Hello! This short one-shot was written for the MadaSaku Week orgnized on Tumblr. The story has been betad by Obsessed Lass. Enjoy! :-)
MadaSaku Week(End)- Fairy tales
His steps kept echoing as he wandered through the unfamiliar halls of an unfamiliar castle. Madara had no knowledge about the Uchiha clan owning such a ludicrously baroque house-if it could even be called one. There had been whisperings of remote relative in possession of a mysterious inheritance, but it was pointless to believe in such rumors. There was hardly any possibility of coming across a castle like that except in fairy tales.
If there was one thing Madara Uchiha did not believe in, it was those silly fairy tales. Granted that once in a while when he was responsible for babysitting that menace, Sasuke, he read aloud a few ones to calm him down. The never ending twists. The unforeseen fairy godmother. You were the youngest of the siblings? Good for you. A great adventure awaited you, filled with magic and a fair maiden to keep you company till the end of your days. Had a mean step-mother and/or a step-father? Even better! And the list of clichés found in fairy tales could go on all day long.
Yet, here he was, dressed in a well-tailored dark red coat decorated with gold embroidery. Attached to the coat were back tails that flopped after him with every step. The ensemble was made complete with the most fitting tights he ever had the misfortune to wear.
Yet, here he was in this magnificent castle with the most exquisite decorations and picturesque scenes one could ever hope for.
Where was he exactly? Was it a dream? A bad joke? Another dimension? No idea. The only thing that was clear, was that the inhabitants in this world were all gone soft in the head. His best bet was that one of his many enemies had finally decided to get rid of him. Yet that still did not answer the growing number of questions. Where the actual fuck was he? Who were these people? And why in the name of god were they wordlessly prancing around the palace like self-proclaimed ballet dancers? And their eyes! Why were all of them looking at him with dread and still choosing to stay wordless? It looked rather tiresome to try to start, let alone maintain a conversation with someone who was in mid-jump or was performing such complicated twists and spins that he would rather keep them at arm distance lest he got slapped. (He did get slapped, and he did not intend to repeat the experience.)
So unless the furniture sprang to life and sang the solution to his dilemma, he had no one to get the much needed information from.
It was only after trying in vain to elicit some response from the dancers that he heard a beautiful melody coming from a distance. Upon following the lovely sound, he found a ballroom filled with light.
And there she was.
In the center of the ballroom was a woman spinning, twisting, jumping, bending and swaying with grace, in perfect harmony every note that was played by an unseen orchestra. As he stepped further into the ballroom he couldn't help being stunned by her beauty. The sway of her hips, the gentle flow of her movements and her rare looks. For a fleeting moment their looks crossed and without warning she stopped. The woman turned to face him and extended her hand in silent invitation. The music had stopped the very moment she ceased dancing. Madara had no intention of ever taking part in this madness, but he was so beguiled by that woman in front of him that he started moving towards her without taking any notice. Unbeknownst to him, the closer he got to her, the further the music accelerated. The moment their hands touched, it was as if he lost control over himself, he found himself dancing with the beauty who had lured him into the room.
A quick glance and a flash of emerald eyes and he was swept away. Gone was the man annoyed with this this ordeal, one ready to finish off whoever got him there in the first place. Gone was the man fishing for answers and gone was any will to end his movements. As the music started to play faster and faster they continued to move in synchrony with every note. Madara might have known a few dances, but there was no way he was capable of such an activity like this. It might have been a few minutes later when he noticed himself getting out of breath that the revelation hit.
He couldn't stop. Madara realised with a sudden jolt of shock that couldn't gain back control of his limbs, or at least his speech.
The woman flashed him a knowing smile, twisted out of his arms and pushed him out of the room.
She knew.
The glint in her eyes told it all. No matter how hard he struggled to take back control and get back to that damned ballroom it was without any effect.
To an inaudible melody he swayed away, despairing.