This is my new AU fic that I talked about in Two Years and the Suna Karaoke fan fic. I am extremely pleased with it and they may be a little OOC right now but it will get better, I promise. And hopefully my grammar is better from reading this out loud to my sister. Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter 1

The young man frowned at the long dinner table. He was surrounded by loud men, all eating cacophonously, while they screamed about their wives, money, or latest mistress. He longed for the confines of his small, lush estate with his books and games. Here in court there was no one to see, no one to really bother with. All of his compatriots had gotten sent away to war or on an expedition or were doing other things, such as his best friends Ino and Choji who had just gotten married and were settling down in their new place about one and a half days horseback ride away from his home.

The new Queen caught his eye, though not in a seductive way. The Queen was older, elected by the Elders Council after King Sarutobi had died. She was one of the strongest mages in all the land and after much searching for, she agreed to help rule the kingdom. Even with all the pigs in the room, she sat up straight, regally, and as she breathed, her bosom rose slightly, suppressed by her corset and was eyed greedily, often for that reason. He knew better though. Even if he had been attracted to the Queen at a first glance she was too old for him, already in her 50's, using magic of hide her old features.

But the Queen did not look away and her eyes sparkled, asking him why her head scholar looked so bored. He frowned and rolled his eyes at some men ruefully laughing at their latest sexual adventure. She smiled and laughed. This was to be expected at court. Live a life of scandal. Trust few. Gain friends in high places. Get married but sleep with her as often as the blue moon. The Queen knew all of this but he was one of her trusted few now. All the others had been sent away to the war front or were elsewhere. For once, he was the only one she could count on. That meant staying at the cold and closing walls of the castle. Soon however, he would be relieved of his duty as her older advisors returned for various places and he would receive the vacation he was promised.

The Queen stood and the large hall fell silent quickly, minus the laughter of the drunk rolling on the floor. She ignored him however and made her formal farewell for the evening. The men remained silent as she walked out of the room, pausing to look at him and give him an encouraging smile. If there was anyone that could reform this country, he thought, it would be her. He gave a small bow and she continued to exit, the hall silent as someone sleeping. The large doors were opened enough for her and then the tall doors were slammed shut and the uproar began again. This time however, it was not for conversation.

After the Queen's retire was the traditional "merchants hour." He never liked it but sometimes, the merchants had gotten their hands on interesting magical trinkets that no one paid attention to except for him. That was fortunate because they were worth all the gold in the treasury. Those trinkets only appeared every once and awhile though. The main attraction were the latest queens of the night. The men hooted, fought, and paid fortunes for one night. He never participated and watched these queens be dragged off- young virgins, experienced women, and girls old enough to be his younger sister by 8 years which was saying much considering he was only 23. The men around him mocked him, saying he was queer and could never be satisfied by a woman, which of course was a lie. One day, he would be satisfied but only by one woman. Not a paid whore.

The toothless dirty merchant came in bearing a cart covered by a sun-faded cloth. His eyes perked up, the merchant had something worth value to him. The bidding began and he bought a milky white stone that was exactly like some others he had bought. He could feel the magic inside of the stone as it warmed to his touch. The merchant also had some old texts which he also bought and was quite content with his purchases. The other men however were getting rowdy. After he had taken a good look at the rest of the merchants cart, because he was the only one who would buy anything from it, he sat down and the merchant covered the cart with his sun-faded cloth and grinned. The men in the room settled down and sat quietly as the merchant motioned for someone to come forward.

The process of the bidding was always quiet as a girl was being brought out, they didn't want to scare her. As soon as the merchant opened the floor for bids, it got wild. He usually left by this point but the men had forced him to stay, partially to see if he would bid and partially to make fun of him when he didn't. So, it began. The first girl was brought out, fought over and won. Then the next and the next, one after another. It pained him to see some of them up there, the ones that were new and didn't want to be bid on. He felt even worse for the ones that had accepted their fate and taunted and teased the men. It must be hard at first but when you know that this was all your life was going to be until you were too old, well, that must be heartbreaking.

And so he sat there, watching the girls go by and the men filter out one by one. The smart men however knew that the merchant always had an exceptional woman saved for last, and was always the most expensive. The men that made him stay were gone but he didn't feel like moving, so he decided to see who the lucky woman would be to walk out last. The merchant disappeared for a moment and said something loud, but he had blocked out noise soon after the bidding began, when the pure tinkling of beads caught his attention. He frowned, more alert. None of the merchant's girls wore beads or any sort of jewelry, their clothes alone cost quite a bit. Now he was curious and sat, his hands folded on the table, waiting intently for the merchant to appear again. The beads became louder and clearer and then- there she was.

The merchant was saying something about where she came from but he wasn't listening. All he could do was stare at her. Her skin was a dark brown, as though she'd been out in the sun everyday from sunrise to sundown. Her clothes seemed to be traditional clothing from her home, he had never before seen the long roomy white pants with strings of beads sewed at the waist line or the cloth that held all of her bosom hidden, also covered with strings of beads. Her shoes were golden slippers and her golden hair was in a bun with gold ornaments sticking out. What captivated him the most however was her face.

Her face was smooth and angular at her chin. Her lips were the perfect shade of pink and her nose and ears were perfect, not too large or small. White eye shadow was brushed delicately on her eyelids, her eyelashes enhanced with black ink. Then he looked into her eyes. Her eyes were like whirlpools- once they are glanced into, there is no way to escape them. It wasn't the color of her eyes, that was the only plain thing about her, but was the shape. Her eyes were ovals, shaded by her bangs, that seemed to curve upwards and meet at a delicate point with her eye lashes that seemed almost cat like, which was rather interesting. He saw her look around the silent room, turning her head slightly, when he noticed one side of her lips curve upward into a half smirk. This woman was not planning to become a whore, that was for sure. Then, he realized that there was a slight power radiating form her body, that no one could sense but him. She knew magic and wouldn't be afraid to use it.

He felt his own lips tug into a smirk as the room became as loud as a jungle. This woman was trouble but interesting. His quick thinking deducted that she was probably kidnapped off of the road while traveling and couldn't escape because she had no idea where she was and most likely came from the desert. If one didn't know a specific route through the desert, they were as good as dead. He sat there thinking about his options as to what action to take when her eyes locked with his. As soon as he saw her face pull slowly into an ironic half smile he stood up abruptly.

The merchant stopped his countdown for the final bid and looked at him. The room fell silent and then erupted into laughter. He heard many insults, laughter, and angry cries as he slid his hands into his pockets, still looking at the merchant. The merchant smiled slowly and asked in a friendly voice

"How much are you willing to spend for her, my Trinket Man."

He paused for a moment, but only for effect.

"Enough to buy her as a slave."

There was a loud outcry and many men moved towards him. Before they could reach him, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and swiped them out so that each palm was facing a wall, his arms outstretched. The men farther way from him stopped moving as those close to him were blown away by a strong gust of wind. The room fell silent and he noticed the woman's head cock to the side in curiosity. He jumped and touching to table lightly with his foot, entered the center of the hall where the merchant was standing.

"Think about it," he began, "After one night, she will become another one of your useless whores. She will never sell for the price that you will fetch tonight. However in order to try and obtain the same amount, you will pamper her with your finest clothes and jewels. She will drain you pocket father than sand sifting through one's hand. Why not just sell her as a slave and save money?"

An outcry rose from the men again but was silenced by the merchant raising his hand.

"Those reasons are reasonable but I will need more persuading than that."

The young man cast a glance at the woman who seemed amused by the whole ordeal. He lowered his head towards the merchant and spoke quietly so that only he, and perhaps the woman, would hear.

"Look at her face. She is not afraid of who you sell her to or what should await her tonight. She is amused by the suitors in front of her, fighting and squabbling for a prize they will never obtain. She has magic flowing in her, this is no ordinary woman. She will kill whoever takes her home tonight and flee in an attempt to find her way home. What do you care about that, you have your money right? Wrong. The men will become scared of your girls and fear will eventually end up with you penniless. Let me buy her as a slave, I can take on her power you have my word on it."

His last words melted into the merchants ear who looked nervously at the woman and then said "Name your price."

He could hear the woman follow him slowly down the hallway, sauntering with pride as the beads clicked gently together. When they reached the room the Queen had given him, he opened the door and she walked in, smiling a rather deadly smile to him. He shut the door behind him, never taking his wary eyes off of her. He sighed as he walked over to a table and set his new possessions on it. He disliked the room greatly, the grey stone wall seemed to close in on him and the tapestries and carpets were faded. Even the covers on the bed seemed old and the mattress was stiff. The only comforting thing about the room was the large chair by the fire that he loved to curl up in and read. He was eager to translate the books he had just bought but the woman came first. He pointed to himself and to the couch then to her and the bed. The cocked her head, puzzled by his actions when there was a knock on the door and a servant called out to him.

He opened the door and the servant had brought a nightgown and a blue dress. He dismissed the servant and read the note and smiled. The Queen was gracious to him. Kakashi and Gai had returned early so could he leave the next day. She had also heard of his interesting purchase and saw through his plan entirely. He set the note down and handed the clothes to her, which she accepted gingerly. He moved towards a door by the fireplace and motioned for her to come over. She walked cautiously but saw that the door way led to a bathroom. He gestured for her to enter and backed away from the door. She looked at him oddly and then closed the door behind her. He took the opportunity to quickly change into his bed attire. By the time she emerged, he was changed and already immersed in translating one of the books he had received.

He didn't notice her, in fact, until he felt her hair brush him as she looked over his shoulder. He leaned back a little and she took the book from his hands. She had washed her face clean of the makeup and he realized that she smelled of different exotic fragrances. Then he noticed her hair was wet and that she must have taken a bath. How long had he been sitting out here? She gave it back to him, her expression unmoving. She stared at him and his face flushed. What was he supposed to do now? He stood up and walked over to the couch. She stood her ground, her face hard now. He'd better let her know that he wasn't going to do anything to her else he'd end up in a sticky situation. He pointed to himself and the couch, her and the bed again, took the blanket on the couch, laid down, and fixed the blanket over him and shut his eyes. She should understand that motion at least. He heard her move slowly and he opened one eye. She had breathed a sigh of relief and her stony visage fell to reveal perplexed saddened one. She picked up the book he was translating and opened it to a random page. She stroked the text tenderly and looked over at him. He snapped his eyes shut but he knew she saw him awake. He heard her set the book down, pull back the covers, and lay down in the bed. He smiled, thankful that she wasn't going to kill him and soon drifted of into a peaceful slumber.