Alatrunks, Chapter #12

By Lord Truhan and Freewater

Summary: What happens when two reckless writers mix Disney’s Aladdin and Dragon Ball Z. ^_^

Author’s Notes: Chapter Title: And most of them lived happily ever after
Everything vibrated and the sound burrowed into his ears like insects, deafening him, hurting him. His brain, his body, nothing worked, he couldn’t tell up from down anymore and didn’t know if everything spun because of his dizziness, or the fact that the tower he was trapped in was actually spinning in the air, or a combination of both. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, Trunks had the vague sensation of the air freezing around him but the blanket of unconsciousness took him before he could think anymore.

Trunks shot up from the snow, he couldn’t breathe!

His chest constricted and his lungs worked to get some air, reminded of the horrible sensation of not being able to get at air when he needed it from his hurtle into the ocean, and not until he heard the wheezing sound he made did he realize that he was breathing. The air was too thin and cold for him to appreciate it.

The cold regenerated him. He had no desire to lay in the snow and rest. He got up, easing himself to use as little air as possible. Trunks took a step and realised that his feet were frozen, he couldn’t feel them.

That was right. Vegeta took his princely clothes from him, leaving him in the rags he started off with when all of this began. He didn’t even have shoes. He pinched his arms and everywhere on his body to determine what was numb and what wasn’t. Only his feet and part of his back and the back of his legs it seemed. The rest of him hurt.

At least that meant he wasn’t dead.

Something knocked him in the chest, sending him backwards on his ass, and he jumped up again to keep as much of his body out of the white stuff as possible. He looked down and smiled.

“Yajirabu.” The fat monkey mock saluted him before wrapping his arms around Trunks’ chest, trying to steal as much body heat as he could. They both shivered. There wasn’t much to share.

Trunks let him stay there anyway, then he looked up and sighed. Relief warmed him. Nimbus was there as well, he thought he saw the cloud join him before their unplanned flight but hadn’t dared to hope.

He strained his voice, a scratched whisper, like two rocks scraping against each other, came out. “Nimbus.”

The cloud seemed to be looking out the door, and it did not move to acknowledge him.

Trunks moved his legs. He had to rely on them to stay standing as he could feel nothing below his ankles, hugging Yajirabu close. “Nimbus,” He said again.

The cloud tilted a bit, and Trunks got the impression of someone glancing over their shoulder at him, before it turned to look outside again.

The cloud looked back out the door, and Trunks joined him to see what had him so transfixed. He had to kneel down since the door was not standing like it should, but only because the tower he was in seemed to be laying on its side.

He could see nothing. Like a sandstorm with snow, everything was being taken over by the wind, and he could see nothing. The yowling air moved away from the fallen tower, which was how he was protected from further cold, but the freezing temperatures still penetrated the room, and drifting snow along with it.

Trunks suddenly knew why he was still where he was. Nimbus hadn’t immediately taken him from the tower to return him to Truhania because of the storm.

Storm or not, they had to leave.

“I don’t know about you,” Trunks said, getting the attention of the cloud. “But Yajirabu and I will die if we stay here.”

Nimbus again did not move for some seconds before lowering himself so that Trunks might weakly climb on top of him. Knowing he was in for something even worse than what he showed up in, Trunks held Yajirabu tightly to him and curled up on the cloud to await the onslaught of snow and ice that would hit when he left the relative safety of the broken tower.

Nimbus stretched himself and wrapped half his body around his passengers like a pita, knowing it would not provide much protection but eager to do something more than simply leading them out, possibly to their deaths, and then flew out into the weather in the direction he thought Truhania was in.

***

It stormed outside. It always did since Vegeta took over. Gohan had never seen so much rain or thunder in his entire life as he had in four days.

“It’s always so hot,” Vegeta would say in between his attempts at seduction. “Cools the air, I think.”

Gohan tried not to make eye contact, tried to keep a low profile until he could find a way to free his father and get them out of the palace.

So far, he was failing on both counts.

Vegeta caught his fist when he’d thrown it at him, the strength in Gohan’s entire arm nothing compared to the magic flowing through Vegeta’s fingers. He had the nerve to laugh at him, yanking him close so that their noses touched.

“I love it when you fight me.”

The green man, genie, Piccolo when he learned his name, stood some ten feet behind his master, his arms folded and choosing to ignore the scene in front of him. Gohan had already tried asking for his help, and many times did he have to explain that he could give him none. Gohan would have to save himself.

Gohan brought his knee up, striking Vegeta in the ribs before pulling his fist back for the punch he’d been waiting to land.

Vegeta raised his hand. Gohan’s body froze. He commanded his legs and arms to move for him but they stayed in place like heavy rock. “What did you do to me?” He snarled, in control enough of his face to do at least that.

Vegeta tsked him, shook his head, and trailed his fingers down his cheek. It was too personal, too much like a lover, which was exactly what Gohan refused to be. “Don’t touch me.”

He did not remove his hand, but he did remove his spell. Gohan collapsed into Vegeta’s chest with the sudden release of his body. The man caught him and backed him into the wall. Gohan lifted his arms to push him away, but their confinement, even for that one minute, was enough to weaken his muscles.

Vegeta grabbed a handful of hair into his fist and yanked. “I’ll touch you however and whenever I please. I take no more orders from you, you little brat!”

Gohan felt the man’s breath against his neck. His throat hurt to swallow but he couldn’t ignore how much he hated the feel of it. “You constantly talk like my father and I were tyrants to you. We treated you like part of the family.”

“Ah yes, I remember. Dancing with that infatuated idiot at night, putting up with his own degree of sexual harassment. I think touching your cheek and standing a bit close is nothing compared to what I put up with.” Vegeta had his teeth bared and hands tightened around his arm and in his hair to the point of causing pain by the time he finished speaking.

Gohan winced. “You never said anything! If you didn’t like it you could’ve said something and he would’ve left you alone! He’s not a pervert like you!”

Vegeta grunted and released him, Gohan fell to his knees. “You would defend him. But you wouldn’t marry me to release him. Hypocritical of you, your highness.”

The title was an insult. Ever since Vegeta took over he’d taken to calling him, brat, insect, whore, and a variety of other untrue insults. Whenever Vegeta happened to call him by his proper title, it was only with the utmost sarcasm and disrespect.

He chose to ignore it. He just needed to buy some time, another day or two to figure out where he stood, to find out exactly where in the dungeons his father had been placed. It wasn’t hopeless yet. “I’m not a hypocrite!”

“Said by a true hypocrite. Look around you, brat, allow yourself to examine the fine clothes I allow you to wear, even while under my enslavement, and think of the hundreds of starving that could be fed had you chosen not to wear them.”

Gohan shook his head. Even if he chose to believe what Vegeta said, it wasn’t like he ever had a choice in how he dressed. “The people of Truhania aren’t starving.”

Vegeta raised his hand, calling Piccolo forth. The green man approached until he stood beside where Gohan knelt, facing his master.

“Slave, is it, or is it not true that your first master wished to be rich rather than poor?”

Piccolo nodded. “It is.” Then he looked down at Gohan. “But I was under the impression that he did so for love.”

Gohan shivered at the reminder of Alatrunks. Shivered for the reminder of how much he loved him, despite the lie, and out of fear as to whether or not he still lived.

“I did not ask you for your opinions, slave.” Vegeta hissed, turning his attention back to Gohan. “Is it true that you almost had your hand removed by a merchant for theft?”

There was no point in lying about it. “Yes.”

He barely finished the word before Vegeta cut in and knelt down so that their faces nearly touched. “A bit harsh for a man who has the money to afford such a loss, don’t you think?”

Gohan shook his head. “You can’t expect me to believe that you only want the throne for good!”

Again he was caressing his cheek, and again Gohan wanted to punch him, but he held his hands in check. “Of course not, you little fool. I could give a rat’s ass about the filth you left to rot down there while you enjoyed fine meals, jewels, and suitors every night. I just want you to see that the only difference between you and I is that I am capable of admitting that I am evil.”

When he kissed him Gohan did not have the strength to fight back.

***

Trunks returned to Truhania twenty-four hours after he left it. The problem was that by then he was so sick with frostbite and cold that he had to rest at his old house. Luckily for him though he was passed out through most of it otherwise he wouldn’t have wasted one minute in bed while that psychopath was off doing who knew what to Gohan and his father, forcing Piccolo into performing unspeakable acts.

Trunks took his first steps outside in three days, his body mostly healed, and stared down the street to the spot where the palace used to be. Empty now.

People were muttering to themselves even days after the event. Some packing their things to leave while others valiantly stayed close to their homes.

“Witchcraft.”

“Evil demons! That thing that plucked the palace from the earth.”

“They’re coming for us next.”

Trunks looked up towards the mountain next. The palace was still sitting there. The people were so transfixed on it that no one stopped him to question the golden cloud that hovered beside him as he walked.

He needed to know what was going on up there if he was going to sneak in. He needed some news of any kind.

A peasant down the way caught his attention, moving with his belongings tied to a camel and buggy behind him.

“Excuse me, sir!” Trunks ran for him, touched him on the shoulder, and when he turned Trunks stumbled back and fell.

“You!” They shouted at the same time.

Hercule. Of all the people to run into.

Trunks was frozen almost as if he was still on a snowy mountain, waiting for Hercule to grab and arrest him. Yajirabu jumped to his defence and hissed. All the man did was stare at him.

In fact, he wasn’t even wearing his robes that distinguished him as a palace guard, he really was dressed as a peasant.

Trunks rose to his feet and dusted himself off. They still stared uneasily at each other.

Trunks was the first to speak. “Why aren’t you at the palace?”

“There’s no need for palace guards now that a sorcerer lives there.”

Trunks clenched both fists. The answer, completely devoid of any emotion nearly killed him. “Then you know what’s going on. Why aren’t you and your men storming those walls? Trying to get Gohan and the sultan out?”

“Don’t you think we’ve already tried that! Idiot street rat! Half my men, including myself were still in the palace when that thing lifted it into the sky. We attacked Vegeta with everything we had before he threw us out, like we were nothing but ants to him! I rallied my men again, we took everything that could be considered a weapon and tried to take the palace back, but again we were sent away. Half my men are now dead. There’s nothing that can be done.”

Trunks blinked and let his shock take him. The sight of Hercule’s angry red face as he recalled his defeat was something Trunks never thought he would see up close.

Despite the man’s crooked behaviour, he truly was loyal to the royal family. Trunks knew in that instant that no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, he would never get into the palace without help.

“There is something that can be done.” He said, hoping he wouldn’t regret letting the man in on his secret.

“Nonsense.” Hercule scoffed, then proceeded to walk off.

Trunks never thought he would be the one to chase after Hercule. “It’s true! That green man who took the palace, he wasn’t a demon or a monster, he was a genie!”

Hercule abruptly stopped and looked at him, one brow lifted.

Trunks swallowed. “I was Prince Ali, the one you nearly threw into the ocean.” He said with a touch of bitterness, watching Hercule’s eyes widen slightly at the revelation. “It was how I managed to be a prince and escape that day.”

“Tell me more.”

***

Vegeta had Goku brought up from the dungeons and tied to a post, where Oolong proceeded to slap him with switches and throw rocks at him when he didn’t dance in his tiny leather outfit as instructed, dangling the key to his chains in front of his face to tease him. Goku lifted himself up to strangle the shape-shifting pig, but he jumped out of the area that the chains could reach.

Oolong’s picked up a fist-sized and threw it. It made contact with Goku’s temple and drew some blood. Gohan could take no more. “Stop it! Leave him alone!” He moved two steps in his father’s direction but the chains on his feet connected to the throne prevented any further movement.

Vegeta raised his hand, signalling his pet to stop the attack. “Agree to marry me and not only will this barbaric behaviour cease, but I’ll even allow him to leave the palace. He can go wherever he wishes so long as he does not return here.”

Gohan looked at his father and back at Vegeta. He lowered his head and opened his mouth to agree.

“Don’t do it.”

His eyes snapped up. Goku stared at him with a strength in his eyes that was no longer in his body. “I’m not that weak that you need to give in after only a few days. Don’t marry him Gohan, if you do then he wins.”

Gohan sucked in a harsh breath and fought the burning in his eyes before he nodded. He spoke without looking at his captor. “I will not accept your offer Vegeta.”

The chains attached to his arms were yanked, and Gohan found himself facing the bared teeth of an angry Vegeta, who was no longer stroking the cooker on the arm of the throne in amusement. “You’re trying my patience you little brat!”

His hand closed on Gohan’s throat, cutting off his air. He grabbed his fingers to pry them away but Vegeta refused to be moved.

“Vegeta stop it! He can’t breathe!” Goku screamed, pulling against his chains.

“Marry me and you may have your air.” Vegeta hissed.

Gohan gasped, sounds like a hiccupping frog leaving his throat as his lungs constricted in his chest. “You can’t–force me–to marry–you.” He wheezed.

He didn’t think Vegeta could scowl any deeper when the lines suddenly vanished and the hand released him.

Gohan dropped to the floor and sucked in a coughing breath, the burning in his face leaving now that some oxygen could reach his head.

He looked up, Vegeta smiled as though someone presented him with the universe itself. “I think that I can force you to marry me.”

Gohan kept rubbing his throat.” What?”

Vegeta shot himself up from his chair. “I am such a fool! Slave!” He called.

Piccolo, who had been standing off to the side, walked forward with no speed or enthusiasm. “Yes, master?”

Vegeta’s grin was lecherous. He looked over his shoulder at Gohan while he spoke his wish. “I wish for you to make the prince fall in love with me.”

Gohan shook his head. “No.” He looked at Piccolo. “Please, don’t do that to me!”

Piccolo tried not to look back into his begging eyes as he addressed his master.

Gohan looked away. He couldn’t listen to them, didn’t want to hear his father yelling at Vegeta while he arranged for Gohan’s enslavement.

And he thought his father was pushy in trying to get him to marry. At least he was giving him a pick of suitors.

Shaking his head, Gohan caught sight of something purple out of the corner of his eye. He looked up, across the throne room stood Trunks, hiding behind a pillar.

Love and relief flooded him like warm water. His lips turned up in a wide smile, his eyes shone, and a happiness he hadn’t felt since Trunks was sent away, made him float.

Their eyes met. Trunks’ chest rose and fell heavily, also with apparent relief before he began to frantically wave his arms around. Gohan understood right away. Don’t look too happy in that general direction. He could end up giving away the fact that Trunks was there.

He could’ve kicked himself. Stupid, stupid! What was he thinking?

Trunks pointed towards the throne, and Gohan looked and saw the cooker, then looked back at Trunks, reading his perfect lips.

“Grab the cooker.” He was saying.

Gohan lifted his hands, gently to not rattle chains, but enough so that Trunks could see them and know he couldn’t reach it.

“I’m sorry.” Gohan mouthed.

Trunks nodded, understanding, then pointed to Vegeta. Gohan knew what Trunks wanted him to do before his mouth could form the words.

*Distract him.*

Gohan looked at both Genie and man, for the first time seeing them arguing.

“I’m telling you it can’t be done! If it was in my power I would but I can’t!”

“You said any wish! I wish for this!” Vegeta screamed, drops of spit flying out of his mouth.

Gohan didn’t need to think too hard about his plan.

He dropped his eye lids, stood up from the floor with a slight tilt in his hip, and smiled a lusty smile he’d only seen when he walked in on two servants in the middle of loving one another. He prayed that his plan worked.

“Vegeta,” He called.

The man turned to face him, almost in slow motion, then smirked at the look on Gohan’s face.

Piccolo’s jaw dropped, and while Gohan did his best to keep his eyes only on Vegeta he was aware of his father’s agonizing whisper.

“No, no, Gohan.”

Gohan forced himself to ignore it as Vegeta pat Piccolo on the shoulder. “That’s more like it.”

Gohan forced his body not to cringe against his will when Vegeta approached. The man touched his cheek and for the first time in a long time Gohan didn’t jerk his head away. He looked in the man’s eyes, tried to picture all the wonderful moments he had with Trunks, and let those emotions come through.

“Gohan, don’t look at him! He’s the bad guy! Remember?”

Gohan grabbed Vegeta’s robes and positioned him so that he was blocking his view of his father. Vegeta smirked at the act, and so did Gohan, because what Vegeta didn’t know was that by doing so he made Vegeta face away from the rice cooker.

He dared not look behind Vegeta, but out of his peripheral vision he saw Trunks stalking closer, silently set out to reach the thing that could set them all free.

Vegeta’s eyes lowered to his lips, and with a shock Gohan knew what he was going to do. The test. To see if he was truly in love with the man in front of him. As Trunks slinked closer Gohan knew that if he had to do it he could. He would do it.

Trunks lost his footing. He stepped on a small rock and it made his foot skate across the marble floor, the rock under his sole scratching the surface, making a sound like a shrieking bird.

Vegeta turned to see what the matter was. Gohan grabbed his ears and pulled his face towards his, squeezing his eyes shut when their lips met to pretend he was kissing anyone other than the man in front of him.

Goku wailed at the sight.

Gohan sighed when the distraction worked and Vegeta relaxed, then inwardly had a screaming fit when Vegeta pulled him closer and coaxed his mouth open.

‘Trunks had better be moving to that rice cooker, I swear he’d better.’ Gohan thought, forcing his body not to tense up.

Vegeta broke the kiss himself, then stared into Gohan’s eyes, pleased with the act.

The glint in his eyes sparked a panic inside Gohan’s chest, and the hand tightening around his arm confirmed it.

“That was by far, the worst display of acting I have ever seen.” Vegeta’s arm flew out behind him and blasted Trunks in the chest with a powerful red light that sent him flying across the throne room before he could reach his hand out and touch the cooker.

“No!” Gohan tried to run to him but Vegeta’s strength, and the chains, held him back. Gohan’s fist soared on its own, smashing into Vegeta’s jaw and sending a blinding pain through one of Gohan’s knuckles.

Vegeta’s laughed at Gohan’s cry of pain. “You can’t hurt me! I’m indestructible!” His own arm struck out, backhanding Gohan with such a force that the chain connecting him to the throne shattered and sent him across the hall much the same way he’d done to Trunks.

Gohan’s head smacked into the back of the wall. He fell limply into Trunks’ arms. Trunks shook him, trying to wake him, but he lay there with his eyes shut.

“Gohan? Gohan, wake up.”

Goku ran towards his son and knelt down with them to inspect the damage.

Vegeta stepped back at the sight. “How did you escape?”

He looked and saw Oolong tide to the same pole where the sultan had been, Piccolo stood over the little shape-shifter and stared unapologetically at his master.

“You released him!” Vegeta accused.

Piccolo shook his head. “No, I just didn’t tell you that he *had* been released.”

The knowledge that Trunks was not the only intruder in the room sucked the air from Vegeta’s lungs. He spun around in time to point his finger at Hercule, whose hand hovered directly over the cooker.

“Stay.” Vegeta commanded.

Hercule’s body shrank, his arms drew into themselves and brown hair grew out from every pore in his body. He opened his mouth to yell and insult but all the came out was an indignant bark.

Vegeta laughed at his creation, and Trunks watched in horror as Hercule’s clothes became so large that he shrank inside them, and all that came out was a frightened puppy.

He handed Gohan to his father and made a run towards Vegeta.

“How many times do I have to teach you a lesson?” Vegeta shrieked, throwing his arm out and blasting him again. The power sent Trunks skidding to the floor ten feet from the prince and sultan. “You never learn!”

Trunks looked up at him and grinned. “Actually, I do.”

Vegeta spun again in time to watch Yajirabu run away with the cooker. “No.”

Piccolo smiled, hardly able to believe what he was seeing. “Run, monkey, run.” He muttered.

Vegeta raised his staff and sent a burst of red magic at him. Yajirabu jumped, the magic missing him, but while in the air Vegeta worked his magic again and got him a second time, turning him into a fat plushy monkey.

Nimbus flew in and took the cooker from the animal before Vegeta could summon it to him and zoomed for Trunks.

“You’re all really starting to get on my nerves!” Vegeta yelled, and a giant vacuum cleaner appeared in the air directly in front of the racing cloud. Nimbus attempted to turn and fly in the other direction but he was caught in the suction and disappeared into the vacuum bag.

The cooker fell to the floor and Trunks dived for it, his arm stretched out to take the cooker before a wall of swords rained from the ceiling and spiked a barrier in the floor. Trunks crashed into them, breaking a hole into the makeshift wall. The cooker sat right in front of his eyes, but as he reached his hand out to take it Vegeta snapped it up first.

“I should keep you alive, boy. You are more fun to have around than the sultan, at least you dance when you’re told to.” He sneered.

Trunks glared up at him. “You call that dancing? At least I wasn’t flailing my arms around like some kind of confused monkey.”

Vegeta’s eyes flashed. “A monkey, am I?”

Heat whirled around him, and Trunks raised his head and saw that the swords were all on fire. He moved away from flames before they could do more than lick at his skin.

When he looked up again Vegeta’s eyes were yellow, his face lengthened and animal-like whisker protruded from the side of his nose.

“I’ll show you a monkey!” He opened his mouth, tilted his head back, and released an animalistic roar that echoed and shook the palace walls. The sound awoke Gohan who had to cover his ears, and Goku crouched over his son to protect him while doing the same to his own earlobes.

The sound momentarily disoriented Trunks, and when he released his ears Vegeta was already leaning down to grab him. He jumped out of the way of the fist, but on the second strike Vegeta had him, lifting him into the air and squeezing with just enough pressure for Trunks to feel his bones grinding together.

Trunks clenched his teeth but proof of his pain still escaped in a powerful cry.

Piccolo stepped forward. “Master, may I suggest—”

Vegeta kicked him away. “You stay out of this. He’ll have no defence for defying me!”

Gohan launched himself to his feet and ran forward. He grabbed the hair on Vegeta’s legs and pulled to get his attention. “Vegeta, stop it! I’ll marry you!”

“You’ll marry me regardless you little brat!” Vegeta’s foot went out and kicked Gohan the same as he’d done to Piccolo. Piccolo flew out and caught him before he could be smashed into another wall.

Vegeta resumed his torture, wrapping both hands around his prisoner this time for good measure. “You thought you defeat me? The most powerful being on earth! You are nothing, you little street rat! And even with the genie you remain nothing!”

A moment of coherent thought latched onto Trunks’ brain when he said that, and through the pain Trunks opened his eyes and looked down over Vegeta’s monkey knuckles to see where Piccolo stood, still protecting Gohan from anything else that might attack him.

Like window shutters being opened, an idea flew inside his head like the breeze.

“I’m a worthless street rat, but at least I can admit it, unlike you!” He screamed.

Vegeta’s hands squeezed in anger. “What!”

Trunks had to overcome the feeling of having his body crushed. “You’re only powerful because he made you like that! If we’d have gotten a hold of the cooker, you be nothing! Worse than nothing! You would be a peasant like me! No money, no influence and no power!”

“I am the most powerful being on earth!” Vegata said, repeating his earlier words.

Trunks shook his head. “No you’re not.” Then he nodded down at Piccolo. “He is.”

Piccolo gasped and took a step back.

Vegeta gasped and released Trunks, who fell limply to the floor after being unable to catch himself because of the torture inflicted on him.

Gohan ran to him, but Piccolo stayed where he was, not so much as blinking. “What have you done? Why did you bring me into this?”

Vegeta’s giant hand slammed down between Piccolo and the two humans. “Never mind them! I have my third wish for you to grant!”

Piccolo clenched his fists and glared at his former master before facing his new one. “More power?”

“No! I wish to be an all powerful genie!”

“What have you done?” Gohan asked.

“Trust me.” Trunks whispered.

Piccolo shook his head, but not in denial of the wish. “If I thought you were stupid before, it’s nothing compared to what I think of you now.” He said, facing Trunks before lifting his index finger and pointing it at the giant ape.

Glowing green light shot out, Vegeta stood taller and allowed the magic of the wish to hit him in the chest, sighing pleasurably as it disappeared inside his body, the physical change already happening as he shrunk to his normal size and into a red faced version of his human self. He opened his eyes and smiled, they were pitch black.

“Yesss, I can feel the absolute *power!*” The ceiling broke open with his delightful cry. The sun, moon, and stars appeared in the grey sky at the same time and swirled around at his command, creating a light show of the kind Gohan had never seen before.

The wind picked up, like a tornado entered the room, Trunks wrapped his arm around Gohan and grabbed the nearest thing to prevent themselves from being blown away. He looked up and saw that it was Piccolo’s leg.

“This will work!” He yelled.

“You had better be right!” Piccolo screamed back.

“The universe is mine! It’s *mine!*”

Trunks lifted himself onto his elbows when he felt the wind slow enough. “You’re almost right!”

Vegeta looked away from his lightshow to stare at him. “Hn?”

A black rice cooker materialized from specks of nothingness in Trunks’ hand. “Maybe the universe will belong to your master if he wishes for it!”

Golden cuffs appeared and clamped loudly around Vegeta’s wrists. “What!” He dug his fingers into them, trying to pry them off but they held firm, then he held his claws out to Trunks and Gohan. “You tricked me!”

Piccolo stepped in the way before he could make it to them.

“Get out of my way, slave!”

Piccolo’s lips quirked. “I’m not your servant anymore.”

Vegeta’s eyes popped, and when he felt the pull of the cooker calling him inside he turned and jumped in the air. Piccolo reached out and grabbed him before he could fly away and held him in place.

Vegeta clawed, screamed, and spit, his face becoming less and less human as he was sucked into his new prison like grains of sand being tugged by the breeze. “No! No!”

Piccolo dropped his prisoner when there was not enough of him to hang onto, and the three of them watched as he disappeared into the cooker.

Trunks felt it get heavier as he held it, but the silence that followed after everything that happened weighed the most.

He exhaled, the small noise of even that penetrating the huge room. He turned his eyes up to look at Piccolo. They both smiled.

“You are by far the most intelligent master I’ve ever had.” Piccolo said, taking the lamp.

“Is he gone?”

“Father!” Gohan got up and ran to him, hugging him. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

Trunks stood awkwardly, and when the ill dressed sultan approached him, instead of bowing at the waist, like a near equal would do, he got to his knees, like a peasant was expected to do.

“Your majesty,” He began, not daring to even look at his feet lest his humiliation show. He was reminded suddenly that everything wrong with the palace, with the undignified way in which the sultan was dressed and how he was treated, was entirely due to Trunks’ lies and greed. “I’m so—”

Strong hands latched around his arms and forcefully lifted him to his still wobbly feet. Trunks expected the face to be angry, Goku smiled and clapped in on the back. “You don’t kneel for me.”

Goku took a step back and bowed slightly at the waist.

Trunks’ mouth dropped, a sound came out but he couldn’t make words. He looked to Gohan for some explanation, but instead of being helpful he too smiled and bowed like his father had done. Piccolo followed suit.

Trunks felt like he would explode. Too many things swirled inside of him and the scene before him was not helping.

He touched Goku’s shoulder. “Please, your majesty, don’t.”

Goku stood taller, as did Gohan and Piccolo, but he still smiled.

Before Trunks’ eyes Vegeta’s magic disappeared. The skimpy leather outfit the sultan had been reduced to wearing transformed into his proper royal robes, the sky outside cleared, Hercule returned to normal, Yajirabu turned back into a grouchy, fat monkey, and the vacuum cleaner disappeared, leaving only a confused Nimbus in its wake.

“Wow.” Gohan rushed to the window. “We’re back in Truhania!”

Goku went to look himself. Trunks, Hercule, Piccolo and everyone else followed. Trunks sighed when he looked outside and saw the city under a blue sky.

Then his cheer faded. Gohan stood in front of him, still looking out the window and completely oblivious to when Trunks turned around and left the crowd. He saw Piccolo’s cooker and picked it up in his other hand. He could barely believe that one housed his best friend, while the other one, the black one, housed a maniac.

“Trunks?”

Trunks pulled himself from his musings at Gohan’s call. Everyone stared at him. Trunks awkwardly cleared his throat and approached the sultan, handing him the black rice cooker. “You should have this, to keep it locked away somewhere, I wouldn’t be able to keep it safe.”

Goku took it from his hands and tucked it under his arm. “We’ll need to rebuild that tower, a lot of cement will be coming in and I’m sure there’ll be some to spare.”

Trunks nodded, then took another step back.

Gohan tensed, sensing that he was trying to distance himself. He reached out and grabbed Trunks’ free hand.

“What about us?”

Trunks looked down, wet his lips, then extracted his hand from Gohan’s. “I’m not a prince, your highness, it was wrong of me to trick you.”

Gohan shook his head, ready to deny it, but Trunks spoke first, looking up at him, Gohan saw the shine in his eyes. “I’m sorry to have caused you any unnecessary pain.”

Piccolo cleared his throat, grabbing their attention. “You do still have one wish left. If your desire is to be a prince then I’ll make you a prince.”

Gohan turned to Trunks, a new hope in his eyes, but it fell away when he saw that Trunks did not look nearly as happy as the news should have left him.

“That’s very kind of you, Piccolo,” He said, “I’m just going to discuss it with prince Gohan.”

Piccolo nodded, folding his arms and trying to look uncaring as Trunks took Gohan’s arm and walked with him to the other side of the throne room for some small amount of privacy.

Gohan stopped them as soon as he thought they were far enough away. Anger and fear spilled into his voice that he turned into a harsh whisper. “What is the matter with you? And what’s with all this prince Gohan garbage? You don’t need to call me that.”

Trunks stared at him and touched his cheek, his eyes large and sad. Gohan hated how he looked at him like he planned on never seeing him again. “What happened here, these last few days, is all my fault. I promised him his freedom, and I got scared, I thought I couldn’t be a prince without him so I didn’t give it to him, and then Vegeta got to him.”

Gohan inhaled deeply despite the building ache in his chest and the burning that started in his own eyes. “What are you saying? That you can’t make the wish to be a prince?”

Trunks nodded. “I know he just said I could, but I still promised him, and if there are other people like Vegeta out there who will use him to do horrible things like this …”

Gohan nodded, he reached out and took Trunks’ hand, tightening his grip when he tried to pull away. “I understand.”

Trunks’ eyes went wide. He yanked Gohan to his body to kiss him, trying to say his goodbye without words. Gohan reached his hands up to thread his fingers through Trunks’ hair and hold tightly around his neck.

They tasted salt from tears, neither knew which of them cried, then clung to each other after the kiss had ended.

Trunks held to Gohan tightly and kissed his forehead, cheeks, and mouth. “I love you, I’ll always love you.”

Trunks could see that it was Gohan who cried until he reached his hand up to wipe tears from Trunks’ face, then he knew that it was the both of them. “I love you too.”

They held each other again for a moment before drying their eyes and walking back towards the crowd, hand in hand.

“Celebrating?” Piccolo asked, not a sneer in his voice.

Trunks should have figured. From the distance it probably did look like they kissed out of happiness rather than regret.

He didn’t want to waste anymore time or give himself the chance to change his mind. “I wish for your freedom, Piccolo.”

Piccolo raised his hand to grant the wish, then stopped. “What did you say?”

Trunks handed Piccolo the cooker. “You’re free.”

Just as his green fingers touched the object did it disintegrate into ten million tiny sand-like pieces, pouring through his fingers and forming a pile on the floor. Piccolo took in a shaky breath and knelt down to inspect the small dune of sand. When one claw from his hand touched it, the golden cuffs at his wrists popped off, clanged to the floor, and turned into the same sand.

Piccolo inspected his wrists, touching the bare spots where the cuffs used to be, then looked up at his former master from where he still knelt.

Trunks tightened his hand around Gohan’s for strength. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t free you when I said I would.”

Piccolo stood up, standing taller than him, he didn’t make any move towards him, but his voice held all the emotion. “You are forgiven.” Then he offered Trunks his hand, smiling, Trunks took it and they shook hands like equals.

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t give you your heart’s desire, kid.”

“It’s alright, Piccolo.”

Goku, furiously scratching the back of his head, piped in. “So, when’s the wedding?”

All heads turned towards the sultan.

“Father, Ali, I mean, Trunks here isn’t a prince.” Gohan said in case his father happened to miss that part. Trunks bowed his head shamefully at having pretended he ever was.

Scratching his chin now, Goku grinned. “Well, *I* for one thought I was sultan, and if I say that my son can have his choice in a spouse, then he can choose.”

Neither Gohan nor Trunks moved, both sets of hearts pounding in case it should be a royal joke. Trunks clenched Gohan’s hand tightly in his until they began to sweat, when Goku didn’t take back his order and continued to grin, Trunks looked into Gohan’s eyes.

“You’ll still have me?”

Gohan tackled him to the floor. “I picked you the day I met you!”

“A commoner, sire?” Hercule whispered, nervous of ever having to take orders from the street urchin he used to chase down for theft.

Piccolo growled at him, and Hercule flinched away. “This is no commoner.” He said, pointing to where Trunks and Gohan embraced on the floor.

Goku waved his finger at him. “He’s right, Hercule. You’d better get used to it, because this is the new addition to our family.”

Hercule groaned and slunk off, leaving the lovers to celebrate with the happy father.

***

Trunks walked into the garden, Piccolo sat by the fountain, soaking his feet, his face turned up into the sky to enjoy the sunlight.

Slipping off the best pair of shoes he’d ever owned, Trunks sat next to him and put his own feet in the water, though he was sure this wasn’t what the fountain was for. “Enjoying your vacation?”

“Immensely.” Piccolo popped open one eye to stare at him. “Where’s your prince? I thought the two of you were inseparable.”

Trunks laughed. “We are, but I’m taking a break while he goes out into town. He’s really taken to visiting Truhania on a daily basis.”

Piccolo grunted and went back to sun soaking.

Trunks smiled at him. Ever since control had been retaken and the truth about Truhania revealed, the royal family was no longer shy about leaving the safety of the palace walls. Shelters were being built for the homeless, more food being delivered into the city, and more jobs created, even the old school was being rebuilt. Trunks couldn’t have been happier, he knew he certainly would have enjoyed having those things while he was out on the street, now other people who will need them can benefit.

Still, there was one thing that was on his mind, and he couldn’t help but worry that Piccolo wouldn’t be around forever. “What do you plan to do?”

Piccolo sighed and opened his eyes. “Truthfully, I don’t know. My entire life was spent in that cooker, I’ve always wanted to see the outside, travel the world, and now that I’m out it’s like I’m afraid to go anywhere.”

Trunks shifted. “Gohan’s taken a liking to you. You know you always have a home here.”

Piccolo smirked at him.

Trunks felt the heat rising into his face. “And I would want you here too.”

“Thanks kid, but there still are a few things that need to be done here, I’d like to help until I’m of no more use before I take off.”

Trunks smiled, before he could say anything he saw Gohan enter the garden. His grin broadened and he stood up. “I’m just glad you’re going to stay a little longer.”

Piccolo waved him off. “Go and have fun with your husband and leave me be.”

Trunks grinned and ran off. He met Gohan at the entrance and kissed him tenderly before taking his hand and going inside the palace together. “Father decided we did enough work for today.” Gohan said.

Piccolo shook his head when they were gone. “Kids.”

***

Goku drank from his wine glass and popped a grape into his mouth, shifting until he was comfortable from the couch where he lay, then hardened his eyes. “You know my wish. Dance.”

Vegeta adjusted his see through skirt and veil, the magic of the genie forcing him to move even when he didn’t want to. “This is highly degrading.” He muttered.

Goku grinned and ate more fruit. “And you’re going to have to do it every night, because there’s no way I’m ever going to use my other two wishes.”

Vegeta sighed and sank into his fate. Dancing for the sultan like a common whore for the rest of his life.

“God damnit.”

The End

2 Responses to “Alatrunks, Chapter #12”

1. Trynia Merin August 17th, 2008 at 7:40 pm

   Terrific end to the fairy tale. Especially Vegeta’s fate. I chuckled at the notion of Nimbus folding around Alatrunks and Yajirubu ‘like a pita’ and it works. Your descriptions are really good, and add to the story’s charm. Gohan’s bravery from his timidness in previous chapters really translates well from what we know of his character in DBZ. Nicely done.

2. Daisy Girl August 24th, 2008 at 12:20 am

   ROFL… That little addition with Vegeta at the end had me in a giggling fit. I’m sure it doesn’t help that it’s after 2 AM, BUT, that part was HIGHLY amusing. The story was sweet. I’m glad you finished this. I honestly don’t know if I COULD pick a favorite between “Alatrunks,” “The Little Mermaid,” or “Beauty and the Beast.” You’ve turned all three of them into remarkable parodies for everyone’s Truhan amusement. Thank you for sharing your writings with us. I can’t wait to see if you plan on doing anymore Disney parodies, which one you plan on doing. If I could ask for a request, I think it’s have to be “Anastasia.” Haha… Anyways, I’ll be looking forward to what you have in store for the future.

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