**I have the curse of falling in absolute love with minor characters that have little to no fanfiction, so I'm forced to write my own. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that this story can do my imagination any justice. Let me know what you think, thank you**
In cold solitude, sat a body of water, perfectly reflecting the jutting peaks of Mount Clemenceau. Too big to be classified as a pond, though lake didn't quite seem to fit either. For the young witch stationed alongside it, however, it was just perfect.
The cold northern air bit at her cheeks, turning the very tip of her pointed nose a brilliant shade of rose, which was bright in contrast to her otherwise ivory tone. Still, this did little to deter her from enjoying the peace, sat on her bed with the back doors of her converted van wide open and exposed to the scene, as a pan of blueberry and lavender syrup bubbled gently on the stove.
This was where the Sorceress chose to spend her winter solstice. While her family, friends and coven would be preparing for festivities in a large gathering, she was celebrating the occasion alone—as she had done for the past five years.
While it was unusual for an occultist to spend time away from their respective covens, Sybil the Third of the Loset coven found that in order to learn her craft, as well as refine other skills, packing up a van and travelling various magical historical sites was the best course of action. Again, while this was unusual—witches often found power and protection in numbers, hidden away from humans and other supernatural beings alike—the change was welcome among her peers who always sensed from a young age that the red headed witch didn't quite feel at home within the coven.' Itchy feet fit for travel.' Her Ada used to say to her when she struggled to sit still for more than five minutes.
'A well-travelled witch makes for well rounded sorcery!' her grandmother had told her before speaking final parting words and sending her on her way, not without threat of a red ear if she returned without bringing her Ama back souvenirs from her travels.
Olorin perked up beside her, stretching two small grey paws in front of him, before rubbing his head on Sybil's forearm. 'Two approaching, friendly though.' He spoke, and though not aloud, his childlike voice broke through the tranquil thoughts in his witch's head. In return for the information, he received a lovely scratch between his pointed ears.
True to his word, the ward ring on Sybils left index finger resonated lightly not two seconds afterward, and the usually opaque white gem swished and swirled until it revealed the friend that passed her invisible magical barriers.
With a large smile, Sybil Loset jumped down from her perch; feet crunching onto loose pebbles and rounded the van door to greet her visitor.
"Alice!"
With one hand on a crudely drawn map, and the other on the steering wheel, Sybil Loset drove slowly down the winding wet roads of Forks, Washington. Turning her van radio down, green eyes scrutinised the treeline, looking for the supposed well-hidden backroad that would lead her to the Cullen residence.
A sharp meow broke over the low tones of Voulez-Vous by ABBA, and Sybil turned to the grey cat perched on the passenger seat. "Oh, cheers for that Ol, wouldn't have seen that myself." She cooed, dropping the map and giving the grey feline a scratch under the chin before turning sharply onto the unpaved path behind a large pine tree that she would have driven straight past if she hadn't have received any assistance. Olorin, her little grey familiar, made a sound of protest as he struggled to keep balance at the sudden and quick action, to which the red-headed witch apologised quickly, not wanting to give the little cat anything to hold over her head for the next few weeks. Olorin loved to nag at any given opportunity. The black Nissan NV400—proudly dubbed 'Beatrice'—tore up the dirt path, no doubt leaving more mud stains on the side panelling. Thankfully, dirt and leaves turned to real asphalt as she neared the sleek Cullen household.
An elegant home made from wood and glass greeted her as she neared, as well as a solitary figure standing on the front porch. Instantly recognising this as Carlisle Cullen, the patriarch of the vegetarian coven, Sybil grinned and waved enthusiastically.
Carlisle Cullen had been a family friend of the Losets for generations, and in fact helped with the birth of Sybils younger sister, Willow, eighteen years prior when her mother ran into issues while carrying twins. Sadly, Willows twin didn't make it, but it was a miracle in itself that Will survived. That miracle himself wore a bright smile as Sybil parked behind a shiny black Mercedes, and he waited patiently while Sybil gathered the still grumbling kitty into her arms.
"Carlisle! It's so good to see you!" She called, and when she reached him she wrapped a free arm around his torso as he gently embraced her in return, giving her a squeeze that came from centuries of controlled strength—something only Carlisle could manage to pull off so effortlessly. He still smelled as she remembered, of lavender and sandalwood, and despite the cold December weather his cool temperature was a comfort.
They parted, and Carlisle gave Sybil a quick once over. "You've grown since I last saw you, it's been ten years hasn't it?" While the ginger girl had the outward appearance of being in her early twenties, she had just turned forty-six that past June. Her pure bloodline ensured a life that would well surpass two hundred and fifty. Indeed, when he saw her last, she was still going through the necessary changes a girl had to make in order to become the woman that she would stay for the next century or so.
"Too long in any case, my dear friend. I wish I'd have visited sooner, and under better circumstances." Her soft voice turned sombre, if even a little regretful.
Pale lips tugged upward in one corner, revealing a familiar dimple, and blond eyebrows knitted together as the good doctor turned solemn eyes toward his home. "You're here now, and I cannot thank you enough for coming to my families aid when we need it so desperately." He placed a cool hand on her exposed upper arm in a friendly gesture.
Placing her own warmer, human like palm over his, she shook her head. "There's no need to thank a friend for being a friend, Carlisle." Her full lips pursed in thought, before spreading to an easy smile—the mood shifting immediately as she did so. "Now stop hogging me, I've been waiting to show Rosalie how her fashion tips have paid off." That, and Sybil wasn't immune to the elements like her vampiric friend, and the bitter near-winter air was nipping at her pale exposed flesh. An autumn in the north pacific was as unforgiving as it was beautiful.
Carlisle relented and lead her towards his home, though the walk was not without a short talk to prepare for the unorthodox circumstances. Several new vampires had arrived at the home in recent days, with more expected to come as they had been asked to. While he understood that Sybil was well protected and was able to look after herself, he wanted her to be vigilant. His friends were trusted, but not all of them led an animal-based diet, and he didn't want her to become uncomfortable.
Hearing his words, Olorin perked up. "Shush, you silly cat," Sybil started, "Why would they eat you? You'd barely be brunch, Drama queen."
Chuckling lightly, Carlisle led the two into the main living—pun intended—space where everyone had gathered in their respective groups. Even Charlotte and Peter, as well as Alistair had gathered there when they realised their new comrade was someone of the living, breathing, heart-beating persuasion. Curiosity getting the better of the nomadic types.
"Sybil, I would like you to meet everyone that has gathered so far." She almost gulped as Carlisle started the introductions, suddenly a little uncomfortable with the unfamiliar attention. Instead, she settled for shuffling her feet a little, and holding her cat closer to her chest. She had the distinct feeling that Carlisle wasn't introducing her because of any formality, but to reiterate that Sybil Loset was a guest and close friend of the Cullens, and that any mishaps or bother would not be tolerated. "First, we have the Denali clan, of course you know Eleazar and Carmen, as well as their coven mates Kate and Tanya—" Carlisle continued the introductions, moving throughout the room. Sybil counted eighteen vampires that were not with the Cullen coven.
Unfortunately, only the Denali coven had the familiar golden eyes that came with a 'vegetarian' diet. Fourteen sets of red eyes bored into her very soul. Not being strictly human, Sybil knew she had the advantage of the fact that her blood was apparently not as appealing as a humans would be—the reason for this was beyond her knowledge, but Jasper had confirmed as much when they last met. However, while the witch was indeed powerful, being viewed as a weaker and lesser being—something to be eaten and not respected left a tumbled mess of nerves in her stomach that she tried not to show on the surface.
That, and everyone was beautiful. Painfully so. Eyes as vibrant as shamrocks shifted from one pair of red eyes to another as Carlisle listed them off. One look at Senna's gorgeous 3A hair and blemish free brown skin and Sybil was ready to crawl into a hole, suddenly all too aware of her own imperfections.
From Senna, the nomads were next, and finally Sybil was able to put faces to names with Charlotte and Peter whom she had heard so much about from Jasper.
What happened next could only be described as curious as her host shifted from the southern nomad pair to the nomad next to them.
She first noticed strong arms, folded into each other in such a human fashion it seemed rather funny, and her eyes travelled upward. She vaguely wondered why a vampire would wear silly things like bracelets or necklaces, as vampires seemed above such trinkets. The dark beard struck her next, and she was left thinking that she'd never once seen a vampire with facial hair before, but there it was, surrounding a sharp jawline and curving over a smirk that suggested he had a joke just waiting to spill between his full lips.
Sybil vaguely registered Carlisle introducing him as Garrett, and she couldn't help but think the name suited him, like she wouldn't have been able to fit any other name that came with a man like him. 'An old friend', Carlisles voice echoed in her head a few times, and she was left wondering what his voice would sound like and whether it would sound half sarcastic as he looked. Humourful—witty—perhaps.
Green irises rose from a sharp nose to meet maroon orbs under thick brows that were already studying hers as though she was a rabbit in a trap, and he were a fox looming over her. At the same time, however, there was nothing threatening about the way he looked at her. Nothing that made her think he was going to pounce, her ring all but confirmed this when it didn't vibrate to let her know someone sought her ill intent as it should. All at once, Sybil was hyper aware of a buzzing that ceased when she met his eyes, one she didn't even know she was hearing until it had stopped just then, like an untuned television being turned off at the switch. Carlisle had already moved on to introduce the rest of the Nomads, but Sybil wasn't following, or even listening to him fully. This man had captured her full attention, and she wasn't even sure as to why.
Plucked copper eyebrows knitted together slightly in confusion as the very tips of her fingers tingled with magic, fizzing underneath the skin without instruction, and her heart thumped loudly in her ears.
Bearded lips twitched to reveal white, slightly crooked teeth, as Garretts mouth parted as though exhaling a breath he didn't need.
"—That is everyone thus far, but there may be more to arrive shortly." Carlisle burst through the heavy fog that clouded her mind, she tore her eyes away from the vampire that elicited such a strange reaction from her fae.
Lightheaded and rather confused, Sybil resolved that she would just have to contact her Ama for guidance. This wasn't something she had encountered before, and it her magic was twisting and turning throughout her veins, restless. Her heart was thumping so loud she was sure every vampire in a hundred-mile radius could hear it. Most definitely the ones left in the living room that hadn't disappeared after the introductions and polite smiles.
Sybil nodded once and waved at the group of vampires watching her with rapt attention. "Hello, it's nice to meet you all." Her Scottish accented voice sounded faint to her own ears, so she cleared her throat lightly. Turning to look at the gentle blonde, "Carlisle, I brought my books with me so I can conduct the research you need me to, I was just wondering if you have a space free for me to do so." She explained, and with a flick of her hand, a deep red leather duffel bag appeared a few inches from the ground, before thumping onto the polished wood next to her feet. Olorin wriggled from her arms, plopping himself down onto the floor. "It's no bother if you don't have anything to-ah!"
The breath from her lungs escaped her as a brick wall collided into her side, twisting his tree trunks for arms around her frame and lifting her into the air. Holding her at arm's length, to which the other end stood a very smug Emmett, with the biggest shit eating grin she'd ever seen. His eyes were a bright honey colour, pairing with his dishevelled appearance told her he'd come back from a hunting trip. "Emmett!" she scolded, blowing away the hair that had fallen in front of her face.
"Don't give me that, short stack, I know you missed your favourite vampire." He teased, the smile that came so easy to him never leaving his dimpled face. She'd known Emmett all her life, and the pair had been rough housing for as long as Sybil could walk on two feet.
She scoffed, rolling her eyes, "Favourite vampire? Em, you're not even my favourite Cullen." She bit back, trying and failing to swat at his head but only managing to reach one stray brown curl at the top of his head.
The burly Cullen feigned offence, his beautiful features twisting into a look of shock and then over-exaggerated hurt, "You wound me, witch." He stated, dropping her from his vice like grip, to which she only just managed to land on her feet. However, she wasn't safe for long, as hands like bear paws plopped themselves onto each shoulder. "Go on," He shook her, "Who is it?"
Though the witch wasn't short by any means and was in fact taller than average and standing at a sturdy five foot and eight inches, having Emmett invade her personal space made her feel around three foot tall. Still, she brushed off his hands—though was under no illusion that he couldn't keep hold of her if he didn't want to. "Ever since Esme made me duck Confit, no one has really been able to top that, so unless you've got a burger king stashed away somewhere it'll stay that way."
Emmett, with miraculous speed, rushed to pick up Sybils bag, waving her off with a scoff and a roll of his topaz eyes. "'I'll be your favourite again by tomorrow, just watch." Before he could get a response, he disappeared in a flash.
"Olorin," She called, and the little cat trilled in response, "Please make sure he doesn't touch anything that will get him possessed please."
Sure, he sighed, but don't blame me if he breaks anything. Olorin was all too happy to leave the presence of the remaining vampires, even if they were minding their own business, in favour of company that he knew wouldn't try to take a bite of the feline so he trotted up the stairs after him with his tail held high and away from any supposed danger.
I related to that, of course. Feeling like prey was never something I thought id willingly put myself through. Exposing myself and my craft to a coven of bloodthirsty vampires was dangerous and I had no doubt in my mind that I would be relentlessly hunted by them afterward. Truth be told I was terrified for my future after this. For Olorin.
Being so closely linked to my familiar meant that Olorins feelings were so clear to me—much like my own emotions. Entwined like two pieces of Ivy. His reservations about being here were feeding into my own, causing the gnawing feeling twisting in my gut to become all the worse. I supposed it was only natural, the cats instinct were screaming at him to leave the situation, and if he didn't have the sense of a familiar then he wouldn't at all entertain being anywhere near this many predators. Remembering the number of red eyes that I was introduced to, I was inclined to agree. Though, my friends needed me, and seeing the reserved gratefulness behind Carlisle's honey coloured orbs made betraying my instincts worth it.
Like Alice said, the next week or so will be difficult. With the new addition to the Cullen family came great hardship that I could feel in my very fae. Loss was clinging to my bones like moss to a stone.
Still, I squared my shoulders and straightened my spine. There was time for having reservations, and time to mull over what was to come, but it wasn't now.
Now, my friends needed me more than I could put into words, and I'll be fucked if I turned my back on them.
**please let me know if you like it, and feel free to give constructive criticism. I haven't written properly in years. I switched to first person near the end because I forgot how much writing in third person made me want to commit not-alive. Besides, I think its easier to convey thoughts and feelings in the first person, but please let me know what you prefer. Thx xoxoxoxoxoxo**