Chapter Text
The first thing she noticed was the panicked expression on her ancestor’s face as she darted out of the tent in a flurry of canvas cloth and limbs. The next thing she noticed were the two other adults standing on the beaten path, blocking the way she had come. She stared at them for a few seconds, green meeting a set of grey and blue, and then her frazzled brain was screaming at her to run. Every single coherent thought left her head, limbs scrambling to find purchase on the muddy grass as she made to run in the opposite direction.
Her heartbeat was like a little drum in her chest, lungs struggling to swallow enough air as she headlong sprinted as though her life depended on it. For all she knew, it did, part of her mused, even as a good ninety-percent of her rational thought process was consumed with the animalistic instinct to escape and survive.
Legs moved, feet nearly slipping in the slick mud, and all Sakura could do was scramble for purchase and channel her inner mountain goat as she nimbly ducked under the one of the ropes holding up the nearest tent and vaulted over the next.
Movement caught the corner of her eye, panic clutching at her chest and squeezing as she realised that she had somehow ended up running further into the camp, if the next line of tents was anything to go off of. Sounds of footsteps behind her had her sprinting forwards, eyes guiding her towards the spaces with less people milling around – or, more aptly, chasing her as the alarm was raised.
Her heart thudded furiously, feet moving as quickly as they could as she desperately tried to search for a way out of that camp which didn’t have a hundred odd elves between her and the exit. Where was Eluréd? Sakura could only grit her teeth, having lost her ghostly lookout in the process of trying to run.
There was noise from all around her, fear clawing at her throat as she realised just how lost she had quickly become. Where was the exit? She rounded the corner of the tent, slamming headfirst into a pair of armoured shins.
A shriek escaped her, fingers ghosting against the fabric of the dress she wore, and it was almost as if Madara had dropped another meteor on their heads – besides the fact that Madara didn’t technically exist there – for all the way that every elf around her seemed to collectively focus on her and her alone.
There were too many of them, and they were all far too close to her.
Hands reached towards her, movement in the corner of her eye making her scramble forwards as someone attempted to bodily tackle her—
Who tried to tackle a legitimate child? Sakura could only scowl at that, her mind briefly reminding her that oh yeah, she was an actual child again, and then she was diving into the nearest tent in search of an elf-free space.
Her eyes locked on the edge of the tent that seemed to be the least pinned down, almost bellyflopping to the floor as she desperately squeezed her way through the narrow gap. Being small, it seemed, had its advantages every now and then. It was clear outside, at least for the moment, Sakura mused, scrambling through the gap and yelping when a hand closed around her ankle.
She wanted out, part of her could only idly muse, even as she flailed her feet around, kicking determinedly with her free foot when she felt it make contact with something warm and distinctly face-like. A yelp of pain informed her of her success, and then she was free to continue burrowing under and out from the tent like a determined, mildly demented caterpillar.
“It is one child,” she heard someone mutter, barely paying attention to the hollering of adults over her head as she sprinted forwards and rolled neatly through a set of legs that had just been standing there – spaced wide enough apart to provide a path for her.
Amateur, she thought – but that was all the better for her if they were terrible at wrangling one inordinately small seventeen-year-old elf child. Her feet dug into the dirt, panic clutching at her heart once more, because she’d long since been surrounded by that point. There were four tents blocking the majority of her way, and for each of the four grassy paths to freedom were at least two or three elves stood there. Her brow furrowed, legs keeping her moving when anyone dared to get too close, eyes darting around for any hands that came too close for comfort.
Breaking through the encirclement, it was, she thought, scowling at the person who was now crouching down and opening their arms wide. “Child,” they spoke in a voice which sounded more masculine than not, which had Sakura tentatively calling them male despite the long hair that was half-braided back in an artful style. “It’s okay. We will not harm you,” he said, and Sakura only squinted at him as she wondered just how she was supposed to believe him.
Shinobi would happily say something similar to a target they were required to harm, if only to get them to lower their guard. Who was to say the situation in front of her wouldn’t unfold the same? She had stolen food, and that was an army camp, fresh from battle, and she had no idea just how well-stocked they were supplies-wise.
“Perhaps they do not speak Sindarin?” the lady standing next to the one crouching down offered, frowning at her then, and Sakura felt her metaphorical hackles rise at that, even as the ellon spoke at her again – this time in a completely different language that she didn’t understand a single word of.
Hairs on the back of her neck pricked, and she spun around, darting forwards when she spotted a pair of grabby hands far, far too close for comfort. Her eyes locked on the route with the least elf-shaped obstacles in the way, feet scrambling in the dirt as she sprinted towards freedom.
Yet there were still two obstacles in the way, both of them waiting there, hands at the ready to catch her and take her off to meet whatever fate would befall her if she was caught. If. She just had to go over or under those arms at the exactly right timing. No pressure, part of her mused, even as she raced towards them.
“Got you,” the closest elf murmured, hands reaching out to grab a hold of her, and Sakura jumped. Her feet dug into his forearm, very nearly slipping on the smooth metal of his armguards, as she bunny-hopped onto his back – tucking into a roll and tumbling down until she made contact with the ground.
A small smile pulled at her lips at the tiny victory – because at the end of the day, she was still in the middle of an entire camp and yet there was a glimmer of hope—
The same glimmer of hope that was quickly snuffed out by a pair of hands closing around her waist and hoisting her up off the ground.
“How is it”—the ellon holding her demanded, shifting her so that she was tucked under one arm as she squirmed desperately—“that an entire squadron of my best utterly failed to catch a single child?”
Sakura hissed, fear coming to gnaw at her insides as she twisted herself – in ways she hadn’t quite known were humanly possible, and yet she was an elf now, so maybe that was why she could contort her body like that – around, hands scrabbling for a proper handhold on something. She hung upside-down then, an arm like an iron band holding her in place, even as she viciously aimed her feeble strikes for the backs of the kneecaps.
“My word,” the lady from before murmured, grey eyes seeming to bore holes into her skull as she stared at her trapped form; her pink hair almost brushing against the mud of the ground, green eyes glaring back warily. “It seems as though we might have to send enquiries out… to both the Woodland Realm, and Lothlórien…”
Sakura blinked, abruptly finding herself righted back the correct way up in accordance with gravity. Dark brown eyes stared at her then, hands holding her then just under her armpits and hoisting her up so that she was held at arms length, eye-level with her captor. Dark red hair was half loose, the bits that had been braided back seemingly rushed; as though the ellon had been in a hurry.
“Lieutenant Merildir,” another elf of the male persuasion greeted the ellon holding her captive. “Your child wrangling skills were as efficient as ever. Sir,” he added on, and Sakura could only watch the proceedings going on around her even as she was swiftly tucked back in to that strange red-haired elf’s side.
“It has only been two yéni since my wife gave birth to Meriliel,” Merildir remarked, and Sakura startled as one hand mussed her hair. “I would hope my skills wouldn’t be rusty just yet.” Her heart was still beating frantically in her chest, fear still surging and ebbing in her gut as she was simply held there. She wasn’t being dragged off to be imprisoned somewhere until her fate could be decided. Rather, she was just being held, like a child, while a bunch of adult elves conversed over her head.
Maybe Eluréd had been completely and utterly correct in the fact that they wouldn’t harm her? Sakura could only blink and stare, some of her fear abating as she was just held there. A hand smoothed her hair down every now and then, dark brown eyes occasionally flicking down to meet her own, curious stare.
“I think we had best be off,” Merildir said, cutting off whatever conversation he’d been having with what could only be his subordinates. “Finding a child out here… an elfling, especially, is a matter that must be escalated…”
“Does the child not speak?” one of them asked, peering curiously at her then, and she shied away from the inordinate amount of attention that was suddenly being directed her way. “Can they not tell us of where their parents are?”
Sakura barely resisted the urge to flinch. Her parents were gone; whether trapped in an endless illusion, actually dead, or somehow alive yet separated from her in a manner that was eternal. She didn’t have parents there, rather all she had was the name of her cousin, and her currently missing shades of her two ancestors. Loneliness hit her like a punch to the gut then, and, much to her own consternation, she felt tears biting at the corners of her eyes.
Yet that was the fate she’d chosen, and nothing was seemingly about to let her forget that much.
“Aerion, go and fetch some water and have it warmed,” Merildir ordered, the tone of his voice leaving no room for argument. “This one definitely needs a bath before anything else can be done.”
Which was rude, definitely, but probably true, Sakura mused with a soft huff. She had become something of a little dirtball while running around the camp. Besides he’d mentioned warming the water, and a hot bath sounded just about divine after being stuck in the woods for a matter of days. Maybe, she thought to herself, going to the adults for help hadn’t been too terrible of an idea…
“Well then,” Merildir said, startling her from her thoughts. “Your heart is no longer beating too fast… can I suppose you’ve calmed down from the fright?” he asked, and suddenly his attention was fixed on her, and her alone.
It was mildly intimidating, she found – especially after she’d been on her own, besides the shades of her ancestors that was, for a little while. Since she’d died and been reembodied… She swallowed thickly at that.
“You weren’t nearly half as shy when you were trying to take out my kneecaps,” he stated, and it took Sakura a couple of moments to realise that he was teasing her. It had been quite some time since she’d been treated like a child, more so because she’d become an adult at twelve, unlike the civilians of the village. Would just how odd of a creature she was be revealed the moment she spoke? Sakura frowned, wondering then on just what a seventeen-year-old elf child was supposed to act like. “Are you going to leave all the talking to me?” he asked, smiling at her ever so indulgingly then as he started walking towards an unknown destination.
Sakura only watched, eyes darting about uncertainly as almost everyone who they passed turned to stare at her for at least a couple of seconds before continuing about their business.
“Aerion is quite efficient, so I believe a small bath for you will be ready sooner rather than later,” Merildir explained.
She stared at him, unable and just a bit unwilling to do or say anything besides sitting there quietly in his grasp. There were too many questions running rampant in her head, and she didn’t dare ask any of them aloud for fear of sounding strange. Sakura tilted her head, wondering where all those questions had been when she’d actually been alone – with time to ponder on her answers to them without fear of judgement.
“I will have to send for someone to bring you something else to wear,” he said, the sound of his voice oddly soothing to her all of a sudden. It was bizarre, to some part of her, that only a short while before, she had been terrified of those adult elves. Yet there she was, all of a sudden, feeling strangely safe in a near stranger’s arms. “We will wash that dress and any underclothes of yours,” Merildir added, as if to reassure her that one of the few possessions she had in that world would be returned to her in due time. Not that she had yet to lose it.
She had yet to see this delightful bath that was apparently being made – and yet Merildir made good on that promise. There was a small wooden half-barrel that had seemingly been repurposed for use as a bath tub – and she was just about small enough to use comfortably. It had been set up in the privacy of a small tent, and Sakura could only blink as Merildir pulled up a stool.
Then she remembered that seventeen for an elf was seemingly a young age – and that young children were incredibly capable of drowning if left to their own devices. Then there was the fact that she’d definitely proven herself a flight-risk. She tilted her head, staring at Merildir then.
“Do you need help removing that mucky dress of yours?” he asked, nothing but a gentle kindness in his eyes, and Sakura could only wonder about the Meriliel he’d mentioned before, who was at least two yéni old. She wondered what exactly a yéni was – was it some way of describing a year? Or was it something else? That was yet another question to add to the ever-growing pile of Things Sakura Wants to Know. Though her name was supposed to be Lúthris there. That was the name that had been given to her, and it was one of the few things she actually owned there in that strange place. Yet she had been Haruno Sakura for far longer, and the habit of calling herself that had stuck.
Shrugging at her own thoughts and the responsible adult in the room, she pulled her dress off over her head, grimacing at the particularly loud squelch it made when it fell to the ground. She climbed into the tub then, sighing softly at the warm water, and blinking as she was immediately offered a sponge. Merildir mimed scrubbing his own skin with it, watching to ensure she had got the message before he was rubbing something into her scalp. It brought back memories of her dad taking her to the mixed baths as a child. Her shoulders sunk, remembering then that those days were long behind her.
Her parents were dead.
Or at least she was dead to her parents in every sense of the word.
You chose this, part of her reminded, even as she scrubbed every inch of her skin and watched as a couple of days worth of filth leeched into the once-clean bathwater.
Hands scrubbed at her scalp, and Sakura found herself leaning into the touch, part of her attempting to throw away any and every morsal of shame that was trying to creep up on her. Her body was that of a child; one that had yet to go through puberty, and whatever the elven edition of that entailed. She blinked then, dread surfacing when she realised that someone would undoubtedly have to give her that talk.
Water washed away the shampoo and conditioner that had evidently been scrubbed into her hair, Merildir frowning at her all the while. “I presume none went in your eyes, given the lack of crying?” he asked, or rather presumed, and she only looked back at him and wondered when exactly she’d be able to pluck up the courage to talk.
Yet talking would only raise questions, and there were far too many questions that she didn’t either want or know how to answer. She had been reembodied, after all, and for all that her ancestors had mentioned another person being reembodied – who lived on those shores – she didn’t think it was common. Especially for a child of her apparent age there.
“You made a sacrifice of sorts,” the words that had been spoken to her what felt like an aeon ago rattled about in her brain, heart beating just a bit more frantically whenever she remembered what had happened after her death.
She had died, and undoubtedly that was a strange occurrence… and given how she was being treated right then and there, she doubted that anyone would react well if they found out she was a reembodied elf.
A hand tapping at her shoulder startled her out of her musings, head snapping around to find Merildir there, holding a towel out for her. “Child,” he spoke gently, ushering her out of the dirty water and utterly bundling her up in the towel. “Can you dry yourself?”
That, she could – and she did so, all the while spying what was evidently her change of clothes. It was an adult’s shirt that would reach her shins and a scrap of fabric to act as a belt, and sure enough, Merildir offered it to her once she was reasonably dry.
“We have asked for a set of underclothes to be made for you,” Merildir explained, frowning for a moment, even as she quickly pulled on her new clothes, covering herself up once more. “But they are having to be made from scratch… you are the smallest person in our camp now,” he remarked with a wry smile, reaching back down to pick her up.
Sakura let him, shivering ever so slightly when the cool outside air hit her wet hair – which had Merildir frowning and speeding up in his walk. Where was she being taken now? Sakura could only wonder, fingers clutching at the soft clothing of her apparent minder. Or at least he was the one who had seemingly taken charge of keeping an eye on her. She reached up then, nervously tugging on his collar then.
Dark brown eyes flickered onto her. “What is it?” he asked, tilting his head curiously, splitting his attention then between their route and her herself.
She tilted her head then, looking around, pointing at the two of them and making an enquiring gesture. It almost felt as though she was playing a game of charades; only she wasn’t in the comfort of her childhood home and she was surrounded by strangers. Though she supposed Merildir wasn’t quite a stranger. She knew his name, after all.
“Ah. Do you want to know what’s happening?” he asked, and Sakura nodded. “So you do understand me properly, then.” His words had her shrinking in on herself ever so slightly. “What is happening, dear one, is that word of your existence has finally reached the ears of the High King – or, rather, he learnt of your existence a short while ago, but you were a little dirtball who needed a bath – and now I am taking you to see him.”
Blinking rapidly, it took a moment for those words to sink in, and Sakura felt her stomach drop at the knowledge that she was about to see someone important. And soon, she mused, spying the largest tent she’d seen there in front of them all of a sudden.
There were two soldiers stationed outside the entrance flap, a heraldic banner flying in the gentle breeze beside them. One stood on either side of the entranceway, black and brown hair just about visible beneath the cap of their helmets. “Lieutenant Merildir,” one of them greeted, and her minder only nodded at them in greeting.
“High King Gil-galad is expecting me,” Merildir stated, his voice somehow lacking the tone it took when he was addressing her. Rather, there was a brevity to it; a command and a demand wrapped in one. “And my companion,” he added, a glimmer of amusement creeping into his gaze when he looked pointedly down at her.
“Right. Of course, sir,” the one on the left said, peeling back the entrance flap to grant them admission into that overly large tent.
Warmth was the first thing which hit her – the inside of that tent being considerably warmer than the outside – and her eyes took a few moments to adjust to the brighter light of the inside of that tent. Lanterns and candles provided the illumination, scattered about the large room of the tent, bathing her in the warm glow, and Sakura only blinked rapidly at the sudden change.
Movement caught her eye, head turning to spy three figures sat there in the U-shaped arrangement of a large chair and two sofa-like constructions. Merildir bowed to the one in the large chair, the motion evidently awkward with her in the way, but it told her then exactly who was the High King there.
His hair was dark, his eyes a pale, striking grey which settled on her almost instantly even as Merildir came out of his bow. “So this is the child who has been causing a stir amongst my camp?” the High King asked, a levity to his words as he beckoned the pair of them closer. “Set the child down, Merildir.”
Abruptly, Sakura found herself on her own two feet after what felt like a lifetime of being held up off the ground. The floor was carpeted, fabric flattening as she dug her toes into the soft surface, and she could only be grateful it wasn’t muddy and wet.
“I hear they found you in one of the food stores,” the High King spoke, and Sakura shrunk ever so slightly under that piercing gaze. The other two elves sat next to the king were also staring, and she decided that was three stares too many. She was annoyingly small, she mused, darting then behind the closest cover she could find: Merildir’s legs. Like an actual child, part of her brain informed her, and that thought had her pausing.
A hand found its way into her hair, ruffling the damp locks, and she risked a glance up at the ellon she had interacted with the most. “She has not spoken a word since we found her,” Merildir explained, and the silence that followed was almost damning. “She is… skittish, to say the least.”
“I see,” was High King Gil-galad’s only response, and Sakura shifted on her feet, nerves wiggling in her stomach like a nest of vipers had taken up residence.
Her stomach chose that moment to growl. Loudly. The silence that fell at the sound very much damning, and she could feel the beginnings of amusement from everyone bar herself at the noise. Heat rose in her cheeks, the soft chuckle which followed making her hide her face in her hands.
“Calithil,” the High King spoke, addressing the ellon with silvery hair sitting on his left. “Would you mind tending to the child?” he asked, but Sakura could see it for the order it was. “Merildir, give your report.”
There was a tray on a small table in front of the silver-haired ellon, and Sakura felt her eyes lock on it as the cover was removed. The scent of food immediately hit her like a punch to the gut, and her gaze flickered to the ellon guarding the food. Part of her was almost ready to throw hands for what smelt like some sort of stew.
“Child,” Calithil said, beckoning her closer with one hand. “This is for you,” he declared, and Sakura slunk out from the cover of Merildir’s legs, approaching the table warily, part of her acknowledging then that she probably would have been better off if she had outright asked those adults of her new people for help rather than scrambling around in the shadows and the mud.
Elurín had been far too paranoid and worrying, she decided, eyeing the space on the sofa cushion that Calithil was patting before jumping up onto the sofa and grabbing a hold of the spoon and shovelling the first mouthful of stew into her mouth.
Eluréd was now her favourite ancestor, she mused, swallowing her dinner before scrambling to grab the next spoonful, even as Calithil fluttered about next to her, looking mildly panicked, reminding her to, “Chew, so you don’t choke.”
Adult elves were helpful. They hadn’t imprisoned her – or cut off her hand for stealing food. Rather, they were providing her with more, and if she hadn’t tried to sneak around, she probably would have got her hands on that delectable, delicious bowlful of stew that much sooner.
Hindsight was a bitch.