Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ At Odds ❯ Love's Requiem ( Chapter 11 )

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ, but for some reason I get some sort of twisted pleasure out of messing with Vegeta's mind.

Special thanks to LisaB who has agreed to be my beta, which is no small task. Hopefully, this will result in a more pleasurable reading experience for all. Thank you so much Lisa.

Chapter Eleven

Love's Requiem

He stretched out his solid frame, sliding his body against the silken flesh of the woman beneath him. He wound her long hair around his fist, inhaling her lavender scent, but not deeply enough to catch her actual female odor. He only wanted to smell the oil that he had made her rub onto her skin.

His strong teeth nipped at her pulse along her pale neck, grinning as he felt her shiver against him. Her dainty hands wrapped around his strong shoulders, skimming up his muscled back before digging into his hair at his scalp. He almost purred when he felt her tiny nails scrap along his skull, sliding his hair between her fingers. She always liked his hair.

He kissed his way down her collar bone, growling in pleasure as her breasts heaved with her every breath. His tail slid around her thigh, pulling up her knee to cradle his body. He laved her pert nipple with his tongue, ignoring the subtle taste that his senses rejected as wrong.

"Yah, lover, that feels good," the woman moaned beneath him and he felt his irritation flare. He shushed her harshly without looking up from his feast and allowed his hands to trail down her ribs to cup her hips.

Her thighs widened and he nudged his hardened flesh against her opening. His lust clamored at him, demanding that he sate himself on the willing woman pinned beneath him, urging him to give into the need for a satisfying fuck. He could feel her wet heat calling out to him, beckoning him to drive home, but the lingering sense of unease held him.

"Oh, baby, don't tease me." She writhed beneath him, and he could no longer control the anger that raged inside of him.

He reared back, wrapping his fist around her blonde hair far less gently then he had just seconds ago.

"Didn't I tell you to shut the fuck up?" Raditz snarled at the shocked woman under him, finally looking at her face. He felt disappointment, rage and loneliness howl up from his darkened soul as he glared down at the palace slut. He could have her douse herself in lavender, he could refuse to look at her countenance, but when she spoke the spell was broken. This woman would never be Delia.

The woman cowered beneath him, and for a moment Raditz thought he could use her as a different kind of substitute. Not as a way to slake his lust, but to relieve himself of his infectious anger. Perhaps killing her would make him feel better. His fist tightened and his black thoughts swirled so loudly in his head that he almost didn't hear the soft knocking at his door. He turned his head in time to see the heavy door swing open slowly, and a small voice called out.

"Master Raditz?"

Raditz's eyes widened, and he reacted on instinct. He swept the woman off the opposite end of the bed, not even flinching when she hit the ground with a thud.

"Don't move," he threatened and the woman became as still as stone, out of sight from the intruder. Raditz wrapped a pale ivory satin sheet around his waist, his bare chest contrasting darkly with the linen as his skin gleamed in the pale lamplight. His feet hit the floor on his side of the bed just as the door finished opening.

"Master Raditz?"

In the archway, backlit by the low lights in the sitting room, stood young Jarrell, still in his tiny pajamas and clutching a stuffed toy.

Raditz scowled at the sight, uncertain why the child would venture to his rooms in the middle of the night.

"What are you doing here, kid?" Although he was annoyed, he managed to keep his voice even, not wanting to scare the boy, but not really knowing why.

The young boy shifted from one foot to the other, staring steadfastly at the ground. He was obviously nervous and was probably regretting his late night decision to seek out the older man. He took a couple of more steps into the room, and Raditz raised an eyebrow at the kid's resolve. Jarrell reminded him so much of Delia at that moment that he had to violently stuff down his anger and, strangely, his affection.

"I miss mama," the child murmured into the soft fur of his stuffed doll, but Raditz's keen Saiyan hearing didn't miss a word. Recognition and shock hit Raditz with the force of a ki blast. The same loneliness that Jarrell was feeling slithered down his spine and no matter how much he fought it, he could not purge his body and heart of the emotion. He was struck with the urge to answer the boy with a simple, 'me too', but he kept his lips sealed.

The boy continued to stand there, still afraid to look him in the eye. Raditz nearly growled with impatience, unable to understand what the kid wanted from him exactly.

"So what? What are you doing here?" He spat out the question with more force than he meant to, and the child seemed to wilt under his fiery gaze.

Jarrell plucked at the fur on the doll and swirled the toes of his left foot in the thick carpet. "Mama said if I ever needed anything that I should come to you. She said that you would take care of me while she was gone."

If Raditz thought he was shocked before, then he wasn't nearly prepared for the astonishment that flooded him after the boy's innocent statements. Delia had told the child that he would take care of him? He knew that for all her quiet ways, his beautiful one was an amazing, intelligent woman. He was angry that she had left him, but he was enraged that she had gone knowing that it would mean her death. She had willingly left, knowing that in the end he would be abandoned, unable to follow her into the eternal night--the final escape from his touch.

Delia had known all of this and still she had told young Jarrell that Raditz would be the one to go to if he needed anything. That he would be the one to protect him, to care for him…to raise him? Is that what she intended? She was willing to leave the fragile existence of her son to the man who would more than likely end her life? Raditz had no doubt that if she dared to come back to the palace, he would be ordered by his Prince to kill her, and this time he could not, would not, disobey.

His silence as he examined his disjointed thoughts allowed Jarrell to sneak a few steps closer to the man from whom he sought comfort. All the other children were afraid of the fearsome warrior. In fact, they were afraid of all of the Saiyans. His nursemaid warned him away from Master Raditz, but he ignored her pleas. The only contact he really had with the warrior was when Raditz would silently take him aside to train. Jarrell didn't know why he chose to single him out from the others, but he was thrilled by the attention. Master Raditz's dark eyes would bore into him, demanding that he give all of himself to learning the art of self defense. He was a stern master, but Jarrell didn't fear him. His mother trusted him and instinct told him to run to him.

Jarrell's movements roused Raditz from his dark thoughts and he pinned the boy to the floor where he stood with unforgiving eyes. "So what is it that you need, brat?" Raditz's voice was rough with emotion and small lines of concern formed on his brow. It wouldn't do to show any sort of feelings, especially around the child.

Instead of answering, the boy shuffled forward, closing the distance between him and the towering man who sat on the bed. Raditz watched with a sort of stunned awe as the kid clambered up onto his knee to sit on his lap, completely ignoring the stiff set to the man's shoulders. Raditz twisted his neck to look down as Jarrell rested his head tiredly against his shoulder, sighing deeply with contentment.

Raditz didn't move a muscle as the boy settled himself on his lap. Frankly, he was far out of his element and had no idea what to do. His first instinct was to stand up and dump the kid on the floor--such a show of affection was unacceptable! Yet it felt…nice. For the first time in weeks, Raditz muscles began to loosen and he felt something crack in his icy heart. The boy had walked down a twisted path of shadowy corridors to his rooms in the middle of the night, just to get a hug from him. Something raw and painful clawed its way up Raditz's throat, and he had to swallow hard to push it back down again.

Instead of wrapping his muscular arms around the boy like he wanted, he opted to do the next best thing. Talk to him.

"What's this?" Raditz poked a thick, battle-callused finger at the toy the boy was holding.

The boy clutched the doll closer to his chest as if he was afraid Raditz was going to snatch it out of his grasp. "It's Mister Bonkers," Jarrell whispered into the fur of the doll that look like a Girallon, a large brainless beast that was similar to a gorilla, but with four arms and gray fur.

"It is unbecoming of a warrior to have a doll, much less carry it around with you," Raditz stated with a great deal less heat than he intended. He should tear the toy right out of the boy's hand and toss it in the nearest incinerator. No boy of his was going to be wandering around the palace halls with a dollie in his arms.

Jarrell's lip protruded into a quivering pout as he scrunched up his features. "It's not a doll; it's an action figure."

Raditz cocked a disbelieving eyebrow, and Jarrell frowned back defiantly. Finally the child conceded and looked away, but not before Raditz saw the sorrow pooling in his light eyes. "But mama gave it too me."

As his sad voice wrapped its way around his heart, Raditz decided to relent for now, but he would be sure to convince the child later to leave behind his past and look to the future. For now, it was the only way that he could see to lessen the pain that was sure to come.

"Whatever. You need to get back to you rooms." Raditz looked away, focusing on some unseen spot on the carpet.

"Aww, but Master Raditz, can't I stay with you?" the boy pleaded up at the distant man.

"No." Raditz's one word reply was sharp and crisp.

When the silence had stretched on seemingly forever, he finally turned his head to look down at the child. Jarrell was still perched on his lap, his doll now hanging limply from his fingers between his knees. His head was bent until his small chin nearly touched his chest and his shoulders were slumped in dejection.

"But I will walk you back." Raditz didn't know what possessed him to offer to do that, but the smile the boy presented him was truly worth it. He looked so much like his mother that it made Raditz's heart ache.

Instead of pushing the kid to the ground like he should have, he found himself gathering him up in his strong embrace. With one hand he secured the sheets around his waist, not even bothering to look around for some pants. Silently he acknowledged that he didn't want to put the boy down long enough to get dressed. He strode towards the door, Jarrell nestled trustingly in his arms, leaving the forgotten whore alone to find her own way out.

*~*

The two guards stood stoically outside the doors to the throne room on their Lord's flagship that were slightly ajar. They ignored the yelling and screaming taking place inside and instead focused their cool eyes forward, looking for any intruders that might disrupt their Sire.

They snapped to attention when a form appeared out of the shadows of the hall, but they instantly relaxed when they recognized the familiar red shirt of a courier. One of the guards greeted the man casually.

"What's up, Frank?"

"Not a whole lot, Sam," the newcomer replied. "Is Lord Vegeta here? I know it's the middle of the night, but I stopped by his quarters first, and he wasn't there."

"Yah, he's inside." The guard jerked his thumb over his shoulder indicating that the Emperor was indeed inside the throne room.

Frank peered past the guards to look inside the room in time to see Vegeta stalk by with an angry snarl twisting his lips.

"Shut up!"

The demand could be heard all the way into the hall and the new man stepped back, but the two guards remained motionless, quite used to such outburst from their leader.

"I have a missive for the Emperor. Is he busy?"

The two guards shrugged. "I guess it depends on how important the message is," the other guard said.

Frank winced. "That bad, huh?" Both guards nodded in agreement, their aggrieved faces expressing their mutual pain.

"Boy, has he been wound up lately. I mean, Frieza was never this bad." The words slipped out before Frank could censor them. He looked to see if he had offended the two soldiers, but they were nodding in silent agreement.

Bolstered by their reactions, Frank added, "I don't think the Aurturians even did anything wrong. Their planet just happened to be on the way."

All three men grimaced at the memory of the destruction wrought only the day before. Lord Vegeta had given the order for them to orbit the lush world and watched as waves of men razed the planet until nothing was left, the entire time ignoring the pleas of the Aurturian leaders that rang out in the background.

Although the soldiers had been steeped in blood lust and destruction while serving under Frieza's command, they had always been secure in the knowledge that the lizard did things for a reason, not because he had an itch to see innocent blood spilt on the ground. As far as the three men knew, the other soldiers felt the same way. Everyone wished that the soft voice of the blue-haired beauty was there to tame the wild beast that had become their leader.

"I don't want to hear another word out of you."

All three men jumped at the snarl that echoed from the throne room. They snapped to attention, mistakenly thinking for a moment that their Emperor had overheard their complaints.

Once they realized that Vegeta wasn't talking to them, they settled down into an uncomfortable silence, occasionally glancing nervously over their shoulders. Finally, Frank spoke again, hoping against hope that their Emperor could be saved from the madness that was overtaking him.

"Has anyone tried getting him a woman?"

The two guards exchanged identical looks of dread.

Sam was the first to reply. "Yah, Ed tried that last week."

"He brought in a real sweet piece from the Ep-ta-ian sector," the other guard chimed in.

When they didn't say more Frank swept their faces, looking for more clues. "So, what happened?"

"He fried them both on the spot."

The reply had no inflection of any kind; it was just a statement of fact. Frank felt icy fingers of dread playing with his insides.

"Zarbon uses a little bit more finesse. He hand picks beauties to wait on Lord Vegeta with the hopes of one catching his eye."

"Has one?" Frank asked hopefully.

Sam shook his head sorrowfully. "I don't think he even sees them. They are nothing more than dirt under his feet to him."

"I have had it with you! If I hear another word out of your putrid mouth I'm going to crack your skull open and paint your brains on the wall."

The enraged howl echoed out of the room and into the hall, but this time no one jumped. Instead they all turned to glance inside, seeing only their furious Emperor pacing back and forth.

Frank winced, knowing that he was going to have to enter the room soon and interrupt his Lord in order to deliver his message. "So who's in there with him?" His sympathy for the poor schmuck stuck in there showed on his face.

He was still peering past the guard's shoulders, trying to get a glimpse of his lord's victim, when he realized that his query was met with deafening silence. He stepped back to look at their faces, noticing that they had taken on oddly tight expressions. He waited expectantly for their reply, dread making him unwilling to ask again.

Finally Sam broke and he whispered, "No one."

Frank pulled back sharply, inhaling deeply through his nose, fear twisting in the pit of his stomach like snakes.

"W-what?" he asked, certain that he must have misheard, but that didn't stop the blood from rushing from his face, leaving him ghost white.

"No one is in there with him," Sam repeated with conviction and Frank had no doubt that he was telling the truth.

"I hate you. I hate you all."

The guttural scream shook the room and Frank peered inside with new understanding. He clutched the missive in his hand and wiped his sweat-beaded brow with his forearm. Silently, he weighed his options. He could slip away and wait for a more appropriate time to present the missive to his master or he could do it now. He had the unsettling feeling that there would never be a good time when it came to the Emperor. Running away would do him no good. There was nothing worse than being branded a cowered by your fellow soldiers. It was do or die and nothing in between.

Both guards looked at him, pity for him showing deeply on their engraved faces.

"It's my duty, right?" Frank asked and the guards nodded back with sad understanding.

Frank shook both their hands, muttering a few words of goodbye that the guards reciprocated. Bravely he squared his shoulders and stepped forward to push open the already cracked doors.

"Lord Vegeta," he intoned as he bowed deeply before his master.

"What do you want, worm?" Vegeta hissed.

"Tsk, tsk. Is that anyway to talk to your underling?"

Vegeta glanced back over his shoulder to glare at the mounted head of Frieza that was leering at him from above his throne. Gathering together his control, (something that was sadly lacking these last few weeks,) he ignored the lizard and concentrated on the soldier instead.

"I have a missive for you," Frank choked out. His eyes darted to and fro under the shadow of his brow, desperately looking for someone else in the room. He didn't want to believe that his Lord and Master was completely insane.

Vegeta sighed impatiently, the palm of his hand itching with the need to blast the grunt into the next dimension. "Well, who is it from, you idiot?" he growled venomously.

"King Cold, Sire."

A deep, manly laugh rose up from behind Vegeta and the Emperor felt his shoulders tense.

"Looks like daddy wants to meet the man who murdered his baby boy."

Vegeta whipped around, snarling with deadly promise at the blonde haired man who lounged disrespectfully on his throne, one leg thrown over the armrest while he indulged in some fruit from a nearby bowl. Vegeta had hated him when he had headed up the Freine Resistance Core. The man who had captured and tortured him. The man who had ordered Bulma's death.

"Oh come now, Rio'Kan. It's not like that. Papa just wants to meet the heir to my throne. The newest, deadliest tyrant in the universe," Frieza chortled down at the man who sat beneath him.

"I thought I told you both to shut up!" Vegeta screeched, his eyes rimmed with red.

Frank shook as his lord whipped around and stalked up to him to snatch the letter from his limp hand. He glanced longingly back at the door, wishing that he could leave without being dismissed. He watched with dread as the volatile Emperor ripped open the missive and scanned the contents.

"So what does papa have to say, my boy?" Frieza asked slyly, his ruby eyes gleaming with sadistic relish.

For a moment Vegeta felt the light of goodness ignite within him. In his hand he had a chance. A chance to piece back together his broken family, but the thought was quickly swept away as the hatred rose back up inside of him. "I'm not 'your boy' anymore, and it's none of your business, lizard," Vegeta snapped as he crumpled the parchment in his fist.

"Oh come now, Vegeta, don't be such a spoil sport," Rio'Kan enticed, laughter teasing his lips into a delighted grin.

Vegeta glared at the lanky man, but his reply was swallowed when he heard a slight cough behind him. He turned to sneer at the lackey that still stood in the center of the room.

"What?" he growled.

"I was just wondering if you had a reply that needed delivering." Frank fought not to break down and pee his pants in front of the crazed man. He wanted desperately to escape the room and its oppressive atmosphere of lunacy.

"No," was Vegeta's disinterested reply, followed by Frank's choked protests.

A bright light flared out into the hall and the two guards remained motionless, the minutes passing before Sam chose to comment.

"Frank was a good guy."

"Yah," was his companion's reply.

"I'm going to miss him."

A/N: I know that I used normal earth names for the guards in this scene. I could have plunked myself down and wracked my brain for some wacky alien name, but I'm not sure that would have gotten the point across that I wanted to make.

I wanted to emphasis that these were just some everyday schmoes that were gathered around the water cooler discussing their asshole boss. Their worries are just a little deeper than having to file that pesky report by Friday.

Besides I have always felt bad for the poor underling that had to go and deliver the bad news to his evil boss.