Well, here we are again with ANOTHER update! I am having as much trouble believing this as you, trust me ;)

Firstly, thank you to everyone who voted for me in the first round of the Indies! Guns and Roses is through to the final round in the categories MOST ROMANTIC MOMENT and MOST ORIGINAL CHARACTER (seriously, where is that coming from? Do people mean Sister Martin? Marie? Confused :P) I really appreciate all the votes, and the final round voting opens the 22nd July... Just saying...

Secondly, and even more excitingly, this story now has 1,000 reviews!!! I know that, compared to many stories out there, it's not loads, but I am thrilled :D So thank you, thank you, THANK YOU to everyone who's ever reviewed! I love you, really I do.

WOO HOO!

*ahem* Anyway, this is another letters chapter, as some of you already know. This time, instead of subjecting you all to annoying type faces, I've put the sender at the beginning of the letter, just to make it all a bit easier. I think I'm going to go back and edit the other chapter so it's the same. One thing I would say is pay a little attention to the dates at the tops of the letters, and remember that it would have taken at least two weeks for a letter to go from France to America and vice versa. Some of them aren't sequential, which does make a difference.

Now, if I haven't confused everyone too much, here we go!

We Shall Keep The Faith

Miss Alice Masen
Forks
28th June 1918

My dear Jasper,

Bella is home! Oh, I cannot tell you how happy this makes me! I have missed her so much and now she is back, and a little piece of me is healed. When you and Edward return, I shall be complete again.

Bella's father is very ill, of course, but I'm sure he will get better. How could he not with such an attentive nurse as Bella looking after him? I go and sit with dear Charlie everyday, although I don't think he always realises I am there. Still, I know all will be well because Bella is here now! I was so relieved to see her, I tell you, Jasper – Father was even afraid Charlie might not last until she arrived. I am no fool, but I choose to forecast the best, because anything other is unthinkable for Bella, whom I love as a sister.

Speaking of which, have you heard the news? Bella and Edward are going to be married! Oh, this is so exciting! I just know they will be happy together, and I am so pleased for them. I told you it would happen eventually, even if they did take their time. That's just Edward's way; he's cautious by nature and over thinks everything. Trust me, I know these things.

Enough about me, though. How are you, Jasper? It's been so long since I've had a letter from you that I worry. You are alright, aren't you? You never tell me anything about the war, even though I've asked you before. Why won't you tell me what it's like to be a soldier? I tell you all about my life, after all. I long to hear about battles and what life is like for you, and I won't be content until I do. I understand that the war is not what propaganda tells us, but I'm not afraid of that. I want you to trust me as I trust you.

Please write to me soon, Jasper. I miss you and want to hear from you so badly. Please don't let me be anxious much longer.

Love,

Alice

Miss Isabella Swan
Forks
29th June 1918

Dearest Edward,

You see I am home safely and I write to you from the front room in my own father's house. The action is both comforting and unnerving, familiar and surreal. Everything is as it was and yet wholly different; perhaps it is I who have changed. I now feel I understand a little of what you experienced when you came home in February, how alien you must have felt, walking around the home and in clothes that no longer seemed your own. I am sure that your family, my neighbours, must see me for the imposter I am. Any day now, I expect them to chase me out of town with torches and pitchforks.

The good people of Forks, insular and introspective as it is, have no comprehension of what I have seen and been through, and I have no wish to enlighten them. They cannot hope to understand, and I feel ashamed that I was ever like them. The other day, Mrs Cope asked me if the war was like she'd seen in the pictures – she takes the coach every month into Port Angeles to their new theatre – and I almost burst into tears right before her. Like the pictures! How far she is from the truth! It took everything I had to smile politely and walk away when my mind was screaming to shake some sense into her.

These are the people that feed the myths and lies, Edward! Or, rather, they are the dumb vessels who happily swallow and spread the lies the authorities propagate. Even now, after all our soldiers have suffered, I see posters urging more young men to join up, to go to their deaths. It is intolerable that this should continue after all the loss of life our country has been forced to endure. I want to rail and shout for everyone to hear, so that they might stop this foul propaganda.

But, Edward, what would I say? Who would believe me if I told the truth: that I have seen men rendered blind and deaf, who have lost their nerve and their wits, men with no legs or arms; who would believe me if I said I'd held the hand of a boy no older than myself whose skin had been entirely peeled off by gas? No-one, I'd be prepared to wager a great deal on. Nobody wants to listen to the truth.

I'm sorry, Edward – I know I must sound bitter and self-righteous, but these things just make me so angry. The ignorance of some people astounds me, it really does! Forks, dear as it is to me, seems smaller than ever and I feel I am going mad seeing the same people and doing the same things everyday. My father needs me, of course, and I would not be anywhere but by his side while he is so ill, but other than the loving company of your family, the monotony of this small town routine is driving me to distraction.

Nursing Father occupies a lot of my time, but other than that, I am expected to sit in a ladylike manner and read or sew for a large portion of the day! I can't remember a time when I was so rested and yet so restless, and I cannot bear to be idle. I have sent away the housekeeper, so that I might have all the care of my father and the house, but even with that and knitting for the Red Cross, I barely fill my days from dawn till dusk.

I spend a great deal of time with Alice, which is wonderful, and your mother has me over for dinner almost every night; she has often invited me to stay with them, but I couldn't leave my father or allow anyone else the chief of his care. He is so very ill, you see, and it is both my duty and my wish to tend to him. No amount of persuasion on her part shall shift me; I stand firm.

Edward, strong as I might appear for your family's sake, I am afraid. I don't know what I should do if my father were to die of his illness, and, as his fever does not abate, the possibility remains. I long to see a little colour in his cheeks, to see his eyes bright with mirth instead of fever, to be able to promise him with sincerity that he will be well. No amount of medical training or field experience can prepare you for seeing someone you love suffer, and as such I feel completely under-qualified. His care is in my hands, and yet there is little I can do for him. If something should happen to him – well, frankly, I don't know what I should do.

Sometimes, when his temperature is highest, he lies deathly still, and other times he moans and speaks my mother's name. It takes me back to when we were nursing her, although I was too young to do much except hold her hand and make sure she was comfortable. The doctor wanted her to go into hospital several hours away, but my father would not hear of it. He said he would not have her spend her last weeks anywhere but in her own bed, and when she became too weak to sit up herself, he would hold her and feed her like a child. He loved her so much and I know how he misses her, even now.

I remember the day she died: your mother was there and you were waiting just outside, fidgeting worriedly, if I remember correctly. When she closed her eyes for the last time, my father collapsed in tears, but at first I did not cry. Instead, I took one last look at her dignified, beautiful sleeping face and then I walked out of the room, down the stairs and out of the house, looking through you as if you weren't there. I walked calmly through the streets and over the brook to the meadow, and you followed me, not saying a word. You found me, I remember, curled up behind the trunk of an old oak, and you sat next to me and held me all afternoon while I cried.

You were only thirteen years old and yet you seemed so much more adult that day. I needed you so much then, and I need you now, too. I need you to hold me and tell me it will all be alright, even if it won't. If I can't have my mother, or even my father, at least I have you and I thank the heavens for it. You are my shield, my very great reward, and I don't deserve you. I love you. Come back to me.

Bella

Private Masen
Amiens
30th June 1918

Bella,

I love you. I think that's all I'm sure of anymore. My mind is a jumble, turned upside down, and everything I thought I knew is gone. Almost everything. I love you, I know that. I just want to be at home with you, to wrap my arms around you and never let you go. Without you, I feel as if I am falling apart, and I hardly know what to do with myself. Everything I thought was certain, fixed, is now no longer so. I swear the picture of you behind my eyelids, your beautiful smile sending warmth seeping through me, is all that sustains me some days.

Ben is dead, Bella. He was killed in battle a few days ago and I feel I am lost. He was right next to me, one minute running with the rest of us, and the next lying in the mud with a bullet through his head. He was at my side, my brother-in-arms, and now he is gone. How is that even possible? I know I cannot process it. The world seems turned on its head, and I am swimming in a polluted sea of confusion and uncertainty, melodramatic as that sounds. I don't know where I am going anymore, but I only hope that one day soon I will arrive.

The only thing I'm sure of is that I need to see you, to feel you, and only then can I be myself again. Only then can I find what I lost: my friend, perhaps; my love, certainly; but more than that, my identity. You have been the keeper of my soul for some time – I need it back now, Bella. I need you, the other half of me. When I thought I would die, the shells dropping all around me, you were what I thought of. I wanted you to comfort me, so much, but you were far away. Too far away. Too far for me to bear much longer.

I think I'm going insane, Bella. I don't know who I am anymore. Ben is gone, and you are gone, and Emmett and I are left to pick up the pieces. Did I tell you I saw Jasper? We came across him during the bombing and he sheltered with us. He seemed well – a Lance-Corporal, you know. For all his pacifist principles, he's a born fighter and leader. It was good to see him and, though you may laugh at me, I know that he is a decent guy. He deserves Alice; I never thought I'd say that, but it's true. I want her to be happy, I really do. Send her my love, my sweet baby sister. God, I want to see her face right now, too.

I just wish I was home with you all. I hope your father is recovering. Write to me, Bella; I don't know what I shall do if I don't hear from you soon.

As always, yours,

Edward

Miss Isabella Swan
Forks
16th July 1918

Dearest Angela,

Sweetheart, I hardly know what to say to you. I wish I was there, so I could comfort you better, but as circumstances dictate differently, I must make what I can of a simple letter.

Words are inadequate to express how sad and sorry I am at Ben's death. When Edward first wrote to me of it, I was trapped in disbelief and declared it could not be true. He was the best of men, the kindest and gentlest, and it is unthinkable that he should be taken so young. I grieve with you as a sister, as well as a friend, and I wish that Marie were still with us to share in our sorrow.

The list of my deceased friends seems almost to grow daily and I cannot help but wonder who will be next. I live in fear, as I'm sure you know, that one day the news will be too much and my heart will break – I know the damage would be irreparable. I dare not hope yours is not so. I really would do anything for you and Ben to be together again.

I assure you that I am well, but nursing my own father is harder than anything I've done before. I hope you are keeping well and looking after yourself, and I know that Edward will come to see you as soon as he has leave.

Be strong, please, for me as well as yourself.

With love from,

Bella

Lance-Corporal Whitlock
Amiens
17th July 1918

Dearest Alice,

Please do not worry yourself unnecessarily – I am fine and as well as ever. I miss you, of course, and I hope the war is over soon so I can come back to Forks. You know, last week I got a letter from the children at the school, sending me their best wishes. It reminded me of what I've left behind, and coupled with your letter made me wish I were home more than ever.

I don't know if you've already heard this from Edward, but I came across him a couple of weeks ago when his regiment came under fire and we spent a good few hours together, catching up. He told me that Charlie had fallen ill and that Bella had returned to Forks, and I am very sorry to hear it. I wish old Charlie a speedy recovery, and Bella a speedy return to France. More people than Edward miss her here.

The only bright side I can see is that Charlie's illness has brought Bella back to you, at least for a while. I know you enjoy her company, and I certainly look forward to seeing her again. As for Edward, he's counting down the minutes until they're back together – only a few hours with him showed me that. He loves her more than he knows how to handle.

I'm sorry, Alice, I know you are strong and a grown woman, but I just can't give you all the blood-stained details of this conflict. I don't want to be condescending towards you – I would never do that – but I can't drag you into something I abhor like this. I do my duty and I don't complain, but I would never dream of involving you in it. I hope you can understand, if not now then in time.

It's a different world out here, Alice, and believe me when I say that you would be better off not knowing. For the record, I do trust you – I'd trust you with more than my life.

I'm afraid I've got to sign off now – I want to get this off to you tonight and I'm about to go on sentry duty. Take care of yourself, darling.

Yours,

Jasper

Miss Angela Weber
Corbie
2nd August 1918

Dear Bella,

I thank you for your kind words, and be reassured that I am well enough. I miss you so much; I know this would not be so hard if you were here, and I impatiently wait for you to send word that you are coming back to Corbie. The hospital has moved, of course – it could not stay with the hall so completely destroyed – but even having you in Amiens or somewhere else nearby wouldn't be so bad. At least we would be on the same continent. Please say you are returning to France soon.

I have found a job in the bakery in Corbie, and find work there as good as any. The pay is decent and the hours, although long, go by painlessly enough. It is a distraction, Bella, and I certainly need one else I sink too deeply into my mind. I must be careful not to do that anymore. My mother urges me to come home, but I would rather stay here for now. I am not yet ready to be drawn back into family life as I knew it, and I think that being away is good for me. I feel closer to him, somehow.

I will not patronise you in telling you that I miss him – Ben, that is – and that his loss is so very hard to bear. I'm sure you can imagine how I feel, and if you cannot then I hope you never do. No-one should feel pain like this, and I pray that you are never hurt as I am.

I hope with all my heart that you get your life together with Edward, as I was denied mine with Ben. You must be happy, for you deserve it more than anyone.

Au revoir, ma chérie.

Angela

Mrs Elizabeth Masen
Forks
1st July 1918

Dear Edward,

It's your mother here, darling. How are you? I hear from Bella that you've been very busy, but I suppose that's to be expected when you're fighting a war and everything. Just make sure you get plenty of rest and lots to eat, dear, won't you? I can't have my boy losing weight now. When you next get leave, I'll be sure to feed you up a bit.

I'm sure you've heard all about Charlie Swan, and it's a shame, I tell you. He's really not well, poor man, and although Bella nurses him wonderfully, he is not making the recovery we all hoped for. I do fear what will happen if he doesn't make it – dear Bella loves him so much and would be distraught, I know. We all do our best to make him comfortable, but he is weak and I do worry about him.

Bella hardly leaves his side, but Edward, you must urge her to come and stay with us. I've tried to persuade her but she is awfully stubborn; perhaps she would listen to you? She seems determined to be at his disposal twenty-four hours a day, even though I assure her the rest of us would happily take a turn. She is devoted to him, and it does her credit, but she has no concern for her own well-being. But if you will convince her then I shall be happy.

Your father wishes me to tell you that he caught a really big fish last week. I can't remember how big or what sort of fish it was, but next time you see him you must congratulate him. He is dreadfully pleased with himself, and I suppose that is all that matters. I think he uses fishing as a distraction a little, actually – he is terribly upset about Charlie being so ill and he misses you, of course. Still, he is very fond of sitting by the river with a pole in his hand, although I couldn't tell you why.

Now, Edward, you must pay attention. I have talked with Bella a great deal, and I can easily see how fond she is of you. She even once blushed when I brought you up, so I know that her feelings are genuine. You love her, don't you? Oh, I do wish you'd propose to her, and then I might have a daughter-in-law. It's really very thoughtless to go on in this way, you know, dear – please consider your parents! I would so much like for one of my children to marry, and I can think of no-one more deserving of you than Bella. She is such a sweet girl, so kind and clever, and I really think she could make you happy. Do hurry up so that I can get on with planning the wedding!

That's all for now, I think. Oh, wait, it was a trout that your father caught! No – maybe it wasn't. I've quite forgotten. Well, don't tell him and he shall never know.

Thinking of you, darling.

Love,

Mother

Private Masen
Amiens
22nd July 1918

Dear Mother,

You really mustn't worry so much – if I were unwell, I'm sure you would know about it by now. I have enough to eat and ample time for rest, so don't be alarmed. My situation really isn't that bad – others have it far worse, let me assure you.

I have heard about Mr Swan, and I am very concerned about him. Bella has told me how anxious she is, and I share in her worry. I'm glad you are there to help her, but remember that she is used to long hours and hard work and does not shy away from them. I assure you that it is entirely pointless for me to try to persuade her to do otherwise – you were sadly mistaken in thinking she might listen to me. She is, as you remarked, exceptionally stubborn.

I really wish you would stop putting pressure on Bella and me to do anything. Did I not already tell you that when I got engaged, you would be the first to hear? All in good time, Mother. We are far away from each other at the moment, and Bella is much too busy with Charlie to think of anything like marriage. Besides, I would need to ask Mr Swan's permission before anything could be made official. I promise you, however, that I love her very much, and have every intention of one day making her my wife. Will that satisfy you?

Must conclude now – writing paper's running out again!

Yours,

Edward

p.s. Please congratulate Father on his mammoth catch – whatever it was.

Private Masen
Amiens
24th July

Dear Angela,

It's hard for me to know what to write to you but I think you deserve to hear what happened. How it happened. I don't know what you've been told officially, but they never give you the whole story. I want to do just that.

You must understand that this is hard for me to talk about. He was my friend and I feel his loss acutely, so you'll forgive me if my account is brief. I promise, however, not to leave anything out.

Ben died in battle, in No Man's Land; I was by his side when it happened. We had been under shellfire the night before and Ben, Emmett and I sheltered together in our dugout. Jasper, a friend of Bella and myself, joined us with two of his men. I think you should know that Ben was happy then – he joked and laughed with us and we all talked a great deal. When Emmett made a ridiculous, if inappropriate, joke about you, Ben leapt up to defend your honour. He thought so very highly of you.

The shelling lasted till daybreak and then we prepared for the Germans to attack. We defended our line effectively and they began to retreat. That was when the order to follow and capture their trench was given. We all went over the top, Ben on my one side and Jasper on the other, and we chased after them.

Their answering machine guns started up as soon as we got closer and some men fell. Ben was hit, square in the forehead. He died instantly and can't have felt much pain. It was very quick. I saw him drop, but by the time I got to him, he was already dead. I am so sorry.

Ben was a good man: kind, brave and loyal to the end. He would do anything for his friends and for you. I know for a fact that he loved you very much. We all miss him here and he will not be forgotten.

Forgive me but I must conclude now. I am very sorry for your loss.

Sincerely,

Edward Masen

Miss Isabella Swan
Forks
18th July 1918

Private Masen,

God, Edward, I miss you, too! So much. You know that if I could be there with you, I would be, don't you? If my father didn't need me? He still does, though, but he is a little better than when I last wrote. His temperature has dropped, and yesterday we had an almost-normal conversation about the weather. I read to him a little, when he feels well enough, and we are progressing well with The Hound of the Baskervilles, although he has no taste for Shakespeare. He is much more coherent and mutters less in his sleep, and so I have needed less help from your mother.

She is so kind and insists on bringing round food when I do not eat with the family, but I cannot convince her that I am quite alright. I know she only means to help but it does grow wearying. Yet I cannot begrudge her as she has been so good to me – much more so than I deserve. I shall be proud to one day call her my mother, if that is still what you want. If that day ever comes, nothing would give me more pride and pleasure than to become your wife; I hope you know that.

Being back here, settling almost back into my old routine has made the events of the last few months seem impossible, and yet so much more real. Everyday I seem to move further from France, and though I know it all happened, part of me dismisses my memories as foolish imaginings. Did I really nurse men fresh from the battlefield, and watch as the hospital was destroyed by enemy fire?

It seems more like years than months ago, and yet I long to be back in Corbie. I am no longer suited to this sheltered life of acquaintances and genteel pursuits, and I crave some kind of activity or occupation. I want to be a working woman, not be content to sit at home like my mother and grandmother. I know you will support me in this and I look forward to the day when we can live together as equals. I hope it is not so very far away.

I ran into Jessica Stanley yesterday, and you would hardly recognise her! Gone are her days of flirtation and frilly frocks; she is now grown too big and too bitter for them. She and Tyler have been married for eight weeks, and he has already gone back to the front. Quite happily, I imagine, for Jessica is not her old cheery self. Do not laugh, for I mean it in all seriousness!

She invited me to her house for tea, and she complained the whole time of sore feet and exhaustion. It was only as I was getting up to leave that she enquired after you and my father, perhaps to get me to stay. She is clearly lonely and I feel sorry for her. Edward, if we ever have children, promise me that you won't stop loving me, even if I become cross and fat!

Jessica seems unhappy, and her mother fussing over her hardly eased her irritation. Not even the baby kicking inside her brought her any pleasure, although it amazed me. It kicked against my hand so hard that I decided it must be a boy, but when I told her this, she only scowled. I am not sure she wants this baby at all and I worry for both of them.

One thing I did realise from visiting Jessica is that her whole life is mapped out for her, here in Forks, and I don't want that for myself. I want to be free for a little, to travel and experience things before I settle down. I would like to go to Germany once the war is over, to see whether the enemy is really so different from us. To be honest, I don't see how they could be. And to England! I would so like to go to London, Edward!

I want to see the world, not stay trapped in Forks, even if it is where I am destined to spend the majority of my responsible days. Promise me we'll travel a little and live life, for we know all too well how short it can be. I never want us to have cause to regret a thing, and I want to make you happy, as you make me. I am excited about our life together, Edward, and I am eager to begin it, as soon as you come home to me.

I am waiting, as always, and I love you.

Bella

So it was Ben who died :( Many of you suspected it, but I also got some more outlandish guesses... Not mentioning any names ;) I hope you enjoyed that chapter, and I would love to hear from you, so hit that button :D Thanks again!

Top marks/extra points/cyber cookies for anyone who can spot the quote from the Old Testament in one of the letters :P