the outtakes
memory
(part four)
We don't remember days, we remember moments.
- Cesare Pavese
o.o.o
MAY
o.o.o
As a vampire, Edward feels a particular sort of dread during the springtime - after all, with spring comes summer and with summer comes the promise of the sun, which would leave him shut inside or cowering in the nearest shadow lest he betray his nature with the implacable distraction of his sparkling vampiric skin.
Of course, he'd never had the pleasure of seeing Bella in the sun until this past year and he must confess that he is greatly looking forward to watching the warm light play across her skin and hair - both of which glow as if lit from the inside now that she has undergone her own transformation. Privately, he would love to see all of her skin on display for his eyes only, but he knows that isn't possible. Yet.
And certainly not now when he is picking her up for school.
Or rather, trying to drag himself away from her distractingly delicious kisses, flavored with her strong coffee and the blood of a wily elk. Which, while not exactly palatable to Edward, was clearly a delight to his mate and he would endure for her sake. It wasn't as if the combination was more grotesque than those mortifying weeks in the autumn where he'd been forcing himself to actually ingest human food before she had persuaded him differently. Coffee and blood he could more than handle.
Edward drags himself away from a deep kiss with a chuckle, tracing the edge of her book of the day with a raised brow. "Slyvia Plat? That's a bit…"
His mate rolls her eyes good-naturedly, a glint in her eye as she curls her fingers around the nape of his neck, holding him in place just long enough to rub against the scar her little fangs had left in his skin. He represses a shiver as she retorts, "Aside from the whole head-in-the-oven thing, she was a very misunderstood woman. Her work is sheer brilliance."
"Is that so?"
He allows her to reel him in, drawing him closer with his hips wedged between her thighs. It isn't strictly appropriate given their outdoor location on the Swan's front porch, but it wasn't as if any of the neighbors were around to witness their embrace. Edward tilts his chin upward to perfect the angle of their kiss, growling softly when she audaciously bits on his bottom lip just hard enough to split his skin for a quick second, flicking her clever tongue against the fast-healing gash with a sharp spike in her scent.
God, but he is shamefully proud of how the taste of his venom-tinged blood is enough to drive her wild.
"We should go to school," he says after a moment, clearing his throat.
Bella smiles sweetly, almost too innocent for the minx he knows she has hidden deep inside, and then slips from the porch railing, heading toward the Volvo while he gathers her backpack. Then, she pauses. "Hold on," she sighs. "I forgot to get the newspaper."
"I'll get it," he offers. "It's the least I can do for distracting you so thoroughly."
Edward employs vampire speed to grab the folded issues of The New York Times and The Seattle Times and he idly unfolds them only for his eyes to dart across -
And he knows that his mate is speaking, that she always deserves his fullest attention, but -
There is no mistaking a headline like this.
SEATTLE SERIAL KILLER? Among A Rash Of Disappearances and Bloodless Murders A Pattern Has Emerged!
He isn't the least bit surprised to hear Bella's cellphone chirp, or for her to answer the phone with a confused, "Alice?"
"You and Edward need to come to the house," Alice breathes on the other side.
Edward nods to himself, clutching the papers mindfully. He can't be certain that Alice has learned of these events by watching this moment in real-time, or if she has seen the news online, so it is important that this copy of The Seattle Times be preserved.
Bella says, "Alright. We'll be right there."
Yes. A family meeting is much more important a venture than attending human school. This was the type of news that constituted an emergency -
There is no hiding it from Bella, however, even if he had wanted to. She's too curious by half and before the Volvo has even left her street, she is reading the newspaper with a voracious sort of focus - the exact type of singular attention that had made her so interesting to him in the very beginning. Now it is this attention that has given her a firm glimpse of the exact types of atrocities vampires were capable of, if she hadn't been aware before.
Edward is unable to feel nausea. He simply doesn't possess the constitution for it any longer.
(But if it were possible, he's certain he would be sick to his stomach.)
o.o.o
o.o.o
"A mate for a mate," Victoria mutters to herself in the vision - and there is a flash of dozens of vampires with human-red eyes of the newly-turned - and the snarling curl of Victoria's mouth as she lunges at the whisper-thin images of Edward and Bella. Nothing about the vision is substantial, nothing except for Victoria's motivation.
(A mate for a mate. How God can be so cruel is beyond him.)
o.o.o
o.o.o
May is - quick. Frighteningly so.
Edward is made quite aware that Bella is in the process of heaving behind a decidedly human life. She trains with a new energy, a new goal in mind; she integrates into her personality an aspect of responsibility that is frankly more than practical; she even dons a new cloak, taking up political arms in response to the crisis of Victoria's looming threat.
He can do nothing but he supportive.
It is as she says - even without Edward, this would have been Bella's world eventually. That she is taking up the mantel sooner rather than later simply is what it is. He must make peace with that.
(Though, it is certainly a blow to his ego that his mate should be so proficiently independent. She is, however, firmly a millennial and he is not eager to make the mistake of assuming that she is too young, too innocent to look after herself.
All it takes is a touch, after all.)
o.o.o
o.o.o
Edward does what he can to be the support she needs - perhaps even the steady rock she doesn't realize she requires to stand. He has been wracking his mind, trying to find a place to fit into this world that Bella is creating around her, trying to locate his niche without stepping on toes -
And it is so very important, so vital, that he is able to do this for her because she has done so much for him. She might not realize it, but he does. He knows.
So he observes and slips into place where it suits him. At her side, an anchor, a harbor, a buoy should she ever need it.
Edward strives to be his mate's sense of normalcy.
So he takes her to a human ritual - prom, a dance where she is a vision in blue and is content to sway in his arms, and he is happy even with the chaos around them. For a single night, it is just Edward and Bella. For just a few hours, they are together without compromise. Just for a while, it is easy to forget the threat looming over them all, casting a pall of stress and shadow over each ever-waking hour.
(It doesn't last.)
o.o.o
o.o.o
JUNE
o.o.o
Edward doesn't like Jane.
Frankly, he doesn't appreciate the Volturi presence in Cullen territory at all - the implication of sending a team of guards to a territory that is already managed is a slight against the Cullen ability to manage their territory - but he understands why they have come. Aro wants to protect Bella. Aro doesn't think Edward can protect Bella.
(Edward tries valiantly to not be offended by this - but again, the implication is rather heavy-handed.)
He can accept that the Volturi is here. He can even accept that each guard has a certain set of orders that must be observed, including placing a stranglehold on Edward's ability to be physically close to his mate; after all, he's wise enough to see that Bella would be having words with her relative about this decree and he can be content in the knowledge that she will speak on behalf of both of them -
(Because it is one thing to know that Bella abstains for Edward, even if she isn't particularly inclined herself to celibacy in the wake of her new senses and the unerring draw of the unconsummated mating bond between them. Bella abstains with Edward because Edward's morality demands it. She does this to respect him, he knows. Edward also knows that she won't be best pleased to discover that a third party would deign to have any control over their physical relationship. It is, in fact, another issue entirely if abstinence is forced upon them, prior promises of chastity notwithstanding.
He digresses.)
So, no. There are quite a few reasons to feel the imposition of this Volturi arrival and Edward can find logical reasoning to make peace with most of them. Except for Jane.
Of course he knows about her. He isn't sure there is a vampire in the world who has had associations with the Volturi and not heard of the witch-twins, Alec and Jane. Illusionists of sensory deprivation and sensory anguish, opposites of the same coin, and notorious in certain circles for having a less than reputable nature. And now one of those twins, arguably the more sadistically inclined, stands not three feet from his mate and the only thing saving them all from unimaginable pain at Jane's mercy is a flick of an eyelid and a will that seems to be constantly balancing on a precarious edge.
Jane is dangerous because she is easily bored. It just so happens that the easiest cure to her boredom also involves liberal use of her…gift.
A curse, if anyone asked Edward. But it is probably a good thing that they had not asked him -
He wants the Volturi guard far, far away from Bella.
And yet, it is not his decision. As of this moment, with the memorandum of Aro's final order still fresh in the guard's minds, it isn't even up to Aro. It's up to Bella.
It's a test.
(The first of many tests that Aro will foist upon his heir, Edward will soon find out, and it is so ruthlessly pragmatic that when he does finally put it all together, he will only be able to stand in stupefaction as he watches his mate unwittingly - then wittingly - rise to each occasion set before her in obstacle.
It's amazing, really, how Edward had found himself mated to a political animal, and a fifteen-year-old one at that.)
Bella issues succinct orders, and the Volturi seem ready to listen, even though Jane is grudging about the entire arrangement. Charlie, however, is less inclined to follow the orders of his daughter and makes a token attempt to protest.
"Now, Bells, I don't know that I'm comfortable with this," Charlie says firmly, hands on his hips, as if he isn't surrounded by three human-drinking traditionalists and only one true ally to fend them off. "I know Aro sent them and all, but these people are strangers…and we don't have a guest room for them."
"They don't sleep," Bella counters flatly.
"I will personally guarantee that we won't be any trouble for you, Master Charles," Felix declares. "We have our orders."
"Exactly," Edward injects warily. "That is precisely my concern."
"Oh, please," scoffs Jane. "We are here to guard the girl, so we will be wherever she is whether you like it or not, mind-reader."
Edward steps forward minutely. "I can read your mind, Jane, and so I know perfectly well that you are compelled here only for-"
Pain. Agony ripping through every inch of his body -
And then Bella's scent - tart, summer-sweet berries - and her voice snapping, Stop that! - and then the pain is gone in an instant. And of course it was, being an illusion -
(Bella is standing in front of him and he knows that Jane is still holding her gift out like a sword, but it's not touching Bella at all - and it's not touching Edward, either. And they knew, didn't they, that Bella was quite gifted, more so than any of them might have imagined.)
Jane is no match for Bella, something which Jane realizes with a lurch in her confidence. "As you say, Mistress Isabella," Jane says in response to Bella's order, though her tone is grudging.
"Just Bella, please," mutters his mate as she shifts, pressing her palm to her forehead and completely missing the slack shock on Jane's face as she waives formalities.
Edward happens to be privy to the falter in the caustic edge of Jane's mind - happens to know that Bella not standing on ceremony that she truly does deserve, being of Aro's blood, is such a surprise that Jane can't help but warm herself to this new mission. And when Jane realizes that Edward is encroaching on this realization, she bares her teeth and turns away -
But Edward knows. He always knows.
So does his mate as she reaches for his hand, dragging him into a discussion about the logistics of the Volturi guard being in Forks that he honestly has no say in, though he does appreciate that Bella is constantly placing them on even playing fields.
And Aro would not send someone whose loyalty he doubted, she reminds him carefully.
Edward bows his head, squeezing her hand gently. I trust your judgment, he finally acquiesces.
(And even though Jane makes a play at remaining disgruntled by the personal nature of her assignment by calling Bella a half-breed to her face, Edward can't find any bearing to hold onto anything but a healthy dose of weariness around the other vampires - especially with the events in the clearing that soon follow, and not even when later Jane turns her gift on him a second time to force Bella's shield into expanding -
No, he may not like Jane, but so long as she isn't moving against his Bella, then he will tolerate her presence.)
o.o.o
o.o.o
(And then there is the boon that he does not mention to anyone, not even Bella.
The Volturi guard refer to him as Prince in their minds, a formality that they withhold expressing for the fact that he and Bella have yet to be wed and they all can scent that the mating bond remains unfinished. Still, he is mate to a Princess of the Volturi and while she may demand informalities that only Felix - and occasionally Jane - observe, it is part of the pomp and circumstance of Volturi tradition instigated by Aro that Edward, too, has a place in the politics of vampire royalty.
Knowing that Edward is a telepath, the Volturi guard refrain from calling him Prince out loud - but they hold no such reservations in their minds. Jane, in particular, seems to enjoy waving the title over Edward's mind along with whatever scathing, sarcastic vitriol spews forth from her thoughts.
Edward would like to reject it - but.
If Bella has embraced her heritage, then he has no choice but to go along. This had never been his aspiration, but so long as it is Bella's goal to remain part of the Volturi line, so long as she is involved with her blood-kin in Aro, then Edward with bite his tongue and work to acclimate to the jump of new status that he has somehow acquired, silent in observation though it may be.)
o.o.o
o.o.o
June passes in a series of strategic alignments.
"I never thought I would see the day when the Volturi guard willingly worked with werewolves," Carlisle muses as the other covens arrive.
And yes - that quite sums up Edward's own feelings of disbelief as contacts from all over the world, as even the Quileute wolves, gather to the Olympic Northwest at the summons of the Cullen Coven. Not one of them had expected the response to be so swift.
Neither had Edward expected that, once it was understood who Bella was and that she was indeed an integral part of the tactical planning that was taking place, the other vampires would acquiesce so easily to leadership that is not strictly Cullen. The visiting covens all understand that Bella is Volturi before Cullen and yet they are all willing to follow her -
They all follow Bella where they do not follow the Volturi Kings, a pill made easier to swallow with Bella's swift reprimanding of the second half of the witch-twins, Alec, who wastes no time in his displeasure of being allied with ravenous beasts -
"I'll remind you that I am the niece of Caius," she says sharply. "The wolves are off-limits, but I will be more than happy to deal with any fallout that should occur with my uncle."
As you wish, Princess, Alec concedes silently -
(It is, as far as Edward is concerned, the final nail in the coffin insofar as his own realizations are concerned. Bella was born for this position - a natural leader - and she thrives in this environment of constant challenges.
It makes him wonder for a few hours if he truly belongs at her side. Mates do not happen by accident, however, and just because Bella has this side of her, it does not detract from all the wonderful qualities that have endeared her to him so fiercely. She's a political force to be reckoned with, but she is also a nurturer, a philosopher, a scientist, and in possession of what is perhaps the greatest, kindest, most selfless mind he has ever come across -
Edward is not so old as to be incapable of change, but Bella is not asking him to adapt; she only asks that he holds her hand.
And that he can do.)
o.o.o
o.o.o
I believe in you, he thinks as he presses a kiss to the crown of her head. His hand plays over her fingers, lingering over a particular one for long enough that his mind unwittingly flashes with an image of a particular ring - and then Edward steels himself. I adore you, Bella…
Wait! Save it, she tells him as she pushes hair away from his forehead. Don't taint your proposal with this uncertainty hanging over our heads. I want to remember the way you ask without it being marred by all this stress.
A wise choice, all things considered.
Edward's hand skims up her arm to curve around the base of her skull, dragging her into an impassioned kiss even as he thinks, I can't wait to marry you…but I can wait to propose.
I can't wait to say yes.
o.o.o
o.o.o
What to remember about June 19th?
(There is so much to remember, so many things that changed Edward - and he had already been changing for eight months prior that maybe these changes weren't noticeable to any save himself, but still they were changes. Yes, he had been just as altered by the events of that day - he will never forget -)
It is the day that Edward learns what the remaining half of a mated-pair looks like when the first vampire has passed from the world.
(There is Victoria, a piteous character, washed out and a pale imitation of the creature she had been in February. She is crazed with eyes blackened by hunger, a mind blackened by grief, and a body blackened by soot and dirt in equal measure. Venom has stained her lips, which are twisted into a snarl. She roves the land, a wild thing hinged only two things: vengeance and James. This is what vampire grief looks like - living, but not alive, breathing, but not of air, seeing, but nothing which is real. Even the bloodlust is gone from Victoria's mind and it is this absence of the thing that has damned them all to the world that tells Edward that Victoria is too far-gone. She is starving, hollow-cheeked and half-blind from a hunger that she simply doesn't feel anymore; there is no room left in her except for a constant mantra of JamesJamesJames. She must be put down - it would be a mercy. Now, he understands.)
It is the day that Jasper, his brother in all but sire, finally finds closure from the violence that had marked his early life.
(There is Maria, with her grotesquely scarred face and a mind of rock-climbing ambition that glosses over every terrible moment of Jasper's newborn years and all the faint impressions of the times Maria has stalked Jasper, learning this new version of him that is improved by Alice, but always, always in the shadow and - and then there is Maria's head, flying to the left while her body continues to the right, that dark hair tangling on grass and root as it rolls and rolls and rolls - and then there is Jasper's triumph and his betrayed heart and Alice's chiming voice guiding him back to the moment -
It is the day that he and Bella give chase to prey that cannot be let free to roam the Earth, not with her new responsibility that she has taken upon herself and not with his determination to help her bear the weight of the world in any small way he can.
(There is the forest blurring beneath their feet and the curling firebrand red hair ahead of them, leading them into territory protected by a treaty and marked by the rank scent of wolf - and none of them hesitate, though he surely wishes it was an option. And then there is his mates mind twirling sharply through his own, taking tacit control of his telepathy and latching onto Victoria's mind with a single-minded focus that is both painful and admirable. Bella bleeds, as she always does when she pushes her gifts too far, but it does not stop her. Nothing does.)
It is the day he and his mate finally speak to the conductor of the chaos that has forced Bella to become soldier first and girl second.
(There is Victoria again and she screams, "You killed him! You killed James! Jamie, Jamie, my James!"
"And you killed a lot of innocent people," Bella responds flatly.
"Innocent?" Victoria echoes. "No, no, no, not innocent - they're going to help me get my James back! They agreed! You killed him and I'm going to kill you! She promised!"
"I hate to break it to you, but Maria is dead and so are all your little helpers," Edward says.
"You're next," Bella quickly adds, advancing on Victoria with measured steps, her hands held out as Edward mirrors her pace by pace. "All it takes is a touch.")
It is the day that Bella follows a lunatic off a cliff, launching her diminutive form after Victoria, diving deep into the quivering, dark waters just off the rocky shoreline with no heed to her own safety.
(There is Edward, gaping after his mate as she is dragged around by the undertow and he cannot see her for the water is too dark and there is no sun to lend a light beyond the clouds and what can he do except take the same leap of faith that his fearless mate took? Bella feared nothing. He would not cower in metaphorical shadows, either.)
It is the day that Bella takes a life.
(There are her hands upon Victoria's saltwater-slick skin, her nails gouging deep into unforgiving flesh right there in the water and they are sinking, and then floating, and then sinking even as Edward swims after them - but Bella doesn't seem to notice. Her eyes are glowing an unnaturally bright green, lanterns in black-blue water, and her skin is flushing with vitality even as Victoria's eyes roll uselessly in their sockets, even as the fight seems to seep from Victoria's body. Even as Victoria's mind falls silent - all from a touch.)
It is the day that all Edward is able to do is burn the body and hope that the lack of evidence - the lack of reminder - will be enough for Bella because even without touching her - he knows. He knows. He knows.
(There is water-logged clothes dried by the lick of driftwood-blue flame, plumes of purple-grey smoke carrying away the cloying scent of burning vampire flesh - smoke that is mirrored several miles away in a different, larger pyre. Edward takes care of the body, and then he takes care of his mate as best as he is able, pulling her into his arms, cradled against his chest with her head beneath her chin and patience in his bearing.)
It's June 19th and they will never be quite the same again.
o.o.o
o.o.o
Bella copes as well as can be expected - but it is difficult because they know that her vitality is sustained by the energy of another. Victoria's death had fed Bella with far more efficiency than blood and food combined -
He makes peace with it more quickly than she does.
It's his prerogative to be thankful for anything that has the ability to protect his mate - and there is no denying that this ability of Bella's would protect her more thoroughly than even a rash of Volturi guards.
He waits for Bella to come to him because he will not rush this reconciliation that she must reach.
They all make peace in their own ways.
o.o.o
o.o.o
He takes her to the meadow, as seems appropriate. The meadow is where this all began for them - and it only seems right that he make the steps toward permanency in a place that has so much meaning.
"You seem nervous," she observes with a delighted smile after they have watched the entirety of the sunset. Bella is snugly secure with her back against his chest as he sits in the direct center of the meadow, legs splayed on either side of her hips, his hands tapping an unnamed melody against her cardigan-covered wrists.
Edward pauses, shifting minutely beneath her weight. "Well, I am about to put my ego at risk."
"Is that supposed to be a joke? I must be missing the punchline - or for a vampire, you have a remarkably poor memory," she razzes fondly, reaching up to trace the jittering shape of his lips with the barest touch of her fingers before smoothing her palm in an upward caress from chin to temple, ending with her hand carding gently through his tousled hair.
It is all so natural, the way they fit together even after everything that happened or will happen in the future. He cannot help but lean into her touch, a smile touching his mouth as she gazes up at him with unmasked adoration.
"Now you really are wounding my ego."
"Imagine all the pain you could avoid if you would just ask the question," is her mellow response.
"Isabella Swan, I promise to love you every moment, forever," he murmurs, looking at her from beneath his lashes, gaze soft. Edward takes her left hand tenderly with his own, carefully straightening each of her fingers before reverently sliding a platinum ring onto her finger. His mother's ring fits as perfectly as kismet with a long, oval face and a cluster of slanted diamonds that is timeless and demure. Even as she studies the ring, she seems to register the way Edward's mind wonders over the way it looks on her hand - like she is finally his in all the ways that matter to them both. "Would you do me the extraordinary honor of marrying me?"
Her answer is a soul-searing kiss and a resounding, fiercely joyful yes.
(Still, he does not feel foolish for his nerves. Bella has taught him that nothing is set in stone.)
o.o.o
JULY
o.o.o
He loves the way she says his name when lust grips them both and encourages them - like a devil on the shoulder - to toe the line of abstinence that they have agreed to. Although, it's hardly Edward's fault that the sight of that ring on her finger is enough to stoke the flames of his desire -
"Edward," she breathes, shuddering against him where he has crowded her against his bookshelves, a hard line against her back as he hunches around her, one hand plucking at her puckered nipple, the other swirling expertly against her clitoris, and his teeth buried deep into the long line of her throat.
Bella enjoys the dominance that Edward seems to possess naturally, something to be grateful for considering the way that their instincts scream the best when she is under him, mewling and squirming and utterly under his mercy.
Her fingers curl into the shelves before her, back arching with futile movement that does little but rub her backside against his hardness. He snarls against her skin, a warning, and she stills again, limbs quivering with the effort to stay still as he shifts his hand lower, turning his wrist until he can thrust fingers shallowly into her tight body, enjoying the uptick of her pulse that gushes passion-riddled blood into his waiting mouth. He flicks his tongue against her skin, lapping at stray rolls of blood, and mimics the rhythm with ever-deepening thrusts of his fingers. Her chest heaves as he pulls his mouth away, laving against the quick-healing crescents of his teeth.
"Please, please," she gasps, nearly soundless.
He rumbles against her ear. "What do you want?"
She shakes her head. She can't say it - but she does take advantage of the skin he's touching, pushing broken images of her desire toward him artlessly and Edward -
He growls, renewing his attentions to her body, curling his fingers against her until she keens, rocking onto her toes to escape the overstimulation as he chases her first orgasm into her second. Tears gather in her eyes, so overwhelmed by lust she is, by the time he eases off her still-clenching quim. And then, before she can regain her balance or even her wits, he twists her body around and in one economical movement, places pressure on her shoulders until her knees buckle and she is face-level with his straining cock -
(For a millisecond, he pauses. Is this alright? Is it okay? Is it within the bounds of skirting the line around actual sex? Because he hasn't got his mouth on her yet - just his fingers, just her hand - and that's enough, it is, it really is - but Bella had such a - frankly - such a thirst for the fantasy in her mind and it's not really sex and - and Edward won't deny either of them this. He won't.)
He swallows heavily at the sight of her on her knees before him, back pressed against priceless first edition vinyl records, and then reaches forward and - with a faint, tight-chested smirk - smears his glistening fingers across her swollen mouth. Bella inhales sharply. She licks her lips, pauses, then closes her eyes and opens her mouth -
An invitation he does not and cannot refuse.
o.o.o
o.o.o
Edward never thought he would help plan his wedding. It simply wasn't done when he was human. Not only were weddings much simpler affairs, but it was a matter of fact that his best Sunday suit would have been enough to be married in a church and that was as much thought as Edward would have been expected to put into the affair.
And yet - this is not 1918 and his bride-to-be is not the most interested in lavish events. Not as much as, say, Alice.
So he assists where he can and does his best, much to the amusement of his entire family. Emmett certainly has a good chuckle at Edward's expense until Rosalie - surprisingly - puts a right stop to it under threat of giving Emmett the responsibility of their vow renewals when the time comes -
Emmett quiets after that.
He does not mind that it is not traditional for the man to be involved in the planning.
After all, his Bella is not a traditional girl.
o.o.o
o.o.o
Edward steels himself as he catches Dimitri's thoughts - The printesa has arrived - just outside the airport terminal, the car cast in shadow and the driver hidden from view by heavily shaded windows. Printesa. Princess. Bella.
She lobs a wry brow in his direction. "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.
"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."
(Geniality, as it turns out, is the best that Edward will expect from this visit to Volterra. As he'd realized months before, his being mated to the Volturi Princess had elevated his position in vampire society from One of the Strange Vegetarians and The Long-Range Telepath to Almost-Prince. And such an unexpected addition, his own addition being tenuous at best until the wedding and consummation, is something akin to an earthquake insofar as the extended Volturi court is concerned.
His thoughts on the matter are this: Better they be awkwardly nice to him rather than attempt to burn him on sight. It's bad enough that Jane is still sorely tempted.
And any way, this is about Bella's induction into the Volturi, observing a formality that is already established by the pendant nestled against her sternum. Edward is content to be the shadow at her side, a faithful guard always in reach.)
o.o.o
o.o.o
(Edward is not restless anymore.)
A/N: Final part of Auntie Kim's outtake requests. Now, I was going to fulfill the wedding night part, but then I was looking at it and I couldn't think of anything. I did try, but then I didn't want to rehash the scene in such a monotone, so I'm leaving the wedding night with Bella.
With this outtake, the story is officially done.
As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.
~cupcakeriot