thirteen
july
"The Summer looks out from her brazen tower,
Through the flashing bars of July."
- Francis Thompson, A Corymbus for Autumn
o.o.o
June brings with it a humidity the seeps into every space it can manage and to Forks, where the greenhouse effect is year round, that type of sweltering, festering summer heat is enough to send Bella into a tailspin of lazy days and even lazier nights. She languishes in the arms of her mate, turning page after page as he scratches a pen over composition paper, each of them basking in this new sense of security.
The sun slants through the wall of tall windows in Edward's bedroom, bathing half the room in faint sunglow that ends just shy of the foot of the wrought iron bed. Another day, another sunset. Bella sighs contentedly, sinking into a haze of concentration as she follows the journey of Bilbo Baggins as he crosses Middle Earth in the company of boisterous dwarves -
Edward shifts her hair over to one shoulder, his cool breath ghosting over her skin as he lowers his head, mouth working with silken tenderness against the line of her neck. The Hobbit falls shut, a low thwap as pages press firmly together. She tilts her head, giving him more room to continue his slow, deliberate seduction.
He doesn't bother to mask the smug elation that suffuses him the moment a breathy moan is stolen from her throat.
o.o.o
o.o.o
As if the elimination of the threat hanging over their heads has given them permission, Edward and Bella have fallen into the passionate comfort trap of their shared desire - at least to a certain extent. There is a tacit agreement that their wedding night, whenever that may be, will see to the dismantling of the final barrier of their physical relationship. Bella could care less when they had sex so long as nobody outside of their relationship was interfering; however, Edward cares quite a bit, although he's a bit reluctant to admit it, some part of him worried that she will grow frustrated with the pace of their exploration. But he can't hide from her and she finds his reasoning to remain virginal to be endearing.
He doesn't want to dishonor the memory of his human parents or the Irish Catholic upbringing they gave him. Vampires were static creatures, after all, and not so prone to change that it was easy for him to wrap his head around performing premarital acts - even with his mate. Bella had point-blank told him that they would be shelving penetrative sex until her last name matched his and then proceeded to point out that there were many, many different ways to explore their sexuality, which of course he knew after seventy years reading the minds of sexually-charged teenagers.
Trust Edward to have completely overlooked the obvious in his quest to brood over a conflict that hadn't even happened. She'd thoroughly distracted him - to illustrate her point - and after that and to say her mate was interested would be an understatement.
o.o.o
o.o.o
"Edward…" she breathes, arching into his hands as they skim down the front of her body, lingering over her breasts, then her hips, and finally the upper area of her thighs that are exposed by the loose hem of her mint sundress. There his thumbs work in soft, wide circles as they grow ever-closer to the junction of her legs until - finally, after he has prolonged the inevitable and sucked kisses into the flesh behind her ear - his thumbs press into the tender inside of her thighs.
Her breath catches as he applies the barest amount of pressure, coaxing her knees apart as he carefully hooks his bare feet around her ankles - manipulating her body to his pleasure, filling them both with heady lust as she remains pliant to his whims. Edward's chest rumbles at the sight of her simple cotton panties, the low bikini style and white color sensational enough - for him - to positively spin his lust into overdrive. One of his hands sweeps upward, over her quivering stomach beneath her dress to meet the petty resistance of her bra, which snaps beneath the pressure of his strength, releasing her nipples to his lazy perusal. His other hand remains low, fingers edging beneath flimsy elastic with unhurried ease as her heart slams against her rib cage, a flush rising on her skin - from her cheeks all the way down to the tops of her breasts.
Sex flush, her mind supplies helpfully and she feels Edward smirk into the crook of her neck, even as his palm presses down on her pubic bone, long fingers fluttering over her quim, stroking so lightly over the damp evidence of her arousal. Her hips roll upward - and he shifts, spreading her legs further apart to render her immobile as her upper body is caught in the strength of his arm as he circles, rubs, pinches -
Edward slides two fingers inside - and they both make excited sounds, hers a gasping keen, his a triumphant snarl at finding her wet and tight and perfect and hishishis.
"God, but you're magnificent like this," he growls into her ear, pumping his fingers with steadily growing intensity. His teeth scrape against the hollow behind her ear and she twitches, arcing against him to the best of her ability as lust grabs her without reservation.
Please. She wants more - wants his mouth on hers, wants his fingers faster, wants attention to her aching clitoris, wants to touch him - but she's helpless to anything except for drunken sensation as his fingers curl and twist inside her body, deeper than she thought possible. She should be embarrassed by how wet she is, how she has come to the edge so quickly under his attentions, but she can do little else but mewl with an open mouth, stretching herself to give him more room, hips wide with splayed legs, neck tilted to present her eager flesh to his lips, his tongue, his teeth -
Edward responds to her thoughts, tuned directly into exactly what she needs - so she knows that the way he ignores her swollen clit is on purpose. He's hard against the small of her back, wrapped up in her entirely. The scent of her fills the room as his teeth again scrape against her skin, harder this time, more focused on the heat hiding in the veins of her neck. He finds a spot he likes, lush lips open wide to lave the salt from her skin -
And then - in a move that must have been planned for maximum impact - his razor-sharp teeth sink deeply into her neck at the exact moment that he presses the heel of his palm against her clitoris, fingers curling against spongy tissue -
Bella comes - hard - shuddering against him as he pulls a second smaller climax from her body even as he drinks her blood, direct from the source with the mild tingling of his venom mingling equally with pleasure, and he comes too, groaning and panting into her overheated skin -
Mine.
She doesn't know which of them think it - but it is true either way.
o.o.o
o.o.o
It was becoming increasingly apparent that Alice had never learned to appreciate the art of subtly at any point in her long, long life. She outright asks Bella about wedding plans once she spots the engagement ring, her trilling squeal forever embedded in Bella's memory right next to Alice's exaggerated moue of disappointment once she learns that Bella didn't have any plans, not even ideas from when she was a little girl. And while Bella is sure that Alice thinks the scores of wedding magazines appearing in Charlie's house is a subtle method of scooting the wedding arrangements into an actual planning stage, she is less than impressed to find Brides perched on top of the coffee canister.
Especially because that makes the grand total of back-issued and current magazines reach a whopping count of seventeen. Which is absurd. She has no idea when or how Alice is managing to magic these thick, glossy magazines into the Swan household, but she's just about had enough.
Bella huffs and, ignoring Charlie's bemused laughter, she speeds around the house, collecting the magazines into one large stack and then high-tailing it to the Cullen house, where she unceremoniously dumps the magazines on the dinning room table - right in front of Alice, who is waiting for her with an expression that borders on apologetic.
Mostly, though, Alice is unapologetic - too excited by Bella's response to her ungentle prodding, rightly guessing that Bella is prepared to just sit down and hash all the wedding nonsense out.
"This doesn't mean you win," Bella tells her baldly. "You switched Candide for one of these things and I'm not completely sure that can be forgiven. It's a classic, Alice. It's Voltaire."
"So is that issue," she retorts brightly. "It's Martha."
"Martha Stewart hardly constitutes a classic anything."
"Says you," Alice responds primly, already flipping through the magazines at vampire-speed to pages that appear to be her favorites.
Bella glances at the pages - but she quickly finds out that there really isn't any way to cherry-pick wedding planning. Even with the stipulation that she wants the ceremony and reception to be simple, the planning quickly evolves into a complex weave of decisions because, as Alice rightly points out, Bella and Edward really can't just have a small gathering of family to bear witness to their matrimonial vows. Not with as many vampires as Edward - and the Cullens - knew collectively, or with Bella's new political connections that demanded she be diplomatic in at least the invites. The relatively small guest list of fifteen swells to seventy-five in the space of a minute, quickly becoming too overwhelming to Bella, who hasn't ever had an interest in any of this stuff and didn't like the feeling of ignorance that washes over her each time Alice brings up yet another decision that the bride-to-be will need to make.
And that is when Bella calls in reinforcements. Not only to herd Alice in the direction of as simple as possible, but to help Bella make decisions - and there are so many, with flowers, linens, music, location, dates, time, and a small cake that she, Charlie, and the Quileute wolves would be able to eat. And that's just the beginning, the tip of the iceberg.
Esme and Rosalie take her considerations to heart with a certain air of wistfulness, joining forces with a laptop and smartphone to hunt down photographers and bakeries. Wedding planning - as one might imagine - is bittersweet for Rosalie, but she doesn't allow the bad memories she associates with planning her human wedding detract from the insightful advice she gives. And Esme's tasteful contributions are a buoy to Alice's whimsical inclinations, finding compromises where Bella had been unable to see any, such as the use of an archway rather than a gazebo.
"You've really never even fantasized about your wedding, dear?" Esme asks during a lull while Alice has disappeared to God knew where, jotting out the door like her tiny ass was on fire.
Bella leans into Esme's comforting, nurturing touch to the top of her shoulder, shaking her head. "I'd never even dared to hope that I could fall in love until Edward."
"That's so sweet." Rosalie smiles with open delight. "Are you sure you two shouldn't write your own vows?"
"No," Bella sighs. "While Edward is poetic enough to get away with it, I'm afraid I would just bumble it all up. Besides, I think he would like traditional vows…"
"I would," comes Edward's velvety voice from the entryway. He grins boyishly, leaning against the doorjamb as Alice darts past him. So that's where she'd gone - getting the boys early from their hunt.
"You didn't have to come back so soon," she says, although she is immensely relieved by his return. Maybe he can ward Alice off - or better yet, suggest eloping.
Edward shrugs, sauntering over to plant a searing kiss on her lips. I missed you. Then he pulls away, brushing their lips together once before he sits down in the chair next to her, elbow on the table. "Emmett found two grizzlies and Jasper was being unbearable about it, so the day was shot anyway," he mutters.
"I hate to make you pout, Eddie-boy," Emmett shouts from somewhere in the house.
Edward glares at the ceiling, but doesn't dignify a response. Instead, he says, "Tell me what I can help with, love."
And so Bella shoves the pile of undecided ideas at him, gleefully watching as his eyes widen incredulously - though he plays along gamely, placing the deciding vote for linens and the style of invites and the type of archway that Esme plans to commission for the occasion. Without prompting or teeth pulling, Edward volunteers to handle the music for both the ceremony and the reception.
Bella stands from the table, stretching until her back pops, but Alice stops her before she can get very far. "Wait, wait! What about the officiate? The wedding party? The dress?"
Bella balks. "I don't know Alice, you're the psychic. Why don't you tell me?"
"That's not how it works!" Alice exclaims.
Worth a shot. Bella sighs, frowning thoughtfully. "Alright…I do have someone in mind for the officiate, but I want to ask in person, so shelf that for now. As to the wedding party, I would appreciate you three would be my bridesmaids."
"Oh, Bella, I would be honored," Esme gushes, pulling Bella into a familiar embrace. If vampires could cry, Esme would certainly be bawling from joy at the moment. Alice agrees quickly, positively elated, and Rosalie is unable to hide the plain shock on her face, though she can't imagine why. But Bella wouldn't have it any other way; each of the female Cullens held a special place in her heart and she couldn't imagine excluding any of them from participating in her wedding day. If she thought Mele or Jane would even consider it, she would extend the same offer.
Bella casts a significant look to Edward. "I think we'll have to put a pin in discussing the dress, too."
Rosalie wrinkles her nose, hastily hiding her emotions beneath a chilly mask. "There goes that tradition."
Bella's brows arch. "Oh, I think I can keep it a surprise. I've been meaning to try something, anyway."
Alice's eyes glaze over for a second, and then she smiles wickedly, shooting Edward a superior look. "Finally, a way to hide something from the all-knowing telepath!"
Bella takes that as confirmation for her idea of selectively absorbing memories being possible and successful. Excellent. She files that away in her mind, idly contemplating when she could possibly talk Leah Clearwater into allowing a removal of Sam Uley's betrayal from her mind -
Save it for another day, she thinks to herself and tunes back into the lively scene her family presents.
"Ironic coming from you, Mary Alice," Edward is saying dryly.
"I would think not, Edward Anthony! I'll have you know that I can at least try not to see the future-"
"No kidding," Rosalie interjects. "At least Alice has the decency to look the other way-"
"It's not like I can help it!"
"So you've been saying for the last seventy years -"
"Maybe if your thoughts weren't so priggishly loud-"
Bella just about collapses on the floor in a fit of laughter.
This could be what her eternity looks like - it isn't a bad picture.
o.o.o
o.o.o
They have to talk about it some point - this guilt she is carrying around like a second skin, this parasitic thing that had attached itself to her the moment she realized the gravity of her actions on that wretched day. June 19th haunts her. It says so in her journal. Of course, she didn't think that they would be talking about it on the night they are packing for their trip overseas, but trust in Edward to pick the most dramatic time to discuss anything of import.
He has such a flair for drama, she will reflect fondly - later, once she has settled on the plane with his hand encased firmly in her own.
But that isn't now. Now is just moments after she has tucked her journal into her carry-on, moving to lounge on his massive bed as he zips around the room packing his own suitcase, alternating between muttering at Alice to stay out of my closet and plucking record or CD off his shelf to add to the ever-growing tower of music that he is considering for the wedding. If she's being honest, he might be a bit obsessive about picking the songs, but she's content to let him work through whatever system he has devised in his head. He's a musician and she has discovered that they are a bit odd - eccentric and mercurial, but that might also just be Edward.
In any case, she has no intentions of getting anywhere near his complex stereo system, as the thing is absurdly intimidating for what is essentially a giant speaker.
She tracks his progression through his bedroom with limpid eyes, chin balanced on her hand as he zips his suitcase and sets it next to hers. Bella already knows that he's going to be excessively gentlemanly in the morning and insist on carrying her bags for her and she is contemplating whether she should let him or not - when Edward shuffles through the vinyl records on his shelf, placing the large black disc onto the record-player. His lips turn up when Elivis begins crooning the opening verse of Love Me Tender.
"I like this song," she whispers, hushed so as to not disrupt the music.
Edward approaches her with a beguiling grin, ducking his head as he holds his hands out to assist her off the bed, pulling her against his chest. "Do you? Would you care to dance then, love?"
She nods, pressing her forehead against his collarbone as he makes the appropriate adjustments in their posture and arrangement, holding her with one arm around her waist and her other hand held aloft in his own. His mind is buzzing with a low-key pleasure, a certain threat of contentedness as he begins to spin them in slow steps around the room, humming along with the tune with his lips brushing over the shell of her ear.
He still holds her close when the music ends, twisting his wrist to play with her fingers, bringing her hand to rest over his heart. And aware as he is of the other ears in the house, his thoughts are remarkably quiet as he broaches the topic she has been struggling with for nearly two weeks. Somberly he asks, Are you ready to talk about it?
It takes some effort to thwart the urge to emphatically deny that she has anything to talk about in the first place - Bella turns her head to stare down at their feet, delaying the inevitable by studying the way cotton clings to the shape of her toes. She's been moping long enough. She knows this, just as surely as she knows her mate has watched her glumness with a doleful, erstwhile need to fix it for her. And Edward is the only one she can trust with this, just as it should be. When she gave him her heart, she also entrusted him with the responsibility of caring for her when she cannot or will not care for herself - it was a sacred duty that she performed for him, as well. Her emotional and mental health was decidedly more obdurate than her physical well-being, but Edward viewed them all as equally important. He'd been giving her time to reflect, to try and find peace, and now it was his turn.
And so she says, Yes and launches into an unrestrained tirade to express her monumentally conflicted feelings about Victoria and her gift that felt like a curse - how she struggled with being tormented by the murder in self-defense at the same time that she is sharply glad that the threat to her life and her mate and her future has been removed. How sometimes her stomach turns when she still feels the echoes of Victoria's energy swimming through her body and how she isn't sure that it's not psychosomatic because after a full three weeks, Bella has returned to a state of existence that requires blood and sleep and food. How she has a millisecond of fear any time she touches someone, especially him, wondering if this time will unleash the darkness in her - if she would lose control unwittingly. How she is terrified that she is a monster.
Bella lays herself bare, open and vulnerable and as fragile as a newborn bird, brittle bones and quivering limbs and salty tears cascading down her cheeks - the kind of sobbing that is soul-deep and gut-wrenching.
And Edward - unfailingly, unflinchingly - catches her.
You are my comet in the dark moonless night, he thinks, his mind encasing her in a soothing balm of acceptance. He understands what she's feeling - he'd been afraid that he was a monster too, dead and soulless. But monsters are not capable of love. She had shown that to him, waking him from the sluggish monotony of his eternity - and he would show her the same light if only she would open her eyes.
Bella begins to mend.
o.o.o
o.o.o
Edward is her buffer in the airport, putting his body between her and everyone else. Though she might have control over her gifts, she still hadn't figured a way to completely block off the default tendency to absorb surface thoughts - even a brush of skin for a fraction of a second is enough to bombard her. She can't imagine what the dense crowd must be like for Edward, though he doesn't complain. She supposes he has had a hundred years to figure out a way to cope; Bella would have a hundred years to do the same, now.
Her new level of indestructibility does make it easier to sit in the airplane without fighting the urge to cower each time they encounter turbulence. Still, it is a hard habit to break and she catches Edward suppressing a grin at her expense more than once. She pinches him in retaliation.
Although the ultimate aim is to visit Italy on this trip, Bella had made it a point to stop off overnight to visit her mother for what might be the very last time - Renee might be Renee, but she would eventually notice that Bella stopped aging. Bella has already mourned this loss. The rest is just saying goodbye, though part of her does wonder if her very human mother had requested a cesarean birth, as if intuiting that a natural birth was simply not possible. There wasn't any way to ask. Bella locks the theory up in her mind, placed on hold to examine for another day.
Because their flight was so late in the night by the time it arrives to Jacksonville International Airport, Bella and Edward flag down a taxi instead of dragging her mother and step-father out of bed to wait at the gates. That doesn't stop Renee from awaiting their arrival, though, opening the front door to the little bungalow before Edward has even pulled their bags from the trunk.
"Baby!" Renee cries, throwing herself forward to shower Bella with kisses and unwittingly exposing Bella to the sheer jubilation rustling through her mother's sun-bright mind.
Bella's chest feels tight; she's missed her mother more than she realized. "Hey, Mom," she says, then nods to the familiarly kind face of her stepfather. "Phil."
"Bella," he greets with warmth. "Bella's boyfriend."
"Edward Cullen," says her mate, holding his hand out for a firm shake. "Pleasure to meet you."
Oh, goodness…Renee thinks once she catches sight of Edward in the light, blinking dazedly for a moment. She shakes her head slightly, leading them into the house, where the living room couch has already been pulled out into a bed and made up for the night. It's a bit of an eyesore, honestly. Renee has grasped the bright, eclectic style of bohemian design with both hands and it shows in the way she has stacked the house with color over print over more color. Even in low lighting, it's a bit much, but it's also totally Renee.
"Are you hungry? Thirsty?" Renee is asking before bulldozing over any response that might have come. "I wish you could stay longer, baby. What time did you say your flight was coming in? Seven? You'll have to leave so early. Are you sure you can't postpone for a few days? Italy will wait - it's not as if Julius is trying to tear down Rome, right?"
Bella smiles tightly, fighting off the fresh wave of sadness that threatens to dim her countenance. "Sorry, Mom, but we're booked for a tour that's really hard to get into. We'll come back soon, though, and stay longer."
She hates that she has to lie - but Renee can never know. By the time Bella fully instituted all of her plans, her mother would be long-gone and it would be easier for Renee if she could believe that Bella had died a happy, if not very abrupt, death. Selfishly, she knows it would be easier for her in the long-run, too. She can't imagine seeing Renee over and over again for as long as she could pass as looking this young, forcing herself to hold her tongue so as to not reveal her secret. Immortality has its perks; this is not one of them.
She and Edward don't sleep that night. He holds her while they listen to the two human heartbeats pumping away in the next room; for once, he isn't sure what to say to make this easier for her because he hadn't had to say any goodbyes to his human life. He hadn't been able to. But the truth is that there is no right way to handle this. And so, because she can't stand sitting still any longer, Bella rises an hour earlier than strictly necessary and putters around the kitchen, making a veritable feast of cinnamon-pecan French toast and rashers of bacon and fresh-cut fruit salad - all of Renee's favorites. By the time Renee and Phil wander into the kitchen, Bella has already made it look like she and Edward have already eaten, though in all honestly Bella had just scraped an orange smothered in syrup over two plates and stuck them unwashed into the sink.
"Hey, Mom. Can I talk to you for a second?" she says after Renee has finished eating.
Renee looks up, perhaps perceptive enough to know that this isn't a conversation that can be had around others. "Sure, baby. Come onto the patio with me and let me show you the cactus I smuggled from Arizona…" And Bella follows along, the early morning sun already making its way behind overcast clouds, to which Renee comments that she and Edward should come back when the weather is more agreeable. Bella doesn't even attempt another lie about visiting. Instead, she untucks her left hand from her oversized cardigan, subtly brandishing her engagement ring in the dim light of sunrise. On cue, Renee gasps, grabbing at Bella's hand to twist it this way and that, examining the ring with wide sky-blue eyes. "Oh goodness. Bella, is this…?"
She smiles with unrestrained happiness. "Edward proposed after graduation."
Renee blinks. "I never thought you'd be getting married, baby, especially not so young."
"He's what I want," Bella responds. "I'm very sure about this, Mom. We're not getting married for several years yet, anyway."
"And he loves you - it's obvious enough. I've never seen anything like it," Renee confesses. "When you move, he moves…You orbit around each other."
"He's my soulmate," Bella says simply.
"But are you sure you're not rushing things? There's not…another reason, is there?" Renee asks skeptically, dropping her eyes to Bella's flat stomach for the barest of a second.
"I'm not pregnant! Oh, my God!"
"Are you sure? A mother always knows, baby."
Bella rolls her eyes, twisting the ring on her finger a few times. "I'm still a virgin. Maybe not lily-white anymore, but he's old fashioned. He wants to wait for marriage before… Anyway, I'll be going to my marriage bed with my honor intact."
"You seem a bit sensitive about the issue," Renee observes with twitching lips.
Bella scowls. "Yes, well, my virginity seems to be a topic of interest to just about everyone."
"Oh?"
"Edward has a brother - Emmett - who relishes in teasing us," she explains, though of course it's more than just Emmett. Her mouth drops open when Renee starts giggling uncontrollably. "Mom! Stop laughing! No, it's horrible!"
The moment of levity sets the tone for the rest of their time together. Renee even gets over Edward's dazzling good looks to ask him about his plans for the future, while Phil seems to get past the slight unease all humans feel toward vampires as if sensing an apex predator in their midst. When the time nears for their departure, Edward calls a cab to the house, even as Renee blusters about weather delays due to a few heavy clouds in the sky, clearing reaching for any reason to stretch their time out - and Bella strengthens her resolve, saying a tearful farewell as the taxi idles in the driveway. She lingers in the embrace, not unlike a hug shared in an airport last August, wallowing in the desert warmth of her mother's mind as she knows deep down it will be the very last time she will ever encounter a mind so warm and free.
She still feels Renee's kiss to her cheek when the plane reaching flying altitude.
o.o.o
o.o.o
When they land in Rome, Edward is already covered head-to-toe in a high-necked lightweight sweater and a knit cap that shades his face; if he ducks his head, he is able to completely avoid the sun peeking between the eaves as they weave through the throngs of people milling about the international airport. Bella leads the way, towing Edward by the hand while he insists on shouldering their bags. They move toward the car rental kiosk, but he pulls them to a stop, head turned sharply in one direction - and Bella latches onto his telepathy, listening to familiar thoughts that reach them loud and clear through the dense crush of humans.
The printesa has arrived, Dimitri notes from his hidden position in the driver's seat of some unbelievably fancy car with black-tinted windows, so dark not even vampire sight gives him away. They would have completely missed him had it not been for Edward's gift, which was surely the entire point.
Dutifully, Bella starts off in the direction of the car, talking over her shoulder to Edward. "Did you know one of the first thoughts I had about you - before we met - was that your car was a bit pretentious?"
He smirks, squeezing her hand. "Not the Debussy?"
"Well, that too…But I take it back. This is pretentious," she says of the car, the door of which opens before she can even reach for the handle. She stares at the dark interior and the empty back seat before sliding in, catching Dimitri's eyes in the rearview mirror with a small smile.
"Ostentatious," Edward agrees, moving at human-speed as he drops their luggage into the trunk and then sliding in beside her, draping his arm over her shoulder. "Dimitri, nice to see you again."
"Hello, printesa," Dimitri intones genially. "Edward."
Unlike the Cullens, Dimitri drives at an acceptable speed which Edward thinks is a damn shame. Although she doesn't quite get it, she supposes that a car like this should be speeding along the winding, narrow Italian roads rather than slinking along at the same speed of human drivers. Bella appreciates the time that driving at this speed allows though; she is able to really appreciate the old-world beauty of the land around them, so very different from America. There is something about the Italian landscape that evokes a sense of lethargy, as if the rest of the world could and would wait. And Volterra, with its architecture alone, might be one of the most beautiful places Bella had ever personally laid eyes on. She can see why the Volturi would be reluctant to leave such a place.
Felix is waiting in the underground parking lot that Dimitri drives into, his massive body nearly vibrating in excitement. "Good day, principessa!" he exclaims, dipping into a bow only deep enough to show respect.
Bella holds her hand out with a wide smile, allowing Felix to press a small kiss to her knuckles, followed quickly by Dimitri once he has assisted Edward with their bags. "I've missed you two," she says plainly. "How have you been?"
And because Dimitri is still holding her hand - and because he is so accustomed to doing so with Aro - he releases a swell of memories from the last time they saw each other, rapidly filling her in on both his and his mate's well-being. It's a bit startling, to be honest, and she takes several moments to sort through the dump of information before smiling again, this time in bemusement. It seems that the cat is out of the bag about where Dimitri, Felix, Jane, and Alec had disappeared to the month before; they'd been very popular upon their return with the remaining Volturi guard exceedingly curious about what the blood-daughter of Aro was like. Additionally, there was also some disquiet from the handful of vampires who were new the guard - vampires that had been given gifts of uncooperative vampires via Mele's power transference in the spring - and who had met the wrong end of Jane and Alec's glares for their indifference or downright scorn of Bella. All sanctioned by Aro, of course.
She isn't sure whether to be touched or disturbed - and so settles on having no reaction at all, though she does exchange a heavy glance with Edward as she pulls away from Dimitri. Edward, thankfully, is relaxed in the very place that he has regarded with dread for so long; she's glad for it, because Bella is inexplicably nervous about being here. Now that she is in Volterra, part of her mind trembles with the idea that nothing would go as planned. The two Volturi guards guide them into the castle through a series of stone hallways that grow more and more obviously old the deeper they go; by the time they are in the castle proper, the stone hallways are made of carvings and tapestries and priceless pieces of artwork. She makes a note to drag her grandparents from their throne room to explain the history behind each collection she passes - and more importantly, why these collections aren't in museums.
There are many unfamiliar faces they come across as they skirt closer and closer to the center of the castle - an assortment of attractive, cloaked vampires who pause, nostrils flaring, and then fall in line behind Bella and Edward and Felix, with Dimitri at the helm. One of the unfamiliar faces is human - Gianna - who acts as a sort of receptionist for the Volturi and greets Bella with a pretty smile, by far the most casual greeting she has received all day. Bella smiles back, head tilting slightly when a brush of Edward's fingers over the back of her hand informs her that Gianna has been promised immortality in return for her services. Interesting.
Dimitri pushes the double doors open, standing aside to let Bella and Edward pass. The whisper-quiet sound of feet following behind them stops after the entryway is cleared, the doors falling shut with a soft click. And then the sea of vampires begins to part, giving Bella her first view of the elevated platform holding three unmistakably ornate thrones and three decidedly powerful vampires, two of dark hair and one of icy white-blonde.
Aro stands, holding his arms out with a beaming smile. "Precious!"
She pauses, dipping her head in deference. "Grandfather," she murmurs, stepping forward with both of her hands held out, engagement ring glittering in the low light of the large, square room. Edward remains a few steps behind her, hands held behind his back and posture erect, the perfect picture of collection.
Aro's cool fingers grip her own. My precious granddaughter, he croons, fascinated by the memories that she shows him - of her changes, of her ability, of the battle, and of the aftermath that she has only now stopped struggling with so much. How delighted I am to see you, darling.
Bella responds in kind, laughing lightly. Where is Grandmother?
One of her many projects has claimed her attention in the solarium.
Might I see her now?
"All in due time," he says aloud, fondly cupping her cheek. "Come, you must meet your Uncles Marcus and Caius. They have been very eager to make your acquaintance, precious, along with the rest of the guard."
Later, Bella will contend that her uncles were less eager and more curious to meet her - Caius was openly perplexed by her existence, while Marcus spent several moments marveling at her ability to have a fully-fleshed mating bond. She has the sense that they are already caught up with all details pertaining to her and that this meet-and-greet is just for show, something she wouldn't put past Aro to do at all. It is a struggle to desist from feeling like a shiny new toy, especially when Bella is passed from guard to guard, each who show her a cautious sort of deference that is, at best, artificial. None are openly hostile - those who might have been had already been weeded by Aro and removed by Mele earlier in the year - but neither are they friendly, except for those who she would count as her friends. As Aro watches the scene indulgently, Felix and Dimitri move as her shadows, right along with Edward.
It's a bit funny. Surely they know that she is the most dangerous creature in the castle, right? She may not like it, but Bella is more than capable of dropping anyone who dared to threaten her or her mate. All it would take was a touch.
She maintains her affable façade, though she does brighten honestly once she catches sight of three faces she had been looking for. "Alistair!"
He returns her greeting with a graceless smile, more teeth than an expression of emotion - and Bella represses a snort at how out-of-place the upward turn of his lips are on his face. She must not do a very good job, though, because Alistair scowls, casting a darkly narrowed eye in her direction as he turns away, stepping behind his mate's shoulder to rest among the shadows.
Jane actually steps forward to hug her, something which shocks several guards enough that they actually gasp audibly. "I see you have been well," Jane says stiffly, though a smile touches her crimson eyes as she catches sight of Bella's engagement ring.
"As have you," Bella observes, eying the incredibly obvious bite mark that rests high on Jane's neck, right beneath her jaw.
Jane sneers and then it is her brother's turn. Alec - of course - bows more deeply than required. "Mistress Isabella, how wonderful that we meet again," he expresses obnoxiously, once again for his own entertainment.
"Wonderful isn't the word I'd use," she snipes in response, softening the comment with a twitch of her lips.
From his perch on the throne, Aro laughs in delight.
o.o.o
o.o.o
And so pass the days in Volterra, an arguably very strange, very isolated place. She's stunned that humans are brought in like takeout delivery - she knew, of course, that was Heidi's role in the Volturi, the lure of her siren's call putting scores of humans at ease, but it is something else entirely to see it. Bella is discomfited to witness it and more disturbed to note that the itch in her throat begins to burn when human veins are opened. She can scent it for days afterward and leans on Edward to find some respite in her unexpected reaction.
Her mate, for his part, handles it all with grace. Some of the Volturi are intrigued by his gift as well as his life style and when Bella is in session with the Kings of the Volturi, Edward spends his time with the guards - networking for lack of a better term. With his ability to pluck thoughts directly out of minds, it doesn't ever take long for Edward to convince yet another vampire that animal blood isn't so bad as to not give it a shot at least once. He presents it like a challenge, positively mimicking Emmett's methods of persuasion for vampires who are more skeptical.
Bella is glad that Edward is not bothered by being in Italy - one less worry to occupy her mind as she wades deep into hour-long discussions about the new world order that Aro has been dreaming of for nearly two thousand years.
A new world order that Bella knows how to deliver, if only given the chance.
o.o.o
o.o.o
"I'm not being hyperbolic when I say that you're extremely out of touch with reality," she says one day, seated on a velvet ruby chaise lounge. Aro, Marcus, and Caius are scattered around the room in various immobile positions, each of them willing to listen to her for the moment. She knows that the attention they are giving her, the opportunity to convince them that her way is better, is a very rare occurrence and so she does not beat around the bush. "You want the human world for yourselves, for power or for peace, but do you even know the state of things? Entire parts of the world are dying of hunger and disease; dictators are war-mongering for profit; terrorism is liable to kill us all before global warming does. And none of that is to even touch upon social inequality. You say you want vampire society to become one with human society, but what have you done to make it happen? Nothing. You can't really expect to get what you want just by languishing in your ivory towers, can you?"
"Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself," Aro quotes, referencing something Tolstoy once said.
"Exactly," Bella nods. "If you ever want the world at your fingertips the way you say that you do, then you can't possibly allow the world to continue on as it is. You certainly have the coin to end the debts of countries several times over, the resources to stop terrorism in its tracks, and the ability to provide medicine, water, and food aid where it is needed."
"We haven't wanted to interfere in human issues," Marcus explains.
She shakes her head. "But you can't have it both ways. You cant want the world and then let it burn at the same time."
"What would you have us do, precious?"
Bella stands at her grandfather's prodding. "It's not something that could happen overnight. It would take time. You'd have to start small, inserting yourself into world governments and fixing their issues from the inside out - gain the trust of the humans without letting them know that you're not human yourself. And you'd have to do something about vampire laws. You enforce only one - the secret - and even then it's not enforced consistency. Where's the judicial system? Where are the actual laws, the legislation that outlines crime and punishment? It's no wonder the Volturi are slowly losing the respect of the vampire world - you're viewed as nothing more than particularly violent oligarchs by half the nomads and covens. You need to actually write enforceable laws and enforce them yourselves instead of waiting to be asked for aid. And what's more, your laws can't be only about vampires - they need to protect humans, too -
Caius scoffs. "You would have us neutered-"
"I wouldn't!" she retorts. "But how would you expect humans to trust you, to want to copulate with vampires and knowingly create hybrids, if you don't even bother to ensure that humans aren't safe in their cities, in their homes? I mean, take Victoria for instance - she must have caused fifty deaths in the space of a month alone, between siring vampires and feeding them hapless humans. That can't happen. Vampires can't just be allowed to feed whenever they want - there has to be a better way that doesn't reduce you to feeding on animals -
"What do you suggest, child?"
Bella shrugs. "I don't know yet, but there's time. A scientific solution can be found, I'm sure."
"And you'll be the one to find it?"
She lifts her chin in defiance of Uncle Caius caustic tone. "Why not me? I already plan on studying medicine - I might as well do that and find an alternate food source that is acceptable to the vampire palate. I'm not entirely convinced that it's actually blood that vampires thrive on anyway; it seems much more likely that it's the macro and micronutrients carried in blood than the blood itself. I mean, remove the iron and other bits, and blood is just water…"
"Fascinating," Aro decides. "But darling, what makes you think that the humans would be willing to actually trust the undead agents who have infiltrated their governments over the course of several decades? They fear us, and rightly so."
Bella blinks. "I'm sorry, but you're suffering under the rather peculiar misconception that you're not alive."
The three ancient vampires startle at her flat proclamation and she shakes her head, finding it very usual and far-reaching that none had bothered to view themselves as anything other than reanimated for three thousand years. It must be a product of their time, to inherently believe that they are soulless, not alive; it might even be a byproduct of being innate, instinctive killers. In fact, feeding off of human blood for so long and so violently must be hell on the psyche. It was worth noting that of all the Cullens, it was Edward and Jasper - the only two to feed from humans for a period of time - had the notion that they were somehow demonized, while Carlisle and Rosalie - two in particular who had never drank a drop of human blood - still maintained the idea that they were living some semblance of life. Human blood was corrosive to the vampire mind, in a way, and that was all the more reason to find a solution for the feeding issue.
"Since when has heartbeat been an indicator of life?" she asks. "Plants do not have hearts, and yet they are most certainly still alive."
"We are not plants," Caius points out scathingly.
Bella remains unbothered by his tone. "Well, it's easier to comprehend if you view vampirism as a disease."
"A disease- Aro! This girl of yours is completely nonsensical!" he exclaims.
Bella sighs. "Actually, it's an inheritable disease if we want to be specific - I'm living proof. Theoretically, the virus delivered by the venom of a vampire bite causes a mutation of the cells, which is why the human body undergoes such drastic changes. And somewhat like other human diseases, the changes are physical and they cause a change in diet, along with the way the body digests life-sustaining nutrients. I posit that vampires are actually just highly evolved in terms of cell productivity. Vampire bodies are incredibly efficient, delivering nutrients to cells so rapidly that other organs become vestigial with no wasted energy at all. And, to be frank, if you were actually dead, I highly doubt you would be able to have sex, as the production of ejaculate would indicate that body productivity is still processing. If you were dead, it would be impossible to, er - to mate, let alone heal your bodies, produce venom, or even lubricate your eyes….All signs point to life," she finishes bluntly. "Just a different sort of life. A new definition."
Marcus sits down and Caius seems to have been rendered mute.
Bella bites her lip, looking at her grandfather, who has frozen with his head cocked to the side as he processes her utterly sound logic. "I think that humans would accept that, don't you?"
o.o.o
o.o.o
That is July.
o.o.o
o.o.o
That is the year that forever changed Isabella Swan's life.
A/N: Credit where credit is due - the dancing scene in this chapter came directly from a comment from a certain someone on Facebook, otherwise we would have been without that moment of sweetness!
Eep! You guys! It's done! DAS ENDE, you know what I mean? Except, you know, for the epilogue…and then the other epilogue. But then after that it's DONE!...I mean, except for the outtakes…
Speaking of outtakes! If you want to submit an idea for an outtake, either stick it in a review or a PM or find me on Facebook - I am considering all ideas, including scenes from the story written from other perspectives. If you want to see it, then let me know. No guarantees that every outtake proposal will be met, but I'll do my best!
I'll be accepting outtake requests until MARCH 31, 2017.
As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.
~cupcakeriot