A/N: Again, set in the AU from my previous drabbles. *grins* Vegeta is slowly growing up.

Written communication

~ Flashback ~

Drabble 3 – Mince

3 intransitive senses : to walk with short steps in a prim affected manner

Ciaran,

Thanks to your help, I did not make a fool of myself during the dreaded Ball. Father was quietly amused and Mother very pleased with me. She said that I danced very well.

Vegeta stopped and thought for a while, grimacing.

Apparently too well. She dragged me around to meet her friends and paraded me like some wind-up toy. I must have danced with all of the Ladies in the room.

The twelve year-old prince paused again, lips pursing in a pout. He had been unhappy when his parents informed him that he had to attend the annual Ball that year, and horrified when he found out that he had to dance as well. After going through the dusty etiquette books in a quiet panic, he capitulated and called up the only person who could help and not laugh at him.

The older Sidhe prince was refined and well-versed in the courtly ways. Tall and slender with glowing looks, he was the epitome of grace and polish. Over the years, their friendship had grown, and on hearing of his friend's distress, Ciaran had immediately flown in on the next pod.

~

"You're like a lumbering bull!" Ciaran scolded sharply, standing beside the irate younger male.

"I am not!" Vegeta snapped, deeply offended. "I followed your movements exactly."

The taller prince sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "You dance like you're going to attack your partner; sudden and lunging."

"Look at how I'm doing it," he told the Saiyan adolescent as he started moving. "You've got to take smaller, more mincing steps. Keep your shoulders relaxed. It's just like any kata, but you've got to make your movements more fluid, smoother…"

Vegeta watched sullenly as the willowy blond glided back and forth, privately admitting that the Sidhe youth made it looked all so easy and graceful. He had memorized the complicated sequence of steps easily, but still he felt jerky and awkward. A large part of his problem stemmed from his embarrassment; dancing was for sissies!

With a weary sigh, he tried again, chanting mentally to himself. Smaller steps, mincing steps, smaller steps…

"Your leg width is still too wide; don't spread so much," Ciaran grinned broadly as if he found the statement hilarious. Vegeta shot him a dark glare, unsure of what the joke was, but obediently closed his legs slightly.

"You're not in a battle stance; your legs should be shoulder-width apart or less." Ciaran demonstrated. "Think of it as fighting within an enclosed space if it helps. Keep your movements light and fluid; it conserves your energy and leaves you less open to attack."

~

The analogies had helped him greatly; fighting was one thing that the young warrior prince understood very well. After much encouragement and threats and effort; the Sidhe royal had finally proclaimed his dancing acceptable.

Now Mother wants to bring me along for the Hyrim Queen's Ball next week. I blame this wholly on you.

Sincerely,

Vegeta

p.s.: Thanks.

(500 words)