(rory strutting into the castle like the baddie vampire she is)
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RORY QUICKLY REDISCOVERED THAT SHE HATED SILENCE. She had grown used to never having a true moment of silence in Forks. Carlisle had a penchant for playing classical music in the house while researching, Emmett was always playing video games, Esme would be out in the garden, Rosalie would be in the garage, Edward with the piano or Bella, Alice binge-watched Netflix shows, and Jasper watching his old western movies or talking to her. She missed them, all of them, and especially Jasper.
She had forgotten how quiet the Volturi vampires could be. After the confrontation, barely any words were exchanged as they ran full speed back to Seattle, in want of leaving the country. Even on the long, fifteen hour private plane ride, Alec barely engaged in conversation despite sitting beside her. He mostly flipped through folders and filled out official reports, the Volturi desiring to keep official track of their operations. Rory felt more alone than ever before as she sat in her seat next to the private planes's window, a purse full of unopened letters, and wanting nothing more to be surrounded by the beautiful, ever green trees of the woods of her home.
She had finally realized despite being back with the Volturi, she wasn't really with them. She had began to classify them as they and her, no longer on the same side—not that she could claim the Cullens, she was really on her own. They were indifferent and condescending towards the human world that she had been reconnecting with the past month. She was powerful, yes, but the vampires surrounding her had ten times more life experience than her and even more. They were the knights while she was a mere pawn, a piece in the game.
The Volturi castle was as breathtaking and imposing as it had been the first time Rory had opened her eyes to find herself thirsty for blood and no memory besides her name. The ancient home looked the same as when she had left it, same thousand year old tapestries, sculptures, and gorgeous artwork—a few of her own pieces were on display—decorated the stone corridors.
However, Rory no longer saw it as the safe haven she once believed it to be as a naive, all too-trusting newborn. The castle's shadows seemed darker than ever as she walked beside Alec who led the forefront of their group. They passed the lower guards on duty that night, exchanging brief nods. Maritza, the receptionist who just began working at the castle before she left, was still there to greet them, a bright eyes and an unsuspecting smile.
She thumbed the thick, heavy fabric of the jet-ink black cloak that Demetri shoved into her hands the moment the jet landed in Italy. She had realized what the cloaks of the Volturi Guard symbolized too late. Much too late.
She had always known the Volturi were never opposed to manipulating situations in order to benefit themselves, but the underhanded, belligerent way the matter of the Cullens and the newborn army was handled shocked Rory. Perhaps remembering her past allowed her to merge a secondary perspective of the royal coven's dealings, either way, Rory was not the same Aurora who left Italy only a month ago.
