IV. The Wedding
Lost and Fondness
Shades of Crimson
Wiping the sweat that had collected over his furrowed brow he continued with his one armed pushups.
His vision was beginning to become skewed with the combination of high temperatures, the heavy impact of the simulated gravity pressing upon his aching muscles, and the strain of hours of training ripping at his every limb.
However, he continued to push himself until he could physically not move. When this time came, he lay on his back against the stark training room's floor. His only exercise being the battle of his heaving chest over the impact of gravity. With each rising of the chest armor the chest and lungs beneath it fought for each intake of air.
This ship had been giving the Saiyan prince nothing but distractions, and he felt he owed it to his goals to spend the entire hours of the night doing nothing but pushing himself physically and mentally.
The harsh conditions and his will to continue had given him temporary releif of the thoughts constantly on his mind, but now, with his back against the cold floor and his dark eyes sliding shut, he was forced to remember.
Her.
He scowled at his lowly thoughts.
Over the last few days he had become quite fixated on their newly acquired blue haired shipmate. It angered him that she could be in his mind as such … for what right did she have to make the prince of all Saiyans think twice?
He growled.
She was beautiful - yes. Gorgeous even. That he could openly admit, for there was no denying that it was the truth. He, however, had had the chance to look upon the face of a beautiful woman before, many in fact, but he had never given any of these women before a second glace. Why was this minx so different?
He saw her face at random times when he didn't wish to, he was captivated by her scent, and enchanted by her proud words and immense knowledge of everything.
When he had taken the time to train her, he was fixated on her swift movements. Each limb that moved was delicate and precise. Like her training had been nothing more than a captivating dance. As if to lure her captor in if nothing more.
He hated that he had come to want everything about her. He wanted to see her, feel her, and smell her, and a low growl escaped his throat when he realized that he also wanted to taste her.
The Saiyan prince didn't take interest women. Never before, anyway. So why was she so different?
Raising himself off the floor, feeling altogether pathetic, he shut off the gravity of the ship and decided to catch whatever little amount of sleep was to be offered to him.
He shoved the thoughts of Bulma from his mind, reminding him that she was disrespectful and annoying, and trudged into his room to collapse onto his bed.
His dark eyes drowsily slid shut and sleep overcame his exhausted form.
The Great Hall of Planet Cold was now decorated in a strange array of whites and pearls, blacks and reds. There were flowers spread across the room and elaborate center pieces at every table.
The table count was many … for anyone who was deemed anyone had been invited to Freeza's grand party.
His only son's wedding.
The term wedding had become a sort of universal melting pot. It seemed that the universal wedding had became a bled of all cultures of this ceremony and had mixed into a combination of colors and music and customs.
Before the array of tables stood a moderately sized stage that was backed against a pair of elaborate curtains.
On the platform there was a small bowl with two ornate chalices positioned on either side of it, with a pair of pearl colored clothes draped over the goblets.
As the pair of Ice-jin suns began to rise over the horizon, the tables lining the hall began to fill and the single most important union in the universe.
She sunk lower into the bathwater, the high temperatures of the water and the steam rising from it turning he pallid flesh and rosy color.
As she sunk into the tub, the bubbles of her bath adjusted so that they were now covering her ample breasts with a layer of foam.
Being bored, again, and cursing herself for inviting the raven haired chef aboard, because she had taken her only friend that was available on the ship.
Yes. Kakerott and ChiChi were hitting it off quite nicely.
She blew a lock of azure hair away from her face with an annoyed puff, the corners of her mouth falling into a frown.
Bulma leaned back again into her tub, breathing in the scent of lavender that she had added to the steaming liquid, and smiled.
She wasn't really angry with the pair. They were cute beyond belief. And they hadn't actually asked for any alone time … she had just awarded it to them and scurried off to the seclusion of her tub.
At least in here she could escape the silent member of their crew … and his piercing glare and his perfect musculature and his exuding masculine persona.
She frowned at herself. Okay, perhaps even here she couldn't escape the thoughts of the dark and handsome Saiyan.
However, he wasn't the kind of man that she swooned over like she had done before with crushes. No. She felt that he had to be approached slowly.
She sighed, wondering if he could be approached at all.
Looking down at the bubbled covering her lean figure she smiled.
He would be a fool to turn her down!
However, as she sunk lower in the steaming water, she began to have doubts that such a proud man would ever be capable of accepting another. She doubted he would ever be more than an acquaintance to her.
Her aqua locks darkened as they were lowered into the liquid and she sighed against the lavender steam. One of her feet rose from the water to reveal the toes were beginning the shrivel. She frowned as she got out of the tub and decided on a glass of water and a glimpse into the prince's private training session.
She descended towards the stage, a lacey veil covered her face while pearl and crimson robes clad her petite form.
A pair of slippers scuffed silently against the crimson carpet as she made her way towards her future.
On the platform Prince Tien stood, adorning a set of crimson and pearl robes himself, and a content smile plastered across his features.
She took in a deep breath. Knowing that she was not ready to do this, but ready all the same.
Steading herself with each graceful step, she finally made it to the alter to stand beside her fiance.
With an intent look into her eyes, he gave her all the reasurance she needed.
She would, despite anything else, be safe with him.
She smiled.
And happy.
A man in pearl dress robes held the goblets up for the crowed seated to see, and speaking in a language that was foreign to Launch, but seemingly understood by Tien, he began the ceremony.
The navy haired princess found it strange that such a ceremony could be conducted in anything but the universal language. However, before she could register another spurt of babble, he switched into the language she was fluent in.
He handed Tien a knife, which he accepted.
Launch then took her cue and held her hand out flat above the cup the man in pearl robes was holding and smiled shakily at Tien.
The prince smiled, almost apologetically at her, and took the knife and gently sliced a small gash into her outstretched palm.
The princess turned her hand and allowed a few drops of the blood to fall into the gauntlet the other man was holding. Tien took this time to take one of the rags and gently wipe her hands clean of the blood.
Launch then took the knife and sliced Tien's hand, which he let drip into the other cup which was now being held by the ceremonial priest.
She gently wiped the crimson liquid from his tanned palm and kissed his outstretched hand with a smooth and tender peck.
When she pulled away, the priest handed the couple their own gauntlets. With a somber expression, he tied the stems of the extravagant cups with a scarlet ribbon and the pair swiftly exchanged chalices.
When they were holding the cup of their partner they sat them on the table and stepped away. The ceremonial undertaker said a few words and the couple joined hands - their slashed palms meeting at the engravings.
As they decended down the stairs, they paused, kissed, and exited as the crowed applauded their newest royal couple.
Once outside of the Grand Hall, Launch brought her hand to her mouth and attempted to sooth the pain throbbing there.
Tien, seemingly unaffected by his own gash, took his small bride in his arms and smiled as he felt her tiny form collapse into his broad chest.
And it was done.
The cool liquid met her lips and before she had a chance to swallow she was startled by the sound of the gravity chamber's door slamming closed.
When she looked up over her cup of water she was met with the perspiring, nearly naked Saiyan Prince.
She frowned as she noted his movements. They were slow and forced - as if his every muscle ached with soreness.
"You've pushed yourself too far."
"Leave me be woman."
She frowned at his retort. She, however, was not one to give into orders.
"Take a seat," she motioned the couch, "I'll be right with you."
He watched her swiftly depart and growled beneath his breath.
Wiping some of the sweat that had collected yet again on his furrowed brow, he complied and collapsed against the fabric of the couch.
His onyx eyes sliding shut, he could only admit to giving into her wishes because he was simply too exhausted to argue.
When she returned she had a few various items in her hand.
Vegeta shot her a questioning glance and she merely smiled at him, handing him a senzu bean.
"What is this?"
She smiled proudly at his weakly spoken question, "Take it, it will heal your injuries."
He frowned as he began to chew on the bean. However, he blinked when he began to feel the strain of his muscles lessen and some the contusions lining his broken form heal.
She took a seat behind him, he tensed as he noticed her bare legs were nearly brushing his own.
Opening a small bottle she poured some of the gel onto her palm and began to massage his rigid back muscles.
Bulma kneaded the soft, olive flesh of his shoulders and worked the oil into every crevice of his skin.
Vegeta, immediately shocked by her actions, began to relax. He had never been massaged before and the movement of her soft fingertips against his bareback were entirely foreign to him.
He, however, would not refuse. Her actions were reliving the tension in his back and her closeness was intensifying his yearning for her.
A satisfied smile grazed her features as she felt him relax against her touch, and with a small growl of what she could only decipher as pleasure, she continued.
When she stopped he turned himself to face her, their noses inches apart.
She smiled, "You push yourself too much Vegeta, you need to learn to loosen up."
His eyes remained emotionless. Yet as he inhaled her scent he could only register one thought.
He wanted her.
Her pink lips seemed to quiver as the second emotion he had ever shown her flashed across his onyx orbs.
Passion.
From what she had noticed, he was passionate with everything he did. His fighting was intense and his training fervent; his words short but held so much meaning behind them. She couldn't help but wonder if he would be as passionate a lover.
She began to subconsciously lean closer to him. As if his alluring, masculine persona was not only enticing her but entrancing her.
With a still brow he found one of the woman's thighs to be tucked beneath her and the other laying casually to her side, right beside his own, tattered in ripped spandex and dried blood.
She did not want him, he assured himself. Her lips parted and a lock of azure hair fell gently in front of her face.
Tucking the lock of hair behind her ear, he allowed his coarse palm to linger on the softness of her cheek.
Her eyes, large and cerulean, seemed blank and confused. He wondered if she were as confused as he was.
Vegeta pulled his hand away and then pulled himself up off the couch.
Watching him exit the common room of the ship, Bulma merely blinked. Her arms found their way to her shoulders, suddenly chilled by the absence of the warmth Vegeta had provided, and she distantly heard the clicking of his door against it's frame.
So he was gone.
She frowned.
He had just … left. Like that. Quickly, surely, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. But he had touched her, not causing her some spark or unworldly reaction, just a simple touch.
Yes she knew that she wanted to feel him against her skin again.
She closed her eyes at let her head fall against the couch, not wanting to join the raven haired girl now probably in a deep slumber in their bed.
"Sire, now that he is married does this mean you intend to pass the reigns onto him?"
Freeza's attention was turned to the man who had spoke.
The confinement of his private chambers, Zarbon questioned him.
He frowned, "Not exactly. You know I have every inention of making you emperor. I just need to find a way of doing so."
"I thought I was to marry Bulma."
Freeza rolled his eyes, "Yes, yes. That's the plan. But you know how she is. More than likely she will refuse. Unless she has sobered up after this little escapade she's pulling now, which is what I surely hope. However, she's too unpredictable."
"My brother Zachary," Zarbon began, "is quite fond of her. He may be upset with me if I chose to take her as my bride."
"This will all be settled when she is back, dear Zarbon." A smirked crossed his features, "For now, let us get back to the party to entertain our guests."
136 hits for Chapter 3 and 4 reviews?? Aw ... I'm hurt guys.
Haha - but a BIG thank you to everyone who did take the time to review!! The encouragement is much appreciated.
However, I have noticed that my chapters are quite short ... much shorter than the chapters I am used to writing. Would you guys like to see longer chapters with possible slower updates or does the content of the chapters not disappoint you??
Alright ... well ... I am looking forward to hearing for you all.
Until next time -
Crimson.