Among The Daffodils
2: The Moon & Black Dahlias
AN: eek, I hope you all enjoyed the previous chapter…allow us to dive right into this next one. For the intents and purposes of this fic, Bulla is closer in age to Trunks. (By a 2 year difference, Trunks is 21, Bulla is 18 and Marron is 19)
There was tension simmering within the palace walls, as the esteemed guests returned to their bed chambers, the three members of the royal family stood across from each other, high-strung and anxiety ridden as time ticked by. A blue-haired princess made it explicitly clear how much her emotions were affected by the disconcerting statements her father made.
"Father this is ludicrous!" The Saiyan Princess exclaimed, her gold tipped boots practically reverberating echoes across the dining hall. "The earthling princess is a weakling she couldn't possibly sire a Saiyan–"
Vegeta's eyes rose, dangerously eyeing his daughter which triggered her silence. "Eschalotte I recommend you watch your tongue, your mother was of the same constitution," Vegeta wasn't receptive to the harsh criticism of the "weaker" species. Though he understood the angle where she came from, he wouldn't tolerate such disrespect from the younger princess.
Bulla held her tongue, knowing she must tread carefully as she met his piercing gaze. Inhaling slightly as she recomposed her temper. "But father, isn't it wise we appeal to our people who already hold an unfavorable stance on our status of legitimacy?" Her question was a valid concern.
Their favorability was rather low and legitimacy to the throne was questioned regularly . Were some half-bloods really meant to be leaders of the Saiyan people? And what of the blood line if the future King were to sire a child with another human. The bloodline would forever be tarnished!
"You two are my children , anyone who doesn't see it that way will have to meet the feel of my boot crushing their bones," Vegeta responded, watching his son as he became rather despondent.
"Brother," Bulla announced, "you couldn't possibly be considering this insanity?"
"Well," Trunks paused, much deliberation laced in his voice. His gaze shifted from the other two. "I'm not opposed to the union per se–"
Bulla scoffed, her eyes flickering between the two men. Was she the only one who cared about the standing of the royal family? "You can't possibly be serious… Trunks! "
Trunks pressed his lips into a thin line, as he crossed his arms together—head tilted to the side. "Think of it this way, we are making a noble sacrifice—securing another union with Earth could help our people greatly," he replied simply.
"But for the prince, nay – the crown prince– to do so?" Bulla pressed, pushing back the silky blue bangs away from her eyes, "father wouldn't it be better to marry her off to some duke, perhaps Cabba?"
"Oh I see where this is coming from Eschalotte–" Trunks replied, a smirk beginning to creep upon his lips. Trunks only made it a point to refer to Bulla by her Saiyan name when he wanted to dig into the point further. "You don't want to marry Duke Cabba so you want to pawn it off to the Earth princess."
"Well I don't think there is anything necessarily wrong with Duke Cabba," Bulla's hand flourished, her face flustered at the accurate accusation her brother pointed out. "H-He is simply, far older than me, by twenty years might I add…" she continued her gaze pointing over to her father.
"Eschalotte—age is not of consequence in a political marriage—" Vegeta replied, his breath heavy as he pinched the skin between his brows. Moments like these helped him remember Bulma's ill-tempered moments…especially at the beginning of her union with him.
How often did they get into squabbles akin to that of his daughter and he? It seems like even without her here to raise Bulla, the stubborn trait carried through. Bulla threw her hands into the air, frustration evident in her tightly knit facial expressions. "How could you possibly say that, father?!" she exclaimed. Her composure had finally cracked, and out came the steam from her ears. " Trunks gets to marry a girl his age and I don't."
"Now I just think she's being a brat," Trunks grimaced with a slightly uncomfortable chuckle as he turned to his father, garnering a gobsmacked reaction from the younger sibling.
Vegeta rolled his eyes. His daughter was being unreasonable, his match making skills were not out of love—but strategy. " Eschalotte , you are merely eighteen, there is no other match better suited for a Saiyan Princess, you should be grateful someone of Duke Cabba's caliber wants to marry you."
"Father, I just feel like I could find someone better, " Bulla huffed out. "You mean to tell me there isn't a single noble with even a drop of Saiyan blood who would be a love match?"
"Love matches are things of fairy tales," Vegeta hissed through gritted teeth, the frustration seeping through his voice at his daughter's question. "I suggest you realign your sights—" He grumbled, taking a swig out of the chalice sitting on the long table.
"This is impossible ," Bulla finally replied, turning on her heel, her royal pink cape following suit as she strutted out of the room.
Trunks watched as his sister stormed out the dining hall, he stood still watching as the guards shut the door behind her. It was a valid concern she held, but what was he really to do? Earth provided an endless supply of technology, food and armor to Earth thanks to the alliance his grandfather King Vegeta the III secured with the Briefs Duchy…
An alliance with the Kame Kingdom could eliminate tariffs, and strengthen their manpower exponentially. With their technological prowess, humans rivaled the once fallen Tuffles. The supply of quality food from Earth could certainly be of a benefit to Vegeta-Sei. "Son," Vegeta began, gruffly as he placed his chalice down. "You understand what you must do…correct?"
Trunks smirked, as he dusted off his gloved hands. "Well, it seems you're already decided for me–haven't you?" He asked, a twinge of playfulness peeking through his voice.
"On my side, yes—" Vegeta paused, his gloved hands gripping the back of the chair. "But you must officially court Princess Marron, it's a tedious process earthlings put you through but to properly ask an Earth woman for their hand in marriage it is a necessary step."
"Oh–" Trunks paused, he wasn't quite prepared to hear that. Earthling courtship was not something he knew much about in the first place. "That shouldn't be a problem—" Trunks could only feign confidence in this scenario, watching warily as his father shook his head.
"Earthlings are very different," Vegeta drummed his fingers against his forearm, recalling his days as a mere prince vying for the Duchess of Briefs. "Your entire life, you've been in the shadows, it's high time your sister and you stand proud of your heritage."
"And what if I fail, what if I cannot get her to follow your request?"
"Then make her see otherwise, failure isn't an option," Vegeta gruffly replied, "we will play the Earthling's game—and if not force their hand until the Princess is sitting beside you as the Queen Consort of Vegeta-Sei."
Marron's return to her bedchambers was certainly not a quiet one, her already rambunctious personality felt as if it had arrived at a tipping point and she felt any minute now she was going to burst at the seams from her anger. How could her parents just willingly consent to even the courtship of a Saiyan royal. Their only daughter?!
Marron flopped her body against the bed, her arms covering her face as she quivered from her own tears. "Your highness," Valese creaked the door open, clad in her nightgown watching the royal weep.
Marron sat up, her tear-stung eyes meeting Valese's vibrant green ones. "What's the matter, your highness?" Valese asked, as she inched closer to the weeping woman, Valese's face aghast at Marron's pained expression.
She wiped her tears, sitting upright on the bed. "I—" Marron paused, taking a deep breath before daring to resume. She wasn't being " forced" to marry Prince Trunks– at least that's what her parents pressed when she abruptly left after dinner. But Marron knew better, this betrothal was all but confirmed. Her parents willingness to approve of such a union made it clear as day to her that politics aside she would hardly have a say in the union.
She could only be thankful her mother insisted on courting rather than accepting the betrothal request at face value–but even that, is just to save face in the eyes of the court of the Kame Kingdom. A hasty betrothal was never good. But her fate was already set, wasn't it? King Vegeta, her parents— they seemed to have forgotten about Marron's choice.
"I'm to be married off…to Prince Trunks…" Marron could feel her body giving out from the quivering fear and emotions.
It wasn't that he wasn't a handsome man, but he was a Saiyan, the bloodthirsty cousin of the Earthlings, they were devoid of any gentleness or care according to many legends. Why should she have to be subjected to such a fate?
"Your highness," Valese glanced at the princess, her stomach churning at the thought of being stuck on this red space rock for longer than intended. "Y-You couldn't possibly think your parents—"
"They did, they suggested the union," Marron gritted her teeth as she glanced down at her delicate hands, picking the skin around her nails anxiously. The thought alone was unsettling, sure he was nice to glance at– but Saiyans were rather unpredictable beings. Unsettling beasts at the turn of the full moon.
"Don't they know what happened to the previous Earth royal that came to Vegeta-Sei, do they want the same fate for you?" Valese's words struck a chord with Marron, thrumming fear through her. Could they discard her like they did the Duchess of Briefs nearly seventeen years ago?
"My mother insisted on a courtship, back on Earth," Marron sighed out, playing with the lace detailing of her dress. The mere thought of having to be courted for the sake of this forced betrothal was beyond Marron's understanding. Her mother couldn't possibly think this is a good idea.
"So you still have a choice ," Valese pressed, a small smile on her face. "It's not the end of the world…"
"Valese you do not understand," Marron continued, as she rested her hands still exasperated that she needed to divulge further. "I merely have been given the illusion of choice."
"How so?" The brunette woman pressed, failing to understand the plight Marron has now been placed under.
"It's simply to save face, the betrothal was sealed in a written contract between them," Marron sighed out before rubbing her hands over her face. "The Freeza Corps…are moving ever closer to the milky way, if I do not follow through, we can lose a guaranteed protection," Marron pressed her lips together.
The Freeza Corps…carried a reputation far more grisly than anything the people of Vegeta-Sei have carried out. They were known to capture, enslave and eradicate. No thanks to the Narcissus-incarnate that sat at the head of it all–Freeza.
It was a duty she was going to be forced to carry out, though she would still try to find some way around it– as she had done many times before. "I'll be forced to do this for our home, our future ."
Valese knitted her thin brows together, watching the resolute expression on the blonde's face. "Your highness…your happiness shouldn't be a cost for our safety," Valese's voice was mixed in pain, and a crestfallen expression Marron couldn't quite put her finger on. Valese had been a lady in waiting for many years, confiding in her expertise of the court on the day to day–and keeping her entertained in the gossip that spread in the high society of the nobility.
As much as Marron wanted to find a solution, she knew there was not much she could do to force a different outcome." But as a member of the Kame nobility, I must put our people before myself," Marron responded gently, "but– I am crafty… maybe…"
Valese's eyes lit up, her hands reaching to the princess' who had suddenly sunk deeply into her own thoughts. "You could find some alternative," Valese pressed, "perhaps another earthling noble?"
"Who would be best to marry the Prince of Vegeta-Sei?" Marron asked herself, pensively turning her head over to Valese who's wide eyed expression soon shrunk at the words that followed suit. "You, my lady, or perhaps the Marquee of Mt. Paozu's daughter?"
"M-Me?!" Valese responded flustered. "Wouldn't it be disrespectful to His Royal Majesty to introduce a mere Baron's daughter?" She gasped, triggering Marron's eye to roll, as she flopped on her back once more.
"No..none of that would work," Marron huffed, brushing the bangs out of her face. "But I must figure something out, quickly. "
Trunks laid awake in his bed, an indescribably tight sensation overtaking his chest and throat as he stared up at the thick threads of red fabric that hung from the ceiling. He turned his face towards the grand circular window that overlooked the capital city, small glistening lights fluttering from below.
He'd stripped himself of his Saiyan Regalia, and yet it felt as if he was being strapped down by a million different ropes. He shut his eyes, hoping that the thoughts that currently were causing the sheer discomfort quelled themselves. But as he closed his eyes, the anxiety of his position came to a head.
He was to ensue in a courtship ritual with a culture he knew nothing of—and though his father did his absolute best to provide him with the best possible education that Vegeta-Sei could offer. Trunks knew he had a profound lack of knowledge on the other half of his blood. The human side of his genetic make up.
Unlike his younger sister, Trunks had some sparse memories of his mother. He'd be lucky to remember her face, or her voice– all that was left of her was asynchronous memories with no true timeline. His forgetfulness was not simply due to time, but because after restless searching images of her visage were stripped from the manor. But what Trunks could remember was the warmth of her touch– as soothing as the morning sun on one's skin.
Distant memories of running along the manor's library, along his mother's feet eagerly reaching towards books he couldn't hope to comprehend at the time – all of it were memories that were lost in the sands of time, and far too painful to dig back up to the surface.
He sat up on his bed, his gaze hard on the marble flooring of his bedchambers—even if the woman he was now being urged to marry was not for this union…she must understand the power that they both would hold in the mere palms of their hands? A duchess and duke would bring some resources, a princess and prince however…
His mind flitted back to their initial meeting in the library. Her eyes held a flicker of rebellion that ignited a profound excitement within him, curiosity was interwoven into every facet of his being at the sight of her face.
It wasn't for the mere fact she was a human . Sure, it was a factor, but for Trunks it was more than just that. The mere sight of her gentle composition throughout the corridors of the library he frequented brought out a memory–or perhaps a dream, he'd never seen before.
Of a world unlike that of his own, but still familiar. Something so palpable yet out of his reach.
There was something .
And he was desperate to know what.
He was about to lay himself back down to his bed, but felt a tiny flicker of ki past his door. Pink , he thought as he looked towards the thick wooden door. His body moved on its own towards the door, opening it up to find her.
She was staring up at a portrait hung in the halls, her demure and small body wrapped in a blanket as she glanced up at the image hung on the walls.
"Correct me if I'm wrong," Trunks began watching as her shoulders hitched at the sound of his voice. "But isn't a lady supposed to have a chaperone at all times, lest her integrity be questioned?"
"That is only if she is caught with a man ," Marron corrected, as she tightened her blanket around herself to find him standing mere inches away from her. As the blonde turned her head, she found the Saiyan royal glancing down at her, not breaking eye contact with her, mere inches from her.
And quickly she bloomed like a rose, she did not need to be caught with the likes of him. "Am I not a man to you, your highness?" His voice was like a silent purr. It slipped out naturally, his intent wasn't to question how he saw her. But, here he was, doing just that.
"Are you questioning my integrity, your highness ?" Marron replied as she turned around to face the stone walls of the halls.
"How could I do that?" He replied, as he hung himself back from the small woman. "I could never think so lowly of a member of the royal family." Marron wasn't sure if his statement was in jest, or if it held some truth behind the silvery way his words sounded. She let out a soft exhale, her gaze meeting the floor as her fingers tightened their grip around the blanket.
"Well then–" Marron cleared her throat as she quickly tried to dodge his gaze.
"Wait–" Trunks called out, his hand reaching out towards her. Though failing to touch her, Marron was still surprised at the outright motion. "Why are you roaming these halls so late?"
Marron pushed a puff of air out of her nose, denoting a slight annoyance. Drawing in her breath as she corrected her posture, to exert more authority. "The room I'm in is terribly stuffy, and–due to the unprecedented information I received during our dinner…I wanted to go for a walk."
"Then why not the palace grounds?" Trunks responded, gently taking a step forward. Marron eyed him up and down, the suspicion still taking hold of her as she carefully examined the Saiyan Prince. His clothing he wore was what she'd expected, that gaudy blue spandex that clung to their every crevice.
She wouldn't be caught dead wearing that, Queen of Vegeta-Sei or not—she'd remain with her royal garbs from Earth. "Because I did not have an escort, nor could I call on any of your servants to do so," Marron knitted her brows, the question did not need to be posed…and it seemed like the prince simply wanted to keep a conversation flowing.
"Then allow me, I too cannot sleep from the news," he responded breathily watching as the blonde princess deliberated on the option for a moment.
"Fine, I'll allow it," Marron's expression was not a joyous one, more-so complacent with the circumstances. The walk towards the grounds was a quiet one. Marron considered herself quite spoiled being an inhabitant of the flora and fauna of Earth, as the lack of diversity in the Saiyan palace grounds were…certainly underwhelming.
Thickets of greenery with not much else popping out of the bushes, an odd assortment of plants that seemed to hail from different parts of the galaxy. "Tell me, are all these plants native to Vegeta-Sei?" Marron asked as she eyed the strange plants closer, the one she stood by was a tall, red plant with scales that ran along the stem and opened up at the tip with teeth like petals.
"No, Vegeta-Sei, as I'm sure you are aware, is a rather dry planet–not many plants we have here are native to the planet," Trunks pointed out, watching as Marron's hands gently pressed against the plant she was eyeing.
"Don't mind me asking, your highness—but have you ever been outside of Vegeta-Sei?" She asked, her gaze turning from the plant to him directly. Her piercing, icy blue clashing directly with his deep, royal blue.
She held no qualms speaking to him so directly–and it made sense–they were raised in the same standing, being direct was in her blood. "A few times," he clicked his tongue. "Diplomacy efforts that went awry mainly…"
Marron blinked, a small nod as she continued to look through the unimpressive garden. "And you, have you visited other planets?"
"Many times, Namek, Cereal, Arlia, I could go on.." Marron continued, before she stopped in her tracks at the burgundy dahlias that sat at the end of the walkway. She crouched down to the black flowers, their abrasive spikes as she softly poked the flower. "This flower is from Earth," Marron said in awe, watching as the flower swung gently back into place.
The prince crouched down to the same level as she, his expression hardened as he watched the flower. "My mother brought them when she was betrothed to my father," his voice wavered.
Marron turned her face towards him, noting the sudden change within him. Her arms hugged her knees as the blanket hung over her shoulders. "Are you seriously considering courting me?" Marron finally asked the question that hung over her head.
"Is there someone else?" He asked gently, watching her dejected expression shift to one of quick embarrassment. This human princess was much too amusing to watch, wearing her emotions bravely. He could read her like a book. And it reminded him of something that memory failed to serve.
"No–" Marron quickly rose, attempting to hide her face.
"Then I must fulfill my duty, I already gave Her Majesty my word," Trunks replied simply as he dusted himself off, watching as she ungracefully hung the blanket over her head, with only her face peeking through.
"You don't have to do such a thing," Marron's lips pouted. "You could pick any noble from Earth, I can arrange it–"
"No," his voice was firm, "it has to be you," he murmured, feeling as the words slipped out without much thought, as if someone else spoke for him.
The strangest sense of deja vu struck the two, as an air of familiarity brushed past them.
Marron watched him carefully, feeling confident in herself as she slowly tilted her face. Her body dared to move on its own accord, glancing up at the Prince's moonlit face. "And if I say no?" She asked, her voice sprinkled with defiance
"You won't," Trunks responded, his gaze steady at her parted lips.
They've had this conversation before.
"Is that a challenge , my prince?" Marron's own voice didn't feel as if it were her own intangible memories that were mere whispers the woman could hardly hear. Was she out of her mind? Why did she keep pushing him?
"Are you giving me a challenge?" He replied, the thrill of challenge eliciting excitement in him.
But why couldn't they remember?
Marron, beyond her own wits, stopped herself firmly planting her feet and creating distance between her and the prince. "Sure, let's call it that." Admittedly, there was no denying the contradictory beauty of the half-blooded Saiyan…soft human-like features paired with the ferocity of a Saiyan.
If she wasn't terrified of him, she'd melt at the closeness.
Trunks was thankful she broke the hypnotic spell it seemed they were under. But quickly, his mind searched for why. "Are you so against such a high esteemed betrothal with the Crown Prince of Vegeta-Sei?" He pressed as he walked behind her.
"I'm against lacking a say in the matter, is all," Marron bitterly slipped out.
"We both know this courting ritual is nothing more than to save face for your people and their dated ideas of what a union consists of," Trunks paused, licking his teeth as he brushed the silky lavender locks off his forehead, "so, we may as well get to know each other."
Marron's gaze met the dahlia once more, tears daring to brim her eyes once more. Nothing of what he said was untrue, every last bit was true. She'd hoped that her parents would carefully consider a love match for her—much like the rest of the nobility of Earth. But, it seemed she was to be the martyr.
The lone princess sent off to a planet of brutes for the sake of her home. Much like the Duchess of Briefs, it was now her turn to have to suffer the burden. But, the mischievous Princess now found herself in the arms of a betrothal she could not break out of. She was as defiant as her mother, it seemingly ran in her blood…she wasn't going down without a fight.
AN: OK guys, ORIGINALLY I had a totally different idea for this chapter, but then I got to actually writing it and...I think I made the write choice. Comments as always appreciated 3 Loved to know your thoughts !