DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or Twilight – they belong to J. K. Rowling and Stephanie Meyer, respectively. Also, within this story I make use of a few small ideas from Supernatural, Vampire Diaries and Anita Blake – the credit for which goes to Erik Kripke (& Co.), L. J. Smith and Laurell K. Hamilton, respectively. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warnings: AU, Slash and Het pairings will feature in this story, but the main pairing will be Slash (that being Edward and Harry). For now there will be nothing graphic, but that might change later.
Author's Note: Hi all! Things have been pretty intense up to this point, but they are going to get even more intense going forward. As such, this felt like the perfect place to insert something of a filler. The events in this chapter are important, to a certain extent, but this is more of a breather.
Thank you to everyone reading this fic! Much appreciated. Once again, I hope you enjoy :)
/A\
I see your dirty face
High behind your collar
What is done in vain
Truth is hard to swallow
So you pray to God
To justify the way you live a lie…
And you take your time
And you do your crime
Well you made your bed
I'm in mine…
Now the son's disgraced
He who knew his father
When he cursed his name
Turned and chased the dollar
But it broke his heart
So he stuck his middle finger to the world…
And you take your time
And you stand in line
Well you'll get what's yours
I got mine
Because when I arrive
I, I'll bring the fire
Make you come alive
I can take you higher
What this is, forgot?
I must now remind you
Let it rock, let it rock, let it rock
And I wish I could be
As cruel as you
And I wish I could say
The things you do
But I can't and I won't live a lie
No, not this time
»Kevin Rudolph – Let It Rock«
/A\
Chapter Nine:
A single tall tower stood over a manor, all stone work, somewhere in the heart of Europe. It used to be a battlement, back when it was first constructed. Now, however, its primary function was as an astronomy tower, and also to view the sunrises and sunsets – which were rather spectacular this high up.
To one side of the tower, sprawling green hills stretched on for miles before ending at the edge of a great, if imposing, forest that consisted mostly of tall fir trees. To another side, as far as the eye could see, the ocean opened out. The setting sun cast a brilliant glow across its surface, causing it to shimmer in a most ethereal way, making one wonder if it something so stunning could be real. The sight truly was idyllic.
A waist high ledge went all the way around the tower's edge. Sitting upon this wall, facing the sea with a supremely serene countenance, was a seemingly middle-aged man. His golden brown hair, shoulder length, was tied back with a simple black satin ribbon. He was rather slim, though the way he held himself spoke of an inner strength. His eyes, of a light, sparkling blue color, were so familiar and beheld a more accurate indication of the man's age. It was in the man's eyes that one could see wisdom – wisdom that could only come from hard experiences over a long period of time.
"I cannot say that I am very surprised to see you, Albus," the man said calmly, never removing his gaze from the view.
It did not shock Albus in the least that he was, apparently, expected. He had known Nicholas Flamel for many centuries now. He knew his unflappable need for caution – bordering on paranoia – as well as his need for control – which came from his first, and foremost, nature as a scientist.
"Good evening, old friend," responded Albus, his tone soft and jovial, belying the true intention behind this particular 'visit'. But he would not think on that now; he would much rather enjoy a small chat with his long-time acquaintance.
"Friend?" asked Nicholas in a politely curious tone, as though the notion were somehow foreign to him, and unconsciously disputing Albus' thoughts. "Friend is a bit idealistic, don't you think, Albus?"
"Perhaps," Albus answered lightly, understanding and admiring the other man's rescinding of their previous, amicable association. "I do respect you, though, Nicholas. I always have."
"Ah, but friendship is hardly a prerequisite for respect, is it?" said the brunet, would-be good humor lacing his voice. "One does not even have to like another in order to respect him or her."
"True enough," said the Ancient in return, nodding his acquiescence. "I cannot bring myself to see you in any other way, however, dear Nicholas. If it were not for you, after all, I would not even be here."
"Indeed," replied Nicholas in a darkly amused undertone. He turned around then, sliding off the ledge and facing Albus fully. His expression was still quite serene, that of a rare and lucky man who knew inner peace. There was a hard glint in his gaze, however.
"Are you going to kill me now, Albus?" he asked, rather forthright. His genial tone contradicted his query, making the situation seem very ironic, and almost surreal.
"No!" scoffed Albus, a pseudo-warm chuckle escaping him and a twinkle entering his crimson eyes. "Not just yet, Nicholas. These things have a certain order to them. If one wishes to acquire positive results, one must adhere to this order."
"And you are this 'one'?" enquired Nicholas, though his tone suggested that he already knew the answer.
"I am, yes," Albus answered, some pride in his voice now. "I am going to make history, Nicholas! I am going to change the world as it is known. It is what I have always dreamed of, even as a human."
"But at what cost, old friend?" the elder of the two asked, still civil, though a hard edge had crept into his voice now.
"No price is too high to pay," replied the Vampire firmly, brooking no argument. On this, Albus would not change his mind. "Not in this instance."
"That," Nicholas said, sounding more tired, and so much older than he looked, "is a matter of opinion."
"Good thing, then," responded Albus, his tone once again airy, "that I am not taking anyone else's opinion into account."
"Also a matter of opinion, I believe," Nicholas said, his demeanor more affable now, as well. "Shall we?"
Albus smiled. He had known that this endeavor would not have been an effort. Ignoring the little niggling feeling in the back of his mind, the one that said something was not quite right, the Vampire nodded.
"After you, Nicholas," said Albus, gesturing cordially for Nicholas to precede him. "After you."
A…A
Harry stood at the edge of a roped off square of land, situated towards the center of the field. It was slightly larger than a boxing ring, but served a similar purpose. Within this zone, sparring matches were held, most often in pairs, but sometimes in groups as well.
Currently, he was monitoring a sparring match between Bradford Yorkie and a newly healed Paul Hunt. Off to the side, a small group (with a mix of Quileute pack, Cullen and Forks Council members) stood by, awaiting their turn to join in. Not all of them would participate, naturally, as some of them (such as Eric Yorkie and Mike Newton) were better suited to tasks off the field.
Seeing as they had some time before the next full moon cycle, the time at which Harry and Hermione believed Dumbledore would next attack (when the Lycans were at full power again), many of these combat training sessions had been taking place. Wisely, though, they were not only using their time to spar, but also to interact with one another – the Cullens with the Council of Forks with the Quileute tribe, and interchanging among those three separate factions.
The point was not only to know each other better, and become familiar with everyone's roles and skills, but also to become one solid unit – at least as much as they could be. The coming war was so much bigger than they were, even put together, and the stakes so unbelievably high, that anything less may well spell their untimely end.
And so, as soon as they were well enough again, Jacob had quickly and efficiently filled his pack in on all they needed to know and they had all got to work. Considering the time and effort that Carlisle had put in to helping and healing them, the pack were not against strengthening their alliance with the Cullen family. This eased quite a bit of pressure; unnecessary rivalry and antagonism only created unnecessary tension. And the greater this tension was, the better the chances that they would all snap under it.
This was easily understood and everyone made a decidedly earnest effort to forge solid connections, if not true friendships. It would do; for their ultimate purpose, it would do.
Harry felt a presence come up beside him and turned to acknowledge this. Jasper, it turned out, had decided to join him where he stood. The soldier watched the sparring match for a few moments, his interest undeniable. Harry could almost see the empath's critiques on the proceedings. His lips twitched. It was good, familiar even, to have such experienced fighters involved. Harry found himself grateful.
"You mentioned, previously," said Jasper, breaking their silence, but not his gaze on the field, "that Mrs. Stanley is the weapons expert."
He paused and Harry confirmed his statement with a single nod.
"Why would we require a weapons specialist," Jasper continued, "if most human weaponry does not work effectively against many supernatural beings – especially Vampires?"
"We are looking to expand upon Hermione's idea of combining magic and technology," Harry answered, still closely observing the pseudo-match, but aware enough to accurately respond as well. "We believe we can do the same with magic and weapons. It would be different to the method we used with the technology, of course. With technology we were able to incorporate the machine's own processes in the development – make them work with the magic. With the weapons, on the other hand, we would have to imprint the specialized magic into whatever it is we use, as arms are completely dormant."
"Thus expanding the arms limitations," Jasper said, grasping Harry's explanations quickly and well enough, "and having them 'remember', so to say, that they can do more."
"Exactly," said Harry, turning to face the empath with a grim smile. "We are hoping to gain something of an upper hand with a specialized arsenal."
"Let's hope it works out," replied Jasper solemnly.
A…A
"Argh…!"
Bella groaned as she once again found herself flat on the ground. She was certain that her back was already riddled with a lovely patchwork of bruises, and she was even more certain that she'd be getting a whole lot more in the near future.
"Still so sure that you're confidence isn't misplaced?" she asked as she pulled herself up into a sitting position.
"Absolutely!" was Jessica's annoyingly enthusiastic response, her grin wide and unwavering as she held out her hand to help Bella to her feet. "Clumsiness can be cured! We just have to work at it and work at it, constantly – never giving in, never giving up! You can do this, Bella! Trust me, before you know it, you'll be rid of this tendency to kiss the floor."
Bella sent a semi-heated glare in Jessica's direction at that description, but breathed deeply and steadied herself for the next round of balance training – as they'd dubbed it. As soon as they were able, Jessica and Angela had begun her workout. If she was to claim her place as part of the Council of Forks, which she was now set on doing, she had many years to catch up on. Also, more currently, if she wished to be more than fodder when this war hit, then she had to learn to defend herself. As such, the first thing they decided to tackle was her innate clumsiness.
She wasn't as sure, though, that her lifelong gracelessness could be cured, but she did trust Jessica and Angela. She knew that if there was anyone who could help her, it was the two of them. For one, they had both already been through everything they were putting her through and, for another, they were extremely patient with her.
Not once had either Jessica or Angela made her feel inadequate, or as though they felt that they were wasting their time. In fact, it was Bella, herself, more often than not feeling as though she were the one squandering their time. They never hesitated to tell her different, however. Jessica and Angela made sure she knew that this was necessary and worthwhile; they wouldn't have bothered otherwise. It was for this reason that Bella could always make herself get up again, dust herself off and try harder.
"Catch, Bella," Angela called out suddenly, throwing a long, light wooden pole to her.
This was the apparatus she was made to use in order to help her better her balance. Bella would walk along a thick wooden plank, about four feet off the ground (not that high, she would admit, but it still hurt every time she managed to fall off), holding the wooden pole, horizontally, with both hands, arms outstretched – much like tightrope walkers.
Instinctively, Bella threw out her hands in order to catch the staff, but not really with any hope that she would. Many a times before, Angela or Jessica had done the same thing and she'd ended up being hit on the arm or shoulder or even her face (once), when she'd failed to grasp the pole in time.
She squeezed her eyes shut now, as an automatic reaction, expecting the same thing to happen. The blow never came, though.
Flexing her fingers, Bella felt the staff within both her hands and she slowly opened her eyes, confirming this with sight, as well. She'd caught it.
"I caught it!" she gasped out, astounded at herself, her shocked smile wide on her face.
She knew that this was a rather small, insignificant thing to get excited about – many children could have managed the same feat without any difficulty. But considering her coordination (or lack thereof) and clumsiness, Bella did indeed feel that this was a moment to remember. She could always laugh at her seemingly exaggerated reaction in hindsight. For now, however, she felt quite justified in her wonder.
"I caught it!" she exclaimed again, louder this time, and accompanied by Angela's and Jessica's laughter and joyous whoops on her behalf.
"Well done, Bella!" said Jessica, coming up to her and thumping her on her shoulder. "Now let's get you up on the beam and try to keep you there, shall we?"
"For at least five times across, consecutively," added Angela with a mirthful grin.
There was always something, Bella thought to herself – another step to take, something more to achieve. Success could never last too long.
Bella groaned again, climbing up on the plank as instructed.
Here we go again, she thought.
A…A
"Spar with me," Edward said suddenly, a beautiful, dangerous glint in his eyes.
"Edward!" responded Harry, an incredulous grin on his face. "I know you've begun to train again, but you must bear in mind that you have been out of practice for a very long time. One step at a time, my love."
"One cannot cross such a chasm in small steps, beautiful," Edward replied calmly, clearly unwilling to be deterred. "I must make one great leap, or I'll not make it."
For a long moment, Harry simply gazed at his Chosen, admiring his tenacity as well as his steadfast composure. A small crowd was beginning to form around the two of them, interested in watching such a match as much as they were in the result of it. Harry, and Edward, paid them no mind; they had eyes only for each other and the electricity between them positively crackled.
"Very well, Edward," Harry finally answered, facing his mate fully and taking on the proper defensive stance, watching as the Vampire did the same. "I shall indulge you."
Edward smirked, pleased. "Don't hold back."
Harry laughed out loud at that.
"You have not trained in any way for the past seventy-three years, soul," said Harry lightly, his eyes shining with warmth and adoration. "Of course I'm going to hold back."
Edward did not respond verbally, but did spare his beloved a wide, affectionate smile before he attacked.
They started off slowly, dodging and ducking around each other's advances, getting a feel of their opponent. Soon enough, however, the pace picked up and then steadily continued to accelerate. The attacks got more and more aggressive, the punches and kicks and flips executed with such speed, accuracy and skill that hardly anyone was left unimpressed – most especially by Edward, whom no one had expected such proficiency from, at least where combat was concerned.
It was clear to everyone, nonetheless, that Harry was, by far, the more exceptional of the two, considering his extensive training (and then some) – even if he made no use of his extra gifts, like magic. It was also rather apparent that the young being truly was going easier on Edward than he would have on any real foe. This only added to the awe he caused in those watching the display.
The fight came to an end when Harry perfectly performed triple roundhouse kicks (two with one foot on the ground, and one completely in the air). The moves were like something out of a brilliantly choreographed action movie and, judging by the smirk on Harry's face and the gleam in his eyes, this was done purely for the flash factor.
Undeniably, though, it was effective, sending Edward careening backwards. Amazingly, however, the Vampire did not crash into anything, managing to neatly flip himself over, mid-air, to land lightly on his feet, only sliding back about three feet or so.
"Not bad, love," said Harry, eyes shining from the feeling one can usually get from a good sparring session.
"Still not quite where I used to be, however," Edward responded, though not disenchanted in the least. In fact, the Vampire seemed rather excited to have the room to improve.
"Not quite," Harry agreed with a small shrug, "but you will definitely get there."
Edward spared his love no more than a single nod before he attacked again, with greater fervor.
He was back – and he was loving it.
A…A
"So…" said Bella slowly, coming to sit next to Edward where he had situated himself in order to better watch Harry and Jasper spar. "Are you bisexual?"
Edward chuckled heartily as Bella reddened. It seemed she had not meant to start the conversation that way, and had blurted out, unconsciously, the question she really wanted an answer to.
Edward gazed at her warmly, amused.
"I suppose you could see it that way," he answered gently, smiling kindly at the teenaged girl. "It is not a very accurate term in this case, however."
"Why is that?" asked Bella, still blushing, but more confident now that she was not overstepping any bounds.
"Such categories do not apply amongst the supernatural, Bella," the Vampire replied. "There is no straight, gay or bisexual; only one distinction matters, regarding mating, where we are concerned."
"And what distinction is that?"
"Bonded or not bonded," said Edward simply, before elaborating. "When we find our mate, our Chosen, our destined – whatever term you wish to use – they are exactly as they should be. Color, creed, race, gender – these things may have an effect in some way or another, but not where the love, or eventual love, is concerned. Gaps are bridged; whole chasms are closed. We accept and come to love our mates for exactly what and who they are. Considering the weight and value we place on our bonding, the little things tend not to matter so much. Obstacles can be overcome, especially together. This is why it is so very devastating to lose a mate, especially if the bond is complete."
"So, it's quite a simple thing, then?" Bella joked, while understanding that it was anything but. Edward thought it was probably easier for her to comprehend this, seeing as how Jacob had found his Chosen in her, as well as her close link to the Supernatural world.
"Many seem to believe so," countered the telepath with a nostalgic smile, remembering how he once thought that everything would just slot into place once he'd found his Chosen, like a puzzle that put itself together. He learned quickly that this was not the case. The more value something has, the more effort needs to be made to attain and then keep it. It was, in great part, the effort that made anything worth having valuable, after all.
"It is not easy, however," continued Edward pensively, "to not be bonded in our world. Aside from one's mate, one can find very little to hold on to, to hold dear and care for. Those that are not bonded tend not to have much to live for. And considering that we live, more often than not, for eternity, this creates quite a problem. It's different, of course, for those of us who live in close communities, or have managed to create and maintain families such as Carlisle has. We have found our own means of belonging. Thus, we have an easier, or less despondent, time here."
Bella nodded her understanding. She may not be able to fully appreciate what Edward was telling her, but he knew she got the gist of it, at least.
"So, you and Harry," she said, taking a deep breath, gathering her courage to ask what she wanted to know. "When did you two bond? It just… it doesn't seem like it's a recent thing…."
"It isn't," replied Edward, a broad smile on his face that he would not have been able to hold back, even if he tried. "We began our bonding in the year of nineteen twenty-nine, going on nineteen thirty. We completed our bonding about three years later."
Bella's eyes widened slightly. Edward supposed she had been expecting a history between them, but did not fully comprehend it until then. A number of questions seemed to flit through her mind before she settled on one.
"What happened?" she whispered, astonished. Trust Bella to hit on the most poignant question, the Vampire thought fondly.
"A betrayal, unlike I have ever known," he answered softly, a far-off look in his eyes, his smile fading away.
Edward would not say more on the matter just then, and Bella understood, asking no more.
A…A
Hermione sat inside the gazebo, alone, watching the goings-on out on the field. To be truthful, however, she was not really seeing much, her mind being elsewhere.
It had been an entire day, she noted, since her mate had run off. Mate, thought Hermione, as a smile stretched on her face. The word still sent a delightful shiver down her spine, pooling warmly in her belly. For so long she had never even dared allow herself to hope – for was it not foolish, to hope for such happiness, to hope for infallible love, in a war-torn world (the only world she had ever really known)? And yet... here she was.
Of course, she would feel infinitely better if her mate were actually with her, Hermione thought to herself. And just then, as though summoned, the scent of her mate wafted over her. Her eyes fluttered shut as she took in the divine aroma, allowing it to warm her from the inside out.
She said nothing, though. Hermione had a feeling that her destined would prefer some semblance of control right then. If that meant initiating the conversation, then so be it.
"I think," began Leah Clearwater slowly, taking a seat next to Hermione without touching her, but not meeting her gaze, "that I should probably apologize. For running off earlier, I mean."
Hermione smiled a warm and genuine smile, gazing tenderly at her. "I understand. At least, I believe I do."
"Believe?" asked Leah, cocking her head to the side, still avoiding Hermione's eyes.
"I would, at some point," clarified the Vampire lightly, "like for you to be able to tell me about your reasons, about yourself entirely. But I can wait for you, Leah. I have no problems with that."
The female shifter was silent for a long while, just staring out over the field unseeingly.
"I was convinced that I would never find my Imprint," she then said, taking her time to explain, but doing so sincerely. "I believed that there was no one out there for me, but also that having anyone would be impossible. I mean, if the purpose of imprinting is to continue the shape-shifter line – what use am I?"
She paused for a moment, laughing humorlessly at her situation.
"And now that I find my Imprint," she continued, her tone biting in its carelessness, "not only do you turn out to be female, but you're also a Vampire! I am the ultimate cosmic joke, aren't I?"
This last question was asked softly, as though Leah were talking more to herself than to Hermione.
"I know I'm one of the abhorred leeches," said Hermione gently, her tone neither accusatory nor condemning, but holding only understanding, "but I can assure you, I really am not that bad."
Leah's eyes widened as she realized what she had just said, and so bluntly at that, about and to her own Imprint.
"Oh!" she blurted out, her eyes finally coming up to meet Hermione's, and holding all her guilt and penance. "No! I'm so sorry! I didn't… I wasn't… Oh!"
Hermione chuckled softly, clearly finding her mate endearing. Tentatively, she reached out and laid her hand upon the shifter's shoulder.
"It is all right," she assured Leah kindly, willing the young woman to hold her gaze. Once she was certain that her beautiful mate would not turn away, Hermione continued. "I was only teasing, I promise you. I would like, very much, if you would give me the chance to show you, though. I will all I can never to disappoint you, Leah. But I can appreciate how… unfair this must seem to you, and how difficult to accept."
Leah was emphatically shaking her head, even before the female Vampire had finished speaking.
"But that's just it!" the shifter blurted out, trying to clarify and convince in one go. "This isn't unfair! I wondered, for the longest time, why that was so. I fully expected to feel angry and… and wronged. And I just wasn't. Then I tried to get myself to adjust and I realized… I realized that there was nothing to adjust to! Everything felt as it should. I, finally, feel exactly as I should. No resentment, no anger, no spite – just… a kind of peace. I feel so free now!
"And when I could appreciate all of that, I didn't want to run anymore – at least, not in the opposite direction. I mean, I actually have you! And no matter how different this is to what I would have imagined, if I had given myself the chance to, that doesn't mean that I want to screw it up! I really don't! I would like for us to work, Hermione – no matter what it takes. I need this. I need you. I feel that much, at least, even if it isn't love just yet."
Hermione positively beamed.
"That's a better start than I could have hoped for," she said happily, smiling widely at her mate. "We'll go as slow as you need, Leah. I swear to you."
Leah could only return the smile in all its glory. Vampire or not, female or not, she was being given the rare and beautiful opportunity to bond – to be ungrateful now would be blasphemous.
A…A
"Boot camp!" Jessica yelled in her usually enthusiastic voice, even now at just shy of five in the morning.
Bella, who had just arrived at the field, flask of coffee in hand, dropped her kitbag incredulously.
"I'm sorry, what?" she asked, hoping fiercely that she'd misunderstood.
"Well, it won't really be like boot camp," admitted Jessica, walking over and, thankfully, toning down her crazy zest a bit. "But we will be doing boot camp drills."
"Boot camp drills," repeated Bella faintly, trying not too feel too much trepidation.
"Yep," said Jessica, unable to contain her excitement – for what exactly Bella had trouble understanding. "So finish up your coffee and get your butt out there!"
"Right," Bella muttered, though her friend didn't hear her; Jessica was already running off to the training area she and Angela had set up for her.
Sighing dejected, Bella finished up knowing that she could not stall much longer, and that it would be pointless to try. She wanted to train, she really did. And she wanted to learn as much as she could in the short time they had. She had just never fully appreciated how difficult it was going to be. Well, she knew better now, she thought as she shook her head at her own naivety.
"So, first things first," said Angela, not quite as peppy as Jessica, but still wide awake and gung-ho, "you need to warm up."
"Right, warm up," said Bella, feeling a little relieved – that is, until she saw Jessica. The girl had a smile on her face that instantly bled the brief feeling from her. Bella groaned softly.
"Chin up, Bell," said Angela, bumping her shoulder in encouragement. "We need to get your fitness up and boot camp drills, scary as they sound, are the best way of doing that."
Bella nodded. She understood; she even agreed. It was just painful work.
"Can't I just become a Vampire?" she asked jokingly. It was no secret how reluctant Bella was to work out.
"Oh, Bella," said Jessica in mock-sympathy. "You'd still be pretty useless in a fight, even as a Vamp."
"Newborns are loads stronger than any other Vampire, though," Bella argued, playing along. "I could get by on brute strength alone."
"Yes, and newborns are also loads more bloodthirsty than any other Vampire," said Angela patiently, as though re-explaining a simple rule to a child.
"Which means," continued Jessica, taking on the same tone, "that you won't be able to tell friend from foe – you'll just go where the blood is. And, quite frankly, I like my blood where it is."
Bella rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless. "Yes, yes, all right. I get it. No pain, no gain."
"Excellent," said Angela, clapping her hands together and signaling the start of the torture. "Now, once you've done your pre-workout stretches, for your warm ups you'll be doing jumping jacks and then jump rope."
"Okay," agreed Bella with a firm nod, willing herself to get into the right frame of mind. "I can do that."
Jessica and Angela moved back a few paces, giving her room to complete the stretching. As soon as she was done with that, Jessica spoke up.
"Okay," she said in full drill sergeant mode. "You'll do jumping jacks for a full minute, then you'll jump rope for another minute, then you'll repeat. So, in total, a four minute warm up. Ready?"
Bella nodded.
"Go for it, then," said Angela, blowing on a whistle to officially start her training.
At the end of the four minutes Bella's heart was beating so fast, it was as though it were trying to escape. She, ready to drop as she was, could sympathize. Angela handed her a bottle of water and a small towel to dry herself off.
"That was… really only… four… minutes?" asked Bella, panting from the exertion.
"And we're only just getting started," said Jessica with a grin. Bella glared.
"Next up," said Angela once Bella was breathing somewhat steadily once again, "H.I.I.T. – High Intensity Interval Training."
"Sounds brutal," muttered Bella.
"In the beginning," agreed Jessica, not willing to sugar-coat anything for her. "But like Eric once said – we'll make you a pro."
"Can't wait," replied the, already sore, teen in a half serious, half sarcastic tone.
"Right," said Angela, undeterred for even a moment. "For this segment, we've marked of a stretch of seventy-five yards here."
She walked over to the area she mentioned, knowing that Jessica and Bella followed.
"For the first interval," she continued, "you'll jog the stretch at a slow to moderate pace and then back at the same rate. For the second interval, you'll sprint the stretch and then back just as fast. You then repeat both intervals. Got it?"
"Run?" asked Bella, semi-fearfully. "I've only just managed to better my balance, you know?"
"Don't stress, Bella," said Jessica encouragingly. "You clumsiness is sorted. You can do this; don't believe otherwise."
Once again, Bella nodded. She knew she could do this; she was just stalling. Again.
"We're taking it a bit easy on you, Bella," said Angela, patting her on the back, "considering you've never trained before in your life. The reps of this part of drills usually total eight, not four."
Bella didn't think she felt too happy that she was so unfit she had to be eased into things, but on the other hand she was grateful. She would probably collapse if she pushed too hard, too fast.
As soon as Bella was at the marked starting point, Angela once again blew the whistle and she set off.
The jog was all right; the sprint was grueling; the repeats, however, were absolutely murderous. And she was far from done. The rest of the day was made up of push-ups, resistance training in the form of lightweight dumbbells, sit-ups, squats and a whole lot of repetitions.
Falling onto her back at the end of the day, Bella felt as though she'd happily never get up again. She was sweaty, exhausted and sore in places she didn't even know could be sore! And this was only her first day!
"Am I going to be doing this everyday?" she asked when she finally felt she could breath well enough to speak.
"Yep," said Jessica simply, she and Angela coming to sit down next to her.
"Shit!" Bella replied, though there was no feeling behind it – she was far too tired.
Jessica and Angela, both, began to laugh.
"Did you just swear, Bella?" asked Angela, amused.
"There's going to be a lot more considering," replied Bella, unfazed.
"We'll make a bad-ass fighter out of you yet, Bella Swan," Jessica said, clearly pleased.
"From tomorrow, Jess and I will be training with you," Angela then informed Bella. "So, at least you'll have company."
"Yes," was Bella's tired response. "I should not have to suffer alone."
Neither Angela nor Jessica would be suffering nearly as much as Bella, they all knew, but it went unsaid.
"When you're up to par," continued Jess, excitement creeping into her tone, "then we'll move on to the next step – fighting."
"What are you going to teach me?"
"Basic martial arts and street fighting," answered Angela. "There's no time to give a proper, formal education where martial arts is concerned. For now, we'll just show you how to hold your own."
"Go home, Bella," said Jessica then, getting up before helping her friend up. "Grab a hot shower and as much sleep as possible."
"Right," said Bella, dusting herself off, "because tomorrow it starts all over again."
"Got it in one," said Jessica.
Waving to her friends as she walked to her truck, Bella could feel every muscle in her body protesting its suffering, but at the same time she felt so empowered. She wasn't just sitting around waiting for a threat to find her; she wasn't doing nothing while others risked their necks for her. She was involved.
Finally, Bella was taking a proactive stand and she could not be happier. She would learn. She would fight if she had to. But she would not just wait around to die, like bait on a hook.
Determination spread through her with new fervor and, as she made the drive home, she knew that she would do all she could to not bring anyone else down. She had found what was worth fighting for. She belonged and she'd be damned if she let it go.
A…A
"I have a theory," Hermione suddenly stated.
"You always have a theory, Mia," said Harry, an affectionate smile lighting his features.
Hermione rolled her eyes, but did not deign to respond to her closest friend's teasing.
"It is about Edward and Bella," she continued.
As expected, this got Harry's attention. Edward and Bella, who were currently in the gazebo, as well, also perked at Hermione's declaration. They were all currently taking a short respite from the extensive training and strategizing, which had been taking place non-stop for days now.
A slight tension entered Harry now, but only Hermione and Edward knew him well enough to notice this. Indeed, Edward ran a comforting hand up and down Harry's back, attempting to release as much apprehension as he could. Harry had been approached by Edward, the day before, to have a conversation that he would not forget any time soon.
Edward had told him of his previous relationship with Bella, and what he had thought that relationship had meant.
This new awareness had hit Harry in a way that nothing had in a long time. To say that it had stung was an understatement. On an academic level, Harry knew that he had no right to feel upset at Edward, or even hurt at the news. His love had had no recollection of their relationship at all. He did not even remember that Harry existed. It was supremely unfair of him to be resentful of Edward's need to not be alone, and to try and find someone to give him companionship. All he strived for, after all, was his Chosen's happiness.
On a purely emotional level, however, he felt differently. He could not stop the pain he felt, so acutely, at the thought of Edward being with another. This hurt had lessened when he was firmly reassured, by his mate, that he had not consummated the relationship with Bella. In fact, he had been strongly against it, and the idea of turning her. This had appeased Harry, but only just. Physical relationship or not, Edward had given of himself emotionally; he had believed, for a time, that Bella was his mate. This was testament to how strongly the Vampire had felt for the girl. And, for the life of him, Harry could not understand why. Memories or no memories, such an intense feeling should not apply to anyone else if the being was already bonded – and he and Edward had gone so far as to complete their bond. How, then, could such a strong bond have formed between Edward and someone else?
He looked to Hermione, not breaking contact with Edward. It was a petty thing, perhaps, given that he and his mate were now reunited, but he could not deny himself the comfort given. He needed it.
"And what is this theory?" he asked, keeping his voice even.
"A donor bond," Hermione answered simply.
Edward frowned, probably wondering how that would apply; Bella looked confused, as she would not have heard of such a thing before; but Harry became pensive. If Hermione was correct, then this would explain everything that Edward had told him.
"Think about it," Hermione continued excitedly, as she always got when she pieced a puzzle together. "Edward reacted in extremes where Bella was concerned – when her safety was at stake. When you went to Italy, Edward, what was your reason for going? What were the exact words you used?"
Edward thought for a moment before answering. "I had thought: 'it was as if the very means of my survival had been taken away from me'."
"Exactly!" exclaimed Hermione, as though that had explained everything. "Do you see? 'The very means of my survival' – survival, Harry. What do Vampires survive on? Blood."
Harry was nodding now, a hesitant smile wanting to make its way onto his face, but not quite managing yet.
"But Edward's never drank my blood," said Bella, more confused than ever. "He said he'd lose control if he did."
"He would have, yes," agreed Hermione, but not put off in the least. "But this answer fits too perfectly. There has to have something, something you aren't considering."
"Edward?" asked Harry slowly, hopefully. "Have you ever had of Bella's blood?"
But Edward was already shaking his head, even though he would know the effect this would have on his love.
"I have deliberately always held myself back around Bella," he said, his tone laced with apology. "I knew I'd lose control, so I was always… so… careful…"
Edward's voice trailed off as his eyes widened slightly in remembrance, it seemed.
"Edward?" asked Harry immediately, his hope slowly knitting itself back together. "What is it?"
"James," said Edward softly, his mind in the past. "When James had Bella – he bit her. I had to suck the venom from her veins so that she wouldn't be turned."
Edward was excited by the time he'd explained this, his joyous gold eyes turned to his love's vibrant green ones.
"I drank Bella's blood then," he finished, almost breathless.
Not able to contain himself, Harry flew at Edward, encasing himself in his love's arms and treating him to a thoroughly satisfying kiss. Edward, it seemed, far from minded, deepening the sensation.
Hermione cleared her throat, more amused than anything. Harry and Edward reluctantly pulled apart.
"But what does that mean?" asked Bella, her puzzlement only increasing. "I don't... understand."
"The donor bond," answered Hermione, a compassionate smile on her face, "is one of the stronger bonds in our world. The only bonds that could be more powerful are two: the bond between Sire and Childe and, of course, the bond between mates. By drinking of your blood, however little it was, the donor bond was initiated."
"So..." Bella began slowly, attempting a nonchalant tone, but not quite managing it. "Edward would have felt like that about anyone he drank from?"
"No," replied Hermione, immediately understanding Bella's doubts. "Willingness, on the part of the would-be donor, is imperative in order for the bond to work. If it is attempted without consent, the bond would never come to be."
"What this particular bond," continued Harry, much more at ease now, "between you and Edward, helps to explain is the extreme nature of Edward's feelings towards you, someone who is not his true mate. You see, Bella, once a supernatural being is bonded, especially where the bond is complete, there is no way to feel that way about another ever again. We mate for life. And the feelings Edward described having for you were too similar to those of mates for me to be comfortable with."
Bella nodded, getting at least the gist of what Harry was saying, while Edward put his arm around his Chosen's waist in reassurrance and comfort.
"And is it normal for the feelings to be so alike?" asked the teenager, now more curious.
"Yes," responded Hermione with a smile. "As neither you nor Edward have much understanding, or knowledge, of the donor bond, it was perfectly natural for you to misinterpret it. If you had been raised in our world, you would have been taught how to properly appreciate and treat donor bonds. You would have been able to correctly recognize it for what it was."
Again, Bella nodded. "How do you know so much about this?" she asked. "I mean, I know you like to research and learn, but... it just seems to be more personal than that."
Hermione smirked at Bella's insight, an expression that was surprising only in that it suited her.
"It is," she agreed easily. "I used to be Harry's donor."
And as Hermione and Bella continued to speak, Harry became less and less interested in the conversation. He had received the explanation and affirmation that he had sought. Looking towards Edward, his Edward, he noted the same lack of interest that he felt. Tucking his face into the crook of Edward's neck, Harry spoke softly enough that he did not disturb the girls' talk.
"I am sorry if I overreacted, Edward," he said thoughtfully.
"You did not," Edward assured firmly, though just as softly. Harry smiled at that.
"I just abhor the thought," he explained nevertheless, "of you being anyone else's. Because you're not. You are mine."
"Only and always," agreed Edward, tightening his hold and breathing deeply, taking in Harry's scent.
"Only and always."
A…A
The Lycan and Vampire golems, about eight in total that Harry had conjured for a more practical demonstration, were menacing indeed. At present, they did no more than stand in a wide circle looking ferocious, though. They would do a lot more once the fight actually began. Edward and his mate were currently the only two on the field, in the very center of the circle the golems created. Unlike the other sparring matches, the area needed to be much larger for this particular fight.
Harry had created the golems for the express purpose of coaching those, firstly, who had never come across Lycans (and, therefore would not know the best way of killing them) and, secondly, to further develop the knowledge on how to fight Vampires – especially well trained Vampires. In the gazebo and just in front of it, all the fighters among them had gathered – the Quileute pack, the rest of the Cullen family, Peter and Bradford, Elliot Newton, and Angela and Jessica. They had also got Bella to be present because, while she was still only in her training stages, she needed to be aware of the threats they faced.
Edward had been requested to join him in the demonstration as he had already been through many practical and theoretical training sessions much like this. While the telepath had never had much experience with Lycans, apart from the day they ambushed him not so long previously, his training had been such that he could apply it easily no matter the creature he fought. The Vampire stood just behind his Chosen now, so that the floor, so to speak, was Harry's.
"All right," the young being began, his commanding presence ensuring that he captured and held all attention. "You have already been through the weapons training. We are hoping that this will provide us with an ample advantage, but, while this is important, we cannot rely solely on it to get us through. It is always vital that you be able to defend yourself, even destroy your opponent, without the aid of arms. For now, simply watch as Edward and I battle the golems – but pay careful attention. Once we are done, you will be paired off in two's and three's, taking on a golem or two of your own. The best way to learn is to practice. From there, we will deduce the areas of combat that need improvement. Are we clear?"
Nods and grunts of affirmation were given and Harry nodded in turn, readying himself for the fight and gesturing for Edward to do the same. And with a simple flick of his wrist, Harry activated the golems, making them seem more real than anyone really cared for. This was necessary, however, and no one could dispute that.
Immediately, the two of them were rushed from all sides. There was no hesitancy from any of the combatants, least of all Edward and Harry. They began to defend themselves with great fervor, but as soon as they were grounded enough, secure in their skills and their trust of one another, they took on the offensive.
Every punch, every kick, was expertly timed and accurate in its execution. They never seemed to over-extend themselves, though. They attacked when they needed to, but they blocked and ducked when that would be more efficient, as well. Neither Edward nor Harry was flamboyant in their assault, even though the footwork was flashy and the fighting impressive. This was, primarily, about survival – not for show. This could very easily be seen in the economy of their movements, which were so natural that they seemed to flow effortlessly.
Watching the fight from the outside, one would think that they were performing a dance, rather than heavy combat, switching partners now and then. While they were proficient in the combination of martial arts that they executed – with excellently executed kicking, punching, grappling, trapping, evading, flipping, rolling, throwing and tackling – it was fairly obvious that their success, when it came, was not mainly due to this. For the most part, all could see that Edward and Harry's triumph was due to their trust of one another.
They had been there for each other unfailingly, watching out for and helping each other, but also making it so that the other never had to lose focus on the fight at hand. Edward and Harry, both, seemed to know each other so well that they could predict each other's movements. They moved in time with each other, never once getting in each other's way. They were each skilled enough in their own right that they were never distracted; never having to look over their shoulders, keeping track of what the other was doing or not doing.
This came as a surprise to everyone watching the proceedings. For one, they had never seen combat quite like this before. The skill, the timing, the undeniable evidence of tremendous training – it was almost unbelievable. For another, while they had more or less expected such aptitude from Harry, to see Edward in such a light was astounding. This had been completely different to the time he had begun sparring with Harry. Edward had been more excitable then, but now was far more firmly in control. Where those sparring matches were more edgy and adrenaline-fueled, this fight had been more disciplined and goal-driven.
The fight had given credence to the comparison usually made between the telepath and a mountain lion on the hunt, while Harry seemed very like an avenging angel. Together, they had displayed a blazing grace and dangerous beauty as they fought. Their every movement had seemed instinctual, no thought required, nothing forced. All in all, watching Edward and Harry, together, appeared to have been a stunning sight to behold.
"Well, damn!" exclaimed Jessica once all the golems had faded away, dispelled as soon as the duo proved victorious.
"Bro!" boomed Emmett, jumping onto the field and making his way over to Edward and Harry. "Where the hell did that come from?"
Edward smirked at his sibling's enthusiasm. There was no denying how good he felt right at that moment, though. Letting go like that had felt truly freeing. It was as if, after so long of living some other, lesser life, he was finally real once again.
Looking over to his love, he saw a smirk plastered on his face as well. The telepath was not able to read his mind, true enough, but he knew Harry. He was certain that the glow exuding from his mate was pride – pride in him. The realization made him swell with happiness so profound he felt as though he'd be able to fly.
"The place where this all began," replied Edward, speaking the truth, but sobering the crowd as he did so. It was a blatant reminder to them all of why they were here, what they were trying to accomplish.
"Do we start now?" asked Jasper, naturally uncompromising in wishing to be as prepared as possible.
"Yes," was Harry's emphatic response. "We have no time to waste. For obvious reasons, we will be teaching anyone supernatural differently from anyone natural. The skills you bring to this fight are different; you will have to be able to utilize those to the fullest potential."
Everyone nodded their understanding, readying themselves for a tough, but necessary day of non-stop training.
"Right," Harry continued, walking amongst them. "Split into groups of two or three and, for the sake of solidarity, make sure that the groups are mixed – Vampires with shifters, shifters with humans, humans and Vampires, or all three. You will have to learn to better your own techniques, yes, but you will also need to be able to work together. We're going to tackle this all at once in the interest of time."
Without delay, the pairing began and, in less time than anyone would have thought possible, everyone was ready to begin.
"And without complaint, too," said Bella, a little surprised. "That's… impressive."
Jacob grinned at her affectionately. "We can do anything with a big or important enough incentive, Bells. You know that."
Bella smiled back. "Yeah, I know. It's just… nice to see."
"Awww," teased Emmett fondly. "We're one big, happy family now, Bella. Feel the love."
"Shut up, Emmett!" replied the teenager, a faint blush on her cheeks.
A few chuckles went through the group and Harry, Edward noted, allowed the release of tension for a bit. The telepath could understand this.
Soon, they might not have the time for even this much.
A…A
Harry, who had always felt safer at night, was beginning to love it even more. While he never really slept anymore, not since receiving his Inheritance, a certain respite came at this time due to others' need of slumber.
Tonight, however, was different. Energy crackled in the air and the atmosphere felt much warmer than it truly was.
Strong arms encircled Harry's waist, the hands taking full advantage of the fact that his torso was currently bare. Warm breath and soft lips ghosted across the skin of his neck, causing his breath to hitch.
"It occurs to me," whispered Edward against his ear, as he pulled Harry flush against his body, "that there is something else that in which I am out of practice."
"Is that right?" breathed out Harry, barely able to keep his voice steady. "Anything I can help you with?"
Edward's talented hands began moving – first up, brushing teasingly over his nipples, causing them to pull taut, before moving back down his sides, over his ribs, at a leisurely pace. They reached his waist once more, the Vampire's thumbs circling over his hipbones, then moved lower still, caressing his clothed thighs.
"You and only you," was Edward's husky response.
His tongue flicked out, licking a thin, burning stripe up the side of his neck, pausing at his pulse, suckling at it and making Harry moan in anticipation.
"Yes," Edward whispered, the need in his voice desperate already.
Fingers ghosted over Harry's crotch – not nearly enough pressure to satisfy, but just enough to ensure he felt it, yearned for it. He bit his lip, not yet willing to submit to his beautiful Chosen just yet, but could not stop the whimper that escaped him, his own need escalating.
His desire spiked, inexorably then. Edward rotated his hips slowly, making his delicious hardness known, pressing it into Harry's ass, demanding acknowledgement. Harry groaned, no longer even trying to stop his responses to the touch he'd craved for too long now. Unashamedly, he pushed his ass into Edward's groin, rubbing slowly, but applying more pressure with each stroke.
In the back of his mind, the miniscule part that could still think somewhat coherently (though it was getting smaller with each passing moment), Harry could not help but feel awe. It unequivocally amazed him, even though he's always known, how no amount of time could lessen, let alone erase, his addiction to his mate. Here he was, barely touched, and mind was no longer his own. His body was shaking uncontrollably; his throat was so tight he felt he could scarcely breathe; and he was hot – so unbelievably hot that he thought his heart, beating at double time, was even sweating.
Turning swiftly, but never breaking Edward's hold on him, Harry crashed his lips to his love's in a searing kiss. The kiss was rushed, sloppy, and their teeth clashed too often, but Harry could not care less. He needed this. Decades of unfulfilled craving was crashing down on him all at once, and he could hold back no longer – not when his drug of choice (the most potent kind of all) was right in front of him, tempting him, teasing him. He gave in; he submitted.
"Need you now," he panted out, unable to form whole sentences and not even caring to try. "Need you so bad, Ed-Edward."
The Vampire growled possessively, pulling him closer, holding him tighter, kissing him as though his life would end should he stop.
"Take me," Harry managed to get out, the only words that mattered really. His voice was raw with desire, yet he did not mind. In fact, he wanted Edward to hear it, to hear how much he still wanted him, hungered for him.
In what seemed like the blink of an eye, Harry was flat on his back on his bed, completely naked, with his legs spread wide open to receive his prize.
He stretched his arms behind him, taking hold of his headboard and allowed his beloved to control him, dominate him. With soft touches and sweet caresses, Edward used his hands, his lips and his tongue to positively worship Harry's body.
Soft grunts, groans, moans and the most breathtaking whimpers were the only sounds that filled the room. For that time, these were the only sounds that mattered, and Harry soaked it all up like it was to be his last – though he feverishly hoped that was not the case. Now that he had his love back, he would do everything in his power to make sure he never lost him again.
As his Chosen pushed gently into him, stretching him in the most delicious way, he felt truly whole again. Harry's very soul seemed set alight and his body responded to his Edward with almost violent fervor, meeting him thrust for thrust. At first, the set pace was torturously, wonderfully slow – as though Edward was rewiring himself to Harry, remembering, reliving. Steadily, their synchronized tempo increased and every stroke brought Harry closer and closer to the edge.
With a final shout of his Chosen's name, Harry reached his climax, a powerful release the likes of which he had never experienced before. It was like a maelstrom of sensation, of emotion, and he was at the very heart of it – him and Edward, both. He felt himself soaring, jumping from one ecstasy to the next, each greater than the last, until he thought it impossible to get any higher.
He felt untouchable.
Later that night, as he and Edward – his most cherished of all treasures – lay together in utter, impenetrable bliss, relishing each other's company, Harry felt that to lose this fight was no longer an option. They would win because they had to, because to have his time with his beloved Edward cut short again would be intolerable.
It was all or nothing. Harry chose all.
/A\
Author's Note: As ever, let me know what you all thought! Thank you :)