Hey guys!
Okay, this chapter kind of differs from my usual writing because most of it is set in the past- indicated by the italics. I dont' know why it ended up like that but I just started writing and this is how it came out. I hope you enjoy!
Random thought; after reading PSITeleport's 'Twitterpated', i couldn't help but thinking that the Sandsibs remind me of the three kittens from the aristocats- Gaara being Toulouse, Temari being Marie and Kankuro being Berlioz. Anyone? It just came to me for some reason! lol! I would thorougly support any attempts at writing a fanfic like that- though I pity the poor soul who attempts it! ;)
Anyways! Thanks so much for the reviews- I really appreciate them, as in I want to break into song disney stylee. Don't ask- i'm on a disney rampage this week for some reason!
By the way- the 'La Regente' mentioned in the story is a huge pearl stone and it can be found on google image if you wanna see exactly what I'm talking about. Either way, it's worth tonnes- remember that if nothing else!!! lol
Hope you like this chapter- it goes out to Bibliophile Nincompoop- she knows why! :)
I don't own Naruto!
SP7
Temari tossed a little in her sleep, awoken by the sounds of whispering outside her door. The light peeping through the cracks in her door was blurred by the figures concealed movements, throwing her face in and out of the shadows.
"It's a deception," Temari heard her father whisper....she had never heard his voice so low. When her father spoke he boomed to make sure everyone was listening. "If they do come, they will go straight for your chambers. However, if you stay here...in an insignificant room such as this...we will catch them on entry to your quarters preventing them from causing any real damage," he finished with a hiss.
Temari stared through blurred eyes at the door. Surely she must be dreaming. Her father sounded concerned. Temari had heard him omit many emotions before, yet they were generally ones of belligerence, never softness...if it could be called that. His voice was still crisp enough for her to recognise.
"And if they do find out?"
Her mother's voice came next. Living in a house filled with three men and a daughter who could hardly be described as feminine, the Queen's voice was like a larks; soft and compassionate. However, even within whisper, Temari could still hear the distressed tones of her mother's usually tranquil voice.
"You expect me to put the life of my child in danger, for fear of my own?" her mother continued, the questioning tones in her accent underlining her anger.
"I have consulted with the Palaces security and it is unanimously agreed that this is the best form of action to take," the King pressed harshly, his shadow whipping in and out of the light. "Karura, barely anyone in this kingdom is aware of the Duchess's appearance and many more are completely oblivious to her identity at all," her father continued, making Temari wonder if he had forgotten her name. It was not a long stretch of the imagination to assume so. He forgot everything else about her. "They will not suspect you to be residing in here. I understand your feelings, but I must insist," he finished, clicking the door handle to Temari's room open.
"And the Crown Prince?" Temari heard her mother question quietly.
"Gaara's chambers are being relocated. I am reluctant to divulge where to for security reasons...but he is safe. He will be safe," the King said firmly, as Temari bolted straight up in bed.
Gaara?
The Crown Prince?
When had that changed?
It was understandable that she did not know of the event taking place. If Temari barely associated with Kankuro, she was practically in solitary confinement when it came to her youngest brother. She had only heard of him through her maids and caught various glimpses of him slipping through the hallways. He looked like her father, she remembered. Drifting through the Palace one day she had come face to face with the young Prince, staring him down. She may have been a female, but she was still his superior. He merely looked at her in return. Whether it was with curiosity or disdain or some mixture of the two, Temari could not make out. But she stood there until he left; leaving her with the distinct impression that she bored him.
Her sudden movement alerted her parents, who both turned to face her. Surveying their faces Temari found her mother smiling at her; her face etched with the expression mother's gave their children when they were trying to shield them from the realities of the world. Her father had already looked away and was staring at her mother imploringly.
The Queen let out a small sigh and stepped forward into Temari's bedroom, looking less than pleased whenever her father closed the door soundly. Lighting a candle that adorned the mantelpiece, her mother made her way over to the bedstead. As she settled herself on the edge of the mattress, Temari felt her mother surveying her, as if looking for some hint of an emotion that wasn't there.
She began by sighing.
"Your father...he loves you..." she said quietly. Temari would have found the statement convincing if it weren't for the fact that not even her mother knew what her father was thinking. Occasionally, when she was told what was going on in Suna, Temari wondered if her father even knew what he was thinking.
Saying nothing, Temari settled herself into the bed sheets facing away from her mother. She did move over a little to the side to allow room for her mother however there really was no point in this shift. The bed could fit five people at least.
Feeling her mother sliding under the covers, Temari gave into the inevitable and turned around, placing her head in the warmth of her parent's lap. She fell asleep to the feeling of her mother combing her fingers through her hair.
The next morning, Temari awoke to find herself in an empty bed, however upon glancing around the room she found her mother seated at her dresser. As her mother patted the space beside her on the ornate cushioned stool, Temari moved slowly out of bed and pulled her feet across the carpeted floor. Accompanying the Queen on the seat, Temari mimicked her mother by facing forward to study herself in the mirror.
Feeling her mother place two fingers under her chin, she allowed her head to be tilted upwards at an angle, so that she was now parallel to the mirror. Temari was reminded briefly of the time when she was eight and her governess used to place a cluster of holly leaves underneath her chin to keep it held at an appropriate height.
"I never imagined that I would bear such a pretty daughter," her mother said, relinquishing her hold on Temari's chin. Temari turned her head away somewhat shyly. The realm of appearances and beauty were strangers to her, known only by their idealised place in that of marriage. Her predecessors had been known for their physical splendour; the portraits that adorned the palace walls reminded her on a daily basis of the handsomeness of her ancestors whilst the household maids tittered on the importance of perfecting her looks in order to secure an ideal husband.
Surveying herself in the mirror, Temari found her eyes moving towards her mother. The kindness in her eyes made her far more beautiful than Temari could ever be. Flickering her gaze back to the mirror she found only austerity in her own. She wondered if other girls her age pondered on the emotions in their eyes. She doubted Kankuro gave it a second thought.
Her own harsh teal eyes met her mother's soft brown ones. Smiling, the Queen picked a large velvet box off the table and opened it carefully. Temari felt her eyes widen in shock. Even living in such an ornate Palace, the beauty of this tiara still shocked her.
The diamonds trailed intricately through loops and swirls, attached by pearls at each junction. The tiara met in a V shape at the crown of the forehead upon which large tear shaped pearl hung, connected to the main piece by a cluster of diamonds.
"La Regente," she heard her mother whisper, as she placed the crown upon Temari's head. Feeling the large pearl hang delicately upon her forehead, Temari turned to the mirror to find she did not know the girl staring back at her.
She reached up to touch the pearl on her forehead, barely skimming its surface with her fingers- afraid she might damage its beauty just by touching it.
"I had it made for your tenth birthday," her mother said, standing up and moving behind Temari. Sweeping her hair off of her shoulders, and pinning it in a bun behind her head, her mother continued. "Your father swore blind that you would not wear it," she said, studying the results of her efforts, "but I think you wear it quite beautifully," her mother finished, lifting Temari by the elbows, signalling for her to stand.
Standing in front of her mother, she turned her to face the full length mirror. "My little Grand Duchess," the Queen said fondly, smoothing out her white night gown from the back, as Temari examined her fourteen year old self. She could not help but smile a little. She looked so......regal.
"You see it now, don't you?" her mother whispered contentedly noticing her smile and setting her head on Temari's shoulder. "Where you come from. You are Suna's Princess, Temari. And they love you. The Sunese people. When you are introduced to court, you will see, Temari. You will see what I see."
Temari continued to stare at her reflection; her mother's words transfixing her as she tried to reconcile Temari the Princess with Temari the fourteen year old girl.
Temari was so transfixed that she did not notice when the door to her room opened. She was broken out of her reverie by the sound of a loud bang. She jumped at she felt her mother's hands fall from her waist. As her mother's body no longer constricted her view of the doorway, through the mirror she saw a body dart around the door frame and the sounds of running footsteps.
Still staring in the mirror, frozen still, Temari felt tears beginning to pool in her eyes. She did not know why. Nothing had happened. She had seen nothing. She held her head high with the tiara still sitting proudly atop her person, afraid to look down. She watched as a maid came running around the corner of the door frame and flinched when she let loose a blood curdling scream, and fell to the ground.
Tilting her head to look towards the ground, Temari felt 'La Regente' slip from her head and fall gently to the floor as she surveyed her mother's reflection in the mirror; eyes still filled with kindness.
Three days after the funeral, Temari sat on the end of Kankuro's bed watching him fumble with his bow tie. Their usual quips and jokes were lacking today.
"He's making me go," Kankuro said quietly, suddenly breaking the silence, still looking into his mirror and not at Temari. "I don't want to," he mumbled, "he says we can't be an absentee Monarchy," her younger brother finished, picking up a comb and pulling it through his hair, studying his reflection.
Temari said nothing.
"When are you going to dress properly?" Kankuro snapped, obviously annoyed by her silence. "You've been sitting in your night gown for at least five days now. The only time you changed was when....when...when they made you. It's not normal. Do you think it's what she would want?" he finished pointedly, setting the comb down and moving back to his bow tie still not happy with the results.
Temari sighed and closed her eyes.
"Who did you tell?" she asked quietly.
Kankuro said nothing but abruptly stopped moving.
"Only you would have known," she continued, having trouble swallowing. "I knew nothing until it happened and Gaara was in confinement. Your weekly meetings with...with Dad. He must have told you then. That she was going to be sharing my room. Who did you tell?" she finished sharply, yet still not speaking above a whisper.
Kankuro opened his mouth and Temari could sense denial coming before he said anything.
"Who did you tell?" she spat, feeling anger boil in her stomach.
"No one!" Kankuro yelled from across the room, finally turning to face her.
A silence set in before Temari leapt from the bed and threw herself at him. Tackling Kankuro to the ground, she landed on top of him as he hit the floor. Feeling her fingers clench into fists she threw one hand into his face, followed by another and another, against his fervent struggles.
Stopping when she saw blood stream from his nose, she grabbed him around his neck and slammed in head into the carpet.
"WHO DID YOU TELL?!" she screamed, glaring into his eyes, ripping inside when she noticed that he shared the same eyes as their mother.
The silence arrived again punctuated only by the sharp sounds of the siblings breathing heavily.
Noticing tears pool in her brother's eyes, Temari loosened her grip slightly.
"Kiba," he whispered quietly, before the tears began making their way down his face.
Unable to control her rage, Temari slammed another fist into his jaw, before standing and running out of the room, doubting that she'd ever be able to look her brother in the face again.
She tried convincing her father that it was an inside assassination- an attempt from within to destabilize the Monarchy- but he wouldn't listen. He believed without doubt that the hit man had been sent from Konoha. Not their enemy but not their ally either.
He believed it because it was what he was told to believe.
She sat back daily and watched her father unravel mentally. Temari had never suspected her father to be attached to her mother or even have some sort of feelings for her due to fact that their marriage had been an arranged one. At first she took his mental breakdown to constitute some form of love. Some despair over the loss of his wife. It wasn't, she realised in time. He was mourning the loss of his security. Her mother was the first Sunan Monarch to be assassinated. Ever.
Temari watched as paranoia set in; her father firing and hiring new security every day on whims of who he could and could not trust.
All Konohanian citizens were deported, including Uzumaki Naruto. A boy of fortune, which was left to him by his parents, who had decided to live in Suna, for reasons unknown. Temari did not know him intimately. Her youngest brother and Hinata did. It was big news in the papers when he left- he was like Kankuro- a well known socialite. To the papers, it signified the last of the old, decadent Suna.
Gaara never left his security confines after that. She remembered reading in the papers that he too was dead according to 'a palace source'.
Kankuro continued to attend various social parties, not because her father made him, but because it was an excuse to get drunk. He still saw Kiba.
Temari continued to not exist. She moved to a different room in the Palace so as to escape the memories. From what she could tell, no one else entered the room either. She never saw her crown after that. She assumed a maid had picked it up and stored it away. She couldn't bear to ask after it. She was afraid. Afraid if she got it back, there would be blood stains on it.
She left the Palace once; not on a social engagement, rather on a whim. She didn't do much. Nobody recognised her so she was free to wander around Suna as she pleased.
When she got back, her father beat her senseless. As the nurse patched up her broken arm, she wished more than anything that they had shot her father instead.
She didn't leave her room after that having all her meals brought to her. She stopped her lessons with her tutors and spent most of her days reading or daydreaming. Occasionally, she would beat the hell out of a piece of furniture just so she could feel something breaking underneath her fingers. The servants never questioned it but the next day there would always be a new piece of furniture.
She found out soon enough that Kiba's mother was a member of the Privy Council; a far left advisor to her father. Pro democracy. Pro Republic.
Control was slipping further and further away from her father, as he continued to shut himself up in his chambers meeting only with his advisors, who advised him to stay away from his throne- if only for his own safety. He believed them.
News came and whispers echoed around the Palace that Naruto had not left Suna, but had gone into hiding, following various different sightings. He was reported dead days later by a tabloid newspaper. She believed it. Gaara did not, she later found out. He was either dead, or he had allied himself with the Konohanian army, in an attempt to save his skin yet remain in Suna, in Temari's opinion. It mattered little in the end.
Three years after her mother's death, a coup d'état took place against her father, during the war. Konoha's military forces entered the country and handed control over to a make-shift, non-elected parliament with the Inuzuka's at the helm.
Armed men entered her house and shot her father. Herself and Kankuro escaped only by hiding in Gaara's secure chambers underground. Their youngest brother came and found them trying to barricade themselves into the kitchen and proceeded to help them hide.
Three days later, they left their confinements only to discover the Palace stripped of all furniture and decorations- the floors littered with the dead bodies of their servants.
They made their way to the edge of the country, living in a rundown house that had somehow managed to survive the war unlike its previous occupants.
A year later they found out that the Konohanian army had killed all members of the new Sunese Parliament, after vocal disagreements between the Hokage and their new leader over the border's placement. Martial law was instigated.
Each day papers would roll past the house, torn out raggedy clippings informing them of their own death, survival or abduction. Photographs of Kankuro and Gaara were proudly displayed on the papers- Temari was mentioned, but always visibly absent. It was an unlikely advantage. It kept them under the radar.
Over time she learnt to forgive Kankuro despite his constant affirmations that Kiba had not betrayed them. She grew to love her youngest brother when she found that he too was lonely, exactly like her.
Over time, Temari forgot what her mother looked like. She tried to picture her face but could only see blurs- faded outlines that tricked her mind and when she strained to see, disappeared right before her.
Over time, Temari grew happy that her father had died. He was a terrible King. He had needed to die. She had never loved her father which was odd considering how much she sought his approval as a young child. His death was like flicking your finger through a candle's flame. No comparison to the white hot flames that had engulfed and branded her body when her mother died.
Over time, Temari's hatred for Inuzuka Kiba grew to such epic proportions that she swore blind that she would kill him if she ever saw him again.
Over time, Temari forgot everything she ever learned about being a Princess. But she never forgot how she looked when her crown had graced her head. She never forgot that she was a Princess. And Princess's got their way. Always. And if...when Temari got her way, Inuzuka Kiba would be dead by the time he turned twenty.
"So basically the Inuzuka family were behind the death of the Sunese Queen?" Shikamaru questioned, doing his best not to trip over the many roots that tarnished the ground they were currently walking on.
"It depends who you believe," Neji replied, gliding along the path with ease.
They had been walking for a few hours now and it was just entering the evening wondered if it was his imagination or if- as they got closer to Suna- the sun blazed with more intensity despite the fact that it was setting for the day. The heat still remained the same- warm enough to powder everyone in a light sweat but not yet hot enough to make anyone uncomfortable.
The land they were currently crossing was exceedingly dry; littered with dead or dying plants. A far cry from the vegetation of Konoha. The whole place looked like it was starving. And it smelt of death. But as they were still travelling over a form of soil, albeit dust-covered soil, Shikamaru assumed that they still had a long way to go. He had never been to Suna, but he had heard that the sand contaminated the place like a plague.
Neji had been filling him in on the finer points of Sunese history as they walked; the events that didn't make the papers or that Asuma didn't teach him. He knew that the war had started over the bombing of a Konoha weapons factory, but he had no idea that the catalyst for the event had been the death of the Sunese Queen.
Tenten had remained silent throughout the journey.
"And who do you believe?" Shikamaru prodded, knowing that despite Neji's reluctance to divulge it, he held an opinion on the matter somewhere within him.
"There is no doubt that the Inuzuka's instigated the attacks, upon both the Queen and the King," the solider replied, pausing briefly to cough lightly, "and that they had help from the Konohanian government. However, the extent of this help is unknown," he finished, his eyes studying the setting sun.
"So it was a coup," Shikamaru confirmed, more to his own mind that anything else. He had believed that when Neji had referred to the events of the past six years as such that he was revealing his allegiance to the Sunan Monarchy; in fact he had been telling the truth.
Neji said nothing, but merely continued walking.
"That must be strange," Shikamaru said, thinking aloud, his mind still trying to piece together everything he had heard in the last twenty-four hours. "Working for the army that destroyed your Monarchy."
Again, Neji said nothing, but Shikamaru could distinctly feel Tenten's eyes drilling into the side of his head.
Finally the solider sighed.
"It is for the greater good," he stated firmly, pausing in his gait when Shikamaru tripped over a large root that he had not seen coming.
Coughing from the cloud of dust his movement created, Shikamaru began brushing his clothes free of dirt.
"Your family," Shikamaru stated, although he could feel a question coming. Neji could too apparently, as his whole body stiffened more so- if that was possible. "Whose side are they on? Did they assist in the coup?" he asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable at his own forwardness.
"No," Neji replied firmly, "The Hyuuga family is....was....a family of good reputation. Such base actions are thoroughly beneath us," he went on, his facial expression hardening, as if he was remembering something unpleasant. "I loved and respected my Monarchy. I intend to do everything to restore Suna to its former glory," the Captain finished.
Sensing that Neji was eager for the subject to close, Shikamaru did not press the matter further.
Walking a little more, his mind drifted to Temari. He felt his stomach lurch as he wondered if she was safe. The sun continued to burn brightly, lowly positioned in the sky, sending waves of red and pink light across the clouds as it persisted in its descent. Shikamaru had hoped to reach Suna before nightfall- he wanted to get to Temari as quickly as possible.
The more he thought about it, the more he was willing to drag her back to Konoha even if she was kicking and screaming. It made him feel physically sick to imagine that there were people out there intent upon hurting her.
So maybe he could not be with her; tell her he loved her, marry her instead of Ino- but he could make sure she was safe. She loved Suna, he knew that much and given that he would do anything to make her smile, Suna's restoration was as high up on his list of priorities as it was on Neji's.
"Where will we spend the night?" Shikamaru asked, breaking the silence as he eyed the darkening sky.
"There is an aid centre just on the outskirts of Suna," Neji replied authoritatively. "They have agreed to let us spend the night and restock on supplies," he continued. "I believe you know the owners," the solider stated, pointing to a small, solitary one story building that was spewing light out onto the dusty ground.
Shikamaru felt his breathing halt as he regarded the sign that stood humbly atop the building.
'The Akimichi Aid Centre'.
