[CLOSED]

[dendarii]

WHO: Miles, Aral, and Cordelia
WHERE: The Vorkosigan Residence
WHEN: Pre-blackout
WHAT: Burning an offering for an absent friend.
WARNINGS: Nothing graphic, but likely discussion topics are suicide, violence, death, infanticide, etc. Mid-series spoilers for RVB.

[ It has been a hilariously shitty month for the Vorkosigan household. First Gregor, with all the resulting implosions from Miles, then Simon. And now Tex has vanished with the exact same lack of warning as the other two.

But Tex is different from Gregor and Simon. For all that Miles grieves the loss of his lover, knowing that odds are poor that he will ever get that chunk of himself back, Gregor will still be alive whenever Miles returns. Memories or no memories. And Simon, well ... Miles doesn't particularly need Simon to remember anything from this place. Nothing in particular lost there despite Miles having been sad to see him go. But Tex is going home to death. To nothing at all. And there is no hope of seeing her again ...

This is how Miles finds himself with his parents early in the morning, setting up a small metal dish in the backyard. He has his grandfather's seal dagger in one hand and a box of incense in the other. He rests both on the ground for a moment, just staring at the tableau in front of him. Miles himself is terribly gray around the edges, having taken each successive blow with less sleep, less appetite, and more days spent in bed rather than doing anything at all. ]

Comments

[use_everything]

[ His father has a few small things in hand, reminders, things that had been dear while Miles sets up the small dish. He hadn't done many of these lately, not as many as he should have in years past. Cordelia chided him for being blood glutted. More practically, Aral didn't think he'd have hair left if he'd cut it for every man who went too soon.

It was just... this cut deeply. The plans they'd made to find a way to bring her back to their own world, to spite her fate stood in failure. It happened and often in life. It didn't make this any easier.


Set in the plate with steady hands and simple gestures was a chewed length of their dog's first collar, a page out of their impromptu and convoluted rulebook, this one covering mercenary interference in the game, and a piece of paper folded four times, the contents one of the sketches he had meant to give her. ]

I like to think she'd pretend to hate this.

[dendarii]

[ Miles, meanwhile, has few mementos that his father hasn't covered already. A copy of her last bonus payment. Copies of the photos she'd taken (and sold). And finally, a lock of his own hair, tucked into place right next to the incense. His hair is short but he's enough to spare for a situation like this. ]

We'd have to pay her a bonus for it. And she'd claim superstition as qualification for this hazardous pay.

[use_everything]

[ He'd thought about burning some of the American money as well, but instead of summoning back the angry ghost of Tex, it was likely to summon the very live Mark Vorkosigan. The thought had brought a little smile then - and now. ]

Triple time sounds right. I imagine her account should stay open, in case. [ He makes a 'pass it over' gesture to the knife. ]

[dendarii]

[ He does so, with a faint smile of his own. Poor Mark. ]

I agree. Perhaps ... perhaps we'll get a second chance, someday.

[use_everything]

That would be the hope.

[ There's a long moment, staring almost blankly at the seal blade between his hands before letting out a long, deliberate breath. The second lock of hair joins the first, and the blade returned, hilt first. ]

[dendarii]

[ Miles accepts it, then turns to hand it to Cordelia as well. Also hilt first. ]

What will you miss most?

[use_everything]

The wit. The late night conversations. The good humour.

[dendarii]

[ God. It already hurts to speak. ]

The humor, yes. She had such a dry way of plucking me out of danger without letting me forget it.

[use_everything]

[ It does. Tight at the back of the throat, constricted about the chest. ]

And in one piece. Impressive for half of the incidents I'd read on. [ And watched the videos of... ] She was good with you, even when you were a child.

[dendarii]

[ Miles manages a weak laugh. ]

I wonder what would have happened if you had managed to bring her home. With her and Bothari both watching over me.

[use_everything]

[ That does bring a fond smile and a curious need to blink. ]

I wonder how crafty you'll be needing to have outwitted two guards of that calibre.

[dendarii]

Ridiculously so. You'd have created a monster.

[use_everything]

[ The 'I would look forward to it' simply dies. He ends up saying nothing in reply, just looking down at his empty hands. ]

[dendarii]

[ That's the unspoken caveat to all this. Could have. Would have ...

Miles' gaze falls back down to the dish. All of his exhaustion settles on him like a leaden mantle, dragging every part of him down. ]

I wish we'd never come.

[keep_nothing]

Don't say that, [ Cordelia speaks up softly for the first time since she came outside. The blade Miles handed to her is still in her hands, not yet ready to offer a part of herself to the flames. ] We never would have known her otherwise.

[use_everything]

I cannot find it in me to regret. There is too much here...

[dendarii]

All the more to lose, inevitably.

[ He doesn't really mean that. But both Gregor and Tex are knocking around in his head right now. His head is a darker place without their lights to illuminate it. ]

[keep_nothing]

[ Cordelia wills herself to stop gripping the knife so tightly, relaxing her grip so that when she reaches out for Miles her hand is comforting rather than stiff. She threads her fingers through the hair at the back of his head, cradling him there. ]

Yet we've gained so much despite our losses. And I would like to think that she did too.

[use_everything]

I'd not pass up the chance to meet you or your brother now.

[ It's easier with Cordelia here, for Aral, to simply look to her was a grounding stone to organizing his thoughts. ]
...

Nor her. Even things that become sour later, there's a disservice in forgetting what made them good at the time.

[dendarii]

[ Harder for Miles; his rock has gone, and everything else wobbles terribly as a result. He's silent for a long moment, leaning against his mother. ]

Even so. It hurts all that much more now.

[keep_nothing]

Some pains are meant to make you stronger, love. Even when we don't want to be.

[ She leans down to press a kiss to Miles' hair. ]

[dendarii]

[ He reaches a hand around her waist, gripping the edge of her hirt rather hard. ]

I don't want it, dammit. Next it will be one of you two.

[keep_nothing]

[ She turns into his embrace, holding back her other arm from wrapping around him only long enough to pass the knife back to Aral. She didn't want it while she was holding her son. ]

We're here now, Miles.

[use_everything]

[ Now there IS a real fear... one or the other of them leaving first. Aral presses his lips into a hard line, not commenting. He takes the knife and sets it on the far side of them.


And settles his hand over Miles' much smaller as his own show of solidarity.]

[dendarii]

[ It's something. It's all he has right now. But even trying to focus on that bright spot hurts ...

He turns to face his mother as he turns his hand to grip Aral's in turn. And he begins to sob quietly against Cordelia. ]

[keep_nothing]

[ Cordelia was going to continue with something she hoped would have been comforting, but the moment she heard that first sob, her own throat seized up. She grips Miles' hair more tightly as she fights her own tears. ]

[dendarii]

[ Sorry, Mom. He stills after a moment, his sobs having died away to trembling instead. What a goddamn mess this month has been. ]

[use_everything]

[ Over Miles back, Aral's brow draws down, expression a little ... deeply uncertain of what to do in this situation. Barrayar will teach you how to fire three weapons before you can walk, but not how to deal with actual emotions. ]

[keep_nothing]

[ She keeps one arm wrapped around Miles, the other she entangles from his hair to reach out to Aral. ]

[dendarii]

[ It's a big ol' Vorkosigan crying pile. Miles just goes limp after a while, wiping awkwardly at his face. ]

Hard ... hard for all of us.

[keep_nothing]

[ Well mostly crying pile plus an emotionally constipated support structure for Cordelia to lean on, but it works. Aral can just deal with Cordelia wiping her nose on his shoulder.

She releases Miles enough to let him wipe his eyes, not wanting to restrict his movements. ]

But that's why we're doing this ...

[dendarii]

[ He scrubs at his eyes with the heel of his hand, then. Slowly finding equilibrium, if not peace. ]

Mm. A chance to mourn.

[use_everything]

[ THANKS CORDELIA. If not one for displays, he finds some gratitude in the catharsis of theirs. He leaves them space in his silence, watching the small fire. ]

[keep_nothing]

[ SHE LOVES YOU ARAL. She waits until Miles is bit more balanced before she takes her hand away from his hair, though she keeps the hand on his back resting there for a while longer.

With a hand now free, she sets her own momentos within the offering plate: a photo Tex had taken of them on their first date to the beach printed to physical media for today's purpose, and a small bulb of the beer Tex liked best, meant to shatter under the heat and add fuel to the flames once burned.

She then holds her hand out for the knife again. ]

[dendarii]

[ He reaches out to take it and pass it back. And smiles weakly at that picture. ]

The beach, huh? I took her there for our first date.

[ Like mother, like son, apparently. ]

[use_everything]

[ Don't say me too, don't say me too.

Sometimes one merely has to hope for the best, expecting the very Betan worst. ]

[keep_nothing]

[ Cordelia blinks down at her son. There's disbelief in her expression, but it's slowly growing into a grin when she realizes just how that sounds. ]

You did?

[dendarii]

[ He's missing something here. But even bewilderment is better than grief right now. ]

Yes. I certainly did. Picnic with alcohol, even.

[use_everything]

[ .................................. HE KNOWS EXACTLY WHERE THIS CONVERSATION IS GOING. He clears his throat, pulling back from the both of them. ]

Perhaps we should move inside, pour a few drinks.

[keep_nothing]

[ She glances at Aral, taking the hint even as her grin threatens to grow wider. ]

Alright. Let's light this then go in.

[dendarii]

[ Mom. Please. Miles nods and moves to strike a match. It catches the edge of Aral's sketch first, charred ripples extending out through the paper. And then outwards to the other offerings. Before long, the bowl's offerings are all ablaze, and the acrid smell of hair mingles with the scent of the incense.

Miles pauses a moment, sobering as the smoke jumps up. ]

There.

[use_everything]

[ They didn't really have prayers. It wasn't part of their culture at all. The closest they got was the incense and flames and some hope that it did what it is meant to do. If she can't have luck, then some peace and rest, perhaps.

He ends up staring past when the last have burned, crumpled in on itself in a quickly cooling pile. ]

Let's go back in.

[keep_nothing]

[ She reaches out for both of her boys, one arm around Miles' shoulder and her other around Aral's torso as they walk back in. ]

[dendarii]

[ Miles nods wordlessly, his steps matching his parents'. ]