Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ tHe DeStInY oF ChAlLeNgE ❯ Shards of Thy Heart, Pain of Thou Love... ( Chapter 18 )

The Destiny of Challenge

~Disclaimer- Obviously I do not own DBZ! But I own this story and the writing is my own as well!

~Author's Note- Hey everyone! I see you're using my own words against me lol, you + review = update...well since you've discovered the equation o.0 …. Here is the next chapter!!!! For those reviewers that have submitted their opinions, this is your chapter. You guys are the only reason I wrote this so I dedicate this chapter to you ^_^

Chapter 18~ Shards of Thy Heart, Pain of Thou Love…

Crystal rivulets silently flowed from her swollen eyes, slowly cascading down her flushed cheeks. She no longer wailed, or sobbed in his name, only cried to her hearts content, until the forlorn moisture was no more. She embraced the silence that surrounded her motionless form, letting the peaceful winds flow past. Her shoulders didn't slump under the pressure of the ache in her heart; rather they were placed back in a regal posture of control. Nor did her delicate fingers collapse in wonder. They were placed neatly in her lap, perhaps for no better placement.

The impact of what she had discovered upon entering the room, apparently was devastating to her fragile heart of porcelain. Tainted anger encompassed her thoughts, but unbearable pain clawed at her unprotected heart. How could she have been so naïve? What had she really expected from the Prince and his insufferable pride?

How could she have subjected herself to such pain?

She knew the answer to her question. It was as simple as saying his name, yet as complicated as answering her plea of why. Why had she fallen for him? There was no logic to the situation. Surely you wouldn't fall prey to emotions for one that had wished for your death only years before. Never would she forget that fateful day, nor when she vowed her vengeance against the Prince of her own people. Not one of her memories lead up to this time, this day, nor this moment. Though in reality, she hadn't expected it to. All that was certain now, was the simplistic promise to never to cry for `him' again. A promise, unbeknownst to her, would be broken...possibly shattered just as her raw heart was now.

The morning light still radiated from the suns, reaching out to her with their translucent hands, casting shadows on the features that were hidden from their gaze. Though the blazing heat was phenomenal, it did little to distract her from her thoughts. Moments echoed in the distance of her mind and faint memories flashed. All seemed hopeless to her sapphire orbs that searched the garden setting she sat in. She wouldn't allow the Prince more than he'd already gained, she wouldn't grant him the pleasure to revel in her pain. The resolve of her will and pride started to take root within her darkened thoughts, giving a logical spine to her disoriented state. The shards of her heart, of her unforgettable emotions were slowly mended with the ice of deceit, and the will of her soul. A placid expression conquered her pain stricken face. She would remain a woman of strength, eternally a being of the passionate will that raged within. His mistakes would not be her own, and with that thought in mind she rose to her feet, gently padding away from the garden that had granted her comfort.

"I play by the rules," she muttered with finality, before disappearing into the few shadows that remained in the estate.

(Her words pertain to what she had said to Vegeta earlier- "Rule #1: Never love the enemy" from the last chapter)

* * * * * * *

Dumbfounded, he stared at her, unwillingly thinking over her refusal.

"Must I reiterate the term `Get lost', for you," Nakilia snarled indignantly.

"The task is simple enough, why must you exaggerate it so," he replied sharply, his fists clenching tightly together.

"Don't try and repress me with overpriced words, Yamcha," Nakilia growled fiercely, seething at his idiocy.

"Getting that- that whore of a man permanently away from my Bulma, is most certainly worth the cost," Yamcha snapped righteously.

"I'll never pose as that whore!"

A huff of agitated breath was her only reply.

"Don't test me 3rd class, you're treading on dangerous grounds," Nakilia warned, viciously showing her barred teeth.

"2nd," he corrected astounded.

The look in her outraged eyes made him shudder with a knowing fear, immediately making his narrow mind alter his approach.

"But why," Yamcha sobbed, "Why now? After we've come so far? This would be the end of it."

"I'll deceive that bitch, but I'll never double cross `him' with some facade," Nakilia clarified softly.

"I haven't the gull to take him on with lies, whether it be past or present," she chuckled half-heartedly.

"Fine, milady," Yamcha mumbled, trying to repress the mocking voice he wished to use.

"How quaint, now be a good little boy and stop tormenting me with your foolish requests," Nakilia taunted menacingly.

Taking the warning, Yamcha left the Lady to her own devices.

`My plan won't require her anyhow,' Yamcha thought sinisterly as he walked towards the slave's sleeping quarters, `I have a much better candidate...she'll fit the form all too perfectly.'

Nakilia still stood, staring distantly about the small room, commonly used for sending letters and such, a post office if you may. A delighted smile graced her lips as wicked thoughts rampaged within her mind. She never intended for the blue haired wench to live, and she never believed in leaving loose ends. Vegeta would be hers, and she would be queen, there was no doubt about that...

* * * * * * *

Vegeta began to stumble over his thoughts, corroding his pride like a swift tide of guilt. Such emotions were foreign to his distant heart, and his flaring eyes of hatred. A hatred he had thought he held for all, yet here he was now, trying to contemplate his options over some silly woman. He hated her, for making him feel this way, for trying to create some soft creature out of his heart of stone. Darkness had always hooded his thoughts, and only actions beneficial to himself were deemed worthy, but what of now? Why did he care?

The answer was simple... he didn't.

Perhaps the reasoning behind his raging conflict within was because the onna was leading herself to believe falsely-hoods. It was possible that she had opened his mind to alternative thought processes, namelessly not only concerning himself, and possibly she had chipped away at his dark heart, but she had not broken him. He refused to believe it. Beneath the layers he had developed over the torturous years of his life, she would discover, was only a hollow core, filled with the darkness that veiled his soul. His heart was no enlightenment, it was his deepest self in its darkest form, and Vegeta, wouldn't have it any other way. He was no innocent, and he knew it, but why didn't the onna? Was she so blind with infatuation?

He smirked at the thought.

The euphoric vixen was trouble, of this he was sure, but what kind of Saiyan would he be, if he didn't live up to the challenges that practically begged for him to overcome. He was never one to forfeit his pride, but what if it was for the greater accomplishment? It had never occurred to him before...

`What would the old fool do?', Vegeta thought distastefully.

"Nothing," he growled, as he wondered down the halls...in search for a certain onna.

* * * * * * *

Walking with feminine grace in cat-like strides, she strode into the room confidently. Her head turned, letting her ebony eyes roam over her surroundings carefully, seeking for any sign of her mate. Still none. Her cape whipped about her, clinging onto her thighs as it was lured by her movement. Patience was never one of her strong aspects, obvious as her dark orbs narrowed in agitation. Where was the insolent man?

Growling she exited the throne room, continuing her search for her mate.

"The damn bastard," she snarled, scaring a servant maiden that was in the expanse of the hall.

"Oh," a low voice inquired from behind. "Who might that be," the voice purred with the timber of his voice.

"Vegeta," she spoke in a sultry taunt, turning to face her mate.

His smirking face met her disapproving eyes as she promptly punched him in the gut. Coughing several times, he waited for his lungs to suck in air once more.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were avoiding me," Loralie spat accusingly.

"If that's what your woman intuition tells you," he snapped mockingly, "then it deceives you."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

"Then I don't trust the King's judgment," she chuckled, watching his face contort in anger. "Why not pass another," she suggested, pausing shortly, "As your Queen, I demand it."

"As your King, I reject it," he said proudly.

"I don't tolerate insolence, Vegeta," she warned snidely.

"Then perhaps, I wish to face punishment," he growled sensually.

"If it suits you," she responded huskily.

A devilish smirk curved his lips as his eyes inspected his mate's slim figure, donned in the royal battle armor. Somewhat dazed he watched her generous hips sway as she walked away, every movement persuading his mind to flex to her every whim.

Wait... `WALKING AWAY!?!', his mind barked furiously.

"Where are you going," he roared in a demanding voice.

"To the training facility, of course," she said leisurely, slowly continuing down the hall.

"Don't tell me you've already forgotten, my King," she taunted in mock surprise. "Or perhaps you're just trying to avoid punishment."

Growling profusely, he stalked towards his private training facility, in tow of his infuriating mate.

"Damn onna," he snarled to himself.

"Now, now, Vegeta," a husky voice scolded, "Don't be sore over a battle you're sure to loose."

"We'll see," he snarled marching hastily after her.

* * * * * * *

Vegeta let out a huff of breath as he passed the same hallway for the sixth time. Growling profusely, he took to the air, the cool wind lapping at his flesh like splinters of ice. His ebony orbs darted about, searching for any sign of the onna that had been tormenting his thoughts all day. Night had fallen, slowly embracing the light, until it yielded to its satin sheet of darkness. Vegeta's breath was slow and collective as he silently flew back to the ground, softly touching down onto the stone walkway. His flares of coal black spikes blended with the darkness that spread its clutches about the land, just as his dark eyes burned with intensity to overcome the rivaling elements. Walking past several expanses of beautiful gardens, and lavish courtyards, he continued wondering in search of her.

He let his ki rest at the pit of his being, rumbling with each stride he took. All tranquility fled as he turned his sharp gaze at muffled noises from afar. Of to his side, within an extravagant courtyard, two beings immediately came to view. They were entwined within each other's clutches, their bodies moving rhythmically to meet the other. He would have scoffed, and simply continued on, if it hadn't been for the woman that was courting some unworthy male. It was her. Her blue silken strands cascading down her exposed neck, clinging to her shoulders from the exertion of making love. The back of her flushed body faced him, leaving the lustful expression he was sure she wore to his imagination. For this he was thankful, though it did little to sooth the ache within. He was literally stunned; not one muscle even flinched under the strain of gravity that suddenly seemed to be tugging on him. Gripping at his heart.

Deceit.

It was a simple term, but never had it meant so many things. A broken gasp fled his mouth, his heart finally starting to beat again. It had stopped. Just as his lungs had failed to function within that split moment. He recognized the man `she' was now willingly courting, it was the scandalous Yamcha. Nothing could quail the hatred that swarmed within his soul, igniting a fire that blazed like the pits of hell. Never had he felt such raw power reach his finger tips, the energy electrifying with the jolts that erupted from his being. Though it could not defeat the flood of pain, the oceans of loss, or the ache that throbbed in his chest. What had she done?

He dare not seek her ki, not being able to bare the fluctuating bursts that surely rocked her body. He could hear his minds distant pleas, that perhaps it wasn't her. But there was only one with soft blue locks, and pale heavenly skin. Bulma. His body convulsed at her name, and he then knew,

Never again, would he fall prey to the pain that coursed through his every vein, every thought, and every emotion.

With a burst of energy he took off into the distance, letting the darkness that enveloped him bring minimal comfort. He wished to tear every vital organ from Yamcha's body, simply to reveal the foul existence he truly was into the light of the universe. To expose the traitorous being beneath the mildly handsome face.

Yet, she had chosen him.

No longer could he bear to be trapped within her presence, ever again. He fled, letting his instincts for survival lead him away, for he could not withstand the pain and monumental anger that permeated his being, his very core.

Yet worst of all, he couldn't even muster one hateful thought of the onna...only pain resurrected in her wake.

She had deceived him; just as she had so thought he'd done to her.

He swore he could almost feel the tatters of his dark heart splinter into jagged shards of hate, of pain - ultimately of untimely love.

A/N

YOU + REVIEW = UPDATE ---care to try the formula, and I promise results ^_^

…Ahem…check out my other fan fiction, `Yield to My Heart', I just updated it as well and it has a GREAT PLOT!!! Also, another story is coming out, from moi, and it's going to be about Bulma, unknowingly, entering the Mafia under awkward circumstances o.0 muwhahahaha