Title: The Piper's Dance
Author: desbutterfly
Theme(s): #22 – Once Upon a Time
Pairing/Characters: Orochimaru/Kimimaro
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer/claimer: Kishimoto owns Naruto.
Summary: There are many that follow Orochimaru, but Kimimaro is different.

'Very well,' said the Piper, and he smiled a quiet smile. With that he laid his pipe to his lips afresh, but now there came forth no shrill notes, as it were, of scraping and gnawing, and squeaking and scurrying, but the tune was joyous and resonant, full of happy laughter and merry play. And as he paced down the streets the elders mocked, but from school-room and playroom, from nursery and workshop, not a child but ran out with eager glee and shout, following gaily at the Piper's call. In and out among the oak trees you might catch glimpses of the Piper's many-coloured coat. You might hear the laughter of the children break and fade and die away as deeper and deeper into the lone green wood the stranger went and the children followed.

- excerpt from The Pied Piper

There were others there, in Orochimaru's house. Children, like himself, maybe even younger although it was hard to tell. They all looked the same to Kimimaro: bruised, ragged, hard-eyed children who stared at him as he paced behind the Sannin, trying to keep up with his new master's long strides.

One of them—a pink-haired dirty-faced girl—scowled at him and made a rude gesture with her hands. He heard a whisper of "prissy little brat" behind him and frowned, but he did not turn to look. He wasn't unused to being taunted, after all, though the lack of respect for his ability was disturbing.

He was used to taunting with an edge of fear, not blatant, childish rudeness.

"This is Kabuto," Orochimaru said, gesturing at the young teen stepping forward. "He may not look like it, but he is a very talented medic-nin. He'll be overseeing your nutrition and while you stay with me. I want your body healthy, after all."

Orochimaru's fingers slid through Kimimaro's hair in an affection touch, and the boy couldn't help the pleased flush that spread over his cheeks. He bowed politely to Kabuto and then followed Orochimaru further into his quarters.

The Sannin murmured something to a servant on the way in, and then turned to Kimimaro with a smile.

"Now," he said, "it has been a long journey for you. I think a bath shall be the first thing, and then I shall dress you in something becoming your new position as my chosen."

It was a bit strange to disrobe in front of someone, but any awkwardness Kimimaro felt at the situation was soon washed away with the soothing perfumed waters of the bath. For the first time, the grunge of the cave and blood was cleansed from his body, and Kimimaro began to feel like something human…something pure.

Orochimaru calmly helped him wash the dust from his hair, his long white fingers closing gently about Kimimaro's neck as he brought him back into the water and rinsed the soap from his face.

Then the man wrapped him in warm towels and dried the beads of moisture from his skin until Kimimaro stood before him, fresh and naked and dry.

"You are very beautiful," Orochimaru said, hands trailing softly across Kimimaro's chest before he stepped away and pulled several garments of some rich material from a drawer.

"This will be an attractive setting for my precious jewel."

Kimimaro touched the cloth hesitantly; unsure of whether or not he should be permitted to wear such finery.

"Can I really wear this?" he asked.

Orochimaru's smile widened and he started to draw the silk kimono over the boy's shoulders. Kimimaro held out his arms obediently and stood still as Orochimaru dressed him.

"Not only can you wear this," A thick length of purple rope was tied snugly about his waist. "But you must wear this. It will show others that you are mine."

Kimimaro nodded, then thought back to the dirty children he'd passed on the way in.

"Those other children," he asked, "are they also yours?"

"Yes," Orochimaru said. "Everyone in Oto is mine."

"Why are they not dressed as fine as I am?"

Orochimaru's fingers curled around his chin and Kimimaro felt his head being tipped upwards, so that he was staring directly into a set of cold, snake-like eyes.

"Because they are not as special as you, Kimimaro-kun. Never forget that."

Later, when the little pink-hair girl tried to attack him with her flute, Kimimaro slammed her against the ground, put a razor-sharp shinbone to her throat, and repeated Orochimaru's words to her.

It took breaking a few bones of the other children, one punctured lung, and several deep wounds before the lesson was learnt well-enough to not need repeating.

When, at night, the other children would kneel before Orochimaru and accept his hand on their heads, his rebukes and his praises, and finally a mark that claimed them even more than the braided rope around their waists, Kimimaro watched and felt no jealousy.

He knew that no other child in Oto was touched, and praised, and marked like Orochimaru touched, and praised, and marked Kimimaro.

He was the chosen one.

All the while, the elders watched and waited. They mocked no longer now. And watch and wait as they might, never did they set their eyes again upon the Piper in his parti-coloured coat. Never were their hearts gladdened by the song and dance of the children issuing forth from amongst the ancient oaks of the forest.

-

Fin.