A Fairytale's Ending
Edward once told Bella that his human memories faded over time; that his human instincts were there, but buried deep... Chicago. 1918. Edward Masen is a young, naive seventeen-year-old; his thoughts focusing only on his impending enlistment in the army, and his infatuation with Rosaline Daniels. Then, on a chance meeting, he falls in love with Ada Harper...a head-strong outcast who wants nothing more then her freedom. In the tradition of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, and set against the backdrop of WWI, this is the story of two people. One forgotten...the other re-born.
Hey! This is my latest "epic" fanfiction undertaking, and I have big plans for it. However, if you're a strong Edward/Bella lover, or hate anything non-cannon...this story has no Bella (kind of) and goes against Stephenie's "written" cannon. Although she never mentioned anything about this... ;) So, without further ado, here it is! Enjoy! I own nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing! Except the characters of Ada and her family. Let us all take a moment to appreciate Stephenie's sheer genius...again. :) © Edward’s Rose 2008
1. Chapter 1: Outcasts
Rating 5/5 Word Count 1644 Review this Chapter
A Fairytale’s Ending
By Edward’s Rose
Amen, amen! But come what sorrow can,
It cannot countervail the exchange of joy
That one short minute gives me in her sight.
Do thou but close our hands with holy words,
Then love-devouring death do what he dare;
It is enough I may but call her mine.
~ Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene VI
“I’m not used to feeling so human. Is it always like this?”
“You are the most important thing to me now. The most important thing to me ever.”
“I have human instincts-they may be buried deep, but they’re there.”
“And for you?”
CHAPTER ONE: OUTCAST
I watched the sun rise over Chicago, its rays striking in vivid contrast against the stark buildings. The curtains leading onto the balcony swayed gently in the breeze, whispering softly in my ear. I put a hand against the doorframe, taking a deep breath. There was a different scent to the air…hinting of the unknown. Of course not even the most beautiful sight could touch my heart. It all belonged to Rosaline Daniels, Chicago’s brightest jewel…
A scowl crept across my face as I thought of Rosaline. With her dark, chestnut locks and sparkling, grey eyes. Her taunts still burned fresh in my mind, an imprint I could not remove:“Why, Edward Masen! It’s a good thing you have your looks…because charm is something you are sorely lacking.”
I rubbed my temples in frustration, staring intently at one of my mother’s plants. Her stinging words had only made my adoration increase. Strange. With a soft sigh, I turned away from the window, drifting through the parlor. My father stood near the door, fumbling with some papers in his briefcase.
He looked up at my footsteps. “Good morning, Edward. You’re up early.”
“Mmmm,” I agreed absentmindedly, examining a vase.
Father sighed. “A complete answer would’ve been nice,” he mumbled. I pretended as if I didn’t hear him.
He said goodbye and walked briskly towards the front door, where Mother was waiting. I sank into a chair, imagining all the ways I could win a kiss from Rosaline… My parents’ hushed voices carried down the hall, and I listened detachedly:
“Elizabeth, what are we going to do with him?”
“I’m worried about him,” Mother said softly, concern laced in her words.
“Hmm. All that boy’s been doing is moping around for weeks! For God’s sake…!”
“Shh…he could hear you!”
Their voices faded as they walked outside a-ways, and I gently plucked a flower from a vase. I began tearing its petals off one-by-one, feeling like a lovesick schoolboy. Even though that was the closest thing you could compare me to…
“Edward?” Mother called, closing the door with a soft snap.
“Here,” I answered.
She glided swiftly into the room, with a natural and dainty grace. Settling into the chair opposite mine, a soft smile brushed across her face.
“Have my flowers offended you in some way, darling?” she teased, gently taking the broken stem from my fingers.
I didn’t respond.
“Edward, I wanted to discuss something with you.”
“There is going to be a ball tonight…hosted by the Andersons.”
An angry sigh blew from my lips as I stood up. “No, Mother. Not a ball!”
“Edward, your father and I are worried. All you’ve been doing is sulking around the house for days! You haven’t even touched the piano…”
“I’m fine!” I snapped, irritation flaring in my chest.
Mother regarded me levelly with her slanting, green eyes. “This is not a request, Edward.”
“Balls hold no interest for me at the moment,” I said indifferently, trying to control my voice.
“You might actually end up enjoying yourself! Why, the Rushes will be there…along with the Roberts. The Daniels, too…”
My head snapped up. “Did you say the Daniels?”
Mother gave an encouraging smile. “Yes, I did.”
Rosaline! I could dance with her, court her! A slow smile spread unconsciously over my face, a dark cloud seemingly lifted from my chest.
“So you will come?” Mother asked slowly.
I looked her straight in the eyes. “Yes, I’ll come.”
“Miss Ada!” a voice called.
I felt the blankets being pulled back, the curtains thrown wide. A small groan escaped from my mouth as I rolled over, trying to recapture the dream I’d just had. Sunlight flooded through my aching eyelids, banishing all traces of sleep with their golden rays.
“Ada, time to greet the day!” the voice said again.
I opened my eyes a crack, staring into Nurse’s old, wizened face.
“Must I?” I mumbled.
“Ada!” she scolded. “Your mother would like a word with you! And you and I both know it’s not good to keep her waiting.”
I thought of my mother and her cheerless, pallid face. Sometimes I felt like an alien…born into the wrong family, in the wrong time.
“Come on,” Nurse prodded, gently pulling me from the warmth of my bed.
I dragged a hand across my eyes, looking longingly towards the French doors which led out onto my balcony.
“Ada, she’s waiting,” Nurse warned.
With a sigh, I began getting ready for the day…feeling the familiar chains of my life slip back into place.
I sat rigidly next to my mother on the sofa, sipping scalding tea from china cups. If Mother had noticed the bitterness of the liquid, she didn’t indicate so.
With one of her small sighs, she set the cup down and looked towards me. “Ada,” she said heavily, scanning my face.
The corners of her mouth turned down in disapproval. “Do you remember the plans we had tonight?”
I wracked my brains, desperately searching for the answer she wanted. “We were going to-to…”
She sighed, waving my mumbling off with her hand. “Honestly, I don’t know what to do with you, Ada. We are to attend the ball hosted by the Andersons, remember?”
“Ahh…yes,” I said quickly, hoping my words sounded convincing.
She ignored me. “Paris Travers will be there.” Mother regarded me fiercely, searching for the effect her words had on me.
“That’s…nice. He’s a wonderful young man,” I offered.
She sighed again. “Ada, Paris seems to have taken a fancy to you. Your father and I were hoping that maybe…someday, you could be married.”
“Married?!” I exclaimed, nearly dropping my cup of tea.
“Oh, don’t act so surprised,” Mother reprimanded, “it is normal for girls…”
“But I’m barely seventeen…!”
“Ada, a young lady never raises her voice!”
Decorum was the last thing on my mind. “Excuse me, Mother,” I mumbled, making a mad dash for the staircase.
I ignored her calls, thinking only of the sanctuary which was my room. Sharply, I opened the door and rushed towards my vanity table…sinking down onto the cushioned stool. My fingers shook as I laced them together, resting my forehead against them. I managed to look up at my reflection, and tried to push all thoughts of Paris from my mind.
I was not going to be forced into a loveless marriage for the rest of my life. My life’s plan was being set, but I was determined to alter its course.
I stood by a pillar in the Andersons’ cavernous ballroom. This was absolute…tedium. My eyes swept darkly over the brilliant-colored dancers, sashaying across the floor as if they didn’t have a care in the world. As if the country was not teetering on the brink of war. As if there weren’t people suffering in this very room.
Mother shot me an encouraging smile from across the room…the smile slipping as she noted my expression. “Please,” she mouthed.
I managed a tight smile, skirting the dancers as if I were pariah. Across the room, I spotted Rosaline, chatting amiably with a small group of friends. My stomach clenched as her diamond earrings caught in the light; something like nausea possessing me as her dark curls spun effortlessly with a toss of her head.
Clenching my fists, I took a deep breath and started wading through the crowd…towards Rosaline. At that exact moment, something happened. My eyes unconsciously were drawn to the large, gilded staircase…which a slight figure was descending.
Shards of sunlight seemed to blur my vision, and I took a small step forwards…suddenly longing for a glimpse of the figure’s face. As if answering a prayer, a small, white face turned in my direction. Tendrils of golden hair escaped their elegant bun, so they rested haphazardly against her cheeks. Her cornflower-blue eyes raked over the room, as if she were reading its inhabitants' very souls.
And then those eyes, which seemed to glisten with an intuitive spark, settled on me.