Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Amazon & Saiyan: Consequences ❯ Into the Maelstrom ( Chapter 5 )

A/N: Ok everyone. Sorry it took so long-but so many possibilities and vacation kept me away from the computer and rewriting for a long time. But it's here!

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT: For everyone on the update list (who should know already), and those of you who aren't, I've created a yahoo group for my stories-the Amazon & Saiyan Arc, as well as A Saiyan Homecoming. I'm trying to clear out one of my inboxes for school, and it just happens to be the email address the mailing list is on. The group gets all manner of exclusives, including some chances for artistic input and polls and such-as well as exclusives, and a chance to vote for what I work on next. But if, by chance, you don't want to join the group, the list is just changing email addresses for a few chapters-to lady_adestine@yahoo.com . After that, I will be running off the group alone. Oh-btw…the group can be found at: www.groups.yahoo.com/group/nadialist/

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

Amazon & Saiyan: Consequences

By Nadia Rose

Chapter Five: Into the Maelstrom

It was over. Chichi stood at the edge of her father's property, chest heaving, staring off in the sky in the direction that she knew her son had flown off in. Gohan was nowhere in sight, but she knew he had gone east, towards the sun. The young Saiyan had quickly forced his ki down once he realized she was following him, but he hadn't quite been fast enough. She'd already had a fix on him. Unfortunately for her, she couldn't run fast enough to catch him, and now Gohan was gone.

There was nothing more she could do.

Chichi sighed and peered off into the distance one last time before she turned to go back down the mountain. She was forced to take her time-it had been far too long since she had done any serious barefoot traveling, and now bruised feet joined her sore ankle in slowing her up. The cold thin air chilled the sweat on her body and stabbed at her lungs, almost making her dizzy-Mt. Frypan and the surrounding area was at a higher elevation than her home on Mt. Paotzu.

By the time she reached the camping area, she was so dizzy she had to stop and rest for a few minutes, and leaned against a convenient boulder to regain her strength. Unfortunately, the rock she was resting against was in plain view of the small group of campers staying in the clearing. They stared at her, goggle-eyed, and Chichi's stomach lurched. Not 15 minutes ago, a half-screaming woman had burst through their camp at almost inhuman speeds-and now she was lurched against a rock, probably looking like one of Shenlong's discarded chew-toys. Their curiosity had been more than peaked, and she was in no mood to answer foolish questions.

The campers formed a loose-half circle around her and one woman came forward warily. "Are you all right?"

Chichi sank to the ground and nodded. "I'll be fine," she exhaled between gasps. "I'm just not used to this elevation anymore."

The woman exchanged a glance with the man closest to her and frowned. "That ground is cold, honey, you'll catch pneumonia before long."

The princess wondered if catching pneumonia would save her the trouble of having to sort her problems out immediately, but quickly cancelled that spurt of thought. Gohan would still be angry, Vegeta would be surlier than usual, and her father would be stuck in the middle. Delaying a resolution would only make things worse and allow Gohan's anger to exponentiate.

She sighed and wearily pushed her body up off the ground, all too aware of the watching men and her flimsy nightgown. She silently accepted the blanket another of the campers had surfaced with and wrapped it around her shoulders. "I'm sorry I disturbed your camp," she apologized reluctantly. "Did you enjoy your time here on Mt. Frypan?"

The campers looked confused. "I thought this was Fire Mountain," one exclaimed, pulling a map out of a nearby pack.

"Oh, it is," Chichi assured him quickly. "You're not lost. The locals just call Fire Mountain Mt Frypan because of the huge fires that raged here for years. It was practically suicide to try and climb it." She cut herself off before she could add that it was insanity to live there.

"So that explains the scorch marks and the trees," one man in thick glasses exclaimed, looking like Chichi had just told him the secret of life. "I'm a geologist, and Jane here," he pointed to the woman beside him, "is a vulcanologist. We noticed that all of the rocks around here are scorched, and the trees are very underdeveloped when you compare them to those on the next mountain." He continued blathering, ignoring the others' warning glares. "We were sure that there had to be some kind of catastrophe, but Jane couldn't find any volcanic vents in the area that would have contained the fire to this mountain-after all, there is a dead volcano in the vicinity and all…"

"Paul," one woman snapped, "We're on vacation, not in the middle of a lecture hall!"

"Sorry." The man was silent for a whole twenty seconds-Chichi kept track-before blurting out. "There had to be something to fuel the flames, because fires just don't burn for years without spreading, or burn at all without fuel."

Chichi forced a smile, despite the lump in her throat-they didn't know any better. "There is a legend that has been passed down in my family for many centuries. It says that in the time before time was even measured, demons roamed the earth, wreaking havoc and destruction wherever they went. One of the most vicious was the fire demon, who left fires that could burn without fuel for years in its wake. Legend has it that the demon was imprisoned in deep in the bowels of the earth beneath Fire Mountain, and the kinds who live there were rewarded for guarding the mountain with treasure beyond every imagination."

The campers looked at her like she was slightly insane, and Chichi couldn't blame them. A crying woman in a nightgown had appeared from nowhere, and was lecturing them on ancient folklore. "Are you saying that some mythical fire-god set some wildfires?"

"No," Chichi said flatly. "I was only six when the fires came," she continued softly, trying not to hear her brother scream, "and I don't remember much about it," she lied calmly through her teeth. "Only that it was hot." She had to almost physically force herself to keep from twitching as memories of fire, pain and blood raced through her mind.

The low roar overwhelmed them as the fires spreading across the dry fields that the locals were too frightened to tend to. The acrid taste of smoke that clogged her lungs and stung her eyes as they ran only heightened her panic. The dusty path trembled as the demon came closer, her father's roar only a whisper in the background. The tree in front of them caught fire, the great branches hissing as the flames took hold. Her brother's hands turned hard and rough as he physically pushed her away, shocking her with his callousness. Taro had never raised his hand against her in her life, especially after Mother had died. He had put himself between her and the demon, giving his life to save hers.

Taro's sacrifice had been in vain-she wasn't able to run fast enough, and the demon had closed in on her, bringing unnatural heat and burning light that frightened her even more than the sound of did. And then it had her; it had her by the ankles and it hurt; it hurt more than the molten metal Papa worked with and she couldn't get away, no matter how hard she screamed and struggled and it shook her by the shoulders and sent sparks cascading around them as those burning hands grabbed her hair…

"MISS!"

Chichi's eyes flew open to see the man and woman leaning over her, pale and worried. "Are you all right? You zoned out and almost started screaming."

The younger woman frowned, ignoring the headache she could feel coming on. "I'm fine-really." She managed a wobbly smile and handed the blanket back to them. "Just some bad memories."

Their expressions were doubtful. "Well," she said in a bit of a rush, "I have to head for home; there's always a mountain of things for me to do."

"Can we take you there?" The woman asked. "We rented a capsule vehicle-it's supposed to be good for most of the terrain around here."

The Princess shook her head. "It will never make it across the river," she informed, feeling a familiar presence lurking nearby. "I'll be fine-it's not that long of a walk." She began slowly edging her way back into the woods. "Enjoy your stay on Mount Frypan!"

Before they could react, she had melded back into the woods and was stumbling towards the familiar ki. Vegeta came into view a few minutes later, propping up an ancient tree in an imperious manner. She carefully picked her way beside him, resting her forehead against the tree's moss-covered bark.

"When this all smoothes over," she murmured to her mate, "I want you to teach me how to fly."

His surprise rolled across their bond to her.

"If I had flown, I could have caught Gohan today," she elaborated quietly. "I could have started to settle us out with him. Now I'll be lucky if I see him again in the next two months." She paused, and then continued in a quiet voice. "I've hurt him so badly he may never forgive me."

Vegeta grunted. "He is a Saiyan. They do not forgive easily."

She opened one dark eye to stare at him. "Neither do the cultures that comprise his human half." She moaned and tugged at a nightgown strap. "It will take a miracle to make him come back before he's a man." She sought for the slight ripple that was Gohan's ki, still heading east. Her expression turned hard. "At least he can survive on his own," her voice was bitter, "I ought to thank Piccolo for doing something right." She wanted to lash out at something; anything to vent some of the anger roiling inside her, but she hadn't the strength. It had all been sapped away by the morning's emotional roller-coaster ride and her desperate sprint after Gohan. "He'll come back," she assured herself quietly. "He still needs me."

Beside her, Vegeta snorted softly, wondering exactly when Gohan had decided he needed his mother. The boy was utterly self-reliant like any young Saiyan; his mother clung a little too much for the comfort of everyone involved.

He glanced over at his mate, who had her entire body leaning against the old tree trunk; shoulders slumped, feet bleeding from running on the sharp rocks. Her hair hung down her back in a mass of tangles, and when she opened her eyes, Vegeta saw the unguarded look of a female in considerable mental stress-for an instant, his mate looked like a heartbroken little girl. It was just as swiftly replaced by the tacit expression she wore everyday; an emotional mask to be sure, but still a façade. His Princess was a complex woman; as their bond continued to cement he was gradually becoming more and more aware of all the levels that made up who she was. He found her multiplicity as fascinating as he did her fighting skills, something he could explore and savor for their uniqueness.

Considering fighting, his mate would be unable to spare with him until her feet were healed, although her pride would require she try. He hoped that her sire had a full medical kit; he had seen far too many minor wounds that if left untreated, developed fatal infections. He would not lose his mate to something as trivial as that.

He grabbed her round the waist and slung her over one shoulder before she could protest. She tensed momentarily, then acquiesced and lay still. "Just avoid the path," she requested from somewhere below his elbows. "The campers are already too suspicious; and I can't take any more memories today."

* * * * * * *

Ox's breakfast preparations had been disrupted that morning by the sound of Gohan's shouting and departure, quickly followed by his daughter, and later, her mate. A few hours had passed, and none of them had returned. He'd left breakfast on the table and was making his way to his workshop, when Stewart, his chief steward, came running down the hall. "I'm sorry for disturbing you, your majesty, but the Queen has been sighted approaching the village!"

Ox frowned-there was only one woman his people referred to as the Queen, and her presence was always so rare that he was never sure if he should be pleased or worried. "You're sure it's her?"

"I know of no other women who ride a silver cloud," Stewart gushed, nearly panicking. He was afraid of her and with good reason-last time she visited she had threatened to kill him. "I came as fast as I could, but she's probably-"

The crash of the gong cut him off.

"Almost here," he finished weakly.

Ox heaved a mighty sigh. "Ready the Blue room, please. I don't know if she is staying, but we need to be prepared."

"Yes sir." Steward inclined his upper body in a quick bow and scurried off to find one of the housekeeping crew.

Almost reluctantly, the giant king made his way to what had once been the front gate, where a figure shrouded in a heavy cloak waited next to the gong. When he was within range, the woman removed her hood, revealing dark auburn hair almost the color of blood, a shade he had only seen on one other soul: that of his son. Taro had died because he had not allowed them to go to this woman after her sister's death.

"Merebai," he greeted courteously.

Cool silver eyes met his for a moment before pink lips spread in a practiced smile. "It's good to see you again, Gyuu," her musical voice was as firm as ever. "I hope I'm not intruding."

"No," he returned politely, offering her his arm, "although I am curious as to what could possibly inspire you to leave your sauna of an island to visit my icebox here in the mountains."

His use of an old joke formed a twist of a bitter smile on her face. "I am here to see Chishali," she announced as if he didn't already know that was the only thing she came for, resting her delicate hand on his forearm. Ox covered it with his own huge hand, reminded that no matter how fragile these Amazon women seemed they were truly as strong as the rocks the planet was built upon. And with those of the royal family, tempers fiercer than the great fires of the core. "She is still here?"

"Yes," he answered as he led her across the courtyard. "There was some trouble with Gohan this morning, and Chi-chan is out, but she'll be back later."

Merebai cocked her head. "Trouble with your heir, Gyuu?"

Ox gave up on politeness. "Chi-chan has taken a new mate," he told her bluntly.

Merebai's face showed none of the expressions he imagined it would. Instead, she merely nodded. "I know." He must have radiated his confusion, because she smiled. "The Seeress sees many things," she elaborated. "Your grandson does not like him?"

"Gohan believes his father is still alive," Ox stated flatly.

"Son Goku is a survivor, so that may well be possible," Merebai allowed. "But if Chishali was forced to look elsewhere for fulfillment, then he is not truly her husband." She paused for a long moment. "He has been gone for how long?"

"Four years, off and on," Ox replied stiffly. All of this talk of abandoning mates made him uncomfortable. What if his son-in-law was still alive?

One red eyebrow rose. "Hmph. She has lasted far longer than many could." A long pause. "Chishali has her duty to us to consider as well. You have your heir, but we do not have ours yet."

Ox could no help from getting angry. "My daughter is not a baby factory." He was polite-but just barely.

"Of course she isn't!" Merebai assured. "No Amazon is. Chishali and Medea are our heirs, but neither of them have a daughter, and they are not getting any younger." With a practiced move, Merebai flicked her spectacular hair behind her shoulders. Ox noticed that there were gray streaks running through it now-the Amazon was finally starting to show her age.

He looked down at the collected woman and reminded himself that Merebai's comments were a part of her culture; that his precious 'Tavia had been raised the same way, and they had lived together quite happily for years. He could deal with her sister for a few days. He was saved from thinking up a reply when her head turned to peer off up the mountain. "They're coming back," she informed. "I like the feel of his ki," she continued after a moment. "It may seem dark, but inside it's as clear and firm as the base of the Fountain. And Chishali's," her voice was smug, "is brighter than ever."

They were in sight then, the Saiyan Prince carrying his daughter, who was not pleased with the situation. As soon as his feet touched the cobbled courtyard she tried to get down, but he wouldn't let her. "I'm not an invalid Vegeta! They're just scratched!"

Ox's gaze rested upon her feet, which were smeared red with blood, and he started to detach himself from Merebai's side to fetch a first-aid kit. His sister-in-law was quicker. She clapped her hands sharply, summoning Stewart from where he had been lurking in the shadows, awaiting instructions. "Bring me a basin of water and some towels," she ordered.

Chichi's head snapped from where she had been locked into a staring contest with Vegeta. "Aunt Bai?"

"Of course," the Queen of Amazons retorted with the first true smile Ox had seen from her yet. "Am I not allowed to visit my favorite niece?"

Chichi's face broke into a weak smile-she was as fond of her mother's sister as the Queen was of her. "I'm the only niece you're allowed to claim."

"Actually, I can claim Medea now too," Merebai was shedding her heavy cloak to reveal long sleeves and pants that seemed ludicrous to Ox-she couldn't actually be that cold. She extended her hand to Chichi, neatly pulling the younger woman out of Vegeta's grasp and helping her hobble to a nearby bench. "It took me ages to figure out how to keep her while keeping her bastard of a father alienated, but it's been done."

Vegeta was now giving her a stare that could have matched one of Octavia's. Merebai didn't even flinch.

"How is Medea doing?" Chichi questioned, ignoring her feet for the moment.

"Happy to be one of the family again, but she has no desire to be more than a Princess, ever." Merebai slid off the bench as Stewart and Ox's housekeeper shuffled forward with a basin of steaming water and a first-aid kit. "Just set them down," she ordered peremptorily. "I can handle things from here."

"I can bandage my own feet!" Chichi protested, looking uncomfortable at the thought of her Queen doing something so mundane.

"Feet are awkward to tend yourself," Merebai replied evenly, wetting a cloth. "You tend for yourself all the time, Chishali. At least let me do this much for you." When Chichi started to protest, the woman gave her a stern look. "No Chishali. Just relax."

The Queen began to wash the girl's feet with practiced ease, continuing to chatter. "So are you going to introduce me? Or is guessing the name of the new family member some new fad I don't know about?"

Chichi had the grace to look abashed. "Sorry. I'd forgotten you hadn't met. Aunt Bai, this is Vegeta, my mate. Vegeta, this is my Aunt, Merebai D'Amazon."

Merebai looked up at Vegeta and nodded, since Vegeta made no effort to acknowledge the introduction. "It is convenient to finally meet the Prince of Saiyans," she commented calmly, continuing to blot at Chichi's feet. "I finally have a face to go with the name now."

Ox watched with very little surprise as the man focused all of his attention to her, hackles raised. "How did you know that?"
"Vegeta,' Chichi snapped. "Aunt Bai is a Queen, you can't just…"

"It's all right, Chishali," Merebai soothed. "Like ninety-nine point eight percent of our population, the Prince is not aware that the Amazons have aided the Guardian of this planet since before there was a Guardian. Vegeta, on behalf of the only government acknowledging the fact that there are aliens on Earth, welcome to our planet."

Ox was pleased to see that while Vegeta wasn't pleased with his non-anonymity, he wasn't going to question it now. Instead, his stomach rumbled, reminding Ox of the small market of food piled on one of the tables. He beckoned Vegeta away, leaving the two women on their own to discuss whatever Amazon women talked about when alone. He was just glad to be away from Merebai-before he decided to try and hurt her.

Chichi and Merebai watched as the two men left for the kitchens. "You pressed Papa's buttons again," Chichi commented to her Aunt, wincing slightly as a slight movement of her foot broke a few scabs.

Merebai shrugged, strong fingers staunching the blood flow with a rag. "I like your father very much-in fact, your mother never would have admitted she loved him if I hadn't coerced her into that tournament-but sometimes he needs reminding that we're still different than he is, no matter how much time passes."

"My taking Vegeta as a mate has reminded him," Chichi replied solemnly.

The middle-aged queen smiled mischievously up at her somber niece. "I like Vegeta. He's smart, and actually strong enough for you-and all that masculinity makes me heady."

Chichi looked aghast. "He's mine," she warned firmly.

"Of course he is," Merebai assured. "Do you love him?"

Chichi thought for a long moment as Merebai opened the first aid kit and began to pull out bandages and salve. "I could," she admitted to her aunt. "I could very easily, if it weren't for Gohan." Her voice broke, and she continued in a half-wail. "They're going to make me choose between them, and I can't do that! I can't choose between my son and my mate."

Merebai slid up onto the bench beside her niece and wrapped her slim arms around the teary-eyed Princess. "Hush, hatchling. It will all work out; the Gods do nothing without reason." She rubbed the younger woman's back. "You won't have to choose between your mate and your issue; it will just take time for everyone to come around."

Chichi sighed and sniffed, emotional balance regained. "Are you sure?"

"Of course, hatchling," the Queen assured, the few lines on her face deepening with concern. "Thinking like that isn't good for someone in your condition."

Confused, Chichi stared at her Aunt. "But all I did was cut my feet-I'll be fine in a few days."

Merebai flashed her a startled glance, one eyebrow raised. "Yes you will," she began slowly. "All you need to do is stay off your feet for a day or two-you heal quickly." She sank back to the cobblestones to finish bandaging said feet. "So is Vegeta as strong as his ki says he is?"

Merebai looked up when Chichi didn't answer, only to find the Princess had gone pale, and was trembling slightly. "Chishali? Hatchling?"

Chichi made no indication she'd heard anything, but continued to stare into the thin air, eyes unfocused and muscles tensed. Merebai grasped her shoulders and shook them hard until her niece was actually looking at her. "Hatching, tell me what's wrong. Now."

The voice that came out of the girl's mouth sounded like she was speaking through a tunnel; her mind was far away while her body was still on the bench. "Gohan." Chichi whispered. "My baby's in trouble."

Before Merebai could respond, onyx eyes rolled back into her head and Chichi slid off the bench into unconsciousness. Merebai cushioned her head before it connected with the hard cobblestones and began to call for Ox.

* * * * * *

Gohan flew. He didn't care where he was going; all he knew was that it needed to be far, far away from his mother and Vegeta.

His father couldn't be dead! He just couldn't! Sure, he'd died before, but that had been different. He'd promised to come back, and he had. But he hadn't died this time! He'd just said he didn't want to come home yet.

Gohan froze.

Didn't Dad love them anymore? Was that why he hadn't come home, because he didn't love them?

Furious with himself for even thinking that, Gohan picked up speed again. Just because Dad didn't love them anymore didn't give Mom the fight to find a new mate (Gohan thought that was the right word). Mom and Dad had promised to love each other forever when they got married, hadn't they? They'd both broken that promise: Dad stayed away because he didn't love them anymore-if he still loved them he would have come home already! And Mom had given his place to Vegeta.

The boy snarled. What kind of man mated with the wife of the man who'd spared his life? Where was the honor in that?

Gohan really didn't care. All he knew was that everything in his life was suddenly wrong, and he wanted to be as far away from it as possible.

So he flew. He didn't care if people could see him, didn't care that he was hungry, and he didn't care that Piccolo was following him. He didn't want to talk to Piccolo right now anyway. All he wanted was to be left alone so he could think, and so he flew. Right into the heart of the thunderstorm brewing before him.

* * * * *

"Dad, this is getting really bad," Bulma commented to her father. "I've never flown through a storm this bad before." She had both hands wrapped around the stick of their high-speed jet as she battled the intense winds. "All we need is one lightning bolt to knock out the electrical systems and we've had it."

Doctor Briefs, as usual, was far too busy staring at various instruments to realize the sort of danger they were in. They couldn't fly above the storm, were too light to be flying through the storm, and in the middle of the worst lightning storm Bulma had seen in her lifetime. With every flash, her instruments went haywire and she couldn't see anything outside the cockpit. It was pitch black outside; without her compass she'd be lost and thrown off course.

A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, briefly illuminating the outside world and giving Bulma's already frazzled nerves another pull. "Damn it," she swore as the compass began to spin. "We're never going to make it home." She risked removing one hand from the stick to tap the cover of the compass hard. "I thought you said you shielded the compass," she snapped at her father.

"I did, dear," Dr. Briefs replied. "With an alloy of-"

Bulma cut him off. "I don't care what it is," she roared. "But it's not working!"

A huge wind gust broadsided them, and Bulma worked to keep the jet as steady as possible. When she'd gotten it under control, Doctor Briefs picked his glasses up from the floor and put them back on his nose. "My, it is getting bad, isn't it?" He observed.

"Yeah Dad," Bulma replied through gritted teeth as she guided the jet through a small opening between clouds. "It is."

They sat in silence as Bulma battled the storm, quickly dodging the ferocious lightning bolts. "Why do we have to be the only metal object flying through this storm," Bulma moaned as she narrowly missed another one.

"At least the protective coating on the hull is working," Doctor Briefs commented.

But Bulma was too busy to take notice. In the light provided by the deadly energy beams she could see another figure approaching on a direct course for them. She hoped it wasn't a plane, because the radio was out and she couldn't signal them to warn of her presence.

The object was moving too fast to be a plane. Bulma fumbled for the magnifying goggles on her helmet and gasped.

It was Gohan-flying out in the storm with eyes closed, dodging the lightning. What was the 7-year-old doing out here on his own?

Bulma realized with a sickening lurch that Gohan didn't know they were there-the storm raged over the sound of their engines. He was still heading straight for them. Even through she knew it was futile, Bulma began screaming his name. Fortunately her terror spiked her puny ki enough that Gohan took notice.

He opened his eyes just in time to face down the nose of a huge jet.

By a physics-defying miracle, he managed to stop and slide out of its way. He slid right into the path of a lightning bolt that Doctor Briefs' experimental new coating had deflected off the hull.

Bulma screamed in horror as she saw the boy disappear into the light. When it faded, he was gone-the sky next to the jet was empty.

There was only one direction he could have gone.

Without even thinking, Bulma pushed the jet into the steepest nosedive she could withstand and followed.

She had to find Gohan.

* * * * * * *

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