Chapter 12

However it has to be that every rule had an exception and on one particular day, in late November, Takeda of the Snow, walked through the wards of Malfoy Manor feeling particularly disappointed. If Mr Malfoy had been hoping to impress, he had failed abysmally. This aura of malice had nothing on the towers of the Black Magi guild that lived...somewhere in the southernmost parts of China. They could reduce armies to quivering messes merely through a single malevolent glance. And after talking civilly with them of all people, Takeda had been pleasantly surprised to find that nothing else held any sort of sway over him. It was as if he was immune to these lesser fears that plagued humanity. A welcome gift to any good negotiator.

Takeda took his seat, keeping the disinterested facade his profession demanded of him. It did not matter that for once, he was not expected to wrangle, or that he was merely a messenger, albeit a highly valued one. One did not survive this long by relaxing in a possibly hostile situation, remote as it was. So instead, he spent his time pondering the mysteries of the miserable creatures known as house elves. While he admitted that they were powerful if prodded, their total subservience to this bigoted section of humanity unnerved him. Every race had its pride, and the concept that these creatures served another with such absolute loyalty generated a plethora of feelings, the most prominent of which was pity.

A house elf bowed low, announcing his master, Lord Lucius Malfoy, and popped away. The man himself, walked in with his elegant (at least to pureblood tastes) black robes and a wooden cane. From the intelligence Hakumei had on him, Takeda knew that this was where his wand was, something he would keep in mind for if things turned unpleasant. He also noted that the man in front of him exuded arrogance, a byproduct of his upbringing. He also seemed to find this meeting distasteful, something his body language almost managed to hide. 'Interesting' Takeda mused, 'He no doubt categorizes me with the fools he associates with on a daily basis. Obviously he has no experiences outside these paltry Isles...Why can't I be reading instead of dealing with this menace? Why I could be resolving the scrolls of the lost arts! The tomes of the first sorcerer! And I do not even have to negotiate for anything this time. Its infuriating!''

The meeting was started in typical fashion, with tea. Of course, the Malfoys did not stock any variety of green tea, meaning Takeda was once again forced to quaff the viler version of that beverage derived from Camellia Sinensis, tea with milk. Not that he'd ever admit that he hated said drink; he was a diplomat after all.

Lucius observed his counterpart across the table with a tinge of curiosity. In all his years, he'd never actually met somebody from the eastern territories proper. The surplus of warlocks and sorcerers that resided there were content to sit in their somewhat alien lands. No Malfoy would ever deign to go to the eastern territories; it was simply not a proper thing to do. And to top it off, nobody in the British Isles really knew how to go about talking to a eastern sorcerer. Even the department of international co-operation did not have a true idea of what was going on 'over there'. Rumors were whispered about an immortal emperor, who lived in service to his people. Then again, the Forbidden City was quite well sealed, so it could be just that, a rumor.

The man himself was quite imposing, in spite of his shorter stature. In his ornate purple robes, he looked the very picture of restrained power, even if it was more a feeling than a sight. The eastern man held himself with dignity and an aura of overwhelming might seemed to envelope him. Lucius would have even have dared to say that the dark lord himself was less imposing than this alien man who was drinking tea with him in his living room. Malfoy had of course labored to hear at least some of the various rumors that floated around in the immigrant circles about the organization he had initiated contact with. He had expected an underworld syndicate in the fashion that muggles had created. Instead, all he heard about were the legends of the shinobi, the warrior assassin of lore. Lucius Malfoy had for a moment felt quite inadequate in his own combat ability after hearing those tales. After all, all legends had a basis in truth and these ones were still alive and active. At the moment he had this mind numbing feeling of irrelevance, one he had never had before, one that this person seemed capable of generating by merely existing.

The tea was finished in a solemn atmosphere, with just their sips piercing through the silence. It was quite depressing actually. And the calm and indifference this eastern man held himself with was not really conducive to casual conversation, so Lucius, as the host, endeavored to make the first move.

"I hope you found the tea satisfactory?" Takeda raised his head and smiled. "Indeed Mr Malfoy, it was quite refreshing." Lucius took a second to look thoughtful, then said, "I trust you do not find our English blends...distasteful?." Takeda's lips twitched in a very unnoticeable manner. "Ah, one does miss the greener brews, but I am not above finding pleasure in less familiar beverages." Lucius nodded minutely, as close as this Malfoy would ever get to a bow towards anyone not named Lord Voldemort Takeda returned the gesture, after all they both knew this was tantamount to a declaration of the other person's superiority by the platinum haired pureblood. And then the 'negotiations' followed.

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