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night-faye · 3 years

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Hunted and Merlin👀👀👀? For Angst for April?

SO! It’s not explicitly angsty, but it certainly has some undertones of it! I apologize if it isn’t exactly what you were looking for, but if it’s any consolation, I am seriously thinking about continuing this!

An arrow whizzed by his ear, and Arthur turned fast, eyes widening as he searched the tree line, his heart pounding in his chest as his fingers flexed around the hilt of his sword, leather wrappings digging into the skin of his palm.

He swallowed, and turned back to the arrow, lodged impossibly deep into the trunk of a tree. Leon was inspecting it carefully, lining his sword with the shaft and attempting to figure out the trajectory.

Arthur turned, then, to Elyan and Percival, both adjusting nervously. They were good knights, no matter what his father said about him choosing to bestow noble titles onto commoners.

Elyan was, after all, just as educated as any other noble, and was the son of the royal blacksmith besides, there was nothing to say he couldn’t bestow a title onto him.

And Percival had saved his life, once. It had seemed only right to keep him close, since the large man had no objections to it.

So, as much as Uther complained, there was no way he could actually rip them of their titles without outcry from the counselors. For Uther was the first of his line to reign, so all the knights that had fought at his side had once been nothing but commoners or outsiders under the last king. There was not yet a strong line of nobility to lean back on. Arthur had every right to add his own trusted names to such a list.

Another arrow whizzed, and this one sliced across his cheek, behind a small, torn open scratch, before lodging into the slightly damp dirt of the trail with a thump.

“Sire!” Leon called. Arthur blinked, and lifted his fingers to the wound as he stared at the arrow, before drawing them back and looking at them.

The wound was barely even bleeding, his fingers only slightly streaked with blood. That was not a miss, and Arthur was beginning to think neither was the first one.

“These are warning shots,” he said, looking up at his three knights. “Warning shots from an incredibly skilled marksman.”

“What are they warning us about?” Elyan asked, adjusting his grip on his sword, and falling into a defensive stance, eyes flicking across the tree lines.

There was a massive roar, and it rumbled through the air, shaking the ground. The trees around them swayed dangerously, a few trunks cracking slightly.

“That,” a new voice said, and Arthur snapped his head up, coming face to face with a man who had to be younger than him, with black hair and ocean-blue eyes. He was standing on a thick, sturdy branch, and his dark blue cloak was flowing behind him and swaying slightly in the breeze, the hood halfway pulled over his head.

It didn’t hide the glint of a circlet made of silver leaves that bore a blue, teardrop gemstone in the middle of his forehead, hung slightly below the circlet by a chain.

Two cloaks, one a blue slightly lighter than the blue-eyed one’s, the other a foresty green that blended in with the leaves, dangled on either side of him. Whoever they were, sitting on the branch above him, they were both well hidden by the foliage. The only other visible thing was their dark, hard eyes, shadowed by the hoods of their cloaks.

The one he could see, standing on the lower branch, crouched down. He was holding a delicately carved bow, the wood engraved with swirling gold, and it now hung loosely from his fingertips, the quiver strapped to his back shifting slightly with his movements. He looked, mostly, annoyed.

“Kilgharrah doesn’t like strangers in his part of the woods. Especially strangers from Camelot.” he said, practically spitting the name of Arthur’s kingdom.

“Who is Kilgharrah? And why does he hate Camelot so much?” he asked.

The stranger tilted his head, and the sun streaming in between the leaves caught his eyes, and Arthur could’ve sworn there was a glimmer of gold running through the blue of them.

“Because the king of that land, Uther Pendragon, had him imprisoned for fifteen years.”

Arthur furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“For existing,” the stranger said, shrugging.

Arthur frowned. That didn’t really… Well, it did sound like his father, but surely he would have heard of a prisoner like that.

“Surely it isn’t as simple as that,” Leon spoke up. Arthur looked over to him, slightly startled. He hadn’t realized the knight had made his way over to Arthur’s side. “Surely this Kilgharrah must have done something beyond just existing?”

“He didn’t. He was a friend of my father’s, and Uther used my father to lure him into a trap, before turning on him, and chasing him from his home.”

“There has to be more to it,” Leon insisted. The stranger looked past them for a moment, and his face furrowed as if he were having an argument, before he rolled his eyes and looked back to Leon.

“Like I said. Kilgharrah never caused anyone harm. But Uther saw fit to eradicate magic from Albion. And that included Kilgharrah and his kind. He is the last of the dragons, and Uther kept him alive, as a trophy, under the castle of Camelot.”

Arthur’s gut twisted, but Leon spoke before he could.

“Dragons are dangerous creatures without reason!! How could you claim he’s never done any harm!?”

The stranger’s calm face fell, at that, and rage flashed across his features like a thunderclap. “Because he had a chance to demolish your beloved kingdom when I freed him, and perhaps I should’ve let him, but he listened to me even without my father’s powers, and he left it alone to live peacefully within these forests. Tell me, first knight, does that sound like a dangerous creature without reason?”

Leon opened his mouth, but didn’t say anymore. The stranger had a point.

The stranger had several points. Arthur has thought, for a long time now, that surely not everyone who possessed magic could be evil, and yet his father hunted them down indiscriminately, simply for existing.

And it sounded to him like that was what happened to this man’s father.

“You know who Leon is, then?”

“I do,” the stranger said, nodding. The calm returned to his face as he turned to look at Arthur. “As I know who you are, Prince Arthur.”

“Who are you?” Arthur asked, taking a step forward, and craning his head. The stranger smiled at that, a soft thing, his eyes crinkling with laughter not yet released.

“You wouldn’t know me.”

“Perhaps I should,” Arthur said, tilting his head. “I will be king one day, and there are several things I plan to do differently to how my father has done things. Perhaps I can learn something from you.”

There was a short burst of laughter coming from higher up, and the edges of the cape to the strangers left was shaking, slightly.

“Now that’s a good one!” A new voice crowed, lined with laughter. The stranger looked up at the person, frowning slightly.

“Now, Gwaine, perhaps he’s being earnest.”

“He’s a prince, Merls,” The voice, Gwaine, apparently, said. “What’s to say this isn’t a trick to lure you down there, so he can slice you down like his father has been trying to for the past eight years?”

“Gwaine,” another voice piped up, coming from the right of the stranger, ‘Merls’ sounded like a nickname, but Arthur wasn’t sure what it was deriving from. “He’s knighted two commoners, already. Maybe he really is different?”

“Excuse me,” Elyan called, he and Percival having joined the small group under the tree with the three strangers. “But, does that mean Uther knows of you?”

The stranger looked down, and smiled at Elyan, something sparkling in his eyes. “He does, Sir Elyan, brother of Gwen.”

Elyan’s eyes widened, slightly. “You know my sister?”

The stranger’s smile widened, and he nodded. “I do, she’s very sweet. You should do more things to help her, though.”

Elyan blushed at that, a little embarrassed, and he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Right, I will.”

“Elyan!” Leon crowed, and Elyan turned to look at Leon, lifting a brow.

“What? Mystery woodsy archer knows my sister, can convince a dragon of anything, and tells me to help her out more? What am I going to do? Not listen?”

There was another burst of laughter, though this one came from the stranger’s right side, the one who had chastised ‘Gwaine’, and suddenly the owner of it dropped down to the branch that the stranger was on, dark eyes bright, and short brown hair shifting slightly from his movement. “Wise words. Merlin’s very protective of his friends, after all.”

‘Ah, so his name is Merlin,’ Arthur thought, tilting his head as he looked back to him. ‘It fits.’

“My father has been hunting you for eight years?” Arthur asked, trying to get the conversation back to something a bit more sensible. Merlin tilted his head back to Arthur.

“Yes, he has.”

“Why?”

Merlin shrugged, easy acceptance. “Because I exist. Because he sees me as a threat.”

Arthur furrowed his brows, he was doing that a lot, actually. “Because you can control the dragon? Shouldn’t he try and make you an ally?”

The one that the as-yet unnamed stranger and Merlin called Gwaine dropped down, long, dark hair shifting and sweeping around his face, something shadowy in his brown eyes, creasing the laughter-lines at the corners of his eyes into something different. “Do you actually know your father at all? Or are you just that naïve?”

He was… Well, he was right. Arthur pressed his lips together. “I try to imagine he doesn’t let his bias against magic cloud his tactical judgment. It’s not the easiest thing to do, given the surplus of evidence to the contrary.”

Gwaine tossed his head back with a bark of laughter. “Alright, so you’re at least funny.” He tilted his head to face Merlin, “Maybe there’s something to your theory of his earnesty.”

Merlin smiled, and if Arthur knew him better, he might say it was smug.

The yet-unnamed one dropped down to the forest floor, straightening up and grinning. “So, you want advice on how to rule better than your father?”

Arthur swallowed, and nodded. “I do. It’s why I came out here. I have a friend, someone I consider a sister, I want to make the kingdom safe for her and people like her. She told me to seek someone named ‘Emrys’, said he could be found somewhere around these parts, and that he could help me.”

The unnamed-one, and Arthur was very close to just asking for it already, nodded, before looking up to Merlin and Gwaine. “Well, did’ja hear that, Gwaine?”

Gwaine pursed his lips, and glared down at the unnamed one. “Oh, shut up, Lancelot,” he said, rolling his eyes.

Merlin, however, finally dropped down. “Well, apparently, I was wrong. You do know of me.”

Arthur blinked, and furrowed his eyebrows. “I… Is ‘Merlin’ not your name?”

Merli- Emry- Whatever his name was, tossed his head back, laughter spilling from his lips.

“It is,” He said, before he shrugged. “But Emrys is another name for me. I don’t often answer to it, though.”

“You always get such a look when the druids refuse to call you Merlin,” Lancelot, and Arthur silently thanked god that he finally had a name for the man, pointed out, a chuckle lining his words.

“It’s the name my mother gave me, I’m not going to just toss it away for some name linked to the destiny that’s been getting me hunted down since my birth.”

“That sounds fair, Merlin,” Arthur said, and the smile that Merlin gave him at that made him feel inexplicable warm.

“Well, then. I suppose we should get to talking, M’lord,” he said, bowing slightly. Though the look in his eyes, and the quirk of his lips, told Arthur that it was less meant as a proper address, and much more of a joke than it sounded.

He’d take it.

“I suppose we should.”

Gwaine dropped down, and that’s when Arthur noticed a sword sheath, with a sword in it, strapped to his side. On second inspection, Lancelot had one as well. He wondered if they were as skilled with them as Merlin was with his bow.

And, well, with the way they were both standing, at ease but ready to shift into battle stances, he wouldn’t be at all surprised if they were.

“So,” he said, straightening slightly, though it still didn’t bring him to Merlin’s height. “When are we going to start?”

Posted on AO3 - Here

Prompt list - Here

#BBC Merlin #Merlin #Arthur Pendragon #Lancelot #Leon #Gwaine #Faye's AUs: Forest Prince #Angst for April #Faye Writes

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abysmaluck · 4 years

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SoulNet AU- Love is the flower you've got to let grow

Everyone has soulmates. It's a fact. Everyone has them; and it's not just one. In a world with 7.8 Billion people it's crazy to think that there is only ONE perfect person out there for anyone. In truth no one is perfect, and people can have more than one soulmate. Not all soulmates are romantic, various stay platonic but there are always more than one which creates the Soulmate Network. The Soulmate Network is the interconnected paths that bring soulmates together whether platonically or romantically. Remember it’s a network, so communication is key and extremely important amongst soulmates. There are some things to distinguish the difference between platonic and romantic; platonic soulmates all share in their Soul Journal; these journals appear around ages 5-7 and connects one with their platonic soulmates. Romantic Soulmates will also be able to use the journal; but they gain telepathic communications giving privacy and allowing them to fall in love without the wondering eyes of others.

Felix didn't believe he had a soulmate. After all he's lived until the age of 15 without one. His SoulNet journal was painfully blank even when he tried writing in it when he was a child to see no response. So he believed he was soulless and meant to deal with fate handing him nothing. That is...until he moved to Paris permanently.

"My little magician, I know you are cross with me now. But I think this move is just what we need." Amelie Graham de Vanily spoke while watching her son with the corner of her eyes.

He had been in the same stance since they got in their car and were traveling from the airport to the hotel, they will momentarily call home. He was not happy with the idea of a move, quite adamant that it would be awful, a mistake. That they would have to move between Paris and London for work, so it was a waste of time. He was rigid, his posture nothing but elegant and regal. He was tense the moment they landed in Paris which was not lost onto Amelie. Could he be worried about his uncle? The shine from the platinum Graham de Vanily ring on her son's finger caught her attention. No that didn't seem right, Felix wouldn't one to worry over the likes of Gabriel. Especially considering how they have been lately.

Could it be because they were leaving their old life behind? Did her son believe that this meant she was using this move to get over Alex? That felt a more probable reasoning. Lex and Felix were the closest of friends before the illness, and perhaps the thought of leaving London saddened her son immensely. Seeing as they were also leaving so many memories of his father behind. They were also leaving his father's and her own soul network behind, so there were no adopted aunts and uncles to play around, or help them. No one else that loved Alex as much as she and Felix did. Amelie touched the pendant that hung around her neck thoughtfully as she thought to decipher her son’s somber mood.

"I'm not cross with you mother, I just don't think Paris would be good for us. Especially with the awful villain that targets negative emotions. What kind of toxic masculinity does Hawkmoth have that he punishes everyone who is intune with their emotions, especially the negative ones." Felix explained injecting enough concern into his voice so his mother could try to understand his thoughts. He noticed the moment she grasped his meanings, her eyes softened in maternal care, and she wrapped her arms around him pulling him into a hug.

"Oh Felix, darling you don't have to worry about your mother. I’ll be alright." Amelie cooed to her son feeling how the boy softened in her hold. Her darling boy, he was talking about his father’s wishes to heart in taking care of her. A part of her was warmed by the thought of her son’s devotion and care but the other was saddened. He was far too young for the ideas of such responsibilities. Her little magician had to learn to take care of himself first.

"You don't have to worry about me." Felix countered his ear was pressed to her chest listening to the steady beat of her heart. The rhythmic beat soothed him, a reminder that she was there with him alive.

"Darling as your mother it's my job to worry and care." Amelie hummed as Felix seemed to cuddle further to her side relaxing for the first time since they landed. Paris was strange for him since last he was there, it was strange. As if the very sky was charged with static, and his heart quickened it’s beat with no true reasoning for such tachycardia. His mother must have sensed his unease and was trying to comfort him.

"Dad left me in charge of the family, it's my job to worry too." Felix reminded his mother seeing her melancholy smile, his gave flicked down to her necklace as if reaffirming his vows to his departed sire. His heart felt it was being squeezed softly by that openly loving gaze and it was hard to maintain her eye contact. He knew his mother didn't want him to worry. She more than anything wanted him to experience, to enjoy himself like other kids, find his joie de vivre; but he couldn't help the desire, the need to eye on her. On doing anything to have her happy, with dad gone now he had the duty, and privilege of keeping his mother’s smile.

"Then we'll be forever worrying about each other." Amelie conceded kissing his forehead resting her cheek on his head. "I don't know what we did, but I'm blessed having you little magician."

The open affection and admission warmed Felix, removing from his mind the worries that had been plaguing him as of late. Banishing the concerns over the strange feelings he had met in Paris. Perhaps Paris isn't that bad if it can bring his mother peace; it made it far more tolerable. He had not been able to see her smile in London. He had made up his mind in steering clear from his uncle in the meantime until he could locate the second ring and deliver it to his mother. Uncle was an Agreste, not a Graham de Vanily he had no claim to the rings. He had a thoughtful look as he pulled up his phone. Loathe to admit it, but he pulled up the Ladyblog looking through all the latest posts regarding the spotted heroine.

Ugh another stupid interview with that Lila Rossi. Felix thought to himself face curling in distaste. Honestly, anyone with two brain cells could see that she's an amateur grifter at best.

I know right? A voice echoed into his head causing Felix to pause. What was THAT? He couldn't attribute it to his own personal musings. The voice did not sound like his own, it was feminine and saturated with sarcasm. Once, twice Felix blinked comically as he focused inward. What kind of a voice was that? It sounded familiar, as if it once was spoken towards him but he couldn't place the name anywhere. How strange.

Are you there? The voice asked concern lacing the tones that were spoken. The echo distorted with the uncertainty spoken through the haze of his mind. Did I scare you off?

I wouldn't say scared off, Felix thought back with a frown. He wasn't scared by this mental intruder. That idea was erroneous and silly. He was a Graham de Vanily, he wasn’t going to get scared over a disembodied voice in his head. Simply...surprised.

I get that, the voice echoed back thoughtfully. I mean it's not every day you finally hear your romantic soulmate's voice.

What? That was such a joke, the disembodied voice in his head was his romantic soulmate. How preposterous, Felix didn't have a soul, which was why he had lived fifteen years with an empty book and an emptier head. There were no platonic soulmates to pass along his time; talk or doodle when bored in class or in a shoot. For when he would do some modeling gigs for the costume department ensuring the fit of the latest costume was perfect. There were no words of well wishers, of genuine sadness over the loss of his father. His own cousin, flesh and blood related to him, didn't care. Couldn’t even bother to visit, or send a note. So why should he have a soulmate? Much less a romantic one? He had studied that a few mental illnesses provided disembodied voices. Could it be that he had one of them? He chuckled, the sound mainly dark to his ears, regarding the notion. Mental illness was the last thing he and his mother needed to deal with. She looked down at him one perfect brow raised in curiosity. It wasn't like Felix to laugh with nothing suitable giving such a reaction.

"There's a French voice in my head telling me she's my soulmate. It’s silly, I mean I’ve never even had a platonic soulmate. We know I don’t have a soul." Felix answered honestly, he was never one to keep secrets from his mother. So, he didn’t think about how such words would affect her. A delighted gasp left Amelie as she sat straighter forcing Felix to do the same. Felix furrowed his brow in confusion, lips tilted downward. What on earth brought such a reaction? Oh, dear Lord, did she believe that soulmate nonsense?

"Darling, oh you've grown up so fast. Maybe all you needed was a change of scenery. How exciting." Amelie gushed cheeks pink with her smiles as she dove into her purse. A lilac colored journal with a yellow pencil was pulled out, and she opened it scribbling into it furiously. Embarrassment flooded into Felix as he saw his mother telling his aunts and uncles what just happened. To his horror he saw how a soft glow was leaving the notebook meaning that some of them were responding. Was it his uncle Gregory? Or worse Hororia?

"Mom, no stop." Felix cried in horror attempting to grab the journal out of her hands. She giggled impishly turning away as she finished her rant and closed the journal tucking it beneath her and out of Felix's grasp.

"Oh darling, this is wonderful news. Paris is known as the city of love, and you will discover yours. Honoria is demanding to know everything about your paramour, so I’d suggest you get to know them soon before she flies in demanding answers." Amelie sighed wistfully a bright smile on her face as she looked at Felix like he had gifted her a puppy, with the solution to end world hunger, and bring forth world peace.

“Mom.” Felix ground out holding the bridge of his nose while he attempted to call forth some semblance of patience. His mother was the most hopeless romantic he knew. Honestly, he should have been more careful with how he delivered the news. Hindsight was always perfect, which he could have used a few minutes ago. It would have saved him some trouble.

“Oh don’t ‘Mom’ me darling.” Amelie giggled infusing a perfect rendition of Felix’s deadpan delivery. “You’re just as bad as Lex was when he heard me the first time, I mean if Lex was here to experience this.”

Just like that the delighted joy and embarrassment were gone. Melancholy reared its head as mother and son thought of Alex Graham de Vanily. Both grabbed the pendants they wore as they thought of the man that left them behind. Felix locked his jaw forcing the sad emotions to be pushed down. He couldn’t afford becoming one of those tacky Akumas; he had to keep it together. On the same end, he couldn’t allow his mother to fall prey to those disgusting butterflies. To have her love and grief distorted by the machinations of a fiend like Hawkmoth? Felix would never allow such a thing to happen.

“Mom?” He asked taking her free hand and she sighed giving a sad smile.

“I’ll be fine darling, it’s just times like this are when I miss Lex the most. He would have been so happy for you my little magician.” Amelie promised Felix giving his hand a squeeze. “How about you try talking more with your soulmate? My journal has been driving me insane, the others are probably responding.” Felix nodded watching his mother pull out the notebook again as she began to read what her network left her. She wanted the distraction, the idea of his teenage love life and gossiping with her soulmates to remove the thoughts concerning father.

Um…soulmate? Are you ok? The voice asked again, startling Felix from his saddened musings.

I will be, I was in shock that’s all, thank you for asking. Felix replied, not wanting to exactly lie to his soulmate. If they are to be as important as all the books imagined, having a good rapport would be beneficial.

Well I hope so, I mean it came as a shock to me too. The voice spoke sweetly, a light presence against his darkened mind.

Thank you….so sorry I’ve not caught your name. Felix spoke with a small frown, how strange for this irrational magic to bind two people who didn’t even know each other.

Well, I haven’t given it. The voice answered with a hint of sass which had Felix give a little chuckle. Naughty girl, she sounded charming as far as the disembodied voice in one’s head went. You haven’t told me yours either; then again until we meet each other naturally, soulmate magic hides our identities.

True, I do recall that. How about this, we give each other a nickname. Like if we’re members of a forum. Felix suggested hearing a giggle bounce around his mind. He didn’t say anything funny. Did he? Reddit was a thing, forums still exist.

Members of a forum, oh god you sound so old. The voice giggled, the sound echoed in his mind and Felix couldn't help the indignant huff that left him. He must have done it mentally as well because her giggles grew louder.

I will have you know I am in my teens, I am not old. Felix sputtered with a pout. He didn't even recognize that they had reached the Grand Paris Hotel until he felt his mother tap his arm.

"We've arrived." Amelie spoke giving Felix the smallest smug smiles which caused his pout to worsen. "Now, darling."

So am I, but I don't talk like an old aristocrat. Why is your wording so formal? The voice asked as her giggles subsided.

I find eloquence to be charming. Felix responded absently as he joined his mother into the hotel. He had been in the hallways often enough in his childhood that he could wander off into his mind. Speaking with a nameless stranger who might end up being the love of his life. Languages are filled with such wondrous words, it’s a shame that they are rarely used.

Fun, you'll be great for literature homework. The voice popped in, before he heard a hum. I don't know what nickname to use, more come from my actual name.

What's the definition of your name? We can base it off of flowers. Felix brought up trying to be helpful. Flowers could be good nicknames. He hoped, he didn’t know her well enough to suggest anything else; and he knew the meaning of various flowers. Hopefully they could find something suitable.

Flowers? The voice asked surprised.

The language of flowers is fascinating. Felix defended. I've spent too many hours reading upon them. Poetry, movies, music, and festival flowers play a great symbolism. The victorians could hold entire conversations with the giving of flowers alone.

That's cute. The voice thought, it sounded amused by the ramble. Well my favorite flower is the Marigold, they mean luck. I could use all the luck I can get. So you call me that.

You can call me Basil, it means best wishes. Felix supplied after quick thinking. It's a pleasure to meet you Marigold.

Same Basil… oh I have to go, my teacher called my attention again. Marigold huffed in annoyance.

Till next time. Felix said listening to her giggle once again. Why did it sound so familiar to him? Could it be because they were so called soulmates? He didn't feel any reserves from the voice in his head. If any other would have giggled so much by what he said he would have been tempted to deliver them a most humiliating blow. He wasn't sure if he should be frightened by the fact that he was so calmed by the sound, or be oddly charmed.

Bye Basil. Marigold gave her farewell and he felt the echo of his head recede. Now his thoughts were contingent on his own ideals. Alone in his own mind.

"Mom." Felix spoke up looking around the suite until he found his mother organizing her luggage in her room.

"Yes?" Amelie asked stopping what she was going to give her son the attention he deserved.

"Her name is Marigold for now, and tell aunt Honoria her laugh is pretty." Felix reported seeing his mother smile.

"Pretty laugh huh? I didn't know my studious son was dipping his toes into comedy, making a girl laugh. You're more of a drama and romance type. WIshing to win her over with some comedy before you start your epic love story?" Amelie teased delighted when Felix's ears burned in red along with the pink wash on his cheeks. "I'll let Honoria know about your Marigold."

“Thank you.” Felix ground out as he tried to escape her room before his mother felt the need of teasing him more.

“Felix, remember tomorrow you begin your classes. You’re in the same school as your cousin, so you can leave with Chloe in the morning.” Amelie called out behind him so she missed Felix’s face of horror. It was a good thing, she would have teased him about it for weeks.

Bad luck strikes again against Felix. Truly did he piss off Lady Fortune in a past life to have dealt such a fate? With a deep sigh Felix was already subjecting himself to the fate of dealing with those brainless students in his cousin’s class. As well as being subjected to his cousin for extended periods of time. Lovely.

#ml fanfiction #felix graham de vanily #marinette dupain-cheng #canon felinette #canon felix #soulmates au #romantic soulmates share thoughts #platonic soulmates share a journal

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duhragonball · 6 years

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[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (75/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation. This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

Previous chapters conveniently available here.

[6 March 234 Before Age. Nat-Chezz II.]

When Zaperc led the Saiyans to Nat-Chezz II, their plan had been to defend the planet against any would-be invaders. The idea was to imitate what the Super Saiyan Luffa had achieved with her establishment of an interplanetary Federation. Instead of seeking out easy battles, they would stand their ground and try to cultivate a reputation as a force to be reckoned with. This would in turn attract even stronger invaders, giving the Saiyans a chance to become stronger themselves as they repelled them. At least, this was the theory.

In practice, Zaperc’s followers were virtually indistinguishable from the sort of invaders they pledged to drive off. Upon arrival, they declared martial law, shut down much of the planet’s communications, and helped themselves to whatever supplies and treasure they wished. The Chezzi people had endured worse occupations in the past, so they tolerated the situation for a time, but they still breathed a sigh of relief when Luffa discovered their plight and intervened.

In the weeks that followed, Luffa subjected these Saiyans to intense training, determined to mold the band into the sort of champions they had claimed to be. The Chezzi King had allowed them to keep the mansion they had appropriated, but all the treasure they had taken was returned, and the Saiyans spent most of their days drilling in the wilderness or conducting war games with the Chezzi military. When their work for the day was finished, they convened at their manor and feasted on whatever luckless animals they happened to find during their training exercises.

“That’s what I like about you, Jikama,” Lesseri said as she ripped hunks of flesh from a carcass on the table. “You may be half-Chezzi, but at least you eat like a Saiyan. I knew a mixed-blood on Siphone II. Guy had no appetite at all. Creepy.”

“Thanks... I think,” Jikama said between bites. “So, any word on when Luffa’s coming back?”

“Nothing new,” Vigurd said as she drank an entire pot of stew and wiped her mouth on her forearm. “What’s wrong, Jikama? You miss that gilded blowhard already?”

“I just enjoyed her cooking,” he said awkwardly. “Not that there’s anything wrong with this, but we’ve been roasting animals on a spit for a week now. I could go for some of that insect crumb of hers.”

“Insect crumb, my foot!” Lesseri scoffed. “Don’t listen to him, Vigurd. He just wants another pat on the head from Zattie.”

Jikama chuckled at this. Of all the Saiyans in Zaperc’s group, he had shown the most improvement in tracking Zatte through dense foliage. Luffa’s alien wife lacked Saiyan power, but she could make herself virtually undetectable, and she was armed with advanced weaponry and a talent for asymmetrical warfare. She had praised him a number of times in front of Luffa and the other Saiyans, which had earned him a lot of teasing from his comrades. Not wishing to antagonize any of them, he smiled and tried to take it in stride.

“If you asked me, it’d be just as well if she never came back,” muttered Brockle. He sat at the head of the table, nursing a flagon of ale while he devoured a plate of spare ribs.

“Please, Brockle,” Vigurd laughed. “We’ve all seen you leer at her when you think no one’s watching. You miss Zattie more than Jikama does.”

“Yeah,” Lesseri added. “Don’t take it personally, Brockle. You’re just not her type, if you know what I mean.”

The two women laughed, and Jikama tried to delicately suggest that maybe they shouldn’t make a habit of calling her “Zattie”, when Brockle slammed his fist on the table.

“I’m not talking about the damned alien,” he said. “I meant Luffa.”

“I wouldn’t let your father hear you talk that way,” Vigurd warned.

“I’ve learned all I need to know from the Super Saiyan,” Brockle insisted. “I’m getting stronger every day, and before long I’ll be powerful enough to surpass her.”

“No offense, kid,” Lesseri said, “but get real. We’ve all felt the ki Luffa puts off. You’re nowhere near her level.”

He stood up and raised his fists. “I’m more than a match for you, Lesseri!” he shouted.

She nodded and sipped her drink. “You’re right, but being stronger than me doesn’t change anything, does it?”

“I have the potential to beat her!” he insisted. “I know it!”

“Maybe so,” Vigurd said, “but until you do, you’ll have to put up with her crap like the rest of us. Unless she’s dumb enough to get killed in spaceflight. I wonder if someone could sneak an explosive on that ship of hers without her noticing...”

“Now what would that accomplish?” Lesseri asked.

“Oh, I’m just thinking out loud,” Vigurd chuckled. She finished her meal and patted her sizable belly with satisfaction. “People would pay a fortune to hire the mercenary who slew the Super Saiyan, wouldn’t they?”

“Not once the word gets around that she’s just a run-of-the-mill Saiyan like a hundred thousand others available for hire,” Lesseri noted. “All you’d prove is that you know how to set a time-bomb.”

“Wouldn’t someone else try to bomb your ship?” Jikama suggested. “Then they could cash in on being the one to kill the mercenary who killed the Super Saiyan.”

Lesseri pointed a table knife at Jikama. “See? He’s only half-Saiyan and he gets it.”

“I don’t know why my father put up with you fools,” Brockle grumbled.

“Because he knows he needs all the help he can get to keep his son from getting himself killed,” Lesseri said. “Maybe you were in line to serve in Rehval’s elite guard, but you fouled that gig up, and now you’ve got to scrape together a living like the rest of us merc trash. You don’t have to like us, Brockle. You don’t have to like Luffa either, or her blue-skinned devil girl, for that matter, but you still need us for the time being.”

He opened his mouth to respond, when suddenly all four of them gasped with shock and turned to look up at the sky. There was nothing to see, at least not with the naked eye, but the ki they had sensed was powerful enough to be sensed, even from outer space.

“Is that... Luffa?” Vigurd asked.

“It can’t be,” Brockle said. “It feels completely different. And there’s... two of them.”

“Jikama, contact the Chezzi military,” Lesseri said. “We’ll need telemetry on that ship.”

“Huh? Oh, right!” he said as he scrambled out of his seat. While he took off into the air, she turned to Brockle.

“Go find your father,” she said. “Looks like we finally have a fight on our hands.”

“I don’t take orders from you, woman!” he said indignantly.

“That’s right, you don’t,” she said. “We both take orders from your father, and I’d like to start taking some before whatever that is gets here, so hurry up and find him!”

He muttered obscenities under his breath as he got up from the table, promising himself that she would pay for her disrespect, but Lesseri didn’t care as long as he did as she asked.

She looked to Vigurd next. “Do me a favor and prep Zaperc’s ship for launch.”

“What?” Vigurd asked. “You want to run?”

“Right now I want to keep my options open,” Lesseri said. “Without Luffa to back us up, I don’t know if we can beat these guys, and I don’t know if Zaperc’s sensible enough to order a retreat. I don’t know about you, but I’d like an escape route handy.”

“You know, so would I, now that you mention it,” Vigurd said after a moment’s consideration.

“Yes, I thought you might,” Lesseri said after Vigurd flew off.

*******

Two hours later, Zaperc was with Hijik in the throneroom of the King of Nat-Chezz, accompanied by several high-ranking military commanders. They had been discussing plans to destroy the incoming vessel before it could deploy its forces, when suddenly an image of two women appeared in the center of the room.

Both of them had pale, almost transparent skin. The shorter of the two was almost completely concealed beneath a black cloak. Only her bare feet and lower shins were visible below the hem, and the hood of her cloak revealed only the portion of her face below her eyes. Her nose and mouth were contorted into a cruel sneer.

The taller woman was adorned in black leather up to her chest, which added emphasis to her large, muscular arms. An iron helmet concealed her eyes as well, though a dark, horizontal slot on the front presumably allowed her to see out of it. Lengths of wire hung from the back of the helmet, almost as if to serve as a crude substitute for hair. Her lips were stretched to reveal her clenched teeth, as though she were constantly on the verge of biting someone.

“Are they holograms?” the king asked.

“I think they’re some sort of ki constructs, Sire,” Zaperc said cautiously. “Hijik, can you sense them too?”

Hijik nodded, and curled his tail around his waist. Before he could give his own opinion on the images, the cloaked one addressed the room.

“Hail, King of Nat-Chezz. I am Ünderlyne, and this is Stryquethru. Henceforth, we shall be the new masters of your world.”

“Long have we coveted your scandium resources, King of the Chezzi,” Stryquethru growled through her teeth. “You will surrender your world to us, or we shall take it by force. Doubtless you have warriors who can already sense our power approaching your world. They will tell you that we cannot be defeated. Heed their warning and surrender to us!”

“Surrender, and you shall be shown... mercy...” promised Ünderlyne, though her tone lacked sincerity. “The tender mercies of Stryquethru and Ünderlyne... Oh how we beg you to submit.”

“Resist,” Stryquethru seethed, “and your people shall suffer terribly! Woe to the defiant! For there is no refuge from our wrath!”

“Woe!” wailed Ünderlyne.

“Woe!” added Stryquethru.

“Wooooooooeeeeee!” they howled in unison.

As their voices faded, so too did their images, and the message appeared to be concluded. The king looked to his advisors, and then to the two Saiyans, desperate for counsel.

“At current velocity, we expect them to reach the planet in two hours, Sire,” said one of the generals.

“My son Brockle may be able to destroy their ship before it reaches the atmosphere, Sire,” Zaperc said. “If not, I would recommend deploying our forces here...”

“Is this a joke?!” Hijik yelled.

Suddenly, everyone in the room fell silent, and all eyes were looking to him.

“It’s obviously a trick!” Hijik said. “Am I the only one who sees it?”

“Hijik, what are you talking about?” Zaperc demanded. “We don’t have time for--”

“That was Luffa, of course!” Hijik said. “Luffa and her alien ‘partner’ or whatever she calls it! They left the planet days ago, frustrated that we weren’t jumping through their hoops fast enough for them, so they dreamed up this phony invasion as some pathetic team-building exercise!”

Silence fell upon the room again. At last, the king spoke. “Zaperc, could he be right? Would the Super Saiyan do such a thing?”

Zaperc hesitated. He had studied Luffa’s career for over two years, only to find that the real Luffa was very different from what his sources had told him. She had been testing them for weeks now. Could this be another test? If it was, wouldn’t she have informed the king? Perhaps he was aware of her plan, and he was feigning ignorance to help Luffa gauge their reactions.

“I... I don’t know,” he finally said. “Perhaps we should wait and see.”

“Wait?! Wait for what?” one of the Chezzi generals demanded. “Neither of those women looked nothing like Luffa. The shorter one was at least six inches taller than her.”

“It was a ki projection,” Hijik said. “They could have made it look any size or shape they wanted!”

“And since when does Luffa have that ability?” the general asked sharply.

“Her woman has all sorts of energy manipulation powers,” Hijik said. “Working together, there’s no telling what they could do.”

“But why go to all this trouble?” the Chezzi king asked. “Why not simply arrange a war game maneuver?”

“Because it’s a team-building exercise,” Hijik said. The disgust in his voice made it sound like he was describing the most detestable atrocity he could imagine. “You don’t understand how women think, Your Majesty. They want to humiliate us, then force us to work together against a common foe, and then they’ll reveal their ruse at the last moment, to reinforce the idea that none of us can accomplish anything unless they allow it.”

“Wh-what?” the king asked.

Hijik sighed. “I can see I’ll have to go over the basics of involuntary celibacy with you. I’ll need something to write on so I can make a diagram...”

********

On a cozy island village off the coast of one of Nat-Chezz’s larger continents, Bodi stood in a library and watched patiently while a Chezzi woman looked through an almanac.

“Sorry this is taking so long,” she said as she ran her maroon-skinned fingers down a table printed on page 702. “You’d probably have more luck calling the Royal Astronomy Society. They have a computer program that calculates things like this.”

Bodi smirked as he rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Luck? Calculations?” he asked. “With the fate of this world on the line, there can be no half-measures. Take your time, and while you concentrate on finding the answer I need, I will drink in your beauty, and let it inspire my Saiyan power to unseen heights!”

The woman faltered for a moment, and clutched at her temples. Even the horns on her head seemed to droop slightly.

“Is something wrong?” Bodi asked. “Have you found it?”

“No, I just... felt a little ill for a moment,” she said. “Could you maybe save the cheesy lines for after the invasion?”

“Very well,” Bodi said as he dramatically removed his sunglasses. “I accept!”

He had been patrolling this part of the planet when he sensed the huge powers approaching from space. With Luffa and Zatte offworld, his standing orders were to report to Zaperc and the Chezzi military command, but he knew better. There would be only one way to halt this impending doom. Only one power that could bring Bodi and his comrade the victory they all craved. Bodi would seize that power, and with it, the triumph, and with that... maybe some grateful Chezzi women...

“Okay, I think I’ve got it,” she said.

“Good job!” he cheered, pointing at her with both hands. “The location of the full moon!”

“Well, that’s just it,” she said sheepishly. “The full moon won’t be in the sky for another week. It doesn’t matter where you go on the planet’s surface. It all depends on the moon’s position in relation to the sun.”

His jaw dropped.

“What I was thinking of was a solar eclipse,” she explained. “With those, it depends on where the observer is on the planet’s surface. At a certain latitude, the moon would obscure more of the sun’s disc, but that has nothing to do with lunar phases. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t move. A pathetic squeaking sound emanated from his throat, but nothing more.

“Are you sure you need this Giant Ape form to win?” she asked. “It just seems kind of unreliable to me. You get all this power from it, but it only works under the light of the full moon. And what if the invaders managed to cut off your tail?”

He nodded slightly.

“Well, is there anything else I can help you with?” she asked. “If not, I’ll uh... let you get back to strategizing. I feel like I ought to see my family before this ship arrives. So, uh, good luck out there.”

She left him standing there, dumbfounded. One by one, the other patrons left the building, until at last the librarian at the desk shut off the lights and locked the doors. Bodi didn’t move, except for a slight twitch as a single tear ran down his cheek.

*******

“Behold, mistress! The world of Nat-Chezz. And soon it shall be ours! The domain of Stryquethru and Ünderlyne!”

Stryquethru gazed at the image of the planet on the viewscreen, admiring whatever her helmet allowed her to perceive through the slot that obscured her eyes. A tear of blood ran down her cheek as she made a twisted smile.

“How peaceful it looks!” she exclaimed through clenched teeth. “Soon, very, soon my lady--my queen, we shall have all the scandium we could ever need. Scandium enough to sate the darkest of appetites!”

Their ship had only one deck, containing a single, nearly empty room. Nearly every surface was shiny and black, with heavy chains and manacles dangling from various positions on the wall. There were no physical controls. Ünderlyne simply waved her hands, seemingly clawing at the air with the long black nails on her fingers, and the ship responded instantly.

“But hold!” she said. “We are under attack!”

“The fools!” Stryquethru hissed. “Do those spineless worms reject our kind warning already?”

“Worry not, my pet,” Ünderlyne said in a spiteful tone. “The energy beam is a powerful one, rich in vital energy, but easily avoided. Yes, we need only slip our vessel beneath normal space, into the welcoming darkness of subspace, and wait for the danger to pass.”

As she spoke, she gestured with her hands to illustrate, and Stryquethru grunted with malicious approval. Then she tilted back her head and growled.

“Do I sense... Saiyan power in that attack?” she asked.

Ünderlyne paused and considered the question carefully. “Yessssss,” she said with a gleeful cackle. “And added bonus for our conquest!”

“I would bathe in their blood!” Stryquethru insisted. “The one who fired that insolent shot! Yes, my pet, I will not rest until shreds of his viscera are lodged between my teeth!”

“Let us not be hasty,” Ünderlyne said with an evil smile. “The Saiyans make fine stock for breeding, as well as for soup. Imagine an entire offshoot of their race, toiling away to refine scandium for our dark bidding.”

Stryquethru screamed for thirty seconds straight. “Delightful,” she added. “I cannot bear to wait any longer! How long until we arrive?!”

“Soon!” Ünderlyne cried.

*******

“Now!” Ünderlyne cried as they stepped out of the hatch of their ship and onto the courtyard of the Chezzi royal palace.

“Where is the king!?” Stryquethru screeched. “He must surrender his world to us immediately!”

“Bring us the king!” Ünderlyne shrieked. “Lest we hunt him down and devour his eyes!”

But the courtyard was empty, save for the two invaders and their black, disc-shaped vessel. Suddenly, the vessel was engulfed in an explosion.

“How dare!” Ünderlyne rasped.

“My chains!” Stryquethru howled. “All of my favorite chains were on board!”

“Take heart, mistress,” Ünderlyne said. “We shall soon forge new chains, of scandium alloy!”

“Seems your ship is much easier to hit when it’s standing still,” shouted Brockle as he flew over the courtyard. He alighted just in front of the invaders and the burning hulk that was once their ship. “Now I only need to destroy the two of you.”

“You were the one!” Stryquethru moaned. “The one who fired upon us before! Saiyan! I would have your innards!”

Brockle clenched his fists and raised his power level to its maximum. “Come and take them if you can!” he growled. “I’m going to make an example of the two of you. When I’m through, no one will dare come near this planet again!”

“Then let us do battle, fool!” Stryquethru shouted. “Let the seas run red with our blood! Unleash your power Saiyan. Bring forth your fury!”

“Wait, stop! We surrender!”

Brockle turned to see his father running out from one of the palace doors. He ran past Brockle and dropped to his knees before the dark women.

“Father, what are you doing?” Brockle asked.

“Spare my son, please,” Zaperc asked as he clasped his hands together in supplication. “He is only a boy.”

“Father, I am not a boy, I am seventeen years old!” Brockle protested.

“How touching,” Ünderlyne cooed. “The son seeks war, while the father begs for peace. Do you truly know what you ask, filthy Saiyan?”

“We’re no match for you,” Zaperc said. “We have no choice but to yield.”

“Then prove your sincerity, knave!” Stryquethru commanded. “Cut off your tail and eat it here in front of us!”

“That is disgusting, Stryquethru!” Ünderlyne muttered.

“It is the only way they will learn, my mistress,” Stryquethru said quietly.

“Father, you can’t be serious!” Brockle said. “I’m strong enough to defeat these wretches. Let me--”

“Son, your power doesn’t even compare!” Zaperc snapped. “Look past your pride and sense what stands before you! I’m not sure if even Luffa could stand against these monsters.”

Zaperc’s words were like a heavy blow to his gut. In that instant, all the confidence simply drained out of Brockle. “F-father--!” was all he could bring himself to say.

“I’ll do as you ask,” Zaperc said, glancing down at the end of his furry tail. “If you agree to let me and my son leave this planet peacefully.”

“No!”

The four of them turned, and found Hijik floating over the courtyard, looking down upon them. There was a large sphere of energy in his right hand, and he was brandishing it with look of desperation on his face.

“Hijik, what in blazes are you doing?” Zaperc asked.

“I’m rescuing your dignity from these she-beasts!” he shouted back. “We can’t defeat them, but we do have enough power to destroy the planet, or at least render it uninhabitable!”

“Are you mad, Saiyan?!” Stryquethru barked. “Put that energy away and come down here! Or do you want to kill yourself along with the rest of us?!”

“I’m not bluffing!” Hijik said. “If we can’t have this planet, neither will you! I suggest you get back in your ship and leave. This world isn’t safe for your kind!”

“They can’t leave, Hijik!” Zaperc groaned. “Brockle destroyed their ship!”

This was apparently news to Hijik, or he may have seen it happen, and simply failed to consider the ramifications. “He... did?!” Hijik stammered. “But... but...”

“We cannot leave!” Stryquethru gloated. “Nor would we wish to do so. Tell me, little man, would you hold that ball of death over us forever?!”

“No, wait!” Hijik said, thinking as fast as he could. “You could take our ship.”

“In the first place, Hijik,” Zaperc said, “it’s not ‘our ship’, it’s my ship. And second--”

As he spoke, they all sensed another Saiyan life energy moving overhead. It was Vigurd, piloting the very ship they were just discussing.

“What is she doing?” Zaperc asked.

“That coward!” Brockle fumed. “She’s running away! Leaving us behind!”

“Well, someone get to a transmitter and tell her to turn around!” Hijik yelled. “She doesn’t need to run away now! She can bring the ship down and hand it off to these two. Hell, she can leave with them for all I care. Just so long as they--”

Suddenly, Zaperc’s ship exploded into a fireball, and began a steep descent towards the horizon.

“Vigurd?!” Zaperc cried. He couldn’t sense her energy now. It was possible that a Saiyan of her power level might have survived the explosion, but if Zaperc couldn’t sense her ki, then that meant Vigurd wasn’t using it to protect herself, or to break her fall to the surface. If she wasn’t dead already, she soon would be.

Hijik wasted no time dreaming up another alternative. “There’s plenty of other starships on this planet,” he said.

“Enough!” Stryquethru shouted. “You’ve put up a nice front, little Saiyan, but your game is over now! Come down here, and if Ünderlyne deems you suitable, we may make use of you for our breeding experiments.”

“Breeding?” Hijik said. “You mean, me and you?”

Ünderlyne simply cackled and waved her hands with abandon.

“And perhaps I as well, dog,” Stryquethru added, “assuming there is anything left of you once dear Ünderlyne is through.”

Hijik quickly dissipated the energy ball in his hand and descended beside Zaperc. “When do we start?” he asked hopefully.

“Hijik, are you mad?” Zaperc asked. “A moment ago these two demanded that I eat my own tail!”

“What’s your point?” he asked.

“Not so fast, ladies!” called a voice in the distance.

“Oh, what now?” Hijik groaned.

The dark women were equally annoyed. The looked and found a figure standing atop one of the stone pillars in the courtyard, with his arms crossed and his back turned toward them. With a flourish, he backflipped off the pillar, twisting and flipping as he moved through the air, until at last his feet touched the ground and he struck a dramatic pose.

“Bodi,” Zaperc said. “I’m asking you to please stay out of this.”

“I’ve come to issue a challenge!” Bodi said. “We can’t defeat you ladies now, but in a week, when the moon is full, my comrades and I will be ready to fight you with all we’ve got.”

“Why should we do such a thing?!” Stryquethru asked.

“Your comrades are already surrendering to us!” Ünderlyne hissed. “What possible reason would we have for delaying our triumph?”

He rubbed his chin, then adjusted his sunglasses. “I see,” he said as he closed his eyes and smiled. “It seems I failed to consider that. Very well. In that case, all that I have left is...”

There was a long pause, and for a moment, Zaperc dared to wonder if Bodi actually had a way out of this situation.

“... No plans!” Bodi declared.

Zaperc shook his head mournfully and looked down at his tail once again.

*******

[7 March 234 Before Age. Nat-Chezz II.]

As it turned out, Zaperc got to keep his tail, at least for the time being. As sadistic as the invaders were, they seemed more interested in savoring their victory than in carrying out their threats. Thus, the first ever “Surrender Banquet” was held in the palace’s main hall. The decorations made the occasion resemble the interior design of Stryquethru and Ünderlyne’s ship. The streamers were made of black paper, the bouqets of flowers were dyed to as dark a hue as possible, and pieces of rusted scrap metal were laid upon each table like centerpieces. At the front of the room was a stage, where the new rulers of Nat-Chezz sat upon their “throne”, which was actually just a black leather sofa they had stabbed with assorted swords and knives. Hijik and Bodi stood on either side of them, each wearing heavy manacles on their necks and wrists that were more symbolic than functional.

“When do we start the breeding program?” Hijik asked Ünderlyne .

“At a time and place of our choosing, mortal fool!” Ünderlyne insisted. “If you do not stop asking, I shall carve out your tongue!”

“Oh, let him babble, my lady,” Stryquethru said. “I enjoy hearing the Saiyan whimper like an animal begging for table scraps.”

There was a loud metallic crack, and Stryquethru turned to scold Bodi. “Worthless wretch! I told you to stop fidgeting with those chains! Now you’ve broken them!”

Bodi had been trying to scratch his back, which had strained the metal to its breaking point. He grinned and adjusted his sunglasses. “Apologies, ladies,” he said as smoothly as he could. “I suppose that I was so overwhelmed by your animal magnetism that I forgot my own strength. Best surrender ever!”

At one of the tables, Zaperc was apologizing profusely to the Chezzi king.

“We still have a chance,” he said in a low voice. “Lesseri and Jikama are unaccounted for. One of them might find a way to summon help and--”

“What good will that do?” the king whispered. “These women are too powerful, Zaperc. They could defeat an army of Saiyans, and I doubt your comrades can find us that much help.”

“There is the full moon,” Zaperc suggested. “Bodi may have had the right idea after all. If we bide our time, we might--”

The king was horrified at this suggestion. “Don’t you think they’ve already anticipated that tactic?” he asked. “In another week, they’ll either chop off your tails or destroy our moon.”

Zaperc sighed as he realized the king was right. It wasn’t supposed to have been like this. His son Brockle should have unlocked his hidden potential and become powerful enough to tackle any challenge, including these invaders. Instead, Stryquethru and Ünderlyne had taken the planet without a struggle, and Brockle now sulked in a far corner of the hall, his spirit completely broken.

"Silence!" Stryquethru screamed. "We would have music! We would see merriment! Dance, Chezzi insects! Dance for your dark queens!"

With some reluctance, most of the ’guests’ rose from their chairs and began to dance in an open area of the hall. As commanded by their new rulers, they all wore black gowns and formal wear mottled with ashes.

"Shall we?" the king said, offering his hand to Zaperc.

Zaperc was irritated by the situation, but he supposed every moment he spent playing along was another moment he got to keep his tail attached to his body. Begrudgingly, he took the king’s hand and led him through a rudimentary waltz.

"You’ve done this before," the king said with some amazement. "I didn’t think Saiyans knew how to dance."

"It was in the book," Zaperc explained ruefully.

"The book? You mean The Luffa Way?" the king asked.

"There’s a section about opening oneself to new experiences. It goes on to describe a time when Luffa supposedly taught herself to waltz in order to defeat a giant sea serpent on Planet Zeezil."

"And you resolved to learn the same steps," the king said.

Zaperc nodded. "All of it was a waste of time. The real Luffa told me the book was a pack of lies. She had never been to the Zeezil system. Her wife--who isn’t even mentioned in the book-- told me that Luffa doesn’t know how to dance."

"How gauche," the king said. "I wonder what they did at their wedding reception..."

"Luffa levitated herself an inch off the ground and let Zatte slide her across the floor like a shuffleboard disc. At least, that was what Zatte told me. She may have been joking. It’s hard for me to tell."

"That sounds rather fun, actually," the king said. "Would you care to try it?"

Zaperc frowned. "The point is that I’ve been wasting my time. I devoted years to following in Luffa’s footsteps, only to find that her feet weren’t even touching the ground! All the rumors and tall tales and false accounts I’ve studied--! All it’s won me is a life of bondage. It would all be worth it if this somehow led to a better life for my son, but look at him over there. I’ve only doomed him to the same fate."

The King glanced back at Brockle, who was still sulking in his chair. A Chezzi maiden asked him to dance, but he wouldn’t even acknowledge her presence.

"Don’t give up hope, Noble Saiyan," the king said. "My people have endured numerous conquests and occupations in our history. This too shall pass."

"How can you say that at a time like this?!" Zaperc asked. "We can’t defeat these monsters! Not even Luffa could--!"

Suddenly, there came a loud noise from the back of the hall. There was a massive double door at the entrance, made of particularly expensive and sturdy breed of Chezzi timber, and decorated with bismuth ink. These now lay on the floor, the wood splintered and cracked where they had been shorn from their hinges.

"Eh? Who dares!" Stryquethru screeched.

The newcomer stormed into the hall, walking directly toward the invaders without acknowledging the Saiyans or Chezzi. When she was standing directly in front of Stryquethru and Ünderlyne’s sofa, she extended her hand and curled in her fingers, beckoning them to come closer.

"Let’s step outside," Luffa said.

NEXT: Post Mortem

#dragon ball #fanfiction #lssjluffafic #super saiyan #luffa #brockle #zaperc #bodi #hijik #vigurd #jikama #lesseri #stryquethru #ünderlyne #nat-chezz ii #so funny story #i had this dumb gag all set up #and guess what html formatting tumblr doesn't support?#so it was either this or change her name to haeperlinque and that ain't happening

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lopithecusfanfiction · 7 years

Text

A Life So Changed: Chapter Thirty-Seven

Author: Lopithecus Pairing: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3941 Alternate: AO3, fanfiction.net Author's Note: N/A

Chapter Thirty-Seven:

Bruce takes a deep breath, standing by Dick’s door. He swallows thickly, raising his hand to knock. Clark had basically demanded that Bruce go and talk to the beta, claiming that he wanted Bruce and Dick to talk it out before the alpha’s parents got in from the airport. Clark had also begged him to be there when he did talk to the beta but Bruce had refused, ushering Clark out of the Manor to meet his parents, Kara, and Barbara at the airport. Now Bruce is at Dick’s door, trying to conjure up the courage to knock.

With another deep breath, he lands his knuckles on the wooden door three times. He waits but no reply comes. He knocks again and waits some more but still, there is no reply. Bruce opens the door slowly, peering inside. “Dick?”

The room is dark with the shades pulled closed so no sunlight can make it through. The bed is made and the pillows are neatly placed atop the covers. Alfred would be proud. Bruce steps into the room more and looks around. “Dick?” The closet doors are open and so he heads to that first. Half the clothes are gone and a sinking feeling forms in Bruce’s chest. He goes to the dresser next, opening every single drawer to see nothing in them. Even the side table, when Bruce checks, is empty. Hurt emanates in Bruce’s heart and he feels the ice coldness of abandonment.

With his head hung, he makes his way back to the kitchen where the family is gathered. Alfred is currently baking an apple pie even though Clark had reassured the man that Martha was going to come with one as well. Alfred would never admit it, but Bruce knows the beta has a type of fun rivalry going on between them. Jason, Tim, and Damian are sat around the table. Damian is tinkering with something that looks suspiciously like a homemade baby toy, while Jason and Tim talk idly. Bruce leans on the doorframe, suddenly short of breath. The breaking of the bond between him and Dick is getting worse, but he didn’t think difficulty breathing was a sign of it. At least, it wasn’t when Jason had died. Maybe it’s different when the bond is broken because of death.

“Is Clark back yet?” He asks the group and they all fall silent, looking at him.

“No, not yet,” Jason says, bringing a cup of coffee up to his lips and sipping it.

“Are you okay?” Tim asks.

Bruce nods and runs a hand through his hair. “I’m fine. Do you know where Dick went?”

“He’s not in his room?” Tim questions.

“He was this morning, Sir.” Alfred sets the steaming pie on the counter. “Master Dick never mentioned going out.”

“His clothes are gone.” Bruce takes a deep shaky breath.

Jason gets up immediately from his seat, taking one step towards him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I just want Clark.” The words come out more like a whine. Bruce hadn’t meant for it to sound like that. Though Bruce and Clark don’t share a mate bond, they do share one in the sense that Clark is the sire to his baby. That means he has a slightly greater pull towards the alpha.

The boys exchange confused glances. “I’m sure he will be back soon,” Tim reassures.

“Did Grayson leave, Father?” Damian asks, finally looking up from whatever he was working on.

“I don’t know.” He pushes off the doorframe and sits down at the table, next to Damian, one hand on his stomach. “I just… can someone please call Clark?”

“Okay.” Tim immediately get out his cellphone. “Let me see if I can get a hold of him.” The phone goes to the omega’s ear and after a few seconds of silence, he starts speaking again. “Hey Clark, it’s Tim. No everything is… fine, sort of. Bruce just wants to talk to you.”

The omega hands the phone over and Bruce takes it gratefully, putting the device up to his ear. “Clark?”

“Bruce? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”

Bruce sighs at hearing the voice of his baby’s sire and soon to be mate. “The baby is fine. I’m fine.” There’s talking in the background and Bruce hears Clark speak away from the phone. Bruce assumes the alpha is already with Martha and Jonathan and possibly Kara and Barbara. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“Can you listen to where Dick is?”

He can hear the confusion Clark is feeling even without the alpha saying anything. “Okay, give me a moment.” There’s the sound of shuffling and muffled background noise of a busy airport. “It sounds like… hang on.” More shuffling and then the sound of wind, as if Clark is flying. “Okay, it sounded like Dick was on the highway to Blüdhaven so I checked. That’s exactly where he is going.” The last part of Clark’s sentence is growled as Bruce’s stomach drops into the floor. “Did you even get a chance to talk to him?”

“No.”

“That son of a-”

“Clark stop, please.”

“He’s running away from the problem, Bruce.”

“He’s only doing what was given to him as an example.”

There’s silence on the other end now. Clark can’t argue the point, Bruce knows this. Bruce has done nothing but run away from his problems. “Dick is usually better than that,” Clark mumbles and Bruce doesn’t comment on it. “This isn’t like him.”

“No, it’s not, but I just think he’s scared. I’m sure he-” Bruce glances at the people around the room who are watching him intently. He clears his throat. “I’m sure he can feel our bond has broken.”

Questioning looks are shot his way as Clark answers. “I know but that’s no excuse. Do you want me to retrieve him?”

“No, let him be for now. I’ll have you get him tonight. You need to focus on getting the guests here.” He hears more whipping wind and then the background noise of the airport comes back. Clark has landed and gone back to the building. He hears Clark grumble something to his parents but otherwise says nothing to Bruce. “Clark?” Clark hums. “I…”

More brief silence. Then “I love you too, Bruce.” The corners of Bruce’s mouth pull up. “I’ll see you when I get back.” They both hang up the phone.

The boys are still eyeing him. “Feeling better?” Tim asks as Bruce hands the phone back.

He’s still feeling a bit out of breath but he is definitely feeling more relaxed. “Yes, thank you Tim.”

“What do you mean your bond broke with Dick?” Jason sit back down next to Tim. “Did that happen after the Kryptonite incident?”

“Kryptonite incident?” Tim and Damian ask at the same time. Alfred gives him a quizzical eyebrow raise.

Jason looks around the table. “I take it you didn’t tell them.”

“No Jason, I had not.” Bruce rubs his forehead in frustration. “Dick used Kryptonite on Clark and I was in the room. It hurt both me and Clark.”

“What?” Tim sounds alarmed. “Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”

“I’m fine. The baby is fine.” He refrains from mentioning anything about almost losing the baby. That’s a shit storm he really doesn’t feel like dealing with. He has enough to handle with Clark gunning after the beta. “It’s just, since Dick moved to Blüdhaven our bond has been weak. Recently, however, it’s… broken.”

“Doesn’t that hurt Father?”

“Very.” He leaves it at that. “I was going to talk to him today but he’s apparently on his way to Blüdhaven.”

“That fucking coward,” Jason growls, hands clenching tight.

Bruce rubs at his forehead more. “It’s not his fault. He has a lot on his plate right now between accidently hurting me and Wally being pregnant-”

“Wally’s what?” Tim shouts.

At the same time, Jason says, “Stop defending him.” He looks confused. “Wait, I’m with Tim. What do you mean Wally is pregnant?”

Tim lifts his hands and waves them about. “Who’s the sire?”

“You can’t piece it together Todd? Drake?” Tim shakes his head in a confused manner. “The baby is obviously Grayson’s.”

“But Dick is with Kori.” The table falls silent and Bruce realizes how far out of the loop Tim and even Jason has been. After all, as far Bruce understands it, Jason doesn’t actually know why Dick had to defend himself with Kryptonite from Clark.

Tim’s shocked eyes dart to Bruce. “Is that true?” Then, “Wait, is that why he punched you that one time?”

“Is that the same time I learned about him punching you?” Jason asks.

Bruce shakes his head. “No, he punched me twice. Tim is talking about the first time while you learned about the second time.”

“He’s punched you twice?” Jason growls. “Did the first one put the baby in danger too?”

“Baby in danger?” Tim starts. “What do you mean?”

Jason turns to the omega, explaining. “The punch I’m talking about almost knocked Bruce down the stairs into the cave.”

“Oh my God. Are you okay?”

Bruce sighs. “It was a week ago. I’m fine.”

Tim frowns, looking down at his coffee. “What has gotten into him lately? He’s not acting like himself.”

Jason scoffs, taking another sip of his coffee. “Probably because he has a baby to think about.” Bruce doesn’t tell them Wally might not keep it. It’s not his place to tell. “Not to mention the whole cheating thing.”

“Has Clark tried to talk to him? I mean, he’s kind of in the same boat as him.”

“No,” Bruce says sternly. “Clark is not allowed to talk to Dick, you understand? He’s not even allowed to be in the same room as him.” All three give him a questioning look and Alfred sets pancakes down in front of them with maple syrup along with chocolate syrup for Bruce. “The last thing I need is for Clark to get all alpha on him because Dick put his baby in danger.”

“Are you kidding? I’m going to get all alpha on him.”

“Then you’re banned from talking to him too.” Jason rolls his eyes. “Just let me handle it, please. I’m going to have Clark get him tonight, hopefully with Clark not going all alpha on him, and I’ll talk to him then.”

The room descends into silence once more. It lasts for at least minute as everyone stares down at their pancakes solemnly. Then Tim asks, hesitantly, “How’s Wally?”

Bruce shrugs. “I haven’t talked to him recently.” He doesn’t know whether Dick has been in contact with the speedster. He doesn’t know if Dick has tried to convince him to keep the baby. He doesn’t even know if Wally has already gone through with the abortion. Bruce has been too busy with his own problems to find the time to call the young omega and find out. He reminds himself to do so later.

“Is he keeping it?” Damian asks, finally speaking up after staying quiet for so long.

“I don’t know.” They’re all quiet again and Bruce suddenly feels tired. He looks down at his plate and wants to throw up. He doesn’t have a very great appetite today.

“Can you fix it?” Bruce looks up, startled by Tim’s question. The omega doesn’t meet his eyes. “Your bond with Dick. Can you fix it?”

“I can try.” He places a hand on his stomach, rubbing. “It was already fragile to begin with.”

Jason’s lips thin and he looks contemplative. “You fixed ours.” Bruce looks at the alpha, feeling warmth and love filling his chest. “If we could fix ours, it should be no problem to fix yours and Dick’s.”

“Thanks,” Bruce says and Jason shrugs.

“I can’t believe he could do that to Kori,” Jason mumbles.

Tim nods then adds, “And Wally.”

“It’s not always that simple.” Bruce stares at his plate and uneaten pancake instead of meeting anyone’s eyes. He’s grateful when Alfred clears his throat. Bruce hadn’t even noticed that he left room.

“Sir, the guests have arrived. They are waiting in the lounge.”

Bruce stands with a deep calming breath. “Thank you, Alfred.” His breathing has gotten better but now he is exhausted and just wants to crawl back into bed to sleep.

He and the boys follow Alfred out of the kitchen and to the lounge where Clark, Martha, Jonathan, Kara, and Barbara wait. As soon as he steps into the room and everyone sees his tiny baby bump, Kara squeals and Barbara awes. Clark’s face is the color of a tomato and Kara flies up to him, bending over to be eye level with his stomach. “Can I touch?”

Bruce gives Clark questioning look, ignoring Jason and Tim’s giggles and Damian’s tsk. The alpha shrugs his shoulders. “Uh, sure.”

Kara squeals again and places a gentle hand on his growing belly. “Oh, Barbara come feel.”

“Does the baby kick yet?” Barbara asks as she approaches, placing a hand next to Kara.

“No.”

Barbara frowns. “Is she supposed to start doing that in the fifth month?”

“Later on.” Bruce rubs his belly once Kara takes her hands off of her.

“Oh,” Kara shrieks. “Congratulations you two!”

Clark walks up to Bruce and gives the two women a small smile. He addresses everyone. “Uh, guys, do you think you could let Bruce and I talk to my parents for a little while?” Everyone nods and Alfred ushers all of them out of the room. It leaves the four of them alone with Martha and Jonathan looking at Bruce as if they aren’t sure what to say. “Ma. Pa. Um, I know this awkward but-”

“Clark,” Jonathan starts and Martha’s eyes dart away. “We are honestly a bit confused ‘bout this whole situation.”

“I explained it to you already.”

“We know sweetheart.” Martha looks at her son, full of love and compassion. “But one minute yer mated to Lois and then the next yer mated to Bruce Wayne with a baby on the way.”

“We’re not mates,” Bruce blurts and regrets it immediately. He looks to Clark because when it comes to parents, he doesn’t know how to deal with them.

Clark squirms. “Like I told you already, Bruce and I are just friends right now. We’re taking it slow.”

“Which we don’t really understand either Son.” Jonathan sighs. “How can you not be mated by someone who is havin’ yer baby?”

Clark rubs at his forehead, looking frustrated and as if he wants to crawl out of his own skin. “Please don’t make me explain it all to you again.”

“Clark-”

“Don’t!” Jonathan and Martha’s eyes grow wide in surprise at their son’s outburst. “You already know it all.”

“We know ya cheated on Lois with Bruce,” Jonathan begins and Bruce feels like he is going to be sick. “And got him pregnant.”

“I don’t understand Clark,” Martha says. “I thought you were trying to have a baby with Lois.”

“Clark,” Bruce whispers, feeling his stomach do summersaults. The room has gotten unbelievably hot and his starting to feel a bit lightheaded.

“I was. But… I didn’t cheat on Lois because Bruce could give me a baby.”

“Then why Son?”

Bruce keeps his eyes carefully trained on the floor. He’s has started to shake. “I was in heat.” He says it low and is almost afraid the Kents don’t hear him but both pairs of eyes move to him. “Clark was around when it happened.” He risks a look up at them and wishes he hadn’t when the room starts spinning.

“That doesn’t matter anyway,” Clark says. “I love Lois, I do, but… I’ve realized now that I love Bruce more. I always have.”

“How can you know that Clark?” Martha takes a step towards them.

He reaches out and grabs a hold of Clark’s bicep to keep him steady on his feet. The room is still spinning and Bruce is going to throw up. “Clark.”

“What if it was just the heat?” Jonathan asks his son.

Before Clark can answer Bruce turns to the alpha, gripping his bicep harder. “Clark,” he says urgently.

Clark finally looks at him. “Bruce? What’s wrong?”

“I’m going to be sick.” There’s a split second in which Clark’s eyes go wide before Bruce is suddenly in a bathroom. The super speed makes the queasy feeling in his stomach worse. Bruce bends over the toilet and empties his stomach of acid.

Clark rubs his back. “Are you okay?” Bruce shakes his head as another wave of hits him and heaves into the toilet. “This is starting to become a much too familiar.”

“Get used to it.” Bruce swallows, his throat burning. “I still have four and half more months.” He closes his eyes and enjoys Clark’s hand on him. He waits a few seconds before he deems it safe enough to sit up. A glass of water is shoved in his face by a sympathetic Kryptonian. Bruce takes it, swishes, then spits in the sink. He then gulps down the rest of the water, the liquid helping some with his throat. He sighs, closing his eyes. “Why are your parents giving us the third degree? I thought you explained it all to them.”

“I did.” Clark is watching him closely. “I guess… some things weren’t clear enough. I’m sorry they brought up Lois.”

Bruce opens his eyes and looks at Clark. “It was bound to happen.”

The alpha looks concerned. “Are you going to be okay?” Bruce nods. “Do you want to go back out?” Bruce shakes his head. “Okay.” Clark cups one of his cheeks. “I’ll talk to my parents myself.” With a smile, he leaves.

Bruce exits the bathroom and starts walking the halls aimlessly. He relishes in the peace and quiet of being alone. He stops at painting that are hung up on walls, paintings he hasn’t admired in years. Even the calmness of being alone doesn’t stop the headache from forming.

Bruce doesn’t feel good today. Blames it on his broken bond with Dick. It hurts. In his chest, whenever he thinks about the beta. Whenever he thinks about his bond with him and how it’s no longer there. He wants his son back and he wants to fix this mess. But he doesn’t know how. Clark is pissed at the beta and so is Jason. Tim is confused and Bruce doesn’t even know what Damian is feeling right now. He feels like his whole family is a mess right now and that it is falling apart. It’s painful to think about and he wonders how he is supposed to raise a daughter in it? How is he not going to cause her pain and heartbreak like he’s caused all his other children? How is he going to keep the bond he shares with her strong?

“Hey,” Bruce turns and sees Clark approaching him. “I’ve been looking for you. Everyone is wondering where you are. You’ve gone for a while.” Bruce looks him up and down. “Are you okay?” For once, Bruce feels like being honest. He shakes his head negatively. “Dick?” He nods and Clark sighs in sympathy. “I’m sorry Bruce.” Bruce walks past Clark and the alpha follows. “Do you want to be alone right now?” Bruce thinks about it and decides that being alone feels lonely right now. So, he shakes his head again and Clark doesn’t leave. After a few seconds of walking in silence, Clark begins speaking. “I think I’ve finally managed to get my parents to understand. I basically just explained the whole thing… again. I went over how why we slept with each other and you getting pregnant, about me trying to stay with Lois but it wasn’t working out, about you and Oliver, and then finally about me realizing my feelings for you. It took a lot of explaining.” Clark eyes him from the corners of his eyes. “But um, yeah, I think they get now. It’s… going to take them a little while to accept it, though, I think.” Bruce nods in understanding. “They are excited about a granddaughter Bruce, even if they don’t seem like it right now. I promise.” Again, Bruce nods and he can see Clark’s shoulders droop in defeat from his peripheral vision.

Bruce stops walking and turns to Clark. “Clark?” Clark looks at him, questioningly. “Why do you put up with me?”

“Is that even a real question?”

Bruce rolls his eyes. “Don’t be stupid.”

Clark chuckles but reaches up to tuck some hair behind Bruce’s ear. “I don’t know. You’re my best friend and I care about you. I love you.”

“But why? Why do you love me?” Bruce shrugs. “I push everyone I care about away. I make them hate me.”

“Is this about Dick?” Bruce looks away, avoiding eye contact. “Bruce, what’s going on with Dick is not your fault. All of it is on him. What he did to you and Wally and Kori, all of it. He’s the one at fault here. Not you, not Wally, and certainly not Kori. He’s the one who has to take responsibility for it.”

Tears start forming in Bruce’s eyes and he wishes he wasn’t so emotional from hormones. “Our bond broke Clark.” A tear slips down his cheek and Clark automatically reaches up to wipe it away. “And it hurts. It hurts Clark.” His shoulders start shaking with the effort of crying. “And I’m afraid that I’m going to going to lose my other bonds and that I’m going to lose the one with our daughter.”

“That’s not going to happen, Bruce, I promise. You’ll see.” Clark wipes more tears away. “You’re going to talk to Dick tonight and you two will fix everything. You both will start to rebuild that bond you had. You did with Jason.”

“That took years and I can’t do it again Clark. I don’t want to lose another one of my children.”

Clark cups his face. “Hey, hey, deep breaths.”

“And your parents don’t like me and-and I don’t feel good today.”

“Why don’t you feel good?” Clark asks gently.

“I just don’t. I have a headache and I’m nauseas and I-I can’t breathe.” Clark’s eyebrows furrow. “I’m pretty sure it’s because of the bond breaking.” Bruce sniffles. “It’s not a good time for your parents to be here, judging me, and for Kara’s hyperactivity and Barbara’s questions.” He rubs at his forehead. “I just don’t want to do this today.”

Clark is watching him, probably scanning him, and looking concerned. “You don’t have to,” he finally says. “Hey, listen, you don’t have to do this today, okay? You just go to your room and let me handle everything. My parents, Kara, and Barbara are staying for the week so you have plenty of time to talk to them.” He rubs Bruce’s cheek. “Go relax, try to feel better, maybe take a nap, and then we’ll fix this situation with Dick tonight. Okay?” Bruce swallows, wipes his tears away, and nods. Clark smiles down at him. “Do you want me to walk you to your room?” Bruce shakes his head. “Okay. I’ll come check on you later.” With one last pet to Bruce’s cheek, Clark lets him go and starts walking away.

Bruce stops him. “Clark?” Clark turns to face him. “I won’t lose you, will I?”

Clark gives him a sympathetic smile. “Never.” He then turns and leaves, leaving Bruce alone.

With a deep breath, Bruce slowly makes his way back to his bedroom. Once there, he lies down in his bed and tries to desperately not think about Dick.

A/N: Thanks for reading!

#DC Comics #SuperBat #Superman #Batman #Clark Kent #Kal El #Bruce Wayne #A Life So Changed #My Fanfiction #sfw

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