I do not own this FanFic, i am posting this so i can share with every one who can't find it other than ht home webpage. I read this years ago and tried to find it and it took me 1 year and 4 mounts. and by posting it up here i can add a copy to my fanfic reading app on my cellphone. so injoy XD!
home page: fanfiction/a_
The Best of Both Worlds
By: Chocolate-chan
Warnings/spoilers: AU, Yaoi, Lemon
"Prince! Prince, wait up, please!"
Not this time, the Prince thought in reply, spurring his horse on to greater speeds as he smirked over his shoulder. The powerful dust-streaked flanks of the prized white horse flashed in and out of view below him, both rider and horse working to maintain the balance and the long run. Really, who would have wanted those three retainers with them all the time anyway?
"Nay!" The prince grimaced distastefully; their mission in life was to keep him from having any fun, just as his parents would do were they here. Delightful. His mother would do just such when he arrived at home, he was sure. "You'll have to catch me, knaves!" He got many of his jollies by teasing his retainers.
Really, father, you choose the most inconvenient moments to die. The Prince's thoughts were self-absorbed as he raced over the flat lands that ended abruptly at the gate to the capital city. Although this land around belonged to the tiny country of his birth, it was usually referred to as "Mountain Country," where secret reserves of minerals in the soil would make a man, indeed, an entire nation, rich. Who would imagine I'd be king before my eighteenth birthday?
He had discovered among his travels that his father, the King, had died suddenly and rather unexpectedly from food poisoning. The people in the towns he had encountered had swigged their mead and liquor, chanting the lyrics to a new song, - "Ah, food poisoning, what won't it cure?" and stopping abruptly when they learned the heir was among them.
At the top of a cliff on the circuitous route that the Prince had chosen, he reined in his horse and contemplated. The banners were out on the castle, was the first thing he noticed. A rare smile touched his solemn lips when he spied the one on the right, ragged, made entirely by his sister, the princess, who lacked all the sewing skills a princess should have.
As his lone horse approached the open gates, the guards, usually ceremonial, snapped upright, glanced at him, and realized by his erect carriage and quality clothing who he was, and spared a thought for why the Prince was unescorted- hadn't he left with retainers?
"All Hail!" Yes, yes, thought the Prince wearily. We've been through this...
"Welcome home, Prince Trunks!"
Before even allowing himself to rest and bathe, though he was scoured with road dust, Trunks brought himself to the throne room. Inside he was announced immediately, and waited patiently while his mother's petitioners were dismissed. "Mother, how are you faring after the tragic news?"
"I had hoped you wouldn't pick it up on the road, my son." The Queen rose and held her hands out to him, and he took them gingerly. "We are all saddened."
"I'm sorry I missed the service," he said, allowing a little remorse to creep into his tone.
"There is still much business that must be covered before we might grieve," his mother said, gravely. She pushed back the smallest piece of her fine blue hair that had escaped her crown and style. "I have sent word to King Tsukihito. You marry Princess Antoinette in two weeks."
Two weeks? The Prince's mind protested. I lose any freedom I might have had in two weeks? But he repressed the sigh that wanted to force itself from his chest. I don't even know Princess Antoinette. If he thought complaining would do him any good, he would, since his parents had indulged him totally as the crown prince. His mother might in that case give him her sympathy, but otherwise would arrange nothing. She had been engaged to the young Prince Vegeta before even knowing the King sought him a bride.
"Afterward, we'll be holding the coronation. I trust this will be acceptable as I have arranged it?" His mother looked at him a bit hopefully, dreading to hear his unwillingness to participate in some arranged marriage, but Trunks was long past the point of resistance.
"All will be as you suggest, mother." He bowed a little from the neck as he stepped back from her and let her resume her position on the throne. "Only, I should feel much more comfortable if the coronation were to precede the wedding?" Put the most stressful off, although he would be preparing to marry, learning the histories, managing the funds and the records and settling disputes all at once...
"I suppose it will be considered polite to entertain the Princess here for a while..." she mused, and finally said that wedding would be held in three weeks, after the coronation in two weeks.
"Thank you for your indulgence, my queen," he said humbly enough and rather formally, still registering his protest in the only way allowed. "Now this poor traveller shall collapse in peace and spare your eyes from his dirty presence." He grinned slightly at his mother as he moved away.
"I believe your sister wished to see you when you arrived." His mother called after him. Trunks turned his steps toward her suite with a weary sigh.
Her rooms were vacant, and Trunks turned to find her, but happened to make his task easy by glancing from the hallway windows and seeing her plaited blue hair by the duck pond, tossing breadcrumbs onto the water. He made his way down the stairs and out to the ground floor. "Sister!"
"Trunks-nii-chan!" Bra called as she realized who called her. She threw herself at him, delighted, and he hugged her before setting her carefully onto her feet again.
"And how fares my favorite little princess?" He inquired sedately as they sat on the stone bench together.
"Not half again so little!" She insisted as was her way. "And it seems to be common knowledge!"
"What sayeth thou, sister? Some court brutes I must teach a lesson for being fresh in the lady's presence?" Trunks gestured wryly to the sword that hung at his side, as his sister shook her head.
"Not from the court! These twice-damned suitors coming sniveling from these little countries around us, crying at the door night and day for the hand of the 'fair Bra-Hime'... I swear the next one that thinks of coming to my window to serenade me will have my chamber pot as a cap!" Bra twisted her dress in frustration.
Trunks blinked, only mildly put-off. "Well, and when they hear the mouth of our lovely princess they will think twice and twice again, will they not?" He deliberately kept his tone mild, daring her to find a trace of teasing.
"You are as good as my father now, Trunks-nii-chan... as good as King."
Trunks started and frowned. "We have not even come upon the coronation and already I sense a request coming."
With the jig up, Bra threw herself into her brother. "Please don't send me off to be the serving wench of some dirty little country where I know no one and have none of my ladies with me!" She could easily conjure tears when upset, but kept them at bay as he was wise to her.
"Bra-chan, in everyone's life there is the onus of marriage. It is a thing to be borne, and all of the jockeying and arranging in the world would not allow you to become a shamefully old maiden as you might desire! I'm sorry that none of these princes are to your liking, but..." This is my problem indeed, isn't it? "Mother says that over time you grow to love someone."
"Do you?" Bra asked softly. "It's unfair. Why couldn't I have been a poor villager far away, and be allowed to marry whom I please?" She crossed her arms and pouted her pretty pout.
"Believe you me, imouto-chan, I sympathize. As for serving wench, however, if I ever hear of such- why, I'll come and steal you back!" He vowed, and earned a grin from his sister as a reward.
"Just don't marry me off to that weasle-eyed prince from Leighston..."
"You know if it were up to me, you and I would play in the meadow forever. Shouldn't you be addressing your pleas to mother?" Trunks put a hand to her cheek gently as she stared at the grass glumly. "I'll argue in your favor," he promised.
"Arigatou, nii-chan. You should go wash," she told him, holding her nose with good humor. "You stink of the road."
Finally, maybe I'll get to relax, Trunks told himself. And who knows, maybe Princess Antoinette will be the most beautiful princess ever conceived of by the mind of man. With my luck?
Trunks began to throw himself into the work of managing the kingdom as soon as he was able, and as the time to the coronation ticked down and his newness wore off he got more and more comfortable. He met with the head of defense for the castle one evening, and the two walked through the castle and examined its defenses as they talked.
There was a shout down the hall, and as the two frowned at once and moved quickly to its source, the guards began to clamor toward the front hall, there to gain exit from the castle.
"What's going on?" Trunks asked loudly to those guards that were still in their original position.
"Bandits, Ouji-sama," came the respectful reply from one of the guards. "The ones from the forest are stealing from the markets again, sir. I think one of them is ...throwing rocks at the castle?"
"Why?" Trunks asked, unable to think why one would do such.
"None has dared ever before, sir. This one seems young..."
"Capture him," Trunks said after a moment's thought. I wish to see who hates us so much...
"Already done, sir. We will take him to be executed at once."
Trunks blinked, unsure as to how that command had reached the guards' minds. "Now who gave you that order?"
The guard paused, uncertain. "I'm... sorry, sir. The standing command from your father before you was upon encountering one of the bandits they were to be executed. What are your orders, Ouji-sama?" The guard was humble, so Trunks let it pass.
"I said, 'Capture him.' I wish to see what he's about." They bowed and went away.
"My father," muttered aloud. "He would do something like that." The head of castle defenses was a likable man who heard him grumbling and laughed aloud.
"Aye, and he would. He was a particularly harsh one, him. Begging your pardon for offenses against the dead, but that was one of the meanest people I ever laid eyes on." The man spat onto the stone floor as if to rid himself of the recollection, and Trunks merely raised an eyebrow.
Whoever this lad is.. he wouldn't speak to me, the Prince of this region and the forest he lives in, now would he? How now... The Prince mused on it until an idea came to him.
He was treated roughly, though not as bad as a prisoner might. The guards gave him curious glances, the 'Wild Man' of the forest or whatever stories the rich royal children told each other. It was his own fault he was there in the first place, and his family had already disavowed responsibility for him, in the event he 'do something stupid,' so he was to blame for being there.
Yeah. Smooth. He sighed and allowed himself to be shoved into the cell without resistance. He tripped over something that was stiff yet yielded slightly.
Hmm.. I thought from their description that he would be younger, a boy of ten or twelve. But the figure that sprawled onto the straw was nearly Trunks' age. He peered curiously out from his hood at the young man, who grumbled slightly to himself.
"Hotheaded?" Trunks repeated the one word he had picked up, and that in a curious voice. "I would say one would be hotheaded or desperate at least, to be thrown in here." The young man spun around at the sound of the voice.
"Who are you?" The young man demanded suspiciously.
"No one," Trunks answered in a sigh. "A poor man who begs on the street, until it gets to where there is no food for the poor to be had, and then one must steal and be thrown in prison." He pulled his cloak, one that had affected the appearance of rags but was actually good quality, tighter around him.
"Were you thrown from your home as my family was, by this nasty corrupted regime?" The boy's answer was sympathetic, and Trunks only shrugged slightly as he pondered that.
"I am too young to remember how I came to be poor, I just know that it is so." He affected the hopeless tone of voice he'd heard from criminals who'd inhabited this cell in the past.
"My name is Goten," the boy said after a long pause for thought. "If you have been wronged by the people who even now eat well and sleep soundly above our heads, then you're no enemy of mine. They call us 'Son'.. " seeing the reference was lost, Goten continued. "'Son', the 'Sons'.. the 'Sons of Goku'?"
Those terms were slightly more familiar to Trunks, who knew as every royal family member did in these parts how the great bandit leader Goku had been, in his own mind at least, wronged by the rule of Vegeta's family, and had become embittered. He stole and his men killed people, and tried to set fire to the capital city and burn it to the ground.
"Son Goten?" Trunks inquired in an affected mild tone of voice, adding, "They say bad things of your family. How your father killed and stole..."
"Lies!" Goten insisted, and crawled forward in the darkened cell to be in sight of his 'fellow prisoner.' "My father was a great man. King Vegeta was a corrupt old man, who stole the homes and the food from the tables and the clothes from the backs of many of his own people and sent them into the streets without a second thought!" Dark eyes glinted in the roundish face that regarded him. His hair was longish and rather messy, and his rounded face gave the appearance of a young boy, but the hunger he'd no doubt experienced brought a lean quality to his face, bringing his appearance up to the age he was.
Just a blasted fanatic, Trunks told himself. Why did I bother with this? He turned slightly, prepared to signal the guard to pull him away, but was interrupted by Goten.
"There's a place, you know, for people like you!"
"Nani?" the Prince asked, perplexed. Is he going to tell me the location of his hideout?
"I would take you there, but we seem to be stuck." Goten sat back on the straw with a rustle, and made an amused gesture at the bars. "My father's men, as you put it, their families all live together even still, and we all come together to form a big family. We work hard to make our living, but the people of this kingdom are under orders not to deal with us, and so as it gets colder we are forced to steal what we need as you yourself do."
Uh oh...
"They speak ill of us, but they have no idea!" Goten's face gathered a frustrated look. "If they could see our people they would know we bear them no bad wishes. I got here tonight because I was stupid, I have my moments and I know it. My brother told me if I got caught he would not take responsibility for me, but here I am anyway!" He threw his arms wide and smiled a rather charming smile at Trunks.
"So you are," he acknowledged, dropping his hand in curiosity. "What do you plan to do now?" He inquired.
Goten's face grew crafty. "Wait." Trunks didn't know what to say to that, so he let it go.
"A question, if you will... you must know as well as anyone that the king is dead and his son is preparing to rise to power," Trunks began, phrasing it carefully. "And yet you continue to retaliate instead of making an effort to gain his attention to your position?" Trunks' words seemed to stop Goten for a moment, and he jammed his chin onto his fist in thought.
"Well, first off, does this spoiled prince's baby..." Goten sniffed slightly, and Trunks took it to be a slang insult. "Even have a clue we exist? I somehow doubt it, and my brother, who is in charge of such things..." and with this he waved a hand as thought it didn't matter overmuch to him, "Had the idea to make him aware. He grew up in the wilderness as I did, and this is the only way we know, and we would not be accepted if we made the effort to communicate in any case. No one was injured, as my group has not killed people of this kingdom even for our lives in a score of years."
Goten seemed to be well-versed on the history of his little band, but then again, Trunks mused, it was only appropriate; his brother's position within the band seemed likened unto Trunks' position in the kingdom, which meant that Goten was comparable to Bra-hime. Despite himself he was intrigued by this group of people who lived in the wilderness untouched by the city.
What freedom there must be to be had there! Trunks' mind said in excitement, but his common sense laughed it off.
"What is your name, stranger, you who seem to already belong to us?"
"How does that thought come by you? Till now I have barely heard of you."
"It's in your voice. Sometimes you just know." Goten shrugged slightly and reached down for a piece of straw to twist between his fingers. "I can hear the cry for liberty that your mind must be giving even now. Believe me, I appreciate my liberty, although it would be a nice change to be cared for..." he trailed off at this, his tone dreamlike, and Trunks was forced to stop and consider him yet again.
He doesn't play the fanatic. It is rumored that charisma and early senility run in that family... charisma to make others come out there with them. The Prince paused a long time.
"Trunks," he said at last.
"Mm? Ah, well met, Trunks, then! And how would you like to see a place where you might walk into anyone's tent and be fed like a brother?" Goten's eyes twinkled, like free food was the gift of the gods. Perhaps it was.
"Such a place sounds intriguing..." Trunks admitted. This could be a major coup for me, at the start of my reign as well. After all, these people must be crazy!
"Then you'll come see it?" Goten's face reflected excitement, and Trunks paused at that expression.
"Well.."
"All you have to do," Goten began, but was interrupted by a rhythmic tapping at the window-bars. "..Is wait," he finished with a grin to answer Trunks' dubious look.
All of a sudden there was a small whoosh of air, and the guard across the room fell to the ground unconscious.
"Goten! Where are you, you no-count cur?" A male voice hissed roughly out the window. Trunks' eyebrows rose. I really must remember to say something about that...
"Here! What took you so damn long?" Goten is up and scuffling quickly across the straw before Trunks can say anything. He could swear Goten climbed the wall in his enthusiasm. "Need some help with the jailbreak?"
"Nah, we got it." There is a strange smell in the air, and a sizzle. It seems as though the bars melt away, leaving a space about big enough for Goten, and me if I held my breath, to push through. Goten blew on the area of the stone window frame that smoked slightly, and waved at it with his hand.
"Should be okay now," one of the 'rescuers' murmured.
"C'mon Goten, your sister will be worried sick, not to mention Gohan."
"Hai, I'm coming." Goten scrabbles up and out the window without another word, but he can be heard him saying, "Matte!"
His face came back through the window. "You never said if you'd go with us," Goten said.
Trunks clutched his cloak close about himself in shock, and Goten reached through a hand. "Please? If you don't want to stay there it's alright, demo..."
"There's a place, you know, for people like you!"
Before Trunks knew what he was doing, he was accepting Goten's hand and being pulled through the rough stone frame by a grip on both hands. He was loaded up onto a horse as one of Goten's companions inquired.
"Call it a charity case," Goten said with good humor. "We ready?" He receive an affirmative and climbed onto the horse in front of Trunks, as there was no spare in the group.
"You'll see, you'll never forget this place as long as you live!" Goten promised him with a grin tossed over his shoulders.
And just how did I get to be friends with bandits? Trunks asked himself, but he found himself wanting to go along with that look in Goten's eyes, a compelling, innocently honest look. What the hell.
Goten took the reins in his hands tightly as he spurred the horse forward suddenly, and his new friend was forced to grab onto his waist quickly or be lost. Goten readjusted himself on the horse to accommodate balance and space, and they took off, in the direction of the gates. No one was out, having heard stories of giant raiding bands who were approaching the city.
Fools. Baka na, minna. Goten cursed them silently as he rode with the grip cinching tighter to his waist the faster they went. But if there are still people like us even here, in the city, then everything's going to be okay!
Goten's good humor spurred him on until he was receiving hisses from his companions. "Idiot! You wanna be caught, all of us this time?"
Goten chuckled as he slowed his horse near the gates. "Gomen, Osamu." His friend pulled the dark roan he rode to a stop, and all three checked the surrounding area for guards at the gates, which had been left open for no particular reason, probably heavily under guard. Incompetents...
Trunks was still behind Goten, looking at him with large eyes that were of indeterminate color in the darkness, reflecting what dim torchlight there lay about. He seemed particularly shell-shocked. Guess he's never ridden with bandits, Goten mused.
A scent came to Goten just then, and he sniffed the air heavily, curious as to what that whiff had been, and if it foretold of any danger to them. It was sweet like flowers, so Goten dismissed it. Unless a group of rose-wielding demons was approaching they were home free.
They left the gate as quickly as they dared, riding hard across the flat lands in a wide circle, the moonlight illuminating most dangers. As the edge of the forest loomed near, Osamu stopped the group and pulled a makeshift torch from his saddlebag, lighting it, and bringing it near Goten.
"I didn't think you would be stupid enough to go to the castle, otomodachi," the fair-haired young man said to Goten with a slight grin, "But it seems you've picked up a prize."
The other's horse approached as the rider peered at Trunks in the dim light of the torch. "What'dya do, kidnap a noble?"
Goten laughed, the sound a little deeper than any he'd made in the cell; more at ease with himself on his home turf, Trunks supposed. "Joudan desu ka, Touya? I found a street rat with a familiar story."
"That one there's a noble," the one called Touya insisted with his chin thrusting in Trunks' direction, "If I have any say. But against you I never do, Goten-kun, so as you say, he's a friend."
Trunks gave his best benign gaze to Touya, with a smile and the words, "Noble. Such a compliment."
Touya laughed and reared his horse around to point toward the forest, as Goten murmured to Trunks, "Not among us."
"Oh. Then curse ye for a knave, I think I'm offended!" Trunks insisted, and Touya glanced over his shoulder at him with a disdainful expression and a flick of his longish forest-black hair.
Goten seemed amused, and guided his horse behind Touya's who followed Osamu into the forest, as the one with wheat-colored hair held the light high. He really knows nothing about us? Odd person...
They picked their way over rocky paths at first, carefully guiding their horses through places it seemed no horse should fit. But after a while, after a certain deepness into the forest, the paths were well-used, and the horses broke into an energy-conserving gallop. Even Trunks could tell that these three knew these paths like the hairs on their heads.
The dark forest colors flew fast and furious past them as the horses grew faster and faster for the joy of running, and Trunks was about to nod off on Goten's shoulder when he glimpsed light up ahead. So deep in the forest! They would see guards coming a mile away... "Can that be-?"
"Yeah," Goten said quietly. "That's it."
Goten was indeed a different person in a place familiar, Trunks mused. He reminded him of a friend and falconing partner the Prince had had long ago, who had died of the fever. Trunks knew the others were suspicious of him, and that Touya person was right about his origins. Apparently they both trusted Goten even when it came to an issue of their most hated enemies.
Did that say something for Goten, or them?
Goten's feet made little sound as they hit the ground, and he held the horse steady by its bridle as Trunks swung his leg over and moved off. He approached the circle of firelight cautiously, and as someone called out the names in near whispers; "Goten- Touya- Osamu!" People streamed from their tents into the firelight.
"Look, it's our little prince!" A short man yelled as he came to them.
Trunks started and looked down, but Goten only chuckled. "Krillen-san, I wish you wouldn't call me that."
"And a stupid little prince you are, too."
"I have my moments," Goten said with a shrug, as he moved toward the firelight, with Trunks trailing behind looking around. It was nearly an entire civilization of its own; there were skin tents around, all meticulously cared for, usually with some markings, although there were those with no markings at all. There were in fact many people-certainly more than Trunks had expected to be there. They came in nearly all ages except the very old, as Goku's time had really not been so long ago.
"And how is your daughter, Krillen-san, and how your wife?"
"Are you taking an interest in my daughter, Goten-kun?"
"Only that Marron-chan and I played together as children, and I have hardly seen her for a moon."
"They are well. You know, you're not such a stupid boy, just foolhardy. And your brother wishes to see you. You had better pray Lady Videl is there and in a good mood, my friend." With that the small man moved away and brought Goten a bowl of some kind of stew, and at a moment's glance, took in Trunks.
"And you made a friend?" Many gazes at once swept over Trunks, leaving him feeling exposed and self-conscious.
"Hai, you'll feed him?" Goten inquired gracelessly through a full mouth.
A slender woman with blond hair and rather cold blue eyes brought Trunks a bowl as he sat uncertainly by Goten. Trunks thanked her in a quiet murmur and pulled back his hood. As he did so there was the sound of feminine laughter and whispers. Trunks paused and saw all eyes on him, and looked around uncertainly.
"And a pretty face you've brought, too!" One of the women cried aloud and some of them made a few rough jokes. "Are you sure of the gender?"
"Surely there can't be men who look so," one dark-haired woman said, and Trunks paused with the bowl in his lap, and the woman who had served him, seemingly the only one who took no notice of his polished looks, thrust a pair of chopsticks into his hand.
"Eat, this bounty will not be wasted." Her voice was rather deep and inflectionless, but she seemed decent enough.
"Yeah," Goten said loudly. "We all know I'm the hunk around here!"
"Hunk of young meat," someone murmured, which Trunks took to mean an unproven young man. He shrugged it and the continued looks aside as he realized he was hungry. He raised something that looked suspiciously like meat to his mouth, and chewed it slowly. It was much more coarse than he was accustomed to, naturally, but it really wasn't bad.
"The cook is to be commended," Trunks murmured, then mimicked Goten in hunger.
The blond woman acknowledged his words with a slight bow, and walked back to dole out other portions to the people around. Trunks was surprised to find his bowl eventually empty, and Goten was already patting his stomach with a big goofy smile. "If I wasn't used to so little, I would eat all that's in that pot!"
"And have your ass kicked by us," Touya said as he passed for seconds.
"I need to go to my brother. Trunks, you should meet him as well."
Trunks blinked in the firelight, and nodded after a moment, feigning a chill from the wind as he pulled his hood over his head. He followed Goten to a nondescript tent with no few markings. Some tents, the Prince noticed, had lots of colorful designs and pictures, some had none, and a few had a little writing. But the marked tents also had the writing, from what he could see by torch and firelight.
He followed Goten inside with a second's hesitation, dipping his head below the tent flap.
"O-nii-chan, I've returned," Goten began blandly.
"So you have. I'm a little surprised, but with you I shouldn't be." This man looked like Goten very much in features, and he laid aside an empty bowl at the side of the fire and brought his hands together into his lap. "And what did you accomplish?"
Goten actually snickered. "They put me in a cell... think maybe they noticed me?"
"That is not the kind of attention we want," This one said. "Goten, we want them to know we don't intend to harm them, and you- what did you do?"
"I threw rocks at the castle," Goten said matter-of-factly.
"You threw rocks at the castle," his brother said. "Son Goten-!"
"Goten?" came a voice, and the tent flap moved aside, as the woman who belonged to the voice came into the tent, standing upright to reveal herself round and very pregnant.
"Sister-in-law," Goten greeted. "Looking every inch the mother this night. Are you well?"
"No, I'm worried sick about you. How could you go off and be an idiot like that?" She whapped him soundly on the arm and Goten finally had the good grace to be abashed. "Gomen nasai," he said in a cute tone. "You mad?"
"Not when you grin like that," she said. "And you've brought a stranger into my home without informing me? Your mother would die if she saw your manners going down the drain like this."
"Well, she's dead now, so it all evens out." He received an indifferent look from his sister-in-law and a glare from his brother. "This is Trunks. We were cellmates!" Goten's tone was overly enthusiastic, so Trunks assumed he was joking. "This is my brother, Gohan, and his wife Videl." Goten seemed to think of something. "Gomen sister, I would have brought you some nice straw for fuel if my head had been screwed on straight."
"Well," she replied mildly enough, "We don't want you stealing any more than necessary; stealing is wrong. It's only sad that our next generation will have that edict dulled in their education."
"Not ours," Gohan said seriously enough, but all looked at him when they noticed his distracted tone. "What smells sweet?"
Goten glanced at Trunks, who offered him a blank look, and then shrugged at his brother but cast his eyes away.
"If my brother trusts you.. Trunks," Gohan began, "Then I suppose I shall as well. He has ways with people."
"No," Goten was saying to Videl, "It was from the floor of the cell."
"Then it was dirty, and I do not want it. But I will forgive your forgetfulness if you help me gather fuel tomorrow, as I cannot bend with this one growing." Videl did sound tired, and she stacked some wood against the side of the tent, as her husband told her gently, "Videl-chan, you didn't have to do that, I said I would."
"And what must I do all day, manage raids?" Videl inquired.
"I already had agreed to help you with fuel," Goten said.
"Have you a place to sleep?" Gohan inquired of Trunks, who had Goten answer for him in the affirmative. "Then you should go there, and the camp should go down for the night as well, in case the castle comes searching for its lost noble."
"I am no noble," Trunks answered, squaring his shoulders and lying as well as he could to Gohan. This man would not be fooled easily. His eyes narrowed on Trunks'.
"I see this one you've found is a fascinating case," Gohan murmured to his brother. To Trunks he said, "Just making sure."
"I started a fire in your tent, Goten-kun." Videl had taken up some type of needlework and only paused long enough to say this, to which Goten scolded that she shouldn't have. "Iie, I heard you had a guest."
"Small camp," Gohan said with a smile as the two turned to leave the tent. "Oyasumi nasai."
Goten brought Trunks to sleep in his own tent, laying out bedding for him. "Wakarimasen; maybe it's fate."
"Nani?" Trunks inquired. "What's fate?"
"Being at the castle tonight. Maybe you were meant to join us!" Goten's enthusiasm seemed to have no effect on Trunks, so he paused. "You don't like it here?"
For the sake of Goten, this young man with the puppy face whom he had known for an hour, maybe two at the most, Trunks was compelled to say, "It is indeed a wonder to behold," whether he would or not. Would I?
"Well then," Goten said after a moment, "Go to sleep. You have lots to learn in the morning. I have things I must do; as you might say, I help my brother..."
"The 'little prince'?" Trunks inquired.
"Well, my father was in charge here, and so Gohan became the head when he died. He's not really suited for this, but I'm too foolish, they all say," Goten admitted with a sheepish smile. "So go to Lady Videl whenever it is you wake and help her tomorrow, okay? The men are supposed to go chop trees for the communal fire's fuel, and we always replant so that there will be a forest here to shield us. We had planned replant tomorrow, so we'll be out until late in the day, and Lady Videl grows heavier with child each day."
"She's accorded a lot of respect here, isn't she?"
"Aside from the family she married into, she is quick and strong and intelligent, and is always ready to work hard uncomplaining. She has earned a great deal of respect here." Goten shrugged and kicked off his boots as he pulled his covers around him. Trunks lay back on his bed and pulled the warm fur around him and scooted a little closer to the fire, sighing slightly as he dropped off to sleep almost immediately.
After a long, long time Goten eased his coverings from around him and pulled a dipperful of water from the bucket across the room, taking a drink as he eyed his new houseguest over the rim of the dipper. What is his story, that he hasn't yet said?
Goten moved onto his bed again and stared at the other occupant of his tent. He had seen earlier, bright blue eyes and pale hair of an uncommon sort in the dim light. In the sun all would be revealed, but Goten knew as well as any that those like him were not commonly found in these parts, with fine pale skin; it all seemed to deny his story of low roots.
After a moment of thinking he moved stealthily over his blanket and across the tent until he was on his knees by Trunks' bedside, and leaned down close to his face. He was fair as the women had commented, but that could be fluke. Goten inhaled sharply. That scent of sweetness he had noticed while on his horse earlier.. it clung to him. No poor person could afford the expensive scented soaps that he had apparently used. Who are you really?
Trunks stirred in his sleep as though aware of the scrutiny.
I'll tell you this, though, stranger... Goten thought as he tried to search his memory for what exactly about this young man had made him inclined to trust him. If you betray us I'll put a sword through your gut.
Trunks woke to sunlight that streamed through the open tent flap. A face appeared after a moment, a half-familiar voice inquiring if he woke.
Where...? Ah, he began to recall as Videl's silhouette solidified into a shape he could identify as he sat up rubbing his eyes.
"I heard you were assigned to me."
"Aye, and so I was. Son-kun seems to worry greatly over you."
Videl paused. "Don't say Son-kun. Goten-kun. There are three Sons here and nothing to distinguish them but attitude. And in my case gender."
"Gomen ne," Trunks told her around a yawn. "Goten-kun speaks as if you were his sister and not his sister-in-law."
"I am, for all intents and purposes; did he neglect to tell you how close-knit everyone here is?" Videl shook her head just as suddenly as though it didn't matter. "The men have left. Your breakfast is getting cold; come before it is time for us to head out as well."
"Where do we go?" Trunks asked, following Videl obediantly.
"Today we go to the river and wash clothes. As many women then decide to take baths you may leave, but I would ask a favor of you." Videl hardly glanced at him as she served him.
"What might that be, Lady?" Trunks asked politely enough as he began to eat.
"Fuel for my fire. Goten is strong and they needed him, so if you could find any small dry twigs, straw; you know what makes fire." She moved some of the dishes aside to be cleaned by younger girls while they were gone.
"With all due respect Lady Videl, that is not a favor, that is a task, and I expected such when I agreed to help you today." Trunks quickly shoveled food in as Videl paused and smiled at him.
"So you have a silver tongue, have you?" She moved off with a smile, and Trunks figured he must have said something right. Probably just that a little fuel is nothing. He shrugged and moved to her, taking the heavier one of the two baskets she carried from her hands and balancing it on a shoulder as he followed her and a host of other young women.
"Lady Videl, you bring men?"
"He will leave," she replied.
One of the dark-haired women from last night interrupted, "I don't mind if he stays, not one bit!"
Someone called her a cheap whore. She merely shrugged. A different culture indeed! Trunks thought to himself; many of their own terms probably made little sense to them after three generations of living in the forest. He couldn't imagine it.
"Tell us your story, fair one," a young woman asked of him eagerly, and Trunks started to panic just a bit.
"Mara, that is rude." Videl seemed unconcerned as she said it, and set her basket on a rock as Trunks set the other one to join it. "Go and do as I have asked of you now," Videl told him, "and return when the sun is directly overhead, for then I will have need of you." Trunks nodded, and went away, musing to himself as he began to do as Goten's sister had asked. He had left his cloak in the tent when he saw the bright sunlight, and was now wishing he could leave his clothes totally behind as the morning became warm and a little uncomfortable. He gathered some long grasses as his sister had once shown him and braided them together, then gathered small twigs and dry grass and plants and small tinder and kindling and wrapped them in the grass rope, waiting until he had large bundles to go back to the camp and deposit them in her tent. He did this until the sun was overhead, at which time he found himself back at the river.
Videl gestured to him to help carry one of her baskets as he had done before and he did so, listening to the women talk around him. Many of them kept flirting with him, and made him highly uncomfortable. He was not used to such treatment, although Bra would come to him and say "such and such a lady thinks you're handsome,"; but it was unseemly for a princess to flirt so. He ended up laughing a lot and trying to be nice and not lead any of them on at the same time, but it grew more and more difficult.
"Enough!" A woman cried. "Will I hear no peace from you flock of hens?" Trunks recognized the woman from the night before. All at least glanced at her, but they quieted.
"Calm yourself, Juuhachigou-san," Videl said after a moment, in a polite voice. "They are excited over the fresh meat, let them be."
Trunks gulped slightly, and turned to Videl. "I don't want to be the next kill!"
There was laughter from all sides, and they all contined to the camp in good humor. Videl took her clothes into the tent as Trunks stood outside and wiped his brow. He had never actually had to be the one to do the work of gathering fuel except if he were on a trip somewhere before.
"Trunks-kun," Videl asked in a curious voice as she walked back out with a hand pressed to the small of her back. "Did all that fuel come from your efforts?"
"Ma'am?" Trunks asked in confusion. The more he spoke to Videl, the greater his urge to be respectful, as though he talked to his own mother, and her being Queen Mother. "All that in there?"
She nodded and he said, "Hai. Do you need more?"
Videl gave him a curious look and called over another woman, nearly as pregnant as she was. "Makoto-chan, I know it's been difficult for you getting fire stuffs, what with your impending birth and your bad back. Take some of ours, it seems our overzealous newcomer has fueled us out of house and home." Videl brought a bundle Trunks had made to her, and she bowed gratefully to Videl and Trunks both before taking it to her tent.
"Gomen nasai," the Prince began, but Videl cut him off.
"Never apologize for doing your task," Videl said. "Until the men get here. Then you can tell them you're sorry for being better than they are." She laughed at his expression and went to get them lunch. Trunks settled down outside the tent for this meal across from Videl and they talked of universal things, as Trunks observed the comings and goings.
Is it really so easy to fit in here? This thing of working to live isn't so hard.
Gohan blinked slightly as he came home and found a pile of dry grasses outside the tent, and inside the newcomer, Trunks, sitting with his hands up and about half a foot apart, having Videl's threads or wools or some such thing wrapped around them time and again in her efforts to organize the sewing.
"How did it go today, Gohan?" Videl asked idly, and Trunks turned his head upward to swing between them as they engaged in conversation.
"Very well. And you seem to have had a productive day today, Videl. Has this one helped you very much?" Gohan glanced curiously at Trunks, who merely blinked.
"Aye, and if I would I would keep him forever."
Gohan made a face. "You do me an injustice, wife."
"This one is fair and useful, and cute for sheer naivete. You are old, Gohan."
"Your song will change once this one is old too."
Trunks had quickly fallen into the rhythms of their odd dialect of the language of which he was familiar. It was perfectly understandable at any rate, but the way they said things had a rather roundabout feel, as things were generally direct sounding, when directly spoken, in the courts where he'd grown up. And there, if things weren't directly spoken, the tone was usually clear enough. He mused on this as he watched Videl's face, serene as it had still been when the two of them sat in silence, her quickness of eye not lost as she conversed with her husband.
"... and if you had your mushy head screwed on straight you'd wake up and notice that you're the one I married, so you can take your jealousy and stuff it into the nearest knothole, for all I care." Her endless winding of threads completed, Videl sat back and took them from Trunks' outstretched hands. He lowered his arms, feeling them ache from holding still so long.
"Not used to such work, are you?" Videl's sharp eye noticed as he stretched his arms to restore the normal feeling.
"Nay, I am used to stealing for food." Trunks was quick to reply. Gohan glanced at him in curiosity once again, but Videl's eyes narrowed as she laughed, saying only "I see. And a pretty way you say it."
"If you'll excuse me, Lady Videl, I'd like to take a walk."
"I don't anticipate needing you around... now that my big strong husband is home," she murmured with laughter and a glance at Gohan. He only frowned.
Trunks approached the fire that had been lit by the women before the men had arrived home. He stretched out his hands, palms toward the flames. The night was chilly, colder than any he could recall since he had spent so few outdoors. All of a sudden, Trunks noticed a bright red ribbon flutter to the ground in front of him. There were no running steps to retrieve it, so he stooped over and picked it up, holding it between his fingers with a noise of brief wonder.
"Kind sir! If you might, my ribbon?" A girl stood before him, still in her teens as he was, yet younger and filled with smiling good cheer. She had blond hair, one side of which was down, and dark eyes that reflected the firelight even in the late afternoon.
"Yes, of course," Trunks said as he reached out to hand it to her. Between blinks it was snatched from his hand.
Goten stood there with the ribbon in one drawn-back fist, glaring. Trunks wondered what he had done wrong, but he soon realized the glare was directed at the girl. "Shame on you, Marron, taking advantage of someone who knows not the power of feminine wiles!"
Marron looked at him with suddenly big wide eyes that turned to Trunks. "I didn't know he was that kind of person," she said, and Trunks felt far distant from 'the loop.'
"More shame to your house!" Goten insisted. "You can't tell he knows nothing of women just by watching him? And he doesn't know as I do the full extent of your wickedness!"
She stuck her tongue at him and the two engaged in a brief contest of making faces, during which Trunks became disinterested and wandered away. "Gimme my ribbon!"
"No more of your shameless flirting!" Goten insisted and had the ribbon snatched from his open palm as he turned to find Trunks warming his hands at an abandoned section of fire a rew paces away. Goten pulled off a pair of thick work gloves and warmed his hands as well in silence, next to Trunks, resisting the urge to ask him questions.
After a while, Trunks happened to glance at Goten's tensely silent face and smiled. "You know, I always, when I was younger, wanted to come out here to the woods and live at the base of the mountains. No, I wanted to live at the mountain's peak and from there touch the stars at night."
Goten paused and looked at him as though considering. It was a matter of due course that Goten would have the more practical mind; "And once you had such a star, what wouldst thou do with it?" Trunks had noticed that here people spoke formally when confused or upset.
"One does not possess a star, friend Goten." He laughed to himself for a moment.
"What makes you say that?" At Trunks' bemused look, Goten continued, with a darkened face, "If one could touch the stars one would want to possess them."
He seemed to mull over that for a moment. "Then I suppose it's for the best that a man can't touch the stars. Things such as they should not be marred by clumsy hands, at any rate." Trunks was willing to let it go with his last words.
"From the mountaintop, you believe you can touch the stars?" Goten's tone was less mocking now.
"When I was a small child, I always at least wanted to try." Trunks smiled distantly at the fire.
"Why didn't you?"
Trunks shrugged, diffident. "Life got in the way."
"Why don't you?"
"Hmm?"
"Go now. No one's stopping you. Go touch your stars." Goten thrust his hands back into his gloves and rubbed them together a bit as a silent cold wind came directly at them, and Trunks blinked at him.
"Fantasies are fantasy, and that's what that was. For what purpose would I go to the mountaintop?"
Goten shrugged and turned, walking away. Trunks looked after him, wondering if the outright denial had upset him.
After about ten minutes or so of Trunks watching the men and women around him and wondering what he'd done wrong, Goten came back to him. "We're going to your mountain."
"Nani?!"
"There are things the women need, some types of herbs that only grow high. And we can eat meat, and bring back the furs and maybe even some food if we're careful, and all the food we can carry is needed here. My brother approves."
Trunks' eyebrows shot up towards his scalp. "Gohan-san... actually agreed to that?"
"I think the idea of having me out of his hair is appealing." Goten actually laughed, and went to his tent then to think about what to take. Trunks was left by the fireside, bewildered.