A/N: Remember how I said this was to be a dark angsty fic no amount of light could touch? Hmm…I've decided to take a different approach to it. A slightly different dark fic from the others of its kind. You're going to love and hate me for this.

Till You Die

10 –Vengeance of the Thorns

"Lady." Apparently that was how they preferred to address her. "You are cold. Put on this cape."

"Thank you," Loreli replied to the young woman at her side, "I am fine."

It was a bit chilly, but that wasn't the reason why she was rubbing her arms inside her sleeves.

…Rope burn.

She gritted her teeth. The muscles in her jaw ached tiredly from clenching so much.

Yet, despite suspecting that her body might protest getting up this early by leaving circles under her eyes, Loreli had wanted to see this.

The rest of the clan was seeing their warriors off to battle. No, not all their warriors. A good portion of them – equally armed and uniformed in black – remained stationary at the sidelines while the higher-ups were rounding up the men.

"That's a lot of them left behind," observed Loreli.

"Not for a stronghold of this size," she was replied with. "Look."

The young woman beside her pointed out several prominent figures standing at attention on the sidelines.

"Uchiha Murata, second in ninjutsu only to Izuna, he's staying behind this time. Uchiha Shindara, the best summoner in the clan and the one in charge of defense. There's Uchi-"

"Even the head medic?" Loreli asked calmly, with a blink.

"Oh, you know of him? Uchiha Ingra." An ironic grin. "Unless there are unusual circumstances, the medics would always stay behind. It's something to do with warriors' honor or something – only those who survive on the battlefield are fit to live. But don't ask me how that works."

…

"So, I hear you and the leader met on his visit to the feudal lord who paid for this war," the woman noted conversationally when Loreli didn't say anything else.

"How did it happen?" the young woman wanted to know, voice low and eyes mirthful. "Did he just notice you? How did he propose?"

…

…By twisting her ankle, if she recalled correctly. Loreli glanced down at her feet, checking her healed injury.

Evidently, the other woman thought it was a gesture of embarrassment.

"What, you are shy? Then, is it true he fell for you at first sight?"

"…Sorry," Loreli interrupted, "can we…"

The other woman looked up and saw what was causing her discomfort.

Uchiha Madara, their shinobi leader, while surrounded by his councilors had noticed her among the gathering. Fully armed and regal in his dark glory, Madara's unreadable eyes returned her gaze. He signaled for Izuna to take over.

The people around her cleared away when their leader approached her.

"Morning." That mocking countenance and tone he always used on her. Folding his arms and leaning in, Madara asked her smugly, "Slept well?"

Loreli…hadn't wanted to go near him. The sole reason why she hadn't hidden away from this was because she suspected doing that would only make their next encounter more difficult when he had her cornered.

Though as soon as tall, powerful frame shadowed her, however, she was starting to regret.

"A farewell kiss?" Madara taunted, quirked brow, when she made no response.

"…No."

"Perhaps you've forgotten whose war we're siding in," Madara reminded her.

…She glanced to the side. Really…he was putting her on the spot right before all these people. No room to back out of it either.

Hesitantly, Loreli reached for the cascade of his long spiked hair in front. She raised it to her lips. Tonelessly, "…I bid you victory, Madara-sama."

She met his eyes, veiled and expressionless. Her heart skipped.

It wasn't good enough for him.

Warm lips claimed hers, and, because she didn't respond, she felt him growl – a vibration in his throat – as he plunged his tongue into her mouth, his kiss deep and punishing, strong arms forbidding her from drawing away.

Ah…this man simply won't allow her any room for freedom.

"Madara!" Izuna's voice.

The long-haired shinobi released his arms around her. He glanced back to Izuna, who was signaling to him that it was time.

"The stronghold is yours," Loreli heard Madara's smooth voice comment as she blinked away the stinging at the corners of her eyes. His thumb brushed her lips. Whispering mockingly, "I expect it to still be intact when I return, mistress of the clan."

…

The first day she had the two guards assigned outside the room throw out the bed, telling them politely but firmly that if they expected her to behave herself, she never wanted to see it again.

By the end of first week, she had swept, dusted, and polished everything in his room. Twice. Only because she was getting bored and fourteen years of servant instincts started taking over, and not that she gave a care if their leader died of lung infection.

The second week, one of the women managed to persuade her to leave the room. They wanted her to join them in the kitchen outside, and it didn't matter if she'd rather not help out. Sadly, just watching them at their chores got her going stir-crazy. In the end she excused herself.

Life went on for the clansmen within the Uchiha stronghold. It seemed they were more or less used to having the shadow of war hanging over their heads. As Loreli wandered around, she felt it was the most freedom she'd experienced since she'd arrived.

In a field she came across clansmen in white, both male and female, foraging among the bushes. She recognized the one standing, giving out instructions, as the assistant medic who nearly always stayed by the head medic's side.

He noticed her no later than she noticed him.

"Lady," approaching her respectfully, "you have a request?"

"…No."

He followed the direction of her gaze.

"Ingra-san has instructed the medics to gather medicinal herbs in preparation."

"…There are female medics?" Loreli wanted to know.

"We use the term 'medics', but the only one who can constitute as a medic outside these walls is Uchiha Ingra, our head medic. The rest of us are more medicine and surgery-based, we don't manipulate chakra the same way he can."

She watched the medics for a while longer.

"Ingra-san is…?"

The assistant looked over at her when she spoke. "If you're looking for the head medic, follow this path to the right. You'll know the building when you see it. Ah-"

Loreli glanced back at his interruption.

"It's just…" he looked a bit sheepish "…if this is about before; Ingra-san was not aware of the status of your relationship with Madara-sama, I ask forgiveness for his bluntness on his behalf." He leaned forward in an apologetic bow. "I will accept any retribution in his stead."

Loreli was surprised. That was the kind of impression they had of her? Not that she could complain; she did depict stubbornness on several occasions…and had even dumped soup on their leader during their wedding banquet. Aside from Madara's councilors who were with him on his trip to the castle, and the young Uchiha men whom he had thrown her to, no one else knew the real picture.

"Don't worry," she assured him, "I have no such intention."

She didn't know whether he believed her or not. The assistant bowed his head in acknowledgement and she left.

…

Loreli went past it twice. She was still trying to decide if this prison-looking place, partway between one guardhouse and the next, was what she needed to find when she caught sight of two guards up on one tower snickering at her obvious reluctance.

…

Well…they didn't stop her when she pushed the heavy metal doors open and let herself through. The doors closed by themselves behind her.

The strong smell of warmth and spring hit her. Soon it was forgotten, as Loreli was awed by the sight.

"The genealogy of every member of the clan, the biology of the Sharingan, the components of the Uchiha bloodline, everything is here. Which is why, should any invaders intrude, it would be best they cannot escape."

Uchiha Ingra rolled up the scroll in his hand, returning it into its rightful slot on the high-stretching scroll library. "My lady," coolly, the head medic turned to face her, "is there something you need?"

"I-" Her elbow knocked down a handbook from the shelf behind her. She hadn't noticed she had backed up that much while staring up at the ceiling.

Rolling up her long sleeve, Loreli reached and picked it up. "I apologize…I don't know from which space this fell from."

It took her a moment to realize that his eyes weren't staring at the book she held out to him. He was looking at her wrist.

Her heart skipped a beat.

It…it couldn't be… The rope burns which had adorned her wrists had faded quite nicely over the past week and a half. Shouldn't be able to tell.

If the head medic noticed anything, he made no comment.

"This is fine. I needed a look at this." His long dense lashes curtained his eyes as he looked down, flipping through the pages.

Loreli watched as the tall regal medic went to another shelf with silent steps, continuing his work with serenity as if her presence didn't matter to him.

"Ingra-san, are you…" she glanced at the sheer amount of knowledge which must be present in the room "…self taught?" Loreli smiled wryly. "Were you forced to become a medic?"

Uchiha Ingra replied coolly without glancing at her, "I chose this path." He was pacing lightly, comparing the text between two open books.

"My brother was a true warrior," he continued nonchalantly, still reading, "but no matter how great his achievements or how much he cared about the clan, with eyes like these, he could never become accepted as leader." There was a pause, Ingra added, "Legitimately."

Loreli was silent, pondering his words.

"…Teach me to be a medic."

This time the head medic glanced back. His apathetic gaze assessed her.

Ingra closed the book in his hand.

"My lady," his cool, disinterested voice questioned her, "what is the real favor you want to ask of me?"

…

Loreli gave him a small mirthless smile.

"…Can you help me?"

At the end of the third week their warriors returned from battle.

Loreli had naturally hidden herself away from it all. She knew any one of them could probably find her easily, but she…wanted more time to think.

A shadow shot overhead, crashing into the branches of the tree she was sheltered below.

Mishura, spreading and refolding her wings menacingly. She let out a shrill shriek.

…Ah…he'd found her.

…

Slowly, Loreli rose up.

His wife had skipped greeting him at the gates. Madara would be furious.

"Welcome back…Madara-sama."

She didn't straighten from her bow until she was sure he was beside her. Even then, she didn't turn to look.

His tall, dark presence was foreboding. Arms crossed, as she saw from the corner of her eyes, he demanded coolly, "The reason for your absence?"

Loreli raised her eyes, facing him.

…Just like how she remembered him. Uchiha Madara wasn't someone whose image could be easily forgotten.

Bruises, red marks, ripped cloth and dried blood marred his sharp, unrelenting frame. But instead of making the powerful shinobi any less ravishing…the traces of war rather made him look fully in his element. Bloodthirsty, red-rimmed eyes raked her soul, impatiently waiting for a reply.

Briefly, Loreli closed her eyes. It seemed the Uchiha clan's leader had sought her out straight away.

"…I only wanted to be alone for a bit. Is that too much to ask?"

She saw his red-rimmed eyes narrowing in displeasure. Leaning in with arms folded and long bangs falling over one eye, Madara's visible eyebrow rose as he bit out mockingly, "Denied."

...Loreli pursed her lips, silent.

"Ah. My bad." Madara's cruel, taunting response. "You're upset?"

"Madara-sama had not rested in weeks. I shall temporarily reside in a separate room," Loreli informed him helpfully. She was an outsider to their clan. She didn't think he would make the mistake of entrusting her with his life in his sleep.

"Doesn't matter," he replied curtly. "Your precious princess is safe," Madara said snidely, voice lightening to another taunt, "How are you going to thank me?"

Pain.

…Fourteen years…fourteen years she'd been with the princess. He was the one who had taken her away in the first place, and speaking every word, knowing they were poison to her ears. Cruel, this man is…

How was she going to thank him?

Loreli steeled her resolve.

…There would be no turning back after this.

He had made it easy for her by leaning over to her the same way he always did while speaking to her. Loreli grasped hold of his hair, on tiptoes, pressing a harsh kiss to his dark lips. An urgent kiss.

As abruptly as she did that, she pulled away. "Madara-sama, you taste of blood."

Pleasantly, she added, "Please don't touch me while in such a state."

He was about to respond. She forestalled it by giving him a sweet peck, again on the lips. "Please."

Heart hammering inside her chest, Loreli waited a breathless moment to see if he would change his mind. Then she turned and ran.

The first day, he saw that she had gotten rid of the bed. But despite the appearances he put up, Madara was tired and decided to deal with it later.

The second day she had painted the Uchiha symbol on the wall into a flower. He discovered this when he returned from a briefing to retrieve something from his room.

As Madara stared at the wall, arms folded, he realized she might just be more cunning than he had thought.

There was no way he'd allow anyone to live to see that the great Uchiha Madara had failed in getting his wife to respect him.

…He found her with the women, working alongside them in a light atmosphere. For a long time Madara watched the scene with his arms folded, ignoring those who passed by in greeting. While his earlier rage simmered down as the time passed, it was replaced by something utterly perverse. He wanted to go out there and forcefully drag her away from their midst.

She was happy.

A side of her she had never shown him. A change which perhaps occurred ever since he left for battle. A feeling of contentment only brought about by his inexistence.

Long fingers gripped his sleeve at the elbow.

Unacceptable.

It was the woman beside her who had notified her of his presence. The smile melted from her eyes and she stood, putting on a pleasant but guarded expression.

"Madara-sama." Approaching him calmly, she inquired, "…You are seeking me?"

Harshly. "What happened to your hair?"

"…I cut it," she replied, her long-lashed eyes peering innocently up at him. "I felt awkward that my husband has longer hair than me."

Madara's dark eyes narrowed, pacing a circle around her. "So you cut it even shorter?" he snapped maliciously. Unbelievable. It was her declaration of war.

"…I was not aware I needed Madara-sama's permission to alter my appearance," she said.

Heh. If that's how she liked it, he would play her game.

"You are my wife," Madara said silkily in reminder, lowering himself to her height.

She watched him with a veiled expression.

"Madara-sama…" she took locks of his long ebony hair into her hands, pulling and telling him lightly "…we've already established that."

As the numerous Uchiha women watched curiously from behind, she raised his hair to her lips before gently lowering it back into place.

"Your wife needs to return to her chores," she said softly. "Madara-sama, can this wait?"

She didn't wait long for a reply. Smiling semi-sweetly, she fluttered away.

Uchiha Madara was never a tolerant man who could sit still and accept being ridiculed. By the time she had served him his least favorite dishes – informing him that she had inquired around for his taste preference – it was obvious to him that she was wittingly testing his patience.

Ah. Reaching for and snapping her neck would be so easy.

She'd be grievously mistaken if she thought he couldn't do it.

His murderous red gaze followed her as she flit around the hall, helping the other women. The way some of his men took notice of her did not escape him. She was positively radiant when lively, different from the small, suffering female she was when she had first arrived.

'Displeasure' did not quite sum up what their leader Madara was experiencing at the moment.

"Madara." Izuna frowned without looking up from toying around with his plate. He had received a head injury during one battle, now bandaged, and it resulted in having not much of an appetite. "Your Sharingan. It's ruining the mood."

Before any snide retort was made, that scandalous female halted next to the Uchiha clan's second-in-command. She leaned over and pecked Izuna prettily on his cheek. "Congratulations on your victory."

SLAM.

Not so much the loudness, but the intent behind it. Uchiha Madara had shot up from his seat, the action so fast and vengeful that Izuna actually started getting up on reflex.

…

"Ah, Madara-sama, forgive me," she said, approaching him carefully and seemingly oblivious to all the attention centered on her. "…If that isn't to your taste, I will prepare something else for you right away."

His red-rimmed eyes never leaving her face, Madara yanked her down into his lap, facing him, hard eyes scrutinizing his woman.

Telltale signs of weakness. There were many.

After an intense, suspenseful moment Madara smirked at this knowledge and leaned back lazily, challenging her, "I may find it acceptable, if you feed it to me."

Her façade was impressive. There was only the briefest of hesitations before she reached to the table. "Madara-sama knows of my clumsiness in such matters, but if you insist…"

He caught her wrist before she could spill the contents on him, his red eyes darkening. Slowly, he drew the bowl out of her hand, placing it back on the table.

Thumb drawing lazy circles in the palm of her hand, Madara spoke softly and sinisterly, "Tell me what you're up to."

A short pause.

Gifting him with the third surprise since his return, she leaned into him sweetly and whispered into his ear, "Madara-sama…I will have you regret making me your wife and mistress of the clan."

Her scent was light and feminine, triggering memories of her, helpless and submissive underneath him. Violent urges under control, Madara wondered wryly if she had any idea what risks she was taking by pressing herself against him.

She didn't pull away. Neither did Madara force her to. A lesser man wouldn't have been able to remain calm and stoic as he told her coolly, "I won't permit it."

"I won't listen," she replied calmly, not missing a beat.

Time froze. She felt his muscles tense.

Snap.

She had flinched at sound, sharpness amplified tenfold by the malignant atmosphere.

Heart drumming in her ears, Loreli glanced to the floor next to her, where Izuna's chopsticks have landed, still spinning.

"That was me," Izuna admitted. "You mind?"

…

Shakily, Loreli gathered her bearings and rose up, not daring to meet the eyes of the man before her.

She wordlessly reached down and picked up the pair of chopsticks, her fingers numb and cheeks cold.

"Not taking advantage of me, are you?" Izuna asked in amusement when she neared him.

She blinked down at his eyes. Red eyes.

Izuna reached forward and steadied her when she swayed on her feet. "My lady is tired," he said, signaling for assistance from the women. "Have her retire for the night."

No protest from her. She had no defense against the Sharingan.

Izuna watched her get taken away, idly tracing his middle finger along the rim of his cup, meditatively.

…Brave as she was, there was still no way she could've gotten this bold without the right kind of encouragement. It was a change not even he could have brought about.

Someone…already held a high position of trust in her heart.

"Madara, there is probably nothing scarier than a woman scorned," Izuna observed, conversationally. A crack split down the length of his cup. He glanced at it with a small frown.

…

"Hn. Very well, since you asked," Izuna responded with a bit of uncharacteristic smugness, "I will show you the way to her heart."

…

A/N: Will he succeed? Will she fail? Will the plot receive an advancement next chapter? Will there be character development? Will there be more Madara abuse? Is there ever going to be mutual romance at this rate?

…

Loreli…snapped…