Stolen Hearts Chapter Eleven
Tonight is the night all the dragons
Awake in their lairs underground
To sing in cacophonous chorus
And fill the whole world with their sound.
They sing of their days of glory
The sing of their exploits of old
Of maidens and knight, and of fiery fights
And guarding vast catches of gold
Some of their voices are treble
And some of their voices are deep
But all of their voices are thunderous
And no one can get any sleep
I lie and I listen
Enchanted and filled with delight
To the songs I can hear only once a year
The dragons are singing tonight
This was but one of the many songs that could be heard in the distance as they walked. Soon they reached a clearing where all the excitement and music originated, and there were many torches burning in a large circle to illuminate the area of dance.
Never had Bulma seen people dancing with such vigor and expression, the music was in their souls and they flew around in the freedom of the cool night air. The ritualistic festival at night might have been a nightmare to many she knew back at home, but to these people it was heavenly, and soon Bulma found herself filled with the exhilaration of the night, and she felt bodiless, vibrant, transported. The passion of the nocturnal secrecy was in her blood as she became lost in the lively beat, the pulse of life.
She could sense Vegeta's movements acutely, but at the same time he was blurred, but she always knew exactly how to react so they moved as one, they were elegant flames dancing wild and free with an uncontrollable passion and a strange hypnotic beauty that drew many pairs of eyes. Her blood was pounding as her body spun round in sweet abandon. She had never felt so alive, so perfectly connected, and she could have sworn the stars in their lonely sky were dancing with them, dancing in his eyes, moving with every transcendent step he took.
They danced long into the night hardly speaking a word, letting the rhythm speak for them, until they could dance no more and headed slowly off to find sleep away from the enchanting confusion of the festival that was still going on strong.
Vegeta had informed her that he had arranged a place to stay, since he did not want to burden Galatea any more. Whatever animosity Bulma had felt towards him had slipped into the far recesses of her memory, it seemed preposterous to hate him juts because he was an Elf. Was she really any better then an Elf anyway? How could she possibly assume that? She could see that now, and whatever trespasses she may have though he had done to her were assuredly made up for by what he had done for her.
They arrived shortly at a field of domed tents, and entered in the one numbered 214. There were two beds inside and a small space between.
"This is like the hotel of this town, I'm sure there are some coarse people about, but you needn't worry with me about," he said puffing his chest out a bit.
"I'm sure you are the most uncouth of the lot, so if I can handle you I can handle anything," she jested, "Would you like to here a song of my people?"
"I suppose."
She cleared her throat and began in a soft melodious voice, "Stars, in your multitudes
Scarce to be counted
Filling the darkness
With order and light
You are the sentinels
Silent and sure
Keeping watch in the night
You know your place in the sky
You hold your course and your aim
And each in your season
Returns and returns
And is always the same
And if you fall
You fall in flame!
And that's all I can remember, the Fey don't have many festivals, at least with such music and dancing as this one had."
"Well I can be poetic too you know," Vegeta said smiling, "Even though I'm sure I have been to even less festivities then you...lets see...ah hem..um A day without sunshine is like... night."
Bulma laughed, loud and unrestrained. She didn't feel embarrassed this time.
'What an incredible day, I might almost be fooled into thinking my luck has changed, but I'm no fool. Too bad there isn't only one bed though,' she thought with a wicked grin and the immorality of her though, but then quickly locked it away remembering her previous rejection with a pained frown. Why did he have to beguile her so? The gods know she should be anything but consumed by this licentious Elf, but… she could not still her traitorous heart.
She had thought an Elf would be easily hateable loathsome creatures from her past experiences, but Vegeta was anything but. He made her want to hope. She almost let herself think that she could spend forever just trying to figure out who he was, an interest never extracted from her. She normally rarely even cared what people's names were.
"Vegeta, deadly beautiful Vegeta."
Her eyes widened as she realized she had just said that out loud, and she turned an impossible deep shade of crimson as the object of her conflicted thought raised a questioning eyebrow, or mocking more likely Bulma cursed. He said no hurtful words though; he simply stood in silence looking at the floor. Perhaps he was as confused as she? He did not think himself beautiful in the slightest.
"Sit with me," she said simply, and he looked at her with his unreadable expression, and then sat, unable to disobey.
"I'd...like to thank you for all you have done. I know you didn't have to and you were probably going against your best interest, but I'd like you to know how much it means to me that you did. My opinion on Elves is much higher now," Bulma mumbled quickly, not knowing what to say, wanting everything to come out insightful, brave, and charming but failing horribly.
"I don't think you should let your opinion on Elves change, no doubt it is highly accurate for the large majority of them...you may if you feel so inclined to let your opinion on me change, but I can assure you you're first impression is correct."
"Yes, I've heard many stories of you; if you are indeed the dark elf, of Black Ghost as they say, but, I see myself that there is much the stories don't say. You wouldn't have saved me if you were as cold as you would like to pretend."
"I have not been myself these days," his eyes flashed with affront.
"I'm sorry, I meant no offense. Maybe you have not been yourself before, and are just now finding yourself."
That wrought silence from her counterpart and they sat like that for a long moment, both lost in their own turbulent thoughts, too private to speak aloud. At last Vegeta sighed and looked at her.
"I try and I try, but I still cannot find a rational reason for why I saved you, for why I've done all of this."
"Rationality never did anything for me."
He gave her another meek smile that was more in his eyes then his lips and traced the contours of her face ever so lightly.
"What's this?" he questioned indicating a scar where her temple and hairline met, obstructing the perfection of her features.
"Oh, that? Um well..when I was young I used to walk the long way through the forest to get to school. One day on the way home I say a Moundky (a winged monkey) sitting in a tree. I didn't like the way it was staring at me so I picked up a stone and threw it at the Moundky but it shifted out of the way just in time. So, this went on for three days. I passed the Moundky, felt I did not like it's staring, threw a stone at it, and it shifted before being struck.
"Finally when I threw the stone, the Moundky caught it and threw it back. The stone struck me and the blood poured out as if I were not a human but a goblet with no bottom to it. Everybody though it was not going to ever stop until I died, but I suppose they were wrong."
At this Vegeta laughed, so loud and sudden that it startled Bulma. It was the first real laugh she had heard from him, and it had a beauty that could rival Galatea's.
"I guess the Moundky was smarter then you. Didn't think to dodge it eh?" he said through outbursts.
"I didn't think the damn think could catch!" she snapped, his beauty dropping a bit, but couldn't help breaking out into laughter herself as his continued, and of course that made him laugh more, and so on, the way laughter fits usually go.
Slowly their laughter died down an ended again in silence, but a far more secure one.
"Not quite a battle scar I would say," Vegeta said with a smirk.
"Yes, yea I'm sure your scars are much better then mine, and have much better stories."
"No I don't think any scar story could possibly top that one," he said as Bulma became caught in his dark gaze again, and she reveled in its beauty. Those eyes surrounded in a pensive shade, circled by this sad but beautiful darkness were so sorrowful, lonely, and nobly tragic.
Then slowly, as if he were afraid of being seen, he leaned forward and kissed her neck up to her ear. He took the lobe of one ear into his mouth, and she leaned against him and sighed and shuddered at the same time.
They both stayed there as if stuck together until he tasted his way along Bulma's jaw to her mouth with feather light kisses that warmed her soul. He only kissed the corner of her mouth, enticingly close, as if asking permission and apologizing at the same time.
He flicked his tongue over her lips and she welcomed him willingly, no longer wanting any teasing. Warm lips brushed together as tongues shyly met. She let her tongue play, tasting, touching, letting it twine against the other. He sucked at her full bottom lip, and then nibbled gently at it before resuming the moist and profane kiss.
It must have been only minutes but it felt like sweet infinity to Bulma, who was completely absorbed and lost in this embrace that was more passionate and personal then any touch she had ever had, and it was intensely beautiful in its simplicity. It was a kiss, a real kiss, not a means to begin sex, but a pure kiss. She didn't have to worry or think of any other thing except the lips gently moving against hers in perfect contented harmony.
He slowly pulled away, and Bulma's heart flew into apprehension. Was he going to reject her again? But then she saw his eyes lidded with pleasure, and knew it was foolish to worry. Whatever had ailed him before and caused him to withdraw had dissipated.
"Sleep Bulma, you have had a long day."
"I don't think I can sleep without you beside me, if I may be so bold. Please stay, you don't have to do anything, I just need..your warmth on this cold night."
"As you wish," Vegeta conceded with a quiet smile and was readily pulled down into her awaiting arms.
Bulma molded herself to him, not wanting any space to separate her from this strange newfound warmth, and quickly fell asleep for it had indeed been a long strenuous day.
Hours of sweet natural sleep followed, without pain, without tension, without drugs. Such a rest neither had experienced in a long time.
AN: Alright, looks like we got a little something something going on. But what will they do about it in the light of day? Will everything seem the same? Thanks for reading, oh and the stars thing is from les misrables