Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Kingdom Come ❯ Chapter 14: Showtime ( Chapter 14 )

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

WARNING: See Chapter 1

Kingdom Come
~Chapter 14Goten sat comfortably alone in the royal box, nearly lounging. His tail was wrapped loosely around his waist. It was early yet. The final match of the tournament wouldn't be starting for nearly an hour, but he wanted to be there before everyone else. There was a certain privacy just sitting alone in the royal box, and no one would notice him just sitting and thinking there, so he felt somewhat safe, allowing himself to reflect back upon the past twelve or so hours.

Once he'd gotten out of the rejuvenation chamber the day before, he'd been dismayed at not seeing Piccolo waiting for him like the last time. And then he'd had to contend with his father and his brother for far longer than he would've ever wanted. They weren't disappointed, strangely enough, but they weren't supportive either. When at long last he'd been allowed to retire from their company, his first action was to find Piccolo, who happened to have gone to his room for the night. The door to the guest's room opened, and there stood Piccolo, clad only in his indigo gi pants. Goten knew everything would be all right when the taller male instantly reached for him, pulling him into a close embrace and shutting the door behind him.

There had been no kisses, no touches, no carnal relations of any sort. They just held each other until they fell asleep in Piccolo's bed. It was perfect. Just to be content in that by itself.

The real joy came to the young prince when he awoke this morning, early enough that it was still dark outside. Goten was snuggled up against Piccolo, half of his body draped over the larger man's. Piccolo's cheek rested against the demi-saiyajin's forehead, and his arms were wrapped securely around him. Nothing had ever felt more... appropriate to the youth. Gazing up at the green, angular face, he knew it hadn't been in vain to spend his life alone thus far. He'd only been waiting for Piccolo.

With great care, Goten extricated one of his arms. Gently, he began to trace Piccolo's features, his fingertips dancing over green skin softer than a feather. He didn't want to awaken Piccolo. He just wanted to memorize every curve, dip, and line on the man's face by touch. He already knew it by sight. And by heart.

But, sadly, he also knew he had to leave. There would be no acceptable explanation for having the green male's scent all over him, much less being caught leaving his room after a night. Trying carefully to extract himself from long limbs that didn't seem to want to let him go, Goten gasped in surprise when he suddenly found himself rolled onto his back with Piccolo on top of him.

"Going somewhere?" the tall warrior had inquired.

"My room," the prince had responded quietly and unafraid. He knew Piccolo wasn't going to harm him, nor was he going to try anything. He was just curious. Goten also noticed that the larger male felt very good where he was, his larger body pinning him to the bed. "To get ready for the day."

"I see."

They shared one long, languid kiss before Piccolo released him. Putting on his shoes, Goten turned in the doorway to look back at the older man. "Good luck, Piccolo."

Prince Goten's reverie was broken by the arrival of his father, Mistress Bulma, and Zarbon. Goten resituated himself to be seated more properly. Had so much time passed already? Checking his scouter, he saw that a mere fifteen minutes remained before the final round of the tournament was to begin. "Well," Lord Kakarrot said, smirking. "I can always count on -you- to be early, Goten."

"Good morning, father," Goten greeted politely. In turn, he nodded to Bulma and her guard out of courtesy rather than actual respect. He wondered if any of them thought anything of that; previously, the prince wouldn't even acknowledge the presence of the two accompanying his father. Damn his softening resolve towards other people. Piccolo was a bad influence.

"So, my son, feeling less pathetic than yesterday?"

Goten's eyes narrowed just slightly at the jab. "I'm doing quite well, thank you, milord."

"This should be an interesting match today, hmm?" grinned the saiyajin royal. "You can take comfort in the fact that your brother will trounce Demon Lord Piccolo and avenge your loss."

"On the contrary, father," Goten returned. His eyes fixed on the waiting area where he watched part of Piccolo's white cape fluttering in the slight breeze of the day. Slowly, he became aware that he could also -feel- the warrior's presence. It was small, that sensation, but it was there. Turning his eyes away and directing them at his father, he spoke again. "I think Piccolo has an excellent chance at beating Gohan."

"Intriguing," noted Lord Kakarrot. "And is this something you would actually -want- to have happen?"

"Perhaps," the prince answered. "Gohan hasn't been defeated for as long as I can remember. It might be... entertaining to see him lose for once."

An amused, devious smile spread across the emperor's lips. "You're sounding particularly vicious this morning, Goten. I like it. Care to make a wager on the final bout?"

Goten tilted his head to one side, considering his father's words with an appraising look. He had to be cautious. Very cautious. "What are the stakes?"

"Should the Demon Lord win, I'll never say another word about your taking a mate. You will be released from your obligation to choose a mate and produce heirs," Lord Kakarrot said, his eyes narrowing. This was a topic of many disagreements, fights even, between them. And it was also an area of concern for the ruler. He needed sons to produce heirs. If he had thought that it was going to be this difficult getting grandchildren, he'd have demanded that his sons been born as females. They, at least, get pregnant.

"And should Gohan prevail?" Goten inquired. He did his best to make his voice emotionless, hiding how excited he was.

"You will lose your precious 'purity'. And I will choose the partner," his father stated with a sense of finality.

The demi-saiyajin paled, grimacing, as his father's words sunk into his brain. If Gohan won... Lord Kakarrot would force him to sleep with someone who wasn't Piccolo. He knew it would be some female, someone in whom he could never be interested. But attaining his freedom... no longer being obligated to 'settle down' to create a family was the one thing he'd wanted ever since he found out it was expected of him. Was he willing to take that risk? Did he have enough faith in Piccolo's strength? Did he have enough faith in Piccolo? Steadying himself, he stared straight into his father's dark eyes. "I accept."

"Excellent." Lord Kakarrot sat back in his chair, his mind rolling through his options once he'd won this wager. He thought, only briefly, of forcing his strange son to bed the enigmatic Demon Lord with Prince Gohan as an observer. It would be entertaining on one level, as it would put brother against brother. The proud father always did enjoy forcing them into confrontations. It made them both stronger, wiser, and better fighters. Yet, even as he did so, they had to remain loyal to each other, as it was also the only way to survive. He dismissed the idea as quickly as it appeared before him, as he wanted at least ONE of his sons to have his taste in choosing a bed-partner.

He glanced out of the corner of his eye at his son. He knew that of their subjects, they were both feared, but it was Goten who haunted people's nightmares. He knew that the people thought of Goten as the worst of them, the most vicious and cruel. After all, if they were to cross Prince Gohan, or even Lord Kakarrot himself, they would simply die. But with Prince Goten, well, there are worse things than death.

The tailed liege knew that he would have to oversee Goten's... loss of virginity. Personally. He had to admit, though, that Goten did have a nice figure, and he probably had stamina too. That made the emperor think that maybe he and his son should just invite a great many females to a large room. And while Goten performed for them, he and Gohan could partake of the other females...

Then there was also the idea that perhaps he could just marry his son off. If he did that, he would have to make sure it was a worthy match. Someone of power. Someone of decent dowry. Someone who wouldn't bore any of the royal family. Tilting his head to the side, Lord Kakarrot thought that perhaps be best advisor in that area would probably be the woman to his side, Mistress Bulma. Granted, she didn't talk to anyone when she attended the parties and functions, but that did not mean she did not know who was who and what was going on. She was a wise woman, after all. Very wise. And very beautiful. And what was wrong with him that thinking of his son performing a sex show got him thinking that it was time to bed his own lovely woman?

Below them in the Ginyu box, Goten took notice of the two human guests for the first time that day. When had they arrived? He hadn't even realized they had. They were just... there. Neither of them cared to notice him back; they were in deep, hushed conversation.

"Have you heard the bets being made?" Yamcha asked his bald friend. "It's worse than yesterday!"

"I heard Gohan's never lost," replied Krillin. "He's heavily favored to win."

"What do you think Piccolo's chances are?"

"Piccolo's gonna win. If I had any money, I'd bet it all on him." The short human cast a funny sideways glance at Yamcha. "Come on, man. You know how this works. Even if Gohan turns out to be stronger and faster -- which is highly unlikely considering that no one here is hiding their chi, I might add -- than him, Piccolo's still got all that experience and brains. He always was smarter than the rest of us, the bastard."

A sly smirk popped up on Yamcha's face. "You really would bet if we had money?"

"Of course!" Krillin grinned. "But we don't, so what difference does it make?"

"Be right back," Yamcha said cryptically, quickly hopping out of his seat and leaving the Ginyu box. Confused, the bald man sat in his chair, toying with his sash, waiting for his companion to get back from wherever he'd gone. Looking to his left, he saw nothing but empty seats; apparently, the remaining Ginyu force still wasn't up to watching the end of the tournament. He couldn't really blame them since they'd all gotten fairly well thrashed. Suddenly, Yamcha sat back down in his seat and dropped a small brown pouch in Krillin's lap.

"What's this?"

"Money," Yamcha stated. "And a lot of it. Go bet."

Dropping his voice to the barest of whispers, he asked, "Did you -steal- this?"

"Yeah. So?"

"You pickpocket."

"It's always good to stay in practice even when you don't -need- to do it." The scarred fighter appeared pensive for a moment. "Where have I heard that before?"

"Piccolo's always saying that. For someone who doesn't like to talk much, he sure says a lot, doesn't he?" He knew there were only a couple of minutes left before the match between Piccolo and Gohan started, and that betting would be closed off the second the fight began. 'Well,' he thought, 'It's only money. Maybe we can even return the original amount to the owner. That is, if Yamcha can remember who it was. Oh, well. No big.' Scooping up the bag, Krillin exited the box to place his bet, unaware that familiar eyes watched him from elsewhere in the arena.

Standing just inside the entryway leading to the arena floor, Piccolo peered out. The stadium was filling up quickly, and there was the subtle roar of many voices talking at once. His ears twitched slightly, listening to the sounds. He had woken up pleasantly enough, but the day was quickly turning sour. He turned his head to acknowledge the approaching prince. "Good day, Prince Gohan."

"Hopefully it will be, Demon Lord," Gohan smiled, a twisted mockery of what the true Gohan would have done. "Are you already prepared for me?"

Piccolo did not miss the double meaning in that statement. It was blatantly clear what the prince meant, as he was looking with naked hunger in his eyes. The prince's brown tail curled up behind him, its tip curled. Piccolo reflected a moment on how, when Prince Gohan's tail curled, it resembled a hook; but when Prince Goten's tail curled, it ended up looking like a large question mark. But that was only a momentary reflection, and had nothing to do with the topic at hand. Piccolo replied with the more obvious statement, "Even if I were not, it would not matter. It's almost time to fight."

"Hmmm. So it is," Gohan agreed. "Still. I think it only fair to warn you, I'm a bit... more experienced than my little brother. You may find that my stamina for such strenuous activities far exceeds his."

"I'll keep that in mind," Piccolo said, almost as if he were dismissing the prince.

Gohan picked up on the dismissal, though. His grin intensified, more out of arrogance and annoyance than out of anything pleasant. "You sound as if you think you have a chance of actually winning, dear Demon Lord. It would be wise of you to understand that I haven't lost this tournament since I was a mere child."

"There's always a first time for everything," Piccolo stated, his eyes narrowing. "And for everyone."

"Heh," Gohan sounded, his arms folding across his chest. "You are a challenge, Demon Lord Piccolo. I will give you that much. You are a challenge. And I so do love to have a good challenge."

To that Piccolo had nothing to say, so he remained silent. Somehow, he was not surprised when Gohan continued.

"I can't wait to have you." Gohan's voice was softly dangerous. His eyes traversed the green man's body, noting that there wasn't a single blemish from all the days of fighting. He, himself, had one cut, but that was only because he got a bit careless and his opponent got lucky.

At that moment, the signal was given that the fighters needed to approach the arena. As silent as the wind, Piccolo walked out into the midmorning light. Prince Gohan had to hurry to catch up to keep in line with his opponent. His slight frown was all the sign he gave that he was not pleased with the larger man.

Not pleased at all.

Upon stepping foot onto the cracked white tiles, though, the elder prince began to cheer up a bit. He was the best after all. He'd win this competition. And he'd win Piccolo. And he would show the Demon Lord who was truly the best there was in the palace. The best at everything. Of course, Gohan's mood was also improved by the steady cheering that the crowd was engaged in. They repeated his name over and over again, as if it were some holy mantra. As if it brought them all euphoria. As if it was what was sustaining them.

Grinning broadly, Prince Gohan raised his arms and turned in place, allowing his followers to increase the volume of their exaltations. The crowd went mad. His smile brightened considerably when he saw the lowest row, above the door exiting the arena, was overflowing with very luscious individuals, all of them nearly falling out of their places in their eagerness. The prince laughed as garments and precious presents rained down, and they were all for him. It was like this every time he fought.

Gohan loved it. All of it. The attention. The women. The men. The others. The gifts. The praise. The fact that they all worshipped him like the living god he was.

He devoured it all, making it part of who he was.

He dipped at the waist, a mockery of a bow to his fans, before turning to bow to Piccolo. As he lowered his upper torso, he looked up, a sign of disrespect if there ever was one, and puckered his lips in a promise of a kiss.

Piccolo narrowed his eyes in vexation and disgust. How could Gohan, any dimension's version, be turned and corrupted into this? He rose up, and bowed to Lord Kakarrot. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Gohan moving.

The prince's swift kick flew through the air even as the gong sounded that the fight was to begin. But to Gohan's chagrin, Piccolo wasn't there. Grinning wickedly, Gohan looked all around him, missing the flash of green and white that was the larger male as he landed behind the prince. The demi-saiyajin felt the Demon Lord's swift uppercut to his back, though.

The crowd was reduced to a low roar of murmurs and shouts. This was unprecedented! No one had ever managed to land the first blow against the royal heir. Not since the boy was a child, at least. It was a shame that the fight soon picked up to an intensity that did not allow most of the weaker warriors gathered to view the fight, otherwise they might have noticed some of what was transpiring between the two combatants.

There were several people present who could watch, though. Krillin and Yamcha could be heard shouting for their green companion, but most everyone already knew who their champion was. They were the only human males present who were also free, or at least assumed free. The word was out on with whose party they belonged. But the fact that Prince Goten's voice rang out in the arena was a shock to a great many.

"C'mon, Piccolo! Kick his ass!" Prince Goten was on his feet, his tail wrapped securely around him. His hands were fisted in the air as he shouted for Piccolo, calling out the Demon Lord's name. He grinned back at his father, baring his teeth. If it weren't for the wager between them, Goten would have to pretend to be indifferent. He'd have to pretend to want both to win. But the stakes were high, and he was going to cheer on HIS champion. The hybrid prince turned back to the fight.

Lord Kakarrot grinned as he called out for Gohan, ordering his son to triumph. "Gohan! You'd better win this! Otherwise, -I'm- going to come out there and kick your royal ass!"

A great many eyebrows were raised at the two royals' antics. Some suspected that they were a bit high on the catnip, but others simply shrugged it off as some kind of eccentric behavior that comes from being too powerful.

In the ring, and in the air, the two opponents sidestepped and dodged each other's rapid attacks. Gohan was a bit concerned, as he wasn't used to this level of competition for any length of time. He wasn't sure, but he rather thought he'd have to go into his ascended form. Which was fine by him. He looked damn good as a blond, after all. But his brother's cheers were getting on his nerves.

"Shut -up-, Goten!" the elder prince growled under his breath. How -dare- that little brat cheer for the competition! As if he wasn't having a difficult enough time concentrating on the fight. He had wanted to get Piccolo into the ring for far too long now, and here they were, skin raking against skin. Bruising each other with tender mercies. But! He had to listen to his little brother rooting for the other team. Not that he himself hadn't been on Piccolo's side up until that point, but this was different. This was the championship match! Goten was -supposed- to be cheering for -him-! Where was his father, harping on the value of family loyalty? Family loyalty, which was the only thing of value.

The taller male forced himself not to grin at Goten's vocal encouragement. He was both proud and pleased that the youngest demi-saiyajin was able to support him rather than his brother. But why? He'd have to ask the young prince himself after the match... if he got the chance. Piccolo smirked as he watched Gohan's concentration and composure fluctuate. "He knows," sounded the green warrior in his deadliest voice. "He knows you're going to lose."

"I don't lose!" shouted Gohan back. "He knows nothing!"

"Listen to him," Piccolo continued. He knew how Gohan had wanted him, lusted after him. It was no secret, after all. The elder of the princes was rather crudely blatant about it. Which just gave fuel for Piccolo to use against the demi-saiyajin, gave him ammunition to cause Gohan to lose control of his reasoning. "Calling out my name over and over. I think I like that. Sounds... nice... coming from -him-."

"You shut your mouth!" the demi-saiyajin retorted. "You're -mine-!"

The spectators on the ground gasped in unison as above them, where Prince Gohan had been, a new sun exploded. Bright, golden light, the likes of which some had never seen before. Hundreds of scouters exploded where they were, blinding some and injuring others. Lord Kakarrot beamed with pride at his elder son, knowing that his bet was as good as made. Goten gripped the railing, wondering what the future might hold, not sure if Piccolo were -that- strong, but hoping nonetheless. The only ones to remain unaffected were the two humans, Krillin and Yamcha, and Piccolo.

"Oh, shit," chuckled Krillin, amused. "-Now- we'll see a real fight."

"This oughta be pretty good," agreed Yamcha, a smug grin stretched across his face. "Piccolo's still gonna win though."

"Oh, yeah, no doubt," the bald human nodded. "No doubt."

Piccolo grinned at the glowing youth before him, not the least bit intimidated. He'd seen better, after all. "Done?"

"Not by a long shot," Gohan snarled, knowing he was about to win. Enjoying the feel. He didn't like attaining this altered form, as it required a lot of concentration and power. But it was a great way to show off.

"Bring it on," Piccolo said, crooking two fingers to beckon the prince on.

With a roar, Gohan charged forward, pulling his fist back for one almighty punch. He thought that Piccolo understood. No one won the tournaments except him, except Prince Gohan, the Golden Prince. No one was supposed to be stronger than him! No one! But Piccolo wasn't playing by the rules that Gohan knew, and the younger male found the wind knocked out of him by a series of rapid uppercuts that pounded into his abdomen from green fists that flew faster than even his teal eyes could see. Gohan flew backwards, trying to recoup.

Even as the prince moved away, Piccolo charged forward, aiming to land behind the half-breed. Easier than he thought was right, Piccolo managed to introduce the ball of his foot with the base of Gohan's spine, just above the up-curled tail. The prince flew forward through the air, disoriented and in pain, but was intelligent enough to use the momentum to his advantage, which was some relief to the Demon Lord.

Piccolo didn't want to fight a stupid opponent. He was rather tired of them.

Grinning a bloody smile, Gohan turned in the air, mindful that pain was just an extent of pleasure. He flew back to Piccolo, intent on making the other male suffer as he did. Suffer as much as he had. He allowed his anger, his flat out rage, to increase his speed and power, trading blows with the surprisingly powerful opponent. He had known Piccolo was strong, he just never thought that the green male was -that- strong. Strong enough to take a super-saiyajin punch to the midsection with no more than a grunt of pain. Teal eyes narrowed in vexation, but the prince managed to see a slight opening.

Slipping past Piccolo, the prince managed to entrap the green man's arms at his side as he embraced him from behind. Leaning his head up, nuzzling the white cape, Gohan simultaneously grabbed at Piccolo's sex. "You know, I can't wait until you're laying on the ground under me, broken and begging. I can't wait to hear you calling out my name, worshipping me like all the others do. And don't think you won't. Like you said, there's a first time for everything. And for this, there's going to be more than a simple first time. There's going to be lots of times."

In the royal box, Goten saw the maneuver, though he was unable to hear what was being said. He glared at what his brother was doing, irate that he would -dare- touch Piccolo in such a vulgar manner in public. "OH, COME ON!"

"Something wrong, Goten?" Lord Kakrrot asked with a devilish smile, enjoying at least one of his sons taking advantage of the situation.

"Yeah! Gohan's practically screwing Piccolo!" Goten cried out, not really paying attention to who he was complaining to.

"What's the matter? Jealous?" the full-blooded saiyajin asked with amusement. He'd never seen Goten get so riled up at a tournament match. In fact, the only thing that ever incensed his younger son so much was the perpetual argument on his lack of mating habits. Lord Kakarrot started to reconsider his plans for after Gohan won this tournament. Perhaps he -should- make Goten sleep with the green male, with Gohan as supervisor. He knew that his youngest son and the green man had been talking at the party together... but perhaps they had become friends, not that Lord Kakarrot would have known. Friends were good to have. Especially loyal friends. Loyal like his friends, 17 and 18, were.

Goten flushed crimson, as he turned to his father, his eyes as large as planets. Lord Kakarrot looked at his son's expression and began to laugh, a full, deep-throated laugh that came all the way from his warrior's soul. He thought that the look on Goten's face was one of horror, not realizing it was one of embarrassment and guilt.

"Father," Goten began, his voice thick. He coughed and began again, the dark red stain on his features leaching away. "Do you seriously think that it's... decent... or proper for Gohan to be out there, fucking his opponents on stage, and presenting himself as nothing more than a floor show of utmost... PERVERSION to our followers? While I don't really -care- what he does with his personal life in private, I -REFUSE- to allow him to make a mockery of -ALL- of us by traipsing around in public as some kind of tricked out whore!"

"Heh," Lord Kakarrot said, the laughter finally dying down some. He indicated the somewhat forgotten fight. "It seems that your champion agrees with you."

Piccolo gritted his teeth in aggravation, unpleasantly feeling more of the prince than he cared to feel pressing against his back. Whereas both he and Goten had become aroused during their match, he felt no such reaction towards the older prince, and certainly thought Gohan shouldn't be getting off on this. That match was different. This was... 'Disgusting,' Piccolo spat in his mind. With a loud war cry, he broke out of Gohan's embrace, spinning away from the prince. When he was a fair distance away, he tossed off his cape and turban.

"Oh, see, now you're beginning to understand," Gohan grinned. "Why not go ahead and remove the rest of it, too."

"About the only thing else I'm going to remove," Piccolo replied, "is that arrogant smirk off your face."

Now that he was free of his weighted outfit, Piccolo was able to access more power and speed. Gohan's eyes widened in surprise at the ferocity with which Piccolo faced him. Despite the fact that he was being driven backwards as he attempted to block each attack, the prince fought to keep that air of superiority in his voice as he said, "You know, I will still win this."

Piccolo scoffed, increasing the intensity of his assault. "You think you can take me, huh? Well, come on, then. Kick my ass."

"Oh, I'll take you here," grinned the demi-saiyajin. "But you can take -me- after I win the tournament."

"Keep dreaming," the green male smirked back. "I have better things to do than you."

Gohan shook his head, his grin never faltering. He knew the Demon Lord was only trying to piss him off. 'He doesn't mean all of that crap,' the prince thought. 'He just wants a more brutal fight. Gods, that's hot. When this is over... Ohhh, he's gonna be -so- -good-.' His tongue flicked out over his lips. "Believe me. You won't find anyone -better- anywhere."

"I don't know," Piccolo spoke quietly, breaking off the offense and floating back from Gohan, just far enough away to where the younger man could still hear him but not reach him. He'd found only one weak spot in the prince's seemingly unflappable ego, but he didn't want to push things too far. As long as Goten remained unharmed, this taunting would be all right. Besides, he didn't really think Gohan took what he said all that seriously. Tossing a glance in Goten's general direction, Piccolo continued, "Hear that? I just love the way he screams my name."

"Shut up!" The prince glowered then, his golden aura flaring around him. He knew Piccolo was just provoking him; that -had- to be what it was. That was the only way it -could- be. If only Goten would stop cheering for the strange warrior, then Gohan wouldn't have to contend with both his cheers and Piccolo's jeers. Whatever the green man had said was enough to get Gohan's blood boiling. 'I'll give him the fight of his life!' Howling his anger into the air, Gohan charged Piccolo, moving faster than he had before.

Piccolo laughed as he danced just out of reach of the prince's attacks, mocking him with each dodge that was faster than the royal could see. Faster than the younger man could imagine. Gohan pulled back for a moment, trying to regroup his thoughts. He let out a primal scream as he lashed out with all his frustrated energy. After his momentary temper tantrum, he returned to the fight, glaring with anticipation at the enticing quarry that remained elusive to his touch. "Stop this teasing and fight me!"

"You want it?" Piccolo asked, moving. "You got it."

Gohan never saw the Demon Lord's attack. Appearing behind the tailed warrior, Piccolo smashed his doubled fist into the dark-haired male's face, knocking him aside. Before the stars cleared from his dark eyes, though, Gohan felt another bone-crushing blow land. Screaming out in pain, the prince felt his tail being snapped twice, once at the tip the second in the middle. Spinning as best he could to retaliate, Gohan was unprepared for the foot that connected with his face. There was the unmistakable sound of bone crunching, and the prince was rather sure that his jaw was thrown out of joint. And then darkness enveloped him. Which, being unconscious, saved him from feeling the impact of his body hitting the tiles of the arena floor hard enough not only to cause a crater, but to force the exotic stone to react to the occasion as if it were water, splashing outward from a heavy stone.

The crowd was beside themselves with shock. This was... amazing. Prince Gohan, the royal heir, the Golden Prince, had been bested at the Royal Tournament by a mystery fighter. Even as the silence droned on for what seemed like a mini-eternity, a few began to clap. Krillin and Yamcha couldn't help their smug expressions, as if -they- were responsible for the prince's beating. Quickly, the applause was taken up by the rest of the stadium.

Piccolo floated to the ground, his eyes on the royal box. Even as his overly sensitive ears picked up the sounds of thousand upon thousands of voices screaming his name, whistling shrilly, or simply calling out their own congratulations, Piccolo remained impassive. For him, the next moments were crucial. It was time to see how the royals would react to this turn of events.

Lord Kakarrot stood at the edge of the royal box against the railing, a mix of emotions barreling through him. On one hand, he'd never seen such a spectacular fight in all his years of holding the tournament. However, had it come at the expense of his elder son's life? He turned to speak with Goten, but the young prince was not next to him. A quick movement down on the arena floor caught his eye. Goten had gone to the platform.

The youngest demi-saiyajin hopped onto what remained of the platform and kneeled down next to his brother's unmoving form. Checking for vitals, his eyes shut, and he heaved a deep sigh of relief. "Medics!" he yelled.

Practically before he'd finished uttering the second syllable, the medical team rushed out and assumed control of the situation. The prince stepped back to allow them the room to maneuver and admired their efficiency. As soon as they'd departed the platform and were well on their way out of the arena, Goten turned around. The crowd slowly fell silent, only the light breeze causing any noise. All eyes were affixed to Prince Goten, who was slowly walking towards Piccolo across the platform. No one breathed.

Stopping a few feet from Piccolo, he bowed politely, conceding the win to the taller male. Then, he faced his father in the royal box, awaiting 'official' word. Lord Kakarrot still stood against the railing of the box, looking down at the Demon Lord and his younger son. Yes, the loyalty between his sons continued to burn brightly, even in the face of defeat. "Demon Lord Piccolo," the emperor called out. "Step forward."

Taking a deliberately slow step forward on the platform, Piccolo bowed in acknowledgement. He knew he could fight his way out if the saiyajin decided he'd gone too far injuring Prince Gohan. But he wasn't stupid. That would only be the absolutely last resort. The last option if every other option had been tried... and failed.

Lord Kakarrot weighed his own options very carefully. He wasn't a sore loser, no matter what he'd really lost in the outcome. Certain things needed to be addressed regarding the 'guests', but that would come later. Later, when he could convene with Prince Goten to decide what exactly should be done about the green man and the two humans. He had something in mind, something particular, something that would be... entertaining to probably only himself. But that would come later. Right then, he needed to declare the outcome of the tournament. Raising his arm out on either side of his body, he announced, "To Demon Lord Piccolo, the tournament champion!"

The enthusiastic response of the masses nearly deafened Piccolo.

***

Having kicked out all the personnel and patients, only Lord Kakarrot and Prince Goten remained in the medical lab with Prince Gohan. Goten stood next to the rejuvenation chamber, which held his recovering brother. Thirty-six hours, the medical team had said. Thirty-six! Neither of the princes had -ever- had to spend more than a day in a tank. And that was only once.

He placed a hand on the clear glass to the tank, peering inside. Gohan looked so... young, floating in there. Younger than he did, in fact. Helpless. Making a mental note, Goten knew he would have to post guards outside the chamber, even if his father didn't think to mention it. He grinned slightly, letting his hand drop away. There was no real need to worry, he knew, but just to be safe...

His eyes fixed on his father, who was pacing back and forth across the empty room. "Would you please sit down, father. You're making me dizzy."

"Oh, fine." The emperor unceremoniously planted his rear on a metal table across from his sons. He preferred to be active while he thought. It made his head clearer. He looked at the foggy print on the tank's window, realizing that he hadn't been paying very much attention to the world around him as he muddled through his worries. He would have to become a bit more aware if he wished to remain alive now that there was a real threat around. Swinging his feet back and forth slightly, he addressed his conscious offspring. "We need to discuss what to do about the green man and his two humans."

"What do you mean? What needs to be done?" the prince asked. He folded his arms across his chest as his tail rewrapped around his torso. He frowned slightly, tilting his head to the side. As far as he knew, none of the three were a threat. Well, Piccolo was a threat to his sanity and his chastity, but those were two things he wouldn't mind parting with permanently if it meant he'd get to keep Piccolo for eternity.

"It's quite clear that the Demon Lord is very strong," began the tall saiyajin. His tail snapped through the air as he spoke, showing how he hated finding out that he had been acting foolish. It was degrading. "We have underestimated him thus far, and I do not intend to persist in doing so. Jeice was right in bringing them to the palace when he did."

"Yes," Goten agreed. He tilted his head to the side as he noticed a slight grin on his father's face. It was one that said he had just found a way out of something unpleasant. "Father?"

"Jeice shall be made Captain. Tonight," the emperor said with a wicked smile. "And in the morning, he and Burter shall be shipped off to purge a planet that's been causing me problems. The mongrels there thought to not pay their taxes twice. They shall become an example to the rest of the galaxy."

"As you say, so shall it be done," Goten said with a slight bow. Rising upward, he looked at his father, not bothering to go to his task. He had to know if his father was going to be true to his word, and now was as good an opportunity as any. "But that reminds me. Now that I am free of YOUR desire to find a bedmate, are you going to be marrying off Gohan as you've been threatening to do? You so do want heirs."

"I believe I shall have to look into it. I want this empire strong, Goten. It's something I've created, and I'll be damned if you two are going to ruin it by siring nothing at all. You fuck nothing, which produces no heirs, and Gohan fucks anything and -still- produces no heirs. I want heirs! Only my heirs can keep the empire solid. It's strong as it is, but that's only because I am strong." Lord Kakarrot sighed. He grunted as he crossed his arms over his chest. They were getting into a subject he had been thinking on since the tournament ended. "In order for the empire to remain strong, we should protect it. Protect it -- and ourselves -- against these strangers. I want the guards back on duty for our 'guests'. You'll need to find a replacement for Vegeta. Physically, he's in no condition to guard anyone."

"Won't work," Goten replied bluntly.

"Why not?"

"Tried it. Didn't take. Ginyu died."

"Oh, yeah. Huh." Lord Kakarrot contemplated his options for a moment. He scratched a hand through his scalp before giving a gusty sigh. "All right. Just put 17, 18, and Vegeta back on duty. First thing in the morning. And give them explicit instructions to keep the guests as preoccupied and -separate- as possible. We'll try to keep them from seeing each other too often, but inconspicuously, of course."

"Of course," Goten nodded, his features blanking so as not to give away any of his inner thoughts. It was his job to obey, whether he agreed or not. Whether he liked it or not.

"And one more thing," continued the saiyajin emperor with a sly smile. "Since Demon Lord Piccolo so graciously refused the prize money, we should give him an alternate reward."

"Did you have something particular in mind?" the young prince inquired as he watched his father cross the room to a universal communications panel. He knew that his father had -something- in mind already, otherwise he wouldn't have mentioned it. He also knew he had to be cautious with his reactions. Something was up, and Goten knew enough to be worried that he didn't know what it was.

Pressing a few buttons, Lord Kakarrot brought up the palace schematics on the broad screen, focusing in on the east wing, which was mostly housing. "We'll give him and the humans new rooms. Suites," announced the royal. Sliding a finger along one hallway, he stopped at one end. "We'll put the little one and 18 on Level 4, Suite A."

"That's not a very high level," remarked Goten. His brow knit slightly. Not that Level 4 suites weren't very nice, they were. There were not listening devices in there, as they were strictly given as gifts to completely trustworthy guests, or guests that no one worried about for various reasons. But if his father was intending to give them all better rooms... Piccolo earned more than a Level 4 room.

"We've seen no example of his power. Plus, he's small. How dangerous can he be? Level 4 will do for him." Staring at the layout, the royal went on. "The scarred one and Vegeta... Level 7... Suite H."

"That's on the completely opposite end of the wing," the prince noted, his voice neutral.

"Your -point-?"

The demi-saiyajin's eyebrows arched high. "Do you mean to split them up physically as well?"

"Divide and conquer, my son. It will be much easier to watch them and keep them separated if they have no real excuses to see one another." Lord Kakarrot knew his subsequent move had to be executed in a certain way. This idea had come to him earlier in the day, just after he'd pronounced Piccolo the tournament champion. A small smile threatened to break out onto his face. He had so many reasons for his next action. So, so many delicious reasons. None of which he was going to give away now. "And what to do with the Demon Lord," he mumbled aloud, convincingly. He pretended to be searching for a proper suite, when in reality, he was only wasting time with his façade. Skimming his fingertips across the screen, they finally landed on a single large room. "Here. Level 10, Suite B."

"Level 10?" Goten asked. Feigning shock and indignation, he masked his enthusiasm with a scowl and an irate voice. "But that's -my- level!"

"Is it?" queried his father. Precisely the reaction for which he'd been hoping. Piccolo's presence so near to Goten would irritate both brothers. Goten, because he didn't want to share space of any kind with anyone, let alone the Demon Lord, and Gohan, because he didn't want to share the Demon Lord. There were other reasons; he most certainly had other reasons. But anything to rouse the ire of his sons, especially if it could somehow be redirected towards the other, was exactly what Lord Kakarrot wanted. "Well, the schematics show two suites on that floor. They're at opposite ends of the hallway. Does it bother you so much?"

"It's -my- level," Goten reiterated. He ran through several scenarios in his head, trying to figure out what his father's angle was. None that he came up with sounded right, though. He was left confused and suspicious, and trying to hold off the inner glee he felt that Piccolo was going to be within easy reach.

"Goten, you are a prince and the Royal Inquisitor," Lord Kakarrot pointed out. "Who better to keep an eye on the mysterious Demon Lord than you?"

"I have never had to share my level with any other being for as long as I've existed," pouted the young man, hoping he wasn't taking things too far, "and I don't want to, either. I don't like this."

"Stop acting like a five-year-old. It doesn't become you," Kakarrot scolded. It was rather sad that his youngest son, the one that terrified more of the court that even -HE- did, was so private. So suppressed. So... afraid. He remembered seeing his son soon after he emerged from the last torturer's tender mercies, and he had taken note that there wasn't a single scar on his young body. But Goten had informed him then that it was a mark of a true master that no victim carries any signs of their ordeal. But after that day, his youngest son never went out without being fully clothed, as if to hide scars that only he could see. Why he wanted to hide them, Kakarrot had no clue, but he did. And it was just one more sign of weakness in his opinion.

"But--" Goten attempted to protest.

"But nothing. Have the rooms readied. Inform the guards," the emperor grounded out. He loved the plan he was setting into motion, but Goten's complaints were getting old fast. "You know what to do. Make it happen. Now, go."

After looking inside the tank one final time, Goten left the room to follow his orders. First, he would contact Jeice and give him his promotion. Then he'd see about the rooms. After that came the fun part... hunting down the guards. Once the med center's doors closed behind him, Goten gave a fleeting thought to the fact that -someone- would also have to tell Piccolo that he and his group were being moved. With a grin, he thought, 'Well, it might as well be me...'