Dark Angel
Chapter 6
It had been two weeks since her abduction and still not a word. Her father should have at least responded by then, she thought grimly, sifting through her newly acquired ward rob. Vegeta, heartless creature that he was, had insisted on providing her with more than the necessities. He had given her countless gowns for her immensely growing closet and insisted she look presentable. She could not imagine why. It wasn't like anyone but him and her also newly acquired body guard, Radditz, ever saw her.
The demon's were a barbaric group. Late night parties and unimaginable traditions were their daily routine. She couldn't quite figure what it was she had imagined them to be but it certainly wasn't the drug addicted spawn of creation she was witnessing. Even the "invincible" Demon King himself, had many a night been unable to recognize her for reasons unbeknownst to her.
Every day she remembered the kiss. If indeed, you could call it that. It had been a whirl wind of emotion. Fear, pain, and yes.. Even pleasure. A kind of sick, demented pleasure that she could neither understand nor deny.
She had seen him every day since her kidnapping, occasionally for almost an hour. Sad to say, he and Radditz were her limited and only social life. Radditz hardly ever spoke, although when he did, he was far more courteous then Vegeta. Radditz would merely sit and observe her from a corner in her room, in which she had supposed he'd been banished until the end of her stay. Occasionally though, she would catch him out of the corner of her eyes, smiling at her strange angelic ways. In truth, and though I doubt she would ever admit it if you asked her, she believed he liked her.. or I guess I should say tolerated her.
It was more than she could say for her barbaric servant women. Stomping around her with hideous scowls entrenched on their manly faces, they never spoke. Not even to answer a question, which Bulma considered silently, was simply common courtesy. She could tell that they despised her. She was their enemy. They glared at her light skin and hair, a complete contrast with their own.
Finally, she would have it no more and decided to out right ask Radditz. He chuckled softly, a sound she adored simply because of it's fine rarity in such a place.
"Jealousy." He remarked simply in a way all his own. She could only reply in confusion and he sighed, realizing she had obviously missed the underlying meaning.
"The King shows you far more attention than any of them. Than anyone at all in Hell. They believe you have cast a spell on him."
"Preposterous!" she seethed.
"I don't know the first thing about spells and I certainly wouldn't know one that could control Vegeta."
Radditz always flinched when she used his master's name. He often scorned her for such blatant disrespect and yet it further disturbed him that the King hardly seemed to mind. This time though, he let the name slide.
"Well.. spell or not, you have certainly bewitched me Princess." He rivaled in her blush but choose to continue.
"I am not the only one. All the males who have seen you are awe stricken Angel. This is the source of their jealousy." He told her truthfully. She admired his blunt answers and painful honesty. She flushed at his comments, turning away. He certainly was confident and had the looks to back it up. And, although he seemed oblivious, she had noticed the lustful looks he had gotten from the servant women. He had a boyishly handsome face and bright eyes, so much like her old friend Goku in Heaven. Another acquaintance she missed dearly.
She could not even force herself to flirt back. She was too occupied with thoughts of Yamcha. Unbelievable how much you can miss a person you never imagined you would. But that simply wasn't true. She had known the Prince all her life and cared deeply for him in a way more superior then petty friendship. She missed him and thought of him everyday as she stared off into the surrounding nation of blood. She knew as soon as she was surrendered she would marry him. She openly pushed away the ever present thought that there was a good chance she'd never even see him again. Negative thoughts were detrimental in such a condition that she was in. All she would allow herself to ponder over was him and how much she loved him.
Her and Vegeta's talks were always converted into arguments. It was like clock work. He would show false interest at first and than make some snide remark about her or her upbringing causing her to insult him and his barbaric kingdom and before you know it, he would storm out of the room. One time he had savagely thrown her onto the bed as a result of a misplaced insult. It hadn't hurt and Bulma found it suprising that for all his savage ways, Vegeta mainly avoided ever hurting her.
Today things were tense. She had felt Vegeta's frustration when he had walked into the room. Knowing she was walking on thin ice, she decided to tread softly today. She wanted to avoid an unfriendly episode today. She just wasn't in a feisty enough mood.
He sat at the end of her bed, tapping his foot viciously on the floor, his black combat boots making a sharp clicking on the expensive marble beneath. The temperature in the room was unpleasantly hot and she was sure that the angry demon had not even noticed. Silently, she resolved to calm him down before virtually being melted.
"What's wrong Vegeta?" she asked in a voice so sweet it could have sent Saddam Hussein to his knees. He eyed her cautiously, uncertain as to where this apparent concern was heading. He buried his face in his hands exasperated. He'd never understand this creature. But her face betrayed no hint of deceit and the thought calmed him, the temperature in the room becoming more and more acceptable. Funny how he hadn't even noticed how hot it had been. Massaging his temples in frustration, he looked at the floor.
"Another outbreak. Fifteen of my strongest men where slaughtered by a demon mob." He sighed.
She remarked quietly to herself that this was by far the least dangerous she'd ever seen him. And even more privately, perhaps even privately from herself, she had begun caring mildly about him. And she knew how much it upset him to see his kingdom in such turmoil. She should have guessed in the first place that that was what was bothering him. The outbreaks were becoming more and more frequent and she wondered if perhaps her staying in the castle wasn't partly to blame. The heartless creatures that inhabited this last were in a firm resolve to take action against the throne if their demands for power were not met and Vegeta was at his wits end on how to keep them at bay.
Obviously not asking aloud, Bulma silently wondered if Vegeta's stressful condition regarding his kingdom wasn't out of pride and blind arrogance. She knew that he had killed his father, he made no attempt to conceal such information, forbidden though it was. But she figured that perhaps this goal of striving to be the strongest was a direct attempt to be a better king than his father was. Maybe even to prove to his father that he was worthy of his title. Much more so then his brother Draco.
"It is of no real concern." He straightened up.
"Once I own heaven, there will be no reason for rebellion." Bulma shrugged noticeably unconvinced.
"It seems like people always have a reason for rebellion." She pointed. "Even in heaven we have two sided opinions and an occasional outbreak." Vegeta raised an eyebrow in slight disbelief.
"Really?" He asked. It wasn't a question he was used to asking but her information had simply startled him. She giggled a little, releasing all the tension that had been mounding in the air. Moving closer to him, she continued.
"Well none that actually get around." She winked. The gesture pleased him.
"My father makes sure that such disputes are settled quickly and quietly so that heaven remains the peaceful kingdom it has always been with reputation in tact. But being the Princess, sure I've seen lots of crazy things happen over moronic incidences."
"Like what?" he asked. She hadn't really expected him to be interested and the idea simply thrilled her.
"Well," she began, "I mean there are some angels who believe that all demons are evil and that they should be hunted down like animals and be slaughtered just for what they were. And then there are.. people like me." She wasn't sure if she should have put that part in there but it had obviously raised further interest.
"Oh? And what do people like you believe?" he asked in his trademark deep accented voice. The raspiness of it sent chills up her spine. His gaze didn't exactly help as she always seemed to interpret it as more than what it was, a sad side affect of being beautiful and desired her entire life. She did notice that his gaze no longer made her so uncomfortable. She smiled slightly before arranging her words. She didn't want to accidentally insult him with a quick and faulty tongue.
"I believe.. well.." she stammered, unsure of an answer that wouldn't make her look like a moron in front of him. For whatever reason, though I'm sure you and I know, his opinion of her mattered greatly.
"Well you see.." she began, "when I was a little girl, my mother always told me that every being had a soul." Her only reaction was a raised eyebrow so she continued.
"That soul is capable of so many things and emotions. A soul can feel fear, hatred, hurt and even love."
"Ridiculous." Grunted Vegeta, but his open interested had not dwindled. Some how Bulma wasn't surprised by his comment. It was so like him to insult anything he didn't know first hand and especially something he, God forbid, didn't understand. Still, she remained calm simply dismissing the verbal intrusion with a curt wave of the hand.
"Well, ever since then, I've always agreed with her. I believe everyone has a soul." Vegeta remained in quiet resolve for a moment before looking her straight in the eye.
"I don't." he said the words with such finality that it was as if he had already forsaken such an idea.
"If you want to believe that you don't, then go ahead Vegeta." She stated firmly as if she were talking to a misguided teen.
"If believing you were damned from birth helps you to kill more easily and cleans your conscience every night then be my guest. But I don't believe you." Between us.. and keep this little tid bit to your self. I don't actually think Bulma even believed what she was telling him. I think even she thought of him as a heartless lost cause at the time. But perhaps I shouldn't skip to conclusions.
"I believe that everyone has a soul. Whether or not they choose to abide by what it tells them or dismiss it, is up to them. But I believe that not all demons are monsters and that mercy can and should be shown when needed. I guess.. I guess I just choose to give everyone the benefit of the doubt." She ended looking down. She half expected him to throw her across the room and begin his trademark ranting and raving but he remained in his place. Not even scornful laughter escaped his solitude as he took in what she said.
"And where is your mother now?" he asked. That was the problem with Vegeta.. She couldn't tell if his façade of concern was genuine or if he was merely setting a trap for her. Either way, she was at a loss for words. How exactly would you inform someone that you'd witnessed their father murdering your mother? It's not exactly much of a conversation starter. One way or another, Bulma knew she couldn't and most certainly wouldn't tell him that. She was sure it would only cause a fight and talking about her mother had already made her feel vulnerable. A fight was not something she could afford at the moment.
"She.. " she took in a deep breath, "she died. She got sick." She let a tear slide down her cheek. She didn't even fight it in order to appear strong infront of him. Between us.. it was the only time she refused to show emotion.. she cried a lot when she was alone.
She felt disgusted with her self. She had dishonored her mother's death with a sick, blatant lie. Looking up at Vegeta he looked as though he where either pissed off or hurt. She should've been able to decipher the two, seens how the latter had never been displayed before but in all honesty, she simply couldn't. Such a mystery this stone cold creature was. But something told her he knew of her deceitfulness but he made no direct reply about it, simply shaking his head at her and standing up. Giving her a displeased look, he abruptly stomped out of the tense room, leaving a flustered Bulma behind.
