sunchime | ☆ the vorkosigan saga psl post, volume 3

[ her lips thin at that, and she tries to ignore the way her chest tightens. she tries, discreetly, not to swallow. ]

And this is, what, conditional on my parole? On my cooperation? Telling you what I know?

That's right.

[ He crosses his arms and intones: ]

Contingent upon you quitting the Barrayaran field yourself.

[ she won't agree to that, not on her breath. not as long as she doesn't have to. so she just moves past it like so much water, hands still trembling fists at her sides, but she refuses to look away from his face. ]

You and I both know I don't know anything useful, Byerly. But I'll tell you what I do know.

[ and now the tide of anger and hurt rises in her again, threatening to break her composure, but she starts talking and she doesn't stop. she is so very, very close now, but she still doesn't touch him. some small part of her is afraid that she'll just hit him again if she does. ]

When you disappeared, I was worried you'd gotten yourself stupidly drunk and lost. When I was sick, I wondered why you didn't visit. And when I was better, I was afraid you were dead somewhere, of the cold or the flu or both. I looked for you. I made Miles help, because he knew the mountains better than I did. God, I was terrified. I thought you were dead. And then York and Ratchet came to camp, and...

[ and there she does falter, mouth open, throat working, but all that comes out is a hitched breath as tears well up in her eyes again. ]

[ His own throat tightens. Misery rises up in him. He feels, stupidly, the first beginnings of tears in his own eyes, a little heat in his cheekbones that feels like -

No. No. He can't trust himself to speak, so he just looks away and shrugs at her and prays she doesn't see the faint trembling of his hands. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry... ]

Byerly.

[ she doesn't raise her voice. she doesn't have to. she's shaking, too, much more visibly, but she doesn't move away. ]

Look at me.

[ He doesn't. He can't. He wheels and goes for the door. ]

Byerly!

[ this time it is a shout, a plea, a command -- she grabs for his shoulder to catch him, pull him back. ]

Byerly Vorrutyer, don't you dare walk out that door!

Don't -

[ That comes out a choked plea. He wrenches out of her grip. His head is buzzing. He feels sick. That's it, then - that's it - he's damned - ]

[ no -- no. she can't bear to stop herself now. she feels sick with hope, and it hurts, but she feels sick about so many other things, about hitting him, about the things he's said to her, about everything, and she doesn't know what of any of them would be worse, but she can't stop here. but her voice weakens at his voice, falling out of a shout, wavering. ]

Byerly?

[ But he just flees. Desperately trying to figure out how...how he'll get out of this, what story he'll give to them, how he'll explain this away. More than anything...how he'll keep her safe. I confess, I'm in love with her - my loyalty is absolute, I just hate the idea that I can't seduce her. Will that work? God, let it work... ]

[ he slips out of her grasp and she almost cries out after him, but she finds she can't. she staggers back as though his flight were a physical blow, drops herself back down onto her cot and begins to cry.

sonia had not, until after that, thought of the consequences of her actions. what it might mean for her to wrench some truth out of him. some part of her couldn't believe there was any truth to be had, needed him to confirm it, but that had been so painful. she just wanted -- she needed to know. she pushed hard until she broke him down. she hadn't thought about what would happen. and she'd called him shortsighted.

the next time she sees byerly, it's in an interrogation room, cold and small, but maybe it just feels that way. she doesn't want to be here to see this, and she doesn't know why they do. she clutches her hands in her lap when they bring him in, trying her best to look impassive, but it falters and flickers. ]

[ He wasn't prepared for...that. When they lead him in, his expression is ironic and aloof. He's saying to them - ]

If this is supposed to be some sort of punishment, fellows, you clearly haven't been on fast-penta. It's fantastic stuff. Have you ever tried it? Recreationally, I mean. Amazing -

[ And then his eyes land on her. And the irony drops away. He looks - horrified. For just a moment, terrified. Then the irony returns. He laughs - ]

Oh, I say. This room's occupied. Oh, it's Princess Sonia. Haven't you already interrogated her?

[ she looks terrified right back at him, just for that moment, and the bottom drops out of her stomach, her hands clenching tighter. she wishes she had something to hold onto besides the fabric of these stupid fatigues they've given her.

the ghem-colonel sitting on the opposite side of the table looks unfazed by byerly's irony and just says: ] Naturally. And you're next in the queue. Ghem-Lieutenant, allergy test?

[ the ghem-lieutenant opens the case on the table -- containing nothing but a hypospray and two ampules along with a prick test. he doesn't ask for byerly's arm, just takes it to prick his skin. ]

Ah, what a cute little prick you just gave me. Don't worry, my good man - when I'm telling this story later, I'll say it was much bigger.

[ He winks at the lieutenant. He wonders if he could manage to kill him. Or himself. How twitchy is the Colonel's trigger finger? Could he get him to use that nerve disruptor? Somehow?

I'm not going to try. I can't. Not where she'd see. ]

Say, what are the odds of getting the girl out of here? If I'm telling all...Some of it isn't fit for, hmm, delicate ears. Honestly, I think all of your ears might be too delicate for my exploits.

[ the ghem-colonol rolls his eyes. honestly, he's not even really looking forward to doing this interrogation, because it means he'll have to listen to byerly talk.

the ghem-colonel doesn't even look back at sonia as the ghem-lieutenant preps the hypospray. he doesn't smile, but he does have that obnoxiously lofty cetagandan tone. ]

We failed to bring you to her interrogation. A discourtesy on our part, I'm afraid. We're just making up the difference.

[ sonia flinches at that. god, she's glad byerly wasn't there to see her, dazedly crying through half of it. the ghem-colonel waves at his subordinate, who picks up the hypospray, and it hisses as it injects into byerly's arm. after a few seconds: ]

What is your name?

[ As the hypospray reaches his arm, he can't quite suppress his terror. His breathing quickens, and a tremor rubs through him, and he lifts his eyes to Sonia's - don't listen, please don't listen...

That tension fades as the fast-penta takes hold. The terror gets washed away in a blissful sort of relaxation. Byerly, in contrast to most, actually looks less dissolute under fast-penta; his eyes brighten from their usual expression of bleary drunkenness, and he sits up, his ironic expression smoothing out into something considerably less nasty and snotty. ]

My name? Ah. Byerly Vlad Vorrutyer. My word, you'd look a good bit handsomer if you'd wash off that idiotic face-paint. All of you look like kids after a carnival, I swear.

[ she doesn't have to listen. just seeing him like this is enough to rattle her. she matches his gaze with a helpless one, her throat tight.

but the ghem-colonel pays no attention to the princess. next: ]

Where were you born?

Me? Oh, Vorrutyer's District, naturally. Rutheim, the capitol. Did you know "heim" means "home"? Born in the home of rutting. Prophetic.

[ He laughs good-naturedly. ]

[ sonia bites her lip, silently watching. the ghem-colonel has to quash the urge to roll his eyes. ]

And what is today's date?

[ This time he gives the answer without commentary, rattling off the date. But he follows that up by looking at Sonia and smiling at her with warmth, with kindness - ]

Don't be afraid.

[ sonia doesn't know whether to be warmed or chilled by that, that utter, unmasked kindness on byerly's face. she wraps her hands around her elbows, arms pressed to her stomach, and just watches, lashes wet.

the ghem-colonel assumed that bringing the princess here would yield interesting results, but he's also not going to let her derail this interrogation. the nice thing about fast-penta, though, is that you don't have to be too subtle to get the right answers. ]

Where do your loyalties lie, Vorrutyer?

[ He answers with a casual, cheerful shrug. And - of all things - he nods to Sonia. ]

I'm loyal to her.

[ the color drains from sonia's face. of all things -- of all things he could have said, she'd never have expected that. her mind rushes back to the memory of hitting him, screaming at him, and she has to blink back tears. she wants to get up out of this chair, reach out to him, take his hand and -- and -- she doesn't know. but god, she didn't know. she really, truly didn't know.

the ghem-colonel glances back at her with an unreadable look before turning back to byerly. well, he did want interesting results. ]

In this war, Vorrutyer. Barrayar or the Cetagandan Empire?

[ He laughs. The sound is cheerful, and his voice mild, when he replies - ]

Barrayar. Always Barrayar. Never anyone else but Barrayar.

[ a breath escapes her that's mostly relief, but her stomach is cold, too. she knows he speaks the truth now, and with such conviction. and in a way, it is a relief. everything he'd said and done, however cruel, it must have been in service of barrayar. but what she'd done...

the ghem-colonel steeples his fingers and leans back. ]

What were your orders?

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