Blood Tie

Warnings: Some explicit content, character death.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.


Bella

The wind caught and played at my hair, trailing it across my face and behind me. I stood atop a peak in the Austrian Alps, the sunlight dancing across my skin, making it glisten. Only my face was visible, my torso covered up by a black leather jacket, my hands by gloves.

Even if I had been human I would not have felt the cold, the snow around my boots, or the biting chill of the wind. I may as well have been a statue, for all the feeling I had now.

From the moment I'd heard those words, those terrible, numbing words, I couldn't feel anything. The second the cell phone had slipped from my hand, I hadn't waited for Didyme to come back with Aro, or anyone else. I had just run.

The grief was still too raw, too painful. I couldn't let anyone see me like this; see the pain I was in. A pain that had no outlet, not anymore, since I couldn't cry in this body, not the way a human could.

It just felt like an awful, insidious pressure, building up inside of me, with no chance of relief, of release.

I knew this day would come, had always known, ever since I had taken the decision to give in to my suspicions, that day Aro saved me in the parking lot at school, and find out what Aro and his family were. I had always known I would face this pain ever since I had chosen to become immortal and live my life with Aro.

That didn't make it any easier to bear. Charlie was dead, and I would never see him again. Sue was dead, and I would never see how happy she made my dad. For the first time, I felt the full spectrum of pain and impotent rage that were the ramifications of my decision to become immortal and leave my human life behind.

Except I couldn't. I hadn't. I had carried Charlie, Renee and Phil in my heart when I left America, and they never left. That was why it hurt so badly, every time they called me, or emailed me. I had stopped looking at my email a long time ago; something I regretted now.

There was so much regret living inside of me now, and it demanded release.

I relieved it the only way I could. I screamed, my voice echoing across the mountains as I bent in and over myself, my hair falling forward to shield my face from the sun, from the world, a glossy, glistening cocoon hiding me away. I longed for sleep, for some kind of escape from the pain, as my voice carried, far and wide, unleashing all my pain and my sorrow.

Finally my voice petered out, and I simply knelt on that snowy mountaintop, my head in my hands, hair streaming all around me in the wind.

The wind brought the scent of my husband and our Guard to my nose, and I sighed. I hadn't exactly left a note, and it would only be a matter of time before they found me. No doubt Didyme ran straight to her brother when she overheard my conversation with Dr. Grant.

I didn't want Aro, or anyone else to see me like this. I had never cried in front of them, not since I was changed. Not even after my fight with Charlie about coming to his wedding. I couldn't let him see me as anything less than the strong and powerful Bella I had become.

She sure as hell wasn't in the building now.

I tried to find the strength to get up, to pull myself together, but it wouldn't come. Any I possessed was consumed by grief.

Perhaps if I laid down and closed my eyes, perhaps through sheer force of will, I could escape this pain. I lowered myself to my side, curling into my body, into a hard, leather-clad ball.

I felt and heard my family draw closer, heard their voices, smelt their scents on the wind. Particularly Aro's.

His voice was strained, concerned for me. He always did hate it when I went off alone, and now he was even more so. A nudge of guilt pierced through the grief, and I moved slightly.

I couldn't be seen from where I now lay, but I needed to do was whisper my husband's name and he would find me.

All of a sudden, I needed his arms around me like nothing else, not even blood. I needed his strength to restore my own, even if it meant letting him see me so weak. I needed him here.

"Aro…" I breathed, and I heard his indrawn breath as he heard my whisper. I felt their footsteps draw near, fleeter than the fastest predators, and then Aro's shoes were in my sight, and I looked up at him.

"Isabella!" he gasped, standing before me clad in the black suit and overcoat which suited him so well. Gloves covered his hands, unnecessary except for camouflage, and a scarf covered his Volturi crest. He rushed to me, and as I held out my arms to him, I was dimly aware of the arrival of Jane, Demetri and Felix. But then I was swept up in Aro's arms, and I closed my eyes as the pain inside me ebbed at his touch. I buried my face in his soft hair and coat, clinging to him as weak sobs shook my body and he soothingly murmured his love and his sadness for me and my loss into my ear.

I was mute, unable to speak from the sheer weight of the pressure inside of me, like a poisonous drug, a thousand times more painful than any venom, and when Aro drew back to look down into my eyes, I could only stare back.

"Amore mio, I am so sorry," he breathed. "Please do not ever do this again! I was out of my mind with worry."

Again guilt pricked me, and I felt the shaking grow stronger. "Aro…he's dead. He's dead," I whispered, my voice sounding harsh and almost strained even, after my heartbroken scream.

"Isabella," he whispered my name, gently drawing my head back into the hollow where his shoulder met his neck and clutching me to him. I closed my eyes and clung to him, as he lifted me and cradled my unresponsive limbs in his arms. Wordlessly, he turned and began to walk back down the mountain, while I silently burrowed deeper into his strength and his warmth, the pain held at bay for now by the arms carrying me so effortlessly, our Guard at our side.


I didn't open my eyes when we returned to Volterra. I was dimly aware of the change of light that pierced my eyelids, as we entered the underground parking lot where the coven's vehicles were kept. Aro hadn't let me go since we got off the Alps, and I was in no mood or shape to let him go either. Our guard surrounded us, as if trying to physically shield me from any more grief.

I heard voices, concerned, distressed, come rushing towards us as we entered the atrium. An instinct, a need to appear strong, re-awoke in me, and I opened my eyes determinedly. No matter how pervasive my grief, I couldn't let them see me like this.

Didyme, Marcus, Dora and their personal Guards all awaited us, crowding us in a semi-circle, as Aro walked, stride unbroken, into their midst.

"Aro! Oh thank the Gods," Didyme breathed, when she saw me, the raven-haired beauty clinging to her husband's hands. She rushed to me, falling into step with Aro and taking my hand. "Is she hurt?"

"I'm alright, Didyme," I breathed quietly, squeezing her hand once. Her lovely face relaxed, and her crimson eyes held mine lovingly, as Dora came closer too.

"We were so worried, Bella," the golden-haired vampire murmured. I closed my eyes again, knowing what would be coming next.

"Sisters, excuse us," Aro cut across the oncoming wave of condolences and sympathy, with a glance at Marcus. "Bella needs peace."

Dora and Didyme stepped away respectfully, but I could feel their pitying gazes following us out of the chamber. As Aro walked towards our rooms, I just let myself sink deeper into his arms.

"You have to tell me your secret one day," I muttered, as we entered our rooms, the high, cavernous ceiling meeting my eye as he lowered me onto our bed, making sure to lean my head against a pillow. "Unless you can actually read my mind and just haven't told me?"

Aro chuckled, before pressing a kiss to my forehead. "I do have a secret. It's called marriage," he replied, and I rolled my eyes. The levity disappeared from his face, as he laid down beside me, rolling me over onto my side so I faced him. "I am so sorry, amore mio."

I lowered my eyes, unable to hold his gaze, full of pity and compassion, not an emotion I saw often in my husband's eyes. "He died in a car crash…" I breathed, that sharp ache coming back to life inside me with a vengeance.

"Didyme told me. You don't have to speak of it if you don't want to, Bella," he stroked my cheek, tucking a strand of damp hair back from my face. It had become wet from where I had lain down in the snow.

"I need to," I murmured. "He died in a car crash, Aro, thinking his only daughter didn't care about him. That's what he said, the last time I spoke to him, when he wanted me to come to his wedding. I should-"

"Bella, enough of this. Your father knew you loved him. I didn't need to read his mind to know that. Words spoken in anger never hold true for long," he told me firmly, holding me closer.

"I have to go back," I continued. I felt Aro still beside me, and I raised my head determinedly. "I must, Aro. I missed the last few years of his life. I won't miss my father's funeral."

"Isabella, it is too dangerous. Have you not considered the possibility that someone might discover what you are? You are too changed," he replied calmly, but I could see the alarm underneath his cool mask. "You were not the first mortal too perceptive for their own good, and you shall not be the last."

I understood his point. I hadn't aged, and what was more, my appearance had changed enough from my human form that someone clever enough would be able to see the change, the change from imperfect mortal to a perfect immortal. Like I had.

"I'll say I had cosmetic surgery or something," I replied. "I don't know, Aro. Most of my old classmates have moved away, and if necessary I'll only stay one night. The town probably thinks I'm a cold-hearted bitch, so it won't raise eyebrows."

"Isabella, you know as well as I that it will not be as simple as that. You are your father's only heir. The legal requirements alone will keep you there for some weeks, if not months," Aro continued with a narrow glare at me. Of course I hadn't forgotten that.

"I don't care about any inheritance. I'll give anything he's left me to charity. I'll sell the house, I just…I cannot ignore this, Aro. I know the choice I made, but he's my father. I owe this to him," I breathed urgently, sitting up and looking down on my husband, still reclining languidly on our bed. Now I had a goal fixed in my mind, the pressure and the disorientation had eased. I wasn't free of it, but I knew what I had to do and I was determined.

Aro shook his head at me fondly, and I tensed. "And there's not a damn thing I can do or say to stop you, is there?" he asked, and I shook my head, relaxing. He knew me too well to think I wouldn't do this, not when I was so convinced it was the right thing to do, because he forbade me. "I cannot come with you. There is too great a risk I will be recognised, and my presence in your company will be seen as inappropriate, no doubt. Please take a member of the Guard with you."

"Only as far as Seattle. I know the Cullens have moved on, but I won't have blood drinkers too near the town. I'll come and go from Seattle as I need to," I bargained. He sighed but inclined his head.

"Demetri and Felix. No more, no less," he retorted, and I exhaled, but gave in. If this meant the least amount of friction between us, if it meant his quasi-possessive, obsessive need to protect me was assuaged, then I'd take a few bodyguards.

"Deal," I snapped out, and he shook his head in familiar exasperation.

"You drive a hard bargain, amore mio," he sighed, holding out his arm. I gladly laid back down beside him, curling into his side and resting my head above his long silent heart. His fingers carded through my hair, caressing and playing idly. "Clearly I am a bad influence."

"Darling, you don't bargain, you steamroller and dictate," I snorted half-heartedly. "Marcus is the diplomat here. And where did you learn that 'damn thing I can do or say'?"

"Must be the influence of my American bride," he quipped, and a choked laugh escaped. Laughing, smiling, it felt wrong after the day's news. At the thought, the sobs welled up again but I held them in. Aro held me closer, as I cried silently into his jacket, saying nothing but the hand in my hair telling me so much more.


The next morning I was on my way to back to Forks.

My cell had been smashed when I dropped it, and I had been too distraught to recall the number on the screen. I'd brought my laptop with me, but hadn't yet found the courage to turn it on for the first time in months.

Felix and Demetri were silent, understanding, guardians at my shoulder as we made our way through SeaTac airport. We made our way to one of the Volturi safe houses in Seattle, where I changed, slipping into less expensive clothing and leaving off my pendant.

The sky outside was grey, the sun obscured so I ventured outside onto the bustling streets without a hood or a coat. I'd chosen ankle boots, skinny jeans and a black blouse and belt. I didn't want to look too changed, beyond the obvious. I had never been into fashion when I was mortal, and despite living in a country famous for it, I didn't want to look too couture. Aro and Dora always said I should dress as my station in life dictated, and after I'd stopped laughing about how serious and pompous that statement had sounded, I had given in and started dressing smartly.

It was a relief to slide back into jeans. I had grown accustomed to the flowing gowns and tailored suits that came with the territory, of being Aro's wife, but I would always be a jeans and sneakers girl at heart.

I had relinquished my fashion sense, but as the memory of Caius' disgusted face when I announced my departure flashed across my mind, my freedom and independence was where I drew the line.

A rental car had been arranged and it was waiting for me in the underground parking lot. The sleek midnight black Jaguar sat in its space, gleaming in the dim overhead lighting.

As I slid inside the cool interior, I mentally debated whether to go to the attorneys first, or to the hospital. It was barely 24 hours since I had spoken with Doctor Grant, my father's body would still be in the hospital chapel. I needed to see him.

The legal headache would have to wait.

Resolved, I started the car, the rhythmic purr of the engine soothing, as I prepared to return to my old home.


The foyer of Forks General was the same as I last remembered it; the day I was discharged after Damon attacked and nearly killed me.

The same blandly painted walls with its obnoxiously cheery and bright art, and the smiling clerk at the desk.

She faltered slightly when she saw me, and a part of me laughed internally. The scent of human blood was overwhelming, and I made sure to breathe only shallowly as I strode towards the reception desk, the hustle and bustle of the ER nearby almost painful to my senses.

"Isabella Swan. I'm here to see Doctor Grant," I said firmly, as I reached the desk. The clerk, short and dark-haired with a smidgen too much makeup, gaped up at me, before blinking.

"Do you have an appointment?" she asked, in a girly, high-pitched voice that was almost irritatingly grating. She leaned across the desk, and I caught the full force of her perfume, and restrained the urge to flinch. She was clearly hoping to impress someone.

"This is a personal matter, not medical. My father was admitted before his death here. Chief Swan. I suggest you look it up and get the good doctor down here," I murmured lowly, eying her narrowly until she gulped and turned to her computer.

"Bella? Bella Swan?" a familiar voice asked, and I turned with sudden dread to find my old school friend Angela, dressed in fatigues and holding a clipboard, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and her glasses slightly askew, studying me with a confused grin. "Is that really you?"

"Angela!" I gasped, as she threw herself into my arms. "It's great to see you!"

The scent of her blood hit me full force, and I flinched inwardly. Holding my breath, I hugged her back lightly.

"God you're as hard as rock. Been working out, over in sunny Italy?" she asked as we parted, and I nodded noncommittally. The sunny smile dropped from her face, as her eyes turned sad. "I'm so sorry, Bella."

The pressure welled up inside me again, as I looked away. "I need to see Doctor Grant."

"And I'd imagine you want to see Amelia," Angela nodded. My head whipped around so quickly I was half-surprised it didn't come off.

"Who?" I breathed, frowning. Angela's pretty, tired face contorted into a confused frown, matching my own.

"Y-you don't know? I thought the Chief had-" she babbled, but I grabbed her gesticulating hand, as I suddenly found it hard to breathe, everything, bloodlust included, faded to a dull roaring sensation in every particle of my being.

"Angela, who is Amelia?" I asked, trying to keep myself as calm as possible. The pressure built up, joined by a whole gamut of new feelings, and I felt like I wanted to explode. I wanted to run, to scream, to lash out, but I couldn't. I was paralysed.

"Bella, Amelia is Charlie and Sue's one-year old daughter. Your half-sister."