"Bloodbonded" Excerpt: Two Women and a Baby
Something about knowing a grandchild is on the way can really change a queen's opinion on her daughter-in-law...
Happy Tuesday, friends!
As I set up this post, I'm looking ahead a couple of weeks and hoping that by the time you read this, I'm knee-deep in content editing Soultainted. If you sense the distant smell of burning rubber, it's probably my brain attempting to untangle and reknit this beast into something suitable for public consumption.
In the meantime, I'm bringing you a slightly obscure scene from Bloodbonded in which Mairead and Maeve try to reach detente over the fact that they both love the same man. As both a daughter-in-law to the wonderful woman who raised The Man and a mother-in-law to a lovely woman who's a great mom to my grandsons, this scene is rather near and dear to my heart. I've had to adjust from both sides of this equation. It's tricky, and everyone makes mistakes in navigating these relationships, but I think if you can come to the same kind of conclusion these women come to, you've done things right.
Enjoy!
Mairead ate little that day and went to bed early. She awakened in the darkness to the gooseflesh of Sidh magic. “Connor,” she whispered as she sat up.
But the braids dissipated to reveal Maeve. She frowned. “Where is my son?”
Mairead stood. “He’s not here.”
“But I saw—” Maeve stopped. “Oh, gods. Oh gods.”
There were equal amounts of fear, joy, and anxiety in her voice. “What is it?” The magic pricked her skin again, and Mairead gasped as the braids wound around and through her. This time, though, Maeve did not bind her or restrict her movements. The magic teased and cajoled as it flowed in and out of Mairead’s body. The gentleness of it reminded her of the Sidh healing. “What are you doing?” she asked.
Maeve withdrew the magic and put her hands on her hips. “You are with child. My grandchild. My heir.”
Mairead’s hand flew to her belly. “I’m—what?”
“Pregnant. You carry Connor’s daughter. She has all three talents and the codagha.” She laughed a laugh of genuine relief. “I’ve been such a fool! It’s not the woman—it’s him! He’s the one who matters.”
Mairead frowned. “Perhaps it’s both.”
“I’m sorry, dear, but no. You have only the slightest hint of Sidh blood. You could never pass it on, not even in the smallest form. No, for your child to carry the codagha and the three talents, it must have been passed on by Connor.”
Mairead rubbed her belly. Pregnant. I’m pregnant. With his child. And now he’s gone. “You’re certain?”
“She is already strong. I sensed her from Taura. It was she who brought me here. I thought Connor wanted to see me, but I think it was your child. Her heart beats. Her mind is forming. Already she practices weaving the braids.” She tilted her head. “It’s very early. You’ve missed your monthly bleeding, yes?”
Mairead thought for a moment. She sat down on her cot. “I suppose I have. I didn’t even. . . .” She crossed her arms in front of her. “A child. How is this possible?”
“If you don’t know that, child, the kirok failed you.”
“I don’t mean that. I mean, we only had one night.”
“That’s all it takes.”
They were interrupted by a knock on the door. “Mairead?” Aerwyth called. “Is all well? I heard voices.”
Mairead cringed. “All is well,” she replied. “I was just talking to myself.”
“May I come in?”
Maeve startled. “No,” Mairead said. “No. I am fine. I’m just thinking aloud.”
There was a long pause. “Very well,” Aerwyth finally said.
Mairead motioned Maeve closer and dropped her voice. “They don’t know,” she whispered.
“A moment.” Maeve’s eyes took on a distant expression, and Mairead saw violet air braids twist around the two of them and drift up and out of the room. “We may speak now,” the Sidh queen said at last. “The braids will take our words away.”
Mairead let out a long breath. She rubbed her belly again. “I am with child.”
“Yes.”
“And you say this child is a girl? And your heir?”
“Yes. I only hope her power does not overwhelm you—that a human can carry such a powerful child.”
Mairead bristled. “You carried Connor.”
“And it nearly killed me.” She took a deep breath. “I do not intend to demean you, child, but we are different. We may be able to have children together, but that does not always mean it is a good idea.”
“And yet this bad idea has given you your heir, apparently.”
Maeve raised an eyebrow. “Your will has not dimmed, I see. If anything, it’s stronger than the first time I had to remind you of my power.”
Mairead sat up straighter. “You make many assumptions, your majesty. Why do you believe I will allow my daughter to become your heir? She may be called to other great things. Perhaps she’ll be my heir.”
“You can have another child. Have as many sons as you wish with Connor. You’ve taken him from his people—why not—”
“Because I can’t be sure he’ll be here for any of them,” Mairead snapped.
Maeve stopped short, and her mouth tightened into a grim line. “So. You see what I warned you of all those weeks ago.”
“You told me. You said he would ruin me and leave me.” She told Maeve about the events of their last encounter. “I can never tell if he’ll return,” she said. “And even if he does, I don’t know how many times I can take him back. I don’t know if there’s room for me in his life.” She sighed. “I can’t share him with the Morrag.”
Maeve sat next to Mairead. She laced her fingers in her lap. “I know what it is to share a man.”
“I thought Connor’s father was a widower.”
“He was, but I fell in love with him before his wife died. He was honorable, but my heart betrayed me. And then, after Culain’s wife died and I finally had his heart, I realized I could never really share his life. I always shared him with a woman I could never compete with—Taura.” She gave a rueful laugh. “In some ways, I would have preferred to only share him with his wife. Taura was a demanding mistress.”
“I think the Morrag is more demanding.” Mairead took a deep breath. “This child is also the new Taurin heir,” she said. “She might be the future Sidh queen, but she is also my only child, and therefore she’ll have to carry the Taurin line. And it is a noble line. It has Mac Niall blood, too.”
“Perhaps she won’t have to carry both,” Maeve said.
“What do you mean?”
“You may not wish to think of this now, but it may be that the only reason for your union with Connor was to produce this child. If he leaves or dies—if the Morrag intends to use him up and discard him—” Her voice caught on emotion, and she paused to compose herself. “He is one man. There are others. You are young. You may yet find another man—another Taurin man, or a tribesman from this place—to give you sons to carry your line.”
“And this is all I am? Some vessel with the right blood, destined just to carry children of the proper line?”
Maeve put a hand on her arm. “I do not think my son would have wed you if that’s all you were.”
“How can I feel so divided?” Mairead whispered. “How can I be so angry with him and so hurt by him and still love him?”
“Because your anger and hurt are fueled by your love,” Maeve said without hesitation. “If you did not love him so deeply, it would not hurt so much or cause so much anger.”
“Perhaps.” She took a deep breath. “Whatever you think of me, your majesty, I do love your son. I fear what he will become, but I love him. I will always love him.”
“I know.” Maeve reached for Mairead’s hand. “We are different women, you and I, but we share two things: my son and your child. Whether you wish it or no, the child has my blood, too. I will ensure that you and she are always cared for, even if no one else does.”
The words brought relief Mairead didn’t expect. No one else. It’s possible I’ll be shunned for this—that people will think I conceived out of wedlock. It’s possible a tribesman will use this to claim me as a wife. She took a deep breath. “He ensured I would be cared for. He made me his wife on paper and made me his sole heir. But I fear. . . .”
“I know.” Maeve squeezed Mairead’s hand. “He deserves to know that he is a father. He deserves to hear the news from you.”
Tears spilled over, but Mairead kept them from her voice. She nodded. “I will ride out to find him as soon as it’s safe. Your majesty,” she started.
“Maeve.” It came out of the queen’s mouth with a certain tightness.
“Your majesty?”
The queen offered a tight smile. “Call me Maeve. Or ‘Mother,’ if you prefer.”
Mairead tried to picture herself addressing the tiny queen as “Mother.” “Maeve,” she said. “That will—”
“—Take some adjustment, yes.”
Mairead smiled. “Thank you, Maeve,” she said.
Maeve patted their clasped hands. “You are welcome, Mairead.”
I think most productive relationships have to begin with finding common ground. Maeve and Mairead didn't choose to be connected to each other, but they both love Connor, and they both understand that any children who come from Connor and Mairead's union will be Maeve's grandchildren.
Babies have a way of tying women together--even our adult babies. For Maeve, she'll always see an echo of the baby Connor was when she looks at the man he's become, and that echo will reverberate through the faces of his children, even when it's muted and enhanced with Mairead's features.
Also, even though she has her issues with Mairead, Maeve would really like to have grandchildren.
Those of you who have read Bloodbonded already know the end of this part of the story, and I suspect many others can figure it out based on what I've written on my blog. But you also all know that I love a happy ending--or at least a poignant ending--so there are good things to come for Mairead, Maeve, and Connor.
All right, that's it for this week. Next week, a little excerpt from Unquickened.