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Our Revels Now Are Ended

"You have the choice I didn't have, and you're choosing wrong!" Edward said nothing, but the sudden cease of music in the room told Rosalie that she was right.

Written for my twilightprompts prompt Mist over on LJ. Thanks to jena_elizabeth for the beta. Title from "The Tempest" by Mr. William Shakespeare. First few lines taken directly from "Eclipse."

1. Our Revels Now Are Ended

Rating 5/5   Word Count 790   Review this Chapter

“Don’t you see, Bella? You already have everything. You have a whole life ahead of you — everything I want. And you’re going to just throw it away. Can’t you see that I’d trade everything I have to be you? You have the choice that I didn’t have, and you’re choosing wrong!

The moon shone through the wall of glass, the thick fog causing the light to cast eerie shadows along the walls, but Rosalie wasn’t paying much attention.

The conversation she’d just had was on instant replay in her mind.

She understood why Bella was making the choice to become a vampire, deep down in places she would not acknowledge existed aloud. Her love for Edward was strong, their bond unbreakable. She wanted that love to last forever, damn the consequences.

Rosalie laughed bitterly at her choice of words. Damn the consequences, indeed.

A hand on her shoulder was the only warning she had before Emmett wrapped his arms around her, kissed her hair, and told her he loved her.

Rosalie could only nod and hold his arms around her waist even tighter than before. As if he might fade away if she didn’t hold on tight enough.


Part of her was hoping Bella would choose Jacob.

She would never admit this out loud, of course, especially since a larger part of her – the one whose nose wrinkled in distaste every time the dogs came within a fifty foot radius – told her that werewolves were no less dangerous for the troublesome human girl than vampires.

Yet that smaller part of her – the one that held onto her humanity with an ironclad grip and would never let go – hoped and prayed that Bella would one day open her eyes and see what was right in front of her.

The future she would have – an eternity of night, a constant burning in her throat and a craving for blood; and the future she was giving up – black haired children running about in the sun.


Bella’s screams echoed through the house and Emmett winced in sympathy. Rosalie could hear his and Alice’s quiet murmurs from the doorway, but she did not move from her spot in front of the windows.

With each scream, each whimper, each cry of Edward’s name, Rosalie’s shoulder’s tightened further until she was nothing but one large bundle of knots.

When she silently edged her way out of the room, down the stairs, and out the front door, no one questioned her. Even Emmett knew she simply needed her space.

The wind whipped through her hair as she raced through the trees and a heavy mist hung in the air, clinging to her skin. She could hear Bella’s screams echoing in her ears for miles.

When she returned three days later to the sight of a white skinned, red eyed Bella standing on the front porch, Rosalie swore she could hear a wolf howling his grief in the distance.

She was sure that she felt a piece of her dead heart shatter.


Bella’s temper as a human was like a firecracker – easy to ignite, but also quick to burn out.

Bella’s temper as a vampire was more like a tempest – slow to begin, harder to control, and most violent in the final moments.

Most of the arguments were Edward’s fault – over where and when she could hunt, over why she couldn’t leave the house. Over any number of small and petty things that would always leave Edward frustrated and Bella ashamed of herself.

Edward took his own anger out on his piano, and Rosalie perched herself against the side, both eyes and mind kept carefully blank, as Edward swore - yet again - that he didn’t regret changing Bella, not even for a moment.

One stray thought slipped through the cracks.

Methinks he doth protest too much.

Edward said nothing, but the sudden cease of music in the room told Rosalie that she was right.

I told you so.


When Rosalie found Bella, she was staring out at the river, knees pulled up tightly to her chest, trembling from head to toe. Her scent was dampened both by the thick fog hanging in the air and something much sweeter and more pungent. She’d been gone for days and Edward had been frantic – he hadn’t been able to find her.

Rosalie was sure she knew why Bella hadn’t come home, but as soon as the thought crossed her mind, Edward had glared viciously and sworn that Alice would have foreseen something like that. Alice nodded in agreement, although the look in her eyes was unsure.

The smell of human blood reached her before the bright red stains on Bella’s clothes caught her eye, and she sighed.

Contrary to popular belief, Rosalie did not relish being right this time.