Loud Silence ch.26
I'm very glad I split the chapters—it was a good choice. This chapter deserves to stand on its own and not be lumped in with the last one. Also it allowed me to add something AMAZING to this chapter (in my opinion) which had been missing.
I only received One review for the last chapter. Ouch. I must be losing my touch! Well, we'll see in this chapter whether or not Trunks has lost his. Heheheh.
And to my lone reviewer, The-lastsaiyan1991, here's a kiss: MUAH!
The steamy scene is here, just as I promised… I wanted to make it thrilling and passionate while staying true to Pan and Trunks and their characters in this story. So it's a bit crazy. If you're uncomfortable reading it, just skip what happens in the Golden Room. But I hope you won't! It's FUN! Hehe.
I'm so glad I waited until I was 22 to write this part of the story… because it wouldn't have been quite so believable if I had finished it at 13 when I started. To be explicit, things get LEMONY! Woohoo!
I truly hope you will all enjoy it!
~PanHopeNvs~
It was to be a solemn ceremony, a wedding befitting two warriors.
When Pan first entered the room and first glimpsed Trunks, she was taken aback with his appearance. He was wearing platinum-plated armour, and a ceremonial broadsword. His face registered surprise at her appearance as well—their grandparents had dressed them up so much that they barely recognized each other.
Pan could barely keep her eyes off him—the metal shone in the candlelight of the altar, and he looked like a radiant knight. He similarly could not keep from staring at her—his gaze rested on her eyes which had been lined and rendered even more captivating. He also glanced at her neck, exposed by the style of her hair, and the glistening pearls on the corseted bodice. The cloth-of-gold skirt reflected a warm gold into the candlelight. Trunks and Pan both felt the magnificence of their garments and their surroundings, and basked in the pampering love of their grandparents. A few hours ago they had slept in a dark damp cave, and now they were being married in the world's best finery. Having both been without such beauty for so long, they appreciated it and its significance more than they ever could have when they had been constantly surrounded with it.
It was a small party: merely Pan and Trunks, the Ox-King, and Mr. and Mrs. Briefs—and the priest, of course. The priest had done his job splendidly in making introductions and proclamations about marriage to set the mood. Although the ceremony was well worth repeating, the most essential words were these:
"Trunks Vegeta Briefs, wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife, wilt thou love her, and honor her, keep her and guard her, in health and in sickness, as a husband should a wife? Wilt thou forsake all others on account of her and keep thee only unto her so long as ye both shall live?"
"I will," Trunks answered.
"Pan Son, wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband, wilt thou love him, and honor him, keep him and guard him, in health and in sickness, as a wife should a husband? Wilt thou forsake all others on account of him and keep thee only unto him so long as ye both shall live?"
"I will," said Pan. Do we not already do all those things?
"Who gives this woman to this man?" asked the priest.
"I do," said the Ox-King, stepping beside Pan and taking her hand.
"Do you, Ox-King, trust your great-granddaughter Pan Son into the arms and heart of this man?"
"On behalf of her father, the wise King Gohan, and all her family, I do."
The Ox-King placed Pan's hand into the hand of the priest, who then took the hand of Trunks into his other hand.
"As I join your hands in betrothal, listen to that which I am about to say. Above you are the stars, below you are the stones, as time doth pass, remember...
"Like a stone should your love be firm, and like a star should your love be constant. Let the powers of the mind and of the intellect guide you in your marriage, let the strength of your wills bind you together, let the power of love and desire make you happy, and the strength of your dedication make you inseparable. Be intimate, have no secrets. Possess one another, yet be understanding. Have patience with one another, for storms will come, but they will pass quickly."
Pan and Trunks kept their faces serious and formal, but their eyes twinkled at each other with private knowledge. They could see each others' thoughts: I hope the next storms that come shall be the figurative ones he speaks of, and, considering what we've been through, marriage should be a breeze.
The repetition of vows was solemnly exchanged, and rings (generously donated by the grandparents) were placed on the appropriate fingers. Pan and Trunks then knelt at the altar as the priest spoke a few words of prayer and blessing over them. At last he concluded:
"By the power vested in me by the Guardians of the Earth and the municipality of Yamayake, I now pronounce you husband and wife. May your love endure so that its flame remains a guiding light unto you."
The whole ceremony bore an air of reverence. Everyone stood with erect and stately postures and austere looks on their faces. It was a room filled with Kings and Queens of many generations.
The priest knew this, and he could feel the overwhelming significance of the moment. He knew that something historical was occurring with every word that he read—he felt it in the air. He was intimidated by the presence of such powerful people, although he tried not to show it.
What he also felt, however, was the genuine love and excitement radiating from the beautiful young couple standing before him (of course, Trunks did look as young as Pan) and the unbreakable bonds of familial devotion that they shared with their grandparents.
The wedding of course, was a formality. Pan felt that from the moment she had said 'yes' she had already as good as signed the marriage contract. That was simple honour. But tradition required witnesses and ceremony and on this occasion tradition was not so wrong: there was something special about all of this.
When the ceremony was over, the priest wished them well, bowed, and left the chapel. The grandparents told them that they were to be separated again—Pan was to go to the Golden Room and "be prepared" for Trunks. Before this they requested a moment of privacy and retreated to a corner of the chapel.
"Did that really just happen?" Pan asked breathlessly. It had all been so surreal and hazy, her voice and body had been out of her control, almost distant.
"It certainly did happen, Mrs. Briefs," said Trunks with a sly smile, and he reached around her, unfastening her necklace and removing it.
"What are you doing that for?" she asked, feeling suddenly very bare without her necklace. It had not left her neck since it last touched Goten's fingers.
He swung the pendant to and fro, gazing at her with an ardent look in his eyes, "We do not need an audience for what we shall do tonight."
She smiled at his meaning, poking his armour playfully, but a cold chill about her shoulders distracted her. The chill had an abnormal quality about it that was more than just cold and she knew something was wrong instinctively. She had been watching Trunks' face and she saw a look of horror come into his eyes as he looked just beyond her. He had stopped swinging the necklace, and he was frozen.
The chill now pervaded right into her chest. Pan moved her fingers down to grasp the hilt of the scimitar in her hand. Before she could turn around to see who or what had disturbed Trunks she heard that voice:
"She must take your full name if she is to be your wife. Your name is Trunks Vegeta Briefs."
It was the voice of her nightmares. Pan drew the scimitar and pivoted in an instant, feeling her neck and back break out into a cold sweat of fear. The moisture felt clammy between her skin and the fabric of the wedding dress and veil. She had automatically assumed a fighting stance, and the sword was held out firmly in both hands. Her body was ready, aware—but her mind was in a frenzy of panic.
Her eyes locked with his, both of them dark and deadly.
"You've already killed me once, girl. I'm as dead as a man can be. What is the purpose of that sword?"
"What is YOUR purpose for being here, Vegeta? Have you come to torment me again? Have you come to finally kill me? Ran out of creative ways to attempt it? You've even tried to kill him!" she gestured behind her at Trunks, her voice shaking, becoming louder and hysterical, "Well, I won't let you. Do your worst! Go ahead. I won't give you the pleasure of seeing me beg for mercy. I will fight you until my last breath. You will never hurt us again."
She reached up with one hand and ripped the veil from around her shoulders to increase her mobility. She cast the veil aside and placed that hand back on her weapon. The sinews in both of her arms were taut, and the muscles in her neck were tensed. Everyone in the room knew she was deadly serious.
There was a change in Vegeta's eyes as he looked at her. He had not budged from the place where he had stood upon appearing; neither had he made any offensive movements. He had only studied Trunks with great interest, and now he thoroughly observed Pan.
"My wife wore that dress at our wedding," he said, frowning. He noticed Bulma's parents in the room, and the decorations, the atmosphere... the memories hit him like boulder in the gut.
"Why are you here, father?" asked Trunks. His pain was evident on his face—Pan's accusations had not been challenged. He had suspected Vegeta's hand in their troubles, but he had not understood much about the otherworld. Now he knew a little more about the extent of what was possible, and it all made sense. He vividly remembered Vegeta's apparition convincing him to kill Pan that night in the ship. Vegeta had wanted Pan dead... and when Trunks had failed, he had sent that illness as punishment, and more...
He felt some anger, but the pain and the need to defend Pan was stronger... if anything should happen... With these two volatile chemicals... there was bound to be an explosion. Trunks took a step towards his new wife and his father.
Pan didn't turn around but she heard Trunks advance and she put an arm out to stop him, keeping him behind her and her outstretched weapon, protecting him.
"Do not go near him, Trunks," she whispered, then she raised her voice louder, "Grandpapa! Mr. and Mrs. Briefs! Get out of the room, quickly."
She felt as though there was cold metal inside of her... If I must die this day, so be it.
"I'm not leaving you, Pan-chan," said the Ox-King bravely, although the sight of Vegeta struck fear in him. The Briefs also stood by him.
"Don't be daft," said Vegeta, "What would I want with those old fools?"
Trunks turned to their grandparents, "Listen to Pan. Leave the room."
The three of them left hesitantly, casting worried glances back at the newlyweds.
Vegeta stared intently at his son and his bride, observing the emotions and thoughts that played through both of their minds.
"I am not here to hurt either of you," he seemed to speak through gritted teeth; the words seemed to leave his mouth reluctantly, "I am here to... bless your union."
Trunks was certain that he had misheard. He saw Pan grow even tenser, if that was possible.
Vegeta continued on to explain his words:
"Pan, you are a true saiya-jin warrior... you have defeated your enemies, including some rather formidable ones, and conquered every obstacle I could throw at you. You are worthy of my son."
Is he implying that this was all some kind of test? She thought to herself in disbelief.
He continued in his speech, "I give this union my blessing, on one condition: You must honour the dead, and honour our fallen saiya-jin race of which you are both a part. You must take my name... you shall become Pan Vegeta Briefs."
Pan felt horror flow through her—was he in earnest? Why would I want his blessing? It would be barely enough to have the removal of his curses! Was he going to wait until she accepted his name out of respect and then turn around and stab her? Was this some kind of strategy? Nonetheless, his words took some of the fight out of her, and her psychological weakness began to reach her body. Her hands began to shake.
Trunks felt Pan's hand which had been pushing against his chest lose some of its power, and he immediately grasped her wrist. He tried to pull her away from Vegeta, but she was still firmly down in her battle stance. He moved toward her and put his arm around her waist, trying to soothe her.
"Pan," he said softly, coaxing her. She did not look at him; she was transfixed on Vegeta's eyes and digesting his words. She looked as though she had gone into apoplectic shock. He moved his hand slowly to her outstretched arm and tried to pry the scimitar from her fingers, which were as stiff as wood.
"Panny," he whispered again, and this time she did look at him, with wide eyes. He took the sword from her hand and put it back in its sheath at her side. Holding her body close to his, he drew her away from his father a few steps, so that if anything happened there was a fraction of a second more of a time barrier for him to act.
He looked at her with reassurance willing her mentally to accept regardless of what she really thought. Yet he knew Pan... she would only say the truth. He asked, "What do you think? Will you take the name? His name?"
There were many things she wanted to say, many of them inappropriate and hateful. She looked from Trunks back to Vegeta, trying to discern if he were serious. Her eyes settled again on Trunks and she saw what this meant to him... this man was still his father after all. She knew what she had to do:
"Yes, I will take the name. It is your name after all, and he is right... it is part of our heritage."
Trunks felt relief course through him... and also pride. If his father had really meant what he said... then this visit was actually a good thing. He turned to look at Vegeta. He saw many things in his face; he saw the father who he had spent his whole life trying to please and attain a kind word from, he saw the villain who had been trying to kill the woman who was now his wife since she had gasped her first breath, and he saw...
Well, mostly he saw a tired old man.
There was torment and agony evident in every line of his face, in every muscle of his body. Only Trunks, who knew Vegeta well, could see this. The son was torn between hatred and compassion for his father.
"I am glad," said Vegeta sarcastically, "That she chose to take the name instead of trying to kill me again—it would have been a joke to watch her fight in that outfit. Bulma could hardly move in it."
Pan's hand had begun to move towards the weapon again because of the words kill and fight leaving Vegeta's lips, but Trunks restrained her. He hardly understood how he could restrain himself—his emotions were going haywire.
Vegeta looked at Trunks squarely, "And speaking of Bulma... since I probably will never see her again, please give her a message for me. I know you two are in contact with her..."
Vegeta steadied himself—this was the real reason he had taken the opportunity to come here—he spoke loudly and clearly, "Tell her... that I am sorry, and I was wrong."
Anger washed over Trunks. This was supposed to be a sufficient apology to his mother for all those years? It sounded as though he regretted something forgivable, like forgetting a birthday or making a poor investment. Well, it would have sounded like that coming from anyone but Vegeta.
"I will tell her... thank you for your visit father, but as I was saying before you interrupted us, we no longer need your audience!" Trunks was seething, and he promptly placed the necklace he had been holding within his fist into his vestments.
Vegeta's image faded from the room. As Trunks had suspected—it was his contact with the necklace that had allowed his father to materialize.
As soon as his father was gone, he pulled Pan against him and held her tightly. He knew that he wasn't the softest thing to hold in this armour, but it was the only thing he could think of doing. She welcomed his embrace and rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. They stayed like this for a few moments.
He rubbed his hand up and down her back, and when he felt the exposed skin above her wedding dress he felt how cold and damp it was. The phantasm had really affected her.
"I hope that didn't ruin your day, Pan-chan..."
"No. It was dreadfully stressful, and it might have ruined any other day," said Pan, leaning back to look at him with a weak smile, "But it couldn't ruin this one. It's our wedding day."
Inwardly she thought, it could have been worse. He could have appeared when the priest asked for objections. He actually complimented me. Vegeta said I was worthy of marrying his son. Now I've seen everything.
Trunks put a hand on her shoulder, massaging her skin gently, "Listen... I know our grandparents are making a fuss about us and this whole 'Golden Room' business... but I understand if tonight, after this, you don't feel like consummat..."
She smiled and cut him off, putting a finger on his lips... she intended to prove to him she had more strength of mind than she felt, "Trunks—this was just a reminder that it's a miracle I lived to see my wedding night. I fully intend to enjoy it, and I hope you will cooperate in helping me do so. You might as well, considering I can guarantee you that I will never smell this good again."
"You do smell wonderful," he laughed, and promptly put his face against her neck, inhaling. He was glad that she was in good spirits—they would still have a memorable night, he would make sure of that. He smiled at her teasingly, "But my dad was right about one thing."
"What's that?" asked Pan in surprise.
"That it would have been funny to see you fight him in this wedding dress. And with... a diamond crown on your head," His shoulders moved with his laughter and she promptly punched him in the stomach, forgetting that he was wearing armour.
"Well, you would have looked equally as comical coming to my rescue in this platinum-plated armour," she retorted, picking up her veil and using it to polish his chest. She was sure he would have come to her rescue if Vegeta had attacked her... they were married now, and that bond was just as strong as the one between parent and child, wasn't it?
"Hey, it looks great on me! It isn't very useful of course, and neither is your mile-wide skirt... but this was supposed to be a wedding, not a battle," he said smiling. Although he made fun of the situation, he inwardly admitted that she had never looked more beautiful to him than when she had drawn that five hundred year old scimitar and spun around into a battle stance in a fifty-pound cloth-of-gold skirt. Even though the target had been his dead father, she had been protecting those in the room, it had been instinct. My little warrior woman!
"Oh, Trunks... with us everything is a battle. Let's go tell the grandparents that we're alive," she said, moving to the door of the chapel. When she opened it, they were all standing not too far from the door, with worried looks on their faces. Mrs. Briefs was in tears, of course, and sobbing into husband's chest.
"When we told you to leave the room we meant run as far away as you can!" said Trunks bursting into laughter—he didn't know why he felt so jovial considering the tense circumstances, "But everything is alright—he's gone.
"I never thought I'd see that man again..." Mrs. Briefs said, blowing her nose into her handkerchief.
"I'm sorry to have brought violence into your city, Grandpapa," Pan tried to speak respectfully, but she was shaken, "I don't know what came over me; I shouldn't have drawn the sword."
"I know exactly what came over you, and it was perfectly natural. That's not the first time the sword has been drawn at a wedding!" the Ox-King smiled, "But those stories are for another time. It's getting late and you two should be in bed."
Goku was returning from training outdoors on the Kai's planet when he noticed a familiar person not far away. His eyes opened wide.
"Master Roshi!" he called, running along the green meadow toward his old master, "I didn't know you were dead!"
The old man chuckled, "Oh, I'm not dead! I'm just visiting."
"Really? Great! It's wonderful to see you," Goku shook the turtle hermit's hand, "I was just on my way to a wedding. Well, to observe a wedding anyway. It's better because you don't have to put on something fancy. Want to come?"
"I heard there was something good on the Earth-tube, I wouldn't miss it!"
The two men headed back to King Kai's castle where a small gathering sat on the lawn observing the window in the sky.
"I can't believe they're getting married without us," said Videl sadly.
"It's not exactly without us—we're right here!" said Bra cheerfully. She shouted up at the window as though the couple could hear them, "Pan-chan! You're going to be my little sister! Woohoo!"
Goten whispered to his brother, "It's the hormones; she's either deliriously happy or morbidly depressed. I can't win!"
Gohan would normally have reassured his brother, but he could only nod. His eyes were transfixed on the terrestrial wedding.
I wonder if she'll be happy with him, he thought to himself, I wonder if she's doing the right thing. It's rather rushed. Why didn't they wait until they had found the dragonball and wished us back?
"Trunks looks so handsome in that suit of armour—platinum always looked good on him. I am so glad my mother took care of his hair!" said Bulma with a contented sigh, "He looked positively savage—honestly, proposing to Pan by a fire with his long unkempt hair. He could have been a caveman for all his civility. It's a wonder she said yes."
"I think it was rather romantic," said Videl, "I don't think civility would have suited Pan better. She spent most of her life romping about with the boys in the great outdoors."
"Shhh, this is my favourite part!" said Chi-Chi. She was delighted that her father was giving Pan away. If she couldn't be there, she wanted to live vicariously through him.
Above you are the stars, below you are the stones, as time doth pass, remember...
Everyone in heaven remarked afterward on what a lovely ceremony it was. And how lucky that Pan and Trunks had found the missing family members! Gohan inwardly thought that it was a bit presumptuous of his grandfather to give Pan away on his behalf… but in all honesty, it had been the right thing to do. Who could he fool? He loved his little girl and saw the light of gladness in her eyes.
Suddenly, the view from the window in the sky began to distort. The image went way off to one side and way off to another, before the window went very dark.
The Z-fighters in heaven all grew hushed as they saw Pan's smiling face become fearful as a dark figure materialized behind her.
Bulma reached beside her and grabbed Chi-Chi's hand. She could feel him.
A ripple of terror went over them as Pan drew her sword, and Gohan stood up in rage at Vegeta. Goku quickly came to his son's side and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"This is a wedding… how dare he!" cried Videl in anger.
When Vegeta spoke of his blessing, Bulma gasped in surprise. This couldn't be right… this was not like her husband.
Gohan grumbled when Pan accepted the name, "Pan SON Vegeta-Briefs, if you must! You're still my daughter!"
But when Vegeta made his apology to Bulma… she heard every word coming directly from his mouth. She squeezed Chi-Chi's hand for support and shut her eyes tightly.
Chi-Chi moved to her friend and hugged her to comfort her nerves speaking gently, "Shhhh, it's alright."
"Vegeta… he said…" Bulma was fighting back tears.
"I know, dear," Chi-Chi tried to give her friend strength in the hug, "He means to say that he loves you too. He crossed through dimensions specifically to get that message to you, to make amends."
Bulma did let her tears fall then, only you could interpret that, Chi.
When the screen went blank, mumbles and mutters broke out among the Z-team. They could only hope the severed connection meant Vegeta could no longer bother the children as well—they hoped for the safety of their relations.
"Hell and DAMNATION!" said Master Roshi, banging his walking staff on the ground, "And I came all this way to see the show!"
"You mean to say… that you're here just to watch Pan and Trunks on their wedding night?" asked Bra in shock.
"Yes, my sister wouldn't let me watch it on the crystal ball, so I decided to take a little trip to visit you all here with the Kai."
"You mean, you're not even dead?" asked Videl in horror.
"Of course not. I've lived for hundreds of years, why would I die now all of a sudden?"
"So… you… came here… to watch… my daughter…" Gohan was advancing on Master Roshi slowly.
"Of cour... eh. Uh. Oh, boy, I'd better run."
Master Roshi took off across King Kai's planet at top speed, followed closely by an enraged Gohan—intent on taking his anger at Trunks and Vegeta out on someone.
"What a pervert!" shouted Bra, who would have chased him too if not for her growing stomach. She instead settled for throwing an apple at him as he passed her, hitting him squarely on the head. Videl saw the wisdom in this course of action, and she brought various edible throwables to Bra's side. The two of them practiced their aim together. Goten did not participate, for he could not part with his food in such a wasteful manner—and in truth, he kind of understood why Roshi had been eager to see Trunks and Pan on their wedding night. He had been looking forward to it too!
Goku laughed at the antics, failing to see the severity of the situation. As the chase continued Master Roshi circled the small planet a few times, passing by a chuckling Goku and being pelted by random items of various nutritional value.
The Golden Room was magnificent—and of course it would be. There were crystal vases of red roses placed all over the room for scent and atmosphere, and the walls, of course, were painted golden. The bed was oaken and polished to a fine sheen—it had a beautiful red canopy hanging over it. The maidens had helped Pan out of the wedding dress, freshened her up again and let down her hair. They had placed more comfortable garments on her, and bid her wait for them to call Trunks.
Pan paced nervously up and down the room. She still felt naked without her necklace… even though family had given her away at the ceremony, and approved of her decisions… she knew that she was now a woman entering adulthood and that certain steps would have to be made on her own. And she did feel completely on her own.
Seeing Vegeta had not helped her nerves… but she must fully regain composure before Trunks arrived. She stopped pacing at the corner of the bed, and put her arms on the bedpost, leaning her weight on it for a moment. She calmed her breathing and closed her eyes.
Thoughts of Trunks filled her mind… she remembered the first time he had kissed her in the cave, and how intense it had been to make her lose control. If it were not for that scar to bring her back to awareness, he would have continued to undress her and taken her right there in that underground haven. She had never felt such passion before, such desire… and as inexperienced as she was, she had supposed that she was even more vulnerable to his touch. She remembered by the waterfall... when she had discovered her power over him and his tail. The memory brought a smile to her face. Again, if she had not stopped him, he would have made love to her there—he had told her as much.
Those events seemed so far away from where they now were—heavens, a few weeks and a few brushes with death had done away with that insecure and childish girl inside of her. She could face herself, and her deepest wishes—she knew that she yearned for him. She needed him. And given the opportunity to have him in a dignified and appropriate manner… how could she not accept this? This connection was much more than physical… but it needed to be consummated, to be given physical expression.
She remembered when he had kissed her on the beach. That wasn't a goodbye kiss, dear one. His kiss had kept her alive, given her a reason to fight her way back to this world from the in-between realms of oblivion. Yes… it was more than physical. She knew they shared a powerful love.
"Pan-chan..." Trunks called, entering the room slowly. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. His face looked concerned for her. He had been changed into different garments as well, and was now wearing an embroidered tunic.
He saw her leaning against the bedpost, and wondered if she was apprehensive about the night. The ladies had finished "preparing her" although he didn't know what preparation she needed—she had looked lovely at the wedding.
She turned and took a step toward him, hoping he would be pleased with the effort the ladies had put into her. The new garments she wore were equally as beautiful as the wedding dress, but comfortable and lighter for sleeping. A cloth-of-gold robe hung around her shoulders, draping her body in its royal finery. Beneath it, fabric of ivory coloured silk organza and lace cascaded down to her toes. She gazed at him, waiting for his reaction.
His delicate senses picked up her scent first, even from across the room. He could detect the fragrance of jasmine that had been infused into her skin. His eyes roamed over her, and a small desire began to stir inside him. He could scarcely believe that this divine creature belonged to him... was this, in truth, his little Pan? Her mass of rich black hair had been styled into a wealth of soft curls which framed her face and shoulders, giving her an air of sublime femininity. The diamond tiara from the wedding still crowned her. She could have been a painting... dare he believe that she was real, she was flesh?
She was a princess in her own right, he could see this now. He could not have chosen any woman more precious. Now she stood before him, not in drab male's clothing, covered in sweat and dirt from traveling, but revealing herself as she really was. She was a vision. All those times he had taken liberties with her body, all those times he had nearly given in to the temptations of low carnal urges... if he had not maintained discipline, he would have destroyed this moment.
This pure and unadulterated moment of gazing upon his sweet young wife, who stood waiting for him, and not even truly knowing what she was waiting for. Her mind was a blank slate, a tabula rasa, just as her body had no knowledge of what was to occur, except for the natural instinctual desires that he knew she possessed. The passion he knew he could awaken in her. Despite her innocence, she looked at him with no apprehension, only with trust. Pride and love swelled within him. This was his due reward for patience.
A familiar smile came to her eyes and lips... she had observed his approval. She saw the emotions play over his face. She saw the warmth and adoration in his gaze. But yet he stood so far! Why was he holding back? Why would he not approach her, and make her feel the way he had all those times before... but this time, completely? Now that she was legitimately his, he had become inhibited!
Pan yearned to step closer to him, to encourage him. She was filled with curiosity and excitement and wished to learn all that he could teach her, to explore a new realm. But Trunks looked at her as though he hardly knew her! It must be these fine garments, the colour added to her eyes and lips… the perfume and the styled hair. She at once felt uncomfortable in the regal clothing—she wanted him to treat her in the warm and intimate manner which he always used before. She wished she could rip all of the finery away and scream, Trunks, it's me! …And why not?
She moved her hands to her bosom, and undid the tassel which secured the cloth-of-gold robe, pulling the fabric over her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor around her, exposing the translucent organza and lace gown which hugged her body beneath it. She looked into his eyes, and the fire she saw there set her own insides ablaze with desire before he had even touched her.
"Trunks," she said softly, "I cannot wait another moment. Will you not come to me?"
He crossed the room in a single instant, and lifted and placed her upon the curtained bed in another. He held her hands up above her head as though she were his prisoner, and captured her lips in a long deep kiss.
He held his face close to hers so that their noses touched, "Do you know what you've gotten yourself into, you little devil?"
She smiled at him. He felt something move around his lower back... but it wasn't her hands... he was holding them! He felt his lower body pulled down roughly against hers, before realizing that it was her tail that did it. His male hardness throbbed against the warmth of her body with a yearning he fought to control—especially now that he knew didn't have to. Pan made his situation worse by moving her body against his, feeling him through the thin fabric of her dress and his clothing
"I'm hoping that I've just gotten into bed with my powerful saiya-jin husband," she said sweetly, using her tail to caress and entwine with his.
He groaned in pleasure, unable to believe that she was challenging him! His tail being caressed nearly sent him over the edge of abandon, especially since it was with her tail. His breathing became ragged and deep. This was an altogether new experience for him as well, and he fought to maintain a shred of patience. No human woman could have understood the delicate sensations felt by a tail... and just his luck! The only female saiya-jin born on the earth (other than his sister) and he had fallen in love with her. The Gods were kind—he groaned again as her tail encircled and gently squeezed his—or they were merciless and sadistic! How could he bear this?
She did not even know what she did—she looked like she was playing with him, taking amusement from the contortions of his face, and his vocal expressions. Or maybe she did know… wasn't she feeling the same from her tail?
He released her hands from where he held them captive to see what she would do with them. They immediately went around his neck and pulled his face down to hers for a soft, deep kiss. She continued to move her body against his, seeking his warmth and further arousing his inflamed manhood. His blood was already boiling, his breathing was fast, and his body was ready for her... he wanted to take her, to thrust deep inside of her, he wanted to show her that she shouldn't tease him like this.
But it was their wedding night. It was going to be slow, and as deliciously painful for her as it was for him—he would make her writhe and moan with desire, and say his name involuntarily a dozen times before he demonstrated to her just how powerful a saiya-jin she had married. He would show her that she could not challenge him and feign the upper hand, not in this situation—he would certainly win.
After kissing her lips again, he moved down to her neck. His hand moved along her thigh, slipping under her dress to grasp the warm flesh of her thigh and to pull her closer. She seemed pleased with the aggression he was showing, and she allowed him to wrap her leg around him. The dress had a wide skirt so it did not restrict her movement too much.
One of his hands moved to cup her breast, but just as it had brushed her nipple he gripped the expensive organza fabric of her nightgown in his hand and tore the entire thing off her in one smooth movement. He looked down at her exposed body and was amazed: it must be from all the training she has done in her lifetime. Her body is perfect… the shape, the curves, the muscles… she is all woman, all saiyan, pure strength and sensuality.
She had gasped at first, and then laughed in delight, but her laughter died quickly when he engulfed her nipple with his lips and begun to administer tiny chimes of pleasure which rang throughout her whole body. She arched her back slightly, forgetting herself and putting her hands through his hair.
"Trunks..." she moaned, pushing her body against his.
One, he counted in his mind, continuing his labour. As his lips and tongue tortured her, his hand moved up her thigh. He felt her writhing under him.
The skin of her breasts was extremely sensitive to his touch, and she felt as though daggers of pleasure were piercing her low in her stomach. In womanly parts that had never been awakened. The pleasure was so strong that it began to hurt.
He withdrew his lips, and moved to the other breast, and the sensations intensified tenfold. Years of training had rendered her skin very receptive to her environment—to subtle changes in the air, to sensing nearby movement. So when her skin was actually touched, especially in places that were never touched, it sent her spiraling into ecstasy.
She was soft clay, mere putty in his hands and mouth as he toyed and teased her. His hand on her upper thigh had begun to lightly stroke her delicate flesh there administrating pleasures which made her body shudder fervently.
When his teeth gently bit down on her nipple she gripped his arms forcefully, crying out his name.
Two, he counted, moving down to her stomach, trailing light kisses along her bellybutton, and he fondly kissed her scars. Her stomach rose and fell with her breathing, which had increased in depth. She was barely aware of the world around her, of anything except for Trunks and what he was doing. He freed his tail from hers and moved his weight onto his knees so he had the freedom of his hands.
He grasped her hips, right at the hipbones, and felt for a pressure point that he knew of and began to knead it firmly. He heard her intake air sharply as her nerves became over stimulated, and he smiled as her eyes settled on him, a perplexed look in them.
"Trunks," she whispered between ragged breaths, "What… is that?"
I suppose I will count that as three. "It's a variation on a pressure point technique used to disable an opponent with excruciating pain—you see, pain and pleasure are not so different."
"True," she said, gasping. The pressure at her hip bones made her feel like explosions of colour were occurring from the tips of her toes to her fingertips—but concentrated on the centre of her body between her hips. It tickled and caressed her from the inside, and she used all her composure to keep from crying out to show how it felt.
"One must be…" Pan began, trying to calm her body as Trunks assaulted it with his pleasurable attack, "One must be… vulnerable… in order to feel both pain… and pleasure."
Trunks frowned, "If you're able to form such a coherent thought then I'm obviously not doing my job right! I'll have to try harder."
"No! Trunks!" she cried, grabbing his hands before they assaulted her more, "Please don't do anything worse than that."
Four, he counted, definitely four!
"I won't do worse…" he said, leaning forward to kiss her lips again, "I'll do better, my love."
Although she clutched him to her, he broke free and moved back down her body, allowing his warm breath to tickle her breasts, as well as his hair to glide over them. He moved down immediately to kiss her bellybutton, and then kissed the soft skin just below it—the centre of all her body's energy. He breathed warmth into her stomach, and it flooded through her—relaxing and calming.
Oh my… he knows so much about the body, thought Pan. It seems to me he's adjusting a lot of techniques from fighting…
Trunks had purposely relaxed her for what should come next. He moved his hand behind her knee and bent the leg so that it brought her knee up—then he kissed the inside of her leg at her knee. He deftly moved between her legs, and pushed them further apart, running his tongue along the inside of her thigh.
She moaned, feeling the sensations seize her powerfully. She wanted him to stop playing with her now… She fought against the spell she was under.
"Trunks!" she protested, sitting upright and moving back, away from him, "What are you doing?"
"What does it feel like I'm doing, Pan? I'm pleasuring you," he said, crawling toward her with hungry eyes. Five, he recorded internally, we're getting there.
"No, you're teasing me!" she accused, moving back until her back was against the headboard, and she was sitting on the pillow. She knew she had to turn the tables. He was playing some kind of game with her, she knew it.
Smiling coyly, Pan waited until Trunks had nearly cornered her against the headboard before she pounced on him, pushing him back onto the bed.
"Tigress!" he proclaimed, running his hands slowly down her back.
"Our grandparents are expecting you to make love to me. Why don't you stop playing games and do your job?" she complained playfully, "Here, let me help you."
She kissed his cheek, very close to his lips, as she grasped handfuls of the fabric of his tunic, and before he could protest, she sat up and ripped it off him as he had done to her nightgown. She smiled and leaned down so that her breasts were pressed against his bare chest.
"We must both be naked for this to work, as far as I know," she whispered into his ear.
Trunks swallowed back his growing lust at her words, her breath tickling his ear, and worst of all, those warm breasts pressed against him. He couldn't last much longer in this state. What's the count again? Five?
He moved his hands along her back and begun to traces small circles on her skin, knowing a surefire way that he could regain control from her. His hands kept moving lower until he brushed her tail. He felt her body jerk in surprise. With both hands he rubbed the sides of her tail before he grasped it and stroked along its length.
Her body went slack on top of him, and her fingers clutched his shoulders. "Trunks…" she whispered. She shuddered at what his hands were doing.
Her warm breath was quickening, and the sound and feel of it against his skin was making his blood race. He kissed her cheek, her lips, her nose. The pressure of her body on top of him didn't help his composure as he felt her hips move against his. He almost forgot to keep count… Six, he thought, Dende, I'm not going to last until twelve.
He breathed in the scent of her curled hair, noticing that she still had the diamond crown on. He smiled—she was way too distracted to notice, and he didn't mind as long as it didn't poke his eye out once they really began… what on earth?
Pan sat up again and began to fumble with his pants, tugging them down, along with his underwear. He laughed at her rush, and she looked at him furiously, "You're laughing! You've been toying with me!"
"You started this, love," he said, holding up his hands in protest, "But I'm not toying with you. I only laughed because you're so adorable. I have been taking my time because I want to make sure that you're ready…"
She disposed of his remaining garments triumphantly by chucking them across the room, then moved back on top of him, kissing his lips sweetly, "I'm ready, Trunks, I'm ready. Please… make love to me."
The contact of her body against his now fully exposed skin destroyed his restraint, but it was the pleading look in her eyes that drove him wild. He grabbed her forcefully and rolled her to the side of him, moving on top of her and looking at her with ravenous eyes. He removed the crown from her head and tossed it aside—the last hypothetical thing between them.
She could feel his hardness throbbing between her legs, and it scared her and excited her simultaneously. Her need for him was growing more painful, and she yearned for him to fill that longing. She kissed him again, moving her arms around him, encouraging him.
He was trying to regain control, but his head was spinning. He growled, "Dende, Pan, I want you!"
"Well, I'm your wife, take me."
"It will hurt…"
She laughed, "Is that what you're concerned about? It's me Trunks! I can handle a little pain."
That was all the encouragement he needed. He moved to her entrance, the contact driving him crazy. He tried to move inside her. It wouldn't work- her muscles were clenched.
"Pan-chan… you have to relax." Even if she said she was ready, even if she acted tough, her body's tension betrayed her apprehension. He knew then that it was too late… he couldn't control himself when he was so close. He tried to be gentle, to prod her to accept him slowly, but he couldn't regain mastery of his powerful saiya-jin urge. A noise that could only be called a roar left his throat.
He forced his way inside of her with a powerful thrust, and she gasped out in pain. Her insides shattered into a thousand pieces—it was as though he had pierced the life of her, pierced her soul, and she would be changed for-ever. She didn't have a moment to adjust to the new sensation, for he continued pounding her body again and again. Instinct had taken over him and he couldn't stop. Pan cried out and then she screamed as pain violently mixed with pleasure.
When she could regain a fraction of her senses and stop seeing a kaleidoscope of colours, she looked into his eyes. He stared at her with passionate ferocity as he held her, moving within her, joining with her. She had never felt anything like this. Her love for him overwhelmed her, emotions mixing with the physical sensations.
"Trunks…" she whispered, tightening her arms around his back. He answered her with a hungry kiss, and she returned it with equal fervour. Before long she felt his body tremble, and felt him throbbing inside of her… she felt his carnal energy slip away, back deep inside him from whence it came.
He collapsed, panting against her, and she stroked his hair tenderly.
"Pan, I'm sorry…"
"Shh. It didn't hurt."
He lifted his body from hers for a millisecond to make a funny face at her, to let her know that her lie was obvious, before collapsing again against her. She could not suppress a giggle at that face and at how instantaneously exhausted he had become!
Impressions of the new experience filled her mind, but mostly a sense of contentment just to hold him, and to know that she had given him pleasure. Half of the experience was seeing how powerfully Trunks had been affected… they had shared a truly intimate moment; she had witnessed the saiyan animal inside him taking over. It was thrilling, but yet so comfortable and familiar to her.
She had never felt so satiated… so complete. She was married, she was mated, and she was merry— because she would be allowed to hold Trunks in her arms like this every night for the rest of her life.
When they fell asleep, they were still joined.
And, if you can imagine it possible, they both won this battle.
YAY! After 25 chapters and 9 years of waiting… YAY! –see, so if I only get one review, at least I'll have my own review to console me. Hahaha.
I gave it careful thought whether I wanted them to be intimate before they were married, or after… I know that in the fanfiction world they hardly EVER get married first… even in Waiting by the Noseless Wonder (everyone's all time favourite, right?) they gave into their desires and they were intimate before they were married—one of the main issues of the story. Saiyans of course, are very physical creatures, and it makes perfect sense that they would be unable to wait, but I wanted this to be a manner of reconciliation between them… a kind of respect which Trunks showed to Pan by offering his commitment first.
Besides, it's a Medieval story! The thrill of marriage and a virgin on the wedding night is so exciting. I think the one thing that all T/P writers and readers can agree on is that Trunks would have slept with several women before Pan, but Trunks should be Pan's first and only. *sigh* It's so romantic. Why can't real life work like this? Why can't all of us girls get our very own Trunks, WHY?
I can't believe I wrote some of that last part at my desk at work. I'm so ashamed.
But if you'd review you'll make it worth me risking my job in the name of T/P! *puppy eyes* Pleaseee.