and she will bear fruit

late october, 1043

She'd been praying for it -begging God to hear her. She'd been careful, and obedient to her husband, and had Annette procure herbs for her benefit, all to achieve it -to prove, in the face of a younger woman full of Anrai's child, that she was still relevant as his wife and the true mother of his legitimate children.

And now, her work had paid off.

The physician had confirmed her suspicions. The Countess was pregnant. After nearly two years of an empty womb, seemingly no longer able to bear fruit after suffering so much with the early birth and tragic death of precious Edana, her body had responded to what surely had only been the hand of God himself and taken that which she'd been so enjoying receiving from her husband for a purpose. Oh, she was elated! A less experienced Sansa Seraphin might have danced around the room for joy -she knew, however, that in her age and as many children as she'd born, there was no use in that. Instead, she sat calmly at her dressing table, hands fiddling with some bauble that Anrai had gotten her in years past, as Annette elegantly braided and knotted her long blonde curls, still as vibrant as ever. Her mind swam. Would her newest son favor her, with fair hair and eyes? No! She wanted him to favor his father -like Caolan before him, she wanted him to be the spitting image of a Seraphin. Anrai would be so pleased with her. The next months she would receive even more baubles and attention than she'd ever had the joy of accepting -she was certain of it. The shift of trust, however begrudging it had been, had been good for their relationship. Her quiet acceptance of the mistress in her own house had only helped, she assumed, although it pained her in many ways -but the woman wisely kept her distance and as she was respectful to Sansa, seemingly, as the wife of her lover, she found it easier to accept her presence.

Annette interrupted her thoughts casually as her fingers drew through her lady's hair with a special familiarity. "What dress shall you where, then, to tell the Earl?"

Sansa considered for a moment, eyes fluttering as she mentally flitted like a silly girl who was about to attend her first courtly event through her wardrobe -but this was important. She wanted her husband to be disappointed that their weekly rounds in the study had to cease, but thrilled to have a son on his way -a legitimate son from the womb of his wife and not his mistress. She craved his hungry eyes and approval just as much as anything, these days. It was the drug that kept her alive in an otherwise tense nation and a household that teetered on the edge of greatness and destruction. They all knew what was at stake.

"His favorite. The turqoise one with the deep bodice and bronze trim..." She sounded airy -unfocused. Recognizing her voice, she sat up a bit straighter, feeling childish again. "I'm sorry, Nettie. I lack focus this morn. I just...I need this to be perfect. This pregnancy needs to be exemplary. And I need this child to be a boy. So many needs to pray for, and I an only hope I've pleased our Lord enough to earn them."

"You are a good woman, Sansa, and an excellent wife. And as your Lord has been uncharacteristically attentive to you as of late, I suspect your announcement will please him greatly."

She sounded more certain than usual. Sansa smiled mildly. "I feel like a silly child, tittering about. But I had thought, after Edana...nevermind. I shouldn't dwell."

Annette nodded in agreement and went to retrieve the gown, helping her mistress dress until she was pleased. Anrai, according to Annette's sources, was still in his room after a long night in his study. Sansa assumed that he was awake, at least, although perhaps not out of bed. Her mouth twitched pleasantly at the thought of his nude form stretched out upon his sheets but she quickly corrected her thoughts -this wasn't about making love. It was about her news.

She traveled lightly down the hall to Anrai's private wing and entered it with her usual grace and a quiet smile, knocking gently in her typical fashion against his door. His servant opened it -not that she hadn't expected this. Perhaps he was helping his master dress for the day. Sansa moved from the anteroom to his chambers and put her hand on the door frame to steady her excited nerves, peering into the room. She spied him wearing on his breeches, stretching, and resisted her urge to move closer to him. Instead, she lingered in his door in what she hoped was an irresistible fashion, his favorite dress fitting her beautifully, her eyes bright with joyous news. "Husband...forgive my early intrusion, but I have news that simply could not wait."

Winter was nearing yet again and as usual when the cold whether struck it took Anrai an extra lengthy period of time to urge himself from beneath his heavy, warm blankets. Immediately he sent the first servant who entered off to fetch firewood for the fireplace. The next two in the room began buzzing around, one with a flagon of water and the other preparing his attire for the day. As they went about their business for the next few moments Anrai had to fight the urge to crawl back under his blankets and go to sleep. Surely this would not be a day where he would be terribly missed if he decided to sleep for a few more hours.

Everything, for the moment, was at a stand still anyway. Nothing could be done until the man he had sought out had put an end to the Popes life. And he wasn't entirely certain that Sibeal was ready for the magnitude of what was going to happen. Anrai had tried, in previous convers-ations, to hint at what might come in the future. She wanted to fight, and he had allowed her to be trained at least in some areas of combat, but what she truly needed to do was stay out of harms way.

No, he would not yet allow himself to get pulled into fretting over one thing or the other. The day was young yet and there would be time for such things later. With one hand he instructed the servant preparing his food to let it be, dismissing him casually. The other, who had been piecing together his options for dress that day on two mannequins, was allowed to stay. In fact Anrai even stood and spoke to him. "Boy. Tell me, have you heard anything concerning Lady Blount and her condition?" As soon as the question was asked the servant boy seemed to become nervous, fidgeting with the buttons on the doublet of the second outfit. "Y.. yes m'lord. It is said she is in good health and spirits and is enjoying her time spent here." Anrai nodded, well aware that the worst kept secret within the borders of his lands was that Caitriona was pregnant with his child. He was certain even Sansa knew that the child was his own. But, of course, he was not about to send a woman away who was pregnant with his son. Not unless there was good reason to do so. And she had proven herself to be a strong and useful tool.

When the boy stepped aside Anrai moved to admire the two outfits, tracing his fingers over the fabric of the burgundy doublet that his serving boy had been fidgeting with only seconds before. "This one will do." Anrai tapped the doublet gently with his fingertips and an instant later the boy was moving back in his direction. He was halted a half moment later by Anrai's hand, which had flashed upward in ordering him to halt. "I am capable of dressing myself. Go and find that other twit and help him retrieve firewood for this room and my study. Damned winter is setting in already." While the boy nodded, turned and headed for the door Anrai slipped out of his nightgown and began dressing himself. He slipped on the white undershirt and then moved for his breeches when his wife's voice cut through the silence.

For a moment he froze, her words penetrating his mind before slipping his breeches on the rest of the way. Finally his eyes drifted towards her, a pleasant smile lighting his face as he noticed the turquoise gown that was his favorite of hers adorning her slender figure. "Then by all means, wife, come and sit with me. Have you eaten yet?" He waved his hand in the general direction of the silver trays that had been left behind, indicating that she was welcome to take from them if she so desired. "I spoke with our daughters Governess yesterday. She says she has never seen a child so intelligent at such an early age. I have half a mind to begin her education here and now." The smile that had fallen to his lips moments earlier spread wider when he spoke of Sorcha. She was unquestionably his most beloved child, at least since Caolan had died, but he chose not to think of his poor boy any more.

Finally, Anrai moved and poured water from the pitcher into a goblet of his own. "Now, tell me. What is this news you have? Has my brother decided to relent in his stance and recognize Sibeal as the rightful Queen?"

She could barely contain herself. Anrai, it seemed, for the first time in their marriage, was almost happy. The way he moved about freely with the weight of the world seemingly light on his shoulders brought a joy to her heart she had never expected. Was this...was this affection, growing there, now that he'd let her into his mind more completely? Sansa couldn't say. The love she had for Rhys had faded only slightly since their disagreement years ago, but it was tucked and locked away in the recesses of her soul so that even she could barely touch it now. Apparently, something new was finally taking its place. She was so frightened of it -it made her vulnerable to the man standing near her. But what if...what if he, too, felt something new stirring in his carefully guarded heart? What if she were to matter again? And undoubtedly, she was cautious to hope, her news would give him an even greater reason to take stock in his wife. The smile he offered her wasn't one with hidden meaning, or sarcasm, or even irritation that she'd visited so early -instead, it was pleasant and friendly, something that caused her stomach to twist with longing. She wanted him to look at her like this always. Sansa drew gracefully forward, realizing that the turn in her stomach was hunger as much as happy anxiety. She'd been far too excited to each breakfast.

There would be no more sickly children, no more dead children. This new child was a blessing from God himself for their family -he would be strong, healthy, and most of all, he would be Seraphin, a fact that, though it pained her to silent admit, was one that could be argued over Kona. She knew Anrai viewed him as his son -he was still the heir, after all -but to give her husband this sort of gift when they'd so dreadfully lost Talan and Caolan...

Sansa plucked a few grapes in her slender fingers and found herself winding her arm comfortably around her husbands waist to plant a morning kiss on his cheek. She let her body rest comfortably against his for a moment, thinking about the day when she would stand with their son kicking against him in her womb, before pulling away only slightly to eat the fruit, listening to him with a proud smile. To hear him talk of their precious girl so made her incredibly happy. Anrai, it seemed, excelled at loving Sorcha despite his struggle to love Kona or Rhoswen. Knowing his childhood and the lack of love he'd suffered, Sansa had been duly impressed and hopeful when he started showing the signs early. Perhaps he would one day learn to love their older children, too -for now, however, her love would have to be enough. Still, to know her daughter, who doubly adored her father, had her affection returned was comforting and pleasing. She finished chewing and offered him an affectionate smile, unable to help herself. Today was a good day -she'd even ignored mention of Caitriona, the governess, without much thought to the matter. Anrai's mistress, for that was what she was, hadn't seemed qualified at first -but the petulant Sorcha liked her and she was caring well for the child. Sansa approved as long as her daughter and husband were happy. It was the safest and most obvious option in her position.

"She is a clever girl, like her father." The lady eyed her husband sideways with her compliment and smile before picking up his hand and pressing her lips to his fingers.

"That would, indeed, be excellent news...but I think mine is better." She prayed silently that he would take it well -that he wouldn't be afraid of losing another child, that he would see the joy she felt, and pressed his hand against her bodice, over her stomach, her second covering it instinctively as she bit back a wide smile. "Anrai...you're to have another child." Sansa waited, her breath catching quietly, for his response.

Please, she silently pleaded, please be happy...

Better news? He looked at her questioningly before losing himself in his own thoughts. What possibly could have been better than Aidan essentially giving him everything that he was certain he would need the men of the North and their warriors for? A peaceful end, especially as swift as it would have been had his guess been accurate, would have endeared him to Sibeal even more and likely granted him even greater power over her. Alas, it was not to be. The game would have to play itself out at its normal pace although Anrai was confident he had played his hand, up to that point, far better than his brother had. Their recently deceased sibling, Aldrin, had worked for so long to ensure his own bloodline would continue and would be stable. Yet he had left Aidan with little so very little to work with. Victory seemed almost certain though he was not yet ready to gloat. Instead he knew that it was likely he would have to murder, or, at the very least, see to the murders of his brother, his niece and his nephew.

"... you're to have another child."

Suddenly and swiftly his head snapped back in her direction, his gaze locking onto hers. Another child? Was she referring to Caitriona? As he had recognized many times in the past it was no secret that Cait was with child and that the child was his. No, that was not what this was about. Her eyes were dancing with joy, a fact that would not have been true if she were confronting him about his mistress. She was speaking of herself. It was true that their relationship had entered one of its smooth periods where they were able to enjoy the company of each other. Such times had come in the past and eventually they had gone and things had returned to their usual state. Most often the end to those good times had come at the loss of another child. Caolan, Talan, Edana and Maeve. He had lost all of them at one point or another and it ate at him. Especially the loss of his precious Caolan. He had loved that boy to greater depths than he had ever, or likely would ever, love anyone.

Perhaps this was a miracle. Or perhaps the miracle would come if the child remained within her for the full term. After all, Sansa was no young woman any longer and though she still kept some of the beauty from her youth the years were beginning to wear on her the same as they wore on him. And hadn't the physician said that she would never be able to even carry a child again? "Are you certain? Has the physician confirmed your suspicion?" Anrai was well aware that she wanted for him to be happy about her revelation and somewhere deep within he was. Yet life and the great number of disappointments he had suffered had trained him to be careful about such things. There was no need to let ones emotions take hold unless there was an absolute sense of certainty to a situation.

He watched her cautiously as his hand rested upon her abdomen. After a few more long moments the Prince finally broke down and offered her the smile she surely had been hoping for. Had they not been on such pleasant terms he might have sent her from the room and brooded upon whether there was truth to her statement or not. Instead he decided to ask no further questions of her. "If you speak truly then your news is most assuredly better than I had guessed." If she spoke true then there was a chance he could once more have a legitimate son. Or, at least, a son whose legitimacy could not be questioned. "We could have a son.." His eyes lit up as he spoke of the possibility before adding two more words. "...another son."