A/N: Here is the rewritten prologue. If you're confused, don't worry, everything will be explained as the story gets going. Please review. Its only fair that you review after reading this, and I allow all sorts of reviews, except flames, because they're just stupid. Yes, there will be some original characters, so if that's not your cup of tea, turn around right now.
Yes, this story will use dates, and such. I figured that everything would be easier if I used dates and such.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Bleach, or Greek Mythology, and I am not making any money off this story. The plot, however, and the original characters do belong to me.
Enjoy reading!
Prologue: The Serenity.
20th March 2012. Las Noches, Hueco Mundo.
She longed to be outside; the warmth of the brilliant sun on her too chilled skin would bring that peaceful serenity she so often craved for, and those childhood memories of whispering silk, and crackling leaves, of soft smiles and ringing laughter. The air, thick with the scent of cherry blossoms; the wind brushing against her ears, whispering like a lover, tempting her to let loose her hair. And she would let loose her hair, laughing gaily as the wind whipped through her hair, weaving a garland of cherry blossoms to place on her head. Barefoot, she would dance until the sky exploded into colours of red, orange, yellow, blue and violent, signifying the setting of the sun, and then, she would return home, tanned from the day spent in nature.
Alas, spring would not to be enjoyed, for she was forever trapped in Hueco Mundo, the world of perpetual night. Certainly, her lord and master had created rooms of perpetual sunshine for her, his sweet queen, to enjoy, but nothing could compare to the true, natural beauty of spring.
The tale of her descent into hell was far from pleasing, and she how she wondered what her life would be like had Aizen Sousuke not gazed upon her that bitter December morning, and decided to take her. No, she told herself, she would not think about things she could not change. She was god's queen – a fact that she had been reminded of every day – and this was her life now, no matter how much she wished she were somewhere other than Hueco Mundo.
.
Some candles were burning, tender lights dancing in the semi-darkness, illuminating the shapes of the expensive furniture, casting haunting shapes on the walls and high arches of the spacious room. The room, in which she slept, was an example of the queen's taste. Previously one bedroom, it was now a lofty three room suite, its walls, a shade of moss green, accented with yellow and gold vines. The floors, marble, patterned with gold flowers, arches above the doors decorated with rhythmic linear patters of interlacing foliage in gold and tea green.
Her rooms were her sanctuary. A place she could be herself, away from the piercing eyes of the arrancar and Aizen.
Aizen – the traitor of the soul society, Lord and Master of Hueco Mundo, and self proclaimed god lay next to her in the luxurious mahogany, black and viridian bed, his soft breathing heavy with deep sleep. She turned her head to look at the man who had turned her world upside down by taking her from the world above; casting her into a world of complete darkness.
Even though she hated him, she couldn't deny that he was the handsomest man she'd ever laid eyes on, even as he slept. His mahogany hair, even mussed with sleep was perfect, his eyes, hidden behind long black lashes were crimson-brown; cold, and soul piercing. The light danced across his face, illuminating his features, and adding to his beauty.
Yet, no matter how beautiful he was on the outside, she knew what he was on the inside: manipulative, scheming, extremely cruel and cold hearted, but he was still such a mystery to her, a mystery that she – unwillingly – wanted to unravel.
Settling back into her lush pillows, she closed her eyes, and sighed softly, resting her hand over her ever-expanding stomach. This child she carried was the product of many nights spent in his loving – she snorted at this – embrace, and though she hated the man beside her, she couldn't find herself hating this child she carried. Aizen had given her something she had always wanted – a family, so, despite hating him, she was grateful.
"Husband," She swept a sidelong glance at her companion, through long lashed dark eyes. A wicked smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, as she brought the glass of iced orange juice to her lips, and watched as her companion set his new issue of Las Noches Times onto the table.
An eyebrow rose, crimson tinted eyes regarded the woman in front of him. The queen of Hueco Mundo rarely used that word to address him, her sovereign lord, and master, so it came as a surprise to him that she had chosen that word. "Yes wife?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.
Another smile. "I have a furious hankering for strawberries such as I've never had before," she tilted her head ever so slightly, her eyes glittering.
Aizen's lips twitched so slightly. "Strawberries?"
"Oh yes, milord," she was smiling, amused by his confusion. "It started three days ago."
"What are you trying to say, hime?" He asked, impatience lacing his tone.
"I am with child," she murmured, looking demurely at the glass of orange juice.
The self-proclaimed god's eyes sparkled with barely contained mirth, a ghost of a smile on his lips. She did have her uses, it seemed.
She wondered what the Soul Society, her friends, would say once they learned of her condition, would they be so quick to judge, and name her a traitor as they had Aizen or would they help her?
Another soft sigh escaped her lips as she pulled back the rich black duvet and embroidered silk sheets, and swung her feet over the side of the bed, careful not to wake her bed-mate from his slumber. She shivered, goose bumps sprouting on her legs and arms as the soles of her feet touched the cool marble floor, and the air brushed against her slightly warmed skin.
She stood, shivering, and paused, reaching to grab her robe from the intricately carved mahogany chair next to the canopied bed. She slipped the robe on over her white nightgown, tying it loosely around her slight frame.
Morning had approached, though in Hueco Mundo, there was no way to tell that the morning had even come. In her mind's eye, however, she could see the colours of the sunrise; oranges, yellows, blues and purples, and she could almost feel the sun on her skin, as it appeared over the trees, and shined its rays onto the earth below. She smiled softly, enjoying the beauty of the rising sun, and she wondered if those in the human world, and the soul society were enjoying the sunrise, what surprises the sunrise would bring them.
But in Hueco Mundo, the sunrise would only bring forth another day of endless charades, pretending to be someone, something she was not; queen, wife of Aizen Sousuke, mother of the arrancar, of the prince and heir.
Yes, she would survive, even if she was branded a traitor by the soul society, because she had everything she wanted, everything she needed here – well, everything but love – and she was happy.
Warm arms circled around her, and she leaned against the broad chest of her captor, her king – Aizen. "Good Morning Hime." He whispered in her ear, voice husky from sleep, fingers brushing against the great swell of her stomach – and she found her breath catch in her throat, and her heart beat faster.
Perhaps she could find serenity in Hueco Mundo without the sun.
A/N; it is short, but I think I like this prologue better than the other one. Read and review, please.