(08/24/2012) This is the rewritten version. After I gained some writing experience I became more and more dissatisfied with the first chapter.

Beta: OveractiveImagination39

Disclaimer: Bleach and its characters belong to Tite Kubo. I am not making money with this story, it is only for fun, to keep my old brain exercised and to improve my English.

Cover: Drawn for me by KoltirasRip. Please take a look at the full size picture. Link is on my profile page.

Author's Notes: My native language is German and this is my first fan fiction written in English. The story reflects my love for historical tales and the Manga series Bleach. Though, the vocabulary and the wording I use, still is limited, in regards to many other writers, I nevertheless hope that reading this piece, might become an enjoyable journey for you.

Every chapter is revised and corrected by OveractiveImagination39, a good friend, who is a native English speaker and teacher. For the grammar and spelling errors we might have missed, I kindly apologize in advance.

Prologue

The Middle Ages were a dark and cruel time. Most things were just a mystery to the ordinary people and deeper knowledge of science, medicine and mathematics was only available for the members of the church, the noble and the ones who traveled far. Therefore, everything that could not be explained was either the work of God or the Devil. At least that was what the Christian church wanted everybody to believe. But no matter how hard they tried, the old beliefs died hard and so many people still had faith in the ancient gods; fairies, dwarfs and other creatures who were supposed to live secretly among them.

Each individual life, however, had little value, and those of the ordinary people were worth nothing at all. Those simple people who could not fight for themselves where happy when protected by a merciful, fair-minded lord. Yet most noble men only kept an eye on their own interests and the king, who better should have kept a watchful eye on them, ignored their quarrels and fights and did not interfere as long as homage and fealty were paid to him.

+o+o+

Chapter 1: The Prophecy

The orange light of the sunset made the endless sea of grass, which covered the plain as far as an eye could see, look like a wasteland. The absence of bushes and trees made it impossible for anyone to approach the impressive white castle, positioned within the center of the a small hill, unseen.

A slight breeze rushed across the blades of grass making them dance around in waves. It carried on it the scream of a woman in agony, disrupting the otherwise halcyon end of the day.

With a deep sigh the shepherd turned his gaze again towards the white castle in the distance, unable to ignore the screams that rang out for hours and hours. Then another short, high pitched cry followed and alerted the sheep to look up as well. However, after some moments of silence passed, they continued their browsing without any hesitation.

+o+o+

Henna brushed the strands of her sweat soaked hair out of her face and left her lady's privy chamber. Behind her the room and everybody in it was very quiet now. She shivered from exhaustion and rising fear. Her hands and clothes were covered with blood and the wind whistling though the open windows of the large antechamber was unable to remove the smell of it.

While her mother proudly had served the former lord as First Midwife, like her grandmother had done it before and she was doing it now, Henna no longer was able to feel honored by the heritage of this position.

For she had seen too much suffering and blood - today included – and she was unable to do anything to stop it, no matter how hard she tried. Nevertheless, she was also aware that with the death of every woman in her care, her own life was put at stake as well.

Carefully, Henna approached the tall man standing at a window across from her, "My Lord Aizen," she said, trying the best she could to hide the fact that her voice was trembling with growing fear. "I am deeply sorry to inform you that our lady just died in childbirth."

Lord Aizen, the former lord's only child, recent ruler of the country of Hueco Mundo and builder of Las Noches castle, did not move. He continued looking out of the window, with his hands folded behind his back. After a long, tense moment passed, without any change in his position, he asked, "And the child?"

Henna had prepared herself for this question but she still flinched at the sinister tone of the lord's voice and nervously began to wring the bloodstained fabric of her apron. She took several deep breaths to calm her racing heart, attempting to gather the courage to answer.

However, she never got the chance to speak. The man, she had called as last resort, and who had arrived only a moment before the lady's demise appeared right behind Henna. He shoved her to the side and announced with a snort, "The child is also dead. If you had called me earlier he might have survived."

Wearing an absurd pinkish turban on his head together with a white caftan, the sly man seemed rather out of place. Henna's eyes grew wide watching how he wiped the blood off his curved sword with a cloth. After rubbing it clean, he sheathed it back into the leather scabbard at his broad belt, with a trained motion.

She knew what he wanted to point out and gulped. "But by the Holy Lord," her voice was breathless, "Sir Szayel, to cut a child out of the womb of his living mother - this is something you couldn't honestly have desired to do! It is against the law of the church and our lord would never have allowed this!"

Henna pressed her hands tightly together and bit her lip as she stared desperately at Lord Aizen´s back, silently praying the unpredictable man would agree with her this time.

"I would have appreciated a living heir, first of all," he stated though, his voice chillingly composed.

Henna felt dizzy and shifted her gaze towards the floor, hands shaking. If the lord found her at fault, she surely would have to expect punishment.

However, Lord Aizen already seemed to have moved on and no longer considered the midwife worth his attention. "You are dismissed," he said, sounding tired. Before he returned to the spot by the window that he had occupied moments ago.

At first, Henna did not believe her ears and too surprised, was unable to move. Then, as understanding of her reprieve sunk in, she let out a relieved breath, made a deep curtsey and rushed out of the room. For the time being she was safe until Lord Aizen would impregnate another pitiful woman.

"So, it seems that once again the prophecy had proven itself true," Sir Szayel sounded a bit amused as he joined his lord by the window. They both remained quiet for some time, watching the last of the blood-red sun vanish beyond the horizon.

Sir Szayel finally broke the eerie silence and said, "Honestly, my lord should stop wasting time trying to impregnate such unworthy women. Why not choose a strong and healthy brat that is already born and claim him as your son? There are enough of them out there ...," still grinning, he made a wide gesture out of the window.

Lord Aizen narrowed his eyes and stared intently at his Eighth Knight, "As you well know, according to the prophecy, I will only be able to become King with a child that is fathered from my seed."

Sir Szayel gave no reply, he only observed how the other man started to walk around, well aware that Lord Aizen's mind drifted away once again.

This had been the third time his lord had lost his wife and unborn child in the period of three years. Rumors were also circulating that the lord had taken several maids, all of whom had died along with their babes during childbirth or some weeks before the child was even due to be born.

Certainly, Sir Szayel knew the prophecy as well as everyone else here. But he, who was a man of pure knowledge and did not believe in any kind of God, still could not comprehend how his lord could lower himself to actually believe the same as the silly and superstitious scum of the castle.

The prophecy itself was made long ago when Lord Aizen was very young. Hueco Mundo was but a small and poor country and the castle nothing more than an accumulation of some brick buildings. No one, at that time, especially Lord Aizen himself, believed in or cared for the words of the prophecy. The lord had been too busy conquering the countries that bordered his, filling up his treasure chamber with the captured plunder. His growing wealth then allowed him to build up a powerful army with ten unique knights to lead it.

In the years that followed, Aizen also managed to enlarge the country of Hueco Mundo to roughly ten times of its original size. He replaced the old buildings with a huge, many-towered white castle which he named Las Noches.

That was then, with all these achievements in place that he decided it was time to take a wife. Lord Aizen's choice had fallen upon the only child of an old lord who was tired of his duties and therefore was more than glad to accept Aizen's proposal, knowing it would bring the promise of security for his beloved daughter and his country.

She was a beautiful young woman, with a slender figure, black hair and blue eyes full of happiness. Furthermore, she was eager to fulfill her duty as Lord Aizen's wife and so her joy knew no bounds, when she realized, that she was with child shortly after their marriage. But right from the start, the poor woman felt terribly ill, and in contrast to most other women, she seemed to loose her shining beauty, the further her pregnancy proceeded. All the healers Aizen called, were at a loss as to what could be wrong with his wife. Even Sir Szayel, who called himself a proper physician and claimed to have studied medicine at the most advanced University of Ispahan, Persia, was not able to give a reliable diagnosis.

And on the day of her final breath, the only curve left on her otherwise skeletal body, was her belly in which her seven month old child died still within her.

At her funeral, it was a strange looking woman, who reminded Lord Aizen about the words of the prophecy, and that no one, not even the almighty Lord of Las Noches, would be able to escape the will of the ancient gods of this country.

No, Sir Szayel had not forgotten the ominous prophecy that lay heavily over the whole castle. Its words carved deeper with the death of every woman that had unsuccessfully tried to bear Lord Aizen's child.

Additionally during the last few months his lord's patience concerning this matter seemed to grow thinner, and he started assailing Sir Szayel with awkward questions about what could have caused the women's illness and their deaths. But he was not able to give his lord a proper and logical explanation. Even with all the medical experience and knowledge he had, he could not figure out what exactly had happened to the women. But still he believed that their fate could be just a mere coincidence, and if he would be allowed to examine their corpse properly, he still was sure he would be able to find the reason.

But Lord Aizen forbade him to do this.

To some extent the physician was able to understand the reason behind this decision. Under no circumstances did his lord want to alert neither the church nor the King of his true intentions, and therefore wanted to keep the façade of a noble man true and loyal to both parties as long as possible. This included the examination and opening of a dead body as well as to cut a child out of the womb of his living mother. But for whatever reason Lord Aizen decided not long ago to call for this witch, who lived not far from the castle, and question her about the origin of the prophecy. It was this action that gave Sir Szayel a cause to be slightly worried for his Lord's sanity

Lord Aizen stopped his wandering and gave his knight a thoughtful look.

"Szayel, as soon as Sir Starrk returns to Las Noches, tell him I want to speak with him about the ballad he heard recently about this particular woman."

"Yes, my lord, as you wish", Sir Szayel let out a deep sigh, bowed and left the room.

According to the prophecy only one woman would be able to carry a healthy child to term for Lord Aizen. That was the woman who caught the sunset in her hair and the starry night in her eyes.

+o+o+o+

The field of cherry trees behind the old and venerable castle was bathed in the soft orange light of the setting sun.

Between the trees, two young women stood side by side watching a butterfly playfully gliding around on the gentle breeze of a late spring day.

"Ah, what a halcyon end for a day", the shorter one of the two women announced while adjusting her veil. One side of the delicate piece of silk was about to fall out of her raven-black hair. Then she clapped her hands and smiled brightly to the auburn haired woman next to her. "Come on Orihime. Let's practice the wedding carola one more time, before we have to go back for the supper"

Orihime nodded and returned the smile, "Certainly, my Lady Rukia as you wish," she said, making a playful curtsey before she stepped aside to face the black haired women, leaving some space between them. Then both were holding out their arms to the sides, like they wanted to take the hands of other imaginary dancers.

Lady Rukia started singing in a well balanced, melodious voice,

"Come, come, my love,

I long for you,

I long for you,

Come, come, my love."

Orihime joined her at the second verse,

"Sweet rose-red lips,

Come and make me better,

Come and make me better, sweet rose-red lips."

Both clapped their hand, and started dancing around in a circle with small steps, alternated with some low jumps, singing the next verses together.

Orihime watched Rukia while they were dancing. They practiced the carola so often in the last days that Orihime knew every step by heart. The ends of the ribbons that decorated Lady Rukia's fashionable velvet grown moved gracefully around her petite figure. Her movements were full of elegance, her eyes full of determination and her cheeks covered with a light blush. But Orihime was sure this was not a result of their dancing. Rukia was without doubt thinking of Ichigo again, the twenty year old son of Orihime's foster father Master Isshin.

Recently Lord Byakuya, Rukia's older Brother, leader of the Kuchiki country, and heir of the venerable castle behind the cherry trees, had given his permission to Ichigo and allowed him to court his sister, Lady Rukia officially. Unofficially, a date for their wedding was also already set. It would take place on the next full moon after Midsummer.

Thinking of this made Orihime immediately feel a stitch of jealousy. Rukia had everything that she didn't. The lady was so confident, did all her tasks with such determination, and whenever she made a decision, she never faltered. Most of all Lady Rukia was the only one who owned Ichigo's heart; the heart that Orihime wished to be her own for quite some time now. It began when her brother had left for his journey to the orient, and then grew even stronger as her world had shattered shortly upon her brother's return, when illness had claimed his life. It was her love for Ichigo that helped her to withstand the pain and loneliness and carry on.

But the ungrateful feeling of jealousy never lasted for long. It rapidly turned into deep sorrow because Lady Rukia also happened to be Orihime's best friend. Tears were once again rising up in her eyes and she unconsciously stopped dancing, in an effort to suppress the crying.

Rukia terminated her movement as well, worried about her friend who seemed all of sudden to be overwhelmed by sadness. She approached Orihime who stood there, head low, so that her auburn hair was covering her face.

"Orihime, dear?" she asked touching the other woman's arm slightly, "Is something the matter?"

First Orihime gave no response, and then came a small sob and she looked to the lady with a faint smile, "It is nothing … I was just thinking about my brother," which was not a complete lie, but not quite the whole truth either.

Lady Rukia continued to study Orihime's face, but after a moment she gave her a knowing smile, "You really need not to worry about your future. My brother will allow me to take you as my companion. Be sure, there will be a lot of young men at our court as well as at the King's, which we will visit together as well." Rukia reached out to lift Orihime's chin softly with her hand, "You are so beautiful, no doubt you will touch every man there and easily find one with a good and loving heart."

Orihime gave her a look of disbelief. She never considered herself to be beautiful. Lady Rukia noticed Orihime's look and took a strand of her hair to hold it into the light of the setting sun. "Your hair looks like the sun itself had painted it, and your amazing eyes are like a cloudless sky in the night with stars shining in it."

Lady Rukia's speech was interrupted by the sound of the bells from the Kuchiki castle which where calling everybody to the evening prayer that took place before the supper.

The lady grabbed Orihime's hand excitedly and began to pull her towards the castle. "Let's hurry or we will be late."

"By the way," the lady said, as they walked through the field of cherry trees back to the castle, with an amusing voice, "Have you heard that there indeed is a ballad going around which praises you as the woman who caught the sunset in her hair and the starry night in her eyes."

Orihime blushed, which caused Lady Rukia to laugh. But the auburn haired woman's embarrassment didn't last long and she couldn't resist joining in, their laughter a joyous melody carried across the darkening sky.

Explanations:

Part of the contract between a lord/king and his vassal. The vassal was required to give the lord homage and fealty. This most often meant monetary and military support. It also pertained to special duties, like serving on the lord's court.

A scabbard is a sheath for holding a sword, knife, or other large blade. Scabbards have been made of many materials over the millennia, including leather, wood, and metals such as brass or steel.

The most documented form of dance during the Middle Ages is the carol also called the "carole" or "carola" and known from the 12th and 13th centuries in Western Europe in rural and court settings. It consisted of a group of dancers holding hands usually in a circle, with the dancers singing in a leader and refrain style while dancing.

Lyrics: Taken from the Carmina Burana. The title "Carmina Burana" literally means 'songs of Beuren' and was given by Johann Andreas Schmeller to his complete edition (1847) of the poems contained in an early 13th-century German manuscript (found in 1803) from the Benedictine abbey of Benediktbeuern, south of Munich in the Bavarian region.

A.N.: Even if the poems are supposed from the 13th-century, I took some parts of it to use here because I guess they could also be existed some time earlier.

Used part in this chapter: "Uf dem anger (On the Lawn) Song No. 9/ second verse, Reie (Round dance)"

A lady's companion is a woman of genteel birth who acted as a paid companion for women of rank or wealth.