Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Something More ❯ To be Stronger ( Prologue )

A/N: I've decided to try this again, but with a completely different plot. Hopefully this one will actually be completed, though my desire for writing fanfiction is lacking these days. Be forewarned that this fic may never be completed. But that's only a possibility.

Sehra Palace, Planet Erama, 797 A.D.

PROLOGUE

To be Stronger

As the setting sun dipped behind the clouds, the sky was transformed into the colour of blood. The last rays of the sun streaked through the openings between the clouds as though it was choosing to shine upon only those worthy enough. The highest room in the west wing of Sehra Palace was not graced with a ray of sunshine.

The room was empty except for the two occupants and a single bed. He knew what she was planning to do, and he knew it was wrong, but he was drawn to her somehow. He wanted her.

No! he thought in panic. I do not want her! Not this woman; she's the wrong one!

"There's no point trying to resist it," she told him seductively, her hips swaying. Her long, dark brown hair cascaded in waves upon her back. Her breasts rose with every breath and her large, dark eyes flashed in determination. She would have him. Her skin was pale and the contrast between her hair and skin was startling. She was tall and slender, her body showing all the curves of a mature woman.

But in truth, she was not much older than sixteen. Even so, she was breathtaking.

Both his heart and head ordered him to resist. He could do so; he was a Saiyan. This woman was not the one he wanted. But his member seemed to tell him otherwise as his loins tightened slightly at the sight of her moving hips.

Lust shone brightly in Daikon's eyes, and his sense of wanting -- of needing -- this girl was almost overpowering. It was all he could do to keep from taking her right then.

But she's the wrong one!

The Erama sidled closer, her eyes lowered. She pressed her hips up against his own, and looked up at the Saiyan through lowered-lashes. Slowly, gently, she pulled Daikon's shirt upwards, and he help to pull it over his head and toss it to the floor. She rose to her tip-toes and whispered lightly in his ear.

"I desire you." Then she nibbled on his earlobe and planted light kisses on his bare shoulder.

The effect was tantalizing, and Daikon felt his member harden. "Ariya." Her name fell from his lips huskily as both landed lightly on the soft bed behind them, the Erama female on top.

Don't do it! You don't love Ariya!

He reached up, and planted a soft but firm kiss on Ariya's ruby lips. She responded instantly, deepening the kiss by wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him even closer. They broke away, gasping for breath.

She gazed down at the young man under her. Her man. No longer did he belong to that other woman, though it had taken some doing to get him, so strong was his feelings for her. And all of a sudden she wanted him inside her with a passion so great it hurt. She needed to finalize their bonding, and there was only one way to do so.

"Take me, Daikon," Ariya pleaded. "Take me now."

Daikon smirked at her eagerness and rolled over so the positions were switched.

What are you doing? STOP!!

..::..

She watched in horror from the doorway as Daikon began to undo the buttons on the back of Ariya's tight top. She had thought she and Ariya were friends; then the Erama had met the youngest Briefs boy and everything had changed so swiftly.

Tears sprang to her eyes as the top fell away, followed by her pants, leaving the princess in only her underclothes. The girl turned and ran down the hall, tears streaming down her cheeks and her breaths coming in sobs. She meant nothing to Daikon; their night together had been meaningless to him. She was nothing but a girl whom he could use whenever he felt the need.

She burst through the door to her room, the room Ariya had hand-chosen for her when she had first arrived. Their friendship meant nothing, either. Nothing seemed to matter when she was involved.

Closing the wooden door behind her, she leaned against it, her body shaking with sobs. She sank to the floor and buried her head in her hands, so strong was the grief and stinging pain of being tossed aside. She brought her head up, slamming it hard against the door, and her gaze fell on a small duffel bag. She stared at it a moment as, through her swirling thoughts, and idea slowly formed.

Jumping up, she grabbed the bag and walked over to the large, intricately designed dresser. Opening a single door, she found all her belongings and shoved them into the bag, not bothering with neatness. She turned on her heel and strode out of the door.

Her head was held high was she walked through the palace corridors despite her tears and obvious pain. She ignored any sympathetic smiles she received from those still retiring to their rooms for the night and stared straight ahead.

If he could get along without her, then she could get along with him. She would make sure of it. Bulma had once told her that her break-up with her first long-time boyfriend, Yamcha, had made her stronger.

"It was painful at first," the woman had admitted, "but I have to thank him. The incident made me stronger in the end. I learned that there are people that will hurt you, but you will just have to deal with them. Things will always work out."

The young woman set her jaw in determination. She would endure the pain and move on, allowing the circumstance to make her tougher. Things would work out. She would make sure of it.

..::..

A/N: I know that the prologue was short, and probably a little confusing, but things will make sense as they progress, and probably grow longer, too. Christina Aguilera's new song, Fighter inspired me for parts of this chapter, in case you see some resemblance. I have done a songfic using that song, too.

Feel free to leave a review or e-mail me at keruri_chan07@hotmail.com. All questions, comments and criticisms are more than welcome.