Hey there! So please don't kill me, I really didn't mean to be out of commision for so long. Obviously this is a new story, it' s based of the book Twilight, a book that I keep very near and dear to my heart. This particular story has been reverberating around in my head for a while now.
So if you've read the Twilight series, you will know that the timeline in this story is completely different from the one in the book, Carlisle, Edward, Jasper, and Alice's ages all correspond to the books, but Esme, Emmett, and Rosalie's are not, along with some other major timeline changes. Also, sorry to say, but this is not a Bella/Edward story, in fact, Bella isn't even in this.
I will try my hardest to get a chapter out every week. I haven't written anything in a while, between six AP courses, my mother's breast cancer last year and my aunt's this year, and college crap that needs to be done, it's been very difficult to breath let alone write.
Okay so onto the summary!
Summary: Edward has been away for quite a long time and when he returns, he has a whole new coven to meet. What unexpected sparks will fly in the Cullen family? And what happens when the Volturi decide to present a very real threat to Edward and all that he has come to love?
Pairing: This is a Jasper/Edward story. If you have problems against, I hope you will read this anyways, perhaps I can dissuade you from whatever preconcieved notions you have. Anyways, so yeah, I find this pairing to be very sweet and very compatible, I hope I can do it justice.
And finally.... Disclaimer: I, sadly, do not own and am not responsible for any of these chracters, only the sick, twisted universe I have deemed necessary.
So here you go!
Clair de Lune: Prologue
Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, be it ever so humble, there's no place like home. ~John Howard Payne The ivory keys beneath his long, elegant fingers were familiar to him, the melody he wrenched from the air was as natural as it was decades ago when they wandered the very same path. It was soothing to feel the indentions on the keys, testament to their use, and he almost felt as if he had never left.His eyes closed as he took in the sweet presence of the air, each note lending to the light excitement that he felt. Behind his closed eyelids there was a picture being painted, the sound caressing his mind's eye like a paint brush would caress a canvas. If his heart was still beating, it would be pounding along with the chorus of the piece he was playing. He imagines that if he still needed to draw breath, his respiration would be quickened, his eyes slightly dilated, and he would shake from the anticipation he was feeling.
The house had been empty when he had arrived, but he was certain that he was in the right place, scents still lingered here, and the smoke from recently blown out candles were still clinging to the fabrics. There were six distinct scents, only two that were familiar to him, which meant that Carlisle had expanded his family beyond what he had expected. The whispers in his mind told him that they were hunting, they would be back by nightfall, so he sat down and let his mind wander down the decrepit paths of his memories.
In his infant years he would never dream of leaving Carlisle, he had a deep bond with his creator that could never be severed. Besides, Carlisle's loneliness, an ache that was so profound that it led him to create another of what he deemed to be a monster, would never allow him to leave with a clear conscience even if he had wanted to. But with every year, the need to explore his boundaries, to know his limits, and to discover the secrets of the world, grew stronger. So when the time came, when Carlisle came home with that nearly dead woman in his arms, he knew that it was time to form his own way. He had been made at a young age and had lived under the guidance of his parents and then of Carlisle. His creator now had a companion to keep his loneliness away and it was time to survive on his own for a while, to experience individuality and come to par with who and what he was.
Their parting was accompanied by the blood curdling screams from the woman who was now changing, he had smiled and Carlisle had smiled back, goodbye had not been said. The knowledge that they would be reunited was apparent, and he had left with every intention of returning.
He had first traveled back to his human home, eager to let go of his human past. Chicago had changed since his new life had began, industrialization had taken root and he had found it easier than anticipated to free himself from his human memories. The hospital where he had spent what he thought were going to be his last moments of life still stood, emptier than it was during those dark, decaying days of disease. He took one thing with him from his past, a portrait of his mother in black and white, everything else he left to naturally corrode.
He traveled the world, saw places so vibrant that they seemed to come straight from a fairy tale. He had marveled at the natural wonders this world had to offer, glittering caves, behemoth waterfalls, and wide open plans filled his spirit with amazement.
And when his youthful curiosity about the world had diminished, he set himself on the path toward home. He had lost track of time it seemed, as America was infinitely different from what he had remembered. At first he was shocked to learn that the year was 2008, so many years he had been away.
He wasn't sure which house Carlisle would be inhabiting now, he simply went where his instincts had taken him. His feet had led him here, and it made sense. These forests had plenty of game, suitable for Carlisle's large family. The scenery here, at this time of year, was also the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He had fallen in love with it the very first time they had beheld it, in 1920 or so. The colors here seemed more vibrant, the smells sweeter, and the air lighter than any other place in the world. This was the place that felt most alive. It was pleasing to note that this had not changed.
The house itself was different, rooms that had once been empty were now occupied, a vast amount of technology was now present, and the overall design of the house was pleasantly modern. There were some things that remained the same. Paintings that he himself had picked out still hung on the walls, his room was just as he left it, and his piano sat in the same position it had when he had left some fifty odd years ago. It was a pleasant mixture of change and constancy.
He briefly wondered what Carlisle's family would be like. One scent belonged to that woman, the dying woman that Carlisle had discovered in a morgue and carried home to change. It was a soothing scent, like a breath of fresh air and lavender. There was one scent that spoke distinctly of roses, not overpowering or overwhelming, as if a light breeze carried it from somewhere distant, for it was light and airy. Another was much more rugged, like the smell of the forest, dirt and trees and life. One scent reminded him of the open fields of flowers in Holland, it was sweet, with a hint of cinnamon. The last scent was by far the most pleasing. It was like a southern farm boy, the scent of the earth and peaches and fresh brewed tea.
Three guys, three girls… a very well balanced family. He should have felt like he was intruding upon their life, yet all he felt was a sense of belonging. He was home, and he planned on staying for quite a while.
The music that filled the room soon reached a soft crescendo, falling into a dulcet rhythm. He opened his mind to invasion, what were once whispers were now clear, strong voices, as crisp as the fall air that surrounded him. They were within miles of the house, and then they stopped.
His lips formed a crooked smile as they bantered over who had left the lights on in the house until they realized that none of them had. The slow realization that there was someone in their house elicited a chuckle from the normally quiet boy sitting at the piano, and a smile of fondness made its way to his face when he read Carlisle's thoughts, his hope clearly visible. He was glad that he was missed so dearly.
He was almost finished with the song's quiet ending when a presence made itself known at the arched entryway of the room, followed by five others and a surprised gasp.
"Clair de Lune was always one your favorites Edward." Carlisle's voice held so much emotion that another crooked smile forced itself upon Edwards face.
He allowed the last note to linger before elegantly turning his body towards the entry.
"Some things never change." He said softly, looking at his creator, at his father.
He was finally home.
Hope you enjoyed! I'd love a review, it would make my day! :)