Young Prince Vegeta poked his head around the corner of the doorframe, his curiosity getting the better of him. He'd been told to stay away from this end of the royal palace since his mother wasn't feeling well, but he just had to see his new baby brother. He'd managed to find the nursery easily enough, and the four-year-old was somewhat surprised she wasn't in the room. He glanced around, hoping to find her, but only saw nurses milling about the place and fussing over a bundle of fabric one of the old ladies was holding. They were all old, with lines on their faces creased around the corners of their eyes and mouths. Everyone was excited about the new birth, and Vegeta just wanted to see the damned thing.

He debated whether it was a good idea to burst in there like he owned the place, asserting his right as the eldest prince of all Saiyans. Then again, word could get to his father and he could be brutally scolded. His father had been very absolute, after all.

Vegeta decided just to hang back. Maybe the bundle the nurse was carrying would be exposed at some point. He just wanted to see the baby's face, that was it. And then he'd go. He couldn't understand why everyone was so up in arms over this thing anyways. Babies were born all the time! He hoped there hadn't been this amount of unnecessary parading when he'd been born. Maybe this was why father wanted him to stay away, it was beginning to get on his nerves.

He suddenly saw movement over the top of the covers. The baby was grasping for something and soon enough uttering pathetic sobs. The nurse reached for a bottle and held it for him which seemed to quiet the little thing down. Vegeta strained a little harder, hoping to catch a glimpse so he could finally go.

"And what do you think you're doing, young man?" One of the nurses called out, catching him in the act. Vegeta balked when his position was given away and contemplated running. He decided not to though, warriors don't run. He stood straight and firm, walking into the room.

"I want to see the baby." He explained in a demanding tone, challenging any of them to say otherwise. The old woman holding the infant just chuckled and beckoned him over. The prince blinked, wondering if it was really that easy. As he approached, she knelt.

"Be careful, now. Even if he is your brother, he's still quite fragile." She warned, pulling some of the nursery blanket back. Vegeta peered over the bundle with childish fascination. It was hard for many of the staff in the building to remember his age, but in this moment he looked as much like a little boy as the day he was born.

"Wow." He mused, realizing he'd let his thoughts slip over his tongue and cleared his throat, trying to cover up the exclamation. The nurse didn't call him out though. It was refreshing to see the prince with an expression other than anger.

The baby was grasping the bottle between his chubby little hands, drinking hungrily, and not seeming to notice anything else in the room. His hair was dark and spiked like his older brother and Vegeta felt something wash over himself that he couldn't really understand until he thought it over a bit.

Pride. Vegeta felt the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth but he couldn't find the effort to care if someone saw. After all, everyone in the room was smiling like an idiot.

"Would you like to hold him?" The old lady asked, earning his full and undivided attention. His first instinct was to say yes, yes, give me my damn brother. However, as he thought it over, he chewed on the idea. She seemed to sense his hesitation.

"Don't worry, you won't harm him if you're gentle." She stated reassuringly. Vegeta's eyes lit up and he couldn't help the excited inhale of breath he sucked in.

"Alright, we'll have you sit in the chair." She instructed, standing and walking over to a plush chair in the corner of the room. He dashed over to the thing and pulled himself up, sitting as straight as he could. "You'll have to cross your legs." Vegeta immediately did as he was told, looking up expectantly when he did, obvious impatience causing him to squirm in his seat. The nurse smiled and carefully unfolded her arms, gently setting the baby into the lap of his older brother. Vegeta stared in awe at the little thing as he drank his milk, capturing every detail he could see as well as he could.

"Make sure to support his head." The nurse stated, taking hold of his arms and moving them to be positioned in a way as to not drop the baby. Vegeta obeyed without contesting, his eyes glued to the infant in front of him. He looked so soft and doughy, like the cook was intending to bake him into bread. The bundle was warm and surprisingly heavy, and Vegeta caught himself holding on a little tighter.

"Well, what do you think?" The nurse asked. He didn't move his eyes from his brother as he spoke.

"He looks useless." Vegeta muttered, shifting his hold on the baby and using his now free hand to touch his jet-black hair. It was unbelievably soft as he ran his fingers along the littler boy's scalp. The nurse chuckled.

"Yes, babies aren't yet trained for battle, my prince. Even you had to do your own rigorous training as soon as you were standing."

The baby glanced around, as if suddenly aware he wasn't alone with his bottle. He tried to look at the hand stroking the crown of his head but was unsuccessful until his eyes settled on Vegeta's. He stopped sucking and stared, causing Vegeta to raise a questioning eyebrow.

"W-What's wrong with him?" He asked skeptically. He wasn't given a response though as the little boy let go of the bottle, letting it fall into his lap. Giggling and tiny chubby hands grasping for his nose made the older prince's eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"He's curious about his big brother." One of the nurses offered. Vegeta was at a loss for what to do and forced his mind to go back to basic greeting techniques. What did people do in these situations? They bowed, exchanged pleasantries. This, however, didn't seem to warrant something so formal. He'd seen people grasp and shake hands before, usually between acquaintances and good friends. He held a hand over the little boy, which seemed to be appreciated as the younger reached up and took hold of his first finger and pinky. A smile cracked open Vegeta's serious expression, much to the delight of the nurses around.

The sound of a man clearing his throat caused everyone to turn and look at the doorway. Vegeta's expression collapsed when he found the brother of his mom standing there.

"Well would you look at that, the newly arrived prince." He mused, slowly walking into the room with his arms folded over his chest.

"Oritz," The nurse that had been holding the baby greeted coldly, "What brings you here?" Her voice was bleak and displeased, a stark contrast to how she'd been talking to Vegeta. He didn't even acknowledge the woman as he stopped in front of his nephews.

"Is that your new brother?" He asked the young prince, earning a glare in response. There were very few who dared to speak to him like any other young child, and those who did weren't high on his list of priorities. "Funny, I seem to remember your father specifically telling you not to go anywhere near this side of the palace."

Vegeta bristled, his expression souring even greater.

"I don't need you telling me what to do." He shot back. The baby in his lap whimpered tentatively. "If I wanted I could have you skinned, and father wouldn't bat an eye." He threatened, a malicious grin carving into his face. Oritz scoffed and raised his hands in defense.

"Now, there's no need for that, my prince." He stated, getting down on one knee and placing a hand on the baby's head. Vegeta frowned. Uncle Oritz wasn't tall, but he was slightly taller than the king. His hair was black like most other Saiyans and stood straight up, not nearly as high as either King or Prince Vegeta, though. His widow's peak was smaller instead of an exaggerated point, and his bulk came mostly from the amount of food he ate rather than the battles he'd won. Oritz claimed he was more of a strategist, but Vegeta knew he was just a coward. The only reason he even had a role in the Saiyan military and government was because of the queen.

Oritz nudged his head in the direction of the door. "Come on. Princes aren't meant to look after babies, let's leave that to the old women." He stated simply, raising a hand overhead and snapping his fingers. The gesture earned him a scowl from everyone in that room, nevertheless the baby was once again in the arms of a nurse.

Vegeta hopped down and stormed passed the man who followed with a ghost of a smile on his lips.

~0~

King Vegeta glared menacingly at his son who stood his ground with fierce determination in his eyes. As angry as the man was for being disobeyed by his own child, he couldn't help feeling proud of the boy's willingness to accept blame for his actions. He knew Oritz was just a snake looking to jostle up some trouble and was going to have a word with him about keeping worthless information to himself. The real reason he hadn't wanted the boy near the newborn or his mother was because of his ridiculous capacity of getting attached. He was trying to break the habit early, before it caused his firstborn a world of trouble.

The prince wasn't hopelessly devoted to his mother, but he was certainly more dependent than the king would like to admit. Of course, this flaw was overlooked easily enough with his impressive power level which was beginning to rival the king himself. However, he didn't need the heir to his throne forming needless attachments with a newborn infant. Especially after learning the child had been born with a ridiculously low-class power level.

"Boy, what did I tell you?" He said evenly, impressed when the child didn't even flinch.

"To stay away from mother until she is well again." The prince replied. The king scoffed, angry at what a waste of time this session was. His son was self-sufficient, any future lessons would easily cure him of his foolish emotional states, and the boy knew what he'd done was disapproved of.

"And what do you have to say for yourself?" The king drawled, rolling his eyes.

"I apologize and humbly ask your forgiveness, father." He replied, bowing low. The young Vegeta hadn't missed his father's unamused features, grinning to himself when he knew Oritz was more of a nuisance to the King than his prodigy son.

King Vegeta flicked his hand back and forth, dismissing the boy.

"To the training chambers. I want six hours of practice completed." He ordered. The prince did as he was told, marching off and leaving the two adults alone.

"My king, are you sure your punishment was harsh enough? He deliberately disobeyed you…" Oritz was cut off by a snarl from the king.

"You think I have time to monitor even move my son makes? Do you think I was the type to listen to every word my own father would command?" He demanded with a ruthless glare. Oritz shriveled back. "I'm aware he gets his idiotic emotional state from his mother, and if you ever find yourself needing to instruct me on how to raise my son again, I suggest you ask Lord Frieza himself to end your miserable life before I get the chance."

The king glared long and hard until Oritz finally got the message, apologized, bowed, and left as quickly as possible.

~0~

A/N: prepare to be smothered in CUTE
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