Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Naruto, owned by Makashi Kishimoto or Anita Blake, owned by Laurell K. Hamilton. Enjoy!
Madara coughed, he was badly wounded in some field in a place nowhere near his home. He’d been forced to flee his home dimension and now it would only be luck if he ever got back. The Kyuubi Jinchuuriki had somehow managed to defeat him with Sasuke’s help, little traitor, he ripped his eyes out and gutted him in front of that Uzumaki fool. Kid had hit him with his Futon: Rasenkamikaze when he wasn’t looking.
He’d managed to escape with his space-time technique but he’d pushed harder than ever and gone past his own personal dimension. He wondered where he was. He’d got the Fake to bring him back with Rinne Tensei but he missed Edo Tensei’s regeneration capabilities right now.
Slowly he reached up and performed a medical jutsu. It was night now and he could do with finding out where the hell he was. The jutsu finished healing his wound but his chakra was overused, his vision dimmed. He saw pale, beautiful people moving across the field towards him.
Belle Morte was intrigued; her servants had brought a man in from the fields which supplied the nearby villages with food. This was in and of itself nothing important except for the man… His body was… amazingly in shape, his clothing was strange, and worn and torn from the effects of fighting, yet he bore no wounds, carried no weapons and was apparently totally exhausted.
He was also taller than most people, over 6ft, a rarity in this century of mostly poverty or too much food of one kind or another. He also had scars, loads of them, as though he’d been fighting his whole life, and markings all over his body, some repeated and simple, others intricate, his skin and muscles were tough and his hands extremely rough, she wondered what he’d be like in bed.
She’d had him moved into her room, stripped and placed in her bed while she examined him. His breathing was silent and he reacted as she moved closer, body tensing yet asleep, interesting. He probably would have woken up if he wasn’t exhausted. The Ardeur slowly rose and she left to find someone to feed on, he wouldn’t awaken for quite a while likely. She left to go enjoy herself and put him out of mind.
Madara slowly reached for consciousness, there was nobody around him so he rose and took stock of his surroundings. No clothing- didn’t matter; he wasn’t restrained, silk bed (a noble maybe?). Dark colours, paintings, candles, no electricity. He heard someone in the corridor ahead and looked at the door. It opened slowly, they knew he was awake and where he was, good hearing or another sense then.
The woman who walked in was arguably the most beautiful he’d ever seen, she walked with confidence, a bit of arrogance, like he did, like she was the most powerful person in the room. She didn’t wear clothing or appear to care about modesty. Her eyes were locked on him. She was short by his standards but walked with controlled movements, she was fast and possibly strong yet didn’t had the muscles to be so, interesting.
Belle gazed at him, he’d looked at her like she was… what? An inferior? No he was judging her on her body, but no not beauty… he seen that and dismissed it oddly, he was a warrior presumably, definitely professional. He was relaxed, yet there was a hint of possibilities, of the laziness of a relaxed predator. She spoke softly to judge his senses.
“What is your name warrior?”
He was proud of his name, knew she wouldn’t recognise it yet was used to people knowing it. He spoke family name first, an eastern culture. He was waiting and expecting her to reciprocate.
“I am Belle Morte”
No sign of recognition but apparently knew he wouldn’t, interesting all the more.
“Why am I here?”
“Because my servants brought you here, you interested me.”
The black eyes watched her. He disliked not knowing the situation, he might be used to controlling it, a manipulator.
“What is this place?”
“Northern France, my castle.”
No recognition of the name still, gathering information.
“What are you?”
Her eyebrow rose for a moment, he knew she wasn’t normal then? He had enhanced senses or could tell she wasn’t ordinary.
No recognition of the name whatsoever, definitely far from home. Her turn.
“Where are you from?”
Madara watched Belle; she didn’t have a heartbeat, did breathe, had strangely twisted chakra, looked human but was a predator, called herself Vampire, didn’t even think of herself as human, was intelligent, seemed much older than she looked, judged him and was testing him.
“Konohagakure no Sato, Fire Country, Elemental Continent.”
No recognition either, didn’t know his culture then only knew what she’d seen of him, he wasn’t fully recovered, or even near but could easily escape.
“You’re not from around here are you?”
His lips curved.
She smiled like a cat.
“What are you?”
“Shinobi, Ninja, Assassin.”
Her eyes sharpened.
Interest, not doubt.
“What is this world like, what is a Vampire?”
The words were said deliberately.
Belle was extremely interested now, not from this world then, but human. Dimensional traveller perhaps, but no discernible way of doing so, in-born ability?”
“I will have you shown a map; it is the year 1581 since humans began to record their history properly. A vampire is a human who was been changed, we are no longer human, heal fast, move fast, are strong, immortal and feed on human blood.”
An answer that confirmed everything he’d previously thought yet told him nothing more except she healed faster and drank blood, didn’t say she couldn’t eat human food and left the idea she had more abilities unsaid. Didn’t say anything about culture or other creatures.
“What is a Shinobi?”
“An assassin who can manipulate the elements, create illusions, increase their strength, speed and durability, heal themselves and numerous other things by manipulation of the union of physical and spiritual energies called chakra.”
Her eyes widened in astonishment for a moment. Then turned calculating.
“My dear Madara, I feel this will be the start of a beautiful friendship.”
His eyes turned speculative for a moment, and then he nodded.