Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ tHe DeStInY oF ChAlLeNgE ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

The Destiny of Challenge

~Disclaimer- Obviously I do not own DBZ!

Vegeta- 19

Bulma- 16

Chi Chi- 15

Prologue:

Small rays of light shone through the shadows, stroking a young girls face as she turned trying to avoid the bright light. Her minimal efforts were awarded miserably as the strand of light remained on her sorrowful face, highlighting the features of a beautiful six-teen year old girl. Her aqua colored hair lay softly on her pale face, as the silken blue strands slightly swayed from the breeze that entered the dark room. She was starting to move in attempt to awake, though reluctant to enter the new day. As a palace slave, each day was no intrigue to her usually young and eager mind. Her frail figure trembled at the sound of footsteps echoing in her sensitive ears.

Hastily she got to her feet in fear of the one that approached her dismal quarters that jailed not only her physical form, but the soul that wished to thrive outside of the intricate walls of the palace as well. Her pale face was brushed with light diamonds of water from lying on the moist floor. They droplets were left as a burly man entered her vision. Quickly turning her gaze to the man that had just entered she glared at him intently, her sapphire eyes willing for his demise. His face was harsh looking that went perfectly with his almost hostile glare. She let her eyes wonder to the floor as he spoke,

"Duty calls, wench."

Quickly removing her eyes from the floor she glared at him darkly. Only to her surprise he smirked amusingly.

"Keep that insolent stare on me and I'll change your duties," he said while looking at the feminine curves of her body.

She winced, disgusted by the Saiyan standing before her.

"May as well remove that horrid quirk of a smile," she growled in anger, "for I'd bit my own tail off before bedding an unworthy excuse of a man."

Opening the steel bared gate that was standing in between them, the guard hit her across the face with fury in his eyes.

"Let's go! It's time for you, little miss, to get to work, and if I find that you're slacking off I will punish you myself!"

The girl bitterly followed him out of the room. She had lived there since she was eleven years old after her father had disrespected a royal guard. For punishment both his daughter and himself were brought as slaves in the palace. After living in the palace as a low class slave Bulma had grown accustomed to the poor treatment she received, though that didn't mean to say she accepted the ill regard of her status. Numerous lashes that streaked the once flawless flesh of her back were evidence enough to her defiant nature.

Five years of enduring the cruel snickers of the Lords, the gawking of guards, and the condescending smirk of the Prince, Bulma had already gained a reputation throughout the gigantic palace. Her defiance was not the only cause, rather her exotic blue hair and astonishing beauty had captured the jealousy of many maidens and unwanted attention of ignorant males. Despite the odds of the situation, the young girl had grown fond of the Saiyan no Ouji, mostly due to respect for his accomplishments. Though she couldn't avoid the thought that he could free her from her bonds.

There was no dispute in her mind that the Queen and King wouldn't have the time nor need to listen to her pleas, though what of the Prince? Only what she would later to discover to be foolish hope led her growing desires and dreams.

Bulma's searching gaze studied the lush material beneath her light steps as she was lost in thought. Crimson red carpets from foreign lands filled the palace halls, the silken seams giving great contrast to the white walls that were lined with vibrant gold. All were the colors that represented the Royal House of Vegeta, and were honored by the Saiyan people, just as they respected the Royal Family.

Though the halls that Bulma encountered continually through her duties were decorated with numerous arts and artifacts, they compared nothing to the continuous space of palace that was inhabited by the royals. She discovered this during times that she had been a replacement of a servant of higher regard, performing simple tasks such as cleaning. Her thoughts were dropped the moment her usual working quarters came into view. Hastily she retreated into the open room, escaping the scrutinizing gaze of the palace guard.

She sighed in relief as she started to see familiar faces, one in particular belonging to her beloved father. His light tanned face was worn by lines of age that etched across his now smiling face. Bulma affectionately hugged her age-withered father, greeting him happily for the first time since the previous day. She had been separated from her father in the beginning of her long stay in the palace, consequently ending up in the cold cell she still resided in today.

Stepping away from her father's embrace she inspected him carefully, searching for any signs of abuse by the cruel guards that continually beat upon the strong willed man. Sighing in minute relief, Bulma offered a weary smile before leaving his side to acquire her planned schedule for the day. Glancing at it quickly she stuffed the freshly printed-paper into one of the numerous pockets of her grungy garments. After doing so, she took quick moments before fulfilling the tasks in fear that the guard will accuse her of being lazy.

Hours passed by slowly and Bulma's feet were already sore from the tiring tasks that she was forced to perform. Unfortunately for the young girl a break was not a given choice. There still remained the meager job of both creating the setting of utensils for the royals dinner, then afterwards collecting the stacks of dishes and used silverware that was a sure result of the meal.

Complaints of how lazy the royal family had become were harbored within her fiery mind, just as each infuriated thought sparked fire within her cerulean pools. As setting the table she pondered on the thought of the Prince. Being only 19 the Prince Vegeta had many responsibilities. Though in Bulma's eyes he handled them quite well, besides the fact that she was left with the many responsibilities that would tone his skills of discipline. Possibly even make the pride that she was sure every conceited Prince held more tranquil.

After she had set the table she started to approach the door to leave. Though as she opened one of the large doors, she discovered coal black orbs staring at her menacingly, along with a body of muscled steel. Consequently preventing her from leaving. Shocked, she gasped in the Prince's presence before noticing her fault as she bowed.

He grunted and looked at her with disgust as he told her to rise. She nodded and left the room quickly, though she could feel his cold regard following her as she ambled past the splendor of all the extravagant paintings that expanded across the ceiling above her hurried form. Quickening her pace she finally made it back to the slaves quarters. She sat on the floor, collecting the many thoughts that wiped past her startled mind before she would have to go and collect the dishes from the dinner.

Meanwhile at the table-

Vegeta shook off all thoughts of the blue haired vixen that had just fled from his sight, as he silently approached his seat at the grand expanse of the dinning table, centered in the room . Growling a few choice curses at the absence of the King at the moment. There were matters to discuss and he had no intention of dragging his mother into it as well. His patience was gradually lessoning as time dwindled from the present and into the past of which Vegeta hated to dwell upon. He waited, his agitation of the tardiness edging on his slim barriers of anger.

Entering with, what Vegeta believed to be false, grandiose the King of Vegeta-sei strutted as he approached his son and took a seat at the very front of the table. The young Prince's demeanor darkened at the presence of the man, never would he forgive the foolish being that had once been his father. Though by blood, Vegeta was still bound to the man he scowled at maliciously, he would never consider the King to be warranted of his respect.

"I have a demand to be fulfilled within the next two hours," he said curtly, his scowl never faltering under the scrutinizing stare of the King.

"Oh. And what might that, `demand', be, boy," the King said in an even voice as to not argue with his son.

"A pleasure slave," Vegeta said in short reply, quickly tiring of conversing with the old fool.

The King was shocked as he turned his stare to his son. He then burst out in laughter as he spoke,

"You want a what?! A concubine! You will have none the sort of, eager Prince of Vegeta-sei."

Vegeta shot his father an evil glare, warning the King that the mocking laughter would be fatal on his part. Truth be told, the only reason the King had not died by his hands earlier was the simple fact the Vegeta's mother would be devastated by the act. She had deep feelings for the fool, and therefore was protected by her weaknesses, as Vegeta put it. All emotions were looked down upon by the young prince and never sought out by his veiled soul.

"Do you insist that I should kill you instead," Vegeta growled, his ki starting to whip around his flexing muscles as they began to spasm with anger beneath his toned skin.

They stared at each other for at least a minute before Vegeta felt a ki nearby. He jerked his head to where he felt the ki, looking for its source, just as his mother, the Queen of Vegeta-sei, stood gawking at them. The King mumbled something under his breath as she took her seat. She shot a glance at her husband with a scowl on her face and then abruptly turned to face her son. Vegeta noticed his mother's fury and was surprised since she would usually suppress most of her anger.

"What is this talk of concubines! You shan't defile a woman in that manner, I forbid to submit any Saiyan female's right to reject your advances," she said with the same conviction and passion that inspired her every word and action.

Vegeta's form straightened, broadening his shoulders and puffing out his masculine chest. His eyes, however faintly, had softened under her gaze.

"Very well," Vegeta's baritone voice projected clearly to her awaiting ears.

Nodding both as a respectful and thankful gesture, Queen Loralie narrowed her eyes in anger, directing the scowl that now etched across her burgundy lips towards her mate. Disapprovingly she glared at him, his outburst to their son had nearly cost him his life. Did he not understand the hatred that the young Prince harbored for him? Considering the source, she thought it to be blatantly obvious.

If looks could kill King Vegeta would be 6 feet under. He gulped at his mate's anger. What King Vegeta failed to mention to his son was that there were no longer any concubines in the entire palace. The Queen removed them ALL! She wouldn't have her husband near them and her son even more so. Though King Vegeta was stronger than his mate she had basic rule of him, though no one knew of this except for himself and his mate. Lucky for the King the servants entered the room with trays full of food and began setting them down. Both Vegetas sighed in relief and began eating.

Meanwhile in the slave headquarters-

Bulma sighed in thought of escaping the palace walls. She only wished to return to her home, which no longer existed thanks to the ruthless guards. She glanced over to a small window and tried to breathe in the fresh air. She started to get up knowing that the royals would soon be finished with their dinner. As soon as she got the signal from another slave she began to approach the royal dinning quarters, which needless to say was much more extravagant than that of the slaves.

Meanwhile in the royal dinning room-

After the Queen had her fill she got up elegantly glancing at the two men and left on her way towards her room. Two guards quickly got up to escort her though the King shooed them away as he got up to join her. The young Vegeta watched the two leave and growled beneath his breath. `If she insists that the woman must have the choice of rejection, so be it. It's not even plausible' he thought with ambiguous smirk.

One of the royal guards approached him, disturbing his current thoughts.

"What do you want?!" he snapped.

The guard jumped back before regaining his composure. He grinned at the Prince and his dark eyes showed that he was amused.

"Do not test me with your games, fool, or I'll send you to the next dimension to wipe that smirk off your face!" Vegeta barked, his anger growing.

The guard stopped smiling and hesitantly said, "Sorry sire, I meant no disrespect…it is just I overheard what you and the King Vegeta were speaking about…and…and…well I just thought if you really wanted a concubine then you could just take a slave girl, umm…sire."

The young Prince was intrigued though shuddered at the thought of the hideous slave girls that were in the palace, "How dare you demote my status in saying a hideous slave deserves my attentions!" he snapped at the guard.

The guard gulped and tried to respond softly,

"Well…umm…sire…there is one who is very beautiful one and she isn't really dirty…sire, nothing a short bath won't change…"

The Prince stopped in thought and tried to think of who was referring of…suddenly it hit him, `He's talking about the blue haired girl…yes he must be' he thought to himself.

The guard saw that he was taking a liking to the idea and so he quickly spoke up before the Prince's mood could change,

"Yep she's quite a looker! She has a major crush on you to so it shouldn't be hard." He chuckled.

Vegeta turned to the guard surprised by the last comment,

"Are you suggesting that I can't lure a woman in willingly? I'm the Saiyan no Ouji for Gora's sake, don't flatter yourself with false beliefs."

`My! Does the prince have pride or what!' the guard thought to himself though made no remark in response to what he had just said.

Vegeta briefly thought before he tuned towards the guard, "Why is that a challenge?"

The guard abruptly responded, "No of course not sire!" apparent fear dripped with every word.

The prince simply smirked at the guards haste response before sending him away. The guard quickly left the room and shut the doors behind him before the prince could change his mind on letting the guard live. Vegeta then just waited for the blue haired beauty to come to the dinning room since he knew that she would. After all, that was her job.

Bulma approached the two large doors that led into the dinning room tiredly. She was just glad that this was her last task before she could retire back to her room, which really isn't much of improvement at all. Though at least she would be able to rest in her room. She pushed the right hand door open and walked in muttering something about how the royals don't appreciate anything. She stopped at the one side of the table and began collecting dishes and silver ware. She felt a soft breath caressing her neck.

She slowing turned only to find herself curiously lost in dark onyx eyes. Her light blue eyes could only fall deeper into his gaze. She felt her heart beginning to falter under his touch, skipping beats before hastening in pace as the heat between them started to build. He drew back her hair away from the soft skin of her flushed cheeks. Bulma wasn't sure if it was reality or just living a fantasy. His lips brushed against hers as he started to kiss her.

Suddenly she felt his tongue in her mouth; alarmed she pushed him away. The Prince was taken aback by her abrupt movement and stumbled a little. Bulma stared forward stunned by the previous advances the Prince had directed upon her. Her sapphire eyes collided with the coal black gaze of the Prince, anger evident in his fathomless depths. The anger dissipated and he once again approached her, only to be pushed away once again as he put his hands on her waist. The Prince was now furious and it was obvious. In his rage he looked to her,

"Insolent woman, dare you mock me with your actions," Vegeta ground out in a dangerously low whisper.

Bulma was frightened though kept her strong composure, "Dare you mock me with your own? I'm no whore, your highness," she spat indignantly, "Never assume me for one," she continued in a clipped tone.

Vegeta's face contorted with the newfound rage within his being. Defiance was not tolerated in his presence, though never had any directed it openly towards him. Yet, here he was, being mocked by a slave.

"Do not assume that because of my interest in your body that you will not pay for your insolence," he growled, "And you shall pay dearly," he promised snidely.

Vegeta stormed out of the room, making the strong willed slave get out of his way. Though just before he passed her Bulma stretched her leg out in attempt to trip him. He nearly fell to the ground though caught the door lever. As he walked through the halls he just couldn't believe what just happened `Defiance to the crown, is one thing, but open defiance to me is insufferable. The whore will pay with her life!' he thought bitterly.

Bulma roared, venting the rage that swelled within her being. Hastily she got up and gathered the dishes as she was instructed to do. She simply had to escape from anything that would remind her of the previous events. Quickly collecting all the silver ware and dishes she ran to the kitchen and dropped them off just before she reached her small room. She snuggled to the one corner and rested her head on the hard floor as she cried herself to sleep.

The next morning-

Bulma awoke to the sound of gossip filling the palace. It was said that a slave girl had defied the Prince, resulting in the sentence that had been passed earlier that morning. After meeting up with Bulma's father she hugged him dearly for she knew whom that young slave girl was, herself.

She figured the Prince's threat hadn't been idle, though she hadn't guessed that her heated tongue would cost her, her life. Bulma explained everything that had transpired to her father and made mention of the sexual advances that Prince had taken, though none other than her father believed her claims. A guard entered the slave quarters that evening and carried Bulma away...to her death! She was led to a dark room that had no light what so ever.

She was sure it was going to be her last night though to her surprise a young woman entered the room asking to retrieve Bulma. Though what was even more shocking is that the guards let her! Bulma was then led to the Queen of Vegeta-sei's room. It had red lace curtains that opened to two grand windows. There was a small desk with some ink and old fashion paper. Almost like a love letter stationary. Three huge dressers filled the room off to each side. There was a beautiful display of fine art from across the entire world. The room was filled with the scent of roses and the bed fit perfectly with this theme. With a drape made of lace that swung down from each bedpost to meet the soft bed. Bulma's mouth gapped open at the amazing site.

She turned to see the Queen Loralie standing before her. She wore a violet dress with gold sashes and lace curving around her body. Topped of with a beautiful golden crown. The Queens hair shaped her face perfectly, each ebony strand lightly flowing down the elegant dress. Bulma bowed in her presence and to Bulma's shock the Queen curtsied back to her! Bulma looked up as she heard the Queen's voice,

"My dear child, I know of my son's doings and I apologize for him. For this I shall let you live. I cannot let you free though I'm releasing you to Lord Zaldar. You shan't receive excessive mistreating there and shall be kept busy nonetheless. I wish you well." The Queen spoke softly.

Bulma was unsure what to say but with her joy she leaped at the Queen and embraced her in a hug.

"I don't know how to thank you! Thank you." Bulma bubbled.

"Be a strong Saiyan," the Queen informed with a familiar smirk, "Be a woman worth mentioning, like me."

Realizing that she was hugging the Queen she quickly let go of her and curtsied. The Queen smiled and wished her luck once more before sending her off to Lord Zaldar's estate.

Meanwhile throughout the palace-

The entire palace believed that the slave girl had been killed and so continued on with their business. The other residents of the palace may have forgotten about the girl, though Prince Vegeta would never... just as her father wouldn't as well. Believing that his daughter had been killed just because the Prince wished to keep his pride intact infuriated the old slave. He wanted to attack the Prince every time he saw him though he for filled his daughter's last wishes, and that was for him to live on and avoid conflict. So, her father did as asked and continued with his harsh life as a palace slave. Though his good nature would only last a few years…