King Vegeta's funeral was held the following day. Bulma didn't know of it until the night before, when the Prince finally entered their chambers and grunted about the processions that were to take place.
"What should I wear?" Bulma asked, not having ever attended a saiyan funeral before.
Vegeta assisted her in selecting an outfit: a wine red gown (red having been the King's favorite color), along with a tiara of matching jewels. She wore this, along with sparkling heels the morning of the funeral.
The wind blew hard on Vegetasai as Bardock gave a speech about the King's achievements during his reign. Other important looking individuals also gave eulogies, discussing the brutality that the King was capable of while the crowd cheered. Vegeta stood stoically through this all, his hands balled into fists at his sides.
What shocked Bulma the most about the saiyan funeral was the disposal of the body. Once all eulogies were complete and the heartbreaking sound of horns finished their mournful song, Bardock approached the casket that had been set on display. As Bulma watched, he opened it. Confused, she looked up to see her husband's reaction. He was staring straight ahead, his jaw tight.
While the crowd stood in silence, Bardock lifted the casket as if it weighed as little as a piece of paper. He carried it to a pile of sticks and grass that had been assembled beside the podium. And he set the casket against it, upright, with the King's body on display for all to see.
Bulma felt her stomach churning. The scene that was unfolding looked like something in particular was going to happen, and she didn't want to think of that. Surely not… Surely, not!
With a loud clearing of his throat, Bardock pointed his index finger to a dry spot on the pile of brush. An ember elicited, and quickly the fire began to expand. Slowly it began to rise, calmly enveloping the casket as it grew.
Oh, no. Bulma couldn't watch this. How could anybody possible watch this?! She gasped and covered her mouth, looking at her husband again with horrified eyes. Still, he was staring at his father, taking in the site of the corpse that was being burned to ash for all to see. Vegeta's jaw was even tighter, his eyebrows furrowed as the flames reflected in his temples.
The smell was horrendous, and tears were streaming down Bulma's cheeks. She closed her eyes, shaking her head to ward off the nausea. This was absolutely horrible. Shocking. Nothing that she would have expected to be in the realm of possibilities! She wanted to run. To race as far away from the smoke billowing into the sky as possible. To find a place to sob out her cultural shock.
But she couldn't. This wasn't her place. Vegeta was being very stoic about it, but she couldn't imagine what was going through his mind as he watched this happening to his own father. Yet the Princess couldn't open her eyes, couldn't bear to see what state the King's body was currently in. Blindly she reached out until she found the Prince's hand, still tightened into a fist. She caressed his knuckles carefully, hoping he would be receptive to her comfort.
He did not react to her strokes in the slightest.
When the body was nothing more than a pile of ash mixed in with the remnants of the brush pile, each saiyan began to disband from the concession. Bulma was shaking when she opened her eyes and followed her husband's lead towards the palace, her heart racing in her chest.
Once they reached the palace entrance, Bulma took sight of Nova. She was leaned against the door in wait, her eyes glued on the Prince as they approached. And she finally broke her silence when they were mere feet from her, her button nose turned towards the ceiling as she spoke.
"My Prince, should I make arrangements for your coronation?"
The Prince halted so abruptly that Bulma walked into his back, but he took no notice. "Why would you do that?"
"Vegeta, you're the king now. All kings must be coronated. You know that," Nova began.
"No." He spat.
"But-"
"I said no!" He snarled, causing Nova to back up. "This is the first thing you say to me after my father's funeral service?! I am to immediately move on to being king with a celebration?! There's nothing to celebrate!"
The boom in his voice concerned Bulma, even though it was not her that it was directed towards. She placed a soothing hand to his shoulder, giving him an assuring squeeze. All too quickly Vegeta stopped with his rant, turning to look at Bulma with a shocked expression.
Her eyes were still puffy from the silent tears, her cheeks stained pink. She looked back at him with glistening irises. He gulped, studying her, taking in her soft features while she stared so morosely. And then he put his head down, and together they continued their walk towards their chambers.
Biting her lip, Nova watched the two progress down the corridor. There would need to be a coronation, whether Vegeta wanted one or not, and she knew it. Perhaps Bulma would convince him in the privacy of their room. With this thought Nova growled with a pang of jealousy. Why was Bulma the one in the position to influence the Prince so greatly? How did she have the power to calm his rage so easily, and without even uttering a word? It wasn't fair… Nova had known Vegeta exponentially longer, and yet she had no power over him the way that blue haired princess did…
"I have to take care of a few things," Vegeta said to Bulma once they were out of earshot. "Are you okay returning to the chambers on your own?"
"Of course," She said softly. "But, Prince, are you sure? You should-"
"It can't wait. I'll return as soon as possible." He cut in, his voice softening. He finally looked up to her eyes, and he put a hand to her cheek. "I'm glad you were here today," He muttered. Bulma merely stared into his pupils with that morose expression of hers, and all too soon Vegeta departed in the opposite direction.
/
His arms crossed, Vegeta sat behind a giant screen. In front of him two saiyans in green garbs typed quickly on their keyboards. One of the many tedious tasks that needed to be performed as the new King, Vegeta needed to have calls with each planet ruled under the saiyan empire, explaining the death of his father and his new position as King.
The final planet they contacted was Earth, and on the screen appeared Kakarot's face.
"How are things, Kakarot?" Vegeta growled. He was ready to be done with all of these calls, his mood having grown sour with each one they made.
"Boring. I have nobody good to spar with," Kakarot moaned.
"I wasn't referring to that." Vegeta spat. "How are things on Earth?!"
"Oh!" Kakarot jerked his posture straight. "All is at peace here on Earth, there is nothing to report"
"Good" Vegeta replied. "My father is dead."
"That's nice, so how are things over there?" Kakarot said, and then his eyes widened. "What - what'd you say?!"
"He was ambushed. I'm positive Frieza had something to do with it, as retaliation for my marriage with the Princess."
"So that means you're king…" Kakarot's jaw dropped.
"No shit."
"What's next, then?" Kakarot backed away from the screen, preparing for his king's explosion of rage.
"We organize a plan of vengeance!" Vegeta snarled. "I can't declare war yet, but blood will be shed in retribution of my father!"
"Woah, woah!" Kakarot put his hands up. "Easy, now!"
"Don't you tell me to take it easy, Kakarot! My father is dead!"
"And that isn't my fault! Jeez!" Kakarot replied. He put a hand to his head, grimacing at the screen. "By the way, the King wants to speak to you."
"Of course he does." Vegeta growled, and then King Briefs appeared on the screen in Kakarot's place. "Vegeta."
"King Briefs," He grunted.
"How is my daughter?" King Briefs asked. His voice was noticeably quieter than it had been the last time the two spoke, his eyes sunken in.
"She is doing well. I apologize that she wasn't able to say goodbye properly when we left. That was my fault."
"It's alright, but listen. I would like to send two diplomats to Vegetasai. My daughter needs to be updated on things going on within the Earth kingdom. Things are changing very quickly for her, as she will soon be the Queen of both Earth and Vegetasai."
"What do you mean?" Vegeta frowned.
"My health is failing me," King Briefs smiled weakly. "Don't tell her. Please."
"I cannot promise that." Vegeta replied truthfully. "I just lost my own father. Who am I to deny her such information?"
"She can't do anything from where she is at, and it would be too dangerous for her to make a trip to Earth right now. Not with the current shifts in leadership. Please don't tell her." King Briefs elaborated. "Please accept my diplomats with as much graciousness as we accepted you and your father. Take care of them."
"I will. They will be treated like royalty during their stay."
"Thank you. And thank you for sending the battalion. It is fortunate we did not need it," The King said. And then Kakarot was on the screen again.
"Kakarot, I want you back here in a week. Return with those diplomats." Vegeta ordered. "I will need you as my second in command."
Much to Vegeta's surprise, Kakarot's eyes widened at this. He didn't look nearly as excited as one would expect, especially considering how bored he'd just complained about being.
"What is it?" Vegeta shot. "Spit it out. What is your hesitancy?"
"Well, umm… I didn't want to tell you like this, Vegeta…" He mumbled.
"Oh, no." Vegeta put a palm to his face. "Don't tell me-"
"Chi-Chi will need to come with me. She's, erm-"
"You idiot!" Vegeta spat. "You mean to tell me that she is with child?! Are you stupid, or just selfish?!"
"I didn't mean to!" Kakarot squeaked. "It just sort of happened!"
"You know exactly what happened to my mother during my birth, and she was still of saiyan blood. You expect that woman to survive a labor?!" Vegeta snarled. "This is an insult to my mother's memory! You should have learned from the stories!"
"I did! I did!" Kakarot whined, and Vegeta rolled his eyes. This man was about to be a father, and he was actually whining . "Look, I couldn't help it!"
"You could have kept your seed in your pants," Vegeta spat. "Or used some sort of method to prevent implantation. Didn't anyone ever explain that to you?!"
"Look, yelling at me now won't help!" Kakarot wailed. "And besides, Chi-Chi says there a procedure here on Earth that might work to keep her alive. Apparently some women give birth with surgeries instead of-"
"Surgical birth?" Vegeta scoffed. "Who would have heard of such a thing? She was lying, Kakarot!"
"I don't think she was! Look, we'll bring an Earth doctor with us. Apparently they have a way of cutting the baby out without killing the mother."
"You're an idiot." Vegeta spat. "Truly an imbecile. But I'll see you soon."
"Thanks, Vegeta." Kakarot smiled. "We'll be there in a week."
It was evening before Vegeta showed up to the chambers. Bulma had been pacing about the room, forming blueprints in her mind of a gift she wanted to make Vegeta. To give him something to try and cheer his spirits in the aftermath of everything that had happened that day. She wanted to design him a robot that could assist in training, but she was having trouble deciding on a game plan when she wasn't sure of the materials that were available on Vegetasai. Bulma wanted to support him, to let him know she would be there for him. She didn't want him to feel alone, and she was sure that he did.
He was her husband, wasn't he? She couldn't stand he idea of him feeling alone.
When Vegeta walked in Bulma gasped, taking note of the bruises splattered upon her husband's body. "What happened?!"
"Nothing." Vegeta growled, his eyes to the carpet. "I'm going to shower."
"You're all messed up," Bulma said.
"I was training with Bardock." Vegeta grunted. "It helps me get my mind off things."
He began to move away, but Bulma grabbed his hand to stop him. "Wait," She breathed. He stopped obediently, and she looked into his dark eyes. "I missed you, Vegeta."
"Right," He said, his tone considerably less harsh than it had been a few moments earlier.
"Please don't shut me out," Bulma breathed. "Not in your grief, nor in your schedule."
Raising an eyebrow, Vegeta looked his wife over - and he really looked at her. "What are you implying?"
"You know very well," She said sadly. And then she put a hand to his cheek. "Don't do it. Please."
"Princess…" He muttered. Her touch always did something to him, making him forget about all his worries. Even in a moment like that, he was forgetting his initial goal to have a shower. "Whatever would put such a thought in your head should be destroyed."
"I want to know you," Bulma whispered. "I want to be your wife."
"What a silly thing to say," Vegeta took hold of her hand. "You know perfectly well-"
"We are married, but I want to be your wife ." Bulma said. "No distance between us, no barriers. Can we forget about what happened on our wedding day?"
"I thought we-"
"We haven't forgotten. You know you've acted differently towards me." She smiled, her eyes glistening. "Let's go back to how things were before we were married."
What she was expressing was such an unexpected proclamation. It was coming out of left field, completely unsolicited and rather shocking. Was she being true with this? Or was it merely pity that influenced such words? Vegeta pulled her hand from her cheek, his lips grazing her knuckles gingerly. His eyes not leaving hers.
Letting out a deep breath, Bulma's expression softened into relief. And carefully he took hold of her jaw. He leaned in, his lips finding hers. She simply fell into his hold, her body nuzzling into his as they kissed. And it felt so inviting. So natural and with lack of any force.
The saiyan flipped the light switch that was near where they were standing. And slowly, his tongue sliding between her lips, he began to lead her to the plush bed. Bulma gripped him tighter, and allowed him to gently set her back onto it.
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