It wasn't the first time. Helen had often dreamed of marrying during her teenage years, but had put those aspirations aside to focus on her education, But love had proven to be mulishly stubborn, follow Helen around and refuse to give in to reason and die. It had been patient, kind, never easily angered; yet still it forever endured, believing and hoping as many as six impossible things before Helen would even eat breakfast.
And then Helen found Vegeta. He was so different from everyone else, with his supernatural heat and strength, and aciform wit that stitched together the pieces of himself that he had shared. The rooyal misery and princely discontent were juxtaposed with warmth, longing, and nobility. "Born to rule," He'd said more than once. "I could conquer the world for you," ...I don't think he should need to conquer the whole earth... Perhaps just a log cabin in the countryside would do, with a few acres of land; enough for a few horses and a small farm, at least.
...Children. That is a possibility... and grandchildren, running about the family home. I've just baked custard pie, and they're all clamoring to have a taste of it. Hmm. I wonder if Vegeta... likes pie. Yes, he will. I suppose there are a number of other things he'll learn to love: this city, the bottom, Annie and mother- oh, Annie and mother... Well, they are going to have to learn to love him. Shaking her thoughts, clear, Helen sat back in the chair and massaged her temple for a moment before finding the typewriter again.
~oOo~
Knocking on the door had never given Vegeta pause before, but this was a situation that called for more tact than blasting a hole in the wall. I would trade my tail for another way to do this... but how do you prepare for the impossible? Once, twice, thrice. It was done. Not much longer after the knock the door to the study opened, revealing a comfortable room lined with bookshelves and softly lit by a desk lamp. Behind the door: Annie. She eyed him suspiciously, and retreated to her arm chair- leaving Vegeta with nowhere to sit. Instead, Vegeta took up his signature stance with his arms folded across his chest as if he'd meant to do so all along.
"I... want to do this right.
"That's admirable, Vegeta." John said in a measured voice.
"What ever could you be planning?" Annie asked politely, not fooling anyone.
"It's difficult to explain, I- it's a kind of question."
"A rhetorical question? A carefully phrased rhetorical question can shift mountains," John offered,
"Well, I'm sure you'd love for me to just come out and ask, wouldn't you? It's more personal than a rhetorical question, but I think you already know that, don't you?"
"That very well may be," Answered John, clearing his throat and looking to Annie. Inexplicably appearing in his hand was a porcelain cup filled with green tea, and he took a sip.
"What exactly does your question involve? We can't advise you on anything if don't know what it is! A little something to work with, please."
Vegeta stared at Annie before answering her. "The..." Vegeta sighed angrily. "The question is for one person, but could end up involving several people, all of them for the rest of their lives."
John made as if to reply then stopped short and took another sip of tea. Annie was silent also, patiently observing John's tea cup. The pause gleefully leapt over the awkwardness threshold, and settled down near the fire to stretch out.
Hello? An answer, dammit! I'm not going to stand here forever! But stand there he did, the silence breathing down his neck until he couldn't tolerate it any longer. "Alright! Enough already, this is making me sick. The question... what I wanted to know is how I should propose marriage to Helen."
The effect was immediate: John spat out his mouthful of tea- right in Annie's face as she leaned over to whisper to him- and the cup slipped from his hadn as the tried to stop the flow, spilling the remainder of the contents all over Annie and the papers on his desk, falling on his wife's hand. Trembling, the hand crawled over the empty cup, and closed on it.
"Tea cup," Annie growled. "I will kill you with this tea cup."
John stood up and moved around the desk to head Annie off. "Annie, don't overreact-"
"Overreact? Don't you see what he's doing to her?"
"I'd rather not," Joh mumbled, before speaking up. "This is Helen's choice, not ours-"
"We are Helen! You knew it when you married me, John Macy! You knew it! So the decision is not hers alone, it rests on all of us!"
"I think I know what both of your opinions are, so why don't I go get Helen and ask her, see what she thinks about this-"
"Vegeta-" Anne began.
"No! Shut up, woman, I'm tired of listening to you talk! Helen says this, Helen says that-"
"Vegeta-" Annie tried again.
"-But she isn't saying what you're saying she's saying! Helen is her own person with her own-" The Prince of All Saiyans was startled out of his monologue by a soft touch on his shoulder.
"Vegeta..." Slowly he turned aroun to face her, and she took his hands in hers to sign. "I felt your ki rise. What is going on, has the man returned?"
"He hasn't come back. Look, Helen..." Damn it, I'll do it right here. On one knee. "Helen, I was arguing with John and Annie; it was all over one question."
"What was it?" What could have gotten them so riled up?
"Helen," Vegeta said as well as signed, getting down on one knee, "I would be honored if you would be my wife. Will you marry me?"
Again? Wait, so... oh, he must have... what was he thinking; all I needed was a moment to collect my thoughts... "Vegeta stand up."
Wha- "Why?"
"I don't want my husband to look like he's begging for a kiss." Almost as if in slow motion Vegeta rose, and cradled Helen's cheeks in his hands and gravitated towards her soft, warm and full lips for a-
"NOOOOO!" Annie rushed over and pushed them apart, sending Helen back through the door. Vegeta took a step towards Helen, then he spun around in the doorway with a violence that was tangible, surveying Annie bitterly with hard, blazing eyes before banging the door so savagely the the whole room shuddered and whimpered before sinking into and unearthly silence.
It was like a nightmare that kept intensifying until even waking would not guarantee escape from the torment. Though Helen knew what direction she wanted to move in she was being pulled in many directions; caught in the middle Helen realized she had a choice to make. All these people and emotions were tugging on her heart, and if she chose an emotion or person her heart would consequently be pulled to pieces. This all is... beyond my wildest hopes and imaginations, like an old Grimm Brothers tale... so I will make the fairy tale choice: I choose my heart.
Helen turned and wrapped her arms around Vegeta, feeling his warmth. She saw that she had finally found her prince, and it only remained to be seen if she would get her happily ever after. "Vegeta, let's fly away..."
"Where?"
"South, towards Jersey."
"Jersey?"
"It won't be far by flight, we could arrive by evening."
"Then let's go now, and never look back." Helen stopped to breathe in Vegeta, then signed him her answer:
"Let me pack a few things and then we'll leave." Giving Vegeta a quick kiss on the cheek, Helen then led the way to her room.
~oOo~
Harry had once lived in the first Jersey. A number of those who were bound by The Pact worked in and around the Western shore, supposedly to avoid The Pact but with so many of them there Harry knew better. His stay was short.
As far as he knew he was the only one bound moving around in New Jersey. He hadn't even let Detective Castle know he was leaving for Newark; almost as soon as he'd seen Vegeta with the Dragon Ball. Not because he was scaredL but because of the slim(but terrifying) chance Vegeta would try to collect Nimue's Dragon Ball. He already has Medraut's... But even thinking the name pained Harry, and he returned to maintaining his veil.
Harry could not afford to let the disguise drop, as he was actually going to ask around. It had been years- at least a hundred- since he'd left the Ball in Newark, during which time de'd died and handful of wars had been fought; all of those things being his fault, one of which being a direct result of pursuing the Balls. Since only a select group even knew the Dragon Balls existed, suspicions and plans would zero in on Harry faster than a fly to manure.
In any case, Harry was in the mood for breaking with tradition. He walked into the back alley pub as if he'd done so a thousand times (which on days like today he wished was true), casually scanning the room for a specific look to a patron's eyes. Curious and looking for a fight, vaguely interested, horny, curious, startled- ah, there we go. Stopping momentarily to order an unforgettably generic beer at the bar, Harry made his way to the booth across the room where the initially frightened man sat.
"You come here often?" The man said in a thick Irish accent. He leaned in conspiratorially and added, "See, Art, we all laugh at him but he's still a good fella; and no one else would hide under a glamour here."
"Not pretending to be anything other than what I am, my friend."
The Irishman's face saddened. "Art, ye had four pints that night, no one blames ye for it."
"Yet here I am, wearing a glamour so as to not offend the kind souls in this establishment."
"How thoughtful," Art's aquaintance murmured.
Harry glanced around before leaning over to whisper, "Look, the true reason that I'm here is that I'm looking for a man..."
"Art, lad, we couldn'a known..."
"Different this time: this man is... looking for balls, of a sort. He's got very distinct black hair, sticking right up, and he's a little on the short side. Andthe balls are... a pleasant orange, fancy things that really do nothing at all."
"Are ye really fine, Art? You've never been the type to collect trinkets."
"This is just a phase I need to pass through. I'll be back to normal soon enough." Art, I hope we never meet.
"Oh, a mid-life crisis, then? Me uncle had one; the constable found him with the goats." Art's drinking buddy shook his head. "So you and the pointy-haired man are rival collectors of these balls, I presume... Well, Art, if it'll help you get through this 'phase' of yours I'll keep a look out for him."
"Much obliged," Harry said, taking a sip of his beer. "I'll stop by here every now and again to chat with you if I haven't run into him first." Taking a few more gulps of beer, Harry began to speak when Art's friend spoke first.
"Will ye be wearin' that glamour? I can't imagine anyone here being sober enough to remember your face clearly."
"We all have our own goats..." Harry replied, and then chugged his beer. "Be seein' ya." With a nod to the Irishman, Harry stood up and left the bar as quickly as he could. Smooth as always, Dresden. Like butter on a bald monkey.
~oOo~
Helen led the flight South, guided by that strange sense of hers Vegeta still could not understand. She called them "stars"; that peculiar orange ball was one, and on the way to New Jersey the sense had sharpened and other stars were unveiled in Helen's night sky- and there just so happened to be one in Newark. With plenty of daylight to spare Vegeta guided them down to a park as close to the Ball as he could manage without crashing through the roof of the building. It had high stained glass windows and a needle-like structure on the roof over the front doors. "We're right outside."
"Then let's enter," Signed Helen, briefly shivering with anticipation. Trying the door, Vegeta found it to be locked- and then without further ado kicked open the doors. There were many rows of full seats, and up at the front of the hall there was a woman in an elaborate white dress and a man in a sharp black suit, and behind them was a man in gold trimmed robes. The congregation stood silent in shock at the sudden entrance, watching the wedding crashers stroll up the aisle; and then the other frying pan hit: the woman of the duo was Helen Keller! They got all the way to the foot of the altar before even the minister of the church said something.
"Have you come to object?" The man nervously asked.
"Object to wha-" Oh. Of course. So this is what marriages look like on this planet. "We're just here to get something, we don't object to what's going on." Vegeta walked around the minister, then Helen stretched out her hand, pointing at the altar. After a quick push Vegeta found the altar could move, despite it seemingly being an extension of the wall. There was a decent handhold on the edge, so Vegeta secured his grip and moved the altar away from the wall as the minister let out a cry and moved to keep a large book from falling off it. There! In that chest! Vegeta had just carried the old chest back around in front of the altar, when a man in a black longcoat with a black staff walked in.
"Actually, I object. That man is clearly a thief stealing a treasure of the church. And may I add, sir, your wife looks gorgeous." Harry said, readying a shield charm.
"Really?" Vegeta said, smashing open the chest with his bare hand and thus bypassing the magical barrier. He picked up the Dragon Ball and displayed it to the wedding. "I haven't seen one of these sitting out anywhere else in this place."
"There are treasures unique to some places, things like a saint's relics or maybe even the Shroud of Turin." Even as he said it Harry knew the congregation wasn't buying it. Of course they've never seen it before. I made sure to leave it in the last place anyone who knows of the Balls would look. Harry sighed. "You're going to have to get through me if you want to leave with the Dragon Ball."
So that's what these things are called. "Helen, I have the star. Get ready to leave." Gathering a globe of ki in his free hand, Vegeta slung it forwards and it burst into a beam. Harry barely got his shields up and they shattered as he was knocked back into the street. Vegeta took Helen's hand and signed to her as they walked down the aisle. "The man who attacked me before is trying to stop us from leaving." But I have no intentions of losing to a low-level clown again. Undaunted, Helen and Vegeta strode forwards and stepped into the light.
Harry peeked out from behind the random nondescript building. Now that the ball was in his court, so to speak, that the cat was out of the bag, there were two ways he could return it: with black magic, or with fire. My career and possibly life are over, so I might as well go out in a literal blaze of glory. The black staff was raised, the words of the spell on his lips as he focused on Vegeta; but before he could speak them another blast of violet and white energy forced him away from the wall. The firaga blasted off and swirled towards Vegeta in a colummn of flame.
Though a squirrel and nearby greenery had been blackened, Vegeta was nowhere in sight. Until, that is, something slammed into him and pinned him to the wall. "I have destroyed entire civilizations singlehandedly. Annihilating you would be less than nothing."
"Oh, no! I'm literally horny with fear." And with a short word, Harry blew Vegeta several yards away with pure force.
A bystander spoke, the elderly man looking from Vegeta to Harry. "What devilry is this?"
"Devilry?" Harry repeated, with a wry expression. "This is Newark." Harry took a deep breath and cast firaga again, but a golden-white sphere of energy suddenly flew in, blowing some of the firaga back at him before exploding, mixing in with the spell and blasting a fiery hole in the building he had been standing next to.
Helen? Vegeta surveyed the burning wreckage in the aftermath of Helen's Shadow Flare. She... At her feet was the suitcase containing the Dragon Balls, and she stood breathing heavily with her palms still extended. He walked over to her and took the fierce young woman's hand. "He's finished. You did it, Helen." She stood silent for a moment, then pointed up to the heavens. Vegeta nodded and picked up the suitcase, and they flew up into the sky.
~oOo~
Heinrich Kemmler did not consider himself an evil man. He had the same goals and fears as many- if indeed, not all- men, the same determination to thrive. But to him had been given greater power, and a knowledge few others bore.
The sentence was crossed off the list. Two of them had been uncovered, and were now in the possession of the strange man and... Helen Keller. Quite the unforseen turn of events, yet still things will play out for the greater good. To have him surface again is an option I cannot overlook. It's far easier to keep a low profile with him around; always has been. Perhaps he will even accept the offer, this time. Deliberating for but a moment, Kemmler turned to his servant girl. "Have the locations been changed?"
A thoughtful look came over the servant's queenly mien as she went through her magically vast archives of knowledge. "...If they have, the locations have not been written down, master."
"Then proceed as if they were in their last known resting places. The offer is to be delivered with the exact same words as last time, and should he accept have him meet me here."
"Yes, master." With no further words, Kemmler's servant bowed before him and turned aroud and walked into a portal that had suddenly opened.
~oOo~
I wish I could have said no. But how do you prepare for the impossible? Even worse, the offer had made a twisted kind of sense: a mysterious man who was supposedly knowledgeable in magic had extended his greetings, and offered to lend his dark arts to "protecting the rest". A malevolent, perfect nightmare; the White Council's Blackstaff(the world's sole legal black magician) teaming up with a rogue wizard who somehow knew of the Dragon Balls.
Not to mention the man's servant. Harry had been surprised to see her, the adolescent's cerulean eyes connecting with memories buried deep inside. Her slim frame and quietly determined bearing completed the picture, the young woman's lineage now evident to him. She hadn't spoken a word since making her master's offer, which honestly didn't surprise Harry. In any case, by way of her mysterious portal the trip back to Germany was short, and they came out of the portal in a tastefully furnished study. There was a chair facing away behind a desk, and smoke rose up in rings above it.
As the chair turned to face them, the servant girl spoke, "Mister Dresden, meet my master: Heinrich Kemmler." The name was the first shock: Kemmler was known far and wide as the most dangerous black wizard ever; the tired and humble face not matching up with the legendary terrors its owner was known for. The fact that he recognized Kemmler's servant alone was neaarly enough to dissuade Harry from taking the deal, and now Harry was downright unnerved, having met her master. His fast escape from the scene in Newark meant almost nothing now; a Blackstaff in council with Kemmler was a gray area that could not afford to be brought to light.
The eyes were the second and biggest shock. Though the face they were deeply set in was unfamiliar, no one who saw those gray eyes- bound by The Pact or not- ever forgot their eldritch depths. They had seen far and far too much, and it showed with every gaze. They had been the eyes of generals, thieves, and once an insecure drag queen and prostitute; but those eyes were the ones of the man who wrote The Pact, a man Harry had done all he could to avoid since his first death. The body may have changed, but the eyes never did, not since they had belonged to a man once known as Merlin.
~oOo~
Helen had never been to England- or anywhere outside of America, for that matter. In their quest for the Dragon Balls Vegeta was always in a rush to and from their next location, and it was only after collecting the three and five star Balls that she had even gotten him to slow down and take the time to describe where they were. "Cave," and "Desert," he had briefly signed of their first two stops after Newark.
The third stop had been the most interesting for Helen. "Island" had been the first word after their long flight, followed by "mountains" and then "forest". Vegeta then led her up a long flight of steps- one hundred and eight, Helen had counted- to a clearing, when Helen stopped to rest. "There's a red wooden gate with animal statues on the sides, and it looks like more steps behind it."
"What type of animal are the statues? The craftsmanship?"
"Looks like some mix of dog and lion. Fairly well done, I guess. They're pretty detailed, and the stone looks smooth." The stone had indeed been smooth to the touch, and cool. The forms of the statues suggested strength and also elegance to Helen, and she admired the intricate chisel work. Rested, they flew over the steps the short distance to the Dragon Ball, which was in a building Vegeta described as in the style of the gate. To help, he drew it in the dirt with her finger, guiding her hand in simple and graceful lines. And with the two star now in the suitcase the two had flown back along the way they'd come to the two balls in Europe.
They had to stop overnight a third of the way along. An elderly farming couple had understood their need despite not speaking a word of English, providing a blanket and a space in the hay loft in the barn. Breakfast had been slightly awkward but simple and delicious, with fresh milk and hot cereal made from a grain Vegeta didn't recognize. Soon after, with smiles and waves to make up for the language barrier, they flew off full speed.
Thus, they came to arrive in England in the late afternoon. "Plains; boring."
"Surely there has to be more around than simply plains, Vegeta."
"Well, there are some large rocks in a circle around us, some are standing up, or resting on top of each other. But really, it's just plains for miles around."
The Western breeze ruffled Helen's hair and skirt, and stirred up her imagination. She imagined being surrounded by tall stones, giants looking down on her, some fragile and impermanent thing. I"m standing right over it... "Vegeta, I'm going to blast away the dirt above it." He nodded and moved aside, and with a loud cry and flash of golden-white light Helen had blown away the turf and topsoil, revealing the Dragon Ball. Vegeta saw the faint glimmer of some yellow metal beneath the Ball, but he ignored that and scooped up what they had come for. In a moment Vegeta stowed it in the suitcase with the others.
"One more," Helen managed to say, smiling. "But first, food a lady does need to eat."
~oOo~
It had been a simple meal of bread, cheese, and cider, traded for Helen's last change of clothes. Not particularly tasty, but filling enough.
Right away, Helen wanted to get back on the hunt, and they flew off to the East full speed. Helen felt on the edge of glory, and could not wait to leap over the precipice. So, in the evening light they came to a clearing up in the mountains, a small place out of the wind only ten paces across. But as Helen took a step towards the last Dragon Ball a portal opened and Harry Dresden stepped out of it and in front of Helen.
"Well, well, well, you managed to find Bielefeld, I'm impressed. But this is the absolute farthest either of you will ever get to the Dragon Ball."
It's hard to tell with the burns, but the voice... it's definitely him again. "Okay, what is the big deal with the Dragon Balls? Just what the Hell do they do, exactly?" Asked Vegeta.
"I'll tell you if you hand over the other six."
"Fine." To harry's amazement, Vegeta actually tossed the suitcase with the Balls i it at his feet. Quickly he knelt down to open it and verify the trade. Yes, the other six. This didn't make Harry any less cautious though. He's got to have an ace up his sleeve if he just hands over six Dragon Balls.
"Don't think you'll get away with pulling a fast one on me. The kid gloves have officially come off: you try any funny business and I'll skip right past fire and go straight to death curses. Understood?"
Vegeta shrugged. "Sure."
"The Dragon Balls were created over a thousand years ago, as a way to promote balance and peace among the nations. Of course, that's not how it worked out; as wars have been fought over and kingdoms built on the possession of the Balls.
Individually, the Balls are worth approximately a third of their weight in feces. But if brought together, however, their value goes up astronomically, as they can be used to summon and Outsider known as Porunga."
"Porunga? I think that's the name of a porn I saw on Zarkon Five," Vegeta scoffed. "And why is this 'Porunga', so valuable, anyways?"
"Because if Porunga's name is called three times, he will be summoned... and can grant up to three wishes." Harry waited for Vegeta to finish signing to Helen, and then continued, "And now that you know why the Balls are so precious, you have exactly one minute to leave."
"Or what?"
"Or you'll take an Avada Kedavra, that's wha-"
The ace, ironically, was speed. Vegeta doubled Haarry over with a punch before the latter could react, then threw him high in the air and erased Harry Dresden from existence with a Galick Gun.
"He's gone for good now," Signed Vegeta.
"Then let's do it! Right now, Vegeta." He looked around for a moment to see if Harry had dropped it, but then Vegeta saw Harry had been standing in front of a small cave in the mountainside, from which a rabbit promptly ran out.
It must be in there. He would have to crawl on all fours, but he would fit in. The Prince of All Saiyans did just that, and after going in a few feet he found he could stand. There was light coming in from the outside, splashing against the back wall and illuminating the last Dragon Ball. Vegeta calmly walked over and picked it up, then rolled it ahead of him as he crawled back out. Helen had already opened the suitcase and placed the Balls in a circle. There was space for one more, and Vegeta placed the one star Ball in the gap. "It's in the circle, Helen."
There was a moment where Helen paused. Is and "Outsider" some type of demon that we'll be summoning? Would He forgive me for witchcraft like this? The adrenaline and doubt made Helen tremble as she signed to Vegeta, "Do it." Forgive me, Lord...
Somewhat skeptically, Vegeta shouted, "Porunga, Porunga, Porunga!" ...He was just fooling with us, nothing's- But then the sky darkened as if the sun had already set, and the Dragon Balls glowed with an mystic light, just prior to a light erupting from the like a mammoth geyser slowly fading andtaking form as it stretched up and up into the sky, eventually taking the form of a glowing long-bodied wyrm with green scales and tan belly.
"I am Porunga, and I shall grant you any three wishes." It spoke with a voice of leaden thunder. "Your first wish?"
Helen quickly signed the only things she could think of at the moment to Vegeta. "I wish for a white wedding dress and two golden wedding rings to wear!"
"The rings I can do with one wish, but not the rings and the dress. Do you want to use two wishes?"
"Yes!" No! I meant no, actually! Wait-
"They are now in the suitcase," Porunga said. "Your final wish?"
NO! Vegeta began to feel a hint of panic. "Helen, we have one wish left!"
"Just- whatever you want. I have no ideas!"
Now Vegeta was faced with a decision: use the wish to return home, or not? Old life, or new life? Choose, Vegeta, Make your choice, dammit!
"You must make your choice within the next several moments," Porunga prompted.
After what seemed like an eternity but was really just a few seconds later Vegeta made his choice. If she gave the last wish to me, I'll use it for her! "I wish Helen was completely healed, so she can see and hear!"
"I can only do this with her consent." Hurriedly Vegeta signed this to Helen.
He gave me a whole new sense before... this is the least I can do for him! "Now!" She said to Porunga, flinging her arms wide open.
"It is done." And with that, Porunga glowed brighter and disperse, and the Dragon Balls began to rise into the air, spinning around in a circle at high speed. Far overhead they flashed and with a mighty crack! they sped off to the ends of the Earth.
Helen was blinking. So much light and detail was almost too much to take in, the colors excruciatingly beautiful. Is this Heaven? Tears welled up in Helen's eyes before they could be blinked away, and spilled down her cheeks.
And then she saw Vegeta.