Thank you Fyrebyrd, 2brown-eyes, Gabby1017, and Ceceprincess1217 for prereading, and to jayhawkbb for editing. Please remember all mistakes are mine.

Chapter 19

Edward's eyes do not leave mine as people rush to help him from his saddle. His movements are stiff, slow, but he does not wince or cower at their touch, though his jaw remains tight. He watches me, even as his worn boots hit the ground. Drawn like a moth to a flame, I am in motion, my feet moving of their own accord. Once I'm close enough to reach out and touch him, he moves quickly, escaping the grasp of the men helping him remain upright. His arms wrap completely around me, and I am lost. His weight settles on me as he holds me tightly, and it is a welcome feeling.

"You are home." My words are muffled against his chest, and he holds me tighter.

He leans down and breathes me in, placing a kiss upon the top of my head. I peer up at him just as he rests his forehead against mine, his eyes closed tightly. "I am. I apologize it took so long, my wife." His voice is soft, raspy and hoarse from the cold and likely disuse, but it is the most beautiful sound I have heard in months. I also notice bruises and small cuts, still healing on his sunken cheeks.

"My Lord, it might be best to take this reunion indoors," Emmett says from behind me, interrupting our all too brief moment. "It would certainly be warmer."

Edward's head turns up at the sound of his cousin's voice. He shifts me to his side and extends his free hand to his cousin.

"It is good to have you home, My Lord."

Edward nods in reply but remains silent.

"It has been a long journey, cousin. We really should get you inside." Emmett looks over his shoulder at the people hovering nearby before turning back to Edward. "And if we do not, I fear they may strip you down for inspection right here to tend to your injuries."

Edward attempts a smile, but it appears more of a grimace before he gives a stiff nod, allowing Emmett and me to assist him toward the corridors leading into the castle. His steps are slow and arduous, and I do my best to support him as we walk, my arm wrapped around his waist as he leans on me. Emmett and I exchange a look but say nothing as we walk on either side of him.

When we reach his parents, Edward breathes deeply and stands as straight and still as possible before bowing stiffly in his father's presence. He remains silent.

The king's eyes fill with untold emotion, but his reply does not convey any of it. "It is good to have you home, son."

Again, Edward nods in response, but before he can speak, Esme crashes into him in an uncharacteristically public display.

"Oh, Edward. I was so worried." Her sobs are quieted against the many layers of his clothing as she wraps him in a hug.

He holds her with the arm not holding on to me, patting her back.

Esme pulls back and looks up at her son, her eyes shining with tears. "I thought we'd lost you."

Edward smiles tightly, his exhaustion clear on his face.

"Mother, perhaps we can see him to his chambers so he can be looked over," I suggest, anxious to have a moment alone with my husband.

Her eyes widen. "Oh, yes. Certainly. I do not know what I was thinking. Come, let us get you settled." She reaches for his hand, but Emmett steps in.

"Your Majesty, perhaps it is best if I assist him." He leans in toward her and lowers his voice. "His Highness seems a bit unsteady on his feet."

Thankfully, she relents, for I am unwilling to release him, and we make the long trek through the halls of Masenthorne Castle, one slow, shuffled step at a time.

There are a handful of trusted servants waiting in his sitting room when we arrive, and as we walk slowly into his bedchamber, they follow close behind. We relinquish Edward to them, and Emmett excuses himself from the room, following behind his aunt, who has taken off to acquire more supplies.

I stand at a distance as they work together to help him strip out of the clothes he wears. With every layer being peeled away, more and more of his gaunt, bruised skin is exposed. Imagining the horrors he's endured in his time away brings tears to my eyes. When he is left in only his linen shirt and undergarments, I have to swallow down a sob. The fabric, stained by blood and dirt, clings to his skin.

The fire illuminates his profile, and I watch his face screw up in pain as his shirt is slowly peeled from his body. Fresh scars mar his flesh, scabbed over cuts and gashes the least of them. Many of them are jagged lines, some of them distinct patterns, still an angry red so many weeks later. The agony he has suffered is clear.

The healer probes the worst of his wounds, asking questions, and Edward gives murmured, curt answers. His jaw is clenched, growing more tense each time the man touches him.

As he stands across the room, wounded and nearly naked, our eyes meet, and what I see steals my breath. Pain and embarrassment are reflected back at me, and he quickly turns away.

A servant walks in the space between my husband and myself, and his presence snaps me out of my daze. He carries a steaming ewer of water across the room and pours it into the wash basin. As the servant approaches him with a damp cloth, Edward seems to find his voice.

"Leave us."

My eyes widen at his abrupt tone of voice. "My Lord?"

There is quiet murmuring between Edward and the man checking over his wounds, and I drop my gaze to my clasped hands. The sound of the healer clearing his throat returns my attention to him.

"My Lady?" The man speaks quietly and quickly to Edward before looking to me. "You might be more comfortable waiting in your chambers."

"Oh, of course," I say quickly, suddenly anxious to flee the room. "I shall just ..." I turn and hurry toward the door, fumbling with the latch in my rush to escape.

I stumble through the doorway of the bedchamber, through the sitting room, and out into the corridor. The curious gaze of guards and servants all fall on me, and my cheeks heat as I turn to walk toward my own chambers, my feet picking up their pace as I get farther away from my husband.

With a pounding heart and tears building behind my lashes, I nearly run into my own chambers, slamming the door closed, and locking out the rest of the world. An overwhelming flood of emotions washes over me, leaving me sobbing as I fall onto my bed, curled into a ball. When I've finally purged all I can, I roll to my back and lie awake until the morning sun begins to peek through my window.

Before Angela arrives for her morning duties, I manage to dress myself and am at my husband's chamber door, knocking and asking for entry.

"His Highness is resting, My Lady." The guard stands just inside Edward's sitting room, and his expression is stern. "He does not wish to be disturbed."

I move to push past him. "I only wish to—"

He gently pushes back, his touch light but with intent. "He has asked that he not be disturbed, My Lady," he repeats.

I narrow my eyes at the man blocking my path to my husband. "And has he accepted any other visitors?

"No, Your highness. Other than Elder Afton and the healer, only the servants have been admitted."

I stand straight, breathing sharply through my nose. "Very well. Can you at least tell me if he is well? Is he eating? Is he allowing meals to be brought?"

"The healer just left, and there was nothing new to report. He only said to allow His Highness to rest. And yes, My Lady, he has taken his meals."

I nod once. "Would you see to it that someone sends word when he is accepting visitors?"

"Of course, Your Highness," he says with a nod.

Three days pass. For three days, with each changing of the guard, I attempt to see him, and each time, I am refused. Each time, I inquire about his well-being and am assured he is resting, but it does nothing to heal my wounded heart. The piteous looks I receive from the men who turn me away only add to my distress.

Every day, my heart breaks a little more.

I do my best to see it from Edward's perspective; he likely does not wish for me to see him so weak. If only he knew how much I wish to simply be in his presence. I would be content to merely hear his voice.

Elder Afton's attention is on the wounded men who have taken up residence in the castle, so the chantry is empty, leaving me to say my prayers in peace, and I take full advantage of the quiet space to pour out my heart. Not only am I praying for Edward's health, but I pray for Jasper's as well.

I am told he still lives, though his condition continues to be grave. With Edward's life not in any immediate danger, Queen Esme has not left her daughter's side since the men arrived home, only slipping away each sunrise to join me in the chantry to pray.

"I wish there was more I could do for her." The queen shakes her head as she sits beside me on the pew. "She needs to rest, eat, to care for her son, but she refuses to leave her husband's side." She turns to me. "Perhaps you can speak to her?"

My smile is a sad one. "I doubt she would listen to me. And besides, if I were in her place, allowed to be at my husband's bedside, I would not wish to leave either."

Her brow furrows in confusion. "Allowed? He has not allowed you to visit him? Why was I not told he is refusing to see you?" She rises from her seat, and I reach out to gently grasp her arm.

I shake my head. "Please, please do not concern yourself with it, Mother." She slowly lowers herself back to the pew. "As much as it pains me that he will not see me, I understand."

She opens her mouth to speak, but I continue.

"Truly, I do. He is ..." I consider my words carefully. I know he is weak, injured, but I do not wish to speak of him in an unflattering light. "He needs to rest, and I do not wish to disturb him as he heals." I force a smile. "Perhaps he will return to us sooner if I stay away."

She gently squeezes my hand in hers. "Sweet child, I sometimes fear your heart is too gentle for this world. No, my son is being obstinate, stubborn, much like his father can be." She reaches toward me and tilts my chin until I meet her eyes. "What he does not realize is he needs the strength only an attentive wife can give him. I will not stand idly by and allow him to push away what the Gods saw fit to give him." She releases me and rises to her feet.

"Please, do not say anything," I beg. "I do not wish for him to see me only if it is a command." The truth of my own words puts a knot in my throat. "Please," I whisper.

The queen looks down on me with a sad smile. "But why? He could use a reminder of where he can find his strength to move past this ordeal." She draws a breath, as if to speak, but hesitates.

"What is it?"

"Perhaps if he were told about the child you carry, he would want to see you," she says softly. "Men have an innate need to protect what is theirs, to see it with their own eyes, and knowing you carry his child may be just the thing to bring him to his senses."

"I do not wish to disturb him," I say softly, my dispute weak to even my own ears.

She resumes her place beside me. "Even with such joyous news?"

I smile, but it is not a happy one. "I've imagined so many times what it would be like to tell him. The look in his eye, the smile on his face." I shake my head to rid myself of my the daydream. "But maybe you are right." I meet her eyes. "Perhaps hearing about the babe would encourage him to see me."

"Do you wish me to tell him?"

I think of all the options, of all the ways he could find out about his child, and after hearing it from my own lips, coming from his mother is the next best thing. "If he will see you, yes."

"Then I will make sure of it." Wrapping an arm around me, she kisses the side of my head. "Oh, daughter," she says with a sigh. "The men we are tied to are so often seen only as men of war, warriors who lead others into battle. They themselves forget they are mere men; men who need, on occasion, to be cared for." She turns to me, her expression earnest. "And it is our duty to remind them we are their safe harbors in their times of need." She stands, leaning over and kissing the top of my head, whispering, "Remind him why he chose you. Be his strength."

She quietly walks out of the chantry, leaving me to wonder if I will be able to be the strength my husband needs ... and if he will allow it.

Bright light shines through the windows, finding its way past the heavy curtains surrounding my bed.

"Glad to see you so well rested, My Lady, but it is probably best if you don't sleep away the rest of the day."

Angela's enthusiastic greeting as she opens my bed curtains confuses me as I raise my head from my pillow. "Good morning," I say as I rub the sleep from my eyes.

"You've slept straight through the morning, My Lady. It is nearly midday."

"Oh. I did not realize." As I wake more fully, I remember my conversation with Esme just last night. "Has the queen sent word for me?"

Angela nods her head. "She has, My Lady." She reaches into her apron pocket and pulls out a folded parchment, handing it to me.

Daughter,

He allowed me to see him. He is well. Still abed, but he is well. He has been told, but had no reply other than to send me away. I beg of you to go to him. Insist he see you. I fear he is lost in his own personal anguish.

Remember, be his strength.

~Mother

I run my fingers over her heartfelt plea, tears welling in my eyes at the implications they have. It is quite possible he is drowning in his own pain and is too proud to ask for help.

Angela interrupts my inner musings. "You missed the morning meal, but I put together a small plate for you from what was left over."

I clear my throat and blink away my tears. "Thank you."

She smiles over her shoulder at me as she works on stoking the fire. I sit up fully and rest my hand over my middle. Whenever it may be, just after I wake is my favorite time of day; the babe growing within me makes small, gentle movements in the quiet moments after I open my eyes, and it brings a genuine smile to my face.

My smile falls when I think of Edward missing these precious moments as he convalesces. I raise my eyes to my friend. "Has there been any word about my husband?"

She brushes her hands over her apron as she stands, shaking her head. "No, but I don't yet expect to. From what I overheard in the kitchen just this morning, His Highness is now refusing to see anyone—Elder Afton, any of the visiting healers—and he is still abed himself. But I imagine his journey was more than tiring." She smiles softly. "He just may sleep for days."

I return her smile and gratefully take the plate she offers.

"If there is nothing else, I shall leave you to rest, My Lady. Please send for me if you need anything."

"Thank you, Angela," I say, absentmindedly. As I nibble on the offerings on my plate, I mull over the plea in Queen Esme's note.

Go to him.

Be his strength.

Emboldened by her words, I realize what I must do. But as I run a hand over my head, my eyes widen as I realize just how frightful I must look after lying abed nearly all day. There is no way I can ready myself without assistance. I call out. "Angela, wait!"

Her footsteps halt before she reaches the door, and she turns to me. "Yes, My Lady?"

"I need help to dress. I am going to see my husband."

I walk slowly toward his chamber door, and the guard stationed there says nothing. I am sure the queen has spoken to him when he says nothing to stop me. My knuckles rap against the wood, and my heart begins to race as the footsteps within the room grow louder.

The door cracks open, and the face of a servant appears. When recognition dawns, he opens it fully for me to enter.

Edward's chambers are dark as I stride into the siting room, the fire the only light. I am about to ask why the lamps have not been lit when the servant speaks.

"His Highness has not requested an audience with you, My Lady." His quavering voice belies his confident stance.

I nod once. "I am well aware." I swallow my trepidation but try to show my own confidence in my voice. "I wish to see him."

He hesitates, but only for a moment, before motioning me toward Edward's bedchamber.

The room is dark, quiet, much like his sitting room, and not at all full of the bustling activity it was just a few days ago. The fire in the hearth is burning, but it appears not to have been stoked in quite a while. I step toward it, intending to add a log, but a deep, raspy voice stops me in my tracks.

"What are you doing?"

Startled, I turn, looking toward his bed. "Edward?"

The rustle of his bed linens signals his shifting, likely sitting up against his pillows. "Of course, it is me. Is it not my chambers on which you've decided to intrude?"

The drawn curtains create a cave of darkness, but I step toward it, and despite his harsh tone, the pull I feel toward him is as strong as I remember.

"I will ask again. What were you doing?"

I point toward the hearth. "The fire is in need of another log. I was—"

"Leave it, Isabella. I will not have my wife tending to me like a servant, especially when she is—" He heaves a heavy sigh but says nothing more.

Unsure what I should do, I stand stock still, my hands clasped before me. He says no more, though I can feel his eyes on me. The longer he does not speak, the more uncomfortable the silence becomes. Sensing my presence is unwanted, I swallow down the lump in my throat and speak with all the poise I can manage. "I am sorry to have disturbed you, My Lord. I shall take my leave."

I resist the urge to fall to my knees, begging him to allow me to stay, and turn to step toward the door. As my hand reaches the handle, two words—strained and gravelly—are enough to halt my escape.

"Stay ... please."

A/N: So, in her notes, jayhawkbb asked me when Edward was going to stop being a d-bag. Lol. Yeah, it wasn't quite the warm and fuzzy reunion most of you were hoping for. But let's give him the benefit of the doubt. He's been through an awful lot. I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Time for some recs!

A brand new vamp fic is in the works. Shooting Star by one of my lovely pre-readers is off to a great start. It's a post New Moon AU. Summary: Make a wish on a falling star, and your dreams can come true. If only it could be that easy. Years after they left, the Cullens are back. What Bella's heart wants conflicts with her self-preservation and other bumps in her life. Can she trust that he would never leave again?

Recently completed is Desperate Measures by Christi Whitson. I've heard a lot of good things about this vamp fic, but I've not had a chance to read it. It can be found exclusively on her blog, acedfiction dot Wordpress dot com. Summary: When Bella's hallucinations of Edward became her only source of comfort, she had to find new and creative ways to trigger them. Now, Edward is back and determined to earn her trust… and her submission.

And remember, for exclusive weekly teasers and pics, be sure to check out my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics! You can also follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220. 'See' you all soon!

Lots of love

~Sunshine