Throw Me Away
By Poe
Chapter One
"Sir, something's wrong.
Excuse me?
The continuum, our readings are incalculable. Perhaps an error with our computers, but more likely, an error in space itself.
If there's a problem, you fix it. That's you're job. Must I remind you?
No, Sir, of course not. But if these readings are correct, well…
Yes?
It would take a god to fix it."
Pan cringed as a slam erupted from the temple. Vegeta was angry again. He only seemed to come to the temple in foul moods, and that wasn't exactly what the temple was built for. She supposed it had become her job to deal with this nonsense, so the best thing she could to was set her shoulders back and prepare Se-Aila for her task. Certainly a more unappealing one than Pan's job, but she couldn't help but complain to herself.
She sighed, and slipped out of the room, through the woven blue tapestry, and out the heavy, solid wood door. Pan knew where to find Aila, she was always in the same place around this time. Once the War came, Pan thought it would disrupt rituals like this around the temple. But the temple was built for this, an unchangeable void in Vegetasei, evading the lives of everyone in it and forcing them to become ceremonious and compulsive.
Pan lifted the tapestry to Se-Aila's door, and then placed her hand on the doorknob.
"Pan, come in," Aila said. In the temple, the elite could detect anyone's presence from miles away. Pan adjusted the sash around her arm and slipped into Aila's chamber.
Aila stood facing the shrine in the corner, gripping the edges of the wooden table. Pan knew this was sacrilege, but Se-Aila could be hardly discouraged.
"You heard, Se," Pan said, "Vegeta is having another one of his mood swings."
"That's Master Vegeta," Aila hissed, and Pan could sense from her voice that tears were in her eyes.
"Aila, I know that it's hard and everything, but if you're not going to do your job-"
"Se-Aila! It's Se-Aila! Where are your manners? You know, a foreigner from the Commonwealth like you should be groveling to be given a position like handmaid. Locals work for years to get where you are, and this kind of disobedience will not be appreciated."
Pan clenched her jaw. "Master Vegeta is here. You wouldn't want to keep him waiting."
Aila spun around, eyes red with tears, and glared fiercely. "You enjoy this, don't you? Seeing me whore myself to that… That pompous madman! And it doesn't help that he's had his eye on you, either!"
Se-Aila was renowned for her jealousy, she always seemed to suspect Vegeta was sleeping with everyone in the temple. She had even hung a cook for giving "questionably immoral" glances.
"Aila, calm down, Vegeta doesn't want anything from me but respect. It's a game to him. He wants what I would never give him."
"And why not? He gave you so much, why don't you just respect him as he wishes?" Aila protested. Pan knew that Aila was asking this, because she had abandoned so much for servitude, and received little in return. Although Pan often returned Se-Aila's anger, she knew that Aila had her reasons.
"You don't understand, do you?" Pan questioned, "You can't, you're a concubine! He can't kill you, he can just get rid of you, and then you can just be a concubine for someone else. I'm just a Handmaid, we're disposable. I can't give Vegeta what he wants, or he'll have no use for me. Besides, how can I respect a man like that?"
A spark of shame seemed to kindle in Aila's eyes, a shame of recklessness. Soon, however, her mood soured once more. "You take your worthlessness for granted. Be thankful all you have to do is cut vegetables and clean fountains. I study all day subjects that are both undesirable and difficult, and then at night, I have sleep with that intolerable lunatic whenever he wants."
"You knew that when the War started and you signed the oath. Well it's too late, now? And you know he's waiting-"
"I know he's waiting, slave, I don't have the brain of a child. Fix my hair quickly, and get my sash. Have you cleaned it?"
"Yes, why do you dress so nicely for this? Your clothes are just going to come off."
"Just get my goddamn sash," Aila said, seating herself by the dressing area. Pan grabbed the combs and sighed, she hated fixing Aila up. It was such a petty waste of time.
She took a handful of Aila's red hair as a welcomed silence settled over the room and ran the comb through smoothly, not snagging on a single knot. Aila spent so much time on her hair, it was almost perfect, and Pan almost suspected it would fall out later in her life. Pan, meanwhile, just brushed her hair, put it up, took a quick bath in the servant's room, and was ready in 20 minutes at most. Pan and Aila were near opposites, but had spent so much time around each other that they had almost developed a friendship. Not much of one, however.
"Hurry, Pan, the Master will be furious. And don't forget to make the tea, you know how the Master likes it." Pan brushed her hair faster and wondered dimly how Aila could go from referring to Vegeta as an "intolerable lunatic" to "the Master".
Pan finished brushing, and took a slight handful of hair, twisting at the end and pinning it up with the comb. She had to continue doing this until all of Aila's hair was properly pinned, and it was certainly a tedious chore for Pan. The silence was becoming painful as the job reached its end. She walked over to the end table and grabbed Aila's sash, walking back over and handing it to her.
"Good," Aila said, taking it and tying it around her arm, "Don't you dare forget the tea."
Pan nodded grimly, and watched Se-Aila get up, check herself in the mirror, and adjust her sash. She took a deep breath, stood up straight, and then turned to leave. Pan watched her go and a sting of jealousy throbbed in her heart.
Of course she did not envy Aila's twisted relationship with Vegeta itself, but that she had one. Vegeta was untamed; he didn't want a woman like Aila to fetter him. If only Pan could be with him, it was a sick thought, but there was something so attractive about him.
She stood up and shook her head. What would Vegeta want with her? Pan was a replaceable slave and disobedient, for that matter. Her life was hanging from thread and Vegeta liked it that way. The fact that Vegeta had given her a job in the temple was giving her false hopes, he didn't care for her, and he just wanted the position filled.
And Aila had much more than Pan had, she was far more attractive than Pan. She was well groomed, ladylike, and docile if she wanted to be. Aila had been educated intensively from the age of three until her current age of twenty-seven. She was almost Vegeta's intellectual equal, despite the fact that he was forty-five. Naturally gifted with logic and intuition, she had earned a place in the academy that allowed her to by considered as a concubine. The only thing she lacked was Pan's innocence, and her inability to show respect. What could Vegeta see in that?
Pan walked over to the mirror and frowned. She never took care of herself, she managed to look wild yet plain in her uniform, sullen yet childlike, and hopelessly clueless about the ways of the world.
Pan brushed her hair back into place, and sauntered over to the door leading out of Aila's preparation room. She could think about these things all she wanted, but now was time to make tea.
Aila left Vegeta's chambers as she usually did, with a calm visage but clearly storming on the inside. Who knew what turmoil lay beneath the surface. Pan watched her leave and didn't think much of it as she held the steaming pot of tea. Aila didn't even look at Pan, but that was expected.
Pan shrugged internally and approached Vegeta's room. She hated going in there after he was with Aila, nothing would change except that he would be in bed with no clothes. It was certainly an awkward situation, and Pan would usually just set down the tea and leave quickly. He would normally look at her the whole time, which made Pan even more uncomfortable as well as confused. After a while she just assumed he did this with everyone in order to intimidate them.
She balanced the teapot with one hand and opened the tapestry with another. Pan remembered that he could sense her presence and that if he didn't want her there, he could just say so before she entered, but he did not say anything. She opened the wood door and entered, her pace picking up a bit as she noticed Vegeta sitting upright in his bed. The blanket was draped around his lower section, and his chest was, of course, exposed. Pan set the teapot down next to his bed, and then the teacup, avoiding eye contact with him.
She looked up quickly at him, and he was staring at her as usual. Vegeta had a gaze that certainly was intimidating, and almost inescapable.
"Is there anything else you want?" Pan asked, almost angry.
He smirked. "That's Master. You had better watch your impoliteness or I could have you sent to the countryside."
Pan grumbled something under her breath and poured the tea, purposefully overflowing the cup.
"And actually, there is something I want from you, if you can believe it," Vegeta said. This surprised Pan a bit, but she quickly overcame her surprise.
"What is it? Cake with your tea?"
Vegeta laughed, cruelly. "It is not a task that can be so easily accomplished."
"Oh?" she asked, planting her hands on her hips. What was he proposing?
"I don't, however, think this is the best time to discuss it."
"When would be a time to discuss it?" Pan asked, a bit ashamed at her curiosity.
"Tomorrow. In the garden, by the eastern fountains, where we can't be heard."
She knew those fountains well. After all, she was in charge of cleaning them once a week, as so cruelly mentioned by Aila. "What this about? Can you at least tell me a little?"
Vegeta's gaze narrowed. "It's very simple, and I should hope that when I tell you there will be no need to explain anything. Is that clear?"
Pan mumbled a yes, a shade angered because he would not tell her anything. "I'll see you in the garden, then," Pan said, not too enthusiastically.
Vegeta nodded, and then turned his attention to the window. Pan sighed internally at the irony of the situation. This was the most curious conversation she had all week and it was coming from an attractive, and oddly enough, naked warrior covered only by the thin sheet of his bed.
As she headed out of the room, Pan couldn't help but wonder, was this the moment she had waited for? She dismissed the thought quickly. She was, after all, merely a servant.
Author's Note: Wow, there's a lot to be explained. This fic has a future, I'll tell you that much. If you want, review with complaints, comments, compliments, or whatever, it'll get me writing faster. Thanks!