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Gaara of the Desert, King of the Kingdom of the Sand, had never once stepped foot into the Land of Leaves. Their lands had been at odds for generations, and though they had not been at war since before he had been born, it had never been safe nor necessary. His trip to the capital Konoha would be historical and would be a great show to the relationship that the two lands had struggled to build.
The road to Konoha felt like it came from a storybook. He watched as the sand started to speckle with heavy stones– scraggly plants that struggled to survive in the harsh desert heat thickened and grew, sprouting branches and bright green leaves. The plants grew taller and taller until they towered over his head, filling the sky with heavy arching foliage. Even below his feet, soft grass and moss covered the earth in sheets of green speckled with soft, colorful flora. Gaara had never seen so much life in all his years. He struggled to not reach out and touch every leaf he saw, feel their waxy undersides just to ensure it was real and not a desert mirage.
The forests of the Land of Leaves finally allowed Gaara to understand his husband’s strange green clothing, all along it was the same form of camouflage the people of Sand used. Only it was now Gaara and his people who stood out in their soft whites and dull beiges. He watched as Lee joyfully ran ahead of the slow-moving caravan of people of the Sand, Gaara easily losing him amongst the trees. The last thing he could spot was a flash of red before his husband disappeared completely, running free until he decided to return again.
The sight of the thin red ribbon tied securely around his husband’s pinky finger was more breathtaking than any flower he had seen in the Land of Leaves. It reminded him of the true reason they made the slow journey away from his homeland. There was to be a wedding in Konoha. It was said to be the biggest wedding the land had ever seen.
In three days' time, the King of the Sand would marry Rock Lee of the Leaves in the way of his people so that all may see the strength of the union of Sand and Leaves.
That was the official proclamation. In truth, Gaara asked Lee if he would marry him again because he thought there was a possibility it might make his husband smile.
*
He remembered, at the start of it all, how he sat in his office filling out forms as though it was any other day.
It was the day he was to be wed but he knew, as all of Suna knew it was a wedding for the sake of unity. He cared little that he would be married, it was what he must do to ensure the safety of his people and he did it without question. If he felt anything, it was pity for the poor stranger from the Land of Leaves who had been forced away from their home to be given to him, the Beast King of the Sand. He thought a year in Suna would be enough for the show of faith before he would allow his spouse to return home, free from their chains of this marriage.
To think, he had been foolish for believing this.
Just before the sun reached its peak, Temari had come to him alone and Gaara wondered if the Land of Leaves had turned their back on their promise, or more likely, there had been no one who would be forced into marrying a monster. But she looked at him with a gleam in her eyes and a half-smile.
“The people of Leaves do not marry the way we do. I had to explain to your soon-to-be husband our ways and he insisted the wedding be traditional.”
Temari had grinned in an exasperated way Gaara would soon become familiar with.
“He is waiting for you in the desert.”
Gaara had been bewildered and remained that way ever since. There was no one in the world more bewildering than Rock Lee of the Land of Leaves.
At some point between a warmth finding its way into his chest at the sight of his husband’s smile and his curse being broken, Gaara remembered his sister’s words and searched for her.
“Temari, what did you mean that the people of Leaves do not marry in the way we do?” he had asked.
She had blinked, startled at the non-sequitur, only to peer at him curiously.
“They have big ceremonies,” she said. “They invite everyone they know to act as witnesses, and they make public vows of love. Afterward, there is a large party, with dancing and drinking and gifts. Lee said there was a lot of ceremony involved, flowers, string, and rice but I cannot remember it all. Why do you ask?”
Gaara could only offer her an evasive shrug. He was not sure why it seemed so important, but it held a place in the back of his mind, creeping into his thoughts when he least expected it, like when Lee laughed or even when he was alone in his office but his hand felt empty holding his pen.
“You should ask Lee if you want to know more.”
“I may,” Gaara said, though he knew he would not.
A public wedding. It felt wrong for such an intimate time to be shared with others, voyeuristic, vulgar. But he understood Lee more knowing this. It explained how Lee showered him with affection no matter who was there to see. How he proclaimed his love without a waver in his voice. Lee had given him his vow on their wedding day, Gaara realized, to be faithful and to love. He wondered if that was a traditional vow to make or one just for him.
He wondered why it mattered.
He wondered, and wondered, and wondered and then one night he whispered words he had never said before and understood.
Gaara found understanding did not necessarily make things easier.
Still, his husband found ways to simplify his life without trying, even with this.
Lee had joined Gaara on the rooftop under the moon that night. Gaara found himself cradled against his husband’s chest, Lee’s chin resting on his shoulder as he twined and untwined their hands together. Gaara could tell Lee wished to speak but was holding himself back by the way he would take in a deep breath only to slowly let it out in a sigh once again. He knew when his husband would go quiet it was for his sake. He appreciated it but Gaara was curious as Lee unwound their hands and played with Gaara’s pinky finger for what must have been the dozenth time that night.
“Lee,” Gaara said. “Is there something wrong?”
“Of course not,” Lee said quickly interlocking their hands again.
Gaara frowned. He did not think Lee was one for hiding truths – he had thought once Lee was unable to lie at all before remembering that he was still a warrior no matter how kind his smiles were. Yet, the thought of Lee hiding something that made him unhappy made his chest ache with sudden fear. Gaara broke Lee’s hold and twisted around to face his husband. Lee’s smile was weak and his face red, and Gaara had no idea what it could mean. Still so bewildering after all this time.
“You would tell me if something was troubling you, would you not?” Gaara said.
The concern he was attempting to hide must have bled through because Lee’s eyes widened and he quickly grabbed his hands again.
“Oh no, my love. Of course, I would tell you. I promise you nothing is wrong. It is just a silly thought that will not leave my mind.”
Gaara felt the tightness in his chest relax and immediately felt foolish it was ever there. Love was much stranger than Gaara thought it would be. He wondered if everyone else was as confused as he was each time his heart thumped irregularly.
“Will you tell me?”
His husband smiled sheepishly and began to stroke Gaara’s pinky finger again.
“It is just, I realized I never got to see you with a ribbon on your finger and I cannot stop thinking about it.”
Gaara only scowled in confusion. It reminded him of their earlier council meetings, where it was as though they were speaking two different languages though each word made sense. Lee must have recognized the scowl because he grinned apologetically.
“It is a part of the engagement. There is a legend from where I am from that people who are meant to be together are connected by a red string that is tied on their smallest finger. The string can twist and lengthen and knot, but it will never break. Those who are connected will always find each other. So, it is tradition to tie a red ribbon around your intended’s pinky to show that you have found your match and they wear it until the day of the wedding.”
Gaara watched as Lee explained, starry-eyed and cheeks flushed. Of course, his husband would love such a story. There was nothing more romantic than soulmates.
“And that is how it is done in the Land of Leaves?”
“It is not. My parents were not from the Land of Leaves originally and they brought this tradition from their homeland. I do not remember many of the things my parents told me before they passed but that story is one I have always carried.”
Lee suddenly laughed sheepishly.
“I used to dislike the legend. I do not appreciate the idea of destiny making choices for me. But if destiny would ensure we would always find each other, I would be thankful.”
“Is this also done with witnesses?” Gaara asked carefully detached as his mind whirled.
“No,” Lee said smiling. “In fact, I was told by a warrior I met from the same land as my parents that it was tradition to try and tie the ribbon without your intended noticing.”
Gaara had more questions, a million questions, and he wanted to watch as Lee answered each one, eyes sparkling. But if he asked them Lee might guess what he was thinking, and he could not have him know yet.
Gaara had never expected to be married. He had never thought someone would offer their blood to him, so he had taken it for himself, spilt it over the sand because he would never taste it against his tongue. But Lee was not like Gaara. He was bright and lovely, and he wondered if Lee had always expected to be married. If he had dreamt of it. If he was disappointed to drink water alone in the desert with no one to witness. He wondered if Gaara asked, would Lee smile, too wide to be real, and talk of the ribbon and flowers and parties he had not been given.
It was a possibility, but Gaara realized it did not need to be a surety. He needed to be careful.
Gaara nodded to himself and turned back into Lee’s arms, gazing out at the moon once again.
“Thank you for telling me,” Gaara said.
Lee squeezed his arms tighter and set his chin back on Gaara’s shoulder but Gaara barely even noticed, already deep in thought, planning.
There was much to do.
He wrote to the King of the Land of the Leaves. He knew that what he would be proposing was something he could not attempt without permission from the fellow King without jeopardizing their fledgling relationship. The political implications were heavy and dangerous if not handled carefully.
Naruto’s letter back was eager and sly, and it came with what was practically a book all about the wedding practices of the Land of Leaves. Longer than any of the treaties or diplomatic letters they had exchanged, it detailed the complicated and diverse practices of marriage in the Land of Leaves. Gaara almost cringed at the size of it. It was much more than water and blood in the desert, but he read through it carefully and diligently as though it was no different than a treaty. He realized this would be more complicated than he thought, but not for the reasons he was worried for.
He called a council meeting with Naruto’s enthusiastic permission. As his council gathered, he was reminded of when they last came together to talk of marriage. It had been the council’s idea and Gaara only had taken note of the meeting because of how they had presented it. They did not demand he marry as they demanded he did everything else, carefully hidden as a request, it had been an off-handed comment and Gaara now wondered if it had first been intended as a joke.
No one laughed when Gaara presented his new proposal. No one sneered either. The council, who as a rule took every proposal deadly serious, seemed unconcerned with Gaara’s plan. Some even seemed excited and praised him for the wisdom of such a move.
After Naruto’s letter and the council’s response, Gaara realized their relationship with the Land of Leaves was not a precarious one. They had open trade, movement between lands, and a surprisingly solid trust. It was what he hoped to achieve, but he thought it would take decades. Years of carefully delicate diplomacy, tightly guarded compromises, stilted favors, and skepticism. But they had been lucky that the Land of Leaves had sent a diplomat that smiled freely, ignored subtlety, and spoke plainly in the face of hidden truths. It was months before Lee admitted to him that he had no training in diplomacy at all and now Gaara thought perhaps that was what allowed them to get to this point so quickly. It was hard to mistrust someone who refused to mistrust you.
Gaara watched the council solemnly discuss details and felt overwhelmed. When he transformed back into his human form, everything had always felt off, his chair too big, his hands too small, the sun too hot. His revelation echoed that feeling but now when the world shifted around him it only felt right. Like his chair had always been too small but now he sat comfortably, his hands had always been too big and now they could intertwine with his husbands' without strain, the sun felt like nothing against his sand-covered skin but now he was warm.
When Gaara saw his husband for their walk that day he wished he could tell him all these things, his revelations, his emotions, but he did not have the words to explain them. All he had were three. And though they were not everything he wished to convey, Lee smiled bright and bemused when Gaara said them, and he decided it was enough for now.
Gaara had little free time. It took him much longer than he had hoped to schedule an hour to himself. He only achieved it once Lee sorrowfully told him he would be unable to take their daily walk. Once Gaara moved past his disappointment, he realized it was the perfect opportunity.
When he entered the craft shop, the shopkeeper had been too confused and shocked to bow. Gaara himself was too confused and shocked to comment on it because the shop was filled floor to ceiling with more string and ribbon Gaara thought possible to exist.
“I need ribbon,” Gaara said.
“What kind? My king?” the shopkeeper asked, finally remembering to bow.
Gaara frowned.
“Red.”
The shopkeeper led him to a full wall of red ribbon and something close to panic settled itself into his stomach. They stood there in silence, Gaara glaring at the wall of string and the shopkeeper nervously flipping back and forth between the wall and their King. Perhaps he should just buy all of them. But that was just delaying the choice.
“My King?” the shopkeeper asked worriedly. “May I help?”
“You must swear that you will tell no one of this as it deals with the most delicate state matters.”
The shopkeeper gasped clutching their chest and bowing.
“I swear on my life, my King.”
Gaara nodded.
“It is for my husband. To marry him in the way the people of the Land of Leaves.”
The shopkeeper looked perplexed before smiling as soft as the yarn in their shop.
“How lovely.”
It took almost the full hour of Gaara’s free time, but they finally chose a foot of a deep red ribbon that was durable but soft and made of the finest silk the shopkeeper could find. Whilst he paid, the shopkeeper told him the story of how they asked their wife to marry them, and they sighed and told Gaara that his husband was such a nice man, and they were so happy for them, everyone was so happy for them. He felt the same world-shifting rightness as his subject smiled at him without an ounce of fear or trepidation and left the shop in a daze.
He clenched the ribbon in his hand, there was one thing left to do. Though many of his flaws could be linked to his curses, being impatient was one that he claimed as his own. He wanted to search for his husband, ignore tradition, and ask the second their eyes met next. But Lee loved tradition. He followed traditions even when they were not his own. And all of this, the letters, the meeting, the ribbon, it was all for Lee and he would do it right. Tradition demanded he wait till Lee would not notice and Gaara knew, he would only have to wait until night fell.
Gaara had not slept most of his life. The curse had not just given him the face of a beast, it had bestowed upon him the appetite of one as well. He had instincts that whispered to him, urging him to destroy and kill, ruin the land that he had promised to protect. At night the whispers grew louder, and he knew if he slept it would be the end of the Kingdom of the Sand and perhaps himself. With the curse broken, the voices and instincts had left him able to sleep for the first time in years. Still, he rarely did.
Yet, most nights he still found himself in bed, drawn to his husband’s side. Lee smiled so brightly whenever Gaara entered their room, eyes squinted and soft with drowsiness, pulling him into his arms and they would lay together until Lee softly drifted off to sleep. He would watch his husband sleep, counting time by the rise and fall of his chest and the soft muttering of trivial dreams. It was fascinating and there were times Gaara hated the sun for rising but he was soothed by watching Lee’s nose crinkle as he woke and the knowledge the night would soon come again.
It had been a few nights since he had rested with his husband, summer was a busy time as well as a dangerous time. When he entered their room, Lee was blissfully asleep and Gaara frowned at the empty spot between Lee’s arms he was unable to be in. He pulled the ribbon from his pocket and felt something in his stomach roll. Gaara was not nervous, but he was unsettled. It reminded him of the time when he had been first crowned, facing the council not as a beast to be killed but a King to lead. He felt precarious, even with his feet planted on the ground, even with the absolute surety that Rock Lee loved him more than he deserved. He had not imagined that Lee would say no, it only came to him now there was a chance.
Gaara was many things, but never had he been a coward. He allowed his sand to carry the ribbon to the bedside and carefully wrap it around Lee’s smallest finger, tying it in a tight and tidy knot. Gaara felt his heart thump firmly at the sight of red ribbon circling his husband’s finger. Though it was not his tradition, Gaara thought he understood it now, the idea that this string meant Lee was his and he was Lee’s and there was no other way for their story to have ended. Seeing the ribbon, almost made Gaara believe it.
Gaara stole away from the room to his office to wait for the day to begin. Instead of working though, he found himself watching the moon through his window. Tracking its position, counting down until he knew Lee would awaken.
Finally, there was the sound of pounding footsteps and something like a sob, this was the only warning Gaara had before his door was thrown open and his husband ran into the room. His husband’s eyes were wide and shining, tears falling freely, hair sleep rumpled. Yet for all the spectacle, Gaara’s eyes were drawn to the red ribbon still tightly wound on his husband’s finger. Gaara stood but before he could speak, Lee was on him. His husband grasped his waist and Gaara was lifted into the air, spun before he was crushed against Lee’s chest. Gaara’s heart raced as Lee’s showered him in kisses and tears, a barely comprehensible mantra of his name and my love spoke against his skin between Lee’s sobs. Gaara’s struggled to orient himself against the storm of Lee’s affection, overwhelmed but preening as pride rose in his chest. He smiled soft and careful. The world shifted around him, his heart too large for his chest and tongue too thick to speak but he felt secure with his husband’s arms around him.
Lee finally cupped Gaara’s face and pressed one last salty kiss against his lips, before he pulled back, smile wobbly but as dazzling as the sun against the sand.
“My love,” Lee said and Gaara heard an undercurrent of concern, but he had been prepared.
“I have spoken to the King of the Leaves and the Council of the Sand Kingdom,” he said, knowing Lee’s concerns. “If you would allow, I would marry you in the way of your people in the Land of Leaves.”
Lee’s eyes watered and Gaara was once again pulled into his arms.
“Oh, my love, your gift has set a fire in my heart. I simply cannot wait! I must write to my teammates and my mentor. Oh, and we must write the florist. And then we must choose colors!”
Gaara listened to Lee plan and dream, eyes sparkling and faced flushed and he knew the organizing would be long and complex and confusing, but it was a small price to pay, one he would pay as many times as he needed to allow his husband to smile that way.
*
The leaves in the trees rustled in a way that had Gaara’s guards tensing, but it was only his husband bursting from the tree line with a smile that split his face in half. He skidded to a stop next to him, grasping his hand and swinging it happily.
They were close, Lee said. He had alerted the guards and they would be met by a welcome party. Determination settled deep within Gaara’s stomach. The wedding was the purpose of the trip, but this was also his introduction to the people of the Land of Leaves. There would be meetings at every moment before the wedding, meetings with people Gaara expected, and those he did not.
In the Land of Leaves, Gaara was met with a swarm of people. At the gate stood the King and Queen of the Leaves, their warriors and officials flanking their sides. Beyond them though, the people of the Leaves gathered in crowds, peering around each other for a better look, cheering and waving as the delegation from the Sand approached.
His friend was mature and kingly as he greeted their party at the gates, his speech about their union led to cheers and screams from the crowds, and Gaara could see how he was adored by his people. But when they stepped inside his office alone, the King of the Leaves smiled bright and devious, like a child who knew things he should not. As Naruto teased him with vulgar wedding traditions and stories from his own wedding, Gaara noticed a lightness to him that he had not seen the last time they met. Their last encounter had been the fateful meeting they had agreed to bind their kingdoms through marriage. Gaara had always assumed the Kingdom of Sand had been more desperate for the union than the Land of Leaves. His father’s demand for power had led to more foolish decisions than cursing his son and the kingdom Gaara had inherited required something drastic to survive. But now Naruto’s eyes were not as heavy, and he laughed freely. Gaara realized the Land of Leaves had needed the union just as much. For the first time, Gaara wondered if the Kingdom of the Sand might not have had to offer Gaara’s hand to ensure an end to their feud.
Gaara thought back to Lee’s story of the red string and wondered of the question of destiny and choice until a particular detail from Naruto’s stories caught his attention and he left thoughts of destiny behind.
In the Land of Leaves, Gaara met the teammates Lee so loved. Once the official greeting had ended, Lee had directed him to a man that Gaara was horrified to realize looked almost identical to his husband, only older. He knew this must be Lee’s beloved mentor, Might Guy. Lee’s mentor was perhaps the person he spoke the most of. He valued every teaching his mentor shared with him and happily passed those lessons on to those he taught in the Kingdom of the Sand. Gaara was aware he was the closest thing Lee had to a father and this first meeting was almost as important as the wedding itself.
Gaara expected tears and hugging from his husband, but instead, Lee was stone-faced as he bowed deeply to his mentor.
“Sensei, I have returned from the Kingdom of the Sand,” he said as seriously as Gaara had ever heard, head still dipped.
Gaara watched as Lee’s mentor stared coolly at his student and said nothing.
“In the Kingdom of the Sand, I have worked to unite our two lands. I have done my best to bring honor to the Land of Leaves.”
“Rock Lee you are commended for your work in the Kingdom of the Sand,” Guy solemnly declared. “Your dedication to the teaching of the power of youth has gone above and beyond expectations. You have brought pride to the Land of Leaves and this team,” Lee’s mentor said gravely.
“Sensei,” Lee cried as suddenly both men burst into tears.
Gaara watched them hug each other, tears falling, as they cried gibberish that only they seemed to understand. It was a spectacle that had people who saw them staring and whispering and Gaara thought perhaps he should leave them to their embrace. However, Lee pulled away from his mentor and wiped his stray tears, squaring his shoulders.
“Sensei, I would like to introduce you to my husband, the King of the Kingdom of the Sand.”
Guy turned to him and Gaara was surprised at how intense his gaze was, he had the same kind face that Lee did but there was a hidden sharpness that his husband had not yet learned. Gaara stepped forward and bowed, slightly deeper than he should for their respective ranks.
“I am glad to meet you, father-in-law,” Gaara said.
There were gasps, Guy’s sharp eyes turned stricken, and Gaara thought he may have made a mistake. But then Lee’s mentor was crying again, spouting some barely comprehensible wisdom about love and youth that had Lee gasping and nodding, and Gaara thought perhaps this would be simpler than he had thought.
Meeting Lee’s other teammates proved that thought wrongly optimistic.
The Hyūga man was polite. He wore a mask of respect so perfect that Gaara was unsure if he was meeting a real person at all. He would be impressed if not for the fact he knew that mask must be hiding a deep loathing. If he had any doubts, the weapons master confirmed it. She was not as practiced at concealing contempt. She was perfectly polite, but her eyes were cold as knives. He could read the tension in her jaw as words cut short, simmering anger that she buried for the sake of Lee’s happiness. He had expected this. He knew he had stolen their teammate from them, regardless of Lee’s choice to volunteer. Gaara did not think he could forgive someone who wished to take Lee from his side either.
Gaara expected the cool politeness, almost preferred it to their mentor’s overwhelming tear-filled approval. He was relieved that he had meetings that prevented him from joining Lee and his teammates as they finished wedding preparations. They all had seemed to silently agree the less they interacted the easier it would be to hide their distaste for him and the happier Lee would be. It surprised him then, when that night the weapons master, Tenten, sought him out. She approached him carefully, with a respectful bow that Gaara returned. When she looked at him, her eyes were less cold than they had been at the gates, filled with curiosity but still guarded.
“May I help you?” he asked, genuinely wary of why she had come to him alone.
She gave him a sharp smile.
“May I speak freely?”
He nodded.
“I just finished quietly drinking tea with Lee.”
Of anything, he expected thinly veiled threats or an interrogation, he had not expected her to say that. Still, Lee often tended to speak in non-sequiturs, so he had learned to nod along.
“Oh?” he asked.
“I have never done that before,” she continued, still staring at him carefully guarded. “Drink tea yes, but he had never been a quiet one. At first, I was worried. I wondered: what could they have done to him. He was still smiling, but that meant little to me. Lee had always been a positive person. Even after you nearly killed him and cost him his dream, he still smiled and laughed.”
Her eyes flashed at the mention of Gaara’s violence, and he was glad for it. If Lee would not hold a grudge, he was relieved Tenten would in his place. It was a choice he should not be allowed to forget.
“I long ago learned it is best to deal with him head-on, so I asked him why he was being so quiet. Do you know what he said to me? He said ‘My husband has taught me to appreciate the quiet in a way I have never know. It was one of the first things I learned from him’.
“And that was when I finally believed him that he was in love with you,” she said.
“Why?”
“Lee has always been a poor liar, but it is easy to lie on paper. Frankly, none of us truly believed he was as happy as he claimed. When he told us, you had fallen in love, we only assumed he was only lying worse.”
Gaara only shook his head.
“You misunderstand. I know why you would not believe he loves me, but I do not understand why you would change your mind.”
Tenten gave him another curious look as though he was a puzzle she could not understand.
“If he were lying to me, he would of spoke of passion, the power of youth, and romance. Instead, he spoke of stillness and silence. I might have thought he simply finally learned how to lie only I have never seen him smile the way he does when he talks about you.”
Gaara’s pulse raced. He knew he had asked the question, but he almost wished he could have taken it back; Lee’s obvious adoration was something he could barely understand coming from him. Tenten’s almost blasé confirmation felt wholly different, embarrassing, important.
Gaara swallowed a lump in his throat and opened his mouth but he had no words.
“Why did you come to see me?” he asked finally.
“I know Lee, but I do not know you. I thought I would give you the benefit of the doubt. Do you love my teammate?”
“Yes,” Gaara said.
She narrowed her eyes.
“Yes is all you can say?”
“I love Lee,” said Gaara frowning. “I did not know how to love before Lee. I do not know how to say it in any other way.”
I love you held power when spoken, any other words felt weak in response. They could not encompass the importance of Lee to him. He had read poetry and stories to find words he could share with Lee, comparisons to the moon and blooming flowers, but they were transparent and fleeting. They felt flat on his tongue.
Inexplicably, instead of sneering Tenten threw her head back and laughed.
“You must be struggling with your vows then,” she said.
Gaara winced at the mention of the vows he was indeed struggling with. Even though it was not their tradition and had no comparisons, Temari and Kankouro had no issues telling Gaara his vows were a travesty. He did not fully understand why he was unable to promise to love Lee and be done with it, but he was aware he could not.
“I have something that may help if you would like.”
“Please,” he said. “I would greatly appreciate any help.”
Tenten smiled at him, a grudging acceptance in her gaze, and though Gaara was unsure what he had done to convince her of his heart, her acceptance and the smile on Lee’s face when he found them speaking, felt like he had won a battle.
In the Land of Leaves, Gaara was introduced to the woman who had been intended to be his wife. She was a beautiful woman, with hair like the bloom of one of his cactus flowers and eyes like the sky. She came with a reputation of strength and cunning. When she met him, she smiled politely and bowed politely and did not meet his eyes politely. She would not have demanded to meet him in the desert for their wedding, nor held his hand during his rounds, nor called him husband from across the room so all could hear and witness, she would not have loved him and he would not have loved her.
He would not have met Rock Lee.
Gaara rubbed against his sternum where an ache knocked against his chest at the thought.
“Husband, are you ok?” Lee asked, ever so in tune to him.
Gaara felt the ache fade as his husband grabbed his hand.
“Healer Haruno is an accomplished individual,” Gaara said politely nodding at her.
“She is,” Lee said suddenly frowning.
“I am glad she did not marry me,” he confessed, quietly so that only Lee could hear.
He would have married her. He would have married anyone who had been placed in front of him and it would have meant nothing to him. Once again he thought of destiny and choice and the red ribbon on his husband’s finger.
His husband’s frown turned into a painfully wide grin and tears built up in the corners of his eyes. The first time Gaara had seen that smile he had panicked, sure he had done what he had promised to never do again and hurt his husband. But now he knew it only meant he had done something right. He didn’t always know why what he said made Lee tear up and smile like he had swallowed the sun, but seeing it made Gaara burn with pride. He would do almost anything to keep Lee smiling at him like that.
*
It was days of meetings and finalizing plans before night fell on the day before the wedding. Konoha was buzzing with excitement, the sun setting did nothing to calm currents of anticipation. The next day would be one of the most intricately planned days of Gaara’s life. Lee had made many of the decisions, but he always felt the need to ask for Gaara’s thoughts, which he rarely had to share. Despite what Gaara wished, he could not give Lee his perfect ceremony. It was traditional for Leaf warriors to start the event by challenging their intended’s kin to a ceremonial fight to show their devotion. Though Lee had pouted, he had agreed that there was not a way to do this without the risk of a political incident. Still, there was plenty to do. Countless traditions and details that Gaara had studied in and out to ensure this was all Lee could have dreamed of.
It all started the night before the ceremony once the sun set. Gaara and Lee had retired to their room, alone for the first time since they set out for this journey. Lee smiled one of Gaara’s favorite smiles, it was small but content, and rarely could Gaara stop himself from returning it.
“I want to thank you husband,” Lee said grasping Gaara’s hands tightly.
He thought to dismiss the thanks, how could anything compare to what Lee had done for him, a hundred weddings would not be enough. But instead he nodded because he knew Lee would fight him and Gaara wished to start the ceremony. This tradition was the one he was most excited for.
Lee seemed to sense Gaara’s eagerness and with a final squeeze released Gaara’s hands and turned to reach for his crown. The Land of Leaves was blessed with an abundance of foliage and flowers and they had been weaved into the wedding traditions so that the ceremony itself was blooming with life.
They knelt together and Lee attempted to stop smiling, forcing a serious expression as he presented the crown of flowers he had weaved. Gaara carefully took the crown from Lee’s hands and inspected it. It was clumsily made, which told Gaara Lee had made it himself instead of buying one from the florist. It was made of small lavender and white bell-like flowers, interspersed with round simple blooms a strange soft blue-green color that Gaara took a moment to realize was the color of his eyes. Gaara had never seen these flowers before and he looked to Lee to explain.
“I have weaved for you a crown to show my regard for you,” Lee said. “I have given you chrysanthemums for you are honest and loyal and I hope for a long life with you. I have given you lavender heather for I admire you and find you beautiful. I have given you white heather to show that I will protect you and know that you will protect me in turn. Its presence represents wishes will come true for you have granted me all I could have dreamed of when I volunteered to be your spouse.”
Gaara stroked each petal as he listened. He could see where they were slightly bruised as Lee had twisted and weaved a little too rough, inexperienced and overeager.
“Your crown honors me and I will wear it with pride,” Gaara said his line.
Lee lost his serious look and beamed.
“I have weaved for you a crown to show my regard for you,” Gaara said as he reached for his own crown.
Gaara had collected plants from his own nursery, wrapped them in sand to ensure they remained healthy on the trip to Konoha. The desert plants could not compare to the lush and bright flowers of the Land of Leaves, but he thought they suited Lee well.
“I have given you Hoya kerri to show that you have my heart. Aeonium arboretum, for you are strong and resilient.”
There were large heart-shaped leaves the color of cream and jade mixed with a soft green succulent that mimicked the bloom of a flower. He had weaved in a curling green and orange plant and bright golden flowers that were one of the few blooms that could be found at this time.
“Echeveria agavoides to show that you have surprised me and continue to surprise me. And Baileya multiradiata for you are like the sun to me.”
Lee stared at the crown like a child receiving a present, he grabbed it carefully and seemed so absorbed by twisting it and looking at it from every angle that he forgot his response.
“Oh my love, it is beautiful. Your crown honors me and I will wear it with pride,” he said finally.
Gaara carefully pulled his crown from Lee’s hand and replaced it by climbing into his lap. Lee allowed himself to be moved, curling his body around Gaara, till he was almost fully encompassed by his husband. Soon he would have to leave, as once the crowns were given, they were not supposed to see each other till they met at the altar. But for now, Gaara pressed his ear to his husband’s chest and listened as he rambled about tomorrow and anything and everything that came to mind.
Gaara had left Lee drifting into sleep and spent the rest of the night attempting to do the work that refused to pause even for an international wedding. However, his mind refused to focus and soon he found himself out on the roof watching the Konoha moon. He wondered if this was the reason the people of the Leaves required them to separate the night before for all he could do was think of his husband and imagine tomorrow.
He watched as the people of the Leaves woke with the sun, slowly coming to life much later than the people of the Sand. When the sun was high enough, Kankurō came to find him and he knew it was time. Kankurō helped with his ceremonial gowns. It was a complex garment with layers of white robes and a number of red and gold ropes, sashes, and beads that reminded Gaara of how it felt to wrap himself from head to toe each day when he still had the body of a beast. His brother would get a misty look in his eyes every few minutes and Gaara was terrified he was going to start crying. People had been crying often around him on this trip and he had yet to figure out the best way to respond. As Kankurō struggled to hide a sniffle, he wondered if he should have asked Temari to help instead.
The sun was at its highest position in the sky when the ceremony started, but it was gentle in a way that it was not in the Kingdom of the Sand. Gaara turned his head to the warmth, he could see in the distance where the ceremony was to commence with crowds of people gathered. He had learned that the ceremony was usually held with those closest to the couple, followed by a less exclusive celebration. However, this marriage for all it had become, was political in its nature. They wished to use it to show the bond that the Kingdom of the Sand and the Land of Leaves had formed, so the ceremony had been opened to all who wished to attend. The highest official to the lowest citizen was asked to bear witness.
“Are you nervous?” Kankurō asked noticing his pause.
Gaara thought, his heart thumped wildly in his chest but when he considered it, all he wished for was to be at the altar with Lee by his side. He did not think he had ever been more eager in his life.
“No,” he said.
Kankurō huffed a half-laugh.
“Good luck none the less,” he said with a hearty slap to Gaara’s shoulder, and then he was alone.
He stood at the gate of the venue, adjusted the crown once more, and waited. There was a sharp reverberating bell that echoed over the crowd and signaled Gaara to step on to the aisle. The crowd fell silent at his entrance, the only sound became the soft singing of chimes that had been hung around the venue by the hundreds and swayed with the wind. He walked slowly, with his head held high, arms clasped behind his back, and gaze straight. As he passed, those in the audience bowed, becoming a wave of dipping heads before they tossed petals over his head. It was a blessing, Lee had said, alstroemeria petals for prosperity, red carnations for love, stock for lasting love, and other flowers Gaara had never seen and knew not the meaning of.
At the end of the aisle, he could see the King of the Leaves in his official robes. Naruto had been surprised when he was asked to preside over the ceremony, but neither Lee nor Gaara could think of anyone more suited. He smiled cheerily once Gaara reached the altar and they bowed to each other.
“Gaara of the Desert, King of the Kingdom of the Sand state your purpose for traveling here to this altar,” Naruto proclaimed in a sweeping voice.
“I have come to wed Rock Lee of the Land of Leaves,” Gaara declared.
“If your intended shares your desire let him travel to this altar to meet you.”
Gaara turned from Naruto, faced the aisle, and knelt in a deep bow, forehead gently pressed against his hands so that he could feel the touch of petals and stems from his crown. In the distance, he could hear the sound of deep swinging bells, lower than the decorative chimes, and Gaara struggled to keep his head against his hands. It was traditional for the highest-ranking member of the couple to wait at the altar in a bow to show respect and humility. The council had balked at the idea of their King bowing so low to a warrior of the Leaves, they saw it as a weakness. But Gaara had been eased by the strength of their lands’ union and cared little for the council’s desperate posturing. He could hear Lee approaching, the bells chiming louder and louder and the anticipation was dreadful, he ached to look up and see his husband, but he would not break tradition.
He heard Naruto swallow a laugh behind him.
“You are allowed to steal a glance,” he whispered. “It is as much a part of the tradition, being able to break it.”
Gaara carefully looked up and his heart leaped into his throat. His husband was carried down the aisle by a litter made out of a dark wood with a cushion of embroidered red and gold, curling flowers and striking cranes. He could see the edges were lined with heavy bells that resonated with each step taken, allowing their position to be tracked by sound. Lee was robed in deep green and gold that seemed to glow in the sunlight, with Gaara’s crown setting soft in his hair. His husband was a lively man, fierce yet cheerful, but atop the golden litter it was as though he was a being Gaara had never seen before. He sat calmly, hands folded in his lap and head high. The flower petals brushed his cheeks softly and clung to his hair. He looked like a statue of some long-gone king, regal and unreachable. But then their eyes met, and his husband came alive. His face lit up, lips pursed to keep from smiling, jerking forward as if he was going to leap off the litter and run the rest of the way down the aisle.
Gaara dipped his head back down before they were caught and to hide his answering smile. Once again, he could only wait as the bells chimed louder and louder, resonating with the surrounding chimes, but now the anticipation had turned back to the eagerness that Gaara had felt at the gates of the venue. The audience had vanished at the sight of his husband’s face. They may as well been alone, back in the desert when they first wed.
Finally, the bells were so close they seemed to reverberate within his skull and then, all at once, it was silent. Gaara lifted his head and watched as the litter was sat down and Lee made the last few steps to the altar. He could see Lee struggle to keep his gaze locked on Naruto even as it flickered down every few seconds.
“Rock Lee, warrior of the Land of Leaves and diplomat to the Kingdom of the Sand, state your purpose for traveling to this altar.”
“I have come to wed Gaara of the Desert of the Kingdom of the Sand,” Lee said, voice clear but shaking in its excitement.
Lee turned to Gaara and he was hit full force by one of the brightest and loveliest smiles he had ever seen in his life. It stole every bit of air from his lungs and Gaara wondered, not for the first time, if it was possible to be killed by love. Lee bowed slightly to him and then knelt so that they were level, face to face. His husband seemed to vibrate in his spot, filled with excitement and all that Gaara had hoped for that night on the roof when this was just a plan and a possibility.
Naruto cleared his throat.
“We have gathered here to bear witness to this union. Gaara of the Desert and Rock Lee once married in the way of the people of the Sand to unite our lands and bring a time of peace. But their bond grew deeper and they have come to declare their love in the way of the people of the Leaves.”
Naruto led them through the ceremony with flowery words filled with ritual but Gaara hardly listened. He focused only on his husband’s face, every twitch of his lips and every crease in the corner of his eyes. Lee plucked the red ribbon on his finger and carefully unspooled it. He took the free end and tied it to Gaara’s smallest finger, completing the imagery of the red string of fate. The sight of them connected settled deep in his bones and made his blood burn with possessive satisfaction. Naruto spoke again, more words that meant little to Gaara, but then, it was the time Gaara had dreaded: their vows.
Lee took Gaara’s hand tied with string and pressed his palm flat against his chest and covered it with his own. He could feel his husband’s heart race against his fingertips, and he imagined his precious blood pumping through his body, keeping him alive. Lee took a deep breath so that Gaara could feel his chest expand and compress.
“I, Rock Lee, vow to love you, Gaara of the Desert till my last breath,” he declared, voice ringing out.
He listened as Lee showered him with sweet words and even sweeter promises. They were words he had heard before and he was sure to hear again, as Lee had never held them in when they came to mind. What he said now reflected his words when they were first wed, when he confessed his love in the desert, what he whispered drowsily as they laid together at night, and every moment between them. He had not doubted Lee’s love for him, but he wondered if there were those in the audience who had and if they still could with Lee’s heartfelt, honest vows.
“There shall always be a place for you in my heart,” Lee finished.
“Do you accept this vow as true and honest?” Naruto asked.
“I do,” Gaara said and he felt Lee’s heart leap at his words.
Lee released his hand so that Gaara could use it to cradle his husband’s hand and place it against his own heart. He could feel it thump against Lee’s palm, and he imagined Lee pushing past his chest and pulling his heart free, knowing it was his to keep and hold now. It was racing in a way that Gaara had once contributed to the peak of his blood lust – when he had destroyed his victims and all who saw trembled in fear. He was glad to allow this moment to replace that link to the beast he once was. He took a deep breath as Lee had and spoke.
“I, Gaara of the desert, vow with the blood that flows through my veins and the soul that rests in my chest, to love none but you Rock Lee of the Land of Leaves. My hands shall be yours to use, to serve and protect, to comfort and hold. My blade shall be yours to wield, as your foes are now my foes and my life is now yours. I vow through fire and flood, blood and sickness, health and wealth, my place will be beside you. Even when death comes, may it meet us only when our days are done, it shall not part us as my heart and spirit shall remain yours."
It took only the first line for Lee to descend into tears. They were traditional vows that Tenten had found and shared with him. They were old-fashioned and out of style and therefore rarely used, but for Gaara they were perfect. He held his husband’s hand tightly against his chest even as it shook with his sobs. By the second line, Gaara had to pause to allow Lee to gather himself to hear the words over his tears. His composure only lasted a few more words before they paused again. He could see Naruto watching bewildered, but Gaara could not help but smile the whole time.
“Do you accept this vow as true and honest?” Naruto asked once Lee had seemed to gather himself again to speak.
Lee took a deep breath and when he spoke it was firm and clear.
“I do.”
Naruto turned to the audience.
“If there is one who has witnessed this and has claim that these vows are spoken with deceit, let them come forward and speak their case,” he said.
There was silence from the audience and Gaara was relieved. He knew not all supported this union of the lands, but they were quiet today and that was all that mattered.
“I, Uzumaki Naruto, King of the Land of Leaves, have witnessed the love of Gaara of the Desert and Rock Lee and bless their union. Let all who meet them know, they are wed.”
Suddenly the bells that hung around the venue burst into sound again and the audience roared with cheers. Lee wasted no time pulling Gaara to his chest, once again crying into his shoulder, pressing kisses to his head, lips, and anything else he could reach.
Gaara knew that after this there would be a party, with gifts, dancing, and drinking, and after that, he would steal Lee away to their rooms to continue with traditions that would make Lee flush and gasp, and even after that, there would still be a land to lead and protect. But for now, Gaara knelt with his husband in his arms, their hands tied with string, flowers in his hair, and he was so happy, he thought he may cry.