LINKDING

<blockquote>It was hard to believe that Kamet had once pitied the queen of Attolia, or seen in her a kindred spirit, someone whose choices were being whittled away one by one. She didn’t wait to be given choices. She wrested them from fate and the gods with her own two hands. And in doing so, she had--quite inadvertently, Kamet was sure--given him one as well.</blockquote> ➤ probably I would be helped if I could remember anything at all about Kamet's existence from the books, but oh well, good fic anyway

<blockquote>Flavian thought that the reason for the subterfuge was so that no one in the Wraith organization would know that Mordecai was meeting him, but the real reason was so that Flavian wouldn't know that the Wraith organization was perfectly well aware that Mordecai was meeting him. Mordecai sighed for a time when his life had been less complicated, but it had never been, really.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Life in Twelve isn't exactly what Millie expected.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Yegor Delacroix, growing up in the Imperial Service Orphanage, dreams of serving the Imperium like his father.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Dear Cordelia, I'm sure I don't need to tell you that Miles is a charming and intelligent young man; I've been enjoying his company immensely. He's made plenty of friends, and taken to the social opportunities at school with a great deal of verve. (For more details, please see the attached disciplinary reports from Principal Hatter.)</blockquote> ➤ a series of letters from Cordelia's mother to Cordelia

<blockquote>In which Julia and Janet discover romance novels--and Marianne discovers some consequences of freeing the Folk, the dangers of writing real person fic when you're an enchantress, and some things about herself that she hadn't known.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Death meets a poor woodcutter who's looking for a just man to be a godfather to his son. The new kid in Susan's class says he's going to be a great physician. The Death of Rats is just trying to do his job.</blockquote>

<blockquote>There once was a witch who lived in the Dendarii Mountains, and she had a son. This son of hers had been born with legs that curled into themselves, useless, but instead of cutting his throat as she ought to have done, the witch raised him as tenderly as if he had been a healthy child. . . . His legs remained curled and useless, but his arms grew strong, and his mind grew sharp, and his heart grew dark and wild.</blockquote> ➤ A traditional folk tale of Barrayar.