A/N: Finally. After how many months, we're at the end of the story. Sorry for such a long wait! Hope you all enjoyed what you read, and look out for whatever I decide to do next. Oh, and a special thanks to all supporters of this story from the beginning, and to all supporters who joined later as well, and to my friend Maida, who couldn't wait to get her hands on this chapter, that she had me e-mail it to her, when I was done. :)
The chiseled stone walls are as cold as we are, and as the sunlight of the world above fades away into the sepia glow of the electric lamps – an invention that would've made the corridors of the underground castle so much less scarier when I'd first been brought there – I feel a thin chill run through my bones.
I realize it is fear.
Fear of not knowing, fear of what I might find, and fear of what I might not be able to handle.
It's a weird feeling for a vampire to experience fear. Fear is mainly a human emotion, and like pain, fear is usually left behind when someone changes. After all, fear stems from the knowledge of having pain inflicted on one.
But vampires feel little, even as their senses are heightened and sharpened.
I'm afraid of having my heart feel pain again.
There's wound that Carlisle had left behind long ago, which had healed into a scar, but it was a scar easily bruised, and when stirred enough, it opened. And when opened, my heart pours out all it's hope and strength… and I feel as if I'll die.
Death is another thing which incites fear.
I'm afraid I might die if I see him again.
My feet keep moving, step by step, we – Cassandra, Emilia and I – walk slowly down the staircase leading to the chambers below, but I wish I could just climb back upwards, where my heart is safe to continue it's simple, cocooned solace, wrapped in the thread of Marcus' love.
But that cannot be. It's a foolish thought, I tell myself. If I don't face this fear now, I shall wallow in the desperate longing I've kept for the past two centuries, for another two centuries again.
I sigh, and my two companions turn to look at me. Cassandra has an affectionately sympathetic expression. She understands my inner turmoil. Emilia takes my hand, and squeezes it.
"It'll be alright, Susie. He's just a boy."
She giggles at this, and so does Cassandra. I afford a small smile. It's as if we're all young debutantes and there's a suitor at the door for me. A suitor…that's what I once thought he could be.
We continue walking and when we reach the foot of the stairs, Emilia lightly taps the door at the bottom – newly replaced with a more modern wood design – four consecutive times, pauses, and then snaps her fingers twice.
That's what a human would observe.
In fact, she whispers a code-word in a breath only low enough for the guards on the opposing side to hear. The secret word and ritual performed by anyone wanting to enter, is different for everyone.
For us, however, as the queens of the Volturi, we have a long one to do and each of us has a different word to use, but when we are all together – as we usually are – we use another word.
This is the word that Emilia uses now.
It lets the guards know beforehand, as they have to be prepared in a bow when we enter. There's an answering rap on the door, telling us that they're ready. Emilia smirks, and pushes the door open lightly.
She always loves to be the centre of attention.
Of, course she walks out first, passing the two parallel lines of four guards on either side, who bow in the Volturi style, which is with their dark cloaks swooping out from one side. Cassandra follows next. I, being the youngest, then sidle out slowly.
Though their faces are to the ground, I know they're stealing hurried glimpses of us. I even hear the slightest choked gulp from one of them as I enter. This glorified feeling is another thing I took awhile to get used to, when I was first changed.
It's peculiar to have thought yourself ugly as a human, and then to strike open desire and lust into male vampires once turned. The sensation of knowing that they cannot even conceal their want is empowering, in a way.
We finish our walk of honor, and turn into the right-hand corridor, departing from the sight of the guards, and I listen for the soft moans that always follow. There are several. Emilia's smirk grows wider, and Cassandra just shrugs.
This rite may seem a little extravagant, but we rarely visit the underground world, and prefer to spend our time, where we can still feel the presence of the sun, and watch the stars. When we do come down here, it is usually only on very special occasions, such as this one.
Meeting a foreign guest…whose very gaze may render me crippled.
"I heard his wife's been married before, as in, the past. Jiha even mentioned that she had a baby who died."
Emilia's voice resounded clearly, and Cassandra nodded in agreement.
"When the baby died, she flung herself from a cliff in despair. That's when she was changed by Carlisle."
"How tragically romantic, don't you think so?"
"Say, isn't there more talk that Carlisle has more new friends than just the one he brought along with him?"
"Oh, yes! Five of them, to be exact."
"Five? I can only imagine."
"Well, you don't need to. I hear they're within the city's boundaries, but decidedly aren't visiting our ancient castle. Never mind. We'll catch them later, but out of sight, of course."
"Emilia. Do you really have to be such a nosy cat about these things?"
Their conversation continues on, filled with mild laughter and reprieves, but I hear no more of it. I'm too engrossed in thinking about how to keep myself from shivering at the sight of his golden eyes.
We will not meet them, face-to-face. Emilia plans on watching the formal introduction through a peephole in the wall, with us taking turns at intervals. I swear she must've been a mischievous genius as a child, to be a criminal mastermind now. Figuratively-speaking, though.
The closer we get to the throne room, the harder it is for me to keep from crossing my arms and biting my lip. I'm so filled with anticipation that my heart just wants to jump out of my chest, so it can avoid dealing with my bundle of nerves. Cassandra throws me a reassuring glance, and Emilia squeezes my hand again.
I nod absently.
Finally, after what seems to have been days, we reach the chamber, and assume our positions at the peephole. Emilia peeks through, and muffles a squeal of excitement. Cassandra shushes her furtively.
"What do you see, Emily?"
"She's a very sweet-looking thing, that's for sure."
Cassandra rolls her eyes, knowing that Emilia will not give her a straight answer anymore, and that we will have to wait our turns to see them for ourselves. Emilia frequently coos and fawns over whatever she's watching, and eventually, Cassandra, tired of having to wait patiently, brushes Emilia aside, and looks through.
"Oh, you're right. She is very angelic-like. She has a face only the kindest of mothers would have." Cassandra pauses, and then lets out a groan.
"Goodness, I'll have to scold Aro for his rudeness later. He just asked her about her ex-husband!"
Emilia sputters laughter, and I tap my feet wanting to take a look too, my anticipation becoming impatience. "Cassandra?"
She waves me off, like you would a child, and I realize that she's forgotten about me entirely. What can be so interesting about this woman that they can't tear their eyes away?
Well, if she weren't so interesting, Suzette, would you have thought her worthy of his love?
The little voice in my head has a way of making me eat my words, all the time.
At last, though, Cassandra motions for me to come over, and I do. She withdraws from the hole, and I glance through, suddenly afraid.
My breath catches, and my body turns frozen stiff.
Those eyes – those deliciously, melted honey eyes.
He's smiling, as he always did. Something unfamiliar stirs up inside of me, and I know it's the scar re-opening. He hasn't changed, not at all. But the look of love he used to give me, the one I remember so well… it's not for me anymore.
It is for her.
Both of their comments from before are indeed very accurate. She has a smooth, rounded face, slightly off from the usual angular shape that vampires usually acquire during the change. Her eyes are glistening, even in the light of the lamps, and I can see they are the same deep, golden color as Carlisle's.
My eyes are not golden. They are sulfur.
This revelation makes the wound ache and deepen, even more.
She does not kill, like you do, Suzette. She can control herself; she is innocent. This is why Carlisle loves her.
I bite my lip, and feel the swelling in my chest – a burning feeling, one which can only be released by shedding tears… but unfortunately, vampires don't cry – erupt like a fire. When I see him look at her, I see something in his eyes that I never saw when he looked at me.
A look of utter devotion – one that says he would die for her, if need be.
This is the last straw. I can take no more. The burning intensifies. I turn my head away from the sorrowful sight, and cover my eyes with my hand. I'm weeping, the way vampires do – soundless and dry.
Cassandra pulls me close, and I bury my head in her shoulder. Emilia rests her head on my back, and we stand there. Three stunningly beautiful angels, in the dimly-lit stone corridor, huddled together.
Eventually, I straighten myself, and regain my composure, but all I want to do now is to fling myself off a cliff, like she once did, and hope I die so that he can save me.
But that's not possible. That won't happen, Suzette. Stop being delusional.
The last command breaks me in two. I shudder and fall to the ground. They catch me before I can even stoop an inch.
"Suzette, let's go. We'll go now. Come on, Cassandra."
They lead me along, and we find an unguarded guest room door. Emilia twists the knob, and opens it. We all squirm and find our way inside. Cassandra switches the lamps on, and Emilia sits me down on the bed, as she kicks the door shut.
I lie on the bed, head buried in the pillow. Emilia strokes my hair, trying to comfort me, but not knowing how. Cassandra is silent.
"Suzette."
When she finally speaks, her voice is strained, but fervent.
I don't acknowledge her call. It is just as I have said. The wound will drain me of everything, and then I'll die.
"Susie," she tries a different approach, "it seems as if you are going to die, doesn't it?"
I don't say anything, still.
"Oh, Susie, if you had experienced this first as a human, this wouldn't be so hard. Everything's always more intense as a vampire."
I am mute, but my wound swells even more.
"It is a truly horrible and devastating feeling, my dear. Rejection is plainly the worst of all emotions." She draws a breath, and I sense her come closer and sit on the bed. "But it does not kill anyone's spirit, unless they let it."
"I didn't know I could still feel this, Cassandra. I didn't know I still loved him so much." My voice cracks.
"Shhh now," she whispers, "this feeling is temporary, that is the good news. You must not think of him, or the look in his eyes. You must forget that he loved you, because as much as he may have done before, he does not anymore."
"B-but, Cass-"
"It is possible, Susie. And remember, although you cannot have Carlisle's love… you have Marcus. He loves you like no other, as much as he loved Anastacia, his first wife."
Upon the mention of Marcus' name, the burning starts to quell, and simmer. The memory of all those nights of love, fills my heart and the wound begins to close itself. I bring my hand to my chest, and my breathing slows, and becomes more natural.
Slowly, but surely, the pain dissolves into nothing but a void – a void that can only be filled by Marcus' touch. I need to feel his touch, hear his voice. And I need it now.
I know it has been hours, by the time I finally bring myself to sit up from the bed, but time does pass differently for vampires. Emilia hugs me, immediately. "Are you alright, now?"
I nod, and Cassandra embraces me too.
"What time is it?" I ask.
"Almost night-fall," Emilia answers, "we should go back now."
We fix the room up quickly, and slip out into the corridor. Making our way back to our quarters, Emilia dismisses any guards she sees, as I have no strength for any formalities to take place.
Once we're safely back above ground, and I'm back in my room, my two friends bid me good-night, as they have to get back to their rooms as well.
"Will you be okay, until Marcus arrives?"
Cassandra doesn't need an answer, but she still asks me, anyway.
"I'll manage." I say, meekly.
They both nod grimly, and leave. I'm alone again. Outside, I hear the evening descend, as people walk home, talking amongst themselves, and the sounds of an occasional vehicle passing by drum them out momentarily.
I lie back against my bed's pillows, and sigh sadly, closing my eyes. "Marcus."
"Yes, my sweet angel?"
I should be startled, at the very least. But I am not. I am only deeply relieved. I open my eyes. He's standing at the foot of the bed, gazing at me.
His gaze.
I almost weep again, but from joy. The look he is giving me is pure and honest. It says, "I love you more than life itself. I'd die for you. I will love you to the ends of time. You are the only one my heart desires."
He sees my reaction, and he's instantly by my side. "What's wrong, my Suzette?"
I shake my head, undo the clasp of his cloak and take it off him, leaving him in his white under-shirt and dark-blue pants. I guide his hands to my shoulders, and he takes the hint, sliding my dress-sleeves all the way down my arms.
All I want is to feel his touch all over me. To have his lips graze mine, and to hear him say he loves me. This is all I need for the wound to heal. This is all I need for the scar to disappear.
As I reach to undo his shirt buttons, he stops me gently. "My love, what is the matter? Tell me, please." He brings my hand to his lips, and kisses it.
"Nothing is wrong, Marcus. Everything's right." I say, in a voice filled with quiet peace.
He looks at me, and I really do wish to cry tears of complete and utter happiness, then and there. When he sees my expression change, his face falls. I know he's upset. He's misreading my reaction.
He thinks that seeing Carlisle again has made me long for him instead. He thinks I don't want him, or his love, anymore. Oh, how untrue!
"No, my love, it's not what you think."
I draw him closer, and kiss his mouth, until his lips part. His natural response inclines him to push me back against the bed, and run his hands along the length of my body. I grasp his shoulders, to keep him from breaking the kiss.
But eventually, he does.
"Tell me what you want, my Suzette, my darling."
I smile at him, and stroke his cheek. "Tell me you love me."
"I love you, my Suzette. I love you so much, that only heaven knows just how deep my love could run if it were a river. You're the only reason for happiness in my life."
His eyes, they shine as he says this. And I know that my one true love lies right here, as he always has. He's been right here, all along.
"Thank you, my husband."
It is the very first time I've called him that.
"My wife," he says, nuzzling my neck, "you always surprise me."
This is where I belong. In the arms of a man who truly loves me; in the embrace of a man I truly love.
The End