Bright College Days (Vorkosiverse, PG-13)

[browngirl]

Title: Bright College Days
Fandom: Bujold's Vorkosiverse
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Bel Thorne / Miles Vorkosigan
Summary: Bel reminisces about college coursework.
Warnings/Spoilers: For crack, maybe.
Acknowledgements: lomedet, who is far too good to me, and quietann for being among other niftinesses one of my strongest connections to Bujold fandom. Also, jadelennox, petronelle, and hyel.
Disclaimer: None of these characters or their settings belong to me.
Title from the Tom Lehrer song of the same name.


"Barrayarans!" swore Bel Thorne. Rather like my mother, Miles thought, although Bel added a certain flourish by brandishing its fist overhead. "Backwards, inbred, uncivilized, mudsucking Barrayarans!"

"Right here, Thorne," Miles drawled, propping his feet on the table and trying not to give Bel the satisfaction of his laughter. "Also, bankrolling your pay chit."

"Don't remind me." Bel swung its hand down to grab the bottle off the low table, stroking Miles' foot familiarly on the way. Miles noted, with a dispassion as clear and alcoholic as the bottle's now-scant contents, that he didn't flinch from Bel's touch when he was drunk. Luckily, Bel, being Betan through and through, got more ethical as it got drunker, saving Miles from having to make himself mind if it made an attempt on his virtue.

Tipping its head back as it tilted the bottle ceilingwards, Bel's hair looked that much longer streaming back, hardly any masculine bulge to its long throat. Bonelessly warm with liquor and a job well done, Miles sprawled a little more and watched Bel drink, swing the bottle down liquid-smoothly, and wipe its mouth with the back of one long hand.

"You're staring," Bel said, looking sideways at Miles, who blinked, made a command decision to ignore his flaring cheeks, and tilted his chin up. Bel grinned, bright and wide as something sleekly predatory, and plunked the bottle down on the table. "You don't even look Barrayaran like that."

"On the contrary," Miles murmured, "getting drunk is a time-honored Barrayaran tradition."

"On nasty sludge fermented by wild germs, no less," parried Bel. "And what kind of sex do Barrayarans have afterwards? Do you even have more than two sexual positions? I bet down there female on top is considered dangerously deviant." Bel dropped its silky head besides Miles' on the couch, gesturing as it gazed off into its memories. "Back when I was in University I took a couple of course on the LPST track."

"LPST...oh." It took Miles a moment to remember that the acronym stood for 'Licensed Practical Sexual Therapist', whereupon he really blushed.

Fortunately, Bel didn't visibly notice. Blessed alcohol. "I never had any plans to become one -- I'm not nearly diplomatic enough." They both chuckled at that. "But it was such a pleasant field of study. Surprisingly complex, but with lots of incentive to show up to class."

"No doubt," Miles murmured encouragingly. This was shaping up to be one fascinating reminisce.

"My favorite was the course covering sexual positions -- an entire term! The number of different assortments would make a factorial problem. Herm/herm, herm/male, herm/female, male/female, male/male, female/female, and that was even before we got to the basic threesomes..." By now Bel was drawing shapes in the air that looked positively obscene. "Advanced threesomes, foursomes, and orgies -- the technical term was 'further multiples' -- those were mentioned briefly, since they were covered in another course for subject majors only. The professors probably thought the rest of us didn't have the stamina." Bel waggled its eyebrows, and Miles realized he'd been listening raptly.

Bel paused, then said too casually, "Oh, and you should have seen the lab segment of the course."

Miles gave Bel the satisfaction of a shocked choking noise. It was one thing to envision a classroom of bright young faces taking notes off a pornographic chalkboard, but thoughts of the lab practicals made his head spin and heat curl in his vitals. "Just imagine it. College kids getting naked for schoolwork, three times a week. The instructors made us switch lab partners every two weeks; we herms were always very popular because we're so... versatile." Bel leaned closer, breath softly warm on Miles' cheek, settling its hand ever so lightly on his chest. Miles breathed, feeling Bel's hand over his heart, and didn't melt towards it, and didn't shift away. Possibly, he'd misestimated Bel's ethics while drunk. Quite probably, he really didn't mind if he had. "What do you think, Miles Naismith?" Bel purred in his ear. "Would you have liked to do your lab work with me?"

Comments

[lomedet.livejournal.com]

That there? is some amazing meta. I've always had this fondness for Beta Colony, and it's also always sort of creeped me out, and I think you just articulated the 'why' of both of those things. Thank you!

[jamjar.livejournal.com]

It's interesting! And I think there's something to the fact that Cordelia was in the Betan Astronomical Survey and Bel became a mercenary. There is a place for people that are talented and daring and comfortable with risk, but not on Beta. Which makes sense, because Beta itself if pretty inhospitable, limited water, salt mountains, etc. and in a case like that, you can't afford to be risky at home. You have to stay within the lines, because the damage a loose cannon could do is *huge*.

(And on another random note, I still love Cordelia's description of her past lover. "Pornography was permitted, poetry was not.")

[(Anonymous)]

This: You have to stay within the lines, because the damage a loose cannon could do is *huge*. and this: "Pornography was permitted, poetry was not." make me wonder about the existence of Betan poetry at all. I can't remember what canon gives us, but I'm left with the feeling that Beta proper is such a technocratic society that there isn't much room for art making. On the one hand, I'm sure that there is government-sponsored artistic something, but on the other, I can imagine a lot of artists, like the explorers and other misfits, choosing to not stay on Beta.

[lomedet.livejournal.com]

er, Ny - that anonymous comment was me (please unscreen it?). sorry!

[jamjar.livejournal.com]

I think there probably is a lot of poetry, dance, art, etc. It's high tech society, but we have Cordelia thinking that an antique parquet wooden floor would have been preserved and safeguarded as a great work of art on Beta, but on Barrayar, they use it to dance on. I'm pretty sure they have art and appreciate it, though I think they might have different standards for judging it and also for what's acceptable behaviour for an artist.

Which makes me think of Barrayar. There's a bit where Miles is going through the attic and finds a beautiful, hand-crafted saddle made for his... I want to say grandmother? And he says something like how he feels it should either be given to "one of those historians, the ones that fall in love across ages" or be kept and used, because otherwise it's a waste of it's art.

And I wonder if that's a Barrayan thing, that they have great works of artistry, but that they used be used. That like music needs to be played, paintings need to be seen, the purpose of something has to be fulfilled to show off the art. Purpose over preservation.

And that's something that comes from having people that can afford to buy and replace these things, but also, possibly, from people that know the fragility of life. Might die of poison tomorrow, let's dance the night away now!

[lomedet.livejournal.com]

Cordelia thinking that an antique parquet wooden floor would have been preserved and safeguarded as a great work of art on Beta, but on Barrayar, they use it to dance on.

I had always assumed that the preservation and safeguarding had more to do with the scarcity and value of wood on Beta, and was less about the art/craftsmanship per se, but I could be persuaded otherwise...

I like what you suggest about the Barrayaran mentality lending itself to art that can be/should be used and enjoyed, and not preserved for the sake of preservation. Barrayar is by definition a world rich in natural resources, so it makes sense to me that they wouldn't think twice about things like wood flooring.

Beta, on the other hand, is a world with very few natural resources, so things made from natural materials must be consequently much more highly valued. There isn't, canonically, any poverty on Beta (which leads be to believe that there isn't any great individual wealth, either), so I don't know that it's an issue of Betans being able to afford beautiful things, but they're likely to be beautiful things made of the synthetics that everyone has access to.

I think you're right that the standards for beauty and art on Beta are probably more different from Earth-standard than those on Barrayar. Neither are perfect analogues for Earth, but Barrayar's culture is, I think, closer to ours (in positive and negative ways) than Beta is. Which is why my first instinct was to imagine a lack of poetry on Beta, rather than simply poetry of their own.

[rubynye.livejournal.com]

I love this discussion SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO much.

I always saw the poetry thing as... on Beta, you're a Professional Poet or you don't write it; amateur poetry in a love letter would get you a funny look.

More later. Did I mention I adore this discussion?

Bujold has said

[capplor.livejournal.com]

that Beta is based on California. Of course she's not from there, so she's thinking of the hippy-dippy parts. (California has rednecks, too; I'm related by marriage to several)

Re: Bujold has said

[rubynye.livejournal.com]

Yeah, but didn't the rednecks go settle Barrayar? ;)

[keerawa.livejournal.com]

Intriguing meta! And of course Beta recognize and has safe ways of channeling the needs towards risk, danger, and deviance. But if those are not enough, you can be shunted off-world somewhere where you won't cause any harm!