Chapter One

The Parting Glass

First of October 2005

London

Many things could be said of that evening's weather; the dreary overcast that had set in the late morning had only continued to darken as the day had passed, and at any moment the wet droplets of light rain would begin to fall on the city. Most of the passersby in the streets had their umbrellas out at the ready, raincoats fastened tightly over their heads as they prepared for the inevitable downpour.

Thoughts of foul language at the mood-damning climate fell upon the man's ears like the faint white noise of a distant television, and he barely took a moment's worth of time to pay them any mind. None of them were out of the ordinary, as the weather of this severity was a fairly common trait in most of his past residences. Rather than bring the man any enjoyment at the snarky, dry-humored quips of the British, as they usually would have, the thoughts only served to further darken his terrible mood.

The recent weeks had been nearly unbearable to withstand for him, and only out of sheer desperation and at the insistence from his family had he come to London. This, he knew, was his last resort for sanity.

If there was any chance at grasping it anymore. Deep down he was convinced he had left all remnants of it back in New York.

splat

The tiniest first droplet of water, landing on the center of his head, pulled him out of his thoughts for the time being.

He pulled his trench coat tighter, picking up his sluggish walk to a brisker pace, falling more seamlessly in line with the bustling crowds.

The pub he was expected at was only three blocks further, and as he drew closer the crowds grew smaller and smaller as he neared. For the smallest second, he worried he was led astray by wrong directions, but with one glance at the exterior of the bar, he felt nothing but a slight tug of humor at his heart.

Typical.

Of all the posh, lavish bars and taverns scattering the city, they had chosen the most run down and tattered one of them all to meet at. He truly wasn't surprised, he laughed to himself as he entered the pub, the door hinges creaking loudly as he pushed through the splintered wooden door.

The scent of the room assaulted his senses immediately; the smell of stout yeast and sweat seemed to cover the entire establishment, bringing him to think of what could only have been the remnants of a rough night before. And a bad one before that, too.

Through the horrid stench, he held back the need to cringe, focusing instead on the interior of the hell hole he somehow talked himself into entering.

The bar was small and rectangle in shape; light barely shown from the dusty emerald lamps scattered around the walls, giving the place a dark and eerie green glow like a taunting glass of murky absinthe.

Yes, he concluded, this was certainly the right place.

Few patrons littered the tables of the front room and even less scattered the bar lounge in the back from what was not obscured through the archway.

The individual in question, who had insisted he travel to London on a last moment's notice for this meeting, was the only person perched on one of the many metal barstools lining the mahogany bar in the back. Tending to a half-empty glass of gin and tonic.

He slid into the set beside them, nodding softly to the bartender that a drink was not necessary. With a shrug and look of distaste, the bartender left to take care of business in what could only be assumed to be the kitchens.

The two were now alone for the first time in over thirty-five years.

Neither spoke for a long moment until only an empty glass was left of the gin and tonic.

"I knew the nineties would ruin your hair," they said softly, just barely more than a whisper. But to both of them, that was as loud as necessary.

And just like that, the silence broke, the pair cracking up into soft laughter. It was the first time he had managed to feel honest humor in weeks.

He finally looked over to his long lost friend for the first time, a small smile on his face as he took in the woman beside him, finding her youthful face had not changed in the slightest over the decades. It never would, he knew, but the trueness of that fact always left him amazed. Just like he wouldn't age.

Yet their kind so different.

Wide eyes the color of evergreens met his amber ones, the same mirth and humor present in them as were no doubt in his own. The warmth of the liquor she had drunk had started to spread through her body, tinging her cheeks a soft rouge. He knew it would take far more than a small glass of the drink to make her feel even the slightest of its effects.

Their happy moment was short-lived, of course, as the reality of the meeting settled upon them both quickly. The lightness in his companion's eyes dimmed immediately, her wide smile softening into a closed lipped frown as she assessed him, looking for something. He never knew what it was that she looked for, what she could see that he couldn't, but whatever it was, she always found it.

"I can't believe it has been so long, Edward. And meeting only now, out of such circumstances."

The somber words bit into his skin like ice, and he had to look away in shame.

There was no good explanation as to why he had stayed away so long. Truly, he had thought that so much time wouldn't have passed between them without meeting to catch up. This was once the person he was closer to than anyone else; his mentor and friend. Why had he decided to stay away for so long? The correct answer seemed to escape him. It wasn't until a sealed envelope arrived on his doorstep three days earlier had he heard from her since 1970.

Not that it was her fault or doing. He had neglected his duty as a friend- as a student. He was to blame for the extended absence of contact.

Edward prepared himself for a verbal lashing he could only feel was deserved, though when none came he looked up once again.

When upset, her face was the most heartbreaking thing to behold. But he was not met with the watery eyes and deep-set frown he was expecting, rather, he was met with a calm and empathetic look. Her eyes soft and lips in a sympathetic smile.

"I am not angry with you. Truly, I am anything but. You know stretches of time mean so little to me now; I've seen so many days come and go. I only wish I had been able to intervene before things ended the way they did," she said finally, with a shake of her head. Long, manicured fingers gently traced the frosted rim of her cup mindlessly as she looked into it.

He shook his head at the claim, running a hand exasperatedly though his lightly dampened hair.

"There was nothing you could have done to prevent it, and I am a fool for not accepting it sooner. I knew every moment within my family's home was only a threat of death growing greater in possibility by the moment," he said finally, defeated.

Those words had run around his mind endlessly for the past three weeks, every moment of his consciousness was filled with his guilt and self-hatred at what had become of him. Of the precious life he had tried to protect, yet he knew that there truly was no way of keeping Bella safe when he himself was, in the end, the one thing he was trying to keep away.

This was the first time he had spoken such thoughts out loud. He trusted no one greater.

Her hand came to rest gently on his shoulder, and it was like that they sat and talked into the early hours of the morning. He told her everything. Why he left the girl he loved. How he had hoped that she would find a better life with a human just like her. He told her about how he wished fate hadn't been so cruel to deal him the cards it had.

She listened, understanding and supportive, through it all.

And by the end of their meeting, when all had been cleared from his chest, she finally spoke again.

"I saw you, last week. I saw you contemplating what to do. You were going to call me and ask for a favor. But you never did, you changed your mind" she said, "I could not let it go. I knew I had to help, as you have helped me in the past."

He watched her patiently, studying her face for any giveaway sign as to what she might be thinking. All he got was a stone, solid wall. It wasn't cold, no, quite the opposite- she trusted him in every way, but her abilities simply outmatched the strength of his own. There was no getting into her mind unless she wanted him to. He never could find a way in, even after eighty years of knowing one another. She always joked it was to keep him on his toes.

He could only anticipate her next words.

"You need not worry about your little Isabella anymore, Edward. There are things you must get right in your own family and life before you could even think of righting that wrong. She needs time. Your departure has left her fragile and vulnerable. But, she won't make it alone," she said, her voice ending on the softest note as she studied him seriously.

He looked at her, bewildered, then. The two statements completely contradicting one another. She only laughed, shaking her head at the look on his face, the confusion he felt. She rested her small, tanned hand over his much larger, pale one, the contrast in the warmth of their bodies was calming as she patted the back of his hand.

She smiled, answering the question that plagued his mind.

"Which is why I have decided that I will be moving to Forks to watch over her for you and your family. Until the time is right for you to return."

An unnecessary gasp of breath caught in his throat at her revelation, the scheme she had set. He contemplated the idea for a moment.

He wanted to argue, that it would never work. She couldn't possibly get close to the human girl.

But so often he forgot that it would, even better actually than his own family trying to blending in amongst the humans. After all, she looked the part.

She wiggled her brow mischievously at him, gloating in her genius. She gave him a look as if to ask what he thought. He raised his hands in mock surrender, knowing he didn't have much say regardless of what his objections might be.

He trusted her if she believed it would work, that she could help Bella... He knew without the slightest doubt that she would. After all, he didn't know where he would be without all the favors she had done for him.

He knew that she wouldn't give him more detail, even if he begged for it.

"Some things are better left unsaid. After all, where's the fun in life if there aren't a few surprises along the way?" she would always say.

She looked at him now, a grin growing larger on her flawless face by the second as she awaited his answer. Of course, she knew what he was thinking, but she was too polite to make it obvious, so she waited for his verbal answer.

"Fine, but she can't know-" he gestured between the two of them, lingering on her for a moment, eyes narrow in warning, "who you are, who you truly are. Or that you have any connection to me.

I exited her life because my presence was a danger to her, and believe me when I say, she's too nosey for her own good. She'll find out very easily who you are if you aren't careful. Promise me, this one thing. Please?" He asked, pleadingly.

She gave him a smile, one sincere and real, one she saved only for him, before nodding.

"I'll keep her safe, Edward. Even if it kills me."

A/N: yes, I know. I know. This was published many many months ago. Why am I republishing it now? Because I'm done with being a coward. I stare at the documents for this story every single time I go to my doc manager and get sad that I never continued it because I was afraid of venturing into waters unknown. Well, screw that. I don't know what lies ahead for this story, only that I know I have faith in my OC's potential, and I refuse to let it go to waste!