AN: Don't own Twilight, its characters, plots, etc.
I sat on the lowest battlement of the castle with an apple in my lap, twisting the fragile core around and around until it snapped. The sun beat down on me, and I fervently wished that I had opted to wear a gown of lighter material than my current gaberdine gown.
It was mid-winter. It hadn't snowed in years, as far back as I can remember, anyway. The winter was always cold, of course, but it was always the ideal winter day: a white sky, sun shining, frozen dirt on the ground…
A sudden gust of wind blew across the grounds. The illusion of warmth abruptly vanished. I descended the steps to the courtyard, wary of falling down the frozen stone steps.
"Open the gates! Let down the drawbridge!"
Fevered shouts filled the air, drawing me from my reverie. I jumped up excitedly, running with the rest of the folk to greet the soldiers and returning king. A large crowd had formed around a group of riders.
As I drew closer, I could tell something was wrong. I elbowed past groups of people muttering, heads drawn together. The most important of the men rode to the castle, taking the injured with them.
I strained my neck, looking over the tops of heads…was he hurt? No, there he was! I ran forward, throwing my arms about his neck.
"Father!" His face broke into a smile, crinkling his eyes. He took off his helmet and stowed it under his arm.
"Isabella," I was pulled into a rough, one armed hug, "been taking care of your mother for me, eh?"
I nodded happily, so relieved to have him back. "Yes, Father."
"Good, good," he said absentmindedly, pulling me behind him through the crowd.
The cobbled streets were crowded, full of mothers and daughters searching for their male family members. We headed out the west gate and into the forest, past the occasional hovel. The snow crunched beneath my feet and my father's boots.
"You must tell me, Father, you must tell me everything!" I exclaimed. Our kingdom and the neighboring kingdom had been allied against the kingdom of Clallum. No one was really sure what the dispute was about, exactly, but that wasn't our concern.
We had reached our cottage. It was settled in a clearing in the middle of the forest. We could afford only one horse, and it was kept in the town in the military stables, so as to be safe. He stopped me.
"Isabella, you mustn't tell your mother, but we were all of us nearly killed. The soldiers we fought against…they didn't even seem human. They were enormous, they all had big, thick beards, and long dark hair. There was something almost…animalistic about them."
He leaned closer to me, conspiratorially.
"Some of the men," he whispered, "swear that they turned into big, hairy wolves."
I gasped. "Wolves?"
He chuckled halfheartedly, but his eyes remained dark. "I think they had too much wormwood, Bella. Don't listen to their tales."
But he remained tense, poised for action, wary, as he entered the cottage door, stooping down like always.
As I headed inside, I noticed that the forest was completely silent.
AN: I was really unsatisfied with the other version of this story, so I took it down and posted this one instead. It will be MUCH different. I personally like this one better…I hope you do too.