𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃

VIII | "We're not traditional material."

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THE AIRPORT IN ITALY WAS A FAMILIAR PLACE SHE HAD BEEN to and from many times in her life. Whether she was rebelling a claustrophobic and strict upbringing. Or she was reconnecting with her sense of sanity outside the Volterra walls. Her go to instinct was to flee in signs of distress and this moment was no different.

Maybe that was why she was so angry Edward had left her. Someone was finally treating her like she treated herself: poorly. And the truth hurt too bad – too deep – to come to terms with. The golden rule for life apparently didn't apply to her.

Margeaux stood at bag check in, mind muddled and frustrated beyond belief. This day seemed to be full of, both, unwanted and wanted surprises.

She was probably layered in the most clothes in the entire airport. Sheltering herself in false protection. Despite her super naturalness, she was just as vulnerable as any human rushing about the terminal.

Her ticket was to France. The Bellerose motherland. Where she felt the most safe in the entire world. It was her comfort for when she was getting anxious. When her lack of control became too much.

And with her ticket and carryon bag in hand, she was expecting to go on this journey alone. Until someone decided to tag along, in the form of a handsome, gallant crusader on a mission.

"Are you trying to run?"

Said sentence was deja vu for her. A rush of euphoria. She felt a pleasant tingle down her spine, causing her blood to involuntarily heat. A blush instantly coating her olive cheeks.

Looking over her shoulder, her breath was stolen from her. "Jasper Whitlock... What do you want to speak about?" She repeated her reply from the night before.

"The attraction, our connection." He shrugged with a smirk, tucking his hands into his pockets as he strided closer.

Margeaux sighed in exasperation. "You wouldn't want me."

He arched a brow, his southern accent curling around his words in a confidence she admired. The man knew what he wanted when he wanted it. "Oh, I highly doubt that."

"I've almost had your friends killed today."

"I was told you spared them," He added, unrelenting.

She bit her bottom lip apprehensively, desperately trying to pull out the strong woman she was before she was triggered tonight. At least, that's what she thought.

Margeaux exhaled a significant blow, giving in for the time being. She was too stressed and wrung dry to be stubborn tonight. "I have an estate in France. My mother's old estate before she passed. It has some land and many rooms for guests to stay..."

Jasper moseyed to her side, never averting his gaze from her magnetizing blue eyes. He gentlemanly, gently grabbed her bag into his hands. "Sounds lovely."

"It could be lonely."

"If you need company, I'd be happy to obliged darlin'."

Her emotions finally calmed to a manageable feat. The endearment wasn't as unexpected as she thought it would be coming from his lips. It felt right. Like a gentle caress. It reminded her of a more loving time. When her mother was giving all her strength to keep a smile on her face. Just so her daughter would know she loved her, despite her declining health.

She dared to tuck the pet name in the sleeve of her heart for when she was most low. A keepsake that proved she was worth being called – darling.

A weight she was struggling to carry around melted when his fiery presence was near. A tangible, soft smile graced her supple cheeks. A warmness emanating between them proudly.

"I certainly wouldn't mind it."

...

The weather was rainy in the countryside of France. Her homeland. Her motherland. It was refreshing and simultaneously strange because a man was by her side. Jasper was a new face, one she didn't know too well yet.

Right now, she didn't know if she could trust him. She felt strongly in her gut that she could. But then again, he kept company of those who betrayed her once before. What does that say about his character? That he's naïve? Untrustworthy? Or capable of offering people like Edward Cullen second chances?

It was all so conflicting. Yet his presence by her side, as he walked with her to the baggage claim, was comforting. Like a wool blanket in the frostbite of winter, he made her feel safe. The way he observed their surroundings. How he held her bags and trailed closely as if to protect her from nonexistent hazards. It set off a warm fuzzy sensation in her stomach. She could only describe it as home.

Nevertheless, she was still anxious to be in his presence. Her recent trigger didn't help either.

"So..." Jasper started, earning her attention, as they waited for their bags. "How come the Volturi let you out of their sights so often."

Marge fidgeted with her jacket, pursing her lips slightly. "They don't, but they can't keep me there and I'm too vital to the Monarchy's cause to get rid of," She bluntly explained but Jasper didn't bat an eye, to which she was pleasantly surprised.

"You're their secret weapon," He appraised and the compliment made her downturned lips quirk just a little.

"Yes," Marge sighed.

"Not so happy about that?"

"How'd you guess? Was it my fleeing the city as fast as I possibly could or the depressive cloud hanging over my head?" Her laugh lacked amusement and sounded far more sad than she'd openly admit. Nevertheless, Jas still appreciated how honest she was about her emotions, not matter what she was feeling. He didn't have to read her aura to know exactly what she was feeling in the moment. The integrity was refreshing.

He bit the inside of his cheek, rotating the ring around his pointer finger. "I... am an empath. And it's telling me that you're not just sad -- you're also nervous." Jasper turned his golden eyes to her warm flushed face, arching an eyebrow. "Do I make you nervous?"

"Please. You're effect, although ever-present, is minute to what I have going on right now." Margeaux rolled her eyes up, pausing when she spotted their luggage. "Enfin." (finally)

The Bellerose grabbed her own, the Empath following suit. They started making their way down to the terminal for pick up. Their strides evenly matched, shoulders brushing from the closeness. Jasper amusedly shook his golden head, speeding up to hold the glass doors open for her.

The night covered them while the rain kept them under cover of the overhang. Cars and taxis passed by looking for passengers to take to their next destination. Margeaux glanced around for a certain someone, leaning against the wall with Jasper right by her side.

He parted his lips casually, adjusting the leather duffle bag over his shoulder. "Would it help if I told you I shared your nerves?"

Margeaux flickered her opal eyes to his handsome profile until he met gazes with her expectantly. She blushed, glancing to her shoes. "We are supposedly strangers, so it'd only make sense."

"Well, we'll have to change that, won't we?"

"Yeah," She breathed, feeling her heart pick up despite her apprehension fading. They stared at each other for a passing moment and the chemistry was palpable. Surely, he must've felt it. Margeaux felt like she just ran a marathon without moving a muscle. These little pauses in time were tangible magic. Instances she wanted to bottle up and keep for memorabilia.

Shaking her head of her dazed stupor, she forewarned. "Be aware, I'm no where near spotless --"

"Stop devaluing yourself. You're not an object, you don't need an extended warranty. And you certainly don't have to sell yourself to me."

Margeaux was speechless for once, closing her mouth with a furrow in her brow. "Tu as raison. I just -- being around people who base your value on your gifting's... It's habit to tell your faults from the start so they can't hold it against you." (you're right) She bit her tongue from explaining herself even further by way of rambling.

It wasn't like her to ramble; yet, here she was over complicating what could be a short reply just to settle her mind. It was certainly possible to overthink and she was trying to stop herself from doing it right now. Harder said than done.

"Anyway," She quickly switched subjects. "I called a friend of mine to pick us up, so hopefully they'll be here soon."

Margeaux and Jasper glanced around and it wasn't but a few minutes before they spotted a sign held up for Bellerose. The Southern vampire watched as Marge lit up at the sight of the tall, lean man. Curly, dark brown hair with circular glasses and a curious mood.

They walked up to him and Marge smiled gently, which was a complete contrast to her caddy attitude in Volterra. "Bonsoir, Benjamin. Comment vas-tu?" (Good evening, Benjamin. How are you) They embraced, sharing chaste kisses to the cheeks before parting.

"Bien, maintenant que je peux vous sortir de la tempête!" (Good, now that I can get you out of the storm)

Benjamin grinned, immediately turning to Jasper to enthusiastically shake his hand. Jasper could tell he was slightly caught off guard by the temperature of his skin and he frankly nodded his head, fighting the bloodlust like he had been the entire flight to France. "Bonjour, monsieur..?"

"Oh, this is monsieur Jasper. He is a friend of mine and will be staying with us," Margeaux lightly touched Jaspers chest to introduce them, her cheeks blushing. She put that up to the chilly weather outside.

Benjamin arched his brows with cheeky intrigued. "Ah! A man friend, eh? Donna sera ravie. Come, come."

"Shush!" Rolling her eyes, Marge ushered her guest towards Benjamin's brown car. Jasper held his jacket over her head without a second thought, shielding her from the downpour. She sent him an appreciative smile at the gesture, sliding in the backseat to make room for him to join.

As soon as they were settled inside, Ben took off down the slick roads. Margeaux turned to face Jasper, curling her raven black hair behind her ear. "Benjamin and his wife, Donna, stay at my estate to keep it up when I'm away."

"Les Carrie's séjournent à Bellerose depuis des générations," Benjamin stated, turning the wheel smoothly to get out of the heavy traffic.

"Yes. He's talking about how I've basically had five generations of Carrie's living in my home. Donna's great, great grandmother was my mother's loyal companion during the London season in the nineteen hundreds. I tracked them down after she died and found them living in poor conditions... they've been living with me ever since." It was another guilty regret her mother had left behind, that she promised to redeem. Another deed that made Margeaux feel closer to her deceased and beloved Valerie.

Jasper leant forward, lowering his voice. All the while, Marge concealed her arousing shiver, scrunching her nose. "So they are aware..?" He sent her a knowing look, briefly averting his eyes from her plush lips.

"Oui," Margeaux murmured tersely, jaw clenching.

"And the Volturi don't know?"

Fiercely, she faced him. A serious expression marring her startling blue eyes. If Jasper were vocal about it, he'd tell her just how much she attracted him in this moment. "No, and they don't need to. The only difference between Edward and I, is that he was foolish enough to get caught. Then again, he was never good at being inconspicuous."

Jasper felt the corners of his lips curling into a malevolent smile, grasping his chest in false heartbreak. "Ouch, darling. You're secrets safe with me."

"Let's hope so," Her eyes narrowed before turning to the sheets of rain roughly hitting the window, blurring the outside from the inside. A metaphorical for how she was feeling in this moment, like she was shifting personas to a more desirable and manageable feat. From ruthless leader to... someone more homely.

It was crazy what a setting -- an atmosphere -- could do to one's behavior. The effect a surrounding could have an individual. Right now, she was feeling like a bird taking flight, even in the pouring rain. Springing from the branch and soaring amongst the clouds with the wind in her feathers, touching the chill of the morning. Margeaux took a deep breath in and finally relaxed against the patented seats, closing her eyes with a new serenity.

At the sight of his gift taking affect on her, Jasper too settled in his seat. Their hands barely meeting in the middle, ghosting next to each other, igniting sparks.

Benjamin smiled to himself after checking the rearview, pulling up on a rounded driveway to a two story house.

With it's grey bricks and cream colored window panes covered in beautiful wisteria. Each window had a symmetrical way about it, cornered in with wrought iron French balconies. Hedges that were trimmed every weekend that were covered in white roses and thorns. And a cobble stone path leading to a grand, dark wood door with a lion head for a knocker.

"Bienvenue à nouveau, Mlle Margeaux, au manoir Bellerose." (Welcome back, Miss Margeaux, to the Bellerose Manor)

As soon as they pulled up, the front door opened. The front lawn lights illuminated the resident. A woman with dark brown hair tied up in a curly pony tail greeted them. With eyes as deep as the sea and a smile warmer than the sun. A little girl was there too, similar in appearance minus the blonde tresses, wedged between her legs, eyes wide with wonder and anticipation.

Margeaux got out of the car without hesitation. Her hair was instantly damp, then drenched, when she stepped out. Her inhibitions long forgotten as she sped walked up to the little girl with the broad smile Jasper had ever seen on her.

"May I ask, who is that?" Jasper asked Benjamin as the man took the keys out of the car. They looked on as Marge was meekly embraced by the four year old, kissing her cheeks with pert, rosy lips.

"Fleur, tu es si grande et si belle," Margeaux exclaimed emotionally, curling her finger around the girl's blonde locks. (Flower, you are so big and beautiful)

"The little girl? Oh, c'est Daisy. Donna and I's daughter." Ben smiled as propped the door open with Jasper following along. "Mlle Margeaux last saw her when she was in diapers, three years ago."

"What made her leave?" He spoke rhetorically, not necessarily asking for answer. Marge just looked exceedingly happier here and they only just arrived. Jasper wondered what could tear her away from such a place that brought her such peace.

"Le Roi," Ben spoke with dread, sharing a enigmatic expression with the Southern immortal before patting his shoulder. "We should get the bags in the house before were trempé!" (The King / soaked)

"Right," Jasper muttered distractedly, following Ben to the boot of the car as the ladies scampered inside. His thoughts curious and even more so, calculative.

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Written Unedited 06 December. 2021

Surprise! Those of you who don't know Donna Magnolia Carries story, won't know the significance of her being this story, but don't worry! She's not a major factor in this story, just a supporting character. I tend to put her in every Twilight story I write because she was originally from You, Me and Penny Green and we all fell in love with her.

So you'll find her in Time's Temptress, You, Me and Penny Green, and this book. Every version of her story is different. Just think of it as an Easter egg/ multiverse situation. If you do know Donna, please, no spoilers (UNLESS MARKED AS A SPOLIER) for those who haven't read the other books.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm still getting the hang of writing Jasper and Margeaux's relationship/dynamic. The back and forth will get easier as they progress.

Let me know your thoughts! Comment, Vote! Xx

Next Update: Saturday