‘Come On, Ginny’s Not Bad,’ Said George Fairly, Sitting Down Next To Fred. ‘Actually, I Dunno

heyyy you mentioned vorkosigan fic recs yesterday. do you have any you could hand to me? ratty suggested aral vorkosigan's dog (i think that's the name?) to me already, but i haven't gotten to it yet. thank u

HEY, I had to wait a couple days to have time to reread things, because I knew that was inevitable. 

Aptitude - Miles added, “Security was never on my top-ten list of assignment choices.“ "Not choice. Aptitude.” (-The Vor Game)This is EXACTLY what you wanted. Miles and Ivan and SImon and fluff and Aral and politics and espionage and fireworks!! And more fluff.

Uncle Simon - Simon has no children of his own. But he has an honorary nephew.This is also exactly what you want, with less politics and more things that will squeeze your heart in a mostly good but slightly painful way. But stop after “doubting his word” if you want to avoid more significant spoilers.

Lord Gregor AU - An alternate universe in which Prince Serg Vorbarra did not die at Escobar, but lived to become Emperor of Barrayar.AU of Barrayar, basically, which I’m pretty sure you’ve read. 

Liegeman - Aral and Simon have a conversation after Warrior’s Apprentice. besties and PAIN

Aral Vorkosigan’s Dog - Illyan is assigned to watch Aral Vorkosigan during the Escobaran war. Soon he has to choose between his duty and his conscience, and the consequences rapidly get beyond him.Alternate title: The Wooing of Simon Illyan. Alternate Alternate title: That TIme Ges Vorrutyer was So Awful a Previously Well-Behaved ImpSec Lieutenant Basically Committed Treason (It’s Okay; Negri Planned It).

Young Ivan Series - a collection of drabbles about, you know, Ivan as a kid. Miles features heavily. It’s great.

Victory Conditions - Miles, Ivan, and a couple compatriots discuss their Academy exercise and subsequent debriefing over drinks. (Remix of Improvisation, which recounts the exercise itself.)

Once you’re much later in the series, I will recommend many more fics because this fandom has a disproportionate amount of stellar fic and I don’t understand it. I particularly recommend Philomytha and avanti_90, both of whom are hella prolific and hella good. 

This made me sad, and made me happy, and has my entire heart.

What if Kel was executed for treason in Lady Knight? What if it caused a rebellion? Because you can't tell me that what the world will hear in canon isn't that Wyldon ordered her to follow the refugees. Anything else would create resentment. For all Wyldon's pretty talk, surely he noticed that. And if they tried to hush it up? I don't see Raoul and Alanna letting that happen. And if you knew your king executed nobles for rescuing commoners from a fate worse than death, wouldn't you rebel?

No, no, no, no I can’t do it. Kel is my lady, my light, my love–and I can’t imagine a world where the people on that war front would ever have allowed her death. So let’s tell this story–she was found guilty of treason. She was sentenced to death, kneeling on that Tortallan river mud, enemy territory a stone’s throw behind her, hundreds of abandoned souls saved by her stubborn hands. 

Dutiful misery was stark in the grip Wyldon used to pull her to her feet and tie her hands behind her. (He would not leave that job to a lesser man.) Rage poured off Raoul, simmering, trapped. The King’s Own protested–when they shut themselves up it was not at their commander’s order but at Kel’s quelling shake of her head.

Wyldon could protect Owen, who was his squire and his responsibility. The King’s Own had technically, roughly, been following orders. The rescued civilians were ushered toward safety with faintly awed hands. Kel, Merric, and Neal were ushered forward, too, by awed hands, but it was with their own hands bound behind them and it was not toward safety.

But the awe was there– these knights had done the impossible. They had gone into enemy territory, after monsters made of death and metal, and saved their people. They had done the impossible– they had put protecting homeless peasants above obeying their lord. Wyldon tied each of their hands behind their backs and they did not apologize. Neal raised his chin like he was challenging Wyldon to demand it of him.

But the Giantkiller fortress was flooded with children and civilians who had been written off as collateral damage. After days of hard travel, the children were no longer unnaturally clean and coiffed; they would always be scared. They would always be brave. They would not allow Kel to be the price paid for their lives.

A pretty young woman who had once stabbed a Scanran slaver to death found out where they were keeping Kel and her knights. Children threw tantrums to distract while the ex-convicts picked the locks on their doors. Tobe got the horses and kept them quiet. When they got to the main gates again, Neal ready to put them all to sleep, the guards turned around the same way they had days before and let them through.

Up in the commander’s quarters, Wyldon slept restlessly. He had told Keladry of Mindelan once that he believed the best thing that could be said of his tenure as training master was that she had been in his care. He still believed that to be true, but he had his orders. When they woke him, he would be stranded somewhere between rage and relief.

Only a handful of Haven civilians came out into the woods with Kel that night. Neal tsked about Giantkiller’s healers and worked on them all while Merric went though their stolen saddlepacks and took inventory. Fanche pulled bread, cheese, and knives out of her bulging skirts and passed them around.

Kel sat, staring at the space they would have put a fire if they had thought it was safe to light one. Neal bullied some bread into her and Merric asked, “What do we do now, Kel?”

She considered saying, “Why are you asking me?” but Kel had always been very bad at lying to herself. She looked up at the trees. Fir. Spruce. “There’s a war on,” Kel said. “No matter what they say back there, we still have a sworn duty. Or at least I do.” Her school friends were looking up at her like she held their allegiances in her callused palm. The Haven people were careful shadows, tired, certain. Tobe looked at her like he was never letting her out of his sight again. “I’m going to keep fighting.”

They took down their first Scanran raiding party the next day, finding them almost on accident. The first Haven dogs and cats skipped and sauntered into their makeshift camp the next night, curling up by the fire and dropping rabbits for the humans to clean for them.

Haven civilians and convicts began wandering in, grinning tightly, bringing stories of Giantkiller all up in arms. After the first week, once she’d figured out they might be there for good, Kel had started looking for clerks.

When Dom and most of his squad of the King’s Own walked into their camp without a single piece of official Crown livery on, Kel seized Dom by one rough, plain sleeve and dragged him to the side.

“You can’t be here,” she hissed. “Neal and Merric are as damned as I am. The refugees have nowhere safer to go, and I’m not going to keep them from a fight if they want it. But you– Raoul needs you, Dom.”

“Raoul needs us to win this war,” said Dom. “And neither of us could think of any better hands for my squad to be in than yours. If we’re going to win this, we can’t keep our best commanders in the dark.” He grinned. “Even if they’re grumpy giantesses of fugitives.”

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Cassandra has a blinding, powerful crush on Aveline and that’s just fact, the reason Cullen’s leading the Inquisition forces instead of Aveline is because the first time Cassandra tried to say a sentence to Aveline, she instead just laughed nervously and excused herself. The second time Aveline beat her in an arm wrestling match and told her to get the hell out of her office. The third time Aveline said she wasn’t interested in running some ragtag army, thank you, not while Kirkwall is still half rubble. The fourth time, Cassandra tried to arrest her. She panicked. It’s what she does when she panics. Aveline rolled her eyes and said after seven years of friendship with Hawke, she’s not scared of some Chantry brute on a crusade, and Cassandra tried to say something insulting back but just ended up stammering something about not needing to take this kind of lip from handsome women with bright red hair and big strong arms and a smile as wonderful as her loyalty to her friends, and at that point Cassandra just cut her losses and fled. 

Varric doesn’t know any of this because Aveline doesn’t gossip. The moment Varric learns, Cassandra has already decided she’ll need to leave the Inquisition or murder a dwarf. Fifty-fifty. 

This is gorgeous

Here they are, the nine Mighty Nein put together !