Summary: Caught in a war between two countries, she must now decide what is most important - or risk everything falling apart at its seams. AU, SasuxSaku
AN: So, this is something I whipped up for a friend, and after my long 'vacation' from writing, I'm not exactly sure how good/bad I've gotten anyways. So feel free to provide any constructive criticism as you guys see fit and I'd be happy to improve on it. Before I forget, there is a bit of an implied relationship between Neji and Sakura, but fear not, it's just to move the plot along. And some of the characterization does not strictly follow the anime, so you may find some characters appearing to be OOC. You have been warned. In any case, here goes the prologue. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: Not mine. If it were, Itachi would never have died.
Prologue
She stared at her own reflection in the tall Victorian mirror. Whoever it was staring back at her looked beautiful. Encased in a full-length white gown, she felt every bit the princess she was supposed to be. Around her, the maids giggled and squealed in delight, passing comments on how it was the 'latest fashion' and how stunning she looked. She decided she had to agree with them for once, even if their incessant squealing was grinding on her already taut nerves.
Fingering the thick white fabric, she took a step backward, marveling at the soft swishing noise it made as it grazed upon the ground. Whoever did this dress must be incredibly talented. It had almost made her forget to despise the very idea of being entrapped within these walls.
She hated how they all made it seem so simple. As though she should be gratified that she was here at all. Under different circumstances, she just might have been excited at the chance of becoming royalty. After all, how many girls of her stature had the chance to even glimpse the royal family?
However, this was different. The Royal Family (or rather, royal assholes as she liked to think of them now) had simply taken interest in the land surrounding their peaceful village. Apparently, whatever was there was valuable enough for them to extend a marriage proposal. They would allow a female in their village (of course, by their own picking) to marry into the Royal Family, and in return, the village head would hand over the land without any disputes. Of course, there was also the monetary incentive involved.
The village head had succumbed to their wishes, although she had no doubt the money offered played a huge role in his decision. Papers were signed, and then she was dragged here, practically halfway across the country. What could she have done? Object violently? She doubted that would have done her much good, much less her family. After all, she was merely the daughter of an ironsmith. A peasant.
Of course, they hadn't allowed her much time to settle in. When she arrived, it had been a whirlwind of wedding preparations – meeting designers and planners one after another she thought it'd never end. The wedding planner had been the worst, going on and on about how she was so lucky, and that she needn't worry about a single thing, squealing 'everything will be planned accordingly!' every time she tried to get a word in edgewise. She'd kill her slowly one day, when she found herself something sharp and pointy.
The door behind her opened, shaking her out from her thoughts.
'Welcome Royal Asshole Number 1,' she thought cynically.
After much bowing and murmurs of 'Hyuuga-sama', the maids vacated the room, leaving her with her soon-to-be husband.
Watching him from the mirror, she shivered involuntarily as her eyes met his through the mirror. She had never known anyone could possess such cold eyes. It seemed to simply look right through her, freezing her to her spot. Lowering her gaze, she pretended to smooth out her dress, pressing out imaginary creases.
"You look… acceptable," his voice sounded loud in the silent room, shocking her.
Then, fury set in, as his words finally started making sense to her. Curling her hands into fists, she reigned in her anger, choosing not to comment instead.
"The ceremony is starting soon. Someone will come to bring you to the Hall," with that, he spun on his heels, leaving the room.
'Acceptable!' she seethed mentally, whirling around to glare at the spot where he was moments ago, 'I'll show you acceptable, you insufferable pig!'
Her hand swept up to tear the veil off her head when a knock on her door made her pause. Outside, the person who was supposed to fetch her made known his intention. Growling angrily, she stomped over to the door, flinging it wide open.
'Oh hell, I should probably just kill them all and be done with it!'
Letting out a string of curses that would no doubt make her governess shake her head in consternation, she literally barked at the soldier to lead the way. Jumping slightly in fright of her, he scampered off down the corridor, making high-pitched squeaks every time they turned the corner.
They soon reached the Hall, leaving her to stare at the great mahogany doors in partial dismay and awe. Therein lay her future, although it didn't seem to be much in her standards. She'd be lucky if she survived a month here. Whoever said weddings were happy occasions must have been sick in the head.
The doors opened and she stepped forth, embracing her future with what dignity she had left. A future of mysteries. A future of unknown possibilities and perils. She wanted to turn and run, but where would she go? She could only run blindly into whatever life it was that awaited her, hoping that someone would lend a helping hand when she stumbled in the dark. There was no turning back now.
END