((AN: Chapter two of the grand Orihime angst story I've had in my brain for a while now. Just to let you guys know, I'm going with Ulquihime. A couple reviews with an opinion'd be nice. Hell, a couple reviews or any at all would be grand.))

Orihime hadn't been immediately allowed to run around Las Noches, even once she gave her word for Ulquiorra to pass on to him. So she still sat in her pale white room, no longer imagining colors of the brightest oranges staining the walls. No, she didn't see things like that anymore. What Orihime Inoue saw was white, sickeningly sterile white. Orange? That color didn't exist anymore. Only blacks and whites, the palest of colors. The colors of Aizen, the colors of hollows. The colors of a chained woman's broken heart.

Now she sat in her room like a lady with her hands in her lap, no longer clutching her knees to her chest like a child. A decision had been made on her part; she was no longer the fifteen-year-old teenager that was drawn into Aizen's web and waited for her savior. No, she was the twenty-year-old woman that had become and would remain the fallen flower of Las Noches. She would adapt, or she would wither. Orihime was never one to just lay down and die; no, even if she did rely on her Kurosaki-kun for most of the good years, the time in Soul Society when they saved…her…the time when they ran amongst enemies and even made a few friends. Orihime missed Yachiru a little bit; she was a fun girl. If a little bit hyperactive.

Standing quietly, she stepped across the room as Ulquiorra's reiatsu approached. When he walked in, she was already standing and waiting for him to speak to her.

"And how did Aizen-sama take my words?" She queried lightly, and Ulquiorra could detect no hints of deceit in her voice or actions. He didn't make any sort of expression, merely answered dully. Orihime didn't so much mind his eyes anymore; the vibrant green was almost a welcome sight. She had come to appreciate his eyes.

"Aizen-sama offers his appreciation. He has told me to inform you that within a few week's time, he wishes to speak with you personally."

The tray rolled in behind him, and it was once again a feast, even more grand than the last. Apparently, once she cooperated then he'd be perfectly happy to offer her anything her heart desired. What her heart desired wasn't material, but what her heart desired didn't mean a thing in this white Hell.

"Schiffer-san…would you please eat with me?" She asked, quietly. Starving for some sort of attention, any at all. Her…no, not hers. He was never hers at all. Her Ichigo had never shown Orihime any sort of attention past friendship; she should have known that he would never hold anything more for her. Why did she even expect it? What a foolish little girl she was, a girl with her head in the clouds and an odd taste for food. Even now, that was disappearing too. She didn't hunger for olive tomato miso soup on rice anymore, just for something past bread and water. And apparently, when you lose all hope and cooperate with Aizen, he'll give you everything you could ever want. Besides what Orihime really wanted, of course.

"…Very well." Ulquiorra stated, also getting a plate. He wasn't required to eat, but he could. Hollows subsisted on souls, mostly, but Aizen had them eat and drink tea to create an illusory image that they weren't soulless creatures that felt hate, lust, blood thirst, constant slothfulness, overbearing pride or nothing at all. Aizen wanted them tame enough to follow orders, but not too much so that their killing instincts dulled. And the Arrancar, more accurately the Espada were perfect examples of what Arrancar should be and could get away with. Anything, as long as it didn't bother Aizen.

Ulquiorra moved to sit beside her, as she seemed to wish. He ate quietly, silently, and ignored the fact that Orihime was observing every single move he made. She never really looked at him before, but now that she did, she saw with what purpose, what incidental grace he moved with. Even just eating, he was refined and nearly ethereal in his actions. She loved how he could be like that, even as he was surrounded by people like Grimmjow and Nnoitra. He ignored her, acted as if she didn't even exist. It would normally have hurt her, but now…now she wanted him to look at her. She wanted him to notice her existence. She wanted someone to recognize that she was alive. And he was the only one that she ever saw.

"…Schiffer-san…" She began, before his green eyes swiveled over to observe her. Funny how it is, when you're ignored completely, how attached you become to the only one you ever see. Stockholm Syndrome, she denied to herself. She couldn't have developed it. Not for him, her complete and polar opposite. Could she? It was silly, he was…well, he wasn't like her. She wasn't like him. It was a silly thought from a silly, desperate girl. That's what she told herself as she spoke.

"…Um, could you…eat with me more often?" It was a soft question, very soft. She expected him to shoot her down. Ulquiorra observed her with renewed curiosity. His memory flashed back to the time when he stated the pure facts, that she would never be rescued and any attempts were foolhardy and she slapped him. She hated him back then, he knew it. But now she wanted him near her. Stockholm, inevitable effects of five years of captivity.

"…Very well." He stated, standing quietly and taking her empty plate from her hands, stiff with shock. He put them on the cart, beginning to walk out the door.

"I will return within six hours for the next time you will eat." He stated in cold monotone, stepping out the door and shutting it behind him. Orihime merely stared at her empty hands, wondering why she had asked. Wondering why he had consented. Ulquiorra Schiffer never would have done so back at the beginning. What had changed from then to now?

She lay down on her couch after he had left, a hand over her heart as she recalled the times she'd remembered her Kurosaki-kun on this couch. What she had thought was her Kurosaki-kun, anyway. Now, she knew he wasn't hers anymore. He never had been.

But one person, one saw her three times a day. One person had tolerated a slap from her. One person promised to eat with her.

She had one person.

And that one person was on her mind as she closed her eyes and drifted off into a light doze, one not focused on orange hair and soft brown eyes but instead, black hair crowned with a horn. A pair of emerald eyes.

___

Orihime followed after Ulquiorra quietly, moving through the hallways towards what Aizen had called a 'Tea appointment'. She felt natural nervousness, but much less than what she would have five years ago. Now all she had to lose was her life, and that wasn't even worth very much to her anymore. So what if she died; she'd just come back as a soul, and live out hundreds of years as that. And if she died again? She would most likely be reincarnated as a human, and be free of this place.

Nothing to lose, really. Nothing at all.

"We have arrived. Be courteous and respectful to Aizen-sama." Ulquiorra stated, opening the door for her. She nodded, stepping into a quiet room with a table in the middle. Aizen was sitting on the other side of the table facing her, smiling genially. She knew it was fake. Of course it was a fake smile; his expression could be so very kind, and his lips could weave sweet lies, but his eyes could never hide what he was.

The Lord of Las Noches. That's what he was, and that's what he would always be to her. He was not her friend, or someone to confide or trust in. He was her King, he was her God. Never her friend. Never.

"Ah, hello Inoue-san. Please, have a seat."

His voice was of a disingenuously caring tone, and she smiled in a way that was just as deceptively sweet.

"Thank you, Aizen-sama."

As she sat down across from him, the realization of what she was doing once again rose to her mind. It had tormented her for a good while from her epiphany a few weeks ago. The fact that she was going traitor. Then again, hadn't they done that to her too? They had abandoned her; it meant that they betrayed her compassion and trust. All the times she healed them, all the times she gave her heart to them. All the times that she put her life on the line for them. And they had betrayed it all.

"Inoue-san, I have gained word that you have decided to cooperate." Aizen spoke smoothly, tea being poured for them by a Numero who quickly retreated from the room to be called upon later. Orihime watched as Aizen took a sip of his, watching her intently. She smiled, not the girlish warmhearted sunny grin she gave so freely to the traitors back in Karakura. No, this was a refined and shaded smile, one that equaled Aizen's in deceit. She didn't care for him at all, and he very much knew this. He didn't see her as anything more than an asset, and she was aware. But what Orihime was proposing was to put that animosity down to rest, hide it so that it may someday be ignored or even forgotten.

It was an alliance she proposed, knowing what her 'friends' had done. It was an alliance he accepted, knowing that having her come to love Las Noches for all it wouldn't be was beneficial to him.

"Yes, Aizen-sama. I very much wish to put down this meager resistance I have had for the past five years. You and I, we are both aware that I will never be leaving here. I wish to at least somewhat enjoy my eternity here."

The words rang less poisonous than she had thought they would. They came entirely too easy, and Orihime knew she should have been more guilty for it. But she wasn't, she wouldn't be. It was for her.

It was the first time she had really done something for herself, instead of for the good of Soul Society, or the good of her friends. It was the first time she had ever taken herself into account, and it felt lovely. It felt so very good to finally think of herself. And as she sipped her tea very ladylike, keeping her gray eyes, once so soft and kind on Aizen. Now, they were sharp as broken glass and told Aizen that she had grown not only physically, but also mentally in this time. She wasn't going to truly trust him, and that was a smart idea. He didn't need trust, not hers.

"That is quite the good news, Inoue-san-" Aizen began, before Orihime quietly cut him off.

"Orihime. Please, just Orihime, Aizen-sama." She kept herself focused on the tea, to show him no disrespect. Aizen smiled a bit more, sipping his tea again.

"Very well, Orihime. I am very pleased that you have decided on cooperating. It will be attended to that you are not treated as a guest any longer. Not a guest, but as a resident of Las Noches."

He sounded pleased enough, but she could feel his eyes raking over her for the slightest hint of deceit. She kept herself respectful but reasonably dignified, lowering her eyes to the red belt at his waist as she drank her tea. It was a dangerous game she was playing, but it was all she could do.

"You will be moved to a larger room, Orihime. I will also allow the occasional trip into Las Noches itself, with an accompanying guard of course. We wouldn't want a resident to be attacked while she was in our home."

The words were lies; he didn't care what happened to her as long as she could heal his troops. She didn't even know if the Winter War had been won or lost yet, but from how nicely Aizen was getting by, she assumed he was currently winning. The tea was finished, and like a true gentleman, Aizen gently took her smaller, delicate hand and kissed it before Ulquiorra came in to escort her to a new room.

"I hope we will be able to have tea again at a later point in time, Aizen-sama." Orihime spoke to him, smiling in that same manner that suggested she didn't trust him at all. He chuckled a bit, as Ulquiorra led her out of the room.

"Indeed, Orihime. That would be quite enjoyable."

She was lead out, and Aizen ignored a couple Numero coming to clean up the dishes.

"It is something I very much look forward to."

__

Ulquiorra lead Orihime down a new hallway, opening the door for her and watching her walk in to look at the room with quiet appreciation. No longer just a couch sat in the room; now a bed was in the middle against the wall, opposite an open balcony that was who knows how many feet above the sandy terrain. There was a fully stocked vanity next to the bed, and a door leading off into what she guessed was a grand bathroom with all the amenities. There was a throw rug on the floor, and a clock on the wall as well as a small table with two chairs on either side. All in all, a very nice room. She would have wanted this room back when she spent the days dazing around in her tiny room, looking for the slightest thing to do so that she could be freed of her boredom. Now, it didn't mean too much to her anymore. She was free, in a way.

It wasn't exactly what she would have wanted back when she first arrived, but five years of being held prisoner will do some odd things to your mind.

"Dinner will be served in ten minutes, Inoue-san." Ulquiorra announced, and she noticed that he used her name instead of 'Woman'. He was also being much more proper with her. Was this also a result of being a resident of Las Noches?

"Thank you, Schiffer-san." Her voice was smooth as silk, but it held a certain tone of something akin to nonchalant indifference. She didn't really care if it was a bigger room, but it somehow appeased a certain aspect of her that had wondered why she didn't get something like this from the beginning. The balcony was a suicide risk, of course, but now she didn't even care to try. None of it mattered; all she had left was Las Noches and the Arrancar. And Aizen himself, couldn't forget how Aizen was always going to be staring over her shoulder. She was as much a marionette as every other living thing here. Beside Aizen himself, of course.

The door shut behind her, and Orihime stepped forward to lie on her bed. It was cold; everything was always cold. She didn't much mind anymore. She was used to the cold, it had become familiar and comforting to her.

She laid on the bed, closing her eyes quietly as the Shun Shun Rikka buzzed around her soul, whispering comforting things to her. They tried to make her remember her friends. They tried to persuade her to remember Ichigo, to believe that he was coming. They had done it before; why not try again?

"Come on Hime, he's coming. Have faith." Shun`o whispered, sitting near her face. Hinagiku, Baigon, Lily, and Ayame all sat around the princess, offering comforting words to her. Only Tsubaki hung back, observing the look in Orihime's eyes. The other Shun Shun Rikka might not have wanted to recognize what was in her heart, but he saw it. He was based from that section of her soul, after all. He knew it, Tsubaki was the one that would willingly recognize it.

"Go away. All of you, leave. I…I don't want to hear it. You lie." Orihime spoke quietly, and Shun`o recoiled at the words.

"B…but Hime…" she began, before the woman sat up and looked at all of them.

"I made my decision, for my own good and for yours. Don't…don't make me regret it." Her words were decisive, and the six flowers returned to her hair clips. Orihime didn't want to be lied to, and she knew that what they were holding was the last bits of hope in her soul that were burning out like embers.

"…I don't want it anymore. Hope…hope died for me. Now, I'm going to be what I have to be. I won't die here, because of a silly thing like hope. I'm going to take control and think of myself for once."

She turned her eyes to the open balcony, to the backwards moon.

"I…I'm not anybody's princess anymore."

She stood, walking out to the balcony edge and looking out over the white expanse of Hueco Mundo. The last embers burned themselves out, and were replaced with something much more useful here. Pride. Self-reliance. Hatred towards her former friends. Anger at them for never coming. And the very last bits of orange so bright it burned the corneas disappeared from her soul.

"I'm going to be a queen."

((Funny story with this chapter. I was looking up Stockholm syndrome on Wikipedia, to make sure I wasn't getting it mixed up with something else. And guess what the 'In Popular Culture' section said. Yeah, that's right; it stated the possibility of Orihime having Stockholm syndrome for Ulquiorra. Feel the pure irony of it. And be reminded that I had already written the Stockholm section before looking it up. I was coincidentally listening to Welcome to the Jungle when I wrote this chapter too. Review if you like the story, because when I don't get feedback, I tend to get bored and go off to work on another one. Thanks again!!))