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"Nika Madeline's a pretty name," says Drou.
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"I think so too."

She gets up, still holding the baby, and gives Aral a kiss.
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"Well," he says, gazing down at Nika. "Welcome to the family, Nika Madeline. I'll go... hm. Yes. I'll go call Father."

He goes.
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Nika Madeline Vorkosigan proves to be... a baby. She learns to talk a little early and walk a little late. She walks and talks and plays and falls over.

One day she walks right up to her big brother.

"I can walk," she announces.
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Miles peers at her from the chair where he is currently propped in his excessively constraining back-brace.

"...Good for you," he says.
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"I could teach you," she offers. Probably he just hasn't learned how, goes her train of thought.

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"No you can't," he says. "I'm stuck." He gestures to the brace. "It's cause my bones break if I do things."

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"Oh." Nika contemplates this. "That'd be bad." Think, think. "I do for you?"

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...Miles looks thoughtful.

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"I don't break, I just go bump ow," she explains.

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"Oh. Why?"

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"Walking is pretty hard," she says solemnly.

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"Yeah?" he asks, interested.

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"I have to do both feet."

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Miles leans over as much as is possible, which isn't a whole lot, and peers at her feet.

"Is that hard?"
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"Yeah. But I can!"

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"'Grats."

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She walks in a little circle, trips, sits on the floor instead, and looks up at him.

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"Bump ow?" he inquires.

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"Yeah. I'll practice."

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"Practice helps?"

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"Droushie says," nods Nika. "She says practice falling too but I just fall anyway."

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"Why would you practice falling?"

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"To do it less ouchingly."

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"Oh. That'd be good," he says wisely.

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