Y/N is a witch on the run from Viktor and his Death Dealers... for conspicuous reasons. Along the way she makes a vital yet crucial decision that leads her to the Volturi. Aro Volturi had no intention falling in love with a mortal, let alone a witch...
In the dim, labyrinthine corridors, Aro retreated from his surveillance of Y/N. The patter of his shoes echoed through the empty halls as he made his way towards his solitary sanctuary.
With each step, his thoughts raced, a tempestuous torrent of emotions churning within him. He had witnessed Y/N's vulnerability, her longings laid bare before his unyielding gaze and her sadness that he had caused.
As he reached the sanctuary, he sat at his piano-forte. With a trembling hand, Aro lifted the lid of the instrument, the ivory keys gleaming under the soft candlelight. His fingers danced across them, evoking a mournful melody that mirrored the complexities of his heart.It was a melody that had always soothed his restless soul, a sanctuary where he could lose himself in the ethereal symphony of sound.
The notes flowed from his fingertips like tears, each one a testament to his love. The piano-forte became his confidant, his silent witness to the storm raging within him.
As the last notes faded into silence, Aro leaned back in his chair, his eyes closed. The music had poured out his soul, leaving him both exhilarated and exhausted. He always knew that his love for Y/N was forbidden, that it could only lead to heartache and ruin. Which, it had. By his own hand.
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Yet, as he stood up and made his way back to his own chamber, he couldn't shake the feeling that the melody he had played would forever haunt his memories, a poignant reminder of the love that he had lost. but, he allowed her to gain much more.
As Aro was making his way to his chamber. He was stopped by the shout of his name leaving a woman's lips. The only woman who would dare speak a ratchet tone. Athenodora.
Aro swiftly turned on his feet and faced her. She was marching up to him steadily and he sensed her anger along with the features displayed across her face.
The air began crackling with a simmering rage. Athenodora now stood before Aro, her eyes blazing with unbridled fury.
"How dare you!" she thundered, her voice echoing through the corridors. "How could you treat Y/N with such cruelty?"
Aro, remained impassive. His piercing gaze met Athenodora's, but his expression betrayed no emotion.
"I did what I had to do," he replied calmly.
Athenodora's anger surged. "You had no right! She is my friend, she is your mate and she is carrying your child!"
"She is also in danger! Aro said.
"Lies!" Athenodora spat. "You are simply afraid of her, I've seen you coward at the sight of her powers. Afraid that she will challenge your authority. You always been yielded by your glorified purpose leading the Volturi. Let alone not allowing any one in your relationships to hold any power of you! You destroyed her like you did Sulpicia!"
The statement created a surging rage within Aro "DO NOT BRING UP HER NAME!" then he held back his tongue and spoke calmly. "I am afraid, I am afraid for her life" Aro said.
"Afraid for her life? It seems she is now afraid for hers" Athenodora declared.
"You don't understand. I cannot tell you" Aro added as he began to step away.
"You are heartless," she said, her voice echoing through the corridor. "You would sacrifice your true mate for your own selfish ambitions."
"I would not sacrifice anyone without a reason," Aro replied.
Athenodora remained unconvinced. She then turned and walked away, her heart heavy with grief. Aro had failed Y/N. He had failed Athenodoras trust. She believed he could change for the better. Yet, he didn't.
As Athenodora disappeared into the darkness, Aro watched her go. He understood her anger, her despair. But he had no choice. Y/N's life was on the line. He had to be the monster to protect the one he loves.
He then made his way to his chamber. He opened the door and entered the cold, dark and empty room. That is when everything began to sink in. He knew it would be hard. He just did not believe he could mourn the loss as hard.
The familiar scent of incense filled his senses, but a poignant void gnawed at his soul. Y/N, his beloved companion and confidante, was gone. Her tainted scent of Lavender and Vanilla still filled the room.
A surge of melancholy washed over Aro as he gazed upon the empty space where she once sat. The memories of their shared laughter and intimate confidences filled his mind, leaving an aching void in his existence.
Unable to bear the silence, he reached for the crystal goblet that held blood wine that sat upon his study. The crimson liquid flowed into his mouth, its rich taste offering a fleeting respite from his sorrow.
As he drank, visions of Y/N danced before his eyes. He saw her radiant smile, her eyes sparkling with both love and wisdom. The pain of her absence became unbearable, and tears mingled with the blood wine on his lips.
Cup after cup, Aro emptied the goblet, each sip fueling his despair. The once-impregnable leader now crumbled under the weight of his loss. The walls of his chamber seemed to close in on him, suffocating him with memories and regret.
Through the haze of his intoxication, Aro whispered Y/N's name, a plea lost in the echoes of the empty castle. The blood wine could not quench his thirst for her presence, only amplify the agony of her absence.
As the night wore on, Aro succumbed to the depths of despair. His body collapsed to the floor, his mind consumed by the torment of a love that was forever lost.
He knew why he did it. He had to. But, he would still feel the loss.
Aro wept for the first time in a millennium.
Tears, translucent and iridescent, coursed down his porcelain cheeks, a testament to an anguish that had pierced his immortal heart. It was a pain so intense that it eclipsed the chilling void of eternity he had endured for countless years.
The cause of his despair was a revelation that had shattered his carefully constructed facade.
Aro's sorrow was not merely for the loss of his companion. It was a profound realization of the mortality that lurked within his eternal existence. He had always prided himself on his detachment, his ability to remain aloof from the petty concerns and emotions of mortals. But now, he was forced to confront the fragility of his own mind. He was mourning the loss of his mate, whom was a mortal.
As the tears continued to flow, Aro felt a strange sense of liberation. The centuries-long burden of maintaining his stoic demeanor had been lifted. He allowed himself to indulge in the raw agony of grief, a sensation that was terrifying.
It was the closest thing to mortality he could ever feel. He understood now that even the most ancient and powerful of creatures were not immune to the pain of loss. The tears that stained his cheeks were a reminder that even an immortal heart could bleed.
As the night wore on, Aro sat in his chamber, gazing out at the moonlit landscape. The stars seemed to mock him with their eternal brilliance, a cruel reminder of his own fleeting existence. He knew that the pain would eventually subside, but the memory of Y/N would forever linger in his heart.
And so, Aro, who was an immortal vampire, became a mortal in spirit. He had experienced the depth of despair and the fragility of love, emotions that had once been foreign to him. And though his tears would eventually dry, the scars they left would serve as a constant reminder of the profound humanity that could reside even in the undead.
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