Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
A/N: This chapter is super long, and it explains what happened to the previous Earl before Hisao. I know some people don't like OC's, but their roles in this story are short. Also, I'd like to mention that when imagining my OC, I thought of Ragnar from Vikings because I love him. Even when he is a big whore. I recommend listening to the show's second season soundtrack while reading this! It's super badass and sets the mood.
-O-
The moon is at its highest in the night sky when Sakura nestles into the furs and quilt on her bed; but it is long after that when her worries lull her to sleep. She dreams of crows pecking the eyes of warriors under a blood moon, of foxes frolicking in meadows and wolves howling mournfully in the midst of tombs. She dreams of ships capsizing in a grand sea dyed red, and she starts awake to a hand hovering above her head.
Her hand quickly grasps the blade from under her pillow and holds it over the thin skin under the offender's beard, panting and licking sweat from her lips. Sakura's wild eyes flicker around the room then find those of the man poised above her with his hands open by his side.
She lowers her blade when she recognizes him to be Jirou, the eldest son of the butcher. He smiles apologetically at her, his once charming grin marred by a missing tooth, and then brings his finger to his lips in the universal sign for silence.
"Come, Sakura," he whispers by her ear as he helps her stand, "There is much to discuss, your sister has already been awoken."
Sakura resists the urge to ask questions, instead trusting her own gut instinct and feeling the importance of the situation in the air. She dresses quickly and quietly makes her way through the cold home until she finds Aya.
Aya meets her own questioning expression with a lifted brow and a shrug, all the while braiding her unbound hair while the woman sent to wake her laces her boots. Sakura gingerly hugs Aya and her dearest friend tenderly squeezes back in return.
It is the most life she has seen in her since the day in the woods where she had broken down and cursed the Gods. Sakura bites the inside of her cheek when they part and watches Jirou speak silently to Aya as she straps her sword to her leather belt.
She welcomes the change; as even confusion and muted interest is better than despair. The blonde woman walks towards her silently and takes caution to avoid creaky floor boards. Her tunic is wrinkled, her leather bodice armored with whalebone and steel, and she looks as though she is ready for battle. Aya's eyes rake down her form and Sakura knows she looks the same.
"Do you know what is happening?" Aya asks in a soft dulcet and Sakura shakes her head. Her friend's lips thin into a grim line and her eyes glance towards Jirou who waits for them.
"He said there is a meeting in the Old Woods between the clan leaders," and her voice lowers gravely, "Only those that remain loyal to Ryuu shall be there."
Sakura sucks a harsh breath through her nose, and feels it strike her heart as it opens old wounds. Aya's eyes pity her, so she pivots on the heel of her foot and quickly makes her way outside. Jirou and the others follow close behind her until they are far deep into the woods that surround their settlement.
The blossomed haired woman grinds her teeth and wills the traitorous tears brimming her eyes to disappear. And yet her heart does more weeping than her eyes ever could.
-O-
Ryuu had been the previous Earl to their settlement; he had been kind, he had been fair, he had ruled honorably, and he had been the only man Sakura had ever loved.
She steps over foliage and fallen logs as they transverse deeper into the woods until they cannot see the lights from their homes—until all they hear are the songs of crickets and the calls of owls. Soon, they come upon a large gathering standing before a fire, each person sending her sympathetic looks and she finds that she can't take it.
Sakura finds the tree farthest from the gathering, leans against it, and presses the heels of her hands into her eyes as she releases a shuddering breath. It has been years, and still the wound feels fresh. Ryuu was the Earl after their previous corrupt Earl Michio, and had ascended to power through a challenge by combat. She had watched from the sidelines as he—always the better warrior—had bested the older man. She watched as he thrusted his blade and disemboweled Michio, watched as he wiped the entrails from his face and smiled victoriously through bloodstained teeth.
She remembers how he had allowed Michio's widow to be burned with him, how the woman had screamed and cried for her husband even as her flesh melted from her bones. She remembers how Ryuu had watched the entire thing unflinchingly with striking blue eyes until the end, how she had done the same.
But what she remembers most is later finding him standing by the charred pyre, gazing somberly into the dying embers. Night had since fallen, and the glow of the torch set by his side had bathed his features in an ethereal glow. She had been struck then by how handsome he was, and though she had always been attracted to him, his power had always held more appeal.
Ryuu was strong, Ryuu was steadfast, Ryuu was invincible. But he was also human, and Sakura realized this as she watched from hooded eyes as he tilted his head back to offer a prayer for Michio and his wife. When he stood and turned, his braided hair swinging behind him, his brows had lifted at seeing her. She only bowed her head in respect and then made her way to the pyre to offer her own prayers, trying hard to ignore his lingering presence behind her.
When she was done, she was surprised to find him still watching her curiously with a small smirk. She remembers fighting the flush running its course up her neck, and averting her eyes shyly. She had only been 21 years old then—virginal and naive—whereas Ryuu was four years her senior and experienced. Sakura grit her teeth as she felt his eyes run down her form, her previous shyness forgotten in the face of such unabashed leering. She may have been inexperienced in the way Ryuu was, but she was not some piece of meat to be ogled. Her temper reared its ugly head when a lascivious grin curled his lips and she was faced with his ever present arrogance.
"Sakura," her name rolled like wine off his tongue and she discreetly rolled her eyes, "What brings you to these parts?"
She gave him the most dumbfounded look, as it was obvious by her prior actions that she had come to pay her respects—for Michio's widow, of course. Did he think her vapid? Sakura crossed her arms over her chest, clearly unimpressed, and her jaw clenched as he began to chuckle. Was he mocking her?!
"Of course, of course," he drawled good naturedly as he began to slowly circle her still form, "You are not stupid, you never were."
He came to a stop behind her, and she was so hyper aware of his presence that she resisted the overwhelming urge to step away. The toes curled in her boots belied her nervousness and excitement at being so near to him, but her outward expression gave little indication of how much he affected her.
"Do not mock me, Ryuu," there was a clear warning in her low voice, and she nearly jumped when he placed his large hands on her shoulders.
"Now, Sakura, why would I dare mock such a fierce warrior as yourself? I hope you know that I hold you in such high regards."
His breath ghosted over the shell of her ear and a pleasant shiver ran down her spine. He was right, she wasn't stupid, so she knew very well what his intentions with her were—what he meant to do by showering her with praise.
She therefore stepped away from him, because she was not stupid, and she would not fall prey to his charms. When she had been younger and more prone to chasing after foolish boys, perhaps she would have willingly played along. Ryuu's charming words held truth, however, as Sakura was highly respected amongst her people for being an incredible warrior; but she was surprised that Ryuu had even noticed. She had always endeavored to fight far away from him, as she found him too much of a distraction during a fight. He was all fluid sinew and grace, his movements strong and beautiful. While she...she was brutish, barbaric, and graced with unnatural strength. But whenever she fought near him, her eyes always had strayed to his amazing skill and focused entirely on him and him alone.
Needless to say, being near him was not wholly beneficial to her survival on the battlefield.
But one day, when she had been 17, Ryuu's younger brother had died on the battlefield. She, by chance, saw Ryuu's anguished face at seeing the blade through his brother's chest, saw him falter when the light in his eyes faded forever, and saw an enemy fighter take advantage of his distraction. She had been across the field, the enemy too close to Ryuu, and he too focused on cradling the broken body of his kin.
But her heart had cried out for his safety—for his survival—so fiercely that one moment she was sprinting towards him—dodging blades and bodies as she went—and the next moment she was slamming her fist into the back of the enemy's head.
She hadn't known how she'd moved so quickly at the time, but she had continued defending Ryuu until he stood with an angry roar and began to cut down everyone in his way with swords held in both hands. Sakura watched him cut a bloody path in the enemy ranks farther and farther away from her until she could see him no longer.
She continued to fight until there was no one left, and when she was alone, she searched for the body of the man who had tried to kill Ryuu. And her jaw had dropped, because the man should have been knocked unconscious, but instead she found him decapitated, the tissue and muscle in his neck looking as though his head had been ripped from his shoulders. She stared at the gruesome corpse, then stared at her shaking hands, and for a moment she was afraid of herself.
But then Ryuu had rushed back to his brother's corpse and she—and her fear—was swallowed in the crowd that followed. Sakura was sure he was not aware that she had saved his life.
And she was sure that her attraction to him ran deeper than she would have liked to admit.
But that was then, and now he had moved to stand before her, his arms crossed to mirror her own. There was still a smirk present on his handsome face and she once again rolled her eyes at his arrogance.
"And?" She snapped, annoyed at his blatant staring, "Is there something you need from me?"
At this, Ryuu raised both eyebrows in mock surprise and his lips curled into a large smile as he stepped back.
"Why, Sakura, do not be so hostile," he said jubilantly, "I am merely informing you that you are widely respected by many, including myself!"
Sakura's petal pink brow lifted in bemusement, her mouth down turning into a cautious line. She couldn't tell if he was being genuine, and perhaps Ryuu had noticed that, because he then shoved his hands into his pockets as his grin faded.
"Nonetheless, I ask why you have come to offer Michio peace when you so obviously detested his existence?"
"Michio?" Sakura scoffed, "No, I prayed to the Gods for his widow's peace. Emiko was a kind woman and it is a shame she loved such a mongrel."
She started when Ryuu's smooth laughter met her ears, he shaking his head in amusement.
"Of course! The widow! Yes, I prayed for her as well," he drawled, "But I also asked the Gods for Michio's safe passage into their Kingdom because he had died honorably in battle."
"Well, yes, that too..." Sakura mumbled under her breath and began to walk past him, tired of such nonsensical chatter...even if it was with a man she wanted. She was surprised when he stepped in front of her with a new smile pulling his lips.
"Now Sakura," he began, his words smooth and velvety, "because I respect you so, would you drink wine with me to celebrate the widow's life?"
Sakura, of course, could not refuse the Earl, so she found herself giddy and heady with wine a few hours later, telling stories of battles won and friends lost while lounging around the fire. Ryuu listened intently and told his own stories, but when he mentioned a guardian the Gods had sent to watch over him when his brother died—who had protected him from harm—Sakura could only smile softly at his ignorance.
At some point throughout the night, they found themselves draped across the furs on his bed, humming songs and giggling softly. She was floating on air in the presence of such a contradiction of a man. Ryuu who was all deadly power, Ryuu who was kind and capable of many things. She felt him trace his fingers down the scars of her arm, and puzzled over the frown on his face.
"A woman as beautiful as you should not bear these scars," he murmured solemnly.
Sakura, emboldened by the wine in her blood, lifted a finger to trace the dark vines tattooed onto the shaved sides of his head. The dark blonde stubble tickled her fingers, but she was pleasantly surprised to note their soft texture.
"A man as handsome as you should not have gotten these on your head," she intoned, "Mine are not as visible."
Confused, Ryu's brow furrowed. But he did not move away from her tracing fingers, nor did he remove his own intense gaze from the myriad of scars painting her arm.
"Why not?" He asked quietly, "They are my mark of a warrior."
"And these are mine."
His hand paused in their tracing and his eyes—bluer than the sky and deeper than the sea—focused so intensely on her face that it almost took her breath away. But wine made men weak and women bold, so she traced her fingers down the sides of his well-kept beard. She felt the course hairs and then his smooth skin, felt the muscles in his jaw twitch when her fingers curled beneath his jaw and her thumb brushed over his full bottom lip.
They were soft and she followed her thumb's movement with her eyes, unaware that they had crossed into territory that was wholly unfamiliar to her. Sakura's breath seized in her throat when Ryuu's lips parted to suck on her thumb, his eyes watching her, and a fire burning low in her belly.
She must have made a noise in her surprise—a mewl, a moan, something—because the next thing she knew, Ryuu was on top of her, his lips covering her own heatedly, and she was uncaring of all prior objections. She tasted the wine on his tongue, smelled it on her skin wherever he kissed and licked her.
Soon they were a tangle of limbs and discarded clothing, her skirts pulled over her head and casted away. His hands roamed every inch of her and his mouth followed their path. She remembers clenching his strong set of shoulders as he left spots of blazing fire on her skin; she remembers his fingers parting her most intimate of places and losing herself in feelings she had never known.
Sakura lost herself in him—in the sensation of feeling full and complete—and she loved him.
She loved him by the glow of the fire, she loved him on the furs near his bed, she loved him and pretended he loved her too.
And so their relationship continued as such: she would meet him and love him until they both fell from their perch in the clouds, and she would pretend that he loved her in return. This continued on for quite a while: Sakura pretending that Ryuu held her in his heart, and he exploring her previously untouched body.
Until one day, when she was 22, Ryuu asked her to rule eternally at his side. His expression was adoring and hopeful as he asked her to become his wife, bear his children, and be the only woman he would ever have; and Sakura knew then that she had never needed to pretend.
He had been the one to tell her what her strange power was, and he had been the only other of her kind that could use chakra. Ryuu had kept her secret, had loved her and taught her how to wield it even as he knew the severity of their actions.
But before they could get married, before she could continue her wonderful life with this man she so fiercely loved, Hisao had appeared.
Her love, her life, her dreams were destroyed because of one gutless man.
Hisao had somehow poisoned Ryuu's food and drink, had been poisoning him since he appeared in the village, and had been poisoning others as well to make it seem like a plague. And Sakura, Ryuu's dear love, could do nothing about it when it was discovered. Because while she could heal, she did not know how to extract poison from the body. Her methods of healing were barbaric, unrefined, and too unskilled for something so delicate. So she watched her lover become sick, watched a once beautifully strong man become wan and a shell of his former self. And she could do nothing but sit by his side, clean his messes and attempt to feed him.
Until the one day he barely had strength to lift his withering hand to caress the soft skin of her cheek, and she lifted it to hold it there for the first time.
And he told her to kill him.
She pulled back in abject horror, shocked that he would ask her to do such an awful thing, and she shook her head mutely as he begged her to reconsider.
"I am dying," Ryuu had said, "I do not want to die like this, Sakura. I want a warrior's death; I want to be with my brother."
Because their people believed that those who died in battle would dine with the Gods and live in eternal happiness. That they—the most courageous of warriors—would be the ones to save the world once the time for Armageddon came. And Sakura knew then what she had to do.
There was an impending raid the next day where they would invade a neighboring settlement that had challenged their own. It was an opportunity to fulfill Ryuu's last request, and she would go with him to see it through. Yes, she would fight at his side for one final time. So she had kissed his lips with tears in her eyes, and promised him that he would see his brother again.
That night, Aya held her as she wept and wailed to the Heaven's.
The next day, they had set out at a snail's pace to accommodate her dying lover and reached the dimly lit rival settlement at dusk. They sent out messengers to warn the Earl that they would meet him in battle in a clearing close by, and they had returned one man short and a clear message.
I accept your challenge, and yours is the first death.
They met at the clearing at dawn, two rival forces staring each other down in palpable hatred. Sakura held Ryuu's thin hand in her own as she watched mere boys tremble at the sight of them. There was a war cry from somewhere behind her and the next thing she knew they were charging.
She fought by Ryuu's side for a long while, slowly feeling fatigue settle into her body, when they were separated by two men who drove her farther and farther away from him. She fought with newfound desperation, her eyes glued to his tiring form the entire time. Sakura watched from afar as an arrow struck through him, watched him fall to his knees and take a rattling breath.
And she watched Hisao catch him as he fell, cradle him, and lower him to the blood soaked grass.
She watched him plunge a blade through Ryuu's heart.
There was a stillness, and then there was a loud noise in the air, an agonized keening that drowned out everything else; and it took Sakura a moment to realize that it was the sound of her screams. She punched through men, heedless of how limbs and chest cavities exploded at her touch, to make her way to him.
She kicked Hisao out of the way, but when she bent down to touch Ryuu, she found herself staring into eyes devoid of all life. Her voice caught in her throat, her hands shaking and stuttering as she reached to touch his beautiful face, and her features twisted in anguish. Sobs and sorrowful denials spilled from her lips; never before had she felt such loss and grief and it felt like blades piercing through her chest. She was oblivious to the danger around her as she cried out in woe, her descent into hysterics becoming clear. Sakura clumsily reached for Ryuu's hand and pressed it to her face; it was still warm, but rapidly cooling.
She rocked back and forth, crying his name over and over again, until someone forcibly ripped her away from her lover's corpse. Screaming, she turned around to lash out at whoever dared to separate her from him, but found herself staring into Aya's fearful eyes. Her blonde friend shook her, shouted at her to get herself together, for there was still a battle raging around them. With one last shake, she reminded her that Ryuu would have not wanted her to die by his side.
But Sakura had wanted him to die by hers, had wanted to be the last person he saw before he joined his brother and the Gods.
And so she choked down her sobs, her grief, and was merciless until she stood alone among corpses. Only then, did she allow herself to stumble back to Ryuu's body and clutch him to her bloodstained chest.
But her misery did not end there.
For when they returned back to their settlement, she carrying Ryuu's broken body in her arms, Hisao announced to all those present that he would be the new Earl. And she had stood frozen, her love's rotting corpse in her arms, as those loyal to Hisao confirmed that he had been the one to bid Ryuu farewell into the afterlife. Her heart's beating was thunderous in her ears as he then relayed tales of deceit and treachery in Ryuu's name, glorifying his own position and tarnishing his memory.
She stood rooted to her spot as the people cried out in anger, demanding that his body be fed to the pigs, and she growled like a feral wolf when those brave enough attempted to take him from her. But then Hisao calmed the crowd, and then declared that Ryuu's body would be laid to rot in the Old Woods without a funeral or prayer.
Fury and horror filled her heart and widened her eyes at his order, as it surely meant that Ryuu would never be able to be with his brother if they didn't offer his soul peace and follow the proper procedures. In her moment of shock, Ryuu's body was ripped from her weakening arms, and she was pulled away from him even as she fought and screamed.
She screamed his name, watched as Aya was also subdued, and then the both of them were knocked unconscious. The last thing she saw before her eyes shut was her love's body being spit on and desecrated.
When she awoke, she was lying in a puddle by the stables while her sister silently combed mud from her dirty blonde hair. And once again, Aya held her as she quietly wept—her sorrow muted by the drizzle and thunder of an oncoming storm.
Sakura never saw Ryuu again.