Disclaimer: Don't own anything, just merely the plot. SEVERE AU. Kind of a mash of fantasy and historical events. Not set in one particular region or culture, a bit of a blend of everything. Heavy emphasis on Game of Thrones, which I have no claim to.

For the Clan

Chapter One

Holding the reins with his left hand, Trunks snaked his right up to his shoulder to feel the arrow shaft embedded between the plates of armor. His vision was clouding from a combination of sweat and blood as he pushed his heels into the horse, urging her to move faster.

Too many of his men were lost in the ambush; he had barely gotten away and he was losing hope that he could survive. An arrow rested in his left shoulder and he had felt a bolt hit his side below his right rib cage. Thankfully the bolt had gone straight through, that would be treatable if he could find help soon. He knew he had other wounds but he had been unable to access them or to stop and try to pinpoint them all.

His breath billowed in front of his face from the cold winter air and further clouded his vision. Just how many days had he been riding? He couldn't remember. After the battle in the Karyo Woods, he and his men were to return to West City where they would receive their dispatch orders and return to their respectable clans. They weren't expecting to be ambushed on the Goldroad. Trunks berated himself, "I should have sent out more scouts, this could of all have been avoided!"

Trunks coughed, the action rattling his already weak body. Up ahead he could see a faint glow of firelight, he just needed to make it and hope that the travelers were friendly. But because of the Great War, the roads were never safe and everyone was weary of each other. Alliances were paper thin and life was no longer valued. Trunks felt himself slipping, his fingers wafting against the leather reins as they blew away from his grasp. His body slumped as he landed in the soft powdery snow, his blood staining it a crimson red. All he could hope was that the lights coming towards him could show him the mercy of a quick death.

Death would be a far better friend than this pain and failure.

-XoXoXoX-

It was warm. The unmistakable, heavenly feel of a fire against his checks was undeniable. The sweet blessed warmth was heavy on his body. Trunks attempted to move but felt a restriction not only from his body denying the action, but from the amount of blankets tucked around his muscular frame.

A searing pain in his side caused him to groan and alerted the other occupants in the room to his consciousness.

"Shhh, don't try to move." It was a woman's voice. Trunks could barely lift his heavy eyelids to see who was addressing him. Trunks's head was slightly lifted and he felt something cold press against his lips. "This is dorium root milk; it will ease your pain. Drink it and rest." He felt the cold, chalky liquid at his lips and opened his mouth to allow it to enter. He could care less if the milk was poisoned. Why would his rescuer save him only to kill him? Besides, if the poison was mixed with the milk, well he could think of more horrible ways to die than being lulled to sleep by medicine.

There was no fighting his body to stay awake; it was clearly demanding rest and it was something that Trunks was willing to get…

Trunks began to stir as he arose from his dreamless state. The room was still warm, but he was only covered with a thin blanket. He had a feeling that he had been moved; he could vaguely remember being jostled on a cart and assumed he was in his rescuer's home.

"I see you're awake." Trunks turned to see a man sitting on a stool in the room. He held a broadsword in his hand, sharpening the blade with a whetstone. The man's dark ebony hair shone in the firelight as the stone sang across the blade, the sharpness glinted in the firelight. The stranger turned his onyx eyes to look at the ill man and Trunks guessed that he was no older than himself, if not the same age.

"Thank you," Trunks croaked out, his voice cracking from the exertion. The stranger reached around behind himself to grab his wineskin and threw it at the bed, landing in Trunks's lap. Trunks opened the cap and drank a few tentative sips of the red wine.

"You shouldn't think me. Thank my sister once she returns. I would have left you."

Trunks nodded in understanding knowing that if this stranger had had his way, he would have had a sword through his heart instead.

The man stood and crossed the room and held out his hand in the gesture of a handshake. "My name's Goten."

Trunks clasped his hand into Goten's and could feel the strength of the man in front of him. "Trunks." Trunks only received a grunt in acknowledgement.

Goten gathered his sword and turned to Trunks, "You better get some more rest." He left and when he did the roaring of a winter storm hit Trunks's ears as the chilly fingers crept in to leave a touch of cold in the room.

Trunks must have dozed off for he awoke again to the door sliding open. This time a woman with long dark hair entered, Trunks assumed it was Goten's sister. She was carrying a tray and sat it down next to him.

"Goten told me you were awake," Her voice was soft and gentle. She looked at Trunks with dark eyes laced with flecks of blue. "How are you feeling?"

Trunks eased himself up into a propped position, "Sore."

The woman nodded in understanding as she removed the lids off a few of the bowls. She held a cup to him, which he gladly took. "Something light to start with; it's a broth made with roots. It might taste a little bitter but it does have healing properties."

Trunks sniffed at it, noting that it had a bit of a woodsy smell. He placed the bowl to his lips and sipped, feeling the instant warmth reaching to his cold toes. His stomach churned slightly at the bitter taste. "How long was I out for?"

"Almost a month now; there were moments when we could get you to respond to us and during those times we could get you to take some broth, but you haven't really eaten anything since you've been with us. We shall see how you do with this tonight and if stays down I'll get you some bread to eat."

"Thank you," Trunks handed her the bowl back, which she placed back on the tray and returned the lid.

"I need to change your bandages." She began to remove the blankets, exposing his bare chest. Slowly, so as not to hurt or startle him, she unwrapped the linen, noticing that there was no odor anymore. A good sign since it indicated that the infection was gone and that he would indeed live from his injuries.

"My name is Trunks."

She hummed, "Goten told me. I'm Pan."

Pan, it was short, simple and sweet. Trunks's blue eyes watched the small, beautiful woman as she worked.

Pan's fingers traced over an old scar of his, "I take it this isn't your first time being injured?"

Trunk shook his head, "Not in the least. I'm a general…"

She quickly clamped her hand over his mouth, "Say no more. Here we won't ask questions but if you are for the wrong side you could have just signed your death warrant."

Trunks mentally kicked at himself, he knew better than to spout out information like that; but he knew from the way his heart was racing from the ever so small touch from Pan that he was acting like nothing more than a love-struck boy.

Pan took a rag boiled in wine and sponged at the wound. "I removed the stiches last week, the skin is healing nicely." She put the rag on the tray and opened another bowl. Using her fingers, she dipped them into the bowl and smeared some of the salve on his wound, using a generous amount. Once she was done, she wiped her hands and grabbed a fresh roll of linen and began to rewrap his ribs. "I have Goten making you a crutch. I don't want you walking just yet. Your broken ribs should have healed by now but they are still bruised." She moved behind him and began to wrap his shoulder wound, causing Trunks to hiss.

"I had to dig the arrowhead out. You ran a fever for a few days and I had feared you wouldn't make it. You did though."

Trunks bit his lip as she pressed a fresh boiled rag to his shoulder, "I think you, my lady. I would be dead if it wasn't for you."

"You were lucky it was us that found you. Days before hand we were traveling and stumbled upon a group of murdered people. Their bodies had been stripped of everything. In honesty, we might have missed you if we hadn't of stopped to bury the dead. It put us behind a few days. I'm glad we found you though." She whispered the last part as she rewrapped the wound. She held up a glass, "I brought dorium root milk if you would like some."

"No, thank you. Although I have pain, I prefer for my mind to be unclouded."

Pan nodded, "I understand. I have to return to my duties. Trunks please get some rest and I will check on you in the morning."

"Good night, my lady." He bowed his head in a parting gesture as she gathered up her supplies and exited the room. He noticed that the winter storm had passed and the sky outside was calm. He settled back down onto his mat, pulling the blankets up around himself, and drifted slowly back to sleep.

-XoXoXoX-

Weeks passed and Trunks had gotten stronger and he no longer had to use the crutch. Winter was slowly melting away and the first sprigs of summer were popping out of the snow. Trunks had spent many of his days with Pan as company, oftentimes they were accompanied by the shadow of her overprotective brother, Goten. Trunks didn't mind though as he was finding himself in love with this beautiful woman.

They were in some sort of encampment hidden in the mountains from what he could tell. Trunks couldn't really call it an encampment though, as there were houses built inside cuts of the rocky mountainside and a bathing house near the hot spring. Pan told him that they moved a lot and this was one of their homes. He was dreading the next few days as people were rushing around and packing items onto carts. Pan told him that it was time for them to move again, and tonight her older brothers had deemed that he was well enough to leave.

Trunks and Pan spent their last dinner together in his room, a spread of fish, bread, olives, and rice in front of them. Pan had brought him a pack of food, a blanket roll, and a few medical supplies in case he had needed them. Their meal was silent, neither wanting to ruin the moment. Trunks looked up at her. Her dark hair had been pulled back into a neat bun with a few curly tendrils framing her face. Her cheeks were slightly chapped from the winter wind but the redness only added to her beauty. There was a brisk knock at the door before the screen slid back and Goten entered.

"We're leaving in an hour." Trunks nodded at him, knowing that he would need to say his goodbyes soon.

Goten took a place at the table and began to eat with them. All in all, Goten didn't mind the man being in their village. But his presence was a risk to his family and he couldn't allow it. Gohan, their elder brother and leader of their family clans and House, had decided that it would be best if Trunks were to leave them before they moved and since it was a full moon tonight, it was perfect for travel.

-XoXoXoX-

Trunks cinched the bedroll to his saddle and patted his mare. He was very thankful to the villagers for caring for her well as she had been a gift to him from his parents many years ago.

Trunks turned to Pan who stood staring at him with large eyes as he prepared his horse to leave. He walked up to her, noticing how short she was to him, and how small and delicate she appeared. Trunks gathered her hands into his, her fingers entwining into his, as he held them up and kissed the top.

"Pan, I cannot thank you enough for all that you have done for me."

She looked up at him, her dark eyes were glazed over as she held back her tears, "You take care Trunks." She stood up on her tiptoes; her lips were barely able to graze his cheek in a kiss.

"I will." Trunks turned back and mounted his horse. Goten held up a bag to him, which Trunks placed over his head, cinching it tight. He held his hands out for Goten to bind them together. Once that was done, he held onto the pommel as his horse was led away.

They traveled over half the night, Goten made many twists and turns and would often double back as a form of precaution. They finally stopped and Goten removed the binding on Trunks's hands. With his hands finally free, he was able to remove the bag from his head and breathe in the cool night air.

Goten pointed to the horizon, "That way is to West City. Two day ride." Goten mounted up his horse and pulled up alongside of Trunks. He held his hand out, which Trunks took and shook. "Be safe."

"Thank you for all the hospitality you have given me."

"I suggest you don't get hurt anymore; my sister might not be around to heal you next time."

Trunks smiled, "I don't plan on it."

"Then, good hunting, friend." And with the common phrase meant to bring good luck, the two departed.

-XoXoXoX-

Like Goten had said, West City was only a two day ride. Trunks rode his horse up to his father's manor and entered through the servant's entrance. One of the servants, Miri, scrambled at the sight of him and declared that she would go to drawl a bath after realizing her master was in a rather disheveled state. Trunks entered the bathhouse and undressed as he waited for the hot water to be drawn. Once the water was declared ready, he lowered himself into the pool, the warmth began to work its way into his tired muscles.

"Boy!" Trunks's father, Vegeta, yelled as he entered the bathhouse, "I had hoped that once you returned you would make your presence known instead of finding out from a servant that you were here." Vegeta eyed his son, noticing the fresh scars on his body.

"Sorry, Father," Trunks replied, "I will make myself presentable and then it can be formally announced."

Vegeta grunted in response, "There is a Small Council meeting tonight, I will inform them that you will be attending. Your mother and sister are in the City too, they will be thrilled that you have returned." And without another word, his father, who was normally a man of very few words, turned and left the bathhouse.

Trunks combed his wet, lavender colored hair away from his face and bound it in a ponytail at the nap of his neck. Freshly dressed in clothes befitting his rank, he left for the council meeting, his feet still knowing the path to take. He received many bows from servants and noblemen, which he returned a nod in acknowledgement.

Everyone, but his father, rose upon his entrance to the Council Hall, and he gestured for them to take their seats.

The Lord of West City, Rickard, embraced Trunks and clamped him on the arms, "My boy, I am so glad you're back. Your Lord Grandfather was distraught to learn that his young prince had gone missing."

"I assure you that I am fine, thanks to the kindness that we often don't find nowadays." The elderly man nodded in agreement.

Vegeta spoke up, "The King has already been informed of his grandson's return. He has also sent word too that he needs him to join the ranks of Napa in the Western Quarter of Junco."

"So soon? The boy has only just returned," Rickard shook his head, his silver whiskers bouncing from the gesture.

"I am sure my son can handle it," Vegeta started at his son, his dark eyes impassive. Trunks returned the gesture. "He leaves in three days."

-XoXoXoX-

Trunks rolled his sore shoulder, the wound had healed a long time ago, but there were days when it ached. He had been in the Western Quarter for a year now. It seemed like the problems were only getting worse. The soil quality was horrible and many farmers were unable to grow a decent crop to horde away for winter time. He was currently sorting through a stack of applications a few of the residents had made for food subsidiaries to make it through the coming winter.

Trunks rubbed at his temple, feeling the beginnings of a headache. He was thankful that his grandfather, the King of Saiyana, had known the extent of his injuries and had assigned him an easy task, but this station was too mundane for him. He had already sent a letter to his father informing him that he was well enough to begin patrols or return to the battlefield. As long as it kept him from doing paperwork, he was happy. Right now, Trunks almost wished they would call him back to Court in Saiyana, he would happily attend the council meetings as it meant that he could shovel the paperwork off onto the scribes.

An idea suddenly pulled Trunks from his musings, "Nappa," he addressed the balding commander than often never left his side, "I'm going out to scout."

-XoXoXoX-

Snow was beginning to fall as Trunks made his way back to the camp. He hoped it would hold out on falling too thickly as he wanted a leisurely trip back. Trunks suddenly halted his horse; there was something on the horizon. He directed his mare into a thicket of woods, concealing themselves in the shadows. From a distance he could see a cloaked figure struggling to run through the ankle deep snow caused by the drifting wind. By the way they moved, Trunks assuming that they were injured. He was about to approach the person when a horse and rider came barreling down upon them. The rider loosed an arrow and it embedded into the runner's shoulder. The person on foot screamed out in pain, their free arm reaching behind them to quickly break off the shaft.

"Give up!" The rider screamed as they dismounted and drew their sword. The rider kicked at the person, knocking the runner a few feet forward.

The runner quickly gathered themselves up, the hood of their cloak freed itself from their face. Trunks could see that the runner was a woman as her long dark hair flowed in the wind.

"Do it!" She taunted, "Kill me like you did the others and be done with it."

The rider kicked her once again, she had brought her hand up to block it but the force of the blow was enough to knock her back into the snow. "I have my orders!" The man bellowed as he grabbed her by her hair. He pulled the rest of the arrow shaft out of her shoulder, eliciting a scream from the small woman. "But first I think I'll have my fun." The man sheathed his sword and grabbed at the woman's clothes. A loud rip echoed from the valley as he began to tear at her clothes.

Trunks don't know what overcame him but within an instant he had pulled his horse up, his sword already drawn and connected with the man's skull. Jumping off of his horse, Trunks sheathed his sword and approached the woman. He noticed there was a large amount of blood from her wound and there was a chance she could bleed out if left untreated. He called out to her, but her silence let Trunks know that she was unconscious.

He knelt beside her and brushed her dark hair from her face. He sucked in a breath of air when realization of who the woman was hit him.

"Pan!"