Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.

AN: About this chapter:

Like previous chapters this is long.

A hint at Rukia's past with Ichigo

A couple conspiring comrades have a drink

Siblings go head to head as a big reveal is made

*All relationships here are a slow burn

Seducing Setesh

Chapter 4

The stars where the kings lived dotted the sky, the sea's breath yet warm and peppered with the scent of humanity spread about the port city. The sea itself was inky blackness, the tides lazy, the waves catching silvery moonbeams so one could not miss their movement, even from afar. White obelisks rose like beacons in the squares of the Greek quarter and along the Canopic Way, from the heights of the queen's terrace they were easy to spot. Light and sound did not ebb, even in these late hours; the city of Alexandria did not sleep.

With a deep inhale Rukia tasted the air and felt her lungs fill with a familiar fragrance- a scent that meant home. Her sandals had touched the earth here and rooted firmly. Even in her childhood she had felt distant, lost in the Republic of Seireitei despite her affection for its foremost citizens.

The Two Lands had welcomed her like a mother with open arms. She was content here- needed, wanted, and indeed loved. But that did not mean she had forgotten.

The torches light made his hair look like molten gold- that burnished orange-yellow that greedily drew the eye.

She had not expected to see him again so soon- in fact she had hoped to surreptitiously avoid him. It was a frivolous thought considering her position. It was inevitable that they would cross paths. She suspected that there would be many days of lingering in the Domino's presence and thus it would be impossible to avoid the other man, given his rank.

In any case her eyes followed him- sought him now that she had chanced upon him already.

The two men posted in the courtyard treated him with respectful ease. They laughed with him, but did not leave their posts alongside the columns at the entryway's steps. He himself paced sedately on the white sandstone walk before them, engaging them even as his eyes scanned the courtyard meticulously.

She could see that he had changed. As a young man he had been brooding, brusque at times. But once or twice he had shown her a kind, smiling face- youthful excitability- and she thought perhaps this side of himself had simply risen further to the surface.

He swaggered now, confidently, but with that straight-shouldered discipline of a soldier. Still his indulgent smirk seemed to come easily and his warm-toned chuckle passed his lips without hesitation.

Watching him from her place above, she was not convinced that he was wholly a stranger to her, despite the years.

Such dangerous and traitorous thoughts. She scolded herself.

Her eyes closed slowly, shuttering memories and emotions best left in the dark.

Her lips tugged downward then. She turned her head to look over her shoulder, past the lightly swaying curtains and into the dim chamber. There was no familiar scent of incense or glowing lantern light. The shrine had not been set for prayer.

"Where…" She whispered to herself. A foreboding feeling was crawling from the pit of her stomach into her chest. Somehow she knew that the buried pieces she had not wanted to unearth would be forced to the surface. And it was out of her hands.

The voices filtered out the doors, spilling onto the street like the hazy dark smoke of the oil lamps and the scents of grilled meat, baked bread, and beer.

The merchant shuffled past the crooked wooden doors and paused to look around the dim tavern.

He had laid aside his flamboyant robes, yet still he was eyed with curiosity, and veiled suspicion. The heavy dark gazes soon turned aside, none even lingering in question on the black cat that was draped over the man's shoulder.

With a smile the man reached back to scratch the cat's head. Briefly the creature nuzzled into his palm before she tossed her head, her golden eyes darting to the right.

In a corner near a small shrine to Bes, a dice game was in full swing, a rowdy group of men gathered in a circle, crouched on the dirt floor. Among this gathering, hulking over the slim Egyptian men, was a scruffy, dark haired foreigner. One wouldn't have guessed he was not born of the Two Lands considering how easily the Egyptian language rolled off his tongue, and his own swarthy complexion. But he was taller and broader than the others, who boasted clean-shaven heads and faces, and his kilt was woven of fine linen. Still he joked and cajoled them with familiarity, tossing back cups of heady dark beer like it was water.

The merchant's smile broadened and he signaled to the proprietress of the establishment before seating himself at a low wooden table.

…

A half hour passed by, and the merchant had drained his cup and eaten half a loaf of coarse bread. Finally a shadow fell over him and he looked up to see the foreigner standing across the table from him. He did not smile, but there was a warmth in his gaze that was unmistakable.

The merchant, a foreigner himself, nodded his head to the man and lightly gestured in invitation.

When the man was seated across from him, he helped himself to the pitcher on the table, the cup in his hand seemingly glued there.

The contents of the cup disappeared in a single gulp and when the man set his cup down finally he leaned forward on his elbows.

He grinned then, "Did the desert folk finally kick you out, old friend?" He kept his voice low, but his tone was jovial.

The blonde merchant cracked a lopsided smile and scratched beneath the pileus atop his head, "What with the tribal wars and the supplies running low we couldn't possibly continue to impose."

His companion gave a laugh and wrapped his knuckles on the table before leaning in again, "Of course, of course. And I'm sure you were given the divine go-ahead." He nodded then in the direction of the sleek cat whose golden eyes belied the fact that she was absorbing every word.

The merchant bobbed his head in answer. His grey eyes were shadowed as he glanced down at the table a moment before he looked up at the other man, "It was time, Isshin. It is time."

Isshin's brown eyes grew serious then and he tipped his head back to scratch at his neck in a thoughtful rhythm.

A moment passed and the sound of multiple conversations flooded in to saturate the quiet between them.

Isshin finally met his friend's gaze and smiled, "Seems overdue… I've missed the girl."

The merchant gave a smile in answer and filled his glass half way before looking up expectantly.

"So…she's settling well, then?" His friend folded his arms over his chest comfortably.

"I imagine she will find her place soon enough… Though what with her connection to our visitors I can't help but think she will be somewhat distracted…" Urahara raised a brow.

"Aa, only natural… But she's strong-willed enough. I fully believe she'll uphold her pledge…" Isshin's voice lowered towards the end.

"Mm," Urahara swallowed the thick mead in his mouth and nodded, "Oh yes. I have the utmost faith in her."

"Yes, yes…" Isshin beamed confidently, "And… my son?"

An understanding smile tugged at the merchant's lips as he looked down into his clay cup, "Here, my friend. It's hard to miss that hair in a sea of brunettes on the docks."

The man chuckled at this, a look of nostalgia passing his features, "Indeed… He is his mother's son." He picked up his cup, but did not drink, staring at it as he questioned quietly, "And what's become of him?"

"Oh, he's risen without prejudice as you predicted… A bit of a lady's man, if hearsay is true…"

One brow lifted smugly as Isshin shrugged spreading his hands.

"But by all accounts dependable, loyal, and quite strong… A good man to have on your side." Urahara continued.

"Good, good…" Isshin agreed heartily. He stroked his chin then, giving his associate a poignant look, "She'll need him."

"Yes." Urahara agreed, noting the cat's purr signaling her concurrence as well.

"And what of the Domino… Has he grown so fearsome?"

"He's certainly shrewd. And his eyes… they seem to capture everything. But you knew him when he was young and rising- I can only imagine what made him a fellow of interest then has expanded these years past. It's undeniable that he's a favored man- his accomplishments speak for themselves."

Isshin's eyes narrowed in thought as he nodded, "The gods are with him."

"It would appear so…" The merchant admitted, chuckling when what sounded like a derisive snort coming from the cat, hit his ears.

The cat flicked her tail at her perch's cheek in irritation before dropping down to sit in his lap.

"What have you deduced?" Isshin asked before knocking back his cup.

It was the merchant's turn to press toward the table, propping up his elbows a closed fan now between his two hands. "There can be several outcomes… But I gather that a battle is on the horizon and it will be of the bitter and brutal variety… We will either come out of it scathed, but alive and ready to claim the Two Lands once more… Or the crocodiles await us."

Silence pervaded between them, the noise around them a dull hum in the background.

"That's the spirit!" Isshin boomed, slamming his palm down on the table with an unconcerned grin. He raised his hand in the air, calling, "Nofret! Another pitcher!"

Her own heartbeat seemed to echo back to her in the narrow passage of stone. In the enclosing darkness it might be terrifying. But she kept a steady pace, knowing the twists and turns, how each route corresponded to a place in the palace she knew by heart. When she was near enough, her footsteps slowed, dread pooling in her veins so that the flow of blood felt sluggish- as reluctant as she was.

A few steps away was the sealed hidden door into the per'aa's chambers- a place she hadn't been since threat had forced her into her current position. The passage felt muggy and she swallowed a gulp of stale, thick air. She shuffled forward, hand reaching out blindly for the seam in the wall. She traced the indent and then let her hand trail down to where the knotted lock would be.

She cursed through her teeth feeling the trailing ends of the undone rope. She closed her eyes, shaking her head, anger clenching her jaw.

Still, though she was naturally incensed, she felt a certain amount of self-deprecation. I knew she would at some point soon attempt to seek him out- test the waters so to speak. She's better at the game of words than I am, but diplomacy is still a stretch for her… Oh gods, how troublesome!

Her eyes shot open in determination then and she took a breath.

Rukia put her ear near the door and listened to the murmur of two familiar voices… And then finally the debate escalated and it was time to intervene.

"She is a sacred priestess; she serves Eset. I'll ask you to unhand her, Domino."

When Domino Kuchiki turned toward her, one hand was still at the other woman's throat and the other was clasped around his sword's sheath, thumb on the guard so that a sliver of silver shone. Surprise quickly fled his features as though the emotion had never alighted.

"Rukia." He kept any thought veiled as he stared at her.

Biting back the sharp words on her tongue she took a breath and stepped further into the room edging toward the end of the table. She was placing distance between them, her hand casually placed on the hilt of the curved long blade at her hip.

"Whether she is or is not the daughter of Eset, she is still favored and it is truly unreasonable of you to treat her so callously…" Rukia lifted her chin, gaze as steady and unfeeling as that of the man she faced, "Now please… Release my lady."

Grey eyes intensified, darkened as the lord considered. He too lifted his chin and though his let his blade slide home, he did not loosen his hold on the woman pinned to the wall. "I will capitulate on one condition… That we dispense with the falsehoods. You should both be aware that taking me for a fool is an unwise risk."

Rukia helplessly stiffened, her teeth grinding against one another, her eyes momentarily flicking away to meet the green orbs of the man's temporary hostage. The Domino did not miss this and his eyes narrowed a fraction as his thumb traced an idle pattern on the woman's jugular.

Voice low in barely tamed agitation Rukia again held the domino's steel gaze, "What falsehoods do you refer to, Domino?"

"I believe you know." He replied.

Lips pulling back slightly in a silent snarl, Rukia clenched her fists, feeling the handle of her sword indenting into her palm. Her breath was unsteady as she exhaled audibly, nodding slowly, "Release her. And we will talk… frankly."

Despite her words she wanted to draw- she ached to draw and cross blades with this man. She steeled herself against the urge to initiate a fight in hopes of distracting him, but only barely. An outburst would not stop this man in his line of questioning. His single-minded focus couldn't be broken by her temper.

Damnit... I knew you'd catch on- just didn't think you'd be so quick... Still...Why? Why should I have to look at your face? Why should I have to speak reassurances to you? Her thoughts were roiling, but she took her hand from her weapon.

The simmering anger was bright in the deep lavender depths of the young woman's eyes, and even he, Domino Kuchiki, felt the heat of it.

Have I scarred your heart so much? Is that hate I see?

Finally he gave a single nod and without a glance at his captive he relinquished his hold, turning into the room to fully face the younger woman who now stood on the other side of the table.

But the woman at his back hissed and spat something in a tongue he had not studied, but recognized as the ancient language of Khemet.

Rukia nearly flinched, but she instead shook her head and quickly responded.

After that the green-eyed woman held her tongue, but her gaze was contemptuous and the Domino felt it at his back.

Regal and cold, Domino Kuchiki insisted, "Send her away. I would hear it from you alone."

Amethyst eyes flashed, but before Rukia could speak the other woman interjected, "No! I will not leave. You've no authority over me!"

But Rukia raised her chin and in that one gesture the woman was defeated. Still she looked away from the other woman only to bare her teeth at the Seireiteian Lord before disappearing through the passage.

As the stone slid into place the quiet settled around the two remaining and both were reminded of how long it had been since last they spoke one-on-one.

Finally Byakuya turned toward the table once more. With a light gesture he invited her to sit, but she only shook her head once, refusing. He breathed a quiet sigh through his nose, but seated himself at the table, settling his sword in front of him on its surface.

Rukia found herself captured by the golden gleam of the sword's hilt, her eyes recognizing the figure of the Goddess of Victory, knowing too well that on the other side Venus held an apple in her palm.

Once that sword had seemed magical- a weapon forged by the gods and bestowed upon one of their favored children. She'd seen her brother as no less than a god once…

She folded her hands in front of her, arms at her sides; it was as nonthreatening a stance as she could manage even with her shoulders thrown back imposingly. Emotion hidden away she awaited him.

His eyes were dark granite as he met her eyes, too schooled to give any of his own thoughts away.

Finally he asked in a voice pitched purposely quiet, "Who is that woman? And what grudge does she bear against me?"

Briefly did the young woman hesitate, it almost went unnoticed by him. "She is as I said. A priestess… A woman who I recognize as a loyal companion. And as I made mention she is favored; her blood is royal."

There was a slight tick in the domino's jaw and his eyes narrowed shrewdly, "But she is no queen."

"She might have been," Rukia's control slipped, her voice waspish, echoing sharply in the chamber. After a breath she had regained herself, falling back into the toneless quality he found unsettling. "Had the circumstances been different… She boasts the blood of the last true per'aas of the Two Lands… Just as her cousin, Queen Cleopatra." Her voice did not waver and she was grateful for the fact.

The taciturn grey eyes fell from her face then only to trace the cup he'd abandoned on the table. As I thought. My spies have been lax- to not have known that power had shifted into other hands…

"The queen's sister?"

"Inexperienced," Rukia immediately countered, "And very much under Ptolemy's sway."

His teeth ground against each other, a habit he could not always forestall. When he looked up he was the picture of austere control. "Then Ptolemy's men have it right. He is the only one with claim to the throne."

"In his advisors eyes perhaps. But Queen Cleopatra's voice still holds weight." Rukia felt her fingers straining against one another.

"Where is she?" His voice had grown quiet again.

Her hands trembled now and she was forced to look away, eyes darting to the ceiling as a clenching ache she was well acquainted with settled into her stomach. She knew he could see each breath she took now, her chest rising and falling as she struggled to overcome the wash of feeling threatening to drown her.

Without warning she pulled out a chair on the left side of the table, this far less elaborate than the throne-like chair the domino occupied. She sat down on the edge of the seat and her eyes searched the whorls in the polished wood of the table's surface. The tension in her limbs did not keep her from holding herself up, her spine straight.

"This is the second exile… The first- when Ptolemy and his council attempted their coup- was… bloody. They had warning of our flight and my lady's men were engaged before we could even make it half-way to the water steps- our means of escape. I was armed to the teeth- at my lady's side- yet somehow… I forgot my shield- a foolish- inexcusable error. Archers had laid in wait upon the roof off the royal chambers and while the queen's guard covered us from the worst of the onslaught- when Ptolemy's men came at us in the courtyard- they had to engage…"

She paused, breathing heavily through her nose. Unconsciously she had shut her eyes.

The heat of the day still singed the air, amplifying the scent of blood- mingled with the fruit trees and flowers until the fragrance was sickly sweet.

The woman opened her eyes forcefully, recalling the man who would not feign to overlook her weakness.

Her eyes were darkly shadowed, but her voice was steady, "Queen Cleopatra was struck by an arrow. We managed to flee with her highness, but she died of fever ten days later… Sanura is- was her handmaiden and childhood friend… Her loyalty is to me now and it was on my orders that she acted as the late queen. So yes… You see, the true queen… her body is dead, yet in me she lives."

As though he had not heard her last words Byakuya frowned dwelling on the semantics, "That woman… Sanura… Does she not have a claim?"

Rukia stared at him a moment before she gave a nod, "She would… If she were not so clearly of native descent… And her relation to the Ptolemies is somewhat distant." Surely he will dwell upon the hypocrisy- the prejudices that still plague us here…

"She is bitter because Seireitei has helped keep the dynasty in power?" He lifted a brow at this.

For a moment a scowl dawned on the young woman's face before she turned her gaze aside,"… As for her… feeling toward Seireitei- it is not my place to speak of her… losses."

"Hn." Was the noncommittal reply and Rukia found her face twisting again as this sound pinched at her nerves.

A sea breeze ghosted in and the guttering of the lamps became the only stirring for several moments.

Rukia found herself scanning the familiar walls, the glow of golden light illuminating the painted scenes of the Nile. If she closed her eyes she could see the green and brown reeds bending, the river flowing lazily, laughter echoing from its rich dark banks.

"What hand do you play in this, Rukia? Queen Cleopatra, from what I understand, was a woman of some vision…" He left the thought open, knowing she would elaborate.

Rukia blinked once before she answered, "I am only here by her grace… I could never deny her last request…"

"She named you her successor." He said without preamble.

The lines of the young woman's face seemed to change as he watched her; she grew older- sturdier- a woman of consequence.

Her nod was regal as she replied, "Yes. And the court and ministers acknowledged it- all but a few."

"Why? You are of foreign blood to these people."

Rukia braced herself a moment against these words. She'd long ago dealt with her insecurity of being a stranger in a strange land yet there was always the fire to prove herself worthy.

"The queen's people were descendants of the first Ptolemy, general under Alexander- a foreigner who emancipated this land and was welcomed as he embraced its heritage. Pure bloodlines are much a thing of the past… Even my lady could not claim full Macedonian descent…"

"Though not of this land you've more pure blood than most. The blood of kings." He agreed, pride languishing in his tone.

"Yes. Thus why most are willing to accept the queen's final wishes. And they… believe I will have significant influence where it counts." She admitted.

Byakuya smirked briefly at this, but made no comment.

Rukia took a breath, "But Ptolemy's council are not of like mind. They contest Cleopatra's will and continue to name Ptolemy sole ruler… I believe they were hoping to gain your support in this, which is why they so foolishly deceived my uncle- invited him to the palace only to…"

In the silence Byakuya's leather gloves creaked as his hands formed fists. Finally, with a growl he assured, "They will answer for such duplicitousness in time. But for now… What are your intentions, Rukia?"

"I intend to claim the throne."

The room rang with those words and then grew very still.

Breaking free of the stirring feeling his sister's declaration had caused Byakuya responded astutely, "Then you shall."

Her lips parted helplessly, eyes unveiling surprise.

"Did you think I would not support you?" He asked, looking away.

He heard her take a breath before confessing, "That is why I placed Sanura before you… If you believed she was Queen Cleopatra, then I had no doubt she would find a way to garner your backing."

Mulling over this, the Kuchiki Lord found himself frustrated by her lack of faith, yet he knew her reasoning had been sound. He had not trusted her judgment years before and it would seem she remembered this.

He kept his expression free of the bitter emotion that welled within him and rose to his feet. His boots made the softest sound on the marble as he began a pattern of steps between the table and the couches lining the sitting area.

"It is not practical to continue this ruse. You must stand firm before the men that oppose you." He decided.

Rukia gave him a suspicious look then, "Do you think that wise? Once rumor reaches the Seireitei that… your sister has gained the throne of a foreign land they will speculate about your own ambitions, Domino."

He came up short in his pacing. A hard telling glint lit the Domino's eyes and she knew the calculating look despite their years apart.

Byakuya scoffed and continued his circuit, "The Senate already has its doubts about me. Besides some might argue that it is in the Seireitei's best interests to have one of our noble blood on the throne of a land known for its internal feuds."

Sapphire orbs narrowed further, in her mind railing against his assertion- that smug confidence that put her ill at ease. But he turned toward her with a knowing look and she kept silent.

"You've been here a long time, Rukia… I trust you have thrived here." There was something within his eyes that the young woman could not pinpoint- some feeling that she couldn't recognize as she might have once.

He cleared his throat gently, clasping his hands behind his back as he gave her a nod, "It might be necessary to keep up pretenses for a few days more… I wish to be prepared for the backlash."

A rueful half smile came and went on Rukia's face, "We are much used to struggle."

The seasoned captain searched her features before saying, "Let us meet again tomorrow. We will conclude our plans then."

With that easy air of authority he had noted surrounding her, the young woman- on the verge of being queen lifted her chin, "Sanura is prepared to keep up with appearances and in the meantime formulating a strategy will be to our benefit… I'll take my leave and meet with you on the morrow, Domino."

She studied him for a moment more as she rose to her feet. The cloak about her shoulders snapped in the breeze of her making as she exited through the secret door without another word.

A hollow feeling crept up on him in the encroaching silence and Byakuya swallowed as he surveyed the shadows pensively.

As he sat back down in his abandoned chair, weight settled on his shoulders once more.

Kuchiki Rukia… I could never have imagined how far you've truly come.

This mysterious land, home to superstition and secrets had become more than just a far-flung province whose tribute was bountiful. Suddenly the whole world seemed to dwell in Alexandria. His interests in this country had been mild at best, yet now the fight he had anticipated had taken on new dimensions.

The coming clash would determine the rule of Egypt. If he won he would be handing his only sister a crown. If he should lose…

The entire empire he had been building would undoubtedly crumble. If he sailed away now he might avoid a battle he, as First Citizen of Seireitei, had no business fighting. But to abandon Rukia…

No. He had done so once before and his honor could not withstand such intentional callousness.

Byakuya Kuchiki would make his sister queen, or die trying.

Next Chapter:

Rukia further beguiles Ichigo in her guise as a guard.

Isshin returns to the palace and reunites with his son.

Byakuya makes a surprising decision.

AN: Again slow burn on the relationships, but now that the cat's out of the bag (to a degree) not only will more characters appear, but you'll see backstory and progression of the pairings.

Thanks!