Work Text:
Day 1 - Fantasy/
Court
“Wait…you're not… staying?”
Tobirama stopped walking and sighed; it was always the same question.
“But-but you saved me! You saved me, which means we have to get married!” The Prince's voice shook even as he tried to sound confident in his declaration. “The curse could only be broken by True Love's First Kiss. You broke the curse, so we must get married because you love me.”
That made Tobirama turn around with narrowed eyes, mouth parting to say otherwise but the Prince kept talking.
“It'll make you Prince Consort of course, and we'll have to give an announcement to the people and-”
“No.”
The Prince blinked, mouth still open mid-word before he started sputtering, unused to being interrupted by others. His nose wrinkled in disdain, red splotches colouring his cheeks in an embarrassed flush as he glared at the man that cut him off. Tobirama, on the other hand, felt himself relax, leaning into the hand that had come to rest on the backplate of his armour and letting the tension in his shoulders slip away.
In front of them, the Prince drew himself up, squaring his shoulders before speaking slowly, in a condescending tone, “You shouldn’t interrupt royalty when they are speaking, it can have quite a few consequences you know.” The Prince swept a look over the other man's dusty robes, the old worn gloves covering his hands.
“Normally, such behaviour would result in some time spent in jail, but I’d hate to ruin such a happy day as my engagement and it is only right I show mercy on such a joyous occasion,” he held out his hand, a nearby servant hurriedly offering a heavy looking pouch to him that clinked as it moved. Reaching inside, the Prince withdrew a handful of gold and silver coins before stowing the pouch and handing the coins back to the servant, who placed it into a much smaller cloth bag that was hastily tied with string. “A reduced reward for your work as payment for your behaviour, but still quite adequate for a mage of your-” he paused for a moment, eyes flickering to dirty boots as he smirked slightly, “-ability.”
Tobirama closed his eyes. He could feel his lover's magic stirring with agitation more and more as the Prince spoke, before abruptly stilling as a servant offered up the slim bag of coins. He considered stepping in and stopping the other man from causing an international incident with a foreign prince, before remembering everything he’d had to put up with over the last 4 days.
(The Prince hadn’t stopped whining since they’d broken his curse and woken him up. Complaining about the food they had to eat, about having to sleep on the ground, all the walking and travelling they had to do to get back to the city and royal castle. As if they were the ones that decided to stick him in a tower in the middle of nowhere after he got cursed. Even worse, he seemed to think Tobirama was the best person to stick to. He hadn’t had more than 5 minutes to himself in days . By the time they’d made it back, he was ready to throw the annoying brat at the King and Queen's feet and leave as quickly as possible.)
Nevermind.
He dug his own grave with his actions and now had to deal with the consequences; if those consequences just so happened to be Tobirama’s angry husband then that’s his own fault.
Madara was not having a good week.
(It was meant to be a vacation. They’d handed off their duties for the next few months, to both Touka and Izuna respectively, and then taken off to travel and relax. Wandering the country and neighbouring kingdoms as normal adventurers rather than Grand Archmage Uchiha Madara and Reigning Champion Senju Tobirama. They picked up odd jobs and quests as they went, and traded room and board for services rendered. All while being able to get to know the people and their problems in a way they could never achieve normally.
And it was great!
Until the last quest they picked up.)
“Let me get this straight - the Crown Prince got cursed by a rogue mage. The Court Mage couldn’t break the curse, and instead of going to the Council of Magi and hiring a certified curse breaker - who are there for this exact reason - the King and Queen decided, for some bizarre reason , that the only reasonable course of action was to move him into a tower in the middle of a nearby forest and hope a competent adventurer would come along to fix it? Did I get that right?”
The knight nodded, and Madara felt a headache start to pulse behind his eyes. Of all the stupid, idiotic things to do… He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed at his temples in frustration.
“Their Majesties are very traditional. They followed the traditions of past curses in order to find a solution and when all else failed they considered it a sign that they needed to go back to one of the oldest traditions in order to save their Heir.”
Oh…they’re traditionalists, fantastic.
Traditionalists were always the hardest to work with. Trying to convince them to try new methods was always a trial and a half, and typically by the time you got around to dealing with the problem it was 10x worse than what it started as. Part of Madara wanted to throw his hands up, decline the quest and walk right back out of the city.
But, Madara glanced at his husband out of the corner of his eye, Tobirama looked interested. Whether it was curiosity about the curse or a desire to help simply because they could, Madara was willing to indulge him. And really, how bad could it be? They didn’t have to interact with the King or Queen to convince them to let them help; they could just follow the knight to the tower and deal with it directly. Either it would be a quick fix and minor detour or complex enough to keep their interest and make it worth the time to stop.
Simple.
(It was only 2 days' travel on foot, and once they arrived, they made short work of the tower's protections and were quick to make it up to the tower’s peak. The curse itself wasn’t anything special either; a typical slumber curse made unique only by the fact it had been cast in the unpopular oracle bone script.
It was a recent script that had never caught on and fell into disuse within the first year of its release. Madara only recognised it since he had to have a working knowledge of all the scripts, old and new, due to his position as Archmage. Well, that and the fact that Obito had gotten obsessed with the script, insisting that it sounded ‘badass’, and refused to transcribe his spells into anything else for over 3 months. Madara supposed he could understand why the Court Mage had struggled with it, if they were as traditional as the Royals they worked for.
A quick runic circle and the curse was gone.
Then the asshole woke up.)
Madara was going to strangle the royal brat. He was sure Tobirama would help him. He watched as the Prince followed Tobirama around their makeshift campsite for the third morning in a row, rambling on about nothing and making no attempt to help the white haired man pack their supplies away. He grabbed onto Tobirama’s bicep, holding onto it tightly as he leaned into him and made him take his weight. Madara’s nose flared in anger, the faint smell of smoke drifting up to him from the tent poles in his hands. A glance down had him quickly releasing the wooden pole, black marks in the shape of his hands burnt into its surface.
Shaking his hands, magic sparking off his skin as he did so, he hissed through his teeth, “I’m going to kill him. I’m going to dump him back up that fucking tower and curse him so hard he’ll be sleeping for fucking centuries.” The knight beside him jolted, and Madara realised he hadn’t been talking as quietly as he thought he was, but seeing him hurry over to the Prince and draw him away from his increasingly stressed husband was enough to calm his temper, if only slightly.
Breathing deeply, he bent down to collect the fallen tent poles, packing them away and throwing the full bag over his shoulder. Only one more day. They were nearing the edge of the forest, and once they were on the road they’d - hopefully - be able to pick up the pace a bit. A high pitched giggle reached his ears from across the clearing, the Prince slipping away from his knight and heading back towards Tobirama. Madara held his breath and let it out slowly, smoke curling past his nose.
One more day.
(Tobirama linked their fingers as he fell into step beside him and squeezed lightly. Madara felt a smile ghost across his face, heart swelling at the small act of comfort offered so easily. His husband was struggling with the situation just as much as he was, but he still took the time to calm and comfort him.
They’d go delving after this, find an old ruin or ritual site that he could let Tobirama loose on. Let him research to his heart's content and wind down a little. A mini vacation away from their main one, ha.)
Just one more day.
“-on such a happy day as my engagement -”
Engagement? ENGAGEMENT? Madara felt his blood start to boil in his veins, his magic cycling faster and faster, ready to explode at any moment. Tobirama was his husband! HIS! How dare he try to separate them.
The brat was still blabbering, looking down his nose at him haughtily, as if the slim bag of coins dangled in front of his face would make his actions reasonable. As of that was all his husband was worth. As if he thought he could buy Tobirama like he was nothing more than a pretty trinket or piece of cattle. How dare he.
(He could kill him if he wanted to; it would be so
easy
. The Kingdom had a spare princess, they didn't
need
this one, not really. Let him burn. Let him suffer for his arrogance.
Let him see the madness of a Uchiha in love.
)
He didn’t speak, stone faced as he locked eyes with the Prince, reaching towards the small bag of coins still being held out. A triumphant look spread across the Prince’s face as his hand engulfed the bag. Madara bared his teeth, grip tightening as smoke began to rise from his clenched fist, while satisfaction pooled in his gut as the Prince started to falter. Lunging quickly, Madara curled his free hand in the Prince’s hair and yanked it back harshly, watching as the others' eyes widened in panic. He flailed wildly, trying to twist out of his hold and crying out in pain.
“Quiet.”
He shook him sharply, waiting as his cries fell to whimpers and then to silence.
“We told you that we were leaving. We did you and your Kingdom a favour by saving you, and instead of respecting our choices, you tried to force your desires on us.” He held his smoking fist up, hovering it near the captured Prince’s eye line as molten gold began to seep through his clenched fingers. “Not only did you try to force my husband to stay here, when that didn’t work you tried to buy him.”
A drop of gold rolled down Madara’s fingers, falling down to the Prince’s collarbone and making him scream as he burned. He shook him again, leaning closer and talking over the pained whimpers.
“We’ve given you multiple chances over the days; Tobirama, my husband, had stayed my hand during those days by the simple logic that, once returned, we could leave and forget about you. Instead you had to push, you tried to take. Your behaviour needs to be corrected.” He tilted his face to the sky, letting him see the hand of gold held over his eye. His voice lowered, tone going almost soft as he held onto the shaking body. “You need to learn.”
He lowered his hand, just a hair's breadth away from the Prince’s cheek. “ Pl-p-please, d-don’t, please, plea-i’m sor-ry, please I-I…”
Madara held firm, unmoved by the stuttered begging and messy tears. “You need to be taught in a way you will remember. You will learn, and suffering will be your teacher.”
He opened his hand.
(Tobirama turned to Madara, his husband sliding a plate of food into his lap as he moved his notes out of the way. As Madara settled next to him, he leaned into his side, eyes catching on a letter in his hand.
“Is that from Anija? What does he need?”
Madara hummed, a small smirk gracing his features before he threw the short letter into the fire.
“Oh, it was nothing important. Just an announcement about one of the nearby Kingdoms; the Crown Princesses coronation is coming up soon. He wants to know if we intend to go; I politely declined.”)