Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The King and Queen Diaries ❯ Jinshin'antei ( Chapter 11 )

Author's Note: Sorry I haven't updated for so long! I have just been so busy. But enough of my complaints, on with the story!

 

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Chapter Eleven: Jinshin'antei (Stabilizing)

 

It was so...cold.

 

It hurt to breathe, it hurt to move. Just opening your eyes was agonizing—that is, if you could open your eyes.

 

He had been tortured since the moment he had been brought aboard their “starship”. Tortured in ways the Saiya-jin brain could not comprehend, because the torture was not Saiya-jin.

 

They fed him very little, and let him become so dehydrated that he could not move his tongue in his own mouth. The countless whippings hindered his breathing so horribly at some points that he had almost stopped breathing altogether. His back was no longer there—it was all torn muscle and sinew and his bloodied flesh hanging by a thread. He could feel the blood dripping down his legs as he hung from the chains in the bright, unbearably freezing room...but it would not take long for the red liquid to freeze, something he prayed for every time he was beaten...for the faster he became frozen, the slower his blood flowed, the less he felt, and the greater chance he had to live to the next day.

 

He was constantly beaten within an inch of his life, and then they would keep him dangling on the edge of his very existence until his body finally repaired itself and he eventually brought himself back from the precipice of his demise. However much his body wanted to die, his mind fought it with every speck of willpower it possessed.

 

He considered himself a strong man. He had endured tortures and beatings before—what warrior had not? But this...this was worse than hell itself. It just was not physical torture, it was mental torture as well. Usually after being beaten bloody and barely hanging onto consciousness, he would dangle from his brutal chains in the room where these creatures gathered, and hear everything that was happening in their quest to conquer Vegeta-sei.

 

Their leader—a white, lizard-like creature—sounded eternally frustrated about the futility of taking some of his planet's most formidable cities. He smiled his bloody smile every time the hissing creature screamed about not being able to take Tibernoa, Vegeta-sei's richest and most powerful city. He couldn't even take Constallani, Mulani, Burchan, or Boadecia, and they weren't even nowhere near as big as Tibernoa. He would listen with sick joy every time he heard of any casualties that the white lord had, for it meant that his people were fighting back as best as they could.

 

What little joy that brought, however, was squashed every time he heard of how many towns and villages that the creatures went through and completely destroyed. Versai had been one of the first cities to be taken. He listened with horror as the beings congregated and told their disgusting stories of how they had raped this woman, or killed this child, or burned this town to the ground and left nothing behind.

 

They bragged about taking no prisoners and leaving no survivors.

 

Millions were dying. It reminded him of how many Saiya-jins had died from the plague; it brought back horrible memories of his mother and his father, and of how he had left his young, innocent wife for almost four years in his absolute hatred for her.

 

Thinking of his naïve, pregnant wife was the worst. Of how he had been taken away from her, leaving her by herself in the cruel universe, when she was at her weakest. He knew now that he had protected her too much, had let her be involved in planetary actions too little, because if he had let her join him on occasion, let her learn about politics, teach her about how to really, truly lead and govern a people, then maybe he would not hear these creatures laughing at her futile attempts to save their planet.

 

He gathered information constantly about what Bulma was doing. These beings taunted him with the knowledge of her slow, painful mental breakdown, of how everyone was turning against her, and of how she had no one to protect and care for her. Their leader liked to tell him of how the men made advances on her and she always welcomed them like a loose woman. He liked to tell him about the pathetic army that she was gathering, and about how she was lost in the wilderness and had no idea where she was, and just frolicked about like a whore since she had nothing else to do.

 

He heard this every day for he did not know how long—he lost track of time in only a matter of days. One torture blended into another, leaving a blur of agonizing pain that left him digging into himself so he would know nothing but darkness. The pain would leave, but then his sense of everything would be gone. It was the only way he could survive.

 

He was lying limp in his cruel, skin-chafing chains when he heard the beasts heading towards the gathering room where he was kept for all to see and laugh at. This room was where the lizard lord spent most of his time, just staring at him, an odd smile on his twisted features. He knew of how much the leader of these frozen people hated him and his kind...he spoke of it daily. Of how the former King Vegeta had taken over their planet and killed most of their kind, of how their home had been turned into an industrial trash hole, and what was left of their kind was enslaved or left for dead.

 

What little of their kind that had escaped managed to make it to another planet, a planet that was technologically advanced beyond what the Saiya-jins could even imagine. Weapons that would tear holes through a Saiya-jin's body and then slowly kill them. Machines that could fly and transport large masses of these beings, which meant that it was easier and faster for reinforcements to get to where they needed to go. Protective armor that was hard for a sword to penetrate. The list went on and on.

 

They laughed at the pathetic Saiya-jins and their old ways. Of how they were so simple. Their space travel only managed to transport, and had no weapons of any kind. Of how their cities were so ancient and useless. Of how they taught swordplay and had no other weapons of which to rely on. Of how they were such a shameful race, for they took everything that they wanted, completely uncaring for who or what was suffering. It was time for them to pay.

 

Vegeta lifted his weary head just enough so that he would see the creatures practically slither into the room. Their leader was small, but muscularly compact. He had a long white tail that he liked to curl around his throat almost every day, just to scare him enough into thinking he might kill him that day. Thankfully he never did.

 

He was in a royal fit today. Screaming hysterically, knocking down the beings that were following him, and then kicking them while they were down. He was usually disturbingly quiet, just watching, just listening, but today it looked like he wanted to kill everyone in the room.

 

“Stupid!” he shrieked, throwing a white creature nearly across the room in his anger. The two others were standing together, cowering in fear, papers rattling in their clawed hands.

 

“How dare you lose her?! How dare you?! You had constant surveillance on her, and the moment night falls and the sun rises, you realize she is gone?! Are you an invalid?! How did you manage to do it? Did your men fall asleep or something? Is that what happened?” he snarled, gripping one of the creature's arms and twisting until it broke. Purple blood spurted and oozed around the bone sticking out obscenely from the white flesh. The being screamed and whimpered in pain as he lowered himself to the floor, his head down.

 

“We do not know what happened, my lord!” he pleaded, clearly begging for his life. “First she was there, waiting for her scouts to return, and we started watching the men set up their tents. Night fell, and then we waited all night long like we usually do. When the suns started to rise, she was gone! There was nothing there, not even the evidence of a fire! She must have left right after night fell, and we could not see her leave! We were too far away to hear or see anything!”

 

The creature was dead within the next moment. Vegeta cringed at the sight of so much pale purple blood spraying from the being's neck as their leader sliced it with a dagger that he kept by his side. The other two started shaking violently.

 

The leader turned away from them, his body stiff and the bloodied dagger still held in his clawed hand. His small body was shuddering in visible anger; Vegeta had learned quickly that he had a violent temper and rarely held it in check.

 

He turned around, and Vegeta nearly jumped in his chains when the glare the white being held was directed at him. He stared at him for a few brief seconds, and then sneered as he turned away.

 

“She has obviously found a hiding spot,” he said, sick humor laced through his voice as he walked by the two white beasts that were apparently generals or some sort of military leader. They had stopped shaking so fiercely, but they still looked scared.

 

“The only place she could have gone is Tibernoa. There is nowhere else she could have gone that could hide as many men as she had with her. She is obviously trying to increase the size of her army and find a way to return the Saiya-jin scum from space.”

 

The other two nodded obediently. One of them spoke up as he rattled through some of his papers, looking at some sort of military information. “My lord, if she has the Saiya-jins return from space, we will not be able to withstand their sheer numbers. We have too few—“

 

The dagger that their leader had been flipping in the air and catching was suddenly embedded in the creature's throat. Vegeta let out a sickly laugh as the male hit the floor, but he was thankfully unheard.

 

Their leader jerked around, making him nearly jump again, his purple lips twisted as he stared at Vegeta. “Poor King,” he hissed, and then laughed. “Your little whore of a wife has no idea what she has just done. Running and hiding was the worst thing she could have done, and now she will pay for it!”

 

He turned to the remaining general, unaware of the paralyzed look on Vegeta's face as he said, “Prepare to take Tibernoa.”

 

 

 

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“Oh, gods, Kakarott! They are going to catch us! We cannot make it! I cannot continue with—!“

 

His hand covered her mouth and forcefully dragged her and their three month-old son into the bushes as several of the white aliens flew through the brush and trees on their flying motorized vehicles. The horrendously loud noise the engines made gave them enough time to hide every time they came too close to where they were. But Chichi was tiring, and carrying Goten was getting hard on her.

 

She began sobbing as she clutched Goten to her. “Kakarott, we are not going to make it. I cannot...I cannot keep running like this with Goten. Please...just take the baby and go. Leave me behind.”

 

A fierce look gathered on her husband's face as he seized her arms, nearly shaking her. “Never! I will never leave you behind! I will sacrifice myself to make sure that you make it to Versai before I do anything! Chichi,” he whispered intensely, bringing her and their son in to his arms. He buried his face in her hair, not knowing what else to do.

 

He held them all together as a family for far too short a time before he took Goten from her exhausted arms. He was already carrying a large bag on his back with the supplies that they had managed to gather before their home had been ransacked to find any Saiya-jins living there.

 

Chichi was also carrying a bag, but it was filled with anything that she needed for Goten. They had been running for almost two weeks now, since Vegeta-sei had been first attacked. They were living solely on anything that he caught with his bow and arrow, and Chichi was breast-feeding Goten. Their clothes were ragged and torn, and they were filthy. Goten had cried non-stop for the first few days, and then had stopped when he gotten used to the chilly nights out in the woods.

 

They had run into only one of the white aliens, which had actually been a surprise for the being, for he had been sleeping. If he'd been awake, then Kakarott knew they would all be dead because of the strange weapons that they had. But thankfully, he had been able to slice his throat with his sword, and continue without any more problems.

 

Chichi was also carrying her sword, but he refused to let her use it. He made sure to let her know that he was to do all the work, and she was just to take care of Goten. He needed to take care of her and their child right now; he would feel less like a man if Chichi were to kill someone for their sake.

 

They had traveled nearly the whole continent on their feet. Versai was yet miles away, but they were getting closer. When they got there, they hoped to find Bulma and Vegeta, their only chance for salvation.

 

Unfortunately, they would not find that salvation.

 

 

 

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The night in her room at Tibernoa had been hard. She had thought that since she had slept very little since the invasion had began and had been using a simple blanket to rest on, that she would thoroughly enjoy the thick mattress and warm blankets.

 

But nightmares and odd dreams had plagued her slumber. Dreams of Vegeta and their children, of what was happening to Versai and her people, of Chichi and Kakarott, of Nana back at the palace. She was worrying about so many people...there was just not enough time to think of them all...and she thought of them even when she slept.

 

Not knowing what was happening to the man she loved was tugging the strings in her spirit. She would just lie in her bed, wishing that he were all right, that he was safe and he was healthy, and that he would come back to her soon. She could not help but violently will her love to him, as if just her resolve alone would somehow get to him and tell him that she loved him and that she was safe, for she knew that was what would be most important to him.

 

Today was to be very eventful. As she sat up in the luxurious bed that Hokora and the former King Vegeta had once upon a time slept in, she saw the beaded and shimmering violet dress laid out by her dresser. And then she saw her breeches and shirt lying next to it, clean.

 

When she made her way through the palace halls, she was dressed like a warrior queen. Vegeta's sword was nestled against her hip in its black scabbard; his knives and daggers were strapped against her arms, thigh, calf, and the inside of her riding boot. Her hair was tied up into a ponytail, and she was wearing the white shirt and tan pants that had been given to her from one of Vegeta's guards. She had tucked in her shirt—she was no longer hiding the fact that she was carrying the heir...or heirs.

 

She wondered silently how much longer she would be able to wear pants with her growing girth.

 

Heavily armed soldiers walked through the lavish halls, all nodding to her in respect as she made her way to the rarely used conference room. She had been told to go there in the morning so they could begin right away.

 

When she arrived, all of the men at the table not used to her appearance looked up, all with stunned looks on their faces. She ignored their gawking as she took her spot at the head of the enormously long table, at which she stood and placed both of her hands at the top of the smooth surface. The room was chilled, and the majority of the men did not help the aura of the area. Papers were strewn about the table; charts, maps, and diagrams were set up on easels. The area was set up for strategy and planning. Brolli, Turles, and Bardock sat to her sides, and Lord Haschell sat at the opposite end of the table.

 

“Where do we begin?” she asked, having been thinking of what to do since she had awoken. A few messages were relayed to her about happenings in the middle of the night, one of which disturbed her.

 

“There was a spy spotted in the woods by the front gates. My men reported that he looked to be taking calculations,” Lord Haschell said, standing from the opposite side of the table as he spoke. “Your highness, I am not sure if you are aware of this or not, but we are more than likely going to be attacked sooner or later. And from what we have all gathered from this intelligence, I have a feeling it is going to be sooner than later.” He glanced around the table at the generals that the Queen had brought with her, and added, “They know that she is here, and they are worried that she is going to call the troops from space.”

 

Thoughts ran rapidly through the monarch's head. She knew Tibernoa very little, and she knew even less of how to organize for an attack. She imagined that she would have to prepare the men and completely seal the city from insiders, which meant closing and barring the gates. They would have to make sure that any of the siege weapons they had were readied, and bring the men to the walls for the assault.

 

She imagined that arrows would be effective from a distance. If the enemy were to attack from the ground, then they could use arrows to kill off as many of the aliens as they could before they reached the walls. Once they reached the walls, they would need something that could push them back. What would be effective?

 

“Tell me, my lords. If we were to be attacked by foot soldiers, they would eventually reach the wall, correct?” At their nod, she continued. “What would be an effective tool to use against the enemy to push them away from the wall? You can only use arrows for so long before you have to result to hand-to-hand combat. And this is not including any of their weapons. They themselves might be able to drop off troops right in the middle of the city.”

 

Discussion erupted around the table. Mentions of boiling water or oil being poured down the walls were brought up. The catapults and trebuchets they had within the walls would be valuable when it came to destroying large masses at a distance. They also had cannons along the stone walls surrounding the city. Lord Haschell brought up the point that the walls were extremely strong and would last for a long time against any rams, for they were steel fortified.

 

War strategy was discussed and considered. Bulma was surprised that many of the men asked her questions and offered her advice. She thoroughly conversed with the men closest to her about whether or not they would need to arm the citizenry, for if they were dealt heavy casualties, then they would need backup. Or they could just arm them in the first place, any man who could pick up a sword. Bulma was appalled at the thought of younger men, almost boys, fighting, but then she remembered that she had brought several young teenage boys with her as well. She nodded in heartrending agreement.

 

“If we need to acquire enough soldiers, then we will use whatever man or...child that we have available. I think, however, that we will only use them if we need them,” she said loudly enough for everyone to hear at the table. They all nodded in solemn agreement, for no one wanted to see a child fighting or even killing.

 

“We will begin preparations immediately, your highness,” Lord Haschell said, looking at her closely. She had an odd feeling about her, as if she was not ready for this type of situation. If they were lucky, maybe they would not have to worry about being attacked...but he had known the moment she had stepped through their gates that their chances of being annihilated had just increased tenfold.

 

“Search the city for anyone who is willing to fight. Ready the siege weapons and bar the gates. Distribute whatever weapons and armor you need. While we are doing this, I want the remaining citizens in the city to head towards the safest point. If we are overrun, we can head for the ships in the bay. We can escape that way,” Bulma said, and then nodded to the men at the table. They all nodded back, and promptly dispersed. They all had jobs to do.

 

She waited until everyone had left the room before she herself left. So much was on her mind that she ran right into Brolli, who had been waiting for her outside the conference room.

 

“Oh! Brolli, I am sorry! I did not mean to run into you...I was just thinking,” she muttered, sighing loudly as she rubbed her forehead. He had steadied her from falling by her shoulders, and he smiled at her as he released her.

 

“It is understandable, your highness,” he said softly, looking down at her from his impressive height. She could not help but smile back at him.

 

“I just wanted to know if you ever saw the doctor,” he murmured, taking her hand. She blushed shyly, embarrassed that he was so concerned about her health. She understood though, that he cared about her and her possible babies. It was his responsibility as her advisor to remind her about things, and give her advice when she was not sure about an issue. She shook her lovely head absentmindedly.

 

“No, I have not.” She frowned and looked away. “I have been avoiding it for some reason.” She glanced up at him, her expression worried. “I suppose I keep thinking that something is wrong.”

 

Brolli smiled gently and tucked her thin, elegant hand into the crook of his massive arm. He started walking in the opposite direction of her room towards the medical wing. “Well, your highness, I am happy then, to inform you, that I have arranged a private meeting with the palace physician. He is waiting for you as we speak.”

 

Not surprised in the least, Bulma laughed lightly. “Well, at least someone is taking care of me. I certainly am not.”

 

 

 

 

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“You have two very healthy twins, your majesty.”

 

Bulma sighed with both relief and misery. Her children were healthy and well...but Vegeta did not know about those children. He just thought that she was having a single child...not two. Well, she did not know if this complicated matters or not...for as long as she had a son, then all was well.

 

Brolli patted her gracefully sloped shoulder. “See, your highness. I told you that you were with twins! Perhaps this means you should listen to me more.”

 

Bulma nodded, a false smile on her lips. “Yes, Brolli.” He helped her down from the table that she had been examined on, and she asked to be left alone so she could dress. Brolli had not been present during the examination, for it was not proper, and now she needed to redress herself. He smiled knowingly and left, along with the aging doctor. She wondered mildly how much Brolli was going to bug the physician about any and all information.

 

She quickly pulled on her clothes and strapped her weapons back on. Each knife and dagger she lovingly caressed, for they had once been Vegeta's. Even his sword she placed at her hip with exquisite care, for she never wished harm upon his things.

 

When she left the room, she walked away without even addressing the doctor or Brolli, who were chatting quietly beside the door. Brolli sputtered in an amusing way as he excused himself, and then chased after her.

 

“Your highness! It is not right for you to be without an escort right now. Bardock and Turles told me not to leave your side unless one of them was with you.”

 

Bulma snickered in annoyance as she made her way to her room. She honestly just wanted to be alone right then, to gather her thoughts and calm her mind before she left to help with the battle preparations. But Brolli was following her around, and apparently was not going to leave her side.

 

She stopped without so much as a word, her body looking slumped and defeated. He took several steps ahead of her before he noticed she was no longer at his side, and then he halted, turned, and looked at her with a questioning expression on his face.

 

“Your highness? Do you wish to rest?”

 

That had been the smartest thing he had said all day. She nodded sadly, and allowed him to tuck her hand in his arm like he had earlier. He walked her up the stairs and through the halls to her room in silence. They passed by men and women rushing through the halls, all looking frantic and scared. Bulma felt pity for them, but she felt pity more so for herself than anyone.

 

“You know, Bulma,” Brolli said informally, more as a friend than an advisor, “that Vegeta would be proud of you. I do not personally know him...but I know this: any man with a brain is proud of you right now. You have done more than any Queen in the history of Vegeta-sei...and I think that he would be very, very proud of you.”

 

She was silent. She did not need to hear his counsel. She did not want to hear his counsel. Right now...right now she just wanted to know that the man she adored with her whole being was all right...just knowing that he might not be alive right this instant was starting to get to her.

 

When they arrived at her ornately carved double doors, she stopped, and stared up into Brolli's handsome features. How could he do it? How could he smile and continue as if he had not lost his wife and children? How could he even pick himself up, day after day, and help other people like he did? What made him different than her? One moment she felt fine...and then the next, she would be reminded of him, or see something that would make her think of him, and depression would set in. It dragged her down, it made her feel utterly miserable...it made her want to lay down in a dark hole and die like a sick animal.

 

Brolli's callused finger caught one of the tears that had fallen from her watering azure eyes. She stiffened when she realized that she was crying, something that she hated because it always made her feel weak. But she just could not help it...it was getting too hard doing this on her own. He had been there for her every time she had needed him...and he was not here now. She had no one. She was by herself.

 

“How?” she whispered, her lips trembling as she gazed up at the tall, dark man beside her. He looked stunned by her tears, and her question visibly confused him.

 

She brushed away her stubborn tears, but they kept coming. “How can you do it? How can you not just give up? What makes you continue?”

 

Her despondent words made him lower his dark eyes. He gave a half-hearted shrug, and then he sighed as he brought his hand up to his forehead and rubbed it as if he had a headache.

 

“Your highness...if you honestly want to know,” he said softly, sadly, “I just do not think about it. Alayna...my wife, would not wish for me to be sad or depressed because she was gone. She would want me to be happy and continue with my life, do things that I never got to do because I married so young, go on adventures and meet new people.” The corners of his lips turned upward in a soft, understanding smile. “I have done that, Bulma. I have met new people, and I am on a great adventure. I never thought...I never even imagined that I would meet you, the Queen, let alone be where I am right now. I am happy—even though I have lost everything that ever meant anything to me—that you are here, with me, to help me through it. You are my friend, Bulma, and just knowing that I have friends makes it better.”

 

The tears came earnestly then. She actually had someone that thought of her as a friend...and that friend thought so highly of her that it helped his own agony of losing everything. Gods...had it been here all along? Right under her nose? The strength that she needed to continue, to keep going?

 

She buried her face in her hands and wept. She cried for Vegeta and her children, she cried for Vegeta-sei and her people. She cried for the pain that everyone on the planet was feeling, for all the loss everyone was experiencing. They were not delicate, soft tears; they were deep, ugly, harsh tears that made her whole body shudder in near pain.

 

She did not fight the hug that Brolli offered her. She wrapped her arms around him and sobbed into his shirt, soaking it within minutes. She needed this...she needed to know that someone was there for her, no matter what happened, no matter if Vegeta was there or not. She had a friend, and he was there for her.

 

“Brolli,” she whispered, and looked up at him, a watery smile on her face. He grinned back down at her, which made her laugh, because she imagined her face was red and tear-streaked. But that did not take away from the sudden happiness that she was experiencing.

 

“Thank you for being my friend.”

 

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Author's Note: Well! Perhaps all that Bulma needed to help her mental stability was someone who truly cared for her as a friend. We will see, though! And poor Vegeta, being beaten within an inch of his life! Will he survive his torture? How will he ever escape? And what about this enemy getting ready to lay siege to Tibernoa? Are they finally planning to kill Bulma and her threat to them? Who will win? What will happen? Find out next time on The King and Queen Diaries!