Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Princess WHO of WHERE?!? ❯ Riches to Rags? ( Chapter 8 )

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ

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Vegeta watched for a moment, rubbing his sore jaw, as the guards dragged the girl away. He wasn't at all mad. As a matter of fact, he was pleased. This one was obviously no milksop maid. This was a true spitfire! He debated whether or not to allow the guards to punish her because that was undoubtedly what they were about to do. Attacking nobility would of course merit punishment, but since a physical attack was what he had sought from her, there was not any real need to discourage her from trying to do so again.

And she was giving them a hell of a fight as they pulled from the dining room. He waited until they had left before turning back to his father.

"I apologize for that inappropriate scene, Father. I will have her beaten for showing me disrespect." His father nodded his ascent and Vegeta turned to leave.

Beating her, however, was the furthest thing from his mind.

He knew the guards would be taking her down to the dungeons, so he decided to let her cool her heels down there while he went to bathe himself clean of today's `exertions'. His apartment was in the northwest tower of the fortress, so instead taking the long, twisting walk there, he found the nearest window and flew there.

His balcony doors were already open to let the breezes of today's fine weather blow in. He landed on the balcony and returned to his human form. He strode through the doors removing clothing as he went. He rang for his servants to ready him a hot bath. Two men brought in a huge, wooden tub while three others followed behind with steaming, hot buckets of hot water. They continued bringing in water until the tub was full. He removed his pants after they all left and stepped into the tub. He lowered himself into the water gently in order to slowly accustom himself to the intense heat of it. He lay back letting the hot water relax his muscles.

His thoughts immediately went to the girl in the dungeons below. He wondered where his Father's men had found her. Although, a Kylarian's coat came in many different colors, hers was even more unusual than most. There was something in the back of his mind nagging him that he had seen it once before, but he couldn't remember where. He also realized that he didn't even know her name. Then there was the problem that he had been baiting and insulting her since their initial acquaintance. Well, no matter. He'd get past it and soon have her in his bed.

He didn't know why he was this female all of a sudden. After abstaining from his father's women for so long, here he was going out of his way to take one of them, but like he had already determined, she was different from the rest and worth the effort. None of the other women would have even raised their voice to him, much less strike him, but here was one that would did both. This one was definitely worth keeping if only as a breath of fresh air.

His first act to get her into his good graces would be to get her out of the dungeon.

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Bulma stalked back and forth in her cell contemplating murder. She couldn't' believe he humiliated her like that.

`That's okay, though,' she thought to herself, grinning while she rubbed the knuckles on her right hand, `at least I got some small satisfaction.'

She continued pacing wondering what was going to happen. She had gotten the impression that she was going to be beaten or whipped or something. Other than being man handled on the way down, shoved in this cell, and left to wait over four hours, no moves to inflict anything more untoward wasn't even suggested.

She knew the guard outside the door hadn't moved because she could still smell him and the small sound of him shifting from one foot to the other came to her ears every few moments. She gave up pacing and sat with her back to the wall so she could watch the door. She looked up to the cell's small window near the ceiling. It had iron bars across it placed closely together, so squeezing between them was out of the question. If she had still been able to change form, she would have been long gone. At that point she recalled that damn collar and began trying to remove it even though she had already learned it was useless to try. She had taken the time to study it a little more with her hands being that she couldn't see it. She had already known from before that it was studded with jewels, but after feeling it further, she noticed the band had designs in it, which she found to be unusual.

`If this is meant to do nothing more than keep a Kylarian from changing, then why go through the effort of making it pretty? What she also found to be odd was that it was seamless. No clasp, no hinge, nothing. So how did the damn thing come off?

Full night had already descended, as a matter of fact, Bulma was sure that more than half the night had gone by. She still wasn't the least bit tired as she often went two or three days at a time without sleep. She started to think about her home and family. About Goku and whether he even noticed she was gone. Would she ever see him or her mom and dad or anyone else again?

She leaned back as scenario after scenario went through her mind about what was going to happen to her. She was praying that she wouldn't die and that she'd be able to escape. Now would've been the best time to go in the full cover of darkness, but then again, if her stealth skills had been a little better she wouldn't be in this situation in the first place.

`Damn Lord Vegeta! Both of them!'

Suddenly a key grated in the lock and Bulma jumped to up, ready for anything. The door swung open and the bright light from the torches in the hall flooded in and behind the light entered the less statuesque Vegeta. Bulma noticed that he was cleaner and neater than he was before, he was more like the second time she had met him.

For the first time, she scented him and it was not only pleasant, it was mildly attractive. She blew the scent out her nose and shook her head to clear it. There wasn't anything she would ever like about him!

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Vegeta saw her already on her feet, poised to strike even though she had yet to do so. He assumed she was waiting form him to make the first move, but since he had no intention of engaging her in a physical battle, she was prepared for nothing. Now a mental battle, for that he was prepared. He hadn't been able to even attempt sleep before he was able to come up with a `suitable punishment'.

"Good you're awake. I've come here with a decision regarding your irreprehensible behavior." He then paused, though whether for effect or response, Bulma didn't know. "I've decided that you shall become my personal servant."

"What?!?!" Bulma yelled with a completely shocked expression. Her mouth hung open dumbfounded not at all expecting this.

"I said, you will be my personal servant. Since you were obviously not trained to respect your betters, you will learn humility and deference to all in a position of authority. You will stay at my side at all times. You will do whatever I do without complaint."

"B-b-but what kind of punishment is this? I've no desire to spend all of my waking hours near you!"

"I didn't ask you. Now here is your new clothing. I can't have you walking around her wearing nothing. It will cause chaos among the guard."

The guard that had followed behind Vegeta into the cell then handed him a brown bundle, which he then handed to Bulma. She shook it out and held it in front of her. A second piece fell from the main bundle to the floor, but what Bulma held in front of her was a plain shirt. It had probably come from some local peasant, but Bulma almost cried in relief. She wanted to tear the wispy, little outfit that she had previously provided with off and put the nice, plain, CONCEALING clothing on. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all. As long as she didn't have to sleep with him, she could deal with the situation for the time being.

She held the shirt in front of her face, so Vegeta had no clue of her reaction. He was waiting for her to stomp around and shriek that she wasn't going to wear such common clothing.

Boy, was he wrong.

"If you'll leave, I'll change now."

It took every ounce of will not to show the shock on his face. He turned and left the cell quickly, the guard following behind and closing the door. 'Women,' he thought as if that summed it all up. One minute they were raging and the next they were the model of bovine docility.

A full minute had barely passed before she called out, "I'm ready," and Vegeta re-entered the cell. He motioned for the guard to remain outside and close the door, as he wanted to speak to her with some privacy. She stood in the same place he had left her, but in her new clothing, hands clasped in front of her. She had tied her hair back, which gave him full view of her face, neck, and some of her upper body curvature that the cascading blue locks had concealed earlier. She made even the plain brown shirt and trews look good. Her newfound good behavior was unexpected and made him a little wary.

"Why are you suddenly so accepting of your position now? The woman at dinner would have gladly carved my heart out with a dull ax rather than become my servant."

She studied him while thinking of a suitable answer. His sharp features went rather well with his upright hair and his muscles fairly bulged to get free of their cloth confines.

"I would rather be a servant than a whore," she stated simply.

"Ah, but I have yet to outline your duties," he smirked mischievously.

"I'm sure that if you wanted to sleep with me, you would have done so without an elaborate production. You strike me as a simple and straightforward man. More the type to just take what he wanted without any beating around the bush."

He continued to smirk at her unusually correct assessment of his personality. While that may be how he usually went about things, her mere appearance had completely changed his normal habits.

"You're quite correct. I want to make this clear now, though. I have no intention of harming you. If anything happens to you, you have brought it upon yourself. I've already told you that you will follow my orders without question. If you should ever dare to question me, there shall be consequences."

"I can follow orders as long as they aren't unreasonable."

"You will follow them whether they are unreasonable or not! It's not as if I'll tell you to jump from the battlements." He then heard some scuttling in a dark corner in the cell. He knew without looking that it was a rat. His father left them down there on purpose, to intimidate prisoners. His son thought it was a ridiculous idea. If anything they provided the desperate with a meal. "Come, I don't wish to be down here any longer."

"You're not the only one," Bulma agreed.

Vegeta tapped at the door and the guard quickly opened. He left the cell with Bulma following closely behind. She tried to catch up and walk beside him as he led her out of the dungeon. He put out an arm to keep her from drawing even with him.

"What are you doing?," she said obviously annoyed.

"Rule One: You always walk behind me. A servant does not walk next to their betters."

"You're not better than me!"

He looked at her over his shoulder, a spark of anger beginning to burn in her eyes. "In my fortress I am." He looked away from her surprised at the attraction he had for her. They climbed up the stairs that went up out of the dungeon without a word. When they reached the hall above, she again fell in step behind him. They passed windows that showed the fields, forest and the now rising sun beyond.

Bulma looked out the window longingly, wishing that she were there instead of here. If only she would have listened to her parents, none of this would ever have happened. The only positive things she could see from this was she hadn't had to sleep with anyone and she had only gotten out of that by hitting the lord's son. That had gotten her a night in the dungeon and now she was going to be that same son's servant for who knows how long. She didn't even know where she was, so how would she ever be able to find her way home?

She knew she began to lag behind, but she didn't care. She felt the tears starting to build up and felt a single one slide down her face. She had never been a weepy girl before and didn't feel that now was the time to become one. She sucked it all up and straightened herself up, wiping the single tear away. It would just take some long term planning.

Vegeta finally noticed that she wasn't behind him. He turned around to see her staring out the windows looking to the eastern side of the fortress. She looked as if she were about to cry, but held it in, which made him quite relieved. He was slightly impressed at her repression of female emotions. The last thing he wanted to deal with was a crying female.

Bulma looked ahead to see Vegeta had stopped quite a distance away his arms crossed with a not too pleased expression on his face. She ran to catch up, swearing to herself that she would make this as smooth as possible, so it wouldn't be a completely traumatizing experience.

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"You want me to do what!?!?" Bulma shrieked causing Vegeta to wince slightly.

"I said that your primary responsibility will be to any items involving my training, which includes cleaning my armor." At his feet sat a pile of said armor, blackened and battered. There was no way in the world it would ever come clean.

"Why don't you just get some new armor? There's no way I'll be able to clean that!"

"I assure you it will shine like on the day it was made, with the proper attention," he told her. He knew she wasn't lazy because she hadn't balked at a single other duty he had placed upon her. So far, the only things he had given her to oversee were his personal quarters and clothing, of the former she would clean herself and the latter she was responsible for taking them to and from the laundresses. She would also bring his meals to and from the kitchen to his rooms. Her final duty was to attend him whenever he had duties of his own.

"Please! My arm would fall off before that armor would shine! I suggest you ask someone else to do it or just get some more made because I'm not doing it," Bulma finalized by crossing her arms over her chest and looking away.

"Woman, you will do as I say or... or..." he stammered at a loss to come up with a punishment that would remove her from him.

"Or what? You'll throw me back in the dungeon? Please! I've been in worse places than that!"

"Or you will not be fed until I can see my reflection in it!"

"So what! You can try to starve me if you want to. I've survived with less and the food around here tastes like crap anyway!" She told him, not caring about his stupid additional punishment. There was no way he could follow her around all day and she was sure there was some point during the day that she would be able to sneak something, even if she had to kill it herself.

"We'll see." She was so confident in her ability to find her next meal, but little did she know all it would take is a word from him and she wouldn't find so much as one of those aforementioned rats to snack on. "Your next task for today, since you declined the first is to attend me while I train. There's not actually much to it, but if something should come up, I won't have to wait while I summon someone else to do it and then wait for their return."

She looked back in his direction, her curiosity peeked at the chance to see Kylarian fighting techniques. She learned the basics of human fighting techniques and moved on to more advanced forms at a young age. Her extreme agility and flexibility had allowed her to learn things that an ordinary human would never be able to manage. When she learned all she could, she began to develop her own fighting style being that no one could teach her how to use her shape-shifting ability to her advantage in a fight. It wasn't easy, but she had gotten to a point where not even the most skilled warriors of her village could defeat her.

Well, except for Goku. He seemed to possess an enormous amount of strength and stamina that was not common among most men. He was the only one who gave her any sort of competition.

"Let's go then!" She said excitedly.

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