𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃

VI | "Then, there was one."

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SPRING. NINETEEN TEN

A SPORADIC COUGH AND A HURRENDOUS WHEEZE CALLED OUT INTO THE SILENCE. It was a horrible thing to hear when your life was endless. The sound of death lingering behind the door of what was a great, vivacious woman.

Margeaux could understand it perfectly, even in only her second year of life. Her mind had enhanced, just like her body. And something that was only meant for little minds to experience and quickly forget – Margeaux would forever remember the day her mother died.

She stood just outside the door. Short and thin, draped in black robes that shadowed her figure. Technically, she was supposed to be two. But her age hadn't stopped its progression. She could fool anyone to think she was age ten. Just because she looked mature for her age, didn't mean she was mature. It was one thing her family had often forgotten.

Tugging down the golden handle, Margeaux peeked into the room with droopy blue eyes. An innocent frown decorating her enchanting features. She was sullen, as she looked upon her mother bed ridden.

Valerie's once onyx black hair had lost all color and sheen. It hung limp against her pillows, framing a hollow face – deeply ashen. Margeaux couldn't remember her mother beautiful. Even the day she was born, the woman was worn and frail.

It was such a devastating sight to see. Children were never meant to witness such heartbreak, yet here she was, at the side of her bed. Valerie could always sense when her daughter was near. Maybe it was a motherly instinct or magic, as Valerie liked to tell to Margeaux during her nighttime stories.

She shifted in the bed, ever so slowly turning her head towards the right to see her daughters face. Little Margeaux fiddled with the blankets, which were damp from her mother's sweat. Her lip between her teeth as she held in her thick tears.

"Avez-vous mangé, chérie?" Valerie's voice was hoarse, dry and strained. Almost like she had to force her words through a grinder to get them out. It was far more real and harsh on Marge's supernatural ears. (have you eaten, darling)

Margeaux meekly nodded her head, remembering the plain sandwich and glass of water Felix had crafter for her. It wasn't memorable enough to mention, so she moved on from the subject. "Allez-vous me quitter?" (are you going to leave me)

The mortal Bellerose grimaced in the form of a frown. Her frail hand inched out of the blanket and lightly touched her daughters cheek. It was a ghostly touch. Margeaux was worried the hand would crumble and the image her mind created made her eyes widen in fear.

"Who told you that," Valarie spoke in English. Marge knew whenever she spoke English she was displeased.

"Papa m'a dit que tu étais en train de mourir et de me dire au revoir." (Father said you were dying and to say my goodbyes) Margeaux's eyes blurred, her lower lip wobbling as she glanced to the ornate ceiling with its hand painted cherubs and chariots. What a poor luxury to have when you can't take it with you to the grave.

Valerie clasped her fingers around her daughters chin, directing her sorrowful, chubby face where she could see it.

"Listen to me," She whispered. "Peu importe où je vais, je serai dans ton cœur et ton esprit pour toujours. Remember what Marcus told you. Your kind is puissant! Mind and heart." (no matter where I go, I will be in your heart and mind forever/ powerful!)

Her green eyes bore into that of her mini-image, confident and sure. Marge never forgot how well her mother carried illness. She was a force to be reckoned with in spirit and it made up for how weak she was physically. "Vous ne serez pas seul... I'm sorry for failing you as a mother. I should have kept you safe. Maman était égoïste..." (you will not be alone/ mommy was selfish)

"It is my greatest regret..." Valerie choked.

The little Bellerose didn't think much of her mother's repentance. She didn't fully understand the context. However, to make up for her lack of understanding, she crawled onto the bed and snuggled into her side. Her sniffles echoed around the room and it deeply broke Valerie's heart.

Her hands combed through her daughter's raven tresses, comforting her as much as she could. Singing a low, melodic tune to persuade her girl to sleep.

Marge reluctantly closed her eyes with a heavy longing, and when she woke an hour later, her mother was gone.

There was one less Bellerose in the world and the loss was felt greatly.

...

PRESENT DAY

Margeaux Bellerose walked the garden on the Volturi grounds in the brisk of the morning. Dew still clung to every leaf and flowery petal in remembrance of the cool night.

Her mind was heavy today with indecision. A battle waged on inside of her. Between her father and her mother, both fearsome rulers, both relentless to their cause. She needed the alone time to sort out the winner and fresh air was the best way to achieve it.

The talk she had with Jasper was additionally troubling. He added an obstacle she wasn't expecting. Would he still want to be around her -- get to know her -- after executing Edward and Bella's justice? Her hands were dirty, she had killed many many people. Innocent and guilty alike. What she didn't know; however, was Jasper has had his own past. He was no saint either.

Margeaux walked towards the edge of the garden, which overlooked the homes of Volterra, Italy. With its old brick buildings and terracotta tiled roofs. Milky blue sky and bright green trees. This was probably one of the most beautiful places she had ever been. Yet, it was also her most hated place to live. There were eyes on her all the time. Unwanted and pervasive.

Even now, as she leant against the cobble stone ledge, she felt a presence behind her. Waiting and watching for an opening to speak -- give their less than desirable opinion.

"You are deep in thought, Margeaux." A male voice. Old, baritone and bored, elongated with every syllable. Being in his company was a complete change from other Volturi. She spent most of her time with him, expect her father. Where they simply sat in the library, existing in the same space without saying more than two sentences. He once said she reminded him of Didyme -- his deceased mate -- by her looks and relation to Aro.

Marge felt herself relax at the reveal of Marcus, glancing at him over her shoulder.

"I have much to think on and little time."

"Thus is the makings of a judge and a ruler," He spoke matter-a-fact. She sighed in a agreement, to which he continued. "If I may, provide my counsel..."

The Bellerose chuckled, crossing her arms over her chest. "This is probably the most you've ever spoken, so by all means."

An expression that tried to resemble an amused, small smile, ghosted over his face. Margeaux took it as a win. "Mercy is not a natural quality of your father, that you contrived from your mother. It is what earned his affection from the start."

"There is so much pressure to choose wisely." Her mother's words resounded in her head. Laying in that bed, full of regret and sadness. It was that moment Margeaux realized the core of her fears, sprouting from when she was a child. She didn't want to be her mother. Alone in a room, full of anguish, sickness and affliction.

Marcus hummed under his breath knowingly, pursing his lips in a tired assertion. "Heavy is the head, my dear."

Laying a gentle hand on her shoulder, he left her presence thereafter. It was brief, but it was telling. She didn't grow replused from his touch. It was fatherly, probably more so than her own biological father. What he said had revealed the winner of her mind faster than she could by herself. Maybe she did need the company and maybe... maybe she did need Jasper too.

"Miss, your guests have arrived." A guard announced, stirring her from her stupor.

Margeaux turned, her cape flaring in protest to the sudden change. Biting her dark tainted lip, she took in a deep breath and settled her nerves. "Call everyone to the throne room and... have the guest wait before the doors. I'll be there shortly."

"Very well."

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Written Unedited 30 November. 2021

You'll find out that I vary the lengths of my chapters depending on the message I'm trying to send. I hope you enjoyed it though. Writing the moment between Valerie and young Margeaux hit me in my feelings. Did you get a little emotional?

The 7th of December is the last of the week long everyday uploads! I'll have a new schedule now.

Wednesdays and Saturdays!❤

Let me know what you think by comments, votes! Xx