Title: See the Sun

Author: codegal

Rating: T (for now).

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.

Summary: With his clan decimated at a young age, Ichigo vows for revenge and commits his life to hunting down the three men responsible for the downfall of his entire family. As Ichigo assumes the role of Laird for the small and redeveloping Kurosaki clan, he embarks on his quest for revenge, the bastard Laird Inoue in his sights as his first target. But Ichigo's plan for vengeance is thrown into a loop when he finds that the Laird's only surviving relative is Orihime, an innocent lady who's beauty affects him more than he's willing to admit. Can he hold her accountable for the sins of her father? And can he get to the other two traitor Lairds before they destroy his family a second time?

Author's Notes: LOL, I seem to be creating new projects to work on all the time without even finishing any previous ones. I'll try to complete at least one before the year is over. Anyway, in regards to this fic, you may notice that I kept the Bleach Japanese names, I couldn't think of suitable Scottish names for them to adopt and quite frankly, I was just too lazy to think up some. XD Regardless, I hope you all enjoy.

ETA: This fic is largely influenced by my favourite writer, Julie Garwood.

And before anyone asks, yes, I stole the title of my fic from yet another aussie artist. It's an album and song title's of Pete Murray. : D

Word Count: 4134.

…

Prologue

They were after them.

Three shadowed figures moved quickly through the thick foliage of the forest, the pursuers close on their tails. The sudden swoosh of an arrow flying had the three figures diving, rolling and gaining their feet again, their heavy breathing filling the midnight air as they continued to run. The cries of the wildlife arose as they were disturbed, the shadowed figures continuing through the forest, finally clearing it and reaching the Kisuke border.

The sighting of the sentries posted along the ramparts of the keep had the pursuers coming to a stop at the forest line, not willing to expose themselves just yet to Kisuke followers. One sighted down the arrow, aiming at one of the retreating figures. He let loose of the arrow, and watched with satisfaction as one of the figures cried out, falling to the ground. As the sentries shouted out the alarm, the group of pursuers turned quickly and vanished into the night.

Moments later, the three figures were surrounded by the men of the Kisuke clan, swords drawn, the Laird himself moving through the crowd of followers to kneel beside the fallen boy and his two comrades.

"Ichigo Kurosaki, what brings you here?" He turned to his second in command, "fetch for Tessai immediately."

Gasping for breath, the young lad reached for his father's long time ally. "Dead... help...avenge..."

Eyes widening, Urahara raised a fist in an unspoken command, his men tensing and readying for his next command. "Who?"

Ichigo shook his head. "Traitor."

Urahara clenched his teeth before turning away from the trio and instructing his men to ready their horses to ride out to the Kurosaki holding. Tessai arrived at that moment, his plaid tied haphazardly as he knelt by Ichigo's side. He quickly assessed the situation, frowning at the arrow that protruded from his shoulder before moving quickly to lift the boy into his arms. "He'll live, mi'lord."

Urahara grinned. "I had no doubt of that. He's always been a wily boy. Take care of him while I'm gone, Tessai."

Both turned and headed in opposite directions, Urahara to the stables and Tessai back to the keep, with Ichigo's two friends following in his wake, casting worried glances at him. Tessai led them through the stone building to a room with shelves lined with books, various herbs and other instruments decorating the tables and a few beds lined up against the wall. He gently lay Ichigo down on one of the vacant beds and grabbed a few jars, towels and bowls of water, placing them on a table beside him as he went to work on Ichigo.

Not a word was said as Tessai administered to Ichigo's wounds, and fatigue eventually won the upper hand, the three friends resting in the beds as Tessai watched over them. The thunderous pounding of the horses' hooves jerked Ichigo awake. Sluggishly, he tried to sit up, and had to muffle a shout as burning pain radiated from his shoulder. Panting, he managed to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed. His two companions were still asleep, and Ichigo crept through the room and silently made his way out to the hall, finding a somber looking Urahara and Lady Kisuke standing before the hearth. He spoke softly. "Laird?"

Both turned and looked at the boy, Lady Kisuke making a small sound of sympathy as she moved forward to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. Urahara swallowed thickly before answering, "I'm sorry Ichigo, but there was nothing we could do. Someone had started a fire and everything had been burnt to the ground. There's nothing left of the Kurosaki clan."

…

Chapter One

"A weak man has doubts before a decision. A strong man has them afterwards" – Carl Kraus.

Lady Orihime closed her eyes, hoping that the vision before her would disappear, but when she opened them, they were still there, standing in her courtyard.

Her old maid stood beside her, clutching at the curtain nervously as they both stared out the window at the courtyard below. "Demons, the lot of them, mi'lady. What brings them here?"

"I have not a single clue, Elspeth. And it's not nice to call people names, it is most unfair."

Her old maid snorted. "From the looks of them, I doubt they have come to share the nooning meal."

A sudden knock at the door had them turning, her steward Roger bowing slightly before addressing her. "Mi'lady, they request that you see them in the courtyard at once."

"What could they possibly want with you, mi'lady? Please stay, I fear that you will be heading to your doom."

"Honestly, Elspeth. Some times you can just think the worst of people."

She exited the room and headed down the stairs, through the great hall and out the front entrance onto the footsteps. She came to a dead stop when she saw them.

They were huge.

Dear Lord, how could men grow so big? She didn't think that the top of her head quite reached their shoulders, and all had a menacing air about them, their faces grim and streaked with blue paint. They were Scotsmen, no doubt about it, ones that particularly held true to their ancestors way of dressing primitively in their plaids, with all four of their knees quite bare beneath.

Orihime wrenched her eyes away from their muscular knees, not wanting to be impolite, choosing to focus on their faces instead. She took a few steps forward until she was only a foot away from them and clasped her hands behind her back. She tried to smile serenely, not wanting to show how intimidated she was by them. When none of the men showed any reaction, she focused on the one in the middle, giving a curtsy. "Good day, mi'lords."

He smiled at her but otherwise stayed silent. She paused, remembering that they were Scotsmen and should probably speak to them in their language. She cleared her throat and spoke again in Gaelic. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

The man she had been speaking to gave a look of surprise before grinning, the others grunting in what she thought was approval. "Are you Lady Orihime?" His brogue was thick, the dialect slightly different from what she had been taught, but she understood him well enough.

She nodded. "Yes, I am."

They stared at her wide-eyed, and she forced herself not to squirm under their intense gaze. The man she had spoken to muttered something under his breath about her being "bonny", not that she quite understood what it was that he meant by that. He cleared his throat. "We have come to fetch you, mi'lady."

She frowned. "I beg your pardon, I don't believe I heard you correctly the first time. Did you say you have came to fetch me?"

"Aye, lass. We are Kurosaki men, and our laird has ordered us to escort his bride-to-be to the highlands."

Orihime's mouth dropped open as she stared in shock at the men. She kept waiting for them to laugh and admit to a terrible jest, but they continued to stare patiently back at her, their faces utterly serious. She spluttered a few times before finding her words. "Dear Lord, you cannot be serious. I don't even know who this Kurosaki person is, much less who you all are."

The man who she had been addressing spoke up again. "I would be honoured if you called me by my name, Shinji, mi'lady."

"Shinji, surely this strikes you as something quite odd. Perfect strangers turning up on my doorstep insisting I marry their leader? It is preposterous."

"Not completely, mi'lady, especially if you consider the circumstances."

"Explain these circumstances to me."

"There is… unfinished business between your laird and your father, mi'lady."

At the mention of her father, Orihime's mouth dropped open, and she hurried over to the warrior's side, clutching at his arm. "My father? You know my father, Shinji?"

"Aye," he replied, before turning and spitting on the ground. She noticed that the other three men had followed suit in action, and she frowned at their show of disrespect.

"If you have news of my father, please do not keep me in suspense. I would greatly wish to get in contact with him."

"Why would you be wanting to do that, mi'lady?"

"You will think me silly."

"I would never allow myself the dishonour."

Orihime gave a small smile before looking down, noticing for the first time that she was clutching the fabric of his plaid in one hand. Hastily, she let go, clasping her hands together. "My brother, Sora, died a year ago and I am quite alone in the world. I very much would like to live with my family again."

Shinji watched his future mistress bemusedly, the wistful note in her voice hard to miss. For someone who was supposed to be the daughter of a bastard, she certainly wasn't living up to any of their expectations

Whatever pleasure he had gained with his laird's plan to lure the bastard Inoue out of hiding by using his daughter as bait was gone at the earnest expression on her face. Her brown eyes shone with unshed tears as she waited eagerly for him to continue and for some reason, he didn't want to be the one to spoil her enthusiasm.

He looked away from the bonny lass, focusing his gaze beyond her. "Your laird would know more than I on this matter."

Orihime bit her lip as she thought about the situation at hand. "Suppose I follow you back to Scotland—"

"Highlands, lass," a second man with a shock of white hair stated bluntly, a fierce scowl on his face.

Orihime was quick to apologise and thanked him for his instruction. He grunted before looking away, stating gruffly that his name was Kensei. She smiled at him before continuing. "Suppose I follow you back to the Highlands. Would I perchance get to meet my father?"

The men shared a look before turning back to Orihime, Shinji answering her question hesitatingly. "It is possible, mi'lady. Best that you come with us and find out."

Orihime nodded, her heart pounding with excitement at the prospect of finally meeting her father. For as long as she could remember, her brother Sora had shared with her stories of the man she had never known, telling her time and time again that he was busy with important work but would one day come back. It seemed that the day was almost at hand, and Orihime wondered nervously if he would like her, before pushing away the unkind thought. She was his daughter; of course he would like her, wouldn't he?

She smiled again at the men before a thought popped into her head, and she rushed to qualify her position with them. "By no means do I intend to marry your laird. I simply would like to meet my father."

"He's made up his mind on this," Shinji informed her, a smile on his face.

"And we've been given the honour of protecting mi'lady until we can hand her to Kurosaki," another man with blonde, wavy hair added before introducing himself as Rose.

"And if I refuse?" Orihime asked, folding her arms in front of her. "I can't possibly marry a stranger, much less someone I don't love."

"What does love have to do with anything?" Kensei asked frowningly.

Orihime blushed, wishing not for the first time that she wouldn't blurt out the things that came to mind so easily. "Do not mind me, I am merely being fanciful." She hurriedly moved to change the topic.

"If you would follow me to the great hall, I can arrange for cook to bring you all something to eat."

The men shook their heads before Shinji spoke up. "It's best if we leave straight away, mi'lady. We have a long journey ahead of us."

"Immediately? B-but that is impossible, there is much to do before we leave. I need to pack as well as settle the affairs of the manor before I leave. Please give me a few days to prepare."

"It is not exactly wise, mi'lady."

"Please," Orihime pleaded.

Shinji grimaced. "Then we shall stay in England with you, mi'lady until a time that you would be ready to travel with us home."

"It would probably kill me to breathe the same air as an Englishman," muttered a black haired man, tufts of his hair sticking up at all different angles from each other. The other three grunted in reply.

A horrified expression covered Orihime's face as she stared wide-eyed at the man who spoke. The men grinned, finding her reactions quite refreshing, their mistress certainly not at all what they had assumed. "Quit teasing mi'lady, Love."

It was at that moment that Kensei gave a low whistle, and all four men stepped forward, fierce scowls covering their faces, the jovial atmosphere evaporated. Orihime frowned in confusion and tried to look behind her but was grabbed by Shinji and pushed behind his back. Immediately, Kensei and Love flanked her sides with Rose standing behind her. She couldn't see over Shinji's shoulder. "What is it? What is going on?"

"We won't do anything unless they attack us, mi'lady." Shinji answered.

"Who is it?"

At that moment, Orihime could hear Roger calling out to her. "Are you alright, mi'lady? Get away from her, you filthy Scots. How dare you touch Lady Orihime?"

Kensei grinned in anticipation and began to massage his fists. "What do you know? Looks like we'll be getting some action after all, Shinji."

Orihime's heart started to beat frantically, a battle seemingly imminent on her hands. "No, you cannot hurt them!" she shouted.

The men looked downcast at her words. "We can't?" Kensei asked, frowning.

Orihime frowned back at him. "You will not hurt any of these men here. We have never had any fighting here and you will certainly not cause any today."

"We will not attack them, but if they continue to wave their swords at us, we're going to have to take them aside and discuss this insult."

"I will speak to them." She moved to step aside, but found that the men would not move. "I cannot speak to them unless you move out of my way, Shinji."

"I cannot allow for you to be put in harms way, mi'lady."

"I will not be in harms way. Roger and the men-in-arms have served my brother faithfully since I was young."

Shinji shifted slightly to the side. "You may speak to them from here."

Orihime prayed for patience and turned her attention to Roger and the men at arms. "I am quite alright, Roger. I am simply having words with our guests today."

"What do the pigs want with you, mi'lady?"

"There's only so much a man can take," Kensei muttered, shifting restlessly. Orihime was quick to answer.

"Nothing of your concern. And do have a care with your words, Roger. These men are my guests and you should treat them accordingly."

"Lady Orihime, I would insist that you trust me on this matter. Your brother entrusted your care to me, and he would roll in his grave to see you like this. Those men are not guests here and I will have them run off the manor at once, by force if need be."

"Do you hear that, Shinji?" Love asked, cheerfully. "By force. Never thought an Englishman could make me so happy."

The men all bore grins, and Orihime wasn't even sure what to make of that. The highlanders had yet to draw their swords, nor did they seem to be concerned by the fact that they were outnumbered two to one. In fact, the men seemed to be quite eager to engage in a fight with her brother's men. And if that didn't seem demented, she didn't know what did. She offered another quick prayer up and quickly tried to think of a way out of their predicament.

"After much reflection, Shinji. I believe it would be better if we left immediately. After all, it would take us some time to reach the Highlands, wouldn't it?"

Shinji looked at her over his shoulder. "Ah, lass, you do take the fun out of our day."

…

Ichigo wiped the sweat from his brow as he pulled his sword out of the enemy's body.

His suspicions had been correct, the MacDougalls had been planning an ambush, and when they had come in from the North, Ichigo and his men had been ready for them. The fight had been long and bloody, with only a handful of his men wounded, though thankfully, none were in need of the last rites.

He had not received word yet from Shinji, and despite himself, he was starting to feel anxious. Revenge was close at hand, something he'd waited seventeen long years for, and he was quite eager to strike back. When his search for information dug up rumours of the bastard Inoue's offspring, he'd been quick to act on them, tracing them as far as England, and his diligence had paid off. They had found his daughter, and Ichigo planned to use her presence to draw the rat out. It would be rather fitting for it to end the way it had started.

Ichigo and his men were preparing their horses for the ride home when the thunder of horse's hooves sounded nearby. Ichigo silently lifted his hand, motioning to his men, and they immediately moved to cover their presence from the oncoming riders.

Moments later, the riders appeared, and Ichigo was quick to give a shrill whistle. Shinji turned in his saddle, sword drawn as he looked for the source of the noise. He smiled when he spotted his laird, sheathing his sword, bringing his horse to a stop. Kensei, Love and Rose followed suit, and Ichigo nodded at each of his men.

"I see you were successful, Shinji." Ichigo spoke, his eyes on the hooded rider in the midst of his men.

Shinji grinned. "Aye, mi'lord."

Ichigo nodded in approval, before addressing the hooded rider. "Can mi'lady speak?"

She dismounted easily from the horse, her motions suggesting that she was an accomplished horse rider, and removed her hood then. Ichigo grunted at the vision before him, though his men weren't quite as disciplined, giving low whistles. Ichigo turned to glare every single one of them into silence before turning back to his bride.

She was beautiful, shockingly so. She was small in stature, the top of her head just grazing his shoulder, her features quite delicate. Waist-length brown hair spilled down her back, the straight strands matching her lustrous eyes, which stared back at him in what he thought was horror. He scowled at that; he wasn't particularly a vain man, knowing that most women were afraid of him, but since he was planning on bedding the woman soon, he had hoped that she wouldn't be a timid woman. He folded his arms and waited for her to get accustomed to him, trying not to notice how silky her skin looked or that sensuous mouth of hers.

Orihime clasped her hands behind her as she stared back at Laird Kurosaki. He was definitely a handsome fellow, his bright hair something she found quite delightful. The scowl on his face and the lack of wrinkles made her think that he was someone who rarely smiled, much less laughed, but the aura of strength that exuded from him was somehow comforting. She thought of his impromptu proposal, and wondered again why he would want to marry her in particular when he could probably have any woman he wanted. She shook her head at her fanciful thoughts. She was here to meet her father and nothing more.

He folded his arms and scowled all the more at her, and Orihime had the impression that he was waiting for her to speak to him. She made a perfect curtsy before addressing him. "I certainly can speak, mi'lord."

Ichigo raised a brow at her command of Gaelic and nodded, pleased that they wouldn't have any difficulty understanding each other. "Father Maclaurin is a day's ride from here. We should leave immediately."

Orihime moved forward until she was mere inches away from Ichigo. "Mi'lord, I would like to have a private word with you."

He lowered his head and whispered back in kind. "What is it that you want?"

Orihime cast a look of uncertainty at his men before turning back to Ichigo, her fingers tugging at the sleeve of his tunic. "I would be happy to tell you once we're alone, mi'lord."

Ichigo complied with her request, motioning to Shinji. At once, the men left the clearing, and Orihime smiled up at Ichigo with her appreciation, whispering a thank you. Her eyes were bewitching, and he found himself being drawn into her. Without thinking, he lifted his hand and rubbed his thumb against her lower lip, eliciting a gasp from her. She stared up at him wide-eyed, her breath drawn as she waited for what he would do next. He leaned down then and murmured, "you're welcome," against her lips before covering them with his own.

He shocked the breath out of her. She stood docile as his lips moved over hers, his lips hard and hot. Her hands came up against his chest, and she was sure that she was moving to push him away, but it seemed her body had other ideas. She clutched fistfuls of his tunic as she went soft beneath his ravaging mouth, and white-hot pleasure consumed her as he slanted his mouth over hers again and again. She trembled against him, and when she felt as if her legs would give way, she pulled away and pressed her face into his shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist as she tried to catch her breath.

Orihime was astounded at herself. She had never been kissed before, and had had no romantic aspirations in the past. Yet one kiss from this virtual stranger and she felt as if everything was right in the world, that she finally had family to come home to again. And if that wasn't the most ridiculous notion ever, she didn't know what was.

Ichigo's mind reeled as he replayed what happened moments earlier. He'd never before gotten so consumed in a single kiss that he'd lost all thought and reason. He was always in charge when it came to the fairer sex, always allowing certain parts of him to be revealed but keeping the essence of himself private. Yet this small bride of his that trembled so sweetly in his arms blew away all those barriers with just one kiss. He wanted it all; he wanted to take her now, right there on the ground.

And she was the daughter of his enemy.

It was that last thought that had him growing cold, all thought of lovemaking gone from his mind. He covered her hands with his, unclasping them and pulling them from around his waist. He took a step backward and looked down at her face, her still swollen lips enticing him to take what was his. He scowled instead and folded his arms to keep from reaching for her a second time. He gave her a hard look as he remembered the plan.

"You will marry me, lass."