A/N: A day and four cups of wine late, I am finally posting this chapter! I just want to say how thankful I am that you guys are so patient with me, and even more so how much I appreciate your encouraging words. Thanks to the great consulting and work of SunflowerFran, I should be posting a chapter next weekend! I won't keep you long, and I apologize for any mistakes during this author's note (again, the wine has been flowing), but I assure you this chapter was not corrected post-wine. And let me just say, as a comment for after you finish this chapter -I know, some of you totally predicted this. Okay, before I do anymore damage, read on and enjoy!
PART II: PIGEON
Chapter 18
Wriggling around on her sheets, Bella tries to avoid scratching her inflamed skin. It would be just her luck that the night before Cialori the minor rash on her back had developed into painful hives. It felt as if someone was holding a candle a few centimeters from her skin and refused to grant her relief. Quil's ointment had provided some comfort, but there was only so much he could apply. The rash had fully bloomed over a week ago, and even after being treated would return with a vengeance each day.
While it is discomforting, Bella can't blame the inflammation for her lack of sleep. In truth, the past two weeks had been a series of sleepless nights and dragging days. Not only did Bella miss Edward with every fiber of her being, but she also was exhausted from tending to Charlotte. The young Princess was experiencing what could only be classified as post-traumatic episodes, and would wake up screaming each night. It came to the point that Bella no longer slept in her own bed. She simply changed into her nightgown and then dozed in a cushioned rocking chair she'd brought into Charlotte's room. The long days and even longer nights at the Princess's side mean that Bella has little time to spend in her natural state. Her aurimento isn't nearly as bad as it had been the first time she went without transforming, but she's been feeling a bit lethargic as of late.
Last night, or rather this early morning, she was finally able to convince Charlotte to sleep with Lua. Initially, her large cat wasn't particularly pleased to be uprooted from Bella's plush new bed, but once Lua realized she'd have the luxury of Charlotte's room, she quickly acquiesced. This is how Bella finds herself squirming alone in her sheets the morning of Cialori.
The drawn blinds prevent her from revealing the color of the sun, so she throws on a light shawl before heading to the window. She prays that the sun will not be green. If it is green, it means that there will be an attempt on the Princess' life at some point in the day. Holding her breath, she grips the edges of the curtains and then yanks them apart.
The room is flooded in blue.
Bella is barely able to release a jubilant squeal when a knock sounds at her door. As she dresses in her robe, she checks to make sure all of her features are in order before answering. To her surprise, a bright-faced Seth stands before her.
"Bella!" he cheers, "Buo Cialori!"
"Buo Cialori," she responds in kind, "Although I believe today will be extra good for you. I should have asked you what color to pick."
Seth's grin is wide as he glances down at his blue ensemble, "I'm going to ask if I can sit next to Prince Edward."
Bella purses her lips as she tries to hold in a laugh, "How old are you, Seth?"
"I'll be ten in nine months, Miss Bella," he answers proudly.
Bella rolls her eyes internally; children will round their age up even if a year remains until their next birthday.
"Well, that seems an acceptable age to sit beside the Crown Prince," Bella agrees, "And you know what?"
"What?" Seth asks.
"The Prince owes me a favor, so I will personally see to it that you are seated beside him," Bella promises.
Seth's eyes widen substantially, "Really, Miss Bella?"
"Really," she chuckles, "Now, I suppose you have a letter for me?"
"You're kind of right, Miss Bella, I have something for you, but it's not a letter. No, it's not a letter it's just a message. A really short one actually," Seth corrects, "But things are getting mighty serious between the Forxian and Cullenian border and people aren't taking too kindly to sending mail. I suppose that's the reason your Ms. Brandon sent this word for you."
Again, Bella is positive he hasn't taken another breath since the beginning of his words.
"All right, let's have it then," Bella prompts.
Seth's eyes glimmer slightly as he focuses, but the flash only lasts a moment. It never occurred to Bella that Seth's ability might tie into his place as the court mail carrier, but she realizes she doesn't know much about the chatty boy. All she knows from their handful of encounters is that he's from a small town in Forxx, has ten brothers and sisters, and is infatuated with Edward. Each time that she has spoken with him since their first meeting two weeks ago, he has somehow related the conversation to the Crown Prince. Not that Bella minds, she could talk about Edward for the whole day. This aside, she knows no personal information about him. He seems to be out of touch with the present when he gives his message.
"It's time to come home," he relays. Then his gaze refocuses, and his merry smile returns.
"Who did you say that came from?" Bella verifies.
"From Ms. Brandon," Seth repeats, "Would you like to hear it again?"
"No, that isn't necessary," Bella murmurs, distracted by the news. "Thank you, Seth."
"Where's home for you, Miss Bella?" Seth asks, "Is it Forxx? If it is, you should look for the Acu'lita family. That's my family. You'd have tons of fun with them. I know they'd like you too. I only say this because I heard some of the servants talking about how you didn't have a house to sleep in before you came here, and I know you're Volturian, but you came from Forxx so I thought -."
"Seth, thank you so much for your kind offer, and if I ever do go to Forxx I will make sure to look for your family," Bella stops him, "However, I need to tend to the Princess so I'll have to be on my way. Buo Cialori."
"Buo Cialori!" Seth bids just as Bella shuts the door.
She barely has a moment to catch her breath as she sinks against her bedroom wall. It's time to come home, but when? Bella shrieks internally. Why on earth would Alice send such an incomplete message, and exactly how can Bella suddenly leave the castle with no reason and so little money to her name? Furthermore, the prophecy hasn't been fulfilled, and Bella would never forgive herself if Charlotte were harmed after she left. On the other hand, Bella doesn't know what will happen if she ignores the prophecy.
What if this is part of the prophecy? Perhaps Alice's message is the signal that it's time for Bella to reveal the dangers that the Cullen's face. But, why now? What has changed that will make the Cullens more believing of her news than they would have been a week or two ago? What if she reveals her true identity and is accused of treason (for the second time in her life, she might add)? Questions upon questions pile up in Bella's mind as she rakes her fingers through her hair, a trademark she's picked up from Edward in times of stress.
Edward.
He's the difference between this week and the last, and the weeks before this. Her relationship with him has strengthened tenfold, and if she leaves him, she knows a part of her will never recover. How would she explain to him that she needed to go and that it was for his safety? How can the last few words she says to him be a lie?
Friendship is nothing without trust … She replays his words from early on in their relationship and feels overwhelmed with shame. Edward had been nothing but truthful with her since the moment she'd met him, but she hadn't been able to extend the same courtesy. Even though she trusts him with her life, she has been lying to him from day one.
He doesn't even know her true name.
Bella holds back angry tears as she fists the sides of her skirt. She imagines the fabric is a better outlet than the roots of her hair, but a dull pain in the center of her palm catches her attention. She reaches into her pocket to retrieve the rings that she keeps close for safe keeping and feels a sense of clarity wash over her as she picks out Aro's signet ring. Her plan solidifies as she turns the bulky golden piece of jewelry in her hand, studying the red stone that frames the imprint of the Volturian crest. As she slips the ring back into her pocket, she knows what she has to do.
She has to reveal the truth to Edward when he returns. Tonight.
~pigeon~
Bella smoothes the skirt of her dress and fiddles with her hair consciously as Charlotte gets her makeup done. While Charlotte's garb is an extravagant ensemble with a large, flowing skirt and a jeweled collar line, Bella's dress is a replica of her handmaiden dress, but in a deep wine-red. Her pearled hairclip had been replaced with a headband studded with rubies, and her brown locks have been styled into bodacious curls. Charlotte had wanted to spoil her with several more jewels and vibrant lip stain, but Bella objected. She already felt out of place in such formal wear. The only thing grounding her is the feel of her dagger strapped to the outside of her calf, and the two rings nestled in her pocket.
"I'm still upset that I guessed the wrong color, but I must say we make a stunning pair," Charlotte appraises as she skips to Bella's side. It appears Lua's presence had helped with her slumber, as the Princess seems well rested today. The past two weeks of nightmares and lacking an appetite had resulted in her losing quite a bit of weight, as well as, being thoroughly exhausted. The Queen had almost forced Charlotte to take sedatives, but her daughter had adamantly refused. For a while, Heidi would lay with Charlotte until she could fall asleep, but once Charlotte's episodes began taking a toll on her mother, Bella was relegated to night duty. Despite the residual tiredness and slight aurimento, Bella didn't mind watching over Charlotte. She felt as if the young Princess were more of a sister to her than her charge.
"It is you who is stunning, Charlie," Bella compliments, "You are rather enthusiastic about this ball. I take it you are a fan of the festivities?"
A flicker of insecurity passes Charlotte's features, but she seems to work past it as she begins to say, "In truth, I never really liked them. Mother and Father would always be socializing with their peers and Alec and Edward stuck to themselves. I didn't have anyone to interact with. But I feel this year, with you, will be different."
Bella tries to tamper her emotions as she replies, "Yes, I imagine these events would be much more bearable with a friend. I'm honored to share the night with you."
Charlotte smiles timidly and turns back to her mirror to inspect her features. The next thirty minutes are spent ensuring that Charlotte's appearance is flawless, as well as reviewing the proper etiquette for a royal function. Bella's role wouldn't change much; she would be required to assist Charlotte with anything she needed, and when instructed, would perform a set of songs for the audience. With her new position as Charlotte's handmaiden, her performances before the royal family had greatly decreased, but every now and then, a royal member would request to hear from her. She had even sung for Heidi and Felix when they had an intimate dinner to commemorate their years as King and Queen. This would be a much larger performance than Bella had ever done, but she doesn't feel nervous. If tonight is truly to be her last night under the guise of 'Bella' then she will enjoy it for all it's worth.
The sound of trumpets blaring from the front of the castle startles both Charlotte and Bella. Charlotte looks confused before recognition settles in.
"Edward's home!" she cheers.
"I thought he was meant to return tonight -," Bella panics, but her words fall on absent ears. Charlotte has already bolted from her seat, and Bella has to gather her skirts in her hand, in order to chase after the racing Princess.
They meet a crowd once they reach the opening archways of the castle, at the head of which is the King and Queen. The procession arrives, a streak of blue, white, and gold painted on banners and the helmets of soldiers. The convoy stops, and from its center emerges Edward, dressed regally in the national colors and smiling blindingly as he gracefully demounts his steed. Charlotte wastes no time in sprinting forth to her brother and leaping into his awaiting embrace. He keeps an arm wrapped around her tightly as he greets his parents; a clap on the back from his father, and a warm kiss from his mother.
Then his eyes meet hers.
For a moment, Bella is paralyzed. She can't sink into a curtsey or bow, in the same way all the surrounding subjects do. All that she is capable of thinking is that he's here. He's here, and he's the most beautiful person she's had the pleasure of knowing, and in a few moments, she's going to ruin all of the kinships they share. It's only when Edward raises a brow that she remembers she should be bowing to her Prince, so she hastily lowers her head in a sign of respect. Only when he passes, does she allow herself to breathe.
When Charlotte rejoins her, she tucks a small slip of paper into Bella's palm, and says, "Take your time with him. I'll go bother Demetri."
Bella quirks her brow in confusion as she unfurls the scrap that reads,
Meet me on the beach.
She would smile at his antics if it weren't for the foreboding pit that sits in her stomach. Her insignia itches with the stress of the situation, and she resists the urge to scratch at it. She'd thought she'd have more time to formulate her words before confronting Edward, but she knows she can't delay her plan any longer. Even if it means that Edward will never forgive her for lying, she needs to protect his family.
Slowly, and savoring each step she takes through the castle, Bella makes her way to the beach. Standing at the shoreline is Edward, back to her as he takes in the crashing waves. The air is frigid; cold enough to redden her cheeks and nose, and create numbness in her hands. She wraps her shawl more tightly around herself as she approaches him.
Every witty greeting she'd intended on meeting him with dies on her lips as she murmurs, "Edward?"
He turns to her, smile as bright as before. In two long strides, he makes his way to her and then tugs her into an engulfing embrace. She immediately returns the gesture, tightly wrapping her arms around his waist. They remain in each other's arms; the harsh wind around them the only sound pervading the moment. Bella wants more than anything to stay in this bubble, but she can't. She has a duty to fulfill.
"You're back early," Bella notes.
"I told you I would be back in time," he says as he draws back, "And truthfully, I was too miserable to spend another moment away. The captain forced the crew to leave early so he could get rid of me."
Bella forces a laugh, "Couldn't wait to come home to mother?"
Edward shakes his head with a knowing smile, "No. I couldn't wait to come back to you."
Bella's blood adds to the redness of her face as she blushes furiously, "Edward, I-."
"Wait, let me go first," Edward takes a shaky breath as if preparing himself. "I've had friends before you; confidantes that I have known for my life, and would trust until death. And whenever I think of them, and then think of you, I realize that you are not my friend. I know what friendship feels like."
Heartbreak threatens the edges of Bella's conscious, but when Edward continues to speak, she realizes that she's misinterpreted his words.
"You are more, Bella," he reveals, "So much more to me than anyone I've considered to be a friend. I think about you day and night. I scour the halls at odd times of the day just to run into you. I feel anguished when I know that you are hurting. I … I lust after you in ways I never have a woman before. I want more than just friendship with you if you'll have me."
"Edward, no," Bella shakes her head, "You can't. You don't know me."
"Because of the short time we've known each other? My father knew my mother all of three days before he proposed to her," Edward laughs, "I'm not asking for a proposal. I'm asking for a chance to court you. I know our worlds are different, but there is more to us than our stations. In the time we've had together, I've seen what a sharp, fierce, and loving woman you are, and that's all I care about. Nothing else matters."
"But it does," Bella objects, tears welling in her eyes, "Once you know-,"
"The only think I need to know is whether you feel even a fraction of the way I do?" he asks.
Bella was mistaken. She'd thought Edward's rejection would spur her heartbreak, but this isn't the case. It's his declaration that has her heart beginning to crack. There is no worse feeling than being confronted with the opportunity of love, and knowing that you can't take it. And though Bella knows she should reject him, she can't do it. She'd already promised herself that she was done lying to Edward.
"Yes," she finally admits, "I do-."
Her words are cut off as his lips collide with hers. To say that Bella is surprised is a massive understatement. The softness of his lips is over-powered by the electricity that rushes through her system. It bursts from low in her stomach, and spreads outward, engulfing her body in throngs of energy. And while, to another person, this feeling could be solely attributed to the lust and amazement at receiving their first kiss, unfortunately for Bella, this is not the case.
In her reality, the flooding of energy that overtakes her is a loss of control over her absorption. Through her connection to his lips and his hand at the back of her neck, Bella drains Edward of his energy with one powerful surge. Before she can comprehend what has happened, Edward is already crumbling at her feet.
"Edward!" she shrieks in terror, dropping to her knees immediately. She reaches out a trembling hand to him but stops midway.
It's her fault. Touching him was what had brought her to this horrendous moment.
All of her senses silence. She is no longer aware of the grains of sand grating against her knees or the ebbing tide that pulls at the skirt of her dress. The biting air is no match for her heatless skin. Her vision narrows to almost a pinhole-sized aperture, only allowing her to see minuscule dots of blue light. Even her chest stills with the absence of her breaths.
"The Prince has been harmed!"
These words barely register to Bella until several guards surround her. Three tend to an unconscious Edward while two reach for her.
"No, no, you can't take me away from him," Bella cries, as she backs away from them "I have to be with him. I have to explain. I have to-."
She has to make sure he's still alive.
"You are under arrest for an attack on the Crown Prince," one of the guards declares. "Surrender or be subdued."
"If any of you touch me I will kill you on the spot," Bella seethes, completely prepared to follow through with the threat.
The guard exchanges a look with his comrade, who then steps forward with a solemn expression. All it takes is a wave of his hand to render Bella unconscious.
~pigeon~
Bella is slightly groggy as she wakes, but even amidst her confusion, she knows that she is in the Cullen Castle dungeon. The pungent, musty odor, windowless walls, and the tall, black iron slab that detain her clue her into her location. Only a strip of blue light filters through the hole used to deliver feeding trays. As soon as she's able, Bella gathers the energy to attempt escaping. Of course, the guards had removed her dagger from her calf, so she's unable to make use of it. So she pounds against the iron door of her imprisonment until the sides of her fists are numb from contact. When that proves futile, she uses her feet. In the back of her mind, she knows that she doesn't have the strength to break down an iron door, but her heart tells her to keep trying. She can't give up. She needs to know whether or not Edward regained consciousness.
She begins with her fists again, her abused skin now covered in speckles of blood. She also uses her mind to shove against the slab of metal, but it's as if she's mentally running into a wall. Frustration and anger spur her to continue for almost ten minutes until she has no choice but to stop pounding.
She decides to try peeking through the tray slot. The opening is just three centimeters high, so she is able to catch sight of a few items in the room, such as the patrol guard's chair, a desk, and a bottle that sits atop it. Unfortunately, there are no keys in sight. Not caring for who might be in the immediate vicinity, she beings hurling the items left and right. The bottle immediately crashes against the wall, but the wooden desk and chair take a few bashes to destroy completely. It does what she intends, and draws the attention of the guard. However, to her dismay, peering through the opening in the slot she can tell it is the same one who had rendered her unconscious earlier.
"You will stop this immediately," he warns.
"You have to listen to me. Everything is not as it appears," Bella rushes, as she freely transforms into her natural state, "I am Isabelle Marie Volturi, daughter of Aro Volturi and I have an important message for the Prince. Open the door and see for yourself."
The guard scoffs, and to be quite honest, Bella doesn't blame him. The explanation sounds foolish even to her ears.
"That is certainly the most original excuse I've heard," the guard snorts, "If you don't behave yourself, I'll be putting you to sleep again. Perhaps permanently."
"I know it sounds ridiculous, but you have to believe me," she begs, "Here is his signet ring-,"
What should have been a show of proof is seen as a threat. The moment Bella's fingers peep through the feeding slot, she's hit with a wave of lethargy. It's weaker than the last, but it does its job successfully. Within moments, Bella falls asleep.
When Bella awakes, the almost nonexistent filter of light alerts her to the late time. If it is now night; she must have been sleeping for hours. Surely, the Queen, King, and Charlotte must have heard of what happened. They must loathe her. Especially if she killed …
A guttural cry escapes from Bella. It is like no other sound she has ever released, a painful discord to the melodious tunes she normally sings. It's followed by a refrain of sobs, an interlude of screams, and an encore of nonsensical words. Though Bella is the only prisoner in this sector of the dungeon, her song rivals the laments of twenty men.
How could she have failed so disastrously?
Bella had followed the commands, prophecies, and duties that everyone had bestowed on her, and the one time she wanted to claim something for her own, it had gone fatally wrong. Was fate really so cruel as to deny her any form of true freedom; the kind of freedom that involves being with whom you love? Is Bella destined to merely be a pawn in the grander scheme of destiny, never allowed to live as a fully, self-autonomous person? She had already agreed to give up her life to save the nations, but Edward's was never a question in the deal.
Now it doesn't matter. Nothing she has done up to this moment matters because not only has she lost the one person she felt she could spend forever with, she's also failed at protecting the Cullens. Whatever nefarious plans Aro has for them, she will be unable to do a thing. For surely, by tomorrow morning, the Cullens will have her executed for treason.
Jane, Alice, Jasper, Peter, Claire, Bree, Charlotte, Alec, Edward … she lists the people that she'll be unable to bid farewell to. Her time with them was short; a mere season in the expanse of their lives. She wonders if she's left the same imprint on them as they have on her.
Imprint …
Lua.
"Lua!" Bella gasps, immediately sending an onslaught of thoughts to her telepathically connected friend. She's never tried to communicate with the bird over such a far distance, but she hopes with all of her being that Lua can pick up on her brain signals. The dungeon is completely silent as Bella focuses on contacting Lua, picturing, to the best of her ability where she believes herself to be. She knows the location of the prison from some of the lunellas mentioning it in passing but doesn't know how to direct her sidekick to any open passages. All she can impart are vague images and general directions.
An unknown amount of time passes before she starts to lose hope. She slumps against the cell door, face pressed to its cool surface, tears beginning to fall once more. Her energy is depleted and her body is exhausted, a residual effect of the aurimento she had been experiencing. She also knows that the aurimento is the main cause of her lack of control with Edward. Though she would have been startled by his kiss on any other occasion, her slight instability meant that she couldn't take hold of her absorption in time. Now that she's been in her transformed state for a few hours, she isn't as drained as before. Although she can't help but think maybe, succumbing to her aurimento would be a more forgiving fate than being executed by the Cullens.
The sound of the dungeon door opening interrupts her thoughts. Suspense builds with every heavy step that is taken toward her until the person stops at her door. Bella is surprised to hear that it's Demetri when he speaks.
"Sola Bella," he greets.
"Demetri," she breathes, "You have to help me."
"Actually, you're right where I want you," he answers.
Bella is suddenly filled with confusion, "Pardon?"
"I've spent too many years trying to get where I am," he continues, "I cannot risk you ruining my plans, especially with your attempt on Prince Edward's life. You're a complication, and your being imprisoned has made my task easier."
"What task?" Bella asks, "Of what are you speaking?"
"The best part," he resumes without acknowledging her, "Is that you've given me a formidable ally and you didn't even know it. So thank you, Sola Bella. Your end is quite unfortunate, but you have served a worthy cause. Let your death be swift and painless."
He says nothing else before strutting off and leaving Bella in a cloud of confusion. In all her time at the castle that was the most Demetri had said directly to her. The only time they'd had a semblance of a conversation had been when she'd addressed him about Carmen's final words.
Traitor, she had uttered.
Bella gasps in horror at her foolishness. She had made a fatal mistake in trusting the emotions Demetri displayed in the hall that day. It had all been manipulation, and it doesn't come as a surprise to Bella that he would be perfect at the art of deception. He has spent over two decades worming his way into the trust of the Cullens and securing a position in which he has perfect access to the Princess. His silent, unassuming personality had left him completely under Bella's radar, not to mention the way he'd patiently bided his time. The only indications of his scheme were Carmen's words in her final moments of life. Carmen hadn't accused Demetri of treachery for what he had done to her, but for what he was going to do to Charlotte.
"Lua!" Bella screams, "Lua, please, I know you can do this. I know you can find me. Listen to my voice. Come and find me."
She chants this ceaselessly, all the while beginning her onslaught of fists against the door. What passes feels to be another twenty minutes of relentless calling, willing for her avian friend to appear. Bella creates such a ruckus that she almost misses a sound as it originates from behind her door.
A chirp.
"Lua," she cries. "Lua, you need to find the keys. Do you understand me?"
Lua titters in response and then flies off in search of them. For the first time tonight, Bella feels a semblance of genuine hope. If she can get out of this prison in time, she can stop Demetri from harming Charlotte. Then she can go find Edward because if there was one thing that had stuck out to her from Demetri's spiel, it was that he'd accused her of making an attempt on Edward's life.
He could still be alive.
Terminology
Buo Cialori –Merry/Happy Cialori! [Cullenian]
"Life and death are illusions. We are in a constant state of transformation." - Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu
