An Ending

It was an effort to sit, even after having had the desk chair changed for a softer, more cushioned version. And then having more cushioning, more pillows added to the second, more comfortable chair. And yet, Brialla did not regret, for one moment, that night in the priestess’ office, seven months ago. Everyone, including her, was getting more used to the idea of another child, a sibling, and based on the weight and size of her pregnant belly, she would produce yet another proud, healthy kaldorei, who might take after her in many small ways, but after Kerendra, most of all.

Carefully smoothing down the loosely fitting dress, almost robe, she had taken to wearing as she went further and further into the final third of pregnancy, Brialla sighed. Shifted. Tried to soothe the active child within, and then picked up and ate another raspberry. Never a great fan of them, she felt certain that her and Kerendra’s second would eat the whole town’s supply, so much had she craved them, and so much did she continue to crave them. She had another, and then picked up the letter from Quel’thalas, from her parents, to reread it.

For complicated and arcane reasons, it had become apparent that several deals had fallen through, and so the family business had been in dire financial straits, and might have wholly collapsed were it not for the steady supply of kaldorei goods, relatively exotic in Silvermoon City, she had secured. The letter was a far cry from the dubious and sometimes poorly-disguised worry and disdain she had received when first deciding to make her home on kalimdor, with Kerendra. Now, for the first time, her parents planned to come and visit. To reconnect with their daughter, to meet the mate, and to see the child. The two grandchildren, soon enough.

She did not wish any ill upon her mother and father – they had their faults, of course, as anyone did. But, in the end, they had set aside their prejudices and come around. More than many could hope for, even among the kaldorei. Where those who had lived through the long vigil still struggled with everything that had changed. With the continued change, year by year. With the tenuous but seemingly lasting armistice.

The door to her office opened. Not in a controlled fashion, filled with reverence. Not with respectful, professional haste, as she might have expected from her staff. Instead, it was with still growing, but small strength, and slightly uncertain balance. Kerendra entered, a lenient, somewhat indulgent smile on her lips, flashing an apologetic look to Brialla as she haltingly paced after the small figure dragging her. A growing child’s fingers wrapped around two of Kerendra’s, heading straight for Brialla.

“I have to come feel mommy’s tummy moving,” Kerendra said, a wry smile on her lips.

“I’m going to be black and blue,” Brialla said. She reached for Elennia’s hand, and then for Kerendra’s, guiding them both to her, where they waited for a few seconds with bated breath. Until, as if understanding that it was their turn, the child within Brialla seemed to turn, and shoulder her stomach, setting off amazed babbling from Elennia, and a quiet, longing meeting of eyes between Brialla and Kerendra.

Brialla exhaled, finding a single moment’s ease in pregnancy’s endless discomfort. Kerendra’s hand remained on her stomach, and she placed her own, smaller, upon it. “I’ll be home soon,” she said. “Promise.”

“We’ll be waiting,” Kerendra said. After which, she allowed herself to be tugged back out of the office.

Brialla sat, listening to the sounds of the two disappearing. To the quiet crashing of the waves, in the background. She cast her eyes on the letter, again, minute shence, and then decided against doing anything else that late night, in favor of returning home to be with her family.