Disclaimer: The Twilight series and its characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer. We can only hope to encroach on the premises just a little while longer :)

A/N: It's the moment you've all been waiting for. Romeo, meet Juliet. Ach, finally this chapter's done! There was the worst case of writer's block going around, and it was driving me positively mad. Insane. Anyway, there's a bit of French in here, the phrase basically translating to: "You fool! Watch where you're going!"

Chapter 4 is titled after the lyrics in the song "Fork and Knife" by Brand New (my savior from writer's block). As always, thanks to my reviewers for your patience, and thanks to Peach (crazy nuts forever!).


Part II—Chapter 4: Morning's Over

"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference." – Robert Frost

-Mid-18th Century France-

Constable Swan had left to parade the streets an hour earlier; Jessica and Lauren were still snoring their heads off in their rooms. They had gotten into a snit the night before—again, over Michael Newton—and Bella wasn't too keen on waking them up for breakfast, dealing with their dirty looks and sullen expressions. She could have just as soon left for the Black household, but she had a feeling Jacob wouldn't be up to talk yet. He was a heavy sleeper, especially after a good meal. And Rebecca was, if nothing, a good cook. They'd often joked around that the only reason why Billy never insisted on marrying her off was due to her cooking skills.

Bella absently swallowed a spoonful of porridge as she watched the wall clock's hands move ever so slightly closer to the hour. Sunlight streamed in freely through the window lattice, scattering a pale, yellow glow in the small kitchen. Decisively, Bella placed her spoon in her bowl, pushed both away, and propped her chin up on her hands as she leaned on the table. The clock continued ticking monotonously.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

She began to swing her legs underneath the table, as though willing the clock's steady pace to quicken. Bella sighed. If Jacob had only taken her with him the other day, then maybe she'd still be in bed and not up waiting like half-wit in the rain. At least by sleeping, she'd be doing something. By sleeping, she'd be able to dream about a solution for her mother's constant pestering offer on coming to Paris.

Ah, Paris . No Newton , no marrying, and no constant supervision…It was almost a dream in itself; then again…no Jacob, no Angela. Bella couldn't truthfully say 'no companionship' since Renee was more of a friend to her than a mother. A frown pleated her brow. That meant the pros for leaving their village outweighed the cons.

It wouldn't do.

She breathed out a sigh of annoyance as she rose from her seat, taking her dish to the washing bin and submerging it in water. She was only torturing her head by thinking these thoughts. Perhaps she should go over to the Blacks', regardless of the time. Rebecca could use some company other than Billy, who likely wanted tidings of Charlie. A voice in the back of her head snorted. Okay, so he didn't need tidings of Charlie, whom he saw almost everyday, but still! She had to get out of the house before she completely lost her mind and started talking to inanimate objects.

Bella paused on her way out the room in thought. Yet if she did start talking to inanimate objects, maybe Michael would finally come to his senses. The prospect of it cheered her, but she skipped ahead to her room anyway to properly dress for calling.

She crept by Lauren's room, taking care not to wake her and shut the slightly open door. At Jessica's room, she paused; out of the two, she admittedly preferred Jess. Her youngest sister babbled nonstop when started and was a tad bit shallow, but her bond to Bella was far less capricious than hers to Lauren. Jess had curled herself up into a tight ball and had kicked away her blanket sometime during the night.

Bella quietly entered the room and pulled the covers back up over her sister, tucking it around her just as Renee used to do when she had been around. Then she turned to tiptoe out the door.

"Bella?"

She halted mid-step, and inclined her head slightly over her right shoulder. "Yes, Jessica?"

"Michael loves me best, doesn't he?" There was such a determined hope in her eyes that Bella couldn't lie to her even if she wanted to—as if she could.

"Why wouldn't he?"

Jess smiled blissfully and turned her back to the door, mumbling, "Yes, why wouldn't he?" She sighed and drifted back into slumber.

Shutting the door behind her, Bella slipped into her own bedroom to dress for the day.

The large window over her bed heralded a beautiful day. The sparrows chirped gaily from the tree, which had only begun to make the seasonal change from green to orange.

This was perfect. Now all she needed to do was lure Jacob away from his machinery long enough to take a walk in the forest.


Bella smiled politely to allow a mother and her noisy brood pass before she rounded the corner of the narrow street. She'd always personally thought that the Blacks had picked a beautiful area to settle in. Ivy trailed lovingly on the worn brick-and-stone walls, the roof almost completely hidden by the growing layer of dark green vines. Vibrant magenta flowers peeped out occasionally through the leaves, straining for the early morning sunshine that just never seemed to reach it. They enveloped that patch of street with a light, sweet scent. Fronds spilled out along the side of the modest structure, tickling Bella's arm with their feathery leaves as she made her way up the steep set of steps that led to the front door.

For the briefest moment she hesitated, her fist raised to knock. Oh, never mind, she thought impatiently and proceeded to knock on the door. She paused in the middle of her second round of rapping, suddenly aware of a commotion through the doors. There was a calm, placating voice followed by a quick, agitated gruff tone that Bella gathered was Billy.

Maybe Jacob wasn't exaggerating.

Beyond the door, she heard a heavy, uneven gait followed by the familiar thumping of Billy's cane. She released the doorknob from under her right hand as the door came away to be opened by Billy Black, his dark eyes unfathomable and his mouth in a tight, thin line. Bella tried for a smile.

"Good morning, Billy."

"Bells, what are you doing here?" Bella's eyes widened as her father's face poked around the corner of the house.

"Ch—father, I thought that you were supposed to be…?"

"It's just a quick visit, but it turns out that I may—"

"Jacob isn't here," Billy interrupted brusquely, limping away. He left the door ajar and Bella took it as a sign that she wasn't barred from the premises, if not completely welcome.

She tentatively walked in and watched as Billy sank heavily into a divan, his face deeply lined with anxiety. He turned his head away to stare listlessly out the window. Rebecca silently swept into the room and placed a cup of tea at her father's elbow. The air was thick with strain and Bella couldn't take it any longer.

"What's going on?" She directed the question to anyone in general. Someone had to answer it. Anyone—she didn't care.

"Bella, when was the last time you saw Jacob?" Rebecca asked. Her dark brown eyes were inscrutable.

Bella felt her breath constrict in her throat. Of course…. "Yesterday. When was the last time you saw him?"

"Just before he set off for the forest."

"He'll come back," Constable Swan rushed to assure them as Bella felt herself become cold. She leaned against the wall and tried to think clearly against the fog that had begun to settle in her mind. Jacob may have…no, she couldn't afford to believe the worst. She could still picture his animated features from the day before as he threw a grin and sped off away from her door, waving and calling back jokes…

"He's alive," she finally said, surprised at the firmness in her tone.

"That's right!"

"We'll hope," Rebecca murmured.

"Isn't anyone going to do anything about this?" Bella demanded.

No one in the room responded, and she felt a twinge of irritation pull at her. Dejection reigned supreme in the room, darkening the clear autumn day—and Bella suddenly had a feverish desire to go against the grain. Barely knowing what she was doing, she pushed away from the wall and turned to go for the door with only one thing printed on her mind, white hot and insistent.

Must go the forest; no other choice left. Must go into the forest.

"Bella, where—?"

"I really have to go now, sorry I can't stay much longer," she said hurriedly.

"Yes," Charles Swan nodded in relief, "go home. You look a little pale from all of this, but don't worry; it'll be sorted out in no time. I'll be off now to alert the rest of the brigade for any leads, so best of regards Billy, Rebecca."

Bella spun on her heel. "You can't!"

"Why not? Bella, it's going to be fine."

She shook her head frantically. "No, you can't go right now. Please," she forced herself to adopt a calmer demeanor. "As my father, will you please stay with the Blacks? I'm—it worries me about, you know, and I can't—I mean, I don't…" Twisting the doorknob under her sweaty palm, Bella hoped that she displayed the right combination of restless agitation. The combination that did not reveal her plans in any shape or form.

Quietly, her father sank back into the wooden seat, regarding her face speculatively.

She sighed in relief, opening the door and stepping over the threshold. "Thank you."

"Be careful," he murmured.

Bella closed the door quickly and hastily cleared the steps, catching the edge of a tall, clay pot to keep from tripping over. And then she was off again. Her mind was in a whirl of excitement. Adrenaline pumped into her veins, raising a high-fevered intensity to cloud her head and cause her to lose track of what she was doing. Idiotically, she dithered at the corner of the house. The few passerby that crossed her path eyed her curiously. She gave them a weak smile and made herself stop to think about what she was doing.

Breathe, Bella, a small voice in the back of her head commanded.

She obeyed. The voice continued, growing clearer. By now, she was pretty sure she was showing early signs of insanity, but she didn't actually care. The voice was helping her, after all.

Go behind the alley of the Blacks' house and find your father's stallion. The grey one.

"Transportation?" she whispered, feeling like a total loon. She tried to make her walk as casual as was possible for someone like her and rounded the corner to the cramped alleyway.

The horse will cover far more ground in the forest, and you can't afford to lose time.

Reaching the stallion, Roger—named by Renee, when she had still lived with them—Bella began to doubt the helpful voice. She could hardly handle walking across any smooth surface herself. How on earth was she going to handle riding a full-grown horse? As a child, she'd been terrified of being trampled over by their steel-shoed hooves, and had never quite gotten over the time when Roger had snuck up behind her on laundry day.

She'd never tried to ride one.

And now here she was, foolishly attempting to ride one, all for the sake of her best friend.

"I know I'm being stupid," she muttered to the horse. Roger whickered at her in agreement, prodding at her hand with his nose and rolling his huge dark eyes at her. "And I'll probably get in trouble with your master, but you could at least cooperate!"

Bella swatted his head away nervously and tightened the saddle around his belly, recalling the rest of her father's dutiful checking. Dumbly, she looked up at Roger, who had begun to tug impatiently at the rope that tied him to a post.

"What do I do now?" she asked bleakly.

You ride the creature, of course, the voice snapped impatiently. Foot in the stirrup and swing yourself on! You've seen this done a thousand times, Bella.

Roger whinnied, tossing his mane anxiously.

"Fine, I'll do it," she whispered furiously.

And without a second thought, Bella grabbed the pommel of the saddle and stuck her foot through the stirrup presented to her. Roger twisted his head around and nudged at her backside, causing her to jump and make her heart splutter erratically in her chest. It did the job, however. The jump brought her other leg around the saddle, and all she had to do was correct her posture. Scrabbling for the reins, Bella stopped, and smacked herself inwardly.

There, hung neatly on the horizontal bar, was the bit and bridle.

"Ugh," she hissed in disgust, one hand on Roger's mane, the other gripping the pommel. What do I do now? I'm not dismounting, I'm wasting time, and—

Releasing a sound between a gasp and a scream, Bella clung for dear life as Roger suddenly bolted through the alleyway, baying triumphantly.

They skidded across the rough cobblestones of the alley and charged through the adjoining thoroughfare, nearly running over the good citizens that promenaded idly along the bright street. Bella was nearly sick with fright as Roger, without warning, swerved to avoid a fruit vendor's cart, and then swerved again to avoid crashing into the wall. The world spun before her eyes as the streets flew by in a jolting manner. She could hardly even comprehend the rapid-fire, angry words that people barked at them ("Vous imbécile! Vous regardez où vous allez!").

At some point during the mad rush, Bella managed to gather herself within and concentrate on her options. Obviously there were few, but she had to consider them anyway. Her grip briefly tightened on Roger's mane as he made a skidding turn into an empty street that circumnavigated the busy main boulevard. Roger tossed his head in an attempt to ease her hold on him, and she complied, tightening her legs around his belly instead. For a moment, it occurred to her that she was wearing a skirt. She shook off the blush that had begun to color her cheeks, and then transferred her thoughts to the horse that continued on in his driving gallop beneath her. Back in the alley, somehow, he'd managed to untie the rope that had bound him to the pole. Her father had always boasted proudly that his horse was the smartest creature around.

Bella tugged protestingly on Roger's creamy mane, and he slowed to a reasonable walk, flicking his eyes at her in what seemed like exasperation. Trembling as her muscles began to loosen, she righted herself on the saddle, shaking off the last bits of doubt that still clung to her.

"Let's see," she thought aloud. "Because of your impatience, we left without the bridle. Because of my idiocy, I forgot to pick it up, and therefore have no control over what you do."

Roger made a smug noise.

Sighing, Bella lightly prodded his sides with her heels and he complied with a trot that bordered on a canter. No reins, no control. Well, I'll just have to trust that he's smart enough to know what he's doing.

"Don't kill me," she told him, trying to be firm. A quaver lingered in her voice, but she plowed on. "We want to go into the forest. So I'm going to tug you in the direction that you need to go in, and you're going to try your best not to ram me into a tree branch with flesh-eating squirrels. Comprenez?"

From his silence, Bella took that he understood.

"Let's go, then," she muttered to herself, steering Roger to the right as he started into a more controllable gallop.

Hanging on once again to keep from falling over, Bella went on her way to the dark trees that loomed ever closer.


From far away, the forest looked perfectly harmless, its earthy greens and browns a softer contrast to the rough, mountainous landscape. With the sunlight trickling through its layering foliage, it appeared positively ideal for the avid explorer.

But at a closer range, as Bella discovered, it gave off the undercurrent of a threat. She was sure that at any given moment, the gnarled and warped roots protruding from the soft moss would come alive and take hold of her. She would be dragged down into the ground where her family would never find her. At the same time, they held her mind in some sort of bizarre fascination. The trees were timeless—they must have witnessed so much. In a way, the knotted boughs signified how much wiser nature was…

Roger whickered softly, his ears pricked straight up in alert.

Bella's head then whipped around to the direction where Roger's wedge-shaped head pointed, fully expecting the whispered threat that took a toll on her sanity.

"Jacob?" Her voice sounded small and insignificant in her surroundings. There was a light rustling and then nothing.

Tension flowed into her once more and Roger plodded on through the forest, taking care to only take the path where sunshine dappled the ground. Bella felt Restlessness and its partner, Intuition, poke and prod at her in the back of her head, trying to tug her in a different path. She shifted around in the saddle and finally stopped when Roger halted mid-stride, looking cross. When his easy gait continued, she impulsively steered him to her left. He balked and flattened his ears against his head. Bella gritted her teeth and glared down at him.

"I thought we had a compromise," she scowled. He remained stubbornly silent. "Run up at least halfway and then go home, I won't care!"

Roger cocked his head to her for a moment, seeming to consider it. Again, Bella's wits scattered as he began to gallop fast and hard against the ground. She flattened herself against his back and waited for him to stop. They skidded to a halt in a clearing, and Bella had to shade her eyes to adjust to the burst of bright sunlight that blinded her and caused black spots to appear in her line of sight. When her vision cleared, her heart gave a leap and her breath caught in her throat.

Colorful sprays of wildflowers spread out along the expanse of green, adding a lovely addition to the otherwise austere forest. Blues, yellows, reds, and splashes of orange arranged themselves in delightful disorganization through the grass, and Bella could hardly believe that a sight like this would hide itself away from the world. Such splendor shouldn't have the right to exclude itself from being appreciated. Her eyes roamed, and her gaze finally landed on a set of graceful medieval arches, subtly obscured by two tall pines. The arches threw long shadows against the ivied walls of an abandoned battlement and deepened as they reached a narrow staircase…that led to what? Bella knew she had to find out.

Her heart was beating in her mouth as she cautiously dismounted from Roger's back, leaving him to nibble at the grass to his heart's content. Bella had no further use of him from this point forward, as was likewise for him. She crossed the bright and merry clearing to the shaded lane across, glancing back only once and then going forward to the arches. They rose above her, the smooth, curved stone twined with morning glories that bloomed purple and pink against the periwinkle sky. The scuffing noise from her boots created the only sound in the heavy quiet. Bella could feel her inner self pleading with her to run back to the clearing, run back home and hope for Jacob's return, but she was firm in her resolve.

This is all for Jacob, all for Jacob, all for Jacob. She repeated the words in her mind like a mantra and continued down the steps that followed, wishing for a light to brighten the dark in the stone grotto that she found herself in. The walls seemed to go on and on in the gloom. Bella suddenly feared for Jacob. There was something not quite right about this place, and fear grappled with anger in her heart. If only Jacob hadn't gone wandering by himself, then maybe he might have—!

"Jacob? Answer me if you're here," she called out, daring herself to walk further in. Even to her own ears she sounded like she was begging. "Please? It's Bella…you can call me stupid, call me a fool, just give me some sort of sign that you're here.

"Your sister and dad are wringing themselves dry for losing you, and I don't think that's fair. Life isn't far, yes, sure. But this is getting out of hand. Angela warned you yesterday about this—okay, she warned me, but you could at least have gotten the point!" Bella kept herself babbling, if only to ward off the oncoming feeling of dread that had started to haunt her. She stayed close against the left wall, feeling and groping her way blindly through. She stifled a gasp upon hearing a noise somewhere—she couldn't pinpoint it, as it echoed through the stone.

Then she smothered a scream when a hand came around to clamp against her mouth, drawing her against a corner in the wall that she hadn't noticed before. She identified the new arrival as male.

"Be quiet!" the stranger hissed. His plea fell on deaf ears.

Bella, gathering all her strength, grabbed her captor's arms in a death grip and kicked out with her knee to the one spot where men hated to be kicked.

Her captor jumped away, cursing as he curled to the ground. Stunned, Bella clung against the wall behind her, breathing hard. "Who are you?" she asked, dazed. Wow…it really hurt, she marveled. "I'll do it again, if you don't tell me!"

"Dammit, Bella, it's me!"

"Jacob!" she exclaimed, weak with joy and relief. "You're okay!"

Jacob groaned, swearing in strings as he bent knee to chin. He twisted his head to glower at her. "Do I look okay?"

Laughing weakly, Bella knelt before him, awkwardly patting his back as he turned away with a final, muttered obscenity that cursed someone's cousin and his neighbor's cat. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it was you. How could I? Jacob, why don't you ever warn me?" she asked in irritation.

Working to find his breath, Jacob inclined his head to her direction again. In the half-light, Bella could see that his grimy face was lined with sweat, his hair mussed, with a few bruises along his arm.

"What happened?" she asked in a low voice.

"Bella, it's complicated, dangerous, and I don't intend to discuss it here," he murmured.

"But—"

"Listen, could you untie the rope down there?" Jacob jerked his chin in the direction of his ankle. The thick rope was tied in a convoluted knot to an iron rod in the wall. "There's a knife in my pocket somewhere…here."

Bella took the knife between her trembling fingers and began to saw away at the rope. "What happened?" she repeated softly.

"I was getting ready to shoot down a pigeon, when I was surrounded by these huge growling…things. I can't describe them correctly. They were like bears, sharp fangs and all, but they looked more or less like wolves." He motioned for her to continue cutting him free when she stopped, gaping in disbelief. "And then, when things couldn't get any worse—"

"Jacob, it's too thick."

"Don't give up on this. Please, Bella, we need to get out of here," he begged. Bella found herself clutched in fright at seeing the blind desperation in his eyes.

Biting her lip, she continued on to hopelessly cut the rope. She concentrated on poking through the tightly wound strands, trying to find a way to loosen it at the very least, with Jacob's breathing slowly coming back to normal. Her body was numbed in her work.

With a shout and a clatter, Jacob jerked his leg away even as Bella began to protest. She froze in the motion of reaching for the knife, and felt a trickle of cold run down her spine at the smooth, velvety voice that nearly stopped her heart.

"Our conversation wasn't finished yet, and I can't risk letting you go either, now that you've joined as well."

Between Jacob's seething and the voice and presence somewhere behind her, Bella may as well have considered herself done.


A/N: Wasn't that worth the wait, just to have a glimpse of Edward? No...don't answer that XD. Anyway, we all know that Edward's prone to overreaction, which was the reason for why he tied up Jacob in the first place. He truly needed to ask him something...without Jacob running off to spread superstition all over the village.

And why hasn't Edward realized Bella's scent yet? Oh, yes he has. You can ask me in a review, or wait until the next chapter where Bella finally turns around to see him.