Come Back Alive to This Place – Chap. 2

A/N: Thank you to reviewers rootali, nypsy, VirgilTheart, Saga, tootsiepopgurl, Lonewingwriter, MondayRain90, Renee Tanaka, RabbidMaki, Cerice Belle, ichihime shaz, rin kage no kurokaze, Nightkill, Eldar-Melda, SalemDream, Gun d'ange, emo1sk8r, himefan, aifangirl, Flare-Flare, miss quirky bookworm, Shinigami School Girl; and to the members of the AiHime fan club on Bleach Asylum, for being my initial inspiration for this story and for being so supportive. Plus kudos to Lonewingwriter, who suggested I write straight through while I was feeling so inspired.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.

(Originally posted 9/18/11.)

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In the spacious guest chamber she had been assigned, Orihime at last unlaced her shoes and curled up in the huge four-poster bed hung with draperies to rest before dinner. Tatsuki, her maidservant, bustled about stoking the fire and setting out Orihime's blue velvet gown for the evening meal, and Orihime took comfort in Tatsuki's chiding her about messing up her hair as usual. It felt good to be focused on homely tasks rather than the ominous and vague threats discussed in the meeting.

After Soi Fon's dramatic announcement, she had gone on to hint darkly about evidence she possessed concerning secret meetings among traitors and clandestine alliances with the enemy, but had made no direct pronouncements. The meeting had dragged on and on and had eventually dribbled off into nothingness at the end of the day, with nothing decided, no really important information exchanged, no action taken.

Orihime sighed. She began to understand better some of what Rangiku had said about Yamamoto being a weak leader. And it really did seem to be true that these pirate attacks were being directed by a single person. Did the mythical 'King of Las Noches' really exist?

She shivered as she remembered some of the tales she had heard as a girl about the island of Las Noches that supposedly lay just off the coast of the Seireitei; only no one had ever found it and lived to tell the tale. Supposedly it was inhabited by soul-sucking monsters who occasionally came forth to slake their terrible hunger for human spirits on the mainland. Parents frightened their children with stories of the bogeymen who would attack them if they disobeyed their parents or strayed too far from populated areas. But most sensible people thought Las Noches was just a myth, merely a children's tale. Hearing Las Noches mentioned as a threat in an adult council of war seemed quite strange; however, it was true that all the pirate vessels sighted recently had been flying a flag with the symbol of Las Noches, a reversed crescent moon. There had been a consensus at the meeting that the mysterious pirate king was using the old myth as a means to strike fear in the hearts of his victims.

But why? And where was his hidden base? The king and some of the stronger lords had sent fleets in attempts to discover the location of a pirate base, or any island off the coast, but had found nothing. There had even been some dark mumblings about magical powers of illusion, of the ability to turn an entire island invisible… which others on the council had scoffed at. Today's age was one of science, Kurotsuchi had proclaimed. The old belief in magic was dying away. It was just another myth, one that would not stand up to the test of scientific experimentation.

Nevertheless, Orihime suspected that everyone on the council had left the meeting with the conviction that something needed to be done to combat the pirates of Las Noches, and the suspicion that Yamamoto would not be able to lead them to any kind of unified response. She wondered if she should try to seek out others on the council, form an alliance with a few sensible souls, try to develop some kind of mutual defense pact with them. The Inoue domain had seen its share of pirate attacks on their ships, raids on a couple of small fishing villages on their rocky coastline. However, such an alliance could be seen as rebellion and treason against the crown.

She sighed. It was so difficult to know what was best to do in these affairs of state. It was doubly challenging because she knew that the lives of her people could depend on what she decided.

She stood and allowed Tatsuki to lace up her dinner gown. The woman brushed her auburn hair briskly until it shone, commenting as usual on its beauty and how nice it looked against the deep blue of the gown. Orihime gave Tatsuki a grateful smile. They had been girlhood friends and had grown up together. Tatsuki was a distant cousin whose family had fallen on hard times, and when Orihime's position had elevated her to the height of power in her domain, she had gone to her friend and hesitantly asked her if she would be willing to take a maidservant position in the Inoue household. She still felt a bit uncomfortable about having her friend as a servant, but Tatsuki hadn't seemed to mind. She had pointed out that she always liked to work hard, and that her salary enabled her to support her parents and four younger brothers and sisters. And Tatsuki and Orihime still occasionally snuck off on adventures the way they used to when they were children. Orihime sighed. It had been a long time since she had had an adventure-everything was so serious now. She stood still and let Tatsuki finish dressing her.

When Orihime was finally ready, she was escorted to the grand dining room by one of the palace servants. She stopped a moment at the entrance, where the huge hand-carved wooden double doors were thrown back against the walls, their panels gleaming in the rich candlelight, and paused to gaze at the sight beyond.

The dining room was vast and high-ceilinged, with thousands of candles glittering in massive chandeliers hanging from long chains from the soaring ceiling. The hardwood floor was inlaid with a complex parquet pattern that ringed the room in a single symmetric design. Many long tables covered with fine white damask tablecloths were set with gold place settings and piled with steaming platters of food. Orihime took a deep breath. The food smelled delicious and she was quite hungry.

The servant took her to the long central table, and then stood for a moment searching for her name card among the place settings at the huge dining table. When he finally led her to her place, she was pleased to see that Lord Aizen was seated across from her. Perhaps this would be a good chance to get to know him. She observed him for a moment as he was speaking with his neighbor. His brown eyes were placid behind his spectacles, his tousled brown hair falling in his face in keeping with his reputation as a bookish man. He was wearing a white, ruffled shirt of fine silk under a black jacket and tails. According to Rukia's flash cards, he was in his mid-thirties. She met his eyes as he looked up and was rewarded with a warm smile. He stood up politely while she was seated by the servant.

"Greetings, Lady Inoue," he said in his deep and resonant voice. It seemed to vibrate within her, sending not unpleasant chills through her body, and oddly, she felt herself flushing.

She firmed her lips and gave him the polite nod of equals that Rangiku had drilled into her. "Good evening, Lord Aizen."

"I trust you did not find the council meeting too exhausting?" His expression was solicitous.

"No, not at all," she replied. As she spoke, a tall, rail-thin man in an elegant white jacket came up behind Aizen and bent to murmur in his ear. The man had fine silver hair falling in his eyes, which were slitted shut. He was smiling widely, but Orihime could not tell what he found so amusing. Aizen did not look at him, merely gave a brief nod at his words, and he glided away without further comment. Orihime stared after him, trying to shake off the odd sensation of feeling a snake coil around her skin. Then she returned her attention to her companion, who was politely waiting for her to continue speaking.

She hesitated a moment, then decided to go for the direct approach rather than sticking with meaningless small talk. "I was a bit surprised that we did not come to a decision on a joint action."

He raised his eyebrows at that. "Ah, Lady Inoue, it was your first council meeting." He met her eyes and smiled. "The rest of us have become accustomed to such a pace." He tilted one eyebrow at her, and she picked up on his subtle message, that he also believed that there were problems in the court of Seireitei. "You are a woman of action, then?" He raised his glass of wine to her and sipped, his eyes never leaving hers.

She considered him while she in turn sipped at her glass of water. His eyes were mild behind his glasses, but amongst the training that Rangiku had given her was a caution. "You must be quite careful with your words. You are a head of state now, and members of the court of Seireitei will speak in veiled hints and insinuations. You must learn to speak their language and understand the double entendres and triple innuendoes. Above all, you must not commit the Inoue household to any positions or alliances without careful consideration."

What was Aizen hinting at here? She chose her words with care. "I have always believed that actions speak louder than words, Lord Aizen. However, actions should be chosen with caution."

He broke into a smile at that. "I am a cautious man myself."

A servant approached with another noble in tow, stopped and looked puzzled. "Lady Inoue," he began, and then trailed off as he saw her place card in front of her. "I beg your pardon," he went on. "My mistake." He turned back to his guest. "My apologies, sir. I will find your place directly."

Orihime turned back to the table to find Aizen watching the servant depart with what might have been a tiny smile on his face. He swallowed another mouthful of wine, and then turned back to Orihime. "Do you believe that Las Noches exists?"

It was Orihime's turn to raise an eyebrow. "It is said to be a magical land." She set her fork down and waited while a servant scooped some delicious-looking stew onto her plate. "And I had heard you were a man of science. So you must not believe in magic?"

Aizen curled long fingers around the stem of his glass of wine, his face serious. "I am not one of those who believes that science and magic cannot co-exist. Science has great use, surely; but the world around us is full of mystery. Who is to say there is not room for magic in the interstices?"

Orihime nodded. "Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence, after all." She was enjoying the verbal sparring with this man. She decided it was time to try a thrust of her own. "What do you believe this so-called 'King of Las Noches' wants?"

Light from one of the wall sconces flashed off Aizen's spectacles as he parried. "Who truly knows what is in a pirate's head?" he said lightly. "Treasure, booty?" He shrugged. "A misguided attempt to destabilize our nation?"

Orihime pressed her advantage. "Do you agree with what Lady Soi Fon suggested, that he seeks to invade and conquer the Seireitei?"

Aizen chuckled softly. "With all due respect to the Lady Soi Fon, the Seireitei is a rich and powerful country. It is unlikely that a mere pirate could have much of an impact on us. I rather believe," he said, his voice low, "that the Lady seeks to increase concern among the more vulnerable members of the council and the Seireitei in general."

She stared at him. "Why would she do that?"

He raised his eyebrow again. "Why do you think?"

Orihime's eyes locked on Aizen's behind his glasses. If the triumvirate could raise fear among a majority of the council, they might be able to draw more members to their side. Could they perhaps be considering some type of action themselves against the king? Was Aizen insinuating something more than mere restlessness and impatience in Soi Fon's actions? She nodded once to show she understood his hints.

He shifted in his seat and gave her another warm smile. "In any event, I don't think you need to fear that a pirate poses any real threat to Seireitei. In the past, much of the peril this nation has faced has come from within."

Was he referring to the weakness of the king, or a potential traitor? Orihime opened her mouth to ask something more, but then was distracted by a commotion at one of the entrances to the hall.

"I demand my right of entrance as a noble of the court of Seireitei!" The man's voice rang out over the hall, and all conversation hushed as faces turned to the tall, muscular black-haired man striding into the room. Two servants and a guard trailed ineffectually behind him, their protests swallowed up by the man's voice. He looked up and down the tables and came to a stop at the foot of the long central table where Orihime sat.

It was the Lord Isshin Kurosaki, his long face and heavy black beard unmistakable from the paintings Orihime had seen. His eyes were fixed on hers.

"The Lady Orihime Inoue has reached the age of majority." His voice was loud against the backdrop of whispers. "It is time for her family to fulfill their side of the contract and give her hand in marriage to my son Ichigo." He glared at Orihime. "She should have arrived at the Kurosaki lands on her eighteenth birthday, as specified in the contract. If she is not presented to us within one month from today, the Kurosaki household will take it as a declaration of war between our families."

He raised one arm, and to her shock, she saw he held a long-handled knife. He lifted it aloft as the well-dressed lords and ladies near him gasped and shrank back. He weighed it in his hand a moment, then with a well-practiced movement, spun it between thumb and forefinger, drew his arm back, and launched the knife into the air. It spun end over end, glittering in the candlelight, until it lodged with a loud thunk in the table directly in front of Orihime. She sucked in her breath but held steady, her eyes going from the knife back to Isshin.

The man was grinning now. "We look forward to welcoming the Lady Inoue to our home." With that he spun on his heel and strode out of the hall, the guards only now clustering around him. With a gesture of arrogant disdain, he shoved the guards out of the way. Orihime could see that he was ferociously strong, his muscular arms easily knocking down two of the guards as he exited.

As Isshin left the room, Orihime let out a breath that she hadn't been aware she had been holding. All around her, there were rising whispers, sidelong glances, and mutters behind bejeweled hands. She assiduously returned to her food. Aizen was gazing at her with a look of concern on his face.

"My lady, I hope you were not disturbed by that display," he said. "I believe the Kurosakis' bark has always been worse than their bite."

She could see he was trying to comfort her, and smiled a bit shakily. "No, I am not disturbed," she said firmly, lifting her chin.

"Do you intend to go through with the wedding?" he asked, watching her closely.

"Of course," she replied. "It is a contract, and the Inoues always honor their promises."

Aizen raised his eyebrows. "Your honor does you credit, my lady," and there was a look of pity in his eyes. Orihime turned her gaze back to her plate.

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The banquet had gone on late into the night. Orihime had chosen to forego wine, and she was glad of it, as some of her compatriots had clearly overindulged and become raucous and belligerent. Others had fallen asleep in their chairs. Lord Aizen had sipped judiciously from his glass and remained lucid and coherent. She had found that he was quite a fascinating conversationalist, but she constantly had to be on guard against his rapier wit, and when it finally came time to retire to her room, she was exhausted. A palace servant had come with a candle to guide her to her room. She followed him gratefully, yawning.

However, she was satisfied with how the evening had proceeded. She had learned a great deal, and perhaps she had made a few tentative steps toward making an ally.

As for Isshin Kurosaki, she sighed. It was distressing that he had been so blunt and dramatic, but in reality, she had made her decision, and her family had already been preparing to send her to the Kurosaki domain for her marriage… perhaps not within a month, but certainly quite soon. She would not allow it to distress her. She would remain Lady of her domain even after her wedding, and most likely would return to her home shortly afterward. She told herself once again that she had always expected a marriage of state, and Rangiku's salacious stories of her own sexual exploits meant that she was quite prepared for what to expect in a marriage bed.

She sighed again as the servant opened the door to her bedchamber and lit several candles, then withdrew silently. She knew that the kinds of love and passion Rangiku described would never be attained by one in her position. She had resigned herself to it long ago. And perhaps Ichigo Kurosaki was not as brusque as his father, nor as unstable as the rumors suggested. From the portrait that had been sent to them, she had seen that he was well-built, with a trim, muscular body, and a handsome though sulky face underneath a mop of orange hair. At least their children would be good-looking, she mused.

Abruptly she got up. The walk back to her room had awakened her, and her thoughts made her restless. Out the window, the full moon shone brilliantly over the sleeping city, and she was seized with a sudden urge to take a brief turn in the gardens under the moonlight. She went to the wardrobe and slipped a shawl about her shoulders, then took a quick glance around the quiet bedchamber.

She could see Tatsuki was asleep in the small alcove off the main room. She hesitated for a moment. In the old days, the two of them had often snuck out of the house for nighttime adventures. She knew if Tatsuki were awake she would insist on accompanying her for her safety. But it was only into the palace gardens, which were well-guarded.

Orihime slipped out the door and glided down the corridor, turning left at the end toward the hallway that led to the garden entrance.

The night air was cool and fresh, and the gardens fragrant with jasmine and other night-blooming flowers. She took a deep breath of the still, cool air, savoring her unexpected and rare solitude. She was almost never alone these days, always surrounded by attendants or family members. It was wonderful to walk alone along the carefully tended paths of the formal gardens of the palace.

She was about to turn back toward her bedchamber when she heard a deep, familiar voice. Peering around the hedge, she saw three men walking along the garden path. They were all wearing black, so she could not make out their figures, but then they moved into a patch of moonlight and she recognized them.

The one in back was the thin, silver-haired man she had seen whisper to Aizen during dinner. And the other man was a powerfully-built dark-skinned man that she had seen with Aizen before—his bodyguard. The man in front, leading the others, was none other than Lord Aizen himself. Now why was he stealthily leaving the palace grounds so late at night? Orihime frowned. Rangiku always said, "Curiosity killed the cat," and she was frequently referring to Orihime when she said it.

She hesitated. It was none of her business, really. Then she heard the deep voice say, "… marriage to Ichigo Kurosaki…" and her ears pricked up. They were talking about her. How dare they, she thought, rather indignantly, and found that her feet had begun taking her along a path that would parallel the men's as they exited the gardens. They had turned the corner at the end and she heard the faint creak of a gate opening.

When she peered around the gate, she found herself in one of the wide streets surrounding the palace. She hesitated a moment. Should she really leave the safety of the palace? And where was the guard on this gate? As she looked down the street, she saw the three men about to disappear around the corner and made up her mind quickly. She ran lightly across the cobblestones of the street, following the three. She rationalized it to herself that she would be in no danger as long as she stayed near Lord Aizen and his men; surely any of them would be more than a match for any ruffians or criminals that might be lurking in the streets and alleys near the palace.

The men walked rapidly through the tangled maze of the city streets, and Orihime was hard-pressed to follow them. They were making their way in the direction of the docks, and she began to regret her rash decision to follow. But it was too late to turn back; it would surely be unsafe for her to return alone to the palace in the night, especially dressed the way she was.

She frowned as the men traveled further and further away from the palace and into the more disreputable docks district. What business could Lord Aizen possibly have in this area? The three men turned down a narrow alley and disappeared into a doorway.

When she caught up with them, the door had been barred. Scowling, she turned to the partially open window beside it. It was the work of a moment to shinny up a narrow drainpipe and slide over the windowsill. She stood for a moment in the dark room catching her breath. Her heart was pounding rapidly in her chest. She clutched her hands together to stop their trembling. She thought once again about turning back, but her curiosity was getting the better of her fear. Hearing voices further along, she followed the sound and soon found herself in a narrow corridor with a single door, which was ajar, a line of dim light gleaming from the room beyond.

She crept to the door and peered around the jamb cautiously. The corridor was dark and the room beyond fitfully lit, so hopefully no one would see her.

What she saw made her eyes widen in shock. The room was filled with men— but were they truly men? Many of their heads appeared misshapen, and some wore what looked like masks over their faces or part of their faces. Odd bits of bone were attached to the shaved pates of others. There had been a steady murmur of conversation when she had first heard them, but now, as the three men she had followed strode up the center aisle of the room, all conversation ceased. At the far end of the room, a large carved chair was set upon a raised dais. It was to this chair that Lord Aizen walked. He turned, and his gaze swept the room.

Orihime thought her eyes couldn't widen any further. Aizen was no longer wearing his spectacles. He had swept his thick brown hair back from his forehead, and revealed, his huge brown eyes were beautiful, mesmerizing— and terrifying. He seated himself gracefully in the chair.

"Good evening, my dear Espada." His voice was every bit as deep and resonant as she remembered. But what was he involved in here? Her mind flared with suspicion. Something was very wrong. "The moment we have been awaiting has arrived."

Suddenly, an arm as powerful an iron cable grabbed her around the neck and dragged her roughly down and back. Her arms were bent painfully backwards as she cried out in agony. Whoever held her pulled her into the room and threw her down onto the splintery planking, and then placed a foot on her back to hold her down. The room had gone deadly silent and all Orihime could hear was the ferocious pounding of her own heart.

"It seems you had a spy at the door," said a monotone voice above her.

She heard footsteps coming closer. "Lift her up so I can see her face, Ulquiorra," commanded Aizen's deep voice.

Orihime gasped as the man lifted her with careless strength and pulled her head back by the hair until her eyes met Aizen's. The man gazed at her calmly with no expression of surprise.

"Lady Inoue," he said politely. "What brings you here?"