Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.
Renesmee Cullen slumbered inaudibly wrapped in satin sheets, gripping her light blue pillowcase. She saw two blank expressions in her dreams, both of them merely smiling upon the child. The first face seemed to be made of pure porcelain, with green eyes glowing like an emerald candle lit in dark room. The young Renesmee stared at this angel of light, and took her hand; she couldn't help but think that this angel's hand felt like a cool breeze rushing about her skin.
The angel kneeled down face-to-face with Renesmee.
"Hello, Renesmee," she greeted softly.
Renesmee flashed her brilliant smile. "You're beautiful. Are you an angel?"
The woman giggled at the inquiry. "Something like that. Renesmee, do you have any inkling as to who I am?"
The child shook her head to and fro, her deep bronze curls swinging rapidly before they finally rested upon her shoulders. "No," but then Renesmee paused, observing the angel in front of her and the one still waiting to speak. They seemed familiar somehow as their faces became clearer, though she was positive that she had never encountered with of them before. "Should I?"
"No," the angel replied, the love in her smile never leaving her lips. "Renesmee, my name is Elizabeth Masen."
Renesmee seemed to ponder this name for a moment, hearing it somewhere prior to what was obviously a dream. Her father had told her but a few stories of him as a young boy growing up in the early 1900's, and being a little rascal of a boy alongside his parents, Edward and Elizabeth. . . Masen.
Which means. . .
"That would make you my Grandmother," Renesmee stated, soaking in the name. What a beautiful, sophisticated name for such an angel. "But that doesn't explain why you're-"
"We're both here to see you, Nessie," the copper-toned angel interrupted, kneeling down with Elizabeth.
She had long, flowing midnight-black hair, light pink lips, eyes the color of a magnificent oak tree, and a smile that could put the sun to shame. It was easy to identify this stranger, and Renesmee knew in her heart that she would know this angel anywhere.
"And you're my Jacob's mother!" Nessie stated with delight.
She nodded, gently brushing her palm against Renesmee's rosy cheeks. Renesmee's smile grew a mile longer—this hand felt like the spring wind just after a downpour of rain. . . like her Jacob. "That's right. I'm Sarah."
"Renesmee, thank you so much for being born into my son's life. You and your mother are the paramount for him, and I have no doubt in my mind that he is very aware of that. I am so pleased that he could experience the absolute wonder of bringing something so innocent into this world. Because of you and your mother, Edward no longer has a purpose to hold onto the darkness that has been eating at his soul for decades; he's not alone anymore. My son has a family," Elizabeth expressed her gratitude as gently as she could, for the happiness in her heart could not be contained.
Renesmee squeezed her grandmother's hand supportively, letting go of Sarah's. She wiped away the falling tears of gladness.
"Nessie," Sarah said, and Renesmee turned her attention to her, "thank you for everything you've done for Jacob. He's never been so happy, and you bring that to him every single day with a simple breath. My boy is now whole."
"We will be forever grateful to you, young Renesmee. Our sons are finally at peace because you exist," Elizabeth added to her friend's statement. Sarah ruffled Renesmee's bangs. "And so, we shall watch always be there to watch over each and every one of you."
Renesmee embraced both women in tiny arms tightly, feeling the warmth radiating from the white-silk figures. Although she was not fully certain of her father's history, nor Jacob's; for as long as she's neither the two of them—a year and a half now, to be precise—have been inexplicably ecstatic just to be breathing in every last bit of air.
"We love you," Elizabeth whispered into her granddaughter's ear.
"I love you both, too," Renesmee replied.
But Sarah and Elizabeth vanished as the morning sun came bleeding sharply through the window glass. Her parents were already there, standing in the middle of the doorway, and smiling affectionately at their daughter. Yet it was Edward's smile that was more pronounced. Renesmee had already figured out that he had seen into her dreams, thus seeing his late mother.
She is a very beautiful angel, Renesmee mused, silently talking to her father. They both were gorgeous, actually.
Edward nodded agreeing while Renesmee scurried out of her bed, and hopped right into her father's awaiting arms.
"I have an old photograph of her if you would like to see them, Renesmee."
"I would love that!" The girl squealed happily.
"Who's her?" Bella questioned in mock suspicion.
"My mother," the vampire retorted, noticing that Elizabeth and Renesmee shared the same smile.
"Knock, knock," a friendly werewolf greeted, appearing out of nowhere behind the three Cullens.
"Jacob!" Renesmee sang in delight, being passed into the strong arms of her best friend.
She touched his cheeks, replaying the images of Sarah—she had never imagined Sarah would be so beautiful. When Renesmee finished, Jacob hugged her closer.
"You wanna know something, kiddo? Your dad and I used to be the worst of enemies before you came into our lives," Jake recollected aloud.
"Why," the child queried curiously. She could never imagine her Jacob and her daddy not getting along when they got along so well now.
"Well, because we were from worlds that forced us to be natural enemies, Nessie. . . And because we were fighting over the same girl." The shape-shifter cringed at the last bit; his deceased feelings for Bella were something he would remember with remorse.
Renesmee grimaced for a moment, but soon realized the truth of this somewhat disturbing statement. However, everything was okay now—Edward and Jacob seemed to love each other like siblings. Because destiny had always meant for her to bless that lives of those that surround her, barriers had been vanquished. Love remained set in stone between worlds that were once divided.
"Well, that's okay, I suppose. You two don't hate each other anymore, after all," Renesmee stated joyously. "Come on, Jacob! Onward to the main house for waffles!"
Voices the equivalent of wind chimes giggled in unison, and watched as Edward and Bella followed the werewolf and his imprint.
For all eternity, Elizabeth Masen (along with her husband) and Sarah Black would watch over their songs, and those whom were of great importance to Edward and Jacob—something along the lines of having two guardian angels.
"Thank you, Renesmee."