Stolen Hearts Chapter Six
The past two weeks has been agonizingly unbearable. Just when Bulma was assured things couldn't possibly be any worse, it started to rain. She was practically a slave here! The things that sententious witch expected her to do were atrocious! If she has to clean the kitchen one more time she would die! Who knew what was left of the chicken was so horrid?
And Bulma could certainly stand no more of the harsh words constantly lashing at her like a whip, if she didn't know better she would have to say dear old Grandmother was enjoying this, enjoying seeing Bulma in pain, the woman's beady eyes glinting with satisfaction at her distress. At least Bulma was too busy to think much of her misfortune; this cottage must be the cleanest house in the entire wide world. Not one particle of dust offends its corners.
Grandmother seemed even more ardent that her granddaughter achieve Zeladonii then even her parents. It would seem that she wanted to have the recognition of being able to bring Bulma to that level, the girl who couldn't get anything right. It has become a personal crusade of hers and Bulma's lessons have left her both physically and mentally exhausted.
But good news had come today; Bulma would be allowed to return home from this revolting jail in three days time. She never though she would be so glad to go back to that place, but after an extended amount of time with her fascist dictator of a relative, anywhere looked good.
"Now, here is a list of the exact flowers and plants I need. I trust you know them by now. I expect no less then perfection, do you understand me? I won't accept another failure from you girl you've been allowed too many as it is," she said as if they were marks in a game, "I'm not like those push-over parents of yours. I'll let them know your work isn't finished here and you'll have to stay. I swear I will. If it were me raising you, you'd be straightened out by now. Nothing a little hard work won't cure; those hands of yours aren't nearly calloused enough. If only you could be more like your sister Camilla. It's a shame."
Bulma felt her throat tighten and her eyes sting. 'No, I have lasted this long without giving her the satisfaction of seeing me break down, I will not start today,' she told herself, but it was easier said then done. She knew the 'shame' was not that she was unlike Camilla, but that Camilla was dead and she alive. Everyone thought this yes, but that was the closest anyone had ever come to saying it to her face. That she should have been the one to die not Camilla, or Psyche and Nisus for that matter.
"Yes grandmother, I will not fail you," Bulma replied impassively as she hurried to escape those harsh unrelenting eyes that screamed of disappointment.
Why...
Why...
Tears blurred her vision and she broke into a run, not knowing where she was going and not caring. She didn't know what half the things on that list were and she sure as hell was never going to find them. She ran, and ran, time blurring away, just the burning in her legs and in her heart was real.
"Why couldn't it have been me?!" Bulma screamed to the sky as she tumbled down to her knees unable to go any further. It wasn't like she could escape what she was fleeing from anyway.
"Why!!" the word constantly choked through her sobs.
Gods know she wished the same as the others did, maybe in her death her life would mean something. If only she could give them back their beloved children they deserved, not a mistake like her. She didn't deserve life..she was a hopeless purposeless wraith cursed to rain sorrow upon this earth. If only she could make them happy, happy the way they once were in the days of her youth. She would do anything to earn a smile from her parents, but she had already ruined that by simply existing and being a constant reminder of what could have been. It was all gone now.
She was crying too hard to realize the approach of the vile creatures. They heard he wails and came to see what had blundered into their land and if it was good to eat. They were a clan of Trolls, ruthless and irritable by nature. Trolls are not especially intelligent and are often associated with rock or stone. They are tough ugly creatures with tough rock like skin and have the power to regenerate even if hacked apart. The only way to stop a Troll from regenerating is burning the monster.
Trolls diet is unusual, as they will eat anything including metal, bone, wood & rocks. The stomachs of trolls contain very powerful digestive acids, this has led them to an unpleasant form of attack of vomiting over their target; an extremely painful attack. Sometimes Trolls use basic hand weapons such as clubs or large stones. This group was not looking for anything in particular; they had just consumed a whole side of a mountain this morning and were spending the afternoon digesting.
It is for this reason that Bulma was not killed right away. Instead they were curious and took the time to look at the strange creature they had come across; they were in a rare playful mood.
She would never know of her luck, she was too consumed with sorrow to see anything hopeful happening to her, she only knew that there were monsters and how unfortunate for her too come across them, as always.
"Uragah, yes, it is a pretty thin isn't it? Grand pretty, yes?"
"Looks good enough to eat, yes, does pretty taste good?"
"No, Crog not hungry now. Can't just eat such pretty, want to play. Nrag. Look at its head, Crog never seen such a head, we keep it around to look at, yes. Our Queen yes yes! Gragrararararara!"
"Yes yes, Gragragragragra!," chanted the others stupidly, they did not really understand the concept of having a Queen, but it sounded grand and this pretty thing look grand so it must be some sort of possession to brag about, Troll were always concerned about being the best.
Bulma stared horrified at the hideous fiends' laughing manically in front of her. If you could call it a laugh, maybe it was some sort of rally grunt that they started up when successful. There were so many! Where had they all come from? Had she been that out of it? To miss that awful stench that hovered around them she must have been dead.
She scooted instinctively backwards as best she could, but she was partially paralyzed from being this close to the monstrous Trolls. Yes they weren't large, but they were so horrible to look at it made her faint. Is this the death she had wished for? Had the Gods finally answered her?
'No,' she thought as panic laced with bravery surged through her body, 'No, I am not afraid, not like this no, I don't want to die; I don't know what I'm doing in this life but I don't want death, no!' As a cold rough hand enclosed around her ankle, her thoughts came bursting out in a scream that made the earth tremble.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"
It shocked the beasts enough for them to take a leap away with the commanding tone the voice held. They sat stupidly wondering if this blue winged creature was some forest goddess ready to shoot lightening at them from her eyes, but they were soon back upon her realizing she posed no threat. Their countless unkind hands were harshly gripping at her none to gently, the sharp point of their razor claws pushing into her skin.
"AAAAH, NO! GET AWAY YOU BEASTLY..BEASTS! AWAY! OH GODS HELP!!" she cried in a frenzied anguish as she flung about hopelessly trying to escape those claws, not feeling much pain from their punctures in her adrenaline craze. They were half dragging half pushing her along, off to some deep dark pit filled of their awful stench no doubt. Bulma's attacks began to lessen in despair.
Although the Princess (soon to be Troll Queen) did land quite a few well placed hits, it was clear the Trolls were not giving up and that she was no match for their numbers.
But then, there was a strange sound, then again, and again. It wasn't until Bulma found the courage to open her eyes that she saw it was the sound of Troll's being beheaded. They took up yells and yammering, howls and curses, and shrieking that were beyond description. Several hundred wildcats and wolves being roasted alive could not have compared to it.
A strong voice rose above it all. Bulma could not see who it belonged to for she had shut her eyes again at the horrid sight of a headless Troll, not so much from fear, but from the pure ugliness of it.
"Silence you brainless beasts! You asked for this, you know I am the sole rule in this forest and all in it belongs to me! So run along to your hateful knaves, unless of course you think you would look better without a head."
"Your mother is a Fragged ardrvark!" one boldly declared only to be missing his head a heartbeat later.
"Any other objections?"
"No, no black death, a thousand apologies for the trespasses..we grovel sir, grovel at your feet, oh great one, don't want to hurt little us, mercy, Mercy!" they said and scampered off not trusting to be entitled to their heads in a moments time.
Vegeta frowned at their retreating forms.
"And I was just starting to have fun," He murmured to himself
Per yelped in agreement. It was rare he passed up a chance to pester Trolls and a large group of particularly troublesome ones were known to reside in this area, so when they had heard the screams Vegeta could hardly keep up with him as he raced to investigate.
But Vegeta never expected the screams to be coming from her.
Vegeta at once recognized the beautiful Faerie from their previous encounter and a strange fury of protectiveness rose within him that he didn't understand, nor stoped to question at the time. Only viciously reacting with his gut, leaving about a dozen dead Trolls, and Per was happy to assist in crushing another half.
Now we have to understand something. It may be confusing why a seemingly ruthless killer like Vegeta would care enough to save some one, but he was constantly fighting an inner battle. He did believe in using might for right, but it conflicted horribly with his nature. He didn't think he should help her, but he had to.
It was the bad people that need principles to restrain them. In the secret parts of his peculiar brain, those unhappy and inextricable tangles which he felt at the roots, that he was disabled by something which cannot be explained. Perhaps it was nature, perhaps it was fate, but underneath that beautiful magnificent shell there was only shame and self-loathing that was planted there when he was tiny. He thought himself ugly. It is so fatally easy to make children believe they are horrible.
He slowly turned to look upon the Princess, he didn't think she would be handling this well since she certainly wouldn't be used to the situation considering her sheltered lifestyle.
To his surprise she wasn't shaking or crying, just squeezing her eyes shut as if hoping for it all to disappear, but it all seemed to hang on a very slight edge.
"Oh what now? You are alive aren't you?" he said nastily for his inspection had shown him that she was about to cry and if he spoke in a kind voice she would break down and do it.
It worked. She no longer wanted to cry, she wanted to kick whoever dare speak to her in such a tone.
Bulma raised her head fiercely to see who had saved her, and to see if it was worse then a Troll. And it was. By far.
"You!!" Bulma said, the word rich with surprised contempt.
"Surprised? Now Princess, it's not very becoming to lie on the ground like that with your dress torn to shreds pouting. Get up, you are fine..thanks to me," he finished superciliously.
"Thanks to you?!" her blue eyes flamed with anger, "I would rather give thanks to a Troll! You pompous prick! Whatever you are thinking about doing to me in that barbaric LITTLE mind of yours, you can forget it. I do NOT belong to you!"
"Well you're very welcome," he said feigning injustice and regarded her bitterly as she stood, returning the look.
"It would've been a jolly good thing," she concluded, "If the Trolls had come and eaten YOU!" It was perhaps a little childish, but she was cheered by the vision.
"Stay away from me, you are never to lay and hand on me, do you hear?!" she said as she hurried away feeling very uncomfortable under his gaze, even though he made no move toward her. She could only imagine the sick and twisted ideas floating through his filthy Elvin mind.
Bulma couldn't help but let her overly adrenaline charged brain fill with a mixture of outrage and panic, as she was not in the most stable mind set right now.
Vegeta was amused and decided it would be quite entertaining to see what she would do if he actually did pursue her, so her leapt forward massively in a mock attack.
Unfortunately Bulma had reached the precipice of a short but steep hill at that precise moment, and her evasive maneuver sent her tumbling down landing with a sickening snap at the bottom.
She lay dazed in pain where she fell, not wanting to move, not wanting to know what had snapped.
Vegeta jumped easily down the embankment, silently chastising himself, though he would never admit to feeling worried. Why had she bewitched him into giving a shit? It was so very tedious.
"Are you alright?" Vegeta asked wondering why that came out of his mouth.
"What do you think idiot?" Bulma moaned surprised at the amount of anger she could muster.
"Well I'd help, but I've been ordered not to lay a hand on you."
"Bastard," Bulma groaned as she sat up, looking quite frazzled from her recent fall and Troll attack.
She was bleeding and bruised almost everywhere, her dress was ripped horribly beyond repair, and not one strand of her defiant hair was in place. She was losing the will to be angry through her pain, and now she just felt miserable and alone. She had run so far in her previous heartbreak that she had no idea where she was.
'Great, lost and broken with a murderous Elf,' she thought morosely, 'As if my life couldn't get any worse.'
His words broke her tangled thoughts, "What do you see in my eyes?"
Bulma was taken aback by the sudden question; it was almost seemed he was worried. She complied, too confused to object. There was a shield, his face was a face that could be easily lifted and used as a mask of indifference at a stoic's convention.
"Well?"
"Nothing!" she yelled frustrated, "But that doesn't mean there isn't anything to see!"
He seemed satisfied with her answer, but slightly uneasy for a moment before he regained his calm.
Vegeta didn't want her to know he cared. She already didn't seem to fear him, so he couldn't possibly have her thinking that he wouldn't just leave her ass right here for the Trolls to devour.
"I'm cursed," she grumbled forlornly, feeling the pain throb through her.
"Well you are certainly clumsy enough to make one believe so, but it could be worse. Your ankle is broken, so you're not going to be able to carry yourself anywhere. There is nothing for miles do you realize that? Now I'm willing to be the bigger person and put aside my past beliefs and personal dislike for you," he smirked as that earned a glare but she remained silent, "And help someone as distressed as you. I will take you wherever you wish, under one condition."
"What," Bulma said nervous, but never stopping her hateful glare.
"You apologize," He said mockingly with an evil grin," My feelings are quite hurt."
Vegeta had taken due notice of the wayward Princess's unruly pride and knew nothing would upset her more. Little did she know that the thought of carrying her in his arms and feeling her close to him again was actually exciting the emotionless killer. He mused at the fact as she steamed, bubbled, and boiled over.
"Are you serious? Never!" she barked. Sure the situation was serious, but it wasn't THAT serious. She could drag herself somewhere!
"Fine then, I hope the Trolls don't come back any time soon. But I guess you think they are better then me anyway. More then just Trolls come out at night though," Vegeta continued evilly, leaning in close, "and they are much, much worse." Vegeta finished smugly with a wicked smile as he rose to walk away.
Bulma considered this as she reluctantly watched his retreating form. She always had an over active imagination anyway and her recent encounter with the disgusting Trolls was not helping.
"Wait, wait!" Bulma called exasperatedly. She took a deep breath and looked upwards, "Ok fine, you win, I'm sorry."
"Aw, now, didn't that feel good?" he said with such a disgusting arrogance that Bulma couldn't stand it anymore.
'To hell with it, I'd rather been devoured by monsters then lower myself to this jerk!' she thought defiantly.
"I'm sorry you're so ugly!"
To her shock he wasn't angry, he, he burst into laughter. Was he mocking her?
"You surprise me Princess, pleasantly. I would have been horribly disappointed if you had caved that easy," he said smoothly as he stooped and pulled her carefully into his arms.
"What..what are you doing?" Bulma stammered, she felt awkward but safe in his strong arms. She had to cling to his neck to steady herself. He smelled delicious.
"Well, what did you expect? Me to wave my hands over you and have you magically transported? I posses no such magic Princess, we have to do this the old fashioned way. Now where do I have to lug your fat carcass to, I'd like to get this over with as soon as possible. Thank heavens its cooler then last week."
Bulma made some unintelligible sounds or rage, the only thing Vegeta could make out was something about scratching his eyes out when she was well.
"Sounds promising," he said with a slight glimmer of a smile.
"You cretin! I'm NOT fat!" she finally managed to form a coherent sentence, "Your dragon is fat!"
Per gave her an indignant hiss.
"Ha, indeed, but it's from eating maidens like you, so I'd be careful and show some respect if I were you."
Per looked approvingly at Vegeta.
"Well you're not, thank god for that," Bulma said, "No respect there."
Per looked at Vegeta.
"Yes thank god for that," Vegeta said.
Per made a gurgling sound that resembled a laugh.
Bulma hissed.
Vegeta glared.
Per gurgled.
And so the small circus was a unity, Bulma not wanting to be helped but having no choice, Vegeta not wanting to help but having no choice. They were bound together by the link of pain to which they both agreed without question.
And Per gurgled.
AN: So what are these two in for? Hmmm….Review please and thank you !