura, rubbing her face against the door.
“… see you in three hours… formal court…”
Suddenly, in opposition to her genteel upbringing, a raucous snore escaped her against the doorframe, startling her awake.
On the other side of the door, Naruto paused.
“My Lady?”
“Right,” blearily acknowledged Sakura, already pushing the door shut again. Her knees were holding her up with hope and a prayer and neither was her forte.
“My Lady—My Lady, please, this is—”
“I’m praying this morning, don’t disturb me,” mumbled Sakura. She shut the door, locking it for good measure. “Deep prayer.”
—and promptly ignored Naruto’s knocking, falling into her bed with her mucky boots hanging off the side when she couldn’t wrestle the lacings loose.
If only that could have been her only failure that day.
Madara glanced over at his youngest nephew. Like most of the people of the Kingdom of Uchiha, Sasuke shared his dark hair and eyes. It was the most common colouring among their people, though the shades varied region to region.
Unfortunately, it seemed some of his people had also defected and taken to robbing the nobles’ trade caravans, if his spy reports were to be believed. The borders shared with his current destination’s kingdom were some of the lightest hit, fortunately, which made his current journey safe enough for him to attempt it personally rather than sending an envoy for this particular mission.
The carriage swayed gently on its plodding course through the wood and the cushions saved them the worst of the rude bruises such a long ride would have normally accorded them. In fact, the journey had been remarkably unremarkable thus far and Madara struggled to contain his boredom. His papers were up to date, his affairs in order as much as they could be while he traveled day and night, his health fared well in spite of the long hours due to his exercise regime, tonics and the occasional hour or two on horseback—much to his guards’ dismay.
But Sasuke had been increasingly anxious and uncooperative as they approached their final destination, barely speaking to him.
Childish, thought Madara. He’d even been so generous as to allow his nephew the company of his best friend.
Though after a quarter hour of sharing a carriage with the Hozuki boy, Madara had moved both young men to the baggage carriage, their bickering having birthed a migraine so fierce it nearly split his head. The two had remained there for most of the two-month long trip, until earlier that morning when Madara had ordered Sasuke back to his side in the lead carriage.
The boy had sulked since. For being twenty-two, he behaved less like a prince and more like a welp at times. (And he’d had such high hopes for him, after… the incident.)
“I trust the gifts survived the journey?”
“Hn.”
Madara’s eyes narrowed.
Sasuke’s shoulders twitched and he straightened, meeting Madara’s eyes.
“Yes, Uncle.”
“Good.”
Light peeked through the cracks in the carriage curtains covering the windows.
There was a tap against the roof and the coachman called, “The castle is in sight, Your Majesty.”
“Good,” repeated Madara, tapping twice on the roof to signal his acknowledgment.
Sasuke’s expression soured and he folded his arms, looking away.
His dark eyes glittered at the coming negotiations. He was here to see a fellow king about a most prized mare.
The pounding against the door was almost as heinous as the pounding from within Sakura’s skull.
The castle was awake; it had the faint vibration of energy and activity about it that it usually gathered around mid-day. At least, she assumed it was mid-day. She had covered her head with one of her limpest pillows to drown out light, and sound, and really as much sensation as she could since her head was about to—”
“My!” Thump. “La—!” Thump. “—Dy!” Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
“Ino,” groaned Sakura, shrinking under her covers. “G’the door.”
“You get it,” mumbled Ino from beside Sakura.
At some point Ino had climbed into Sakura’s bed. Probably because they were both freezing since neither had had the wherewithall to safely light a fire when they’d returned at far too early that morning.
“Wh’time izzit?”
Ino yawned. “Dunno.”
“They’re here! Please, please, open the door! Lady Ino? Lady Ino, are you there? Is My Lady decent?”
Ino snorted under the covers. Sakura nudged… somewhere in Ino’s general direction.
“Go away,” called Sakura, her voice croaking. “I’m praying this morning.”
To a porcelain god, potentially, in a very short delay.
“My Lady, please dismember me at your leisure later, but the guests arrived nearly an hour ago and have been waiting for you in His Majesty’s personal parlour,” called Naruto.
“Guests?” asked Ino quietly.
Something vaguely fuzzy rose in Sakura’s memory and she rubbed her face. Guests… Guests… Guests…
A blank.
… nope, she couldn’t remember a thing at that exact moment.
Oh well, if it was important then Naruto would have… told… her…
A vague memory of that morning surfaced, of Naruto saying something about… bandits? Negotiations?
… wait a moment…
“We’re not feeling well. Too much prayer. We don’t want to make our guests ill,” called Sakura, not entirely lying.
“Prayer,” mumbled Ino into the blankets, her shoulders shaking.
Sakura tried to kick her but her legs tangled in the covers.
Ino pushed the covers down from their faces and smirked at her. There were still leaves in her hair and straw stuck out from her braid. If Perfect Ino had detritus on her person, Sakura could only imagine how grotesque she herself must look.
Gods, how had they made it home that night? Er, morning?
Ino’s smirk slowly took on a strained quality and Sakura sighed.
“My Lady, please!” howled Naruto, clawing at the door like a cat begging to be let in.
“That bad?” whispered Sakura.
“He’ll believe you if he sees you,” said Ino diplomatically.
Groaning, Sakura shoved the blankets away and tottered to the door, releasing the locks and latch only for Naruto to storm inside and accidentally knock her off her feet, sending her tumbling to the ground onto her rump.
“Fuck, Naruto,” muttered Sakura, sighing and giving up by rolling onto her side on the woven rug that carpeted her rooms, insulating her from the freezing stone floor. “I told you I didn’t feel well.”
For his part, Naruto stared at her, eyes and mouth agape in horror that he had sent his Sovereign sprawling.
“My Lad—!”
“Shhhhhhhhhhh,” said Ino from the bed. “Sick. Sleep time,” she added, curling under the blankets again.
“What happened? Is it plague? Is it the drop? Is it…” His voice trailed off.
Sakura glanced up at him to find his jaw a granite line and lips pressed tightly together as if tasting lemon.
He stared at her feet.
No.
At her muddy boots.
Sakura closed her eyes. The end was nigh. It was better to just let it happen.
—Unless he would go easy on her if she explained?
“In my defence—”
A bucketful of ice cold water splashed over her, knocking the air from her lungs and shocking her into silence.
“Lady Ino, see to My Lady’s toiletry. She is expected downstairs in the briefest—most negligible—delay,” stated Naruto frigidly.
He dropped the bucket beside Sakura where it clunked against the carpeted floor. With that, he turned on his heel and left, snapping the door shut behind him.
Sparks coursed under Sakura’s palms as her mortified rage built. “I’m going to murder that—”
“It’s an improvement.”
She whipped around to glare at her lady-in-waiting. Ino was by now sitting up in Sakura’s bed and looking over Sakura who dripped in a puddle on the floor. A small pile of leaves, twigs and straw sat beside her freshly re-plaited, moonlight braid.
Steam began to rise off and around Sakura.
“Wait until we clean you up before drying off,” sighed Ino, standing.
Sakura growled under her breath.
“My Lady Sakura of the House of Haruno, Fairest of her Kind, Kindest of her Kin, Gentlest in all of Nature,” announced Naruto upon Sakura’s arrival and without a hint of sarcasm.
She would have to tell Ino to delay his execution. If she remembered.
“Here we are, I told you she was real.”
Sakura’s father, the King of the Haruno Kingdom, rose and opened his arms to her. She leaned in and warmly returned the embrace, grateful for the honey-lemon losenges Ino had given her to soothe her throat and calm her toxic breath.
“I apologize for the delay, I was deep in prayer,” replied Sakura, kissing her father’s cheek. He squeezed her arms in forgiveness and her embarrassment ebbed. “Good afternoon, Father.”
He chuckled as she pulled away and took her place to stand beside him.
“And grown even more beautiful than her mother was before her,” said a deep male voice from the left.
Sakura turned, her perfectly practiced polite smile already in place as she took in the tall, imposing, dark-haired man with piercing eyes.
She blinked.
Her father’s grip on her wrist tightened in warning.
“Good afternoon,” said Sakura, her chin and eyes graciously dipping as she’d been taught. “Your Majesty.”
“It has been some time, Lady Sakura.”
“Too long,” replied Sakura pleasantly.
“King Uchiha has come to discuss several important matters and I wanted you to join us. This kingdom will be yours in the future and you must have a say in it,” said Sakura’s father, King Kizashi Haruno. “Likewise, King Uchiha has brought his heir, Crown Prince Sasuke, to participate in the meeting. We thought you two may enjoy getting to know each other.”
Sakura’s smile was pasted on as she scanned the room for the prince. The King’s attendant remained stationed at the door, but she saw no one else about. Odd.
Sculptures dotted the room’s landscape while screens, paintings and tapestries adorned the walls, providing a cozy, if possibly cluttered atmosphere with the fire in the fireplace to warm them. There were plenty of hiding spots, or perhaps opportunities for concealment would be a better term, and she had been quite late. So Sakura waited, patiently, for the young man.
He did not make himself known.
Sakura glanced up at King Uchiha to find his expression had tightened a fraction and did not envy the Crown Prince his next private tête-à-tête with his father.
The delay offered Sakura the opportunity to study the man before her an extra moment while he turned towards the window, taking a deep breath. The breadth of his shoulders and the way he moved proved he was strong, and capable. His proud posture gave her a clear idea of his demeanour. He still wore his gloves, but she had not spied a wedding ring up on his finger. Not a streak of silver marred his mane of raven wing hair, either. Was he in his mid-thirties? Dare she estimate, at the outset, his early forties? Interesting. He didn’t appear old enough to have an heir her age.
A sudden thought assailed her and left her pale.
Oh no, he hadn’t brought a child, had he?
She refused to marry a babe.
A sick heaviness sank in Sakura’s stomach—already ill-equipped for the surprise visit and guests—and she turned to her father.
“Perhaps if he’s shy we can arrange for a meeting another—”
“I’m not shy.”
“Sasuke,” intoned King Uchiha in a low voice. “Please, join us.”
From behind a high-backed settee appeared Sasuke. The tall, slender young man was thankfully closer to her own age, possibly a bit older and thankfully much more handsome than she had anticipated.
Her stomach fluttered.
Perhaps this wouldn’t be as bad as she originally—
Sasuke looked her up and down and turned to his King. “Where is she?”
Madara’s lips pursed and Sakura’s knuckles made an audible crack in the suddenly quiet room.
“Are you her lady-in-waiting? Go get your mistress,” said Sasuke to Sakura. “And do something with your face, your complexion is sallow.”
“Sasuke, please introduce yourself to Her Highness, Crown Princess Sakura Haruno.”
Nephew.
Crown Prince.
Prick.
He resembled King Uchiha, with his dark eyes, dark hair, pale skin.
A resounding crack sounded through the room.
—though his cheek was quickly deepening to purple, his head thrown to the side from Sakura’s open palm.
“No one insults me in my home. Get out,” she said to Sasuke. She turned to King Uchiha. “You are welcome to remain, Your Highness,” she said, adding a demure curtsy.
Sasuke stared at her, his eyes bulging from his face. He held his wounded cheek, the contusion blossoming behind it. A trickle of blood seeped from behind his lips and he wiped it away with his sleeve.
King Uchiha, however, arched a brow and regarded her with increasing interest.
“Thank you,” said King Kizashi to his daughter later that afternoon when he and Sakura were alone in the room.
The fire crackled cheerfully in the hearth and he took a sip of his ale. He leaned in his handsomely carved walnut chair to speak under his breath to her. “If I’d done it, it would have caused a real kerfuffle.”
Relaxed and seated beside him in her matching chair, Sakura patted his arm with fondness. “Anytime. Do you still plan on negotiating?”
“We’ll see. I think Madara will have a strong talk with that heir of his before he comes back to ask anything of us.”
Confident footsteps approached.
“Good,” said Sakura, straightening.
The guard opened the parlour door to allow King Uchiha to enter again.
Sasuke was not with him.
She smiled at their guest more genuinely. “Have you sent some baggage back to your rooms?”
“To the inn,” said King Uchiha. “I look forward to your hospitality.”
“And we your company,” said Sakura.
Something passed behind his eyes that had Sakura unconsciously leaning forward.
“Speaking of bags, please accept this small token of appreciation from… me,” said King Uchiha.
Unsure how to interpret his lower voice and gentler tone, Sakura tilted her head in interest.
King Uchiha’s attendant stepped forward and several guards followed him in bearing a large, ornate chest.
“Happiest of birthdays, Lady Sakura.”
She gently bit the side of her tongue to temper her reaction to the way he spoke her name.
This version of the King was a smooth talker, she was finding. When he wished to be, that is.
“Thank you very much, Your Highness. Please enjoy your stay with us.”
“This is too generous, Madara! I told you, she would have been happy with a book!” fussed King Kizashi.
Already books were rare and incredibly expensive in their kingdom. Sakura had personally copied many for a public library to be established, using her own funds, but it was a luxury few kingdoms could afford, let alone share with their populace.
“Then We hope she enjoys the work inside. You undertook medical studies, did you not?” said Madara, his eyes on Sakura again.
“Yes, how did you know?”
Here, his attention passed to her father and Sakura shook her head.
“I promised to focus on the kingdom,” she said, addressing her king.
“But medicine in your passion, my darling one,” said King Kizashi, patting her arm this time. “Let us indulge you.”
Sakura stood and curtsied to King Uchiha. “Thank you very much for such a generous treasure, Your Highness.”
“We may set aside courtesies in private,” said Madara as his attendant and soldiers departed the room, leaving the trio alone again. “Please call me Madara.”
“I couldn’t.”
“What would it take to convince you?” he asked, leaning forward in his seat towards her.
“Time, at the very least, Your Highness.”
“Ah,” said Madara softly. He leaned back and propped his head up on his hand, his elbow upon the armrest of his cushioned chair. “Is that all?”
“Time cannot be purchased or gifted,” said Sakura.
“Only enjoyed, when in fine company,” agreed Madara.
A hint of a smile touched his lips.
It fascinated Sakura for a moment.
Snake, warned an inner part of herself. Be careful.
Snakes are drawn to warmth and most just want to be left alone, she countered.
His snake is very much looking for the opposite of solitude, snapped her inner self.
Sakura swallowed down the giggle that rose in her, covering it with her kerchief as she cleared her throat. “Forgive me, a small cough.”
“May I ask if you’ve had a chance to check on your horses since you arrived, Madara? We expanded and renovated the stables two years ago. I know you always had an eye for good horseflesh,” said King Kizashi, standing.
“That I have. I was hoping to negotiate with you regarding one of your mares,” said Madara, standing in time with Sakura. “Perhaps your daughter would care to join us?”
“It would take too long to fetch my cloak,” said Sakura. “Another time.”
“That means she wants us gone so she can dive into the new books you got her,” teased King Kizashi, elbowing King Uchiha.
“Have I created too great a distraction in your life? My apologies,” said King Uchiha insincerely to Sakura.
“You’re not sorry in the least,” said Sakura, trying not to smile.
His lips curled into a smirk at her when her father’s back was turned.
“No,” he agreed. His gaze was intense and held her captive, drawing all the air from the room for a moment, before he released her. He nodded at her. “Until we next meet, My Lady.”
“Keep warm, Your Highness.”
“No risk of getting cold with me.”
Passing Sakura another cold compress, Ino lay back on her divan.
“I’m not supposed to share your bed,” remarked Ino.
Sakura adjusted the compress on her aching forehead.
“I promise I won’t tell anyone,” said Sakura, stretched out beside Ino on the divan. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Ino stretched, curling on her side on the divan to observe her lady. “Exactly how smitten are you with him?”
“More curious than smitten. It’s obvious he’s here to negotiate something important to him. Likely my kingdom and dowry.”
She turned the page in the book she had chosen from the new treasure trove the servants had moved to her room.
At some point, someone had refreshed the flowers in the vase on her desk. Now it was handsomely arranged with an array of familiar herbs that leant a fragrant spice to the air.
“He’s doing a rather good job of it so far.”
“The way to My Lady’s pants is through her mind.”
“This is a very attractive offer.”
“Remember to say no to the first offer.”
“I can enjoy what the offer has on offer, first, and decide how much to say no to,” mused Sakura aloud, reading another passage. This book focused on physiology in leprosy victims, making it akin to poetry to her. The illustrations were graphically lurid.
It was possibly her favourite gift in years.
Well, there was one gift it may not top…
She bit her lip as she read a particularly horrible description of facial structural decay. Unconsciously lifting her left hand, her fingers wove a pattern in the air as she read along; soon, a web of light glimmered, suspended between herself and Ino.
“You’re doing it again,” murmured Ino, reaching across to stroke the shimmering, shivering sigils with her delicate pointer finger.
“With this, I think I can figure out how to protect myself so I can finally go to the colony and cure the victims,” said Sakura eagerly. “Or at least stop the spread.” Her voice softened. “They suffer so terribly.”
“You do more than most to help,” reminded Ino.
“I can always do more,” said Sakura, turning the page. “Oh! This one talks about the failed treatments! Perfect. Is my notebook nearby?”
“Yes, My Lady,” said Ino.
The blonde rolled to her other side and patted beneath the divan, pulling out the notebook and writing board. The writing board had a latch on the back which allowed it to fold outward, and a drawer with quills and inkwell nestled in the bottom of the frame.
As Ino opened the quill drawer, the corner of an envelope poked up and through the gap.
Ino slowed, gently removing the envelope and passing it to Sakura.
Saying nothing, Sakura tucked it up inside her sleeve.
“Ink?”
“Black,” said Sakura, holding the healing spell in her hand and studying it.
Ino set up the writing board on the divan and held the inkwell pot and sand while her mistress furiously scribbled down her thoughts.
#
“Clear,” murmured Ino, as she and Sakura entered one of the secret passages that passed beside Sakura’s private chambers.
Sakura nodded and followed her lady-in-waiting into the darkness, a candle held aloft to light their way. Her headache had not yet abated and straining her eyes in the dark—or tripping over a loose stone—did not appeal to her. Throughout the castle’s halls, the preparations for Sakura’s birthday feast bubbled, scurried, pounded and hammered away. This particular passage was the closest thing she had to peace that evening, especially since the winter had not yet released the land from its frigid clutches for spring. Worse, a storm looked to be building based on the heavy gray clouds and high winds. Everyone who could work indoors was slaving away indoors, which had done wonders for her headache.
Fortunately, she had celebrated early the night before with her other colleagues.
Tonight, however, was for the kingdom at large.
Sakura handed the candle to Ino and reached into her sleeve, only to pause, tilting her ear to the side.
“Back,” said Sakura softly, a niggling in her stomach and senses.
She and Ino barely had time to return the tapestry to its proper place behind them to conceal the passage entrance, its hem brushing their heels, before the barest of knocks sounded at the servants’ passageway door and someone let themselves in.
Ino automatically shifted to position herself in front of Sakura, but Sakura touched her shoulder and she took a step back.
A ghost stood before them.
“It’s too early,” said Sakura quietly, rather than greeting him.
Around them, Ino’s nimble fingers wove the invisible strands in the air together to muffle their conversation.
The tall, slender young man in white robes eyed her patiently with his sage eyes. The twin crimson tattoos on his unlined brow stared down at her assessingly.
“There are snakes about the castle,” said Kimimaro. “Some are concerned for your safety.”
Sakura couldn’t help her own brow quirking.
“I noticed,” she said.
His gaze shifted to the trunk of books, the corner of which could be seen through the doorway into her reading room and private library.
“Buying your affection?” His derisive tone clearly conveyed his thoughts on the sender.
Inhaling deeply and nodding once, Kimimaro’s eyes roamed the room suspiciously once again.
Sakura could not in good conscience blame him for being paranoid. The bounty on his head was one of the highest in the kingdom. The way his attention lingered on the corner and leg of her desk, where her writing board leaned, quill freshly cleaned, pricked at her unease.
She turned to take a seat there and gestured to a settee, but he remained standing where he was.
“Are you looking for something specific or can I get on with my business?”
“Someone has been here.”
“Someone is in here right now.”
“Someone from outside,” clarified Kimimaro.
The disowned former druid scanned the room again. “Someone like me but not me; someone like your visitor but not your visitor.”
Ino and Sakura looked at each other.
“I’ll have extra guards on duty for the next few days due to the celebrations,” said Sakura. Ino nodded.
Kimimaro may no longer hold his position of druidic leader, but he positively rang with formidable power. If he was warning her, then he had sensed something genuine.
Sasuke, wondered Sakura as she considered the warning. Had anyone escorted him or had he been left to his own devices to find the inn earlier that afternoon? But why go to her rooms? He hadn’t been interested in her in the slightest and had appeared relieved when his uncle had sent him away.
Still…
With Sakura’s wave, Ino let the barrier drop.
“Thank you for your insight,” she said genuinely.
“Remember our arrangement,” said Kimimaro, gliding to the servants’ passage door.
With that, he departed.
#
The toasts rang through the torch-lit, festive hall, the food hot and tasty, the music serene and flowing. Sakura’s birthday usually rang in the first days of spring but that year, it gathered the castle’s inhabitants and guests for merrymaking on a stormy night. The stables were full, the horses warm and just as well fed as their masters.
—and Sakura’s teeth grated as she was politely praised for her ‘grace, poise, and ladyship’s finer qualities’ for the umpteenth time.
Ino slipped her a painkilling tonight in her mead and Sakura nodded at her in gratitude.
Thank the gods she had celebrated with her real friends the night before.
It hadn’t been in a great hall, but an abandoned monastery.
The mead hadn’t been of honey but rather ale, made of malted barley and hops aged in contraband oak barrels.
The feast hadn’t been delectable tiny portions of vegetables, sweet meats and beef pies but roasted turkey legs, a wild boar with smashed strawberries she had licked the sweet juices off her wrist, and that someone else had licked from her throat…
She jolted as Ino subtly kicked her chair.
Not that she was still thinking of the incredible things he’d been able to do with his tongue after, when she had dragged him into a pile of hay and furs, much to their compatriots’ raucous delight and cheers. That had unfortunately delayed her and Ino’s return to the castle to the wee morning hours, minus her shift and one of her stockings.
The music last night had been lively with jigs and reels, her company loud and brash, her gifts their camaraderie and acceptance. In fact, she had gifted them each a set of coins to ensure they could stay abed a day or three to sleep off their hangovers without concern for their suppers.
She had hoped to do the same.
A hand extended towards her caught her attention and Sakura smiled serenely at the offeror.
“A dance, My Lady?”
“Are you not tired of dancing, King Uchiha?” He had politely asked several noblemen’s wives, widows and daughters to dance. Sakura had suspected there would be business deals to follow in the coming days and memorized who he entertained.
His words brought her back to the moment.
“Are you reneging on your promise of time, Lady Sakura?”
Accepting his hand, Sakura rose to her feet and joined him, the crowd parting around them. To the far, far rear of the ballroom, Sakura spotted a scowling crown prince and a chatty blond man seated together on the edge of the room by one of the exits to the gardens. They were surrounded by courtly nobles, all women.
Sasuke’s misery warmed her heart. If, and when, he apologized, she would reconsider her attitude toward him. Until then, he could suffer.
“Did I make any such promise, Your Highness?” asked Sakura as he took her other hand and they circled each other on light feet.
His strength and agility surprised her and he moved fluidly through the movements.
“Perhaps your promise was more what I interpreted and less what you intended.”
“That would seem more appropriate.”
He spun her, lifting her from her waist as if she weighed less than a cloud.
Sakura swallowed.
“Are you enjoying them?”
He gazed into her eyes and once again the air slowly retreated from the room, leaving her captive in his arms. Her stomach swooped as his fingers grazed her knuckles.
“The books?”
“Yes.”
“Very much.”
“I’m glad I chose well. I had to guess at which would bring you the most pleasure to read.”
“You seem more than adept at rising to the occasion, Your Highness.”
His chuckle was warm and coated her insides with honey.
Snak—
Let him shower me with more books first before we kick him out, snapped Sakura at her inner self.
Her head pounded as he settled her on her feet again to gasps and applause from the rest of the gathered nobles.
“What is going on in there, I wonder,” he mused aloud.
“In where,” asked Sakura, glancing around, slightly breathless.
“In that beautiful mind of yours,” said King Uchiha.
“Nothing,” said Sakura confidently. “I am but a demure woman, limp of spirit and feeble of aptitude.”
His burst of laughter sent heat rushing to her face.
“Do you actually fool anyone?”
“Everyone who wishes to be fooled will see only what he wants to see,” assured Sakura.
“So that’s how you get around them.”
“I am afraid I am so dimwitted I could not possibly follow Your Highness’s words. Oh no, please summon a capable man to think for me.”
He ducked his chin, pressing his lips together. When he lifted his face again, the corners of his eyes creased with mirth.
“Sasuke would never have been a good match for you.”
“I am grateful for Your Highness’ vast and miraculous insight.”
“You would have run circles around him,” he mused, spinning her again. “Entertaining, for sure, but not what you seek if I were to hazard a guess.”
This time, Sakura knew to expect it and enjoyed the swirl through the air, her toes free of the floor for a breath before he gently returned her to earth again.
“All of which would have been to your benefit,” added Madara.
“I do not seek a husband to trick, please or outmaneuver,” said Sakura honestly. “The Crown Prince and I may be social equals, but neither of us would have been happy with the union no matter how it benefited our kingdoms.”
“I see now that now.”
“How lucky the kingdom of Uchiha is to have such a wise ruler.”
He tapped her fingers, still held in his hand, in mock reproof.
“Neither of us is a tyrant. Tyrants do not good husbands or fathers make.”
“No,” agreed Sakura. “But we reached the end of our song.”
The musicians lifted their harps and lutes and another rousing, semi-lullaby filled the room to the rafters.
“Is this where I leave you?”
“I think it best,” replied Sakura, slipping her hand from his.
After a half-breath, he released her waist, his fingers trailing over the soft folds of her dress as he did so.
“May I ask for another dance in the future?”
“I can’t see the future, Your Highness.”
“Then we’ll discover it together. In more time.”
He bowed to her as she curtsied to him and they separated, Sakura catching Ino’s eyes as she passed her. Ino fell into step beside Sakura as she walked around the great hall, greeting new guests and chatting with her fellow nobles. Some she hadn’t seen at all in the past four months due to the heavy winter snowfalls over the valley and mountain passes, and she was moved and grateful they had made the effort to join her that day. She made sure to greet each and every one. As the night wore on and the candles burned low, the music continued but at an even more sedate tempo. The room had warmed considerably and her exhaustion nipped at her heels like an annoying tea-cup dog.
Fanning herself, Sakura paused as she passed by one of the tall windows, staring out into the blizzard. She could barely see beyond the sheltered balcony, the whiteness and darkness blurring together.
Then, beneath her skin, a gentle buzz lifted the hair on her arms.
Her breath caught.
Phantom strawberries glazed her tongue.
“What do you need?” asked Ino, leaning close enough to whisper in Sakura’s ear.
Sakura’s chest rose and fell more quickly.
“My heaviest cloak.”
“You shouldn’t have come.”
The wind tore around the most sheltered balcony of the castle, the one half a storey from Sakura’s chambers, but neither wind, nor snow nor hail could reach the area of the outcropping itself due to its design with the elements in mind.
Slipping from the shadows, the hooded man with the masked eyes stood over Sakura, staring down into her eyes with his dark, inky ones.
Clad in black, he blended into the night, usually. But that evening, the snow and ice built up on his shoulders and scarf, gilding him like an ice prince.
“You look beautiful.”
Clutching her cloak and cowl tightly in her leather-gloved hands, Sakura shook her head.
“You promised.”
“When one of us is compromised, the rest shall avenge them,” he said, stepping forward.
“I’m not compromised.”
“Not any more than last night,” he suggested silkily.
Her cheeks heated.
“I know the dangers. I’m working towards something important. It will help so many people,” she said. “But I can’t bring our worlds together yet. Please, don’t tell the others who I am. I trusted you with my secret.”
He took a step closer, then another, the heels of his tough leather boots clacking against the stones beneath his soles. Tufts of snow from his broad shoulders rained down onto the parapet around them.
“You walk between worlds. Why not I?”
Sakura’s brows drew together.
“We’re highwaymen, Stryder. We can’t,” she said, shaking her head.
“We can always learn each other’s secrets… the few that remain.”
“Please,” she said, reaching for the lapels of his cloak that had slipped loose.
She tugged on them and he lowered his head in submission. Looking up, she caressed his long hair beneath his hood, wishing she could touch it with her bare hands rather than with her gloves, but the chill already snuck beneath her cloak, nipping at her skin.
“Don’t do anything that would force my hand,” she whispered, pressing her face into his pale, icy cheek. His mask was damp from melted snow and his stubble rubbed at her skin. “I would hate watching your head fall from your shoulders. Don’t do that to me.”
“I do not wish to see you fall from grace but I know your enemy far better than you do. If you need me, I will be near,” he said softly.
His gloved hands lifted and he stroked her cheeks fondly.
“Did you get my letter?”
“Yes.”
“And the herbs?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He gently lifted her chin and Sakura, her hands still tucked inside his hood, pulled him down to her lips.
Warmth and pleasure and strawberries tickled her tongue and she smiled into him.
“Be safe, my chief, my captain,” she whispered as they pulled apart.
She swallowed as he backed away, memorizing his every movement.
“Be safe, my love,” he replied. “Happy birthday, Sakura.”
Her heart swelled as he disappeared into the night, her lips still hot from his kiss.
She wouldn’t notice until later that night that he had slipped a pendant of pink and green pearls around her throat while he kissed her goodbye.
For four days and nights the storm raged before eventually petering out and leaving the land covered in a sheen of ice.
Fair winds and the sun broke through the following week and with them, warmer temperatures, earlier mornings and later nights.
The melting snow wrought havoc on the roads however, preventing King Madara and his caravan from returning to the Kingdom of Uchiha. While he set up Sasuke and Suigetsu in the nearby town, he remained at the castle enjoying the King’s hospitality… and the Princess’ proximity.
They passed each other in the hall between each of their respective duties, be they diplomatic, social or economic, and ate their meals together with Sakura’s father when he was available.
The change in routine suited them, for the time being, though Sakura was unsure how she felt about having someone of King Uchiha’s standing in her home for so long. Several days was one thing; but he had yet to declare an official date of return.
Ino promised to keep her ears to the ground for whispers.
#
The local monasteries taught only the young men of the village; Sakura would teach anyone. She may not have gone to one of the universities, but her father had encouraged her throughout her life with her studies, insisting it would help make her a better ruler in the future. She had always been grateful to him for his support.
Except on that particular day, where teaching the little monsters wore through her last, frayed shred of patience. Her students, the castle staff’s children, were fussy and uncooperative, distracted by the nicer weather after having been cooped up inside for a week during the storms.
“Cloaks, boots, hats and mittens, all of you!” she called out, exasperated. “We’re going outside.”
A cheer erupted and they scrambled to the cloak room off the abbey where their cloaks had hung to dry. For any of the children with less to wear, she offered them the ‘extras’ she had ‘outgrown’… Fortunately, none had ever asked why she also kept boy’s or men’s clothing around and she had no intention of indulging questions of that nature, either.
As one lad, in his teens, lifted two young children in his arms and over the threshold, Sakura noticed he wore an old coat of her captain’s, its sleeves patched at the elbows with thick broadcloth and cuffs well-worn and re-mended over and over again with care.
Her gaze softened, imagining her co-brigand as a younger man. He would never fit into the coat now, he had grown so tall. She wondered what he had looked like as a boy. He had appeared in her wood one night when she had been out with her band. Unconscious with a battery of wounds, she hadn’t been sure at first if she would be able to save him; but he had pulled through.
“You have my service until the end of our days,” he’d sworn to her as he’d recovered.
“Then look after yourself better,” she’d bitten off, irritated he had tried to move before he should and thus forced her to stitch him up, again. “I can’t stay beside you day and night.”
“May I have the opportunity to change your mind.”
“No,” she assured him.
He’d chuckled weakly.
The children bounded around, several picking up a sled they had dragged with them that morning. Ah. So they were heading to the hill? Well, climbing it a few times would certainly tucker them out. She may even be able to convince them to nap that afternoon so she could continue her research.
Following after them, she tightened her cloak around herself and adjusted her scarf as the wind picked up, blowing a last puff of snow stinging across her cheeks.
“Your nose wrinkles like a rabbit’s when you’re cold,” remarked a male voice from behind her.
“And your boots are heavier than a cattle’s hooves,” shot back Sakura, glancing over her shoulder to find King Uchiha approaching her. His boots, indeed, left heavy dents in the snow and muck. His navy cloak trailed in the deep snow, his hood down revealing his long, wild hair.
“Careful, it’s icy on that path. It’s better to take the route to the left of the dogwood.”
He nodded. Then a small smile curled at the corners of his lips as he followed a path blazed by a dozen tiny bootprints.
“They’re energetic,” he said, his voice warm and amused.
“If you wish to teach them after lunch, you’re more than welcome,” said Sakura, waiting for him to catch up.
He chuckled.
They continued on together, the children not too far ahead and always within sight. At one point, Sakura turned to a guard tower and waved her hand, whistling twice. Within a minute or so, a pair of guards and a small pack of wolf hounds emerged, following after them at a close distance.
The King’s eyes narrowed before he took in the forested hillside and how quickly its shadows darkened with thick coniferous boughs and branches.
Sakura nodded.
“The wolves come that close?” he asked, studying the wood.
“When they’re hungry. It’s been a long winter,” she said seriously. “We try to send feeders out to them so they don’t come close, but the storm prevented us doing even that much.”
They reached a tall hill and watched the children whoop and cheer as they hurtled down on the sled, snow shooting out behind them.
Unable to help herself, Sakura smiled.
The King studied her thoughtfully.
“You wish you were on there, too.”
“Yes, sometimes. But today I must be the designated Responsible Shepherd and watch over my flock,” she said.
“I won’t distract you. Too much,” he added.
“You’re a peacock, Your Highness. You do so by design.”
He chuckled. She grinned, watching her students hustle clumsily up the incline, dragging the sled behind them.
“Do you normally speak to other sovereigns so casually?”
She debated lying but didn’t doubt he already knew the answer to his own question.
“No,” she said.
“May I ask why you feel so free in my presence?”
Crossing her arms, Sakura tilted her head side to side as she considered her response.
“You would see through any pretense I put up,” she admitted. “And I would rather our Kingdoms be friends. We both benefit from being allies.”
He nodded once, his eyes focused on the woods.
Sakura smiled.
He watched for wolves while she watched the children enjoy themselves. Around them, the guards had fanned out and sent their hounds into the forests every so often, scouting for evidence of trouble.
“May I ask you something more personal?”
“You may ask; it is up to me to decide if I wish to answer.”
“Always,” he said. “What is it you seek in life, My Lady?”
“What all in our position do,” she replied. “The best possible outcome and life for all our people.”
“Not for your people; for yourself.”
“Hmmm,” mused Sakura as the next group of children shot down the hill on the sled, screaming in joy and terror. She couldn’t help her expression softening at their glee.
Beside her, the King’s body heat rose off him and warmed her side.
“If not for your position, what would you do,” he said, when she did not answer.
“You already know that. Medicine,” she said. “You?”
“I seek to know more about your personal life without prying about you via your servants’ gossip.”
“They will tell you what you want to hear.”
“They did,” he replied, a touch of frustration in his voice.
Sakura grinned.
“They’re loyal to the kingdom, it isn’t personal,” she said, taking her eyes off the children for a moment to meet his gaze.
“What if I would appreciate an opportunity to make things more personal?” he asked quietly.
The thud in her heart was practically audible.
“I am still deciding how to answer your question,” she said honestly, slowly. “What about you, Your Highness?”
“What about me?”
“What would you like, personally? Forgive me for saying this indelicately, but instead of fathering your own heir, you chose a relative. Why? Surely you do not lack for company in your kingdom. There is no dearth in your attractiveness.”
He grinned, his cheeks widening as he glanced down at her. She turned back to the children, her cheeks burning—from the wind and snow.
“I didn’t name an heir until recently because I didn’t want them fighting amongst themselves or each other,” he admitted, after the moment stretched. “It would have put a target on their back. When Sasuke came of age and showed the most promise of any of his peers, I selected him.”
“How has he taken it?”
Sakura took pity the King at his heavy sigh, humming sympathetically.
“He does well at home. He does not enjoy being outside his realm of comfort.”
“Really? I never would have guessed.”
The King huffed and looked to the horizon.
“Has anyone ever told you, My Lady, that your words cut like knives?”
“Only you, Your Highness,” she lied.
One other, had.
The King didn’t need to know who, though.
“You haven’t answered, Your Highness.”
“Neither have you, My Lady.” He scanned the woods again. “Is this how it would be? Keeping our most private selves to ourselves?” he asked quietly.
He referred, obviously, to what it would be like if they were to unite their kingdoms together in holy matrimony. Would this be what their life together would be like.
“It isn’t what I would want, no,” answered Sakura.
With anyone.
“That’s why,” he said, turning from the trees to look at her intently.
“Why you didn’t what?”
“Marry. I have no desire to hold back from the one I love. I would give her everything she longed for, be it wealth, power… or bairn.”
Sakura swallowed. She struggled to look away from him, captured by his focused gaze.
“And I would hate if she held anything back from me,” he said silkily, his eyes caressing her rosy cheeks, bright eyes and elegant brow.
“We are alike in that desire,” agreed Sakura, swallowing and tearing her eyes away to focus on the children again.
Accepting her response and unspoken request for additional time, the King shifted a half step closer to her in the snow but made no other move or comment towards her, merely standing guard by her side.
For now.
