Disclaimer: All Characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. The plot is all mine.
Carlisle my dear old friend,
Forgive the sudden imposition I bring to your doorstep without any fair warning. Although be as it may that you haven't visited me in over a century, I am willing to forgive you for your lack of attendance if you grant me this request. It is my last resort, and you are my final possibility.
My brother and I have tried everything and the results were fruitless.
Perhaps if he left our Volterra for a time, saw the world outside, it might shine some life into him.
Allow him the freedom to venture about, yet he still needs to be overseen at all times, I cannot stress how important that is. And I do not trust leaving him in the care of any other coven but yours despite your hogwash diet.
So do not even attempt to persuade him to convert to your dietary means. Caius and I will know if you do so and we will douse your pretty little house in human blood, and impale those mortals living in your little town on metal spears all across your estate.
If you believe me to make light of the consequence then please try to tempt me.
I could make due with a little entertainment.
And so with my parting words, and all matters attended to accordingly, I leave Marcus in your safe care. I expect detailed reports should there be any progress in his behavior.
Your eternally loyal friend,
Carlisle neatly folded the letter back into its lavishly designed envelope. His whiskey kissed gaze lifted to stare at the milky blood tinted irises of one of the Volturi leaders. The only one of the three that hardly posed any threat.
And currently he was too preoccupied staring into a daze instead of looking back at the Cullen patriarch and the family gathered behind him. Well, not all were present. They were missing the youngest bronze haired member.
Carlisle held back a sigh. There really was no way out of this. And it wasn't as if they didn't have the room to accommodate the vampire king and his traveling cortège of ten Volturi guards, including some of the deadly elites.
Mind resolved only by no other alternative, Carlisle played the role of the humble and honored host. Smiling graciously, he took a step forward. The dark haired leader seemed to have awakened from his blur as he met the gaze of the blonde immortal before him.
"You honor us with your visit, Marcus." Carlisle inclined his head. His voice smooth and dripping like honey.
Marcus nodded once. Which was as much as Carlisle would get out of the reserved vampire king.
As the Volturi leader followed behind the Cullen patriarch deeper into the manor, a disturbing revelation dawned on the blonde man.
The letter never mentioned a duration with which their esteemed guest would be staying in Forks.
Sooner rather than later him and his "escorts" would need to hunt. In that moment Carlisle Cullen realized exactly the sort of trials he was going to face.
The most gruesome one being that no one can ever refuse the Volturi anything – unless one wished to suffer the repercussions.
Author's Note: Just like my story (Nosferatu), I'm posting this prologue to see what sort of response I get from this premature idea.
I wrote "Aro's letter" when I was very fluster one night, so if you get a very bossy/demanding vibe with a hint of a threat thrown in then that's the reason. But it's still in a very Aro-like cordial way. I hope. *nervous laughter*
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