A/N: Last night I watched Snow White and the Huntsman for the the first time and the final battle was inspiration to this... I had texted the entire plot to my friend, not really planning on actually writing it, but they decided to force my lazy ass down and made me write this all out... So thanks for that, Cass xD
This is my first fanfic so it's obviously rough around the edges... But we all start somewhere, yeah? I plan to keep writing (I've got tons of ideas bubblin in my noggin) so please, if you find any errors or have any tips, please tell me!
Thanks so much for taking the time to read and tell me what you think!
Enjoy~
Excitement radiated from the confines of the narrow hall, bounding off the walls and singeing his overactive nerves as he wove his way through the throng of armor clad men. A feral grin creased his features as he pushed past sweat glazed bodies slipping into various articles of protective metal. Lord Aizen had just sent word; they were to go to war. Today.
He was almost giddy with anticipation. A large, calloused hand shot through sweat-dampened electric-blue tresses as he finally broke through the densest patch of warriors and made his way towards his self-designated spot. He was pleased to see several familiar faces.
"Yammy was successful in mending your chainmail, I see?" His grin spread further as a head of wavy brown locks peaked through said reinforced chainmail. His words were greeted by lazy, half hooded gray eyes and confirmed with a sluggish nod.
He sauntered over to his heavy-eyed companion and had begun tightening his chest plates when the familiar and very unwelcomed sensation of cool metal met the vulnerable flesh below his adam's apple. He swallowed slowly, calculative, his mind racing a mile a minute when howling laughter sounded at his ear. A low growl erupted from his chest as he carefully removed the blade from his neck and slowly turned to face his assailant. "The fuck, Shirosaki?" More watery laughter escaped the questionably sane albino's pale lips. The sheer sadistic mirth radiating from the man had the blue-haired warrior's fingers twitching for the hilt of his blade.
"It would be wise to save that energy for the field," A stoic, almost melancholy voice sounded, "Quit behaving as children." Angry, pacific-blue orbs reluctantly peeled from the still howling albino and rested upon the regal raven-haired speaker.
"Naw, we were only playin', Ki-ki" The raven-haired man turned a pointed frown at the slowly sobering Shiro. "My name is Ulquiorra."
Ulquiorra's words went unheard as the close-nit band of unconventional companions comfortably prepared for battle beside one another. They engaged in playful banter and teasing, disguising the ominous fact weighing down on all their hearts; they might not all return.
His muscle corded arms and torso quivered in excitement; his calloused hands tensing and relaxing around the reins in anticipation. Adrenaline shot through his veins, sparking his every nerve and sense like flint stone. His jaws ached from the feral grin that had adorned his features beneath his heavy helm since they departed. He could practically taste the nearing battle.
He and the rest of Lord Aizen's men had been riding for nearly two hours in the rain and he could barely hold his impatience at bay. He glanced to both sides, pleased that Starrk and Shiro were on either side of him. Although they didn't look it, they were both formidable and worthy warriors. He was proud to be considered their companion.
Ulquiorra was stationed a few rows ahead of him next to an astonishingly tall warrior by the name of Nnoitra. The man had a grin rivaling his own and was nearly as good a warrior. He grinned, imagining the damage they would undoubtedly deal on the Shinigami. The Espada were a force to be reckoned with.
The sound of rattling armor and low braying snapped him from his reverie and he peered past the frontal lines. The already sparse, barren trees thinned further and a clearing was fast approaching. His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, excitement threatening to burst.
The front lines came to stop as the flag barring their insignia was raised. He couldn't see past the front lines due to the hill they were on, but he knew, just yards away, resided their opponents. His left hand tightened around the reins as his right inched towards the sheathed sword at his hip. His midnight steed pawed at the sodden earth, hooves sinking in from the added weight of dark armor and his rider practically howled in mirth. His twin Caribbean-blue pools swirled with a mixture of confidence and pure, unadulterated bloodlust.
He chanced a glance to either side, pleased to find his companions in a very similar state of anticipation before settling his gaze on the horizon. His grin grew to impossible widths beneath his black helm as their flag was slowly lowered in a large, slow arch towards the horizon. He leaned forward and as soon as the flag was pointing straight at the opposing army, drew his sword and gave a thundering howl with the rest of the army and charged.
He clashed into a sea of noble men, his sword slicing an effortless path. His midnight mount sped at impossible speeds through the chaos, sleek muscles rippling beneath the armor. Screams of agony and battle cries alongside the sound of clashing blades and jarring armor intermingled to create a consistent, roaring din that sent his heart racing and limbs twitching. His armor clanked against itself as his body was jarred up and down by the breakneck speed he flew through the frenzy at. His face was split by unadulterated, animalistic mirth as his crimson stained blade tore through the lines of men, their blood now speckling his midnight armor.
The sound of clapping thunder resounding through the body littered field was barely audible over the chaos as he and his steed trampled over the damp and barren soil, clumps of sodden earth flying free from under iron clad hooves. He spared a brief, upward glance at the storming sky. It was shrouded in a grim cloak of gray and held promise of torrential rain. He smirked, it was as if the heavens themselves knew of the battle below and were preparing to wash away the blood soaked earth once the slaughter subsided.
His grin faltered momentarily as his steed came to an abrupt and uncommanded halt. A scowl replaced it all together as he glared ahead. Before him sat a regal looking warrior mounted atop his equally noble speckled horse. Sable-brown met ice-blue and the two warriors engaged in a heated staring match, the surrounding chaos forgotten. Blue brows drew together in a scowl. Something about those molten brown orbs rubbed him the wrong way… made him feel as if the opposing warrior felt he was superior; like he was looking down on him. He growled darkly at the thought, blood boiling. He would show him who was to look down on whom.
With another battle cry, the enraged warrior charged, unphased when his opponent silently mimicked his action. Their blades clashed with enough force to knock them both from their mounts, the metallic sound ringing above the chaotic din surrounding them. They both peeled themselves from the dampened earth, clutching their swords and began sidestepping in a slow, calculative circle. Each man watched the other, anticipating their next move.
Another growl shook his chest as those molten pools of earth stared him down defiantly. He lept forward and the two engaged in vigorous swordfight. The blue-haired warrior was both pleased and enraged to find the fiery-eyed warrior matched him in skill; pleased for the thrill of an exhilarating battle, but displeased he couldn't tear those condescending orbs from his head.
A slow grin spread beneath his helm as he began overpowering the slighter male. His muscled biceps rippled beneath his dark chainmail and armor as he began pushing the brown-eyed warrior back. The grin turned feral as he felt the thinner warrior's force decrease. He was wining! Or so he thought.
The shorter warrior had slackened in his attack only to quickly slip away, ending up behind the taller warrior and raining down another onslaught of attacks. The blue-haired male barely had enough time to turn around and block. So what the defiant man lacked in muscle, he made up for in speed. He chuckled darkly with sadistic mirth. Defeating the irritating warrior was going to be more fun than he had anticipated.
Their swords once again clashed with fervor, each delivering onslaught after onslaught of blows. Both their breathing was harsh and their bodies dampened with both blood and sweat, but, much to the blue-haired warrior's dismay, his opponents attacks seemed to be becoming sluggish and disappointedly predictable.
Blocking a few haphazard attacks, he quickly overpowered the shorter male, sending him sprawling to the dampened earth. His helmet broke free from the impact, tumbling into the chaos of clashing men.
His feral grin bared sharp canines as smug pools of ocean rested on the heavily breathing male at his feet. His grin wavered briefly as his oceanic orbs observed an unruly mess of surprisingly orange hair matted with sweat and mud. He didn't have long to contemplate the fallen male's intriguingly gorgeous features for he was sent tumbling backwards, his own helm joining his opponent's in the sea of slaughtering men. He glared up at molten orbs, enraged beyond belief to find their roles now reversed. Those sable-brown eyes seemed to dance and mock him. The now fallen warrior's blood was roaring in his ears as he scowled up at the new-found bane of his existence. He wasn't about to lose, especially not to this fiery-headed warrior.
He gave a wide sideswipe, forcing the fiery warrior to back away lest he wish to be on the sodden earth again. Using his distraction, the blue-haired warrior surged to his feet, hand gripping his sword's hilt with fervor. The orange-haired male scowled and the two attacked with more passion and spirit than they had previously.
His sadistic smirk returned to crease his features and his ice-blue orbs danced dangerously as he saw the spitfire of a warrior's brow dampened by both sweat and blood. He chose to ignore the fact he was no worse for wear and absentmindedly swiped at his precipitating forehead. When his fingertips came away red stained, his grin only widened.
His mirth, however, had sobered almost instantly as the unmistakable sensation of a cool blade plunged into his left shoulder. It was immediately pulled from his flesh and he gripped the gaping wound with his free hand, wholly infuriated. Blood seeped between his fingers and he grimaced. He forced himself to open his eyes despite the pain and glare down the little spitfire. He was going to kill the nuisance.
Knowing full well he was at a grave disadvantage, his pride just wouldn't allow him to sit back. He lunged forward, sword clashing sloppily with his opponent's blood sodden one. He let loose several more significantly weakened attacks, his anger bubbling over with each one. The fiery warrior simply blocked each of his attacks, never attacking. It was as if he was patronizing him, belittling him. He abhorred it.
The blue eyed warrior howled in frustration as he attempted a finishing blow. His attack was stopped midway through, and he now found himself staring up at the shrouded sky in astonishment. The musky scent of earth dampened with moisture and blood assaulted his senses, forcing his brows together in confusion. He groggily turned his head to the side, watching as armor clad boots clanked towards him, sinking into the softened earth ever so slightly. He groaned in pain as his head rotated back to face the storming sky, eyes trailing up the blurry figure that had been his downfall. His glazed orbs locked with surprisingly sympathetic pools of liquid earth that infuriated him to the core. That flaming bastard was pitying him! He wanted to growl, but his efforts were stalled halfway through as a sharp pain emitted from his chest and surged through his veins, following his slowing bloodstream to the furthest reaches of his body. He blinked slowly, sluggishly, before a loud gasp broke past his dried and cracked lips, dragging a wet cough with it.
Crimson flew from his mouth as he sputtered and coughed, a thin trail trickling over his bottom lip and down his chin. His vision seemed to glaze over as his shaking hands slowly found their way to the sword protruding from his chest. A blooming plumage of red began to spread from where the cruel metal had penetrated, seeping through his fingers and wrapping around his palling hands as they futilely attempted to trap the life harboring fluid back into his veins.
Another wet cough wracked his body with pain as he turned wide, pain-laced orbs towards the male standing above him. He watched distantly as the warrior, now just a blurred haze of autumn colours, withdrew his sword. The victor spared only a single, sympathetic glance down at the once prideful warrior as his brave blood soaked into the wet, muddy earth, before turning and engaging in another battle he would undoubtedly win.
The fallen warrior coughed, struggling for air as his own blood began to slowly drown him and watched as the gorgeous warrior of autumn hues left him without more than a glance, leaving him solely to the company of the darkness that slowly, leisurely, enveloped him whole.