Trunks bathed in the river in the early morning while it was still freezing cold, but he wanted to leave the camp before he became even more confused than he already was. There were a few things he had been given; and interesting card deck and instructions on its use from the good ol' boys, Osamu and Touya, and a wooden flute from Marron, whom he had spent time with over meals and discussed music with. Trunks thrust these into his pockets and turned to where Goten slept with his baby niece. He pulled the blanket closely over them, stoking the fire so that it would hold out until what was officially morning.
Goten's face was very peaceful, and Trunks spent a moment memorizing his face and recalling the darkness of his eyes. Goten shifted as though he sensed it, and Trunks leaned over, whispering into his ear briefly. Goten settled down, and reluctantly Trunks turned to leave the tent.
He moved over to where his white horse stood, near the tent, munching on the grass. "How have you been, girl?" Trunks asked, finger-combing the mane as she had always liked. "We'll be taking another trip now, won't we." Trunks went and retrieved the falcon from its perch, whispering to it, "Go home." When he launched the bird into flight, it wheeled around in the sky and took off in the direction that Trunks knew the castle to be.
"Trunks-kun," came a voice.
Trunks turned quickly. "Lady Videl, you shouldn't be out in this cold."
"Is Pan with Goten?"
"Yes ma'am." Videl wrapped a blanket tighter about herself and came to stand in front of him, looking up into his face.
"You're a good boy, Trunks." She smiled at him. "You treat everyone respectfully, and that's an exceptional thing for someone of your background. I feel as though I would if I were losing Goten now."
"Goten will take good care of you," Trunks assured her. "And he loves his little niece dearly."
"I know I will never be able to repay you. You saved my life and very likely the life of my child with your gift of food, and now that she is born we will be able to find a way among the whole of us. And, in a less solid but equally substantial way, you saved Goten. He would be very bad off now if it weren't for whatever you did for him after my husband died."
It was too dark for Videl to see Trunks blush, and she continued without a beat, "Here. A small present. You can probably get better in the city..."
Trunks felt something thrust into his hands, and felt out its shape to discover that it was gloves. "I'll wear them until they are rags," Trunks said, pulling them on, grateful for them in the cold morning.
"Don't climb any mountains without them," Videl teased.
"I won't be climbing any mountains until I am climbing them with Goten beside me," Trunks told her softly, not caring if she knew the depth of their relationship or no. "As the first mountain I climbed was with him."
"You need to go, and see well to that sister of yours, as Goten has always seen well to me." Videl patted his horse gently and moved off into the haze of tents and early morning mist.

~~~~

Trunks pulled the hood of the cloak up over his head and moved off through the forest. He had been taught the paths like the hairs on his head, and set his horse off at a fair clip, coming upon the edge of the forest as the sun crested the high hills.
He was in the gate of the city by the time the sun no longer touched the far-off earth, moving through and attracting some odd looks for his fine mount and tattered cloak. There was much noise of people even now in the mornings, and Trunks found himself wishing once more for the quiet of the forest.
What was it that made me leave here in the first place? I would not miss the forest so greatly had I never seen it. Nor Goten. As Trunks thought back, all that came to mind was the image of Goten's smiling face, and a hand extended to him.
"There's a place, you know, for people like you!"
Goten, just because there is a place doesn't mean that I know it... and I start to doubt that I ever will.
Trunks moved close to the castle and remained unchallenged until he reached the courtyard and tried to enter the inner buildings. When he pulled aside his cloak and revealed his face, the guards gasped and scrambled to let him in.
Trunks headed first for the kitchen, and when he arrived he took fruit and turned to go out.
His mother sat at the table.
"I knew you would come," was what she said. "For your sister's sake."
"I am here. By your dictated terms, Bra is no longer required to marry the weasel."
"Weasel?" His mother raised a fine eyebrow. "I'll have you know that Prince Phillip comes from a very good family."
"And what is that to me?" Trunks asked, taking a bite of an apple. By the expression on his mother's face, Trunks could tell he had forgotten his place, but she let him know with her gaze and did not address it.
"I don't understand why you left, Trunks," his mother said. "I was so worried about you!"
"Mother, I am a grown man."
"You are nearly eighteen. I hardly call that grown."
"Well, it is, and there are people who support mothers and fathers and their own children at sixteen and such."
"Those people are not the soon-to-be king of this country," his mother informed him with an icy voice. Trunks made no reply, looking for an excuse to leave. "I heard you joined up with those dirty bandits that live in the forest. What shame you bring to our family!" Bulma's eyes narrowed on him, and Trunks shifted uncomfortably in place.
"I have done nothing that would put the reputation or honor of this family at stake, mother, rest assured. You taught me better than that."
"I was afraid, when you just left without a word, that you might have taken up with a loose woman, or done things..."
"I did nothing, mother!" Trunks insisted, fighting her former ice with his impatient fire.
"Watch your tongue," Bulma warned him. "Can a mother no longer be concerned for her son?"
"She may, but he must be allowed to be a man." Trunks used it as a non-offensive hint that she babied him.
"He must first behave as a man would behave, and stay to his responsibilities!" Bulma watched Trunks, who was unaware that his face had fallen in thought. "You have taken up with someone, haven't you."
"What?" Trunks' voice sharpened as he turned to go, tossing an apple core aside. "Mother, don't be ridiculous. I don't want the woman I've got, why would I bring more upon myself?"
"Whatever relationships you have formed, see that they have parted for good. I will not have my son become trash."
"Let me tell you something, mother," Trunks said as he spun back to her, "Those people I was with are kind and decent people, and they live more honestly and honorably than our family has in generations!"
Bulma slapped his face on one side, leaving his cheek burning. "And that for your unfilial conduct! I pray you never say such for your sister's ears. They are nothing, and you would do well to remember that."
"Enough of this, mother. I depart."
"You meet your bride at noon."
Trunks brought himself up short at the doorway, and then uttered a cry of disgust and stalked out. He climbed to the highest tower at a run to rid himself of his compulsive anger, and caught the falcon as it approached. The bird landed on his hand and his glove resisted tearing. "Good job, Lady Videl."
With the falcon in hand, Trunks climbed back down the stairs and came to Bra's rooms, hesitating to wake her. Bra flung her door open at last, in her robe, looking about to chew someone out. "Nii-chan!" she cried when she recognized him, and Trunks held the bird high to return her hug. It fluttered off toward its familiar perch, and he was able to use both hands to lift his sister and give her a hug.
"You were gone for so long!"
"How long was I gone?" Trunks inquired.
"A month and a fortnight; but you're home now!" Bra smiled up at him and pulled him into her room.
Trunks sank into her couch as she put her falcon in its cage. "I thought she flew away," Bra told him.
"I caught her. She fed me and many others for quite a while."
"Such a good girl!" Bra praised it, tipping treats into its cage.
"And now you won't have to marry a weasel, imouto-chan."
"I still have to marry," Bra said.
"Nan desu ka?"
"Mother said that you would come home, and then we would hold a ball. The one that I liked who attended would be my husband." Bra looked down into the plant she arranged as she said it.
Trunks grew angry. "Mother-!"
"Hush, O-nii-chan. I have my brother back." Bra looked up at him and smiled, and Trunks was quiet for her sake.
"Tell me about your time, brother," Bra said, seating herself with her head laying against his arm.
"Mother would not be happy."
"You smell strange." Bra turned and buried her face into his chest. "I'd say you were dirty, but you don't smell bad..."
"What do I smell of, then?" Trunks asked in amusement.
"You smell of plants and cookfire smoke. Don't take this the wrong way, but you smell like a man."
"Nani?" Trunks asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I didn't really think of it before, but father used to smell that way as well, like he didn't use the right soap. He smelled like a person, not a flowery soap. The people that pass me when I go to market reek of such. So. Tell me where you have been."
"Mother has already warned me to watch my mouth around you."
"The hell with mother," Bra said. "I think if you were happy where you were, she should have left you alone."
"I thought many times of coming and bringing you out with me," Trunks told her. "I played, and the work to survive was hard, but I was never so happy and so filled with a purpose. And when there was no work there were flowers and trees all around and the people were happy and loved who they chose." A lump crept into Trunks' throat, but Bra regarded him with wide eyes.
"Such a place must be paradise," Bra whispered. For Trunks, living his pain was worth the expression on her face. "Tell me more, please?" And Trunks told her the parts that could be told, and the parts that didn't hurt, and Bra curled up in his lap as she had when she was younger and listened to him.

~~~~

Trunks scheduled a large load of food to be taken to the forest as he had made word to his lover before leaving, and it was put in a place and watched. The scout came back and said that a young man carrying a baby had come upon it and brought people from the camp nearby to take it. Trunks had been careful about his placement.
Princess Antoinette had shoulder-length brown hair with a crimp, and hazel eyes that sparkled brightly with her almost constant laughter and blushing. She was, as Trunks came to discover, a silly air-brained woman from a line of silly women, in a country of silly women, from a world of them. Trunks had never been over-keen on women, as they were so different from him, but he had never had any chance to question his sexuality before he met Goten, and knew for a fact that he didn't dislike women. Still, this princess was a twit. A lovely twit.
Bulma grew quite confident with her choice when Trunks failed to try to kill Antoinette upon their first meeting. He spoke to her as little as possible, wondering if he could do so for another thirty years, which would be a healthy and very long life span.
When he saw her coming, Trunks ran for the document room, and buried himself into the histories of the country. If she saw him she followed but grew quickly bored of the large room of boring documentations of sales and other such things in the castle and the city.
Trunks found a document with the name "Goku" on it, and a map attached. He pulled all of the files that appeared to be related and put them in a box to take to his room, since the guards wanted to lock up. Trunks climbed the stairs and lay on his bed, trying to make sense of the odd legal language in the paper. Suddenly a knock sounded on his door.
"You may enter," Trunks called disinterestedly.
"Prince Trunks," Antoinette said, and giggled, probably at the prospect of being in a prince's room.
"Oh. Princess Antoinette. Hello." Trunks said. "Forgive me for not jumping to seat you; I am tired. There is a chair somewhere if you wish; you may find it."
"You are quite, ah," she giggled. "Informal."
"You shall get used to it, I suppose."
"Your mother suggested that I come. She thinks you and I should get to know each other better."
"Will we not have eternity to get to know each other?" Kings and Queens were buried side by side.
She giggled. "Well, if you are tired, this is perfect. I know I am not an impressive enough wife, but there is one thing I do well above all others of my kingdom."
"And that is?" Trunks asked.
Antoinette pulled a small harp from behind her back. "I play. Perhaps I could play for you. I used to play for the King my father when he couldn't sleep for troubles in his kingdom."
"You may feel free; though I doubt I will sleep for I am working."
Antoinette seated herself at a small chair near his bed and began to play. And it was true, what they said; her melody was beautiful, and unfamiliar to Trunks. He set the paper aside for a moment, and blinked.
"Prince Trunks?"
Okay, so this was a very long blink. Trunks opened his eyes. "I slept?"
"You were saying, 'Goten.' What is that?"
"Please leave me, Princess."
"You didn't like my playing?" Antoinette seemed upset, as Trunks rose to escort her to the door.
"I... Your playing is very lovely indeed, Princess. However, I am tired and will provide you poor company. I suppose I shall see you at next meal."
"I..." she ruined it by giggling. "I shall see you then, Prince Trunks." She curtsied and left his rooms.
Trunks sighed and sat back upon his bed, thinking of Goten again. He had tried to resist thoughts of him all the day, but when daytime hours eclipsed he was left with a cold feeling that seeped through the stones of the castle and into his heart and body as he pulled his blankets from his bed and wrapped himself up tightly to hoard warmth. But no matter how he tried the warmest thing about him was the tear that he wiped from his face.

~~~~

There was a man in Trunks' dreams that night, one that he could hardly recall by morning.
As a small child, Trunks had sat often outside the throne room and waited for the time when his father would leave to do whatever it was he did in the late day, be it working out, meditating, or simply eating and then going to sleep early. The guests came by and tipped their hats and curtsied if they recognized him, and simply smiled if they didn't.
There was one day, and he was one of the latter. He was kept waiting for longer than Trunks had ever seen a petitioner, even, stand waiting.
"O-kyaku-san, why do you come here?" Trunks asked, looking the man over in curiosity. He had dark eyes and hair.
"My family is in trouble. We wish to reconcile with King Vegeta." he had a kind face and he smiled at Trunks.
"My father doesn't make people wait so much."
"You are the prince?" He asked, surprised, and Trunks nodded. The man sat down by him. "I didn't think the prince would be such a handsome little man." Trunks had been proud and smiled. "I have a brother nearly your age. I bet you would be good friends. You seem like a nice boy." The man offered him a cookie. "I was saving this for my brother, but I can get more. It's from the kitchens."
"Wow, I'm not s'posta have these before dinner. Kaa-san says," Trunks said as he wolfed down the cookie.
"It'll be out secret," he said with a smile. "My name is Gohan-"
"Gohan!" Trunks sat up in his bed, wide awake, blanket twisted around him. The realization must have shocked his consciousness into working order, he thought with a chuckle.
He remembered that the guards had announced him with cold expressions, and he had come out a few minutes later, looking upset. Trunks had remained sitting by a suit of armor in the hallway, and as the next petitioner was announced, Gohan came past him. "Bye!" Trunks had piped.
Gohan had paused upon noticing him there again, and stopped. Magically, he came forth with another cookie for the boy. "You grow up and be a good strong boy, you hear? You're quite lucky to live here in the palace." Gohan had patted him on the head, and Trunks had endured it because the man had been nice.
"You!" His mother's voice had come up the hallway. "Who are you?"
Gohan had bowed respectfully and introduced himself as Son Gohan.
"I know of your like. Stay away from my son." Bulma had waited, guards coming to life behind her as Gohan smiled slightly at Trunks and left. Trunks had been unable to get his mother to explain why the man was 'bad.'
"Wait for your father," she instructed him. When his father had at last come out, Trunks had leapt up and caught at his hand, laughing as he trailed closely behind him and reached to tug at his fingers.
"Tou-san! You're out! What'll we do today? Meditate? We meditate on this day-"
"Leave me be, boy," his father had responded in a distracted voice. Trunks, hurt, had gone on his way but the next day waited as usual and was allowed to tag along with his father again.
"Wow," Trunks said to himself as he lit a candle and sat in its feeble glow. "That was really Gohan... then he knew who I was the whole time. Why was father so distracted the day that he came?" His musings got him nowhere, and after a while Trunks went hunting more candles and set up a station from which to read the papers he had rescued.
As he became more fluent with the old legal language, he was able to find the facts in the paper, and the map confirmed it all.
"Good holy saint Abraham, they took this land from the people... and built the castle on it!"
Trunks pulled through some of the other papers and found that the previous castle had been destroyed by the attacking armies that continually swarmed over the resource-rich soil. The castle had been built within six years preceding his own birth.
"So all those people that I met... their families lived here before, and the royal family took their land for this castle! No wonder Goku held a grudge!" Trunks wondered at the audacity of the nobles aloud to himself before he started to feel very foolish for talking to himself.
Trunks pulled out a paper and a quill, pulled his gloves on against the chill, and dipped the quill in the ink jar, swirling it around in thought. After a long hesitation, he phrased everything carefully in his mind for the proclamations he hoped to make without his mother knowing until too late, then put the quill to the parchment and wrote.

~~~~

Trunks was in the throne room one day with the Princess Antoinette, who had come to play for him more often as he said he liked her songs. This time his sister, who loved music, was there with the wooden flute that Marron had made and given to Trunks before he left the camp. Bra was delighted with the simple instrument, and since she had learned several simple songs on it, Trunks had given it to her. So when she heard how often Trunks' fiancee came to play for him, she came as well.
That was one good thing about Antoinette; she liked Bra. Trunks listened to the two and stared out the window.
Trunks sat on the throne or wandered as the need took him, feeling uncomfortable but sleepy until the guards came and announced an unknown visitor.
"Good day to you, Prince," came the voice. Trunks was looking out the window at the time, but Princesses Antoinette and Bra had stopped in their music and he still didn't turn.
"Princess Antoinette, imouto-chan, please leave me be briefly."
"As you will, Prince Trunks," Antoinette said with a small curtsy that he heard but did not see, and Bra hugged him from behind, saying, "I go falconing this afternoon and will not see you until after dinner, so you be good, Nii-chan."
"Of course, sister."
Trunks closed his eyes and listened as the silence stretched in the throne room.
"You look well, Trunks."
"Why did you come here, Goten?" Trunks knew his voice was weak, but he couldn't help it.
"I'm not sure. For one thing, duty called upon me to do so, but it didn't have to be me who came here."
"I assume then that my proclamation was delivered to you."
"You offered everyone in the camp homes within the city and formal apologies for the actions of the royal family. How could I not listen to that?" Goten was quiet for a long moment afterwards. Trunks didn't even turn to look at him, and his voice sounded so hollow. You were right. Maybe things will never be the same. "She's lovely, Trunks."
"I don't like her."
"You don't like your sister?"
"You meant my sister. I spoke of my arranged marriage. I do not like her. But I am pleased you think well on my sister. She is a great source of happiness for me."
"Sisters are that," Goten said. "And nieces," as an afterthought. But Trunks could hear pain in his voice. Arranged marriage...
"On behalf of the people I represent, we accept your apologies and your offer of homes."
"Good, my mother nearly took my head off over it."
Goten was silent, but footsteps drew very slowly closer.
"I am a poor prince. I recall a time that Gohan came here, and he was treated very badly. I don't understand why things are the way they are, only they are so. Do you understand?" Trunks' voice asked for acceptance of his words.
Goten hesitated. "What is this you say?"
"Goten...." Trunks took a deep breath that felt as though it would never be deep enough. "Our time is past. We both have lives to live, and they won't work together, no matter how we try. And besides that fact..."
"Yes?" Goten asked in a whisper. "Well, and spit it out."
"I don't love you, Goten. I can't."
Goten was more silent than silent should be. "I don't believe you," he said at last. "You don't even look at me."
Trunks turned and looked at him, knowing it was the biggest mistake. He was shocked into silence for a moment. Goten's clothes were nicer than he had seen the young man ever previously wear, but otherwise it was him, broad and dark and beautiful as he had ever been, and Trunks found it hard to look into his eyes and say "I don't love you."
"..." Goten was now silent, and his face went pale.
"You need to go," Trunks whispered.
"I don't believe you." Goten said this roughly, as though pushing past his shock and pain.
"It's true," Trunks insisted softly.
"You're lying." He drew close, walking up to Trunks where a whisper had the full impact of communication on every level. "We kissed. You touched me. I could see it in your eyes when we made love."
Trunks closed his eyes at that and dropped his chin.
"Dammit, I know you feel!" Goten reached out and caught his arm and pulled him close, almost touching. "Why is she making you say this?"
Goten was more clever than any gave him the credit for. He had known right away.
"When she heard what I'd done she told me that I had better move on quickly. If I don't she will make me regret it. Mother is good at that. So I will marry this sniveling, giggling princess and fantasize about you for the rest of my life."
"Why should anyone be forced to do so?" Goten asked.
"Why don't you believe me?"
"You told me that you would not forget me, even if you wanted to. And so you could not forget that you love me... or that I love you."
"Do you, Goten?"
"You'd better damn well believe I do." Goten's hand shifted around his. "I missed you like crazy, too."
"Don't do this to me, Goten...."
"I don't know how to or how not to."
"It's true. I love you and I always will. I'm sorry I had to say that I didn't. Accept that I love you, but I have a duty to my family. Now, go, please. You have a sister and a niece, and they need you as my family needs me."
"I won't leave you, ever. I won't leave you when you're so totally miserable." Goten reached a hand to his chin and pulled his face to meet his gaze. Neither of them could quite recall the other's eyes being so vivid.
"And I'm selfish as well; I need you."
Trunks acted on the impulse that came from his heart; he pulled Goten to him and kissed him, slowly, lips lingering against his before he slid his tongue into Goten's mouth, tasting him with great hunger, the intensity making his entire body ache as Goten melted into him, returning his kiss.
"I always knew you were weak."
Trunks broke from Goten, the dark-haired boy remaining behind him.
Bulma emerged from behind a draping curtain on one side of the chamber, looking regal and sharp as a sword.
"Mother. What are you speaking of?"
"You are like your father. He was weak. He lacked the strength of convictions. I once told one that I loved goodbye when I was to be wed to your father. And he wasn't loyal; like you he laid in a bed of dogs. Fortunately, he emerged without fleas through my efforts."
Goten was still close to Trunks, holding onto his hand, still standing where he had pressed against Trunks' chest for the kiss. Bulma approached them as she spoke, and suddenly reached out to seize Goten's chin in one hand, pulling him to where she could see him.
"You, boy... you look like that filthy father of yours."
Trunks could tell Goten was pressed not to say something in return.
"Mother, why do you hate them so much?"
"Hate them?" Bulma appeared surprised. She released Goten, nearly flinging him away. "They are nothing to me. But when your weak idiot of a father took one of them to his bed, a man no less.... This one's idiot useless father no less!" she did indeed look furious as she recalled.
Trunks blinked, mouth slightly agape as he looked at her.
"After everything I'd been forced to sacrifice, he chooses the lowest person on the earth, the dirtiest peasant that walked upon land and decided to fall in love!" Bulma's eyes were blue flame. She glared at Goten as if he were the source of her entire anger. "When I was to choose the site for the castle, I rid the city of him and his kind, but still his children continue to plague me! They corrupt my children with their pettiness, and all I wish is for them to disappear!"
"How.. you made everything look as though he had done it." Trunks' mind was totally blank.
"Of course! No one would pay attention to the Queen; I was the power behind your father. I forced him to do as I said; I played everything against him, including myself, peasants, these people, even you children. He would have brought us all down if he were allowed to do as he pleased. Their people came here time and again, nearly every year to make a reconciliation, but there was none to be made! They were gone, and that was my goal!"
Goten gathered his wits. "You made my family miserable! So many people have died because of you! That's not a good enough answer!"
"Even the order upon capture..." Trunks whispered.
"What?" Goten asked.
"The standing order for anyone of your group that was captured was on-the-spot execution." Trunks told him.
Goten was pale, and then flushed. "Even without that, what you did caused the death of my father, who was wronged, my mother who never hurt anyone ever, even my brother who lived his life in over his head." Trunks did not dispute the words and there they stood.
"If you are all that is left of your line, then I should just execute you and get it over with." The former mask of the cold ruler had slipped over her face once more.
"Touch him and I will kill you," Trunks said in his anger, though he knew he could never kill his mother, and she knew it.
"You would and could not. I understand that the only thing of this life that concerns you is your sister, but you still would not hurt me. As I have said, you are weak as was your father." The Queen Mother was unconcerned.
Trunks felt sick to his stomach.
"You, Trunks. You have always done as I told you, and it never hurt you a bit, did it? You were such a good boy growing up; perfect and polite, and you always listened to your mother. Your father wasn't a very good father to you; he feared growing attached to you because then I would use you against him. He loved his children and the last thing he wanted to do was see them hurt. Then one day the limit fell on him."
"What... what did you do?" Trunks asked, his voice so rough he didn't recognize it.
"It was nothing I did. He committed suicide himself, obtaining poison from an unknown apothcary and having it prepared in his food. He slipped away before any were aware. It was the most noble act he ever performed, an attempt to protect his children from manipulation. But he failed, for you are still in the palm of my hand, Trunks, and your unwitting association with the Sons has brought the last member of their hated line directly into my sights, and now he will die. I love you very much, my son, but if you resist you will also die. It cannot be helped."
With that three guards stepped out with spears, surrounding them.
"And what say you, my son?"
Trunks looked over at Goten. He looked a little frightened, but when he met Trunks' gaze, the other could tell that the fear wasn't for himself. Goten nodded for Trunks to do as he thought was right with no blame from him. Trunks looking into his unblinking dark eyes and turned back to his mother.
"I say; Go to hell."
"So be it then." Bulma looked at him sadly for a moment. "Kill them."
"Stop right there!"
Trunks started and turned toward the door, which had been flung open. To his amazement, the commanding feminine voice had come from his younger sister. "Bra-chan?"
"Stay alive and safe, daughter; leave the room."
"I heard every word you said!" Bra seethed as she stared at her mother. "I will not let this continue while there is life in me!"
There must have been a signal that Trunks missed, because the room was filled with guards that held their spears on the Queen Mother and the three guards at her disposal. Bra's group far outnumbered the other, and they were quickly disarmed.
"Come away from there, brother," Bra commanded without tearing her gaze from her mother.
Trunks paused, then came to his mother. He put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her on the cheek. "Goodbye, mother. I hope for your soul that you are not as evil a person as you have made yourself out to be in these past ten minutes." With that he stepped back, receiving no response from his mother. Trunks took Goten gently by the arm and led him from the room, pushing him out into the hall. For himself, he remained beside his sister.
"And what wouldst thou do now, Bra?"
Bra looked at her mother for another moment. "She drove father over the edge," Bra whispered. "There towards the end when you were sent on endless peace missions, he drifted further and further away, trapped in a cage of my mother's iron will." Tears made their way down her cheeks, and her small body trembled. "But I still love her."
"You always will," Trunks told her. "She is your mother."
Bra shuddered, long and drawn out with pain. "Kill them."
It was done before Trunks could blink, and the guards then came and kneeled at her feet and those of Trunks, hailing them.
The Captain of the guards rose and looked down at the young princess. "I heard everything as well; you did the right thing."
"Did I, Trunks?"
"Time will tell," he said at last, unable to look away from the bodies. "I must go."
"Must you?"
"I will be back. I promise, I'll always be your brother and I'll always be there when you need me. But for now, for me, I must go. And you shall be the queen and maybe some day marry who you choose." Trunks turned then and walked into the hall, unaware that tears fell down his face until Goten reached up and touched him, then took him by the hand in silence and led him from the castle out into the city, where he was taken to a house and put into a bed.
Videl was there, she took his blood-splattered clothing and Goten sat on the edge of his bed, looking into his eyes with love.
"The city is the city, and it does not belong to me. Tomorrow we head for the forest. I want you to come, and be with me, Trunks," Goten said, taking his hand.
At the moment, the idea was appealing; the place where he had found freedom in everything from the skies to the river. But for now, all the former prince wanted was to sleep....... sleep and forget.
Goten kissed him on the forehead and stayed close to him until he fell asleep. And then Goten crept from the room and wept bitterly outside the door; he wept for his family and friends and the innocent people, and he wept for his lover's shattered family and his own, and he wept that this world his niece would come into.
And at the end when he thought, Goten spared tears for the princess who had lost her childhood that day. The prince who had lost his background; his life. Even for himself, leaving the old ways behind, and starting over anew only to find that that which he had sought had been a hoax.
And when Videl came to find Goten, his head was buried into his hands, and his tears ran dry.

*~*~*~*~

OSHIMAI

This story felt long! And I didn't start out to make a psychotic Bulma. No one ever really thinks it of her over Vegeta, though, do they? Also, my religious references throughout the story were to interface the story with its time period, where the church was all, and not to impress any type of religious beliefs on a reader. You like my story, maybe? Q&C Welcome.