Title: A Past Revealed
Author: Dreaming of Forks
Beta: Beta Needed - The first few chapters that I have written on my own and I have edited the ferociously, but as writers we always seem to miss things. It would be nice to have another perspective on the plot as it develops. An experienced beta is preferred. I do expect that this will become fairly long.
Disclaimer: The Twilight Series, and all that encompasses it, is the property of Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. I am just borrowing the characters and promise to give them back, but not after a little suffering of course. Any original characters are of my own creation, and are only added to support the movement of the storyline. I am not a big fan of Mary Sues anyway.
Timeline: This will pick up shortly after Twilight, during the summer before New Moon. I wanted to pick a time that was spoken of in the series and would not conflict with the events in New Moon. I can't guarantee that will not change as the story progresses, but I will try my best. Some spoilers for Eclipse and Breaking Dawn may also exist.
Summary: What if some else could hear Edwards thoughts? How does his mind reading ability connect to his human past? Beth Sutton, a seemingly average college student, might just get to find out, whether she likes it or not.
Authors Note: While reading the Twilight Saga, many questions have often formed in my head. Perhaps, I just have an eye for details, but sometimes my mind gets off on tangents, and stories like this are born. Edward always has the freedom to read others minds, except Bella, and see their deepest thoughts. What if the tables were turned, and someone else could read his mind? Or even interact with him through the channel of his mind? How might he react?
I started writing this story as a way to answer that, but also found that I had several questions about his past that are not necessary explored in the book. How did he come to possess his mother's wedding ring and pendent in Eclipse? (Vampires don't necessary inherit things by legal channels, since technically they no longer exist to their human friends and families) What might his relationship been like with his mother?
I have developed an original character for this story to reveal some things about Edward's past, and to force him to have to grow as a character. Bella and Alice will also play a role in the story, but may not show up until little later. The story is told through Beth's POV and Edward's POV.
While I have written fanfiction off and on for several years for my own entertainment, this is the first time that I have published any of it, and my first attempt at Twilight. I hope you enjoy it. Feedback of any kind is welcomed.
Preface
I slowly ascended the stairs, reluctant to start the task at hand. The attic of our old house had always given me the creeps as a kid, and it was doing much better for me now. Gran had been gone for nearly six weeks now, but her presence still lingered strongly for me everywhere I looked. I could barely enter the other rooms of the house I had shared with her, let alone even think about beginning the process of packing away her things. Reminders still lingered nearly everywhere, except for the old dusty hole I was about to enter. I'd rarely been up here in the time that I had lived with Gran, usually complaining about the smell or too scared to enter.
The top step protested under my weight, as I jiggled the key in the worn lock. After a few seconds, the old door swung open slowly with a loud groan, obviously from lack of use. Warm, stale air assaulted my senses, smelling strongly of moth balls, dust, and exposed wood.
I sneezed twice, wondering again why I was even up here.
Piles of boxes, unused furniture, and other forgotten items seemed to stretch endlessly, scattered throughout the large room. One small window, at the far end of the space, created just enough light to illuminate a small path that wound through the clutter.
I suspected that much of this stuff went back for generations, and was just inherited and discarded as the house had been passed down through the family. My grandmother had grown up in this house, and even raised my mother here. The Ryder family was proud of their heritage, and nothing had ever been thrown away by the older generations, in hope of keeping traditions alive and heirlooms treasured. Much of that changed though, when my parents had died suddenly in a car crash when I was eight. I had been sent to live with Gran, and been raised in this house myself the past twelve years of my life. She kept many of the family stories alive, telling them to me as a child, but left many of the items she had inherited up here to be forgotten. The items had become painful reminders of happier times, and life had moved on in a different direction for both of us, as the only members of the family still living in the area. Now, I was the only one that remained.
Being a pack rat must run in the genes. I laughed to myself sadly, trying to shake loose of the despairing thoughts. I sighed, and got to work, spreading out several boxes to survey their contents.
After nearly an hour, I stopped to access my progress. And, it wasn't much.
I glanced over towards the far side of the room, looking for more empty boxes for sorting. Sunshine filtered through the dirty pane of the window, as my eye caught a flash of something gold low to the floor.
Wonder what that is?
I moved closer to examine the source.
Under several large boxes, the corner of a large leather trunk trimmed in gold tacks peeked out near the floor. Two thick leather straps encircled its body, and hung loosely down the front, probably used for securing the lid during travel. The trunk appeared to be very old, and had obviously been long forgotten, as suggested by its buried state.
I shoved aside the large boxes stacked on top of the trunk and cleared a small area on the floor. Kneeling in the cleared space, I ran my hands lightly over the dusty lid, admiring the craftsmanship of this forgotten gem.
The trunk was made of fine dark brown leather with durable stitching. While I didn't know much about antiques, it had obviously been very expensive in its day, and probably been custom made for the owner. I couldn't help wondering how such a beautiful old trunk has ended up in the bowels of the attic, neglected.
Wanting in to investigate the mystery further, I slide my hand down over the latch mounted on the center of the lid. I was just about to lift the top to peek inside, when I noticed a raised area of lettering, obscured by years of grim. I brushed the area clean, revealing a finely embroidered monograph.
"E...A...M", I read aloud to myself, pondering its significance in my own memories. I came up short.
Who is E.A.M? How are they connected Gran? And how the heck did this dusty thing end up here?
Curiosity had gotten the best of me, and I absolutely had to see what was in the trunk. I slowly lifted the lid, surprised that it had not been locked. Dusty air swirled around me, and I sneezed again and shook my head to clear my nasal passage.
I looked down into the trunk and found myself transported to nearly one hundred years in the past.
The inside was lined with a heavy satin in a worn pale blue and a faded mirror was mounted inside the lid. Several high necked dresses in varied fabrics and rich colors were neatly folded at the bottom. I loved watching period films and often paid special attention to the styles of the time. I guessed that these were probably from the near the turn of the century, but too simplified to be of the Victorian era.
A stack of bound letters lay on top of the dresses and other folded clothing, but was half tucked under a burgundy velvet hat with feathers arranged along the small brim. Moving the hat aside for a better look, I also found a small silver brush and mirror set nestled in a velvet cloth. Next to the mirror was a small jewelry box. I picked up the brush and flipped it over gently in my hand to admire the raised flowers and leaves imprinted on the return side. The mirror also had the same detailing around its frame and on the back. I then picked up the jewelry box, and slide the top open. Inside the box, nested in velvet was one of the most beautiful rings I had ever seen, and a large crystal pendent.
Wow, this is amazing. Too beautiful to just be forgotten like this. Such a shame!
Wanting to find more information about the owner, I closed the box and placed the items on the floor beside me. I reached for the stack of letters and set them in my lap. I then untied the delicate red ribbon that had been used to bind them together. As I lifted the first letter and opened it, a faded black and white photograph fluttered from the inside and onto the floor.
Surprised, I picked up the photograph and examined it more closely. It appeared to be a snapshot of a family, as three faces stared back at me from the past. They posed in from of a large brownstone house. Snow covered the sidewalk where they stood, and they were dressed warmly in heavy winter apparel. The tall man, probably the father, was dress in a three-piece suit covered by a long overcoat. A fedora hat sat atop his dark wavy hair, as he posed proudly with a reserved smile.
Definitely, one of those proud rich guys,I thought to myself, knowing that some of Gran's family had been rather prominent in the Chicago area when she was growing up. Maybe a lawyer or a banker.
The woman was elegant looking, but smiled happily in such a way that highlighted her apparent beauty. She looked happier and more friendly than her husband. She wore a long skirt that came to the top of her heeled boots, and a high lace neckline that peeked from behind the lapel of her overcoat. The coat looked to be wool, and was cinched high on her waist, covering most of her outfit. Her light hair was swept into an elegant up-do adorned with the velvet hat that I recognized from the trunk. A fur stole was tied around her slender shoulders, and one of her hands was tucked into a matching muff at her waist. Her other hand rested on the shoulder of a teenage boy who stood in front of her. The boy looked to be about fifteen or sixteen. Like his mother, his hair was lighter than his father's and he smiled back at me with a lopsided grin, which made him seem more attractive. Like his father, he wore a dark charcoal suit covered by a heavy overcoat, and a wool cap on his head.
Who are they? I don't recognize any of them from pictures that are mounted in the main stairway or the living room. The women and the boy look so happy. Pretty good looking, too.
I turned over the picture, and read the inscription on the back.
"Edward and Elizabeth Masen, with their son, Edward Anthony Masen. Christmas 1916. Chicago, Illinois."