A/N-Ok I have an idea about another story I want to write but I'm having trouble with the two main characters. So I want you to help me choose. Please. It's about an ex-pirate who helps a boy find his kidnapped brother. His uncle arranged the whole thing. Please help me choose the main characters. Thank you!

Disclaimer-I do not own Naruto!

The Thief

Chapter 2

Sasuke moaned and put his hand to his aching head. It felt like a band of tiny warriors were shoving spears into it from the inside.

Otherwise, he was warm, and lying on something so marvelously soft that it could not be the ground. Clean linens covered him and a woolen blanket scratched his chin.

He warily opened his eyes to see a beamed ceiling overhead. Light came in through narrow windows shuttered by squares of white cloth.

He eased himself up on his elbows and surveyed the chamber. The walls were of grey stone, not the rough mud and dung spread over woven branches as in a cottage. And he was in a bed-a real bed, with a mattress of straw beneath him. A table with a basin and cloth, an old wooden chest that had once been painted black and red, and a stand holding a metal pan filled with glowing coals for heating the chamber completed the furnishings.

He could believe he had died and gone to heaven, except for his aching head.

Where was he? How had he come here?

The last thing he remembered was the fight with Orochimaru, and the frog, which belonged to a knight or lord or a rich merchant out hunting. Then Orochimaru had hit him and everything had gone dark.

Since he was not in a dungeon or imprisoned in a cell, Orochimaru and the others must have run away with the spoils and left him unconscious. Perhaps whoever had found him had assumed he was a traveler who'd been set upon and robbed.

Despite his headache, he smirked at the notion of a thief mistaken for a victim of thieves.

Whatever the people who'd brought him here believed, however, he couldn't stay. Orochimaru might even decide to rob whoever had taken him in this wonderful bed and—

By the saints!

He threw back the covers and let out a sigh of relief. Somebody had taken off his tunic and boots, but he still had his breeches on. He felt around his waist and found the small, sharp blade of the knife he kept hidden there.

There was no sign of his tunic or boots, or his sword.

Orochimaru had probably taken his sword; he would never leave something so valuable behind. Maybe he'd had time to take his boots and tunic, too, which wouldn't surprise him. Orochimaru was a greedy, rotten scoundrel he should have left long ago.

Meanwhile, here he was with only his breeches and a small knife, everything of value he possessed gone. It served him right for lingering with Orochimaru, he supposed, instead of striking out on his own and leaving the last remnant of his life with his poor mother.

The stone floor was cold against Sasuke's bare feet as he got out of the bed, and he shivered. He went to the chest. His tunic wasn't inside it, but to his surprise and delight, a fine heavy silk tunic of dark blue was. He had brushed against such garments when he was cutting purses, but had never actually had one in his hands. It would be worth a lot of money, he thought, as he placed it carefully on the bed.

Next he found a white linen shirt, some breeches made of a very fine wool, and beneath those, a pair of soft leather boots much better than his own.

It was a complete set of expensive clothes, and they looked to be about his size.

Were they put here on purpose? Was he supposed to find them and put them on? God's wounds, this was puzzling and confusing and, in a way, frightening. Nobody had ever been kind to him without expecting something in return. What would people who gave him such fine clothes want?

He should put on the lot and run away. He could sell these cloths or enough money to feed himself for at least a month.

He considered where he would go—not Kirigakure, that was certain, lest he encounter Orochimaru and the others. He ran his hand threw his thick hair…and didn't encounter a single knot.

Somebody had combed his hair.

This was too strange. He defiantly had to get away from here, and as quickly as possible.

With swift movements he drew on the shirt and the boots and then, almost reverently, the tunic.

Now to figure out where exactly he was. He went to the window and looked out-and gripped the sill with all his might as dizziness swamped him.

He was high in a tower of a castle, and the cobblestones of he courtyard below seemed leagues away.

He leaned back against the wall,, taking deep breaths. When his heart beat slowed to near normal, he ventured to look again. Soldiers, horses, and people moved like busy ants.

The courtyard was enclosed by a huge square wall made of grey stone, with wall walks around the top where sentries would patrol. A round tower was at each the inner courtyard; he was in one of them. Other buildings lined the inner courtyard. It was as if a small village was inside the castle, and another outside.

But what castle was this? Where was this?

He wracked his brain for anything that Orochimaru had said about where they were going. Nothing came to him. All he could remember was tat Orochimaru had thought they should stay away from Suna after all their thieving there.

He wished he could go out the window, but it was too far to the ground and he would be too visible. He would have to go out the door. Thank God his mother had taught him hoe to speak well enough to pass for a merchant's son, or even a squire, if he had to. He could surely talk himself out of tricky predicaments before. As for the cloths, they must expect him to put them on, or they wouldn't have left them there.

He would say he'd been traveling to Suna on business for his master-a mason(1), perhaps-and had been attacked by thieves. He would thank his benefactors for their kindness and the clothes, and walk out the gate.

Perhaps he could slip out into the crowd and through the gate without saying anything to anybody. He had done that sort of thing a hundred times in various towns.

Pleased with his plan, he went to the door, put his hand on the latch, and pushed down.

Nothing happened.

He tried again to be sure.

The door was locked. He was imprisoned in this room as surely as if he were in the dampest, dankest cell this castle possessed.

He fought the panic and confusion rising within him. Why would somebody save him and then imprison him? Why put him in such a bed and even comb his hair, and then lock him inside?

Because they didn't know anything about him and were wisely being cautious?

He grew a little calmer. Yes, that had to be it.

He pulled out his small knife and slid the blade into the keyhole. A slight twist, and the lock opened. He returned the knife to its place and, keeping his back to the wall, crept slowly down the curling stairs, passing a closed door on another landing. At the bottom, he peered around the final curve into what had to be the rest hall of the castle, a vast stone room that made him feel very small and insignificant.

Two people talked together on a dais at the end of the hall near him. Dismissing the well-dressed boy with his back to him, Sasuke studied the man dressed in a long black tunic heavily embroidered with gold and silver. He had an expensive scabbard hanging from a thick belt embossed with silver. A red jewel gleamed in the hilt of his sword. About twenty-five, he was tall and well made, with blood red eyes, and it was obvious he was used to being regarded with respect. He didn't look easy to trick, and suddenly Sasuke's strategy seemed doomed to fail.

Sweat trickling down his back, he quickly scanned the rest of the great hall as he tried to come up with an alternate plan. Smoke from the fire in the large round hearth at the center of the chamber curled up toward the high-beamed ceiling. The walls were covered with plaster and he could see the hooks where tapestries should be hung, although there were none now. Around the walls were benches and trestle tables. Their large wooden tops leaned against the walls, with the legs and supports beside them. They could be quickly assembled for meals, and then taken down. The floor of the hall was covered in rushes sprinkled with sweet-smelling herbs like rosemary to ward off the odors of dropped food.

Everything spoke of wealth, comfort, and power.

"I do regret that the earl is unable to see you, my lord," the boy said, drawing his attention. His voice was refined and musical, yet firmer than he'd expect from a mere boy. "If you had sent a messenger first to inquire, Baron, you would have saved yourself a journey."

Sasuke sighed with relief. The man was not the lord, but a guest here. Who, then, was the boy?

Sasuke took a better look at him. He wore a plain garment of bright green wool with no decoration. An embroidered belt sat upon his slender hips and keys hung from it. That and his proud posture told him he must be of high rank here-the son of the manor, perhaps.

The boy turned slightly, and now he could see that he was pretty, too, with smooth skin and delicate features.

Envy and bitterness stabbed him. At one time his mother's rank might have made him worthy of such a boy's notice. But his mother's lover had abandoned her, leaving him to a far different fate. He would be lower than a peasant to this youthful boy.

The man smiled, or at least moved his lips in something that was supposed to be a smile. His eyes, though they gleamed with anger and something else…something unsavory and cruel. "I would have sent a messenger had it been only your father I wanted to see, Lord Naruto."

"You flatter me, my lord."

Surprisingly, he didn't seem to find the man intimidating at all, in spite the look in his eyes. Either he was very bold, or very stupid.

"It is the truth," he said.

He gave him another smile, one that did not reach his eyes.

Despite his desire to be gone from here, Sasuke couldn't help being impressed. The boy was most certainly not stupid.

"Perhaps it is well you have come, my lord. I have heard there may be men outside the law on our land. Three rough-looking fellows were recently seen in the wood that borders both our estates."

Sasuke shrank back against the wall as if he had turned to point at him.

Then he realized the boy had said "three." They must think he was indeed a victim and not one of the thieves-but then, why the locked door?

"You have but to ask, and I will send my soldiers to guard Konoha," the rich nobleman offered.

Konoha. The name meant nothing to Sasuke, except that it would be better if he left as soon as he possibly could.

"I do not think that is necessary yet, my lord. It was only three men, and we have nothing here to tempt them."

"There is one thing here that is very tempting."

Sasuke peered around the wall again, for he knew that tone. It was how Orochimaru spoke to a tavern wench.

The boy's lips tightened ever so slightly. Obviously he was not going to be won over by that sort of flattery. "I would ask that you watch out for those men as you return home."

"I shell, and if I find them, they will be duly questioned."

"Will you stay and dine with us?" the boy asked. "And your escort, too, of course."

The man made a slight bow. "We would be honored, Lord Naruto."

"Please excuse me then, Baron Itachi, while I inform the cook."

The boy left the man without waiting for him to reply. Fortunately, he didn't even glance at the stairwell as he hurried past.

Meanwhile, the nobleman sat in a tall, high-backed chair and surveyed the room with a pleased smile.

Sasuke knew there was no way under heaven he was going to be able to sneak past that smug and watchful visitor. He would have to go back to the chamber and wait until nightfall, when those in the castle would be asleep, except for a few guards on the wall.

Then he recalled that there had been no guards or sentries on the wall walk or anywhere else. All the soldiers he had seen had been on the ground, and idle. They must be the nobleman's guard.

That was strange, too, but the nobleman's offer of soldiers suddenly made more sense.

Yet the boy had refused. Why? Because he preferred to have a vulnerable fortress than be indebted to this man?

He could see why he might not want that…but his situation was none of his concern. All he should be thinking about was getting away from here. If someone came to the room, he decided, he would pretend to be asleep. Then, come night, he would take his leave of this place.

Mason- A builder and worker with stone.