Juliet Dreaming

Okay, it seemed like Charlie was serious, but I still couldn't believe it. This sort of thing just did not happen. And there was no way in Hell that I would ever go through with it. I don't even want to marry Edward. I love him and want forever with him (literally), but I'm not ready for marriage. Not with Edward, and certainly not with Jacob. And Charlie thinks I should be proud and grateful to him for doing this? Time to set him straight.

Maybe I came on a little strong there. After all, Charlie's right, I don't hate Jake, I just don't love him. Not in that way, and especially not enough to marry him. I just need to get that through to Charlie, because he doesn't seem to be getting it.

I trailed off, but Carlisle was silent for some time, apparently thinking. He was so long in thought that I grew desperate again. I knew that Charlie knew very well where I was likely to be, and the longer this took, the more likely it was that he would turn up here and drag me back. "Be not so long to speak," I begged. "I long to die!"

That brought Carlisle's attention back to me. "I'm sorry," he apologised. "I was mentally debating the pros and cons of changing you now. The reason we were waiting until after you graduated was to remain inconspicuous. However, that is a minor concern in light of this latest development. With Jacob being a descendant of Ephraim Black, there can be no doubt that this is an attempt to isolate you from the family. As soon as Edward reads my thoughts he'll know that you're not a willing participant in the marriage, and we won't be able to control him. It will mean war with the pack."

Noooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Bella was dreaming again. This used to be my favourite part of the night, listening to the things she would say in her sleep—it was the only clues that I had to glean what she was dreaming about. But more often than not lately she had been having nightmares. Bad dreams that were caused by the family and I leaving her; or of the woman with the rosary that we saw in Volterra, the woman who had been destined to become a vampire's lunch. When her nightly mutterings revealed that she was dreaming about either of those, I was invaribly filled with guilt, more so than I usually am. For both those nightmares are my fault, they are a direct result of my ill-conceived decision to leave her. If I had not left, she would not be dreaming about me leaving her alone in the woods. If I had not left, there would never have been a reason for her to go to Volterra, so she would never have encountered anyone deliberately brought in to be a vampire's meal. It killed me inside whenever she had one of those dreams.

But this dream seemed quite different. Although she was definitely agitated and restless, her restlessness was not quite as pronounced as with her usual nightmares. Also, her mutterings were indicative of a rather different dream than usual. For one thing, it was mostly Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, in fact. It was at times like this that I would give anything to be able to read her mind.

"...shall not make me there a joyful bride..."

Hmm. That line burned a bit. I had made no secret of the fact that I would love to marry Bella as soon as possible, right after graduation in fact. But the one time the subject was broached with Bella, she reacted badly. Admittedly, using marriage as a bargaining chip in our... discussion... over whether or not I would be the one changing her was probably not the best way to bring the subject up. But the fact remains that I want to marry Bella, preferably before she was changed. And based on her reaction, she would not have a bar of marriage.

"...proud I can never be of what I hate..."

Curious. What does Bella hate? Well, she hates being the centre of attention, or having anyone make a fuss over her. But that does not fit with the context of that statement; actually I could not think of anything that would fit the context of that line that Bella might hate. Unless she was having a very interesting dream...

I thought she would hate me after leaving her and lying to her the way I had. But though she believed that blackest blasphmy I uttered about not loving her, she never hated me for it. She's assured me time and again that she still loves me, Alice confirms that and so does Jasper. So, if not me, then what?

"...dim monument where Mike lies..."

I could not supress a low growl when I heard Newton's name. What could she possibly be dreaming about that would compel her to mention him?

"...past hope, past help, past cure..."

The despair in her voice when she uttered that made me draw her back into my arms to comfort her. Her restlessness had moved her away from me, and I had been reluctant to risk waking her by drawing her back when she did not appear to be in the throes of a bad dream. She needs her sleep. The despair of that uttered line made me risk waking her, even though she still did not appear to be having an actual nightmare. She stirred, but did not wake.

"...can't marry..."

There was that word again. Was it me that she could not marry? Why?

"...change me now!"

I rolled my eyes. That was typically Bella, she could not wait to be eternally damned like the rest of us. It was a fight to get her to concede to wait until after graduation.

"...I long to die!"

I shuddered. Technically, vampires are dead, so in her eagerness to become one of us that statement was perfectly true. But I also know that Bella does not consider us to be dead, so for her to say "I long to die" means that she is not referring to being changed, I can not imagine what would prompt her to wish for a more permenant death.

"...ill-divining soul... bottom of a tomb..."

I frowned. Those lines were often considered to be a moment of prophesy on Juliet's part, that she somehow knew that that was the last time that she would see Romeo alive—borne out by the fact that was exactly what happened. O God, I have an ill-divining soul. Methinks I see thee now thou art so low, As one dead in the bottom of a tomb. Either my eyesight fails, or thou lookest pale. Juliet's forboding prophesy... why was Bella repeating it?

I had no chance to contemplate that further because my attention was drawn to the fact that Bella's breathing at changed, quickened. Her somewhat disturbing dream was rapidly turning into a nightmare by the looks and sounds of it. She started tossing and turning, muttering "Edward... no... stop... no..." I shook her shoulder gently, quietly calling her name, hoping to rouse her from her dream, inwardly hoping, praying, that her nightmare was not about me.

She suddenly pulled away from me, sitting bolt upright. "No!" she screamed.

"Bella?" I quickly moved to sit next to her, rubbing soothing circles on her back. "It's all right, it was only a dream."

"Edward?"

Her tone was one of relief and disbelief—as if she was glad I was there but somehow thought I would not be. "I'm here, Bella. I'm not going anywhere."

She threw herself into my arms in a desperate embrace. Normally I had to restrain her when she became this enthusiastic, as my control could only go so far; but this time was different. It was not a romantic embrace, she was clinging onto me for dear life. "Edward..."

There was more she wanted to say, but I placed my finger to her lips to silence her. I could hear from Charlie's vague thoughts that Bella's scream had woken him up, and he was coming to investigate. "Charlie will be here in a moment. I'll just be in the closet until he leaves." She clung to me for an instant, obviously not wanting me to leave her even for a short moment. But Charlie was almost at her door, and I knew that he would not take too kindly to finding me in his daughter's bedroom. Especially after her scream—if he caught me there he would probably think I was molesting her.

"Shh, I'm not leaving you," I whispered in her ear before pulling myself from her arms and dashing to her closet with my natural speed. Even then, I had only just made it before Charlie knocked on her door.

"Yeah?" I had to give Bella credit—her acting skills had improved somewhat in the months that I had been gone. She sounded exactly as anyone would if they had just woken up.

Charlie opened the door and poked his head around. "You okay Bella?" he asked.

"What? Yeah, I just had a bad dream, I guess."

"Huh. I haven't heard you scream like that since Cullen came back."

I repressed a growl. Of course he hadn't. I had been waking her before she screamed previously. Tonight's dream just escalated quicker than usual, especially as it had not started out as a nightmare.

I could hear Bella laugh nervously, she knew full well why she had not been screaming. Luckily it did not appear that Charlie had noticed her nervousness. "I haven't been having nightmares lately, Dad," she replied. "I can't even remember what this one was about."

Liar, I thought, suppressing a groan. Bella's acting skills may have improved somewhat, but her ability to lie had not. Charlie either did not notice the obvious lie, however, or was too tired to pursue it—it was hard to tell from his vague thoughts. Bella said she was all right, that was fine with him; he just wanted to get back to sleep. He bade her goodnight, and closed the door behind him. I waited until he had gone back to bed before emerging from the closet and joining Bella on her bed. She immediately curled into me, resuming her desperate embrace.

I wrapped my arms around her again, stroking soothing circles on her back. "I'm here, love," I whispered into her hair. "I'm not leaving you."

Five minutes later she pulled back to look at me, her eyes darting back and forth, searching for I knew not what—though I doubted that she could see much in the dim moonlight that filtered through her window. But what she saw seemed to calm her, she took a deep breath and centred herself. "It was only a dream," she muttered. "It was only a dream."

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked, brushing strands of her hair back and cupping her face in the palm of my hand. "It sounded... interesting." That was one word for it.

She groaned, the heat of her blush warming my hand, the smell of the blood pooling in her cheeks making my throat burn fiercely. "What did I say?" she asked in resignation.

"Mostly a lot of Shakespeare," I replied. "Do you often dream in Shakespeare?"

"Shakespeare?" she asked. I noted that, despite the question, there was lack of real surprise in her tone.

"Romeo and Juliet, to be precise. 'Now by St Peter's church, and Peter too, He shall not make me there a joyful bride'." Bella grimaced, and tried to bury her face in my chest. I tilted her head back to look into her eyes. I wanted to look at her when I asked the question I had been dreading. "Was I the potential groom that you weren't joyful about marrying?" She seemed reluctant to answer. "Bella?"

"No, it was Jacob," she muttered, so low that if I was not a vampire I would not have heard her. I was not able to surpress the growl that emerged at the sound of the dog's name. Bella had not talked to him since the motorcycle incident, and I knew it weighed heavily on her; but I could not help but be glad. The wolves were dangerous, especially when they were young, but I could not convince Bella of that. She missed her friend, and I could not deny the spark of jealousy that thought engendered, even though it was through my actions that they had grown so close in the first place. And while I believed Bella when she assured me that I was the one she loved, and that she regarded the pup as only a friend; I knew that he did not feel the same way. I knew from his thoughts that he had visions of being with Bella properly before I returned on the scene, and that he would do anything to convince Bella to leave me, that he was better for her. And it burned that I believed that he would be better for her too.

Seeing my expression change with my growl, Bella decided to launch into a full description of her dream. How Charlie and Jacob's father, Billy Black, had banded together to arrange a marriage between Bella and Jacob to get her away from me; how in desperation, Bella turned to Carlisle to look for a way out of the marriage, begging him to turn her then and there; how she watched helplessly as I was torn apart by Jane dropped me with her power, and Felix and Demetri tore me to pieces and Jacob lit my funeral pyre. She shuddered when she told me that last part, and it was obvious what had made her scream.

During the narration of her dream, Bella had moved out of my one-armed embrace. I drew her back into the circle of my arms. "Like you said, it was only a dream," I softly reassured her. "And it's not as if it could ever come true. For one thing, you're eighteen; Charlie cannot force you to marry anyone, even if he and Billy banded together to concoct such a scheme."

"That's true," she admitted, looking mildly comforted.

"Secondly, as far as I know," — and there's been no evidence to the contrary — "Mike Newton is very much alive. I presume that's who you were talking about when you said 'on that dim monument where Mike lies'."

"It was."

"I'm not thrilled about that, by the way; you talking about Newton in your sleep."

She rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you're getting jealous over that. For one thing, the line about the 'dim monument' implies that he was dead, at least in the dream. For another, the original line in Romeo and Juliet is 'that dim monument where Tybalt lies. Tybalt was Juliet's cousin. No romantic feelings there. None."

I hid a smile, even though it was doubtful she would have seen it in the dark. Her frustration over my 'jealousy' as she called it was rather cute and endearing. I also suspected that it was in an effort to forget what was obviously the most haunting part of the dream. I needed to address it though, to reassure her.

"And most importantly," I continued, "No matter how absorbed I am by your presence, there is no way Jane, Demetri, or any of the Volturi could sneak up on me like that. I would hear their thoughts as they approached, and I would most certainly smell them before they could get to me."

I could tell that the last argument had not convinced her; and to tell the truth, there were holes in it. True, it would be extremely unlikely that any vampire would be able to sneak up on me as in Bella's nightmare; but that would not matter if Jane was there. Her 'gift' of being able to have one writing in excruciating pain with the power of her mind means that should she be present, even prior warning would not stop me or anyone else being incapacitated. Only Bella seemed immune to her power. I knew this from first hand experience, and so did Bella.

I was expecting an argument over that point from my love, but as usual, she surprised me. "As bad as it was watching you being ripped apart by Felix and Demetri, that wasn't the worst part," she said. "The worst was watching Jacob lighting your pyre. He looked so gleeful about it."

As much as I could not stand the thought of that dog holding a place in her affections, I hated the fact she was hurting more. "That would never happen, love," I reassured her.

"Yeah, right," she snorted. "I know he and the pack would have no problem killing you."

"I have no doubt of that," I responded, wanting to lie to spare her feelings, but knowing that was not what she needed. "I don't doubt that Jacob would have no compunction in destroying me. But he would never do it gleefully. He really cares about you, Bella; and there's no way he would take pleasure in something that would hurt you, even if it was necessary to do it." I was not as sure about that as I sounded, but I knew how I would feel in that situation, and I told her, "Just like I would take no delight in having to destroy him should the situation arise."

She shuddered, and pulled away from me. "Don't," she pleaded. "Don't fight him, don't risk the treaty."

"I have no intention of it," I assured her. "I was just pointing out that I would take no pleasure in something that would hurt you, and neither would he."

"I suppose you're right," she lay back down on the bed, tugging me down to lie with her. I did so, leaning on my elbow, placing my arm over her waist. "Can we talk about something else?"

"All right. You didn't answer my question before, by the way. Do you often dream in Shakespeare?"

She rolled her eyes. "How is that talking about something else?"

"I'm not talking about your dream. I'm curious as to whether you often dream in Shakespeare."

"Well, have you heard me speaking Shakespeare in my sleep before?"

"Well, I must admit that I have not," I conceded. "But it may be a new habit you've picked up recently."

"Well, it's not," she said in a huff. "In fact, I think tonight's dream was the first one. And I think that was brought on by Charlie confronting me about not talking to Jacob anymore. I mean, I can't exactly explain to him what's going on, and I'm sure he thinks it's somehow your fault."

"It is," I reminded her. "Just not in the way he thinks. But why Romeo and Juliet? Or don't you know?" I waited, but she seemed reluctant to answer. "Bella?" I prompted.

"While you were gone, I sort of compared us to Romeo and Juliet," she finally replied. "You know, the doomed star-crossed lovers. When I didn't think you were ever coming back, I began to think about moving on with Jacob, giving him what he wants. I called him my Paris. Charlie makes no secret of preferring Jacob as a boyfriend for me, so I guess that's what sparked my dream."

It was a good analogy, the logical part of my mind admitted. If Bella and I were Juliet and her Romeo in that scenario, then Paris was a good parallel for Jacob. But it rankled to hear Bella admit to considering moving on with the dog, even though I suspected that was the case. It's one thing to think something like that but it's another matter to have it confirmed out loud.

Bella must have sensed my changing mood, for she hurriedly went on. "Then I went cliff diving, and set off that whole chain of events... and once I saw you again I knew there could be no one else for me. Jacob may be Paris, but you are my Romeo."

"And you are my Juliet," I leaned down to press a light kiss to her lips. "My Juliet, my Rosalind, my Hero, my Viola, my Hermia, my Desdemona, my Cleopatra, my Katherine, my Cressida, my..."

"I get the picture," she interrupted, blushing a furious red.

I chuckled. "You know, I can think of much better lines from Romeo and Juliet to dream of."

"Such as?"

I bent my head to touch my forehead to hers. "Such as 'If I profane with my unworthiest hand This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this, My lips two blushing pilgrims ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss'." Her response was immediate. Clenching her hands in my hair she crashed her lips to mine with all the force she could muster, furiously kissing me.

I pulled back after moment, with a final kiss to the tip of her nose. " 'Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast. Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest'."

"I suppose that's your way of telling me it's time to go back to sleep," she grumbled.

"Well, we do have school in the morning, love."

She tried to protest that she was not tired, but a yawn belied her. Having no argument for that, she proceeded to close her eyes and settle down, aided, no doubt, by my humming her lullaby. Just as her breathing evened out and she fell asleep, she mumbled. "Love you, Edward."