Title: Prince Aral.
Author: lannamichaels
Fandom: Vorkosigan Saga
Series: Part 11 of Liegelord
Rating: G
A/N: Cast list and timeline.
Archives: Archive Of Our Own, SquidgeWorld

Summary: Aral was always ambitious, but he wasn't going to do anything about it.



Aral was always ambitious, but he wasn't going to do anything about it. He feels uncomfortably like Uncle Ivan has just read his mind and decided to gift him with everything he's ever wanted. But the price on it is that it sets him apart from his family. It sets him apart from his friends. And it might mean terrible consequences in the future.

Aral grabs Castor as soon as he can. They'd been close growing up, nearly twins in age, but they'd drifted apart once they'd started school. They'd had different interests. Now they share the same interest: making sure Uncle Ivan didn't just make a huge mistake.

Once Uncle Ivan releases them from the Residence, Aral takes Castor back to his apartment. Castor goes right to the piano. Aral goes to make tea for them both and hears Castor do a few warm ups and then start into one of his own compositions. It sounds frustrated.

Aral brings tea over for himself and Castor. He comes next to Castor, takes him by the hair, tilts his head back, and kisses him firm on the mouth.

Castor looks at him annoyed. "I wasn't done," he says.

"Fine, fine," Aral says. He settles down on the couch with his tea and watches Castor try to process his feelings.

Castor works his way through the rest of the piece before setting back on the bench. He lifts one leg over the bench and turns to look at Aral. "You want to be Emperor, right?" Castor asks him.

Aral nods.

"All right," Castor says. He stretches out his fingers. Aral's prepared for another concert, but Castor just closes the piano and pats it fondly.

"Do we need to hash it out?" Aral asks.

Castor shrugs. "What would that do? It won't change it. I just wish I knew what I did that made Uncle Ivan skip me. I wish he'd just told me why. But I guess I can't ask the Emperor to justify his decisions. So we just have to live with it. It doesn't offend me that it's you. It'd offend me if it was David. He shouldn't skip a Vor to go with a Komarran. But you're Vor."

If Uncle Alexander heard Castor refer to David as not being Vor... "We're going to need to show a united front," Aral says.

"I know that," Castor says, offended. "Everyone was staring at me tonight. They're not going to stop doing that. My father told me my loyalty has to be visible from now on. But I've been doing that. I don't know what more he wants from me." He sounds as frustrated as his music had.

"I don't mean a united front with the rest of the family," Aral says, moving to sit next to Castor on the piano bench. "I mean the two of us. I have to be your man the same way you have to be mine." If Aral doesn't get behind Castor and hold him up, Castor's going to end up the casualty of some kind of political maneuvering, probably before the end of the month, the way things have been going. Uncle Ivan just made Castor no longer necessary. And bad things can happen to Vorbarras who aren't necessary anymore. "Look, we're never going to be your father and Uncle Ivan. Neither of us want that. But we can't start looking like Uncle Ivan just dumped a surprise on us. We have to look like we expected this."

"Nobody expected this," Castor says, but he leans against Aral's arm.

"Yeah, but we can't tell them that," Aral says. "We have to pretend like this was the plan all along. So if you're angry with me, if you want to yell at me, you have to do that now." Or later, really, but only in private. And as of tomorrow, Aral's going to be the Crown Prince. ImpSec may not have been alerted yet to start caring about if any of Aral's cousins are threatening him. So if Castor wants to do that, he should do that now. Aral doesn't want Castor to get into any trouble.

"I'm not mad at you," Castor says. "I'm mad at Uncle Ivan because I wanted to spend the next two weeks mourning Grandfather and not having to act like I don't care about what Uncle Ivan just did. But you didn't do anything. I'm not going to set myself up a some kind of rival to you. If we were in a competition, you've already won. I just didn't know we were competing for anything."

Well, that's one way to look at it. But if that's how Castor's going to look at it, Aral won't complain.

Castor grabs for his mug and makes a face that it's gone cold. Well, that's what he gets for playing piano. Castor puts it down. "Let's just go to bed," he says.

That works fine for Aral. It's been a while since they've done this, but it's still easy between them. They've never understood each other that well, but they move together well. It makes sense to do it now, with Uncle Ivan destroying the equilibrium between them. They have to get it back. It's a comfort that Aral isn't going to decline.

Afterwards, Castor gathers the blankets around him and starts shaking slightly.

"What is it?" Aral asks. He feels just fine. But he was just given the Imperium as an inheritance. He can have no complaints about tonight other than that Uncle Ivan didn't warn him. But Castor just had his entire life changed in an instant. Aral should have some sympathy. It'll be good practice, he thinks. He's going to have to start managing the family now, when before, he was just Prince Nicholas's oldest boy. Now he's the Crown Prince. That comes with responsibilities.

Castor mumbles something into the pillow, then turns with clear reluctance. "I can stop having to be good enough, right?"

If Castor's career has been him trying to be good enough, he hasn't been trying hard enough. But at least that much, Aral understands. He wasn't outright auditioning for the role of Crown Prince. But Castor had been. "You still have to be a Vorbarra prince," Aral says cautiously.

Castor snorts. "Yeah, I know about that. Having to wait until I'm forty to do anything I want to do. I know how not to shame the family. But all of that, that was with the idea that Father was going to end up the Emperor some day. If that's not going to happen, why am I bothering?"

Aral doesn't know how to handle that. He runs his fingers gently through Castor's hair. "You do still have to be a good son," he tries.

"Yes, but not good enough," Castor says, which seems to mean something to him. Aral really has never understood Castor. "I have to show everyone I'm loyal to you and to Uncle Ivan. I don't have to show everyone that I can handle being the Emperor. Since I'm not. I've been permanently denied that promotion. So why do I have to keep maintaining appearances?"

"What would you do if you weren't maintaining appearances?" Aral asks, worried about what Castor might suggest. Resigning his commission? Uncle Ivan would never let him, would he? Castor's not exactly a gifted soldier, but they're on modern Barrayar; he doesn't need to be. But Uncle Ivan's not that loose with his standards. He wouldn't let Castor out after less than ten years instead of the full twenty. Would he?

Castor raises his head and glares half-heartedly at Aral. "I'd stop trying to become my father."

Aral's never understood why anyone would pick Uncle Richard as a model to follow, but then again, Ara's not his son. Aral shrugs. "Might want to wait until after the funeral."

"You're right," Castor says. He collapses down onto the bed and gives a short laugh. "Wow. I just realized. Aral, welcome to my life. I hope you have a better time of it than I did. Good luck with that mess."

Aral feels a little frisson of alarm go through him. "What's so different about your life than mine?"

Castor chuckles. "Really? Everyone thinks you're a Vorkosigan. They're not going to think that now. Now you're the Vorbarra heir."

It can't be that much worse, Aral thinks. Castor sounds certain, but of course Castor thought his life was harder than everyone's. "Well, welcome to mine," Aral says, a little miffed. "Not being the heir. Having everyone dare you to try to become the heir."

"That actually might be nice," Castor says, sounding like he has just realized something wonderful.

"It's not," Aral says.

"Yes, but if I'm a failure, that's expected," Castor says. "I spent my life trying to show that I was worthy of it, when everyone knew I wasn't, but now I don't have to anymore. It's going to be a relief once I stop being mad at Uncle Ivan about it. He could have told me any time that I simply wasn't good enough and he was picking you instead. But instead of doing that, he had me prancing like a pony trying to show that I'm a stallion. But I won't have to do it anymore. I'm glad about that part. But he didn't have to make it a surprise. He didn't have to do it in front of everyone. He didn't have to humiliate me. But that's the end of it, I guess. Now it's official that I'm not good enough, so no one can think I am."

"No, everyone's going to think you're mad at Uncle Ivan and want to use you for that," Aral says.

Castor waves his hand around. "Yeah, but they won't really think I'm good enough. They'll just be lying to me and I'll know they are. But you. You're good enough. So if people try to tell you that you are, you won't know if they're lying."

Aral considers that, trying to work through Castor's logic. "I don't really expect much to change." Not in that way, at least. He expected he might inherit some of Uncle Alexander's support at Headquarters, but even that's not happened yet. Until now, Aral's been just one of the Emperor's many grandsons, but the Emperor still had two sons in the military. There's never been anything wrong with Aral's father or with Uncle Alexander.

Well, except for what Uncle Ivan told them tonight, once, Aral supposes, he wasn't bound anymore by an oath made to Grandfather. That's probably everywhere by now. Aral wonders what Uncle Alexander is going to do, now that everyone knows he nearly committed fratricide and got away with it.

"Wow," Castor says belatedly. "Why was I even born?" He comes up onto an elbow and stares at Aral. "We're only about five months apart. If my parents had just waited, they could have not even bothered in the first place. They only had me for this, and now it's you anyway."

Aral doesn't like the sound of that. "I'm sure they wanted--"

Castor snorts. "No, they really didn't. They're not like the Vorkosigans. It's your dad who wants to repopulate the planet, not mine."

Aral's never been very impressed by Uncle Richard, but the delay with having Castor was... wasn't it medical? Aral was never going to hear the details, but he thought it was medical. Why else would there be such a gap between Izzy and Castor? Aral is sure that Uncle Richard and Aunt Marina would have repopulated the Vorbarras if they'd been able to. It's only the honorable thing to do.

Aral considers that now. He doesn't know what tomorrow is going to look like, once all his cousins have had a night to think it over. He didn't miss that Uncle Ivan had given some orders to the armsmen and the guards. Aral doesn't know where Uncle Alexander is sleeping tonight, but Aral bets it's nowhere where he can get a message out to his fleet. And Aral hadn't been ushered to his apartment, but everyone saw him leave with Castor. Aral didn't see where his own father went.

Maybe Uncle Richard had had the right of it, after all. Maybe they shouldn't have repopulated the Vorbarras so well. It might not just be Castor who ends up dead from the churning in the political arena.

This... could be a problem.

But who can they go to for help? Uncle Ivan was the one who did this, Uncle Richard agreed to give up Castor's place in line, Uncle Alexander lacks honor, and Aral's father is probably just happy that Aral got picked. Aral doesn't think his father was ever maneuvering for anything on the Vorbarra side, at least. They've always been closer to Aral's mother's side of the family.

But that's the Vorkosigans. Was Aral's father making a political alliance for himself? Did Uncle Ivan picking Aral mean that Aral's father had to stop some plans to overthrow Castor? Aral's never delved too far under the surface; he's known his place as a superfluous Vorbarra prince.

Now his place is as the Vorbarra Crown Prince and that's different. Castor's probably right: Aral doesn't know what's going to happen.

They're going to need perspective. They're going to need help.

Aral nudges Castor, who'd been starting to nod off. "Do you think Izzy would come back?"

Castor considers. "She's already on her way back to make oath. But after that? I don't know. What are you going to offer her if she does?" His face says it all. It better not be marriage.

Aral shrugs. "Would she stay if all I promised was to listen to her?"

Castor shrugs. "She might. It's Izzy."

It's Izzy but Izzy hates Barrayar so much, she ran screaming and hasn't come back yet.

"I'm sure you'll find something," Castor says. He yawns. "Or your mother will. Or someone."

Castor yawns again and falls asleep with all the relief of someone who has passed on the heaviest burden of his life.

Aral, who has taken the burden on his shoulders, finds himself awake much, much longer.



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