Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The King and Queen Diaries ❯ Bachiatari ( Chapter 6 )

Author's Note: Ok! I'm sorry it took so long for me to update this story, but mm.org wouldn't let me log in for a while, else it would have been posted about a week ago! Please forgive me! There are going to be some great chapters coming up...I had such an evil idea that I swear I laughed insanely and I called my friend just to tell him how evil I was. Lol. Enjoy!

 

 

 

Chapter Six: Damned (Bachiatari)

 

 

It was hard to receive any information on the planet when they had no way of communicating with the outside world.

 

They were trekking through a huge, towering forest, had no idea where they were, and they could still hear bombs going off in the distance. Sometimes they could even feel a slight tremble from the ground, and it made the horses nervous, not to mention the men.

 

Vegeta had sent two of his generals ahead into the old, dark woods, hoping to see if they could find any town or any form of life. The group of about fifty men and one woman were dirty and tired, and to top it off, they had no idea where they were.

 

The entourage stopped every half hour to check on the unconscious Queen, but there were no signs of any improvement. The King frantically pushed his men through the never-ending forest at the fastest pace they could attain, but it was hard to work through the foliage and trees with an injured and possibly dying woman in tow.

 

They had created a stretcher out of two long and sturdy branches, roped them together, and tied an old dirty blanket in between the branches so that the Queen would have something comfortable to lie on. The makeshift stretcher was tied to Turles' saddle, for Vegeta did not want Bulma anywhere near her Royal Guard, and that included her Captain. He was not pleased with Bardock at all, let alone the two idiots who had been in charge of her during the attack.

 

Turles rode beside his King, and noticed that he looked down at his prone wife every other minute. It irritated him to no end that Vegeta, whom he had thought was the toughest Saiya-jin that he had ever met, had a spot so soft in his heart that it was like mush. It was disgusting, but at the same time, Turles could not help but feel odd about how his King could feel so much about one person.

 

Vegeta glanced at his thoughtful Captain, and then looked down at his unresponsive wife. “Is there something wrong?” he asked quietly, maneuvering his horse carefully through the thorny bushes and jutting roots. It was starting to get dark out; they were going to have to set camp up soon if his two generals did not return with news of shelter.

 

Turles glanced sideways at him. “No, your highness. I was just thinking, that is all.”

 

Vegeta nodded and looked up through the tops of the trees to see the sky darkening remarkably fast. He sighed, wishing that his generals had made it back in time. “It will be night soon. Order the men to set up camp.” He paused. “And give the Queen Captain Bardock's tent, the bastard.”

 

Turles nodded, smirking in amusement at the King's sick sense of humor. “Of course, your highness.” He lifted his hand and the group halted, the horses snorting and stomping.

 

“Set up camp, men! We will be resting for the night.” He then set out to find Bardock and tell him the wonderful news.

 

Immediately the men dismounted and spread out to do various chores. Men searched for wood and stones for a fire pit, others searched for food and water in the area, and the rest set up the tents.

 

Vegeta surveyed the activity, and ordered the horses to be tied up just in case they might bolt. Several of his guards tended to the Queen and she was immediately set up in Bardock's tent. Oddly enough, the older Saiya-jin did not seem put out by it.

 

It was an hour later when a large bonfire was started. Three men returned with slaughtered wild pigs, and a few with various other wild game. A group of men arrived with their canteens filled with spring water, and dispensed them around the group. A spit was set up and the animals were cooked and dispensed as well.

 

Vegeta stood by and watched as his men sat around the fire and laughed and hooted at foul jokes and funny stories. Turles, always the solitary one, stood a few feet away as well, but was also keeping an eye out.

 

It was a little while later when the two generals that Vegeta had sent out returned, their horses blown and their bodies looking weary in their saddles. Vegeta could tell that they had searched hard, but when he saw the looks on their faces, he knew that they had not found any shelter.

 

“Your highness,” General Yunaka panted, bowing quickly. Vegeta nodded for him to continue. “We found nothing, sir. We rode for miles and miles. There is not anything but woods. However, we did hear bombing in the distance, so that might mean there is a town nearby.”

 

The King looked thoughtful. He waved them away with his dirty, gloved hand after a moment. “You are dismissed. Get something to eat and drink, and go rest.”

 

The men nodded, and joined the group of soldiers around the enormous fire.

 

Vegeta sighed. His wife was currently resting in Bardock's tent nearby, and it was being guarded by another one of his generals. Bardock stood close as well, and Vegeta's eyes continuously wandered over there to see if everything was all right.

 

Everything was screwed up.

 

His wife needed severe medical attention. He had no idea what was going on with the planet because they had no communication devices. For all he knew, they were being overtaken by some alien species, and the Saiya-jin race was being slaughtered. Well, at least he was alive, he thought sarcastically.

 

Vegeta made the decision then to send out four men to find something, anything, to communicate with. He told Turles of his plans, and he agreed.

 

Vegeta gathered four stout men and sent them in four different directions. He told them that if at all possible, find something that they could communicate with to any of the palaces, or even something so they could reach the troops out in space. He knew that if they were being attacked at a mass scale, he would need manpower, and that was exactly what he did not have.

 

Vegeta continued to stand there late into the night, unable to sleep with his troubling thoughts. He contemplated their situation and what they were going to do, and came up with nothing but a bleak outlook.

 

He closed his eyes. “We may have to leave Vegeta-sei.”

 

Turles, who had been leaning against a moldy old tree that was twenty times his size, half asleep and totally out of it, jerked awake and stared at Vegeta. “What?”

 

“If we are being attacked mass-scale, Turles, we do not have the manpower. This enemy might be so much more advanced than us...already we have been hearing of cultures developing new weapons that fire at long ranges. How are swords going to be able to compete with that? We are being attacked by something, the Queen is dying for all we know, and we have no clue where we are. Our armies are in space, on other planets, and all we have here are palace guards, old men, women, and children! The men that are trained to fight in the army are sent out into space on the stations docked on enormous pieces of rock. We hardly have anyone to fight for us.”

 

Turles looked away into the dark forest. The men were falling asleep and he could hear the night animals stirring around the camp. “Are you saying we are doomed?”

 

Vegeta snorted. “Hardly. We just need to find a communication device. I need to see if any of the other palaces on Vegeta-sei have been left intact, that way we will have a base from which to begin preparations for defense. Once we get a hold of anyone...anything, we will be better off by far.”

 

Turles nodded. “You are right. But now, I think what is most important is getting your wife medical attention.”

 

Vegeta looked startled at his words. Maybe it was because Turles always kept to himself about personal matters, for he was so entirely devoted to his planet. Hearing him say something besides the situation at hand was less important than his alien wife was shocking to say in the least.

 

He could not help but chuckle. “Yes, that is true. But you know there is no one qualified to treat her injuries.”

 

Turles shrugged as if his words were unimportant. “Someone could at least set her fingers. Anyone can do that. Most of them are just dislocated, but there are two or three that are broken. All you have to do is put them back into place and tie her fingers around a stick or something. It will have to do for now until we can get her to a regeneration tank.”

 

Vegeta's train of thought was interrupted by a sickening wail. All of the men who were not asleep jerked towards the direction of the tent that housed the Queen, and stared as they listened to the horrifying screams coming from within the tent.

 

Turles swore that he had never seen his King move so fast. It did not matter if that last scream had not sounded like Vegeta's name, all that mattered was that not a single man could stand the heart-crushing wails coming from the Queen, and that included her husband.

 

Vegeta ripped the guards away from the tent and was instantly inside. There was a small lantern lit beside the bed for light, but he wished that it had been dark from the appalling sight that he saw before him.

 

Her eyes were squeezed shut painfully, tears pouring down her bloodied face as her mangled hands moved through the air, as if she was fighting an invisible enemy. Her bruised mouth opened and she emitted a ghastly wail that literally made Vegeta fall to his knees in anguish for her pain. He felt like she was ripping his heart out with her cries, and he did not know what to do. It sounded like she was being beaten to death.

 

One of the guards entered the tent. “Your highness, Turles has requested to bring water and whatever supplies he can find so we can tend to her injuries as much as possible.”

 

Vegeta nodded quickly as he moved beside his wife to try to grab a hold of her flailing hands. She screamed so loud and so brutally that he thought for a second that her vocal cords would give out on her, but they held. She just laid there and sobbed pathetically as he held her arms as delicately as he could, trying not to touch her hands.

 

“Bulma, wake up. You are safe, no one is going to hurt you!” he tried to frantically tell her, but she was unresponsive. She just continued to fight him, until she began whimpering.

 

“Get...get off me! Who...who are you! I never did anything to you!”

 

Vegeta felt the blood drain from his face as she continued speaking in her unconscious state. “Please, I beg you, do not hurt me!” She began sobbing again. “What are you planning on doing?” She screamed seconds later. “Oh, gods it hurts so bad! Someone please save me!”

 

Vegeta could not do anything but hold her down as she thrashed around wildly. He tried talking to her, but it just did not seem to get through. What had happened to her? “Bulma, you need to wake up now. You are just dreaming, nothing is happening to you. You are safe. You are here with me.”

 

“My baby...” she whimpered. “Vegeta...Vegeta, please save me....”

 

Then she went silent. Vegeta felt his whole body become still, so still that he swore that even his heart stopped. By the gods, all she had wanted was for him to save her...and he had not been there. He had promised her—promised her that she would never get hurt again—and he had failed.

 

He felt like dying. But no, death was too good for him. He deserved torture for the rest of his life. He had completely and utterly failed at being her husband and mate.

 

 

 

**********

 

 

 

“Your highness, you need to set her fingers.”

 

Vegeta looked wearily at Turles. He shook his head sadly and then looked away. “I cannot do it.” I do not deserve to touch her.

 

His Captain sat down on the opposite side of the Queen. He brought the lantern closer to his elbow so he could get a better look at her. He flinched at the sight, but it was not from her injuries.

 

“You know, from the looks of it, she is not that bad. She is just covered in blood, dirt, and filth. If we cleaned her up, she probably would not look so bad.”

 

Vegeta looked back at him hopefully, but the small ray of hope died quickly. “That still does not fix her fingers...and whatever else is wrong with her.”

 

“After we fix her fingers she will be considerably better, your highness.” Turles then looked at his King closely. He looked depressed...severely depressed. With the way his face was so dark, the way his powerful shoulders were slumped...he just looked pathetic. “What is wrong, your highness?”

 

Vegeta became defensive quickly. “Nothing, you idiot.” At the insulted look on Turles face, he sighed audibly. “Keep your trap shut about this to anyone, do you understand?”

 

Turles smirked. “I never thought I was asking for a death wish, your highness.” Then he chuckled. “Besides, you're the only tolerable person to talk to on this miserable planet.”

 

No hint of amusement was visible on Vegeta's face. Turles quickly became serious. “Something is really wrong, I take it.”

 

Vegeta looked down at his wife. She was sleeping fitfully now. After her outburst and horrid screams, she seemed to be sleeping a lot calmer.

 

“She...she said some things, Turles. Whoever attacked her...she kept saying `get off me'. She said that it hurt so bad...then she said something about our child. What would cause her to say such things, Turles?” If something irreparable has happened to her...I will never forgive myself.

 

The other Saiya-jin was silent. During the silence, fresh water in a canteen arrived, along with someone's shirt torn to shreds for bindings. Vegeta heard the distinct sound of twigs being snapped outside the tent, and a handful of them were delivered moments later.

 

Turles began washing his wife's face gently. Oddly enough, Vegeta did not feel like killing the man. He trusted Turles with his life, and if he trusted him with his life, he trusted him with his Queen. He was actually one of the very few Saiya-jins with whom he could talk to without having to worry about rumors leaking out. He was happy that Turles had finished as one of the top two men in the tournament, therefore automatically setting him in a Captain's position. He almost considered him a friend...whatever that meant.

 

They were silent for quite some time, both of them cleaning her as delicately as two warriors could. Vegeta forced himself to clean her arms and what skin was revealed from the opening of her dress at her chest and throat, while Turles bathed her face and picked out the filth and grime in her hair.

 

Vegeta's main concern was making her as comfortable as possible, and he looked at Turles briefly before he began unbuttoning the front of his wife's dress. Turles said not one word as her ruined dress was pealed off and she was left in her tight, binding chemise that only went to the top of her knees and left very little to the imagination. The soiled dress was tossed into a dark corner, along with her muddied slippers.

 

“The wound on her head and her fingers...which should we do first?” Turles asked, watching his King inspect his wife for any more injuries. When nothing but little scratches were found, Vegeta began washing her legs and feet. He frowned suddenly. Was it just him, or was Vegeta acting hesitant when it came to touching his own wife?

 

“Her heard first. But let me finish bathing her before you start.”

 

Turles sat back and watched Vegeta and his wife. He had always admired Bulma for her smarts and attitude. She never let anyone push her around, especially her husband. She had one hell of a sharp tongue; he knew that from personal experience. She was beautiful, even though the word was too plain to describe her exotic beauty. She was thin, but not overly so, and she was pale, but not to the point where she looked like a ghost. Seeing her lying there, looking like she was on the brink of death, made him sad. Sadness was a disgusting emotion, but at this time, it was understandable. Something so stunning did not deserve this pain.

 

He did not know where it came from, but it came pouring from his mouth anyhow. “Your wife is beautiful, your highness.”

 

Oddly enough, he did not find himself dead. Instead he heard Vegeta chuckle. “You and every man between the ages of ten and one hundred think the same, Turles.” Then Turles found himself pierced with the King's black eyes. “I hope you are not thinking perverse thoughts over there. I might just have to kill you.”

 

Turles waved his hands in front of him, not picking up on the hint of amusement in Vegeta's voice. “No, no! I was just thinking about how much of a lucky Saiya-jin you are.”

 

Vegeta smiled faintly. “Yes, I am.”

 

After he was done washing her legs, Vegeta helped Turles unwind the old bandage and find the congealed wound on the back of her head. They both cringed at the wide gash once they finally managed to part her long hair. It was caked with blood and gore, not to mention dirt and whatever other kind of filth you would find in an old as hell mass of tunnels.

 

They bathed the lesion to the best of their ability. Vegeta held her head in his lap and kept her hair out of Turles' way as he used his knife and fingers to pick out the dirt and grime. Once the area around the wound was cleaned as best as he could manage, they wrapped one of the longer strips of cloth around her head because it had started bleeding again.

 

They sighed with relief when she continued to remain asleep. All they really cared about is that she remained unconscious long enough for them to set her broken and dislocated fingers.

 

But of course that did not happen. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared right up into the face of Turles. She blinked.

 

“Kakarott?”

 

Turles shook his head. “No, your highness. It is Turles, the Captain of the King's guard. Do you feel any pain?”

 

Perhaps that had been the wrong thing to say, for the moment he mentioned the word pain, she groaned, and then whimpered as she reached for her head. Instantly her hands were restrained, and her eyes widened in horror. “Let go of me!” she screamed hysterically, struggling fiercely. Turles was kneed in the face as Vegeta held her arms as still as he could, not wanting her to injure herself further.

 

“Vegeta! Vegeta, help me! He is attacking me!”

 

“Bulma, I am right here! Calm down!”

 

She closed her eyes and began crying as she continued to fight him. “Please, I will do anything. Please, just do not hurt me anymore.”

 

Turles came back to the side of his Queen. She began babbling nonsense, and the Captain looked at his King in confusion. His look went unnoticed, however, for Vegeta was staring at his wife in disbelief.

 

“What is wrong, your highness? What is she saying? It does not sound familiar to me.”

 

Vegeta shook his head as his wife's eyes closed and she slowly began to stop struggling. “I think...I think she is speaking in Anausian. I...I never heard her speak her native language before.” Vegeta looked up into the dark face of his fellow Saiya-jin. “Maybe her state is just so shocking, she is switching back to what she knows best. Almost like instinct.”

 

Turles nodded as Vegeta set her arms back down to her sides. She was asleep again.

 

“We should set her fingers now, before she wakes up again, your highness.”

 

The Captain watched as Vegeta shook his head. “How can you expect me to put my own wife through pain? I cannot do it.” I can hardly stand touching her as it is. I do not deserve her.

 

Turles frowned at him. “Your highness, you can be upset at your wife's condition, but you do not have to act pathetic.”

 

Vegeta growled at him, ready to send his fist into the other Saiya-jin's cocky face. “Since you opened your big, stupid mouth, I order you to do it.”

 

Turles' lips thinned into a straight line. “Yes, your highness.”

 

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest, the word pissed written all over his face. “That is what I thought, Captain.”

 

Turles got to work on her fingers. Vegeta had cleaned them pretty well; the only problem was that there was very little light. He brought the lantern closer to his side, and took hold of her forefinger on her left hand. This one was just dislocated, so he made quick work of it by pulling on it, which set it back into the socket. The sickening crack made Vegeta flinch, but it did not even make Turles so much as blink.

 

He went through all her dislocated fingers, all four of them, before he fixed her broken fingers, which totaled three in all. Seven out of her ten fingers were injured. Turles told Vegeta with a chuckle that she seriously had to have been smashing something or someone to do so much damage to herself.

 

Once Turles got to her broken fingers, Vegeta handed him several twigs and strips of cloth to tie them into place. The Captain could tell that the King thought the whole situation disgraceful, considering his wife was a Queen and she deserved the best medical attention on the planet. Instead, she was getting soldier-ized treatment, or something that she would receive on a battlefield during a war.

 

Turles did the best that he could, but Vegeta still felt like getting sick when he twisted her fingers violently, pulled them in odd directions, and then jammed them back into their sockets. When he was finally done fixing her fingers, Vegeta banished him from the tent with disgust and told him to go get his wife some food.

 

Turles sighed loudly but did as he was told. He could think of only one reason as to why his King was acting so weird, and it was because of the Queen. The side that his wife evoked in the King was odd indeed.

 

After Turles left, Vegeta tried several times to wake his wife. Her eyelids fluttered, but they never opened. When his Captain returned with more water and a few pieces of dried meat that the other men carried around just in case, Vegeta asked him to rouse the men. When asked why, Vegeta simply told him that he did not want to stay in one place for too long. No one knew where the enemy was, or even if they were still on the planet, so Vegeta was not taking any chances. They needed to keep moving because of this reason.

 

While Turles ordered the men to wake and begin packing their things, Vegeta coaxed some water down his wife's throat. She groaned and tried turning onto her side at one point, but Vegeta held her still. He did not want her moving too much, especially when they still were not sure of all her injuries.

 

When Turles came back to fetch his King and so they could take down the Queen's tent, Vegeta already had Bulma dressed in her filthy gown, for she had nothing else to wear. Once they had her ready for transportation, Turles told his King that they would find someone with an extra set of clothing so she would not have to wear such vile apparel. Vegeta agreed.

 

The men that Vegeta had sent out hours ago had not yet returned. Worry infused him, but he held it at bay so as not to worry his men that his morale was weakening.

 

They headed out into the still-black forest, the sounds of night creatures around them. They kept closely together so no one would be lost, for they were not risking the chance of lighting torches.

 

When morning arrived, they still had not left the forest. They had traveled countless miles, through half of the previous day, half the night, and through to the morning.

 

The outlook was getting worse.

 

But King Vegeta still kept pushing on, unwilling to stop for any breaks. The men were tired, hungry, and worried that something was wrong.

 

If they only knew.

 

 

 

**********

 

 

 

“You fool, I gave you one simple plan, and you could not even complete it? You are unworthy of my time! I could have already taken over if it weren't for your blathering about the bitch Queen and the idiotic King!”

 

The alien paced back and forth, looking down with disgust at the cowering being before him. He was truly pathetic, but he needed him. He had come to them, promising them riches beyond their dreams and a home to call their own, if they only gave him a single woman.

 

Queen Bulma of the Saiya-jins was indeed one of the more enchanting female beings in the universe, but the prospect of the Saiya-jin King, well...having the bastard that had taken over their home world and turned it into industrial trash was worth everything that they were doing.

 

Even if it meant consorting with the Saiya-jins own betraying kind.

 

He had come to them only a few months ago, screaming insanely that he knew the Saiya-jin kingdom's weakness. He knew secrets, all kinds of secrets, and he would tell them all if they destroyed and took over Vegeta-sei, and gave him the Saiya-jin Queen.

 

He had literally begged them to kill the Saiya-jin King; he had been nearly frothing at the mouth with unbearable hatred for the man. He had been wild-eyed, twitching, grasping at his arms as if to hold himself back from committing disgusting atrocities.

 

But who were they to argue when he asked them to kill the Saiyan King Vegeta and take over their planet, along with the whole universe?

 

And what was one little woman?

 

The alien chuckled and flicked his slender finger for the Saiya-jin to rise. “I will give you one more chance. I understand that this Queen is supposedly much stronger than she appears,” he said, looking at the bloodied and disfigured face of the Saiya-jin before him, which was a recent development. He had actually been attractive in a bizarre, monkey sort of way, but he wasn't into Saiya-jins. He was only in to kill them.

 

The Saiya-jin bowed repeatedly before him. The alien smirked. Yes, it was about time someone groveled before the most powerful being in the universe!

 

“I want you to return to Vegeta-sei. Our men are currently taking down all of the major cities and destroying all of the palaces, so they will have nowhere to go if they decide to fight back. The King and Queen have been discovered lost in a large forest about fifty miles north of the city of Jighu. Once it is dark, I want you to steal the King, and bring him to me immediately.”

 

The Saiya-jin's breathing increased. “Alive?”

 

A hand shot out of nowhere, connecting with giving flesh. “Yes, of course alive, you disgusting creature! Now leave!”

 

The Saiya-jin scrambled from the large throne room and disappeared behind the sliding doors.

 

The alien sat his sleek body down into his large chair, where he conducted all of his rulings.

 

Everything was turning out perfectly. After the current King's father had taken over their world years and years ago, their race had been left to traveling throughout space, staying on random planets only long enough to stock up on food and necessities.

 

But they had slowly gotten stronger, had slowly gathered enough technology, enough of both so that they could now show the Saiya-jins that they had messed with the wrong race.

 

Oh, but life was good!

 

 

 

Author's Note: Bwahahaha. Poor Bulma and Vegeta. Just when things start to look up, everything just totally gets screwed. And yes, it's only going to get worse. SOOOOOOO much worse. BWAHAHAHAHA! Review!