Ta Da! Chapter 4. I want to say thank you to everyone who had followed and favorite this story, and thank you to every one who left a review. It really makes my day to hear form you all.
Quick disclaimer- I own nothing! I am just useing the characters of BBZ for my own entertainment. Also I am not a historian, archeologist, or any of the cool stuff. So if I get anything wrong I am sorry.
The awesome MariIvyFenta is my beta, working hard with me to make this story the best that it can be. Enjoy this next chapter!
Ch: 4- A new Jarl is in town. Friend, or foe?
The docks were crowded with people, everyone wanted to come and see who was coming in through the fjord. Vegeta roughly pushed and shouldered through the crowd working his way to the front. His father and mother were already there, patiently waiting for the newcomer.
"Father, is it someone we know? Can you tell?" Vegeta asked as he strained his eyes to look at the oncoming ships.
"It's no one we know," the King responded as he too strained his eyes trying to recognize the new incomers. "But I already have our archers in position, ready to strike when need be."
"Why don't we strike and sink them now before they even make it to the docs?" Vegeta asked in a soft growl.
The King turned to Vegeta to answer but was quickly interrupted by a much taller burly young man.
"Aw, come on, my Prince," The newcomer said as he wrapped his arm around Vegeta's shoulders and gave him a small shake. "Sink them now? And risk the possibility of killing some fine ass shieldmaidens? I need to sink my sword into a new sheath."
Appalled, Vegeta jabbed a sharp elbow into the man's gut, causing him to double over. "You disgust me, Raditz. Is that all that you think about? Your sword?"
Raditz chuckled as he still held his gut. "Isn't that what all us Saiyans think about? Our weaponry?"
"Tch," Vegeta rolled his eyes at his much larger companion.
Raditz stood at least a full foot taller than Vegeta, broad-shouldered and built like a bear. He had long dark locks that draped over his shoulders and down his back. The top of it was pulled back into a braid, tied off with dark leather. Over his shoulders, he proudly wore the fur pelt of a bear, showing off his brute strength, grabbing the attention of many shieldmaidens.
Vegeta flipped his ax out of its holding, slashing it through that air, and pressed it against the exposed part of Raditz's throat. "This is the weaponry you should be thinking about. It is what will lead you to Valhalla. Not the one that is in your pants." He growled.
Raditz just stood there, smirking down at Vegeta. Finding the short temper of his Prince amusing. "You see, that is where we are different. I believe that the Gods are very pleased with me for how well I can make a woman squirm in my bed. For, the bedroom is its own type of battlefield."
"Tch," Vegeta retracted his ax from Raditz's throat. "You're a vulgar man."
"And proud of it," Raditz said in a booming laugh.
"Enough, boys," The King said in a soft chuckle. "The newcomers are almost here. And as Prince, Vegeta, you must be one of the first to greet them."
Vegeta let out a heavy sigh as he reattached his ax to his belt, squared his shoulders, and stood stoically next to his father, waiting for the longboats. There were four of them, all holding at least 20 men and women on board. At the head of each longboat was a carved dragon, roaring its way to victory. A very common symbol to have for your longboat, unlike Vegeta's clan- the Saiyans they called themselves. They had the Oozaru carved at the head of every one of their longboats, which is where the Saiyan Vikings believed they drew the power of their strength from. It was a giant ape that was always painted in yellow or gold with fangs that reached down past its jaw. The very first seer that the clan ever had, many years ago, had a vision from the Gods of this creature and believed that it would always bring them luck. And so far, it has.
The very second the first longboat touched the dock, a large plump man stomped his way out of the ship. He landed on the docks with a thud, his large body causing the wood underneath him to shudder and creak. Vegeta held back a wince as he watched and felt the dock bend under the man stomping his way toward him. Vegeta kept his eyes unmoving from him, taking in every detail. The feeling of uneasiness building more and more within him.
It was obvious, the man enjoyed bathing in the blood of his enemies. His skin was so stained by it that it had a permanent pink hue, and the hair of his beard had taken on a deep red tint. And his beard was no beard to strive for. It was patchy and incomplete, interrupted by many warts and moles that took over his face. Resting upon his head was a metal helm. But unlike any other warrior and having only two horns on it, he had many horns that all pointed in different directions. And peering just below his helm were his eyes, his beady eye's shrunken and shriveled deep within his skull, surrounded by leathery wrinkles.
Needless to say, the man can bring up the bile from within your stomach just by looking at him.
"Be healthy and happy," The ugly man said in greeting. "My name is Jarl Dodoria. I come bringing..." He paused as he waved one of his hands as he searched for the correct words to say. "Eh, let's not worry about that just yet. My men and I have been traveling for many a night, mind welcoming us with a feast?"
"Be healthy and happy," The King replied. "I am King Vegeta, King of all the Norse men of this region. And we would be happy to welcome you with a feast. You have items for trade?"
Jarl Dodoria snorted in response. "Yes, many items for trade." He looked over his shoulder to his men, who were now forming a group just behind him, snickering to them like they were sharing a secret.
"My Queen, Eschalot. Will you do the honors of preparing the feast for our guests?" The King asked as he turned to his wife.
The Queen gave a quick nod to her husband as she spun on her heels. She began waving to many of her maidens and slaves to get to work. Vegeta's eyes never left Jarl Dodoria's face. Something was not right about this man.
Bulma, Norway. Present-day.
Bulma sat on the wooden bench, her head resting on the table in front of her. She had stayed in that position for quite some time now- her forehead probably had quite the indent on it.
A soft hand brushed her lower back up to her shoulder blades. "You seem to not only have had a bad night but to also be having a bad day now."
The calming voice of her boyfriend brought her out of her slump. She slowly sat up and rested her head on his shoulder.
"Why don't you fill me in on what's going on, huh?" Yamcha softly whispered as his hand slowly rubbed her lower back.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Bulma replied, her voice whining and complaining.
Yamcha knew his girlfriend enough not to push her, so he decided to cheer her up the best way he knew how.
"Alright, if you don't want to tell me, then I guess I'll just have to cheer you up." He placed a small black box in front of her. "I was going to give this to you on your birthday next week. But it looks like you might need it more right now."
Bulma jolted up, curiosity overtaking her. With excited fingers, she grabbed the box and flipped the top open. Inside was a necklace made out of leather twine that elegantly held a small black stone. The Viking rune eternal love was carved into it.
With a small gasp, Bulma brought one of her hands over her mouth in shock. "It's beautiful." She whispered.
"The shopkeeper told me that gifting this to you," Yamcha grabbed the box out of Bulma's hands and pulled out the necklace. "You will then experience the strongest force on this planet- Love." He then slowly slipped the necklace around her neck, gently placing the stone just below her collar bone. "But, not just any love, eternal love. And I can only hope that that eternal love will be with me." He finished his spiel with a small smirk and resting his simple chocolate eyes on her deep blue ones.
Bulma snorted at her boyfriend, fighting to hold back a laugh. "That was so cheesy."
"Hey, it worked, though!" Yamcha said with a smile. "Brought a smile on your face."
"Yes, I guess it did." Bulma playfully pushed her boyfriend away from her with a laugh.
"And I know how to make it brighter."
"Oh? How so?" Bulma asked, raising a brow in question.
Yamcha then pulled out a small black box and opened it, revealing a sparkling diamond ring. "By asking you to share that eternal love with me."
Yet again, Bulma gasped in surprise. "Oh my gosh, Yamcha! Are you serious!"
Yamcha just smiled brightly at her and nodded his head yes.
Bulma smiled brightly in return- she didn't quite know what to say. She had been wanting this for years. To have the chance to plan a big and beautiful wedding, become the most beautiful bride.
Ecstatically, she held out her hand, and vigorously nodded her head yes. But just as Yamcha was trying to slip the ring onto her finger, a black crow swooped down and flew right between them. It landed on the table in front of them, ruffled its feathers, and cawed at Bulma. The caw was so loud and angry that it was like the crow was yelling 'No!'
Startled, Bulma jumped off of the bench and backed away from the crow.
"The bird nearly blew my eardrum with that caw," Yamcha said with a small laugh. To make his point, he began to rub his ear. Once he was satisfied that his ear was no longer ringing, he straightened himself out and lifted the ring back up. "Should I put this on you now?" He asked with a childish grin.
Bulma let out a nervous laugh as she looked over to the crow. "How about we put some distance between us... and him." Bulma locked eyes with the crow as it tilted its head from side to side, grunting and ruffling its feathers the whole time in disapproval.
Yamcha nodded in agreement as he grabbed her by the elbow and led her away from the crow. The crow let out another loud caw, but the two of them ignored it.
They were standing just in front of the longhouse when Yamcha gently grabbed her hand and began to slowly place the ring on her finger. Bulma was expecting to feel joy and excitement for this moment to finally be happening, but instead, she felt a cold chill run down her spine. Like she was betraying someone far more important to her, and that Yamcha was not the right man for her.
She stared down at the sparkling ring on her hand and forced a smile on her face. She should be happy. Yamcha and her have been in a great relationship for years. True, they had some ups and downs, like any relationship. But this was the correct next step to take. But then, why was she feeling like she was going the wrong way and that she needed to do a quick u-turn and run?
The angry cawing of the crow brought Bulma out of her trance. Yamcha was walking over to it, flailing his arms around, trying to make it fly away.
"Come on, crow!" He yelled. "This is a romantic moment between my future wife and me, and you're ruining it!" With one last caw, the crow took off and disappeared. Yamcha turned back around to Bulma, a triumphant smile on his face. "Now, I do believe that it is time to celebrate."
Just then, the rest of the digging crew jumped out of hiding from within the longhouse, Viking horns full of beer in hand, all cheering for the two love birds.
"Come on, babe," Yamcha said as he wrapped his arm around Bulma's shoulders. "Let us celebrate this occasion like Vikings! With good ale, good food, and our trusty clan!"
Bulma nodded in agreement. "I could use a drink or two."
~O~O~O~
Everyone was finishing up their dinner. The boys had set up their jimmy-rigged spit over a fire, placed it just high enough for the flames to lick at the meat, cooking it just right. Bulma was casually sitting at one of the tables they had set up just outside their kitchen. She would have loved to be 'celebrating' inside of the longhouse as a true Viking would for such an occasion. But she is a professional archeologist first, and there is no messing with such precious historical artifacts. So there she sat as she stared longingly at the longhouse. Her new fiancé was laughing and chatting with all of the other crew members, paying no mind to her, really.
"Why don't you go on in there?" A voice chimed in, startling Bulma out of her daze. Gine smiled at Bulma as she leaned over the table and placed her chin on her hands. "I can tell you are feeling a bit of a pull towards there. And the old magic is dancing very excitedly around you as you stare off toward it."
Bulma shook her head no. "I really don't want to deal with ghosts right now. I have had enough of them for one day."
"I don't think he is going to leave you alone until you give him what he wants." Gine chimed in. "So might as well just go over there and get it over with."
Bulma sighed heavily with a roll of her eyes. She looked back toward the longhouse. She did feel a strong pull to go over there, and deep down, she knew that it was him... calling to her. With a second heavy sigh, she stood up, caving in.
"No worries," Gine whispered behind her. "I'll keep Yamcha here so that he won't see your... heated conversation with your Viking ghost."
Bulma shot Gine a sharp look over her shoulder but continued her walk toward the longhouse. Gine just smiled in response with a wiggle of her eyebrows.
As she was walking up the steps, she felt the atmosphere around her change ever so slightly. Instead of the cool crisp area outside, the inside was thicker, warmer, and inviting with a touch of excitement. Yet no fire was crackling in the hearth, and no one had been inside for at least 1000 years. But, with her newfound connection to the ghosts of the past, she knew exactly where these feelings were coming from. If only she had the-
Her eyes landed on the ax, which was strategically placed on the edge of one of the still good standing sides of the hearth.
"Gine," She said with a small laugh. "You sneaky lady."
Gently sitting down on the edge of the hearth just next to the ax, she looked about her surroundings, taking in every detail. The magnificently tall ceiling, held up by giant rafters, was halfway caved in. All the wood around her was looking old and brittle. Many a spider, making its homes in every nook and cranny. And moss and leaves were well on their way of taking over the whole place. Oh, how she would have loved to see how this place was back in the day, to live it.
But, she did have a way to see it. All she had to do was grab ahold of the ax that lay just beside her and let the world around her change. But every time her hand would get close to the ax, she would start to shake, and her heart would race. It was like she was a teenage girl again about to open the door to her highschool crush. But they are just ghosts! Nothing more. So, why did she get such an intense feeling of butterflies in her stomach just from thinking about seeing him?
A ghost, for crying out loud! She is nervous about seeing a ghost!
But... an extremely hot Viking ghost, with piercing charcoal eyes that can melt your soul and a devilish smirk that can make any girl weak in the knees. So, there is a slight understanding as to why she might be nervous to see him again.
"Get ahold of yourself, girl! What are you doing? Just grab the stupid ax!" Bulma yelled at herself with an aggravated shrill and a quick shake of her body.
Not letting her nerves control her anymore, she grabbed onto the ax and held it to her chest. With a slow ripple, her world began to change. The cobwebs and moss melted away, the brittle wood filled-out, and the tall ceiling came whole again. It was just as she had imagined it would look- breath-taking.
She looked to the hearth that she was sitting on- a giant fire roared with life within it. Curious, she ran her hand over the flames. She felt a hint of the warmth of the fire, but not the sting. This brought a conclusion to one of her thoughts- she could see the world of the past, but nothing in it can harm her.
Next, she turned her sights to the many Vikings that were feasting around her. Some casually sat at their tables eating, and not in the neatest of ways. Others were challenging one another to a drink off, surrounding a barrel full of ale and horns in their fists. But she did not see Her Viking amongst the others. But once she turned around, facing the front, he was there.
He had one hand gripping the back on the throne, while the other had the hand rest, both holding his rigid body as he bent over the man sitting on the throne. His eyes were sharp like a hunter as he talked in hushed tones to the older man. Bulma followed his intense gaze across the room to a very large, almost pink man. She had to quickly bring a hand to cover her mouth as she tried to hold down her bile- that man was disgustingly ugly. Looking back to her Viking, she could tell he did not like him one bit.
As if he could feel her eyes on him, his predator eyes snapped to her. But instantly softened upon seeing her. His trademark smirk graced his now softened features as he whispered something to the other man, nodded in agreement, and then casually walked over to the hearth next to her. He lifted one of his booted feet onto the wooden side and rested his elbow on his knee, his eyes never leaving the dancing flames in front of him.
"Ekki núna, bláa fegurð mín," He whispered to her. "Mér finnst hætta vera í loftinu, og ef ég heyri orð sjáandans rétt ... ég tek þig þegar hættan er horfin."
Bulma just stared at him with wide eyes. She knew how to read Old Norse and speak small amounts... But to hear it spoken to her from someone who was fluent in the language. Ya, she was only able to catch small bits here and there. But nothing that was making much sense to her... as of yet.
The Viking before her gave her a sideways glance. "Heyrir þú mig kona?
Komdu aftur seinna í kvöld." He then pushed off the side of the heath with his foot and walked away from her.
She had a feeling deep down that he was trying to tell her, 'not now, and to come back later.' With a heavy sigh, she rolled her eyes at him. Fine, if he was going to get embarrassed by his other ghostly clan members just because he was the only one to see her, then whatever. She will come back later. But why would it matter? They are all ghosts! Or, does he not know that he is a ghost? That would be harsh news to take as a Viking. When you die, you are supposed to go to Valhalla, not be stuck wandering the earth.
She watched his retreating form as he slowly made his way to the overly ugly pink man. Maybe that is why he is seeking her out- to correct something that had happened to him so he may enter the halls of Valhalla.
Now that is a big responsibility for some random Viking Ghost to ask little ol' her to do!
With a shrug of her shoulders, she took one last look at her surroundings before placing the ax back down. If he wanted her to come back later, then she will come back later. With that, she stood up and walked out of the longhouse and back to her crew.
Vegeta, Norway. 1050 A.D.
She had appeared to him again, sitting by the fire. Her pale skin and blue hair glowed gold from the dancing flames. Making her just that much more irresistible. He caught sight of a small stone just above her breasts, eternal love carved into it. Made him smirk at the irony of it. He was to fuse his stone to hers, and then 'not even time can stop true soulmates'. When hers had eternal love carved into it. But it was still not the right time- it was getting close, though. He could feel it. Just like how he could feel the bad intentions seeping off of Jarl Dodoria. So he told her that now was too dangerous, and for her to come back later.
And as he slowly made his way to the Jarl, he hoped and prayed to Odin himself that she had listened to him.
With the stomp of his feet, he stopped just before the Jarl and crossed his arms over his chest. "Enough of your feasting, Jarl Dodoria." Vegeta sneered. "Tell me, what is your purpose here? I am not a patient man like my father."
Taking a large bite out of the leg that he still held in his hand, Jarl Dodoria snorted a laugh as he chewed his food. "Why, young Prince Vegeta!" He said as he rolled the meat about his mouth with his tongue. "Straight to business for you, no pleasure, eh?"
Vegeta didn't respond as he held his eyes on the dead beady ones before him.
Jarl Dodoria snorted again as he forced himself to stand, his belly wobbling from the force of it. "Alright, straight to business then. Grab an ale... You're gonna need it." He shoulder checked the young Prince as he marched past him. A few of his men stood to follow, one of them shoving a horn full of ale into Vegeta's hands.
"Tch," Vegeta looked into the horn, inspecting it for any unwanted floaters before taking a large gulp from it and following the group of men.
"King Vegeta!" Jarl Dodoria hollered as he stood before the King, his hands comfortably resting upon the axes on his belt. "Your son says it is time we get to business."
"Ah, yes." The King said as he straightened himself within his throne. "You said you had items for trade. What is it you offer?"
An evil smirk crossed over the Jarl's face. "Your lives," He simply stated.
"Excuse me!?" The King's voice thu'umed across the room, freezing every man and woman from their activities, turning all eyes to them. "What was that you said?"
Jarl Dodoria snickered a laugh in response. "I am here on behalf of the rightful King of all Norse men... King Frieza! So my offer to you is, agree to kneel and accept him as your King, or..." He gave a small chuckle as he slowly pulled his axes out of their holsters, lazily holding them at his sides. "Or, I can bring your head back with me as a message of you declining."
"How dare you-" The King began to say as he shot up from his throne. But stopped short when his son slowly walked in between him and his new enemy.
Vegeta chugged down the rest of the ale in his horn as he slowly walked to stand before Jarl Dodoria, his hand held up, stopping his father. A few of the Jarls men closely follow behind, ready to strike. Vegeta gave them all a sideways glance as he ran his tongue across his teeth, his upper lip curling up in a snarl.
"I do believe that we, Saiyans, would like to send your... King, a different message." Vegeta said as he lifted up his now empty horn, inspecting the sharpness of its tip.
Jarl Dodoria snorted, "Ya? and what would that be? That you agree to kneel?"
Vegeta's eyes snapped to meet the Jarls, a sinister smirk on his face. In a blink of an eye, he spun around and attacked an unexpected man next to him. Stabbing the end of his horn right through the underpart of the man's jaw, and lifted him high above his head. Blood began to ooze and drip out of the wound and down Vegeta's arm. More blood splattered on his face as the man coughed- choking and gagging from the lack of oxygen. The man kicked and clawed at Vegeta, desperately trying to get away, but failed miserably.
Jarl Dodoria just stood there, completely unfazed by the fact that one of his men was choking to death before him.
Vegeta turned his gaze back to the Jarl, still holding the choking man above him, the blood still slowly dripping down his arm. "INSTEAD! We will mount YOUR HEAD and the head of every one of your men on pikes! And display them on that retched ship you came here on, and send it back to your King! THAT will be OUR message of declining his offer!" And with that, Vegeta tossed the now limp dead body at Jarl Dodoria. Still gripping the horn, he spun around and stabbed the point of it into the side of his next opponent's throat, ripping out their jugular. Following through his spin, his free hand grabbed his ax, and with one swift movement, he sunk into the skull of his third opponent.
With fire burning in their veins, the rest of Vegeta's clan sprung into action. Axes and blades slashing in the air, blood spilling onto the floor, war cries and screams filled the hall. Many men and women found their way to Valhalla that night.
Bulma, Norway. Present-day
Bulma had left the longhouse to find that everyone was packing up and getting ready to hit the hay. She smiled warmly when her eyes met with Yamcha's. Such simple soft eyes in comparison to the sharp predatorial eye of her Viking ghost. These eyes of her boyfriend- no sorry, Fiencé, made her feel calm and welcome. But the eyes of her Viking ghost made her feel desired, protected, and powerful. Even though she only got to see those eyes for just three short periods today, that is just how strong those feelings emitted from those eyes. It filled her with such a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach and warmed her core.
'I mean, it's a ghost for crying out loud!' Bulma growled at herself as she made her way to Yamcha. 'And ghosts should not be stirring such feelings within me.'
"You ready for bed, babe?" Yamcha asked as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"We can go to bed. But, I'm not all that tired just yet." They both ducked down as they entered their tent. Once inside, she spun around to face her fiencé, grabbed the collar of his shirt, and pulled him close. "But I know a way that we can spend that energy and help me sleep really well tonight."
Yamcha gave a small chuckle as he gently pulled her hands away from his collar. "Not tonight, babe."
"What?" Bulma whined. "And why not? We just got engaged! And that is a great way for the two of us to celebrate the occasion."
He rubbed the back of his head, an unsteady smile spreading on his face. "Ya but, the others will hear. And I don't want that."
"Oh, come on," she was practically begging now. "We can be really fast. I brought K.Y. so you don't have to do all that before stuff."
Yamcha still shook his head no and kissed her on the top of her head. "No babe, we can properly celebrate once we get home. Where no one can hear us."
Bulma's hands fell down in defeat. "Fine, ok." She went to her bag to grab a simple pair of pajamas. But then something silky and lacy caught her eye, and a small plan ran through her head. Maybe if she dressed irresistible to bed, then she would be able to coax him to do a little something-something.
She looked over her shoulder, making sure his back was still turned, then she quickly took off all her clothes and slipped on the small nightgown. It was a sky blue silky nightgown that reached just below her butt cheeks. Beautiful lace went around the trimming, up the slip, and around her breasts. She quickly ruffled up her hair and put a touch of clear gloss on her lips. Satisfied with her look, she turned around and sashayed over to the bed.
Yamcha was just crawling into bed when he finally looked up at her, and to her disappointment... had, no reaction to her look. He just smiled at her, said goodnight, and then laid down in bed, presenting his back to her.
Defeated yet again, her mouth fell open. With an aggravated sigh, she turned back around to her bag and pulled out her matching floor-length silk robe, and tossed it over her shoulders. "I'm going to get a glass of water," She mumbled over her shoulder as she stepped back out of the tent, not even bothering to wait for a response.
Mumbling and grumbling the whole way to the makeshift kitchen, she grabbed a cup and filled it with cold water. After taking two large gulps, she slammed the cup onto the table and found herself staring at the longhouse. The ghost had asked her to come back later tonight, would now be a good time? Before she knew it, her feet were moving forward and taking her straight to the ax. She just wanted to feel wanted and desired again, and deep down, she knew she would get the reaction she wanted from her Viking ghost. Even though nothing can happen after that, at least she would get her desired reaction and nothing like her new fiencé presenting his back.
Without hesitation, she picked the ax back up and was expecting to still see celebrating Vikings around her. But the scene that slowly rippled its way before her was nothing of the sort. Her eyes grew wide in horror, and her hand shot over her mouth to muffle a scream. Dead bodies littered about the floor, blood everywhere. The only thought that came across her mind was of her Viking ghost and what could be happening to him.
Without a second thought, she spun around and ran back out of the longhouse in search of her Viking.
And that was the chapter! What do you think? And yes, next chapter is going to be the long awaited moment. I can not wait to get that out to you guys. Please leave me a review, I love hearing from you. See you next chapter!