Facts and Fictions, PG-13 [Rosalie Hale, Twilight]
Title: Facts and Fictions
Author: i_am_girlfriday
Fandom: Twilight
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Mentions of rape, murder, suicide, mental illness, and anorexia. (My, that's cheerful!) Spoilers through Breaking Dawn.
Prompt: 12) The human mind can bear plenty of reality but not too much intermittent gloom. -- Margaret Drabble.
Summary: Three quarters of a century after her own death, Rosalie Hale finally learns the facts and fictions of life.
Author’s Notes: I wanted to give more attention to Rosalie than her creator ever did. Thanks to my beta nebakanezer for all the encouragement.
Rosalie Hale has been around long enough to test trite expressions and clichés. She knows people can forgive, and she understands that some people can forget; Rosalie will do neither. She harbors old grudges, and betrayals don’t ever really fade. They leave scars, scars that you have to carry and cover up the best you can. She may have been inhumanly beautiful even before she became still like marble, but Rosalie’s never been able to make her insides match her façade. She was scarred and damaged even before those men marred her pristine face and broke her body.
It’s true, she thinks; you can’t have your cake and eat it too. Rosalie could stare in a mirror for hours, but she’s not looking because she’s vain. She’s looking for her soul, and like her body it is starved. By her approximation she’s been on a perpetual diet for three quarters of a century. Her mother was always encouraging her to starve down just a little bit. Rosalie could ignore the rumbling in her empty stomach and the sting in her eyes when she looked in the mirror and saw her delicate shoulders, and dainty wrists and ankles. Now she’s stuck with this body and she wishes she’d savored roast duck and cherry pies. She wishes there was something soft about her--hips that curved, breasts that swelled--now she is nothing but smooth, sleek planes of stone.
Time does not heal all wounds. Decades don’t give Rosalie distance or perspective in the same way they do for the rest of the Cullens. Time is Rosalie’s enemy, because it’s all she has and nothing she wants. Many of the dull human memories fade and blur, but the painful one grows more vivid with her crystalline vision. Though vampires have no need for sleep or even the impulse to blink, she’s got waking nightmares. When she closes her eyes out of habit it sometimes feels like daggers in her heart. She’s surrounded by so much love, and even though it should be a welcome remedy it’s like adding insult upon injury.
Rosalie agrees you only hurt the ones you love. She deals with her despair by turning it into anger, but there’s nowhere for her anger to go. Since she has long since killed the men that left her for dead, Rosalie turns on those that accept her, flaws and all. She hates Edward so much, but the ever-present reason is that he hears every ugly, self-loathing thought she has and he still treats her like she is something whole and worthy. She hates Carlisle for saving her, for thinking it would be a waste for the world to be without her. She hates Esme for caring, and because she’s never treated Rosalie like a feather in a makeshift mother’s hat. She hates Emmett for forgiving her after she did the thing she swore she would never do. She hates Alice and she hates Jasper and she’s stopped thinking of reasons why.
When she’s on the cusp of sinking into depression, everyone dances on eggshells. It only takes Alice five years of trying to stop Rosalie’s bouts and failing before she realizes that no matter how much warning she can provide, some things cannot be stopped. It takes Alice another five years before she can warn Rose without feeling like she’s committing some horrible betrayal. Rose just nods her thanks and convinces Emmett that it’s time for some space. She’s grateful to get away before the dark thoughts cloud her judgment and are loud enough for Edward to hear. She and Emmett stay away until some of the darkness abates. Her husband is extraordinarily patient, maybe even a bit naïve. Somehow they work well together, especially when everything else seems to be beyond repair.
It’s difficult to tell who her grief affects more. As a doctor, Carlisle knows that medically Rosalie suffers from decreased serotonin, but without a central nervous system finding a cure is a moot point. Esme’s eyes get dull and no amount of hunting makes them glow bright amber. It’s like she’s seeing those jagged cliffs again, and sometimes her empathy looks suspiciously like pity. Alice can’t remember a thing about her life before she was turned, but she has a distinct muscle memory of madness that makes her flinch.
***
When the Cullens return to Forks for the second time Rosalie feels good. She finds relief in monotony. About a year and half in and she gets a bad feeling. She doesn’t have a special ability like Alice, Jasper, or Edward. She has common sense, and an understanding of Murphy’s Law--everything that can go wrong will. And it does, spectacularly, the day Isabella Swan moves to town. Bella’s blood is Edward’s siren song. She’s mortal, a walking disaster, but still she invites herself into their world instead of running away.
Rosalie has perfected the art of accepting things she cannot change, and gained the courage to try and change the things she can. So she tells Bella flat out that she is making a mistake and hopes she can persuade Bella to keep on living and forgo forever. Rosalie will not usher out Bella’s last breath willingly. No one should choose this life; it chooses you, she thinks.
Despite appearances, Rosalie does not hate Bella. She insists upon it, but Bella cannot be dissuaded. Emmett knows what’s in Rose’s heart and Edward knows what’s inside her head, though he does little to explain the truth. Vilifying Rosalie relieves much of his guilt. Rosalie resents this, but she understands Edward’s selfish motives far better than anyone else ever could. It hurts when Esme and Carlisle chide her needlessly, but she takes it, because there are times when they are silent and Rose deserves far worse.
***
Rosalie Hale plans on holding a grudge against Isabella Swan for throwing away a perfectly good soul for a half-life of eternity. Everything changes when she gets a phone call from Bella who’s on that hot island past the equator and half way to hell. Just one plea turns Rosalie into Bella’s only ally.
Rosalie wishes she could weep bitterness straight from her eyes, but she’s never worn spite well. It takes her three quarters of a century to accept that bad things happen to good people and life is seldom fair, and just a few minutes to understand that sometimes there are happy endings and every loose end gets tied. She will struggle eternally to find peace in a world full of contradiction, but the irony isn’t lost on her--death has been the greatest teacher on the facts and fictions of life.
Author: i_am_girlfriday
Fandom: Twilight
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Mentions of rape, murder, suicide, mental illness, and anorexia. (My, that's cheerful!) Spoilers through Breaking Dawn.
Prompt: 12) The human mind can bear plenty of reality but not too much intermittent gloom. -- Margaret Drabble.
Summary: Three quarters of a century after her own death, Rosalie Hale finally learns the facts and fictions of life.
Author’s Notes: I wanted to give more attention to Rosalie than her creator ever did. Thanks to my beta nebakanezer for all the encouragement.
Rosalie Hale has been around long enough to test trite expressions and clichés. She knows people can forgive, and she understands that some people can forget; Rosalie will do neither. She harbors old grudges, and betrayals don’t ever really fade. They leave scars, scars that you have to carry and cover up the best you can. She may have been inhumanly beautiful even before she became still like marble, but Rosalie’s never been able to make her insides match her façade. She was scarred and damaged even before those men marred her pristine face and broke her body.
It’s true, she thinks; you can’t have your cake and eat it too. Rosalie could stare in a mirror for hours, but she’s not looking because she’s vain. She’s looking for her soul, and like her body it is starved. By her approximation she’s been on a perpetual diet for three quarters of a century. Her mother was always encouraging her to starve down just a little bit. Rosalie could ignore the rumbling in her empty stomach and the sting in her eyes when she looked in the mirror and saw her delicate shoulders, and dainty wrists and ankles. Now she’s stuck with this body and she wishes she’d savored roast duck and cherry pies. She wishes there was something soft about her--hips that curved, breasts that swelled--now she is nothing but smooth, sleek planes of stone.
Time does not heal all wounds. Decades don’t give Rosalie distance or perspective in the same way they do for the rest of the Cullens. Time is Rosalie’s enemy, because it’s all she has and nothing she wants. Many of the dull human memories fade and blur, but the painful one grows more vivid with her crystalline vision. Though vampires have no need for sleep or even the impulse to blink, she’s got waking nightmares. When she closes her eyes out of habit it sometimes feels like daggers in her heart. She’s surrounded by so much love, and even though it should be a welcome remedy it’s like adding insult upon injury.
Rosalie agrees you only hurt the ones you love. She deals with her despair by turning it into anger, but there’s nowhere for her anger to go. Since she has long since killed the men that left her for dead, Rosalie turns on those that accept her, flaws and all. She hates Edward so much, but the ever-present reason is that he hears every ugly, self-loathing thought she has and he still treats her like she is something whole and worthy. She hates Carlisle for saving her, for thinking it would be a waste for the world to be without her. She hates Esme for caring, and because she’s never treated Rosalie like a feather in a makeshift mother’s hat. She hates Emmett for forgiving her after she did the thing she swore she would never do. She hates Alice and she hates Jasper and she’s stopped thinking of reasons why.
When she’s on the cusp of sinking into depression, everyone dances on eggshells. It only takes Alice five years of trying to stop Rosalie’s bouts and failing before she realizes that no matter how much warning she can provide, some things cannot be stopped. It takes Alice another five years before she can warn Rose without feeling like she’s committing some horrible betrayal. Rose just nods her thanks and convinces Emmett that it’s time for some space. She’s grateful to get away before the dark thoughts cloud her judgment and are loud enough for Edward to hear. She and Emmett stay away until some of the darkness abates. Her husband is extraordinarily patient, maybe even a bit naïve. Somehow they work well together, especially when everything else seems to be beyond repair.
It’s difficult to tell who her grief affects more. As a doctor, Carlisle knows that medically Rosalie suffers from decreased serotonin, but without a central nervous system finding a cure is a moot point. Esme’s eyes get dull and no amount of hunting makes them glow bright amber. It’s like she’s seeing those jagged cliffs again, and sometimes her empathy looks suspiciously like pity. Alice can’t remember a thing about her life before she was turned, but she has a distinct muscle memory of madness that makes her flinch.
***
When the Cullens return to Forks for the second time Rosalie feels good. She finds relief in monotony. About a year and half in and she gets a bad feeling. She doesn’t have a special ability like Alice, Jasper, or Edward. She has common sense, and an understanding of Murphy’s Law--everything that can go wrong will. And it does, spectacularly, the day Isabella Swan moves to town. Bella’s blood is Edward’s siren song. She’s mortal, a walking disaster, but still she invites herself into their world instead of running away.
Rosalie has perfected the art of accepting things she cannot change, and gained the courage to try and change the things she can. So she tells Bella flat out that she is making a mistake and hopes she can persuade Bella to keep on living and forgo forever. Rosalie will not usher out Bella’s last breath willingly. No one should choose this life; it chooses you, she thinks.
Despite appearances, Rosalie does not hate Bella. She insists upon it, but Bella cannot be dissuaded. Emmett knows what’s in Rose’s heart and Edward knows what’s inside her head, though he does little to explain the truth. Vilifying Rosalie relieves much of his guilt. Rosalie resents this, but she understands Edward’s selfish motives far better than anyone else ever could. It hurts when Esme and Carlisle chide her needlessly, but she takes it, because there are times when they are silent and Rose deserves far worse.
***
Rosalie Hale plans on holding a grudge against Isabella Swan for throwing away a perfectly good soul for a half-life of eternity. Everything changes when she gets a phone call from Bella who’s on that hot island past the equator and half way to hell. Just one plea turns Rosalie into Bella’s only ally.
Rosalie wishes she could weep bitterness straight from her eyes, but she’s never worn spite well. It takes her three quarters of a century to accept that bad things happen to good people and life is seldom fair, and just a few minutes to understand that sometimes there are happy endings and every loose end gets tied. She will struggle eternally to find peace in a world full of contradiction, but the irony isn’t lost on her--death has been the greatest teacher on the facts and fictions of life.