Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters and the main plot of Naruto belongs to the one and only Masashi Kishimoto. Nor do I own the plot of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. The song that inspired this oneshot belongs to Heather Dale.
(I suggest listening to the song while reading this piece as it sets the mood.)
Inspired by Mordred's Lullaby by Heather Dale
"Sasuke, put the knife down."
The chamber was dank and cold with only a single torch providing light. The musty smell of dust and dead rodents permeated the air and stung the nostrils of whoever was unfortunate enough to inhale them. The vaulted ceilings allowed some moisture to drip down the room, the sound mocking the silence that enveloped the room.
Two figures stood facing each other—one lithe and muscular and trembling while pointing a knife towards a rigid petite, fragile form.
"Sasuke—"
"QUIET!" the taller figure hissed and lunged dangerously towards the smaller one. The man (boy) called Sasuke narrowed his eyes as he watched his prey start at the sound of his rough tone and took a small step back. "Do not tell me what to do, Princess."
Sakura, the girl (woman) whom he called Princess, stubbornly stood her ground and raised her chin, trying to maintain her dignity under the presence of fear and under the guise of grace and poise.
"Sasuke, please, liste—"
"I said, QUIET, Sakura!" Sasuke spat. His eyes blurring with unshed tears—of rage, of guilt, he did not know.
Please do not make this any harder for me.
His insides clenched at the sight of her quivering lower lip—the one that he had kissed and worshipped since the day he realized that—no. He must not think of such things. He had a job to do. He had his loyalty to prove.
Your loyalty lies with me and to me alone.
The sharp, scathing, threatening voice rang in his mind and in his ears. His grip on the blade's hilt tightened as he inched towards Sakura.
You must not allow them—him—happiness when he has deprived us of ours.
He looked at the woman before him; her light, exotic features glimmered eerily in the dim glow of the burning brand. Her glassy imploring eyes weakened his resolve and his mind went back to the events that had led to this moment.
He was a bastard.
And it was only by Fate's design that his mother was also a bastard.
People on the streets give him these looks as if they have been given the right by Heaven to judge his being. He grew up with it, though. He was uncomfortable at first, he admits. But soon, he got used to it.
Damned hypocrites, his mother had called them.
Of course, she had dealt with it too, when she was younger and naive and innocent. The circumstances of their birth were far too similar that it was humorous.
They were not just any bastards.
They were bastards of the men who were chosen by Kami himself to lead and serve and protect the Kingdom.
Mikoto was the bastard daughter sired by the late king Madara Uchiha. Her mother was an apothecary who had been later accused of secretly dabbling in the Dark Arts. She was dragged and paraded and humiliated in front of the whole village and called a harlot and a whore. The king turned a blind eye to all of this and even allowed the townspeople to burn the woman at the stake. The only evidence of his compassion was leaving Mikoto—the fruit of his inappropriate fornicate union with the apothecary—in the care of the nuns in the Abbey. He hoped that she would not be 'involved' with the Devil as her mother did before.
Little he knew that the girl Mikoto would willingly sell her soul to Lucifer himself if only to extract vengeance and drag Madara to hell with her.
History repeated itself when one fateful day, sixteen-year-old Mikoto met Prince Fugaku, the heir of her (damned) father. Young and lustful, he easily fell for her charms and soon, she found herself pregnant with a child—his child. Another bastard.
The baby was born nine moons later and she named him Itachi. Fugaku, unknowing of Mikoto's identity, promised to marry her once he becomes king. He was just a child of fifteen then and he was full of foolish hopes and ideals. He got her pregnant again, a year later, and the girl Mikoto began to feel hope that she had never felt before. She was going to get what she deserved, at long last. She deserved a family, love, a crown and a throne—things that should have been hers to begin with. The claws of darkness slowly retracted its clutch from her heart.
But happiness was never meant to be hers. When sickness and war plagued the kingdom, Prince Fugaku decided that he should stop playing house with that poor orphaned girl whom he had sired a son and an unborn child out of wedlock with. He left despite her wretched cries and her reminders of promises made. He took on the mantle and the crown and sat on the throne beside the already ailing King Madara.
Mikoto's heart was broken once again but she decided to remain strong for her two children. However, fate was not done with dealing its cards for her son, Itachi succumbed to the sickness and passed away.
The darkness that had loomed over Mikoto's life since the death of her mother once again engulfed her being as well as her sanity. She cursed the kingdom and its God damned rulers and called upon them the wrath of both Heaven and Hell. She was inconsolable. She was broken beyond repair.
She was mad.
When her child—another son—was born, she named him Sasuke. She raised him as a doting mother should, shielded him from the hypocrites that swarm the village and the kingdom and fed him the hatred that had drowned her heart for so long. She nurtured him with ideas of revenge and sang him lullabies of twisted comeuppance and often reminded him that his loyalty must always, always stay with her.
They were done wrong by the world and they only have each other and that is how it must stay.
She tells him of his rightful inheritance. She was the King Madara's first child after all and Sasuke was the sole heir since Fugaku is not yet married. They were both victims of Fate's injustice that by Heaven's divine edict, they should be the ones wearing the mantle and the crown.
Sasuke grew up to be an obedient son to his mother. She was all he has in this wretched, accursed world and he was hers. Mikoto's happiness was his happiness and nothing would give Mikoto great delight than to have her revenge and see Sasuke get his birthright.
Sasuke has to be King.
For fifteen years, the plans were coming to fruition as Fugaku still haven't found a suitable woman to be his bride. This was the sign Mikoto was waiting for. Fate itself compensates for its injustice.
Foiled schemes soon came in the form of a rose-haired, emerald-eyed child.
Fugaku had finally chosen a bride. She was a princess from a distant kingdom and she was just the same age as Sasuke, younger even. It was an arrangement of convenience. The princess's line was known to be fertile and she is one of the four girls in a brood with seven sons. Her oldest sister already bore three sons and a daughter in her first five years of marriage, and her other two sisters already have boys of their own. Fugaku saw this fertility beneficial to his reign and has requested for the hand of the youngest princess who was said to be the least pretty.
The kingdom however, was in awe of the young princess. She was exotic in colouring and has an air of innocence that is almost captivating. She was not the prettiest in her family but when she entered the kingdom's borders, she was hailed the most beautiful creature that their eyes had ever laid upon.
Her laughter was airy and her eyes were light and Fugaku was taken with her at first glance. She was born with the grace and dignity of a princess and a shoulder that held rigid against the weight of duty; nevertheless, she brought life to the stiff, dreary court.
Mikoto knew that time was of essence. She had to take different measures in order to secure her son's happiness and future.
"She is young," she tells Sasuke. "She knows not the entirety of a woman's duties in the bedchamber. As long as she is not bearing a son, we are still on track."
Sasuke knows his mother too well.
"What do you need me to do, Mother?"
"Distract her," she instructs. "She must not in any case, think about begetting an heir. Befriend her, earn her trust, and let yourself be her confidante until she falls for your charms. Young girls like her are easily swayed. Use it to your advantage."
"Is that all you'll have me do?"
"Be wary of a woman's wiles," Mikoto warned. "The time has come for you to prove your loyalty to me. You will avenge your grandmother and your brother. You will avenge me and yourself and get us out of our misery."
"I shall not waver in my loyalty to you, Mother," Sasuke assured firmly, the stirrings of vengeance swirled inside his hate-ridden heart. "I shall make our goals come to fruition. I shall not disappoint you."
And so, it began. Fugaku accepted Sasuke and acknowledged him as his bastard son. He even introduced him to his young wife who was ecstatic in meeting a stepson who was the same age as her. Sasuke became a part of the stables and the new Queen's love for riding gave him the opportunity to become closer to her and befriend her. She was wary of him at first, fearing that he might hold a grudge against her for being his father's bride. But he concealed any distaste he held for her and soon, she began to loosen up to him and jokingly referred to him as son. She was kind to him and always put in a good word for him to the King.
As his mother predicted, she started confiding in him. She talked about the rolling hills and the sakura trees and the ever flowing rivers in the land she left behind. She spoke highly of her brothers and sisters and her nieces and nephews and her mother and father and her cousins whom she loved with all her heart. She confessed of her despair when she heard that she had to marry someone who is almost more than twice her age and she would have preferred marrying a mere peasant if it meant staying with her family, in her kingdom, and as long as she loved him and he loved her back.
Despite his misgivings, Sasuke found himself listening to her stories with keen ears and heavily veiled interest. Soon, he would find himself denying that the attention he paid her were genuine.
It was all an act, he would convince himself.
It was only a matter of time before he would slowly let his pretences down and bask himself in even the tiniest sliver of light she offered.
Her smiles were the sun, her eyes were spring and her radiance was contagious. No wonder the whole court and the whole kingdom itself would do anything just to get a glimpse of her smiles, no matter how miniscule they were.
He resented the King, yes. It was him and his family that destroyed his grandmother, disgraced his mother and brought misery to his life, moulding him into something of an avenger. But then, his animosity towards King Fugaku increased as his feelings for the Queen deepened.
How can someone who caused so much grief to his mother deserve someone as radiant, as beautiful and as divine as Sakura?
But then, that would snap him back to his reality. His loyalties had been swayed. His burning emotions for the blossom consumed his entire being—body and soul—like the flames of hell, as if condemning him for having broken his vows of vengeance and his promise to his mother.
He was distracted.
His mother was right.
Beware of a woman's wiles indeed.
But she was so innocent and so naive and so kind and so gentle and so beautiful and she was light...
He knew that he could never taint such brilliance without dire consequences by the Divine jury.
And so, he would snatch every ray of light she would emit, slowly taking them in until nothing is left and then, that would be the time to put her out permanently.
But with every drop of sunshine he so selfishly took, the brighter she grew and like a moth to a flame, he was drawn to her and he would soon forget his goal, his mother, their happiness, his birthright and the injustice of the world.
All he knew was light.
But then, his mother reminded him of his purpose and his prize—their goal—their happiness.
And he knew that he would have to put out her light.
And by doing so, would once more plunge him into night.
A small (big) price to pay for happiness and vengeance.
"Your father—the King—would soon notice I'm gone," Sakura spoke cautiously as if approaching a trapped animal poised to attack. "He would send his guards to look for me."
"Don't talk about him!" Sasuke hatefully snapped.
"It would not be good for you if they find us in this position," the young Queen carried on, ignoring her companion's (lover?) unstable wrath.
She desperately sought his eyes.
"Sasuke, listen to me."
"Shut up."
"Sasuke, for Kami's sake, look at me!" she bravely took a step forward and held his chin, the blade grazing her wrist. The man sneered in contempt as he tried to pull his face away from her surprisingly strong grip.
Feeling bold, Sakura let both hands hold Sasuke's head in place as she glared piercingly in his obsidian eyes.
"Sasuke, look at me," she implored. "Sasuke, you are a good man. I—I am not as naive as you thought. I knew—I know that you bear a grudge towards me. The first time your father introduced us, I saw it in your eyes. You hold so much hate and enmity towards me and the King. I was scared of you back then. But then, you know why I decided that I liked your company and preferred it more than those of the others? Despite it all, I saw something else. I saw misery, sadness, loneliness, longing."
Sasuke scoffed and attempted to bat away her intruding hands, refusing to be swayed by her soothing voice and her gentle touch. But Sakura held fast.
"You are a good man," she repeated, her voice stronger, her eyes steely. "You're just misguided. I feel—I know that this is not what you want. At least, not now."
"How would you know about what I want?" he spat.
"I see it in your eyes," she lulled, smoothing the dark circles under his eyes, "your face," she ran her thumbs through his brow, "your breathing," she ran one finger down the bridge of his nose, "and your words," she proceeded to brush his lips gently.
"I know you don't want to do this, Sasuke," she said, her voice full of conviction and genuine sincerity and wisdom.
He closed his eyes under her calming touch, his mother's words pushed to the deep recesses of his dark mind.
"But if it would make you happy and give you peace," Sakura continued and moved her hands away from his face. Sasuke almost panicked at the sudden loss of warmth. His eyes followed her movements as she took the wrist of the hand holding the knife and positioned the tip of the blade in the junction between her ear and her neck. "I would willingly let you spill my blood and take away my life, Hell be damned."
Sasuke's eyes widened. He did not expect her to surrender to him so willingly. He expected her to cry and beg for her life or even run from him and ask her husband to put him in the dungeons.
He did not expect her to so selflessly offer her life in exchange for his vengeance, his goals, his happiness, his peace.
"Is this what you want, Sasuke?" she asked him, her eyes fearless and full of pity. "Will this make you happy?"
His hand trembled. The knife quivered against the creamy column of her neck.
You will avenge your grandmother and your brother. You will avenge me and yourself and get us out of our misery.
His mother's voice resounded in his head.
"I—I—"
For once, he did not know what to say.
Sakura closed her eyes in resignation. She smiled so serenely like she was the moon gracing the darkness.
"It's all right, I understand," she told him; her tone is that of reassurance. "Do what you think needs to be done. If I end up in Heaven, I'll make sure to tell Kami what a good man you are and you are worthy of mercy and redemption."
Silence took over. Only shaky breaths could be heard.
"Sasuke?"
He looked at her pleading eyes.
"Please make it quick and painless."
He could only nod. The blade was starting to slip from his grasp and he adjusted his hold.
"Sasuke?"
"W-what?" he whispered.
"Thank you."
"A-aa."
He was about to slide the blade against her throat when a gurgling voice made its way to his ears.
"Sasuke?"
The man exhaled a breath he did not know he was holding.
"I love you."
Sasuke immediately closed his eyes and flicked his wrist.
When he opened them, he was greeted by the sight of the pink-haired Queen's body limp on the floor, her eyes closed, forever sealed from the world. For a moment, he harboured a selfish thought of how happy he was that at least, he was the last thing she ever saw. Her face was peaceful and it was as if she was only sleeping. Her hair splayed around her head like a halo of sakura blossoms. She looked pure and untainted and light and the only thing marring her angelic form was the crimson line running across her throat, blooming and angry and trailing vermillion rivers.
A strangled sob tore from his throat.
She was dead.
He killed her.
Her light had been put out.
He can now avenge his mother and his grandmother and his brother and he can claim his birthright and he can be happy.
But—he can't.
Light footsteps tapped along the floors of the chamber and a small figure ran up to the avenger with his head bowed and his body shaking in anguish.
"Sasuke..."
The man's head snapped up and stared lifelessly into similar dark eyes.
"Mother..."
Mikoto looked at her son's face. The despair and the sadness were evident and she detected a hint of broken sanity. She then traced his form and found the knife in his hands, glinting and dripping with red liquid. Her eyes travelled to the limp form on the floor and saw Sakura's body.
"You—you did it..." she whispered, a sense of exhilaration overwhelmed her.
"Are you happy, Mother?" her son asked, his voice strangled.
"Of course, I am!" she beamed. "You did well, my son. You have completed the first step of our vengeance! Now, nothing will stop us from reaching our goal and gain what has been taken from us!"
Deathly silence met her glee.
Sensing that something was gravely amiss, she peered at Sasuke's eyes.
"Are you not happy?"
He did not reply. Instead, he kept his gaze at the dead body in front of him.
She was about to ask again when he spoke up.
"I'm not," he muttered so softly that she had to strain her ears to hear. "I never will be."
"Why not?"She demanded. "You will be recognized as the true heir once and for all. We will have avenged your grandmother and your brother and you will be King. You will have given me justice and we will be out of our misery."
Looking at her son's unresponsive form, with his eyes trained at the girl, she realized the truth behind his behaviour.
"It's because of her, isn't it?" Mikoto seethed. "It's because of this girl here, is it not?"
Sasuke's silence was telling.
"I told you to be wary of her charms!" she raged, taking a step closer. "She has beguiled you just like how she beguiled the entire kingdom! She was nothing more than a means to an end! I told you not to get attached! But here you are, like a common man!"
Sasuke finally looked up, his dull eyes shining with remorse.
"I'm sorry, Mother," he beseeched. "Forgive me. I tried. I truly tried so hard to be loyal to you."
A lone tear ran down his cheek as he looked at the dead Queen once again.
"But I was weak," he whispered. "I was shown a small ray of sunlight and I took it at the very first chance that I had. It was all dark and all about hatred before. But I was—happy—"
"Sasuke..."
The man chuckled forlornly. Mikoto could almost hear the pieces of her son's heart breaking.
"I tried to be loyal to you, Mother," he pleaded. "I really did. But my heart gave its loyalty to another. It wanted to be loyal to the light."
"Sasuke, what are you—"
With fearful eyes, Mikoto rushed to close the distance between her and her son. Her dread increased tenfold when Sasuke raised the hand holding the knife.
He smiled at her sadly.
"I loved her," he admitted breathlessly. "I love her."
Mikoto stopped in her tracks.
He...loved her? Loves her?
Her head was spinning.
The son whom she raised to have nothing but hate in his heart and loyalty to her had found it in himself to love another?
How cruel could Fate be to make him fall for the person who was in the way of them achieving their goal?
Sasuke's voice snapped her out of her reverie.
"I'm sorry, Mother."
It all happened too fast, Mikoto could barely comprehend it.
One second, she was looking at her son's eyes that were full of anguish and hate and remorse and heartbreak and love...
And in the blink of an eye, two limp bodies were on the floor. The bloody knife was only a few breaths away from pale, male hands and was even more stained with blood.
It took Mikoto a full moment to realize that the second body that was slumped over and covering the first had a head of dark hair.
Mikoto screamed; the last strings of her sanity snapped and the darkness finally engulfed her.
A/N: So, here it is, my comeback oneshot to the fanfiction world. So, I did a complete 360 degree turn on Mikoto's character. It was really hard to her as anything but a kind and loving mother with no vindictive bone in her body. I really hoped that I kept Sasuke in character though.
I really hope you enjoyed it and I am so happy to be writing again and frankly, I believe that I might be a bit rusty. So, comments, constructive criticism and recommendations are always welcome and encouraged. No flames allowed or accepted, however.
Please review and tell me what you think. Reviews are greatly appreciated. Thanks! :)
-xx