The Birth of a Prince

Vegeta stared in horror at Bulma whose face was contorted in agony as a fierce contraction rent through her.
”What do you mean it’s time?”

”Damn it Vegeta, the baby is ready to be born! Get off your tail and get me to the hospital!!” Her normally shrill voice had reached new heights as she staggered towards the air car where four year old Trunks was already waiting. Vegeta shook his head to clear it. His son was ready to be born! He was going to be a father…again!

Later, at the hospital Vegeta stood by the end of the bed arms crossed, and watched, face impassive as the doctor and nurse scurried about, doing this and that preparing for the delivery. It was all new to Vegeta, he had been absent for Trunk’s birth and only at Bulma’s insistence was he here for this one.

”Mrs. Briefs, you are fully dilated and almost ready to push,” said the soothing voice of the nurse. She was a calm one Vegeta noted. She seemed to know exactly what to do to make the alternately groaning and screaming woman to relax. The doctor on the other hand seemed nervous, twitching and actually falling after accidentally bumping into Vegeta. It didn’t occur to Vegeta that his silent presence was unnerving the young doctor. He watched Bulma intently for a moment….Kami she was beautiful. Although he would never admit it, he was glad she had insisted he be here. He could feel his son’s strong ki seeming to grow ever nearer with each contraction. A hoarse, guttural scream pierced the air….different, much different from the groans and cursing he had gotten used to during the course of her labor. Great Kami, he thought. How long can she keep that scream up?

”Something’s wrong, something’s wrong,” she screamed grasping desperately for his hand. “Vegeta! Something’s wrong!”

Yes, he could see that, as he held her hand worriedly. He could see her massive pregnant belly writhing as she screamed. And then, as suddenly as it had started, the screaming was over. He placed a gentle hand on his mate’s stomach and felt the strong response of his tiny son, so close to being born. The nurse calmly moved his hand to press her own fingertips firmly low on Bulma’s abdomen.

”Doctor,” her voice reveling the barest trace of concern. “Doctor, the baby has turned.’

”What does that mean?” Great Kami, was that his voice?

The nurse regarded him steadily. “It means that your son has decided to make things difficult. Instead of coming out head first, it looks like he will be coming out tail first.” She glanced at the doctor who looked stunned, and then continued. “I have never seen a baby turn this late in labor. His head should have been engaged in the pelvis, making it impossible.”

”Will you have to cut him out?” Vegeta asked, silently hoping his voice wasn’t trembling.

The nurse looked back at the doctor who was still in a state of frozen shock. She sighed.
”no, I don’t think so. She has already delivered a baby vaginally, ne?” Bulma groaned again as another contraction wracked her body.

‘

”yes, I have, Trunks.”

”And the baby is strong, not in distress…heartbeat is steady, we should be able to deliver him breech without much of a problem.”

She left Bulma’s side to converse with the doctor in low urgent tones as Vegeta, not knowing what else to do returned his hand to its former place on Bulma’s stomach. He clenched involuntarily as another contraction hit home and Bulma screamed, cursing him fluently as she tried to crush his hand. He almost smiled. She had refused any pain medication, insisting that she could bear the sons of Vegeta without drugs.

”Bulma,” the nurse’s soothing voice interrupted his thoughts. “Bulma, it’s time for you to push now.”

Bulma nodded, and with the next contraction, she bore down with all her might, forcing her muscles to push the soon-to-be-born demi-Saiyjin closer to the world. The doctor sat at the end of the bed, presumably waiting to catch. Vegeta snorted, the man looked ridiculous.

”Push Bulma, PUSH,” shouted the nurse. “C’mon, work for that baby! Breathe, and push again!”

The doctor finally spoke. “Ah, here comes the little man.” He glanced at Vegeta. “Would you like to see, Otousan?” Vegeta scowled at the man calling him Otousan, but moved down to the end of the bed where he could see a growing circle of pink making it’s way out of Bulma’s body. He could feel her push again, with a fresh contraction, and suddenly, his son’s backside was nearly out of the birth canal. The tip of his own tail twitched excitedly from its place curled around his waist as his tiny son’s wet velvet tail came into view. He smiled, and the doctor, seeing the tiny tail twitch and reach out, passed out cold on the floor.

The rest of the baby was coming faster now as Bulma’s labor ground to a close. Not knowing what else to do, and not sure if the nurse had even noticed the doctor fainting he shoved the man out of the way with his foot as he pulled off his white training gloves. He reached out a hand and took hold of the little body gently, supporting it as Bulma pushed again. His son’s tail wrapped itself firmly around his wrist and Vegeta smiled.

”Nurse,” he said quietly. She looked at him. “The doctor has passed out. Could you call my son into the room please?” His voice was firm and clipped, leaving no room for questions or arguments. She moved quickly to the door, ignoring the sprawling doctor and he heard her voice calling Trunks to come in.

”Vegeta,” Bulma gasped.

”I want Trunks to be here to greet his brother,” he said simply.

The nurse came back into the room with Trunks. “Papa,” the boy said uncertainly.

”Go and stand with your mother,” he told the boy. “Hold her hand; help her bring your brother into the world.” Trunks moved obediently to the head of the bed and grasped his mother’s hand. The nurse approached the foot of the bed.

“You’d better let me take over here,” she said. “Breech births can be tricky and with the doctor out of the picture…”

“You can’t,” he said simply, showing her the baby’s tail wrapped around his wrist. Her eyes widened in shock as what she was seeing clicked. But instead of passing out, screaming or even gasping her eyes flicked to Vegeta’s backside and the chestnut tail wrapped snugly around his waist. Smirking faintly he uncoiled his tail. “Yes…he gets it from me.” The nurse simply nodded and said, “In that case you must do exactly what I tell you, do you understand? We want this to go as smoothly as possible. The head of the baby is its biggest part, and that is what we must deliver now.”

Vegeta nodded and followed the nurse’s instructions, carefully guiding his son into the world as Bulma pushed and groaned, pushed and groaned. And then, quite suddenly, he was holding a baby….a whole baby, face down in his hand. Carefully he turned him over, and looked into his son’s dark eyes. They looked back at him solemnly. Vegeta was stunned. The child was the mirror image of him! That unmistakable black Sayijin hair was already trying to defy gravity and the wetness of birth as it spiked around his head. His face, his obsidian eyes, everything was like Vegeta. Except…except he noticed as he glanced at his wrist, his tail. Vegeta’s tail was unquestionably a deep chestnut color, matching the color of his childhood hair which had darkened as he reached adulthood. But this child’s tail was black, black with blue highlights shot here and there, the only outward sign of his blue haired human mother. He breathed in the strong sweetly spicy smell of his newborn son, imprinting it forever into his brain. He knew his son, Sayjin instincts kicking in, had already done the same.

The nurse came forward with a couple of clamps and a pair of surgical scissors. Vegeta waved her off and gathering a tiny bit of his ki, neatly severed and cauterized his son’s umbilical cord close to his tiny stomach. He was about to hand him to Bulma when a half forgotten memory surfaced in his mind. His father, the birth of a sister, born much too early to live, his father, tracing, speaking...

Without thinking about it, as though his voice and hands were moving independently from his brain, he slowly traced the royal crest in the dampness left from his recent birth into the forehead of his newborn son. As his fingers moved, his voice, speaking in the language of his birth, spoke the words,

“With every thought in your mind, remember that you are a Sajyin Prince. Remember the duty, leadership and protection you owe to your people.”

His fingers traced gently to the hollow of his son’s tiny throat as he again traced the royal crest.

“With each breath you take, and word you speak, remember that you breathe and speak for an entire race. Chose your words carefully, for the actions of your people will follow your words.”

His finger moved again, to trace the crest over his son’s heart.

“With every beat of your heart, with every drop of blood that burns in your veins, remember the thrill of the hunt, the excitement of the challenge and the exhilaration of battle. You alone can lead your people to victory. The blood of the Royal House courses through your body. You are a Prince of Saiyjins. I give you your name, Vegeta. Bring honor to it and to your people.”

As he finished, he could hear Bulma talking softly to Trunks, apparently explaining to him what he was doing and saying. Vegeta blinked. She knew? Of course, he thought. Once, during her pregnancy with Trunks she had asked him about traditions in his family. Were the children baptized or named in any particular way? And he had told her of the ritual he had just performed, translating it for her, explaining the importance of it following a royal birth. He had never thought to ask her if she had performed the ritual with Trunks.

He glanced at her, “Did you?” his voice trailed off as she smiled at him.

Kami she was lovely.

“Yes, I did. I didn’t speak Sayjin of course, but I knew it would be important to you. The instant the doctor handed him to me; I performed the ritual and named him, a Prince of Saiyjins.”

Vegeta stared at her. Finally, finding his voice, he handed the newly named Vegeta to his mother and said quietly, “Thank you.”

“So,” said Trunks, grinning with excitement “What’s his name?”

Bulma smiled tenderly at her newborn son. “We decided to name him Vegeta after your father.” Trunks grinned. “He sure looks like Papa!” He paused, frowned and then said “But won’t that be confusing? Having two Vegeta’s in the same house?”

Bulma patted the bed beside her and beckoned to her oldest son. “Your father and I talked about that,” she said as Trunks settled down next to his mother. “We decided that Baby Vegeta here needs a nickname. Something to call him, informally. We decided to let you give him his nickname.”

“Wow…really Mama?” Trunks was beyond excited. “You mean I sorta get to name him? And whatever I choose, that’s what everyone’ll call him?”

“That’s right, “said his father. “So make sure you choose well.”

Trunks thought for a minute. “Can I hold him?” he asked tentatively.

“Of course, “replied Bulma. She settled the baby securely into his big brother’s arms, adjusting his hands so he was supported properly.

Trunks wasn’t sure why he did what he did next. It just seemed like the right thing to do. He buried his nose in his new brother’s hair and inhaled deeply. His eyes popped open in surprise.

“Hey Mama, you know what he kinda smells like?”

“What Trunks?”

Trunks smirked triumphantly, looking for a moment eerily like his father. “He smells like that shampoo and lotion that you use when you want to get Papa to do something he doesn’t want to do, only sweeter, like lots of sugar got mixed in!!”

Vegeta actually jumped and bellowed “WHAT???” Bulma had the decency to look embarrassed. She mumbled something incoherently.

“What was that woman?” demanded Vegeta.

She gazed at him levelly. “I discovered some time ago that you are very responsive to scent.” Vegeta snorted at this statement of the obvious “The...er…shampoo and lotion that Trunks is talking about I formulated myself for those times that I really need you to do something that you don’t want to do, or are just being pigheaded and stubborn.”

Vegeta gaped at her, quite possibly for the first time in his life he was at a loss for words.

“You’ve been manipulating me through my sense of smell?” he managed to choke out.

“Oh absolutely. Give me a break Vegeta; I need SOMETHING to gain the upper hand once in awhile. Don’t worry though…I don’t do it often,” she replied.

“Very clever of you,” he muttered. “Making yourself smell like a newborn Saiyjin. So, may I ask; how did you come upon that particular scent?” he wondered.

Bulma blushed again. “Thanksgiving,” she mumbled.

“What?” asked Vegeta, completely baffled.

“I noticed at Thanksgiving that you were much more easy going than any other time,” she replied. “At first, I thought it was the tryptophan in the turkey.” She looked at Vegeta in time to see him about to explode with anger at her. “It wasn’t drugged Vegeta, if that’s what you are thinking, “she snapped irritably. “Tryptophan is a naturally occurring chemical, amino acid actually, in turkey that makes you feel sleepy and good natured. Considering the amount of turkey you consume at Thanksgiving, that was the logical conclusion. But that wasn’t it. It was the dressing. Or rather, what my mother uses to season her dressing.”

Vegeta’s brain was reeling. “And what exactly is that, “he managed to ask.

Bulma smiled. “Sage,” she said simply.

Completely forgotten by both his parent’s, Trunks suddenly chirped up, “Hey, yeah, can we call him Sage?” They looked at him, startled. Then Vegeta smiled.

“”Sage” means tornado in Saiyjin-o,” he remarked.

Bulma looked at her newborn son. “Sage,” she murmured. “That’s a good name Trunks. We’ll call him Sage.” Trunks looked absolutely delighted.

They all gazed in wonder at the sleeping chibi in his niichan’s arms, tiny tail wrapped around Trunks’ forearm.

“As soon as we get home I am throwing away that damn shampoo,” Vegeta remarked absently.

To be continued…..

Talon

The more you disaprove the more fun it is for ME!!