Twilight : Broken Hearts, Mended Souls
This is the story of Marcus Volturi, a man whose reason for living was taken from him centuries ago. He stays with the Volturi out of no recognizable desire. One night, while walking the streets of Volterra, he finds a young woman who has collapsed and is in need of care. Without thinking, he picks her up and takes her back to the Volturi's headquarters. Despite objections from his fellow coven leaders and brothers, Aro and Caius, Marcus pledges to take care of the woman, revealing nothing about his existence. Once she's well, he will let her go. But will he be able to by then.
I do not own the Volturi. I'm just borrowing them from SMeyer for awhile. I am currently also writing a story with Aro and an OC (The Blood inside you is the Blood inside me) , and will do another later with Caius and an OC. I find I like all three Volturi masters so much, I feel each deserves his own story.
This will include Marcus, Aro, Caius, any guards as needed, and my OC, Denara Nicolaos (Pronounced Dee-nar-a, the nar sounding like are/Neek-o-los like loss)
Marcus wandered the streets as he was wont to do after the sun had set and the city populace had bedded themselves down for the night. Volterra was a charming town with an interesting history and the full protection of the Volturi. Yes, vampires thousands of years old protected humans they lived among. It was a perfect symbiotic relationship. Local officials helped out when called, and were handsomely paid to ignore the rumours. Donations were made, lives were protected. It worked out for everyone.
It was well past 3am, when he saw her, a crumpled body lying on the street not far from the Volturi compound. He almost walked right past her. What was a damaged human to him. But his gift gave him notice, forcing him to return to her. Bending down, he heard her heart beating. She was alive, but seemed awfully thin. Marcus really wanted to leave her behind, but his gift gave him the vision of two cords of light, moving around together yet barely touching. Some type of relationship was already forming between them. He couldn't walk away from her.
Tucking his arms beneath the woman, he picked her up, and in a blur of speed, returned home. Once there, Marcus headed to one of the guest rooms saved for the few visitors received at the castle. He set the woman in one of the room's chairs, and lowered the bed covers. He picked her up once more and placed her in the bed, unsure what to do. Her clothes were dirty, and she could use a bath, but first, he'd need to make sure she was conscious and able to move around on her own. Removing his suit coat, he rolled up his sleeves and went to the bathroom. Marcus wet a washcloth with hot water, soaping it up a bit. Then he returned to the bedroom and proceeded to wash her face, noticing how smooth and flawless her skin was. It didn't seem possible, under the dirt, but perhaps she just hadn't any recent access to a shower.
Marcus saw to her arms and hands. Then he dispassionately removed her outer clothing and shoes, leaving her underthings on her, and washed her bare legs and feet. For now, this would have to do until she was able to walk to the bathroom on her own two legs. He pulled the covers over her, then sat at the foot of the bed. His eyes scanned her. She had medium length dark brown hair that could use a brushing, no purse or ID in her jeans pockets. Marcus found himself wondering what colour her eyes would be once she opened them.
Deciding she would not be waking soon, Marcus ran to the castle's kitchen, and prepared a tray for the unconscious woman. He filled a nightstand carafe with water, then set the matching glass on top. Searching the refrigerator, he found some meats, but wondered if she was well enough to have solid food just yet. Instead, he heated up a can of soup, setting several pieces of buttered bread on the tray beside the bowl of steaming soup. He wished their human chef was here, but it was still the early morning hours. Unused to such menial labor, he oddly didn't feel it was beneath him. Marcus actually felt a certain satisfaction in helping the woman.
Running the corridor at breakneck speed, he smiled when he saw the food was still intact. He hadn't thought of that in his rush to return to the guest room.
Setting the tray on the small console table sitting beneath a window, Marcus checked on his patient. She had not yet awakened. He wondered if she needed a doctor to come check her over, something Aro would probably veto. No, Marcus would care for her himself, and hopefully she would live.
The soup would be cool soon, so he sat on a chair he moved beside the bed. He had already set the tray on the side table, after pushing the lamp back to make room, and now wanted to see if he could awaken her. Using his hand, he gently felt her head for any lumps. He didn't think she had been attacked, but most likely had fainted from hunger, if her thin body was any indication.
"Child, wake up. I have some food for you. Can you open your eyes," he said, his hand on her cheek.
Finally, after a few minutes, she began to stir, one hand reaching up to her forehead. "What the...where am I?"
Marcus leaned closer. "You're in my home. I found you unconscious on the street and brought you here. Please open your eyes."
Complying, she did just that and looked up into the face of a man, a stranger. He seemed to have a kind face, but then she realized she was in her underwear. Pulling the bedspread up to her chin, she glared at Marcus, an indignant look on her face. "Where are my clothes? Did you...?"
"No! I never touched you, except to remove your dirty clothing and I...I did wash you up some, but I never..." Marcus was thrown by her implied accusation.
"Stay back. Don't come any closer." She suddenly smelled the chicken soup and turned to the side, seeing the tray holding the bowl, some slices of bread and a small pitcher of water. "Is that for me?"
"Yes, yes it is," he replied. "Here, have some soup before it gets cold. I'll sit right here and not move any closer to you. I swear." Marcus didn't need her screaming and alerting everyone, including his brothers. "May I ask you your name?"
"My name is Denara Nicolaos." She struggled to sit up, but kept her eyes on Marcus the entire time. Making sure the bedspread was still tucked under her chin, she managed to fill her glass with some water and drank, then just finished off the pitcher. "Can I have some more...please?"
Marcus could not help but give her a small smile. "You're Greek then." He took the pitcher from her hand and stood, going to the bathroom. He held the re-filled pitcher out to her, and only sat down when she seemed occupied with eating.
"My great-grandparents on my father's side were Greek. They moved from the old country to America, New York City." She groaned and rubbed her forehead gently. "I have such a headache." She bit into a piece of the bread in between spoonsful of the soup. "I'm sorry if I was rude. This is really good."
"It's canned." While she spoke, Marcus noticed her eyes. They were blue, not sky blue, but almost a dark turquoise blue, the circle around the iris a deep sea blue. He found them mesmerizing. His eyes, for the moment, were dark brown from the lenses he had put in when he went for his walk. He had no plans to reveal himself to her. Once she was better, Marcus had decided he would give her some money to buy new clothes and sundries, then send her on her way.
"I don't care if you stole it from your dog's bowl, it tastes good." She finished everything on the tray and leaned back against the bed's headboard.
"Do you want more?" If she was that hungry, maybe she could manage solid food.
"No thanks. I haven't eaten in so long, I'm already full. Maybe later?" She didn't want him to think she wouldn't be hungry, ever. "So are your people Greek?" she asked.
"Yes, my...uh...people are from Greece."
"By the way, what's your name?"
"Marcus Volturi, at your service."
Denara held out her hand. "Chairomai pou se gnorizo."
Marcus smiled as he shook her hand. "Likewise. Well, I'm impressed."
"Don't be. It's all I know, literally. Oh, and yiasou. The things we pick up at Greek food festivals, right?" She slunk down under the covers, then sat upright. "Um, Marcus, I need to use the loo. Can you please close your eyes while I run..." She pointed to the door he had gone through to get her water.
Closing his eyes, he heard her leave the bed and run to the bathroom. Apparently, she decided to make use of the soap, toothbrush, and hair brush as well.
Eight minutes later, she opened the door and announced, "I'm coming out. Don't peek!"
"I am not peeking, Denara." He found himself smiling, and it was a wonderful feeling.
She ran to the bed, getting back under the covers. "It's ok now. You can look."
Marcus opened his eyes, seeing she did brush her hair. If she were bathed and dressed, she would be an actual beauty. "I can send someone to buy you some proper clothing. I would need your size."
She peered at this man who was taking care of her and didn't seem to mind. "You don't have to do that. I can just wash what I have."
"You will not." He stood and looked down at her. She appeared so vulnerable, yet if life had thrown her only terrible things, her personality was undamaged by it. His gift showed him the moving light ribbons loosely intertwining now. "I will tell you what. I will go to my rooms and bring back a robe for you to wear until we get you some new clothes. You can then go take a shower. It will be rather large, but you can rest assured, it will cover most if not all of you."
Denara considered his offer. "Yes, that would work. Thank you, Marcus. I don't know you, and you don't know me, but we seem to be simpatico." She flashed him a sincere smile.
He felt his heart jump, an impossibility, he knew. "I'll be right back." He left the room, careful not to expose his speed until he was out of eyesight.
Denara sat in the bed, relaxing. It was the first time she felt safe in weeks. She had to figure out a way to get home to New York. She hated to ask Marcus for a loan. She'd wait awhile and just let him help her since it seemed to make him happy.
Just then, another man entered the bedroom.
"What have we here?" he demanded, a smile nevertheless on his pale yet, dare she say, beautiful face. He held out his hand to her, but Denara pulled the bedspread up under her chin again, her hands safely beneath it.
Marcus returned, a robe draped over his arm. Anger showed on his face when he saw his brother in the room, attempting to read his guest.
"Aro! Step away from the bed!"
A/N : I just love these guys. Immortal or not, Marcus deserves some love too.
This was short, I know, but it served as more of an intro. The chapters will be longer.
And comments are always welcome. It encourages a writer's soul. Thanks!