Stolen Hearts Chapter Twenty-Three
'Where could he have gone?' Bulma thought with a growing wary feeling in the pit of her stomach as she scoured the grounds for a third time in an attempt to locate her missing lover.
Bulma couldn't believe her good luck with her parents accepting Vegeta, and that disbelief was the central source for her apprehensive state. Yes he had proven himself in saving her, but she still could not see why they would roll over so easily after centuries of hate. She was also plagued with the idea of 'you cannot have your cake and eat it too' theory.
Never in her life had things gone so easily her way, so it is no great wonder that her heart was not yet at rest and she still became dreadfully nervous whenever she was separated from Vegeta for long periods of time, which in this case constituted as a half an hour.
'But I am a Valkyrie, I have nothing to fear,' even as she thought this she knew it was folly to be so arrogant. Life was one thing that would not surprise her with its disappointment and ruthlessness, and she had had little of late time to ponder what it really was to be a Valkyrie with extraordinary powers or what she was to do with it. Her whole world had become a whirlwind of hope and chance, a world where it was hard to keep your place for more then a few moments, leaving no time for balanced thought.
No one would have even believed that she of all people, the unfortunate little princess, was actually the legend come to life if they had not seen her with there own eyes, her hair glowing white like the light of heaven itself. The whole palace seemed to be caught in the same strange storm of uncertainty she was. The ground had been recently and drastically shifted and it took everything a while to find its place and settle back into the way of things.
All except Harmonia that is. She landed swiftly on her feet without a falter, easily sliding back in her way and thinking of what must be done for this faraway future the people had seemed to have momentarily forgotten about. While the world was in awe of Bulmam, she was devising away to unknowingly undermine her.
Bearing a child always gives you the right to have a different perspective on all that they do. Maybe she had always known of her daughter's greatness and that's why she had been so upset at Bulma's shortcomings, but the past was of little consequence now. There was only one more little obstruction that was keeping her daughter from rising to absolute prominence and she intended to dispose of that quickly.
Little did she know in her blindness that in fact she was actually wiping out her daughter's only chance.
"Mother! What are you doing down here?" Bulma called when she saw the shrouded figure emerging from the shadows of the dungeon. Her heart leapt at this strange sight, for the Queen was hardly a person to be found down there without a specific purpose. A flash of guilt crossed her mother's face before it was quickly smothered with a comforting smile that bore no warmth for Bulma.
"Nothing dear, shall we go to dine? The hour is getting quite late."
"Mother," Bulma said slowly and skeptically, narrowing her eyes as she did so, "Have you seen Vegeta?"
"Who? Oh yes him. I have seen him."
Bulma cringed at the airy condescension of her mother's utterance and demanded to know where he was, not liking this game in the least. Her heart was beginning to thump a warning, but she didn't want to hear her fears. 'Stars hide your fire! Let me not see the black and deep truth that lay within!'
"Peace child, there are things you have to understand. You remember our conversation earlier; I have done what had to be done to ensure the safety of you and our people, as I always have. I have done you a favor you see? You were better without him and-"
"Mother!" Bulma interrupted not liking where this was going. She didn't want smoke and mirrors; she had to know straight out, so she asked again with pleading eyes, "Where. Is. Vegeta?"
Harmonia's eyes darkened and became distant. She shied away and remained silent, as if deciding whether of not it would be safe to reveal the answer to her daughter's question. By Bulma's shaky breathing and dilating eyes Harmonia thought it would not be wise to do so.
Infuriated and not being able to stand another minute of this dreadful silence that you could cut with a knife and felt like a blade at her throat, Bulma broke it.
"Mother where?!"
"I had him executed," Harmonia said quickly, almost as a reflex to the loud intrusion of her daughter's demand, like a testimony against the accusing tone that it only proved true.
Bulma felt as if all the earth's gravity had been gathered and made to center on only her, she was reduced to a tiny speck that weighed the world. Hearing those words was far worse then any physical pain could be.
She stood still in an appalled silence of sorrow and loathing. Her head ached, her eyes ached, her mouth was dry but she could not swallow, her throat ached, inside her ears was the sound of waves wanting to break free but only dashing themselves against a wall of rocks.
"No...no..no!!" Bulma said, first in disbelief, then in absolute sadness, and then in the incredible anger of betrayal, "How could you..you horrid monster!? I trusted you..and you go and stab me in the back without even blinking! I hope you are happy MOTHER, I hope you are happy with what you have accomplished! I..I am just embarrassed that I even came out of a beast like you!"
Bulma's words came out misconstrued in the torrent that pressed at her sanity, but they lost none of their potency. Widows fell to pieces at the terrible force of her anger, hate, and misery personified. Her mother was thrown to the ground and cut by the thousands of flying glass shards.
"Please, daughter, try to see the sense in it! You are better off without him, trust me, I know the world, I didn't think-" her mother tried franticly and vainly to explain to the raging power that roared furiously in front of her that she had trouble recognizing as her daughter.
"No! Do not speak to me! I do not want to be poisoned deeper by your filthy lies! You... are NOT my mother!" the Valkyrie choked in a final cry, one that the whole castle could hear, before she turned and fled in the madness of despair, the screaming sound of her heart breaking a haunting sound that no one who heard ever forgot.
Bulma was teetering on the edge of a fence, to both sides lay madness; one was a violent madness that would have left countless cities in ruin, while the other was one of private and dark desolation. Luck for the people surrounding would have it that it was to the latter she managed to fall.
The broken princess locked herself in her room. She didn't want to hear another word spoken, she didn't want to see another face ever again if it wasn't his. She was all alone again, nowhere to go, no one to turn to. She had managed to destroy the only person who had ever really loved her and she hated herself almost as much as her mother.
Only now when it was too late did Bulma see her folly. It had been a mistake, with him, a terrible mistake, but how was she supposed to not to make mistakes when she didn't know what to do at all?! She should have never trusted! Never believed! As soon as Vegeta was saved they should have ran, and ran, until they were at the ends of the earth!!
Bulma wept and screamed. She had never cried so pitifully before. Fate was cruel to allow her to realize her mistakes only after there was no hope of turning back...what had she done?
Bulma was losing whatever hold on the reality she had all together... and there was nothing to bring her back, there was no use in going back to it. She could never fix this broken life of hers, it was stupid to even try for there was no pot of gold at the end of her rainbow, only the terrible consuming blackness. There was now only a pit of sadness, bottomless and despairing, that she would fall forever into.
Vegeta was dead. Murdered by her own people. Nothing was left for her in this life.
The bottom dropped out and she forgot to fight. There was a grief that couldn't be spoken; there was a pain that went on and on. Here they had spoken about tomorrow, but tomorrow would never come. She would just fade away into the blackness that, in an instant, had become her life.
It's a funny thing how an entire life is usually defined in just a handful of instances, the rest being simply the empty space of routine. It is those precious instances that hold all the consequences, and they flash by too fast for us to change them once they have come upon us with our backs turned.
The instant of darkness in Bulma's life had stolen all the light that had once shined in her eyes. She was a Valkyrie no more; the majesty had left her as all her will to live did. Her clear direct eyes showed the depth of her sudden grief over her loss, her shoulders seemed to collapse forward in defeat from the heavy burden. It makes the sting much worse when you fall so far from happiness to sorrow, when you actually begin to believe in life and love, only to have it thrown back in your face. That is much worse then when you had no hope and were expecting as such.
Bulma's distant hope for love had once been something to live for, a handrail-not a particularly sumptuous handrail, but sufficiently serviceable to keep her upright. She had been able to make due, but now she had found it and it had been brutally taken away, crushing her small rail to dust.
She cried slowly and primitively. She knew her tears would not bring him back but she was beyond herself. There was no way she could gather herself back together this time. Why bother to get up? What good was there? Only to be beaten down again no doubt. There was no reason for her to continue living, no purpose. She should just lie here with her face to the floor and waste away in her tears.
How many tears could one person shed?
From the floor, damp eyes stared out the balcony window, seeing nothing but the occasional blurring of the landscape as another tear joined its brethren to soak the ground. Her crying had reduced itself to occasional sobs after hours of emotional turmoil, but the dull aching pain in her heart had not diminished in the least. Bulma was utterly broken. She curled into a fetal position as another shiver of despair washed over her body, a cold numbness that bled from her heart. Perhaps if she simply lay there long enough, everything would just go away...disappear into an empty void.
At such a young age she was already on a personal basis with real bitterness, real regret, and real hard-heartedness. Her despair was in full bloom, just like the flowers she had come to hate again. Life without Vegeta meant nothing at all.
'It was my right to die with him, why should I live if I must live in hell?' Bulma thought with closed eyes, 'Come then, deep night and enshroud me in the darkest smoke of hell so that my keen knife will not see the wound it makes, nor heaven peer through the blanket of dark and make me falter in my intent.'
She had to leave this world. She knew this with a kind of certainty that made fear irrelevant. Fear is only for those who have the slightest possibility of survival. She knew that she had none, for she was already dead inside.
Bulma looked down at the knife in her hands with detachment, the blood flowing down her wrists had no pain, on the contrary it was almost a relief, a beautiful distraction.
She was thin and pale and cold again. Each moment felt like a ball of lead. Her eyes slid shut with no intention of ever opening again.
AN: Ah Bulma what are you doing? What is going to happen to turn this mess around? You'll have to read the next chapter! Thank for reading!