Summary:

Firebird Trilogy - Firebird realizes something while conversing with her mother-in-law. Conservative rating.

Rating:

PG - I overrate, if anything.

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Over Kass

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"Kass?"

She accepted the bitter drink. She'd developed a tolerance to it. "Thank you."

Her starbred mother-in-law smiled at her. "Don't mention it, dear. I'm relieved Brennen's finally found his bond mate; and such a kind and lovely one, too."

Firebird smiled self-consciously.

"It's hard for Master Sentinels to find their connaturals, with their mental strength and all; and he's the strongest. How did treatment go?"

She shrugged. "All right, I guess. I can now… bear sons?" She laughed and shook her head. "I almost wish I could see the Electorate's faces when I do. My family doesn't have sons, and wastlings weren't allowed to have children."

"Good thing you're no longer one, then; else my Brennen would be a very lonely man."

The two women shared a laugh, her own restrained. Firebird remembered the time when she was proud of her heritage—when she struggled to fulfill it. What happened to pregnant wastlings suddenly popped up in her memory. "He fought hard to remove my wastling mentality. It still pops up, now and then."

Doubtless sensing her depression, Widow Caldwell leaned across the small table and squeezed her daughter-in law's hand. "You were raised that way, Firebird. It forged your personality into how it presents itself—your privately stubborn streak. Brennen likes you for it."

She gave the Thyrian woman a sidelong glance. "Did he tell you that or did you cheat?"

Her starbred mother-in-law smiled wryly. "Cheated, of course. My boys don't come to their mother with their feelings. They go to their wives… Or their sponsoring masters."

Firebird frowned. "Sponsoring…"

"Shamarr Dickin."

"Oh… You mean that special… Accountability and all that… Yes. I know what you're talking about, now. He's requested to be mine, too."

Widow Caldwell's eyebrow's raised, reminding Firebird of Sentinel Ellet Kinsmen when she'd asked a personal question. "That's irregular."

"Oh?"

"For someone to be the sponsoring master of a man and his wife… Normally they're different."

Firebird shrugged. "Well…" She sipped her kass. "It's…" She gagged, suddenly dizzy. She shot out a hand to support herself.

The starbred woman caught her. "Are you all right?"

She coughed. "Sorry," she said hoarsely. "I just had a dizzy spell or something… No, you don't have to—"

"It could be a side effect to your treatment." The older woman said sternly as she returned from contacting Firebird's healer, Master Spieth. "I'm not going to sit by and watch when that could mean something serious."

"At least don't alert Bren—" The familar smoky presence of her husband checked her mental state. She tried to project comfort and safety. He found her underlying confusion and frustration. She shot a sullen look at her mother-in-law. "Thanks. He's on his way."

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"Is she all right?"

Elderly Master Spieth's lips twitched at Brennen's anxious question. "She's fine," she dryly replied. "Nothing some months won't fix."

Firebird gasped. "You don't mean…"

Widow Caldwell laughed. "May the Singer be praised!"

Brennen wrapped his arms around her from behind and gave a little squeeze. "Congratulations, Mari," he whispered in Firebird's ear.

Gradually, Firebird was able to smile. She would be a mother.