Chapter Text
Bulma stared at her reflection in horror. Her cerulean eyes shifting disbelievingly from the dusty rose pebble of soft skin exposed on her otherwise dark-scaled chest, to the single ultramarine scale she now held between her webbed fingers. The scale had, but a moment ago, been firmly secured to the crown of her right breast; and now –her life might as well be over.
The Mermaid had woken up with the most intense of chest itches and after furiously clawing at the scales found there, this had been the result: one scale –a single scale had been loosened and lost; and her befuddled mind took its sweet time digesting the monumental implications. From the corner of her eye she caught the reflected gaze of her twin sister, Marron. Her turquoise eyes were also fixed on the scale in Bulma’s hand and were wide and with awe.
As a telepathic race, the Merfolk are also often sensitive to their fellow mer’s emotions, and since the two Mermaids are as close as any pair of twins could be, Marron could easily sense and was woken by Bulma’s distress. Like Bulma, Marron had also immediately seen what was causing all the consternation, yet a quick peek into her sister’s mind revealed joy and reverence and not the animosity that Bulma felt towards what she considered, a very dire situation. Sensing her sister’s attention, Marron shifted her eyes to meet those of her twin.
‘Oh, Bulma!’ she squealed, ‘Do you know what this means?’ Bulma grimaced. Of course she knew what it meant. When a mermaid of their kind lost their chest scales, she was immediately classified as a 'fertile'. Such a rarity and a blessing, fertile mermaids were, that they must be "cherished" and "protected" at all cost, and at a monumental price: fertile mermaids were practically prisoners in gilded cages. And fertiles, who like Bulma, were of royal decent were seen as mere chattel, livestock to be bargained for and bartered to ensure strong offspring, viable to contend for the throne. And if the first suitor didn't take, well there was always more candidates waiting in line for their attempt at "breaking the curse", gag! Bulma thought with disgust, and glared bitterly at her exposed nipple. She was to be a Breeder then.
‘No way!’ Bulma projected her denial, almost viciously. Marron’s cheery disposition vanished and was replaced by utter confusion. She stared at Bulma with a troubled expression and Bulma soon felt the telepathic tendrils of her twin, probing at her shielded thoughts. Marron, was by no means a strong telepath and after a minute of futile poking she gave up with an exasperated sigh.
‘I don’t understand, Bulma! You’ve been endowed with the ability to reproduce. The great Neptune himself has lovingly blessed you!’ she projected passionately .
Bulma, still glaring hatefully at the exposed skin on the apex of her right breast, laughed bitterly. She should have known that Marron would see it this way, what else can one expect from a priestess.
‘It is more a curse than a blessing, Sister. I am a warrior, not a Breeder. I would die before I let myself be gang-raped and have my uterus abused at the whim of a bunch of greedy old farts!’
Marron’s eyes widened, shocked at her sister’s callous words. She looked around fearfully for a moment, verifying the no-one was in hearing distance so as to pick up her sister’s seditious thoughts before turning an angry gaze on Bulma. ‘You dare speak so rudely of the Queen’s Council? That could be seen as treason!’
Another bitter laugh, ‘What can they do to me, Marron?’ she challenged haughtily. ‘I’m the highest raking official in the Queen’s army – ’
‘They are strong too, Bulma.’
‘They are old and feeble.’ Bulma continued as if the interruption had not taken place. ‘I am the seventh daughter of Queen’
‘Eighth’
‘Keep dreaming Marron. I was born first.’
‘Says you’
‘I am a General of her military forces,’ Bulma went on, ignoring her sister, ‘Captain to her Imperial Guard. Our people are awed and in fear of my ferocious reputation and cunning…’ she continued gloating, but was again interrupted by her Marron’s mutterings: ‘Yes, yes: Bulma the Bull shark, the powerful and courageous, and so on and so forth.’ Marron drawled , rolling her eyes as she had heard the very speech a thousand times over. Bulma frowned. There was momentary silence as the only sentiments passing between the two telepathic creatures were emotions of stubborn resentment and teasing amusement.
‘My point is,’Bulma continued loudly and Marron winced at the force of the interjection, ‘The Council would not dare to put me in the ranks of the Queen’s breeders-in-waiting. I’m too much of a military and political asset.’
Even as Bulma spoke, she realised she was likely only fooling herself. Marron knew it too and her twin sighed in sympathy.
‘Bulma,’ she started again, cautiously. ‘You know if it is discovered that you are fertile, you will not be left as you are, especially because of your high rank in the army. Don’t you see? This is exactly why the great Sea God had blessed you with this gift! It’s our tradition; only the strongest of the queen’s breeding daughter’s will one day ascend to the throne and you’re the strongest in the whole of the domain. The strongest one...’ Marron trailed off softly. Suddenly her eyes lit with an epiphany – a truly astonishing feat since it was well known that Marron definitely was not the brightest anglerfish in the deep sea.
‘The Prophecy!’ The priestess shrieked excitedly,
“When stars decide to touch the sea. Blue is called to blend with black. The strongest one must chosen be. The barren trident to bring back… A brown-tailed one with lilac hair. The golden crown he is to wear.”
By the time Marron was done reciting their people's prophecy Prophecy her eyes were wide as saucers as she stared at her twin. Bulma gulped, dread churning in the pit of her stomach...This did not bode well her her.
Great. Just Great! Bulma thought sarcastically. Now she thinks I’m some kind of foreseen Messiah. What the Kelp have they been brainwashing her in that damned temple? If there was ever any hope that Bulma could have swayed her twin into assisting her in her escape, the priestess' little speech and the fanatical look in her glowing eyes had just dashed it. Nevertheless, Bulma tried again: ‘Marron, there hasn’t been a male heir in five generations. What makes you think that I would change that?’
‘I know you will. Why else would a great warrior like yourself develop fertility so far into your adult life? Fertility is usually developed on the onset of sexual maturity. It all makes sense now... you're to be our new Queen. You will birth the fortold heir, our long awaited King, and bring an end to the curse on our bloodline!’ Marron continued with unshakable faith. ‘You’re the strongest one. I know you are. Oh! This is so exciting. I must inform the Council.’ Bulma shook her head, frustration at her own twin’s obvious indoctrination.
'I can't let you do that, Marron!' Bulma words halted her sister in her wake. Marron froze, her eyebrows scrunched, betraying her confusion. ‘If I become Queen, like our mother, I will be forced to give birth every cycle for the rest of my life! I will never see a battlefield or war chambers or my comrades in arms again. How could you possibly think I would be happy about this?’
‘I don’t understand Bulma. Our city has waited 300 years for the you to appear. It... it will not be as you think. If you give birth to a son, you'll no longer have to bare more children as our mother does.. or her mother before her.'
‘Who the kelp says that that stupid prophecy is about me anyway?’Bulma shouted, frustration reaching boiling point. There was no reasoning with her sister.
‘But..you’re the strongest.. The Prophecy says-’
'And who, pray-tell will be the father of this illustrious male heir that I'm supposedly going to give birth to?' Bulma interrupted scornfully.
'I'm sure the Council would chose only the most worthiest of the noble bachelors.' Marron answered with conviction. Bulma laughed humorlessly.
'You mean the candidate who is worth the most, surely.'
'What do you mean?'
'Oh come now Marron. You can't really be that dumb, can you? The Council doesn't give two kelps about worthiness of character. All they care for is who can do the biggest favors and how much they gold they can line the royal coffers with. Do you know what I think? I think the Prophecy is nothing but a myth; created to cover up the fact that the Queen’s –our bloodline has been corrupted generations ago, only producing meek female offspring for the Council to be able to manipulate like puppets.'
Marron gasped, and shook her head in denial. ‘Sacrilege! Surely you don’t believe that’ Marron contested in an anguished whisper.
‘Marron!’ Bulma snapped, her wrath tangible. Marron cringed. ‘Don’t be stupid. Not one of this city’s Queens or their breeding daughters have been able to produce a healthy male heir for hundreds of years now! Even our rival Kingdoms have noticed and exploited this weakness. And what did your precious Council do when we were were facing defeat and sacking three cycles ago? 'Pray for the heir! Pray for the one who was promised. Only he can save our city!' What utter lunacy, it was my military tactics, my blood spilled on that battlefield, that saved this city from the brink of defeat, not my womb!'
'Nobody doubts that you are the savior of our city. You have proven your strength to all, but you are fertile now. They will not allow you to fight again, and even more, the city is safe. The war is over and the treaty has been finalized. Is it not time for you to pursue a greater purpose? After all, you said it: the fact that we don't have a king is seen as a weakness in the other merrealms. You can change that, Bulma. You can make us strong again. The Great Neptune has so decreed it with your late fertility.' Marron ended solemnly. Bulma wanted to tear her own hair out.
'Tell me sister, do I look meek to you? Do I look like the sort of mermaid who will lay down and take the seed so "graciously" bestowed upon me? I belong on a war council not in a bed chamber popping out guppies! I won't be wasting my life or my mind being the figurehead of this city.’
‘What are you going to do then, Bulma? Are you going to hide this gift and deprive your own people of a better future?’ Marron’s snarled.
‘Damn it, Marron!’ Bulma snapped angrily, ‘Don't you understand? This is not some gift from the gods! This is nothing but bad luck and I’m not sticking around long enough for the Council to get their slimy hand on me. Being fertile is the worst thing that could have happened to me.' Marron was shaking her head in denial and finally let out a sorrowful wail. ‘I’ve done a lot for this monarchy,' she continued, 'but this... this is to much to ask of even me. I need to escape Marron. Will you help me?'
Marron glared angrily at her sister, which is probably to be expected, Bulma thought. ‘I can’t believe you!’ she replied, shoving her sister away from her. ‘You betray us so carelessly and still you expect me to help you?’ Marron was completely livid. It was worth a shot. Bulma thought to herself with a sad sigh as she watched her sister storm from the room, the strong backlash caused by Marron’s hastily exiting tail nearly spun Bulma in her place. She considered swimming after her, but decided the risk was too great. Marron’s vision would clearly see her as the next Queen, which meant she could not be trusted to stay silent. With a defeated glance at her right breast, now even more bare because of her overzealous tirade, Bulma decided that if their were ever a time to escape, it would be immediately.