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[vorrutyer]

[ Unlike any of Byerly’s previous posts, which consisted of him monologuing interminably, this post looks to be a dialogue. There are actually two people on screen - Byerly’s lanky, elegant, sloe-eyed self, and next to him a small odd-looking fellow with intense features and a too-large head set on a hunched spine. For all the differences between them, though, the two look like they could be brothers, or at least cousins - similar noses, similar bone structure, similar skin tone, similar hair color. Ah, the products of Barrayaran inbreeding.

You can tell who set up the camera by the framing. Byerly is centered, and sitting at an angle that best shows off his fine features. Miles Vorkosigan, the small fellow, is squished off into a corner of the frame. By is the first to speak, too. ]

Bonsoir, lovely fellows and ladies. Your bosom friend and brother Byerly here with an important announcement. Though you have known me as His Imperial Majesty Byerly II of Barrayar, now I’m just plain By, because my position has been usurped. [ A fake mournful sigh. ] Brutal civil war. Deadly. Horrible. I’ve been dealt a monstrous blow.

[ Miles, meanwhile, just kind of rolls his eyes skyward. Spare him from his cousin’s melodrama. ] If by “usurped” you mean “assumed rightful authority,” then yes. I usurped you. With little resistance, I might add. [ A pause; he straightens his small frame as best he can - not that it’s especially effective given the camera angle. ] Did you really go around calling yourself His Imperial Majesty Byerly II?

But of course. [ Byerly blinks in mock-innocence. ] Sire, don’t tell me that you don’t see the Imperial office as worthy of respect. I was simply demanding the dignity due to the camp stool.

Is it more dignified to lose it to a civil war too? [ Miles arches a brow in turn. ] I could fight you, I suppose.

Oh, please don’t do that, sire. [ By’s expression is a reasonable approximation of pained. ] I don’t want to hurt you. He’s very fragile, you see. [ The last is said conspiratorially to the audience, as though Miles couldn’t hear. And, swiftly, before he can be executed for treason - ] So I wished to introduce my dear sometime-cousin and current-overlord to the network, as a grand announcement of an enormous life change, and an announcement that I will of course be hosting a coronation party for him.

-- What?

[ There’s not even the slightest twinkle of amusement in Byerly’s face; he looks perfectly solemn as he explains - ]

It is, of course, customary for those invited to a coronation to bring gifts of tribute. I would not presume to speak for my lord Emperor, but I might suggest gifts of alcohol. Or something a little harder than alcohol? A fellow does grow tired of only being drunk, and the Emperor is quite a fan of stimulants, which is why you’ll hear him babble endlessly, all the time. Would that suit you, sire?

[ Miles has been working his mouth like a frog in the background this whole time; he still sputters a moment, staring at Byerly in disbelief. ] I never agreed to a party, By -- [ He interrupts himself with a beautiful stream of cursing in Greek. ] For god’s sake, that won’t be necessary.

[ Loudly, speaking over his Emperor - ] That sounds like a yes to me! I’ll see you all tomorrow night. [ And with a wink, he cuts the feed. ]


[ ooc: blue is Byerly, red is Miles ]

Comments

[dendarii]

[ Miles, meanwhile, turns to Byerly with sharp horror. Completely buying that lie. ]

You've made a non-Barrayaran a Count>

[vorrutyer]

Well, yes.

[ Byerly blinks innocently at Miles, and then at Prior. ]

An unmarried homosexual Terran, yes. Are you saying that you might not approve of that?

[priorly]

Byerly. [A scolding tut.] We don't out people at the dinner table. Where are your manners? He might never have guessed I was Terran.

[Prior finally abandons the support of the doorway to join them. When he walks forward, there's a moment where one leg almost gives way. He flinches, a minor reaction to something that hurts far worse than he shows, smiles, and disguises the limp better going forward. He's been without it for a while but this morning apparently dawned and drained whatever healing magic was left from him.

He rests a hand on the table as he reaches it, a little more serious.]

Do you disapprove?

[dendarii]

[ That - ugh. Miles' expression twists a moment as he just processes that. He does disapprove, but not for the reasons Byerly is insinuating. (Miles can be a little weird about sexuality, but at least when he's considering others and not himself, he can be a lot less Barrayaran about it.) He winces sympathetically at the near collapse. ]

It's the Terran part I object to.

[vorrutyer]

Such prejudice.

[ It's subtle, but Miles is sharp-eyed, of course, so he'll most likely notice. As Prior wobbles, Byerly takes a step closer to him - not touching him, but ready to support him. And his eyes are on his friend - for just a moment, he's unconcerned with Miles and tormenting him. The care he has for Prior, though expressed subtly, is very real. ]

Terrans can be just as brutal and warlike as we Barrayarans. He could make a fine subject.

[priorly]

It's true. If pointless and unnecessary cruelty is a hereditary trait, then you got the gene from us.

[He glances across to Byerly in time to catch the focus on him. And looks a second too long - he always looks a second too long - before rolling his eyes a touch wearily. Fuck this thing. Best to ignore it. He settles on the table edge, able to lean over Miles a little.]

You'll have to approve of me if I'm going to be throwing you a party.

[dendarii]

[ Miles' gaze flicks to Byerly - noticing, for a moment, that display of affection. Hm. He'll have to ask Byerly about that later.

But he's also glancing over at Prior with a slight wince of sympathy. Unlike By, he doesn't move to help, though. He himself would have fought off any help with a snarl, if offered. ]

I approve of you in general. Just - Byerly, what were you thinking? Which Countship did you even offer him?

[vorrutyer]

I created a new one. The Vorwalters. Their District is - well, here -

[ He gestures around himself, his face far too innocent for all of this. ]

And their bloodlines are impeccable. There's a Walter on the Bureau Tapestry, they say. Prior, my dearest, I'm so glad you've agreed to organize his coronation. I should have asked first, but I knew you'd be good for it.

[priorly]

I assumed you were going to ask me second - I'd have been offended if you didn't. And it's the Bayeux tapestry. Bayeux. It's so nice to feel half-listened to. [He tilts his head in Miles' direction.] It's true, though. I'm told he has an adorable little woven spear. I come from a storied and ancient line, the only bad blood in it my own. You should be glad of the fresh stock - interbreeding does terrible things, just ask the British.

[dendarii]

[ Goddammit Byerly. Miles just rubs at his face, frustrated. ]

No more Countships without Our say so. [ A beat. ] I suppose I can't do anything about this one.

[vorrutyer]

[ With a raised eyebrow. ]

I was Emperor in my own right, earlier. I had the right. [ Then, with a sigh, and a bow to Prior - ] I offered, but Prior refused. A pity. We should be so lucky.

[priorly]

I said I might consider being a prince, for the alliteration.

[Though never quite meant it. Byerly had made the offer in some ways for Prior's own protection, should some of his less savory countrymen wake up - but given the stories Prior's heard about them, he hardly sees what difference it would make.

Still. He's not looking entirely impressed by the current countryman's attitude, new emperor or not.]

Though you never told me all your people were this charming in their greetings. Why I feel positively swept off my feet.

[dendarii]

[ Miles flushes a bit with embarrassment. No, he's not giving off a very good impression, is he. ]

Let me start over, then.

[vorrutyer]

I think that'd be an excellent thing to do, sire.

[ By, grinning a bit, settles back against the table. Apparently, liege loyalty doesn't extent to not tormenting his liege. ]

[priorly]

[Prior glances between them, eyebrows raised.

Then extends a hand to Miles - palm turned downward, painted nails up, the way a woman might await a kiss to the back of her hand.]

[dendarii]

[ Miles hesitates. Clearly recognizing the gesture, but also equally clear in his discomfort with it.

After a moment, he takes Prior's hand, but only raises it a little. Not fully to his lips. Instead, he bows lightly over it. ]

Prior - Walter, was it?

[vorrutyer]

[ A little noise of disapproval from the peanut gallery. ]

Sire, aren't you half-Betan? Think what your mother would say. You can do better than this.

[priorly]

[As if he's said this too many times before (he has said this too many times before)]

Like the Walter before this one, yes.

[He has enough mercy to pull back his hand - Byerly wouldn't have set homosexual so plainly into his introduction if it wasn't to make a point, and so far Byerly's points appear to be means of making his cousin uncomfortable. Which is something Prior may need to consider, at a later point.]

I only bite in moments of pleasure or distress. [As he curls his fingers back against his palm.] You're quite safe.

[dendarii]

[ Miles' discomfort is sharpest where he interacts directly with anything other than heterosexuality. And being as young as he is, his Barrayaran biases are still warring with his Betan sensibilities. ]

Well - yes. Of course. I'm sorry for my rudeness.

[ No comment for you, Byerly, just a look. ]

[vorrutyer]

[ And a sunny smile in return. ]

Well, with all that out of the way with, shall I make us something for breakfast? It seems I ought to start adjusting to my new liegeman duties.

[priorly]

[Prior's answer to the apology is a wink, and he settles back into easy familiarity.]

Just water for me, I fear my delicate constitution hasn't gotten out of bed yet. [A moment and] The sire thing is very odd, will you be keeping it up? It's a little dubious roleplay for my taste.

[dendarii]

[ Miles shrugs, faintly. ]

I expect Byerly to be the only one using it. Sarcastically at that. [ Here he tilts his head at Prior, more curious than anything. ] Is this temporary laziness from your constitution or something more permanent?

[ There's not a scrap of pity in his voice - only curious commiseration. ]

[vorrutyer]

[ A shrug as he heads into the kitchen. Like this is natural as anything: ]

Sire is the appropriate term of address of a subject to his Emperor.

[priorly]

[A faint protest as Byerly goes.]

Not at the breakfast table, surely.

[Not a scrap of pity is something to be appreciated, although real reason for it hasn't been given yet. Though it might be noted that Prior hasn't shown the slightest reaction to Miles' lack of Byerly's more willowy qualities.]

It's not much of a constitution, in general. If it's not upsetting itself then it's upset with the pills intended to keep it from getting that way - a vicious cycle.

[He'll elaborate further, but if Miles is unsure about sexuality, one has to wonder how he feels about disease. An impairment of ones own doesn't guarantee an open mind.]

[dendarii]

[ And he appreciates the lack of commentary in return. Too many have already gotten under his skin in this encounter, even. His own tone is just sympathetic and light in return; this is a much easier topic for him. ]

Ah, yes. The joy of the treatment being as much of a pain as the affliction itself.

[ He gestures to his forearm; one of many surgery scars is there, bright and pale against his skin. ]