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A Cure for a Tragedy

Everyone knew who he was, the Night's Guardian Jasper Hale, quiet and dangerous. No one knew who she was but Jasper wanted to know. In a world where vampires known are feared, the people rely on a protector but who will protect him?

This is an AU story using the Twilight characters and their likeness.

1. Golden Behind Crystal

Rating 0/5   Word Count 1545   Review this Chapter

31 October 709

"Happy Birthday!"

The masked crowd screamed it in unison, their voices high and joyful, some even wavering a little with the alcohol. They screamed an incoherent mix of cheers as the doors closed behind the young man. For most this was the first time seeing him in person, yet everyone knew who he was. He was the Night's Guardian, Jasper Hale. Prince Hale – ironic?

The men eyed him suspiciously and enviously while the women took him in greedily, hungrily. He was young, twenty- one, rich, and eligible. It didn't hurt that he was handsome either. Tall and lean, his muscles could even be seen through the tightly fitted black tuxedo. His eyes were bright green beneath his curly blond hair and glared through the crowd dangerously. He was a strong man, a wealthy man. What every woman wanted.

Too bad there were no women there he wanted. He stepped into the crowd, face emotionless, eyes bored, and his lips firmly pressed into silence. They all clapped his arrival, screamed their congratulations, slapped his back, and (the women) winked at him. He rolled his eyes at their false smiles, their fake congratulations- as if he had done something defying. Living twenty-one years, how stunning.

He made his way to the largest table where his father awaited him. His bright blue eyes were smiling in happiness. His blond hair slicked back as always. Next to him stood his mother, her long amber hair flowing around her in soft waves, and smiling with the same green eyes Jasper had. In her arms was his only sister, her bi colored eyes always made him smile, even today- a rare feat. Her left eye was swimming blue and her right eye a stunning green. A little bit of each of her parents was shinning through her eyes.

"Welcome son," his father, Carlisle, beamed in satisfaction of the man his son had become.

His voice was loud, booming for everyone to hear, but then it became a whisper, "Do you feel any different my son?"

"Yes," he scoffed. "I was feeling happy, but now I'm feeling something entirely different."

Esme, his mother, laughed her bell laughter and his seven-year-old sister giggled in unison in adoration of her mother's laughter. Jasper smirked for their amusement and took his seat at the table.

"I told you they would love the Masquerade theme," Esme took her seat next to her son.

"Where is your mask," he asked her, rolling his eyes as the crowd looked up to Carlisle for his speech.

His father began to speak, the same speech he had heard all his life. Today was an important day . . . a new guard would step up to protect . . . blah . . . blah. Jasper had it memorized, so he didn't feel guilty when he tuned it out and examined the crowd before him.

The women wore elegant ball gowns, some puffy, some body tight with long slits in the side for the men's eyes. Their masks were elegant, designer, none hand made. He recognized most of the handy work, Esme was best friends with ALL the designers after all and Esme was his mother, but there was one mask that stood out.

It was simple in the fact that it was not made from platinum, or gold, nor was it encrusted with expensive gems or diamonds. Yet the design and simplicity made it elegant, amazing in every way. It was made of glass, or crystal, he could not be sure, but either way it caught the light from the chandelier and glowed golden with it's golden rays. Its edges angled upward and tapered off, each time getting longer, curving into what looked like wings, until two long strands reached to the highest points. Below it four more curves made a heart's top curve before ending at the eyes tops. The nosepiece started gold and simply faded into purple to blue, and lead its way outward to her eyes.

They were bright . . . gold. Not blue or brown like most people, nor the rare green, but bright golden amber. Eyes unlike any he had seen, and he knew he was gawking at the golden eyes above the purple lips that smiled back at him, but he couldn't help himself.

"Enough from me, let us dance," his father finished, causing an eruption of not only music, but also cheers.

Jasper pushed his chair back, his mother gawking with a question, "Are you going to dance?"

"Perhaps," he mumbled making his way to the dance floor.

He made his way into the crowd, dodging the spinning couples and the shooting arms that begged him to dance with him. He ignored the flirtatious calls, the winking eyes. The only eyes he cared for were golden behind the crystal mask.

Then he felt two strong, small, gloved hands clinching his arm, sending a jolt of electricity through his arms. He turned in surprise at their strength, his right hand sliding into her smaller one, and his left around her waist as the hands guided him.

"A man should not wander the dance floor alone, its dangerous," a voice he could only describe as musical chimes, giggled.

He looked into the same, crystal mask, but the eyes were different this time. They were a fierce, intoxicating topaz blue, but they were the same eyes lined in silver eyeliner and a haze of purple eye shadow. "Yeah, you never know who might pounce."

She giggled at his reference, a sound perhaps even more beautiful that her voice alone and he glided alone happily in step with her. He decided that it must have been the light that made her eyes look amber before.

"Where is your mask," she asked, and he spun her, her black ball gown billowing around her like a black flower.

"It is my party, my mother would not allow me to hide behind a mask," he answered honestly as she curved her body back into place and they continued to dance.

"Well I am glad, I was very curious to see you in person," she smiled, flashing dazzling white teeth from behind her purple painted lips.

He couldn't talk for a moment, something that annoyed him to no end, being dazzled by a woman! "Everyone is, aren't they?"

They spun in place together and despite the many dance lessons forced on him, he felt inadequate as her dance partner. She seemed to float on air, and moved like water.

"I suppose, you are the Night's Guardian," she said the words and they sounded beautiful, mysterious in her chime like voice. Normally it was a title that annoyed him. Night's Guardian? Was that the best his ancestors could think of?

"What is your name," he finally asked, suddenly very curious to see her face. He was entirely unaware of the eyes that were watching their dance now.

The music ended and every pair separated, clapping for the ending song and awaiting the next one to begin. Away from him like this he realized how small she was. In fact she looked oddly pixie like. She was a little more than a head shorter, and extremely fragile looking. Her hair was even short in proportions, a raven black, and spiky in the back, but falling elegantly around her face in a small wave.

"Happy Birthday Prince Hale," she smiled, turning to walk away.

He stepped to follow her, but a new pair of arms reached out to stop him. He lost the small bobbing black head in the crowd. For the next two hours he watched for her from his seat at the table, despite the angry glares the women on the dance floor gave him for not dancing with them.

He had given up by the end of those two hours, and waited the opportune moment to escape. That moment came when the music stopped, and everyone averted their attention to the eastern wall that was made entirely of glass.

He left the table and made his way to the opposite side of the room, away from the glass wall, towards a set of stairs that spiraled a narrow tower. He sighed in relief as he found no one had crossed the rope to sit on the steps for some alone time and slowly walked up to the balcony, when something glinting in the dim light caught his attention. He bent over to pick up the crystal mask, and felt a jolt, the same jolt he had felt when the gloved hands had touched him, a jolt of excitement.

His steps were a little quicker as he continued to the private balcony.

He almost gasped at her beauty beneath the fiery lights of the beginning fireworks. Her flawless face was watching the sky with a small smile. Her face lit up in splashes of green, blue, purple, and red, with each burst of the fireworks. He was more mesmerized by her, than the lights in the sky.

Then she turned to him, her eyes alight with gold, and smiled at him.

He had never felt this way before. He had never felt so weak and vulnerable, nor alive.

He knew it couldn't be good.