Chapter Text
The Cold ship’s engines roar overhead, shaking the courtyard stones. Rivers clings to Vegeta’s arm, tarble presses close on her other side, and Raditz stands stiffly beside them, trying to look braver than he feels. Bootsteps echo from the palace entrance. Heavy. Purposeful. Unmistakably royal.
King Vegeta strides into the courtyard, cape snapping behind him like a banner caught in a storm. The royal council follows in a tight formation, their armor gleaming under the dimming sky. Bardock is among them, walking with a soldier’s stride, eyes already scanning the children. King Vegeta’s gaze locks onto his sons and daughter immediately. His tail flicks once — sharp, commanding.
“Tarble. Vegeta. Rivers. Come here.” Vegeta straightens instinctively, shoulders snapping back. He places a steadying hand on Rivers’ back and nudges her forward. Tarble moves too, steps small but quick, tail curled tightly around his leg. Rivers hesitates, eyes still fixed on the descending ship. King Vegeta steps closer, lowering a hand toward her — not soft, but firm, grounding.
Rivers. Now.” She darts forward, grabbing the edge of his cape with both hands, hiding half behind him. His tail shifts slightly, creating a protective arc around her small form.
Bardock steps out from the council line, planting a hand on his hip as he looks toward Raditz.
“Raditz. Over here.”
Raditz stiffens, then jogs toward his father, boots scraping against the stone. Bardock reaches out and grips his shoulder, pulling him close with a firm, steadying squeeze.
King Vegeta positions himself between the children and the landing zone, cape billowing around them like a shield. Vegeta stands just behind his father’s right side, jaw tight, eyes locked on the ship. Tarble hovers near Vegeta’s elbow, tail twitching nervously. Rivers peeks out from behind King Vegeta’s cape, clutching the fabric with both hands.
The royal council forms a protective semicircle around the king and the children. Bardock mirrors the formation on the opposite side, Raditz tucked close beside him.
The Cold ship descends lower, engines screaming, wind whipping their hair and tails.
King Vegeta’s voice drops to a low, controlled rumble.
“Stay behind me. All of you.” Vegeta nods once, sharp and disciplined. Tarble swallows hard and steps closer.. raditz grips Bardock’s glove, knuckles white. The ship’s landing thrusters ignite.
The ground trembles The Cold ship hits the landing zone with a deep metallic thud that vibrates through the courtyard stones. Dust ripples outward in a ring, brushing against the boots of King Vegeta, the royal council, Bardock, and the children gathered behind them. The engines wind down with a low, unsettling hum — too smooth, too cold, too unlike any Saiyan craft. Rivers flinches at the sound and tightens her grip on King Vegeta’s cape. Tarble steps closer to Vegeta, tail coiling around his leg.
Raditz presses against Bardock’s side, trying not to show how fast he’s breathing. Vegeta doesn’t blink. His eyes stay locked on the ship. The ramp begins to lower.
A hiss of pressure.
A blast of cold air.
A long, slow descent.
King Vegeta shifts his stance, planting his boots firmly, cape sweeping around the children like a shield. His tail lowers into a defensive curve — a silent warning to anyone watching.
Bardock mirrors him on the opposite side, one hand resting lightly on Raditz’s shoulder, the other hovering near his scouter.
The ramp touches the ground.
Silence.
Then—
A massive figure steps into view.
King Cold emerges first, towering, regal, and terrifyingly composed. His tail drags behind him with a slow, deliberate sweep that makes the courtyard feel even smaller. Frost clings to the edges of his armor, shimmering in the red light of Planet Vegeta’s sky.
Rivers’ breath catches.
She ducks behind King Vegeta’s leg, peeking out with wide, frightened eyes.
King Cold’s gaze sweeps the courtyard — slow, assessing, predatory.
Behind him, a smaller figure steps forward.
Frieza.
His tail flicks lazily behind him, and his eyes gleam with a sharp, curious interest as he scans the Saiyan palace grounds.
Vegeta’s jaw tightens.
His fists clench.
His tail bristles, fur standing on end.
Tarble inches closer to him, whispering under his breath.
“Vegeta…”
Vegeta doesn’t answer.
King Vegeta steps forward, chin lifted, expression carved from stone.
“King Cold.”
King Cold smiles — a slow, icy curl of the lips.
“King Vegeta.”
Frieza steps out from behind his father, head tilting as he spots the children clustered behind the Saiyan king.
His eyes linger on Vegeta.
Then on Tarble.
Then on Rivers — the smallest, half‑hidden behind the king’s cape.
Rivers ducks further behind King Vegeta, tail coiling tight around her waist.
The ramp finishes lowering with a metallic groan, settling against the stone. King Cold descends first, towering and composed, frost as if the cold king didn't show up without warning and if its just a day trip Frieza follows, smaller but radiating a sharper, more focused presence.
King Vegeta steps forward, cape sweeping behind him, the children tucked close at his back. His chin lifts, his expression carved from iron.
“King Cold. What brings you to my planet unannounced?”
His voice is steady, but the tension in his shoulders betrays the truth. His tail lowers into a defensive curve, subtly blocking Rivers from view.
King Cold’s smile widens, slow and deliberate, as if savoring the discomfort in the air.
“A simple visit, King Vegeta. A… check‑in.”
Behind him, Frieza’s eyes drift away from the adults.
He scans the courtyard.
Frieza tilts his head.
A small, curious smile forms
He takes a single step forward, tail swaying lazily behind him.
King Vegeta shifts immediately, blocking more of the children with his cape. His hand drops behind him, brushing her shoulder — a silent command to stay hidden.
Rivers presses closer to his leg, eyes wide, breath shallow.
Vegeta jaw tightens.
His fists clench.
His tail bristles, fur standing on end.
He steps half a foot forward, placing himself between Frieza and his sister.
Bardock’s eyes narrow as he watches the exchange. His hand settles on Raditz’s shoulder, pulling him subtly behind his leg.
Frieza’s smile grows.
He leans slightly to the side, trying to catch another glimpse of Rivers behind King Vegeta’s cape.
“Well now… what do we have here?”
Rivers flinches at the sound of his voice, her fingers tightening around the king’s cape.
King Vegeta’s tail snaps once — a sharp, warning arc.
“That,” he says, voice low and controlled, “is none of your concern.”
Frieza’s eyes gleam. as King Cold stands tall, hands clasped behind his back, tail sweeping the ground in a slow, deliberate arc. His gaze drifts lazily across the Saiyan king, the council, Bardock, and finally the children huddled behind King Vegeta’s cape.
He smiles — a calm, practiced expression that never reaches his eyes.
“We are simply here to check on the status of your newer soldiers.”
The words roll out smoothly, almost politely, but the weight behind them presses into the courtyard like a cold hand.
King Vegeta’s jaw tightens.
His cape shifts as he subtly moves Rivers further behind him.
His tail lowers into a defensive curve, but his voice remains steady.
“Yes. Of course.”
A controlled breath.
A slight lift of his chin.
“I simply did not expect the visit today. No one informed us of your arrival.”
The royal council stiffens behind him, exchanging uneasy glances. Bardock’s eyes narrow, his hand tightening on Raditz’s shoulder as he watches King Cold’s every movement.
Frieza steps forward a half‑pace, tail swaying lazily behind him. His eyes flick toward the children again — first Vegeta, then Tarble, then Rivers.
Rivers flinches and ducks deeper behind King Vegeta’s cape, gripping the fabric with both hands. Her tail coils tightly around her waist, trembling.
Frieza’s smile sharpens.
King Cold lifts a hand in a dismissive, almost playful gesture.
“Oh, no need for alarm, King Vegeta. We thought a surprise inspection would be… enlightening.”
Vegeta’s fists clench at his sides.
Tarble inches closer to him, eyes darting nervously.
Raditz presses against Bardock, who shifts subtly to block Frieza’s line of sight.
King Vegeta’s voice drops lower, colder.
“Next time, I expect notice.”
King Cold’s smile widens.
“We shall see.” frieza’s eyes linger on the children, sharp and curious, the corners of his mouth curling upward as if he’s discovered something amusing. His tail sways behind him in a slow, lazy arc.
Rivers shrinks back behind King Vegeta’s cape, but her gaze keeps flicking toward the small, pale figure standing beside King Cold. Her fingers tighten around the fabric, knuckles white.
She leans closer to Vegeta, tugging gently at the edge of his glove.
Her voice is barely a whisper.
“Vegeta… who’s that guy…?”
Vegeta glances down at her — just a flick of his eyes — then back at Frieza. His jaw tightens. His tail bristles, fur standing on end She’s heard stories — whispers from soldiers, murmurs from guards — about the Cold prince. But she’s never seen him. Never felt this cold, prickling sensation crawling up her spine.
Her voice trembles.
“I… I heard about him… but I never met him before…”
Vegeta shifts subtly, stepping half a foot in front of her, blocking more of Frieza’s line of sight. His cape sways with the movement, brushing against her shoulder like a shield.
“That’s Frieza,” he murmurs, voice low, controlled. “Stay behind me.”
Rivers nods quickly, eyes wide, tail coiling tighter around her waist.
Frieza tilts his head, noticing the movement behind King Vegeta’s cape. His smile sharpens, and he leans slightly to the side, trying to catch another glimpse of the small Saiyan girl hiding behind her father and brother.
Vegeta steps again — a deliberate, protective shift — cutting off Frieza’s view entirely.
Tarble notices and moves too, planting himself beside Vegeta, tail curled tight, eyes darting nervously.
Raditz stiffens beside Bardock, watching the exchange with growing unease.
King Cold’s gaze flicks toward his son, then toward the children, amusement glinting in his eyes.
King Vegeta’s tail snaps once — a sharp, warning arc — as he positions himself fully between the Cold family and his own.
king Vegeta takes one step back toward the children, cape sweeping around them like a shield. His tail lowers into a protective curve.
“Let’s go inside. Children — come.”
Rivers immediately moves toward him, fingers still curled in the fabric of his cape. Tarble follows, tail wrapped tightly around his leg.
Vegeta doesn’t move.
His eyes stay locked on Frieza.
His fists clench.
His tail bristles, fur standing on end.
He takes a half‑step forward instead of back.
“But Father—”
King Vegeta turns his head just slightly.
Vegeta now
The prince freezes.
His breath catches.
His tail stops bristling mid‑motion.
His shoulders stiffen, pride and instinct wrestling inside him.
Rivers looks up at him, eyes wide, tugging gently at his glove.
“Vegeta… come on…”
Tarble reaches for his sleeve too, voice small.
“Please…”
Vegeta’s jaw works as he swallows hard.
He glances once more at Frieza — who is still watching him with that unsettling, curious smile — then steps backward toward his father.
King Vegeta shifts his cape, guiding all three children behind him with a firm sweep of his arm.
Bardock mirrors the movement on the opposite side, pulling Raditz close.
King Cold’s eyes gleam with quiet amusement.
And King Vegeta’s voice drops low, steady, commanding.
“Inside. All of you.”
The children obey