Shahrazád's Ghosts
Chapter 17: Rosalie Part II
2416 AD
Another storm melted over the stone fortress in the highlands. It was so thick that the rocks of the walls were barely distinguishable from the sky beyond and the rain poured so heavily that it was hard to tell where the rain stopped and the ground began. Rosalie paced the floor of the drawing room, only stopping to pull back the curtains so she could stare out into the kitchen garden beyond, or as much of it as she could see in the dense grey of the relentless storm. Khalid had built a fire and its golden flames filled the room with flickering warmth. He watched the flames, fascinated by their tongues and shadows. It was supposed to be midday, but it felt more like late evening, and none dared stir or speak.
Alice stood by the second window, entirely motionless, her hands holding her temples and her eyes closed. Her visions had not improved much since their guests' arrival, though with more direction to her focus, she had been inundated with visions and events occurring from a place Rosalie had never even dreamed of visiting.
Emmett fiddled with a model airplane he had discovered in one of the cellars. It was old, probably nearly as old as Emmett himself, and he stuck out his tongue in concentration while he tried to force his massive hands to perform the nimble tasks. He had nearly succeeded in gluing the cockpit together and he appeared to be the one member of their household who was the least concerned with the affairs of the day.
Esme had disappeared into town to purchase food and supplies for a newborn. She took Jasper and Kassim with her and she had offered for Rosalie to accompany her, but Rosalie couldn't. She just couldn't. Instead, she stayed in the drawing room, her feet pacing invisible grooves into the tile floor, and her ears bent on the quiet sounds of footsteps from the room overhead. There, Izzy attended Carlisle and soon they would know if they would be celebrating a birth and new birth or a series of funerals.
Rosalie wondered what would occur…. after. If all went according to plan, there would be a new vampire family. Would they choose to leave the Cullens and step out on their own or would they choose to stay with the Cullens? Rosalie wondered if they could ever truly fit into the human world without assistance. Even Bell, who was physically human, had grown in such extraordinary circumstances that Rosalie wondered if she could ever truly become "human."
If she was honest with herself, she was afraid to hope for them to stay. For such another burst of novelty and new life to occur to them, not only once but twice, seemed to be fortune beyond what they deserved. She was afraid to hope for another little Izzy to grow with them, to fill their lives with joy and newness and beautiful change. She was afraid to hope for this shade of Edward to fill the hole her brother had left behind and afraid to hope for another chance to be the sister she always regretted she had not been to him before.
Not that Michael was fully Edward, but he was enough of Edward to make her sense of hope as sharp as a knife and just as dangerous to her heart. He was enough of Edward to remind her all the ways she failed to appreciate her brother until he was gone.
It was two hours later when they all heard it: a baby's cry. A door slammed. Water ran through the ancient pipes in the walls. Floor boards squeaked with quick movements. Another door creaked open and closed again. Even Emmett's hands stilled then and a propeller fell to the floor from his fingers. All in the room held their breath, waiting.
Izzy's light feet approached the drawing room door and Emmett didn't wait. He threw open the door for her, his face openly displaying his own anxious hope. He was rewarded by Izzy's bright grin and the sight of a bundle of blankets with a tiny nose peeking out from its center.
"It's a boy!" she said. "Meet little Michael Peterson." Then she thrust the little baby into Emmett's arms.
"Mikie! My boy! Come to Uncle Emmie!" he cooed, his typically booming voice subdued and his face radiant in his delight. Everyone in the room breathed a collective sigh of relief and the fire all the sudden seemed to cast more warmth than it had the moment before.
oooooo
It was Carlisle's footsteps which next fell upon the stairs to the drawing room some hours later. He came in fresh clothes and hands still wet from recent washing. He came with his medical bag to check over the baby, carefully undressing the little bundle and waking the boy into little cries of protest at being so disturbed.
"Small, but healthy," Carlisle said after he finished. "This little one appears no worse the wear for joining us a little early."
"And the mother?" Rosalie asked, finally voicing the question they all were afraid to speak.
"Her heart is still beating," Carlisle answered with a gentle nod. "I gave her some morphine to help with the pain of the transformation. We won't know till she wakes if it helps at all, but she is not writhing or crying out in pain, so I am hopeful."
"And the father?"
Carlisle chuckled. "He is entirely at war with himself over whether he should come see his son or stay by his mate. I will bring little Peter up to him now so he does not have to torment himself any longer with such a decision."
"He managed the change himself?" Rosalie asked.
"Yes."
"I never doubted him!" Emmett chimed in from his seat at the table in the corner of the room. He held up the body of his unfinished Staggerwing to reinforce his stalwart defense of Michael's control.
"And there were no complications with the C-section?" Rosalie asked.
"None whatsoever, though the placenta was so thick I was forced to use a laser to cut through it. I will do a complete analysis on it tonight to see what I can learn about the physiology of these hybrid pregnancies."
"Perhaps you can write a book," Rosalie said. "The first official medical encyclopedia on vampire-human obstetrics."
Carlisle smiled. "Perhaps. Perhaps. It would be a worthy goal, though I am not sure I would appreciate how such information could be used in future."
"Can I… I mean, can I take Michael to meet his father?" Rosalie asked.
"I don't see why not. Go on."
Rosalie took the baby from Carlisle and she walked at a slow, human pace up the spiral staircase. The dim hallway was lit only by a few wall sconces and not broken by any windows, though now that the sun had set, not even windows would have helped shed light on this hall. She gave a light knock when she came to the wooden door to Carlisle's office. Then she creaked the door open. Inside, strapped to an immaculately clean metal table, lay Bell. Her chest rose and fell with quick breaths, her eyes remained closed, and her short hair was strewn across the back of the table like grass on a hilltop. Bowed over her body was Michael, both her hands clasped in his and held against his lips.
He stood up when Rose entered, his serious expression melting away into awe when he saw the tiny, writhing bundle in her arms.
"Here is your son," she said. "He is simply perfect."
And he was. One little tuft of red hair protruded from the back of his pink head, a button nose wiggled with his sudden yawn, and his eyes opened with the barest of slits before closing again in pursuit of sleep.
Michael took the baby in his arms, his mouth falling open and his eyes growing wide. "Am I holding him right?"
Rosalie laughed and adjusted his elbow slightly to support the little head. "There you are."
Michael's free hand pulled down the blanket so he could see the face better, but this led to a deepening scowl. "Why is he missing hair in the back, here? Is there something wrong?"
Rose laughed. "No. That's just babies. Sometimes they pop out with a whole head of hair and other times they come as bald as a hardboiled egg. Don't worry. He'll grow hair. It may take a while and it may start off rather patchy. Izzy didn't get all her hair in till she was the size of a two-year-old human."
Michael grinned at that and he nuzzled the baby's nose with his own. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am called Michael. Do not be confused. I have been told it is not uncommon for children to have the same name as their fathers. You are Michael and I am Michael, but we are not the same. We share the surname, 'Peterson,' because your mother considers Peter as her father and Jasper said you can take both names as your own. I am glad to finally meet you. You and I will be great friends, I think. You will need to give me lessons in your ways because you are the first infant I have met."
Rosalie left them then, moving into the hallway to give Michael some privacy. She moved to the kitchens to prepare another bottle for the baby, her own heart as warm as the bottle of blood she prepared. She paused to wipe her brow and smile as she surveyed the kitchen counter covered with baby supplies and human food.
"Why couldn't our father have been like Michael?" Rosalie could hear Isabella whisper to her brothers from where they huddled together around the breakfast table. "If they are the same genetically, why could he not become like Michael instead of what he was?"
"He was free to choose, the same as Michael is," Khalid answered.
"It isn't fair."
"Perhaps not. But would we exist if it were?"
"Ugh! Sometimes I wish Alice's gift worked backwards so we could see what could have been instead of what could be."
"That, my sister, sounds like a miserable gift and one that would be sure to lead to madness."
"Yeah. Maybe. But sometimes I think we are all already mad."
"You may be right," Khalid answered with a laugh.
Rose did not think she would appreciate knowing all the paths her life could have taken. She didn't even think she'd enjoy Alice's gift. She rather enjoyed surprises.
Alice hadn't seen this coming, but Rosalie couldn't say she was sorry for life to throw Alice another curveball. This was one surprise she welcomed with open arms.
Oooooo
When Bell finally woke, the entire household was present to welcome her. At least Alice had the forethought to dye her hair to a solid platinum and trim the edges into a semblance of straightness before the change occurred. Whoever this "Peter" was, he was no hairdresser. Bell may not mind at first, so caught up was she in just trying to survive, but someday, she would be glad of her nicely layered bob and single-hued hair over the mess she had arrived with.
"I just can't dye it brown," Alice had complained. "Do you know how many times I have seen that face in my visions? She needs to be a blonde. She looks fabulous as a blonde."
Michael had never seen her as anything other than a bleach bottle blonde and so he quickly agreed. Bell had not cared much, one way or the other. Rose rather thought she would have looked better as a brunette, but she didn't dare say it out loud. By Michael's quick glare in her direction, she knew he had heard her anyway.
When Bell woke, she was like a coiled spring, all lithe energy and edgy wariness. She had one goal in mind and she refused to be persuaded from it: she wanted to see her baby.
Not a full day went by before Bell got her way and little Mikie happily nestled into his mother's arms. The trio drew together like the three corners of a triangle and created their own bubble of domestic felicity around themselves. The rest of the household retreated to their own corners of the drawing room and pretended they were not all fixed on watching the trio. Some succeeded more than others.
For days, Jasper had decried their less-than-ideal location for their newborn, but there wasn't anything to do about it. They did not have time to seek out a new location unless they wished to risk Bell going into labor on her own. Carlisle felt this was more of a risk than her waking as a newborn in the highlands, surrounded predominately by deer and cattle and the occasional farmhouse.
Michael's stores of bottled blood proved invaluable. Carlisle could not hide his qualms about its origin, but he could not deny its usefulness. Bell's initial thirst was quickly and easily quenched and so her early days were spent mastering her control instead of mastering hunting. They kept her confined to the castle grounds, which proved large enough for her to practice her new abilities without gaining any outside attention or risk her running into any of their neighbors.
Neither of the new pair could not bear the idea of hunting. Rosalie wondered how long Michael's stockpile would last before he would have to resort to it. Their location did not provide enough large game to support such a large coven for an extended period of time, so, for all their sakes, Rosalie hoped Michael had enough bottled blood to last them for a long time yet.
They fell into the rhythm of the Cullen family like a tap dancer on Broadway. Bell, no longer bound by her human frailty and her "delicate" condition, eagerly set herself into mothering Mikie and learning everything Esme could teach her about taking care of the child. She had never cooked nor cleaned nor learned to brush her own hair and she had to learn everything right along with learning to do the same for her son.
Michael Jr. grew quickly. Within a matter of days, he was crawling and his hair fell around his face in red curls. His bright green eyes watched everything going on around him in keen interest. He was somehow exactly in-between his older siblings. He had Izzy's hair. His eyes were exactly like the twins. However, the curve of his nose was all his mother's. He was more boisterous than Izzy had ever been and soon his little body flew through the halls and corridors of the castle as quickly as the cat that took care of the plentiful supply of mice.
"Do you wish to stay with us?" Carlisle asked the pair, one day a few weeks after Bell had woken. "You are welcome to stay as long as you wish. If you choose to leave, we will give you supplies and funds to start you in your new life together. We wish to be of service to you, not only because of our obligation… because of Edward… but because you are now our family, too, if you wish to be, of course.
"All my children, we are family by choice, and not by blood or compulsion. We have chosen to make our own family together and there is always space to grow, but we will not force you or make you feel obligated to stay with us. It must be because this is where you would like to make your home."
Michael and Bell considered this. Their heads tilted towards each other for only a moment before both nodded.
"We like it here and we do not want to be by ourselves. We have spent enough time by ourselves," Michael said.
"Welcome to the family, then," Carlisle answered, wrapping them both in an embrace.
The great hall of the castle hosted its first official party that evening. Alice insisted everyone dress up for the occasion and even little Mikie toddled around the room in a bow tie and suspenders. Esme and Isabella cooked a feast, though only five mouths would be eating it, and Rose helped Alice decorate the drafty old hall with lights and silk flowers.
"This, my son, is our wedding!" Michael informed the little red head in his arms when they first entered the room. The boy's eyes grew wide and he giggled and clapped his hands in delight at the sight of the decorated room.
"Wedding?" Rosalie asked him. "No one told us we were having a wedding. We could have pulled out the old alter from the chapel and brought it in here for it."
Michael grew confused. "Carlisle said we would celebrate becoming part of your family. Jasper told me that when people marry, you celebrate the joining of two families. I thought we were all here to celebrate our marriage to your family."
Rose raised one eyebrow before she broke into a smile. "Good enough for me," she said. Then she leaned in to kiss both father and son on their cheeks. "I, for one, am happy to have our families joined."
She took Mikie from his father so she could give the boy his first dance.
"Should I be jealous?" Emmett asked. He sidled up to the dancing pair and sized them up with his hands on his hips.
"You should absolutely be jealous," Rosalie answered. "I am dancing with the most handsome man in the room. I have never seen another man look so good in a bow tie."
She kissed the boy's nose and was rewarded with two tiny hands clasping her cheeks and a little tongue licking her face. She grimaced and tousled his hair.
"Well, I have never seen another woman look so good dancing with a man in a bow tie," Emmett answered. Rose laughed. Then she balanced Mikie on her hip so Emmett could join in the dance with them. For a moment, Rosalie was convinced her happiness had never been so complete.
It could not last longer than a moment.
Oooooo
It was one of those gloriously warm spring days when the sun drenched the castle in a golden glow and the first sprigs of daffodils crept out of the dark earth of the kitchen garden.
For just over a month, all the inhabitants of Cullen Castle lost themselves in the easy tranquility they found together. No one had broached the subject of what they should expect to happen with the disappearance of Michael and Bell was discovered in Barzakh. Then Alice began to grow troubled.
Everyone was in the drawing room together. None would dare miss a summons from Alice and when she asked them to come, they all left what they were doing to sit around the room in a tense, anxious silence. All, that is, except Mikie. He was content to bounce on Esme's knee and blow spit bubbles all over her silk shirt.
"She will find out today," Alice stated. "Peter is going to tell her."
"By 'she,' I assume you are referring to the so-called 'Mistress of Barzakh'?" Jasper asked.
"Yes."
"Who is this 'Peter'?" Emmett asked. "I know y'all have mentioned him before, but I was a bit to caught up in the whole 'my brother is an ax murderer' to spend much time thinking about it."
"I do not believe he ever used an ax," Jasper said.
"How do you know?"
"Why use an ax when he had perfectly serviceable teeth?"
"'Ax murderer' sounds more intimidating. 'Teeth murderer' sounds like what dentists would call Halloween candy."
"How can you joke about that?" Izzy said. "It isn't funny."
"Sorry, darlin'. You are right," Jasper said. He shot a glare at Emmett till he at least appeared contrite.
"We first met Peter digging in Barzakh," Khalid explained. He cast his sister a meaningful glance and her answering grimace was enough to show she had no fond recollections of the place. "When we realized something in Bourkou was drawing in jinn, we began to investigate. We followed some trails as far as we could and we watched from the shadows. When we discovered an exact replica of the Desert Jinni, we knew Barzakh must be at the heart of it all."
"Why would he be digging in Barzakh," Isabella asked. "Unless, is that how Bell was created?"
"I do not believe so, but I never inquired into her creation. He told us that he was tasked with the destruction of the remains of the clones of our mother. For many years, he worked to exhume the bodies and then he burned them so that no other would be able to resurrect their ghosts again. It took him long because the region is entirely blanketed in farms and the suburbs of a city. He could not dig in a way that would bring notice to his actions or disturb the crops and so he had to wait until the fields lay fallow. Then, he came every night and he dug until just before dawn. He moved about as silently as a fox and the fields looked as if no one had disturbed them by sun up."
"Ok," Emmett said. "So, let me get this straight – the dude raised Bell, helped Michael and Bell escape, and runs around destroying old clones at night. Do we know anything else about him?"
"He is a very talented singer and he composes his own music," Bell interjected. She closed her eyes for a moment and began to hum a tune. She faltered and then shook her head. "I do not remember how it goes, but that was my favorite. He wrote it for me."
Emmett cocked his head to one side and wrinkled his nose. "Right. Well, I guess that's something we didn't know about him, though not exactly what I had in mind."
"Oooh! He has a beard!" Michael added.
"Huh. A beard like yours?"
"Oh, no. Much larger and a little darker."
"And he is bigger than Michael," Bell added in. "His chest and arms are broader."
"That is not useful information," Michael groused, suddenly looking down at his own arms and frowning. "Why do you even remember that?"
"It might be useful."
"No. It's not."
"This one called 'Peter' was different from the other we had seen before. For one, he was much older. He appeared to be in his early forties when he was changed," Khalid explained. "He did not explain why he was human for so long or what led to him being changed or anything about his mistress."
"Can't you just, you know, suck the answers out of him using Kassim's Jedi mind powers?" Emmett asked.
"His what?"
"You know, that memory sucking thing," Emmett asked. He outstretched his palm like an octopus and made dramatic slurping noises to elaborate.
Kassim gave such an incredulous expression in response that nearly everyone in the room burst into laughter. Then he shook his head. It was Khalid who explained.
"Peter would not let Kassim gather his memories. He knew that is what Kassim wished to do and he forbid it. 'If it were only my memories, I would permit it, but I carry the thoughts and memories of too many others and they are not mine to share,' he said. He did not appear to be a jinni I would cross purposes with and we thought it wiser to listen to his wishes."
"Do you believe he is dangerous?" Jasper asked.
"All jinn are dangerous."
"I think," Carlisle began, "what Jasper is asking is, do we know if this Peter would prove a danger to our family? He helped Bell and Michael escape, but for what purpose? Do you believe he would come after them again or share their location with those who wish to harm them?"
Bell sat upright at this and clapped her hands together. "Oh, I hope he does come after us! He would be so very happy to meet Mikie and to see that we are well! I have missed him so!"
"You do not fear him?"
"Why would I fear him? I have known him my entire life and he has been nothing but kind to me."
"What is your opinion of him, Michael?" Carlisle asked.
Michael grimaced again. "I do not like him. I hope he stays away."
"Why?"
"Because he got to spend so many more years with my Bell than I have gotten and he never had to leave to Volterra."
Jasper chuckled. "He's jealous."
"No, I'm not," Michael said. "I simply hated him because I wanted to be in his position, able to see Bell all the time. And now I don't like him because I wish my arms and chest were broader."
Bell gave him a mock glare before laughing and kissing him. "I am glad you are not Peter because then you would not be my Michael," she said and this seemed to partially appease the ruffled vampire.
"It was Peter who first introduced himself to us," Khalid added in, bringing the focus of the room off of Michael and Bell. "He had noted our scent for some time and was as curious about us as we were about him. He asked us many questions about the Desert Jinni and our mother and all that we knew of Barzakh. Our answers seemed to trouble him, though he did not tell us why. We met him a few times after our first meeting, always around Barzakh, and always at night. Until the day he came seeking us out. Then he was in great distress and he asked for us to take care of this young family and help them escape from his mistress. He feared for their safety under her care. He did not explain if it was merely the challenges of the birth itself, or the reception of his mistress to their situation, which was the primary danger he feared. He followed us as far as the airport in N'Djamena and he said he would give us as much time as he could."
"He thought his mistress intended our deaths," Michael added, his face grim. "He did not expect me to return from Volterra and when he found us together with no walls, he thought it was to kill Bell. He wanted to help us escape as quickly as possible… and he had already been making plans to help Bell escape. When he found us, he was very angry and afraid, but he was also very good at controlling his thoughts. It was only at first, when he found us and was taken by surprise, that I could see what he was thinking. Then he tried to hide his thoughts from me as much as he could."
"Regardless of who this Peter is and what his motivations are, I believe we must prepare ourselves for the very real possibility that someone may follow after our new guests," Carlisle concluded. He spoke with all the surety of a judge proclaiming and verdict and as soon as he had spoken, everyone felt quite sure that he was right.
"Do you think this 'mistress' would come for them?" Esme asked, her brow knitted in concern.
"I believe it is best to be prepared for every possible outcome. This Peter who helped them escape had good reason to think they were in danger where they were and I do not know if merely changing locations is enough to mitigate that danger. It is possible that danger could follow them here."
"Let them come. We'll be ready," Emmett said as he cracked his knuckles.
"Ready?" Jasper asked incredulously. "Ready for an attack by an unknown number of military-trained telepaths? I do not believe we are remotely ready."
"Oh, come on, Jazz. We have a castle…and a drawbridge!"
"Emmett, that's not terribly effective against vampires."
"I know, but it looks cool. We would be all Lord of the Rings-ish and I could wear a cape and jump off the parapet."
Jasper rolled his eyes.
"Oooo, oooo, can I have a bow and arrow? I can totally guard the castle with my bow and arrow," Emmett continued. He held up his hand to mime pulling back a drawstring and releasing an arrow.
"Emmett, what's a bow and arrow going to do against vampires?"
"Two words: Flaming arrows."
Carlisle sighed. "I believe diplomacy would be a better option in this case, though we do not know what their objectives could be. We, at least, have the benefit of also having a telepath and that will help balance the odds more in our favor, since we will know their plans as well as they."
Up until this point Alice had been unusually silent and troubled. Her eyes constantly shifted into the glazed distance of the future and the clarity of the present and no one could quite tell if, at a given moment, she was paying attention to the current conversation or seeking out its end in some distant time. When she spoke, everyone sat up straighter and turned to the window where she stood.
"We may have visitors, but I am not sure our visitors will include an army of Edwards. If nothing changes, our first visitors may be the Volturi. We have something they want and Aro is rather desperate to get it."
"What's that?"
"A shield. It appears our newborn Bell has a gift of her own…and one that Aro really, really wants."
"He can't have her!" Michael said, jumping to his feet. "I won't let him take her! She would not like Volterra and I do not want to return there."
"Then I would recommend she learns how to use that shield," Alice said. Then she shook her head. "It's so hard to see! We have so many hybrids here, I cannot get a clear picture of what our future holds. There are so many other players and decision-makers involved and they all seem to be in flux. It's like the visions are flashing through my mind like flipbook animation." She paused to rub at her temples with her hands. "The only way I can see the Volturi delayed in seeking us out is if the Mistress of Barzakh arrives first. Right now, both have their minds set on pursuing Bell. It's only a matter of time before one, or the other, will be on our doorstep."
"Then we must prepare ourselves for both," Jasper said. "Alice, what do we need to do?"
Oooooo
Author's note: I debated which of three chapters needed to come next. I decided we needed a reprieve from the angst and we needed to set the stage for the next part of the story. Hope you enjoyed going back to the Cullens!
