The Nature of Moonlight

Chapter 13

It was overwhelming. Goku could hear Vegeta in his mind, feel his feelings, almost like he was actually a piece of Vegeta himself. Almost like they were done fusing and were an all-powerful being again, but fusion never compared to this. It was either a pitiful attempt to mimic the r'bhon'or at its best, or a mockery of what he and Vegeta now had at its worst. Sometimes post-fusion, he'd be more in-tune with Vegeta's ki, but that was it. Not like this. Never like this.

He knew his family was around him after the ceremony, where they lingered in the room for a bit as the large banquet hall finished preparing for their arrival. He heard the King speaking, knew Chikora was too. He could see Gohan's happy smile, Goten laughing with Trunks, Bulma's wide grin. He saw Beerus tapping his foot angrily, Whis giggling behind one of his hands, Bulla playing with Chikora's hair, Pan fussing in Videl's arms, Chichi actually smiling at him. But he couldn't respond to them. He was solely focused on Vegeta, the r'bhon'or and... everything.

Over the last year and a half, the r'bhon'or changed everything between them in the best way possible. Vegeta taught him and practiced with him how to harness the r'bhon'or better, how to send emotions over it, how to close it. The r'bhon'or was his helper when he didn't know how Vegeta was feeling. It gave him hints on what Vegeta could possibly be thinking about. But he didn't think he'd ever get as good with it as Vegeta was, and he was okay with that. It was good enough having the r'bhon'or as it was. He couldn't imagine himself getting to the point where he could read Vegeta's mind, or even share thoughts between the two of them. Vegeta told him that it would take years for them to reach that point, to talk to each other telepathically, let alone be able to read each others minds, and he was fine with never doing that. Maybe some day they could.

But then the ceremony. The silk fabric around their arms. The reopening of the r'bhon'or and their umoya'ir. Their umoya'ir.

As they exited the room, Vegeta and himself leading everyone to the banquet hall, Goku couldn't keep his eyes off the man. This was like the dark place Tor took him to, that exact Vegeta now beside him, walking with him as if they were always meant to be this way. He glowed still, just like in that dark place, but so much better. Brighter. Beautiful.

Vegeta had better control over this, somehow. Goku still struggled to say anything, his voice mute, his body in a way detached from himself, like he could observe himself from the outside in. He would've been worried, had there been no r'bhon'or to help him. Instead, he felt Vegeta's comfort and love, his admiration and his pride—pride, for him—and it stopped any potential nerves or doubts to come forward.

Plus, the very soft, very faint whispers in his head helped too. Vegeta's thoughts. It was so muffled in his head that he couldn't make out all the words. They sounded like little whisps of wind in the evening, or the ruffling of grass on a summer morning. But the words he did pick up on—beautiful, mine, beloved—were more than enough to keep Goku calm and feeling safe.

At the familiar large double doors, he and Vegeta were greeted by the soldiers there, bowing to them. When the doors opened, they walked into a room full of Saiyans cheering and clapping for them. Mountains of food waiting for them all, with one ornate table on a high riser at the end of the hall and two large burgundy thrones.

Vegeta and himself sat there, where they listened to speeches from the King, Chikora, Bulma and, surprisingly, Chichi as well. All of them wishing them many happy years together. All of them telling a funny anecdote or two. All of them short, sweet and full of love for the two of them, toasting to their happiness and good fortune. Of them all, Chichi's kept hers the shortest, but Goku loved it nonetheless. Those kind, loving words from them all helped ease his tension away and he felt more like himself again.