• Rated M for language and later content •

GLORY

Prologue

Three years ago, the Royal Uchiha Court sent out twenty-some heralds into the surrounding villages with a message. From various posts, armed with long, bronze trumpets and the uchiwa fan emblazoned on cloth and on horses, carriers of the decree ushered in members of the populace—merchants, tailors, maidens, impoverished alike—to tell of news.

News of a divorce.

This was met with varying degrees of both enthusiasm and despair—the royal couple of the Northern Uchiha Kingdom had decided on a matrimonial separation. And yes—this, a phrase many civilians had to pause and re-cycle through their heads—the Lord and Lady would be no more.

Divided into two, with one side heavily outweighing the other, the people of the land reacted in differing ways.

Some cackled snidely, celebrating and rejoicing and greatly embracing the fact that their beautiful, beautiful God of a Lord would no longer harbor that "harlot" and finally be rid of her. "Of course this would happen." Of course the Lord has finally understood that that wicked, disgusting, gold-digging wench had no place beside a man of such caliber with tastes far more extravagant and vastly than her. The damned whore. The damned little witch—"finally, she can go back to her no-body village and rule her dirty people!"

Perhaps she never satisfied him—"who would be satisfied with something as plain an eyesore as her?" Perhaps he grew bored and tired and perhaps she was a frigid woman—or too frivolous?—and her "lack of political prowess and control" did little to make up for it. A worthless, pathetic "Lady" she was.

Oh yes, with her gone, now was the opportune moment to show their God of a Lord just who was a better suited woman for him in all the ways that counted.

Ah, a minor percentage—angry and spiteful and loud as they may be—had thoughts that closely paralleled these.

The majority—mostly silent but with so much more numbers—believed in the opposite.

One man (who happened to be in town shopping for dinner when his pregnant wife could no longer bear walking with such a swollen belly) had gone home to break the news to her. She stared at him with eyes so blue and so lost, and he could do nothing but hold her as she wept—could do nothing but silently begin packing what little they owned and think about the next few carriages that could take them to a neighboring village.

An elderly woman carefully drew into her tea shop, fleetingly wondering whether she should stop a herald and ask to give the last of the Lady's favorite brews directly to her, or if she should begin the long process of moving in with her son's family in a faraway town.

Two young girls and a little boy stopped in their game of catch, clutching their worn ball between trembling hands and having to be told in slower words that Miss Uchiha could no longer visit and give them another new toy. This ball would be her last.

Their O Merciful—the Beloved Lady of the Northern Uchiha Kingdom—would take with her the beacon that she once created. The village's pillar of hope would leave.

This—this great majority felt the defeat reach corners of the soul. Exhaustion that ran bone-deep—once forgotten when the Lady wedded Lord Uchiha seven years prior—returned with such a vengeance, that some felt far too lost to even think about tomorrow.

Dramatic as it seemed, people such as them needed light when all they knew was harrowing sadness and tiredness and nothingness. Lord Uchiha was no demon, but he was no saint either. He was a neutral party.

But she...

She was the vast oasis in a place that looked like the desert on all four horizons.

Her betrothal and marriage to the Lord brought a whole of rain in the face of a drought. As His Highness handled matters overseas and stood with his Council, discussing peace talks and war efforts and cycling through torrents of national security and international affairs, Her Highness was at the forefront of domestic issues.

The Lady halved the impoverished population by increasing food supply; this, accomplished by carefully planning with village leaders on crops and calculating harvests for maximum yield. She got in touch with contacts from various lands, importing in plants that could be grown in spring, and plants for fall - food would be available all year. Under her instruction, the village that once held a mere three total house doctors now had over fifteen true apothecaries, plus two small, functioning clinics. Schools were built, shelters erected.

She brought together the village under organized events, sending royal couriers to the four corners of the town for planning festivals and celebrations. The children had a Christmas and the adults had their holidays to spend with families and their elderly and their relatives near and far.

Where the Lord was the mighty shield and sword, the Lady was the cornucopia, the hearth of a fireplace.

Yes, dramatic as it seemed, the light these people needed took the form of this woman.

Every definition of a true ruler, a true mother of her people and a true Queen of the royal court, spelled out her name. It was this that the majority held onto for dear life and forgot their many woes, their bone-deep exhaustion and their tear-streaked faces.

Lord Uchiha was a passive man concerned with fortifying defense and handling affairs. But it was she who showed mercy. They were the perfect court to their people, the perfect independent halves of a dependent whole.

During the few occasions when the Royal Couple decided to make appearances through town—may it be to ride carriages to various balls or to attend affairs or simply to send rallying phrases and give speeches about the Will of Fire—the reclusive Lady would be there. Alongside her husband, either sitting pleasantly by him, standing behind him, or with her small, dainty hand coveted in the inner curve of the Lord's elbow, the people stared in awe at their King and their Queen.

Past the film of delicacy, grace, and patience sat a long-drawn steele of regale, intellect, and warmth. She was true. Sincere. The epitome of what divine beings could bless the earth with.

This—

Oh yes, this—

—all of which Lord Uchiha cared naught.

The man had other "matters" to tend to alongside all of the nitty-gritty, heavy-handed politics.

It was a known fact that the Northern Uchiha Kingdom's Lord had a harem of a dozen concubines and as of late, one particular woman birthed an affair with him. Highly entangled in a brazen, passionate, red-stained storm of lust and love and everything in between, Lord Uchiha spent night after night at his Mistress' side. Part of the reason for divorce was her. The temptation of secrecy persuaded him.

Mistress Karin persuaded him.

Hot and sexual and sensual and everything that the Lady could not give him, could not be for him. He spent late, greedy hours tangled in the sheets of a chamber in an opposite wing from his shared quarters with his wife. Time whisked away when heavy breaths and grunts and groans of their lovemaking stole minutes and hours from him.

Lady Uchiha was not stupid.

The tears stopped long, long before anyone could possibly notice. She'd been sleeping in a bed half cold; it didn't take a genius to know where he ran off to.

So when he spoke that one fateful night a little over four years ago, she knew exactly what he would propose.

He, sitting across from her in their lonesome, large dining room and accompanied by few standby servants and maids, sawed his meat into fourths and fifths with his steak-knife using all the masculine grace he possessed. Lord Uchiha hadn't even bothered to glance up when he chose to deliver the true, killing blow to the remains of their sham of a marriage.

"You have seven days to vacate the castle and return to your kingdom," he'd said between sips of red wine. 'Divorce' didn't even need to be mentioned. Nothing else needed to be mentioned, for zero room allowed it. Neither remorseful nor cold, simply indifferent—he'd done it as if he were merely commenting on the weather.

When she didn't respond for some time—not a single peep—he looked up.

She regarded him with those same, professionally-set viridian eyes. Those gorgeous, gleaming twin shades of forestry peered at him as if she were speaking to a diplomat. Not her husband. Admittedly, he felt somewhat surprised to be at the receiving end of a look she usually reserved for royal affairs. Unable to glance away, he remained still as she stared at him like he were another man of politics and she had a deal to close.

Offhandedly, he realized he couldn't read her.

The straight line of her shoulders stayed unmoving for several moments until she broke posture to grip her own wine glass. Putting it up to him in gesture of a toast—the smile on her lips somehow sardonic—her mouth finally parted and outed a mere six words with an indifference that rivaled his.

"I can do it in two."

Young children who read one too many fairytales, and young maidens too hopeful for their own good, believed that marriage was a holy event—the gods bore witness to the true bond of two people in love and blessed it with their own hands, promising them to each other until "death did them part." Their connection was deemed unbreakable and uncompromising with fortitude that rivaled the very earth they stood on. At the heart of a marriage also lied trust, commitment, and the ability to share.

This included the intangible things such as love, space, time, thoughts, happiness—and yes—also the tangible. Sharing belongings, food, shelter, money. Sometimes even power. When one was a noble—a member of the royal class—marriage almost always included power.

In this sense then, love came second. Sometimes third. Fifth. Tenth. Thirtieth. Last.

Sometimes even never.

Sometimes love simply had no room in this equation.

This was something that Lady Uchiha—no, Lady Haruno—pondered absently two days following that particular dinner, beside a line of carriages that stood parallel to the road leading away from the Uchiha castle. This thought festered quietly in the back of her head as she peered through the lace fringe of her periwinkle Victorian hat, surveying the servants moving her belongings around.

As a matter of fact, she offhandedly thought. Love hadn't made an appearance at all.

Tucking away a stray lock of carnation hair, she barely threw a glance sideways before returning her eyes at the forefront of her head.

"You're a busy man," she mused softly, unbothered when he hardly regarded her. "You've no real reason to be here when you have important matters to attend to."

"You are an important matter," he replied, and she silently cursed the gentle thrum of her heartbeat at his words. "Divorcing changes things."

She resisted the urge to sigh. Of course he'd be here for that. Of course he was there for that.

"I've already spoken to our—your—lawmen and the pastors and the Council." She gazed at a boy struggling with a heavier set of luggage, valiantly rescued by another servant, and together they helped load the big box. "Our marriage is annulled and all that is yours is yours except what you have given me."

It felt little more than defeat when she absently tasted the words she spoke. It felt like she was giving up and giving in and it was an ugly feeling.

But did it hurt as much as this?

Love hadn't made an appearance at all, she recounted in the safety of her head, on his end. On mine...—

"Good."

Pursing her lips in a manner she was sure he wouldn't see, she folded her hands together at her lower abdomen, thoughtfully brushing her fingers against the smooth periwinkle cloth adorning her body. Nonchalance grew both increasingly harder and increasingly easier when done before him.

But before she left she had to know. She had to know that—

"Sasuke," she called oh-so softly, voice barely above a whisper.

He froze instantaneously, for she never called him by his lone first name unless they were in their chambers together, alone and only in eachother's company. If she noticed his stillness, she commented naught of it, too engrossed in her personal surprise at daringly calling him by his given name so suddenly.

He sucked in air subtly, firmly reminded of who he was speaking to—of the history they shared.

The day he'd gained her hand, under the scrutinizing stare of the Uchiha Council, did two sixteen-year-old strangers exchange meaningless, binding vows. This would tie her kingdom to his. And though at twenty-five, they were supposed to achieve Duke and Duchess titles at the hands of their combined Council in a show of unrelenting power, their marriage ended two years short. Seven total years made up their history together. Nine would've seen the both of them at a joined coronation and crowning.

Seven years. Gone.

Now they'd achieve the titles separately. Her, with her kingdom. Him, here, with Karin beside him.

She spoke again and his derailed thoughts returned on-course.

"...Promise me. That you will... this village..."

Yes. Yes, that.

—the village was in good hands.

Karin would have no problem taking over. He knew how much Sakura did for the town when he was away. He understood this.

But it would work out. The stars aligned in their favor. The village...

"The village will be fine," he murmured. "Karin is capable."

She stiffened just the slightest bit, so minutely that she was sure he hadn't noticed. Hearing the Mistress' name proved to still be as poisonous to her blood as the day she first discovered what her husband was doing late at night every night. She forced a nod.

"I see."

Four of the five carriages began moving, the wheels creaking due to great usage. Hooves clattered and the crack of a whip thundered through the air, forcing eight total horses on their way down the long road away from the town. When the final approaching carriage halted before her and the coach scrambled to get down, Lord Uchiha stopped him with a gesture of his hand. Rather, he pulled open the carriage door himself. An action that he figured would be the last of its kind—that would complete this chapter in both their lives.

Glancing diagonally down his side, he was unsurprised to see she denied him any glimpse of her face. The lip of her great feathered hat casted some shadow over the length of her face, only the two pretty pink petals of her mouth detectable in the mid-noon sun. He regarded this with little care, instead accepting the act of protection as the beginning of their final moments.

Should they ever meet again after this, it'd be as diplomats. As opposite parties in a royal, political plane.

Perhaps in due time, he could potentially reach out to Senju castle again, prod around to see if he could find permanent allyship (like with Namikaze Castle) in the reclusive final kingdom of Fire Country. Surely it'd be beneficial in war-time. Perhaps—

"Your Highness," she murmured quietly, and he noted the distant tone her voice carried, paired with the lack of his given name. Their final chapter drew rapidly to a close.

Offering one hand—of which she took not unkindly but not familiarly—he helped her up the high step of the carriage until she was seated. Before letting go, he went with the low instinct bellied in his gut and settled a final, cold kiss upon the gentle grooves of her knuckles. The touch was brief and not unlike usual greetings in a formal setting.

"Safe travels," he muttered, glancing at her with newfound resolve to regard her in a different light. Now that she wasn't his wife. "We will keep in touch, Lady Haruno."

Silently and for some time, she'd deny how painfully sharp the surname change was for the oncoming days, especially at the way he'd thrown it directly in her face. But she'd grow thankful for it after a few months. And in about a year, she'd forget the tumultuous state her heart was in.

"Of course, Lord Uchiha."

Guess who's back? After like, hundreds of years—

Ah, and before anything else may be said. Yes, I use em dashes a whole lot (personally love how it breaks up a story and adds informal elements). And yes, this is an AU, therefore all the family ties and kingdom set ups and whatnot isn't what it's supposed to be.

The beauty of fiction.

But there will be some scenes that'll closely parallel/mimic canon, which will be fun. A lot of this story is already outlined and simply needs to be fleshed out—so yes, I know the ending. Very little will cause me to change anything I've planned out. This WILL see its end and will not be abandoned like my other stories (which are for the most part, lacking inspiration but will find an end somehow).

This is MultiSaku and there will be fighting, Powerful!Sakura (but surely not "Perfect!Sakura"), and mature scenes/themes. I do ask you keep a pretty open mind, considering the setting of the story.

I know the climate of the fandom has changed and people can be mean and nit-picky now. But I'm doing this all in good fun and I hope you enjoy.

I love you guys. Thank you (:

- burrblefish