AN: Hello everyone! Thank you for the lovely reviews and the patience you've all had in waiting for this chapter. Just to warn everyone: this fic is supposed to be set in a medieval kind of place where woman are, you know, not given a crap about. Also, just so you all are aware, while this is set in a world unlike our own in a time unlike our own, Temari and everyone else is fairly modern. I'm not trying to remain true to the past with proper language. So yeah. No reviews going all, "Omg like, people didn't say half the words you included." I know. I am well aware of the fact. Everyone is modern in thinking and speech in a fairly un-modern world.

Enjoy! And have a merry Christmas, happy hannukkah, happy kwanzaa, happy festivus, and a wonderful New Year.

Chapter II
In Which the Princess is Informed of her Groom-to-Be

The Kingdom of Suna was famous for its desert heat, its exotic silks, and its relentless winds. It was also famous for having the most temperamental and explosive royal family of any kingdom in the entire world.

"You have lost your mind," Temari declared, her blue-green eyes narrowed dangerously.

Her father simply waved his hand in the air, dismissing her claim entirely. "Regardless of whether my mind is lost or not, you will do as I say, and you will marry this boy."

"Over my dead body!" A strange wind rustled the long, family-crested curtains that hung behind the throne. Some of the servants that were nervously cleaning around the room and acting like they couldn't hear a thing stood paralyzed as the wind ruffled their hair.

"That, Temari, can be easily arranged. But as I see your death will accomplish nothing, your life will be of much better use if you remain alive."

"I won't do it." She declared it with so much certainty that, to any onlookers, it would seem that she would get her way.

"But you will."

Temari growled, the fire in her eyes intensifying. "No. I refuse! This is absolutely out of the question!"

"You, Temari, are simply a woman. You have no opinion and you have no power. You are my first born, much to my regret, and because of your responsibility as princess, you will do what is required of you for your kingdom. You will not become queen of Suna. You will not hold any power here. But I am allowing you a freedom with this marriage. And because you will do as I say, because you are princess and because you are part of this kingdom, you will marry the future king of Konoha and you will do it without complaint."

The small monologue temporarily paralyzed her. For starters, her father rarely exchanged a word to her, let alone a complete sentence. And then, much to her own horror, her father was right, as much as she hated to admit it. She was the first born, yes, and incredibly intelligent and talented at things men often were supposed to be, but she remained female in every way of the word with absolutely no hold on any kind of power. Her only bet on being able to do anything was to do what he requested and marry into someone else's family and hope that they cared for her like they would a pet, at the very least.

What a way to live as a woman.

She gritted her teeth angrily, glaring down at the man she hated with every fiber of her being. "I don't care what you do to me, I will not marry him!"

Her father's eyes flashed with a fire she knew was deadly. "So be it."

And that was how Temari found herself in the dungeons.

Granted, her father, or most probably her servants, had been nice enough to provide some silk cushions and oriental rugs and a blanket made of the finest wool for her comfort, but she was still in the dungeons. Where there were rats. And while she was far from the damsel in distress and she didn't really mind the outdoors or getting down and dirty, or even dungeons, she would have preferred the opportunity to change iout/i of her favorite gown (the least frilly and girly) and into something more appropriate for dungeon wear. Like her wedding dress. So it could be utterly ruined. Forever.

She punched the stone wall out of frustration and didn't even wince as it scraped the skin off her knuckles.

This was just her luck. Count on her to be used as the bait for a treaty. Her brother Kankurou was more than willing to marry anyone, as long as the girl was good looking and wouldn't mind being used like a sex slave. Even Gaara seemed to be more open to marriage, though she couldn't really tell because whenever he was approached by the subject, he would only stare and stare, and that kind of response was usually a no or a yes.

So this was fabulous. Great. Wonderful. It wasn't like she had a life plan already or anything (she did). It wasn't like her opinion mattered (it really didn't). It wasn't like she was human or something (she was…mostly).

"Princess…"

She snapped her head towards the voice, narrowing her eyes to try to focus her eyes on the shadowy figure on the other side of the dungeon bars. "What?"

"Your father implores you concede to his request."

Temari snorted. "Did he really?"

The servant hesitated for a long moment before sighing in defeat. "No, but he did request you obey his order before he decides to send you off in the morning."

The blonde scowled. So the man had decided to send her off anyway, regardless of how she felt. What a wonderful father. "So I absolutely have no choice."

"None whatsoever, Princess. Please, do not spend your last night in this castle on the dirty, dungeon floors."

She rolled her eyes and sat back against the stone walls, crossing her arms around her chest. "I don't care. I shall remain here all night if I must. And when it gets late and the guards are asleep, I'll scream and make noise so that when they come up to check on me, I'll deck them in their faces."

"That is not becoming of a Princess." The servant bowed before disappearing from the dark.

"Yeah well, this is me not caring!"

And so Temari ripped off her dress.

And remained in her undergarments.

And was cold for the rest of the night.

Damn her luck.

The King of Suna was renowned for being an asshole.

Especially to his children.

The next morning, Temari was shaken awake by a leering guard before being dragged out of the dungeons and into a carriage without even being given the chance to shower or, you know, wear something. She was thrown into a carriage the moment the sun was up, and before long, she was on her way to the country of her future husband.

The journey was not pleasant. In fact, it was long, and dry, and hot and then freezing cold, and she was still not wearing a damn thing with only her caretaker, Baki-san, sitting awkwardly across from her.

"You know, I'm not going to marry him."

Baki-san shook his head. "You're only making this more difficult for yourself."

"I still won't do it. My life will not be governed by some man."

"Temari, you are a woman. There is no such thing as a woman living a life of freedom."

To prove her point, she removed her blanket—the only thing keeping her undergarments from view—and beared her teeth. "There. I am a free woman, and no one will tell me to have some shame and cover myself."

"I will. Princess Temari, you are the worst example of a woman I have ever met, now will you please put your blanket on?"

"Do I make you uncomfortable?"

Baki-san barked a laugh. "Hardly. I am not exactly a man interested in women."

And so Temari decided that if she could not escape her fate before meeting her betrothed, then she would make an escape when she did meet him. She would formulate a plan—a plan so sneaky, a plan so wild, that her future husband will be so terrified and so unwilling to marry her that he would run away without looking back.

"I don't like that grin on your face," Baki-san noted, watching her wearily with dark eyes. "I am sure your future husband will be horrified with whatever you're planning."

Temari's smile widened as she sat back and relaxed. "Good. I'm counting on it."

That was when the carriage jolted to a stop.

The door on Temari's side was pulled wide open, a dark haired, smiling servant standing on the other side, wearing bright colors Temari was unused to seeing in the form of clothing.

"Welcome to Konoha, Princess Temari! I am Lee, the Youthful Green Beast of Konoha!" He kept smiling, seemingly unbothered by her lack of dress. "You are to be presented to the King and Queen, as well as their son, your future husband."

"Now?" she exclaimed.

"Now?" Baki-san also asked.

Lee nodded youthfully ecstatic. "Yes!"

Temari barely had time to register what the bushy-eyebrowed guy was saying, let alone grab her blanket, when she was hauled out of her carriage and marched through the giant, beautiful palace, up a grand, white staircase, down long hallways with lush carpets, and finally pushed into the a large, circular room with a crystal chandelier that seemed larger than the one in her own home.

It was only at the sound of someone clearing their throat that Temari bothered registering her other surroundings. Like the three figures seated before her, wearing clothing she could have easily beat with her own. Except, she was still not wearing any.

"So you're the princess Temari."

It was spoken by the woman, the Queen, much to Temari's surprise. Granted, the King looked terribly small, frail and weak in his too-big clothing with his pale face and clouded eyes.

"Unfortunately," she responded.

The boy sitting to the right grimaced. She focused her attention on him, on his tall ponytail and his angular face, and the way he seemed almost feminine, except in the set of his jaw. He met her eyes with his own dark, slanted eyes, and stared openly at her before smiling smugly.

"Do you opt to go out in public without clothes often?" he asked, and she was shocked by the sound of his voice—so low, so masculine.

Until she registered his words.

"Yes. I hope you don't mind once we're married."

He shrugged. "Whatever."

His mother seemed absolutely appalled. "I am sorry to inform you, young lady, but as long as you live in this house, you will be wearing proper clothes."

Temari let a smile tug at the corner of her lips. "Your son, I'm sure, wouldn't mind if I decided not to wear clothes."

The Queen opened her mouth but was quickly interrupted by her son.

"Actually, I would prefer if you wore clothes. I mean… I'm not a fan of muffin-tops."

Temari's smile instantly slipped as she looked down and eyed her stomach, only to find it completely flat.

She growled.

That little bastard! He was playing tricks on her!

He was already playing his own game on how to get rid of her.

It wouldn't work. If there was going to be any getting rid of, it would be on her part.

"Shikamaru! What did I tell you about speaking?" his mother screamed.

The boy, Shikamaru, shrugged and let his eyes concentrate on the ceiling.

"Boy, don't say that," came the quiet reprimand from his father. "Your future wife has one heck of a body, from what I can see."

Shikamaru's dark eyes stared at her sharply, and she felt oddly out of place beneath his scrutiny. She grinded her teeth and crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently as he obviously observed her.

"She's okay. I don't really see the big deal about girls and bodies and stuff. Besides, you're not really in the position to talk about seeing, Pops."

"Have you been with a girl, boy?"

The Queen elbowed her husband, causing him to cough. "Don't ask that in front of his wife!"

"I'm not married to that thing yet," Temari remarked, distaste laced in her words like venom.

"No way have I been with a girl," he answered his father, before turning his gaze back onto the blonde. "And trust me, the feeling is mutual."

"Why you little—"

"Shikamaru! Stop behaving like a brat! I spent forty-two hours in labor for you!"

"Honey, don't get agitated…"

"You're the one who makes him all lazy!"

"Mom, Pops is dying, give him a break."

"Don't talk to me—"

"You'll get an aneurism if you—"

"Yeah, yeah, Mom, alright—"

Temari's eyes seemed ready to pop out of her sockets as they went back and forth from person to person as the onslaught of words kept spilling out. At one point, the Queen flung a dainty shoe aimed at Shikamaru's head, which he easily dodged, causing a slew of threats on his mother's part, with the King looking on amused and obviously sick.

There was only one thing to do.

So Temari fainted.

It took a few minutes, and the King to say, "I think she fainted…" before the fighting ceased and everyone realized the future Queen of Konoha was currently lying flat on the floor.

"Seems she needs some rest," the Queen observed, though she sounded far from concerned. "Take her to her room, Shikamaru."

"Yeah, yea—wait, what?"

"You heard your mother."

"I'm not touching her."

"She's not a bug," his mother retorted.

"You don't know that," he said, eyeing the sprawled body on the floor with narrowed eyes.

"Shikamaru." It was a warning. For sure death.

"Fine. Sure. Send your only son into uncharted territory. What if she wakes up and thinks I'm taking inappropriate advantage of her?"

"Just explain yourself," his mother retorted.

Shikamaru grumbled as he stood slowly, walking down from his chair, all the while glaring at the crumpled body he knew perfectly well was not unconscious. "Knowing my luck, she'll try taking advantage of me."

He kneeled, poking the body with a finger and groaning when there was no response on Temari's part. He'd done enough research in the week since he'd discovered he was marrying her to know she was a temperamental, incredibly wily and intelligent female and Princess, with looks that, according to many of the males that he'd talked to around the castle and in town, could make any man come to his knees. He didn't know whether he agreed with the statement quite yet, but from the looks of her body (and her undergarments were the thinnest he'd ever seen, even in some of the questionable magazines he found in his father's private study) she was the kind of woman he liked.

He poked again, just for good measure, and when there was still no response, hoisted the woman onto his shoulders and began walking.

Once they were clear of the meeting room, Temari lifted her head, whispering near his ears, "And just for the record, I would never take advantage of you."

She winced as she hit the floor, Shikamaru having dropped her. "Good. I guess you can make it to your room from here."

He blinked a second later as her fist came in contact with his cheek. "Good. I guess you can say you got that from falling down the stairs while carrying me."

They glared at each other. When servants were later interviewed about the scene, many would claim that if looks could kill, the two would have been lying in a pool of their own blood with their heads on pikes.

"Let it be known that I will never marry you," Temari hissed dangerously.

"As I will never marry you," Shikamaru declared in return, his own eyes darkened with intense dislike.

The two remained like that for twelve seconds before they harrumphed and turned on their heels.

Their battle had begun.