"I do not need, I want..." She looks down him, concerned for a moment to what he's speaking of as her hand curls around his face. Realising what he means. How he means. She looked back up and there is really - only one response to that. To the impossible, impossible question that is what she wants. Because she is not good with words. She says what she means, as she means to say it. Much to her courtier's horror at times. It won her loyal servants from the highest to the lowest.
Less, the adoration of poets.
So she kisses him. Simple, like it was the easiest no more than to lean forward and down the rest of the way. Her head tilts into the angle. Her mouth parting against his with a thready sigh. Her eyes lowering with the contentment of touch. The wine on her tongue that makes this easy, that makes her spine curve. Her fingers slide around the curve of his cheek, into his hair. Adoring how it feels against her touch. Adoring the little thing that is a kiss where the world cannot see. He is slight, different, yes. But that makes him so easily her own in his mind. Not made a mess in memories. Not stained with blood. He could pull away and say that he had changed his mind, and that would be water to the desert.
When she pulls back, it is not to go far. "Only, I do not know how such a thing is meant to be. I have been a Queen alone, a very long time. Will you show me?"
Oh. Oh. He is so very bad at reading people when it comes to affection like this - but he is so very glad to be so wrong. The moment her lips find his, he kisses back, lips parting in turn, bracing one hand against her hip while he trails the fingers of the others along her spine. He keeps it simple for this first kiss, but there is the promise of tongue and teeth and anything else she might wish. He has a skilled tongue, both metaphorically and literally.
There is no chance he's changed his mind. When she pulls back a bit, he takes a moment to catch his breath, his cheeks flushed. If that was in any way meant to stave him off, or to give him a little so that he might not want more ... it definitely didn't work. He is more desperate than ever to give her everything he possibly can.
"I - I would. Very gladly." Worship at her feet if need be. Find other ways to make her feel all that he can. But - he must ask first. he must, he must, or forever live in worry and shame that he hadn't. "Are you sober enough? Is this truly what you want?"
He won't take advantage of her state, dammit. If she's too drunk to agree, then it's no agreement at all.
She huffs laughter, and if it were not a different kind of intoxication to be so close to him, she might give him a more determined shove away for the question. He is so sweet, in such different ways that she ever thought of when she first heard his name, his reputation.
But for now, she can give the easy assurance. "Drunk enough only to be bold, my Admiral, not enough to make choices I regret. I'm not about to fall off a horse again - " right, that was a story for another time. Cutting herself off, he doesn't need to think of her as inelegant at a time like this. When, well, he wasn't the only one to feel self-conscious. It had been a dreadfully long time. What was it now, five, six years? It didn't bear thinking of. So she doesn't, instead leaning to brush the tip of her nose against his cheek. "Not that I do such things often."
Well - that's fair. He's much the same, isn't he? Bold but not completely drunk, still very much in control. Just. Less controlled. More willing to take a leap.
"I would like to hear about that sometime," he says with a small smile. The tricky part will be trying to remember not to share his own. "I would also love to see you on a horse sometime." God, would he. That might be the best damn day of his life.
"You will, when we go to the surface. Perhaps you will even meet my mare. She is Sarangi. She has carried me through many battles." She adores her, quite obviously. She might just like horses more than people - but that is for a later date.
For now, she smooths her fingers against his hair, lower, against his neck and hovers on the invitation. "How else would you like to see me?" An indication, that for now, all he need do is ask, and she will give it, as long as it was limited to them in this room.
Ah, he'd like nothing more. How lovely that sounds to him right now. iT makes him miss his own horse quite fiercely. Fat Ninny is surely living out his old age pampered in a stable right now...
But. Other very pleasant concerns at the moment instead. He lifts his eyes to hers, leaning up to press a kiss to her jawline. "As yourself," he murmurs. "Only what you wish to show." No need to be queen. Just - herself.
She sighs, the little reactions always gave too much away. Her nails scratching against his shoulder as his mouth curves on her skin. That, so surely, could be no more than she wanted. Him to touch, him to look at her, and want nothing other than the woman in front of him. To have those grey eyes, his clever mouth, his kind words, all to herself.
Lakshmi reached behind her, searching for the hand at her back to guide it up. To the bare piece of skin that sat between her top and skirt. Encouraging him to touch, rather - to keep touching. Once she's sure he would not stop she leant to kiss him again. Because it covers - a shyness. At odds with what she wants and how terrifying that is. But if she does it like this, so close that there was nothing more than a breath between them. To reach up to her shoulder and begin to loosen the ties that kept all her garments together as she keeps kissing him. ( Only, just one moment where that takes up more than everything she is capable of in sheer distraction of that ) But, a trick of comfortable clothing perhaps - just one tug, and the material begins to loosen over her body. The rest, she thinks he can figure out as she begins to lean into him more eagerly. Her minimal task done and a far more enticing one in front of her.
Something she gives herself too as surely as she gave herself to anything. The needy, desperately soft sound that she presses into his mouth. Her hands coming to brace either side of his neck. Harder, quicker, how badly she wants him, have him all to herself that fills her up.
He follows her lead gladly. Skating his fingers along her skin, rubbing small circles with his thumb - taking in a breath as she loosens the fabric of her clothing. Yes, he can follow that implied suggestion. He begins to tug the cloth away from her even as she distracts him otherwise, leaning in closer, kissing him hard. He is eager to return every motion, to meet her with himself, to pull her in closer. He wants her so badly it hurts. Just please, universe, grant him this one thing. Let him bring her joy in turn with whatever he can do for her ...
The universe, as it turned out, was a cruel and unforgiving mistress.
Because she pushes him back, leaning over and into him, encouraging him onto his back as she begins to pull at her clothes. Giddy, almost. This is - utterly below them both. To be rolling around on the floor like a pair of silly teenagers. Her clothes beginning to slip, unravelling between them and soon, he'd have plenty of skin to touch. Enough to make her shiver in anticipation against him.
Down, down, down. Until her chest is pressing into his, her hands beginning to reach for his clothes in turn.
"Rani! Are you there? We are looking for the Admiral, someone said he came this way."
The loud knock on the door jerks her all the way up again. Immediately yanking for her clothes with a string of words that were anything but pleasant and more a panicked frustration. Her arm curling over her chest and she went to unravel herself from him. "A moment!" Shit.
Oh for the love of - Miles curses under his breath in Russian. Then in Greek for good measure. Could they have waited five minutes? Just five minutes with her in his arms, at least touching her with his mouth and his hands, doing all he can to make her happy - not her getting up off of him in a panic. (He knows why, and he knows it's not anything to do with him. She could have a Jacksonian-altered superhumanly handsome man under her and she'd still push away rather than risk her entourage seeing what antics they're getting up to. But. He's still a little stung.)
He reluctantly gets up himself, straightening his uniform and trying to unmuss his hair. Muttering another curse. "Yes, I'm here," he says with just the slightest hint of irritation. Going to the door to try to give her more time to put herself together.
She pulls herself up into the lounge. Reaching up to hastily to retire her clothes against her shoulder. She's still - utterly dishevelled. Sinking her teeth into her lip in the effort of trying not to loathe the interruption. Arranging her veil over her hair. Combing her hair as neat as she could. Snatching up the wine to busy herself with drinking it and not looking at him. Like nothing at all had happened. Or near to nothing. She was fairly sure she might be kiss-drunk. As well as... drunk. Wonderful.
Damn, damn, damn. Was that Devi? Of course, it was. She could refuse Devi nothing, of course, they would send someone as dear to her as a daughter. Of course, it would be the one who would throttle him for touching her in a way that was anything more than the lightest brush. Shit.
Devi is... well, hard-eyed and hard mouthed when she looks down at him when the door opens. "Admiral. Your men are drunk - and fighting - " She looks up then, further into the room where Lakshmi drinks her wine and looks at the wall in the meantime. Devi wallows and then carries on. Clearly... questioning if nothing else. "- over some of the spoils. Your Lady Taura called for you."
Oof. Miles knows Devi well enough by now. More than enough to respect her fiercely, and also respect the fact that the woman would run him through for so much as thinking about inflicting his tiny, twisted body on Lakshmi. Best to heed her request and move quickly before any momentary mercy flees her body.
He manages an apologetic look back at Lakshmi, then returns his attention to Devi. Also. Trying to hide the flush in his cheeks. It's the wine, he swears. "I'll attend to it at once," he says firmly. "Thank you for telling me." And with that, he'll brush past her hurriedly to see what the hell his mercs are after. And curse her for ruining this, dammit, couldn't he have gotten five minutes here.
Lakshmi only stands, when he goes to leave. Her voice low, unable to keep the warmth from it. "Thank you for your company, Admiral. It was much... appreciated."
Because she doubts she'll see him again this evening, from the sound of it. Maybe it was for the best. Falling about drunk on the floor was hardly a decent thing for either of them. If any of this could be decent at all. Think, Lakshmi, with more than loneliness.
Rather, unfortunately, however, it does leave her with Devi giving her a far too accusing look. Which - she orders over the top of. She needs to be prepared for bed. Which took care of most of the time looking her lady in the eye. Not exactly untrue. After so much wine, there was nothing else to do but take all her snatched kisses to bed with her for the evening. Sleep of the worst of it until the morning. Which repays her all her indulgence with... well, a blinding hangover.
Made appearing for the meetings come morning about the next plan of attack, an utter misery, as she waits for him to appear with the rest of his staff. The ships light a sharp cutting agony. But she was firmly put back together again. Nothing open now, sitting with her arms on the table between the simplistic maps of her own people, to the complex screens of his. At least Kashi was kind enough to keep feeding her water without saying very much about it as they worked. Inevitably drawn into a debate while her temper was short, as she and Quinn went over plans - "The risk does not matter - I must get word to the other leaders on the ground. They will want to know what to expect before they suffer the frustrations of the UC for our victory." It's bitten out, snapped unhappily. She never did take well being told she had to sit on her hands and wait.
MIles, meanwhile, spends the rest of the evening calming down the Dendarii. At least the group diffuses once they see how furious he is (and how frustrated at being distracted, goddammit, why did they misbehave tonight); he spends the rest of the night making sure the rest of the units aren't going to give him the same trouble tomorrow. And then, when he's done, he falls into bed for a few hours of distracted sleep. He can hardly close his eyes without thinking of her. And tomorrow he has to go back to work, to getting more success before he can see her again, likely...
He strides into the meeting the next morning looking a bit hungover himself. Still nursing that quiet frustration - but delighted to see Lakshmi again in any capacity. He just hopes that she'll be happy to see him after last night. Or ... um, hpapier in general? He looks over the situation, frowning a little. "We can't spare a full assault," he says with a sigh. "We do need time to regroup. Quinn is right."
She leans onto the table, working a hand into her hair, pushing it out of the way over her face as she looks over the plans for the millionth time. Meeting his eye, once and hard - and it's there, if only between them. If only for them to know. Because she says nothing, reacts not at all, but how she looks, looks and looks at him like there is nothing else ( how she wants to push it all out of her hands, sends his people and hers away and - )
But it does not matter, it cannot matter, that belonged to last night. There is work to do. Frowning deeply she goes on, "What then?" Her nails drum. "They will be waiting for word, after yesterday. The UC will tell them we have been chased back, regardless of the truth."
Oh. Oh. Miles' self control is not quite so good in return. He stops a moment, breath catching. So that night just drunkenness or desperation. The thought warms him instantly; it distracts him from the planning for just a moment, making him think of her instead, how lovely she is.
God, Miles, focus. He did come here to do a job, and she's clearly agitated. And he needs to think up a way through this. "A messenger," he says after a moment. "One, maybe two people moving quickly."
"Agreed. They need some hope." She goes quiet, not looking at him then. Realising something, belatedly. Something that even as she thinks, forms it, she loathes it.
"How do we accomplish that? I can tell you a dozen landing sights that might help you pass unnotice, but -" she doubted, heavily, it could be that easy.
Of course it won't be easy. But - but. Miles thinks it can be done. At great risk, perhaps, but it can be done. "I'll go myself," he says, to the alarm of all the Dendarii in the room. "They'll get the message, and I can help coordinate your people."
And to the chorus of all of them, she speaks it far more bluntly - "No! That's madness, not by yourself. The desert will eat you whole."
She rises sharply up her hands planting onto the table. Leaning over it.
"It's utterly ridiculous, unless you take me with you."
- her people are not so quiet in their alarm. They shout the refusal almost immediately at the suggestion. Kashi is at her elbow almost immediately with it, tugging at her but Lakshmi does nothing more than straighten, one eyebrow raising in flat challenge to him or anyone else that would stop her.
God. He loves this woman even more now. To the point where he realizes it's probably clouding his judgement, but - fuck it. IT's a good plan, even if it is also risky.
"You would know the lay of the land," he says. "And you would be their best hope. I'll just make sure you get there successfully."
More outcry from the Dendarii in turn. Taura is insistent on coming with them, at least, to give them some protection.
Her look to him is utter pleased triumph, brilliant through her whole face before she schools it far more serious. "Then it's settled." She can give a sympathising look for Taura at least, nodding in agreement to it, at least. but there is a certain joy to being Queen, from time to time. That she looks at her brave Admiral, feels her smile so barely hidden and speaks with the comfort of absolutes. Even if her people object they always do as ordered.
"Kashi, you will stay with Damodar here. Vijay and Jhalkari will accompany me." She sits once more. Sorted, then. They have their orders, and it is a dismissal, go pack what little they have.
The Dendarii are rather more democratic, so there will be arguing. But. Taking Taura will alleviate the more legitimate fears, at least, and at that point he can barrel on ahead. He smiles at her, giving her a light bow. "Then we'll prepare. I'll meet you at one of the shuttle bays in two hours."
"Land near Chittor. The mountains there will give us cover... And if I have my dates correct, we will be hardly be noticed."
She thinks she has it right, it has been too long, since she had kept the days of her home, but not so long as to forget rhythms as long as her life. But she goes after a moment, her hands meeting palm to palm, bowing over them to his bow in return.
And when she is there those two hours later it is dressed how she had met him, the first time. A snatched moment in the dark. Though the armour, it's mix of old and new, heavy plate and light polymers. The helmet under one arm, long pieces of fabric draped around it. Her guards match her, where they stand at rest, waiting for whatever preparations had to be made. Quiet, at least, until Damodar following so closely behind his mother, broke to grab onto her, for all Kashi did her best to keep him back.
But all the same she picks up her son, armoured and all to hold him, fiercely and tightly. Murmuring to him as he clung with both arms around her neck, his face pressed into her her cheek, that he would be strong when he was amongst other warriors, that he must learn to be as great as the Admiral's men. That if he was with them, she could not worry. Hangs onto him, holding her son in both arms until Naismith himself arrived.
It might have been years since her son started walking, since he no longer needed his mother to attend his every little need. but there would never be a moment where it did not grieve her to let him go, as she set him back down on the floor. Her fierce boy, all his father, all his kindness. (and let him never become her, for whatever mercy God could give man.) Schooling her expression flat again, as Damodar left her to go back to his bodyguard of a nurse. Clearing her throat pointedly.
Miles isn't sure what she means, but he is inclined to trust her. A local festival perhaps? They ought to blend in if they can ... So when he meets her, he is in plain clothes, armed only with a stunner and his dagger, tucked into an unornamented sheath on his belt. Taura is bristling with enough weapons for the both of them - and also her claws, painted in bright, feminine colors. She bares her teeth in a smile as they meet.
He holds back a moment, watching that tender moment with utter fondness. Admiral Naismith can't be babymad, but the little Lord Vorkosigan looking through his eyes sure could be. Ah, how he longs for children. He briefly has a fantasy of marrying this lovely woman, of her son returning to Barrayar with him and to see that planet too, or him staying here and helping to raise him to lead her people in turn ... Pure fantasy and he knows it. Just. Keep your head in the right place, Miles, there's a hell of a lot to do today.
"We are," he says, giving her a nod once she's done. "On your command, we make for Chittor."
She nods in agreement. One last moment, to drop down to kiss her son on the forehead before she straightens, nodding to him to lead on. "Good, the Raj there owes my family a favour." She hoped, at least, that Nana would honour it.
But with it, she steps onto the vessel that they were to leave on, enough time now had to have passed that this still was not impossibly strange to be travelling in space in such a way. Trusting him and his pilots at least.
Because it's impossible to miss once they get there - the mountains are huge, mighty rocks jutting out of flat landscape, that one side gives way to greenery, the other is nothing but desert. A cusp, and impressively so.
But more so, she muses, when they see the fortress, she supposes as she waits to leave, getting herself ready for that strange feeling. Waiting for him and Taura, leaning forward to give them explanations they'll need. "Tonight will be Diwali, the city will be flood with light. Not even the UC dares deny us this day, so we ought to be able to slip in, procure transport, then leave before anyone even notices we have come."
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Less, the adoration of poets.
So she kisses him. Simple, like it was the easiest no more than to lean forward and down the rest of the way. Her head tilts into the angle. Her mouth parting against his with a thready sigh. Her eyes lowering with the contentment of touch. The wine on her tongue that makes this easy, that makes her spine curve. Her fingers slide around the curve of his cheek, into his hair. Adoring how it feels against her touch. Adoring the little thing that is a kiss where the world cannot see. He is slight, different, yes. But that makes him so easily her own in his mind. Not made a mess in memories. Not stained with blood. He could pull away and say that he had changed his mind, and that would be water to the desert.
When she pulls back, it is not to go far. "Only, I do not know how such a thing is meant to be. I have been a Queen alone, a very long time. Will you show me?"
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There is no chance he's changed his mind. When she pulls back a bit, he takes a moment to catch his breath, his cheeks flushed. If that was in any way meant to stave him off, or to give him a little so that he might not want more ... it definitely didn't work. He is more desperate than ever to give her everything he possibly can.
"I - I would. Very gladly." Worship at her feet if need be. Find other ways to make her feel all that he can. But - he must ask first. he must, he must, or forever live in worry and shame that he hadn't. "Are you sober enough? Is this truly what you want?"
He won't take advantage of her state, dammit. If she's too drunk to agree, then it's no agreement at all.
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But for now, she can give the easy assurance. "Drunk enough only to be bold, my Admiral, not enough to make choices I regret. I'm not about to fall off a horse again - " right, that was a story for another time. Cutting herself off, he doesn't need to think of her as inelegant at a time like this. When, well, he wasn't the only one to feel self-conscious. It had been a dreadfully long time. What was it now, five, six years? It didn't bear thinking of. So she doesn't, instead leaning to brush the tip of her nose against his cheek. "Not that I do such things often."
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"I would like to hear about that sometime," he says with a small smile. The tricky part will be trying to remember not to share his own. "I would also love to see you on a horse sometime." God, would he. That might be the best damn day of his life.
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For now, she smooths her fingers against his hair, lower, against his neck and hovers on the invitation. "How else would you like to see me?" An indication, that for now, all he need do is ask, and she will give it, as long as it was limited to them in this room.
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But. Other very pleasant concerns at the moment instead. He lifts his eyes to hers, leaning up to press a kiss to her jawline. "As yourself," he murmurs. "Only what you wish to show." No need to be queen. Just - herself.
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Lakshmi reached behind her, searching for the hand at her back to guide it up. To the bare piece of skin that sat between her top and skirt. Encouraging him to touch, rather - to keep touching. Once she's sure he would not stop she leant to kiss him again. Because it covers - a shyness. At odds with what she wants and how terrifying that is. But if she does it like this, so close that there was nothing more than a breath between them. To reach up to her shoulder and begin to loosen the ties that kept all her garments together as she keeps kissing him. ( Only, just one moment where that takes up more than everything she is capable of in sheer distraction of that ) But, a trick of comfortable clothing perhaps - just one tug, and the material begins to loosen over her body. The rest, she thinks he can figure out as she begins to lean into him more eagerly. Her minimal task done and a far more enticing one in front of her.
Something she gives herself too as surely as she gave herself to anything. The needy, desperately soft sound that she presses into his mouth. Her hands coming to brace either side of his neck. Harder, quicker, how badly she wants him, have him all to herself that fills her up.
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Because she pushes him back, leaning over and into him, encouraging him onto his back as she begins to pull at her clothes. Giddy, almost. This is - utterly below them both. To be rolling around on the floor like a pair of silly teenagers. Her clothes beginning to slip, unravelling between them and soon, he'd have plenty of skin to touch. Enough to make her shiver in anticipation against him.
Down, down, down. Until her chest is pressing into his, her hands beginning to reach for his clothes in turn.
"Rani! Are you there? We are looking for the Admiral, someone said he came this way."
The loud knock on the door jerks her all the way up again. Immediately yanking for her clothes with a string of words that were anything but pleasant and more a panicked frustration. Her arm curling over her chest and she went to unravel herself from him. "A moment!" Shit.
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He reluctantly gets up himself, straightening his uniform and trying to unmuss his hair. Muttering another curse. "Yes, I'm here," he says with just the slightest hint of irritation. Going to the door to try to give her more time to put herself together.
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Damn, damn, damn. Was that Devi? Of course, it was. She could refuse Devi nothing, of course, they would send someone as dear to her as a daughter. Of course, it would be the one who would throttle him for touching her in a way that was anything more than the lightest brush. Shit.
Devi is... well, hard-eyed and hard mouthed when she looks down at him when the door opens. "Admiral. Your men are drunk - and fighting - " She looks up then, further into the room where Lakshmi drinks her wine and looks at the wall in the meantime. Devi wallows and then carries on. Clearly... questioning if nothing else. "- over some of the spoils. Your Lady Taura called for you."
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He manages an apologetic look back at Lakshmi, then returns his attention to Devi. Also. Trying to hide the flush in his cheeks. It's the wine, he swears. "I'll attend to it at once," he says firmly. "Thank you for telling me." And with that, he'll brush past her hurriedly to see what the hell his mercs are after. And curse her for ruining this, dammit, couldn't he have gotten five minutes here.
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Because she doubts she'll see him again this evening, from the sound of it. Maybe it was for the best. Falling about drunk on the floor was hardly a decent thing for either of them. If any of this could be decent at all. Think, Lakshmi, with more than loneliness.
Rather, unfortunately, however, it does leave her with Devi giving her a far too accusing look. Which - she orders over the top of. She needs to be prepared for bed. Which took care of most of the time looking her lady in the eye. Not exactly untrue. After so much wine, there was nothing else to do but take all her snatched kisses to bed with her for the evening. Sleep of the worst of it until the morning. Which repays her all her indulgence with... well, a blinding hangover.
Made appearing for the meetings come morning about the next plan of attack, an utter misery, as she waits for him to appear with the rest of his staff. The ships light a sharp cutting agony. But she was firmly put back together again. Nothing open now, sitting with her arms on the table between the simplistic maps of her own people, to the complex screens of his. At least Kashi was kind enough to keep feeding her water without saying very much about it as they worked. Inevitably drawn into a debate while her temper was short, as she and Quinn went over plans - "The risk does not matter - I must get word to the other leaders on the ground. They will want to know what to expect before they suffer the frustrations of the UC for our victory." It's bitten out, snapped unhappily. She never did take well being told she had to sit on her hands and wait.
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He strides into the meeting the next morning looking a bit hungover himself. Still nursing that quiet frustration - but delighted to see Lakshmi again in any capacity. He just hopes that she'll be happy to see him after last night. Or ... um, hpapier in general? He looks over the situation, frowning a little. "We can't spare a full assault," he says with a sigh. "We do need time to regroup. Quinn is right."
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But it does not matter, it cannot matter, that belonged to last night. There is work to do. Frowning deeply she goes on, "What then?" Her nails drum. "They will be waiting for word, after yesterday. The UC will tell them we have been chased back, regardless of the truth."
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God, Miles, focus. He did come here to do a job, and she's clearly agitated. And he needs to think up a way through this. "A messenger," he says after a moment. "One, maybe two people moving quickly."
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"How do we accomplish that? I can tell you a dozen landing sights that might help you pass unnotice, but -" she doubted, heavily, it could be that easy.
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She rises sharply up her hands planting onto the table. Leaning over it.
"It's utterly ridiculous, unless you take me with you."
- her people are not so quiet in their alarm. They shout the refusal almost immediately at the suggestion. Kashi is at her elbow almost immediately with it, tugging at her but Lakshmi does nothing more than straighten, one eyebrow raising in flat challenge to him or anyone else that would stop her.
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"You would know the lay of the land," he says. "And you would be their best hope. I'll just make sure you get there successfully."
More outcry from the Dendarii in turn. Taura is insistent on coming with them, at least, to give them some protection.
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"Kashi, you will stay with Damodar here. Vijay and Jhalkari will accompany me." She sits once more. Sorted, then. They have their orders, and it is a dismissal, go pack what little they have.
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She thinks she has it right, it has been too long, since she had kept the days of her home, but not so long as to forget rhythms as long as her life. But she goes after a moment, her hands meeting palm to palm, bowing over them to his bow in return.
And when she is there those two hours later it is dressed how she had met him, the first time. A snatched moment in the dark. Though the armour, it's mix of old and new, heavy plate and light polymers. The helmet under one arm, long pieces of fabric draped around it. Her guards match her, where they stand at rest, waiting for whatever preparations had to be made. Quiet, at least, until Damodar following so closely behind his mother, broke to grab onto her, for all Kashi did her best to keep him back.
But all the same she picks up her son, armoured and all to hold him, fiercely and tightly. Murmuring to him as he clung with both arms around her neck, his face pressed into her her cheek, that he would be strong when he was amongst other warriors, that he must learn to be as great as the Admiral's men. That if he was with them, she could not worry. Hangs onto him, holding her son in both arms until Naismith himself arrived.
It might have been years since her son started walking, since he no longer needed his mother to attend his every little need. but there would never be a moment where it did not grieve her to let him go, as she set him back down on the floor. Her fierce boy, all his father, all his kindness. (and let him never become her, for whatever mercy God could give man.) Schooling her expression flat again, as Damodar left her to go back to his bodyguard of a nurse. Clearing her throat pointedly.
"Admiral. Are we away?"
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He holds back a moment, watching that tender moment with utter fondness. Admiral Naismith can't be babymad, but the little Lord Vorkosigan looking through his eyes sure could be. Ah, how he longs for children. He briefly has a fantasy of marrying this lovely woman, of her son returning to Barrayar with him and to see that planet too, or him staying here and helping to raise him to lead her people in turn ... Pure fantasy and he knows it. Just. Keep your head in the right place, Miles, there's a hell of a lot to do today.
"We are," he says, giving her a nod once she's done. "On your command, we make for Chittor."
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But with it, she steps onto the vessel that they were to leave on, enough time now had to have passed that this still was not impossibly strange to be travelling in space in such a way. Trusting him and his pilots at least.
Because it's impossible to miss once they get there - the mountains are huge, mighty rocks jutting out of flat landscape, that one side gives way to greenery, the other is nothing but desert. A cusp, and impressively so.
But more so, she muses, when they see the fortress, she supposes as she waits to leave, getting herself ready for that strange feeling. Waiting for him and Taura, leaning forward to give them explanations they'll need. "Tonight will be Diwali, the city will be flood with light. Not even the UC dares deny us this day, so we ought to be able to slip in, procure transport, then leave before anyone even notices we have come."
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