Chapter Text
They say there’s a witch in the woods.
Some say she is as beautiful as she is terrible. Some say she is a wizened crone, white-haired and shrouded in strange symbols. Others say she is just a woman, simple and unassuming.
But they all say the witch in the woods can give you your heart’s greatest desire, as long as you can pay the price.
Madara didn’t care what the witch looked like, or the warnings from the villagers she asked for directions, she only cared for the warm bundle in her arms.
Kagami had finally fallen into a restless sleep after crying through the most recent bout of fever. The young boy had come down with a strange illness so suddenly, the village healer could do nothing to treat it. No traveling doctors or herbalists could even identify the illness. The witch in the woods was Madara’s last resort. She couldn’t lose Kagami as well.
It had been five years since the Uchiha village was ransacked, leaving only herself and her young nephew alive. If it had not been for the toddler that needed her, Madara wasn’t sure she could have continued on. She had never expected to have children of her own, but she was sure becoming Kagami’s mother was the only reason she was still sane.
———
Deep into the forest, following the stream where it bends,
Over strangely stacked stones and old fox dens,
Past the lighting-struck oak and gnarled sycamore,
Is an overgrown garden and blue-painted door.
———
Those directions were shit. Two hours later and Madara was still walking. She wiped her brow, hiking Kagami up higher on her hip, and cursed the villagers’ stories. Literally what sycamore tree wasn’t gnarled? She should have known better than to trust all of those ridiculous wives’ tales. Magic couldn’t help her and this was a fool’s errand. She should just find another doctor, maybe the capitol would have someone that could help Kagami.
Madara could feel the tears of frustration building as she started walking again. She should just turn around. She should just turn around and go home, not drag Kagami on this wild goose chase. She was so stupid.
Before she could start crying in earnest, a loud meow startled her out of her spiral. Flopped down in front of her, previously unnoticed through her tears, was a massive, fluffy white cat. The cat seemed unconcerned that a stranger was standing over it, or that its fur was getting absolutely covered in dirt and leaf litter as it rolled back and forth.
Madara stared in disbelief at the little animal.
“…Can you take me to the witch?”
“Mrrrp?” The cat chirped, stretching on its back, paws is the air. It had a maple leaf stuck to the tip of its tail.
“I’m talking to a cat. This is what it’s come to,” Madara said, exasperated. She was tired, stressed, and she’s pretty sure there was a caterpillar clinging to her ponytail.
The cat looked up at her with large eyes, its tiny pink nose twitching. It suddenly shot up and raced off through the underbrush.
“Wait!” Madara yelled, rushing after the cat. She quickly passed a grove of willow trees, the long swaying branches blinding her momentarily, and stumbled to a halt. She was suddenly in a clearing, a wooden fence in front of her doing little to contain the sprawling garden filled with more varieties of plants than Madara had ever seen before. She could hear the tinkling sound of windchimes, and a plume of smoke drifted gently up from a small brick cottage’s chimney. Even from this distance, she could see the front door painted a vibrant blue.
She felt her knees grow week in relief. This had to be it! She ran down the little path, somehow now clear below her, up to the garden gate. She tried not to jostle Kagami as she opened the latch.
“Hello?” Madara called. She couldn’t see or hear anyone, not even the cat. Walking through the garden was nerve wracking. She kept expecting someone to jump out from behind a tree or start shouting at her to leave, but before she knew it, she was standing in front of a cheerful blue door. It seemed out of place for a supposedly terrible witch.
She squared her shoulders, took a breath, and started banging on the door.
“There’s no need to knock so loudly.”
Madara startled at the voice behind her. She had seen no one as she walked up, had heard nothing coming up behind her, and yet there she was.
The witch.
She wore a black dress; long sleeves, skirt, and neckline covering her from head to toe. A shimmering dark blue shawl wrapped around her shoulders, and a black veil edged in silver embroidery covered her face. The fabric seemed sheer, and yet Madara couldn’t see anything past the other’s veil. She couldn’t discern the others' appearance, or age. The witch’s voice was velvety and low, but didn’t tell Madara anything about its owner beyond how pleasant it was to listen to.
“I presume you are here looking for me?” She walked forward and Madara quickly stepped out of the way. The witch simply opened the door to the cottage and walked through, leaving it open behind her. Madara quickly followed after her, jumping in surprise when the door shut behind them.
The room they were in was… surprisingly normal. It was quaint and homey, with drying herbs and flowers hanging from the rafters and a braided rag rug on the floor. A bookshelf in the corner had an assortment of carved wooden figures between heavy tomes and no two chairs around the dining table were the same. The witch set down a woven basket that Madara hadn’t noticed she’d been carrying onto the table, a few oddly-shaped tomatoes nearly falling out.
“You are the witch of the woods,” it came out more as a statement.
“That is what they call me, yes. You think I can grant your wish,” the witch stated in return. Madara almost thought she sounded amused. “What can one with the Sun’s blessed eyes need from me?”
The Sun’s blessed eyes? The phrase sounded familiar…
Madara shook her head. She couldn’t allow the ramblings of a witch to distract her.
“Please,” she begged, “save my son!”
The witch seemed to startle, as if she finally noticed Kagami bundled in the other woman’s arms. She walked over quickly with a raised hand, freezing when Madara flinched. When the witch didn’t make another motion, the Uchiha looked down, feeling a strange wave of guilt. The other woman moved slowly and placed her hand on Kagami’s forehead. Her hand was smooth and pale with thin, long fingers.
Kagami was still asleep and just mumbled slightly at the touch.
“Oh,” the woman breathed.
“What? What is it?” Madara whispered in fear. “Do you know what’s wrong with him?”
“I do.” She sounded unhappy.
“Can you heal him? I will do anything, pay any price!”
“Don’t promise that so soon,” the witch said, stepping back and motioning for Madara to follow. She led them away from the front room, down a hallway and into another room with a simple bed, nightstand and chest of drawers. A patchwork quilt in blues and greens covered the bed and an embroidery sampler made by a clumsy hand was hanging on one wall. It was too empty to be the woman's bedroom. Was this a guest room? What guests did a witch host?
At the other woman’s prompting, Madara laid Kagami on the bed, tucking his blanket tighter around small shoulders.
“Can you heal him?” She asked again, straightening up to glare at the witch.
“The child is not sick.” Before Madara could work herself up to a confused outburst, the witch continued. “He is cursed.”
Madara paled. A curse? Who would put a curse on an eight year old?
“Can you break it?” She pleaded. Curses only got worse with time. Was it already too late? Would Kagami even be able to wake up at this point?
“I can.”
Before Madara could breathe a sigh of relief, the witch continued.
“But you may not like the price.”
“Well, what is the price? I will pay it!” She had money. All that the Uchiha owned was now hers. She would give away all of it, land, money, titles, anything if it meant Kagami would survive.
“I do not know the price.”
“What do you mean you don’t know the price!” Madara shouted, “Stop with the cryptic nonsense and just spit it out!” The witch stood placidly, seemingly unconcerned with Madara's outburst.
“I do not make the price. Magic makes its own price,” the witch said. “Many people tend to ask for similar things, so I am familiar with what prices will be enacted. I have never broken a curse like this before, so I cannot predict what the price will be. However, this is a strong, dark curse, and I cannot imagine the price will be anything but severe.”
Madara stared at the witch in stunned silence, her stomach in knots.
“You have no idea what the price will be? You can’t even make a guess?” Madara asked desperately.
The witch shook her head, veil swaying lightly. “I could guess, but Magic can be unpredictable, especially with something as large as this. It could affect his lifespan, or pass the curse onto you. It could erase his voice or blind him. I’m sorry, I have no way to know.”
Madara clenched the loose sleeves of her shirt. She couldn’t do nothing. She could not survive Kagami’s loss, and she could not allow him to continue in pain as he was now.
Why, after all their loss and suffering, did they have to endure more?
“Break the curse.”
“Are you su-“
“BREAK IT,” Madara shouted, tears in her eyes.
The witch looked like she would say more, but she simply walked over and sat on the side of the bed, back towards the other woman. She spoke in an unfamiliar tongue, the strange cadence creating a buzz in Madara’s ears. The witch pulled back her veil, facing away so Madara could only see silvery hair in a low bun. The air around them seemed to hum. Madara could almost see strands forming and floating all around as the witch chanted. One strand in particular stood out: a thick, viscous black material that led from Kagami’s chest to somewhere away, outside of the cottage. The witch leaned down to kiss Kagami on the forehead, the sound of a clear bell ringing out. The strange black strand snapped and vanished. Had she truly seen it at all?
As the witch leaned back, Madara somehow knew the curse was broken, broken almost easily in fact, and yet the tension in the witch’s shoulders only grew.
“The price has been stated,” the other murmured. “The child is now mine.”
What?
She rushed to the bed, grabbing the witch by the shoulders to demand an explanation, the woman’s veil fluttering to the ground with the movement. She turned the witch to face her and froze.
Oh.
The witch looked up at her with wide eyes, unshed tears glittering on her white eyelashes. Their ruby red color matched the three strange lines etched on her cheeks and chin, framed by the loose, silvery curls falling from her bun. Full, plush lips parted slightly in surprise, flushed a deep pink like she’d been biting on them.
So some of the rumors were true. The witch was beautiful.
“I’m sorry,” the witch said, a single tear falling down her freckled cheek, “I would not have picked this price.”
“What,” Madara started, swallowing dryly, “what exactly is the price? I have to abandon Kagami? He’s no longer my son?”
The witch looked at her sadly. “I felt the price once the Magic was complete and the curse broke. Kagami is now mine. I know some would be cruel after receiving this price, but I will take care of him and treat him well.”
“No.”
“N-no?” The witch seemed dumbfounded. “Magic will always find a way to exact its price. You can’t change it. Kagami has to be mine, or it will find a way to make it so! What if something worse happened in order to do so?” She pushed Madara’s hand off her shoulder and stood, pacing in agitation.
“Kagami can be yours, but I’m not losing him,” Madara said, crossing her arms. The witch turned to stare at her like she was a madwoman. A crazy idea had popped into her head after seeing the witch's face.
Well, she’s never been accused of being completely sane.
“I’m staying here with my son,” she said. “I guess we’re both his mother now.”
“What!?” The witch screeched, her entire face flushing strawberry-pink.
“You should probably tell me your name if we’re going to be co-parents,” Madara said smugly. If the price only stated Kagami had to be the witch’s, then that doesn’t mean he can't still be Madara's as well.
The witch leaned heavily against the chest of drawers, raising one hand to her forehead. Madara reclined back on the bed, watching as the witch’s gaze followed the line of her arms where they flexed, holding her weight, and back up to her face where the pale woman somehow flushed even darker. Interesting.
“My name is Tobirama,” she said softly, tucking a loose curl behind her ear.
“Well met Tobirama the Witch,” Madara grinned. “My name is Madara Uchiha, and this here is Kagami. We’ll be in your care from now on.”