A/N- Please leave a review telling me how I can improve, or any errors I made. I will try to write characters as in character as possible, but I might have to bend them a little for the sake of the story.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, or any lyrics

Warning: Non- Ulquihime pairing in this chapter. In a couple of chapters, I'll give Ulquihime a huge love scene to make up for it, 'kay?

Chapter 11

The Clock Strikes Midnight, the Princess in Chains

"She's been talking to Okashii," Grimmjow said suddenly.

"She has?" Ulquiorra asked. He remembered seeing the two of them together in Orihime's room. But that was before he knew…

"Even that didn't jog her memory," Grimmjow said in a frustrated voice. "Even talking to Elizabeth herself couldn't wake her up."

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Today was the day. At noon today, Orihime would marry Aizen. She would be married to Aizen, and bound to Las Noches. There would be no escape, there would be no mercy. Despite the dignified title of Queen, she doubted she would be respected. Power was respect here, and she lacked that. No matter how strongly Aizen sugar-coated it, she would still be a prisoner.

She didn't let herself hope that Ichigo would come and save her dramatically, right before she sold herself to the devil. She didn't dare dream of something so far out of the realm of possibility. There would be no rescue, there would be no redemption.

"I'm so sorry Ichigo," she whispered within the white confines of her room," In the end, he always wins." Of course he did. It was so simple, really. Aizen was powerful, and powerful people win. Ichigo was powerful too, but his power was unstable. Aizen had monstrous strength perfectly controlled, while Ichigo struggled to keep her power in check. Aizen was not bound by morals or ethics, but Ichigo was tied down by his uncertainty. Ichigo had never stood a chance, really.

It was strange, the way she could think all of this with a cool indifference, as if she were merely reading an unpleasant book she could put down at anytime. When had she become so divorced from reality? After her kiss with Ulquiorra? Grimmjow?

It didn't matter. The simple truth was she was no longer Orihime, who was modest and trusting and meek and chaste. She was wild, paranoid, resentful, and out of control. She was slowly turning into a monster, pressed under Hueco Mundo's gravity. It was conform, or die. There was no standing up for what you believed in.

She sighed sadly. Any second now, Halibel would come and help her get ready, and she would smile cheerfully and pretend to be excited. How long could she sustain her cheerful shell? Could it last through the wedding ceremony? What would happen on the wedding night? She remembered Okashii's words when they had spoken about the wedding night. I wouldn't put it past him. What was she going to do?

She allowed herself a moment of pure misery, letting it wash over her, running its course. She let the tears flow freely, basking in the open feeling. She cried for a few minutes before wiping away stray tears, straightening her dress, and checking her breathing. She composed herself, waiting with what was left of her dignity for the beginning of the end.

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Aizen smiled as the servant arrancar set up the last wedding decorations. In a few hours, he would have trapped the white queen, turning her to black. He frowned. That dead arrancar, Okashii, had gotten her annoying chess metaphor stuck in his head.

The more he thought about it, the more he believed the damage Okashii did went deeper than he knew. He could feel something stirring underneath Orihime's surface, just hidden from his view. Not for long, he thought wickedly. He had much in store for his bride, unbeknownst to her. She really was similar to Hinamori, except that Orihime was actually useful.

Aizen was no fool. He knew something was happening between Orihime and Ulquiorra, not to mention Grimmjow. Yet no matter how many theories he came up with, none seemed to fit. He was missing something vital, of that he was sure.

Maybe he didn't need know. It wasn't important why, really. All that mattered was what. All he needed to know was if they were still loyal to him. And he had a perfect plan for figuring that out.

He summoned the Espada.

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Aizen looked around the table at his soldiers, a calm look on his face. "The time has almost come for my plan to be carried out," he said placidly," You have all done wonderfully. The girl is thoroughly under our control."

His eyes shifted to Grimmjow. "However," he continued, still dangerously calm," it has come to my attention that a certain person kissed Orihime, despite my clear instructions that you were to be her friend."

"Friends with benefits," Nnoitra smirked.

Grimmjow felt trapped. He knew Ulquiorra wouldn't rat him out, as his actions were for the sake of Orihime remembering. Halibel, however, would feel no such hesitation to turn him in. What was he supposed to say?

"Blame yourself for giving her such a tight dress," he shot back, despite the obvious stupidity of saying such a thing.

Aizen ignored him. "However, I have chosen to be lenient with you. I will not demote you, nor will I punish you. As for the effects your actions have put on the plan, I have modified your role to compensate."

Grimmjow felt a sick feeling forming in his stomach. "Modified my role…?"

"Yes. Your role is now very similar to Nnoitra's, except this time, Halibel and Ulquiorra will not interfere."

It was all Grimmjow could do not to vomit. "You want me to rape her?!" he exploded. This could not be happening.

"I wouldn't put it that way, but yes," Aizen answered. "By acting the way you did, you left me no choice but for me to make you an antagonist in her eyes. This works out well, because the emotion trauma will push her closer to me."

"You want me to rape her?!" he yelled again.

Aizen chuckled good-naturedly. "Have some eloquence, Grimmjow," he chided.

Grimmjow felt absolutely disgusted. There was no way he could do that to Abigail after all that had happened to her with men in the past. But if he didn't, Aizen would know something was going on between him and Orihime, and he might trace it back to Ulquiorra, too. This was a lose-lose situation, definitely.

"Do you have any questions?" Aizen asked.

Why are you such a sick bastard? Grimmjow thought venomously. But slowly, mechanically, he shook his head.

Aizen smiled. "Very good. You are excused to go do that. The rest of us will remain here a bit longer, to discuss more plans."

In other words, he would get no chance to meet with Ulquiorra before he left. This was going from bad to worse. He rose fluidly, and stalked out of the room, wishing for the millionth time that he was strong enough to wipe that self-satisfied smile off Aizen's face.

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Orihime was expecting Halibel to help her get ready for the wedding, so she was surprised to see Grimmjow come in, and she noticed with a sickly feeling that he was alone.

"Are you hurt?" she asked. "Did you and Ulquiorra fight? Do you need me to heal you?" He didn't have a scratch on him, but Orihime was just avoiding the subject of what happened last time. He didn't merit her pointless questions with answers.

His stare burned into her, it was so fierce. Even his spiritual pressure felt rougher. He stepped forward, getting into her personal space. She started to back up, but he grabbed her wrist, stopping her from moving. She felt her blood turn to ice. "Grimmjow…" she pleaded, trying in vain to free her wrist. What had gotten into him lately?

"Be quiet," he ordered in a tone that left no room for arguing. She felt all protests fall dead on her lips. What was he going to go? He pulled her into him, so she was pressed against his chest. She felt a prickle of tears come back.

"Take us somewhere else," he commanded. She stared blackly at him for a moment, not quite getting what he was saying. He growled. "Use your stupid pixies to take us somewhere else," he ground out.

"Where?" she asked quietly, feeling very small and weak as his spiritual pressure increased with his frustration.

"Anywhere private," he ordered," Preferably my room." She swallowed. Why this happening?

She heard a voice whisper in her head," Trust me and take my hand;
when the lights go out you will understand."She stiffened. That voice had definitely been Okashii. How was Okashii talking in her head?

She wondered if she trusted Okashii. She had been the one to leave Orihime with Grimmjow, then ditch her. She tried to ignore the voice.

"No!" the voice cried indignantly. "Trust me! For the sake of my fleeting sanity, listen to me!"

Why? Why listen when the last time had gone so horribly?

"Fine! If you won't listen to me, listen to logic! Doesn't he seem a little uncaring for what you think he intends to do?"

She couldn't help but think that over. Grimmjow certainly didn't seem… aroused… just angry.

"Almost as if. It. Isn't. His. Idea." The voice grit through imaginary teeth.

Orihime relented. "Mutsuten Itenshun, I reject," she chanted, orange circling Grimmjow and her. It spun around them and Orihime willed them to Grimmjow's room. There was a slight pain, a result of carrying both Grimmjow and herself. She didn't relent, however, placing her trust in Okashii and Grimmjow.

"Thank you. I have to go now; it's difficult to maintain two links at once."

What? What was that supposed to mean? Orihime didn't get an answer. She and Grimmjow landed in his room, Orihime stumbling slightly. It was ten times as difficult to transport two people, but she had pulled through somehow. With that resolved, she turned back to the problem at hand.

Grimmjow looked considerately calmer, and released Orihime wrist. He walked over to his bed and sat on the edge, burying his head in his hands. Orihime hesitated, before walking over to him. She placed a hand lightly on his shoulder. "What happened?" she asked softly.

He looked up at her, looking confused by her gesture. Orihime wasn't surprised. Turning the other cheek wasn't very common in Las Noches. He patted the spot next to him on the bed and she sat without thinking. He stared at her disbelievingly before sighing. "You'd still sit next to me after that? Are you that stupid?" He sounded weary, like the weight of the world resting on his shoulders.

"I don't think it was your choice," she said slowly," and you haven't made a move toward me since we got here." He nodded approvingly.

"Good observation, but you might want to be a bit more cautious."

"What happened?" she repeated. Her curiosity was eating at her.

"It was Barragan," he said mechanically, with no conviction in his voice," He has it out for me, and he ordered me to… rape you so I'd get in trouble with Aizen."

Her doe eyes widened. The third Espada had ordered him to do that just to get Grimmjow in trouble?

"Why did you do it?" she asked, not quite believing him.

"I can't refuse a higher ranked Espada," he said in his same dead voice that carried no weight. Did he want her to not believe her?

"Why are we safer here?"

"Your room is bugged," he answered, a spark of life animating his tone. He looked amused. "There are cameras everywhere."

She sputtered indignantly. "You watch me?!" she demanded.

He smirked. "Not me. Your trusty guardian, Ulquiorra."

She paled. "Even when I was changing…?" she sounded horrified.

His grin widened. "We wouldn't want you making any escape attempts, now would we?"

She shivered. He noticed, and pulled her onto his lap, hugging her close to his warmth. "You're like an iceberg," he complained good-naturedly," You bring a new meaning to the term 'cold feet'."

She smiled despite herself. She snuggled closer to him, allowing his warmth to spread through her frozen muscles, relaxing them.

"You're going to have to act as if I raped you," he informed her.

"Does that mean I won't get to talk to you anymore?"

"I think I'll survive a while without you talking," he said sarcastically.

"I don't think you're as bad as you like people to think," she murmured, sounding sleepy.

"Hmm?" he asked, a smile gracing his usually harsh features.

"I think you're a good person," she insisted. Her eyes started to close, and her head rested on his chest. She was feeling the effects of moving two people, and they were exhausting. Maybe she could sleep through her own wedding.

He chuckled. "Don't get ahead of yourself, princess."

She sighed. "Why does Ulquiorra never smile?" she asked groggily, before her head lolled.

He didn't release her; afraid she would lose herself without something to hold her together. It was a few hours before her wedding. He and Ulquiorra were no closer to making a plan. "Because when he lost you, he forgot how," he whispered in her ear, hoping she could hear his words in a dream and be comforted by them.

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When Orihime woke up, she was in her own room, with Halibel standing over her. Her head swam and she mumbled something to the effect of 'five more minutes'.

"Are you alright?" Halibel asked in her melodic voice.

"Huh?" Orihime rubbed her eyes, trying to remember what had happened.

"I found you in Grimmjow's room," she murmured gently," Your clothes were ripped, and you had minor cuts and bruises."

Orihime remembered in a flash. He had gone so far as to tear her clothes and bruise her? Was he that afraid of someone figuring it out?

"I… don't remember it so well," Orihime lied," Just that it was painful."

Halibel nodded sympathetically. Orihime was confused, to say the least, about the truth of this situation, but she decided to go along with what Grimmjow had told her.

Halibel helped her get ready, as well as several servant arrancar. She slid into her dress, thinking about Ulquiorra reaction to it. The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that his expression upon seeing it had been angry. It didn't make any sense.

Her hair was curled softly, so is cascaded down her back in orange ringlets. She decided to keep her hair clips in, unable to shake the feeling that she would need them. Her nerves were frayed, and she was more then a little paranoid. She felt sick to her stomach, a dark feeling of danger churning inside of her. She envied the girls who only felt nervous and excited on their weddings.

Halibel wore a beautiful dress of midnight blue silk, contrasting her normal colors. It was a very high turtleneck, hiding the bottom part of her face like her uniform did. It was short, showing off thin, muscular legs that would make any girl die with jealousy.

When they were done, they made their way towards the large room were the wedding would be held. There was a stiff air of melancholy around Orihime, like a proud woman walking towards the noose that would take her life for an uncommitted crime. Orihime felt an icy shell growing around her, protecting her. It reminded her of Ulquiorra, who kept himself cold and unfeeling because, as Orihime discovered, that was the best way to protect yourself against the misery that bleached the walls here.

That was what she was doing. It had made Ulquiorra look so strong, so unaffected, that Orihime knew it was the best thing for her. She had long since decided that she walk to her noose with her head held high.

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The room was huge, and richly decorated with flowers and glass ornaments. Orihime drank this in with a cool indifference, not looking impressed or disappointed. Her eyes scanned the crowd of arrancar gathered for the one she wanted to see. Ulquiorra was nowhere to be found.

A lot of the guys were staring, although whether it was at Halibel or herself, Orihime wasn't sure. She didn't particularly care. Grimmjow wasn't here either, not that that was surprising. If everyone, including Aizen, thought he had raped her, she doubted they would invite him to her wedding.

She noted, with a slightly sickened feeling, that Nnoitra was there, and he was drinking in the sight of both of the girls with a lecherous eye. "Let me handle this," Halibel murmured. She walked toward Nnoitra and they seemed to engage in a conversation. They talked and talked, although about what, Orihime didn't really want to know.

Her eyes continued to search the crowd, and she finally found who she was looking for. Ulquiorra was standing next to Stark, only ten meters away. They wore matching black suits, with midnight blue silk shirts on underneath. Her eyes focused on Ulquiorra, her breath hitching slightly. She tried to imagine Ichigo in that suit, but she couldn't. Only Ulquiorra existed in her world now. Ben… The name drifted through her head like a gentle breeze, unable to be held. The memory felt disjointed, not matching with each other. Just flashes, or names, or a place; nothing solid to work off of.

She started walking towards Ulquiorra, trying to keep her pace relaxed. She didn't want anyone to know how edgy she was. When she reached them, they turned to her, stopping their conversation abruptly. Stark smiled politely at her, and she returned the gesture. Ulquiorra nodded once to Stark, who nodded back and disappeared. Orihime stared into Ulquiorra's eyes, trying to find some answers, but finding none. He was closed off again.

"You don't like my dress," she accused softly.

He raised his eyebrow in what looked sort of like amusement. "Pardon?"

"You don't like my dress," she said a little louder.

"You do," he countered," You love it because it feels familiar to you, like a second skin, right?"

She almost gasped. How had he known what she thought of the dress so accurately? "You didn't answer my question," she pointed out.

"Are you surprised by that?" he asked, still not answering the question.

She sighed," Sadly, no. People don't seem to want to answer my questions lately."

He nodded. "All in good time," he promised.

"Take your time," she said, sounding a bit bitter," I'll be here forever."

He almost smiled, as if enjoying an inside joke. "Alright then."

She scowled childishly. She was seriously beginning to hate these riddles.

"Where is lord Aizen?" she asked.

He deadpanned. "He's waiting to see you until the ceremony," he started, when the sound of music began to drift through the air," which apparently begins now."

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Ulquiorra walked her down the aisle, taking on the position of best man. Halibel and Stark waited next to Aizen, looking pensive. Aizen, however, looked incredibly self-satisfied. Orihime kept her face blank, not focusing on Aizen, but on the wall behind him. She met his eyes, but hers didn't carry any emotion.

She walked up to him, and Ulquiorra took his place next to Stark. The wedding had begun.

Aizen whispered something along the lines of 'you look beautiful' and she smiled hollowly and said thank you. Tousen, who she guest was the minister, began saying the traditional vows, although Orihime could swear she heard the word 'justice' said at least five times.

Finally, the vows where to be made. "I do," Aizen said smoothly. Tousen asked Orihime.

She hesitated a few moments; wanting to give Ichigo a chance to burst through the door, sword raised, to rescue her. Nothing happened.

With the coldest, most icy voice she could muster, she nearly spat," I do."

Then came the kiss of the devil.

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Sorry guys, I really couldn't bring myself to write the ever so cheesy 'knight in shining armor comes just in time'. Because seriously, that would be lame. And I don't really like Ichigo enough to give him such a glorified role.

Sorry if it sounded rush and/or was riddled with mistakes. I had a science project, a history project, an essay, and three math assignments.

I'm sure this sounds old, but PLEASE REVIEW.

Next chapter: The Clock Strikes Midnight, the Depth of the Treachery