[ She sits obediently still - or perhaps not obediently, merely tired and still too drunk. Her eyes falling shut again, leaning against the sink edge where things still swim behind her eyes. Not sick anymore - just the swing of drunken fervour. ]
Perhaps I need you to not be honest, perhaps I too much for us both. [ She breathes in something knotted, taking form as she says. ] I have been protected. I know... [ it takes her over. ] I know I do not know how to be a Vorrutyer. I have always done as I wanted, when I wanted - it will be different. I know -
[ A babble of concern, because she had taken no small part of his words to heart. The slow creep of what it meant to marry into his family. ]
[ She won't, won't humiliate her father like that, her uncle like that. There's just too much for her ever to step down. ] But what if I fail you, in this, I do not want to - [ What? Humiliate him. That sounded foolish for everything he said. Her fingers creep up, plucking at a thread in an idle concentration. How did he always so - so - neatly a mess? ] - I do not know. Are you sure you do not wish to run away from me?
[ He reaches out and tucks a little stray strand of hair behind her ear, smiling a little wistfully. ]
You are far, far more than I deserve. I'm marrying far above my station. [ And, more to the point, he can't. For his sister's sake, he...needs to follow through. And Lakshmi does have a core of steel; if anyone can resist the weight of the Vorrutyer legacy, she can. ] And you cannot fail me, believe me.
[ She nods, taking solace in that flat steadiness, a particular exactness that is in part how hard it is to move in straight lines right now, and that it's hard not to shake, when she feels the thud of her heart inside her mouth when she puts her fingers over his. Curling around his hand, turning her head into that curl. A kiss that is the bite of teeth over the heel of his palm, affection press. ]
Will you forgive me if I find myself loving you?
[ He seemed so against any genuine affection - but she knows her own faults. Her own inability to not give, not with anything less than all of herself. ]
[ His face twists at that. He's drunk himself, a bit, and drunkenness fosters an honesty he's not capable of sober. Half the reason he drinks. So that flash of pain in his face is real. ]
Lady, your heart is a gift I do not deserve. It would be like draping a street-dog in priceless pearls. The creature isn't even capable of understanding its unworthiness.
[ She keeps her hold tight. Won't let him slip away - how perfectly wretched. Sick with drink, asking for permission for things that should never be a problem if they were not Vor. If they were anyone else - it should never be like that. ]
I would rip apart with my bare hands whoever led you to believe something like that.
[ His gaze lowers. A keen pain lances through him. But he keeps his voice light, saying - ]
Well, he's kneeling beside you right now. So rip away. [ He reaches out, though, and places one of her hands on his cheek, leaning against it. It soothes him. He feels strangely flushed, but her hand is cool. ] Don't love me, Lakshmi. Not with anything more than the piteous love you give a beggar. Preserve that love - for someone more worthy. For yourself. For your children.
[ Likes how it sounds, that quiet way he says it. Lets it make her steady. Sure. As she forms the words too honest to say in daylight, in any time than when they're so close, it didn't matter if the sun rose, she would have nothing else. That she can think any of that, and mean it, feels half way to a sin. ] I will. I will rip you to pieces. Until I have burned every thought of that from your mind.
[ Her smiles kicks up, a shaky laugh that bubbles up with her own recklessness. Her hand slips down, along his neck, until they both are settled flat to his chest. Pushing his jacket out of the way to where she thinks she could hear his heart beat, loud and quick. Leaning forward where she's perched against the bench edge. Settling herself to bring her knees either side of his hips, if only because it's easier, more comfortable. ]
I'll start here - every morning.
[ Presses forward and half a kiss, half a breath she takes against that steady thud she counts. Hers, now, she thinks fondly. ]
- Then here - [ she walks her fingers up, her face tilting up to face him, that same smile - she'll take the heart beat, and she'll give him this. Pausing against his shoulders. ] - Then - [ next against his neck, his jaw, setting them wide, before she brushes her thumb against the curve of his lip. ] - here.
I will tell you, you are mine, and I am yours, until you you cannot think otherwise.
[ His ironic little smile disappears quickly, and a discomfort lights in his eyes as she demonstrates. Intimacy, he can handle - obviously. He's intimate quite often, with a great many people. But this is a different sort of intimacy than sex, than kissing - the emotion of it, the warmth, it's...It's something he doesn't know how to react to. So, weakly: ]
Lakshmi...
[ And then he tries to gather himself, quipping desperately: ]
You're not going to actually ask me to get up early for all of that? That would tear me to pieces.
[ But nor does she stop, those open unforgiving promises that will only take, but give, something small and fragile back into his hands as she brushes her calloused fingers against his cheek. The curve of his nose, against the bow of his top lip. Enamoured, she remembers once, was to be full of - she thinks it apt now. ]
I did not say leave bed.
[ More innocent than what it sounds, at least to her mind. ]
Ah - [ She squirms, suddenly, wriggling back at the edge, her fingers stopping in her path over his features, her face flushing from the neck up in the suddenly skipped-quick heart beat. She was doing her best not to think about that - why, exactly, she had no idea. If the stories were to be believed, and by the gossip from other women, she would have no discomfort where that was concerned. In fact, they had insisted, as long as he stayed interested - ( don't worry after a little while, was the whisper when the engagement was made public, he will look else where. A man with his appetites, it will be quite natural. You will be relieved, honestly - ) - she would never be unsatisfied. The pat on her shoulder, they had heard he was considerate, even for a Vorrutyer.
Perhaps she should be looking forward to it. But there was something to it, not quite named yet. ] - well, that too.
[ His face softens. Honestly...how is it possible that there's a woman in the world still capable of blushing? And why on earth did they feed her to him?
He reaches out and touches her hand, a small apology. ]
No, not that, dear lady. That's not a duty. Only something you want or don't want. Altogether your choice.
[ His carefulness will be her undoing, she knows, her eyes close, her head tilting into it. ]
I do, I do want -
[ A thought that had been hovering, since she'd kissed him - and having a Betan mother, going to Betan schools, meant she wasn't an idiot about it, even if she'd lacked in half the practical experience beyond messy kisses with class mates. Half a sight better than too many girls her own age, but even so - she has been careful in her imaginings. She wants to watch him, she knows, she wants to sigh his name, roll him under her. Kiss down his chest, his lips, and watch those beautiful eyes as she makes love to him. Takes out a shaky breath and makes sure to tuck it further away. Drunk she might be, that she knows better to than express it -
- even if it's a sharp plain expression behind her eyes, when they open up, flicking to his before she swallows. ] I do.
[ She nods - more sensible than she is right now, nor does she feel particularly seductive, with the awful taste in her mouth and that hazy exhaustion fogging her mind. ]
You are a good man, Byerly Vorrutyer. I will never let anyone say otherwise near me again.
[ Firm, direct, and something she will remember, let her carve it into her skin so that she does not forget it. ]
Even if you're succumbing to that delusion, it's certainly not worth fighting other people over. Though - actually - I wonder if you just want an excuse to fight.
[ She shakes her head, laughing happily. ] I never need an excuse. Life presents me many reasons all of itself.
[ A happy correction, as shifts down off the bench ledge, wobbly legs of a new born deer, so far as her ability to hold herself up goes. Taking steps after another. ] But is exactly what is worth fighting over.
[ Well. She thinks, carefully, for awhile. Trying to put in terms that could be expressed, that feeling, that aches in utter purpose all the way through her. ] When I have my sword, training, or when the plasma arc crackle? My whole body feels alive. I can feel every limb, every sound, every feeling. The heat on my face from the shot fired, the ache of my muscles holding a sword so tightly.
[ A shaky laugh, it's not something she can be, not as a woman, not on Barrayar. Why she had been sent to schools in Beta Colony. The only place she could express any of it. No one there would care, not the same way if she spent too long in firing ranges. ]
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Perhaps I need you to not be honest, perhaps I too much for us both. [ She breathes in something knotted, taking form as she says. ] I have been protected. I know... [ it takes her over. ] I know I do not know how to be a Vorrutyer. I have always done as I wanted, when I wanted - it will be different. I know -
[ A babble of concern, because she had taken no small part of his words to heart. The slow creep of what it meant to marry into his family. ]
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It's not done yet, you know. You can still run away. It's not too late.
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[ She won't, won't humiliate her father like that, her uncle like that. There's just too much for her ever to step down. ] But what if I fail you, in this, I do not want to - [ What? Humiliate him. That sounded foolish for everything he said. Her fingers creep up, plucking at a thread in an idle concentration. How did he always so - so - neatly a mess? ] - I do not know. Are you sure you do not wish to run away from me?
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[ He reaches out and tucks a little stray strand of hair behind her ear, smiling a little wistfully. ]
You are far, far more than I deserve. I'm marrying far above my station. [ And, more to the point, he can't. For his sister's sake, he...needs to follow through. And Lakshmi does have a core of steel; if anyone can resist the weight of the Vorrutyer legacy, she can. ] And you cannot fail me, believe me.
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Will you forgive me if I find myself loving you?
[ He seemed so against any genuine affection - but she knows her own faults. Her own inability to not give, not with anything less than all of herself. ]
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Lady, your heart is a gift I do not deserve. It would be like draping a street-dog in priceless pearls. The creature isn't even capable of understanding its unworthiness.
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I would rip apart with my bare hands whoever led you to believe something like that.
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Well, he's kneeling beside you right now. So rip away. [ He reaches out, though, and places one of her hands on his cheek, leaning against it. It soothes him. He feels strangely flushed, but her hand is cool. ] Don't love me, Lakshmi. Not with anything more than the piteous love you give a beggar. Preserve that love - for someone more worthy. For yourself. For your children.
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[ Likes how it sounds, that quiet way he says it. Lets it make her steady. Sure. As she forms the words too honest to say in daylight, in any time than when they're so close, it didn't matter if the sun rose, she would have nothing else. That she can think any of that, and mean it, feels half way to a sin. ] I will. I will rip you to pieces. Until I have burned every thought of that from your mind.
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Dear lady, you don't seem to understand how ripping someone to pieces works.
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Yes, I do. Shall I show you how I mean to?
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My caution, as ever, is overwhelmed by my curiosity. Go on.
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I'll start here - every morning.
[ Presses forward and half a kiss, half a breath she takes against that steady thud she counts. Hers, now, she thinks fondly. ]
- Then here - [ she walks her fingers up, her face tilting up to face him, that same smile - she'll take the heart beat, and she'll give him this. Pausing against his shoulders. ] - Then - [ next against his neck, his jaw, setting them wide, before she brushes her thumb against the curve of his lip. ] - here.
I will tell you, you are mine, and I am yours, until you you cannot think otherwise.
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Lakshmi...
[ And then he tries to gather himself, quipping desperately: ]
You're not going to actually ask me to get up early for all of that? That would tear me to pieces.
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I did not say leave bed.
[ More innocent than what it sounds, at least to her mind. ]
But I will do it whenever I can, until you know.
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So is this what a wife's duty to her husband looks like? It's rather more chaste than I was expecting.
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Perhaps she should be looking forward to it. But there was something to it, not quite named yet. ] - well, that too.
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He reaches out and touches her hand, a small apology. ]
No, not that, dear lady. That's not a duty. Only something you want or don't want. Altogether your choice.
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I do, I do want -
[ A thought that had been hovering, since she'd kissed him - and having a Betan mother, going to Betan schools, meant she wasn't an idiot about it, even if she'd lacked in half the practical experience beyond messy kisses with class mates. Half a sight better than too many girls her own age, but even so - she has been careful in her imaginings. She wants to watch him, she knows, she wants to sigh his name, roll him under her. Kiss down his chest, his lips, and watch those beautiful eyes as she makes love to him. Takes out a shaky breath and makes sure to tuck it further away. Drunk she might be, that she knows better to than express it -
- even if it's a sharp plain expression behind her eyes, when they open up, flicking to his before she swallows. ] I do.
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He kisses her forehead, chaste, polite. ]
That's a declaration I'll need to hear from a sober Lakshmi.
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You are a good man, Byerly Vorrutyer. I will never let anyone say otherwise near me again.
[ Firm, direct, and something she will remember, let her carve it into her skin so that she does not forget it. ]
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[ His lips quirk up helplessly. ]
Even if you're succumbing to that delusion, it's certainly not worth fighting other people over. Though - actually - I wonder if you just want an excuse to fight.
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[ A happy correction, as shifts down off the bench ledge, wobbly legs of a new born deer, so far as her ability to hold herself up goes. Taking steps after another. ] But is exactly what is worth fighting over.
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[ He lifts an eyebrow. ]
And what is it that's so fun about fighting?
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[ Well. She thinks, carefully, for awhile. Trying to put in terms that could be expressed, that feeling, that aches in utter purpose all the way through her. ] When I have my sword, training, or when the plasma arc crackle? My whole body feels alive. I can feel every limb, every sound, every feeling. The heat on my face from the shot fired, the ache of my muscles holding a sword so tightly.
[ A shaky laugh, it's not something she can be, not as a woman, not on Barrayar. Why she had been sent to schools in Beta Colony. The only place she could express any of it. No one there would care, not the same way if she spent too long in firing ranges. ]
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