A/N: Thank you for all the lovely reviews, especially those that chose to write more than 'write more soon' ^.^ See chapter one for disclaimer.
Last Time: Trunks finally leaves the castle to try and break his curse, his lunch gets eaten by rodents (poor prince), Pan gets some insults on him at the Baker's, he discovers that she is the one who can see him (bet that was a shocker [sarcasm]) when he tries to lamely trip her, but could not. Things just aren't going his way.
"Lifeless Queen"
It was her! The overwhelming comfort that he possessed in just knowing who could see him was tremendous. It was only the first day of his journey, and he had discovered the key to breaking his curse. It was perfect. Of course it was his bad luck that it happened to be her, since she didn't really think that highly of him... it might be difficult to persuade her to return to the castle with him.
With a grin, Trunks completely forgot about his hunger and dashed out of the bakery in pursuit of Pan's retreating figure. The large baker glanced up from his bread, as the thud of the door rang through, yet no one had entered his shop.
"Strange wind," he muttered, before completely shrugging it off his mind. Trunks stood on the doorstep looking frantically around. Where was she? His eyes darted all around the crowded market streets, but he couldn't find her. He searched for the raven hair, but none were even near the dark pitch hers possessed. She simply wasn't there. Perhaps she had gone into another store? It was possible, but unlikely. She had probably purchased that bread for the walk home - wherever that was. Trunks stamped his foot in aggravation. Why couldn't he remember? It was in the corner of his mind, but he couldn't recall the location of the Son farm.
He knew the Son farm was a huge asset to the country. It was common knowledge in the castle, and Vegeta had taken an immediate interest. The Son farm produced so many goods, it was almost unimaginable for a single farm. They were completely loyal to the crown, that Trunks knew, dispite the young Son girl's rebellious attitude towards himself. However, this working plantation had a bad side. The owner was too lenient. He would sell to the poorer folk for lower prices, excepting the promises that they would be paid back. Sometimes they would exchange goods for work, or even give away sometimes to the extreme poor. This caused major profit decreases in what they could produce. Vegeta thought if he seized control over the farm, he could keep the prices at par, increasing the value of the farm and helping his kingdom at the same time.
Trunks knew all of this. He had attended many diplomatic councils, and knew most of what went on throughout the country, but he couldn't pull from his mind the location of the Son farm. Since he didn't know where it was, Pan was no where in sight, and no one else could see him, what was he supposed to do? He was stuck. Stalemate. No looking back now. He had to think up a plan and he needed it quick.
*
Trunks casually walked down the dusted streets of the town. He didn't know the town's name, and that fact didn't bother him. Neither did the fact that his stomach was empty and he had no food. All that mattered was breaking the curse. And the hard part was already done. He had found the person who could see him. Now he simply needed to find where she had run off to.
With a pained scoff, Trunks glanced down at his boot. They were princes' boots. They weren't built for long-distance walking, and they were wearing thin. They were designed for show, not for work. His toe was throbbing from various stones he had kicked or stubbed upon. With a sigh, he decided he needed a break. He sat down on a pile of straw beside a woman's booth that was selling woven fabrics. With careful, memorized movements, he unlaced his boots and gently removed his aching foot from the leather.
No wonder. The pain wasn't his imagination at all. His toe had a nasty cut, perhaps a blister that had grown and then unknowingly broken, and blood was slowly dripping down his foot. It wasn't a major cut, but it was enough to bring attention to his nerves. Although he didn't have any food, he did have water. Trunks reached to his side and lifted the canteen that held his water supply. Sewn together with sheep's hide, it had a special insulation within it to keep the water cold, and as he dripped some onto his injured foot, it not only washed away the drying blood, but also offered relief to the sore muscles.
Trunks closed up his water canteen, and decided to take a rest. Walking around aimlessly wouldn't get him anywhere. He needed a place to go - he needed an idea of what direction to walk to. So, for now, he would just have to wait until an opportunity presented itself. He watched the people work around in their little market street, he had never seen the common people at work before. It was like a well thought out dance. They all worked in harmony, each knowing their role. Bargaining, offering, selling, buying... they all did it in time with everyone else. As if an understanding existed between them all. It was if they didn't mind being poor, as if their simple lives were satisfying. What was he missing? Was it all some large conspiracy? There must be something else to it - there was no way they could exist as they did and be happy.
Trunks turned his attention as he saw two small boys running down the street, yelling in delight, a small doll tucked in one grasp, and a younger girl chasing after him. He had to hold in a chuckle as he saw the pudgy little girl, her skirts hiked up to her knees chasing after the boys to retrieve her stolen doll. He watched as the man running a cart of potatoes, grabbed one of the boys by the back of his shirt, and pried the doll from his fingers, causing the boys to give up and scamper off. The man waited until the little girl caught up, before he handed her the doll. She smiled warmly and hugged the toy tightly to her chest. The man let out a chuckle, reached beside him to a neighboring cart where he lifted a small flower, which he presented to the little girl. Trunks watched as the little girl smiled and blushed, then dashed away telling anyone that was in range that she had gotten a flower. Turning back to the potato man, he was chuckling, and the woman who owned the flower cart was grinning.
He had not paid for the flower, yet the woman seemed to not mind. They didn't act as if they were friends. How could it be? He watched the little girl skip along the streets, and for the first time, Trunks noticed something. The friendly smiles on everyone's faces, the neighborly gestures... it was like he was finally let into their secret.
Unlike in his world, they were genuinely happy. At the castle, they interacted with respect and dignity. Nothing more. Here, it was all real. No forced smiles. Nothing was staged. It was all natural. It gave off a calming aura, yet it was foreign to him. It made him resentful. How could these mere commoners have such a great gift, yet he was unable to have it with all his money and power? It was a cruel joke.
When a young lady walked up to the weaving booth beside him, Trunks was zapped out of his thoughts. She gazed carefully over the selection before asking anything.
"How much for your satin-green?" she asked.
"Twenty," the owner grunted. She hadn't even looked up, Trunks noticed with amazement. The owner's back was turned, and she was working on weaving a new article of cloth. The shopper, turned to another.
"And the red shawl?"
"Fifteen," she snorted back. Her voice could use some improvements, Trunks thought in disgust, the un-lady-like fashion that she talked in was making him cringe, yet this woman could help him. She sprouted information without looking at the speaker. He just might be able to get somewhere with her.
The buyer shifted through some more clothing while Trunks waited patiently. After a few more articles, she found the one she desired, paid, and left. Now was his chance. He slid his sore foot back into his worn boot, and stood up to the front.
"Could you direct me towards the Son Farm?" he asked. It was strange to talk like that. He had never really asked for anything in his life before. He wanted it, he got it. What if she didn't know? He would be back at stalemate. He needed to find Pan.
"Past the Western Hills," she snorted out. Perfect.
"Indeed," Trunks cheered, before dashing off. He was on his way. He had a destination to go to now. He would be visible by tomorrow! With a lighter conscious, he set out towards the Western Hills, thankful that he knew where those were.
*
"Pan, I told you it was a pointless battle," Gohan said with a sigh. He hadn't expected much to come from it at all. The King wasn't one to change his mind. His daughter merely kept her scowl - she hated being controlled. He sighed in sympathy. "Its all right Pan. We've always been kind to this town... we'll start a new farm or something. Don't make that face. I told you before you left that king Vegeta wouldn't change his mind."
"I didn't see the King. I saw his pig-headed son!" Pan shrieked in annoyance. Gohan sighed. He was glad to have his daughter home. The castle was a good days walk away, and he missed her spunky attitude while she was gone. Her personality really livened up the farm, and she was a favourite among the farm boys. He had learned to keep her doing inside chores, because if she made it near the boys, they wouldn't work at par. It was no shock that Pan was an eye-turner on the farm, she was rather beautiful. Her midnight eyes and hair cast a mysterious look, causing every man to want to know their secrets. But he didn't want Pan to marry one of them. He wanted more for her.
"The prince you say? And he wasn't reasoned with?" Gohan asked. That was a disappointment. It made another stubborn king in the making.
"Yeah the prince," Pan said, disgust evident.
"You didn't enjoy seeing him? I heard he was quite handsome."
"Oh he's handsome... if you like cocky attitudes and stuck up noses." Pan placed her hands on her hips and stuck her nose in the air. "I am the prince, blah blah blah," she mocked, which Gohan met with a chuckle at his daughter. In a couple of years she would be past twenty, yet she still acted like a child at times.
"Panny, it's almost dinner time. Your mother would have a fit if she saw you as you are. Why don't you go wash?" he suggested. Pan took a glance over her body. The dirt from the road had trailed up covering most of her legs in light dust, and her face was rather grungy. She nodded in agreement to his suggestion, and turned to leave. Since it was still light out, she would take advantage of that and swim in the lake. It would mean walking back a bit the way she came, but it would be worth it, she could already feel the cold waters washing away not only the dirt, but her stress and worries too.
*
It was infuriating. She had absolutely no right to do this to him. He was a king, and she was merely... the queen. Ugh, it didn't even make sense. Vegeta snarled in his chair, the treaties and other sorts of work in front of him weren't spared any of his attention. He had more pressing matters to worry about. Not only was his wife completely ignoring him, but his son had disappeared as well. No one had seen him since last night, and it was only adding to his nerves.
Her words from last night rang out in his mind.
"You said you don't need love, so there's no point in me wasting mine." Is what she had said. Bulma was a mind-boggler. All women were a task to figure out, but Bulma was worse. She was impossible! He had been with her for over twenty years, and in those two decades he knew as much about her as he did the day he set eyes upon her.
That day was still sharp in his memories. He had been an arrogant foolish prince... not much had changed since then in that aspect. His mother had been the one to present Bulma as his bride. Even then something had caught his interest. Later on he found out Bulma was picked due to the similarities in her personality with his own. They both had tempers, were as stubborn as anything, yet passionate all the same. At that moment he didn't know any of that though. All he knew was the beauty of the woman that stood before him. Her beauty hadn't decreased at all since then, it might have changed in some ways, but she still looked as gorgeous as then. Her unique cerulean eyes and hair certainly caught a lot of attention from all of the males. It was almost as if she had stepped out of an old fairy-tale book.
But she was no fairy-tale princess. She was loud and obnoxious. She always wanted her own way. But this time... this time she gave him what he wanted. She would be his queen, not his wife. And there was a difference. He hadn't retired to his chambers for the night yet. He... yes, why not admit it? He was afraid to go back. They would be empty. Bulma wasn't there. Love kept her with him, and he had forcefully shoved it away. But love was for the weak. She was weak. He would be strong.
He wasn't going to his room because Bulma wasn't there, he told himself mentally. He wasn't going there because he wasn't tired. ...No, he was enraged. That was better. At his foolish son's disappearance. Where did that boy run off to? He had spoken to him just before going to bed last night. His bed looked slept in this morning, but no one had seen him all day. The castle was huge, hence filled with many, many people. It was impossible to go the entire day without anyone seeing him. It couldn't happen. Even if Trunks had tried to keep himself hidden, he would have been spotted by at least someone. Yet the entire castle reported that they had not seen him at all. It was almost as mind-irritating as Bulma.
Bulma. Now that he thought of it, he was rather tired. With a nod, Vegeta pushed his chair out and exited his lounge. It was time to go to bed. Tomorrow, he would make her return to their room. He could think of a reason why by then. It was bad for the king and queen to be separated - might give out rumors to nosy page boys. Yes, that was it - an excellent excuse. It wasn't that he couldn't stand to be without her... it would be nice to escape her endless nagging, yet he might miss... she needed protection. If she were harmed it would look terrible on his part. Yes, for the honour and safety of the kingdom, she had to stay with him.
Smirking at his own genius, Vegeta walked into his room, only to be taken back by what was there. His bed was being occupied. On closer inspection, Vegeta spotted aqua locks peaking out from under the covers. Deepening his smirk, Vegeta stood by the bed, and curled his fingers around the blankets. With a quick movement of his hands, he pulled all of the bedspreads right off of the bed. Bulma curled her body unconsciously from the lack of warmth, and this discomfort brought her out of dream world. She groggily sat up and her clear eyes searched for the source of her awakening. Her eyes landed on Vegeta.
His smirk remained as he waited for it. The onslaught of curses that would spill from her mouth. The flaring of hands as she tried to slap some sense into him. It was fruitless, yet she continued to do it time after time. He waited for her eyes to flame up with anger, he waited for her to grab the covers back. However, Vegeta was waiting in vain. None of these came. She merely looked at him sadly, and slowly sneaked towards him and brought her arm out to take the blankets back.
"Uh uh," he said tauntingly, bringing the covers out of her reach. She looked at him once more with those eyes. Somehow she had gotten them to be lifeless, and they sent chills up his spine. She slipped off the matress, and walked over to the chest at the end of the bed. With an effort due to her tired muscles, she dragged a quilt out of the chest, and curled up with it on the bed again, not giving Vegeta another glance.
"What are you doing? What point are you trying to make?!" he yelled angrily. Her attitude was enraging him. He could make comebacks when she yelled and screamed, but he couldn't do a thing when she wouldn't even acknowledge him. With fury, he reached over, and pulled her body over so she was facing him. He grabbed her chin, and shook her lightly to get her to look at him. This was a mistake on his part, for she only gazed at him with those same lifeless eyes. He knew it was all an act. She wanted to prove that if he didn't love her, she wouldn't love him. But she didn't have to make it so convincing!
"I demand to know what you are doing!" he snarled, his face only inches away from her own.
"I'm trying to sleep," she spoke, almost as lifeless as her eyes. She was a good actress, he would give her that.
"I thought you were going to leave," he said mockingly, climbing into bed himself after letting go of her chin. He could feel her shrug beside him.
"If the people knew the king and queen were separated, they might think the king wasn't strong enough to even keep his wife, let alone a kingdom. It keeps the rumors down this way," she explained quietly. Bulma was too smart. She had been able to tune into his exact thoughts on the subject. It seemed it was always like that. She knew what he wanted, and she knew when to pry, or when to leave him alone. She knew a lot about himself, perhaps more than he did.
"Humph," he muttered, laying down on the bed. He resisted the urge to hug her. He always slept with her in his arms, it was his way of protecting something. He needed to protect someone, and she was the most important thing to protect. Vegeta rolled away from her in disgust. He was just a walking contradiction. One minute he was thinking how he didn't need her at all, and the next he couldn't think how he would live without her.
"Trunks is gone, isn't he?" Bulma asked softly from her side.
"Yeah," Vegeta returned.
"He'll be back..." she mumbled, once again returning to sleep. Vegeta abandoned his plans of keeping his distance and rolled over to face his wife.
"How do you know? Did he tell you where he was going?" Vegeta asked, both surprised and curious.
"Not really. But he talked to me."
"Well? Woman, what did he say?"
"He said, 'Don't worry mother. It will be all right and I promise I'll be back.'... or something like that."
"When was that?" Vegeta questioned again.
"This morning." So he had been about today after all. He was beginning to think his son was a ghost.
"So you saw him? Why in heavens didn't you tell me that when the entire castle has been asked if they've seen him. Woman, use some sense!" Bulma rolled her own body over so she was facing Vegeta, so they could look eye to eye.
"Because I didn't see him, I merely heard him," she said, angrily. With a sigh, she turned back over and nestled into the covers, seeking some sort of comfort and warmth, for she would be receiving neither from the man next to her. He grunted and decided to let the conversation come to an end. So she didn't actually see the boy. Maybe he was a ghost. Maybe he had gone suicidal... his bride wasn't that bad. The thought of Trunks taking his own life, on the single account of who his bride was, caused him to want to laugh, but something else popped into his head before the chuckle could form. Vegeta liked having the last say in things, and as it stood, Bulma was in the lead. He would have to fix that.
"You were talking to me... I thought you were going to ignore me, and hate me, and deny your obsession with me," Vegeta mocked, amusement evident in his voice.
"Because I love Trunks and I was informing you about him. And I have no obsession with you. Obsession and love are two different things. One is a phase while the other is permanent," Bulma said quietly. And for the first time, Vegeta pegged the tone of her voice. It was lifeless, yes, but it was because she was denying to express her most prominent feeling. She was hiding her love for him.
And for the first time, Vegeta was the one that felt weak.
*
Trunks moaned and collapsed on a rock to rest for the umpteenth time. If this journey was meant to tell him anything, it told him he was not good at long distance walking. But it wasn't just his muscles that were slowing him down. The sun had already set and he would stumble along tree roots and such. It was beginning to be a pain to walk just for sheer inconvenience. Trunks needed a spot to sleep for the night, and he wasn't too keen on the idea of sleeping on the forest ground. After all, that chipmunk had been able to see him, Trunks remembered, thinking back to the rodent that had stolen his food that morning. The trees were becoming less and less compact, which meant the forest was thinning out. He could walk for a bit more until he escaped the woods, and hopefully a house would be in sight which he could lodge for the night.
Trunks sighed. How did he get himself into this mess? What had he ever done? There was really no point in being bitter about it. If this had happened to his father, Vegeta would have roared and fumed about it for days before setting out to relieve himself of the curse. His mother would probably cry in self pity for a while before she too ventured out. But it was pointless. Trunks had time to do both on the road. He cursed, and yelled, and cried on his journey. He didn't want to waste any valuable time. He couldn't do much of anything though. He was stuck with this curse, and all the roaring or weeping wouldn't change a thing. Yet it was what his instincts wanted him to do. It was one of those times, where you just wanted to curl up and... well, die. Escape the situation that was making you feel so awful. It was taking all of Trunks' will power to shove the mess he was in out of his mind, and just focus on finding the girl. But his will could only hold out for so long.
Trunks looked down at his feet and noticed that they hurt less than when he had left the rock. Squinting his eyes tightly, he could see the ground flattening out, so less tree branches, rocks, and sticks were on the ground, giving him a smoother path to walk on. This also meant the end of the forest was at hand. Taking his eyes off of his feet, he looked ahead, and sure enough, the trees ended, revealing the world outside the forest. He moved into a jog-like motion, all too eager to escape the forest, for it was getting dark and rather creepy, and he desperately wanted to find some shelter for the evening. When he came to the boarder between field and forest, he stopped and let his eyes scan the surroundings for any sign of buildings or suitable structures he could lounge in.
"What luck!" Trunks cried, his eyes catching on a tall building only a good five minute walk away. It looked to be a barn of some sort, probably filled with animals. But it was night time, they wouldn't see him, and the owners certainly wouldn't. With a spark of determination, Trunks let his feet use all of their energy that had been in reserves and dashed towards the building.
When he got there, he realized there were no animals inside, which worked to his advantage. He wasn't looking foreword to sharing his bed with a cow, or a sheep, and this also meant he could sleep in late without worrying of some horse getting excited and scared over a strange human. The barn consisted mainly of some hay, oats and large bags he couldn't tell what held. Trunks reasoned that it was probably a storage unit. This also worked to his advantage because the hay would give him decent comfort for the evening. All in all, it was a great find.
Trunks pulled off his shoulder bag, and set it down where his head would rest for use of a pillow. Stretching out his arms, he collapsed onto the hay and sighed with content. His muscles needed this break. Tomorrow, he reasoned, he would find a water resource to refill his canteen, find some food and then restart his journey to the Son farm. He couldn't be that far away from it now. His freedom getting closer and closer in sight, Trunks allowed his mind to drift off, and allowed his consciousness to fall into dreams.
*
"So, Pan. Your father tells me you met the prince," Videl said with a smirk. Pan's mother had a habit of interfering with her daughter's life. Pan inherited much of her beauty from Videl, and her conniving attitude as well. Videl didn't want her daughter to stay single on the home farm forever, she wanted to see her daughter settled down with a man.
"Yes, mother. I saw the prince," Pan said, already getting tired of answering. It seemed everyone on the farm knew about her encounter with the royalty and wanted to know how it went. The elders for the news on the farm, and the young boys for Pan's reaction to the supposed handsome heir to the throne. "And mother, don't even start. There's not point. He is a prince and I am a... stable girl."
"Stable girl?! Ha. Pan, you are one of the richest girls in the farmland. You're just short of being a lady. If you cared, you could easily pass for one." Videl let out a saddened sigh, and Pan joined her with one of her own. It looked like her mother was going to go through her speech again. "Pan, I just don't understand. You have such a chance at being so elegant, yet you insist on getting all covered in dirt by working on the farm. You don't have to. You could help in the kitchen. You're just making trouble for yourself. Those farm boys always talk about you, you know. One of them is bound to ask for your hand..."
"Too late," Pan mumbled.
"What was that?" Videl asked. Pan looked around defensively. She did not want to tell her mother of the proposals she had received. There was two ways Videl would end up talking it. She could scold her and force her to agree to the proposal, or she could detest it and forbid her to work around them again.
"Nothing. I didn't say a thing."
"Yes, well. Honestly, you could have a lord wrapped around your finger. That you could." She sighed in the sigh she always had when she put on a show. Pan knew her mother didn't mean half of what she was saying. From what she had said, Pan concurred that her mother was suggesting it was time Pan look for a husband, and that she could do better than a farm boy. Her mother sometimes just had trouble putting things into simple, kind words.
But Pan didn't understand. Videl married a farm boy... in a way. Her father, Gohan, wasn't as poor as the boys that showed interest in her, actually quite on the contrary. Gohan was in line to inherit one of the largest and profitable farms around. But even so, Videl had lowered her stasis to be with him. She had been a lady at court when she met Gohan. They had married out of love, yet she seemed to be pressuring her to marry for other reasons. Pan was in no rush to get married. She really had no thoughts on the matter. She had never been in love before, perhaps if she were to one day fall into it, she might bring the thought of marriage up, but as for now, it was a foreign idea that she didn't have to deal with, despite her mother's encouragements.
The sun had set long before by the time Gohan walked in, finishing his nightly checks on everything. Pan was just about to pack it up for the night, and was glad her father returned before she went to sleep. Pan walked up to him, and gave him a huge hug.
"Pan," Gohan started, returning the hug, "I'm glad you're still up. Because you were gone, I haven't had the chance to talk to you yet. We have to travel to the North Capital tomorrow."
"Oh, is it that time of the year already?" Pan asked, surprised. Thinking carefully on the time of the harvest, she discovered he was right. Every year they traveled there for business. Pan used to attend with them when she was a child, but she hadn't been there for years now.
"Yes it is. But you might have noticed, that normally we have Goten in charge of the farm while we are gone..." Goten had always watched over the farm, since all of the other Sons traveled to North Capital, and for the past few years, Pan had stayed behind to help him. But now Goten was gone. He had set off on his own a couple of months ago, in the next town over, where he started his own farm with the help of his inherited profits.
"... and since he's gone. That leaves you. Think you're up to it? We'll only be gone a few days," Gohan said, already knowing the answer.
"Just leave everything to me," Pan said with a grin. Gohan grinned back.
"I knew I could count on you."
"Wait! Gohan, you can't... but... Gohan!" Videl stammered, hearing the entire conversation.
"Mom, I'm almost twenty. I can do this," she said. Her mother scowled, and shot Gohan the 'we'll talk' look, that both Gohan and Pan feared. Videl turned and headed towards her own room, missing Pan's giggle and Gohan's gulp. "Night dad," Pan said with a peck on the cheek as she turned to head upstairs to her room.
"Oh, wait Pan." Pan stopped in her tracks, and turned to look at her father. "The door to the north-eastern storage was open. No workers go back there this time of season. Did you...?"
"No dad. I haven't been there in weeks," Pan answered.
"Must have been the wind or something," Gohan said with a shrug. Pan copied his, and they both parted ways for sleep. From her long journey that day, she should have fallen asleep quickly, but for some reason, Pan couldn't shake off what her father had said. Why would that door be open? With another shrug, she concentrated on convincing herself that it was only the wind, but made a note to check it out tomorrow.
---
I'll give you a cookie if you review,
And if you'd like to be informed of any further updates, join the mailing list! [www.geocities.com/angeleevee22/mail]
- Thankies, Angel Eevee