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so throw me a rope to hold me in place.

show me a clock for counting my days.

- - - - - - -

This is how it went.

Marcus could see everything. Aro saw what he wanted.

Marcus could see how Aro loved Sulpicia. Marcus could see how Caius loved Athenodora. Love had no explanation for their kind. They were not manufactured to love. They were manufactured to destroy. To drain life and love and hope out of every mortal being, but not all of them. They were monsters. Monsters with hearts.

It was tight. Chelsea and Afton had been there when hope was abound. Lush. Vibrant. They were there when Aro's smile wasn't so scary. When friends were welcomed and not fearful. When they were viewed as 'heros', so to speak, not tyrants. They never wanted to be tyrants.

Jane would ask questions because she is still a child. The irony of what we are: change is never to touch us. We do not grow old, like the old woman in the squar. We will not have children, like the woman not to far from us. We will not breath mortal breath or know the heat of compassion for another human like thy mortal. But in our own world, and our own obscure emotion. We are diffrent. The irony: tim shall move on, despite us. We do not change with the world around.

Enough ramble. Jane asked questions about the laughter even her ears could hear. The hope that once echoed through the halls. Could he have regretted to slay his own kin? His beloved sister? Do not think on it. It does not matter the resolute that could have come. It is done, for the better. For the worst.

Jane could not ask Marcus these questions about flowers, and smiles, and laughs. It would bring a more hollow, dead look to the ancient dead man. Hollow, Chelsea, you cannot make him feel.

She would not ask dear Caius these relevant yet unspoken questions. Why did no one ask? When hope danced through the halls by name and voice, he was a softer person. Maybe? Could it be time worn his heart, like the rest it so often does to? How we try to change? Athenodora would also brush off the question. It was her friend. Once a long time ago. But like Caius, flowers, and smiles, and laughs were not to be discussed! The times had changed. . .ashes remained.

Sulpicia, she did not like. She did not like her. She would be kind, because Aro told her she must, but Jane did not like Sulpicia. Naive woman, loving, mirth blonde woman, do you not see why she hates you so? The tantrum of a little girl.

She would ask Aro. The only one, on occasion, who would fondly and delicately recall those days. Before power, but it did play a violent role.

He would talk of when Marcus once smiled. How everyone was happy, very happy, because she made them that way. It was alright, though. They were family. Such a strong word.

Off track a bit, someone once said, for I forget whom, that the only bonds that held the brothers together was power. But could that be truly true? Wasn't it so much more from the start? Before the gluttony of power crept into the minds? Yes, do you see? They went through Hell, and back, then out. Some stayed, perhaps. Returned for an unwanted visit. But, to the guard, only thin threads. Marcus saw. To each other, time had held them together. Steady, strong. Together, like and old knit sweater.

As was said, Aro told Jane about the flowers and laughs. He never said her name, till one day she asked.

Jane was just about to leave, her curiosity satisfied for the moments time, "Aro," she asked softly.

"Yes, Jane?"

"What was her name?. . .the woman?" Aro had told her. Of how she would dance with them all. How Caius wasn't so mean here (Elsewhere or in trial was another story, dear reader. He was as you know him.) How Athenodora didn't look in her mirror so often, or Sulpicia so alone. Marcus so tired. Or why there were dead flowers on the window sill of every open window, or open arch.

"Her name was Didyme. She was my little sister," he answered with a bittersweet smile. One the child could not see but with the reflection of the glass.

"Oh, you must miss her very much," she said softly.

Aro frowned, contemplating the question. Did he miss her, truly? "I suppose, one always misses that sort of this. It's always just. . .a bit quieter in a room, a bit emptier," he sighed at the truth of his words, "But do not fret, dear Jane! All is well, and all is the same. You would have loved her, I'm sure. But you cannot miss something you do not have,"

- - -

Do you want to know the reason Jane asked Aro? Marcus knew. Alec knew.

Alec always hated to see her face when she saw their master and his mistress in the sunlit hall on the afternoons. Jane wouldn't even look at them, but Alec did.

Could he blame Aro for the pain and hurt it caused Jane? No, because Aro justly loved Sulpicia, and he wasn't sure himself if what Jane felt was only a "childish infatuation" or not.

How it would pain the girl to see that woman have what she could not. That long hair, and perfect developed frame. That man, and that status is the vampire society. That respect. Everything she wanted. She wanted to be a princess. That knowledge of the stories that Jane begged Aro to tell her. Partly to know he was paying attention to her, partly to simply know. But no one wanted to tell.

Marcus saw. He saw how Aro ignored the small child feelings. Not in a cruel way, but in a "ignorant" way. A way he hoped Jane would forget, and a way that he could keep his piece of mind.

So how convoluted was the guard?

Marcus lost his love to Aro, whom Aro murdered. Didyme, whom Aro murdered, whom was Marcus's love, was the last and only ray of hope and happiness in that reverie. Jane, who wanted to know old stories, asked Aro because no one would tell her, and she asked Aro because she wanted to love him, but Sulpicia, who Aro loved and was his wife, got in the way of Jane, but Jane was a child. Chelsea was in charge of keeping it all together.

How lovely. How much banter over nothing.

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A.N. I felt bored, and useless. I have been so busy with end of the school exams, papaers, etc. that I don't have time to update much. I got this while I was thinking about Jane/Aro, which I'm not a fan off, but it's alright to read, sometimes, SOMETIMES. It just doesn't click in my head, cause im so book and think "he has a wife, he has a wife, he has a wife." and it drones and drones and im rambling once again. Hehe. Neway! It seems more one sided to me, as like a teenage crush. So thats what I made it! If you can see. . .( Marcus can!) And I also cant see many of the guard being around with Didyme and all them, sept chelsea cause. . . you know whatever. So this it is, useless banter. Again.

I would appreciate it if my other stories could be reviewed and what not. I promise I'll finish them very soon, because I know what I'm writing (in my head. XD) enjoy and review and all the jazz.