Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Naruto. They are the property of their respective owners. I don't own anything really….so sad.
Summary: Voldermort has two important guests over for a business meeting.
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The light given off form the fire place and the wizard fire surrounding the grand room give it a soft, beautiful aurora to the otherwise decrepit room. The soft and steady light coming from the wizard fire reflects off of the ebony cloaks of the Death Eaters. Even a casual observer can see the green paint that highlights the eyes and lips of these Death Eaters; the mark of an Inner Circle member.
These twenty members of the Inner Circle are split equally in half on either side of the room, leaving an obvious pathway form the door, to their master who sits as regally as a semi-reptilian man can. Voldermort sits in his ancient stone raised throne dressed in black Egyptian cotton and black silk robes, which holds very small highlights of deep emerald green at the hemlines. Black and other dark colors are all that are left for the onetime handsome man to wear to go along with his ghoul white skin and sharp, fearsome looks.
The black oak floor has been shined and cleaned within an inch of its life, and the various house elves lives as well. The shin of the dark hard wood is slightly…off, somehow. No scuff, mark, nor dust bunny is in sight, but an odd, faded hue is visible in the wood. A dull…old hue. It is the color of hardwood, that was at one time well cared for, but not in a hundred years or more. It was the color of wood, ungracefully aged.
The stone walls had received the same treatment as the floor. No speck of dust dared caress the curvature of a pitted stone, and no spider webs clung in the corners. The walls just as the floor, shows its age. The walls show where people once ran their hands across them; and reclined against the wall all those long years ago. While the wall do not have any body shaped indentions like the ancient throne Voldermort now sits upon with his withered from in, it shows its age in yet another way.
The stones below five feet are slick from years of use. The stones seem to have an almost slick or oily appearance to them. Above this point, the stones are jagged and rough and seem to have aged not at all, unlike their lower brethren. Higher up the ceiling, you can see two lone spider skitter across the wall in search of a new building site.
The scene that greeted the guests was planned to be a show of strength, meant to cow allies and prisoners alike with a show of force and unity. To the newcomers, however, it just showed an underground movement too scared of official repercussions to be in a place of real importance and followers too scared of each other and, more importantly, their own leader to add anything to the organization besides their roles as a lunatic's cannon fodder.
The newcomers stood in the doorway, silently surveying the other occupants. They stand side by side within the frame of the doorway. Both are wearing identical oddly designed black robes that are sporadically dotted with maroon clouds and wide brimmed hats made of thatch.
The "robes" cover much of their bodies': their necks, hand and knees. Black, soft soled shoes cover their feet and calves. The only discernible differences between the two is their height; one about 6'4" and the other at 5'11", and that the taller of the two is in the possession of a large bandage wrapped sword that is strapped onto his back.
As the two slowly glide forward, the bell on the shorter one's hat is finally noticed. The newcomer's bell does not make a sound as they approach the throne. They stop at the base of the throne and wait on Voldermort to speak first.
"It isss consssidered bad mannerss in our culture to not ssshow your facce to whom you are sspeaking. Asss well asss wearing a hat indoorss." Voldermort finally says in his sibilant voice, after several moments spent observing his guests.
A short, harsh laugh is heard from the taller guest. "We couldn't care less about your culture or being rude. If you wanted polite mercenaries so green they willingly show their face to anyone who asks, then you should have contacted someone else."
The taller man's rough mocking voice is immediately cut off by the smaller's hand genteelly touching his cloak. The taller mercenary slumps into a more relaxed stance as his counterpart takes over, in his smooth, apathetic, baritone.
"My partner and I are here at the behest of our leader to conclude our business dealings with you and your organization. You should have been aware of the standing and demeanor of the type of people under Leader-sama's authority. We are more hindered when others know our faces." The shorter man falls silent after his brief monolog, during which his bell did not emit a single sound.
"Yeah, and it's not like your…minions here are anymore polite. At least we're not as obvious about not wanting to be known." The taller mercenary says in his abrasive manner. "By the way, how do you tell each other apart? Just yell out each other's name until you find how you are looking for?" The Death Eaters and Voldermort can feel the mercenary's smirk, even if they can't see it.
The Death Eaters tense and shuffle in place. A tense atmosphere is felt throughout the room. Minute movements convey the Death Eaters thoughts of disdain of the mercenaries and the way in which they speak with their Lord. The Death Eaters are too distracted to notice the micro-expression on Voldermort's face. Voldermort's face is too malformed for the mercenaries to decipher the snake-man's true feeling.
"Conclude, hmm?" Voldermort muses aloud. "Am I correct to in my assssumption, that your …Learder-ssama, is interessted in my offer; sseeing as he ssent ssuch sseriouss...mercirniess." Voldermort straightens in his chair and glares down at the mercenaries.
"You assume wrong." The shorter answers sharply.
"Leader-sama sent us 'serious' mercenaries to look up some serious intel that you weren't providing him in your letters. It didn't take us very long to figure out you are planning a civil war, Lord Voldermort. Leader-sama made it clear early on in your correspondences that our organization does not deal with wars, of any kind. It is bad for business, you see, to be thought of as biased." The taller mercenary slides his left foot back and tilts his head back, his lower face now visible. Inhumanly sharp, bright white teeth , are set in a face with blue tinted skin. Gasps are heard from the Death Eaters closest to the front.
"And you know what they say about 'assuming.' It makes an ass out of you and your morons, I mean minions." The Larger says while gesturing towards the Death Eaters around them.
"Hhmm, very well then. I am disappointed in your leader and your organizations standings, but one never really knows when dealing with foreigners." Boredom enters Voldermorts blood red eyes as he relaxes in his chair. "Avada Kedavra."
A flash of green light flies to the foreigners, casting the Death Eaters a sickly shade of green as the light flashes and then dies. The bodies fall to the ground inaudibly as the Death Eaters move away from the sickly green light and the dead bodies.
The men's faces are now bare to the light for the first time since the men entered the throne room. The shorter mercenary is little more than a boy. He looks to be 18 or so and has pale, moonlight skin and black hair held back by a head band with a scratch across an abstract lead symbol. The larger mercenary has blue skin, just as the brief glimpse from before suggested. Incredibly high cheekbones are marred by three curved scars below each eye. Dark blue spiked hair is held back by a headband similar to the others except his has a four squiggles on it with a scratch through it.
A silence occurs while the Death Eaters hold their breath for their Lords command.
"Greyback. Wormtail. Deal with the bodies."
Greyback and Wormtail emerge from the throng of Death Eaters to follow their Lord's command.
"The rest of you…!"
Voldermort is cut off by a blinding flash of white light. Voldermort hears rushing water and opens his quickly shut eyes to meet black on red eyes.
Voldermort feels another mind slam into his and quickly throws up his mind shields. The red eyed man has already infiltrated his mind however, and Voldermort has done nothing more than given his mindscape a fortress scenery. Voldermort's specialty lies in keeping minds out, not throwing them out. He hasn't had to worry about this sort of situation for a long time and is now out of practice. Now that red eyes is in, he has no way of throwing him out.
Voldermort's face goes slack as he stares into the red eyed, smaller mercenary. Voldermort begins to scream. It is a scream similar to what you hear from the humongous evil snake creature on bad sci-fi movies (or from a Basilisk for you Muggle-Haters) when the hero kills it.
Voldermort continues to scream his serpentine scream, as his Death Eaters look on in horror from their watery prison.
Between the two groups of Death Eaters, the larger mercenary stands with arms outstretched, "holding" a water prison around the large groups. The Death Eaters are floating and waving their arm about trying to swim out of their prison. Greyback and Wormtail, unconscious at his feet.
Voldermort continues to scream in the dark, wet room. He begins to drag his nails across his head and face. He curls in on himself like the snake he is and falls to the floor; screaming and clawing still.
The blood from his face gouges and broken nails stand out greatly against his white pasty skin and black robes.
The smaller mercenary calmly leaves the throne and approaches his partner. His partner begins to speak as the black haired mercenary leans down to securely tie up Wormtail.
"I suggest you morons help your all powerful leader over there once I release you. I've seen people rip their eyes out and die from the…fit; my partner has put him under. Understand? Good. Have a good war!" The Death Eaters can hear the man's evil grin.
The bubble-like water prisons' form falls and the Death Eaters fall to the floor, gasping for air, as the mercenaries calmly walk out with their prisoner in tow, Voldermort screaming all the while.
*Scene Break*Outside the Manor*
"Took you a little longer than normal with him Itachi. Are your eye's getting worse?" the large mercenary asks.
"Hn." Itachi says while walking quietly, dragging Wormtail behind him, the bell softly chiming.
"'Hn,' Itachi speak for 'Go Fuck Yourself Kisame.'" Kisame says cheerily. "Ok, next unanswerable question: why are we not headed home with a silver armed prisoner?"
Itachi remains silent as they continue to head down the trail. Kisame shrugs and continues walking with his partner. Kisame is startled sometime later when Itachi decides to answer his question.
"In that things mind, " Itachi slowly begins, silently enjoying Kisame's slight jump. "I found something…." He pauses, "someone." He continues strongly. "They are linked together. He was observing what was going on in that room. Therefore, he was trapped in the jutus with Voldermort." Itachi stops to allow his partner to observe this information from his normally silent partner.
"Wha…Ho..? Has that ever happened before?" Kisame eventually forces out through shocked lips. "Did you torture him too?"
"No. I retrieved valuable information from him, information that should be helpful to Leader-sama. So, in return, I have decided to reward his cooperation by leaving this man in this land's government's incapable hands." Itachi looks at his partner. "I thought you should be aware of our change in plans."
Kisame turns away from his partner to process his silent partner unusual speech and recent experience. After a short time, Kisame sighs.
"We're not going home after we take this man in, are we?" Kisame asks.
"No, we are not." Itachi and Kisame fall silent's as it begins t rain the dark forest.
End
A/N: Tell me what you think! It is my first one, so be easy on my k? :) Review Please!d