Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Dominion ❯ Chapter 16

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 16

Vejiita no Ou, king of all saiyajins, retched onto ground muddied with his own blood. One hand held the wound in his throat shut, while the other shakily held his face out of the dirt. For a few long moments, he wasn't aware of much else.

Slowly, he realized that the violent, ugly sounds in his head were real and external.

Raising his head, he blinked the blood out of his eyes to look around. There was an astonishing amount of shifting, flickering light, and the earth trembled beneath him. For a moment, he had no idea where he was.

He was alive. The pain told him that much. Even though he could feel the long, shallow wound in his throat sealing itself shut, the mere fact of having been hurt there, in such a vulnerable place, made him feel sick and afraid. He shoved those feelings away as ruthlessly and completely as he could, knowing that he couldn't afford them now. Whatever had happened, whatever would happen, he could not be weak in the face of it.

As if the universe recognized these thoughts as the challenge they were, there came a cry of pain and anger, laced with defiance. Vejiita jerked upright, despite the agony of torn muscles and broken skin. He recognized that sound immediately. After all, he had heard it with his heart before it reached his ears.

Kakkarot.

Where was he? Vejiita made himself stand, flailing his tail reflexively for balance. The agony that simple motion caused sent him back to his knees. He ground his teeth together, willing himself not to vomit again. His tail was still broken. Fucking perfect. Breathing deeply, he forced himself to his feet again.

All around him, for as far as he could see, stretched the devastation left by battle. The rolling hills had been transformed into pits and craters and piles of up-flung earth. To the south, the thickly forested slopes were on fire, sending pillars of smoke up to meet the clouds. This mild, pleasant place had been shifted into a fair vision of hell. The irony was not lost on him.

Such destruction was the reason the saiyajins had expanded off-world in the first place. The contract with Furiza had, besides bringing Vegetasei needed technology, channeled the destructive energy of the elite elsewhere. Vejiita understood this as well as his father had. His kind had become too dangerous for their own homeworld. Turles had been only one of many sent out to do his damage on other planets, to other species.

He looked up into skies torn by the titanic forces of yet another fight. Flashes of golden light reflected in his dark eyes. His mate was up there, a second sun in the night. Kakkarot had ascended, thinking him dead. He marveled at it, knowing full well the depth of anguish needed to trigger such a thing. Pride, too, swelled in his heart: his mate, his mate, had ascended!

But there was no time for this now! He groaned and then lifted his fists into the air, forcing the ascension from his own body once again. Kakkarot might be a saiyajin god, but he was fighting a saiyajin demon, and he was losing. Vejiita could feel it.

He exploded in glory, and with a feral snarl shot skyward.

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

Turles grinned and kicked his nephew in the face. It was a good fight, and the brat had surprised him; he found a sort of perverse, entirely saiyajin, pleasure in that. Besides, now he had a good idea what he himself must look like in this form; he'd never seen it before.

He had barely gotten a taste of royal blood before he'd been struck by overwhelming force and sent flying. What a shock it had been to see Kakkarot then.

There was a certain primal delight in all this, and it urged him to slow down and savor the moment. His opponent was beautiful to watch and a delight to battle with. But they were not equally matched, and there was a fair chance he might end up killing the brat. That infuriated him, stoking his fires and keeping him after Kakkarot relentlessly, trying to beat the will to fight out of him. Vejiita had to be finished, one way or another, and Kakkarot's attack had interrupted that pleasure.

He hadn't been able to get back to Vejiita since. If Kakkarot had been an annoyance before, he was a verified pain in the ass now. Turles was proud of Bardock's hellspawn, the very image of night turned into day, but it disgusted him that his own family would fight so hard to protect Vejiita.

Vejiita! Whatever hold he had on Kakkarot, it was giving the saiyajin strength beyond what simple ascension should have brought him. Or perhaps it was less strength than willpower. After all, Vejiita had only been fighting for himself. He had no idea what was driving Kakkarot, other than loyalty to an undeserving king. It puzzled and annoyed him.

Ultimately, however, it wasn't going to matter. He was a level beyond Kakkarot, and willing to do whatever was necessary. Almost.

Turles chased Kakkarot through the filthy air, knocking him backward with a flurry of blows almost no one else could have survived. He was not holding back, and Kakkarot was soon reeling from the brutal assault. Still Kakkarot would not give in, would not back off. He took more damage than he should have been capable of, and he always came back. He kept himself between Turles and Vejiita, warily meeting each attack no matter what the cost in blood and pain. Despite his greater speed and strength, Turles could not get by him without running the risk of killing him outright.

A strike, and Turles felt the spray of blood from his nephew's mouth as one fist nearly disappeared in Kakkarot's stomach. He hesitated then, his hand slick suddenly with blood or sweat. Pulling back, he saw scarlet-black trails snaking down his wrist.

He could see Kakkarot crouching in the air, not retreating but not charging him either. The young saiyajin's mouth spilled blood, and his scalp was bleeding freely, painting him garishly. He was breathing hard, and sweat dripped from his chin. His tail was looped around his left arm, holding it immobile against his body. Turquoise eyes, though, were bright and hard, and Kakkarot cupped the first flare of another ki strike in his right hand.

Those eyes told Turles everything. He was going to have to beat Kakkarot all the way down before he got to Vejiita.

With a sudden, weary pang of dismay, he realized that he might not be able to. Despite all the years he had spent working toward this night, revenge might trickle out of his grasp. Bardock's youngest son was facing him, now, and though Turles had the strength to win, he might not have the will. Kakkarot was making victory contingent on his own death, and Turles was no longer sure he could pay that price.

His memory flashed to the sight of Radditz' tail parting under his hands, the dark blood staining the deck of his ship.

Haven't I done my brother enough harm?

Yet if he stopped now, all of this had been for nothing.

Kakkarot was waiting for him.

"Are you going to die for him, boy?" Turles asked almost sadly.

"If I have to." Kakkarot said steadily, his gaze never wavering.

Turles held out a hand, palm outwards. Immediately, the center began to glow brightly. "I don't want to kill you. You're the image of your father. Move out of the way, Kakkarot."

"No. I won't let you hurt him again."

"Such devotion. After what he did to you… Stand aside."

His words hurt Kakkarot, punctured his pride and let the pain seethe to the surface. Turles could see it in his face.

"I didn't fucking ask for this!" Kakkarot screamed at him suddenly, his control breaking. "But Vejiita is my MATE! I will not move!!"

Turles stared at him in shock and dismay.

Why would Kakkarot say that? It could not be true!

Yet with a sick feeling, Turles began to realize it was true.

Saiyajins weren't prone to lying about such things; they were far too important. Mating bonds were physical realities, taking their toll on any saiyajin whose mate was injured or killed. They were also mystical, joinings of the soul, blendings of the heart. They weren't trifled with, or joked about. More than, that, though, there was simply Kakkarot and the battle they were in the midst of.

They were family, though this was the first time they had truly met. Perhaps that was the reason that Turles could hardly miss the determination in his nephew's voice and actions. The pain and anger, the grief and helpless pride that fueled Kakkarot's hopeless stand resonated deeply within him.

Maybe it was the simple fact that he understood better than almost anyone else what depth of passion was needed to bring ascension.

Whatever it was, Turles believed him. Because of who he was, and what he most cared about in the world, what came next was almost inevitable.

Kakkarot launched himself at Turles, but the older saiyajin was not there when he arrived. Instead, he found his uncle a few feet away, the ki charge fading from his hand. In fact, the gold was bleeding from his hair. In a matter of a few moments, Turles went from saiyajin god to weary saiyajin warrior. Weary beyond the words to describe it.

Kakkarot paused, staring at him, his face full of questions. His hand was still poised to launch a strike more than strong enough to destroy Turles in this form. Instinct gave him mixed messages, telling him to attack the threat to his mate, but also not to kill family. More than that, he recognized that expression of hopeless exhaustion on Turles' face, the look of passions long out of reach.

"You win, boy," Turles said quietly. "You're his pardon."

"What do you mean?" Kakkarot asked hoarsely, not letting the charge in his hand dissipate.

Turles smirked, his expression much like Bardock's. "I've always been too fucking weak. I couldn't save my own crew. And now, I can't kill Bardock's son, either with my own hands or by destroying his mate. He doesn't deserve you, but you're his reprieve."

Kakkarot held his gaze for a long moment or a few seconds: he couldn't tell which. Then, in the back of his mind, he heard Radditz desperately telling him things he didn't want to hear. He shook his head, but his brother's voice became louder, more insistent. Turles… Bardock…something.

He could kill Turles right now. He wanted to. But Radditz was being Radditz; he wouldn't shut the fuck up, and eventually Kakkarot sighed and began to power down a little.

"Turles," he started to say. Then the other saiyajin was gone, his body hurtling earthward in a long, graceful arc after Vejiita's foot connected with his spine.

Kakkarot stared at the bloody, glowing vision of pissed-off saiyajin royalty before him. He'd felt Vejiita power up, but his dazed, otherwise-occupied mind hadn't made much of it. Vejiita was poised and tense, his body still ready to continue the attack. He was the very icon of saiyajin might and strength. Of course he'd gotten what he wanted. Didn't he always?

Then it struck him. He had ascended. For the first time, he and Vejiita were equals. Maybe not in title or in rank, but out here, on the battlefield…

His hand still cupped some of the brilliant ki charge.

Vejiita looked up at him, his eyes showing not triumph but relief. Relief that Kakkarot was safe. Pride that he had made him so.

That look… was almost intoxicating. To be valued so highly… Kakkarot was far from immune. He found that he was smiling, without meaning to. Vejiita smiled in return, and it occurred to Kakkarot that it was the first truly happy smile he'd seen on that handsome, arrogant face. It wasn't a smirk, or a wry grimace, or anything but pleasure at being there, with him.

The charge in his hand flared out of existence.

Kakkarot sighed, letting himself slip out of ascension. He didn't know if he'd ever attain it again, but he was too damned tired to care. It had been the longest freaking day of his entire life.

"Vejiita?"

Sea-green eyes were warm as they met his. It was the first quiet moment they'd had together since…the rut.

"Yes, Kakkarot?"

"Is your life always like this?"

Vejiita had to think about it. "No," he said slowly. "Sometimes it's even fucking weirder."

"Great." Kakkarot said, nodding sagely. The last thing he remembered before passing out cold was the strength of the warm arms wrapped around him, holding him tight, while a murmuring voice promised never to let him fall.

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

Bardock hit the ground hard enough to drive his feet several inches into the loose soil. He barely noticed as he stumbled forward to drop to his knees at the side of the unconscious saiyajin.

Turles.

His breath caught in his chest. That face, more familiar once than his own, was pale and drawn, marked with hard years and harder experiences. Blood leaked slowly from his nose and mouth. Yet the tousled hair was the same, and the long, well-built body was as he remembered under the armor and marks of battle. The low, flickering ki was, without question, his brother's.

Bardock made himself breathe, and drew in a scent as familiar to him as his sons' or Vejiita's. It was heavily laced with strong emotions and the faint ozone stench he knew from Vejiita after he'd ascended.

It was true, then.

He looked up and saw Vejiita descending with an unconscious Kakkarot held securely in his arms. Both were wounded, and Vejiita was still golden, but they lived, and he knew they both would heal. He could not help but note that his son's tail was securely twined around Vejiita's thigh.

He felt the surge of anger from Radditz, harshly repressed as his eldest went to Vejiita and took his bloodied brother from him, cradling him with much the same care. Kakkarot moved restlessly as Radditz took him, but he didn't wake. After a moment, calmed by his brother's familiar scent, he relaxed and his tail hooked loosely with Radditz'.

Bardock caught the fierce expression in Radditz' eyes as he held Kakkarot's battered body to himself. He might have acknowledged and understood that his brother was bound to Vejiita, but his heart still burned. Bardock nodded, knowing precisely what the need to protect and avenge felt like.

Slowly, with the tenderest care, he picked Turles up and cradled him, marveling at the solid warmth of the saiyajin who'd long ago become a phantom to him. His eyes closed momentarily in bliss.

Turles… All those years of grief, absence, and pervasive loneliness. He traced a scar on his brother's brow, wondering how it had come to be. What had happened to him during all those years? What had brought him to such a peak of despair that he'd ascended? He kissed his brother's forehead gently, tasting sweat and blood, and let his mind drift against Turles' own, skimming the surface until his awareness was caught and held. Their bond had never truly been severed, only silenced, and it took little effort now, with Turles in his arms, with reality pressed against him, to awaken it.

Turles sighed and moaned. His tail slipped around Bardock's waist to coil his elder brother's tail as he knelt there in the dirt, forgetting everything else.

"Who is he?"

"His… our uncle Turles." Radditz said carefully. He could scent Kakkarot's blood on Turles, and he bared his teeth at the limp body in Bardock's arms. But of course Kakkarot would have attacked him to protect Vejiita. Maybe this was all unavoidable.

"Why is he here?" Vejiita's voice was hard, full of cold anger. Yet Radditz saw how the king could barely keep his eyes off Kakkarot even though he'd given him over to Radditz, how he even now stood between Turles and his mate.

His mate. With a sigh, Radditz told him everything he knew about Turles, and everything that had happened. He made no effort to cover up his own small part in it, or his own intentions. Those unnatural eyes regarded him coolly as he spoke, evaluating him. When he was done, Vejiita merely nodded at him, and turned to the pair still on the ground before him.

"Put him down and move away, Bardock."

Turles' eyes fluttered open, finally focusing on who held him, and on where he was. His tail coiled Bardock's tightly, making the elder brother hiss slightly, and his arms went around Bardock's waist. For a moment, despite the pain and the threat standing over him, he could only think of Bardock. It was enough to be with him again, to breathe him in, and feel that comforting presence in his mind that was his brother. If everything ended now, at least he'd had this instant.

Then he turned to look at Vejiita. He had absolutely no illusions of safely.

Bardock looked up and met his king's eyes at the same moment. Vejiita was struck, suddenly, by the resemblance between their expressions. He was not surprised by what Bardock said next.

"Kill us both." Bardock said calmly, pulling Turles' battered body closer to him. The traitorous saiyajin thrashed a little and moaned at this, trying to negate his brother's decision.

"Saa, Turles, no." Bardock said, smiling a little, trying to calm him.

"Let him go," Vejiita growled, holding out one hand. The palm began to glow in warning.

"Fuck you." Bardock said, bending his head to nuzzle his brother's hair lightly. "I don't owe you this. I have served you all my life. You have my son. But I will not, I will never give my brother up to you, Vejiita."

"Will you die for him?" Vejiita barked, unknowingly echoing Turles. His fury at this defiance was bitter. He could taste Kakkarot's blood, could feel his mate's pains, and before him was Bardock, his Bardock, refusing him vengeance.

"Yes." Cold, heavy, and absolute, the word dropped between them, shattering years of unquestionable allegiance. Shattering the last remnants what once might have been.

Vejiita drew his hand back, grinning mirthlessly. Bardock was a saiyajin warrior, a man with more years of fighting and hardship behind him than Vejiita had years of life. He was prepared to take him at his word.

"No." His attention was wrenched to Turles, who had managed to bring himself somewhat upright in Bardock's arms. Once again their similarity struck Vejiita. He'd never known Turles, only the grief his absence and seeming death had caused. Now the shared emotions were plain in their faces and the despair, pride, and absurd joy at even being together made them seem identical. Only Bardock's scar and the blood pulsing from Turles' mouth with every breath told the tale between them.

"Bar…dock stays safe. Must be safe!" Turles choked out, hissing the last word as his breath failed him.

"You should have thought of that before you attacked me! Before you covered yourself in my mate's blood!"

Bardock stared at Vejiita, understanding the fear in his heart, and the fury that the blood stench only encouraged in him. He understood it, but here was Vejiita, his lover, his sovereign, threatening the life that once again meant more to him than his own. Turles struggled to say something more, but Bardock silenced him, laying his fingers gently across his mouth and brushing his own lips across Turles' brow.

That tenderness was lost on neither Vejiita nor Radditz, though the former struggled to ignore it.

"Vejiita-sama," Bardock said softly. "once you saw everything you loved threatened, and you ascended to save it. I know Kakkarot is well-mated, that already you would give your life to save my son. You're like him in that. With both of you, it's everything or nothing."

He paused and looked up at Radditz, holding his brother in his arms. It had always been that way with them. He felt tears sting the corners of his eyes as he thought of them together, young and in pain, Radditz holding his brother close and vowing vengeance on those who dared hurt Kakkarot. He wished, beyond all things, suddenly, that he had been there, that he could change that past and erase all that pain.

Then he closed his eyes, banishing Vejiita and the death he had prepared for them, and inhaled deeply of his brother's scent. Nothing mattered but Turles, this closeness, this reality of all that was lost being found again. Even if death took them now, they would be together.

"He hates you, rightly or not, for all that was lost, Vejiita." Bardock continued, his voice still disconcertingly gentle. "Pain moves him, anguish for what cannot be set right. You know what it feels like, what it would have felt like if you hadn't been able to kill Furiza. If you'd had to watch the end of everything you loved. Tell me, then, that you don't understand why he did this. Radditz forgave him. Kakkarot could have killed him and did not. If you still need revenge, if you still have to punish him, understand that you'll have to punish us both. I won't leave him. I won't let him suffer alone again. I should have been there for him, I should have found him, but I didn't. I won't abandon him now."

Silence.

The contrast with the battle that had gone before, and with the passion of words and intentions, was such that the new quiet was almost deafening. It took some time to realize that this was truthfully no silence at all. Harsh breathing could be heard, and the bubbling rasp of Turles forcing air into and out of his ruptured chest. From a distance, the sounds of the forest fire grew as the inferno fed on itself. The soft, supernatural wail of the pulsing energy in Vejiita's hand overlaid everything else.

Vejiita's eyes narrowed, noting the care and the possessiveness with which Bardock cradled his brother to his chest. He had a flash of memory: Bardock sobbing on the floor of his antechamber, Nappa cradling his head and trying awkwardly to soothe a hurt that could not be touched.

He'd only been a boy, and confused at what he'd seen. A handful of Guards had been gathered around the two, and he'd heard the faint, sympathetic keening that one or more of them had been unable to keep trapped in their throats. It had been a few minutes before the cause of it all had been whispered into his ear. Tragedy: bonded brothers torn apart, Turles dead, Bardock left behind. Radditz had been there, holding his young brother in his arms much as he did now, his bewildered eyes meeting those of the young king.

Vejiita ground his teeth together, trying not to remember that, trying to think of Kakkarot bleeding, falling limp in his arms. Instead, he remembered his own sons standing in front of him, their tails hooked firmly together as Juro waited with Rai, determined to share his brother's punishment. The young ouji's dismay at having to spend so much time apart from his brother. The fierce twining of their tails as sentence was passed.

Bonded brothers, he'd thought, making plans on how they could be kept together for the rest of their lives. Such a rare thing, a gift. In the villages, they still considered such a bonded pair a blessing from the gods, a reward for re-born souls.

There was no doubt in Bardock's eyes, only a complete willingness to die, if that was what it took to stay with his brother. It made Vejiita feel hollow.

/Please, Vejiita. Not for me. Not this. I swear I will love you for the rest of my life, if only you let them go./

He turned as the warm, intimate voice sounded in his mind, knowing that he would see Kakkarot's eyes open and watching him. And so they were. Radditz carefully set his brother's feet on the ground, hovering protectively to catch him if need be.

/Is that why? Is that the only reason you would ever love me? To repay a debt?/ Vejiita wasn't even aware that he meant to say anything until he felt the words cross the aether to his mate. It was a weak, pathetic plea, a betrayal of the strength and ruthlessness that he had relied upon for so long to keep his throne and his people safe. Yet he was incapable of not making it. He felt invaded, stripped bare by the fight, the risk he had run of losing Kakkarot, and the pair before him, their lives balancing on the razor edge of his rage.

Kakkarot came to him, and traced the sharp planes of his face with gentle fingers. /In some ways, I think I've already loved you my whole life. If I hadn't, I could never have hated you so much./ He smiled, a lopsided, shy sort of expression. /I would have given my life for you tonight, Vejiita. I felt your fear, and your rage for me. You know I never wanted this, but we are bound together. And so are they. You know that's why Turles went for you before seeing his brother. Otousan would never have let him hurt you. Turles may hate you, but he won't ever hurt Otousan by harming you now. We both know that. Let them live./

Very softly, he kissed Vejiita's mouth, gentle lips working magic. Kakkarot gave himself freely, teasing the hard, unresponsive mouth with a shy tongue.

For an instant it could have gone the other way. Vejiita could have held his rage closer to him, could have succumbed to the cold logic that told him to destroy anyone that had proved such a threat to what he was and what he loved. If experience had taught him nothing else, it had taught him that.

Yet, Kakkarot was right, and he knew that too. The proof was in Kakkarot, who had both hated him and ascended for fear of losing him, all within the space of an hour. It was in Bardock, willing to die with a brother he hadn't seen in over twenty years rather than abandon him for even a moment. It was in Radditz' need to protect and avenge his own brother, even at the cost of treason. And it could even be found in Nappa's willingness to sell his life to gain Vejiita a few moments to recover.

If he was safe from Turles because of Kakkarot and Bardock, Turles was safe from him, for exactly the same reasons.

Vejiita accepted it. With a sigh he ran an arm around Kakkarot's waist and brought his other hand up to run through the soft hair at the back of his neck, deepening their kiss and then holding him close. His mate. He felt the warmth and pleasure of being found, of losing his solitude forever. He was as completely captured as the man in his arms was. He was a saiyajin, the Saiyajin no Ou, and if love and passion, the bonds of mates and brothers and family, ruled his kind, how much more was he their subject?

"Live," he said to Bardock and Turles, still kneeling on the ground before him, and that was all he said. Nothing more was needed.

Bardock smiled faintly, his eyes focused on nothing. He was already lost within the private space that only he and Turles shared. His brother leaned against him, home at last.

Radditz glowered at the saiyajin king. He was not privy to their conversation, of course, though he was certain Kakkarot wasn't unhappy at the moment. The reflexive need for retaliation still burned him, however, made all the worse because he had clearly seen a portion of the royal insignia scarred into his brother's back. Yet Kakkarot had made some sort of peace with what had happened, and it wasn't Radditz' place to spoil that, even if he could.

Fate might have had a hand in this bond, but he couldn't help feeling uneasy, as if it were false in some way. Perhaps he couldn't imagine Kakkarot forgiving anyone for hurting him as Vejiita had. He couldn't imagine himself doing it. Yet the bond was a fact he would have to force himself to accept. He would do nothing to injure Kakkarot's happiness, however much the cause of it might unsettle him.

It was time to leave this place. At Vejiita's request, Radditz gathered Nappa up, careful of his massive injuries, and brought him back to where the others waited. Nappa was obviously in a great deal of pain, and he only spoke once before passing out after Radditz touched earth with him. What he said, though, was so highly detailed and morally offensive, not to mention physiologically dubious, that it could hardly be taken as anything other than a good sign.

Vejiita tucked his aching tail up under his armor and let go of his ascension. There were no more threats here. His enemies had been caught in the net of saiyajin bonds and saiyajin affinities, and regardless of their former intentions, they were all family now. He took his mate's hand and lifted into the air, stealing one more kiss before leading them all home.

~The End…

…except an epilogue still to come ~