Emperor Hadrian couldn't help but notice the rain falling outside as he walked down the hallway of the Olympia Palace in Forks, Washington. This was one of his many palaces in the world that had become a part of his empire. This one, however, was special for one reason, and one reason only.
Empress Renesmee waited for him at the door, beautiful as she'd always been. Her chocolate brown eyes looked to Hadrian with an intelligence and wisdom that did not match her age as it appeared to be. Most would say that the Emperor did not adore anything besides his own power, but they were wrong. He adored his wife, with her reddish bronze curls flowing around her like a waterfall, wearing gowns of black or white. Despite having delicate features, like a child, she had the mature mind and heart of the perfect empress.
"Good day, husband," she declared, the words flowing off her tongue with a cadence that reminded Hadrian of poetry. "I had been wondering when you would arrive to visit your offspring. She has been excited for this appointment for some time."
"I'd imagine," Hadrian said with a smirk curling up his lip as he approached Renesmee. "I only have half an hour, love. Then I have a meeting with the Volturi-"
"Take care, dear one," Renesmee admonished, tracing her warm hand over her husband's lightning scar. "You know how the Volturi tried to harm me in my tender infancy. They would do anything to avenge their honor on that day of fate."
"I have more power than the entire guard combined," Hadrian chuckled. "I wouldn't worry, love."
"I cannot help but express my distress for your health," Renesmee said, expressing said distress through pushing her feelings to Hadrian with the power she'd known her whole life. Amongst images of the Volturi's mass murders and Jane and Alec and the feeling of panic and fear, Hadrian could hear the screams that were the base of her greatest fears.
He only smiled at her with a tenderness no one else would ever receive, and brushed past his empress. He needed to visit his daughter, the heir to his empire. And so he approached the door to the tower containing the Heir Princess of the Pottermore Empire.
The werewolf guards posted by the tower nodded at Hadrian, recognizing the familiar scent of their emperor. Besides, they knew Renesmee would know an imposter immediately before any of the pack did. Hadrian ascended the staircase, the traps recognizing his magical signature as he walked past. He then opened the final door with a password in Parseltongue, and entered to see his heir.
Said heir was sprawled on the pristine sheets of her canopy bed, reading a book. The Heir Princess was dressed in a white t-shirt and periwinkle overalls with the legs rolled up to mid-calf. Her feet, covered in polka-dotted socks, kicked happily in the air.
"Hello, Allana," he said in his low British tenor.
Allana jumped to her feet, immediately springing into a more fitting, more regal posture.
"Hello, Father," she said, looking down at her feet.
"I assume your studies are going well," Hadrian said, smirking at the book that she'd been reading. The Collected Works of Shakespeare, Volume III, Edition X.
"Yes, father," Allana answered with a curt nod.
"Good, good," Hadrian said, searching for the right words to say. "I am inviting you to come to the Seelie Castle in Britain for a coming-of-age ceremony."
"Coming-of-age?" Allana asked.
"You are almost sixteen, aren't you?" Hadrian asked, an amused look appearing in his green eyes. "Believe me, daughter, you will enjoy this."
"I will," Allana answered, looking at her socks.
"You will arrive in one week," Hadrian added. "I thought I'd drop by to see how you were doing, Allana. I assume no boys, no girls in your life?"
"Not really, Father," Allana said, still looking to her socks. "I have no interest."
"Good," Hadrian said, and he rumpled his daughter's dark waves. "Be good to Carlisle and Esme Cullen."
"I will," Allana vowed, looking vaguely uncomfortable.
Hadrian then turned and left, and Allana let out a sigh of relief as the door closed. She walked over to her book and plopped on the bed. It seemed that she was always studying for her future as the Empress of the Pottermore Empire. She immediately returned to her feet and looked to her daily schedule.
Meet with the Emperor? Check.
She snapped her fingers and a bright red check appeared on the sheet. The next activity read Philosophy with Dr. Cullen.
Allana merely pulled on her loafers and smoothed over her overalls before descending her tower. Her great-grandfather never did mind her casual wear.
Renesmee Cullen-Potter strolled into her mother and father's cottage. It had been some time since she'd last spoken with her mother. Lady Isabella Cullen was sitting on the elegant upholstery, re-watching Romeo and Juliet with extreme intensity. Renesmee had tired of her mother's obsession with the story when she was still young enough to be friends with her Uncle Jacob.
"Greetings, Mother," Renesmee said dramatically.
"Ah, my darling Nessie," Isabella said, looking up to Renesmee, her golden eyes bright and spilling with emotion. "Tell me, how is Hadrian?"
Renesmee knelt beside her mother and placed her hand on Isabella's face, projecting her meeting with Hadrian to her exactly as she remembered.
"Excellent," Isabella said. "Very nice. Hadrian is a darling."
"Not a word I would have selected for the Emperor," Renesmee said, a smirk curling up her blood-red lips. "But it shall do."
"Alice says that the meeting will go fine," Isabella informed her. "Nothing to worry about, Nessie."
"I know," Rensmee admitted. "I just-I just hope that he comes to a better agreement. The Volturi are the only thing keeping him from inviting France and everything east."
"I'm sure he will," Isabella said, boredom underlying.
"Where is Father?" Renesmee asked, touching the locket her mother gave her so many years ago unconsciously.
"In the palace," Isabella said. "Playing that piano, as always."
"Thank you, Mother," Renesmee said, standing up.
"Oh, do tell your father that I request his presence as soon as the last of his songs," Isabella added, a careless afterthought.
Careless is exactly the word for Mother, Renesmee thought absently.
"I'll tell him," she said.
Allana knocked on the large wooden cross on Dr. Carlisle Cullen's office. The patient fair man opened it with a cool, easygoing smile on his face.
"Hello, Allana," he said.
"Great-Grandpa," Allana replied, with a ballerina's curtsy.
"Come," he said. "Today we'll be discussing Machiavellian tactics."
"Of course," Allana said. "I've done all the reading you assigned me. I believe it is better to be loved than feared."
"Ah," Carlisle said with a nod. "I believe your father would disagree with that. You see, he has learned the hard way that fear is the best way to control the people. Fear keeps the people in line."
"Yes, but it doesn't gain their loyalty," Allana argued. "They do not want to follow you. Besides, fear leads to anger, anger leads to hatred. Hatred leads to a rebellion."
"But fear can squash that rebellion," Carlisle informed her. He stared at her curiously. "Your father would be most interested in hearing this."
Allana felt a rising panic in her chest, but clenched her fists, keeping herself together.
"Yes, I believe he would be interested to know that I am taking my future rule seriously," she answered.
"I forgot to ask-how are the rituals affecting you? You'll have one more before you go to the Seelie Castle," he asked.
"I've seen no change since the last one," she admitted. "Maybe I've hit the top of my potential-"
"Nonsense," Carlisle said, swatting his free hand as he scribbled down notes. "Perhaps I did it wrong last time. I should've known better than to try an alternative to the candles, there's really only one true way to do these sorts of things."
He looked up to Allana.
"I'll see you on Friday night, then. Ten O'clock, don't forget!"
He then handed her an appointment note. She nodded, folding it and putting it in the bib of her overalls, and she exited for her tower once more.