Gundam Wing Fan Fiction / Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction / Ronin Warriors Fan Fiction ❯ Hunting The Dragon ❯ Chapter One: The Dragon Lord and His Servant ( Chapter 1 )

Hunting The Dragon

(Author's Notes: This is an AU crossover of Gundam Wing, Dragon Ball Z, and Ronin Warriors, set in a time of magic. Warning, there is yaoi in it, which means there are male/male relationships in it. Flame me all you want, my once loyal reviewers. I don't care. You'll have to deal with it. Well, enjoy the story! Ja! ~AC)

Prologue-

"It was a time of magic and mystery, when mermaids roamed the sea, and dragons truly existed. Ah, dragons," sighed the storyteller, his eyes brightening with wonder. "I remember dragons."

"You've seen dragons?" piped up one of the children who sat circled around him. The
storyteller chuckled softly in amusement.

"Yes, young one. In fact, I knew one very well. He was a dragon lord." The children all
sighed in wonder. Dragon lords still remained in fairy tales, of dragons who could take the form of a human.

"Tell us a story about the dragon lord," begged the child who had spoken before, and
instantly the other children clamored in.

"Yes! Tell us of the dragon lord! Please, storyteller, please!" The man smiled gently
down at them.

"I will," was his reply, and the children grew silent as they waited for his words.

"As I said, it was a time of magic and mystery, but alas, it was also a time when all
magical beasts were hunted. And dragon lords most of all. For you see, when a dragon lord's heart was cut out, it took the form of a huge ruby, as red as blood and as large as an adult man. So men, called dragon slayers, hunted them.

The dragon lord I knew was as handsome as they came, with long tresses of lavender, and
piercing sapphire blue eyes that held the wisdom of a thousand years within them. For he was exactly that, over a thousand years old, almost two thousand, in fact, because, unlike mortal men, a hundred years was a mere year to them. Among his people, he was called
T'ronku'ura'nak'kere'sa, but among humans, he was simply called Trunks. He held his lithe frame as would a royal king, and when he spoke, his soft, husky tone somehow managed to convey any emotion he wanted without changing expression. Then came the age of hunting, and Trunks, as were all his kind, was hunted. He fled with his human servant, a human called Trowa. Together they fled from the three dragon slayers who pursued them. Perhaps it was destiny that those three should be ones to chase after that certain dragon lord. Perhaps it was merely luck. I suppose I shall never know.

But as it was, the three infamous dragon slayers were the ones to follow the fleeing
dragon lord and servant, and fate was put into action. The weeks that followed would change the course of history."

"How?" asked a little girl, her eyes round with curiosity. The storyteller smiled, and
leaned forward to match the girl's wide-eyed stare eye for eye.

"I shall tell you," he said softly, and began.


Chapter One: The Dragon Lord and His Servant

"We'd best continue on our way, sire." The soft words made the lavender-locked young man look up from washing his face in the stream. Water droplets glittered on his pale, lilac lashes as he dried his visage with a rag his servant handed him.

"We should, Trowa," he said quietly in reply, his sapphire blue orbs flickering nervously towards the trees around them, as if their stalkers would leap out at them at any second. "And, as I have told you before, call me Trunks."

The normally grim-faced servant smiled slightly, and bowed. "As you wish, sire Trunks." Trunks the Dragon Lord paused in wiping his face to roll his eyes towards the emerald-eyed man.

"Very funny, but close enough, I suppose," he sighed, handing the rag back to Trowa, who accepted it silently. "Where should we head to now?"

"I think I saw a sign that said there is a town nearby, milord," said the servant, rising
to point the way left. Trunks nodded.

"Then let us be off."

"As you wish, milord." With that quiet reply, Trowa began to walk in the direction he
himself had pointed. Trunks fell in step behind him, his eyes continuing to dart among the trees, seeking the enemy he knew was somewhere. Somewhere.

The two arrived at the town of Yearlings in less than an hour, slipping into the place's busiest inn unnoticed.

"Would you happen to have a room with two beds, fair mistress?" questioned Trowa, bowing towards the dark-haired beauty that stood behind the inn's register. The woman smiled in return, her dark, almost black, almond-shaped eyes twinkling.

"Of course we do, dearie," she replied, inclining her head politely. "I'm Videl,
innkeeper of this establishment. How long do you two plan to stay here?" Trowa and Trunks exchanged glances, and at last, Trunks spoke, his words quiet and sincere.

"I know not, lady innkeeper. Perhaps a single night, perhaps two. I shall pay you in
advance for both, just in case." Videl smiled at the obvious royalty presiding in her inn.

"Thank you, milord. I'll have that room for you both in just one moment," she said, after
Trunks had handed her the money, before disappearing up the stairs. Trunks let his eyes wander around the room.

The inn was well kept, the main hall empty except for customers. To the right and through a doorway he saw a bar, which he ignored. Alcohol was deadly to all dragons, even dragon lords. To the left and through another door, was a small store where a smiling woman worked.

"You two new 'round here?" a voice asked from behind them. Trunks and Trowa both turned, Trunks's hand instinctively going to the hilt of his sword.

The man who had spoken raised an eyebrow, looking amused. "Steady there, kids. I wasn't trying to rob you or anything. I simply asked a question." The dark azure-haired man crossed his muscular arms against his broad chest, waiting.

"Yes, we're new around here," Trunks said, answering the man's earlier question. "Why do you ask?" The man smiled, his dark blue eyes lighting with a merry fire.

"I'm Kento, the one who keeps all the troublemakers in line at this inn," he said. "I was
asking because I make it my business to know newcomers. Have you two been traveling for long?" His eyes traveled down the two's obviously rich clothes of what had once been silk finery and such, but now were slightly ragged and dusty from their journeys.

Trowa shrugged, but his companion said, "Only a couple weeks or so. Have you worked at the inn long?" Kento shook his head, a roguish smile forming on his lips.

"I used to be a bouncer at the nearby tavern, but then I got a little... er, rough with
some of the customers," he replied with his own shrug. Both of the travelers raised eyebrows, but neither said their private thoughts aloud. "Anyway, I wanted to warn you of something." Immediately, both dragon lord and servant tensed, Trunks's eyes once more flickering nervously for the door.

"Warn us of what?" At last Trowa spoke, his words low and soft. Kento shrugged
off-handedly.

"You seem to carry a lot of money with you. I've already seen well-known thieves eyeing
your purse. You'd best hide it," he stated calmly, but his right hand stroked the hilt of a long, cruel-looking dirk. "If you want, I'll take watch outside your door tonight and however long you stay here." Trunks relaxed slightly, although Trowa didn't.

"We'd be thankful for your help and concern, sir," the dragon lord said softly. Kento
grinned good-naturedly, his eyes twinkling.

"Anything for a fellow wanderer," he said, then, his words so soft only Trunks heard them, and wasn't sure if he had heard correctly, "and fellow noble." Trunks blinked.

"Sir?" Kento, however, grinned broadly, and shook his head.

"Call me Kento, sir." Trunks pushed the questioning thoughts into the back of his mind,
and replied.

"If I call you Kento, you must call me..." He hesitated slightly, and then said his name
with an almost daring sort of tone. "Trunks."

"And I am Trowa," said his servant, emerald eyes rising from the floor to meet Kento's.

"What, Kento? You've already befriended these two?" An amused voice stated, and the three turned to see Videl smiling at them. She extended a key towards Trowa, who was nearest. "Here is the key to your room, milord." Trunks nodded, bowing to her formally.

"Thank you, milady. I'm sure it will suit us well," he said softly, and followed after
his servant and new friend.

That night, Trunks and Trowa slept easily, comfortable in their warm beds, a delight they hadn't enjoyed in the months since the Hunting had begun. While the two dreamed soundly, Kento sat outside the door, ever watchful, his dark blue eyes watching every shadow.

The next day, however, Trunks and Trowa were rudely awakened by Kento's strangled yell.

"Milord!" came the cry. "Flee!" Half awake, the two leapt to their feet, hands on their
weapons as they raced for the door. Before they reached it, the door fell off its hinges with an explosive bang.

"Damn!" Trunks cursed, before turning in half-run and racing towards the window before
the attackers could see his face. Trowa followed quickly after. Without hesitation, Trunks threw himself through the glass window, ignoring the burning pain as shards of glass buried themselves into his flesh. The dragon lord fell silently three stories, and landed gracefully, continuing to run, his servant close behind, the light umber-haired man landing like a feline. They ignored the angry cries of their pursuers, fleeing into the dawning light as Kento's angry form blocked the shattered window from the three who stood before him.

His eyes hard and cold, the dark-haired man glared at the three men dressed as dragon slayers who stood before him.

"I'm not letting you kill my friends," he snarled, meanwhile wondering which one of the
two travelers had been the dragon lord they searched for. Ah, no matter. He would defend his new friends until the end. With that thought, he flourished his dirk, its blade glinting ominously in the dimly lighted room's glow.

"Stand aside, boy," drawled one of the men impatiently, his tiger-blue eyes cold and dangerous as he shifted his grip on his own drawn blades, two deadly looking swords. "Dragon lords are monsters, savage beasts. We're merely doing our jobs. Stand aside." Kento smirked coldly, crouching into a familiar fighter's stance.

"Never," he said, and the three men closed in on him, their eyes icy and impersonal.


"Are you all right, milord?" Trowa called from behind Trunks, his voice sounding worried. Even from his position behind the dragon lord, the servant could see the crimson blood that stained his lord's tattered clothes.

Trunks's breathing was harsh and labored. "I'll... be fine... Just keep... running!" Even though Trowa disbelieved his lord's words, the servant had never disobeyed an order, and so continued to run.


They had been running for a while. That was all Trunks's mind processed before he collapsed in a heap onto the forest's soft floor, his head spinning from loss of blood.

"Milord!" Trowa was there in an instant, kneeling down beside the young man, looking
worried. Trunks managed a small smile, feeling the soft, soothing feel of moss beneath him.

"I'm... fine," he breathed, before his eyes fluttered close, and the dragon lord lay
still. Trowa looked around in panic. He was no healer, and he saw nothing to stop the heavy bleeding. Plus, Trunks had already lost too much blood...

With a sudden decision, Trowa rose to his feet, his emerald gaze making sure that the dragon lord was truly and completely unconscious. Then he threw back his head and did something he hadn't done in the eight years he had been in servitude to Lord Trunks.

He used the magic that flowed within his veins, and spoke to the animals.

"Animals of the forest!" he cried with the tongue of all beasts. "Hear my plea! My companion lies hurt, and I have need of one who heals! Help me, for I am a friend of all beasts, and my injured companion is a dragon lord who is hunted as many of you are! Beasts of the forest please help!" Trowa fell silent, and waited for a reply that could spell life or death for his lord.