Chapter 47

Zarbon stared at the blank communicator screen, having just hailed the ships and telling them to wait for a while, and now he contemplated calling Arlia. What disturbed him wasn't the need to call Arlia, but the need to call Nappa. He found he had to talk to the bald man as soon as possible. If Nappa even knew the answer, but as the eldest Saiyan he was sure to be more versed in tradition and Saiyan foibles than the other two. Zarbon narrowed his eyes, pressing his index finger against his upper lip as he thought. The wedding was tomorrow, the preparations beginning at dawn. Would it make a difference whether he knew now or in a few weeks? That damn Vegeta was going to do whatever he wanted, whether Zarbon approved or not. He snarled to himself- that woman had been nothing but trouble from day one. Stupid Bulma. Stupid Vegeta. Giving in to some sort of bizarre base impulse. Was Vegeta responding to some sort of hormone she was giving off that provoked a nesting response? What could possibly be going on?

He had tried to talk to Radditz, even going so far to make an appearance at Goku's home. The larger Saiyan had looked at him skeptically, but when Zarbon had elaborated upon Vegeta's vague hints and references, a light went on in Radditz's eyes and he had paled, nearly all the color leaving his usually tawny complexion. He had promptly shut his mouth and flatly refused to discuss the matter altogether, only muttering his apparent disbelief to himself. Zarbon had left in confusion, in the end not really surprised by his behavior. Even if Radditz hadn't looked so shocked or the subject obviously been so strange he would have doubted the Saiyan would have revealed much; he hated Vegeta for taking' Bulma away from him. Yes, Zarbon was fairly certain that deep down Radditz hated Vegeta for that, and would forever, as doggedly as Radditz loved Vegeta by virtue that Vegeta was the Saiyan Prince. No information would be forthcoming from Radditz soon, nor most likely ever.

Which left Nappa. Zarbon continued to scowl at the blank screen, tapping his finger now against his upper lip. Come to think of it, Nappa really had been the one to raise Vegeta, and so would most likely have the most insight of anyone. Supposing, of course, that Nappa was actually intelligent enough to have insights. Nappa was the closest thing Vegeta had ever had to a father while growing up, and Zarbon seriously doubted that Vegeta knew how many times Nappa had been beaten nearly to death because he had taken the fall for errors that were actually Vegeta's. He suddenly had no doubt that Nappa actually loved Vegeta like a son, if family ties meant anything at all to Saiyans. Even if family didn't mean much, duty certainly did, and it was Nappa's duty to see to the Prince. Yes, Nappa would certainly know what was going on.

So the question was: reveal to Nappa his suspicions? To leave it alone until they got to Arlia? It was a delicate situation. He feared that if he told Nappa Vegeta was marrying, and who, and why, the news would be all over the galaxy in a matter of days, and that would be the end of that. The last thing he needed was for Vegeta to return to his base and find himself in the middle of a scandal. Zarbon groaned and put his head in his hand. Was there ever a day when it was easy to deal with Vegeta? He allowed himself a dry chuckle and stood slowly, closing the communicator. It would have to wait until Arlia. For today and tomorrow he would be far too busy to worry about it anyway, and in the week after the wedding he would be occupied loading cargo onto the other ship and making sure everything went smoothly in general. He looked quickly at the clock on the wall. Speaking of smooth, he should get going down to the kitchen right now and make certain that Mrs. Briefs had carried out all the necessary steps in planning the wedding of the leader of the New Saiyan Empire.

He lay facedown on his bed, exhausted from the day's frenzy of planning, and simply listened to himself breathe. He hadn't even bothered to change out of his clothes or take them off to sleep, instead letting his eyes drift closed as sleep began to creep over him. He was just dropping off when he heard the single knock at his door, the rap assertive and demanding. Standing, he sighed and ambled over to the door, squinting in the light of the hall as he saw Vegeta at his chamber's entrance.

We need to talk, Vegeta grumbled, pushing his way past Zarbon and into the room.

Whatever for? Zarbon protested, returning to his bed and flopping down upon it. I'm exhausted and we both have big days ahead of us tomorrow.

That's what I'm here to talk about, Vegeta said, annoyed.

Zarbon sat upright, eyes wide. Why? Have you decided to cancel? he asked brightly, hope briefly flickering in his chest.

Vegeta said, his cheeks inexplicably staining pink.

Than what is this about? Zarbon asked testily, the need to sleep growing ever more urgent.

Tomorrow night. And the next several nights after that, Vegeta replied, his voice low and his gaze fastened upon the floor. We're going on a honeymoon'. Do you know what that means?

Zarbon scowled and tilted his head to the side. Well, if only the marrying couple gets to go, and it lasts for so long, I'd have to say that it means you're going to screw your brains out until someone comes to get you.

That's the point of this conversation, Vegeta said sharply.

Zarbon blinked at him, confused. Well, then, what do you need to know from me? he asked, curious.

Vegeta looked furiously at the floor, the color on his cheeks darkening. You've been with human women... he muttered.

A chuckle escaped Zarbon's throat. Oh, I get it. You want to know what to do. What she'll like, that sort of thing.

Vegeta scowled more intensely. Finally got through your thick skull, eh? Vegeta snapped. So are you going to tell me or not?

Zarbon let a smile spread across his face crookedly. Well, every woman is different, but with your little telepathic parlor tricks you should be able to get a pretty good idea of what she wants right from her mind. Then just warm her up and take it from there, he said breezily.

Vegeta mumbled something under his breath and scratched at his bicep.

Zarbon chuckled again. Okay, okay. I'll teach you everything I know. Mind you, you won't be a master like I am the first few times, but just remember that nothing is really expected to go well the first time, and Saiyan princes are no exception. But, as with all things, you'll get better with practice.

This is not the sort of thing I want to hear, Vegeta growled.

Zarbon allowed himself another wry smile. Do you really want to hear any of this from another living being? he asked with a chuckled.

Vegeta scowled harder and glared at the floor. Absolutely not, and I expect your utter and complete silence on the subject until well after you're dead.

Zarbon shrugged, leaning back. Well, then, here goes nothing...

He had slept poorly. His neck had developed several kinks during the night and he was positive someone else must have come into his room and tampered with his hair, because some of the knots just simply would not come out. Fine green eyebrows drew into a frown as he stumbled across the hallway to the bathroom, wincing as he looked at himself in the mirror. Yes, he was an absolute mess. He grabbed a hairbrush out of the drawer and began to slowly work through the tangles in his shining green mane, whistling softly to himself. He picked up a piece of hair and was carefully moving the bristles of the brush through it when he realized someone was watching him- he could see the reflection in the mirror before him. he asked sharply, covering his surprise.

That tune is beautiful, Bulma murmured. Where is it from?

Zarbon snorted bitterly. My home planet, he said curtly.

Bulma's face gleamed with curiosity. Oh, and where's that?

Listen, I'm not really in the mood. Not much of a morning person, Zarbon replied, continuing to brush his hair.

Why? What happened to it? she asked.

Cataclysmic climate changes. My planet was effectively conquered by Freeza. Let's just leave it at that, Zarbon said tersely. Are you done interrogating me?

Bulma paled. Oh, no, that's not what I meant, she said with a gasp. I'm sorry.

No problem. Now what do you want?

She looked at the floor for a minute, pursing her mouth. I was wondering if you knew why Vegeta was doing this, she said slowly, as if the words tasted dangerous on her lips.

It's your wedding day. Don't you have to primp or something? Zarbon said, temper still short.

You do too, she retorted. Now tell me: what do you know?

Zarbon turned away from the mirror and faced her. I know nothing, mainly because that is what Vegeta told me. Satisfied? If it were up to me... he said, stiffening and cutting himself short.

If it were up to you what? Bulma prompted, narrowing an eye.

You wouldn't be marrying the Prince tonight. You'd stay here and Vegeta would go off into the stars, where he could marry someone, or several someones, if he saw fit, who would help him unite or strengthen his empire. But I'm not a stupid man, and I know better than when to argue with Vegeta. He wants you in some fundamental way that I don't understand and would do anything to have you. That's all I can tell you, because that's all I know.

She looked at him levelly for several moments. You're important to him, she said unexpectedly, her face calm and composed. None of the earlier jitters she had exhibited before were present whatsoever. You might be jealous of me now, but when the time comes it will be you he turns to, not me, she said flatly, and walked away as suddenly as she had come.

Zarbon turned his body back to the mirror, surprised by the look of raw anger and pain on his face. Tentatively, he reached out and placed his fingertips on his reflection, the glass cold and smooth beneath his skin. It is going to be a very long day, he murmured to himself, and decided it was high time to get dressed.

Isn't this great? Goku crowed from his seat in the front row, bouncing Gohan in his lap.

Gohan agreed heartily, earning a shush from ChiChi.

Goku, he's old enough to sit in his own chair, she said roughly. He must learn some sort of manners. I don't want him to grow up to be a barbarian like his father.

Goku turned liquid black eyes on her, blinking rapidly. Aw, ChiChi, doesn't this remind you at all of when we got married? he asked sweetly. They even have some of the same flowers.

ChiChi's face softened for a moment. Very well, Goku, she said quietly. You just behave yourself, okay, Gohan?

Yes, Mommy, Gohan said, clinging to his father.

She grunted her approval and continued to sit straight in her chair, only glancing over a few times at the huge bulk of a man that sat next to her husband. Radditz's mane spilled down the back of the chair and brushed the ground, his face taut and pale in the warm light of the torches and lanterns. It had been quite a task to get him to agree to come at all, and she had thought they would lose the battle altogether until Goku had asked him where his duty to the Saiyan race had gone, that he wouldn't even see his Prince wed. ChiChi's brow furrowed. Nothing good would come of this union, she was sure of it. It had been painfully obvious during the last bit of time just how attached Radditz had become to Bulma, and how in love with her, although the warrior never came out and admitted it. How it must sting his insides to have to sit and watch her be wed to someone else. Are you comfortable? she asked him suddenly, leaning over so she could see him past Goku.

He looked over at her with cold eyes. I'm fine, he said, hunching his shoulders in the suit. Mrs. Briefs had sent it over the day before, and ChiChi could see the resemblance between the brothers when they were dressed alike. The eyes, of course, were identical, angular as all Saiyans' eyes seemed to be, but aside from the hair their facial bone structures were alike, although Goku's were more rounded than Radditz's. Both were good looking men, she realized with a start. Too bad Radditz was so stuck on Bulma; she was sure he could find someone else if he had a mind to look. She was startled from her thoughts as the small group suddenly went silent, and she only had time for one more thought before things were set in motion: here we go, ready or not.

He walked up the aisle between the two sides of folding chairs, not giving a sideways glance to any members of the small assembly. Holding his head high, he marched to the little altar at the front, making sure his heavy crimson cape didn't drag on the ground. He could feel Zarbon only a heartbeat behind him, scarcely able to hear the man's footfalls because of the way his heart was pounding away in his chest. He realized with surprise that the palms of his gloved hands were sweating profusely, even though the late summer night was not hot in the least. The little man standing near the altar was holding his hands over a book and pressing it to his abdomen, looking at Vegeta with apparent interest from behind his spectacles, but Vegeta strode up to him and turned to the side, glancing down the aisle at where she would be entering, the glance exhibiting the nervousness he felt.

The glance did not go unnoticed. Zarbon scowled inwardly as he took his place by Vegeta, standing to the side and a little behind the Prince. Vegeta wasn't sure if she would show up, he realized with sudden clarity. Was there a chance that she wouldn't? He reflected on that thought momentarily; she certainly had been tardy in giving Vegeta an answer to his proposal in the first place, or so he had surmised. She had nearly let Vegeta go off into space. He mused for a minute on how it would affect Vegeta if she never showed up. A smile touched the corner of his mouth briefly, for he realized if Bulma didn't come to her own wedding, Earth's existence would be forfeit. He wondered if Vegeta knew already what course of action he would take or if he had completely ignored the possibility. A wrinkle appeared between his brows as he took in Vegeta, looking exceedingly regal. He himself had laid out the Emperor's wedding clothes- it was fortunate Vegeta had brought that ceremonial armor along after all. It just wasn't the ceremony they expected, that was all. Zarbon felt a sort of brotherly pride as Vegeta stood straight, the crest of Vejiitasei shining glossy red on the white left breast of his chestplate, the stomach and epaulets gilded with gold. The crimson cape hung to the ground, and the two gold fasteners on his shoulders gleamed in the gentle lantern light. The illumination also softened the sharp angles of Vegeta's face, making him look younger and more pleasant than he actually was. Zarbon wished suddenly for a painting of how Vegeta looked at that moment, standing regal and pensive, his gaze directed to the future and the soft light hiding the shadows of death that always lurked in the man's eyes. He noticed as Vegeta's white-gloved hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, the tip of his tail lashing back and forth from underneath the cape. He let his gaze wander over the crowd, seeing all the Earth warriors there. Even the Namekian was there, seated in the back with his turban resting in his lap, his chin on his chest and arms crossed. Goku, lamentably, was in the front, cooing and pointing things out to Gohan, who sat in the chair beside him.
Then he saw Radditz's face. The tall warrior sat as if carved from stone, his dark eyes staring off into the shadows beyond the lanterns. The Saiyan's expression was pinched and bitter, fine lines present at the corner of his mouth and between his brows. Zarbon frowned to himself; he would have to remember the insult to Radditz and see if there wasn't some way to make up for it. Vegeta could afford no weak link, and if Radditz could be persuaded to be a traitor to his Prince because of an injury the whole empire could very well go down in flames. He heard the shifting of rears in seats and stepped back into the shadows, raising his eyes to the end of the aisle just beyond the light. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Vegeta's posture become even more upright than it had been before and the Saiyan froze, his chest not even rising with his breath.

Bulma had stepped into the aisle, moving slowly between the chairs, her eyes fixed on the altar. Everyone stood and the only music that accompanied her was the chirping of the crickets in the grass all around them. The full skirt of her gauzy gown fluttered around her as she glided along, the fitted, strapless bodice gleaming softly in the warm light. She paused at the base of the altar, her blue eyes fixing upon Vegeta and she extended a satin-gloved hand. His dark eyes stared at it, the torchlight flickering as it was reflected in those black depths like a thing drowning, and he raised his gaze to her face. Bulma's expression was also stony, and with resignation she reached up above her elbow and hooked a finger into the glove, pulling it off in one smooth motion before extending her hand to him again, this time bare. He blinked at her once, then removed his own white glove, taking his hand in hers as she climbed the short set of steps. He tried to remove his hand once she had mounted the little raised platform beside him, but her fingers clamped down and held him fast. The corner of his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly, and then the two of them turned so that the ceremony could commence.

The vows were brief and to the point, very much a traditional Earthling ceremony. At the end Bulma insisted upon slipping a gold ring onto Vegeta's finger, and he returned the favor at her behest. Then the priest declared for the husband to kiss the bride, but instead Vegeta gave her one look and threw his head back towards the sky, his gaze studying the stars before his throat opened and emitted a low, ringing tone. Zarbon shivered as the frequency seemed to resonate within him, the sound raw and animal and yet somehow etherial at the same time. Then, to his surprise, Radditz threw his head back and uttered another tone, this note above Vegeta's so that the two reverberated together. The sound arched and reached up towards the heavens, and then was suddenly joined by a third tone. Goku, eyes glazed, had opened up his voice as well, and the chord became perfect, the sound piercing the soul and sending it off into the stars. The sound swelled and came to a head, then burst into the air with a shimmering beauty before being swept away by the late summer breeze. Zarbon felt tingling run along his spinal column as he realized what had just happened had not been part of a normal Saiyan joining ritual. He hadn't ever heard of Saiyans singing, but the effect had been as profound as it had been startling. Glancing over at Radditz nervously he was surprised to see that the man's face was still drawn and pale, but filled with a bit of resignation and acceptance. Then he heard people cheer, and his head snapped over just in time to see Bulma grab Vegeta's head on either side and kiss him heartily. He blushed and backed away indignantly, but Zarbon noticed his tail slip around her waist just the same.

That was gorgeous! Mrs. Briefs, sobbed, clutching a handkercheif as she rushed up to the newlyweds. I have the most handsome son-in-law in the universe!

Now, dear, Dr. Briefs said with a pat and a smile, his eyes also wet with tears behind his glasses. We need to be happy for our little girl.

I am sooo happy! Mrs. Briefs wailed, throwing her arms around the startled Vegeta. You take care of our princess, okay?

Vegeta blinked at her in alarm, trying desperately to move out of her grip.

He will, Bulma said with a slidelong, threatening look at Vegeta. He will. Now go get something to drink. Other people want to say hello.

Mrs. Briefs nodded, dabbing at her eyes as her husband led her slowly away. Radditz suddenly loomed in front of them, his eyes narrowing as he stared down at Vegeta. You should have told me things were like that with her, he said softly.

I didn't know they were that way until just recently, Vegeta said defensively.

That changes everything. Does she know? Radditz demanded quietly.

Vegeta didn't even glance at Bulma. It wasn't intentional. If I had had a choice you would have gotten what you wanted and we'd all be happier, he replied gruffly.

Radditz nodded once, face still impassive. Indeed. Now that you've sung the tones for her you'll have to take care of her for life or yours will be forfeit. The Prince you may be, Vegeta, but the Saiyan code has a way of protecting itself no matter how strong you might get.

Vegeta snorted disdainfully. I am aware of that.

Raddotz turned to Bulma, his eyes warming and he took her ungloved hand, suddenly kneeling and pressing it to his lips. Welcome, my Empress, he whispered, and looked up at her for a few longing moments before moving away once again.

Bulma stared after him. What did he mean? she whispered.

Vegeta fingered the golden ring on his hand. This isn't the time. If you can't figure it out then you aren't supposed to know. I would be violating an ancient trust if I were to say more.

But it's important? she asked.

Above all else, was all he would say, and she bowed her head, taking congratulations and thanking her guests once again, a cold, hard feeling settling in her stomach during what should have been her hour of joy.


The wedding had started late in the day and the reception even later. The dancing and food had lasted for some time, with dancing still happening on the lawn. Bulma sat in a chair nursing her aching feet, rubbing her ankles as she watched other people move about to the music. Vegeta had only danced with her once the entire night, instead leaning against the table with the punch bowl on it, his arms crossed over his chest as his eyes followed her. Zarbon had mostly remained in the shadows as well, his golden eyes fixed upon the Prince the entire time. Radditz had remained, sullen, after the pleading of his brother, and now sat at a table distant from hers with Gohan nodding off in his lap. She wondered for a brief moment if she had made a horrible, irreparable mistake. She didn't love Vegeta. Why was she leaving everyone else she knew and loved for him? Scowling, she beckoned to Vegeta, who immediately saw her and then pretended that he hadn't. She tried again but still he ignored her. He continued to act like she didn't exist until her hand gestures became so outlandish he noticed her out of sheer embarassment. She watched with satisfaction as the clean lines of his muscles moved beneath his bodysuit, the red cape snapping imperiously behind him, and suddenly she found herself having very, very impure thoughts. They were married now, after all...and as she thought these things she watched as his eyes grew wide and he looked at her warily. Something occured to her and she looked at him craftily, deliberately imagining her hand running up the inside of his thigh and raising an eyebrow in interest as he shuddered. She stood and he closed the distance between them, scowling more intently as she put her arms around his neck. We're married. We don't have to wait any longer, she whispered into his ear.

He narrowed his eyes at her. You're certain?

Dammit, do I have to spell it out for you? she hissed, surreptitiously grazing the base of his tail with her hand.

He spasmed slightly with the touch. he shouted, ignoring her squeal as he hoisted her into the air. We're leaving.

Zarbon materialized out of nowhere. he asked, golden eyes shimmering.

Yes. We'll see you in six days to prepare for departure. See to it that her things are packed, Vegeta ordered.

Of course, Zarbon started to say, but to his astonishment all that was left of them was the echo of Bulma's squeal of delight as they had taken off into the sky.