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 35

Heal

She stared up at him, her jaw going slack with perplexity and her brows creased into a confused yet bemused knot. Were the gods playing tricks on her mind? Had she inhaled too much of her father's smoke that day, or perhaps her mind was creating his image to combat its loneliness and despair. It had been six long months, and she was able to finally see his face again. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to hit him, kiss him, or kill him. Her stomach bubbled with a mixture of rage and excitement, but she kept it hidden, and instead her face still held a perplexed expression.

Madara remained silent and simply stared back at her. He noticed that she hadn't removed his clothing from the floor the night he left, and he could even make out the soft glint of the same sake bottle, along with a few more. Had she been drinking? No, that wasn't like her. Her eyes were not bloodshot and she was able to stay steady on her feet. Mikoto looked as if she had seen a ghost, and perhaps she was seeing one, as he would have guessed that she believed he was dead.

However, Madara was very much alive.

"Madara," she breathed, repeating herself.

"Is that all you have to say?" the Uchiha leader said to her, his deep voice laced with silk.

She shook her head slowly while lowering her gaze. She could feel hot tears begin to well up behind her eyelids. Just as she began to recover from the emotional trauma and torment, he had to return and remind her of what she had ultimately lost. Whenever she looked at Madara, she could see Indra. His presence in the room was dark and empowering, much colder than what she remembered. He had kept his hair long, and it was swept to the side, slightly covering his right eye. Clean, maroon armor glistened against the moonlight, showing a few scratches and dints here and there.

She looked back up at him, "Madara,"

"Foolish woman," he smirked as he walked towards her. She felt no evil intent in his step, nor did she feel overly threatened or in any danger. She let him walk towards her, and allowed him to place his hands on her shoulders. His touch was gentle, but firm. The touch made her look straight into his eyes, despite the nagging fear in her mind of succumbing to another of his genjutsus.

"You're just an illusion, my mind is playing tricks on me," she said to him, her voice nothing more than a whisper.

"I assure you, I'm very real," he reached one of his gloved hands to her chin, gripping it tightly so that she couldn't look away from him.

"Why have you come back?" she asked him.

Madara went slightly rigid, "To see you,"

Mikoto sent him a short glare, not satisfied with his response. Madara saw this, and he immediately sighed and let go of her completely, letting his arms rest to his sides. Silence reigned, but her glare didn't falter.

"I am challenging Hashirama," he said plainly,

Mikoto's glare turned into a frown, "Are you going to destroy everything you've built together?"

"If it means a new start to a better world," Madara explained, "Then yes,"

Mikoto's eyes widened as realization settled in. She slowly began to understand why Madara had come to her. Not only to see her, but to say goodbye. She knew this challenge was going to be fights to the death, only one will emerge victorious and breathing.

"Don't, please," her voice cracked as she felt like she was begging him, "I won't let you,"

"This is something I must do," he said as he reached up and cupped her cheek with his gloved hand, "I came to be with you one last time, no one knows I'm here,"

It was true; Madara was suppressing his chakra as much as he could at that moment. He was grateful that Yuna wasn't in the home, and that Mikoto was alone, it would make it easier for him to relax. However, his mind slowly floated to Tobirama Senju, the best sensory he had ever encountered. Just a small flicker of chakra or an error on Madara's part would result in the white haired man alerting his brother. He didn't want that, not yet anyway. For the moment, he wanted to focus on his wife, and let her know that she was still loved, even if he was never going to return.

He leaned into her, closing the gap between their bodies and craned his head down to plant a gentle kiss on her lips. However, he felt resistance as her hands were pushing on his chest. Confused, he pulled back from her and looked into her eyes, his brows furrowed, almost angered. Why was she resisting his touch? He honestly couldn't blame her, as he had been missing for so long, she was probably infuriated with him. His heart clenched as he pulled his face into a snarl.

"What is it?" he asked her acidly.

"I can't," she whispered fearfully as her voice trailed off.

He paused briefly, "Have you taken another lover?" Gods have mercy on the man who dared to touch his wife, consented or not. He felt a sudden sting of hurt as she stared at him wide-eyed. Her doe eyes began to shed bittersweet tears. They were tears of happiness, longing, and most of all: despair.

"No!" she said to him quickly, slightly insulted that he would even think such a thing! True, she was going to wait a year, and if he hadn't returned then perhaps let him go, but her love for him was far too precious to just give him up so easily, she would never disgrace his honor.

"It's just," her voice trailed off, trying to think of what to say, "I can't just let you walk away like this, not again, and knowing this time you may not come back to me,"

Madara smirked and shook his head, "my dear foolish little wife," he said as he reached up and cupped her cheeks with his hands, "whether it's in this life or the next, I will always come back to you,"

That was probably one of the most sentimental yet heartbreaking things he had ever said to her.

Without any further words, nor any regard for her response, Madara quickly closed the gap between them again and pressed his lips against hers in a fierce kiss. He missed the taste of her sweet lips; he missed the soft pink petals against his mouth. He deepened the kiss, and allowed his tongue to slide every so gingerly into her mouth, engaging her in a passionate dance with their mouths. She let out a small sigh against their kiss, one of reserved contentedness, one that told him that Mikoto had finally let herself go and embraced their moment.

He started slow, he wanted to savor their last moments together, he wanted to block all other agendas and just focus on nothing but her. One woman had never made him feel so alive before, even after almost nine years of marriage. She still surprised him, allured him, enticed him, and above all, he still loved her. Uchiha's love ran deep, to a point where it could consume them. Over his years, his father had taught him to never love anyone, but he couldn't help but fall in love with Mikoto. The first moment her brown eyes met his all those years ago he couldn't keep her out of his head. She eventually became his drug, his incredibly addictive drug that gave him such a high whenever he touched her.

He still loved her unconditionally, even if she resents him for what had happened to Indra. They had both worked so hard and tirelessly to raise a strong, balanced young man, only to have it ripped away from them in a situation that could have easily been prevented had Madara just paid attention to his son. The blame was still there. The guilt in the depth of his heart will never fade, but he knew he could create a new world for them, one where Indra was alive and they were once again a happy family.

This new world would come at a price though.

He couldn't think about any of that now. Instead, he let his hands creep from her cheeks to her shoulders, softly brushing her jaw and neck as they went. The touch sent soft shivers down her body, he was teasing her, and he could only grin against their kiss as she let out a soft sigh.

Although he wanted to go slow, they had to be quick lest Yuna returned or he accidentally let his chakra signature slip, resulting in the village being alerted of his presence.

He pulled the collar of her robe down, exposing her bare shoulders to him and he kissed them lovingly, she in turn placed her hands on his shirt. He didn't have his armor on him, as he had left it behind before he had left. It didn't take long for him to unclip his gunbai and kama and have them strewn on the floor, forgotten for the moment.

With one swift pull, Madara had untied the cord that held Mikoto's robe together, and the nightly breeze opened it ever so slightly to reveal the supple pair of mounds that had both pleasured him and nursed their son. He took one in his left hand, letting his thumb run over her soft nipple as he felt it harden against his touch and the night's cool air. He in turn discarded his shirt, and she swept her hands across his board chest, taking in every detail, and even noticing some new scars. He had been in combat while he was away, she expected that. She daren't ask the severity of those new scars, nor did she want to know when and how he got them, she didn't want to worry herself stupid.

After he examined her body, taking in its every curve and peak, he pushed the robe from her shoulders and let it flutter effortlessly to the floor. She still liked to sleep naked, he reminisced with a smirk at how she did that when she was pregnant, and he took advantage of such a moment every chance he got. Her body was still as he remembered, from the softness of her skin right down to the faded marks on her stomach that reminded them both she once carried a babe. He even saw the scar she still had from years ago when Hiro had clipped her shoulder with a Kunai.

"You're still beautiful," Madara mumbled as he captured her lips in another kiss and pushed her gently with his body onto the bed, letting her collapse underneath him. He rid himself of his pants before joining her, and she didn't hesitate to look at the male form above her. A small smile graced her lips, she missed him dearly.

"So are you," she whispered gently against him, feeling his hot breath on her neck as he trailed kisses down her neck to the valley between her breasts. She sighed underneath him, fisting his midnight hair in her hands, after all this time his hair still felt like fine silk. Madara moved his hands under her back, arching her into him as he took one of her sweet pink buds into his mouth. He knew all of his wife's sweet spots to make her moan with absolute desire. The gentle biting of her nipple was one of them. She let out a gentle mewl as he tongue danced around her breast as he moved to nip her other rosebud.

All the while, his right hand moved from her back and it crept up her inner thigh. From there, his fingers grazed lazily over her soft folds, making her gasp with excitement. He played with her as he stared at her face, watching her eyes close with pleasure and her face twisted with delight. She bucked into his hand as he moved his two fingers within her, touching her sweetest treasure. He withdrew his fingers, slick with her wanting, not allowing her to reach her ultimate pleasure. He would reserve that moment.

She whimpered, her hands still tangled through his hair as she pulled him upwards roughly, forcing him to place another kiss on her lips. He wasted no time in adjusting himself between her legs, letting the very tip of his manhood rest against her sensitive entrance. She looked up at him and her brows furrowed in confusion.

"So soon?" Normally their lovemaking lasted hours, she wanted to do things to him as well, but it seemed he wanted to keep things going at a fast pace.

"I have to," he said gently, "I can't linger here much longer,"

Nodding in understanding, she rested her calves on either shoulder and he reached up to kiss her delicate ankle. Then, without his gaze leaving hers, he gripped her hips firmly and thrust himself inside her hard and in full. It had been too long since he had been inside her. He didn't bed any other women while he was away, as he was an honorable man. Her sweet cave clenched around him as she too arched her back towards him in pleasure.

She was still tight, despite having given birth. Madara held onto her hips as he thrust into her at a steady pace, enjoying not only the warmth of her core, but also the sight of her breasts bouncing with each wave. She reached her hands above her head, fisting the sheets as she threw her head back and moaned silkily. The noises she made, the way she felt, the way her body shivered under his touch, these were all things he was going to miss and he almost had a tear in his eye at the thought. If he won the battle against Hashirama, he wasn't even sure if he could even show himself in the village again.

She moaned underneath him, and she could feel the white hot pleasure form in the pit of her stomach. It was incredible, that only the slightest touches from him sent her wild with desire. She gasped suddenly as she could suddenly see stars behind her eyelids; he had hit an overly sensitive spot. With her legs over his shoulders, he was able to thrust deeply into her. As he saw her mouth go agape and he heard her reaction, he quickened his pace, letting himself hit that spot over and over.

The pleasure built up within Mikoto, and she arched herself into him as she reached the climax of her desire and lust. In turn, she felt him tense up and shudder as white hot liquid spurted inside her. She could also think of this as his last chance to give her a child. He rode his climax out, slowing his momentum to dull and shallow thrusts. Panting, he stayed inside her as her inner walls milked him. She too was panting; her skin glistened with sweat against the paling moon.

As he pulled out of her, she lay on her side and felt his warm arms wrap around her possessively.

That was all she remembered.

Chocolate eyes opened a sliver to be met with total darkness. Her first instinct told her that it was still night time. She inhaled deeply, basking in the musk of sweat and love making. It was such a sweet, sinful smell. She stretched herself out, and had the mind to go back to sleep, but then the memories came back.

She shot up, and looked at the empty space next to her.

He was gone.

"No," she whispered as she threw herself out of her bed and slipped on her robe and a pair of undergarments. Looking around the darkened room, she noticed that his gunbai was gone, and so was his kama. Her gaze then wandered to the open cabinet at the opposite end of the room, his armor was gone as well.

"Shit," She breathed as she pushed herself up on the windowsill, her legs still feeling like jelly, and she quickly leapt from the window and out into the night.

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"Hashirama!"

The Hokage paused; there were very few people who called him by name with no formal titles or etiquette. A female figure was fast approaching in the distance as he stood at the gates of Konoha. She came closer, and he could make out long black hair flowing behind the figure and white porcelain skin. The way her robe flowed behind her showed her bare legs up to her thigh, making Hashirama guess that she was too focused on her mission to even dress decently. He paid no mind to that, as he was too focused on the desperation in her eyes. He moved his hand to the hilt of his katana, adjusting it uncomfortably as she finally reached him.

Mikoto paused and stared at him, his wooden eyes darkened by not only the night, but also with the knowledge of what was to come.

"Please," Mikoto breathed as she stopped in front of him, blocking his path.

"I have to, Mikoto," Hashirama responded curtly as he proceeded to walk around her. He was shocked however when he suddenly felt her palm push against his maroon armor. She moved herself in front of him again; she was desperate to keep him in the village.

"Don't do it, just talk to him!" she pleaded again.

Hashirama shook his head, "he doesn't want to talk,"

"There must be another way!"

The Uchiha matriarch was desperate to stop any battle between the two clan leaders out of fear that she would never see her husband again. Mito was also in despair back home, but she graciously accepted whatever fate may come. Mikoto lacked the finesse and culture of a true noble, but instead the woman was able to speak her mind and stand up for the just and true, a trait Mito lacked. Hashirama understood completely what Mikoto was trying to do and why she was trying to do it.

"There isn't, Madara initiated the challenge, and as Hokage, I must answer it to protect the village,"

He made another attempt to get out of her way, but again he was met with resistance.

"Please Hashirama, he is a good man! He is misunderstood; you of all people would-!"

"Madara has become a threat to the village and a danger to its people!" Hashirama snapped, his temper rarely got the better of him, but when it came to someone trying to stop him from performing his duty as a Hokage, leader, father, friend, or anything else, he had to be firm.

With one swift movement, Hashirama's hand reached out to grip Mikoto's wrist. From there, he pulled her closer to him and let her hand come into view. The silver sharpness of a kunai glistened against the night, and Hashirama moved his gaze from the blade to Mikoto with contempt.

Would she really try to assassinate the Hokage to save her husband? She must really love him.

"Tobirama," Hashirama said quickly and Mikoto's eyes widened, she hadn't even noticed that her silver haired friend had been off to the side the whole time.

Tobirama wanted to assist his older brother with the confrontation, but the older Senju denied him that opportunity, saying that it was his battle alone with Madara. It was a battle both men had been yearning for since they were young boys at the river. It was finally time to see who the stronger shinobi was and ultimately, who was worthy to lead the shinobi world forward into the future.

Tobirama looked up to his brother after a quick glance at Mikoto, never had he seen her in such an undignified state, was this what love did to someone? Tobirama would have no part of it! He painfully admitted to himself that perhaps the Uchiha's curse of hatred was also influential as well as hereditary. Her loved had turned into spiteful gestures against the Hokage. The kunai was all they needed to see in order to know that Mikoto was not in a stable condition mentally.

There was a long pause.

"Take Mikoto to the jail," he said reluctantly, watching the woman's eyes glow with fear, "place her in a cell for the time being, so that she can't hurt anyone, not even herself,"

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Here's an update!

There are only about two chapters to go, so hopefully I should have this story finished by mid-January! I'm not very good at writing lemons. :\ Thought I'd give it a shot. Hahaha.

R&R Please!