The following is a story about Stephenie Meyer's character Marcus. Little is said about him throughout the Twilight Saga, other than he is the "bored" member of the Volturi Coven. It was revealed at the end of Breaking Dawn in the "Vampire Index" that he had a mate named Didyme. This is their story, in my imagination at least. I hope that you enjoy this and I appreciate any comments/reviews.
Marcus stood with his usual bored expression, still as a statue. He could stay like this forever. As a matter of fact, he would stay like this forever if it weren't for Aro and Casius. If he could, he would stand here till his already paper thin skin and glazed eyes became more and more brittle looking and he became less and less human. He could stay like this forever and think of her.
Even the name was like a locked away secret, locked deep in the empty chamber that had once been his beating heart. The name was sacred, like a prayer, and his brothers knew better than to mention it out loud. No one mentioned her name out loud. It was best that way. They did not even deserve to think her name, much less speak it.
Standing there he closed his eyes and attempted to block out the feelings he got through his "gift." Even though they were not I the same room, his gift reached out like tendrils across the distance of the building. He could feel the love between siblings that Jane and Alec had, and almost smiled as he noticed yet again that one felt more affection than the other. Poor Alec, he would never see what a monster his sister truly was.
There was the deep-seeded love and passion between his brothers and their wives. These were the feelings he tried to block out more than any other. It made the emptiness, the loneliness, seem more real and somehow more permanent. The connections he felt between mates were both a blessing and a curse.
It was a blessing because for a few fleeting moments he could remember what he had felt with his own wife: the love, the passion, the irresistible desire to be with her and have her near. It was a curse because he knew that he would never have that for himself again.
The truth of the matter was that he had loved Didyme more passionately than any connection he had sensed…until recently.
He let his mind wander to the young vampire Edward and the strange little human girl that had come to them a short time ago. He had let the façade he presented to the world slip for just a moment when he had sensed the connection between those two. He remembered the thoughts that had gone through his mind at the moment he felt them, "So strong! How is it possible…?" The mind-reader had assumed that he was thinking of the connection between the vampire he called his sister and himself. He had not corrected this assumption and had let his mind wander to boring, mundane thoughts again. He would not let his mind wander and reveal his thoughts to this Edward although the urge to think of iher/i after feeling such a strong bond was almost irresistible. It had been several days since their visit and now he could let his mind wander to the places it wanted to again.
Standing there her name wandered through his mind once again…
He had never told anyone, not even his brothers, that the bond he shared with his own wife was stronger than any bond he had sensed before or since, at least until now. His brothers would argue that they loved their wives and, yes, he knew that they did, but the bond was not the same. It was like comparing two people's hearts and existence being held together by a serviceable, strong, gold thread to two people being held together by thick chains of iron.
That was what he and Didyme had had. That was what this Edward and Bella had.
Again, thoughts of the vampire and his little human made his own mind wander to the relationship he had had with his wife. He remembered her smile, her long flame colored locks, the way that they met….
He had been a vampire still in his youth, well, to him it was a time he still considered his youth despite the fact that he had been several centuries old, but, then again, that was to be expected when one had already lived for several millennia. Youth, it was all a matter of perspective.
It was said that vampires didn't change, but in truth, he had been different then, both physically and mentally. It was difficult to imagine with the bored exterior he presented to the world now, but then he had had a ready smile, a genuine laugh, and a twinkle to his crimson eyes. He had drawn in his prey, usually beautiful women, rather easily. Against their better judgment, they ignored the crimson eyes, and only saw the handsome face, the pale ivory skin set off by long ebony hair, the ready smile, and the charming manner.
Things had been fun then. If he could get past the pain he would miss the thrill of the hunt. There was a certain thrill that came with making your prey want you. He remembered how the majority of the women he had seduced and lured to their deaths and welcomed the feel of his lips and then his teeth at their throats. They had welcomed his attention, and then they had welcomed death at his hands.
After centuries of seducing the loveliest of women on his travels, their faces becoming a blur of delicate features, different colored eyes, pretty lips, and different shades of hair from blonde to black, he had begun to grow bored. Yes, all these women were beautiful, and their blood helped to easy the never ending thirst, but they also bored him endlessly with their insipid and predictable reactions.
Then he had met her.
He had been in Rome at the time and had been thankful for the overcast day. He was hungry and wanted to start his hunting early and the clouds had provided just the right amount of cover for him to start walking through the marketplace in search of his meal. The vendors were closing up their shops, putting up their wares behind sheets of heavy fabric. Bundling up into his cloak to ward off looks since it wasn't necessary to ward off the chill, his eyes took in the scene around him. Slaves, young and old, were helping their masters and mistresses. Children were running here and there, excited that the day was over, ignoring the splashes as servants threw water on the cobblestones to clear way the remnants of the day's work. He had been wondering how picky he would be about his meal when he heard her laughter.
The sound had stopped him I his tracks. It was like the sound of music to his ears and it would have set his heart pounding if it still capable of beating. The need to find the source of that magical laughter was stronger than the need to feed and he turned around slowly, ignoring the boy who had come up offering him some trinket or other, as he turned slowly. He didn't even notice as the boy caught a glimpse of his blood red eyes and ran away. Other, more important matters were at hand.
He stopped when he saw her standing there. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever set eyes upon with her flaming red hair intricately piled on the back of her head with dark blue ribbons. Her skin was the color of fresh cream with just the faintest of blushes under the scattering of a few freckles that were sprinkled across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. The color was even more enticing against the dark shade of blue of the dress she wore.
He was already planning how he would lure her in, wanting her blood more than he had wanted anything, when she turned, as if sensing that he was watching her. It was then that those impossibly colored, midnight blue eyes caught his own. As if that weren't enough, her perfectly shaped lips turned up at the corners in a smile that made him catch his breath as she looked at him.
She was perfection.
It was no longer about wanting her, it was about needing her.
Yet, even knowing that he had to have her, his feet didn't move and he stood there, staring. Most women, most humans for that matter, would have been put off by being stared down by a creature such as himself, but instead she just smiled, curiosity lighting up her eyes. She was the one that actually took the first step towards him, though her gaze flickered to the man at her side.
For a moment, as her gaze left his, he felt a stab of unbelievable jealousy that almost stole his breath away. He was still pondering at this surge of feeling when he used his ability to sense what the relationship was between this woman who had bewitched him and the man by her side. It seemed that she viewed the man as an authority figure of sorts. Not a father, no, but someone she respected.
She was speaking so softly to the man that he couldn't hear what she was saying above the noises of the marketplace. The older man gave him a dubious glance then let her go. As she approached he could find no fault. She was beautiful, graceful, even if she was human, and when she spoke her voice was what the stars would sound like if they could sing to the gods.
"Good evening, friend."
He didn't know if he was more surprised by how beautiful he found her voice or by the fact that she had dared to speak to him at all. Standing still as a statue he just watched her as her gaze grew more curious, and then slightly uncomfortable as he continued to stare.