I decided to try my hand at a romance in the 30s, when Rosalie was human, between she and Carina. I don't know how much I got right, but I am fairly satisfied with it and I hope you all enjoy.
i can't remember what it
was like before you, and i
don't even know how we got
here but maybe that's exactly
what i needed. someone who
could make me forget where i
came from and someone who
could make me love without
knowing how to fall.
-r.m. drake
Rosalie's father worked at the bank, like other notably wealthy men in the city. It was a respectable job meant for the higher classes, and she had been thrilled when Royce King, the son of the bank's owner, took notice of her. He sent her flowers, complimented her, and she had been even more overjoyed by the fact that he proposed.
Life was perfect, until the Blacks came back to town.
They had always owned nearly half the town itself, alongside one of the banks in the next one over. They had left sometime when Rosalie was a child, and she remembered her mother being glad.
They had been too strange, her mother had said. No one had liked them because of their general queerness.
But now, they were back, living in the largest house in town. It had spread like a wildfire that Lady Black was dead, and that Lord Black was left raising his daughter alone.
"She's probably a perfect heathen," Mrs. Hale had told their neighbors. "Having gone so long without a mother. You can't leave a man to raise a child alone."
Rosalie had not paid it much mind, to be honest. She hadn't cared whether the Blacks were back or not.
At least, not until she had heard Royce mention offhandedly that "that Black girl" was easy on the eyes.
"But she's got nothin' on you, Rose," he had told her after, patting her arm. "Don't you worry about that. She's too...dark."
Rosalie hadn't known what he meant until she bumped into the youngest Black herself in the street, knocking them both off their feet.
"Terribly sorry," the girl across from her apologized, getting to her feet and holding out a hand.
Without much thought, Rosalie accepted it.
"It's perfectly alright," the blonde told her politely, brushing off her dress. "Accidents happen…"
She stopped when she noticed how finely the girl was dressed. She couldn't have been more than Rosalie's age, but she was obviously wealthy judging by her pretty, navy blue dress and hat.
"I'm Carina," the other girl held out a gloveless hand. It was pale and delicate, with long, nimble fingers. Rosalie carefully shook it. "Again, I really should apologize...I wasn't watching where I was going. It's been quite a long time since I've lived here."
Rosalie was startled to realize that this had to be the heiress, whose hair was as black as her name, shining in the sun. Stormy gray eyes appraised her.
"Rosalie Hale," the blonde made sure not to sound too furious. On the inside, she could not help but feel a spike of envy. This girl, with her aristocratic features and height nearly equal to her own, was the talk of the town at the moment. Regardless, Rosalie kept it nice. "Your accent...have you been to London?"
"I've lived there since I was six," Carina smiled, and Rosalie felt her stomach churn at the perfect white teeth. "I suppose it just stuck and never quite went away. I really am sorry to have bumped into you, but I really must be on my way. My father is waiting for me at the manor…"
"Yes, of course," Rosalie stepped aside so she could pass.
Carina only smiled again, leaned over, and plucked up a flower from the grass. She presented it to Rosalie, who took it purely out of courtesy.
"I hope we'll meet again. I haven't any friends here, and you seem like someone worth knowing."
Then, she was gone, leaving Rosalie to stand on the sidewalk and stare down at the little flower in bewilderment.
After a moment, she crushed it and went about her way.
"I met the Black girl today. We bumped into one another on the street."
"And what was she like?" her mother inquired.
"Beautiful," said Rosalie begrudgingly. "And well spoken. She dresses just as well."
"And what else happened?"
"Nothing. We exchanged polite conversation, she apologized, and she left."
"There has been talk around the town," her father interrupted. "That she gave you a flower."
"Yes, and? I disposed of it as soon as she was gone, father. It was her offer of friendship, which I have no need for."
"The neighbor's say she's a homosexual," her mother wrinkled her nose in disgust. "And if that isn't bad enough, I also heard that she had a lover before she came here. A lower class girl."
Her father scoffed. "Don't believe every rumor you hear. While it is entirely possible, there's also a chance she may not be, and there is nothing we can do regardless. Her father is the wealthiest man in town."
"Richer than us?" her littlest brother, Adam, exclaimed.
"Yes," the man absently waved his fork. "Much more so. I don't want you near her, Rosalie."
"Yes, father."
"Good. Now, about the gala the bank is hosting…"
Rosalie was getting quite tired of there being people rivalling her own beauty in town. First the elusive Cullens, and now, Carina Black, who had managed to share the spotlight at the gala.
She was entertaining a few of the guests, sipping from a glass of champagne. Rosalie could just make out her telling a story about life as a child in London, capturing the attention of those who had never left Rochester.
It was easy to ignore. Rosalie never did have a particular penchant for travel, or adventure. Her life was perfect already, so what more did she need?
Carina stopped speaking abruptly when she was confronted by Edward Cullen, smile slipping from her lips. The other guests were trying their hardest to eavesdrop, but judging by their disappointed looks, were failing.
The boy and the girl leaned in even closer, the former looking furious, the latter just as angry. He was looming over her in a way that would have made any other female in the vicinity cower and stop speaking, because you simply didn't speak ill to any man.
But Carina Black, it seemed, certainly was. Her brows were drawn together, lips pursed, and then she finally did something that surprised everyone.
She slapped Edward Cullen.
The young man blinked at her, obviously surprised, as his brother Carlisle and sister-in-law Esme hurried over, obviously apologizing.
Carina responded to them politely, turned on her heel, and stalked away.
Rosalie realized too late where she was headed.
"Fancy seeing you here," Carina greeted, taking yet another casual sip of her champagne. "Rosalie Hale, was it?"
"Yes," Rosalie forced a smile. "It's nice to see you again."
"Miss Black!" boomed Royce, sweeping his way over. "Is your father attending the gala as well?"
"Yes," the raven haired girl dipped her head in a nod, speaking far more formally than before. Even her body language had changed. "He said to inform you he would be late. He has business to attend to, but should be here shortly," her head swiveled suddenly, and she flashed a polite smile. "Or now, I suppose."
Royce craned his neck to see, but Rosalie could not, until Lord Black himself came sweeping through the crowd and put an arm around his daughter.
"Lord Black! What a pleasure to meet you!"
Lord Black was a tall man, leanly built with long black hair and striking gray eyes like his child.
"Call me Sirius," he greeted warmly, shaking Royce's hand. He turned to face Carina. "I saw that Cullen boy giving you trouble...are you alright?"
His concern was a bit more than touching. Rosalie couldn't remember the last time her father asked her anything of the sort.
"Fine," Carina reached up to squeeze the hand on her shoulder, lips quirking upward. "Nothing I couldn't handle, as you well know."
Sirius barked out a laugh. "Don't I ever! You're just like your mother."
Royce managed to tug the man away to his own father, pulling him into a conversation that left Rosalie and Carina alone again.
"Your mother has been eyeing me for the past ten minutes," the other girl raised a brow. "It's quite disconcerting. I suppose she's heard the gossip on me?"
"Perhaps," said Rosalie. "Perhaps not. Are you really a homosexual?"
"In what sense?"
"That you like women."
"Of course I like women. I am one. I have many friends who are women."
"I meant in the romantic sense, Miss Black."
"Ah," Carina tilted her head, swirling her champagne in the glass. "Then yes, Miss Hale. I do. I find men to be rather physically unappealing. They're so rough, so...hard. Women are softer, gentler. Prettier."
Rosalie lifted her chin. "And is that what this is, Miss Black? A ploy to steal me from my fiance?"
Carina actually laughed. "Why would I bother with a taken woman, especially one so uninterested in change? No, your hand in friendship was all I desired. I was not lying about that. I can see, however, that in light of my preferences, you want nothing more to do with me. Goodbye, Miss Hale."
She swept away, maneuvering with grace through the crowd until she could find her father. He was speaking with some of the other men, but did not shoo her away or look remotely disapproving. Instead, he smiled down at her and looped his arm through hers.
Rosalie was surprised when they allowed her to be included in a conversation that was surely about politics.
What a strange girl indeed.
Rosalie put Carina Black out of her mind, but she could not escape the stories of how the girl had yet again assaulted a man. This time, it had been one who had copped a feel, a drunk man. Her father had been furious, and the man had been found unconscious in an alley.
The bad part was, Rosalie wasn't sure if her father had done it or if Carina had. She could still remember the wicked gleam in the girl's eyes when she assured the man weeks ago that she could handle herself
She still remembered the way he had relaxed, as though believing her.
Vera had wanted to talk about it when she came over.
"She really is a homosexual?" her only friend had questioned, curious and eager for news. Her baby boy giggled in her lap. "And she wasn't interested in you at all?"
"No," Rosalie had told her, feeling a slight offense at the fact that someone, regardless of their gender, had not envied or desired her. She was, had been, the most gorgeous woman in town.
"Strange," was all Vera had to say to that.
That had been an hour ago, and now, Rosalie was navigating the streets of Rochester on her own in the dark, on her way home.
A familiar call made her backtrack, cross the street, and stand beside her fiance, who had shouted.
"Beautiful, isn't she, boys?" he said proudly, tugging her close.
They agreed, put in their own remarks, wondering what she'd look like without clothes.
Rosalie decided then that it was time to leave, pulling away and informing Royce that she would see him tomorrow, when he was sober.
He jerked her back to him, hot breath on her face as he rasped, "Come on, Rose, why not take off a few layers?"
Her struggling was futile. Clothes came off. The men laughed.
Rosalie regretted crossing the street.
Barely hanging on, bleeding and broken, mind clouded with pain, Rosalie wished she would just die already, wondered why she hadn't.
She could vaguely hear footsteps, and then her body was moved. She whimpered in protest, flinching hard, but the person only cradled her close.
"Rosalie," the voice was familiar, accented. The person sounded worried, and the blonde breathed raggedly in response. Things were becoming jumbled, including the following words. "Ro...who did...can you...Carina…"
The last word caught her attention.
Of course Carina Black would be the one to find her on her deathbed.
A hand brushed aside her hair, matted with blood, and something glowing was all Rosalie could remember before everything went black.
When Rosalie opened her eyes, there was a blinding light above her. She wondered briefly if this was what came after death.
There was a shuffling beside her, and she managed to turn her head, blinking rapidly, and realized with a jolt that she was not dead.
If she were dead, Carina Black wouldn't be asleep in the chair beside her.
"What," the blonde rasped. "Why…"
Carina awoke so violently that Rosalie flinched back on instinct.
"I'm sorry," the raven haired girl apologized softly. "I got you here as quickly as I could. They were gone when I got there...you nearly died in my arms."
Rosalie did not know whether to thank or curse her. She settled on silence instead, turning her gaze back to the ceiling as she swallowed.
"Your father kicked up a fuss when he learned it was I who found you. They didn't let him in for that reason, but your fiance has been strangely absent throughout the whole ordeal."
Sharp gray eyes assessed Rosalie's wince, and the blonde, utterly humiliated, curled in upon herself.
"I see," said Carina flatly. She stood just as the door banged open, and for a moment, sounded almost regretful. "I'll see you, Miss Hale."
Rosalie's family rushed in with question after question, demanding answers, and she didn't know how to answer them.
So she didn't. She stayed silent, ignoring their loud voices and recoiling from any touches.
She almost wished Carina Black were here again. She, at least, understood.
Carina did not return, though in the days following, Rosalie would take note of a single paper lily, carefully folded, laid upon her table.
She had accumulated seven, each of a different color, which she did not have the heart to throw away.
When she was discharged, her mother had informed her how worried Royce had been, and how he had been too busy at the bank to come see her.
They were acting as though she had only fallen ill, instead of...instead of…
Rosalie couldn't even think it. Her entire being shied away from the thought of the man who was, apparently, still her fiance. She threw away any flowers he sent her, though the paper lilies never stopped, even when she was home.
She hid them all away in a drawer. There were pinks, reds, purples; there were blues, greens, oranges. There was even the occasional yellow.
She didn't know why she liked them. They were delicate, useless little things she would normally have tossed out, but the thought that they were being carefully left for her made her sentimental.
Rosalie started to despise the attention she was given. She would let no one touch her, sneer at those who complimented her, or even looked her way.
She had gotten many visitors bearing gifts and well wishes. Those went into the garbage, too.
Her father still wanted her to look presentable and go out, no matter how much she wished she could stay inside, barred away from the world.
Today was one of those days.
Rosalie sighed, ignoring the whispers and the stares. She was very nearly at Vera's when there was a call, just like before.
Her entire body trembled, and when she did not respond, the shouts grew louder, closer. Her heart pounded in her ears, and her breathing grew shallow.
No no no, not now, go away…
She walked faster. Footsteps followed.
There was a crash behind her, and she paused, turning just enough to see Royce had fallen in the mud. Carina Black stood over him, and her look of surprise did not look quite right, quite as genuine.
It were almost as though…
No. It couldn't be.
"I'm so sorry," she could make out the apology, see the hands clasped together as the man stood, huffing. "I really am a klutz, you see...oh, now you'll have to go home and change! I'll pay for another suit, I assure you-"
"Don't worry about it," said Royce with a strained smile. "I must be on my way. Excuse me."
He turned on his heel and stalked off.
Gray eyes caught Rosalie's from where she hid, and then she was joined around the corner by Carina.
"Are you alright?"
"Fine," Rosalie said after a moment, though she still quivered.
Carina noticed. "Would you prefer I left, Miss Hale?"
The blonde swallowed. Her heart rate was slowing, her thoughts becoming more collected. Part of her recoiled at the thought of the other girl walking away, leaving Rosalie to navigate the streets alone.
"Stay," she softly requested. "Please."
Carina nodded, and they walked around the town together in comfortable silence. As the sun began to set, she made sure to walk Rosalie back to her door.
The blonde couldn't stop herself from asking if she would be alright heading home on her own.
"I'll be fine," the raven haired girl flashed her a smile. "But thank you for the concern."
She strode off, and Rosalie watched until she was out of sight before finally slipping inside.
Two of the four other men who assaulted Rosalie that night mysteriously disappeared. Three days after, they were found dead just outside of Rochester. Their bodies were mutilated, but by some miracle, their faces had been left completely alone, enough to identify who they were.
The other two were found the same way a month later.
Somehow, Carina Black was always there when Royce came calling, and Rosalie could see the man getting increasingly frustrated, not to mention antsy. The deaths of his coworkers had taken its toll on him. He was jumpy, nervous, always looking over his shoulder.
Today was the day he tried to push.
"Really, Miss Black, while it's nice you and my Rose here are such good friends, I think we should get to spend some time alone, don't you?"
"No," Carina said pleasantly. "Not particularly. Rosalie, would you like to see my home?"
Rosalie nodded her consent, and Carina, hand hovering near her elbow in a way that told her to walk ahead without touching, turned back to Royce.
Rosalie took the nonverbal cue and walked around the corner to wait.
When Carina returned, she looked only mildly ruffled and asked quietly, "Are you alright?"
"I will be," Rosalie murmured.
The lilies kept coming.
One day, while cleaning, her mother happened to discover them all and had them dumped out on Rosalie's bed when she got home.
There had to be at least one hundred of them, an assortment of colors splayed out on the comforter.
"What is this?" her mother's voice shook as she spoke.
"Flowers," said Rosalie, as though it were obvious. She brushed by the woman and returned them to their drawer.
"They aren't from Royce, are they?"
"No."
"They're from that Black girl!" her mother realized, gasping. "Rosalie, don't tell me she's turning you into a...a…"
"No," Rosalie could not stop herself from snapping. "She isn't. She is my friend, mother, and the only one who understands what I have been through."
"Royce came calling yesterday, but you weren't here. He said that you've been avoiding him."
The blonde girl did not speak, only went over to the window and gazed out at the stars.
"Rosalie, this must stop! If you keep acting so cold, surely he'll call of the engagement and move on…"
"Let him."
"What?" her mother's eyes widened.
"Let him," Rosalie hissed, finally having had enough. "He was the one who did this to me, mother, and I think you've known all along! He and his friends caught me in the street, and they...they…"
She could not finish, and even if she had, would not have gotten to. Her father had just stopped by, having heard the conversation, and was not pleased.
"I'm glad they're dead!"
Her mother recoiled, and her father did not say a word. Instead, he strode in purposefully, scooped up the drawer full of lilies, and left.
Rosalie hurried after him, and could do nothing more than watch as he dumped them into the fireplace. She could only watch them burn, hand over her mouth.
"That's enough of your gallivanting around with that girl," he told her firmly. "You will spend time with your fiance, and you will stop accusing him of such terrible things. Is that clear?"
"Yes," she whispered.
Rosalie couldn't do it. She had been alone with Royce for only ten minutes, and when he tried to caress her face, to apologize, she had fled.
She hadn't known where she was going, or where she would end up. She only kicked off her heels and ran, ignoring his furious shouting.
After what seemed like hours, she sank down into the grass, hoping she had gotten far enough away that he would not follow.
She buried her face between her knees, glad there was no one there to see as she shook, heart racing.
"Come on, Rose, take off a few layers!"
"She's a beauty, isn't she?"
Hands sliding across her body, teeth at her neck, biting down on her breast, and then she screamed as she was torn apart inside, over and over and-
"Rosalie."
The blonde slowly raised her head, struggling to breathe, and gray eyes pierced hers. A body fell down into the grass beside her, heedless of ruining clothing, and Carina Black held out a hand.
In it was a small, pale blue lily.
Rosalie shakily took it, cradling it to her chest as she gasped for air, and Carina scooted around so that they faced one another.
"Look at me," she softly commanded. Rosalie did so. "Breathe in...and then out."
The blonde copied her motion, again and again, until her heart slowed and the memory faded. They were there for a long few minutes, she suspected, even as rain started to drizzle down upon them.
"I'm sorry," she managed to get out, swallowing hard. "I-I've been avoiding you…"
"Your parents' doing, I'm sure," Carina gently interrupted, before standing and extending a hand. Slowly, Rosalie took it and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet.
Carina dropped her hand just as quickly and tilted her head.
Rosalie followed.
They ended up at Carina's home, and once inside, the girl offered Rosalie a nightdress.
"I refuse to let you go home tonight," she had said firmly. "You'll stay here."
Rosalie hadn't bothered to argue, only slid into the nightdress and held the paper lily to her chest. She was left alone in the sitting room while Carina, too, went to change.
The room was quite large, not to mention warm as the fire crackled nearby. There were pictures of a younger, grinning Carina with two dark haired people, her mother and father. They looked happy, more so than she had ever seen, and in the later photos, there was only the man and his daughter.
Alone.
"My father is out on business," came a voice from the doorway.
Rosalie jumped, hastily backing away from the photographs. Carina had returned, though instead of a nightdress, she wore a pair of loose flannel pants and a large shirt that clearly belonged to her father.
"I like them better," the other girl said by way of explanation, before moving to sit on the rug before the fire. She patted the spot beside her, drawing her legs up.
Carefully, Rosalie sat.
"My parents," the blonde murmured. "You were right. They forbid me from seeing you, because…" she stopped, realizing it would be rude to continue, but Carina only waved her on. "Because you like women. They say you're corrupting me."
"You don't seem to care as much as you did before. You've changed," forlorn gray eyes regarded her. "I wish we could have become friends under different circumstances, Miss Hale."
"Rosalie."
"Rosalie," Carina corrected herself, smiling softly. "I see you like the lilies."
"Yes," admitted Rosalie, twirling it between her fingers. "My father...he found the rest and burned them. They left me alone for a week, before forcing my hand at spending time with him."
"Lilies have always been a favorite of mine...my mother used to make them, hide them for me to find. It was a game we played together. They aren't real, as I'm sure you'd have preferred, but this way they will never wilt. It was a way to ensure that, even while you are alone, you are not without a friend."
Rosalie wasn't quite sure what to say. She had not expected to become fond of the other girl, who had not only saved her life, but stood up for her and protected her when no one else cared. She had come to realize that no one particularly liked her, only her looks. She was something beautiful they admired, but would never bother to get close to, because they simply didn't care.
She had also realized how vain she was, to have been jealous of Carina for being beautiful, for seeing her as competition. She had experienced what happened to beautiful women firsthand, and she would never wish that on anyone, especially not the person across from her.
"Is it bad," Rosalie said instead, off topic with something that had been bothering her. "That I'm happy the other men are dead? That I wish…"
That I wish Royce were dead?
A shadow fell across Carina's face.
"No," she responded quietly, looking away. Her eyes sparked in the firelight. "No, it's not. I'm glad they went the way they did. Whoever did such a thing had the right idea."
Something about the way she said it unsettled Rosalie, who realized that she did not know anything about Carina Black.
"Would you have done the same?"
"Hurt them?"
"Yes."
The raven haired girl finally met her eyes, releasing a breath. "Yes."
"It's been all over town," began Rosalie softly. "That you harmed a man who touched you. They found him unconscious in the alley."
"Yes."
Somehow, pieces were finally falling together. Carina had not come to see Rosalie both days the men were killed, nor until after they were found. She had resurfaced then, smiling as she said she had been ill and was alright now.
She had no qualms about hurting the man who touched her, and Rosalie's mind flashed back to the cold anger in the face of Edward Cullen, her father's unconcern. Even after Rosalie's assault, she had never seen the man look remotely worried about his only daughter walking the streets at night alone.
"Rosalie?"
"You did it," Rosalie slowly realized. "You're the one who killed them, aren't you?"
She waited to be told that was preposterous, that she was crazy. Instead, Carina calmly replied, "Yes."
The blonde swallowed. "For me?"
"Because of you, yes. I've never been quite fond of those who would dare to touch a woman."
The honesty was truly startling.
"If you want to leave," Carina carefully stood, speaking quietly. "I'll see you out. I understand it could be something hard to comprehend, that someone so close has done something so terrible…"
Rosalie stood as well, and for a moment, she did consider leaving. It seemed only right, to leave the house of this murderous girl and never return.
But she had saved Rosalie's life. Once by getting her to the hospital; twice by eliminating the men who would surely have hurt her again.
One more thing didn't add up.
"That night," she stood straight, frowning. "There was a light above me, but I know for a fact you don't carry a flashlight. And the lilies...you shouldn't have been able to get into my room, but I never stopped to question..."
Slowly, Carina lifted the hem of her shirt and drew out a long, thin stick from the waistband of her bottoms.
"It's a wand," the raven haired girl held it out, flinching when Rosalie took a step back.
After a moment, however, she accepted the object and ran her fingers over the wood.
"Witches don't exist."
"They do. And wizards."
"Aren't they supposed to be…"
"Ugly?" Carina laughed softly, as though unable to help herself. "No. Not all the time. We're the same as you." She sobered rather quickly. "I wasn't supposed to tell you...but I couldn't bear to…"
"Bear to what? Why aren't you supposed to tell me? Assuming I believe you, that is," Rosalie added strongly.
"We aren't supposed to reveal ourselves to those without magic for our own protection. If we do, we have to wipe their memories...I couldn't do that to you. If you don't believe me, if you still trust me at all...give me the wand."
Rosalie hesitated, watching Carina start to coil in on herself, hurt. It made her stomach churn to see the normally charming, confident girl so different.
She held out the wand.
Looking quite amazed, Carina took it, whispering, "Expecto Patronum."
Out of the wand bounded a wispy silver lioness, and the raven haired girl's eyes widened.
Rosalie suspected that, whatever it was, it wasn't supposed to look like that, and asked as much.
"They're a representation of who you are," Carina swallowed and sat the wand down. "What you have the greatest affinity with. They can even protect you...mine was a wolf until now."
The fire was dying down.
"Are they supposed to change?"
"They can."
"Why?" Rosalie frowned, narrowing her eyes.
In the dim light, Carina shook her head hard, barely heard as she mumbled, "Because I fell in love."
"Oh."
Carina managed to get Rosalie home in time, teleporting (apparating, she had called it) them into her room. She had bid the blonde goodbye, promising never to bother her again, and left without another word.
Rosalie knew it was for the best. Loving another woman simply wasn't right.
It didn't mean it bothered her any less, seeing Carina cross the street to avoid her, having to spend more time with Royce. She had gone home and cried more than once over it.
No more lilies appeared in her room.
She hid the one from months before, where her mother and father would never find it. Her life was dull, meaningless, and she could not remember the last time she had any sort of fun.
She was to be married today.
Nothing had ever terrified Rosalie more. She half expected Carina to charge in and save her, either brandishing her wand or talking them out of having a wedding altogether. She couldn't for the life of her figure out why she wanted such a thing to happen, instead of a man come to save her, be her knight in shining armor.
As she stared in the mirror at herself in her wedding dress, she thought that there was never a more beautiful bride. It made her sick to her stomach just thinking about today, when she would be tied to Royce King forever, forced to bear his children, to…
Rosalie felt bile rise in her throat and choked it down, turning to get a glass of water.
She halted with one hand still outstretched at the sight of what was on the table.
A paper lily.
She hastily hid it in her dress when her mother came in, gushing over how gorgeous she was, how happy she must be.
Rosalie didn't say a word.
"Should anyone here present know of any reason this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace!"
There was a pause, and Rosalie waited with bated breath to see if someone was going to speak up, hoped desperately that they would.
They didn't, and later on, everyone would mistake that the tears on her cheeks were from happiness.
How wrong they were.
"You didn't go to the wedding and speak up for her?"
Carina rolled over in her bed, throwing her pillow at the door.
Sirius entered anyway, perching on the edge of the bed.
"I know she knows the truth," he told her softly. "And I know you love her. Why did you not save her from such a fate?"
"She doesn't want me," Carina bit out, finally sitting up to face him. "I confessed my love for her and she threw it back at me."
"But did she ever say she didn't love you back?"
"Well, no…"
"See?" Sirius reached out to grab her hand. "Darling, life as been hard without your mother by my side. She was the one meant for me, I felt it the moment we met, and I know you felt the same for Rosalie Hale. I could never have left your mother that way, resigned her to live a life of torment...and I know you won't leave her, either, even if she doesn't love you back yet."
Carina grumbled that yes, she could indeed leave her. Her heart, however, was not in it, and they both knew it.
"But you won't," her father squeezed her hand. "Because you're my daughter. Go help that girl before he ruins her again."
The young woman snatched her wand off the nightstand and was gone in seconds, leaving Sirius to smile at the spot she had vacated.
Everything would work itself out.
Rosalie lay back on the bed, trembling, barely able to breathe as she waited for Royce to leave the bathroom and consummate their marriage.
There's no one to save you now, a nasty voice whispered. You will be his plaything for the rest of your life. You chased off the one person who could save you. Who could love you.
Love between two women is wrong.
But, Rosalie knew that wasn't why she had turned Carina away. She had done it because she was afraid, a coward, and now that she had made her bed, she would lie in it.
It didn't mean she had to like it.
There was the sound of a toilet flush from the bathroom, and Rosalie steeled herself as the door opened.
Royce did not come out. Instead, there was a muffled sound, and then a dark cloaked figure stepped out.
Hastily, Rosalie sat up.
"Carina?"
Carina stared at her for a moment.
"I don't suppose this is a good time to tell you how breathtaking you are in white?"
Rosalie choked back a laugh, feeling tears well in her eyes.
"You came back, after all those months…after what I did…"
"I decided I couldn't leave you alone," Carina said quietly, and Rosalie noticed that her wand was drawn. "I'm going to get rid of him, but I don't want you in there, alright?"
"I'll get blamed for it," Rosalie realized. "Won't I?"
The raven haired girl paused, already halfway in the bathroom.
"Yes," she admitted. "But I didn't think you'd want to stay anywhere near here, either. I could keep him unconscious, if you'd like, but part of me would rather do my worst."
"And what's your worst?" the blonde could not help but ask, not concerned at all for Royce's life or wellbeing. To be frank, she had imagined him going the same way as the other men.
"Worse than anything hell could dream up," Carina's answering smile was positively wicked, eyes dark. "But I sadly haven't the time."
"Let me watch."
Dark brows rose. "Really?"
"I want you to wake him up," Rosalie ordered slowly, crossing the room in a few short strides. "I want him to see me. And then I want you to make him suffer."
Carina, it seemed, could not refuse her.
"If the lady wishes."
The witch directed her wand at Royce, who awoke on the floor, arms bound behind his back. He spluttered at the sight of them, eyes widening.
"What's going on here?" he demanded. "Leave my house at once! Rose, get rid of her this instant!"
"I don't think I will," Rosalie's lips curled up into a smile, and he flinched at the sudden realization of what was going on as Carina's wand tip glowed.
And then, he was screaming, and she was laughing.
When they departed, it was many hours later, and there was an near unrecognizable body found in Royce King's bathroom. The only thing saved was the face, frozen in a mask of terror.
The Blacks were never seen nor heard from again.
Carina lounged back in her seat at the Black Manor in Britain, watching as Rosalie read a book by the fire. The blonde had thus far ignored the attention, but finally deigned to acknowledge her.
"You have a staring problem," Rosalie told her, leisurely turning a page.
"Perhaps," came the reply. "Only for the lady, of course."
The blonde's lips twitched. "Of course."
Carina smiled when Rosalie finally glanced up, and she leapt nimbly from her seat to cross the room. She perched on the arm of the other woman's chair.
"I have something for you."
"Whatever could it be?" Rosalie feigned ignorance.
She was presented with a paper lily, and she smiled down at it. Over the years, she had accumulated many, especially after their escape from Rochester. Everyday, there was one hidden somewhere in the house for her to find.
This lily was bigger than the rest, and curiously, she peered inside.
A ring glinted back at her, and Rosalie carefully removed it, staring up at Carina with wide eyes.
"I know we can't be together officially yet," the raven haired woman explained, reaching out to tuck her hair aside. "And I know your views on it, but will you marry me, one day?"
Rosalie twirled the ring between her fingers. It was truly beautiful, carefully chosen, judging by the amethyst stone in the center, two halves of the ring itself twining together to surround it.
"For your eyes," Carina fidgeted nervously, waiting.
"Yes," said Rosalie finally.
"You're sure?"
The blonde smiled, slipping the ring on.
"I've never been more sure about anything in my life."
Many years later, Rosalie Hale-Black died.
A single paper lily was left upon her gravestone each and every year, until the giver herself was no more.