Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Midnight Storm ❯ Chapter Five ( Chapter 5 )

Chapter Five

 

Warning: Lemon Content Ahead!

 

Ronan and Kyara barely made it to her room without tearing her dress off. She needed to feel him against her, his flesh pressed to hers, his golden glow matching her silvery shine. It had been a long time for her; she had been with no one but Radditsu for six months and before that, she hadn't known what she wanted. So, she had no one for a long year before Radditsu had taken her. They didn't see that they had been followed before Ronan backed her into her room, closing the door behind them.

 

Trunks frowned, confused, but then remembered it had only been Balin that said he was not Kyara's lover. He had mentioned Aragon, but never Ronan. Then again, Trunks' hadn't asked.

 

Why am I jealous?

 

Trunks turned on his heel, returning to the grand hall. His mood had changed from light-hearted to moody and brooding.

 

Inside Kyara's room, it was more about brazen lust and raw desire more than it was about love.

 

“I've missed you like this,” Ronan whispered, easing the zipper on her dress down, careful not to tear it. It was the only time he would be so gentle; once the dress was gone, he slid a finger inside her panties and pulled. The sound of ripping satin startled her, but it didn't scare her.

 

“If I remember correctly, you seduced me first.”

 

Ronan shrugged out of his shirt, “As if you weren't receptive.”

 

He slid a finger inside of her, testing her. She took in an audible breath, pressing her hips against his hand. Ronan took a moment to unfasten his pants, but soon came back to her, kissing her as he lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist. He surged inside her with a hard thrust, pressing her into the wall. Kyara cried out, in pleasure and pain, tightening her hands on his shoulders. Her skin began to glow softly, matching his sunlit glow. Moon and sun beams, she had called it as a child. Ronan was lost, reveling in the way she felt around him, tight and warm and wet.

 

They had always been good at this, as though they were made for each other, but Kyara couldn't be with Ronan. He was too emotionally unstable; prone to act first and consider the consequences later. As a teenager, it had been what attracted her to him, but now, older and wiser, she saw what her father had not liked in Ronan and Tristan. He hadn't known of Aragon; their affair had been too brief.

 

Still, the sex was incredible; Ronan knew exactly where to touch her and how. In fact, after only a few thrusts, she was crying out, her body convulsing around him. He turned, carrying her over to the bed. Their lovemaking intensified until they collapsed in a heap, arms and legs intertwined, panting.

 

Kyara fell almost immediately into a deep sleep, and when she awoke, Ronan was gone. She smiled, rolling onto her back, turning to look out at the orange sunrise. She sat up, turning her feet toward the floor. She padded to the shower, where she turned on the water as hot as she could stand it.

 

After her shower, she slid into a pair of jeans and a tank top, pulling her boots on over her jeans. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and set out about exploring the palace. As she descended the stairs, she was Balin and Ronan, arguing. It wasn't unusual, but it was odd.

 

“You need to watch yourself, Ronan,” Balin said quietly, “I understand your feelings… for the princess, but a match you are not.”

 

Ronan glared at Balin, “How can you presume to understand anything about me? Especially when it comes to Kyara? We are friends, Balin. Do not jeopardize the respect I have for you.”

 

“I do not mean disrespect, friend,” Balin said, “however, the King will not allow such a match, even if there is a child.”

 

“Then he violates our law,” Ronan said.

 

Balin sighed, “Our laws. You know as well as I that there are ways around any law, even our most sacred.”

 

Kyara descended the last stair, “Hey guys. What's up?”

 

“Princess,” Balin said, “what are you doing here?”

 

“I was eavesdropping,” she said, but didn't want to comment on the conversation. Balin was wiser than Ronan, and Balin had been right, “that, and I was going to explore the palace.”

 

“We've been over it inch by inch,” Ronan said, “there's not much to see, except the training room.”

 

“Training room?”

 

Balin and Ronan looked at each other, as if they were sharing some secret, “It's actually very… well, I can understand how the Saiyans are so powerful. Their sparring is brutal with one another.” Balin said.

“I want to see this… training room.”

 

 

Trunks panted, taking back up his fighting stance, sweat dripping down his bare, muscled chest, glinting in the lines formed by the rippled muscles of his abdomen. Strands of his lavender hair had escaped its bind, plastering themselves to his face. At the other end of the room was Gohan, who was also panting. They met again, moving unbelievably fast, unleashing a flurry of blows that Kyara could barely keep up with. The guards had educated her in the martial arts, but even they weren't capable of speeds this fast. No wonder they had been eventually defeated. Ronan could shape-shift and Balin could kill with a touch if he wanted to. But those… talents were nothing compared to how these Saiyans could move and fight one another, the abuse their bodies tolerated while still going on.

 

They broke apart again, standing to face one another.

 

“You're more… aggressive than usual today, Trunks. Is something bothering you?”

 

“Just trying to get rid of some pent up frustrations, Gohan.”

 

“Your father?” Gohan asked; he and Goten were Trunks' closest confidantes; he openly spoke of his frustrations at being assigned to what he considered `third class missions.'

 

“Partially. I'm rather upset that he sent Cumber and Lattus to Earth to seek out Radditsu.”

 

Gohan shrugged, blotting his face with a towel, “That's a third-class mission, Trunks. Not worthy of the prince's attentions. Radditsu will be brought to justice.”

 

“I'm not concerned with that. I just wanted to see this thing through.”

 

“We have company,” Gohan indicated the spectators.

 

Trunks looked up to the observation window and for a moment, his eyes met Kyara's with an unreadable expression. He wiped his face and leveled his eyes on Ronan and Balin.

 

“They knew we were there the entire time,” Kyara said, chuckling, “they were giving us a show.”

 

Balin smiled, “And a most impressive show it was,” he said.

 

“I think we should repay their efforts,” Ronan said, his eyes glinting.

 

Balin pulled the sword out of the sheath at his back. It was an ancient Katana, Balin and Ronan's preferred weapons. They liked them better than long or broadswords, though they were experts with those as well. He nodded at Ronan, “Lets see how our princess has kept her sword fighting skills. Give her your sword.”

 

Ronan pulled it out of its side sheath and flipped it, handing the woven hilt crested with a wolf to her. Kyara took it, nodding. They descended the stairs to the lower level, where Trunks and Gohan watched them enter.

 

“Mid if we use the room?” Balin asked, “I have to make sure the princess is still up to par with her fighting skills.”

 

“Be our guest,” Gohan bowed, his hand sweeping back.

 

Trunks crumpled his towel and threw it into a basket on the corner, “We're done here.”

 

His voice was flat and indifferent. They exited the room and made their way up to Ronan in the observation room, standing at the window. Trunks swallowed water from a bottle without taking his eyes off of Balin and Kyara, who circled one another, stretching before settling across from one another. Balin chose a forward standing, wide legged stance, his sword placed with the hilt at his waist, bisecting his torso. Kyara took a side stance, holding the sword horizontally at her eyes. For endless moments, neither of them moved, only stared at each other with an intensity of concentration.

 

Balin struck out first, launching himself at her, bringing his sword around, above his head in a vicious slash. Kyara parried the blow, sliding backwards across the floor, turning just in time to bring her sword up to defend another blow. Then, Kyara went on the defensive, her movements fluid and graceful, powerful despite her height and weight difference with her opponent. She pushed him back with her telekinesis, throwing him backwards. It threw him off balance and she used that moment to attack him. He defended the blow easily, they pirouetted at the same time, their swords coming together with a sharp clink. Balin threw her backwards so that she landed on her buttocks, but she kept hold of her sword and jumped back up so that they could circle one another again, like two wolves fighting for the position of leader of the pack.

 

They were sweating, their breathing labored and still they came together again and again, their battle traveling the length of the room, Kyara at one point climbing the wall and flipping over Balin, nearly catching him off guard as he barely brought his sword up to parry her blow. They separated, sweat dripping down Kyara's shoulders, running down her arms, making them glisten with a pearlescent shimmer. Balin bowed, acknowledging her skill, an expression of a proud teacher on his face. She bowed her head, looking up into the observation room. Her eyes found Trunks' and for a moment they locked. Then, he turned and exited the room. Gohan looked back at Kyara and followed.

 

“Did I offend him in some way?” Kyara asked, looking at Balin.

 

“No. I think the young prince is just… well, jealous for lack of a better word.”

 

“Jealous? Whatever of?”

 

Balin looked up at Ronan and narrowed his eyes slightly, “Do not be coy. It does not suit you. Everyone knew that you and Ronan did not leave because you were ill.”

 

Kyara blushed brightly, “I was that obvious, huh?”

 

Balin nodded, “Perhaps in the future, you and Ronan should both learn to contain your desire.”

 

Kyara nodded. Balin was right. She and Ronan had been lovers in the past. Right now, she had other things to worry about. Besides, it had to seem as though she were available. If her step-mother knew she was actively sleeping with one of the stronger members of the guard, she would be killed before she could even conceive an heir. Azura would not allow such a union to beget offspring that could eventually threaten her son. She, Balin, and Ronan left the training room and she found herself wandering the garden; trailing her fingertips over the silken petals of the flowers that grew there. The king had made it more like Earth for his Seelie wife; an expression of how deep his love truly ran. She lifted her head up to the sun, inhaling deeply. It wasn't home, but it wasn't too far off, either.

 

 

 

***

 

 

Trunks lay on his bed, his hands on the hips of the woman writing above him. He was buried inside of the attractive concubine, but she was just another venue to relieve his frustrations. She meant little to him; he could have selected any number of them, but she was the only one with black hair and green eyes. The result of a human-Saiyan match, she had the dusky skin of a Saiyan and the dark, spiky hair, but her eyes were human.

 

She cried out in pleasure, her hips undulating against his, her knees on either side of him. Her breasts were small, and he reached up to cup them, pinching her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. She cried out, tossing her head back, grinding her hips down into his. He rolled her under him, bracing himself on his arms, his hands on either side of her head, entering her with a bruising thrust. She cried out, tears springing to her eyes, her hands raking down his back. He drug himself out of her, surging back into her again. She moaned, crying out. He picked up a harsh rhythm, pounding himself into her again and again. She was pressing her hips upward to meet his thrusts and he seized them, holding them static against him as he sank himself into her hard and deep, grunting with his effort. His thrusts were shattering as he filled her with his seed. He rolled off of her, getting up from the bed and pulling his trousers back on.

 

“Did I not please you, sire?” she asked, watching him.

 

“You were fine,” he said, his voice emotionless as he scooped up her dress and tossed it to her.

 

He tucked his shirt into the pants and sat on the bed to pull on his boots. He heard her silently pulling on her dress, smoothing it down. He didn't even speak to her before he left the room. As he stepped out, Gohan met him, looking urgent.

 

“We've received a communication from Kakarroto. He says that you've been invited to the Unseelie Samhain Ball.”

 

“The… uh, what?” Trunks asked, totally oblivious.

 

“The Samhain Ball. Their Halloween celebration. Kyara's on the communicator with her father now. Apparently, it is one of their most important celebrations.”

 

Trunks nodded, “Why me?”

 

Gohan shrugged, “I have no idea, but it's quite obvious that Kyara will be attending, and Ronan and Balin will be returning to Earth with her.”

 

Trunks sighed, “And if I refuse the invitation?”

 

Gohan looked serious for a moment, “I believe your father would command you go, just to make sure that no offense was given.”

 

“Well, then I have no choice.”

 

Gohan nodded, “You're right about that.”

 

Trunks walked down the hall to his father's office where the communication device was, opening the door slowly.

 

Kyara turned and the king looked at Trunks, “Ah, young prince Trunks. So good of you to join us.”

 

Trunks bowed, “It is an honor, King Owain. To what do I owe the pleasure of your contacting me?”

 

“I am issuing you an invitation to our Samhain Ball, a week hence.”

 

Trunks bowed, looking at Kyara who kept her face neutral, “I am honored at the invitation, King Owain, but I am not sure that I am aware of what this Samhain Ball is about.”

 

The king smiled, “I wouldn't think that you would. Samhain is one of our most important holidays, if you will. Earthlings call it Halloween.”

Trunks nodded, “I am aware of that holiday.”

 

“It is unusual, but to make you and your Saiyan friend Kakarroto more… comfortable, I am declaring this a costume ball.”

 

Trunks wasn't sure if that would make him more comfortable or not, but he bowed his head, “I thank you, your highness.”

 

The king's eyes turned back to Kyara, “Then I look forward to seeing you in a week, or sooner, if it is possible.”

 

Kyara bowed her head, “Of course, father.”

 

The communication screen went black and Kyara stood, looking at Ronan and Balin, “A costume ball. Usually the ball runs nigh to formal, so I'll at least be more comfortable.”

 

Balin nodded, “Can we be prepared to leave in five days?”

 

Trunks nodded, “It can be arranged.”

 

 

***

 

 

“Aragon and Kyara loved one another, of that I have no doubt,” Dogmath mused, continuing, “It was only a night of passion that led to Aragon getting Gwennon pregnant. He has followed our customs and married her, but I know where his heart truly lies.”

 

Cadwallen, his head guard, nodded, “We have but to get him to break his oath with the princess, and both of them will face a death sentence that even the king can not override.”

 

“I've never denied that my father loves that… half-breed more than he loves me. Of course, I am a half-breed as well, but my mother was better placed than Kyara's mother. So, therefore I am heir. I have no doubt that my father would rather see her on the throne.”

 

“But for a promise to your mother, it would probably be so. As far as birth order, she is heir apparent.”

 

Dogmath nodded, “Kyara is too dangerous to my reign to remain alive. If one of her trysts with a member of the guard should get her pregnant, then she will be well enough protected. There are members of the guard that even I fear.”

 

Cadwallen nodded, “How do you suggest we get them to break his vow? Kyara is intelligent, politically savvy and wise for her age. She won't just sleep with Aragon. She knows our laws.”

“At this moment, my father is extending an invitation to attend our Samhain ball. We will send a note to each of them- something stating that the other wishes to see one of them. Of course, I shall provide wine from my private stock- that which I use to persuade women to my bed. It is called the Wine of Prurience, or else the Drink of Desire. It renders anyone, even the Fey, incapable of containing their urges.”

 

Cadwallen smiled, “Even if they could prove it was the wine, it would do them little good.”

 

Dogmath nodded, “Little good indeed. My fair sister is about to learn that I am not one to dismiss as a trifle.”

 

“It will be done, sire.”

 

“See that it is, Cadwallen. You know above anyone else that I do not tolerate failure.”

 

Cadwallen nodded and bowed, exiting the room.

 

 

***

 

 

Arissa arrived, carrying handfuls of potential costumes. Some were unacceptable, especially those with wings, which Kyara immediately dismissed. It did not do well for her to imitate horribly the stereotype which most humans placed on the Fey, as diminutive winged creatures. Kyara finally decided on a costume that harkened back to her school days, when she attended a human school for a small time. It was a red, white, and black plaid skirt, with mid-drift white top and white knee-high stockings. It was positively ludicrous, but sexy, and sexy at Samhain was a tradition. Arissa left to attend to the prince, and Kyara stepped out onto the balcony.

 

Balin and Ronan were practicing their sword fighting on the lawn just beyond the gardens, and Goten and Gohan sat upon the lawn, watching. Their intensity was much stronger than the intensity of Kyara and Balin's match, but they hundreds of years experience compared to Kyara's fifteen. She remembered vividly the day that Balin had first put a sword, a wooden bokken, into her hands. It was just after her brother, pretending that he had been playing, had nearly killed her. Balin thought that the princess should be able to protect herself against her brother, but back then, her powers were nothing compared to what they were now.

 

Kyara knew that returning to the Sithen, back to her home, might lead to another assassination attempt. She was tired of duels, of the back-stabbing and political positioning common at the court. She could work magic, like most any Fey, but did not have the stronger powers that some of her court possessed. Dogmath had a power that could turn a room of extreme right-wing conservatives into a full-blown orgy. It wasn't a deadly power, but it was a rare and useful one, especially when positioning himself for a choice mate. It was, essentially rape without raping. Dogmath could actively use the power, or place it in food or drink. He had seduced a number of women this way; though not unattractive, his tastes in sex ran to masochism, and some women just don't equate sex with pain. For Kyara, she liked the pain of rough, raw sex, but not the pain of abuse during sex.

 

Balin and Ronan would be with her, as well as Trunks, but they couldn't guarantee her safety. Assassination wouldn't be an easy thing, not out in the open, and not without someone challenging her to a personal duel. The problem was, once a duel was challenged, no one could interfere. If it was one of the Fey with the deadlier powers, could she survive?

 

 

 

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