A/N: Finally we are within the realm of Emmett's story; they have finally made the move to North Carolina and are merely fifty miles from Gatlinburg, Tennessee. With only the Great Smoky Mountains in-between, and hoards of angry black bears. Oh and hunting seasons approaching. So with further ado, thanks to everyone who reviewed, alerted and favoured the story.
Guest: Thanks for such a great review, I always love knowing people are enjoying the story. And how thankful I am that you picked up on my mistake! I've been using it in the wrong context the whole time (I feel a facepalm is needed) when I begin my editing (which will occur eventually)I'll sort that one out! Hope you continue to enjoy!
smudge704: Thanks for reviewing, and successfully making me blush with the compliments. Glad to hear you like the story so far. And I think with a past as incredible and harrowing as Bella's, she will definitely find out. Not sure when quite yet, but it's happening.
Areej.A.A: Welcome to the story, I'm so happy that you're enjoying it so far. And I'd love to answer your questions, but I don't have a definite answer to Bella getting her memory back yet. I have a few ideas; a really keen one is having Alice involved somehow. But I'm sure one will eventually write itself in, before Alice and Jasper, or including. Thanks for the review, I love answering peoples queries!
reader346: Sorry! I hope I haven't torn you away from your essay (writing it in Spanish doesn't sound fun, I took Spanish and was utterly hopeless.) If only there was a Fanfic filter, only delivering emails when all other class work was complete. I'd maybe actually do my work then. Hope you managed to get it done, and thanks for the review.
Bookwormac: Yes, it's finally here. And seeing as there is no need for a social build up; as Emmett is a complete stranger to the family upon his change, it will hopefully be a lot quicker. No building hatred between the vampire and the human, just a terrible accident involving a bear. And although Rosalie can be a bitch, we can't help but want to see her happy with Emmett. Thanks for reviewing.
Guest: I love writing a bit of Rosalie, Bella bonding time, but can't help but miss Bella and Edward as a couple when I do. As for Rosalie she's about to get a whole lot more cooperative. Thanks for your review.
MissMartha: I'm glad I managed to convey that, it was a difficult chapter to write emotions wise. Having never experienced anything so awful, it was hard getting within a mind set to write something so grief ridden. Indeed those are the speeches from the British Wreck Inquest; there was so much technical jargon, that it almost overwhelmed the real reasons to why they were there. But nonetheless a very interesting read. Thanks for reviewing.
viola1701e: That's the reason I wanted to write the chapter, it's not very often the stories of those left behind get told. I really wanted to attempt to write what it must have been like; I'm sure putting the energy required for grief into something like taking revenge must be a welcome change in emotion. With no inquest to attend every day, I'm sure she's seeking something to fill the days. Thanks for your review.
Jojo657: Oh no how? Probably my fault, I have a tendency to jump around a bit. Hope you have found the missing one.
CullenBoy123: Hope I didn't make you cry! That was not my intention (well maybe a little,) luckily Emmett should come with a dose of comic relief. Thanks for the review.
Matthias Stormcrow: One word…Emmett. It's finally beginning. Thank you for another review.
Sarah.A.A: Emmett himself is not within this chapter, but the way I'm going about his story he should be within the next. And I'm still toying with the idea of incorporating Alice within the relevance of Bella's past; I do like that idea very much. Thanks for your review!
Gracegoddess: I love writing the past chapter so much; I swear I should just do a spin off. It really does chance the dynamics, gives me a muse to continue when things get a little bogged down. It is hard to be completely creative when the plot has already been dictated by the original book; therefore these little additions just make me happy. I'm glad you liked the chapter, thanks for the review.
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga.
Chapter Fifty One: Etiam progredieris
January 3rd 1935, Waynesville, North Carolina.
"I am determined to make town by next week." Rosalie declared, pointing the spanner in my direction for added emphasis.
"Your determination is admirable, but it cannot command the weather." I replied, swinging by legs back and forth from my perch on the workbench.
Her lip curled up in discontent, as if suddenly remembering something foul. "Will wishful thinking not prevail?"
"Probably not, but if anyone were to tame the elements with pure lip, I'd stake my money on you." I announced, fingering the label on the bottle of turpentine.
"I'm not above trying." She responded. The braid on her shoulder was tossed carelessly over her shoulder as it started to become a hindrance; she returned to the open bonnet of the broken down Packard.
"You got a diagnosis for me yet?" I prompted, staying on my bench to avoid stepping into her designated work space. We had already been through such a discussion.
"Hard to say." She murmured, tinkering with something in the engine bay. "But I can say some of the fuses have blown."
"So driving a motorcar at top speed for that long, really isn't recommended?" I mused.
"No." She declared bluntly. "But it was fun, especially when we almost got pulled over by the highway patrol."
"Shh." I hushed quickly, looking around inconspicuously for any signs of the others. "That little piece of information is remaining between the two of us."
"And the excuse for this." She gestured towards the motorcar, sidestepping the smoke billowing from its bonnet grills.
"You're good with mechanics, make something up." I replied, looking distastefully at the oil slick pooling underneath the car. "Can you fix it?"
"Probably." She blew a stray tangle of hair away from her face, her hands too dirty to do the job. "I may need some parts, new fuses, the radiator is looking a little worse for wear and it could do with a new carburettor."
"I'm sure there's a junkyard somewhere in the area. We could attempt to go tomorrow, after town, if the weather holds." I said, attempting to stick the label back onto the bottle.
"You're on." She declared.
With a plan agreed upon, and Rosalie far too engrossed with her passion for mechanics to hold a conversation, I sort to find other people to take my interest. Carlisle was void; he had finally gotten the chance to uphold a job at a hospital once again. The Medical Centre served the people within the Haywood region as the closest hospital, before reaching the city of Asheville and onto the even larger cities of Charlotte and Greenville. His admittance back into employment gave us access once again to blood samples, and the slow and gradual integration of Rosalie back into human civilization. Although strong in mind, the whole process had not been without its setbacks. An overzealous poacher, who had strayed far from the designated hunting spots, had become a slip on her record.
His death had only pushed her to pursue her integration with renewed vigour, and her determination had come back stronger. To date she had successfully walked through town, and visited the grocers. For a vampire of only two years, it was an achievement to be proud of.
Moving to North Carolina had been well received by all; the house was large, spacious enough for all five of us to dwell in with luxury. We had running water, electricity and even a connection to the telecommunications lines; even if they were a little dodgy. The property, although part of Waynesville town, was nestled comfortably into the Great Smokey Mountains National Forest. Its sheer expanse meant hunting was surely unrivalled by any destination I had ever visted before. Indeed everyone was happy with these new living arrangements, even the likes of the ever demanded Tanya.
Before we had left for our new home, the Denali's had come for a visit. Including their ever evasive runaway members, having been re-accosted by Tanya and Kate. Not a pair to get on the wrong side of.
Tanya, clearly still out for blood, decided to take on Rosalie. The first couple of days of their stay were fraught with some savage exchanges, but after eventually telling Tanya the two of us were getting on better, relations lightened up a little. There was still no hope for Laurent and Edward; the two were perturbed by each other. Edward said his constantly shifting thoughts and deliberate attempts to accost his mind reading, was a sure sign of his wavering loyalties.
After mentioning this to Tanya and Kate, the Denali's were quick to depart. Laurent could be more closely monitored and confined within their own territory, if he should attempt to hunt humans it would be easier to condone with the wilderness of Alaska. With Kate's shaggy and rather capable looking mate breathing down his neck, Laurent was sensible in departing with no trouble. The length of the short visit and its purveyance with awkward relations made it a difficult one. And so my beloved blonde friend from Alaska had decided that we were to make the journey north, once Rosalie's hunger was under control. A plan I wasn't sure everyone was quite aware of.
"Why is there smoke coming from the Packard?" Came Edward's question.
I placed my boots into the wooden pigeon holes, crossing the white and black marble checked floor to find him in the first reception room. Taking up the entirety of the coffee table, the floor, and piled high on the chairs, spread the entirety of his record collection. There must have been a hundred at least, taking up every available space in the room, apart from the spot on the sofa he was occupying. Having been in storage while we were living in the small house, they had not seen the light of day in an age. The disorder of the piles made them uncomfortable to look at, so I made no attempt to venture any further than the threshold.
"There was a motorcar related issue that occurred on the highway." I lied, remembering the question that still hung in the air. Resisting the urge to play with the ends of my hair; an apparent tell-tale sign that I was lying.
"An issue?" He replied slowly, the left corner of his lips twitching at my uninvolved hands.
"Yes, one in four Americans experience car related issues every day." I responded, tattling off a statistic I had read in an insurance leaflet.
"So almost getting caught by the highway patrol for going twice over the speed limit has nothing to do with it." He smirked knowingly.
"No?" I fumbled with a surprised lilt to my voice.
"You are a terrible liar." He announced.
"No, I'm a good liar; I just can't lie successfully when you already know the truth. And you shouldn't be listening to Rosalie's thoughts went we're having a private conversation." I retorted, wincing at my own terribly weak argument.
He only smiled wider. "But love, it wasn't Rosalie. I'm afraid it was your loud attempts to shush the truth that gave you away."
"Excellent." I announced with a childish pout. "My ability for stealth impresses even me sometimes. I'm going to find Esme before I let out any other sordid secrets."
"Sordid secrets, eh?" He suggested with a baritone tenor.
"Why am I not remotely surprised that's the only thing you caught from that?" I pondered, narrowing my eyes in his direction.
"I don't have a respectable answer to that." He said.
"I would love to come over and gratify that remark with action, but you seem far too busy-" I gazed in determination at the piles. "Alphabetizing by genre. So I'll go see if Esme needs a hand."
His growl of frustration only made the situation more humorous. I would undoubtedly pay for that later.
Leaving Edward to his compulsive ordering, I sort out Esme within the labyrinth that was this house. Traveling along the long corridors and up the servant's stair case. The house was archaic of Victorian gothica, far from current architectural fashion and unique enough to induce us to buy. The human family before had been victims of the economic depression; even the likes of a railroad executive was not immune to money troubles that followed a stock crash.
Unlike its farmhouse neighbours, with their timber frames and cladding, our house was stone built. Dark grey rock quarried from the excavation of the railways, and black slate imported from the Vermont quarries. The masonry was truly stunning, further enhanced by the great glass sun house that backed onto the wild gardens.
But it was a definite on-going renovation. The interior of the house had been stripped to bare plaster and floor boards, everything of value having been sold by the last owners. So far only the three inhabited bedrooms, the two reception rooms, and Carlisle's study had been finished. Yet Esme's designs and skill were exquisite, her taste for modernism incorporated the beauty of traditional and vintage styles.
For the past couple of days, her project had been starting the first of several guest rooms on the first floor. Ready for any unexpected drop ins from extended family, or should we pick up another straggler along the way.
I found my next verbal victim on the east side of the house, working away most diligently on her decorating. The room resembled something akin a bomb site, the sheer amount of debris strewn about the floor was immense. In the middle of it all, and the one responsible for the mess, was Esme. Wearing her designated painting clothes, and resembling a force to be reckoned with as she tore down a stud wall.
"I thought you were going to keep that wall?" I questioned, stepping over the small mountain of plaster board.
"I was." She replied, tearing down another chunk with her bare hands; the sledge hammer sitting off to one side. "But l got a little curious when I found the wall was hollow, and low and behold just look at this fireplace."
"Pretty." I admired, cautious of my step as I navigated the piles of debris. "Wonder why it was boarded it up?"
She brushed her hand over the dusty hearth tiles, revealing them to be a most vivid colour. "Your guess is as good as mine, but it's such a shame they did. Just imagine how splendid it will look."
"Is it too late to request a change of room?" I joked.
"I mused the very same thing." Esme smiled.
"We could make it into a library." I suggested. "Lord knows how many books we have in storage, and between you and I, Edward could use a place to store some of his records.'
"Oh, I like that idea very much." She said. "The room height is perfect for those beautifully large cases, the ones with the sliding ladders."
"With furniture as incredible as that, I may decide to dwell solely in here." I announced.
"Then may I commandeer your hand a moment?" She questioned.
"Please do." I responded, crouching down beside her to brace my hand against the newly exposed tiles, as she removed the last of the board from the hearth grill. In sooty clumps it broke away, filling the air with a mirage of black particles. The main burning grill, all the way up to the chimney gap, was completely blocked by a great mass of materials. Bricks, fabric, paper, all wadded within the small fireplace to block up its function completely.
We moved the floor tarpaulin to catch the mass of material, as we pulled the blockage down. Luckily other than several small bird skeletons and a pair of old leather shoes, there was nothing grisly or macabre within the gap. From the pile we removed all the bricks, stacking them neatly to one side. Before within the realms of curiosity we straightened out the mass of documents and yellowing newspapers.
"Looks like a quote...a quote for the conservatory building work." I announced, holding the charred document between my fingers.
"These newspapers are from nineteen eleven and twelve." Esme said, flattening the scrunched up tabloid. "Norwegian Antarctic Expedition, New Mexico the forty seventh state, the Olympic Games. " Reading the visible headlines aloud. "How sad, this one is reporting on the Titanic disaster."
"Really?" I questioned rhetorically, kneeling to her side to scrutinize one of the papers. "That is a real piece of history."
One by one we picked through the mess of newspapers, building up almost seven months' worth of issues. Most ranging from November nineteen eleven all the way through till late June nineteen twelve, there were also even a couple of earlier articles. Due to the specialised interest of the issues, we could only come to the conclusion they must have been part of a collection. Perhaps sacrificed to board up the fireplace; it was not uncommon for people to decommission unused rooms within times of hardship. It was uneconomical to leave them to collect dust, and essential heat could not be wasted through an unmaintained fireplace.
"I remember reading about the Titanic in the Columbus Dispatch" Esme stated, shifting through the grainy images and tragic headlines. "I became adamant I would never set foot on any kind of ship after that."
"It's kind of harrowing that other than the trials no one speaks of it anymore." I replied, tracing the illustration of the ship meeting its watery end. "I always found that rather sad."
"Perhaps it is still too soon for people to converse about." She mused. "Too raw."
"I don't think that is something one can recover from." I replied. "Can you imagine being the witness to something so horrific? Surviving when so many perished, how can your mind even begin to process such a thing?"
"I don't suppose acceptance is something that could ever be sort after such carnage." She replied softly. "Maybe over time people can begin to seek some kind of reconciliation."
"Maybe." I nodded, passing the paper back to her.
"I shall keep these; it would be an awful shame for them to be lost again." She decided.
A/N: Oh I kind of feel like Esme's making a premonition towards the future. And if all goes well; and the chapter write's itself the way I want, I'm hoping to have Emmett within the next chapter.
Thanks for reading.
