An Empire Worth Nothing
Vegeta did not believe in love at first sight.
"Love" was not a word people generally associated with Saiyans, let alone him specifically. Contrary to popular belief, though, he did not put much stock in hate at first sight either. What was the point? Hate required energy, planning, a considerable emotional investment… Hating people required effort and Vegeta was not prepared to grant that to just anyone. Dislike, however, was free and, since the Prince could be generous when the mood struck him, was liberally donated to everyone. That being said, Vegeta did in fact believe in hate at first sight, if only because he experienced it personally in two instances: the first was, quite obviously, when he was introduced to Lord Freeza. In later years, the reptilian overlord would give him plenty of reasons to rekindle that small candle of hate that immediately shone in his heart when he first laid eyes on him, until it became an all-consuming fire that threatened to burn to cinders his very own soul; in the darkest nights, when all his family was fast asleep but Morpheus stubbornly refused to visit him, a quiet voice in Vegeta's head wondered whether he could ever find any form of love strong enough to match that hate. The second instance was NOT Kakarott. Oh, he had loathed him with all his heart and he was still a little hesitant to completely let go of the sentiment, but it had been like falling in love with Bulma: a slow, methodical process, accompanied by a metaphorical checklist. Third Class? Check. Stronger than him? Check. Irritating morals? Check… It was hate, but it was reasoned.
That messy, unjustified and all-consuming kind of loathe only surfaced again when he was standing before Lord Frost and he was brought back to those first confusing moments when Freeza first approached him. He did not know his name, where he came from or what he did, but he knew he hated him with all his heart and wanted him dead. The Arcosian sensed his stare, turned to look at him, and smiled. Smiled. Kakarott smiled back and waved, obviously, and Vegeta had to mentally glue himself to the pavement and force his face muscles not to make any movement, or he would do something that would probably decree Earth to be sent to Universe 6 forever, no battle fought. During the Tournament, he was glad when Frost eliminated his fellow Saiyan and he would have thrown Piccolo out of the ring himself, had the Namekian refused to drop out of the competition, to have the chance to hurt the Arcosian if only a little, if only for a while. He almost did not care about the humiliating defeat at the hands of Hit; he'd had his cathartic moment and that was enough. That, of course, was before Frost decided coming to say goodbye at the end of the Tournament was a good idea.
It was difficult to keep himself in check, while the Emperor politely thanked him for the fight and expressed the desire for a rematch sometime; the part of him that was Saiyan wanted blood and could not understand why it was not getting it, seeing as the Tournament was over and its rules were no longer valid. The only way he had to relieve some of the strain was through words and he gladly drunk that poison. "I am surprised you venture to suggest a rematch", he enunciated as sarcastically as possible, "considering how your talents seem to simply lie in chemistry. There would be no point in fighting you again, if I felt like finding new ways to cheat my opponent I could amuse myself without needing suggestions." A forced calm descended on Frost's face and Vegeta could have howled in victory. The Arcosian took a deep breath, discreetly turned around to see if anyone was listening and, satisfied that gods and fighters were far away and distracted, turned back to the Prince. "Do you know how much my Empire is worth?", he enquired in a low murmur. Vegeta snarled.
"I could not care less-"
"Nothing"
Vegeta blinked; that effectively halted his tirade before it could fully start. Frost's eyes were digging into his, as if trying to drill the words into his brain. "My family used to be the richest and most powerful in the universe. We had hundreds of planets under our control and we wanted for nothing. I remember being so bored as a child; what could I possibly desire? I had everything. I wanted excitement, I wanted action! So… I decided to start a war…" His voice dropped to a pained murmur, as if admitting it out loud was too shameful a chore. "It was over nothing, a stupid rock placed between my territory and another warlord's. It was worthless: no metals, no natural resources, just a harmless, terrified population, but I just wanted an excuse. We won of course and then… then I saw what winning looked like. All the houses were burnt to cinders and there were bodies- bodies buried under them. Most men had been executed and the women… they were… hurt. And the children… gods, the children. They were starving, you know? The only thing giving them a living was their fields, but everything was burnt. I did not think of bringing food or water. I did not think of bringing anything! I don't need it, right? And I just wanted my victory, I just wanted to feel great!"
A long pause followed and Vegeta refused to say anything as Frost furiously rubbed at his left eye. "I managed to save a few", the Arcosian finally went on softly. "And they even dared to be grateful. They wanted to play with me! That hurt more than anything else. That day, I realised I was just a shallow idiot. Bored? How could I be bored when there was so much to do? So, I created my Peace Keeping Force and poured all my resources in stopping conflicts and rebuilding destroyed planets. My fortune was endless, how long could it take?"
Vegeta had a very good idea. Frost seemed to read his mind and smiled mirthlessly. "I am pretty much bankrupted now", he admitted, casually crossing his arms in front of his chest. "I am down to my last savings. Donations and publicity keep us afloat and a few investments ensure I can still pay my men if push comes to shove, but I am pretty much at the point where my best asset is myself. My strength and speed allow me to get more done in less time, even save planets by myself when I am in peak condition. But… an injury, a mutilation could change that."
The Prince still refused to acknowledge what he was hearing, now wishing Frost would just go away already, but the Arcosian was relentless, as if desperate to get his point across. "The money promised by Lord Champa in case of victory on the Tournament would have eased some of the strain, but I could not risk injuring myself too badly to get it. Easier said than done, when fighting the best martial artists in an unknown universe. So, I devised this… back up plan. An insurance of sort, if you will."
Vegeta gritted his teeth. "You can stand there speaking of morals, sounding so high and mighty, but you are just an opportunist! That was a cheap shot! You have no honour and fighting you again would be a waste of my time." Frost's bitter laugh sent shivers down his spine; he needed to leave, but he refused to make it look like he was running. "Honour?", the Emperor wondered, "Honour? You are right, I have no honour, I lost it the day I decided to start that war. I couldn't care less about honour. I was hoping to leave this Tournament with more funds and my health intact; I got one of the two. But let's talk about you, honourable Prince Vegeta: what have you got?"
The use of his title made him suddenly wary and a little sick. Frost, sensing the change in atmosphere, plunged the claws in the open wound. "Cabe told me about you, you know? Of how you… how was it? Oh yes, stole planets. I wanted to be civil with you, avoid unnecessary conflicts, say thank you, goodbye and try to forget your smug smirk, but you- you are so… so irritating! You think I act high and mighty? You speak to me about honour? You, a mercenary?"
Mercenary always felt like a meaningless word to Vegeta. It did nothing to describe his situation, the horrors he saw and committed daily, and it only evoked slight contempt, surely not the hate and scorn he deserved. It was also grievously incorrect: he was not paid to kill, that would imply a choice, options, a freedom of sort. Freeza never needed to pay him, he owned him; he never needed to convince him to kill, his own father saw to that; there was never a choice: he was Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, and killing was what he did.
"You knew what I was talking about, didn't you?", Frost continued in a low growl that sounded so out of place in his delicate voice. "You probably ensured such an outcome, did you not, my Prince? Did you rejoice in their cries of terror? Did you have fun destroying all they held dear? Men, women… children…"
Bulma. Trunks. No. Never again.
"Did you kill them all or did you drag a few of them into your hell? Stole them from their home, their parents gone, spirited away to serve as cannon-fodder for your hungry master of the day…"
Are we still in agreement about your son?
Yes… you can… have him…
"… and you dare preach to me?! I was a monster and I am still atoning for that, but I wonder how you can sleep at night! Are you not bothered? Are you not haunted by their faces?"
They are weak, my son and we, we are part of the strongest race in the universe
"Keep your honour to yourself! You-"
Do you want to see your family again? Well, you'd better start working then, young Prince
"-are-"
Too slow, Vegeta, too slow! Really, how long does it take to wipe out a planet of miserable vermin? Is that how you repay my benevolence?
"-one…"
My poor Prince, such shocking news! Quite fortunate you were away when it happened… Do not fret though, my dear, as long as you are with me your future will be taken care of
"… of them…"
Frost trailed off. Something must have showed in his eyes and Vegeta felt betrayed that something would dare resurface after such a long time. Instead of jeering and taunt him some more, though, the Emperor looked completely deflated. "You are one of them", he repeated faintly and Vegeta guarded his silence, because he stopped being one of them, being one of anything a long time ago.
"How young?", Frost wondered breathlessly and the Prince did not know how to respond to this kind of reaction. He went with the safest method and offered an empty smirk.
"Five."
Frost winced, as if the word had been a physical blow, and bit his lips. Vegeta sincerely hoped he would finally decide to leave, but he should have known by now that he would never have such luck. "How did that happen?", Frost asked, seemingly afraid of the answer and the Prince could not believe that they were still talking about that, that the Arcosian had still the gall to question him. He considered attacking him, just to put a stop to the conversation, but then people would want to know why; he could walk away surely, but wouldn't that look like he was upset, like he could not handle that? No way in hell Frost was going to make him run like a coward.
"My father made a deal with our master of the day", he explained flippantly. And why wouldn't he be flippant? It was just a business transaction after all, nothing to be upset over – Freeza reminded him of that many times. He hated Frost a little more for looking at him as if it was a big deal. "Your father", he murmured incredulously. "Your own father..."
That was the damn last straw. "I am the Prince of all Saiyans", he proclaimed in a low growl. "Killing is what we do, it's what I do! I was not some snivelling child, I was already stronger than many experienced soldiers! I was on battlefields before I could talk. You cry about starting a war? Do you know how many I finished? I was one of the best in that bastard's army, I became an Elite at 15, no one ever managed it that young! I was- "
Frost took a step forward and Vegeta acted on impulse, preparing to strike. "Just give me an excuse, Freeza", he snarled and only realized his mistake when dawning realization appeared on the other's face. "Freeza", Frost mumbled. "An Arcosian name… Oh. I-I look like him." Vegeta had no answer to that. The Emperor just nodded to himself and took a couple of steps backward. "I am really sorry", he said quietly, his lilting voice caressing Vegeta's ears in a way that added to his repulsion. Their time was up, fortunately; Kakarott and the others were done talking and were throwing curious glances at the pair. Frost still seemed hesitant to leave though. "What I said… is unforgivable…", he started, but Vegeta cut him off bluntly: "Get over yourself, what you said is nothing but the truth."
"The circumstances were different though- "
"It was war. You are either strong enough to survive or you are not. My race was for a time, but then a bigger fish came along and ate us all. I did my own share of eating. That is what war is about."
He made the words sound final, signalling that as far as he was concerned the conversation was over. Frost finally seemed to get the message and bowed awkwardly: "Please accept my apologies for my rash words earlier", the Arcosian repeated. "I am sorry our meeting had to be under these circumstances and wish I could have made a more favourable impression. If I may just bother you with one last question though… This Freeza character, is he the same man Goku mentioned fighting?"
Vegeta impatiently nodded.
"Has he been stopped for good?"
The Prince nodded again, trying to ignore Kakarott jumping up and down in an effort to get his attention; he could have made himself useful earlier and rescued him from that conversation, now he was not going to run to him like a dog when his master whistled.
Frost briefly closed his eyes. "Good", he breathed. Red irises found black ones again, for what Vegeta hoped was the last time. "I may have no honour left to speak of", Frost whispered, "and my empire is worth nothing at this point, but I like to think that my word still holds some kind of value. I give you my word, Prince Vegeta, that I will do everything in my power to ensure others are spared from the fate that befell on you. I do not care if I have to spend all of my mortal time, all of my money and all of my energies on this task; one day, there will be no more wars."
The red in his eyes made the resolute fire in them burn brighter and Vegeta was once again enveloped by a suffocating wave of hate. There was no getting around the absolute loathing Frost's face, voice and eyes evoked in him, but hate required such effort to be sustained and the checklist was failing him. Frost's word was probably worth nothing, just like his former empire. Still, a man who gave up an empire to run after the delusional dream of a peaceful universe deserved nothing but dislike.
Vegeta bowed with the ease born of years of practice. "I wish you a long life, Lord Frost", he intoned in his most sarcastic voice, as he prepared to leave.
He loved sarcasm; it clothed with armour even the most genuine statements.
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