The Wine Cart by Glishara (Gen Aud)

[beatrice_otter]

Fandom: VORKOSIVERSE
Characters: Miles, Piotr
Length: 2600 words
Author on LJ: glishara, glishara
Author Website:  AO3
Why this must be read:

This story takes place when Miles was a child, after his grandfather Piotr has become reconciled to Miles.  When Count Piotr holds a meeting with some of his fellow counts to sway their votes on an upcoming bill, Miles slips in with the wine cart to listen in.  This is Piotr at his best: canny, political, using his brain instead of his prejudices.  In this story Miles and Piotr are perfectly written, and we can see why Miles loved him even if he is not perfectly comfortable around him.  And also where Miles learned a lot of his tricks of persuasion.

"—good god, man, you can't expect us to just sit quietly while that twelve-toed bastard rams this down our throats!"

An hour earlier, Miles thought, Count Vorinnis would have stopped talking when the door to the green parlor opened. Now, no one other than Count Vorkosigan even seemed to notice as Esterhazy pushed in the wine cart.

"That 12-toed bastard is my son, Dimitri," Grandfather pointed out. He didn't seem terribly offended to Miles' practiced eye. He had noticed the wine cart, and Miles skulking along in its wake. Though he spoke to Count Vorinnis, his eyes were on Miles, and the wrinkles around his left eye deepened briefly. It wasn't quite a wink: acknowledgment, perhaps? Miles chose to read it as permission, and darted over to a wing-back chair near the fireplace, turned away from the rest of the room.

"Damn it all, Piotr, your boy's gone mad with this authority," Vorinnis said, his cheeks flushing red with more than the brandy. As Miles knelt on the chair, facing the room in almost-concealment, he could see that Vorinnis's glass was empty. Esterhazy whisked away the empty brandy bottle and glasses with his usual quiet efficiency. "You know it's no slight on you."

"Still, I suspect Olivia would have taken some offense." Grandfather's voice was very dry.

"Ah. Well, I didn't – " Vorinnis foundered for a moment in the tangle of his own insults, but found a convenient exit in the glass of Dendarii district wine Esterhazy pressed into his hand.

"Still, Piotr," a more sober Count Vorbretten took over the argument from his intoxicated colleague, "the point remains that he's positioning the issue for his own advantage, as always. Dimitri surely meant no slight on your late wife, but your son's will be the death of us all in the end. We're imported galactic medicine and galactic technology with mixed results, but I hardly think we need to add galactic depravity." Miles hunkered a little lower in his chair, back arching with silent indignation.

 

The Wine Cart