Disclaimer: The Twilight series is the creative property of Stephenie Meyer. I do not own any of the characters. Any references or quotes from Meyer do not belong to me. This is a fan-based story. In this chapter, several lines come directly from Eclipse. Part of this chapter is sort of a development of what SM writes in Chapter 7 of Eclipse. It is not my intention to plagiarize. No copyright infringement intended.
Author's Note: Thank you everyone for reading and reviewing! It's always a pleasure to hear what you're thinking, so please continue to do so. Reviews jolt my creativity and help make me a better writer.
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"What, my dear Lady Disdain! Are you yet living?"
-William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing (I, i, 18)
The sun was just kissing the treetops when Edward returned, his golden eyes lighter than before.
As he walked through the house, he tried to shut out the horrible screaming coming from the other room. He knew that screaming. Understood it. He had done his share. And he remembered Esme's transformation vividly; remembered the frightening intensity with which she had wished for death.
The sound died out for a moment. Though his voice was barely above a whisper, Edward could easily hear Carlisle on the other side of the door as he tended to Rosalie.
"This is what you are," he murmured. "This is what our family is. It will be difficult for you at first. But you can have a second chance, Rosalie. You can take back what was stolen from you."
Rosalie's breath came in gasps. The disbelief and horror coursing through her was echoed in Edward's mind. He gritted his teeth and pushed open the door.
Esme looked up from where she was kneeling, pressing a cold cloth to the girl's forehead. She smiled at him, hopefully.
Edward scowled at Carlisle who did not look up at his approach. The angry words tumbled from his mouth, "Carlisle, what were you thinking? Rosalie Hale? Don't you think she's just a little recognizable?"
"It was too much waste, Edward," his father told him, his eyes sad.
Rosalie screamed again, the sound strangling in her throat as she fought Esme's cool hands holding her gently against the plush chaise lounge.
Carlisle brushed the hair out of Rosalie's face, "I am so sorry, child. I am so very sorry."
"Please," she begged, her eyes wild. "Please make it stop!"
"It will," Esme soothed her. "It will be over soon."
Rosalie looked at Edward, silently pleading for an end, for death. Her body convulsed violently, uncontrollably. The tenor of her mind was overflowing with suffering and suddenly, the boy couldn't take it anymore. This was not like the suffering of Esme. There was so much more. A lump rose in his throat and he backed out of the room, not stopping to think or speak.
"Edward!" Esme called alarmed.
He ran through the house, his arm splintering the wood paneling on the wall as he passed.
"Edward!"
He did not stop, but ran on, through the woods and over the river, until Esme's cries and Rosalie's pain were much too far away to hear.
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For Rosalie, it felt as if time had stopped. There was no moving forward, no change…only pain. Minutes turned into hours. One day and then another passed. Through the haze, she remembered what Carlisle said. Three days. Surely it had been three days. She wished she could ask but Dr. Cullen had left for the hospital and Mrs. Cullen for a Ladies Aid meeting. Both had promised to return soon. Rosalie was quite sure she couldn't take another hour of this kind of torture.
Another wave of nausea and fire swept through her and she drew a deep, ragged breath in, fighting the moan in her throat.
A breeze, light and sweet-smelling, distracted her. She turned her head on the sofa, wincing at the ache. The door had opened and Edward stood there, his handsome face conflicted as he swallowed once, looking down at her with something like irritation.
"I apologize for disturbing you," he said formally. "I just need a book."
Carlisle's study had been turned into a bedroom for Rosalie but ceiling-high bookshelves still lined the mahogany-colored walls.
She struggled to nod, the burning in her throat and behind her eyes almost unbearable.
Edward walked past her into the room, his eyes on a row of tomes near the heavily-draped window.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice sounding bored.
Rosalie deliberated for half a second before speaking, "Please."
Edward's hand froze in mid-air, his eyes still focused on the books over his head.
"Please," she said again, her voice shaking. "I can-cann-n-n-not do this anymore. If you c-care…at all…"
Edward turned slowly towards her, his expression pained. He had already heard the question phrased in her head.
"K-ki-ill me. Pl-pl-ease." She stretched a hand out towards him, trembling.
Edward shook his head.
"Please!" she begged again, feeling tears gathering behind her eyes. Strangely enough, they did not fall. They seemed trapped inside of her. She tried to push them out, the ache and burn of them bothering her more than before.
"You can't cry," Edward told her, his face twisting with misplaced humor. "You won't ever be able to cry again."
Rosalie opened her mouth and shut it again. Her face was white, all the blood seemingly drained from it.
"That's good," he went on, his eyes guarded. "That means it's almost over." He turned to go but the panic in Rosalie's thoughts made him pause in the doorway.
"Wait!" she said, her voice breaking. "Don't leave me."
Edward sighed and turned back to her.
"What's going to happen to me?" Her beautiful eyes were bright with fear. Edward noted with grim satisfaction that they were not blue anymore but a brilliant violet color.
Rosalie took his silence as reluctance. "Please. I…I want to know."
"The pain will become more intense…focused," he told her, unwillingly.
"Yes?"
"Shortly, your heart rate will speed up." He paused before going on, "And then it will stop."
As if on cue, Rosalie's breath grew more shallow, labored. Her body shook, wracked with an unseen fire. She screamed, digging her nails into the couch.
Willing himself to move, Edward sat at her head, pulling her roughly up to his chest. He braced himself as her entire being seized in his arms.
Rosalie screamed again, the tearless sobs coming quickly now. She grasped frantically at Edward, her fingers pulling at his collar. There was a ripping sound as she pulled an entire section of fabric off his shoulder.
Her long thin arms went around his neck, the wide sleeves of Esme's silk dressing gown falling back to reveal shoulders white as bone.
She buried her face in his side, shuddering as the change grew more and more pronounced.
Edward held her tightly, closing his eyes. His mouth formed a thin, hard line as she begged, "Please kill me! God, Edward, kill me!"
It would be soon now. Her breathing was becoming more and more pronounced. Gasp. Gasp. Gasp. Gasp gasp. Gasp gasp gasp gasp.
"I…" she said, terrified, turning her face up to his. "I don't want to die."
And then she was still, her eyes staring open, blank, empty…and a fiery red. Her body lay limp against him, lifeless. Edward was struck by a vaguely familiar feeling. Loss. Strange.
It was another moment and then, a new kind of animation possessed the still form. Rosalie's pupils shifted and her body arched once.
Edward let go of her automatically.
Rosalie stood, as in a trance, looking about the room as if she had never seen it before.
She moved lithely, more gracefully than she had in life. Even Rosalie could feel that. Everything around her seemed to have slowed down. She could suddenly hear and see everything as if she had never used her ears or eyes before. Her gaze focused suddenly on a spider hanging suspended in the window sill, twenty feet away. She could see it now in its entirety, see its millions of tiny eyes, the hairs wrapped along each of its eight spindly legs, even the individual fibers of its silken thread.
The air around her felt thick, pointless. She realized with shock that she did not need it as she once had. She breathed in once just to be sure.
She was struck then by the slant of the setting sun through the window, its beam bouncing across the rug. She reached a white hand out into its warm, low rays. The diamonds issuing off her skin in bright, sharp prisms startled her. She whirled to stare at Edward who now stood, silent and unmoving, beside the door.
"Yes, my skin does that, too," he answered her unspoken thoughts.
But Rosalie was immediately distracted, her ear pricked at something she heard outside the walls of the house. A steady thud, a gentle pulsing of liquid under muscles and bone. She turned quickly. Too quickly.
"Be careful," Edward warned her. "You don't know your own…"
A stack of books flew off the shelf and across the room, slamming into the opposite wall. There was a cracking sound as the wood broke.
"Strength," Edward sighed.
Rosalie lifted her hands to her face, holding them quite close to herself, as if afraid of their power.
"You must learn to move slowly," Carlisle said, entering the room with small, quiet steps. "It will feel strange at first, as if you are walking through deep mud."
Esme was only a step or two behind.
Rosalie tensed slightly at their presence. She backed up several paces, as if to defend herself.
"It's alright, Rosalie. How are you feeling? It's difficult to get used to, I know. It's normal to feel afraid." Carlisle held up a hand to show he meant no harm.
She seemed to consider his words for a moment before another rushing, thudding noise moved outside the house. She breathed in, instinctively, and a small growl pushed its way through her lips. Surprised, she covered her mouth with her hands.
"That's normal, too," Edward said, amused.
But Rosalie wasn't listening anymore. She growled again, crouching, her hands moving around her throat as if something chafed there. Her red eyes seemed to pulse with the smells and sounds of the world outside. She looked at the three older vampires, her eyes wild and confused.
"You're thirsty," Carlisle explained.
She nodded.
"You need to hunt. Edward can show you."
Edward shot his father a puzzled look and then, as his father's thoughts became clear, the look turned from confusion to shock and embarrassment. His plan was all too clear to Edward.
"Carlisle…" he muttered, his teeth grinding together.
Carlisle went on as if he hadn't heard him, "It's important that you learn to control your thirst in a way that doesn't hurt humans."
"Yes, Edward is a wonderful teacher," Esme said, encouragingly.
Rosalie looked uncertainly from face to face, finally resting on Edward's strained expression. "Edward…" she repeated, speaking for the first time. With surprise, she reached for her throat again. The musical sound was surprising, unexpected.
Edward was still looking at Carlisle, incredulously, "You can't be serious! This is some kind of aging vampire humor…some strange joke I'm not in on, correct?"
"Edward," Esme chided, motioning to Rosalie, who stood looking very lost.
The boy sighed, his eyes never leaving Carlisle's, "Fine. Keep up." He took off, streaking through the open door.
Rosalie bit her lip but followed him, her first steps hesitant. She was surprised to find that she was fast, almost as fast as Edward. A small flash of pride surged through her. She warmed at the feeling. It felt familiar.
And suddenly, she was out of doors, the dusky night falling quickly now like a purple blanket. She wondered if she should feel afraid of the darkness. She didn't.
Edward had disappeared in the trees but Rosalie found that she could, of all things, smell him. He was quite easy to track.
When she made it to his side, he had frozen at the edge of a clearing, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, arms crossed over his chest. Rosalie noticed the tendons in his forearms stood out against the ivory of his skin. Standing there, so still…he could have been made of ivory.
Suddenly, the burn in her throat was sharper. She turned, listening to a distant heartbeat. "I want that," she snarled.
"It's a deer," he told her.
Rosalie stared toward the thicket where she could smell hot blood churning through the animal's body. She tensed instinctively and then paused. She looked up at Edward, her eyes questioning.
He rolled his eyes. "Like this," he said, crouching beside her.
She mimicked him, ruby red lips pulled back to reveal gleaming white teeth. She was poised to leap when she caught a whiff of something else.
"Stop breathing," Edward ordered.
"Why?" Rosalie demanded.
"Because that's not an animal you're smelling."
The red in her eyes seemed to intensify, "But I want it."
"Of course you do. But you can't have it."
She glared, growling openly at him, "But I want it."
"Yes. But that is not a new hat. And I am not your father," Edward looked impatient.
Rosalie straightened up to her full height. Edward did, too.
"Do you think you can stop me?" she challenged, her expression growing wild.
"Yes," he said calmly. "But I really don't want to have to."
She studied his expression for a moment and then relaxed her position. "Fine." And then she snarled and took a flying leap over Edward's head and toward the intoxicating smell.
Edward groaned inwardly as he whirled, seconds ahead of her and caught her leg mid-air. He threw her newly indestructible form to the ground, landing neatly over her. He tensed to anticipate her next move. "I can't let you do that."
"Why? You don't care what happens to me."
"You're right," he agreed. "But Carlisle will be angry if I left you kill someone on your first hunting trip."
"You hate me," she said. It was a not question.
"You hate me," he pointed out.
Rosalie shook her head, her blond curls framing her perfect face, "That's different. I hate everyone."
Edward's mouth twisted in a crooked smile.
The mouth-watering smell Rosalie had encountered hit her again and she struggled to escae.
"Oh, no, you don't," he said, dragging her backwards as she kicked and fought, knocking him down once or twice.
She finally managed to get to her feet. She turned on him, ready for a fight.
"Rosalie..." he warned.
With a swift kick, she sent him flying through the trees.
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Author's note: What do you guys think? Leave a review and let me know! Comments and suggestions always welcome.