Everything Is Eclipsed by the Shape of Destiny

Emerson narrowed her eyes in disdain as she stared at the fitted black suit that rested atop her bed, patiently waiting for her to slip it on so they could venture forth to the wedding where all her dreams would officially be crushed before an eager audience who would never suspect that she – one of the groomsmen – was madly in love with the groom.

Tears began to well in her eyes as she thought of how emotionally draining the day that lay before her was going to be and the more she thought of it, the more she wanted to owl Bill with a letter stating that she had fallen ill and would be unable to attend his wedding but she knew that no illness would be a good enough excuse for Bill.

Knowing him, he would show up at her apartment with an array of potions for every malady imaginable just so that she would be able to attend his wedding, because he refused to marry without his best friend present.

He needed her there and as much as it pained Emerson to stand at his side while he married another, she knew that being there was the less of two evils because staying at home, wondering how the ceremony was unfolding, would be infinitely more torturous than being there.

A knock at the door snapped Emerson out of her silent contemplation.

Her brow instantly furrowed in confusion. It was only seven am on a Friday, which meant that all her friends were barely hitting the snooze button on their alarm clocks for the first time. It had to be someone outside of her extended circle of friends, but who could it be?

Curious to find out who it was, she began the relatively short journey to the entryway, muttering a few choice spells to better her appearance; she didn’t want anyone to know that her morning had been spent bawling.

When Emerson arrived at the door there was no trace of tears, she looked incredibly refreshed, as if she had just spent an entire day at the spa and it was a good thing that she appeared composed because standing on the other side of the door was her twin brother, Everett Maddox Figueroa, with two large coffees in his hands.

“What are you doing up so early?” asked Emerson, genuinely shocked to see him out in society before one in the afternoon.

“This is not a time to discuss what I'm doing up early! This is a time to formulate a plan, a damn good plan!” exclaimed Everett, rushing into the apartment. “I was up all night trying to figure out what to do, but none of my ideas were worthy of being executed!”

“Wait.” Emerson pursed her lips. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about a plan!” he set the coffees down at a nearby table.

“A plan for what?” was her response.

“A plan to stop the wedding,” Everett sat down on the couch. “Now, sit your ass down, we need to start scheming. We only have four hours before the ceremony.”

Emerson glared. “How many times have I told you that I'm not going to ruin his wedding?”

“Just because you say that you’re not going to that doesn’t mean that you don’t want to,” argued Everett. “We both know that you don’t want him to marry that little girl.”

“But he does,” Emerson paused briefly, finding the strength to utter the following few words, “And that’s what matters.”

“He only wants to because he doesn’t know that he’s destined to be with you.” Everett was also a shifter, a shifter that had imprinted four years ago. “If you just told him about the imprinting he’d put an end to the wedding. If you just told him, he’d be with you.”

“Everett, I know you mean well, but I don’t want to hear any of this right now.”

“Well you better hear this.” he stood from his seat on the couch.

“I'm not having this conversation,” muttered Emerson angrily.

“You need to have this fucking conversation!” barked Everett. “You’ve got this stupid idea in your head that he doesn’t love you, that he loves her but that’s not true! I know that the moment you tell him about the imprinting, he’ll realize that he’s in love with you and that you’ll be able to have that fairytale romance that the our pueblo’s legends speak of!”

“Do you honestly believe that?” Emerson tilted her head to the side.

Everett nodded.

“Well then you, my dear brother, are an incredibly naïve little boy.”

“I'm a lot of things, but naïve isn’t one of them.” Everett stepped closer. “Our entire existence has been composed of magic. We are wizards, we are shifters, we’re not like everyone else out there and there are few things that we can look towards for help and the legends, well, the legends are all we have so don’t act like they don’t mean anything when they’re our only guide.”

“Everett . . .”

“If you imprinted then that means that somehow you’re going to end up with Bill. Do I know how? No, I don’t have a fucking clue as to how that’s going to come about but I do know that it’s going to happen so stop acting like you’re fine with his getting married and go out there and find a way to make him notice you as a woman!”

“Notice me as a woman? I’ve been sleeping with him for the last THREE years of my life, he’s had PLENTY of time to notice me as a woman while he was making me squirm in ecstasy!” snapped Emerson, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Emerson,” the tears in her eyes made his heart constrict painfully.

“SHUT UP!” interjected Emerson, no longer attempting to remain composed. “I’ve had enough of you.”

“But I was just trying to help.”

“Well don’t,” her glare intensified. “You have no clue as to what I'm going through so don’t you dare come over here to preach because if you do, I’ll stupefy you and tuck you away in the closet of the guest room.”

Everett was flabbergasted, never before had his sister spoken to him in such a manner.

“I know what it’s like when your imprints in love with someone else or did you forget that Tulia was married when I imprinted on her?”

Emerson remained silent.

“She was married to her high school sweetheart and seeing her with another, made me sick to my stomach. Want to know what I did to make her mine? I fought for her, I threw myself at her feet, I romanced the shit out of her and if you want to be happy with Bill then that’s exactly what you need to be doing.”

“I'm not going to beg him to love me,” declared Emerson. “I’m not going to romance him nor am I going to throw myself at his feet and let me tell why it is that I refuse to do any of those things, the reason is honestly quite simple, it’s because men don’t respect women that chase after them like lost little puppies and no self respecting woman would put herself through that.”

“But you . . .”

“He’s made his decision!” barked Emerson. “He knows what he wants in his life and I’ve come to terms with it. I'm resolved with the agony that will consume my being if it means that my imprint will live a life of incandescent happiness.”

“But what about your happiness! I'm sure if you . . .”

“You don’t get it,” whispered Emerson, her facial expression softening. “I don’t want to romance him. I'm tired of taking on traditionally masculine roles in my life. I don’t . . . I don’t want to be the girl that breaks curses and has a pint with the boys afterwards. Just once in my life I want to be the girl that wears the pretty dress and gets a ridiculous arrangement of flowers delivered to her by the guy that she loves, I know that sounds pathetic but it’s what I want, so forgive me for not wanting to chase after him . . . forgive me for wanting to be chased.”

“I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“Now you do,” Emerson smiled weakly. “I'm going to lie down for a bit. Um, make yourself at home, there’s some lasagna in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

Emerson had hoped that laying down would induce sleep, but the moment that her body fell upon the mattress she began to sob, clutching the pillow on which Bill had slept, tightly, believing that he was the pillow; that he was there with her.

Many hours passed before Emerson regained control over her emotions. Her eyes were red from all the crying, her boyishly short hair tangled from rolling over on the bed, she wanted to stay home, to lie in bed and cry the day away but she had to get ready for the wedding.

She had to make herself presentable for the world at large.

In an hour’s time Emerson finished getting ready, she went to great lengths to transform her appearance into one of a proper young woman; her hair was styled, makeup done impeccably, and she even sprayed on some perfume.

When Emerson and Everett arrived at The Burrow they were greeted by Molly Weasley, a person that neither had ever met in their lives; they had heard a lot about her but had never been introduced.

“Hello dears how are you?” she greeted warmly.

“We’re doing well.” Emerson smiled. “How are you Mrs. Weasley?”

“Ecstatic,” she exclaimed, “Forgive me if I sound rude, but, have we met before?”

“No, we haven’t. I'm Emerson Figueroa and this is my twin Everett, we’re friends of William’s and his groomsmen.”

“But you’re a lady! Oh that William is always shaking things up. Well it’s lovely to meet you, my dears,” she hugged them both tightly. “Let me call one of my sons to show you to William’s room. FRED! GEORGE! RON!”

Emerson suppressed her urge to laugh, Molly reminded her of her mother.

“One of them shall be along shortly, please, do sit.” Molly sat across from them. “Is that an American accent that I hear?”

“Yes,” answered Everett. “We’re California natives.”

“California, oh, I’ve heard that it’s such a lovely place. Always wanted to visit but with so many children traveling is hardly an enjoyable task.”

Emerson grinned. “Well now that all your kids are grown up you should visit. You’re more than welcome to stay with us while you explore.”

“Thank you very much Emerson.”

Fred appeared. “You called for me.”

“Yes, Fred this is Emerson and Everett, friends of your brothers and Emerson, Everett this is my son Fred. He will show you the way to Bill’s bedroom, he’s already up there with his brother Charlie. Have you met Charlie?”

“We have.” Everett turned to Emerson. “Did we meet him last spring or winter?”

“It was spring,” answered Emerson.

“Oh yeah, we met him during one of his vacations, really nice guy.”

“He is,” agreed Emerson. “You’ve done a great job raising your children.”

“Why thank you dear . . .”

“Mum, can I take them to Bill’s room or am I going to be stuck here listening to this overly polite conversation because I have some important business to attend to with the bridal party.”

“Fred Weasley, don’t you dare fool around with those girls on the day of your brothers wedding!” hissed Molly.

“Alright, I won’t, no need to get your knickers in a twist.” Fred shot her a goofy grin. “Well, mum, if you don’t mind I'm going to escort them to Bill’s room since that’s why I'm here. Emerson, Everett, this way please.”

Minutes later they arrived at Bill’s bedroom, where the ginger was struggling to tie his tie. He had never been good with ties, always making Emerson do the work whenever he had to wear one and just like all those times before she put it together, smoothing it out when she had finished.

Once everyone was ready they sat down on the beds, waiting for someone to enter the room to tell them that it was time to get the ceremony underway.