Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Dominion ❯ Chapter 14

Dominion

Author: Xero Sky

Date: July - November 2002

Pairings: Vejiita X Bardock, Vejiita X Kakkarot, Bardock + Turles.

Warnings: Lemon, lime, language, violence, and ANGST. AU, therefore some OOC is probably inevitable. References to consensual incest between adult siblings. References to rape.

Notes:

*....* indicates italics. /..../ indicates telepathic speech

Thanks to Legendary Chibi Vegeta for beta-reading and generally being a bad influence.

Disclaimer: All characters are property of their respective copyright owners. I intend no profit from this work of fiction.

Chapter 14

Radditz was close. He couldn't see his father through the heavy cloud cover, but he knew Bardock was there. Even if his scouter hadn't been in working order, all of his saiyajin senses would have told him that his father was near. The bond between a father and a son carried the faint flux of emotions and the immutable facts of recognition. He bared his teeth, grimacing or smiling or both. The feeling rolling over him from his father was one of joy and apprehension, mixed strongly with anger.

The brawny saiyajin shook his mane out behind him and descended beneath the clouds, knowing that his father was close enough to follow him now. He found a rocky beach beneath him, and he landed on it, far enough away from the sea to keep the spray from lashing him. Time to prepare himself for what he had to do next. He breathed in cold air and sea winds, and centered himself, clearing his mind of anything but the task at hand.

He would have to keep Bardock away from Vejiita. One way or the other.

It wasn't long before he saw the familiar shape of his father descend on him.

As Bardock's boots skidded on the gravelly shore, he nearly crashed into Radditz, taking him into a rough embrace instead.

"Idiot boy!" he growled, and then spoiled the effect entirely by grinning hugely at him. He responded to his son's answering smile by hugging him again, burying his face in his eldest son's hair.

Something struck him, an odd scent trapped in the waves of his son's mane. A pang of fear or excitement, something like both, struck through his core.

He pulled back and looked his son hard in the eye, his joy at seeing him safe subdued now. "Where have you been?" he asked more quietly. Part of his brain was still processing that scent.

Radditz' senses could pick his father's anger, distress, and confusion out of the air. An agile liar, Radditz was sarcastic, arrogant, and devious. He had earned his rank in a lifetime of fighting inside the army and against the enemy. He had killed for pleasure and for sport, as well as for necessity.

Yet, faced with his father's distress, he couldn't lie to him.

"Turles had me."

There were few things he could have said or done that would have had more impact on his father. Simple fact. He knew as much. He remembered his uncle, and remembered his father's deep, almost silent mourning for him. There had been no way he could've have hidden it from his son. For Radditz, though, there had been the joy of Kakkarot's return, the amazement of a baby brother for him to look after and play with and love, and he had been able to look away from his father's pain. Every moment of it, however, was suddenly there in Bardock's face, suddenly there in every one of Radditz' senses. Even his father's ki rippled and spiked in agony.

Bardock believed him. Bardock knew. The scent in Radditz' mane had been Turles.

For a moment, he thought he was going to die. He felt it in front of him. He'd been on the verge of death before, and felt the same gulf yawning before him, the absence of everything familiar.

He reached out slowly and took a handful of his son's thick hair in his hands, bringing it up to his face to breathe deeply of the faint scent. Turles…

He wondered, idly, how long it had been since he'd trained himself not to do what he needed to do now. To reach out and search for what was not there, for what hadn't been there for so long. His eyes slid shut as he prepared to trace out the long-vanished bond to Turles.

"Don't, Otousan," Radditz said suddenly. "He suppresses his ki like no one I've ever seen."

"He hides from me?" Bardock asked, his eyes opening slowly, his voice astonishingly calm. For the first time, he picked up the faint blood scent from Radditz and the odd musky scent of a regenerating tail. He reached around to pull forward the shortened length, less careful than numb. "Why did he do this to my son?"

"He's a prick, but he meant no real harm. His plans changed. He wants Vejiita-sa…" Radditz started before firmly cutting off the habitual term of honor. "He means to kill him, for his own reasons."

There was no point in lying. And Radditz, frankly, wasn't in the habit of lying to his father.

"His own reasons. And you're here to help him, aren't you?" Bardock said, his gaze sharpening and the temperature of his voice dropping sharply. "Help him kill Vejiita no Ou, the Legendary. Stupid bastard."

"Which one of us, Otousan?" Radditz growled, his ki spiking. "The one who was abandoned, or the one who wants vengeance for Kakkarot?"

"Neither one of you know what you're talking about!" Bardock snapped. "You can't do this! How can you even try?"

"I can because I have to. I believe Turles can do it, somehow. The question is, why aren't you?!? How could you let that happen to Kakkarot again?" Radditz snarled, his shortened tail snapping from side to side. Bitterness he'd thought long exorcised rose to fire his blood.

Bardock's lip curled with something like contempt. "Aren't you forgetting, Radditz? I'm not supposed to know about that! But I did, I've always known, and do you think I would have let him near Vejiita if I'd known he was in rut?!!"

Radditz stared at him, wondering why he was surprised. They had been so careful to keep the news from 'tousan, so that Kakkarot didn't have to feel like a weakling, like a victim, in front of their awesome father. They were a unit, partners and brothers, and they didn't need 'tousan's intervention. But of course he had known. Mighty Bardock, right hand of Vejiita no Ou, always knew everything.

Radditz drew in a harsh breath, then bit down hard on the resentment he felt towards his father. He had left them out there to settle it on their own, to deal with their own healing and revenge. That was true. It had also been a gesture of respect for their strength and their abilities. The matter had been dealt with. Revenge had been taken. Bardock hadn't been needed. Had he?

Without any warning, Bardock snatched the scouter off his son's head.

"You can't find Turles with that, or Vejiita!" Radditz cried, anger rising again as his ear bled in the scouter's wake. "And I won't let you interfere! Vejiita deserves everything he gets!"

Power flared around the two of them as they lifted up off the ground, instantly crouching into fighting positions. Despite the singing in his blood, Radditz regretted not having read his sire's ki level when he had the scouter; Bardock certainly surpassed him in sheer power now, from the feel of it. Radditz had been in the front lines for a long time, though, and it was likely his skills and instincts were sharper than Bardock's. His father had led troops for years now, dulling his personal fighting abilities. Or so Radditz hoped.

Seizing the initiative, he charged at his father. All he needed to do was delay him, just for a while. All he had to do was give Turles time, and it would be done.

To his shock, his father was ready, and more than prepared. The elder deflected his son's strike and, with lightning quick movements, grabbed him by the throat and threw him to the ground. The rock cracked at his impact point and the brawny saiyajin skidded several feet before flying off the cliff edge and disappearing into the rough waves below. Bardock folded his arms and waited. He wasn't kept that way for long.

The sea boiled and exploded as Radditz burst upwards into the sky and immediately barreled into his father, sending the two of them crashing downwards. Bardock caught him but they were sent slamming into the dark water. Another surge of power found them airborne again, fighting furiously. If either held back, it wasn't apparent.

Other things, however, became abundantly clear as the fight progressed.

Radditz was outmatched. Blood already flowed from a wound in his scalp, sending a stream of scarlet-black down his arrogant features to limn one eye and trace his jaw.

They both understood now who would win this fight. It was also clear that Radditz wasn't going to quit until Bardock beat him into the ground. Baring his teeth, the younger saiyajin doubled the ferocity of his attack once more, ready to keep it up as long as necessary.

He would fight for Kakkarot now, as he hadn't been able to before. He would make this all right, somehow. He had a saiyajin's faith in violence as panacea. Screaming, he began to power his ki up as high as it could go.

Bardock knew what his son was doing, and why, but he couldn't honor the brat's decision properly. Fear had seeped through his numbness and his rage, and he didn't need foresight to tell him that disaster was approaching. Nor that the young man preparing to fight him now with everything he had might soon be all that Bardock had left.

The cycle of saiyajin combat was deeply ingrained in them both. Between worthy opponents, the quality of the fight was the thing. The ritual of waiting for an opponent to marshal their power before resuming the fight came from respect for their prowess and a desire to beat them at their absolute best. It wasn't an honor usually granted to aliens, but it was strictly observed among saiyajins outside of war.

This time, Bardock couldn't wait. Despite the insult to his first-born, he slammed into Radditz before he was ready, driving into him as hard as he could with both fists. Radditz went sailing, blood spraying from his mouth as he crashed into the distant cliff side, sending rock and sand flying. Before he could gather himself, Bardock was at Radditz' side, cradling his dazed son in his arms.

"Radditz, I mean you no dishonor, but we don't have the fucking time for this now," he said with tender urgency. "We have to stop them."

"I won't help you stop Vejiita's punishment," Radditz said hoarsely, blood flowing freely as he coughed. "Whatever Turles can do to him, he deserves. I hope he kills the fucker."

Bardock's jaw set, and it was possible to see in his eyes the warrior who had slain worlds for his king. His voice, though, was strangely soft as he brushed the hair from his son's brow, tracing up the line of blood on his face to apply pressure to his scalp wound. "Send the king to hell and your brother goes with him, Radditz. Kakkarot and Vejiita are bound."

Radditz' face went lax in shock. He blinked rapidly at Bardock, and then was caught in a coughing fit that doubled him over, blood spraying. "Th-that can't be!"

"It is. They were mated during rut, though neither knew it," Bardock said harshly, helping his son sit up.

"But…You, you fucked Vejiita after the rut, Otousan! What of that?" There was a tinge of desperation in Radditz' voice. If this was true…

"No one knew they were bound! Can you really believe I would have touched my son's mate, or that he would have let me?" Bardock's eyes narrowed suddenly. "How do you know about that? How do you know anything of what happened?"

"Turles," Radditz said almost triumphantly. "He saw it, through his brother-bond with you. He showed me everything!"

Bardock reared back, stunned. "We have no bond…"

Then he seemed to crumple in on himself as his anguish began to tear free from his control. "He's dead!" he started calmly enough, but his voice began to shake as he realized that wasn't true. "He was dead! Oh, gods… How could he have cut himself off from me?"

Radditz couldn't help himself: he gathered his father close to him and held him tight. "He cut only your link to him, Otousan. He didn't want you to see." Both of them knew full well the fates of off-world saiyajins after Furiza's death. "He didn't want you to suffer with him."

"It was my place!" Bardock snarled into his son's shoulder. "I never would have stopped looking for him if I'd thought he was alive!"

"He knew that," Radditz said slowly, running his mind back over Turles' memories. "You couldn't have found him then, much less rescued him. You would have thrown your life away, and he wouldn't allow it."

There was a silence between them, ragged breathing filling the gap.

"He got himself free, and he spent the whole time it took him to get back home freeing other slaves. Vejiita abandoned them all, Otousan. He wants payment, a reckoning for all those deaths."

"I never abandoned him," Bardock said almost plaintively as he calmed himself.

"He knows that, Otousan. It's Vejiita he wants…" Radditz said, thinking to soothe his father.

"And he doesn't care that Kakkarot will die if his bond-mate dies?! Or that I might have to put my own son down if he goes insane instead?" A harsh, razored edge had re-entered Bardock's voice, and he sat back, separating himself from his son and the scent of his brother.

Radditz shook his head, trying to clear it of the clutching fear Bardock's words brought him. "He doesn't know, Otousan! I'm sure he doesn't know. The last thing he showed me was you and Vejiita together…"

The look on Radditz' face said volumes about his mixed feelings on that subject.

Bardock laughed suddenly, a harsh sound. "That was the last good thing that's happened to me, boy. A few hours later your brother got himself beaten nearly to death for the power increase, but when he came out of the tank, he fled his mate rather than face him. Now he's on his way to kill him and get his freedom in the next world. Fickle bastard!"

Stricken, Radditz only gaped at his father.

Bardock jerked his son to his feet with one hand. A rough energy filled him in the face of catastrophe. "Come with me! If not for Vejiita, then for Kakkarot. If Turles doesn't know, he has to be told, and Kakkarot must be stopped. There's disaster ahead of us if we don't find Vejiita first."

After a long, considering look at the man who'd fathered his brother and himself, Radditz nodded. His father... Never had he seen more certainty in another man's eyes, not even those convinced of the death he was bringing them. With a curt nod, Radditz agreed, and then followed his father as the other leapt skyward.

Above them, the streaks of light that were said to be the souls of the lost continued serenely on their way, innumerable.

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

Vejiita laughed.

It felt impossibly good to be aloft and out of the palace at last. The late night air stole the heat of his fretful anger away and calmed his spirit. Vejiita stood in the air above the mountains, just above the cloud tops. The moonlight made his skin tingle as it glided over and past him to turn the clouds from pedestrian wisps of almost-water to a vision of unutterable beauty.

The moonlight wasn't strong enough to make him change, though. Like many elites, he could generate a false moon of enough strength to force oozaru, if he wished it. It was an innovation often used in combat to shift saiyajin troops on planets with uncooperative moons. Here and now, it would probably provoke some disaster below him, so he refrained. Not that he would have cared after becoming oozaru, though.

Oozaru cared about fighting and sex and mates and family and the deliciousness of destruction. Disaster would only have spurred him into finding something more to destroy, and someone to fuck. And now was scarcely the time for that.

Kakkarot.

He could taste him in the night air. Kakkarot was coming to him. Full of fury and hatred, it was true, but he would subdue his mate with his body, with gentle kisses and his own taste. It was his right. Once joined, Kakkarot wouldn't deny him, surely. He couldn't. They were mated, bound by all that was blessed and damned in saiyajin biology and tradition. He would make him see that. He would make him understand. Then he would truly claim his mate.

Even knowing that it would only infuriate his lover further if he sensed them, Vejiita could not keep the images of what pleasures he had in store for Kakkarot out of his mind.

Kakkarot's mood had been in the back of his mind all afternoon and evening. Vejiita was the dominant mate, and thus the bond formed most strongly on his side first. When the bonding was completely finished, dominance wouldn't matter as much. Until then, now that they were both aware of the bond, he should be able to subdue Kakkarot with his touch, his scent, and the feel of his ki, no matter how angry the younger man was with him.

It was better for both of them that Kakkarot didn't realize that yet. If he had, he wouldn't have flung himself into the sky to hunt Vejiita down, now would he? Vejiita could hardly imagine the fury it would kindle in him when he realized it. His mate was fierce and fearsome, worthy of his title. Worthy of being his mate.

On second thought, though, maybe he wouldn't be so angry, or at least not for long. He knew a great deal more about Kakkarot now, his new insight and access to the records on his new mate combining to give him a thorough picture of Kakkarot's life. He was a smart, ruthless warrior, but his overwhelming trait was the zeal, the wholeheartedness with which he threw himself at every obstacle, every opponent. He did nothing by half-measures.

As much as he hated Vejiita now - and Vejiita could feel the bitter reality of that hatred, tainting his every perception - he would bond with him that much more strongly when he accepted their mating. Spite and fury would transmute to love and passion. Vejiita was certain of it. He carefully unshielded his ki, raising it only enough so that Kakkarot could find him easily without anyone else keying into him. Kakkarot might not need that beacon, but it was a gesture of affection to provide it.

There were few saiyajins outside his own Guard who could identify his ki at any level without a scouter. It required a skill and strength most saiyajins lacked to read ki like that. As for scouters, they weren't built to identify individuals outside a certain range of ki: any scouter that picked him up now at this constant low level would identify him as unknown. His Guard would translate the steady low level as a desire for privacy. With any luck, the two of them would be left in peace.

Confident to the point of arrogance, he turned in the cold air to the direction he knew his mate was approaching from. Soon, very soon, all of that magnificence would be his. He would soothe every hurt, turn his lover from despair to desire, and finish their bond. He did not regret this mating; indeed, he was hard-pressed to think of anyone better for him than one who needed him, who would embrace him whole-heartedly. There were none superior to Kakkarot. Such fineness of form, such a raging spirit…

He smirked, thinking of what was coming. There would be a ceremony, with his lover clad in the finest his empire could offer their king and his mate. He would enjoy seeing Vegita smirk at him knowingly in the morning, her face full of more wisdom than years. The brats would find their new bond-father intriguing and immediately begin devising plans for his destruction; with Vejiita's spawn that was a mark of affection. Then, with Kakkarot at his side, an unshakable, ever-trustworthy partner, he would turn his attention to the future, to Kula and the vision of a saiyajin empire untroubled by the existence of icejins anywhere.

Furiza's ghost had haunted him far too long; it was time to lay that old demon to rest. Kakkarot would cure him.

His thoughts running deeply inside, all his senses focused on his approaching mate, Vejiita didn't notice the faint flashing of the scouter in his belt. He hadn't bothered to put it on, even though habit kept it with him. He knew Kakkarot was on his way, and from where, and how far he yet was. What did the scouter have to tell him that he didn't already know?

There was some wisdom in that view. The scouter registered both Kakkarot no Misen and the two large powers approaching from the south. Vejiita was aware of them, but only as inferior powers in the far distance behind Kakkarot. The names patiently blinking next to each power reading might have struck a chord, though. Bardock and Radditz. The surprise would have been enough to trigger his natural wariness, the near-paranoia that had kept him alive as a youth and solidified his reign. Perhaps then, on alert, with all his senses focused on the present time and place, he might have been able to detect what was coming for him even then.

Perhaps not.

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

Turles could hardly keep himself from laughing out loud. Vejiita had conveniently, charmingly, isolated himself from his Guard and raised his ki like a banner for anyone who knew how to look for it.

Turles knew. Senses refined by years of fighting simply for survival had easily located the king, Kakkarot, Radditz, and…Bardock.

Ah, Bardock…

Even from this distance, he could tell, from Radditz' ki that his nephew was injured. He was also accompanying his father voluntarily, for there were no spikes or fluxes that might indicate a fight. That was acceptable. Radditz had given him enough time.

He'd known that Bardock would win Radditz over sooner or later. Deep down, Radditz' anger was more at himself for 'failing' Kakkarot than at Vejiita for his crazed rut. It bred a fury that wouldn't have held up for long in the face of his father's reason and compassion. Or his fists and impatience, come to think of it. Even without opening his link to Bardock, he could practically taste his brother's alarm and anger from here.

Soon, Bardock. Soon we'll all be free, he thought. Once this revenge was done, he would be a free man. He would find his Bardock again and make his brother forgive him. He would heal them both. Then it would all be over. All the shit in his head would be burned out, and he could remember what it was like to be a saiyajin again.

Soon.

He knew he would reach the king before Kakkarot ever got there. All he had to do was catch the bastard off-guard, and it would be done. There were ways to kill an ascended saiyajin, even if Vejiita didn't know it yet.

He wondered again what Kakkarot was doing out tonight, and why. Come to think of it, he wasn't sure why Bardock was where he was, either. Not to mention Vejiita. He'd expected all of them to be closer to the palace. Kakkarot was a Guard now, wasn't he? Turles enjoyed that thought no end; Vejiita's sense of humor must still be intact.

He shook his head. It didn't really matter. As it happened, he'd set the ship down at an almost perfect distance between the objects of his desire. First he would deal with Vejiita, and then Bardock would come and see what he had done.

As for Kakkarot… Turles doubted that his oath to protect and preserve the king's life would run very deep. Vejiita had gifted Kakkarot with pain and blood and betrayal, the standard fare of royal generosity. Turles would see to it, for his family's sake, as well as his own, that Vejiita was paid back in full.

He grinned, thinking of what was to come. Vejiita no Ou, pride of his race, legendary ascended saiyajin. Strength and royal blood made him arrogant, entirely certain that he was out of the reach of justice. Turles had a plan, and the means at hand, to teach him otherwise.

Gathering his carefully suppressed power, Turles shot through the night sky, almost within sight of his goal.

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

Kakkarot burned in the freezing air. He was close, close enough that the warm strength of Vejiita was almost a physical sensation now, instead of the simple thrumming presence it had become in his mind. He fought to control himself, now that he was so close to the man who would be his mate.

He wanted, he needed. He hated and seethed. The desire to be comforted, held, soothed, tasted, and taken flared in response to each wave of loathing. His weakness disgusted him.

He wasn't naïve, or willing to keep lying to himself forever. He knew the source of his current turmoil. His 'mate', the one he'd held such delicate feelings for before being bled and branded, was dominant. The bitterness of that simple fact was enough to make him want to kill everything around him, every serenely sleeping soul he passed over. Despite that vivid dream, despite his anger and rightful need for revenge, his body meant to see him taken and mated.

Submission. The thought made the bile rise in his throat.

It didn't mean as much later on in a bond-mating, but it was necessary at the beginning. It was a fitting of parts, a way of making a harmonious mating between partners of such a ferocious species. Once completely bound, each couple went their own way. He'd never seen mates where one of the pair ruled the other completely. But that didn't matter now.

What mattered was that simple biology meant to make him vulnerable to the one man he couldn't afford it with. The one man who had already proven what he would and could do when Kakkarot trusted him. The urge was already strong to let Vejiita have him.

He knew the king wanted him. He could feel the raw emotion, the biting yearning rolling off the man. It was invasive and terrifying to feel another in his mind that way. He'd grown up with bonds to his brother and father, and was used to the insights of mind and scent and ki. Yet there had never been anything this intimate before, nothing so deep and so…right.

"Bastard!" he snarled, hating himself, hating Vejiita.

He needed Vejiita's blood in his hands. Just to make himself feel normal again. To make himself feel strong, and in control of something, anything. Everything had spun out of his grasp since the first moment he'd realized his king was in rut. He tried to imagine it, to see his fists striking perfect, satin flesh, but in his mind's eye those fists uncurled and adoring palms were sent skimming over soft warmth.

Anger flashed through him, sending energy crackling through the air around him.

He remembered his father and Vejiita together, and the sounds of passion that night after his father had been released from the tank. Bardock's voice, similar to his own, raised in adoration and simple lust, begging for Vejiita. The same lover who'd carved his crest into Kakkarot's back. Clever hands had made Bardock moan. The same hands that had carefully found and isolated the bones in Kakkarot's tail, parting the thick fur to make sure that the pressure would be applied just so, and snapped them in half.

A maelstrom of thoughts overwhelmed him. Hate. Betrayal. Horrible loneliness, after he'd thought he'd found the realization of all those shy, naïve feelings, the crush of a boy on an older, handsome, dynamic man. And such sadness that anger was the only antidote, the only thing that could keep him safe. He saw his father in the tank, convulsing with seizures inflicted by those same hands. And all he could seem to think of now was the feeling of Vejiita's mouth on his skin, of the velvet strength of his tail wrapping his thigh. He wanted it so badly. Wanted to be safe and loved within those arms.

But he couldn't trust him. He couldn't allow himself to have him. Just by existing, Vejiita issued him a challenge he couldn't answer. He was being asked to risk everything for a phantom of future happiness, and he could neither choose nor look away. He balanced on the knife's edge.

And the only way out was rage, the rage that was a saiyajin's birthright, the companion that lurked beneath the skin, the other self. With that, he could regain something of his self-respect, his autonomy. His life. The one in which he was an elite making his own way up, courted by the handsome and the strong, his name well-known to the enemy. A saiyajin who had as much right to his own future as any other.

His tail thrashed behind him as he concentrated, remembering, pulling up the images of something he'd rather forget. Pain, the searing pain in his shoulder and his back as Vejiita bled him at his leisure. Sweat and fear as he made himself hold still, as he was forced to collaborate with his rapist. The feeling of hands on his tail, hands that had stroked and pleasured him, making him tense and groan, torn between the hope that it was over, that he'd pleased the stronger man, and fear of what came next, of what must always come next.

Memories of voices echoed in his head.

"Hey, this little shit's still tight!"

No! He shook his head violently. That hadn't been Vejiita!

"You will keep yourself prepared for me."

But that had been.

His heart surging with rage and anguish, his power exploding, Kakkarot screamed defiance at his fate and went to meet it.

~tbc~