The days and nights didn't come and go with the rising and setting of the sun in the lower dungeons of Las Noches. Orihime Inoue had learned to mark the passage of time by the changing of guards and coming and going of her fellow prisoners.
So far she had forty-two marks etched onto the floor from an uneven piece of stone she'd pried loose from her cell wall. She leaned her back to the stone wall behind her in the dark, damp cell, a spot she'd made drier and warmer by sheer body heat. There wasn't much spare heat to use, really, as she'd shivered away most of her energy already that day. At first the sunken level of the prison had been welcome after the scorching heat of the desert after her travel with her abductor, who she knew was also the main guardsman of the prison.
She moved her feet to see the scratches marking the passing of days in the floor stone. She was too dehydrated to cry, and it had never done her any good the first week she'd been hostage anyway, so she didn't bother anymore.
Rumors drifted through the dungeon, some by guards, some as torment from the two guards Loly and Menoly who'd taken a dislike to her.
Orihime knew it. The two slight female guards made no pretense to their feelings about some of the prisoners.
Most rumors swirled around prisoners and ransoms, demands met and new demands made by Sousuke Aizen. Orihime had heard fewer lately. She knew it meant the ransomed were dead, or gone, or there was no money to be gotten for the hostage.
She also knew which category she had fallen into.
The rattle of keys and creaking of the cell door jolted her from her thoughts, making her pull her legs closer on the straw strewn floor, hands brushing the torn skirt over her knees as the shadows fell into her dark cell from the torchlight of the hall. As eager as she was to see any glimpse of light, the opening of the door meant a guard or worse. She'd heard women's screams of the worse, and the rattle of keys had made her dread the rays of light stretching into her cell.
She nearly sighed when she saw the familiar head guard, Ulquiorra, step into the dark.
He looked at her without expression, as usual, and then scowled at the unkempt state of his prisoner and her quarters. "When was the last time you got new straw?" he asked abruptly.
"Four days, I think," she said, voice raspy from lack of water.
He was dressed as all the guards, in a full tan shirt and black pants belted with scabbard and double baldric of other edged weapons. He nodded, eyes resting on her face as she pushed her uncombed hair from her eyes. "You're being moved."
She nodded, having no time to speak as he stepped in and lifted her to her feet by her elbow. He fit a key from a ring of keys into the lock at the wall that was attached to the cuffs at her wrists.
He unlocked the chain bolted to the wall as a shadow fell across the floor from the hall. Orihime looked there as the guard she knew as Nnoitra looked in. His leering grin was evident even in the poor light, and she knew also it was his voice that usually accompanied the screams of the women she'd heard.
"I can help you with that," he offered to Ulquiorra, eyes on Orihime as she tried to shelter in Ulquiorra's shadow as he freed the chain. "I don't mind a little dirt."
"I'm sure you don't." Ulquiorra took the loose chain and nodded to Orihime. "Let's go."
She followed him to the doorway, where Nnoitra gave them little room to pass. He drew a finger down her arm as she neared, chuckling as she flinched away.
"Haven't you a bounty to collect?" Ulquiorra asked, pulling Orihime quicker as her steps hesitated.
"Naw, Aizen Governor dropped the Kuchiki reward." Nnoitra grinned as Orihime squinted in the brightness of the corridor Ulquiorra led her down. "Must be a pricey little item you got here, Prison Master. She's had three ransoms paid on her already. Wonder what all the fuss is for." He grinned wider at her. "What you got under those skirts, pet?"
Orihime shifted away as the tall guard's fingers touched a rip in her dress at the shoulder, bare feet moving faster on the cool stone floor.
"Then you should be scheduled for gate guard duty," Ulquiorra said, blocking Nnoitra's attentions from his prisoner with a dismissive frown.
Nnoitra dropped his hand. "I got a while yet. Grimmjow's still a little sore about the escape happening on his watch." He chuckled, winking a crooked eye at Orihime until she looked ahead of them down the prison hall. "Guess twenty lashes will do that, huh?"
Ulquiorra pushed Orihime before him out of Nnoitra's reach. "It was during his gate watch when she escaped. His responsibility," he said, his hand with Orihime's chain now on her shoulder. "Find Loly or Menoly and tell them to bring clean straw for the prisoner's new cell."
Orihime kept her eyes before her, steps outpacing the men behind her as Nnoitra grumbled.
She didn't watch as the taller guard left, thankful he was gone, even if it was only for a brief time. Nnoitra always made his rounds at night, before his shift at the walled compound's main gate. She hoped he wouldn't find his way to her new cell.
Ulquiorra turned her down another dimly lit corridor and stopped her before an open door. Far behind the way they'd come she heard a metal gate slam shut.
"We're barring off most of the exterior exits," Ulquiorra told her as he pushed her into an open doorway in the brick wall.
She went to the far wall of the cell, which was just as dark as her previous location, but a little less dusty. It was bare except for a bucket, and Ulquiorra wasted no time bolting her chain to the wall near one corner.
"Will I go home next time my ransom is paid?" she asked, forcing the words through her dry throat. It wasn't the first time she asked, and she doubted it would be the last. "Please? My brother has paid several times over, and –"
"That is not my decision," Ulquiorra told her, testing the chain as he looked to her. "Perhaps next time."
She bit her lips against saying more, tasting salt and dirt from her surroundings. She hadn't bathed in her time in the cell, devoting little of her allotment of precious water to attempting any sort of hygiene. "He isn't wealthy like some of the other families," she reminded, knowing her jailor wasn't her real captor. "We're not a noble family. We don't —"
"If Lord Aizen decides to release you, then you will be released," he said, turning as she was about to plead again. "Not until."
She sighed, leaning to the cool stone wall as he went to the door and left without looking again to her. She waited for the thick door to shut, but instead two smaller figures entered. She immediately knew the smirks of Loly and Menoly, attendants who sometimes doubled as guards when they weren't changing straw or emptying piss pots. They cast Orihime loathing looks, Loly especially spiteful, both with armfuls of straw.
"I don't see any reason to throw down straw here, do you?" the black haired girl said. "No one here to use it."
Orihime didn't waste any effort trying to speak to the women. She'd learned that much in her time there.
"No. No one here," Menoly agreed sarcastically. They dropped their straw at the far corner away from Orihime, watching her, enjoying the disappointment crossing her face.
The both cackled a giggle, until Nnoitra darkened the doorway. He grinned at Orihime.
"Get lost," he told the two women.
Orihime shuddered as he leered at her, sinking into the darker corner of the cell as the women giggled again and slipped past the tall guard. Nnoitra shut the door behind him.
"Handy thing about jail doors," he said, stepping closer, bringing with him a foul odor of stale whiskey. "They don't lock unless you lock them."
Orihime moved away from the long fingers he put to her cheek, wishing he would disappear into the shadows that engulfed the cell as the closed door muted all light. She withdrew, holding her breath as his face lowered to hers, his breath rank on her face.
"You want I should bring that straw a little closer? Or bring you some water, my wilted pet?" he asked, chuckling as her face turned from him. "You need a little watering. Sprucen you up some."
"No, thank you," she said lowly.
"Thank you? I ain't done nothing to thank me for yet." He chuckled, his hand moving from her cheek to her neck, sliding her dress from her shoulder.
"Please, don't do that," she said, chained wrists clamping to her chest to lock the dress to herself against his advances.
"Not much to choose from around here anymore," he said, lifting her chin to make her look at him. "You're still bringing a pretty price, though."
The cell door creaked open and Grimmjow came in, growling when the hall light hit the corner. "Unhand her, Nnoitra. She's in my section now," he said, one hand grabbing the back of the tall guard's shirt and jerking him from Orihime. "You've got gate duty."
Nnoitra stepped back. "Wait your turn. I'm first."
Grimmjow looked to Orihime, then eyed the straw. "Get out!" he barked at Nnoitra.
"I'm going," the taller guard grumbled, heading for the doorway.
Orihime breathed a bit easier as he left, then held her breath as Grimmjow looked back to her. She'd only seen him a few times in passing, his caustic stare making her avoid holding his attention for more than a second. "Thank you for making him stop."
"You're in my ward now," he said, eyes flicking over her as he stood closer.
She nodded, pulling her dress back up her shoulder. "Thank you."
He glanced at the straw in the opposite corner. "Loly and Menoly put that there?"
"Yes."
He turned to look at the door, which was half open, the light seeping faintly into the cell. The torchlight illuminated him from behind, one sleeve of his shirt dotted with red at the upper arm near his shoulder.
She thought of the flogging Ulquiorra had mentioned, the whispered rumors of Grimmjow's failure at allowing a prisoner to be rescued while he was on gate duty. Some said it was an escape, but she wasn't sure which it had been. She knew allies were scarce in the dungeon, and one less guard of Nnoitra's caliber would be welcome.
She chanced to reach one hand to Grimmjow's shoulder as he turned back to her. Her fingertips touched the blood spotted sleeve, her lips moving in silent kotodama, calling on the ancient healing sources her aunt had taught her as a child.
Grimmjow's sharp stare went to her fingers, and then his hand closed vice-like around her throat, pushing her to the wall. "What the hell are you doing?"
She caught what little breath she could before he moved, but her fingers stayed in contact with the sleeve, barely touching his arm beneath.
He glanced to the arm, feeling the muscles there regain whole again, the open wounds from the lashing healing along his shoulders and back. His hand slowly relaxed on the throat of the girl in his clutch, his wondering attention going back to her. "You're doing that?"
"Yes," she said, barely audible as she felt the healing draw from her limited strength. In most circumstances it would be simple to heal wounds such as whip lashes, but the task taxed her in her present malnourished state.
She wished she could have smiled at completing the healing, but she was too tired and her lips would have cracked. He looked back to her, his hand still resting at her neck, but no longer choking. For a moment his eyes narrowed on her, then dropped over her disheveled form in the poor light.
"Does Aizen know you can do that?"
She shook her head, grateful when his hand withdrew from her throat completely. "I don't know."
He drew up the sleeve of his healed arm, inspecting the process, his hand moving to his shoulder, amazed and still skeptical. He nodded, and then turned and strode to the doorway and looked down the hall.
Orihime flinched as he bellowed for Loly and Menoly.
The two small women came almost immediately, and when they didn't move fast enough, Grimmjow grabbed Loly by the collar and nearly picked her off her feet as he threw her into the cell.
"Straw goes to the prisoner! Get it right!"
Menoly stayed out of his reach, but scurried to gather the straw. Loly squealed an oath at Grimmjow, and then followed Menoly to help gather up the bedding.
Orihime avoided the women as they deposited the scooped up straw at her feet. The both cast her irate looks as Grimmjow waited at the door.
"Thank you," she told them meekly.
"Shut up," Menoly said beneath her breath.
"Bring a fresh bucket of drinking water," Grimmjow ordered Loly.
She glanced to him, pushing straw with one foot to Orihime. "She doesn't get water until the evening feeding."
"Do it now," he told her.
Loly threw Orihime a detestable look and obeyed, moving swiftly past Grimmjow at the door.
Menoly gave Orihime a brief look and then turned to Grimmjow. "You can't show favoritism to prisoners," she said. "You'll get punished again."
"Leave," he said to Menoly, eyes on Orihime.
"You can't –"
"I said leave!" he snapped.
Menoly lost her courage to argue further and darted past him.
Orihime watched her go, and then saw Loly return with a wooden bucket of water.
Grimmjow snatched it from her and pushed her back into the hall. He let the door swing behind him and took the bucket to Orihime, setting it within her reach.
"Thank you," she said, eyes staying on his as the cell was nearly eclipsed in darkness as the door creaked to within a few inches of closing.
"You're bringing a good price from your homeland," he said, leaning one hand on the wall near her, barely able to see her face in the dark. "You look parched. Aizen's prize ransom should look the part. Drink what you want; you can bathe with the rest."
Her fears surfaced momentarily, but he turned and walked to the door.
"Thank you, again," she said, taste buds eager at the thought of fresh water.
He left, the door clanging behind him, key rattling in the lock.
Orihime sunk to her knees in the straw, half from weakness and half from relief. She pulled the bucket closer, not quite aware of its proximity in the dark. Her eyes grew accustomed to the dark again and she cupped a handful of water as she leaned over the bucket.
It was tepid and floating with straw, but she drank as much as she could without choking. It had become a favorite game for Loly and Menoly to deliver her water in a leaking bucket and she was without water soon after her meals. It usually led to any bedding she had becoming soaked sooner, something that the guards didn't keep much track of, and something that she didn't want to bring to their attention.
Undue attention from the guards, any guards, was not something the prisoners wanted. Nnoitra was only too eager to lend aid when a female voice arose about water or wet straw. Orihime didn't complain about the lack of water.
She'd barely satisfied her thirst when she noticed the water level lowering quickly in the bucket. In the dark she felt around the sides of the bucket, feeling the soaked side where a split was allowing the water to leach out. She sighed, and then resorted to putting off any sort of bathing and drank the rest of the water.
She had little doubt treatment would be any better under the warden of her new location, but an extra dose of water was a good start.
Besides, healing his wounds had only cost her a few months.
The Scarlet Reaper made good time returning to the port of Merristone. Docking was welcome, as Byakuya Kuchiki had made certain the ship was able to dock without issue, the groundage paid in advance, and the port master turning a blind eye to some of the rumors surrounding the ship of questionable reputation.
Renji was grateful for those details, making the voyage smooth, if irritating, watching his once-responsibility of Rukia Kuchiki smitten by Ichigo Kurosaki on his deck. He ignored it, but insisted upon a few rules, namely that Rukia have the master cabin's bedchamber while Ichigo remained in the first mate's quarters. Ichigo begrudgingly abided, but not without protesting when Renji slept in the master cabin's fore room, albeit in a hammock. He eventually consented when Rukia asked him to relent, and Renji realized that Rukia's violet eyes could indeed charm. When she felt like it.
Even so, Renji was ready when they three set back out of Merristone to meet Byakuya at the Kuchiki residence three days later. As much as he wanted to rid himself of Kurosaki, and see Rukia safely returned to her brother, the haunting memory of the girl in the darkened dungeon cell gnawed at him. He'd set aside his conscience on a few matters since leaving life in Kuchiki service, and while not quite pirate, he'd realigned the parameters in which he was willing to work.
He'd sorted through who she could be, discarding most of the women and girls from the noble families and the few low ranking princesses that the Emperor had in the realm. He knew there were mistakes in Aizen's abductions. Girls and women without wealth but a title or the illusion of money, such as property.
It didn't matter too much to him which of these the girl was that he'd left in the dungeon; she was still there, and perhaps had no ransom. He waited in the drawing room while Byakuya made his way to them. Ichigo was slightly more comfortable in the sunny sitting room that seemed to welcome Rukia back with strong rays of light. She stood at the open garden doors, arms extended in the sunlight, smiling in the warmth, eyes nearly closed.
Renji watched her, hiding part of a grin at her eager reception of sunlight, knowing she'd had limited time with any natural light from her small tower room. She hadn't elaborated too much on her imprisonment on their voyage back, but he'd caught some of her descriptions when she'd recounted them to Ichigo.
They all looked to the open doorway as Byakuya appeared there with another man. The noble nodded, bemused, eyes seeking Rukia as soon as he stepped into the room. He held a hand up to the man who followed him, halting his speech.
"Rukia, finally," Byakuya said, crossing the marble flooring to embrace her. "Welcome home, sister."
She appeared somewhat surprised by his personable nature, but smiled, nodding as his arms came around her for a few moments before releasing her.
Ichigo and Renji both watched, slightly lost as to the nobleman's display. They glanced to the other man. He was obviously a Quincy, one of the few who remained and had been banished from the mainland. He wore the typical white shirt and pants of the clan, his sour expression steeled at the sister and brother reunion.
Rukia stepped back and bowed to her brother, smiling. "Thank you for –"
"No thanks is due," Byakuya said, patting her shoulder, eyes going to the few bruises at her arms. "You're well?"
"Yes, brother."
Byakuya turned to Ichigo, and then Renji. "I owe you both a debt."
"Not me," Renji said, shifting a look to the Quincy.
Byakuya looked to Ichigo. "Your place in the Kuchiki family is already established." He turned to Renji. "You know our terms, Captain," he added slowly. "I can arrange for the funds to –"
"I didn't do this for money," Renji growled at him, irritation rising. "You know that."
"You're to be compensated," Byakuya said, holding a hand up to the Quincy as he began to speak. "What do you want, Abarai?"
"Nothing from you." Renji nodded to Rukia. "I'll check back on you in a while. I've got another matter to attend."
"This is no small matter," Byakuya said, watching Renji's hand settle at his sword hilt. "Your reputation could do with a little polish."
Rukia put a hand to her brother's arm. "Perhaps a small banquet," she suggested, smiling as she looked back to Renji. "Would you come for that? Please, Renji?"
"I must insist," the Quincy said, his tone holding no appreciation for Rukia's return. "I implore you, sir. This is an urgent matter. I was told you could help." His hand gripped tighter around a lock of auburn hair. "You once showed interest –"
Byakuya held up his hand. "I will speak with you later on the matter."
Renji nodded to Rukia. "I'll visit you later," he told her, then gave Byakuya a sharper look. "Unless that's a problem for you."
"You are welcome in our house any time, Abarai," Byakuya said with little of his usual coolness. He turned to Rukia. "I think a banquet to celebrate your return is in order."
"How can you speak of banquets when your help is so desperately needed?" the Quincy asked. A sudden pain made him put a hand to his side, a wincing movement that was accompanied by a faint reddening of the white material there.
"You're injured," Rukia said.
"What's a Quincy doing here?" Ichigo asked, hand at his scabbard now at his side.
"My name is Uryuu, the younger Ishida," he said, pressing the hand to his side.
Byakuya called for a servant, who appeared at the doorway with a bow. "Have this man's wounds treated and then we'll see what he wants."
"I want your attention to this," Uryuu said, holding out the lock of hair as the servant turned back down the hall.
Renji glanced at the strands of auburn fastened with a tie of amber and garnet beads. He knew it was another ransom unmet, another attempt by Aizen to tax Seireitei's coffers for the cost of a woman's life. Reminded of his own conscience, he nodded to Rukia.
"I'll visit later."
Byakuya took the lock of hair, turning it over, seeing the gemstones catch the light from the open doors as Renji headed for the hall door, passing the servant bringing a towel and clean shirt. He turned down the paneled corridor.
"Would you be interested in another voyage to Hueco Mundo, Abarai?" Byakuya's voice followed him out.
Renji gritted his teeth against answering. The rich always thought they could buy a future, a loyalty, a man's day. Whatever the Quincy was requesting would demand a price for Byakuya, and Renji wanted no part of it. His time was his own now, and at present he had plans, which did not include his former employer's whim.
"There's money in it for you," Byakuya's tone echoed down the corridor as Renji left.
He didn't stop at the sunny entryway in the Kuchiki mansion at the front doors, nor did he answer the statement he knew was to tempt him into learning more of whatever Byakuya or the Quincy had in mind.
He pushed through the doors before the doorman could meet him and went out into the afternoon. The small boy who'd met them earlier that day for the horses immediately appeared at the grounds edge, calling to him in a language Renji didn't understand.
He ran off out of sight and Renji waited at the mansion's front, bracing himself from looking far up at the building, mind set to his next departure. Port security was tightening. Getting the Scarlet Reaper sea bound was chancy, but the longer he waited, the less success he was likely to have.
Especially since he no longer had the protection of Byakuya Kuchiki or a passenger in Rukia. Renji knew that was the only reason he'd been able to dock in Merristone at all.
The boy appeared from around the mammoth house's side leading a saddled horse. Renji thanked him and climbed into the saddle, glancing up as he heard a small voice call to him. He looked to the third level where Rukia was standing at a balcony laced with ivy.
"Take care and hurry back, Renji," she called, waving.
He nodded, turning the horse down the long drive.
"And thank you."
He grinned at her. "Don't get married until I get back."
"What's your hurry?" Her voice turned amused. "You have a girl in port? Can't she wait a few days?"
"Not in port," he said, losing some of his grin. "I don't think she can wait, either."
She nodded. "Hurry back."
Leaving the harbor of Meritsone was without problem, and without one of Renji's usual choices as first mate. Izuru had retuned already that day, soused with ale and immediately went below to the forecastle to slouch into a hammock. Much as Renji wanted to wait out Shuuhei's dalliances in the local brothels and taverns, he wanted even more to slip out of port below the watch of the ship master overseeing the docks.
He waited for an hour, and after no sign of Shuuhei, drunk or otherwise, he gave orders to set sail without him. There was a slight ruckus when the Scarlet Reaper left the docks, an outcry of the dock officer as Renji ordered the sails pulled by the half crew that had managed to return from their drinking bouts early that evening. The scuffle at the docks wasn't severe, a few promissory oaths called to him as the ship left the port.
Renji didn't take them too seriously. He was more concerned about his sparse crew. It was more manpower than he'd had on the previous voyage to Hueco Mundo, but still barely enough to make the trip safely.
The day's dry heat was at full power when the Scarlet Reaper docked in Blue Haven three days later. Renji had spent the time learning the map of Hueco Mundo and memorizing the oases and few roads inland. He left the now sober Izuru in charge of the ship with instructions for the next few days and set out into the trade town with second thoughts about his mission. He made the usual purchases to see him through travel to Las Noches, choosing a stout gray horse that the seller promised was as durable as any camel.
He joined up with a lagging crew of gypsies and their cart of carpets and bolts of cloth. No one spoke to him and he offered no conversation, except to a few young boys, hoping to find one to mind his horse should the need arise. He had no set plan, no real idea of how to get out of Las Noches with one of the prisoners, should he succeed in finding the same girl he'd seen earlier from their rescue of Rukia.
Perhaps she'd be gone, ransomed or rescued, or maybe he'd be too late for any such mission. He wasn't even sure why he was going back, except the sheer desolation of leaving anyone, especially a woman, in the sand pit of Las Noches left him tasting bile.
Five hours into the hot, dusty travel on the trade road and Renji was eager for the compound governed by Aizen to loom on the dunes. When it did appear, he urged the gray horse closer to the gypsy wagon he'd adopted and waved over a youth of about eleven years.
Renji leaned down in the saddle as the boy neared, suspicion in his eyes peeking over the cowl scarf across his face. "When we get to the city," he told the boy, "you mind my horse and I'll pay you two coins."
The boy nodded, eyes locked on Renji's at the thought of money. "Gold?"
Greedy brat, Renji thought. "Silver."
The boy nodded quickly. "A deal!"
"Good."
There was no problem slipping into Las Noches, as the first time, this time with the tall black haired guard at the entrance waving nearly everyone through. Renji recognized Nnoitra as the guard who'd inspected a few of the merchant wagon's on his initial trip into the compound. True to his word, once inside the gates, the gypsy boy reappeared from the milling throng of merchants and took the gray horse's bridle.
"Two silver?" he asked as Renji dismounted.
He nodded, eyes already on the gypsies and merchants setting up stalls and tents again in the half circle near the collection of buildings centered in the walled city. The place was much the same as it had been a week ago, the security no higher, it seemed. It made Renji wonder if Rukia was even missed yet.
He left the horse with the boy near where his family of vendors was setting up camp and pulled his cowl scarf over his face better, searching for the prison he'd accessed previously. He made his way there, undetected as a problem among the chaos of tents and stalls being erected, nodding or shaking his head to anyone who sent a call his way.
The prison doors to the blacksmith storage area was closed, but unlocked and Renji stealthily let himself in. The interior was unlit, the only dim light coming from the torches farther into the dungeon. He followed the hall to where it turned narrower, doors open to cells to either side of him as he silently followed the corridor.
He wasn't certain of the way back to where he'd left the girl a week ago, but within half an hour he knew he'd searched every inlet and cell he'd passed on the first visit. All the doors were unlocked and open, and the inlet where he thought the girl should be was empty.
It left him confused and beginning to think she'd already been ransomed. The chill air was welcome after the scorching heat of the day, but it was an eerie chill thick with dank, unwashed smells and old blood. From deeper within the sunken depths he heard a man's voice booming, followed by female voices.
"Stop it! Stop it, Grimmjow! You'll kill her!" one cried.
"You think Ulquiorra will stand by for this?" the man shouted, echoing down the stone corridors to where Renji was searching. A loud snap split the air sharply and a woman's cry sounded, followed by something being thrown about. "Get out or I'll kill you both!"
There was the thud of bodies against the wall and it sounded to Renji that there may well be corpses soon to follow. He made his way toward the commotion, which was now accompanied by a woman's painful cries and feet shuffling.
The sounds grew slower and he followed the dark corridor, conscious of another soft weeping closer. The hall was lined with cell doors, most open, the few torches lit flickering dancing shadows on the walls. He remained in the darker areas as footsteps retreated down the hall ahead.
"Where are the keys?" a woman's voice asked lowly from ahead, making Renji halt as Loly and Menoly came into view around the next corner.
He saw them leaned against the corridor wall, the lighter haired girl standing on one foot as her other leg failed to support her weight. Her hands grabbed at her thigh, her face leased with pain.
"That bastard," she mumbled. "I think it's broken."
Loly scowled at her, looking down the hall opposite from where Renji watched them. Her attention went back to Menoly. "Where are the keys?"
"I left them at the door. I dropped them when Grimmjow came in," Menoly said, her voice tight. "Go get them."
"I'm not going. I'll wait 'til he's gone for good."
She put her arm around Menoly's waist and supported more of the girl's weight. "Come on. We'll find them later."
Renji watched them hobble away, muted curses for the blue haired guard lacing their language. He waited until they were gone and then looked back to a dim corner of the corridor ahead where another sobbing sound was coming. The hall was quiet aside from the low crying, the two female guards' voices fading as they left. Renji cautiously found the only closed door in the hallway, the sounds inside sniffles and meek sobs.
He looked in through the small barred window, seeing nothing. The only light was from a torch further down the corridor, and he knelt to find the dropped keys. It took a few moments, the area around the door strewn with wet straw and dirt on the packed clay floor. He finally found them, a ring with half a dozen keys on it. He stood and took a moment to fit the correct key into the door's heavy lock.
Inside the sounds of crying suddenly stopped as the door opened. He pushed it slowly, minimizing the metal creak of hinges. The cell sunk in, part of it hidden by the corridor wall. He looked around the corner, seeing nothing but a shapeless shadow at the floor against the far wall.
Then the form recoiled, pulling her legs close, her chains rattling as she composed her sobs, taking definite female form.
Renji gave a quick glance behind him and went to the girl.
Orihime shrank from him, whimpering as he bent and pulled her to her feet. She saw only his eyes in the poor lighting from the hall, his face covered with the cape's cowl, knowing he wasn't any of the usual guards on duty. "Please don't," she whispered, her voice strained from thirst and dust. "Please don't hurt –"
Renji covered her mouth with his hand, frowning as her terrified eyes widened on him, their color lost in the darkness. "I'm getting you out of here," he said as her wrist pulled against his hand when he caught it. "Don't say anything."
She nodded slowly, swallowing as he removed his hand and singled a key from the ring. Her heartbeat pounded fiercely through her veins, making her feel faint from the unusual surge of blood. She watched him try another key as the first failed at the wrist cuff. He tried the keys at the wall side of the chain. She glanced to the door, and then back to his face inches from hers.
"Who are you?" she asked, leaning closer so her whisper wasn't heard beyond the cell. "Who sent you?"
"No one sent me." He pulled down his cowl. "How long have you been here?"
She glanced to the new scratches she'd made in the stone floor the past few days. "Forty-seven days."
His hands paused on the lock at her wrist cuff. He gave her a more thorough study. Most everything about her was indiscernible in the dark, the color of her eyes, her hair, the exact features of her face and body. But he could smell her, and it wasn't the smell he knew should be on anyone housed in a prison cell for over a week. He leaned to her neck, inhaling the scent mingled with dust in her hair and her skin, one hand going to her waist as she tried to move away from him. It was a vaguely familiar scent, of amber and musk oil, her hair dusty as he lingered a moment longer trying to identify the exotic scents she wore.
He shook his head, turning back to work on the lock at her wrist chaining her to the wall. "You don't smell like you've been here that long."
She withdrew slightly, hearing more than feeling the lock give way to the key he tried next. He moved to her other wrist, and then realized she was freed from the wall, but still trapped in the cuffs. He figured it was close enough for the moment.
He pushed her hair back from her face, trying to see her better in the dim lighting. She took half a step away, watching him guardedly.
"Not another word. Come on."
She nodded and followed him out of the cell.
It took twenty minutes to retrace Renji's steps to the entrance of the prison at the smithy storage area. They slipped away unnoticed by anyone, hearing the griping and whining from Loly and Menoly deeper in the dungeon as they passed unseen.
Once outside of the prison they were greeted with more darkness, but this time it was the natural dark of night. Renji pulled at her wrist as Orihime paused, looking heavenward at the stars winking overhead in the hot night.
She answered by following him through the milling gypsies and merchants, their presence obscured among the other women and girls moving in the night under the warm desert breeze in the complex. Her feet were unaccustomed to the sand holding the day's heat, making her step quicken as he found the gypsy boy minding the gray horse.
Renji tossed the boy two silver coins, and then a smaller gold coin. "That's to keep you quiet."
The boy nodded, grinning, giving Orihime a brief glimpse as Renji tightened the horse's saddle cinch. He loosened a canteen tied to the saddle, pulled the cork and handed it to her.
"Slowly," he said as she lifted the canteen to her lips and promptly choked on her first gulp of water.
She nodded, eyes closing as she took a longer drink of the warm water.
He unbuckled a pack rolled behind the saddle and shook out the large embroidered shawl he'd purchased with the cloak and horse in Blue Haven. The vibrant colors were indistinct in the night, and the length would cover most of her, even pulled over her head. He glanced to where some of Aizen's overseers moved through the gypsies and merchants, then looked to the gates in the distant wall.
"We're leaving," he told Orihime when she'd finished half of the water.
She handed back the canteen, watching him warily. "Where are you taking me?"
He plugged the canteen and tied it to the saddle, seeing her look to the chain to her wrist he still held. "Out of here, for a start."
She licked her lips, her thirst only dampened. "You're not a gypsy or tradesman?"
He shook his head. "Save your questions."
He took the horse's reins, and then draped the shawl over Orihime's head. He pulled one end over her shoulder, adjusting it so little of her face was visible. Her dusty cheeks were streaked with smudged tears.
She looked to each of his eyes in the faint light from the torches at the nearest tent setting up. "You're not one of the guards, either."
He shook his head, eyeing Aizen's men moving among the tents and stalls. He turned Orihime to the horse's side. "Climb up."
She put a hand to the saddle, looking from the chain at her wrist to where it ended in Renji's grasp, her doubts of trading one captor for another. "You said no one sent you."
He felt the urgency to escape the grounds pushing on them. "No one sent me; now get in the saddle."
She wrapped one hand in the horse's mane at his withers, her fingers reluctant as her mind raced through her new situation. She looked up at him, trying to read more in his face, her legs weak from the unaccustomed activity.
"Where will we go?"
Renji didn't retort the first words that came to his mind. Instead his hands closed around her waist and he lifted her into the saddle, bringing a small yelp from her.
She was still positioning her tattered skirt over her legs as her climbed up behind her and took the reins.
"We get out of here first," he said, face crowding to her cheek as he pulled the scarf better over her mouth, the soft scent of expensive fragrance still on her skin beneath the layer of dust. "Later we'll talk about where."
She nodded, holding the scarf to her shoulder. She flinched slightly as both his arms came around her to gather the reins, turning the horse out of the gypsy camp toward the gates.
Renji forced himself the let the horse remain at a docile walk to the gate, trailing after a few camels and merchants that had packed to leave for the night. He waited their turn in the short line as Nnoitra gave a careless wave of his hand at the entry, gesturing them through with barely a nod.
Renji followed the camels for a few minutes down trade road, sending a cautious glance behind them as the gate creaked shut.
Orihime turned to see the mammoth gates move, shutting in the merchants. She tried to focus on Renji close behind her, but he only gave her a brief glimpse before his attention went to the road stretching out before them.
She looked out across the darkening desert still dry and hot in the early nightfall. The weariness of the day and little water caught up with her, but the uncertainty of her immediate future kept her from leaning against the chest behind her until Renji turned the horse off the road for the wide bank of uninterrupted sand to the north.
He heeled the horse into a gentle lope over the sand, sending Orihime's mind into a flurry of unasked questions. She glanced back to Las Noches as it faded out of sight over a dune.
She sighed, letting herself lean back against him, curious and exhausted.