Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The ripples created by even the tiniest of the pebbles have the potential of creating the biggest changes. All it takes is one second, one change, and the world will never be the same. Everything can change.

In a forgotten corner of the world, a butterfly flaps its wings, and somewhere else, some time else, a hurricane begins to form.

Set the scene.

The Trojan War is brewing on the horizon, Greece against Troy, a war fought for beauty by heroes for kings. The Dawn of Gods, the Golden Age for the Olympians… And yet, yet creatures of dreams and nightmares lurk in the shadows. On the East of the continent, the shadow of the Romanian Coven falls upon humans and vampires alike. Fear is used as a weapon, humanity paralyzed by the certainty of their mortality. And the vampires? The cruelest of their kind relish on the chaos, seeding it and spreading it throughout Europe, Asia and Africa. It is not the Age of Men, not the Age of Progress.

It is needless chaos and disorder. It is lawlessness at it’s finest.

Chaos prevails, but Nature is not to be bound by such things. Soon the pieces are set in motion, for how could there be chaos without order? Lawlessness without the law?

Balance is only natural, and thus, Nature plans.

In one world, Nature plans within its boundaries. Order is brought forth, but soon it becomes obvious that the balance is precarious, that even the slightest of the pressures can send the scales tumbling down.

This is not the story of that world.

In this world, Nature dares to presume. It reaches beyond its own boundaries, beyond what is natural, beyond even the confines of life and death.

In another world, Nature plays the game with the pieces given. In this world, Nature cheats for it plays to win.

Deep within a forest that has long disappeared from the records of men, bright red eyes snap open to the encouragements of a childish voice. Three millennia later a ten year old dreams of change and of strangers with crimson eyes.

Chapter Text

Death was complicated.

There were no wrap-ups, no clean breaks. Not when it came early, not when it came with violence. No, this kind of death was all messy ends, all broken edges. It wasn’t the kind of death that was ‘quicker and easier than falling asleep’, not the painless slip into the the beyond. It was not a kind death. It was painful and drawn out, desperation and fear slowly gripping one’s lungs.

This was the kind of death she had known, the kind of death that changed people even more than dying did, she knew this well. It had been an accident, a mistake. The wailing of her friends, the calls for help, the panicked breaths of the stranger that had inadvertently taken her life. She had not been supposed to die this way, she had not been supposed to suffer as life left her with every breath. Young and healthy, the world had been at her feet, possibilities cropping up at every corner. She had so much potential, and it all had been extinguished by one drunk mistake. Not hers, or her friends, mind you, but a stranger’s .

Her fate had been sealed by someone who had decided to throw common sense and common law out the window, and she had suffered for it.

Her death was complicated, painful, messy .

Reincarnation had not been part of her expectations, she had not believed it was even an option . Oblivion, heaven, hell, purgatory, Hades, there were endless possibilities, and reincarnation? Reincarnation was strange. Not one she would have chosen.

She had known it had been a possibility, known it’s principles, but when it came down to it? She had not believed it could be possible.

She had been wrong, so utterly and fantastically wrong .

On her first life, her eyes had closed just as the ambulance arrived, a tad too late, a second too slow. Her last breath had been drawn, her last words pronounced, she had died.

Then there was darkness, darkness that she believed to be oblivion, the nothingness many feared. Oppressive silence and despairing solitude, but that terrible terrible reality hadn’t lasted long. Soon the unchangeable changed, she heard voices. They were muffled, intangible, just out of reach, but they were voices, they were proof that she wasn’t alone . At that moment she could have cried, because while she wasn’t an extrovert by any means, she wasn’t one to be alone. So she wished, oh how she wished not to be so so alone .

That was when she learned that the phrase ‘ be careful for what you wish for ’ holds more truth than one would expect.

Out of nothingness came the pain, the constriction of movement she hadn’t known she had until it was gone. Suddenly, she was being pushed . Down, down, down she went, down into the rabbit hole. Unable to scream, unable to move, all she could do was wait, wait, wait .

That is how she came into the world, naked and afraid. She had been terrified, but to those around her, she had been nothing more than another screaming newborn. They weren’t wrong per se, the terror reverted her to the most primal of dispositions, seeking warmth, contact, safety .

As soon as she found what she was searching for, snuggled in her new mother’s chest, she quieted, primal instincts appeased by the comforts of safety.

Tired by the ordeal, she soon found herself slipping into a dreamless sleep.

She didn’t know where she was, who she was with or she why was she alive after she had clearly died, but she knew she was safe , and that was all that mattered.

The period after that was blurry , to say the least. The pain of birth had given her an awareness her newborn brain had not been able to handle, so it hadn’t. Her memories of the months after her rebirth were nonexistent, blurs of nothingness among a sea of pre-existing memories.

For the first two years of her life, Oriana Blanco was like any other child. Curious, adorable, sociable. Then awareness hit.

Awareness came suddenly and violently, appearing from nothingness and overcoming everything on it’s path. It rattled her brain, and changed the bright innocent child she had been. How could it not? From one moment to another, she had remembered what it meant to be mortal, what it meant to die . Oriana was all of two on her new life when she was hit with the reality of her situation.

She would never see her family again, she would never again laugh with her friends, argue with her sister, cook with her mother, dance with her father. The loss of an entire world was beyond what one would dare to imagine, and soon after the realization the grief set in.

Later, when Oriana would look back to her childhood she would marvel at her new parent’s resilience, because not once in all their struggles did they give up on her. Not even when she had given up on herself, did her new parents falter and she was thankful . Oh so thankful , because without their constant support, she didn’t know if she would have been capable to overcome her grief. While she prided herself in being adaptable, resilient, prone to change; she could only handle so much stress before breaking. Her parents made sure that she would not break, they surrounded her with unconditional love and safety, they made sure to remind her that even if she had lost everything she once loved, she was not alone .

Little by little, she was brought out of the depths of her grief, little by little life returned into her eyes and with it came a fierce determination to live , to do what she had not been allowed to do before.

“Daddy?” Childish voice called out as blue eyes focused on the book she was reading, A detailed recounting of the Venezuelan War of Independence .

Tiny fingers rubbed over the page, as if to make sure that what she had seen had not been changed by a trickster after publication. It had to be a joke, it had to be. It just didn’t make sense .

“Yes, Ori?”

“When was the Venezuelan Declaration of Independence adopted? Like, what month and day?”

“If I remember correctly, it was July 7th, 1811. Why do you ask?”

“Doesn… No reason.” Shaking her head, she sent her father a smile and focused her attention on the book in front of her, a frown on her face.

The date was wrong, she knew that. The Venezuelan Declaration of Independence was adopted by seven of the ten provinces of the Captaincy General of Venezuela on July 5th, 1811. The date was different, different by two whole days . What had caused the change? What had caused the provinces to decide to declare their Independence two entire days after they had on her previous world? Why had this happened? Inconsistencies like that one could change history, change entire civilizations…

If something as big as an Independence Day was different, what was to say that nothing else was? Had the Mayan fallen a year later than they should have? Had the Salem Witch Trials gone differently? Had the Mongols conquered a different geographic region? Had Africa been divided differently during the Age of Imperialism? Was there a pharaoh in Ancient Egypt she didn’t know about? Had the rise and fall of apartheid gone differently?

Looking at the book , she ran a finger over the letters on the page and wondered . Wondered what else had changed, and how those changes had affected culture, politics, the arts . She wondered how these small, inconsequential shifts had changed the world .

Blue eyes glared intently into the, the family computer willing it to work faster, to submit to her will. To her parents, who were watching her fondly from the couch, the scene was absolutely adorable . How could it not be? At ten years old, Oriana knew she painted an adorable picture. She had a childish face framed by curly light brown hair. Paired with her big blue eyes and tanned skin from endless hours spent under the Floridian sun lend itself for a cute kid. She knew this, and usually she did not hesitate to use her appearance for her benefit.

But now? Now she wasn’t trying to be cute, she didn’t want to be cute , she wanted the dinosaur computer in front of her to work. Dammit ! She had been so happy when her parents had told her they had bought a family computer, but she had forgotten when she had been reborn, as she, admittedly, tended to do. Going to class, spending time with her friends, dinners with her parents... Routine made her forget that she no longer was in 2018, that technology had not caught up to her standards, that by all definitions she was stranded in the past .

She had years to go before the world would once again be at her fingertips, years before information would come forth at the flick of her fingers, and it frustrated her beyond words. She already had to hide her unnatural understanding of the world, wary of what this strange new world would do with a child that acted like a college student. Hidden as she was, she had hoped she would be able to find release in the Internet. To find a refugee on the familiar, on the known .

She had hoped for so much, but the slow progress she had made googling the daily news showed that the Internet would not be her ally in her quest to unraveling the mysteries of the world, that it would not be the safe haven she had so ardently desired and it frustrated her.

Things were different in this strange new world. Culture, politics, history were all unlike what she had known , and she wanted to know why . Without the Internet as her helper, the research would be a much more arduous task.

Glaring at the computer petulantly, she erased the search history, closed the window and turned the computer off with a huff. Pouting petulantly at her parents’ laughter, she stuck her tongue out at them childishly.

While technically she was thirty years old, she was stuck on a ten year old body, so she would milk her youth until she could not do so any longer.

“Don’t be mean! I wanted to read the news in the new computer, but it’s taking too long,” whining, she threw herself dramatically into the nearest couch. “I can’t wait that long! I would go all gray before it loaded!”

Her father’s laughter rang clearly on the silent room, and she hid a satisfied smile with one of the couches pillows. She liked it when she made her parents happy, when she made them laugh. They deserved it.

“Patience is important when it comes to computers, Ori. It may take long, but the wait is worth it,” her father said. “But we guessed that this would happen. We also bought you a couple of books that we thought would interest you.”

Eyes lighting up, she jumped up from her dramatic pose. That kind of bribe was something she would stop her dramatics for.

“Really?!”

“They are in your room,” smiling indulgently, her mother reached for her arms and pulled her into a warm hug. “Happy tenth birthday, dear.”

“Thank you! I love you two so much,” beaming at them, she returned her mother’s hug.

That is why she loved her parents. They understood and loved her, her oddities and quirks included. They loved her, even when they didn’t understand where her love for culture, history and politics had come from. As engineers, they had expected for her to be interested in mathematics, in science. They did not see the dead girl that had put her everything into studying politics in order to help the world turn into a better place. They did not see the girl that went all starry eyes at the mention of foreign cultures, of history she had yet to learn. They didn’t know who she had been, but they still loved her for who she was .

“Yeah, yeah, we know Ori. We love you too,” sighing happily at her parents’ words, she gave her mother a last squeeze and let go of the hug, mind distracted with the endless possibilities that the books could offer.

From the moment she had escaped the stupor she had fallen in after her memories ahd struck, she had slowly become aware that her new world was inherently different to her old one. Little things didn’t add up, a date there, a historical figure over there.

History was different, and if it had changed, what about the culture? The geopolitics? What about ? The research potential was huge , and she wanted to know how , she wanted to know when , but more importantly, she wanted to know why . Why was this new world different? What had caused these basic changes? These small shifts that had changed the foundations of history?

She wanted to know .

Her parents had learned of her fascination on history when she had been eight, so they were not as surprised as they could have been when she asked for information for her tenth birthday. Not a birthday party, not a pony, not a dog, but information .

“Can I go read the books now? Please?” She tilted her head and unleashed her puppy eyes, the same eyes she had practiced for months before she had begun to use, upon them.

“Of course, just be sure not to stay up too late.”

“Thank you!” Smiling widely, she dropped a kiss into both her parent’s cheeks, before she all but ran to her room, the prospect of getting a step closer to the knowledge she desired luring her.

Shock cursed through her veins as she stared at the information laid down on the pages in front of her.

It couldn’t be possible. Logic dictated that fiction was fake, made up, story telling . Book characters could not spring into existence, creatures of legend could not suddenly become real . She wasn’t in Inkheart . She wasn’t inside a book, and specially, she wasn’t in a world were predators dressed up as enchanting individuals in order to drain humans dry from their blood. She could not have been reborn into Twilight . It was impossible… But the book on her hands said otherwise. The timelines hidden throughout her room said otherwise. Her knowledge said otherwise. The bright crimson words were not fake, not a typo nor a sick joke.

“The Book of Unusual Holidays

By Vera Rossi and Helke Muller

Chapter 3: Regarding the celebration of Patron Saints

Page 45-46

St. Marcus Day.

The origins of St. Marcus Day are shrouded in mystery. It is known that sometime after the city of Volterra, Italy was founded St. Marcus cleansed the streets of Volterra from vampires, witches and werewolves alike. The issue lies in the knowledge that some of sources declared Volterra’s founding to have happened during the third century BC, while other sources claim it was founded during the eighth century BC. The origins of the city of Volterra are as mysterious as the city’s most famous holiday and it’s royal family.

While there are signs of similar holidays cropping up all across Italy and the surrounding countries, St. Marcus Day is only celebrated on Volterra proper.

Many confuse St. Marcus Day for the Feast of Saint Mark, but numerous sources separate the two of them. One of the principal reasons for this separison is the date of the holidays, for St. Marcus Day is celebrated on March 19th, while the Feast of Saint Mark is celebrated April 25th. Furthermore, St. Marcus Day predates the Feast of Saint Mark for over a thousand eyes. So while the confusion is understandable, the two of them are completely different.

As it is, St. Marcus Day celebrates the liberation of Volterra from vampires, witches and all sorts of supernatural creatures, giving it a Halloween-esque air, even without costumed strangers trick-or-treating throughout the night. As many ancient holidays, there are certain traditions that the inhabitants of the city follow zealously, even nowadays when the holiday has lost most of its macabre edge.

Mornings on March 19th are unnaturally quiet, imitating the fear and oppression the inhabitants of the city supposedly felt during the so-called ‘vampire oppression’ period. This brief period, from sunrise to just before midday, is kept quiet in respect of the spirits of those lost in the hands of the supernatural, or so the legends claim. One hour before noon, the current head of the Volturi Famiglia, an ancient Volterran family that has invested on the city from the very beginning and continues to do so to this day, rings the bells of the Palazzo dei Priori to signify the end of the mourning period and then the holiday truly begins. Now, traditionally, a mass was held on the Cattedrale di Santa Maria Assunta from eleven to noon, but as time passed, this tradition began to fall out of favor and now only the most religious of the citizens of Volterra can be found on the cathedral at this time.

As soon as the bells are ringed, the rest of the inhabitants of the city don their crimson cloaks and begin their revelry.

On the streets, citizens section themselves in ages. Children under fourteen moving towards the cities many parks to dance and play and enjoy the free treats handed out by city organized booths. Teenagers and young adults join on the main plaza, playing booth games and enjoying the holiday’s atmosphere.

Restaurants on Volterra have special menus for this day, filled with delicacies and traditional foods. The legend holds that in Volterra on March 19th, wine glasses are always filled to their brim.

Later, after dusk, children and teens, young adults and parents alike all come together on the Marcus Plaza and dance around the bonfire, celebrating the triumph of St. Marcus.

At dawn on March 20th, the bells of the Pallazo dei Priori will ring once again, signaling the end of the holiday and the dawn of a new age without the monsters that once haunted the streets at night. ”

Twilight, she was in motherfucking Twilight . Now, it wasn’t as if hated the books, on the contrary, the books had held a special place on her heart as the first romance novels she had read. As problematic as some of the factors of the books had been, she had liked the series. The lore was fascinating and the fanon was fantastic , but she had never, not once, wished to live on a world were she was prey, on a world where she could not even trust that the worst thing hiding in the dark was humanity’s worst.

She had liked Twilight, but she had never wanted to live it, and yet, there she was, living it.

Glancing at her clock, she grimaced when she noticed the time, it was barely nine but she was in the body of a child and she liked to sleep. Also, if there was any chance she would grow tall on this life, she would take it .

Closing the book with a thud, Oriana dropped it on her desk and sighed. She could deal with the shitstorm that was living on a fictiontional world adamant in secrecy tomorrow . Now it was past her bedtime, and she was going to sleep .

That night, she dreamed of beautiful strangers with blood red eyes for the first time, but not the last.

Chapter Text

The truth no one likes to dwell in: the dead don’t dream.

The truth she won’t confess: she doesn’t dream, either.

Once upon a time, she had been a dreamer with her head stuck in the clouds. She had million of stories, of scenarios, of plans stuck on her head. Day or night, eyes closed or open, she dreamed . She dreamed of a better world, of the possibilities of love, of a chance for change. She dreamed, and dreamed, and dreamed , until all her dreams were taken away.

Overnight, she had lost everything. Overnight, she had lost her dreams.

Life had taken her dreams and left behind a nightmare for her final act. After that, how could she dare to dream? Creativity, willfulness, wistfulness, she still had the traits necessary to float away in the clouds, but no longer did she have the drive for it.

The law of equivalent exchange explains that nothing can be gained if something is not lost. In exchange for knowledge, she had lost her peace of mind. In exchange for a second chance, she had lost her ability to dream.

Not once since her rebirth had she dreamed. There had not been any nightly adventures, no childish enterprises, no romantic daydreams, no nothing . She had been dreamless since her rebirth, and even if she had been able to dream, Oriana would not have allowed herself to do so. Once upon a time she kept her head on the clouds, now she preferred to have a firmer grasp in reality.

With her discovery of exactly where she had been reborn, she could not be more glad for this change. She didn’t dare to hope for Bella’s, and wow she was only two years younger than the protagonist of Twilight what a weird thought, luck. She already knew her chances of meeting a benign vampire out of nowhere were close to none, so she could not risk anything. She had to keep her feet firmly on the ground, and her gaze aimed down.

Once upon a time, she had dreamed of helping the world and had been willing to die for that dream. No longer was she willing to do so. Death had been painful, lonely, and she had been afraid, so afraid . This time around, she wanted to live . She wanted to see the world, to experience the seasons.

Yes, she was still fascinated by politics. Yes, she still wanted to create change, to leave behind proof that she had been there . To leave proof that she came, she saw, she conquered . Yes, she wanted to leave her print on the world, but no longer was she willing to be on the frontlines in order to do so.

Now, there was no need to get her wrong, Oriana still had it in her to create, to imagine, but she had grown wary, careful.  When any mistake could inadvertently cost her life, when any misstep may cost her freedom, she could not afford to slip. She could not afford to let her head fly away from her shoulders, not when she wanted to survive in a world where she was prey .

The fact was, she had stopped dreaming, willingly or not, a long time ago. Unlike most, she did not wake with fuzzy memories of what she had dreamt about. There were no Déjà vu , no sudden remembrances of long forgotten dreams. Sleep came in the form of oblivion for a few sweet hours, endless darkness and respite in a world that was too bright, too dangerous. Sleep was darkness, it was safety, it was the calm before the storm.

Oriana did not dream, so one could understand her surprise when the night after discovering that she was living inside a romance book, she dreamt .

At first, the dream was unfocused, images bombarded with no order, no sense. Pale skin, a bloodthirsty grin and red eyes. A stranger in the shadows, following a tall young man with dark skin and kind brown eyes. The same young man, helping those around them with a gentleness that was rarely found. A strange language, so similar to Greek but at the same time so different .

Then, it began to focus, to change.

That strange language, slowly making sense.

The young man, called Marcus by those around him, helping a couple resolve their issues with a soft voice and an understanding ear.

Marcus, a familiar name for a stranger- why did it sound so familiar? Why did she feel as if she should know this man?-, intervening in an argument between friends and helping them smooth out their differences.

Time and time again, she witnessed Marcus helping those around him with a delicate touch and understanding mind. The background changed, the individuals changed, the tone of the argument changed. There were only two commonalities on the scenes before her:

One, Marcus, the gentle giant she was slowly growing fond of.

Two, the creature in the shadows, always watching, always following .

The situation was understandably bizarre. What was see seeing? Why was she seeing it? She could not be dreaming, it seemed too real, too vivid. But, if it wasn’t a dream? What was it? A vision? No, it could not be. She wasn’t Alice, she did not fancy herself a psychic… And everything, everything was wrong. The language, the clothes, the decorations. No, she wasn’t looking forward, but backward .

Mind racing at the realization, she felt herself begin to wake up. Slowly, she felt her extremities tingle, her attention divide. She was waking up, slowly but surely.

Her fork poked the yolk of the egg on her plate while her mind examined the possibilities. It could have just been a dream, as Occam’s Razor would point out, but it seemed like more . Doyle had said that once the impossible was eliminated, whatever remains, however improbable must be the truth. So, what was impossible? She had not time traveled, that was for sure. She had woken up on her bed, not one hair out of place, so that was out . It wasn’t a just a dream, because she could not dream… Suddenly reminded of the cartoons she had used to watch on her past life, she stopped.

She had not time traveled, but what if? What if her soul had ? Astral projection was a thing, right? Professor X and the Emma Frost did it, so it was a possibility . Of course, she wasn’t a mutant, since they didn’t exist on her current world and all, but Benjamin could control the elements and shit and Siobhan could rearrange reality, so maybe she could sleep and travel to the past? It seemed possible, but the theory needed testing.

As did the fact that out of nowhere she could understand what she believed to be Ancient Greek , which was completely illogical . Greek was, well, all Greek to her. She did not know how to speak modern Greek or how to write it, but suddenly she could understand the ancient version of the language? It just didn’t make sense .

Nodding to herself, she began shovel the eggs into her mouth, a determined expression on her face . She had research to do . Once she was done eating, she used a napkin to clean any dirt on her face and dropped the plate into the sink.

“Hey Mommy?” Turning on the water, she began to clean her plate as she waited for her mom’s response.

“Yes, mija?”

“Can I search something up in the computer?”

“I don’t know, can you? You seemed pretty frustrated yesterday,” her mom said with laugh on her tone.

“Ughh, moooom ,” whining, she placed the plate on the drying rack and turned around, crossing her arms. “Yes, I can!”

“Then of course, dear. We bought it so that we all could use it, so you can use it,” her mother said. “But you can only use her for two hours, then you have to go play with your friends, alright?”

“Yes, thank you!”

Two hours later, she had reached two conclusions and found a couple questions to ponder in the process.

If the Volturi, okay she had to be logical, if Aro wanted gifted individuals, why not put an ad in Craiglist or something? Like, yes, a bunch of ungifted people would answer the ad, but they could just eat them. And like, if they wanted someone that could find out what gifts others had, wouldn’t it be easy to turn a profiler or a psychologist? Even if they didn’t get the gift they wanted, they could get something… Or at least she assumed so.

But she digressed. On her two hours of research, she had concluded two things. One, there was no logical way to determine whether what she was doing was actually astral projection or not. And two, she was now fluent not only in Ancient Greek but also in its most modern version, which was unbelievably cool . It was like someone had uploaded everything she needed to know about the languages into her brain and while that was extremely weird , it was also a gift she didn’t mind receiving. Never look a gift horse in the mouth and all, right?

Closing the internet window and powering the computer down, she added one last note on her notebook and closed it. The two hours had passed, and in all honesty, while she was beyond curious about her new ‘dreams’, she also knew she had time .

Isabella Marie Swan was two years older than her, so she had years before things hit the fan… Not that she was going to be anywhere close to the shitshow that was Forks when it did. There was no fucking way she was getting anywhere close to Edwart ‘ Privacy? What is privacy? Is it tasty? ’ Cullen, Alice ‘ I know what is best for you so I won’t let you have all the facts ’ Cullen or Jasper ‘ I definitely should not be in a room full of humans and yet here I am ’ Hale.

When reading the books she had liked the Cullen, but living on a world full of vampires had put things into perspective. Yes, she had loved the characters once upon a time, but? The blatant violation of privacy their abilities gave them, now terrified her. Also, she would rather interact with a vampire that had a bit more control than Jasper, like Rosalie. Honestly, she would love to meet Rosalie and maybe Emmett, but only if she had been turned before hand. She remembered what he had done to his Tua Cantante , after all.

Hiding the notebook under her pillow, not that it mattered where she hid it since she doubter her parents knew Ancient Greek, she quickly moved to her closet and began to change. It was Saturday so her parents would allow her to stay out later than during a weekday, but she still wanted to enjoy the time she had with her friends.

Carpe diem , right? She may be living her second life, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t live it at its fullest.

That night she dreamed again.

She dreamed of Marcus, of him sitting in what looked like the archaic version of a bedroom. A place its owner would call ‘their chambers’. He was brushing his brown hair while his eyes focused on the bronze mirror in front of him.

What was he looking at?

Curiosity aligning her bones, she stepped closer until she was at his side. Looking at the mirror she froze in shock.

Her reflection was looking back at her. How?

“Who are you?” Marcus asked. She had thought she would play the part of an observer and nothing else. On her last dream that was what she had been, but it seemed that was no longer the case. She opened her mouth to speak, to answer his question, but nothing came out. She was confused beyond belief, wondering if she should speak or not. At the end, her curiosity overwhelmed her common sense.

“I am Oriana,” she said as Marcus turned around and looked at her. While she noticed this, her focus was on both her words and her reflection. That afternoon she had discovered she could read Greek, both ancient and not, but learning she could also speak it? That left her shaken, and her reflection wasn’t helping on that front either. She looked pale, washed out, like a ghost. Why was that?

“Are you a ghost?”

“I am not sure, but I don’t think so. I believe I am alive, but just not in this time,” she said and shrugged. “I am-. Sorry, I don’t know if I am explaining myself correctly. I don’t know how I am here, but I know that I am both human and alive. My theory is that I am traveling in my dreams.”

“Were you sent by the Gods?” he asked warily, and she shook her head.

“No, that I am sure of. I wasn’t sent by anyone, but I also don’t know why am I doing this. I just-. I started dreaming of the past yesterday, and now I am here. I don’t know why, I am just waiting to wake up ,” she said, her distress at her situation clear on her voice. Marcus must have also heard it, because his gaze softened and he offered her a tiny smile.

“Well, if you swear on the Styx not to harm me, I am would be willing to keep you company until you ‘wake up’,” he said and offered his hand. “I am called Marcus.”

The dreams became a common occurrence after that, and she soon learned not to fear them, for nothing could touch her on them. She was a ghost in all but name, and while she didn’t exactly understand why, she learned to accept it. She learned to like the dreams. Her conversations with Marcus were a delight, and she soon discovered that she was able to follow him and remain hidden to everyone but him.

Little by little, the dreams became just another part of her life. Another piece of her strange existence she had no answer for, and she accepted it. Little by little, she forgot to be afraid.

She forgot the dangers that lurked in the shadows. She forgot the vampire that she had seen the first time she dreamed.

That was her mistake.

The dream had begun like any other dream. She had appeared next to Marcus and they had begun to chat, as Marcus made his way back home. The conversation, the strangers around them, Marcus voice. Everything was as usual, but things changed the moment they stepped into his room.

Suddenly, a shiver ran down her spine and her senses screamed Danger . Looking around the room, she tried to find the source of her fear and when she did, she froze .

There was a vampire inside the room.

There was a vampire inside the room and she could do nothing but watch as he stalked closer to Marcus, closer to his prey .

“Hello Marcus,” the vampire purred, and she was struck by the realization that if voices could be manifested physically, his voice would be lightning. Beautiful but lethal.

“Plouteus, what are you doing in my chambers?” Marcus asked, and she could see it clearly. He was unaware of the danger he was in, he didn’t know that the individual in front of them was no longer human.

“Don’t worry, my friend. Soon I will free you from the chains of humanity. Soon I will be able to show you eternity,” Plouteus ignored Marcus question and stalked closer to her friend. “I won’t lie to you, this will be agony, but it will be worth it.”

In the blink of an eye, Plouteus had his arms around Marcus and his teeth buried in his neck.

Marcus began to scream almost immediately after he was bitten.

And Oriana? She could only watch in horror as his friend was turned against his will. She could only watch and curse her inability to help as her extremities began to tingle and the scene began to blur. She could only watch in horror as she woke up .

Only she didn’t wake up.

She had opened her eyes expecting to find herself on her room, but instead, she was in an ancient forest, the light of clearing in the distance. The ancient pine trees loomed above her, giving the place a macabre air and the screams resonating in the air did not help the atmosphere. Not when she could recognize the voice screaming, not when they were Marcus’ screams .

Running towards the screams, she entered the clearing and rushed towards where her friend had been lain. Stopping by his side, she crouched down and let her hands hover over his form, something inside her breaking at the pain in his expression.

For the first time in a while, she hated her ‘dreams’. Things weren’t supposed to be this way .

Her dreams should not show her the young man she befriended screaming his lungs out while a hauntingly handsome stranger lurked in the shadows of the great pine trees. Her dreams should not force her to witness the pains of a vampire’s transformation, not when the person suffering from it was her friend . Her dreams should not hold the hate churning on her gut as the party responsible smiled .

“What the fuck ,” cursing softly, she reached to touch his paling skin, oh Gods he was so pale had the transformation gone wrong? Was he dying? , and closed her eyes in defeat when her hand went through his shoulder. Head snapping up, she all but hisses at the hauntingly beautiful Plouteus. “ Why did you do this to him ?”

She had not expected an answer, and that had been her mistake. In her fear, she had forgotten that to remain hidden from those around her, she had to concentrate , something she hadn’t done since entering the clearing. Her attempted touch had shown her she was still dreaming , and she had hoped, oh so dearly hoped , that this nightmare on the flesh was a fragment of her imagination, not truly the past.

But. But the sinking feeling in her gut told her otherwise. Slowly, the pieces were falling into place, and the picture they painted told her that yes, this had happened, yes it should have happened this way .  Marcus was turning into a vampire. Marcus, the gentle giant that somehow knew when people were in a relationship. Marcus, her kind friend that somehow always knew when a friendship was breaking or a marriage was becoming strained. Marcus . Marcus, who even as a human had had an unnatural knack for identifying relationships… Oh Gods, how had she not seen it? Her friend, her dear friend had been destined to become a vampire. Destined to go on and met a charming vampire with the ability to read minds and form the Volturi .

And.

And, just like that the pieces clicked into place. The picture crystalized. Yes, her friend would form the Volturi, but she would made sure he would not suffer as he had done on the books. He would be happy .

“Curious indeed,” the somewhat familiar but hated voice broke her from within her reflections. Blue eyes full of fury met crimson eyes full of mirth. What she saw within eyes set off alarm bells, for those eyes were the eyes of a beast .

A cold feeling washed upon her as she looked straight at those eyes devoid of humanity, devoid of warmth, devoid of emotion . They were crazed, half-wild, they were eyes that shouted predator and her human senses screamed as Marcus screamed from the pain he was subjected to. Her senses screamed at the certainty that she was prey, they screamed at the presence of a predator, but .

But, those screams were muted, secondary. Yes, she was afraid, terrified even, but the emotions overwhelming her were different. Rising above her fear was her desire to help her friend. Not her hate for the vampire that eyed her with interest, but the feeling of compassion for the man she knew would soon turn into a predator. There was rhyme, there was reason behind her protectiveness. She had always fought for those who needed it, always spoken out against injustices. Not so much on this life, but before ? Before she had always wanted to help. Before, she had always been willing to help, especially when it was someone she cared about . She knew she was incapable of doing anything, unable to stop the transformation once it had begun, unable to take away his pain, but she wanted to help nonetheless. She at least had to try .

Blue eyes narrowing, she watched the vampire in front of her warily, wondering if he would try to attack her.

“Did you hear me? Why did you to this to him? ”

“ Τι έχουμε εδώ?/What do we have here?” Plouteus said, and she realized he had been speaking in Ancient Greek while she had been speaking in English.  “Perhaps a spirit? An apparition? I cannot understand its gibberish, but no matter. It cannot interact with this world, therefore it is inconsequential.”

Closing her mouth, she refused to speak to the, the, the asshole who had decided to turn his friend without his explicit permission. Glaring, she smiled, aware that it looked more like a child baring her teeth than anything else.

“The sun has risen thrice, Marcus should awaken up shortly,” the vampire said coldly, breaking the silence. Her focus narrowed in the vampire. “No need to make him hunt for his sustenance, I shall bring him a snack .”

Just like that, Plouteus was gone.

“Of course, vampires have super speed. I forgot,” muttering under her breath, she focused her attention on Marcus and sighed. As much as she wanted, there was nothing she could do but offer her support, as she didn’t know if her voice would bring him any comfort, still she had to try . She could not, would not, leave Marcus to suffer alone.

Suddenly weary at the realization that even if she were dreaming, even if nothing was real, she would still act the same way, Oriana let herself fall back, torso hitting the ground but not making a single sound.

Reclining to the side to look at Marcus’, form, she reached forward and let her hand hover over his head, moving it backwards, mimicking brushing hair back.

“Hey, I don’t know if you can hear me, Marcus, but you are not alone . I am here. I won’t leave you, not now, not while you are in pain” she said, beginning a steady stream of chatter designed to fill the silence. “I am sorry, I should have warned you of the dangers of beautiful strangers with red eyes, but I forgot. I can warn you of this, though, do not follow that man- eh, I mean that vampire, Plouteus, was it? He seems deranged, lost to the thirst and the violence. Not like someone you would want at your back… Like that stranger you encountered after helping your aunt, you remember him? Gods, he was shady....”

She kept her chatter steady, stopping only for tiny breaths she knew she didn’t need, but was accustomed on taking. She kept speaking and she waited .

For what? She could not tell. Was she waiting to wake up? To open her eyes and to be back at home? Or was she waiting for Marcus to wake? For him to open his eyes and tell her everything would be alright? Oriana did not know what she was waiting for, but whatever it was, it did not happen.

Somewhere amidst her babbling, she had forgotten of Plouteus, so when the forest grew silent, when animals grew still in the presence of a predator, she ignored the warnings and continued talking.

That was how he found them, one suffering and the other lying down next to them and filling the air with experiences they had both shared.

“So you can talk the Common Tongue, were you trying to annoy me by talking in gibberish?”

Eyes widening a fraction, she quickly smoothed out her face into a mask of indifference and shrugged thoughtlessly. Her expression did not falter even as she caught glance of the scarlet drops on his beige tunic, nor when she saw he was carrying someone over his shoulder. On moments like that, she thanked the desensitization that came with watching countless hours of crime shows on her past life. Oriana was smart enough to sum one plus one, to realize the purpose of the individual in his shoulder and she felt strangely… empty at the realization that she did not care about the fate of the man in the vampire’s shoulder if it meant Marcus would not suffer the devastating thirst described in the books.

“I do not like your kind,” she said. There was no use hiding her ability to understand him, and really, even if she pissed him off, he could not touch her.

“Vampires? Bloodsuckers ?”

“No, monsters that have abandoned civility and manners.”

“But you do care for him?” he pointed at the man next to her, making her realize that MArcus was no longer screaming . Glancing at him, she shrugged and met the vampire’s eyes boldly.

“As a matter of fact, yes. Marcus is gentle, he is kind. As far as I can tell, he is nothing like you.” It was the truth. From his face to his clothes, now as pale and as beautiful as she would imagine a vampire’s face to be, Marcus had an air of a gentle giant. A Vampiric Hagrid, if she had to make a comparison.

“Don’t you think he will change?” The curiosity in Plouteus voice turned his tone into velvet, but she paid no mind, only smiling cynically.

“Oh, he will change. I know that, but I do believe he will still retain his gentleness,” she said and shrugged carelessly. Averting her eyes from his gaze, she focused her attention back to her friend. “You are almost there, Marcus. You will be alright.”

As soon as she finished her last sentence, as soon as she finished her last piece of encouragement, Marcus eyes snapped to reveal the eyes of a newborn vampire. And just like that, the world slowed down.

Plouteus grinned maniacally.

Marcus jumped into a crouch, gaze focused on the man in Plouteus shoulder.

The man began to stir.

Plouteus opened his mouth to speak, but before he could Marcus moved , hands stretched out to into claws.

Plouteus tried to move out of the way, to escape his self-made downfall, but he was too slow, too weak, against Marcus’ newborn strength.

Plouteous lost his head, then his arms, then Marcus ripped his torso away from his legs and threw it out of the way.

Marcus teeth sinked into the man’s neck.

The man screamed , and she felt nothing .

And Oriana? She screamed at Marcus, begged him to burn Plouteus body.

           Then

                             She

                                           Woke

                                                          Up .

Chapter Text

Waking up was a challenge of its own.

It was not the usual song of sleepiness and reluctance, but an entirely different ballad. There was no sleep weighing her down, no slow realization of the change in scenario.  No, she woke up suddenly and devastatingly. The clear realization that there was nothing she could do on her mind. No help she could offer her friend, no hand to extend in comfort.

A quick glance to her clock revealed that she had woken up twenty minutes before her alarm, and somehow that made the situation even worse.  Not only was she right, there was nothing she could do, but she also had to deal with the fact that she had to wait until hours to check on her friend.

If.

If she even could do so. And wasn’t that a devastating thought? The dreams that she once feared had become her respite, and instead a new fear had taken their place. What would happen if the dreams stopped? What would she do? Would she return to the monotony of her old life as if nothing had ever taken place?

Those were questions she did not have the strength to answer. At least not yet. Not after the nightmare she had just experienced. Instead, she would have to hope and wait.

Hope that Marcus had followed her advice, and burned Plouteus body.

Wait until the day was over and she could dream .

Hope that Marcus had maintained a hold of his mind and not gone into a newborn rampage.

Wait for her school day to end and for the sun to disappear beneath the horizon.

As she laid there in bed, looking blankly at the ceiling while her alarm clock lit the room in a ghostly green, she realized that all she could do was wait and hope she dreamed of Marcus that night. Hope that she was fast enough to help him, even if she had been late to help him this time around. Even if she had been too late to help him where it truly mattered.

Grimacing at her ceiling, she shook her head, trying to rid herself from the overwhelming guilt she felt. Yes, she should have told Marcus about vampires and their dangers. Yes, she should have warned him of the dangers found at night, especially during the night’s where the moon was full. Yes, yes , yes .  

She should have done better.

She hadn’t.

She had made a stupid mistake, grown comfortable . What is more, some part of her, as small and inconsequential as it was, had still believed that it was just a dream . Perhaps some part of her still believed that, but no longer could she afford treating her dreams as such. Not when what she felt was so real , so raw .

Death had taught her that life was too short for regrets, too short for ‘ what ifs ’. She only had one life, or well in her case two lives , so she had to live her second life at its fullest, even if it meant that she had to con herself into believing that yes , her dreams were not a figment of her imagination.

Turning around, she squinted in the dark towards her bedside table and sighed when she managed to discern that her alarm clock read ‘7:04 AM’ in bright green numbers.

Great , now she didn’t even have time to laze about in bed before going to school. Groaning softly, she stood up and stretched, turning her alarm off when it began to go off.

Moving towards her closet, she began to undress, preparing herself for the day she already wished was over.

Closing her eyes, she rested her forehead on the desk in front of her and wished she could just skip the entirety of elementary, middle and high school. Just push the fast forward button on the movie of her second life until she had graduated from high school for a second time. Wow, but was the public education system annoying . While logically, she knew she was making the right choice, that she would have been fucked if any shady organizations caught wind of her advanced mindset. Gods , now that she had begun to believe vampires existed she realized she would have been even more screwed if anyone had gotten wind of her circumstances. Meeting the Volturi was not on her to do list… At least not for now. So, yeah, she had made the right decision when she had decided to underplay her abilities. Still, if she had to do a vocab quiz one more damn time she would go batshit crazy . She liked writing, yes, but wow was she done with vocabulary tests. So fucking done.

All the screaming wasn’t helping either. She hated Fourth Grade from the bottom of her heart. Yes, her friends were adorable. So hopeful and bright-eyed. Yes, she had fun playing with them. Yes, she was happy her kindergarten stage was over… But, but , being stuck in a classroom full of ten years old as a ten year old? It was a nightmare .

It was exactly this kind of moments that made her debate whether her idea of pretending to be just a rather smart child was such a good idea, or if she should have just made herself a genius . Even Volturi should be better than that. Right?

“Class! The bathroom break is over!”

Groaning softly into the wood, she sighed and mentally prepared herself for the rest of the day.

“Gods, I wish the day was over already,” she whispered as she raised her head.

“How was school, sweetheart?”

As soon as she opened the door, she heard her mother’s and restrained a grimace. Painting a bright smile on her face, she skipped cheerily into the room.

“It was great, Mami! We started learning about the history of Florida and it’s so cool!”

“It’s good that you are enjoying your classes,” her mother said with a smile. “Now go put your things in your room.”

“Okay!” chirping happily, she made her way towards her room, smile slowly falling from her face, replaced by a frown. Gods, she was so tired of acting like a child. She couldn’t wait until she was an adult. Again .

That night she dreamt.

By itself, dreaming was not a surprising occurrence. Her dreams had become expected . Normal, casual, part of her routine. From the very first dream on, visiting Marcus had become just another part of her day. No, dreaming didn’t surprise her. What did surprise her was that this time, when she opened her eyes, there was no Marcus . Instead, she was in a vastly different forest than the one she had dreamt the night before. The forest was different, and to be honest, quite macabre . The full moon peaked in between tree branches, illuminating the forest floor, leaving behind shadowy imagines. Worst of all, everything was silent. There were no birds singing, no animals moving about, no insects chirping … It was unnatural.

She was lost, worried, confused . She always, always , dreamed of Marcus, so whatever her current situation was it was new and surprising . She didn’t like surprises very much. And especially not when they took the shape of a creepy ass forest under a full moon .

She had a) read enough horror books to know that waking up on a strange forest was not a good sign, and b) knowledgeable enough on the subject of the supernatural to know exactly what manner of beasts were awakened during the full moon.

For those fans who had read the Twilight books, watched the movies, or even those who had the barest minimum information on the topic, the knowledge of the existence of werewolves was a fact, an undeniable truth. She had read the books, she had watched the movies, hell, she even had read online headcanons and meta . She knew that in the Twilight universe, her current universe , werewolves were a thing . An evolutionary imperfected thing , but a thing nonetheless.

So, of course, she didn’t exactly feel comfortable at the moment. Not with the full moon on the sky, not when the forest was as silent as death itself. Not when she knew that her luck meant she would probably get to see a Children of the Moon some time soon.

“I hate this creepy dream, this creepy forest and this creepy… Well, everything ,” grumbling under her breath, she raised her hand to run it through her hair and froze when she heard the howl . “Of fucking course. My fucking luck.”

Growling under her breath, she did exactly what no one should do, she ran towards the howl. She was curious , alright? And she was dreaming. So far, nothing on her dreams had wounded her, so it was the perfect opportunity to see the damn beasts and learn what all the fuss was about.  

Slipping soundlessly through the forest, she made a straight line towards the howl, not caring whether she ran through a tree or two. She was intangible, a ghost, a ghost, incapable of being hurt on her current shape.

Soon, the trees began to clear, growing farther and farther apart, skeletal limbs reaching unto the sky. It was the perfect battlefield against someone with low maneuverability, and it seemed as if someone was determined to test it. Claw marks marred the trees, creating a trail leading to one of the most breathtakingly terrifying scenes she had witnessed.

Logically, she had known that werewolves were not to be trifled with, but she had not realized how much of a biological weapon they were until she saw one. Unlike the most typical portrayals, and even Meyer’s own vague comments, the beast in front of her did not look like a wolf . They were humanoid in shape, if your definition of humanoid was a creature that stood on two legs, hunched over and had arms so long that the tip of its claws brushed the floor. Just looking at it was wrong . Nothing should look like that . A deformed skull gave the vague appearance of misshapen ears, while sickly yellow eyes shined with madness. Tufts of matted hair randomly sprouted throughout the creature’s body without rhyme or reason, and the claws . By the gods , the claws and the teeth were a thing of nightmares . Long and curved, they shined eerily under the full moon. And the tips . The tips were jagged and dripped with a liquid that glowed . The entirety of the beast screamed supernatural, and it was fitting yes, but she wanted it gone .

And from what she could see, she wasn’t the only one. While she took her time processing the sheer presence of the Child of the Moon, it’s opponents had collected themselves and gone back into the offensive. A tall, athletic woman had her lips curled with a fury so intense it sent shivers down her spine. Next to her stood a tall man with white hair, of all things, eyes calculating.

“Is that a fucking anime boy ? Fighting a Child of the Moon? What is this, Fairy Tail ?” muttering under breath, she stepped closer to the fight, watching with morbid fascination as a single werewolf gave two vampires a run for their money.  Still, while the mindless beast was strong soon it became obvious that it was no match against the two vampires that moved in perfect harmony.

It was like watching a dance. As the woman went right, the man struck left. They moved around each other in perfect synchronization. Mesmerized by their cooperation, she stepped closer, wishing to see them more clearly, but she stopped when she caught the sight of something that made her blood run cold.

There was another pair of yellow eyes amongst the wood.

Blue eyes catched the way the hidden werewolf tensed it’s legs and she took a snap decision that had far reaching consequences, not that she had known so at the time. Wishing herself visible, she opened her mouth and screamed as the other werewolf jumped.

“Watch out!”

The white haired stranger turned around just in time, avoiding the swipe from his attacker and tackling into the ground with renewed determination brought out by anger.

The edge of her lips twitched up at the ‘cracks’ that followed, one after the other, the bones of the werewolf under the man’s grip breaking . With the satisfaction, came worry. When had she become so vindictive? When had the sound of breaking bones stopped worrying her? Had death truly changed her and twisted her into someone that the enjoyed violence?

As she watched the two beautiful strangers work in perfect sync, she felt the pit of her stomach drop, because the answer was yes . Death had changed her, and she was barely beginning to realize how much . The worst part of the ordeal, though, was that while she worried about not noticing such changes, she felt nothing regarding the changes themselves.

She should be disgusted by her apparent vindictiveness, disgusted by her degrading morality… But she wasn’t. Instead, as she watched the vampires tear into the werewolves, all she could do was smile as the edges of her vision faded, signaling the end of the dream.

Opening her eyes, she had to take a moment to collect herself when she realized she had not, in fact, woken up as she had expected. Instead, the dream had simply shifted in location dropping her smack dab in the middle of the damned clearing where Marcus had turned.

Turning around in a circle, she sighed in relief when she saw Marcus standing in front of her. Rushing to his side, she let her hands, hover over his arms. Looking up at him, she let her eyes wander around his face, examining him for any damage caused after the transformation.

“Thank the gods,” she said as she let her hands fall and took a step back, relaxing when she saw Marcus’ eyes. Red as freshly spilled blood, yes, but also satisfyingly clear.

“What brings this concern forth?” he asked, amusement shining through. Relaxing at his coherence, she shrugged.

“Partly guilt, partly worry. I did leave you alone after you awoke, and even if I have no control over when I wake or not, it does not mean I have to like it,” she pointed  out as she sighed. And wasn’t that strange?  While she could not interact with the world around her, she could still do such things as sigh and run her hand through her hair. Her dreams were such a strange place. “I also feel extremely guilty about not warning you about the vampires. I just thought that, well, you know. You wouldn’t meet one, ever . Much less turn into one.”

“But from what you told me while, while the fire was devouring me, you knew of these creatures. Am I correct?” The curiosity in his voice was apparent, but so was the pain at the mention of his transformation.

“Wait. You heard me?”

“Indeed. It was one of the reasons I did as you told me and burned Plouteus,” he said while grimacing, eyes shadowed by grief. “He was not the man I used to call a friend, and after I regained my mind after… After the feeding , I could clearly see that our friendship had deteriorated into an obsession.”

Stopping short at the pain in his voice, she noticed the way his shoulders hunched and how he seemed to be turning inward, grief and shame consuming him.

“Marcus, I am so sorry you had to see what your friend turned into.”

“What I wonder is,” he began to pace as he spoke, an erratic movement that she knew was impossible for the human eye could follow, but somehow she could. “Will I fall as he has? Will I let the thirst consume me?”

“Honestly? I don’t think so,” she declared, sitting cross legged in the ground. “The fact you are worried about becoming a mindless killer shows that you have more control than you believe. I am pretty sure most newborns would not be debating the morality of vampirism a… Sorry, how long was I gone?”

“The sun has not set since you left.”

“Yeah, my point exactly. I am pretty sure most newborns would be searching for blood around now, and yet here we are,” she said.

“That does not mean I do not want to drink more, that does not mean that I won’t kill the next person that passes by me,” Marcus rubbed his forehead. “I do not want to harm those I care about.”

“Then don’t? There is plenty of other people out there, and honestly? As long as you get your fill,” she shrugged. “Well, I don’t care what happens to your victims.”

“Oriana!”

“What? Come on! I have seen you kill others to defend those you care about, this is not much different. You care about yourself and you don’t want to feel thirst? Drink from someone you don’t know. Voila! Problem solved.”

She watched as Marcus came to a halt and turned towards her in surprise.

“That is fairly callous and I am surprised you would say that. Did you not frown at the slavers when they visited town?”

The incredulity in his tone made her pause and reflect on what she had said. It was callous indeed, but she could not come to regret saying it. After all, what did she care about known strangers when her friend was right there and had a real problem? To her, the people Marcus would feed on were long death anyway, so why should she care what happened to them? Death was inevitable, slavery on the hand could be stopped.

“I-I think that my train of thought is kinda like this: I don’t care about the people you kill, because I am more worried about what would happen to you if you don’t feed. Also all people have to die at one point. On the other hand,” there she paused to gather her thoughts. “On the other hand, I find slavery appalling because it implies some humans are inherently inferior to others and that is false. Also, it does not work as a system and it’s just really stupid? Like, it halts progress and just spreads societal hate, which then harms society. And like? People don’t have to be slaves, or have to have slaves. It is not necessary nor a must, simply a so-called ‘luxury’ used to oppress those without power.”

Hearing the leaves crunching next to her, she turned to see Marcus sit next to her with a contemplative face.

“That is… Actually, not a terrible point.”

“Geez, thanks for your vote of confidence. It’s not like I know about political theory or shit like that, right?” Sarcasm dripping from her words, she rolled her eyes. “But really, you have to make the best out of the situation at hand. Like, for example, now you are immortal and are incredibly fast . You are going to be able to see entire civilizations rise and fall . The world is your oyster, Marcus, and you should enjoy that.”

“When you put it like that, there is much I have yet to explore.”

“Right?! The opportunities are limitless...”

Soon they returned to their usual speaking patterns, bantering and chatting idly until the background blurred and the dream slipped from between her fingers.

This time, when she opened her eyes to see her bedroom ceiling she did not worry. Why would she? She had spoken with Marcus, and while he had not been fine , he was alive, he was coping . All that she could do now was to wait and attempt to stay with him as he grew into his new lifestyle and fully embraced his new nature.

That she could do easily.

Stretching languidly, she rolled out of bed. Yawning, she walked up to her closet and opened the door wide. Fingers running through the hangers, her hand stopped on a white dress with red dots as an image flashed through her head.

“Watch out!”

White hair flew as the vampire turned towards her, red eyes meeting blue as they took her in and settled at her hand pointing behind him. Suddenly, she was facing the stranger’s back as he threw himself to the werewolf that had previously escaped his and his partner’s attention.

Blinking the image back, she hummed thoughtfully. Right, that had happened. That was… New, to say the less. She had never dreamed of anyone but Marcus before. And now that she thought about it, that fact was also weird by itself. Why was she dreaming of Marcus on the first place? Had Marcus been just the beginning? Maybe-

“Oriana, hurry up and get ready or you will be late!” Her mother’s voice called out, snapping her from her musings.

“Sorry mami! I will hurry!”

Taking the white dress down from it’s hanger, she decided to leave that matter alone until later . Later referring to Science class, of course.

Science class came and went, and she wasn’t any closer to figuring out why suddenly Marcus was not the sole focus of her dreams. And she had tried . The entire class, she had created theory after theory, each one more ridiculous than the last, in hopes of finding out the why behind the sudden change, but none seemed to be plausible. By the time the school day had ended, there were only three things she could say for sure:

1. Marcus was a vampire.
2. Her dreams had expanded to include more vampires, and perhaps they would not stop with those two.
3. Her life was irrevocably weird.

Admittedly, it was not much of a list, but it was something and the thought that she was one step closer to figuring out what the hell was happening with her dreams brought her comfort that night, as she got ready for bed.

“Alright, what the flying fuck ?” Opening her arms, she repeated her words, not bothering to speak in Ancient Greek because fuck it . “ What the fuck?! Why am I even here? ”

‘Here’ being a creepy cave with two vampires that looked hauntingly familiar. Almost as if she had seen them somewhere before… Oh wait, she had. Because they were the same vampires that had killed the werewolves the day before .

Groaning in annoyance, she tightened her fists and shook them towards the ceiling.

“Fuck whoever decides where I travel in my dreams,” hissing in Ancient Greek, she let her hands drop and sighed. “Seriously, how hard is it to give a warning?”

Her words seemingly broke through whatever surprise her arrival had cause, because suddenly the male vampire was up on her face snarling.

“ Identify yourself and your intention ,” he growled, and wow was that pee-in-your-pants terrifying… Or well, would have been if she had been physically present in the cave.

As it was, she knew nothing the vampires did could harm her, so she rolled her eyes at him.

“Relax, you don’t have to worry about me. I am intangible, see?” To prove her point, she shoved her hand through the nearest wall and sent the man a look . “But since you asked so nicely. I am Oriana Blanco and have no intention regarding you two, since, you know. I have no clue who you are .”

Apparently that was the right thing to say, because the athletic woman stepped forward and nudged the man out of the way, her eyes shining with interest.

“Are you perhaps a ghost? Did you die young? Are you haunting these woods?”

Surprised by the sudden interest, she floundered for a moment before shaking her head.

“No to all three. I am not a ghost, the first time I died I died at twenty, so not really young per say. And like, to be honest, I have no clue where I am,” she shrugged. “My soul kinda travels to the past when I sleep? Not really? I don’t actually know how that works, just that it has happened a lot recently.”

“Why should we believe you?” The man asked. “You were on the clearing on the new moon.”

“Because it’s the truth? I don’t know what else to say, to be honest. But I am curious. What ended up happening to the werewolves? Did you two kill them?” Tilting her head, she narrowed her eyes when a thought flitted through her head. “Did you burn the bodies? Please tell me you burned the bodies.”

“We did burn the bodies, but why do you ask?” The woman asked curiously.

“The fluids coming out from the Children of the Moon looked toxic , and honestly, it is not entirely unbelievable for it to be used to contaminate other animals or something like that,” grimacing, she shook her head. “That does not sound good.”

“You are not wrong,” the man agreed grudgingly. “And I suppose I must thank you for warning us of the second werewolf.”

“Thank me by telling me your names, please. It’s kinda weird to think of you two as ‘the male vampire’ or ‘the athletic woman’.”

“No.”

“Come on, Caius! We owe it to her,” the woman said and turned towards her with a smile. It was a really pretty smile, a part of her absently noted while a bigger part freaked out . “I am Athenodora.”

Gaping, she opened her mouth to say something, anything really, but all that came out was a short.

“Wait, what?!”

She was about to say something else when the entire room spinned and suddenly the cave was gone, replaced by wooden walls.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” A voice called from behind her, and she turned to find a young man, maybe around nineteen, looking at her with a, frankly creepy, grin from the threshold of the room. “Hello, apparition. You may call me Aro, how may I call you ?”

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, she had hoped for a normal kind of life.

Eyeing Aro, she sighed as she practically felt that chance escaping from her grasp.

There was no way in hell meeting the last member of the trio was a coincidence. Dreaming of Marcus had been a surprise, meeting both Caius and Athenodora had been a coincidence . But meeting Aro? That was deliberate. It was just simply too much to be a coincidence, especially since she had slowly met each of them before they had even dreamed of becoming a coven. Someone was pulling the strings behind her back, but to be honest? She didn’t mind, at all .

The truth was that she was bored .

She had been a college student when she had died, starting to grasp how big the world truly was and how much she had wanted to explore it. Nowadays she was stuck in elementary school pretending to pay attention to basic knowledge she already knew . So yeah, the dreams had proved to be a great distraction from the monotony of her daily Life. And being able to talk to others on equal footing? That was relieving . Faking childhood innocence was exhausting, but she couldn’t stop. Not with her life on the line.

So at the end of the day, she couldn’t complain about the strange situations fate was dropping her into. But. But , she really would have liked some sort of warning before she was dropped in the past to deal with motherfucking Aro Volturi .

An uncomfortable baby Aro, she noted with hidden glee, but an Aro nonetheless.

Suppressing a smile at his obvious discomfort, she deliberately met his eyes and raised a brow questiongly.

The silence surrounding both of them had long grown awkward, but she didn’t care in the slightest. If Aro wanted to be unnecessarily creepy, well, two people could play that game.

“Now, now, now . I have been told names have powers,” she said as she took a step forward until she was less than a foot away from him. Tilting her head, she showed him a smile with one too many teeth. “Whyever should I tell you my name?”

That seemed to confuse him.

“I summoned you,” he said, and oh wasn’t that interesting? He had tried to summon a ghost? What a young entrepreneur he was, she just had to hear the reason behind that. “It is only logical for you to answer my questions.”

No longer able to keep up the act, Oriana snorted.

“And it would have been impressive, if you had truly summoned me. However that is not the case,” she admitted freely as she started to pace around the room, exploring the little cabin they where in. There wasn’t much to see, simply wooden walls and a floor marred by what to her limited knowledge in the supernatural looked like a summoning circle. So, nothing too out of the ordinary apparently. “Also, while I do enjoy the occasional dramatics, I don’t quite enjoy being intimidated into compliance.”

“Curious indeed, if you are not an apparition, then what are you?” he asked and she sighed.

“I do wonder, is he listening to what I am saying or simply hearing my voice?” she asked the walls surrounding them.

“Must I repeat myself for your amusement?” Aro asked through gritted teeth.

“For my amusement No,” she said. “For my answers? Without a doubt.”

She shrugged.

“I would apologize and say it wasn’t personal, but that wouldn’t be true. I am self-aware enough to realize that I am annoyed by your intimidation tactics. That is rude as it is, however you also seem to be forgetting something important: you have the questions, yes, but I have the answers. In this situation I hold do the high ground, so guess what? I want respect where respect is due.” She shrugged again. “What would you do in my position?”

She watched as he struggled to come up with an excuse, only for come up with nothing.

“I suppose that I-,” Aro sighed. “I suppose that I would react similarly.”

“Exactly,” she said. Pausing in front of a wall, she turned to face Aro and leaned back casually. While she was somewhat annoyed by his behavior, she was curious about what he was going to ask. Better, then, to give him his full attention. “Also, I would recommend to take this as a practice. You look and have the manner of a politician, however, for such a position it is always better if one has one or two tricks under their sleeves. If you do learn to reign your pride, it will be easier for you to manipulative those who are too blinded by the shine of their egos to see beyond the surface. Use this situation as practice.”

If she were to be honest, and she always was (at least to herself), Aro was going to need all the practice he could get. For someone who would grow to be one of the greatest Machiavellian masterminds of eternity, his face was strangely open . And wasn’t that offputting? Young Aro’s face was so open and trusting , it was completely unlike what she expected from the teen that would grow up to be one of the most feared and manipulative vampires on her new world’s history . It was unexpected, but by now she should have learned to expect the unexpected.

As for Aro… Well, he really needed to work on his resting bitch face, especially since she could see his pride and curiosity warring on his expressions.

Watching him steadily as he struggled with an ego given to him by his fine clothing and educated speech, she wondered if the arrogance had come from his family’s legacy or his own abilities. Nonetheless, he would have to learn how to tame it, for it would be dangerous if he did not.

It was odd to see the individual before the legend had been whispered into existence. From meeting Marcus, she had known that the Volturi were not what they would be, but it was still a shock to see the before . Before the human became the vampire. Before the harmless became the threat. Right now, Aro was many things, but he was neither a threat nor a legend, simply a curious teen that had tried summoning a supernatural creature . Which… Props to him. She had to give him credit where credit was due… Unless he had chosen to summoned a strange identity due to recklessness and not bravery.  

Which, since she had not seen anything that could be used as a defense against the summoning going wrong, was more than likely. If that was the case, and she was not going to ask for her own peace of mind, she had to thank the fucking gods, if they were even a thing in this new universe, that neither demons nor ghosts existed in the Twilight world. If they had, well, only the gods would have known what would have answered Aro’s call.

And damn .

Didn’t that bring up a terrifying question? Were there truly no demons or ghosts, or even gods?  If vampires ruled from the shadows and shifters lived in Native American reservations, did that mean that gods haunted the peaks of Olympus? Did ghosts lurk in the shadows? Demons in the night? Did they truly not exist in the Twilight universe or was she simply unaware of them?

Yeah, no, no, nope . She was not dealing with that shit right now. No way Jose. She already had to deal with vampires and werewolves, no fucking way was she dealing with demons and ghosts. Seriously, wasn’t it enough-

Hearing Aro’s throat clear, she abandoned that particular train of thought and focused on the present.

“Apologies for my previous manners. Let me introduce myself, Iam called Aro, son of Tithonus. May I have your name?” This time, when Aro introduced himself he smiled charmingly. “And if it not much bother, may I ask you to answer some questions for me?”

There it was .

Oriana smiled.

Even in his youth, and there was no mistaking it the Aro in front of her was young, it seemed that he was still a formidable opponent. She did not know if words had the same effect on her than they had on the Fae of legend, but she thanked her lucky stars that she had once been obsessed with mythology.

There was a power in words, and it seemed Aro knew this.

Impressed by the turn around, she nodded, eyes catching the way the light entering through the windows made Aro look impossibly young .

It was unusual to see Aro Volturi look so young , so unlike Michael Sheen, unlike the leader described in the books. It was odd to see a teenager and expect a god, for he wasn’t one yet. But , but the potential to become the man of the stories was there, she could see that. It was hidden under the recklessness of youth, but it was there . In his charm, she could glimpse the man that would unite the Volturi coven and create its Guard. In his poise, she could see the leader that defeated his enemies and ruled the vampire world. In his voice, she could hear the man Edward Masen had first seen in Carlisle Cullen’s mind.

Aro was without a shadow of doubt a natural born leader, and every leader had their flaws. In his case, well, it seemed that Aro’s ego was a little to big for him to handle by himself. She had spent all of five minutes with him and even she could realise he was the kind of individual that believed that he was always right, even when he wasn’t.

And that .

That wouldn’t do.

Pride goes before a fall .

He needed balance. Marcus and Caius had done a good enough job on the books, but they had let him get away with too much, given him all but absolute power. And as anyone that had watched Star Wars would know, absolute power corrupts absolutely .

That thought didn’t sit well with her.

As a reader, she had been fascinated by the Volturi. As a new player in the game, she realized they were necessary. They needed to succeed, but if she let things proceed as they would have history would repeat itself. Aro’s ego would cause a strain on the coven, and if someone as self-absorbed as Edward Masen, or someone as oblivious as Isabella Swan could see this strain… Well, so could the entire vampire world.

That wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do, at all .

The imbalance of power had weakened them, made them easy to oppose. Without said imbalance, it was hard to say how far would the Volturi have gone if Aro had not been given all but absolute control. Would Aro have let his paranoia get the better of him and killed Didyme? If things were changed, would the Volturi become the cartoony villains from Isabella’s story?

Well, why not find out?

“A pleasure, Aro. I am Oriana Blanco, and yes, I would love to answer some of your questions.”

“So you are not an apparition?”

“Nah, sorry. I am just a dreamer.”

“No need to apologize, that is perhaps even better than being an apparition.”

“I am going to take that as a compliment.”

“It is, and I would like to ask you some questions about your ability. It may shed some light around my own ability.”

“Oh, now we are talking.”

“This gift of mine, have you heard of it before, Oriana?”

“Not quite, but there are some individuals that have specific abilities. So there may be someone who also finds it easy to psychoanalyze individual’s in such a way that they can know things about that individual’s life that they were not told about, but I think is more likely that your gift is unique. Of course, there may be someone that has a similar gift.”

“Fascinating.”

“Wait, so you are from the future ?”

“Well, your future and my present. Po-tay-to, po-tah-to. But sure, like three-thousand years into your future. Weird, right?”

“I actually find that intriguing.”

“Pardon me, but could you repeat what you just said?”

“Ahm, sure? I dreamt of my friend being turned. I am not sure why you want to know about that.”

“Well, I would like to know what do you mean by ‘being turned’.”

“Oh yeah, that would be confusing. Sorry, I assumed you knew I was talking about vampires.”

“About what ?!”

“Oh boy, you didn’t know about vampires, did you?”

“I did not , but I would like to.”

“Well, here it goes…”

“Alright, so correct me if I am wrong,” Aro began while rubbing his forehead as if to ward off an upcoming headache. Unsurprisingly, as the conversation had progressed, he had grown more and more shocked. At some point he had to recline against the wall to support himself, dirtying his pristine white robes in the process. It looked like he was getting quite the spectacular headache. “In this world, there exists a species that is more than human. Humans once, but now more .”

“Yep, that sounds about right.”

“This species is not only immortal, but some of them are granted gifts as they turn.”

“Correct.”

“And the only price there is to this amazing option is that of drinking blood?”

“I mean, many would argue that the price is a much bigger deal than what you are saying, not just blood but the essence of the living… But yeah. You have the picture,” she shrugged. He wasn’t necessarily wrong, per se, but his hyperfocus on the immortality and the gifts that came from being a vampire instead of the whole blood sucking thing showed exactly where his priorities laid. Which wasn’t exactly a surprise when it came to Aro, but nonetheless, the blood sucking part was kind of important.

It wasn’t like she could blame him, however. After all, she was beginning to consider vampirism as a course of action. She only needed a vampire ‘patron’ and she would be golden… Well, she also had to wait until she turned at least twenty-five . No way she was turning as a teen or something like that. That was a recipe for disaster. She was not going through high school more than once, thank you very much.

“Could you perhaps tell me where could I find one such vampires? I would like to be turned,” Aro said.

“I mean, technically yes? I can always ask Marcus to turn you, but I highly recommend for you to wait a couple of years before you are turned,” she said as she tilted her head and hummed thoughtfully. “Nevermind, it’s not a recommendation. I am not telling Marcus to turn you until you are at least on your twenties .”

Since they were sitting right in front of each other , she was treated with Aro’s face as it fell from excitement into thunderous annoyance.

“Why must you insist on creating such inconveniences?”

“Okay, so I understand that you are annoyed, but. And think about this carefully: Do you really want your brain to be stuck in your teenage years ?” Raising an eyebrow, she spoke in candor, her arms gesticulating wildly as she got into her argument. “Like, I know I wouldn’t.”

“I can’t see your point.”

“Ok, so like. You know about the brain, right? Like, that thing that is in your head and makes you think?”

“I am familiar with a brain is, yes,” he said, sarcasm heavy on his voice.

Sarcasm that she decided to ignore because she was trying to help him dammit.

“Well, first of all. The human brain doesn’t finish developing until somewhere in our twenties, like, I don’t know exactly when, but I think I remember it is somewhere after our twenty-fifth birthday. So like, do you want to be turned with an underdeveloped brain? I don’t think so!” Opening her arms wide, she shook them in emphasis. “Think of all the potential lost!”

“... You are making some sense,” he granted.

“Cool, but I am not done. My second point is this. Do you want to spend the rest of eternity as a gangly and awkward-looking teen? Even a really hot one? Seems like a bad deal for me,” she said while lowering her arms and making finger guns. “Like, sorry, but think of all the angst that would bring. Personally, I don’t think anyone would want to live eternally like that.”

“Alright, alright. Your argument makes sense. I will wait, but I will only do so for six years. Twenty-four would have to suffice.”

Humming thoughtfully, she nodded.

“Yeah, that seems alright to me. I will tell Marcus to turn you around time.”

“Good,” he said as he glanced at one of the small windows doting the cabin and visibly startled as he noticed the position of the sun. “I will be taking my leave, I promised Mother to help with his chores.”

“Ok. Have a nice afternoon. Also, I should be waking up in any moment now, so I should tell you I don’t actually know when or if I am dreaming of you again. I don’t think I can control what I dream.”

“Why not?”

“Uh… Good question, and the answer is that I haven’t tried to.”

“Well then, you should begin trying . It might be useful to do so every once in a while.”

As the edges of her vision began to fade, she let out a sound of offense. Opening her mouth, she began to speak on her own defense.

“Hey-!”

RIINGGG

Her eyes snapped open as her hand snaked out from her covers slammed down on the alarm. Staring blankly at the ceiling, she let out a huff of laughter.

“I can't believe Aro is actually a little shit,” her grin widened. “Oh, things are turning out to be interesting .”

“Oriana! Get up or you will be late for school!”

Rolling out her bed, she scrambled to get ready as she went over the little details she had observed throughout her dream, stopping on a particular oddity that had slipped by at the moment but that now she could not help but be curious about. She had met Aro, but where was Didyme? She had thought they were twins.

“Oriana!”

Slipping into her dress, she resolved to think about that later.

“I am up, I am up!”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The pencil hit the notebook rhythmically as she stared blankly at the whiteboard. Unlike what her focused expression implied, she wasn’t taking notes. They were going over some inconsequential grammar rule or the other so she saw no need for it. Instead, she had let her mind wander, replaying her dreams and filing what she deemed important.

“Oriana, could you please tell us how the rule would apply in the example written on the board?” her teacher asked, and she probably should try to remember her name but she really couldn’t be bothered.

Crashing back into reality, she blinked at the board and nodded. Smile wide on her face, she stood up.

“Sure!”

“Oh, it’s you again.”

That night, when she opened her eyes to a lush forest and two bloody vampires she could not help but sigh. There she goes again, meeting with the Volturi before they became the Volturi. Seriously, what was up with her dreams?

It wasn’t that Athenodora and Caius were annoying, they were simply dripping in blood, but she really would have liked to have dreamed of Marcus. Perhaps Aro was right and she needed to start trying to control her dreams.

Wrinkling her nose at the blood, she made herself comfortable on the branch on top of which she had appeared. Kicking her legs back and forth, she noted that vampires were indeed sparkly . Which was hilarious, and a bit disconcerting. What was the big deal about sparkling? They looked like they were covered in body glitter, not as if they weren’t human. Skin of a killer, my ass , she thought with a snort. It was really nothing compared to a vampire’s eyes. Those screamed ‘predator’.

Yes, she had compared Caius to the quintessential white-haired anime boy, but she supposed that a more fitting comparison was that of a wraith, tall and pale. Dressed in black, the only color on his frame was red. Scarlet red eyes and rusted red marring his cheeks. Athenodora was in a similar situation, tall and nymph-like as she was. It was a haunting image, but she had to concede that there was a great allure on it.

“I love your enthusiasm, Caius. Truly, I feel so welcomed,” she rolled her eyes and nodded at Athenodora. “A pleasure, Athenodora. Apologies for leaving so abruptly, I am fairly new to these dreams and I have yet to understand how they work.”

“No need to apologize,” Athenodora said. “But I would like an explanation as to why were you surprised when we told you our names.”

Shit , she had forgotten about that. She couldn’t tell them the truth, it could drastically change history and like hell she wanted the Romanian coven in control. The Volturi at least had potential as a political body. What little information she had of the Romanians painted them as nothing less than a hot mess. So of course, honesty was out. But, what lie could convince them? Should she fake ignorance? No, that would be an insult to their intelligence.

“Well, about that,” she said with a grimace. “I have heard both of your names before by another vampire, but that vampire said one of you was afraid of Children of the Moon, so I was surprised that you had been fighting them.”

The outrage on Caius face confirmed that they had believed her lies, and she patted herself on the back for choosing that misdirection instead of outright lying. She had heard another vampire said that, specifically Mr. Masen on one of the movies. Hell, if she remembered which, though.

Apparently, whoever had said it was right, the best lies were those who were not lies at all.

“Who said such thing?!” Caius asked.

She shrugged.

“I don’t know, sorry. It was a weird situation. I could not interact with the vampire that said this, but I heard and saw him say it. I can describe him if you want?”

“There is no need,” Athenodora cut Caius off as he was about to speak, sending him a warning look. “Simply know that we are not afraid of the Children, we are simply wary seeing that they are under the control of the Romanians.”

That gave her a pause, feet stopping mid kick and sharp blue eyes focusing on the two vampires.

“Wait. Are you saying that the Romanians can control the Children of the Moon during full moon?” She asked, aghast at the thought. That definitely wasn’t on the movies.

The Romanians used werewolves? What the hell, that was rather smart of them, if not stupidly reckless. Why use the only beast that could actually harm vampires?

“They can’t, but they use them as a sort of vanguard for their army. Usually, they keep the infected humans in silver-made cells, but during the full moons they are set loose on the coven they want to conquer.” Athenodora explained.

“While I can’t necessarily say that what they are doing is not smart, there is a lot of variables regarding werewolves,” Oriana pointed out. “How has this not backfired? Like, vampires and werewolves do not get along, correct?”

“Yes,” Caius said, extending the short syllable as if to imply the information was obvious.

Deciding to ignore his obnoxious tone- the poor man looked like a reject anime boy, she had to give him something- , she dropped down from the branch she had been ‘sitting’ in.

“Then it really doesn’t make sense. Every time they send the hounds out, they run the risk of being attacked by the one creature that could kill them,” she said.

Scratch what she had thought, it was a terrible idea. The risks by far outweighed the benefits of using werewolves. Any sane individual could see that… But then again, it was never claimed that either Stefan or Vladimir were sane . Power-hungry? Yes. Vengeful? Yup. Sane? Not really.

“It does not need to make sense, the Romanians are idiots,” Caius interjected. “Not only has this strategy harmed them already, but giving the Children free reign the one time of the month they are contagious is buffoonery at it’s finest.”

She could not help it, she snorted and was gifted with a withering glare from Caius for her efforts. Luckily, she managed to keep her mouth shut, instead of asking the vampire - who she barely knew - to tell her how he truly felt.

It seemed that the longer the dreams went on, the less self-preservation she had on them. Which made sense but was alarming nonetheless. She had already accepted her new reality inside what basically was a bad Twilight Self-Insert fanfic and that only meant that she had to be more conscious of what she was saying, if she wanted to be alive in the long term. And she did want to be alive in the long term, no matter what her actions were.

“Sorry, sorry. I was just appreciating your word choice,” she shrugged. “Also, I had a question. We already established that the saliva from the Children is toxic, but what exactly does it do ?”

“That is actually quite the question,” Athenodora began, eyes glittering almost as brightly as her skin. “A better question however, would it be, what does it not do? If a human comes in contact with the salive, they will be infected with the disease. If it falls on the ground, it will cause the death of all fauna in a hexapodēs. If a vampire is bitten, they feel immeasurable pain and the bitten zone becomes as black as the night. The nerves surrounding the bitten zone also become deadened and the venom cannot fix that. There is nothing that can cure a vampire’s limb once bitten. However, the saliva is not the only toxic aspect of the creature: any fluid it excretes can be lethal.”

“You have researched this,” Oriana said. There was no need to ask Athenodora, for as she has spoken of the properties of the saliva she had made the same expression a friend of hers’ in her past life, who had been a Biology major at the time, got when she found out something interesting. She had no doubt that the toxicity of the Children was a kind of pet project for her.

“Yes, it is quite the fascinating phenomena,” Athenodora admitted. “Did you know that if a human is infected and a vampire drinks from them, the vampire will be slowly be killed by the very blood that sustains them? It seems as if the very essence of the Children is lethal to vampires, however, the opposite also seems true. An infected human cannot be turned, they would simply die a terrible death.”

Well, that made quite the picture.

“So,” Oriana began slowly. “You are saying that the Children are basically an all-purpose biological weapon. They can be used to essentially salt the earth, keep vampires at by and punish and terrorize humans.”

“Correct,” Caius said, his glare weakening and turning into interest.

“And the Romanians not only a) believe that this is a good idea but b) are allowing their own food source to be contaminated? What happens if every human in the continent becomes infected?” She asked.

“Nothing good,” Caius answered. “However, the Romanians don’t seem to have the presence of mind to realize this. Nor they realize what it would mean for their rule. As it is, they managed to gain the upper hand in this continent because there is no other coven to content with them. Still, their rule is precarious. The ruling covens from the other continents are allowing this simply because it does not affect them.”

“But if all humans in this continent become infected, then…” Realization hit her like a truck, taking her breath away. “Then it will affect them .”

“Yes, and they will have no choice but to interfere.” Caius said. “There is a reason why Athenadora and I are attempting to curve the effect of the Children of the Moon, and this is it.”

“Wouldn’t that be a good thing?” She asked. From the information she had, which she had to admit was limited, it seemed like a good idea for someone to interfere. “The Romanians would no longer be in power.”

Caius shook his head while Athenodora grimaced.

“Not quite,” Athenodora said.

“Why?” She asked.

Caius took a deep breath and looked straight into Oriana’s eyes.

“Because if the ruling covens of neighboring continents intervene, they will raze this place to the ground.” He revealed. “Better to burn the infection out than to let it spread.”

After Caius admission a somber silence had fallen upon the three of them, one that she had no desire to break, so she had not. For the rest of her dream, she had remained silent, turning Caius words inside her head. As much as she hated to admit it, in a cold, logical way, razing the continent made sense. And if things truly became so terrible, what else could they do but burn the Children? If they did not, they could threaten the planet.

Yes, it made sense, but that didn’t mean she had to like the idea.

Once upon a time, she had actually felt bad for the Romanians. Once upon a time, she had thought that the Volturi shouldn’t have killed their mates. Now, with the weight of knowledge on her mind, she wondered if Stefan and Vladimir had been punished enough . As it was, they were at the verge of causing a continent-wide genocide and they didn’t seem to care, if the way they kept using the Children said anything.

Not that anything could be done at the moment, with no coven to oppose them. There was no Aro to suss out gifted individuals. No Marcus or Didyme to bring the coven together. Caius had no desire to rule a coven with an iron first. No, nothing could be done yet.

But.

But as she watched the forest she dreamed of from the future, Oriana realized that sooner or later, the Volturi would form, with or without her help.

They would form and rise to power, with their ranks filled with gifted individuals. They would become powerful enough to rule the world for centuries. And that was without her help, without the knowledge she brought to the table.

With it? There was little that could stop the Volturi from becoming the most powerful coven in Europe. There was only one hurdle they had to overcome before that happened.

The Romanians had to go.

Chapter Text

The Romanians had to go. That much was clear. The means of dethroning, however? That was less clear. There was nothing of the actual struggle in the books, well, nothing but the statement that Alec and Jane were essential for the Volturi’s victory, and it had been widely agreed back then that the twins couldn’t have been alive when the Volturi fought the Romanians. It was chronologically impossible. Apart from that, she had nothing. No information on the war between the two covens, not tips on who to recruit… Nothing.  

The lack of information was a risk, but one that she was willing to take. As far as she knew, there were no alternative coven other than the Volturi, and even if there was, she wouldn’t have been nearly as willing to work with them. The Volturi could be incredibly dangerous, yes, but they were the closest she had to a known variable in a world of unknowns. And well, they had already defeated the Romanians once. Granted, it had been in another universe, but they had done it. 

It seemed that the logical choice would be to help the Volturi overthrow the Romanian coven, so she would. 

But how? Making the choice to help was easy, deciding how to do so, was decidedly less so. After all, overthrowing a reigning coven required a great deal of planning between conspiring parties, which she didn’t have… At least not yet. The Volturi coven hadn’t formed yet. Aro wasn’t a vampire. The three hadn’t met. She was alone, and she would be until the coven formed. 

Right now, all she could do was to begin planning… Which in all honesty seemed to her like a bit of a cop-out. Oriana prided herself of her intelligence, but her knowledge regarding military strategism was lacking. By a lot.  Yes, she could read some books about strategy, but by no means would that make her a master at the art. No, she needed Caius for that stage of the planning. So that was also out. 

In theory, she could wait. Until the coven had formed, until the pieces fell in place.  She could wait, but really, she had never liked waiting very much. Not when she had something interesting to play with. Biding her time for the game to end was easy, waiting for it to begin? Not so much. It made her restless, and she didn’t like that, at all. She wanted to set things into motion, even if it was ever-so-slightly. 

Luckily, both to her and her patience, Oriana knew were her expertise laid, and while military strategism wasn’t one of her strengths, research was . 

So research she did. She began with the big picture, adding to the pile of historical inconsistencies she had already amassed. Then she began to “zoom in” and with that came research into the time period, which she guessed to be around the time of the Trojan War due to Marcus’ comments and recorded events. So, twelfth century BCE, more or less. 

At that point in her research, she hit her first hurdle. The internet was currently not her ally, so she had resorted to using the public library for her research. She loved her public library, really, but while there were books in the library about her time period, there just weren’t enough books. But really,in her not-so-professional opinion, there were never enough books about anything . Still, what she found was enough to give her the general idea of the Romanians influence in Ancient Europe. 

It wasn’t pretty. 

As much as she regretted to admit it, ancient history- especially ancient European history- was not her fort. But she did know enough to pinpoint what she hoped where most of the changes to history the addition of vampirism had caused. If not, at least she had enough. Enough to make what she thought was a pretty clear pattern of the Romanian expansion. Enough to see the little oddities easily overlooked but still clearly there . One village wiped out without explanation, another filled with bloody garments, and so on. Small details that by themselves would have been innocuous, but that together were telling .

Little by little, she compiled her information. Little by little, she made her notes. Soon, she found herself using her allowance to print and laminate a big map of Europe. From there on, it took her less than two days to cover the map with red pins.

Red for the eyes of the predator.

Red for the blood of massacres committed under the Romanian’s domain.

Red as the only standing monument of their sins. 

However, red was not the only color dotting the map. There were green pins peppered throughout the eastern part of Europe on specific cities. One on Amathus, Greece, another over the ancient city of Corinth. The color, however, was not the only difference between the two types of pins. The red pins stook blank, as the faceless maniacs that they represented, while the green had pieces of tape taped to the sides. Each piece of tape had written on them a name, a brief description, and a time period attached to them in embellished Ancient Greek. 

Charmion, follower of Aphrodite,  fl. 1190 BCE.

Proteus, supposed god amidst men, fl. 1176 BCE.

Artakama, skillful manipulator, fl. 324 BCE.

Goiswintha, warrior queen, fl. 567 CE. 

Exceptional individuals, each of them recorded by the annals of history but not infamous enough to be known . 

Each of them a perfect ally. Each of them a possible guard. 

It took anywhere from eighteen days to two-hundred fifty four days for the average person to make a habit. 

It took her one month to recreate her previous routine. 

The dreams, of course, became the centerpiece of her day to day. How could they not? They were titillating, invigorating , and yet they were not everything. She knew this well. While she did focus a great deal of her time scheming and unraveling the threads of change, she still made sure to spend time with her friends and family. Yes, the world of her dreams was fascinating, however she did not want to be the kind of person who lost her head to her dreams. Not in this life, not when it was her second chance to truly live . 

No, she did not let her dreams overcome her, but she did let them become part of her routine. They had already been a part of it after all, but now instead of Marcus being the protagonist of her dreams, she spent her nights visiting battle-tested vampires, debating with aristocratic teens. 

Life for her went on, abnormal in a world of oddities. 

The oddness she had grown so fond of was underlined the moment she realized that the times in her dreams did not match . If the timeline she had constructed through her conversations with Marcus and Aro, then that meant that Aro lived more than a hundred years into Marcus’ future. And she also had to take into account the fact that she had little to no clue where in that hundred year period were Caius and Athenodora located. 

The lack of knowledge infuriated her, but no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t seem to make the timeline fit. At the end, she had to drop that line of questioning because all the mental mathematics were giving her a headache.

So she forgot the idea of making sense of the strange timeline, but she did not forget Aro’s advice. Instead, as suggested, she began trying . 

It was surprisingly enlightening and utterly mind boggling.

Not only did Aro’s advice lead her to discover that she could in fact control where the visits happened, and with whom, but also when they happened. Extremely convenient really, but also more of a hindrance than anything else. The fact that she could have multiple dreams on the same night while at the same meeting with every future coven member was delightful, the discovery of the more concrete sleep time-traveling? Not so much. 

The first discovery had come as quickly and as easily as the dreams had come at the very beginning. She had simply tried going to bed while thinking of the people she wanted to visit during her sleep, and ta da ! It was done. The second discovery wasn’t nearly as quick or easy. Instead, it was brought forth by a series of circumstances that no matter what she would never tell Aro because goodness gracious that is embarrassing.  

With the dreams and the research and her first discovery, time flew past her faster than what she had thought possible. Soon, she found herself waking up the morning of the eighteenth of September. 

The morning of her eleventh birthday.  

A very important date, if she were to say so herself, for it was the day she would receive her Hogwarts letter… Or she would have, if she had been lucky enough to be reborn in a world where magic was real. Instead she got somewhat cheated by the cosmic lottery and ended up in a world where she was at the bottom of the food chain. Sometimes it felt like if she had entered the cosmic lottery and ended with a second place prize. Or maybe third? Nonetheless, the prize was not nearly as enticing as the first one, but now she couldn’t give it back.  

Instead of a letter of a magic school, she got a trip to Disneyland, which she had asked for, and a concussion, which she hadn’t . And it was her first concussion on both her lives! What a lucky break, not . Still, somewhat luckily for her, it was only a mild concussion. Unluckily, that meant that she didn’t get to skip a month of school as she had hoped. She also came out of the whole debacle with an intense distrust in the Wonderful World ride, but none had ever asked why. Still, she had thought that would have been all she had gotten.

She had been wrong. 

Oriana didn’t know whether or not her ability to choose when she dreamt came from turning eleven or from her concussion, what she did know was that she discovered it shortly after recovering from the concussion. 

It had been such an odd discovery too.

It had gone a little like this: 

It took her twelve days to heal from her mild concussion, overall not too long but long enough for Oriana. Why? Because in the twelve days it took for her to heal, she did not dream at all . 

Understandably, by the end she was all but crawling up the walls of her room trying to come up with an explanation as to why she didn’t dream. By the time October rolled in, she had no explanation. Nothing, zero, nada . 

Not until she went to sleep on the night of the first of October. That night, she dreamed of a charred meadow shrouded by the darkness, a sliver of the rising moon shining upon her. Surprised as she had been, she hadn’t been able to hold back the curse that had fallen from her lips as she took in the scene around her. 

“Seriously? What the hell happened here?” She asked the air, not expecting an answer but wanting to air her grievances nonetheless. . 

She, however, should have known better than to ask such a question. Out of nowhere, her surroundings began to change, flames flickering to live and engulfing her before moving back and becoming candles set around what now was a fairytale worthy meadow.  

And it seemed she wasn’t the only one who thought that the meadow was beautiful, if the two strangers having a go at each other a few feet away said anything. 

“What the fuck?” She asked again, forgetting that if she didn’t try hard enough people could see and hear her, and therefore reacting in surprise when the couple startled so badly they accidentally knocked down a couple of the candles set around the meadow and started a fire. 

Watching as the candles set the meadows in fire, she moved her hands as to encompass the entire thing and shook her head in astonishment.

Soon she was surrounded by flames, and soon the meadow had become the charred background she had seen at the beginning of her dream.

Once the meadow had burned to the ground, she sighed.

 “Well, shit ,” she said softly but with feeling. 

Tapping her pencil’s against the test she was supposed to be taking, Oriana glanced at the clock tick tocking away in the corner of the classroom and sighed. She still had another ten minutes of wait before she could turn it in without any raised brows, and even that was pushing things. Biting her tongue, she glanced around and watched as another kid went up to turn in the test. He was the fifth one that had done so. Soon it would be her turn. 

But she still had to wait .

Clicking her tongue at the thought, she twirled the pencil absentmindedly as her eyes fell on the paper in front of her, unseeing. 

Her last dream had left her off-pace, confused.  Unfortunately, that was a feeling she had begun to familiarize herself with. Lately, it seemed that every time she came close to learning the rules of the game a new rule or player was thrown in, just to keep her off-balance.

She did not like not being in control. 

Yes, the new development was certainly useful , but it was equally dangerous . As it was, she was reticent to the idea of making any changes to her machinations. Not for a lack of ability to do so, but out of precaution. She was playing the game of politics, and if she threw caution to the wind she would lose. She was not in the business of losing, so she needed to keep her ducks in a row. 

Additionally, if she truly were to use the time traveling aspect of her dreams, things would turn out too complicated. 

She had been careful not to put her fingers into too many pies, but she still had more than enough on her plate. Already the threads of conversations between future coven members were slipping, mixing into each other and causing difficulties. She didn’t even want to think on what she would have to do to keep up if she were to jump around the timeline more than she was already doing. It was a task too arduous for her to take on, especially since she was planning to overthrow a bunch of crazy idiots and any mistake could be her last.

She had seen one too many time travel movies and knew that time traveling to make things easier was a slippery slope to accidentally undermining herself.   

No, she could not abuse this new part of her gift. A hundred years. That was all the leverage she was going to give herself. A hundred years to play around with, not more. 

Nodding to herself, she glanced at the clock and smiled.

Time to turn the test in. 

“So, this doesn’t look good,” she commented as she materialized next to Marcus, swallowing back the urge to gag at the sight.

Used as he was to her comings and goings, Marcus barely glanced her way as he took in the village in front of them. Or at least, what once upon a time had been a village, if the bloody corpses laying on the streets and the half-destroyed buildings were any indication of what once stood where it now was destruction. 

The sight was horrifying, but she felt nothing. 

She felt empty .

“You don’t say,” Marcus said dryly as he began to walk. 

“How many does this make?” she asked as she reached his side, carefully of side-stepping over the carelessly thrown corpses. 

Eyes falling upon a little straw doll laying in pieces on the dirt, Oriana bit her tongue and swallowed back the bile. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen before, hell , she had seen worse . 

Desensitization was such a piece of utter bullshit. 

“Twenty-one,” he said quietly, as if he did not want, did not dare , to disturb the spirits of the people that laid at their feet. 

The people that had been hunted.

That had been massacred . 

Her research had shown her that there had been many villages that had disappeared during this time period, but they had never delved into the whys , the hows , of their disappearance. History had simply deemed them as gone .  

One moment here, the next gone.

The only reminder of their existence being their stone foundations and the mentions on merchant logs. 

The Gods only knew how many were truly gone. Only they knew their number, but Oriana had hers. It was twenty-one.

Twenty-one villages wiped out.

Five hundred and twenty-six buildings destroyed.

An average of two hundred sixty-seven bodies strewn haphazardly on the ground. 

“Time?”

“About six months since your last visit, three years since the turning.”

They had only started counting two years ago .

Her teeth dig into her tongue in order to swallow back her screams. 

Next to her, Marcus bent down and picked up a ribbon splattered with tears.

Taking a deep breath, she locked her anger away(and that hadn’t been a surprise? The realization that she still cared about people, even if she cared for Marcus more ?) and looked around with a cool gaze.

“Has it been full moon recently?” she asked as her eyes caught the claw marks marring the building across them. That seemed like the work of the Children. A quick glance down only confirmed that observation, renewing her desire to throw up in the process. 

“It was yesterday,” Marcus said as he sighed and deftly tied the ribbon around his wrist and got to work. 

By now the process had become familiar. Slowly, Marcus gathered the bodies of the fallen and moved them to the town square. She shadowed his movements. Silent, waiting, watching . 

It was always the same song and dance.

Gathering the bodies on the village square and setting a pyre. Methodically gathering the belongings of the deceased and burning them with the bodies.

For dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return. 

Once, she had asked Marcus why did he burn their things. He had looked at her and said.

“I will not allow the Romanians to scavenge the belongings of their victims.”

She had not asked again. 

Once all the bodies had been gathered, once the pyre had been set, Marcus turned and looked at her. 

“Is this what awaits me for eternity?”

He always asked, and her answer was always the same. 

“No,” she denied. “I am not sure when it stops, but I do know that by the time I am born this situation will have stopped. I would have heard if something like this was common.”

She watched as Marcus took a deep breath, one that he didn’t need to survive but to cope , and nodded. 

“Alright,” he said. “Alright.”

Giving the pyre one last look, he turned and strode out of the village. She followed.

“Now tell me, how have you been, Oriana?” Marcus asked. 

This, too, was routine and she took to it like a fish to water. 

“Well, I have been well, but you wouldn’t believe what Aro said last time I went to visit him.” She said as they began to walk down the road that leads to the next village.

“What did he say?” Marcus asked with fond amusement. 

“I did tell you I speak multiple languages, right? Well, he asked me to teach him and then had the audacity to make fun of my teaching. El descaro que tiene ...”

Surely things could go according to plan at least once? Surely nothing could throw a wrench into what she had already planned? 

Wrong .

Somewhere else, sometime else, an asshole was laughing their ass off while watching her struggle against the current of fate. 

Why else didn’t things ever go as planned? 

Why else was she too late, again ? She had been too late to avoid the drunk driver, too late to warn Marcus about the dangers that lurked in the shadows. 

It seemed to be a fatal flaw of hers, that of being too careful. Too hesitant to move without a safety net. She had been too hesitant in her past life too, but before it had never ended as it did now. 

She had been too hesitant to turn Aro early,  and now she was too late to stop the vampire from sinking his teeth into his neck. 

And that wasn’t even the crux of the issue. She had reluctantly learned to cope when she was too late, but she was never just too late. 

No, it seemed that she lived in a paradox in which she was positioned on the spot in which she was both too late and not too late. One day, she would joke that she lived in the intersection between early and late, the Oriana time zone. Always late enough not to make the first move, but never late enough to lose all her advantage. 

But that would be later.

As she watched the unknown vampire sink his teeth on Aro’s neck, she didn’t feel much like joking.

No, she felt furious . 

All she had wanted to do was delay Aro’s transformation a couple of years more. Instead, her efforts and constant struggle to convince Aro that a later turning date was more beneficial than not were thrown down the drain by a stranger. And not any stranger, but a Romanian if the accent she had heard was anything to go by. 

So yes, it was understandable that she was angry. 

She was aware that no plan survives first contact with the enemy. That nothing was set in stone. She knew . But seven hells, it was an insult to her hard work so far and she was pissed.  Therefore, it was more than understandable that the first thing she did after shaking off the shock of seeing another one of her friends being bitten was to let out a shriek full of fury and scream. 

“Oh my god, fuck off! ” She said as she materialized in front of the duo. 

What happened next would have been extremely amusing if the situation was not what it was, but since it was, it was just odd. 

The vampire, who had closed his eyes open as he bit into Aro, flinched back at the sound of her voice, letting Aro fall to the wooden floor in the process. Now it was her turn to hold back flinch and silently apologize to Aro. Damn, that must have hurt. 

“Ch-child, w-what are y-you?” A heavily accented voice asked, fear evident on its tone. 

Wait a minute. Fear ? That couldn’t be possible.

Looking up to confirm her suspicions, she blinked slowly at what she saw. Wild eyes on a sunken face, a snarl forming on his lips. The look of a cornered predator. It had been fear, what she had heard. But why? She was self-aware enough to know that she wasn’t intimidating. At least not currently. Not while looking like an eleven year old. Unless… No, that was ridiculously overpowered, there was no way she could change shape on her dreams… Right?

Archiving that thought for another time, she glanced down and didn’t bother holding back the gleeful grin that spread across her face once the reason of the vampire’s fear clicked. Right, she had forgotten that she had gone to bed in a loose white nightgown. She had forgotten that she looked washed out.

She had forgotten that she looked like a ghost in an age where myth was taken for truth and magic was hidden around every corner.  An age were ancestors were thought as protectors of their descendants. 

Oh, that was going to be fun . 

Grin widening until she was sure it showed enough teeth to be uncanny, she took a step towards the vampire and her eyes widened in delight when he took a step back . 

“What am I?” She tilted her head slowly as she hummed, smile still perfectly in place. “Who I am, what I am… Oh, what a curious question,” she said, making sure her voice sounded childlike and oh-so-sweet. “I am Nobody, who are you? Are you Nobody too?” She asked as she began skipping towards the vampire. “But Nobody gets lonely too, wanna stay with me? We can play a game~.” There was a singsong in her voice that she had used in hopes of sounding more unsettling, and it seemed that it was working, for the vampire was quickly stepping back as she moved closer. Still, he was moving at a human pace, paralyzed in fear as he was, so it only took her a couple more skips until she was a mere meter away. Once she was close enough to touch, she rocked on her feet and gave the stranger what she hoped was a manic smile. “ Boo .”

It worked like a charm. 

Between one blink and the next, the vampire was gone, nothing but empty air where he once was. 

She snorted.

Well, it seemed that the lion had been scared away by the lamb. 

Her amusement, however, was cut short by a groan of pain coming from behind her.

“Oh, shit. Aro ,” suddenly remembering why she had resorted to scaring vampires away on the first place, she turned and ran back to Aro’s side. “You are going to be fine. I mean, people have told me that turning feels like being burned to hell and back, but that you are feeling this means that you are on the path to becoming a vampire. So, yay?” She winced when it came out more as a question than as a reassurance. That wouldn’t do. “Alright, so this is what we are going to do. Since I have you as a captive audience right now, we are going to go over the different tenses of modern English and it’s rules again. Because, if I have to go through fifth grade again, you sure as hell are going to go through it with me.” 

The next three nights she spent next to Aro, talking about everything and nothing in order to distract him from the pain. By day, she researched topics that would interest him and memorized them, and by night she let her endless chatter become background noise to his pain. She only disappeared from Aro’s side once, to tell Marcus what had happened and ask him to go meet Aro with a snack. 

After all, she had yet to meet Didyme and she didn’t want Aro accidentally killing his sister in a feeding frenzy. No, she wasn’t going to risk the death of her friend’s mate. Especially with her record when it came to keeping the friends she had made through her dreams alive alive and not vampire alive. 

So yeah, she had called Marcus to give Aro his first “snack”. Better safe than sorry after all. 

Not that it mattered at the end, because instead of falling to the mindlessness of thirst, Aro decided to pull a Bella Swan and was surprisingly polite when he woke up. Up until he sank his fangs into his snack’s neck, that is it. But even that was done with more control than a newborn should have. 

“It seems that your theory is spot on,” Aro commented as he tried to wipe away the blood from his face.  Covered in blood as he was, it wasn’t exactly working for him, but it was amusing to watch. “It does seem, pardon me for a moment-” he wiped his face with his hands and let out a noise of frustration when that only served to spread the blood further. “Honestly, why is blood so sticky?” he grumbled under his breath.

“Here,” Marcus said and offered Aro a set of clothes. “The first hundred feedings or so tend to be rather messy, so I took the liberty of bringing you a change of clothes. They also include a cloth to wipe yourself with. Much easier than just trying to wipe it away.”

“Oh, thank you ,” Aro said in delight, doing a little dance in his place. “You are a delight. You must be Marcus, correct?”

“Indeed, Oriana has told me plenty about you.” 

“Likewise,” Aro admitted with a nod and took the clothes in his arms. “Do turn around, Oriana, dear, so I can change.”

Bobbing her head up and down, she twirled around and stared at the cabin’s wall. 

“So about my theory?” She asked.

“It does seem that knowing of vampirism does grant more control to the recently turned,” Aro said. 

“Well, that is good to know for future reference then,” she said as she ran through what she knew. “If you decided to turn someone in the future for example.”

Staring at the wood, she began to trace the shapes marked into it when a thought popped into her mind.

“I have to ask, did you lure the vampire in? It is kinda odd that he found you in the same cabin you summoned me in,” she said as she rocked back and forth on her heels. 

Behind her the rustling of cloth alerted her to the fact that she should not turn around. 

“That is actually the odd part,” she heard Aro said as she began counting the lines on the wood. “I did not lure the vampire in, or do anything you would deem as ‘shady’. I had simply wanted to read in peace and my youngest brother is in the developmental stage in which he cannot keep quiet. Even Didyme wanted some peace and quiet. She went as far as calling upon a friend in order to get away from the noise. I simply chose the cabin, because it was far enough so that I wouldn’t be bothered.”

Humming thoughtfully, she shrugged and tucked away what seemed to be the first piece of information she had of Didyme .

“I guess he was passing through. But I do have to admit, it is kind of concerning to see a Romanian in Greece,” she admitted and bit her lip in concern.

“It is a concern,” Marcus agreed. 

“Perhaps we can track him? Last I heard from Oriana, you were practicing tracking, Marcus,” Aro suggested. “I am done changing.”

Turning around, she nodded at Aro.

“The clothes suit you,” she said and looked at Marcus. “Think you can do it?”

She watched as Marcus frowned thoughtfully and sniffed the air around him. 

“Perhaps. I am not yet an expert, but whoever turned Aro reeks like sickness and old blood, so it wouldn’t be hard to follow for a couple of miles. More than that, and I am not so sure,” he admitted. 

“That would be more than enough, we just need to make sure he did not stop at my village,” Aro assured. “I would rather it did not suffer the same fate as the villages you have come upon on the past.”

She grimaced. 

“Yeah, that would be good. Let’s track him and hope for the best, then.”

She should have known not to hope for the best. Hoping hadn’t worked for her in the past, and it didn’t seem to work now . 

“Fuck,” she cursed as what was left of the village came into view. “Aro, where is your house?”

Her question was met in silence, and when she turned there was no one next to her. 

“Seriously, both of you leave me behind? Assholes,” she muttered as she closed her eyes and concentrated on Aro. Once she opened her eyes, she found herself looking at the ruins of what seemed to be the home of an aristocrat. Looking around, she sighed in relief when she saw that Marcus had chosen to follow Aro and not go out on his own. 

Rushing to their side, she opened her mouth to ask them why they had left her behind, but it snapped closed when she saw what Aro was kneeling next to. 

A toddler. Or what was left of him . 

They had killed a toddler. 

Shit. 

“ Nikandros ,” Aro whispered brokenly as he caressed the toddler’s cheek. “My sweet baby brother. Sleep now, dearest.”

Her breath caught in her throat and she swallowed back the urge to cry the tears her friend no longer could cry. It wasn’t the time. Soon it would be, but first…

“You mentioned a Didyme,” she asked softly as she went to stand next to Aro. “Have you seen her yet? Your mother? Father? Perhaps there is someone we can save. I could see some fires on the village, the attack must have happened recently. Perhaps there is someone out here we can save.”

Oh, how she hoped that was true. That Didyme was alive and well. This time not only for Marcus and his future with her, but also for Aro . To lose your whole family mere hours after turning into a vampire… That would be devastating for him. 

“Father was, uhm. Mother’s b-body. I mean,” Aro took in a shuddering breath. “I saw mother’s and father’s body already, but I-I haven’t found her bo-. I haven’t seen Didyme,” he said haltingly, as what he said slowly dawned on him. He jumped to his feet and turned to Marcus, red eyes wide and desperate. “We need to find her! But she wasn’t on the ruins, wasn’t she home when the attack happened? No! She called upon a friend-!” Without finishing his sentence, he turned around and took off running. 

Turning to Marcus, she nodded towards were Aro had disappeared. 

“We need to follow him,” she said. “And. If- No, when we find his sister. Please turn her yourself, you have been alive long enough to control yourself. I don’t think he will be able to do so in the emotional state he is in.”

“Of course,” Marcus assured her softly and took off after Aro. 

Sighing, she took a deep breath and looked at Nikandros one last time. 

“I will make sure the Romanians suffer for eternity for this,” she swore in the ruins of her friend’s home, amidst the corpses of what once had been a family. 

Then, Oriana closed her eyes and thought of her friends. 

Only to open them to find her ceiling instead of the ruins of Aro’s village. 

“Oh, c’mon!” She whisper-screamed as she kicked the covers off her. Glancing at the time, she sighed. She had woken ten minutes before her alarm, again . 

Stomping to her dresser, she slammed the door open and winced at the sound of the door hitting against the wall. 

“Oriana!”

“Sorry mom!” She called as she browsed her closet for something nice to wear. If she was going to have a bad day, at least she could wear something she liked. 

“I am home!” She called out as she stepped into the house, backpack weighing her down. “Gonna read in my room!”

“Alright, cariño, I will call you when dinner is ready,” her mom said from her place in the couch. 

Nodding, she took a quick detour to give her mami a quick kiss on the cheek and then made a beeline for her room.

Once the door closed behind her, the cheerful expression on her face disappeared and was replaced by pure annoyance. Throwing her backpack into her bed, she took two strides and grabbed a pillow. Burying her face in it, she screamed in frustration. 

It had been a terrible day. 

Yeah, her friends were cute and it was fun teasing them, but she had forgotten a crucial fact: children can be cruel. Like John Mulaney said, or will say?, children were mean but in an accurate way, and apparently being a little odd was grounds for bullying. Who would have known?

And yeah, the attempts at bullying her were more amusing than anything, but her friends were being bullied too for being friends with her. 

That couldn’t stand, and it hadn’t. But dealing with the fallout of exposing the bullies was exhausting . Especially since she had to be careful so that no one knew of her involvement. 

She really didn’t have the mental or emotional energy to deal with the kind of convoluted bullshit both on her dreams and on her day to day. 

Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair. If there was something she needed  more than anything, it was a break, sadly that seemed to be off the books. 

The dreams were a fascinating phenomena, but they took away the sweet respite of sleep and left her with nowhere to retreat. They were as stressful as they were fulfilling. She enjoyed them, yes, but she was burning the candle from both ends. She needed a way to balance things out, or she would burn out. 

She couldn’t afford to burn out. 

Not now.

Not with Didyme's fate unknown, not when the coven wasn’t anywhere near forming. She needed something to distract her, something to let her rest. She needed a hobby. But which one?

Glancing at the clock, she took a deep breath and weighed her options. She needed something that could only be used as a hobby. That had no advantages or strategic use. Something that would lull her into a calm, but had a satisfactory conclusion so that she could feel rewarded. Light flickering back into her eyes, she turned and opened her door. 

“Mom, can you teach me how to cook?”

That night when she opened her eyes, she was met with the judgmental stares of two vampires. 

“Okay, first of all-,” she began to excuse herself.

“Look who finally designs herself to visit, Athenadora,” Caius interrupted with a sneer. 

She rolled her eyes. 

“I am sorry, I was dealing with something,” she paused. Looked up, then down at the couple.  “Actually, I am still dealing with something.”

“What is so important you missed our last meeting?” Athenodora asked from where she was reclining against rock.

“Another village in Greece has been attacked,” she informed them. “This time farther south than the last.”

Blink and you would miss it, but her words caused both of the vampires she had grown close to react. It was a barely-there frown, but it had been there . 

“You have a theory,” she said, not bothering to ask. She had spent less time with Athenodora and Caius than with Aro and Marcus, but she had spent enough time with them to know them. They were not yet the creatures of legend that they would be, with a millennium of ruling under their belt. No, they still have tells. Small and almost unnoticeable, but she noticed .

“As long as we have walked this earth, the Romanians had remained close to their territory. Perhaps out of safety and a desire to remain close to what they love, regardless of the reason, until recently, they rarely left their self imposed boundaries,” Athenodora said as she straightened and began to pace. “Caius and I didn’t even begin fighting the Children until the last century, but things have changed. The variables are too many to truly understand their movement, but we do have a theory, a rather daunting one if I have to say so-.”

“We believe they are expanding,” Caius said and put a calming hand on Athenodora’s shoulder, effectively cutting through her nervous rambling and grounding her. “Athy thinks that the have finally realized that their territory won’t sustain them forever so they had decided to conquer the rest of the continent.”

And just like that, it clicked. The new additions to the map. From the moment they had set foot on the first ruined village, she had begun to track the destruction with yellow pins. She had spent hours agonizing about their locations, wondering what made them significant. But she had overlooked the most important factor to consider: the locations themselves made them desirable as targets. They were mountain towns overseeing passes, villages in the heart of the trade routes. 

“They are slowly moving south, aren’t they?” She said, chewing her lip nervously. “But what is the end goal? They would need to have some sort of plan, but they have specifically targeted villages and then left them without any sentiments.”

Athenodora and Caius shared a look.

“We still are not completely sure,” Athenodora admitted. “There seems to be a pattern to their movements, but we don’t have enough information yet. However, they have barely begun to venture into Greece in the last few years. From what we have noticed, there is a decent population of our kind in the region and they seem to be wary of too much backlash.”

“It does make sense,” Caius said, eyes narrowed in thought. “From what I have heard from their region, there was little to no vampires until they appeared. They must be using the peninsula as a proving grounds of sorts.”

She grimaced.

“That doesn’t sound good in the slightest,” she said and went to continue when a howl cut through the night. “I suppose this is the end of our conversation for today, then. I have friends to find and I am guessing you two have Children to kill?”

“Indeed,” Caius nodded. “Farewell and may Tyche hound your steps.”

“You do know that is the most unsettling way to wish someone luck, right?” she asked. 

“Is it?” He asked, the slightest twitch of his lips betraying his amusement. 

“Of course,” she said. Smiling at the two of them, she bobbed her head in goodbye. “Good luck with your hunt, may the Huntress watch over you. And whatever you do, don’t let the Children catch you.”

With that, she closed her eyes and thought of Marcus. 

Opening her eyes, she looked around the ruins of the lively square in a frenzy, only pausing to sign in relief when her eyes fell upon Marcus and Aro and the screaming body next to them.

As she approached, sharp eyes took the scene in front of her apart, from the way Aro was sitting, slumped against the wall not-quite-defeated while eyeing the woman as if she were salvation, to how Marcus was kneeling next to her, stroking her hand and speaking of vampirism in soothing tones. 

It was an odd sight to be relieved of, but deep inside her a spark of hope was lit. Maybe, just maybe, not everything was lost. 

“Apologies for disappearing on you,” she said as she stopped a few steps away from the screaming woman. “I do have worthwhile information regarding the massacres that may help on a later date, but before I get into that,” she let her eyes fall upon the woman on the ground. Pausing for a moment to take a breath, she found solace in the familiar features. “This is…?”

The silence that followed was brief, but it held the anticipation of months of waiting, the fear of failure. It was a charged silence, and it was fit to be punctuated by the screams of the young woman in the ground.

“My sister, Didyme,” Aro said softly. 

A sigh of relief escaped her lips. 

“That is,” she breathed in. “That is good.”

Moving next to Aro, she dropped down to the floor next to him and fell silent. Together, they watched as Marcus reassured Didyme in silence. 

She spent the time surveying their surroundings noting the way the buildings seemed to have been either clawed or smashed open, the small patches where the vegetation seemed to have been corroded away by some sort of acid. It was a haunting sight, but it lacked the human component. 

Marcus must have already set the pyre then.

Glancing at Aro, she closed her eyes to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. In moments like this she wished oh so desperately that she could actually touch the people around her. She wanted to comfort her friend, hold him while he struggled with the knowledge that in the span of a few days everything he knew was gonel, but she couldn’t and that pained her. She wanted to help ground him, to help carry the weight of loss he was buckling under. She wanted, but she could only help if he let her. 

“Am I a bad brother?” Aro broke the silence, eyes still on his sister. 

“What makes you think that?” She asked. 

“I should be the one comforting her, not a stranger, but the thought of going closer,” he shuddered. “You told me that vampires remember everything they have experienced since their turning. I thought it was a gift, but I am starting to see that it is not just that. I do not think I will be able to forget Dydi’s screams.”

“If it is for that, no. I don’t think you are a bad brother,” she said and when Aro went to interrupt her, she lifted her hand. “No, let me finish. I don’t think you are bad brother, I just think that too much has happened to you too quickly. Vampirism may be a gift to you, but it still comes with a great deal of sensory overload. You should have had time to grow accustomed to your new reality, but instead you were thrown head first into the water. You have been experiencing traumatic experience after traumatic experience since you have been turned, and even now, even as a vampire… There is only so much one can take before they can’t take it anymore. I think you are past that point.”

She paused, but when she saw that Aro had no intention of saying anything, she continued. 

“And even if Marcus is a stranger, I have told you enough about him for you to realize that leaving Didyme in his hands was a good choice,” she said and looked back at Marcus. “Actually, I am betting that if you had thought Marcus was untrustworthy, you would have not allowed him close. Instead, you let him take charge.”

From her peripheral, she saw Aro nod slowly. 

“That does, well, that makes sense,” he admitted slowly. “Before, in the cabin when he was giving me the change of clothes… My fingers brushed against him. I saw his entire life flash before my eyes. That paired with what you have told me did make it easy to trust on him.”

“See?” She asked, turning towards him. “You were making a conscious choice when you let him take care of your sister. One you thought best. You are not a bad brother, you just can’t deal with everything yourself. It’s good to relay in others, y’know?”

Biting back my friends are my power was hard, but even if she did manage to reference Naruto it wasn’t the time .

“I suppose,” he said, then blinked and turned to her, looking away from her sister for the first time since she had gotten there. “You said you had information,” he narrowed his eyes, a sliver of something evident on them. “Information regarding the massacres . Was this planned?”

It took a moment to place the emotion coating his words, but once she realized it was anger she straightened up. 

As a species, humanity stands at the precipice of change on a daily basis but we as a group rarely notice. As individuals, this cliff is easier to identify by the swooping of one’s stomach and the sweating of their palms. 

That was exactly what Oriana felt once she identified the feeling in Aro’s eyes. The anger and hatred that delved there. At that moment, she was at the precipice of change, and like Isabella would do, she decided to jump without any precaution. 

“Yes, it seems that way,” she said, soft voice echoing in the suddenly too quiet square. 

“ Who did this ?” Aro asked, revenge in his tongue and condemnation in his eyes. 

“Someone who wants to rule the continent, someone who cares not of how many lives are lost in the process,” Marcus said, eyes sad. In those eyes, Oriana saw understanding and she realized that Marcus had also made the same connection as Caius and Athenodora. “Someone who cares not about what comes after.”

“Who,” Aro demanded.

“The Romanians,” she said.

“I will make them suffer for what they have done,” he swore. “I will make sure they lose everything they cherish and make them watch as everything they have built is turned to ashes. I will make them pay , this I swear on Nemesis. They will have no escape.”

Eyes focused on Aro as he made the vow that would lead to the formation of the Volturi, Oriana didn’t notice as Didyme began to stir. She didn’t noticed as she slowly opened her eyes to her new afterlife. She didn’t notice.

But Marcus did. 

Chapter Text

Heavy silence followed Aro’s declaration. But what else could have followed? Aro had just all but declared war against the most powerful coven in the continent. Nothing but heavy silence could have followed such declaration. At least not with their current audience. After all, the idea of Marcus saying something comic in order to break the tension was too out-of-character and Oriana was smart enough to realize that there was a time and a place for everything… Even if she didn’t always act that way.

However, every heavy silence had to be broken, and this one in particular was broken by the sound of Didyme stirring.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” a woman’s voice broke through the silence with a swiftness akin to lightning. “But you could have made your declaration a little less dramatic, brother.”

Someday, Oriana would get accustomed to vampiric speed. Sadly, it seemed that day was nowhere close because she was completely and utterly unprepared when Aro disappeared from her side. Blinking slowly- and barely managing to stop herself from jumping ten feet into the air out of surprise-, she turned her head towards the woman’s voice and noted that Didyme was not only very awake, but also very aware. 

Uh. Had Aro told his family of vampirism? It would make sense, all things considered. As odd as it sounded to her, Aro was a family man. It only took a couple of meetings with him for her to realize that it was obvious that he cherished his family. Ultimately, it was all very odd for her, since she remembered quite clearly that Meyer had said that he had been the one to kill Didyme. And yet, it was undeniable from the way his face lighted up when he talked about his family.

Oriana had taken that fact for what is was: a warning. If a family man like the Aro she knew was willing to kill his sister, then that meant that he had seen no other choice, whether that was because he was blinded due to panic or because he had set Didyme as a fundamental part of the Guard’s loyalty, it did not matter. What mattered was that she needed to save Didyme for her fate. It was key. The problem was how she was to do so.

Tucking that train of thought for later exploration, she stood up and walked up to the trio. Taking her place next to Marcus, she examined Aro’s enthusiastic response to her sister’s awakening with fondness. They were a cute pair of siblings straight out of a movie. With his vampiric speed, Aro had closed the distance between himself and his sister and had managed to envelop her in a big old hug before anyone could react. Now, the mind reader was spinning his sister around, his delight and his relief barely contained.  

Cute.

Opening her mouth to comment on the adorable scene before her, she turned to Marcus, only to snap her mouth shut when she noticed the look in his eyes. Specifically, the look he was sending Didyme.

It was a mildly confused look, brows furrowed and head tilted to the side, as if he was trying to understand a muffled conversation that he desperately needed to hear. It was a baffled look, that anyone could tell, but only the few who knew Marcus could make out the soft wonder shining underneath.

Clamping her lips shut to fight the upcoming grin, she shifted her weight and let her eyes wander back to the siblings. Raising her right hand in order to hide the full-blown smile that had surfaced against her wishes, she noted that Marcus was not the only one that looked like if they had been hit by a frying pan.

Didyme was also stealing looks of Marcus at every opportunity, even if she was being more subtle than her friend.

Awww. Adorable.

It seemed that vampires could single out their possible mates from the very beginning.

Good to know.

All things considered, however, the whole ordeal wasn’t anything nearly as dramatic as she had expected. The books had made it seem as if meeting one’s mate was akin to the godawful imprinting Smeyer had subjected the shapeshifters to. They had made it seem as if it were an unearthly passion: unstoppable and capable of moving Hell and Heaven. The truth was nothing of the sort, but she had to admit that she probably liked it much better. Instead of a supernatural must be, it was a sort of… Magnetism, she could call it. Not the whole “steel cables and gravity pulling a shifter into their imprint’s orbit” nonsense Smeyer had bullshitted in order to end a love triangle with pedophilia, but something subtler and probably healthier. It was as if the chance of something else was simmering just beneath the surface. It was an opportunity rather than an obligation. A maybe rather than a without-a-doubt. It was a possibility, rather than a reality.

It was completely and utterly adorable to watch. Although, it did mean that she was probably going to be stuck as the spectator of an entanglement that would probably turn into a will-he won’t-he, does-she doesn’t-she kind of situation. Prime telenovela dram, but well, at least she wouldn’t have to deal with them 24/7. Aro didn’t have that option.

Oh well, he would manage.

Probably.

Maybe?

Who was she kidding? It was more than likely that if he approved, he would begin to meddle as soon as his patience ran out.

If he approved.

Shrugging more to herself than to anyone else, she looked around and decided that it was time to move things along. As much as she enjoyed the family reunion and the hope that it brought, she would rather not get stuck with a thirsty newborn for longer than necessary. Clearing her throat, she looked at Aro pointendly when he stopped spinning his sister. He raised his eyebrow in return, sheepishness hidden beneath a layer of disinterest.

Huh, good. He still needed further practice in masking his emotions, but Aro was quickly mastering the ability to create a mask at the drop of a hat.

“I know you are happy, and I fully understand,” she said. “But don’t you think you should offer your sister a snack? She must be rather thirsty.” She added pointedly, eyeing Didyme’s black eyes with caution. She was in no danger of being eaten, but the wariness was still present. Newborns were dangerous after all, especially when thirsty. The fact that Didyme had yet to drink anything and was relatively coherent was a goddamn miracle, but it was also pushing it. She wasn’t about to risk a tragedy before the stage was even set. It was better to let Didyme drink to her heart's content rather than let fate follow its course and have berserk newborn in their hands.

“Oh, Gods,” Aro murmured. “Yes! Apologies. I had rather forgotten about that,” Aro admitted, looking at his sister apologetically.

“It’s understandable Aro,” Marcus assured. “The first few months as a vampire are quite overwhelming without any additional output, with it? It is easy to forget the little things.”

She wouldn’t necessarily call it a little thing, but she did agree with Marcus. After he had turned, he had described to her in detail how it felt to be a vampire, and while she hadn’t experienced it yet, she remembered enough from Breaking Dawn to realize that the change was a drastic one.

Every once in a while, Oriana forgot that vampires were no longer human, until they did something so inhuman that the realization hit all over again. In this particular case, it was what Marcus didn’t do that reminded her of the fact. He didn’t quite shift in place out of nervousness but the air around him made it seem as if he had and the oxymoron of what had and hadn’t happened struck a discordant chord meant to unsettle the average human.

Good thing she had never been an average nothing.

Instead, she simply noted the intent of Marcus non-action and eyed him curiously, wondering his next move.

“If you would like, I could take your sister hunting while you take a moment to collect yourself…? If it is alright with her, I mean.” He added hurriedly afterwards. “And with you! I meant no offense; I just realize that it would be best if you got some time to adapt to your new reality.”

He was fumbling. How human of him.

Biting her lip to suppress a smirk brought forth by the unusual reaction from Marcus, Oriana wiggled her eyebrows at Aro and was rewarded by a sliver of amusement and curiosity making way into his eyes. Attentive as he was, it was likely that Aro had also noticed the quiet magnetism between his sister and her friend.

“I do not mind,” he assured, eyes knowing and flickering from his sister to Marcus in quick succession and she was suddenly reminded of his gift and what it entailed. Figurative lightbulb turning on, she glanced from Aro’s hand, which was still grasping his sister’s hand to his eyes. Noting their slightly glazed look, she blinked as the realization of what it meant slotted into place.

Oh, interesting indeed.

Not only had he touched his sister, but he had also touched Marcus after turning. Therefore, Aro knew Marcus through his thoughts, and knew of the magnetism between the two through her sister’s thoughts. There was no hiding it, Aro knew of the possible bond, probably even more than they themselves did. He knew and was curious about the phenomena, rather than angry.

Excellent.

That was almost as good as him giving them his conditional blessing, for now. “I do feel rather overwhelmed… Didyme, would that be alright with you?”

The question startled Didyme, if the slight jump of her shoulder was anything to go by. In a human it would have not, but in a vampire, even one as newly turned as she was, it was telling. She must have been lost in her thoughts. Thoughts that, all things considered, must have revolved around her handsome friend.

“OH! Of horse, I mean, of course! I would not mind…” Didyme trailed off, her eyes moving away from Marcus to fall upon her. Oriana smiled her most charming smile, hoping to make a good first impression.

Didyme tilted her head in curiosity. “It is that the spectre you talked about, brother?”

“Spectre,” Oriana mouthed, bemused. So that was the title Aro had gone for.

Alright, she could deal with that. It could have been worse.

“Yes, indeed, that is Oriana,” Aro admitted as she waved. “If you would like, we can explain the situation further upon your return.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Marcus actually shift and begin walking towards the siblings.

“As delightful as this conversation is, I do believe it would be better if Didyme feed sooner rather than later,” he reminded them, voice soft, and then gestured at Didyme with a funny little bow that she seemed to find cute. “If you would, miss.”

Didyme nodded and disappeared from Oriana’s view, Marcus following soon after.

“The appeal of a vampire’s mate,” Aro said thoughtfully. “Interesting.”

Oriana looked away from the forest and glanced at Aro, a sort of understanding passing through them as soon as their eyes made contact.

Sometimes understanding others wasn’t about what people said but how they said it. This was one of those cases. It’s had been almost a year of her time since she had met Aro and she knew him well enough now. She knew his tells, his quirks, his tones, his moods. And the tone he was using? It was the one he used when he was scheming.

Her vampire murder-baby was growing up.

She was so proud.

Or at least, she would be, if his schemes didn’t harm Marcus in any way.

“Tidbit for your thoughts?” She said, referring to a longstanding agreement between the two of them, in which they exchanged information for information.

After all, knowledge was power and power was freedom.

“It seems that I will have no issue convincing Marcus to join our endeavors,” he said slowly, as if the pieces of a puzzle where slowly falling into place. “Also, I am quite curious. Is it truly a mate bond, that between Didyme and Marcus? It is inevitable? How does it work? What prompts the bond to be formed?”

She raised a brow. “Was Marcus cooperation ever not a constant of our plans? He has been dealing with the Romanians for far longer than you have, and has made quite clear his opinion on the matter.”

“It may have seemed clear to you but we have yet to discuss these matters face to face,” Aro pointed out, hands moving as if to emphasize his words. “And while I have seen his life, I do not currently know the accuracy of my gift, so I did not want to. How do you say it?” He snapped his fingers and pointed at her. Count my eggs before they hatched.”

“Makes sense,” she said and nodded. “And yes, the mate bond will probably come in handy when cementing cooperation,” and your trust, she added silently to herself. Trust was important, especially if they wanted to fix the Romanian’s mess. “As for the whole ‘mate debacle’, I also have to admit. I am quite curious about it. The phenomenon is odd, to say the least. But it is worth studying.”

“It is, is it not?” Aro agreed with a hum, eyes wandering towards the forest. “I do believe, however, that we should not intervene with it. The risks far outweigh the benefits.”

She could call him on his bullshit, but in all honesty, Oriana was curious to see how long did he last before meddling on his sister’s affairs.

“So, basically, we have to sit back and watch Marcus be the awkward gentle giant that he is, while Didyme gazes at him dreamily?” At Aro’s nod, she snorted. “Oh, this ought to be fun.”

“Indeed.”

Hands behind her head, she settled back and let the sun wash over her. Allowing her thoughts to slow down, she hummed in pleasure as the soft rays fell upon her. The only sound she could hear the soft rustling of the wind against the grass in her yard.

It was the perfect time for a nap. The perfect moment to sleep.

Oh, sleep. The little death. The one thing she would miss the most when - for it was no longer a question of if but of when- she became a vampire. Oh, the sweet release of sleep.

However, it seemed that her nap was not to be. Suddenly she felt rather than see, a shadow fall upon her. Opening one eye to ascertain who had dared to disturb her nap, she sighed when she found that the shadow belonged to Era.

“Nooo, I wanna sleeeep,” Oriana complained half-heartedly, knowing from experience the battle was lost long before it even started.

“Nope. It isn’t time to sleep. It’s time to play,” Esperanza Herrera said, tone stubborn. “Come on. We are playing capture the flag.”

Curiosity piqued, she opened her other eye.

“Oh?” She said. “Who is playing?”

“Abby, Jamie, Lizzie, Mari, Cloe, Tina, Javi, Tom, Dan and Sam.”

Oriana nodded.

“Alright, I am playing.”

Era huffed.

“You were gonna play either way, Ori,” she said. “Come on, let’s go.”

Tense silence hung in the air, but she- strategically and wisefully, she might add- chose to ignore it. There was nothing else she could do, after all. What had happened, happened, and it rather seemed like Caius and Athenodora most definitely did not want to talk about what she had seen as she manifested in the cave.

Clearing her throat- she had meant to do so as a segue into the careful conversation she had planned, but it ended up coming out as much more awkward sounding than she had anticipated-, she pointedly looked out the cave and pretended to be particularly interested in the vines growing around the cave’s entrance.

It was quite the idyllic picture, she had to admit. And quite romantic too. All in all, it did make sense that the scene had put them in mood. Not that she expected for either of them to admit it out loud. Not with how little rapport she had managed to build so far. As much as she hated to admit it, her attempts to befriend Caius and Athenodora were slow at best and glacial at worst. While she had managed to build a good enough rapport with them, it was quite difficult to ascertain whether the foundations of their friendship would make them more likely to be open-minded to her suggestions or not.

“Apologies for my interruption. If you would like it, I could come back at a later time…?”

The answer to her question took form of a brief rustling as the two vampires put their clothes on.

“I take that is a no,” she said with a shrug and waited until the rustling stopped to turn around.

“I hope you realize that at times your irreverence is astounding,” Cauis said as he straightened his robes.

She nodded.

“I do realize it, and if it were to bother you, I would stop,” she said, a playful smile dancing in her lips. “As it is, I think you find it refreshing.” She paused. “Am I wrong?”

“Not entirely,” he admitted slowly, but only after Athenodora nudged him quite violently. “However, there is a time and a place for such things.”

“I suppose so,” she said. “I do promise that I will tone it down if the situation calls for it, or if I get the inkling either of you is not on the correct mood for it.”

Caius nodded as if to signify his thanks.

Or at least that is what she assumed was what he was doing. As much as she tried, she still could not get a good read on either of them. It was somewhat easier to ascertain Athenodora’s reasons, but that was simply because she got enthusiastic when it came to sharing her observations. Apart from those brief moments in which all her walls were down, it was all but impossible to think what she was thinking. She supposed that vampires would be able to see the small micro expressions and perhaps they could understand them more, but alas, she was not a vampire yet. So instead, Oriana had to content herself on trusting that she was guessing correctly.

“Now, what brings you to our presence?” Athenodora piped up. “Any new theories to share? New topics of debate?”

She hummed as she tilted her head as she considered what path to take.

“Not as such,” she said. “Just a small tidbit that I thought you might find interesting, but it would depend.”

“Depend on what?” Athenodora asked.

“On your opinion on possible allies.”

“You are aware of Caius’ temperament,”Athenodora said, the unsaid so why are you asking hanging heavily on the silence between Athenodora’s question and her answer.

She had to be careful when it came to her response. It was a minefield, the conversation they were having. One misstep and all her work so far would be thrown down the rain. That was something she could not afford. The Volturi perhaps could afford it, but all her careful machinations and lofty schemes would be thrown down the drain if she failed to steer the conversation down the correct path.

She wanted to be known, she wanted to be remembered. Most importantly, she wanted to be part of history. Helping the Volturi from the very beginning would do wonders, but if she ruined this, that plan went out the window and she would be back to square zero.

She did not like the idea, at all.

“I do know of it,” she said deliberately, as if she had put thought and care in each word. And she had. “However, I also know of Caius militaristic approach, and there is a strength in numbers.”

“That is correct, but such thing only works if the allies in question are worth having,” Caius said, and she could detect the tiniest sliver of curiosity on his tone. She counted that as a win. “And I am not quite sure if having allies is worth it, at this current time. Our approach has worked well so far.”

She nodded, as if to concede the point. And in some ways, she was. Caius was right, they had a fairly good success rate, but the approach wasn’t sustainable in the long term. Neither was it nearly as perfect as they wanted it to be, but mentioning that would not be of use.

“It has,” she agreed. “But for how much longer? The Romanians are moving at a faster rate than your kill rate, are they not?”

“We know that,” Athenodora interjected, tone soft but clearly incensed. She did not like being told her logic was faulty. Like at all. “We have known that for years, your point?”

“You know that I do not solely dream of you two, correct?” She rushed to say, before Athenodora’s quick mind had enough time to stew. At their nods, she continued. “I am also in contact with a recently formed coven who has set their eyes on destroying the Romanians,” she informed. “They seem to have some solid ideas; however, I believe a more experienced point of view would do wonders.”

She watched with bated breath as Athenodora and Caius exchanged a look full of meaning beyond her comprehension.

“You make a good argument,” Caius relented, reluctantly. “However, we would be more likely to help if we know of their plans to counteract the Romanians. If they have them, let us know and we will think about it.”

“Of course,” she nodded. “I will reach out to you as soon as we further develop our plans.”

Swish. The sound of a pencil twirling nimbly through the air.

A soft exhalation.  

Twirling her pencil once more, she sighed for what it seemed to be the tenth time that hour alone and glared at the blank page in front of her. She knew that it was not at fault, but her mind was blank and she was rather irked by that fact.

She had hit a roadblock on her planning process. Just when she needed her mind the most, it was failing her. It was extremely frustrating, especially since she needed to find a way to introduce her ideas to Aro, Marcus and Didyme quickly but subtly. No way could she just tell them to build an army of vampires, gifted and not, and train them. Not if she wanted the Volturi to reign as they had on the books. They needed to come up with the ideas themselves. Also, knowing Aro as she did, Oriana didn’t quite think he would take to being ordered around kindly. Not when there was so much at stake.

She knew that, according to Smeyer, Alec and Jane had played a major part on the Volturi’s victory over the Romanians, but chronologically it just didn’t make sense. If the books were right, then the twins belonged to the Middle Ages, almost two millennia after Aro’s transformation. That was too long of a gap and it left too little time for the Volturi to cement themselves as a superpower in Europe before Twilight happened. In order to have both a good standing and a solid position by the time Masen decided to fool around with the Statute of Secrecy, they would have to overthrow the Romanians sooner rather than later.  So, they needed another way to win, one that did not solely rely on the gifts of two child soldiers. And yet, they did need gifted individuals.

How could they not? Bringing a gifted vampire to a fight tended to be the equivalent to bringing a gun to a knife fight. So yeah, they needed them.

More than anything, however, they needed bodies. But she refused to think them solely as such. That was the line she would not cross. Yes, they needed numbers to fill their ranks, but she refused to think of people- or at least of people that sooner or later would become her people- as only numbers. She wasn’t that far gone just yet.

Which brought her to her current dilemma. She wanted to create an army, but she did not want to fill it with cannon fodder. She wanted to suggest the recruitment of vampires with and without gifts alike, but she also wanted them to come up with that idea. She wanted the Volturi to rise, but she also didn’t want them to become dependent on her knowledge. She wanted and wanted and wanted, but she didn’t know what to do.

Irritated with her train of thought, she closed her notebook with a snap and stood up.

Staring into a blank page was not going to help with her lack of inspiration. She needed to stop going in circles.

She needed a break.

Hopefully, taking her mind off things would help to get her productive juices flowing once again.

Perhaps baking something would help.

And help it did. Just not in the way she had wanted it to. Going through the motions had managed to slow down her heartbeat and calmed down the runs running through her head. However, there were no miraculous new ideas, no flashes of inspiration striking as if they were lightning. Simply the sudden realization that there was no plan to make. No scheme to plot. Not if she wanted to work with Aro, Marcus and Didyme.

For a moment, she had forgotten that she wanted equality on the ruling process, an open exchange of thoughts and ideas. Baking had reminded her of this, it had reminded her that she was meant to see them as allies, not as pawns and if she wanted to introduce an idea, she just had to do so. Perhaps if she was the one to suggest the army things would change, yes, but had already changed. If she second guessed her every move, she would never go anywhere.

That was the only thing she couldn’t afford to do. She could not afford to bid her time, not if she wanted to go down in history.

And oh, how she wanted to do so.

So, she baked and instead of the enlightenment she sook, she found herself with too many brownies to eat and a different kind of realization. A realization that was somewhat troublesome, if she were to be honest. As much as she enjoyed being in control, she also desired companions with similar levels of cunning. And she knew that one day the Volturi would be the perfect for the role, just maybe not today. They were barely at the prologue of their story, after all.

For them to reach their full potential, it would take time.

Needless to say, she didn’t like that shit at all. 

Yes, she had patience, but she had to admit that it was slowly running out.

Which was definitively something she should work on. The shadows were alive, in this new world of hers. They were alive and waiting for her to make the smallest of mistakes to jump forward and devour her. She could not afford that. Not when all things were going more or less according to plan. Not when she was so close to finally taking the first step.

Soon, the Volturi would form, and the first hurdle would be over with.

Soon.

A million of thoughts ran through her head as she took in the scene in front of her.

“Do I,” she said and paused for dramatic effect. Curiosity curling on her gut, she tilted her head and raised a brow. “Do I want to know?”

The answer was a resounding yes, but she was on a mission and she couldn’t afford to stop to listen to the story behind Aro’s impressive pout.  Which was a shame, since the story seemed to be a good one, if Didyme’s smile was anything to go by. The woman in question was reclining against one of the cabin’s wall’s looking otherworldly- as a vampire ought to do, not that the knowledge of the origin of her looks did anything to stop Oriana from getting slightly starstruck- and smiling like the cat that got the canary. Stomping down her curiosity, she shook her head.

“Never mind,” she said, barely trying to hide her disappointment. “I will ask later. We have other matters to discuss, at the moment.”

“Do tell,” prompted Didyme, tone smug and satisfied as she eyed her brother.

Aro rolled his eyes and Oriana suppressed a smile at the sibling’s antics.

“Well, first of all, as much as I want to get to the point, I have to ask,” she said, because okay, maybe she could afford to get a little off-track as long as she had a good reason for it. “Why are we in Aro’s cabin? It’s neither the most desirable nor the best guarded location.”

She would have assumed that the three of them would have wanted to split from the scene of the massacre as quick as possible, not stay close by. She would also have assumed that they would realize how dangerous was to stay static for too long, but perhaps the weight of the situation hadn’t dawned on them yet.

Yes, the location was very poignant and all, but also a considerably bad strategic decision.

Gods, they really needed an experienced general to join the cause. And she was referring to someone who actually had an idea of what they were doing. As in Caius, specifically. Not that she could tell them that, and gods wasn’t that frustrating as fuck?

She needed a drink.

“You seem to have strong opinions about this cabin,” Aro said. “That is new.”

Biting back the sarcastic No shit, Sherlock rising from deep within her, she shrugged.

“More so that I have strong opinion against using a hut that is hardly defendable as a center of planning a revolution against an established coven, but hey! That is just my opinion,” she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice with the same viscosity of honey.

“That is a very good point,” Aro conceded. “However, we are short of options.”

“That you are, however,” she said. “As vampires you don’t necessarily need shelter. Being on the move would make it so you are more difficult to track, and it would be easier for you to set an ambush…” She stopped and glanced around, eyes stopping deliberately on each of the three vampires. “Although, I wouldn’t recommend to do so for a while, for the odds would be against you.”

“Then we build an army,” Didyme said, as if building an army was an easy task.

Oriana blinked. Goodie. She really needed to stop underestimating her allies, didn’t she?

“Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Didyme said. “If we are to avenge our family, we need to burn the Romanians to the ground, and as it is, we cannot do so without an army.”

Making a mental note about Didyme’s strong drive for revenge, Oriana sent a glance to the other members of their coven, trying to gauge their reaction.

“Didyme is right,” Marcus said, tone serious and expression drawn. “We are too few in number to undertake such a large-scale quest, so what else to do but to recruit allies?”

Well, apparently, she didn’t even have to worry about planning a way to convince the trio in front of her to make an army. Who would have thought that the vampires that in another world would create an empire would be so keen?

Yeah. She probably should have seen that coming.

“I agree with my sister. Furthermore, we have an ample selection pool. We can either recruit already turned individuals or turn humans that may help our cause.”

She winced.

“I must ask for caution, at least when it comes to turning people,” she said. “If possible, I would like for you to give those you turn the chance to deny you. By that, I do mean that I would ask you to tell the individual of our plans before turning them.”

“And if they don’t want to join us?” Aro asked, eyebrow quirked. “We cannot have third parties running around revealing our secrets.”

“Of course, we can’t, but if they don’t want to join us, well,” she said, tone level and self-assured. “A human is much easier to kill than a newly turned vampire. Am I wrong?”

That got a reaction from the three. A nod from Aro, surprise from Didyme and a hiss from Marcus.

“Oriana,” he said, reproach evident on his tone.

“This is a war, Marcus,” she said, grimacing. “I may not like it, but I am well aware of what must be done if we want to win. And don’t get me wrong, this is not a simple struggle for power. We need to eliminate the Romanians or the continent will be destroyed.”

“Truly?” Didyme straightened, eyes intent and tone full of doubt. “How are you so sure?”

“I have been in contact with a mated pair with much more experience than any of us,” she admitted softly and for good measure she threw a careless shrug as if to say that her interactions with Caius and Athenodora were no big deal. Which, of course, was a big fat lie. “A while back, they explained to me that the Romanians are not the only ruling coven in the world, simply the most destructive. They said that if they are not stopped, the other covens will burn the continent down in order to stop the spread of the Children of the Moon. Needless to say, they will leave no survivors.”

Aro hummed.

“I suppose that it is logical,” he said. “It is likely that the other covens do not have the resources to rule this continent, and if so, it is much easier to destroy it to avoid the spread of the plague that are this Children than to leave it be.”

“So we are raising an army on borrowed time,” Didyme said, a tired sigh leaving her lips. “We better start quickly.”

“Which brings me back to my previous point,” Oriana said. “I would like for our recruits to be willing. Having resentment festering on our theoretical army wouldn’t be beneficial to anyone.”

 “I suppose so. I also would like to focus on recruiting other gifted individuals, such as Marcus and I,” Aro said, voice soft as he explained his reasoning. “As you have mentioned, there are those individuals who have more offensive gifts and I do believe they would be perfect for our goal.”

While she had to admit that she had a tendency to underestimate her allies when she really shouldn’t, it didn’t mean that Oriana was not well aware of their true character. She may have momentarily forgotten the sharp minds hiding beneath the beauty of the three vampires in front of her, but she had not forgotten Aro’s infamous greed. How could she? It was extremely useful, even if it did need to be curved every once in a while. Yes, it was clear that gifted individuals were needed to win, but it was also clear that they shouldn’t rely solely on them. Overreliance breed weakness, after all. And it wasn’t like any of them knew whether vampiric gifts’ affected Children of the Moon.

“I will admit that I do see other offensively gifted vampires as necessary, but do I have to remind you that we are trying to build an army?” She said. “We need trained soldiers, trained ungifted soldiers.”

“Why do you think so?” Aro asked. “I agree that trained soldiers are needed, but why ungifted?”

“To avoid overreliance,” she said. “We need to consider all the possibilities. What if the Children of the Moon are immune to gifts? What if the Romanians have a shield? Or, gods-forbid, a vampire whose gift is to neutralize others’ gifts? Additionally, no matter the training our future soldiers will be subjected to, those who are gifted are going to use their gifts as a crutch.”

“I suppose you are right,” Aro admitted. “We would need a full roster in order to make up for possible weak spots. We would also have to create training plans around gifts, for they can also be used as trump cards.”

“Do you include yourself on those plans?” She asked dryly. “Because I think you really should. It would be unbecoming for the leader of a small revolution not to fight with his own army.”

To be fair, she never once had doubted Aro’s presence on the battlefield, but she had to make sure.  And well, spite was a powerful motivator. After all, she needed them to fight. She refused to let them sit back and onionize on their thrones while they sent their guards to battle. That kind of behavior would only encourage disloyalty. She was sure Aro knew that, but it was her duty to make sure he knew of his duties as a leader. Even if mentioning them insulted his sensibilities. Which it had, if his raised brow and challenging glare were anything to go by.

“That is a sound idea,” Marcus said. “However, we are missing a key piece to your planning. None of us currently know how to fight, and our instincts can only go so far when fighting opponents as well established as the Romanians.”

She ran a hand through her hair and sighed.

“I am working on it. I have been trying to convince the mate pair that I mentioned to join us. They would be an advantageous addition, with their experience, their skill and their desire to overthrow the Romanians, however they wanted to hear our plans before even considering joining.”

“And you trust them?” Didyme asked, eyes keen.

“I trust them enough, which is saying something. More than anything, I trust their abilities.”

“Well, then. I suppose we must discuss our plans and add more detail then,” Didyme said as she clapped her hands. “If my brother’s little spectre believes they would be beneficial allies, then we probably should make good first impressions.”

Her shout of indignation at the nickname went ignored as the trio put their scheming pants on, figuratively of course.

“The sooner we have their support, the sooner we will build our army,” Marcus said.

“Not quite,” said Aro. “Raising armies have always taken time and money, I must only assume that an army such as ours will also take both, even if we don’t require food for sustenance.”

“Yeah, it probably will,” Marcus agreed. “Meanwhile, we can gather information on the Romanians in order to learn where exactly we must strike.”

At this, Didyme tilted her head and threw Oriana a speculative glance.

“Pardon me for asking, but you can choose to whom you appear and you can decide where to appear, correct?”

“Yes, why?”

“A thought just occurred to me,” Didyme said slowly, as if her thoughts were slowly fitting into place. “With such an ability, wouldn’t you be an ideal spy?”

“Huh, now that you mention it, you might be right about that.”

“Oh, by the way, before I leave. Why was Aro pouting when I got here?”

“Funny story that. You must know by now that my brother is a very sore loser, correct?”

“Yes?”

“Well, what happened was this…”

She was beginning to feel like a two-bit messenger, with all the jumping around from location to location in order to deliver terms. Still, Oriana had to admit that there was plenty to enjoy from her somewhat dull task. The view, for one, was breathtaking more often than not.

Gazing at the wide expanse of mountain at her feet, she felt herself relax at the view. Taking a deep breath, she allowed herself a minute to imagine she could smell the crisp mountain air before turning and searching for Caius or Athenodora, whoever was closer.

She didn’t have to look far.

“What have you for us?” Caius asked.

“My sunshine personality,” she said, not hesitating for a second. “Also, more concrete plans and an offer, if you wish to hear it.”

“I do not know whether the quickness of your response is concerning or not,” Caius said.

“Time runs differently for each of us,” she reminded him. “Perhaps it was a much longer time for me.”

A soft crunch behind made her turn around, only to be faced with Athenodora pulling herself up the fucking cliff. Christ.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Oriana caught a brief glimpse of Athenodora’s calculating expression before it was gone.

“I somehow doubt it,” Athenodora said, once she had fully pulled herself off the precipice behind her and brushed off the snow from her clothes. “You might look slightly different, but there is no evidence of growth that differentiates you from our last meeting. I would say it was a couple of days for you. At most.”

Oriana nodded to concede the point.

“You are right; however, I do promise that the plan has its merits.”

“Alright, let’s hear it.”

Taking a deep breath- not that it worked while she was asleep, but the thought it ‘s was counts, right? -, Oriana prepared to give one of the most important presentations she had ever done and would ever have to do.

The silence that hung between them was thick enough to be cut with a knife.

After she had laid out as much of the plan as she could without revealing their hand, Athenodora and Caius had stepped away to deliberate. When they had returned, they had simply stared at her, as if they were waiting for the final pieces of the puzzle to slot into place.

“What I do not understand is the following: why do you seem so adamant on having us join your coven? From what you have told us, the coven is full of powerful individuals,” Athenodora said, finally breaking the silence.

“Powerful? Perhaps. But also untrained, young and unexperienced,” she admitted, somewhat reluctant to expose all her friend’s weaknesses to possible enemies. After all, they hadn’t exactly agreed to join, yet.

“Not exactly the ideal traits for leadership,” Caius pointed out.

“You are not wrong, but they are working hard to make up for it. And anyways, this is where the offer comes in. Would you be interested in hearing it?”

Caius and Athenodora exchanged looks.

“Yes,” they said in unison.

“In exchange for your experience and your help, they offer an equal position on the coven and an equal portion of the spoils of war.”

“What would that entail?” Asked Caius.

“Well, for the equal position is something like this: As it is, it seems the coven itself is going to consist of the three vampires I previously mentioned and I, each with a vote and the freedom to speak for or against each decision made,” she said. “However, as we realize that we each have somewhat different areas of expertise, they have agreed that individually, each of us gets an extra vote on decisions that befall under that area of expertise. As such, Caius, if you agree your opinions would have more weight when discussing the army, its creation and the training it will need. Therefore you would be the highest-ranking military member of the coven and of the army it will build. Athenodora, as you seem to be fascinated on the hows and whys of nature, your vote will count more when dealing with research matters. It is a little less precise than Caius position since we are not quite sure what will you research and how the results will be used.” She paused. “These positions can change if you believe you are more fitted for another.” She added and shrugged. “However, the changes will have to be done with the full coven presence. I do not have the freedom to further discuss changes.”

That caused Caius to raise a brow in what she assumed was surprise. “You are being oddly courteous, is this a way for you to try and butter us up?”

Oriana sent Caius a look as dry as the desert.

“I can actually be polite,” she said, amusement dripping from her previously unemotional tone. “Also, we all know that wouldn’t work. And, contrary to popular belief, I do actually respect you enough not to try to manipulate you into agreeing.”

The fact that she was not above manipulating him on other settings went unmentioned, but it was likely that he understood the subtext. Caius knew her enough to know that. Or at least so she assumed.

“However,” she added after a second. “If you want me to trick you two into agreeing, well, I am all for-.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Athenodora cut her off.

Next to Athenodora, Caius sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Indeed. We have made our decision,” he said.

With bated breath, Oriana waited for the answer that might change destiny.

She waited.

And waited.

But it never came.

Eyeing the two vampires with mild annoyance, she sighed. “And your decision is?”

Dossier: A Brief History of the Ruling Covens

By the Record Keeper of the 龍 (Lóng) Coven.

Rulers of West Europe: The Volturi Coven

Pages 436 through 489

One must be reminded that in a world where mythos and reality intermingle, ‘myths’ cannot solely be fictitious. It is crucial to keep this in mind when it comes to retelling the founding and growth of the Volturi Coven, for their success can be partly attributed to the distraction now called the Trojan War.

Distracted as they were, first by the bloodshed brought forth by the war between Greece and Troy, which began on the year 1184 of the Common Era, and later by the rise of the Roman Empire and of Christianity, it took the Romanians centuries to notice the existence of the Volturi, and after that, even longer to realize the threat they represented.

By then, it was too late. The coven had become too powerful to be stopped.

The Coven was founded in the year 1204 before the Common Era by combined efforts of the Coven’s own Spettro Bianco and their current Head of the Inter-Coven Relations Branch. Aro, Didyme, Marcus and the Spettro Biando are recorded to be the first members of the Coven, but it was not long before General Caius and the genius biologist Athenodora joined them to form the first iteration of the Volturi Council. First hand accounts from the Spettro Bianco lead us to believe that at the beginning all was not well in the Coven. There are records and various first hand accounts of tensions and arguments between Coven members from the first few decades of cooperation, however it was not long before the Coven began to run as the well-oiled machine that functions today.

A popular rumor spread by the Spettro Bianco- considered less reliable simply because of the Spettro Bianco famous silver tongue and joking demeanor when not in official business- comments on the immediate magnetism between Aro, Caius and Athenodora. However, it must be noted that the Spettro Bianco seems to relish on ‘messing with’ Caius, so the veracity of this particular anecdote is at question.

However, as intriguing as the mystery surrounding what happened in the first meeting of the Coven is, it is not the most interesting portion of the Coven’s history.

On the contrary, the most fascinating part of the Volturi’s contentious history is that of how they managed to built one of the most effective armies seen in the vampire world….”

Chapter Text

When it came down to it, the best laid plans rarely survived first contact.

After all, fate had the delightful little habit of finding and exploiting the smallest of flaws on any given plan for its own amusement.

Yes, she was saying that Fate was one cruel bitch, plain and simple. It enjoyed turning up out of the blue and fucking things up. Needless to say, she did not like that shit at all.

It meant complications unaccounted for, unexplained errors. It was an interruption to all her plans. It was an annoyance, and yet, at the same time it was a chance to learn. An opportunity of growth, however grudgingly it was done. One such ‘opportunities’ came with the overpowering realization that when it came down to it, knowing about Twilight, knowing the future, was as much of a boon as it was a curse.

The information was helpful, sure, but it came with the cost of expectations. Expectations of what could be. Expectations of what it should be.

Over time these expectations became her own personal ghosts.

Her little specters.

While awake, her ghosts were few and far in between. Easy to ignore, easy to walk through. Awake, she was a nobody. Awake, she had little to do with vampires and the supernatural.

But that was when awake.

The ghosts came to her in her sleep. It was in her dreams where it became difficult to avoid the ghosts of her expectations. They were everywhere. She saw glimpses of them on each the not-yet-named Volturi. She saw the possibility of what they could be. The Aro described by Swan, the Caius feared by Masen, the Marcus pitied by both. The dead Didyme, the faceless and silent Athenodora.

The what if.

Needless to say, it was a pain in the ass.

She was attempting to mold history to her whim, and yet all she could see was what she would not allow to pass. She was hounded by the fear of the possibility of failure.

It was distracting, it was infuriating. Most of all, it was an obstacle. It was a flaw. And as much as she tried to ignore the ghosts, she knew she was being affected by their presence. She realized that that unconsciously they were coloring her view, blocking key information and clouding her judgement with preconceived notions.

After all, her ghosts had gotten in the way of her work more than once already.

Such as the time her little ghosts affected Caius and Athenodora first meeting with the coven.

Their first meeting was supposed to go smoothly.

She had expected the first meeting to go smoothly. Without much trouble. Why? Because of the books. The books that had shown the coven working as a well-oiled machine. The books that painted the coven as all but unshakeable.  

Well, the first meeting had not gone as planned.

Like at all.

To be completely fair, though, the mess wasn’t solely her fault. It wasn’t as if she could have planned for five rabid newborns to attack just as Caius and Athenodora were arriving to the meeting point. She wasn’t Alice.

That reminded her.

They needed an oracle.

Eyeing the destruction before her eyes, she sighed.

Wonderful.

“Well,” Caius said slowly as he worked on making the fire needed to burn the bodies strewn around the field. “you were not lying when you mentioned that they were untrained.”

“I tend to tell more truths than lies,” she said as she shrugged. “Shocking, I know. Still, from what I could see, they did not handle themselves that badly?”

Then again, it wasn’t like she could see much since the fight’s speed was vampire fast and her eyes couldn’t quite follow.

Woe her mortal form.

“I daresay we did a fine job if we do take into account that neither my sister nor I have had any training,” Aro said as he helped Athenodora pick up the dismembered body parts of the newborns.

And hadn’t that been an incredible surprise?

She had been worried about how Aro, Athenodora and Cauis would get along, but it seemed as if she had been worried about the wrong thing. Instead, she should have worried about how Didyme and Marcus reacted. Which was odd to say the least, since she both Marcus and Didyme were so-called social creatures. And yet. They were not acting as usual. There was no understanding in Marcus’ gaze, but wariness. No kindness in Didyme’s behavior, just a steely distrust.

Then again, she knew shit all about vampire biology, so the tension at hand could be a natural reaction to meeting another mated pair.

Still, it was odd to see Aro built rapport with the veteran fighters in less than a meeting. To see him slipping into their comfort zone as if he belonged there, just not quite. Really, it was almost the same magnetism that Marcus and Didyme had demonstrated previously.  Almost. But not quite. It was as if there was something missing. A piece of the puzzle lost in time. She had her suspicions as to what, or dare she say who, was missing but she would have to wait and see. If she remembered correctly Sulpicia only surfaced during the late Roman Empire, after all.

“You were not terrible,” Caius conceded almost begrudgingly. “But there is much to improve if you truly wish to take the Romanians on-.”

“Well, that is what you are here for, is it not?” Didyme said as she broke another tree trunk in two and proceeded to break it into smaller pieces for the pyre she and Marcus were building. “To train us.”

Caius sent her a chilling look.

“I do not like being interrupted,” he hissed. Next to Didyme, Marcus tensed and eyed Caius carefully. “However, it is as you said. We are here to ensure that you have a fighting chance and to make sure the army can take on the Romanians.”

Watching Marcus relax by a fraction, she suppressed the urge to sigh for what it seemed to be the hundredth time since the attack.

The whole situation was a mess. Or at least had the potential to be one.

So, vampires were intuitively wary of each other, who would have guessed? Not her, that was for sure. It was odd to witness, really. To see Marcus, slow to anger and quick to mediate, act more trigger happy than usual. To see Didyme, friendly and outgoing, act as if she was in the presence of, well, monsters (yes, she was aware of the irony). All in all, the situation was giving her a reason to believe that vampires were perhaps a tad territorial. That, or perhaps since Didyme’s and Marcus’ supposed mate bond was still fresh, their instincts were telling them to be paranoid in order to survive.

Survival of the fittest and all that jazz.

That could be it. It would be logical, as there had to be a biological imperative coded into the whole mated business. It was something to ponder over at a later time.

Either way, the pair was blatantly wary of Caius and Athenodora.

Aro, on the other hand, was not.

She had planned for the complete opposite scenario, but well. It was her fault for trying to prepare for the meeting at all.

“Alright,” she clapped her hands, trying to steer the clearing into a less confrontational mood. “So, obviously the three of them need training in order to learn how to fight both Children of the Moon and other vampires, but was there anything you approved of? Anything they did correctly?”

Caius watched the smoke coming off the fire he had started for a minute, deep in thought.

“I suppose,” he finally said and turned to Aro. “Aro, correct?” When he nodded, Caius continued. “You seem to have a decent ability to read your opponent, even if you are not reading their mind. That is something we can work on.”

“Oh, delightful,” Aro said, his lips tilting into a little proud smirk

That was kind of adorable, how Aro had all but preened at Caius observation. What a teacher’s pet.

She could relate.

Caius then turned towards the couple-that-wasn’t (yet) and examined them critically.

“You have some experience in combat, correct…?” He turned towards Marcus as he spoke and now it was Didyme’s turn to tense.

That was something to work on, she noted absently. Instincts were all nice and nifty until they led to overreactions.

“Marcus,” he introduced himself, sounding as if he would have rather not done that. Gods, he was acting like a jerk. “And that is correct. I was trained as a human, and I have picked a few tricks from other nomads I have met since then.”

Caius nodded.

“While your form is good, your style of fighting does not quite fit your frame. I know of a style that would allow for full use of your arm span. It should not take long for you to pick up, as you already have a good base to build upon.”

Marcus frowned thoughtfully before nodding.

“That would be helpful, thank you,” he said, tone clipped but polite.

Rude.

Caius ignored his tone and inclined his head as if to accept his thanks, choosing to focus on Didyme next, who still looked rather like a cat with her hackles raised.

“I assume that you have a gift that affects the mood of those around you?”

“We think so, yes,” she said slowly, as if each word was being pulled out of her by force.

“You should be able to use that as your advantage. It is rather distracting to suddenly feel joy in the middle of a battle and if you can learn how to single out specific individuals to target, you will be able to gain the precious seconds needed to get an upper hand on a fight.”

“How can I do so?”

“That is up to you to find out,” he said. “It is neither my job to train you on how to use your gift, nor do I desire to do so.”

Fuck. Caius people’s skills were definitively not helping the situation.

Clearing her throat pointedly before the rather tense situation devolved further, she turned to look at Marcus and Didyme and sighed. She had wanted to leave the tidbit she had noticed for later, but it seemed that she needed to give each side some time to cool off before things continued.

“When was the last time you two fed? Your eyes are almost black.”

That caught their attention, taking their focus away from Caius.

“Truly?” Didyme asked, astonished. “We fed two days ago! We should have been able to last three days more, at least!”

Throwing a leg into the pyre she had lit with Caius’ fire, Athenodora shook her head.

“Not really,” she said as she reached down and grabbed a dismembered hand in a macabre handshake of sorts. “Both of your gifts are passive, correct? They work at all times, right?”

“Yes,” said Marcus, reluctantly.

Didyme nodded, a petulant air surrounding her.

“Then you two will need to feed more often than Aro,” Athenodora said nodding at him, “and even more often than a regular vampire. I have observed it before. It seems as if gifted vampires drink more blood than ungifted vampires, and those with passive gifts require more blood than those whose gift is reactive. It is a rather curious phenomena that I would like to further explore, but that of right now I cannot explain.”

“How odd,” Aro said, head tilting in curiosity. “And a hypothesis that needs further testing. It seems like it would be important to know if we add gifted vampires to the ranks.” Even without being able to read minds, the path of Aro’s thoughts were taking. Such a limitation was a double-edged sword that they might be able to use to their advantage… If the Romanians had gifted vampires that is it. “However, before doing so, perhaps it is better if the three of us feed? I also seem to be affected by this condition, for I am feeling rather thirsty currently.” He admitted and then added. “Thankfully, while scouting for this location I found a town nearby. I believe it would be best if Didyme, Marcus and I go feed before continuing this conversation.”

“That seems like the best option,” Athenodora agreed. “We will remain here and finish burning the corpses. Neither Caius nor I will need to feed on the next few days as we did so the day before last.”

Aro nodded.

“We will make haste,” he assured and inclined his head as if to signal to Marcus and Didyme to follow him. “Shall we?”

Didyme sent Caius and Athenodora one last critical look before nodding.

“Let’s go.”

She waited a couple of minutes after the three had departed before turning to Athenodora and asking the question that had been plaguing her.

“Is it normal for vampires to be paranoid when meeting new people? If so, I need to make adjustments for our plans.”

Athenodora paused her task and hummed thoughtfully as she throwed the newborn’s head in her hand up and down as if it were a softball.

Oddly enough, while she did find the action to be creepy, she could not deny the faint amusement she felt at seeing the head bob up and down.

…

Shit, she needed therapy like yesterday.

“As far as I have seen, it is not. However, newly paired mates tend to be overprotective of their partners for the first few years after their meeting,” she said. “Which brings me to my question, do they know?”

It was her turn to hum thoughtfully.

“Outright? Not really. I don’t think they even know that vampires have mates. I did not tell Marcus and I do not know what Aro told his sister,” she admitted with a shrug. “However, I do believe that they suspect something. They are too keen not to.”

“Why haven’t you told them?” Caius asked, which prompted her to blink. Both because of the thread of accusation on his tone and because he had asked her a question. That was new. She was making progress!

“Truthfully? Because I don’t know enough about the phenomena to truly explain it. Also, I wanted to see how their relationship develops since I don’t know whether whatever the two of them have is a singularity or if the two of them have other possible mates out there.”

“Good point,” Athenodora said, as Oriana had expected. One thing that was constant was her scientific curiosity, after all. “And I have to admit that I, too, am rather curious of whether mated pairs have only one configuration or if there is a possibility of third parties changing the mates dynamic,” she began to say as her eyes glazed and she got the look on her eyes that she got when she began theorizing.

“That is a rather good reason,” Caius agreed with sigh. “However, I will explain the phenomena to the three of them when they return, as it is a gap in knowledge that we cannot allow to continue.”

“If you think it is best,” she agreed with a shrug. “However, don’t expect me to be part of that conversation. I don’t think I would be able to go through it with a straight face.”

And without the second hand embarrassment, but she wasn’t to tell Caius of that weakness of hers.

“Understood.”

Sex talk notwithstanding, the rest of the meeting went well. So well, in fact, that if she were even slightly more paranoid, she would have been wary. As it was, she wasn’t, so she got to enjoy herself while watching the coven interact with each other.

Make no mistake, they were still rough around the edges, but so was she. As much as she liked to preen and stalk about, she was making things up as they went. When it came to revolution, she was as much of a newbie as the five of them, and she knew that. Normally, she liked to pretend that she wasn’t, but the thought never left her mind. After all, forgetting her lack of experience would lead to mistakes that she could not afford to make.

Not if she wanted to protect the coven from any and all threats.

And she wanted.

Oh, how she wanted.

Knowingly or not, she had grown attached to the jerks and now there was no going back. Not if she wanted to keep them safe.

She did.

How sentimental of her.

“What of a trading company?”

Legs swinging in the air, she tilted her head, listening intently to Marcus’ suggestion. Her position, sitting in one of the oak’s lower branches, gave her the vantage point necessary to watch the coven’s reactions to her friend’s words.

It had taken a while, but the coven was slowly beginning to settle into the easy camaraderie that she had expected from the beginning. The roles she had mentally assigned to each member had fallen flat when compared to reality, but she didn’t mind. Couldn’t mind. Not when the reality went above and beyond expectations.

Slowly, the coven was learning to work as a single organism. Thoughts that had once been shared with reluctance, now flowed freely and without reproach. Discussions that at first had resulted in arguments now became intellectual debates. Little by little, the ruling body of the Volturi was taking shape, and she liked what she saw.

“Whatever you mean?” Inquired Aro from his place, leaning against their current dwelling’s entrance. His eyes met hers and she nodded, understanding what he wanted to do. They had been discussing possible means of acquiring information, when Marcus had made his thoughts known.

That by itself wasn’t odd. From the moment he had ascertained that Caius and Athenodora were to be trusted, Marcus had begun to weigh in on most discussions. From offering advice to mediating, it had been apparent that he was more interested in the coven’s proceedings, he was involved. Meeting after meeting, he had offered ideas and addendums. Always there, always helpful.

Just not very talkative when it came to explaining his thought process, and while that by itself was not much of an issue, it still was somewhat concerning. Not to mention a pain in the ass. And she hadn’t been the first to be concerned Marcus’ subtle reluctance to share his thought process. It had been Aro of all people. He had been the one to approach her the one time they had become separated from the coven, and started the discussion. Aro had been concerned that there would be a loss of understanding due to Marcus’ reticence when it came to explaining his thought process. She had to agree with his worries. She had known Marcus since before he was turned, but the rest of the coven did not.  They needed to learn of his thought process in order to truly understand him.

So she and Aro had agreed that they needed to nudge Marcus into the right direction. Not necessarily into becoming more talkative, but so that the coven would not suffer from a misunderstanding.

“A trading company would give us an excuse for our appearance in towns and cities,” Marcus said softly.

Caius crossed his arms and hummed in agreement.

“It is true. The people will not question our arrival if we have that as our pretext.”

“Yes, but Marcus. Why a trading company? There are other covers we could use,” she pointed out, feet slowing from their swinging as she peered down at her friend.

Catching his irritated glance, she gave him the barest hints of a shrug. She understood that Marcus was not much of a talker when the situation turned serious, but it was key that he learned to communicate with the coven. And she knew that he knew that, the only thing stopping them being Marcus own habits. She watched as understanding colored his eyes and as he closed them with a sigh.

Gotcha.

“There are, but I believe actually starting a trading company would be incredibly beneficial for us for many reasons,” he said and opened his eyes again to fix Aro with a level gaze. “Humans tend to let their tongues loosen when gossiping with merchants, therefore granting us with the information we need. However, that is not the only reason I am suggesting a trading company as our cover. Mostly because I am not suggesting it as solely a cover.”

That caught Athenodora’s attention, and she stirred from where she was scribbling in some papyrus they had bought from an Egyptian merchant.

“Oh? Are you suggesting that we found an actual company?”

“Yes,” he said. “It would give us a source of revenue and a source of information. Furthermore, if it grows, we might be able to use it to contact other covens in other continents.”

“Gathering allies would be beneficial,” agreed Didyme. She set the flower crown she was making down, and looked to the other coven members. “If we create non-aggression treaties with the different covens, we might even deter them from acting until we are ready.”

“True, but how would we go about creating a trading company?” Athenodora wondered. “We don’t have the human connections necessary to set them up.”

“Not yet,” Marcus said. “However, that can be changed. We might be working in borrowed time, but that does not mean that we cannot create and cultivate those connections ourselves. Additionally, I do have connections from before the coven was formed.” He pointed out. “I did maintain good relationships with multiple mortals throughout my travels.”

Glancing down at him, she raised a brow.

“Do you have an idea of where to begin?”

“Yes. Remember that fishing village I visited a while back?”

“The one where we met little Hes? Yeah, but wasn’t that more than fifty years ago?”

He nodded.

“It was, but I have kept in touch with a few of the merchants I helped, and then with their children,” he admitted with a shrug. “Surely they would find the opportunity to be rewarding.”

She hummed as the pieces of a puzzle she didn’t realize she was building fell into place. While Marcus was friendly enough that he would keep in contact with friends he had made throughout his travels, this seemed more deliberate than that. Almost as if it had been planned from the beginning.

The realization hit her lightning.

He had.

Blinking slowly, she jumped down from the branch she was sitting on and floated down the ground.

“How long have you been casting a net for this particular scheme?”

Her eyes met Marcus’ and she watched as the corner of his lips turned up.

“From the beginning.”

“Huh,” she let out an incredulous sound. That determination was new. It was welcomed, but new to her nonetheless. It seemed that her little Marcus was all grown up, scheming and crafting plans of revolution and victory. She was so proud. A little confused as to why the change had taken place in the first place, but proud nonetheless.

“That is an interesting claim to make,” said Caius, leaning forward in interest and then asked the question that was in all their minds. “Why?”

It wasn’t as if she didn’t trust Marcus intentions, but she would be the first to admit that she had pegged him as a pacifist before all else. She expected Marcus to be calm, to chime in occasionally. To be the voice of reason. She expected things to be different, but perhaps that was the crux of the matter. She was expecting him to act similarly to the Marcus of the books, but the words written by Meyer no longer held the power, did they?

It seemed that her little ghosts truly were affecting her more than she allowed herself to see.

Mmhmm… Something to work on.

“Why, what?” Marcus asked, and her attention shifted back to the present.

“Why plan so far ahead? Why prepare? As far as I am aware, you did not plan on undermining the Romanians until Aro’s proclamation,” Caius said, eyes searching and curious.

That too had been unexpected. How easily he had opened up after the coven had been formed. The process had not been fast, but it had been easy. It had been surprising to witness it happening. To see Caius become more expressive, Athenodora more open. It lent credence to the theory of companionship that Aro was working on. That perhaps, contrary to popular belief, perhaps vampires were social creatures if not at the same level than humanity. It made sense, of a sort. After all, vampires were a byproduct of humanity and therefore, was it not logical that there were some vestiges of human instinct to be found in vampirism? He had brought it up when it had been obvious that there was a difference between her own experience with the coven and theirs. Fifteen years meant nothing when one had an eternity before them, but it was still a finite quantity of time. A quantity that had been shorter than the time she had spent getting to know Caius and Athenodora, but that had led to stronger bonds between the coven than she had anticipated. Of course, the theory had flaws, but the thought behind it seemed solid to her. After all, it did make sense for Caius and Athenodora to be wary of the little ‘spectre’ flitting about, but not so much of the coven that had sworn loyalty to their cause. It made sense that companionship would be harder to develop with an intangible being than with solid individuals.

“I did not overtly plan to undermine the Romanians until fifteen years ago,” Marcus agreed. “That does not mean I was not planning to undermine them. I simply realized that I lacked the strength of numbers and the experience. But thanks to Oriana, I was aware that there would be a point when I would not be so lacking. So I planted the seeds for the future where I could do what I desired.”

The silence that swept over them let her know that no, she wasn’t the only one that felt a little speechless at Marcus response.

“Okay, but where did the motivation come from? From the razed villages?” she asked, still trying to rearrange her worldview back into place. She had known that the villages had affected Marcus, but it seemed she hadn’t realized how much.

“Partly,” he admitted. “But not entirely. It was the million little things that amounted into my current drive to end the tyranny of the Romanians. They lack civility, lack restrain. They seem to relish in chaos and disorder and that simply does not agree with me. Not when the hand that dispenses destruction is supposed to be the hand ruling the region. Whoever allowed such destruction is simply not fit to rule and therefore, one way or another, I will stop them from creating an everlasting legacy.”

There was passion in Marcus’ speech. The passion of a man tired of seeing death and devastation. The fire of a man that wanted retribution. Retribution for the lives that had been so callously extinguished without any need.

Because that was it, wasn’t it?

The Romanians were spreading death simply to revel on it. They were not feeding from the corpses they left behind. There was no need of such destruction, and yet they did it anyway.

It seemed that she had found the line that Marcus would not be willing to cross… And perhaps it meant that she had to think of a new method of feeding for Volterra, for it seemed unlikely that this Marcus would approve of the Heidi-tourist-trap method. Which was kind of a… Relief actually. She was not that far gone to be unaffected by the idea of bringing innocent souls to their death.

“Alright, so the Romanians are not fit to rule,” she agreed. “What are your thoughts on who should rule after they are gone? Who is fit to rule?”

Marcus looked at her, and not for the first time she understood why there would be people willing to fight and die for his cause, for him.

“We will be.”

Sometimes, she wished that she hadn’t decided to dumb herself down in order not to attract the attention of what dwelt in the shadows. Sometimes she wished she had pulled a Spencer Reid and speed through elementary, middle and high school straight into college.

Sometimes…. Actually, more like all the fucking time.

She had regrets. Many of them. Especially when it was her decisions that led her to the weirdest of the situations.

“What.”

“Come on! It will be fun!” Bright eyes and warm smiles prompted her to close her eyes and count to ten before she said something childish ears should not hear.

“No.”

A cute whine.

“Please?”

She scrunched her eyes. If she couldn’t see the children, then the puppy eyes wouldn’t work. Right? Right?

“No way.”

“Pwetty please?”

Wrong.

She was going to scream.

Letting out a sigh, she opened her eyes and sent Lizzie a glare.

“Fine, I will go exploring. But if I get eaten it’s your fault and I am gonna haunt you so hard. Not Era, not Javi. You.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes.

“That is a risk I am willing to take.”

Gods, sometimes she hated twelve-year olds and their desire to explore random swamps. Like, that is how you met serial killers for fuck’s sake. She couldn’t wait until puberty hit her friends like a train and they suddenly became allergic to the outdoors.

Feeling another sigh coming, she rubbed her face and braced herself for a long long day.

Children, honestly.

The transition from sleeping to dreaming was an odd one. Mostly because unlike death, it was not quicker and easier than falling asleep. It was disconcerting, sudden and disorienting.

Especially when the first thing that assaulted her senses was the sound of a being in pure agony.

Eyes snapping open, Oriana glanced around and relaxed when she noted her surroundings. She was in the odd collection of caves they had found on the not-yet-named Mount Parnitha, one of their bases of operations, and since the screams were not being accompanied by the screeching sound of vampire limb against vampire limb it meant that there was no battle to be fought. The screams came from another source.

Their first recruit, perhaps?

Following the screams- and wasn’t that horror movie worthy? A little girl in her nightgown following agonizing screams, what was her life even at this point-, she soon found herself in a great cavern with stalagmites and stalactites that… weirdly fit with the general mood and the aesthetic that the coven was trying for. They really were all theatre kids on the inside, weren’t they?

Smiling fondly, she made her way towards the coven - noting that Didyme seemed to be out hunting as she couldn’t see her anywhere -, which seemed to be watching the source of the screams quite intently.

“Time?” she asked, breaking the tense atmosphere as she walked closer to the woman screaming and examined her with curiosity. She was aesthetically pleasant, in a modern sort of way. Tiny and delicate and beautiful even when going through immeasurable pain. With her eyes closed, it was impossible to find out her eye color, so Oriana moved to admiring her hair. It was a dark mahogany, but there were streaks of lighter brown-almost a golden color- streaking through it, implying that the stranger had spent enough time in the sun that it had given her natural highlights.

“Six years,” Marcus answered, sounding surprised. Lifting her gaze, she sent him an inquisitive look. “It’s been some time since you asked that.”

“Yes,” she agreed and took a step back from the not-yet vampire. Then it must mean that it was around 1183 BCE if her calculations were correct.  “It has also been a while since I witnessed something I wasn’t prepared for. I am feeling left out,” she said and pouted exaggeratedly, prompting Caius to roll his eyes and shift from where he was reclining against the cavern’s wall.

“I was also unprepared and yet you don’t see me acting as a child.”

Oriana laughed.

“Really? That is the wording you choose?” She gestured to herself. “Do I look like anything else than a child to you?”

Caius sent her a deadpan look.

“You may look like a child, but we both know that you are anything but one,” he said pointedly. “Which reminds me. Why have you not attempted to change your shape?”

She winced.

“I might? Have forgotten to try?”

He raised a brow.

“I have a lot on my mind, alright?!”

“I see,” he said in a tone that implied that he did not in fact see shit, so she stuck her tongue out at him prompting Caius to snort.

What a rude man.

Shaking her head, she let her eyes fall back down to the woman at her feet.

“My forgetfulness aside, what happened? Who is she?”

“Yes, brother, Marcus. Who is she?” Didyme echoed, brow raised as she entered the cavern as she wiped some blood from her face. “As far as I remember, we did not have planned in recruiting anyone just yet. Were we not waiting for the war with Troy to finish in order to recruit it’s heroes?”

She scrunched her nose in disgust. Recruiting the Greek heroes? Yuck. That would be too much ego and overcompensation for her liking.

“Yeah, let’s not do that,” she said, shaking her head. “We still do not know whether the gods are real or not, and accidentally angering them would be reckless to say the least.”

The silence that followed was concerning. Especially when Aro and Marcus actually shifted with at her words.

She sighed.

“What did you do.”

“More like, who did you turn,” said Didyme, once again reminding her that maybe, just maybe, she was not the only one with common sense in the coven. Gods bless Didyme, really.

Turning at the pair, Oriana just managed to catch their shared glance and braced herself for whatever they were going to say.

“Well,” Aro began slowly. “Marcus and I were scouting port cities when we heard of a follower of Aphrodite in Amathus that had an unnatural ability to fix or destroy relationships, and we both agreed that one such character could be useful. So we decided to take a quick detour-,”

Something was niggling about the way he was phrasing his description. Fix or destroy relationships? She frowned. There was something about that that was bothering, but what?

“Isn’t Amathus in Cyprus?” Interrupted Athenodora, suddenly jumping up from she was sitting and beginning to pace while gesturing wildly. “That is why you two took such a long time scouting? We were beginning to think that you had fallen prey of the Children! Did you not think of that? The risk you took was immeasurable.”

Surprised by outburst, she glanced at Caius questioningly.

He sighed.

“We were worried,” he admitted with a shrug. “The Children have been restless recently, even more so since the war began.”

She nodded. It made sense that the Children of the Moon were reacting to the threat of war, since at the end of the day they were still human. Kind of.

“Apologies,” Marcus said. “We did not mean to cause worry, but the rumors seemed to signal that there was some sort of danger circling the follower of Aphrodite and well, we cannot turn the dead, can we? And we truly did believe that it was beneficial for us to recruit Charmion.”

Well, that was a name she knew.

Her eyes snapped back to Marcus. Well, that was odd. Extremely so. A follower of Aphrodite, located in Amathus, named Charmion, circa 1190 BCE? She would have been oddly pleased at the coincidence, if she believed in coincidences. Instead, as she believed in Fate being a bitch, she was wary.

Who was this Charmion, that had made Fate pull the strings so that she could be turned? What was her role in the grand scheme of things?

“Alright,” she said, dragging the word out in hopes of getting things back into track. “So you went to Cyprus for Charmion because you believed you were running out of time. What was the supposed time crunch?”

“You must understand,” Aro began to say. “Ever since the beginning of the war, there has been an overall shift in public opinion in regards the three goddesses that supposedly fought over Eris’ golden apple.”

And just like that it dawned on her.

“And because the goddesses are beyond reach and because they still fear them, people have begun to target their priests and priestesses, haven’t they?”

How disgusting.

It did made sense, though, in a twisted sort of way. Fear brought anger and anger breed hate, from there, it was easy for people to take the last step and move towards ostracization or worse. Especially if there was a threat of war on the horizon. The people saw the gods as responsible for the fear they were about to endure, and yet they could not touch the heaves so they focused their gaze on a more accessible prey.

It was predictable, but that did not mean it wasn’t disgusting.

“Correct,” Aro said, “they have done so by targeting their reputations and therefore their livelihoods. Charmion was accused of seducing several nobles using Aphrodite’s wiles. Luckily, Marcus and I arrived before a sentence would be decided or carried out.”

She smirked.

“You swept in and swept her off her feet with a chance for freedom and immortality? Nice move, Don Juan.” She said with a laugh. Lamentably her joke was met with multiple blank stares.

“Don Juan?”

“It’s a-,” she shook her head. “Nevermind, forget I said anything.”

“I will endeavor to do so,” Caius promised, causing her to splutter in indignation. “I do have a question, however. You did explain to her what vampirism entailed and told her of our plans before biting her, right?”

“Yes, do not worry about that part. We made sure to follow the guidelines that we set in place for recruitment,” reassured Marcus.

“And how far along the transformation is she?” Didyme asked.

“It has been a day since the bite, there is still time until she turns,” Aro said.

“So, all we can do is wait…” Humming thoughtfully, Oriana turned to Caius. “I presume you would like for Charmion to be feed immediately after she turns, correct?”

“It would be preferable, yes. Why do you ask?”

“I want to know when I should return,” she admitted. “You reminded me that I need to see if I can change my dream-shape, so I am going to dream of that lake frozen lake we found a while back and see if it is possible. Be back in a bit!”

“No wait-,” he began to say, but by then she was already halfway gone into another dream.

So she waved…

… And found herself in another time, another dream.

A first glance assured her that there was no other living or non-living soul around, and a second that she was indeed in the location she desired. Nodding to herself, she moved towards the shore and leaned down to look at the clear ice.

Her reflection stared back.

Her but not really.

The girl that was returning her stare was more like second try, an attempt to recreate who she had once been. Similar enough but not the same. Never quite the same. Her eyes might be the same clear blue of her past life, her hair the same dark brown, but she wasn’t the same. She wouldn’t grow up to be the same. The shape of her nose, the slope of her lips, the little mole on the corner of her lip. All the little details that added up together created a world of differences.

Yes, she was never going to return to who she had been.

And perhaps, in another life she would have mourned for what could have been. Perhaps in another reality she would have found herself disgusted of what she became, of what she would become. Perhaps in another life, she had dreamed of Carlisle Cullen and perhaps that had made all the difference. But that was a maybe, a perhaps, another life.

This was not that life.

She would not mourn what wasn’t, when what could be was still ahead of her. Why cry for the what ifs when certainty was ahead? Oriana had no time to cry over spilled milk, to mourn a life that was lost and a life that never happened. Not now, and most likely, not for eternity.

It was fine by her.

What had happened, happened and now all she could do was look forward and thrive. For life wasn’t merely a test for survival, it was a test to see how far one could reach with the hand that they were dealt with.

Luckily for her, she had been given a winning hand, if she used it right. If she knew how to use it.

She would.

She did.

Oriana watched her reflection and willed it to change. To turn back time, turn back reality until what was left was the face of a dead woman. Her loss. Her past.

It was only fitting that the face that once belonged to her would become her mask.

She smirked at her reflection.

Yes, it was only fitting.

“Who are you?”

The sheer disbelief and in Caius voice stopped her in her tracks as she used all her willpower to stop herself from cackling like the discount supervillain in a C-list movie. The man sounded so outraged and scandalized.

It was hilarious.

Barely suppressing her snickering, she sent the discount anime boy a bright dimpled smile. Her trademarked oh-I-am-twenty-years-old-but-oh-so-adorable-and-naive™ smile. The same smile that she had used to dance around the condescending assholes that believed that because she was friendly- and frankly more than a little bit naïve- she was stupid.

Needless to say, it always ended terribly for them and a source of great entertainment for her.

Huh, so maybe she had always been just a little bit petty. Figures.

“What? You don’t like my makeover?” Pouting cutely-or so she hoped, it was really weird using her old face-, she fluttered her eyelashes at him while she framed her face cutely in order to act nauseatingly cute.

The sigh that escaped Caius was legendary and a sign that she was nailing it.

“There are times when I regret every decision that led me down this path,” Caius said, exasperation clear in his tone.

Athenodora looked up from the papyrus she was scribbling in and glanced up at the heavens, as if she were asking the gods for patience.

“No, you don’t,” Athenodora said, before dropping her coal stick, standing up and walking up to her. Oriana watched as Athenodora examined her from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. “Whose form have you taken? It suits you.”

She blinked, blushed and blinked again.

That was new.

“Thank you?” Her voice-also borrowed from a lifetime ago- pitched the last syllable, making it seem like a question and nothing like she had meant to do. So, it was the first time in forever since she had been complimented, sue her. Taking a deep breath, she took all the embarrassment that such a simple phrase had summoned and pushed it down until it was no longer a problem. “It’s my old form actually. You know, how I looked before I died for the first time.”

Once it was said and done, changing her appearance hadn’t been that hard. Nor had it taken as long as she had expected. Still, there was something to be said about revisiting memories she had hoped to keep locked in a box until the end of times. It wasn’t pleasant, but it was necessary.

“Time?”

“Two days,” Athenodora said. “As you have noticed, the screams have already stopped, so our newest recruit should be waking fairly soon.”

Oriana nodded and looked around, finally noticing that they were on one of the smaller caves branching off the central cavern. More specifically, the cave that had sort of become Caius and Athenodora’s bedroom.

So, she had interrupted their private time.

Again.

Awkward.

But, hey! At least this time they weren’t naked and or doing the vertical tango! Surely, that was an improvement.

Surely.

“We should be heading back to the cavern,” Caius agreed, pausing for an unneeded breath before continuing. “However, do not believe that I will not question you regarding your first life on a later date. You have evaded answering our questions regarding that for far too long.”

“Oh, yes!” Athenodora nodded enthusiastically as she moved to exit their ‘room’. “I have many questions regarding the possibility of rebirth and the effect that dying has on an individual’s psyche.”

She winced.

Talk? About the psychological effect that dying had on her? Of the trauma of being aware since childhood? Of dying?

Great. Wonderful. Magnificent, really. She totally wasn’t going to hate that conversation, at all. And she totally wasn’t going to continue avoiding that conversation as long as she could.

Like at all.

She was far from mentally prepared for that sort of serious conversation.

Running a trembling hand over her hair, she took in a silent shuddering breath. Ugh, she hated feelings. There were many reasons she had forced herself to read so many emotional intelligence books on her past life, and her complete and utter hate of vulnerability was the main one.

Taking another breath, she got a hold of herself and stomped whatever residual feeling she had to nothingness. Once that was done, she pasted a smirk on her face and walked out of the cave with her best strut-like walk.  

Fake it until you make it, right? Oriana knew very well how to fake normality. She was living an eternal masquerade and if she failed it meant her death, after all.

She would rather avoid that again, if she could. Way to boring for her taste.

Fears and insecurities masked behind her usual veneer of mischief; she took her time meandering towards Charmion’s body. Meanwhile, her drifting gaze found Aro reclining in a stalagmite near Charmion and her feet took her to his side. A nod and as well as a smirk were all he needed to clap his hands in delight and examine her intently.  

“Oh, so my theory was correct? You can change your shape? Wonderful,” he commented. “Now that is confirmed, we can start using you as a more active spy, as Didyme suggested.”

“I don’t know about that,” she admitted. “I would prefer for our numbers to be bigger before we-”

A growl interrupted her. Blinking, she let her gaze drift towards the sound.

It looked like Charmion had woken up.