Woman of the Hour // volturi kings

18. everything

1996

"You all have to go?" Claire pouted adorably. They had just told her that they need to travel, for political reasons. They had yet to tell her that they were hunting down the Cullens, a secret that they probably should not be keeping from her.

"Unfortunately, tesoro," Marcus mumbled, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck as he sat beside her. They were snuggled on the couch together, Marcus on one side of her, an arm around her shoulders, and Aro on the other, his hand carding through her hair. Caius was sitting on the edge of the coffee table in front on her, holding one of her hands in his. Jane was somewhere in the room, keeping watch as their silent guardian.

"We have to, piccolo. We would love if you came with us," Caius continued, Claire perking up at him. "We have to visit Alaska, and I know you miss Layla and Ryan."

"I'd love to come with you," she squeezed her eyes together tightly, fighting tears that were welling up in her eyes. She felt like she had used and abandoned the Malloys. They had been nothing but wonderful to her, and she left at the first chance she saw. The weekly phone calls didn't feel like enough, and the photos she would send them didn't feel like she was trying hard enough.

Aro lent down and pressed a soft kiss to her head, elated that she wanted to join them. They hadn't told her where else they would be going, they wanted to surprise her.

"How long do you think we'll be? Because I have a few places back in American that I would like to visit," she questioned.

The brothers shared a look. They would have to alter a few plans, but they wouldn't say no to her.

"Of course, anywhere you want," Marcus whispered, kissing her cheek and enjoying the flush of pink that tinted her cheeks. They still flustered her sometimes, she wasn't used to the unashamed displays of affection.

﹌﹌﹌

"For you, sir," bowed a lower guardsman, handing an envelope to the golden-eyed vampire in front of him, the red wax seal familiar to him. A visit from a high Volturi member and a letter within the same week, he didn't have a good feeling about it. He looked back from the letter in his hands to where the guard was, only to find he had vanished.

"What does it say, Eleazar?" his mate, a beautiful brunette named Carmen, asked from behind him, concern lacing her voice.

He carefully removed the wax seal, opened the envelope and unfolded the letter. He read it quickly, then again, and one last time to decipher any hidden meaning.

"The Volturi," he started, "They're coming to visit. They said they're bringing someone very important."

"When? And who?" she questioned.

"A week, apparently. I don't know who, but I don't have a good feeling about this."

﹌﹌﹌

"I know how to pack a bag, Caius," Claire grumbled, crossing her arms across her chest. They were leaving in 2 days, and he had insisted on helping her pack, much to her dismay.

Helping was a stretch. In reality, he made her sit on the bed while he flittered around her room, packing what he deemed necessary in a blur. He was picking out things he had seen her wear before, like her favourite oversized shirts, the platform boots she always wore and those slim-fitting acid wash jeans he loved to see her in.

"I know, but I want to do this for you," he told her softly. She just sighed; she couldn't argue with him. He enjoyed doing things for her, it made him happy, so she let him. It was his love language.

"Fine, but please do not forget to pack my underwear."

He looked at her sharply, a playing gleam in his eyes.

"So, I get to pick them out?" he teased.

"You're an idiot," she deadpanned, but laughed at his mocking look of hurt. "Just shut up and keep packing, stupido."

She left the room, trusting him not to be completely clueless when picking out her outfits. Aro and Marcus were sitting at her small dining table, finalising some records and writing letters to other covens.

She wandered to them, gracefully placing herself on Aro's lap, his arm instinctively welcoming her and curling around her stomach. He was glad she was still willingly touching him, he was scared she would come to her senses and try to distance herself from him. She rested her head under his chin, snaking her arms around him and relaxing into him with a deep sigh.

"Anything bothering you, amore?" Aro asked her, his chest rumbling under her ear, sending a pleasant tingle through her.

"Just thinking," she whispered, her fingers tugging and fiddling with the fabric of his black dress-shirt. Aro had been trying to control his power, he didn't want to delve into her mind every time they brushed against each other. He had been quite successful; he could now touch her without being thrown into her memories and thoughts. He never cared about another person's privacy enough to even think about learning to control them.

"About what?" Marcus asked from across the table. He had looked up from the letter he was writing, his quill carefully set aside. Claire had laughed at them when she first saw them using the outdated writing implement, asking them why they didn't use fountain pens instead. They simply told her that they had referred them, years upon years of use made them a staple for the kings.

"I just... I'm not sure that Anchorage is home anymore," she answered, her voice small and unsure. She didn't voice it, but she felt more at home in the arms of her kings than she did in her own house after her parents died. The brothers were her home now.

"You know I never visited my parent's graves? What an awful child I am," her voice was tense and sad, the ache in her heart eating at her.

"Amore, you were not an awful child," Aro told her sternly, but still kind and understanding. "They loved you. I could see that. They would not love you less because you couldn't face their graves. Everyone deals with their grief in their own way."

He had turned her slightly, so he could look into her eyes, conveying his sincerity. Tears brimmed in her eyes and she worried her lip, trying to contain her emotions.

"They would be so proud of you. You did everything they wanted, they couldn't hope for a better daughter," he whispered, his hands coming up to cradle her face. "If it means so much to you, we will go with you to see them."

She couldn't help herself; the tears broke free and she sobbed quietly. Sometimes she thought she didn't deserve the brothers. They were so good to her. She threw her arms around Aro, crying into his shoulder. He held her, one hand clinging to the back of her neck and the other around her middle. 

"We'll be there for you, Claire," Caius spoke up from the doorway. He had finished packing for her and had come out to help his brothers with their paperwork when he heard their conversation. "You're our everything, piccolo. Whatever you need."