Trigger/content warning: details of sexual assault in Alec's POV.

Divine Comedy (10)

Jane

Strolling through the park's carnival games felt like stepping into a whirlwind of artificial noise and colors. There came the pop of fake guns, the clink of plastic rings against glass bottles, the clatter of balls being tossed into baskets, and most of all, groans of defeat from people who tried and failed to win.

It only took a cursory sweep of my sharp vampiric gaze to figure out a pattern among these games. "They're all rigged, aren't they?" I asked Seth.

He chuckled. "Yeah, but that's the fun of it. Where's the fun in a game that's too easy?" He stuffed the last of the hot dog into his mouth. "Anything catch your eye? Play whatever you want, and I'll pay."

I said nothing as I walked at a human pace and looked around for something that would interest me.

"Dang, that's still here?"

Seth's exclamation made me stop and follow his gaze. He was gawking at the largest stuffed bear I had ever seen in my life. It hung from the rack as one of the top game prizes.

"I was ten when I last came to Sol Park. This is the exact same bear I saw back then. No one's won it in five years." He grabbed the sides of his head. "Just look at the size of that thing, Jane. It's almost as big as you!"

I frowned at the sheer impracticality of it. "Why on earth would you need a stuffed animal this big?"

Unlike me, he looked at it with longing. "You can sleep on it, chill on it, use it like a pillow in the living room..."

I smirked. "Oh, that's right. You like to nap, don't you?" I shrugged. "Since no one else could do it, I will win that prize for you."

His eyes lit up. "That'd be awesome! I want to see you try."

Seth paid the young man running the stand, and I was given three darts. I turned them over in my fingers and looked up at the board littered with balloons.

"Looks straightforward," I remarked. "I pop a balloon to win the prize, right?"

"Yeah, you get three chances," Seth said. "You only need to pop one balloon, but there's a catch..."

I nodded. I knew what he meant. It wasn't obvious to feeble human eyes, but I noticed that the balloons sagged a bit. They were not blown to their maximum capacity, which made them much harder to pierce, therefore harder to win. So I was being cheated. Well, two can play that game. It'll take cheating to win against cheating.

I flung the first dart into the blue balloon directly across from me. The average human throw wasn't strong enough, but with enhanced strength in the flick of my wrist, I sent the dart straight through the balloon.

The game runner's eyes flew wide at the sound of the pop. His surprised face then swung to me. Clearly he wasn't used to seeing winners at this game.

Seth pumped his fist. "Nice, Jane! That bear's ours!"

His two friends, who were playing games nearby, dropped whatever they were doing to join us at our game counter.

"Whoa, Seth, did you really just win that huge teddy bear?" the long-haired one exclaimed. "The one nobody could get?"

"Not me, Jane."

I looked back at his friends, then turned to the young man who still stood in disbelief. "One prize per popped balloon, is that right? Does that mean I could get up to two more prizes if I pop two more balloons?"

He blinked several times and sounded like he had lost his tongue for a few moments. "Uh, yeah, technically you could."

"Jared, Embry, take your picks," Seth said. "Jane's going to win them for you."

"Sweet! Uh, I want that elephant."

"I want the wolf."

"Wow, Jared, real original."

"It's for Kim, okay?"

While Seth's friends made their choices, I had already popped a balloon with each throw. I gestured to the rack of prizes. "All yours," I said, and they were practically skipping with glee as the game runner took down the stuffed wolf and elephant for them.

The giant bear was lowered last. At first he tried to give it to me, but as I stumbled back and could barely wrap my arms around it, Seth stepped in to get it off my hands.

"Jeez louis, it really is your size," he said with a laugh. "It almost made you fall over!"

Seth was tall, certainly much taller than me, but even he somewhat struggled to balance the bear in his hands. He had to peek around its neck to see where he was going. It was hard to watch him without smiling.

His friends thanked me for the prizes, and with an added serious note, they thanked me for saving him the other day. Taken aback at their second thanks, I just nodded before they ran off to resume their competition on other games.

"One game is enough for me," I told Seth, and shot him a mischievous glance. "We won't have enough hands for more prizes if I keep winning."

His eyes crinkled as he grinned. "You're right. Wasn't that fun, though?"

"Fun to cheat the system? Yes."

That made him laugh. "How about we go down to the docks? All kinds of ships sail by, and I love the way the moonlight hits the waves."

Heading for the docks meant leaving behind the chaotic swirl of noises and lights from the games. No one followed us on the way. I assumed that we wouldn't be wandering off too far to stir up any concern. The inlet ahead of us marked the end of the theme park. Half moon hung far above our heads, its light coating the crests of gently lapping waves like fresh snow. Yachts and party boats, alight in festive colors and carrying the beat of pop music, glided up and down the inlet.

The lights reflected in Seth's dark eyes. "Magical, isn't it?"

I nodded.

Walking along the inlet meant being one level below the rest of the park. That level was formed by concrete about my height, and sectioned off only by ropes and poles. A little girl—just over a year old, I guessed—wandered away from her parents and stumbled under the rope. Out of instinct, I broke away from Seth's side and lunged forward at breakneck speed, just as she took her first step into thin air. She fell right into my arms.

It happened within a split of a second. It took the toddler and her parents another second to realize what had happened. She clutched at my sweater and started to cry, while her mother and father peered down crying out in mixed alarm and relief.

"There, there, you're all right," I murmured to the girl.

I checked her over as I gently bounced her in my arms. No bruises or scrapes. I readjusted my hold to lift her up, and her father knelt down to take her from me.

"Thank you, thanks so much," he said.

"Not a problem," I replied with a shake of my head.

"We're so glad you were right there," the mother exclaimed.

I didn't correct her. Let the humans think they knew what they saw. I had the cloak of night on my side to shield my swiftness from weak human sight.

I watched the parents return to the park with their sniffling child before I turned back to Seth, who had evidently been staring wide-eyed at me the whole time.

"Wow, Jane, that was amazing."

"It was nothing. You had your hands full, and I'd hate to have that girl broken and bleeding on me."

"No, I mean, the way you held her and got her to stop crying...I had no idea you knew how to handle little kids."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Come now, you know I can do far more impressive things than that."

"Not everyone has a way with kids," he insisted. "You looked like a natural at it. You must've had experience, right?"

Irritation spiked out of me before I could fight it back. "I told you, it was nothing," I snapped.

Seth ducked behind the huge stuffed bear in his arms. "Sorry," he said from behind it.

I huffed out a sigh and glared at the waves, disappointed at myself for losing my temper. "Just forget it," I muttered.

We continued our walk down the docks, and he didn't bring it up again. An uncomfortable silence settled in between us, but I was the first to break through it.

"Seth, it's not your fault. It's mine. I'm not ready to talk about it. Not yet." I looked up at him, at how young and innocent he looked, especially with that giant stuffed bear in his arms. "There's a lot about me you don't know. And I don't know if you're ready to hear it."

"Sure, Jane," he said softly. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I'd never want to make you upset or uncomfortable."

I closed my eyes and sighed. "I know."

"That's the last thing I want to make you feel today."

I tried to meet his eyes, and found that I couldn't hold his gaze for long. I was used to having people direct all their fear, hatred, and anger at me. The naked sincerity and empathy brimming in those dark eyes of his were too much for me to bear. My gaze wandered back to the park.

"Aren't there still some rides you wanted to show me?" I asked him. "We'd better get through them all before the park closes."

My half-hearted attempt to change the subject and lighten up the mood was rewarded with an enthusiastic nod from Seth.

Jacob and Renesmee, wiped out from all the rides they went through, were more than happy to hold onto Seth's giant stuffed bear and admire it while we took our turn. The roller coasters, which swung us up, down, and every which conceivable direction, provided ample distraction from thinking about the toddler I had saved.

On my second turn at Boardwalk Bullet, I made sure not to shut my eyes at the big drop.

Seth

I had snuck in a photo of Jane trying to take the humongous teddy bear from the guy managing the balloon dart game. The way she bent back almost 90 degrees under the bear, that look of utter panic and confusion on her face...it was priceless. I was going to keep that photo a secret, otherwise she'd make me delete it.

That moment when she caught the little girl who fell, though...I hadn't used the camera on my phone for that, but honestly, I didn't need it. I'll remember that moment forever. I didn't see a vampire who had gotten her hands on prey. I saw a girl who had saved an even smaller girl. Under the glow of moonlight, when the poor kid started crying, I caught the softest, warmest look on Jane's face before she handed the kid back to her parents.

There was something else to the look on her face, too. A kind of fondness that looked...sisterly? Motherly? But she never told me she had a kid brother or sister, only a twin brother. And she looked way too young to have been a mom.

Still, I think I had just gotten a glimpse of humanity that, until now, had been buried deep inside Jane for a long, long time.

That kid wasn't the only one who had fallen tonight. That moment made me fall in love with Jane.

Alec

As the highest-ranking member of the Volturi guard, I had little time for leisure. Whenever I was granted such times by my masters, however, I liked to make good use of them in the castle library.

I sat in the library now, rereading one of my favorite books: a volume on Arthurian tales. I have been on this earth for a little more than a thousand years, yet grand stories of noble knights and their deeds worthy of fame and song never failed to enthrall me. I would forever have the mind and sensibilities of a fifteen year-old boy.

It had all started with my father, a Frankish knight. He wasn't home very often, since he had to be away on campaigns and fighting enemies on foreign lands. In our childhood, Jane and I used to imagine and play out what that was like. We had tied blankets to our necks to make capes. Father had carved little, flat wooden swords for us before he left. Sometimes we wore helmets by putting bowls for porridge over our heads. We used to drive our mother mad when our pretend swordplay got out of hand in the house.

Like almost all boys of my age and from my time, I had wanted to be a knight. I had wanted to be just like my father, to be chivalrous, courageous, and righteous, to use my sword and shield to defend the weak and defeat evil. Jane, being the bold and free-spirited girl she once was, had wanted to be a knight, too. Unlike most boys, I had never told her no, or that girls couldn't be knights. I let her play and pretend to fight alongside me. We were always Sir Alec and Sir Jane.

What foolish children we had been. We have become things far from knights. Those children had died in the fire, and we had emerged as creatures that thirsted after blood, and inspired fear and terror. We went on to attain fame, but not the kind for heroes. We became mighty and powerful, though we had never fought a day in our lives. With our gifts, there was no need for us to fight.

Our father had died early in our childhood, when we were six years old. He was killed in battle, buried in foreign land, and only news of his passing was brought home to us. Sometimes I wondered what he would think if he could see me and Jane now. Would he pity us for the dark turn in our lives that we had no control over? Or would he be horrified at what we've become? I was glad that I didn't know the answer.

The time of knights had long passed. They only lived on in the stories I held in my hands. Jane and I were born and raised as illiterate peasants, so it was Aro who had taught us how to read. I owed him my eternal gratitude for opening up the world of written words to me. Jane merely used books as an aid in fostering what she truly enjoyed and what she deemed useful: singing and multilingual proficiency, respectively. I, on the other hand, continued to enjoy reading simply for the sake of reading.

Returning to the stories of King Arthur time and time again became a guilty pleasure of mine. Usually they brought me back to simpler times, to happier times, when all Jane and I thought about were our adventures as knights to slay the imaginary dragon.

On rare occasions, like tonight, reading about knights turned out to sour my mood rather than lift it. Like an uninvited guest, memory of the bridge incident sprang unbidden to the current of my thoughts. That in turn took me back to memories of my nephew, Jane's son. If I hadn't been too deep in my daydreaming in the forest, he wouldn't have been born.

I could have made all the difference. I should have stayed with Jane to watch over her while she picked flowers for our mother. I could have been ready to defend her from the village boys. Instead, like the huge fool I was, I went on ahead to keep playing the knight. I had charged through the forest as if on a horse, swinging around my stick for a sword, pretending I was something I could never be.

Her screams had torn me out of my flighty dreams. The village boys had muffled her with their hands, but her screams still came to me loud and clear through the mental bond we shared. She had been crying out to me for help.

When the time came for me to truly be a hero, to save my sister, it was too late. On that day, even before we were to be accused of witchcraft and burned at the stake, I knew then that I could never be a knight.

I didn't deserve Jane's cry of relief as I had fallen to my knees by her side. I didn't deserve her tears of joy as I had brushed the dirt from her face and hair.

"I'm so sorry. This is all my fault." I had told her this over and over.

She had shaken her head at me. "It's not you. It's them."

Her voice had been hoarse from screaming. I had tried to help her up, but the boys had been so rough with her that she couldn't even stand.

I had to carry her in my arms, all the way from the forest and back to our home. No one in the village had made any move to help me. They had just looked at us with scorn and disgust. Our mother had to open the door to the two of us looking and feeling the worst we ever had in our human lives. I could barely see her horrified face through my tears. Once she had relieved me of holding onto Jane, I realized I had her blood soaked into my sleeves.

"Is there anything I can do for her?" I had asked with a lump in my throat. "Anything at all?"

"No, dear, you've done everything you could," our mother had said. "Go get washed and cleaned outside." She had helped Jane lie down, then started to pull up her dress to get a better look at the damage. That had prompted me to leave them to their privacy.

I had stepped away from the house and pulled off my shirt, but I couldn't bring myself to wash it. Instead I had just stared into it, numb to the biting chill of autumn's arrival on my bare skin. I had cursed the village boys for what they did to my sister. Most of all I had cursed myself.

The shirt I had worn turned into the book of Arthurian tales as I shut it closed with more force than necessary. Jerked back to the present day, I looked around to see if anyone had noticed my lapse in control.

Marcus was standing by the shelf of Elizabethan era books. For how long, I wasn't sure. He came and went even more quietly than I did. He looked up from the book he had open in his hands, looked over at me for the briefest moment.

I hunched a little lower in my seat. "Pardon the disturbance, Master," I murmured.

"As you were, young Alec," he said dismissively.

I studied him as he returned to his reading. I had never dared to use my gift on him, yet he carried on as if his senses were constantly cut off from the rest of the world. Everyone in the Volturi knew of the tragedy behind his current state. The loss of his mate cut into him so deeply that not even Corin, with her gift of stirring up content, could heal his wound. All she could do was lift his depression into apathy on the best of days.

Sometimes I dared to consider the possibility of losing my sister one day. If that day ever came, perhaps I would end up like Marcus. Aro would consider me far too valuable to grant me the wish of taking my own life. I would probably cut off my own senses, to try numbing myself from the terrible pain of losing the only family I had left in the world.

Just thinking of that made my unbeating heart wrench in my chest. I pitied Marcus for the terrible reality he had to endure for centuries.

My leisure time was nearly up, and I was due to return to the throne room soon. I tucked the book I'd been reading back to its place on the shelf and left the library. It had been nearly half a year since Jane began her mission. I was starting to grow anxious for her return. Our days of pretending to be Sir Alec and Sir Jane were long gone, but our service to the Volturi had always been as guardians of unwritten law, enforcing our hold on the vampire world side by side.

Being in the Volturi had taught me that there is no good and evil, only the strong and the weak. Jane and I were among the strongest. There was no room in this cruel, ugly world for knights. There never had been.

So there's my headcanon for Alec: that he's a studious bookworm. I thought that would fit his quiet and calculating demeanor. I also thought that his love for reading would make a good opportunity to slip in the knight motif, which will come more into play after the first arc of the story.