maskormenacelogs | (no subject)

Oh! [ his eyes widen, alarmed. ] No, no, no thank you. Maybe there are some elves out there who'd agree, but I'm afraid I'm not one of them.

Don't worry, I completely agree. Cetaganda is an old enemy of Barrayar.

It seems strange to me that entire planets might at some point be at war with one another. [ for the same reasons? land, wealth, differences in ideology and religion-- ] It's difficult enough directing one on the scale of a nation.

Oh, not just planets in this case. The Barrayaran Imperium is three planets strong and the Cetagandan Empire has eight.

[ he actually looks a little horrified. ]

.. Poor Gregor. [ what a horrible job to have, running not just an entire planet, but three. ... or eight, in the case of the cetagandans. (not everyone is as deeply involved as you are, mahanon.) ] I certainly don't envy his job.

Nor do I. He ... doesn't always enjoy it, but I'm trying to make it an easier burden to bear.

Who would? [ enjoy it, that is. he's never understood people who want to rule. he hadn't even wanted to be the next keeper of his clan, much less the inquisitor. the pressure is enormous. .. of course, on the other hand, not all rulers actually care about what they're in charge of, so perhaps that makes it easier. ] He's lucky to have you, I'm certain. And others who want to actually help him. Good advisers are easily worth their weight in gold.

Well. I wouldn't consider myself an advisor, exactly ...

[ he hums out an amused noise. ] No, I suppose you'd be in an altogether different category. I was mostly putting it in terms of what I have.

[ because he seriously has good advisers. josephine alone is worth all the frilly luxury in orlais. ]

... Oh. Yes, I should have thought of that. Who do you have?

As far as advisers? .. Probably not nearly as many as Gregor must need, given the three entire planets thing. Four make up my war council, not including myself.

[ keeps things simple, and it certainly keeps information from getting out prematurely. he leaves it to them to delegate to their staffs as necessary.

a small sigh. ] Though that doesn't include the number that aren't involved in my war council. Or the-- the petitioners and Chantry clergy and-- [ a fluttery gesture of both hands. ] --all of that.. nonsense.

[ Miles' expression is instantly sympathetic. ]

Those don't count. They're anti-advisors. The wolves themselves.

Edited 2016-05-13 00:20 (UTC)

Wolves. [ his mouth quirks. ] An apt description, at times. You sound a little too familiar with them, yourself.

Very much so. Through Gregor first and foremost, but ... well, I am a Count's heir.

[ okay, but this is something he realizes he's wanted to ask about. he leans in a little, pale eyes interested. ]

How does your government work, exactly? The.. counts. Is it merely a-- a title, or does it hold political or military clout, or..?

[ human governments always seem so needlessly complicated. it's hard to believe his own people had once had a similar system. ]

All three, in fact. Counts are expected to make laws and defend their district. Preferably not from each other, but there are border disputes. And the Vor class in general is highly militarized, so ...

Someone like me is quite unusual.

[ he straightens in apparent surprise, giving miles a slightly puzzled glance over. he's small for a human, yes, but dwarves and elves are small and do just fine. of course, he's also quite thin by human standards, almost to the point of fragility, and his back--

ah. ]

A certain look is expected, I suppose? [ he pauses, teeth catching at his lower lip in thought. should he ask? .. no. they don't know one another well enough yet, it would be too personal, surely. anyway, in a place like this, it's probably arrogant to assume there's anything he can do about it. ] .. Well, regardless of look, I can't imagine you're any less capable. Still.. [ his tone warms. ] Frontrunner indeed.

[ Stooped, frail, and very much not a warrior. So very far from Barrayaran ideals...

He shrugs, awkwardly. ]

Frontrunner indeed. Those coming after will have an easier time of it ... My mind is capable, of course, but my body leaves much to be desired.

[ oh, void take it. he's going to ask, and hopefully he won't ruin things in the process. ]

Miles. [ he stops there, looking troubled, fingers lacing together in his lap again. ] I-- You don't have to answer, of course, because I know it's personal, and please know that I'm not just asking out of idle curiousity, but-- [ oh, get it out, mahanon. ] Do you.. deal with much pain daily?

[ That's normally a question he doesn't care to answer for outsiders. It's bad enough admitting it to his family ... but he finds that, as inebriated as he is, he can't quite convince himself to care. ]

Oh, of course. I'm too big for my bones, if that can be believed. Using my powers to get smaller eases it, but ... I'd rather not.

[ the casual 'oh, of course' makes his heart twist painfully in his chest. as if it's simply a fact of existence for him. has it been like that all his life?

he reaches for a little pouch he keeps on his belt, pulling out what looks like a twist of some kind of root. he wraps it in a bar napkin, then sets it in front of the other man. ]

This is elfroot. [ he flexes his left hand, turning it palm up. ] The Anchor.. [ he hesitates, uncertain how to put it. ] Well, it's distracting. [ it aches. sometimes it hurts so badly that he wouldn't complain much if someone just cut his entire arm off. ] I use elfroot for it. It's a healing plant, a-- a painkiller. My people have used it for thousands of years now. [ a slightly embarrassed pause. ] If you decide to try it and like it, I'll grow a few plants for you, too.

[ As long as he can remember. Worse before; infinitely better here, with his family taking on much of it via their telepathic links. Even so there are days...

Miles blinks down at the root in Mahanon's hands. Can he even take something like this? Is it possible he'd be allergic? He has such poor luck with Barrayar's vegetation ... Yet he reaches out for it rather shyly, his expression awed. ]

How do I use it? Eat it, brew it, make it into a salve...?

[ oh, thank mythal, he hasn't offended him. he manages a small, relieved smile, folding the little root in miles' hands and pressing them gently. ]

The root you can just chew on. The flavour.. [ he breathes a laugh. ] Well, it takes some getting used to. If it's too strong for you, you can boil it in water to make a tea. [ he measures out about an inch with thumb and forefinger. ] You only need about this much at a time. The tea's fine for minor aches and pains, chewing the root directly for stronger pain. It should last a couple of hours either way. [ if he can find all the ingredients he needs, he'll put together proper healing drinks and salves. ]

I ... thank you. I'm not sure if I'll be able to take it, but if I can ...

[ Offended is the last thing he's feeling right now. In a world where the medical care is well below what he's used to, having anything that might work better is a relief. ]

[ oh yes. that's certainly a possibility, he supposes, with people on other worlds. ]

Oh, fenedhis, yes, please don't try it until you're with someone, just in case. I've never even heard of someone in Thedas having a bad reaction to it, but better safe than sorry.

[ his smile brightens and warms, lighting his entire face. ] I think it'll be fine, though. And it's an easy plant to care for-- if you'd like, I'll even show you how to grow it later.