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A Year to Fall in Love Disclaimer: The characters and world of this story belong to Lois McMaster Bujold and Baen's Universe. I'm not making any money off either
this site or the story itself.
Feedback, while never required, does help feed the Muse. As always, it's sahiyaATgmailDOTcom or simply follow the link at the end of the story to my LJ and leave a comment. When Crown Prince Vasha Vorkosigan-Vorbarra was eighteen he went to Beta Colony for a year and fell in love. Her name was Cynthia and she was utterly unimpressed with him. This had, quite naturally, never happened to him before, and made her all the more desirable, even if she did turn her nose up at him as a feudal throwback to pre-atomic Old Earth. She lectured him on democracy; he listened, enraptured by the lilting quality of her voice. Enraptured, at least, until the day she said, in dead seriousness, "What you really should do is just give it all up. Write a constitution and have the people elect a president. Abolish the Vor." Vasha blinked at her. "What?" "Give it up! Force democracy upon Barrayar! Lead the revolution!" She leaned forward and added, in a conspiratorial whisper, "I'd help." "Lead . . . a revolution . . . against myself?" he said, bewildered. "No! Well, yes, I suppose. But don't think of it that way." She slipped her arm around his waist, the most she'd ever deigned to touch him thus far. "You'd make history." "I'd be dead," Vasha said, frowning, "in four days." He looked down at the top of her head, her pretty, pretty head, and sighed to himself. What she'd said was not entirely without merit, and in fact he'd been reading quite a lot this year in his course on Comparative Galactic Government about constitutional monarchies, because truly, the Time of Isolation was long past. Da and Father had done their best, of course, but Vasha was not quite as idiotic as everyone seemed to think and he knew it'd be up to him to help Barrayar bridge that gap. Well, him and Aral and Natasha and whoever else he could drag along for what was sure to be a bumpy ride. Cynthia was smiling at him, eyes shining. She was a bit silly, Vasha thought, and more idealistic than was quite safe. She'd never make a good Empress. But then, Vasha wasn't looking for an Empress just then; he wasn't really looking for a politics debate either. Vasha was eighteen, and she was lovely, and he wanted to get laid. He kissed her neck just below her ear and felt her shiver. "Tell me," he murmured in her ear, nuzzling gently and breathing in the scent of her hair, "about the Betan Bill of Rights." *~*~*
When Prince Aral Vorkosigan-Vorbarra was eighteen he went to Beta Colony for a year and fell in love. Not with a person; goodness, no, he was far too busy with his studies. But with Beta itself. On Beta, no one cared who his fathers were - and really no one cared that he had fathers, plural. No one ever called him Prince Aral, and when he was praised for his work, he knew it was because he'd done something worthy of it, and not because he was who he was. Who he was didn't matter at all, in fact. He was treated the same as all the other first year biology students. He did menial labor in the university genetics lab; he took basic biology, physics, and chemistry courses, and felt he was drowning because there was so much he didn't know compared to the other students; he stayed up all night studying and went to classes feeling like hell the next day. He loved every minute of it. He never wanted to go back. Vasha had warned him about this. Well, sort of. Vasha had told him not to fall in love on Beta because eventually he'd have to leave. Aral wondered if Vasha had ever thought that perhaps he didn't have to - that maybe staying was an option after all. Because Aral was beginning to think exactly that. He was the spare, wasn't he? He wasn't needed on Barrayar, not really. He could stay on his beloved Beta with Grandma Cordelia and Uncle Mark and Aunt Kareen and no one would get hurt. Except . . . Except his communiques from Da were increasingly filled with plans for the district when he returned. Da didn't have much time for it these days, what will helping Father run the planet and all, and the district needed someone's attention. Things were running all right for now, but they could be so much better; Hassadar had a transportation infrastructure, but there were a couple other towns that needed them now, too, and eventually they simply had to get running water and electricity to all the mountain towns. Hospitals and roads and com networks . . . Grandma Cordelia came into his room one evening while he was reading the latest and sat down beside him on his bed. "Oh, kiddo," she said with a sympathetic sigh. Aral stared at the screen of the comconsole miserably. "It's not fair. I either have to break his heart or my own." She nodded and smoothed a hand over his hair. She didn't say anything though, and later Aral thought that was because even then she'd known what he would choose. If he'd only been a Vorbarra then perhaps he'd have stood a chance. But in the end he was a Vorkosigan, and they were meant to serve. *~*~*
When Princess Natasha Vorkosigan-Vorbarra was eighteen she went to Beta Colony for a year and fell in love. Not just a little bit in love like Vasha with that silly wanna-be revolutionary, what's-her-name, the one that had made Da and Father wince whenever he talked about her - no, this was different, and not only because Natasha had a significantly longer attention span than did Vasha. Her name was Sam, short for Samantha, and she was smaller than Natasha, with a slightly crooked nose, small, strong hands, and a back that had made something go hard and tight inside of Natasha the first time she'd seen Sam in a sarong. Samantha loved her, too. It would have been easier if she hadn't, but she did. Grandma Cordelia sighed when Natasha told her about it. "I was wondering what you were going to do to make this year hard on yourself." "You make it sound like I chose it," Natasha said, frowning. "I didn't. It just happened." Grandma Cordelia raised her eyebrows at her. "Believe me, I know better than most that we don't choose who we fall in love with. And neither of your brothers chose his, er, challenges either. Or at least, not precisely." "Oh," Natasha said quietly. It was just for the year, Natasha said, to both herself and Samantha. Beyond that, she couldn't stay. She'd promised Da and Father and Aral - even Vasha expected her back, not that Natasha cared about him (no, really, she didn't). And yet, when it came time, she didn't know how she could possibly bring herself to leave. She lay with Sam that last night in her room in Grandma Cordelia's apartment and tried one last time to convince her to come with her back to Barrayar. "You shouldn't judge it before you see it," she said. "It's beautiful, really, and we're getting much more galactic." "Stay here," Sam replied, pushing herself up on one elbow. She cupped Natasha's breast in one hand. "You don't have to go back to any of it. They won't understand you there anymore." No, Natasha reflected, they probably wouldn't. And yet, the next morning when it was time to leave for the shuttleport, she discovered what Vasha and Aral had before her - that no matter how hard you fell during your year on Beta, Barrayar had already laid claim to you long ago. Fin. |