asoiaf!naruto. set before chapter 14 of ADOFAF.

#AksaraAgustus2017 - inapu n. dani - a war ordered by the ancestors


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izuna was deeply asleep; tobirama was at the city gates, ready with an army. between his dying sister and her besieging brother, they were dancing on the tip of spears and swords, delicate branches and dragon's bones.

the war started by their ancestors wasn't over yet, and they must be alive to continue the dance until the end.

"i will not bend my knee," she told the carved face of her ancestor on the scorched tree, eleven moon phases ago, "there must be another way to end the war without sacrificing more blood of our people. i will do anything to protect the realm."

she was exhausted, vigilant, thirsty. his chakra was roaring madly wildly restlessly, filling every corner with his presence; unbidden and undeniable. if she weren't senju hashirama, she would simply lie back, close her eyes and think of the realm she was defending. but she was asura's blood, and him indra's.

they were at war. she would stand and look at her enemy-formerly a friend and a fiance, currently an emperor and her conspirator.

hashirama gripped the rims of his robe, hissing between his touches, this is treason against our allies. her back met the wall, heartbeat rising in anticipation. every inch of him was blazing, setting herself alight wherever his hands wandered.

madara shook his head. don't fool yourself; they're all opportunistic, using our names and blood and ancestors to protect their own interests. he found her lips easily in the darkness and heat of his bedroom; almost as hot as the legendary dragons' cradle.

she inhaled the scent of his mane, fingers trailing the nape of his neck. she buried her face near his clavicle, skirt hiked past her thighs, her breath hitched in her throat.

don't hold back.

the servants will hear.

don't care.

let me catch my breath.

madara retracted his hand, stepping back. hashirama was panting, a thousand thoughts swarming back into her mind, her chakra flaring, screaming, accusing: treachery.

no, their betrothal was never broken. let's say they were merely honoring the pact their fathers made years ago. the uchiha's blood oath would protect her from anyone who wished to see her dead. tonight might be their only shot. no healers could tell whether izuna would survive or die in her care.

hashi.

his robe fell. she pushed madara to his bed, drawn by her desire to explore him further, guessing where her enemy ended to begin her...

her what? friend fiance ally? rival? are these things still important before the war cries they're dancing to?

hashirama sat above him, memorizing and tasting the emperor. madara was a plane of muscles and battle scars; most she carved herself, and she smirked to that thought. she traced one across his right chest, a remnant from their first spar using an actual sword. another on his left side, near the hips, from their meeting in the woods on the day her powers awakened.

we don't have all night, he said as he unclasped her dress.

she threw away her clothes, almost seeing into his eyes that would break her first rule of war. with ease madara switched their position, sinking his teeth into her exposed neck. she clutched his back, gasping. the dragon had marked her.

hashirama opened her eyes to the dark canopy above them, thinking about the wreaked realm, their betrayed allies and siblings, their uncertain future-tomorrow the crown princess could die or her brother would storm the palace after four nights waiting or-

madara, madara, madara

-she could be waking up pregnant with an uchiha heir.