This will come up subtly in this chapter, so listen here; Edward is playing at being twenty five. He's really only twenty. Bella is twenty one.

Theme Song; The Gift Angels & Airwaves.

Words Only Get You So Far

"a woman either loves or hates; she knows no medium."

anonymous

We talked into the early morning, Edward engrossed in my words, and I in his. He had spectacular ideals—to reinstate democracy, to end another era of monarchs, to, instead of mimic the warped principles of rulers like Stalin and Hitler, let the people be individual entities who were free to think, and act, and write, and own whatever pleased them.

It wasn't that he was opposed to monarchies—they did hold an ancient sense of history, after all—but he was against the kind of Kings that Aro and Caius and some of his cousins embodied.

I told him that a democracy would be a revolution for both of our countries, and for the Scots as well. If it were ever to happen. I doubted my people would be opposed to it, that any nation would be opposed to it. It would only be a very drastic change. But a very necessary one. Everyone wished for the return of technology, of science, of exploration. Of freedom.

"You should sleep," he murmured as we fell into a comfortable silence, "you're exhausted."

I let my body fall back onto the bed, my head hitting the blissful pillow. A little sigh escaped my lips, followed by a yawn. Edward chuckled.

"And you?" I asked groggily, "You don't look tired at all."

I felt him shrug, though my eyes were too hooded to see, "Being a soldier, you learn not to sleep too much. I'm accustomed to it, now."

I stretched my arms over my head, and I could feel Edward stir again, rising from the bed, "Surely you can feel safe in your own home."

There was a slight pause, before Edward spoke quietly, his voice making it hard to remain awake, "This was never really my home."

I hummed a response, forcing my eyes to open, giving him a long look as he turned to go, "We're still enemies, you know," I said into the darkness, watching his back stiffen only just, "this cannot change the years of… killing you've unleashed on my people. Intelligent or no, I can't stifle my resentment."

His face turned toward me, and he nodded, "You'll find a way to forgive me, someday. Perhaps I'll find a way to forgive myself as well."

I let my head fall once again, "Maybe. Someday."

If I happen to be feeling delirious and disloyal, then definitely.

The weeks began fading into months, and the calendar told me that it would be March in a few days time. Edward had been by my side every day, and we talked for hours, the only real comfort in this makeshift prison. We got along well, though we argued more than an old married couple—usually about his secrets.

One morning, however, Edward was suspiciously absent—and a boyish manservant took his place as my watcher, eyes neither red nor golden. He told me Edward would be back by nightfall, that he was on an errand for his father. I smiled at the kid and he blushed, looking down as I thanked him.

"No need to be bashful," I snickered when his blush deepened, "what's your name, boy?"

"Torrin," he told me, finally looking up, blue eyes ablaze, "from Greece, my lady."

"And how old are you?"

"Seventeen, Miss."

I looked down the hallway, and out the open window that gave a spectacular view of the lakeshore, "Will you take a walk with me, Torrin?"

The boy looked nervous, his eyes flicking here and there, "Come on," I took his arm, leading him towards the window, "I want to go to the beach," I said quietly, "can you show me how to get there?"

He sucked his lip between his teeth, reminding myself very much of… myself. I laughed and he seemed to loosen up, the blush spreading once more across his cheeks, "There's a way to the shore through the servants quarters near the kitchens… there won't be any guards there."

I was already leading him towards the kitchens, pulling him by his hand. He followed me, his nervous steps louder than my sure footfalls. I smiled back at him once or twice as we weaved through the goings on of the kitchen, dodging flying chicken heads and the insides of turkeys, pigs hooves and ears that they saved for the dogs. I grimaced as my bare foot squished something's eyeball, and Torrin nearly bowled over from laughter. I wiped my foot on the threshold of the door leading to the outside, scowling at him.

"Oh, that's hilarious, is it?"

He chuckled a bit more before quieting down, "Your face!"

I gave him a grin to let him know I was not insulted, and I nearly skipped toward the beach. The wind howled, but the snow had melted from the unexpected sun, so my feet touched the cold sand, embracing the feel. My skin was thick—living in the Irish countryside your entire life could do that to a person's flesh. To survive the winters you had to embrace them. Build up an immunity to ice and chill.

"I must admit," I said quietly as Torrin came to stand beside me, admiring the ocean, "this is a lovely country."

"Not lovelier than Greece!" he boasted, a true smile making his features shine, "…you would see my island someday, Lady. It is a sight far more beautiful than this dreary place. The culture there is rich, the oceans are blue and bright…" he trailed off, casting his gaze to his feet. I placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing circles into the bone with my thumb.

"You'll go back there, soon, I think," I tilted his chin up towards my face, "Trust me, alright?"

He nodded, "Anything for the Rebel Queen."

I rolled my eyes, "Princess, actually. I'd do the throne a dishonor."

"No," Torrin countered, "you'd be a far better Queen than any I've ever heard of."

I laughed, plopping down into the sand, "But you hardly know me!"

Torrin didn't answer, but sat down beside me, digging his toes into the sand.

"Thank you for taking me out here," I whispered hours later as the sun began to fall for the night, inviting the moon to take its place, "I missed the outdoors."

He grinned distractedly, eyes fixated on the sun. I waved my hand before his face, breaking his trance.

"Oh!" he looked over at me sharply, then back to the sun, "Lady, you'll excuse me, I'll return in a moment!"

He rose from his spot, tripping over himself the whole way up to the castle. I watched him slip through the little door that led to the servant's quarters—and watched it shut behind him.

It was the perfect time.

The absolute ideal time to run, run and not think on Edward, or Alice, or the entire family Volturi until I was safe in my father's arms.

And yet, I couldn't go.

Torrin would surely be punished, and I couldn't handle another corpse on my conscience. Oh, but how the stretch of beach called to me. It was long and inviting, begging me to take the steps that would lead to somewhere safe, somewhere that resembled home. I'd swim across the ocean, and walk across all the hills and mountains separating me from my little village if I had to. I missed it almost to the point where it pained me to think of it. And Charlie. And Jacob. These months without them were slowly gnawing at my heart.

I let my mind wander for a moment, imagining their faces if I were to suddenly appear, walking up the little path to our village. Charlie would smile, his worry lines would be evident on his wise, old face. Jacob would make some excited noise, run to embrace me.

Unconsciously, I'd risen from my place on the beach and wandered to where sea met sand. The frozen water licked at my feet, my ankles, my shins, wetting the hem of my dress. I felt the cold, but did not feel it. My body was somehow numb with homesickness, heavy with longing. I waded slightly deeper into the water, imagining Ireland just out of reach of my fingertips. If I could only reach a little further….

"Isabella!"

Torrin's voice dragged me back to sanity, his worried face alerting me to how deep I had trudged into the water. It was swaying back and forth beneath my breasts—and suddenly, everything crashed down on me. The cold, the depth. Oh, Gods, the deep.

Panic seized me, and I couldn't move. I'd always been afraid, too scared to swim out to the rocks off the coast with Jacob for fear of the deep water. 'It's because you can't see what's beneath you,' I'd explain to him every time he asked, 'that's what scares me'.

Now, with my imagination already running away with me, I was more scared than ever before. My toes weren't touching the sand anymore, and I was drifting out to sea. My throat closed up, and I only hoped Torrin would notice the fear on my face. I only hoped he was a fair swimmer.

Something cold—far colder than the water—gripped my waist, and I screamed, writhing, kicking, tears falling down my face as I struggled against the nameless, faceless thing.

And then I was on the shore, and Edward was looking down at me, his face screwed up with consternation.

"What were you thinking?" he breathed, angry, concerned. And still, he was beautiful—even wet, even disheveled. Even furious.

"I wasn't," I answered groggily, and he seemed to understand. He turned his dark eyes to Torrin, growling low in his throat.

"I asked you to watch her," he hissed, "was that so difficult?"

"No, no," I cut of Torrin's reply, sitting up to face Edward, "he left for a minute, and my thoughts ran away with me. Don't take my delusions out on him."

I stared at Edward, and his eyes cleared, lightening to their regular topaz. Strange, my mind reminded me, so strange. He sighed again, moving one hand to my back as I shivered from the cold. My head felt heavy, my forehead pounding from the wet and the cold. Looking up at him as he carried me back toward the castle, I could see he was worried. His jaw was tense, the muscles of his arms clenching and unclenching.

"A hot bath is what you need," he muttered, more to himself than me, "you'll be fine after a hot bath."

My neck collapsed under the weight of my head, placing it onto Edward's stone chest.

"Thank you," I whispered, "for saving me."

He didn't say a word.

A hot bath did do me some good, warmed my quaking bones at least, but I was still bed ridden on orders of the nurse who'd come to see me hours ago. I knew I should be asleep, trying to recuperate, but I couldn't shake the image of Edward's eyes, the chill of his touch, the feel of his hard chest. And it wasn't because all of these things attracted me to him, but because they were simply… not of this world.

Edward, Aro, Carlisle, Alice; the entire royal family were, now that I had taken the time to observe them, perceptibly bizarre. Inhuman, even.

But if they're not human Bella, my reason returned, breaking through the fog of imagination, then what are they?

I had no answer to that. Though, the wilder side of my mind thought superheroes, science experiments gone wrong, natural freaks of nature. I could think of a lot of ludicrous ideas given the time.

I turned over as the door to the bedroom opened, the soft click of the handles alerting me to Edward's presence. He'd been a looming shadow in the corner of the room as the nurse had checked me over, deeming me fine but weak and panicked. I rolled my eyes at her. I mean, I did nearly drown. Of course I was panicked, and even that was an understatement.

Edward stepped lithely into the room, giving me a small, charming smile as he shut the door behind him.

"You really have a problem with knocking, eh?" I sniped, sour at being confined between the four posts of my bed.

He raised his eyes to the sky, flashing them back down to me in moments. I stared at him stonily, unwilling to relent to the smile threatening to creep upon my lips. I felt like I wanted to smile every time I saw him now. Which was, you know, annoying.

"I don't like you when you're sick," he announced matter-of-factly, taking his place at the edge of my bed, "you're much more difficult than usual. More complex."

"Oh!" I shouted indignantly, my hands balling into fists over the blanket, "I'm difficult? I'm complex? 'I can't tell you Bella,' 'What were you thinking Bella?' 'Yes, Bella, it is that bad.' You're harder to crack than a locked box!"

He snickered then, and I blew the fringe from my forehead, my chest deflating, my back sinking once more into the pillows, "Yes, just laugh at silly little Bella," my voice slipped into a deadly tone, "You won't be laughing when I'm well and throw you off my balcony."

"Bella," Edward sighed, still smiling, "I'm quite open, actually. There are just certain aspects of my life that I cannot disclose to you," he waved his hand in the air in a dismissive manner, "besides, I don't reveal my secrets to enemies."

"Enemies," I whispered, becoming serious. The mood of our playful banter left me, and I looked up at him through my lashes, "I wish we weren't, you know. I see good in you."

"Only because I saved your life, Bella. But all the things I've done... There is hardly good in me."

"Edward…" I pleaded, my voice breaking from the pain in my throat, "You're right, I don't know you as well as you know yourself, but I know that you have a good heart, no matter how black you've painted it for Aro."

He looked up at me then, something screaming at me through his golden irises. But it was as if the words were in code, in a different language, because I couldn't understand what he was trying to silently communicate. And then, the moment was broken, and he looked down at the duvet.

His hand, pale as the moonlight, moved slowly across the bedspread, coming to rest on my knee. My breath halted, and I could only focus on his digits wrapping around my leg, "And how black is your heart?" he asked quietly, staring into me, "what nameless things have you done for the rebellion, Bella, that might have tainted you?"

I shook my head, "I don't know if my sins will compare to yours, Edward. I don't have many."

"You killed the congressman," he said, his voice taking on a chilling quality, his body moving somehow closer to mine. I held my reserve, though I was trembling inside—the intensity of his stare unnerving me. My chin tilted upwards, and I kept my eyes on his—I wouldn't let him see my tension, "and in your heart… you want revenge for your mother."

"Of course," I breathed.

"In the eyes of many, those are sins, considered the circumstances or no."

"And you?" I asked, watching his hand slide up my thigh over the blankets, loving the feel of his fingers as they pressed delicately into my skin. He was so close now that I could see the sway of his hair as he shook his head, silently telling me he wouldn't answer. His eyes confirmed his actions. Did he have so many?

I exhaled, my breath fanning across his face, and he closed his eyes, his glorious lips parting to taste my essence. And in that moment, that one second when he seemed to want my very self, I wanted him just as badly. I wanted to devour him, to taste him. Was it so wrong to want to see the colors of his soul? To see his true intentions, his power, his beauty revealed?

"Edward."

"Forgive me," he murmured, crushing his mouth to mine, engulfing me in ecstasy.

I'll stop the storm if it rains

I'll light a path far from here

I'll make your fear melt away

And the world we know disappear.

Make the world we know disappear.