Planet Icion: My Fics: Destined by Icion Part 3

Destined by Icion
By Jeisre Ice

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Part 3: Ice Melts

She floated in the nothing, her feelings lost in the unknown. The sense of time and space did not exist at this place, a vacuum between dimensions. There were only two ways out of this place: back or forth. It seemed so easy to go forth, just reach out to the light in the end of the tunnel and you'll be in the place of blissful oblivion. Yet every time she reached towards the light someone (or something) was pushing her back.

Who are you? What do you want with me? she pleaded at last.

Go back! a voice said, Your mission is not complete. Go back, Driar, go back.

Bitter cold surrounded her. The icy liquid stung her body, which was otherwise numb. Yet her conscientiousness slowly crawled back. Deirdre realized that she was inside a rejuvenation tank. She also realized that her condition must have been extremely poor (Author's note: the worse the condition of the patient, the lower the temperature of the healing liquid). Then she heard voices. They were distorted by the humming of the tank pumps, but still she could recognize one voice.

"Whatever it is just tell me!!!" Frieza's voice seemed to tremble.

"You see, sire..." another shaking voice, belonging to a doctor, sounded, "We... we're doing everything we can... but still... She's in a past-coma state... To say 'critical' in this situation is to say she's just got a couple of bruises... Lord Frieza, you must understand, that we've done all that is in our power to..."

Frieza abruptly interrupted him,

"Is she gonna make it?" he simply asked, feeling a lump forming in his throat.

The doctor swallowed hard before saying the words that may become his last (as usually happened to the bearers of bad news),

"Sir, in medical terms: we had verified her clinical death two hours ago."

Frieza didn't move. Not even his expression changed. He just stared.

"I'm truly sorry, Lord Frieza," the doctor said, thanking the Kamis for not having to join his patient in the netherworld.

"Leave me!" a dry order followed.

The doctor, along with all the personnel, immediately cleared the room. Frieza approached the rejuvenation tank. For a moment he looked at the motionless body, surrounded by blue liquid. Then he fell on his knees, holding his palms against the glass.

"Oh, God!!! It's all my fault! First mother, and now her! I killed them, I killed both of them!!! Ignorant, self-centered... Mother was right... I am... MAMA!!! Forgive me... I failed you!!!"

Frieza wailed. He wept. He mourned.

Then amidst the sobs and gasps, his mind suddenly became alert, as a distant voice called to him,

Death is only the beginning, Frieza... A beginning of a new life... Sometimes what's left behind can grow into something better than it was before...

Frieza sobbed again and blindly reached to the voice,

What destiny hands to us is always what we should except... Now can you please get me out of this fish tank?

Frieza's eyes wound open and he stared right into the rejuvenation tank. Deirdre smiled and lightly waved to him.

Shocked, astounded, not understanding what he's doing, Frieza blew up the glass of the rejuvenation tank. The liquid poured out, washing Deirdre out, right in Frieza's arms. He clung to her, like a baby clings to his mother.

Blue liquid streamed down the face of the Terror of the Galaxy, mixing with his tears of joy,

"Deirdre, chi'fae sa, little sister! I... that stupid test... I would have never... Heavens brought you back... Oh, Kamis!!! Forgive me!!!"

Her hand gently glided over his shiny carapace. It carried the soothing touch of motherly care. Only in Icia's arm Freiza felt so blissful.

And then she hummed the lullaby tune, soothing him even more. The light was shining again, it has merely taken a different form. A form of a Saiyan, a race that he hated as deeply, as passionately as he loved his mother. It was now that Frieza realized that Deirdre stirs conflicting emotions within him. Hate and love… Which one was stronger he didn't not know… What to do next he did not know either. One moment he was ready to protect Deirdre at the cost of his own life, the next moment he wanted to vaporize her on the spot. He wanted never to see her again, yet knew that he won't bear to let her out of his sight. Deirdre was his inheritance from his mother, even to some point an extension of Icia. And for that reason Frieza knew that "the girl stays". The conflicting emotions can be sorted out later.

She smiled again. Frieza attempted to do so as well.

"And from now on you're wearing the armor!" he said, his voice carried the notes of fatherly edification, "Like it or not, that's an order!"

"Yes, sir!" she responded like a well-trained soldier, but rather playfully.

Frieza felt a bit awkward. Only now it occurred to him that they were still sitting on the floor, soaked to the bones, and the distance between them was in no way appropriate to that which must be between the servant and the master. Kami forbid anyone enters. His reputation will be ruined.

The Terror of the Galaxy gave a slight cough. Deirdre understood him without him saying a word. She got up and moved slightly to the side. Frieza also rose to his feet.

"I want to have a word with you," he said, "But you might want to… err… change first."

Deirdre slightly blushed, as she glanced at the poor excuse for a fishing net she was wearing. Frieza came to the rescue. He lightly pushed at his left chest-plate. A soughing sound came from the back of his armor and a long crimson cape unfolded from under the back of his shoulder plates. Frieza detached it and handed the cape to Deirdre. She took it with a grateful nod.

"Father insists I wear one," Frieza explained, "But it restricts mobility, so I've ordered a special compartment to be added on my armor, where I can keep the cape. And if Papa pays me a surprise visit I can always be prepared."

Deirdre nodded again, wrapping herself in the soft, dark-wine velvet.

"I presume there is spare clothes in your quarters…" Frieza continued, starting to feel uneasy, "If there's anything else you will require…"

"I will let you know," Deirdre finished his phrase, "Thank you… for everything."

She headed to the door.

"I expect to see you in my quarters within an hour," Frieza's voice sounded behind her back, "You have my permission to leave, Commander Deirdre."

She turned, having dropped her jaw at that. Frieza smirked.

"Like I said, the more men you beat, the higher your rank is. You've beaten all of them…"

"Even…"

"Yes, Ginyu too. He collapsed first, so, according to the rules, the victory is yours. I thought of appointing you as a new Captain of my elite warriors, but…" Frieza chuckled, "You seem to dislike the 'cheerleading' nature of the team. So I thought I gave you a less 'stylish' rank. You are now the Commander of my Star Fleet. You don't have any objections, do you?"

Deirdre smiled somewhat, but saluted, according to her new rank.

"No, Lord Frieza!"

It was Frieza's turn to smirk.

"Let's keep it formal in public," he simply said.

Deirdre nodded and exited.

*********************************************************************

Deirdre was almost at her room's door, when she noticed a crouching shadow in the dark corner of the corridor. Deirdre assumed a defense pose.

"Come out and state your business!" she demanded.

The shadow moved and a short man stepped into the light. He was wearing a standard soldiers' uniform. His eyes and hair were pitch black, just like hers.

The man smirked, slightly moving his head. His black tresses seemed to sough like dry autumn leaves. Deirdre wondered how was it possible for one's hairstyle to basically 'stand up'.

She looked at the man. Another detail caught her attention. A furry belt around his waist was actually a tail. He was a Saiyan, like herself.

The Saiyan stranger kept silent.

"I presume you want to talk to me?" Deirdre spoke first.

He smirked. Something was familiar about the way he did it. Something about the facial expression, the arrogance in the gaze, in the lip curve.

"I saw you fight," he said with a deep, somewhat coarse voice, "You've managed to surpass the limits of an ordinary Saiyan. Tell me, girl, how did you do it?"

"First, you will address me by my name and rank: it's Commander Deirdre," she spoke coolly, "Secondly, you will state your own name and rank, and if by any chance it happens to be lower than my own, you will be severely punished. The army code forbids those of the lower rank to question their commanding officers."

The Saiyan smirked again.

"Very well, I WILL tell you my name. I am Vegeta, the Prince of Planet Vegeta and all Saiyans. I think that makes ME the 'commanding officer'!"

"Prince of the planet that no longer exists, and people who are almost extinct… Not much of a position if you ask me."

Vegeta's lowered his brows.

"I'm NOT asking your stupid opinion," he snapped, "There's no time for it! Yes, our race is almost completely gone, we are the last two alive. There were two others, Nappa and Raditz, but they were killed during a planet raid. There might be another one still alive, he was sent to Earth as an infant, but we lost all contact with him as soon as he landed."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Deirdre inquired.

"Because you are one of us! Because you are, at the moment, the strongest Saiyan, and from what I've seen, more training and you'll be able to take out Frieza himself!"

"And exactly why would I want to do that?"

Vegeta growled.

"Don't you know?! It was HIM, who blew up Planet Vegeta, our home planet! It was HIM, who destroyed our people! Where is your Saiyan pride?!"

Deirdre shrugged.

"I was taken from Planet Vegeta when I was too young to talk. I grew up knowing nothing about my origins. I don't know how to be a Saiyan."

"It's in your blood!!! The desire to fight, the craving for power, the passion for…"

Deirdre abruptly interrupted him.

"The flow of your blood is determined by those who raise you! I was not raised as a Saiyan, Vegeta."

The Prince shook his head.

"It doesn't matter. You are still one of us. And for that reason I make a proposal to you: join me, I have a plan to escape this prison, together we will seek all survivors of our race and then we will take down Frieza!!!"

Deirdre looked in Vegeta's eyes. They were her own, same spark, arrogance, independence, stubbornness. He was right, they were of the same blood.

"Well?" the Prince urged her.

Deirdre shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Vegeta, the answer is 'no'. I won't do it."

"Then you'll die too!!! Either Frieza will kill you personally, or, if he'll be stupid enough not to, I will return and punish you for your stupidity! Either way, you perish!"

She just smirked in reply. With the same smirk that he had on his face.

"What is the deal with you and Frieza anyway?" Vegeta snapped, angered by her refusal, "What did he give you a good fuck and you've imagined yourself a happy little Cinderella story?!?! Well, in this fairy tale Price Charming will personally roast your ass!"

"You are an angry man, Vegeta," Deirdre said, starting down the corridor, "Hate only makes one weak. Think about that…"

The Saiyan Prince clenched his fists.

"You'll pay for this, girl, mark my words! I WILL become the most powerful fighter in the Universe, I will come back and kill you and Frieza!!! You hear me?!"

Deirdre half-turned her head.

"Now that you've made this bold little speech of yours, what will stop me from raising the alarm and arresting you for insubordination and attempt of riot?"

Vegeta dropped his jaw.

"You… you… wouldn't dare!!!"

"Try me!"

The Price stepped back under the heavy gaze of the last woman of the Saiyan race.

"You… you… you'll regret this! Mark my words, Deirdre!!!"

Vegeta turned and ran in the opposite direction to which Deirdre was heading.

"The space pod module," she sniffed, "Stupid man. They can track down any pod anywhere, they're all linked into the main computer system. Doesn't he know that?"

Thoughtful, she walked. For some reason she was heading in the direction Vegeta ran to. Automatically, she was going to the space pod module. But she stopped half-way, as a door on her right caught her attention.

"The control room," Deirdre muttered to herself, "I wonder why Frieza doesn't put guards at these places. It's ridiculously easy to get in and break into their main frame. They won't even know what hit them..."

Suddenly she became thoughtful again. For a moment Deirdre weighed pros and cons, then she boldly stepped into the control room. This is where her mission starts. She knew that for sure now. Because it felt right to do this...

*********************************************************************

"I say she's just a darn monkey! End of the freaking story!!!"

Captain Ginyu threateningly glared at his subordinate. Usually one look was enough to strike Jeice in almost reverential fear. But this time... Ginyu frantically attempted to understand what happened to the 'damn coward'.

"Well that 'darn monkey' could have KILLED ya on the spot! Yet she PURPOSELY used her attacks to drain us, NOT hurt us!" Jeice reinforced his speech with a furious nod.

This was a drastic change. Fire, rebellion, passion (errr... well, passion was there before)... This was Jeice that Captain Ginyu could barely remember. Twenty years ago? Longer? At the time Captain Ginyu thought that it was just childish stubbornness. Yet it emerged again, and now of all times?

But Jeice did have a point. Strangely, the rest of the team seemed to agree with him. Even Burter, who usually took Ginyu's side.

Ginyu frowned.

"Well... she... well... I was only fighting back like I was ordered to..."

"But you weren't ordered to kill her!!! That's what she gets for trying to save you a few wounds! How low can you go?!?!" Zarbon was right there behind Jeice, and he was enraged no less than the red-faced mercenary.

Those two taking one side?! Ginyu thought he'd never see the day. He was now sweating like a grizzly bear during the mating season.

"Ye recovered in 15 minutes!" Jeice continued to press on, "And she's in a coma!"

"For all we know, she may be already dead!!!"

Zarbon realized that he went a little too far with his last comment. For some reason it even put Ginyu into depression.

A moment of silence followed.

"Hey, what's with the sour faces? Is there a funeral?" a cheerful voice made all six men jerk their gazes to the door.

"Hi, remember me?" Deirdre waved to them and smiled.

She changed her clothes, keeping to the same look she had before, the only new addition to her attire was a shiny new armor.

She kept smiling and stepped into the lounge. They were too astounded to response. Only ten minutes ago they had an official report from the doctor that her condition was critical. Shock was too light of a word to describe their feelings.

Deirdre made a puzzled grimace.

"Oh, did I catch you guys during one of those 'boys only' talks? And don't look at me like I'm going to bite you."

Zarbon was the first to recover. One jump and he was near Deirdre, squeezing her in his embrace.

"Deirdre! Thank the Kamis! You're alive!!!"

"I won't be if you squeeze me like this! I can't breathe!"

"Yeah, leggo of the lady, mate!" Jeice rudely pushed Zarbon away from Deirdre, "Hello, gorgeous, did you miss me?"

He lifted her up and twirled her around.

"You don't really miss anyone when you're inside a rejuvenation tank!" she laughed, "Oh, please stop! I'm getting dizzy!"

Jeice put her down. Deirdre turned to the rest of the Ginyu Force.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you, guys, but, hey, you wouldn't have gone easy on me, now would you?"

Her attitude was so unarming. Even Captain Ginyu, who was intending to say something rude... couldn't do it. He just... couldn't. No one has ever treated them 'nicely'. No one has every said 'sorry'. No one has ever wanted to be a friend. And this new feeling, a positive emotion for a change, warmed their souls.

"No hard feelings?" Deirdre asked with a smile.

"No-o-o..." a discord choir muttered, each unsure of what the others might think. Then the decision was unanimous.

"Nope!" they all said confidently (well, Captain Ginyu did have a few doubtful notes in his voice, but he wouldn't be Captain Ginyu if he didn't).

"Great," Deirdre nodded, "Now, since we're going to be working together, why don't we have dinner together? I'll cook!"

Surprised gazes in reply.

"You can cook???" Burter hissed, doubtfully raising his brow.

"Sure! Let's see: fried chicken, rice, sushi, fish sticks, tempura, stir-fry... and..." she glanced at the faces of the Ginyu Force, "Oh, yeah... chocolate cake! Now how does that sound?"

CHOCOLATE CAKE?!?! You gotta be kidding!!! If there was something you could buy the Ginyu Force with it was the "C" word. Drool collected at the mouths of the elite warriors.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!!!" Captain Ginyu champed, rolling out his tongue, like a dog who was offered a bone.

"Gimme, gimme, gimme!!!" Recoome echoed his leader, smiling as if Deirdre was his #1 best friend in the entire Universe.

"It's settled then," Deirdre nodded cheerfully, "Dinner time here. Now, if you will excuse me, I have an audience with Frieza."

"I'll walk you there!" Zarbon eagerly stepped forward.

He was immediately tackled by Jeice.

"No! *I* will walk ye there!"

"Oh, no you won't! *I* will!"

"No, *I* will!!!"

"Guys, guys!" Deirdre pushed them apart by coming between them, "You can both walk with me."

This kind of resolution didn't suit either Jeice or Zarbon. Each wanted a 'tete-a-tete' kind of walk, but neither of them was going to let the other have the pleasure of Deirdre's company.

If I can't have it, you won't either! their gazes shot sparks at each other.

Of course, starting personal conversations was out of the question. So they silently walked down the corridor. Occasionally Jeice and Zarbon exchanged murderous glares and made faces at each other.

They soon reached Frieza's quarters.

"You can wait for me, if you want," Deirdre addressed the two men, "I could use a hand in the kitchen after I'm finished with Frieza."

"You/ye can count on me!" both Zarbon and Jeice flashed their eyelashes.

"One more thing," she said heading to the door, "PLEASE, try not to fight while I'm gone!"

"We won't!" they said, giving the smiles of pure innocence, meanwhile secretly crossing their fingers behind their backs.

As soon as Deirdre disappeared behind the doors, the rivalry exploded.

"What'da ya trying to prove here?!" Jeice growled, "She's MINE! End of the bloody story!!!"

"Oh, yeah?! I don't recall her actually choosing you!"

"She will!"

"Wanna bet?!"

"You're on!!!"

Zarbon paused for a second. Actually, it was an idea...

"Alright, Jeice!" he said, grinning evilly, "You want a bet, you got it! The first one to get her in bed, is the winner. The looser will have to... shave himself bald!!! Now what do you say?"

Jeice hesitated. He did make bets before, but betting on a live person, gambling with feelings seemed... wrong. He didn't want to think of Deirdre as a prize...

"What's wrong? Chicken?!" Zarbon challenged.

That was an insult. Jeice's pride triumphed over other feelings,

"You're on!"

They shook on it. Now the real competition began. The toughest one yet, and the prize was worth it.

*********************************************************************

Freiza was drumming his fingers on the glass of the dome-like window. Deirdre immediately picked up the irritation in his motions. For some reason, he was in the bad mood.

Hmm... I wonder what could have happened during the hour to get him upset? she thought, approaching.

"Reporting as ordered," Deirdre said. Rather too casually, she didn't fulfill the usual protocol either: she did not kneel.

Frieza didn't move, but Deirdre heard his distinct growl.

"There was an unauthorized launch from space pod module #2 a little less than an hour ago!" Frieza finally spoke, dryly and somewhat threateningly, "It appears that a soldier named Vegeta has escaped. Tracking him down is impossible due to the failure in the main frame of the computer system, which carries unmistakable traces of sabotage... You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, now would you 'commander'?"

He turned to glare at Deirdre. Not a single muscle moved on her face. Only a slight shade of surprise.

"Vegeta... That's a Saiyan name, isn't it?" she replied with a question.

Frieza's eyes shone.

"Yes. Vegeta, the prince. He has attempted insubordination before, but never before was he able to execute his plans of desertion. He couldn't have done it without the assistance of a commanding officer..."

"Should I interpret that as an accusation, Frieza?" her voice was calm, but the tone was icy, blood-freezing. Her face remained indifferent, only her gaze has changed.

Frieza peered in her eyes, trying to drill her soul and drag the truth out of her. Like a boa paralyses a rabbit, which can't move from horror. It always worked on his subordinates, none of them were able to bear the glare of his menacing ruby eyes.

But something clicked. Like a magnet catching a piece of metal, her gaze caught his. The boa and the rabbit... only now they've changed the roles. It was Deirdre who hypnotized Frieza, depriving him of his will. It was that imperative gaze that Icia used to give him when he was young, and... when he was behaving badly. And that gaze was the only thing in the Universe that Frieza submitted to. He didn't even resist.

"No," he finally muttered, lowering his eyes, "I was... just wondering... if you knew..."

A smirk-like curve slipped over Deirdre's lips, but only for a second.

"Wouldn't have a clue," her reply was, "Besides I didn't have time to get acquainted with all of your soldiers, so I have no idea who this Vegeta is. You have many Saiyans in the army?"

Frieza growled again.

"Vegeta was the last one," he snapped.

"Then it only leaves me, of course, if you don't plan terminating me on the spot."

That was a rebuke. Frieza shivered. Those were the words that Icia used to shame him. She was physically weaker than Frieza, but her power over him was incredible. And that "terminating on the spot" remark was one the most painful in her arsenal. It seemed that she had passed it on to her ward.

"Vegeta possesses three things which I refuse to tolerate: cowardice, bad haircut and military insurrection!" Frieza hissed, trying to change the subject, "His arrogance has always gotten on my nerves! It seemed the better I treat him, the worst he rebelled!"

"Doesn't mean you should scapegoat on me."

Frieza nervously tossed his head, which meant: "Stop already! I know I've been wrong!"

Deirdre put her hand on Frieza's shoulder.

"Why do you even bother with him that much? Is he such a big loss to the army?"

Frieza soaked in the heat of the warm-blooded creature standing next to him.

"I... I guess not. No, definitely not!" he thought for a moment and added, "Forgotten."

Deirdre nodded.

"So what now, Frieza?"

His gaze was fixed on the stars, peering into the depth of the cosmos.

"We search... the whole Universe, if needed," Deirdre heard Frieza's distinct sigh, "But I will not rest till I find my mother's murderer!"

He turned to look at her, seeking support.

"I will stand by your side," she gave a slight smile, "I will do all I can to help you, chi'lae ba, big brother."

Her lips lightly touched his forehead. He seemed not to have noticed it.

"Rest now," Deirdre said, heading to the door.

"Rime..."

Deirdre's brows shot up in surprise.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Rime," Frieza repeated dreamily looking at the window, "On the outside the widow in covered with rime."

"Umm... hmm... yes, it... must be chilly outside... Goodnight, Frieza."

Deirdre exited.

The Terror of the Galaxy continued to stare, tracing the fancy pattern of the hoarfrost with his finger. The branches of the frozen water curved like lips of an icy creature... White skin, ruby eyes... The face... That face... Frieza couldn't get it out of his head.

"Rime..." he whispered, breathing on the window. A spot of glass became steamed. Frieza's finger, as of its own will, draw a unfamiliar shape...

"I will find you..." Frieza's whisper echoed under the dome-like ceiling of the room.

The stars shed ghostly light on Frieza, who lonely gazed into the night.

*********************************************************************

Darkness surrounded him. And bitter cold. The most lonely planet in the entire Galaxy. This was the place where nothing grew. Where the air, which allowed no life to exist, hanged thick... sick... dead... Silent, as if even a whisper of wind is afraid to trespass. No light ever shines here. The dark terrain is dead... And death lives here.

He has chosen this place because it suited his nature. Dark and cold... Here he could forget about everything. Yet now was different. The vision of the moment haunted him, returning again and again, replaying itself...

A deep breath. Perhaps, he should give in to the memory. Killing was his business... But it never happened like this before... This time it was more like a... murder...

Breathe. This was the day... The mission went smoothly. Their horror, panic, screams... Music to his ears. But the screams have not yet passed through him...

Breathe. The dead don't bite... but they sure can annoy with haunting memories.

Hold. Recall the moment. Every detail. Sound. Smell... Especially the smell... Smoke, ashes, blood... The exquisite smell of fresh, mortal wound.

Hold. The expression of her face for that brief moment when the blast has pierced her heart. Glorious! The blood drops rain on the red carpet... Delicious! Her body hits the floor then the purple folds of the cape wave over her... Grand!

Hold. Remember it all. Clear, like that tear in her eye...

Good. Breathe.

Another dark figure emerged out of the shadows. Oh, how he hated the interruptions!

"What is it you want?!"

The figure moved closer.

"I'm afraid, we may have a complication."

"What?"

"It appears her ward, the Saiyan girl, survived. Frieza found her and it seems he intends to keep her."

"It's your fault, you fool! YOU were supposed to kill her!!!"

The figure shrugged.

"I WAS going to, but wasn't it YOU, who dragged me back into the ship, shouting that Frieza's about to land?!"

Silence hanged for a moment in the darkness of the hall. Then he spoke, in his usual callous manner,

"I think we can remedy the sad fact of her survival, don't you think?"

A pearly shine cut the darkness, a carnivorous grin was full of cruelty.

"Leave her to me, I'll get her, and as for that greenhorn Frieza..."

"No! Leave him out of this! The girl must die without him being around!"

The dark figure shrugged again.

"That's a complication. We'll have to lure her out, but how?"

"To catch a mouse you need cheese, boy! Find out what kind of cheese the mouse likes, and you can set the trap..."

"And until we find out that, we lie low."

"Precisely! Now leave me! I want to be alone!"

The figure began to fade into the darkness.

"Have you ever actually thought that the girl was really intended for..."

"NO! Out of the question! And if I ever hear you mentioning that rumor again..."

"I am leaving you."

He was alone again. And the phantoms of the memories smelled the fear in his soul. They came to haunt.

Breathe. Hold. Hold. Breathe. Why isn't it working? Why is that thought banging in my head?!

If it is just a rumor, why are you so afraid that it's TRUE???

He shuddered, he realized his fear...

It was now clear to him: the girl must die. At any cost...

THE END

Will Frieza track down the mysterious murderers of his beloved mother? Or will they strike first when he least expects? What is Deirdre's mission? And what about the two love-struck rivals: will it be Jeice or Zarbon who wins the heart of the Saiyan beauty? Who actually murdered Icia and who is that mysterious Icejin called Rime?

Stay tuned for more stories of the Icion Saga!

Disclaimer: All the characters are copyright of Akira Toriyama, Toei Animation, and Funimation. Deirdre, Icia and Rime are copyright of Jeisre Ice. This story is copyright of Jeisre Ice. Permission is given by the author to copy this story for personal use only, providing no changes is done to the story or this notice. Special thanks to my good friend Furozen for letting me use the Icejin language she developed.