I Love/Hate Nessie VD Contest

Pen Name: BecauseShe Can

Story Title: Black Velvet

Rating: M

Disclaimer: Character death/ lemon

Summary: Indecision is good, he thinks, indecision means she is fighting with herself. Indecision means that she could be his. He could possess her; he could claim the greatest prize in their world. Indecision means she is halfway there.

Stance: Hate.

Relationships are capricious things. Over the course of centuries even the strongest bonds weaken. Forever is just a word; no matter how strongly the lovers believe what they say. It is in the nature of love to grow, to change, and to form new bonds. Change comes slowly, especially for their kind, but it does come. Centuries may pass before the ties that once bound them together diminish. Marcus has lived long enough to watch the slow disentanglement of affections, and this family before him is no different.

The year is 2307, the world is still alive, still thriving, humans laugh and live, they still come to visit the city; to visit the homes of the ancient. A thousand years has passed since the Volturi took their place as the royalty of the vampire world. The day is February 14th, the sun has long since left the sky, and the spacious Volturi castle is crowded with the undead. Every vampire who wishes to keep in the good graces of the brothers has come, some out of curiosity, many out of fear, and a few out of obligation.

Marcus sits on his throne. No one expects him to move, and he is happy not to. He enjoys observing, and this particular coven, or family he should say. Their respective personal relationships, once a bright flame, have cooled to a glow. They still love steady and strong, but the intensity has waned. However the bond that all eight family members feel towards the youngest one is still as bright as it was the day on the battlefield all those years ago. The reasons for this are most likely numerous, but Marcus speculates that she is the only one they have watched grow. They have all taken care of her, loved and her protected her. She is their innocent, the tie that binds. Each Cullen feels a special devotion to her, and without her the abnormally large coven would have likely separated years before.

He examines her closely from a distance. Her bronze hair falls down her back in perfect spiral ringlets. Her skin is tinted pink; and he wants to feel how soft it is; could it possibly hold true warmth? He imagines the softness of her skin, running his finger down her arm, circling her breast, seeing her unusual brown eyes look at him, with desire and need. Yes, he decides, Renesemee Cullen is a prize to be won.

He sits and watches the Cullen clan, within minutes a waltz begins to play and Carlisle bends in an over exaggerated bow and leads his mate to the floor. The other men in the circle lead their respective partners to the floor. Seizing an opportunity he leaves the throne as he walks along the wall; to her. He watches her watch her family. He feels her love, her loyalty. How little she knows, if only she knew that she could lead them all. Their loyalty lies with her, no one wants to disappoint her, and no one wants to make her scream. This beautiful creature, so young at only 300 years, so odd and so innocent, has her entire world wrapped around her finger.

He leaves the shadows and walks behind her. She is the perfect height, he thinks, and her head could rest comfortably on his shoulder. She smells delicious, and her body, he can feel her heat from here. "Care to dance?" He whispers, his breath ghosts above her ear, and he pulls back to allow her to see him. Her brown eyes widen for a second, shocked perhaps, that he would ask her. She is adorable, he thinks, she stammers, unsure of herself, then nods her acceptance.

Marcus takes her hand, noting that they are gloved. Smart girl, always protecting herself, he finds himself wishing that she would trust him enough to leave her hand ungloved; how he would love the intimacy of knowing another's thoughts so well again. The music weaves around them, the move with all the characteristic grace one associates with their kind, but even more so. Her hand plays with the collar of his jacket, and his thumb traces circles on her waist. A special thrill goes through him, as he realizes that this is the first party in a very long time in which he is not merely an observer. He is dancing, on the floor, being observed. What are they thinking? What do they feel? Then just as suddenly as the realization comes it goes, Renesemme lowers her head on his shoulder and releases a small sigh, so soft it is barely audible to even his ears. His hands pull her a little tighter, against him.

Far too soon for his liking the song ends, unable to let her go he leads her to the outside gardens. With his hand on her back he can feel the slight warmth of her body, another special characteristic due to her unique birth. It is such a strange notion for him, she was always a vampire but she evolved, she changed, he had seen her when she was only three months old now look at her tonight, under the black velvet moonless sky.

The two stand in silence, their bodies still moving back and forth, almost dancing but not quite. Marcus is happy that there is no moon; it makes the stars shine brighter, for her. He then shakes his head and smiles to himself, as he wonders what such a foolish romantic idea was doing in such a jaded brain as his. He moves his other hand to reclaim her hand and the two dance in silence.

"I'm not going to join your organization." Nessie states, but she leaves her hands in their place, one on his shoulder, the other delicately cradled in his own.

"I don't recall asking." Marcus answers.

"What do you want from me?" Nessie asks, her voice breaks slightly and he hesitates.

It is impossible to know for sure what this is without the dog here. Still he doesn't want to lie to her, so he answers. "A touch. From an ungloved hand."

She holds his eyes, and he wishes he could know what she was thinking, all he can see on her face is pain and indecision. Indecision is good, he thinks, indecision means she is fighting with herself. Indecision means that she could be his. He could possess her; he could claim the greatest prize in their world. Indecision means she is halfway there.

After an eternity passes them by she whispers 'I can't," and runs off into the darkness back to the safety of her family, but a piece of her remain with him, outside feeling things she has never felt before, in his arms.

The ball is over, and Marcus once again sits on the throne, he has had countless visitors these past few hours paying tribute and giving their respects before returning to their ordinary lives. There is only one family that he is anxiously waiting to see. When Marcus first asked if the dog be allowed to come and pay his own tribute Aro had thought he had momentarily lost his mind, but allowed it nonetheless; he thought it would be amusing. However amusement is the last thing Marcus is feeling right now as he anxiously awaits the Cullen's arrival, he needs to see the two of them together. As he sees the Cullen's finally approaching Marcus watches the family's interaction carefully, especially between Jacob and Nessie. She stands always a foot away from him, his sole attention rest with her, but Marcus is pleased to discover the her eyes never leave himself, she pays no attention to Jacob.

Aro talks and with one part of his brain Marcus is listening but the other part of his brain, the more dominant, the side she now controls is focused on her. It is no obvious to him that whatever bond was once there between the child and herself has been severed a long time ago. She loves him, yes, but not love love. Not true love, not the bond that one expects one to feel towards their mate. The more he watches in these few short minutes the more it becomes clear to him. Almost every Cullen feels absolutely no loyalty to Jacob. Nessie doesn't even particularly care for him. His hands constantly reach for her, but she is always a step out of reach, she jumps when he breaths too loudly, she positively growled at him at one point, yet with all this going on their eyes never left each others for more than a few seconds. He would win his prize, he was sure of it.

Having made his decision, Marcus brushes his hand against Aro's. The unexpected touch confuses him until he understands; he glances to Nessie then back at Marcus with an amused, but deadly smile on his face. "Carlisle, dear friend I am afraid there is a slightly unpleasant matter that we must handle before you leave. It has come to our attention that relationship between the shape shifter and the half-breed is no longer safe. Is that true?"

The Cullens have become well disciplined through the years, and have trained their faces to not give them away. However the momentary wave of doubt and betrayal that Marcus can sense through their emotions betray them far more than their facial expressions ever did. Bella is perhaps the most hurt, she glances at her daughter, but Nessie will look at no one other than Marcus. Even as a stunned Jacob stutters, "I don't know what you mean."

"We need this confirmed by Renesemee. Is your relationship going to endure?" Aro asks again.

"Damn you." She whispers, quietly, softly. Her eyes finally leave his. The silence last for a few seconds before Nessie is on the floor writhing in pain. The attack only lasted seconds, as Bella quickly puts up her shield. Carlisle steps forward, and engages Aro in an argument, but it is muffled, all he can do is stare at her. He knows she felt no true pain, and nothing is damaged, but his hands are tearing at the cloth of the chair to stop himself from going to her and holding her. This demon child has infected herself in his non-existent blood and he is almost out of control with a need for her.

Aro asks her the ultimate question again. "Will your relationship endure. Do you still love him?" Her silence is damning. Damning her to pain, damning the dog to death, damning Marcus to torture. If she cannot say she loves him it is clear she doesn't, still he needs her to say those words. He needs her to renounce the mutt, he needs her to choose him.

Their fates were sealed last night when he held her, when she sighed against his chest, when he almost felt her bare hand, when he almost had access to her soul. There is no doubt that he wants her. Even now as he watches her face turn full of shame, and her eyes avoid his he wants to fuck her. He wants to kiss her lips until the bruise, because hers are the only ones whose can. He wants to make blood flow to her cheeks that can still blush. And how immensely satisfying would it be to know that the only other man to do this will soon be dead? He couldn't have written a better happily ever after for the two of them.

"No." Edward whispers, and Marcus looks up. Edward has heard it all, he knows his daughters choice, the big bad blood drinker over the loyal dog. Marcus can see the rage, the disappointment everywhere around them, but what he sees most clearly is the acceptance. "She doesn't love him," Edward whispers.

"Renesmee?" Bella questions.

"I- I can't." She answers and runs out of the room. Aro, looks to Marcus and signals to the guards to leave her be before turning to the Cullen's with a cheerful smile. "Of course this means we cannot allow him to live." Each member of the 'family' looks shocked and angry but Marcus knows the truth. The Cullen's won't fight for him. Marcus knew this before they even entered the room, his girl has them all wrapped tightly around her finger. No one, besides Jacob makes a sound, as Felix escorts the dog out of the room. Heidi takes the Cullen's back to their rooms, despite their protests, to wait for Nessie. As soon as they are gone Marcus makes his way through the labyrinth of the castle. He has a good guess as to where she has gone.

Marcus feels no remorse for what he has done, and even better he knows Nessie feels no remorse either. True, she might be a little sad, any loss of life is worth mourning, but he knows she feels no regret. She cannot regret finally being free. As he approaches the double doors he takes an unnecessary breath. The vision of her, in the sunlight, natural without any fancy dress or hair is simply stunning. He walks outside, and tries to be careful and not disturb her, but it doesn't matter. As soon as he walks outside she turns around, pushes him against the castle and says "I know it was you."

He cannot deny it. He does not want to deny it. He is happy he did it, he freed her from a life of obligatory love, he gave her freedom, he gave himself an opportunity, why should he be sorry? "I am obliged to serve my brothers."

Renesmee slams him against the castle wall before tossing him across the patio. He allows her to. He sees the building moisture in her eyes, and knows that she needs him right now. She needs him to be at fault for this, for killing him. She cannot accept the fact that she wanted it. She cannot deal with the idea that Jacobs kisses were beginning to make her sick that his love was beginning to be suffocating. She could not accept the face that in her heart of hearts she wished for it, and now, not only was it done but her entire family knew. "He has done nothing wrong," she half cries, half whispers.

"And yet you no longer love him." Marcus says in the most soothing tone he can, but he is out of practice being comforting. He just wants her to not be like this, he wants her every which way except how she is now, because in this moment she is an indulgent petulant child who has always gotten exactly what she wants. She still has exactly what she wants, she wants him. She wants him. And it is her own damn fault if she doesn't want to want him, but he wants her and there is no way he is going to miss out on this because she feels bad. Fuck her and her feelings, she could have fought for Jacob but she didn't. She didn't and now she needs to lie in her bed. Preferably with him.

"Just because I no longer love him doesn't mean he needs to die." She says.

"No, but he has far outlived his lifespan." He whispers and places a hand on her back. It is light and awkward, but she doesn't shrug him off.

"That is not for you to decide," she turns on him and hits him again, he is thrown against the far garden wall. Marcus stands, and brushes off his pants, he is ready for a confrontation until he sees a small smile on her lips. He walks to her and he knows he is smiling, and it feels weird to smile. It feels unnatural as if he is forcing his face into this position, but when he tries to stop he finds he can't. "You didn't fight for him." He whispers. His hand reaches tentatively for her face, and his fingertips finally feel their truth warmth. That will always surprise him he thinks.

She pushes him and sends him flying backwards. She pushes him and she made a mistake because in that second he could see a glimpse. Her bare hand did not connect with his shirt, her hand touched his skin and he could see them, dancing under the stars, it was just a blur but it promised so much more.

He quickly runs back to her, once more and asks her, "Why didn't you fight for him?"

She screams at him to shut up. She might not have loved Jake, she might have resented him, she might have come to hate the feel of his touch, the sound of his laugh, the love he gave so freely to her that suffocated him but she did love him. He was always there, she owed him loyalty, she owed him her love and so she gave, and she gave, and she tried because he loved her and she did what she was supposed to do. She cannot deal with the fact that her silence signed his death certificate, even worse that she was relieved and overcome with gratitude to Marcus. All she can do is scream at him to stop talking but he won't. Marcus advances on her, barraging her with questions, "Why didn't you fight for him? Why didn't you say anything? Why did you run? Or better yet, why did you dance with me?"

Marcus grabs her hand and pulls her into an embrace that resembles a dance position that mocks the tender touch he treated her with last night. It is too tight, too cruel, too needy, but it is also right. His hand holds hers and suddenly her answer is not spoken with her lips but her mind. He sees himself through her eyes. He feels so ancient that he forgets he is trapped in the same body of his youth. Bright red eyes, long black hair are not menacing in her mind, instead he sees himself as quiet and charming.

His fingers slowly caress hers.

Now he sees himself as he is in this moment. His face is full of a vulnerability he didn't know he possessed. "What do you want Renesemee?" He asks, as he tilts his head down bringing his lips to hers, pausing just before they touch. She smiles, and shows him. He sees what she wants, everything she needs, and he swears to himself it will be better. He closes the space between their lips, and fulfills both their wishes.

The simple kiss is perhaps the most erotic thing Marcus ever experiences. Their left hands are still entwined and through this he not only experiences the kiss himself but he also experiences it through her eyes. Before his lips can touch hers he sees through her mind what she wants. As the kiss continues he can feel her pleasure enhancing his own. As he bites her here, and caress her there, he not only hears her sighs he feels them. His lips leave hers to worship her neck, just underneath her jaw he finds a spot that makes images of clawing hands, ripping dresses, sighs of pleasure, scratching backs, pulling hair, soft skin, needing, wanting, everything, overload both their minds.

Not enough, she thinks. Not enough, he hears. Nothing is enough, the lips, the mouths, the needing, the wanting, the years, hundreds of years for the both of them. For him it has been hundreds of years without fire, without this all consuming unrelenting need to posses. She has never felt this, never in her life has she felt this alive, this wonderful and she knows she will never regret what occurred earlier. Jake cheated her out of this, this could have been hers earlier, she deserves this, and she needs him.

Needing him, it is the last thought Marcus hears, before their connection is severed. Her hand is no longer holding his; instead her hands are pulling and tugging at his clothes. Out here in the garden? The thought leaves his mind almost as fast as it comes. It doesn't matter where. All he needs is her, all he wants is her. His prize, but so much more. Her lips are everywhere, on his shoulder, across his chest, as she removes the last pieces of his clothes he feels her hand on his bare skin. He feels her again, she is back inside his brain, craving him wanting him; reminding him that she is still fully clothed.

He remedies that quickly, his lips find hers once again and her hands grip his shoulders as he fumbles on all the damn buttons of her blouse. One by one, too slow she thinks, more she thinks, more, faster, need, want, you. You. You. Finally the blouse is off, the jeans are gone, the bra is quickly discarded, and the panties are all that is left. Nessie reaches down, until finally there are no barriers. Just bare skin on bare skin. Just him and her, red and brown, good and evil some would say, but all he can see is her. Just Nessie. This indescribable minx, everything good and pure but he can see the depths they ignore. He can see her. Just as she is, devious, angelic, wanton, evil, good, everything. She is everything. The moment they are finally together, the moment is unnamable.

Soft and long, hard and fast, too fast, too slow, not there. Yes. He knows the second she loves something, the second something feels good, he rapidly adjust to pleasure her, everything is for her. He is hers, as long as she is also his. She cannot follow him; their rhythm is disjointed, until she finally gives him the control he needs. Her body is his to pleasure. Every sigh is his reward, every moan, every little scream and breathless please and more, spurs him forward. Pleasing her, experiencing her pleasure, feeling her body lost in sensations as he reads her mind drives him forward. Faster and faster she spirals out of control, her mind looses all coherency and then she leaves him. Her mind is gone into a brilliant nothingness as pleasure consumes her, and he quickly follows. Free of her thoughts he pushes himself until he too loses control, and collapses next to her.

Her body finds his. His is still cold, despite the passion, the need, the want; he remains ice. Hers is close to fire. He turns his head ever so slightly to look at her, his hand cradles her cheek just as gently as he did the night before. She smiles, "I'm still not joining."

"I don't recall asking." He says.

"What do you want?" Nessie asks, he might be able to see every thought in her head but she has no idea what is going on beyond those ruby eyes. Whatever this is has taken them both by surprise. He knows he can't leave, he learned long ago that Aro would never let him. But she can't stay. The shame of having Jake put to death will kill her when she sees her family again, and though she is not ashamed of what just occurred she could never explain it. Even if she could she could never leave her family.

Finally Marcus speaks, "A night like this, whenever you get the urge."

"That could be quite often," Nessie smiles as she runs her nail along his arm, happy that whatever this is isn't over quite yet.

"Oh I hope so. You are free to come and go as much as you want." Marcus says as leans over her again. His lips kiss along the curve of her shoulder, slow, patient kisses that he had been able to give her before. Her hand tangles itself in his hair as he nips her soft, warm, oh so warm, skin.

"Can I come again right now?" She asks. His slow smile is answer enough.

It is dark outside again when Nessie is finally reunited with her family. Marcus sits on the throne, consumed with images of her from their interlude, and he reminds himself that he can never again touch his brother; these moments are for himself alone. Many of the guests are gone, the wolf is already disposed of, and the dark castle is back to its natural state.

After midnight the Cullen's appear before the brothers one last time to show their final respects before leaving for the States. The exchange is brief and uninteresting for almost everyone involved, except them of course. Their eyes once again hold each other's until it is time to leave. It is not until she is almost gone that she turns back for one last look.

It is in that last glance that he sees the delicate threads between them solidify, and he knows he has won her, the ultimate prize.

So do you hate her or love her? Me, personally, I can't decide.