video; un: eproghuefgdzptrrw

[vorrutyer]

[ Byerly Vorrutyer is sitting in front of a piano, fingers on the keys. Byerly Vorrutyer is also, apparently, drunk. There's a bottle of brandy in front of him balanced beside the music rack that's two-thirds drained, and there's a tiny sway in his posture, and he looks sloppy - suit coat opened, shirt-collar loosened. When he speaks, his voice slurs. But as he talks, he plays Chopin beautifully, expressively. He only misses the very occasional note. ]

God help me, but this place is dull. And I know from dull. I spent an entire season - an entire season! - on the Vorinnis estate on the South Continent. If Lady Vorinnis hadn't been there to distract me with all her deliciousness, I'd have actually, literally, died of boredom. I nearly set fire to the whole taiga. Roasted all the little birdies and rabbits and peasants. Pheasants. Peasants. Whichever.

[ He sighs mournfully, casting a sorrowful glance at the camera. ]

Say, fellows, how does a man have fun around here? It's clear no one knows how to play whist, so that's out, and dueling for laughs seems tacky. I've already watched a few of you brutes bash one another's faces in, which had its charms and no doubt, but the time for that is over. I can't play bed, wed, behead with you, because you're all proles of no account and no education who wouldn't know the high-society names I mention to you. Oh!

[ He sits up a bit, stopping his playing mid-note, right before the end of the first section of the piece. What a musical anticlimax. ]

I've got one. I'll write limericks about you. Tell me a bit about yourself, and I'll write limericks. Go on, do. They'll be funny, I promise - this is one of my favorite games. Absolutely kills at parties.

[ And then, with a small bow - ]

Byerly Vorrutyer, Emperor of Barrayar, at your lyrical service.

Comments

[vorrutyer]

[ His smile twists just a little. ]

No. I simply wished to play this one. It felt right for the moment.

[priorly]

Drunk and nostalgic?

[Or one more or less than the other, who knows. He's swayed on his stool less since the feed switched to Prior.]

If you've a favorite, I'll turn you up.

[vorrutyer]

Mm. Do you have any requests, dear Prior?

[priorly]

I'd hoped for yours. I do like the Chopin, though. Just knowing that it survived through all those ages has left me quite endeared to it. I find myself drawn to things that do. Hence the lady Gloria.

[Of Gaynor, aforementioned.]

What would make a pretty backdrop for the click of scissors?

[vorrutyer]

Hm. Ah - perhaps something my nanny was fond of.

[ And so he takes a breath and starts laying into Kalinka like the space Russian he is. ]

[priorly]

[He is good, and Prior's quiet to appreciate it, until the end when the feed changes to video to afford him the chance to clap. He looks brighter today, and not just because there's a luridly yellow cloth tied around his neck.]

Wonderful. If I close my eyes it's nothing but snow and dancers in red skirts spinning like tops.

[vorrutyer]

Ah!

[ Byerly smiles at the sight of him. ]

There's your pretty face. I'd missed it.

[priorly]

Oh never mind that - the framing, how's the framing. [His hair. Prior tips and turns his head to the side until it's (possibly) evident that he's done more to it than wash out the sweat of a couple of feverish nights. Just a small trim.]

[vorrutyer]

Oh - did you get a haircut?

[priorly]

You noticed.

[He's nothing if not willing to lead the horse to water so long as it drinks.]

A little touch up. I've wanted to feel more like myself so - this, and shopping. [A minor tour of the city's various quack shacks, all of which were abandoned with no real information gleaned.] One should get to know ones locale.

[vorrutyer]

[ Yes, he noticed. Definitely using those special ImpSec skills and training, definitely not because Prior was preening. ]

And who was your hairdresser? I've been looking for a good one myself.

[priorly]

A sweet lady in a salon off the western square, I'll show you sometime. There are barbers, of course, but find me one of those who knows how to feather ends. Besides which, no one talks when it's all men, and try and I might I have never mastered the art of grunting as communication.

[vorrutyer]

Oh, I'll have to teach you sometime. It's quite a sophisticated system - that's the problem.

[priorly]

If we live in the same house I'm sure I'll come to be able to translate them all, in time. At any rate, I feel cleaner, and I now know whose flour is ground with sawdust, the state of at least three sadly collapsing marriages, and that the little girls from three streets over have been hired to work at the palace.

[Casual as you please. He's paying most attention to unwinding his scarf and shaking it out to remove any prickles.]

[vorrutyer]

[ His voice remains light, but there's a sharpness in his eye. ]

Oh, really? To work in what capacity?

[priorly]

[And Prior looks up just long enough to notice it, the faintest quirk to one corner of his mouth.]

Ladies attendants I think. Dressing and grooming and all - they start them young here.

[vorrutyer]

Well, it's not an easy job. I could see why training would be necessary. Though I wish they'd hire me - I'm perfectly good at dressing and grooming and all.

[priorly]

And here I thought reputable employ was an anathema. Sadly you may be a little tall, and look fractionally less sweet skipping along in pigtails.

I almost think could become more interested in the court gossip than I imagined. It's like Dynasty with a bigger lily pond.

[vorrutyer]

Ah, it's the grandest of pastimes. Here, I can teach you all the best ways to gossip. It was most of my day, back home, trading gossip.

[priorly]

[Now isn't that quaint. Scarf wound neatly round his wrist, Prior settles back in front of the screen with a kind of long-suffering amusement.] Honestly, Byerly it's almost as if you've never met a homosexual in your life. Some things you can nuture, but to some one is simply born.

[vorrutyer]

[ Hey now. ]

Court gossip is different. A different set of skills.

[priorly]

Different courts. Your skills could be as esoteric as mine.

[vorrutyer]

Nothing of the sort. A court is a court. The precise forms of politeness may differ, but the overarching rules stay the same.

[priorly]

Precise forms of politeness. One more reason there are no royal courts where I'm from.

[But Prior is listening. In the end he always does and - knowing less of Byerly than the other man does of him - hearing something of the world he walked in isn't anything to be brushed off.]

And you're talking about more than knowing when to curtsey and which spoon to use for the soup?

[vorrutyer]

[ With a little twitch of his mouth: ]

I am, as a matter of fact. I'm talking about knowing how to please a despot.