Come Back Alive to This Place – Chap. 5
A/N: I did not originally plan another lemon in this chapter, but when Aizen and Orihime woke up in bed together… well; let's just say that the characters took on a life of their own.
Warning: Lemon.
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. All characters are 18 or older in this story.
(Originally posted 10/7/11, edited 11/12/11.)
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Orihime opened her eyes after a night of disturbing dreams to realize that she was nude, rocking gently in a luxurious bed in a galleon on the open sea, and wrapped from behind in the arms of a man. He lay curled around her as she faced the porthole with the faint light of dawn just beginning to tint the cabin. She could feel his warm, firm flesh pressed against her back, could feel the unaccustomed soreness in her own body, and she flushed. The confusing memories of last night flooded into her mind.
She had enjoyed it, she realized, appalled. She had enjoyed an act which should only have been performed with her lawfully married husband. She was disgraced, and disgraceful to have found pleasure in lovemaking with a scoundrel and pirate. Tears began to quietly overflow her eyes and slip down her cheeks to pool on the satin sheets.
Her virtue was gone, taken by a rogue and criminal. There was no hope for her anymore; even if she were rescued, she would be seen as nothing more than a pirate's whore, unfit for ruling a noble domain. Her life as she had known it was over.
There was another factor that she almost didn't want to acknowledge as she lay listening to the rhythmic breathing of the man who held her. Her treacherous mind whispered to her that maybe she had never truly wanted to resist Aizen, that, even aside from the pleasure she felt with him, that it wasn't so bad to be his… woman. She finally admitted to herself that she had been miserable ever since Sora had died and she had been thrust into the role of ruler of the Inoue domain. It was not a role she felt comfortable with. She had hated being responsible for so many lives, and had felt the weight of her decisions like a soul-crushing burden. With her capture, one of the emotions she had secretly felt was relief… relief from the unbearable responsibilities of rulership… relief that at this point all decisions were out of her hands… relief that she could no longer be blamed if she made a mistake.
She felt a new resolve firm within her. She had nothing left, and in many ways she was freer than she had ever been, oddly enough, so it was time to make the best of her situation. Her tears dried up and she began to think about what she could do in this new life of hers.
She still had her duties to her domain and her country. Those obligations she would never renounce. From birth, she had always considered the lives of her people first, and that would not change. Aizen was planning to attack the Seireitei, so it was her duty to try to foil his plans however possible. Perhaps she could pretend to go along with him, and then somehow attack him? She frowned as she considered this. If he trusted her enough to sleep naked beside her, he would be vulnerable. A knife, poison, a cord around his throat in his sleep—all could end the threat to the Seireitei before it had even begun.
But even as she thought of it, she knew she couldn't go through with such an idea. One of her besetting flaws, as Aunt Rangiku had often sighed, was her incurable compassion. She knew she could not take a life. Perhaps not even in self-defense, and certainly not in cold blood.
She sighed. No, she could not defend the Seireitei by killing Aizen as he slept. There had to be another way. Finding out more about his plans, then sending word back to the mainland? She shook her head mentally. No; who here could she trust to communicate any information? She was completely isolated.
As she lay in the soft bed in the arms of her captor, another idea began to form in her mind. What if she could persuade him to give up the idea of attacking her homeland? He was intelligent and perceptive; that was quite clear. The conversation the two of them had engaged in upon their first meeting in the royal palace of the Seireitei, which now seemed so long ago, had been exhilarating. She wanted to understand how his mind worked, to be able to communicate with him.
For one thing, why did he want to do all this in the first place? He was from the Seireitei as well. Why plan to destroy his own country? With the king's weakness, he could still move to take power in the ruling council. She frowned. It was a puzzle. With Aizen's intelligence, she didn't understand why he had become a traitor, why he had come up with this elaborate scheme about the legendary island of Las Noches. Why the whole rigmarole with pirates? It just didn't make sense. If he wanted power, the logical move would have been to play politics in the ruling council. He could easily raise an army from within his powerful domain; he had no need to go outside. Was there something else she was missing, some critical factor she had overlooked?
She firmed her lips and felt her eyes narrow. So again, as she had thought the day before, the true path lay in trying to understand her captor. Understand his motives, and then try to persuade him out of his plans.
She stirred slightly and felt his arms tighten around her. His lips brushed her ear and she heard once again his impossibly deep voice.
"Good morning, Orihime. I trust you slept well?" He shifted in the bed and turned her to face him, his strong arms wrapping around her body. Her eyes met his deep brown ones and once again she felt a little shock at the beauty of his features. He did not wait for her to answer, his lips curling in a smirk a moment before he took her mouth in a possessive kiss. She resisted at first, purely out of habit, then sighed inwardly and allowed him to deepen the kiss, to plunge his tongue deep into her mouth and taste her thoroughly. Shamefully, she felt again the heat at her core as he laid his powerfully built body against hers and she felt his hardness stirring to life against her inner thighs.
His fingers threaded into her hair, holding her head in place as he took his time exploring her mouth, pinning her body down with one lean, muscular leg. She was utterly trapped, completely unable to move or even make a sound as one of his hands reached down and began stroking her naked breasts, and then slipped between her thighs. It was strange and somehow utterly thrilling to be held so thoroughly captive by this man as his long fingers sparked pleasure all through her body. Her loins began to ache and she moaned against his mouth, lifting her hands to run her own fingers through his thick hair.
He was beautiful. Utterly gorgeous from his lush, wavy hair down to his high-arched, narrow feet. Although it was truly disgraceful, a part of her could not help but feel a sinful delight at being able to indulge herself in giving and receiving pleasure from him. It was an extravagance she had never dreamed of being able to enjoy, even in her most secret and sensual girlhood fantasies.
His fingers were tracing circles on her skin as he kissed her throat, opening his mouth so that his teeth grazed her skin. He drew his head downward, nipping and sucking at the skin of her throat. His mouth trailed a line of kisses over the curve of her bosom. She gasped at the intensity of sensation as he licked her nipples and then took each one within his mouth. At the same time the fingers of one hand had found the hair between her legs and were stroking there, teasing, caressing, dancing. The tingling spread throughout her entire body; she arched up to meet him and gave a long, warbling cry.
He laughed deep in his throat as his fingers entered her and moved against her slick entrance. She could not help moaning and crying out, her hands fluttering to his back, her grip settling on his shoulders as his muscles worked beneath the skin. She could feel nothing but him, see nothing but his face, smell nothing but his scent hanging all around her and seeming to fill her to her very core. The pleasure built and built in her as he stroked her and she clutched him fiercely. As the pleasure peaked and ripped through her body, she could not help herself; she found herself screaming.
His eyes, looking down at her, narrowed with satisfaction at the sound tearing from her throat. He moved into position over her and she felt his length like a rod of fire against her body. Her cheeks burned as she found herself bucking her hips toward him in invitation. On his face was that arrogant smirk that she wished she could wipe off his face, but that in her most secret heart she found, somehow, appealing. There was something about his assumption of ownership over her, indeed, his careless dominion of everything around him, that made her feel weak and trembling, but not fearful… instead, she was filled with yearning. She shivered and spread her legs as he lowered himself down on her. Why her body yearned for his with a fervor she had never before experienced was something her mind could not comprehend.
All she knew was that as he entered her, more rapidly than he had last night, she felt somehow gratified; he slipped in slickly and she felt her insides hugging him tightly. She gasped at the intensity of the sensation as he began moving, rising and falling with a rhythm as ancient as the sea, driving her hard against the bed. She felt sweaty and hot and thrilled and excited as he took her, laying his claim on her once again, marking her as his own, until at last she felt heat flood her deep within as he stiffened on her and shuddered, his eyes closed and a look of ecstasy on his face, and then her vision went white and she arched up into him once more, an inchoate series of screams ripping from her throat as her nails dug hard into the skin of his arms.
His body collapsed onto hers and they lay together, pressed tight one against the other, Orihime feeling anew the odd experience of having a man lying so close to her he was inside her, so intimately entwined with her it felt as though their hearts were beating as one.
They lay there, unmoving, for a very long time, until she thought he had drifted into sleep. But then, as he lay atop her, he kissed her gently. "So beautiful…" he whispered. "You are everything I dreamed you would be."
Her brow wrinkled. "How could you dream of me?" she asked, looking up into his mahogany eyes. "You couldn't have known you were going to capture me."
His smile was arch. "You might be surprised as to the extent of my plans, Orihime." He lifted himself off her and rolled to the edge of the bed, then sat up and began to draw on his clothes.
She watched him, puzzled and curious. Watching him dress almost distracted her from the swarm of questions buzzing in her mind. His motions were graceful and languid as he drew on each article of clothing. He smoothed his pants against slender legs, flexing those elegant toes that she suddenly felt an urge to kiss. She frowned to herself. She wanted to kiss every part of his body, to feel his warm, firm flesh under her tongue and lips. She shook her head, took a grip on herself. Time to start asking questions.
"What do you mean?" she asked. "You knew I was promised to Ichigo Kurosaki, have been promised to him since I was five. I was off-limits to everyone since then."
He smirked as he flexed his foot, unrolling a silk stocking slowly up a well-formed calf. "I've had my eye on you for quite a while, Orihime. I even had your portrait secretly commissioned. Off-limits?" He chuckled. "I don't acknowledge limitations on my desires. I had planned to take you as mine well before I arranged for us to meet in person at that memorable dinner only two nights ago." His glance was dark as Orihime stared at him, puzzled and fearful.
"How—" she faltered, "how could you have even known that we would sit together that evening?"
He gazed at her. "That was the simplest of all. I merely had Gin switch the place settings before the dinner began." He reached out and stroked her cheek, cupped her face in his hand possessively.
"So you've been scheming to kidnap me from the beginning?" She wasn't sure if she was angrier or more frightened.
"I'd hardly dignify such a simple operation with the term 'scheme,'" he said, smirking again. "Shall we say, I ensured that you would have a chance to converse with me at dinner, so that when I departed the gardens later that evening while you lurked in the shrubbery, a comment I made concerning the bride of Ichigo Kurosaki would pique your curiosity."
His smile was almost as wide as his servant Ichimaru's as Orihime's mouth dropped open in shock. "But why?" she asked, her mind whirling with the implications of his statement.
His face stilled and his smile dropped away. "Ah. You see, everything depended on whether I bedded you last night." His gaze upon her was oddly intense.
"But—" she began, completely confused.
At that moment there was a soft tap on the door. "Lord Aizen, sorry to disturb you, sir, but you are needed on deck," came a voice from the corridor.
"I'm on my way," Aizen said, raising his voice slightly. He had almost finished dressing. Drawing on his boots, he stood gracefully. He looked back at Orihime. "I will have breakfast brought to you."
"Please!" Orihime found herself seized by a longing to see more of the sea and her surroundings and wondered if he might have softened toward her. "Please let me come out on deck. I don't want to be trapped inside this cabin another day. I promise I'll behave."
He looked down at her for a moment, amusement evident in his eyes. "Indeed. I don't think you'll have much opportunity for misbehavior on a ship on the open ocean, crewed by my men." He laced up the last few eyelets in his shirt, drew the laces together over his chest. He eyed her speculatively. "More the other way around. But I can see how it would be difficult for you to be cooped up in a small cabin. I will send Ulquiorra for you later, have him give you a tour of the ship. Would you like that?" He smiled as her eyes lit up and she clasped her hands together eagerly.
When he had left, she finished dressing herself, sliding back into the torn velvet gown. Ruefully shaking her head over the slit in the skirt, she resolved to ask for sewing materials at once. But what did it mean that he had been— well— stalking her for years? She frowned. There was much more going on that it seemed on the surface.
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There was a tap at the door and Orihime opened it to see the slender, black-haired man with brilliant green eyes waiting for her, his face expressionless. "Lord Aizen ordered me to show you around the ship. Are you ready?"
She nodded happily. "Oh, yes… Ulquiorra, is it?"
The only answer was a curt nod as he turned to go. She closed the cabin door behind her and scurried to catch up, stumbling only slightly on the pitching floor. The corridors were narrow and low, but paneled in beautiful woods, and Orihime marveled at the evident craftsmanship that had gone into building the ship. Ulquiorra was mounting a set of narrow stairs. Orihime grasped the railing firmly as she ascended. It wouldn't do to survive a kidnapping only to break her neck falling down a staircase. Her heart lifted as Ulquiorra opened a hatch and she saw her first open sunlight and took her first breath of fresh sea air in what seemed like years.
Emerging on deck, she stared around her in delight. Unlike what she had always heard of pirate ships being dirty, smelly, and decrepit, the lines of the ship were beautiful, and everything was clean and trim, from the highly polished wooden deck, to the ropes coiled in precise loops, hanging on shining iron hooks. The sun glinted off the open sea all around them, and as she looked around, she sucked in her breath.
They were surrounded by hundreds of ships, as far as the eye could see. Aizen's fleet was more powerful than she had imagined. She felt her heart clench in fear for her family and her home.
The nearer ships were all flying the Las Noches flag with the reversed crescent moon. As she followed Ulquiorra over the deck, stumbling slightly with the motion of the ship, she wondered again what she could do to persuade Aizen out of his plans before it was too late.
Ulquiorra took her up on the forecastle, where one of the men was serving as a lookout and operating some type of communication equipment. Inside the forecastle was the galley, and Orihime's stomach rumbled at the smells coming out of it.
Back out on deck again, she saw Aizen standing with three other men. Her heart began to beat faster at the sight of him and she found herself walking toward him, Ulquiorra trailing behind. As she came closer, she saw that one of the sailors was a woman, a tall blonde wearing a white velvet shirt over tight black pants and high boots. She could not help a gasp of surprise. She did not know that women ever became pirates. One of the other men was burly but elderly with white hair and moustache and a heavily lined face. He was scowling at something Aizen was saying. The other man was young and slender and looked sleepy. He had shoulder-length wavy brown hair, light blue eyes, and a trim goatee. They all had wicked-looking cutlasses hanging at their belts. As she approached, Aizen placed an object within his shirt; she saw a glitter of blue between his fingers before it was hidden and he had turned to her with his unremitting courtesy.
"Good day, Orihime. Please let me introduce you to three of my captains, Tia Harribel, Barragan Luisenbarn, and Coyote Starrk." They turned and scrutinized her, Barragan scowling and Harribel stern, while Starrk yawned.
She dipped them a slight curtsey. "Pleased to meet you, sirs and madam."
None of them responded. After a moment, Aizen turned back to the others. "Very well. Do you each understand your orders?" He met each of their eyes in turn. "Excellent. I'll rendezvous with you at the agreed-upon time and place then. Good day."
As Orihime watched, the three climbed into a small rowboat that was hanging on ropes at the side of the ship. It was lowered on a winch down into the water, and Orihime watched as a sailor plied his oars, taking the three passengers in the direction of one of the nearby ships riding at anchor.
Aizen was giving orders in a low voice to another man on deck, who nodded crisply after a moment and then went aft. Then he turned to Orihime and offered her his arm with a polite smile. "Shall we take the noon meal, my dear?"
She stared at him a moment, then nodded and took his arm. At the feel of the warmth of his body, a curl of desire began to writhe in her core, and she found herself blushing. To keep her mind away from her shameful thoughts, she turned to Aizen and demanded, "What are you planning now? Where are those three captains going?"
He only smiled as they continued walking to an upper deck where she saw a table had been set with an elegant white linen tablecloth and gold dishes.
She gaped, astonished at the rich place settings on the table. "You certainly like to pamper yourself. Where did you get all this luxurious…?" She swept her hand in an encompassing gesture, vaguely indicating not only the elegant tableware but the entire ship around them.
Aizen smirked. "I stole it all, of course." Ulquiorra pulled out a chair for him and he sat down gracefully. "This ship was built for a king; fortunately, it was built to be fast and efficient as well as opulent. It has served me well." He ran a hand fondly over one of the polished teak railings.
Orihime decided she had better not ask what had happened to the previous owner. "Where are we going now?" she persisted.
"We leave the fleet today and sail to Las Noches. Perhaps you will be pleased to sight land after all this time?"
"Las Noches?" Orihime's voice faltered briefly at the name of the feared, legendary island. Ulquiorra stepped to the table with a bottle of wine wrapped in a white towel. He held it out to Aizen, who nodded; then he took out a corkscrew and began working away on the bottle.
Aizen's gaze was steady on Orihime. "Yes. You will see your new home, my dear. I hope you will be pleased with it."
Orihime's heart chilled. "Will you be leaving me alone there?" Then she cursed herself for saying it.
The brown-haired man's smile had widened. "While I must admit I'm quite delighted that you relish my company to such an extent, surely you don't want to accompany me while I perform all the vile activities required of a pirate?" Ulquiorra had finished uncorking the wine; he poured them each a glass.
"No, I—" Orihime felt confused as she so often did around Aizen. Then she stopped and got ahold of herself. "Required? None of your reprehensible behavior is required. You could have obtained power legally, through the council."
"Oh?" he responded, leaning back in his chair and regarding her. "I suppose you believe that speaking with Yamamoto in a calm and reasonable voice will be sufficient to make him into a strong and good leader for Seireitei?"
She glared at him. "But that's not what you want anyway," she retorted. "You want to overthrow him and become king yourself."
Aizen's smile was serene. His long fingers wrapped around the stem of his wineglass and he swirled the ruby liquid within before raising it to her. "Do you truly believe Yamamoto is the best ruler for Seireitei?"
"At least he is the legitimate ruler! If we don't follow our own laws everything will dissolve into chaos!"
He raised his eyebrows over his glass of wine as he sipped. Then a pleased sigh escaped his lips. "A heavenly vintage. Thank you, Ulquiorra." He turned back to Orihime. "Are you quite certain of that? I myself find that laws can be so limiting."
"Laws are what make our civilization the way it is!" She was almost too incensed to continue, choking on her own words. "Without them we are no better than barbarians."
His glance was dark now. "Indeed. I happen to believe our society is worth preserving. And as it happens, there is only one man who can hold it together and preserve it from a descent into barbarism. This vacancy at the top of our society is unbearable. I alone can fill that vacancy."
"You're so arrogant! You don't know that you're the best person possible for the job. You can't know."
"Ah, but I do know." He slanted a look of hauteur at her as he set his glass down. "I have studied our situation and our history for longer than you have been alive, my dear. As you must surely know, we have many enemies who covet our rich lands, our mineral resources and favorable position on the coast." His voice took on the tone of a lecturer as he placed his long fingers on his cheek and rested his elbow on the armrest of his chair. "Those enemies need to be kept at bay. Yamamoto has allowed our fleets to fall into disrepair."
"Well, then, you should be back home rebuilding, rather than pillaging and destroying our coast! My own domain had three villages burned by your pirates!" She was furious now. "So many people have died for your selfish ambitions! How dare you say you would make a better king!"
His glance was unreadable now, his eyes dark and fixed on hers. "Do not speak to me of ethics and selfishness, Orihime. You too could have been strengthening your fleet. But your advisors have buried themselves in trivial concerns over your upcoming marriage to Ichigo Kurosaki, ignoring more important considerations."
At the mention of Kurosaki's name, hot guilt flashed through Orihime, and in response she lashed out. "A marriage of state is an important concern! And what should it matter to you, considering you have destroyed my prospects! What is it, are you jealous?" Her eyes were narrowed and ferocious.
She expected him to get angry in response. Instead, at her words, he merely relaxed in his seat and rested his chin in his hand, his expression amused. "Ah yes. Now that I have marked you as mine, our societal mores consider you damaged goods and unsuitable for another's possession." Dark pleasure pooled in his eyes. "I happened to be stronger—and faster— than Lord Kurosaki, and so I won the prize." He raised his glass to her again in a toast, satisfaction gleaming in his gaze. "Victory is so gratifying."