Hello! im very excited for everyone to read this chapter. i hope you all enjoy. i was wondering if any one wanted to help me get some inspiration, to tell me what scene of this story has really stuck out for you? if you could leave a review it would really motivate me to continue this story!

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Bleach or any of its characters!

Lets jump right in—

Ichigo:

What is there to say when you stumble upon your friend wearing a demon's face? I, myself, didn't know but Rukia had no such hesitation:

"You fool!" She yelled in my voice.

It was enough to shock Bonnie into releasing the orb, it did not crash to the sewer ground, but instead hovered there. Flame flickering in near recognition.

"What- what are you doing here?" She stammered out, then spoke clearly, anger clearing out her lingering surprise, "Did you follow me?"

I yanked Rukia back, taking full control as I shoved my hands into my pockets, "I was merely out for a stroll, when I saw you sneaking between boxes and down potholes. You know I'm curious by nature," I tried to force my body to take a step, but it wouldn't, and so instead I peered around Bonnie to glance at the orb. "That's a fancy crystal ball, you trying your hand at fortune telling?"

Without looking back at the witch fire, Bonnie stalked toward me. She stopped beside me, pausing to glare up at me, "Don't worry yourself with it. In fact, you would do well to forget it all together,"

She took a few steps toward the tunnels I'd come from, and I watched the fire flare, calling out.

"Is that an order?"

Her footsteps halted, and then she sighed, "For once, Ichigo, just do what you're told."

I wanted to, really, I did. But I couldn't tear my eyes away from that blue flame, it danced in my vision. Weaving a story behind the glass of its prison.

Perhaps Bonnie had come here just to look at it, to examine it, and then the flame had seduced her into reaching out her hands to hold it. Because even though I had seen the demon in Bonnie's eyes, the black chaos, I wanted to reach out for the witch fire. To comfort it, to caress it, to ask for all the knowledge it could give.

Leave now, Ichigo, leave before it can memorize your face.

I felt Rukia's phantom hand press against my chest, as she tugged me back from that wicked flame. It wasn't until I climbed back up into the alley above, the wind drifting to me the smells of the world that my mind was fully clear of it. And it wasn't until I was settled into my tiny cot in the warehouse, as I tried to drift into sleep, that I realized the flare of that fire had shown a woman's face staring back at me.

I dreamed of cold hands and stale liquor breathed over my face. I dreamed of that face, the hollowed cheeks and the crusted fingernails. Dreamed of those nails ranking themselves into my neck, deep enough to draw blood. Tears marred my cheeks and sobs filled my belly but I never lifted a hand against the claws, even as the blood flowed and flowed. I breathed in the smoke until I was gagging on it

I woke with a strangled sound echoing out of me. My hands shook as I stared down at them, at the blood now crusted under my own fingernails. I reached up a hand to feel the raw skin of neck, and winced at the wounds there. Vicious and still bleeding.

As if I'd tried to rip my own throat out.

Orihime:

Having given the generals enough time to rest and recuperate after our journey, I summoned them. After all, I had not come north for dress wearing and fortunes.

And now, dressed in slacks and tunic, I looked far from a lady.

Even though their military was a fraction of the size of the Golden Army, they had four generals to oversee it. Two of which were old men who could barely hold themselves upright, let alone wield sword and shield. Elof, the quietest and perhaps most solemn of the Northern heirs was the one true soldier among them, but he did not seem a man who'd demand to hold a solitary title.

And then there was William Lorchan, who had perhaps been a warrior once, but his days of bravery were far behind him. His fear here in his home was less palpable, I'd give him that. Though the man still could not meet my eyes from across the table, even as I leaned casually back in my chair.

We had not spoken on our journey from the West, and he seemed fine with keeping it that way, despite his willingness for my presence and the protection it brought.

A sore, tired ache had began behind my eyes and I resisted the urge to dig my palms into them. I drummed my fingers on the arm of my chair, sucking on my teeth. My agitation growing more and more inside my chest with every tap my fingertips made against the wood.

As if sensing that rising fire, the door opened and in strolled Cuyler, with a casually lazy pace. Not caring at all that he had kept us all waiting. Or that there was still lip stain on his throat and half his tunic was untucked.

I stood before he could take his seat, "How lovely for you to join us, heir. I hope we did not pull you from something far more important?"

He plopped himself into his chair at the head of the table, hooking an ankle over his knee before meeting my eyes, "Don't worry, I was finished."

I stared him down long enough for him to gesture around the room, urging me to begin, but I felt if I opened my mouth only fire and smoke would come spilling out. Luckily, I was saved from having to swallow the flames when Elof spoke:

"I have taken the liberty of mapping the easiest routes for imposing armies to trek through," He slid a map across the table to rest in front of me, "You will find that there are many, and unfortunately we do not have enough men to post at them all."

I took my time looking them over, "Which ones already have men stationed?"

"None."

"You do not have watch posts at the perimeter?"

William spoke up, "We have never had a need, these mountains are not a place many people will venture." He sounded as if he was comforted by the words more than he believed them.

I ignored him, speaking instead to Elof, "How many would it take?"

"To properly man them all?" He paused, "Two thousand at least."

I nodded, "And how many men do you have,"

"About half that, maybe more, if we stretch the men already stationed here."

I surveyed the map, imagining how I'd approach the city if it was my intention to conquer it. The land was wide, and usually covered in fog and icy winds. There were only twenty watch towers that circled the entirety of the inhabited north, all stationed miles apart, with mountains separating them. There were only twelve that overlooked routes large enough to march an army, but with the narrowing of the mountain base and the risk of ambush from behind or above... I laid a finger on the outer border of the watch posts, "I'll need fifty men at each tower."

"So few men to protect the border?" Cuyler questioned.

"Not to protect, to oversee."

"Oversee?"

I dipped my quill in ink and slashed through nineteen towers as I spoke, "We rid ourselves of all entries but one. Blow the encasing mountain tops to block the way, leave them with only one way in."

An elder leaned forward, "Also leaving us with only one way out, if things don't go our way."

"If we fail, there will be nowhere to run, regardless," Elof pointed out.

"We won't fail." I drew circles around the mountain tops, "Archers here, with reserves of witch fire. We'll have the high ground, but if the lines are split, we give the order and down comes stone right on their heads." And we clean up the mess later.

Cuyler stood and leaned over the map, "What if they climb the mountains? Make their way through that way?"

I shook my head, "They wouldn't, it would spread their men too thin, leave them vulnerable to ambush."

"Humor me,"

I studied the lines once more, thinking, "We station half the men at the open posts. We know any threat will come from the west, we focus our numbers there."

"And if they can't hold the towers?"

"They fall back, regroup with us here," I point to the watch posts closest to the city, "And we wait. Trekking through the mountains and then the valley, would drain their forces. Weaken them."

"And we strike, a clash for the north."

I nodded, meeting his gaze. His brow was furrowed, the lines of his forehead deep. Then he nodded, and those lines lessened.

Cuyler looked at his brother, "Well, you heard the woman. Fifty men to the towers. They leave tomorrow at dawn."

Elof needed no further instruction. He stood, as did the others. My voice halted them, "I will be accompanying them."

"Heir?" Questioned an elder general.

"No disrespect, but I will not hand over witchfire to common soldiers. I will march with the men to the border, and will return when the task is done."

"You have only just arrived. Cuyler will be there to watch over the witchfire. Allow yourself time to enjoy our home, the northern lights will be visible in just a few days time, it would be a shame for you to-."

"I did not come all this way for northern lights."

"Yes, of course. Though, I'm sure Lord Ryley will-"

"Ryley is aware of my reasons for being here. I go to the border, I oversee the task, and then I return." My tone left little room for argument.

And yet-

"The men don't trust you," Elof said, always the brother who didn't mince words. "Having you along will distract them."

My hand on the map curled into a fist, "Then they shall learn to be distracted. I do not answer to them, nor will I cater to them."

Cuyler stepped around the table, reaching out a hand to rest on my shoulder, "Orihime-"

I knocked his hand away before it could touch me, "You will address me as Heir or as nothing." Shocked flashed on his face. "Ready the men, we leave at dawn."

I didn't bother for confirmation, before I stormed from the room.

Cuyler:

I buried my face in the crook of her neck and her skin smelled of smoke and soap. I couldn't remember her name, couldn't remember her station. Just that I had seen the flow of her hair and the cream of her skin and had to have her. I bit at her jaw and she groaned, but the sound was all wrong.

I pulled back just enough to see the sweat pooling on her skin and the way it made her hair stick to her cheeks. Her body was soft and smooth, her hands gentle as they gripped my arms.

Wrong. All of it.

I growled, thrusting hard and deep. It made her gasp, made her arch, her nails digging roughly into my skin.

I kept that pace until she was begging beneath me, until her nails were clawing down my back brutally.

She slid her eyes open, and I buried my face into her neck again before I could see the darkness of them.

And with the last few thrusts I made into her body, I imagined grey eyes staring up at me, filled with fire and limp with passion.

And everything was right.

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ooooooooooo sexy times