Disclaimer: uhm…yes. You know the drill.
A/N: So sorry for taking FOREVER to finally get on with this fic!!!! It's just that I got some other ideas and I get so easily sidetracked…lol, I know…excuses excuses. Well obviously my drunk penguin muse has finally stumbled back to me… Actually this chapter was kind of forced, since drunk penguins aren't exactly the most reliable muses. Hopefully I'll get the whole flow of writing back soon, but until then….enjoy! And may the meatloaf be with you.
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A much cleaner (and fish-free) little Vegeta stepped into the training room, donning a black gi with the royal emblem on the back in silver. He watched with fascination as Callia sliced through the air with her sword, her movements only slightly hindered by her injury. Her long hair was gathered into a single messy braid, and it whipped around her head as she preformed several complex maneuvers. She paused to catch her breath, and upon seeing him, tossed her sword aside and motioned for him to come forward with her head. He complied, striding to the middle of the room while keeping his eyes on the discarded weapon. She noticed where his gaze was, and immediately knew what he was thinking.
"Sorry little tsuban . . . you won't be using any sharp objects for awhile."
"Why not?" he asked defensively, the hair on his tail prickling slightly in agitation.
"The sword's bigger than you are!"
"There're smaller ones."
"Vegeta, you know as well as I do that it takes years of basic training before you can fight with weapons." She laughed. "For Kami's sake, you're only 5 years old! You have tons of time to learn this stuff."
"I want to learn it now!"
He scowled petulantly and plopped down on the ground, his tail wrapped firmly around his waist. Callia sighed . . . she knew there'd be no reasoning with him. After all, how could you reason with a kid who inherited stubbornness from BOTH his parents? There was only one thing she could do to keep this semi-argument from escalating into an all-out war. She winced, remembering the last time that had happened . . . the outcome was not pretty, and she (along with most of household servants) had learned the hard way that Vegeta did not particularly enjoy wearing dress armor. For someone who hadn't learned any ki attacks, he was incredibly good at wreaking havoc.
Callia took a deep breath, hoping that she wouldn't regret the next words to come out of her mouth.
"Fine. You can use it."
She walked over to her sword and picked it up, carrying it back to Vegeta. His eyes lit up at her consent, but they immediately narrowed in suspicion at the weapon held before him.
"How come you changed your mind?" he asked, looking up at his mother from his position on the floor.
"Hn, smart kid…" Callia thought to herself with a faint smirk. "Already questioning motives. He's going to make a hell of a fighter."
Though secretly proud of him, she put on a face of cool indifference and withdrew the sword.
"Well if you don't WANT to use it…" She trailed off, turning her back to him and slowly walking over to the weapons rack, feigning putting the sword away.
Vegeta was up in a shot.
"I didn't say that," he stated firmly, arms crossed as he stood before the saiyan queen.
Anyone could have easily forgotten that this was only a boy of 5, and not a general of 55…if it were not for the slight childish pout tugging at his lips. She arched an eyebrow at him and crossed her own arms, still holding the sharp metal object by its handle. Mother and son mirrored each other in a sort of standoff, neither one willing to break the silence by speaking first. Finally Callia slowly uncrossed her arms and held the sword in front of her, making the tip rest on the hard ground. This time Vegeta accepted her offer and stepped forward to receive it.
Unfortunately his height prevented him from being able to reach the handle, so the queen moved her hand down to the middle of the sword and lowered it to the ground. Once the handle was low enough he grabbed onto it with both hands, and Callia let go.
Vegeta's upper body was jerked down with the unexpected weight, and she struggled not to laugh at the disgruntled expression on his face as he straightened. He tried to lift it up, but only managed to drag the blade across the ground. The young prince bit his lower lip in fierce determination as he struggled with the impossible task of raising a sword that was taller than he was. Finally with a look of annoyance and dropped the handle and looked up at Callia. The sound of metal hitting the ground echoed through the room.
"Well?"
"Well what?"
She had expected him to throw a fit and demand that he get a lighter sword, or just stalk out of the room. What she didn't expect, however, was to have him wait slightly impatiently with the weapon fallen by his side.
"You proved your point. Can we start training now?"
The petit saiyan queen smirked and nodded. "That's my boy," she murmured, softly enough so that he wouldn't overhear her. "Kid…some day you're going to be legendary."
A/N II: Sorry for the short chapter…I'll bravely attempt to make the next one longer! (lol, I think you've all noticed by now that long chapters aren't exactly my forte…actually NOTHING's really my forte, but that's neither here nor there). And now I am off to sleep, because this headache is killing me! Goodnight, and gravy-filled dreams!
A/N: So sorry for taking FOREVER to finally get on with this fic!!!! It's just that I got some other ideas and I get so easily sidetracked…lol, I know…excuses excuses. Well obviously my drunk penguin muse has finally stumbled back to me… Actually this chapter was kind of forced, since drunk penguins aren't exactly the most reliable muses. Hopefully I'll get the whole flow of writing back soon, but until then….enjoy! And may the meatloaf be with you.
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A much cleaner (and fish-free) little Vegeta stepped into the training room, donning a black gi with the royal emblem on the back in silver. He watched with fascination as Callia sliced through the air with her sword, her movements only slightly hindered by her injury. Her long hair was gathered into a single messy braid, and it whipped around her head as she preformed several complex maneuvers. She paused to catch her breath, and upon seeing him, tossed her sword aside and motioned for him to come forward with her head. He complied, striding to the middle of the room while keeping his eyes on the discarded weapon. She noticed where his gaze was, and immediately knew what he was thinking.
"Sorry little tsuban . . . you won't be using any sharp objects for awhile."
"Why not?" he asked defensively, the hair on his tail prickling slightly in agitation.
"The sword's bigger than you are!"
"There're smaller ones."
"Vegeta, you know as well as I do that it takes years of basic training before you can fight with weapons." She laughed. "For Kami's sake, you're only 5 years old! You have tons of time to learn this stuff."
"I want to learn it now!"
He scowled petulantly and plopped down on the ground, his tail wrapped firmly around his waist. Callia sighed . . . she knew there'd be no reasoning with him. After all, how could you reason with a kid who inherited stubbornness from BOTH his parents? There was only one thing she could do to keep this semi-argument from escalating into an all-out war. She winced, remembering the last time that had happened . . . the outcome was not pretty, and she (along with most of household servants) had learned the hard way that Vegeta did not particularly enjoy wearing dress armor. For someone who hadn't learned any ki attacks, he was incredibly good at wreaking havoc.
Callia took a deep breath, hoping that she wouldn't regret the next words to come out of her mouth.
"Fine. You can use it."
She walked over to her sword and picked it up, carrying it back to Vegeta. His eyes lit up at her consent, but they immediately narrowed in suspicion at the weapon held before him.
"How come you changed your mind?" he asked, looking up at his mother from his position on the floor.
"Hn, smart kid…" Callia thought to herself with a faint smirk. "Already questioning motives. He's going to make a hell of a fighter."
Though secretly proud of him, she put on a face of cool indifference and withdrew the sword.
"Well if you don't WANT to use it…" She trailed off, turning her back to him and slowly walking over to the weapons rack, feigning putting the sword away.
Vegeta was up in a shot.
"I didn't say that," he stated firmly, arms crossed as he stood before the saiyan queen.
Anyone could have easily forgotten that this was only a boy of 5, and not a general of 55…if it were not for the slight childish pout tugging at his lips. She arched an eyebrow at him and crossed her own arms, still holding the sharp metal object by its handle. Mother and son mirrored each other in a sort of standoff, neither one willing to break the silence by speaking first. Finally Callia slowly uncrossed her arms and held the sword in front of her, making the tip rest on the hard ground. This time Vegeta accepted her offer and stepped forward to receive it.
Unfortunately his height prevented him from being able to reach the handle, so the queen moved her hand down to the middle of the sword and lowered it to the ground. Once the handle was low enough he grabbed onto it with both hands, and Callia let go.
Vegeta's upper body was jerked down with the unexpected weight, and she struggled not to laugh at the disgruntled expression on his face as he straightened. He tried to lift it up, but only managed to drag the blade across the ground. The young prince bit his lower lip in fierce determination as he struggled with the impossible task of raising a sword that was taller than he was. Finally with a look of annoyance and dropped the handle and looked up at Callia. The sound of metal hitting the ground echoed through the room.
"Well?"
"Well what?"
She had expected him to throw a fit and demand that he get a lighter sword, or just stalk out of the room. What she didn't expect, however, was to have him wait slightly impatiently with the weapon fallen by his side.
"You proved your point. Can we start training now?"
The petit saiyan queen smirked and nodded. "That's my boy," she murmured, softly enough so that he wouldn't overhear her. "Kid…some day you're going to be legendary."
A/N II: Sorry for the short chapter…I'll bravely attempt to make the next one longer! (lol, I think you've all noticed by now that long chapters aren't exactly my forte…actually NOTHING's really my forte, but that's neither here nor there). And now I am off to sleep, because this headache is killing me! Goodnight, and gravy-filled dreams!