Woman of the Hour // volturi kings

06. strangers

1996

The first year flew by for Claire as she had gallivanted all over England, Greece and France. She had spent a few weeks in Amsterdam, a short stint in Spain and an entire month traveling around Scotland. She immersed herself in their cultures, she flourished around the arts and had spent countless hours in ornate and expansive libraries, days visiting art galleries and museums and many nights enjoying plays and performances.

She had just landed in Italy, where she planned to stay until her newly developed wanderlust returned. For some reason, she doubted that the urge to move on would return. It felt like her soul hummed in contentment as soon as she stepped off the plane.

She was looking forward to seeing the Trevi Fountain, the ruins of Pompeii, the Colosseum of Rome, The Valley of Temples and the Uffizi and Accademia Galleries. She had managed to rent a small villa in Rome from a lovely couple she had met in Lyon; they were traveling for the weekend when poor Claire literally ran into them while she was admiring the architecture of the Opéra National de Lyon, snapping photos to send back to the Malloy's and not paying attention to her surroundings. She had frantically apologised while they simply laughed in response, amused by her antics. They were quickly taken by the young woman; her infectious charm and joy drew them in.

After managing to grab a taxi, she was on her way to the one-bedroom villa close to the Basilica of Our Lady in Trastevere. Claire had already managed to fill one roll of film before she arrived at her accommodation; she would get them developed when she wandered around the city so she could send copies to the Malloy's. The villa was small, but the space was well organised so it didn't feel claustrophobic even though most of the walls were full of framed prints, the one bookshelf in the living room was overflowing with novels, text books and reference books and the queen bed was covered with plush pillows and a hand-knitted throw. It was warm and homey, a space she felt like she'd enjoy returning to after a long day. The small balcony was a surprise, it looked over the immaculate gardens of Villa Farnesina and across the River Tiber.

Yes, she was positively going to love it here.

﹌﹌﹌

Claire was a month into her visit to Italy, she had managed to see a few of her bucket list attractions and a few more obscure buildings and galleries. Like the one she was visiting right now, the Etruscan Guarnacci Museum. It was located in the city of Volterra, in Tuscany. It probably wasn't the best day for venturing around the Tuscan countryside, it was overcast and looked like it would rain at any moment, but she couldn't pass up the opportunity to see most of the country. She had managed to find a small tour group for the day; they had started their late morning visiting a vineyard, sipping wine and sampling traditional Tuscan foods. Claire would admit she drank a little more than everyone else, the tour group consisted of mostly older couples and their hosts had been very generous with their servings.

Trying to ignore the light buzzing in her head, she strayed from the group to browse the antiquities. The museum was surprisingly dark, the lighting of the exhibits was minimal, and the lack of windows gave the ground level an eerie feeling. She was absorbed in the ancient pottery and sculptures, toying with her bottom lip between her teeth while her long hair cascaded over one shoulder.

Marcus Volturi was enjoying one of his rare days away from the castle, the weather allowed him to venture around the city without the worry of revealing himself to mortals and his brothers were capable of handling the castle if any issues arose. He lived for his time outside of the castle, the stone walls felt like a cage after a few hundred years. It was the only sliver of happiness he had to look forward to.

A long time ago he found happiness in a woman, his wife, Didyme. Although they weren't mates, they loved each other dearly and he was left a shell of himself when she was murdered by a werewolf; the beast seeking revenge for the slaughter of his kin had managed to break his way into the castle tower and kill Marcus' wife, as well as Aro's and Caius' wives, Suplicia and Athenodora. His brothers were not as devastated about the loss, they had been drifting away from the partners for centuries. Though, Caius used it as motivation to wipe the remaining werewolves from existence.