Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The King and Queen Diaries ❯ Jou Hireki ( Chapter 19 )

Author's Note: Hey everyone! Yes, I know it has been a long time since I posted a chapter, but I'm sure that most of you know that I was on deployment so it was difficult for me to post anything. However, I am back now and I just wanted to let everyone know that I have written a couple more chapters of this story, so I will be posting them! I promise I will finish this story!!! I hope you all enjoy!

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Chapter Nineteen: Jou Hireki (Feelings Revealed)

When Bulma awoke, it was to a veritable feast. She gasped when she saw the steaming boar steaks, the freshly cooked mushrooms, some kind of wild greens, and even some ponamin, a rare fruit that was only present in the wild. She grinned as she pressed the red fruit to her lips, taking a large bite. She groaned aloud, relishing the taste of something other than jerky, swill, and gruel.

The fruit brought many memories to the forefront of her mind. She remembered her and Vegeta sharing the juice that came from the fruit every now and then, for it was a delicacy on Vegeta-sei. Finishing the fruit quickly, she cherished every bite, knowing that her late husband would be smiling at her as she stuffed it into her mouth as fast as she could.

She wasn't even dressed and she was eating the best meal that she had literally had in weeks. The boar was delicious, cooked perfectly until the juices ran clear. The mushrooms and wild greens were amazing mixed together, and she treasured every mouthful.

After finishing her breakfast, she dressed quickly in her battle gear and strapped on the same armor and weapons that she had used in Tibernoa. It was the only thing that really fit her now, since the armor expanded and shifted to any shape and size. The hole was still present over her breast, and she touched it often in remembrance of her near death.

Flinging aside the flaps to her tent, she stepped outside to a bustling camp. The men were packing their tents and preparing to move once more. This would be the last day that they would stay here, for it was deadly to stay in one place too long. No spies had been reported since they had been there, so she was hoping that they had lost them.

They were so close to Versai. They were probably about a week away, if they were lucky. By the time they arrived, she would be nearing her eighth month of pregnancy. Everyone was unsure of how long she would carry since Anausians and Saiya-jins carried to full term for different lengths of time. She estimated at least a full Saiya-jin year before she bore her children, so she still had about four months. She grunted, for she couldn't imagine being any larger than she already was.

Bardock and Turles were waiting for her outside of her tent, smiles on their faces. They bowed elegantly at her approach, and she grinned widely in return.

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” they said in unison. She glanced around, searching for Lord Brolli and Lord Yamcha. Both were usually present when she awoke in the morning, especially Yamcha.

She frowned, glanced around briefly, and then decided she would worry about it later. They were both grown men after all. Undoubtedly they were helping everyone pack up.

She walked the camp with Bardock and Turles, discussing some ideas and plans for the day. Neither mentioned the meal that had been prepared for her this morning, so she figured they were either in on it, or had no idea. She decided to find out later when she had more time.

The majority of the morning was spent helping her men pack their gear and prepare the horses. Yamcha appeared a few hours later in the morning and struck up an interesting conversation about her plans with Versai. Her attention drawn elsewhere, she did not notice the absence of Brolli. Yamcha drew her attention so thoroughly with his intent questions, that she didn't even notice anything else but him until much later, and only after the scarred lord left her side.

It was nearing noon when Bulma turned to ask her best friend what he thought about a wound on a horse's flank when she realized that Brolli had not been present all morning. He had not been there when she had awaken, had not been there for breakfast, and had not been there when she had met with Bardock and Turles for the morning overview. She felt panic hit her, knowing that any number of things could be wrong. It wasn't right that Brolli had been gone all day. The man was attached to her like her sword, and was almost never gone for long periods of time. She knew something was wrong instantly, and cursed herself vehemently for being an inattentive idiot.

She ran recklessly to Bardock and Turles, and excused all the men around them, including two of her Generals. She trusted no one but the two currently in front of her. Brolli and Yamcha were the only other ones.

She lowered her voice as she came close to them, touching both of their sleeves so that they knew something was wrong as they leaned in closer. Their Queen did not just go about touching anyone.

“Have either of you seen Lord Brolli today?”

Both black, spiky haired individuals pursed their lips and tilted their heads to the side. It would have been funny if she weren't so concerned, because she would have remarked that the two were spending way too much time together if they were acquiring each other's habits.

Bardock spoke first. “I have not seen him since earlier, my Queen. He was dragging a dead boar behind his horse, a big grin on his face. The last I saw him was when he was being aided by several men to cook it.”

Turles said that he had not seen him at all. Bulma felt fear clench her heart at the possibility of losing someone else that meant the world to her. She guessed that the wild look in her eyes probably snapped the two men into action, because in the next moment, the camp was abuzz with loud activity and shouts.

Search parties were formed quickly and dispersed just as fast. Bulma did not hesitate to join the first group that left. Mounting her horse as if she did not carry a large burden, she charged through the undergrowth and into the forest with her sword in her hand, crying Brolli's name.

She would not lose another man she loved.

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Brolli coughed, blood flecking his lips. He drew in a deep breath, hoping to the gods that a lung or vital organ wasn't pierced. He could not feel anything, but he was still bleeding.

His entire body hurt.

He could not tell if any of his bones were broken or if he was severely injured, but he could tell that he was buried under a lot of dirt and rubble. The last thing he remembered was walking back to his horse to bring Bulma back some more food, when he had abruptly fallen. Apparently it had caused some kind of a minor land slide, for he was covered almost entirely. Only his head and one shoulder were visible, and his throat was being constricted from the rocks and dirt enclosed around him.

He tried opening his mouth to cry for help, but he sputtered on the dirt and dust that had filled his mouth. Moving his throat and mouth to try to work up some saliva, he realized that his throat was injured. It was quite possibly where the blood was coming from. Not to mention he was severely dehydrated from being exposed to the elements for an unknown amount of time, and had nothing to hydrate himself with since the prior day. Spit was not going to accumulate in his mouth no matter how hard he tried.

He did not know how long he lay there, sometimes struggling to call for help, or to move, but it seemed like forever. He listened for people around him, hoping that someone would come sooner or later. Surely Bulma would notice he was missing. Surely.

Random thoughts entered his mind as time began dragging on. He thought of Bulma, of his former life, his former family. Bulma, Turles, and Bardock were his family now. He missed his wife and his daughters, he always would...but he had something now that he had been craving his whole life, and that was true love. The love of friends, and the love of a woman.

Bulma may not have confessed her love for him, but he knew that she loved him on a level that was over the borderline of friendship, and that meant something. It meant that it could become more.

He thought more deeply of his family long after thoughts of Bulma faded from his mind and exhaustion began tugging at his brain. He remembered his wife, working with him in the fields to help bring dinner to the table. She had been a dutiful wife, and he had grown very fond of her. His little girls, all of them so young when they had died. He had found the body of his wife at his cottage...raped and beaten severely, her throat slit and a hole through her chest. His eldest daughter, all of eight years old, had been found wrapped around two of his other daughters, the second being six years old, and of one of his twin daughters, only a year old. He had never found the body of his other twin daughter.

His mind became jumbled and smeared with blood and death as his brain began to fall asleep. He saw the bodies of the men he had killed at Tibernoa; of the men he had killed to protect his race. He began thinking of how they might all die if their Queen did not save them all. She was their only hope....

He jerked awake suddenly, and noticed it was almost near nightfall. He did not know what had startled him awake, but then...he heard her.

His Queen, shouting herself hoarse. She was calling his name.

“Brolli! Brolli!”

He heard others calling his name too, but more formally.

“Lord Brolli! Can you hear us, Lord Brolli?”

Dread filled his veins at the thought that they might miss him. It was growing dark quickly and he had no voice to alert them to where he was at.

Her voice calling his name forced him to move his free shoulder back and forth, making horrid pain shoot through his skin and bones as he attempted to liberate his arm. If he could but free it, he could try to throw stones to alert someone that something was going on in his direction.

He felt something tear as his arm became free. Breathing raggedly, he grabbed the nearest stone and awkwardly threw it in the direction that he heard the party calling his name.

It took a few throws, but they finally noticed that something was amiss in his direction.

When he finally saw his queen, tears pouring down her pale drawn face, he knew that he would have ripped his own arm off to help her find him. She crawled haphazardly down the slope that he had fallen down, sliding down the dirt and rocks, utterly uncaring about herself, and cupped his filthy face in her hands.

“Brolli, I thought that you had been killed, or kidnapped, or something horrible had happened to you...don't ever leave my side again, no matter what. That is an order.”

Her tone was not angry, but desperate, and her frantic tears continued to flow down her cheeks. He felt an odd sting behind his eyes as he nodded, letting her grasp his free hand and press her lips to his dirty forehead, her tears bathing his face.

Over the next hour his body was finally freed from his rocky prison. He was not overly injured, just dehydrated, scraped, scratched, and bruised. His arm had been dislocated, and he had felt his esophagus nearly rip apart when he yelled hoarsely from it being shoved back in to its socket by Turles, further worsening his throat's condition. He declined having a stretcher made, and instead took a proffered horse from one of the other men glad to see him safe. He rode next to Bulma the rest of the way to the camp, his arm in a makeshift sling, both so close that their horses were nearly touching.

When they were finally at her rebuilt tent, Bulma ordered food and drink to be brought immediately. She herself was starving for she had been searching nearly the whole day. She also ordered clean linens for bandages, and water.

Once he was gently divested of his possibly life-saving armor, she was in his arms. He clutched her to him with his good arm, uncaring that she herself was still dressed in armor and her belly collided with him first before the rest of her. His throat thick with emotion, he dared not to talk, for he feared he would choke on his own words. He probably could not talk even if he tried anyhow.

They held each other until one of the guards asked for entrance to the tent. She separated from him to gather the linens and water, and watched as several people came in to deposit food on her makeshift table. It looked better than usual, some kind of venison and some greens, and there was even some more ponamin. Bulma thanked the men and excused them for the night, reminding them that they would be leaving on the morrow.

Bulma quickly divested herself of her armor and cloak, only leaving herself in her tight fitting blue body suit. Brolli tried not to stare at her amazingly round figure, for her breasts were nearly bursting from the suit. Her body was still firm in all the right places, and her belly didn't look obscene combined with the litheness of the rest of her. Everything was a perfect combination, and he was pretty sure that she caught him staring at her by the blush on her cheeks.

Before he could apologize, she said, “Looking at my rotund body isn't going to get food and water into your gullet, you know.”

He smirked, opened his mouth to say something incredibly stupid, along the lines of, “Your body could be my food and water for all eternity,” but thankfully the only thing he did was look like a fish. His throat was still injured.

She was at his side instantly, looking at his throat closer than she'd had a chance to back in the dark forest.

“Does it hurt?”

He shook his head. It hurt only slightly, as if he had a severely sore throat from being sick, and he figured he had probably swallowed dirt and rocks in the land slide and had injured or scratched himself somehow. Getting some water into his body might help some, so he grabbed a canteen and chugged.

He attempted to clear his throat after drinking, and flinched. Licking his lips, he tried talking.

“Sore,” he rasped, working his throat with his hand.

She lifted his chin, looking at his neck. Moving his head from side to side, she tsked. Then what she did next shocked him into near idiocy.

She kissed his skin, right under his chin.

“You are fine externally. You must be hurt internally. Perhaps some kind of soothing agent would help, but unfortunately we are out of honey or medicine. If you are not healed by the next town, then we will see what they have available.”

He nodded, taking her hand in his and placing a kiss on each finger to show his gratitude. She smiled softly, her amazing blue eyes sparkling in the dim light of the tent. There were only two lanterns on, and they afforded little light.

“Let me get you cleaned up before we eat. Later, after we eat, we can bathe if you wish.”

Thoughts of them bathing together instantly assaulted his body and he had to sit down or show her something that she would more than likely be insulted by.

She followed him shortly after he sat, a bowl of water and several cloths in her hands. “Just rest, Brolli. You are probably weak from being buried all day. I shall take care of you for once.”

His body stiffened as she aided him in shoving down the similar body suit that she wore. It was a one piece deal, so it was either shove it down to his waist or remove it all, and it was obvious that wasn't going to happen. They were both very careful with his arm when they removed the sling, and he laid his hand carefully in his lap. He hoped the pain would go away soon, but he had never had a dislocated arm before, so he didn't know how long it would last.

She began bathing his face first, touching him gently like he had the skin of a babe. He felt himself relaxing as she stroked the cool cloth over his flesh. He had not felt the caring touch of a person, a woman especially, for months.

After bathing his face, she wiped down his neck very tenderly, then his shoulders, arms, and chest. He swore that she lingered longer than necessary over the defined muscles of his chest, and he guessed right when she stopped, but kept her hand over his heart.

“I have never touched another man like this before.”

His eyes widened at her words. He did not know why he had never thought of it before, but thinking about it now, it would make sense that as a Queen, she had gone to King Vegeta as a virgin. Women of her caste did not simply go around sleeping with men. She was innocent to the touch of another man, for she had only ever been with Vegeta. He did not know what to think, and he obviously couldn't talk, so she continued to bathe his chest to distract herself. She did not look him in the eye as she talked softly.

“I wonder what Vegeta would think right now if he could see me. Would he be mad? Would he be happy that I am not drowning in sorrow? Would he want me to carry on, and forget about him? Or would he want me to be alone for the rest of my life?”

She looked at him then, and he saw something in her eyes that he could not define, but he both feared it and wanted it at the same time. Was she pushing him away or was she offering something?

He lifted his hand and placed it on her cheek. His hand was so large that it literally covered the whole side of her face. Even still, she leaned in to his touch, unafraid.

“Vegeta has only been dead a few short months, Brolli. Missing even longer than that. I love him so much...but as every day drags on without him by my side...I just can't picture myself being alone for the rest of my life. Does that make me evil? Does that make me some kind of sinner? To be thinking these things so soon after his death?”

He shook his head vehemently. He wished he could talk, but maybe it was a good thing he could not. He might say something stupid. His simple answers seemed to allow her to talk more, rather than having to think about long, possibly complicated things.

“I think...no, I know. I know that I will raise Vegeta's children to be the next heirs to the throne, but I will not be alone for the rest of my life. I will be the Queen of Vegeta-sei until it is time to pass it on to one of my children. Once...once a suitable and respectable amount of time has passed, I think that I will attempt to find love once more. I just...I just can't picture Vegeta wanting me to be lonely for the rest of my life.” She laughed then, and it made him smile. “I can just picture him now, scoffing at me. `Silly woman, no man is better than I, but I permit you to have whatever relations you want until you are in the afterlife with me, then none other shall have you for the rest of eternity but me'.”

Tears burned her eyes then, and she buried her face in her hands. Hands that he had once healed when she had broken them, held when she had been scared, and kissed when she had needed his love. He would always be a part of her, no one would ever replace him, ever, but she needed someone to be by her side, to fill the void that he had left. She would never truly love that person as she had Vegeta, but she could love them for who they were.

She raised her tear stained face to Brolli's when she felt his hand cover her shoulder in understanding.

“It...hurts,” he said, his voice gravelly. She could tell it hurt him to talk. “But it...goes away.”

She could tell he wanted to say more, a lot more, but it was too painful. She nodded, wiping her face off with one of the clean linens.

“Shall we eat dinner?”

He nodded and let her help him stand. He felt slightly irritated with himself that she was aiding him, when it was his job to do so for her. He felt like such a pathetic weakling when she even made his plate and cut the meat for him. He was still thankful however, and he wished that he could say the words to her to make her understand how much everything meant that she was doing for him.

Once he was extremely full and had drank tons of water, he watched as his Queen directed several men to clear what was left over. She then began gathering some things together, and he observed her with interest as she folded everything she had collected into a large cloth. Smiling shyly once she was done, she stepped near him and looked at the floor.

“Would you care to bathe?”

He nearly fell over. She had suggested it earlier, but he didn't think that she would actually ask. Nodding stupidly, he sat up from his place on the pile of furs that was her bed to follow her.

She walked leisurely with him about a good half mile into the forest where there was a small lake. The water was still and the animals of the night were chirping. Everything looked safe.

Still, he wanted to make sure she was out of harm's way. He motioned her to stay where she was as he grabbed his sword, flipping it into place in his hand with amazing elegance for only having one useable arm. Bulma smiled and nodded, folding her hands together over her belly as she watched him disappear into the undergrowth.

He came back a few minutes later, tail swishing back and forth and nodding that it was all clear. He placed his sword against a nearby rock.

“Bathe. I shall...stand watch.” His voice was still raspy and extremely quiet, almost a whisper, but much better. He had mentioned that the ponamin had helped soothe his throat somewhat during their meal.

She smiled softly as she stepped up to him, placing her hands on his chest to begin to pull down his suit. He had forgone his sling and had left it back at the tent. His arm was hanging sadly against his side. For all the pain he was going through, his tail was acting very hyper with the way it was flicking back and forth.

“We shall bathe together.”

His face flamed, and he began sputtering. It sounded odd with his gruff voice. “B-but B-Bulma, it is not p-proper, you might be‒” He wanted to say compromised, but she interrupted him.

She rolled her eyes and lightly slapped his chest. “Oh, Brolli, be silent. Your worries are unfounded. No one is about, and I would prefer to have you with me.” She went off into silence, and then she looked into his eyes, staring intensely. She was silent for several moments, and then a heartbreaking tone entered her voice as she spoke softly, so softly he nearly could not hear her.

“Vegeta left me alone in the water to get dressed when he was taken. If I had been with him....”

He didn't say anything, for he understood what she meant.

If I had been with him, I could have protected him.

She was afraid of him being taken as well. It showed plainly on her sorrowful face. That was probably one of the reasons why she had so fiercely proclaimed that he never leave her side again. Something warm blossomed in his chest. He knew it was the love he felt for her, growing steadily stronger.

She finished helping him push down the top part of his suit before she turned away, blushing violently. “Please turn your back. I shall undress first and enter the water, and I will call when you can come in.”

He turned away and waited as he heard the rustle of clothing. The night air was cool, and he feared the temperature of the water. His fears were confirmed when she yelped. He couldn't help but chuckle as she hissed each step she took into the water.

“F-f-freezing, evil...w-water.”

He outright laughed and instantly regretted it when his throat burned. It took a minute for her to finally become submerged, but she finally called for him to follow.

Being a typical man, he had no modesty, so he stripped down to the buff with her looking right at him. She gasped and turned around, covering her face with her hands.

“Brolli!”

He smirked as he moved quickly into the water, not wanting to torture himself slowly. It still was utterly freezing either way, but you became used to it quicker this way.

Swimming with surprising grace towards her with only one arm, he stopped only a few feet from her. She looked over her shoulder, blushed, and looked away. He could tell her arms were crossed over her chest even though only her shoulders and head were visible. He wondered if it was for support for her swollen breasts or just pure modesty.

He moved closer to her turned body, moving his hand in front of her to show her that he had brought the soap. She mumbled a `thank you' and began scrubbing herself viciously. She kept only her head and the top of her shoulders above the water the whole time, and it amused him how utterly modest and shy she was being. He had only seen her in a few dresses, and almost all of them had been in Tibernoa, and she had flaunted her body without care when she was clothed. The low cut dresses had nearly had all the men in the whole fortress panting. He figured her bashfulness had something to do with them both being naked together and bathing.

She dunked her head under the water and began washing it with soap as soon as she reemerged. There was little left of the bar once she handed it to him. He was much slower and more delicate washing himself, for the cuts and deep scratches burned and ached. He knew he was going to be in agony in the morning, but it was so worth it right now. If he wasn't an honorable man, he would so take advantage of this situation, but he was, and he didn't want to push her away during this delicate time.

He could hear her teeth chattering as he tried flexing his arm in the water, testing his range of motion. It was massively sore, and would probably be even worse in the morning. He healed quickly, as all Saiya-jins did, so he figured it would be healed within the next few days.

“Did you want me to leave the water first, or you?” he asked, hearing the chattering of her teeth grow louder. He wished that they were close enough for him to take her into his arms and create warmth, but he didn't dare.

“We shall go together. Just...just keep your back turned, and I shall as well.” Her voice was stiff, but that might have only been because she was so cold.

She walked backwards in the water to make sure he wasn't looking. Oddly enough, she wanted to see if she could trust him in this matter. By the time she was at the shore, he hadn't even so much as twitched. He was so much taller than her, so she could see his long spiky hair drooping down almost to the middle of his muscular back. The men in her army could never achieve the muscle mass that her advisor had, for his body had been honed by years of farming and working with his hands. Smiling tenderly, she grabbed her suit and called to him.

He laughed quietly as he began walking backwards. His words were so soft she had to strain to hear him. “I feel like a boy again doing this.”

She giggled as she began pulling on her suit. “You act like you are old, Brolli.” They both shared a laugh.

He made it to shore by the time she had her suit up over her large belly. She turned just before he could see anything, and prayed that he was also keeping his back turned as she struggled to get the top up over her breasts. They were so tender and swollen that too much movement literally caused her pain. She had hoped that later on in her pregnancy the swelling would stop, but they only seemed to continue to grow larger. She had even had some colostrum leaking from her nipples only the other day, and she hoped that it wasn't a sign that she would be delivering soon. As it was, she was going to have to start keeping cloths against her breasts to prevent wet spots from showing on her suit.

Finishing, she began drying her hair with the large cloth she had brought with them. She began humming, some Saiya-jin tune that Hokora, Vegeta's late mother, had often sung when she was younger to comfort her from injuries or to help her fall asleep.

She stopped when she heard Brolli begin to hum it as well. She turned towards him, and saw that he had worked his suit up to his waist, and was still turned away from her. The tip of his tail was flicking back and forth slowly as he continued to hum. His arm was cradled against his side.

She felt a lump grow in her throat at how honorable and sweet he was. Not once had she caught him trying to sneak a peek. She didn't know why, but that meant a lot to her. Even Vegeta, that naughty bastard, would have looked. It made her smile thinking of it. Then again, Vegeta hadn't been very honorable when they had first been married. He had changed a lot once they had fallen in love.

Sighing dejectedly, Bulma walked towards Brolli and handed him the drying cloth. He looked at it as if he was confused at what it was used for, then smiled, shrugged with his good shoulder, and ruffled it through his long black hair. When he was done, it poofed out into every direction.

She burst out laughing at the sight and began combing her fingers through it to calm it down. He grinned bashfully, but didn't protest. When she was done, it was in a small semblance of order. He thanked her by nodding, and then she began helping him pull up the rest of his suit. She gingerly pulled the sleeve over his right arm, afraid of hurting him. He never complained, just kept his face a motionless mask. The unmoving features of his face prompted her to inquire how he was feeling.

“Am I hurting you?”

He blinked, as if he had been in a trance. “Yes.”

She gasped and jumped away. He hissed when the tight fabric of the suit smacked against his skin. Nearly crying out in horror, she hurried back to him to pull it the rest of the way up. He flinched, and then his black eyes unfocused and his features went still once more.

“Why didn't you tell me?” she cried, wishing she could soothe his pain, but not knowing how. She began smoothing the fabric over his skin, just to do something.

The corner of his mouth quirked upwards once the stinging faded. “You, my Queen, have bigger things to worry about than my pain,” he whispered.

She stepped closer to him, both of her hands tenderly lying to rest on his upper arms. “I would have been gentler,” she spoke softly, nearly caressing him through the fabric. He could not fight the urge to pull her closer to him, and instantly her plush body was against his chest. He almost let his breath out from between his teeth at the feeling of her against him, soft against hard, but he held it back at the last moment.

“You could not have been gentler than you already were, Bulma. The pain is nothing. I wouldn't have even felt it if you hadn't said anything.” He tapped on his temple with his finger. He noticed that she continued to cling to him even though his arm was no longer around her. “Controlling pain is something all warriors should know how to do. Withdraw into your own world so you do not feel it.”

He watched as his words made her eyes widen and dilate. What happened next, he could not define.

Bulma cried out as horrible images flashed before her eyes and blood sprayed across her vision. Bodies piled up below her, agonized cries filled the air. Men shouted and screamed, and the sounds of war filled her ears. Arrow after arrow found its home, and her sword repeatedly obtained its objective.

Tibernoa.

How many had she killed? How many lives had she taken? How many?

“Oh gods,” she whispered, stepping away from him.

His words...withdraw into your own world so you do not feel it. She remembered...she had not even thought about taking life after life when she'd finally had her taste of blood lust. It had been like she had been another person, or outside of her own body. She had not thought about her actions, not a single time, from the time she had fallen unconscious after taking the arrow to the chest, until now. It was almost as if her brain had protected her from the horror.

Tears poured down her cheeks as she began gasping. She curled in to herself and barely felt the impact of the ground on her knees. She began rocking back and forth, hugging her arms around herself.

So many...I became that monster again....

Brolli watched as she began hyperventilating. He did not understand what was happening to her, but he immediately sprang into action. He knelt slowly beside her, afraid of scaring her, and gently began stroking her hair and shoulders. He mumbled incoherent words to her, telling her it was alright and that whatever was wrong, it would go away soon. She just kept gasping for air however, and he began to fear for her health as she began violently trembling and her skin turned cold and moist, and her eyes remained dilated. It was almost as if she was going into shock.

Thinking frantically, he drew in a deep breath as he stood. He pulled her gently to her feet with his good arm, letting her sag against him as she struggled to breathe. He then closed his eyes and sent up a quick prayer to whoever was listening.

In the next moment, he swung her up into his arms. The pain was so unbearable that he nearly dropped her, but he gritted his teeth as he stumbled through the dark forest. He struggled to withdraw into his mind once more, but once he finally did, he was able to steady his steps.

Only a half mile until the camp. You can do it. She needs you.

He did not bother to grab their swords and the drying cloth. He would send someone to retrieve them once they reached camp. He focused his mind on each passing tree to keep his concentration away from the agony.

Half way to their destination, her gasps calmed into choking sobs. She did not say a single word, but she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled her round body in closer to his chest. She felt so tiny that he unconsciously held her tighter.

When he reached the outside of the tree line and the camp was within sight, several calls went up in alarm at the sight of him carrying their monarch. She was now silent, and he wondered if she had fallen asleep or passed out from the pure exhaustion of the heart-wrenching sobs she had released.

Bardock and Turles ran up to him with wide, terrified eyes, several other guards following them, shouts filling the air that the Queen was injured. Men left their tents in panic and soon nearly half the camp was running towards him, and he had barely taken ten steps outside of the forest.

When Bardock took her from his arms, he collapsed. Turles barely caught him in time as his knees buckled, and then he helped him keep his feet. The older man swung Brolli's good arm around his shoulders, aiding him in walking as they made their way to the Queen's tent. His right arm hung limply against his side as they followed slowly after the procession.

Turles immediately began asking him questions. He answered as best as he could with his throat hurting the way it was, but he himself was trying to figure out what had occurred. He didn't know what had happened...they had only been talking, and it was like she had thought of something, triggered some kind of memory that made her utterly fall apart. Was it Vegeta?

When they reached the outside of her tent, Turles brusquely dismissed the lingering soldiers and promised that they would know in the morning what the state of their Queen was. They hesitated, and when the older man barked, they all took off.

Turles helped Brolli sit on the ground as several people murmured inside the Queen's tent. He inspected his shoulder and arm, frowning. When he poked it, Brolli snarled at him, his sharp canines glinting dangerously in the fire and moonlight.

Turles quirked an eyebrow and shook his head with amusement. “You dislocated it again,” he said, sounding impressed.

Brolli gritted his teeth so hard he feared they would crack. “Get it over with.”

Turles grabbed a hold of his arm none too gently, pulled, then jerked upwards to pop his arm back into place. Brolli couldn't hold back the agonized cry that escaped his lips, and he felt like a weak fool afterward.

Turles stood and then helped him up. Almost as soon as they were both standing, they heard a timid, “Brolli?”

He was instantly inside her tent. She was sitting amongst several men, her face pale and streaked with dried tears. She looked so drawn and weary; he had to fight the urge to bring her into his arms right then and there.

“Your Majesty?”

She looked confused as to why he was addressing her so formally, and then looked around her and noticed almost with surprise that she was surrounded by men. Three were Generals and the other was Bardock. Touching Burdock's arm, she smiled faintly. “I am fine. I just fainted. Too much stress for one day,” she said, blushing delicately and even seeming frail. She was a good actress.

Bardock nodded, but he looked like he suspected otherwise. He and Turles exchanged glances, and then he turned back to his Queen as he bowed and left with the three Generals and Turles.

Once Brolli and she were alone, he knelt beside her on her bed of rich furs.

“Brolli....”

She reached out to hover her fingers above his lame arm. He flinched at the memory of having it shoved back into the socket for the second time that day.

“I overheard Turles say you dislocated it again.”

He nodded nonchalantly as he reached for the sling he had used earlier. She aided him in placing his arm into it. His face was twisted with pain the entire time.

She had tears in her eyes by the time they were done. Her lower lip was trembling, and she feathered her fingers over his face, trying to convey her feelings through touch. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Brolli. You...you carried me...with your arm injured, the whole way back to camp, didn't you?”

He smiled faintly through the agony. It was hard to hide it now. He tried not to think of it, but it was possibly the worst pain he had ever felt. He had been lucky enough in his life to experience few injuries, and this definitely topped the chart.

“I did, Your Highness.”

Her tears fell from her eyes. “You...you did that...for me?”

He nodded again, looking down. His voice sounded downtrodden and raspy. “I know it was probably stupid, but I couldn't just‒”

She silenced him by throwing her arms around his neck and pressing her lips against his. His eyes flew open wide, and he had to fight his instincts to pull her into his body. Instead, he took his free hand and cupped the back of her head, pushing her lips against his more fully as intense emotion surged through him. She made a small noise as she slanted her mouth against his, opening herself to him.

He did not know how long they stayed that way, just kissing. All he knew was that it was the most incredible moment of his life. It was almost like he had been waiting for this moment since he had been born. He felt like an invalid not being able to hold her properly, to truly show her how their kiss could be, but she seemed uncaring as she nearly ravished his lips with her own. She kissed passionately, as if she was trying to express her feelings through her lips just like she had been through touch just moments ago.

When she ended their kiss, they were both breathing heavily and clutching at each other. Her breasts were heaving against his chest, and he could feel one of the babes in her womb kick against his stomach, almost as if he was protesting at being wedged in between them.

The movement broke the sexual tension in the air as they both laughed lightly. He released her, only to bring his hand to her belly. Her features softened as he splayed his fingers over her round abdomen. It was one of the very few times that he had taken the liberty to touch her this way, and he noticed how much firmer her stomach had become since the last time he had touched her. He grinned, knowing that the babes were running out of room to move. Over the next few months, her skin would grow even more taut and the movements of her children would become less frequent as they struggled to find space.

She tucked some of his hair behind his ears in a gesture that made him look her in the eyes. He didn't really know what to say without sounding like a half-wit, so he just stared at her, hoping she would say what needed to be said. Oddly enough, she did.

“You don't have to say anything, Brolli. I just...wanted to thank you.” She then thought about her words, and realized that they could be taken the wrong way. “Not just...thank you...but to make you understand how much it means to me that you sacrificed your body to bring me comfort and to make sure I was brought back safely. I...I could not find another person on this planet that I would rather be with right now than you.”

He was left speechless. He had never been elegant with words, and he felt his feelings for her fighting with him. He wanted to say so much, but he was so afraid that he would ruin their budding relationship. Whatever was going on between them...he wanted her to take the steps, not him. Yes, they had both lost their spouses, but hers was more recent, and she had truly been in love with Vegeta. His had been a marriage of convenience, and while he had grown very fond of his wife, he knew that “fondness” was not what he felt for Bulma. It was something entirely different, something that burned his soul and made his heart ache with longing...something that made his every thought of her.

“I would do anything for you, Bulma. You know that.” The deep rasp of his voice sounded almost seductive.

She looked like she wanted to cry again, but she bit her lip to fight it. She then gave him a watery smile and laughed.

“However much I would love to continue talking, I do believe that we should find sleep very shortly. We have both had an exhausting day, and we shall be waking early in the morn.”

Both completely agreeing, they readied themselves for sleep.

That night Brolli fell asleep with her curled up next to him, except this time, it was not an accident.

*********

Author's Note: Ok, now before I get massive flames or people complaining about how this relationship is developing between Brolli and Bulma let me explain a few things. First, a lot of times when a person loses someone that means the world to them, they find themselves wanting to replace the “emptiness” inside their heart/soul with something or someone else to rid themselves of the pain. Also, and I don't want to give anything away, but at the end of this story, everything will turn out alright in the end. That's all I'm gonna say!!! Oh, and just in case anyone is confused about the scene where Bulma starts freaking out about what she did in Tibernoa by killing so many people, if you remember, it was mentioned that Bulma would lose it if she remembered killing that many people and that a lot of times people withdraw inside themselves if something bad happens (like killing a thousand people). She forgot a lot of the battle because she had nearly died due to an injury, and the words that Brolli said triggered the forgotten memory, causing her to go into shock at what she had done. Just thought I'd elaborate about that just in case anyone forgot the earlier chapter! Please review!!