Somewhat Random Gift, Jacob/Bella
Bella tore the wrapping paper away to reveal… "A sweater!"
She smiled brightly, thanked Jacob profusely for his somewhat random gift.
Jake sighed, muttered something under his breath. "Only neat little Bella Swan would keep it folded like that."
Bella frowned, shook the sweater out. "Oh! It's a hoodie. I love hoodies."
Jacob grinned. "I know. Put it on."
When she had it on he kissed her, tugged at the drawstrings and murmured "Now make sure you don't wear this when you cut through the woods to visit your grandmother."
Tomato red, with the hood.
"Very clever wolf-boy."
The trouble with trying to live fairytales is that you grow out of them.
Human beings do, anyway.
It might take a year, ten, half a life-time, but at some point the paint cracks, flakes off the castle walls, the gilt-tipped bars framing the moat lose their shine to rust. Then Prince Charming folds back into the pop-up book and you start thinking how you want to write and travel, make your own decisions, answer to no one, cut off all your hair, climb out of the tower, live.
Live without him even if he can't live without you.
Wrong, Jacob, The Cullens
Jacob has been spending way too much time around the Cullens and frankly, despite the constant nausea from the smell, he is starting to wonder if they are actually vampires, because really, come on.
These people – people?! – are not the descendents of dark myths, the stuff of nightmares and movie-theatre screams.
The Cullens belong in fairytales, and not the creepy-ass German originals, we're talking Disney.
Carlisle and Esme especially, with the loving glances they have for each other and the doting smiles they have for their 'children', could be the happily-ever-after in a picture book.
It's just wrong.
Prince Charming, Jacob/Bella
Jacob isn't Prince Charming.
Prince Charming is a perfect pale boy with topaz eyes, hair like spun gold, curiously old-fashioned manners and a world that revolves around her, only her, absolutely her, forever and always, ever after, happily or not, this girl.
Even when he leaves her with cruel-to-be-kind words, and she is just a shell of a princess, sleep-walking through her tragedy, she knows deep down that he loves her, that he – they – were real, or as real as fairytales get.
Jacob isn't Prince Charming. It will take more than a chaste kiss to wake Bella up.
Life Lessons, Leah, Quil/Claire
"And then the handsome Prince and his beloved Princess Claire were married and lived happily ever after in their perfect, peaceful castle."
Leah snapped the book shut, beamed down at her audience.
"Boring," Claire pronounced.
Leah almost giggled, tried to look concerned. "You didn't like it?"
She shook her head. "It's boring, they always get married."
Leah squealed with delight, scooped Claire up in her arms. "That's my girl! Now repeat after me: Love is for sissies."
Little Claire spoke solemnly. "Love is for thithies."
Quil looked up from the Clearwaters' busted TV, glared and threatened not to fix it.
Language, Alice, Jacob
"She's going to be dazzling."
Alice skipped through the house letting everyone know. She got a benign smile from Esme, the same from Carlisle but tinged with worry. Rosalie didn't seem to hear her, she was too caught up in the baby.
Jacob Black heard though, even if she hadn't been talking to him.
"You talk like this is all some fucking Cinderella story."
He actually snarled the last couple of words, fidgeted, glanced uneasily at Rose and Renesmee. It was almost comical, like a parody of aggression.
Alice giggled, then frowned.
"Carlisle, where do we keep the swear jar?"
The Fair Prince, Rosalie
If anyone was born to be a princess it was Rosalie Hale.
Even as a human she had been beautiful beyond compare, clever too, sweet enough to tempt, but not without the requisite dash of girlish vanity, the innate frivolity of the very, very rich.
She had always thought she belonged in that world, the one where homes were castles, where women like her were bejewelled, clad in silks and adored by men, no, by princes, incomparably fine in body and heart…
But in that life men had been monsters.
And in the next, the fair prince only turned away.
It has been months since her transformation – maybe years, you stop checking the calendar when you have forever – and Bella gazes at her reflection, awed as ever by her own new, sharp beauty.
Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?
She sighs, then smiles. Still Rosalie Hale.
It's tough to compete with a work of art whose raw materials were stunning in their own right.
But Bella Cullen is beautiful - too beautiful, madness – and she stares into herself, shies away from an irony: Vampires do have reflections, Bella Swan does not.
I See You, Jasper/Bella
It's a strange beauty and the beast mess, this thing they have.
When he was perfect loveliness in a family portrait of the same, she could barely see him. Even when she looked his way, she would start to see his brother's face, find Edward in the venom.
But now, under her new eyes, Jasper is Jasper, and as her cold palms press at his cold chest, as her lips brush his, drag lightly over his pale, horror-stained cheek spilling out I see you, I see you now…
She thinks the scars are like cracks, pulling her into his soul.
won't do it, never, I won't cut it. I need it because she
likes it, I know she does, and if I cut it then how will she climb
back up to me, to us, how…
I need it because she likes it, I know she does, and if I cut it then how will she climb back up to me, to us, how…
He laughs - Jacob, Jacob let down your hair – and laughs and laughs, it's unstoppable just like the pain of this, just like the monster that rips out of him even when he's trying so hard, he's been trying so hard to hold himself together, hold her together too.
It's no use, it's over.
Jacob hears the buzz of a razor, doesn't flinch.
Reason To Smile, Edward/Bella
Bella calls herself 'Little Mermaid' in secret.
She has traded everything for eternity, but not in heaven, no, here on earth, and too much of that choice is like walking on knives.
Every second step she takes is Charlie, Renee, Jacob, all the people I'll never know, the children I'll never hold.
It is agony and yet, there is still reason to smile.
There is Edward.
The little mermaid crawled out of the sea on a dream. Bella's prince loves her, only her and forever. She will not die broken-hearted, turn to sea foam.
She will not die at all.
Bella twists and turns in her bed, groans and mutters, wriggles around so much that Edward laughs and says perhaps there is a pea under the mattress, calls her his princess.
"That's angry, exhausted princess to you," she whines. "I'm going to have bags under my eyes in our wedding photos. As if I don't have enough trouble competing with you people. Argh!"
Edward smiles, strokes her hair. "Why is my princess an insomniac all of a sudden?"
She closes her eyes with a sigh, scowls at Jacob's face under her eyelids.
"I don't know… I just don't feel… comfortable."
Jacob doesn't scatter breadcrumbs as he runs into the woods, he doesn't want to find his way back, not to that.
Bella, all in white, beautiful, warm, soft, and giving it to a monster to throw away.
In his bleak and bubbling mind he sees it:
sweetness and honor, till death do us part but it won't, it's a lie because death seals you to him and weddings are for people, they're for you and me, Bells, you and me…
He runs faster, drops the broken dreams behind him, hates that he still half hopes she will follow the trail.
Bella Cullen stood in front of the full-length mirror in the pale silk dress, twirled gracefully –
- in the confined space, tags fluttering with the light wind her body made.
I'm beautiful and graceful.
She frowned, slipped into another gown, blood red this time.
When she had been Bella Swan she always had always seen an ugly duckling in the mirror. Now that she had taken another name, burned into this other world, well…
Bella lifted up a strange, melting sadness with the corners of her lovely mouth. The irony was not lost on her.
Strange Fairytale, Carlisle/Esme
It's a strange fairytale that starts with a broken leg, an even stranger one that has its princess marry another man once she has met her prince.
And then the baby, the little baby boy dead, hope and happiness squeezed out of the world like it's just a dishcloth in mother's strong hands.
The princess cheats death, no, death cheats her, that's how it feels, and that is when the prince returns and she finds that ten years have not dulled the memory of his perfect loveliness.
He smiles tenderly, tears at her flesh.
They live happily ever after.
Bella looked up, surprised. "You've read Romeo and Juliet?"
Jacob grinned. "Don't get too excited Bells, school made me do it."
She eyed him curiously. "Did you like it?"
He paused for a moment, considering. "Actually yeah, it was interesting. I was expecting it to be like a fairytale, some great love of all time crap."
"You don't think it's about a great love?"
He rolled his eyes. "'You're pretty, I'm in love with you forever, let's die.' Not my idea of romance."
Bella bit her lip, fought a sudden urge to ask Jacob what his idea of romance was.
For The First Time, Jacob/Bella
It's not always a prince, Bella reminds herself. Sometimes there's a knight in shining armor – no shirt, no shoes – who rides up on a white horse, – black motorcycle – whisks the girl away from her wicked stepmother – crushing loss, despair – and rides off into the sunset with her – into the sunlight.
She thinks all of this while Jacob talks and now he is looking up at her expectantly, like he might have asked her a question she didn't hear.
His smile wavers at her approach, drops into Bella when she kisses him for the first time.
White Knight, Jasper/Bella
In this fairytale, the woman is the white knight.
Alice fizzes and sparks into the diner, eyes finding her charge – snap.
He is broken, weary in this body that does not need rest. She strides toward him, her aim is true.
"You've kept me waiting a long time."
Jasper is polite, awkward, but later, when her body molds itself perfectly to his, he will whisper "Oh Alice, lovely Alice, if I'd known you were in this world I would have been running to you from the day I was born."
Alice will smile into his lips, whisper back "You were."
Madly, Hopelessly, Jacob/Leah
This isn't the happy ending Leah was promised.
The wolf stole her heart – Sam – away from her, the wolf was supposed to give it – somebody – back.
She was supposed to imprint, forget everything, leave the pain behind.
Instead here she is, madly, hopelessly in love with Jacob Black and as Nessie's sixth birthday approaches, Leah knows it doesn't matter how many times Jacob arches into her, gasps her name at her neck – Leah, love – swears he only wants her, only her, forever…
Leah knows this isn't happily ever after, knows it's only for now.
All Hers, Emmett/Rosalie
It was supposed to be Edward and Rosalie, prince and princess.
But when he came to her she was a broken thing, angry and wild, the clean stains of bloodless murder on her fingers, all snarls and stony silences.
Not exactly the way sweet, meek Cinderella shouldered her woes.
Rosalie is smug as she watches Bella Swan gaze dreamily at her handsome prince, thinks And I was never plain enough to be Cinders anyway.
She reaches out, grips Emmett's strong arm and he turns.
He's not a prince. He's part court jester, part burly guard…
… all hers.
Jacob The Alchemist, Jacob/Nessie
"Rumplestiltskin!" A shrill voice sounded. "Where is my first born?! Or only born," Bella huffed, as she peered into the woods. "I know you're in there! I can smell you! And the giggles don't help, Renesmee!"
Jacob was teaching Nessie to climb trees. Bella disapproved - she assumed her child would be accident-prone like her mother.
Wrong. Nessie was a natural.
She frowned mid-swing. "What are Rumpy silk skins?"
"Rumplestiltskin." Jacob grinned. "Your mom's calling me that cos I can turn straw into gold."
She gasped. "Really?"
Jacob chuckled, shook his head.
Nessie smiled shyly. "I think you could, probably."
Dreams Like These, Bella
In Bella's nightmares the paper-cut is a pin-prick.
Alice is an old crone holding a silver package, cackling vilely amid the good fairies.
Edward leaves with Carabosse, takes his kisses with him.
A slim needle, a little blood, an eternity of sleep and dreams like these.
He makes love to Alice, shuddering rough and smooth in a single bed, this single bed, this one I'm turning in, and Jasper stands by, red-eyed, mouths an empty lullaby and I'm screaming please no God –
She opens her eyes to the dawn -
- sobs her way to a mockery of consciousness.
Special Names, Jacob/Bella
Jacob knocked on the bathroom door, sing-songed "Little pig!"
He heard Bella muttering crossly, smiled to himself, knocked again. "I'll huff and I'll - "
The door swung open. She glared at him, hands on hips.
"Jacob Black, you will not make "little pig" your special name for me."
He grinned. "Aw, but it's perfect. You're cute and small, and when I do this - "
He grabbed her in the blink of an eye, pulled her off the ground and licked a hot line along her neck to her lips where a high-pitched sound escaped.
" – you squeal."
Where are the damn dragons?
Jacob would slay a herd of them for Bella's heart, scale a glass mountain, cut his feet to fit Cullen's pretty shoes…
Kiss her to break the spell? He tried that.
Jacob may be a mythical creature, but this is not a fairytale.
The best he can do is fight what her enemy bred, wind up in bandages, morphine-soaked mind reeling at the memory of her lips, a misplaced smile mixed in with the dulled agony stroking his limbs.
The best he can do is fight for his pack, for her.
It's not enough.
Happy Ending, Jacob/Bella
Rose scrambled over the sand ahead of her mother, threw herself into Jacob's lap. "Bonfire story please!"
He chuckled, opened with 'Once upon a - "
She groaned. "Nooo, not a fairytale. A proper story, like the ones they tell when I go home to bed."
Bella folded her arms. "Jacob, you'll tell her those Quileute myths over my dead body. She'll have nightmares."
"Relax honey," he scoffed. "She's a big girl, she can take it."
Rose grinned up at him, eyes glowing with excitement.
When she turned back to the fire, Jacob mouthed Happy ending, promise to his wife.
"Embwy ith Papa Bear, Leah ith Momma Bear an I'm Baby Bear."
Quil frowned. "Aren't you Goldilocks?"
She attempted to roll her eyes, put her tiny hands on her hips. "I'm Claire-bear, an my hair ith bwown."
Leah smirked. "Yeah Quil." Embry added a Duh.
"You can be Goldilockth," Claire announced.
Quil raised an eyebrow. "Uh…"
Claire gave an exasperated sigh, stomped over to her toy-box and pulled out a Barbie-doll, stomped back, handed it to Quil.
"Now. Leth thtart."
Mixing Things Up, Jacob/Rosalie
Rosalie left the room when Jacob entered. He followed.
She whirled around, topaz eyes flashing fierce. "I told you. You, me and Edward in the same room is not okay. It's hard enough not thinking about it when I don't have to look at you too."
He stepped toward her, grinned when she flinched. "Afraid of the big bad wolf are we Goldilocks?"
He leaned in, nuzzled her too-cold neck, and she kept perfectly still, muttered "You're mixing your fairytales up, silly boy."
Jacob sighed at her lips. "Mmm, isn't that what we do, you and me? Mix things up?"
It doesn't matter that Jacob has seen Bella smile, giggle, flirt in the past. This girl who shows up at his garage with the bikes is new – used, broken, but new nonetheless, with a pale face and pinched lips that have never bubbled up with mirth.
This Bella is the princess who has never laughed, and if he thought a trail of townsfolk doing a conga line after a guy with a golden goose would help, Jacob would be happy to arrange it.
Can you dye birds?
He asks her that one day and a miracle escapes her lips.
Trapped, Rosalie, Bella
When Rosalie closes her eyes she sees Bella Swan clearly, as she is now, and then as she will be in a few short weeks if she gets her way. The images rub together uncomfortably in her mind.
Soft, blood-tinged cheeks, eyes wide, body thrumming with possibility.
Dark-haired, bone pale without a blush, Snow White in the glass coffin.
Rosalie thinks it fits. She knows what it is to be trapped inside this near translucent skin, so perfectly smooth and hard that it sometimes surprises her when she touches her fingers to a window-pane, doesn't hear a clink.
It, Her, Jacob/Bella
It's not her, it's a monster, not her, she's not even like them, she's – it's – killing people, sucking them dry and licking its stone lips, it's not Bella, it's not her, not her, you can do this.
Jacob thinks all of this as he tears through the forest, her – its - dry, piercing scent on the wind.
When he catches the monster it trembles, blooded eyes pleading, whispers Jake.
She shakes herself free, he lets her, watches her run.
The heart of a young boar. A fistful of purple smoke.
He has nothing to bring to the pack.
Princess, Garrett/Kate, Tanya
Tanya and Kate were ahead and Garrett had been enjoying the view till he came bounding up behind them and swept Kate up, carried her over a long stretch of muddy ground and set her down again, whispered "Didn't want your pretty feet getting wet."
She smirked, rolled her eyes. "Oh please Garrett. I'm not a princess."
He grinned wide, wrapped his long arms around her waist. "Oh please Kate. You are to me."
Tanya looked down at the puddles that threatened her new boots, grimaced. A moment later she was waving to them, calling out "I'll be a princess!"
The Lie Of His Name, Jacob/Bella, Jasper/Alice
Alice is brightness and bubbles, a little girl grown up, grown wise, who still somehow believes in fairytales, who looks like she just stepped out of one herself.
Alice is fresh vigor, the shedding of dead skins, she is sparkles in darkness and when Bella watches her with Jasper, she thinks of another J, Jacob, Jacob Black.
She smiles at the lie of his name – Black – when he was always pure sunlight, at the lie of hers – Swan – when she was always an awkward, half-hidden thing.
Bella sighs. She misses Jacob when she watches Alice with Jasper.
People tell Emily that she and Sam are like a fairytale. Even the ones who don't know that his love for her is truly a kind of magic.
People remember the roses, dozens of them, they remember the suddenness of it all.
Love at first sight.
Emily can see their point, but she can't agree.
They are not a fairytale.
There is a mess of reality under the sweetness – her cousin, her best friend – and a nagging half-thought His body binds his heart.
It aches in quiet moments.
But Emily is a practical girl, and loving Sam back makes sense.
Somewhat Random Gift II, Jacob/Bella
This was not like Bella.
But ever since Jacob gave her the damn hoodie she'd been having… thoughts.
She leaned against the bathroom door, breathed in, giggled on the exhale.
When she stepped into the bedroom wearing nothing but the red lace panties and the hoodie, Jacob's eyes widened so much she thought he might pop a blood vessel or two.
Bella walked slowly over to the bed where he sat, bit her lip against nervous laughter.
"My, Jacob, what big eyes you have."
He swallowed, placed his hands on her hips, muttered "All the better to eat you with."
This Is Not A Fairytale, Marcus/Didyme, Gianna
Marcus overhears Gianna gushing to Felix.
"It's just so romantic. Like a fairytale. When you love, you love, no second chances, no safety net. Human emotions, they're so weak, so changeable. How many lovers have I had? Too many." She sighs, heavy and dreamy at the same time. "You vampires could live a thousand lifetimes and keep always to that one other. It's a fairytale, truly."
His jaw clenches, his hands bunch into fists, and suddenly he wants to tear Gianna apart, rip the happily-ever-after out of her.
Devastation, a waste-land in his heart.
This is not a fairytale.
The Right Fit, Leah, Emily
Leah filled five boxes with shirts, dresses, her favorite leather pants, the silky thing she wore on New Year's Eve, whatever, all of it.
Then she drove around to Emily's house and started dumping the boxes at her door.
Emily came out. Leah threw a halter-top at her.
"Here, try this. Sam always liked me in blue."
In the shocked silence, she pulled off her shoes, shoved them in a box. "You may as well take these too, since apparently I'm not the right fit anymore."
When Emily reached out Leah recoiled, hissed "Fuck off Cinderella" as she walked away.
Not Alice's Idea, Edward/Bella
Bella rolled over, reaching blearily for someone who wasn't there.
didn't want to wake my sleeping beauty. I have gone to the mainland
to hunt, and you will get out of bed, yawn and stretch, make your way
into the kitchen... I miss you as I write this, Edward.'
I miss you as I write this,
There was a plate of muffins on the kitchen table, one of which had a neat little card saying 'eat me' tied around it with string.
The accompanying glass of milk was labeled 'drink me' and when Bella turned the card over she laughed.
'No, this was not Alice's idea.'
Claire de Lune, Edward/Bella, Jacob/Bella
Edward is Pierrot. Pale and moonstruck, interminably sad. He is the baker, toiling at night over loaves he can't stomach, peering into the dawn at Columbine's rise, wishing he could follow.
Bella is Columbine. A sometimes-laundress. Little dove, dewy, sweet and widely coveted. (Schoolboys, vampires and werewolves alike.)
Jacob is Harlequin. Bright colors, confidence and easy charm. He lives where the sunshine is and he makes Columbine laugh and laugh. He adores her and she is drawn to him like a magnet.
But in this story, she does not break Pierrot's fragile heart.
She saps the strength of Harlequin's instead.
Something New, Jacob/Nessie
It doesn't take long for 'Nessie' to take over from 'Renesmee', and frankly, Jacob isn't surprised. Even 'The Waterhorse' is cuter than that corny mess Bella came up with.
Still, with everyone using Nessie, he decides he needs something new to set him apart.
They read Peter Pan together and it clicks instantly.
"I'm going to call you Tink from now on."
Nessie frowns. "Why?"
Jake grins, ruffles her curls. "I'm the boy who'll never grow up, because he doesn't want to, and you're my tiny little best friend."
He chuckles to himself, doesn't add that Tinkerbell is scarily possessive.
Fairytales, Fact, Edward/Bella, Jacob/Bella
Vampires are stone in heart. Vampires love like the princes in fairytales, forever and forever the same.
Bella knew this. It was a fact, like the sky is blue (usually, almost always, during the day at least), like cats and dogs walk on four legs (unless one gets chopped off or they just like limping).
Edward loves me forever. Fact.
And yet, she had always felt flickers of impermanence, and a little voice inside crowed when he left.
Even when he came back, it wouldn't shut up, started singing Jacob, Jacob.
The venom silenced it, finally.
Happily ever after. Fact.
There's a noisy bluebird outside Bella's bedroom window. Okay, it isn't really blue blue, more gray. Or brown.
It doesn't matter, in Bella's mind's eye it is a bluebird and in the half-madness of the grief that still consumes her it is Edward.
Vampires are real, werewolves are real…
Jacob can turn into a giant dog, why shouldn't Edward turn into a bluebird, fly home to her, wish he were free from this spell so he could tell her he loves her, he always loved her, it was just a lie, the trickery of an evil sister she never had…
Rosalie has always loved her hair. It was just as beautiful when she was a human - long sheets of golden silk, streaming into perfect half curls at the ends. She hadn't cut it since she was twelve, swore she never would again, took to it with a silver brush every night, one hundred strokes and sweet dreams of Rapunzel's prince.
She misses the dreams when she is turned. They lie broken in gravel far, far below, can't make her sleep to pick them up.
Her pretty hair will never grow down to them.
She will never leave this prison.
It's an ugly thing to be jealous of your own daughter, even when you're as dazzlingly beautiful as Bella now is.
When Jacob half-quotes her, talks about magic and finishes with "like a fairytale", she bristles.
"The Jacob Black I used to know didn't believe in fairytales."
He smiles and she searches frantically for sadness. "The Bella I used to know did."
Jacob nudges her with an easy cheer that claws at her heart.
I never made him happy like this. It would have been so easy. As easy as breathing.
She laughs because she can't cry.
"Yeah, she did."
A Spell, Leah
When it happens, when her world cracks into bits and pieces that shuffle, knit together again before she can remember to breathe, Leah doesn't believe it.
She's been a cynic since birth but she has more faith in Sam than this. It's not real, it can't be. You don't just stop being in love with someone overnight. That's not how it works.
Harry tells her about imprinting, she nods feverishly, understands it as a spell.
And Emily Young is the witch who cast it.
Leah storms into the local library, cries over 'Witchcraft in the Modern World' and 'Grimm's Fairytales'.
Rosalie cherishes a cluster of golden, water-lit memories from her childhood.
thick white sheets, brown blanket, apple and cinnamon with a silver spoon, a storybook, pictures flickering in the hearth, the familiar faraway voice of a flesh and blood mother sounds - 'a youngest daughter, a marvel, beautiful, with pearls and jewels falling from her eyes as she wept'
Rosalie had always been rather enamored of that part of the story. She would sigh sleepily, dreamily, think to herself 'Just imagine, such pretty things for every tantrum!'
Now she sighs very much awake, knows that ordinary tears were riches enough.
Quick, Edward, Nessie
Nessie closed the book, sighed.
"I'd read most of those before. There must be more, right daddy?"
Edward smiled. "Yes indeed, and many that are not in books."
"But… how do you know about them then?"
He leaned in close, whispered "I was there."
Nessie gazed up at him in awe.
"Tell me one."
Edward nodded solemnly.
"Once upon a time there lived a fair princess called Renesmee, and - "
Nessie's eyes narrowed. "There was never a Princess Renesmee. It isn't even a real name, mommy just made it up."
Edward's crooked grin was sheepish. His daughter was quick.
Making Up, Embry/Leah
"Look, I couldn't let them all hear about last night! I had to, you know, strike first."
"You'll notice I was able to control my thoughts without resorting to name-calling." Embry pouted, folded his arms. "And did you have to strike at me?"
Leah giggled, fingers snaking over his shoulders. "Aw, come on, you know you're my favorite wolf-boy."
He sighed, unfolded his arms, and she whispered I'm sorry when he buried his head in her neck.
"How are you gonna make it up to me wolf-girl?"
Leah grinned slowly, bit her lip.
"Three words. Huff… puff… blow."
The Cold Ones, Jacob/Bella
When Jacob first told Bella his people's stories on the beach that day, he never would have thought they'd be fucking fairytales to her.
Even when he'd assumed 'the cold ones' belonged to the realm of myth, nothing more, the stories had still creeped him out when he'd first heard them, Harry Clearwater's face glowing in the black-blue-bright orange light of a bonfire.
But for Bella it had all been corsages and true romance, and now that Jacob knew what she'd known all along – it's all real, jesus – his mind boggled at her pick for Prince Charming.
With One Wave Of Her Magic Wand, Jacob/Bella, Nessie
"Once upon a time there was a princess who had two great loves, two noble princes from different worlds. The princess knew she must choose between them, because living in one world meant renouncing the other.
This grieved her terribly. One day a fairy appeared, said with one wave of her magic wand she would dissolve the barriers between worlds, with another spirit away the princess and the second prince's love, cast a friendship spell instead."
"Did the fairy do it?" Nessie asked.
Bella nodded, smiled tightly, eyes on Jacob in the doorway, heard her daughter softly say "How awful".
Bella tried to remember the lullaby, but she had never been very musical and the sweet notes thrummed inside her somewhere just out of reach.
The thought of the missing CD was agony.
He left me with nothing.
But then she reminded herself that a CD wasn't the real thing anyway, it wasn't his voice, his fingers on keys, and someday, however careful she'd been it would have snapped, scratched, broken like the mechanical nightingale.
She would have been left with nothing again, and he wouldn't have come back to charm death away from her bed, would he?
The Change, Jacob/Bella
Jacob has been dreaming that he is the little German boy in the witch's cage. She's cackling and stoking the fire in the oven and he has no brittle bones to hold out to her to make her wait, nothing.
He wishes he had something he could hold out to Bella that would make her wait.
Please, please, just a little longer, I'm not ready yet, please.
But she'd never fall for it. He's not thin and frail, he's big, strong Jacob Black, always a joke and a smile away from being okay.
(A beat away from snapping in half.)
"It's times like these I sort of wish we still had to eat and drink. Regular food, I mean. You really should be nursing a mug of warm milk."
Jasper grinned. "Would a mug of warm blood do?"
Alice rolled her eyes. "Maybe if we were reading Grimm's stuff and trying to scar you for life…" She cocked her head to one side. "Scar you some more… for eternity. Whatever. We're trying to reclaim your innocence here. Now, lie back, pull the blankets up to your chin."
Jasper chuckled, obeyed. Alice opened the book. "Once upon a time…"
Nicknames, Jacob, Alice
Jacob has to admit it eventually. Alice is sort of cute.
Okay, the perkiness can get a little much sometimes, but in small doses, she's fun.
It's not long before he has a nickname for her. She is "The Pixie". "The Imp" is a variant for when he's pissed off, and "Scary Fairy" is for when he finds himself in fits of laughter over the look on her face, lips in a thin, hard line, eyes narrowed, hands on her non-existent hips and Jacob Black, I'm going to kick your ass.
A scuffle usually ensues, usually ends in mutual giggles.
Three Months, Edward/Bella
When Bella is turned she doesn't speak for three months. Speaking means breathing and the first time she tried that it burned for miles, tempted, yet still made her feel a little faint.
The others lead the hunt. She only inhales when her mouth is at the throat of some beast.
For the first time Bella wishes Edward could read her mind, because he is frightened and she is the little mermaid, finally in his world, still locked out of it, all her soothing words trapped inside.
Three months. She writes him a letter every day.
He cherishes them forever.
Monsters and Magic, Jacob/Bella
If there were no monsters and no magic…
Jacob knows what that means to her. That means 'If my life weren't this breath-taking, better-than-you fairytale, if I wasn't going to live forever with my sparkly friends and my extra-sparkly Prince Charming.'
To him it means 'If my life wasn't this nightmare, always waiting for the bomb to drop – I'm suddenly enslaved by some girl I've never seen, always crouched, cringing at that other fucking nuclear bomb, the one that will make a crater of my world – she turns, all gone…'
Bella sees the magic. Jacob sees the monsters.