barrayar | the better space adventure

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the better space adventure

[ Gregor has long since progressed from afraid to bored and straight on through sullen. Just how long were they going to keep him here? Gregor is not accustomed to being kept anywhere he doesn't want to be, and maybe he's led a constrained life but it hasn't been a literal prison. And okay, so it's a little high-handed of him to be entitled about this, but he thinks he's entitled to know his future.

Yet no one answers his polite or his frustrated attempts to ask for answers. No one does anything apart from bring him food while looking harried and eye him dourly before leaving. He's started to get gross. He needs a shower, badly. He's washed his face and hair in the sink in his cell multiple times but it's just not the same and he's not used to these conditions.

Also, the boredom really is driving him insane. He's taken to composing sonnets in his head. He hates sonnets. He hates all that rigid structure in poetry, it's asinine and archaic. That's how bored he is, how craving stimulation and challenge.

When the door open, he startles upright, eyes wide. This is off schedule; he's already been fed today. ]

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[ Miles, meanwhile, busies himself with Bel and the Ariel. A quick getaway is decided on for now; Miles needs to get Gregor away before Oser realizes just what it is he's lost. That ignorance won't hold forever. Miles can only hope that it will hold long enough for Miles to get Gregor to Earth. From there ... he has no idea. Even after a few rounds of pacing in his cabin, he's not sure what to do.

More pressing is the subject of Bel himself. Gregor is the one he's determined to capture, having half fallen in love with Emperor Gregor in just those few days. Bel, though ... Bel is a pleasant distraction. On he should engage with sooner rather than later if he doesn't want to encroach on Gregor. Eh. Not today, at least.

For now, he sits on the bed in the cabin, waiting for Gregor to finish with his howr. He's dying to hear more about this Gregor's life - to make comparisons and really dig into this new person in front of him. Even figuring him out platonically was bound to be fascinating. ]

[ Gregor, meanwhile, almost doesn't appreciate how much more human he feels after his shower (with actual water, not sonics) until after he's out. He spends the whole thing washing on rote, trying to process just what he's doing. Yet no matter how he twists it, all he can find is a sort of incredulous excitement, an anticipation for finally, for once in his life, doing something risky and spontaneous, that's just for him and not for Barrayar.

For him. Miles Vorkosigan is for him. His brain can't wrench past that thought, fixated somehow in a way he can't interpret.

Gregor dries himself off (with sonics, not with cloth, unfortunately) and reclothes himself in the same clothes he's had on for over a week, which were serviceable and unremarkable at first and now smell faintly of stale sweat. Well. It's what he has. He'll have to ask about that later.

He steps out of the bathroom still attempting to gather himself and somewhat at loose ends. Gregor is not used to having to be a commanding presence, much less in control of any given conversation. He barely gives two direct orders a year. ] ... Lord Vorkosigan? [ This time in English. Safe enough to start with just his name and see where he goes. ]

[ Miles gets up, knowing little about etiquette other than he probably shouldn't sit in front of an Emperor? Or something like that. Anyway, he feels a bit more imposing like that himself. Gregor, he decides, improves nicely with the aid of a shower. ]

Yeah, that's me. [ His accent is incredibly flat and Betan in English. While he could affect an accurate accent ... it seems unnecessary. ] You all cleaned up, Prince?

[ It seems to Gregor to just be basic politeness for Miles to stand, but here he shakes his head. ] Everything but my clothes. And just my name, please. You might have sworn to me but I'd rather not have who I am getting around. ImpSec is going to catch up with me eventually, and will have a completely different set of loyalties than you.

[ He sounds dour and unenthused by the end. For now, he's going on faith that Miles will be conforming to what is expected of someone that's sworn loyalty-- though that is on the agenda to go over. To make sure this incredibly Betan sounding man understands what he's agreed to. Gregor is still skeptical. Perhaps partly skeptical because... no one ever singles him out enough to do things like that. ]

[ Miles glances between himself and Gregor, doing a mental size comparison. No, he definitely can't share, despite his own uniform being a hair too large for himself. It would still look absolutely ludicrous on this Barrayaran prince. ]

Gregor, then. I don't want ImpSec to take you either.

[ And now that he's stood, he figures he's done with being polite and flops back onto his bunk instead. Gesturing for Gregor to sit too, if he likes. ]

Clothes, though ... that's a tougher fix. You might have to borrow a blanket while we clean that set.

[ Not even ImpSec, hm? Interesting. That part seems not rooted in loyalty but something else. More of this alternate-him nonsense?

Gregor has a long pause as he digests how to not act like a scandalized debutante in response before he sits, quite properly, down near the foot of the bed, back straight. ] I'd rather not sit around having you prove your sanity with me in a blanket, thank you.

Your loss. And mine.

[ He says with a teasing lilt of his eyebrows. But he doesn't move closer just yet so that Gregor can have his space. ]

But yes, proving my sanity. I admit that's going to be difficult without the powers I had.

[ His loss? Just reflexive Betan flirting with everything that moves? God, he hopes so.

Now he's eyeing him with renewed skepticism. ] Well, go on. Might as well have the whole absurd tale out at once.

Well. LIke I said, it happened during a jump. I awoke on Earth in the early 21st century, in a version where everyone from the nexus came from a strange alternate version where I'd been raised on Barrayar and you were Emperor. And we all have superpowers. That part was from Earth, though, not the Nexus.

... And you're sure this wasn't a jump hallucination? A weird reaction?

[ Yeah, he's clearly not buying it. ]

I'm very certain. I've had all the jump pilot tests run - there's no chance I imagined it.

Mostly because I came back wearing this livery. I'd had it on when I was last there.

What?

[ Because-- that is actual proof. Gregor stares at him, starting to grow unnerved rather than incredulous. ]

And... I know you've never been to Barrayar. It'd cause an enormous stir. So where did you-- [ It's not like they sell Vorkosigan livery, uh, anywhere these days. Livery in general has to be custom tailored, but those colors aren't even in use outside of Vorkosigan's District. ]

[ And they are nearly perfect, having not been made on Barrayar proper ... but commissioned by Aral himself. ]

... Yes. Yes, that's exactly right. I would have made a scene.

[ He touches the silver piping on the uniform fondly, reverently. ]

It's one of Father's, actually. He's a couple inches taller than me, but it still fits well enough.

[ He is a couple inches taller, but--

Falteringly, ] You still could've had them commissioned elsewhere. And you still haven't answered what you want with me.

Pretty sure ImpSec would have picked up on any kind of commission like that.

[ But - right, the real question. Miles isn't sure how to answer that without sounding crazy. Maybe he shouldn't try... ]

Honestly? I fell in love with the other version of you, a little. So - regardless of what kind of person you are, you deserve a chance not to be trapped. And definitely not held hostage.

[ Would they? Gregor is not that familiar with the workings of ImpSec. They seem as monolithic and impenetrable to him as Simon Illyan's composure, one naturally leading to the other.

It actually takes a long moment for this to process. ] You what? [ Now he feels uncomfortable-- highly uncomfortable-- skin prickling. ] I... thank you for springing me, [ he says stiffly, ] but I don't know you at all.

I know. [ The answer is prompt and practical. ] And don't think for a moment this rescue is contingent on anything except you continuing to want to be rescued. That is not the note I want to start our relationship out on.

[ And he means it, fervently. Would Miles rather sleep with him? Hell fucking yes. But a glorious platonic relationship seems just as exciting and wonderful in this case. ]

[ Gregor still can't manage to believe this is the whole story on his motives, but he also doesn't think he'll get anywhere on that through direct questioning, so fine. That's enough to be going on for now. ]

... You said I was Emperor? Was I older?

[ Not a good rabbit hole to go down, probably. Speaking of which ... Miles bites his lip, trying to figure out how to phrase this. ]

No, the same age. But your mother had been dead for a couple decades. And Father never married her.

Mother was dead?

[ That's... nearly impossible to imagine. Indeed, he looks rattled, and instantly recovers some his resistance to this whole story. ]

If you got to know him well enough to fall 'a little bit in love with him', [ he says with a tinge of sardonicism, masking his discomfort, ] then you must know something about him that isn't public knowledge.

[ Miles blinks at that, uncertain. Is this poor version of himself hiding something? Gregor hadn't much seemed like it ... ]

What would that be, Gregor?

[ Gregor folds his arms and looks firmly unruffled. ]

Was he receptive to you? What was he like?

[ This seems like a non sequitor, but what he's trying to get at is what hardly anyone knows: that he doubts he's interested in that sort of thing at all. And not with men. That would be ridiculously inappropriate, and just set himself for all sorts of problems as the crown prince. Especially... now that he knows about his father. ]

[ Miles is still baffled but - as always, direct in a way that only a Betan could be. ]

Friendly. Concerned. He was already madly in love with the other version of myself, the one that grew up on Barrayar, so really I was dealing with his affections rather than the other way around. Most importantly though - he wanted to make sure any version of the man he loved was safe.

[ Oh. That... wasn't what he was expecting. He doesn't know how to take that. There's something substantiating Miles's story more than any concrete proof: the natural, unhesitating way in which he says all these plausible things, and acts confused when Gregor points out inconsistencies. Like he doesn't know the answer either. People who tell the truth are always fine with having holes pointed out, because they don't expect themselves to know. And Gregor is good at knowing when people are being truthful, just fundamentally good at it, and he's starting to be unable to ignore what this is saying here.

But it's impossible. From the dimension-jumping to the powers to him being madly in love with anyone. It's all impossible.

He looks away. ] He had no problems at all with you being a man? If he's Emperor, he must marry.

[ There's something else going on here, Miles can sense it. Some deep hurt, some desperate hesitation... It goes deeply, shot all through this version of Gregor. But he can't quite place what it is yet. Perhaps if he continues to talk, Gregor will tell him outright. ]

Yes, I'm pretty sure he will. Glad my alternate's getting into that and not me. I'd rather elope if I have to marry.

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