Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Tempt of Fate ❯ Goodbye to You ( Chapter 13 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
Tsuyoku: Wow. It’s been, what, a year since I’ve updated this fic? As I was writing the date today, still writing 2012 occasionally, I realized how long it’s been and what’s changed since. I had a very difficult time writing this chapter… not difficult in plot. In the past year, I’ve bought a house, graduated from university, and had a baby—a baby who’s currently sick and likes to spend most of their time sleeping on my chest, making it hard to hand-write or type. But I digress. Pleas accept my apologies for the lengthy wait. Here’s chapter thirteen. As suggested before, I see only one or two more chapters after this before we wrap everything up!


Tempt of Fate Chapter 13

“Lady Bulma!” Lynna yelled as she finally caught up to the two guys.

“Someone took her. I can smell it.” Trunks said.

“Can you tell who it was?”

“No, but she didn’t walk out of this room. She had to be unconscious; otherwise the place would be a mess.

Bulma hadn’t felt the dizzy sensation of waking up in a strange place since she was killed by Atrono and revived in the sanctuary on Vegeta-sei. Bright and blurred, the sun fell over Bulma’s eyes making them flutter open for the first time since she was attacked. Of all the places one could imagine finding themselves in after being kidnapped, this certainly wasn’t high on her list: where Bulma was used to the palace walls and floors made of cold, unforgiving stone, this room was paneled in a warm wood with a floor to match.

She lifted a hand, shaking and unsure, to shield her eyes from the sun as she looked around. At least my arms aren’t shackled, though that’s a surprise, Bulma thought. The soreness in her body and the metallic taste in her mouth were a reminder that she hadn’t been brought there willingly. She remembered hitting the floor, inhaling whatever it was that her captor placed over her mouth. The Queen stayed fairly still and used the silence all around her to think back. Whoever had taken her had put her to sleep before she was able to see if Trunks heard his name called. Bulma was quite sure he did—he heard pretty much everything else—but even though the yell had not been a cry for help, she hoped that the three took it as such when they no doubt came running to investigate.

The room was quite small with a little cot that served as her resting place across the room from an end-table seemingly misplaced between two decent-sized windows. With the bright light bouncing around, it almost reminded Bulma of the modest bedrooms in her family home before she was sent off to more posh living arrangements. It had been so long since she’d even thought about that chapter in her life almost as if she was playing memories in her head that belonged to a stranger.

She had to remind herself that she wasn’t in a safe-haven like her parents’ house might be. Bulma felt her heart beating quickly, panicking for her. The thump was strong, pumping blood against her ribcage and echoing within her ears like a painful headache. Her heart only increased its actions as she found footing on the wood floor beneath her. Once she’d settled most of her weight on the ball of her foot, she rose from the bed and was well aware of the mind-numbing screech the bed springs let out.

In a fit of more panic, she leapt to the window and looked out at her fate, knowing someone would have heard the bed springs. But she couldn’t tell where she was, not from the few trees and harsh landscaping that were changing colors by the moment as the sun sank.

“Dusk, already?” she asked. “How long was I out?”

Bulma meant the question to be answered with silence, but the adrenaline brought on by a deep voice multiplied ten-fold, and the usually brave and headstrong Queen found it hard to turn around to meet that face.

“You were out for quite a while, couple of hours at least. I was beginning to wondering if chloroforming you did some damage.”

“Vellutini,” she spun around. “What the hell do you think you are doing kidnapping me? You’re finished after this. You’ll be lucky if there’s anything left of you to bring charges against once Vegeta finds you.”

“I figured you would hide behind your new lover. But you should know that I don’t feel threatened. I’ll be untouchable once I take control of the throne. I’m just here to collect what you found.”
“I have no idea what you’re—”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Bulma,” Vellutini said as he cut her off. “My patience with you is completely out, and your lying does nothing to help it. I want to know what you did with the documents you found in the desk.”

How the hell would he know about those? I wasn’t wrong, was I? It didn’t look like he’d successfully opened the drawer.

“I’ve been spying on Atrono in his office for years. It’s called a security camera… the latest technology.”

“Sarcasm becomes you, Vellutini.”

“If you must flatter me, do it while hanging over the capsule you put them in. You might just make it out of here unscathed.”

“What makes you think I would give them to you? Those papers are safer with me—the only reason you want them is to conceal the truth.” For the moment he said nothing. “I know you have some sort of plan for yourself, and you know those documents could easily break them.”

Vellutini remained contemplative for a moment, fierce eyes staring at her in warning. “I believe you’ve done enough concealing for the both of us since you’re returned with King Vegeta. You dare judge me for keeping secrets?”

“Let’s not make this about me,” she said smugly, knowing that she had him in a corner. “In fact, I’m willing to bet that you don’t actually know the secret hidden in those letters, do you? You have no idea who the rightful heir to his throne is, but you know that it isn’t Trunks, and that just doesn’t work for you.”

“Not that it really matters,” he replied. “As long as the rest of the world doesn’t know, everything still works out. Trunks will stay behind in the end to rule this planet how I see fit. He’s still young enough to be swayed… as long as you’re no longer in the picture.”

“I’m not leaving my son behind. And I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure the next time you set foot in the palace, it’s with the label of a traitor. After all these years, you’ve solely had your head up Atrono’s ass, and you’ve missed an important detail about Trunks. He takes after his father, but not the man you’ve been trying to control all these years. He’s not going to be “swayed” as easily as you want to put it.”

Vellutini reached across the space between them and grabbed her by the throat, gripping firmly and intensely, staring into her eyes and smirking as she began to struggle.

Bulma tried to paw at his hands with both of hers, digging her nails into his rough skin like daggers at her disposal. For a split second, she mused on how tired she was of being kidnapped, shot, choked, and all around mistreated. She was the queen of this planet, yet she probably got less respect than a homeless man wandering the streets.

This was getting old.


His name on her last breath was no more than a whisper and much less threatening than she had intended.

The man slightly loosened his grip just in case she was ready to talk. Not to mention he didn’t want her unconscious for this. One foot after the other, Vellutini walked her backward until the back of her legs hit the bed. The he took his hand back.

Without the hold on her neck to keep her steady, Bulma fell back in the bed, gasping in relief as the pressure decreased and sweet breath filled her body once more.

“Let me tell you something, Queen. You’ve lost your favor within the palace. As I’ve said before, the servants know you’re nothing but a whore who latches onto whatever king is within reach. And every politician within this realm no longer takes you seriously without Atrono around. I’d be surprise to find that you have any type of pull to label me as a traitor. I certainly don’t think you do.

“Now,” he continued. “Where are those documents?”

Bulma just felt the urge to spit in his face, but she didn’t figure she was in the position to do so. He was likely to slap her or choke her again, something she wanted to avoid. What mattered now was getting out of Vellutini’s grasp—wherever he had her—and finally getting to the bottom of this business with Atrono’s rightful heir. She wasn’t going to give in, not when her family’s happiness was on the line.

“I didn’t find them in your room when I took you, though with that son of yours on the way, I didn’t have much time to look.” He dipped his head next to her ear close enough that the spit of his breath hit the curve of her cheek as he punctuated each of his next words with a disgusting, lecherous tone.

“Or perhaps, likewise, you didn’t have time enough to hide that little capsule. Perhaps it’s somewhere on you right now.” Bulma caught a glimpse of a sadistic curiosity in his eyes, and she suddenly didn’t feel as courageous as she had before.

She suddenly raised her hands to push him off of her, not liking where this was going at all. But the advisor’s hands grasped her wrists and forced them to her sides as his head bent to inhale deeply with his nose pressed flush to her chest.

“Stop it! Do you really think I’m foolish enough to hide them on me?” Bulma tried… it was worth a shot, but she could tell he wasn’t buying it for a second. In all her conflicts with Vellutini, she never imagined it would come down to this. As much as she was confident she could handle most of the things life could throw her way, she couldn’t help that little voice in the back of her mind screaming for Vegeta or anyone to come help her in a moment of pure defenselessness. If he kept going—and she sincerely hoped he wouldn’t—he was going to find the capsule hidden in her bra.

But with the way it was going, it didn’t seem like he would. She’d seen that animalistic look in men’s eyes before.

“Now, my Queen, why don’t I believe you?”

Relentless hands sought the modest collar of her dress, grabbing the fabric and lifting her upper half off the bed momentarily while he put his nose to her forehead and took a deep breath. He inhaled her scent slowly from hairline to the curve of her jaw, and the entire time the blue-haired woman, usually so strong and defiant, was left speechless and shaking.

But she composed herself enough to lean her head back only to slam it forward with all the strength her sore neck could manage. She opened her eyes to face the suddenly red lip before her, and Vellutini was less than happy.

One hand released her clothing to backhand her across the face while the other continued to fist in the fabric and slam her body back onto the bed.

“You’d better understand the situation you’re in; you only have yourself to blame. And I could do this all day because we have all the time in the world now without anyone to interrupt us… The capsule is somewhere on you, my sweet¸ and I intent to search every last inch of you,” with this, Vellutini cupped a hand between her legs, “until I’m satisfied.”

Bulma immediately began to thrash and her female instincts kicked in as he made it clear what would happen should she not turn the documents over to him. She threw her legs out, trying to land a kick on him and punched her hands in the air sporadically in an attempt to hit his face again.

She screamed. It was loud, possibly louder than when she yelled for Trunks, but as the sound was cut off by Vellutini’s hand, her lungs felt the hurt. Too bad the air in the room was stale and thick, unlike the crisp, oxygen she’d enjoyed earlier that day.

Briefly, Bulma wondered if she was going to experience such clean air again—or would the air in that room and the stench of the breath escaping that man’s mouth fill her lungs in her last moments?

Vellutini pulled at her clothes, and she wasn’t sure if he was still searching for the capsule or intent on getting something else. His rough fingers gripped the top of her bodice for the second time, tugging like never before and ripping the cloth as if it were tissue. As he tugged down the layers covering her bare chest, bra included, she began to feel the thick air on her exposed skin and realized that the capsule would easily be discovered if her continued.

Bulma’s hands tried to rise to her chest, both to cover her skin and make sure the capsule wasn’t going to fall. It was too late, though, because the small trinket fell out, stopped at their connected stomachs, and rolled gently onto the bed. She panicked for a moment and felt her face heat up, and Vellutini jerked as if to grab the small object. But he was only readjusting to get a better angle at her neck.

She pretended to fight back and grabbed the documents’ container, slipping it into her mouth and swallowing. It was difficult to swallow, but she managed to at least get it into her throat and feel the muscles inside her force it down.

A hard hand grabbed her chin. “What did you just swallow?”

Bulma just smiled at him and waited for the inevitable slap across her face that came only moments later. “Spit it out!” Vellutini’s passion quickly dissipated into anger as if someone had simply flicked a switch within him. “Spit out the damn capsule!”

He slapped her again, forcing her head to the side. After all his abuse, the stinging sensation wasn’t as effective as he’d hope for. She was beginning to become numb to his advances, numb to the pain he so desperately wanted to feel. “Like I said,” she started to say with a hoarse throat and shaking voice, “you’re not getting them. You’ll find out Atrono’s secret when I reveal them to the public.”

“You can’t tell anyone if you never leave. And there are ways of getting that capsule out.” With his words, Vellutini stood up, and Bulma cringed at the screeching the bed made with his movements. He straightened his robes and walked out the door.

Bulma continued to lie on the bed, feeling the lump in her throat steadily and slowly make its way down, the loss of the advisor’s warmth on her body becoming a welcomed chill. She wasn’t sure how she was going to get out of that place—or even where she was for that matter—but she didn’t want to know what he meant by “ways to get the capsule out.” And sticking around to find out was not an option.

She had to make sure that everyone knew the truth, even if it was the last thing she did. Marco deserved to know.


“Where the hell is Vegeta?” Lynna screamed for the fifth time in a few short minutes. “Why isn’t he here? Does he even know that, at this moment, Bulma might be hurt or worse?” The younger servant girl worried her lower lip. If something was to happen to Bulma, the Dragonballs were not long an option to bring her back. They disappeared, and she wasn’t sure when—or if—they’d ever return again.

“Lynna, calm down,” Marco said. He approached her and put an arm around her shoulders as if it was the most natural action in the world.

Lynna cupped the hand on her shoulder with her own and squeezed. Knowing that Marco was on their side was a relief and a welcome comfort. She didn’t want to think about what Bulma was going through right at that moment, and she rued the fact that they hadn’t been there to save her queen from whoever took her.

Trunks interrupted them with a clearing of this throat. “I think we all know who’s behind this, whether either of you want to admit it.”

Lynna frowned. Trunks had read her thoughts precisely, and the fact that they were all thinking the same thing—that Vellutini was the one who took her—she was even more worried for her lady.

“I know what you’re saying, your majesty, but would Vellutini really go to such—” Marco caught himself at that thought. He knew all too well that the man was less than innocent when it came to the things he desired. “But he should know what hurting Bulma would do to his reputation. And even if it didn’t tarnish it, this kind of situation might cause disagreements between the alliance and our kingdom. I agree that he has the most to gain by the queen’s demise, but it’s just hard to believe that he would do something so… stupid.”

“Why the hell are you defending him?” Lynna asked, shunning his arm for the moment.

“I’m not, Lynna. But you have to admit that this is certainly a bold move for him to make.” He momentarily searched his mind for an explanation, if any. “The Queen screamed for you Trunks. It makes me wonder if she hadn’t stumbled upon something that Vellutini didn’t want her to know… or share.”

Lynna silently agreed. She relaxed her shoulders once more and stood dejected next to Marco. For all they knew, Bulma could have been silenced forever by now.

“Well, I don’t care about any of his reasons. We’re wasting time,” Trunks said. “We’re going to have to track where she was taken, and when we find her, Vellutini won’t live to regret his fatal decision.”


Now that Bulma was alone, the trick was going to be getting out of there. She sat up and felt her heart pounding in her chest and face, making the sting of his slaps amplify three-fold. It worsened when she shifted and the bed once again ground out a sad sound, metal against metal. She had to compliment whoever thought of putting that bed in there. If you were holding someone captive, the best way to know their movements in the room was to provide the squeakiest bed know to man.

She was sure that she’d heard the door’s lock engage when he left, but it never hurt to try the easiest and direct path out first thing. She crept toward the sole door, grasping the knob that was surprisingly warm to the touch and tried to turn it, jerking the door toward her at the same time. But it was no use. With that option down, the next obvious choice was, of course, the window.

Easier said than done.

She slowly approached one of the windows and took a detailed glance outside; she hadn’t had time to study what was outside when Vellutini interrupted her earlier. Gulping violently, which only made the capsule feel even larger in her throat, she realized the height. Two stories as far as she could tell, but enough that the thought of climbing or jumping out make her quite uneasy. Bulma would challenge any untrained person to consider escaping though a window that high without developing sweaty palms and a sudden fear of heights.

She would have attempted to just open the window, but Vellutini had already taken precaution to nail the windows shut. Smart man—she’d give him that. Her nails tugged hopelessly at one of the blunt nail heads, but it was stuck fast, a sword in stone that she wasn’t going to be able to release.

Ear to glass, she could make out another wing of the building to the right with a stone edifice and windows similar to hers. It was obvious that this was a house rather than a public building.

“He wouldn’t have brought me to his house, would he?” she asked herself in a whisper. Seemed like a stupid idea, as anyone who figured out it was him who took her would probably look at his own properties to find her first. Either way, this was going to be a bit of a challenge. Not only was she on a second story, but there was a pane of glass in her way—and only one way through it.

The crash of glass shattering was louder than she thought it might be, but at this point there wasn’t much time to think about the noise level. Instantly she knocked out the rest of the large pieces with the leg of the small end table that used to rest between the windows. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough of an opening that she could escape without impaling herself on a sharp point. And there wasn’t much time to plan; Vellutini was certain to have heard her escape attempt and come running.

She perched a leg on the sill, feeling the lingering piece of glass pierce her skin. By the end of this adventure, Bulma was sure she was going to have quite a few scars on her body, memories she probably didn’t want around. Slipping out, she realized there was absolutely not footing for her to step on outside the window, but she flung her other leg out the window despite the safety hazard. Just as she was about to edge forward and lower herself down, the door unlatched and opened. Vellutini looked enraged, even worse than he had when she’d swallowed the capsule, and went to grab at her hands and forearms that still rested on the sill.

“You’re not going to get away from me this time, you stupid girl.”

She tried to wring her right arm from his intense grasp while her left arm lifted to push against the side of his face. She had her body braced just perfectly to give him a large push and cause his head to slam on the side of the window. Part of the glass remained, and she could only imagine the pin-prick feeling of pain on his cheek when it impacted, he instantly let go of her arm to grasp at his own injured face and fell back.

It was effective at freeing her, but just like before, when he loosened his grip, she lost her balance and fell.

This wasn’t good.

She felt her hands scrap the edge of the remaining glass, he face hitting the stone for a split second as gravity overtook her. The next thing she knew, she was free falling.


“When he said track, I didn’t think he was talking about something like this…” Lynna said. She was watching Trunks literally stand in the middle of the hallway sniffing the air and focusing on something they couldn’t see. His eyes were closed and he turned his head as he listened to the movements of the air around him, and Lynna found it fascinating that he had this sort of power, that he was more like his father than she’d ever bothered to realize. It had always been obvious that he wasn’t Atrono’s son. But no one ever took the time to get to know him and see the truth.

It was good that his tactics were working because the prince looked quite ridiculous and animalistic doing it, and she would hate for such ridiculous behavior turn up nothing.

“I still don’t know much about Saiyans, but I’m certainly not going to question Prince Trunks if he knows what he’s doing,” Marco said as they slowly trailed the boy.

They’d made it from Bulma’s suite on one end of the castle to the other side where luxurious bedrooms and boardrooms were thinning out to the kitchens and servants’ quarters.

“You seriously think that Vellutini would have kidnapped Bulma and taken her somewhere in the castle? Seems a little foolish if you ask me.” She’d never liked the older man. He always seemed so ignorant and too dumb to be helping anyone with the workings of a kingdom.

“Take it from me, Lynna. I’ve seen Vellutini in action, and he’s not as stupid as everyone thinks he is. I know I wouldn’t take him lightly after seeing his aggressiveness. Why do you think King Atrono kept him on for all these years?”

“Besides,” Trunks continued, “the trail of her scent and ki signature is growing stale and seems to continue past the edges of the palace. I’m thinking he took her somewhere off grounds.”

“I think it’s about time we found King Vegeta. He just may be the only person who could find her now.”


TYK: I always say this—but it’s always true—I’m already working on the next chapter. Now let’s see if I can get it written and typed up! I didn’t get as much plot into this chapter as I wanted, but my time doesn’t really belong to me anymore!!! R&R guys!