Heyyys…. *waits for the outburst from furious readers*
Yup. I officially died. That's why I didn't update. I'm terribly sorry to inform you that I just… snuffed it :p It took rather a long time to resurrect myself. So hey, seeing as I've recently died, don't come down too harsh on me. The experience alone was traumatic enough ;)
Oh alright… no I didn't die. That seemed like the best excuse though. I've decided to skip the countless apologies of why this update is late. Because, let's be perfectly honest, I bet you are all sick of them, *do I see lots of nods at that? Hmm?* especially seeing as my reasons are, more often than not, very mundane and pathetic. I am sorry, but my life has decided to complicate itself which means I haven't had time to even turn Hedgehog on sometimes… (dear me, now that sounds odd. Gah. :S You know what I mean. Hedgehog = laptop. .. Nope. Still sounds weird :p) let alone write.
The latest thing that's happened is that beloved Mouse has got WORMS! Yes. Wormies. (As in tapeworm…) bluueeuuch! (In case you didn't know that onomatopoeia, believe it or not, was the sound of me vomiting. What a nice image :p) I was very worried about her, but she went to the vet today, and, well apparently they give her a pill of sorts to get rid of the worm… and they think she'll be fine. (Everyone's been avoiding Mouse since they found out. Everyone devoid of moi. She's currently on my lap. Do you know WHY she got tapeworm? Because she brings back so many creatures… and the fleas on these creatures are apparently what caused her to get tapeworm. It's nothing serious, and I'm sorry If I've just put you off eating something :p (In all fairness, my dear mother told me she had tapeworm whilst I was eating. I shortly lost my appetite :p) I reckon it was that final shrew that did it (She brought in a live one this weekend. I saved it again, but honestly, the amount of times it tried to wriggle out of my hands you'd think it wanted to get eaten by Mouse!)
The response this story's gotten is staggering. Honestly. 1049 reviews? That's crazy. Really, amazingly crazy. I love the feedback. ADORE IT. Please don't stop reviewing! If you for some inexplicable reason go under the assumption that I don't read each review you're wrong! I cherish each one. Seriously, even if you feel obliged to inform me that I can't write, if there's a part of my awful editing that you just can't stand any longer, or if you don't like the way the story's going, or any constructive criticism at all for that matter. Just say.
But hey! I am back, and I'll still deliver badly edited chapters to you all! As long as you're prepared to read, I'll write them. I apologise, this is an extremely rushed A/N. I have an English essay to do, and no, it's not a fun prospect, but seeing as I've procrastinated it all weekend (and all Monday too :S) I really should do it now.
Now, onto this chapter: basically - I wrote a chapter and it was… massive. Really, it was too long. So I've split it into two. The problem is that most of the action you've been craving so much is in the second part… *hides* this chapter is what leads up to it. Please do read it though; I've actually given loads away this chapter. LOTS of little hints about the plot. And hey, you wanted an Edward POV? Well look here - you've got several ;)
Notice: this babble is (marginally) short. I feel proud of myself ;)
On-to-the-chapter-all-ready! Do enjoy!
What Happened Last Chapter:
He stood there, perfectly immobile for a few seconds. His perfect and unblemished skin seemed to glow with an ethereal light in the semi-darkness, though whether that was due to my rapidly tiring eyes or the angle of light I did not know. Time passed, I can't recall how long - but slowly he turned, uttering a sentence I didn't want to hear, a sentence I couldn't hear. I saw his lips move, and heard the desperation leak into his voice.
"I have to."
And this time I couldn't even try to stop him, because before I knew it, he was gone.
The cold surface of the floor against my cheek told me I'd fallen to the floor once more.
I didn't try to get up.
***
The Iridescent Irradiance
(A/N: Just to let you know - this first bit, she's dreaming. It's quite hefty so I didn't italicise it all. I don't know about you, but lots of words in italics tend to annoy me. No clue as to why. I just sort of grumble at the screen and mutter at it to 'right itself' … If it was shorter I would have - Oh, I'll shut up. I've rambled on enough all ready. Go read on, I'll meet you at the bottom :p)
Lucie's POV:
It was completely black; I could feel something flat and hard against my back; a dripping noise was in the distance. These were the only things, as of yet, that I understood. I could hear the steady thrum of my heartbeat too, matched with my shallow breathing, but that was all. I didn't know why I was here. Or even where here was for that matter. But I knew it was dark, and I knew I was alone.
Two things that I didn't particularly like the sound of.
I waited, not sure what I was meant to do. For some reason fear hit me. A sense that something was perceptibly wrong was rooted in my mind. The blackness seemed to stretch on forever. It was the sort of suffocating darkness that made me press my fingertips to my eyes gingerly to make sure they were open - though it made no difference either way. I couldn't see anything. It was that horribly dense, all encompassing darkness. Carefully, my hands sought something in the black, trailing along whatever surface my back was against. Cool and rough stone was beneath my trembling fingers. I felt across the floor, stopping when my hand became wet, coated in some unknown liquid.
That was when the light appeared.
Small at first, merely a pinprick of brightest white in the distance. Almost as suddenly as I noted its presence, a white hot pain flooded through me, and everything was illuminated. I threw my arms over my face to shield my eyes from the light.
I heard her name in the distance and my heart beat faster. There was a sound, a horribly pitiful scream echoing around wherever I here was. It was getting louder. Clumsily, I scrambled to my feet, which slipped against the wet floor. I was still shielding my face against the light. I could hear more voices… the screaming was muted now, a softly musical voice replacing it.
"I have brought her, master, as you commanded."
A convulsion of shock jolted through me. The voice was right next to me. Harmonious and thick. Demetri's.
I tried to scream - but I couldn't, my throat closed up from terror. In my haste to get away from the voice I stumbled, slumping to the floor as the brightness disappeared, dissipating so quickly I didn't have time to see my surroundings. Not able to make out who else was in the room.
It was a while - I don't know how long - before I heard anything else.
"Don't you understand?" A woman's voice, high from her evident panic. She seemed to be speaking with someone. Arguing with them. "I can't. I can't leave him."
"It must be done; our kind do not dwell with humans." This new voice was slick and cold, it resonated around the walls, making clammy sweat bead on the palms of my hands, still wet from whatever I'd come across in the darkness. "You may leave, Demetri - you have served me well." The sound of a door closing was faint. I strained my ears again when his remark was followed by sardonic laughter.
"Our kind?" She scoffed, but there was an edge to her sarcastic tone now, evident in her still higher pitch. "You and I aren't the same. No, I broke out of that years ago - if it wasn't for your… Henchmen, I wouldn't be here in the first place," - a silence, then, her voice so quiet I could barely hear it - "Why though? Why did you make me come back?…"
"I think you know the answer to that, Arielle." My breath caught. Not her. Not that name. Dizzying spirals flashed behind my eyes, I resisted the urge to wretch, now understanding who was talking.
"Do I?" Her voice was quieter still.
A derisive laugh filled the room, raspy, sinister - and horribly familiar.
"You belong with us."
"No! I don't - I won't - I'm not like you."
"How quickly you dismiss our connection, dear Arielle. Why is that? Why are you so quick to ignore the bond we share? One that not even you, who has broken many rules, can break."
"It's been ten years, Aro. Why? Why now?"I trembled, fighting back screams now. My suspicions had been correct. Aro. Always Aro. Forever following me. Never leaving me alone.
"Do not pretend," The soft voice - Aro's soft voice - had become a hiss, darker somehow, its malice mounting. "I know very well of what you've done. Impossible though I thought it was, I know now that you have broken my one commandment-" He was cut off though, there was a sound like backing footsteps, closer towards me now.
"One commandment? You had many - all ridiculous. You can't rule me anymore Aro. I made that choice when I was sixteen. I'm living proof that power doesn't bind, that your stupid elegy is nothing but words. I'm sick of it all. I'm sick of you. Sick of how superior you think you are. Let me leave. Now."
"I cannot do that."
"Why? I've done nothing-" There was a roar of indignation, a yell inhumanely high pitched, like a scream of contorted fury.
"Nothing? Nothing? You bear a child. For that I can't let you leave. Do you think that I am stupid? Didn't you learn from me? You cannot lie. Not when I can see so much. I know what you did, mixing with a mortal, trying to fulfil your dead mother's wish, were you?"
"Don't. Don't - just, just please Aro-" But he ignored her, and soon there was a choking sound, a whimper, I imagined white hands gripping her throat. He continued, while her gasps for air became less frequent. His voice was calm and emotionless.
"How long has it been? Not prominent yet I see, but soon it will be so. It will be disfigured - that is the case with humans. You should know that much. Why do you think you, yourself, are pitiable? Sharing blood with those who are destined for death." He spat, and her gasps for air became violent, I knew her body was trembling, and I became half desperate, half terrified for the light to appear again. To see them both; to try to help…
Aro's voice filled with disgust.
"They are tainted from birth, eternally imperfect, weak and feeble. That is all humans are. Your child will be ridden with disease, its faith mapped. You have disappointed me, Arielle. I expected great things from you and I get this?-" There was a horrible scream, and the sound of her body crashing against the wall and slumping to the floor.
There was a long silence then, and I felt my head swim. Retreating footsteps sounded, and then Aro's voice was far away, almost too faint for me to catch his words.
"It will not survive."
I felt myself fall then, but not before the room was flooded with light. Not before I saw her pale face and ash hair, her emerald eyes staring at me in horror. Not before I saw Aro's figure slip behind an iron door. Not before I noted the stone walls and tile floor.
And not before I saw the blood, coated on my hands.
***
(A/N: *I love that last line, sinister much? :p* Right then, I'm sorry for all the POV switches, but this is a dramatic chapter and I thought the whole choppiness of it might help. And yes, I was probably very wrong. Anyway - this next bit is shortly after Edward says: 'I have to' like the 'What Happened Last Chapter' snippet - confused? This is before that dream, set last night when he appears to have just… left, when in fact it's slightly more complex than that. After all, did he want to leave her? Still confused? Well, hopefully it will make more sense later on. Then again, maybe not…)
Edward's POV:
Complicated. That's what things are. Much too complicated.
I paced up my room again, restraining myself from jumping out the wide open window into the faint sunset just beginning to peak over the horizon, wanting to drown in the dim mixture of ochre and red.
My words to the injured girl, who had - mere hours before - been cradled in my arms, had been callous, hard. They were, in all senses, sharp and hateful words that were used - normally - to inflict harm on the other. To slight, offend, hurt. Yet I didn't want to harm her - quite the opposite, I wanted to protect her.
And this was where the problems arose.
My mind had been so infatuated, I hadn't been able to think straight. The time with her had been light, free. An entirely new feeling that I'd missed for so long. I'd felt so human. And then I'd felt resentful about my feelings, disgusted by the way I couldn't stop looking at her, at the way every single time she fell my arms would instinctively stop her fall…
She was overpowering me. The thought of her going to the Volturi, of them taking her, was more than I could bear. I couldn't let her get taken away; it just simply wasn't an option.
And yet with all of these thoughts running around my mind. Each as impulsive, and enigmatic as the rest, I couldn't explain it to her. I couldn't portray why I wouldn't let her come with me without revealing how much I did care.
So I'd taken up the offensive instead.
I'd been stupid.
I'd shouted at her, throwing a lies laced with terrible truth. The truth I feared each passing second that she would see, the truth that I couldn't even accept myself.
These last few weeks had been following a trend. A pattern I'd failed to notice. Each time she would get closer to me, and each time I'd be at a loss as to what to do next, so I'd tried to ignore her. It hadn't worked. Fury was what happened next, I had lashed out, wanting to scare her, to keep her away.
I'd decided, come to the only rational conclusion I could, that she and I were better apart. Far apart. Every rule seemed to twist around her, my charms didn't work. I couldn't hear her thoughts. My charisma was met by sarcasm; my rage by her fury; my strength by her determination. She matched each skill I possessed, could parry whatever I threw at her.
I couldn't help it. I could never organise my thoughts around her. Everything I knew seemed to just dissipate in her presence, because my thoughts would be only of her.
Maybe it was her thoughts - I reasoned to myself - or lack thereof, which intrigued me. Bella's had been a complete block, something that would constantly irk me, how I could never understand what troubled her. Lucie's was different, her thoughts and dreams pouring out of her when she slept. Though while awake, her mind was shut off - unattainable. Her thoughts kept under lock and key, continually out of my reach. I was constantly relying on her expressions, trying to decipher each one that flitted across her face - to work out who she was. She was infuriating, intriguing, and impossible.
And yet though her shut-off mind was maddening, in many ways I craved it. When I was with her there was that blissful silence, and I would momentarily forget that my heart no longer pulsed blood through my veins, I forgot that she and I were from opposite worlds, that I was inhuman.
Until the bloodlust rose up.
Each and every time it would hit with too potent a force but I had learnt to tame it, to resist the terrible urge to kill... That had been my reason for leaving Bella. Her blood was the most potent, more so than Lucie's, it sung to me, a drug that I wanted to be addicted to. Because it kept me sane, her scent, her blood…
Disgust filled me at my thoughts. The hidden dormant growling in approval of them.
I changed my path of thought, pacing up and down my room faster, resisting the urge to run back again. To hold her, to make sure she was alright. She's safe. I reminded myself for the umpteenth time. Carlisle said she was fine, she just needed sleep. Rest. That's all, there's nothing wrong…
But there was something wrong. Something was wrong with me.
I sighed and fell to my couch again, ignoring the furious thoughts of Jacob outside, already in his wolf form and ready to leave.
Hurry up leech. I've been waiting for frigging hours, and all you can do is mope. Bella could be dying-
I ignored him. What irked me so much was that I wanted to go. Wanted to find her, to save Bella, then rip the Volturi limb from limb… but I couldn't yet. Not when my thoughts were so confused and garbled, a mesh of chaotic hidden feelings. So I sat there, brooding and quiet, desperate to work out the question that had evaded me for so long: why?
I'd known Rosalie's vanity the instant I'd seen her first thoughts, not that they were needed. Her every act: the way she would glance in mirrors, the attention craving drawl, the casual flirting and haughty air showed as much. I didn't dislike Rosalie; I just didn't like her either. Rosalie used her beauty like a viper, something she'd slash out and bite people with, she knew of her beauty and used it. Relished in it.
But Lucie didn't even realise she was beautiful.
Maybe, A part of my mind reasoned, maybe that's why. Maybe you're just intrigued because of how she views herself… maybe…
But even my internal denies were futile.
It wasn't like Bella's beauty - Bella didn't seem to understand that looks from others at school were because of her. Not her personality, not her intelligence, but her beauty. That Lauren and Jessica's sneers were out of jealously rather than just immediate resentment. She had that classical porcelain skin other's envied, full lips, subtle curves, long dark hair… She didn't have to endure the improper thoughts of the generic Mike Newton. I felt, despite myself, my teeth grit. I wasn't bias; I could tell what others thought of her, an unfortunate power that came with being able to read their minds.
Lucie didn't have that. She was fairer, thinner and paler, ultimately sicker looking. It wasn't obvious that she was pretty, not when she hid her figure with her clothes, made no effort to make herself stand out, stayed quiet behind her blonde hair. She didn't send all of the boys' minds into a frenzy when she arrived. They hadn't fawned over her like they had with Bella, not all competing for her attention.
They swarmed to her sure - but that was custom. It was like throwing them some meat, and they all wanted to be the alpha male who could keep it. If Jessica (despite having little more than unruly curls and average intellect) had been 'the new girl' they would have reacted in the same way. They would have all flocked to her, curious and eager. But over a few weeks - days maybe - it would have dissipated, she would have become no more than like all the other girls in Forks. No longer a novelty. Bella had been shocked by all that, at a loss as to why their attention hadn't ceased…
Still, Lucie's looks did have an affect on Mike, who for some reason seemed even more eager even after Bella had turned him down. Bouncing right back… (The boy simply didn't learn, did he?) Even so, despite these subtle differences, she was like Bella in one respect.
Utterly obvious to herself.
Though I could see why her esteem was low. Why she couldn't see what other saw, what I saw. She had a sort of tarnished beauty. Like an opal before it was polished. Not clear at first, but horribly bright under the surface. The iridescent irradiance of it.
I hadn't seen that beauty at first.
But I had tonight, and by then it was already too late.
Because when I'd found her, staring up at me from the earth floor, her hair tangled and strewn across her face, dirt smeared across one ivory cheek and a mixture of hope and relief brimming in her emerald hazel eyes. I'd realised something.
She had never looked more beautiful. She was alive, alive and fighting. Refusing to get beaten by Demetri, that much was clear through the anger in her eyes - green dominant over the caramel. She stared at me, and time had seemed to just… stop. I'd held her gaze, and a thousand things had fitted together, all terrifying.
Yes. Lucie had just made everything much more complicated.
***
Lucie's POV:
I didn't know quite what to think when I woke up.
I was twisted in linen sheets, my legs tangled in the fabric, covers thrown off. It took me a few seconds to realise I was still convulsing, thrashing and trembling. Hair was stuck to my forehead and strewn across my eyes, held there by cold sweat. I shut my eyes briefly, only to find the image of her vivid eyes burned against my retinas. Aro's retreating steps rang in my ears; the feel of the damp walls; the smell of the metallic blood on my hands…
I sucked in air sharply, snapping my eyes back open, still fruitlessly trying to stop shaking.
I stood up, only to fall back against the bed again. I resisted the urge to pummel the soft quilt with my fist and yell out. I was so weak. I could barely stand properly without stumbling, last night's occurrences - now seeming so long ago in comparison to my most recent dream - flashed before my eyes and I let out a groan. God, I'd been so stupid.
"Lucie?" I looked up; standing by the doorway was Esme, looking anxious. I inwardly cursed myself for groaning. I tried to set my expression into what I hoped was an: I am okay sort of look.
I don't think it worked.
"Hey Esme," I said, with my attempt at a smile. Her expression didn't waver. She was by my side, carefully making sure I was back underneath the quilt again, I gave her an odd look. The slight tinge in my arm confirmed my theory that what had happened before hadn't all been just a big dream, despite how surreal it was. I could feel I was wearing the same clothes, and didn't know what feeling was more prominent. Disgust at wearing them for so long, or relief that someone hadn't changed them while I was unconscious. I settled on the latter.
It took me a few seconds to realise that Esme had now propped and fluffed some more impeccably white pillows and had thoroughly tucked me under the heavy blankets and Afghan quilt again. I began to feel uncomfortably hot.
"What, can't I get out of bed?" I joked, prying loose the covers as I said so.
Esme frowned.
Oh, you have got to be kidding me.
"Lucie," Esme started quickly, evidently at the look of sheer indignation that flashed across my expression. "You're not well honey-" She pulled my fingers loose of the covers, and settled them neatly by my sides. I didn't object, instead remaining unwilling compliant because of her words. Honey. I instantly felt sick. My father was the only person who'd ever really called me that and meant it. Esme continued, not noticing my blanch. "Carlisle and I have agreed to look after you while-"
"I'm not sick!" I said, surprised at how piqued my voice sounded to my ears. "I'm fine Esme, last night just happened because-"
"You're malnourished? Physically exhausted? Overwhelmed by shock?" Offered a voice from the door, I looked up to see Carlisle - now standing at Esme's side, assessing me. "Lucie, there's nothing wrong with you-"
"Then why-?" I began, aware that I was becoming slightly red.
"There's nothing wrong with you," Carlisle continued as if hadn't interrupted him, "but you need rest. Do you know how many days you've been running on non-existent energy? Or when you last ate a full meal?" I didn't answer either of those. I didn't know what made me feel more ill; the prospect of eating food, or the thought of how long I'd been without it.
Carlisle nodded, as if my facial expression was as good as an answer. "You need food, and rest Lucie. We don't want you getting sicker." Sicker. My mind whispered in a horrified tone. As in, already sick?
"I've just… not had time." My excuse was pitiable even when I tried to rephrase it. "What with being chased and nearly eaten by a few creepy bad vampires," Both Esme and Carlisle's expressions now seemed to be set in a frown of concern. Evidently they didn't see the humour in my words. Well, they probably did, it just wasn't very funny. "But I can eat if you want; I'm just not willing to stay in bed all day. What time is it anyway?"
Carlisle and Esme exchanged a nervous glance.
"All the same, Lucie," Carlisle said in a careful voice, "though you may think you feel better; I'd advise if you don't overstrain yourself. Your arm has a fracture in it-"
"But we're not discussing my arm, are we?" I said, just as carefully. I was fully aware how Carlisle was dodging my questions. My suspicion spiked.
"No," Carlisle gave, what might have been a slightly rueful smile. "You are far too astute for your own good Lucie." He said cryptically, "But my medical trainings leads to the same course of action. I still suggest you stay in bed regarding your condition-"
"What condition?" I was aware I was sounding impertinent, but I couldn't help it, Carlisle's cool hands had become iron restraints, pinning my arms to their sides.
"You passed out because of sheer exhaustion, both physical and probably physiological too. Your system's shot from not eating properly for days. You're practically dead on your feet anyway with the amount of sleep you've received recently, and the fact that you slept a solid 26 hours proves that your body needs-"
All of what Carlisle said had been deaf to my ears because of his last few words. I stared at him, mouth open, in utter horror. Dread slowly sinking into every pore in my body as my mind raced.
"Twenty-six hours?!" I shrieked.
***
(A/N: If you were wondering, yes, I am indeed trying to drive you insane with all of these POV switches. Why? Because I feel like being evil today :p You should give it a try - 'tis highly amusing.)
Edward's POV:
I could still smell Lucie's lingering fragrance on my clothes. It was an ethereal reminder of her, and it was distracting me. It's apple blossom… apple blossom and aromatic lily flowers… I snapped my mind back to the way we were running, trying to rid every thought I had of her. Fruitlessly trying to drown them out, listening to our synchronised heavy footfalls, the rush of wind, the whispers of the forest…
But every time I closed my eyes, she'd be staring right back at me.
It was Bella, I thought furiously, Bella who I want to save. Bella who I loved, who I would give anything for. Bella to whom I would give up my life. Bella who was trapped, Bella who was captured. We were together as one; no one could separate us, no one could come between us. My thoughts sounded so true, so real. I loved Bella. Just Bella.
Then why, why could I see her eyes when I closed my own? Why did I see hazel-green instead of brown?
The answer seemed in reach. But I didn't want to believe it. I couldn't accept it - I wouldn't accept it. Because it was impossible.
I found myself trying to visualise Bella's face. Warm, and happy.
But I couldn't do it. Each time I tried to picture her; I would full with that same feeling of dread.
Because each time, no matter how hard I tried to alter it, Bella would stare back at me, her eyes lifeless.
***
Lucie's POV:
Carlisle was carefully approaching me, like I was something delicate and skittish that might run if he advanced too swiftly. In fairness, I probably looked just that. I couldn't tell whatever look my face had adorned, but my heart was already hammering feverishly fast at his words last words: "What did you dream about?"
"How? I…" My voice had become tiny, as if the shriek I'd uttered minutes before had damaged my vocal cords. "I don't understand…How did you? I could have - wait, what if I didn't even have a dream?"
Carlisle knew, as well as I, that the last part wasn't an option.
It was Esme who spoke, her own voice was quite as quiet as mine - there was something troubled in her expression as she looked at me. An anxious edge was imbedded in her motherly features, and something - I couldn't place what - seemed… off.
"Well, you were shouting out a lot…"
I gulped, my suspicions dying, instantly afraid. Could this by why they looked so concerned? My mind raced ahead to what they could have worked out. I didn't want them thinking I was crazy, and I definitely didn't want to recount the dream again for them. Just experiencing it once was more than enough.
"What…" My throat had become thick "H-how much did I say?"
"Not much," Carlisle gave a quiet sigh. "Your words - devoid of the irregular yells - were mainly mumbled, just incoherent strings of thought. Dreams are an interesting subject, one of which I do not know much of, surprisingly enough." He gave out a slight chuckle, "Humans rely on involuntary thought to shape their mind as they dream. They should be merely a sequence of erratic and confusing images that share a relation to perhaps whatever the person in question was thinking of before they fell asleep. In fact, if you want more scientific terms, dreams are simply the random firings of neurone cells as interpreted by the more primitive aspects-"
Esme placed a light hand on his arm, smiling fondly up at him.
"I think you've hit the definition of 'dreams' quite accurately enough dear." Carlisle looked slightly sheepish.
"Forgive me," He said bashfully, "I am quite certain you have enough confusion for the time being without me going on about the functioning's of the brain,"
Well, he could certainly say that again.
"Now," He continued swiftly, his voice more intense than before, the seriousness of the situation paramount. "I want you to know that in normal cases I would blow off things like this. Sleep talking, sleep walking even - is a common trait. But…" He trailed off slightly, perhaps because of the look on my face.
"I'm not a normal case, am I?" I put in quietly.
"No," He gave me a rueful smile. "That you are not, Lucie. Please don't take this the wrong way. You are - despite minor issues that can easily be treated-" His eyes lingered slightly on my arm, "in perfect health. The only reason I have to worry is that schizophrenics often experience vivid dreams such as yours."
I think my expression looked probably a bit too alarmed at that.
"But," Carlisle hastened to add, "here, that is clearly not the case. My theory - and it is only a weak theory at that - is that your dreams mean something."
"Well yes," I said, slightly confused, but unable to completely hide my exasperation. "I'd already worked that much out thank you very much." I suddenly felt incredibly nervous, shocked that my words sounded so sulky to my ears. Esme looked somewhat amused by my now flustered complexion, "Sorry-" I added out of immediate guilt. "I didn't mean to sound so… ungrateful for everything. You know that I can't possibly begin to thank-" Esme cut across me.
"Lucie," She said quietly, "please don't. You're as much as part of this family as any one of us. You alone deserve to be cross with all the things you've been through. None of us resent you for that," But she looked a little worried when she said this, I knew why. She couldn't really say 'none of us' when I knew very well that Edward good as much despised me for what I'd caused him to forget. Briefly, a look past across her eyes, but I couldn't name it. Her expression twisted minimally for the briefest moment, fear alighting her butterscotch eyes - but as soon as it appeared it left. A delicate smile now on her face.
Carlisle brought me sharply back into focus.
"I'm sorry if I am being imprudent, but I must ask: can you tell me something? I am aware that the subject may be sensitive, but can you tell me something if it will help us all figure out this enigma that seems to be wrapped around you?" He said, not blinking as he stared at me, trying to decipher each emotion that flashed across my features.
Slowly, I nodded. His eyes never left mine as he spoke. I half knew the words before he'd uttered them.
"Who is Arielle?"
I didn't break eye contact, but I was aware of how still Esme was by Carlisle's side. Her frame freezing at her husband's words. For some reason, this struck me as slightly odd. I pushed the thought aside though, realising the thoughts I'd been holding back of her had been procrastinated long enough. I sighed quietly.
"Oh, her…" I said weakly. "She was my mother."
***
Thankfully, they hadn't pressured me to answer anymore questions after that. Carlisle had looked his usual calculating self, whereas Esme's eyes had widened fractionally, causing that same twist of something to kick into my stomach. I didn't have time to ponder the thought though, because seconds later Esme had brought up the topic of food. The next five minutes had been long. I'd fruitlessly tried to reassure both of them that I was fine, perfectly okay.
They hadn't bought it.
I hoped my façades weren't getting weaker. It wasn't a complete lie. I was fine in most physical terms, but I certainly wasn't emotionally. I'll admit that in one of my attempts to stand I'd winced slightly at the twinge in my ribs - that was enough for Carlisle to deem me incompetent at walking anywhere.
My arm, thankfully, felt fine. Carlisle informed me of how it had a fracture, which was why it was in plaster, but that it would heal quickly enough and that the painkillers would keep me from any discomfort. He'd also told me that he'd previously informed Forks High School of my absence, putting it down to a joint holiday that my father and he had organised. Apparently, claiming that I was ill would only rouse suspicion and worry, though this news had fallen onto deaf ears as my mind had raced. I hadn't been able to hide the flash of pain that shot across my features at the mention of my father.
But now Esme was back, carrying a tray of food, and gently placing it in front of me. Suddenly, Rosalie and Emmett were also in the room. I felt irrationally nervous all of a sudden. Do they all need to stand there and…watch?
I looked down at the food with trepidation. I really didn't want to eat at the moment, I felt slightly sick still, and my mouth was that horrid dry texture that one had after sleeping for too long. It reminded me of old paper. Carlisle must have seen something in my expression (which , I have to say, was probably a sort of demented grimace at this point) because he gave one of those little coughs designed for people to indicate that they wanted to speak.
"Do you want anything to drink Lucie?" He said helpfully, I nodded, then spoke when I realised he wanted me to specify what.
"Um, coffee please." I tried to resist the urge to scrunch my nose up at the mere thought of it. I didn't like coffee; it was too bitter, but I needed the caffeine.
The briefest of frowns flashed across Carlisle's usually smooth features, I knew he probably already knew my reason for wanting that particular beverage. That and the fact that in my condition, I almost certainly had a low tolerance for caffeine.
He was back by my side only a minute later, placing a mug of steaming coffee neatly on the white tray. I'd come to dislike the colour white. Everything was white here. It wasn't even the colour that annoyed me, just the connotations that arose with it. White bed, white pillows, white walls, white mug, white tray. Everything was too… sterile.
Stop thinking up excuses; just eat the damn food already!
I decided to ignore their anxious expressions and started eating the food placed in front of me, glad that it was just a simple dish with plain rice. (May I point out, plain white rice…) I tasted the meal cautiously, hoping I wouldn't feel nauseous. I knew I ought to eat - I needed to gain energy and strength, and it wasn't like I was concerned about gaining weight.
As soon as I'd placed the food in my mouth, I realised something:
I was starving.
I quite forgot that four pairs of eyes were watching me; that I was a guest here; that the people here didn't even eat the way I did. I think I forgot manners all together to be honest. I ate the meal with gusto, that until this moment I didn't know I possessed, shovelling the warm foot into my mouth gratefully. Not able to get enough, my stomach rumbling in satisfaction.
And then I remembered where I was.
My spoon fell back onto the tray with a clatter. I looked up to their faces, realising how repulsive all of that must have looked. I didn't know what to make of their expressions though. Carlisle looked satisfied; Esme relieved; Emmett amused and Rosalie… well, to be fair, did look repulsed. But she didn't comment as I caught her eye, turning her gaze to the wide windows. I felt embarrassment creep up my neck and face, and I spoke too quickly, the words tumbling through my mouth.
"I didn't mean to look - I mean eat - like a savage! I can - I didn't - I mean…I'm sorry."
Yes, because that made loads of sense…
Mortified, to top the fact that I was rendered utterly incoherent, I realised I had just spluttered out a mouthful of rice. One piece was stuck to my chin. My faced burned.
Great.
There was a long pause then, and I averted my eyes down eyeing the half eaten meal and discarded spoon, no longer sure I wanted to eat, and if so - definitely not with company. And then quite suddenly, Emmett let out a howl of laughter.
"God Luce, you have got to have more food here! I think that's the best entertainment I've had all day!" I lifted my head again, and gingerly picked up my spoon. Grimacing weakly as he continued to snicker, he gave me an impish grin, "Who'd of thought a pretty girl like you would be so filthy!"
Rosalie gave him a slap at that.
Carlisle laughed, "Well, Esme and I will leave you be then Lucie," He said to me gently. "Eat up, there's plenty more where that came from." I nodded, still red faced, and he and Esme left the room. Esme handing me a tissue to clean my face with on her way out. Rosalie and Emmett stayed though. For some reason, this struck me as rather odd.
I ate slowly now, making quite sure that I didn't look like a deranged animal.
"Err," I struggled with something to say, after the stretch of silence. "You don't need to… keep me company. I promise I won't choke on the rice or anything." Emmett raised an eyebrow at that in speculation. As if doubting that I couldn't even survive against a bowl of rice. I ignored him. "I mean you don't need to supervise, I will finish it all - If Esme asked you to-" Rosalie cut me off.
"Don't worry about it Lucie," She said, surprisingly quietly, but still staring out of the window as she said it. I hadn't noticed the colour of the sky. It was a pale mauve; a sunset was just beginning to form. "We're not staying because of Esme."
I looked at her pointedly.
"Who for then?" I asked sceptically. I highly doubted that they wanted to be around me willingly. I wasn't exactly fun at the moment. It occurred to me that I didn't know what an earth the Cullens did in there free time. Snatches of bits of Bella and Jasper's pasts flickered in my mind. It seemed as though they spent most of their time together, intimately.
I blushed for what felt like the fifth time at that, and abruptly tried to think of something else. But there wasn't much else. The male Cullens liked to play fight, and Alice and Rosalie would shop, but otherwise they remained to themselves and partners. Well, apart Chess competitions between Edward and Alice. Emmett coughed - sharply bringing me out of my stupor.
"Why, we're here Luce, on nobody's account. We just want to be with you because we think you're a witty individual!" He said in an overtly jovial tone. I raised my eyebrows.
"Right." My voice dripped sarcasm. Emmett thought for a moment, and then looked at me mischievously.
"You know Luce," I scowled at the nickname that he still hadn't dropped. "I just remembered something; I have a new favourite word: emasculation..." He grinned, I wanted to be annoyed at him, but I couldn't. I just rolled my eyes tiredly.
"Emmett-" I half whined, half sighed amusedly, "we already had this conversation, I do not want any specifics on the matter. And besides, you'll make me lose my appetite."
"Ah, I don't think that will happen. You looked ravenous seconds before." I couldn't do more than splutter when he mentioned that, flushing again. At this rate, I wondered if my complexion was going to be permanently florid. Emmett only grinned broadly at my humiliation. "And personally, I think it's my duty to inform you all about how-" I cut across him, putting my hands over my still-red-face.
"No Emmett! No. I don't want to hear it-"
"Oh c'mon, a little light-hearted discussion can't hurt, can it?" He persisted.
"No," Rosalie drawled unexpectedly, "but it could probably scar the poor girl." She finished in a bored voice, idly studying her hair, searching for nonexistent split ends.
"Are you speaking from experience?" I questioned. Taking my head out of my hands to see her reply properly, instead of squinting in-between my fingers as I'd done before. Rosalie finally looked at me, a calculating look set in her features, before she slowly smiled at me.
"I do have a lot of experience on related topics," She murmured with a coy grin.
Suddenly, I really didn't want to be in the same room with them anymore.
My saviour arrived in the form of Esme; she gave Emmett a stern look before turning to Rosalie and then speaking to me.
"I think it's time you got cleaned up. Rosalie, how about you show Lucie to the shower."
Thank god Alice wasn't here.
***
Edward's POV:
I could barely smell Demetri's scent now, and neither - it seemed - could Jacob. (Unless there was another reason for his continued string of profanities.) Though judging by his continued mantra of 'die bloodsuckers. Die.' that he continued to shout in his mind, it could have been one of two things that unleashed his foul tongue. One; that he too hated the Volturi and wanted to beat them to an inch of their life, or two; that he hated me despite our mutual agreement, and blamed me for what had happened.
I'd been quite enjoying the silence though, true, I could hear Jacob's thoughts, but over the years I'd learnt to drone out things like his internal rants, to an extent anyway. Jacob couldn't speak when he was in his wolf form, now the only thing I could hear was his gruff breaths, and the patter of our synchronised bounds through the dense trees.
I was pulled abruptly out of my thoughts as Jacob voiced his own.
"You know, I really don't like you leech." Jacob spat, his dark eyes laced with hatred. Right. I'll take option two then: he just hates me anyway. I looked at him, he'd phased too quickly for me to notice, engrossed in my thoughts as I'd been, standing only in a pair of worn out jeans torn roughly at the knees.
I refrained from kicking him. So the dog didn't like me? It wasn't like this was some hidden secret, it might have been, but it wasn't exactly news to me that he didn't like me. Not when he kept thinking of me burning. Yes. Burning.
Well in all fairness I was very near to thoughts of killing him at this point as well. (Mine were not, I hasten to add, quite as sadistic as his though. I never knew the mutt was so creative.) I gave him a look to match his sardonic leer.
"Don't worry," I said, trying as hard as I could not to keep the venom out of my tone. Provoking him into a fight would not help anything. Not now. Not when we were trying to unite (futile effort though it clearly was.) "The feeling is mutual."
"Stay out of my head." He snarled. Oh, if I could I would. Disturbing though images of myself on fire undoubtedly were - the ones of him and Bella wrapped in a passionate embrace were worse. Much worse. My tone became angrier.
"I assure you it's not on purpose," I whispered back, just as darkly.
"If it's not on purpose, then how's it happening? Just ignore me."
"Trust me; I've been trying to do so for this entire hour."
"Don't change the subject Cullen, stay out of my head."
Oh just drop dead already, dog.
"Well it doesn't help that you're practically broadcasting your thoughts. How about, just for once, you shut up."
He did, glowering off as we walked.
"So what?" Jacob said suddenly after are brief silence. He whirled around to face me, his features set in an expression of such loathing that it looked like he was in pain. "You're just a snobby, arrogant, bloodsucking vampire. I can say - or in this case, think - whatever I like."
"Charmed, I'm sure."
"You can't have everything, Cullen. You know as well as I that Bella isn't decided on who she wants, and you know I'm better for her." Ah. So that's what this is about. I should have suspected as much.
"Yes," I said icily, "because dating a werewolf is the pinnacle of safe these days."
Jacob scowled. Then started to walk faster abruptly, I almost felt like sprinting ahead of him, I'd forgotten just how slow humans were. Even if he was a werewolf, and faster than most in his human form, he was still undeniably slow in comparison to myself. Humans always were.
My thoughts made something clench in my chest, I hated the way part of me saw them like that. Saw them the way Aro and his lot did, as humans, as weak. I looked at Jacob then, wondering if he'd watched the self disgust flit across my face, but he wasn't looking at me. His features were instead se in a rictus of fury.
We carried on, walking in complete silence, well - silence for him maybe. It wasn't silent for me, not when I could hear about the hundred ways I could get killed through Jacob's thoughts. They stopped jut after he'd envision holding a stick with my head on it, as Jacob turned towards me mid walk - a look in his eyes that was quite unlike his childish fantasies.
"I've got more control." He growled. I was too angry with him to contemplate this fully, retorting on instinct to his competing tone. Though I knew exactly what he was talking about.
"Sam thought that," I shot back, feeling brief vindictive satisfaction as his russet complexion paled slightly. The haunting image of Emily was now imprinted in his mind, "and look what happened to the person he loved. Some control you've got. How close have you come to it? To lashing out?"
"Never," I was surprised to hear the slight shake in his tone now, "I've never even considered hurting her." I hadn't realised we'd stopped. But we had. Staring at each other, feet apart eyes never leaving the other's face. "Which is more than can be said for you…" Jacob whispered thickly. "Can you honestly say you've never considered, never been tempted, to kill her?"
Something dark and cold seemed to have gripped my dead heart. I felt an icy wave crash over me.
"Can you?" Jacob asked fervently.
"No. I can't." I said, loathing the truth.
And I hated myself, because I'd listened to Jacob's words, heard the fervour in his thoughts… and I was no longer sure which of us loved Bella more. The boy, young and boisterous, was more mature than I could have ever imagined when it came to loving Bella. The truth of the matter was like a stake to my heart (no pun intended) Jacob deserved her.
I didn't know quite what to think. My thoughts of Bella were mixed, haphazard opinions like restless butterflies that were refusing to settle, swirled around my mind.
Mixed? What? No. You love her. She's the only person you've loved - the only person you'll ever love.
I had two arguing states of mind, both maddening. I finally settle on what I knew to be fact. I cared for Bella. I cared for her to such an extent that I wanted her to be happy, and if the only way she could obtain happiness was by being with Jacob I would…accept that. I made that choice long ago. Bella wasn't a possession. She wasn't mine…
The truth was though; I couldn't bear it anything happened to her. In fact, I knew that while I was in this state of mind, I would personally hunt the culprit and torture him (or her for that matter) to death…
When in fact, the only real culprit in the situation was me.
I was the reason she was getting hurt.
***
Lucie's POV:
I'd washed in that ludicrously large shower, not enjoying one second of the mercifully warm water that cascaded down my back. My mind had only worked furiously to decipher the dream I'd had earlier. My mum was in it… She'd looked younger than I'd seen her when she was little. There was more youth than I'd seen before in her features, none of the troubled expressions I'd gotten so used to as a child. A block formed then, my mind not permitting me to remember exact details of her. These thoughts only led me to the ones about my father, and I'd felt tears spring to my ears, no longer able to convince myself that it was only water from the shower falling around me. Gingerly, making sure I didn't slip on the wet floor, I stepped out and wrapped myself in a fluffy soft towel.
I should have guessed what colour it was really. White again. I found myself scowling when I caught glimpse of myself in the mirror, continentally placed in front of me, steamed up slightly from the heat of the shower. I still looked too thin; it was more pronounced when I only had a towel around me. I didn't linger on my face; dismally seeing how pronounced my cheekbones looked. My skin taught unhealthily, pallor only emphasising it all. I picked up the clothes Rosalie had picked out for me. Some what looked like plain (though I knew they were probably designer) jeans and a pale ivy green top.
I shrugged them on, and noted how intricately designed the top was. It was almost like a bodice, with woven cream lace and ribbon fastening the piece together. It fitted me perfectly, but I didn't want it to. The swooping hemline only revealed one of my less appealing bruises from where I'd fallen from Felix's strike. It stuck out against the ivory of my skin, a deep bluish purple. I brushed my hair so that it rested over my collarbones, concealing the bruise.
I stepped out of the bathroom to see Rosalie perched on the edge of her bed. Her room was massive, but I liked it. Solely for the reason that it wasn't white like everything else. I wasn't sure about her choice of bed covers though - a deep scarlet.
"Could I have a jumper or something?" I asked hesitantly. She looked up, her eyes raking my figure.
"Why? That looks perfect on you."
I sighed, lifting my hair to reveal the bruise.
"Ah," She winced slightly, "I see. Wait a moment; I think I have something that will go with that."
Why, why did she need to find something that matched? I was perfectly happy with a big baggy jumper. In fact I was pretty darn sure that I'd prefer one of those. Baggy jumper any day, but tight clothes and lace? No thanks.
"You're as bad as Alice." I muttered under my breath, wondering as soon as I'd said the words where she was. The memories of last night made sense now. Alice had obviously seen Bella get captured… I remembered her telling Jasper to go, and assuming it was because he couldn't stand my scent. But it hadn't been that. She'd told him to go out to Bella; she'd been planning to follow him…That was what she'd blocked from Edward before when he'd carried me back… I felt stupid at how slow I'd been.
Rosalie appeared back in front of me in less than a second, passing me a cream coloured cardigan. I blinked slightly at her fast reappearance.
"I wouldn't say that," She smirked, "Trust me; this is tame in comparison to what Alice would have picked out." She looked me over once more, "And besides - green suits you, matches your eyes. And Edward likes lace…" I jerked my head up to look at her at that.
"Why pick out something that Edward likes though?" I asked, unable to stop my slight change in tone, frowning. "It's not like he's going to rush back to appreciate it." My words seemed bitterer after I'd said them. Rosalie stared at me for a long moment before replying.
"You're still upset about last night, aren't you?" She asked quietly.
I shook my head, weaving around her to sit down on the large bed.
"What were the last words he said to you, when you were arguing before I mean?" Rosalie enquired un-expectantly. I frowned at her, not knowing why she wanted to know. My voice sounded dull to my own ears, disgustingly lifeless as I remembered his irate form.
"He said that it was his fault…but that I was the reason Bella wasn't safe."
"What were his exact words?" Rosalie persisted. I pretended to struggle with this in remembering. When in fact I had the exact words burned into my mind. After a slight pause I said them, unable to completely quell the shakes in my voice.
"'Because I didn't protect her, I didn't even try to protect her. I forgot everything and everyone that wasn't you.'"
Rosalie looked incredulous.
"Then how," Rosalie began in an exasperated tone, "did you ever come to the conclusion that he didn't care for you? Can't you see?" The honest answer was no. But I didn't dare say it. Rosalie looked quite maddened, her reaction was honestly scary. I realised she was waiting for an answer, but I couldn't quite bring myself to speak.
"Um…No?" My answer had turned into a question. Rosalie let out a frustrated exhale of air.
"Honestly Lucie, Edward - cryptic though he was, hell, cryptic though he always is - was basically telling you that he couldn't keep his eyes off you. He was so wound up around you that he forgot Bella, and so well he should when she was voluntarily spending time with that dog-"
"Jacob." I interjected quietly. However much he disliked me, however many dark looks he'd given me, however much he blamed me for Bella's absence - I didn't appreciate the way he was talked about. True - he referred to the Cullens in a plethora of derogatory ways: leeches; parasites; bloodsuckers… but somehow the way Rosalie and Edward called Jacob dog seemed harsher, more malicious, in their silk voices, laced with an underlying hate that was too abnormal to be human.
"Whatever," Rosalie muttered, though not before eyeing me curiously, as if confused to why I'd stick up for him, "my point is: He should have forgotten Bella. In all senses she was just as safe with the wolf pack as with us. Believe me - Edward specifically made us check, the worrier that he is. Bella's safety has always been a thing to top his list, and yet he blamed himself when she found out they had her."
She stared at me meaningfully for a few seconds. "Heard me? Himself. Edward doesn't blame you. The stupid guy just blames himself… it's what he does. Trust me, when you've known the guy as long as I have you tend to pick up on his faults."
"Don't forget precocious," I said, though I couldn't quite bring myself to smile, "I don't understand why others are swayed by that age disguise he puts up. It's obvious he's not seventeen." Rosalie smiled slightly at that, but looked utterly serious when she spoke next.
"But you're still hurting yourself over it," She murmured quietly. I was about to protest against this, assure her I was fine, but she added quickly, "Don't apologise. You hide it well enough, but I can see you're still upset - and you shouldn't be. His anger rules him Lucie; don't cut yourself up about what he said, especially when there was an underlying message in it all."
"And what was that?"
"Just listen to his last words again, Lucie: I forgot everything and everyone that wasn't you…" I stared at her, my lips falling open slightly as something inside me clicked. I instantly discarded it. That's impossible. My rational side whispered. She gave a small sigh, "Isn't that clear enough?"
"But-"
"Not 'buts' Lucie. Mark my words - Edward hasn't given up on you yet. So stop it. Stop being upset over something you don't understand."
"No, I'm not-" I struggled for words. "It's just that…" I carried on sounding inarticulate as she looked back at me in silence. But I felt myself, despite everything, get fed up. Piqued by the patronising tone that her voice had taken. "Look, I'm not upset about it." But my voice portrayed the lie, and Rosalie sighed, no longer in exasperation - but in annoyance.
I held in a sigh myself; I didn't want to talk about this anymore. My head hurt, I decided to change the topic, I wasn't ready to think about Edward right now. It felt like all I had been sure of before had just been proved wrong, my feelings were in disarray - and it had given me a headache. "Look, It doesn't matter. I'm perfectly fine how it is, and I feel guilty for messing up everyone's life so much. But Bella's important, her life's at risk. And it's not like he cares about me - well, not in that way. Not in any way…" My words were rushed, and I instantly wish I'd kept them to myself, I felt heat flood my face.
But the atmosphere in the room had changed. Rosalie's exasperation seemed to vanish, replaced instead by something much worse. She stiffened, my disjointed sentence hang in the space between us, and I knew in those tiny moments of stillness that I'd said something terribly wrong.
She spoke very softly, but her tone was disbelieving and harsh.
"Doesn't care?" Her voice was deadly silent.
"-and he shouldn't-" I said quickly, furiously trying to work out whatever mistake I'd made, but Rosalie stepped towards me menacingly, abruptly irate.
"Do not," She hissed venomously, "tell me that he doesn't care Lucie. Not after all that's happened. Not after everything you've been through and everything he's been through."
"I-" But she didn't let me finish.
"Don't." Her voice was quivering, "Don't act like you're oblivious. I'm sick of that from him; I don't want to be cross at you too." (I'm sorry, but wasn't she already cross?)
"I don't understand what you mean..." I whispered.
"Do you know what happened after you blacked out?" She asked rhetorically, but I shook my head anyway. "He came out of the kitchen carrying you. And he didn't look at any of us. He just stared at you, as if doing that would somehow make you wake up. He talked to Carlisle, demanding that he looked after you-" I felt the air leave my lungs.
My previous retorts had frozen on my tongue, Rosalie noticed my catch in breath, but she continued relentlessly, her words flowing almost too quickly for me to catch them. Like they had been thoughts she had kept pent up for too long.
"He kept shouting at us all. And it was awful Lucie. I've never seen him more upset, Carlisle kept repeating, 'She's fine Edward, she's alright,' but he'd just kept staring at you. Shaking his head and muttering. He made sure you were okay about five times before he set off with that dog - I mean Jake or whatever he's called - despite how many times it taunted him. It kept shouting: 'What about Bella? Don't you love her anymore?' and… and then Edward looked like he was about to break. He'd been torn by making sure you were fine, and running off to save Bella and it was killing him…"
Rosalie's voice sounded like it was going to break; I could only stare at her.
"He insisted that we watched you until you woke up, then told us you needed to eat a lot. He stayed by your side until the very last moment. We all saw how much he didn't want to go… he wouldn't leave until he knew you were aright…"
And then we were both silent. I sank to her bed again. My head swirling with too many impossible thoughts. Too many things that couldn't be true.
"Come with me." Rosalie said abruptly, dragging me to my feet. She pulled me out of her room, (none too gently) her perfectly manicured hands were ice cold, her grip firm. And I only distantly realised she muttering slightly about how slow I was, then correcting herself on how slow humans in general were, before opening a door, and thrusting me forward into a room that I didn't take long in recognising.
Edward's room looked exactly the same as the last time I'd seen it. The window was open, a slight breeze ruffling the pages of a book on the floor, and the black couch still had its pillows arranged neatly on one side. It all looked untouched.
Rosalie was across the threshold faster than I could blink, bending down, and pulling out something from under Edward's bookcase. She then walked purposefully back to me, a sketchbook clasped in her hands.
She was bright in the darkness, her hair falling in cascades around her face - the complexion of shimmering pearls. Her eyes, I saw, were a surprisingly light shade of gold considering her anger. Her beauty was so stunning it almost hurt my eyes. But there was something beneath her beauty, some hard and cold. And I didn't understand it.
"Look at that Lucie," She whispered harshly, and I was shocked to hear the shake in her voice. It was not, I realised suddenly, contempt in her voice, but pain. She was not angry at me; just hurt. She was the one who seemed upset. Upset over Edward's suffering. It was sorrow rather than anger that had caused her hostility. She spoke quietly now, silently daring me to contradict her next words.
"Look at that and then tell me he 'doesn't care'…"
She pushed the book into my hands, and a tiny gasp escaped me. This was my sketchbook. The very same one I'd dropped all that time ago in the forest when I'd seen Bella and Edward. My fingers started to tremble; I turned the page, recognising my rough sketches of inanimate objects. Flicking past the one of him in a meadow, and then stopping dead when I saw images that I'd never drawn.
There were about five of them. One on each page. Meticulously drawn portraits with a detail I'd never been able to master in art woven in to them. Each one had a tiny annotation at the bottom, written in that same elegant script that I'd come to associate with only one person. I read them through blurred eyes, not surprised when a tear hit the parchment.
Edward Cullen: Illumination.
On each of those five pages, there was a drawing of me.
***
…So, how was it?
Can any of you remember Edward staring at Lucie when she was on the sofa? And when she noticed he was holding something? *cue the confused faces and mumbles of: 'No….') well, if by some miracle you do remember that (in which case I congratulate you on such astute reading) then hey - look what he was drawing all along. :p
Okay, I know that this chapter seems like a bit of a filler… but please keep in mind that it's preparation for the next one. (Was that Cullen interaction? Anyone?! - If Rosalie comes across as at all back to her supposed narcissist ways then I'm sorry. This is not the case. The spite she seemed to be radiating and directing at Lucie was because of Edward. She - I think - wants him to accept her more than anything at the moment, this story is set before eclipse, and Edward did have a slight issue with her after she let slip that Bella had merrily plunged to her supposed demise :p So in that last bit she's more angry at Lucie for being so blind to everything (she's not alone there). Annnnnd… I'll shut up. I'll end up giving too much away :p
Speaking of giving too much away: there were lots of little plot hints in here. So there! :p
Personally, I'm undecided as to whether it's good or not. I loved the chapter as a whole…. But it's split into two. And I prefer the second half, which I will post soon ;) But I'll let you be the judges. Please do inform me if I've turned awfully rusty at writing (and typically, I'm now envisioning myself as a bike that's turned all brown. That's the first thing that pops into mind with 'rusty' :p)
There is a reason for me updating late on a Tuesday, as apposed to at the weekend. It comes down to impatience on my part. It would more sensible to update on a Saturday, but hey, you never know, perhaps I've brightened up someone's day? *snort - okay, maybe not…*
But it's mainly because I feel INCREDIBLY guilty (honestly, absurdly guilty! I've been getting that awful twisty feeling in my stomach…Oh I am sorry!) For being… dead for so long and I've decided to update roughly a week from today. *Cue the cheer* Oh, speaking of that date I have some news too. (Exciting huh?) I shall soon be anciently old. 15. Yup. OLD huh? ;) (I'm just joking - I do not mean to offend you all. I'm well aware that people on here are much older than that. You're lucky. You've already had to suffer through school.) So yes, by this time next week, I'll no longer be able to use my age as an excuse for bad chapters and poor writing. Drat. However, in turning the age of 15 I prophesise that I will became fractionally wiser. Do you agree? I also want to update my seriously old profile. But I just… can't face it yet. There are too many errors… I cringe when I look at that and the early chapters of this story. Ah well ;)
So yes - I am still here and I hope you'll stick with me, because I will keep updating this.
To an anomalous reviewer, leprauchan: Thanks for your honest comment; I am sorry if this is becoming repetitive. It stops here. It was there for a reason, and hopefully with more chapters you'll see why. As for Lucie fainting - the majority of times she hasn't been fainting. That last chapter was more of a collapse of utter exhaustion than anything else, and as for her being so weak that her only options are dying or becoming a vampire… well. I don't think they're the only options. Besides, this chapter was really a 'recovery' chapter for her. I really do urge anon reviewers to get an account! Bah! The amount of times I've had brilliant reviews from anon reviews and can't reply… it drives me crazy! :p To everyone that hasn't even reviewed, but reads this, thanks. And if you assume I don't have time to read reviews that'snotthecase!! I cherish each one, really. I'll try to reply to reviews more often too from now on. 9By the way, I didn't receive any demand for Sneaky Peakys! You are all such fools! Honestly, the amount of blackmailing you could have given me! I'd have leapt at the chance ;D)
Also, I want to thank fanpiremari for her lovely reviews, they really helped me through my hectic little life and, of course, Jade Lyssy Swan. For providing me with chapters to read, for sticking through with my babbling and rants and (most importantly) for promising to never spontaneously vanish on me. And last, but certainly not least, a ginormous thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter.
Oh - and I've never properly thanked (see? Good lord, look at all these 'thank you's I'm giving out) be everyone for adding me to their author alert list, or favourite author/favourite story list or just story alert!! So here: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH :D
If you're still reading this story, then heck, you are incredibly patient. Thanks.
Next chapter: There'll be romance *I know. Long time no see huh?*; there'll be action *HORRAH!*; there'll be a PLOT TWIST *didn't expect that, eh?* so yup. I'll be updating a lot sooner too. So there. That's about all I can do apology wise. :p Ohh, I know, how about I give a slight sneak peek here, good idea? Yes. Yes, I think it is.
Coming Soon Next Chapter…
Edward's POV:
"No." I said slowly, Alice's eyes sparked in vexation.
"What?" She hissed, "Edward. No - we don't have time for this - stop being prejudice, Jasper's there already; I had to leave him, so that he can stop it if it gets any worse. And I left to tell you, there's no time Edward. And anyway he-" She pointed at wildly Jacob, "will get Bella - you need to get Lucie before-"
"You know, it's exceptionally rude to point," Jacob cut across her peevishly.
"Shut up!" Alice yelled at him, losing her normal calm, the fire in her gaze stopping Jacob from interrupting further. I heard his thoughts as if from far away. Crazy. She's actually crazy. I should have realised there was something wrong, she is freakishly small… My own mind was racing, but my brain was sluggish, unable to think straight as Lucie's wide eyes obscured my thoughts yet again.
"Edward," Alice advanced to me, gripping my arm, "Please. You can't just say 'no' not now, not when-"
"I didn't mean that." My voice was quiet. My thoughts still too slow. "I mean-" God, why couldn't I think?! "I mean who - who did Aro send?"
"He's sent-"
But I didn't ever get to hear who Alice had sent. Because right that second I had three different thoughts that weren't mine crashing into my head. Alice's, Jacob's and my own were all on the same train of thought - having heard the unmistakeable sound of footsteps in the distance.
But there was another set of thoughts. Darker, sharper and hungrier than ours.
And that was the precise moment in which Victoria sauntered into the clearing.
***
Ooooohh! And that's only a taster of the action :D (Be honest, you assumed I'd forgotten about dear Vicky, didn't you?) And look - Alice is still here, never fear. She's pretty cross there though…
I'll say one more thing about next chapter: Lucie's 'gift' shall come into action once more. The question is whose past will she see?
Anyway - I hope this chapter, the prospect of another one soon, and that exclusive sneak peaky have earned me some redemption. Am I forgiven? (No. Probably not ;p) Ah well: Don't forget to REVIEW!
Have a BRILLIANT week!
Lily - She has a sarcastic thought right now: "And whoop. It's essay time!" she also, rather dismally, notes that her babble is not as short as she'd first predicted… :p