Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.
Her eyes flutter open as the first of the sun's morning rays hits her face. She stretches lazily, enjoying the goosebumps that arise on her skin from spreading her arms above her head. Her feet slip out from her covers however, and she immediately curls her legs, pulling her toes back into the warmth.
With a content sigh, she then slowly turns herself away from the sight of the sun shining through a crack in the curtains, and instead faces the more beautiful sight on her other side.
It is so strange for him to still be in bed at this time. The war has caused so much tension and angst among the planet, and it is his duty to be up before even the sun, ready to consult in planning and overlook war preparations or peace negotiations. Today is a rare day in which he chooses to sleep in, and she feels a thrill at being able to wake up beside him in the morning again, even if is is simply a special treat today.
She smiles affectionately as she sees the slight furrow of his eyebrows; even in sleep, he is frowning. With a giggle, she slowly reaches out her hand, and places it in between his eyebrows, smoothing out the crinkle present with soft strokes. It works, and soon he looks simply peaceful, as if there is no heavy burdening troubling him.
Yet she does not stop. Her fingers continue to slowly caress his forehead, and soon she is reaching for his hair, feeling its softness slip in between her fingers and tickle her palms. He is a comical sight; one half of his hair is pressed flat against the pillow, while the other half is still in its trademark spiky state, albeit a bit more ruffled after a night's sleep.
Soon her hand is slipping out of his hair, and she traces the area behind his ear, until she reaches the start of his neck.
To make herself more comfortable, she props herself on her side with one elbow, and pulls her wandering arm out from under the covers, to allow herself more movement. With the blankets tucked under her arm, covering the rest of her body and shielding it from the cold, she slowly begins to move again.
She runs a hand down his neck, stopping only to feel his strong and steady pulse beat underneath her fingers. When she is satisfied by the evidence of him living, she runs her fingers down the rest of the path. She slowly runs her hand over the curve of his broad shoulders, sticking out from under their shared comforter, and then pulls back the covering, stripping his only layer to the waist.
She would have worried about his catching a chill from exposing his body, yet he always had a sort of immunity towards the cold. So much so, that he had discarded his sleeping kimono last night as always, despite the approach of the cooler seasons. As a result, she is rewarded with the sight of his bare muscular arms and body. She hums slightly in appreciation as her eyes greedily drink in the sight of him exposed.
"Beautiful," she cannot help but whisper.
It is true. He is the most beautiful man she has ever laid eyes on. More beautiful than even her, she thinks.
She runs her hand down one arm, delighting in the feel of his thick muscles covered in his tight, rough skin. She squeezes his bicep, marveling at the large bulge that signifies power, yet is able to hold her in the most gentlest ways. When her fingers reach his wrists, she jumps from his extremities to his body, as his hands are still under the blanket.
This is when her breath quickens. As she fingers his chiseled abs, her mind instantly brings her back to their passion in the night before, when she had taken care to lick each one and tease his naval with her mouth; his moans are still fresh in her memory, and she bites her lip to keep from taking a deep gasp of breath as she realizes that she need only dip her hands slightly under the covers to ...no, it somehow does not feel right when he is asleep and unaware.
She averts her eyes from the sight of the blanket drawn tightly around his hips, and instead moves north. She passes his stomach, and reaches his taut chest. As she places her hand in the middle, she is unable to resist temptation, and moves forward to place a kiss under her hand.
This is when he moves. She tenses as he shifts his body slightly, turning away from her and lying flat on his back instead, but he only gives a soft sigh before his breathing is normal again.
She chuckles. It is almost as if he is unconsciously giving permission to continue her ministrations. Of course, she will not deny the chance.
Her hand's journey near its end however; she slowly goes back up his neck, and then runs her hand across the outline of his rough jaw, feeling the soft bristles of his overnight stubble. When she reaches his face once again, she cups his cheek, and her wandering ends.
With a disheartened sigh, she pulls away. Well, she tries to, but a hand shoots out, and grabs hers before she can get too far.
"Waah!"
"Don't stop," is his only reply.
Lazily, he opens his eyes, a small, content smile playing on his lips. She sends him a playful glare, wrenching her hand free to place it on her hip.
"And just how long have you been awake?"
"Long enough to know you think me beautiful," is his cheeky reply. He enjoys the flush that spreads across her cheeks, knowing she had not meant for him to hear. "And a lot longer than you have."
"Then why did you keep quiet?"
"I was curious as to how bold you would be when thinking me asleep. And I must confess myself disappointed."
She rolls her eyes.
"If only I had realized you were so crude before I agreed to marry you..."
"Hmm, it seems we have a problem. It is hardly agreeable for a lady to adhere to a husband she finds distasteful."
"Oh? And how do you suggest a lady fix this problem, my Lord?" she asks teasingly.
He takes on a look of pondering, as if perplexed by the situation, before he grins slightly mischievously. She has no time to react before she finds herself pinned to the bed, her husband lying on top, holding her down.
"Well, it seems to me the only solution is for this lady to realize that her husband is the perfect man for her and discard any nonsense thoughts of regret."
"Regret is hardly the emotion I am feeling at this moment."She grins seductively, extremely pleased with their current position. He takes only one look at the way she parts her lips and slowly runs her tongue over them, and soon she finds herself locked in a passionate kiss.
"Mmmm. I must confess, your bristle feels very...sensual."
He grins before placing his cheek against hers, and nuzzling her. She cannot help but allow a giggle to escape.
But, alas, a king and queen have busy schedules, and soon they are called upon by the maid who tidies up their quarters, reminding them of the many meetings they must attend for the day, and must no doubt be postponed now, considering his small break in the form of sleeping in.
As the two fix themselves for the day, she shoots him a deliberate disappointed look. He chuckles before pausing his action of tying the sash of his kosode, letting it fall open as he wraps his arms around her, the two still experiencing their heat from the earlier morning.
"We can always continue at a later time," he assures his wife.
She smirks before running her hand down his cheek to his set jaw, feeling his short hairs.
"M'kay," she mumbles, allowing the light feel of the moment to muddle her speech. "...Don't shave, okay?"
.. ღ ..
He has never liked Izuru Kira. Perhaps because the man had been Ichimaru's right hand man, or perhaps because he lacks a backbone now that his captain has been branded a traitor, or perhaps – and he knows this is the real reason – because his wife had liked him enough to appoint him the new advisor to the king.
"All he needs is a second chance," she had argued when he had voiced his distaste. "He was only doing his job."
And so, he had grudgingly allowed the man to become his advisor, and even more grudgingly admits that he is actually very competent in the position. He might be shy, but he has years of experience in battle – this battle also – which makes him the perfect consultant for this war.
"I suggest we call our troops in America to retreat," he suggests one day. "That country is our greatest threat; they have already proven from their history that they are wiling to go to any means necessary to win a war. Am I correct, Your Highness?" he asks, turning his head towards his queen.
She nods, thinking over the plan.
"Hmmm, that's true. In 1945, they dropped a nuclear bomb over Japan. It killed thousands and harmed many from the radiation for years to come, yet they still entered another conflict involving nuclear weapons with Russia only years later. They really do go the distance. But, retreating our troops? That seems rather drastic."
"We need to offer our peace," Kira counters. "We have tried peace talks, yet the planet is not trusting of us, and they will not be if we harbor threats in their countries."
"But America might be too dangerous. Perhaps a smaller country would be better."
Kira pauses, contemplating the suggestion.
"Alright. Which country would you suggest, Kira?" the king asks.
"Well, based on history, I would assume the Nordic countries are the best choice. They do tend to stay out of major conflicts unless other countries bring them into one, and they do depend on the protection of greater powers from time to time."
"Alright, send an order to Hisagi immediately, and ask him to withdraw his troops as soon as possible. If the plan goes without conflict, we might be able to negotiate peace with those countries afterwards, and set an example for the rest of the planet."
.. ღ ..
"Hisagi-san!"
"Hanatarou, what's the rush?"
"I-I bring a message from the king! Well, it's a message from Izuru-san, but he received it from the king, so technically..."
Hisagi chuckles, amused by the panicked look on the small man, as well as his panting and wheezing. After all, he is not really one for rough exercise.
"Hanatarou, please just tell me the message."
"R-right. My apologies, Hisagi-san. Here is the king's message."
He pulls a scroll from the bag slung over his shoulder, and hands it to the awaiting officer. Hisagi eagerly unrolls it, allowing his eyes to run across the paper quickly, and then widen as he absorbs the words.
"Retreat our troops?!" he cries, aghast. "That's just mad! What is our king thinking?!"
"I-I don't know..." Hanatarou squeaks, startled by the man's reaction.
Hisagi shoots him a look of annoyance.
"That wasn't directed at you," he snaps. "You may go now."
Hanatarou bows, his body trembling, and rushes out of the superior's tent. Once he is gone, Hisagi leans his head back and rubs his eyes with one hand.
"So, what are you going to do?" a sudden voice asks. Hisagi uncovers his eyes and catches sight of his lieutenant general, appraising him with a calm look.
"We have no choice," he sighs. "This is a direct order from the king, so we must go through with it. I'm sure he has his reasons. Call for a retreat."
Soi-Fon bows before exiting the tent, intending to comply to her superior's command as quickly as possible.
.. ღ ..
"Orihime-sama, are you done with your bath?" a voice calls through the door
" you, Atsuko-chan. It was very nice," Orihime answers as she opens the door, wrapped in a silk robe and towel wound around her hair, and offers a smile to her maid.
"Come sit, Orihime-sama. I'll brush your hair for you."
"Alright."
The two seat themselves on the bed, close to the balcony where the cool night air entering through the open doors is strongest and feels the nicest. Atsuko unwraps the towel on her head, and the long orange hair tumbles down past her mistress's shoulders.
Orihime closes her eyes, allowing the consistent soft strokes of the brush running through her hair calm her, and represses a sigh. It had been a hard day.
Immediately following her morning classes with her usual tutors, she had received a call from her brother, informing her that he would not be attending dinner, as he had a very important client awaiting his presence at a very formal restaurant. Because the client was very high class, her brother felt it justified his reason for canceling the dinner they had been planning to attend for many months now as a way to catch up with each other.
She loves her brother. He is kind to her, provides for her, makes sure she is happy and content. Yet, sometimes she wishes that he was not so involved with his work, not so much in the public eye, did not own one of the most famous companies in Finland. Perhaps then, the two would have more time for each other, as they did when they were children.
And because of her brother's fame, she is also expected to adhere to the ways of high society. She must wake early every morning, dress "appropriately" for a woman of her stature, though the dresses she is forced into are uncomfortable, and boss around maids, although she desires no excess assistance in her life. She has an image to maintain, but not by her own choice.
"Orihime-sama? I'm done."
"Thank you, Atsuko-chan. Now, I'm sure you're very exhausted from today's hard work,"– she smiles warmly as the young maid reddens and splutters protests – "so why don't you go to bed now? I'll soon be doing the same."
"Alright, Orihime-sama. Have a nice night." Atsuko bows low and exits.
Orihime's smile drops once she is alone. She saunters over to the balcony, sighs as she places her hands on the railing, and lays her head atop, looking out at the vast sky. At least her brother had thought to buy an isolated house, knowing she is most comfortable in a private lifestyle. They have a wonderful garden that stretches for miles; she even has to take a car to arrive at the front gates from the front doors of their home.
For a moment, she admires the stars, so bright in the dark night, and then, for just a moment, her eyes flicker down, her gaze running across her family's land -
She freezes.
Are those...people she sees?
Squinting slightly, she lifts her head and, clutching the railing very tightly, leans forward for a better view.
Yes, definitely people, actually a very large group. How suspicious. What are they doing out here in the middle of nowhere and so close to her estate?
It is a split second decision, and soon, she is rummaging through her closet, slipping on a coat, and running out her bedroom door.
The night air is cool, but she ignores her shivers as she bolts towards the gates, it being too late for her chauffeur to drive her. She needs to investigate for herself.
.. ღ ..
"Are you fucking kidding me? A retreat! Only pansies and cowards retreat."
"Grimmjow, I'm sure you have no plans to deliberately disobey direct orders from our king, so stop your whining. None of us appreciate it."
Grimmjow scowls dangerously.
"Shut the hell up, Ulquiorra! No one asked for your damn opinion."
"No one asked for yours, either," his companion replies, calm and unaffected by his snappish answer.
"Yeah? Well, my opinions are hell of a lot more interestin' than yours -"
"No, they're not," anyone within hearing range interrupts. "Shut up."
"And don't talk to Ulquiorra that way again," a bald soldier with markings around his eyes growls, shooting Grimmjow a threatening look.
A low growl escapes the scorned officer, but he does indeed shut up, though he first throws everyone a very dirty look, flashes them with a rude hand gesture, and makes a show of refusing to look at anyone. No one pays him any mind.
"I'm sick of all this walkin'," a long dark-haired soldier grumbles. "Why the fuck can't we open a gate?"
"Because, Nnoitra," Ulquiorra answers, "we are under strict orders to remain hidden and harmless, in case a human spots us. This is a retreat, and is meant to be peaceful. We can't have humans discovering we are here and panicking."
"No one's around to see us!"
"Wrong," a pink haired one retorts. He points towards the distance, where a very extravagant building can be seen, barely hidden behind large trees and hills. "There's a house right over there."
"I'm with Nnoitra on this one," a man with wavy brown hair and a goatee says, stifling a yawn behind his hand. "A gate would be a lot faster. And a lot less work."
"Fucking awesome," Grimmjow grumbles. "Now we can be pansies twice as faster." He is ignored.
Ulquiorra sighs.
"Alright. I suppose we could, as long as we keep quiet and make sure the perimeter is secure."
Nnoitra rolls his eyes and, not bothering to check the area, holds his hand out in front of him. A green glow starts to emit, and the rest wait patiently for their way home to appear.
"Hey!"
The black haired soldier ignores Grimmjow's sudden cry, but the rest casually turn, freezing at the sight before them.
"Well, lookie what we got here," the blue haired man grins. His hands are wrapped around the arm of a struggling human female with flaming orange hair. She is half hidden behind a bush, the rest of her only visible because Grimmjow had pulled her out.
"No! Let me go!" she screams. "Who are you? I'll have you arrested for this!"
Grimmjow snickers at her feeble attempts to escape.
"You're pretty weak," Yammy comments, smirking.
"Guards! Intruders!"
"What are your pathetic guards gonna do?" Grimmjow laughs at the notion. "I'll snap 'em like twigs."
His humor vanishes, however, when she continues struggling and even attempts to bite his hand as defense.
"Look, girlie," he growls. "We ain't lookin' for a fight. Just keep your mouth shut until we leave, or else we'll have no choice but to drag you with us!"
She glares at him at the same moment the gate to Serra Leoa emerges out of thin air.
.. ღ ..
"I think it is later."
Karin grins as she steps closer to her husband, desire apparent in her eyes.
"Here, Karin? I hardly think our throne room is the right place."
"We're alone, right? I think this is the perfect time."
Before he can protest, she settles down in his lap, straddling and facing him, and presses her lips hotly to his, messily rubbing against his, per request, unshaved stubble. Though he rolls his eyes, he does return the gesture, wrapping his arms around her.
"My Lord! My Lady – ack!"
"Hanatarou," Karin groans, swinging her straddled leg off of her spouse and turning to set a glare on the trembling and horrified healer. He is, after all, very pure and innocent and has never seen such a display before.
"F-forgive m-me, y-your M-majesties..." he stutters. Karin and Toushiro grimace simultaneously.
"It is quite alright, Hanatarou," Toushiro attempts to calm the lad. "We were wrong to act in such a manner in such a place. What did you need?"
Hanatarou looks, if possible, even more petrified at the prospect of answering. Both royals immediately turn serious, knowing that because of the poor young man's timid personality, he is always stuck with delivering the bad news. What he has to say is no doubt unpleasant.
"Well, you see," he begins in a squeak. His eyes slide nervously over to the queen, knowing that the news he has to give would not sit well with her the most. "W-we had a few soldiers run into t-trouble while following your orders of r-retreat."
"What kind of trouble?" Karin asks sharply. She is very headstrong when it came to the protection of humans.
"Um, th-they were trying to open a g-gate, and a h-human saw th-them, and...um..."
"Spit it out!"
"They've accidentally taken a human girl hostage!"
Hanatarou gasps in air after he suddenly blurts out the message, surprised at his own sudden boldness. However, his breath catches in his throat when he takes notice of his queen.
Karin's eyes have turned a shade darker in fury, her fists are clenched at her sides, and her face is tinged with red. Both men present can practically see steam pouring from her ears, and, expecting the explosion to come, they take a step back, her husband not even bothering to calm her as he knows it is not possible.
"What? How the hell do you take someone hostage by accident!"
Wow, this ended up being really long. And all those Espada names were hell to type out on Word, always getting highlighted and aggravating me. I finally ended up adding them to the dictionary.
Who do you think I should pair Orihime with? I'm leaning towards Uryuu, but if someone is a UlquiHime fan, let me know. I'll go with the most popular pairing. But not Ichigo, since I'm planning on IchiRuki (surprise, surprise).