A.N. Ah, another chapter a lot later than I expected to put one out. Be warned that this chapter is much shorter than the previous chapter... so don't jump at me with sporks and spatulas. It'd be appreciated. Oh, and thanks for giving my ass the support it needs to keep on sitting! ^_^
disclaimer: Heh... kinda forgot the disclaimer throughout the entire story... again. Anyway, we all know I don't own it. Toriyama-sensei and Toei Animation studies do... damn them.
Pan forced herself to breathe, her breath having refused to come after her realization. She had to stay calm; she had to quell her fear. It was essential she show no weakness, for she knew she would get no mercy from the man behind this door.
She watched anxiously as Trunks casually knocked on the door, before he turned to Pan, a serious and arrogant look plastered on his face, "You will refer to me as 'My Lord' from now on. Do not speak unless spoken too, and show nothing but the utmost respect towards myself or anyone else in this palace." Pan clenched her teeth at the ground rules laid before her. Murderous bastard.
Yet her anger was immediately dissipated as her blood ran cold when he pushed the door open, and she forgot her breath again as her box began to move. She forced on an emotionless mask, even as her thoughts wandered to whether she would live or not, and what significance the meeting would bring. But there was another emotion with her fear.
Despite the fear overriding it, the anger still remained. An extreme anger, one that could only be called a hellish rage, was the kind the young warrior felt for the Saiyan King. She found herself caught between wanting to leap at the first sight of him; attacking with a vengeance, and wanting to flee scared from the scene.
She caught herself looking toward the floor. She had, at times, imagined what the king would look like, and she was reluctant to look at the monster she had always envisioned. The huge, overbearing, utterly monstrous man that had haunted her dreams for years was, in her opinion, the only look that was suited for the one who had caused her so much sorrow. Her Lord slowly pushed the door open, and Pan's mouth went dry.
"What is it, boy?" Her heart stopped, as the King's voice met her ears. The tone was annoyed and harsh, catching her off guard.
Pan looked up in fear, knowing that it was foolish to keep her head so low in a time of revelation. Yet instead of the feeling of shock she had expected, she found herself almost laughing. This was the King of all Saiyans? Pan felt her sanity slip a notch as her fear of the King's appearance proved to be nearly in vain.
He was so... short. Hell, he was barely taller than she was! However, Pan was wise to keep her humor to herself, even as she nearly forgot whom she was dealing with. Yet, as her gaze traveled to the face of the King, her fear proved not entirely in vain.
His features were cold, arrogant, and unreadable. His brow was furrowed in annoyance, and his face held no real expression. His cold gaze met hers, and his eyes seemed to show nothing but intense anger and hate for everything around him. His entire presence was intense and commanding, and Pan felt herself be lowered merely by the gaze he was casting on her. She suddenly felt dirty, though she knew that it should have been the other way around. The Saiyan King was worth nothing more than the dirt beneath her feet, yet his aura seemed to demand it be vice versa.
No wonder he was the King. She forgot her anger entirely and fear took hold of her. Pan instantly tried to calm herself, trying to show as little emotion as possible. But she knew that he could see she was afraid... how could he not? Pan was exhausted and knew she could do little to defend herself if anything were to happen. She watched fearfully as he sniffed the air, walking around her imprisoned form.
"She has Saiyan blood... appears to be a quarter," Pan blinked as the Saiyan voiced this information. He could tell by her scent? "Not yet of mating age. How old is she?" The King turned to his son, awaiting an answer.
Pan was confused, to say the least. What was this nonsense he was speaking of?
"Nineteen. I plan to use her as a personal servant for now." Trunks replied, crossing his arms over his chest. 'Or at least until she is twenty...'
Pan could not help sighing in relief at his announcement. With the way he had eyed her before, she had thought... She shook her head. Her relief was overwhelming, but there was still a sense of foreboding. She could not easily shake the sickening feeling of his stare. Something inside her told her that he wanted her for much more than a personal servant.
The King sneered at his son, "You plan to use her for more than that," he said calmly, "You have only bought two personal slaves in your life, boy. You used both of them as training tools, and once you surpassed them, you didn't bother with them." his eyes narrowed darkly, "Her power level isn't high enough for you to train with. As well as that, your refusal to find a mate would be the only reason you've decided to purchase a personal whore." The king ended, seeming so sure of his son's intentions that he didn't even bother to raise his voice.
"Vegeta!" a warning female voice called, "Leave the boy alone!" Pan turned to see a woman with blue hair glaring at the king, before she turned toward her with a softer gaze in her eyes. "Are you really the grand-daughter of Goku?" The woman asked, an almost pleading tone in her voice.
Pan's eyes widened, her mind racing. At home her parents had often talked of a woman who had been captured when the Saiyans first came to earth... A brilliant scientist who had been close friends of her family. She'd never met her, for the woman was captured years before her birth...
Could this be Bulma? The woman fit the description, and Pan's family had never known what had happened to Bulma after she had been captured. Could it be that she was alive? That she was standing before Pan now? Yet she acted so calm around the King; Vegeta, as she had called him. The woman took Vegeta with a cool ease, yet the Saiyan made Pan shiver with fear and rage under his gaze. Pan watched closely as Vegeta's tail wrapped protectively around the woman's waist.
"I... Yes I am Goku's grand-daughter." Pan said warily, after glancing around the room. It was clear that she was expected to answer.
The woman's eyes watered slightly as she cried out, "It's true!" the woman leaned closer to Pan, "How are they? Goku, Gohan? Why, Gohan was only nine when I was taken, and here he had a child..." Bulma's excitement faded as she saw the sad, distant, angry look in Pan's eyes. Being the smart woman she was, Bulma calmed immediately, her gaze turning serious as well.
Pan knew her expression was as black as her thoughts. She spoke with spite, answering coldly, "My family is dead. They were all killed in a battle... The same one that I was captured in." Pan accentuated the word captured, turning her gaze down, her bangs hiding her eyes from sight. She clinched her fists and closed her eyes.
Bulma took in the information slowly. She knew she should have expected it... her friends would have still fought against the Saiyans. Damn, her work would be in vain now... they were all dead. And she was so close to having Chikyuu free again...
Vegeta turned to Pan again, and then looked at his son. The girl's strength, both physical and emotional, he approved of. He could sense her maximum power, as well as her ability to keep her anger in check and hide her emotions. She would do fine, and with Bulma's protection, the Prince would most certainly not be able to use the girl for what he had originally planned. It worked for the King's advantage either way; his son would have to find a mate, and his own mate would be pleased to have her friend's grand-brat around.
"You may keep her." Trunks' attention was snapped immediately to his father. Why was he giving in so easily? "She will sleep in the quarters that adjoin yours. But, if you so much as look at her in hopes of using her before her age, you will be stripped of her and punished, brutally." He added a glare to signify that this threat was not made loosely. The King also threw a glance toward the Queen, to make sure his son got the idea. It was not the King who cared so much that the young girl retain her innocence, as it was the Queen.
Bulma felt her temper rise through the tears that blurred her vision. "Pan-san, tell me, who killed them? Who killed your family!" She demanded, her voice trembling only slightly, holding a promise of death for their murderer.
Many thoughts were running through Pan's head at once. The first being that she would still be trapped with the Prince of Beasts, the second being that he couldn't 'use' her until she 'came of age', or some other nonsense, the third being that the woman before her was indeed Bulma, the fourth being that Bulma was demanding the name of the one who killed Pan's family.
Pan looked to Trunks who looked back at her, and she watched as realization hit him. She felt her lips tilt into a smirk as she watched him, because they both knew that she had him. And this would most likely be the only time she would have him cornered.
He had killed her family. He looked away from her, to the wall, his gaze refusing to be put down, but refusing to meet the gaze of either his mother or Pan.
Pan looked away from 'Her Lord', turning to Bulma before answering in a clear, calm voice, "Your son."
Those two words spoken hit home. Bulma's enraged eyes turned to Trunks, before they calmed into sadness. How disgusting, for her own son to have killed the family she had on Chikyuu. She walked to her son, confronting him with ease, while King Vegeta watched the scene before him play out with a heavy eye.
"Is... is this true?" She asked tentatively, her words and eyes questioning her son, whose gaze had turned from the wall to the floor. He lifted his eyes to his mother, and as Trunks gazed back at his mother, he sighed in defeat.
"Yes. The rebels that attacked our base were executed by me." But how was he to know that those were people his mother knew? He was defending his kingdom; it was not his fault that the foolish people had attacked.
At least now he understood why the hate in his new slave was rooted so deeply. He hadn't killed just her comrades, but her entire family. A deeply seeded rage such as hers would likely not be satisfied until she had her revenge. He understood her feelings, and part of him wanted to sympathize. He pushed away the feeling, for he had been trained all his life to ignore emotions. Aside from that, he knew that sympathizing with humans would only bring hurt... He would never let himself be that unguarded again. The only human he would ever trust would be his mother.
Pan watched as Bulma dried her eyes, being comforted by something unseen, and unheard. The anger and sadness that had radiated off the woman not moments before was replaced by an inner calm.
Bulma looked up towards her son, who towered above her, before her eyes narrowed in a tearful rage yet again, and her palm met his face. The loud sound echoed in the room, and the sound softly faded as Bulma turned and walked away, the faintly pink hand print she left on Trunks face signifying her punishment. She knew it would have no affect on him physically, but that it shamed him to know that he had done something to deserve her wrath.
The Queen turned away and walked from the room, Vegeta following her without so much as a backward glance. Trunks looked back at Pan.
"I'm sorry for your loss," He said, his tone showing that the apology was only for show. His voice was only slightly etched with regret, and Pan's own hand itched to slap him as his mother had done only moments ago. Pan knew that Trunks' pride, as well as his lack of feeling for her loss, allowed no real apology from him. She understood the pride of a fighter, but she did not understand the sheer and absolute iciness of his heart. And with that, it was set in her mind. She would never forgive him.
He looked away from her when no answer came. She had kept her head bent towards the floor, stubbornly silent.
Trunks found himself eyeing his new prize yet again; thinking on the rules his father had set for him. 'I can't so much as look at her the wrong way until she turns twenty. Mother most certainly won't let me use her for work... Hn. What else is she good for?' He thought for a moment as he turned to her to release her from the 'box' she had been in.
"What is your power level?" He asked bluntly, his father's earlier logic coming to mind. Maybe he could use her to train, or at least as a project of some sort to keep himself busy. Pan looked up at the sudden question. He shouldn't even have to guess; he had seen her fighting. But then, her form was different, because of the lack of Saiyan blood in her, so maybe he hadn't recognized it... or perhaps his senses just weren't trained enough to identify her level easily. Her mind reached back for what her father had told her the form was called. It had been only once he'd said it, once, when she was fourteen...
"Super Saiyan." she glanced up at him for a reaction before continuing, "However, my form is different, because of the lack of Saiyan blood in me." she ended quickly, spitting the cursed name of the race out as if it were poison. Trunks looked somewhat surprised, but not totally so. He had been able to read her power level in the battle, though she had apparently discovered how to hide it; for he had not been able to sense her ki until she had begun battling the horde attacking her.
He had long been trained into knowing his enemy, reading their power levels and identifying their weaknesses. It was a skill he was especially proud of, and one he had specially developed. He had a sense of what her true power level was before she was in combat, but he had to make sure he wouldn't kill his slave in a spar. After all, she had to live long enough to fulfill her true purpose.
Until the time when he could claim her, he would keep her to train with. He had seen her fight, and what she was capable of; but he also knew what he was able to do. Perhaps he could even train her as a project of sorts, minding that she not become strong enough to escape him... 'But perhaps it's a good idea to build up her... endurance...' he smirked to himself.
His fingers deftly put in the code for release, and Pan immediately fell to her knees before him. She hadn't realized that the machine had been holding her up, for in her weakened condition, she could barely move. She had not slept for so long, and her muscles ached from the demands of the mind controlling them.
She caught herself on her hands, and felt humiliatingly weak and pathetic as she tried to gather the strength to stand. She got slowly to her feet, and Trunks shook his head. It was going to be a long time before they made it to his room if she walked. He walked toward her, unceremoniously tossing her across his back.
"What the hell do you think you're doing!" She shouted, having momentarily forgotten her position as the underling.
Trunks sneered coldly as she threw stubborn punch after stubborn punch to his back, annoyed at her weak antics. "If you were to walk along, we'd never get back to my chambers."
Pan narrowed her eyes at the ground. "I'd rather you drag me to the gate of the tenth hell than back to your rooms," she spat icily, quietly. The comment was not lost on Trunks, who did nothing more than smirk in reaction.
Trunks silently cursed his rooms for being so far from the throne room. It wasn't so much the annoyance with the stubborn girl he was carrying, or that she was heavy, rather, it was the way that her breasts pressed against his back, and how if he turned his head at just the right angle, he got a lovely view under her dress.
However, Trunks was not a foolish man. He knew better than to believe he could get away with anything in his home. There were always hidden guards for his protection, as well as for his own parent's spying. If he were to disobey his father, than he would not have the chance at his little prize in the future.
At long last, he came to the door to his quarters. He pushed it open, though he walked too quickly for Pan to get a chance to see his master chamber. He strode quickly over toward a door, opening it to reveal a tiny room that failed to have a light. He wasted little time in dumping Pan on the bed, tossing a blanket over her, before turning around and leaving, heading for a cold shower.
He had to calm himself... 'Just a few more months, a year at most... and then she's mine. This will be easy... Of course, some modifications to her attitude will have to be made before she will be an enjoyable bed mate... but all this is fixed in due time.' His mind knew that to fully have her, he would have to have forgiveness... and he was not one to apologize. She would be tough to break, he knew, but then again...
She had never been broken. But now she was, and always would be, the stubborn blonde bitch...
He idly wondered what in the fourteen hells and three heavens had possessed him to buy the girl who had caused him to be in need of a cold shower. It didn't matter now though, anyway. His father had given him permission to keep her, and now he was stuck with her. Even if he wanted to get rid of her, his father's word made her his for all time. Saiyan laws forbade his permission to be broken.
Sometimes Trunks wanted to piss on the foundation of Saiyan law.
If the girl would not be in his bed... if it came to forcing her, it would not be good. He hated forcing... rape. He was not the most moral man, he knew it to be obvious, but even the harsh, cold hearted Saiyan Prince knew where to draw the line. His code of honor would not let him cross that line.
He sighed absently as he let the cold water hit his body. He knew that his life had suddenly taken a vicious turn from that of many battles and missions. The battle that had killed Pan's family and earned him his slave had probably been the last battle earth would fight against the Saiyans, and that until planet Vegeta found war again, he would remain there. He wondered who had thought of the damn law that bound her to him, and damned them as turned up the water pressure.
A.N. Damn. I'm having to change Trunks' personality to be more cold, because I've thought of a new plotbunny for this old story. See if you can catch the hints in this chapter. If you see it, don't tell what it is! Just be proud that you were a good enough reader to catch it.
Again, my editing has nearly doubled the length of this chapter... be proud of you striving author! She works hard! My butt appreciates the support it's been given... but it's been kinda sad lately, because it gets sat on so much during school. So let's cheer up my sore butt, and review! Constructive criticism appreciated!
(and yes, the charas will get more in character as the story continues. Just wait and see!)
disclaimer: Heh... kinda forgot the disclaimer throughout the entire story... again. Anyway, we all know I don't own it. Toriyama-sensei and Toei Animation studies do... damn them.
Pan forced herself to breathe, her breath having refused to come after her realization. She had to stay calm; she had to quell her fear. It was essential she show no weakness, for she knew she would get no mercy from the man behind this door.
She watched anxiously as Trunks casually knocked on the door, before he turned to Pan, a serious and arrogant look plastered on his face, "You will refer to me as 'My Lord' from now on. Do not speak unless spoken too, and show nothing but the utmost respect towards myself or anyone else in this palace." Pan clenched her teeth at the ground rules laid before her. Murderous bastard.
Yet her anger was immediately dissipated as her blood ran cold when he pushed the door open, and she forgot her breath again as her box began to move. She forced on an emotionless mask, even as her thoughts wandered to whether she would live or not, and what significance the meeting would bring. But there was another emotion with her fear.
Despite the fear overriding it, the anger still remained. An extreme anger, one that could only be called a hellish rage, was the kind the young warrior felt for the Saiyan King. She found herself caught between wanting to leap at the first sight of him; attacking with a vengeance, and wanting to flee scared from the scene.
She caught herself looking toward the floor. She had, at times, imagined what the king would look like, and she was reluctant to look at the monster she had always envisioned. The huge, overbearing, utterly monstrous man that had haunted her dreams for years was, in her opinion, the only look that was suited for the one who had caused her so much sorrow. Her Lord slowly pushed the door open, and Pan's mouth went dry.
"What is it, boy?" Her heart stopped, as the King's voice met her ears. The tone was annoyed and harsh, catching her off guard.
Pan looked up in fear, knowing that it was foolish to keep her head so low in a time of revelation. Yet instead of the feeling of shock she had expected, she found herself almost laughing. This was the King of all Saiyans? Pan felt her sanity slip a notch as her fear of the King's appearance proved to be nearly in vain.
He was so... short. Hell, he was barely taller than she was! However, Pan was wise to keep her humor to herself, even as she nearly forgot whom she was dealing with. Yet, as her gaze traveled to the face of the King, her fear proved not entirely in vain.
His features were cold, arrogant, and unreadable. His brow was furrowed in annoyance, and his face held no real expression. His cold gaze met hers, and his eyes seemed to show nothing but intense anger and hate for everything around him. His entire presence was intense and commanding, and Pan felt herself be lowered merely by the gaze he was casting on her. She suddenly felt dirty, though she knew that it should have been the other way around. The Saiyan King was worth nothing more than the dirt beneath her feet, yet his aura seemed to demand it be vice versa.
No wonder he was the King. She forgot her anger entirely and fear took hold of her. Pan instantly tried to calm herself, trying to show as little emotion as possible. But she knew that he could see she was afraid... how could he not? Pan was exhausted and knew she could do little to defend herself if anything were to happen. She watched fearfully as he sniffed the air, walking around her imprisoned form.
"She has Saiyan blood... appears to be a quarter," Pan blinked as the Saiyan voiced this information. He could tell by her scent? "Not yet of mating age. How old is she?" The King turned to his son, awaiting an answer.
Pan was confused, to say the least. What was this nonsense he was speaking of?
"Nineteen. I plan to use her as a personal servant for now." Trunks replied, crossing his arms over his chest. 'Or at least until she is twenty...'
Pan could not help sighing in relief at his announcement. With the way he had eyed her before, she had thought... She shook her head. Her relief was overwhelming, but there was still a sense of foreboding. She could not easily shake the sickening feeling of his stare. Something inside her told her that he wanted her for much more than a personal servant.
The King sneered at his son, "You plan to use her for more than that," he said calmly, "You have only bought two personal slaves in your life, boy. You used both of them as training tools, and once you surpassed them, you didn't bother with them." his eyes narrowed darkly, "Her power level isn't high enough for you to train with. As well as that, your refusal to find a mate would be the only reason you've decided to purchase a personal whore." The king ended, seeming so sure of his son's intentions that he didn't even bother to raise his voice.
"Vegeta!" a warning female voice called, "Leave the boy alone!" Pan turned to see a woman with blue hair glaring at the king, before she turned toward her with a softer gaze in her eyes. "Are you really the grand-daughter of Goku?" The woman asked, an almost pleading tone in her voice.
Pan's eyes widened, her mind racing. At home her parents had often talked of a woman who had been captured when the Saiyans first came to earth... A brilliant scientist who had been close friends of her family. She'd never met her, for the woman was captured years before her birth...
Could this be Bulma? The woman fit the description, and Pan's family had never known what had happened to Bulma after she had been captured. Could it be that she was alive? That she was standing before Pan now? Yet she acted so calm around the King; Vegeta, as she had called him. The woman took Vegeta with a cool ease, yet the Saiyan made Pan shiver with fear and rage under his gaze. Pan watched closely as Vegeta's tail wrapped protectively around the woman's waist.
"I... Yes I am Goku's grand-daughter." Pan said warily, after glancing around the room. It was clear that she was expected to answer.
The woman's eyes watered slightly as she cried out, "It's true!" the woman leaned closer to Pan, "How are they? Goku, Gohan? Why, Gohan was only nine when I was taken, and here he had a child..." Bulma's excitement faded as she saw the sad, distant, angry look in Pan's eyes. Being the smart woman she was, Bulma calmed immediately, her gaze turning serious as well.
Pan knew her expression was as black as her thoughts. She spoke with spite, answering coldly, "My family is dead. They were all killed in a battle... The same one that I was captured in." Pan accentuated the word captured, turning her gaze down, her bangs hiding her eyes from sight. She clinched her fists and closed her eyes.
Bulma took in the information slowly. She knew she should have expected it... her friends would have still fought against the Saiyans. Damn, her work would be in vain now... they were all dead. And she was so close to having Chikyuu free again...
Vegeta turned to Pan again, and then looked at his son. The girl's strength, both physical and emotional, he approved of. He could sense her maximum power, as well as her ability to keep her anger in check and hide her emotions. She would do fine, and with Bulma's protection, the Prince would most certainly not be able to use the girl for what he had originally planned. It worked for the King's advantage either way; his son would have to find a mate, and his own mate would be pleased to have her friend's grand-brat around.
"You may keep her." Trunks' attention was snapped immediately to his father. Why was he giving in so easily? "She will sleep in the quarters that adjoin yours. But, if you so much as look at her in hopes of using her before her age, you will be stripped of her and punished, brutally." He added a glare to signify that this threat was not made loosely. The King also threw a glance toward the Queen, to make sure his son got the idea. It was not the King who cared so much that the young girl retain her innocence, as it was the Queen.
Bulma felt her temper rise through the tears that blurred her vision. "Pan-san, tell me, who killed them? Who killed your family!" She demanded, her voice trembling only slightly, holding a promise of death for their murderer.
Many thoughts were running through Pan's head at once. The first being that she would still be trapped with the Prince of Beasts, the second being that he couldn't 'use' her until she 'came of age', or some other nonsense, the third being that the woman before her was indeed Bulma, the fourth being that Bulma was demanding the name of the one who killed Pan's family.
Pan looked to Trunks who looked back at her, and she watched as realization hit him. She felt her lips tilt into a smirk as she watched him, because they both knew that she had him. And this would most likely be the only time she would have him cornered.
He had killed her family. He looked away from her, to the wall, his gaze refusing to be put down, but refusing to meet the gaze of either his mother or Pan.
Pan looked away from 'Her Lord', turning to Bulma before answering in a clear, calm voice, "Your son."
Those two words spoken hit home. Bulma's enraged eyes turned to Trunks, before they calmed into sadness. How disgusting, for her own son to have killed the family she had on Chikyuu. She walked to her son, confronting him with ease, while King Vegeta watched the scene before him play out with a heavy eye.
"Is... is this true?" She asked tentatively, her words and eyes questioning her son, whose gaze had turned from the wall to the floor. He lifted his eyes to his mother, and as Trunks gazed back at his mother, he sighed in defeat.
"Yes. The rebels that attacked our base were executed by me." But how was he to know that those were people his mother knew? He was defending his kingdom; it was not his fault that the foolish people had attacked.
At least now he understood why the hate in his new slave was rooted so deeply. He hadn't killed just her comrades, but her entire family. A deeply seeded rage such as hers would likely not be satisfied until she had her revenge. He understood her feelings, and part of him wanted to sympathize. He pushed away the feeling, for he had been trained all his life to ignore emotions. Aside from that, he knew that sympathizing with humans would only bring hurt... He would never let himself be that unguarded again. The only human he would ever trust would be his mother.
Pan watched as Bulma dried her eyes, being comforted by something unseen, and unheard. The anger and sadness that had radiated off the woman not moments before was replaced by an inner calm.
Bulma looked up towards her son, who towered above her, before her eyes narrowed in a tearful rage yet again, and her palm met his face. The loud sound echoed in the room, and the sound softly faded as Bulma turned and walked away, the faintly pink hand print she left on Trunks face signifying her punishment. She knew it would have no affect on him physically, but that it shamed him to know that he had done something to deserve her wrath.
The Queen turned away and walked from the room, Vegeta following her without so much as a backward glance. Trunks looked back at Pan.
"I'm sorry for your loss," He said, his tone showing that the apology was only for show. His voice was only slightly etched with regret, and Pan's own hand itched to slap him as his mother had done only moments ago. Pan knew that Trunks' pride, as well as his lack of feeling for her loss, allowed no real apology from him. She understood the pride of a fighter, but she did not understand the sheer and absolute iciness of his heart. And with that, it was set in her mind. She would never forgive him.
He looked away from her when no answer came. She had kept her head bent towards the floor, stubbornly silent.
Trunks found himself eyeing his new prize yet again; thinking on the rules his father had set for him. 'I can't so much as look at her the wrong way until she turns twenty. Mother most certainly won't let me use her for work... Hn. What else is she good for?' He thought for a moment as he turned to her to release her from the 'box' she had been in.
"What is your power level?" He asked bluntly, his father's earlier logic coming to mind. Maybe he could use her to train, or at least as a project of some sort to keep himself busy. Pan looked up at the sudden question. He shouldn't even have to guess; he had seen her fighting. But then, her form was different, because of the lack of Saiyan blood in her, so maybe he hadn't recognized it... or perhaps his senses just weren't trained enough to identify her level easily. Her mind reached back for what her father had told her the form was called. It had been only once he'd said it, once, when she was fourteen...
"Super Saiyan." she glanced up at him for a reaction before continuing, "However, my form is different, because of the lack of Saiyan blood in me." she ended quickly, spitting the cursed name of the race out as if it were poison. Trunks looked somewhat surprised, but not totally so. He had been able to read her power level in the battle, though she had apparently discovered how to hide it; for he had not been able to sense her ki until she had begun battling the horde attacking her.
He had long been trained into knowing his enemy, reading their power levels and identifying their weaknesses. It was a skill he was especially proud of, and one he had specially developed. He had a sense of what her true power level was before she was in combat, but he had to make sure he wouldn't kill his slave in a spar. After all, she had to live long enough to fulfill her true purpose.
Until the time when he could claim her, he would keep her to train with. He had seen her fight, and what she was capable of; but he also knew what he was able to do. Perhaps he could even train her as a project of sorts, minding that she not become strong enough to escape him... 'But perhaps it's a good idea to build up her... endurance...' he smirked to himself.
His fingers deftly put in the code for release, and Pan immediately fell to her knees before him. She hadn't realized that the machine had been holding her up, for in her weakened condition, she could barely move. She had not slept for so long, and her muscles ached from the demands of the mind controlling them.
She caught herself on her hands, and felt humiliatingly weak and pathetic as she tried to gather the strength to stand. She got slowly to her feet, and Trunks shook his head. It was going to be a long time before they made it to his room if she walked. He walked toward her, unceremoniously tossing her across his back.
"What the hell do you think you're doing!" She shouted, having momentarily forgotten her position as the underling.
Trunks sneered coldly as she threw stubborn punch after stubborn punch to his back, annoyed at her weak antics. "If you were to walk along, we'd never get back to my chambers."
Pan narrowed her eyes at the ground. "I'd rather you drag me to the gate of the tenth hell than back to your rooms," she spat icily, quietly. The comment was not lost on Trunks, who did nothing more than smirk in reaction.
Trunks silently cursed his rooms for being so far from the throne room. It wasn't so much the annoyance with the stubborn girl he was carrying, or that she was heavy, rather, it was the way that her breasts pressed against his back, and how if he turned his head at just the right angle, he got a lovely view under her dress.
However, Trunks was not a foolish man. He knew better than to believe he could get away with anything in his home. There were always hidden guards for his protection, as well as for his own parent's spying. If he were to disobey his father, than he would not have the chance at his little prize in the future.
At long last, he came to the door to his quarters. He pushed it open, though he walked too quickly for Pan to get a chance to see his master chamber. He strode quickly over toward a door, opening it to reveal a tiny room that failed to have a light. He wasted little time in dumping Pan on the bed, tossing a blanket over her, before turning around and leaving, heading for a cold shower.
He had to calm himself... 'Just a few more months, a year at most... and then she's mine. This will be easy... Of course, some modifications to her attitude will have to be made before she will be an enjoyable bed mate... but all this is fixed in due time.' His mind knew that to fully have her, he would have to have forgiveness... and he was not one to apologize. She would be tough to break, he knew, but then again...
She had never been broken. But now she was, and always would be, the stubborn blonde bitch...
He idly wondered what in the fourteen hells and three heavens had possessed him to buy the girl who had caused him to be in need of a cold shower. It didn't matter now though, anyway. His father had given him permission to keep her, and now he was stuck with her. Even if he wanted to get rid of her, his father's word made her his for all time. Saiyan laws forbade his permission to be broken.
Sometimes Trunks wanted to piss on the foundation of Saiyan law.
If the girl would not be in his bed... if it came to forcing her, it would not be good. He hated forcing... rape. He was not the most moral man, he knew it to be obvious, but even the harsh, cold hearted Saiyan Prince knew where to draw the line. His code of honor would not let him cross that line.
He sighed absently as he let the cold water hit his body. He knew that his life had suddenly taken a vicious turn from that of many battles and missions. The battle that had killed Pan's family and earned him his slave had probably been the last battle earth would fight against the Saiyans, and that until planet Vegeta found war again, he would remain there. He wondered who had thought of the damn law that bound her to him, and damned them as turned up the water pressure.
A.N. Damn. I'm having to change Trunks' personality to be more cold, because I've thought of a new plotbunny for this old story. See if you can catch the hints in this chapter. If you see it, don't tell what it is! Just be proud that you were a good enough reader to catch it.
Again, my editing has nearly doubled the length of this chapter... be proud of you striving author! She works hard! My butt appreciates the support it's been given... but it's been kinda sad lately, because it gets sat on so much during school. So let's cheer up my sore butt, and review! Constructive criticism appreciated!
(and yes, the charas will get more in character as the story continues. Just wait and see!)
