Category: Romantic Fluff
Characters: Shikamaru Nara, Temari
Additional Tags: Medieval AU
Hey, everybody! Here is my piece for Day 2 of ShikaTema Week for the prompt "Masquerade." I hope everyone enjoys it~!
Temari's slender arms glided through the sleeves of the ballgown as her attending ladies slipped it over her head. The heavy fabric slumped against her legs to puddle at her feet in rivers of white and cream and gold. One of her waiting ladies bundled a bronze corset to her chest, while another began tying up the ribbons with expert fingers. Careful hands smoothed every crease and crumple in the ballgown's embroidered, bejeweled skirt as they straightened out the magnificent train, while pooled behind Temari like a grand golden-brown lake. Her blue-green eyes searched her reflection in the mirror as a maid combed and styled her voluminous, fluffy blonde hair, piling it atop her head in two buns streamed with beads of topaz. They settled a golden crown inlaid with crystal, tourmaline, and smoky quartz upon her brow and strung dangling earrings from her lobes. Perfumes of sandalwood, cinnamon, and nutmeg clouded the air around her, before the misted droplets settled upon her skin and were absorbed. Finally, a mask fashioned in the image of a golden hawk fell over her eyes, and Temari's preparations were at last complete.
"You look splendid, my lady," one of her attendants cooed over her shoulder with a happy smile. Temari's lips curled up into a smirk, and she skimmed her fingers underneath her chin, admiring her regal personage reflected within the smooth glass.
"You think?" The ladies giggled at her pseudo-insecurity. Temari's ladies revered her for her unflinching confidence and brash boldness, so they knew her comment was in jest. Temari ruffled the heavy skirts enveloping her smooth, slender frame. "I must, or Father will be most displeased." Discontentment saturated her voice.
"I am sure that His Majesty's efforts to secure My Lady a husband will be most successful," one of the young girls, a hopeless romantic, sighed dreamily at her hip as she adjusted the train of Temari's gown. The princess snorted derisively and cocked back her head.
"At the very least, he has finally allowed me to seek my own suitor. I cannot believe he offered me that bungling, dreamy-eyed fool that is the Uzumaki heir. He has eyes for the captain of his guard, and that is painfully obvious," she haughtily snorted. Not that Temari cared if the future king of Konoha kingdom was besotted with the stoic, raven-haired knight; as long as he left her well enough alone, he could romance the entirety of his royal sentinel for all she cared. "It is too bad for the Hyuga princess, though," she smirked as her ladies trilled in laughter. "The poor dear is enamored with him and has no idea that he grazes on the other side of the pasture."
"My Lady Temari! You are too bold!"
"That Sasuke Uchiha is a dream, though. I cannot blame Lord Naruto for his fondness."
"You hush now!" Temari laughed as she strode away from the mirror to her bower's window while her ladies gossiped of various lords and ladies. Temari sank onto the plush pillow of her window seat, watching the stream of horse-drawn carriages and guard details pour in through the open gates of the desert palace. Many had come from far and wide to woo the indomitable Temari of the Sand, and many would leave with their hopes ruthlessly dashed. Temari leaned her cheek in her hand with a weary smile.
"Father only wants to marry me off so that I can produce a male heir before he has to relinquish his throne to me." Temari was the only one available to be heir, but her father still refused it, as she was a woman. Their mother had died in childbirth of Gaara, and her loss drove their father to weld iron around his heart. He became dispassionate and totalitarian and cruel. It drove Kankuro to rebel and renounce his royal name to escape into the desert sands, and poor little Gaara was driven mad and imprisoned for his insanity and malice. In love for her poor baby brother, she arranged for his smuggling beyond the border.
Temari was the only one who knew what had become of them. Somehow, in the vast full world, they had reclaimed their own identities and were living peaceful lives in the neighboring forest land of Konoha, under the protection of the very princeling that had half-heartedly courted Temari. He was a fool with his heart on his sleeve, but Temari was at least grateful he had offered her displaced brothers a home with no strings attached. She smirked wryly as she watched the sun sink below the red sands. "It is a curse to be a woman, but especially in royalty. Count yourselves lucky in that, my dears," she said as she turned back to her waiting ladies. They all bowed their heads and shuffled their feet. The world will still be cruel to them. It has no love of the female sex, she grimaced.
It didn't matter if the world had no love for Temari. Every mountain that it tossed as her would be flung aside with the force of a sandstorm. She would not relinquish her agency, not for anything. "Is it time?" she asked, and languidly rose from the window seat. Darkness had descended over the desert; one by one, the braziers scattered around the palace were springing alive with flame.
"Yes, my lady."
"Come then. Let us see what the desert winds have brought us," Temari smiled and strolled towards the door. Two of her ladies carried her sprawling skirt train, while another held her hand to escort her properly. Together, they wound around the spiraling sandstone steps of her tower suite into the main wing of the lofty palace. The ball was already underway; lamplight glowed at the end of the carpeted hall, soft and yellow, and minstrels' music floated on the air. As they rounded the corner, Temari watched the shadows dance along the walls. Dark men led grey ladies in dance all around her. They danced like their feet rested on the ever-present wind, skirts swishing like banners caught high in the morning breeze. Temari wondered if any among them would intrigue her enough even to entertain the thought of marriage. Most likely not. Most of them desire the iron mines, not me.
Politics was a cutthroat world, after all.
"Hail, Princess Temari!" a squire announced as she and her ladies strode into the ballroom. The attendants paused their revelry to return the hailing and bow respectfully to her. Their masked personages studied her as she marched to the long, clothed table situated at the back of the room, where her father was stuffing his face with roast quail imported from Konoha. They were lucky their kingdom sat upon the densest concentration of ore in all the realm, else he would likely be dining on stewed rat. Temari seated herself in the gilded chair beside him, and the servants wasted no time in procuring her a plate laden with delicacies imported from almost every kingdom in the Great Alliance.
"So, my daughter," King Rasa tutted as he cracked the wing joint of the artichoke-stuffed bird, "many have come to look upon your beauty. Will you not at least give them the pleasure of a smile?"
"That pleasure must be earned," she answered stoically and crunched on a tomato with only enough force to not breach propriety. He scowled at her.
"Willful girl. You should show more respect to your father."
"That pleasure must also be earned." Temari ignored his scathing glares to partake in the lovely spinach salad before her. Rasa continued to silently fume beside her; Temari wished she could exploit her willfulness in full capacity, but she did owe a duty to her kingdom to find a suitable husband, at least. As she chewed on the tender flesh of the quail, her sea-blue eyes raked the crowd of lords and ladies. A multitude of masks pranced within the sea of bodies- a blooming lotus, a roaring bear, a graceful swan, a gallant lion, a watchful crow, a tusked boar, and a colorful butterfly, to name a few. However, it was the majestic stag that caught her gaze for more than a few seconds, as its wearer strode undauntedly up to the royal table.
"Your Majesty. My Lady," he uttered respectfully as he held a hand to his chest and bowed down to a ninety-degree-angle. The curved white horns of his mask jutted into the air like pale fulgurite. Black eyes twinkled behind the white-spotted curves of the mask as the man smirked at Temari. "Care to dance?" He asked while extending his hand to the princess. Temari had to summon all the will in her body to keep her mouth from falling open. What cheek, to beseech me as I am eating! The glimmer in his onyx eyes indicated that he was well aware of the nerve of his action. Temari found herself smiling at his boldness. No man had ever dared so brazenly court her. Despite her father's complaints, she found herself bundling up her skirts to hurry around the edge of the table.
"It would be my pleasure, good sir," she responded once she was in front of him, dropping into a curtsy. His smirk widened when she slipped her hand into his. A pink haze alighted her cheeks as he brought it to his mouth to drop a kiss onto it. Those glinting obsidian eyes bored into hers, like a thunderstorm rolling upon the blue-green sea. The snark and self-assurance were a welcome change from simpering, underhanded compliments. Thus, she allowed him to sweep her out onto the dance floor without so much as a peep.
"I had wanted to wait until you finished eating," he admitted as he settled his hand upon her waist and held her other aloft, "but the crowd was rippling with your compliment. I realized I had to make a good first impression. Have I succeeded?"
"No man has ever dared interrupt my dinner."
"I'll take that as a 'yes,'" he purred. He eased into the movements as the band started up their melody, circling her around the marble dance floor. Temari's dress swished around her knees as he rocked her gently with the beat, guiding her with utter surety. It was clear that her suitor was of high birth, perhaps even a prince.
"Tell me. From where do you come?"
"The vast forest lands to the east, if it pleases My Lady," he responded. He paused to spin her around before easily reclaiming her slender corseted waist. "My family has long made a living developing medicines and droughts for the illnesses of the world."
"You're Shikamaru Nara?" she gasped in shock, and he nodded. The Naras were under the dominion of the Uzumaki's kingdom, a noble house renowned for their doctors rather than their knights. They were known to keep very much to themselves, marrying middleborn children of dukes and minor lords. One had never been so bold as to court a princess, let alone one of the heirs to the vast wealth of the Sand Kingdom. Temari found herself relishing the fact. "You are bold."
"I imagine you grow bored of empty flatteries and the whispers of sycophants who want nothing more than to usurp your throne."
"How do I know I am not in the arms of a usurper as we speak?" A delighted smirk flashed on his lips, and Shikamaru brought his face close, close enough for his hot breath to puff over her face. A titillated shiver traveled the length of her spine.
"I care not for caverns of iron or halls of gold. My interest lies in a single topaz shimmering in the vastness of the desert." Temari's cheeks blazed with the pinkness of an opal, and she shifted her fingers that were clasped in his hand, feeling them grow clammy with nervous sweat. Many had compared her to precious gems before, but this was the first time it sent a nervous titter springing through her nerves. "It is true, some in this realm are more renowned for their beauty-" Shikamaru cast a look at a raven-haired woman in a moonflower mask who was undoubtedly the Hyuga heiress, "but I find that the flower that blooms under hardship puts them all to shame."
"And what hardship would that be?" Temari asked with a coy grin.
"The crushing thumb of a father who values you more for what is between your legs than what you have to offer." His lewdness set a blaze to her cheeks, but his words rang hollowly in her heart. Her chin dropped against her chest as she bowed her head, for tears were gleaming on her blonde lashes.
"You speak truly. My father wishes to marry me quickly, so that I may produce an eligible heir."
"A pity. I have heard much of the shrewd tenacity of the Desert Rose." The epithet had always grated her. There were much more distinguished and inspiring names she could bear, but she was known for her looks more than anything else. Still, hearing Shikamaru call her such was more bearable than usual. He stepped a little closer to her as he continued to ease her through the dance steps so that their chests brushed. When she glanced up, he was staring into the crowd. "None of these men care for your value, really. They want power, or influence, or wealth. It is dangerous and disappointing to be a woman in politics." Temari blinked disbelievingly. Surely, he must be speaking words that I wish to hear to gain my trust. This man may be more cunning and sly than all the lords in this hall- and so the most perilous. She jumped when he peeked at her with a wry smile. "You are thinking my words dishonest, a ploy to lead you into a false sense of security."
"Indeed. What man has ever cared for a woman's place in this world?"
"A man who recognizes an amazing woman when he sees one." Despite her misgivings, her cheeks still flushed again. He flashed her a sincere smile. "I arrived here four days ago. I wanted to know if the tales of the courteous and intelligent Lady Temari were true. So, I disguised myself and wandered the town. The townsfolk and knights speak very highly of you," he said, making Temari smile shyly. "Your council has averted war many a time. You reallocate funds to ensure the people have food and water and healthcare. I've even heard you descended into the rabble to deliver medicine to plague-ridden peasants while your father insisted that three doctors attend him until the sickness dissipated."
"The people gossip. Rumor is a powerful thing."
"But most rumor contains a speck of truth, no?" Caught red-handed, Temari could only bashfully look down at her feet. It was true; Temari boasted many a political feat. Her father had once been a kind and just man, but age and toil had disfigured him into someone paranoid and venal.
"My father has forgotten that without the people, we are nothing. They are our charge. It is our responsibility to protect and care for them. All he cares about protecting now is his house and his wealth," she sighed dismally with a glance Rasa. He was in fervent discussing with King Minato Namikaze and his queen Kushina; her father was always bleating about maintaining a good relationship until they could stab them in the back and usurp their fertile forest territory. Temari quite liked the royal family, as they were just and fair and well-liked by their people, so she had coaxed her father out of fruitless war efforts many a time. "I am but a means to an end," she lamented quietly, turning back to him to look at him pitifully.
He released her waist to grip her chin between his thumb and forefinger.
"It would be a pity if the beautiful Desert Rose wilted before she ever got to bloom," he murmured. The pad of his thumb ever-so-gently brushed over her bottom lip. His dark eyes studied her intently, and all Temari could do was stare. She had never meant a man like this, that sent her heart fluttering because he saw her, not her throne or her father.
She was gripped with the overwhelming need to see him.
"I wish to leave this place. Be alone… with you." He flashed her a beguiling smirk.
"As My Lady wishes." They ceased dancing, and the room erupted into pleased applause. He offered her his arm, which she took, wrapping her hands around his bicep. He guided her back into the throng, meandering through the mass of royals to lead her towards the exit. They chatted amiably with various prominent figures, and though he was of lower birth, Shikamaru commanded more presence than even the most celebrated kings. After what seemed a life age, they finally slipped behind one of the tapestries into a servants' passage. There, Temari grabbed him by the hand and broke into a run. His startled gasp bounced through the small crawlspace, followed by her gleeful laughter.
"How do you know your way through here?!" he asked loudly as she expertly weaved through the labyrinthine array of tunnels. She stuck out her tongue at him over her shoulder.
"How do you think I snuck out to deliver medicine?"
By the time they burst into the garden, they were red-faced and panting. The moonlight streamed down from a cloudless sky, casting the world in its milk-white glow. The garden was actually a vast greenhouse, as the arid desert climate made it difficult to cultivate most plants. The glass panes misted with condensation from the evening's watering and the plants' respiration. This particular section was the garden proper; another area was cordoned off for the kitchen's supply. Flowers imported from all corners of the realm bloomed here, but regardless of what color their soft petals boasted, they were dyed silver from the starlight.
Temari strolled to a stone bench nearby and sat down, tucking the thick fabric of her skirts under her thighs. Shikamaru eased down beside her and sighed exultantly.
"It's a beautiful garden."
"I imagine the forests of your homeland are much better. Wild, untamed, not carefully tended with every errant leaf snipped away," she frowned with a glance around the pristine garden. Shikamaru chuckled and leaned back on his hands.
"You've got me there." He paused, inhaling the air laden with the robust aroma of loamy soil and fresh water. "There's nothing like it, Temari," he breathed wistfully. "Wandering the paths through the wood, with the birdsong filling the air and decaying leaves crunching under your feet… There is so much life out there, so much wonder." He gave her a humorous look. "Still, the desert has its beauty too." He punctuated the remark with a graze of his knuckles over her cheek. She leaned into the caress, smiling softly.
"Yes. The sky stretches on forever, like a blanket of sapphire over the world… And the sunsets are magnificent. Many a time I have watched the world fall away as the colors bleed over the horizon like paint, filling the kingdom with the glow… I can forget, sometimes, and just watch it sink. No crown, no throne, no iron mines… Just the majesty of it."
Shikamaru smiled, then removed the mask from his face. His sharp jawline seemed all the finer in the white light, and his dark eyes shone like polished hematite. He was incredibly handsome. As Temari stared, his hands came to her face to gently remove the hawk mask from her face, and she allowed him to do so. Slowly, he pulled it away, and drew in a sharp breath.
"You are more beautiful than I could have imagined." She flushed, her cheeks glowing rose in the soft light. He stroked her cheek again, and the pad of his thumb spawned a trail of fire across her cheekbone. His fingertips skipped down her jawline to rest against the column of her throat, feeling the blood pulse thunderously through her veins. "Beautiful, and much too special to be doomed to a bridal gown."
"Yet, doomed I am," she whispered woefully. Shikamaru was a splendid man, more honest and enticing than any she had ever met. Yet, if the courtship proved fruitful, she would still be no more than his bride. Their son, when he came of age, would be ripped from their grasp to begin training for his role as Rasa's successor. Frustrated tears sprung to her eyes to then roll down her cheeks. Shikamaru tutted softly and swept them away, only for more to come. "I am no more than a tool in political bargaining. My talents will never be acknowledged by my father. Whomever I marry, I will be shipped off like common goods and serve only to spawn heirs." She hung her head, sniffling. "It is a lamentable existence."
"Lamentable indeed," he remarked in a soothing whisper, "but is it entirely horrible?" She peered through her blonde lashes at him. "Temari, I cannot give you all that you seek. I cannot change your father's mind." He smiled wanly and cupped her face in his hands; they were so warm and comforting. "All I have to offer you is my heart, true as death. I will love you and you only. I cannot make you a queen, but you shall always rule me. I will live only for your happiness." His voice shattered into a ragged whisper full of emotion, and Temari did not doubt that he spoke truthfully. Her hands rose to stroke the tops of his and her eyes fluttered as she attempted to dry her tears.
"That doesn't sound entirely horrible," she admitted with a small laugh. He smiled relievedly and continued caressing her teary face.
"I wish more than anything that you could be given what you deserve," he said softly and pressed his forehead to hers. "I am sorry. What I can give you falls utterly short of it."
"No," she refused and smiled kindly at him. "What you have offered me tonight is more than anyone has ever given. If you offer me your hand, I will take it gladly," she said and stroked his chin, her fingertips rolling over the black stubble, "for you are the first man who has ever offered himself wholly to me."
"I pity all the men who have come before. They knew not the treasure within their grasp," he smiled thickly. Her eyes now studied his face, the lines and the contours. He truly was handsome, but it was clear that his honesty had caused him much grief. The world was just as cruel to honest and just men as it was to women. Her sea-blue eyes dropped to his lips, and she fancied kissing them. It seemed Shikamaru was having similar thoughts.
Their lips melded together, slotting together like the were made for one another. Her fingers ghosted the side of his face in repetitive touches, while his found purchase on her waist, pulling her closer. His breath clouded over her mouth as he shifted his head to the other side to kiss her with more fervor, drawing a small, needy moan from within her. Their arms wound around each other and every inch of skin possible touched, but it was not enough, not nearly enough…
The world was cruel to Temari, but it was kind enough to give her someone who loved her utterly, truly, wholly… and in that moment, it was enough. It was enough.