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Trunks leaned against his bow as he watched his father’s former pupil, the Sheriff of Nottingham, Cabba, glance at the target with purpose. Trunks wanted to roll his eyes at the display; the sun was bearing down on him, and the wig he was wearing under his hat was itchy and uncomfortable, but he gave a light chuckle. “Ye be looking at that target like he killed yer mader,” Trunks disguised his voice with an accent of a local commoner as he slapped Cabba hard on the back. Cabba grunted and turned to glare at him before taking his stance and Trunks whistled, “Well now, that be a good figure there, but ye be lookin’ stiff.”
“And you will be wise to back off, peasant,” Cabba nearly snarled at him.
“Whoa now, take it easy! Just having a bit of fun!” Trunks stepped away with an easy grin, trying to suppress the urge to scratch his chin under his false, itchy beard. “Ye be wanting that kiss from the fair maiden, Lady Pan!”
Cabba looked over at him from his shoulder before glancing at the royal box where Lady Pan sat, looking exquisite in a satin dress of blue that was simple in design but befitting her station. She only wore a jeweled belt and her hair was braided with blue ribbons and into buns beside her ears with a white, thin, veil on top of her head. Trunks bit back a smile and moved his gaze to Prince Champa who sat on the throne beside Goten, who was disguised as a duke in a lavish pink costume and jewels but looked surprisingly comfortable in his role. “Lady Pan is an admirable maid, but she is not the one I wish to win this tournament for,” Cabba’s eyes moved to the lady who sat between Pan and Champa…Bulla.
Trunks noticed the way Cabba’s eyes longing stared at his sister, Bulla, who was more elaborate in her dress of burgundy silk, embroidered with gold-threaded intricate designs and sheer sleeves that hung from the elbows. She wore a gold circlet encrusted with rubies and her hair was braided around her head like a crown with jewels, but covered with a sheer veil. Bulla always pushed the boundaries of propriety in her dress but was a leader in women’s fashion; however, at the moment, Trunks had to repress his anger at Cabba’s interest in his sister and grinned. “Then the Lady Bulla?”
“She is truly a lady without equal.” Cabba’s lips turned to a soft smile before glancing at Trunks with a glare, “And not one who you should dare even breathe the same air with.”
Trunks quickly quelled his traitorous eyes from rolling back, if Cabba only knew how much of a shrew his baby sister truly was, but he whistled good-naturedly, “I say, now dat der be a man in love.”
Cabba glared again and turned back to the target that had been placed 30 paces farther than before and he squared his shoulders, adjusting his footing before raising his bow. Trunks watched with a bored expression as his father’s former squire slowly notched his bow as though he were a live performance art exhibition and drew the string. Trunks had to admit that he had good form, but was much too tense for this art of war; he knew that this man had never seen battle. However, Cabba took a deep breath and as he slowly exhaled, he released his arrow that went straight into the bullseye with a solid thud. There was a mixture of cheers and boos from the crowd and Trunks tipped his hat to Cabba, “Well now, that was a good shot!”
Cabba turned to him with a smirk, “I think we’re finished here, you don’t need to make a fool of yourself.”
Trunks scratched his beard, “Well, thank you kindly! But I want to give it a go all the same!” Trunks skipped over to the spot where Cabba had been standing and frowned before taking a few steps back, “Ye know, me eye-sight be not as good as it once was.”
Cabba frowned at him, “What?”
Trunks notched his arrow and raised his bow to line up his shot, effortlessly drawing back the string, “Whoo! That’s quite far isn’t it!” Trunks glanced over at the royal box where everyone was watching and caught Pan’s eye and winked at her, before letting his arrow fly.
There was a moment of dead silence before the sound of his stone arrowhead pierced through Cabba’s arrow, splintering it in half, landing squarely in the center, and hit the wood beneath. The crowd rose up from their seats and screamed in rejoice and Trunks turned back to the target, grabbing his hat with a mock show of surprise on his face, “Would ye look at that!”
Cabba glowered at him, “Yes, imagine.”
Trunks slapped him on the back hard, “Now, don’t get yeself down! I just lucky, I was!”
Trunks waved at the crowd, who were jumping in their seats and two servants came to escort him toward the royal box as he blew kisses into the crowd, causing a few ladies to go faint. Trunks gave one last wave as he reached the box and upon seeing Prince Champa, bowed low, “Your royal princelyness! It’s such an honor to be in yer majestic, royalty presence!”
Prince Champa stroked his thin goatee, “My, you have quite a way with words, sir.”
“Oh, I am modested by yer words, my liege!” Trunks bowed even lower.
“Yes….quite,” Champa purred with amusement.
“He’s got an arm, eh, PC!” Goten nudged Champa with his elbow, who grunted and grinned at his new friend.
“That he does, and Lady Pan was quite won over by his... charm,” Prince Champa turned to Pan, who blushed slightly at his words and smiled softly at Trunks.
“Why, yes, you were very admirable,” She turned to Bulla. “Wasn’t he?”
Bulla stared hard at Trunks, and he knew in that instant that she recognized him, but she smiled which did not reach her eyes, “Yes, he was very good.”
“I quite agree, my dear niece, Lady Bulla,” Prince Champa’s smile turned malicious. “Possibly even at the level of Trunks of Sadala.”
At that moment, Trunks was violently grabbed by the guards and his hat, wig, and beard torn away and a stray fist found its way across his jaw as he struggled against them. He felt metal shackles slap down on his wrists behind his back and he heard Pan cry out in shock as Prince Champa laughed in sinister glee. “Well, well, well, speak of the devil.”
Trunks spat at the ground and glared at Prince Champa, “Prince Champa, still as repugnant and gluttonous as I remember.”
Prince Champa sputtered and stood in outrage, “How dare you! How dare you speak to me this way! I am your king! And you will…”
“King?! That crown belongs to King Beerus…. LONG LIVE KING BEERUS!” Trunks bellowed at the top of his lungs and the crowd answered with an echoing sentiment that could be heard across the continent.
“No! No, no, no, no! NO! I am the King!” Prince Champs screamed, but his voice was lost in the uproar. “Trunks of Sadala! You are a traitor! A traitor to your country and king! And I sentence you to death!!!”
The sound of drums beating to a tune of darkness and doom suddenly silenced the crowd and Trunks squared his shoulders and lifted his chin as he glared at Prince Champa in defiance. However, Trunks watched in dismay as Pan ran to Prince Champa and grabbed his sleeve with an expression of despair, anguish, and panic, “Sire, please! I beg of you, show mercy!”
“My dear lady, why should I?” Champa asked with a sly expression.
“I… I love him, sire,” Pan’s voice never wavered as she looked at Trunks, her voice full of passion.
“I see… and does this man return your love?” Prince Champa asked as he looked at Trunks, but Trunks’ gaze was locked with Pan’s.
“Pan, my darling, I love you more than life itself,” Trunks hoped his words and his sentiment carried to her heart as he stared deeply into her eyes. She smiled sweetly at him with tears forming in her dark brown eyes with hints of violet around the edges and her hands clutched at her chest.
"Ah, young love… but a traitor is still a traitor… off with his he…"
Champa's words were cut off when he was pulled back against a large body and had a knife at his throat. Trunks saw from beside him Cabba reached for the handle of his sword as Goten glared at him and guards, and tightened his grip on the chubby prince. "Now that I have your attention, release my companion Trunks of Sadala and I won't hurt your precious prince," Goten's eyes were deadly serious as the blade of his knife nicked Champa's throat.
"Release me! You mean thing!" Champa cried out, but Goten ignored his pleas.
Cabba growled and released his hold on his sword as he pushed the guards away to unshackle Trunks, and the moment his hands were released, Pan ran to him to embrace him tightly. “Trunks!” She exclaimed as he wrapped his arms around her to hold her close and smiled at finally having her in his arms.
“Pan, my darling,” he said against her hair, her perfume of violets tickling his nose. He was about to speak when he heard a piercing female scream and he looked up in time to see Goten push aside Champa as Cabba moved to attack his friend. Bulla had her hand over mouth in false terror, and Trunks realized she had screamed in order to alert Goten of Cabba’s incoming attack. Goten had easily blocked Cabba’s sword with his knife and pushed back the smaller man before slamming his foot into his chest, causing Cabba to fall off the royal box and land hard on his back with a grunt. Goten’s head snapped over to Bulla and quickly made a move to throw her over his shoulder, and she screamed at him, smashing her fists into his back, “Put me down, brute!”
Trunks took that moment to take Pan’s hand and grabbed a sword on the ground just as Champa yelled at the guards to attack them. Trunks put his body in front of Pan’s as he wielded his sword and deftly deflected the attacks of the guards, and he saw from the corner of his eye, the locals running to the grounds to help him.
“Oh Trunks, you’re so impetuous!” Pan said behind him with a laugh in her voice.
Trunks grinned as he continued to push forward and watched as Goten joined the fray with his sister still draped over his shoulder, “Well, my dear, you bring the best out of me.” He turned to wink at her as he slugged the last guard with his fist and then took her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles.
Pan’s cheeks turned a fetching pink, “And you are a thief with words.”
“My love, you are mistaken, you are the lady who has stolen my heart,” Trunks’ eyes smoldered into hers and it was interrupted when they heard Goten swear loudly. Trunks glanced over to see that his sister had clocked the larger man against the temple and had escaped his hold. She picked up a sword and began to join the fray, wielding her blade with confidence that reminded Trunks of their father, fighting off the guards. Trunks saw the surprise on Goten’s face but then gave a lopsided grin before going in to help her.
Pan giggled, “It seems your friend is smitten by Bulla.”
“Heavens help us,” Trunks prayed to the sky and pushed back another guard. “Let’s go, Pan.”
Trunks didn’t stop his assault until he reached into the edges of the forest and picked up Pan into his arms to run into the safety of the trees. The sun had set by the time they reached the edges of their hideout and he carefully put Pan down as he scanned the area, listening for anyone who may have followed them. When he was sure that they were safe, he turned to Pan and he was surprised when she suddenly jumped up to put her arms around him and kissed him fervently. Trunks moaned in surprise and his arm went around her to hold her close as he gently kneaded her lips. Pan slowly pulled away and looked at him with starry eyes while fireflies began to glow around them, “Never leave me again, my love.”
Trunks smiled softly and kissed her forehead, “Never again, my darling.”