The Legendary stood in the center of the room, his hand extended toward the far wall.  A large section of wall was gone, and Vegeta could only gape at the power this being had.  When it faced him, Vegeta had more reason to stare – it was the human slave who glowed with Vegeta-sei's most holy power!

In that moment, the young prince's mind could have gone one of two possible ways.  Part of him was instantly outraged at a slave wielded this power, and his first instinct was to cry out against this person.  The other part of him was instantly afraid of this slave – would not this be the person who replaced him on Vegeta-sei's throne?

But there was another part to this boy, one that nearly been socialized out of him.  This part recognized that he needed the help of this person, and that realization began the birth of a true king.

The door opened, and Trunks turned to face it, adrenaline pumping through his body.  The Prince stood there, gaping up at him.  You have to kill him, so he can't share your secret, a voice in his head told him.  Trunks stared at his brother, unsure of what to do, and for a moment, the blackest mood that he had ever felt gripped him.  Some family I have.  My father is a pernicious bastard, my sister just seduced me, and my brother is going to kill me for being a half-breed.

Then the expression on the Prince's face changed from rage to supplication. "Train me, please!  Show me how to be the Legendary!" Prince Vegeta cried, raising one hand in entreaty, and Trunks' black mood fled.  With a soft sigh of surrender, Trunks released the light.  He could not kill anyone who was pleading for his help.

"I don't think anyone would allow that," Trunks answered softly, watching the young Saiyan for the inevitable moment – the moment when his brother would try to blackmail him, when Trunks would have to decide if he really could kill this golden-eyed child to protect himself.

"Nobody has to know about it," Vegeta said confidently.  Seeing the doubt on the slave's face, his confidence faded, and he continued, "I will keep it secret, and you have free time, caring for Grandfather."

"I don't know if I can teach you this," Trunks admitted with a frown.  "No one taught me, I just did it when--" He cut off, the memories of finding the light within himself too painful.

The boy was silent for a moment.  Finally, he said quietly, "I have to learn how to be the Legendary.  My father says that I have to learn it on my own, as he did.  But I've tried and tried, and I know that I need help!  Please, I have to become the Legendary!  I won't beg, but I will be honest – I need you to help me with this."  The prince's clenched fists shook, and he bowed his head so that the gathering tears of frustration would be hidden.

Trunks stared down at the teenager, remembering the time that he had asked Kakkarot to teach him to fight.  That unexpected connection with his unknown brother wore down the final doubt.  And besides, the more cynical part of him added, having the Prince owe him a favor could be handy. With a grunt, he shook that thought away disgustedly.  That was the way that the slaves and servants thought.  People might call him a slave, but he knew what he was.

"Fine," Trunks said.  "Meet me in your rooms tonight.  I'll come once Lord Vegeta is asleep."

Prince Vegeta snarled in frustration and hurled a pillow across the room.  As it cleared the edge of the balcony, he shot a beam of ki at it, disintegrating it.  It wasn't the first thing he had destroyed in the last two hours, but it was the biggest.

"Feel better?" Trunks asked, keeping his voice patient.  He was only partly successful – the prince whirled on him with rage in his eyes.  Trunks merely raised one eyebrow, not showing anything other than purposeful calm, and Vegeta took his cue, dropping back into his cross-legged position.

"Why is this so hard?" Vegeta half-whined, half-snarled. 

Trunks smiled, remembering his own frustration at mastering this skill.  "Maybe we should do something more physical for a while," he said, hoping to pacify his younger brother.

To his credit, Vegeta shook his head. "No, I've learned lots of physical stuff, and besides, you said this is the foundation.  Nothing else is going to do much good until I learn it."

Trunks shrugged and offered, "Learning this stuff is hard.  It took me a few days."

"How many days exactly?" Vegeta asked, his eyes narrowing into a stubborn glare.

"Umm, six, I think," Trunks said, hoping that was the truth.  It had been a while ago.

Vegeta smirked and sat up straighter.  "Then I'll do it in five."

Trunks nodded, slightly irked.  "Then you'd better concentrate.  Take a deep breath, and clear your mind."  Vegeta did so, closing his eyes.  Trunks continued talking, walking him through the technique to sense ki without a scouter.

"I did it in four," Vegeta said when Trunks walked into his room four nights later.  Trunks hesitated, clearly put off by the proclamation and said, "Fine, hot stuff.  Show me."

Vegeta frowned.  "How can I show you?"

"Where is the nearest source of ki to us right now?" Trunks asked, aware of Queen Cyrane moving in her room above them.

"My mother, over us," Prince Vegeta said smugly.  The smirk widened when Trunks frowned.

"Fine," Trunks said finally, his tone grudging.  "Lets move somewhere else; your room is about to become too small for the next step of training."

"There is a small arena down in the sparring area that is private," Vegeta said.  "It isn't popular because it doesn't have an observation balacony."

Trunks nodded.  It sounded like it would work, if only because most Saiyans preferred to have an audience when they sparred.  "Lead the way, Your Highness."

Vegeta paused and turned to Trunks with a slight frown.  "Call me Vegeta when we spar," he ordered, his face closed and impassive.  There was an emotion in his eyes and voice that Trunks couldn't place; it strangely warmed the half-Saiyan, though, and he took comfort in the sensation.

"Yes, Vegeta," Trunks answered with a nod of head.  Prince Vegeta moved out of the room, using his new-found ki-sensing ability to check around corners and in rooms without Trunks telling him.  Trunks was pleased to see that his pupil was already grasping the tactical advantages of not needing the scouter.

Vegeta lead him through long corridors, skirting the busier hallways.  Finally, he pushed a dirty iron door open, waving Trunks in past him.  Trunks stepping into a room that was as vertical as the rest of Vegeta-sei's architecture; a high vaulted ceiling rose above the sand floor. The walls were made of sandstone, and with a shaft of afternoon sun pouring in through the skylight, the room was a glowing golden color.

"Ok," Vegeta said, turning to face Trunks.  "We're in a bigger place.  Now what?"

"Empty your mind, just as if you're going to sense ki," Trunks instructed as he dropped into a fighting stance.  Vegeta quickly set himself up, frowning as he concentrated on keeping his mind focused and his body ready.  "Don't worry if you can't immediately—"

"I can," Vegeta snarled irritably.  "Just tell me what else to do."

"Attack me," Trunks said with a smile, his own mind calm and focused.  Vegeta grinned eagerly and bounced forward, his fists feinting a strong double one-two while he actually swung his knee into Trunks' side.  To his dismay, Trunks saw through his feint and blocked his knee with his thigh, swept Vegeta's fists away from himself and chopped an open hand at Vegeta's neck.  The chop stopped short, and Trunks said with a bit more pleasure than necessary, "You're dead, Vegeta."

"Damn it!" Vegeta snarled, pushing away from Trunks and dropping back into stance. 

Instead of joining him, Trunks asked, "What happened?"

Vegeta straightened up, frowning angrily.  "You saw what I was going to do."

"Partially correct," Trunks said pleased to see that the prince's earlier smugness had faded.  "I saw that you were setting both maneuvers up, but I sensed that your ki was gathering in your legs."

Vegeta gaped at him, his anger gone as he asked Trunks, "You can do that?"

"And you'll be able to with enough practice, though it won't help too much if your opponent is so fast that you can't take advantage of it," Trunks said with a smile.  "Now do you understand why the ki-sensing was so important?"

Vegeta nodded, his chin squaring up as he dropped into a stance.  "Again, and show me how to sense what my opponent will do," he said.

Trunks nodded and dropped into another, more offensive stance.  As he opened his mouth to continue the lessons, the door to the arena popped open.  Both men whirled to see Avia in the doorway; with a scowl she snarled, "What in oblivion is going on here?"

Vegeta dashed over to his sister and pulled her into the room, shutting the door behind her.  "We were just…" his voice trailed off as he realized that the only good answer was not one he could give.

"We were just goofing around," Trunks said softly, his eyes fastened on Avia.  It was the first time he had seen her since that time, and he was startled to find that he wanted her.  His body was responding to her in a way that was wrong, but he liked it.  I'm really fucked up, he thought, turning his head to stare at the wall.

"Mother and Father will not be pleased," Avia was growling at Vegeta, who was crossing his arms defensively.  "You have Nappa to spar with – what do you need a slave for?"

"Trunks is teaching me to fight," Vegeta rejoined, resentment heating his voice.  "I wasn't getting anywhere with Nappa; I had learned all that I could from him.  Trunks is helping me!"

"He's going to ruin your training," Avia snarled, pointing an angry finger at the quiet slave.

"You will not tell Father, Mother or anyone!" Vegeta hissed the order, leaning forward to emphasis his point. 

Avia leaned in as well, taking advantage of the slight height that she held over her younger brother.  "I will not allow you to throw your training away by 'learning' from an inferior creature."

"How do you know I'm inferior?" Trunks asked, and Avia turned her glare on him.

"You're a slave," she snarled, her voice patient as if explaining to a small child.  "If you weren't inferior, you wouldn't be a slave.  You have nothing to teach my brother."

"You don't know that," Trunks replied, refusing to show any hesitation or fear as he stared her down.  He didn't want to do this, but he had come to value his time with his brother; he wouldn't let Avia take their time away!  "You've never fought me."

"Stay out of this, human slave!" she shouted in his face.  She had so little regard for him that she whirled and began to walk back to Vegeta.  Suddenly, she spun back to him and said with a trembling voice, "I won't let you hurt this family anymore."  Her golden eyes shone with anger and pain – pain he had put there.

Trunks fought against the guilt that pounded through him.  "Avia, don't punish Vegeta for what I did to you.  It's different."

"I'd hope so," Avia hissed angrily, "though many don't see much of a difference."

"Avia," Trunks said, his voice exasperated, "you can spar with us, see that Vegeta isn't being ruined—"

"I'm good enough to fight, but not good enough to fuck?" she growled.

Vegeta dropped his head into his hands.  "Oh, for the love of All!  If you two are going to have a lover's quarrel, can I leave?" he moaned from the haven of his hands.

"We're not lovers!" Trunks squeaked, his face burning red.

"That is correct!" Avia snarled, her wrathful expression increasing with Trunks' denial.  "We are not anything!"

"But there is something going on," Vegeta persisted.  "I know, because you're red enough to dye your shirt pink, Trunks, and Avia's knuckles are bone-white."

Trunks' face flushed redder at Vegeta's proclamation, while Avia protested, "They am not!  And that's beyond the point.  I am going to talk to Mother."

"Wait!" Trunks said, desperate to stop her.  "What can we do to convince you that I can benefit your brother?"

"Nothing," she said coldly, but she had stopped, and was looking at him. 

"Spar with me, right now," Trunks offered.  "If you defeat me, I'll stop teaching Vegeta.  If I defeat you, you can't tell anyone our secret."

Avia's eyes narrowed as she considered this.  After a moment, she said, "Let's up the ante.  In addition to the terms you have offered, I offer these: if you defeat me, I'll submit to your training along with my brother.  If I win, you will become what I want you to be to me."

Thanks to all who have reviewed – your words of encouragement mean a lot to me.  Frankly, they help me keep going when I get bogged down.  Again, thanks so much.

PK