(Author's Notes: I think it was the Greek who did this, but I'm not sure. Anyways, on a girl's coming of age, she would have her name written down on a scroll, and the name was placed in a large basket of sorts. Then, on a certain day of the year, the young men of age who hadn't been married yet pulled a name from the basket, and that was whom they married. What would Chi-Chi, Bulma, and Eighteen do when they become prisoners of war and have their names placed in the basket? In this story, you find out...
Disclaimers for the entire story: I do not own Goku, Chi-Chi, Bulma, Vegeta, Eighteen, Krillin, Yamucha, Master Roshi, the Lord (King Vegeta in AU), and anyone in the Dragon Ball Z cast. Anyone you don't recognize, though, I have probably made them up.
AU Changes: In this story, Goku, Krillin, Vegeta, Bulma, Eighteen, and Chi-Chi are the same age- 17, turning 18. Yamucha is a year older than them. Vegeta is not a prince, but the son of the ruler of their territory. Goku, Krillin, and Vegeta, the Lord, Goku's family, and Yamucha have tails, the symbol of their homeland Saiya. None of the girls have tails. Master Roshi had a tail, but after he became the Keeper of the Scrolls, he lost it to old age. That's about it. No one can fly, but they can fight and move incredibly fast, and sense ki, which they call the life force.
Well, enjoy!)
Chapter One: The Captives of Saiya, Eyras
"Let me go, you bastards." Chi-Chi's voice was menacingly frosty as she glared at her captors. Who, in return, roared with laughter. One of them sneered at her and teasingly reached out to tug on a lock of her ebony mane. Chi-Chi jerked away from his hand, hatred clearly visible in her eyes.
"Keep your hands off me, you asshole!" she hissed warningly, glaring with complete loathing at the man. The tall fighter laughed in cold amusement.
"I pity the one who draws her name from the Basket," he commented to his fellow warriors, all who nodded agreement with his words.
"Leave the captives alone, Raditz. You have your own spouse, so don't torment some of the future mates," an amused voice ordered from within the group of soldiers. A tall, handsome middle-aged man stepped out of the group. Noticing who it was, the man quickly bowed low to the ground.
"All right, Father," he said, as Chi-Chi switched her glare to Raditz's father.
"Bardock, I don't think the prisoner appreciates your help," commented another within the group. Turning to see what the other was talking about, the leader of the troop noticed her defiant stare, and smirked with mirth.
"Something wrong, captive?" he drawled, one finger absently tracing the red scar that made its way down his tanned face.
"Yes," Chi-Chi replied hatefully. "You all should be burning in Hell." The blow was so unexpected that the girl didn't realize she had been slapped until she was sprawled on the earth, her head spinning from the hit. Chi-Chi struggled to get upright, but found her limbs wouldn't obey. So she lay there, feeling her awareness shutting down into unconsciousness.
"Raditz!" Bardock's voice was harsh with suppressed anger, and as the light that was her vision dimmed even more, Chi-Chi heard Raditz mumble an apology. Then everything faded to night, and the throbbing in her head was gone, replaced by oblivion.
Captain Bardock looked fiercely at his red-faced son as he gathered the immobile young woman into his muscular arms, enraged at his offspring's stupidity.
"If she has any permanent damage, the lord will have your hide, Raditz," he seethed, glowering at his middle son. Raditz scuffled in embarrassment, still slightly cross about the loud-mouthed captive's words.
"She deserved it," he mumbled, not meeting his father's eyes as he did so. A sharp box of his ears quickly silenced his mumblings. Ignoring his son's frown, Bardock turned to his troop, his eyes taking in the captives they had captured in Solace, capital of Succor, a neighboring mountain country. He had heard that two other captains had been sent to raid Yellowstone and High Waters, two prominent cities in the flatlands of Gully, a country bordering both Succor and Eyras, the country that Bardock and his family lived in. As he gave the order to march home, he wondered how the other two captains had fared. After all, one of the captains was his oldest progeny.
"Ow! Captain, she bit me!" Turles rolled his eyes at the idiocy of his troop. A small part of him wished he could be back in his father's troop, but the rest was proud that he was finally the leader of a unit, even if they were all brainless. They still got the job done.
"Then take your hand away from her mouth, Yamucha," he suggested, barely managing to keep his voice under control. Scowling at the blue-haired girl who had bitten him, Yamucha followed the plan his chief had told him, and began to suck furiously on the bleeding appendage.
Baring her teeth, the crimson blood on them giving evidence to Yamucha's yelp, the girl snarled, "And I'll do that again to the next bastard feels me up!" Noticing the young woman's exotic beauty, Turles couldn't help but understand Yamucha wanting to lay a hand on her. He sighed slightly in disappointment. Too bad only royals were allowed to have more than one wife, and that Turles already had one. Although by the younger fighters' lustful glances, he could tell that whoever pulled this one's name from the Basket would be extremely envied. All the fighters of the group had the wives the normal coloring of their homeland: black hair, tanned skin, and black eyes. This noisy vixen had azure locks that tumbled wildly halfway down her back, her flesh was fair and unburned, and her eyes were so blue that a man could drown within them. Turles sighed once more. At least he had a pretty wife to content himself with. Others weren't so lucky.
"Come on, spoiled brat," he ordered, giving the girl a rather hard shove back into the captive line. "We've got to go home."
"You mean your home," she grumbled, but grudgingly followed the prisoner in front of her as they began to march from the ruins of High Waters to their territory in Eyras. A place called Saiya.
"Come on, girl, we're not going to hurt you," one of the warriors attempted to say coaxingly, peering up at the tall girl who sat in the branches, glaring furiously down at him.
"Say away from me!" was her angry response, her bright blue eyes flashing. Then Eighteen snorted, almost bitterly amused at his words. "Not going to hurt me? Did you just forget what you did to Yellowstone, you dim jerk?" The bald-headed fighter scowled as some of his companions snickered.
"Get down here, you stupid bitch!" he exploded, his black eyes narrowing. "Before I come up there and get you!" In reply, the incensed girl gave him the finger. With a growl of rage, the fighter grabbed the base of the tree with his powerful hands and began to shake and uproot it. The anger on her face was replaced by shock and horror as Eighteen clung desperately to the branch she sat on, trying not to fall.
"Nappa, leave her alone. I'll get her without you taking the entire tree down," a calm voice commented, and the fighter paused long enough to sneer over his shoulder, "I don't need your help, Kakarrot. You're not even of age yet."
"Sure you do," a younger fighter who emerged from the crowd informed him amiably. "Leave the tree alone for a sec." Without waiting for a reply, the young man called Kakarrot quickly scaled the tree with the skill of someone who had climbed trees often during his childhood. Before Eighteen could even blink, the young warrior had snatched her from the branch by the back of her shirt, and had leapt to the earth. He grinned at Nappa's glare, and carefully set her on her feet, keeping his hand around her neck so she wouldn't run away again.
"Get off me," Eighteen hissed, trying to squirm out of his strong grip. Kakarrot grinned good-naturedly.
"Not if you're going to run away again," he stated firmly. Eighteen eyed the warriors who had stealthily surrounded her, and faintly sighed, all fight draining from her for the moment.
"Fine," she mumbled, not meeting the warrior's eyes. Nodding, Kakarrot released her. He turned to smile at the rest of group.
"Isn't it about time we headed home?" he asked, running a hand through his tousled mane, their usual ebony locks teased by the strong wind.
"Yes," Nappa grumbled, still glaring at both Eighteen and Kakarrot. The girl wasn't sure who he looked on with more hatred. "Let's go home." The troop cheered happily as Eighteen's heart sank. This wasn't good at all...
Meanwhile, the blue-eyed and -haired girl's head was hung low as she miserably marched forward. She wanted to go home, but home was a burning ruin now. She didn't even know if her father and mother were still alive. Bulma Briefs felt tears rise to her eyes, but she forced them away, not wanting any of her captors to see her weeping. She didn't want to give them the satisfaction. Even so, she had to bite her lip, hard, to keep from sobbing aloud. Luckily, none of the warriors noticed her misery, for they were too busy tormenting a sniveling captive. Well, most of them were, that is. Bulma noticed the leader- Turles, hadn't it been?- wasn't joining in any of the taunting. Instead, he was scanning the horizon, looking serious. Maybe not all of them were bastards, she mused to herself, and then shook her head in disagreement. Nah. They all were.
Bardock watched his troop laugh amongst themselves as he carried the unconscious girl that his son had struck. Shifting her slightly in his arms, he studied her face. She was the coloring of his homeland with those jet-black tresses that framed her still face, but he had seen her eyes, which were a deep, deep brown instead of black. Her skin was slightly bronzed by outside work, but she wasn't brown, as were most girls of the land of his birth. Her bone structure and entire frame was delicate, but, recalling the steel in her voice from before, she wasn't as weak as she appeared. All in all, she quite beautiful and lovely to look at. He would be curious to find out who picked her during the Ceremony of Marriage. Wasn't it only a few months away? Around three, he recalled. Shaking his head in annoyance as he noticed a large, unsightly bruise beginning to form on the side of her face where Raditz had hit her, he promised himself he would have a word with his middle son about keeping his temper when dealing with prisoners. Reallocating the girl once more, he continued to walk steadily towards the motherland. Home to his mate, and to see how Turles had done during his first time as captain.
"Welcome home!" was the warm cry that met all three troops' ears as they entered the capital of their lord's large province. The three groups waved to everyone in the gathering, and Kakarrot ignored the death-glares he was receiving from the girl he had captured in the tree as he stood in front of her. Suddenly, everything went quiet as two royal figures walked forward to meet the three groups. The trio of captains bowed formally to the lord and his son.
"Names and reports, Captains?" the lord wanted to know, his arms across his chest and scowl firmly in place. Bardock cleared his throat, and, bowing once more, stepped forward.
"Bardock, milord, Commander of Troop Thirteen," he said officially. "We attacked and burned every single building to the ground in Solace, killing every adult and male or young female child we saw-" At that, several of the captives stifled sobs, but Kakarrot's father ignored them. "We captured fifteen girls coming of age, and brought back seven stallions, five mares, eight sows, three boars, ten chickens, and three roosters, along with valuables we haven't sorted out yet." The Saiyan lord nodded sharply, and Bardock immediately fell silently. It was Turles's turn.
"Turles, sire, Commander of Troop Nineteen. We destroyed the entire city of High Waters, bringing back twelve girls coming of age. We also brought six stallions, six mares, seven sows, five boars, two rooster, one milk cow, and many spoils."
"Nappa, Your Highness, Commander of Troop Twenty-Six. We destroyed the entire city of Yellowstone-" and Kakarrot knew the blond girl was glaring at him "-and have returned with ten girls of age, eight stallions, two mares, four sows, eight boars, two chickens, and one bull." The son of the lord at last spoke, his arrogant words reaching everyone's ears.
"You brought much less than either Turles or Bardock, Nappa. Why?" The bald captain flushed slightly, but that was his only outward sign of embarrassment.
"When we attacked the edge of the city, the inhabitants began destroying anything of value, milord," he replied, a hint of an angry edge in his words. The lord's son sneered in scorn before he retorted.
"Looks like Yellowstone was smarter than you thought, eh Nappa?"
"Damn straight!" a voice mockingly called from right behind Kakarrot. Color drained from his face as he realized it had been the blonde prisoner who had spoken. The lord's son turned, a scowl replacing the smirk.
"Who said that?" he demanded, his obsidian eyes blazing with anger. No one mocked him and got away with it. Kakarrot hesitated, and then stepped aside to reveal the now-smirking young woman.
"She did, Lord Vegeta," he said, pointing at the culprit. "One of the captives." His eyes narrowed, Vegeta stormed over to stand in front of the prisoner.
"Did you think that was funny, girl?" he questioned softly, in a dangerous tone. The girl's smile widened slightly.
"Quite funny," she said, not bothering to add a title. Murmurs of disapproval echoed through the crowd, and Vegeta's cheeks burned crimson.
"You won't be laughing in three months, brat," he sneered, and indeed, the girl's grin vanished.
"I'll be gone in three months," was her determined reply. Vegeta's eyes narrowed to slits, and Kakarrot knew there was going to be trouble if he didn't stop this.
"Yeah, you could be dead," Kakarrot piped up, trying to calm his lord down. Vegeta glared at him.
"Kakarrot?"
"Yes, sire?"
"Shut up." Kakarrot sighed.
"Yes, Lord Vegeta." As the young man watched, Vegeta turned to glower at the captive, but the deadly fury had vanished from his eyes. Kakarrot's distraction had worked.
"I'll enjoy seeing who has the burden of taming you, brat," he sneered, then turned and returned to his father's side as the girl tossed back, "I'll enjoy seeing who tames you, jerk!" Despite his orders, Kakarrot couldn't help but snicker and comment.
"No mate is going to tame him," he informed the girl, still laughing. "It'll be the other way around!"
"Kakarrot?" The young warrior in question looked up to grin goofily at his regal friend.
"Yeah, Lord Vegeta?"
"I thought I told you to shut up."
"Sorry, milord," Kakarrot sighed, ignoring the girl's smirk.
Bulma watched the exchange through narrowed eyes. So that was the lord's son, she concluded, watching the young man, who was around her age, swagger after his father as they left. What an arrogant jerk. But why had that other man called the lord's son Lord Vegeta? In every land, including Eyras, they called the heir to the province the Crown Lord or Lady. Maybe the man was just stupid, she decided, watching him smile inanely. Although he did seem nicer than most of the other warriors around. She shrugged her slender shoulders, then stiffened as the fighter she had bitten turned to her.
"Time to meet the Keeper of the Scrolls, wench," the warrior called Yamucha sneered, gripping her elbow painfully. With a start, she realized that an enemy was accompanying each prisoner to whoever this Keeper of the Scrolls was. She glared at him.
"Get off of me, bastard," she hissed, yanking her elbow from his grasp. Yamucha's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing more, simply motioning for her to follow him. She did so, counting the other young women and noting with some surprise that all looked almost eighteen. Thirty-seven girls, including herself.
"Hurry up!" Yamucha barked, and, rolling her eyes, Bulma grudgingly complied, after glancing curiously back at the still grinning warrior for one quick second and wondering who he was many seconds more.
Having waited until Vegeta had left, Kakarrot hurried over to his father, beaming.
"Hi, Dad!" In return, Bardock handed the inert girl he held to his youngest son.
Kakarrot blinked in confusion, managing a bewildered, "Huh?"
"I'm going to take a bath. You can take this 'un to the Keeper," Bardock verified. His youngest offspring blinked, looking down at the young girl he now held in his arms. The first thing he noticed was the large, ugly bruise that began at the corner of her left eye and ended at her chin. Kakarrot whistled at the purplish bruise.
"Who gave her that?" he questioned, looking up at his father in astonishment. Bardock rolled his eyes.
"Who do you think, Kakarrot?" he asked sardonically. Kakarrot didn't even need to guess.
"Raditz?"
"She deserved it," the middle child of Bardock growled as he passed, dragging a frightened girl behind him. This time, both Kakarrot and Bardock rolled their eyes. Slowly, the girl in Kakarrot's arms stirred, and he smiled kindly down at her as her eyes fluttered open.
"Hello," he said cheerfully to the dazed young woman. Then her eyes, half-hidden by her long dark lashes, widened as her head cleared. Before Kakarrot could even tell her she was safe, she poked him hard in the eye. As Bardock doubled over laughing, his son howled in pain and danced around, still holding the girl in his arms. Enraged, she poked him in the other eye, relentless.
"Let me go!" she shrieked at the same time he yelped loudly, "Stop hurting me!" Glaring at him, she reached up and smacked him hard on the noggin. With a pained whine, he dropped her onto the dust, hands going to his aching forehead. Rubbing his brow aggrievedly, he frowned down at her.
"Why'd you do that?" he questioned in an injured tone. "I wasn't going to hurt you."
"Yeah, more like rape me or something," the girl spat at him from her position on the ground, glowering defiantly up at him. Kakarrot sighed. Why was he stuck with all the insufferable women today?
"You're just as bad as that blonde," he commented, still holding his forehead. "I'm not going to rape you, or any of the captives. None of us are allowed to touch any of you like that, unless you want us to."
"Well," the young woman began heatedly, "I don't want-" She stopped as a pained yell resounded through the empty gathering-place. Bardock, Kakarrot, and the dark-haired girl turned in time to watch the blonde from earlier crumple halfway to the ground, clutching at her left hand in a way that suggested that her wrist was broken. Nappa towered over her, his look murderous.
"Looks like you won't be climbing any trees any time soon, does it?" he gloated, raising his massive hand to strike her on her unmarred face. Instantly, Kakarrot was there, the look in his eyes pure wrath as his temper finally got the better of him.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Nappa?" he asked dangerously, his tone even more deadly than Vegeta's had been. He realized that he had actually blasphemed for once, and that he hadn't used a proper label for the captain, but right now he really didn't give a damn. Nappa took one look at his face and gulped, but stayed stubborn.
"Teaching this bitch some lessons," he growled, his hand moving slightly upward to retrace its previous attempted swing. Kakarrot had shattered the older fighter's wrist before either had known what was happening.
As his commander fell to his knees with a surprised cry of pain, Kakarrot avowed calmly and impersonally, "Next time, Captain, remember that when a woman is a captive in Saiya, no warrior is allowed to harm her." Leaving Nappa to his injury, he turned to the young woman, and found her scowling at him.
"I could have taken care of him myself," she snapped, and Kakarrot rolled his eyes, his infrequent fury draining away to be locked tightly within to wait for another rare outburst like the one that had just occurred.
"I'm going to get my ass kicked by Lord Vegeta because of that incident, and you're mad at me for helping you?" he reckoned, and when she nodded, sighed. What a thank-you. Turning, he called out to one of his friends who had stayed behind to watch the captives go to the Keeper, "Krillin!"
The extremely stunted-in-height man walked over, and from behind him, Kakarrot heard the blonde stifle a snigger.
"Yeah, Kakarrot?" he questioned, unable to hide a grin as he neatly stepped around Nappa.
"Could you take this girl to the Keeper? I'm taking someone already, and it doesn't... look like Nappa is up for it," Kakarrot commented, and the two friends shared a smirk and a laugh as Nappa cursed at him.
Krillin, still grinning, nodded and said, "Sure." He stepped up to the girl, who had struggled to her feet, and looked up... and up... and up.
"Hi," he said with an impish smile. "Do you want to go to the infirmary after seeing the Keeper?" he added, noticing her swelling wrist. The blonde woman rolled her eyes.
"No shit, shortie," she drawled, causing Krillin's grin to fade slightly. He was tired of being mocked by people just because he was the shortest seventeen-year-old Saiyan ever.
"The name's Krillin," he emphasized, and the woman tossed her head, looking uninterested.
"Whatever," she remarked, her voice holding an odd twang as she spoke. Nevertheless, the short fighter frowned.
"Krillin," he persisted, gazing stubbornly up at her. The blonde smirked, and shook her head, sending golden curls everywhere. Unconsciously, Krillin followed the locks, and found himself flushing with embarrassment as they landed a little lower than her throat. The young woman's smirk widened as she noticed the look.
Ducking his head, Krillin muttered, "C'mon. Let's go introduce you to the Keeper."
"Oh, lead on, Krillin the Short," the young woman quipped sarcastically, laying a hand on his shoulder. Struggling hard to keep the blood from rushing to his face at the sensation of a beautiful girl's hand on him, the Saiyan decided her version of his name would have to do.
"Then let's go then," he said, quickly pulling from her grasp before she could humiliate him anymore. He caught Kakarrot's amused look, and glared at his friend before hurrying in the direction of the Temple and hearing her footsteps behind him as she followed.
Kakarrot grinned, watching the two opposites head off before turning to find the girl who had poked him the eyes watching him with an odd look on her face. The young warrior looked questioningly at her, and the look disappeared, replaced by a familiar scowl.
"Who is this Keeper, anyway?" she demanded irritably, her full lips pursed in a frown. Kakarrot shrugged, brushing away the thought that she was pretty when she wasn't glaring at him.
"I'll explain it on the way," he said, and as he led the girl to the Temple, he did.
The Keeper of the Scrolls had been at the Temple since before anyone could remember. Even Lord Vegeta's grandfather, before the lord had killed him during the succession to the throne, didn't know how old the ancient, perverted man called Master Roshi was. Even as perverted as the elderly man was, he nevertheless was the Keeper, but recorded everyone's names and histories in the Books of Saiya. Every birth, marriage, and death was recorded in the Books. And so it was he who worked the Ceremony of Marriage. On a date Roshi chose, those who have had their coming of age for turning eighteen during the year gather at the Temple, dressed in ceremonial clothing. The young men drew names from the Basket of Choosing, and whoever's name was on the slip of scroll was from then on his wife. After all had been paired, the Ceremony began, and after a month of being completely alone with their new mates, they returned to their regular lives, although they now lived together. And that was the way it had always been.
The young woman looked at him in disbelief when he had finished.
"Do you mean to tell me," she squawked, gaping, "that you choose a name from a basket and whoever her name is, you marry her?" Kakarrot smiled at her.
"You mean we. All the captives' names are being written in the Books," he informed her brightly, and the girl looked as if she was about to faint.
"Here you go," Yamucha said gruffly to someone within the stone castle, and shoved Bulma inside, closing the door with a loud boom of finality. Bulma shifted, glancing around the temple in a mixture of confusion and awe at what she saw.
The very walls were made of pure gold, and the mosaics on them were not made of stone, but of valuable jewels such as sapphires and rubies. There was only two pieces of furniture within the enormous room. A gigantic pedestal that propped up the largest book she had ever seen that was titled 'Life Records', and a small, rickety rocking chair with an extremely old man residing in it.
Bulma nearly laughed aloud, but controlled herself. The aged gentleman looked up from the book, in which he had been writing with a large quill of blackest sable to grin at her and reveal he was missing several teeth.
"Well, hello beautiful," he called, his eyes hidden by an odd darkness in his glasses. "What might your name be?" When Bulma hesitated, he cackled, adding, "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm not going to tell anyone." At last, she gave in. The old man would probably forget her name within minutes anyway.
"Bulma Briefs." The ancient scribbled it down in the enormous book, and for a second she was alarmed. Then she relaxed, recalling Yamucha growling to her that only the Keeper ever read the Books. She wondered where the rest of the Books were, since they were always mentioned in plural form, and then pushed the thought aside.
"Your parents?"
"Doctor William Briefs and Madam Andrea Fox-Briefs."
"Any siblings?"
"No."
"Your place of birth?"
"High Waters, Gully."
"Your age?"
"Seventeen, but my birthday is in three days." To her surprise, the old man beamed, as if the answer pleased him.
"Are you engaged or married?"
"No," Bulma said, snorting at the thought. "I'm never getting married. Father said I didn't have to if I didn't want to." The ancient chuckled, but continued with the questions.
"Occupation?" Bulma grinned proudly as she answered.
"Head Scientist of High Waters City." The old man looked dully impressed, cracking her another toothy grin.
"That's all the information I needed," he stated, standing. Bulma could have sworn she heard his ancient bones creak as he hobbled towards her. "Good luck, Bulma Briefs."
"Thank you, sir," she replied, slightly mystified by his words.
"Please, call me Roshi. Would you do something for this poor, old man?" he suddenly asked, his manner wheedling. Bulma eyed him, and then shrugged.
"Come here." He beckoned her with a long, bony finger. Still a trifle wary of his attitude, she obeyed, leaning forward as he whispered something in her ear. The azure-haired girl listened for a moment, her face blank. Abruptly, she jerked away, glaring furiously at him.
"You... You perverted retched man!" she shouted, her face flushing red as she clenched her fists. "I'm going to kill you!" At that statement, the door flew open and Yamucha raced inside, looking anxious. When he saw she hadn't followed through with her threat, he looked relieved before bowing to Roshi, who was still grinning coaxingly at Bulma.
"I'll take her from your presence, Master," he informed the Keeper calmly, before latching onto Bulma's arm with an iron-like grasp that she couldn't escape. As she screamed obscenities at both the Saiyan fighter and the perverted Keeper, Yamucha dragged her from the Temple.
Eighteen glared at the Keeper, instantly disliking him. He, however, smiled winningly back.
"I just need you to answer a couple of questions," he told her cheerfully. "No one else will know any of your history but the Book and I."
"But me and the Book," Eighteen corrected absently, but the Keeper ignored her, picking up his quill once more.
"Name?"
"Eighteen." Roshi looked up, shaking his head.
"Not your age, your name," he corrected.
"My name is Eighteen," she growled. "E-I-G-H-T-E-E-N. I have no last name." The Keeper blinked slowly.
"Oh." She watched him write it down.
"I'm also eighteen in years. I turned eighteen exactly a week and two days ago." She didn't like the pleased look that flitted across his face, and scowled.
"Your parents?"
"Scientist Gerald Gero and Lady Gerri Brown."
"Any siblings?"
"An older brother named Seventeen. He's two years and five days older than me."
"Your place of birth?"
'Yellowstone, Gully."
"Are you engaged or married?"
"No," Eighteen said with venom. "I plan to be a spinster, and a rich one at that."
"Occupation?" the Keeper asked, seemingly on the verge of hysterics.
"Student at Yellowstone University, with a double major in Politics and Industry."
"That will be all," Roshi said, then paused, eyeing her speculatively. Eighteen scowled. She didn't like that look.
"What?" she demanded, but he only grinned and pointed at her.
"You're very lovely, do you know that?" the Keeper asked slyly. Her eyes narrowed, and she didn't reply. Her hands slowly balled into fists as he creakingly stood from his chair and made his way towards her.
"Stay away from me," she said dangerously, when he was a few feet away. Roshi smirked and took another step towards her. He never saw her coming. One instant he was walking towards her, the next second he was in his rocking chair, his head aching from a hard blow. Blinking hard, the Keeper peered around, only to see the open doorway and that the blonde had disappeared. He sighed with disappointment, and began to rock once more.
Once Chi-Chi had managed to assure the extremely confusing Saiyan that she wasn't going to keel over, they made their way into the Temple where Master Roshi waited. As they did so, she eyed the Saiyan, unsure of how to label him. At first, she had thought he was merely the sort of harmless fellow who had been dropped on his head as a child. Now, after he had broken that other Saiyan's wrist, she knew he wasn't harmless. Even as she remembered the look of wrath on his face, she shivered slightly. Luckily, the goofily grinning Saiyan didn't notice. Chi-Chi hadn't realized they had entered the Temple until he spoke.
"If he tries anything, call me," suggested the Saiyan, who had never introduced himself, loud enough for the old man, most likely Master Roshi, to hear him. As the young fighter exited the Temple, the Keeper glared after him. Finally noticing Chi-Chi watching him, he managed a hurried smile.
"Name?" Chi-Chi chewed on her lower lip, hesitating on telling the old man her birth name. But he didn't seem able to even leave the Temple, so she finally told him.
"Lady Chi-Chi of Solace." Master Roshi stared at her, looking almost amused for a moment.
"Parents?"
"The duke of Solace, also known as the Ox King, and Lady Chi-Tin Pastille."
"Siblings?"
"None."
"Age?"
"I'm turning eighteen in four weeks."
"Place of birth?"
"Solace, Succor."
"Are you married or engaged?" Chi-Chi snorted at that.
"My parents wish," she replied dryly, recalling the numerous suitors, all wanting to gain the duke's favor.
"Occupation?"
"Being a lady at Solace Castle, and being a captive of the Saiyans?" Chi-Chi suggested sarcastically, and Roshi laughed loudly.
"I like your attitude." The Keeper gazed at her for a moment, looking almost hopeful, then with a nervous glance towards the door and the Saiyan that waited outside he at last shook his head and motioned for her to go.
"Don't worry, milady. I'll keep your secret," he called after just as she reached the door. Turning, she grinned a real, happy smile for the first time in ages, a grin that lit up her face and made her absolutely beautiful.
"Thank you, Master Roshi."
Roshi was still staring when she closed the door behind her.
"Let's go," the girl said, actually sounding cheerful as she turned to close the exit. When she turned to face Kakarrot, he found his breath suddenly gone.
The girl looked stunning when she smiled. When she did, her face glowed with an almost heavenly radiance, and her eyes... Her eyes softened until they were like pools of darkest chocolate...
She suddenly noticed him staring, and instantly the smile was gone, and so was the radiance. Kakarrot finally caught his breath, and gave her a sheepish smile, although why he felt so embarrassed he didn't know.
"I'll show you to your room. You'll be sharing it with two other captives," he informed her. She nodded, and Kakarrot led the way to the captive wing of his lord's palace.
Bulma looked up as a cheerful masculine voice reached her ears.
"This will be your living room, which has an exit to the hallway, and a door that lead to the bathroom and three doors for the bedrooms," he was saying. "I hope you like it-" Then the door swung open, and a Saiyan and a fellow captive stepped inside. The girl was a dark-haired beauty who looked around the large, spacious first room of her quarters.
"Oh I do," she quipped sardonically. The Saiyan, which Bulma recognized as the goofy one who always called the lord's son Lord Vegeta, didn't seem to notice, and smiled childishly with delight.
"Good," he said. "I've got to go visit Lord Vegeta." Then his voice changed, and he sounded as if he was reading from a manual. "If you need anything, pull that chord-" he pointed to the golden cord that ran out into the hallway "-and a servant will come to help you. You'll be served all meals here, unless told otherwise. You'll be called to the courtyard tomorrow an hour or two after breakfast. I guess that's it." Giving her a grin, he nodded to the other two in the room before disappearing out of the door. The girl stared after him for a moment, looking oddly bewildered, then turned to smile shyly at her roommates.
"Hello," Bulma said, introducing herself.
"I'm Eighteen," their last roommate informed her, giving the girl a rare smile.
"I'm Chi-Chi," she imparted, once more bashfully. Eighteen looked blank, but Bulma gaped at the girl.
"Chi-Chi?" Bulma repeated. "As in, Chi-Chi the daughter of the Ox King and only niece of King Zen of Succor?" Even Eighteen had heard of the two men, and looked wide-eyed.
Chi-Chi timidly nodded but added, looking furtively around, "Please don't tell anyone. I don't want any of the Saiyans knowing. If my father and uncle are still alive, they might use me to get to them or something." Both girls nodded solemnly, and then all were silent for a long moment, not knowing what to say. At last, one of them piped up.
"Well, what happened to you two?" Bulma inquired, noticing the girls' injuries. Eighteen looked down, absently fingering the brace that held her wrist in place. That short Saiyan had taken her to the infirmary after seeing the Keeper, then to her room before disappearing to who knows where.
"One of those commanders did it," she muttered, the very incident making her cheeks flush angrily.
"And then that crazy Saiyan broke his wrist," Chi-Chi added, with a note of satisfaction in her voice. Eighteen looked briefly surprised, then grinned in malicious pleasure.
"That he did." Bulma raised an eyebrow, having been dragged off by Yamucha before the event.
"Well, what happened to you?" she asked Chi-Chi.
"One of the Saiyan in the troop who captured me got mad when I yelled at his father, and hit me," the girl replied quickly, her hand instinctively going to hide the bruise.
"He hit you pretty hard," Eighteen commented, and Bulma nodded agreement. Suddenly Eighteen eyed the blue-haired girl.
"Nothing's happened to you," she stated matter-of-factly. Bulma blinked, then shrugged.
"Not yet." Chi-Chi and Eighteen looked at each other, and both slowly grinned. Bulma glanced at them warily. She didn't like that look. Her eyes followed Chi-Chi as she walked over to a reading table and rummaged through the drawer. Grinning triumphantly, Chi-Chi turned to reveal a large pair of scissors in her hand.
"What are you going to do with that?" Bulma demanded, eyeballing the scissors guardedly. Chi-Chi grinned mischievously.
"There can be no perfect roommates. You must be flawed."
Bulma snorted in disbelief. "What, are you going to try and cut my cheek or something?"
"Cut your cheek?" repeated Chi-Chi, smirking evilly. "No, I'm going to cut something much worse... Your hair." The blue-eyed woman's hands instinctively flew to her lengthy azure locks, her pride and joy.
"You are not cutting my hair!" she declared firmly, then screamed loudly as Eighteen lunged for her. The young woman leapt out of harm's way and raced around the room as the other two girls chased her, the former screeching piercingly and the two latter laughing madly.
None of them noticed the door open until a thunderous voice roared, "Just what the hell is going on here?" The three teenagers froze, wide-eyed, before slowly turning to face the doorway.
A dreadfully irritated Vegeta, an extremely baffled Kakarrot, and an incredibly amused Krillin stared back, all with their arms crossed against their chests.
To be continued...
Disclaimers for the entire story: I do not own Goku, Chi-Chi, Bulma, Vegeta, Eighteen, Krillin, Yamucha, Master Roshi, the Lord (King Vegeta in AU), and anyone in the Dragon Ball Z cast. Anyone you don't recognize, though, I have probably made them up.
AU Changes: In this story, Goku, Krillin, Vegeta, Bulma, Eighteen, and Chi-Chi are the same age- 17, turning 18. Yamucha is a year older than them. Vegeta is not a prince, but the son of the ruler of their territory. Goku, Krillin, and Vegeta, the Lord, Goku's family, and Yamucha have tails, the symbol of their homeland Saiya. None of the girls have tails. Master Roshi had a tail, but after he became the Keeper of the Scrolls, he lost it to old age. That's about it. No one can fly, but they can fight and move incredibly fast, and sense ki, which they call the life force.
Well, enjoy!)
Chapter One: The Captives of Saiya, Eyras
"Let me go, you bastards." Chi-Chi's voice was menacingly frosty as she glared at her captors. Who, in return, roared with laughter. One of them sneered at her and teasingly reached out to tug on a lock of her ebony mane. Chi-Chi jerked away from his hand, hatred clearly visible in her eyes.
"Keep your hands off me, you asshole!" she hissed warningly, glaring with complete loathing at the man. The tall fighter laughed in cold amusement.
"I pity the one who draws her name from the Basket," he commented to his fellow warriors, all who nodded agreement with his words.
"Leave the captives alone, Raditz. You have your own spouse, so don't torment some of the future mates," an amused voice ordered from within the group of soldiers. A tall, handsome middle-aged man stepped out of the group. Noticing who it was, the man quickly bowed low to the ground.
"All right, Father," he said, as Chi-Chi switched her glare to Raditz's father.
"Bardock, I don't think the prisoner appreciates your help," commented another within the group. Turning to see what the other was talking about, the leader of the troop noticed her defiant stare, and smirked with mirth.
"Something wrong, captive?" he drawled, one finger absently tracing the red scar that made its way down his tanned face.
"Yes," Chi-Chi replied hatefully. "You all should be burning in Hell." The blow was so unexpected that the girl didn't realize she had been slapped until she was sprawled on the earth, her head spinning from the hit. Chi-Chi struggled to get upright, but found her limbs wouldn't obey. So she lay there, feeling her awareness shutting down into unconsciousness.
"Raditz!" Bardock's voice was harsh with suppressed anger, and as the light that was her vision dimmed even more, Chi-Chi heard Raditz mumble an apology. Then everything faded to night, and the throbbing in her head was gone, replaced by oblivion.
Captain Bardock looked fiercely at his red-faced son as he gathered the immobile young woman into his muscular arms, enraged at his offspring's stupidity.
"If she has any permanent damage, the lord will have your hide, Raditz," he seethed, glowering at his middle son. Raditz scuffled in embarrassment, still slightly cross about the loud-mouthed captive's words.
"She deserved it," he mumbled, not meeting his father's eyes as he did so. A sharp box of his ears quickly silenced his mumblings. Ignoring his son's frown, Bardock turned to his troop, his eyes taking in the captives they had captured in Solace, capital of Succor, a neighboring mountain country. He had heard that two other captains had been sent to raid Yellowstone and High Waters, two prominent cities in the flatlands of Gully, a country bordering both Succor and Eyras, the country that Bardock and his family lived in. As he gave the order to march home, he wondered how the other two captains had fared. After all, one of the captains was his oldest progeny.
"Ow! Captain, she bit me!" Turles rolled his eyes at the idiocy of his troop. A small part of him wished he could be back in his father's troop, but the rest was proud that he was finally the leader of a unit, even if they were all brainless. They still got the job done.
"Then take your hand away from her mouth, Yamucha," he suggested, barely managing to keep his voice under control. Scowling at the blue-haired girl who had bitten him, Yamucha followed the plan his chief had told him, and began to suck furiously on the bleeding appendage.
Baring her teeth, the crimson blood on them giving evidence to Yamucha's yelp, the girl snarled, "And I'll do that again to the next bastard feels me up!" Noticing the young woman's exotic beauty, Turles couldn't help but understand Yamucha wanting to lay a hand on her. He sighed slightly in disappointment. Too bad only royals were allowed to have more than one wife, and that Turles already had one. Although by the younger fighters' lustful glances, he could tell that whoever pulled this one's name from the Basket would be extremely envied. All the fighters of the group had the wives the normal coloring of their homeland: black hair, tanned skin, and black eyes. This noisy vixen had azure locks that tumbled wildly halfway down her back, her flesh was fair and unburned, and her eyes were so blue that a man could drown within them. Turles sighed once more. At least he had a pretty wife to content himself with. Others weren't so lucky.
"Come on, spoiled brat," he ordered, giving the girl a rather hard shove back into the captive line. "We've got to go home."
"You mean your home," she grumbled, but grudgingly followed the prisoner in front of her as they began to march from the ruins of High Waters to their territory in Eyras. A place called Saiya.
"Come on, girl, we're not going to hurt you," one of the warriors attempted to say coaxingly, peering up at the tall girl who sat in the branches, glaring furiously down at him.
"Say away from me!" was her angry response, her bright blue eyes flashing. Then Eighteen snorted, almost bitterly amused at his words. "Not going to hurt me? Did you just forget what you did to Yellowstone, you dim jerk?" The bald-headed fighter scowled as some of his companions snickered.
"Get down here, you stupid bitch!" he exploded, his black eyes narrowing. "Before I come up there and get you!" In reply, the incensed girl gave him the finger. With a growl of rage, the fighter grabbed the base of the tree with his powerful hands and began to shake and uproot it. The anger on her face was replaced by shock and horror as Eighteen clung desperately to the branch she sat on, trying not to fall.
"Nappa, leave her alone. I'll get her without you taking the entire tree down," a calm voice commented, and the fighter paused long enough to sneer over his shoulder, "I don't need your help, Kakarrot. You're not even of age yet."
"Sure you do," a younger fighter who emerged from the crowd informed him amiably. "Leave the tree alone for a sec." Without waiting for a reply, the young man called Kakarrot quickly scaled the tree with the skill of someone who had climbed trees often during his childhood. Before Eighteen could even blink, the young warrior had snatched her from the branch by the back of her shirt, and had leapt to the earth. He grinned at Nappa's glare, and carefully set her on her feet, keeping his hand around her neck so she wouldn't run away again.
"Get off me," Eighteen hissed, trying to squirm out of his strong grip. Kakarrot grinned good-naturedly.
"Not if you're going to run away again," he stated firmly. Eighteen eyed the warriors who had stealthily surrounded her, and faintly sighed, all fight draining from her for the moment.
"Fine," she mumbled, not meeting the warrior's eyes. Nodding, Kakarrot released her. He turned to smile at the rest of group.
"Isn't it about time we headed home?" he asked, running a hand through his tousled mane, their usual ebony locks teased by the strong wind.
"Yes," Nappa grumbled, still glaring at both Eighteen and Kakarrot. The girl wasn't sure who he looked on with more hatred. "Let's go home." The troop cheered happily as Eighteen's heart sank. This wasn't good at all...
Meanwhile, the blue-eyed and -haired girl's head was hung low as she miserably marched forward. She wanted to go home, but home was a burning ruin now. She didn't even know if her father and mother were still alive. Bulma Briefs felt tears rise to her eyes, but she forced them away, not wanting any of her captors to see her weeping. She didn't want to give them the satisfaction. Even so, she had to bite her lip, hard, to keep from sobbing aloud. Luckily, none of the warriors noticed her misery, for they were too busy tormenting a sniveling captive. Well, most of them were, that is. Bulma noticed the leader- Turles, hadn't it been?- wasn't joining in any of the taunting. Instead, he was scanning the horizon, looking serious. Maybe not all of them were bastards, she mused to herself, and then shook her head in disagreement. Nah. They all were.
Bardock watched his troop laugh amongst themselves as he carried the unconscious girl that his son had struck. Shifting her slightly in his arms, he studied her face. She was the coloring of his homeland with those jet-black tresses that framed her still face, but he had seen her eyes, which were a deep, deep brown instead of black. Her skin was slightly bronzed by outside work, but she wasn't brown, as were most girls of the land of his birth. Her bone structure and entire frame was delicate, but, recalling the steel in her voice from before, she wasn't as weak as she appeared. All in all, she quite beautiful and lovely to look at. He would be curious to find out who picked her during the Ceremony of Marriage. Wasn't it only a few months away? Around three, he recalled. Shaking his head in annoyance as he noticed a large, unsightly bruise beginning to form on the side of her face where Raditz had hit her, he promised himself he would have a word with his middle son about keeping his temper when dealing with prisoners. Reallocating the girl once more, he continued to walk steadily towards the motherland. Home to his mate, and to see how Turles had done during his first time as captain.
"Welcome home!" was the warm cry that met all three troops' ears as they entered the capital of their lord's large province. The three groups waved to everyone in the gathering, and Kakarrot ignored the death-glares he was receiving from the girl he had captured in the tree as he stood in front of her. Suddenly, everything went quiet as two royal figures walked forward to meet the three groups. The trio of captains bowed formally to the lord and his son.
"Names and reports, Captains?" the lord wanted to know, his arms across his chest and scowl firmly in place. Bardock cleared his throat, and, bowing once more, stepped forward.
"Bardock, milord, Commander of Troop Thirteen," he said officially. "We attacked and burned every single building to the ground in Solace, killing every adult and male or young female child we saw-" At that, several of the captives stifled sobs, but Kakarrot's father ignored them. "We captured fifteen girls coming of age, and brought back seven stallions, five mares, eight sows, three boars, ten chickens, and three roosters, along with valuables we haven't sorted out yet." The Saiyan lord nodded sharply, and Bardock immediately fell silently. It was Turles's turn.
"Turles, sire, Commander of Troop Nineteen. We destroyed the entire city of High Waters, bringing back twelve girls coming of age. We also brought six stallions, six mares, seven sows, five boars, two rooster, one milk cow, and many spoils."
"Nappa, Your Highness, Commander of Troop Twenty-Six. We destroyed the entire city of Yellowstone-" and Kakarrot knew the blond girl was glaring at him "-and have returned with ten girls of age, eight stallions, two mares, four sows, eight boars, two chickens, and one bull." The son of the lord at last spoke, his arrogant words reaching everyone's ears.
"You brought much less than either Turles or Bardock, Nappa. Why?" The bald captain flushed slightly, but that was his only outward sign of embarrassment.
"When we attacked the edge of the city, the inhabitants began destroying anything of value, milord," he replied, a hint of an angry edge in his words. The lord's son sneered in scorn before he retorted.
"Looks like Yellowstone was smarter than you thought, eh Nappa?"
"Damn straight!" a voice mockingly called from right behind Kakarrot. Color drained from his face as he realized it had been the blonde prisoner who had spoken. The lord's son turned, a scowl replacing the smirk.
"Who said that?" he demanded, his obsidian eyes blazing with anger. No one mocked him and got away with it. Kakarrot hesitated, and then stepped aside to reveal the now-smirking young woman.
"She did, Lord Vegeta," he said, pointing at the culprit. "One of the captives." His eyes narrowed, Vegeta stormed over to stand in front of the prisoner.
"Did you think that was funny, girl?" he questioned softly, in a dangerous tone. The girl's smile widened slightly.
"Quite funny," she said, not bothering to add a title. Murmurs of disapproval echoed through the crowd, and Vegeta's cheeks burned crimson.
"You won't be laughing in three months, brat," he sneered, and indeed, the girl's grin vanished.
"I'll be gone in three months," was her determined reply. Vegeta's eyes narrowed to slits, and Kakarrot knew there was going to be trouble if he didn't stop this.
"Yeah, you could be dead," Kakarrot piped up, trying to calm his lord down. Vegeta glared at him.
"Kakarrot?"
"Yes, sire?"
"Shut up." Kakarrot sighed.
"Yes, Lord Vegeta." As the young man watched, Vegeta turned to glower at the captive, but the deadly fury had vanished from his eyes. Kakarrot's distraction had worked.
"I'll enjoy seeing who has the burden of taming you, brat," he sneered, then turned and returned to his father's side as the girl tossed back, "I'll enjoy seeing who tames you, jerk!" Despite his orders, Kakarrot couldn't help but snicker and comment.
"No mate is going to tame him," he informed the girl, still laughing. "It'll be the other way around!"
"Kakarrot?" The young warrior in question looked up to grin goofily at his regal friend.
"Yeah, Lord Vegeta?"
"I thought I told you to shut up."
"Sorry, milord," Kakarrot sighed, ignoring the girl's smirk.
Bulma watched the exchange through narrowed eyes. So that was the lord's son, she concluded, watching the young man, who was around her age, swagger after his father as they left. What an arrogant jerk. But why had that other man called the lord's son Lord Vegeta? In every land, including Eyras, they called the heir to the province the Crown Lord or Lady. Maybe the man was just stupid, she decided, watching him smile inanely. Although he did seem nicer than most of the other warriors around. She shrugged her slender shoulders, then stiffened as the fighter she had bitten turned to her.
"Time to meet the Keeper of the Scrolls, wench," the warrior called Yamucha sneered, gripping her elbow painfully. With a start, she realized that an enemy was accompanying each prisoner to whoever this Keeper of the Scrolls was. She glared at him.
"Get off of me, bastard," she hissed, yanking her elbow from his grasp. Yamucha's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing more, simply motioning for her to follow him. She did so, counting the other young women and noting with some surprise that all looked almost eighteen. Thirty-seven girls, including herself.
"Hurry up!" Yamucha barked, and, rolling her eyes, Bulma grudgingly complied, after glancing curiously back at the still grinning warrior for one quick second and wondering who he was many seconds more.
Having waited until Vegeta had left, Kakarrot hurried over to his father, beaming.
"Hi, Dad!" In return, Bardock handed the inert girl he held to his youngest son.
Kakarrot blinked in confusion, managing a bewildered, "Huh?"
"I'm going to take a bath. You can take this 'un to the Keeper," Bardock verified. His youngest offspring blinked, looking down at the young girl he now held in his arms. The first thing he noticed was the large, ugly bruise that began at the corner of her left eye and ended at her chin. Kakarrot whistled at the purplish bruise.
"Who gave her that?" he questioned, looking up at his father in astonishment. Bardock rolled his eyes.
"Who do you think, Kakarrot?" he asked sardonically. Kakarrot didn't even need to guess.
"Raditz?"
"She deserved it," the middle child of Bardock growled as he passed, dragging a frightened girl behind him. This time, both Kakarrot and Bardock rolled their eyes. Slowly, the girl in Kakarrot's arms stirred, and he smiled kindly down at her as her eyes fluttered open.
"Hello," he said cheerfully to the dazed young woman. Then her eyes, half-hidden by her long dark lashes, widened as her head cleared. Before Kakarrot could even tell her she was safe, she poked him hard in the eye. As Bardock doubled over laughing, his son howled in pain and danced around, still holding the girl in his arms. Enraged, she poked him in the other eye, relentless.
"Let me go!" she shrieked at the same time he yelped loudly, "Stop hurting me!" Glaring at him, she reached up and smacked him hard on the noggin. With a pained whine, he dropped her onto the dust, hands going to his aching forehead. Rubbing his brow aggrievedly, he frowned down at her.
"Why'd you do that?" he questioned in an injured tone. "I wasn't going to hurt you."
"Yeah, more like rape me or something," the girl spat at him from her position on the ground, glowering defiantly up at him. Kakarrot sighed. Why was he stuck with all the insufferable women today?
"You're just as bad as that blonde," he commented, still holding his forehead. "I'm not going to rape you, or any of the captives. None of us are allowed to touch any of you like that, unless you want us to."
"Well," the young woman began heatedly, "I don't want-" She stopped as a pained yell resounded through the empty gathering-place. Bardock, Kakarrot, and the dark-haired girl turned in time to watch the blonde from earlier crumple halfway to the ground, clutching at her left hand in a way that suggested that her wrist was broken. Nappa towered over her, his look murderous.
"Looks like you won't be climbing any trees any time soon, does it?" he gloated, raising his massive hand to strike her on her unmarred face. Instantly, Kakarrot was there, the look in his eyes pure wrath as his temper finally got the better of him.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Nappa?" he asked dangerously, his tone even more deadly than Vegeta's had been. He realized that he had actually blasphemed for once, and that he hadn't used a proper label for the captain, but right now he really didn't give a damn. Nappa took one look at his face and gulped, but stayed stubborn.
"Teaching this bitch some lessons," he growled, his hand moving slightly upward to retrace its previous attempted swing. Kakarrot had shattered the older fighter's wrist before either had known what was happening.
As his commander fell to his knees with a surprised cry of pain, Kakarrot avowed calmly and impersonally, "Next time, Captain, remember that when a woman is a captive in Saiya, no warrior is allowed to harm her." Leaving Nappa to his injury, he turned to the young woman, and found her scowling at him.
"I could have taken care of him myself," she snapped, and Kakarrot rolled his eyes, his infrequent fury draining away to be locked tightly within to wait for another rare outburst like the one that had just occurred.
"I'm going to get my ass kicked by Lord Vegeta because of that incident, and you're mad at me for helping you?" he reckoned, and when she nodded, sighed. What a thank-you. Turning, he called out to one of his friends who had stayed behind to watch the captives go to the Keeper, "Krillin!"
The extremely stunted-in-height man walked over, and from behind him, Kakarrot heard the blonde stifle a snigger.
"Yeah, Kakarrot?" he questioned, unable to hide a grin as he neatly stepped around Nappa.
"Could you take this girl to the Keeper? I'm taking someone already, and it doesn't... look like Nappa is up for it," Kakarrot commented, and the two friends shared a smirk and a laugh as Nappa cursed at him.
Krillin, still grinning, nodded and said, "Sure." He stepped up to the girl, who had struggled to her feet, and looked up... and up... and up.
"Hi," he said with an impish smile. "Do you want to go to the infirmary after seeing the Keeper?" he added, noticing her swelling wrist. The blonde woman rolled her eyes.
"No shit, shortie," she drawled, causing Krillin's grin to fade slightly. He was tired of being mocked by people just because he was the shortest seventeen-year-old Saiyan ever.
"The name's Krillin," he emphasized, and the woman tossed her head, looking uninterested.
"Whatever," she remarked, her voice holding an odd twang as she spoke. Nevertheless, the short fighter frowned.
"Krillin," he persisted, gazing stubbornly up at her. The blonde smirked, and shook her head, sending golden curls everywhere. Unconsciously, Krillin followed the locks, and found himself flushing with embarrassment as they landed a little lower than her throat. The young woman's smirk widened as she noticed the look.
Ducking his head, Krillin muttered, "C'mon. Let's go introduce you to the Keeper."
"Oh, lead on, Krillin the Short," the young woman quipped sarcastically, laying a hand on his shoulder. Struggling hard to keep the blood from rushing to his face at the sensation of a beautiful girl's hand on him, the Saiyan decided her version of his name would have to do.
"Then let's go then," he said, quickly pulling from her grasp before she could humiliate him anymore. He caught Kakarrot's amused look, and glared at his friend before hurrying in the direction of the Temple and hearing her footsteps behind him as she followed.
Kakarrot grinned, watching the two opposites head off before turning to find the girl who had poked him the eyes watching him with an odd look on her face. The young warrior looked questioningly at her, and the look disappeared, replaced by a familiar scowl.
"Who is this Keeper, anyway?" she demanded irritably, her full lips pursed in a frown. Kakarrot shrugged, brushing away the thought that she was pretty when she wasn't glaring at him.
"I'll explain it on the way," he said, and as he led the girl to the Temple, he did.
The Keeper of the Scrolls had been at the Temple since before anyone could remember. Even Lord Vegeta's grandfather, before the lord had killed him during the succession to the throne, didn't know how old the ancient, perverted man called Master Roshi was. Even as perverted as the elderly man was, he nevertheless was the Keeper, but recorded everyone's names and histories in the Books of Saiya. Every birth, marriage, and death was recorded in the Books. And so it was he who worked the Ceremony of Marriage. On a date Roshi chose, those who have had their coming of age for turning eighteen during the year gather at the Temple, dressed in ceremonial clothing. The young men drew names from the Basket of Choosing, and whoever's name was on the slip of scroll was from then on his wife. After all had been paired, the Ceremony began, and after a month of being completely alone with their new mates, they returned to their regular lives, although they now lived together. And that was the way it had always been.
The young woman looked at him in disbelief when he had finished.
"Do you mean to tell me," she squawked, gaping, "that you choose a name from a basket and whoever her name is, you marry her?" Kakarrot smiled at her.
"You mean we. All the captives' names are being written in the Books," he informed her brightly, and the girl looked as if she was about to faint.
"Here you go," Yamucha said gruffly to someone within the stone castle, and shoved Bulma inside, closing the door with a loud boom of finality. Bulma shifted, glancing around the temple in a mixture of confusion and awe at what she saw.
The very walls were made of pure gold, and the mosaics on them were not made of stone, but of valuable jewels such as sapphires and rubies. There was only two pieces of furniture within the enormous room. A gigantic pedestal that propped up the largest book she had ever seen that was titled 'Life Records', and a small, rickety rocking chair with an extremely old man residing in it.
Bulma nearly laughed aloud, but controlled herself. The aged gentleman looked up from the book, in which he had been writing with a large quill of blackest sable to grin at her and reveal he was missing several teeth.
"Well, hello beautiful," he called, his eyes hidden by an odd darkness in his glasses. "What might your name be?" When Bulma hesitated, he cackled, adding, "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm not going to tell anyone." At last, she gave in. The old man would probably forget her name within minutes anyway.
"Bulma Briefs." The ancient scribbled it down in the enormous book, and for a second she was alarmed. Then she relaxed, recalling Yamucha growling to her that only the Keeper ever read the Books. She wondered where the rest of the Books were, since they were always mentioned in plural form, and then pushed the thought aside.
"Your parents?"
"Doctor William Briefs and Madam Andrea Fox-Briefs."
"Any siblings?"
"No."
"Your place of birth?"
"High Waters, Gully."
"Your age?"
"Seventeen, but my birthday is in three days." To her surprise, the old man beamed, as if the answer pleased him.
"Are you engaged or married?"
"No," Bulma said, snorting at the thought. "I'm never getting married. Father said I didn't have to if I didn't want to." The ancient chuckled, but continued with the questions.
"Occupation?" Bulma grinned proudly as she answered.
"Head Scientist of High Waters City." The old man looked dully impressed, cracking her another toothy grin.
"That's all the information I needed," he stated, standing. Bulma could have sworn she heard his ancient bones creak as he hobbled towards her. "Good luck, Bulma Briefs."
"Thank you, sir," she replied, slightly mystified by his words.
"Please, call me Roshi. Would you do something for this poor, old man?" he suddenly asked, his manner wheedling. Bulma eyed him, and then shrugged.
"Come here." He beckoned her with a long, bony finger. Still a trifle wary of his attitude, she obeyed, leaning forward as he whispered something in her ear. The azure-haired girl listened for a moment, her face blank. Abruptly, she jerked away, glaring furiously at him.
"You... You perverted retched man!" she shouted, her face flushing red as she clenched her fists. "I'm going to kill you!" At that statement, the door flew open and Yamucha raced inside, looking anxious. When he saw she hadn't followed through with her threat, he looked relieved before bowing to Roshi, who was still grinning coaxingly at Bulma.
"I'll take her from your presence, Master," he informed the Keeper calmly, before latching onto Bulma's arm with an iron-like grasp that she couldn't escape. As she screamed obscenities at both the Saiyan fighter and the perverted Keeper, Yamucha dragged her from the Temple.
Eighteen glared at the Keeper, instantly disliking him. He, however, smiled winningly back.
"I just need you to answer a couple of questions," he told her cheerfully. "No one else will know any of your history but the Book and I."
"But me and the Book," Eighteen corrected absently, but the Keeper ignored her, picking up his quill once more.
"Name?"
"Eighteen." Roshi looked up, shaking his head.
"Not your age, your name," he corrected.
"My name is Eighteen," she growled. "E-I-G-H-T-E-E-N. I have no last name." The Keeper blinked slowly.
"Oh." She watched him write it down.
"I'm also eighteen in years. I turned eighteen exactly a week and two days ago." She didn't like the pleased look that flitted across his face, and scowled.
"Your parents?"
"Scientist Gerald Gero and Lady Gerri Brown."
"Any siblings?"
"An older brother named Seventeen. He's two years and five days older than me."
"Your place of birth?"
'Yellowstone, Gully."
"Are you engaged or married?"
"No," Eighteen said with venom. "I plan to be a spinster, and a rich one at that."
"Occupation?" the Keeper asked, seemingly on the verge of hysterics.
"Student at Yellowstone University, with a double major in Politics and Industry."
"That will be all," Roshi said, then paused, eyeing her speculatively. Eighteen scowled. She didn't like that look.
"What?" she demanded, but he only grinned and pointed at her.
"You're very lovely, do you know that?" the Keeper asked slyly. Her eyes narrowed, and she didn't reply. Her hands slowly balled into fists as he creakingly stood from his chair and made his way towards her.
"Stay away from me," she said dangerously, when he was a few feet away. Roshi smirked and took another step towards her. He never saw her coming. One instant he was walking towards her, the next second he was in his rocking chair, his head aching from a hard blow. Blinking hard, the Keeper peered around, only to see the open doorway and that the blonde had disappeared. He sighed with disappointment, and began to rock once more.
Once Chi-Chi had managed to assure the extremely confusing Saiyan that she wasn't going to keel over, they made their way into the Temple where Master Roshi waited. As they did so, she eyed the Saiyan, unsure of how to label him. At first, she had thought he was merely the sort of harmless fellow who had been dropped on his head as a child. Now, after he had broken that other Saiyan's wrist, she knew he wasn't harmless. Even as she remembered the look of wrath on his face, she shivered slightly. Luckily, the goofily grinning Saiyan didn't notice. Chi-Chi hadn't realized they had entered the Temple until he spoke.
"If he tries anything, call me," suggested the Saiyan, who had never introduced himself, loud enough for the old man, most likely Master Roshi, to hear him. As the young fighter exited the Temple, the Keeper glared after him. Finally noticing Chi-Chi watching him, he managed a hurried smile.
"Name?" Chi-Chi chewed on her lower lip, hesitating on telling the old man her birth name. But he didn't seem able to even leave the Temple, so she finally told him.
"Lady Chi-Chi of Solace." Master Roshi stared at her, looking almost amused for a moment.
"Parents?"
"The duke of Solace, also known as the Ox King, and Lady Chi-Tin Pastille."
"Siblings?"
"None."
"Age?"
"I'm turning eighteen in four weeks."
"Place of birth?"
"Solace, Succor."
"Are you married or engaged?" Chi-Chi snorted at that.
"My parents wish," she replied dryly, recalling the numerous suitors, all wanting to gain the duke's favor.
"Occupation?"
"Being a lady at Solace Castle, and being a captive of the Saiyans?" Chi-Chi suggested sarcastically, and Roshi laughed loudly.
"I like your attitude." The Keeper gazed at her for a moment, looking almost hopeful, then with a nervous glance towards the door and the Saiyan that waited outside he at last shook his head and motioned for her to go.
"Don't worry, milady. I'll keep your secret," he called after just as she reached the door. Turning, she grinned a real, happy smile for the first time in ages, a grin that lit up her face and made her absolutely beautiful.
"Thank you, Master Roshi."
Roshi was still staring when she closed the door behind her.
"Let's go," the girl said, actually sounding cheerful as she turned to close the exit. When she turned to face Kakarrot, he found his breath suddenly gone.
The girl looked stunning when she smiled. When she did, her face glowed with an almost heavenly radiance, and her eyes... Her eyes softened until they were like pools of darkest chocolate...
She suddenly noticed him staring, and instantly the smile was gone, and so was the radiance. Kakarrot finally caught his breath, and gave her a sheepish smile, although why he felt so embarrassed he didn't know.
"I'll show you to your room. You'll be sharing it with two other captives," he informed her. She nodded, and Kakarrot led the way to the captive wing of his lord's palace.
Bulma looked up as a cheerful masculine voice reached her ears.
"This will be your living room, which has an exit to the hallway, and a door that lead to the bathroom and three doors for the bedrooms," he was saying. "I hope you like it-" Then the door swung open, and a Saiyan and a fellow captive stepped inside. The girl was a dark-haired beauty who looked around the large, spacious first room of her quarters.
"Oh I do," she quipped sardonically. The Saiyan, which Bulma recognized as the goofy one who always called the lord's son Lord Vegeta, didn't seem to notice, and smiled childishly with delight.
"Good," he said. "I've got to go visit Lord Vegeta." Then his voice changed, and he sounded as if he was reading from a manual. "If you need anything, pull that chord-" he pointed to the golden cord that ran out into the hallway "-and a servant will come to help you. You'll be served all meals here, unless told otherwise. You'll be called to the courtyard tomorrow an hour or two after breakfast. I guess that's it." Giving her a grin, he nodded to the other two in the room before disappearing out of the door. The girl stared after him for a moment, looking oddly bewildered, then turned to smile shyly at her roommates.
"Hello," Bulma said, introducing herself.
"I'm Eighteen," their last roommate informed her, giving the girl a rare smile.
"I'm Chi-Chi," she imparted, once more bashfully. Eighteen looked blank, but Bulma gaped at the girl.
"Chi-Chi?" Bulma repeated. "As in, Chi-Chi the daughter of the Ox King and only niece of King Zen of Succor?" Even Eighteen had heard of the two men, and looked wide-eyed.
Chi-Chi timidly nodded but added, looking furtively around, "Please don't tell anyone. I don't want any of the Saiyans knowing. If my father and uncle are still alive, they might use me to get to them or something." Both girls nodded solemnly, and then all were silent for a long moment, not knowing what to say. At last, one of them piped up.
"Well, what happened to you two?" Bulma inquired, noticing the girls' injuries. Eighteen looked down, absently fingering the brace that held her wrist in place. That short Saiyan had taken her to the infirmary after seeing the Keeper, then to her room before disappearing to who knows where.
"One of those commanders did it," she muttered, the very incident making her cheeks flush angrily.
"And then that crazy Saiyan broke his wrist," Chi-Chi added, with a note of satisfaction in her voice. Eighteen looked briefly surprised, then grinned in malicious pleasure.
"That he did." Bulma raised an eyebrow, having been dragged off by Yamucha before the event.
"Well, what happened to you?" she asked Chi-Chi.
"One of the Saiyan in the troop who captured me got mad when I yelled at his father, and hit me," the girl replied quickly, her hand instinctively going to hide the bruise.
"He hit you pretty hard," Eighteen commented, and Bulma nodded agreement. Suddenly Eighteen eyed the blue-haired girl.
"Nothing's happened to you," she stated matter-of-factly. Bulma blinked, then shrugged.
"Not yet." Chi-Chi and Eighteen looked at each other, and both slowly grinned. Bulma glanced at them warily. She didn't like that look. Her eyes followed Chi-Chi as she walked over to a reading table and rummaged through the drawer. Grinning triumphantly, Chi-Chi turned to reveal a large pair of scissors in her hand.
"What are you going to do with that?" Bulma demanded, eyeballing the scissors guardedly. Chi-Chi grinned mischievously.
"There can be no perfect roommates. You must be flawed."
Bulma snorted in disbelief. "What, are you going to try and cut my cheek or something?"
"Cut your cheek?" repeated Chi-Chi, smirking evilly. "No, I'm going to cut something much worse... Your hair." The blue-eyed woman's hands instinctively flew to her lengthy azure locks, her pride and joy.
"You are not cutting my hair!" she declared firmly, then screamed loudly as Eighteen lunged for her. The young woman leapt out of harm's way and raced around the room as the other two girls chased her, the former screeching piercingly and the two latter laughing madly.
None of them noticed the door open until a thunderous voice roared, "Just what the hell is going on here?" The three teenagers froze, wide-eyed, before slowly turning to face the doorway.
A dreadfully irritated Vegeta, an extremely baffled Kakarrot, and an incredibly amused Krillin stared back, all with their arms crossed against their chests.
To be continued...
