Last time:
"On my honor," he replied formally, then gave in to all the instincts that were bombarding his mind.
Bulma didn't even have time to feel the tiny razors pierce her skin.
********************************************************
Bulma stepped back and gasped as Vegeta released her from his tight instinctual hold. His eyes were foggy and warm, his breathing slightly labored, his lips tinged with blood. He looked at her with a new purpose it seemed, that had a profound meaning, which meant everything in the grand scheme of things.
He tilted his head to the side, his neck muscles straining a bit. She knew what he wanted and yet, she couldn't move, her only support the strong arm around her waist.
"You said never, woman," he whispered, pulling her in. "Now make it happen."
She leaned in and pushed herself up on her toes, her arms around his neck, her lips touching the spot in which she was to tear at the flesh. She didn't know how her teeth were going to break the skin, how she was going to stand the taste of blood again after having the nauseating experience for so long, and yet she couldn't think of any place she'd rather be or any being she'd rather be with.
Without another moment to think, she pressed hard down on his skin, breaking it with mild difficulty. The blood flowed into her mouth and her first instinct was to spit it out, though she held it in and swallowed deeply. A wave of euphoria passed over her and her body shuddered. Had Vegeta felt this only moments before?
She sank down suddenly, blood on her lips. But she liked it.
"I have you," came Vegeta's voice, though it seemed faded and somehow completely personal. It was as if he was inside her head. "Don't tell me you forgot our discussion of long ago. We are no longer bound by words if we wish."
"Wh-What?" Her head was still dizzy and she couldn't for the life of her keep steady. Her feet and legs were in another dimension; she couldn't feel them. She wondered how she was standing.
Again came that faded voice. "We don't need words anymore. You are my mate. I will protect you always." Though the words were unspoken and only lived within the confines of their skulls, the tone was Vegeta's usual and more like he was reading from a Saiyan Mating book than anything. But she didn't care. He was hers always and there was nothing that could conceivably separate them. Always would they be mates, bound together, and somehow that didn't scare her as it had before, rather she was comforted by the idea that she would never be alone. Even if they grew to hate each other, which she knew was out of the question, they would still share an unmistakenable bond, and of course neither would be able to resist their attraction. But what was the use of thinking such things right now? All that mattered at that moment was Vegeta and his strong arms holding her tightly, the dull pain of her wound pulsing at the base of her neck.
Neither thought about the Fewsks who stood by and watched in amazement as the Saiyan and Earthling proverbially became one with each other. Never had they bared witness to an event so personal as custom to another race. And the Saiyan race no less! No one spoke for fear they would ruin the moment that had been brewing between the two aliens ever since they were aboard that ship together.
"I can't focus," Bulma whispered, her eyes drooping. She didn't attempt to communicate with her mind, she was too weak to even consider it right now. "Why am I so…..weak?"
"Your earthling body isn't used to Saiyan ritual," he answered with his voice. If she weren't so weary, she would have noticed the soothing nature in his words and the way he seemed to be comforting her through the shockwave that had only recently passed through her. "It'll pass in a few moments. Until then, I have you. I told you I would let no harm come to you, and with honor, I plan to fulfill my promise."
"How can I love so deeply someone as cold as you?" she asked, her voice still low and dull.
How can I love at all? Vegeta thought, veiling his mind from Bulma, though he knew for a fact that she could not pick up his thoughts unless he projected them to her. He would need to teach her that, but not now. Now was for something entirely different, besides, they had a celebration in their honor to attend.
"Faster music," Vegeta called to the band, startling the large group of Fewsks. "I'm going to show my mate how things are done around here."
************************************************************
After hours of dancing and swinging around to the tremendously upbeat music at the Fewskm Celebration, Bulma was about ready to collapse from sheer exhaustion, right there on the dance floor. At first she had been skeptical about the way the Fewsks danced, watching Vegeta in muted shock as he swayed his arms and pulled at her to move her body. She found that it was sort of a cross between Indian dances and Irish dances, for she found herself in a dancing circle more than a few times. She was more shocked, however, at the fact that Vegeta could dance and was enjoying himself. More than once he let out an unavoidable laugh, twirling her through the air.
That was the Vegeta she had always wished to see, and knew was buried deep inside, itching to be set free and just have fun.
Now her legs were sore and the wound on her neck was throbbing intensely. What she needed right now was a good hot bubble bath and a twelve hour nap.
"Vegeta," Bulma whispered as he scooped her off the dance floor and into his arms. He knew she was finished.
"Hmm?" His head was nuzzled in the crook of her neck, the opposite side of the bite mark, of course. Never had he displayed such outright affection to her before, but she wasn't one to complain and beg to be taken to a warm bed and sleep. The bath would do for now; he could join her.
"Can we go back to the ship tonight? I'm aching and I need a hot bath."
He frowned into her neck. Was she tired of him already?
"I'm expecting you to join me, of course."
She felt him smile, then he lifted off the ground and took towards the ship. They landed some ten minutes later, and Bulma could barely keep her eyes open, having to hold Vegeta's arm as he led her to the bathroom. He filled the tub with steaming water as she sat on the closed toilet and drifted in and out of consciousness. But by the time they were in the tub—and Bulma did not remember taking her clothes off, or climbing in—she was fully awake and very aware of the naked Saiyan that sat behind her, rubbing her back in slow, hypnotic circles. Tenderness again. But how long would this last? The Honeymoon Days.
After their long bath, Bulma slipped into a silk nightdress that Jemalin had given her a few days before—along with many other fine garments—and crawled into bed with the still naked Vegeta. And as inviting as he was, his head perched up, lying on one elbow; she found that she could not become more than attracted to him in her tiredness.
"I'm sorry Vegeta," she yawned, curling up into his chest, her hands brought up and clasped together. "I'm so tired."
"You know that I understand, woman," he grunted, nuzzling his face into her hair, his arms securely around her waist. "I'm not an animal. I want you to enjoy it as much as me."
"I will," she sighed, "in the morning. Wake me if I sleep too late." She let out another great yawn and pressed herself ever closer to her new lover. Kami, how long had she been without such loving contact?
She suddenly thought of those back home: her mother and father, Goku, Chi-Chi, Krillin, even Yamcha. She wondered what they were all doing right then, if they missed her, if they wondered where she was or if she was alright. Did Yamcha miss her? Did he care that she was gone? Or was he out bar hopping and screwing every pair of long legs he could get his hands on? She thought that sounded about right, and didn't care an ounce if that's in fact what he was and had been doing. She rather liked the idea of him being with another woman, that way her being with Vegeta wouldn't cause too much of an uproar, for him anyway. Goku would be elated and swear that he knew they were meant to be together, as would her mother. Her father and Chi-Chi would be skeptical about her relationship with the mad Saiyan Prince. And Krillin, well, he would be indifferent, though probably still terrified of his royal highness. How could she conceivably explain all that had taken place? We somehow fell in love? No, that would never pass. Vegeta was too hard, and she would never be believed as having such strong feelings for the Prince. A fling? No, she didn't feel comfortable with that. What about—
"It doesn't matter what they think," Vegeta said into her forehead, unable to keep from listening to her random thoughts. Tomorrow he would teach her to use her new power. "You know that. If they can't accept it, then it's their problem. We have no obligation to explain a thing to them. Simpletons."
"What will we be like when we're back on Earth?" She suddenly found herself not so tired, but eager to hear his answer. Would he all of a sudden become distant and cold, as the others always have seen him? She dared not voice her fears; the question was harsh enough.
"Woman," he sighed. He pulled his head back. "You forget so quickly. I can hear your thoughts, I know what you're thinking, and I can almost feel your doubts." He furrowed his brow slightly. Yes, the thoughts had pained him. Did she really think him that barbaric? "I am your mate and protector, father to your child. We. Are. In-sep-ar-a-ble."
"But you're—"
"My 'attitude', as you would call it, has no meaning in the long run. If I feel like sweeping you up and out of the room in front of all your ridiculous friends, then I will. If I want to hold you around the waist and kiss your neck, then I will. If I want to tear off your clothes—"
"Don't go that far, Vegeta," she laughed. "Save that for when we're alone." She yawned deeply, her tiredness returning to her at his calming words. He was right; it didn't matter. She had her Vegeta and she didn't care one bit what those at home would think. She was finally completely happy for the first time in her life.
She was asleep in minutes, unaware of the watchful Saiyan eyes upon her and the worry that they held. Of course SHE knew that it didn't matter, she'd never really cared what others thought, but did he?
He sighed deeply and pulled her closer.
I suppose I'll find out when we return.
***********************************************************
Bulma sat scrunched in the tiny compartment in the ship's floor that had started this whole adventure, her mind scrambling to access the situation. How had she gotten there? Why was the overhead door locked? Where was her mate, Vegeta? her sworn protector. Did he know where she was? Would he come to her rescue like so many times before?
She felt around her head for wounds. No, she hadn't fallen in like before. So what was going on?
Above, Vegeta stood in the control room, the door shut, his patience growing thin. It had been fifteen long minutes since he'd carefully placed the sleeping Bulma in the ship's storage compartment. Afterward he'd made sure to slam the door and stomp loudly into the control room to wake her.
In her state of shock, she only thought of where he was and how she would get out. Their special bond had completely fled her mind. He rolled his eyes as he listened to her frantic, yet reasonable, thoughts.
"Come on woman," he groaned. "Call out to me."
He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned into the control panel, determined to keep his promise to himself and teach her to communicate with him through their bonded minds. Sure there were easier ways of doing it, though they would take much too long. If she learned it as a survival tactic, she'd never forget it.
She's rational, he told himself. Sooner or later she'll figure it out. Kami, let it be sooner; this is a waste of valuable time.
Below, Bulma pulled her legs up under herself and crouched in the cramped basement cabin. She wasn't going to give up and waste away down there.
She hurled herself upwards into the overhead hatch. The door only rattled back into place when she crouched back down, the lock unaffected.
"Think, Bulma, think," she commanded her brain. "You're a genius for Kami's sake. You know there's a logical explanation for this, and a way out." She looked around, her eyes well adjusted to the darkness by now. Only crates of food, repair equipment, fuel tanks at the far end, and a box full of tins containing dino caps. She made a mental note to grab that box when she got out. "Ok, someone put you here. Someone locked the door. Someone—" And then it suddenly hit her like a raging dinosaur. "But how?" she mumbled to herself, the answer as clear as day. "Do I just think what I want to say?" She pursed her lips together and concentrated; it was worth a shot.
Vegeta looked lazily around the control room, knowing everyone button and switch on the circuit boards, the information programmed into his mind. Everyone piece of metal and wire had been approved by him, and most of the ship he had witnessed being built.
"Stop thinking about my handiwork and get me out of here," came the unmistakenable voice of Bulma, though something was different. He smiled. She'd finally figured it out.
"Well woman," he answered mentally. "I was beginning to think you'd never realize the obvious truth." He paused, then added, "Are you angry with me?"
"Pissed," she replied, her inner voice calm.
"I'm impressed. Not only did you figure it out and communicate to me, you were able to pick up my unguarded thoughts. I'll have to teach you to unlock my mind later, though you'll only be able to do it if I don't put up a fight."
"Shut up and open the damn door," she hissed aloud, knowing full well that he was now standing over the hatch. He obliged and flicked the latch. "That was not funny, mister," she snapped once the door was open. She handed him the box of dino cap tins and climbed out, ignoring his outstretched hand. Of course she wasn't actually mad at him, but it was a nasty trick he played on her, and she was going to milk him for a moment longer, or as long as she could hold out. "Do you have any idea what it's like to wake up in a place like that? That's the second time that's happened to me. I'm going to have a heart attack before I'm thirty."
Vegeta only looked at her in quiet astonishment. Was she really that angry with him? Had what he done really been so wrong?
"No, Vegeta," she sighed. She set down the box and walked over to him, taking his hands. "I'm not angry. But that was a real mean thing to do. I was really scared for a minute."
"More like fifteen," he huffed, not at all pleased with her joke.
"Oh, come on. You tricked me, I tricked you. Fair's fair. Don't be a poor sport."
He smirked down at her.
"Jerk." But then she let herself smile as well. She let go of his hands and wrapped her arms around his waist, her head resting on his chest. "I can't stop thinking about our child, Vegeta," she said. "I want to know what it'll be, what I'll name him or her. I can't believe I'm going to be a mother."
"No one is as surprised about that as I am," Vegeta said, receiving a playful slap on the back.
"Shut up. I'll make a great mother."
"You're a big child, woman."
"All the more reason for me to believe I'll be an excellent mother. I'll understand our child better with a so-called child's mind…..Do you think about our child?"
He didn't answer right away, and then said, "Yes, very much. It should be male."
"Can't you sense what it is?" She leaned her head back some to look at his face. "I mean, you knew I was pregnant before I told you. You sensed that."
"True," he said. "But the child's sex hasn't been determined yet. It's still quite young. When I know, you'll know."
Their eyes suddenly locked and Vegeta leaned in to capture his mate's lips, relishing in the fact that she was his forever and this simple gesture could be done without restraint until the end of their days. She was cured and would live on with him on Earth, where they'd raise their child and be a—family? He cringed inwardly at the thought as he was trained to do, though something in the back of his mind told him a family was a pleasant thing, and that he'd enjoy having one, especially with Bulma.
She looked into his eyes imploringly when their lips finally separated, as if she'd heard his thoughts, though he knew that was impossible, for ever since his little game he'd been veiling them expertly. She was about to open her mouth and say what was on the tip of her tongue, when there came a loud banging at the ship's entrance, followed by frantic yelling.
"Bulma! Vegeta! The most terrible thing has happened! You must come! Now!" It was Senju's hysterical voice that traveled to the lovers' ears. Vegeta quickly went to the door and let Senju, and Golana, into the ship, their eyes swollen from recent crying.
"What's happened?" Vegeta demanded. He glanced back at Bulma, who hadn't moved from her spot. She was most likely expecting the worst to come from Senju's mouth. And, unfortunately, it did.
"It's that evil queen," Senju moaned. "She's come for Jemalin. Furto and the others are trying to fight her and her cohorts off, but they are too strong. We—"
"We need you Vegeta!" Golana cried suddenly, lunging herself forward and into his arms. He patted her head awkwardly, unsure of how to comfort his once good friend. She looked up at him, tears crashing onto her cheeks. She was in utter despair for her friend Furto and his beautiful mate. "You are the only one who can help them! Please, stop that wretched queen before it's too late!"
"Woman," Vegeta said sternly, nearly startling her into a fit. "I'm going ahead of you all. I can get there the fastest." He turned back to Golana, still clutching him hysterically. "You and Senju bring Bulma in behind me, but protect her Kami damn it!" Bulma wondered for a split second why he was even allowing her to come, though knew the answer before she barely thought of the question; he knew she would want to come, beg even, and hold him up. She would want to see Furto and Jemalin for the last time if such a fate befell them. He was wise to give his orders and include her. Before she knew it, he was gone and she was in Senju's arms and in the air, Golana coasting beside them.
She didn't say a word.
*******************************************************
Bulma let out a blood-curdling scream upon entering Furto's home.
Queen Ezador stood in the foyer of the home, her cohorts behind her, and Furto's struggling body in her grasp, a jagged knife to his throat. He was kicking out frenetically, his breathing labored, his eyes sharp and quick. There was no way he would give up without a fight and lose the love of his life, again, who was held by three of the queen's men, one being the Prince of Doon, Eltamar, and the others nameless cronies. She put up just as much of a fight as her mate, biting and snarling at the hands that bound her.
"When I break free," Jemalin hissed, "I'll tear you limb from limb, mother!" Never had Bulma heard someone threaten their own mother, though in this case, she fully understood. Ezador was an evil being, deserving of anything Jemalin would do to her.
"You won't get close enough to touch me, pretty girl," the queen snapped, tightening her hold on Furto. "And you! You kick me one more time and I'll sever your ugly gray head!"
"You know, your majesty, it's not very honorable to treat the father of your future grandchild in such a way," Vegeta said, starring directly into Ezador's eyes. It was clear that he hadn't made a move to stop any of the Doonso. He was biding his time, waiting for the right moment. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill you."
"You won't touch me," she seethed, taking a step back. She knew his power. Eltamar chuckled at his mother's fear, always holding a special malicious place for her in his blackened heart. "Shut up ingrate," she said to him. He only laughed harder.
"Mother," he sighed, letting go of his sister and stepping up beside her. Immediately another Doonso took his place. "You're being absolutely ridiculous about this whole ordeal. Why not simply crown myself as the King and I shall find a suitable mate for the Queen? You strain yourself much too hard on the subject of heirs. I can be your heir."
"You," she retorted, "are nothing more than a whining, useless sack of flesh! You disgrace the Doonso Royal Family with every breath you take! I despise you."
Before Bulma knew what was happening, Ezador was slammed against the nearest wall, Furto had stumbled forward and out of her grasp, and Eltamar was clutching her dagger, pressing it to his mother's neck. The tables had turned, Bulma thought, but was it now in their favor?
Vegeta tensed at Bulma's side, his brow narrowing as he watched in silence the display before them. A Queen, her son and daughter, her daughter's mate, and a half a dozen Doonso soldiers. What an unlikely situation. He hadn't expected they'd find them so soon. Or maybe he was just too caught up in his dealings with Bulma that he'd completely let thoughts of an impeding attack slip his mind. He was suddenly ashamed for being so neglectful.
"It's not your fault," Bulma said mentally, grabbing his hand. He was thankful for her comfort, much to his surprise.
"You look frightened, mother," came Eltamar's harsh voice, catching Bulma's attention. She glanced at him, then to Furto, who was now held captive by the remaining soldiers. "Have I actually caused you fear?" She didn't answer, only glared at her hateful son. "I hope so." He pushed the knife ever closer to breaking the skin.
"Let me go!" Jemalin yelped, kicking one of her captors in the shine. "I'll tear you all to pieces!"
"One of these days, Princess," Eltamar said, shooting his sister a quick glare, "I'm going to become fed up with you, and I might just dispose of you like I plan to mother." He turned back to the queen, his demeanor changing quite suddenly. "Turn away from this brutality, my beautiful Bulma," he said, not turning to look at her. "And you, mother, you look into my eyes when I cut you open. This is my vengeance, and you will know it fully." He laughed cruelly, pressing the knife harder so as to draw a trickle of blood. Any further and she'd be done for. Bulma prayed that he'd go further. "Aren't you just kicking yourself now for bringing me along? 'You're coming, ingrate.' Lot of good that did you, mother." Without another moment's hesitation, he cut the dagger deep into his mother's throat and yanked it viciously to the side. Bulma didn't flinch or turn away, but rather watched intently, somewhat enjoying the sight before her. She'd never seen someone die in such a fashion before. She found that she liked it, startling herself. But anyone that cruel deserved to die a hateful death.
The next few minutes flew by in the blink of an eye. After Eltamar had dropped his mother's limp body and her dagger to the floor, Vegeta took it upon himself to dispose of the six Doonso soldiers, snapping their necks and blasting them pointblank in the guts with ki blasts. He didn't exactly know what to do when his eyes fell on Eltamar, so he stopped in his tracks and starred at him. Finally the Doonso Prince spoke.
"I've come to retrieve my Bulma. She'll accompany me back to Doon and reign as queen." He crossed his arms over his puffed-up chest. "I will not have it any other way."
"Ever happy to disappoint an unworthy scum like you," Vegeta stated, a smirk pulling at his lips, "the woman will not go willingly. She is my mate, by choice."
"Who said anything about going willingly? And thank you, Saiyan, but I was fully aware of your disgusting little bond." He spit at Vegeta's boots, curling his nose up in hatred. "She will be mine, I can assure you of that."
"Not if you're dead," Jemalin whispered, seconds before she rammed his abandoned dagger into his back, tearing through him and out his chest. He fell to his knees, clawing at the wound with one hand, and Bulma with the other. She stepped back when his fingertips touched her bare feet.
Jemalin—without the slightest bit of mercy, of which her brother deserved none—grabbed him up by his collar and forced his eyes to meet hers.
"I am the true heir to Doon," she said, smiling cruelly. Bulma was almost frightened by her manner. "I am the heir, and I don't want the damn crown. All your life you're craved nothing more than to sit up on those ugly thrones, trying and failing miserably at getting on mother's good side. I have in my hands the one thing you never could, and I'm throwing it away. I thought you should know that before I finished you off." He let out a small gasp, just before Jemalin lifted his limp body with both hands and threw him onto his back, driving the knife ever deeper, and sending her pitiless brother to his grave.
She didn't bat an eyelash when she stood and said, "Vegeta, will you assist me in disposing of our mess?"
He nodded respectfully at the Princess and reluctantly left Bulma's side. She didn't protest or ask to join them, and neither did Furto. It was a royalty thing; they all understood that.
*************************************************************
"I still cannot believe what just happened," Bulma sighed, her breathing back to normal after having nearly hyperventilated in after-shock. She had wrapped herself up in a warm blanket provided by Senju, and sat with him, Furto, and Golana; the others of the home expressed their grief that such a thing had taken place, then left the four to themselves. "I just watched eight beings lose their lives."
"I know," Furto sighed, hanging his head. "My Jemalin killed her own flesh and blood. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about that…"
"I'd say I'm shocked too at Vegeta, but he's a known murderer. I only wish he hadn't been so brutal in front of me. It's chilling. That man will father my child for Kami's sake."
Senju laughed despite the situation.
"What?"
"Vegeta's your mate and he let you witness his brutality, while Eltamar advised you to cover your eyes. It's ironic, is all." He looked at the floor, ashamed for his outburst. "Sorry."
"It's fine. I know what you mean. And now…now he's dead. It's strange. I never thought I'd see those beings again, and they just died before my eyes. What will become of the Kingdom now? No queen and no heir. I can't imagine they'd be stable enough to continue with that particular bloodline."
"I agree," said Furto, his voice stronger now, accepting little by little that his mate had recently murdered a man. "They must have precautions."
"And we do," came Jemalin's silky voice, all rage completely gone from it. They all turned to face her, and the Prince that stood at her side. They were both covered in a layer of white dust, sand sticking to their clothes in some places, and blood…..everywhere, especially coating their hands and deep in their fingernails. Jemalin's face was illuminated with a smile, despite her appearance and everything that had happened, and Vegeta was his usual scowling self. No one knew what to make of the blood that decorated their clothes, hands, and faces and definitely had not been there before, though no one ventured to ask. Besides, it didn't matter how the foul Doonso were disposed of, just as long as they were gone. Bulma had an unpleasant flash of Vegeta and Jemalin hacking the eight bodies into pieces with meat cleavers, blood splattering in all directions. She tried to veil her thoughts, though realized she didn't know how and only sighed.
"What kind of precautions?" Golana finally asked, breaking the intense silence. Bulma expected Vegeta to come sit by her, as did Furto with Jemalin, though they both stood still in the doorway of the central room, their secrets untouchable. Something ghastly had occurred when they took those bodies outside.
"My father has an unmated sister. In the event of my mother's death, or mine, Uldox would take over as Queen. Simple," Jemalin said, then turned to Furto and smiled. "King Gregor, my father…I would like to bring him along with us when we leave this planet." She stopped there, though there was still much she wanted to say. She loved her father deeply, that much was clear, and he was a kind and gentle man. Furto respected him with the highest honor.
"I think that's a wonderful idea, my love," Furto said, wanting desperately for her to come and sit with him. But it was her decision, and obviously neither she, nor the Prince, wished to have close contact with their mates that this time. "But with your mother gone and you free of being heiress, what need is there for us to flee?"
Jemalin smiled genuinely at her mate. She hadn't considered that.
"You're absolutely right," she said. "My father can come and live with us here. His sister is nothing like my mother, she despises her, and Geranoma. The Elpin will, of course, be moved to another, more practical, planet." She turned to face Vegeta suddenly and smiled, and, to everyone's complete surprise, he smiled weakly back at her. "Thank you so much for making this possible," she said to him, then turned to Bulma. "And you too. Without you two coming into our lives none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have my Furto, my mother would still rule…Thank you."
For a long moment Vegeta didn't speak, let alone respond, and then he said, quite gently, "A Prince's duty," and turned to leave. Bulma almost called out to him, but stopped herself at the last minute, just as he faded out of view. Jemalin followed the Prince's lead, though turned in the direction of her and Furto's room, rather than the entrance, where Vegeta was surely going.
Bulma sighed deeply and pulled her blanket ever closer to herself and closed her eyes. She wanted so badly to know what was troubling her Prince, so badly to comfort him and lavish him with hugs and kisses and promises that everything would be alright, but she didn't know what was bothering him. She turned to Furto for answers.
"What happened out there?" she whispered, subconsciously pulling her legs in closer to her body. Furto sighed and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. He had none of the answer she was looking for.
"I don't know, Miss," he said. "I don't suggest we breech the subject with them. They'll tell us when they're ready."
"Do you mind if I stay the night here? I don't suppose Vegeta wants company right now." But she couldn't have been more wrong.
"Of course you can. I'll be in Vegeta's quarters then if you need me." He stood and walked out of the room, his head heavy with worry.
"Try not to let it bother you," Senju offered. He kissed her forehead, then followed suit with Furto.
"He's right," Golana said. She stood and held her hand to Bulma, who accepted it without question, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet. "Give the Prince some time. Something isn't right in the air, and the dust needs to settle before answers can be found." Bulma found her words oddly comforting, and leaned into her new friend's embrace as she escorted her to her guestroom. "Good night Bulma. Sleep well."
"Good night," Bulma yawned, then added, "And thanks, for everything. I'm really going to miss you when we leave."
"And I you."
Without another word or gesture Golana disappeared into the shadows, leaving Bulma alone in her doorway, feeling confused at best.
She sighed deeply, her heart full of dread, and entered her room. Perhaps tomorrow she would find her answers.
"Yes," she said bitterly to herself. "And perhaps tomorrow Vegeta will give me a dozen long-stemmed roses and serenade me in Spanish."
Her precious little world seemed to crumble out from under her as she crawled into bed. Tomorrow she would find out, though something in the back of her mind told her that tomorrow could very well mean the end of everything she held dear.
She closed her eyes and forced sleep.
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---Chapter 31!! Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Another chapter baby! Wow, I'm really impressing myself lately with my writing, heehee. Before I was just like: "Ok, this is good, but I can do better." Now I feel that these past few chapters couldn't be better and I wouldn't change a thing. And I'm completely modest, lol. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and yeah, I did throw in some extra turmoil, 'cause for some reason I can't do without it for very long. I liked it though, now Furto and Jemalin can live without worry.
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)
Next time: Bulma feels as though she's back to square one with her Prince; the secrets, the distance, the masking of emotions. She refuses to confront him however, and must instead wait for him to reveal his worries to her. But what she finds out may be a little too much for her to handle…Find out next time! :P
Note: Sorry the chapter took so long, but I don't know what's up with my beta-reader :( Hopefully she'll get in touch with me soon (this chapter is unchecked my her eyes).
"On my honor," he replied formally, then gave in to all the instincts that were bombarding his mind.
Bulma didn't even have time to feel the tiny razors pierce her skin.
********************************************************
Bulma stepped back and gasped as Vegeta released her from his tight instinctual hold. His eyes were foggy and warm, his breathing slightly labored, his lips tinged with blood. He looked at her with a new purpose it seemed, that had a profound meaning, which meant everything in the grand scheme of things.
He tilted his head to the side, his neck muscles straining a bit. She knew what he wanted and yet, she couldn't move, her only support the strong arm around her waist.
"You said never, woman," he whispered, pulling her in. "Now make it happen."
She leaned in and pushed herself up on her toes, her arms around his neck, her lips touching the spot in which she was to tear at the flesh. She didn't know how her teeth were going to break the skin, how she was going to stand the taste of blood again after having the nauseating experience for so long, and yet she couldn't think of any place she'd rather be or any being she'd rather be with.
Without another moment to think, she pressed hard down on his skin, breaking it with mild difficulty. The blood flowed into her mouth and her first instinct was to spit it out, though she held it in and swallowed deeply. A wave of euphoria passed over her and her body shuddered. Had Vegeta felt this only moments before?
She sank down suddenly, blood on her lips. But she liked it.
"I have you," came Vegeta's voice, though it seemed faded and somehow completely personal. It was as if he was inside her head. "Don't tell me you forgot our discussion of long ago. We are no longer bound by words if we wish."
"Wh-What?" Her head was still dizzy and she couldn't for the life of her keep steady. Her feet and legs were in another dimension; she couldn't feel them. She wondered how she was standing.
Again came that faded voice. "We don't need words anymore. You are my mate. I will protect you always." Though the words were unspoken and only lived within the confines of their skulls, the tone was Vegeta's usual and more like he was reading from a Saiyan Mating book than anything. But she didn't care. He was hers always and there was nothing that could conceivably separate them. Always would they be mates, bound together, and somehow that didn't scare her as it had before, rather she was comforted by the idea that she would never be alone. Even if they grew to hate each other, which she knew was out of the question, they would still share an unmistakenable bond, and of course neither would be able to resist their attraction. But what was the use of thinking such things right now? All that mattered at that moment was Vegeta and his strong arms holding her tightly, the dull pain of her wound pulsing at the base of her neck.
Neither thought about the Fewsks who stood by and watched in amazement as the Saiyan and Earthling proverbially became one with each other. Never had they bared witness to an event so personal as custom to another race. And the Saiyan race no less! No one spoke for fear they would ruin the moment that had been brewing between the two aliens ever since they were aboard that ship together.
"I can't focus," Bulma whispered, her eyes drooping. She didn't attempt to communicate with her mind, she was too weak to even consider it right now. "Why am I so…..weak?"
"Your earthling body isn't used to Saiyan ritual," he answered with his voice. If she weren't so weary, she would have noticed the soothing nature in his words and the way he seemed to be comforting her through the shockwave that had only recently passed through her. "It'll pass in a few moments. Until then, I have you. I told you I would let no harm come to you, and with honor, I plan to fulfill my promise."
"How can I love so deeply someone as cold as you?" she asked, her voice still low and dull.
How can I love at all? Vegeta thought, veiling his mind from Bulma, though he knew for a fact that she could not pick up his thoughts unless he projected them to her. He would need to teach her that, but not now. Now was for something entirely different, besides, they had a celebration in their honor to attend.
"Faster music," Vegeta called to the band, startling the large group of Fewsks. "I'm going to show my mate how things are done around here."
************************************************************
After hours of dancing and swinging around to the tremendously upbeat music at the Fewskm Celebration, Bulma was about ready to collapse from sheer exhaustion, right there on the dance floor. At first she had been skeptical about the way the Fewsks danced, watching Vegeta in muted shock as he swayed his arms and pulled at her to move her body. She found that it was sort of a cross between Indian dances and Irish dances, for she found herself in a dancing circle more than a few times. She was more shocked, however, at the fact that Vegeta could dance and was enjoying himself. More than once he let out an unavoidable laugh, twirling her through the air.
That was the Vegeta she had always wished to see, and knew was buried deep inside, itching to be set free and just have fun.
Now her legs were sore and the wound on her neck was throbbing intensely. What she needed right now was a good hot bubble bath and a twelve hour nap.
"Vegeta," Bulma whispered as he scooped her off the dance floor and into his arms. He knew she was finished.
"Hmm?" His head was nuzzled in the crook of her neck, the opposite side of the bite mark, of course. Never had he displayed such outright affection to her before, but she wasn't one to complain and beg to be taken to a warm bed and sleep. The bath would do for now; he could join her.
"Can we go back to the ship tonight? I'm aching and I need a hot bath."
He frowned into her neck. Was she tired of him already?
"I'm expecting you to join me, of course."
She felt him smile, then he lifted off the ground and took towards the ship. They landed some ten minutes later, and Bulma could barely keep her eyes open, having to hold Vegeta's arm as he led her to the bathroom. He filled the tub with steaming water as she sat on the closed toilet and drifted in and out of consciousness. But by the time they were in the tub—and Bulma did not remember taking her clothes off, or climbing in—she was fully awake and very aware of the naked Saiyan that sat behind her, rubbing her back in slow, hypnotic circles. Tenderness again. But how long would this last? The Honeymoon Days.
After their long bath, Bulma slipped into a silk nightdress that Jemalin had given her a few days before—along with many other fine garments—and crawled into bed with the still naked Vegeta. And as inviting as he was, his head perched up, lying on one elbow; she found that she could not become more than attracted to him in her tiredness.
"I'm sorry Vegeta," she yawned, curling up into his chest, her hands brought up and clasped together. "I'm so tired."
"You know that I understand, woman," he grunted, nuzzling his face into her hair, his arms securely around her waist. "I'm not an animal. I want you to enjoy it as much as me."
"I will," she sighed, "in the morning. Wake me if I sleep too late." She let out another great yawn and pressed herself ever closer to her new lover. Kami, how long had she been without such loving contact?
She suddenly thought of those back home: her mother and father, Goku, Chi-Chi, Krillin, even Yamcha. She wondered what they were all doing right then, if they missed her, if they wondered where she was or if she was alright. Did Yamcha miss her? Did he care that she was gone? Or was he out bar hopping and screwing every pair of long legs he could get his hands on? She thought that sounded about right, and didn't care an ounce if that's in fact what he was and had been doing. She rather liked the idea of him being with another woman, that way her being with Vegeta wouldn't cause too much of an uproar, for him anyway. Goku would be elated and swear that he knew they were meant to be together, as would her mother. Her father and Chi-Chi would be skeptical about her relationship with the mad Saiyan Prince. And Krillin, well, he would be indifferent, though probably still terrified of his royal highness. How could she conceivably explain all that had taken place? We somehow fell in love? No, that would never pass. Vegeta was too hard, and she would never be believed as having such strong feelings for the Prince. A fling? No, she didn't feel comfortable with that. What about—
"It doesn't matter what they think," Vegeta said into her forehead, unable to keep from listening to her random thoughts. Tomorrow he would teach her to use her new power. "You know that. If they can't accept it, then it's their problem. We have no obligation to explain a thing to them. Simpletons."
"What will we be like when we're back on Earth?" She suddenly found herself not so tired, but eager to hear his answer. Would he all of a sudden become distant and cold, as the others always have seen him? She dared not voice her fears; the question was harsh enough.
"Woman," he sighed. He pulled his head back. "You forget so quickly. I can hear your thoughts, I know what you're thinking, and I can almost feel your doubts." He furrowed his brow slightly. Yes, the thoughts had pained him. Did she really think him that barbaric? "I am your mate and protector, father to your child. We. Are. In-sep-ar-a-ble."
"But you're—"
"My 'attitude', as you would call it, has no meaning in the long run. If I feel like sweeping you up and out of the room in front of all your ridiculous friends, then I will. If I want to hold you around the waist and kiss your neck, then I will. If I want to tear off your clothes—"
"Don't go that far, Vegeta," she laughed. "Save that for when we're alone." She yawned deeply, her tiredness returning to her at his calming words. He was right; it didn't matter. She had her Vegeta and she didn't care one bit what those at home would think. She was finally completely happy for the first time in her life.
She was asleep in minutes, unaware of the watchful Saiyan eyes upon her and the worry that they held. Of course SHE knew that it didn't matter, she'd never really cared what others thought, but did he?
He sighed deeply and pulled her closer.
I suppose I'll find out when we return.
***********************************************************
Bulma sat scrunched in the tiny compartment in the ship's floor that had started this whole adventure, her mind scrambling to access the situation. How had she gotten there? Why was the overhead door locked? Where was her mate, Vegeta? her sworn protector. Did he know where she was? Would he come to her rescue like so many times before?
She felt around her head for wounds. No, she hadn't fallen in like before. So what was going on?
Above, Vegeta stood in the control room, the door shut, his patience growing thin. It had been fifteen long minutes since he'd carefully placed the sleeping Bulma in the ship's storage compartment. Afterward he'd made sure to slam the door and stomp loudly into the control room to wake her.
In her state of shock, she only thought of where he was and how she would get out. Their special bond had completely fled her mind. He rolled his eyes as he listened to her frantic, yet reasonable, thoughts.
"Come on woman," he groaned. "Call out to me."
He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned into the control panel, determined to keep his promise to himself and teach her to communicate with him through their bonded minds. Sure there were easier ways of doing it, though they would take much too long. If she learned it as a survival tactic, she'd never forget it.
She's rational, he told himself. Sooner or later she'll figure it out. Kami, let it be sooner; this is a waste of valuable time.
Below, Bulma pulled her legs up under herself and crouched in the cramped basement cabin. She wasn't going to give up and waste away down there.
She hurled herself upwards into the overhead hatch. The door only rattled back into place when she crouched back down, the lock unaffected.
"Think, Bulma, think," she commanded her brain. "You're a genius for Kami's sake. You know there's a logical explanation for this, and a way out." She looked around, her eyes well adjusted to the darkness by now. Only crates of food, repair equipment, fuel tanks at the far end, and a box full of tins containing dino caps. She made a mental note to grab that box when she got out. "Ok, someone put you here. Someone locked the door. Someone—" And then it suddenly hit her like a raging dinosaur. "But how?" she mumbled to herself, the answer as clear as day. "Do I just think what I want to say?" She pursed her lips together and concentrated; it was worth a shot.
Vegeta looked lazily around the control room, knowing everyone button and switch on the circuit boards, the information programmed into his mind. Everyone piece of metal and wire had been approved by him, and most of the ship he had witnessed being built.
"Stop thinking about my handiwork and get me out of here," came the unmistakenable voice of Bulma, though something was different. He smiled. She'd finally figured it out.
"Well woman," he answered mentally. "I was beginning to think you'd never realize the obvious truth." He paused, then added, "Are you angry with me?"
"Pissed," she replied, her inner voice calm.
"I'm impressed. Not only did you figure it out and communicate to me, you were able to pick up my unguarded thoughts. I'll have to teach you to unlock my mind later, though you'll only be able to do it if I don't put up a fight."
"Shut up and open the damn door," she hissed aloud, knowing full well that he was now standing over the hatch. He obliged and flicked the latch. "That was not funny, mister," she snapped once the door was open. She handed him the box of dino cap tins and climbed out, ignoring his outstretched hand. Of course she wasn't actually mad at him, but it was a nasty trick he played on her, and she was going to milk him for a moment longer, or as long as she could hold out. "Do you have any idea what it's like to wake up in a place like that? That's the second time that's happened to me. I'm going to have a heart attack before I'm thirty."
Vegeta only looked at her in quiet astonishment. Was she really that angry with him? Had what he done really been so wrong?
"No, Vegeta," she sighed. She set down the box and walked over to him, taking his hands. "I'm not angry. But that was a real mean thing to do. I was really scared for a minute."
"More like fifteen," he huffed, not at all pleased with her joke.
"Oh, come on. You tricked me, I tricked you. Fair's fair. Don't be a poor sport."
He smirked down at her.
"Jerk." But then she let herself smile as well. She let go of his hands and wrapped her arms around his waist, her head resting on his chest. "I can't stop thinking about our child, Vegeta," she said. "I want to know what it'll be, what I'll name him or her. I can't believe I'm going to be a mother."
"No one is as surprised about that as I am," Vegeta said, receiving a playful slap on the back.
"Shut up. I'll make a great mother."
"You're a big child, woman."
"All the more reason for me to believe I'll be an excellent mother. I'll understand our child better with a so-called child's mind…..Do you think about our child?"
He didn't answer right away, and then said, "Yes, very much. It should be male."
"Can't you sense what it is?" She leaned her head back some to look at his face. "I mean, you knew I was pregnant before I told you. You sensed that."
"True," he said. "But the child's sex hasn't been determined yet. It's still quite young. When I know, you'll know."
Their eyes suddenly locked and Vegeta leaned in to capture his mate's lips, relishing in the fact that she was his forever and this simple gesture could be done without restraint until the end of their days. She was cured and would live on with him on Earth, where they'd raise their child and be a—family? He cringed inwardly at the thought as he was trained to do, though something in the back of his mind told him a family was a pleasant thing, and that he'd enjoy having one, especially with Bulma.
She looked into his eyes imploringly when their lips finally separated, as if she'd heard his thoughts, though he knew that was impossible, for ever since his little game he'd been veiling them expertly. She was about to open her mouth and say what was on the tip of her tongue, when there came a loud banging at the ship's entrance, followed by frantic yelling.
"Bulma! Vegeta! The most terrible thing has happened! You must come! Now!" It was Senju's hysterical voice that traveled to the lovers' ears. Vegeta quickly went to the door and let Senju, and Golana, into the ship, their eyes swollen from recent crying.
"What's happened?" Vegeta demanded. He glanced back at Bulma, who hadn't moved from her spot. She was most likely expecting the worst to come from Senju's mouth. And, unfortunately, it did.
"It's that evil queen," Senju moaned. "She's come for Jemalin. Furto and the others are trying to fight her and her cohorts off, but they are too strong. We—"
"We need you Vegeta!" Golana cried suddenly, lunging herself forward and into his arms. He patted her head awkwardly, unsure of how to comfort his once good friend. She looked up at him, tears crashing onto her cheeks. She was in utter despair for her friend Furto and his beautiful mate. "You are the only one who can help them! Please, stop that wretched queen before it's too late!"
"Woman," Vegeta said sternly, nearly startling her into a fit. "I'm going ahead of you all. I can get there the fastest." He turned back to Golana, still clutching him hysterically. "You and Senju bring Bulma in behind me, but protect her Kami damn it!" Bulma wondered for a split second why he was even allowing her to come, though knew the answer before she barely thought of the question; he knew she would want to come, beg even, and hold him up. She would want to see Furto and Jemalin for the last time if such a fate befell them. He was wise to give his orders and include her. Before she knew it, he was gone and she was in Senju's arms and in the air, Golana coasting beside them.
She didn't say a word.
*******************************************************
Bulma let out a blood-curdling scream upon entering Furto's home.
Queen Ezador stood in the foyer of the home, her cohorts behind her, and Furto's struggling body in her grasp, a jagged knife to his throat. He was kicking out frenetically, his breathing labored, his eyes sharp and quick. There was no way he would give up without a fight and lose the love of his life, again, who was held by three of the queen's men, one being the Prince of Doon, Eltamar, and the others nameless cronies. She put up just as much of a fight as her mate, biting and snarling at the hands that bound her.
"When I break free," Jemalin hissed, "I'll tear you limb from limb, mother!" Never had Bulma heard someone threaten their own mother, though in this case, she fully understood. Ezador was an evil being, deserving of anything Jemalin would do to her.
"You won't get close enough to touch me, pretty girl," the queen snapped, tightening her hold on Furto. "And you! You kick me one more time and I'll sever your ugly gray head!"
"You know, your majesty, it's not very honorable to treat the father of your future grandchild in such a way," Vegeta said, starring directly into Ezador's eyes. It was clear that he hadn't made a move to stop any of the Doonso. He was biding his time, waiting for the right moment. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill you."
"You won't touch me," she seethed, taking a step back. She knew his power. Eltamar chuckled at his mother's fear, always holding a special malicious place for her in his blackened heart. "Shut up ingrate," she said to him. He only laughed harder.
"Mother," he sighed, letting go of his sister and stepping up beside her. Immediately another Doonso took his place. "You're being absolutely ridiculous about this whole ordeal. Why not simply crown myself as the King and I shall find a suitable mate for the Queen? You strain yourself much too hard on the subject of heirs. I can be your heir."
"You," she retorted, "are nothing more than a whining, useless sack of flesh! You disgrace the Doonso Royal Family with every breath you take! I despise you."
Before Bulma knew what was happening, Ezador was slammed against the nearest wall, Furto had stumbled forward and out of her grasp, and Eltamar was clutching her dagger, pressing it to his mother's neck. The tables had turned, Bulma thought, but was it now in their favor?
Vegeta tensed at Bulma's side, his brow narrowing as he watched in silence the display before them. A Queen, her son and daughter, her daughter's mate, and a half a dozen Doonso soldiers. What an unlikely situation. He hadn't expected they'd find them so soon. Or maybe he was just too caught up in his dealings with Bulma that he'd completely let thoughts of an impeding attack slip his mind. He was suddenly ashamed for being so neglectful.
"It's not your fault," Bulma said mentally, grabbing his hand. He was thankful for her comfort, much to his surprise.
"You look frightened, mother," came Eltamar's harsh voice, catching Bulma's attention. She glanced at him, then to Furto, who was now held captive by the remaining soldiers. "Have I actually caused you fear?" She didn't answer, only glared at her hateful son. "I hope so." He pushed the knife ever closer to breaking the skin.
"Let me go!" Jemalin yelped, kicking one of her captors in the shine. "I'll tear you all to pieces!"
"One of these days, Princess," Eltamar said, shooting his sister a quick glare, "I'm going to become fed up with you, and I might just dispose of you like I plan to mother." He turned back to the queen, his demeanor changing quite suddenly. "Turn away from this brutality, my beautiful Bulma," he said, not turning to look at her. "And you, mother, you look into my eyes when I cut you open. This is my vengeance, and you will know it fully." He laughed cruelly, pressing the knife harder so as to draw a trickle of blood. Any further and she'd be done for. Bulma prayed that he'd go further. "Aren't you just kicking yourself now for bringing me along? 'You're coming, ingrate.' Lot of good that did you, mother." Without another moment's hesitation, he cut the dagger deep into his mother's throat and yanked it viciously to the side. Bulma didn't flinch or turn away, but rather watched intently, somewhat enjoying the sight before her. She'd never seen someone die in such a fashion before. She found that she liked it, startling herself. But anyone that cruel deserved to die a hateful death.
The next few minutes flew by in the blink of an eye. After Eltamar had dropped his mother's limp body and her dagger to the floor, Vegeta took it upon himself to dispose of the six Doonso soldiers, snapping their necks and blasting them pointblank in the guts with ki blasts. He didn't exactly know what to do when his eyes fell on Eltamar, so he stopped in his tracks and starred at him. Finally the Doonso Prince spoke.
"I've come to retrieve my Bulma. She'll accompany me back to Doon and reign as queen." He crossed his arms over his puffed-up chest. "I will not have it any other way."
"Ever happy to disappoint an unworthy scum like you," Vegeta stated, a smirk pulling at his lips, "the woman will not go willingly. She is my mate, by choice."
"Who said anything about going willingly? And thank you, Saiyan, but I was fully aware of your disgusting little bond." He spit at Vegeta's boots, curling his nose up in hatred. "She will be mine, I can assure you of that."
"Not if you're dead," Jemalin whispered, seconds before she rammed his abandoned dagger into his back, tearing through him and out his chest. He fell to his knees, clawing at the wound with one hand, and Bulma with the other. She stepped back when his fingertips touched her bare feet.
Jemalin—without the slightest bit of mercy, of which her brother deserved none—grabbed him up by his collar and forced his eyes to meet hers.
"I am the true heir to Doon," she said, smiling cruelly. Bulma was almost frightened by her manner. "I am the heir, and I don't want the damn crown. All your life you're craved nothing more than to sit up on those ugly thrones, trying and failing miserably at getting on mother's good side. I have in my hands the one thing you never could, and I'm throwing it away. I thought you should know that before I finished you off." He let out a small gasp, just before Jemalin lifted his limp body with both hands and threw him onto his back, driving the knife ever deeper, and sending her pitiless brother to his grave.
She didn't bat an eyelash when she stood and said, "Vegeta, will you assist me in disposing of our mess?"
He nodded respectfully at the Princess and reluctantly left Bulma's side. She didn't protest or ask to join them, and neither did Furto. It was a royalty thing; they all understood that.
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"I still cannot believe what just happened," Bulma sighed, her breathing back to normal after having nearly hyperventilated in after-shock. She had wrapped herself up in a warm blanket provided by Senju, and sat with him, Furto, and Golana; the others of the home expressed their grief that such a thing had taken place, then left the four to themselves. "I just watched eight beings lose their lives."
"I know," Furto sighed, hanging his head. "My Jemalin killed her own flesh and blood. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about that…"
"I'd say I'm shocked too at Vegeta, but he's a known murderer. I only wish he hadn't been so brutal in front of me. It's chilling. That man will father my child for Kami's sake."
Senju laughed despite the situation.
"What?"
"Vegeta's your mate and he let you witness his brutality, while Eltamar advised you to cover your eyes. It's ironic, is all." He looked at the floor, ashamed for his outburst. "Sorry."
"It's fine. I know what you mean. And now…now he's dead. It's strange. I never thought I'd see those beings again, and they just died before my eyes. What will become of the Kingdom now? No queen and no heir. I can't imagine they'd be stable enough to continue with that particular bloodline."
"I agree," said Furto, his voice stronger now, accepting little by little that his mate had recently murdered a man. "They must have precautions."
"And we do," came Jemalin's silky voice, all rage completely gone from it. They all turned to face her, and the Prince that stood at her side. They were both covered in a layer of white dust, sand sticking to their clothes in some places, and blood…..everywhere, especially coating their hands and deep in their fingernails. Jemalin's face was illuminated with a smile, despite her appearance and everything that had happened, and Vegeta was his usual scowling self. No one knew what to make of the blood that decorated their clothes, hands, and faces and definitely had not been there before, though no one ventured to ask. Besides, it didn't matter how the foul Doonso were disposed of, just as long as they were gone. Bulma had an unpleasant flash of Vegeta and Jemalin hacking the eight bodies into pieces with meat cleavers, blood splattering in all directions. She tried to veil her thoughts, though realized she didn't know how and only sighed.
"What kind of precautions?" Golana finally asked, breaking the intense silence. Bulma expected Vegeta to come sit by her, as did Furto with Jemalin, though they both stood still in the doorway of the central room, their secrets untouchable. Something ghastly had occurred when they took those bodies outside.
"My father has an unmated sister. In the event of my mother's death, or mine, Uldox would take over as Queen. Simple," Jemalin said, then turned to Furto and smiled. "King Gregor, my father…I would like to bring him along with us when we leave this planet." She stopped there, though there was still much she wanted to say. She loved her father deeply, that much was clear, and he was a kind and gentle man. Furto respected him with the highest honor.
"I think that's a wonderful idea, my love," Furto said, wanting desperately for her to come and sit with him. But it was her decision, and obviously neither she, nor the Prince, wished to have close contact with their mates that this time. "But with your mother gone and you free of being heiress, what need is there for us to flee?"
Jemalin smiled genuinely at her mate. She hadn't considered that.
"You're absolutely right," she said. "My father can come and live with us here. His sister is nothing like my mother, she despises her, and Geranoma. The Elpin will, of course, be moved to another, more practical, planet." She turned to face Vegeta suddenly and smiled, and, to everyone's complete surprise, he smiled weakly back at her. "Thank you so much for making this possible," she said to him, then turned to Bulma. "And you too. Without you two coming into our lives none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have my Furto, my mother would still rule…Thank you."
For a long moment Vegeta didn't speak, let alone respond, and then he said, quite gently, "A Prince's duty," and turned to leave. Bulma almost called out to him, but stopped herself at the last minute, just as he faded out of view. Jemalin followed the Prince's lead, though turned in the direction of her and Furto's room, rather than the entrance, where Vegeta was surely going.
Bulma sighed deeply and pulled her blanket ever closer to herself and closed her eyes. She wanted so badly to know what was troubling her Prince, so badly to comfort him and lavish him with hugs and kisses and promises that everything would be alright, but she didn't know what was bothering him. She turned to Furto for answers.
"What happened out there?" she whispered, subconsciously pulling her legs in closer to her body. Furto sighed and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. He had none of the answer she was looking for.
"I don't know, Miss," he said. "I don't suggest we breech the subject with them. They'll tell us when they're ready."
"Do you mind if I stay the night here? I don't suppose Vegeta wants company right now." But she couldn't have been more wrong.
"Of course you can. I'll be in Vegeta's quarters then if you need me." He stood and walked out of the room, his head heavy with worry.
"Try not to let it bother you," Senju offered. He kissed her forehead, then followed suit with Furto.
"He's right," Golana said. She stood and held her hand to Bulma, who accepted it without question, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet. "Give the Prince some time. Something isn't right in the air, and the dust needs to settle before answers can be found." Bulma found her words oddly comforting, and leaned into her new friend's embrace as she escorted her to her guestroom. "Good night Bulma. Sleep well."
"Good night," Bulma yawned, then added, "And thanks, for everything. I'm really going to miss you when we leave."
"And I you."
Without another word or gesture Golana disappeared into the shadows, leaving Bulma alone in her doorway, feeling confused at best.
She sighed deeply, her heart full of dread, and entered her room. Perhaps tomorrow she would find her answers.
"Yes," she said bitterly to herself. "And perhaps tomorrow Vegeta will give me a dozen long-stemmed roses and serenade me in Spanish."
Her precious little world seemed to crumble out from under her as she crawled into bed. Tomorrow she would find out, though something in the back of her mind told her that tomorrow could very well mean the end of everything she held dear.
She closed her eyes and forced sleep.
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---Chapter 31!! Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Another chapter baby! Wow, I'm really impressing myself lately with my writing, heehee. Before I was just like: "Ok, this is good, but I can do better." Now I feel that these past few chapters couldn't be better and I wouldn't change a thing. And I'm completely modest, lol. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and yeah, I did throw in some extra turmoil, 'cause for some reason I can't do without it for very long. I liked it though, now Furto and Jemalin can live without worry.
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)
Next time: Bulma feels as though she's back to square one with her Prince; the secrets, the distance, the masking of emotions. She refuses to confront him however, and must instead wait for him to reveal his worries to her. But what she finds out may be a little too much for her to handle…Find out next time! :P
Note: Sorry the chapter took so long, but I don't know what's up with my beta-reader :( Hopefully she'll get in touch with me soon (this chapter is unchecked my her eyes).