Posted 2024-04-14; Beta'd by Eeyorefan12

Bella hadn't spent much time with infants, at least not by choice. In her adolescence, infants and toddlers had seemed like little aliens. Now, as she put the clawed and finally sleeping Admetos into his basket, she chuckled, thinking how ironically accurate that perception had been.

She was getting used to Admetos, and he to her. When Mrs. Lykos took her water treatment, Bella volunteered to care for him. It was good practice, after all.

"Little humans need constant care," Bella murmured. One of her mother's truisms. She hadn't shied away from babies. No, if anything, Bella's mother was often the first to volunteer to hold a wailing infant at church.

Bella attached the basket to the long, hooked swing-beam now dangling from their bedroom ceiling. Fixed to a simple mechanism, it could be turned to fix the direction of movement—side to side, front to back, or free moving. Each room was now fitted with one, the heavy pieces of wood retrieved from the attic, cleaned, and freshly waxed. Downstairs in the kitchen, the mount was adjacent to the large lampa who, Esme had assured Bella, could be relied upon to occasionally nudge the beam if it was regularly salinated. She'd demonstrated by washing the top with a mop doused in salt water, and indeed, the lampa had begun to swing the heavy timber back and forth.

Making sure the basket was firmly in place, Bella set it to rock slowly, whispering, "Don't even think about it," to Simeon as he sat hunched nearby, ready for a fresh launch. "It's occupied."

He yowled at her, and she sat and gently rubbed his chin, thinking of her mother, baby-rocking lampas, and Edward, who would be home soon—if he wasn't already.

From the basket came a loud fart and a sigh, little fists and feet briefly appearing as Admetos kicked off the blanket she'd carefully wrapped him in. Unlike their human counterparts, Sabellian infants were far less sensitive to changes in temperature, an attribute Bella hoped she would soon possess.

She watched him squirm a bit more as he settled fully to sleep. It was easy to be with him. Peaceful even. Though much fainter, the nima phenomenon Esme had explained to her still remained; much of what Admetos felt, she and her child did too. She often woke hungry at night now, not certain if it was her or Admetos. But once the Lykos family left, the loss of proximity would put an end to the connection.

There was a slight creak, and she looked up to find Edward peering into their room.

"Hi," she mouthed.

Is he asleep? Edward signed.

Bella nodded.

Moving to sit beside her, Edward wrapped his arm around her, whispering in a perfect imitation of his mother's voice: "They only bite a little at the start."

Bella did her best to muffle her giggles. "Oh my word." She hugged her chest, thinking of the scene in the kitchen the day before, Kira wincing as Esme rubbed her back. Apparently, Admetos's canines had come in early.

"I know. You still can't believe she said that with everyone there. Neither can I."

Bella's giggles turned into silent but chest-heaving waves of laughter. "Don't forget, 'You'll manage'."

Edward smiled, wrapping his arms around her and kissing the top of her head. "We will."

We.

That sent a far more thrilling zing through her nerves.

"We will," she whispered, turning to face him.

But the smile she expected to find on his face wasn't there. Edward regarded her with the kind of serious expression she'd only seen with bad news.

"What is it?"

He smoothed away the expression. "Today's council meeting. They've settled on a plan."

She'd expected that. He'd been going regularly as part of his committee work. "And?" A wave of trepidation rippled through her stomach.

"They'll send a small delegation to bargain in a few days."

"Yes, you told me that." She smoothed down the button lip of his shirt.

There was a beat of silence and she pulled in a breath. Despite her efforts, the lip of fabric refused to stay flat. "Edward?"

"I volunteered to go with them."

The lip popped back into its perpendicular position. She blinked. "Why?"

In the brief beat of silence, fear and doubt produced a myriad of answers that made her stomach sink further.

"Because my presence will add weight to their intentions."

"Everyone's presence will give weight. Why you?" She could hear the tremble in her own voice. It was a risk simply seeking the raiders out.

"Because of you."

Me?

"You've seen how the weak-blooded are treated, Bella."

She nodded slowly.

"My family is old, landed, and Sabellian-looking enough to make my marrying you notable—either as a scandal or a sign of principles. For the Kaethe, it will be the latter, I hope." He looked down. "Truthfully, Bella, there is little else I can do to protect you and my family. I was one of the few willing. Every day more voices call for more violent intervention."

She'd known the council would have to send emissaries, but she'd never thought it would be Edward.

Not that his volunteering surprised her. He was noble.

To a fucking fault.

If she asked him not to go . . . quickly, she decided against it. No, it wouldn't be fair, even though she wanted to.

"How many of you will go?"

He named five council members, Mr. Othonos included. There'd also been one other volunteer.

"Stolos?" She blinked, thinking of his awkward demeanor. "Didn't he say he was a terrible shot and rider?"

"Nearly exactly that"— Edward smiled wanly—"but he volunteered first."

Bella revised her opinion of Stolos.

"We all need peace, and we don't need shooters for that. The riding, well, I suppose we'll need to be sure we don't have to leave quickly."

"It'll be dangerous," she whispered. It would.

"And I will do everything I can to be safe, Bella. I have every reason to return with a peaceful resolution."

Fear rose in her throat. "I know." Tears came next, which she tried to swipe away. "I'm sorry."

She locked her arms around him as he did the same with his, a desperate clutching that spoke of equal parts hope and fear.

— o — 0 — o —

Bella struggled to ignore the lump in her throat, instead trying to memorize and hold onto Edward's movements as he tightened the girth of the dragon's saddle. The long black creature gave a quiet hiss and flicked its tale, earning a few heavy pats from Edward. "We'll be gone soon enough," he muttered to the animal, who dropped to its stomach with a heavy sigh.

Edward chuckled. "I may not make it past the fence with this one."

Bella smiled half-heartedly, nodding.

"I'll be back in a few days."

She hoped so. Another nod. The lump persisted.

Edward hooked a bag onto the saddle. Behind it, other goods were already secured—food, gifts, extra clothing, and Edward's hunting rifle. They didn't expect to hunt, but it would be unwise to ride into the mountains unarmed. Even though the bear-like kudoveste were hibernating, other predators took advantage of their temporary place on top of the food chain.

Besides, predators of the animal kind were not Bella's primary worry. She'd heard enough of what the desperate Kaethe could do. She focused instead on the dragon's harness. The bridle was straightforward enough, but the bright blue string running from the browband was new.

"For emergencies only," Edward said, noticing her focus.

"Maybe we're not talking about the same thing."

Edward chuckled, putting his finger on the blue string. "Definitely for emergencies. It's glyka juice."

"The string turns everyone blue?" She envisaged kilted highland warriors, laughing despite herself.

"Well I'd show you, but I rather like you un-burnt. There's a vial just here."

Bella stood up on her tip-toes. Almost out of sight near the dragon's neck frill was a flat, liquid-filled glass square. Flush against the scales, it was almost invisible.

"If you pull here, the glass breaks, making a tiny cut, and the liquid directly enters her bloodstream. She can be aflame in seconds. Very useful, in some circumstances. All I'd have to do is make her angry." He mimed bringing a fist down on the snout, flicking his hand outward in the direction of the theoretical flame.

Bella stared at him.

"Not that I expect to need it. I was only . . . showing you."

"Just . . . in case," she offered.

"As I said. We do arm them whenever we patrol with them. This is not irregular." He closed his mouth, looking chagrined.

"Of course."

Edward gave the dragon a last pat on the neck. "I'll meet you outside. We can ride back to the house together."

She eyed the creature a little nervously but left the barn and waited for him by the entrance.

Edward led the dragon out, or tried to. It flung its head back as he tugged on the reins.

"Demia, come." He scratched at her neck, and she growled but complied.

"Demia?" Bella asked, as they came closer. The dragon moved smoothly, despite being weighed down with cargo.

"Well, her name is Epidemia. I thought a diminutive was kinder."

Bella could imagine. "Who decided to name her pestilence?"

"Jasper, of course—come." He waved her over to stand between him and the dragon. "You hold here, and put your foot here. This"—he patted one of several flapping pieces of leather—"you buckle in place."

"Even to just walk to the house?"

"Yes. You never mount a dragon without securing yourself."

"Seat belts save lives. Got it."

Edward ignored her muttering, steadying her hips as she seated herself. Demia gave a low groan.

"Well, aren't you good for my self-esteem." Bella patted the dragon's neck nervously, hoping the creature wasn't annoyed. She recalled too easily the image of it and Edward wrestling as he dodged the tongues of flame licking at his legs. Then again, Demia wasn't full of glyko juice now.

"I won't say she isn't mercurial, but she knows we care for her, so she won't ever hurt one of us. Others, though, well—I wouldn't suggest inviting a friend to ride her."

Worried as she was about Edward leaving, Bella smiled, trying to picture such a scene as she secured the straps around her legs, resettling her dress overtop. "Yep, just me and the girls, going joyriding."

Edward finished tightening the last of the cargo, a broad grin making his eyes crinkle. "Riding with joy? That sounds . . . fun. My mother would like that."

She smiled at his misunderstanding the idiom she'd used, but about Esme—surely he was joking? "Cute."

He shook his head and mounted, sitting behind her, securing the straps in seconds. "My mother used to race them at Vloray."

Awkwardly, Bella turned to look at him. "You're joking."

He shook his head. "She was very young then, before the women's movement. There are no races anymore, but I believe she still occasionally rides–or would, if she had the time. Dragons are very fast and, therefore, very valuable. It's why Mrs. Hatzis was so angry when we kept this one."

Their playful banter had briefly suspended the worst of her worries, but at Edward's mention of the dead woman's name, they came rushing back. There were no guarantees of safety with what Edward was doing, and no amount of logical reassurance she tried to offer herself could banish the fear twisting her gut into knots.

She nodded, looking forward towards the distant house, wishing it would stay small, wishing she could just enjoy a ride with Edward. But the house grew steadily in size, and in a few minutes, they reached the tree-dotted front yard where the family had gathered to make their farewells.

Edward dismounted, helping Bella to do the same.

Jasper clapped his hand to Edward's. "Truly, I hope it goes well. Be cautious. Don't buy more trouble than we can afford."

"I'd never have considered that but now that you mention it . . ." Edward lifted an eyebrow and smiled.

Jasper glowered, beginning to pull away.

Edward tugged him back. "I will be cautious. I ask that you be kind." He looked at Bella and Jasper followed his gaze.

"As I have been."

Bella held back her snort of laughter. He hadn't been mean, true, but kind? That was a different question.

"It will give me peace to know you will be exceptionally so."

"I will, Brother." Jasper sounded sincere.

Bella waited until everyone but Esme had left, but when she tried to wave Esme forward, her mother-in-law shook her head.

"She'll be the last and will offer me a blessing," Edward said.

Bella stepped forward, wishing they were in private, wishing she were better at pretending. Her voice felt tight. "A week?"

"About that." Edward rubbed his finger down her arm before surprising her and laying a gentle hand on her abdomen. It was an action he'd only ever taken in the privacy of their room. "Hopefully this one won't give you any trouble while I'm gone."

She smoothed down the fabric of his jacket. It was permissible for them to kiss, but anything more would be an impropriety. She was determined not to show how nervous and afraid she was. "We'll both be waiting for you when you return. I know you'll do well. Be safe, okay?"

With their chaste kiss, tears threatened and she pulled away, walking back to the stairs.

Esme's voice was clear and almost musical as she uttered her blessing, one hand resting on Edward's bowed head. The words were lost on Bella, too focused on not crying. Her fears for Edward were not irrational, but her emotions felt like they rested on a hair trigger—and there were more than enough triggers for her many fears and anxieties.

She waved as he left, turning away as quickly as was polite, returning to the house and their room where she finally let lose her feelings, burying her face in Simeon's fur and crying until the tears passed.

The days moved by slowly. Bella tried to stay busy, but her constant thoughts of her husband kept her distracted, causing her to leave household chores half-finished. She missed Edward with an almost physical ache. The house was full of memories of him, the most powerful associated with their room where she guiltily slept in their comfortable bed, knowing he rested in far rougher circumstances. She shivered, thinking of the lowering temperatures and mercurial weather. At least he wouldn't be so troubled by the cold.

There was lots to keep her busy. A few days after seeing Edward off, they did the same with the Lykos family, and then again with Rose and Emmett. As she watched Emmett and Rose drive away, her tears didn't wait for privacy.

"He'll be back soon enough." Esme wrapped her arm around Bella's shoulders as they walked back into the house.

"I know, and I'm sorry to be such a mess."

"Oh, you're hardly a mess." Esme said consolingly. "I said goodbye to my husband and he . . . never returned. When my son announced that he would be making the same trip, I was under a spell for weeks." She gave Bella a squeeze. "But Edward did return—and I fully expect him to do so again. It is better to trust than worry."

With a pang, Bella thought of how hard that must have been for Esme, first losing Carlisle and then waiting four years to see Edward again. And here she was, sulking with only a few days between them. She sucked in a breath and nodded. "I'll go help Alice organize dinner."

An hour later, she was upstairs folding clothes into a canvas bag when loud, thudding hooves announced the arrival of an alogo—one moving at speed.

When she came down the stairs, she caught a glimpse of Mr. Hatzisa dashing down the porch steps as Esme closed the door.

"Esme?"

Her mother-in-law stared after Mr. Hatzisa through the front door sidelight.

Bella thought of the last time Mr. Hatzisa had come with urgent news. It hadn't been good. "Is something wrong with Mr. Hatzis?"

Esme continued to stare. "No. Mr. Hatzis is fine. It's—they've taken Edward hostage."