Part 1

"You are almost more attractive than I am," Bulma purred to the prince as he sat high and proud on his black stallion. "I have found none other that compares to you. Would you care to dismount and join me for a glass of wine? I will tell you the secrets of the world. Then I will allow you to taste my lips, and we can pass the rest of the day entertaining our desires."

She boldly reached her hand toward his. Hesitantly, the prince gathered her small hand in his and easily dismounted. He scowled at the goddess as she took the reins from him and led his horse to a nearby tree where she tethered him. She turned back around, her cheeks already flushed with desire. He blushed at her wantonness, but deep down, could not quench the ember that flared in his loins at her beauty.

She took a step toward him and reached out her hands to his chest. His hands automatically covered hers as she fell into his embrace, pulling him to the soft moss below. They reclined facing each other, resting on their sides. Bulma softly stroked his cheek and he scowled even deeper. He opened his mouth to offer a scathing remark, but she deftly stopped his words with her lips.

Even as his mouth opened to her prying tongue, the passion of her kiss was not returned. Hot tears trickled from her eyes and dropped to his cheeks, cooling the blush from them. She sighed deeply as she pulled away from his mouth, peering deeply into his eyes.

"You are immodest, goddess," he growled at her. "You restrain me from my hunt, you…"

Bulma finally pulled away from his lips, smiling wryly at the soft moan that escaped from the prince’s throat. She brushed kisses over his forehead, to his cheeks, then down to his chin. Vegeta’s eyes closed and his breath escaped in soft gasps as her frail arms held him. He willed himself to not submit her enchantment, to keep his hands from roaming over her porcelain skin.

Bulma’s delicate arms held Vegeta as a bird entangled in a net. His eyes darkened even more with the shame and awe he felt as she continued to kiss and fondle him. The obvious conflict between his desire and anger made her love him even more.

"I vow to you, dear prince Vegeta," she whispered as her tears continued to glisten on her cheeks. "I will keep you here in my arms until you agree to stay my tears. One kiss is all I ask."

The prince softened his scowl and peered back into Bulma’s deep blue eyes. He wiped his thumb across her cheek, carrying the remains of her sadness with it. He inclined his head toward hers, and she eagerly moved closer to his kiss.

Just as her eyes started to close, however, he turned his head from her, a cruel smirk taking the place of the scowl he wore earlier. Her desire for his kiss was as one dying of thirst in the middle of a desert.

"Such a cruel man," she cried. "I am only begging for a kiss; why are you being so coy? I have been courted, just as I court you now. Even Goku, the god of war, who conquers wherever he goes, has been my captive and my love slave. He begged me for what I’m freely offering you now."

Her soft hands caressed his face and chiseled chest, earning shivers of delight from the prince.

"He burned his lance and shield on my altars. He gave up warring and learned to dance, to smile, and to jest. He gave it all up for me." She paused her words to cover his face again in kisses.

"So, he that conquered was conquered by me. Though he was strong-tempered, his strength obeyed and he became Love’s servant. Oh, don’t be proud, dear prince, for becoming the master of her that foil’d the god of fight."

"Just touch my lips with yours. Though mine may be tainted by the kisses of past lovers, they are still red with desire for yours." She frowned as he cast his eyes away from her. "Why do you look away? Look in my eyes. And since our eyes are on each other’s, why not our lips as well? Are you ashamed to kiss me?"

She smiled at him when his cheeks again turned to pink. "Be as bold as you wish, Vegeta, we are deep in the forest far from human eyes. These trees that surround us can never gossip. Though you may be untouched, I do not believe you are untasted. Make use of this time; do not let the advantage slip away. Even the flowers will rot away if they are not gathered in their prime. If I were a wrinkled hag, or barren, or raspy-voiced, I would understand why you would not want me. But I am Love; I have no defects, so why do you resist me?"

Her cool hands soothed his burning cheeks and forehead. "There is not one wrinkle on my forehead, my eyes are as clear and blue as the ocean and as bright as the sky. My beauty grows with every new spring. My flesh is soft; my body is round and firm. My hands are smooth and soft. All I need do is bathe and my virtue is returned to me."

"Are you only in love with yourself?" Her once peaceful eyes flared with her own anger. "Torches are made to light, jewels to wear, dainties to taste, fresh beauty for the use. Seeds spring from seeds and beauty breeds beauty. You were created; it is your duty to create. You are bound to breed; it is a law of nature; that you will live on when you yourself are dead."

By this time it was mid-day and the shadow of the trees surrounding them had crept away. A light sheen of sweat covered Bulma’s face and arms. Krillin, the god of the sun, looked down on the pair and glared at Vegeta, wishing it were him in the goddess’ arms.

Scowling at her, Vegeta grumbled, "Enough! No more of love! The sun, so high in the sky, is burning my face. Let me go!"

"Ah me," Bulma sighed. "So young and so unkind. What a lame excuse you have given just to be gone. A simple sigh from me will bring a cooling wind. I can fan my hair to make a shade for you. If your cheeks still burn, my tears shall quench the fire. Why are you so stubborn? Have you not been born from a woman and can you not feel what it is to love? Can you not feel how tormenting it is to want love? What am I that you should hate me so? Would your lips be any worse off from my kiss?"

The prince only continued to cast daggers with his eyes.

"You are cold and senseless as stone, just a perfectly molded statue!" Bulma’s words chocked in her throat. Her chest heaved with impatience, her cheeks blazed red, and her eyes flashed the deepest blue.

She was in love, but could not find the words to plead her case to the prince. She openly wept as she still held him. Every time she attempted to speak, the tears and sobs overcame her. She shook her head, spilling her lovely blue-green hair back over her shoulders. She gazed at Vegeta through her hot tears. She laid her head on his chest, and still he struggled to break free. She simply locked her fingers one in one and held him tightly until her sobbing quieted.

"Since I have held you here, let’s pretend that I am a park, and you shall be my deer," she eventually offered. "Feed wherever you wish, on my mountains or in my dale. Graze on my lips, and if they are too dry for you, stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie. I’ll satisfy your every desire – sweet bottom-grass and high delightful plain, round rising hillocks."

At these words, Vegeta smirked deeply, showing two deep dimples.

Poor Bulma lost what remained of her wits at the sight of those deep caves in his cheeks. To love a cheek that smiles so at me in scorn! What shall I say?

"Your time is spent, goddess," Vegeta shouted, springing from her ivory arms. The sound of her sudden sob caused him to pause for the slightest moment, a sharp stab of pity for her almost settling in his heart. Shaking it off, he rushed to where his horse was tethered.

Through her tears, Bulma whispered to the wind, and a high-pitched whinny answered her. Show-white hoofed legs trotted past coal-black ones. As the goddess’ jennet passed the stallions withers, she lifted her tail to the side, letting the full musky scent of her estrus waft toward his flared nostrils. He tramped his legs and tossed his head in an attempt to reach her, bruising the earth with his hooves. He crushed the iron bit that was between his teeth, controlling what he was controlled with. The filly rushed ahead, shorting and neighing, flicking her tail to and fro.

Vegeta reached his horse, gently speaking to calm the animal. "Easy, easy," the prince spoke as the stallion’s ears pricked forward and he tossed his braided mane. "Stand, I say!"

The horse reared up, nostrils flared, drinking in the heady-scented air. His black eyes glistened like coal, his hot courage conflicting with high desire. All the animal saw was his love; nothing else, and this angered his master even more.

Vegeta had taken great pride in the stallion. One would never find so perfect a specimen, with his broad breast and buttock, lively eyes, strong legs, and thick mane and tail. Look, what a horse should have he did not lack, save a proud rider on so proud a back.

The steed neighed to the filly, and she whinnied in reply as if she knew his mind. As all females of all species are, she was proud to see him woo her. She put on an air of coyness, seeming to spurn his love and scorn the heat he felt, beating his kind nuzzling with her heels. The stallion stamped his hooves again, tossing his mane and tail. The filly appeared to feel sorry for her suitor, and slowed her assault on him.

Vegeta continued attempting to calm the horse, but his actions only startled the filly and she sped away. The stallion finally broke his bindings, and ignoring his master’s call, dashed after his love. The prince could only stare mutely as the two animals sped deeper into the forest. He took a couple of steps backward, cursing the heady beast under his breath. He whipped around to find himself staring lovesick Love in the eye. As she stepped closer to him, his brow furrowed even deeper. His black eyes smoldered, knowing it was her doing that had left him without a ride in the middle of nowhere. A low growl erupted from his throat as he sat down hard on the ground, leaning against an ancient oak.

The wind came from nowhere and everywhere, whipping her gown around her. Her long blue tresses waved around her ivory face. Lightning flashed in the sky behind her, outlining her perfect form to him. She came to where he sat and slowly knelt before him. One soft hand came to rest on his cheek.

O! What a war of looks was then between them; her eyes pleaded with his accusing stare. He could still see the love behind her gaze, and he did his best to reflect his hatred back toward her. The realization struck her that as willful as she was, he was just as unwilling, and her tears fell like rain.

"Oh, prince Vegeta, if only you were the immortal and I were a man," she cried, reaching for his hand. "Then your heart could feel my hurt."

A warm blush crept over the prince’s face once again. "Let go of my hand," he mumbled. "Why do you continue to hold it?"

"Give me your heart and I will let go," she offered back to him. "Oh, give me your heart before you steel it against me forever, hardening my own."

"Goddess," he growled at her. "Let go! I have missed the hunt, my horse is gone, and I suspect it is entirely your fault. All I care about now is how to get my charger away from your mare!"

"Your horse, fair prince, welcomed the warm approach of sweet desire," she countered between sobs. "The sea has bounds, but deep desire does not. It should not surprise you that your horse is gone. Excuse him, prince, and learn from him. Take advantage of his unbridled joy and learn to love."

"I do not know love," he snapped back at her. "Nor do I wish to know it. Perhaps if it were a boar, then I would chase it and know it!" His eyes sparkled at her, and he did not miss the look of hurt that flashed across her face. "I only know that love is a life in death that laughs and weeps, all in one breath, and I will have nothing to do with it!"

He moved his face to within a breath away from hers. "You are hurting my hand, goddess. Let me go. This theme is idle, as is the chat. You are wasting your efforts; my heart will not yield to yours. Remove your feigned tears and flattery, for I am not listening."

"Oh, such words you speak," she spat, recovering from his verbal assault. "I wish you had not, or that I were deaf, so I could simply love your beauty. Instead, you have taken what should be sweet music to my ears and cut deeply into my heart. Do you not know that if I were blind and deaf, I would love you just by touching you? And what if I could not see, hear, nor touch? I would still love you, based on the breath that carries your words. Even so, if I could only taste you, it would be enough to forever capture my heart."

"Feh!" he shouted to her. "I, a mere mortal of a man, do not love you! Were I gone from here, you would simply fall once more into your over-done maneuvers. The kiss I gave to you was given in vain. The more you implore of me, the more I dislike you. Mortals and gods may fall for your wanton words, but my ears are deaf to them. No, goddess, my heart does not need to groan for you. I do not hate you, but I hate your shrewd devices that you have used over and over again on other miserable strangers. Do not call it love, but by its true name, which is lust."

Bulma was speechless. She silently willed him to be quiet, but he continued.

"Shall I go on then? Love comforts like sunshine after rain, but lust’s effect is the storm that chases the sun. Love is a gentle spring breeze; lust is the winter blizzard. Love is not excessive; lust, like a glutton, cannot get enough. Love’s truth overshadows lust’s lies."

Vegeta paused to catch his breath, preparing for the final blow of words. "You, goddess, present yourself as Love, but in truth, your actions present you otherwise."

The slight pink that had covered her cheeks slowly faded. Her ivory skin grew more pale, and her breath came in shallow gasps. As if she were shot at point-blank, the meaning of his words struck her down as soon as they were uttered. Love – the goddess, the immortal – broke down and sobbed like a baby. When it was clear that she was overcome with grief, her perfect blue eyes rolled back into her head and she softly sank back onto the cool moss.

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