Authors note:

Hey guys, another installment of my Madara series.

I hope you like this one, it's a bit longer which I hope will satisfy some readers ;)

A huge thanks to Kiwi4life, hanae-croix, tinasan25, Dynamo (guest) and SeraphimSera for reviewing!

Display pic: credit to whitesasuke (Deviant art)

Madara pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

If someone didn't shove a kunai down the whining feudal lord's throat in the next 3 seconds, he was going to do it himself.

In front of his entire clan.

Using susanoo.

Possibly even amaterasu.

Madara didn't believe in using powerful justsus recklessly but he would make an exception for this man.

The feudal lord of the neighboring land, a tubby middle-aged man with yellow teeth and oily hair, had been complaining to him for the past hour regarding the substantial loss of taxes as a result of the on-going shinobi battles in the past year.

In other words; he wanted his wine and whore money.

Madara had no patience for this kind of man – one who couldn't rule, command or direct his subjects. One who abused his power and wealth for personal gain rather than the good of his people and country. Misaki Koji was this kind of man. A lecherous, womanising drunkard who only cared about filling his own pockets, stomach and desires.

It was common knowledge that Samurai refused to serve him, and with good reason. His name was associated with dishonour, shame and a complete lack of integrity. His subjects lived in poverty, sickness and strife while he dined on exquisite cuisine, drank expensive wine and dwelled in majestic palaces. Who in their right mind would be willing to give up their lives for such a man?

It took everything Madara had not to kill him on the spot.

He didn't think other clan leaders would object either.

How remarkably unfortunate that this shrimp of man somehow got the title of feudal lord, when there were others who were clearly more deserving and able was beyond him…War was rampant throughout the shinobi lands. Samurai were beginning to fall out in favor of highly skilled and stealthy shinobi. Truces were viewed as weakness and so, death circulated in a perpetual cycle of hate, revenge and a false sense of honor and duty. Everyone suffered and as long as there would be shinobi, there would be war.

And sadly, it was their only source of income.

Madara stood up from his throne-like-chair. "Misaki-san. I can understand your plight but my clan has suffered the loss of many able-bodied men during the recent battle with the Fuma and Arashi clans," An absolute lie, of course. "I'm afraid we are still in the process of recovering."

The feudal lord's seedy little eyes reflected his displeasure. "So you wont help me, then?" he bit out nastily. "Well, I suppose I will have no choice but to go to the Senju clan."

A malicious glee spread within Madara.

Finally – what better way to get back at Hashirama than to set this bubonic plague on him?

Normally, shinobi clans undertook missions and fought wars for high-paying clients. Usually these were the feudal lords who paid well and in advance of their services. The Uchiha clan suffered an economic loss during the last battle, but the casualty rate was less than 5%, thanks to Madara's extraordinary shinobi talent and ability to lead. And although they were in need of money, Madara had no intention to oblige this selfish little man. Nor did he want to soil the Uchiha name and reputation by being associated with him.

"If that is what you wish, Misaki-san. I will send a messenger informing Hashirama of your arrival."

Signed, 'To my dearest friend with compliments. Regards, Madara Uchiha...'

Izuna watched the interaction with amusement.

Madara and Hashirama were always at each others throats and their childish antics never failed to entertain him.

"Nice work, aniki." He said, following Madara into his chambers once the audience had been adjourned, "Although Hashirama-san will enjoy your little joke, I cant say the same for Tobirama will. "

Madara ignored him and turned his attention to his guard. "Tell them I will have supper in my chambers this evening, –"

'Like you do every night since you came back?' Izuna thought miserably.

"– and I do not wish to be disturbed."

"Yes, my liege." The guard nodded humbly and went to carry out the order.

Alone in the vast room, Izuna closed the door behind them.

"You can't avoid them forever Madara." He sighed. "Sooner or later you will need to face them and give them what they want: an heir."

Madara's back was towards him and he could see his shoulder muscles tense at the statement. "I've said it before and I will say it again Izuna: I have no intention to marry or take a mistress. My ambition requires my full attention. You are well aware of this and yet you continue to test my patience." He scolded, walking behind a large, timber desk and taking a seat. "And I already have an heir: You."

Izuna shook his head and approached the desk topped with parchment, scrolls and writing tools. "No. This time I disagree with you aniki. Wars are being waged left, right, and center. We need to secure the future of this clan. We nearly lost you in the last battle. I almost you."

Madara scoffed in response, taking the first scroll from the pile and absentmindedly scanned its contents. "It will take a much more than a petty ambush to ruin me. You should know that by now."

"You are not as invincible as you like to think, Madara!" Izuna said, slamming his hands down on the wood. "And the battle against the Fuma clan is a evidence of this! Please be reasonable, aniki – can't you see that an heir is the only way to continue our bloodline?! And surely, there must be someone you find desirable… or at least agreeable?"

Madara didn't flinch as he glared at his younger brother, "I desire power."

"And I desire for you to get a haircut!" Izuna countered, eyebrows bunching in anger and temple vein throbbing. "That way, perhaps reason might penetrate to your thick head occasionally!"

Then, he slammed the door behind him just as a kunai flew right through the space where his head had been.

No one mentions a haircut to Madara.

No one.

After short time after Izuna tantrum, Madara removed his clan robes, opting to change into a pair of comfortable black pants and a blue, high collared shirt. He reclined on his large bed and fingered the scroll he had written months before but couldn't bring himself to send.

He poured himself some sake, neat. It was strong and bitter – just way he liked it.

Six months ago, he was stranded on a lake-shore exhausted from battle when a woman found him. Beautiful, charming and witty; Aria was unlike any woman he had ever met. And although he was slightly put off by her in the beginning, during the time he recuperated in her house, her bizarre ways and nature had sparked his interest.

In a purely third person, non-objective and deatched fashion, of course. Ahem.

Madara had refrained from providing her with any vital information that could enable her to figure out who or what he was. And he was certain that she would find out since she was perceptive and brilliantly sharp. Strange, that a farm girl knew how to read and write, and had intricate knowledge of herbal medicine, poisons and weaponry.

But her beginnings were far from ideal.

Turns out she was the daughter of an ex-shinobi general put to death for committing treason against a feudal lord. Her mother was an heiress who fled from her shinobi clan to marry him. Both of them were long since dead.

Not that she ever knew.

In her mind, her parents were humble farmers who lived a simple life outside the province. She knew nothing of their previous professions or lives.

And Madara only found out once he had returned to the Uchiha stronghold.

Disguised under investigational criminal reports along with a few names he did not care for to make it appear legitimate, Madara set his intelligence team to find out about her parents and origins. And then it all made sense.

He took another sip of sake and relished as the punishing liquid burned down his throat…

As he opened the scroll, a small trinket fell out.

Aria,

Words cannot describe my thanks for your hospitality.

Enclosed is a small token of my gratitude, although I shall forever be in your debt.

Haru.

Reading it for what must be the hundredth time, Madara sighed and came up with the answer he usually did.

It wasn't enough.

He held the delicately woven thread in his calloused hands; the necklace was of the purest gold and had a red ruby in the middle. Women were supposedly fond of these kinds of things weren't they? And even if she decided to sell it, it would probably feed her for three years.

Still, it wasn't enough to repay his debt to her.

But Madara was a fair and just man.

He owed her his life – and so, he would give her an eye for an eye.

A few quick hand signals later, a beautiful black falcon appeared on his arm. It cocked its head to side as her master laid precise, calligraphic strokes on a blank scroll. Then, he rolled it up and placed it in her outstretched leg.

"Go. Take this to her." He commanded.

The majestic bird let out a shriek as she flew out the window at amazing speed.

Madara stared out after his favorite messenger falcon - a gift to him from Izuna and one he prized dearly. He unconsciously let out a breath as he contemplated the consequences of what he had just written:

Dearest Aria,

I hope this scroll finds you well.

My apologies for the delayed correspondence; I have been busy as of late since I have returned to my clan and resumed my duties.

My thanks and gratitude are with you for what you have done for me, and I now wish to return the favor:

Below this scroll is a summoning seal. If you should ever find yourself in danger, place three drops of your blood on the seal and I shall come to your aid.'

Regards,

Haru

A/N: Yay, another chappie!

So what did ya think? =D

Please review and message.

And yes, I really am putting off updating 'Santuary' aren't I? Sorry. But I cant seem to get this out of my head! =)