To See Red

"compromise is but the sacrifice of one right or good in the hope of retaining another--too often ending in the loss of both."

Tyron Edwards


All he can think… is that he somehow failed her.

"Bella," her name slips from his lips in an ode, and gods, does he miss her. Her sweet face, that little curl that always tickles her ear, the secrets in her smiles.

He looks like a prevailing Apollo as he stands on the edge of the hazardous cliff, watching the clouds race across the moon. Charlie does nothing to help his only daughter, only sits and waits. But what good is that? Are they not in the middle of a war? Are they not meant to fight for things like this, for their princess?

He sighs, feeling insignificant. If he were to go to her, to save her… but they are fruitless thoughts, ridiculous ones. What could he do in the face of England's great army? He thinks of Achilles, the one man wrecking ball, of Odysseus, of Romeo, and a blush blossoms on his cheeks in humiliation. He could never be as strong as the warrior, as clever as the king, as desperate as the lover.

Comparing himself to them makes him feel unworthy. But hasn't he always felt as if he didn't deserve Bella? Every kiss, every touch, and in the back of his mind it was always she can do better than me.

But at the same time, he doesn't want to just let her go. He doesn't want the English to have her, surely. He doesn't want to leave things the way they are—her not knowing his true feelings, and him not knowing hers. He can almost taste the resolve on his tongue, the sheer will for closure, or perhaps for something more?

"Jacob."

The youth sighs in irritation. He's tired of just talking, of the old men arguing without action.

"Charlie," he grunts, showing disrespect to his king, to his father's best friend as he's never done before. The graying man appears in his peripheral vision, standing a foot shorter than him, shoulder to shoulder.

"Look, kid," the king's gruff voice is some, small comfort, "I know what you're out here brooding about. And I know that you might think my priorities aren't exactly straight--."

But Jacob won't let him finish before he turns on the older man, furious eyes alight, "No. No, I don't think you're priorities are straight at all! Bella is your daughter, Charlie, you're only one! Don't you care at all? Don't you care at all if she dies for you and your futile cause?"

"Futile?" the whisper is harsh, cutting, and Charlie feels the slight deep in his bones, "Is that what you think, Jake? You think all this is for nothing? It's Bella I'm fighting for, Bella I'm struggling for! And she knows that. And she's fighting for it too."

"Char--."

"Bella wants to win this war as much as I do. Bella wants to live free as much as we all do."

"People make sacrifices in wartime, Jake. Bella's just so happens to be making the biggest one of all."

Herself.


Don't carry the world upon your shoulders

For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool

By making his world a little colder