line dance

[isthisart]

Linya settles thoroughly in. The rest of her Barrayaran clothes filter in and she mixes and matches in Alys-approved ways. Cordelia continues to be welcoming; the Count continues to be more or less awkward (though she does catch him stifling a laugh the first time she has occasion to scoop up her husband in his presence). Tsipis continues to be marvelously helpful; between them they pick a factory that will be able to make pens for a reasonable bid, and she goes in to visit and makes sure they have everything right and decides what colors the chassis ought to come in (four standard colors, a dozen more available as custom order with optional engraving). She asks Cordelia what color she wants hers; since she doesn't want a complicated nib-end she can have the first one off the production line. For the complicated-nib version, Linya is still studying optics. She writes a letter to a local manufacturer of holoprojectors to see if they have any insight. She wraps up her study of Greek and starts on French - French, she already knew, but this is a different dialect with peculiar Barrayaran Cyrillic spelling rules, so it still requires nonzero effort.

Oh, and she snuggles her tiny Barrayaran. And makes music and has groats for breakfast roughly every other day.

Setting a date for a groat-related wedding as opposed to a groat-related breakfast is a little complicated, but they are formally, as it were, engaged.

Comments

[thisvorlunatic]

"Well, then, it remains a mystery."

[isthisart]

"Perhaps I will go visit their office and see. It's reasonably likely there are some female-type people on this planet who are not related to you who would be friends with me. Why, I haven't even been to any Vorish social functions yet to distinguish between who runs screaming at my approach and who is reasonably well-convinced that I don't bite, let alone identify those with interesting areas of expertise and limited prejudices."

[thisvorlunatic]

"Maybe we should host one," Miles says whimsically. "A Vorish social function, that is. Come Meet The New Lady Vorkosigan, We Promise She's Harmless?"

[isthisart]

"Come one, come all, behold as Lady Vorkosigan eats twice her share of hors d'oeuvres and does not at any time prove to be venomous?"

[thisvorlunatic]

"Yes. Perfect. Just as soon as I can wobble along on my own two feet without the intervention of heavy painkillers. I'm sure having you carry me would be adorable, but I'm not sure my dignity could bear the strain."

[isthisart]

"Your dignity seems very fragile. Perhaps that should be replaced next," she teases.

[thisvorlunatic]

Miles giggles. "Alas, medical science has not yet learned how to synthesize them."

[isthisart]

"Perhaps that will have to be my next project. Synthetic dignity. On second thought, overdoses would be a disaster."

[thisvorlunatic]

"And the potential for addiction has got to be vast."

[isthisart]

"Yes. Dignity abuse, the scourge of our age. I will not invent it in consumable form. You will have to make do."

[thisvorlunatic]

"But my need is so great! I demand reparations for your failure to act. A hug should do." He holds out his arms.

[isthisart]

"I am glad that your needs are so easily filled." Huggle.

[thisvorlunatic]

Snuggle-huggle. "It's not that my needs are especially easy to fill, it's that your hugs are especially restorative."

[isthisart]

"Perhaps I should have traipsed about hugging every patient in the hospital, just in case it was the key ingredient to recovery."

[thisvorlunatic]

"Damn! Well, too late now. You're needed here." Huggle-snuggle.

[isthisart]

"Yes, it would be very callous of me to abandon you." Snugs.

[thisvorlunatic]

Miles stifles a yawn, and considers possible responses, and settles on a sleepy, "I love you."

[isthisart]

"I love you too."

Linya continues to keep him company and work on a "how to map gestures to inputs" pen user tutorial, until she finds that he has fallen asleep at around the time she means to eat dinner. She slips out to get some food; he can have something sent up later.

[greatcomposure]

She's just in time to join Aral and Cordelia for an informal meal, which Cordelia has assured her she has a standing invitation to do.

"Hello, Linyabel. How's Miles?"

[isthisart]

"Napping. Reportedly, less surly than he normally is when convalescing."

[greatcomposure]

"Good for Miles."

[isthisart]

"Yes. ...Earlier, in discussing the quandary of finding a feasible Second for me who is neither related to my husband nor of an inappropriate gender, we came up with the only mostly facetious idea of some kind of social event to demonstrate that I don't bite; I don't know how feasible that would be."

[greatcomposure]

"I think it's perfectly reasonable," says Cordelia. "It could be very helpful for sorting people into categories like 'openly hostile', 'tacitly approving', and 'undecided', and maybe even reaching a few of that last group."

[isthisart]

"It should wait until he can comfortably walk, at least, and possibly also until I've had a crash course in wooing the uncertain."

[greatcomposure]

"Sensible. We'll see how fast he's recovering, then, so we know how to schedule things. As for your crash course... I'm all for it, but did you have an instructor in mind?"