Author's Note: This is the first Twilight fanfiction I've written. I have a feeling it will turn into an epic story about the Volturi and the fallout from 'Breaking Dawn'... however it will remain focused on the couples we don't usually see much of... Carlisle/Esme, Emmett/Rosalie and Alice/Jasper. Hope you enjoy...

Warnings: None, really.

Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer... all the characters are her creation.


In the small town of Forks, Washington, there is a house which stands someway apart from the rest of the buildings – a house which is set into the hills and forests of the wild surrounding countryside. It is large and designed in a comparatively modern style, featuring airy, spacious rooms and mammoth windows calculated to let in as much light as possible. This would be difficult since Forks is known as one of the wettest and cloudiest places in America – however on the rare days that the sun does shine, the entire house is flooded with blazing light.

Come a little closer and you can see figures dotted in and around this dwelling. The house is clearly inhabited... there are cars in the driveway including a red convertible, a bright yellow Porsche and a silver Volvo.

Around the rear of the house there is a sizeable, lush garden which has clearly been lovingly tended by a skilled hand. The garden is bordered by the forest on almost every side, and beneath a large tree are two figures... a man and a girl. The girl does not look more than seven years old and the man beside is maybe in his late teens. They are sitting on a blue checkered picnic blanket which is spread over the grass and both their heads are bent over books. Fiery bronze curls spill out over the girl's slender shoulders and reach right to her waist, her skin is almost unnaturally pale and appears to have a slightly luminescent quality to it. The man sitting next to her has messy hair of such a similar shade it would not be presumptuous to assume they are related somehow. Even sitting down we can tell he is fairly tall, with a slender yet muscular figure and skin of a similar tone to the girl beside him.

There is a terrace running along the rear of the house, adjacent to the garden, and sitting in a wooden loveseat in one corner are two more people – again a man and a woman. Their skin is the same hue as the couple under the tree, however the woman has long, bright blonde hair which contrasts strongly with the short, dark curls of the man. The woman's legs, long, lean and clad in dark blue denim jeans, are dangling over the arm of the loveseat, her head in the man's lap. He is absent-mindedly stroking her cheek gently, his eyes gazing off into the distance. We cannot tell the colour of the woman's eyes, however the man's are a peculiar but beautiful shade of gold.

Inside, through the french windows, we find ourselves in the spacious living room, which has stylish and comfortable-looking white sofas spread out in various positions. There is a large flatscreen television mounted on one wall, it is currently showing a programme which appears to be about models. The woman sitting curled up in the corner of one of the sofas opposite the screen could easily be on the show. Her short, dark hair is cut in a pixie-crop, and strands are falling into her eyes, which are the same strange shade of gold as the man outside on the loveseat. She is flicking through a fashion magazine, alternately switching her attention between the pages and the television. Occasionally she lifts her gaze and says something to another woman standing by the french windows, her voice tinkling and light, sounding almost like bells.

The woman by the windows doesn't seem at all interested in either the programme, or whatever the other woman is telling her. She is gazing at the couple under the tree, just visible in the distance, a small smile on her beautiful face. Like the girl on the sofa, she also has dark hair and golden eyes, however her hair falls in long, thick waves to the small of her back. She is standing unnaturally still, not even shifting her weight from foot to foot.

A man wanders into the room, his movements graceful and fluid. It seems to be not even a second since he appeared in the doorway, yet suddenly he is sitting next to the girl on the sofa, although the room is large. This man has beautiful facial features like all the other inhabitants of the house, the same pale skin and golden eyes. His hair is almost the same shade as his eyes, a honey-gold and curly. From the way he slides an arm around the waist of the girl on the sofa we can safely assume they are a couple.

Just outside of the sitting-room there is a hallway, and across the hallway there is another large room. Bookcases span the walls, giving it the look of some sort of library. There are a couple of brown leather couches in the centre of the room, and a coffee table with a pile of medical journals stacked on one corner. A man sits on one sofa, seemingly engrossed in reading – a notepad and fountain pen are laid next to him and occasionally he breaks off from his studies and scribbles a note or two on the paper. His short blonde hair is of a paler shade than the man in the sitting-room, probably closer to the woman on the terrace. His looks could easily earn him a job as one of the best-paid models in the world, as he has wide golden eyes, a straight nose and full lips. He is conservatively dressed in a light blue jumper with a powdery white scarf slung casually around his neck, dark slacks and white socks. Just across the room, sitting at a desk in the corner, a woman is concentrating on blueprints of buildings. Sheafs of paper are scattered all around her. Her hair is a lustrous brown, falling in soft waves to just below her shoulders, and is shot through with natural caramel highlights. Her golden eyes are fixed on her calculations and a pale, slender hand rests on the surface of the desk, her fingers tapping an absent-minded rhythm occasionally.

There is virtually no noise in the house (apart from the muted sound of the television in the living room), everything is peaceful and quiet. It is probably about three o'clock in the afternoon sometime in early fall judging from the appearance of the light and the small piles of leaves that have appeared under several trees in the garden. Due to the fact that each person in the house has the same unnaturally pale skin and golden eyes they appear to be a family.

Casting away from this idyllic scene we can travel about twenty miles away, to an isolated spot in the middle of the forest. The trees are thick and crowd closely around the three cowled figures standing in a clearing.

All three are standing unnaturally still, in a similar manner to the woman standing at the french doors back at the house.

It is difficult to tell, but from their appearance, one of these figures appears to be female, the others male. The man on the left towers over the other two. His dark robe, almost identical to the robes the other two are wearing, appears to be straining slightly at the seams due to his incredibly muscular physique. The figure in the middle of the three is the female. A couple of stands of pale-blonde hair are falling out of her cowl and onto her shoulders. From her small stature and slightly undeveloped womanly figure she is maybe around twelve or thirteen years of age. The boy standing beside her on the right doesn't seem much older. Both of them are wearing robes of an even darker hue than the man on the left. It is difficult to be certain, but beneath their cowls their skin is the same icy colour as the inhabitants at the house and their eyes are an unnerving crimson colour.

The view snaps back to the petite, dark-haired woman on the sofa, whose beautiful head suddenly flies up – her eyes faraway and distant, as if gazing into some other world.

'They're here,' she says.

I hope you enjoyed the preface. Chapter One is virtually already written, so... enjoy when it comes! Reviews make my life happier... xxx