Buck Moon

It was the two nights later I sought them out for the first time. Renesmee lay beside me on Mother's bed, hand curled in mine. Soft visions of warm fur curled in small fists filled my mind. Awhile ago we'd stopped sleeping in our room at the cottage. It was easier for the others to look after us if we were at the house, then having others split up and sit out the night so far away.

As softly as I could, I removed my hand from my sisters. Her dreams slipped away, and I sighed in relief. Though Jacob was a welcome comfort between all the worry and the stress, Renesmee held a different affinity for the pack's alpha than I. The true comfort Renesmee felt in Jacob's presence felt artificial in my chest when she shared those moments. It was uncomfortable. Like wearing socks that were too big.

I silently flitted out of the room, opening and closing the door before Renesmee could feel the hall light on her face. As I searched for Vladimir and Stefan, I recalled the talk I'd had with Carlisle two nights ago.

"Elizabeth?"

"Yes?"

"Is there something you wish to talk about?" I didn't turn from the painting, and almost asked my question before hesitating for the seventh time. I heard a book close behind me.

"You've been standing there for ten minutes sighing over and over again," Carlisle said. I lowered my head and sighed again. The book was set down and a chair moved back.

"Elizabeth, I can assure you, whatever it is, you may talk to me," he said. A hand landed on my shoulder. With a glance at sad red eyes, I gathered the courage to speak.

"Why does everyone hate Vladimir and Stefan?" not even before I finished, Carlisle's hand stiffened. A few moments of silence passed. I was quickly regretting ever asking, and started to move towards the door. "Forget I asked, I apologize."

"No, no, Elizabeth," Carlisle said and I paused, "I apologize. I was not prepared for that question. Please," he gestured to one of the chairs across from his desk. I glanced up, seeing his tired honey eyes, honest and open, and took a seat. I waited, my toes just barely skimming the ground. As Carlisle sat down he glanced down at my feet and smirked.

"It was only months ago that your legs barely fit across the cushion of that chair," he whispered.

"I believe that was Renesmee," I said flatly. Carlisle's eyes grew wide. Two seconds in I couldn't hold it any longer. A clear bright laugh shot out of me. Carlisle joined in shortly, as well as a few from downstairs. Emmet's loud chortle resonated from outside.

"Ah, yes, I should have known," Carlisle said, bowing his head. We let ourselves laugh a little longer. The quiet settled again, but I waited patiently as Carlisle gathered his words.

"What the Volturi have done to Vladimir and Stefan…" Carlisle started, eyes gazing off to the side, "their anger is not without great cause. But sometimes, anger blinds," he faded off.

"What did the Volturi do?" I asked. Carlisle glanced at me, eyes pensive, before gazing off towards something only he could see.

"The Romanians are far older that the Volturi. How much older, I do not know. They ruled first, for a long time, in Romania. When Aro and his brothers started seeking power, back then, there was only one obstacle in their way," his eyes landed on something behind my head. "Aro was the first to see gifts as something that could be used as an advantage, not just individually, but as a collective. The Romanians weren't prepared, having relied on what vampire kind knew of at the time; brute strength and strategy." Burning buildings, bodies, flashed across my eyes. They were vivid. Too vivid.

"They were slaughtered," I gasped.

"Yes," Carlisle spoke, voice solemn. "I don't know how many the Romanian's had amongst them, but there were more than the numbers Aro rules now. Family, friends, mates, all destroyed. They warred against the Romanians for three hundred years, destroying a whole generation of vampire kind. Caius enjoyed retelling the events of their rise to glory."

"Three hundred years," I echoed. Carlisle looked at me now and smiled as well as he could with sorrow in his eyes.

"A horrible fate, for anyone," he paused for a second, seriousness developing in his tone,"I will not tell you to not have empathy, but know Elizabeth, that the Romanians weren't without their own sins." I breathed into my nose sharply, anger flooding my system. I waited. Carlisle noticed my darkened eyes, the flicker of his gaze not as subtle as he wished.

"They were ruthless and violent, openly," he continued, "They did not hesitate in their actions. Tyrannical in their rule, they slaughtered hundreds on their own. Back then, vampires and humans alike were awaiting a savior to save them all. The Volturi were the embodiment of their salvation."

"Then why let them stay here, if they are as bad as you say?" I asked. The anger I felt was heady, but so was my confusion. To many feelings were around me. "Will they harm us?" A soft touch to my chin slowly lifted my head. Carlisle kneeled before me.

"That is a good questions, Elizabeth, for which there is an answer. Sadly, I can not give it to you. But, I can tell you," he said, taking my hands in his, "that time can change you, if you let it. Though I hold no love for those two, that does not mean I can not see their value to our cause. Your Father hears no malice in their thoughts, no threat in their minds. That is why we let them stay, why your Father does not drive them away," he was petting my hair now, running his fingers through my curls. I started to yawn.

"Come," he said, lifting me into his arms, "let us get you to bed. It's been a long day." Carlisle brought me to Mother's room where Renesmee was already waiting, dressed in a white nightgown. I changed quickly into my matching one before Carlisle tucked us in. He kissed Renesmee's forehead before flitting over to my side and kissing mine.

"Remember this, Elizabeth, Renesmee," he whispered so quietly that none but us could hear, "nothing is purely good, or entirely evil."

I found them in the backyard, amongst Esme's flowers and Alice's landscaping. Alice. The burn in my heart faded as I turned my thoughts elsewhere. They seemed strange, surrounded by stalks of goldenrod and ornate stone pots of orange chrysanthemum. Stefan's right hand was cupping the head of one of the bright flowers, its color glowing on his chin. Vladimir sat on one of the beautiful stone benches that lined the path. They were talking to each other.

"-find that floral and fauna help heal the soul," I caught the tale end of whatever Stefan was saying.

"Bah," Vladimir scoffed. Stefan payed him no mind as he began inspecting petals. Neither of them looked at me as I slowly walked up the path. So subdued from Carlisle's descriptions, it was hard to imagine these two as tyrannical kings. They appeared domestic surrounded by the tamed nature of our garden.

"A bit late to be up isn't it," Vladimir slowly turned his head towards me, "suflețel?" The calculated motion should have been spine tingling, cast in black and white under a full moon, but by this ancient being it was almost romantic. Poetry in movement.

"I could not sleep," I said. Vladimir smirked and gestured to the open bench beside him. I complied.

"Sleep," Stefan mused, "that is something I would miss, if I could even remember it." Vladimir laughed.

"Food, as well, fratele meu," Vladimir added, "how they all miss these human things." Both laughed. I watched, silently, in interest at these two creatures. How friendly they acted together. A fondness and familiarity bred of time that only immortality could produce. At barely a year old, the thought of their age alone was daunting.

"How can you still find things to laugh at?" I asked. A silver brow was arched in response. Stefan, however, laughed again.

"Why do you assume we have nothing to laugh about?" Vladimir parlayed. A good question. This form of conversation was new to me. Never before had a stranger challenged me, and a heat lifted to my cheeks.

"Be kind, fratele meu," Stefan reprimanded, ancient knowing eyes lingering on my cheeks, the floral and fauna long forgotten, "Suflețel, why do you ask this question?" his delicate tone eased me.

"I just thought, that being as, old, as you are, that there is no joke you haven't already heard a million times," I said quietly. Stefan chuckled, no mock in the sound.

"At our age," Vladimir started.

"We have discovered," Stefan added.

"The world has endless surprises," Vladimir finished. They both smiled at each other, a thousand memories flickering between their eyes. My curiosity was not nearly sated, and it seemed wouldn't be that night.

"But," Stefan said, "you did not come to ask about our humors, suflețel." He leaned against one of the large pots across the path, facing the bench. They both waited as I struggled for words. My heart began to race as fear spiked my system. How did I even begin to broach what Carlisle revealed to me.

"This is about what you learned of us, Da?" Vladimir asked. They knew. Of course they did, since Carlisle and I hadn't been discreet. Until that moment, discretion hadn't seemed important. The racing of my heart was my answer. Stefan hmm'd.

"I will be the first to say, yes, it is true," Stefan said, "the things that Carlisle said. The horrible things we did, the terrible ways we treated our own, all very true."

"Oh," was all I could say, eyes on my hands as they played with the skirt of my nightgown. I was unsure how to continue. What was appropriate to do was lost on me, as I hadn't experienced an interaction like that before. How was I to take this new information? Did I condemn them like the rest of the vampire guests? Was the admittance of these sickening truths meant to warn me? If so, why would they be allowed to stay?

How were such damning truths supposed to be dealt with? I did not know, so I sat and twirled my thumbs. Silence reigned for a few long minutes. Stefan shifted his stance, the movement causing his clothing to rustle. Movements, I began to see as always intentional. Vladimir shifted, echoing.

"We did not tell you," said Vladimir. I looked up at him. "Why Caius hates the Children of the Moon." A different subject. A new conversation. My hands stopped dancing with my skirts.

"It was two millennia ago when it happened, the first uprising," Stefan began. The two went on to tell me about the gathering of the werewolves. Even though, during the full moon, they were crazed and dangerous, they did not harm each other unless provoked. After those long nights, they would arise to find others like them. They banned together, these afflicted, and found a way of life that finally fit them.

"They didn't fear harming their families, their friends, because under the moon no beast would hurt another," Stefan said, smiling.

"They had found peace with their 'affliction'," Vladimir also smiled.

It wasn't long, though, before some started to reach for power. With the Romanians out of the way, the clear targets were the rulers of the vampire world. They sought out one of the kings, alone, as they were smart enough to avoid attacking all three. During a blood moon, the group attacked Caius and his guard as they were traveling across Germany.

"They nearly killed him," Vladimir said with passion, "when the sun's first rays peered over the horizon, returning them to human form."

Caius has sought out and killed every werewolf he and his guard could find. Every few centuries, a few will pop up here or there, only to be destroyed days after discovery.

After their tale, Stefan walked me up to my room. At the door he bid me goodnight with a bow, and disappeared. I slipped under the sheets and curled up next to my sister. Not a moment later her hand found mine.

You're not as sneaky as you think you are. I smiled as we fell into a dream about meadows and orange flowers.