"Rebels of the Revolution"
By Akira
Disclaimer: Vegeta-sei, Gohan, Goten, Videl, Pan, and Trunks are dutifully Akira Toriyama's. The first line of the summary belongs to Peter Jackson of the Lord of the Rings movie trilogy (Boromir in The Lord of the Rings: the Fellowship of the Ring at the Council of Elrond). Midwinter comes from several different fantasy books I've read. Lastly, there is mention of Enerials and Enerial forged weapons in this chapter. Both belong solely to my friend, Natalie Perry, who has granted me permission to use the Enerials for my own purposes.
Summary: "Saiyans have no king; Saiyans need no king." The heir to the throne returned long from exile – a choice he made long ago. He took the throne, and within months, rumors of a rebellion emerged. The entire planet turned against him… all except one girl.
Thanks go out to… GothicAngel, Kutie-Pan, Videl17 (x2), pan, and chibigoten124/SSJ3MysticPan… for reviewing!
Chapter VIII
"You can do better than that… especially if you are a Son," Goten smiled at his niece as she inspected her arrow an inch off the center of the target.
Pan shrugged as her uncle approached. Quicker than the eye could see, she fitted another arrow to the string. "You and my father take too much pride in our name," Pan said as she aimed.
The arrow flew. This time it struck the outer rim. Pan flinched; it hurt to know she fouled up in front of her uncle. Goten tousled his niece's hair. He had seen her flinch. "It might help if you didn't shift right before you let the arrow go."
"The King says the same," Pan told her uncle as she fitted yet another arrow.
"Where is he? Isn't he supposed to be watching you? Or rather, aren't you supposed to be helping him in some fashion or another?" Goten inquired. It was very rare to spot a trainee without their trainer.
"He's in the baths. Do you wish me to find him for you?" Pan loosed another arrow.
Goten went red as he comprehended the underlining message of that question. "No, it's alright. I was just curious."
Thud. The arrow split Pan's first arrow. Pan heaved a heavy sigh and fitted another arrow.
"Why are you learning archery?" Goten phrased a very good question. Usually, Saiya-jins combated hand-to-hand, no weapons.
"My Lord wishes me to learn it. He says it doesn't hurt to learn how to use weapons. It doesn't involve raising kis, so the enemy knows not your position. Also, it doesn't drain power, no matter how little," Pan replied as another arrow went flying.
"Waste of ti-" Goten was cut off by the thud of the arrow. It had struck center. Clapping was heard from behind them. Both of them turned. Heading towards them was Trunks, approval gleaming in his eyes.
Goten knelt, hand over heart, warrior fashion. Trunks nodded towards him quickly before turning right to Pan. "I see you've finally found your knack for it."
"It was only one arrow," Pan said, blushing. She rarely had compliments.
"Try again."
Pan raised her bow, already with the arrow, aimed, and released. It went a little off center. "It was luck, my lord," she murmured, casting down her eyes so he wouldn't see her disappointment.
"No, not entirely. Your stance has a tiny flaw and so does your grasp on the bow." Trunks furrowed his eyebrows for a minute. He then reached out and corrected her posture as he saw fit. "Try it again."
This time the arrow struck center, splitting her previous arrow. "Good. Shall we retire to eat now? That was my main reason for coming out here in the first place," Trunks said, gathering up the bow and arrows left.
Pan jumped up and squealed, happiness flowing around her. She rushed to take down the target. The King and the daughter of the Steward proceeded to happily float towards the palace, empty stomachs anticipating the food it was about to receive.
Back at the practice square, Son Goten, Warrior Commander of the Elite, rose, a confusion clouding his face. In one minute to the next, he had been pushed over and ignored like a fly. Slowly, the Commander walked back towards the palace.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
In the weeks to come, Son Pan mastered the bow and dagger. All left was the sword. Since neither of them had the time to practice very often – Trunks had to be briefed and prepared for the Enerials' visit to Vegeta-sei, and Pan was stuck in the palace all day with practice for serving at the Midwinter Festival – they both decided that practices at dawn would be the most convenient… and given the circumstances, stay the most constant. Pan slept in the room adjacent to Trunks now despite her father's ill wishes. A long Council debate had been waged over this, but in the end, the King came out victorious with the argument of tradition for once on his side.
Trunks smiled as he saw a tousled hair Pan stumble into his room at first light. "Good morning, my dear trainee. How are you? Never mind that, get out your training sword. We begin pattern dances today!"
"You look too happy, my lord," Pan grumbled. Awkwardly she found the too-large training sword and began in the most simple pattern dance.
Trunks took out Avalir, his own sword, to begin his practice. Avalir was Enerial forged – the best that could be forged by mortals. As he finished the last spin with a grunt half a bell later, he checked on the status of his little trainee. "Progress?'
"Slow," Pan replied, a grimace on her face. She set down the sword on his desk. "I can't finish the third step without stumbling."
"It can be fixed. I had the same problem. Just remember to keep your hold on your sword tight, don't fidget because you know it's the next step, and concentrate on your foot pattern, not the position of the sword. The wall tapestries and curtains are all replaceable should a certain sword slash them in half," Trunks said, smiling at his trainee. "Enough for today. Stretch out your muscles some more before you take your bath. Report back to me after your bath."
Pan stumbled back into her room, grabbed a fresh set of clothes – comfortable clothes because it was only practice today – and headed towards the warm bath awaiting her. It was bound to be a long Midwinter week with sword practices at dawn.
End Chapter VIII
A/N: Hope you guys don't hold a grudge against me because I skipped from the Fall Festival all the way to Midwinter – which is sort of like the Saiya-jin equivalent of Christmas.
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