A/N: My apologies for the delay. Chapter 4 is about halfway done. Please excuse any typos, I did my best. Endless gratitude for your patience, comments, and encouragement. I love you all dearly.

Onward.


Chapter 3: The Shield

When the Last left his palace, before he'd been informed of his sister's arrival, he did the only thing it was prudent to do, given the Last's slave was being pursued: he kept watch. The eye he set to following his guests did so at a distance undetectable by the ones it followed. Consequently, he was unable to hear any speech that transpired. He saw them stop outside their residence, saw the slave peer toward the trees across the pathway, but this was the moment he'd been given news of his sister. Though her Ascension had taken the larger part of his focus he'd been aware of his guests still and of how the slave did nothing more than bathe the Last.

While his sister enjoyed her own bath, and the drums of Suna's citizens beat in gaiety, he reclined on his couch and saw, behind closed lids, the way the Last meditated in his bathwater. Curious. He himself did not meditate unless utterly alone upon the sand dunes northwest of the village. His sister entered his presence then and he'd been hit anew by her beauty. Taller than him, she was. Long and muscled legs, taut arms, rounded hips, and an arse that warmed his blood. High and tight, was his sister's arse, as was her bosom. His eyes lingered on her breasts. Plump. Dewed from her bath. The shadow between the rounds likely scented with jasmine oil, her preferred scent and one that would have been denied her during the journey.

He took a moment to lament the fact that she would never know the feel of a cock moving within her. 'Twas an ancient decree for all lands that female rulers be kept untouched by a man. Their passions could then be channeled into strength, which would thus enable women, always weaker, to rule effectively. Perhaps there was some truth to it. His sister was a creature of rare ferocity. He knew of no other woman a tenth as fierce.

There followed his conversation with her on the Last. He'd taken another peek at his guests. The Last was still in his bathwater, but the slave and the alma were tense. Their body language communicated something to him, but it was then, right then, that the intruder made himself known.

"Yes. What does he look like?"

He looked his fill. Unmasked himself as he swung his legs off the couch and got to his feet. That he was gazing upon power he could not feel put the fine hairs of his body on end and woke the sacred essence he carried. The conversation that followed did not produce enlightenment. We? So this man was not alone. The group of men who'd entered his village some days past, the ones he'd noted for their considerable strength, did not come close to the power of his red-haired guest…but then they'd been at a distance and could very well have mitigated the level of power they put out as a means to mislead…if that group and this man's companions were one and the same.

The intruder threatened his life. While the sacred essence murmured in his mind at hearing this, he took another peek at the Last. His guest had mentioned Vessels, after all. Perhaps someone had also been sent to collect him. But no, that scene was unchanged. The slave—whom, after hearing this man's speech, he could only surmise was Uchiha— stood just as tense, the alma just as attentive, the Last just as still in his bathwater.

What did cause that tension in the slave?

But then his sister spoke, admonishing him to save himself. She was, in truth, Suna's first defense now; another ancient tenet was that the ruler of a land, always the strongest, be its last line of defense. Lesser men or women, who were nonetheless powerful, must guard the rulers. His sister was his shield. All rulers had one. A backward concept, to his mind. How could one weaker protect one stronger? This was not why he ignored her: One, he had questions he wanted answered. Two, there was no way his sister could face this man. It was he whose duty was upon him, the duty for which he'd been entrusted with the sacred essence.

His questions were honest ones, but they went unanswered. Expected. Unexpected was his gourd being taken. Unexpected and amusing. That such ignorance would extend to the bearer of Rinnegan himself. Unable to let the ignorance continue, he corrected his visitor. Called his attention to the fact that as far as sand went he was up against far more than the contents of his gourd. Perhaps the battle he saw looming could be avoided. His was a peaceful nation. But the promise in those eyes said otherwise.

The sacred essence swelled in him. They were of a mind, he and the essence: release was imminent, but he held it at bay. Long enough for his sister to leap from the balcony and get as far away from him as possible. Then, too, he could not release the essence while his people yet remained. His sister would see they were prepared for transport. He could feel them now, dancing still, ignorant still. His sister would need time.

"Still confident of success?" he asked. His visitor didn't answer him. He himself was content to wait. This gave him time to hear his sister's war cry, feel the villagers respond, and for him to caution the essence to patience. Always hungry, was the essence, yet seldom fed. A blessing. He greatly feared the essence would feast this day. Never a good thing.

His attention was pulled toward the Last. Something was happening. The Uchiha slave was collapsing, the Last surging from his bath to catch him even as the alma ran toward the slave as well. The Last smashing through the roof with both young men in his grasp. His eye remained in the residence long enough to see a visitor of their own shimmer from the air right where the slave had been standing. A man clad in white. White of face and hair, two red points upon his brow. His eye followed the man when he jumped to the roof and so was in time to see the Last face off against a different man of questionable origins. He let his eye remain long enough to hear what this man had to say, to witness the arrival of more opponents, and to hear the Last's words to his slave. They would flee. And flee they did. The pursuit was immediate. He let his eye dissolve.

His visitor continued to stand and stare.


It was exhilarating to be part of the festivities at her age. Adults and older children stomped around her. Their robes swished. "Her Blessing! The Chaste! Her Blessing! The Chaste!" was roared from every throat. She saw heads thrown back, faces distorted with happiness. Date wine was consumed without restraint, splashed onto friends, and poured over heads. Surrounding it all was the fast, light sound of Suna's camel-skin drums.

Such wild dancing! She felt herself swept up and passed from one person to another but she was not alarmed. Violence was prohibited during an Ascension. She was weightless as the hands holding her threw her into the air. She saw other children her age and smaller also being tossed by the crowds. They shrieked with glee just as she did. She looked to the stars as she was pressed upward again and again, ever higher in the crowd's abandon. The wind surrounded her. The shouts. The drums. She felt cherished. Safe and whole and loved,as torchlight and starlight became one.

It was at the zenith of a toss, with nothing but sky all around her, that a sound other than shouting and drums was carried to her on the wind. A woman's voice, trilling like a bird. A strange and beautiful sound. Faint with distance, yet piercing just the same. She turned her head during that one instant between rising and falling, that one moment wherein she was motionless, and beheld Her Blessing, The Chaste herself. Flying. Soaring on her legendary fan. Crouched upon it. Clad in silver, like a star fallen. The cry came once more, and then she was falling to the hands below.

But they did not toss her again. She was held against the front of someone's legs, a pair of hands firmly on her shoulders. Be still, those hands said. Quiet and still. She listened. All those around her were quiet and still and listening.

The first deep boom of the gong was different from the alert for palace news. All signals had a different tone. This one had not been heard in her short lifetime, but the sound made her skin grow cold. The very deepness of the count was so unlike the merriment heard only moments previous that her limbs shook. She knew the meaning before she heard the whispers fluttering around her: Attack! Attack? No! She was buffeted this way and that as everyone began running.

This part she knew from lessons learned in school and at home. In case of attack or similar emergency, villagers were to get themselves to an extraction point. The urge to stop and call to her father had her stumbling to a halt. Before she could shout for him she was pushed from behind and knocked flat. A hand snatched her up again by the arm, nearly wrenching it out of its socket, but another body collided with her and the hand lost its grip. She was on her back, surrounded by flashing heels.


"I do hope you appreciate the respect I show you by collecting you myself," the visitor said. "Rarely do I display myself in battle."

His Eminence blinked. So he, too, is waiting. "I confess 'tis hard to appreciate one who makes war on your people."

"No concern for yourself?"

"I am not defenseless."

"Well, then."


Her Blessing surveyed the village from atop her fan. At the first signal of attack, every resident in Suna knew to make their way to the extraction points scattered throughout the village. Precisely thirty minutes after an attack signal was given, all residents were enveloped in sand, sucked beneath the earth, and transported to the mountains far in the north near the Land of Stone. What remained were Suna's Arts wielders, its fighting strength.

Looking now, she saw all non-combatants running for the extraction points, guided by the generals leading the ground force. A check would be made by the generals to see that all dwellings and shops were devoid of people, at which point the head general, standing atop the tower housing the gong, would signal her. She would then signal her brother.

Her brother's essence was a thing she was finely attuned to. It grew now, shivering along her senses as whatever threat he faced in the palace grew. I will aid you, brother, only wait till the village is clear. I will lead all our fighting force in your defense. Your name will not be spoken this day.

Where was that signal! She swung by the gong, peering at the head general, but he stared toward the west. She looked as well, and saw a general run out of the last dwelling before the wall. He raised an arm. Other generals ran out of other buildings and gave the same gesture.

The head general at last looked up at her and gave the signal for the all clear. She responded in kind, then turned her eyes to the Palace. "We go to His Eminence and Glory!" she cried. She swung her fan round, Suna's army running in formation beneath her, but three individuals landed on a rooftop just ahead in the northern prefecture. Farther, she could make out the last house on the left, where, on the roof, more than a dozen other intruders surrounded three individuals. Even as she watched, the largest of the three took off, passing beneath her with the wild power her brother had spoken of. That was the Last? She caught the briefest glimpse of bare skin, fair hair, and a chained slave, also nude. They were over the wall and trailing fire across the desert before she could blink. The intruders who'd surrounded them were scarcely a hundred cubits behind.

"Our felicitations on your Ascension, Your Blessing, but we cannot allow you to thwart the Leader in any way."

Thus was her attention brought back to the three in her path. Her generals waited below, ranked for offense with their soldiers. It was a woman who spoke. They were all robed the same in sandcloth, but this one's head was uncovered. Blue hair.

"Will you allow us to collect His Eminence without interference?" the woman asked. "We have no issue with you or your people. Upon completion of our task, you will be free to lead in his place. A boon."

The currents she controlled to fly her fan were subtle. The very least of what she was capable, and a skill learned in her youth. Also learned, at the birth of her youngest brother, was the means to communicate with him by the wind that connected them all. Undetectable, for times such as this. She let her eyes catalogue details of her opponents as she siphoned a tendril of wind from the currents supporting her, sent it into the sand, and relayed her message.

In answer to the woman, a hurricane rose up at the movement of her arm and raged toward the three intruders.

But whoever was with the wielder of Rinnegan, the three before her, and the ones pursuing the Last converged on her fighters below, unmasking themselves in the process. Three or four score, by her count, but none as powerful as the ones pursuing the Last, her three, or the one facing her brother. So they'd hidden themselves throughout the village? No matter. She swooped down into the fray.

The blue-haired woman appeared beneath her, riding a large white bird of parchment. "I think not, Your Blessing. Your fight is with us."


Having received his sister's message well before thirty minutes, he lost no time in transporting the villagers to the appointed locations. There were caregivers at the destination points, citizens of Suna who would look after them until the threat was past. No sooner had he done this than his visitor spoke. Respect and appreciation indeed. No, he was not defenseless. And now that it was safe to do so, he unmasked himself fully, to which the wielder of Rinnegan responded in kind.

To let go of his thinking mind was a relief; ever had it been difficult to maintain himself while the essence was awake and in need. Yet still he waited. Only when all hope was lost would he let the essence walk free.

His visitor unleashed a force that was meant to pull him within range, but resisting was child's play. He did not intend to linger or bandy words. He could feel open war taking place upon his sands, his sister facing three opponents who were not inconsiderable. He was needed elsewhere.

A dog sporting several heads and a panda sprang into being atop him. Taking a page from the Last's book, he crashed through his roof, turned, and compressed his palace around visitor and summons both, crushing them. He applied more force, shrinking the sphere that had been his palace and killing all those inside-

But the summons burst free. His visitor rode atop the panda's head. Spikes of sand as tall as trees leapt from the ground and speared dog and panda both. As all structures in Suna were sand, they were all weapons. At his voiceless command they dissolved and converged on the Rinnegan bearer and his new summons, shredding them. There was a moment wherein he felt nothing from his visitor, a moment wherein it came to him that the Last and the Uchiha were about to be overtaken. He aided them just as his visitor stepped out of the sand mounded around him. Unscathed.

Nor was his visitor alone. Now there were six people ranged behind him. All bearing Rinnegan.

"I hope you were not fooled by my paltry display in the palace," his original visitor intoned. "That was but a test. One meant to confirm that I was right to come myself…just as I was right to bring assistance. You do not speak nor use hand signals, yet I can see you've removed your people to safety and bested a number of my own. All while you have yet to manifest. Your Eminence and Glory, you are indeed a most powerful man. But so am I."


She managed to save herself from trampling by crawling to a shop that stood open. By the smell, it was a bakery. She peered around in the brightening dawn and indeed, there was the large brick oven, rounded on top, that produced the flat breads Suna was known for. She sat where she was, watching the stampede stream by the doorway. She should go with them. But she was so small and everyone was so big and strong in their fright. Surely it would be safer to wait awhile. Until the crowd thinned. The nearest extraction point was two streets over, behind the cloth merchant's stall.

-oOo-

It was one of her earliest memories, her father showing her the extraction points. The locations were a thing memorized in infancy. Three times a year, Suna held drills to practice evacuation. And twice a year, all the infants 6 months to 1 year where placed in the extraction points and left for an hour. During that hour, the sand leapt and cavorted with the babies. Learning them. Soothing their fears, teaching them the truth all Suna citizens were bound by: the sand was safety. The sand was sanctuary. The sand was shelter. This was the doctrine recited daily when children began school. Morning and afternoon. It was the first thing a child learned to write and read. Love of the sand and its love for Suna's residents was a thing cherished by all.

Once, when she was younger, she'd wandered away from her father while he shopped. Toddled to an extraction point. She had dim visions of the year before, when she'd been introduced to the sand. The shapes that formed in the air, the warm and gritty texture on her skin. She'd stood looking into the shallow well of this extraction point, waiting for the sand to dance. She'd waited for so long, she'd fallen asleep. She only woke at her father's hoarse shout for her. Frantic and worried and promising a beating. When she sat up, she was surprised to find herself in the extraction point itself, covered by a thin layer of sand like a blanket.

Her father spotted her. "Tata! You will be the death of me." A slap had indeed followed, but then he snatched her up and squeezed her. "Always wandering, my Tata. The sands preserve you, what am I to do?"

She rested her chin on his burly shoulder as he strode away. She could see the extraction point behind him. And there, just before it fell out of sight, she saw the sand rise in the shape of a hand and wave to her.

-oOo-

"The sand is safety, the sand is sanctuary, the sand is shelter," she whispered. Over and over, as she saw the last of the crowd disappear around corners. She was just about to venture out, but something, a sound or whiff of breeze, made her look into the shadows at the back of the shop.

A man stood there. Clad in the nondescript sandcloth travelers tended to wear. The shop owner lay dead at his feet, she saw with a lurch of her heart. And the man was looking at her.

Someone else ran through the doorway. A soldier of Suna, by his red ra'di. He saw her, saw the man, formed a hand seal, but a snake lashed out of the traveler's sleeve and struck the soldier dead. The traveler stepped over his body on his way to the doorway, where he stopped. Cocked his head at the all clear given to Her Blessing, The Chaste. Smiled. Then he turned his head and looked down at her. Eyes like a snake. And a tongue like one. "You look like a sturdy child. A good specimen to work with," he hissed. "Stay here. I will come for you when it is over."

One of his sleeve snakes slithered out and toward her then. It licked the air by her face, perhaps scenting her tears. She saw fangs and wet herself like a baby. But then he was gone. Nothing but quiet filled the doorway now. It was her chance to leave. To get herself to the extraction point before it was too late. But she was too afraid of that snakey traveler to leave the safety of the shop. She sat in her own urine and cried silent tears, covering her face with her hands. "The sand is safety, the sand is sanctuary, the sand is shelter."


The blue-haired woman was no match for her. A twist of her fan sent a sickle of wind at the trio that the two men evaded, but which sliced the woman in half. She heard one of the men, the blonde one, speak the woman's name. Konan.

Of the two men, the blond was by far the less deadly. He fought with explosives she neutralized or deflected with wind. It was the other, father of snakes, that had the greater mastery of the Arts. He toyed with her. Provided openings for the blond to throw exploding clay at her back or at her blind spots. A tornado infused with her chakra chased the blond across the village, where the houses dissolved as her brother waged his own battle. She was relentless. The blond, too, could flee on air, but her tornado hounded him even then. She knew her back was exposed, knew the father of snakes was going to attack her, but she did not release her focus on her tornado until that blond sand mite was caught in it and torn to shreds. She whirled, expecting death, but her final opponent only stood as she'd left him.

They were alone in a landscape dark and silent.

He uncovered his head. She found his beauty compelling, but he was speaking. No words reached her ears. Only a sound, like crumbling sand dunes. Or the ocean, such as she'd heard while on her journey. The waves made this same ceaseless, mesmerizing sound. She felt her limbs grow heavy. Felt herself falling. Felt his arms, thin but strong, catch her and draw her close. His face was over hers, the scent of him rancid as of dead things, but undeniable in the way it further clouded her mind. There were words in the sound:

"Your Blessing. I find you are far too vital to risk killing in battle. Strong females such as yourself are hard to come by. You took Konan and Deidara with ease. No. You will come with me, where I will discover just how much you can withstand. Mmm…"

His tongue lapped at her face, over her breasts, yet even so she was powerless to move.

"Such life in you." He smiled. Glanced behind himself. The moment his eyes left hers, she thought she could hear…something. Thunderous sounds, the world gone mad. But then her captor turned back to her and all was quiet once more. "Your brother is far too wild for my liking. Let us leave this battle for the others. I have all I want, mm?" This time his tongue entered her mouth and she knew no more.


How she managed to evade capture she didn't know. The bakery dissolved around her then its sand flew into the air. She was briefly swept up with it as baking pans and other objects collided with her, but then she fell to the ground. Everything else continued to soar towards the Red Palace. Or where it used to stand. She ceased her screams when she landed to shield her eyes and stare.

Battle was everywhere. Sand was everywhere, like a cyclone, the eye of which was His Eminence and Glory. Soldiers of Suna warred with the invaders and so did the sand. It fought the enemies immediately around His Eminence, but spears and other deadly shapes formed of sand flew to the aid of Suna's soldiers. "The sand is safety, the sand is sanctuary, the sand is shelter." The litany fell out of her on a gasp of awe.

The sand was what Suna's people swore by. The living embodiment of His Eminence and Glory's love for Suna and all who called her home. She snatched a handful from the air and knelt where she was. Made herself small by bending forward, heedless of the violence around her. All of her focus was on the sand in her fist. She cupped her hands to her mouth and spoke directly upon the grains. "Sands preserve me, heed my prayer. I beg safety, I beg sanctuary, I beg shelter. Sands preserve me, heed my prayer. I beg safety…"


His thoughts slipped further from his control. The sacred essence sat silent and ready. It but waited for his request.

Rinnegan all around him. He saw himself as if through the eye with which he'd watched the Last. The way one body called all the sand and stone around the village, all furniture in dwellings, all the scattered and terrified animals into one horrifying technique meant to converge on him. But he resisted. His chakra was sucked, but he increased what he put out and that body fell dead. He watched, while fending off a centipede and a sea creature, as another body restored the fallen ones, and then the ones who'd pursued the Last and the Uchiha were brought. Taken right from his sand and into the battle they leapt, wroth at losing the Uchiha.

That man of questionable origins who'd spoken to the Last was a water type of worrisome skill. His sand swam in an ocean brought forth, but his wind dried it. They went back and forth, until a Rinnegan body absorbed his chakra, another sent explosives at him, and some lizard creature fell toward him.

It went on. Another water type. A flute-bearer who tried to cloud his senses. The white man from the Last's residence. One wielding a scythe whose particular skill with the Arts had one of the sacred arms of the essence manifesting before he could stop it.

He was losing. But not lost yet.

His sand was a storm around all of Suna, leagues wide. It was an easy thing to locate his sister. Rage threatened his control at finding her captured and being sped away. Using his sand he speared her captor from behind, then dragged him limb from limb when another body began forming from the first. The head he crushed utterly, and the heart he buried and tore apart, lest his sister's abductor prove to be like another of the opponents he'd killed and have more than one heart.

His sister lay senseless. He gathered her in sand he made impenetrable and sent her away.

All this while his enemies converged on his own sphere, where he'd taken refuge. One of the Rinnegan bodies, no, all of them, began the process of destroying it. He could feel where the remaining intruders stood ready. He had only moments before his chakra gave out, but a single one was all he needed.

He made himself sleep.

-oOo-

In his mind, he approached the prison housing the essence. "Sacred Spirit, First of the All-Mighty Demon's Divine Soul. I beseech Thee. Grant me victory over mine enemies. Be mine eyes. Be my body. Slake Thy thirst upon my foes. Thy will be done."

"SPEAK MY NAME. AND IT WILL BE AS THOU REQUEST."

His soul quailed at being addressed by such as the sacred essence, just as it did at having to speak its name. Never had he done so without terror. "Shukaku. I bid Thee come forth."

"THY WILL BE DONE."

And always he felt as if he opened the gateway to the Hells. This time was no different.

-oOo-

He watched from the dream realm he was consigned to and was surprised to find the sun about to set. The essence, now free, screamed in delight.


Her Blessing woke on a shriek only to find herself enclosed in one of her brother's protective spheres. She felt him all around her. Warm. Strong. Full of love. So different from the presence of her captor.

"No… Gods, no. Brother!" He could hear her, she knew it. But he was either very weak…or asleep. She knew from experience that nothing she did would alter the sphere. Even weakened, her brother was too strong for her to overpower. "Please, let me aid you. Do not do this." Nothing happened. Her brother continued to speed her towards wherever he meant for her to be.

She let her palm rest against the curve of the sphere, where she herself sat huddled. The sand shaped itself into a hand and held hers. The tears she shed were bitter.


Few and far between were the days he left seclusion. Those were days he met with Akatsuki. Most often with those he'd selected to lead the organization until such time as the plan was in place. Rarer still was a summons from Nagato. Unheard of, truth. There was nothing Nagato could not handle, hence his appointment as leader. But the summons was urgent. A single step carried him from seclusion and into Suna, where Hell had been unleashed. The sand was a tempest covering the land as far as the eye could see. It sliced and bit at him until he could retreat within the protection of his chakra. He chose a vantage point removed from the thick of it and proceeded to watch.

The First stood alone. All manner of the Arts from Akatsuki swirled around his diminutive form.

Mesmerizing. The ruler of Suna was but a boy, but such mastery of the Arts did he possess that he himself could well see why the people of this land had elected a child to govern them. Were it any foe save his Akatsuki the boy faced that opponent would not have lasted the blink of an eye. Mighty was His Eminence and Glory. It swelled his heart to see such valor. To witness such persistence in the face of such odds, all while holding the essence at bay. To see the way he combatted Suna's previous ruler's iron sand with the same technique, the same skill, was nothing short of thrilling. Fearsome were those attacks, but no less so than when His Eminence wielded Gold Dust as expertly as his sire had done. He found his hand at his throat, mouth dry in awe. All of this His Eminence did without succumbing to rage, that his attacks should gain potency. His own eyes were moist in admiration. Outside of himself, he knew of no soul who fought with as cool a head. His Eminence was terrifying in his calm. He mourned, he truly did, that necessity dictated such an unparalleled boy should die. He would grieve deeply. Of remarkable stock were the rulers of Suna.

But his Akatsuki was unmatched in battle. Undefeated. They were beaten back time and again by the lone boy they faced, but ever did they press forward, attacks renewed, bloodlust undimmed. He could see that some had fallen, and this wrenched at his heart—they were like his children, Akatsuki. But his satisfaction in those that remained soothed his hurt.

Careful note was made of when His Eminence's counterattacks finally weakened. The way he retreated inside a sand sphere that hovered high above what was left of his village. The wind and sand raging about Suna became still, the skies clear once more. It was the hour before twilight.

Long and long had it been since he'd seen an essence unleashed. To see the First Itself explode from that sphere… The way it dropped to the ground… The way the ground for leagues shivered at the impact stilled his breath. His heart galloped and his every nerve tingled with expectation.


The boy looked on while Nameless continued to struggle. The master shook his head in disgust. "As the Uchiha were famed for their superior intelligence, one is left to wonder if you are truly Uchiha." He snatched the length of cloth from Nameless and held it up. "We face foes the likes of which I have not seen and yet a simple loincloth is beyond your ken?" He flung it at his alma, who was nude for this lesson. "Wrap it again. Nameless, watch, the Demon take you."

Working slowly, the boy held one end of the cloth in his teeth so that the rest hung down his front. This length he then threaded between his legs, secured between his lower cheeks, then wrapped around his waist. When the cloth had gone round his body twice, he tucked the remainder into a section at his back, formed a loop, and tucked the end through this. He then pulled and the entire cloth tightened around waist and groin both. The end still in his teeth he released, folded over his groin, and let it hang thus. He looked up at Nameless and spread his hands.

Sasuke looked between the cloth and the boy. "Why cannot he simply wrap it around my person?"

The master nearly swallowed his tongue. "You ignorant phel. Son of flea-bitten dog, that is what you are. Dare you suggest my alma, sacred beyond words, touch a slave?"

"I take it that, too, is forbidden?"

The master went red.

"Then, since I am yours, why do you not do it?" Sasuke offered his own nudity by spreading his arms and expanding his chest.

The master held up a hand and closed his eyes. Turned and carefully sat, his back to Sasuke. Sasuke was amused to feel fury pulse along the chain. The master was ready to kill him. Good. "Give me that," he said to the boy.

The boy unwrapped and handed over the cloth. Sasuke had it fastened about himself in the space of time it took the master to get back to his feet in shock. "You jest?" the master whispered. "You dare jest with me? Me? When I can kill you with less effort than it takes to blink my eyes?"

"I've known how to wrap a loincloth since childhood. What male worthy of his balls cannot? So no, I do not jest. I was testing a theory."

The master and the boy waited.

"The theory is simple: If you cannot harm me in any way, there is no reason for me to behave as a slave. I can obey…in my way."

The master stroked his chin. Walked up to Nameless. Looked him up and down. "If that is so then I, too, can obey…in my way. Do you truly wish to see what that is like? I know of no soul who would see me with my rage upon me, yet you court it freely." He held up a hand with the palm facing himself.

Sasuke watched the nails turn to white claws as they lengthened.

"What you witnessed with His Eminence and Glory was me at play. Look me in my eyes, may the Demon curse your name, and tell me you wish to see me wroth. Tell me truly that you want this."

The blue eyes slowly turned red from the pupil outward. Those pupils lengthened, became slits

"Tell me you would see just what it is that makes me more than a man. It is not simply strength and chakra."

The canines grew to fangs over a bottom lip now dark.

"You would not see what it is that makes me who I am, Nameless, not if you had the sense the Demon gave an ant. Would you?"

Sasuke took in the forelocks that sprang from the master's bun, shaggy and long around his face. The whiskers that were now profuse. The way an impossibly long tongue unfurled between those fangs to drip onto the ground. "…No."

"No," the master continued in the lowest voice possible. "You would not. It is well. I tell you truly and in secret, Nameless: what I carry cannot be fully controlled. I am still learning. Were I to lose my mind, it would be unleashed. Do not jest with me. Do not court your demise. I like the possession of you, but were I to part with my sense under the weight of rage you invite there is no oath under the heavens that would keep me from slaughtering you. Am I understood, Nameless?"

Sasuke swallowed. "Yes, High One."

"That is well." His features returned to normal and the master blinked. "An amendment to my lenience is in order. Henceforth you are only to speak freely whilst I am meditating, sleeping, fucking, or if you sense danger that I do not. Whilst I am aware, as I am now, you do not open your dung-filled mouth for anything but breath, food, or drink."

"Yes, High One."

"Obey in his way, he said. Twice cursed phel. The taming of you begins, Nameless, and not before time."

Sasuke waited until the master turned away before letting out the breath he'd been holding. The feel of the master's chakra as it pulsed along the chain was a thing to turn one's blood to ice and the bowels to water. A blade entering his heart could feel no less deadly. But that does not mean I am cowed, he thought as he watched the master drop to all fours. He slung the leather pack the boy procured an hour previous onto his back and set his stance. There is no clan that knows the workings of the mind so well as the Uchiha. This chain will not hold me long.

-oOo-

Their run took them over rocky terrain this night. His feet were bloody in short order. He was certain now that the master was aware of every hair on his head, but he neither stopped nor inquired after his welfare. It was well. He had no desire to treat with the master while his rage yet simmered along the chain.

There was nothing for which he needed to be aware: The master ran ahead, the boy behind, and he brought up the rear. Featureless, the land around them. He let his mind turn inward, to the only matter of import that he could see.

The chain.

Now that he knew how, he located and examined the master's chakra where it twined with his brain. How did the master's chakra have the ability to overpower his will? What power allowed the chain to accomplish this? A Genjutsu did the same, but there was a world of difference. Genjutsu required the wielder's constant attention, whereas he was compelled to obey regardless to if the master was attentive or not, awake or not. But why. That could only be possible if my brain were altered in some way. No longer an organ on its own but one that only operated on the foreign directive of an outside influence. Sweating though he was from the brutal pace the master set, Sasuke nevertheless felt his blood turn cold. That would mean that if he were to command me to die instead of fight should he fall, my body would drop dead. He could order me to hold my breath until midday and I would drop dead long before then. My brain controls my body's functions. My will controls my brain, and my will has been taken from me. Even my brain's control of involuntary functions has been usurped. His will controls my brain now, and thus my body. It is as he said then and he can kill me with a command. Gods save me, Itachi I will kill you when next I see your face!

Still, it was progress.

All that need be deduced now was the precise means by which the master's will was able to control his. What was it about the chain that made such a thing possible? I am back where I started. Yet he recalled his success in the residence. It can be circumvented. I know my brother, he would not have condemned me without the possibility of escape. What was done can be undone. But he could not throw his power against the master's again. That way lay death. Something else then. Some crack he could slip through.

There was a game his brother would play with him when they were young. A multitude of wooden oblongs set to a pattern in an ever-higher tower. The game was to remove pieces one at a time without toppling the tower. "You must know which piece not to pull," his brother said. He'd then shown him how a single piece could topple the tower. "All structures have a weakness. Just like all minds. All people. All societies. Everything in life has a weakness. Often one small thing, easily overlooked. You must think, brother."

A weakness. Some small thing the master did not know about himself or else thought too negligible to guard against. I will try, Itachi. But curse you. Curse you for putting me in this situation. He would have to go slowly. Carefully, lest the master detect what he was about.

-oOo-

The environment outside of the Land of Wind remained uninhabited. Barren patches mixed with cacti, and spare grass continued for half the night as they ran. Only gradually did the vegetation thicken and the air moisten. Still they ran. Until stunted trees dotted the countryside. These grew in height and girth and frequency until the horizon began to lighten and a village of stone dwellings appeared as shadows far ahead. Sasuke thought they'd stop here, but no. Beyond telling the boy to purchase shelter the master pressed on.

They made camp in a plain more than a league away from the village. Camp consisted of the master simply squatting in the grass and giving the chain a yank. Sasuke went to his left and knelt. Though there was grass, stones and twigs abraded his knees. Being forbidden speech, he said nothing. Instead, he looked at the boy, who was setting the chest down, then at the master, who had his face tipped upward. Neither seemed inclined to procure food, which he considered cause for concern. He'd had precious little to eat since being sold, and the amount of energy he was required to expend during their flights demanded he eat well.

"Nameless."

He was brought out of his thoughts. "Yes."

"I do not sense your pursuers. I sense nothing behind us. Are your enemies close?"

He, too, became still as he concentrated. "No."

A grunt. "That may change. Speak."

"I do not sense them following. I have always sensed them before. We have covered leagues upon leagues. It is doubtful they will give chase. Especially as I am in your company. You may rest assured note was made of your strength. That you fled rather than fought means nothing. A report will have been made to Na…to The Leader, if His Eminence did not kill him. I feel certain his counsel would be for Akatsuki to wait until further intelligence is acquired."

The master was attentive, though his eyes were still skyward. "Intelligence? Of what sort? From what source?"

"Either from His Eminence, if he was beaten and taken prisoner, or The Exalted. Information about you or advice on their next move, having lost me and hopefully my brother."

"This is assuming His Eminence left any of your pursuers alive."

"Yes. Either way, pursuit would not be their first move. After encountering such opposition they must needs regroup."

The master nodded again. Squinted at the fading stars. Then lowered his head to study Sasuke. "At some point we will cross paths again, your pursuers and I. It is certain they will be prepared to take you from me despite my strength when that happens. A battle approaches. I feel it. But it is not here yet. And having had my blood heated only to then flee has left me wanting. Sharply. However, it is what you said to me before our run that has kept my blood hot."

Sasuke felt the air immediately surrounding them change. It compressed. Thickened in a way that was no trick of the mind nor result of his wariness; the master's eyes were unblinking on his face and the air around them responded to whatever caused his stillness.

"You have leave to speak freely until I say otherwise."

"What is it you want?"

"The very question I hoped to hear. Perhaps you are Uchiha after all. To answer, I want you."

"You need me to perform a service? Hunt, perhaps? Bring food?"

A thin, humorless smile stretched the master's lips. "Do you recall what I said before our run?"

There was no use pretending. "That my taming beings."

"And so it shall. Those words, Nameless. Obey in your way, you said. Mm. We shall see. Remove your cloth."

He had to stand to do it, but he removed his loincloth and remained standing.

"And now," the master breathed, eyes greedy in the brightening sun. "Pleasure me. Until I say cease."

By the frown on the master's face, Sasuke was not the only one surprised when he felt no pain from the chain. He stood there, blinking at the master, looking at the chain, glancing at the boy, who looked back and forth between them.

"Well now. One cannot fail to notice that you do not obey me, yet you feel no pain for that disobedience. Are you obeying in your way?"

"I do not know what you want of me."

"But I have said it. I want you to pleasure me."

"…I do not know how."

"Not know how?" A blink. "Even taking into account your clan's religious practice not to pursue pleasure outside the begetting of heirs, surely you must have at least seen-"

"Seen? Seen! Your sport with His Eminence and Glory was the first I ever saw of such madness."

"Madness, he calls it. Mm. And? Do you not recall what was done?"

"Every minute, to my shame and disgust. But I understood none of it. Why any of what I saw would elicit pleasure or the sounds you and His Eminence made…" He turned his head on a shudder.

The master stared. "'Tis unbelievable. Not only are you ignorant of flesh sport, your senses yet lay dormant, else the sight of our passion would have aroused a passion of your own. Correct me if I am wrong, but your clan is, was, a segregated one, yes? Men and women did not mix?"

"We do not mix, period."

"How is that possible?"

"As passions may arise between the same sex as well as the opposite, Uchiha do not mix outside their family unless familial chaperones are present. Children do not go out without their parents, husbands do not go out without their wives, and so on. Then, too, segregation ensures the proper bonds are set within the family in case…"

"In case of what?"

"That is a clan secret I should not utter."

"I see. I'll not ask, then. But how and when do you people learn the art of mating?"

"When a mate has been selected for bonding. There is a period of time in which the prospective pair receives lessons. From their guardians. Most often, their parents."

"Only then?"

"Only then. Uchiha are strictly shielded from anything, any sight or circumstance, which may prove untoward."

The master scratched his chin. "Was your brother, ah…had he selected a mate?"

"We do not select our own mates. That is usually done for us. And no."

"The pair of you? Unbreached?"

Sasuke's face reddened. "That is of no concern to you."

The master debated reprimanding such insolence, but was in truth too shocked. He looked at the boy. "Shelter. And then food."

The boy rose to obey.

"Henceforth those tasks will be performed by you," the master told Nameless. "But I find our conversation just now most fascinating. Tell me why, by His Great Eye, are Uchiha shielded from knowledge of the flesh? Why do you live lives of such carnal ignorance? 'Tis not natural."

Sasuke watched the boy erecting a large tent. "I only know what I have been taught. That to do otherwise is dangerous. For Uchiha specifically."

"Dangerous? In what way?"

"That is also private. But feeling runs deep in my clan. Too deep for unrestricted interaction between the sexes. It would limit our power."

The master actually stopped breathing in his excitement. "I see." And he did, may the Demon blind him. The Uchiha, it was said, were the fiercest of warriors after the Hyuuga. Many were of the belief that they were on par with the Hyuuga. For certain, the Uchiha were one of the mightiest clans to ever live. Such was their passion in battle that an Uchiha in possession of Sharingan was one of the most coveted prizes under the heavens. 'Twas thought that all their power lay in the eyes. But common sense afforded one the understanding that passion was a thing of the mind, the heart. And if, as it was known, the Uchiha were the fiercest in battle, then it must follow that they were the fiercest in bed sport as well. In which case it made sense to keep all interaction supervised. Well, it did not make sense to him but he supposed, to a religious clan like the Uchiha, that carnal abandon was some sort of blasphemy. Something that detracted from their strict rules. If that was the case, and the only bonds that were allowed to develop were those within the family…

"Your brother did not sell you lightly."

"No. He did not."

"Nor did you part from him easily."

"I did not."

"Truth, it was survival that drove him. Your survival."

Sasuke looked at his hands. Willed himself not to cry. "We have never been parted. Until now."

The master grunted. "Perhaps he is not such a Dakhna as I thought." The boy stepped away from the tent and began gathering wood for a fire. "Come. Let us continue our original conversation inside. Your grief is heavy and I would divert you."

-oOo-

Sasuke didn't know what to make of such consideration. Once inside the tent –a wide and spacious affair- he turned to find the master removing his robe to sit down nude. The ground inside the tent was covered with furs the boy must have picked up when he bought the tent. His feet nearly wept in gratitude. The master beckoned him and he sat to his left, as before.

"Very well. You do not know mating. Show me what you do know of pleasuring another."

Sasuke remained as he was.

"Was there no touch given in your family that you considered pleasing?"

Pleasing. That was different. And yet this did not afford him a wealth of choice. Frowning, he reached forward and grasped the master's hand where it rested on his knee. Held it.

"Is that all?"

He had to quell the resentment that sprang up, but he moved closer, rose to his knees, and gave an awkward embrace.

"Cease."

He sat back gratefully.

"This will not do. My appetites do not suffer abstinence well. That which makes me more than a man demands I be fed. I need to fuck. Preferably one at least learned in the art. You are like water to one who craves meat. No. The time and care it will take to rouse your lust given the years spent suppressing it is not what I need now." He looked aside.

Upset hummed along the chain. Sasuke sat captivated. The master's need was like pins and needles. Odd to know this, feel it in his skin, and yet be fully aware that the knowledge was wholly in his mind and not his own skin.

At length the master did look at him again. "I sense amusement in you."

"I am not. Merely curious."

"Mm." The master raked his nudity. "Give me your foot."

Sasuke frowned at the way his foot was almost completely covered by one huge hand, healed, and then simply held. His other foot was healed with the touch of one finger. The master's focus remained on the foot he continued to hold.

"High One…what are you doing?"

"Thinking. I have never been presented with the likes of you. I find myself unsure of how to proceed."

"Thank you for healing me."

A potent blue stare that had him stiffening.

"Slaves do not thank their masters. Not with words."

A thumb nearly half the size of his foot pressed into the arch, kneading there. His muscles responded by relaxing at once.

"Most often a slave gives thanks by performing tasks to please their owners. Then too, most owners do not go out of their way to please their slaves. Nor are most owners mindful of a slave's care. Slaves are slaves. Expendable. They have neither rights nor need of comfort."

The hand moved to his calf, closed around it in a grip warm and hard, and squeezed.

"You are no slave. I must needs remind myself of this often. You were neither born nor bred to obey." The other hand grasped his other calf and squeezed there as well. "Yet you are mine nonetheless. You will bend to my will, Nameless." The master met his eyes. "Else I will break you to it. There can be no obeying in your way."

Sasuke studied the emotions coming through the chain. Sincerity. Beseeching. Concern. "It is understood, High One."

Such relief and gratitude flooded the chain that Sasuke almost smiled. The master did smile. Broadly. Sasuke stared at all those teeth.

"That is well, Nameless, very well. I am mindful of your blood. Never think I am not. You are Uchiha. I'll not mistreat you if you but obey me, but I must be obeyed. And I must be satisfied."

Sasuke kept his eyes on the master's but noted that the hands were now on his thighs and rubbing. "Are my wants to be considered at all in this arrangement?"

"Elaborate."

"I do not want to touch you in that way."

"Have you reasons outside the dictates of your clan?" The hands were removed completely.

"Yes. It is repulsive. I cannot fathom worse behavior. Truth, I have tried to consider acts worse than what I witnessed between you and His Eminence, but there is nothing filthier than that."

The master backed away from him. "I would laugh were your ignorance not so chilling. To fuck is to eat or drink. A need that must be satisfied like hunger or thirst. To deny the self pleasures of the flesh is to die. 'Tis as plain as that. You would condemn me for something so common?"

Sasuke thought. "Yes. We do not bond any who have touched another in my clan. One who has been touched is unclean. Tainted. Unfit to bond or breed."

"The Demon's Balls, why?"

"I only tell you this that you may know I will never be a willing participant to it. I will resist you. You may command me until I die, but never will I do what you did with His Eminence."

"I find this of great interest." He regarded Nameless. Loathing and resolve like iron came through the chain. "How is bonding performed? A ceremony?"

"Yes."

"Then I will bond you."

Sasuke stood and yanked the chain hard enough to pull the master's arm from his side. Truth, the master felt his shoulder socket twinge with pain he found titillating in the extreme. He likewise stood, ready for whatever his slave planned to do.

"Do not ever jest about the practices of my clan," Sasuke said. His voice shook and it was an effort to keep his eyes natural. "I would never bond with the likes of you. I would never choose you. Do not utter what you do not understand."

Smiling in wonder, the master said, "Commands. From you. Your sense has fled. You have no power over me-"

Sasuke closed his eyes, accessed Mangekyo, and sliced at the chakra that held him captive. One quick burst with all the power he could summon. The effort left him winded, but when he opened his eyes, now black again, he was rewarded with a welcome sight.

The master's head was still back from the force of his attack. When that head lowered it was to find the master's nose bleeding heavily from both nostrils and his eyes bulging.

Sasuke did nothing to hide his smirk. "Additional oaths cannot be sworn once the chain is put on another. That much I understand. I swore to obey. I did not swear not to harm you. You can command me not to harm you, but, as you see, I can get around your commands. Now. You do not know me. And what you know of the Uchiha is as little as most people know, so take heed. I am not violent under normal circumstances. Nor am I so young that I fail to see the wisdom of my brother putting me in your safekeeping. I will do as you ask to the best of my abilities, but there are some things I hold inviolate and this matter of fucking is one of them. I will do all that you ask of me within reason, but not this. Never this."

The boy came in then with three roast rabbits on a spit. He looked at the master's bleeding nose, at Sasuke, and stood as if scenting the air for threats.

The master's fists were clenched. Veins in his forearms stood out. Every muscle in his body was tensed as hard as stone. He wanted Nameless dead, his beauty be damned.

No one in the history of his existence had ever dared strike him in anger. That one did so now, one inferior to himself, his own cursed property, was beyond imagination. Nameless must die. But as long as he himself lived, Nameless couldn't die.

"It seems I have erred; my oath does keep me from slaughtering you. Truth, I cannot harm you. Not truly. Not without equal harm to myself. And while I live that will not change. So know this: when I find your brother I will exact payment for what he has done to me. He will die, Nameless. Slowly. Painfully. And you will watch. Now turn your face from me. Need I look at you a moment more I may yet find a way to kill us both."

Sasuke felt dipped in ice. He turned and carefully sat with his back to the master. He could feel his eyes on him. Like branding irons set against his back. A deep, dark rage far worse than what occurred over the incident of the loincloth throbbed along the chain. It left him ill. Itachi…what have I done? Help me! "I am sorry. Is…is there any chance my temper still meets with your approval? As…" He struggled to recall the exact wording. "As a source of enjoyment in the taming of me?"

"That you dare speak to me while I am near senseless intrigues me. At present I am not amused, Nameless, so no."

Sasuke swallowed. "You can instruct me."

"Best close your mouth else I rip the tongue from your head."

Not a command, he realized after consideration. "So that I can…" Gods take my life now. "…pleasure you." He waited. "High One?" He hadn't been instructed not to turn around. A glance behind himself gave him a bad fright, though. The master sat motionless, but his eyes were a baleful red. "I will obey you in everyth-"

"Silence."

The force behind that command was such that for a moment he could not breathe. A moment long enough to illustrate that this was no accident. Breath returned to him on a gasp that had him coughing.

The master looked to his alma. "Go back to the village we passed. Bring me a body. Any body. Do not come back without one if you value the hide you stand in. Run."

The rabbits were hastily set on the furs as the boy slipped from the tent.


But he'd gone no farther than a few meters when the sky crashed down nearly atop his head in a shower of grit. When he lowered his arm it was to behold a stunning sight: A woman, clad in ragged strips of silver, stepping from a sphere of sand that dissolved from its shape as he watched. His master barged from the tent a moment later, face still bloody, and pulled up short at the same sight. Nameless peered from behind their master's back, then stepped around him fully at seeing it was only a woman.

They all watched her turn in a circle, surveying land and sky, before facing the master. She beheld him nude, took in all parts of him, then hurried forward. They saw the familiar way she handled the oblong she carried with one hand, the way she planted it on its end at her side as she placed a fist on her chest. "I am Her Blessing, The Chaste. Sister to His Eminence and Glory," she said. "My brother spoke of you. Highly. You are the Last. And you are my only hope."

He saw Nameless raise a brow. The master merely stared where one of her breasts sat plump and sweaty for all the world to see. He personally wondered what would happen, since the woman was strong. Come to think on it, he'd made note of this same woman soaring past their rooftop after Nameless fainted. Just before the attack. He looked at the oblong by her side. That thing was what he'd seen her on, some kind of fan.

"I am favored by the Demon Himself," the master murmured. "I send my alma for a body, and one falls from the very skies. Ten Tails, and such a body it is." He licked his chops. Inhaled long and slow. Finally raised his eyes to hers. Squinted. "Your beauty speaks to my cock most strongly."

"Be damned to your cock, you lowlife khrote! Have you not heard my words?"

He knew that look of fascination on his master's face. It meant someone had challenged him and he meant to correct them. The same look he'd had when Nameless made that jest with the loincloth. Which he himself had privately thought funny. He peeked at Nameless now. There was a frown on his face.

"I heard your words," the master said. "Your brother spoke-"

"Then you are lower than a khrote. A phel, a dris, and a mortukan you are. May the essence you carry eat your heart and the Demon by which you swear fill your brains with sand. Perhaps then you would function as a man."

The master's cock thickened until the tip was a red bulb eloquent of his fury.

"Unless you lack sense utterly, you will remember just what it was you fled from."

The master's lips barely moved. "I do."

"And the fact that my brother did not flee."

A blink. The cock deflated somewhat. "Your brother has fallen."

"No! The sands preserve him, never. But…he has been beaten. I know it. I feel it. He has sent me to you. For protection, but I am now ruler of the Land of Wind. While I breathe, Suna yet lives. You must help me."

"I journey to Ascension. What aid you seek cannot be rendered by me."

"But you must. You are the only one powerful enough to rescue my brother."

"If His Eminence and Glory was bested, then he has fallen. I felt his essence walk free as I fled. If the sacred essence itself could not save him, then-"

"Your essence is more powerful. You are the Last. The Last. What force in this world could be greater than your own?" She went to her knees. "As ruler of Suna and the Land of Wind, I beg you. But name your price and it will be done. You must save him. He lives. I feel it in my blood, he yet lives. Please." Her head lowered with this last whispered plea.

"Your request would suggest you know well what you ask. That I give up my Ascension. Were I to entertain such a thought, the price would be heavy."

She lowered her head further. "It is understood."

"And you would carry this shame? Place it upon your brother's head, should we find him living?"

"What I do as ruler will be my burden and mine alone. What is your price?"

The master said nothing. Only looked at her wild hair. There was sand in it that fell with her tremors.

"I beg you," she said again. "Suna will be yours. I will pledge fealty to you, and our land to yours, ever your ally. Only save my brother."

"What good will fealty or allies do me when I will have forsworn my Ascension? I would be ruler of nothing more than the pile of sand you arrived in."

She waited. Her shoulders jerked once, twice, and he thought maybe she was trying not to voice her grief; he could see tears falling on her knees.

"Stand."

She did as bidden.

The master ran his eyes over her. "You will be my consort. That is my price."

"No."

"You offered me anything."

"Anything but that. I am Her Blessing, The Chaste, ruler of Suna. My virtue is my name, my land, my duty. To give up my virtue would be to betray my people and their faith in me. My very identity would be lost. There is no bargain that will be struck with my virtue. Never."

"If we find your brother living, Suna is mine. From your own lips. What need would you have of your people or their faith then? You have already given them up, as well as your brother's rule. And since you give yourself to me your identity is already lost." He gazed at her without blinking. "Your virtue."

Her voice was anguished. "Never. Please."

"Then speak your brother's name."

The fan was open and in her hand, the edge pressing against the master's throat before he could properly see the movement. All he heard was the metallic hiss of it being handled.

The master was unmoved. "Heed me. Your brother is my friend. We shared much. But what you ask of me is no small matter. I have prepared for my Ascension from infancy, as have you I am sure. Should I forfeit it, I cannot become. 'Twould forever be lost to me, my birthright. One does not cast off Ascension. Therefore, if I must violate my oaths so must you. I will save your brother. For the payment of your body. Whenever I have need of it."

"Truth, an Ascension is no small matter. A gift given to precious few. A mere consort does not justify the abandonment of your Ascension."

"And yet you are no mere consort. You are Her Blessing, The Chaste. I do not abandon it for a small matter. Your brother is my friend. This is sworn. I cannot and will not forsake him. His life is greater than the value of my Ascension. But I will be paid."

She continued to hesitate.

"Do not demure to me, woman. I can smell the heat between your legs. The jut of your chin says you will fight me, but the points of your breasts say you want me to prevail. What say you? Are we agreed?"

Her chin went higher even as more tears fell. "We are."

"Then it is final. Should we find your brother indeed fallen, naught in the agreement will change."

"If my brother is fallen the agreement is done. You touch me no more and Suna is mine, no ally to you."

The master was silent a long time. "It is agreed." He took a step that put him close to her and ripped the remains of her shruda away.

"My brother first."

"Your body first."

This time he watched. The master bedded men and boys often, but women seldom. 'Twas rare to find any strong enough to suit his tastes. This woman was almost a man in her ferocity. He looked to see what Nameless made of the coming entertainment and found the slave scowling. Sure enough…

"Stop,"Nameless said.

The master left off hefting Her Blessing's breasts to slowly turn his head. Nameless glared at him. "You do not dare," the master hissed. "Not even you would be so foolish as to thwart me now. Already your brother's death is promised. You-"

"Know this," Nameless said. "Chain or no, I am done obeying you. This woman asks for help. You would violate her modesty to satisfy your becursed lust? You are no man. Nor are you even a dris, as she rightly called you. You are less than the dung from your arse, you contemptible son of a diseased phel. May hell know your name before I let you touch her. Your Blessing," Nameless called. "You are under my protection. I bid you step behind me."

The master and Her Blessing were as still as he was. Truth, it nearly cost him his silence not to laugh. Even so, tears stung his eyes. Prized beyond measure, was Nameless. His stupidity was an unending source of amusement he treasured almost as much as his master's life. He calmed himself to hear what reply could be made to such a statement.

Her Blessing looked Nameless over from crown to heel. "You are beautiful and powerful, to be sure," she told him. "But one cannot fail to note your chain. Or deduce that only oaths would keep one of your magnificence in such circumstances. 'Tis plain you are in no position to help me. Your offer is welcomed and will not be forgotten…yet refused." She turned to the master.

But the master moved away from her, toward his slave. The punch he sent to his face dropped Nameless like a stone. He did not rise. The master spent a few moments with his head bowed, eyes closed. Letting the effects of the punch fade, he surmised. When the master turned for Her Blessing, it was with eyes red and cock ready. He moved back a few paces to give them room.


She felt every muscle in her body tighten to see that great blond beast come toward her. From birth was she schooled in the guarding of her virtue. To give it up was no small thing, perhaps the gravest act she had ever committed. She was disgraced. Even if her sacrifice bought her brother's life, she would no longer be fit to rule or bear a title. Little better than yon slave.

He closed a hand in her hair and the hand she still had on her fan twisted, slicing him nearly in half with the weapon. She spun away from his roar, saw his innards fall to the ground amidst a shower of blood, and did not wait. Her fan danced in her hands, opening his neck, nearly severing an arm, splitting his skull to the nose. He lay broken and bleeding and singing his death rattle, and she was cleansed. Freed of the shame of bargaining her virtue away. Only after he'd bested her would he have his payment.

She watched as the essence he carried became a storm around his body. That quickly did she find herself writhing on the ground from its strength, robbed of breath. Such was the weight of his power that she was pressed to the sand she flailed in, her bones creaking in protest and near to breaking. And then it stopped. She took breath in great gasps, feeling as if she would float off the ground in the absence of that power.

Indeed she was raised, but it was a hand like steel around her arm that pulled her up. She was hauled to his chest, anchored by an arm equally unyielding around her waist, and her thighs wrapped around his torso. She clamped his body with her thighs only so she could rain her fists down on his unmarked face. She spat at his eyes, tore his hair, bit his face until she tasted blood, but all he did was bury his hand in her hair and yank her head back until she thought her neck would snap. She heard growling by her ear before fangs pierced the skin on her throat. His power entered her, moved along her nerve-endings, and she clutched his shoulders against her will, her sex swollen and hot and wet for him. Two thick, rough fingers rasped across her sensitive flesh before pushing inside her to shred her innocence.

She gasped.

The pain excited her...and that shamed her. She bit his shoulder. Hard. If he felt it he did not respond, other than to pull his hand free of her body, meet her eyes, and suck her blood from his fingers.

-oOo-

He had her there in her brother's sand. She was pressed to it, her thighs held wide by his body. She felt his manhood nudge her, testing her wetness. Her belly quivered at his perceived size, but there was no time to feel fear. He was entering her, splitting her, filling her to bursting with unstoppable force. And then he began moving.

She would be lying if she said the sound of her brother's frequent matings never warmed her blood or made her resent her position as his sister. There were times she fumbled for release with her own hand. Times she wet her pillow with tears for the knowledge that she would never hold a man or bear his child. Desire and lust would always be forbidden to her.

But this…

She entered the world of passion on his fierce strokes with all the abandon of one born to it. Her identity of ruler and sister to a ruler were beaten away by each deep thrust, each soul-shivering retreat that brought forth her screams at the unholy friction. Her body was not her own. It woke and clawed its way out of her skin, hot and sweating and soaring free of her mind. The spasms were the end of her and the beginning. And then it happened again. And yet again, her entire body locked around his. She drew blood with her nails, with her teeth…but then, when she thought there could be no greater wonder than his body in hers, he put his mouth to her lips.

That such a man as he, after the fury of his possession, could be capable of such gentleness would not have occurred to her scattered mind. She was gentled in turn, calmed from her wild frenzy, as he pushed her lips apart with his own and gave her his tongue. She did not know what to do with it. Until he showed her. That her quailing heart could again be brought to a gallop with so minor a touch left her shaking. Soft and soft, was his mouth. Now it was she who pulled his hair.

He rolled with her. She found herself astride his staff and the depth had her screeching to the heavens. He grasped her waist, showed her the movements, but his size was too great; another crisis weakened her where she sat, shaking her limbs until he sat up with her and held her close. Held her still, his lips to her ear.

"Your sheath is sweet death," he panted. "You will have me giving my name. Stop. Be still." His breathing was harsh in her hair. "The Demon take me. Your brother did not drain me thus. I can scarce breathe." Some minutes passed wherein he stroked her back and she trembled with fatigue. Then, "Again," he said. "Until I am sated."


The essence spoke to him and thus did he become aware. "I HAVE FAILED."

He watched the essence reform its shape behind its prison inside him. "Failed?" Never had he heard the words. "Suna is lost, then." No! No. He made himself calm. "My sister lives. My people. They are Suna. It is I who have failed and I who am lost. So be it." He looked up at the essence. Nodded. "So be it. Suna falls to my blood. May she lead well."

-oOo-

Upon opening his eyes the many injuries he'd sustained had him clenching his jaws against a scream. Such was his pain that he nearly lost consciousness again, but someone leaned into his line of sight.

"Ah. I see you've returned to us, Your Eminence and Glory. Be welcomed to the end of your life."

The person, a man, smiled at him. His beauty was noted, but it was his eyes that interested him. Sharingan. An Uchiha, then. "Who are you?"

"I'd hoped you speak! I feared I might have been too harsh in my efforts to subdue the First. It does me such good to see your mind intact, that we may converse before your Passing. My name, in answer to your question, is Uchiha Madara…oh. Oh. My apologies. Names are forbidden here. I'd forgotten. I've only just stepped from seclusion, such details escape my memory on occasion. Not that you'll be alive to appreciate it but that was a momentary lapse on my part. Never to be repeated. Do forgive me."

Suna's last ruler turned his head aside, frowning toward what had once been the village.

"Your Eminence?"


"Sands preserve me, heed my-"

Something happened at last. The sounds of battle had ended some time ago. All was still. She trembled in the mound of sand covering her.

A sound. At first she thought she'd been spotted. Then she felt the sand beneath her sink. She closed her hands over the sand she held and pressed her fists to her mouth to keep in her cries.

The desert drew her down, a pocket of air around her. She was sped away from the village in this manner. Her passage created a rumbling sound that shook her little cocoon but she was unafraid; safety, sanctuary, and shelter were hers. "Thank you," she said against her fingers. "Thank you, thank you, thank you. May you live until the end of days, Your Eminence and Glory."


Sasuke woke to a raging headache, the master's grunts, Her Blessing's squeals, and the steady clap of flesh on flesh.

With His Eminence and Glory the chain had been removed from the master's wrist. Not so now. As such, the riotous lust and desire coming through the chain was enough to knock him senseless again. Almost. For the moment, the master's body and the sensations it experienced took all his awareness. Monstrous, foreign sensations that curdled his stomach.

I will remain still until it is over.

But there did not seem to be an end in sight. The light told him he'd been unconscious for more than an hour. He could well be subjected to the master's activities for hours yet, if his time with His Eminence and Glory was an accurate measure of the master's appetites.

The strongest yearning to kill came over him as he felt and heard the master's release. An utter incapability to tolerate anymore injustice. His clan. His parents. His brother. And now his free will. His self. He'd lost too much. Would lose no more. So now, while Her Blessing moaned as the master's passion rekindled, and while he himself felt a calming lack of emotion, he examined his link to the chain anew.

No. He was not completely without emotion, he found. But such was his fury, impotence, and fright for his life that he was given a state of clarity he never experienced. With it came access to strength he seldom, if ever, possessed. Enough for him to set his chakra against the master's without his Bloodline Limit. He pushed. Felt no resistance. Pushed again, and felt the entire massive weight of the master's control shift. Not much, but enough for him to slip a protective layer of his own chakra between his brain and the master's chakra, thereby insulating his mind.

The master roared his release yet again.

And that is why he removed the chain while with His Eminence and Glory. The thought was like a fireball he'd yet to release. He nearly roared himself, his victory was so keen. Brother. I have found the chain's weakness. Of sorts. But I will still murder you when next we meet for selling me at all.

The weight of the master's chakra soon became too great to continue holding. With his joy at victory, even one so small, his strength faded. By the time the master rolled from Her Blessing he had his makeshift shield retracted deep within himself. The better to escape detection when the master's senses returned to him. The knowledge that he was not now completely at the master's mercy filled him with such contentment that he was able to follow the master's curt command to clean him without a shred of resentment.

-oOo-

The master stood and nearly pitched to the ground again. A hand to his chest verified that his heart was still galloping. Even his vision was blurred. He let many minutes go by as Nameless wiped him down and Her Blessing made an attempt to salvage some part of her shruda.

Nameless.

His slave had angered him. Struck him. But now Nameless cleaned him with strong, sure strokes that soothed the ache in his muscles. He studied his slave as Nameless now moved in front of him. Nameless used the cloth to wipe sweat from his neck and chest, eyes down.

"Look at me."

Nameless had eyes of unrelieved black. Not a color he'd seen in eyes before meeting him and his brother. There was no rage in those eyes now. Nothing but quiet came through the chain. Quiet and stillness.

The chain was never quiet. From the moment he put it on Nameless hatred, anger, and resistance all but flooded his senses. Especially resistance. Always that resistance. But now…nothing.

And the eyes were steady. Unblinking. Fearless. Without breaking the stare, he grasped his end of the chain where it hung from his hand. He probed the connection with his chakra. Nameless was powerless while chained, and had been unconscious during his sport with Her Blessing. He could find no fault in the chain or their link, and yet… "What did you do."

The question's meaning was clear, but Sasuke found that several truths would suffice. He picked one. "I slept."

He felt no lie, but something about the tone his slave used set his teeth on edge. "With the chain, dog, what did you do?"

"What I always do. I explored the nature of your chakra's interaction with mine."

"You will never again explore the chain, my chakra, or the nature of our link."

"It is understood." He blinked. "You wish to be free of the chain. It is possible I could bring that about. However, you have commanded me, so I will obey."

"In your way?"

"In the way all slaves are meant to obey."

The master continued to hold his slave's gaze, but even with careful consideration he could not believe the youth before him had the strength to overpower him. Were Nameless unchained, the full brunt of his clan's power blazing, he could not best him. Chained, most assuredly not. Then he recalled their words in the tent and a grunt escaped him. The threat to his brother's life had cooled his slave's blood, it seemed. Good. Too much else had come to pass for him to focus on the inconvenience of his slave at present.

He turned to his alma and Her Blessing. "We go now."


When she was gently pushed to the surface it was in the center of a group of people who all stopped talking at seeing her emerge.

"Look…she was in the battle," someone said. A man bent to her face. "How fares His Eminence and Glory?"

"Is he well?"

"Is victory ours?"

"Does Her Blessing, The Chaste fight at his side?"

"Is the battle over?"

"Tata!"

That shout cut through all the questions. She threw her hands up, blinded by tears, one fist still clutching sand. "Papa!"

Her father's strong arms swept her up and squeezed her. She felt his lips in her hair. The scent of him filled her nose. His breath was warm and his voice thick with relief. "Truth, but I thought you lost to me. What happened?"

"I did what you taught me. The sand saved me." She pulled back to see his face. Scores of other faces surrounded them both. She met their anxiousness with a smile. "His Eminence and Glory lives! Suna is not fallen!"

The cheer in the northern caves was deafening.


"Suna is fallen," Madara intoned. "You are fallen." He waited, but His Eminence continued to look away. "Have you a relative to speak your name once I claim your life?"

His Eminence and Glory closed is eyes.

"A wife, perhaps? A sibling?"

Silence.

"Your indifference to my courtesy pains the heart. I confess myself disappointed. However, I'll not disturb the Peace of your Passing further. I understand that, like names, death is sacred in your lands." His chakra swelled until it lit the air around him. "I will end this now, as you seem to wish. Akatsuki! Attend. Extraction begins."

His Eminence and Glory kept his eyes closed, his Peace in Passing intact. Few slain in battle were able to achieve the Peace in the moments before their Passing, but the Peace was a practice in all cultures. It was mandatory no matter the deity one prayed to, that reflection on one's days of living could be performed and one's name spoken before the Pass. Thus was the circle of their existence complete. Clearly the Uchiha knew nothing of such refined practices.

His end was close now. His sister was with the Last. Suna's people were safe. He'd been just and honorable in life. Peace was his in death. His circle was complete. "My name is G-"

A blast of displaced sand had him shielding his face. The men and women of Akatsuki cried out from where they surrounded him. He was able to peer between their legs and so beheld the same sight that had his captors silent.

Well. I did not think to see him again so soon. Sister, sister, what have you done?