Author's Note: No explanations, just a new chapter. Enjoy.


- Chapter 20: Dies Irae -

Something was tickling my cheek.

A lock of wet hair, maybe, blown by a chill wind.

The pillar that bore me up was no warmer. Still, I was grateful for its sturdy presence.

"Oh, you reckless, stubborn, brave girl." There was the beloved voice, its timbre vibrating all along my side, almost as though it was in my very bones. "Why couldn't you have stayed where you were safe?"

Whatever remained of my consciousness was relieved to find that whether I was in heaven, hell, or some other place altogether, Edward was with me. Though it seemed unfair that death should hurt so very much.

"You're not dead," came the murmured reply, cool lips ghosting over my temple in the barest hint of a kiss.

"Yet," an unfamiliar male voice chimed in.

The arms that cradled me close tightened slightly. Ah, so he was carrying me to the afterlife. This was far different from how I had imagined it would be, but I had no complaints. Aside from the throbbing pain in my ankle, that was.

My eyelids sprang open at the stunning realization that I still had a body.

And there he was, his perfect jaw tense above me, eyes dark and fierce.

"Edward." My voice was barely a whisper, but my heart pounded so loudly in my ears that I thought it must be deafening to him.

"Shhh," he commanded me softly.

I could only gape at him, my mind entirely unable to sort the burgeoning swirl of questions into coherency.

He was here. Holding me.

I turned my face into his chest, inhaling his scent deeply. A hoarse sob escaped me, but no tears came.

Edward. He had found me.

He adjusted his hold on me to bring my torso more flush with his, fingers sliding up to twine in the hair at my nape soothingly. Instinctively, my arms encircled his neck in return.

"Rest, if you can," Edward murmured. "We'll be there soon enough."

Be where? I wanted to ask. But the safety of his arms was all too potent after the terror and exhaustion of my escape from Antoinette, the velvet cloak he'd wrapped me in too warm and soft, the gentle rock of his graceful strides too soothing as we glided through the woods.

I pressed my cheek more firmly against him and closed my eyes again.

I don't think I dozed—but nor was I fully conscious. I lolled in some netherworld, content just to know that Edward was with me once more. Even the pain of my ankle and the many cuts and bruises seemed inconsequential in comparison.

Time passed. No words were exchanged. The other male presence who had spoken before was no more than a parallel force, whipping through the trees somewhere over Edward's shoulder. Nothing mattered save the arms that gently cradled me, the silent chest that bolstered my weary head.

The deceleration was sudden enough to draw me out of my daze.

I forced myself to lift my eyelids and turn my stiff neck to see where my savior had delivered me.

A meadow, dotted with spring wildflowers, and gently sloping toward a shockingly blue lake that glittered in the anemic afternoon sun breaking through the light cloudcover. Along the water, modern-looking lodge of stone and timber.

And just in front of the house, a loose half-circle of black-robed figures, stock-still but for the breeze that lifted their hair and cloaks.

A visceral shock of fear stopped my heart when I saw Antoinette at their edge, stiller than I'd ever seen her. One corner of her lips ticked up in triumph at the sight of me, but she made no move.

"Wonderful timing!" The male in the middle of the group stepped forward, beaming, his hands extended toward us. "I just finished with your remarkable sister."

He glanced briefly over his shoulder, to where Jasper was holding Alice on the porch of the grand lodge, flanked by Carlisle and Emmett. Esme, Rose, and Nessie were nowhere to be seen.

"Really, Carlisle, you've been holding out on me." The black-robed male's tone was light and his smile held, but something behind his eyes sharpened.

"Aro," Edward said tightly, and I had the feeling it was more for my benefit than a greeting.

My eyes widened at the realization of just whom I beheld. The leader of the Volturi was not particularly tall, nor was he handsome in the way the Cullens all were. But there was something about him that compelled the eye to follow him.

"She was just where the seer said she'd be." The deep male voice to Edward's left called my attention—another Volturi member, I deduced.

This one was tall, taller even than Edward by a bit, with a dark, Mediterranean look about him. A hint of a smile played at one corner of his elegant mouth as he glanced down at me with those wine-deep eyes.

I shuddered and reflexively tucked my head into the crook of Edward's shoulder in a vain attempt to shield myself from his gaze.

"And tell me, Demetri," Aro called, "can you sense her? Or does the girl stymie your great power as well?"

The tracker, I remembered.

"Nothing." The barest hint of chagrin colored Demetri's dignified voice, as though the oddities of my mind caused him personal affront.

Aro, however, looked positively delighted.

"Fascinating," he murmured, tapping his steepled fingers against his lips as he regarded me.

Recklessly, I met his gaze with defiance, raising my chin. I was finished cowering; if he wanted to kill me, I wished he'd just get on with it.

"Ah, but I've been unforgivably rude," Aro said suddenly. "You must be terribly uncomfortable. Come, sit while we talk."

Edward's arms clamped down around me.

"Now, now, Edward," Aro admonished. "I'm not going to throw her to the wolves just yet, so to speak."

The hungry glint in his blood-red eyes made me quake, but I knew I wouldn't get the luxury of refusing him.

"It's all right," I said quietly to Edward. What choice did we really have?

Aro led us to a bench tucked among the plants that encircled the lodge, making a sweeping gesture of invitation to the seat.

"Please." His tone was polite, solicitous. But his greedy gaze belied the request.

Edward set me on the bench ever-so-gently, taking care not to bump my injured ankle against the ground. Even so, I felt the tension rolling off him in waves.

Aro stepped closer, crowding Edward back to my shoulder. He loomed over me, searching my countenance for…something.

Thoroughly discomfited, I looked to Edward for reassurance. His face was blank, but I saw the storm of fear and fury in his eyes.

"Forgive me," Aro said, though I could not be sure whether he spoke to me or to Edward. "I simply must see for myself." Slowly, trepidatiously, he reached for my hand.

The strain in the meadow's crisp mountain air was oppressive; I could feel the Volturi and the Cullens all leaning in. My own lungs contracted, my pulse roaring as he took my fingers in his cool, chalky palm—

And then, nothing.

Aro laughed, and the collective breath released.

"Remarkable!" he cried in delight, straightening. "Remarkable." But as he patted my hand, I caught a dangerous flash in his face. "Entirely silent, as she is for you, Edward."

A curious expression passed over Aro's face, and he sent an estimating glance in the direction of a petite, angelic girl with blonde hair among the cloaked figures standing sentinel.

"No!"

It happened faster than my eyes could follow—suddenly, Edward was in the grasp of a massive male on the other side of the clearing, and Aro had stepped back from me, flanked by Demetri, the blonde girl, and a young boy with a face that matched hers so closely that they must be twins.

Aro waved an elegant finger in Edward's direction. "Temper," he chided. "It was merely a passing thought."

Edward strained against the vampire's hold, snarling.

Carlisle's mild voice cut in from behind me, at the stairs of the porch. "Aro, my old friend." He had an arm out to block an eager-looking Emmett from leaping to Edward's assistance—clearly trying to keep the situation from devolving. Behind them, Jasper held a tense-looking Alice protectively. "Edward has brought you Bella, as you commanded. Might I suggest you move forward with your…assessment?"

I began to feel faint—so this was my trial, after all? And Carlisle was urging it on?

"Ever the peacemaker," Aro said with something like affection. "But yes, you're right. We have spent far too much time indulging my curiosity." His gaze slipped over me, cold as ice along my skin.

"But while I can empathize with the temptation to unravel the mysteries of this fascinating creature," he continued, "I remain deeply disappointed in you, Edward. You have been careless with our secret."

"I was not the one who first revealed it," Edward said. His voice was controlled, but he couldn't hide the hint of bite in his tone.

"No, I suppose not." Aro's glance flickered to Antoinette, considering. But he seemed to straighten himself, then returned his attention to me. "Regardless," he continued, "she simply knows to much to live on."

The wordless howl of rage and pain from Edward cut me to the marrow, but the guard had him utterly pinned. In the same instant, Carlisle and Emmett leapt forward as though to protect me—but they suddenly dropped, bodies contorting.

"Thank you, Jane," Aro said to the young blonde girl politely. "That's enough."

Jane, who had been smiling in a way that made my skin crawl, looked away from the Cullens to blink at Aro.

"Please," Edward hissed in a low, pleading tone I'd never head from him before. "Please. Let her go, and I'll return to the Guard."

I gasped a wordless denial, just as Antoinette made a sound of triumph.

"Such melodrama! Surely you know I'm not going to kill the girl," Aro chuckled. "All that power…I would not squander such a talent."

For a moment, only the smallest fraction of a second imaginable, I felt a stirring of hope. He would turn me, to save my abilities? I could be with Edward for eternity.

An unearthly scream. A crimson abyss before my eye. Pressure gripping either side of my jaw hard enough to break bone.

And then an earsplitting crack.

I heard, saw, felt no more.

- o - o - o -

Chaos. Pure chaos. This was what the existence saw from her vantage point above.

But in this state of matter, she could take it all in. Examine it from every angle. A Watcher. What a luxury, she thought with an amused inner smile.

The little dark-haired one—The Watcher knew her, felt connection, though couldn't say why—reacted faster than any. She leapt to the aid of the broken shell before the deed was even done, knocking the taller, tangled fearsome one away with a strength that surprised the Watcher. The little dark-haired one called out, "Carlisle!"

The blond male was right behind her.

He laid the broken shell on the ground with extreme tenderness. The head with the sightless eyes sat at an unnatural angle that made the Watcher shiver.

Can a vague existence shiver? The Watcher supposed it didn't matter.

Even as she saw the small one and this Carlisle tend to the shell, the Watcher took in the sight of the cloaked judge leaping upon the tangled, fearsome one.

The Watcher would not have thought he would handle such things himself, but she supposed she didn't know much of his kind. The cloaked judge ripped off the head of the fearsome one, tossing it aside. The long, dark hair was black blood against the delicate green and white of spring wildflowers.

"Felix," the judge said, and the fearsome one's body was taken away.

Ah. Now the Watcher could take in the Beloved.

Released from the grasp the mountainous male that collected the fearsome one for disposal, the Beloved was beside the shell in an instant. He was bronze, broken, anguished. His hand clutched at the shell's hand, and he howled.

"Carlisle!"

The blond male was pressing the shell's chest in a rhythm. The little dark one grasped the Beloved's shoulder, staring desperately into his eyes in a way that tickled some echo of a memory in the Watcher's awareness.

"Seconds only," Carlisle murmured to the Beloved, pulling his hands from the shell and leaning back.

The Beloved cursed foully, then swooped down over the shell's failing heart. The Watcher thrilled as he swept aside the cloak that covered the shell's modesty, opened his perfect mouth, and bit down.

The black-robed judge stood over the tableau, expression vaguely regretful. The Watcher distrusted it.

"My sincerest apologies, Edward," the judge said formally. "That was very rude of her."

The Beloved—Edward! The Watcher's every particle sang with the knowledge—made a feral sound, but he did not move his mouth away from the shell's breast.

"What a terrible waste," the judge lamented. "Though at least now you can drink of her without remorse."

This made Beloved Edward angry enough to release his bite. His sweet lips were stained red with cooling blood. "She's not dying!" he roared his fury. "Carlisle, please—"

The blond male resumed his rhythmic pushing above the shell's ribs. Beloved Edward bent down again, and again, and again, biting every inch of shell's skin he could reach.

The Watcher felt herself dissolving. She was sad she would not be able to see Beloved Edward any longer, to watch him move and hear his beautiful voice.

But alas.

It was time to go.

- o - o - o -

It felt rather like the plunge into the icy cold creek.

One moment, I was nowhere. Then suddenly, my entire existence was plunged back into the world.

A tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump. A rhythm older than time.

I still could not feel, could not move, could not speak.

But above me, gripping me, anchoring me to the world that threatened to tilt me off the side…

The sight of molten gold.


Author's Note: Uh. Hey. Long time no see.

Footnotes:

Dies Irae is Latin for Day of Wrath, also translated as Judgment Day or Day of Reckoning. It's also a liturgy sequence in the Roman Catholic Requiem mass, and shows up in lots and lots of musical settings, including Mozart and Verdi's Requiem.

Internal decapitation (complete spinal cord severance) doesn't kill instantly but it does stop the brain sending signals to the lungs and heart, so you prolly get a minute or so til the heart stops beating and lack of oxygen causes brain death. So you gotta be fast if you wanna get all that venom into someone's system. ;)