Chapter 44. Choices

Dust swirled before his feet as Vegeta ran through darkened corridor after corridor, tackling several staircases in his climb to the highest levels of the palace. His fury intensified with the glimpses he caught of the wretched place when he tore through and it was so clear in his mind now that he couldn't believe it had eluded him before. The man his father had been long ago was not the man that ruled here. It was not the man Akane spoke so impassioned of, the man she loved so much that it blinded her for his deeds. Vegeta understood that he had come to judge his father by Akane's feelings and thoughts because she had altered his own with her stories, her excuses for his mistakes and the deranged admiration for him that was so strong in her that he had been affected by it. And he had wanted his memories altered, wanted to believe his father was a better man.

Vegeta wasn't blinded anymore. Not by Akane's feelings and not by his own hopeful wishes. He remembered how it had really been when he saw those men at the gates, the emptied city, the suffering and the decay. He remembered what he had always known, that his father had never been the same after the death of the Queen. That the King had become hungry for power as he could find no other way of dealing with his grief and that he sentenced his people to death when he sought after a top position in the WTO.

As he reached the higher levels of the palace, nearer to where the King resided, Vegeta found that the place was not wholy deserted after all. Here the marble floors were somewhat tended to. There was less dust to be found in these halls, though the floors didn't shine as they had done in the time he lived here. There was as little light here as there had been on the lower levels. Scattered around the hallways he found miserable looking servants continuing their every day duties, but it seemed they themselves didn't understand why they were still there. Their chores were executed out of habit rather than to keep the place running. This was prominent in the forsaken ambiance the palace breathed and in the dead looks in their eyes.

The servants didn't bother to take note of Vegeta as he came running through. His pace slackened because he didn't want to knock one of them over in his way. They were clearly not about to move out of his path and indeed one very old, emaciated looking woman mopped the floor about his feet as if he was one of the pedestals on which stood vases that used to bear flowers but were now as empty as the halls they decorated. Vegeta looked down to the old woman's crooked bony shoulders, too surprised to address this oddity and when he finally opened his mouth to speak she already shuffled past him, wielding her dirty mop and transferring filth in her path as she went.

Vegeta watched the old woman go, affected by the hopelessness that emanated from her. How was he ever going to save this place? What was there even left to save? These people were more dead than alive. He refused this feeling and sought the rage he had felt before, the rage that would help him confront his father. It was still there, still burning ferociously within him and he grasped it with cold determination. This was going to end now.

There was only one person who actually looked at him as he resumed his way with renewed fury. Wary eyes followed him on his way through the last corridor. They belonged to a young soldier, probably the messenger the men at the gates sent up to announce the Prince's coming, and he didn't look better off than his comrades outside. The young man said nothing, nor did he move while Vegeta approached and passed him, he just followed him with his eyes, a mild look of wonder on his gaunt, smeared face. Only when Vegeta's enraged stare found his, did the young soldier move and he backed into the wall panting with terror. At least there was some life left in this one, Vegeta thought as he rounded the corner. Maybe there was some hope left for that one.

At last Vegeta came upon the heavy wooden doors of the throne room. It was here that he senses his father's battle power. There were no guards at the double doors. Apparently his father had sent every last man out to stand guard at the gates. He took a deep breath and threw the doors open, not bothering to announce his presence or wait to be summoned inside as he had done as a boy. He was ready for the confrontation with his father. His heart trashed against his ribs like a caged beast that wanted out as he entered.

Inside it was as dark and neglected as it had been throughout the rest of the palace. The glory he remembered of the majestic throne room was gone, overthrown by shadow and it was cold, so cold that it bit through his skin and into his very bones, spreading like an illness. It was like poison, he thought. His father's rule was poison. The ruin he found here strengthened his resolve, yet he was not prepared for what awaited him on the far side of this once glorious hall.

There in the gloom sat the mighty King Vegeta defeated on his throne with his broad shoulders hanging and his head bowed. There was nothing left of the magnificent warrior Vegeta had expected to confront with the atrocity of his reign. This was a defeated and wearisome man, a man beaten by an afflicted mind. Vegeta didn't know if it was in the face of his father's mortality that he was shaken and his advance brought to an abrupt stop, but his resolve slipped his grasp and stole away.

He deteriorated to a boy, frightened, inadequate, defenceless against men so much mightier than he was. And all he wanted, all he needed was to be back home with his father who would shield him, keep him from harm. But he never returned home and his father had not come to save him. Again came the anger and the resentment and the why he could not answer, the why that would not leave him alone. His father had abandoned him, left him to the mercy of Frieza and he hated him, hated him more than he could bear. All these feelings tumbled inside him, coming at him so fast, so shambled that he could not understand them, his clarity lost to him.

The hapless figure seated on the dais stirred and wary brown eyes took Vegeta in as he stood in the midst of this cold hall devoid of resolution. When the King spoke Vegeta felt the insane urge to laugh at the familiarity of his father's eloquent speech and the conspicuous madness in his grand words.

"What devilry deceives my eyes?" the King lamented. "Who be this that bears such resemblance to my heir? Have you come to haunt me, demon? Lost he is! Lost is all! Cruel is the faith that awaits my kin. There can be no saviour from our doom."

A sturdy looking man Vegeta had already sensed being there, came forth from the shadows behind the throne of the King and looked at Vegeta as though the Mother of Victory herself had revealed her divine presence to him. Tragus had not been a young man when Vegeta last saw him, the man had been confidant to no less than three ancestors down Vegeta's line, and his troubles had aged him further. His short dark hair was greying at the temples and the beginnings of wrinkles lined his heavily scarred face. The King's confidant broke into a smile, the long thick scar running across from forehead to chin crumpling his features into a grotesque mask. To Vegeta this crooked smile was very welcome. It was the first warmth he had encountered since returning to this forsaken place.

Tragus leaned in to speak to his lord in a confidential tone. "Cast the darkness from your eyes, King Vegeta and behold anew the world. It is the Prince. The Young Vegeta has returned."

"Your eyes are like mine, Tragus. Treacherous. Wishes are so easily brought into being by troubled minds. Believe not what you behold. I have seen his face before. He is not real." the King sat up rigidly and beckoned Vegeta with a gloved hand. "Do not tarry, demon. Come forth into the light and reveal your true face."

Tragus failed to answer Vegeta's demanding stare and lowered his eyes to the floor, evidently hurt and discomforted and very ashamed by the King's poor mental state. Yet the man's hopelessness somehow reinforced Vegeta's resolve and it shone within him all the brighter. There would be no mercy for the distraught.

"I have come to take over, father." Vegeta's voice rang strong and clear through the halls. He advanced as he spoke and the torches on the walls burst into flame when he ignited them with his energy. The hall was ablaze by the time Vegeta reached the broad steps leading up to the dais on which stood the throne. "Your rule ends here."

The King gave a cry of terror as he recoiled from the sudden light and from Vegeta standing in front of him, refusing to accept who he was.

"Tragus!" the King beseeched in a shrill voice quite unlike his own.

Tragus did not come to his aid. The scarred man answered Vegeta's determined stare with renewed vigour and no words were needed to put across that they concurred. Tragus would be behind him all the way.

But what about his mate? Vegeta turned to the sudden disturbance at the entrance. Akane came bolting into the throne room panting, her golden eyes huge in fright. Had she come to stop him or to stand at his side?

"Vegeta!" she called.

Vegeta did not react, but his father did and the King spoke in a hoarse, incredulous voice: "Wee'un? Is that you?"

Vegeta felt fury shoot through his veins at hearing the pet name his father used to address his mate. It was a name that was very similar to the pet name Vegeta had given Akane and it showed how alikened he truly was to his father, how they shared the same sense of humor and both loved those contradictions that made up his little mate. Calling someone with such a vehement stance little was an absurdity. Clearly this had intrigued his father as much.

Akane never even looked at the King while she lingered a foot from the threshold pleading with Vegeta. "Vegeta please, you can't do this."

Vegeta's heart dropped when he understood the horror on her face. "Murder him?" he echoed the frantic thoughts she shared with him through their bond. "My own father?"

And the thing Vegeta believed impossible happened then. A fraction of his unshaken love for her was chipped away and no matter how small the piece that was taken from him, it saddened him to feel it leave more than any of the horrible decay he had witnessed after returning to his home. Their love should have been unbreakable. How could she believe him capable of killing his own father? How could she even think for one second… She should know him better…

"I thought…" Akane breathed.

Vegeta raised a hand to cut off her words because he didn't want to hear her finish, he didn't want to hear her say it out loud. Her thoughts were cruel enough. He ignored a pain that weighed heavy on his chest and turned back to his father on the throne.

The King glared at him with blatant venom now. "So you have come to lay claim to your King's throne? His land? His riches?" his eye fell on Akane in the back. "His women?"

"Akane is not yours." Vegeta replied with a calmness he did not feel. He wasn't certain, not anymore. Their bond was the one thing he had been certain of, the only thing he trusted blindly and the one thing of which he knew it could never be undone, but it did not feel solid anymore. It felt ready to fall apart at the slightest tug. His throat felt constricted as he continued. "You sacrificed her like you did your people."

"I love her!" the King shouted, madness dancing in his once warm and merry brown eyes.

"You don't. If you did you would not have sent her to her death. You would have kept her safe. Why lie, father? Why not admit that you have not cared for anything since mother died? You don't care. Not for your people and not for her."

The King shot to the edge of his throne, his gloved hands clutching the sides of the proud seat. "She wanted to go! I would not have sent her from my side if she had not agreed to go. She was honoured!"

Vegeta finally let loose the reins on his rage. It exploded inside him. His voice sounded hoarse and not just from shouting as his fury tore through him. "Of course she agreed to go! She loved you! She would have done anything for you! And she has! She has suffered more than any of us! And no matter how you ruined her, she still loves you!"

Here his rage wavered and he had to swallow the hurt that wanted to choke him. There was no room to fall apart, no room for doubt. If Akane decided to side against him he would have to deal with her as well… But would he be able to? He grappled for his waning fury because it was the only thing that would enable him to see this through. It had to end, no matter what the cost.

"She is like your people." Vegeta's voice trembled, but it was stronger than he expected. His rage was still there. "They love you. They worship you. They put their lives in your hands and you repay them by throwing it away. Not anymore. I will not let you."

The shuffling of boots on the marble floor cut the silence as Akane approached in an irresolute gait. Her hesitance made Vegeta dread what was coming and he couldn't get himself to turn and face her. It was time for her to choose. He wanted to trust that she was behind him, but how could he when she wasn't even certain herself? She reached his side after what seemed like harrowing hours and Vegeta forced himself to look at her. Her hard eyes passed his only fleetingly and fell on the King on his throne before them.

"Wee'un, tell me it is not you who brought this traitor before me." the King demanded.

Akane did not speak and she never looked away from the King's forbidding stare.

Vegeta felt the torrent of love she had for his father roar within her, the sense of duty and honour, the reverence and the undying adoration for her King. And beside that existed her love for Vegeta. A small but courageously burning flame battling for room. This love was newer, less noble perhaps and it was streaked with fear because it was tainted by what had come before it. The horrors that had altered her. Still it was deeper than that first love and it did not need a torrent to make itself known. It was just there, unyielding to the gust that tried to extinguish it.

The King drew himself up on his throne and he was as imposing as he had ever been. "Then you have betrayed me? You are in league with him?"

Akane swallowed and closed her eyes as if praying and Vegeta was blinded by the small flame that burst into light inside her. Her eyes, the eyes he loved so much, fluttered open and she raised her rough voice to address the King. "Your rule is over."

And Vegeta was finally able to draw breath again.

"Mutiny!" the King screeched. "Tragus! Apprehend them!"

Tragus did not move. He simply stood there aside the throne, his eyes still intent on Vegeta. This infuriated the King so that he screamed madly and made to lunge at Vegeta.

The latter was faster. Vegeta climbed the dais to the throne, catching the King before he could rise and forcing him back in his seat. The man struggled and spluttered, but could not escape the hands that held his shoulders pressed against the back of the seat. Vegeta caught the wild eyes of his father and as the man recoiled from him once more with a wild cry, he jolted him by the shoulders in plain desperation, whishing only to shake him to his senses.

"Unhand me, traitor!" the King cried and he trashed in Vegeta's grip growling and snorting like some wild beast.

"Why the hunger for power, father? Is it to still your madness? To feel alive? Is it worth it when it costs everyone else theirs?" Vegeta asked over the King's insane cries.

This left the King utterly still and he beheld his captor in honesty for the first time. His enraged face was softened by recognition and as he seized resistance he seemed to deflate, shrinking back into his throne a miserable heap.

"My dear lad." the King whispered in a cracked voice. "Can you ever forgive me?"

Vegeta's grip slackened as the man hid his face in his gloved hands and he felt the shoulders he was holding shake with silent tears. Vegeta released the King and backed away, watching this poor wretch with resentment and sympathy fighting to dominate inside him.

Then the King spoke, his voice muffled behind his hands. "I could not overcome it... I adored her so! She was my world. After her death there was nothing left for me here and yet she would not let me join her. She wanted me to stay with you… And I did. I stayed behind, but there was never life in me again. She has taken it with her." He gave a miserable cry from behind his hands. "So wretched a creature to be walking amongst the living, but never to share their light. I am dead inside."

Vegeta allowed his pity no room and said in a grim voice: "You should have stepped aside then. I understand that you lost your will to live, but you should have cared. For your nation, for your people. They do not deserve death because you wish it for yourself. You brought them ruin. I am giving you the chance to make it right now. Step aside. Give up the throne."

The King moved his shoulders away from him as though that would help repel his words. He did not speak.

"I do not want to use force. You are my father…" Vegeta clenched his fists at his sides and ground his teeth, uttering a hissed promise: "But if you don't step down, I will. Your rule can end in either shame or pride. Make your choice."