Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unfaithful ❯ Part Three: 14 ( Chapter 14 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

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................................................................ ...................Rhapsody~*



________________________~* Part Three*~: Diplomacy
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Bulma returned to her room to discover that Yamcha had gone with some of the Saiyan nobility into the city, and would return before the meeting later that evening.

The queen quickly dismissed Nataliah in the hopes that a certain Saiyan Prince would show up and steal her away. Her hopes were dashed, however, when she remembered that he had gone with Magdalene in search of an able technician.

So, alone and bored, Bulma paced the room, thinking of what she could do to occupy herself. It was then that she stumbled across the canvas. It was a miracle in itself to the artistically restrained woman. And, resting on the easel, was an array of paints and several brushes. Bulma felt like a kid in a candy store as she admired all of the bright, bold colors. On Earth, all that ladies were allowed to paint were flowers and the peaceful countryside, but here... the possibilities were endless.

Re-energized, the human determinedly dragged the easel and canvas nearer to the balcony, where she could get a clear view of the ocean. It made perfect sense to paint the spectacular view-- she would take it back to Earth so that she would always remember. That is, if Yamcha had not gotten them killed by then.

Shaking her head, Bulma went about mixing some paints to match the alluring colors of the sea.
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"She says that she likes flowers a lot. Do you like flowers, Vejita-sama? I guess I do, as long as they don't have too much pollen. That stuff makes me sneeze from a mile away! Chichi uses some of those purple flowers in her steamed rice, too. Whenever I see her, she's always making it. Maybe because I'm coming over. Do you like steamed rice? I prefer it over a nice bed of--"

Vejita couldn't handle it anymore. "Enough of your mindless chatter, Kakkarott! I don't give a fuck about your woman's recipe for steamed rice, and I hate flowers!" The agitated prince went back to work going over trade records from Earth. He was starting to feel one hell of a headache coming on. "What are you doing here anyway?"

Kakkarott, who was sitting on a pile of extremely important documents, shrugged. "My dad sent me here to get something for the meeting tonight, except I forgot what it was. I'm thinking that maybe if I sit here long enough, it might come me. What do you think?"

Vejita rolled his eyes. "I think that you should get lost so that I can get back to work."

Kakkarott was not sure of how to respond to that without sounding disrespectful, so he kept his mouth shut for once in his life. Instead, he studied his prince as inconspicuously as he could manage. All day he had been having moderate success in pushing Vejita's affair to the back of his mind, but now that they were alone, it could not be avoided. The Saiyan was beginning to wish that he had just stuck with his food, like he normally would have. "Radditz keeps on bragging about walking Queen Bulma back to her chambers. Do you think that he likes her?"

"Your fool brother likes anything with tits," Vejita replied, never taking his eyes off of his paperwork. Kakkarott could not believe the man's acting skills and easy nonchalance. "And that's including overweight men."

Kakkarott laughed. "He's going around saying that she was giving him special smiles and things," Kakkarott continued. Perhaps if Vejita got jealous enough, he would confess. "He says that she wears transparent wraps for the sake of every man she passes. Do you think that's true?"

"Unless its affecting the treaty, I don't care." Vejita pushed aside the documents and favored Kakkarott with a glare. "Why are you so fired up about it?"

Kakkarott decided to back off-- a wise choice. "I'm not. I just want to keep up with things. Its hard for me sometimes."

Vejita snorted. "I noticed."

"Are you going to see the fireworks after the meeting tonight, Vejita-sama?" Kakkarott asked. "Radditz, Nappa, and even Turles are going. It'll be like the old gang again, you know? I heard that they're going all out this year-- free food and everything!"

"Why would I want to waste my time?" Vejita snapped. "Magdalene is so damned determined to go all out for these humans. Its sickening."

"I think that she's doing it for Bulma," Kakkarott suggested. "I think that she reminds her of herself a few years back."

"Hn." Vejita had always been sore on the subject of his family life. But who could blame him? "Magdalene thinks that she should save every lost soul she encounters."

Kakkarott didn't think that that was such a bad thing, but he kept that to himself. "She wouldn't try if she didn't think that Bulma could be helped. She's smarter than that. And besides, you can see how much happier Bulma has been."

"Its none of my concern, nor is it any of yours," Vejita said, getting up out of his chair.

"You never know," Kakkarott pressed on. "Bulma could be good for Magdalene, too."

Vejita started to exit the room. "Then let the twits gossip together, so long as they stay out of the way." He slammed the door behind him, just to add an extra touch his otherwise flawless performance. Kakkarott was clueless.

Damn, was he good.
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Bulma was putting the finishing touches on the sun-soaked horizon of her painting when Yamcha returned home from the city.

Quickly, she concealed the canvas behind one of the enormous velvet drapes before her husband had time to come into the main room. She just hoped that he wouldn't notice the tiny splotches of color on her fingertips. When Yamcha hurried in, flocked by Nataliah, Bulma was calmly sitting on a chair, gazing out of the window.

"The meeting is in two hours," Yamcha informed her. "As soon as the sun goes down, I expect you to be ready."

"Nataliah will assist me so that I can be prepared on time," Bulma replied. "Did you like the city?"

Yamcha looked impatient to get ready and on with his life, but reluctantly answered her. "Its nothing that we don't have at home. The shops, however, are a disgrace. Who would want to buy such frivilous things?" He shok his head at the audacity of it all. "And the Saiyans are heathens, even the nobility that I spoke to. Queen Magdalene has even arranged for a fireworks show after the meeting. Fireworks! Only the second and third class idiots care to shoot those ridiculous things off."

Bulma had to contain her excitement. Fireworks! She had always longed to be able to enjoy them freely. She decided to put on a good face for Yamcha. "You are right, of course. They are being foolhardy."

"Of course I'm right," Yamcha said smugly. "Enough of your chatter-- its time to being getting ready."

Nataliah waited until Yamcha had gone into the bathroom to speak. "What color do you wish to wear tonight, m'lady?"

"I don't care," Bulma said.

"Are you sure?" Nataliah asked. It was rare that she got to make choices for Bulma. When the queen nodded, she scurried to the bedroom and disappeared into the closet.

Bulma did not really care what she wore, as long as her bruised torso was moderately covered. All that she wanted to think about was the meeting coming up, and the fireworks afterwards. While she was looking forward to the fireworks, Bulma was not so eager to go to the meeting. Yamcha would force her to make some kind of ridiculous entrance so that he was envied, and would likely make her stay silent throught the entire ordeal. And if drinks were served, as was customary, he would drink himself into a stupor and embarass both Bulma and the people back home that they were representing.

The queen's fingers trembled as she thought of all that could (and likely would) go wrong. Her only saving grace was Prince Vejita. They would not be able to interact at the meeting, but perhaps, if Yamcha got drunk enough, they could steal away to watch the fireworks together, where nobody could bother them...

"How is this, m'lady?" Nataliah asked, finally emerging from the bedroom.

Bulma's face went deathly pale at Nataliah's chosen wrap. It was the color of freshly spilled blood.
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"Try not to do so much contouring this time, Kiaa," Magdalene instructed as one of her numerous maids applied her makeup silently. "I would very much like to see something besides eyeliner this time around."

Vejita, who was watching his mother from his seat on her bed, let out a sigh of impatience. Kiaa, the unfortunate handmaiden, began to work faster. "Perhaps you should be concentrating more on the meeting ahead than on your fucking eyeshadow, Magdalene. Yamcha and his woman are likely to arrive first, at this rate."

Magdalene laughed, completely at ease with her son's attitude. "Don't be silly! We still have over an hour before the meeting, and I'm nearly ready."

"I ordered the others to be there early so that we can get ready before the humans came," Vejita reminded her. "Yamcha thinks that he has the upper hand, and I cannot allow that to happen anymore."

"Oh, please-- You sound too much like your father. Bulma and I had a chat this morning about the meeting," Magdalene said, pursing her lips so that Kiaa could check to be sure that the lipstick wasn't smeared. "She was beaten for giving her opinion at the dinner, you know."

Vejita knew far more than even she did. "Any fool could have told you that."

"I decided to take matters into my own hands, which will not surprise you. I arranged to have her observe the proceedings carefully, then meet you later and give you her opinion on things. Without her more educated, controlled influence, our planets will be in ruins by the end of the week, knowing Yamcha." Magdalene shooed Kiaa away and examined her finished face in the mirror. "What do you think of that?"

All that the prince cared about was the excuse to be near to the beautiful human. "Whatever. Just so long as she knows the risks. If we are caught or overheard, she could be charged with treason." Not that she wasn't risking the very same thing now, plus adultery. But Magdalene didn't have to know that.

Magdalene nodded in agreement. "You'll have to find a secure location."

Was his bedroom secure enough? "I know that. Are you finally ready?"

His mother nodded and rose from her chair. They walked side by side to the exit, both lost in thought, though on very different subjects. While Magdalene thought of the good effect Bulma would have on the meetings, Vejita contemplated all of the things tha they could 'accomplish' while they 'discussed diplomacy'. When they rounded the corner to approach the most luxurious of the meeting rooms, however, both were brought back to reality.

As Vejita had commanded, the Saiyan council was already seated and waiting for them around the long marble table. Wine had been served, and documents sat in piles along the table, thanks to Bardock. Vejita and Magdalene took their seats at the head of the table silently. No one was looking forward to the task at hand. Vejita downed his wine quickly, sensing that he would need the numbing effects later.

"Am I the only one wanting to leave already?" Turles asked with a grumpy scowl.

"What do you think?" Vejita snapped. "Everyone here knows what a waste of time this is."

Radditz shrugged. "At least there's good booze!"

Nappa burst out laughing. "Amen to that! All we have to do is get the humans nice and boozed up--"

"And then we can kill Yamcha and have some fun with his woman!" Radditz interjected loudly.

"That's funny, we were planning to do the same thing to you later, Radditz," Vejita quipped, his anger at Bulma being mentioned carefully hidden and replaced with detached coldness. "Now shut up and concentrate."

"Prince Vejita is right," Bardock scolded. "Any further comments from the peanut gallery will not go by unpunished."

Magdalene nodded her agreement, then spoke gravely. "Fighting may prove to be inevitable, but remember-- Vejitasei and Earth depend on one another for trade. We must do everything within reason to avoid war, even when your tempers run away with you."

Kakkarott spoke up for the first itme. "Besides that, think of all the innocent people that get killled in war."

"Now I can see why you always fail your purging missions," Turles retorted. "You are soft, Kakkarott."

"He balances out the evil bastards like you," Radditz said in defense of his kin.

"Don't even get started," Magdalene advised when Turles jumped up to attack Radditz. "We are supposed to be working together, remember?"

Grumbling, Turles returned to his seat, though he made no effort to hide his distaste. Radditz glared at him from across the table bluntly. Kakkarott and Bardock merely stared ahead, as if wishing that they could sink right through the floor. Vejita massaged his temples, a telltale sign of a bad mood. Magdalene alone remained passive. It was going to be a long night.
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Dressed in her blood-colored wrap and thick gold bangles on her wrists and ankles, Bulma waited Yamcha's announcement of their time to leave. Already the sun dipped below the horizon, yet her husband still was hiding behind the closed bathroom door, muttering to himself like a psychopath.

Behind her, Nataliah put the finishing touches on her hair, which was straightened and tied up today, with some spiky strands falling out of the ties. The handmaiden had made her lady's eyes smoky to match the intense mood of the dress, and had painted her lips the color of fine dark wine. Bulma felt like a china doll, but didn't dare to fix any of the makeup. Yamcha would love the look, and she knew it.

"Shall I go and alert him of the time?" Nataliah asked, gesturing to the closed bathroom door.

Bulma considered, examining her manicured nails. "No. Let him be."

The sun had continued its course and nearly disappeared below the horizon when Yamcha finally emerged from his haven, clean-shaven with his hair slicked back like a businessman. His expression was stony and serious. Bulma knew that they were all in for it tonight.

"M'lord," she greeted quietly, standing as her husband approached her. "Are you ready?"

Yamcha took her arm after looking her up and down. "You look marvelous."

"Thank Nataliah," Bulma replied stiffly. She had known that he would love the blood color. It suited his intentions perfectly. She was the mirror image of his goals tonight. "She selected the dress."

The handmaiden blushed when Yamcha waved a hand in her direction, then curtsied and retreated into her chambers.

"She's not accompanying you tonight?" Yamcha asked, narrowing his eyes after her.

"No," Bulma said. "All that she did at the dinner was stand there. I will not be requiring her assistance, I don't think. There is no need to keep her awake into the night."

"Its your call," Yamcha said, but anybody could tell that he did not approve of the decision. Dismissing one's handmaiden was too close to independence, in his opinion. With Bulma securely on his arm, he entered the hallway and motioned for the guards waiting outside to lead them to the meeting room. "Remember what I told you before-- a woman is at her best when silent. I will not have you interuppting our progress with your opinions, you got it?"

Bulma's stomach turned at the oily tone of his voice, but somehow managed to smile and nod. "I remember." She wondered if Magdalene had told Vejita of their plans to discuss the meetings yet. She hadn't received word yet, so she assumed not.

"Right in there, Your Majesties," one of the gruff guards said, stopping before a plain-looking set of doors. "The council is expecting you."

"Good," Yamcha replied curtly, pushing past them to enter the room.

The Saiyans looked up from their assorted documents or drinks when they entered, all wearing varying expressions of impatience. It was obvious that they had been there a while, for Radditz and Nappa's faces were beginning to become flushed with the influence of the fine liquor set in front of them.

Bulma was dismayed to see servants waiting near the corners of the room, holding chilled bottles of wine, ready for refills. Kami, give me the strength to make it through this, she prayed silently, closing her eyes for a split second. When she opened them, she noticed some of the men shooting prying looks in her direction.

Yamcha led her to their seats, once again, near the head of the table. Magdalene sat at the head, with Vejita, Radditz, and Nappa on her right side, Bardock at the other end of the table opposite her, and Turles, Yamcha and Bulma on the left.

"Welcome to our happy little gathering," Vejita said to break the silence, with dark, calculating eyes on Yamcha. "Its so nice of you to finally join us."

Yamcha lifted his chin. "What is our first order of business?"

"Trade," Bardock said, shuffling some papers that had been carefully organized in front of him. "We all are aware that our planets depend on each other for it. Without some of the products we ship to each other, our economies would be seriously affected, and as we all know, that cannot be allowed. Our planets would be taken over by the stronger, more wealthy planets within a matter of years. It is the way things are in our universe. But first and foremost, we should take into account the state of our citizens. Without a good economy, their businesses will fail, and their families will starve."

"Bardock is right," Magdalene agreed, folding her hands in her lap and leaning back, green eyes bright. "Before taking any action, we must first think of our people."

Yamcha reached for his wine, took a sip, and then spoke up. "I don't know about you Saiyans, but on Earth, nobility is put first. We are, after all, the founders of the cities and setters of trends that our citizens follow. We have to think of who is going to be seriously affected here."

"Yes, we do," Kakkarott interjected. "The citizens are going to be the most seriously affected. They are the ones who will be fighting in a war and suffering if the economy goes bad. The nobility will still be sitting on cushions and buying expensive clothes, even if there is a war going on."

Bulma could hardly believe Kakkarott's intelligent manner. And all this time she had thought him to be simple and naive! Thinking of her own history, though, she supposed that one could adapt to any number of situations. After all, it was hardly likely that Vejita would appoint somebody ignorant to his security council.

"That may be so, but quite frankly, who cares?" Yamcha continued, still sipping his wine. "Thats what the second and third class are established for. When a war happens and the economy declines, they are the ones designated to suffer. Its like that even here, on Vejitasei. It has to happen to somebody."

Before anybody else could cut in, Magdalene ended the sour conversation before it got off the ground. "To each his own. Our values systems are clearly different, and no amount of arguing will ever fix that. If it does, in fact, come to war, I hardly think that either one of us will be concerned about the ethics of each other's war methods."

Nobody could argue this valid point, so the conversation was carried on, starting with Bardock again.

"We still have trade to discuss," he pointed out. "That's where the roots of our problems are. Prices are being raised unfairly, if I do say so myself, and Earth's sloppy shipping methods are interfering with our ability to launch spacecraft off of our planet. And not only that, but there are many debts to be paid, and since Earth's laziness is spanning across the solar system, Vejitasei's own trade routes are being affected. Your pilots' navigating is horrible-- they invade our sky in places that were never discussed in our trade agreements."

"The particulars are far too numerous and boring to discuss," Yamcha said, completely brushing aside Bardock's statements. "The point is, there has been tension building between our planets for decades, and it has to end somehow. Through a war or a treaty, it has to stop."

"I think that we understand that," Vejita said coolly. It was the first time he had spoken up. "Why are we wasting our time on shit that we already know?"

"But, Prince Vejita, in order to draw up a complete treaty--"

Vejita cut Bardock off rudely. "A treaty? Is that what we're here to do? I was under the impression that we were here to talk about war."

"War?" Turles repeated incredulously. "I thought that the whole point of these meetings was to avoid war."

"That's what we originally scheduled them for," Vejita replied, his eyes never leaving Yamcha's. "But apparently, our foreign guests have other ideas."

"You speak of things that you know nothing of," Yamcha protested. His hands trembled as he spoke, making it clear to any careful observer that he was lying through his teeth. "Nothing was mentioned about war. I, too, came in order to avoid war."

"Bullshit!" Vejita accused, crossing his arms. "When we first met, I made it clear that I would not allow you to continue playing mind games with the Saiyan Empire. You and your planet have been trying to screw us over for centuries. Why deny it now?"

Yamcha's eye began to twitch, and he downed the rest of his (third) glass of wine. Bulma sensed danger coming on. She desperately wished that she could speak, but the memory of the painful injuries he had inflicted on her was too painful. She had no desire to subject herself to his abuse again. Besides, she could always smooth things over with Vejita later, could she not? Thats what Magdalene was arranging the private meetings for. When her husband set down his drink, he prepared to speak again.

"I'll admit that we aren't the best of friends," he began in a low voice. "And yes, I have contemplated war many times. In some ways, it would be a better resolution, but..." He cleared his throat and glanced over at the other council members. "Obviously that is not the ethical course of action. So, that is why I came here. Not necessarily to sign a treaty, but to see if anything could be done."

"Bardock, lose the paperwork," Vejita ordered, not giving the man time to protest. "We're talking war now. I can take over from here."

"We're talking war?" Yamcha asked in dismay. He had planned to have some more time to prepare, to fool the Saiyans long enough for the people back on Earth to get ready for a battle. "What do you mean?"

"Its what you wanted, is it not?" Vejita smirked as Yamcha's conflicting emotions played out over his face, knowing that the upper hand had just been passed over to him. Power truly was a wonderful thing. "Theoretically, if we were to have a war, Earth would be annihilated in under a week."

Yamcha shook his head. "Under a week? I don't think that--"

"Let me finish my damned sentence," Vejita interuppted irritably. "Vejitasei has four times the number of warriors than Earth does, and our fighters are far more skilled in the art of... destruction." His smirk got larger. Destruction was his forte. Under his command, the Saiyan army could destroy the people of Earth within the space of two days. "They have the ability to use ki, and have more tolerance for pain. A stab with one of your swords or a little bullet from one of your guns wouldn't even be able to slow down an armored warrior, so what's the point in trying?"

"Earth has many more weapons in its armory than you might think," Yamcha informed him mysteriously, which, of course, let everyone know that he had something up his sleeve. Bulma almost winced at his poor acting and obvious intentions. "And besides, how do you know that you'll be able to breach our atmosphere?"

Radditz burst out laughing. "You honestly believe that you can defeat us? The Saiyan empire? That's truly amusing."

Magdalene frowned. "The people of Earth fight with technology rather than physical strength, Radditz. If it came to war, they would merely craft weapons that could take out soldiers from miles away."

Vejita narrowed his eyes, realization dawning on him. "So that's what this is all about. You've come here to make time for you to manufacture weapons of mass destruction so that when the war comes around, you can win." The Saiyan Prince chuckled. "If those are your intentions, you are seriously mistaken. You are not the only planet that has technology. Vejitasei has in its hire some of the most skilled scientists in the universe."

"That is most definitely not what we came here to do!" Yamcha insisted. "You see, I'm not the one pushing for war-- you are!"

Vejita kept his cool head and rolled his eyes. "I haven't kept the fact that I hate you from anybody."

Magdalene could not allow this to continue. "This is becoming a personal assault. Are you sure that you want it that way?"

Vejita relayed no reaction, while Yamcha frowned deeply and signalled for an alcohol refill. Bulma, whose heart had been in her throat, relaxed a little. She would have much to say about this meeting, that was for sure.

"I am not a fool," Vejita continued, with a defiant glance at his mother. "If you try to play games with me, I can assure you that you will not win."

"No games," Yamcha said defensively. Then, under his breath, "Just war."

Bulma, who knew about the Saiyans' sensitive hearing, gripped the folds of her blood-colored wrap, expecting Vejita to attack her husband and kill him before their very eyes. But the assault never came. When she studied Vejita from across the table, however, she caught the flicker of recognition in his black eyes. He had heard.

"We aren't getting anything done this way," Bardock pointed out as the tense silence continued. "This matter has nothing to do with us personally-- only with the citizens of our planets. Things should not be so personal."

"And I suppose that you Saiyan blockheads blame me!" Yamcha exclaimed. It was then that Bulma could see that he was clearly on his way to being intoxicated.

The people at the table, with the exception of Magdalene and Bulma, jumped up and began shouting simulataneously at each other. Bulma wished that she could sink down through the floor. This was all Yamcha's fault. Things were as bad as she had imagined they would be. Finally, Magdalene took action.

"Enough! All of you!" she shouted. "Be seated at once!"

The men looked surprised at the power of her voice, but sat down anyway. Bulma was amused in spite of herself, though her husband, who was chugging his fifth glass of strong Saiyan iwne, clearly was not.

"We are adults. Surely there is a better way to get this done," Magdalene continued. "But not tonight. The fireworks are scheduled for twenty minutes from now. Go on-- we meet again tomorrow, hopefully with cooler heads and more ideas."

Bulma wanted to race out of the room and into the city to see the fireworks, but her husband remained seated, downing more alcohol, until only Prince Vejita was left in the room, glaring at the human king. Bulma was torn-- should she try to get Yamcha to move, or stay passive? She decided on neither option.

"Don't you want to see the fireworks, Yamcha?" she asked quietly.

"No," he replied, voice slurred. "I want to stay right here." He waved a shaky hand at the exit. "Go on ahead. I don't want to see you right now."

Bulma knew that unless he was as drunken as he was now, he would have never turned her loose, so she took advantage of the opprotunity. "Thank you. I'll do that."

Hoping that Vejita would catch on and follow her, Bulma moved to the doors. She only glanced over her shoulder once, just in time to see Yamcha pass out and slump over the table with a loud snore and then Vejita get up and approach her.

Somehow, with the Saiyan Prince there, she found the normally depressing situation quite funny. She started giggling, then when even Vejita chuckled at the thin trail of drool emitting from Yamcha's open mouth, laughing merrily.

"I really shouldn't be laughing," she managed. "But its just so pathetic."

Vejita followed her out into the hallway, then stopped. "Would you like to watch Magdalene's ridiculous fireworks show?"

Bulma stopped laughing and adopted a more serious expression. "We cannot be seen together," she reminded him. "People will notice us wherever we go, unless you know of a private spot."

Vejita thought for a moment, then smirked and began leading her down the hallway at a fast pace. He had to practically drag Bulma in her high heels behind him, but the human woman didn't care.

"I think that I know of a place."
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Rhapsody~*
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