(AN) Alright, here's the second installment of Dead Moon. There's going to be lemons and violence in later chapters. This is also not going to be a short work. Constructive feedback is always appreciated.

Chapter 2

Vellena had been fighting for hours at this point, but that didn't bother her much. She'd fought longer without rest under Arthas, and then again after joining the Ebon Blades. Her only issue at this point was that most of her opponents didn't last long to really entertain her. With her vampiric abilities, she could probably just keep going like this for hours. Runic power blazed from her – she never really got the opportunity to use it all before the intense battle fueled her further.

There had been a few opponents that had lasted satisfyingly long, but those didn't seem to be all that common, unfortunately. Whatever these creatures were, they just kept coming and coming, and were mostly brainless and weak. She'd had to avoid a few unexpected and strange abilities, but really, most of this was all in a day's work for a Death Knight, especially one as accomplished and well armed as Vellena. The few serious injuries she had taken had healed up as she hacked apart more of these endless enemies.

A strange feeling passed through her as she sensed something that felt kind of like a death gate, yet was still very very alien. Pausing for but a moment to look up towards it, she observed four figures stepping out of a hole in the sky. Then she had to get back to her grim work, but she kept part of her attention on the newcomers. She had no idea who or what they were, but she had the feeling that they were to the monsters she was fighting what she was to the average ghoul or skeleton.

After a minute or so, two of the figures took off the way she had come. A third floated gently to the ground nearby. Vellena kept fighting. Then she stopped. So did her opponents. The newcomer had started emitting a very noteworthy force. Some might even call it a terrifying aura, but Vellena had seen a lot of scary shit in her (un?)life. She didn't bat an eye. Not much could terrify a Death Knight. She'd helped hack Kel'Thuzad to pieces in his own fortress. She wouldn't flinch at this.

The other figure approached languidly, striding across the sands, a path opening up between them as monsters desperately shoved out of his way. Vellena could see that it looked mostly human, and male. Mostly, because he had a hole in his stomach and part of a mask on his jaw. And blue hair of a shade she had previously only seen on other night elves. His pale white skin and lack of pointy ears announced that he wasn't one of those either, and she didn't think he was a half-breed.

"Scram," he cocked his head at the monsters surrounding them, still blazing blue energy. To her mild surprise, the monsters immediately started heading out in any direction but near him… and her.

Vellena lowered the blade of her axe and pulled off her helmet, resisting the urge to lick blood off her gauntlet. The human raised a blue eyebrow at her. She shifted her stance, taking advantage of the brief respite to rest on her feet. On the whole she wasn't too concerned – the fact that he hadn't come in with blades swinging spoke for something. Either he was part of the Alliance, or he wasn't hostile.

He continued to advance, making no move to draw the sword she could plainly see he carried, though she had the feeling he'd gleefully battle her if she forced the issue. He walked forward with deadly grace, radiating power, then stopped a few yard in front of her. He was tall for a human, she realized. He was just an inch shy of her height – level if one counted his spiked blue hair, and that was rare in a human. She gazed at him unblinking in her best bored Death Knight stare.

"All right," he said, "What and who the hell are you, and how did you get to Hueco Mundo." It was more of a demand than a question. At least she could understand most of what he said, except for the Hueco Mundo bit, but it was clear he was referring to a place. This place.

"Death Knight Vellena Nightwind of the Ebon Blade," she began, "As to how I got here, I had a recall scroll failure. I am carrying a missive for my superior, and would like to know the best way to Dalaran from here."

His wild blue eyes fixed on her like she had started singing in Taurahe and doing a dwarven river dance.

She tried again. "I'm not one of the Lich King's, you can forget that. And I'm still a night elf – they tell me I was born in Darnassus. All I need right now is to get a portal to Dalaran, or any one of the Alliance cities, really, and be on my way." Behind them, the other figure had come in closer, still floating in the air. "I'm pretty sure I saw you guys come through some kind of portal. I have a few pieces of gold, if that's the problem." She finished, nodding towards the other guy.

----

Grimmjow wasn't quite sure what to make of the strange-looking female. It was clear she was not shinigami in the slightest, but nor was she human, not with those long, swept-back pointy ears, or the dusky purple shade of her skin, or the muted green of her hair. Or her impressive height – he'd never before been able to look a woman in the eye without having to tilt his head down. Glowing blue eyes gazed impassively at him, positioned among lightning-bolt markings the same colour as her hair. She was wearing heavy metal plate armour in which she appeared to move without impediment; though she and it were liberally coated in blood and gore. She obviously knew how to use her axe – she radiated deadly competency and an aura that was distinctly… deathly. He sensed power in her, enough to be of interest to Aizen for sure. And she might as well be spouting gibberish for all he understood of what she just said.

Oh, he understood most of her words, but he had no idea what a Death Knight, Ebon Blade, or night elf was (though he pieced together that's what she was, he wasn't stupid, thank-you-very-much). Nor did he know who the 'Lich King' was, or where Dalaran or Darnassus were, or what the hell 'alliance' she was talking about. It seemed pretty clear to him, though, that she hadn't intended to end up here.

"Vellena Nightwind." He said.

"Vellena." She stated. Her name was like that of westerners, like that of arrancar – with the personal name before the family name. He shrugged.

"I'm Grimmjow Jaegerjaques – Grimmjow works for me. Up there is Ulquiorra Cifer. I never heard of those places. You're in Hueco Mundo. The world of hollows." He stated. She blinked once, and otherwise gave no indication of a reaction.

Then she sighed and seemed to relax somewhat. "Well then, I guess this missive is going to be late, and there's nothing I can do about it. Maybe they'll consider me lost in battle, and have my funeral. Again." She said. He had the feeling that it passed for humor. Her voice was very strange, hollow and echoing, with a timbre like steel against steel.

"I've been ordered to bring you back to Las Noches. Are you going to make a fuss?" Grimmjow asked. "Did you bring anyone else with you when you came?" That ought to take care of duty. He'd be happy to fight her if she insisted, but he was actually pretty curious right now. Besides, she wasn't fresh, and he didn't want to measure himself against a fatigued, injured opponent. Was she injured? He didn't know how much of the blood covering her was her own.

The strange woman shrugged, sticky plate mail clanking. She swung her axe around to her back with ease, and hooked her macabre helmet to her belt loop. "Got nothing better to do." She said. "And it's just me."

Well then, time to go back to Las Noches. He waved Ulquiorra down, and the other Espada landed beside him. "We might as well get going, I'm sure Aizen will want to talk to her" he said to his companion, ignoring the woman – Vellena Nightwind's – calculating gaze on the other arrancar.

"Hn," said Ulquiorra, and gestured. A garganta gaped open. The night elf's attention was glued to the portal. He sensed no fear, merely curiosity.

"Just walk in it," the Sexto said to her. She nodded, and stepped forward.

Seconds later, they were in Las Noches. Ulquiorra had brought them to the detention block. Grimmjow figured it was as good an idea as any – until they knew who and what this person was, she remained a potential enemy. Even if she had come along pretty quietly, he'd seen the long, bloody trail she'd left in the sands, and witnessed her sending a pile of hollows off to their demise. The gods only knew exactly how many hollows she had killed out there. Not that he gave a shit about them, but it spoke of her competence at least.

He walked ahead of her to the door of one of the cells and opened it, gesturing towards it. She walked in without a word, and then stopped.

"I see." She said. What she saw, she didn't elaborate. Grimmjow figured he knew. He shrugged.

"Until we know who you are and what you represent here, these are the best accommodations we can offer you. Food and new clothing will be brought to you, as well as materials with which to clean your gear. Someone will be by to ask you questions sooner or later." He said. His tone was bored and none too concerned. She nodded.

"That is acceptable."

He closed the door behind her, the tall, heavy door shutting with an echoing clang.