Oh, backtrack. Anticlimactically—the elves from Lothlorien did not make a dramatic appearance right before the battle. They came a little early, because they are punctual and logical and decided it would be good to have some time to settle and plan before showing up. Also, I am in no means a Tolkeinite—what I know comes from the movies and the books. All the backstory and history is pretty much lost upon me, so if I'm wrong about the elves, forgive me, I'm making it up.


Sakura figured it was only a matter of time before Aragorn found her.

She absentmindedly rubbed a hand down the side of the hawk's wing. The bird shivered beneath her questing fingers, shaking out its feathers. Neji's hawks always seemed to like her, for some unfathomable and unexplainable reason. Considering her own summons didn't even like her all that much, she had no idea why the birds took to her so well. She should have went with a bird summons, the kunoichi digressed. Why in the hell did she have to be so enamored with cats.

His letter didn't approach anything that could even be considered legitimate—as usual, he was vague and somewhat condescending. She had, however, managed to discern that the political upheaval in Gondor was escalating rapidly.

The bird cooed into her shoulder, and she tucked her reply into the clasp upon its leg. She'd written in response that Gandalf and a Naruto clone were coming for assistance—how much assistance they would provide, she didn't know. Naruto: probably none at all. The blonde didn't have a diplomatic bone in his body. Gandalf, however, could have some amount of success.

The Ranger approached near silently from the staircase below, just as Sakura tossed the hawk into the air.

It banked up in the wind above her, circling once, twice, before it lifted off into the stratosphere.

She watched the smudge of color until it was almost indiscernible from the tumultuous sky, if only to keep her attention away from the Ranger behind her.

"And here I thought you couldn't possibly complicate matters further." He greeted, wryly. "You certainly have a way of being surprising."

"Thanks." She replied, acerbically, folding her arms against her chest.

He sighed. "You didn't have any intention of saying anything at all, did you?" It wasn't much of a question, if Aragorn had already deduced that much.

Light footsteps trotted up the stairs after him, and Sakura turned her head to see her Lynx slinking gracefully around the Ranger's legs. She noted with stilted disbelief that the cat affectionately rubbed its head into the man's kneecap as it passed, and rolled her eyes in exasperation. Why the hell did her summons seem to like everyone but her?

The Lynx shook out its silvery pelt, moving to sit on its haunches in front of Sakura. It drew a paw to its mouth and began to clean it languidly.

Sakura diverted her attention back to Aragorn. "No." She agreed. "Not really."

The man frowned. "Then why did you?"

Sakura had figured she'd be in for the lecture of a lifetime when Aragorn inevitably found out; something like Neji's but a thousand times worse. He was being… strangely analytical about this, though. Sakura supposed she really shouldn't be too surprised though, Aragorn was the most level-headed, logical person she'd ever met. She'd never once seen him get irrational, or too emotional—he never let anything cloud his judgment. She should have expected that he wouldn't lose his temper over this, either.

He'd make a very good King someday,

She shrugged. "It was becoming fairly clear that I wouldn't make it out of here in time."

"Before you couldn't keep it a secret any longer?"

"Well, it does start to get a little obvious." She retorted, dryly.

Aragorn furrowed his brows, looking her up and down. "It hasn't, for you. And you are already many weeks along? I should think you could have lasted some months yet."

With a flicker of chakra, the genjutsu dissolved before his eyes. His expression would have been funny had she not been in such a sour mood.

"Like I said," She reiterated. "Obvious."

He blinked. "An illusion?"

She nodded. "But it won't hold for much longer. I'm no master." And then, a little distantly, "He deserves to know, don't you think?"

"He does." Aragorn agreed. And then he sighed. "Unfortunately, this only makes the entire situation… even more complicated."

Yeah, but she already knew it was kind of a total shitshow.

When she had no response, he began anew, "You plan to return to your home?"

"Yes."

There was nothing else she could say to that, no excuse to give. The Lynx put down its paw, disappearing in a clout of smoke. Sakura's face twisted into a grimace when she thought of how Naruto's summons did the same—and by extension, the blonde ninja himself.

"Have you told Naruto?" She asked.

"Naruto?" Aragorn repeated. "No, I have not. I did not think it was my place to say." And then, almost disbelievingly, "You mean to say you have not?"

She gave a sheepish smile. "Yeah, you see, I'm kind of waiting for the most appropriate time."

"You may be waiting for some time, then." Aragorn snorted.

She sighed. Yeah. That was kind of the problem. She could probably wait until the baby had come and gone and she still wouldn't have found 'the right time'—she'd just show up at his flat with a baby in arm and say, "Surprise?" That shouldn't have been as humorous as she found it; clearly, she was already getting a little hysterical.

She shook her head, attempting to clear her mind. With renewed focus, she finally took in Aragorn's appearance. He looked… well, he looked like he'd gotten mauled by attack dogs, and then fell off a cliff.

This wasn't an entirely inaccurate assessment.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, stepping forward to appraise him with a medic's eye.

He looked down at himself, as if his appearance was a recent acquisition, and he hadn't been lost to the wilds for the past couple days. "Well." He answered, though clearly he wasn't fooling anyone.

She rolled her eyes, and moved to stand in his space. She grabbed his hand before he could protest otherwise, flipping their linked fingers until hers were atop of his. The seal on the back of her hand flared to life; spindly, glowing blue lines cobwebbing from the spiraling kanji that spread from her wrist. Aragorn watched with fascination as the burning blue pattern moved down Sakura's fingertips, and lit in Aragorn's own hand with a strange tingling sensation. He'd never felt anything like it: it was odd, surely, and peculiar. But not in a bad way.

Sakura was not looking at their joined hands. All her attention was diverted to the wounds covering him; watching with a clinical eye as a large gash over his chest began to knit itself back together.

He hadn't even noticed them healing, too caught up in trying to categorize the unnatural, numbing sensation crawling into his bones.

She let go suddenly, and like breaking from a trance he heaved a large breath, eyes blinking rapidly.

She eyed him clerically. "Feeling better?"

With wonder, he lifted an arm, turning it over. The sleeve of his tunic was still badly ripped and torn, but the skin beneath had healed of all its cuts and gashes.

He turned back to her, somewhat mystified. "That magic is incredible."

"Not magic." She shook her head mirthfully, but didn't bother to explain the intricacies of chakra medical seals to him. She wouldn't even know where to start.

"You'll have to tell him eventually." Aragorn returned to their previous conversation, austere.

Sakura looked away. "I know."

And then, biting her lip. "After." She promised. "I'll tell him after. I don't want to distract him."

"Yes. That's probably for the best." Aragorn agreed. He shifted his weight. "Sakura… you must understand…"

She turned her eyes back to him, searching his face. He looked like he swallowed something sour; or alternatively, he looked like he was about to say something rather unpleasant. Neither option was all that appealing.

He took a breath, held it; and then released it in one fell swoop, all his determination appearing to leave him in that same breath. "Nevermind. It is not my place to say."

"Say what?" She blinked.

He shook his head. "Does Legolas know you don't intend to stay?"

She blinked, again. "Uh. Yes? I mean, we've discussed… around the issue." She fidgeted slightly. "I sort of thought it was implied."

Aragorn looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. He also looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. "Be sure to make it implicitly clear."

She nodded slowly. "Alright." There was nothing in his expression she could read; he was quite serious about this matter, but other than that she couldn't decipher much else.

But it was clear that whatever he was talking around had to do greatly with Legolas, and whatever he'd been trying to tell her in the forest that day before Boromir went and fucked everything over. Something about… elven customs? She'd been rather distracted since, what with chasing down Merry and Pippin, evacuating Rohan, and readying for battle, but she could vaguely remember the thread of conversation. Elves. Elves and mates, she recalled, her stomach turning itself into knows. Elves, mates, and eternity.

The scampering of feet against stone alerted them to another presence on the roof.

A page boy.

"Lord Aragorn!" He gasped. Sakura balked at that. Lord? When did that happen? "You're presence is needed at the war hearing."

Aragorn acknowledged this with a nod, turning back to Sakura. "Stay safe." He implored.

She nodded, just as serious. "Will do."

.

.

.

She'd spent the better part of the battle's eve attending to the women and children. She couldn't exactly teach them how to fight, but she could at least hand them some sharp objects and explain how to hold them without gouging out an eye. She also went over some brief contingency plans; the caves below Helm's Deep scattered into passageways beneath the mountains, most of which were largely unexplored or dead ends. But, if the stronghold above was taken, it'd be there best bet for survival. Hopefully Sakura would be able to use her chakra to sense openings in the rock, and clear out a few passageways.

If not…

She shook her head.

Then she'd fight her way out, she supposed.

But for now, she had another priority before the battle began in earnest.

The night had long since besieged the sky, leaving a cold and sticky humidity in its wake. The clouds obscured the sparkling trail of stars; a thick, heady purple smoke.

Aragorn exited the impromptu battle planning session, feeling exhausted but infinitely more determined.

This would be no easy task, that was for sure. But as difficult as it may be, it was also imperative for them to come out the victors. More than just the fate of Rohan rested in the outcome. He felt as if, perhaps, he should feel less certain, staring down the eye of the storm. He did not. Maybe leadership really was in his blood. The Evenstar hung mournfully heavy against his chest, but he could not think of anyone else better suited to lead these men into battle than he. Aragorn had spent a long time running from his destiny; but now that he had accepted it, he found the weight… rather fitting. Like a garment he had worn for so long that the leather melded into his shoulders.

Legolas had been, predictably, a tumultuous presence by his side. The elf stayed quiet for the majority of the meeting, even as his fellow elves bellowed their protest to many of the men's strategies. He would have expected his elven friend to jump into the fray and keep the peace, diplomatically sorting out the difference in opinion. Legolas probably had more concerning problems on his mind than stopping a petty fight between men and elves; like perhaps the woman who carried his child, who came from a land so foreign it was very likely they'd never see her again after this whole affair ended.

Aragorn digressed.

He'd attempted to explain the matter; but he found the words would not leave his mouth. It did not seem his place to say—and yet, if not him, then who? It was quite clear Legolas had about as much intention of telling Sakura about elven customs as Sakura had of telling him about her pregnancy. Which was to say, none at all unless backed into a corner. Aragorn snorted. He would have balked at the thought, but he found his good humor had fled in the wake of the battle, leaving nothing but exasperation and resignation in its place.

He couldn't help but imagine what this could have been, had the circumstances been different. Had there not been a violent fight for the freedom of Middle Earth, had Sakura not been from a distant land. Sakura would not know it, but the birth of elven children were a rare and highly celebrated event. In fact, Aragorn could not remember one in his lifetime. With a race with as much longevity as the elves, it wasn't all that surprising that there were so few of them. It was not for lack of trying; the elves were aware of their dying race, their dwindling numbers, but there was nothing to do about it, aside from attempt to bend the will of nature.

And yet here was Sakura, unknowingly walking into all of this and doing what the elven race had tried to do for decades. Creating new life. An elf prince's child, no less. Aragorn really did laugh aloud at that—though it was humorless and devoid of any vitality. If only she knew how celebrated this would be for the elves of Mirkwood—all the song and dance and rejoicing.

And probably not just Mirkwood, but all the elven reams. He remembered Lord Elrond retelling the tale of Arwen's birth; a long celebration by all the elves of Middle Earth—too long if you asked the elven king, who had never been fond of undue attention and great scrutiny.

The thought had him looking towards the elves of Lothlorien, a regal brigade at the edge of the keep. Their cloaks shimmered like gossamer light, their weapons made of finely polished wood and metal—everything so pristine in comparison to the dirt-caked men of Rohan ambling about. They stood out like a sore thumb, whether intentional or not. He was surprised Gimli had yet to make a comment on that.

Movement in the corner of his eye drew his attention.

It was—he blinked. And then blinked again.

Sakura?

And Haldir?

The rose-haired ninja was leaning against a wall, arms crossed in front of her, looking strangely imposing considering her short stature.

The elven general had his hood up, though it was easy enough for Aragorn to tell him apart in the crowd.

They appeared to be in serious conversation, for Sakura's brows knit worryingly, and her mouth had set decidedly into a frown.

Aragorn's curiosity—and trepidation—grew. What could they possibly need to discuss?

Meanwhile, Sakura felt she was going in circles.

"But there have to be some things you share with the other elven realms." She insisted.

"Some, perhaps." He agreed, enigmatic. "But I do not see the need for these questions."

"—Curiosity?" Sakura threw out, quickly. "Uh, interest? I can't just be interested?"

Haldir's eyes narrowed. "You're hiding something."

Yes. She agreed silently. An elf baby. Also, a maybe-relationship with the elf-baby's father.

She appraised the elf in front of her searchingly, wondering if she could possibly get the answers out of him anyway. She didn't know any other elf aside from him who she could ask—hell, and she didn't even know him. Well, she knew his name but other than that, not very much.

"If you're expecting to hear an entire history of elven culture—I'm afraid I cannot give it to you." He sighed. "Not in any legitimate regard; and certainly not in the hours before battle. It would take… months to fully explain."

Sakura let out a breath. Yeah, she'd expected as much, but the inspiration had struck her and she wanted to at least take the opportunity while she had the chance. When was the next time she'd run into any elves? It was practically a stroke of luck that they marched their way into Helm's Deep. And she didn't know who else would know more about elven culture than, well, the elves themselves. And considering the only elf she knew had so far avoided the subject like the plague, and Aragorn was just as unforthcoming, this may be her only chance.

The thought made her desperate.

"Mates." Spilled out of her mouth before she could think better of it. "What can you tell me about elven mates?"

Shock colored his features; his brows rose and his mouth opened in surprise. It was the most expression she'd ever seen on an elf. Well, aside from that one time she told Legolas about his surprise baby—but that was not something she wanted to think on right now.

"Why do you want to know?" He returned, his voice high.

She narrowed her eyes at the blatant evasion.

When it became clear that she was not going to answer his question, he pursed his lips. "They are a rare thing indeed. Elves only mate once, and once they do it is eternal. Mating is… sacred. And precious. An elf will find no one better suited than their mate." He searched her face. "Why is it that you ask such questions? It is more than curiosity."

"Maybe." She shrugged, giving nothing away. And then, somewhat icily, "But I don't see how that's any of your business."

If possible, his brows raised further. "You accosted me—" Wow, that was a total exaggeration, "And then demanded answers of me of which I did not need to give. Did you expect me not to wonder?"

She had expected as much. But she also knew that it was entirely up to her discretion whether she'd give him any answers.

"Wonder all you like." She returned, stiffly. And then much less hostile, "Anyway, thanks for actually answering." It was more than she'd hoped. Although, nothing she'd heard gave her any sense of relief.

He blinked rapidly as she moved to leave. "That's it?"

"Oh." She paused, and then, over her shoulder, "Good luck."

Before she jumped into the sky, far too high for him to follow.

She landed gracefully some ways above, the wind violent this high up, whipping her hair into her face. A sinking feeling had seized her stomach; she sort of felt nauseous. Mostly though, she felt numb. Aragorn had alluded to something similar, and from his words she'd gotten an inkling on what this entire ordeal must seem like to Legolas—but not like this.

Hell, she could barely even remember that night all those months ago. She'd sort of hoped foolishly that they were the outlier, they were 'seldom' in Aragorn's explanation. But everything was point to the other direction. Elves were seldom intimate out side of their matings… and they only mated once, forever. It wasn't like in Konoha, where practically every lawyer specialized in annulments—and someone was always sleeping with someone else. She'd thought Naruto and Neji would be the ones to get culture shock; clearly she was very, very wrong.

Sakura felt a bit slow, having taken this long to come to a rather obvious conclusion.

She was his mate.

Forever.

.

.

.

It was inevitable she and Legolas would meet again.

Around them, men and even young boys geared up in tedious, chain-mail armor. She never understood how any of them got any kind of fighting done in all that bulky metal. It was a different kind of fighting, she supposed. Or maybe no one here knew how to dodge. She shook her head; that wasn't true. She'd seen Aragorn and Legolas take down plenty of orcs without any kind of armor, with nothing but their reflexes to protect them from the strike of a blade.

She didn't know what to say to him, was the thing. It felt as if they'd already said all they had to say.

It also wasn't particularly comforting for her, but she suspected that the elf felt the opposite. He smiled softly at her, weaving his way across the room to stand at her side. He didn't say anything at first, content to sit in this small bubble of quiet around them, entirely at peace with her by his side.

Mate. Was all she could think. She was his mate.

And yet, she didn't know how she felt about him. She couldn't even contemplate staying in Middle Earth after this tour—how in the hell was she supposed to make up her mind about forever?

Legolas turned to her, something endless in his eyes. She wanted to—to kick him. For being so perfect. Or maybe kick herself, for not being able to give him want he wanted.

For a brief, scintillating moment she could imagine it with great clarity: she could imagine herself as an Eowyn, as someone who grew up in this vast, wild world. How easy it would be, then, to give up everything and live in the glimmering caves and trees of Mirkwood. It wouldn't be so bad, the world of the elves was so wondrous and beautiful, and Legolas was nothing if not a splendid companion. It wasn't as if they didn't get along; he was peaceful, and calm, and jovial—in that regard, they complimented each other very well. She was moody and often times mean-spirited, and he was the antithesis. He could make her laugh when all she wanted to do was bitch.

But the dream crumbled away as quickly as it had come, leaving her cold and indifferent.

She was no Eowyn. She was no fair-maiden in need of a prince. She'd never been called anything close to 'fair', or referred to as anything approaching 'maiden'—and she'd been a girl who wanted a prince, once.

It hadn't ended well.

She looked at Legolas, whose attention had drifted towards the proceedings around them. He was engaged in a conversation about daggers with one of the Rohirrim men. Or maybe about how best to use daggers against orcs. She wasn't paying much attention—no, she was too caught up in imagining what he'd think of her, if he actually knew who she was.

When they'd met in Mirkwood, her job had only been to assist—and now, months later, it was still just that; assistance. Ninja were secretive even amongst their own, and in company more foreign than she'd ever been in before it was only natural to follow protocol and use as little of their hidden techniques as possible. Of course, Naruto went and blew that out of the water, what with exploding a hole in the king's palace and all that. The fact remained though, that the less she showed her hand the better. She doubted Neji was showing any of his clan techniques here, or any technique, period.

But had she not been just assisting, had she not been so secretive; she wondered what he would think. She was a killer, and not just of orcs. She probably knew more ways to kill someone with her bare hands than he did—knew how to even without them.

Certainly there was death and violence in Middle Earth, that much was clear. But never voluntarily. This was a battle waged for survival—not because the Daimyo paid a lump sum of money for it. They killed here to protect their own; not because someone vetted out more cash than someone else. It was practically sport, back home. They threw pre-adolescent kids into a stadium and had them duke it out until forfeit, unconsciousness or death on a regular basis. Most people generally rooted for death.

Almost involuntarily did her hand stray to her stomach, once more flattened by Genjutsu, covered under layers of cloth and cloak. Her resolve to leave the baby here strengthened. Legolas would take excellent care of it.

It would learn how to kill here too—but, perhaps here it wouldn't learn to enjoy it.

"Sakura," Legolas tugged lightly at her arm. The man he had been conversing with was gone; for how long, she didn't know. "Are you alright?"

She stirred, blinking rapidly and returning her attention out of her thoughts. "Um? Fine. Sorry. I was just lost in thought."

"Are you sure?" He pressed, concerned. "You look a bit… pale."

"You look pale." She countered; and it was true. Well, paler than usual. Mostly he looked worried. Anxious, and worried. "Nervous?"

He smiled slightly at that. "I would be a fool not to be." He pointed out, dry.

True. The odds were certainly not turned in their favor. "It'll be fine." She found herself saying, with the utmost of confidence. She didn't know why she was so unwavering in this belief, but it felt truly unshakable, as if she truly believed everything would turn out fine. Was this how Naruto felt all the time? No wonder he was always doing stupid shit.

"If only I could share your conviction." He smiled, ruefully.

Though it still felt strange, she slipped her hand into his. The small amount of comfort appeared to work, for he squeezed back. Just holding his hand made her feel irrevocably guilty.

"Try not to die." She found herself saying.

He looked at her strangely, before erupting into laughter.

"Yes." He agreed. "I will try my best."

.

.

.

The ground shook violently, but this far under the ground the energy from the above had descended into distant tremors. Though she could hear the battle going on above loud and clear, she doubted anyone else in the cavern could; not without some enhanced hearing, at any rate.

A part of her—or a lot of her, really—wanted to rise to the surface and check the battle for herself. They'd sent a few women to briefly peek already, and each came back with varying degrees of bad news.

There were more Uruk-hai than they had initially thought; they'd broken through the gate; it was starting to rain. Everything bad that could happen appeared to be happening.

Sakura shook her head, and concentrated on the little girl in front of her, bleeding profusely from a gash in her side.

She'd managed to mend most of it up, but the girl kept squirming around, making it infinitely more difficult to heal a wound that should have only taken a couple minutes.

"Could you get her to stay still?" Sakura whispered lowly to Eowyn, who was soothing the child as she held her arms.

Eowyn gave her a look of exasperation. "I'm trying." She said by explanation. It was clear, however, that neither she nor Eowyn were particularly paying attention to the matter at hand. No, most of their concerns were centered on the battle above.

The ground shook again. The girl in her arms whimpered.

"Are we going to die?" She whispered.

"Shh," Fortunately Eowyn shushed her before Sakura had to come up with a response that wasn't; '…maybe?'.

The two shared a look again over the little girl; it was fairly obvious they were thinking the same things.

Eowyn was… really refreshing, Sakura thought sort of distractedly. The blonde woman leaned back down to rub the girl's hair out of her eyes. She was the only woman in Middle Earth that Sakura had met who had some real fight to her. She wondered if it was just a cultural thing around here; it was like they were all kind of the same. And it was sort of sexist, y'know? Why was it that the women were hiding out down here instead of fighting? If this was Konoha, or hell, any hidden village they'd never be foolish enough to hide away half of their fighting force.

It was different here, Sakura reminded herself.

No shit.

No one mated for life back home. No one thought women weren't capable of defending themselves and their country back home.

She was abruptly besieged with the intense desire for her homeland. Suddenly it was all she could think about; her apartment, the hospital, her friends. She'd never been so homesick before, and she'd been on missions three times as long as this.

But then, she'd never been so far away from Konoha—had never been in the most foreign of lands, where there was not one similarity she could find aside from the stars that lit the sky.

"Sakura," Eowyn whispered, urgently.

Sakura shook off her reverie, focusing on the flaxen-haired woman in front of her once more. Eowyn reminded her of home, a bit. She had a will of fire; that was for sure, she kind of reminded her of someone, but Sakura couldn't—she was also saying something to her. Oh.

Sakura blinked. "What?"

"Do you hear that?" Her eyes moved to the ceiling.

Sakura paused.

There was a faint rumble, echoing down into the caves with slight tremors. That in and of itself wasn't all that strange—louder, perhaps, but not strange considering that there had been quite a few attacks strong enough to be felt beneath the ground.

No, it wasn't the sound that had caught Sakura's attention—

But the smell.

She sniffed the air, wondering at the familiarity. The cave smelled of moist dirt and rock, weighed down with the potent humidity. There was something more, though. Something underneath that.

"Hold on." She returned, and walked swiftly to the cave entrance.

The air was colder here, biting, and smelling of tangy ozone, like storms. The smell struck her heart with something like nostalgia, even though she couldn't place where in her memories it came from. But… it made her think of sadness. A gripping, sorrowful regret. Of a figure silhouetted by a burning sky, of a dark night and her heart breaking on the pavement, of a red bridge that had long since burned down, and the fragments of her youth.

"Sasuke." She breathed.

"Sakura?" Eowyn called, hesitant. She'd left the little girl in the attentive hands of her mother, the wound healed as if it'd never even been there.

The ninja did not respond. Instead, she moved farther, into the mountainous, dark jaws of the entrance.

"Sakura!" She yelled again, when it became clear the woman was not stopping. She didn't know why Sakura was down here with them, but Aragorn had relayed the importance of her safety to Eowyn, and she did not take such a task lightly.

Finally, the petal-haired girl turned around. There was something striking to her eyes; something determined. "I'll be back!" She called over her shoulder—and then she raced off into the abyss.

The climb back to the surface was steep, and most likely grueling for anyone that wasn't a ninja. Sakura jumped her way up the walls, her heart beating so fast it seemed like it could almost break through her ribcage.

She came up to the surface like a man out of the sea, gasping for breath.

Rain.

It was storming out here. The shouts of men and Uruk-hai were loud in the air; the whistle of arrows, the thunderous strikes of the catapults as they buffeted the walls of the stronghold. It was war out here, but in the darkened sky was an even greater war. Electricity stewed tempestuously above the battle—the clouds had begun to stir themselves in a familiar pattern.

Sakura looked to the battle in time to see Kirin light up the sky.

The effects were blinding: an eruption of burning light; and all the breath was pulled out of her in one fell swoop. The roar of thunder as it lashed upon the ground was deafening, the eruption of the splintered earth even more so. It didn't stop. The lightning rained upon the ground until the entire world burned in its wake.

She could have choked on her own laughter.

The thunder god was here. It never ceased to amaze her that Sasuke's most dangerous technique was also the one that required the least amount of chakra.

She'd only seen Kirin once, and she had been on the wrong side of that battle. She'd since learned—returning terrified and somewhat shell-shocked—to her infinite relief that Sasuke could only release the god of thunder in the right weather conditions. The perfect storm, she thought, marveling. This was undoubtedly the perfect storm—the absolute perfect conditions for it. The rain had been stewing for days now, the clouds drooping and heavy, electricity potent and brewing. And Middle Earth, particularly this part of it, sprawled to the four corners of the earth in rolling flatlands; there was no cover to hide from the strikes.

She laughed again, breathlessly, as not even seconds later did the enormous Planetary Rasengan light up the sky, orbited by a triad of smaller ones, taking all the air with it. The gathering in Naruto's hand pulled her hair as it swept up all the wind around her, the resulting blast against the ground was not as bright as Kirin, but equally as dangerous.

She'd known he was back.

But there was one thing to know that, in the abstract, Sasuke had returned home and was somewhere in Konoha. It was another to see him drop from the sky, landing side by side with Naruto on the dilapidated wall of Helm's Deep.

She laughed so hard she cried.

.

.

.

And then she punched Sasuke in the face the moment she was in range.

Immediately after she grabbed him by the neck and suffocated him with her arms—in happiness though, not anger. It must have been hard to tell though, because she still looked furious as hell, and her grip was almost lethal.

"Sa…kura." He choked, futilely trying to wrench away. "You're choking me."

She let go, just as violent as she had seized him.

"You're an asshole." She intoned flatly, unaware, or perhaps uncaring of the audience that had gathered to watch them.

He didn't have any response to that.

"Hey," Naruto whined. "Come on—he came back, didn't he? That has to count for something!"

"Shut up, Naruto." They said, in unison.

She made a face of disgust at that. God how were they real.

It didn't escape her notice that they had not only gathered a crowd, but that the crowd appeared to be effectively intimidated by just the sight of the Uchiha. Sakura didn't blame them; they probably thought him the god of thunder after that outrageous display.

"Well," She said with a snort, folding her arms. "I suppose Naruto's right. And it's better to be on this side of Kirin then the other." Her eyes trailed down to the scene before them, the scorched earth and the jagged remains of the rock face from where the lightning had scarred it irrevocably. She could tell where the The fortunate Uruk-hai turned to cinders. The unfortunate ones were either electrocuted or burned in the resulting fire. Yeah. Definitely better.

"See?" Naruto grinned cheekily, loping his arms around the both of them. "So, we're all good?"

"I guess." She muttered, eying Sasuke warily. He was conveniently not meeting her eyes.

She couldn't stop the pleased little flutter in her chest, though. It was incredibly relieving to be together with Team Seven again, one of Naruto's arms thrown around her, Sasuke so close she could still smell the scent of storms on his skin.

.

.

.

Aragorn looked upon the scene with a curious, open face. Around him, the men of Rohan whispered ominously; a shifting sea of unease as they all looked upon the man who wrenched the sky apart with his bare hands. He—he had never seen anything like that. As if the god's themselves existed in the boy's hands, the lightning moving with his every command and the thunder rolling in his wake.

That wasn't even remarking upon Naruto. But that was different, he'd met the blonde beforehand, knew enough about him now to make some sense of him. It had still been alarming to see the blonde enveloped in an otherworldly orange glow, something unnatural and demonic overtaking him. Alarming, and terrifying—and that was even knowing the blonde personally.

Yes, Aragorn understood their apprehension, their wonder, and their unease.

Seeing the three of them up on the wall, the aftermath of the battle burned into the earth behind him: he then understood Sakura with a sudden clarity.

She'd remarked once that the shared the same north star—it was quickly becoming obvious that the sky may be the only thing they shared.


I think someone already suggested this but... :0 TWINS SEPARATED AT BIRTH. Omg.

If you want to see what sakura looks like, there are links to it on my profile page (its also the cover art of this)