Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Reflections of a King ❯ Chapter 11

Reflections of a King

Chapter 11

Two long years passed before I once again laid eyes on my Vegeta. Every month…every day…every hour….every minute…every single second resounds in my soul like a death knell. His happiness, his hopes, his dreams, his birthright, his future…all dead…and I helped to wield the blade of Fate.

After my son was taken from me by the monster Frieza, I became little more than a figurehead for the Saiyan race. I was still the Ou…but in name only. Frieza was our master…I was his puppet…my son his plaything.

Every plea that I made to the monster only served to put me, and the planet, more firmly under his control. Perhaps I could have led an uprising against him, a thought that occurred to me on more than one occasion. However, Frieza held the one being that could stay my violence. As long as Vegeta was with Frieza, I did not dare incur his wrath.

Every waking moment, my heart was filled with a pain that is even now indescribable. My grief only deepened as stories filtered back to me…stories of abuse, of neglect, of rape. My precious son…my beloved Ouji…battered…broken…beaten…a shell of his former self…his mind destroyed…damned to a life of unspeakable horror.

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I was completely shattered by the loss of my young son. I knew in my heart that I would never get him back. Even if he should be returned to me, the damage incurred during his stay with Frieza had irrevocably changed him. The child that I had loved, that I had raised from birth, that child was dead. The realization that my Vegeta was gone…and that I could do nothing to save him…it broke my spirit as nothing else could have done.

. I had been under heavy sedation in the months directly following Vegeta's kidnapping, due to my foiled attempt at suicide. The depressions I fell into would last for weeks, sometimes months, and I could not pull out of them without being medicated. In fact, I had been released from the infirmary not three days before my reunion with Vegeta.

I prayed for insanity, for oblivion, for death. I was not insane, but many times I came extremely close. I yearned for the sweet embrace of death. Suicide would be a cessation of pain. Selfish bastard. I despise myself for those old feelings…as if I deserved to be free of my suffering while my son still lived in the jaws of the beast.

My memories of that day stand out in sharp contrast to the days and months that surrounded it Frieza had commanded my presence at a gathering for my son's birthday. It was to be held on one of his ships that I now realize was the same ship on which Bardock had made his fateful confrontation with Frieza.

I was horribly ill the night before, vomiting huge gouts of blood. My nerves, already stretched to the breaking point, were on the edge. If I made one wrong step, the game would be lost. All that I loved, all that I worshipped, was wrapped up in one small boy, my Ouji. I was unsure how I would react to the sight of my child, especially if the rumors were true. To see my Vegeta in pain…I did not know if I could deal with that. If I did react, it was highly probable that neither my son nor myself would live through the night…and it was a great possibility that Vegetasei would be destroyed as well.

Morning broke, and I had not slept a whit. My advisors were in the room before I was even fully awake. They were all subdued, not wanting to upset my composure. "My Lord…something must be done…"

I had heard this same speech, from just about everyone, more times than I cared to think about. I could barely dress myself in those days, could hardly breathe the pain in my heart was so intense, and they expected me to challenge the most powerful being in the universe.

I glowered, saying, "Get the fuck out of here! I won't listen to this shit!"

"Ou…we don't wish to upset you…but this is your chance…perhaps you can convince Frieza…"

I cut him off sharply, " You know damn well there's nothing I or anyone else can do for my boy now. What the hell do you want me to do? If I so much as look at Frieza the wrong way, Vegeta will be dead. Along with the rest of our sorry asses."

I turned over, tiredly, pulling the blankets over my head.

"My Lord, please…"

"LEAVE ME!!" I screamed. They scurried away like so many insects. The doors slammed shut, and again I was alone.

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In all honesty, I was always alone. For the rest of my life, I was lonely, even if I was standing amidst a roomful of people.

My son and Bardock had been the only people who had ever truly known or loved me. Without them, I was lost. There was no one that I could trust and nowhere for me to turn.

Vegeta had stolen my heart…my face…my name…my soul. Without him, I had no reason for living. My continued existence was purposeless, directionless, and meaningless…

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I slept most of that day…I slept away the most part of every day. My presence was not needed, as I no longer made any decisions of importance.

Sleep was as good an escape as any…not as final as death, not as transient as chemicals. I still lived in the quarters that I had shared with Vegeta, unwilling to leave my memories behind, to let go of our lives together. I dreamt rarely, but when I did, my screams echoed through the palace corridors.

Other days I could not sleep at all, my mind so filled with images of my son that I could almost see him before me, as if he had never left. I would be so tired, bone-weary, but I couldn't bear to close my eyes against my son. Then I would finally collapse from fatigue…and the cycle would begin again.

I awoke mid-afternoon to a deafening silence. Vegeta was such a presence, even as a small baby, but more so when he began talking. The rooms were eerily quiet without his high-pitched cursing. I showered and dressed carefully. I didn't know what this was about, why Frieza had demanded my attendance, but I had a feeling in my gut that it was nothing good. I grimaced as I placed into my pocket my son's birthday gift. I wondered briefly if Frieza would even let me have a moment alone with Vegeta. I would get it to him somehow, though.

One of our ships was waiting to take me to Frieza. I knew the captain only slightly, we spoke briefly before I went to my seat. I thought of going to my cabin, but was far too nervous to sleep. I closed my eyes, thoughts of my son's disastrous sixth birthday running through my mind.

I must have dozed slightly, but I came to with a start. I felt a familiar presence next to me, and my confused brain called out, "Bardock?"

"No, sir," came the soft reply, "It's his son, Turles."

I opened my eyes and nearly fell out of my seat. Turles was nearing 13 years of age, and the resemblance between he and his father was startling.

He smiled gently at my surprise, "Ou, it's good to see you."

"And you, my boy…how did you come here?"

Turles answered, "I'm a lieutenant now. I was just promoted, and I asked if I could accompany you this evening."

My eyes softened, "Thank you, son. I appreciate your loyalty."

He blushed, then said, "Ou…would you mind if I asked you something?"

"No…of course not."

He began speaking quickly, as if expecting to be punished for his words, "I heard from one of your guards that you haven't been eating…that you sleep all the time. I'm worried that you're making yourself sick, my lord."

I laughed harshly, "I'm sick, Turles, I can't deny it. This situation is hardly conducive to happiness and good will."

"Sir, I know you're upset about Vegeta, and my father. But you must realize that your suffering will not help either one."

"I did not create either of these situations, Turles, so I am hardly in a position to do anything but suffer," I shot back.

Turles' voice lowered, "If you would stop feeling sorry for yourself for a damn moment you would realize that my father is in just as much pain as you are. You wouldn't be alone if you would just reach out to him."

"He won't speak to me. He won't even look at me."

"Dammit, Ou. He won't look at you because he's ashamed. Do you know what Frieza did to him?" he asked.

Fear spiked in my heart and I whispered, "What? What did he do?"

"A year ago, my father tried to attack Frieza…after he found Vegeta in the monster's quarters. Vegeta was nearly dead, and Bardock barely got him to the doctors in time to save him."

I choked back a sob. He continued, "Do you know what happened then? He made him choose. He threatened to take Radditz as his newest pet…in exchange for Vegeta. Frieza made my father choose between his sons…"

Tears leaked from behind my closed eyelids. I knew exactly how Bardock felt. The helplessness, the frustration, the self-loathing…I knew them well. "Oh, Turles, it would not have mattered. If Frieza had wanted Radditz he would have taken him…your Father had no choice…I don't blame him."

"Ou, if you don't blame my father, then how can you blame yourself? I don't know what happened, but I do know that Frieza is far too powerful for anyone to face alone."

I leaned over and hugged my lover's eldest son. He held me close as I cried. I felt the acceptance in his embrace. "Thank you, Turles. I appreciate your concern." I pulled away, and touched his face softly, "Better not let your commander catch you…he'll have our asses if he catches you crying."

He chuckled, and stood to leave, "I'd like to speak with you later…after you return. Would that be alright?"

I nodded. "It will be fine. I'm sure I'll be happy for your presence."

He turned and went back to his duties. I put my hand in my pocket and took out my son's gift. A small red and black pill, palmed from the infirmary's medical stores. An end to his suffering…and to mine.

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I had come to the conclusion that Vegeta was better off dead. I could not fight Frieza, but I could outsmart him. I would take his plaything from him. However, I could not possibly kill my son, but I could give him the means to decide his future. I had little doubt that the child would choose death over continued misery. The moment my son drew his last breath, then I would finally be free to take my own life.

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I arrived at my destination with little fanfare. I was met by one guard, a Saiyan, who did not seem the least bit impressed to be escorting his Ou. Turles flanked my right side. Other than my adolescent companion, I was completely without guards. Frieza's orders. I was at his mercy.

I was shown into a large room, the same room in which Bardock had made his heartbreaking choice. Turles and I were put at a great disadvantage, due to the outrageous coloration of the room. Purple and purple and purple…it made my eyes burn and my head began to pound. Vegeta lived with this every day…along with much, much worse.

We were seated at a large table that had been set up in the middle of the room. Our guard merely grunted, "Stay here." He turned and left us alone to take in our surroundings. Turles put a hand to his forehead saying, "Ou…dammit…this hurts…I think I'm gonna be sick."

"Shh…you're not. Close your eyes until they get here. Then you can concentrate on their faces. I want you to watch Vegeta. I'm sure Frieza will monopolize my attention."

"Yes, sir," he obeyed, shutting his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Out of sight, my fingers played nervously with the black capsule. I was sick as well, heart-sick, at the hand that Fate had dealt me. A father, praying for the death of his son. And willing to become the instrument of his demise.

Turles and I started at the sound of the opening doors. The Saiyan guard again, commanding us to stand. We did so, and waited hesitantly. Frieza entered first, Vegeta following a little bit behind and to the left. I inhaled sharply. It had been so long since I had seen him. The urge to run to him and hug him tight was so great that I had already taken a step before Turles' hand on my arm stopped me. Damn it. The boy was MINE…and I couldn't even go to him without the threat of dire consequences.

I eyed the pair warily as they neared. Frieza's tail twitched behind him lazily as he walked and Vegeta's eyes never left it. One swipe with that heavy tail was enough to break the tiny Ouji in two. Vegeta swerved at intervals to avoid the dangerous appendage.

He had grown since the last time I had seen him. He must have had a growth spurt because he was almost three inches taller. Vegeta was a little more filled out in the shoulders and arms, but his face was incredibly gaunt. Shadows underneath his eyes made him look much older than his eight years. Those once-infinite eyes were now guarded and cautious.

I swayed slightly as I noticed fading yellowed bruises on his neck … bruises in the shape of a hand. A small cut along his eyebrow was evident. The most frightening of all was the condition of his tail. I didn't notice it at first, his tail being wrapped so tightly around his middle. It was almost as if he were using it to comfort himself. Tufts of soft hair were missing, and I could tell that it had been broken severely at least two times.

Frieza sat first, motioning for Vegeta to be seated as well. Vegeta never so much as glanced my way. He looked at his hands folded neatly in his lap, he looked at his empty plate, he looked at the floor, anything but me. Frieza spoke to me of his newest plans, as if I really had any say in what he did. We talked for several minutes as we waited for the meal, mostly my agreeing with every word he said. My mind was not on Frieza, but rather on the child seated next to him. I observed him as best I could from the corner of my eye.

He twitched slightly every time Frieza's hand flew out in gesture. Imperceptible to anyone else, but to me it was like a damned red flag. The food arrived, and with it, another testament to Vegeta's agitated state of mind. He picked at his food reluctantly, a sure sign of mental anguish in a Saiyan, especially in a growing boy. Turles, beside me, was attacking his food as if it were still moving. I, too, was having trouble eating, mostly because of my raw anxiety.

Somehow, we finished that interminable dinner. I felt as if I had been out on the battlefield. I had heard rumors, hell, I had known in my heart what was happening to the child. But hearing about is vastly different than seeing the evidence with your own eyes. He was being abused, neglected, and brutalized, and there was not a fucking thing I could do but stand aside and look on.

A small door opened and one of Frieza's minions entered. He was carrying sheaves of paper and looked extremely troubled. Frieza stood away from the table, and told Vegeta to stay where he was.

For the first time in two years, I heard my son speak. In a small voice he answered, "Yes, my lord."

Dear gods. His voice was a travesty. His high voice had been musical, lilting. Even when he cursed at you, it sounded like singing. Now, his voice was gravelly. I could only hope that the damage was temporary. It was possible that he had lost his voice from screaming. Heavens forbid that it was permanent, I thought, as I looked at the marks on his neck.

As Frieza left the room, I pushed away my plate, leaning backwards into the chair. Turles let out his breath softly and relaxed his shoulders. Vegeta made no movement. His eyes were still cautious, and he made no attempt to speak. I decided to make my move.

"Vegeta, " I said gently.

He whipped his head up and answered swiftly, "Yes?"

I stood up and made as if to walk toward him. Vegeta was out of his seat before I knew what happened. He was now positioned with not only the table but also his chair in between us. The child was scared of me, visibly trembling. His dark eyes followed me as I crossed to the other side of the table. I bent down on one knee and whispered, "Vegeta, you mustn't be afraid. I won't hurt you."

Vegeta said nothing, but he did slide the chair under the table. He walked stiffly to where I kneeled. I wondered vaguely if his unnatural gait was due to the pains in his joints, or if they were due to some act of violence. I held out my arms and he moved away without thinking. Something inside of me died.

"Vegeta, my son, I could never hurt you."

He gave me a knowing glance. He trusted nothing and no one, and with good reason. Finally, he moved into my arms. I folded him into my embrace. Vegeta stood rigidly, like a corpse. I wanted to take him and get the fuck out of there. I didn't give a damn anymore about Vegetasei or its inhabitants. In that moment, the only thing that mattered to me was my son.

"Oh, baby," I whispered, "I'm so sorry."

I felt his tail unwind from his waist and begin to pat me softly on the back. "It's alright, Father, it's not your fault."

I began to cry. Vegeta was the one being tormented day after day, but here he was comforting me. Shame knotted in my belly. I kissed him on his forehead, saying, "I miss you so much. I think about you every day. Every minute."

His eyes softened and he answered, "I miss you, Father." He spoke so softly that I almost could not hear him.

The child whose voice had echoed through the halls of our palace, whose screaming had led to the resignation of three of his nurses, whose curses had become almost legendary, that child was gone. In his place was an automaton, a shell of the wild and untamed Vegeta that I had known and loved. Frieza had succeeded in doing what no one else could have. He had broken Vegeta. He had broken his spirit, his will, his mind, and now he could mold Vegeta just as he wished.

I wanted to speak, I had so much I needed to say, but no words would come. Surprisingly, Vegeta spoke, hesitantly at first, "Father…whatever I did…I'm sorry…I didn't mean to…please, I'm so sorry."

My stomach lurched and I quickly responded, "No…no baby…you did nothing wrong…you are not being punished."

His voice lowered and he asked softly, "No?" Oh, he was being punished, but not for any sin he had committed. He was paying not for his crimes, but for mine. A blood sacrifice for my life, for Radditz' life, for the life of every Saiyan.

I told him so, adding, "Oh, Vegeta, if there was anything I could do to stop this…I would do it."

His ancient eyes bored into me. He answered, "There's nothing…he's far too strong…even for you. I'm trying though, Father…to become a Super Saiyan…I want to make you proud." His speech was slow, halting, as if he has forgotten how to speak. I later learned that he had not spoken for the greater part of the year following the incident that Bardock had witnessed.

I hugged him again, knowing that my time with him would be brief. Frieza would not leave us alone together for long. I reached into my pocket, and pulled out the fatal capsule. "Vegeta, I brought you something. I don't know if you want it."

He looked at it appraisingly and his eyes welled slightly with tears, "Oh, Father."

I tried to explain, "I'm not saying that I want you to use it. Only that if it's too unbearable…I don't want you to suffer…not for me."

He reached up with one small hand and caressed my face tenderly, "Thank you. It won't help me, but there's another here…he's very young, I'll give it to him."

He took the pill from my hand and held it almost lovingly. Vegeta continued, "He won't let me die. I've tried before. He always makes them heal me. But…I'm not ready for death yet. I want to see….I want to see how it ends."

A profound statement from one so young. He had seen things in his young life that were too horrifying to even speak of, yet he still held a belief that there was a future for him. I was so ashamed at my weakness. If he could live with this pain, then so must I.

Turles, forgotten during our reunion, startled us by saying harshly, "I hear him coming."

Vegeta pushed me away from him, but not in time. Frieza walked in before I even had time to wipe away the tears staining my cheeks. He smiled, a terrible smile, and said, "Well…now isn't that cute. Such a tender moment…Vegeta, I believe that I ordered you to stay in your seat."

Vegeta dipped his head quickly and said, "You did, my lord, please forgive me."

Frieza sauntered to the end of the table, grasping Vegeta by the shoulder. I rose to my feet, but did not interfere. Frieza relented, "Hmm…I suppose I can be lenient…this time…it is your birthday."

"Thank you, my lord," came the soft reply.

My jaw was clenched so tightly that the muscles in my face began to spasm. Frieza continued, "Come along now, Vegeta. Tell your father goodbye. We have much to do tomorrow."

Vegeta mumbled, "G'bye, Father."

My voice shook with emotion, "Goodbye, Vegeta."

The pair turned and moved towards the doors. They had nearly reached them when Vegeta broke away and ran to me. He threw his arms around my neck and kissed my face. "I love you." I answered him in return. As he pulled away, I felt small hands slip something inside my coat pocket.

Turles and I were escorted to our ship without incident. I did not collapse until I was in my own quarters. I was not alone, as my son was. Turles was by my side, holding me as I sobbed out my grief. I cried so much that I was sick, vomiting the remains of that godforsaken meal. I could barely walk, I was so exhausted, but the young lieutenant saw that I was put into bed. As I removed my coat, a letter fell onto the pillow behind me. Wordlessly, my lover's son handed it to me.

On the front it said merely, "Ou." I opened it with much trepidation. Heavens only knew what I would find inside. I couldn't bear to read it, and Turles offered to read it to me.

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"Dear Father,

I know that you are worried about me. Don't be. I'll be fine. I'm your son. I'm the Ouji. And I am strong. I will live through this.

I hear that you are ill, and it scares me. I wish I was with you.

He says that you don't want me, but he lies.

I know that I will see you again soon, no matter what he says.

Please tell Bardock that I'm not angry and that I understand.

I hope that you get well. I love you. Vegeta no Ouji "

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