A/N: I think I've sorted out the format thing, at least, I hope I have, sorry about that all, i replaced chapter five so it's easier to read, so that's all good. Thank you Penchy-chan, for the review, that made my day, good to know someone's reading my stuff. Yay! I have style and diction (good diction, even better ^_^) That made my day. And all of Assena's reviews, of course ^_^ So I got to writing the next chapter (this one) and it's even got Gohan in it ^_^ and I'm even half way through the one after that. I'd upload two at once, but it's sunny outside and there's berries that need a'picking, so you'll have to wait ^_^
*******Chapter Six~Coronation*******
*************
Gohan landed gently behind Bulma, so as not to jar his aching shoulder. Even the slight shock sent from his toes as they hit the soft dirt threw a jolt of pain up his side.
Bulma was kneeling in the dirt on the edge of the crater, looking down at the crash site. Her shoulders were shaking, one hand was clutching at the dirt at her side. Gohan thought she was crying silently, until she turned round. He almost flinched. Her face was contorted with fury, her eyes were flaming. Had she been a ki fighter her hair would have been flying round her face, the dirt would be filling the air, and the wind would have been picking up to typhoon speeds. Had she been saiyan, there was a good change here eyes would be green.
As it was, she was thoroughly pissed.
She stood up, hearing his soft landing behind her. "And where were you?!" She screamed. "You! You who could have done something! I bet you felt them land!" Bulma glared daggers at Gohan, daggers and pitchforks and carving knives. Gohan held up his hands, to calm her down or protect himself.
"Bulma! Please, calm down. I couldn't to anything. Not without deserting dozens of helpless people." He said, keeping his voice level.
Deep down, Bulma believed him, but that was deep within her. She'd believe him later, but at this moment she needed someone to blame. "What about my son!" She shrieked.
Gohan took hold of her shoulders. "Bulma, listen. Trunks is your son, and Vegita's, remember that. Do not forget it. Trunks can take care of himself for now. He's not helpless and he's not stupid."
Bulma was silent as she battled with herself over control of her anger and control of the tears that were welling up behind it. Her voice cracked when she next spoke. "I...I know he's not. But Gohan...Have you ever seen a crater like that before? You would have been six, I think...The crater Vegita's ship made when he landed was just like that one. It was!" She repeated, as if he needed convincing. Gohan remembered, he'd gone with his dad to investigate the new power.
"Saiyans were here." Bulma continued. "And now they're gone, and Trunks is gone too." Her bottom lip trembled, and Gohan shifted his hands from her shoulders to put his arms around her. "It's not fair." Bulma mumbled, her voice muffled by his shoulder, thankfully not the one the androids had happened to. She didn't move for a few minutes, Gohan managed to sit her down on a nearby tree that had toppled over.
"We'll follow them." She exclaimed, lifting her head from his shoulder and wiping her upset blue eyes. "I'll build a space ship and we'll follow them. No! Vegita's is still here somewhere, we can do that up. Then we can tail the ship and get Trunks back. And you can show them the meaning of the word fair! No one messes with the Briefs! Or Son Gohan! We'll show them what for!" Bulma had that look about her. Her 'Woman On A Mission, Get Out Of My Way If You Ever Want Children' look. You didn't mess with a look like that, Gohan knew that. He wasn't stupid either. But he also knew he couldn't leave Earth, not until the androids were just another pile on the scrap heap.
"Let's go home, Bulma." He said, which wasn't an answer either way. He stood up, pulling Bulma gently with him, she didn't protest.
"Yes. I must get back to my lab. I must remodel Vegita's ship." Bulma sounded as if she was in some kind of trance. She knew what she would do, and was determined to see it through to the bitter end.
It was the bitter that Gohan was worried about.
*************
Far away, in the great hall of Vegita, the capital city of planet Vegita, the crowds gathered to witness the spectacular all-day all-night festival -Vegita's Festivities, they called it- that came with the crowning of their Prince Vegita. Saiyan's had a certain lack of imagination when it came to names.
The common folk of the city, and the many cities nearby, and those who had travelled so long just to be here this wondrous night, all gathered in the streets, swarming, drinking ale, yelling and breaking into friendly fights every half block. Today was the day of celebration, of the beginning of the end of the riots against the Council, for now they had a Prince they would be united by one ruler. No more wars -although a good fight they may be- that left the country scarred and barren, no more famine from the unforgiving ground, and no more hunger! This last promise was defiantly the most cheered among the saiyans. Very few of them understood the state of politics on their own planet, that the Rat, Rebel leader and the Rebel followers, had to be completely squashed before work could be as it once was, and trade of technology with the Arkosian's could be restored. Only then would the famine cease.
This had not been made public knowledge, all the saiyans knew was that they were hungry. It was a foolish move on the Council's behalf to keep the knowledge of the entire situation under wraps, perhaps if the Council had told them that the Rat was behind their lack of food, the commoners would not stop hunting him.
But the Council wanted the Rebel's bought to justice by their Prince. No one else. Their pigheadedness -with all due respect to pigs- was causing the people to go hungry.
A whisper was floating over the crowd. He's coming. Faces turned to face the tower and the balcony on which their Prince Vegita would make his first appearance as legal Prince. The red curtain was pushed aside and Parsnal, someone of little interest to the crowd, stepped onto the balcony, holding the curtain back for the one they'd all come to see. Prince Vegita. Golden crown on his head and royal livery on his chest. Yes, they said, this was their Prince.
Trunks was pushed onto the balcony by the official's accusing stares behind him, and was cheered on by the people, -faces of pink and brown smudges- below. He looked down and froze. He hadn't known so many people existed, let alone how they could all fit into one place. Many seemed to be standing on each other, but the annoyed shouts were lost in the tumultuous cheers that broke out when he appeared.
Trunks had to swallow hard, and remind himself to keep standing. He clenched his fists together and threw his head back, powering up. This, Parsnal had said, backed by nods of all the Council and Court members, was how a Prince greeted his new people.
His cloak flew out behind him, trying to escape, the wind picked up it's feet and wailed and roared in the banners, having a wonderful time in all the hanging royal livery. Trunks had his eyes shut as he concentrated hard, he must not let his power run away with him, he knew that no ten year old saiyan could be as strong as he was, and he did not want the planet to know his true power. The less they knew about him the more power he had over them. If a surprise burst of power could end up getting him out of here we was willing to keep his power compressed now.
The yells from below, and the impressed applause from behind him, grew louder. Many would be complaining of sore throats on the morrow. Very few of the people below had any money to but scouters with, but a large screen behind and above Trunks displayed numbers Trunks couldn't read, yet, which seemed to impress them all. Trunks let it drop, the cloak fell back into place on his shoulders and his black hair, the front half of which had broken free of it's bonds to the back of his neck, settled down neatly into place.
The ceremony had been very long, a lot of people who were probably very important seemed to think they were brilliant speakers and droned on for years with their speeches of his forefathers. Trunks had to keep pinching himself to keep awake, and when it came time for him to accept the crown he had to try not to look like a person waking from a long nap.
"Now." Parsnal said over the roars from below. "We get drunk, and celebrate until we can't get up again!"
And until the early hours of the morning, that was a pretty accurate description of what the saiyans did.
The nobles were putting on a feast of epic proportions, and just as Trunks had never known so many people existed, he was just as surprised to find so much food all in one place. He'd only ever dreamed of this much food. Most of it was forms of meat, although there was a good variety of fruits, and a few vegetables that Trunks tried not to laugh at the shape of. However most of the vegetation was only there to accompany the meat, and much of it was soaked in fat, while still managing to taste good. More fruit had been used in the wine and ale than was on the table.
Trunks nearly choked on his first sip of saiyan ale, although it was cold, it burned down his throat, warming him all the way to his stomach. It was incredibly bitter as well, Trunks's eyes flew open as his throat protested against such treatment and his stomach retched. Parsnal, who has just skulled a glass twice the size of the one he'd offered Trunks, gave him a funny look. Trunks swallowed the bile in his throat with another sip of the ale, then discreetly poured it under the table when no-one was watching, and managed to avoid drinking anymore.
A lot of nobles and Councilmen came and congratulated him on his powering-up display, although whether they did so out of routine or actually meant what they said, Trunks couldn't tell.
*************
Deep inside the Palace, in the badly lit, cold servants quarters, the sound of metal upon metal rang through the empty hallways. Only one person was down here, the rest of the servants were serving upstairs or joining in the common folks festival. Long hair hung over the face, and white, long fingered hands worked the knife against the sharpener, honing the blade to a deadly edge. The hands were pale, as if they didn't see sunlight enough, but the palms were hard with work, they resembled any Palace servant's hands.
With on last strike through the sharpener, the left hand picked up the knife and sliced through the air with it. The blade whistled with the speed of the arm that held it.
It's sharpness was tested against the wood of the floorboards under the table, with one hack the blade cut two inches into the wood.
The arm was strong. The blade was sharp.
Perfect.
*************
Maroda watched Prince Vegita leave, and nudged at Lushka who was half asleep at her left elbow.
"Wait a few minutes, then follow him." She whispered, looking at the door Trunks and the guards has exited through.
Lushka rose to tell her friends she was retiring for the night, then disappeared out the door.
*************
Trunks stumbled with exhaustion back to his room, and his two escorts following him were stumbling with the drink, which had appeared to be enormously popular and had left Parsnal -among many others- passed out over the long table.
Trunks yawned massively and opened the huge door to his room, which required more effort than his door at home because of it's size and thickness. The guards took up their watch, one on each side of the door in the hall as Trunks closed the door.
He stripped out of the clothes and into some odd looking pyjamas he found in the tall closet. There were no servants in his room, for which he was grateful, he was sick of being waited on, glad to do something for himself for once.
The bed had been made, and he crawled into it as tired as he had the night before. Due to his sleepiness, the bed was as welcomingly comfortable as before too.
Yet, he couldn't sleep, he closed his eyes and tried to, but his thoughts were on Earth, his real home, no matter what the saiyans said. He wondered what his mother was doing, what she thought of his disappearance, Trunks wished there was someway to tell her he was alright.
And Gohan, he missed Gohan. Sure, Parsnal was someone to talk to, and told him more about his father than Gohan could, and Lushka was friendly enough, but she was a girl.
Something outside his room went thwomp, and the beginnings of a yell were abruptly cut off. A second thwomp.
Trunks sat up, wondering what the noise meant.
The door creaked open. A small dim ray of light from flaming torches spilled into the room. Trunks abruptly lay down and closed his eyes without a sound, feeling as if he ought to be asleep, and slightly guilty that he wasn't.
He could sense the presence in the room, but wasn't familiar enough with anyone except Parsnal to know who it was by their small ki. It wasn't Parsnal, that was obvious, the figure was a lot smaller, lithe, and approaching quickly.
Trunks opened one eye. She'd gone. He didn't have a good feeling about this.
Something glinted in the pale light from the hall, something metal and travelling fast down towards him. He bolted, grabbing the sides of the bed and throwing himself out of it. There was the sound of the knife slitting open the mattress and the whomp of the person hitting the bed with force.
Her furious eyes turned towards him, there was too much shadow falling over the features for Trunks to get a proper look. She leapt off the bed and flew over his head -he was sprawled on the floor but quickly getting up- and hit the door hard, closing it and shutting out all light.
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Duh duh duuuh!
If I ask you to review again, will you?
Keep on reading people, it's only getting better! Actually, it's getting damn harder to write, as the complications arise and I have to keep track of everything, gah! But I like a challenge...I guess
It's a challenge getting you lot to review, but I'll leave my none so subtle hints now, and go outside in the sunlight *oooohs and aahhhhs*