Piccolo stood breathing deeply, the pain of the act made all to clear by the large beads of sweat that poured freely from his pores. Violet blood was dripping in small pools at his feet and if he didn't know any better he'd think he was already dead. The only thing keeping him standing and smirking was the fact that Zarbon was not fairing much better.

The blue henchman had reverted back to his fine-boned self after being beaten into lumps in his ultimate form. Both aliens were only standing of their own willPiccolo's will being to smear Zarbon into the earth; Zarbon's will to bend Piccolo to his pleasure.

"Well...are you beaten?" Zarbon's panted, a manic laugh just itching to escape him. He watched a trickle of blood leak from a fresh split along the Namek's cheekbone dribble to his chin.

"I'm not dead yet." Piccolo snapped, snarling purple tinted teeth.

Zarbon grinned and tensed in preparation to move. "So long as there is fight in you..." Zarbon yelled, throwing himself toward Piccolo with a speed the Namek was sure he had no energy left to achieve.

Barely dodging the coming alien, Piccolo's shoulder was clipped by the alien's weight and he spun heavily before landing on one knee. He glared up at Zarbon as he switched position to come back again. This time Piccolo gripped hold of the blue alien's leg and threw him face first into the earth before pinning him there and wrenching his arm behind his back.

Pain raced up Zarbon's arm from the elbow to the shoulder and then flared into his back as the Namek laid his weight on the bent limb. Zarbon growled and hissed into the earth, struggling against the Namek's superior weight without dislocating his shoulder in the process.

Piccolo leaned heavily on his enemy's elbow, satisfied at the pop and release as the bones disconnected. He was too distracted with his small victory to notice Zarbon's free hand coming around and aiming a ball of energy at his face.

The light connected with his skin, searing into his already tortured flesh and blowing him across the field where he fell into a preexisting crater. Piccolo struggled for breath and glared up out of the crater with his one good eye. Evil laughter was growing steadily stronger as its creator edged forward.

Piccolo lay still, slowing his pained breathing until it seemed he had fallen unconscious. Above him he watched with a slitted eye as Zarbon grinned gleefully down at him. The blue alien gripped his useless arm and wrenched it around until the bone snapped back into place. Pain blossomed on his face and Piccolo nearly grinned in satisfaction.

Zarbon slowly made his way down the crater's side, eyes trailing along Piccolo's beaten form. The Namek slowly lowered his ki, hoping to lure Zarbon in a false sense of victory. Before long the right hand of Freeza was towering over him, that same infuriating laugh trickling out of his throat.

"Ah, Piccolo, didn't I tell you what was going to happen after I've beaten you." Zarbon grinned, blood and saliva dribbled down his chin.

He crept forward and lowered to one knee beside Piccolo's prone form. It took all of Piccolo's reserve not to shy away as the alien trailed his fingers across the fresh cuts of his face. Zarbon continued to murmur random things and disgusting thoughts of what he would enjoy, Piccolo paid him little attention. Instead, the Namek lay prone and unmoving while his right handconveniently resting above his headtwitched unobtrusively until the first two digits rested just under his left antenna.

By the time Zarbon had stopped his manic banter, the first layer of an energy ball was sitting just under the skin of Piccolo's palm.

It was hard to concentrate on gathering energy discretely when Zarbon gripped a handful of his gi and ripped it away in a flurry of ribbons. Cold, ungentle hands roamed across Piccolo's torso while the Namek lay in indifference, the alien's actions only serving to increase the importance of his secret energy gathering.

"Such a catch." Zarbon was muttering to himself. "To know I can beat you nearly to death and you can heal without a regen tank."

Piccolo's fingers twitched, he couldn't hold the engergy for his blast secret much longer. It still needed to grow but his flesh could not contain it and to feign unconsciousness and let the energy grow enough for his kill...he would need to distract Zarbon.

The blue alien leaned forward as he felt Piccolo's ki grow slightly. He frowned as he watched, pressing his weight down on the fallen warrior and curling fingers into Piccolo's throat just in case.

"Wakey, wakey." Zarbon laughed, golden eyes narrowed as Piccolo's face twitched. He watched carefully as the Namek's good eye slowly opened. One ebony eye squinted blearily at him and Zarbon smiled ferally at him. "Welcome to the party, pet."

To his immense surprise, Piccolo didn't growl or fight him in any way, he did nothing. The Namek rolled his head to the side and back again and when his ebony eye met Zarbon's again it was a bit clearer than moments before.

"I've won, Piccolo." Zarbon sneered, tongue darting out to smooth across his lower lip. "You do understand what that means, don't you."

A pained sneer answered him, and Zarbon's skin tingled as he nipped at the bruised and abused flesh of Piccolo's neck. He waited for the revolted sniveling and disgusted growls and paused in confusion when Piccolo did neither.

Zarbon lifted his head and watched in amused satisfaction as Piccolo craned his neck to breech the gap between them. He grinned in delight at the play of disgust on Piccolo's face even as his body responded to his touch.

"Well, well...isn't this a surprise." Zarbon's grin widened and he lowered his head to run his tongue up Piccolo's neck. The Namek shuddered beneath him and a moment later a large green hand fisted in his hair.

Zarbon waited for Piccolo to wrench his head back and punch him in the face. The grip tightened marginally but his head was pulled back down into Piccolo's neck, not up. He should have wondered why Piccolo was so willing for his touch, especially since the Namek had nothing but revulsion for him before but his growing libido did not give him the grace to think of it.

He bit deeply into Piccolo's flesh, tasting the tang of Namekian blood on his tongue. He was just starting to enjoy his feasting of flesh when the hand in his hair tightened again and pulled him back enough to look Piccolo in the eye.

"I have something for you." Piccolo rasped out, a twitching smile on his face.

Zarbon's eyes sparkled and he grinned, lapping a dry trail of blood from Piccolo's chin before answering him. "And what is that, my pet?"

The unfocused eye suddenly sharpened and the flickering smile turned into a snarl. "This."

Zarbon opened his mouth into a silent 'oh' as the blast of a special beam canon caught him between the eyes from only an inch away.

Piccolo closed his eyes to the harsh glare. When he opened them again only a handful of green hair was left twined in his fingers. Piccolo covered the bitten wound in his neck with his right hand and shivered. He rolled painfully over and retched brokenly into the dirt, the lingering feeling of the revolting alien's lips staining his skin.

He heaved his bulk from the crater twenty minutes later after gathering his strength and collapsed in the burnt grass. His last fleeting thought before darkness took him was of Legolas' satisfied face as pale beautiful features smiled happily at him, the ghost of a kiss touched his lips and Piccolo fell unconscious.

He woke cold on the plains hours later. The sun was just setting and darkness was spreading in thick layers in the sky. Piccolo took a long moment to gather his wits and remember where he was.

Grunting, he stood on quaking legs and huffed in the clean air. He could see the first fire lights of Gondor burning far in the distance. Purple tongue swollen in his mouth, Piccolo would rip off his arm for a mouthful of water. Unfortunately, there was no water near him and he had some distance to travel before he would make it to Gondor's heavy iron gates.

He walked slowly for ten minutes, his body slowly regenerating itself. He hadn't realized how much damage he had managed to take from Zarbon, but truth be told the alien had absolutely increased his power. Piccolo shivered, he didn't want to fathom how much further Freeza had come if Zarbon had improved so much.

Piccolo's pace slowed and he grimaced at how tired he was. What he needed most at the moment was a jug of water and a secluded spot to sleep for the next ten or so hours. He didn't dwell on it, instead ignoring any thoughts whatsoever and trekked toward the flickering lights of the city.

It had been thirty minutes, give or take a few, and as maddening as it seemed, Piccolo didn't feel any closer to Gondor's limits. The sky had darkened like heavy bruiseshe could appreciate the irony of the thoughtand with every long minute his body burned what bit of energy he had left. If he didn't make it to Gondor soon, he was afraid he would collapse in the fields. Then anything could get to him, things he would never fathom in his dreams.

He looked up again, Gondor still a shadow of building far away, and he stumbled. Cursing, Piccolo managed to gather his footing and continue. Now, every foot drug through the dry earth wasn't quite as long as the stride before, and before he could grunt his body was falling toward the earth. His eyes were falling closed as the ground rushed up at him, but he never felt the impact as he fell unconscious.


The battle to end the rush of orc beasts on the Port city hadn't taken as much effort as it had time. The ghosts of eons past were unable to be defeated; arrows, swords and fists could not touch their misty bodies. The Urak-hai had been too furious about not killing them to fear them as they should have. The lesser beasts knew better, fear an all too common part of their small mindset. Even with the saiyajins superior strength set free, Goku refused to let them use any ki force to attack the beasts. They were outnumbered as they were at Edoras, but they had no right to destroy all that lay around them just to slay the beasts that flowed in.

Vegeta had agreed with the third class's thoughts and so they fought with feet and fists, barely taking any damage and at the end of it all were bloody only from their enemies' entrails.

Now, as the dead lay teeming along the shores and the water ran black with orc blood, Aragorn had a creature pinned to the earth with his sword. "What is your intention coming here?" The anger was still sparked in the ranger's eyes, but his words were weary from long days travels and very little rest.

The creature gurgled and sneered before spitting a wad of bloody phlegm into the ranger's face. Aragorn scrubbed at his face with the back of his hand and growled in his throat. He lean lightly on the sword handle and the creature twitched before whimpering and moaning in the tongue of its brethren.

Vegeta had watched the exchange for nearly fifteen minutes, intrigued at the display of vehemence Aragorn had shown. Not once in their entire time together had Vegeta seen him so far out of character. As the creature's wailings dimmed again and it continued to mock Aragorn, the prince of all saiyajins had had about enough of the run around.

The poor orc had no idea what it had done when the saiyajin prince gripped it by the throat. Coal black saiyajin eyes bore into its own and the strong hand squeezed, effectively cutting off what little air it had been getting. "Listen to me, filth. I will not take your whimpering any more. You're going to answer his questions or I will make you feel pain like you have never felt in your entire pathetic life. And I promise to make it last." Vegeta sneered, fingers twitching tighter for emphasis.

It laughed. The sound was gurgling and raspy, but it was a laugh nonetheless. With a sneer of disgust, Vegeta's fingers pinched into the beasts windpipe and slowly he gathered ki at his fingertips. Blood and saliva frothed at the corners of its gaping mouth only seconds later, the stench of burning flesh quickly wafting the air. A shrill shriek of pain sliced into Vegeta's head and in anger he pushed the ki further until the skin under his fingers bubbled and clear fluid burst from the blisters.

"Well?" Vegeta snapped, fingers loosening marginally so that the beast could talk.

Aragorn glared at it, prepared to ask his question again but the creature began to stammer out an answer between pained sobs and weak moans of pain. "The ships! The ships..."

While Aragorn and Vegeta interrogated their captive, the others were helping aid the wounded. Many had died from the city, many more wounded. Women and their elder children bustled through the men laying about with bowls of water, rags and medicinal herbs.

Legolas was grinding a paste from the leaves given to him at his request. He could see Goku out of the corner of his eye as the large man tried his best to wrap up some of the worse wounds. The large saiyajin was such a paradox. He was naive and innocent part of the time, and the other part he was efficient and in control. The elf had to admit, however, that even he was being soothed by the quiet comforting tones Goku was using with the wounded. The slow, rich voice had a lulling effect. With a slight smile, Legolas thought of the children he had heard Goku speak of. It must have been useless to fight to stay awake with a voice like that telling bedtime stories.

"I'm leaving." The voice was out of the blue and surprising to both Goku and Gimli where they sat resting. Legolas looked up from his bowl and frowned thoughtfully.

Mirai looked at all of them and then turned beseeching eyes to Goku. "You said when this was over I could find Piccolo. So I'm going."

The large third class stood, clasping one large hand on Trunks' shoulder. "Go then. Take care of him, I think he might be roughed up a bit." A grim smile and short laugh followed before Goku looked out into the fields. "He won, I know that much. But I don't know how you'll find him."

Mirai nodded stiffly, already expecting as much. He too had felt the great surge of energy before Zarbon's life seemed to snuff out. He shouldered his pack and walked away from the injured groups of people. He didn't want to take off in the middle of them and stir up all the dust and debris.

A stern hand on his elbow stopped him before he could clear the last of the laying bodies and Mirai turned curious blue eyes on his pursuer. Legolas was looking back at him with cool detachment, but just under the settled features, Mirai could see the muscles of his face ticking as they fought off a deep frown. "Yes, Legolas?"

The elf paused before straightening himself to his full height and squaring his shoulders. At that moment, Trunks could see the regal elfin prince for the royalty that he was. Nobility and honor were etched into each feature on the elf's face and stature as he spoke calmly. "No matter how you find him, tell him I will see him soon. On this plain or another."

Mirai nodded slowly, face hardening. He'd forgotten there was something between Legolas and Piccolo. He had noticed it before, certainly, but Piccolo was reserved when it came to displays of affection. He would find the Namek, and if he had to, he'd keep him alive long enough for him to see Legolas again. Who knew what it was exactly the Namek and Elf had together, but it must have been something big enough for Piccolo to mark Legolas, and Legolas to ache for him. Trunks could see that, hidden deep in the elf's eyes where he was sure Legolas hoped no one saw it.

"Of course."

Legolas nodded and Mirai was gone.

The travel over the plains was fast and furious. Forebodding clouds were moving in overhead to blot out the starlight, and with them came an intense cold. Mirai stayed focused on Piccolo's ki. It wasn't strong, but it was steady.

He found him, twenty minutes later, laying in the earth.

Trunks landed and ran to him, falling to his knees beside him and checking for any outstanding injuries before he tried to move him. The Namek was banged up well enough. Bruises, gashes, dried blood all covered him from head to toe and Trunks was having a hard time telling where one wound ended and another began.

He rested a hand on Piccolo's shoulder and grapsed the wrist with his free hand. Mirai pulled the dead weight until he had Piccolo partly propped up with his arm over his shoulders. He stood with a grunt, barely lifting Piccolo's torso from the earth.

Jumping to super saiyajin, Trunks hefted the rest of Piccolo's weight up and held the Namek up by grasping hold of his belt. Sharp eyes trailed the distant line of mountains until they rested on the lights of a city. With a nod to himself, Trunks took to the air again, this time moving at a slower pace for fear of hurting Piccolo further.

They had barely reached the outer gates when Piccolo stirred and stiffened. Mirai looked over and caught the blurry onyx eyes of the Namek as he tried in vain to clear them. "Trunks?"

The demi smiled and nodded. "Yea, Piccolo, it's me." They landed outside the wrought iron and Trunks bellowed up the side of the wall at the guard on the top who only gaped down at them before yelling for his commander.

"Whawhat are you doing?" Piccolo blinked, trying to stave off the blackness that was creeping back into his vision.

"I'm here to help you." The demi-saiyajin smiled lightly, shifting his weight to keep Piccolo from collapsing to the ground.

A ruckus could be heard just inside the gate before the sound of Gandalf's highly agitated voice made it to their ears. "Out of the way you fools, open the gate. Quickly."

The iron groaned on its great hinges and Piccolo grinned weakly as Pippin bounded forward and grasped hold of him as though to help.

"How are you, Master Namek?" Gandalf asked quietly, eyes trailing over the vast injuries while he helped Trunks move Piccolo through then entry.

Piccolo heard the iron gates thud shut solidly behind him and blinked his eyes to try and clear them again. "I've been worse."

"And the creature?"

"Dead." Piccolo's stomach clenched and he bent as though to vomit but nothing came of it. The others looked at him in curiosity and worry. The Namek shook his head at Mirai's questioning look and straightened as best he could.

The wizard frowned, then snorted. "Come along then, I have a room for you to recover in."

The trek up the hundreds of stone stairs into the tower of Gondor's castle took a long time. By the time they had reached Piccolo's quartersa small room off of Gandalf's ownthe Namek was gasping ragidly for breath and blinking spots of black from his eyes.

Mirai lowered him to the cot and stretched his aching back. Piccolo was, after all, a very large creature. He saw tension grip Piccolo's body as it tried to relax only to stop violently as broken pieces of his body rebelled.

Pippin appeared by his side with a jug of water. The Namek offered him an exhausted smirk and took a sloppy drink before he fell back into the bed, eyes already closed. The Hobbit looked proud for a moment before excusing himself, leaving Trunks alone with the dozing Namek.

Mirai knelt beside him and spoke softly, "Legolas said"

"Leg'las?" Piccolo mumbled, eyes rolling in his head as he struggled to wake enough to listen.

Trunks smiled softly at the quick turn-around the elf's name brought. "Yea, Legolas. He wanted me to tell you that he'd see you soon."

"Soon." Piccolo murmured, the corners of his mouth quirking ever-so-slightly.

The Namek's eyes were closed and his breathing was slow and shallow. Mirai watched him for a few minutes, already seeing some of the lighter bruises fade ever so slightly. He was sure Piccolo wouldn't feel one hundred percent for at least a day yet, but he would function well without anything broken by midday tomorrow.

With a final look over his shoulder at the sleeping form, Trunks exited the room and sat down before the fire in Gandalf's sitting room. All the thoughts of elves made him think of the two he had left behind as well. He idly wondered when he would see them again, or if he even would at all.


Thanks to reviewers, Love you all! Hope your days are great!

Nnif -.-