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."
Trunks swallowed and clarified, "You mean, your bed partner."
"Yes," she said with a nod.
Trunks pursed his lips as he considered the offer. She would fight him if he agreed to the terms, and he knew that she was not as strong as he. She had more training, but he should be able to take her on raw power alone. "Alright," he finally said, fighting off a strange sense of fatality.
She settled into a fighting stance and Trunks felt a surge of apprehension when he realized that he couldn't identify what she was doing. She was in a horseman's stance, but her hands were open and hanging by her thighs. It had the feel of something purposeful and formalized, but he wasn't sure what; he couldn't even tell if it was offensive or defensive.
He slid into a forward offensive stance and put his fists up to block his face. Avia stood there a moment longer, and he felt the ki building in her. He increased his ki output, trying to match her somewhat. He was sure that she was not fully powered up when she threw herself at him.
He held his ground and caught her arms as they swung up. Using her own momentum, he twisted her past him, releasing her so that she could stumble away. She turned back, faster than he expected, and kicked at his shin. He instinctively jumped back, and knew immediately that it had been a mistake; the sense of ki in her arms flared and she slammed her palm into his nose as he was trying to regain his stance.
His world was reduced to the grinding pain in his face; involuntary tears were blurring his vision. He had been hit before, but not in the nose, and he was now sure that it was the worst place to get hit next to the groin. "First blood is mine," Avia said triumphantly.
Trunks reached up to his nose and felt the moisture there; his fingers were clearly red, even through his blurred vision. He shook his head, clearing the water from his eyes and replied, "Yeah, that would mean something if we were fighting to first blood."
She smiled and dashed forward again, but this time Trunks was ready. With a grunt, he jumped straight up and over her, kicking at her shoulder blades as he come down behind her. Avia obviously didn't expect him to be able to fly, and he had her momentarily off-balance, stumbling forward. He kicked at her shoulders again, driving her down into the sand of the arena floor.
She rolled and twisted impossibly fast, and Trunks gasped as she neatly recovered and jumped into a forward kick at his chest. Trunks grabbed her foot, intending to throw her past him again, but she bent the captured leg, snapping her other foot up to kick at him. He caught that one too, and held her tight for a second.
With a nasty, yet somehow attractive snarl, Avia bent herself backwards and punched into his knees. With a yelp of pain – she had connected solidly with his shin – Trunks dropped kicked her across the room. Despite the distance she achieved on the tumbling arc, she had twisted away from the blow itself and it hadn't done much.
Avia righted herself from her tumble with a flare of ki, stopping herself before slamming into the wall. Her hair danced and trembled like a living creature, stirred by the ki emanating from her glowing body. Her clothes and skin were dirty, but her golden eyes were shining with excitement, and she was grinning fiercely.
Trunks found himself smiling back at her. She was so beautiful like that, glowing and golden-eyed, that he just watched her quietly. He was nearly caught off guard when she surged forward at him again.
This time the fighting was different; he was largely on the defensive from a hundred small, fast blows. There were no large, sweeping moves. Every blow was careful and planned; she was, he realized suddenly, testing him, pushing his speed and reflexes. Before, she had been so sure that she could just sweep him out of the way that she hadn't bothered to really fight him. The realization made him bristle with anger, and it was the catalyst for him to go on the offensive.
He pushed his power up rapidly, and heard Vegeta gasp as he sensed the increase. Avia had the training, the finesse and the speed, but he had the power, and he was tired of not showing it. With a snarl, he ducked easily behind Avia and slammed his fists into her shoulders as he drove both of his feet into the back of her knees. With a startled grunt of pain, she fell face-first to the arena floor.
He didn't stop there either. Trunks cut his flight and dropped onto her, further driving her into the dirt floor and pinning her there. With a squeal, she spun under him, incredibly fast, and punched him in the right eye. Trunks felt it swell instantly, but he ignored that, instead repaying her with a similar strike across the cheek. "Yield!" he howled, finally trapping her legs so that she couldn't thrash as easily.
"Never!" she hissed at him, her eyes flashing with rage, still wiggling as much as she could.
"I can't let you win, you know that," he whispered, his eyes leaving hers to trail down over her face with a strangely hungry expression. He couldn't stop the look in his eyes, anymore than he could stop his pleasure at this contact with her.
"Then why?" she growled. "Tell me why. You owe me that much."
"I can't tell you," he said, his eyes coming back to hers. "Please yield."
"I yield to no man," she snarled.
"Sister, you yield to Nappa all the time," Vegeta said from the side of the arena.
"As I said, no man," Avia said with a ghost of a smile. Vegeta snorted sourly.
"Yield," Trunks breathed tensely.
"No," she answered just as quietly as she bucked fruitlessly against him again.
"Fine," Trunks answered, drawing his fist back. He had to take her out; she wasn't going to step down. It was still hard to slam his fist down into her face, and harder to do it again when she still glared stubbornly at him. The ones after were easier; he just fell into a brutal rhythm.
Avia woke up slowly, feeling as if a large stone had been dropped on her – repeatedly. She opened her eyes and glanced around herself, unsurprised to see that she was in a regeneration tank. Her eyes dropped down through the murky liquid to stare at her hands. Once, she had thought that she had good, strong hands, but now… He beat me, she thought, disbelief curling up tightly in her stomach. A slave beat me! Someone tapped on the glass, and Avia glanced up, startled to see Queen Cyrane peering through the glass at her.
"Mother?" she said, grimacing as the edges of the face mask pulled unpleasantly. "What are you doing here?"
"Waiting for you to wake up after getting your butt kicked by your brother," she said, her face crinkling into a relieved smile that Avia couldn't help but match, even as she flinched at her mother's statement.
Cyrane laughed at Avia's expression. Misinterpreting what Avia was actually feeling, the dark-skinned woman said, "Don't feel too bad! It's not a dishonor to be beaten up by the soon-to-be-Legendary!"
Avia ducked her eyes down; her mother was also highly perceptive when it came to her children, and Avia had a secret to keep now. Cyrane tapped on the glass again, and Avia reluctantly looked up to meet her gaze. "Hey, it's a good sign for him to defeat elites older than himself," Cyrane said consolingly.
Avia shook her head as the pain-haze fled further. "Can I leave now?" she asked, looking past Cyrane for a technician.
Cyrane nodded and turned to a person hidden behind the curve of the tank. She nodded at them, and after a second, Avia's ears popped as the pressure in the tank changed and began to drain. When the door popped open she stepped out, igniting her ki to dry herself and turned to the technician for a robe.
Trunks stood there, his hands on the panel, his eyes wide as they ran over her skin. Avia gasped, wishing she had a towel; for the first time in her life, modesty mattered to her. Standing before him, she felt naked in soul as well as in body – a unique experience for her.
With a sudden blush, Trunks glanced away, averting his eyes. His discomfort didn't help her either, oddly enough. His hands fumbled behind the console and pulled out a robe, which he thrust in her vague direction.
"What are you doing here?" Avia snapped at Trunks as she pulled the robe on.
Cyrane blinked in surprise and looked at the man who had been standing in the console since she came in. Avia wasn't surprised that she hadn't noticed Trunks; Queen Cyrane rarely paid attention to slaves at all.
"Grandfather asked me to sit down here and let him know when you awoke," he said, still not looking at her. "He wants to see you, when you feel up to it."
"What does Grandfather Vegeta want?" Avia asked with surprise. It wasn't like he had ever been very interested in her before.
"He doesn't tell me these things, Avia," Trunks sighed, looking at her finally. He looked tired, worn out, and she wondered if her brother had been giving him enough time to sleep.
"Tell him I will be up to his rooms later today," Avia said, her tone stiff and formal. Trunks bowed slightly and left the room. Avia watched him go before leaving with her mother.
Avia sat before the Jazzicou board, wondering what was happening. Lord – Grandfather, she mentally corrected herself – Vegeta was bent over the board, his frown of concentration creasing his face, making him look even older. "Your move," he said with sudden briskness as he moved a piece.
Still feeling off-center from both the healing tank and the strange situation, Avia considered the board carefully. To be honest, she wasn't sure that she could focus enough to play a strong game – Trunks' silent presence in the corner was distracting her badly. But even if Trunks had not been there, she suspected that she would still be off-balance due to the situation. In the fifteen years she had been at the palace, she had never spoken with the former King, or before been called into his presence. What he wanted was a mystery, and the curiosity was eating her alive.
Her fingers had settled on her Swordsman piece when Grandfather Vegeta suddenly asked, "Are you interested in any male?"
Again, thanks to all for the recaps – good, bad, they are all helpful. But if you have a criticism, please feel free to say why you feel the way you do! "Such-in-such character is dull," lets me know something is unpleasing about the character, but it doesn't tell me why they're boring. Are they boring because they never do anything? Are they boring because everything that falls out of their mouth is a platitude not fit for Bo Kent's mouth (obscure Smallville reference!)? I mean it when I say criticism is welcome, but without the 'why,' it's just empty words that only cause me self-doubt.
Anyway, thanks for all the comments! I do appreciate them.
PK