Blood from Stone [AU]

[Marian Hawke]

"I love the metallic witchlights," she agrees, looking up at the lights above the ballroom floor. "They're so... Her. Always concerned with light and darkness. And those violet ones, do you see? Just the color of her eyes. And the silver ribbons, there, on the chandelier... she can't help but shape whatever she touches to match herself."

Liz sighs, wistfully. "I wish... I wish sometimes I could do the same. But I don't have a shape. I just fit whoever I'm with. I'm not like you, Beth. I don't know how you turned out so great after the childhood we had, but I envy you."

[Bethany]

Beth swallows, reaching over to take her sister's hand in her own. "Hey... if I've done well, it's because of you. Because of the childhood you worked to give me. And... and you're finding a shape now. You've already found a few edges."

[Marian Hawke]

"Maybe," she admits, not wanting to dwell. "Speaking of edges, how are you holding up? The babe getting restless yet?"

[Bethany]

"...how is that speaking of edges?" Beth asks blankly.

[Marian Hawke]

"Uh," she says, and blushes. "Yours are, ah, increasing."

[Bethany]

"My- oh." Beth blushes a little too, then smirks. "More sensitive too. Which is... fun. Randier to go along with it, thankfully. Thank gods Isabela is still in town. Don..." She leans in closer. "He tries, he really does, but... catfolk. It's really hard for him to be in the mood when he's not in heat." So it's been Don, with side helpings of Isabela, Dominique and the best gift I ever got. Whoever thought up enchanting ball bearings to jiggle like that is a saint. 

[Marian Hawke]

Now Liz sighs again, with content and a little longing. "Isabela is a wonder," she says, in a breathy, adoring tone. 

[Bethany]

Beth snickers a little, leaning her head against Liz. "...I'm doing well. It... I showing. It... it feels more real now that I can... I'm going to be a mother. Less than half a year. I can't even.... I don't have the words."

[Marian Hawke]

"I know," says Liz, in that same soft, wondrous tone. "I'm so excited. Have you thought about baby parties yet?"

[Bethany]

"Baby... oh. No, I didn't even... The Tribe doesn't do baby parties and I just... did you... do you think I should? Just for family?" Beth bites her lip, thinking.

[Marian Hawke]

Liz grabs her hands, turning to meet her eyes with a strange, nearly manic intensity in her own. "Let me plan you a baby party," she insists, grinning. "Please, it'll be great!"

[Bethany]

"Um. I- okay?" Beth blinks a few times. "You... uh, you have some ideas... a couple of suggests, I gather?"

[Marian Hawke]

"Beth, I won't ever have my own, but that doesn't mean I've stopped daydreaming about the perfect wedding and the perfect baby party and the perfect baby names -- Nathaniel and Rowan -- and the perfect nursery and everything. I'm infertile, not dead. If you don't already have plans, I'd love to lend you mine and make them happen."

[Bethany]

"...our plans then," Beth says softy, eyes a little damp. "You'll be a wonderful Auntie, I know you well. And... you do remember-"

[Marian Hawke]

"You keep saying," she says, waving a hand. "But nothing's a given." And some of the scars I tried to have removed came right back. At least the tattoos stayed gone and the finger returned, thank Ciren.