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]

He approves so much!



Although he also feels kind of self-conscious about the fresh new collection of scars on his legs.

[isthisart]

"Are you okay?" Linya asks, pausing in her not-very-ginger snuggling.

[thisvorlunatic]

"Um. Yes. Sorry," he says. "I just - feel even less attractive than usual."

[isthisart]

"Is... there anything to be done about that?" she asks, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close.

[thisvorlunatic]

"I'm sure I'll get used to the new scars eventually," he sighs.

[isthisart]

"I'd hope so. I mean in the short term."

[thisvorlunatic]

"Not so much, then, no."

[isthisart]

"All right. But I still think you're cute, you know."

[thisvorlunatic]

"Thank you." He hugs her.

[isthisart]

Hug.

She will leave it up to her tiny Barrayaran if he's up for anything else this morning besides minimally tentative snuggles.

[thisvorlunatic]

Apparently he is!

[isthisart]

Yay!

[thisvorlunatic]

Indeed yay.

[isthisart]

So there's that! And that is nice.

Linya goes ahead and engages a dance instructor to teach her standard Barrayaran Vor-social-event party dances. She can, if she pays attention, do them without falling down; they're not as complicated as the ones that haut invent or revise to show off their talents.

And since the Count has previously offered to go over the guest list with her and give her tips on each of the invitees whose names he recognizes, she takes him up on that when the list is more or less final, queuing it up for easy retrieval on her pen and going looking for her father-in-law wherever he may be ensconced.

[on_my_word]

Aral is ensconced in an armchair in the library, with a handheld reader and a glass of wine, presumably reading one of the library's modern book-disks - the case is lying open on a nearby table. He doesn't notice Linya immediately.

[isthisart]

Hmmm. She doesn't have a great sense of how interruptible he is. She makes a point of generating audible footsteps as she continues into the library, vaguely angled in his direction.

[on_my_word]

He looks up.

"Ah - Lady Vorkosigan," he says. "Hello. Has Cordelia updated you on the latest version of the guest list? I think it's getting close to final; we're just going back and forth on a few of the courtesy invitations."

[isthisart]

"She has. Is this a good time to take you up on your offer to go over it with me ahead of time?"

[on_my_word]

"As good as any." He puts down his book, looks around for a seat Linya might take that would be conducive to such a discussion, finds one, and gestures invitingly to it.

[isthisart]

Into this seat goeth Linya. Woggle goeth Linya's pen, and here is the guest list.

[on_my_word]

"Damned convenient, that thing," he observes in passing. "All right, let's see... Gregor you've met. Lord Vorbohn runs the Vorbarr Sultana municipal guard. I'd guess his reaction to you will fall into the 'hostile but polite about it' category. I can at least promise that he's much too fair-minded to do anything petty about you with the municipal guard. Faint praise, I know."

[isthisart]

"It's still good to know... Do reasons for hostility among people on this list get any more specific and perhaps addressable than 'she is a haut-lady, there was that war a while before she was born'? I can neither adjust my ancestry nor travel through time, but if there are other things I can do..."

[on_my_word]

"Some do, some don't. For variety, there's Rulf Vorhalas, who's going to be hostile to you because you're a Vorkosigan, not because you're Cetagandan. But I doubt his feelings will be any more tractable than, say - " He scans down the list from Vorbohn. " - The Vorbrettens, who I doubt will show up at all, for the standard reasons." His eye skips a few lines and he adds, "Oh, and Vorfolse isn't going to come because he has an allergy to conflict; the Vorfolses have a history of ending up on the wrong side, to the point where he's superstitiously afraid to engage in anything resembling politics, let alone get involved when people are disagreeing about hot-button issues. He's one of the courtesy invitations Cordelia and I have been debating."

[isthisart]

"What are the pros and cons of extending him an invitation?" wonders Linya.

[on_my_word]

He half-shrugs. "Not much to be said either way, which is part of why it's hard to decide. If we invite him, he won't show up but he'll notice you exist, which he otherwise might not - it would be an understatement to call him a recluse. If we don't invite him, he's unlikely to notice or care that the party happened at all. Either way, he's not going to get involved."