Author: Insanity's Partner PM
We were nothing more than a paradox. It was as if Life, Death and Fate were trying to keep us from ever being together, and pushing us at each other at the same time. BxE AU 1674Rated: Fiction T - English - Drama/Angst - Bella & Edward - Chapters: 18 - Words: 30,447 - Reviews: 337 - Favs: 80 - Follows: 117 - Updated: 08-30-08 - Published: 04-22-07 - id: 3503892
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Okay, so first, I changed the Title and Summary. This used to be known as The Gown.
The plot is still the same. The original plot was that they were in 1670's. He's a Duke, she's a commoner.
But as I wrote out the plot line, I found it easier to just keep the new plot, and change the name of the story and summary. I found that it made a BAD au story that was supposed to be filled with drama, scandal, and symbolism, but made a good... whatever it is now.
Now, they're still in the 1670's, it just isn't as centered around the whole duke/commoner scandal thing.
For those who don't know, a Paradox is:
1) A statement, proposition, or situation that seems to be absurd or contradictory, but in fact is or may be true. (Or in other words, something that sounds crazy, but it's true, or could be true. Like my little brother actually being smart.)
2) A statement or proposition that contradicts itself. (Like an Oxymoron. Ie. Real Live Ghost. Jumbo shrimp. Military intelligence, ect.)
3) Something contrary to popular belief: something that is contrary to or conflicts with conventional or common opinion. (Like people who talk themselves. Contrary to popular belief, they aren't crazy.)
I'm focusing on the fact that they together are physical opposites, and that it should be impossible for them to be together, but everytime fate pulls them apart, they get pushed back together by the same force.
The plot is going to get a little hectic. And to prevent confusion to myself, and those around me, I will not be writing in the style of Shakespeare.
I would have liked to, actually. I'm a fan of Shakespeare myself. I just hate that my friends have to rely on a a website that translates the text into modern english for them.
So, um... yeah.
Disclaimer: Oh, wait. Here's a paradox: Contrary to popular belief -laughs hysterically- I don't actually own Twilight.
"Walk straighter, Isabella; don't slouch, Isabella." I said, bitterly mimicking my mother's voice as I scrubbed the plates in the wash tub we had. "Isabella, how do you ever expect to earn a husband if you don't present yourself?"
Humph, I scoffed to myself. What if I didn't want a man? What if I just so happened to think all men were tenacious pigs?
"Isabella!" My mother shrieked from the other room. I rolled my eyes and gently laid down the plate I was washing and prepared for whatever she had waiting for me. She only used my full name when she is angry, or wants me to do something.
Based on her latest mood, I was fairly certain it was the first.
I slowly stood up from the stool in front of the wash tub in front of me, and walked slowly into the house, cringing when she yelled for me again, and walked a little faster.
"Isabella!" she yelled, louder, and I scurried into the front of the house, if you could call it that, where mother kept her shop. "Isabella," she hissed, once I'd finally arrived. "How many times must I yell your name before you decide to grace me with your presence?" I opened my mouth to retort, but she cut me off. "Fetch me Mrs. Livingston's dress from my workbench," she yelled, and then I noticed the elaborately dressed lady standing beside my mother. Definitely of royal status; what was she doing here? "Now!" she snapped, bringing me back from my reverie. I scurried upstairs, and spotted the gown lying neatly folded on her desk.
I grabbed it, turning to go down the stairs when I heard my mother speak. "You must excuse her," she told the woman. "She is a rather stupid child. Sometimes I wonder if there is anything good about her other than her lovely voice…" I tuned out. My own mother! Slandering her only daughter?
I had to resist the urge to rip the dress to shreds, but knew the punishment would be far too severe.
I rushed down the stairs, interrupting their conversation and handing my mother the dress.
My mother gave the woman a polite smile, and unfolded it, so she would be able to see it. The look on the woman's face slowly turned from excitement to disgust as she raked in the appearance of the dress. I had to fight back the urge to smile.
"You call this a dress?" she hissed, "It's absolutely revolting!"
"But, I-I-" My mother began to stutter, stunned. This obviously wasn't the reaction she'd been expecting.
"Get this out of my sight! If you think I'd pay for something as hideous as this, then you are sadly mistaken!" And with that, she turned and stormed from the shop, while I internally applauded her.
The look on my mother's face went from shock to absolute anger.
She threw the gown at me, whipping me slightly on my arm as she did so. "Dispose of this! If I ever see it again, you will be punished." And then she turned to go to her office to smash something, while I was internally grateful she didn't do something particularly rash, as she tended to in moments of anger.
I looked at the dress. It was hideous. I was not surprised in the least by the woman's reaction. I was however, surprised my mother would make something this awful.
But it would look nice, maybe if I shortened the sleeves, and got rid of the poof at the shoulders and elbows. And maybe if I gave it a stitched bodice, to make it look more common, yet, give it a royal look at the same time. And maybe if I were to—
No, wait! What am I doing, entertaining such asinine ideas? If I were to be merely caught with the dress, I could be sent to jail. A commoner? Wearing a royal gown? Absolute stupidity.
I held it up, preparing to rip it apart… But I couldn't. In my mind, all I could see were visions of a beautiful gown…
It wouldn't be hard to steal some material from my mother… And sewing was (Though I made sure my mother couldn't tell,) one of my talents, if I tried hard enough.
I could do it. I could make an exceptionally beautiful dress out of this piece of… garbage.
Oh, and Bella's mother in this story is by NO means Renee. Renee is NOT as tightly stiched as the BITCH I have portraying Bella's mother here. (And I think you'll be reading a lot of her in this story.)
The e-mail system is down, but that doesn't mean I can't still read and reply to all of your reviews… so don't let that stop you from reviewing!
Oh, and if you'd like to send me a PM, use the email I have on my profile. Thanks!