Author's Note: I came up with the idea for this one-shot after reading a number of Aro/Bella stories in which Bella is seduced by the ancient vampire during her time in Volterra. And, being me, I thought I'd put a twist on that particular part and shake things up. Obviously, I had to play with canon a little, so for the purposes of this story, the wives are the omnipotent trio of Volterra as opposed to their husbands. I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of Stephenie Meyer's work.

A Faint Reprise

It's the impossibility of womanhood that vexes me.

---Excerpt from "Boudiccea" by Faith and the Muse

September 13, 2005--Forks, WA

Edward's smile was slightly lopsided as he gestured at the large canvas and oil that nearly took up the entire rear wall of Carlisle's study. "The Volturi are a very old, very powerful family. The closest thing to royalty my world has."

Bella followed his gaze to the painting and studied it. The lower half of the canvas was chaotic, a crowd of revelers making merry against the backdrop of an Italian piazza. Above them reigned three figures on a white stone balcony.

Her mouth dropped open. "Edward, you didn't tell me they were women!"

He laughed, somewhat dryly. "Better to show, than tell. After all, how can one properly describe them." There was a hint of disgust in his voice that she could not reconcile with the nymph-like figures who observed the gathering with perfect serenity.

"They're beautiful," Bella breathed, pointing to a woman painted into the foreground. She had long red hair that matched her eye pigment and looked decidedly European, while her sisters were clearly Grecian. "She's kind of how I would imagine Calypso…you know, from Homer's Odyssey."

This time, Edward did not laugh. Instead, his face tightened in the subdued light of a nearby desk lamp. "That's a fitting comparison," he said dropping his hands into his pockets.. "Although I'm sure Sulpicia would rather be compared to Diana or Aphrodite. She's very vain."

There was silence between them for a moment and downstairs, Bella could hear Alice pattering around the house, no doubt preparing for her birthday celebration. Cringing inwardly, she concentrated on the painting to take her mind off the impending party.

"Honestly, I never would have guessed that your society was matriarchal," she remarked, adopting the same dry tone usually reserved for history teachers.

Edward shook his head in weary amusement. "You sound like a sociologist."

Her eyebrows darted upward. "And what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing." He shrugged. "But I wouldn't be so quick to label our society. The Volturi may have been founded by females, but they do have male consorts, you know. Husbands."

"Typical men," Bella muttered, "need to take some of the credit."

Edward was wise enough to stifle a smile.

Looking past the trio of women, Bella noticed a slight, retiring form in the shadows.

"Is…is that Carlisle?" she asked, leaning closer and squinting to better make out the indistinct figure's face.

He didn't answer her for a long minute.

"Well, is it?" she prompted him eagerly.

Edward seemed about to speak. His lips parted, framing the syllables to her name. "Yes, Bella, it is. He lived with them…for a few decades, at least."

"What were they like?"

"He doesn't really-"

"Come on, Edward." She tugged at his hand affectionately, but he was looking away, something akin to hesitance making him frown.

"I don't know. As I was going to say, Carlisle doesn't like to talk about them. He says they were refined…well, as refined as killers can be. They treated humans like cattle, but respected the arts. Sulpicia in particular liked music. She used to patronize Italian composers. I'm sure there's an opera or two that she commissioned. But she had other…interests, according to Carlisle."

"Like what?" Bella asked, suddenly aware that the tawny-haired vampire's painted eyes were on her.

Edward waved his hand. "The law, I suppose. The Volturi are what you would call enforcers. They make sure we keep the existence of our kind a secret from humans. And if something happens…if we are conspicuous." He trailed off with a half-shrug.

Suddenly, she understood. "Oh God," Bella muttered, rubbing her arms vigorously against the sudden chill that descended on the usually cozy room. "Don't even talk about that, Edward. I can't imagine anyone hurting you."

"I'll keep that in mind," he replied and gratefully, she accepted his waiting embrace.

March 20, 2006--Volterra, Italy

Bella's body was crushed against his, her every heartbeat sending agonizing waves of desire mingled with renewed terror. How could I have been so selfish? Edward thought dismally, how could I have led her into this trap?

Sulpicia surveyed him from a mere foot away, her Gallic features alight with perverse fascination. "Dear Edward," she said, flicking her wrist casually. "Has Carlisle not taught you patience? I told you not to provoke us. Now, you force my hand."

A growl rose in Edward's throat and he pressed Bella closer to him, painfully aware of just how fragile her body was. "There were no laws broken."

From behind him, he heard Alice emit a dry-sob, disguised to sound like a sigh. Edward, however, knew better. She was just as terrified as Bella and yet, she had raced to Italy, risking the inevitable wrath of the Volturi only to deliver him from maddened impulse.

And now, they might all die.

The guards stood close, reminding Edward, as they had in the city streets, that death was but inches away…mere inches.

New terror dawned on Edward, as he realized that he alone had condemned his beloved. The grate situated in the floor of the atrium revolted him and he almost retched, thinking of Bella's spilled blood swirling down it to the sewers.

No, this cannot happen.

Sulpicia had turned away from him, was now consulting with her like-minded sisters, Athenodora and Didyme. A decision, once reached, would be set in the stone.

Edward shut his eyes, feeling the heat of his pyre already.

"Bella," he whispered, inclining his head so that his breath stirred the top of her dark hair, "I love you."

She shifted in his arms and faced him, her smile watery. "Yeah, I know."

Sulpicia suddenly whirled about, her heady scent cloying in the chilly air of the atrium. "I wish to speak to Edward alone," she said.

And at once, Felix stepped forward to wrench him from Bella's embrace and into the shadows.

"I won't leave her!" he grated desperately.

Sulpicia smiled wryly. "On my honor, she will not be harmed."

Seated upon her throne, Didyme laughed.

Edward groaned out loud, finally giving voice to his mounting dread. Bella, however, was more composed.

"Just go with her," she whispered, reaching past Felix's bulky arms to squeeze his hand. "I'll be all right. Alice is with me."

"I'll take care of her, Edward," his sister remarked reassuringly. "Haven't I done a good job so far?"

Alice's attempt at humor fell flat, though he managed a smile for her.

"We shan't be long," Sulpicia said. She was already gliding out of the atrium and into a yawning corridor. "Come now, young Edward."

The first thing Edward noticed in Sulpicia's study was the grand piano. It was a magnificent piece; a sleek, enticing instrument that readily granted an air of refinery to the otherwise cold room.

Sulpicia acknowledged his interest with a nod and deftly lifted the lid, revealing rows of polished ivory interrupted only by tapering lengths of ebony.

"Do you play?" she asked.

"Yes, of course."

"Good. I should like to hear something." She skimmed her palm along the jade cushion of the bench and bade him sit. "Play me a piece Bella enjoys. And remember, this is your chance to impress me." Her expression bordered on coy.

Edward turned away so that she wouldn't see his frown, sitting with his back ramrod straight before the keys. Sulpicia was standing just behind him and he felt the fabric of her tasteful black slacks brush against his lower spine.

His fingers trembled.

Carlisle had told him little of his time in Volturi, so little that as a young vampire, Edward's curiosity grew to outright suspicion. What exactly was his mentor keeping from him? And more importantly, why?

A year or two after he had been changed, when his powers were raw and exciting, he took it upon himself to pry into Carlisle's mind. The memories he found there were unexpected…and unpleasant.

A feather-light touch upon his shoulder brought him back to painful reality. Sulpicia's hands framed his neck, her icy palms pressing down, down…

"Play," she commanded, her voice still infected with a slightly alien accent that he knew came from her days as a Roman colonist living in Gaul.

Edward hesitated. Her hands were still on his shoulders. But then he thought of Bella and somehow, his fingers began to move.

His first piece was by Beethoven, the short, staccato-influenced Sonata for Piano No. 31 in A-Flat Major.

Sulpicia said nothing when he had finished, so he continued with a less conventional song--Eleanor Rigby by the Beatles.

"Very pretty," she commented, once the last echo of the tinkling keys had died out. "But of course, your Bella is very pretty, isn't she?"

Edward took his hands off the keys and placed them in his lap, clenched. "Please," he said, "can we get on with this?"

" Ah, Romeo, Romeo," Sulpicia replied. She leaned forward so that her hair fell over his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Edward, but I despise the Shakespearian allegory. It's so very commonplace. Surely you can come up with something more clever."

"I can't apologize for my taste, Sulpicia." The muscles in Edward's jaw tensed. "Is that why you are keeping me here?"

She sniffed, playing the part of the weary autocrat. "A Capulet should not love a Montague. You know that. The law is clear. I'm surprised Carlisle let you stray so far." He heard her teeth click slightly as she spoke the name, clearly a physical manifestation of some hidden emotion she kept carefully locked away.

"It's not his fault," Edward said. He was desperate to defend his family, especially his benevolent patriarch who had already sacrificed so much for those he loved.

"You feel guilty," Sulpicia replied. Her hands moved up his shoulders, cupping his jaw with exquisite tenderness. "I could kill you all for this. Empires are built on death, after all. It is a hard lesson to learn, young Edward, and I would weep for your naivety."

With the edge of her thumbs, she stroked his cheeks, the rest of her fingers falling over his lips.

Edward sat perfectly still until, at length, she released him. And when she did, there was an undeniable ache in his loins. He shifted uncomfortably on the piano bench and tried to conceal his arousal.

Is this what Carlisle had endured under her calculated witchery? But he couldn't think of such things now…couldn't fasten his mind around a faint reprise of the past…

Sulpicia paced across the room.

"Are you frightened?" she asked, then quickly added, "ah, forgive me! I phrased my query poorly. Let me try again. Are you frightened for Bella or yourself?"

Edward cleared his throat, all too happy to focus on Bella once more.

"For both our sakes," he replied.

Sulpicia looked genuinely intrigued. She even arched a brow. "Then you are not entirely selfless. I would have expected Carlisle to teach you better."

Edward felt his eyes widen when she mentioned his father's name once more. Sulpicia, perfectly astute, noticed his expression.

"Let us talk about Carlisle," she said, striding back to the piano and letting her delicate hands dangle by her sides. "I do not deny that I had an ulterior motive in bringing you here, Edward. My sisters, however, wouldn't appreciate my interest in a…what does he call himself now?…a vegetarian?"

"There is nothing I can tell you about Carlisle," Edward said stonily, hoping beyond hope that Sulpicia would be quick to dismiss the topic.

She didn't.

"Ah, Carlisle." Her red eyes stared at a vague spot beyond him, as though she were examining the past and enjoying a particularly fond memory. "Beautiful Carlisle. Is he still so handsome? Oh, but how can I ask this? Of course he is. Ivory and gold."

Edward's revulsion grew with her every word. Despite his best efforts, unwanted thoughts crept into his mind. He imagined Sulpicia, her narrow legs encircling his waist, skillful hips teaching him the true music of the soul…the music of love.

Her hands touching him, caressing him…

His head thrown back in a scream…

A sudden shock jolted Edward's limbs. Sulpicia had perched herself on the piano bench next him and her fingers worked the keys. He didn't recognize the song she was playing and guessed it to be an original composition.

The musical phrases were long, ponderous. A valley of incredible depths surmounted by dizzying peaks.

As every note struck the air, Edward was reminded of what he had inadvertently gleaned from Carlisle so many years ago and in his disgust, gave the memories a voice.

"You wanted him for your concubine."

He was off the piano bench in a flash, his footsteps muted by the dark braided rug underfoot.

"What?" Both of Sulpicia's eyebrows were raised now and she ceased playing. "Is that what he told you? He can be so very righteous sometimes, so very-"

"Shamed," Edward spat out, "by you!"

"Shamed? By Juno, no! Never." She shook her head and permitted herself a rare laugh. "Allow me to tell you the truth, young Edward. Yes, I sought Carlisle for my paramour and he was, for a time. But no one could make a concubine of that man. And no one could force him. Our affair was entirely mutual."

"I don't believe you." Edward was now shaking with rage. With great difficulty, he forced his mind to Bella and tried to calm himself. He needed to get out of here alive, no matter what Sulpicia intended for them both.

She flicked her hand at him, the silver bracelets on her wrists jingling like tiny bells. "Your suggestion is hideous."

"And you're a monster."

"Dear Edward." Sulpicia offered him a derisive smile. "There are no monsters in this world. Only us. Only you and me." She rose and lightly touched his chest.

He ground his heels into the carpet, fighting his reaction to her caress.

Sulpicia released him. "Very well. We have distracted ourselves from the matter at hand. Back to business, as your crude human sweetheart would say."

There was a noticeable undertone to her voice that he didn't want to identify. Jealousy?

"May we have your leave to return to our home?" he dared to ask her.

And from somewhere in the pit of his stomach, he felt hope bloom.

Sulpicia flashed her teeth. "Not yet. And do not assume generosity on my part. You have disobeyed my sisters and I. Why should we be lenient?"

"No laws were broken."

"You have revealed yourself to a human. That is enough to condemn you all."

They were silent for a space. Edward watched her breast rise and fall rhythmically beneath her silken, dark blouse.

"Are you fond of romances?" she asked him after a moment had past.

Edward did not answer her.

"I am not," Sulpicia continued, quite ignoring him. "But there is one tale I do enjoy, perhaps you know it…The Lady or the Tiger."

"Yes," he replied stiffly. "Though only the ending is clear to me."

"A woman must choose," Sulpicia explained, "between her lover's life, albeit in the arms of another, or his death."

"And you want me to make such a choice now?" Edward prompted her. He was thoroughly sickened.

"No, I have no intention of killing anyone today," Sulpicia said. Lazily, she reached behind her and snapped the lid closed over the keys. "But I will give you a choice. I have not maintained my empire through leniency and there will be punishment where punishment is due. You may either stay here in Volterra with us or I shall turn Bella myself and keep her in your place. What shall it be, my dashing Romeo?"

He stared at her, hands unclenched, jaw locked. "It is no wonder Carlisle left you," he said, daring to provoke the beast. "You are a wretched woman."

"That, I'm afraid, is a matter of opinion. But I can tell you now, Carlisle did not always feel such resentment towards me. In fact, he thoroughly enjoyed his time here."

"You'll never have anyone to love you, not even your husband Aro," Edward snarled. For the first time, he noticed a flicker of true rage intrude upon Sulpicia's natural stoicism. But it was gone in a moment and afterwards, he was sure he had imagined it.

"Choose," she demanded, "now."

"I never will."

"Then I will toss her drained corpse upon your pyre. Do you not understand the true meaning of sacrifice? Choose."

The true meaning of sacrifice? Edward dropped his gaze. This has nothing to do with sacrifice, but rather, was born from sickness, revenge and no little heartbreak.

He hesitated.

I love you, Bella.

The words flowed forth from him before he could stop them. "I will stay," Edward panted. "I will stay if you let Bella go."

Sulpicia raised her eyes to him and offered him a brilliant smile. "Bravo," she said, clapping her hands. "Bravo."

September 13, 2005--Forks, WA

Carlisle met Edward and Bella on their way out of his study, his hands folded genteelly behind his back.

"I can delay Alice no longer," he said with a warm laugh. "You better get Bella downstairs quickly, Edward, or your sister will have all our heads."

"Ugh," Bella cringed, then blushed as she remembered herself. "I don't mean to seem to ungrateful, but-"

"It's perfectly understandable," Carlisle interjected. "Birthdays were never my cup of tea either."

Together, they approached the top of the stairs, Edward's arm slung casually around his Juliet's shoulder. Carlisle took the rear.

"Oh, by the way," Bella said, pausing for an instant on the first step, "Edward showed me the painting in your study…the one of the Volturi. It's gorgeous!"

"Yes." His reply was automatic.

And had Alice not distracted her with a delighted squeal, Bella would have seen the ugly guilt that for once, rendered Carlisle's face curiously dark. Lingering in the upstairs hall, he shut off the lamp in his study and locked the door behind him.