beatrice_otter (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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crack_van2011-03-29 12:20 am
beatrice_otter) wrote in crack_van2011-03-29 12:20 am
Entry tags:
Refugees of War by Salable Mystic (Gen Aud)
Fandom: VORKOSIVERSE
Pairing: Aral/Cordelia
Length: 4k words
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
salable_mystic, ![[personal profile]](https://s.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
salable-mystic
Author Website: AO3
Why this must be read:
The prompt was: "Cordelia/Aral, the AU where he really does move to Beta Colony and become a judo instructor" This is almost that AU, but *not quite*. I love this AU for all the possibilities it has, and I dearly hope Mystic writes a sequel some day--I want to know how this came about, and I want to know what happens next. Cordelia never went to Barrayar. Vordarian wins the Civil War. Aral and Gregor arrive at the Naismith's apartment on Barrayar--think of the possibilities!
The vid pickup showed her that there was a man standing outside her door – a man with short dark hair and of stocky build, with a smooth face that spoke of recent regeneration work. He looked exhausted, weighed down, somehow, and there were dark purple bruises under his eyes, that spoke of not enough sleep and too many worries. From the way he carried himself he seemed slightly ill at ease in the Betan clothes he was wearing, so her guess of ‘Barrayaran refugee’ was very likely correct. And if he was Barrayaran, then he was probably in his forties, though the regen work made it rather hard to tell. His left hand was raised, as if he wanted to touch the announcer button again, and with his right arm he held a small child – a boy, about two years old – cradled on one hip. The boy seemed to be asleep, his head curled against the man’s shoulder.
He did not startle at her rather brusque question, she noticed, but he did seem to clutch the boy to himself a bit more tightly. His voice, when he answered, sounded firm: “Hello? I am looking for Commander Cordelia Naismith. I was told that I might find her here? We have been assigned to an apartment in this complex, and I … .”
Impatiently, Elizabeth gestured for the door to open. There was being brisk, and then there was being rude, and she did not want to be rude on account of being annoyed with Cordelia and the situation in general. After all, the man probably had enough to deal with already. And it was a – tragic – fact of life that Cordelia had volunteered to be the Betan liaison for refugees assigned to this complex, and so Barrayarans had been coming by with bizarre questions and problems for weeks now – and anyway, this whole situation would be over much faster if Elizabeth just told the guy face to face that yes, Cordelia lived here, and no, Cordelia was not here right now, and if he just went back to his assigned quarters then Cordelia would stop by later in the day and Elizabeth could get back to work and everyone would be happy. Hence – opening the door was a good idea. So she did.
Refugees of War
Pairing: Aral/Cordelia
Length: 4k words
Author on LJ:
salable_mystic, salable-mystic Author Website: AO3
Why this must be read:
The prompt was: "Cordelia/Aral, the AU where he really does move to Beta Colony and become a judo instructor" This is almost that AU, but *not quite*. I love this AU for all the possibilities it has, and I dearly hope Mystic writes a sequel some day--I want to know how this came about, and I want to know what happens next. Cordelia never went to Barrayar. Vordarian wins the Civil War. Aral and Gregor arrive at the Naismith's apartment on Barrayar--think of the possibilities!
The vid pickup showed her that there was a man standing outside her door – a man with short dark hair and of stocky build, with a smooth face that spoke of recent regeneration work. He looked exhausted, weighed down, somehow, and there were dark purple bruises under his eyes, that spoke of not enough sleep and too many worries. From the way he carried himself he seemed slightly ill at ease in the Betan clothes he was wearing, so her guess of ‘Barrayaran refugee’ was very likely correct. And if he was Barrayaran, then he was probably in his forties, though the regen work made it rather hard to tell. His left hand was raised, as if he wanted to touch the announcer button again, and with his right arm he held a small child – a boy, about two years old – cradled on one hip. The boy seemed to be asleep, his head curled against the man’s shoulder.
He did not startle at her rather brusque question, she noticed, but he did seem to clutch the boy to himself a bit more tightly. His voice, when he answered, sounded firm: “Hello? I am looking for Commander Cordelia Naismith. I was told that I might find her here? We have been assigned to an apartment in this complex, and I … .”
Impatiently, Elizabeth gestured for the door to open. There was being brisk, and then there was being rude, and she did not want to be rude on account of being annoyed with Cordelia and the situation in general. After all, the man probably had enough to deal with already. And it was a – tragic – fact of life that Cordelia had volunteered to be the Betan liaison for refugees assigned to this complex, and so Barrayarans had been coming by with bizarre questions and problems for weeks now – and anyway, this whole situation would be over much faster if Elizabeth just told the guy face to face that yes, Cordelia lived here, and no, Cordelia was not here right now, and if he just went back to his assigned quarters then Cordelia would stop by later in the day and Elizabeth could get back to work and everyone would be happy. Hence – opening the door was a good idea. So she did.
Refugees of War