Work Text:
“…you know he will object to this.”
“He objects to everything I say. I’ve grown used to his bullheadedness. It’s why I decided to talk to you first - maybe you can help him see reason.”
Sitting back, Itachi strokes a hand along his chin. The wheels of his custom-built contraption jostle slightly at the movement. “…is there no other way?”
“My son…I know you are resigned to your future. I cannot in good conscience offer you as a suitor given your limited capabilities. Best to plan ahead and simply…skip the inevitable. If we have Sasuke marry Hinata, he will step up into your place when…the time comes. That way, she will not be left a widower. We will have an Uchiha king to produce heirs, and ensure someone foreign-born does not inherit the throne entirely.”
Masking his distaste of his father’s opinions smoothly, the crown prince muses in silence for a time. “…I agree, it makes the most sense. But Sasuke clings to his freedom. He will not relinquish it so easily.”
“I know. It’s why this news best come from you - he hates you less than he hates me.”
“He does not hate you. It’s all a matter of circumstance.”
Fugaku huffs a humorless laugh. “…perhaps you are right. But either way, we need this alliance. We’ve money in our treasury, but no land - we swell at our borders. The Hyūga kingdom is sparsely populated. Integrating will help fill their coffers, and give our growing populace a place to thrive.”
“And what of Hiashi? Will he see this same reason, or refuse his heiress to a second born?”
“I’m to bring the offer to his attention in the coming week when he arrives. Surely the plan’s logic will appeal to him. He is also desperate for something to change. If nothing else, that may sway him.”
“…very well.” Hands finding his wheels, Itachi offers, “I will speak to Sasuke. But I make no guarantees, Father.”
Waving a weary hand, Fugaku merely replies, “Do what you can.”
Rolling from the man’s study, Itachi takes to the halls. Surely his little brother will be out of doors on a day like today. His first guess takes him to the archery range, and it’s there he finds Sasuke.
Drawing his bowstring, the younger prince takes a moment to aim before letting the bolt fly. It lands with a solid thwack against the target, up slightly and to the left of the bulls-eye.
“You still favor to the left.”
Turning at Itachi’s voice, Sasuke brightens. “I’m getting better at compensating. How did you get out here by yourself?”
“Pure will.” Folding his hands atop his lap, Itachi gives a soft smile. “…I wished to speak with you - I knew I’d find you here.”
Expression dulling, his brother gives a nod. “…I can tell already it’s not good news.”
“It depends on how you look at it.” After a pause, he sighs and offers, “…Father has found a match for you.” As Sasuke bristles, he holds up a hand, begging silence. “Please, let me finish before you go off. It’s a neighboring land. They’ve large borders, but little money. Father hopes the exchange of coin for veritable space will be profitable for us all. We can relieve our overcrowding, and the Hyūga will be able to repay several debts.”
“But you’re the eldest!”
“I am also dying, Sasuke.”
The blunt reply stutters him so hard, he takes half a step back. “That…that’s not -”
“It is unfair to offer a dying man as a husband. And Father knows it would lead to an outsider having full control of the throne. Best to have you take the role instead. You’re fitter, younger, and -”
“And unwilling,” the boy growls.
“Sasuke…” Itachi heaves a heavy breath. “…you know as well as I that neither of our lives have ever been our own. Since birth, they have belonged to our people. And this is how you can best serve them. Thousands are counting on you.”
“I never asked for this.”
“No one does.”
“…what about Shisui? He’s third in line.”
“And thus even less appealing for a first-born heiress than you,” Itachi replies dryly. “We’re already down on our offer, given my condition. I doubt Hiashi will make any further allowances.”
Pacing as an outlet for his temper, Sasuke scowls. “…did Father really not have the gall to tell me himself?”
“He knows well enough what you think of him. Thus he assumed it would be an easier blow, coming from me.”
“Tch.” The younger brother comes to a stop. “…am I even to meet her before this is all said and done?”
“I am not sure - Father said Hiashi is to visit in the coming week, but said nothing of whether the princess will accompany him.”
Running a hand back through his hair, Sasuke exhales a sigh. “…we both know you’d make a better king than I.”
“It would appear the gods have other plans.”
Worry colors Sasuke’s face. “…there has to be something…”
“Perhaps. But for now, we must prepare for the possibility.” Itachi reaches a hand, which Sasuke takes. “…this may be selfish of me, but…if nothing else, Sasuke…do this for me. I will not get this chance. I know it’s not what you want…but it’s what must be done. I will assist you for as long as I am able. But eventually…you must face this on your own.”
For a moment, something mists over Sasuke’s eyes, swallowing thickly. “…I’ll try.”
“That is all I can ask.”
For the next week, Sasuke avoids his father like a plague-ridden rat. Instead, he spends any free time with his brother: guiding his wheeled chair around the palace grounds.
“Do you know anything about her?”
“I’m afraid only what Father has told me. She is short of stature, but…” Itachi’s nose wrinkles. “…’well-filled’, as he put it. Long, dark hair; fair skin; pale eyes. Quiet, and unobtrusive. I have hopes you will get along.”
“So long as she’s quiet as you say,” Sasuke mumbles. He’s known his fair-share of loud, obnoxious young women.
When a white-painted carriage finds its way to the castle entrance, Sasuke spies from an upper window. Hiashi disembarks first, giving a rather stiff-looking greeting to his host. A few moments later, a second figure emerges. Palms smooth at a lilac-shade dress before folding at her front. A cascade of dark hair, highlighting amethyst in the sun, ripples as she walks.
She’s here.
Sighing and realizing there’s little avoiding it, he makes his way back down to the first floor. Itachi waits inside, turning as he approaches. “It would appear you’re in luck.”
“Am I?” Sasuke asks dryly.
Shooting his brother a look, there’s only a moment before Itachi turns his attentions to the opening doors. Smoothing his face into a welcoming smile, he bows as best he’s able in his chair. “Your majesty,” he greets Hiashi. “And princess Hinata. A pleasure to meet you at last.”
Eyeing the crown prince and his apparatus, Hiashi does little to hide his distaste…something that bristles his brother. “…indeed.”
“My sons,” Fugaku offers. “Itachi, and Sasuke.”
A nod. “It would seem they know already of my daughter, Hinata - her younger sister Hanabi elected to remain at home.”
Beside Hiashi, Hinata gives a small bow, expression somber.
Ever so slightly, Sasuke’s brow furrows. Glancing between father and daughter, it doesn’t take much for his keen eyes to notice their disparity.
“Now, I believe we’ve matters to discuss?” Hiashi addresses Fugaku.
“Yes…yes we do.” A pause - Hinata, apparently, has no other supervision beyond her father. “…shall we have the children join us?”
“I think not. They can remain here.”
Another hesitation - apparently Fugaku wasn’t expecting Hiashi to leave his daughter so unattended. “…very well. This way.” Giving his sons pointed looks, he guides his guest toward his study.
An awkward silence falls.
“…lady Hinata? Would you care to move to the rear gardens?”
Jumping slightly, as though not expecting to be addressed, Hinata blinks. “…I…would like that, yes.”
Nodding, Itachi looks to Sasuke, who takes to guiding his chair without a word. Together the trio leave through a second exit, finding themselves in the gardens. “I always prefer being out of doors,” the older brother muses. “The air is clearer, and the sun far more welcome than dreary halls.”
Another pause, then Hinata answers, “…I agree.”
Smiling at her pleasantly, he makes to speak again, but comes up short as a servant calls. “Your mother wishes to see you, my prince.”
Looking slightly confused, Itachi nonetheless starts back toward the door. “I will return shortly.”
The younger pair watch him go. Giving Sasuke a glance, Hinata can’t help but notice the worry upon his face. “…forgive me if this is…if this is too forward, but…”
“He’s been ill for several years now.”
The girl starts, clearly not expecting a reply.
Sasuke pays her no mind. “…he was fine as a child. But as he got older, he began to slow. Then his legs weakened, and he rarely stands now. There’s a fear he’ll not live much longer.”
Silence.
“…I…I see…”
“…so, as you might guess…he’s not the one Father intends to offer to you.”
“…I admit, I…had a feeling. So, then you…?”
Disquiet reaching a fever pitch, Sasuke takes to moving to alleviate it. He relocates to a bed of flowers, fiddling with a bloom absentmindedly. “…I apologize if it’s not what you intended. I…we didn’t mean to mislead you.”
Stepping up beside him, Hinata gazes at the blossoms. “I don’t feel misled. I’ve known for…a long time that I would be assigned a husband. I suppose then, in the end…it’s not of much difference to me who it is. I’ve no choice to begin with.”
Dark eyes move to their corners to glance at her. As before, a sad aura seems to coat her. She looks so…resigned. He’s seen the same look in his brother’s eyes: tied to a fate they never wanted.
Something clenches in his gut.
“…if it’s any comfort…I didn’t ask for this, either. But…” A pause, and he snaps the stem of the flower he’s been gripping. A hand tucks it behind her ear, feeling her stiffen. The action feels a little silly, but suitable nonetheless. “…I will do my best to make this work. As my brother says…it’s not just us we’ve got to worry about. At first he meant our people but…I suppose that means each other, too.”
Looking up to him in surprise, pale eyes widen, clearly not expecting his reaction. “…I…” Softening, she manages a small smile. “…then I…will give effort in equal measure.”
Giving a small lift of his lips in return, Sasuke can’t help but hope this might not be as bad as he’d feared. “…want to keep walking? There’s a lot more to see out here, and…something tells me we’ll be here a while.”
“I’d like that. My mother kept a large garden before she passed. Flowers are…dear to me that way.”
“…then consider these yours. My first gift to you.”
“But -?”
“I’ve no skill with plants anyway…I’m sure they’ll fare far better under your gentle hand.”
“…thank you.”