In the Land of One Thousand Years Chapter One

Emmett fluttered open his new ruby red eyes, just in time to see the perfect blonde angel run from the room like she might be violently sick. His eyes searched other parts of the room, coming to rest on Edward, who was standing in the corner as still as a statue.

"Don't worry about Rosalie." Edward assured him, the voice echoing in Emmett's ears much too loudly for how quietly the words had been spoken. "I'm Edward Cullen. I must say, I'm impressed. You have a very…er…colorful vocabulary."

Emmett's eyes grew wide and flicked over to the door where Rose had escaped. "Was I actually saying all that out loud?"

Edward shook his head.

"Then how – "

"I can hear your thoughts." He was blunt, and unapologetic.

"Oh." Emmett paused for a second, trying to soak that in. Edward wasn't exactly grinning at his reaction, but Emmett thought he detected a certain smugness. He tried to think back through the fiery pain, still much too fresh, and remember what he had thought of these past few days. It didn't seem too bad.

"Nothing too embarrassing." Edward confirmed. He stepped forward.

Emmett tried to sit up, head still ringing. There seemed to be too much empty air. "I'm Emmett McCarty."

"We're going to have to change that." Edward's eyes lit up as he extended his hand. The two met with outstanding force and jollity.

"So…what are we?" Emmett, gesturing between Edward and himself. He wasn't exactly comfortable with this whole "telepathic communication" thing. He would much rather the words are out in the open than in the confines of his mind.

Edward deliberated, looking closely. "You can be the son of Esme's older sister, who died. How's that?"

Emmett shrugged.

"Wait. That would make you my nephew – would it not?" Edward shook his head.

"Who are you?"

"Now? I'm Esme's younger brother."

Emmett grinned. "I could get used to calling you uncle."

"We can be cousins. You will be the son of one of Esme's cousins. We can think of a name later." Edward smiled.

Suddenly, a shattering crash came from the next room over. Emmett stood up, and caught a glimpse of himself in the hanging mirror. He stopped, lifting a hand to his face and touching the corner of his eye.

Edward grew quiet. "The red will go away."

Emmett gulped. "How long?" His voice croaked.

"A year or so."

Emmett just nodded. "That won't seem long, will it?"

"It will go by quickly."

Whatever it was that Rosalie had shattered in her room was now being picked up, little bits clinking together.

Emmett looked at Edward, thoughts giving away the mental image he had a feeling would always be one of his favorites. Rosalie sitting next to him, her blonde waves gracing his heaving chest and her hand holding his.

"Go." Edward commanded. "She only thinks she wants to be alone."

--

Rosalie was cowering on her bed, an elaborate pillow sham on her lap. The broken pieces of a vase lay on the edge of her blankets, the flowers and water strewn all over the floor. She had been terribly, horribly angry at herself and thrown the first thing that looked at her funny against the wall. There was a dramatic crack in the wood paneling.

She knew that this man was hers. She had made the choice to save him. Now she had to deal with it.

But why? Why had she run at the bear the way she did, with arms raised high and screaming at the top of her lungs? She hadn't thought about if she liked the man she was saving or even if she wanted another man around the house. She had seen Vera's little boy in the dimples and dark, wild hair of the Scottish man, and acted impulsively. She cursed herself for being so childish.

He hadn't seemed so big when the bear was tossing him casually or when he lay helpless in her arms. It was only when she had seen him in the bed, legs hanging way over the bottom and arm muscles dark against the white sheets that she remembered to be afraid of men this big.

As if he had read her mind, he appeared in her doorway, blocking the light from the hall except for a ring around his head. He had to duck as to not hit the doorframe. She looked up at his shadow, her whole body tensing with fear of what was coming – both mentally and physically. He sat down, the whole bed tilting in his direction, so much like her world.

He fingered a piece of glass, noting how it would no longer slice his finger. "Was this expensive?"

He seemed to know just the thing to say. It was very much on her level of coy conversation.

She shook her head. "Not very."

"That's good." He wasn't the coy kind of person, and the silence quickly became more awkward than alluring.

Rosalie shifted on the bed, crossing and uncrossing her legs. "Well – " she began.

Emmett jumped in, the silence having been broken. "I just wanted to say thank you."

The overwhelming quiet that over took the room then was astounding. Finally, Rosalie's voice, "What?"

"Thank you."

She was still bewildered. "For what?"

"Saving me." He looked at her like it was obvious. "You know, from that bear?"

She nodded, eyes glistening with wonder that someone could be grateful for this existence. She had expected him to be mad.

Neither of them knew it yet, though they both would eventually, but this simple, good-mannered act was the best thing Emmett could have done for her.

--

Their backyard was a thing of beauty. Emmett had never seen anything like it. The oak of the bat felt good in his hands, and he welcomed the brush with humanity this activity offered.

Edward was pitching, a little bit of brotherly bonding. He had sworn that he would not be taking it easy on Emmett. Rosalie stood in the shadows, far away from home plate and the pitcher's mound. Emmett had no doubt that he could hit it that far, with this new excessive strength, but visually, the distance was daunting.

The ball flew out of Edward's hand, a rolling mass of red and white traveling at well over major league speeds. The bat swung forward, effortlessly. Upon making contact with the ball, the sound was so loud that Emmett had to resist the urge to drop and cover his ears. At least that explained why they had waited until the thunderstorm raged outside.

Emmett watched the ball instead of running. It arched and soared far beyond Rosalie's head and she sprinted off after it, arm outstretched as far as it would go. Still, the small white orb dropped a long ways away from her reach. Emmett grinned and took off for first base, blurring into the air. Rosalie stepped on second, petulantly pouting and crossing her arms. Emmett halted on first, hands up in a half-hearted excuse. Edward flashed him a smile, full of congratulations and challenge. As Carlisle stepped up to the plate, waving the same oak bat competitively behind his back with a smirk on his face, Emmett crouched and winked at Rosalie. She was playing farther back than before, but she simply rolled her eyes at his advances.

He had been here a little more than two weeks now, and she had yet to say more than a few words in his directions, yet alone explain her actions. Emmett didn't think it was a great start, but Edward consoled him, stating that Rose had quite a lot to sort out. Emmett didn't understand, exactly, but what was he going to do except wait for her to come around? It's not like he had anything better to do.

"Run!" Carlisle commanded a few steps from rounding first. Emmett took off like a shot, easily making it to third before Rosalie climbed out of the trees behind them.

Her hair was a mess of leaves and twigs, a tear appearing under her arm as she threw to Edward. She immediately fixed her ruffled appearance, brushing herself off. Emmett gaped; losing focus once again, and right then and there, fell in love with her. The grimace on her face as she tried to make herself beautiful again, failing to realize that she already was. Edward flitted his eyes to make contact with Emmett's and smiled a crooked, knowing smile. Finally, thought Edward, maybe they could all be happy.

Emmett continued his slow process of falling more and more in love with Rosalie in the following days. Each new encounter was a wonder to him, opening his newborn eyes to the beauty of this Rosalie, who had no idea the affect she was having on him. It wasn't a ravishing, maddening kind of fall. It was more of just finding the little things about her that made him smile.

She would crinkle her nose in distaste when reading something that wasn't to her personal favor. She liked to bite her nails, but only when she thought nobody was looking. She spent countless hours in front of the mirror, not only in the relentless beauty routines, but also just looking at herself. Emmett discovered that it was vanity, but not in the way that the rest of the family thought it was. She always found new things about herself instead of just admiring the things which were there. One day, she stood at the hallway mirror and wrinkled her forehead, again and again, trying to make the folds stay in her perfect granite skin. Emmett found her beautifully tragic.

--

Rosalie was disgusted with herself. She had chance after chance to just sit and talk with Emmett, this man who had so suddenly shifted her train of thought. It was quickly becoming an obsession, not just with thoughts of him and her, but with thoughts of just him and what he did. She wondered how this man was going to affect her life.

She was still partially scared of him. She told herself it was his size. The thought of someone, a man especially, that had this much of a physical upper hand on her, made her relive moments of painful struggle underneath Royce King, her back scraping on the cobblestones beneath her.

Really, it wasn't his size. There was so much about her that she kept bottled up behind these walls she was so good at creating. Emmett, as loving as he was, had this way of stating the truest things. She didn't want truth to be in the open. Her truth was only meant for her, and everyone else got a distorted version. Whatever she felt like telling them. She knew a lasting relationship couldn't be built on this, but Emmett would make her face what she ran from. And she had done so much running.

Walking upstairs to her room, she passed by Emmett's room and saw him lounging in a chair, casually reading a newspaper. She paused for just a moment and then continued on, guilt-ridden for missing another opportunity but relishing in the safety of her mind. Edward would never tell.

The rustling of thin paper made her walk faster. But she couldn't move fast enough. He was behind her on the stairs, following her into the room with entirely too much pink and settling himself on the window seat.

"What?" Her voice broke, ruining the charade of confidence.

"Why haven't we talked?" He got right to the point.

Rosalie fiddled with her fingers, and the ring that had been in the pocket of her apron, the one she still carried with her for god knows why, found its way on to her finger.

"We need to." He reminded her, not seeing the flash of gold.

She nodded.

"Well," He laughed suddenly, the sound filling the room and her chest. "At least we can agree on that."

Rosalie didn't smile. Emmett, not knowing what else to do, reached for her hair.

"You're beautiful, you know?"

She froze and batted him away. He would have had to be an idiot to not see the wedding band while it was waved in front of his face. He caught her hand.

"What's this?"

She didn't miss the devastation in his eyes.

"You're engaged?" He was hurt, and she hated the sound of his voice, so thundering and pitiful.

She cleared her throat. "No." She pulled her hand back and slipped the ring off. It had been a comfort, but Esme would be disappointed if Emmett told her. "Not anymore." Her hand felt empty. She clenched and unclenched her fingers, missing the weight. Why, she didn't know. It made her sick, the way she still wished for that life. That messed up, disgusting life.

"Oh." He looked at her, commanding her gaze, and she wished she could look away from the eyes that were still a dark and murderous crimson. She had done that to him. Then he blinked. "I don't understand."

"It was," She hurried to come up with another twisted version of the truth, "A long time ago. When I was still…human." The word came out wistfully, a long lost hope.

"You loved him?" Emmett's voice was gentle.

"I don't want to talk about this." She tore from the room, leaving only a sweet breeze and fluttering curtains behind her.

--

In the months since his addition to the Cullen family, Emmett had found his niche within the tortured and often philosophical walls of the Cullen home. He provided much needed comic relief, if only in a subtle way.

The two boys sat on the front porch, casually tossing a baseball higher than the roof before catching it with a satisfying slam back into their hands. Carlisle and Esme were somewhere far off, enjoying a sunset stroll through trees together. Rosalie had gone shopping for the last time before they moved, yet again.

Emmett threw the ball in Edward's direction. "What's up with Rose?"

"Today?"

"Every day." They were carefully avoiding each other's eyes, keeping the topic vague. Emmett wasn't sure how this was going to work – this conversation – but he had to know. Not knowing what made this girl the way she was ripped him apart inside.

"She's been through a lot." Edward gave his standard answer.

Emmett sighed. "You know something?" He caught the ball and turned to face Edward. "You say that every time and still I'm no closer to figuring out what you mean."

Edward laughed once, a scoff. "I shouldn't tell you."

"It's that bad?"

"It really is." Edward picked up the baseball and continued the rhythmic pattern, finding it comforting.

"Can you explain anything?"

"Not much." Edward was remaining irritatingly unresponsive.

"Anything?" Emmett repeated. "Anything at all?"

Edward thought pensively for a few long moments. "She was…brought up to be beautiful." He gulped. He didn't like the feeling of this, spilling secrets that weren't his. "She was engaged to a very wealthy man, who promised to give her anything she wanted." Edward turned to look at Emmett. "That wouldn't have been hard. All Rosalie wanted was children." He felt a sick twisting in his stomach, was he telling too much? He had never broken this particular boundary before, how far was going too far?

"She can't have children now." Emmett stated, resting his head in his hand.

"When that plan…well…didn't turn out the way she thought it would, Carlisle found her and changed her."

"Didn't work out like she thought it would?" Emmett repeated Edward's words back to him. "What do you mean?"

Edward sighed. That would most definitely be going too far. "I'm afraid you'll have to ask Rosalie to get that information."

"Great." Emmett cursed under his breath.

Edward, taking initiative one more time, added, "Don't give up trying. She'll be worth it in the end."

Emmett lifted his head and smiled. "I thought so." He stood, gave Edward a loving slap on the shoulder and went inside, letting the screen slam shut behind him. Edward just tossed the ball some more.

--