Chapter IX: And You'll be Just a Man

"I am afraid I have some unfortunate news for you, my dear," Ántonia announced, as regal and ominous as ever.

"Ántonia, what is it?" All three of us were sitting in the central room that I had dubbed the "reading room," as reading was what we did in the room most of the time. I was looking through an ancient book of Russian poetry while Sasha was painting another portrait to add to his extensive oeuvre. This current portrait was small, only about two feet by two and a half feet. The paintings hung up throughout the castle were a much larger scale. I couldn't tell who the subject was just yet, but I saw him reading Grimm's Fairy Tales not too long ago. If I remembered correctly, that would mean it could be Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, Rapunzel, or Snow-White. It could also be the lesser-known Goose Girl, who was a princess whose throne was usurped. The false princess then forced the real princess to watch geese. It also included a talking horse head and kid named Conrad whose hat kept blowing away. Not quite as romantic a story.

"I never intended to spend so much time in Romania. You must be greatly exasperated by my behavior," she declared dramatically, bowing her head to me.

We had been in Romania for a month, while we spent only a few weeks at the other locales we visited. I had not been bored for a moment of it, not even now. Maybe I didn't meet an entire clan of supernatural people, but none of the time I spent here felt wasted.

"On the contrary, I think I've enjoyed Romania most of all," I assured the two European vampires. I peered over my book to take a quick look at both of them. Ántonia had a very proud and validated look on her face. Sasha was keeping his eyes on his canvas and attending to the auburn hair of his muse. He may have meant to be inconspicuous, but he didn't hide the smirk on his lips very well. I wanted to call him out on it so badly – ask him why my appreciation of Romania amused him so. It would be inappropriate in front of Ántonia. She was a mentor to me so I felt I should be somewhat careful of my behavior, so I held back on embarrassing him for the time being.

"This place, I've been so comfortable here. As if I was meant to be here. It feels like home," I confessed. There were parts of Romania that did remind me of my home in Forks. I felt safe, and I had many opportunities to learn, then there was the near-constant rain, and most importantly, I was surrounded by people I knew cared about me. However, I had a fantastic sense of ease here, which I did not feel in Forks, not since I was a small child. I actually felt, more than ever, that I was truly being myself here. My family loved me very much, but they concentrated so much on protecting me that they also sheltered me. They worried about my growth so intensely that they struggled with whether to treat me like a child or an adult. In combination with my stubbornness, it had been too much to take. With Ántonia, I was allowed freedoms I never had at home. I could spend my time as I pleased, I was trusted to protect myself and those around me, and the only expectation she had of me was to respect those around me – the same expectation that should be made of every person.

I couldn't be guaranteed these freedoms when I went back to my parents. I would have to earn their trust back before I could expect them to treat me as an adult. I hoped I would be able to bring back to Forks this open, honest person I had become with Ántonia and Sasha's help.

"This is the homeland of all your vampire ancestors, my dear. Romania calls to us," Ántonia informed me. "I know I promised you we would travel though India and China. However, I fear the Romanian sun may have sapped my adventurous spirit."

"Ántonia, you're homesick. That is nothing to apologize for."

"I feel I cannot leave again so soon. Perhaps we will travel again in the next millennia."

"I would like that. My home is always open to you." Well, I would leave the door open at least. As for the rest of my family, I couldn't say for sure.

"Mulţumire ţie. However, if you would like to continue the journey we began on I would greatly encourage you."

I glanced over at Sasha; his shiny blue eyes were still frozen on his canvas. His paintbrush was frozen in place as well. Even his mouth was stuck in a hard line. What was he waiting for? My response? I looked back to Ántonia and hoped she hadn't noticed the sharp emotional turn the room had taken.

"I still want to see those places, but I don't think my parents would approve of me traveling alone," I replied honestly. I couldn't do that to my parents. Perhaps a year ago I would have impulsively jumped at the opportunity to be completely on my own, but I now recognized to take such a risk would have been a bad decision that would panic and disappoint my parents were they to find out.

"Of course not, my dear. I would not dream of worrying your parents."

Did she really think my parents weren't worried right now? This woman was off in her own world.

"I would assign Sasha to go along with you. He has never left the country, either. He deserves some time away."

Sasha stood at his easel, paintbrush in hand, precisely like before, but now a look of heavy astonishment appeared on his face. He obviously was unaware of this plan. I almost giggled at his embarrassment. These two were so formal with one another that when they politely argued, it was like watching a play of manners by Oscar Wilde.

"Ántonia, you must not have thought this through," Sasha interrupted while setting his brush down and wiping the paint from his hands. Ántonia just smiled back at him expectantly. She was well prepared for his disagreement, having inevitably encountered his inflexibility many more times than I had.

"I have, very much so, Sasha. You have shown more strength and character than any vampire I have known. You would keep each other safe, you could easily keep yourself inconspicuous, and do not think I have not noticed the friendship you two have developed."

Her eyes darted back and forth between us. It was clear Ántonia had hoped for and partially forced our relationship – making herself scarce for most of the day and sending us off into the forest alone on a daily basis.

I blushed and hid my flushing face behind my book, but not before I caught Sasha awkwardly looking down at the floor. There wasn't really anything to be embarrassed about. We were just friends. The most intimate thing we had done together was hold hands, and that was more about assurance and establishing trust than anything else. Well, it would be, if I didn't factor in my obsession with the idea of touching him, which hadn't been drowned out as much as I expected it would. I had touched him, I understood why it bothered him, yet the thought was still buzzing in my head as I imagined the things I wanted to convince him to do. They were all such small and seemingly inconsequential things, but I couldn't help my desire for them. Touching his cheek to share my thoughts, holding hands as we walked through the woods, gentle tickling or pinching in jest, piggyback rides, running my fingers through his dark hair, wrapping my arms around his waist…or…I felt a second rush of heat on my face.

"My dear Sasha, you have never had a friend other than myself. I would not separate the two of you simply because I do not wish to travel any longer," Ántonia explained objectively.

I covered my mouth to stifle my snickering as Sasha's face grew even more apprehensive. He had a textbook case of agoraphobia, which wasn't anything to laugh at. I just knew convincing him to leave Romania would be near impossible.

"Have you considered if Nessie would even like my company?" he asked Ántonia in a less-than-genteel tone.

There was an interesting question. I'd only spent every day of the past month with him and now he's concerned about whether or not he's being too clingy?

"Of course she would. Now please stop being obstinate and accept my offer," Ántonia stated as her final command. She was a princess; she didn't need logic.

I could tell Sasha was poised to continue the dispute, but I decided to interrupt it instead. "With all due respect, Ántonia, I believe I may be feeling the same homesickness you have." I did miss them, my parents, my grandparents, my aunts and uncles. Of course I missed them. I loved them very much and I hated hurting them. Did I have an excuse for not calling? For not writing? Probably not. I was so angry after I left. I just wanted some peace of mind. Not to mention, I knew my family well. A call or a letter could have been traced. I couldn't give them any reason to look for me; it was too risky for everyone involved.

I tugged the damaged photograph out of my pocket and held it in my fist. The intersecting point of two creases had worn a hole in the center of the photograph where I was posed in between my parents. The hole was very near the center of my chest. The symbolism was not lost on me. Being separated from my family had left a hole in my heart. I couldn't imagine what it had done to my parents. It had been nearly a year since I'd left – almost my birthday once again. I'd done enough hurting. It was time to go home. Maybe the next course of my life wasn't explicitly clear as I'd hoped it would be after running away, but perhaps that was the point. Life, possibly mine in particular, has no clear path, just choices. I had chosen to leave home. Now, I was choosing to go back. I would be honest from now on. I would do things right, starting with rebuilding the relationships I left behind.

"I forget your human impatience, my dear. Of course you will return home. Give my regards to your parents."

I snickered through my nose softly. She'd never admit to an apology because she genuinely believed she was completely in the right to encourage me to leave without talking to my parents about it. Ántonia was lucky she had her stealth and could escape the wrath of my father's awful temper.

"Thank you for everything, Ántonia. You've changed my life."

"Yes, my dear, yes." Ántonia abruptly stood up and sauntered toward a shelf of books, appearing to be done with the conversation. Unable to touch or embrace her because I would risk giving her my ability, I nodded and started planning the note I would leave behind expressing the depth of my thankfulness for the incredible journey.

I pushed myself off the couch and headed toward my bedroom. I could hear Sasha scurrying behind me and whispering sternly in Ántonia's direction, "I will talk to you later."

Well, that wasn't very polite. Even they had their moments of rudeness.

It was a short walk to my bedroom and Sasha had already begun apologizing to me before I even reached the trunk I had been hauling around the world. Ántonia bought it for me in a posh boutique in São Paulo. For some reason, the people there loved the way she dressed. They just thought she was extremely wealthy and eccentric. She had paid for everything while I was with her. Using my own funds was once again a way to trace me. I'd asked her many times where her money came from, but she didn't once tell me. She did have more than a few one-of-a-kind ancient knick-knacks lying around.

"Nessie, do not pay any attention to Ántonia. She only wishes to tease me. However, thank you for sparing my feelings."

"What are you talking about?" I asked as I threw open the huge lid of trunk. Was this going to be too heavy to take on the plane?

"About having me as a traveling companion. The idea of it is understandably…impractical, for lack of a better word."

"Impractical?"

"Yes, I do not know much of the world. I would not be able to offer anything to the experience."

A quick slide show of images flashed through my mind as I imagined taking Sasha on world-wide tour. I would take him to all the places his beloved authors described: the English countryside of Jane Austen or the dark, snowy streets of Leo Tolstoy or the bright, sandy Greek beaches of Homer. I could imagine his face when he saw the Eiffel Tower for the first time or the Taj Mahal or even a proper skyscraper in a city with more than 10,000 people. Everything would be brand new experience for him. To witness such a dramatic moment of enlightenment was something I didn't want to miss. Perhaps this was why Ántonia had been so excited to take me around the world

"Be that as it may, I think it's an excellent idea."

"What? Are you planning on going to India and China?" he asked, his face more incredulous than ever. I loved it when he looked at me that way. There were no words to describe how much I enjoyed surprising someone nearly 200 times my age, even if he was essentially an agoraphobic shut-in.

"Nope," I playfully responded.

"Then where?"

"I told you, I'm going home, and I'm taking you with me." I went to my wardrobe and started pulling clothes off the hangers. I fought the urge to just throw them in the trunk and began folding them properly. The prospect of being at home again in mere hours was beginning to excite me more and more. Sasha refused to look me in the eye and kept running his fingers over his forehead in frustration.

"Nessie…that is not a good idea," he muttered.

"Why not? It's time for you to see the world. Why not start with my world?"

"This…this does not seem…," he stammered.

"I'm not taking no for an answer." I was taking some cues from Ántonia.

"You are not listening to reason. It's been centuries since I have been around more than two vampires at one time…there are things you have not considered…you do not know…," he stuttered. Sasha had never spoken so clumsily to me. He was getting too worked up and it was making him visibly uncomfortable, but I was too stubborn to give up on this.

"We've been over this," I nearly shouted as I forcefully threw an unfolded sweater into my trunk. "Ántonia trusts you and I trust you." I moved around the small room, picking up the souvenirs I had purchased since staying in Romania. When I moved by Sasha to get to one of my nightstands he jumped back as quickly as he could to stand in the threshold so as to not be in my way. He must have felt he was getting too worked up as well if he was being exceptionally careful not to touch me. This angered me for a moment. One step forward, ten thousand steps back.

"Nessie, you are not thinking this through…," he said, his chastisement now sounding more like a plea.

I passed by him once again with the shot glass I bought in Uricani clenched in my hand. He continued talking but I stopped listening. I stopped my packing. I was staring at the portrait across from my bed. The woman with the nearly black eyes looking so distraught and sorrowful…I had seen her. She was the girl in town – the one with the basket of flowers. At least, this was some version of her.

"That's her," I said, interrupting Sasha's ramblings.

"What?"

"The girl in town. I knew I recognized her. She was in front of me the whole time.

Sasha sighed and leaned against the doorframe. He folded his arms to his chest and refused to look at me or the painting.

"I was hoping you would not notice," he whispered.

"So this is her?"

"The portrait would be her aunt or cousin, perhaps a hundred times over. They may not be related at all. The resemblance struck me."

"This is someone you knew? Your wife?" I don't know what made me say it. Your wife? I didn't even know if he had a wife when he was human, or while he was a vampire. He never mentioned it. He certainly could have had a wife as a human. He was twenty-two and the average life expectancy of that time probably wasn't over thirty-five. Yet, it had been the woman's pose which had led me to believe she lost a lover and not a brother or friend. It was in the way she stared at her left hand like it was missing a very important adornment.

"By modern definitions she would have been my fiancée. She was one of the few people who wanted peace as much I did. She may have been the only one who understood my reluctance to join the fight. Most people just saw me as a coward."

"What happened to her?"

Sasha pinched the bridge of his nose for a few seconds, and then promptly tucked his hands tightly under his arms. He was rapidly becoming closed off to me again and I needed to do something to stop it. I stepped forward so I was within inches of him and placed my hand against his cheek. It wasn't anything like my fantasy. He tensed up and looked entirely uncomfortable under my touch. I calmed myself by taking a few breaths and released a slow stream of peaceful thoughts. I mentally painted a perfect, pink Romanian sunset, a gentle misting of rain, and the quiet sounds of owls and crickets during a moonless evening. After a few seconds his face relaxed and he was brave enough to look at me again. I pulled my hand away, allowing him to focus.

"After I was turned, I constantly thought about changing her. I obsessed over it. It was the only thing I could think of. I thought it would be best for both of us. I did not think there was any other way I could be happy again, not without her. Of course, I struggled over how I would accomplish it. I would have had to trick a newborn and then make sure he did not kill her. I cannot tell you how many hours I spent attempting to figure out the details." His eyes darkened as the guilt began to overtake him. I desperately wanted to take his hand, but had no way to do it while he held them both against his chest.

"In the end, it did not matter," he continued. "I kept painting because I found it therapeutic, or at that time, distracting. While I was painting this, I recalled that her eyes were the most beautiful shade of green, but I felt that what I produced on the canvas was not quite right. Something about the color was wrong. I kept adding more and more paint, until her eyes became black and cold. It was then I realized the horrible error in my judgment. I was so disgusted with my selfishness I put it in this room." It was difficult to look at his sorrow-filled eyes, but after he finished speaking I didn't have to because he covered them with his hand.

"It wasn't such a horrible thing to wish for," I said softly.

"To wish this existence on any mortal is a sinful act," he said bitterly.

I didn't blame him for his opinion. His human life was very different life from mine. He grew up in an anti-vampire world filled with hate and prejudice and fear. And then, becoming the very thing his kind fought against had produced centuries of self-loathing and an even greater fear that he would use his ability to hurt others. To him, turning someone, even for the purest of reasons, sincerely was sinful.

"My father changed my mother. I'm grateful he did, otherwise she'd be dead."

Sasha's hand fell away and his eyes were immediately remorseful as he realized his insensitive blunder. "I am sorry, Nessie." The bitterness in his voice faded away as well. "I cannot make judgment on your parents. I only know my own heart and what it felt at the idea of hurting her." Of course, Sasha couldn't hurt someone if he tried. Why was he so afraid that he would?

I looked back to the woman in the picture, her eyes and silent tears finally making sense to me.

"I understand. She lived a happy life?"

"I tried to make sure she would have a life."

"How?"

"I used my ability," he said succinctly.

"Really?" I was honestly shocked that he used his ability on someone he loved, and that he admitted it to me so freely.

"She was distraught over my disappearance. She would have waited forever for me. I did not want that for her. So I made her forget me…forget the pain."

"That was a…impetuous thing to do," I stammered, remembering that he had also called me impetuous to explain the stupid things I had done in my past.

"I know. It is why I use my ability so rarely. It can have more repercussions than I can imagine."

"Like what?"

Sasha barely shook his head and looked away from me again. I stepped into the threshold so I was standing directly in front of him, face-to-face, chest-to-chest.

"What were the repercussions?" I demanded. "You accuse me of not having the information. What happened to her? What happened to your fiancée?

"When I was human, she was the most fiery and energetic person I knew. She loved being around people more than anything, and her greatest wish was to be a mother in a peaceful world. When I disappeared, everyone assumed I had died at the hands of a vampire. She would not accept what her family told her, and she decided to go out alone to find me. Had she continued her search, she most certainly would have been killed by a vampire as well. After I decided I would not turn her, I thought I would try to lessen her strife. I thought I had more control. I thought if I only took the pain away she would be fine. I took every memory of me so she would no longer feel the loss or have the compulsion to fight for a lost cause. By doing this, I did save her life, but I also took her spirit. She was never the same person. She became withdrawn, confused, and introverted. She separated herself from her family completely and refused to interact with anyone. She never found another person to love. She died alone and broken. I was a fool to think I could save anyone with my ability. This is why I cannot come with you. I refuse to take the risk."

"But your abilities have changed. You took part of Ántonia's memory and it didn't affect her personality, right?"

"Yes," he agreed reluctantly.

"So that proves you're in better control now, or maybe vampires can handle such a change better than humans. Sasha, you won't hurt me." In an impulsive movement, I took his one free hand in both of mine and held against my chest, above my heart. He flinched uneasily, his hands being the catalyst for his ability. I remained steady and undaunted, proving to him once again, and hopefully for the last time, that I believed in his control. He probably saw me as nothing but reckless and stupid. That may have been true, but he was anxious and terrified, and hopefully, somehow, these vices would balance each other out.

"What about your family?" he asked. He was beginning to run out of arguments.

"Do you think I would risk my family's safety by bringing someone dangerous home with me?"

"Being around vampires, being around anyone, increases the temptation to use one's abilities. I cannot risk using it on you or one of your family members."

"I told you, I trust you. You are the most mature, if not slightly boring, vampire I know." I tried very hard to smile, hoping he would laugh.

Instead of laughing he just whined at me. "Nessie…" It was actually a good sign. He was being worn down by my stubbornness.

"I want my family to meet you. I need you as a witness to prove I can do something on my own." Going home and saying I was all grown up was not going to be enough. They weren't going to trust me after the irresponsible, immature thing I had done. I needed some reinforcement.

"You know I believe you can do anything you wish," he said gently.

"I know. So far, you've been the only one, other than Ántonia. You trust me, right? You have got to learn to start trusting yourself. Can you handle being alone here for another 1200 years? No one is meant to be alone forever."

"My thirst…," he began, but then couldn't find any words to finish the thought.

"Yes, your thirst is not the most ideal situation, but maybe we can help. Maybe my grandfather can help. We have time to figure it out." I didn't comprehend the significance of the short sentence before I let it fall from my mouth. Sasha didn't need to feed again for another four years. I'd just implied that in four years he would still be in my life. It was hard to imagine him not being in my life. I felt my heart speed up at the thought of it.

"I do not want to hurt you," he whispered. He did something strange and rather wonderful then. His hand, which he held in a tight fist against my chest, slowly unfurled so his entire palm and each of his long fingers was splayed over my collar bone and part of my neck. The cold did not shock me, as it was something I was well-acquainted with, but the fact that he could easily feel my pulse and how it had quickened in the last few seconds added a flutter to my stomach.

"You won't," I whispered back. "The only thing that could hurt me right now is if you didn't come with me."

His eyes looked away from mine again as he considered his massive con list once more.

I sighed loudly and gently lessened my grip on him. What was I thinking, imagining piggyback rides or basically any kind of touching that didn't cause him immense amounts of stress?

Sasha rapidly blinked three or four times and then suddenly and unexpectedly smiled. And it wasn't just any smirk or grin; it was something I had never witnessed before. His smile was bright and full and completely wonderful; nearly as enamoring as his eyes. Something had lowered his inhibitions and caused him to be entirely happy. What could have caused such a sudden change in his demeanor? Certainly not my debating skills. It was then I realized that although I had let go of him, I let that flash of a piggyback ride go through my head before we were completely separated.

"Did you see…?" I started, but couldn't finish. My face went into an immediate state of flush. He was gracious enough to not give a response; he didn't even nod. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, not quite sure what I was sorry about.

"I have never been on a plane," he said, breaking the awkward tension I created.

"And you call me naïve."

End of Part II