A Father's Understanding

Aurora gingerly sat on the edge of the hospital bed. Her hand was placed on her mother's, gently stroking it. Aurora had been at the hospital since dawn, with her father, who was now standing outside the door of her mother's room. His face was pasty, and his eyes were hooded with worry. She couldn't hear what he and Carlisle were discussing, though she could see Carlisle's hand extend and squeeze her father's shoulder. The two men walked in, Carlisle following her father, with a clipboard chart in one hand, his other hand stuffed into his pocket. He stopped beside the bed, leaning over Aurora.

"She'll be groggy when she wakes up from the sedative," he spoke gently.

Aurora nodded solemnly, while her father sat on the other edge of the bed, stroking his wife's hair.

"I'd like to keep her here for a few nights," Carlisle continued. "She suffered four broken fingers and shoulder dislocation, but we were able to pop the shoulder back into place. She'll be on pain relievers for quite some time and she might need physiotherapy, but all in all she will be just fine."

Aurora's father felt tears welling up in his eyes. He bent over to kiss his wife's forehead, watching her stir in her sleep. He looked at Carlisle.

"I don't… even know to how to begin to thank you, Dr. Cullen," he whispered hoarsely. "If you hadn't come last night…we… Aurora… all of us… we wouldn't be here."

Carlisle smiled sadly, nodding.

"I wish we could have met under different circumstances Mr. Francise," he said. "This isn't how I imagined; I'd be introducing myself to Aurora's parents."

Aurora shifted uncomfortably on the bed. She hadn't spoken alone to Carlisle since meeting the Volturi. In fact, she had barely looked at him. It felt as if there was an invisible wall between her and Carlisle. Aurora's father rounded the bed. He clasped Carlisle's hand. Aurora's father, who was as tall as Carlisle, though much wider in the shoulders and middle, had a large grey handlebar mustache and thick salt and pepper hair. He then pumped the doctor's hand up and down. His massive arms drew Carlisle into a bear hug, as he slapped the man's back.

"You saved our lives Dr. Cullen, and Aurora's," he said. "I can't think of a better way of being introduced to the man who intends on marrying my daughter."

Aurora slowly turned towards her father who winked at her.

"It's best if you both go and get some rest," Carlisle said quietly, seemingly flustered by the hug. "I'll stay here and make sure Mrs. Francise is comfortable. Aurora, Rosalie, and Emmett will drive you and your father home."

He looked at Aurora as she averted her gaze. Carlisle turned and walked out of the room. Aurora, suddenly stood up, looking at her father who winked again, and nodded.

"My dear," he said. "If marriage has taught me anything it's that you have to talk to each other. You may not want to, but you must."

Aurora squeezed her father's hand before running after Carlisle. She rounded the corner as he was walking towards his office.

"Carlisle!" she called.

He stopped and turned around. She sauntered towards him, her head hanging down.

"I…I'm sorry… and thank you," she said gently.

Carlisle nodded, a soft but gloomy smile on his lips.

"There's no need to thank me Aurora," he said.

She shook her head.

"No, I know… But I'm… I'm sorry for…" she stammered.

She could feel her throat constricting, as her eyes burned. Carlisle gently brushed her hair with his fingers.

"I would have done the same Aurora," he whispered. "You're right. When it comes to family - there are no limits."

Aurora fidgeted with the sleeves of her shirt. Carlisle hooked his finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him.

"But Carlisle, you and Rosalie, and Emmett and Alice and Jasper and Edward are family too!" she breathed.

Carlisle smiled, remembering Aurora's chilling last words to the Volturi. His heart swelled with tenderness.

"I know my love, I know," he said. "You have nothing to apologize for. Your gift is that you feel so deeply, you love so deeply, and act so passionately. I should have trusted your instincts."

Aurora threw herself into his arms, letting go of a strangled sob. Her nails dug into his neck. Carlisle cradled her, soothing her back.

"Let's get you and your father home," Carlisle murmured into her ear. "I'll make sure to be here when your mother wakes up."

Aurora moved her head to look into Carlisle's eyes.

"What… About… How…Do…Do I try to explain?" Aurora stuttered.

Carlisle's lips stretched into a warm, reassuring smile.

"Let's take things slow. There will be plenty of time to explain things," he assured her. "Besides Jasper managed to alter your father's and mother's moods a little, so they may be calmer than usual."

Carlisle led Aurora and her father to the parking lot. He opened the door to the car for Aurora, then her father. Before Aurora's father got into the car, he turned towards Carlisle, observing him with the same emerald green eyes that Aurora had.

"I would be honored, Dr. Cullen, if you would accept an invitation for a very stiff drink this evening," he said.

Carlisle smiled, putting his hand on the man's shoulder.

"Mr. Francise, I would be delighted. And please call me Carlisle," he replied.

Aurora's father let out a low chuckle.

"Well then Carlisle, please call me Robert," he said.

Carlisle waved goodbye to them as the car slowly made its way out of the parking lot. He stuffed his hands into his doctor's coat, slowly turning back to the hospital. Rosalie and Emmett dropped Aurora and her father off at Aurora's home, insisting they could stay, but Aurora's father kept insisting otherwise. Putting his strong hand on Rosalie's shoulder, he shook his head.

"My dear, after last night, I think what we all need is a hearty breakfast, some strong coffee, and some shut-eye," he said, his voice laced with fatherly concern.

Emmett and Rosalie, relented, leaving father and daughter, promising they would check up on them later that afternoon. As Aurora's father walked into the kitchen, sitting down near the kitchen island, he looked at his daughter. Robert opened his arms, motioning, for Aurora to come to him. Aurora ran into her father's arms; the familiar scent of peppermint pipe tobacco and coffee reached her nostrils. She hugged her father tightly, feeling the tears in her eyes.

"I missed you my little lamb," her father whispered.

Aurora always loved how her father had almost saint-like patience. He never pushed or prodded, he would simply fold his hands across his round belly and wait for Aurora to tell him whatever she needed to tell him – all on her own time. Even when, as a teenager, Aurora taken her father's 1951 Vincent White Shadow motorcycle that he had spent years restoring, and taken it for a joy ride, he never raised his voice, even though she had crashed it into a neighbor's garden shed. He simply waited for Aurora to tell him. Robert let Aurora go, holding her at arm's length. Aurora smiled through her tears.

"Now why don't I make us some coffee and then you can tell your papa about Forks and Carlisle… and anything else you want to tell your old papa bear," he said softly, smiling at her.

Aurora nodded, wiping tears away from her eyes. Her father proceeded to make coffee. Soon, the entire house smelled of cardamom, cinnamon, and coffee beans. Aurora sighed in contentment as her father set a steaming mug of coffee in front of her. He took a slow sip of his own coffee. Robert padded his sweater pocket, pulling out a tobacco pipe and matches. Aurora giggled, realizing that her father was never without his pipe – vampire attacks and all.

"Mmmm, mmm, mmm, nothing like coffee and a pipe in the morning," he sighed, striking a match and lighting his pipe.

Aurora breathed in the familiar scent of the tobacco. Aurora's father took a few drags of his pipe, alternating with sipping the strong coffee. She exhaled slowly.

"Papa," she said. "I…There's… I think..."

Aurora's father took a long drag of his pipe, exhaling the smoke up above his head.

"You know, my little lamb, sometimes I find when I am not sure where to start – I start at the beginning," he said gently. "Then I continue until I reach the middle, and when I reach the end, I stop."

Aurora smiled. Her father always had a way of making things seem banally easily. Aurora's father continued to sip his coffee and smoke his pipe, seemingly unconcerned with his daughter's silence. Aurora's shoulders dropped as she took a long breath. She began at the beginning, telling her father of her photo spreads started in Forks, how she fell upon seeing the stag that morning, how she met Carlisle in the hospital. How he had saved her from Aldrick and how she had met Carlisle's extended family. She paused, looking at her father who thoughtfully stroked his handlebar mustache.

"Carlise…He… He is different from other men," Aurora said.

Her father nodded.

"I should hope so," her father answered. "After all, he'd have to be, if he caught your discerning eye."

Aurora shook her head.

"No, I mean, yes, he is, but…" she said. "He's different."

Aurora's father continued to nod, taking a long drag from his pipe.

"You mean to say that his skin is as white as the tundra of the arctic. His eyes glow like the rays of the sun and his touch is glacial," he said smoothly.

Aurora gaped at her father. She slowly opened her mouth, before her father continued.

"He sometimes speaks as if he were from a different era and he seems oddly young to have such a large extended family," Robert said.

Aurora nodded dumbly.

"And you think, my lamb, that your mother and I will not approve of such strange nuances in a man who has asked for your hand in marriage?" he asked.

Aurora looked down, staring at the steam rising from her coffee, mingling with the smoke from her father's pipe.

"Well," she whispered. "It's complicated."

Aurora's father snorted. She looked up in surprise, as her father smiled a knowing smile. He took his daughter's hand in his own.

"My little lamb, few things in life are simple," he said. "However, the simple things in life are also the truest and the most powerful- love, loyalty, and justice."

The words hung in the air, as Aurora looked deep into her father's eyes.

"If you love him and he loves you, if he is loyal to you and you to him, and if he, as a man acts with justness in all that he does, then my Aurora, that is all that matters," he father answered gravely.

Aurora sucked in air, feeling as if the chains that were wound tight around her heart suddenly gave way. She smiled softly.

"He does love me," she said adoringly.

"Then that's that," Aurora's father announced.

Aurora continued to chew on her lip.

"Something tells me my little lamb that it's not Carlisle that is troubling you. It's you that's troubling you," Robert said, his voice tender.

Aurora looked at her father, his face serene as if he held all the secrets – both terrible and miraculous – of the universe.

"Aurora," her father continued. "Do you remember that summer when your mother and I took you to the L'Isle Sur la Sorgue in Provence?"

Aurora smiled, remembering that summer. She spent an entire summer in Provence, France, in the pastoral town. Her summer days were filled with walks along the river, feeding the swans. In the evenings after dinner, Aurora's parents would take her to a small ice cream parlor, where the little girl would work her way through the exquisite menu of delicious homemade ice cream.

"And do you remember Aurora, that church your mother and I took to you?" Robert asked her, his eyes alight. "The one where you refused to leave because you were so taken with the painting of the angel?"

Aurora squinted her eyes as if she were trying to conjure up the memory. She vaguely remembered the small church nestled in between the town's picturesque surroundings. She remembered the flowers at the altar – they were purple lilacs.

"Do you remember the name of the angel that was the patron of that Church?" her father asked.

Aurora shook her head, unable to grasp at the name.

"It was Jegudiel – the angel of love," he whispered.

Aurora's eyes widened, as she could see a hazy icon – an angel holding a crown and a three-pronged whip.

"So, you see Aurora, your fascination with celestial beings already began at a young age," Robert said. "And then there was that day where you found the wounded owl."

Aurora gawked at her father.

"Owl?" she repeated.

Her father nodded.

"You were coming home from picking raspberries with your mother when you spotted a wounded owl in the meadow. The poor thing must have fallen out of a tree or been shot by a hunter. You wouldn't leave its side," Robert continued. "And when your mother and I told you that there was no hope for the little creature, you…"

Robert paused, remembering that day as vividly as if it happened moments ago. Aurora was crying, cradling the injured animal in her arms, tears splashing onto its feathers and beak. Aurora's mother and father watched as their daughter muttered a child's prayer, hoping the owl would move in her arms. Aurora continued to sob and sob. An ethereal light shone down from the sky onto Aurora, as her parents froze, seeing tiny crystals floating around her, dancing around and around until there was a ghostly outline of wings sprouting from the child's back. Then, as if an invisible force had prompted the owl, it moved one wing, then the other, until it was gently flapping its wings against the young girl's chest. Aurora squealed in delight, lifting the owl in her hands as it took flight.

"See mama, papa! See, the angel helped!" Aurora announced.

Silence engulfed the two figures sitting in Aurora's kitchen. Aurora's father put his pipe down.

"We always knew your wings would grow again someday, we just didn't know when," Robert said softly.