Bella MacLeod's Twilight Fanfiction

Still Waters

By SkyDancingHobbit

Chapter 07: A Measure Of Healing

“The world is indeed full of peril and in it there are many dark places. But still there is much that is fair. And though in all lands, love is now mingled with grief, it still grows, perhaps, the greater.”

Tolkien

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Morning found Isabella in surprising good humor.

Awakening she found a rare smile wreathing her features as she stared at the ceiling. Memories of soup and gentle words ringing in her ears from the night before. She felt, content. Not whole yet but the ragged edges of her wounds had begun to heal, for now that was more than enough for her.

Sunlight was streaming in through her balcony the gentle breeze sending the drapes ruffling across the tile floor. It was a beautiful day! For the first time in memory she looked forward to the day, wondered what was for breakfast and in short acted like a normal human should. Showering quickly she surveyed her closet for a lingering moment choosing a black silk tank top and lace over lay of the same color. Pairing this with simple dress pants she looked at herself in the mirror surprised at what she saw. Pale ivory skin and eyes that had witnessed far too much in her scant years. Yet underneath it the crouching darkness had fled. Replaced in their turn with something like hope.

Here she had a future, choices that were her own and no one to answer to beyond the immortals that sheltered her. On impulse she picked up the crumpled remains of the letter and the grisly evidence of the end of her time in Forks as she left the room in search of her meal.

Alice was nothing but a vain self-satisfied harpy who took pleasure in ordering others she viewed lower than herself about. Thinking on events in such a light made a smile tug at her lips. She suspected that in all the Cullen’s life she Isabella had been the first to dare trifle with her.

“Score one for the mortal”

“Oh dear, should I be worried Isabella?”

Aro’s gleeful voice behind her just as she reached the bottom step of the kitchen would normally have just about sent her into heart failure but in her muted state she merely flinched and continued on her way. There was something about this immortal that warned of a Puck like chaos merely lurking beneath the surface and so she waited until her quash and coffee was set before her before answering his inquiry.

“Merely celebrating a moment of private triumph Aro, nothing more exciting than that… I fear I lack and particular talent for plotting or intrigue”

For a moment the ivory features appeared crestfallen as if she had been a teacher scolding him for speaking out of turn and Isabella again felt her face tugging into a half smile as she rose and threw the correspondence into the fire watching intently as they crackled, melted and finally where rendered to black lumps.

“For which we are grateful Cara, I think one plotting individual in this family is enough. Aro?”

Caius choose that moment to join them sniffing the air in what might have been considered a snobbish fashion but Isabella guessed he merely was categorizing the spices in her meal then silently grousing about the offensive scent. Swallowing the last of her slice she was surprised to find another occupying its place as she lowered her fork. Shooting Caius a look of pleased gratification she complied with the silent invitation and polished it off with little effort before snidely raising one brow to the raven haired vampire lord.

“I think so, after all who am I to even think of invading your territory Aro?”

Smiling she rose brushing past him as she went pleased slightly that she had caught him by surprise if his expression was anything to go by. Aro it seemed was not used to backchat. Good it was high time someone rattled up his organized world. As long as she wasn’t rude or offensive Isabella found no reason she shouldn’t continue to irritate him. Was that not after all the duty of every little sister?

Wandering through the halls she was caught by the sound of a male voice raised in song. The sound of a guitar in company. Intrigued she followed it, unsurprised to discover the singer was Marcus. Light and pleasing his voice tugged at her like an old folklore story and without asking permission she lifted a flute from its stand as he began the third verse. The sound haunting and eerie in the ageless setting of the castle but she played for him alone.

“I can still hear your voice on the trade winds, I can still taste your tears on the fog, but the lure of the tides that I’m feeling inside will not rest till my heart finds its home. Now my heart is the heart of the ocean there are storms on the sea of my soul, I’m restless and deep and before I can sleep… I must go where the black waters roll”

He trailed off simply watching her with thoughtful eyes as his fingers continued the warm strum of the cords; the rich sound comforting to them both as Isabella weaves the low and higher pitches of the instrument with his, the sound blending in harmony bringing images of the rolling sea’s and their ship of old to the mind and the quiet cry of the gulls. Here there was peace for her soul and a quiet window of understanding for them both. At last it came to an end and she lifted the flute away from her lips. A slightly sheepish light coming into her eyes as she dropped her gaze.

“Sorry that just happens to be one of my favorite songs Heart of the Ocean by Gaelic Storm?”

“Indeed Mia. Bella, you are forever taking me by surprise. I did not know you played”

“Neither does anyone else… shall we keep it that way?”

What on earth had gotten into her this morning? Isabella wondered she was almost, teasing him! Happily perhaps for her he did not look displeased by this, merely inclining his head gracefully in a motion that would have made any model weep with jealousy.

“As my Lady wishes”

Amazed at his gallantry she was nearly robbed of speech. He only regarded her for a moment before observing quietly as he rose and placed the instruments gently back in their places, lifting her’s away with a touch so gentle it barely registered on her skin. Yet sent a fissure of some unknown emotion chasing down her spine all the same distracting her attention badly from his words as he approached to claim her hand in the courtly greeting.

“You seem… in better spirits this morning Lady Isabella, I am glad of it, too long has winter blanketed your fair cheeks”

“I am thank you My Lord”

The sudden rush of heat from her cheeks was enough to tell her the signs of blushing though she only felt slight stirrings of the emotions behind it. About to flee and seek a quiet location to sort her sudden riled mind when he spoke once more.

“Would you perhaps favor me with your company a little longer Isabella… in the garden? There is something I would share with you”

Without pausing to consider anything beyond the here and now she nodded her assent and together they set off making quite the striking pair as he was garbed in a white shirt and black dress slacks and she in her ensemble. Taking his outstretched hand she exhaled deeply as they left behind the cool stone for the warmth of the Italian sun and the riot of color that awaited them. As they left the shadows and into the glare of the summers warm she couldn’t help turning to watch him. Well remembering the almost painful glitter of another immortals skin. Curiosity and wonder soon reigned as he stood before her.

Dark tresses of hair turned red with their highlights in the light. It was his skin that held her attention. No pained iridescence to be found merely a low shimmer like find dry sand on the beach. He was beautiful; she realized meeting his eyes without speaking a word he withdrew the hand she held and carefully withdrew the glove offering it out again in invitation a gentle smile tugging at his lips as he spoke quietly.

“Sate your curiosity Meus eternus diligo “

It was like being offered the treasure of Midas as she slowly inched toward that hand surprised at the softness that awaited her fingers as at last they met his upturned palm, still cool but beginning to warm in the summer heat. Smooth as fine marble and captivating with its swirling color patterns as she gently tilted it back and forth for a moment. Feeling slightly bolder she looked up in question and he nodded moving to a low bench of fine wood not far away.

Waiting for her.

The realization was humbling. Here was a king, a ruler but with a poet’s soul. Broken and whole, wounded and healing, drowned in loneliness but offering her his heart all the same. She approached him slowly lowering her hand gently to his glistening strands blown asunder by the winds touch. Silk and rich chocolate were the first two words to pop into her head as she gently buried her hand into the strands letting them tumble free as she raised her hand. That was truly the only fashion to describe his hair. How wrong had she been to be fascinated by Edward in that meadow in forks, comparing the two was like finding a comparison between a kitten balancing on the arm of a chair and a Lion in his pride sitting regal and tall overlooking his domain. Lost in her musings she almost missed his words spoken so low and soft it was almost beyond her hearing rang.

“Thank you”

“For what Marcus? You’re the one allowing me to indulge… however improper this might be it is I who should be thanking you”

“No Mia. Bella… I thank you for living… each breath is a gift, for interrupting my world and lastly for this”

He gestured to her current position, apparently she had chosen to allow proper behavior to go to the dogs for the moment. She knew this probably wouldn’t have been allowed in the time he was growing up. Yet the gift did not go unwelcomed as she continued to follow the path of his hair, fingers tracing through the waves from the crown of his hair to their curled ends at the same slow pace she had used before. His eyes had closed and he seemed to be drinking in the contact.

“No one Cara has touched me, intimately or otherwise in nearly a thousand years, since the death of my singer I have not wished it… now you have begun to warm the frozen seas of my heart like the sun does the earth and I cannot go without expressing my gratitude, most shrink or hide from my touch. You seek my company again and again. Isabella… it is that reason I thank you”

His proud shoulder shook slightly under her fingers and Isabella uttered a soft sound. He was weeping. Or as close as his kind was able. Soft sobs wracking the noble form as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and nestled her head into his neck inhaling his scent. Another measure of healing took place that morning in him; released from his grief like a ship suddenly torn from its moorings his tears were of overwhelmed joy rather than sorrow and she rejoiced in them.

It was another step in the right direction.