This is a work of speculative fanfiction. No profit was made nor was intended to be made. All rights to Twilight and it's sequels and prequels belong to Stephanie Meyer and Little Brown Publishing company. I make no claim to ownership on any of those rights nor to any intellectual property of Stephanie Meyer.

AN: I have taken liberties with the whole Midnight Sun/Noontime Darkness phenomenon in Scandinavia, I realize it doesn't work exactly the way I have it in the story, but that's why it's fiction.

Chapter One:

16 Years Later

Ingrid was carefully placing camera equipment into her bag while tucking her cellphone between her chin and her shoulder.

"Yes Magnus, I understand that you would rather have me back in Norway, but it's not happening. I'm twenty two years old and do not need my hulking werewolf of a brother to take care of me. Besides, I'm the oldest, that makes me wiser and more mature."

There was a snort over the other end of the line. "And exactly how much wisdom did you manage to accumulate in the 15 minutes that you happen to be older than me by?"

" A small yet vital lifetime's worth. So bow down and acknowledge the wisdom of my choice to live as far away from them as I could possibly get. It was either this or feed Dagmar to the next vampire that wandered it's way through our territory. And we all know how well that would have gone over."

Magnus' voice sounded pained. "You know, with you gone, she's having to do a lot of it on her own now. Father let her slide on so may of the bolverk's duties that she doesn't really know what she's doing. As the beta I have to help her all the time. If you were here, you would be doing her job and I wouldn't have to talk to her constantly."

She sighed. "Magnus, the only way I'm coming back is if you need a kidney, she's FINALLY dropped dead, or you become the Jarl. Since none of those three things appear to be on the horizon right now. I wouldn't exactly be expecting me to come home for a visit."

Ingrid knew her twin missed her, until the day she had left Norway, left the pack, they had never really been apart for any real length of time. They used to like to say that they've never been alone, not even in the womb, but these days, being alone felt wonderful, like it was what she needed.

After a few more minutes of mock quarreling with her brother, she hung up the phone and loaded her equipment into her car. She had just moved to Forks Washington a month ago. It was a small town with a Native American reservation close by. Since she wasn't used to big cities, the size was perfect for her. The weather didn't much bother her. She had grown up in northern Norway; for months at a time the sun either never rose or it never set. If one could get used to insane conditions like that, near constant rain was pretty much nothing. The final clincher had been her apartment. It had a fireplace... in the kitchen. That was all she needed to sign her name on the lease and have her things sent here. She had grown up with a kitchen hearth and did not feel at home in houses that didn't have them.

As she loaded the last of her equipment into her trunk, she took a deep breath of air. It smelled like rain. Not that that was very surprising, it always smelled like rain. Only time would tell if it would clear up or if it would pour instead. She got behind the wheel and began the drive to La Push. Ingrid had an interview for her first job here in the States. She had sent her portfolio out to various places and had received a call from the Quilluete elder's council in La Push. They were attempting to draw more tourists onto their reservation. More tourists meant more businesses to cater to them, more businesses meant jobs for a community that desperately needed them. However, they needed to lure those tourists to the rez in the first place. So they wanted to hire a photographer to take a bunch of nature shots for a new hiking and camping brochure they were looking to make. Ingrid was eager to get the job.

When she drove through the rez, she saw why people would want to come here. It was beautiful, great views, gorgeous scenery. She was sure that with the proper marketing, they could get people here with no problems. However the poverty was also readily apparent. Houses had crumbling paint and wet rot in the wood. Many homes had a car in the driveway that was obviously broken and there was a certain listlessness to the people she saw as she looked out her window. It made her uncomfortable, like she should either solve the problem or that she shouldn't even be here in the first place. She couldn't quite decide.

When she pulled up in front of the lodge, she looked at the building and the carvings of birds, whales and wolves on it. It was the distinctive style of the tribes of the Pacific Northwest and it was utterly striking. Ingrid walked up the stairs and immediately saw Billy Black. He had said that he was in a wheelchair, so she assumed that this man was he.

"Mr. Black?" she asked.

The man smiled at her. "I am. You must be Ingrid Jarlsdottir, follow me, I have some paperwork for you to sign before you can start work on the brochure."

Ingrid blinked. "I thought you were still going over candidates for the job?"

"Initially we were, but your work was the best. You seem to really try to get an understanding of your subjects. Often with photos there's a certain coldness, a distance. I don't know how you do it, but whatever it is, it works."

Ingrid bowed her head, pleased that he thought so highly of her work. "Thank you and I would love the job. Your land is beautiful and it will be an honor to photograph it."

Billy seemed pleased with her answer and led her into a small office and handed her the packet of paperwork. After she had signed on all the dotted lines and made a copy of her green card and filed all the relevant work visa information, she was handed a map.

"There are a few areas that we definitely want photographed and they're marked on the map. For the rest, we'll leave it to your discretion." Billy wheeled himself out the door in front of Ingrid.

As she took the map and went to go back to her car, she turned and asked "The carvings on the longhouse are wonderful. May I photograph them?"

Billy looked at her, not many non Quilluete noticed the carvings, they always wanted stereotypical totem poles. It was like their preconceived notions blinded them to the smaller carvings that his tribe produced. "Of course, not many people notice them."

Ingrid laughed "Then they're blind."

She pulled her camera from her backseat and began to take shots of the longhouse. She even got a very dignified shot of Billy in his wheelchair looking at a carving of a whale, telling Ingrid about the animal's significance to his people. She wasn't sure if these would end up in the brochure but she knew that they would end up in her personal collection. Ingrid documented everything, everything that caught her eye. She knew that she would die long before the rest of her family, long before the rest of her friends and she wanted to capture life as she saw it, to leave something behind that would last longer than she. Photos were Ingrid's small grab at immortality.

Three days later she was hiking through La Push, the previous day she had taken some shots of the places that the council had deemed too important to the brochure to miss. Now she was taking shots of whatever caught her eye. Whatever told her that it would make people see how captivating this place was. She was also about ten to fifteen seconds away from pulverizing her camera stand into tiny little metal chunks.

"So help me, if you do not stay where I put you I will...will... FEED YOU TO FENRIS HIMSELF!" So maybe she was panting a little bit and maybe she was yelling at an inanimate object like it was capable of understanding her. Who cared? Then it fell over again and it was probably a good thing that no one was there to see her screech like a demented chicken and start jumping up and down on the stand till it was bent in the middle. It was not her finest moment.

Finally she stood away from the camera stand and took deep breaths, slamming her temper back into it's box. Ingrid never claimed to be perfect and quiet frankly she had no desire to be. Perfection was boring. However, her behavior had been a bit childish and that was a bit embarrassing. Picking up the twisted metal, she slung it over her shoulder and went to walk out of the woods. Looking around she realized that Fenris was quite literally having fun with her. She was lost and she never got lost. The Chained Wolf was truly having a good time at her expense today. With a sigh she picked a direction and began to walk in a straight line. She was bound to wash up somewhere that would lead her back to someplace she knew.

An hour and a half later she heard voices, they sounded like male voices. Ingrid followed them and practically walked right into someone's backyard. When she looked for the source of the voices she saw a group of well developed young men gathered in a group and looking at her. She thought she had been quieter, but perhaps not. They were shirtless and every last one of them had a body that looked like it had been sculpted from warm brown rock. There were two women with them as well, one with scars running the length of her face and one who was almost as tall as the rest of the men and had a hard look about her. As Ingrid approached them, she noticed that they were giving off a significant amount of heat. That brought her up short and she looked at them with a frown on her face. Part of her was wishing that she had stayed in the woods.

One of the men, the one who had been standing next to the woman with the scars called out to her "Can we help you?"

Ingrid nodded and when she spoke her accent was more pronounced than it usually was. "I'm sorry to intrude on you. I was hired by the council to take pictures of the reservation for a brochure. Unfortunately I got somewhat lost and need directions on how to get back to my car."

The man asked her where she had parked and she told him by the rez's clinic. He began to give her directions. Then he looked at all the equipment she was carrying and yelled into the house. "Hey Seth! Can you come out here. I need you to help someone carry some stuff to their car over at the clinic."

Another of the well endowed men came out of the house, however this one seemed to carry himself as though he were younger. He acted deferential to the man who had been talking to Ingrid. As she watched, the gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach began to grow. She had seen these behaviors before, she had grown up around them. She had moved across the damn globe to get away from them. But it wasn't possible! She took a deep breath, she was being paranoid.

The man turned to Ingrid. "I'm sorry, my name is Sam and this is Seth. I didn't ask your name."

"I am Ingrid Jarlsdottir." She nodded at Sam and then looked at Seth. And felt her world crack open and not in a good way.

He was looking at her like she was his world, his life, his goddamned everything. The rest of the group were looking at her now as well. Now there was no denying it, she knew what they were. They were wolves, and one of them was looking at her. She wanted to cry.

"No! No...no! You did not just imprint on me!" Ingrid was backing up slowly with each word, holding the broken camera stand in front of her like it was a weapon, like it had the ability to actually do something to help her.

As the rest of the pack stared open mouthed and shocked at her, Ingrid felt like everything was closing in on her. This couldn't be happening to her, but it was and she had no idea what to do.