Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Crimson Rain ❯ Into the Fire ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z, all of its characters, places, and other descriptive elements are property of Akira Toryama, Bird Studios, FUNimation, etc, etc. All other characters, places and events are my own. I make no money off of this writing.

 

Chapter Two

Into the Fire

Close your eyes and bow your head
I need a little sympathy
Cause fear is strong and love's for everyone
Who isn't me
So kill your health and kill yourself
And kill everything you love
And if you live you can fall to pieces

Chris Cornell in Soundgarden “Burden In My Hand”

 

Trunks had been studying the picture of their target, which was common practice. One might say that he had been studying it too long, but Scar himself had taken a longer look than necessary. When they landed on Faeyr, they were greeted by two of the king's personal guard and escorted straight to his study. They had expected a throne room, but this king was decidedly less formal than Trunks' own father.

The king looked tired, although his daughter's resemblance was apparent. They both had the same dark hair and pale skin. Her mother wasn't present, but it could be seen that she probably had her mother's eyes, because the king's own were small and dark.

“I welcome you to Faeyr,” the king said, his voice holding none of the exhaustion that he certainly must have felt.

“Thank you, your majesty,” Scar said diplomatically.

“My daughter is… precious to me. More so than most anything in this galaxy. I want her brought back to me.”

“Any idea who might have taken her?” Trunks asked.

“I know exactly who took her. Shortly before the two of you arrived, a Seelie messenger brought this.”

The king activated a hologram that showed the princess in a small room, alive and looking rather well treated for a purported prisoner. A spoken message began playing.

“Greetings, King Gawain,” the message said, “your daughter is in our care. I can assure you that no harm will come to her as long as you agree to our terms. Please consider what my offer would do for both of our peoples before you return your answer.”

The hologram flashed off.

Scar looked at Trunks, “This gets more and more political.”

“I'll not lie,” the king said, “it is political and I know that the two of you shy away from such things, but I've researched your record. The two of you are perhaps the best in your particular field.”

“We shy away from such things because we do not wish to be at the center of a political confrontation,” Scar explained.

“What are his terms?” Trunks interjected, hoping that they might be something that the king could agree to.

“He wants… an alliance through marriage. He wants me to allow my daughter to marry his son.”

“Then let her,” Scar said, “seems an easy decision to make.”

“It is not so easy,” the king said, “when I myself married not for love, but for political reasons. I promised myself that my daughter would not be used as such a pawn. I love her mother dearly and yet I cannot be with her in truth as I wish to be. All there is between us are stolen moments and Kyara.”

Trunks understood the king's point, having been there himself. Still, if Scar didn't buy into it, they would be back on their way to Andromeda Station empty handed. He doubted the king would pay for the expense of travelling to Faeyr.

“And what do you expect us to do?” Trunks asked, “How well is she guarded?”

The king shook his head, “I am not sure. Knowing King Bleddyn, better guarded than she was here. She had her own guards, but didn't like them following her around and would often intentionally `lose' them, so to speak.”

Scar looked at Trunks, one eyebrow raised, “Surely you aren't considering this? We never, and I mean never, get involved in politics.”

“Scar,” Trunks reasoned, “It's a high price for the king to pay. One point five million credits. I propose that we visit this… Faer, and we simply investigate King Bleddyn's intentions.”

“For what?” Scar asked.

“Well, if we get there and find that the princess is in good shape and willing to go through with this… marriage, then we leave. No harm, no foul. King Gawain will just have to accept it.”

“And if she's unwilling? Are we going to bring her back here and be the cause of interplanetary war?”

Trunks shrugged, “We'll decide that when we get there.”

Scar sighed, “It's against my better judgment, but we'll go and take a look. I'm not promising anything, your majesty.”

“It seems that this is all I can ask of you, as it is all you're willing to do,” the king sighed, “however, upon your return, I will pay you one hundred thousand credits for your trouble if you decide my daughter has done this of her own free will.”

“I'll accept those terms,” Scar said and turned and exited the study.

In the hallway, he looked at Trunks critically, “I hope that you know what you're doing. This is the most asinine chase I've ever been on. It violates every rule in the book.”

“In your rule book, maybe. Scar, you forget that I am a prince. Had I not left, I might have been forced into a marriage. I can't stand by and let it happen to someone else.”

“You're young yet,” Scar said, “someday you'll see that things like this aren't your concern.”

“Maybe,” Trunks said, “but I doubt it. I doubt I'll ever approve of forced marriage.”

*************

Except for Tegan brining in her meals and a bowl of water and soap with which to wash herself and a change of clothes, they had left Kyara alone for a what seemed like days, although it was impossible to tell how much time had actually passed in a room with no doors and no windows.

She'd never even seen the Seelie prince; much less thought of marrying him. It was incredulous to think such a thing. She might have worn a trench across her room, had such a thing been possible. She paced, restlessly, yearning to be outside; anywhere other than in this room.

When the door opened, Kyara expected Tegan to be standing there, but instead it was Brom and she instinctually backed across the room, putting as much distance between her and the guard as possible. With the same lecherous look in his eyes, he looked her up and down. Now clothed in a long skirt and a tunic, she was covered more than she had been, but his eyes said that he wasn't looking at what she wore. He was remembering what she looked like under all those clothes.

He stepped inside the room and closed the door. Kyara knew that whatever he was thinking, she was in no position to fight him. With little more than six feet between them, he could cross that distance before she could even come up with a way out.

“What do you want, Brom?” she asked, trying to keep her voice friendly.

He just smiled wickedly and licked his lips, staring at her with those eyes. She looked down, trying to flatten herself against the wall. He let out a short chuckle, amused at her attempt to try and disappear. It had been so long since he'd had the opportunity to be with a woman; he was well known for his taste for rough sex, and few women delighted in sex that involved any kind of pain. Seelie women, especially were prudish about sex, but he'd heard stories about Unseelie women. Perhaps he had been born among the wrong people.

“Brom,” she reasoned, “I am sure the king would be displeased to find you in here. I am, after all, meant for his son.”

“You're not promised to anyone yet,” Brom countered as he crossed the room. She moved to run past him, but he caught her and shoved her back against the wall, “and who will the king believe? A member of his guard or a filthy Unseelie slut?”

Pinning her to the wall with his body, one hand pinned her arms above her head while the other began to lift her skirt. She tried to push him away, but he slammed her back into the wall. Even though it was just a few short centimeters she'd managed to bring between herself and the wall, the impact jarred her. He'd succeeded in lifting her skirt to her hips and his hand forced her legs apart as he shoved a finger inside of her.

“Oh my,” he grinned evilly, “we are tight. Don't tell me that I'll be your first.”

“Hardly,” she spat, “that's one pleasure you won't get from me.”

He moved his hand from between her legs and seized her chin in a bruising grip, “Listen, princess, this can go two ways for you. You can just… let this happen, or you can fight. I'm rough as it is, but I can promise you, fighting only increases my appetite.”

He kissed her and she bit down hard on his lip. He responded with a mean back hard that bloodied her nose and split her lip. He licked the blood with his tongue, “Mmmm,” he vocalized, licking his lips, “you taste delicious.”

His hand squeezed one breast and then the other, feeling her nipples respond in a way that betrayed her displeasure. Still holding her wrists, he lowered himself and bit them, causing her to cry out. Not loud enough to be heard; he'd gag her if it came to that, but he had intended this to be quick. With one hand, he undid the buckles at the front of his pants and she felt his hard length pressing against her stomach. He turned her around, wrenching both arms behind her back, holding them in one of his hands while the other lifted her skirt over her hips.

Bending his knees so that he was at the right height, he positioned himself behind her and slammed into her with one thrust. She hadn't been ready and it had hurt. She screamed and he pulled her hair, growling into her cheek, “Do that again and it'll just be worse for you.”

He pulled himself out and surged back in, her front pounding against the wall with the force of his thrusts, which only got deeper and harder as his excitement grew. He pulled her away from the wall and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down again with his weight, forcing her legs apart with his knee. He lifted her hips and brutally entered her again, tearing into her with such force that tears escaped the corners of her eyes, despite her willing herself not to show any pain or fear. He pushed up the tunic, exposing her large, well rounded breasts. Still thrusting, he lowered his head, raking his tongue across the nipple, the biting hard enough to leave red marks and draw tiny droplets of blood. He did the same to the other side, become more aroused at the sight of the blood and his marks.

Gripping her hips, he began pulling himself out of her and slamming back in, his pace rough and quick, until she felt one last, brutal thrust that seemed to split her in two, and felt him tense above her. Once he'd spilled his seed inside her, he stood, buckling his pants.

He said nothing, just turned and left her on the bed. She straightened her top and her skirt. His brutal attack had left her bleeding, the evidence of his brutality on the bed sheets. She stood, took a few steps, and slid down the wall into the corner. Bringing her knees into her chest, she buried her head in her arms and began to sob.

*************

The king of Faer, Bleddyn the Mighty, did greet them in the throne room. He'd obviously been expecting this to humble them, or at least, deter them from any further investigation. He was unaware of who Trunks was, and that he'd been in more magnificent palaces, excluding his own home. Scar was also unimpressed, giving it a casual glance, and then leveling his gaze at the king.

“We're here about king Gawain's daughter,” Scar began, “and we're told that it is your majesty that holds her.”

“I do. She is to be my son's bride. Providing King Gawain agrees. I assume you've come to give his blessings?”

“Not exactly,” Scar said, “he sent us with no such message.”

For a moment, the king looked confused. Scar might have missed it, but Trunks was well schooled in court politics and knew the fleeting emotion betrayed more than the king wanted.

“I am afraid that I am confused,” the king said.

“Our apologies, majesty,” Trunks finally spoke, “we were sent by the king to determine if this is his daughter's wish. If it is, he swears by solemn oath that he will not interfere. However, should this not be her desire, he asks that you allow us to take her home.”

“You speak as though you are used to being among royals in a court,” the king complemented.

Trunks shrugged, “I've been around. I haven't always been a bounty hunter.”

It was all he was willing to give, and the king must have sensed this because he did not question him further about it.

“However, I cannot allow you to see the princess. I'm afraid that you made this journey for nothing.”

“Why can't we see her?” Trunks asked, “it seems a simple enough request. We just want to make sure that she is here willingly. Unless she isn't, of course.”

“Simple though the request may be, at this time I am unable to grant it.”

Trunks chuckled, “Then she is not here of her own will. It's the only thing we can assume.”

“I can assure you,” the king said, his voice tight, “the princess is just fine. That is all that should concern you.”

“Let us see her, then,” Scar reasoned, “what harm could it do? We'll just make sure that she's fine and be on our way. We'll leave it to her king to bring her home. I, for one, just want to see that she is unharmed.”

The king considered this for a moment, then nodded to one of the guard, “Go have Tegan fetch the princess.”

The guard bowed and left the throne room, finding Tegan placing folded linen in one of the closets.

“The king bids you bring the princess to the throne room.”

“Of course. Please inform the king I will have her there momentarily.”

She hurried down the hall, for to keep the king waiting was to invite punishment. She placed the key in the lock and had to look to find the princess huddled in the corner, blood on the sheets and her clothes. The blood on her face had dried.

“Great Goddess,” Tegan cursed, “what in Hades name happened here?”

“Brom,” was all she said and Tegan understood. She wasn't the first Brom had raped, and perhaps this might be good enough cause for the king to finally punish him.

Tegan left to get a bowl of hot water and a towel, bringing it back into the room, along with a fresh skirt and top. She quickly cleaned the blood from Kyara's face and helped her to change her clothes.

“The king wishes to see you. He has visitors inquiring about you, so I cannot allow you to be seen like this.”

“So Brom will get away with this?”

Tegan frowned, “I will tell his majesty what happened, but I cannot speak for his actions once he's informed. Come now. We mustn't keep the king waiting.”

Kyara pulled herself together and tried to walk as normally as possibly, but she still ached from Brom's assault. This caused her to walk slightly bowlegged, despite Tegan's pleas for her to try and stop. She was led into the throne room.

“Majesty,” the guard announced, “Tegan has brought the princess.”

Despite outer appearances, Trunks knew something was wrong the moment she entered the throne room. Something in the way she walked, like she was trying not to aggravate something that was tender.

“Princess,” the king said, his voice coated in sugar, “these two gentlemen are here to see that you are unharmed.”

“I am fine,” she lied, her voice tight, as her gaze took in the older man and his younger partner, but her voice was tight.

“Are you certain, princess?” Scar asked, obviously picking up on the same vibe Trunks had felt.

She nodded, “Other than being confined to a small room, no harm has been done.”

For a moment, her eyes met the lavender haired one's gaze, and she hoped that he would see in hers that things were far from fine. She broke the gaze and returned to the king, not at him, but past him.

“If the princess is unhappy with her accommodations, I shall find something more suitable,” the king flashed a too-white smile filled with too-perfect teeth.

“Wait,” Trunks said, “I'm not convinced. You're hiding something. I can sense a lie like a snake senses its prey. What are you hiding?”

Scar groaned audibly. They should have just left the first time she had said she was fine. Now that Trunks had made the decision to persist with the questions, they would have to lie in the bed he had made. He touched the grips of his weapons for reassurance, while still remaining relatively still.

“Hiding? Why would I be hiding something?” she asked as innocently as possible when all she wanted to do was scream about what Brom had done to her.

Trunks eyes narrowed, “You're lying,” he said, his voice filled with conviction, “and if that's the way you want it, then we'll leave. We'll tell your father that you're here willingly.”

That did it.

“You were sent by my father?” she asked and they both nodded, “To see if I was here on my own?”

“Yes. It seems your father believes you were kidnapped. We'll be going and tell him that he is mistaken.”

Kyara's eyes shifted wildly. How could she tell them without tipping the king off? Finally, she decided to risk it. “Get me out of here,” she hissed at the prince, “I am far from okay.”

He gave a small nod and moved in front of her. Scar drew his guns, keeping both trained on the king. Trunks had drawn the one at his back, keeping it trained on the guards at the door. The king looked stunned, but Trunks and Scar were already moving toward the door. Scar moved one of his guns to cover the door, keeping the other on the king.

“Out of the way,” Trunks said, “or I'll blow you through the doors to open them.”

Both of the guards looked at the king, and Trunks fired off a shot that hit the door right next to the guard on the right's ear. He moved off the door, touching his ear with his fingers and brought them back slick with blood.

“Next time, I won't miss,” Trunks warned, keeping his body between the guards and the princess. They stepped away from the doors and Scar opened them, allowing Trunks and Kyara through them, covering them from behind as he backed out the door.

Once in the hallway, Trunks grabbed her hand, “Run.” he said, pulling her down the hall as fast as she could go. Scar was a few paces behind them, and it wasn't long before they could hear the clamor of not just two, but of dozens of guards giving chase.

They made it out of the palace and ran towards the cruiser, Scar emptying both his weapons at the guards chasing them. Several fell, trampled by those that followed, and Trunks turned, drawing his other gun and began firing. Scar dropped both the clips and reloaded, but they were catching up to them.

Kyara turned and Trunks thought for a moment that she had stumbled. Something slammed into the line of guards chasing them, an invisible concussion that lifted them and threw them back. Panting, Kyara turned to start running again, but being in a room that had bound her powers had weakened them. The small amount of energy of what she had just done should have been easy, but it drained her and she stumbled.

“Damn it,” Trunks cursed, lifting her into his arms and taking off into the air. He disliked such displays of his abilities, but it seemed that this was the only way. Scar ran below them, having stopped firing at the guards as they grew closer to the waiting cruiser. Armed only with blades, once they got into the metal ship, there wasn't much damage they could do.

Something orange roared past them and Trunks thought for a moment that it was a ball of fire.

“Faster,” Kyara pleaded, “they're using their magic now. I don't know what abilities they have, but I don't want to chance they have some that I am familiar with.”

Trunks nodded and shifted her so that he supported her with one arm and reached out the other to grab Scar's shirt, lifting him and speeding up. He landed outside the gangplank to the cruiser and kept his guns trained on the few remaining guards still in the chase.

“Get in,” Scar said to Kyara, all but shoving her up the raised walkway, Trunks backing up it in front of them.

Scar sat her down in one of the passenger seats while he went through the startup routine and Trunks set the coordinates for Faeyr. As the ship roared to life, Scar gave Trunks a look that told him was in for another long lecture when this was over. As they lifted off, he glanced back at Kyara.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I am now,” she answered, “and I'll be better when I get home.”

Trunks gave a small nod and turned his attention back to the instrument panel as he helped Scar guide them off the planet.