Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Prince and the Pauper ❯ Ch. 1 ( Chapter 1 )

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The Prince and the Pauper

-By BlackDeath

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~~Chapter 1~~

Prince Vegeta was, at present, in the middle of one of his infamous fits.

His father was actually going to go through with it. And to think, without any consent on his part!

No matter though, there was nothing to be done. He'd been reared long enough in the Ou's shadow to know with nye inborn certainty that no amount of pleading would alter his sire's ultimate decision. In fact it would more than likely offer up a mere amusing respite from the humdrum of political drama he dealt with on a day to day basis.

But who said that he had to go down without a fight? Correction. A war would probably be more befitting of his status.

Half-hazard he stormed down the palace's north wing, white satin cape billowing behind in a swirl of arrogance. Vegeta couldn't help but draw in a bated breath at the very thought of marriage at his age.

True, it wasn't as though this had never happened before in his family's rule. True, that his father had been pressured into marriage at a young age as well for the good of the Kingdoms, but it just wasn't fair!

It was happening to him.

Oh, but he loathed the thought like he loathed those damned low-classed beggars that had been stealing his father's prized waerma to feed their thieving family's mouths for the past month.

Waerma were a very rare and very prized livestock comodity on Saijya. For they were shipped directly from his sire's trade alliance with the other star systems and were in short supply.

One of the main by-products was their milk, a thick, nutritious substance that was treasured for its regenerative properties. The beasts looked something of a cross between a broct and a shisth with their blunt teeth and razor-sharp talons for burrowing into the craggy soil.

It wasn't King Vegeta's fault that the taxes had been raised.

The Prince's footsteps became deliberately louder as he plowed into the Throne Room. The council that was in session twittered in nervousness as they somberly regarded the younger Vegeta's glower.

The King took his son's unnanounced presence in with a raised eyebrow.

He had known that the boy's reaction to the news would be nothing short of mass genocide if he didn't tred with caution. "What is the meaning of this little interruption, Vegeta?"

The Ouji scowled more deeply at that if possible and entered the assembly, a rain cloud of ire all but visibly trailing in his wake.

"I must have a word with you, Father. It is of the utmost importance."

The courtiers looked vaguely annoyed, some opening their mouths to put forth an objection, though it was the elder Vegeta that silenced any potential protests with a warning glare. Evidently he intended to handle this situation on his own.

"I do apologize Son, but as you can plainly see, I'm holding court at the moment. Whatever it is, I'm sure can wait for the time being."

Vegeta's shoulders slumped imperceptively. He'd been anticipating this. It wasn't unusual for his father to try his patience out of sheer boredom.

"Oh but I do insist Father, that we have a little chat. That, or you can expect a quick decimation of your favorite concubines. It would be a pity if there was no one to warm your bed anymore at night." He sneered belligerently then to emphasize his point, a move that no one dared to get away with, or was able to therefore, but the Son of the Emperor Himself.

The King's lips drew up at the corners, obviously enjoying the other's sadistic little jibes. The council relaxed all at once, an unseen wave of relief reverberating throughout their audiences. Seldom was Vegeta the King ever inclined to be so indulgent, especially with the Ouji.

The Ou languidly reclined back into the plush velvet seat of the Throne, steepling his hands in such a way that one would think him to be deep in thought. "Speak my inquisitious child, and tell me what burdens you. For it truly must be of some magnitude if you were willing to risk my anger at such a distraction."

Prince Vegeta settled somewhat. Perhaps this wasn't such a bad idea afterall?

He cleared his throat, straightening up. "I wish to discuss my marriage betrothal and it's...implications."

The Ou closed his eyelids, features smoothing out and giving the illusion of placidity.

"What implications would those be?"

For the first time the younger Vegeta looked about at his subjects, some throwing curious glances his way, while others kept muttering to themselves, lost in figures and endless scrolls of parchment. He groaned inwardly. It was now or never.

"Why must I marry so soon? I've just barely made it to the Coronations, and now you want me to go courting a wife or husband? It's ludicrous, Father. Please, I'm asking you. Why can't I just wait a few more years, and perhaps find a mate on my own without having to go through the expense?"

The King massaged his red bearded chin, demeanor all but weighted down in resignation. "I've hoped to avoid this confrontation with you, Vegeta. I gave you plenty of notice last spring that I was taking it upon myself to find you a suitable mate, yet you simply dwindled that time away. No, there shall be no more extensions. I have spoken."

The Prince was back to fuming now, all but spitting sparks at King Vegeta. "But how-!"

Quietude fell with unease upon the Throne Room. When the King gave his final word, no one dared to further question it, for swift consequences would for surely be in order. Even for the Ouji, that was crossing a very definite boundary.

With a deadly calmness, the Ou studied his offspring. "You have the audacity to go against my decision, Child?"

Prince Vegeta paled, but his surliness proved hard to win over.

"How can you do this?! I'm your only heir! I should think that you'd want me happy, Father! And honestly, our Kingdoms are in no such dire need of new imperial blood that it is essential that I marry and produce a child!"

The Ou lost his good humor then, and apparently forgot about their spectators as well. "Oh, but I fear it is essential my Son, most essential. More than a young fool like you can realize now."

The Ouji fell silent, bereft of any further antagonistic speech.

The King's eyes averted slowly from his son, blinking as though to clear a fog. Abruptly however, he became all too aware of the probing gazes of his befundled subjects.

Coughing discreatly, the elder felt his skin flush with heat. "The meeting has been adjourned, you are all dismissed for now."

A handful of scribes glanced at eachother, seeming of a like understanding. They packed their belongings and exited, leaving a dour-looking Prince and flustered King behind.

Vegeta felt his jaw clench when his father's eyes returned to greet his, cool onyx meeting firey obsidian.

"Listen once and listen well. For I will not deign to explain this to you again. The reason, the true reason as to why I am forcing you into a marriage Vegeta, is because the Kingdoms, despite what you have believed before, are in danger now."

Puzzlement betook the Prince. "You must be mistaken. Are you telling me that our very way of life is being threatened as we speak? Please, Father. Spare me such jests. They are far too absurd to be believable. This is Saijya. By chance have you forgotten that?"

Peering down at his obstinate son, the King sighed. "If only it were that easy, Brat. If only it were that easy."

Realization opened up like a void when it occured to the younger that his sire was serious. He stared intently at the bearded man. "Elaborate."

The Ou rubbed his temples, wearily plopping back down upon the chair and throwing a leg over its arm.

"Where would you prefer I begin? A death threat, or vendetta if you will, has been newly formed upon my name. I received it on my balcony a fortnight ago, and woke our Vicar from a sound sleep to have a look at it. Needless to say, the old coot was rather disturbed by it as well, for this was no bluff or fool threat, but a real one. Thus so, the Elites are doing everything that is possible to find the origins of the note, and are taking every precaution to ensure your safety, as well as my own."

" But now comes the matter of preservation that you're so keenly set against. Our name on the Throne of Saijya must continue to survive and outlast any other potential candidates. I must have you produce another heir as quickly as possible. Normally I would myself had the circumstances called for it, but as you are the next in line, and convention states that I must leave the reproducing up to the next generation once I've birthed my own first born, that responsibility rests soley with you. If they have at least three royals to contend with, we'll have a better chance of maintaining our hold on the Crown."

Prince Vegeta was aghast. This was no trivial matter he was being forced into complying with a suitor for.

"But why not throw decorum out the window? As King, you should certainly be capable of changing such traditions! Besides, Father. You by far surpass me in strength as of yet. Another offspring produced from your loins should be more beneficial to the Empire rather than that of my own."

Smiling, the larger Saijyan male shook his head. "Even as King there are some things that I cannot change, Vegeta. As well, you should know that. Such traditions are at the very root of our culture. Now think of it logically, and tell me what such renegade alterations would bring."

The younger shuddered at the thought. To put it delicately, the Saijyan people would not be happy.

"I suppose I see your point. But that aside, may I ask why it is if they had such access to your balcony, didn't they just simply kill you then? What purpose would the note serve?"

This had gnawed at the King's mind as well, for he too couldn't fathom a legitimate reason as to why the traitor or traitors wouldn't, given such an opportunity.

He rose and began pacing the expanse of the room.

"I think perhaps that they wanted to see how much they could affect me. An experiment, if you will. Put yourself in their position. How would a King react at knowing that an assasin could breech all of his security if they so wished to? They'd suspect that it would drive me mad, and as so, indeed, they are right. For whatever reason they are doing this, the only plausible answer that I can think of would be entirely for my title as Lord of Saijya."

The Prince thought this over as well. It was motivation enough, save for the fact that the explanation seemed to be missing something incredibly valuable.

"Who do you think it could be?" He pondered aloud, valiantly attempting not to lose himself in reverie.

"One can never be sure with situations like these. For all I know, it could be those same ruffians who are stealing my waerma. Perhaps it is some pathetic attempt to send a message. 'Look', they must be saying, 'I've already stolen something precious to you, now just wait till I have your place of power.'"

"Filthy..." Yes, they were all that and more, he thought. How could this be happening? What if they did succeed in the murder of his father, what then? What if they succeeded in killing himself as well? It was of course these mysterious rebels who were the ones forcing him to marry, afterall. Not the man standing in front of him. They were the cause of it!

He released a quaking breath, rage rekindled to a tenfold of what it had been.

The furious youth glanced to the silent form of the Ou. It unnerved him many a time how he could maintain such icy composure.

His sire was seated by the large stained glass window, a window that his ancestors, the previous kings before him, had looked down at the capital city of Saijyago from.

Sunlight was playing on the red of the elder male's upswept hair, a mane that bared a striking resemblance to his own though only lighter.

The Ouji left the throne room, saying nothing and savoring the memory of his parent looking down upon his Kingdom with such awesome wonder, until it faded away to the back of his consciousness, an image he would access someday later when the world became too bleak and all that he knew that was palpable would dissipate, like shifting sand through clumsy fingers.

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