A/N:  I don't own Dragonball, but I promise to be kind to the characters I've borrowed.  Well, more or less.  I do have to make fun of them a little now and then, though I love them all. ^_~

Thank you to amanda, Fya85, Renee the Rabid Squirrel, soyamiso, and TigerQueen (I like the idea of the chocolate ^__^) for the reviews for the last chapter – they were much appreciated!  So sorry this took such a long time again – writer's block is evil!

Renee the Rabid (Mindreading ^_~) Squirrel:  I've been thinking about lowering the rating for a while, because it's not like the characters are going to curse as much as an R rating allows, or necessarily be all that violent, but what's holding me back is that I'm going to have a sort of lemon later in the story, and there will be some nudity also.  So, just to be safe, I guess I'll keep it here for now – especially with everything that's been going on at this site.  I reserve the right to change my mind, though! ^_~

Prince Quest, A Cracked Fairy Tale

Chapter Nine:  At Last, My Sour Prince

Welcome, Conscientious Readers.  At the end of our last Chapter, the Prince of the Vegetables had just posed a question to someone as to who the hell they were.  Ahem.  Pardon my impolite language, please.  To whom was he speaking so rudely?  If 'twas to Bulma-the-Beautiful, I hope she gives him a good punch in the jaw.  But I speak hastily.  Let us go and discover the truth of this matter together.

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Ones, what's his problem?  Bulma turned her head sharply, astonished at the rudeness of the prince's question, and saw that he was speaking to Goku, who had finished mopping the blood off his face with his forearm, and was smiling with amiable wariness at the newcomers to their presence.  In fact, all of the Vegetables were standing there with equally thunderstruck expressions.  What can be the meaning of this? They're all acting as if they'd just seen a ghoul.

"Me?  I'm Goku of Hill-on-the Pond, Spargate."

"You may make your home there, but you are no Spargatian.  I do not understand what you are doing here on this planet, but you are one of our people."  The prince frowned and turned his attention to the bald giant.  "He looks exactly like Bardock, therefore he must be Kakarrot, the younger son who was sent away as an infant because he was weak and this Earth is the place to which he was dispatched."

"One of your people?  No, I'm a Human," Goku insisted.  "You're a Vegetable."

"A Vegetable?  What in the name of verminous slaves is that supposed to mean?  Is that what you Earthling idiots are calling us?  We are Saiyans, fool."

"Well, you are from the Land of Vegetable, so why wouldn't you be called Vegetables?  It would make more sense that way," Bulma pointed out, watching with interest the way the prince's forehead veins grew larger as he became agitated.

"No, it would not.  We are Saiyans.  It does not matter what our kingdom is called; the names are related, and I owe you no explanations."

"I see.  Rather, I don't see, but perhaps you can explain it to me later, even if you don't want to.  That would be the honorable thing to do."

"Hmph," the prince replied, thinking he would explain absolutely nothing to her, honor or no.  So what if he liked disheveled hair on a female?  It gave her no right to call him a Vegetable.  "Nappa, you may speak to them.  I cannot be bothered."

"Kakarrot, do you remember your childhood?" the one Bulma thought she'd heard referred to as Nappy asked.

"Sure I do.  I lived with my grandpa until he was killed by a horrible monster.  But my name's Goku."

Nappa's eyebrows furrowed.  "What about your parents?"

"I didn't have any.  Grandpa found me when I was a baby, and took care of me."

"Ahhh," the other nodded, comprehending.  "We used to send ones like you away from the planet on missions.  It is obvious you did not complete yours, and just as well for us that you did not."

"Huh?  What mission?"

"Never mind that," the prince snarled, drawing a finger across his throat in a very final gesture of negation.  "Bardock can fill you in on what you need to know.  Now that you are here, let us be going.  We would like to eat our dinner. Deal with these dolts, Nappa."  He turned and walked away from them.

Bulma watched him go, admiring his graceful stride.  Not bad.  She added another percentage point to the scale.  He seemed to have a bit of an ego problem, but then, he was a prince.  He couldn't be expected to be as humble as she was.  If she decided to keep him, she'd work on that humility factor.   She subtracted two points.

'Dinner?"  Goku practically jumped forward.  "Where?"

"Go-kuuu," Bulma hissed, glaring at him.  "Where's your sense of social correctness?"

"Well, they aren't going to starve us, are they?" Goku replied out of the corner of his mouth.

"No, we are not going to starve you, unless you are too slow, and then I will throw you into the dungeons from whence you will never again emerge," Prince Vegeta answered, casting a withering eye at the lower-class Saiyan.

"I hope you are joking."  Bulma walked up to the pointy-haired prince, and poked a finger at his chest.  "You can't expect Goku to have courtly manners, since he's from Spargate, but you should know how to be polite to visitors."

Three hastily stifled laughs came from behind the prince.  He whirled and glared at them, and the sounds of fake coughing resounded throughout the clearing.  The pretty scientist admired his assets once again through lowered lashes, a secretive smile quirking her lips. 

"I do not have to be polite to anyone if I choose not to be," he told her, turning his head just slightly to look at her while keeping his back to her.  "I could give you back to the trees if I wished to.  If it were not for that stupid Prophecy, understand this; I would kill you all.  And now you had better hurry and keep up with us, or you can sleep in the dungeons."  He faced forward, and leapt into the sky.

Nappa's gaze rested thoughtfully on them all for a few seconds, and then he said, "I'd advise you to follow in your flying contraption as quickly as possible.  Prince Vegeta's threats are not idle ones."  He and the other two Saiyans launched themselves, and then turned to stare down at those who were still standing stock still below.  "What are you waiting for, the Doom of the Last Days?  Bestir yourselves!"  Then the three of them flew away.

Goku's face darkened.  "I don't think he'd find it as easy to throw us back to the trees as he thinks it would be." 

"They can fly," Bulma said, half to herself.  "How impressive."

"So," the Demon said, obviously not as impressed as was the Lord Scientist's daughter.  "I can fly also.  It is not that difficult."

"Well, but I already knew that many Demons are capable of flying.  I had no idea that were-monkeys could fly.  I thought they simply turned into big apes, and that was all they did.  Though, to my way of thinking, that is quite enough. Still, flying might turn out to be very useful."  She added back the two points she'd subtracted, plus one more, and decided to also add another for the prince's choice of form-hugging clothing.

"Were-monkeys?"  Krillin's jaw dropped.  "That's what they are?"

"Yes," Bulma replied, a bit defiantly.  "And your point is?"

"Um, nothing.  I was just wondering why you wanted to go to all this trouble to visit them, that's all."

"That's none of your business!"  She could feel a blush coming on.  "Anyhow, we should be thinking about something else they said, namely that Goku's a were-monkey. They were sure of it.  You do look like they do, spiky hair and all.  Only you don't have a tail…but they didn't seem to notice that.  Is it possible they could they be wrong?"

"I'm not a Saiyanin, or whatever he was calling them.  I did have a tail when I was younger - though it disappeared one night when I was asleep."

Bulma raised her eyebrows at him.  "You have to be a Saiyan then, especially since you're said to bear an amazing resemblance to one of their people, the one named Barhop, or something like that.  But, how could a tail disappear overnight?"  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Yamcha motioning her toward the Speed Warrior, a pained expression on his face.  They resumed their former seats with Piccolo the Younger choosing to fly beside them this time while Goku replaced the Demon in the car.  Yamcha pushed a button, and the vehicle zoomed into the air.

Goku answered her question once they were on their way.  "I had a dream that night that an old green guy – hey, now that I think of it, he must have been a Demon because he looked a lot like Piccolo the Younger here – anyway, an old green guy with a staff came and told me that my tail would cause some problems, and if I didn't mind, he'd just remove it."

The Demon gave him a sharp, searching look at the mention of the "old green guy", but said nothing.  Goku went on.  "So, he cut it off with some kind of spell, and I woke up the next morning, and it was really gone.  Pretty realistic dream, wasn't it?"

"That was no dream," Piccolo the Younger said.  "The green personage you saw was Earth's Guardian, and one of the Ones, the Lords who rule our universe.  He obviously felt that your tail was a danger to you or to others." 

"Whoa!"  Yamcha took his eyes off the fast-flying Saiyan ahead of them, and angled his head in Goku's direction.  "You met a deity!   I knew there was something special about you."

Bulma huffed.  "I'm the special one around here," she told him with narrowed eyes.  "Though, of course Goku is special himself.  I won't deny the obvious."

Yamcha laughed weakly.  "Of course, you are special, Miss Bulma.  There's no one like you on Earth, that's for sure."

"Good.  But I still haven't met a deity."  She shrugged in a genteel manner.  "I suppose it's for the best.  If the Ones visit us in our dreams, then they'd see me with nighttime hair."  She changed the subject abruptly.  "Goku, weren't you upset when your tail vanished?"

"Nah.  It was kind of hard to walk straight for a few days, because I totally lost my balance, but after that, I was fine."

"Oh.  I wonder; did you all hear what that prince said about a prophecy?  And I didn't think anything of it before, but he seemed to know my identity when first we spoke.  And he rather scornfully referred to us as heroes.  Does this all tie into the ways in which we all met on this day?"

"Yes, and yes," was the Demon's answer.  "It is invariable that when a Human goes on a quest and meets bystanders who become companions, a Prophecy is at the root of it all.  So said my Sire, when he read to me as a child, and so it must be."

"Whoa."  Krillin leaned forward, accidentally bashing the place where his nose would have been had he been the possessor of a nose on Bulma's neck as she leaned back and stretched out a kink in her upper back.  "Ouch!  Sorry, Miss Bulma."

"Hmph.  I think you hurt yourself more than you hurt me," Bulma said, checking to see if the small man's nose-free zone was all right.  "I wonder what sort of prophecy it is, and how we are all involved?"

"I suppose they'll tell us at the castle, won't they, Lord Yamcha?" Puar squeaked, fluttering a bit in the wind.  The reformed bandit pursed his mouth in thought, and then gave an indecisive nod.

"The castle – speaking of it, there it is now!  Ooh, it's gorgeous, in a dark, creepy, entirely masculine, military sort of way."  Bulma eyed the imposing brown stone building as they approached.  It was very large, tall, and spread out in eight different directions from a cylindrical center.  Before a long walkway waited the four Saiyans.  She was really going to have to work to remember to call them that.  Saiyans.  Saiyans.  Saiyans.  There.  But it still made no sense.

They touched down, and Yamcha brought the car to a stop, just before the formidable quartet.  Piccolo the Younger floated cross-legged next to the vehicle, an assessing expression on his face.

"You are too damned slow.  Put that thing away and hurry," the prince told them as he turned away and began to walk up the stairs.

Bulma stuck out her tongue at his back.  Nappa, noticing, almost swallowed the end of his mustache he was chewing.  Yamcha and the others removed themselves from the car, and it was encapsulated.  All was silence, punctuated by a strong feeling of impatience radiating from the prince.  Up the stone walkway they hurried, as per the prince's snappish request.

There was a set of three wide stairs leading to a large oaken door, above which was the crest of an angry were-monkey beating its chest.  Large, blocky letters in a language Bulma did not recognize set off the design.  She felt her heart beat a little faster.  It's destiny, she told herself.  I shouldn't be so nervous.  But this world, this cultureit's not at all what I'm used to.  She tensed slightly as the door opened, and two very, very tall, very wide hunks of muscle looked out at the group of locals and travelers.

The prince ignored them as he climbed the steps and passed through the doorway.  The other three Saiyans hung back, and then the lady Saiyan nodded at Bulma and Piccolo the Younger to move forward.  With them, she ascended the stairs, and the door guards moved back to let them all through.  Bulma's mind was ticking away as she observed their conduct.  Social precedence: much the same here as elsewhere.  She heard the others follow behind them until they were all in the hall, and then she relaxed a bit and began to look around. 

Oh, wow!  That was her first thought as she turned her gaze hither and yon.  How beautiful it is – in that same masculine, dark, spooky way, of course.  It doesn't look like anything I'd see at the Emperor's Palace, but it is still worthy of admiration. It doesn't seem like there would be rats here after all, and I'm very glad of that.  She tried not to look like a yokel as she took in the high ceiling, pale bronze walls, a long, brown-carpeted entryway with three arched recesses on either side – and two more Saiyans, dressed formally in red capes, waiting at the end of the carpet near a high wall decorated with tapestries of mountain scenes.  Are those his parents?  They came to meet me?  I'm honored.

The group shuffle-stepped forward due to their differing stride lengths, until they arrived in front of the regal pair.  "Father," Prince Vegeta said.  "Mother.  Here are the Blue-Haired Woman and her Companions, whose names I do not know nor give a damn if I ever know."  The bearded were-monkey to whom the younger Vegeta bore an amazing resemblance and the tiny female next to him both regarded their son gravely, and then turned their gazes back to their new guests.  The prince spoke once more, a sadistically amused smile crossing his dark features. "Blue-Haired Woman and Companions, bow down before their Royal Majesties, King Vegeta, and Queen Cressika." Everyone bowed, except for Piccolo the Younger, who merely lowered his head.

"Be welcome to the Kingdom of Vegetable and the Palace of the Seventeen Hundred Winds, Blue-Haired Woman and Companions," the King of the Saiyans said in a sonorous voice which Bulma thought was very sexy…though she did wish they'd stop calling her The Blue Haired-Woman.  She did have a name, which she was planning to make them all use, or else.  Then she watched as he did a double take.  "Turles, where is your uniform, and how did you become so pale?" he snapped.

"Father, that is not Turles," the short, angry prince said in a short, angry tone.   "He is Bardock's lost son, Kakarrot, one of the ones with low-level power readings.  Radditz told me of him.  It can be no other.  Somehow he ended up here, and survived, but his programming malfunctioned.  How ironic.  If it had not, we would not be here ourselves."

"I see.  How fortunate."  The king yawned.  "Well, have someone take him to Radditz and have him introduce his brother to his family.  They can see if anything can be made of him as a warrior.  It is my concern no longer."

"But why does he have no tail?" the queen suddenly asked, the ferocious but polite social smile she'd adopted leaving her face.  "Unless…do you hide it somewhere, son of Bardock?"

Goku scratched the back of his head.  "Uh, Piccolo the Younger just told me a few minutes ago that Earth's Guardian cut it off when I was younger, Your Majesty.  It hasn't grown back."

Every Saiyan in the room winced.  "That is abominable," the king growled.  "However, I will not missay the will of the Ones.  We have learned that everything here happens for a reason.  You will be unable to change to your other form, but as you have obviously made do with this lack, it will probably make little difference to you at this time."

"Other form?  The were-monkey, right?  But what's a were-monkey, your Kingship?" The Spargatian who wasn't a Human after all looked to the king for an answer.

"When the moon is full, we have the ability to change into giant apes, taller than trees and wider than ourselves by far."  The king eyed Goku as though he were some sort of lowly yet intriguing worm.  "It is one of our greatest battle strengths."

"A giant ape?  Then that means…that means I…damn it…I was the monster who killed my grandpa."  Goku bowed his head in anguish while the other Saiyans looked on in blank confusion.  "He told me never to look at the full moon, and I never did, until I accidentally saw it one night.  I don't remember what happened after that.  He was dead when I woke up."

"Oh, Goku, I'm so sorry.  But you couldn't have known," Bulma said, wishing she could pat her friend on the back and tell him all would be well.  However, one couldn't offer such gestures of comfort to a proud fighting man in a testosterone-filled setting like this; he'd be certain to lose face among his fellows.

"These matters are not uncommon," the queen added, not without sympathy.  "We must all be trained from a very early age to live with that form and keep it under control.  It does not come naturally to us to do so.  Please, feel not so much regret at this chance happening.  We are violent and we live to fight.  It is how we are, and have always been.  Accidents happen when we are strong and those who surround us are fragile."  She clapped her hands, and three smaller Saiyans, presumably servants, appeared in front of them.  "You must all be fatigued from your journey.  Let these ones direct you to some refreshment."

The Spargatian's eyes glowed, and a happier expression returned to his face as he made an attempt to shrug off his feelings of melancholy.  "Food!  Thank you!  Your Majesties."

"Guide him to Bardock or Radditz, whomever it is you find first, and the others to the places appropriate to their stations.  Go now.  We will meet again," King Vegeta said, now looking much like he had a toothache for some reason.

Bulma turned and started to follow the crowd, but a heavy hand on her shoulder stayed her.  "Wait, please."

"See you later, Miss Bulma!  I hope you get some good food!" Goku said, and was gone, as the servants split up the group and her companions disappeared in various directions through the arched recesses, which she realized now were cleverly disguised doorways.

Nappa was the only one left in the hall besides Bulma and the royal family and he removed his hand from the young woman's shoulder when she returned to her former position.  "Be at ease," he said, and at a nod from the queen, made off down a left hand corridor at the side of the tapestry-covered wall.

The blue-haired woman swiveled her gaze back to the king, queen, and prince, wondering what they would say to her.  She felt her stomach start to churn again as she watched them watch her with three pairs of dark, intense, unreadable eyes.  What would they say to her?  What should she say to them?

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And, so, after a transitional Chapter, I welcome you back.  I promise you, I shall be very angry if the Royal Vegetables are unkind to our heroine.  I will…you again?

(Prince Vegeta appears, uncloaked this time)  You will what?  I thought I warned you sufficiently last time we spoke.  I do not want to have to tell you another time; stop casting aspersions on my behavior.  Why should you care how I treat the Blue-Haired Woman?  She is not for you.

Timaeus:  (Bows head)  Aye, I know, I am unworthy of her beauty and goodness.  However, I expect that such an incomparable woman should be treated with the respect due her station in life.

Prince Vegeta:  Hmph.  The tale is not done yet.  We will see how I treat her in the end.  For the moment, I do not know the creature, she's an alien, and she is being forced on me.  How do you think I should feel?

Timaeus:  You have a point, Handsome but Cruel Prince Vegeta.  I shall be silent on the matter unless events dictate otherwise.

Prince Vegeta:  You would be wise to keep your counsel, and thus keep your head.  (Disappears)

(Timaeus closes his eyes for a moment, perhaps in embarrassment, and then opens them wide, jester fashion, to smile at the Audience.)  Well, and was that not some fine, unexpected entertainment for you?  I hope I will see you again for our next Chapter, in which Prince Vegeta and his presumed future spouse learn a little more about one another, and Goku meets his family.  Thank you as always for your attention, and may all the clouds you see today remind you of cute, fluffy bunnies. 

A/N:  Thanks for reading and/or reviewing!  This chapter was more about throwing in some explanations for things I hadn't yet explained than it was about action or romance, as you saw.  Next chapter will hopefully be more exciting.  And, nope, I'm not making Nappa evil in this fic.  He's better in the manga than in the anime, and who knows how he or Radditz would have developed as characters if they hadn't served Freeza for so many years.

Have a good day! ^_^