We Will Not Be the HuntedIn which a Cullen makes a vow.
Carlisle came into the room in time to see his father, tall and furious, his face the mottled red that usually indicated a beating was in his child's near future, wrenching open their door. "Watcher,"
Father spat out with the same venom used when he spoke the word "Catholic."
The man in well-appointed attire (Mr. Wyndam, his late mother's brother, as he'd introduced himself) visiting Father didn't react to the vitriol in the other man's voice, instead sighing wearily and nodding politely to the elder Cullen. His words were clipped, his tone annoyed. "You can not deny your child his birthright, sir. He has a place with the Council of Watchers. He needs to be trained." He paused, and taking in the growing fury on the other man's face, pressed his lips into a thin line and stood. "A good day to you." He walked out the door with a slight limp.
After Father slammed the door shut and stared at it, fuming, he turned to Carlisle, a fire in his eyes that was wholly unfamiliar to the boy. "Son. Heed my words. I will train you. We will not be the hunted. We will be the hunters. The Devil's creatures will learn to fear the name Cullen. There is no need for these Watchers
." The elder Cullen tightly gripped his son's chin, tilting the boy's face up, forcing their eyes to meet. "You will not speak with Mr. Wyndam, he is a monarchist and wishes to take you away from me. Do you understand?"
Carlisle managed to answer with "Yes, sir." around the fierce hold of his father's hand on his chin. Internally, any hope he'd entertained of meeting his mother's people died.a/n: The Watcher's Council, in whatever incarnation, belongs to Joss Whedon. The Cullens belong to Stephanie Meyer. I'm just playing in their sandboxes; I make no claims of ownership.