Naruto (c) Masashi Kishimoto
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Madara opened the doors to the council chamber with a sharp authoritative snap. He was dressed in his most formal kimono, with his swords at his hip, and Sharingan spinning lazily in his eyes.
Madara's appearance alone was intimidating. Just two inches shy of six feet, he was muscular with the broad shoulders of a man that spent his life constantly fighting for it. He held himself like a god, tall and proud and walked with the self-assured confidence of a man comfortable with the knowledge that, though arrogant, had the skills to be backed up. Madara stopped a few feet in front of the low circular table. He remembered this room from his boyhood days, when it held the Council of Generals; when he and his brothers would scamper around after meetings pretending to be the mighty leaders of the Uchiha clan. Now the Council of Generals was gone, and the Council of Elders sat before him and he stared at all nine of them.
"What brings you before us, Madara-sama?" Mieko asked. Madara shifted his blood red eyes at the old woman, and was secretly pleased to see her flinch at the sight of his Sharingan. All nine elders knew who held the true power in the room, all nine knew that Madara was just biding his time before he disband them and seizes complete control of the clan. It was like poking a sleeping dragon and the dragon was beginning to stir.
"What brings me before this council, is that I have decided to take a wife," Madara announced in a tone of cool confidence.
There was the collective approval among the elders, glancing at each other and muttering softly, pleased that they were finally able to get their arrogant young leader to do something. Well, from most of them anyway.
"Is that so?" Yoshimaru said, he was one of the two that thought marrying Madara off was a horrible idea. He was an elderly man, old when Madara was a child and Madara was surprise the old gasbag didn't just croak already. Yoshimaru rubbed rheumy eyes as he stared at Madara. The old Uchiha's Sharingan was so scarred with cataracts that the dojutsu no longer improved his vision. "I don't see you as the type to take a wife, especially in you're prime."
"I've discussed the matter with my brother, Izuna, a few times and he has enlightened me on the benefits of taking a wife."
"And who shall be your bride?" Mieko asked softly, steepling her gnarly fingers before her. "Do you know any women that have caught your fancy? If not the Council has a girl in mind."
"I've reviewed the Council's logs and I have looked into the girl's background. I have found no girl worthy of my hand among the clan, so I'll be... satisfied with the girl the Council has chosen," Madara said with a nonchalant shrug. "I've talked to matter over with my brother, he concurs that taking a wife outside the clan is a wise choice."
"My granddaughter Sakuya, is a lovely thing! Just turned seventeen!" Ryo protested, he never agreed with marrying Madara to an outsider. "You really shouldn't take a woman from outside the clan!"
Madara's look withered the old man's protests. "And have babies born with birth defects? I think not! Adding some new blood to clan every few generations will not harm it. Besides, the girl will be trapped here under pain of death. If she were to leave, I'd be force to kill her because of the security risk that she poses. Simple as that. Any secrets of the Sharingan or of Uchiha blood that she may glean will never leave this clan." Madara said, effectively nipping the old man's protest in the bud. Ryo withdrew with a solemn nod, not wanting to challenge Madara.
"Why now?" Hiromi asked. "You've never shown any interest in taking a woman to wife before now?"
"I don't have to explain myself to the likes of any of you, just be content I'm going along with your idiotic plan," Madara's eyes narrowed. "I will be leaving for Hayashi Castle on the morrow. I must thank the council for already putting the arrangement into place, but I assure you that I can take it from here. I'm more than capable."
"Yes, of course, Madara-sama." The council murmured as one, like a pack of cowed dogs.
Madara chuckled darkly. "Good," Madara looked at them, "I hope something like this won't happen in the future," Madara warned before doing an about-face and walking out of the council chamber, a pleased smirk on his face.
"So, how did it go?" Izuna asked when Madara entered the clan leader's large house that housed only three people. Madara, Izuna, and their elderly uncle, Natori. Who was currently absent. There were two maids: Emi and Mio, but they didn't live in the house at left after the dinner dishes were cleaned.
"Ugh," Madara pinched the bridge of his nose. "One day, I'm going to butcher all those fools on the council."
"That well," Izuna chuckled lightly. Madara gave his brother an annoyed glare.
"We leave tomorrow for Hayashi Castle."
"Yes," Madara's lips twitched into an amused smirk, "Someone has to keep my head screwed on right. You know how much I hate politics," Madara said. "I just want to get this over with and return to the battlefield, where I feel truly alive."
Izuna nodded. "Yes forgot how much you enjoy your little dance sessions with Hashirama."
Madara felt his cheeks color briefly, "It is dancing Izuna! The dance between life and death! A fluid streamline form, with rhythm, time and meter! The symphony of destruction is the music I dance to. The cacophony of the battlefield is music to my ears that my feet fluidly move to."
"Oh, I didn't know you had a poetic side to you, dear Onii-san. Maybe you should take up haiku in your spare time."
"Izuna!" Madara barked, indignant with his brother's playful teasing. Izuna chuckled, backing off and allowing Madara to retreat to nurse his lightly bruised pride. "Hmph," Madara gave a small huff refusing to meet Izuna's laughing eyes. "Anyway, we should start packing. I want to leave at dawn tomorrow."
"Always in such a hurry," Izuna said with a shake of his head. Madara shot his brother a sharp glare. "Fine, you're the leader," Izuna raised his hands in surrender.
"Damn straight," Madara smirked, watching Izuna chuckle and leave the room. With a world weary sigh the clan leader began to pack.
Evening found Madara sitting on the veranda of his house, staring off into the distance. His eyes were focused on the gathering twilight of the sky, waiting for the silver orb of the moon to rise above the pine trees. He chewed on his pipe before drawing in the sweet smoke from the dried tobacco leaves. He sighed, smoke streaming out of his nostrils. He was relaxed yet ever alert, like a dozing cat. "Is it true?" a woman's voice asked.
Madara looked over his shoulder to gaze at the woman behind him. "You know I don't like people sneaking up behind me."
"You knew I was there."
"Regardless, I don't like people approaching me from behind," Madara said.
"Is it true then? About you getting married."
"Yes," Madara looked at his pipe before tapping out the burned out tobacco. He ignored the woman in favor of cleaning out the bowl of his pipe before tucking it back into his sash around his waist. "Why do you care anyways, Takara?"
Takara gave a small huff before briskly walking towards Madara in order to face him. "I..." she licked her lips trying to gather her thoughts. "I never thought you were the type to settle down."
"I planned on settling down," Madara said, flicking his gaze over the woman's face before turning it heavenwards again. "Eventually."
"I see," Takara sat down and wrung her hands. She was tall for a woman, three inches shorter than Madara, with a buxom figure and mousy brown hair that fell in natural waves. She had a square jaw and straight nose, delicate lips and sharp dark grey eyes of the Uchiha clan. "I thought..." Takara stopped, not wanting to finish the sentence.
"That it would be you?" Madara arched a brow in a bewilderment. "Whatever gave you that idea?"
"I just... you know... we... well," Takara rubbed her bare arm, her sleeveless qipao not offering any real protection against the chill spring night. "I love you," Takara whispered softly, fixing him with a devoted gaze. Madara chuckled softly, dangerously. It sent pleasurable little shivers up and down Takara's spine and she inched closer to the powerful warlord.
Madara took Takara's chin in his calloused hand and gently pressed his lips against hers. "You are naïve Takara," he breathed against her lips before kissing her again. "And foolish."
Takara frowned trying to pull away from his grasp but his grip tightened at the slightest evidence of movement, like a python killing it's prey. "I am not."
Madara gifted her with a viper's grin. "Keep telling yourself that."
Takara pulled away from him this time and crossed her arms over her ample chest, an angry pout on her lips. "When are you leaving?" she asked, nearly spitting the words out at him.
"Tomorrow," Madara sighed, "at dawn."
"What's her name? The special bitch that gets to marry you?"
"What your tongue Takara," Madara growled, eyes narrowing to dangerous slits. "She is to be your matriarch. Show her a drop of respect at least."
Takara sighed angrily through her nose as she closed her eyes. She took a few calming breaths before giving a firm nod. "As you command Madara-sama."
Madara frowned at her tone. He shifted and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her against his chest. "I don't like it when you use that tone with me buttercup," he murmured, nuzzling her brown hair. He pushed it away with his nose until the pale skin of her nape was exposed. "It doesn't suit you. Anger doesn't suit you." He pressed his lips against her neck, sucking at the soft skin.
Takara gasped, arching slightly. "Madara..." she moaned softly.
"Besides, my bride's name isn't important right now," he continued, one hand trailing it's way up to her breasts to need them while the other had found it's way under her skirt and was rubbing the smooth skin of her tone thigh. "It's an arrange marriage, so there will be no love between us. I doubt there ever will be." Madara said, needing one of her breasts through her clothes.
Takara whimpered when his fingers found their way to the velvet folds of her womanhood; a gasp escaped her through when he flicked his thumb across her sensitive nub. It took only a few moments for Madara's fingers to establish a comfortable rhythm that had Takara gasping lustfully, her hips moving in time. "Madara..." she murmured softly over and over between her erotic sighs. A comely blush was on her pale cheeks and her eyelids fluttering with pleasure.
The ministrations to her womanhood stopped suddenly and Takara gave a little grunting moan of protest, bucking against Madara's hand. Madara chuckled softly sucking on her ear and bucked against her, the tip of his erection pressing against the top of her butt. "I'm needy," he informed her darkly, flicking his thumb along her nub. Takara gave a shuddering moan. "Join me in bed?" he asked.
"Of course," she whispered, looking at him. Madara saw love and adoration in those black orbs. He made a face, that he was sure Takara would interpret incorrectly.
"Good," he stood up and headed into his bedroom, Takara following him like a lost puppy. He stripped, sighing in relief that he was no longer in pants. He pulled the cover of the futon back and sat down, his manhood erect and dripping with anticipation. Hungrily he watched Takara sensually remove her qipao.
Takara daintily shook her foot out of the folds of fabric before trotting over to Madara, her breast bouncing. She knew his eyes were running over her body, focusing on the tangle of hair between her legs before returning to her breasts. She fell onto the bed, a dreamy smile on her lips. Wasting no time the kunoichi spread her legs, her womanhood wet and inviting.
Madara smirked, before easing himself between her legs. He pushed into her warm wet heat gently groaning in delight. He began to thrust, setting out an easy rhythm for her to follow before picking up the pace.
They moaned and groaned, hips meeting each other and nails cutting little red furrows into pale skin, their bodies slick with sweat. Madara nipped Takara's skin and she'd return the gesture all the while he slammed into her, sending them both higher and higher, towards dizzying heights of blissful rapture.
Takara arched when she came, a soft scream of pleasure tearing itself from her throat, the muscles of her womanhood clenching around Madara in rhythmic pulses. The Uchiha leader came a few seconds later with a raspy cry, pulling out just in time to spill his seed on the sheets between her legs.
Madara stared down at her, his black hair in sweaty clumps and his arms shaky with the effort of holding his weight off of her delicate body. With a grunt he pushed himself to the side, landing with a soft thump on the futon. His lungs took in great gasps of breath and a yawn escaped his throat. "That was wonderful," Takara murmured as she snuggled against his side, ignoring the wet spot where he spilled his seed. She kissed his chest, then his throat, followed by his jaw before settling a soft kiss on his lips.
"Mmm," Madara made a content little nose, his eyes droopy, the tingles of orgasm still dancing along his skin. "Indeed," he agreed, pulling the woman close to him and settling into sleep.
He woke before dawn, Takara's naked body pressed up against his. Her head rested on his shoulder and his nose was buried into her hair. He could smell the scent of honeysuckles about her as well as that womanly scent. He lied there for a moment or two, stroking her hair, enjoying it's softness, until he remembered everything. Frowning, he gently wormed his way out of her embrace and began getting dressed, ignoring the soft whimper of complaint of the sleeping woman as she snuggled into the warm patch he left behind. Once he was sure that he had everything and double checking that all he required was either on his person or in the saddlebags by the door to his room. Madara left not bothering to care that when Takara awoke it was to an empty bed.
Yuzuki sat on the stone bench in the gardens. Sparrows fluttered about in the trees, singing cheerily to the sun. The girl however didn't share the same joy as the sparrows or other small little song birds in her father's garden. Her heart was heavy with dread. She was to be married to a monster: Uchiha Madara. It had only been a two days since Kameko informed Yuzuki of the impending nuptials and that her future husband was coming to the palace to collect her.
Yuzuki would grow terribly anxious whenever she thought about it, having to take deep calming breaths to calm down. Her mind running through horrible scenarios of what Uchiha Madara could do to her. They often involved him raping and murdering her, sometimes cannibalism. None of them were pleasant and she refused to tell anyone of her dreadful anxiety. Kameko had began to worry that Yuzuki may do something rash to escape the arranged marriage, so she ordered Ayami to watch her. The young noblewoman didn't like the pinch-faced old hag very much, and often ignored her, still Yuzuki kept a close eye on her step-mother's maidservant.
"It breaks my heart to see a flower wilt in the sun," a soft masculine voice said. Yuzuki turned around to see Iwanura Chusuke standing besides her.
"Chusuke-kun," Yuzuki breathed, a blush coloring her cheeks as she lowered her eyes demurely.
"Hime-sama," Chusuke inclined his head politely before taking a seat besides her. Yuzuki glanced swiftly at the pinch-faced handmaiden, frowning slightly upon realizing that the old crone was watching them like a hawk. "Why are you so sad?" Chusuke asked.
"I'm to be married," Yuzuki muttered bitterly, dark eyes honing in on the ground.
"Oh? To whom may I ask has the pleasure of wedding the most beautiful flower in Hayashi-sama's garden."
Yuzuki gave a dainty little laugh, a sparkle dancing in her eyes before saying: "Chusuke-kun, you flatter me to much."
"It's not flattery when it's the truth," Chusuke gave her a charming smile.
"I'm to be wed to Uchiha Madara," Yuzuki finally said. Chusuke sucked in a breath. He heard of the Uchiha clan and their barbarism.
"Is this true?" he asked. Yuzuki nodded, biting her lip to fight against the swell of emotions. She fought it down as she took a few gulps of air.
"It is true. He should be here tomorrow or the day after. He and my father will discuss the last pieces of the arrangement Once the onmyouji choose a date and the nobles have gathered we will wed. I'll leave day after the wedding."
"Yuzuki," Chusuke's voice was indignant, but he kept his outrage over the fact that he wasn't even among the potential suitors for Hayashi Yuzuki's hand hidden from her. In all honesty, she was just another bedroom conquest to him and he and really no desire to marry. "I'm sorry that you have to marry a shinobi. What was your father thinking? It's social suicide! Marrying down in such a fashion!"
"I know," Yuzuki replied, her anger at the fact that she'd be reduce to nothing more than a... a mere peasant after her wedding was bubbling up in her chest. She took a deep breath to calm herself. "It's my duty and honor. I may not be happy but I will marry him, it's my duty to my house and father."
Chusuke wished he could touch her chin, to make her look at him. Yet that wouldn't be proper, Yuzuki's family outranked his, though he was male her social standing was higher than his. Customs and traditions wouldn't allow such a sinful act. Then again, customs and tradition never stopped him. "I feel that such a practice is wrong and outdated. You shouldn't have to be sold like a horse at auction. You are a person and should be treated with respect and dignity and honor."
Yuzuki looked at him, a melancholic smile on her lips. "Thank you... that's very sweet Chusuke-kun but our world doesn't work like that."
"Well, maybe it should," he said with a smile.
"I... I have... I have been meaning to tell you something," Yuzuki looked away from him. "It... maybe my fate can be changed," she whispered.
"Yes," Chusuke held his breath.
"Chusuke-kun," Yuzuki said, turning her gaze back upon the brown eyed man. She remembered when she first saw his brown eyes, how they had drawn her in and she always felt herself getting lost in them. "I..." she licked her lips, "I love you."
"You do?" Chusuke leaned forward, trying to close some of the distance between him and the princess. He could smell her perfume of jasmine. This was too perfect, really. The girl was drunk on her affection for him, which only worked to advantage. Now all he had to do was say a few convincing words and some gentle prodding, get her away from the old crone and into a secluded out of the way bedroom and he'd be able to conquer her. Then he could break her heart without any regrets. "I never realized."
"Yes, I do."
"Hime-sama!" the old crone snapped, briskly walking up to her and Chusuke, effectively putting an end to their conversation, much to Chusuke's annoyance and frustration.
"Ayami!" Yuzuki stared at the maid, her earrings swayed with the movement of her head.
"What is the meaning of this? Speaking to a man with such a reputation as his without a guardian."
"Hime-sama," Chusuke looked at his knees, pretending to be hurt, "I do not have such a reputation but if your chaperon insists, I will take my leave."
"Yes, you must," Ayami sniffed, her cold brown eyes boring holes into Chusuke. The young nobleman stood up, bowed low to Yuzuki before leaving. Chusuke kept his anger hidden and in check the entire time he walked away. Once he was alone, he'll summon a maid and take his anger out on the defenseless and innocent wench.
Yuzuki felt the breath catch in her lungs and pain grip her heart, she rounded on Ayami. "Are you happy now?" Yuzuki snapped, anger coloring her words.
"It's for the best, Hime-sama, you are soon to be married," Ayami replied, giving the young woman a smile she hoped was gentle. "You must remain pure and have no reason for someone to question your purity."
"But I love him!" Yuzuki protested.
"We all must make sacrifices for honor and filial duty," Ayami bowed her head, "and most often it is love that gets sacrificed."
"I hate you," Yuzuki spat before getting up and briskly leaving the gardens to return to her private chambers. Ayami sighed, before following the young woman.
"It's so... grandiose," Izuna stated staring at the large gate and walls surrounding the palace. They stank of road dust and horses, and both young men were tried, wanting nothing more than to sleep before meeting with their host.
"They are nobles, Izuna," Madara shrugged, "what do you expect."
"Okay, but... this is way too much," Izuna pointed out. "Those wall don't look like they can even hold back a flood."
"The nobles like to flaunt their wealth and illusion of affluence, when in reality they are utterly dependent upon us, to protect them." Madara said, a frown on his face. "They are weak and pathetic, hiding behind walls design more for show than protection. Talking down to the men and women that give their blood to keep them safe behind their weak bulwarks."
"That's all very well and true, but without the nobility we would starve. They pay us."
"Less than what we rightfully deserve."
"Regardless, they still pay us. We are a major clan, thus we get more than a clan like Haruno."
"They collect shinobi clans like a girl does dolls. Every noble house wants a kekkei genkai clan, so he can brag about his powerful clan of fearsome shinobi to his rivals. We are mere pawns to them, throw-away soldiers."
"And you don't play them the way they play us?" Izuna leaned over the pommel of his saddle, his head cocked toward Madara, a knowing smirk on his lips. "Besides, you are stalling. We better make our presents known."
"Izuna," Madara's voice was soft, his grip tight on the reins of his horse.
Madara opened his mouth, before closing it with a shake of his head. "Never mind, it was unimportant. Let's get this over with."
"Right," Izuna nodded. The two shinobi headed to the gate.
Lord Hayashi Keiichi was the third son of his father, and by rights would never had inherited his holdings. Yet Keiichi was cunning. He eliminated his two elder brothers, and anyone other possible rival for the position of lordship, hence securing his position. His only mistake was Nozomi. Yet the woman had died of pneumonia eleven years ago. He swiftly remarried to Kameko, to cover up the fact that he had gotten the woman pregnant out of wedlock, thus saving face. Now, he kept his heartache over Nozomi's death hidden, and drowned himself with opium and the comforts of male and female lovers. He had no desire to touch Kameko ever again.
"Father, the shinobi of the Uchiha clan have arrived," Kyosuke informed him. Keiichi looked at his eldest child and was rather pleased with what he saw. Kyosuke had a firm jaw and regal nose. Dark brown eyes that held an inquisitive fire and a sharp tongue behind narrow lips. He was broad of shoulder and skilled with a sword by a noble's standards. Kyosuke wore a simple yet elegant man's kimono, his raven wing black hair tied in a topknot.
"Well, have the servant bring them here," Keiichi wheezed. If Kyosuke learned that he was smoking opium again, there would be trouble.
"Yes Father," Kyosuke said, he rose to his feet and gave a low bow before briskly walking off to bring the shinobi into the antechamber. Keiichi was pleased with Kyosuke, though he didn't have high hopes for his other son, Akihiko. The boy was a wimp. A fat sniveling child that couldn't even take a scolding without crying. No. Akihiko wouldn't do at all, he'd have to get another brat off of Kameko again once Sakuya was whined, even though he swore never to touch the bitch again. Even Yuzuki was better behaved at Akihiko's age than Akihiko is. It was pathetic really. Keiichi only hoped that this marriage between Yuzuki and this upstart shinobi would bear fruit. The spirits only knew how badly the Hayashi needed a shinobi clan to their name.
Kyosuke squared his shoulders and took a deep breath before motioning to the servant to open the door, allowing the two shinobi to enter. The first thing he noticed about the two men were their blood red eyes and the black tomoe spinning lazily around their black pupils. Kyosuke tasted bile in the back of his throat. He heard of such those blood red eyes from the Senju shinobi that came to the castle. The Sharingan Mirror Wheel Eye; there was another name as well, the Demon's Gaze. Kyosuke had no doubt as to why shinobi feared the Uchiha, even Kyosuke was a bit frightened. Then as if realizing that their frightening Sharingan was not needed, their eyes seemed to fade to back to black. Kyosuke gulped, utterly unnerved by it.
Regardless of his unease, the young man had to do his duty. "Good day mighty shinobi," he bowed low, "it is a great honor that you grace us with your presences."
"Good day," the younger of the two shinobi replied, while the elder simply inclined his head, eyes wandering around the room. Kyosuke studied to the two men, unsure about them, then again he never seen Uchiha shinobi, only heard gruesome stories about them.
"Uchiha-san, my father requests to speak with you on some last minute details concerning the arrangement. If you'd come this way, please."
"Very well, when does he wish to discuss such matters? I wish to return to my clan as soon as possible," the elder said, slight contempt in his voice.
"Completely understandable, Uchiha-san. I assure you, we wish to keep you no longer than necessary. Come, this way please." Kyosuke motioned them to follow him and the two ninja fell in step behind him. He led them to the antechamber before turning and bowing to them. "Wait here, please."
"Fancy door," Madara folded his arms over his chest. His armour creaking slightly.
"Erm... I've never really noticed before," Kyosuke said glancing at the orientate door. "I must announce you to my father."
Madara nodded, use to pomp and circumstance. He had to suffer through it every time he went to visit Eiji. Kyosuke bowed to them once before slipping inside. "It is a fancy door," Izuna added, looking at the door as well before glancing at a few servants. "Do you think they think we're country bumpkins?" he asked, looking at his brother.
"Probably, especially at how we're gawking at some dumb door," Madara shrugged. He didn't really care anyway what they thought of him, he could slaughter them all if he wanted to. Kyosuke returned a few minutes later.
"My father will see you now, this way please," he said, beckoning the two brothers to follow him. Madara and Izuna looked at each other, shrugged and followed Kyosuke.
Madara looked upon Keiichi with a look of mild annoyance on his face, Kyosuke bowed before his father. "I present to you, Uchiha Madara and Uchiha Izuna of the Uchiha clan," Kyosuke said.
"Greetings, Madara and Izuna," Keiichi nodded, watching his son join him. "I thank you for accepting my invitation and my daughter's hand."
"No," Madara went to his knees and kowtowed before Keiichi, grinding his teeth as he did so. He hated prostrating himself before fat fools like Keiichi, but he'll bite the bullet and play the part of a submissive servant for their entertainment, he was a good actor after all. "The pleasure is all mine," he rose and gave Keiichi his most winning smile. "And I'm greatly honored that you would give me your daughter's hand."
"You honor me too much, Madara-san," Keiichi chuckled, but his eyes glinted dangerously, matching the same glint in Madara's eyes. Kyosuke and Izuna both watch the exchange with bated breath.
"There is one matter that requires discussing," Keiichi said.
"What is that?" Madara asked, his lips twitching downwards slightly.
"The contract between my family and your clan."
"Simple. Upon marrying your daughter, my clan will be under the monetary support of the Hayashi family along with our own daimyo, Morimoto Eiji, who was your late wife's nephew I do believe." Madara said. Keiichi gave a small affirming nod. "We will accept commissions from Hayashi and Morimoto first above all others, and you are able to sell out our clan's services to your allies, if you so choose. We of course get a fifteen percent cut of the deal if you do sell our services," Madara pulled out a rolled piece of parchment and handed it to a servant. "The details are all in here, if you have any more questions. Those are the Uchiha's terms. Anything less and you'll have to find a new suitor for your daughter."
Keiichi didn't say anything at first as he took the parchment from the servant, broke the seal and read it. He frowned, wrinkles appearing around his face. "You do drive a hard bargain, Uchiha," Keiichi said.
"Well," Madara chuckled softly, "we are the best clan."
"We aren't a wealthy family... not like the Morimoto."
"I don't expect the Hayashi to fully support us. Just make our lives a bit more comfortable. We are a mercenary army, willing to lend our ninjutsu and blades to the highest bidder. Of course, we can't survive without the support of a noble family, hence we are bound to the Morimoto family. They auction off our talents to the highest bidder or use us themselves to fight their wars. That's the way the system works. Each major noble house has it's own shinobi clan. Minor families like you pool your money into the funds that the main house has for it's shinobi clan. And I receive the yearly allotment of funds, plus whatever my shinobi have earned during the course of the year doing missions and fighting battles," Madara explained.
"I see," Keiichi murmured. "It seems reasonable enough. I'll speak with Morimoto-sama. I'm sure he'll find no fault."
"Good. Now my bride."
Keiichi nodded, and motioned a servant over. "Go bring my daughter here."
"Yes, sir," the servant said with a quick bob before running off.
Yuzuki watched the servant open the door to her father's receiving chamber, the soft light bathing her in it's glow. Head held high she stepped out onto the polished wood floor, tabi socks muffling the sound of her dainty steps, causing the train of her kimono to flutter. She kept her eyes lowered as was proper and upon reaching the men she bowed low. "It's an honor to meet you, Uchiha Madara," Yuzuki said politely and lifted her chin to look at the man she was to marry and gasped.
Chapter 2 done! Yay!
What will happen? The couple have their first meeting and Yuzuki is surprised to see Madara? Is it because of his Sharingan? His dashing good looks? All and more will be revealed in chapter three! Stay tuned!
And what about the Senju? Will Madara and Hashirama play nice? Or end up destroying the palace in an epic dance-off, I mean, battle!?