so soon?, a naruto fanfic

naruto (c) masashi kishimoto

arda legendarium (c) j.r.r. tolkien

a tolkienesque fantasy au. all lowercase. intended to be a ficlet but oops my hands slipped. also i have an exam in two days but this qualifies for the hashimada bigbang on tumblr. week two prompt: blood.

btw this au started as silly "ultra bara forest arsonist/tree vampire meets the elven queen who guards said forest" talk with my friend on fb.

her enchantment was breached.

hashirama of the senju was woken up from her slumber with freezing dread running down her spine. what kind of danger now lurking in her domain, where the elvenkind had been living in safety for the last century, safe from malice and evil that gnawed at the realm? the forest shivered with fear. is it dark magic?

she rose, holding her heart. an anticipation grew within her, neither negative nor positive. she had to see it for herself.

her enchantment wasn't something easily broken. hashirama had woven it using her knowledge passed down from the beginning of time. it withstood attacks after attacks, an intricate magic that brought forth the forest's powers into a great illusion, meant to mislead anyone that isn't elf or didn't love her greatly. it also prevented every thing within the border from dying.

but, she realized with a heavy heart, there's nothing eternal under this sun. even elves will fade.

twenty of her best archers were hidden between the leaves, all pointing their arrows at the trespasser: a mortal man with dark hair as long as the queen's own. he touched a great pine with both hands. within seconds, the tree withered and charred. burnt inside out.

dead.

what a despicable act, using dark magic to kill her precious tree!

"who are you and what did you do to my tree?"

he turned around right when hashirama jumped from her branch. the stranger's body was sculpted by years of training and war, marred with scars. but it was his face that rendered her speechless.

"it's been a while."

this man shouldn't be alive!

iii

bound in her dungeon, he refused to eat. the wardens said he's still healthy even after days without sustenance.

"i don't need food," he said to hashirama when she visited him.

"no mortal can survive without food."

"well, i do."

"is that why you murdered the trees of mine with your dark magic—"

he let out a harsh laughter. "what's the difference than slaughtering livestock?"

"you don't steal someone else's livestock," she sat down, offering him a jug of wine, which he also refused, "my trees are not to be killed."

the stranger drew a long sigh. "why do you value trees over a mortal's life, queen hashirama?"

her eyes narrowed. "we elvenkind go to great lengths to protect what's dear to us." she changed the topic. "you've outlived your life span," hashirama knelt before him, holding his chin, "uchiha madara."

uchiha madara was a man she acquainted with in the last great war, a great hero who fought with her in the alliance. but it was more than a century ago.

"for a good reason." the shadow of a smile lingered on his lips for a second. "i'm still fighting the enemy, unlike you who retreated into the forest with all your people while humans out there suffered."

"i'm merely protecting our kind. what's wrong with that?"

"you're abandoning the world to the enemy's nonexistent mercy," he paused, gazing into her ageless face. "you're not the only one who lost your siblings in the war, your majesty."

hashirama left.

she still remembered how tobirama and izuna fell, back to back, making way for their siblings to escape the surrounding enemy forces.

they could never retrieve their bodies. the hammers and maces of their enemy turned the trapped elves and men into red mud.

her people still lamented the loss in the last great battle. the tears she shed on that day hadn't dried on her cheeks.

"why did you ask to see me?"

"when will you release me?"

"after a century or so."

"there is a war i have to lead out there."

"a century for an immortal is nothing but a day."

"you are severely mistaken." madara glared. "i'll be dead by the end of the month if i don't drink another tree."

"what about the trees outside my domain?" hashirama observed his face. his being felt weaker. his fire was flickering, clinging to life.

"too weak. i can drink blood, but even human blood can't sustain me in a long time." madara stopped, as if talking was heavy to do. "only your trees can help me. besides... we have been trying to contact you."

hashirama lifted her fingers, and the wooden shackles disappeared. she caught him before he fell, leaning him at the stone wall of his cell.

"i know the enemy is rising again. i know there are a lot of mortals trying to enter my domain." she reached for his wrists, healing his bruises. "but i cannot risk losing—"

"mankind is losing every day! you have your magic to protect your domain. we have nothing but our own swords and spears! we live in fear under his shadows." he caught her arm. "i know my immortality is made of forbidden arts. i swear to you, i'll give it up once the enemy is destroyed for good."

it's been a hundred years since they lost their siblings, but madara was still the same person who passionately fought with her to defend their people. he was right; if left alone too long, the enemy soon would destroy her forest and people after wiping out the humankind.

there's only one thing to do.

"you shall have our swords, as long as you stay away from my trees."

the kingdoms of men marveled upon the sight of her host, of their weapons and armor forged with elven arts, of the towering warriors sung in legends. thousands of them, with their queen in the center, crowned with twigs and leaves, clad in green and golden armor. the kings congratulated their general madara for persuading the reclusive elven queen to join their war. their spirits were lifted when she ordered her strategists to share their knowledge, and her blacksmiths to improve their weaponry.

"i've been thinking," hashirama took a cup of sheep's blood from his table, "why my trees can support your immortality."

madara went paler in every passing day since they left the forest. ordinary trees and sheep's blood weren't enough for him. he wasn't lying about his condition. hashirama had been keeping an eye on him, afraid he would fall sick any time.

"the trees are extensions of myself. it's my powers that run in their veins, not ordinary tree sap. dark magic is the strongest if it... uses an elf's... essence."

"you're suggesting me to drink your blood," madara finished her sentence. the silence that followed felt heavy inside his tent. when she didn't deny it, he added, "are you sure?"

"we're at war." hashirama nodded and rolled up her sleeve.

he hesitated.

vii

as their forces marched, she spent some time in his tent every night so madara could drink her blood from her arm.

the elven queen always saw memories that weren't hers during the drinking: how the nations of men despaired a century ago, how the great hero had to be dragged from the mass grave because he was maddened with grief, how the same man was immortalized to ensure humankind's survival, how he nearly died because he refused to drink human blood, how he traveled far and wide looking for the strongest sustenance, how he found her forest and felt the enchantment unraveled upon his touch, how he finally beheld the face of the woman he had been—

"that's enough."

madara always stopped drinking before the memories finished in her mind, and hashirama knew it wasn't enough to sustain him longer than a day.

he always refused to drink more.

viii

"death isn't supposed to claim us."

hashirama closed the eyes of an elven scout killed by their enemy's spies. her friends wept openly during her funeral.

"why can't we just stay in our forest, and let mankind deal with the enemy?"

the queen lifted her tear-streaked face. "if we never march, the enemy will deliver us to death sooner or later. perhaps we'd be the last to fall after mankind perished under his hammer."

she thought of tobirama, his roar as he told her to leave him in the battlefield. hashirama would rush back to her brother's side had madara didn't pull her to his horse. only then she realized he had been leaving izuna behind, and of the pain that gripped his heart for decades...

no mortal was destined to bear such pain.

their forces battled against small number of enemies the further they went into enemy territory. madara was always on the front line, the first to strike and the last to return. hashirama's blood gave him regenerative powers, although it wasn't on par with hers he kept abusing it, embracing the enemy's attack head on. she could heal the bigger wound, but this death seeking tendency made her worry.

"you should drink more, we're going to strike the enemy tomorrow," she suggested when madara finished their daily ritual. it was way later than the usual time, and he was nearly unable to stand straight in the tent.

he shook his head, heading to the makeshift bed.

"is it because of the memories?"

his armor dropped with a loud clang. he took it wordlessly.

"you need your strength. i'll keep your memories secret." hashirama stepped closer, placing her hand on his bare shoulder. "you are hungry."

"tell me, your majesty," he sat down, his long hair draped over his figure, "why are you so intent in keeping me alive through forbidden arts hated by the elves?"

hashirama was silent for a while, then she muttered, "i don't want you to die."

"i'm ready to give up my immortality."

"not this soon." she traced the lines of his scars before opening her collar to expose her neck. "please."

the armor was dropped again, and madara sank his teeth into her skin.

he burned her, set herself alight like he did with her trees. the fire didn't destroy her, instead it gently drew her powers to nourish him, inviting her to know him further.

dark magic wasn't supposed to feel this... pleasant.

the elven queen closed her eyes to see how the nations of men despaired a century ago, how the great hero had to be dragged from the mass grave because he was maddened with grief, how the same man was immortalized to ensure humankind's survival, how he nearly died because he refused to drink human blood, how he traveled far and wide looking for the strongest sustenance, how he found her forest and felt the enchantment unraveled upon his touch, how he finally beheld the face of the woman he had been—

hashirama now understood why madara could enter her forest and breach her enchantment.

she buried her face on his chest after he finished drinking, overwhelmed by madara's memories and feelings.

her magic greatly turned the tide to the alliance's side, but the waves of war separated them. when all the kings of men and the elven queen struck down the great enemy, general madara was nowhere to be seen. she sought him among the fallen, asking men and elves alike.

but nobody saw him since he led the first attack at dawn.

hashirama wandered around the tents, the only one left distraught in the joyous celebration. one of her people found her, and tried to console her to no avail.

"general madara probably has perished in the battle. it is a great honor for a mortal hero as great as him, my queen. he has earned an honorable place among his ancestors. let's celebrate in his memory."

hashirama wept.

it was past midnight when she finally mustered the courage to enter his tent. his possessions were gone. without wasting any second, she ran to find her horse.

xii

she found him standing before a large mound crowned with small white flowers. a large stone stood on its peak. the writings on its surface had faded, but she remembered the words as if she just carved it yesterday: here lies the brave warriors, elves and men, who perished in the great war.

hashirama dismounted. "madara," the name rolled off her tongue with a painful note, "madara, i..."

"what are you doing here?" he asked back, weary. "you shouldn't be here."

"you were just—gone. of course i went looking for you. i thought you were—" she stopped herself, rubbing her elbow. she couldn't bear herself to say it.

madara pretended a sudden interest to the jug of ale in his hand. "not now, but soon."

"...how soon?"

"please return to your people, your majesty." madara turned away. "they'll be worried over your sudden disappearance."

"then go back with me. please."

"i have no reason to return." he stared at the mound.

it hurts. her chest hurt. hashirama didn't understand why she was here and hurting over the impending death of a mortal who had delayed his fate. why she was willing to give him all of her blood—dark magic be damned.

she, the last queen of all elves who just brought down the great enemy, cried over the fragility of men.

xiii

"did you know why i decided to retreat into the forest and shielded it with an enchantment?"

madara lay on the grass, his head on her lap. hashirama ran her fingers through his hair, pretending not to see the gray strands that began to appear.

"you lost two thirds of your force," he mumbled his answer, his eyes closed, relaxing, "including your brothers."

"it felt like fading." hashirama lifted a hand, growing her wooden canopy to shield them from the afternoon sun. "i couldn't bear another loss so soon."

"does a century still count as so soon?"

xiv

"where do men go once they die?"

"to a place beyond the worlds. where do the dead elves go?"

"...to the waiting halls."

"you still can drink my blood."

the ages caught up with him too fast, and hashirama's heart sank further in every passing hour. madara's laugh was raspy.

"too late. i've given it up when i left the battlefield." his bony knuckles circled around her smooth fingers. "i've sworn to you."

she wiped a teardrop in the corner of her eye. "but you—madara, i've seen what's in your heart..."

"and it's not fair to ask for your hand," his wrinkled eyes gazed back at hers, "knowing that my fate..." he coughed hard, "the fate of mankind will claim me soon, while you have an eternity ahead."

"an eternity means nothing without..." she trailed off.

"please, hashirama, don't say it."

xvi

gnarled roots and branches rose from the earth, encompassing the mound and a newly dug hole fit for two persons inside a sturdy structure.

"bury me in my armor and weapons," madara told her shortly before sunrise, "so izuna can recognize me."

she did as he requested. his now all white hair combed neatly, although her fingers did little to tame its spiky texture. his sword was laid on his body. uchiha madara, the mortal hero who fought in two great wars, looked like sleeping inside the coffin she made.

she glanced at the mound, where their siblings were laid to rest alongside their warriors, and mouthed a silent apology to tobirama.

xvii

at sunset, senju hashirama surrendered her immortality.

the last elven queen never made it to the waiting halls.

thanks for reading and pls tell me what you think.