In the Orthanc of Isengard, Saruman scowled as he glared into the seer's globe. Freeza stood on the balcony off of the wizard's room with Zarbon at his side. The effeminate face was turned down at the gathering troops below.
"Pathetic." Freeza spat. His tail pounded the granite beneath his feet, jostling the entire terrace and knocking blocks free. Zarbon frowned down with his lord, curling his nose in distaste.
"I agree. You think they would at least bathe." Zarbon twitched his ponytail off of his shoulder and grimaced as he watched the filthy orcs pushing against each other.
Freeza shot his right hand a disbelieving look and snorted. "I was talking about their skill. The only thing they're good for is cannon fodder." Zarbon shrugged and stepped back from the balcony.
A heavy door thumped open from behind and Saruman appeared behind them in the entry. Zarbon dipped his head in acknowledgement. "We should be expecting company soon." The wizard's face soured further as he peered at the back of Freeza's head. His unexpected guests had done nothing but belittle every move he had made and all the tactics he had conjured.
Freeza didn't bother to turn to face the man and instead pointed down at the throng of beasts below. "How intuitive, there he is now on a horse." Freeza turned on his heel and grinned before an evil cackle fell from his lips. "A horse."
Saruman frowned, "We are not all so fortunate to be able to fly."
Another indignant snort was his answer and Freeza stalked beyond him, pushing Saruman from his way as he went. Zarbon trailed along after, not bothering to see if the wizard was alright.
They were all seated in a darkened room when Grima Wormtongue finally burst through the doors and collapsed to his knees already babbling apologies and cursing all the life on Middle Earth. When the greasy man finally looked up he stopped short with a small strangled noise in his throat.
Saruman stood before him, a look of such rage on his face that the man was sure the wizard was going to flay him for meat to give to the troops. The first hit came expected but he was still entirely blindsided. Wormtongue flew backward several feet, landing heavily on his tailbone and cracking his elbow against the door jam. "Please, milord!"
The staff swung, only an arching white blur before it connected soundly to the side of his face. He felt a two tooth shatter and several others grind as he bit down. "Fool!" All the pent up anger and frustration of days passed and dealing with two arrogant creatures that were far too strong to discipline as they drove him crazy, all off it was poured into that one word. Candles around the room went out as a harsh frigid wind blew through. The ceiling shaking and cracks crept up the walls.
Saruman stood, gasping for air as his body trembled in rage. Grima got to his knees, bent over double and pressed his forehead to the cold marble, mumbling words of atonement as blood poured from his mouth in watery strands.
There was a deep sigh from above and a mirthless chuckle from somewhere in the depths of the room and Wormtongue looked up cautiously. Saruman pinched the bridge of his nose and turned in a flourish, striding deeper into the room and raised is hand. The candles all flickered and caught, the room brightened marginally but enough so that the bleeding mass on the floor could see a cold white beast curled on a small sofa gazing at him with hard eyes.
Grima scurried backward as a light green skinned man came from the shadows toward him. Blood smeared across the floor as he backpedaled through it. "What is with all you people? Haven't you created soap yet on this disgusting ball of muck?" Zarbon scowled and stepped away from the man sprawled along the tile.
Saruman gave the alien a weary look before looking down his nose at his servant still lying on the floor. "You had best have something useful to tell me."
Wormtongue ignored the others, his only allegiance to Lord Saruman and their Lord Sauron. "Of course, my lord, whatever you would ask of me." He collected himself from the stones and cringed as the wizard held out a hand to him, a blink later he realized Saruman held out to him a scrap of cloth and he took it with shaking hands and began to clean his face. He tried not to wince as he dabbed at his swelling lip.
"They will move the people to Helm's Deep. It will be slow and tedious. They will be traveling with women and children, and the old." Wormtongue dared to glance up at his Lord and was relieved to see that the wizard was quirking a small smile.
"Then we shall have to bring the war to them." A malicious grin spread across the man's weathered face and Grima felt better just seeing it.
"But the fortress is impenetrable. It would take hundreds, thousands for such a feat."
There was a suppressed chuckle and Saruman stepped forward a hand held at Wormtongue's elbow drew him forward beside him. There was a roar below them and Grima gripped the guardrail in shock. Below him were hundreds of thousands of orc and Urak-hai beasts in armor.
"But how…" Grima's mouth fell open, a dribble of crimson tinted saliva trailing his chin.
There was a snort of laughter behind him and Grima turned, nearly stumbling back and would have fallen off of the balcony had there not been a railing. Saruman turned as well, scowling down at the little man before them.
"Those freaks down there aren't going to do you any good." Freeza peered beyond them at the hordes of orc.
Grima gaped as Saruman only bit the inside of his cheek. "I ensure you, Lord Freeza, that they are quite capable of destruction."
There was another scoff and Freeza turned his frosty gaze from the troops to Saruman. "And here I thought you wanted to win a war." Freeza turned on his heel and walked calmly into the far room again, his tail swaying behind him. Saruman opened his mouth, ready to refute the creature's remarks when Freeza paused and looked over his shoulder. "When you're ready to talk real business, you know where we'll be."
The door thumped shut behind the Icejin and Grima barely had time to duck as Saruman swung his staff around and pointed it where the beast had been standing. With a frustrated growl, the wizard spoke an incantation and blasted the door in his way to splinters before stalking off and down into his lower labs.
---
Trunks was gazing off into the distance, up long before the sun rose, unable to sleep as a creeping sense of dread had been washing his spine in ice for nearly an hour now. He had gone down and eaten in the kitchen with the staff there. The morning meal was just getting started but they were able to find him much of last night's extras that Trunks' obligingly took to a nearby empty counter. They had been more than happy to serve him and let him sit in silence as he brooded and munched.
Now back in his quarters, he leaned into the balcony and bore holes into the lightening sky. He curled his nose at the twists of lemon and pink tinting the horizon, far too cheerful for the foreboding that was latched onto his mind.
He felt he should leave soon, the sooner the better, but he didn't want to leave without seeing his mother first. With his destination in mind, the demi saiyajin paused to pick up his sword and slung it across his shoulders and sighed at the rumpled and sleep creased clothes he wore. He tugged at the hem of his black muscle shirt, trying to stretch out the wrinkles and actually had a bit of luck. He snorted at his reflection, if only getting the worry lines out of his face could be that easy.
The halls were still empty, and the clipping of his feet on the tile echoed dully along the walls. He hadn't passed a single person as he knocked lightly on his mother's door. There was an incoherent mumble that he recognized from years of his childhood and he couldn't repress the grin on his face. He pushed the door open and peeked in, seeing his mother trying to sit up among the pillows, rubbing the sleep from her face with an open palm.
"Trunks?" She yawned and favored him with a sleepy smile.
Mirai stepped in and shut the door behind him. He paced to the bed and sat on the edge. "Morning. I didn't want to wake you, but I wanted to say goodbye before I just took off." Bulma smiled and patted his cheek.
"Thank you, Mirai. I'm glad you did." She stretched and started to get up but Trunks held up a hand.
"You were up too late. Go back to sleep. The sun's just barely come up." He stood and smiled down at her as she pressed back in the blankets with a contented sigh. Bulma was already asleep again when Mirai pressed a kiss to her forehead and left.
He had made it as far as the main entrance before Lord Elrond stopped him, trailed by his two sons. In one hand was clutched something long and thin, wrapped tightly in black leather; the other held a satchel. Lord Elrond held them both out to him, and Trunks took them both gingerly.
"The case is for you, it has supplies and food you may need. This is for Estel, you will know who he is when the time comes for it." Elrond paused a moment and simply stared at the lilac haired young man before him. "I do not know why you and your friends have managed to come to this place at such a chaotic time, but I feel that we need you all now more than ever."
Mirai dipped his head, it was true enough, but the only reason they were needed really was because they wound up dragging Freeza with them. Would it have been so different if the Icejin had not come? What if the Bulma of his time, his own mother, had not died so soon? Would he even be here to help them?
When Trunks finally broke free of the morbid thoughts, he blinked and was caught by two sets of steely stares. The twins both were boring holes into him as he stood. "We are going with you." Before Mirai could drop his mouth open to protest, Elrohir held up a hand. "There are elves from the other regions going as well, the time of war is falling onto our shoulders now."
The stern features of his warrior face fell into place and Trunks stood, scowling with inherited arrogance, at nothing in particular. "I can't carry you both."
A flicker of confusion went across the faces of the three elves before him. Finally, Elladan spoke. "You would not need to, there are horses here that would do the same."
"That's not…I…never mind." Trunks' scowl hardened. He had intended to fly off as fast as he could toward his father's ki signature, but it didn't seem like that was going to happen.
Lord Elrond seemed to sense the boy's distress and set a hand on his shoulder. "I assure you that you will reach your friends in time. Take heart." After a moment of strained silence, Trunks let out a troubled sigh and nodded, pushing hair from his face.
"Alright. I don't have any reason not to trust you." He gave them a weak smile. Elrond stood in the entrance and watched as the three moved down the stairs toward the pathways that would lead them to the stables. Trunks turned and grinned up at him. "Take good care of my mother."
Elrond nodded, a small smile curling his lips. "Of course."
"I know you will." Trunks winked at him and continued, picking up the pace slightly to catch up with the twins who were now far ahead of him.
Lord Elrond was rooted, staring at the back of Mirai's head before clearing his thoughts and walking back into the hall.
---
The plains were hot. Morning had barely begun and already both saiyajins and their green friend were sweating and growing increasingly irritable. Of course Goku had the ingenious idea of removing his tunic so that he could let the rare wind blow across him. The taller saiyajin had either ignored the looks he was continually getting or was completely oblivious. It was most likely the latter. This new predicament of course did not help Vegeta's comfort level at all, in fact seemed to add to his dilemma. The prince had attempted not to stare at his counterpart and began to force his eyes to roam across the wilds, of course when they had settled on Piccolo and the Namek had been grinning at him it was the last straw and he turned violently to keep from leaping on the alien and beating him into the dusty earth. However, after his spin he nearly tripped over someone beside him and barreled headfirst into Goku's side.
Both saiyajins fell to the ground with a grunt, Goku getting filthy as his sweat covered back picked up the dust and dried grasses, and Vegeta blushing, a deep scarlet that he refused to acknowledge, as he climbed off of the younger when an insatiable urge to lick a bead of sweat from the man's neck leapt into his mind. Of course the little groan from Goku—which was most likely from landing on a good sized rock—did nothing to stop his mind from connecting it to several sexual things that would bring out bigger and better sounds than that.
After gaining his footing Vegeta stalked off quickly. Goku rose from the earth, scratching the back of his head in wonderment hoping that Vegeta was okay, he did seem rather grumpy today. A horse paused beside him and Goku glanced up, catching Aragorn's silhouette in the sunlight. "Are you alright?"
"Sure. I've taken a lot worse than a tumble." Goku beamed up at him and Aragorn smiled, moving on ahead. It was apparent that Vegeta was now trying to avoid him, so Goku shrugged and waited for Piccolo's loping gait to bring the alien to him. "Hey, Piccolo!"
The Namek cast Goku a weary look. They walked along, their larger strides had them passing people with ease and silence settled between them. Goku sighed deeply several times, glancing sideways at his traveling companion. Piccolo refrained from rolling his eyes.
"What is it, Goku?"
The saiyajin's eyes widened, "Huh? Oh, it's nothing."
It took a whole of three minutes before Goku sighed deeply again. Piccolo scowled at the back of his spiky head. "What?!"
"It's just…" Goku looked over his shoulder at his friend and Piccolo noticed the deep coloring of the saiyajin's cheeks.
"If it has something to do with sex between you and Vegeta, I'd prefer not to know." Piccolo kept walking even as Goku nearly fell over from shock.
A nervous peal of laughter came as a belated reply and Piccolo was torn between smirking and gagging. He settled for a grunt as Goku quickly shuffled back to his side. Apparently whatever had been on Goku's mind was either forgotten or ignored as he walked in a somber mood.
"I've been thinking…" Piccolo shot Goku a wary glance and took a heavy draught from his water bladder as he listened. "How can we beat Freeza?" The Icejin's name fell from Goku's lips like a curse. A small contemplative rumble sounded from Piccolo's chest and Goku waited patiently for the Namek's input.
"I'm not sure we can." Piccolo watched his feet as he thought, then looked up to see Goku's warrior face had fallen into place. The conversation left a tense and uncomfortable silence stretch, Goku watched Vegeta intensely; Piccolo gazed steadily at the natives of Middle Earth as they plodded on knowing that their death could be coming and totally oblivious to the bigger hell that decided to pop in for kicks.
Neither of the warriors noticed as Legolas caught up to them, walking a little behind, as they were tangled in their own thoughts. Goku turned to his long-time friend. "If for some reason I die here, I'd like you to look after Gohan for me."
Piccolo blinked at him and bowed his head, "He's a man now Goku, but you know I will, even if you never would have asked."
There was a meeting of mind between the two of them and Goku smiled softly at Piccolo for a moment and nodded. "I know. I'm proud of him, even if he still needs to be reassured now and then. He'll need someone that loves him." Goku plodded ahead, catching up with Vegeta.
Piccolo watched as Vegeta tensed and then relaxed as Goku stepped up and walked quietly with him. The taller saiyajin rested his hand on the back of Vegeta's neck; a small smirk flickered across Piccolo's face as he saw Vegeta start to growl until the prince saw the serious countenance of the only other pure blood. When Vegeta side-stepped nearer so that they walked only inches apart, a soft pang hit the Namek in the chest and he had to look away.
The sound of a familiar stride had Piccolo's stomach clench in nervous tension that he forcefully willed away. A moment later, Legolas' blonde head bobbed beside him. They had successfully avoided each other for the better part of the morning—or at least Piccolo had. He didn't know if the elf had searched him out during other times but he was careful to have another in his presence at least so that the uncomfortable topic of the night did not come up. Now however—with Gimli chatting away with the Lady Éowyn, Aragorn speaking quietly with Théoden and both saiyajins lost somewhere in the crowd—he was well and truly stuck.
Legolas was the first to break the uncomfortable silence. "Goku is preparing himself to die?"
Piccolo was torn between laughing in relief at the conversation and being angry at having been eavesdropped. "Yes."
The elf frowned, "So he is admitting defeat already?"
"Hardly." Piccolo wasn't sure why he was so angry, but he refused to believe it had anything to do with the unresolved issues from the night before. "He's being realistic."
Legolas narrowed his eyes at the clipped tone he was receiving. "Forgive me for finding your views faulty. I am sure thinking yourself already beaten will surely make you win." The sarcasm practically dripped at their feet and Piccolo took a deep breath through his nose to calm himself. It was he, after all, that had set the mood for the topic.
"Look, Goku isn't like that…" Piccolo struggled to find the right words but Legolas held up his hand.
"I understand. And I apologize for being irritable. It is only to see a warrior of his strength already succumbing to fate is disheartening." Piccolo nodded. The mood around them lightened considerably after that and the change of subject was welcomed. "Gohan is Goku's son?"
Piccolo couldn't help the smile that touched his lips. "Yes."
Legolas was gladdened at the sight and smiled in return. "He seems a happy memory for you."
"He is." Piccolo considered if he should continue and mentally shrugged. "I taught him to fight when he was a boy." Legolas watched as Piccolo's eyes sheered over with memory. "He drove me crazy, I'm actually surprised I didn't kill him." Legolas gaped at him and Piccolo let out a bark of laughter. Several of the people that had been walking near them were startled and gave them more space.
"Why would you jest with something so serious?"
"Because it's true." The smile slowly slipped from Piccolo's face. "I wasn't very heroic in those days."
The stifling silence returned with memories of Piccolo's shady past. It was quite a long time before he finally broke from it. "Is it always this hot?"
Legolas smirked. "It is not so bad." Piccolo cocked an eye ridge and favored the elf with an elbow that nearly tumbled him several feet into the clearing. Legolas returned to his side, laughing and rubbing at his bruising rib.
"I didn't realize you were so spleeny." Piccolo grinned, fangs glinting in the sunlight as Legolas scowled at him.
"You do not realize your own strength." When Piccolo shrugged, Legolas sighed, still unconsciously pressing at the sore tissue. "I pity the poor creature that takes your wrath."
"Right now, that would be you wouldn't it?" Piccolo graced him with another toothy leer and Legolas growled before leaping on him. Piccolo stumbled in surprise as the elf clung to his back like a monkey and attempted to strangle him. The elf was actually having success, cutting off some of his wind as he tried to grasp a hold of the blonde. Whenever he managed to get a handful of clothing or even a grip of flesh it was gone a second later as Legolas continued to flit about to keep from getting caught.
Piccolo was grinning like a cat and Legolas laughing like a madman when Aragorn finally got their attention by clearing his throat. He sat astride his horse and was trying his best not to let himself smile underneath his scowling mask. Piccolo had hold of Legolas' right leg and left arm, Legolas still had his strong fingers curled into his neck.
"If you two are quite finished we still have some distance to cover." Aragorn frowned at them, the corner of his mouth twitching as he struggled to keep his composure. Piccolo had the grace to feel foolish, never before allowing himself to become so unhinged and act like a child. A panting breath in his ear had him distracted soon enough as Legolas got his giggling under control.
The bass of Legolas' voice rumbled against Piccolo's back as the elf composed himself. "Of course, Estel." There was a moment without movement then a blanket of flaxen hair fell across Piccolo's face as Legolas turned his head to look at him. The silky tenor hummed softly into his ear, "I'm afraid you will have to release me, Master Namek." Piccolo suppressed a shiver and thanked Kami that he didn't blush as he let go of the elf and felt him slide from his shoulders to land softly beside him.
Aragorn rode ahead several feet before turning in his saddle. "I could use you eyes at the front, Legolas." The elf nodded and the ranger soon melded into the crowd.
Piccolo cleared his throat as they began moving again. They could see Aragorn already at the top of the next hill and heard him call down to the elf. Legolas picked up his pace and grinned as he called back over his shoulder, "We will have to settle this later," as he disappeared into the crowd.
Piccolo ignored many of the looks that he was given for the next ten minutes, normally he would have been immune to them but he couldn't help thinking that the humans weren't simply gawking because he was green anymore. There was a snort beside him and Piccolo looked down in surprise to see Vegeta at his side, Goku along as well.
There was a curious look twinkling in Vegeta's eye and Piccolo scowled at him. "Shut up, Vegeta." And stalked off further into the crowd. Goku scratched the back of his head.
"What was that all about?"
Vegeta smirked up at the younger saiyajin, "Nothing, Kakkarot." Goku looked puzzled as he gazed between Vegeta and the violet clad back of the Namek ahead of them, and then back again. He scratched his neck and sighed. His confusion forgotten a moment later as Vegeta walked just a little closer and Goku settled his palm against the curve of his Ouji's neck.
