Washington was beautiful in a way Elia hadn't expected.
The fog and mist and general rainy atmosphere did nothing to take away from the etherealness of the forests and mountains surrounding the tiny town of Forks.
She had touched down in Portland a few hours before, and almost immediately, her phone chimed as an unknown number texted her nothing but an address.
Elia pulled over her rental car a few miles from the address she had received. She would walk from here and observe before she let her presence be known. As much as she trusted Carlisle, she had never truly been able to shake the paranoia that had latched onto her during her time as one of Sancar's unwilling brides.
As she ran through the forest, patchy sunlight throwing kaleidoscopes of colors off of her exposed marble skin, Elia thought back to the last time she had seen Carlisle.
Oh, the promises they had made! They swore to never lose touch with one another, and to visit as often as they could as their paths took them in different directions; Carlisle through the heart of Europe in search of the fabled vampire government, and Elia to follow Dilara on her quest to find Siobhan.
Now, here they were, about to see each other for the first time in nearly three hundred years.
She slowed to a stop at the sight of the house. Glorious and made almost entirely of glass—it made quite the picture. It was not at all what she had pictured Carlisle choosing, not when she remembered him barely a few decades old and quite content to spend a night in any available derelict building, but perhaps it was his new family's influence that led to such an ostentatious choice.
Elia scaled one of the trees and settled in to observe the activity of the house.
There were several immortals roaming about the yard, talking battle strategy. Past and present. This, within itself, was cause for concern. Carlisle had said nothing of a battle to be fought. To add to Elia's growing misgivings, most of them bore crimson eyes.
A few showed to follow Carlisle's diet which settled her frayed nerves enough that she no longer felt as if she would crush the tree limb she was clinging to.
Just to the side of the house, in a dying spring garden, a little girl was making a flower crown out of winter weeds. Confusion over the girl's presence and fear for her safety almost brought her down from the tree, caution be damned, but just as quick as she decided to run for the girl, two young immortals stepped out of the house and went to her side.
"Mommy, look what I made!" The girl's delighted voice rang out over the yard.
Elia could see even the sternest faces amongst her kind soften at the sound, but she was more focused on what the girl had said.
Mommy.
Everything in Elia screamed that it was impossible.
But even as her mind warred against the very suggestion of what the girl could have meant, she was taking in all the abnormalities that she possessed. Her heartbeat, which was far too quick to be healthy for a mortal; the slight shimmer of her skin in the sunlight.
The speed at which she now threw herself into the waiting arms of her mother.
"It's beautiful, Renesmee," the newborn woman praised.
The man standing beside them was clearly the girl's father if the resemblance between them and the absolute and utter adoration in his eyes was anything to go on.
"Oh, Carlisle," Aurelia breathed, near silent. "What have you done?"
Her mind raced with the implications of such a child, the danger she could be. This was a crime, one of the highest order. It was no wonder why his family had been marked for death.
The Volturi would kill them all for this. Just for daring to bare witness to it.
But, even as Elia's fear and despair grew, it was impossible for her to think harshly of the creature as she watched her giggle with joy as her father swung her into the air. She appeared as if any other human child would. Innocent. Fragile.
"She should be here by now, Esme. What if she's decided not to come?"
The achingly familiar voice pulled Elia's attention from the girl and to the living room window where, for the first time in so very long, she laid eyes on the man who had saved her life.
Carlisle was standing at the window, looking out over the yard, a frown marring his exquisite face.
A pretty brunette woman wrapped her arms around his waist from behind him, and Elia could see the tension seep out of him as he placed his hands over hers.
"She'll come," she reassured, softly. A very pleasing cadence to her voice. "If she's even a fraction of the woman you've described, she'll come. Hold fast, my love."
This was very clearly Carlisle's mate. She knew he would never settle for less than what fate had chosen for him. He'd always had so much more faith than her, in everything, but especially when it came to love.
Hearing his doubt turned out to be too much for Elia to bear.
Leaping down from her hiding place, she walked slowly out into yard, as not to alarm anyone with her unannounced presence. Someone hissed in her direction, but she only had eyes for Carlisle.
Their gazes met through the glass, and for a singular moment, the world stood still as her heart rejoiced at being reunited with the man who had changed her life so extraordinarily.
Who had reached out and pulled her in from the cold and dark night she existed in when he didn't have to.
He was in front of her in a instant, soft eyes shimmering with the idea of tears as one hand reached out as if to see if she were real. Her mind recalled the first time he had offered his hand to her, and how her life had never been the same.
Something told her this time would be no different.
"You came."
Elia smiled and through the lump in her throat laughed for the first time in what felt like decades. There, in the scarred ruins of her chest, the smallest of flames flickered back to life under his gaze.
"Did you ever doubt it?"
When he took her in his arms, his own laughter ringing in her ears, Elia thought back to the humans at the airport, and for a moment stood in kinship with them, as this hello unmade her so completely before building her back up again.
Terrifying and wonderful, indeed.