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Edward considers himself the leader of his family mainly because of his conflict resolution skills. Then there is the alternative diet which unites them; a lifestyle that he and Carlisle discovered inadvertently. But the truth is no one is more suited to leading, guiding, shaping the course of their future. Aedwaerth Caledonii was born to lead, and his family members couldn't agree more.

Besides his immense age and wisdom Edward has a commanding presence that has little to do with his physicality. The intangibles of his posture, the soft steel of his voice, his manifest intuition, and the quality of his character are invaluable tools, having helped his family in more occasions than they'd care to admit. He stifles a laugh remembering Jasper, upon their initial acquaintance, strongly resisting the impulse to call him Sir.

But Edward doesn't relish the tasks appointed to him. Rather, he acts in accordance with his judgement on how to best care for those he loves. And therein lies the true heart of a leader: selflessness.

It is for all these reasons, and more, that he is romping through the forest towards La Push, and the Quileute Reservation.

The family has been in Forks for a few weeks, and after just a few days began discovering unusual and unique things in the local area. First, there was the repellent smell west of town which, despite their curiosity at such an anomaly, they studiously avoided. Secondly, Alice was experiencing was Emmett was referring to as "blackouts" in her visions. In other words, total removal of her second sight for short periods. Alice is completely nonplussed and, as only Edward and Jasper know, somewhat frightened. Third is the large, completely unfamiliar and definitely disconcerting tracks they have found covering the local area, again, mainly to the west of town. There's no doubt it's a predator, due to the mostly eaten herbivore carcasses they keep finding, but its all the wrong shape for a bear and much too large for a wolf or coyote. Then there is the spacing of the prints, which implies the animal must be moving at a pace that rivals vampire speed. The final straw is almost comical, and Edward might not be traipsing through the forest in aimless search if Rosalie hadn't answered the phone earlier this evening.

A male with a deep voice had dialed the house phone at 11:00pm, about two hours ago. The conversation went like this:

"Can I speak to your leader?" His terseness was matched only by his rude tone.

After laughing at the unusual request, the most volatile Cullen responds, "Who says that? What do you want, freak?"

"Who are you calling a freak, you bloodsucking whore?" Edward and Emmett, playing video games intently, are on their feet and at the phone next to Rosalie almost instantly. For her part, she responds appropriately and quickly, "Who is this? What do you want, asshole?"

Edward subvocalizes a grunt of displeasure at her obscenities, knowing it will do nothing but incense the mysterious caller.

"Just stay off Quileute land, leech." Click.

After an intense, heated family discussion on the matter they had come to an agreement that the caller and the other mysteries of Forks must be correlated. Alice put two and two together when, just after deciding to take a stroll through the reservation, Edward's future went completely blank. Quelling Esme's and Alice's fears about going alone was less difficult than convincing Jasper and Emmett that he didn't need their help. But he does both, reminding Alice that her visions have always returned, and he'll keep her speed dial punched in on the keypad of his phone. He tells Emmett and Jasper that they look too intimidating, that he doesn't want them scaring the as-yet-undefined-creatures off. He would have gotten away with the lie if he wasn't broadcasting smug amusement as he walked out the front door. Carlisle knows to let him go, trusts him to return with a satisfactory resolution. He's seen the firsthand evidence of Edward's ability to defend himself, has been with him long enough to know that he prefers the lone warrior approach. If it comes to blows, Carlisle mainly worries for the other guys, whatever they may be.

There is a darker reasoning behind Edward's demand for solitude in this task. He would never risk his family, and considers his own life insignificant. It's not that he doesn't care if he lives or dies, it's simply that he is realizing that he has little reason to continue his existence in the way that he has before. Which has put him in quite a conflicted state since he's always hated nihilists.

Edward beelines for First Beach, knowing whatever is making those tracks won't be as comfortable in water as he is, so he has an exit strategy. And since following orders is not in him, it pleases him that the beach is right in the heart of the reservation: a petty, but symbolic act of defiance. When he starts hearing heavy footfalls, panted animal breathing and low growls they are several miles away, and he begins to search for thoughts with his mind. He has a theory that these beasts must be tamed and tied to the Quileutes if nothing else. What he hears is staggering, and fascinating.

There are three of the horse-sized wolves, and their thoughts come in triplicate, an originator with two echoes: another form of telepathy. What makes their thoughts even more intriguing is the undercurrent of animal instinct. From the timbre of their minds they are clearly human and they think of themselves as human, but he can also hear their reaction to his scent, their anger at being ignored and the instinctual pack cooperation and coordination.

In a matter of seconds, Edward has discerned their nature, temperament, and intentions, and has devised a suitable plan. He genuinely likes Forks, especially his meadow, and wants to stay. Establishing an amicable relationship is priority number one. As they draw closer for the kill, Edward sits down in the sand, Indian style(which brings a small grin to his face), and says aloud, "Sam, Paul, Jared... my name is Edward Cullen. May I speak with you for a moment?"

At first, the wolves think the lone vampire must have a death wish. When they hear their names, and see the vampire's relaxed posture and facial expression, they are thrown for a loop. Surprise and suspicion are awash in their thoughts; the only thing keeping them from pouncing and ripping Edward to shreds is his submissive posture.

"This might be a little easier if one of you were to shift back to human form." Edward's tone is even, laden with patience and tolerance, but he's not going to let them discover that he can hear their thoughts. And he wants their discussion to begin with them making a concession.

Edward watches in scientific rapture as the largest wolf steps slightly behind the other two, black fur ripples, shrinks and shifts into a very tall, very naked Quileute Indian. Edward cannot contain his wonder at the spectacle he just witnessed. "Sam, that was miraculous. You've restored my faith in the supernatural."

"Why are you here."

"I told you we needed to speak."

"Why aren't your eyes red?"

"You're very abrupt."

"Answer me, leech." Sam's sneer has reached epic proportions.

With a deep sigh, Edward presses on. "If you'll permit me, I'd like to tell you about my family, and by extension, our lifestyle. It varies quite significantly from the vampires you've encountered before."

Edward is not fooled by Sam's belligerent questioning, nor the bared teeth of the two wolves barely beyond arms length. All three of them are immensely curious about this vampire with golden eyes, who has the gumption to sit, Indian style, on their beach and have a polite discourse with multiple natural enemies. Edward, despite his penchant for honesty and forthright dealings, is a masterful manipulator. While his intentions are a testament to his innate goodness, his manipulative habits are a natural result of his mind reading abilities. While he sits there, at their mercy, he can literally hear the respect and regard for him spawn in their minds. They think him fearless, as if courage personified is sitting at their feet and civility paired with kindness can go a long way towards dissolving even magic-fueled anger.

"I think what you'll be most interested in is our diet." A pregnant pause, played for maximum effect. "We feed exclusively on the blood of animals. The result is our golden eye color, among other, less outwardly visible changes." He feeds them a sad smile. "It does not make us human, but it tames our nature to a certain extent. The longer we abstain, the easier it becomes." The sad smile turns into a lopsided grin. "And I have abstained for nearly six centuries. Blood no longer has the same draw for me that it once did. It is fuel only, and animals sustain us sufficiently."

Edward is a magnificent communicator. His telepathy allows him to cultivate a report with even his natural enemies. And Sam's curiosity is piqued past the point of no return. "You've abstained for 600 years." His tone is flat. "How old are you?"

"When I was human we didn't exactly keep a calender. But looking at backdated historical events that correlate with my human experiences puts me at nearly 1600 years old, 1580 or so."

"How do we know you aren't lying about not killing anyone? We will protect our people from you. We can expose you."

"Think about things for a moment, please. Have there been any murders in the area in the three weeks we've been here? How could we keep a permanent home? How could Carlisle be a doctor, or I a teacher? You must know we all keep professions. We've immersed ourselves in the human world because we want more than bloodlust and murder." Edward takes a deep breath, evaluating their minds for how to proceed and decides again that honesty is truly the best policy. He only hopes that his sincerity won't be misinterpreted as some sort of deviant vampire behavior.

"None of us started this existence by choice, but five of my seven family members have killed humans. It's true that our instincts are powerful. I'm sure you've seen the evidence of that." While he's endeavoring to earn their trust, he's also contemplating the memories he's witnessing of the three of them destroying two male vampires sometime in the previous spring. "In spite of our past transgressions, and in some cases because of them, we've all rediscovered our humanity. In our own ways, we try to contribute to this world."

The cadence of his voice is nearly hypnotic, has them listening intently. He delights in the serendipity of coming to First Beach, the place where the ritualistic elucidation of the Quileute legends takes place. At this very moment he has all three of them as enraptured as they were listening to the legends of the cold ones for the first time. "In the ways that matter, gentlemen, we are more alike than either of us would care to admit. We must both hide our true natures, and deal with the relative loneliness and alienation that entails. We both understand the fragile commodity that is human life, and because of that we both value it greatly; we'll defend this territory against others of our kind as fiercely as you do if you acquiesce to our presence here. Furthermore, we possess physical gifts that set us entirely apart from the general population." Another sad smile. "And the thing that makes us most similar... we desire the normality which was robbed from us. While it's nice to be able to run fast, and recover quickly, and jack a car up without your bare hands, I know we all wish that vampires and shape-shifters didn't exist."

"Yeah."

Edward glances around, making eye contact with each of the supernatural creatures before pressing on. "If you have no objections, I'd like to tell you about myself, and by extension, my family. You see, I was born the son of a king in the highlands of ancient Scotland..."

***

By the time Edward wraps up the tale of his life, and how his family came about, the sun is brightening the sky to the east, he's ignored several texts and phone calls from his family. After a momentary pause to check his cellular, he knows he has only about 10 min to make it home before things get a little sketchy. Forks will be experiencing a rare sunny day so he quickly wraps things up. "Well, guys, I must be going. The sun is making an appearance today and I really can't be seen walking about. My intention in coming here was to uncover the mysteries that have confounded us these last few weeks, and hopefully establish amicable relations with... whatever we found. I hope we're well on the way to doing that. Since you have our phone number, how about calling to set up a time where we can meet with you and the elders and establish whatever boundaries you're comfortable with. Anytime day or night is fine," he says with a wink.

"Oh yeah, sorry about earlier. We were calling under a misapprehension."

"Think nothing of it, boys, Rosalie can be quite a bitch." Hesitant laughter follows his footsteps through the forest. In the next few moments as he's running home, he's barely able to contain his mirth; he's just tamed three shapeshifting werewolves.

A/N: As you can probably tell, these Cullens have never come into contact with the Quileute wolves before. I was always annoyed at the way that canon portrayed their relationship. Seems to me they have enough in common to maintain a cordial relationship. And with Edward's slightly advanced turning age of 23, coupled with his mind reading, it just seems natural that he's the leader of the coven/family.