A/N: This was a prompt submitted by SomebodyLost on my blog, and it turned out long enough to warrant a post here. Enjoy!

You'll Fall Like A Guillotine

"and kneel before the queen"

A thunderous sound shook the Kingdom of Hidden Leaf. While most others would liken the noise to enemies attempting to batter down the entrance gates, these particular residents knew better.

"Is that-" one servant started.

"She's supposed to be on the field, what is she doing back here?" another handmaiden hissed.

"She doesn't seem too happy."

There were sounds of a struggle beyond the gate, someone yelping in pain, and another deafening BOOM- this time louder and more ominous than the last. The giant wooden doors groaned with the force, shaking loose wood splinters and dust to the ground. There was a significant pause within the kingdom. Then, chaos.

"Oh gods that's definitely her-"

"Every one! Places! Quickly!"

"Those old bats are in so much trouble now."

Servants, handmaidens, and vassals alike scrambled across the large pavilion to be presentable for their liege, or to at least clear the way for her inevitable warpath. Attendants lined either side of the large walkway, heads bowed low.

The next BOOM blew the massive wooden gate doors open, and they ricocheted off the kingdom walls with a thrum. Beyond stood a lone figure with strength of a hundred men, red cape flapping in the wind, spread arms relaxing back at her sides. She stepped across the threshold.

"Your Majesty," her entire court chorused and bowed even deeper.

"At ease," Sakura intoned, unfastening her arm guards as she walked. She shed her red cape, her pauldrons, breastplate. Each piece of her armor was taken by an attendant eager to please their monarch. Others swarmed her sides to chime in with the current happening within the kingdom walls while she was away on the battlefield. Some asked for her approval on tasks that had been long pending. Sakura addressed each issue with succinct answers and scrawled her signature when prompted. Her metal greaves clinked with each decisive footstep closer to her waiting audience, no doubt hastily gathered as soon as she stepped into her domain. Sakura could smell the fear wafting through the double doors that led to the discussion forums. She allowed herself a small smile. Good, she purred to herself.

Without breaking her stride, Sakura shucked her helmet, long pale pink locks tumbled over her shoulders in waves. She carded through her tresses and handed the piece to another servant.

Behind her, three of her generals, closest in both trust and heart, followed on her heels. Each one of them boasted an impressive skillset that had been invaluable in her campaign, though they weren't without their quirks.

"Leave my handmaidens alone, Shisui," Sakura deadpanned without looking back.

Several of them giggled when Shisui threw a wink their way before melding back into her small detail.

"Of course, your Highness," he drawled, "Though I think I should have some slack considering the way you abused my poor head."

"I would've whomped you twice," Ino interjected, "Serves you right for callin' your commander a brute."

"The next time I want for your opinion, General, I'll ask for it," Shisui retorted and Ino bared her teeth at him. "Itachi, avenge me."

"Another time, perhaps," he said and brushed Shisui's arm off his shoulders from where he draped it. Though the older man wasn't to be deterred and redoubled his efforts, hooking his arm tighter around Itachi's shoulders and drew him level so that he could whisper in his ear.

"My bad," he snickered, "You'd rather be, ah, servicing our esteemed commander in other ways, hm? C'mon you can't tell me that - ufgh!"

Itachi drove the point of his elbow into Shisui's gut, and carried on without remorse when he doubled over in pain. Ino cackled.

Punishment justly dealt, Itachi drew up to Sakura, who was waiting for the rest of her party on the stairs leading up to the advisory chamber. She rested her weight on one leg, hip cocked and arms crossed, a faintly amused expression cast upon her face.

"Dare I ask?"

"Don't bother," Ino waved her hand in the air, not before shooting Itachi a sly look, "He was getting his just desserts."

"Traitors, all of you," Shisui wheezed, bring up the rear. Itachi managed to look completely smug without moving a muscle in his face.

An attendant cleared his throat nervously from behind Sakura.

"They're waiting for you, your Grace."

She nodded and prepared to enter through the double doors, but halted when Itachi stepped up to join her.

"If you would allow me to accompany you," he murmured. He didn't quite meet her eyes, and instead focused on a point somewhere above her head. While it wasn't unusual to have him at her side at all times, Sakura couldn't help but think it had to do with the subject of the matter.

She pretended not to see the knowing look Shisui and Ino exchanged over Itachi's shoulder.

"With me, then," she replied and then added as an afterthought, "Ino watch Shisui and make sure he doesn't cause too much trouble." She didn't hear his smarmy remark as she turned to slam the doors open. Satisfaction rolled through when her audience jumped in surprise.

"Honored councilmen."

All eight of her advisors scrambled to stand, opening their mouths to greet their Highness.

"Sit down," she growled. They sat without another word.

Sakura stood in front of her chair, the aureate gold trim denoted that it was for royalty only, but she made no move to sit in it. Instead, she pressed both palms against the old cherrywood table, taking her time to eye each and every man and woman. She waited for several moments to allow each person in the room to stew - and only when the fidgeting became unbearable, did Sakura lean back from the table and cross her arms.

"I'm sure you understand why I stand before you all today."

"Your Majesty-"

"I'm not finished talking," she snarled. The man clamped his mouth shut with a whimper. She heard Itachi shift behind her, and cough once that sounded suspiciously like muffled laugh.

"Imagine my surprise," Sakura continued and reached within her breast pocket to withdraw a crumpled parchment missive, "when I received a letter from Shi, prince from Cloud. Shall I read it aloud?"

She didn't wait for a response.

"'Dearest Sakura'," she started, her voice lofty if not a little condescending, "'It would be my honor and pleasure to accept your invitation to your gala in three months time. I look forward to meeting once again, if only to have a chance to glimpse your person. I can't help but remember fondly our time together a few springs ago and I sincerely hope you might feel the same way. Yours truly, Shi'," Sakura slammed the letter on table and the wood splintered with a crack. "How peculiar," she said in a tone that indicated that it really wasn't at all, "that I should receive a response to a letter I have no recollection of ever writing. This isn't a singular occurrence either. General Yamanaka's spies intercepted similar responses from allied kingdoms and their eligible princes. I want answers. Now."

"Your Grace-"

"My Lady-"

Another voice, more calm and measured, cut through the nervous splutters.

"Your Majesty, with this war still at it's height, you must understand we're concerned not only for your well-being, but also the health of the kingdom."

Sakura narrowed her eyes at the older man who spoke. When she didn't interrupt, he took his cue to continue.

"Every day My Lady is on the battlefield - and we are fortunate to have such a fearless commander to lead us to victory - is a day that tragedy could strike this kingdom. You are much loved in this realm, and if the war should take you, I'm afraid that would make us vulnerable to our enemies. An heir would placate many worries, and we are only here to ameliorate your burdens."

"Ameliorate my burdens," Sakura repeated slowly, as if she were tasting each word, "By impregnating me. In the middle of war," Her expression darkened, "You thought it wise to put me out of commission when my country needs me most?"

When the elder opened his mouth to retort, Sakura felt the foreboding premonition of something very stupid being said.

"Councilor," she said, voice seething with strained fury, "think on your next words very carefully."

The man in question had the good sense to look chagrined. Instead, he straightened out the invisible wrinkles of his robes and asked;

"And if you should fall in battle?" Sakura tensed and bit back her quip. It was a valid concern, but -

"She won't. I won't allow it," Itachi stepped forward, his voice held the edge of steel as sharp as the blade strapped to his hip. She quashed the fluttering her heart did at Itachi's bold declaration, and watched with a keen eye the faces of her councilmen. Though they ran her kingdom well in her absence - despite their annoying penchant to meddle in her personal life - she would not tolerate any discrimination toward her most faithful bodyguard. Even if they were at war with the Uchiha Clan.

If they did harbor any ill will, they hid it well. Itachi's service record was hard to dispute, his traitor prince status notwithstanding. If he wanted to plunge the knife in her back, those windows of opportunities long passed.

The chilling cold burned her throat with every draw of breath, its icy grasp seeping through her layers of fur and leather. Damn Madara, Sakura thought viciously as her boots crunched through the snow. The Uchiha king was foolish to drag out this war, but clever enough to lure her army through the most frigid parts of the land.

She ducked through the flap of her war tent and shook the snow from her long locks. The commotion drew her eyes to two figures wrapped in black fur. Her guards were making the most racket, shouting for the two men to stand down, one of whom who stepped forward when she entered the tent. Disregarding the blades at his throat, he sunk to his knees, head bowed low. His long hair cascaded over his shoulder, shiny as a raven's feather. His companion, whose hair was curly and thick as ram's wool, mimicked his motion a moment later. Even kneeling before her, she could tell the ilk of his blood.

"You're a long way from home, prince. What do you want from me?"

"Mercy," he replied immediately, "and your willingness to listen with an open heart."

– but that was a memory to indulge in another day.

"There you have it, I couldn't be in better hands." Sakura's fingers brushed against Itachi's clenched fist and he relaxed. "Itachi has saved my life in battle a good number of times. Shisui too has proven himself thrice over. If I am killed," she saw her bodyguard snap his head towards her, "I have contingencies in place. Heir to the throne will be by merit, not by blood. The kingdom has always been my first and foremost priority - if it wasn't then I wouldn't be on the battlefield, fighting alongside my men. The fact that I personally had to travel back here and tell you this disappoints me. Thoroughly."

Sakura paused in her tirade, and grudgingly added,

"Though if you must know, I do have a…suitor in mind. After this war, if he is willing, and our relationship evolves, well…," here her voice went uncharacteristically quiet, and Itachi's stare was scorching, "In the future, there might be a child on the way."

The council erupted in excited murmurs and curious gossip as to who this mysterious man could be. From her peripheral she could see Itachi stiffen to point that he could throw out his back. A frown marred his face and he looked away from her profile. His countenance read…dejection? Heartache?

Hope leapt in her chest and made her feel almost giddy, but Sakura tampered down her excitement with mantras of obligation and duty. Soon, she promised herself.

She rapped her knuckles against the hardwood table and brought the conjecture to a halt.

"You all will pen responses to these letters and promptly inform all these princes that the only banquet that will be happening is when I crush Madara under my boot. You will explain in explicit detail that the fault of the misunderstanding is entirely yours, and I want them sent out by this evening. Have I in any form or capacity been unclear?" When she was sure each advisor got the message, she barked out, "You're all dismissed."

They filed out swiftly and quietly, eager to leave in face of their Majesty's temper. Only when the last councilor shut the door behind them, did Sakura allow herself to collapse in her chair with an exhausted sigh. She pinched the bridge of her nose, and muttered under her breath about the sheer audacity of her advisers. A side glance found Itachi still brooding, though he had taken to leaning his hip against the long table, next to her seat.

Sakura Haruno, sovereign woman king of the Hidden Leaf Kingdom, nearly rolled her eyes. So dense, she grumbled to herself. No, not dense. Humble. Selfless. Modest. In only the year and few months she had him under her command, she knew that Itachi wouldn't ever assume he would be the object of her affections, no matter how the deliberate the seduction or blatant the flirting. And it wasn't as if he was immune to her persuasions, but Itachi was so entrenched in his own martyrdom to ever consider the idea of wanting anything for himself. He was willing to bear the full fury of his birth country if only to save it from Madara's despotic rule. Yet, she saw the banked heat in his eyes and wondered what it would take to break him from extinguishing it just as she would break him from his own crusade of self-persecution.

The frost had not yet melted to spring when Sakura had taken a club to the head meant for Itachi. She crumpled like a house of cards, the last thing her blurry vision registered was his shocked rage. She woke a few hours later - the battle won and her men milling around her in worry - half in the snow and half in Itachi's lap, swathed in his fur cloak. She remembered the warmth of his large, calloused hand pressed against the side of her face that didn't hurt, his thumb tracing her jawline. Her vision was filled with distressed grey eyes, so full of concern and regard, that she felt her heart skip several beats. She was struck as suddenly as the blow to the head how much she wanted to kiss him at that moment.

My life is yours, he had told her on that cold, cold day, so don't you dare leave me behind.

Since then, she kept him close to her side, and it was hard to resist when he was so willing to please.

"So solemn," Sakura said at last, hoping her ribbing would melt the tension from Itachi's shoulders. He glanced her way and unfolded his arms.

"I was thinking," he said, and then continued when Sakura quirked her brow at him, "About the war." It wasn't the whole truth, she knew by the way he wouldn't meet her eyes, but decided to assuage his worries anyway.

"You don't think we'll win?" She quipped, tone light and playful. Itachi started, ready to protest, until he caught her mischievous smirk.

"Of course not, your Highness," he huffed in amused exasperation, "I only worry about my uncle-"

"You leave Madara to me," she really couldn't wait to wrap her hands around his stupid arrogant neck and wring the life from him, "And your family will be granted leniency as promised."

Itachi's smile was equal parts wry and thankful, and Sakura's eyes greedily roamed the tilt of his lips. His smiles were so rare, after all.

"Then I am eternally grateful and fortunate to serve under a Lady so benevolent." He reached for her hand and brought her knuckles to his mouth, ever the gentleman. Itachi flicked a glance from beneath his eyelashes and saw that Sakura was watching him with hunger. He felt the answering flare in his gut, but repressed the desire, as he'd done so many times in the past. What could a traitorous prince like him ever offer her? There were others, many others according to the letters Sakura received, who had land and power and wealth to proffer. Surely, it would be more advantageous for her to choose among that flock, and add to the prosperity of her kingdom.

When the first letter from Shi arrived, and Sakura had deigned to read it aloud, Itachi remembered vividly the ice that had clenched his stomach - it was the same feeling he experienced when she announced an interest in a man not a few moments ago. His objectivity was already shot to hell and he recognized a more selfish part of him wanted her to choose him freely - and he wanted it more every time she would smile so shyly at him when they were alone, wanted it when she would seek him out after every battle without fail and the concern for his well-being was clear in her eyes, he wanted it most of all when she curled her tongue around his name after every command, like she was reaffirming his existence there by her side, where he belonged. As it was, he was dying to put his mouth on other parts of her body than her knuckles, but Itachi would take what he could get.

"Thank you, Sakura," he said and imbued his voice with as much heat as he dared.

He pressed his lips in a lingering kiss on the back of her hand. How her skin stayed so soft when she could crush boulders with a tap of her knuckles was a mystery, but the knowledge was nonetheless tantalizing. He had to stop himself from thinking what other things about her could be just as soft.

The back of Sakura's hand was tingling with electricity, an absurd reaction for a touch so fleeting, but she couldn't help but wish he would kiss her more, elsewhere. She felt heat suffuse her cheeks and flare up the back of her neck, and something more primal stir in the pit of her belly. Sakura opened her mouth to say something, but she sealed her lips a moment later and swallowed down the words that burned her tongue.

Say my name like that again and I'll throw you on his table and have my way with you.

Itachi must have read the sentiment in her eyes, because he released his grip on her hand - albeit gently - a second later, and moved back half a step, once again resting against the table. But like the commander she was, Sakura didn't let him retreat. She stood from her ornate chair and stepped into his personal space, one leg between his so that their bodies barely brushed, his black fur collar tickling her chin. Itachi made sort of a strangled sound in his throat, but didn't back away. Instead, he seemed to lean toward her heat, dark mercury eyes dilated, and lips parted. Sakura preened.

"I can be very demanding," she said, not bothering to hide the husk in her voice.

Itachi swallowed and she watched his adam's apple bob.

"I don't mind," he rasped, his own voice rough and hoarse with desire.

Good, she purred to herself for the second time that day. Already his tenuous resistance was crumbling. She could see it in the way his eyes traced her slanted smirk, the way his fingers twitched at her sides and hips, the way he angled his head closer to hers. Behind his feeble reservations lurked a passion she would revel in unleashing. Soon.

"Well then, General, let's go win ourselves a war."

.

end