WARNING: May contain spoilers!
Hello everyone! This is my first endeavor into the world of Twilight. It's a pre-Twilight one-shot between Esme and Carlisle before Edward leaves to go on his "teen rebellion" thingumy. Disclaimer: Characters belong to Stephanie Meyer, 'Chamomile Tea' belongs to Katherine Mansfield. Critique welcome, I kinda chugged this out in ten minutes. Cheers! DR
Chamomile Tea
Outside the sky is light with stars;
There's a hollow roaring from the sea.
And, alas! for the little almond flowers,
The wind is shaking the almond tree.
How little I thought, a year ago,
In the horrible cottage upon the Lee
That he and I should be sitting so
And sipping a cup of chamomile tea.
Light as feathers the witches fly,
The horn of the moon is plain to see;
By a firefly under a jonquil flower
A goblin toasts a bumble-bee.
We might be fifty, we might be five,
So snug, so compact, so wise are we!
Under the kitchen-table leg
My knee is pressing against his knee.
Our shutters are shut, the fire is low,
The tap is dripping peacefully;
The saucepan shadows on the wall
Are black and round and plain to see.
I can see the smirk hiding behind Edward's eyes as I move from the little-used kitchen and out onto the patio of our Appalachian home. Go out and play, little boy I think aloud at him. Mummy and Daddy need some time alone. He makes a face at me before disappearing obediently.
The porch is empty, lit with the flickering light of candles leaping against the wooden supports. I can hear the peepers in the distance as I sit at the wicker table, setting down the tea-tray. I lift the cover off and pour a cup, lifting my nose to inhale deeply.
There is a golden chuckle behind me, and Carlisle's deft hands slide onto my shoulders as he bends to press a kiss to my hair.
"Drinking chamomile tea again, my dearest?" he murmurs in my ear. I tilt my head, inviting, and he plants two obliging kisses on my neck before moving to the chair opposite mine and sitting down gracefully.
"The moon is a drinking horn tonight," I say instead of answering his rhetorical question. My beloved turns his pristine profile to the moon suspended in the starry sky, and there is peaceful silence between us.
Carlisle is very understanding of my few remaining human quirks. As a child raised by tutors and housekeepers, my nanny had often given my chamomile tea to drink at night to soothe my anxiousness. Now a woman and a vampire , I still retain my love of that drink, and on some nights I make myself a pot of it and simply inhale the familiar aroma. There are times when the homesickness causes me to weep, and this Carlisle also understands. I am so blessed to have his love.
Tonight, I weep not for myself, but for my dear son, Edward. I can see the turmoil in him, and it frightens me. My beloved, sensing my distress, presses his knee to mine. I fumble for his hand beneath the table and he holds it tightly in comfort.
"Edward is going to leave us for a time." Carlisle's voice comes out of the darkness like a ghost, startling me. Then his words sink in.
"What? Why? Are we not doing enough for him?"
Carlisle scoots his chair closer to mine and urges me to lay my head against his shoulder. I do so willingly, curling up against his side. The scent of the tea fills my nostrils, making my heady.
"He just needs some time. He hasn't told me yet, but I can see it in his eyes."
"He is coming back though, right?" I whisper. The tea is cooling quickly now, so close to my frigid skin. The scent fades.
His hand tightens on my opposite arm. "I do not know. But if he does, he will always be welcome home."
I set my cup aside and wrap my arms around my lover.
"Always."
He knows I mean more than Edward's being welcomed home whenever he should choose to return. He bends and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "I love you, my dearest Esme." He leans up and breaks off a sprig of almond blossom from the tree that drapes its lightly scented branches over the patio, tucking it into my hair. His next words are a quote.
"Light as feathers the witches fly, the horn of the moon is plain to see; by a firefly under a jonquil flower a goblin toasts a bumblebee."
"Toast with me, my dearest," I tell him, pouring two fresh cups. I hand one to him, though he looks at my with questions in his eyes.
"To Edward's safety?"
I kissed him on the mouth. "And to us, my love; and to chamomile tea."
And there 'tis. What do you think?