Aurora

Disclaimer: First of all, not mine. Not in the least. The only things I own are a nice little townhome, a dog, and maybe a nice new blue truck names Bella. Twilight, not so much. Although, if it has the Cullen Crest on it, I like to at least think it's mine.

Summary: I guess you can call this Carlisle's Twilight but there isn't any romantic interest since this is way before Esme. This is Carlisle's time with the Volturi; who he met, what he did while he was there, and how he learned of the immortal children, werewolves, and other creatures that weren't so human…

Author's Note: I has a plan! Woohoo! I knew how I wanted to begin this story and how I wanted it to end, I just had trouble with the middle. Hope y'all like!

Chapter 9

I took my leave of Aro and Caius shortly after their revelation. I wished for my own familiar things and the quiet of my own chambers in which to study this day. Aro had been kind enough to permit me to take one of the books from his library with me at my asking. He had given me a few more, of which I currently carried, so that I might have others in which to distract myself.

Distraction was the way for our kind. We took no need of food or sleep. Those were things that did take up a human's time, not ours. So I chose to study, to read, to learn, and to listen so that I might help others. Medicine was my distraction, my own medication for this existence in which eternal sleep was not possible.

Placing the books on my small desk in my single chamber, I found my gaze trailing to the wooden cross that had once hung in my Father's church. I had gone back, only once, to the place where I had lived and did die as a human. The reason I felt any need to return was because of the smoke I could smell pouring out from London though I be a good ways away. I was still young at that point but more resolved. I had found my chosen diet and that being around humans was tolerable if I did hold my breath. I chuckled at the memory.

To the city did I hasten and found it to be inflamed. Quickly, I made my way to my father's church and found it encircled with fire though not yet in flames. I had yet to learn that fire couldst damage –and kill- my kind. I knew there was nothing that could be done about the building but I couldst do nothing either. I took a breath as I entered and did thank God that none stayed in this sanctuary that now was surrounded by hell. All I couldst smell were the charred wooden remains of the buildings surrounding it and the burnt flesh of some helpless soul. I quickly held my breath again and prayed that God had spared my father an ill fate.

Once in the church, many memories of my time at the pulpit and, moreover, my father at the pulpit did take me. I looked about frantically to see if any thing could be salvaged from this great fire. My eyes landed upon the cross that didst hang above the alter. I could recall when my father made the sacred object out of wood with little more than a dull edged knife. If anything should be saved it should be the cross.

For it were not just the memories of my father's determined expression nor the love he had in his eyes when he didst look at me while I watched him that made me wish to save the relic; it was the symbolism. For Christ our Lord took up the cross and for all our souls did he sacrifice himself that we may be freed from our sin. Though my cross that I do bare was much smaller in significance, I took it up gladly. I would suffer the pains of my throat's burn and not given in to the call for human blood so that I might save my own soul. The cross, the tangible reminder of our Lords burden to that I might remember mine was what I did need. Carefully, I made my way to remove wooden relic from my father's church – my church whilst I be still human – and carry it with me. Christ carried the cross for all of us, I carried this one for myself.

I tore my eyes from the cross and shook my head at the memory. I did hear that the fire was now called the "Great Fire of London" and that it been started in a bakery on Pudding Lane. My father's church was but three blocks from it. I knew the bakery in question though I could not longer recall it well. I seem to remember visiting it often though such memories are vague.

I glanced at the books before me on the desk and fingered them lightly. Try as I might, my mind could not get away from what Aro had spoken; Caterina is many things, but, above all, she is our assassin. Being of too much shock at the time, I did not inquire further.

Assassin.

There were many meanings to that word but the one that most would agree on was a hired killer. The notion that Caterina was a killer sent out on a whim to dispose of whomever sent chills down my very soul. Was such a thing even possible with what I didst know of her?

I had seen the guard of the Volturi and knew well that killing was of nothing to them. But taken is the knowledge that guards are meant to kill if the object they didst guard is under any perceived danger. Such a job was not murder. Preserving the life –or existence- of another was justice and honorable. Of this, I saw little problem.

I thought also on this Anna that Aro and Caius did speak of. She used others to create great events of monstrous offense. My father has told me the stories of this Countess Elizabeth. It was said she slapped a serving girl so hard that blood fell onto the Countess' skin. Convinced the skin where the blood did spill looked younger, she began to kill the girls in the surrounding village so that she might bathe in their blood. When the authorities did finally put such a practice to a stop, they found a girl pinned with an iron in her stomach to the floor, still alive. From her, they did discover more of the story. How the girl did still live enough to speak, I know not. Of this Anna, she was indeed a problem if she created such creatures.

To firstly think, I needed to believe as to whether Aro's words were true. Based upon my own observations, I could not say it was such. An assassin would not pray to God. Assassins dealt with death and killed for gain only; whether it be their own or someone else's. But what of that? Did not Aro call her his assassin? What gains could begotten by her? And what gains, other than good, could be gotten by capturing this Anna?

And so, I did sit down at my small desk to think through what I did know of Caterina from my own observations. She did pray which meant that she still believed God did hear her. None of the others thus far made much mention of God or of religion in general other than to say that we were damned. Although I thought that an assassin wouldst not have such piety, mayhap an executioner, one that delivered justice by the way of the axe or sword, might. I had seen such as this in my human life.

Could the word assassin be merely a matter of translation? Could she be more an executioner, one paid to deliver justice rather than revenge? This did mold better with what I had already reasoned of her nature. Caterina wouldst not kill for sport but she might for justice.

Suddenly, her pleas at the church came to my mind. Let me destroy them, please Carlisle she had begged of me. It were not the pleas of a vampire or of a sister to deliver some sort of justice to those that had done a monstrous wrong to a young serving maid. They be the pleas of an executioner, begging for the chance to let her job be done. Of this, it did make sense.

What should I do regarding Caterina if this be true? That she was, indeed, an executioner for the Volturi? I thought there may be of nothing to which I could do. For the mission she was sent on; to destroy Anna did seem a just one. I could not argue that one that had done so much evil, had killed so many innocent lives, and could, in no way, be forever contained, had any other way than to be destroyed. For she now had taken this Claudio and did tempt the immortal children out of the castle. Both small matters on the grand scale but enough to show evidence that she was not one to be trusted. A wild vampire, one that did attempt to cover herself, was one that could not be contained.

I thought on this and did see the justice in it. I had to hold to the belief that Caterina did not kill whom she was told for money but killed whom she was told due to their guilt. If she be more sinister than sister, than would she have been so kind as to give her dress to a corpse? To become angry over Laura's wounds? I thought it not possible.

Of this, I knew, Caterina was my sister. I sat at my desk with my new resolve. She may be the assassin for the Volturi but she was my sister more importantly. I did not see her deliver death without a course of action that would only be judged rightly. She was not the judge and jury for the Volturi did that. Caterina was the executioner. In her, I found a sibling, family. I would ask of what she did and pray that she did answer me. With this new thought, did I return to the books in front of me and renew my studies.

For the next three days, did a routine appear. I would study my books by day in the safety of either Aro's library or my own chamber. At night, I did make rounds with Dr. Gagliardo if it did so call for it. With smallpox now in Volterra, little time did I have at night for much reading.

Upon the third day did I realize that it had been a fortnight, again, since I had hunted. I took my leave of the castle walls and returned to the forests. It had been a month since the child, Lettice, had followed me to these grounds and I prayed that she did not do so again. I also did pray that Caterina made it back to the castle soon as I had not seen her as of late. I worried that some trouble may have come of her mission. Mayhaps, next time, I shall not permit her to go alone.

Making certain with a deep breath that no human was about in the deep woods, I began to focus on other scents about me. A deer was no more than a mile off and would easily sedate my hunger. I gave over to my nature and ran as if I had Mercury's sandals upon my feet. I felt alive during the hunt.

The deer did not hear me coming or did not make much movement to show that he did hear me. I attacked quickly and pulled his neck to my lips. My jaw clenched into his flesh and I began to feed. The blood ran hot down my throat and cooled the burning that lingered there. If I couldst find but another deer, or more desirable to me, a small den of foxes, then the fever within my throat couldst be forgotten for another fortnight.

I dropped the body of the now drained deer and took another deep breath to see what was nearby. What I smelt barely picked at my memory before one word did implant itself into my mind. The odd smell of raw silk, weak from here, but mixed with earth in such a way it did not seem natural. It was the smell of the child of the moon.

Immediately, I came to stand. My choices were limited. I could run, but to where? My hunt was not yet over and to go back to the castle would mean to leave again soon, and back to these woods. If this creature does so hunt in this forest, so near to his enemies lair, then should I take to another area and leave this be? I wished not to hurt the werewolf. We were both victims of our fortunes if I understood how one became a werewolf correctly. I had no quarrel with him, whoever he may be.

I ran, further into the woods, in hopes that he would not give chase. I did not wish for violence. After I did run for a goodly time, I stopped and took another curious breath. At first, nothing out of the ordinary was in the air. The earth, trees, and rocks all lingered in the aroma around me. I breathed easily again until I didst find a den of foxes. I smiled at my luck.

I blocked the foxes escape and took the two larger ones to finish my meal. The sweet taste of their blood made me feel warm again as it poured down my throat. As I looked on to their carcasses once I had finished my meal, I had wonder if I couldst not make a goodly hat or some other clothing from them. It did seem wrong to waste what was easily given.

I was not given time to think more for a different smell assailed my senses. The raw silk or almost dog hair smell began rapidly pungent. I twisted around within a moment's time to see a wolf snarling at me. My eyes told me that this was not the same one I had come across before and my nose only told me that he did smelt.

My nature did start to take over. Rather that run from what might be able to catch me and tear at my back, I began to lower myself so that I might defend better. I surprised myself at hearing an answering growl to that of the werewolves build within myself. He snapped at me when he didst hear of it.

It was then, I realized, this werewolf was not alone. I only heard the sounds of paws from behind me and did not turn fully to see. I moved myself so that neither were fully out of my sight and neither had full view of my back either. As I did not wish to fight them unless they did initiate it, I backed up as they, growling, moved towards me slowly.

The mangy looking mutt with brown fur who did I first spot take to spring and, by such means, attack me. However, he did not hit me. A blur of scarlet and white hit the mutt with full force and made him hit to the side of the other. The white and grey wolf looked startled and turned from me to the scarlet draped figure before him. I saw a marble white hand rise and crash upon his side. The werewolf cried in pain.

The vampire that had become my savoir, since I knew little of fight my own kind and littler still of the werewolf, turned to me. I saw her face and ran to her side. I could not let Caterina fight these creatures alone no matter my skill level in fighting. "Carlisle, run!" she said angrily.

Looking upon the creatures before us, the brown one appeared to be unconscious and the white and silver one had many breaks to his ribs. I began to bend down to see if I might help to set them when I felt a strong pull to my wrist keeping me upright. I looked to see Caterina's hand wrapped around my arm. Her face was curiously angry but also the slightest hint of amusement played in her eyes. "Damn it, Carlisle. Thee be a doctor, not a veterinarian!" she said in my native tongue before pulling me into a run away from the two werewolves.

Author's Note: i had to add that line. I just had to. Combining Star Trek with Carlisle's own famous line from Eclipse? It was just so needed. Don't worry, Carlisle and Caterina's relationship is purely plutonic. It's more like Alice and Edward's or Emmett and Bella's....very highly protective of their siblings and a lot of silliness between them but nothing more.

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