Chapter 15 – Children of the Revolution
The revelation of Aro's master plan set everyone in motion, scrambling to deal with all the little details that would need to be put in place.
First and foremost, it was agreed upon that Alice and Esme should be as far away from any potential danger as possible. They didn't have any fighting skills and were not aggressive creatures. With the added knowledge that Aro lusted after Alice's talent, everyone agreed that it would be safer for them to stay with Eleazar's wife, Carmen, in Alaska until after, well… after. Carlisle would drive them north to the Canadian border, where Carmen would pick them up and make the day and a half drive back to her compound. Eleazar and Tanya were planning on driving down with Carmen, then they would come back with Carlisle, and they'd already been in touch with the rest of the council. Garrett had not wandered far, and he committed to return in a few hours. Siobhan, having just arrived home in Northern Ireland, would stay there and wait, for it would take her at least two days to get back to Forks.
"I don't like being gone for this long," Carlisle said as he placed a bag in the trunk of his car.
"Aro wants more than Bella, and I will not let him near Alice." Jasper stood with one arm wrapped tightly around Alice, his chin resting on her head. "We're better suited for combat, and having Eleazar here will help diffuse Aro."
Carlisle had been quite disconcerted to learn that Aro wanted both him and Eleazar back in Volterra. I'd been aware of Carlisle's time there, but Eleazar had been a member of the guard, a trusted member who had been instrumental in the recruitment of new members. The more we talked, the deeper and more malevolent Aro's intentions appeared to be. Not only did he believe that he would return home with the Queen, he intended to bring back other valuable 'tools' to further his domination. He would truly be unstoppable.
That was enough to defer any argument on Carlisle's part.
"Depending on the ferry schedule, I should be back by early morning. Please call me if anything happens." He patted his shirt pocket absently, checking to make sure he had his phone. "I will do the same."
"We will," Rosalie promised. She and Emmett stood at the top of the steps, their arms draped around each other. Edward hovered on the periphery, strangely quiet as they finished loading the car. There was a flurry of goodbyes, hugs and kisses and promises to be safe. Esme held on to me for a long time, her long hair tickling my nose as I buried it against her shoulder.
"You are brave, remember that," she whispered to me. "Be what you want to be."
I lost myself in her embrace, letting Esme's confidence brace me like words never could. In her eyes, I was invincible. I knew it wasn't true, but she made me want to believe. "I will. Thank you," I promised.
She kissed my check and released me, taking with her the warmth and security that only a mother could lend. Without her arms around me, I felt like that scared little girl again. But she placed her hand over her heart, and gave me a Mona Lisa smile.
Everything you need is always here, she mouthed before climbing in the car.
We watched, subdued as doors closed and the engine started, none of us willing to say anything more definitive than 'see you soon,' because goodbye felt too final. We would see them again. All of them.
None of us moved until the car was well out of sight.
"Kitchen, now," Jasper said, spinning and striding towards the house. He was stoic, revealing nothing of the turmoil he had to be feeling watching Alice leave. Jasper could have taken her and run – he didn't have to stay here and fight, but he did. This was more than self-determination to him; it was about family. It was for all of them. "We don't have much time."
Emmett released his wife to tug open the large wooden door, holding it as we filed into the house. The yin to Jasper's self contained yang, he waited until I was inside to smack my butt, bumping me forward and off balance. I yelped and dropped my hand back behind me to cover my butt, waiting for another assault. Edward beat me to the literal punch, growling and pushing Emmett backward into the open door. It crashed into the wall with a loud crack, knocking pictures askew all the way down the hallway.
The rebuke didn't rattle Emmett, who simply laughed off Edward's attack. "This is going to be more fun than I expected," he teased. "And it's only just the beginning."
"You're making me look forward to throwing you again," Edward warned, but Emmett didn't stop, waggling his fingers at me in mock threat. It earned him a smack on his wrist from Rosalie, who muttered something under her breath about large children and how they should know better.
The playful banter ended as we reconvened – Rosalie and Emmett claiming the seats abandoned by Carlisle and Esme while Jasper sat next to me on the other side of table. Edward returned to his position at the head.
"What's our game plan?" Edward asked, but Jasper was already ahead of the game.
"We aren't going to be able to take the Volturi down, you know that. It doesn't matter what the guard believes is right or wrong; there are some who will still fight."
"We have to keep them away from the humans," Rosalie murmured. "No repeats of 1951. We can't let them get hurt again. I don't think this town could bounce back like it did last time."
"Charlie knows what's going on," Emmett said. He "He's going to come up with a reason to get as many people out of town as possible. I'm half tempted to start a fire just to roust the natives."
"Be kind to the trees," Rosalie reminded her husband. "You've already hurt enough of them."
"You want me to save the trees or save the people? I don't know if we can do both."
"Funny you should mention trees," Edward said, effectively ending their back and forth. "Bella gave me a different perspective on that during our hunt. We can't beat them, nor do I think we should. The Volturi have been in power too long - pulling them down would only cause more chaos, like cutting off the head of the hydra."
"One always grows back," Jasper threw in, nodding his head in approval. "You can't kill it; you have to figure out a way to control it."
"Exactly." Edward leaned forward, his hands pressed flat against the table top, bracing himself.
"The way to deal with this is to use the information we have for leverage. We might not be able to overthrow them, but I don't think we need to. If we can control or heavily influence them, we can accomplish the same thing."
Emmett stood and walked over to the window, his hands laced behind his head as he stared out at the forest. With his arms bent, elbows pointing out he reminded me of the old myth about Atlas supporting the world. Pulling it down would only cause harm, but if we could alter it just a bit, how would things change?
"Libertine can mean two things," Edward said, staring intently at Emmett's back. "Aro is one extreme, morally corrupt and willing to do whatever it takes to get what he wants. But we discounted the other definition," he hesitated, taking a deep breath. "A libertine can also be a freethinker, an idealist, a -"
"Carlisle," Rosalie said softly. "Carlisle is a libertine."
"And others on the council," Jasper interjected. "They're all so idealistic about granting everyone their freedom but they haven't thought about the cost. If the Volturi fall, there's no way to control the countless vampires around the world. We would be unleashing a thousand kids in a candy store unsupervised. I've seen this type of idealism before – it never ends well. There is a way to allow for more interaction with the world while keeping the laws that work."
"You're talking about a hybrid?" Rosalie was leaning forward on the table, her arms bent to support her weight.
"No, more like an evolution. If we can supplement their rule and make it more democratic, we can accomplish what the council wants, protecting ourselves and creating the desired changes from within."
Emmett let out a long breath. "You mean no pitch fork brigades with flaming torches? When they talked about coming out, that's all I could think of. Staying in the shadows isn't always a bad thing."
"I agree," Edward said, staring directly at me. "Absolutes one way or another are never a good thing."
He was right. By bringing down the Volturi, we could actually make everything exponentially worse. The council started this ball rolling with their idealism and desire to make things better, but without thinking through the consequences.
"So what do we do?" Emmett asked. "You don't think we can take them down. I never thought we should, especially not if it means vampires running around unchecked. But the train has left the station - how are we going to keep this from spinning out of control?"
"That's where Bella comes in, at least according to Alice," Edward said. "This is bigger than we ever realized. Vampires all over the world know about the prophecy. Why else would Aro be killing off the supporters?"
"She's a figurehead," Rosalie observed, one long finger tapping against her lips. "People are waiting for her, hoping for change, right?"
"Aro sees Bella as a way to lure everyone in. She's the theoretical Holy Grail, giving him ultimate power. Once he has her in the fold, people will stop dissenting. They'll follow her because of what they perceive she is. Aro would be able to rule the world."
They continued to debate strategy and probe at Aro's likely responses to the wild goose chase he'd been sent on. I tried to follow the conversation, but I couldn't get past the fact that people had died for believing in me. A month ago I was no one, a random college student barely making ends meet. I'd been oblivious to the fact that there were people out there waiting and hoping for me, or at least the concept of me, believing that when I arrived I could make everything better.
They believed in me more than I believed in myself.
"Can we just stop for a minute?" I gasped, shooting up out of my chair. It grated across the wood floor in protest, teetering precariously and then slamming to the floor with a loud bang. I didn't stop to right it, running out of the kitchen and down the long hallway. At the far end of the house there was a lone door open, the room shaded and dark.
Slipping inside the room, I pushed the door closed and leaned against it with my eyes shut. After a moment of silence, the conversation resumed at the other end of the house, hushed voices talking about points of weakness and how best to set the scene for the inevitable showdown. I forced myself to block them out, focusing on my surroundings in the hopes that there would be something here to help me escape the inevitable for just a little bit longer. The room was small, not quite the size of a bedroom, and appointed as an office or study. A large distressed brown leather sofa dominated one wall, a series of oddly matched oil paintings and wood panels hanging just above. The remaining three walls were covered in bookshelves. This was the room of a thinker, not a frivolous reader, someone who craved knowledge.
Two full walls of shelves had been dedicated to medicine, with journals, books and folios spanning what appeared to be hundreds of years. The remaining wall, which had been built around two large picture windows, was divided in half. On the far side, books by John Locke, Emmanuel Kant and Thomas Hobbes were mixed in with more familiar names like Jefferson, Franklin, and Thomas Paine. The other section was filled entirely with books about England: histories, biographies of kings and queens, as well as more than a few books on the formation of the Church of England. Oddly enough, it reminded me of my mother, and of watching Princess Diana's funeral on television, the thousands of people watching her sons mourn her publically, all sharing the boys' grief as a way to validate their own loss.
What was it like, I wondered, being born into a life where you knew what your purpose was from day one? To be raised, every day bringing you one step closer to whatever that destiny was? If I'd been brought up, preparing, training, or even accepting that this would be my lot in life, would I have rebelled, or would I have accepted it, like my father had? Or, was my ignorance necessary as Edward claimed? There was no easy answer, but I did know that, like those boys leading their mother's funeral procession, I was just as much a figurehead, and there was nothing I could do to change that.
I eased a book about Queen Elizabeth I down off the shelf and carried it over to the desk and sat down. There was a phone on the corner, an elaborate console with buttons and names programmed in: Esme cell, Edward cell, Jasper cell, Forks Hospital, Rosalie Office. The name Charlie Swan jumped out at me, and before I could stop myself, I had the phone pressed to my ear as the flat, dull ring tone echoed through the line.
"Forks Police," a woman's voice answered.
"Chief Swan, please."
"He's out right now, can I take a message?"
"It's urgent that I get in touch with him," I said. "Can you transfer me to his cell?"
The woman sighed, and I could hear papers rustling on the other end of the phone. "We don't-"
"It's his daughter. It's important."
The noise on the other end of the line stopped, and I could hear the woman's breathing increase.
"One moment," she answered brusquely.
There were a series of clicks, followed by the low hum of the phone line, then another click.
"Chief Swan." His voice hummed through the phone, full of confidence and authority.
"Dad?"
"Bells? Where are you? Are you okay?"
I'd thought that hearing my father's voice would be a relief, a safe haven in the middle of this chaotic storm. Instead it made the distance between then and now that much more profound. I couldn't ask him to come get me and take me home. There was no home anymore, at least not in the traditional sense that I'd defined it. Maybe that was the point to this whole epiphany – maybe it was time to bury the old part of me, and allow the new to shine through. Holding on to the past wasn't going to allow me to go anywhere.
"How did you do it? When your dad took you to the Cullens, how did you accept what they told you? Didn't you want your own life?" The words tumbled over each other, each one a desperate plea for reassurance. "I don't know how to do this. They want me to be something that I don't know how to be."
"Hang on a second," Charlie said. I could hear his blinker, and then the jangle of keys as he turned the car off. "Yeah, I did want my own life. But I wanted you more."
"But you missed out on so much." My throat ached, a different fire from thirst. This felt like I was drowning, my lungs searing with a pain I could only internalize, not release. "If you had to do it all over again, would you do the same thing?"
Charlie sighed, and in my imagination I could see him, rumpled and tired with dark circles under his eyes. Who took care of him? Who loved him?
"I just found you," I choked out, the fire inside me raging out of control. "It feels like no matter what I do, I lose everything, including you. I don't want that."
"You won't lose me, Bella," he promised. "I'm like a rash you can't get rid of."
I leaned forward on the desk, one arm stretched out to create a makeshift pillow, my cheek pressed against soft cashmere of my sweater. My free hand cradled the phone against my ear, a life line to the world. Charlie was trying so hard to make me laugh, but there was no joy to be found.
"I'm scared," I admitted. For all the conflict I'd experienced, the fluctuations of strength and confidence and trepidation, this was the first time I'd admitted it to anyone out loud. It made me feel so incredibly small and fragile. "What if I fail?"
"You make it sound like you're alone in this," Charlie said. "Yeah, you are the center of it all, but there are a lot of people lined up around you. You are a lot of things, kiddo, but you are not alone."
"People have died because of me, Dad." My voice cracked, and I wished desperately that I could cry. "People were destroyed because they wanted me to come. Everyone has this great expectation that I am going to solve everything. What if I can't?"
Charlie sighed, and force of his breath whistled through the receiver. "I wish I knew what to tell you that would make it all better, Bells. But I don't know that answer. I wish to God I did."
We were both quiet for a minute.
"I heard that Edward has an idea on how to handle this," Charlie said, easing back into conversation.
"Yeah, he found out some stuff out that may give us the upper hand."
"He's good at that." Charlie laughed, which surprised me. "The first time I met him, Edward called me out for saying he had bed head. I thought it, and he immediately corrected me that he absolutely did not have bed head. He was all indignant about it, which I guess was pretty funny at the time."
It took me a minute to realize that Charlie was talking about his version of the great revelation. "I could see Edward doing that," I admitted, fighting back a smile. "He's a good man, Dad."
"I know he is. All of the Cullens are, and they legitimately care about you. Not what they think you'll be, but what you are. I wouldn't have let them near you if I didn't believe that."
"I don't know if you could have stopped them."
"Are you kidding?" he said, his voice lighter now. "I'm stubborn as hell. It would take more than a couple of vampires to stop me. So are you. You grabbed the bull by the horns a few days ago, Bella. You can do anything you want if you believe in it. You just have to believe."
"I guess I don't have to ask how you feel about Edward then, do I?" I tried to tease back, but the laughter didn't come.
"Well, aside from the fact that I don't like anyone biting my daughter, I think he'll be good for you. Just don't go too fast, okay? I don't care what all the prophecy stuff says.."
"Dad, I'm twenty-three," I said petulantly. The whole thing was ridiculous and just the levity I needed. Somehow, my dad always knew what I needed, even when I didn't.
"Doesn't matter," he said, laughing. "Little girl is little girl. I'm keeping you that way."
When our laughter died, we fell into an awkward silence. I could hear cars passing him by, the hum of the engine and the pinging of rocks as they hit his cruiser. He was out in the real world, trying to save lives. He was brave and strong. If Charlie Swan could do it, then I should too.
"I love you, Dad," I whispered. "You're better than anything I could have ever wished for."
"I love you too, Bells." Charlie's voice was gruff, and I wondered if he was trying not to cry. "And you are everything I could have hoped for and more."
It was the first time we'd said those words, and they burned into my brain, a permanent mark from Charlie Swan, one that I would never give up.
Ω Ω Ω
When the light began to fade, I turned on a light in the study. After hanging up with my dad, I'd opened up the book on Queen Elizabeth, flipping carelessly through the pages. She'd not been born a queen, and had been treated horribly throughout a good portion of her childhood, lied to and manipulated by people who claimed to have her best interests at heart. Instead of letting that break her, she channeled and learned from it, emerging as a strong, capable woman because of her experiences, and not in spite of them.
There was a light tap on the door before Edward slowly eased it open.
"You okay?" he asked tentatively.
"Relative statement, but yeah. I just needed some time to myself. Once an only child, always an only child."
Edward sat down on the couch, his long legs stretching out in front of him as he reclined back against the cushions.
"That was difficult to get used to at first," he admitted. "I was an only child, too. When I woke up with Carlisle hovering over me, I could hear him. Not just him, I heard the people in the house next door, even the man walking down the street. I went from being comfortable on my own to never being alone. In some ways, you and I are exact opposites, you know. I can't keep anyone out, and you can't let anyone in."
"What do you mean?"
"You're closed off," Edward said. He'd propped his elbow on the arm of the couch, supporting his cheek as he stared at me. "Neither Aro nor I can read you. Jasper can project things at you so you can feel them, but he can't access your emotions or influence you in anyway. Alec tried to immobilize you, but he can't. You are perfectly closed off, the one mind that no one can touch."
"Well if that doesn't win a girl over, nothing will," I answered drily.
"You're missing the point," Edward insisted. "You can't be influenced, at least by anything invasive like others talents. It levels the playing field, and forces people to revert back to the skills from their human life. That's something that you are in touch with which we aren't. It gives you the advantage."
"How do you figure that?"
"You force us to use parts of ourselves that we've abandoned." Edward didn't look away, and I was surprised by the honesty of his admission. "I've gotten so used to reading people that I'd lost the ability to observe and form my own opinion outside of what the person thinks. You helped me rediscover that. Jasper, too. You've done so much for us in such a short time, Bella, and you don't even realize it."
"Stop trying to butter me up," I said, trying to sound more irritated than I felt.
"I'm just telling you the truth. People learn a lot when they are faced with what feels like insurmountable odds. Sometimes they even have an epiphany, revealing things they didn't realize they were wrong about."
"What did you learn?"
Edward smiled and turned so that his chin could rest in his palm. "In the summer of 1945, Emmett read something about the vernal equinox. He was all fired up about the concept of perfect balance between night and day, and the ability to stand an egg on its end. While he acts like a large child, he's very structurally oriented, and geometry and physics fascinate him."
"Emmett acts like a kid? I hadn't noticed."
He laughed, and continued with this story. "Emmett bought two dozen eggs, and we spent a full afternoon trying to balance them on their end. The first few broke, but Emmett would not give up. He kept at it, lying on his stomach on the kitchen floor, gently balancing those damn eggs. I wanted to give up after the first dozen broke, but he refused. Finally, when Emmett was down to his last egg, he got the thing to stand on its end."
When Edward didn't continue, I frowned and sat up. "I don't get it."
"It was the first time since I was reborn that I had quiet. We'd been so focused on balancing the egg that I forgot everyone around me. I was in a room full of people, and I found a few minutes peace. It was the perfect balance for me between silence and a family. That's when I knew this was where I belonged."
Edward sat forward, bringing his elbows to rest on his knees. I watched as he wove his fingers together, thumbs tapping to a silent rhythm.
"I felt that again with you today. For all the frustration, all the fear that we both face, we balance each other because you force me to find the parts of me that I'd lost. I'm scared of what comes next, but I have you and my family with me. I can face anything with that. "
I closed my eyes, picturing nameless, faceless people who had died believing in me and what I could do. Running and hiding would not accomplish anything, nor would it vindicate their deaths.
"What did Emmett do when he found out you can balance an egg on its end any day? It's not just the vernal equinox," I asked, trying to find something to hold on to, some little piece of hope that I could carry with me like a talisman. "It's all just a myth."
He laughed and stood, smoothing invisible wrinkles out of his jeans. "It might be a myth, Bella, but it doesn't ruin the magic of the memory. We make of things what we want. You are a myth, but you can be a legend, you just have to choose it."
"Who are you?" I asked, amazed at how much Edward had changed from the angry man in the woods. He was calm and composed, but not passive. There was a fire underneath, an untapped passion that changed everything about him, revealing depths and facets that had been hidden from the light.
"We went over this already, Bella."
"No, I mean it, who are you? You're different every time I talk to you."
"If you ask my family, a pain. I brood too much. My expectations of myself and others are too high. A perfectionist."
"Is that who you are, Edward?" I watched as he tipped his head to the side, thinking about the question.
"Maybe some, but not all. I can laugh too, especially when I'm with you. I guess it's fortuitous your second life started on the vernal equinox. Two of the memories that bring me the greatest joy, bound together on one auspicious day. They both bring balance to me, just in very different ways."
"When this is all over, do you think Emmett will let me balance eggs with him?"
Edward opened his mouth to speak, but the ringing of the phone cut him off. He stepped forward, hitting the intercom button. "Hello?"
"Edward, it's me," Carlisle's disembodied voice echoed through the room. "I'm on my way back, but you need to get everyone together now."
"Why, what's going on?"
"The girl we sent in Bella's place has been found dead in Jacksonville, completely drained of blood. Aro called to relay the news himself."
"What did he say?" Edward demanded. He didn't look at me.
"He's tired of our games. He is demanding that we deliver Bella to him in the morning." The door to the study slowly eased open. Jasper and Rosalie stood in the doorway, Jasper's arms crossed over his chest as he took everything in. "He said that if we don't give Bella up, they are going to attack the town. We can say our goodbyes, give her up, and they will destroy us as quickly as possible."
I could hear fear and apprehension in Carlisle's voice. Rosalie was right; Carlisle was an idealist who simply wanted to find a better way. A war wasn't part of his motivation. He hadn't wanted this.
"The hell we will," Rosalie said. "Aro wants her, he can come through us to get her."
"When can you be back?" Jasper asked. He was cool and reserved, and I could almost feel the wheels turning as he made tactical decisions.
"Three hours. I have Eleazar and Tanya with me."
Jasper moved across the room, leaning forward to brace his hands on the desk. "Good. Tell Aro to be here at sunrise. He can claim his trophy and all the glory that goes with it."
I closed my eyes, pulling on the image of those faceless masses that had fought for this, for me. In my mind, they stood with their hands extended, eggs balanced perfectly on their end.
This was not about reality; it was about believing. It was time to for me to make a stand and be the queen the people demanded.