Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.

A/N You guys have been so good to me, that I promise 2 (that's right 2!) new chapters this weekend! It's also your Easter present! I would give you virtual chocolate eggs if I could, but instead I'll just send my love and the next 2 chapters. The end is nearing!

Chapter 21

Good

Bella

I can't run a country. I can't run a country. I can't run a country. What is wrong with my father? Doesn't he know that I was raised like a peasant? I don't know the first thing about being a ruler! The only thing I know is what not to do. Voltera has certainly shown me that. I thought. I decided to distract myself with taking care of Edward… again. It seemed my father was avoiding me, or more specifically avoiding a conversation alone with me about becoming Queen. I'm not even married, my internal rant continued. Not even Jacob and the people so dedicated to Forks would accept an unmarried 18 year old queen! My monologue complained. I couldn't eat, sleep or even breathe. My appetite was gone at the thought of trying to rule (which I couldn't stop thinking about). Every night I dreamed of a different tragedy crushing my country. War, poverty, fire, drought, famine, all eventually ended in the death of the people I was bound to protect.

I entered the room, and found Edward sitting with his empty lunch tray sitting in his lap, and a book in his hand. When he heard me come in, he lifted his eyes from the book, and stared piercingly at me. I ducked my head and blushed as I picked up the tray. Just before I turned away, he grabbed my wrist, careful not to pull. I looked up, and stared right into his green eyes. I guess this was exactly the distraction I was looking for. I couldn't remember my name, never mind any problems I might have.

"Wait, Bella," he said, softly. "Why are you being so cold? Why won't you talk to me?" he asked. He looked crushed, and guilt washed through me. Then from nowhere, anger emerged. Why should I feel guilty? I didn't do anything! No one had any right to bother me with anything right now. I had enough to worry about.

I tried to keep my voice calm as I spoke. It was only the lack of sleep making me so irritable, and Edward didn't deserve my wrath. He didn't really do anything. "Edward, I'm not being cold, or aloof, and I'm not ignoring you. I'm thinking. All the time, I'm thinking. I… I've just found my father. I just found out my mother is dead. I just found out I may be running a country very soon. I'm terrified that I won't be able to do it. My father is still really sick from their poor treatment of him… I…. I… I…" I spat out all of my fears. Hot tears burned winding paths over my cheeks.

"Oh Bella!" Edward said surprised, and concerned. He tugged on my wrist, and pulled me onto the bed. I abandoned the tray. I awkwardly cuddled up to him. He remained under the covers, while I stayed on top, but it was enough to feel his warmth, and his arms around me. I expected him to say something like "it's going to be okay" or "you're being to hard on yourself" maybe even "cross that bridge when you come to it." Those were the kinds of things people had been telling me for weeks. I was sick of those pep-talks. Edward didn't say any of those. He held me, rubbing comforting circles on my back. Even when I stopped crying, he still didn't let me go. Finally, he said "I'll help you."

I turned my head to see him looking down at me. "You will?" I asked; hope finally bubbled in my chest.

"Of course, Bella, I've had to deal with all those scary thoughts. I had more time to plan, and get prepared than you, but I know that panicky 'how can I run a country' feeling. Carlisle taught me everything a ruler needs to be effective and help his… or her people, and I'll teach you," he said.

"But why?" I asked before I could stop myself, and once it was out there I didn't even want to take it back. I wanted to know why. He chuckled a little, and though no one else would have noticed I heard the edge in his laughter.

"I know, I haven't acted like it, but I really do…" he started, then paused. Finally with a heavy sigh he continued "care about you." I wondered if he didn't like admitting it, or just was worried about giving me the wrong impression again. My mood sank. Here I was, having a lovely delusion about him helping me survive this, and maybe falling in love meanwhile, and he had to ruin it! Oh well, it's probably for the best.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

"You're welcome," he answered, seeming to be caught in his own thoughts now. "You can ask your father, too. He was a very good leader in his day, and many of the principles are the same, even if it has been a few years. It's not like people change that much, not really."

"How would you know my father was a good leader?" I asked.

"Oh, I had to read about him a lot. I had to read about just about every leader this world has ever seen. King Charles Swan the Great of Forks. Born…" he began to recite.

"Was he really great?" I asked. He laughed, this time relaxed and pleased, not tight and nervous.

"The Greatest," he affirmed.

"And me… what do you think I will be?" I asked, worriedly. Edward knew so much. He would know if there was hope for me or not.

"Queen Isabella Marie Swan, the…" he began in a very regal voice. "Clumsy," he laughed. I smacked his chest. "Ouch! Okay, okay… how about Queen Isabella Marie Swan, the… stubborn!" he joked.

"Be serious!" I complained.

"Alright, alright, I know just what you'll be. Queen Isabella Marie… the Good," he said. He looked strangely satisfied by the name.

"Good?" I asked, feeling doubt. What was good compared to great?

"Yes, good. Most people can be good or nice or great. There is a very small group people who are great. And then there is a very, very small group of people, who are simply, purely, entirely good," he explain. "You are good, Bella," he smiled. I felt warmth bloom and fill my chest.

"You really think so?" I asked. I might have wanted to hear it one more time.

"Yes, I really do," he smiled, and I smiled back. There was a pause where I began to wonder.

"Edward? Do good people make good rulers?" I asked. He hesitated. "Don't lie," I added.

He sighed. "It depends. It's easier to be great, because you only think of the best thing for your people. To be good you have to balance, but people respect good, even if it doesn't always work out for the best," he answered.

"Edward?"

"Yes?"

"I'm just so tired."

"So sleep."

"I'll have nightmares."

"Try?"

"Okay."

Almost immediately I began to drift off. Somewhere in that half-awake, half-asleep world I felt a pressure on the top of my head, and someone murmured in the most beautiful, soothing voice "Sleep, love." And I did sleep, a perfect dream-less sleep for the first time since the meeting where Carlisle officially put me in charge of Forks, if we won the war. Edward's arms kept me grounded.