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[ 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.

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Perhaps if you try hard enough.

[ A little gleam lights in his eye. Don't challenge him on this... ]

Well, first, I need to know what sorts of things are offensive to you. I know nothing of your culture, you see.

[ he hums. ]

Confectioneries.

[ Hah. His lip curls up in amusement. ]

Confectioneries. Then shudder, dear fellow, in fear and scandal, because I will go right now and eat up half the contents of a candy shop.

All the better for me, then, that you eat up the contents of the store.

Though I'm not certain that would be of any help to your diet.

Worried about my figure, are you? I promise you, I'd be comely even with a little bit more weight on me. So what has caused this candy-based terror?

[ A witch. ]

They can be ever so fatal, my friend. Always watch your health.

Have you known many dead of sugar?

Oh, I'm almost certain that it's an illness of some kind.

[ He can't remember the name of it, unfortunately. ]

Are you not afraid of having too much of a good thing?

Life is short, dear fellow. Why not enjoy it to the fullest? Heavens, you sound like some sort of priest.

[ the sudden laughter— ] I couldn't ever be more offended, Your Majesty.

[ he isn't. though he didn't expect that response. ]

Edited 2017-09-27 15:05 (UTC)

No? All that self-abnegation, all that humbleness - If you're not that, then what are you?

A judge.

[ Kind of. ]

Ah-hah. And what do you stand in judgment over?

Whether or not my sister is safe in your hands, good sir.

[ three guesses who. ]

[ Only one needed.

By smiles sweetly. ]

Do you anticipate your sister being in my hands, dear fellow?

[ Of the Pevensies, Edmund is the hardest to bait. ]

My sister sees the good in everyone.

A most charming quality.

Some would say naive.

Would you say that?

I would.

I admire her no less for it.

Really. So you wish you were naive?

That would simply be all sorts of problematic, don't you think?

Why would it? You say she's to be admired for naivete. Why wouldn't it be an admirable quality for you?

[ because it didn't work the first time. ]

Imitation does not need to trail after admiration. My sister is suited to her unique kindness, just as I am to my chariness. Just as you, my lord, are suited to charming proper ladies in an evening out admiring stars. [ he smiles, lopsided. ] The Narnian sky was bright, brighter than this. She misses it, and I hardly fault her for it. But I'm certain she will be safe in her own hands.

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vorrutyer - 2017-09-30 20:42 (UTC) - Expand