Chapter Text
Bulma gazed up at the moon later that night, hugging her arms around her body as she shuddered. Even with her furs and leathers and the proximity near the stables which had torches on the walls to keep the Saiyan stallions warm, she could feel a chill. She did not know if it was the unusually cold weather, or if it was her daring plan, but there was no turning back now. The wheels would begin turning soon for her wedding, so she had to put her plan into action, lest she wind up married to a suitor she knew she could never love.
Behind her, Rebel was restless. While Nappa's stallion Volcano was sleeping peacefully in the old stables of her family's property, Rebel sounded like he was going to break free at any moment. Vegeta had secured Rebel and fed him earlier that evening before the Saiyans had retired to their guest chambers for the night, but it did not seem to be enough to satisfy the wild stallion. Bulma turned her gaze from the moon back towards the stables. From her vantage point, she could see the powerful black stallion as he seemed to pull against his restraints, neighing wildly with constant shakes of his head.
There was a part of her that wanted to get closer to him – she had only seen a horse once in her life before, and part of her was curious to see him up close. The stallions the Saiyans rode were beasts of legend, after all. Another part of her felt pity for him; she could not imagine allowing any animal to be so agitated all night long.
Before she could think more on it, Krillin came into her vision. Bulma was standing near the stables, but in the shadows out in the gardens where they would not be easily seen from the windows. She hugged herself more as she waited.
Finally, Krillin joined her. She scowled at him with impatience.
"You are tardy, Krillin," she told him with annoyance, though she made sure to keep her voice down.
"I ask your forgiveness, Bulma," Krillin sheepishly said. "I left my guest chambers at the agreed upon time, but your father was speaking with Vegeta about you in the hallway, so I dared not come out."
Bulma's annoyance melted into confusion. "They were speaking of me?"
"From the little I gathered, yes."
"What were they saying?"
"I only caught portions, but it seemed to be Lord Briefs telling Vegeta to respect your honor as a lady until your wedding."
"What did Vegeta say?" Bulma asked curiously.
"I did not linger to hear," Krillin responded, rubbing his hands for warmth before blowing into them. "I came as soon as I heard them depart back to their chambers. Now, what did you wish to discuss?"
"Your master's sister. I have heard she is a sorceress. I would like to ask her assistance in locating the dragon balls." Bulma pulled out what looked like a compass from the trousers she was now wearing, showing it to Krillin. "I have made this to track the dragon balls, but they are magical in nature. I have tried using all I know of science, I have studied my dragon ball, I have studied navigation compasses, and I have run many tests. Still, my tracker is only half accurate. See, watch."
She clicked the top button of the compass, and the needle spun wildly. Finally, it focused, pointing northwest of them.
"That initial direction is correct; it is pointing to where my dragon ball is hidden," she told Krillin, who hovered closely as he watched in fascination. "But then…"
The needle shook, and then began spinning wildly again. It did not stop, and so she clicked the top button again to force it to stop spinning. She then put the tracker in Krillin's hand, making his eyes widen in surprise.
"You want me to take this to the sorceress Baba?"
"Yes, the sorceress can finish my tracker with magic. Once she does, we shall use the tracker to gather all the dragon balls. Vegeta and Nappa will be leaving tomorrow morning, and so, while the Saiyans prepare for the tournament they are throwing to honor my engagement with Vegeta, you and I will find all the dragon balls," she excitedly said, her blue eyes bright. "We shall have them all before the tournament."
"Hmm…" Krillin frowned, looking doubtful as he looked back down at the tracker in his hands. "Master Roshi's sister is a peculiar old woman. She will not do this for free."
"Of course," Bulma said, and then Krillin blinked in surprise as she bent down and picked up a large bag from the ground, then put it in his arms. "There. That is enough coin for even the most peculiar of sorceresses."
"Well, it does carry a weight, so it should suffice," Krillin said, blinking again as he felt the heavy weight of the coins.
"The tracker is half complete, so she should not be requesting more," Bulma huffed with annoyance. "It is not as though I am asking for the tracker to be created from the beginning. Now, I ask that you go now to find her, and tell her what I need. You are Master Roshi's top student, and she is familiar with you, so she should help you."
"You want me to go now?" Krillin blinked. "This cannot wait until morning?"
"The sooner you go and complete the tracker, the sooner we may begin hunting down the dragon balls. If you leave now, you can find her in the morning."
Krillin shifted uncomfortably. "I promised your father I would be your escort though, I would rather not leave you alone."
Bulma smiled. "Beloved Krillin, I am not alone. I am home, the Saiyans are sleeping, and they shall be gone in the morning. I shall speak with my father, to tell him that you had an urgent matter that needed attending. You can come back as soon as she finishes, which should not take more than a day or two."
Krillin appeared to ponder that, before nodding and putting the half-complete dragon ball tracker in his trouser pockets. "The myths say that the legendary dragon grants three wishes. What shall you wish for, Bulma?"
Bulma's smile grew romantic as she dreamily looked up to the moon. "I shall wish first to change the minds of my father and Vegeta's parents, to make them rescind our match. Then I shall wish for the dragon to bring me my true love, my soul mate, so that I may finally meet him," she sighed happily.
"That is only two wishes."
"Perhaps with the third I shall wish for a lifetime supply of strawberries!" Bulma said with a giggle. Upon seeing the skeptical look Krillin was giving her, she looked at him with a kind smile. "Well, how about I give you the third wish, Krillin? You shall deserve it, if we make it that far to summon the legendary dragon."
Krillin instantly brightened. "Truly?"
"Yes, truly. No one would deserve it more."
"I thank you for the tremendous offer, Bulma," he said with a grin, bowing his head in gratitude. "I will begin to make way back to my squadron, and when daylight breaks, I shall find the sorceress."
"Krillin," she said, her blue eyes suddenly serious. "You must not let anyone learn about the existence of the dragon balls. If more people find out that they are real, our journey will become perilous."
"What about Baba?"
"Well, she would not be much of a sorceress if she did not already know of their existence."
He smiled. "Right. Well, I shall return as soon as possible with the completed tracker."
"Thank you, Krillin. Take care along the way."
The two friends shared an embrace, and then Krillin was gone. Bulma watched him go until he disappeared from sight – a warrior trained from the time he could walk, Krillin could move with incredible stealth. Finally, she turned her blue eyes back up to the moon above, smiling in relief as she thought about her wishes and dreamed about her true love.
Soon, all would be well again, she was sure of it.
Bulma was eventually brought out of her daydreaming by Rebel's restlessness, which seemed to be getting worse. She hugged herself again, looking back over in his direction. Concern came over her at the sight of him. He looked so agitated and upset, likely from the unfamiliarity of his surroundings.
The poor thing, she thought to herself. Finally, despite her better judgment, she went over in his direction. She may have lacked experience with horses, but she loved animals, and they had always responded well to her. Perhaps, Rebel would be no different.
She came into the warm light of the stables, going over to the wild black stallion. Bulma hesitated for a moment as she stood just outside the stable door, behind which Rebel was secured.
Immediately sensing her there, the black stallion turned, roughly shaking his mane as he neighed, finally facing her. Rebel snorted, his deep, dark eyes locking on hers, and Bulma was mesmerized by his spirit. She couldn't help her smile as the stallion's restlessness briefly paused. Rebel snorted again, but did not resist or pull away when Bulma reached up to gently scratch his muzzle.
"Hello there," Bulma whispered, her smile spreading. "You look and sound so vicious, but you are really just in need of love, aren't you?"
Rebel neighed softly. Growing bolder, Bulma ran her hand up his coat, rubbing his head as he bent it down to her.
"What are you doing?" a gruff voice demanded.
Startled, Bulma pulled her hand away from Rebel, looking over to the side. Vegeta was standing there, in a loose black shirt that was fully unbuttoned and open, exposing a good portion of his bare chest. He was in black boots and gray trousers, his black and gold sword belt hanging loosely off his hips, as though he had just thrown it on.
"My prince," Bulma breathed in surprise. She hoped the soft light from the torches hid her blush as her eyes briefly skirted over his bare skin exposed to her, before she looked away in embarrassment. "I thought you were asleep," she sheepishly said.
"I could say the same about you, my lady," Vegeta replied. "The hour is late."
"Yes," she agreed, looking back at him. Vegeta was looking down as he started buttoning up his shirt, but he only did it halfway, stopping at his sternum. Bulma couldn't help but bite her lip. He was lean but compact with a wonderful physique; it was a shame she could not stand his personality, because he was quite easy to look at.
"What are you doing with Rebel?" he demanded impatiently, his eyes shifting up to his stallion. Vegeta extended his hand to Rebel, who gently nuzzled his head against the prince's palm.
"I was taking a stroll, as I could not sleep. I heard him, he was quite restless," Bulma explained, watching in fascination as the prince showed his stallion a gentleness she had thought him incapable of.
He glanced at her with a scowl of annoyance, before looking back at Rebel. "You should not have touched him without my permission," he growled in irritation, reaching to scratch Rebel behind his ear. "He does not like new surroundings, and he does not care for new people. He may have reared up and kicked you in the face."
"He seemed to like me well enough, my prince," Bulma huffed a little, defensively. She looked at the black beast, but it did seem that now with Vegeta there, the stallion much preferred the prince's affection over hers.
Vegeta said nothing for a time, keeping his eyes on his stallion. His mind was on the conversation earlier that evening with Bulma's father. It was the usual protective father speech, about being considerate of his daughter's honor, respecting her as a wife, on and on. None of it had surprised Vegeta, until the very end, when the old man had told him that Bulma yearned the most for true love. Love was a concept in the Saiyan kingdom that only existed between a mother and her cubs. Between a couple, there was only loyalty, camaraderie, and trust. Perhaps caring, if one was so fortunate to be matched extremely well – like his parents were. He found the Terrans to be fools to chase such sentimental ideas such as love, but Lord Briefs had wisely suggested he make some effort, for a happy and satisfied queen would make his life much easier.
The prince shifted his dark eyes to his betrothed, who was on the other side of Rebel, openly admiring the stallion. Her blue curled hair was only half pulled up, and she was dressed far more warmly than he was. He noticed with some interest that she was no longer dressed like a lady – now she was dressed in trousers and boots, like the inventor she was. He found he did not dislike it.
Bulma patted Rebel's mane, and though Vegeta scowled at that, he stayed silent a moment longer before he finally spoke again, breaking the comfortable silence.
"I woke because I felt his restlessness," Vegeta admitted, drawing her attention back to him. Bulma looked at him in surprise.
"You can feel him?"
"Yes. All Saiyans are kindred spirits with their horses. I found Rebel in the wild. I broke him in over months, and I tamed him. We are one in the same," Vegeta explained.
"He does not seem fully tame," Bulma commented, making Vegeta smirk.
"Neither am I, my lady," he drawled.
Without warning, the prince then opened the stable door, making Bulma take a surprised step back. Her eyes widened as Vegeta walked in and worked on loosening Rebel's restraints.
"Is- is that wise, my prince?" Bulma asked warily.
Vegeta snickered. "He needs a ride. That will settle his restless energy, unless you wish to coddle him all night."
"But with the darkness, it could be dangerous."
The prince shot her an annoyed look. "You are my betrothed, not my mother," he growled. "I expect you to behave like it."
Bulma huffed, her blue eyes blazing with anger. "Are you capable of having a civilized conversation for more than several minutes, Prince Vegeta?"
"The point still stands," he evenly said, securing Rebel's saddle.
"Well, forgive me for not wanting to see you crack your head open in the middle of the night, though you would deserve it," she shot at him.
"I am overwhelmed by your kindness," Vegeta sarcastically replied. Rebel neighed impatiently, knowing a ride was imminent. Vegeta clicked his tongue, and the stallion briefly settled. The prince looked back then at Bulma curiously. "Have you ever ridden, my lady?"
Bulma blinked in surprise, before she blushed a little in embarrassment. "No, we do not have animals like this here in this kingdom, it is extremely rare."
"Would you like to ride tonight?" Vegeta casually asked.
Bulma seemed taken aback by the question. "Do you jest?" she asked, studying his eyes and wondering if this was a game.
Vegeta chuckled. "No, my lady. If you are to be my Saiyan queen, you must learn to ride, or you shall have no respect among my people. It will be safe, so long as you do not panic and trust me."
Bulma hesitated, watching as Vegeta easily and expertly hoisted himself up onto Rebel. He made the motion look as smooth as air as he picked up the reins and looked down at her. Even in his more casual night wear, he still looked every inch a prince.
"Well?" Vegeta gruffly asked as Rebel began to trot impatiently in place.
The opportunity to ride such a stallion with a Saiyan to help guide her was one she found she could not turn down. She could only imagine how thrilling it would be. Still, she hesitated further, frowning as her distrustful gaze shifted back to Vegeta.
"Are you sure it is safe, my prince?"
"Of course," he snorted arrogantly, rolling his eyes. "Like I said, the important thing is you stay relaxed. If you are just going to panic when he acts wild, then stay here, lest you kill us both. Rebel can sense your calm and your fear, so you must be brave. I plan on providing you a mare of your own soon, so you may wait for that instead, if you like. The choice is yours, my lady."
Her head was saying that waiting for a gentle mare was the wiser decision. Everything about joining Rebel and Vegeta for a night ride seemed incredibly dangerous, and yet, she found herself unable to turn away, seduced by the thrill of the idea.
"Very well, I shall join you," she finally agreed, making Vegeta smirk in appreciation, his respect for her growing a fraction in his chest.
He easily dismounted again as she removed her furs, leaving her in a warm leather coat. Vegeta offered her his hand, and then helped her climb up on Rebel, directing her how to do a proper mount. The stallion somehow seemed taller now that she wanted to get on top of him, and she was grateful she was no longer in a dress.
Bulma swallowed as she sat atop Rebel, who was growing more impatient by the minute. She couldn't help the shudder from the excitement of being on top of a proper Saiyan stallion, with the thrill of a real prince to guide her, even one as sour as Vegeta.
Still, she was entirely unprepared for the feeling of Vegeta mounting Rebel and sitting directly behind her, so close she could feel his chest on her back as they shared the saddle. She had never been this close to a man before, outside of casual embraces with her friends and her father, and she couldn't help but shudder again as he snaked one arm around her waist from behind, moving it inside her coat. It should not have felt as intimate as it did, and she resisted the urge to whimper when she felt the strength and warmth of his arm. She took a breath to steady her breathing, her heart pounding as he whispered in her ear.
"Stay relaxed, and trust me, my lady," he said, his voice teasing and quiet. "Keep your legs relaxed. When he rears, lean forward so we don't fall."
"I shall keep all that in mind."
"Good. Here. Grab onto this," he instructed, tying the reins around his free hand tightly and leaving enough for her to grab onto. Rebel impatiently trotted in a circle. "Ready?"
"Yes," she breathed.
Vegeta gave Rebel a sudden squeeze with his legs, and then the stallion shot out like a bullet, making Bulma shriek in a mixture of fright and excitement as she held on for dear life. She relaxed only slightly when Vegeta squeezed her around the waist, assuring her that he was there, but her heart was pounding hard from the adrenaline of the ride as Rebel tore past the gardens of her family's property. Soon they were past the gardens and into the lush vegetation on Mount Paozu. Rebel fiercely galloped into the forest, expertly maneuvering around the trees, his force seemingly unstoppable as Vegeta guided him with the reins and with his legs.
Bulma laughed loudly in the night, unbothered by even the cold air as it whipped through her blue curls. She finally understood why the Saiyans loved riding so much; she had never had a more thrilling experience in her life. Unconsciously, she moved one hand from the reins to Vegeta's arm that was around her, something that did not escape his notice.
Finally, Vegeta gave a verbal command and a tug on the reins, and Rebel came to a stop on a clearing next to a stream that overlooked a short waterfall. Rebel neighed and reared up on his hind legs, but Bulma remembered what Vegeta had said and she leaned her weight forward, with the prince behind her helping them keep a balance. Rebel dropped back to all fours and began an easy trot.
"Gods in heaven," Bulma laughed breathlessly. She was almost dizzy from the adrenaline rush, and took a breath to bring her nerves back down. Vegeta gave a click with his tongue which brought Rebel to a stop with a gentle nickering. "Small wonder you Saiyans love this so-"
"Quiet, Bulma," Vegeta whispered. At the use of her name, Bulma quieted, looking over her shoulder at him in surprise. Vegeta was gazing down over the waterfall, brow furrowed. She followed his line of sight, and saw a small camp set up on a clearing below, past the water, with a few soldiers around a fire.
Those are Ice-jin banners, Vegeta thought to himself in bewilderment. Though the Terran kingdom shared a border with the Ice-jin, he knew for a fact that they had not ridden that far. They were still in the plentiful region of the Terran kingdom, that was for certain. He had no idea what business they may have in the Terran kingdom, and he felt uneasy.
"Who is that?" Bulma whispered worriedly.
"The Ice-jin," Vegeta answered to her shock.
Suddenly, a barrage of arrows flew in their direction. Vegeta practically forced Bulma down on Rebel, both teenagers ducking as the arrows whizzed over their heads. Suddenly frightened, the stallion instantly galloped away with charging speed before Vegeta could help Bulma get back to a proper stance. She could only hang onto Rebel for dear life, shrieking with fright as Rebel tore through the forest again.
Vegeta grit his teeth, trying to get control of his stallion while also trying to help Bulma. He finally got Bulma to sit back up, right as Rebel reared up on his hind legs again. Bulma lost her balance and fell backwards, taking Vegeta with her as they both tumbled clear off the stallion with startled cries. Too late, they realized they had not been on level ground in the forest, as both teenagers violently tumbled head over heels down a ridge in a storm of grass, rocks, and dirt.
Finally, the world stopped spinning. Bulma winced, slowly pushing herself up to her hands and knees with a whimper. She looked up, her blue hair disheveled. The forest was thick, and the moonlight only barely peeked through the tops of the trees, making it darker than normal.
"Vegeta?" she whispered.
She heard no sign of him or Rebel. She squinted, trying to see, impatient for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Slowly getting back up to her feet, she counted her blessings; she was sore and felt some scratches and soon-to-be bruises, but nothing was broken. Wiping her face, she felt some warm blood, but she would survive. As her vision began to adjust, she looked up the ridge where they had fallen off Rebel, eyes widening at the height of it.
"Vegeta!" she whispered again, more forcefully this time. She strained her hearing, but could only hear the faint sounds of birds in the trees. Frowning in growing concern, she began to carefully walk, her blue eyes searching. He had been behind her on Rebel and would have taken the brunt of the fall, and must have tumbled down the ridge with her.
Finally, her eyes sharpened when she spotted him. Vegeta was laying on his side several feet from where she had landed. With a gasp, she raced over to him, kneeling down next to the fallen prince.
"Vegeta!" she cried. She grabbed him and pulled him towards her, meeting no resistance as she rolled him on his back. His head lolled towards her, his eyes closed, half his face smeared with blood.
"Oh, Gods, I killed him!" Bulma whispered in dismay. What would be the penalty for killing the heir to the Saiyan throne? And with the way she had reacted to him during the day, Nappa would surely assume she had killed the prince on purpose!
She paused and took a breath, forcing herself to think about him and not herself. She examined Vegeta more carefully as her eyes fully adjusted to the dark. She noted with immense relief that he did appear to be breathing, and thus realized the prince was deeply unconscious, not dead.
Feeling calmer now, she tried following the blood on his face, trying to find the source. Finally, she reached behind his head and touched him as gently as she dared, feeling fresh warm blood through his hair. He must have hit the back of his head during the fall.
Bulma looked around, trying to find something to bind Vegeta's head wound. He may not have died on impact, but she had no idea where they were, and she didn't want him to bleed out before they could get help. She growled in annoyance when all that was nearby was grass, leaves, rocks, and dirt. Looking down at herself, she wondered what clothing she could potentially remove to help wrap around his head – noting that she was not wearing the right type of clothing for that, not with the leathers she had chosen to stay warm.
Finally, looking down at him, it occurred to her that the material of Vegeta's shirt would do perfectly.
Bulma bit her bottom lip – I couldn't. It was too intimate a maneuver, wasn't it? She hesitated, but when she looked back up at his face and saw how pale he was even in the darkness, she decided it was better to be uncomfortable than to risk Vegeta dying from blood loss. She convinced herself that it was only to avoid the political fall-out that she was invested in his well-being, and for no other reason.
Committed now, she went to work on unbuttoning his now dirtied shirt. As quickly and as gently as she could, she opened it up and slipped it free from his arms, careful not to risk hurting him more, until she finally had it removed completely. Bulma could feel her blush, but her concern was growing with how unresponsive he was. She gently raised his head and slid his shirt around it until she had the wound bound tightly around his head. Finally, she removed her own coat, using it to cover Vegeta's bare skin so he would not be cold.
"There," she breathed, gazing down at him. She swallowed heavily, hesitating, before gently touching the face of the man who was meant to be her husband as she studied him more openly than she dared when he was awake. "I told you it was too dark to ride," she chastised him, as though he would be woken by the need to offer a smart response to that. She was almost disappointed when he didn't.
Figuring she had helped Vegeta as much as she could for the time being, Bulma pulled away and stood up, looking to see how to get back home or get them help. No one knew they had left, and would not notice their disappearance until the sun rose. She knew many of the forests, but she was disoriented, and at the moment, everything looked the same. She would get lost if she ventured far; plus, she did not have the heart to leave Vegeta, especially when-
Her heart suddenly started pounding when she remembered the soldiers who had fired the arrows in their direction. Would they follow her and Vegeta, and try again to shoot them with arrows – or worse? She fretted, then went back over to Vegeta to check him again. Sure enough, he still had his sword belt. She sighed in relief, then removed the sword from his scabbard. Bulma was stunned by the weight of the steel – she needed two hands just to raise it.
Bulma shrieked in fright when she heard something behind her. She spun around, both hands on the handle of Vegeta's sword as she held it in front of her. She heard a snort and then a nicker, as Rebel trotted into view.
"Oh, Rebel," she breathed out in relief, lowering the tip of the sword to the ground. The stallion paused and seemed to stare at her with his deep, dark eyes. She felt absurdly compelled to tell the horse, "I was afraid. Someone tried to shoot us back there. I panicked and we fell, it was an accident," she said defensively.
Rebel snorted again, shaking his head, and Bulma frowned at him – yes, this was indeed Vegeta's horse, as he seemed to have inherited his rider's attitude. Her blue eyes widened in fascination though as she watched the stallion trot over to his fallen rider. Rebel lowered his head, nuzzling the side of Vegeta's face. To her shock, the prince weakly grunted and stirred from the contact.
Bulma quickly went back over to him, on the other side of Rebel as she knelt down next to the prince, observing him carefully as he continued stirring. Rebel pulled back, trotting in a circle next to them.
"Vegeta?" she asked nervously. She let out a shaky breath of relief when Vegeta's eyes slowly fluttered open as he groaned. The prince blinked slowly and heavily with visible effort, before his gaze lazily settled on her.
His eyes were half-lidded and hazy from his injury, but she did not care. The relief overwhelmed Bulma so much, she could have hugged him. She was even willing to wipe their slate clean and start over, she was so happy to see him awake.
Before she could get a word out, though, Vegeta slurred, "You did not…lean forward…idiot woman."
Bulma's wide smile vanished, replaced by a glare. "I believe I may have liked you better when you were unconscious, my prince," she angrily told him.
Vegeta swallowed, gazing up at her with difficulty. "You are…beautiful when…angry," he mumbled. Bulma's glare morphed into a look of utter confusion and bewilderment. He thought she was beautiful? Or was it just his injury speaking?
She never did get the chance to respond to that when an unfamiliar voice spoke out.
"Good, we found you."
Bulma yelped, scrambling for Vegeta's sword as she stood, gripping the handle tightly with both hands as she held the steel out in front of her. In front of her were three soldiers, and even she who was not well-versed in politics, she could recognize their Ice-jin uniform.
"Do not come any closer, or the entire Terran kingdom will be coming for you!" Bulma yelled, even though the sword shook.
"Why? You are not the Princess Chi-Chi," one of the soldiers sneered. "We could bury you here. You would not be missed."
"Maybe not…but I would be," Vegeta's gruff voice cut in. The prince had managed to sit up, one hand holding his head, the other hand back on the ground to keep his balance as the coat that was covering him fell off. He eyed the Ice-jin with one eye squeezed shut. Bulma turned back to him in surprise. She could see how flushed his face was from the effort to pull himself up.
The soldiers visibly hesitated at the sight of him. Despite the shirt wrapped haphazardly around his head, and him missing his royal armor, there was no doubt who he was.
"Prince Vegeta," one of them said, nervously glancing at his comrades.
Vegeta extended his right hand to Bulma, who at first absurdly thought he wanted her hand in return. She quickly realized that he was really asking for his sword, and she hurriedly handed it to him. Vegeta gripped it tightly by the handle, took a few breaths, and then in one motion forced himself back up to his feet. The prince staggered, his knees weak, but he remained standing.
He was panting roughly through his nose, fresh sweat breaking over his skin as he raised his sword, pointing it at them. Maybe they would go ahead and kill him and Bulma anyway, but he would be damned to die without a fight. He would kill at least one of them in the process, of that he was certain. He had never actually fought to the death before, but there was no time like the present.
"Fight me then…if you dare," Vegeta growled. "Then my father…will burn all the Ice-jin to fucking ashes," he swore.
The soldiers faltered, and conversed with themselves in hushed whispers, to Bulma's great surprise and relief. In her mind, they could surely defeat Vegeta, outnumbered as he was, and especially while he barely had the strength to stand. But when she caught "Prince Frieza" being thrown in their hushed conversation, she realized that the ramifications of killing Vegeta were too great for these low soldiers to take the risk.
"Another time, prince – when you can truly fight, so you lack excuses when you are cut down," one of the soldiers promised, before spitting on the ground in front of Vegeta. With that, the three of them ran off into the darkness of the forest.
As soon as they were out of sight and they could not be heard anymore, Vegeta lowered his sword, his head falling to his chest as he swayed on his feet. Bulma barely managed to scramble to him before he collapsed, grabbing him as he fell to his knees in exhaustion, with Bulma falling to her knees with him.
"I believe I was handling the situation, my prince," she tried chiding him as he rested his head on her shoulder. She bit her lip against the feeling of having him bare chested and leaning so heavily against her, looking over to Rebel. "Can you ride?"
"Doubt it," he mumbled. She had him almost in an embrace, and he was distracted from his pain by her soft hands on his back.
"This is not the outing I was expecting on the first day of meeting you, my prince."
He snorted.
She licked her lips a little, before quietly adding, "You are quite brave, Vegeta."
Vegeta grunted softly, and she was not sure if he had even registered her compliment.
"Bulma?"
She looked to the side, away from Vegeta, and felt like crying with relief at the sight of Krillin running over to them.
"Krillin! How did you find us?"
"I was still making my way back to the squadron, when I heard commotion. I saw Ice-jin men, and I was tracking them to see where they were going," Krillin explained, coming over and kneeling with them. "Is Vegeta alright? What happened?"
"He has a head injury, we fell while riding his stallion after the Ice-jin tried shooting us with arrows, then they came here and tried fighting us, but Vegeta scared them off," Bulma answered in one rushed breath.
Krillin nodded, pulling Vegeta back from Bulma. The Saiyan didn't resist, more unconscious than not as Krillin shifted over and stood, lifting the prince up over his shoulder. Bulma picked up Vegeta's sword, suddenly feeling exhausted.
"Do you know the way back home?" Bulma asked. Her adrenaline was dissipating, and she was beginning to feel the soreness from the fall she had taken.
"Yes," Krillin replied, glancing over at Rebel who was nibbling on grass. "Can you bring his horse back?"
"We don't need to, Rebel will follow, now or later," Bulma replied. Krillin nodded as they began the trek back to her manor with Krillin leading the way.
"I do not like that the Ice-jin are here," Krillin muttered as they walked. "I shall inform Master Roshi in the morning."
"Yes," Bulma said with unease. "I believe Vegeta being here caught them by surprise. They seemed willing to kill me, but would not even engage him."
"Why were you both out here at this hour of the night?" Krillin asked.
"Vegeta was taking his stallion for a ride, he offered me the chance to accompany him."
Krillin chuckled. "It seems much has changed since I left you near the stables, Bulma."
Bulma didn't reply to that, refusing to believe it. The night had been a blur, and all that was needed was good rest to recover from it. She still had no intention of changing her wishes. Still, her blue eyes did skirt over to the prince that was slung over Krillin's shoulder. She remembered his gentleness with Rebel in the stables, his half-coherent admission that he found her beautiful, his bravery and strength of will in standing up to the Ice-jin soldiers despite his pain.
Maybe there really was more to him than she thought, after all.