Rain that poured over them since dawn had finally stopped, but that didn't help brighten his mood. Madara let a servant help him with his clothes, although it was no different that the things he always wore, except for the material being somewhat shinier. He wore that one for Izuna's wedding, as well as Tobirama's. Given that his own wedding was but a formality, he saw no reason to waste time on having a new one made.

The camp was slowly emptying out, as groups of three or four families had already began moving into the newly named Leaf village. They had previously agreed on moving away gradually, so that one group would already be settled in their homes by the time another one arrived, as to avoid crowds.

His restlessness grew with every Uchiha that made their way out of the camp. What the fuck was Hashirama thinking, letting the Hyuuga and the Uzumaki meddle in their business? The fact such deals were discussed while he was home, burying his father – essentially, behind his back – made him question everything.

But beside the point, he kept the guest list for the wedding extremely short because of Tajima. It seemed awfully disrespectful to throw a celebration so soon after his death. And who would even want to come? Most people disapproved, anyway.

Not that he was in the mood to celebrate, in the first place. He wondered if he was the only groom in the world stupid enough to fight with his bride days before their wedding. They haven't spoken a word since he lost it and yelled at her in the dining room, and commonly he would seek her out to offer an apology. This one time, however, he didn't think she deserved one. He worried for her, only to get a bratty response, so he refused to encourage that in the future. He thought of himself as a strict but caring brother in law, and he planned to also be such a husband.

He grimaced for a moment, recalling how he actually told her to starve herself to death. Gods. Taking a quick glance at his brooding reflection in the mirror, he went out his door, met with Shime who waited, wearing a simple but festive traditional blue dress herself.

"Aren't you handsome?" Smiling, she walked over, and gave Madara a somewhat stiff hug, proceeding to clean invisible dust from his top. "Nervous?" She asked casually when they moved side by side to leave the house.

"Hm." Madara truly didn't know what to tell her. "No, not really." He did worry if everything would go well, unsure how Mego would behave around him now, but that was about it concerning the wedding itself. A persistent feeling of annoyance still lingered in the back of his mind because of her defiance, however. She acted as if he meant to be hurtful when he just tried telling her to take care of herself. What in the world would he do if she got sick? Besides, she wasn't a child, why did he even need to tell her she has to eat? As if he didn't have enough bullshit to deal with.

"Is something the matter?" He heard Shime ask.

"Not really… Well," He sighed. "Sort of. I fought with Mego a few days ago. We're still not talking." He looked over, ready to have her tell him off for not dealing with whatever it was in time for the wedding, but was met with the woman's warm laughter.

"Ah, youth." She gave his shoulder a gentle pat. "I have no doubt you'll settle it by the end of the day."

"Yeah?" His response came even less lively than he expected. "I do hope so."

It took them less than five minutes to arrive to their destination, where an elder who handled the important ceremonies waited behind the arch. After greeting the man – who, if he judged him for marrying his sister in law did nothing to show it – Madara took his place in front of him, with Shime close by. She called him over and he faced her, looking down at his chest, while she fixed another imagined flaw on his suit.

"Are we ready to begin?" The old man creaked, and Madara turned around, following his gaze. He halted for a few moments, allowing his eyes to take in Mego's thin frame as she approached, with Iekara by her side. Bright, luxurious red silk covered her figure; her ornamented hair was tied into a large bun; her blushed face and red lips called for attention when she came close enough. Like a princess, he stupidly compared.

He must have accidentally been too intense, because she snidely averted her gaze when he faced her. He wished to tell her she was beautiful, but it wouldn't feel right given their current state nor would it come naturally to him in front of others. Still, it took him some willpower to tear his eyes away from her.

He never did think much of cosmetics and all the fuss women made of clothes and jewelry, but he could see the vast difference it made. Not necessarily only in Mego's looks. She did look a bit brighter and richer, of course. But what struck him was her demeanor. Was she somewhat prouder, taller, maybe?

Whatever.

Clearing his throat, he turned away to signal he was impatient to get the thing over with. Silent, Mego let go of her father's hand and joined him.

….

Lying in hot bath in the evening, Mego had to note to herself how relaxing her body wasn't doing much when her mind was a mess. She couldn't stop thinking back to her wedding night when she married Izuna. A small, not necessarily happy, smile lingered on her lips at the fond memory. They both drank wine during the celebration, but needed to keep their cool in front of elders and the guests. However when they settled in their bedroom, they ended up drinking a pint each. It was exciting, happy, passionate, and all with someone she didn't even love at the time. She had just met him.

So, why was this wedding night so ugly? Sighing, she leaned her head back on the edge of the tub. She loved Madara, she had accepted that already. Of course, even if they weren't angry with each other, they wouldn't spend it drinking, making love and waking in each other's arms. Still, if only they talked, she felt everything would be fine.

Bathroom door slid open and, looking over her shoulder, she saw Toya enter with a bucket of steaming water. The girl was still very quiet around her, possibly blaming herself for how things were between her and Madara.

"You don't have to warm anymore. I'll be done soon." The handmaiden nodded, pouring the water into the tub, and Mego felt her skin cower at additional warmth. She closed her eyes to enjoy it for a few moments. "Your family is moving tomorrow?"

"Yes, my lady. Early in the morning." She heard as the girl collected towels and the rattling of buckets when she sorted them in the tiny pantry in the corner.

"Finish your chores for tonight and join them. Madara's servants can handle my things too." Mego wouldn't like to travel so far away separately from her family either, and Toya was a very good handmaiden, she felt the girl had earned it.

She opened her eyes, looking Toya's way in confusion. Sure, she didn't want a paean for what she'd done, but she expected at least a 'thank you'. Instead, the girl stared at her wide-eyed, limply holding a towel.

"Toya? Are you—"

"I knew it wasn't my place to speak to lord Madara behind your back, but…" She sniffed, and Mego sat up, realizing the girl had started to cry. "Must you replace me?" She wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "I like working for you."

Mego felt a nervous laugh erupt from her chest, and gestured to show she was misunderstood.

"No, I'm not replacing you." She turned inside the tub to face her completely. "I know you meant well, and you only showed your dedication." She smiled gently. "This is a reward. You'll continue working for me once we're settled."

"Oh…" Toya laughed lightly through tears, and Mego felt her own smile widen. "That's a relief." Inhaling, she blinked her tears away. "Thank you, my lady. I'll do as you say."

….

Dressed in her sleeping gown, with her makeup removed, Mego sat before her vanity, brushing her hair. As silly as it might seem, she left the small pearly earrings on, appreciating the way they glinted through her loose hair. But positive mood didn't last long. She gulped, trying to think of a way to approach Madara, as she looked into her reflection in the mirror.

It was now very late, and she didn't know if he went to sleep, but already knew she'd have no peace unless she does something to make things right between them again. So, she stood up and hurried to his bedroom.

"Yes?" She heard upon knocking, and let herself inside. Madara stood over his desk, sorting documents into a bag. Looking over his shoulder, he appeared irritated for a moment, but his gaze somewhat softened when he saw her. "What is it?" He asked, going back to what he was doing.

She sighed, and sat on the edge of his bed. He also seemed ready for bed, she noticed, taking her chance to allow her eyes a look at his bare arms before he turned around. He did very soon, leaning back against the desk as he faced her. She blinked, unable to keep her gaze from lingering on his upper body. Gulping, she forced herself to look away.

Maybe this wasn't the best time, she thought. But it is what it is. She could turn back and leave, although that would only make everything worse at this point.

Madara moved, and Mego looked up as he came closer. Her stomach fell, her heartbeat raced and she had to put an actual effort into controlling her breathing when he stopped right before her. Placing her hands on the bed for support, she hoped to at least look calm. She had to tilt her head back to be able to face him, feeling her chest tighten and her face burn at the sudden, absolutely inappropriate thought she got when his hips leveled with her face. If this was a proper marriage, she would—

He bent down, reaching behind her, and she watched him pick up his thin house coat, throwing it over himself. He sat beside her.

'You didn't tie it.' She wished to tell him, but that would mean letting him know she paid attention to the way it dropped shadows on the dips between his chest and abdomen muscles, making them appear even more prominent. She forced her eyes to stay glued to his face. Am I really thinking about this now? Yet another tired sigh escaped her.

"If you're going to speak, do."

His tone wasn't any warmer than before, and the proud part of her almost wanted to slap him for it. Could he not make it a little bit easier for her? She obviously came to soothe things out between them. Yet, just that day, he had done her a favor she could never hope to return. She couldn't let her pride make her forget that.

"I don't want to not talk to you…" She whispered. She watched him rest his elbows on his knees, and his head leaning into his palms.

"I know, Mego." He said gently, at last. "Me too." He looked up to face her. "I shouldn't have been that harsh. It's just… Never mind, I shouldn't burden you. You wouldn't understand, anyway." He shook his head, as if wanting to say he's done talking on that topic. "I saw you ate a lot today."

"I did. So much, I felt sick after." She heard him chuckle. "But I'm well now."

"You don't need to force yourself, that might make it worse. But three proper meals a day should be doable."

She nodded. His hand softly landed on her head.

"There, we made up." He smiled, standing up. "It's late, so—"

"You're my husband now." Mego got his attention once more as she spoke, resting her fingers on his wrist. "Whatever it is that troubles you, I want to know about it. I may not always be able to help, but I'll listen. And even if I don't get it, I'll be on your side."

Appearing taken aback, he remained quiet for some time. Nodding, he offered another small smile.

"I'll tell you tomorrow." His hand travelled to her cheek, then her chin, cupping it as she looked up at him. The crease between his brows deepened, as he frowned for some reason. His lips ticked like he meant to say something, but he was silent.

"Madara?" She called, so quietly, she had to wonder if he even heard it. Sighing, he let go of her and stepped away.

"Go to sleep."

"Can I sleep here?"

She blinked worriedly, as he raised an eyebrow in surprise. The question escaped her before she could decide against it.

"Where will I sleep?"

"W-Well, here, too…" Mego stuttered.

"You want to sleep with me?"

"Yes…" She heard herself whisper, almost immediately gasping when she realized how suggestive her incomplete answer sounded and how bewildered he appeared. "I m-mean, in the same room. I… I never liked sleeping alone."

Madara shrugged, looking at the floor for a few moments, appearing to be looking for proper words.

"No harm in it, I suppose." He went to remove his coat, and paused when it fell halfway down his arms, looking at her. Sighing, he put it back on. "Left or right?"

Bottom?

I need to cut back on reading those stories.

"Whichever."

"Alright." He went over to his desk and put out the candle, so the room was left completely dark, save a few rays of moonlight that came in through the window. She heard him go around the bed, the covers rustling when he got under them. "Are you coming?"

"Uh, y-yes."

Lying down, she turned her back to him, unable to decide whether his warmth made her feel better or worse. The bed wasn't exactly small, but it also wasn't intended for two. Unless those two planned to sleep really close.

"Are you uncomfortable? Please tell me if you are." She murmured.

"No, it's fine."

Shutting her eyes, Mego tried willing herself to sleep, but restless, embarrassing excitement wouldn't let her. Madara made an obvious effort to put at least some space between them. Still, every now and then his knee would touch the back of her leg, or his arm would graze her butt through her nightgown as he moved. Inappropriate visions in her head reached their peak, and when he turned around so his back faced hers, they were replaced by heavy, painful guilt.

If Madara knew what she thought, how angry would he feel? How betrayed? She recalled him shouting at her and wondered if he'd shout the same way if he could learn of her fantasies? Would he shout about Izuna, about her lack of love and shame, to think of Izuna's own brother like that?

This was a stupid idea, anyway. She wondered how he even got around to agreeing to it?

Somehow, after many, many minutes, however, she managed to drift away into shallow sleep. The bed moved, a pleasant weight landed on her waist, and soft breath tickled the back of her neck.

At last, she relaxed, leaning back into the heat.