Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Snow Trunks and the Z Dwarves ❯ Complicating ( Chapter 3 )

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"Snow Trunks and the Z Dwarves"

by Shella

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A thin, wispy trail of smoke crawled out from under the door to Queen Frieza's private apartments. It slipped through the keyhole, winding a lazy trail up to the ceiling, a ghostly fog grey in shadow but soft pink in the flickering light of torches posted along the hall. As it passed by the dancing orange flames small sparkles were illuminated in the foggy coils, and even the occasional bubble could be seen shining wetly through the wreathes and veils of mist.

"Wheeee thish ish shome goooooooooooooooooood shtuff! Lookit the purty lightsh! Hee hee - you're goin' pink Zarbon! C'mere 'n' lemme fix that for ya. Need a bid of foundashun … but I don' have any green paint … ha, that meansh you gotsh ta be pink all day hehehehe…"

An interesting note about the spells and potions her Ladyship used to find people was that many of them produced almost identical effects to those of certain illegal flora.

"Lishen 'ere M'Lady, you gotsh a job to do, remember? You gotsh to find the Prinshe sho you can kill 'im 'n' get a new one…"

"Aw, you're no fun Zarbon … I wantsh ta bake cookiesh!"

"Yesh we can do that later M'Lady, gotsh to find the Prinshe now."

"Oh alrigh'…"

Pouting, Queen Frieza bent over the seeing-pool, squinting in a rather cross-eyed manner into the swirling, misty depths. The drops of bubble bath he'd added to the simmering liquid earlier would be having their desired effect in a minute, enlightening him to the whereabouts of his renegade Princess. This particular brand of magic only worked for the ruler of the kingdom, so Zarbon had to ask to know what was going on.

"Sho … wha'sh 'appenin'?"

"Uh … I can shee … that there'sh goin' ta be lotsha fog tonight…"

Zarbon snorted with laughter. "Hehehehe … yer a funny lady, Mish Friesha … hehe … heh…"

"Shilly Zarbon."

"Tel' me more Your Majeshhhty!"

"Well okayyyyy … I can shee … a houshe in the woodsh … it'sh very shmall … hey lookie! There'sh shum funny-lookin' thingiesh in it … a hairy newt o' shum short I think … no wait … it'sh a dwarf…"

"A dwarf? What're a bunch o' dwarvesh doin' in your kingdom?"

Frieza looked a little closer. "I dun think I wanna know…" There was a pause during which the Lizard Queen gave a tiny, almost imperceptible shudder. Zarbon looked at him curiously. Shaking his head rather dazedly, Frieza whispered something in his ear to which the pet minion had to suppress a gag.

He swiftly got himself under control. "Ish the Prinshe there?"

"'Ang on I'll take a lookie … yeah he ish! Gawd, Zarbon, he'sh wearing man-clothesh! I mean ugh … he looked SHO much bedder in a dresh…"

"Sho you gonna go after 'im or what?"

"Yeah, yeah … but I gotta think o' a plan firsht…" Frieza rolled his eyes at the confused look Zarbon gave him. "I gotsh ta do thish with shtyle Zarbon ya shilly gooshe." He giggled. "I'm the Queen, I gotsh ta do it in my own shpeshal way!"

Zarbon blinked, his eyes wavering slightly as the image in front of him seemed to spin. The fumes from Frieza's potion were even more potent than he'd thought.

"Sho I'm goin' ta dresh up ash a woman!" The Lizard Queen clapped his hands together gleefully. "Yesh! A wrinkly old hag sho he'll never recognishe me - it'sh a perfect plan. Go me!"

"Any ekshkushe, right M'Lady?" grinned Zarbon lopsidedly.

"Whee!" Frieza danced around the cauldron towards the door and snatched at the handle. It took him several tries to remember which way it turned, and indeed that it turned at all, before he tumbled out into the hallway along with a cloud of pink and grey mist.

Zarbon almost choked on the fresh air invading the room and indistinctly heard the somewhat muffled sounds of every guard in the hall for a hundred metres in either direction becoming instantly befuddled by the coloured fumes.

Stumbling out of the room and leaning heavily on the walls as he passed, he followed the sound of skipping feet to Frieza's dressing room a few doors down. As guards staggered past him in the opposite direction, already red-eyed and wavering on their feet, the green minion wondered vaguely how his Queen managed to skip in such an affected state.

Zarbon reached Frieza's dressing room just in time to get pelted in the face by a strange top that seemed to be made up completely of shiny beads. Pulling the strange bit of clothing off his face, he looked into the room on a scene of chaos.

Clothes were everywhere, draped over chairs, flung onto mirrors, dropped on dressing tables, piled on the floor in three-foot-high mounds. Items ranging from floor-length dresses to obscenely lacy corsets to skirts that were more like belts had been haphazardly removed from every wardrobe in the room (and there were a lot of wardrobes). A loud, off-key hum of `Dancing Queen' pinpointed the Lizard Queen's location among the cacophony of anti-fashion statements, deep within the furthest corner of the largest wardrobe.

When Frieza appeared once more, he was in a long, drab brown peasant's cloak with a dirt-coloured hood and jacket, his wrinkled, prune-like face a tribute to the powers of make-up. Looking immensely pleased with his get-up, the Lady did a little twirl in front of his favourite minion.

"Well? How do I look?"

"A brilliant disguise, m'Lady. Not even Trunks will be able to tell you for who you really are."

Frieza cackled delightedly and, hoisting up his long skirt, stepped carefully over the piles of clothing on the floor and out into the hall once again. Zarbon was granted a brief flash of lacy green stockings as the Queen passed, and was reassured that disguises really are only skin deep.

~~ooO@Ooo~~

The late morning sun slanted through a low window to alight on a vision of ethereal beauty. The soft golden glow played on the gorgeous creature's face, illuminating every angular feature, delighting in each perfectly coloured tone. The pale tan of satin skin, the lustrous strands of lavender silken hair, the startlingly deep blue eyes like liquid pools of sapphire … not even the sunlight could ignore the loveliness of this god, this immortal, this … beauty.

"Screw those stupid dwarves and their Kami-damned `room and board'. They can all go jump off a cliff for all I care and do the world a favour. I swear, I don't even want to know what the hell made that mess. Bunch of sick freaks."

Mirai Trunks scowled furiously. There was a stain on the living room carpet that looked like nothing he'd ever seen, and being the sex god he was he'd seen quite a lot of dodgy stuff. But this … this was just … eurgh. Not even a brave prince with nerves of steel could stomach the thought of what exactly had caused something like … ugh … that. It just was not a pleasant notion.

Nevertheless, he was attempting to clean it up, and managing to get himself completely tangled in that stupid frilly apron the dwarves insisted on making him wear at the same time.

"Hn … they just like … women in uniforms…"

He cursed under his breath as one of the numerous cheery-coloured ties came undone and began flapping down around his shins. Attempting to stand up to sort the damn things out, he accidentally stood on the end of one and promptly deposited himself on the floor for about the hundredth time since he'd been staying with the dwarves.

Of course, the bloody apron then had to take on a life of its own. Trunks really couldn't explain how the hell he ended up getting so completely trapped in it - surely it wasn't physically possible for something so comparatively small to ensnare him that much? However the demented piece of clothing managed it, he. Couldn't. Move. And he was definitely not happy about it.

*Knock, knock*

"Hel-looooooooooooo! Is anybody home?"

Mirai had a sincere yearning to whip out something very long and very sharp on the bird who'd just knocked on the front door and called out in a high-pitched, slightly raspy voice that seemed strangely familiar.

With a sudden surge of strength derived from the mortal embarrassment he would suffer being seen in this situation, Mirai forced his limbs to straighten and ended up on his feet with a shredded mass of cherry-coloured frills hanging from him. Feeling elation fill him at the destruction of the cursed apron, the lilac-haired bishonen threw off the rags gleefully. He had to still an urge to dance for joy as the tattered remnants of the garment drifted slowly down to pool on the floor at his feet.

Mirai reached the front door and found a bent old woman waiting just outside. She wore robes of dark brown and carried a woven basket over one arm. "Hi, can I help you?" he asked politely.

The crone smiled at him toothily. "Hello, dearie, my name's Freud and I was just in the neighbourhood giving out free samples to some of my orchard's produce. We just harvested, you see, and we're trying to make a bit of money to roof our home ever since that storm a little while back tore the guttering off."

"Free samples?" questioned Mirai. The concept of free food had gotten his attention even if the rest of the speech didn't.

"Oh, of course dearie, here's something you should like…" The woman dug around in her basket and produced a strange-looking banana. Not only was it a bit straighter than your usual banana, it was also-

"Pink?" questioned Trunks.

"Yes, a lovely skin tone, wouldn't you agree dear? Quite striking actually…"

Mirai nodded in agreement, but declined to express his thought that it looked like nothing so much as an oversized-

"Would you like to try one?"

The old woman interrupted his thoughts before they could go any further towards destroying the rating of the story.

"Uh, sure … thanks…"

Rather hesitantly, the lilac-haired teenager took the proffered banana and peeled it. Just as his mouth closed over the pink length, he had the strangest sense of déjà vu…

Half a second later he was stretched out flat on the floor.

The old woman smirked. "Stupid monkey," she spat at the motionless form. Swiftly removing the former Princess' clothes, she replaced the tunic and boots with a rather gorgeous dress in a beautiful shade of deep plum. She stood back to admire her handiwork, smirking once again. "Much better," she declared. Leaving the suggestive piece of fruit behind, she picked up her skirts and skipped off, cackling in an extremely female fashion.

~~ooO@Ooo~~