Volterra was not all court politics and years spent in dusty books most had forgotten. Carlisle had been invited to sit in on a portrait being painted of Aro, Marcus and Caius by a painter he barely hard heard of but with whom the three older vampires appeared to be enamoured.
All four of them manage to sit in a room and just be, a quiet joke or three passing between them in languages Carlisle still needs to practice.
It feels relaxing; Carlisle's eyes are closed in the finished painting - he still looks youngest.
Sulpicia told everyone
what she saw. Not in front of Carlisle, but it was obvious by the way Caius and Marcus started speaking with him as much as Aro ever did.
The edict dictating hunting in groups for the foreseeable future is what brings Carlisle his first true dose of fear in decades. If he will not be allowed to hunt without the guards, then --
"Aro, I must respectfully protest," Carlisle starts, keeping his voice as calm as possible. He sees Sulpicia biting back a smile beyond the dais and Aro just ignores him.
Carlisle knows he is faster than the guards he leaves the tunnels with to go hunting at night, but if he were to run he would have to be prepared to never return, alongside any retribution from the Dais as to what would be considered a personal rebuke against their hospitality all these years.
Can't run, except to keep up with the cloaks flying in the wind as they comb the streets noiselessly.
no not hereThey are approaching the
inn with gruesome intent; Carlisle can smell the innkeeper in the front room of the house, the boy upstairs
he has to be warned have to run my patient don'tCarlisle forces himself to trip against a cart parked in a cobblestone cross-street and the force rends the cart to splinters. The three guards spin and face Carlisle, knowing the distraction for what it is. The innkeeper isn't as quick on the uptake to stay inside -- he leans out of his front door with an iron poker.
Carlisle
is faster than the others. He runs full-tilt at the door, thrusting himself between the human and the guard.
"No. Non hai bisogno di fare questo."
The guard hisses in reply, grinding out, "You would deny me my prey, English?"
I am denied mine. Carlisle doesn't move. Neither does the human; he seems frozen in place and Carlisle can hear his heart palpitating.
The two other guards had been only in the periphery of Carlisle's focus. They manage to surprise him from either side, thrusting him forward into the clutches of the group's leader. Carlisle doesn't know what to expect, but he knows the rules -- travel with the group, obey the group, punished by the group.
He's never been bitten before (that he remembers). He inflicts some of his own that send the vampires in red snarling backwards and away from him, but in the end he has to be carried back to the Volturi gates.
The innkeeper survived.
"Do you have
any idea what it is to protect you here!" Aro shouts at Carlisle, more remonstration than question or demand. His scars still sting but the yelling helps Carlisle to focus. "They want me to hand you over to them! You attacked a guardsman! What am I supposed to do with you?"
Carlisle's voice cracks.
"Let me hunt on my own?""What did you just say to me."
There is no point in repeating; Carlisle can feel Aro's anger roll off of him in heavy waves.
"I have to hide you now -- the guards will expect retribution and I am not prepared for that," Aro starts. Carlisle lets himself feel a glimmer of hope for his predicament and follows the black-haired vampire away from his library home to a less-traveled section of the palatial grounds. Carlisle theorizes the doors they pass as old apartments or guest chambers. At least none have windows.
There is no point asking Aro how long he will made to stay here. Carlisle has no place to go, no demands on his time.
No one that needs him.
He starts to go hungry at the end of the first week.
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