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Chapter 6: Aro's guilty pleasure

As a general rule, Aro reads everyone's mail. It was a hobby of his, and one that was rendered more delightful by the overall sense of irritation his brother's thoughts would turn to when recalling his theatrical demonstration as he indulged in it. But Aro really didn't see the point in making a fuss over the lack of privacy, since he was going to find out eventually through touch, so he might as well be the first to read it. Every time a letter would arrive to the Palace, a human slave knew to bring it directly to him in the throne room, and he would read it aloud for his two brothers to hear. This time was no exception, and when a letter addressed to Caius came from America, his curiosity was unparalleled and he skipped from this throne and ripped the envelope from the human's hand.

"Look what we have here, brothers! Caius, you have a letter! It's from the New World"

Marcus didn't even try to feign interest, but still glanced at his blond brother, who simply raised a perplexed eyebrow.

"Brother" Caius chided "You've got to stop calling the Americas that." Aro supremely ignored him and said with the tone of a five-year-old on Christmas Day "Let's see who could possibly be writing to you specifically."

He was standing in the middle of the throne room, facing his brothers like one of those human shows giving awards for acting performances. He opened envelop and unfolded the letter with an added look of suspense toward Caius, who started to look just irritated enough to make it fun for him. Arp cleared his voice in a dramatic cough.

"Dear Caius…my, but you are acquainted it would seem…" he commented with a mocking grin, and Caius rolled his eyes, all too familiar with his brother taste for teasing and prying. Aro went on "My brother Caius, acquainted to an American? Could it be our dear Carlisle? No, certainly not," Aro corrected himself, "Carlisle would write to me"

"Brother!" Caius insisted, a loose golden curl falling on his brow as he tilted himself forward with wavering patience "The letter."

"Oh yes," Aro mouthed with a wicked smile. "Now where was I…Dear Caius, Maybe I have a death wish, writing to one of the three lords of the Underworld,"he fought a laugh but continued"but call me Persephone, for I am not scared of Hades.So, this is a woman. An American human woman, even, it would seem, how scandalous brother." He glanced at Caius, who twitched in his seat, his brows furrowing slightly "How many mortals, do you think, can say they have been bitten by the Cerberus, and survived with a beating heart? Now that is interesting..." A human who was bitten, but not turned? How could it be? He continued with a slightly dimmer mocking tone "Maybe you would like to hear my story. Or maybe you are the one who has tales to tell, for I am but a Piccola, who thought that was glitter on your face that day in the garden. Wait...Piccola?" A glance to his brothers showed him they were thinking the same thing, as they just knew one human who was ever called that by Caius. Even Marcus straightened in his seat. Aro resumed his reading, now completely earnest "If any of this makes sense to you, here is my phone number and home address. I have so many questions, and so little time to shout them, but you have all the answers, and forever to whisper them. Bella"

His tongue was still rolling on her name when Caius appeared next to him and snatched the letter from his hands. His eyes ran through the words over and over and his hands began to shake.

"Brother, tell me." Aro outstretched his hand, and Caius seized it without tearing his gaze from the letter, and Aro felt the rush of thoughts and emotion wash over him. His thoughts, as always, were in the purest Greek, from around the time of his creation; much more agreeable to Marcus obscure Etruscan. This once great civilization that ruled over what is now Tuscany was most cherished by Didyme and therefore can ever be forgotten to her bereaved mate, even by his own thought language. Forever the rebel, his depressed brother was. Aro waved off the pinch of guilt at the thought of his sister, and focused on Caius.

Bella, Isabella, my dear Piccola...she is eighteen now, the charm is broken, her memories...she remembers. But not only that, she knows, she understands. King of the Underworld...Persephone...how much does she know. A death wish...does she remember that day, the feast? How much does she remember? How does she feel? Her memories were only supposed to come back if she needed them, Dolores had assured me of it. "I thought that was glitter on her face that day" I remember, she was always staring at me in the sun. She was never afraid. But does that mean she now understands what it was? How much does she know? Child, Piccola, how much do you know? "You have forever to whisper" she knows. That is the speech of someone who knows. How? Who told her? Does it mean that she is by law to be either killed or turned? But would she accept the Gift? If she remembers...then it was meant to be.

Images rushed alongside the stream of consciousness. The Palace inner garden basked in sunlight, where they would sit together on the steps, or lie on the grass and he would watch her fall asleep, the painting lesson he would give her. That day she had walked into the throne room...that specific memory was accompanied by an unbearable stab of pain and shame. Now that Caius was looking at her delicate handwriting, longing was the strongest emotion.

Aro had to pull away, as he was never quite comfortable with display of mental affection, which he completely lacked and couldn't fully understand, no matter how many times he had felt it secondhand through other's thoughts. As he watched his brother still frozen in his repeated reading of the letter, he knew that if he had tears, he would shed them.

"Is this from the young Isabella?" Marcus asked in surprising impatience.

Caius raised his head to meet Marcus' gaze, still trembling, his eyes wide with shock. A bright smile illuminated his face as he said "Yes Brother, yes. It is her. She wants...she's back. She's back."

And at that, Caius fell on his knees, clutching the piece of paper on his chest like a royal pardon.

I know, I KNOW this is a very short chapter, I'm sorry, but every time I tried to continue it, it wouldn't let me add another word to it. The next chapter is almost finished and should be there tomorrow as usual. Hope you liked it, and if you did – or didn't – please review it and let me know! Have a great weekend everyone!