Dende's Love
Chapter 11: Comparisons
Linden sighed, trying to clear her mind, as she patted the extra moisture out of her long hair. It had been extremely difficult, this last training session. She was so sore...... but she was glad for it, if it would help her reach the power.
There were still, at this point, 3 weeks left until Doquenis graced them with his presence. She felt Piccolo's approval, as well as her own powers growing. She powered up some, and her hair was nearly dry when she powered back down.
She began braiding it, her eyes closed, and didn't notice when Dende paused at her doorway to watch her. As she finished, tying the end of the braid with a leather thong, Dende hurried along to his own room. He couldn't believe how much his feelings had grown, even though they, apparantly, weren't reciprocated, anymore, at least.
He felt a tear roll down his cheek, his tender heart even more so now. He wiped it away, and blew his breath out in one rush. Shaking his head, he walked back out of his room, to the edge of the lookout.
He leapt off, and flew down to the ground below, headed toward his "place", as he called it when he was younger. It was still a refuge when he needed to meditate, talk things out out loud, or just calm down. Tonite, it was all of those.
"I care for her, I know that much. How much is a very good question, and I can't answer it yet. I feel good and bad at the same time, because, I suppose, it feels as if I have a....... what did Gohan call those things? Oh yes, a crush. Unreciprocated, of course. I mean, she spares me no glances that I could see, and isn't even.... friendly anymore. That hurts...... I mean, I'd at least wish to be her friend, even if nothing else. I saw a glimpse of the guy in that picture type thing. He was her kind, and most definately not green. Handsome, if Linden had cared for him. So, now that I've figured out absolutely nothing, what can I do about it?"
He rolled his head, trying to relax the muscles that had tensed up the more he talked.
_________________________back on the lookout_______________________
Linden walked around the lookout, and saw no sign of Dende. She was confused, as her vision, while being as far back as it was, was still fresh in her mind. How Loumil had looked........ his 'voice', and comforting presence in her mind.
She remembered their first night together, and smiled slightly. He had been so gentle, yet passionate, as if he couldn't get enough of her. It was not unusual for them to be together in that way, or unexpected, if her best friend's news of a betrothal announcement were accurate. Her people fell in love, only once, and it lasted through life and death, the bond that is forged. She remembered the sparkling pinkish blue of his eyes as he looked at her........
She shook herself. /It's no use having foolish thoughts of the past. He is gone..... and that 'vision' must only have been a dream. You are so close, Linden, to the Power. Gain the wings.......... in 2 weeks. Have to hurry,/ she thought, pushing herself along.
She had come to admire Piccolo in this time. His teaching skills were, although harsh, affective. She knew that only 3 others of her people had gained the wings, the one of them her grandmother, when Citadae had been at war with them, led by a cruel and ruthless leader.
Her grandmother had been so brave, and commended by the King and Queen of that time. She remembered also the way her grandmother's wings felt. So soft and silky on the outside, but with a strength underlying that fragile exterior.
She rolled her own shoulders, feeling her muscles move and protest slightly. In this time, she had become used to the rigorous schedule Piccolo had her adhere to.
Taking a deep breath, she started her katas, the several Piccolo had showed her to practice when she had her minimal spare time. Even after a shower, she liked to feel looser than she did. /Must have tensed up from those damned memories,/ she thought bitterly, missing her family...... her people......... Loumil.
She shook herself again, realized she had stopped midway into the first move. She struck out, letting the force carry her to a somersault and some various gymnastics moves. She kicked out, and then brought her other foot up, letting the move carry her into the next, and on into her routine.
She suspected she was still being watched by Doquenis. He wasn't as stupid as she wished him to be. /Never underestimate,/ came the thought, unbidden.
At the end, she sat down and stretched, feeling slightly better. Her thoughts went back to Loumil, but this time to try and remember if there were many or any differences in the way the twins looked.
She thought of the way Loumil was strong, but kind, harsh when it was needed, but always encouraging. /As well as,/ she thought with a slight smirk, /a prankster to beat all./
Her mind then shifted to images, memories, of Doquenis. He had, now that she thought about it, an arrogance that Loumil lacked, as well as cold, hard eyes. His mouth was always in the veneer of a mocking smirk. If something displeased him though, his temper would slash out, leaving those who he blamed, bleeding behind him.
He delighted in making people feel small, insignificant. She recalled many people saying how they wished he could be more like his brother. As she also recalled how he had tensed up, as if he could hear the remark. /Which in all likeliness, he probably could,/ she speculated.
She wondered if they were born that way. In the cliche-ish 'good twin, evil twin'. /Probably not......... but I guess I'll never know./
She sighed, done with her stretching, and went back to her quarters. Laying down, she closed her eyes and sent up a prayer for success in beating Doquenis, falling asleep as she did so.
_________________Mars' orbit__________________
Doquenis sat in his chair, drinking the fermented juice from some of the fruit of Lousenthica. His eyes were wary, hard, cold, and, above all, arrogant.
/Well well, the little peach my simpleton of a brother loved thinks she can reach the Power...... that is preposterous. I was always better than her at combat anyhow,/ he finished the thought with a smirk, his beautiful hair floating around him down to his ankles.
He recalled when he had at last reached his brother, after he had killed the King who had sired him, and the Queen who had birthed him. He snarled at the memories of how Loumil was the favored son, even though he himself was the rightful heir of the throne.
They fought, Loumil fighting better than Doquenis had thought him able to. When he at last had had him at his mercy, he had been struck from behind, by Manela, on her way to fetch Loumil for Linden.
His thoughts of finishing his brother gone, he went at the girl he had been lusting after for as long as he could remember. She clawed, and fought valiently- /for her, at least,/- not screaming as he beat at her, or as he raped her, or even at the final blow that finished her. And all the while, he had inwardly balked at the anger mixed with pity that shown in her eyes.
When he had returned to finish his brother, he couldn't find a trace of him anywhere. /Must have been taken and dumped with the other carcasses by the other rogues,/ he figured.
Now, he threw back his head and finished his drink in one burning gulp. His hair caught in something, he got annoyed and yanked it out. He braided it in the intricate braid only alloted to the royal family, the way to do it now ingrained. He absently tied it off, and paced.
/Silly girl,/ he thought, his drink having calmed him slightly. /She will lose, and when she does, will be put in her place./
He grinned slightly at the plans his brain was formulating for punishments and rewards, all pleasurable to him, including the cause of her pain. She would be fun to break.............
A/N: Okay, there ya go. Please review! Let me know how I'm doing thus far. It helps me write when I know that people like my work. ^_^ Praise and constructive criticism is welcome! 3, Chero
Chapter 11: Comparisons
Linden sighed, trying to clear her mind, as she patted the extra moisture out of her long hair. It had been extremely difficult, this last training session. She was so sore...... but she was glad for it, if it would help her reach the power.
There were still, at this point, 3 weeks left until Doquenis graced them with his presence. She felt Piccolo's approval, as well as her own powers growing. She powered up some, and her hair was nearly dry when she powered back down.
She began braiding it, her eyes closed, and didn't notice when Dende paused at her doorway to watch her. As she finished, tying the end of the braid with a leather thong, Dende hurried along to his own room. He couldn't believe how much his feelings had grown, even though they, apparantly, weren't reciprocated, anymore, at least.
He felt a tear roll down his cheek, his tender heart even more so now. He wiped it away, and blew his breath out in one rush. Shaking his head, he walked back out of his room, to the edge of the lookout.
He leapt off, and flew down to the ground below, headed toward his "place", as he called it when he was younger. It was still a refuge when he needed to meditate, talk things out out loud, or just calm down. Tonite, it was all of those.
"I care for her, I know that much. How much is a very good question, and I can't answer it yet. I feel good and bad at the same time, because, I suppose, it feels as if I have a....... what did Gohan call those things? Oh yes, a crush. Unreciprocated, of course. I mean, she spares me no glances that I could see, and isn't even.... friendly anymore. That hurts...... I mean, I'd at least wish to be her friend, even if nothing else. I saw a glimpse of the guy in that picture type thing. He was her kind, and most definately not green. Handsome, if Linden had cared for him. So, now that I've figured out absolutely nothing, what can I do about it?"
He rolled his head, trying to relax the muscles that had tensed up the more he talked.
_________________________back on the lookout_______________________
Linden walked around the lookout, and saw no sign of Dende. She was confused, as her vision, while being as far back as it was, was still fresh in her mind. How Loumil had looked........ his 'voice', and comforting presence in her mind.
She remembered their first night together, and smiled slightly. He had been so gentle, yet passionate, as if he couldn't get enough of her. It was not unusual for them to be together in that way, or unexpected, if her best friend's news of a betrothal announcement were accurate. Her people fell in love, only once, and it lasted through life and death, the bond that is forged. She remembered the sparkling pinkish blue of his eyes as he looked at her........
She shook herself. /It's no use having foolish thoughts of the past. He is gone..... and that 'vision' must only have been a dream. You are so close, Linden, to the Power. Gain the wings.......... in 2 weeks. Have to hurry,/ she thought, pushing herself along.
She had come to admire Piccolo in this time. His teaching skills were, although harsh, affective. She knew that only 3 others of her people had gained the wings, the one of them her grandmother, when Citadae had been at war with them, led by a cruel and ruthless leader.
Her grandmother had been so brave, and commended by the King and Queen of that time. She remembered also the way her grandmother's wings felt. So soft and silky on the outside, but with a strength underlying that fragile exterior.
She rolled her own shoulders, feeling her muscles move and protest slightly. In this time, she had become used to the rigorous schedule Piccolo had her adhere to.
Taking a deep breath, she started her katas, the several Piccolo had showed her to practice when she had her minimal spare time. Even after a shower, she liked to feel looser than she did. /Must have tensed up from those damned memories,/ she thought bitterly, missing her family...... her people......... Loumil.
She shook herself again, realized she had stopped midway into the first move. She struck out, letting the force carry her to a somersault and some various gymnastics moves. She kicked out, and then brought her other foot up, letting the move carry her into the next, and on into her routine.
She suspected she was still being watched by Doquenis. He wasn't as stupid as she wished him to be. /Never underestimate,/ came the thought, unbidden.
At the end, she sat down and stretched, feeling slightly better. Her thoughts went back to Loumil, but this time to try and remember if there were many or any differences in the way the twins looked.
She thought of the way Loumil was strong, but kind, harsh when it was needed, but always encouraging. /As well as,/ she thought with a slight smirk, /a prankster to beat all./
Her mind then shifted to images, memories, of Doquenis. He had, now that she thought about it, an arrogance that Loumil lacked, as well as cold, hard eyes. His mouth was always in the veneer of a mocking smirk. If something displeased him though, his temper would slash out, leaving those who he blamed, bleeding behind him.
He delighted in making people feel small, insignificant. She recalled many people saying how they wished he could be more like his brother. As she also recalled how he had tensed up, as if he could hear the remark. /Which in all likeliness, he probably could,/ she speculated.
She wondered if they were born that way. In the cliche-ish 'good twin, evil twin'. /Probably not......... but I guess I'll never know./
She sighed, done with her stretching, and went back to her quarters. Laying down, she closed her eyes and sent up a prayer for success in beating Doquenis, falling asleep as she did so.
_________________Mars' orbit__________________
Doquenis sat in his chair, drinking the fermented juice from some of the fruit of Lousenthica. His eyes were wary, hard, cold, and, above all, arrogant.
/Well well, the little peach my simpleton of a brother loved thinks she can reach the Power...... that is preposterous. I was always better than her at combat anyhow,/ he finished the thought with a smirk, his beautiful hair floating around him down to his ankles.
He recalled when he had at last reached his brother, after he had killed the King who had sired him, and the Queen who had birthed him. He snarled at the memories of how Loumil was the favored son, even though he himself was the rightful heir of the throne.
They fought, Loumil fighting better than Doquenis had thought him able to. When he at last had had him at his mercy, he had been struck from behind, by Manela, on her way to fetch Loumil for Linden.
His thoughts of finishing his brother gone, he went at the girl he had been lusting after for as long as he could remember. She clawed, and fought valiently- /for her, at least,/- not screaming as he beat at her, or as he raped her, or even at the final blow that finished her. And all the while, he had inwardly balked at the anger mixed with pity that shown in her eyes.
When he had returned to finish his brother, he couldn't find a trace of him anywhere. /Must have been taken and dumped with the other carcasses by the other rogues,/ he figured.
Now, he threw back his head and finished his drink in one burning gulp. His hair caught in something, he got annoyed and yanked it out. He braided it in the intricate braid only alloted to the royal family, the way to do it now ingrained. He absently tied it off, and paced.
/Silly girl,/ he thought, his drink having calmed him slightly. /She will lose, and when she does, will be put in her place./
He grinned slightly at the plans his brain was formulating for punishments and rewards, all pleasurable to him, including the cause of her pain. She would be fun to break.............
A/N: Okay, there ya go. Please review! Let me know how I'm doing thus far. It helps me write when I know that people like my work. ^_^ Praise and constructive criticism is welcome! 3, Chero