A/N: See chapter one for disclaimer. I spent 90 minutes walking in three feet of snow and a freakish snow squall to buy my Pirates of the Caribbean DVD this morning, and spent the last seven hours watching the DVDs. Now if only Orlando could motivate me to write and not just look at his face, then I would be finished this by now. )

Last Time: Pan and Trunks do a little climbing, a little rafting, a little pie munching, and a little bickering

"King's Orders"

"Come in, your majesty," she called, eyes squinted towards him as water dripped into them. Trunks shook his head firmly.

Pan was neck deep in the clear water, most of her clothes were folded neatly on their wooden boat. She had pulled on a different thin layer of clothing for her water adventures, ones she must have packed ahead of time because she hadn't been wearing them when she decided to go for a swim.

Trunks had gotten used to her spontaneous nature a bit, but it had startled even him when she had jumped up from their comfortable conversation and announced that she was going to go swimming.

And she was treading water now, a bit a ways from the boat, breathing shortly at the energy it took to stay still in one spot.

"You promised you'd come with me," she called again. He shook his head with exaggeration so she would be able to pick up the gesture from her distance. "Yes you did." There was a long pause where they stared at each other, neither willing to give way.

"Then there's no point in me st-" But she never finished her thought. Trunks sat up in alarm as Pan's face contorted, easily seen even from his distance, in surprise and she went under the calm surface of the water Trunks watched the ripples from her submersion slowly circle out and break their circumference. He did not move.

No air bubbles surfaced. Still, he remained.

Pan plunged upwards, by the boat, gasping for breath.

"Coming out?" he asked casually. Pan's fingers grasped hold of the wooden edge and glared at him with as much effectiveness possible when one looked like a drowned rat.

"I almost drowned out there," she said, pointing behind her. "You wouldn't have saved me?" she asked. Trunks shrugged, their eyes locked in tenseness.

"You said these waters were safe, otherwise I wouldn't have to go in. You're a good swimmer, as far as I can tell, why would you go under in calm water? You were just pretending."

"You don't know that," Pan challenged.

"Then I would have apologized."

"I'd be dead!"

"My Father always said funerals were the perfect place to acknowledge past injustices," Trunks said thoughtfully. Pan pushed herself back onto the raft and rang her hair over the edge.

"You'd come to my funeral?" she asked.

"Yes," Trunk said with firmness. Pan smiled sadly. "They'd probably serve pie there," he began to muse, but was halted by the thwap she gave him to the head.

The king was pouring over some documents, his lips pulled in a scowl and his eyes narrowed. His father had really left some things in horrible shambles. It grieved him to a point to think that his father ever held the country under his rule. So many things needed to be addressed; to be re-written. Of course he had been king for nearly two decades, but many of the old laws were expiring and they were just coming to light. Why had his father made the laws have an end date? He was sure, the man was laughing.

Set in such deep concentration over the arrangements of the farm allotments on the east boarder, he found that the sound of the heavy oak door opening jarred his nerves more than it normally would. He deepened his scowl and glared at the person who entered.

As usual, there was an attendant who meekly ushered the one he was presenting further in. Vegeta glanced outside the window. The sun was a good distance from the horizon. It was late enough in the morning to have visitors, but this didn't change Vegeta's scowl towards them.

He tossed his quill down with a sigh, straightening his posture and denying himself the pleasure of rubbing his temples, to avoid being seen with such a relaxed weakness. Instead he closed his eyes for a moment to will the dull throb in his head away and took a close look at who was interrupting him.

He sighed in recognition.

"Majesty," the man said calmly, sweeping himself into a bow. Vegeta barely acknowledged it.

"What is it?" he said dully. The man blinked and appeared to be slightly taken a back. Vegeta knew what he was there for. The man knew that Vegeta knew, so it caught him unawares. He swallowed.

"Your majesty expressed that he would sign a contract this morning…" he trailed.

"A marriage contract. I remember," he said dully. "But there are some inconsistencies with your claim, and I would like some viable proof to your engagement, so that I do not send some poor wench into your arms against her will."

The man, Keipher he vaguely recalled, looked more gob smacked than ever. He stuttered a bit before clearing his throat and fixing his posture.

"What kind of proof would his majesty like?" he asked quietly.

Vegeta opened his mouth to answer when another person burst in. He spared the new comer a glance and recalled to have frightened the wits out of her a few days ago in the hall. He smirked despite himself.

The girl glanced at the King to offer a quick curtsey in her out-of-breath state, and the glance held all the weariness of one who had been all but traumatized by the King's temper recently. She took a deep breath and spoke to the attendant that had shown Keipher in.

"I'm sorry, but this just arrived and no one knows who this is for, or what to do with it."

The attendant made a motion to not bother him in the King's presence, but Vegeta was finding the girl's breathy predicament more interesting that the dull man in front of him, so allowed his attention to stay on her instead.

The attendant glanced at the King before looking at the package the girl was holding.

"There's a name on that," he said as if the girl was stupid. She frowned.

"I know, but we don't know what to do with it. We don't know who she is," the girl replied with irritation .

The attendant looked at the writing, squinting from reading upside down and sounded out the reversed letters.

"Pan Son," he said slowly. Keipher whirled quickly and looked at the package. He too read from his short distance away and was able to see where the parcel was sent from. He grinned.

"Thank you," he murmured. "You requested proof, mi'lord. Well, as you may recall, Pan, my dear love, has sent her dress up in all her eagerness. Knowing that today, with your gracious consent, we will be wed."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow and looked at the box.

"That's a dress?" he asked calmly. The attendant lifted the lid, facing himself, so only he could peek in.

"Yes sir," he said with authority.

Vegeta lent back in his chair. The attendant looked on, Keipher shifted from foot to foot as the girl watched Keipher with interest at his outburst and situation.

"It's her wedding dress then?" the King asked finally. Keipher nodded eagerly. "So it is white?" he asked again, looking at a rough fingernail.

The king could have sworn he saw the blood drain from the man's face.

"Sir?"

"It stands to reason, with the upcoming Ball, that a lady might have sent her dress up to be held at the castle. Many do, do they not?" he asked, leaning to the side to see the girl on the other side of Keipher.

"Yes, mi'lord," she whispered. "We have many already. But this name is not on our lists…"

"She's not a Lady," Keipher muttered into his hands. He seemed to be thinking hard, and debating heavily, but when he looked back up to the King's eyes, he was quite determined.

"Majesty, the dress is not white, but I can assure you it is for our nuptials." A glance to the attendant confirmed the colour of the dress was not white. The king missed Keipher's breath of relief.

"Then you won't mind me asking what colour it is, if you know?" he asked. Keipher blink repeatedly, his jaw working uselessly. He looked at the box, which the attendant was keeping closed.

The girl looked between the three men and held back a giggle. The poor man just wanted to marry his sweetheart and the King and the stiff messenger thought they could trick him. What man would pay attention to his fiancée's wedding apparel? She knew that men didn't look at that kind of thing. It was a miracle he remembered it wasn't white, as most wedding dresses would be.

She smiled and waited to catch the husband-to-be's eye. When she had caught the desperate orbs, she mouthed two words, hoping he could lip read well enough.

He blinked at her long before turning towards the king, swallowing noisily and announcing quietly;

"Green and gold."

The King raised his eyebrows, the attendant nodded, and the girl grinned.

"Very well," Vegeta said with a sigh. Beside him he reached for the contract that had been placed there.

With one tidy scrawl, his name was added below his father's.

He handed the parchment to Keipher and waved him away.

He was sure him and his lover would be happy together.

Married.

Under the King's orders.

Keipher practically danced out of the king's presence. What luck! He held the contract tightly in his hand, his fingers gripping the paper for all of its worth. He had some how managed to get the King's permission. Once more, it wasn't just by some neglect on the ruler's fault.

It had been apparent that his majesty was testing him on the validity of the entire proposal. The arrival of the dress had been such opportune luck. Though he supposed it could have failed most miserably. But if the dress hadn't been there, he would have had to bring in Pan herself as proof, and he imagined he would have a hard time doing so.

Impossible time, really.

And then he had been such a quick thinker, he praised himself. On his toes on that one. He felt like patting himself on the back for proclaiming that the dress was not white, though he had never seen it before in his life. Wouldn't it have been grand if Pan had turned contradictory and worn white to a ball… which no doubt is what the dress was actually intended for.

Which meant that she would be coming to the castle to collect her dress. And there, away from the angry eyes of her father, he would be able to steal her away, and nothing could change that.

He had the King's permission. And because of the very binding nature of the contract, the King couldn't undo his own signature. He couldn't back out, and the Queen certainly didn't have the grounds or authority to change her husband's signature. And no one would have luck with the prince, because he hated Pan after their run in a few days ago which was the gossip of the town.

Short of lightning striking him, nothing would stop him from marrying Pan.

He grinned, which brought a slight pain to his head from the stretched jaw muscle. He rubbed his scalp lightly and frowned.

He hadn't been able to cure the bump on his head very well. It certainly wasn't throbbing as much as before, but really…

He decided the first thing he'd ask Pan when they were married (and she was under law to obey him as a husband) just who had struck him that day when he had kissed her. That person had quite a good swing really…

Not that it could have been a person, he berated himself. No one was in the room.

Obviously something had fallen, or the like. In any case, he would ask her. And make her feel guilty for causing him that pain. He knew Pan was reluctant, but he would be a good husband… he would make her wealthier than she was now, and happier… who wouldn't be happy with him?

There was nothing that he wouldn't offer her. Short of proclaiming her queen of all the country, Pan would be the most revered woman in the town. He would make it so everyone knew that she was his wife.

He smirked to himself. Yes. It wouldn't be long before Pan's resolve fell and she realized how easy it would be to love him and to give herself freely to him always.

He would woo Pan when the rings were securely on their fingers.

And if she turned out to be unapproachable… what did it matter? She was his forever. If he believed in any higher beings, he thought he might fall and thank them for persuading the King to allow his wishes to come true. As it was, he felt that a thank you was in order for the pretty girl that had so sneakily whispered the colours of the dress. Those secret words which had gained him access to the wonderful piece of signed paper in his hand.

He was grinning to a point where he wasn't even watching where he was walking, so certainly didn't see the woman he would have recognised as the prince's fiancée walking past him in a hurry.

Such was her haste that she did not acknowledge his presence either. Her loose robes trailed along the floor as she walked with whispering footsteps across the stone floor. Despite her layers of clothing, she was feeling chilled, her fingers clenching around themselves and nails digging into unscarred palms.

It had almost been like freedom these past few days. Freedom like she had known before falling into this whole mess. Before being tricked into giving up her name. Before being under contract.

But it was now, with the sun well into the sky that a guard had come to her door and politely passed on the message that she was wanted. She quickly began to create an obscene amount of excuses and reasoning for when the queen questioned her as she had for the past days. But it had struck her that the queen had never sent for her.

And the guard that had spoken to her was only used by one man.

He was back.

With a dry mouth she had left her room, the wanted spell clutched under some folds in her ensemble and swept to meet him. Best not to keep him waiting, as she knew nothing of the temperament he was in, and there was nothing worse then acting anything less than submissive when he was in his moods. Her darkened cheek attested to that plainly.

It was too soon for her liking that she came to the small door that marked the entranceway into his chambers. She swallowed the sand that seemed to be on her tongue and pushed the door open.

She had knocked one time, but he had reprimanded her because it was unfitting for a princess to knock on a councillor's door. He was an impossible man to please. She closed lids over light eyes and took a step in.

Cautiously opening her eyes she caught sight of him at his desk, shifting through some parchments. She cleared her throat delicately to announce her presence. He looked up.

He was still as unappealing as he had ever been, though he did look worse for wear with the dirt of travel and smell of weariness. She doubted he had bathed upon his return. But there was something beyond his usual hermit-like ways that made her look at him closely. What was it?

He stood and smiled in a way that was not unkind, though not meant as a greeting for her. Merely one from a man who seemed to have things going his way.

"I trust you have the spell?" he asked. She nodded, carefully allowing her face to show some level of annoyance, still unsure about his current mood.

"I had it done last time you asked as well. It's ready for the prince upon his return," she finished dully, once again reminded that she would be forcing fake love onto the royal which hypocritically threw out her reason for turning him invisible to everyone in the first place.

Love. She sighed.

"Yes. And he is to return shortly?"

"Today," she agreed. He nodded, writing something quick down on his desk. She carefully rearranged the bottled spell so that it would not fall. She tucked some stray hairs that had slipped in her haste to hurry down to his room. She didn't like it when he looked at her closely, which he did sometimes, as if considering her for more than the contract demanded of her.

With her hair in place, she found it easy to turn the tables and look at him closely. There was something different and it was irritating in the back of her head to not know what it was. She squinted.

Not something physical. Something… it was dirty. Something unclean and bitter. It tasted of dust and decay. It smelt odd. It was something she sensed, not saw. And it was something that she couldn't- oh. She blinked before taking an unconscious step back.

It was surrounding him as pure as day. She wondered how she could not have placed it for what it was when she first noticed the difference. She flinched at the feeling resonating from him, and couldn't hold back the tremble that slid up her spine.

"You've killed someone," she said in a small voice she hadn't meant to sound so young. He looked up sharply, almost curiously, before shrugging on a look of indifference.

"Not that it's any of your concern," he said smartly. She tore her eyes away from him.

"You took a life," she said again, almost to herself. She could tell, by the way he did not respond but turned back to his work that he made no excuses for himself. That if he wasn't proud of what he did, he certainly wasn't repenting of it.

The scratch of a hurried quill on paper made her force her cold feet to move towards the door and away from the horrid sense he was radiating off. Cold murder. It stung in the air like bitter wine. It was suffocating. She felt nauseous.

The air outside the room was as refreshing as ice water in the summer. She breathed deeply.

"He took a life," she murmured again, and tried to tell herself desperately that this was worse than taking a love. That the spell in her robes would not condemn her to the same putrescence that would forever mark his soul.

She wasn't very convincing.

"I would have saved you," she said stubbornly. Trunks rolled his eyes.

"Why are you still on about this?" he asked, legs outstretched, looking at Pan from shielded eyes. She was sitting with straight posture and frowning.

"Because if you were drowning, I would save you."

"That's because you know how to swim," he pointed out.

"No. Even if I didn't." She was sulking now. Her hair had dried and her clothes were back on her body, tied tightly and straight; ready for her appearance at the castle. Her efforts to persuade the prince into the water turned to be futile, despite her insistence that he had made a promise. She had finally given up and stubbornly held to the fact that he did not rescue her when she had needed apparent help.

"Maybe you would have. I guess that just makes you a foolhardy, selfless person than," he commented flippantly, a comment hidden underneath his meaning. She slackened her stance and looked at him surprised.

"Selfless? You're kidding, yes?" she asked, shielding her eyes also with the back of her hand. The prince unfolded his hands and looked at her questionably.

"Pardon?" he asked.

"I'd save you… but it would be selfish of me. I mean… nobody rescues someone because they are noble or have some virtuous courage. It's for themselves. Because they can't picture living on without that person. When people die, you don't cry for them… you cry for yourself. And the pain you're in because you aren't with them anymore. It's all very selfish."

Trunks' eyebrows were both raised and he absentmindedly picked at some invisible dust on his clothes.

"I'm not sure if I agree with you… what about people that rescue complete strangers?"

"They don't want to live with the guilt of having done nothing."

"You'd rescue me because you'd feel too guilty to let me die?"

"I suppose," Pan answered cautiously.

"Still. I don't agree."

"Then why do people risk themselves like that?"

"I suspect it's because they love the person and they just don't want them to suffer. It has nothing to do with themselves."

Pan mimicked the prince, saying,

"What about people that rescue complete strangers?"

"Oh. Well… I guess maybe it's just human goodness or something."

Pan tilted her head and thought about his position. She couldn't say she agreed with him. People just naturally weren't that nice. If that were true, there wouldn't be people like Keipher or smelly councillors. People would be happy. She wouldn't have to be on a raft bringing a cursed prince to the castle so his father can steal her land. Good people did not do these things.

She remembered how Goten had always teased her about being too cynical for her on good, but she wasn't trying to find bad things in everything. Sometimes… she just couldn't put leaps of faith in things like people. Of all things.

Best not to waste good faith on things that are so unpredictable and irrational.

The prince seemed to take her momentary silence as surrender to his side. He seemed quite content with himself. Pan hated to break the serene smile that was on his face. It was small and subtle, but still, she had not seen such a natural peaceful expression on his face before.

She wanted to pull her eyes away from him, but couldn't bring herself to. She believed in love. With all her heart. But love at first sight was something she did not buy into. It was irrational, and she knew that love was irrational most of the time, but she just couldn't let her mind wrap around the concept. Even so, she had believed that real love would take years to develop and to realize.

She hadn't expected this.

At least she hadn't fallen for him at first glance, or she would be a rotten predicament with herself. But no, he had been a down right jerk to her, so no chance of love seeds there.

But that was a few days ago. And now, she-

No. She did not love him. She couldn't. She had known him for only a few days. And yes, he had saved her in some things, comforted her, kissed her…

She couldn't stop her fingers from reaching to her lips.

But she knew that she didn't hate him anymore. And she knew that when he asked for a kiss again, she would probably give it to him. And if he asked her to stay with him… well…

She did not love him. If she kept saying it to herself like a mantra it would never come true. She would never have to deal with some misplaced love for the prince of the country.

No. She did not love him. But she certainly liked him. And as shocking as an observation it had been before, Pan realized with a strong certainty, that some how he had managed to worm his way into a friendship with her, yet she found it lacking.

There was something in the way that when he looked at her directly, her heart would beat just a little faster. Or that what he expected from her was different than what anyone had ever expected from her.

Nothing.

Well, not that he had no expectations. Just… he wanted her to be herself. And that was such a quality that she could not help but notice. And it had caught her attention since the dress buying.

And she wanted to hug him, his broad arms wrapping around her and protecting her from the evils outside their embrace.

But she couldn't. She couldn't love him. Because he was going to leave her for the throne in a matter of hours. And she would go back home.

And no, she didn't love him, but somehow she knew it would be horrible to say good bye.

And even that she couldn't explain. How she had met this man literally days ago. Hours if you looked at the span of a lifetime. Why did he mean so much? They didn't even get along…

And it reminded her of her uncle. When Goten had sworn he was completely in love with the daughter of the miller a few farms over. They had been together constantly. She remembered how he would talk of wanting to be with her and for it to never end.

And Pan had asked, in a child's innocence, when they would get married. And Goten didn't have an answer. It was weeks later, when that love had worn out that he had explained it to her curious mind.

He had liked her. Loved her to a point. But it was a love that wasn't meant to be kept cooped up in his chest. One that he could hold and play with, but not one forever.

Even until now, Pan had never understood him. She had always believed that she would love one person totally and completely. Like her parents did. But now she could understand. She could relate that, yes, in fact… she probably did love the prince.

Love him to want to be with him, because he made her smile. Love him to want to make sure he's safe, as he did for her. Love him… because it is the way her heart declares it.

But it would not last. It would pass. She could tell. Because when she looked at him, she could picture a life without him again. If she were completely in love, she would not be able to. Right?

It saddened her a bit, to think that the feelings she held so much faith in could be so flippant with her.

But alas.

She broke the frown that had settled onto her face away and looked up to catch Trunks staring at her.

"You would rescue me," he said after a moment. She nodded.

"You care about me then?" he asked, and she couldn't help but wonder if that was nervousness in his voice.

"It will pass," she repeated to herself, softly.

Trunks took a discreet look to his side. Pan had been catching him looking at her lately, and he didn't want her to notice how many times she had caught him at it. He didn't know why he looked at her so frequently. Just lately… she had been getting such contemplative looks, that he had to study and try to figure out. What was his young lady thinking of? It was impossible to tell sometimes, but he always liked to try.

And it was an unreadable face that was walking beside him as they ascended what seemed like and endless slop of stone stairs. He had expressed his displeasure of climbing the insufferable slabs of rock, but Pan had shown that they were what lead to his castle.

He was quick to point out that there was an easier way somehow, because he had certainly left his castle before and never had to climb.

She had politely informed him back that it was because he was more pampered than…

But what ever she was going to say to him was cut off. They looked to find a large iron gate obstructing their path. Trunks glanced at Pan who seemed to be looking at it with concern.

"What?" he whispered.

"Last time I came I had a pardon. I have no reason to be here this time."

"You're with me," he said. She shot him a look.

"You're invisible," she said smartly. Trunks clamped his mouth shut and looked around. Pan fidgeted uncontrollably, her eyes glued to the left, and when he glanced there he saw them watching a guard walking towards them.

"Ma'am," he spoke with a husk voice when he got close enough, "do you have business here?" he asked. Trunks bit his lip. Pan seemed to be taking her time in thinking of business, but finally swept her hand in a flourish and said she was here to see the princess-to-be.

Trunks raised his eyebrows and nudged her in the side. Why was she asking to see that girl? There was no way… oh. Asking for her probably was smart… Pan would be able to say her name, and she would know who she- heck, the girl could see him. She would let them in. Trunks grinned at Pan's quick thinking.

But the guard shook his head.

"She ain't informed me of you. No admittance without pardon. I'm sorry ma'am."

Pan looked like she wanted to stomp her foot, but instead tossed her hair irritably behind her shoulder and pointed a finger at the man.

"Now, she's my best friend, and if she finds that you've sent me away she will be very upset. And if she's upset, so will her fiancé. And do you really want the prince upset with you?"

The guard took the act civilly and deadpan. He shook his head.

"I'm sorry ma'am but-"

"Look, just send word to her that Pan Son is here. Can you do that? She'll let me in," she said with urgency. The guard shook his head, irritation settling in his features.

"I'm afraid that-"

"You will let her pass," came a voice from beyond them both. The guard spun around to see who had sneaked behind him and nearly fell over himself, sputtering out what he was saying.

Pan squeaked and bit her lip.

Trunks smiled.

He was home.

This scene will be continued, so no need to wonder who is letting them in.

I am still resolved to finish this by New Year, or the end of my winter break at the very least. I just need to motivate myself to the fullest. I dug in my desk to find all my notes for this story, and plotted out the rest of the… well, plot. I'd guess there to be about five chapters left. Thanks for sticking with me, and especially those that reviewed last chapter. Some of them were the best I've ever had and truly were appreciated.

Angel Eevee