FAGE 10: Reborn (Fic Awesome Gift Exchange)

Title: Isle of Twilight

Written for: Alex Foulger/Thats-So-Alex (I hope you enjoy!)

Written By: Fyrebyrd

Rating: M

If you would like to see all the stories that are a part of this exchange visit the facebook group: Fanficaholics Anon: Where Obsession Never Sleeps, or add the C2 to get all the stories direct to your inbox.

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As always, Fran is my beta babe; she whips these chapters into shape, and then I tweak them. All mistakes are mine. 2browneyes and Sunshine are my prereaders for this one.

This is 6 long chapters and a short epi. The whole story posts today, every few hours. I'm going to call this a HISTORICAL FANTASY.

Prompt used: Titanic or Downton Abbey based period fic...incorporating forbidden love into that would be MAGIC.

Another time in a far away land.

Day 1

"Are you admiring the grandeur that awaits us, Isabella?" Jacob Black asks as he props beside me along the rail of the ship. "The Isle of Twilight isn't easily accessed, even by those of our station. We are lucky to have such an exclusive opportunity, and I have no doubt you will leave here a changed woman."

I stiffen my shoulders and allow the warm winds of the ocean to calm me before I speak. I have known Jacob my entire life, yet his constant insinuations that I am lucky to become his wife are starting to annoy me.

"That is what I am afraid of," I reply, scanning the horizon. "I care for you deeply, but I have dreams of my own. Becoming Mrs. Jacob Black is only going to derail those dreams."

"My beautiful Isabella," he says, his warm hand cupping my cheek and turning my face toward his. "I would never wish to see you as only an arm decoration. Your intelligence is one of the features I admire most."

"Shall I go to university as planned in the fall, then?" I ask, a spark of hope igniting inside me.

His tender expression fades, making his thoughts unreadable. "You know I cannot allow that," he says. "Our fathers will expect me to keep you in line."

"Keep me in line," I repeat, my hopes soaring over the railing and diving into the vast ocean beneath us. "So only you are allowed to prosper in life while I waste away keeping a household I do not even want?"

"Shh, darling," he soothes, his fingers tangling in my wind-blown curls. "I promise I will not commit you to this life. Once we are financially secure, we'll move, and you may follow your dreams. Please, do not give up on me yet. I love you so much."

I do love Jacob. We have known each other for our entire lives, and I have accepted this marriage, but to admit it aloud is to acknowledge that I have chosen him over my own personal goals.

And I have not.

I yearn for my dreams to come to fruition. I wish to make my own way in life, my own fortune and have a family in my own time. Not on a schedule set by two old men who know nothing of the modern woman.

The yacht's horn bellows, bringing me from my thoughts and back to the awareness of the goings on around us. Jacob is still present, but he is gazing toward a small, dark spot on the horizon, no longer interested in our conversation. Men scurry about, preparing the steam-powered ship for its eventual docking, while the other wealthy families accompanying us meander toward the bow wanting their first peek at such an exclusive place.

The tropical beauty of the island becomes larger with every passing second, yet all I am able to see before me are my dreams collapsing. My excitement over experiencing such an extravagant vacation has dwindled to heartache and despair as I remember the true reason we are here.

My marriage to Jacob Black.

With tears barely kept in check, I rush from the deck to the quarters I share with Rosalie and Mary Alice, Jacob's sisters and two of my dear friends, and throw myself onto one of the plush cots. I cannot decide which emotion is the strongest, anger or pain, as tears start to leak from my eyes.

The sound of the door creaking open overwhelms me, and I rush to sit up, yanking the obnoxious diamond from my finger and slinging it toward Jacob. How dare he enter without knocking, and how dare he make me feel this way. To have him, I will have to lose myself.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," a velvety voice says. "I didn't realize the room was occupied."

My eyes snap to the intruder, and my anger fades. A young man, not much older than myself, is standing in the doorway, his head bowed, hand extended. My ring rests on his palm. I'm struck by the juxtaposition between the two. His sun-tinged, work-roughened palm makes the diamond glitter in a way my skin never has.

Embarrassment floods me, but I'm too proud to show it, so I choose the expected reaction from a girl of my ilk. "How dare you enter my quarters without knocking!"

"I was informed that all guests were on the deck," he says, lifting his head full of wild, coppery hair for the first time. "I'm only here to collect the luggage, ma'am."

I suck in a breath as his eyes land on mine. They're a light shade of green, his tanned skin making them appear to glow even in the dim lighting of my cabin. I'm too stunned to offer a practiced snobbish response.

"We-well g-go ahead then," I utter like a bumbling fool, waving my hand toward the stack of suitcases against the wall. "Just take them." I finally find my backbone and deliver the words with the proper authority.

"Yes, ma'am, that's no problem at all," he says as I do everything in my power not to look his way. "But don't you want ya pretty bauble back?"

My eyes jump to his hand, his large, rugged hand, and guilt floods me. For the first time since this man entered the cabin, thoughts of Jacob begin to bombard me. My fiancé, the man I am set to marry in only seven days, yet once I remember that stunning fact, my anger returns in an explosive way.

"Do I have a choice?" I ask snidely, unshed tears causing my eyes to burn. "Heaven forbid me not follow the commands of the men who have decided my fate. I am only a possession. A pretty object for show."

"I'm sure they don't think of ya that way at all, ma'am," he says softly, stepping farther into the room and closing the door behind him. "Any man would be a fool for treatin' ya that way. You're a beauty for sure, don't get me wrong, but who wants to spend their life with someone they don't appreciate?"

I snort. "Where I'm from, the question is, who doesn't?"

His face falls as he squats beside the bed, lifting my hand. "If it's true, that's a real shame, but I can't imagine a woman like you acceptin' a ring like this from someone they don't love." He singles out the finger and slips the offensive piece of jewelry back into its rightful place.

My head drops as I stare at the ring, feeling nothing but scorn. "You give me too much credit."

He tentatively reaches up and cups my face, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. "Or maybe you aren't givin' yourself enough." Without another word, he stands and collects three of the suitcases from the stack.

I stay in the room, wondering if he'll return, until Jacob seeks me out. "Isabella, there you are, darling. Come, the ship has already docked."

Seeing the island up close renews my excitement about the trip. The lush greenery and large stretch of sandy beach brighten my mood considerably. The dock is long, but it provides me with an excellent opportunity to study the layout of the land as I walk arm in arm with my future husband.

Workers scurry about, moving luggage and offering refreshments while the captain, Riley, waits for everyone to gather. Once all ten families are grouped before him, he begins leading us down a rock-lined central pathway, pointing to other routes that veer away from our destination and explaining the adventures that await down each as we pass.

There is a path that leads to a pier that juts out over the ocean for fishing. Another that leads to freshwater falls with the perfect swimming spot. There's one that leads to the base of Mt. Eclipse for those willing to hike to see the breaking dawn, a trail for cycling through the lush greenery of the island. Then there's a nine-hole golf course that lies at the end of another, a tennis court can barely be seen down another, and on top of it all, we're heading toward the most exclusive inn any of us have ever seen.

Life is simple here, but it is also luxurious. A person can have their every whim fulfilled if they are only lucky enough to be invited. It took the power of a group of the wealthiest families from the mainland to secure this reservation. My family near the top, only bested by the wealth of Alexander Hale.

As the structure of the Volturi Inn begins to come into view, my eyes grow wide at the splendor. It's fashioned after a medieval castle, all stone and rock, and appears as if it is a part of Mt. Eclipse itself. The courtyard is adorned with flowering greenery, large towering trees with moss dripping from the limbs and intricate rock-lined pathways. Everywhere I look, there is something new to discover.

As we approach the entrance, I realize the structure itself is open and airy with billowing white chiffon hanging across wide arches that form the outer wall. Just inside them is a wide-open, rock-covered patio that stretches across the front and disappears around each corner.

Captain Riley pauses and turns back to address our stunned group. "Welcome to Volturi Inn where everything you imagine is just at your fingertips." He makes a grand gesture with his hands and brings them together for a crisp clap. Servers rush forward with trays of champagne. "A wedding is a very special occasion for the Isle of Twilight, and we'd like to kick off this journey with a toast to the lovely couple."

Jacob has no issue soaking up the attention as everyone turns to raise their glasses in our direction, but I want to melt into the perfectly patterned rock beneath my feet. "To my beautiful Isabella," he says, his smile blinding. "May we have a long and happy marriage with many children."

For one second, surrounded by this magical location, I almost felt a spark of excitement, yet one sentence from my beloved reminds me of my woes. I do everything I can to hold my perfunctory smile in place. "Thank you, Jacob, everyone. We so much appreciate you being here for this occasion." A round of perfectly polite applause echoes from my friends and family, and we each take a sip of the bubbly drink.

Riley claps again, and the servers return with their trays to collect our glasses. "Now that we have welcomed our guests of honor, I'll introduce your liaison. You've seen the luxuries the island affords, and we'd like you to take full advantage. The liaison will assure your activities coordinate successfully. Garrett, if you will."

Another man, who was standing to the side, now steps forward. "Hello, everyone. My name is Garrett, and I am at your beck and call. My room is on the lower floor of the inn, and I am available around the clock to assist you in planning any of your activities." He gives us a formal bow. "Now, if you're ready, a small tour and you'll be shown to your rooms."

The next while is spent getting a feel for all the communal spaces on the lower floor of the inn. There are several spots to gather for dining, chatting or relaxing, but my favorite overall has to be the large library tucked away in the far corner. There are more books than a single person could ever read.

Once we reach the top of the stairs, Garrett pauses and motions to a group of women awaiting our arrival. "These women will show the young ladies to their rooms, and they're always available should you need assistance. Consider them your maidens, if you will."

The three women, who vary in age, step forward with open smiles. "Good afternoon, ladies. It is our pleasure to be at your service. If you'll follow us, please."

Rosalie, Mary Alice, Jessica and Lauren, the McCarty twins, and Angela, pastor Webber's daughter who's only fourteen, all move toward the women. Our faces are bright and happy, pleasantly surprised with the unexpected freedom the inn offers.

When I attempt to take a step, Jacob pulls me tighter to his side. "I am not sure I like this, Isabella," he says quietly. "Young women are to be chaperoned in order to maintain their reputations."

I am so appalled at his tone that I snatch myself from his grasp but lean back in to whisper-shout my anger. "We are on an island surrounded on all sides by water. There are only friends and family present here. How dare you make such an insinuation!"

I am so angry that I do not stop as I pass the rest of the group. It is only when I have made significant progress away from my betrothed that I pause and wait for them to draw near.

"Isabella, what is it?" Rosalie asks, looping her arm with mine.

I huff out a breath, annoyed with myself for acting like a spoiled, rich girl. "Jacob was only showing concern, and I may have overreacted, I fear."

"Really, Isabella," Mary Alice says as she latches onto my other arm. "You should just be happy he cares. Did you see Jasper doing anything other than eyeing the fresh meat?" She motions with scorn to one of the women who is showing Angela to her room.

My anger resurfaces. "Care? I am leaving the thumb of one man only to be put under the thumb of another!" Everything around me falls silent, and I chance a look. Not only are Rosalie and Mary Alice appalled that I am speaking of their brother in this manner, but even the nice women seem concerned. My face heats as I drop my chin. "I apologize. Please, take me to my room."

Thankfully, the youngest of the three ladies takes pity on me, and she waves her hand for me to precede her. "Right this way, ma'am."

She opens a door at the far end of the hall and motions me inside, pointing to a small table and chairs a few feet from the entrance. "There's an afternoon snack awaiting you, ma'am."

"Thank you so much," I say absently as I scan my surroundings with interest.

A large four-poster bed sits centered on the far wall, its white curtains framing the luxurious midnight blue bedding. In the back corner, situated upon a pedestal, is a large oval bathing station surrounded by candles. There is a night table on one side of the bed and a chest at the foot, along with double armoires on the opposing wall. Plush Persian rugs adorn the floor, and thick, colorful tapestries hang upon the walls. An arched opening, draped with white linen, leads onto a stone balcony that has a small iron table with two chairs

Once I've thoroughly examined my space, I move to the table and remove the lid to a platter, suddenly famished. An artful display of bread, cheese and fruit delights my senses and I lift a piece of pineapple, humming as the flavor explodes my mouth.

Not long after, a knock sounds and the large wooden door creaks open, revealing young Angela's smiling face. "Good afternoon, Isabella. May I come in?"

"Of course," I reply, motioning for her to take the empty seat beside me and offering her a piece of fruit. "Have you settled in?"

"Yes. My room is absolutely beautiful," she replies, her eyes scanning my own luxurious surroundings.

"I am very happy to hear that," I reply, snagging a small slice of cheese. "This is a beautiful place, and I, for one, intend to enjoy every minute we are here."

"Are you excited about the wedding?" Angela asks, her eyes dreamy and unfocused. "I only hope my husband is as cute as Jacob."

I giggle at the girly notion, an image of my fiancé forming in my mind. He is an exceptionally handsome man, and I am lucky to have his love. "My excitement is growing with each passing moment," I reply, a fond smile on my face.

"I cannot wait to explore," she says excitedly. "Did you see the stables? We can ride horses on the beach!"

"Let's do that," I offer, her zest for life infectious. "You and I, after breakfast in the morning."

"Sounds amazing," she says, standing to hug me. "Oh, I almost forgot. Miss Renee asked that I inform you supper will be at seven, sharp."

My brewing excitement dims but only slightly. "Thank you, Angela, I would not dare miss it."

The time after her departure is spent pondering who I am and who I want to be. Do I even know who that is? The girl not controlled by her father or her husband-to-be? She wants to attend university and build her own career, but what does that really entail? Is her plan even viable? Or is she simply making up excuses because she is afraid?

Right then and there, I decide it is time to discover myself.

After finishing my snack, I take a short nap and when I wake, I request my bath be filled. The warm, rose-scented water helps to soothe my travel-weary muscles and center my mind for the evening to come. At just before seven, I leave my room to join my family for dinner.

"Isabella," Jacob exclaims, standing from his seat and striding across the room to meet me as soon as I enter. "Where have you been? We have been waiting for you."

I glance to the grandfather clock positioned on the far wall. "It is not even seven yet, Jacob. I am early."

"Yes, darling, but we mustn't keep our fathers waiting," he replies, speaking through his fake smile, though his eyes are pleading with me to let this pass.

As much as I would like to make a scene, it would do neither of us any good. This constant, tired argument is what I am hoping to move away from during my time on the island.

I return his smile with a perfectly polite one. "I apologize, fathers," I say as I take the seat Jacob has been so kind to pull from the large, wooden dining table. "I must've spent too long in the bath."

"Very well," my father says, taking a sip of what I'm sure is brandy. "See to it that you're more punctual from now on."

I bite my tongue to refrain from spewing a hateful comment, instead offering a nod. If I were to open my mouth right now, I might find myself grounded for the entirety of my stay.

It is not until I notice servers moving about, delivering the first course when I realize that I must have been the only holdup. As I scan each table, I am stunned to see every member of our party is present. My eyes fall to the white charger plate on the table before me, embarrassed at having gotten so angry over my own faux pas.

"Here you are, ma'am," a familiar voice says as a porcelain bowl moves into my vision. "We'll be starting this evening's meal with the duck soup. I hope you enjoy."

I suck in a breath at the sound of his voice, afraid to lift my eyes, but as the thought of him moving on with no response fills me, I lift quickly. "Thank you. It smells delicious."

He pauses and his lips twitch, but otherwise, he continues to place bowls of soup before everyone else at our table. Resisting the urge to stare, I lift my spoon, taking a dainty sip of the broth. The flavor explodes on my tongue, and I quickly scoop another bite, this time enjoying a piece of the tender duck.

Before I know it, my bowl is empty and Jacob is looking at me warily. "Are you all right, darling?"

I lick my lips as I meet his gaze. "Perfectly fine."

His eyes take in the motion, and he gulps. "Did"—he pauses to clear his throat—"did you not enjoy the snack in your room?"

I wipe my lips with my napkin and place it back on my lap. "I did. The soup was exceptional, though, and I look forward to the rest of the meal."

"Isabella," my mother interrupts. "You should take care not to overindulge. Your dress is made to fit to perfection, and we would not want any issues."

At that very moment, the server removes my empty bowl and places the main course before me, ignoring the conversation being had and offering me a sympathetic smile. "Here you are, ma'am. Tonight's main course is on the lighter side. Poached salmon served with roasted root vegetables and a citrus salad."

The vast array of candles lining the table cause his eyes to shimmer, and for the first time this evening, I notice he is dressed in black slacks, a white button-up with a smart black bowtie and his hair is oiled neatly into place. A drastic difference from the dingy ship worker I met earlier in the afternoon.

"Thank you," I say quietly, saddened that even my eating habits are being questioned. "It looks wonderful."

His tender gaze settles upon me for only a brief moment before he continues to serve the others seated at our table. Though the food is every bit as delicious as the soup, I am unable to take pleasure in it under the watchful eyes around me.

"Isabella," Jacob says, leaning over to speak with me quietly. "I have arranged for a fishing expedition in the morning. I know it is not something you enjoy, but our fathers were quite excited by the idea."

"I am sure," I say before I can stop myself. After a deep breath, I remember the promise I made to myself earlier in the day and meet his hopeful eyes. "I apologize, Jacob. I am sure you will have a grand time fishing, but I fear I will not be able to join you. I promised young Angela I would accompany her on a horseback ride just after breakfast."

Jacob opens his mouth to respond but pauses when the server reaches for my partially eaten plate. "Was there somethin' wrong with the dish, ma'am?"

"Not at all," I say with a definitive shake of my head. "I suppose the soup was more filling than I expected."

"I see." His glowing green eyes narrow slightly as he glances toward my mother and then back to me. "Well, you be sure to try this pineapple upside cake. The fruit is grown right here on the island," he says as he places a small plate of cake before me. "We've never had a complaint."

"I would not mind trying a piece of that myself," Jacob says, leaning over to caress my arm as he captures the young man's eye. "I believe my fiancée has already expressed she is full."

"I apologize, sir," the server says, only sparing me a glance as he removes Jacob's cleaned main course dish and replaces it with a large slice of cake. "I hope you enjoy."

I spend the rest of dinner quietly resenting everyone around me as they drone on and on about nothing and everything at the same time. No one tries to include me in the conversation, as Jacob speaks for the both of us, and at this point, it is for the best. My mood has only declined since leaving my room, and I am overly thankful when I am dismissed as the men move to have their nightcap.

"Isabella, wait up," Rosalie calls as I try to escape to my room. "Where are you rushing off to?"

I pause only to respond. "To my room."

"Whatever for?" she asks. "The night is still young, and our men are sure to be buzzed when they finally reappear." She wiggles her brows as she bumps my shoulder with her own. "You know what that means."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "All the more reason to escape now."

"Do not be such a prude, Isabella," she says in an admonishing tone. "If you do not fulfill his needs, another will."

"Will another also become his wife?" I ask sarcastically. "Jacob is too interested in pleasing our fathers to allow his carnal needs to override his good judgment."

She pouts. "Well, you're no fun."

"I apologize, Rosalie, but this has just been a long day. I am sure a good night's rest is all I am in need of."

"Very well." She sighs. "But tomorrow we must spend some time together."

I offer her a small smile. "Tomorrow."

Relieved that she let me go so easily, I scurry up the grand staircase, hastily moving toward the lady's wing of the inn. The hall is quiet, and it is only as I enter my private quarters when I begin to relax. With the door flush against my back, I release a satisfying sigh.

But as I scan the room, a domed silver platter with a small slip of paper peeking under the edge catches my attention. I approach slowly, lifting the note first.

Please enjoy is written in a beautiful flowing script.

I eye the dome suspiciously as I lay down the paper and reach to remove it. On the platter is a large slice of pineapple upside down cake.

See you in a bit :)