Fuil 'o mo chuislean Chapter 8, a twilight fanfic

Fuil 'o mo chuislean

Twilight characters and universe are not mine, but the original characters, storyline and wording are mine.

Once again, thank you for your phenomenal reviews :) I'm only sorry that I didn't have the time to respond to them all individually. As annoying as it probably is that I don't update often, they mean the world to me and I'm grateful for every single one and for each of you. The last chapter was a bit of a departure from the previous chapters but I'm glad that you enjoyed it; I think some Alistair chunks may have to be that big to catch things up to present day but that's not exactly a terrible thing as he is an awesome dude and I like getting into his mindset.

Chapter Eight

The past and the chase
You hunted me down
Like a wolf, a predator
I felt like a deer in love lights

David Guetta - She wolf

Bella POV

When I woke up this time it felt different. I was in relative safety and comfort and it felt odd. Good, but odd. I stretched my limbs and felt joints pop as I moved over to the window. The countryside was passing by slowly and I took a moment to enjoy its spectacular beauty before realising that, as slowly as we were moving, Alistair would have no trouble keeping up with us. I scanned left and right, but saw no sign of him or of anything wrong at all. It was only then that true relief settled into my insides and my body relaxed.

To say I didn't know what to do with myself now would be an understatement. I fired off a text to Alice, letting her and the others know that I made it safely onto the train and didn't appear to be being followed. Her reply was enough to calm my jitters just a little but it didn't do much to raise my low spirits.

I felt almost crushed by the sudden awareness of my own loneliness, more so now than I ever had felt while I was truly alone. It's the nature of the human heart, I think, to learn to live with whatever state in which it finds itself for any period of time. But when reminded what it's lost or gone without, it does a thorough job of punishing you for depriving it of what it wanted all along. The question wasn't would my family forgive me, but could they?

It was probably an ignorant question that I should know better than to ask. As a counterpoint to or result of their necessary secrecy in their interactions with the rest of the world, they were unremittingly honest with each other. Never cruelly, but always fully. It would be too obvious to think that Rose would be the one who would have the most trouble trusting me again. Esme, I thought, would have been hurt the most, and I didn't look forward to facing her at all. She would always love me, and always show it, but tough love was very much a part of her emotional vocabulary and I was past due for some, I knew.

I was sulking and I knew it. But I figured if I allowed myself a little self pity until I met up with the others South of the border, no-one would be any the wiser. Well, except Alice, but if she happened to see me kick my backpack across the small cabin in a fit of pique, she'd likely not tell anyone about it. So I did. It felt childish but also better and I could definitely use a little better. Time to explore the cabin before I started feeling an urge to poke my tongue out at someone.

There were two doors close together. I felt like Sarah in the Labyrinth; which one would lead to an oubliette? As it turned out, neither; one opened onto a tiny but beautiful bathroom and the other onto a set of well made bunk beds. The bathroom had no bath but the shower looked like a potential new best friend and the small toilet was a far cry from squatting in bushes. A quick sniff of myself made trying to choose which one to use first a moot point. Shower it was.

I stripped quickly and rootled around in the small drawer under the sink, finding miniature bottles of bodywash and shampoo for me and my hair, a luxury after years of public toilet handsoap. The prospect of enjoying both hot water and a complete lack of psychopaths at the same time felt positively decadent.

I adjusted the water until it was almost too hot to touch, then stepped under it, dumping my clothes at my feet. I dribbled some of the bodywash on them and trod up and down on them absently while I let the scalding water relax and clean parts of me I'd tended to forget about for weeks at a time in my years on the run. Crossing my arms in front of me and allowing a large pool of water to accumulate before dumping it in on my feet in a big sploosh was the most therapeutic part of the entire process. I hadn't done that since I was little but didn't feel at all silly for doing it now.

I didn't stay under the water for long as I assumed that it was a precious commodity aboard a moving vehicle, even one this large. But it was long enough to make me begin to feel a little more like myself. Or rather, more like there might be a Bella left under the hard shell I'd had to grow while I fended for myself. I wasn't sure I or anyone else was going to like her much, but just knowing she might still be there was a big enough epiphany for now.

I wrung out my sopping clothes and hung them on the open window, laughing as my panties went whistling off into the wind. I only hoped they didn't decide to greet any of the other passengers by affixing themselves to a window on their way past the next carriage. I'd had an idea of making my way to the dining car in fresh(ish) clothes until I opened my backpack. The meat pie I'd accidentally smooshed earlier while looking for the credit card had made a dramatic and fragrant statement along the leg of my only other pair of jeans, although thankfully my sweaters remained unmolested. The jeans were quickly washed and added to the others drying at the window.

So, my choices for now were stay here and hungry or introduce myself to the serving staff in the dining car as Bella No-pants and enquire demurely about the chicken chasseur. Decisions, decisions.

Or…there was a small bell to call for room service; perhaps they would have something in lost and found that I could at least cover myself with in order to eat in the dining car. I rang it waited quietly for a response. Swift footsteps preceded a firm knock on the cabin door. I opened it a crack to find the same young steward from earlier.

"Simon, I hope you can help me. I'm…uh…oh man, this is so embarrassing. I don't have any clothes and I need to go to the dining car. You wouldn't have anything hanging around in lost and found that I could…um…borrow, would you?" I could feel a lovely shade of red creeping up my face from bottom to top. He kindly pretended not to notice my discomfort and smiled reassuringly instead.

"We don't keep lost and found items on the train, Miss, but there is a small boutique. I'd be happy to bring you a selection of items for you to try on, or perhaps a female member of staff might make you more comfortable?"

"That's OK, I figure the fewer people who know the better." I felt slightly defeated but hopeful as well. All these small kindnesses were chipping away little by little at the walls between my feelings and the rest of the world.

"I'll be back in just a few minutes, Miss. What size do you require?"

"Oh. Wow. A four in US but I haven't been able to buy anything for years…I mean since I…I'm sorry…I just…I don't know." I swallowed noisily, really not wanting to feel as stupid and exposed as I currently did. "And that was a while ago. I haven't been able to…uh…eat well. So maybe a two right now?"

"Don't worry, the lady who runs the boutique will have no problems. I'll be back shortly." He drew the door closed and I heard his footsteps growing fainter.

While I waited for him to return, a quick rummage in an overheard cupboard resulted in the bounty of a soft blanket. I may have very little dignity left at the present moment, but I would be warm and undignified, damnit. I sat on the couch, combing my fingers through my wet hair. My hairbrush was one of the things that had liberated itself from my bag in my fight with Da or at the ticket counter. I let my mind wander back to the day I decided to run, my fingers still working mindlessly through the tangles having a calming effect.

I'd half expected this call, or at least one like it. The only thing is, I'd expected it to be Aro's voice that I heard, matching the elegant script of the note I held in one trembling hand and that had arrived, or appeared, in an envelope totally unmarked apart from my name. Instead, I heard Marcus' mellow tones.

"They left you, didn't they?" It was a rhetorical question that I didn't have the nerve to answer aloud anyway, so I said nothing. "You are already aware of the punishment for knowledge of our world, Bella, so I need not bore you with threats, idle or otherwise. And believe me, they would be otherwise."

"Am I…do I have time to say goodbye to my father? Not literally, I know, but to see him one last time?" They were coming to kill me, but I had the feeling that I would somehow still miss Charlie even after I was gone.

"I'm afraid not. Nor may you communicate with the Cullens in any way. The guards will be there in mere minutes to collect you. You should use those minutes to pack anything you wish to bring with you." His voice wasn't unkind, but it brooked no argument. I was confused, though.

"Collect me? Aren't they going to kill me here?" The small chuckle he gave should have made me feel more at ease. It had the opposite effect. My stomach relocated somewhere around ground level.

"You are too powerful a gift to kill, Bella. For that I am sorry, for I know something of how it feels to be held in this place when you wish nothing but to leave it. No, you will be brought here and added to the guard. Aro's express command is not something one disagrees with, at least not openly. Or successfully."

I bit back a sob at his words and replaced the phone with shaking hands. All I could do was be ready when they arrived so that they stayed the shortest length of time possible, thereby posing the least amount of danger to Charlie. I doubted he would show up unexpectedly in the next five minutes but eternity was a long time to be unable to forgive myself, so best to be safe.

My large travel bag was packed ready for my birthday trip with the Cullens and I emptied half of its contents into my backpack. I had no idea what kind of things I may or may not need in Italy or how long it would be before I was turned. I didn't even know if Marcus had been telling me the truth. Perhaps telling me that I was to receive what I had wanted last time they saw me was just their way of getting me to go with them without a fuss. With a steadily sinking and shrinking heart, I put Wuthering Heights back on my bookshelf. Whatever unlife I was to have now, I didn't want the reminder of happier times and beloved family, or the chance I was losing. For me, forever more, Cathy would be without Heathcliff.

I heard a knock on the door and the next few moments swam past me in slow motion. The expected Volturi guards turned out to be Jake and Embry's smiling, and Paul's not so smiling, faces. Their wide grins turned to obvious anger as the Volturi guards glided out of the trees on silent feet.

Five vampires against three wolves. It was a more impressive fight than it should have been, but the scales were too obviously tipped in the vampires' favour and the wolves were losing. Halfway through the tornado of flying limbs and ripping teeth, Jake's desperate bark sent Embry for reinforcements while his eyes sought mine in a plea. I don't know how I managed to light the match but as my childhood friend's lifeless body was sent careening against the still form of his packmate, I lit the remains of Alec and Demitri.

I still don't know why Jane didn't kill me then and there, despite her orders. Maybe because her heart was as absent as mine after the death of her brother as mine was once I saw that Jake would not be getting up again. Maybe she never had one to begin with, but I don't think she would have been able to cause pain if she hadn't. Perhaps it was only her orders stopping her from ripping me apart, letting me live to be collected at a later date. She fled into the trees, leaving Felix and a guard I didn't know to turn and face the rest of the pack as they poured out of the forest.

I ran then, in fright and shame, begging my truck for reserves it didn't have and finding them anyway. I'd never see my best friend imprint or become the father I knew he could have been. I'd never fight with Paul again or blush as he pointed out my ridiculousness. I'd never even get to see them buried, and deep down I knew I deserved even less than that.

I left my truck on the side of the highway and stuck out my thumb, the first time of many. The vibration of the truck that was my first ride away from life and into fear felt much the same as the train I now found myself on. But at least this cabin was all mine and not strewn with nasty magazines and fast food wrappers.

Food. The thought brought me back to the present with a jerk, just in time to hear the steward knock on the door again. I wiped away tears and huffed at my memories. They could keep their feelings to themselves for now.

I opened the door just a sliver, enough to accept gratefully the small bundle of clothes pressed toward me.

"Put these on Miss, then I can bring in the rest." I nodded in thanks and closed the door again. Shuffling out of my blanket quickly I put on the thick pair of black leggings and red sweater, which reached a little way down my thighs. Feeling a lot more ready for company, I flung the door back open again and simply gawped. This must have been the desired effect because the steward laughed quietly and wheeled in the brass clothes rail about three feet long, the bar full of hangers, the footshelf piled with smaller items and several pairs of shoes. He parked it against the end of the couch and held out a large gift bag with silk rope handles and mysterious contents.

"The lady who runs the boutique asked me to give you these. She said they were a few things that a lady might need and that I wasn't to look. Take your time trying on the clothes, before or after you've eaten. Just ring the bell again when you've decided what you'd like to keep." I took the bag from him with a smile. It felt a little weird on my face but it was definitely the way forward.

He left quietly and I turned to the rail. I couldn't calm my thinking enough to investigate the contents of the bag yet, but a quick flip through the clothes hangers found me an outfit of black jeans and a long-sleeved cream t-shirt in a decadently silky feeling fabric that would make me feel a lot more comfortable about dining in public. Well, dining in public at a table. He'd had the presence of mind not to bring me anything overly girly, thankfully no high heels, but the cream ballet flats were a far cry from sneakers with holes that let the rain in.

I tousled my still damp hair and, remembering to pick up the small key, stepped into the hallway, heading for the dining car. An unobtrusive entrance had been the plan, but the number of heads that turned my way sunk that hope thoroughly. Instead I pulled on inner reserves of Rose and held my head up, the slightest smile curving my lips as I allowed myself to be lead to a table. If you can't be invisible, be blatant.

Alistair POV

Why are ye holding those? They're nae yer colour.

"They're hers. As to why…I dinnae ken. Maybe a flag of truce. Could she be giving up?"

Sniff them. Make sure they're hers.

"I'M NO SNIFFING THEM!"

Why not?

"It's indecent, ye blasted heathen. I ken very well they're hers; they flew out of her window and I can smell them well enough from here."

Ye could ask her why she threw them at you.

"I'm no shoving my way into her cabin to ask about the sudden appearance of her underthings."

Ye're behind as always; she's gone three cars down to eat. I know, I'll ask her!

"Ye will not! We're supposed to be inconspicuous, or do ye no remember why in Hell we're travelling on the roof of a train with the wind in our nethers? I cannae think of many things less inconspicuous than a seven foot troll mincing about a dining carriage asking why someone threw their knickers at him!"

All the same, I think I'd best check. Just for the sake of curiosity.

"Damn and blast ye, stop!"

My objections were far too late, probably before the conversation even started. The last thing I saw as every tendon and muscle in my body snapped rigid was my fist clenched around a scrap of light blue fabric. But that was quite an image to be going on with as my decidedly annoying and obstinate passenger took the reins and went looking for trouble. He'd find it; he always does.

Let me know what you think :) And thanks to the reader who helped me when I was stuck as to which POV to write from next. I took your advice and went with Bella's, and I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out.

~Sin~