Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Sympathy For The Devil ❯ Saiyajin no Ou ( Chapter 6 )

Sympathy For The Devil

Author's Notes: Hugs to Raven for betaing!

Warnings: Violence, hints of sex and incest

Saiyajin no Ou:

Turles stood before the Saiyajin no Ou, watching him with disgust. The unrightful monarch stood proud and tall atop his dais, gazing down with a smirk that glowed victory. It was the first time Turles had ever considered defeat. He had been crushed many times throughout his past, but never once had he feared such a possibility. The sureness on the king's face made him shiver. Black eyes gazed through his soul, causing his tail to lash, and brow to sweat. Would this finally be his end? The question refused to stop haunting him, lurking in the back of his mind, ensuring his demise. If he didn't believe in himself… who would? Certainly not the band of rebels that battled behind him… they only knew him as their commander, the man who gave their executioner his axe. When Turles died, the last thread of hope that the Dynasty of Vejita possessed was gone, and Furiza would succeed. Vejitasei, the Saiyajin race… years of fighting, of battling, of struggling would be wasted. The Saiyajin's victory over the Tsufurujin would have only been delaying the inevitable.

Though considered a traitor, Turles refused to allow that to happen.

He gritted his teeth, fisted his hands, and glared up at the mockery-king with looks that could have shredded the willpower of the most evil of all beasts slithering through the swamps of Vejitasei. Unfortunately for him, those beasts still possessed shreds of their sanity. The same did not apply to Tochok. He flipped back the side of his cape, allowing the soft fabrics to settle around his shoulder, and offered Bardock the kindest and most seductive of all grins, as if greeting a long-missed lover.

"We've been waiting for you…" purred Tochok. He stepped forward, boot-clad feet silent against the floor. Saiyajin fought Saiyajin around them in the throne room. Outside and in the hallways, throughout the castle, in every sparring chamber, docking bay, hall, bedroom… Saiyajin fought Saiyajin. It had never happened before. The most powerful warrior race in the universe had never fought their brothers and sisters. There had never been a war between Saiyajin… until Furiza. Their rightful king had been snatched from them, replaced with this… this disgusting hideous mockery of a true warrior. Tochok had no pride!

"Does `we' define the voices in your head, or Furiza? Is he here, Tochok! Is your MASTER here to fight YOUR battle?" Turles was trembling with rage. His breath came in pants. Blood coated his hands… Saiyajin blood. He could feel the tension around him, from those he most trusted - his friends, lovers, and companions - to those miles away, out in the valleys and cities, killing their own kind in a vain attempt to restore sanity to Vejitasei. No one understood why they fought each other. As they drew blood and watched bodies fall, they wondered why.

For the first time in history, Saiyajin wondered why.

There was a reason, a mission that was nearly impossible, but the first step to achieving victory was Tochok's death. Turles vowed to see to it. He would not allow his kind to die without purpose!

His words had stung the Saiyajin no Ou. Tochok brushed back his shoulder-length hair with a careless flicker of his hand, lips drawn into a sadistic scowl. Perhaps Turles had been wrong. Perhaps the rumors had been stretched. Tochok may be an excellent warrior. Perhaps that was why Furiza had chosen him. Whatever the reason the king seemed so determined, it was not important. One of them would die. Turles wouldn't stop until one of them was chained up in Hell, being beaten and raped by Satan himself.

"You'll regret those words, rogue," Tochok hissed, ripping his cape away. Turles felt the calm peace of pre-battle coursing through his blood. It caused his fearful thoughts to fade, his instincts to take over. It seemed he was on the verge of falling asleep. His mind stopped; his body reacted. Lidded eyes watched as Tochok's face narrowed, brows furrowing, lips drawing back to reveal sharp canines. A fist plunged forward and Turles sidestepped, hand gripping the worthless Saiyajin's neck. Tochok choked against the fist, struggling to regain air in his chest.

The rumors had been correct.

Tochok was nothing without Furiza.

A sense of satisfaction overwhelmed Turles. He breathed in the sweet scent of victory, hands tightening around the bones, feeling the blood pulsing beneath his fingertips. Tochok was alive only because of Furiza. People had feared the Icejin's wrath. Turles no longer feared. There was nothing to tremble beneath.

`I welcome you, Furiza.'

Tochok struggled against the fist, screaming obscenities, calling for his occupied and dying guards. It was one thing to have power, but it was another thing to be powerful. Years of pain, suffering, slavery, loneliness, and imprisonment had strengthened Turles and his crew of hundreds. No one could defeat them, because they knew they were undefeatable. Every one of his warriors was lethal alone, and in a pack they were merely that much more to fear.

"Will you die screaming for your enslaver, or shall you die like a true warrior?"

As Turles expected, he watched the blast form in the king's hand. Even serving Furiza, none could take away a Saiyajin's lust for battle, and a rightful death. He dodged the blast, tossing Tochok away from him with a disgusted snarl. The blast brushed along his side. He'd moved too slowly. Turles didn't pause for an instant. Smelling his sizzling flesh, feeling warm blood run down his hip… it drove him to madness. A blast towered above him, forming in less than a blink of an eye, and was thrown across the room, striking Tochok and three of his guards that had appeared suddenly.

Three of Tochok's guards… one of Turles' gang was dead.

He rose to full height as the blast settled, leaving the ground vibrating and scorched, the floors dented, the walls cracked. The four bodies were gone. Turles closed his eyes with a soft sigh, silently searching through his men and women, counting and naming people, searching for the dead senshi that must be remembered.

"We've already taken her to the rejuvenation tank," came a quiet voice behind him. Turles spun around, eyes narrowed but excited. Cyler stood behind him, jagged black hair yanked back in a blood-coated scrap of cloth. "She was knocked unconscious by a blow to the head and she lost a lot of blood. They cut her throat… disgusting bastards," he snarled, spitting to the side. Turles grinned and chuckled, nodding faintly. No one had died. Hundreds against thousands… and none of his crew had died!

"I believe this is for you, Turles Ou." Etyce smirked, stepping forward and kneeling down before Turles. His eyes widened as he saw the cloak she held out in her arms, marked with the royal crest, the emblem of the Saiyajin no Ou hanging from the cloth, laid out for him to accept.

"I… no…" he whispered, voice trembling. Never once had he considered taking over the Saiyajin Empire once Tochok was dead. Etyce gazed up at him, her narrowed gaze irked by his refusal.

"You deserve it, Turles-sama," Cyler grinned, falling to one knee, bowing his head. The dark locks were tainted with blood that reflected the lights around them. Turles' gaze drew upwards as he watched the last few fighters loyal to Tochok die, or flee in terror. A majority of them would commit suicide, or flee the planet in shame not saving their king. Some merely ran in terror of Furiza's fury. He didn't blame any of them. If he didn't know the young Vejita Ouji was still alive, he would have taken his life years ago.

Now, however, things had drastically changed. He was being offered the kingship from his brothers and sisters, even though so few of them were left. Would Vejita Ouji even be able to become a king? Had Furiza broken him? Turles' mind was spinning quickly with thought after thought, each one contradicting the last. He didn't know, but one thing stuck out clearly in his mind: Furiza would come.

His life had always revolved solely around the Vejita Dynasty. Until the prince or an heir of his returned, Vejitasei was unguarded and unguided. Furiza would come… and they would be defenseless.

Turles reached out, touching the soft cloth. He could see his brother's face as he felt the soft velvet material - Bardock smiling up at him, holding that cloth, half nude and content with life. `It belongs to Vejita… our king.'

Our king? Your lover, you damn fucker. His fist tightened in the cloth, and he held it up, gazing across HIS people. He wrapped the dark red cape around his shoulders, tying the threads around his neck, and he grinned as the living warriors cheered, whistled, applauded, and shouted out pleased laughing obscenities and praises, cursing Furiza and vowing to serve him for the rest of their lives.

Turles barely heard any of it. He saw his brother lying across the couch, a dark blue blanket circling his bare waist, eyes staring out in space, holding the very same cape, a smile on his lips as he saw only memories… instead of his brother standing in the doorway with tears in his eyes. "It's Vejita's cape. He was here last night." Turles didn't see the applauding army, or smell the rotting flesh of the dead traitors that lay about the floor, wasting away. He saw Bardock touch the claim wound on his neck, and Turles smelled the king's scent in the room… on his brother's skin….

~~~~~~~~~

(Flashback…)

Candles that had burned were snuffed out. Bardock's words suggested he had not known of the king's coming, but the room proved otherwise. Bardock had lied. He had known… or hoped. Bardock and their king… Saiyajin no Ou… instead of him. Turles should have been pleased. So few low-class Saiyajin were permitted to serve the royal line so directly.

Serve… Bardock had not served the king!

Vejita Ou and Bardock… mated… bound together, never to be ripped apart.

Turles' brother-bond had weakened because of this… this atrocity of a mating! He could sense, faintly, the joy that Bardock felt. He could sense the satisfaction, and vaguely, like fingertips brushing against silk nearly out of reach, he could feel Vejita Ou opposite of that bond. The two were speaking through their thoughts, but the conversations did not echo in Turles' mind.

He wasn't good enough for Bardock.

Vejita Ou… instead of him.

Why was he surprised? Why was he hurting so much?

The scent of smoke from the dead flames hung in the air. Bardock bent his knees slightly, wrapping the cloak around himself like a child would do a blanket. A long sleek tail snuck out from beneath the cloth, curling around his waist, holding the robe as if it would be taken away.

Bardock slid his arm behind his head on the sofa and turned his eyes towards Turles. Their gaze connected briefly before Turles turned away, disgusted with himself… and with his brother. Didn't… didn't Bardock know? Bardock knew. It wasn't possible for him to not. They had been so close these last few years… though physically so far apart. How… why… when had the king and Bardock ever even exchanged words? When did Vejita Ou even learn that his brother was alive?

He was on the verge of rage. His blood was boiling, and ki rising. That was why Bardock had turned to him. "Turles, what's wrong?" Bardock's voice echoed throughout the sex-scented chamber. Without a word, he turned away and stormed out of the room. He could not dare to face Bardock… but there was another whom he longed to see.

In less than minutes he stood outside the doors. Dead guards lay in his wake, many of their bodies mutilated to calm his fury. Hands gripped golden handles, shoving the doors open. The walls seemed to watch with tears. Turles didn't care what punishment would follow his actions. Black eyes narrowed as his target was confirmed. Turles stepped into the room, narrowed eyes staring at the still figure that observed with him indifference from the throne.

Vejita Ou… perfectly content, perfectly perverted… doomed to die.

Riches surrounded them. He could smell the refinement. Wine filled the air. An empty wineglass rested between the king's fingers as black eyes met black. Vejita Ou was calm, but aware… somehow. He knew about Turles' lust. Turles didn't care how or why. Vejita Ou could hold the secrets of the universe, the meaning of life. He could offer to share the knowledge with Turles. None of it would prevent the king's demise. He wanted to taste flowing blood. He wanted to hold Vejita's pulsing heart in his ruthless grip.

If it cost him his life, he would see Vejita: Saiyajin no Ou dead.

"Bardock belongs to me," snarled the king.

Turles smirked. "You wouldn't die for him." He stepped forward in to the room, walking down the scarlet carpet that would soon be stained with the king's blood. "I can see it in your eyes. You are a mockery to all Saiyajin, claiming a mate solely… solely…" he couldn't find a reason. His head spun with all the possibilities. "Solely why, you bastard? Is he handsome in your eyes? Does he get you hard?" Turles gripped his own growing arousal in a crude motion of disrespect. Vejita's brows narrowed, but to Turles' surprise he did not attack. Turles smirked. Some Saiyajin! "Does he make you ache, his beauty? Is he a kinky little fucker, huh? Is he skilled in bed, you asshole? Does he ride you all night, or do you like to be fucked up the ass? What is it? Answer me!" No response was returned. Turles fists tightened. "Mates DIE for each other, Vejita-SAMA!" Sweat rolled down his face as he roared.

He was enraged, nervous, and pissed off. Vejita Ou was not worthy of Bardock. The king's death would drive Bardock to madness, but it was better than an unworthy bond. Power throbbed around him, covering every inch of his body, making him burn and ache. He needed violence. He needed a good fuck.

Vejita Ou merely offered a frown, not blinking, refusing to return the cold words. He was calm, unthreatened. His tail rested carelessly atop his thigh, completely motionless. The calm state enraged Turles. Vejita did not fear him, did not consider him as anything less than a nuisance - a temperamental child that had not gotten what he desired.

Vejita could sense Bardock's fear and panic through their merged thoughts. The younger Saiyajin was terrified that Turles would die. Bardock have never known of his brother's lust - love? Vejita doubted it. Bardock felt guilty, and through their bond he was begging for Vejita to have patience.

It was the only reason Turles still breathed, still spoke, still thought he had a chance. Vejita tuned out the words, watching only Turles' movements, prepared and tense, ready for any attack. He refused to move, to show any signs of returning or defending himself against any blow. Turles was on a razor's edge of sanity and control, and the slightest slip on Vejita's behalf could make him snap.

The Saiyajin no Ou didn't care what anyone thought, especially some low-class nobody, even if it was Bardock's brother. The Council could kiss his ass as far as the bloodline was concerned. Bardock was not officially Elite, but already he could take down half of Furiza's men without breaking a sweat. Most Saiyajin senshi would piss themselves at the mere idea. Power was no issue as far as the king was concerned. If people refused to accept the mating, then they would be ignored. If they objected, they would die.

Turles was objecting.

"Speechless in your terror?" Turles didn't know when to quit while he was ahead. Vejita concealed a chuckle at the thought of a headless Turles, corpse flaying. Would the mouth still move? His stare remained constant on the enraged threat, the king still sitting in his throne. If he called in guards a fight would begin, but Vejita suspected Turles had dealt with the guards prior to his intrusion. No Saiyajin, especially one so worthless could just barge into the palace. Bardock soared through the skies, approaching closer with each second. Vejita Ou pondered the situation with amusement. Turles' future, from this second forward, belonged to him. If Turles attacked, he would die. If he was stopped by Bardock, he could be thrown in the gallows.

"I won't let you destroy him!" The bellow went ignored.

Then there was the option Vejita loathed: mercy. Bardock would beg for mercy, threaten Vejita if he didn't bestow it, hate his king, his mate. Vejita sighed silently and blinked before scowling. He had to finish this before Bardock arrived. "He's my mate. Get over it."

Turles' eyes widened at the atrocity of the words before narrowing in hatred. It was all the encouragement the on-edge Saiyajin needed. Turles lunged at the royal figure in the throne, swinging madly, blinded by his rage. Vejita blocked each attack, a smirk planted on his lips. As soon as an opening presented itself, Vejita returned the blows with a single one of his own. Turles went soaring across the throne room, striking the far wall, leaving an imprint of his body for Vejita's memories.

Moonlight was the first thing Turles saw as his eyes slid open. Cool moonlight against his skin from the transparent glass ceiling above. During the day, the glass created rainbow-like illusions on the floor and walls, but during the night it made the moon even more beautiful. Stars met his gaze, darting across the heavens, leaving streaks of golden light in their paths. Were they really stars, or just ships darting through the heavens, leaving Vejitasei to create havoc in the universe? He remained still, watching in breathless anticipation. The Legend passed through his thoughts briefly as he pondered its purpose, its meaning. Vejita no Ouji was destined to achieve the legendary status, none other… especially him. Why did he bother? How could he defeat the father of such a being, and even if he did… there was still the son to face.

Kill them all off. Take the throne.

The thought was insanity in his mind at the moment - a bit of lucidity in the world of the mad. He chuckled at the idea, breathing in the scent of sweat and power. He unconsciously knew that Vejita had risen from his throne, and was approaching with every intention of killing him off. It enraged him… and yet at the same time allowed a small sense of peace.

It was said that every Saiyajin longed to be Death's lover. None really knew the meaning… until they lived it. Peace, after so many endless years of passionate battle. It wore down a man… a woman. They became tired, sluggish. No Saiyajin ever lived very long, and it wasn't because of their lifespan. A Saiyajin, if powerful enough, could live for hundreds of years. Captured Saiyajin have proven this fact, but so few made it past a single hundred. No Saiyajin wanted to live for so long. It was too hard, too much. Battle was powerful, but sometimes… sometimes it wasn't enough.

It wasn't enough for Turles - not anymore. He was so tired… of it all. Bardock didn't want him, he never had. Who cared anymore if he died? Turles was nothing now, merely a traitor, a laughing stock, someone who Vejita Ou would mock and warn his son about: insane Saiyajin misguided by false hopes. Don't be like them, my son. Never let your lust rule your mind, or you'll be killed and mocked throughout eternity. Your name will be shamed upon, and you'll end up as a bar room joke for horny, drunken, diseased, nine-eyed whores of Furiza and his men.

"Do it, you bastard," he snarled where he lay on the floor, eyes staring at the beautiful moon. When would it be full again? When was the last time he had transformed? He loved those days, when he was completely free, oozaru, taking orders from nothing but his rage and his stomach.

"VEJITA!" came a cry from the doorway. Turles lost all hope as he heard the voice. Bardock… of course he would come, stop this from happening. Turles slowly sat up, seeing his brother in the doorway, sweat running down his face, gasping for breath, a painful look in his beautiful black eyes. Turles bowed his head with a sigh, staring at his hands, wondering how quickly he could kill himself, and if Bardock was fast enough to stop him. Did he even want his brother to stop him? Turles didn't know. Black eyes rose up to the towering king who glared down at him, fingers glowing, prepared to end it… to let it end.

Death's lover… perhaps it had a different meaning.

"You are a traitor, Turles," Vejita Ou whispered, the golden light returning within his body. Turles raised his head, gritting his teeth, narrowing his eyes. He wouldn't… he couldn't go down without a fight, but that lust… that need to touch death was still deep within him. "Do it… do it! Do it!" he roared.

"Turles…" Bardock whispered, approaching, ready to defend him against Vejita. Bardock… loyal until the end, and loyal from that moment on. Perhaps that was the only way to keep them apart. Bardock would never forgive Vejita.

Vejita knew this.

"You are a traitor, Turles," Vejita snarled, stepping forward to Bardock's side. Turles saw the vague shadow of tails interlocking behind them. He snarled and climbed to his feet, but Bardock's glare caused him to pause. "By royal decree, I banish you, Turles."

Turles breath caught in his throat. Banishment? He needed death! Not banishment!

"You are never to return to Vejitasei. You will serve on Furiza's army, off planet, until your death. Only then, and only for Bardock, will you be allowed to return."

~~~~~~

Until death…

Turles smiled at the crowd, savoring the chant of his name.

Long live Turles: Saiyajin no Ou.

~*~

TBC!

Oozing Evil,

Jady Arewar