Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Potential ❯ Beautiful Stranger ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

 

Potential

 

Her heart was pounding so loudly, she was certain that everyone could hear it.

 

The Saiyans had all but wiped her precious village off the face of the planet, leaving only the women and children to grieve over the loss of their home and husbands, sons, fathers and brothers.

 

Bulma would not let them or their leader have the satisfaction of seeing her fear.

 

That didn't mean that she wasn't afraid. She was petrified.

 

But she would not show it.

 

Bulma stood there, bravely facing the line of men who had ravaged her town, and torn her old way of life to pieces. Her chin high and chest out, she knew that resistance was useless. She was going to have to use that brain of hers to get out of this one.

 

“Lord Frieza, what would you have us do with the women and children?” Nappa asked his lizard-like leader.

 

Frieza stepped forward to inspect the line of women that stood before of him, unimpressed by what stood before him. He had done this many times, and this one was no different.

 

He held out his finger to point at four women to his left, hearing loud gasps as he did so. This made him smirk wickedly. If there was one thing that Frieza enjoyed, it was fear.

 

“Those four, put them into my private chambers,” he hissed.

 

Two of the women fainted; for it was obvious what he wanted them for.

 

He looked everyone over again, not noticing anything spectacular until his eyes came upon a bright vision of blue. Frieza blinked twice to make sure that he wasn't seeing things before he finally realized that it was no illusion, but a woman!

 

Frieza stepped forward to inspect her, and was instantly awed. She had to be the most exotic looking woman he seen in all of his years.

 

Bulma didn't flinch as the lizard man leaned towards her to get a good look at her. His breath was terrible, and for a brief moment, she was afraid she had been found out, or worse.

 

Frieza was tempted to add her to the list of women he wanted in his private chambers, but then he remembered a certain nephew of his that he had promised to split the spoils of battle with.

 

Frieza felt a certain sickness in the pit of his stomach at the thought of his nephew. He knew that there would have been no victory without him, but that made him even more uncomfortable. He detested his nephew. The only reason Frieza had asked him to go into battle with him was because he knew that he could not defeat Briefs without him, and secondly, because his nephew was the best leader and fighter he had ever seen.

 

Vegeta.

 

His name made Frieza sick. Frieza knew that one day Vegeta would try to overthrow him, but the fact that he would have to share the lands with him made him nauseous.

 

Maybe if he gave him an offering, Vegeta would allow Frieza to retain the title of victory. Frieza would then be able to attack the lands without his nephew barking at his every step.

 

A wicked smile crossed Frieza's face as a plan formed in his head. This blue-haired beauty could be his ace up his sleeve. Instead of worrying about Vegeta stealing the loyalty of his troops and conquering the lands, he would be given a present he couldn't refuse.

 

A wedding day present.

 

Frieza could hardly wait to see his plan go into action.

 

However, first things first.

 

“Listen up my precious prisoners!” Frieza called gathering the grief-stricken crowd's attention.

 

“From now on, you belong to me. Every one of you shall do as asked, of my men will kill you. No excuses.”

 

The crowd gasped aloud as they took in their new master's words.

 

“This, my loyal servants, does not mean that I am not going to take care of you. You will work as you did before, and you may stay in your living quarters-oh. I burned those down didn't I?” he chuckled evilly.

 

“You may rebuild then. You will be as before, except that now, 75% of your harvest belongs to me. Understood?”

 

One old man, one of the few allowed to live, stepped forward in protest.

 

“We cannot survive on that little food! We cannot do this!” he shouted.

 

Before he could breathe at the end of his sentence, Frieza had thrown a knife into the old man's heart. Bulma screamed as she watched her father crumble to the ground, dead.

 

“Did I not say that there will be no excuses? Consider yourselves lucky. For everyone that tries to escape, ten will be killed in their place. Understood?” Frieza snarled.

 

The survivors nodded their heads quietly. The only sound was that of Bulma sobbing over the body of her dead father, the last survivor of her family.

 

“Now all of you report to your new captains, and you will do what he says.”

 

As the crowd started walking towards the fields where they would work, Bulma tried to pick up her father to bring him with her.

 

“You there,” Frieza pointed to Bulma.

 

Bulma stopped and turned towards the evil looking fiend.

 

“You will come with me. I have a special plan for you…”

 

Bulma could only cry out in protest as one of Frieza's men picked her up and brought her along to the castle.

 

I I I I I I I I

 

 

The Saiyan warrior looked into the bottom of his empty goblet, catching a wobbly glimpse of his own reflection.

 

It had been a long time since Vegeta had sat back to enjoy the spoils of war, but for some reason, this time he did not feel right. His men sat around him, toasting wildly to everything from Vegeta to the dead animals that they were feasting upon. Vegeta did not mind, however. His men had fought hard to earn their victory, and deserved their feast. Though they did sometimes get out of hand, occasionally breaking out into squabbles between themselves, or even grabbing a serving girl and whisking her away to their rooms, he didn't care. Vegeta had no intentions to dampen their fun.

 

Still, the visions of women screaming for their children and husbands had managed to haunt him. He was a man of Saiyan honor, and Prince of the realm, no less. He would never use his strength on someone weaker than himself; especially women and children.

 

His uncle, however, was another matter.

 

While Vegeta had agreed to help Frieza storm the castle, he had never thought that Frieza would allow him men to do such atrocities. Vegeta had nearly beaten one of Frieza's men to death when he saw him trying to force himself upon a woman. It sickened him to think of it. Those men had no honor.

 

Despite all the bloodshed, Frieza had succeeded in all but one thing, capturing the Lord of the manor, Briefs, and one of his children, a daughter.

 

Vegeta laughed to himself at the reaction his uncle had when he learned they had slipped through his grasp. Soon, Vegeta would take over Frieza's army and teach them some respect. Then all the lands would be his to rule. But first he had to get rid of his disgraceful uncle.

 

His thoughts were interrupted by the voice of one of his men.

 

“Sire,” Nappa kneeled.

 

Vegeta leaned forward to speak.

 

“What is it my uncle needs now Nappa?”

 

“He has sent me to tell you that he has a gift for you.”

 

Vegeta smirked. Frieza was never one to share his spoils, so obviously there was a reason behind this.

 

“Tell me, old friend, what is this gift you speak of?” Vegeta mocked, obviously unenthusiastic about the whole ordeal.

 

Nappa smiled broadly. He knew that his leader, though the best fighter he had ever known, was also a very lonely one. He knew this gift would at least give Vegeta some sport, if nothing else.

 

“I think what you mean to ask, sire, is who.”

 

Vegeta stood up, obviously intrigued by this new treasure.

 

“Well, by all means Nappa, introduce me to this guest.”

 

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Bulma sat dejectedly in the tub that had been set out for her. Though she was in the comfort of the castle walls, she no longer knew whose. Rumor had it that Frieza was going to hand the lands over to his nephew, who was probably as evil and ruthless as himself.

 

Bulma threw her fists in the water, causing an angry splash. If only she had some courage, she could have at least done something to save her father. She wept bitter tears at the thought of his demise.

 

Damn that Frieza! He and his wretched army are the reason for my people's suffering! My father was always so kind to everyone, including our serfs, and he just decides to storm our manor?!

 

Bulma snapped back to reality when she heard shuffling outside of the door.

 

Realizing that the guards could come in at any minute, she wiped away her tears and started to wash herself. Her long cobalt blue hair hung loosely over the side of the tub, changing colors with the flickering of the candle light. She scrubbed herself mercilessly with the cloth, as though she could wash the filth of the previous days off of her.

 

Once again her tears started to fall. Her father…he had told her to hide amongst the serfs with him when he realized all was lost. If Frieza had found out that she was indeed the princess of the land he had been searching for, he would probably marry her himself to ensure obedience from all around. But now her father was gone, and eventually Frieza would figure out who she was. No, she would continue her ruse as long as possible.

 

If it meant death, so be it. At least she would be free from Frieza.

 

Bulma quickly got out and dressed into the clothing Frieza's men had laid out for her. It struck her as odd that they would dress her in such a formal outfit. It was a peach colored gown, obviously one from their raids on the land, and it looked too beautiful for her to wear for a prison sentence from Frieza. Perhaps he had other plans for her.

 

She would not allow herself to be one of his female slaves, no matter how much he tortured her. She shuddered to think of either fate. Frieza looked like a lizard, and she imagined he acted as such in private as well.

 

A loveless life.

 

Her father had always told her he would allow her to marry for love as he had done with her mother, but now it seemed that dream was done. Bulma was getting too old to be unwed, and people had whispered about it for ages. Men had come from all over to try to court her, but she had said no to all of them. Now the age of nineteen, and as beautiful as ever, it seemed as waste that her fate would turn against her.

 

That's why she had a knife hidden under her tunic.

 

If her fate was to marry Frieza on that night, she would not allow him to touch a hair on her body. He would die for his evil deeds.

 

A guard pounded on the door and burst in; fortunately right after Bulma had managed to hide the knife.

 

He and another man bound her arms with rope and dragged her out to the court. The one man, obviously one of Frieza's licked his lips as he looked over the woman.

 

The other man, who was not as rough with her, kicked the other warrior with his boot.

 

“Vegeta will kill you if he sees you looking at his gift like that,” said the Saiyan.

 

Gift? Bulma thought. So I am to marry tonight. Not Frieza, but someone just as bad, his nephew Vegeta. He's probably as lizard like as his uncle too!

 

Bulma knew that things were about to get ugly.

 

“Get off me you fiends! Let go!” she started yelling, kicking and screaming. She would not go down without a fight.

 

As they burst through the court doors, all the noise that had once been deafening ceased. The men looked in awe at the creature in front of them.

 

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Vegeta had just about decided to go get the gift himself when he heard it. A woman's voice.

 

“Get off me! If I were a man I'd-”

When the doors burst open he saw two men bring in a woman, but not just any woman.

 

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

 

The men shoved her on to the cold floor, arms bound. Her head was down, so the only thing he could see was a perfectly shaped woman in a peach dress, and long, long locks of deep blue hair. Her dress was ruffled and she was obviously a little banged up from being dragged. For some reason, this did not sit right with Vegeta.

 

Out of instinct, he leapt forward from his chair and grabbed the woman. When she screamed at him in protest from being so roughly handled, he pulled a knife from his belt and raised it to her arms.

 

Bulma feared this was the end and stared into the eyes of her future killer.

 

Vegeta was quite taken aback by the brave front this woman put on her face. He had never seen someone so unafraid of him.

 

In a quick movement, he sliced the dagger through her bindings and pulled her behind him to protect her.

 

“Who dares treat an unarmed woman like this?! You are not men of honor, you are men of disgrace!”

 

Vegeta leaned forward and grabbed the two culprits by the shirts towards him.

 

“Go down to the barracks and sleep in the stables for the night then,” he growled.

 

The men nodded fearfully and left before another word could be said.

 

As they disappeared through the doors, Vegeta turned to face his mysterious captive. She had her arms down at her sides and her chin tilted high, as though she had no concept of what fear was. Her long hair was flowing almost endlessly behind her, and her bright blue eyes flashed with anger. It was very obvious that this girl had just gone through some sort of trauma, and for some reason, Vegeta felt compelled to protect her.

 

“Are you all right?” he asked slowly.

 

Bulma's jaw trembled for a moment before she nodded. She was so full of emotions, she was sure that she would burst.

 

She had been expecting a gruesome looking man, but instead found the most attractive man she had ever seen. Fate was indeed cruel to tempt her like this. Every sinew and muscle on his body shone through his armor, up to his strange scowl that almost looked like a hidden smile, and his deep, dark black eyes. She was hard pressed not to run her fingers through his long black main of hair.

He is your enemy! Bulma reminded herself.

 

“What is your name, woman?” her captor asked.

 

Before Bulma could come up with a lie, Frieza interjected.

 

“Hello, nephew.”

 

“What is this all about uncle?” Vegeta asked aloud. He had grown to know his uncle quite well in the past few years, and if there was one thing he knew Frieza loved, it was a climax.

 

“My dear, Vegeta,” Frieza hissed, careful not to give away his intentions. “I see that you have found your wedding day present!”

 

Vegeta stared at his uncle, confused.

 

“What do you speak of Frieza? Wedding?”

 

Frieza smirked at his nephew. This would be too easy. He extended an arm to lead Vegeta into the throne room to speak privately. Vegeta hesitated for a minute before following.

 

“No one shall lay a finger upon this woman and live to tell about it, Saiyan or not. Understood?” Vegeta threatened.

 

The endless toasting of kings of old was his reply. The men were not fools. Not a single one could possible outmatch Vegeta, except Lord Frieza.

 

Vegeta called over his second-in-command, Radditz.

 

“See that no one breathes in her direction. I will handle Frieza,” he whispered.

 

Radditz nodded and went to the woman. Vegeta took a last glimpse at her, standing proudly before he followed Frieza into the dark throne room.

 

Once the doors were closed, Vegeta marched to his uncle in anger.

 

“How dare you make such assumptions in the presence of my men! Blood or not, you will not meddle in my affairs!” he spat.

 

Frieza took a seat upon the main chair as he poured himself some wine into his goblet. His nephew would play right into his hands.

 

“My dear nephew, I never imagined it would upset you so! I only wanted to surprise you with the most precious treasure in our lands!” he laughed.

 

Vegeta took a seat across from him. He knew Frieza was not as innocent as he tried to play it. There was obviously some motive behind this scheme…

 

“Who is she?” Vegeta inquired.

 

Frieza took a deep drink from his goblet, not caring that he spilled half of it on his armor.

 

“Just some servant girl. Quite a prize, yes?” he said, “She's barely seen nineteen summers, and is by far the most beautiful woman in the lands. But my is she a fighter! When Ginyu was drag- er leading her to her room, she grabbed the sword from his belt and stabbed him through his leg. Such spirit the woman has!”

 

Vegeta almost laughed out loud. He would have given anything to see that pampas idiot's face when she drove a blade through his leg.

 

“But why the announcement of marriage? I have made no such decision.”

 

“My dear nephew,” Frieza consoled, “on your mother's deathbed, she begged me to watch out for you, as you know.”

 

Vegeta's eyes flickered dangerously at the mention of his mother. She had died of a mystery illness eleven years ago while he was out on a charge in the west. Queen Leona was his mother, and when she died, it was in the arms of her brother, Frieza. Vegeta did not like when others, even his uncle spoke of her. She was the only good person he knew, and he still did not understand why she would leave so much of her land to her unliked brother.

 

“Watch what you say, uncle.”

 

“She also told me that she wanted grandchildren. I was ordered to help you find a mate by your twenty-fifth birthday, so that you could continue the honor of the Saiyan kingdom.”

 

Vegeta looked at his uncle puzzled. He did not understand what his uncle had to gain from this union, but he suspected Frieza's intentions were dark.

 

“Then why would you not tell me this until now?” he asked solemnly.

 

“I did not want you to worry. Besides, a marriage to a foreigner would cause a union between our lands. I know she is not a princess, nephew. But once I find that wench daughter of Briefs, I will marry her. Our land will be vast, nephew!”

 

Vegeta was starting to get an idea of where Frieza was going.

 

“No, uncle. I will marry when I am ready, and I have much to do before I find time to raise a brat,” Vegeta countered.

 

Frieza sat his drink down and stood up. Despite his power with a sword, he was not a very tall man, maybe a head shorter than Vegeta. But his anger could make him seem

much taller.

 

“I think you underestimate me, nephew. You will marry her. It is for the good of both our lands!” Frieza bellowed.

 

Vegeta nearly laughed in his face. Though he had been forced to go under his uncle's tutelage at the age of fourteen, he had never liked the man. Frieza would always send him on meaningless quests, and have him beaten until could not walk for the slightest offense. When he was eighteen, he left to fight for his people and vowed never to allow himself to be treated badly by his uncle again.

 

Now at the age of twenty-four, Vegeta was among the most feared warriors in the world, and his uncle still made him nervous.

 

“If you do not marry her, I will allow my men to do what they want with her,” Frieza snarled.

 

Vegeta had to hold himself from sticking a sword through his uncle for merely suggesting it. It irked him to no end that Frieza had no sense of chivalry when it came to women.

 

“You underestimate me, uncle. What makes you think I care about what you do to this woman?” asked Vegeta calmly.

 

Frieza chuckled evilly. “Bring the woman in here Dodoria!” he called.

 

Before Vegeta could protest, Dodoria was dragging the woman kicking and screaming into the room, laughing all the while.

 

Vegeta unsheathed his sword in anger. This was madness!

 

“Dodoria, have your men do as they see fit with our lovely little prisoner,” Frieza ordered.

 

Dodoria's eyes lit up as he pulled Bulma to her feet, eager to do something with her.

 

Bulma started screaming as Dodoria came down upon her to wrap an arm around her waist.

 

For a brief moment she looked over at Vegeta, pleading with her eyes.

 

“ENOUGH!” Vegeta bellowed.

 

“You shall have your wedding, uncle. Have everything prepared,” Vegeta said coolly.

 

He walked up to Dodoria and kicked him to the ground, wrapping his arm around Bulma's waist.

 

“Never touch what is mine.”

 

He held a protective grip on the girl as he led her out the door. There would indeed be a wedding this day.

 

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So! Did you guys like it?! Sorry about the grammar, I'm too lazy to get detailed today. PLEASE email me! Your input makes this a lot more fun and a lot quicker with the chapters! EMAIL POST REVIEW EMAIL POST REVIEW

 

Much love

 

Sophie Bloom