Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. Contains brief but graphic descriptions of violence and explicit sexual content not meant for minors.

Snow White

He was supposed to kill her, not fall in love with her.

But he was only human, and she surely was something much more divine.

He sat upon the boulder by the stream, distractedly trying to sharpen his dagger with the whetstone, but the gleam of the blade was nothing compared to the gleam of her hair, black as night, as she sauntered through the nearby field of flowers.

The weapon in his hand hung loosely from his fingertips as his blue eyes followed the delicate way her fingertips brushed the petals of the lurid colors which danced along with the sway of her hips as she innocently smiled down upon them with her rose red lips. How could he bring himself to fulfill his duty to his Queen and end this beautiful life?

The huntsman shook his head, roughly running a hand over his shaggy blond hair to try and bring himself back to earth and away from the heavenly creature with the snow white skin as smooth as silk, or so his active imagination assumed it to be.

The clang of his frustrated swipes was drowned by the babble of the water as he forcefully ground the whetstone along the edge of his dagger. The least he could do was make it as quick and as painless as possible. His nostrils flared as indignation once more raged within as he thought over the instructions Queen Orochimaru had given him.

"Kill her. Cut out her heart and bring it to me, that I may devour it and then become the fairest in the land."

The wide serpentine smile that had split her pale face had made him sick, but he was a loyal servant to the Konoha Kingdom, and to go against the Queen was suicide. Yet the order sat heavy within him like a stone in his gut. He had killed many times before, having spent years as a soldier before coming home to serve the royal family in the manner of his Clan as they had for generations, bringing only the best meat, fresh from the forest, for the royal table.

Slaughtering faceless enemies charging you in the heat of battle, or wild animals who would feed many a hungry mouth was an altogether different matter than murdering the Princess as she enjoyed the stunningly beautiful spring day.

Throwing the whetstone into his pack with more force than necessary, the huntsman stood abruptly and gripped the dagger tightly in his hand. The thick layers of newly blooming flowers muffled the sound of his doggedly determined steps as he approached the Princess from behind, wanting the last sight she saw to be the rippling ocean of colors, and not the flash of his blade.

The spit in his mouth dried as he tried to lick his lips, anxiously pursing his mouth as he forced back the memories of the Princess that he had cherished ever since his childhood when he had laid eyes on her for the first time. She had smiled at him, full of genuine friendliness as he had peeked out from behind his father's legs as they delivered the deer meant for supper to the castle kitchens. The father and son Namikaze hunters had passed by the edges of the royal garden that bordered the forest, and she had been walking the quaint path with her mother, reciting the names of the flowers.

No one had smiled at him like that before. His heart had instantly stopped, his grubby hand hesitantly lifting in a jerky wave before snapping back down to his side. But the gesture had made her giggle into her hand, her cheeks flushing in a way that somehow made her even cuter, and he had been smitten from that day on.

To his chagrin the years had not diminished his childhood crush, and as the Princess had blossomed into a young woman of breathtaking beauty and renowned kindness, he had known that he was certainly falling in love with an untouchable dream.

So when the wars had started he had immediately signed up to leave, hoping that the distance would make him forget her, and instead remember his place as a servant, only ever destined to admire her from afar.

That day he had left, kissed his mother goodbye and embraced his father, checking over the straps on his horse, the tension of the bridle, the well oiled leather of his saddle, he had passed by that garden once more simply out of nostalgia. Saying his goodbyes to his childhood and its silly dreams.

But she had been there, slumped upon the stone bench by the far wall, slowly twirling a single rose in her hands as tears slipped down her face. He had worried how she was handling the death of her mother, and seeing the way her whole countenance seemed to be dimmed and faded of its usual vibrance, had made his soul ache to comfort her.

Glancing swiftly around, he had dared to do the unforgivable. After all he was going to war, he could die tomorrow, he had to seize the day. The snicker of the horse had her lifting her head, and her pale eyes that seemed to glow like the moonlight widened when she saw him approaching the ivy covered stone wall that separated them. Her cheeks had instantly flushed with color, and a small part of him wondered if his recent growth spurt was to her liking.

"Your Highness," he said, cringing at the crack in his voice and clearing his throat harshly. "I-I just wanted to say, I'm sorry about your mother. We all appreciated her generosity, she will be remembered fondly by the Namikaze Clan." His heart pounded in his chest, but he hoped the words sounded sincere and not too rehearsed. They were probably nothing that she hadn't heard a hundred times already from much more important people than he.

But to his infinite delight she had stood and slowly tip-toed over to the waist high wall, her petite stature so much more noticeable as she came closer to him than he had ever hoped. Her gaze swept over his newly polished armor, handed down from his father but of high quality for his status, and well cared for.

"You're leaving too," she said in half a whisper, and he could only nod blankly as sadness filled her face anew. Perhaps all those furtive smiles and blushes over the years had not been his imagination. Or was it just the mind of a lonely soldier looking for a modicum of comfort to carry into battle?

"Please, stay safe," she had abruptly blurted out, startling him and causing his mouth to drop open. Hope rose within him that she might actually care about his well being, and sudden heady courage made him speak without thinking.

"It will be my honor to defend The Kingdom of Konoha, and with the blessing of my Princess to protect me, I am sure I will never give up on my mission!" He pounded a fist against his chest, the metallic thud of his knuckles emphasizing the steel of his gaze. He meant every word.

A watery smile had graced her forlorn features, and with a bite of her lower lip her graceful hands were darting out to deftly slide the stem of the rose between the plates of his armor. Frozen in awestruck wonder, time seemed to slow down as she planted her hands on the wall, and pushed herself up to plant a feather soft kiss to his cheek.

"Then my blessing you shall have," she had murmured, and the last thing he saw was her blazing red face as she ran off down the garden path, leaving him as the center of his own maelstrom.

Three years crawled by, full of enough bloodshed to last him a lifetime and make him feel as aged and hardened as the leather of his scabbard. He had been so naive. He had lost so much, so many. But her words had carried him through those nights of screaming silence, when the echoes of the battle nearly drove him to madness. He had been certain he had felt her by his side, guiding his sword, whispering warnings in his ear, carrying his horse on invisible wings as he charged through a hail of arrows. Every time he thought he would break, it was her face that urged him forward, to never give up. To come home.

But home was not the same. Upon returning to Konoha as a seasoned warrior, a man, he had learned that his parents had passed away, and the King had remarried a cold woman from a distant land that had slowly frozen over the heart of the court with her frigid character. The warm aura of the castle was snuffed out like a doused fire, and he feared the Princess's memories of him were also extinguished as one prospective suitor after another graced the royal table. Dining on the very meat that he himself supplied, a loyal servant as always.

It was three months after his return that the news of the King's death swept through Konoha, and underneath the cries of mourning were whispers of murder. The Queen had surely killed him, and as the Princess was still only in the midst of her seventeenth year, Orochimaru would reign with complete control.

Then one day he had been summoned. Given an unspeakable order. The ultimatum impossible to refuse. Kill the Princess, or lose everything. His ancestral home, his name, his Clan's honor, his appointment, and most likely his life. All his existence...gone, unless he took hers.

Carefully locked away within the bowels of the castle by the Queen, he had not seen her once since his return. With her release into his care for the purpose of his malevolent mission, he had been speechless at the refreshing sight of her. Even shrouded in her rich velvet cloak to ward off the chill of the spring air her beauty had hit him harder than any spear. She was no longer the girl of his dreams. She was the goddess of his prayers.

Even now as he stood behind her, her cloak discarded and her small bits of exposed skin basking in the sunshine with a purity that he had thought no longer existed, he knew that there was nothing they could take from him that would make him harm a single hair on her head.

The sound of his dagger sliding home into its sheath startled her and she whipped around to face him, fear filling her eyes as she saw the dark look on his war-scarred face. Before she could even utter a confused question he was falling onto his knees before her and spilling his guts like a sinner at confession.

"You have to run," he grit out between his teeth at the end of his tale, still staring at the grass, too ashamed to even raise his head. "I will help you hide, but you must never return to Konoha, not until Orochimaru is dead."

The swish of her skirts as she sank to the ground made her flowery scent fill his senses, and he fought to stay in control and not display the pain that the words caused him. She would be gone forever, but at least she would be safe.

Hands softer than he ever thought possible cupped his cheeks, lifting his face to stare into her tearful moonlight eyes. His breath caught in his throat as she gently traced the scars on his cheeks, no trace of disgust in her expression.

"I will go, but only if you promise to come back for me."

Undone by her words he forgot himself, drawn to her curved mouth like a moth to flame, he slowly leaned forward until he could taste her breath, hot and shallow as she too pulled him closer. Her lips were soft and welcoming, and she opened up to him as he pressed into her sweetness. The burdens of his heart were washed away in waves of his bliss as they melded together amongst the flowers, the certainty of their perfection settling in both of their souls.

A harsh gust of wind blew up from the valley and pulled her hair from its ties. She shuddered and huddled into his chest as he held her protectively against the biting chill. A solemn reminder of his duty.

Pulling away he looked deeply into her eyes, his blue gaze hardened with unshakable determination.

"I promise, I will never forsake you. As soon as it is safe I will come back. You have my word…Hime." His hands tightened on her shoulders, as she stared into his stern face. A sad expression of acceptance colored her pale features, but she was not the frail little princess that Orochimaru thought she was. With a sharp nod she gave him her bravest smile.

"I will wait for you, Naruto-kun."

Another year.

Another lifetime lived without her. A year since the day he had raced through the forest with her clinging to his waist as they rode like the wind into the deepest labyrinth of the oldest trees, to the hideout of rogue soldiers who had fled the poverty of Konoha and the blood of a pointless war. A year since he had entrusted seven of his dearest comrades with her care, and promised to be their eyes and ears on the inside in return. A year since he had committed to the revolution that would either destroy or resurrect Konoha from the greedy clutches of The Mad Queen.

A year of longing.

He hardly recognized her when they met at the gates of the city with all the legions of revolutionaries, prepared for the final battle. Her fancy dresses and flowing hair were gone. Replaced with practical leather and trousers that somehow still made her curves delicious and dangerous at the same time. Three thick braids trailed down her back, tied away from her face to keep her eyes clear and focused as she loosed her arrows with a deadly accuracy that he had never witnessed in all his years of war.

She was a deadly strength that melted him from the inside out, and Shikamaru had to yank his staring head behind the battlement before he was decapitated by one of the Queen's goons. If he had thought her beautiful as a Princess, he found her absolutely irresistible as a Warrior.

As they fought side by side through the castle, him brawling his way through the ranks with vicious swings of his sword and she covering him from behind with a rapid fire volley of arrows that sank through the armor of every charging enemy, he had felt the simmering heat of her by his side. He fought with more ferocious savagery than ever before, knowing that his Battlefield Angel was actually standing by his side this time, ruthlessly protecting him just like she had all those years abroad, when she was only a voice in his dreams.

The Queen had held nothing back, unleashing the hounds of hell upon the usurpers who struggled to take back their home. At the sight of the Princess, Orochimaru's eyes had glowed with a yellow hatred so intense her skin had peeled away to reveal a scaled beast of serpentine malevolence. Fangs sprang from her gaping mouth as she struck out at Naruto with fiendish speed. His arms trembled to uphold his sword against her blows, to keep her away from Hime, focused on him, until the Princess could take her shot.

And she never missed.

Her hands were steady as steel as she nocked the enchanted arrow upon her bowstring. Her red lips pursed in perfect poise as she exhaled and took aim. Her eyes narrowed in absolute focus as she calculated a million factors of trajectory and momentum and interference. Her smirk was remorseless as she watched death delivered once and for all.

The euphoria of their victory was instantaneous as the bitter spell upon the land evaporated with the last breath from Orochimaru's body. The colors returned in a lurid wave of sweeping freedom that had every man, woman, and child lifting their voices to the heavens to rejoice once more. Mobs of people poured into the castle, crying, laughing, singing, celebrating the abundant life they had fought so hard to enjoy. The cellars were opened, the stores unsealed, the merriment flowed with the drink and the glow of the torches made everything seem golden.

He never took his eyes off her.

She was glorious in her victory, more of a Queen with her bloodstained leather and flushed face than with any silken gown or pale complexion. Her spirited laughter and sparkling eyes gave a vivacious inspiration to the growing cacophony around her that spurred the people into an effervescent celebration that could carry on for days.

He couldn't wait that long.

After an earnest toast full of ardent promises for a better future, she was standing atop the center table of the grand hall, hands raised in triumph as she praised her people and their faithfulness, vowing to return it to them tenfold, and her sweeping gaze had landed upon his upturned face. The cheerful shine in her eyes had sharpened into something much more feral as she locked onto his ardent blue stare. Without hesitation he reached up and pulled her from her perch, boxing her into his arms and elbowing his way purposefully through the throngs of tipsy revelers. A few hoots and hollers came from those sober enough to see their swift departure, but the sounds of the masses were quickly lost as they wove through the halls of the castle.

She seemed to remember exactly where they were, for with a sudden yank he found himself tripping into a dark room and the door slamming shut behind them. Their shoes crashed into random corners of the stone floored room as they chucked them off without a care. Her hands were deftly ripping at the ties of his leather guards, and his fingers were swiftly unlacing the straps of her leather vest.

The tenderness of their first kiss was long forgotten as the time and distance of their deprived desire burned up from within. They panted with need as their mouths crashed together, yanking off every physical barrier that still stood between them. Desperation sparked a heady arousal that thickened the air, more intoxicating than the strongest wine.

The last of his gear clattered to the floor, and he gasped as her hands slid under his shirt, gliding over his taught stomach and up to his chest, resting upon his pounding heart.

"You're mine," she murmured into his mouth, pressing her palm into his chest like a subject swearing an oath of allegiance. "And I am yours."

"Always, Hime, I love you," he assured her, his own hands finally freeing the bindings of her belt and pushing her trousers down until they fell to her ankles allowing him to trace the swell of her hips in frank adoration.

"I love you so much," she whispered heatedly, and moaned at his caress. The sound made his loins ache in yearning. He groped her through her long billowing blouse, lifting it up to palm her round ass, hauling her up and spinning them around to pin her against the wall. She cried out in bliss as his hardened length ground into her through his pants, wrapping her legs around his waist and digging her fingers into his blond hair. He let her yank his face upwards catching her whispered encouragements on his tongue as he rocked against her center with lusty abandon.

Her hands yanked at the ribbon of her thin cotton blouse, unwrapping her body to his greedy gaze, pulling it open and off of her head and leaving him speechless at her full glory. The sweat on her skin made her shine in the moonlight spilling through the windows, and he groaned in pleasure at the soft fullness of her breasts, lavishing them with open mouth kisses that trailed lower and lower.

He barely registered the way her nails dug into his back as he latched onto her hard pink nipple. His carnal appetite only increased as he suckled her aggressively, adoring the way she swore beneath his kneading hand and hot mouth.

Unable to take much more she arched off the wall, her hand diving down between them and groping at his trousers. "Naruto-kun," she begged in a salacious moan, "I need more."

Never one to disobey his Princess, he wrapped an arm around her waist, barely making it to the bed as they stumbled down upon the musty sheets. Her hair splayed out across the pale fabric, black ebony in the blue glow of the moonlight, and he knew he would never forget the raw greed that glinted in her eyes.

Balking under the overwhelming sight of her glorious nakedness, he was momentarily frozen in an erotic stupor as he watched her wrench the knot of his trousers loose and wrap long slender fingers around his throbbing cock.

The first firm pump of her hand had him keeling forward and hissing between clenched teeth. The pent up passion that was burning in his loins was now shooting through his body as she eagerly worked him from tip to base, a smug smile twisting her plump, roughly kissed lips at his sweet agony.

It was too much, too soon, and he recoiled suddenly before the delicious tension which began to wind tighter and tighter could erupt. Her whine of denial was cut off as he grabbed her legs and threw them over his shoulders, turning his head to sink his teeth into the flesh of her sensitive inner thigh.

He watched in satisfaction as she arched in lewd pleasure at the pinching pain of his bite, her breasts bouncing freely as she lurched beneath his teasing finger which stroked her moist folds. He dipped his finger into the well of her hot core, coating himself in her wetness and caressing her firm clit in a tortuously tender caress that had her fisting the sheets and bucking her hips.

"Sweet heaven, Hime, you're so wet," he groaned, sinking two fingers deep within her and marveling at the pressure of her tight walls. She could only whimper, her mind lost to the pleasure of her body as he played her perfectly. Unable to hold back, he bent to taste her, and she gasped breathlessly.

Her fingers tangled into his hair as he laved his tongue in rapid flicks over her clit, adding more and more pressure with each stroke as she yanked his face against her rocking pelvis.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," she panted insensibly as he pumped her dripping pussy, relishing the power he had to give her such intense pleasure. Her thighs snapped tightly around his head as her orgasm seized her body, her muscles taut in spasms of ecstasy.

When her cries had diminished to pants of bliss he withdrew his soaked fingers, kneeling between her splayed legs and brazenly stroking his stiff member with her juices, as she watched through half lidded eyes that still sparkled with desire. A coy smile flashed over her mouth before she bit her bottom lip and began to slide her hands up her stomach to cup her own breasts.

His nostrils flared in terse exhalations as he watched, his eyes glued to her hands as she groped her large mounds, and pinched her hard nipples, making the most heartbreaking whimpers he had ever heard. He positioned himself at her opening, and her breath caught as the hot head of his cock slowly pressed inside her. He swallowed hard as he sank within her, the grip of her walls driving him to a level of insanity he never wanted to return from. She grunted lewdly with each thrust of his pelvis, growling in unabashed relief as they finally fully connected in a heated joining of naked flesh. He could only hover over her in trembling awe of the glorious sensation of being buried inside her body, the smooth glide of his cock deep within her changing him forever.

The carnal instinct to move suddenly welled up within him, and he withdrew only to swiftly thrust back into her, dropping to his elbows and letting her heaving bosom dance across his bare chest with each plunge into her splendor. Her ankles locked behind his ass, driving his pace to match the building tension that was peaking within her once more. She held onto him for dear life as he lost himself in the pounding of her pussy, grinding his pelvis against her clit and eliciting cries of praise from her lips.

She was tighter than ever before, and his mind shut down, his hips stuttering in their rhythm as she screamed his name, stroking him with her walls as he burst, filling her up until he felt a satisfying emptiness that left him clutching her in sheer bliss. He fell atop her, exhaustion and euphoria leaving him boneless and too weak to pull away, as she trailed featherlight fingertips down his sweaty back and peppered his face with gentle kisses.

"Don't ever leave me again," she whispered into his ear as he rolled his head to the side. The moonlight once more graced her features like it was made for her alone and he huffed a soft chuckle into her lips.

"As if I could ever let you go."