Was planning to work either on my thesis or on the next chapter of my other ongoing story but this plot bunny just won't go away. Been plaguing me since summer started. I was also talking to fanofthisfiction about chaptered stories and I thought this would be a timely experiment.

Un-courtly love

i. An offer of marriage

"No, Father. I refuse to."

The Princess of Suna had her arms folded across her chest in utter defiance with her face sharply turned away from the King.

When she didn't hear a quick counter from her father, she relaxed her shoulders and sighed audibly.

"I know I'm your daughter but this is one order I will not obey," she spoke more gently this time, giving her father a sideway glance.

"Not the only one."

Temari whirled to face the King when she noted the hint of amusement in his tone, and true enough, her father was seemingly assessing her face for any possibility of overdue confessions from her. Flashes of her mischievous adventures were beginning to flood her mind, and she tried so hard to get them out of her head just so they wouldn't appear visible on her face.

Oh, she would never tell him how she would sneak out of the palace in disguise just before supper to stroll down the streets of Suna. She knew she wasn't supposed to visit the town if there wasn't any official arrangement to do so, but she reasoned to herself that she couldn't be a prisoner of the palace forever. She would also never ever admit that it was actually she who was making those indistinct noises every night, secretly training by herself. Her father had made it quite clear to her since she turned eighteen that mastery in weapon-wielding needed formal training and that it would be dangerous for her to attempt to do it herself, but the moment she laid her fingers on her weapon, all kinds of warnings given to her just flew out the window.

She began to wonder if his father really knew all about her forbidden escapades or he was just assuming things like most fathers do when it comes to their young adult children. Nevertheless, she composed herself and held her chin higher as if saying, "You're greatly mistaken, Father."

The King just shook his head fondly before picking up a smart tone again.

"But you do know that you're supposed to be marrying at your age. It's stated in -"

" The Code of Suna," she coolly supplied.

"I'm glad you did your reading."

He crinkled a smile at her, and she dropped her arms, clearly taking offense.

"Father . . ." she tried not to express her anger too much. "I may not be the most obedient daughter but I still know my duties!" she almost screamed but thought that it was unbecoming of a princess so she fumed in silence.

The King just nodded, his chin now perched above his laced fingers. "And I'm sure you know that marriage is your duty, too."

"I . . . know!"

She began pacing around the hall, trying her might not to stomp her every step until she halted, turning back to face her father. "But I'm not ready, Father. You can't just marry me off!"

"I'm not marrying you off, my daughter. I'm planning to invite princes and gentlemen from other kingdoms and it's your decision to choose among them."

She stood there, gaping for a moment. She couldn't believe how her father could stay calm through all this as if her marriage was the most natural thing in the world, and he, as her father, was rightfully doing his duty as the catalyst. But hearing that her father seemed to be giving her a bit of freedom, she began to hope that she still had a fair chance of getting herself out of this ordeal. She then carefully began to phrase her next question.

"But . . . what if," she paused, biting her lip for an effect. "I don't like any of them?"

With a dismissive tilt of his head, the King came out with a smooth reply. "Then give me a name of your choice and we'll see."

Temari wanted to tear her hair out in frustration. She was so never going to get out of this.

"But I don't know anyone!" she finally shouted in anguish.

"Exactly," her father declared triumphantly.

She was just about to come up with another retort when a knock was heard and a palace guard came marching in.

"Your Majesty, King Hiryuu from the Ame Kingdom has arrived," he bowed before making his exit.

Temari's eyes were wider than they had been moments earlier. She then nervously turned to her father.

"King Hiryuu . . . does, does this mean the prince -"

"No, no," he laughed lightly. "We just have some business matter to talk about. But I plan to open up the topic to him. I'm planning to invite his son to come over here in the next few days."

"You can't do this. It's unfair!" she reacted indignantly, her fists tightly balled at her sides.

The king frowned before standing from his high-backed throne.

"I'm sorry. But this has to be done," he said, giving a light pat on her shoulder before walking out of the hall.

Temari just plopped herself down on an armchair upholstered in blue velvet, her gaze directed to the glazed marble floor. She would never accept this. She had always been aware of her fate as the princess and the only heir to the throne, but she didn't quite worry about it when she was younger because she was so sure that everything would change when she reached the age of twenty-one.

Although she didn't want to admit it, she hoped that by this time, she would have met someone that could actually make her want to marry even when she swore off the idea years ago. Young girls usually like to fantasize about their weddings when they grow older, but she was never a fan of such fantasies. She never anticipated the day that she would have to find herself in a wedding dress, exchanging vows with someone she actually loved.

Years ago, she became aware of what love brings to people, and she got scared of experiencing it firsthand. She didn't want to deal with the pain that would be greater than the physical, a wound that might never heal.

Another knock resounded in the almost-empty hall, and it wasn't long before she heard the padding of footsteps.

"I passed by the King and he told me you're here, Princess."

She didn't face the intruder, still caught up in devising plans to stall what was to be her fate.

She heard the person move, and in seconds, there was the sight of a coat of plates, worn-out boots, and steel scabbard in her peripheral vision.

"Your training was supposed to start ten minutes ago."

The man clad in a suit of armor spoke with practiced amicability, and she didn't know why this just irritated her even more.

She looked up, sending his way a quick glare before forcing herself to stand.

"Yeah, sorry. Father and I just had something to talk about."

The knight just nodded in response as he began to trail her when she rather listlessly made her way to the door.

She was glad that her knight wasn't particularly fond of conversations because she found the current silence very comforting, a chance for her to calm down her war of nerves. She had known Shikamaru since she was eleven years old. She would usually see him somewhere in the palace and being the only other child present in the vicinity, she always wanted to approach him and play with him. Her attempts failed most of the time though because he wouldn't usually respond to her friendly gestures. When she turned eighteen, the King had assigned him to be her personal guardian and trainer, her knight as she would like to think of him. She had never really thought of knights as those romantic creatures in fairy tale books that her mother used to read to her, but she thought of Shikamaru as a knight for his unyielding loyalty both to her and her Father.

She knew that even her Father trusted this young man so much because sometimes, he would personally ask Shikamaru to accompany him on his travels. Also, that he was the one whom her father assigned to protect her was a reassuring fact in itself that the man would never do anything to harm her.

Sometimes, she liked to think of him as a friend. After all, he was the only one whom she had known for such a considerable period of time. She had handmaidens but most of them were too old to even bother to chat with her outside of their work. On rare occasions that she got to have younger servants, she still hadn't stood a chance of befriending at least one of them. They never spoke to her in such a manner that displayed their willingness to accept her offer of friendship. She guessed it must have been because she was a princess, and everybody else thought she was just another brat dressed in royalty.

But in all honesty, ever since she lost her mother to a terminal illness at an early age of eight, she had been in dire need of a friend, of someone to talk to. Although she and her father no longer had issues with their father-daughter bond now, she could still remember how he had shut himself off after her mother died. She didn't see him crying, but he visibly grew colder, and there were times that she would have to comfort herself alone, burying her face in her pillow, because there was no father to turn to. She concluded then that love is really such a scary thing, and she wouldn't want to deal with it if she could help it.

They finally reached the training ground. It was a wide expanse dotted with gingko trees here and there that weren't in any form obstructive to her training. While the space was located half a mile from the palace's back gate, it was still technically part of the palace because numerous guards still secured its perimeter.

She noticed that the weapon had already been brought from the weapons' storage room, and she watched as Shikamaru carefully opened its lid, lifted her weapon, and wordlessly handed it to her. When she received her fan, she nudged it so it could slide open and brought it over her back, its width almost covering the length of her figure from head to toe. She then assumed a fighting stance.

"No, Your Highness, we should start with the basic form."

She faced him and remarked angrily. "But I'm way past that stage!"

He curtly nodded. "It's still proper to brush up on the basics every now and then."

"Then what am I training every night for?"

"Princess, no one told you to train during the night," he replied calmly.

"Oh, but you did!"

"I never."

"Yes. You know about it but you never said anything. You're even there!"

"That's part of my duty as a knight, Princess," he said, closing his eyes for a moment.

Rather than wasting more of her time arguing with him, she decided to let it rest.

"Fine."

She then shifted to the ready stance, the basic form that Shikamaru was talking about. She folded up her fan and placed it inches away from her on a horizontal position with her feet apart, her body facing a bit forward. Hearing no nasty remark about her position, she began to ready herself for the next stance. She slid her right foot forward at a 45-degree angle from her other foot, opened her fan slightly and held it just above her right leg. She raised it higher, ready to make her first attack. She was just about to flick her wrist to create what she thought would be a massive sweep when Shikamaru spoke.

"You won't deliver that much with that position. Your muscles," he gently touched her raised arm, "are too taut. You have to deliver with ease."

She none too gently shrugged off his hand.

"I know!"

"Your position seems to be off, too, Your Highness. You have to distribute the weight of your body."

She heard the beginnings of disappointment in his tone so Temari folded her fan with a snap and sighed in exasperation.

"Can we cancel this? As you may have noticed, I'm not in the mood to train," she thrust her fan his way.

He retrieved it from her clutch. "But you'll have to at least flex your muscles once a day."

"Not in the mood, I say."

It was his turn to sigh in exasperation. "You'll need to be prepared for your future battles, Princess."

Indeed, she had always dreamed of being able to protect herself ever since the war that killed thousands of people happened eleven years ago. After her mother died, she realized that her father's increasing absence wasn't all because of his desired way of mourning but because he was also attending to some peace matters. However, his desire for a peaceful process didn't come to fruition when a war inevitably broke out just two years after they lost her mother. She couldn't remember much of what happened, only that she was kept in the palace with lots of guards around while her father lead the charge in the battlefield. Many knights of his father got killed while her father sustained injuries. She recalled how he had to wear a cast for months after the war.

"Battles?" she sneered. "Will I really be pitch into the battlefield if I'm going to get married soon? Don't you think my HUSBAND," she spat, "shall be the one to take responsibility for that?"

"Marriage," he repeated. It was more of a question than a statement.

"My father is going to marry me off soon," she stated in disgust, looking away in order not to see the pitiful look that he would sure be sending her way.

Shikamaru just let out another sigh.

"I'm sure His Majesty didn't say it like that."

"Fine. Take his side. You always do, Shika," she scoffed.

She knew she was being too familiar with him, but she had given that nickname to him the fourth time she tried talking to him when they were still kids. She would call him that way whenever she would make a request to him to accompany her on her late-afternoon strolls or to train with her during some nights. Now that she thought about it, it might actually have been Shikamaru who had been whistling information to her father. She really wouldn't be surprised.

She barely registered the sound of her weapon's case clicking shut when he said, "Alright. Let's call it a day. I'll see you tomorrow for your training."

"No," she pursed her lips. "We'll train tonight. As compensation for today."

Shikamaru started lifting the case off the ground. "We can't, Princess. And I'm sure if you'll be married soon, you're going to have to start the preparations. You have to rest early."

Temari stared at his passing figure in disbelief. She felt betrayed.

"Can't you at least take my side just this one time and can you stop treating me as a princess? Call me by my name!"

Shikamaru paused for a moment. "I can't," he said before resuming his steps.

Temari strode to catch up with him until she was effectively blocking his path. "But you are supposed to be my childhood friend, Shikamaru."

She knew he would deny it, but she was desperate for someone to be with her on this, and he was the only one she knew.

"No."

"Yes! I've known you since we were eleven!" she insisted despite the hopelessness of the situation.

Shikamaru just slowly shook his head.

"You're still a princess, and I'm just . . ." he looked away, "a knight."

She placed her hands on her hips and vigorously shook her head, sighing loudly. She didn't want to think so much about how he just confirmed that it was all a one-sided friendship since the beginning. She didn't want to dwell on it, but she must admit it hurt just a teeny weeny bit.

"No matter. You're still a friend so you should be on my side."

She saw him open his mouth but suddenly got distracted. She followed his gaze and turned to see two servants running towards them.

"Your Highness," both of them panted, "His Majesty is calling for you."

"I'll take care of this," Shikamaru motioned his head towards the case resting on his forearms. "You may go, Princess."

She looked into his eyes and an idea began to form in her head. "No. You're coming with me."

She suddenly picked up the case from his arms and pushed it towards the servants. "Please return this to safety. Thank you," she said in a hurry before grabbing the hand of the confused knight.

She overcame his resistance with an enormous effort until she was finally able to drag him back inside the palace.

Her father met them halfway, and she didn't let go of Shikamaru's hand even when her father briefly passed his eyes over their unusually joined hands although it looked like more of Temari's hand being forcefully enclosed over Shikamaru's.

The King cleared his throat before speaking.

"King Hiryuu was pleased to know about the plan. He will talk to his son and we plan to meet again next week. I'll be inviting other princes as well—"

"No, no. Father. I refuse to." She looked at him determinedly, her grip on Shikamaru's hand tightening.

"That was your same line a while ago, daughter."

"Yes. But you said I could give you a name."

The King furrowed his brows. "You said you know no one."

"Oh, but I do, Father!" she beamed before continuing, "Him."

She looked at her knight and inwardly smirked at his face, usually bored and impassive, now overwhelmed with shock. Taking advantage of Shikamaru's reaction, she hurriedly pried his palm open with her hand so that she could intertwine her fingers with his. She then raised their clasped hands enough for her father to see.

With a confident release of breath, she began:

"It's Shikamaru that I want to marry, Father."

...

Tbc.

(let's see where this one goes)