[ february ii log ]

[barrayarmods]

Who: Everyone
What: Traitors exposed, celebrations had, sleight hands passing cards under the table. And so begin the preparations for what is soon to come.
When: February 18th - 28th
Where: Barrayaran camp / Cetagandan base
Warnings: Torture (interrogations thread)

Quick links:
Riverfall
Barrayar: Barrayaran camp / Party / Missions
Cetaganda: Cetagandan base / Moon-poetry party / Missions

The harsh weather rages on, which temperatures still averaging far below freezing, and the wind is still strong. But things are a little less dire for the outsiders, and for the exotics -- well, they have their own chills to deal with.

riverfall
Riverfall village is your typical Dendarii mountain village, which means it's small, humble, and mostly poor. This is the most rural of the rural around here, a little backwater even by Barrayaran standards. Most of the villagers live in houses of wood and stone built themselves or by ancestors. Despite the cold, there are plenty of people outside at any given time -- working, mostly, because the daily grind stops for no one, but even the occasional group of children taken over by fits of cabin fever. The village is built up against a rocky mountain face, from the top of which the eponymous waterfall flows into the river that borders the west edge of the village and continues down the mountain. The place isn't exactly hidden, but if you don't know your way around, it'd be hard to find without a native guide.

The villagers are wary of the outsiders at first, even more than the soldiers had been -- the rural Dendarii are as superstitious as they come -- but, slowly convinced of their good intentions, start to warm to them. They're a blunt, hardy people, largely uneducated and tending toward the most extreme of Barrayaran sensibilities, but they are undeniably fierce. The General Count trusts them, so they'll be more or less civil (by Barrayaran standards, anyway), but you might catch the occasional scrutinizing, watchful stare. With Cetagandans in camp and exotics among them, they border on hostile, especially those who are visibly nonhuman. They keep their heads down enough to keep from getting into trouble with the soldiers, but they do not like you at all.

Not everyone in Riverfall speaks English -- Russian is everyone's first language, and only about half the village has any passable command of English. Thankfully, the village's Speaker Yakiv Gura speaks English, if heavily accented. They're clearly stretching to the limit to help the camp, but to the Dendarii, there's no higher act than one in the Count's service, especially when it comes to fighting this war.

barrayar
Even after scoring themselves a little extra food, morale in the camp is at an all-time low. The miserably dangerous weather hasn't let up, food is still heavily rationed, and everyone is still at least a little tired, cold, and hungry all of the time. It doesn't help that they've lost a few soldiers in the last couple of weeks, and in Riverfall, too, some villagers have died of the cold despite their relative warmth and safety, mostly children. This is hardly the first harsh winter they've faced, but that doesn't stop the inexorable loss that comes with it. Some villagers may be somberly putting their loved ones to rest in the village graveyard when the outsiders are in town.

But Piotr finally calls Negri out as a spy sent by his aide-de-camp Captain Ezar Vorbarra, partly to deliver a message and partly to test Piotr, because Ezar loves coy bullshit. However, he does learn that both Ezar and Prince Xav Vorbarra, Olivia and Sonia's father, are en route to Vorkosigan's District with relief supplies from Beta Colony secured by Xav's ambassadorial connections and tireless lobbying. Once Piotr judges it safe to release this information, it bring with it a bit of hope -- and to seal the deal, Piotr and Olivia arrange a celebration of sorts in the village.

Finally outing the ring of reason in the camp helps to bolster morale, too. Vorhalas is interrogated, and the names of his co-conspirators are revealed: Lieutenant Boris Vortala, who killed himself in disgrace shortly after his fast-penta interrogation at ghem-General Zefyst's hand, and their commander Captain Aaron Vorbataille. Vorbataille has, of course, already started to make his escape -- but with the help out of the outsiders, he won't get very far. Once Piotr is satisfied with Vorbataille's interrogation as well, both men are put to execution, but not by beheading as Doctor ghem-Miko: the sentence for treason is death by public starvation and exposure, and in this weather, it doesn't take long. They are publicly and emphatically denounced as traitors with no honor to speak of, sending a very clear message. Although this might seem like a gruesome sight to the outsiders, to the Barrayarans this is simply how it goes, and very few of them are sorry to see these traitors suffer, particularly as Vorhalas was the one responsible for their food shortage in the first place.

Reports from those soldiers and outsiders who were in the village at the same time as the Cetagandan field science team present the General Count with another troubling problem, however: the implications of the Cetagandans building a device that could control this phenomenon are terrifying, particularly to this threadbare resistance movement. But sabotage seems hardly a worthy solution, either. This is the only lead they have on sending the outsiders home, and so many of them have already put their lives on the line for the cause of a planet that otherwise nothing to most of them. There would be no honor in robbing them of their only chance to return home. But whether they should continue to allow the Cetagandans to proceed with their research or try to find a way to copy their plans themselves, a dubiously possible venture at best, weighs heavily on his mind. It only complicates his strategic concerns further, but by his military orders in the next couple of weeks, at least one thing is clear: he wants Cetagandan bodies.

camp
Morale is critically low among the soldiers, particularly after a few casualties during a recent skirmish with a Cetagandan patrol, but spirits definitely begin to lift with news of relief. The soldiers are now more or less accustomed to the outsiders' place in the camp, and they're even starting to become a little friendlier toward them, particularly those who've been involved in the war effort. They might invite outsiders to play card or dice games with them, or share a conversation over an admittedly meager meal, or better still, bond with them in the true Barrarayan form: over a lot of alcohol.

Negri has more or less built himself a niche in the camp, and doesn't look like he's going anywhere any time soon. But he isn't the only spy around. They desperately need a man on the inside, particularly with the troubling news about the wormhole device, and right now, that man is Byerly Vorrutyer. Starting next month, Piotr is sending him on assignment to infiltrate the Cetagandan base under the cover of a cowardly collaborator.

party
By the time they have the party on the 21st, the villagers have warmed up to the outsiders a little, but they don't really bond until the party. With what little they have to share, they scrape together as much of a feast as they can: not much, but by this month's standards, any hot meal prepared with fresh ingredients seems absolutely decadent. And because this is Barrayar there is, of course, plenty of liquor, that Barrayaran moonshine maple mead not the least among them, and there's no shortage of wine or vodka, either.

The hillfolk light lanterns all around the village and raise large tarps to cover the open center of the village where they usually hold gatherings. Inside, protected from the wind and lit by the bonfire and braziers placed around the perimeter, it's actually almost warm. Every villager who's ever laid hand to an instrument seems to gather there to play music all night long, an energetic mix of lively folk music and raucous drinking songs. Anyone with any musical talent would be welcome to join them as well. There's plenty of dancing, too, very little of it formal or complicated, but everyone's having a good time for the first time in weeks, maybe months, and the mood is infectious. By the end of the night, morale seems to have risen overall, and people in camp have something real to look forward to. The partygoing visitors are put up in warmed tents within the tarped village center or in the villagers' homes where they have room. Come morning, they'll head back, but for just one night, it's almost like there isn't even a war on.

missions
Outsiders have been assisting with moving supplies between the camp and Riverfall all throught he rest of the month, and it mostly goes smoothly. Vorbataille is caught on the 20th, although he and Vorhalas aren't publicly executed until a few days later, when Piotr is satisfied with the intelligence he's extracted. By the time he gets Vorbataille's name out of Vorhalas, the traitorous Captain has already fled -- but thanks to Carolina, Duv and Zarya, he's dragged back to camp for his interrogation.

That evening, Maine and William have the misfortune of encountering a dragon -- Darkstalker is on a mission with a Cetagandan patrol, and they run right smack into each other. A fight breaks out, but ultimately Darkstalker and the Cetagandans come out on top, and the outsiders and Barrayarans are forced to retreat -- but not before managing to kill a Cetagandan soldier or two, just barely escaping with one of the bodies.

Miles finds himself in a terrible position when a guard patrol shift goes horribly wrong in a skirmish against some Cetagandans, resulting in the death of their squad leader and a very ugly aftermath.

Zarya, William, Beth and Miles are in Riverfall with some Barrayaran soldiers on a supply run when a Cetagandan field science team arrives with a few exotics in tow. This is a rare chance to learn more about the Cetagandans' scientific exploits, and among other things, they find out that whatever it is that brought them here, the Cetagandan scientists are convincede it has something to do with the wormhole that collapsed 700 years ago.

The unabridged mission writeup is here.

cetaganda
The Cetagandans are a notoriously tight-lipped bunch, but they're blowing away most of the smoke surrounding their wormhole science research. As has been alluded, they're currently working on a device to harness the phenomenon that brought all the exotics here in the first place, and hopefully find a way to send them all home with it. They invite any exotics with scientific expertise to a series of interviews about neurology, astrophysics, and mechanical engineering. None of the advisement they receive helps to solve one of their most critical problems -- that of generating a Necklin field to match the one that must have surrounded each exotic -- but it certainly puts them closer to their goal, particularly in the area of neurology, and they're hardly going to stop there. But it's clear that the mathematicians and astrophysicists on base don't have sufficient expertise to solve the most complex equations before them. But on the brighter side of things, in the interest of this scientific exchange, they're letting the lab techs help a little more beyond just grunt work.

Meanwhile, the genetics project that seems so strange and arcane to the exotic carries on, largely behind the scenes, although Diya is increasingly at odds with her husband and even some of her senior staff, particularly the precocious Amai ghem-Soren. But there is very real purpose behind it -- and far more than just one -- and Diya d'Zefyst is a woman of great ambition. And more than anything else, she is haut.

Unfortunately, the relative peace on base is abruptly broken when Daryl, Lakshmi and Wash all manage to escape in a wild breakout attempt on the 25th. York and Ratchet are left behind, and as a result, some of their privileges revoked. They're now being watched a little more closely as a result.

base
Overall, despite simmering tensions under the surface and the miserable weather, life on base seems to be going more or less smoothly around them. The Cetagandans have had some recent victories against the Barrayarans, so morale is high. Unfortunately, after the breakout they begin cracking down on security with the exotics -- going back to treating the exotics a little more like they did when they first arrived. They aren't under guard, but after the 25th, they are being watched.

They still maintain that insistent veneer of civility, however, breaking only in cases where they feel the need or security risk is significant enough. The ghem on base remain overall cordial and courteous to the exotics as they ever were, which is to say considerably and always with a touch of smug superiority. With her success at the party earlier this month followed by her performance in the moon-poetry garden, the often-sequestered Amai ghem-Soren is seen more around the base.

moon-poetry party
The moon-poetry party is about three hours long and steeped in ceremony, each participant taking their turn to recite. This is, apparently, not a recitation of one's own work, but rather selections of classical Cetagandan poems, and in so referencing something culturally ubiquitous, each makes a statement in its mere selection and juxtapositions. If you pay close enough attention, you might notice that each participant has very subtly coordinated their outfits to further complement the theme of their recitation. Although there is a definite dignity to the party, it doesn't take much to pick up on the fact that this is yet another arena ghem use to try and socially one-up one another. Among the participants are both the Chief Medical Officer Colonel Faro ghem-Naru and Doctor Amai ghem-Soren, whose performance was especially well-received, the theme apparently being something about subtle passions.

missions
The science interviews with the exotics go more or less well, although not quite so hopeful as the Cetagandans were hoping. They do, however, learn some things about FTL travel in other worlds as well as other kinds of neural implants.

On the evening of the 21st, York, Natasha and Kaidan accidentally bear witness to what is clearly some kind of travesty: clearly a human being, but both overgrown and underdeveloped, and exhibiting powers of hydrokinesis and psychic empathy, referred to only as a ba.

On the 23rd, Jasper, Lapis, Pearl and Darkstalker accompany some soldiers and a field science team to Riverfall village, coinciding with a visit from some outsiders and soldiers. They encounter some outsiders while there but also pick up a bit on what it is the Cetagandans are doing -- that the Necklin field problem still remains their biggest problem, and they've been getting conflicting orders from the higher ups lately.

The unabridged mission writeup is here.

Note: Negri and Zahal are available for threads by request only this round. Please hit up Madi or Ammay respectively if you want threads with either of those NPCs. You can also request a thread with Village Speaker Yakiv Gura if you want, in which case hit up Madi.

Comments

[vorbratta]

Sonia's left hanging a moment, a drunk delay before she realizes he's pulled back and she sits down, her brows lowering. She looks a little stricken, but mostly she just looks petulant than anything else, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting outrageously at him.

"Why not?"

[vorrutyer]

Oh, God, she looks cute like that. His heart just about squeezes in his chest at the look. How the hell is he supposed to resist that?

Damn it...

Right. Okay. He has to. This is the best way. This is the best way. Yes. He takes a breath in, sharply, unsteadily, and says to her -

"Because I like men."

[vorbratta]

Sonia narrows her eyes at him, and then her look goes slightly flat, still pouting, her eyes rolling. Sorry, Byerly, she's just a little too Betan.

"Byerly, please," she says, somehow managing to sound both haughty and exasperated in one breath, "you don't really expect me to believe you're monosexual, do you?"

[vorrutyer]

That...wasn't the response he expected. Shock and horror, certainly - he's gotten shock and horror from Barrayarans when he's said that before. Curiosity and understanding, because that's usually what comes from Betans. But from her...

"Ah," he says, taken aback, uncertain, a little thrown by that question. He struggles with the answer to it for a moment, because, well...He can't outright lie to her. So instead he answers, a little evasively - "I am Barrayaran."

i suffered through an entire team meeting waiting to write this tag

[vorbratta]

There it is. That momentary flicker of surprise. Now that's an honest answer. She watches him struggle to wrestle truth out of a half-lie, thrown off balance. You really are terrible at being honest, dear Byerly.

"That's not it, either." She's stubborn, petulant, arms crossed, and that pout is outrageous. Sonia may be naive in many ways, and she may be drunk, but she isn't stupid.

She knows how a Barrayaran would react, and she knows how a Betan would react, but she is a girl caught between two worlds. Byerly's Barrayaran-ness is too familiar to be a novelty, and her own Betan influence refuses to give in to such absurd prejudice. What Byerly gets instead is a rare combination, merciless and unpredictable. She may be a user, yes, but an entirely different breed.

She narrows her eyes at him, but not in anger. She only says softly, "You made a promise to me once."

I suffered through a workshop waiting to respond

[vorrutyer]

Damn it. Damn it all. This isn't how the script ever goes. The script is predictable. Repulsion or open-mindedness. One or the other. Not challenge. Not denial.

The promise...His promise. Right.

"This isn't because you are a princess," he says after a moment, raising his hand to his face, rubbing at his lips. She kissed...well. He'd like to kiss her again. "I promise you that."

the thirst is real

[vorbratta]

She watches him touch his lips, feels a little swell of triumph in her chest, because he hadn't passed through it entirely unfazed. Good. She won't let go of that.

She holds her breath a moment, deciding whether or not to believe him, but he'd called her Sonia -- not milady, not Princess. Just Sonia. She lets out her breath, but still looks entirely dissatisfied with such a meager excuse. She simply doesn't believe that Byerly doesn't want her at all. She's stubborn, eyes blazing, and she leans forward again.

"Then what is it?"

[vorrutyer]

He takes a breath. I will betray you once. I cannot betray you twice. But that's not exactly it, is it? He's fucked people he'd later hand over to Illyan-and-then-Allegre plenty of times. Hell, that's a good part of his job description. So it's not the betrayal that stops him, not truly. It's...

He rubs at his eyes. They ache. He aches. He aches all over.

"I do not," he says, awkwardly, uncertainly, trying to feel this out even as he speaks, "sleep with people I care about."

[vorbratta]

Maybe it's that she's drunk, or perhaps this moment is just awkwardly suspended in time, but the shifts in Sonia's expression unfold with uncomfortable clarity, playing out a slow scene. First she wrinkles her brow and opens her mouth for a scoff, but then the words sink in, painfully slow, and for a moment she almost looks stricken. Her eyes, narrowed to slits, go wide and dark, her mouth half-closing, but lips still parted enough to draw in a sharp breath. Her shoulders slacken, her crossed arms falling into her lap like a marionette with its strings cut. She has the distinct sensation of her ribs caving in.

For a moment she can't look at him at all -- not angry, not haughty. The flush to her cheeks, the awkward swallow and her sudden dry mouth, those have nothing to do with the wine. But she forces herself to look back up at Byerly, because as mortifying as this is, she can't bear to just speak to her lap. She clasps her hands together tightly and looks back up at him with her dark eyes, trying for a slight smile, but it quails and falls prey to the chagrin.

"That was sort of the novelty of it," she says, unable to drum up any false cheer or cheek. She can't even quite keep her voice from shaking. Because it is a novelty. The others, they're strangers, every one of them. None of them really knew her, and it all hung on that. And now she sits here, drunk and feeling colossally stupid.

[vorrutyer]

Oh. God. He can't bear to listen to that tremble in her voice. His throat closes, in grief, in guilt. You piece of shit, Byerly. You piece of shit.

He does the only thing he can think of, then. He reaches out and grabs her, and draws her in close. He is Byerly Vorrutyer, and therefore practiced at embraces, but this is...a different sort of embrace. Nothing sexual about it. No caresses. Instead, it's sentimental and soft, a grasp of comfort and adoration instead of a grasp of seduction. He strokes her hair gently, and presses her against his chest.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I just...can't. It's not something I'm capable of. It's not something I...deserve."

[vorbratta]

For just a fraction of a second, when he grabs her, Sonia thinks he might kiss her -- but he gathers her in close against his chest instead, her cheek pressed to the front of his coat, her face obscured by her mass of dark hair. Her eyes betray her then, tears leaking into the fabric despite herself. She wraps her arms around his middle, holding on tight, because God does she need the comfort, even if it wasn't the kind she was seeking. Some small, distant part of her is offended, indignant that he would deny her this, but she can hardly reach it. She's swept up in the afterwash of having actually put words to that want, that almost-need, and she feels humiliated for it. Not because of Byerly, just -- God. She's made such an ass of herself.

But even so, she jerks back just enough to look up at Byerly, brow knit. She sniffles. "What? What are you talking about? I thought you just..." She realizes she's tightly gripping a fistful of Byerly's jacket and loosens her grasp, still trying to find her breath. "Why would you think that?"

[vorrutyer]

That's what she latches onto? Out of all the things? Guilt, further guilt twists in his stomach. No, this isn't what she needs. This isn't what she needs. Damn it all. Byerly's specialty has always been giving people exactly what they need. A debauched lover, a drinking buddy, a punching-bag, a pimp and procurer, a devil on the shoulder, a spy - he's simply good at knowing what people want and becoming that thing for them. He was good at being what Sonia needed, too - a flirt, a friend, a listening ear. Why is he faltering now? Now, the last time that he can be anything at all to her - the last time he can be anything except a source of pain - he can't do it right.

"It doesn't matter," he says, his voice rough. "I simply don't deserve your care. Save love for someone deserving." He lifts his hand to her face, thumb caressing her cheekbone. "You'll find someone deserving."

[vorbratta]

Her lashes are wet with tears, but she doesn't flinch away from his touch in the slightest. Her hands shift to his arms, pushing herself up a little more, but she doesn't pull away.

"Love?" She looks genuinely thrown for a moment. "I'm not in love with you, Byerly. That isn't what this is about. You are a dear friend. Someone I trust. Someone who knows me and doesn't shy away. And I just thought that maybe, just once, I could..."

She feels hideously embarrassed all over again, her stomach twisting. She bites her lip, hard, her expression shifting to something bitter and stung, but not from Byerly.

"And who among them has ever been deserving anyway?" Her voice is taut, trying not to crack again. "None of them knew a thing about me. Just a tryst with whoever I could get away with. It isn't about love." She bites the inside of her cheek. "If you're not deserving, then none of them were."

[vorrutyer]

Oh. Well. He didn't really think she was in love with him, obviously, though it's not exactly flattering how dismissive she is of the idea. Ah,well. He clears his throat, and tilts his head to the side in acknowledgment, and goes on.

"It's more than just the relationship between us. It is..." He hesitates, and in the absence of any more concrete arguments, has to fall back on empty meaninglessness and cliches. He doesn't know any other way to do it, aside from repeating the stupidity from the Romantic stories he so often disdains. "It's myself. I don't deserve your friendship, either, Sonia. I don't deserve any of it. You ought to have someone good, not someone..." He struggles a moment, then says, "Degraded. Miles would make a fine friend for you. Even Duv Galeni the Komarran - a fine and honorable man, in spite of his obvious shortcomings. Not myself."

[vorbratta]

Don't feel too bad, Byerly, that's her general response to the concept of being in love. Oh, it sounds nice enough on paper -- and it isn't as though she doesn't believe in it -- she's seen her sister and Piotr, and as much as she questions Olivia's taste, she knows it's real. She's done things in the name of love, sure. Just not for herself. Never for herself. Love in wartime is just someone else to lose.

Her eyes well up with tears again despite herself, and her brows draw down into a look of almost resentment. "You don't get to tell me who or what I deserve," she says, and she might even sound distantly angry if her voice wasn't still trembling. "Miles is my friend, and he's a good man. But he isn't you. He doesn't -- he doesn't understand. Not really. You're the only one who does."

She doesn't need to specify what it is he understands. He knows. Knows that sharing the fantasy of his Vorbarra Sultana could almost sustain her in a way, that she doesn't fit in on this Barrayar, never has, and no less than in wartime. She blinks despite trying not to and tears roll down her cheeks. She ducks her head and stares at her hands, her lap, anything but Byerly.

"Besides," she starts again thickly, "you don't know everything about me, Byerly. You don't know some of the things I've done."

[vorrutyer]

He does understand. He understands exactly what he understands. And that's what makes him want to strangle Miles, Piotr, both of them - they don't get it. They assume that his only interest is sleeping with her - that he's convinced that she's swooningly head over-heels-for him - and they talk about how it's fine, women have survived having their hearts broken. But this goes deeper than a broken heart. It's...It's like burning down a home. It's painting a fantasy of a better life, a better world, and then shattering it in front of her. The cruelty goes far, far beyond a scoundrel's betrayal.

The first statement isn't what gives him pause. No. That second, though -

What she's done? Byerly's brows draw down in confusion. What on earth could that mean? "I hope," he says, a little uncertainly, "that you don't take me for the sort of man who would be shocked and appalled by someone's sexual exploits. Especially a woman's."

IM SORRY ABOUT THIS FUCKING NOVEL

[vorbratta]

Sonia shakes her head. "No," she says quietly. "No, I don't think that at all."

Because Byerly is the last person who would be. And she doesn't even necessarily think he'd be shocked and appalled by what she's going to tell him now, either. He might even laugh at it. One depraved act, after all, does not make one a complete degenerate. But she feels, suddenly, that it is important for him to know, with all this talk of depravity and deserving. She doesn't think of herself as a degenerate, not the way Byerly does, but he does think of her as some kind of innocent, naive. And she is. But not entirely in this fashion. And if she's going to feel mortified at herself this evening -- well, might as well get it all out.

"Five years ago," she starts, and she lifts her gaze back to Byerly's face before it drops again, "when my sister was my age, and I was eighteen...we were back in Vorbarra's District then. And our father and the Emperor-our-grandfather had decided that Olivia was at a perfectly marriageable age, and started lining up the best of the Counts' heirs, because only the best for the oldest Princess, right? Only...she loved Count Piotr. I knew that. But Da, he shot that notion right now, just because he didn't like Count Piotr's politics."

She frowns in memory, trying to swallow, but finding it suddenly difficult. "She didn't want to marry any of them. But she would have. She's so -- she's so Vor. But I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let her just throw away her one chance at happiness, at real happiness in this stupid war. And I couldn't bear the thought of her being -- taken away from me." That part had been utter selfishness, though, hadn't it? That she couldn't stand to lose her sister to some faceless Vor lord she hardly even knew? Because she knows Count Piotr, even if she hadn't liked him much. She knew she could trust him, and that she wouldn't lose her sister to him entirely.

"So I thought...if Da wouldn't let her marry Count Piotr, then I'd make sure none of the others wanted to marry her." She bites her lips together, almost managing a weak smile. "Most of them weren't too difficult to scare off. A few well-placed lies about things they either couldn't prove either way or wouldn't dare to ask about. Some of them I drove off by mere threat of being the most heinous sister-in-law they could possibly imagine. But..."

She sucks in a sharp breath, reeling back tears threatening to escape. God, she feels so silly, so foolish, about -- all of this. "Count Vorbataille's son, he just...nothing worked on him. Because he was a good man, I suppose -- and not hideous or crude or anything, and so Olivia thought she could...learn to love him." She just about spits those words out. The thought makes her sick. "But I couldn't let it happen. I just couldn't. So I did the only other thing I could think of. The only other thing I was good at. I manipulated him, tricked him until he was backed into a corner and could hardly say no by then."

She hadn't enjoyed it. For the first time in her life, she hadn't enjoyed it at all. But she'd done it willingly. "He called off the marriage. I knew he would." Sonia's voice starts to waver again, and she blinks back tears. "I just...didn't think he would tell anyone why."

this lurid victorian novel

[vorrutyer]

This is all - Goodness. The last thing he expected was a story starting five years ago. The last thing he expected was something about Olivia. He blinks at the start of the story, and blinks through the first few lines. And then he settles in to listen.

He doesn't interrupt, not until she falters at the last. He just reaches out, then, to take her hand and press it. Reassuringly. Firmly. He asks, prompting her - "Your...reputation was damaged, I suppose?"

it really is

[vorbratta]

Sonia grips Byerly's hand back, tight as she can, feeling suddenly ill. She...never admits to this, not to how she felt, not about this part. The best part came after, when Piotr and Olivia were married, and Da was furious about it but by then he couldn't do a thing about it, and Grandfather approved of Piotr in the end, so...

She lets out a shaky breath that might have been a laugh, or a scoff. "His more than mine. It's Barrayar. You know how it goes -- it's always some salacious Vorling lusting after a woman above his station..." She makes a disgusted noise. "Lord Vorbataille really was a good man. More than I estimated. He...he went straight to my father the next day. Told him what he'd done, how ashamed he was to have stolen a Princess's honor. And I did that to him."

She swallows again, and finally looks back up at Byerly. "And I was all smug about it the next day, too. Thought I'd pulled off the neatest trick in the world. Thought I was so clever. Until Da came in, and he -- he was furious. Asked me if I had been prepared for a man to die for my own foolishness. My selfishness."

[vorrutyer]

"Die?" Good God. Byerly stares. "Is sleeping with a princess really a capital crime in this - " Era, he almost said era. Careful, careful... "Version of Barrayar?" He tries desperately to remember his Occupation and Time of Isolation history. He...was never much of a student of history. Or much of a student, for that matter. Skipping class to drink out in the woods was always his scholastic activity of choice.

"I should think it would be...a disgrace, but not something to kill a man for."

[vorbratta]

Sonia returns Byerly's surprise with confusion, but it doesn't last long, washed away by tears.

"It can be." She sniffles and leans back against Byerly, her cheek pressed to his shoulder. She feels...bad about disclosing this, somehow, but she doesn't know if she necessarily regrets it. She just feels more naked right now than she's ever been with a man. "If the politics are right, or -- wrong. Not always. It isn't treason. But I'm Vorbarra. Taking to bed an Imperial Princess out of wedlock, and one more than ten years his junior at that? Barrayarans. It might as well be rape to them, if only in the sense of one's honor."

She sounds resentful, and she is. But she slackens against him, closing her eyes. "He wasn't executed. My father knew he didn't deserve to die for a mistake I made. Besides, Da thought it would better save face if he married me instead. I cried. I begged him not to make me do it. That seemed a fate so much worse than anyone's death. I didn't want to get married, least of all to him. I didn't -- I didn't even like him."

[vorrutyer]

Byerly is Vor enough to cough, "You? Married? To a Vorbataille?"

He shakes his head a moment later, saying, "It didn't happen. Obviously." His voice, for what it is worth, is unjudgmental. Not approving, not disapproving, just neutral. Curious. Firm. Nothing worse than that.

[vorbratta]

And Sonia's just Vor enough to mutter, "I know," in response, but she just tucks herself closer against him, heaving a sigh. She thought maybe telling Byerly this would lift some great weight off her chest, but it hasn't. He's just someone who knows. Maybe that's enough.

She shakes her head in response, her voice slightly muffled. "No. Only by Olivia's grace, and...my father's, I suppose. But I ruined that man, Byerly." She squeezes her eyes shut. "And then they sent us back to Vorkosigan's District, ostensibly because Vorbarra's District wasn't safe enough for us anymore. But I know that's not the only reason. I was just causing too much trouble, Uncle Yuri said. He thought I ought to marry Lord Vorbataille. Said that at least -- " A bitter snarl creeps into her voice, and she shakes slightly against Byerly. "If I had any children, they'd at least know who the father was."

[vorrutyer]

Yuri. Uncle Yuri. Uncle Yuri, who one day will send assassins after this girl in his arms, against her sister. Against their children. Unconsciously, his grip tightens, squeezing her close, as though the embrace of his arms can save her from that future.

If I killed him... He wonders. High treason, that would be. Exposure and starvation. But if I killed him...

That's...for later. That is something for later, once the Cetagandans are taken care of. Sonia and Olivia need to survive this war to be able to even be at risk from their piece of shit mad uncle, after all. He speaks with flat practicality. "He's an idiot," By responds flatly. He pulls back just a bit to confirm, "You grew up on Beta. You have a contraceptive implant, don't you?"

Then he shakes his head and reaches out to push a lock of hair from her face. "Look. My dearest. Let me speak to you frankly, as a man," he says. "I know the propaganda is that we're all victims of our own cocks. Controlled by them. Enslaved to them. But that's a great lot of rot. If Vorbataille slept with you, it's because he wanted to sleep with you, not because you victimized him. And if he went on to disgrace himself by chattering about it, then he's a damned idiot. He's not a good man. He's a dim man. And frankly, someone that incredibly stupid has no place in Vorbarr Sultana. Thank God you had him banished from the Emperor's confidences. Good lord."

[vorbratta]

Sonia nods in response to his question, brow knit, because she knows it's not a problem or else even she wouldn't be irresponsible enough to keep picking up soldiers. That had made it sting even worse, somehow. But then, everything Yuri ever said to her stung just a little.

He brushes the hair from her face and she holds his gaze with red-rimmed eyes, still wet with tears. It's not as though she's forgotten what it was like to live in a place without such ridiculous sexual double standards, but when it's all you have, when you're entrenched in them... Aside from her sister, Sonia's never heard this from a Barrayaran, let alone a Barrayaran man. She hiccups and then quite abruptly bursts into tears again, pressing her face to Byerly's shoulder, but this time, at least, there's something less horribly devastated about it.

"I've never had an honest fuck in my life," Sonia mumbles into Byerly's coat. Surprisingly enough, she doesn't curse often, but she's drunk and this is -- a hell of a something. She sniffles again. "I'm sorry I tried to kiss you."