Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unfaithful ❯ Part Four: 21 ( Chapter 21 )

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

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



________________________~* Part Four*~: War
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Bulma and Kakkarott were conversing amiably, if somewhat tensely, about Kakkarott's third-class upbringing when the doors of the chambers burst open. Expecting Prince Vejita, the two leaped up and hurriedly entered the room. They were met with a terrifying sight.

Yamcha and four of his armed human guards stood there, apparently preparing to search for them. Bulma gasped before catching herself and was grateful for Kakkarott's protective presence. As it would turn out, however, he would not be much of a help.

When the human king's eyes settled on Bulma, his angry expression turned into a mask of sheer, uncontrollable rage. Bulma felt a cold chill down her spine and instinctively knew that she and Vejita's peace had been shattered forever.

"You bitch!" he shouted, advancing on them threateningly. "Miserable, rutting whore! How could you bed that monkey?!"

Bulma's face went from mortified, to disbelief, and then finally to anger at her husband's words. The woman bravely sidestepped Kakkarott, who had been trying to shield her, and for once was able to look Yamcha in the eyes. "Easily," she responded in a clear, even voice. "Does it make you jealous that a mere Saiyan brought me more pleasure than you ever could?"

Yamcha boldly slapped her full across the face, a blow that nearly sent her down on her knees. Behind her, Kakkarott took a step forward. "Don't move," the human king warned. "My guards are armed, and even your freakish strength cannot win against them."

Kakkarott glowered, helpless and not enjoying it. "Only the lowest of men are dishonorable enough to hit their wives."

"Oh?" Yamcha's gaze never moved from Kakkarott as he punched Bulma square in the jaw, this time knocking her down with a broken cry. "Then what does that make your prince? Seducing a married woman is hardly a respectable thing for a man to do."

"No... seducing," Bulma muttered from the floor at her husband's feet. She could not let him spin his lies any more...

"Shut up!" Yamcha shouted almost crazily. "You are my wife, and you will fucking love and respect me!"

Bulma only succeeded in shaking her head before Yamcha seized her by the hair and proceeded to drag her towards the door, kicking and screaming. When they reached it, he lifted her by her beautiful long locks and pinned her to the wall forcefully, knocking the breath from her.

The man studied her bruised but otherwise flawless face and scowled, imagining another man taking that small chin in his hands, exploring her slender body and milky white skin while she moaned softly from beneath him, her sweet musical breath warming his face...

"No!" he shouted. She had never responded so willingly to his touch, and he was her husband, for Kami's sake! "You are mine!"

Bulma's eyelids fluttered as she fought consciousness, but she managed to utter in a choked whisper. "I... would rather be... dead."

Yamcha gaped at her in disbelief. How had he missed this new development? No matter, he decided, he would deal with it as it came to him. Harshly. "That's alright, my darling. I don't require complete compliance. In fact, your pain would only add to this joyous occasion-- war!"

Kakkarott, wary of the guards, took a step closer. "War? What in the--"

"It was Prince Vejita's suggestion, actually," Yamcha informed him smugly. "He agreed on no terms, no documents, no rules. That was after he came forward with the news of seducing my wife..."

Bulma did not hear the rest of what Yamcha was saying. She didn't care. She had heard all that she had needed to. Vejita had killed Nataliah, revealed the affair, and broken his promise. The injured queen choked on desperate sobs, and was ashamed of the tell-tale tears that ran down her cheeks and tingled her fresh bruises. If Vejita had proclaimed all of that, then surely he would be on his way... right? Bulma looked over at Kakkarott and was able to make out his startled and betrayed expression through her tears. Her worst nightmares seemed to all be coming to life, and she was utterly helpless to stop them.

Yamcha sneered at her tears. "You cry for nothing," he hissed, giving her a painful shake, then letting her tumble to the floor in a heap, where she began to sob harder. "It is too late. We are leaving this Kami forsaken place now, and the next time you shall see your precious prince will be when I have his severed head on my sword! Mourn about that."

Bulma felt as if she were traveling in a rapid downward spiral, bound for unspeakable pain. She was almost dizzy with despair, but she hadn't even come to the worst of it. Suddenly, he was upon her, beating her into submission as he attempted to drag her by her fragile, beautiful wrap to the door, where his guards waited. He laughed at her screams, and when her garment ripped, revealing the side of one creamy breast, along with old injuries that had not yet healed beneath her new ones, he could hardly contain his half-drunken laughter.

"You will never get off of this planet alive!" Kakkarott exclaimed, on the verge of madness as he was forced to watch a beating that he could not stop. "Vejita will kill you before you can even reach the loading docks!"

Yamcha snickered, still grasping Bulma by the wrap and hair. "That is where you are mistaken. Your war-loving prince gave me an hour to get off the planet before the war begins. An hour is all I need." Then he was leaving, grinning triumphantly as Bulma screamed. "See you later, dumbass." As he began to drag her away, a torn piece of her wrap fluttered to the ground, like a dying butterfly.

The human guards, with their foreign weapons and taunting expressions, surrounded Yamcha, providing him with a clean escape. Kakkarott was only able to rush after them, shouting Bulma's name, before it was too late.

Before they exited, he caught a last glimpse of the ethearal woman as Yamcha dragged her away to certain doom. Her face was twisted into an expression of agony and sadness, and was marred with ugly bruises by Yamcha's hand. Bow-shaped lips called out in pain and desperation for anyone who might help her. But the most disturbing of all were her eyes-- wide, frightened cerulean pools of unending sorrow reaching out to him, begging him for the help that he could not give.

And then she was gone.
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Vejita arrived at the room mere minutes after Yamcha and Bulma left, looking as stressed as Kakkarott had ever seen him. When he caught sight of the other man sitting on the bed, staring forlornly forward, his expression fell.

"You're too late," Kakkarott said quietly, his brown eyes remorseful. "She's gone."

"What do you mean, 'gone'?" the prince demanded. "That's what you were put here to prevent, you fool!"

Kakkarott averted his eyes down to his feet. "I know that. Yamcha came in with guards who had guns. He had them aimed on me as he dragged Bulma away and he... he hit her several times."

Vejita wanted to kill Kakkarott for his imcompetance, but knew that it really wasn't his fault. It was his. He had given the human bastard on hour window to get away, and an hour was more than long enough to retrieve Bulma first. The prince could have killed somebody. "Something can still be done," he said desperately. "We can stop them from leaving the planet, ambush their ship, and take the woman."

"They're armed, remember?" Kakkarott shook his head at Vejita's faulty reasoning. They had guns, definitely, but not nearly enough to take down a ship. "This isn't about just you and Bulma anymore, Vejita-sama. This is about two planets now-- two populations of innocent people that you and Magdalene have to put first. Bulma's in trouble, but we have no choice, and neither does she."

Vejita glowered, knowing that what Kakkarott was saying was right but not wanting to accept it. "I refuse to sit on my ass and let her be tortured by that son of a bitch!"

"Think about what you're saying," Kakkarott advised seriously. "If Bulma were in your situation, she would protect her people and put her personal feelings aside."

"Enough damned preaching!" Vejita clenched his fists, fighting his famous temper as well as his emotions towards Bulma. As much as he hated to admit it (and oh, did he loathe the thought), Kakkarott was right. He had fought in countless wars in his lifetime, and this one would require his full and complete attention. After all, recovering hostages like Bulma was part of the war-planning process, was it not? The prince forced himself to temporarily accept that cruel reality, then looked back up at Kakkarott, who watched him through uncharacteristically calculating eyes. "Fine. I will fight this war, and when I arrive on the humans' planet, I will get the woman back and then kill Yamcha with my bare hands!"

Kakkarott was not sure how well the volatile man would be able to hold out without losing control completely, but was more than willing to assist him until that dreaded day. "Sounds like a plan. Do you have the council getting ready?"

"What kind of imbecile do you take me for?"

The other man held up his hands defensively. "Sorry. I'm just trying to make sure that everything is going to be okay."

"Then go do that where it'll be appreciated," Vejita ordered roughly.

Kakkarott stood to leave, then turned and put a hand on his prince's shoulder. The man was trying his best to hide his pain, but it was obvious to a life-long friend that Vejita was undergoing extreme agony. It could all be seen in the Saiyan's smoldering black eyes. "I know how hard it must be for you," he sympathized quietly. "When I was talking to Bulma, it was plain as day that she's going to miss you as much as you do her. Stay focused, Vejita-sama, for her sake."

Vejita was silent as Kakkarott slowly left the room, leaving him alone with his turbulent emotions. The prince stood for a moment, trying to maintain his cool composure, then turned and started to leave. As he was going, however, something at his feet caught his attention. Curious in spite of himself, he bent to pick it up, and when he did, felt a fresh jolt of anger rock him.

It was a ripped piece of a woman's wrap-- Bulma's wrap, he knew, from the sweet smell and azure color almost as blue as her eyes. Imagining Yamcha tearing her garment as he attacked her, Vejita scowled and crinkled the thin material in his hand.

When he encountered that man again, there would be hell to pay.
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Bulma was dragged out of the palace in a dazed, almost dreamlike state. She barely saw the beautiful tapestries and grand rooms of the palace go by as they passed, nor did she feel her husband's merciless hands on her wrap and in her hair. All that she knew was her own sorrow, so deep that she felt as if she were drowning in it.

She would never forget the helpless, sympathetic look on Kakkarott's face as she was beaten and taken away like a used-up whore by her own husband. She knew that Vejita would not be able to stop Yamcha from leaving the planet with her, bound by his own bold words, and she knew that when he found Kakkarott alone, he would be furious. She hoped that he wouldn't take his anger out on poor Kakkarott and do something that he would later regret. All that she could hope for was that Vejita and Magdalene (that is, if she could even stomach the sight of Bulma anymore) would plan well and plan quickly so that the war would be over soon.

War. She could still hardly believe that it was happening. Vejita had wanted it all along, too. He had broken his promise. Bulma shed tears over this, but in her heart she could not hate the prince for it. It had been inevitable, and they all knew that. She could see why he would want to speed it up-- the less time it took, the less preparations Yamcha would be able to make, therefore giving the war-knowledgable Saiyans an early advantage. A huge advantage. But many deaths on both sides were to be expected, Bulma supposed. Perhaps if Yamcha hadn't had time to rally enough soldiers and weapons, the humans could be crushed easier. Bulma could hardly believe her thoughts-- she was going against her own kind! But thinking back on her life, she knew that this was only way she was capable of thinking. It was the only way that she could think, after all that she had been through.

"Its about time!" Yamcha suddenly exclaimed to the humans standing near the ship, shattering Bulma's trance and bringing her back to reality. "Load up as much as you can in thirty minutes, then prepare for our departure."

The men bowed, then rushed to their ship, where piles of their belongings waited. Just the sight of their ship made Bulma's stomach turn with memories of her hellish home, and the undoubtedly harsh punishment that awaited her there. Yamcha, however, grinned broadly.

"Doesn't it make you want to smile?" he teased her. Then his grip on her hair and wrap released, and Bulma thudded to the ground. All the feeling on her scalp was gone. "I would suggest that you follow me like a good girl. I would have to have to chain you up like an animal before we even get on the ship."

'Before we even get on the ship.' Bulma was hardly surprised. If she was lucky, chains would be the worst of it. But she would be underestimating Yamcha by harboring such a foolish hope. Yamcha's blood ran thick with jealousy and cruelty-- a deadly combination.

Faced with no other choice, Bulma shakily stood. The few Saiyans that were unfortunate enough to be on the docks were being held at gunpoint to prevent their interference. Their dark eyes followed Bulma curiously, no doubt wondering why she looked as if she had sparred and lost. Either that, or they already knew. Ashamed, she kept her gaze down on her feet as they passed. Yamcha possessively gripped her left hand.

"Home sweet home-- well, almost," Yamcha said happily. "I am so glad that we're finally getting back to civilized society. Aren't you?"

Bulma scowled, an expression that looked foreign on her face. "Civilized society does not exist on Earth."

Yamcha took the opprotunity to coolly split open her lip, then wiped her blood from his fingers as if it were toxic. "Cute. I assume sarcasm is a trait learned from your Saiyan lover."

Bulma did not speak, just used her free hand to cover her bleeding lower lip. If she had been born stronger, she would have returned her husband's blow gladly, but Fate was not that kind. Shamed further by her weak and helpless state, the queen quickly glanced over her shoulder to see if the Saiyans had witnessed Yamcha's blow.

Not surprisingly, they had. One hooded man even went so far as to look her in the eyes. Bulma did not look away, because the face looked familiar from beneath that dark cloth. As if sensing her recognition, he took his hood down, and Bulma saw that it was none other than Turles, watching her sullenly, no doubt as Vejita's eyes.

"What are you gaping at?" Yamcha demanded, turning to follow Bulma's gaze. Thankfully, Turles had put his hood back up, concealing himself once more. "Stupid girl-- your monkey prince is not coming for you. He himself allowed us the time to escape! Face it, you were a good fuck and nothing else."

Bulma did not look over her shoulder again. "When he finds you," she began seriously. "I wish to be there so that I can watch him tear you from limb to limb."

Yamcha stared at her, shocked, for a moment. Never had he heard Bulma utter such venomous words to him, and by no means did he like it. In a fit of rage, he shoved her to the ground and knelt down beside her, his fingers digging into her throat until she turned an unhealthy shade of red, gasping for air. "How dare you speak to me in such a manner! If it weren't for my generosity, you would still just be another courtier! Without my cooperation with your mother, you would never have been so lucky as to become my wife and queen! You owe me respect, if nothing else!"

Bulma struggled to speak. "I never wanted to be your wife," she hissed. "I never wanted to be your queen, nor have I ever wanted to be in your court! I would rather die a thousand painful deaths!"

Yamcha's face contored with deadly malice. "Be careful what you wish for!" Then he was lifting her up by one small wrist, dragging her to the ship.

"No!" Bulma shouted in protest, struggling for all her battered body was worth against Yamcha's grip. "Let me go!"

Yamcha had quickly grown tired of this game. He did what Bulma had suggested and released her, but he was not finished yet. Savagely, he backhanded her across the face, sending her borderline-unconscious body to the ground once more. Then he roughly took hold of her long hair and continued dragging her up the ramp of the ship, where he paused to take a final look at Vejitasei with a victorious grin.

Bulma looked also through her half-closed eyes, uselessly fighting the blackness that was threatening to consume her. Her body went limp with the realization that she would most likely never live to see this place of dreams again, and that alone was enough to take the last bits of fight out of her. The last thing that she saw before succumbing to the darkness was the far-off shimmer of the sea.
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Turles' blood boiled at the sight of Bulma's bloodied face, courtesy of her own husband. Never in his life had he witnessed such a pathetic display. He had been sent down by Vejita to make sure that Yamcha didn't kill the woman, and now, after seeing this fiasco, he could be sure that Bulma's life was safe. Yamcha planned to make her life hell for some time, that much was clear.

Originally, he had thought that Bulma would be able to survive the ravagings and such until they were able to save her, but after looking into her eyes for that brief moment, Turles wasn't so sure. For in those teary blue orbs lay much more than fear. What lurked in that one woman's eyes was the depression that he had seen only in the most unfortunte of torture victims. It was the lingering agony that some people were forced to bear all their lives, the kind of wound that did not heal with time-- merely festered, worsened. And much more disturbing than that was the obvious hopelessness that Bulma had betrayed. It was enough to make even the callous Turles wonder what had made life so terrible for this outwardly perfect woman.

Yes, she would survive the attacks physically, but mentally, she was doomed. They would be lucky if she were able to be contained in a fucking straightjacket after all of this.

Seeing that the ship was about to depart, Turles pulled his hood closer and moved back into the palace, where he woudl have to face Prince Vejita's wrath. At this, he scowled. What had he been expecting-- for the bitch to sprout wings and fly away from danger? Not likely, though after all of the strange shit that had been happening lately, Turles hardly would have been surprised.

As he approached the throne room, where everyone (well, everyone important, anyway) was gathered, he took down his hood and tossed his cloak aside. It was too damned hot on this planet to wear it anyway, he complained inwardly. The guards at the doors nodded nervously as he passed, which told him that tempers were flaring inside.

"Should I fear for my life, boys?" he asked, only half-joking.

One of the guards shuddered. "Alls I can say is, don't try to tell Prince Vejita good-afternoon, ya know what I mean?"

His partner chuckled tensely. "Or Queen Magdalene, for that matter."

Turles scowled. They weren't going to take this well.
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Rhapsody~*
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A/N: Hey everyone... Hope that I didn't keep ya waiting for too long. This would have been posted yesterday, but thanks to the 'Great American Blackout', I had some difficulties getting it on the damned computer. And by the way, does anybody know whats wrong with Mediaminer? I haven't been able to access that site in ages. Oh well... Hopefully they'll forgive me... sometime this century... ^_^;; Oh yes, and please check out "My Immortal" sung by Evanescence. If you can, please look at the lyrics as well. I think that it perfectly captures the mood of this fic. If fanfiction had a soundtrack, that would be number one on my CD! Hope y'all like it! And thanks soooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much for your fantastic feedback on the last chapter! I coudln't BELIEVE all of the response! I LOOOOOOOVE you guys!!!!!!! Keep it up! Until the next chapter...


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