Disclaimer: The Characters are owned by Stephanie Meyer, I just get the privilege to play with them.
1. Water stories
But I've seen your long hair come down
It turned my head inside out
And I want you, I want you
Still do
Quesadilla- Walk the moon
Bronze curls bounced frantically as the pale child clung to the toffee colored vampire, brown eyes huge and frightened. Unconsciously filling the Egyptian with her fears. Her shock. Her gratitude. Seeing the images she passed, he walked a little faster. Getting her to safety his only thought.
They knew there would be a mistake. One day. Everyone hoped it wouldn't happen. But. Too many vampires in one place. Too many opportunities for a fight to start up. If was only a matter of time before Renesmee got in the way. Just thank the heavens someone with a straight head grabbed her before they broke her tiny frame.
"Don't worry, Little Sphinx," Benjamin comforted, patting the back of the halflings head gently, "just a lover's quarrel. It'll be over soon." Outside he extruded strength and wisdom, inside he reverently hoped that the two covens fighting about their mates would soon be over. The Cullen house and land had become a battlefield. Training gone wrong. Not the proper place for an observant, quiet little child.
Dense earth turned to mud as he neared a crystal river, the water singing a gentle tune as it bubbled by. Sitting down silently on a rock outcropping, he tried to delicately pull the tiny half-vampire off him only to get frantic pictures of fear racing through his mind's eye. She was not going to let go. Benjamin sighed softly at the girl's antics, smiling as he decided holding the girl was better than her sitting on the cold rock. Even though he himself was a cold rock. But at least he had clothes. And cuddled.
Holding her lightly, he listened to the cacophony of hisses and angry growls moving through the forest. Vampires. But not just vampires, but mated vampires. Benjamin knew not why mated vampires took bait so easily. A basic "your mate looks like a pig" sufficed enough to put any vampire into an ireful turmoil. A vague pang of sadness bolted through him. Unmated. Not coupled. Single. But that sadness was easily repressed with relief. Who wanted to duke it out just because of low blows?
"Tell a story, Benjamin," a tiny fingers suddenly tugging on his dark grey scarf, forcing his attention away from the sounds of fighting, "please." They tangled in the delicate silk fabric; quickly fingering the hieroglyphs etched fainting into the cloth. Her distracted eyes abruptly mesmerized by the perplexing maze of shapes lined in cream glimmering faintly in the dappled light.
Shaking her head, telling herself to not be distracted, she uttered another small "Please, Benjamin." Doe eyes finally rested on him, pleading. As if she didn't know she was going to get a story whether she said please or not.
No one could deny the small child her whims. No matter how tough. Benjamin smiled at the memory of Renesmee asking for a story from the Romanian coven. The dreaded Romanians. Barbarians. Fear inducers. Amun could barely stay in the same room as them. And yet, unabashed, a tiny fragile half-human girl goes up to them and ask for a story. Amused, the Romanians regaled the chocolate-eyed girl with a gruesome story of their downfall. She never asked for another story from them. Curiosity quenched. Forever
Tucking the girl neatly under his chin, he moved his hands over the stream water. Liquid, clear and prismatic, parted from the rolling water; following the thin hands of the Egyptian. Like a puppeteer he moved it around experimentally, amusing the small child absently by swishing it around her face before finally starting his story.
"Once long before you or I lived, there was merchant named Charaxos; who sold the finest merchandise in the Egyptian city of Naucratis," as he spoke the water swirled and danced, changing into ships and people. Painting pictures out of water. "And one day, as he stood in the market, he saw a large crowd gathered around the slave auction." A city filled with miniscule water people shifted and moved; a figure slightly more detailed than the rest, flowed between the blobs of people, "Moving through the crowd, he found that everyone was looking at a beautiful girl who had just been set up on the stone rostrum to be sold as a slave. She was unlike any Egyptian anyone had ever seen, white skin and cheeks like blushing roses. Charaxos caught his breath - for he had never seen anyone so lovely."
Renesmee giggled as the rostrum was formed with a delicate water replica of herself standing upon it, wearing a simple dress. "That's me!" Benjamin smiled warmly at the girl's happiness, his cold dead heart practically thawing at her adorableness.
"Consequently, when the bidding began, Charaxos determined to buy her and, being one of the wealthiest merchants in all Naucratis, he did so without much difficulty." He continued, "Upon buying the beauty, he found her name to be Rhodopis; a child stolen by pirates and sold into slavery for money. And the old besotted merchant took pity on her."
"Charaxos gave the girl everything. A house. A garden. Slaves to take care of her. Spoiling her like she was his own daughter. And there she thrived, a princess of her own little house," water Renesmee grew, turning into a girl who faintly resembled Renesmee only older, "But one day, while Rhodopis was bathing in the marble-pool in her garden, an eagle came swooping down upon her and stole one of her favorite rose-red slippers that sat near the pool," an eagle carrying a slipper swooped close to Renesmee's cheek, her fingers coming up to slap at it only for her digits to slide through the water leaving them damp.
"Rhodopis was—," Benjamin's story was halted as tanned hands snatched up the enthralled girl. Water splashing all over the bottom half of his jeans and shoes, as is concentration moved to the body towering over him. Hard obsidian eyes glared down at the vampire. Huge body shaking in anger. Jacob.
"What do you think you're doing, bloodsucker?" the tall man snarled, curling a rather indignant child under his arm.
"I was telling her a story," Benjamin stated coldly, wrinkling his nose at the shifters smell. Couldn't they smell better? Seriously. He had hoped that he could become accustomed to the smell. But no. that was not happening. Gross.
"Out in the—," it was the shifters turn to be cutoff; the little Halfling touched the shifters arm, an angry frown tugging on her lips. If anything it became livider when the Halfling pulled away, convulsions vibrating through him. "They're fighting?! I leave for twenty minutes and they start fighting!"
Jacob ignored the Egyptian and started toward the house, muttering crude words as he went. Renesmee wiggled slightly out of the shape shifters constricting grasp, placing a fleeting pale hand on Benjamin's olive cheek. The touch faint and swift, but he saw and felt it none-the-less.
Finish the story later.
And who was to deny the little Halfling. Already Benjamin missed the warmth the girl carried, her sweet personality. Amun was right, he had become overly attached.
