Title: Unexpected
Fandom: Diablotin
Rating: Mature
Length: 1160
Content notes: warning for reference to unwanted pregnancy and abortion
Summary: Sabren meets her boyfriend's mother for the first time.

Taz’s mother seemed to understand at once what she was feeling. The study she brought Sabren to was decorated in muted shades of grey and white, with only a few hints of colour - the blue sky visible through the window, books on the shelves that were bound in brown or dark green leather, a child’s drawing stuck to the side of the desk done in orange and yellow paints. “Sit,” she told her firmly in shadar-kai, and Sabren didn’t have the energy to resist her use of the dominant mode. Her natural sense of rebellion seemed to have evaporated. She sat.

Dozilva drew the chair from the desk over to sit beside her. “I’m sorry,” she said more gently. “I had hoped your introduction to the family would be... smoother than that. We’ll give them a little time to cool off, and meanwhile we can have a talk, just us women.”

Sabren nodded slowly. “I knew Taz and his father didn’t get along, but...”

“Even when he was a child, it was so,” Dozilva sighed. “They are both very stubborn, and... Tazenir can be irresponsible, which upsets Sanadhil, and he doesn’t tend to learn from his mistakes, which makes him angry. And, in all fairness, Sanadhil doesn’t always understand Taz, and he doesn’t like things he struggles to understand. Sometimes I think Tazenir is too much shadar-kai... too different from his father for them to see eye to eye. I had hoped that this time things might go better. Maybe they still can...” She sounded sad, though, and not overly optimistic.

“Can we still stay here?” Sabren asked uncertainly.

“Of course,” Dozilva hastened to assure her. “You’re under my roof, and I give you guest-right here, for as long as you wish to remain.” She spoke as if she were a melath, the head of her own clan - and Sabren supposed in a way she was. Dozilva gazed at her steadily, and Sabren stuck her chin out, returning her stare. “What clan gives you shelter?” the older woman asked at last, the question that had gone unanswered when Taz had first introduced them.

“None,” Sabren said calmly, and watched for her reaction. At first her brow furrowed in confusion, surprise, and then a look of even deeper sadness spread over her scar-decorated face. “I left them,” continued Sabren, answering the next inevitable question before it could be asked. The next question would probably be ‘why?’ but that she wasn’t quite ready to explain just yet.

Dozilva didn’t pry, but looked concerned. “It must be difficult, making your way alone like that. Were you very young?”

“In the last cycle before I would have left the olvir,” she said, forcing her voice to remain even and controlled.

“I left home at much the same age,” Dozilva told her. “But at least I knew I had a home to go back to, if need be. And I wasn’t alone...”

“I’m not alone either,” Sabren bristled. “There are plenty of people like me, I have friends, I have Taz... we look out for each other.”

“Yes... it seems you do. For now. While you hold his interest.” She didn’t say it unkindly, but it stung anyway.

“Or while he holds mine,” Sabren retorted. “We’ve been together for nearly a full turn now though. That’s a long time for either of us.”

Dozilva nodded. “Yes. And it is certainly true that for him to bring you here is... significant. Then again, for him to visit at all is significant. Tell me, is he still refusing to serve as a sire for our clan?”

“Yes.” Sabren hesitated for a moment. “That... may be partly my fault. But I don’t think he was enjoying it anymore either.”

“It’s all right,” Dozilva told her. “The last I spoke with them about it, they made it out as though it was their decision because they wanted to keep him more exclusive - giving him some time off so that blue eyes don’t become overexposed. As long as he’s not actively antagonizing them, it shouldn’t harm his standing for a while.”

She stood, walking over to one of the shelves that lined the walls of the room, and retrieved a bottle, filling a pair of glasses. Sabren wasn’t sure what it was, but presumed it must be some sort of alcohol - pale, almost clear. When Dozilva passed her a glass, she took a hesitant sniff - and almost retched. The smell wasn’t even terribly strong, but something about it turned her stomach. She didn’t want to be rude, but she didn’t think she could drink it. To be polite, she took a tiny sip, unable to hide her grimace (although the taste wasn’t as bad as the smell).

Dozilva watched her closely, sipping her own drink. “So,” she said eventually, when Sabren set her glass down on the table, “how far along?”

“What?”

“How far along are you? Smells make you feel sick, you’re pale, tired... even for someone who just travelled so far. I guess a cycle, not more than two?” Sabren’s surprise must have shown on her face, because Dozilva’s smile faded into concern. “Did you not know? Or did you think you were hiding it well enough that no one would figure it out?”

“I... I’m not. I can’t be.”

“Oh, I think you can - even if you were trying to avoid it, these things have a tendency to happen. Rather more often with Taz, it seems,” she added with a shrug. “Will you need help, with no clan to turn to when you go home?”

Sabren stood up, her legs shaky for a moment. “But... I didn’t... we didn’t want this.” But then they hadn’t tried very hard to avoid it either, she reflected, the dreadful realization sinking in.

Dozilva held out her hand sympathetically. “Oh, my dear. Think very hard before you decide you don’t want it - and be sure it’s your own decision, not his. But if that’s the choice you make, I can help you with that too.”

“I... I need to be alone. I need to think.” Sabren’s hand was already on the door, pushing it open, stumbling back out into the riot of colour that was the rest of the house. But there was no place to be alone here, she realized as the noises of other family members met her ears. Turning, she stepped back into the study, almost running into Dozilva. She burst into startled, angry tears, and didn’t resist when the older woman wrapped her immediately in her arms.

“There, there,” she murmured, rocking her gently as she might a hurt child. “It will be all right. Whatever happens, whatever you decide, you are strong enough to make it through this, and I’ll be here for you.” It had been so long since Sabren had believed anyone would protect her, support her unconditionally - but somehow she found with this woman, she did.