Disclaimer: I do not own the anime series Naruto, its characters, or any plot or storylines within the Naruto-verse. Mikoto (OC) and any non-canon characters within this fiction are owned by me.

Summary: During the Era of Warring States, the Hagoromo clan eventually allied with the Uchiha clan. As a show of good faith and loyalty, the eldest Hagoromo daughter was offered to the Uchiha heir. This is Mikoto's story. MadaraxOC. Rated M just to be safe.

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Chapter 19

Moment

Even the skies wept for the Uchiha clan that night, for they had lost not only a comrade and a dear friend, but a brother as well. Despite his efforts of staying by his side, changing his bandaging, and bringing him food, Madara couldn't save his little brother. The young Izuna succumbed to his injuries, and the medics informed him that there was just too much internal damage and bleeding. Instantly, Madara's mind went to Tobirama, and he seethed with rage. He filled his mind with negativity; hatred, anger, fear, and above all: resentment. This untimely incident made Madara resent his so called friend, Hashirama, and the seed of his hatred began to spawn its first few leaves.

He sought no comfort from her for days, and the only time they stood together as a couple was at the funeral of his dear younger brother. Mikoto had tried her best to reach out to him, but she eventually held back due to the fear of suffering through the same incident as when Madara's father died. She knew he lashed out at anyone around him when he was enraged or upset, so for now during his time of mourning, she made it her duty to help him by keeping the clan together so that he may grieve and recuperate in the comfort of his own company.

The memory was all too clear for Mikoto. When she received word that her husband had returned from her home village, she immediately went to the gate despite the pouring rain and many protests from Yuna and Airi. She had to hear the news for herself of whether her father was guilty of the accusations that had been put forward by the Uchiha elders. She stood by the gates and watched Madara enter with his Jonin in tow, he paused briefly next to her and she looked up at him, pain and uncertainty was written clearly on his face, and he brushed past Mikoto without saying a word.

What made Mikoto's heart drop to her stomach was that over his shoulder was the limp body of Izuna.

She called for all the available medical teams she could muster, as before she knew it, many of her Uchiha clansmen were stumbling back into the village. Some were beaten and war-torn, while others clung to each other for support. She was horrified at the sight, and promptly went to the aid of the few who had returned, attempting to stop the bleeding and directing the medical shinobi to those who were severely injured.

Before long, the village gates had been cleared and the Uchiha casualties had been shipped to the hospital by the medics. She watched through her drenched bangs as the blood of her clansman seeped into the ground, and she deduced that they had clearly lost a battle. Madara's pride would no doubt be hurt and now even more so since his brother had been killed. Mikoto wept silently for her husband and her dear brother-in-law, he was still only a boy. She would recall his expressed excitement to meet his nephew, and would tell Mikoto of all the things the young Uchiha planned to teach him (or her, as Mikoto had to remind her brother-in-law).

Now though, it will never happen. The halls of the main Uchiha compound will remain silent except for the delicate humming of Yuna or the cussing of the cook when he burns himself. It was just her and Madara against the world, with a small bundle that will soon occupy their lives and time. However, the way Madara had been acting lately, Mikoto wondered if he even cared anymore.

She stood at the doorway to the patio that overlooked the central courtyard. Madara sat on the edge of the patio, not caring that his feet and legs were getting wet from the rain. He was puffing his pipe again, something he hadn't done in a long time. It had been a week since Izuna's funeral, and not a word was spoken between them since. She would try to make conversation, but she was only answered with short grunts and one-worded sentences. Even at night, he ignored her attempts to comfort him. She would reach out to him in bed, trying to at least offer him a hug or some form of contact. However, she was just met with his back to her.

She shivered. It was unusual for it to rain in the middle of summer, but it often meant that autumn was not far in the future, the closer autumn came, the closer Mikoto was to giving birth. She looked down to her swollen belly, and felt the soft flutters of the baby moving against her skin. It was an unusual feeling, like there were literally butterflies in her stomach. Izayoi assured Mikoto that the activity was normal, as the baby was mature enough to begin reacting to the things that surround it, such as temperature and sounds.

Swallowing her courage, she took a short breath and stepped onto the patio.

"Madara," she whispered to him.

No response.

"Madara, please,"

"Please what?" he snapped at her.

She had been expecting it, but the bark still made her recoil in uncertainty. She had enough of him moping, Izuna had been gone for just over a week and she couldn't keep the clan steady without him. The elders were already aggravated at his absence from the last two council meetings. They were well aware of the circumstances, but they firmly believed that duty to the clan far outweighed personal issues. However, they couldn't understand the situation the way Mikoto did. Izuna was probably the one thing that held Madara together, he was the reason Madara wanted to create the perfect village with Hashirama in the first place.

With his reason gone, why should he fight anymore?

Madara turned his head to look at his wife, "You shouldn't be out here," he said darkly, referring to the fact that she could possibly get sick from being exposed to the cold and the rain.

"Neither should you," she retorted calmly.

"Don't test my patience Mikoto," he snarled, "I'm not in the mood,"

Mikoto sighed, disgruntled, "I know Izuna's passing was hard for you, but…"

"Don't bring that up either!" He interrupted her and turned his body to face her.

He examined her briefly. Where she would once cower away from his unfavorable moods, she instead stood there, calmer than a Buddhist monk. Her wood colored irises looked down on him with an emotion he hadn't seen in her before. It was pity. She knew he was in his lowest mindset, where he felt nothing else mattered anymore, and nothing could make things the same as they once were. His youngest brother who he had sworn to protect died in his very arms, because Madara's thirst for power got the better of him, and he sought after Hashirama instead of protecting Izuna against Tobirama. He knew that Tobirama was more skilled than his younger brother, and yet he still allowed the silver Senju to tear into his brother ruthlessly, resulting in his death.

He stood up abruptly, and Mikoto kept her gaze on him, raising her head as she watched him stand on the patio. His bare legs from under his blue yukata dripped from the rain, and the hem of his clothing was saturated. She sighed inwardly and then focused her gaze outwards to the courtyard as Madara brushed past her, allowing his shoulder to touch hers ever so lightly.

"I'm hungry," he said, his tone much less harsh, but still held the same coldness he had been using with everyone this last week, "make me some food," his voice trailed off into the house as he headed towards their bedroom.

Her eyes lowered to the floor, she figured he was most likely just trying to keep her out of his way. In a way, she was grateful that he was doing that, for if she pressed on his nerves any further, she was worried that he may not be so forgiving. He was keeping her at a distance for her own good. It wasn't because she bothered him, but instead it was because he didn't want to lose his temper around her and accidentally stress her or the baby. A small smile graced her lips; at least he still cared in some small way.

Oooooo

"Lady Mikoto!"

The voice of an Uchiha shinobi made the matriarch raise her head from the kimono she was examining with Airi. Mikoto watched as the young boy ran up to her, panting and his eyes full of urgency. She recognized him has one of the young boys who normally served the elders during council meetings. He was a well behaved young boy, probably around thirteen years old with the classic dark Uchiha eyes, but his hair had a greyer tint to it than the rest of his clansmen. His bangs were slightly damp from sweat as he ran in the summer sun.

The Uchiha elders had given the travelling gypsies' permission to trade their goods in the Uchiha village for a few days. They camped just outside the village, and had their own ways of defending themselves. They made Mikoto weary at times, and she didn't quite trust them. However, they would always bring the most beautiful silk kimonos and jewelry from different lands; as well as weapons and different foods. The kimono Mikoto and Airi were admiring was from the lightning country, it was black with striking golden floral designs and the back of the kimono was an elongated, mythical dragon embroidery. The handiwork and time that would have gone into it would have been phenomenal, and Mikoto was amazed at how much time and effort people had to make these masterpieces to sell.

The young boy stopped a few meters from her, and he bowed low to the Uchiha matriarch before looking up at her, she pursed her lips and furrowed her brows into a look of concern.

"What is it?" she asked suspiciously.

"Senju shinobi are at the gate, they're carrying a yellow banner,"

Mikoto paused; a clan carrying a yellow banner normally indicated that there was a peace envoy among them. This envoy usually carried a message to give to the enemy clan, and the shinobi surrounding it were just bodyguards. Normally the clan leader was to meet them at the village gates, but Madara was still not in the mood to receive anyone, especially a Senju peace envoy.

"I will go and meet them," Mikoto said to Airi, but the cousin turned and put a hand on her friend's shoulder in protest.

"What if it's a trap?"

"The Senju aren't known to be that dishonorable," Mikoto responded to her friend.

Airi was referring to the fact that some clans sent peace envoys as suicide missions, to infiltrate and kill any and all shinobi and civilian within a village until they themselves were killed. It was an incredibly low act for a clan to do; it was only in times of desperation where that kind of thing would occur. Mikoto was confident the Senju clan wouldn't try such a thing to the Uchihas. They had their honor to uphold.

The three Uchiha walked to the front gate, and word must have reached the elders as they too sent a few elite Jonin to even the numbers. However, they knew that neither party was allowed to attack, as it was considered foul play and dishonorable. No one was allowed to threaten a messenger or his team. The Senju shinobi stood clad in their usual grey armor all bearing their clan's symbol etched into the collar and shoulders of their armor.

From the center of the four Senju shinobi, a woman stepped forward. She was also wearing the standard Senju armor, but she was the one who had the green banner draped over her shoulder. This indicated that she was the messenger. The Senju eventually spotted Mikoto approaching them, and the Uchiha guards parted to allow her to pass through. Instantly, Mikoto saw their eyes fall straight to her swollen belly. The Uchiha saw this, and went instantly rigid.

"We are here to see Madara Uchiha, we have a message from our leader, Hashirama Senju," the woman spoke openly.

Mikoto pressed her lips together and thought for a moment, if she was to fetch Madara, the Senju would have time to linger in the village. Plus, she knew that he wasn't exactly in the mood to see anyone at the moment, especially Senju. He had gotten better over the last couple of days, but she thought it'd be best for everyone involved if Mikoto passed on the message. Madara would most likely send the Senju's heads back to Hashirama.

"I will receive the message," Mikoto said firmly.

"The message is strictly for the clan head," the Senju woman retorted while brushing some of her sandy blonde hair out of her eyes.

"I am the Uchiha matriarch," Mikoto replied calmly, she wasn't overly offended by the Senju woman, because it was likely that she didn't know who Mikoto was. However, it would have been obvious by the way the Uchiha clansmen parted and dipped their heads to her, that she was someone important. Mikoto was considered clan leader in Madara's stead when he was absent or otherwise occupied.

Upon hearing this, the five Senju bowed low towards Mikoto.

"Forgive me, my lady," The Senju woman said, "My name is Toka Senju,"

"What is the message?" Mikoto said quickly, not wanting to dwindle any longer lest Madara gets word that Senju shinobi were at his village gates.

Toka held out her hand and in it was a scroll that was stamped and sealed with black wax. Mikoto gingerly took it from the Senju woman, and kept it in her hand. She thought it'd be best to at least let Madara open it and read it.

"Our Lord Hashirama would like a response in three days," Toka said.

"Thank you, will that be all?" Mikoto asked.

"He," Toka was hesitant, "he also verbally expresses his humblest sympathies for injury of Izuna Uchiha,"

Mikoto tensed up, "I'll let him know,"

Little did the Senju shinobi know, Izuna had died from said injury, but Mikoto was not willing to divulge that information.

The Senju had left, and the Uchiha shinobi on guard remained at the gates to ensure the enemy clan had left the vicinity entirely. If they lingered, they may be at liberty to attack, and the Uchiha had to be prepared for it.

Mikoto looked down at the scroll in her hands as she walked towards her home. Airi had left to go to the hospital not that long ago. Dusk was approaching, and Mikoto thought that Madara would want something for dinner soon. She knew he enjoyed her cooking no matter his mood, so at least there was some small way she could cheer him up.

Inwardly, Mikoto wondered what the scroll could contain. Was it possible that it was an alliance request? That would have been bold of the Senju leader, as they had just killed his brother. It was almost like adding insult to injury. Mikoto's mind wandered back to the Senju, and what she knew of them. She knew about the two brothers, Hashirama and Tobirama. The older brother ruled as clan leader while the younger, white haired brother was his second in command. She was also aware of the Senju heir, a baby boy of only a few months. Mikoto learned that a long time ago the Uchiha elders had sent spies to the Senju encampment to gather information on numbers and arsenal. The Uchiha stealth shinobi were brilliant at what they did, but the right sensory enemy could detect them and before long a battle would ensue. It was known among the Uchiha that Tobirama was a skilled sensory and water user. She also learned from Airi that it was Tobirama who had found her at the lake all those months ago.

Just as her bump was starting to form, Mikoto had been in a meeting where the elders were suggesting sending an assassin after Hashirama's wife and son. Despite sounding cruel of the Elders, it was simply a war tactic, so that the Senju wouldn't have an heir and if the Senju matriarch was to die, then the chances of another heir emerging soon would be slim. That war tactic made Mikoto's skin crawl, and it enraged her. However, she couldn't express it to them, they wouldn't care. She couldn't stand the idea of the blood of a woman and an innocent child be on hers and Madara's hands.

Her thoughts were then drawn to herself, and her baby. What if the Tatsuya try that sort of tactic against her? She then understood why Madara had a Jonin guard with her wherever she went, for her protection. If she were to die, what would happen then? A shiver ran down her spine and a flutter in her stomach told her the baby was uneasy. Placing a hand gently under her belly, she held the weight, relieving her back. She suddenly felt fearful of having the baby, because the innocent Uchiha child would be in immediate danger, purely because of whom its parents were and its position. The image of the perfect village flashed in Mikoto's mind. If Madara and Hashirama created that perfect village, where war and bloodshed didn't exist, then perhaps their baby would be safe.

She entered the house, and instantly the smell of tobacco reached her nostrils. It seemed Madara had just been smoking on the patio. Waving her hand in the air, she slipped off her sandals in the entry foyer and walked bare-footed down the hall. She thought to see where Madara was first before making something to eat, as he may not be hungry at that hour. She came across their bedroom, where dim candlelight shone through the paper walls. Sliding the door open, Mikoto stepped inside.

Her eyes scanned the room for a moment, and eventually she found Madara sitting on the floor, leaning against the windowsill. He was staring up into the night, possibly unaware that she was even in the room. It was almost as if he was silently wishing, praying for his brother to return to him. He hadn't taken this death well. Just like after his father's death, he was moping around the house, constantly moody, and didn't want a cent of anyone's time or company.

Then, Mikoto's gaze moved from her husband to the floor, where there was at least seven or eight sake bottles strewn across the floor. She instantly frowned at the sight. She had never known Madara to drink excessively, and she wasn't even sure if she wanted to talk to him. It had almost gotten out of hand; his low state was becoming intolerable for her.

She threw the scroll on their bed, leaving it forgotten for the time being, and she marched over to him, making sure to avoid the sake bottles. She then kneeled next to him, but he kept his gaze out the window, refusing to acknowledge her presence.

"Madara," She called to him.

There was no response, and she growled.

"Enough of this, Madara!" She exclaimed as she clutched his face gently with her hands and forced her to look at him.

He stared into her fierce eyes, and he was reminded why he fell in love with her. He was hurt, confused, and enraged by the death of his brother, and he knew he didn't know how to channel these emotions properly. When Uchiha love, they love so fiercely and deeply that when the one they love is lost, it sends them almost insane. Mikoto was not a true born Uchiha, so she was the outside influence that was able to bring Madara back to reality. Even as she glared at him so sternly, there was still the light and spark in her eyes that made him realize how he was acting.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself," She said to him, brushing his bangs from his face. He allowed this gesture, because they were in the privacy and comfort of their own bedroom, he felt slightly too un-coordinated to even move at that moment anyway.

"Yes, Izuna is gone, my love," she continued, "but I know he wouldn't want you to wallow in pity like this. I can't keep this up anymore on my own, the clan needs you, the elders need you, and above all I need you,"

Something warm and wet fell on Mikoto's hand as she looked at him. She arched her brows curiously as she forced him to stare at her, she could see his eyes turn wet and red, and his breath hitched in his throat. Of course, that was it; Mikoto was so blind to it.

She hadn't noticed that he had not cried yet, despite his dark mood and isolation for the last few weeks, he hadn't properly mourned for his brother.

How could he though? He was the leader of the great Uchiha clan, and his father taught him that shinobi never cried, no matter the circumstance. He hadn't felt a tear slide down his cheek in almost ten years. He was hardened and rigid when his other siblings died, and he was the same when his father died. He took his anger and sadness out of others and that was normal for him. However, Mikoto was putting up a fighting front, and he was losing the battle. She wasn't allowing him to walk all over her and snap at her. She had certainly changed from the meek little Hagoromo woman he met a while back. Now, she sat before him as an independent, confident, matriarch worthy to lead any clan.

While she remained strong, he allowed himself to become weak for just that moment.

He leaned forward into her, and buried his head into her chest. There, he sobbed wholeheartedly. His tears stained her kimono, but she didn't care. Instead, she held him close to her and allowed him to cry into her. She had never seen him like this, and she hoped this moment of weakness was a one-time thing. Plus, the bottles of sake probably didn't help either. She slid off her knees and sat in a more comfortable position.

He was a quiet, dignified crier, his sobs were very short and hushed, while he allowed his tears to flow freely into her. She wrapped her arms around him, stroking his hair as he continued to let his emotions go.

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I'm not sure why, but I'm struggling so hard with Madara's character! I want to make him seem more human but in the back of my head I'm thinking "You're going too OOC with this woman!"

What do you think?

R&R Please!