Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Tempt of Fate ❯ Renewal ( Chapter 1 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Tsuyoku 
Bulma finds Vegeta-Sei a very interesting planet, but maybe it's the King who's the most interesting...
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Classic / Romance | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 03.10.2007 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.9K | Visits: 1.6K | Status: Work In Progress
Bulma finds Vegeta-Sei a very interesting planet, but maybe it's the King who's the most interesting...
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Classic / Romance | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 03.10.2007 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.9K | Visits: 1.6K | Status: Work In Progress
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own anything relating to, nor am I making any money off of this. Don’t sue me. This applies to all chapters of the fiction from here on.
Tsuyoku: My third DBZ fic [one of them isn’t posted yet.] I really like this idea. I might, as well, be working on another. I have ADD, so I work on a lot of fics at once and don’t have a set date to complete them by. Just a warning. ^ ^ This fic is an AU as are a lot, but there are many of mine that are not that I have not put up on FF.net or mediaminer.org yet. ~ ~
CHAPTER ONE: Tempt of Fate
She found herself shivering even with the silk shawl over her shoulders. The ship was cool and clean, not a bit of homely warmth to it at all. That was what she did not like about these diplomatic missions. They were always so cold, so undeniably sickening that it was a pain to go on them. But that was the fate of a King’s wife. Bulma was technically a Queen and was raised in the depths of royalty, but there was hardly a spark of the trademark conceit that most the family carried. She had the will and power to do many things, a gift which she was very grateful of. Still, there were some parts of your job that you were allowed to hate and this was one of them. There was no telling why the Queen was required to accompany her husband on trips to renew contracts, but as it was, she went along and did not complain aloud.
A total of Seven days. Seven days and six nights they would be on the planet Vegeta-Sei. It was a long duration on these other planets, and even though they were usually greeted with open arms and many nights of exquisite food and dancing entertainment, Bulma just wanted to be home, solving hunger problems, giving money to the poverty-stricken, doing what she loved best. Bulma, without knowing it, was the epitome of the ultimate Royal House Representative; she loved solving the problems of the planet that she co-ruled, and sometimes, even other planets benefited from her generosity. In a sense, she was a genius, and the people were lucky to have her.
Her husband was the different story. He ruled like there was a fleet of army ships waiting outside the gravity pull of their planet to attack them any moment. And he trained his troops like there was no tomorrow. Their space fleet was one of the best, sometimes to their disadvantage. Many men were not available to work in their jobs and control the means of production; their wives were now accustomed to those tasks. It’s not that Bulma hated the fact that the women were working--she loved women’s rights--but that caused children to work to support their own family. That was why she was always giving money and her own help to the people.
A voice sounded over the intercom in her native language. They were now approaching the planet of Vegeta-Sei, and as much as she really didn’t want to be there, Bulma wanted so badly off that ship. The cabin fever was getting to her as it had many of the crew. Her husband, King Atrono, was used to the feeling of being cooped up in ships as these.
The landing area was already filled with many diplomats; their clothing suggested their importance. Her suit of blue cotton, the color of royalty from where she came from, twisted this way and that in the wind that washed through the landing area. Bulma had never been to Vegeta-Sei before, so the area, clothing, and dialect were very much different from her own. She had studied many forms of language growing up. One had to be able to communicate with people if one was to rule the people. She knew the formal out-of-the-book language of Vegeta-Sei, but she was getting the full course in the different dialect that people spoke. Bulma could understand what the diplomats were saying, their speak very formal and crisp, but the servants that surrounded them, however little they spoke, had such a different tone and possibly a different accent than the others. It was very odd, to see such a society have a clear line drawn between the nobles and common folk. How she hated that.
To her surprise, they were told that the King was not there to meet them, but would see them later that evening in the Great Hall. Bulma thought it rude for him not to greet his guests as they arrived, but followed one of the diplomats to their suite accommodations.
While her husband went off for some reasons, Bulma sat for a while in their room writing on her fantasy stories. She found such a pleasure in being able to escape from reality while writing her pseudo novels. It was a pleasure of hers that she allowed herself, for her stories were only for her own use, not to be published or used anywhere. But today the words just weren’t flowing through. She was stuck, something that didn’t usually happen, but when it did Bulma found it hard to concentrate on the writings. She sighed.
Outside the window, Bulma could see most of the city. The ports seemed constantly used on this planet. She could see the people walking and running around. They had many different types of clothing here. Bulma was never one to believe in the class system, so she found it very oppressing that it was used on Vegeta-Sei. You could see the gap in education when they walked by; you could cut the tension between the diplomats and their servants with a knife. She couldn’t stand it. Bulma decided that she really didn’t like how this place was run, and even though she had never met him, the king of Vegeta-sei was starting to really sound like a prick.
She shouldn’t think like that, Bulma knew. It was her job as a diplomat to understand other people and cooperate with the rest of the coexisting universe.Sigh. She stood up and exited the room, looking around the halls which were very beautifully decorated. It was an old sort of decoration, a classical approach to the palace décor. She found it quite lovely. No doubt that the king probably didn’t have anything to do with the palace decoration on a normal basis–there she went again, assuming things.
Her indigo pants swayed under the lighter color suit jacket that she wore; it seemed that she completely matched this palace. In royal blue, streams of fabric hung through the halls, and here she was: a blue-eyed, blue-haired, blue-dressed beauty walking the halls.
‘Yes,’ Bulma thought, ‘I am beautiful.’ She knew it, her planet knew it. ‘But most of the time, I think that my husband doesn’t.’ She seemed to be sighing a lot lately. It was the new surroundings, she told herself.
Here she was, still walking around the hallways, not having much of an idea as to where she was going, but still not caring either way. She might’ve tried to find the great hall where her husband was holding meetings at this very moment, but Bulma knew that she was not expected to attend them. She’d heard the rumors about King Vegeta at least. He was sexist. That made him a prick, she supposed. She’d already noticed the lack of women that roamed the palace and the streets. There were very few, and even when she did see some, they were dressed in some sort of armor, as if they were attempting to be masculine. It didn’t make sense.
But it wouldn’t now, would it? Things weren’t supposed to make sense when you were on another planet, especially when it was so different from your own.
‘Quick’, she thought. ‘there’s someone talking down there.’ Peeking around the corner, she found a man talking to someone else. The first man she couldn’t make out, only that he had big hair and a cute butt. The second man wasn’t even visible for how the first one towered over him. But she knew that they were both men for the sound of their voices echoing softly off the walls.
The first one moved a bit over and she could now see the second one. ‘So that’s him, she short one…’ The shorter, second man stood at and angle, his clothing suggesting that he was the king and that he was to be treated with respect. Not that he was getting any from this first man. Now the voices were arguing over the dungeon capacity or something of the sort.
‘What a silly thing to argue over.’ Suddenly the first man turned around and was walking straight towards her. She found herself backing up a few feet around the corner, praying that it wasn’t her that he was approaching. But she quickly found that he hadn’t seen her and was walking now down the adjacent hallway and through a set of grand doors.
She inwardly sighed for a moment. But it was short lived as a voice called out specifically to her from down the hallway where the king still stood. “Woman, I saw you standing there. I can smell you. Come out, I demand so.” His voice was at least a bit cooler than it had been when he was speaking with that man, but no so much that she was comforted. Bulma rounded the corner and stood before him, still assuming a safe distance of about ten feet or so.
“Tell me why you were standing there listening to my conversation.” It was not a question, it was a demand. Though she didn’t take kindly to this treatment on a normal basis, she was a little scared in her current situation. And he knew it too.
“I was wandering around. I happened to stumble on the two of you speaking, though I was just on my way.” There was nothing in her voice or body language to suggest that she was lying or that she had been spying on them, the King noted that.
“Wandering around.” Once again, it wasn’t a question, just a demand to explain. Bulma was soon to realize that the king wouldn’t ask questions. He’d demand. Her husband did the same thing. He demanded an answer. A question left the subject open for discussion; a demand did not.
“I’m here with my husband. I was just looking for the Great Hall where I could find him when I heard you two. We are here–“
“I know why you’re here woman. I know who you are. There is no mistaking that. You stick out too much to belong here." Bulma narrowed her eyes at his statement. It was true, but he said it with disdain and a mocking tone. Well, she wasn't scared of him. Not like all the others. He wouldn't have the guts to do anything to her. Or so she thought...
She turned away and started to walk away from him, not wanting to talk any longer. But Bulma was about to see a small bit of the true power that the ruler had stored away. Her arm was grabbed and she was spun around. It was amazing; Bulma hadn't even heard him walk towards her. "How dare you walk away from me, woman." She was more scared now.
"How dare you grab me!" Bulma had no idea why she had said that, nor wanted to think very much as she was lifted off of the ground a few feet. The hand around her neck was not choking her, but the circulation would be cutting off soon, so she did the only thing that she felt she had the power to. Bulma struggled.
As futile as it seemed, there were only two ways that she was going to get out of this situation: one was that she would suddenly gain super strength and fight the king off (unlikely), and the other was that she would just apologize and get it over with. Bulma found the second one a bit more realistic and even though her pride would be severely hurt, Bulma opened her mouth to say it.
“Forgive me, your Highness. It was not my place to disobey you.” She spoke.
‘Oh Please!!!’ Bulma spoke to herself inside. How pathetic did she look? Sure, she’d said the same things to her husband when he yelled at her, but there was never a time that she actually sincerely said it. Her husband would be appeased if she said it, whether or not she meant it.
“Hn.” Was all that he said. Actually, it wasn’t said; it was more of a grunt that told her she could go. His hand released Bulma’s neck and her body slid down the wall to which it had been pinned. She rubbed her neck a bit to relieve the soreness. It hadn’t choked her, more like it held her there while his eyes did the talking. Those black pits seemed emotionless to her before, but as Bulma remembered looking into them for those long seconds, there was as much built up passion and emotion that she had in her. A king needed something like that, she supposed.
“You’d do well to remember that, Woman.” He’d taken to calling her that, had he? Well, Bulma would’ve liked to have given him a piece of her mind, but reflecting on the events moments ago, she kept her mouth shut and instead watched him walk away.
And so was Bulma’s first encounter with the King of Vegeta-Sei.
But it wouldn’t be the last. She figured that whenever she saw the king, they would be at each other’s throats, whether or not it was verbally, physically, or more likely just between the two in an unspoken fight.
%$#@#$&%^�$%
The evening wasn’t that great either. If she hadn’t liked being on this planet with it’s irrelevant class system and stuck up diplomats before, Bulma surely didn’t enjoy the dinner the least bit.
No one spoke, except for the small murmurs between the diplomats, King Vegeta, and King Atrono. All the others present sat in a very thick silence. Her eye couldn’t help but twitch. And as they exited to leave for bed, Bulma once again locked eyes with King Vegeta; his gaze once again showed her what was really behind his face. It scared her, but Bulma’s pride made her unable to look away while they glared daggers towards each other. So despite the pride that rose up in her again, Bulma unlocked her eyes from the fallen King and walked off behind her husband. It would not be wise to make him very angry with her. She knew that Vegeta would not be the type of man to call her impudence out to her husband, there was more pride in him than that; however, Bulma figured that he held a grudge, and that could hurt the renewal of their contract.
So, she walked down the hallways beside her husband. "You let her walk beside you." Once again, the King did not ask questions; he used the reactions to his statements as a good enough answer.
"Hm." It seemed that her husband had taken to the King. There was never any question about her walking beside him when they were at home, but here, it seemed, things were different and whether or not she was able to be an equal at home, the King Vegeta saw to it that she act inferior while she was there on his planet. So, Bulma, crushing her pride that seemed to be screaming at her to yell at him, stopped walking and allowed her husband to pass her a few paces before resuming her small walk to turn in for the night.
Stupid, arrogant, self-centered King!
#%(#$%�@$#$^#
Tsuyoku: I’m currently working on this fic and Mission Accepted the most. I have a few new ones out as well (possibly a Rurouni Kenshin and maybe a few new Inu Yashas, but don’t quote me on that last one.) I hope to have chapter two up sooner than most of my updates have come. THX R&R! Flames accepted.
Tsuyoku: My third DBZ fic [one of them isn’t posted yet.] I really like this idea. I might, as well, be working on another. I have ADD, so I work on a lot of fics at once and don’t have a set date to complete them by. Just a warning. ^ ^ This fic is an AU as are a lot, but there are many of mine that are not that I have not put up on FF.net or mediaminer.org yet. ~ ~
CHAPTER ONE: Tempt of Fate
She found herself shivering even with the silk shawl over her shoulders. The ship was cool and clean, not a bit of homely warmth to it at all. That was what she did not like about these diplomatic missions. They were always so cold, so undeniably sickening that it was a pain to go on them. But that was the fate of a King’s wife. Bulma was technically a Queen and was raised in the depths of royalty, but there was hardly a spark of the trademark conceit that most the family carried. She had the will and power to do many things, a gift which she was very grateful of. Still, there were some parts of your job that you were allowed to hate and this was one of them. There was no telling why the Queen was required to accompany her husband on trips to renew contracts, but as it was, she went along and did not complain aloud.
A total of Seven days. Seven days and six nights they would be on the planet Vegeta-Sei. It was a long duration on these other planets, and even though they were usually greeted with open arms and many nights of exquisite food and dancing entertainment, Bulma just wanted to be home, solving hunger problems, giving money to the poverty-stricken, doing what she loved best. Bulma, without knowing it, was the epitome of the ultimate Royal House Representative; she loved solving the problems of the planet that she co-ruled, and sometimes, even other planets benefited from her generosity. In a sense, she was a genius, and the people were lucky to have her.
Her husband was the different story. He ruled like there was a fleet of army ships waiting outside the gravity pull of their planet to attack them any moment. And he trained his troops like there was no tomorrow. Their space fleet was one of the best, sometimes to their disadvantage. Many men were not available to work in their jobs and control the means of production; their wives were now accustomed to those tasks. It’s not that Bulma hated the fact that the women were working--she loved women’s rights--but that caused children to work to support their own family. That was why she was always giving money and her own help to the people.
A voice sounded over the intercom in her native language. They were now approaching the planet of Vegeta-Sei, and as much as she really didn’t want to be there, Bulma wanted so badly off that ship. The cabin fever was getting to her as it had many of the crew. Her husband, King Atrono, was used to the feeling of being cooped up in ships as these.
The landing area was already filled with many diplomats; their clothing suggested their importance. Her suit of blue cotton, the color of royalty from where she came from, twisted this way and that in the wind that washed through the landing area. Bulma had never been to Vegeta-Sei before, so the area, clothing, and dialect were very much different from her own. She had studied many forms of language growing up. One had to be able to communicate with people if one was to rule the people. She knew the formal out-of-the-book language of Vegeta-Sei, but she was getting the full course in the different dialect that people spoke. Bulma could understand what the diplomats were saying, their speak very formal and crisp, but the servants that surrounded them, however little they spoke, had such a different tone and possibly a different accent than the others. It was very odd, to see such a society have a clear line drawn between the nobles and common folk. How she hated that.
To her surprise, they were told that the King was not there to meet them, but would see them later that evening in the Great Hall. Bulma thought it rude for him not to greet his guests as they arrived, but followed one of the diplomats to their suite accommodations.
While her husband went off for some reasons, Bulma sat for a while in their room writing on her fantasy stories. She found such a pleasure in being able to escape from reality while writing her pseudo novels. It was a pleasure of hers that she allowed herself, for her stories were only for her own use, not to be published or used anywhere. But today the words just weren’t flowing through. She was stuck, something that didn’t usually happen, but when it did Bulma found it hard to concentrate on the writings. She sighed.
Outside the window, Bulma could see most of the city. The ports seemed constantly used on this planet. She could see the people walking and running around. They had many different types of clothing here. Bulma was never one to believe in the class system, so she found it very oppressing that it was used on Vegeta-Sei. You could see the gap in education when they walked by; you could cut the tension between the diplomats and their servants with a knife. She couldn’t stand it. Bulma decided that she really didn’t like how this place was run, and even though she had never met him, the king of Vegeta-sei was starting to really sound like a prick.
She shouldn’t think like that, Bulma knew. It was her job as a diplomat to understand other people and cooperate with the rest of the coexisting universe.Sigh. She stood up and exited the room, looking around the halls which were very beautifully decorated. It was an old sort of decoration, a classical approach to the palace décor. She found it quite lovely. No doubt that the king probably didn’t have anything to do with the palace decoration on a normal basis–there she went again, assuming things.
Her indigo pants swayed under the lighter color suit jacket that she wore; it seemed that she completely matched this palace. In royal blue, streams of fabric hung through the halls, and here she was: a blue-eyed, blue-haired, blue-dressed beauty walking the halls.
‘Yes,’ Bulma thought, ‘I am beautiful.’ She knew it, her planet knew it. ‘But most of the time, I think that my husband doesn’t.’ She seemed to be sighing a lot lately. It was the new surroundings, she told herself.
Here she was, still walking around the hallways, not having much of an idea as to where she was going, but still not caring either way. She might’ve tried to find the great hall where her husband was holding meetings at this very moment, but Bulma knew that she was not expected to attend them. She’d heard the rumors about King Vegeta at least. He was sexist. That made him a prick, she supposed. She’d already noticed the lack of women that roamed the palace and the streets. There were very few, and even when she did see some, they were dressed in some sort of armor, as if they were attempting to be masculine. It didn’t make sense.
But it wouldn’t now, would it? Things weren’t supposed to make sense when you were on another planet, especially when it was so different from your own.
‘Quick’, she thought. ‘there’s someone talking down there.’ Peeking around the corner, she found a man talking to someone else. The first man she couldn’t make out, only that he had big hair and a cute butt. The second man wasn’t even visible for how the first one towered over him. But she knew that they were both men for the sound of their voices echoing softly off the walls.
The first one moved a bit over and she could now see the second one. ‘So that’s him, she short one…’ The shorter, second man stood at and angle, his clothing suggesting that he was the king and that he was to be treated with respect. Not that he was getting any from this first man. Now the voices were arguing over the dungeon capacity or something of the sort.
‘What a silly thing to argue over.’ Suddenly the first man turned around and was walking straight towards her. She found herself backing up a few feet around the corner, praying that it wasn’t her that he was approaching. But she quickly found that he hadn’t seen her and was walking now down the adjacent hallway and through a set of grand doors.
She inwardly sighed for a moment. But it was short lived as a voice called out specifically to her from down the hallway where the king still stood. “Woman, I saw you standing there. I can smell you. Come out, I demand so.” His voice was at least a bit cooler than it had been when he was speaking with that man, but no so much that she was comforted. Bulma rounded the corner and stood before him, still assuming a safe distance of about ten feet or so.
“Tell me why you were standing there listening to my conversation.” It was not a question, it was a demand. Though she didn’t take kindly to this treatment on a normal basis, she was a little scared in her current situation. And he knew it too.
“I was wandering around. I happened to stumble on the two of you speaking, though I was just on my way.” There was nothing in her voice or body language to suggest that she was lying or that she had been spying on them, the King noted that.
“Wandering around.” Once again, it wasn’t a question, just a demand to explain. Bulma was soon to realize that the king wouldn’t ask questions. He’d demand. Her husband did the same thing. He demanded an answer. A question left the subject open for discussion; a demand did not.
“I’m here with my husband. I was just looking for the Great Hall where I could find him when I heard you two. We are here–“
“I know why you’re here woman. I know who you are. There is no mistaking that. You stick out too much to belong here." Bulma narrowed her eyes at his statement. It was true, but he said it with disdain and a mocking tone. Well, she wasn't scared of him. Not like all the others. He wouldn't have the guts to do anything to her. Or so she thought...
She turned away and started to walk away from him, not wanting to talk any longer. But Bulma was about to see a small bit of the true power that the ruler had stored away. Her arm was grabbed and she was spun around. It was amazing; Bulma hadn't even heard him walk towards her. "How dare you walk away from me, woman." She was more scared now.
"How dare you grab me!" Bulma had no idea why she had said that, nor wanted to think very much as she was lifted off of the ground a few feet. The hand around her neck was not choking her, but the circulation would be cutting off soon, so she did the only thing that she felt she had the power to. Bulma struggled.
As futile as it seemed, there were only two ways that she was going to get out of this situation: one was that she would suddenly gain super strength and fight the king off (unlikely), and the other was that she would just apologize and get it over with. Bulma found the second one a bit more realistic and even though her pride would be severely hurt, Bulma opened her mouth to say it.
“Forgive me, your Highness. It was not my place to disobey you.” She spoke.
‘Oh Please!!!’ Bulma spoke to herself inside. How pathetic did she look? Sure, she’d said the same things to her husband when he yelled at her, but there was never a time that she actually sincerely said it. Her husband would be appeased if she said it, whether or not she meant it.
“Hn.” Was all that he said. Actually, it wasn’t said; it was more of a grunt that told her she could go. His hand released Bulma’s neck and her body slid down the wall to which it had been pinned. She rubbed her neck a bit to relieve the soreness. It hadn’t choked her, more like it held her there while his eyes did the talking. Those black pits seemed emotionless to her before, but as Bulma remembered looking into them for those long seconds, there was as much built up passion and emotion that she had in her. A king needed something like that, she supposed.
“You’d do well to remember that, Woman.” He’d taken to calling her that, had he? Well, Bulma would’ve liked to have given him a piece of her mind, but reflecting on the events moments ago, she kept her mouth shut and instead watched him walk away.
And so was Bulma’s first encounter with the King of Vegeta-Sei.
But it wouldn’t be the last. She figured that whenever she saw the king, they would be at each other’s throats, whether or not it was verbally, physically, or more likely just between the two in an unspoken fight.
%$#@#$&%^�$%
The evening wasn’t that great either. If she hadn’t liked being on this planet with it’s irrelevant class system and stuck up diplomats before, Bulma surely didn’t enjoy the dinner the least bit.
No one spoke, except for the small murmurs between the diplomats, King Vegeta, and King Atrono. All the others present sat in a very thick silence. Her eye couldn’t help but twitch. And as they exited to leave for bed, Bulma once again locked eyes with King Vegeta; his gaze once again showed her what was really behind his face. It scared her, but Bulma’s pride made her unable to look away while they glared daggers towards each other. So despite the pride that rose up in her again, Bulma unlocked her eyes from the fallen King and walked off behind her husband. It would not be wise to make him very angry with her. She knew that Vegeta would not be the type of man to call her impudence out to her husband, there was more pride in him than that; however, Bulma figured that he held a grudge, and that could hurt the renewal of their contract.
So, she walked down the hallways beside her husband. "You let her walk beside you." Once again, the King did not ask questions; he used the reactions to his statements as a good enough answer.
"Hm." It seemed that her husband had taken to the King. There was never any question about her walking beside him when they were at home, but here, it seemed, things were different and whether or not she was able to be an equal at home, the King Vegeta saw to it that she act inferior while she was there on his planet. So, Bulma, crushing her pride that seemed to be screaming at her to yell at him, stopped walking and allowed her husband to pass her a few paces before resuming her small walk to turn in for the night.
Stupid, arrogant, self-centered King!
#%(#$%�@$#$^#
Tsuyoku: I’m currently working on this fic and Mission Accepted the most. I have a few new ones out as well (possibly a Rurouni Kenshin and maybe a few new Inu Yashas, but don’t quote me on that last one.) I hope to have chapter two up sooner than most of my updates have come. THX R&R! Flames accepted.