The Moon and the Sun

A/N: I decided to try and write this story because there aren't many Jacob/Bella periodfics out there…in fact, I didn't find any when I was scrolling through the archive. So hopefully I will be the first Fanfiction author to have made one that (hopefully!) gets popular with you guys. I mean, I've gotten recommendations for publishing my book before when I write this kind of stuff, so I gotta be good, right? :)

Summary: [AU/AH, OOC, Periodfic] Lady Isabella of the Kingdom of Forks is to be engaged to the wealthy young nobleman Lord Edward Cullen. Her life is planned perfectly. But when she saves the lowly son of a blacksmith from nearly being whipped to death, she second-guesses her happiness with her future husband. How did the moon manage to fall in love with the sun? Bella/Jacob, Bella/Edward

Sword Information from this site: essays/How_Were_Swords_

Name Modifications

(if a name is not here, that means it has not been changed, or the character hasn't come up yet.)

Isabella: Bella (duh)

Angelica: Angela (and Benjamin is obviously Angela's "Ben" in the books)

Charles: Charlie

Emery: Emmett

Burl: Billy

Jezebel: Jessica

Chapter 1: Blacksmiths

"Lord Edward will arrive momentarily, milady," said the maidservant. Isabella sucked in a deep breath as Angelica tightened the strings on her corset. She tied them in a knot at the her lower back and scurried to the wardrobe to fetch her dress.

"We must make sure that I am presentable," Isabella fussed. "Mother says I must impress Lord Edward. She tells me that he is the most suitable match for me, and that I shall inherit a great deal of money if he chooses me to be his wife."

"Oh yes, milady." Angelica came back with the dark blue dress and helped her lady into the dress. "You will fall in love…like I had once."

Isabella looked at herself in the mirror, tracing the outline of her jawbone through her smooth skin. It was morning, and the sunlight shone through the window. "And what ever happened to your lover, Angelica?"

Angelica's face went dim as she buttoned the back of Lady Isabella's dress. "My lover?" she laughed humorlessly. Sniffling, she sat her mistress down in front of the mirror and began to comb her hair. "He died. A long, long time ago."

Isabella bit her tongue and let Angelica sweep her hair up into a twist on top of her head. "Angelica…" she murmured softly. "Might I ask the cause of death?"

"Whipped." Angelica held some pins in her mouth, twisting more strands of Isabella's chestnut hair on top of her head. "I pray you never see a man whipped, milady. I had to watch—they forced me."

"Who forced you?" Isabella asked.

"The guards did. Benjamin was only standing up for me, after one of the foul, pitiful guards shamed my honor. I had to drag him home that night, and he died the next week from infection." Angelica finished Isabella's hair and sighed. "If I could go back to that day where my Benjamin was whipped, I would have thrown myself in harm's way to save his pour soul."

Isabella was about to ask another question when there came a knock on the door. "'Sis," her brother Emery strode in and stood by her side. "Lord Edward has arrived."

Standing and leaving Angelica to her other household duties, she linked arms with Emery and strode out of the room. "Brother, did you happen to see him?"

"Lord Edward, you mean?"

Isabella nodded her head vigorously in agreement. "Yes. Is he ugly? Cruel?"

Emery pinched his lips together, trying to remember. "No. He is fair, my sweet sister. Quite handsome, tall, lean…and proper."

"Proper." She groaned the word.

"Remember to use your wit and your charm on this man, Isabella." Emery told her, kissing his younger sister's cheek. "Father speaks of a marriage with Lord Edward in the future."

Marriage was the one thing that made her uneasy about courting a gentleman. Her father always wanted to marry her off to a rich man like he had with her other sisters Alice and Jezebel. Isabella was the last daughter that her father had not bartered off like a golden calf. It seemed it was about to change.

Emery led her around the corner and pushed open the doors that lead to the gardens. "He is over there. You must go to him—I must stay here."

She nodded and brushed off her dress. Isabella spotted him by a rose bush, sniffing one of the blood red flowers that he'd plucked off. He turned as he heard her footsteps draw close to him and smiled.

Lord Edward was not ugly at all. He had golden brown hair with shimmering honey colored eyes and a smile that would melt any young woman's heart. He was the son of Lord Carlisle, one of King Aro's most loyal and trusted subjects. Edward's mother Esme was one of Queen Sulpicia's ladies in waiting.

Edward took Isabella's hand and kissed it graciously. "Lady Isabella," he spoke with his sing-song voice. It was music to her ears. She curtseyed and batted her eyelashes. "Perhaps a ride to the village will allow us to get comfortable with each other, yes?"


"You are very beautiful," he whispered. Isabella blushed a deep color of red. "Have you had many suitors?"

She shook her head meekly. "No. There was no one else."

"I am the only?"

"Yes, Lord Edward, you are the only."

The carriage pulled up near the side of the rode. The rider opened the door and Edward stepped out first. The marketplace was bustling with life. Isabella took Edward's outstretched hand and stepped on the cobblestone.

She watched as the carriage pulled away and left her alone with the strange man that trying for her hand in marriage. He pulled her to a jewelry bazaar, the woman behind the wooden counter decorated head to toe in beautiful, sparkling stones.

He fetched a pouch of gold coins from his pocket and showed one to the old woman. Her eyes popped open as she took the coin and shoved it in her pocket with greed and gold lust. "Take anything you like," she crooned to Isabella, grinning from ear to ear. The younger woman cringed at the sight of rotting yellow teeth.

"You heard her," Lord Edward said with the slight quirk of his lips. "Anything you like." He took her hand and kissed it softly. Isabella nearly fainted—she regained her self and looked upon the table.

She spotted a sapphire ring out of the corner and instinctively she turned to see it better. She grabbed it and held it close to her breast. "It's lovely," she whispered. Lord Edward nodded at the old woman and let her have the ring.

"It's a fine counterpart for your dress," he commented. She slipped the ring on her finger and admired it in the sunlight.

"Thank you." Isabella blushed. Never had a man used a gold coin to buy her anything…let alone a gorgeous sapphire ring.

"A beautiful stone for a beautiful woman," he murmured. Isabella blushed a deeper shade of red and chewed her lip. Could she see this man as her future husband?

"I like to think of a sapphire as a…a moonstone. I believe the moon is very captivating." She told him.

He nodded, listening. "Interesting. Astronomy interests you?"

"Well, it's not exactly astronomy, it's just—"

"I should buy a new sword," he cut her off abruptly, spying the local blacksmith's workplace. He patted the coins resting in his velvet pocket. "Come inside with me and help me choose one. It's best for me to be armed while I am with you."

He walked into the shop. Swords hung from about every place in the room. A short man walked into the room with another sword and laid it on a wooden display table. She could see the water droplets steaming off of the new sword.

Edward went to talk to the man about buying a new sword while Isabella looked around the shop with interest. One handle of the sword captivated her—it was bejeweled and the handle was covered in gold.

She went to take a closer look at it. The stones were blue, just like her ring and her dress. She pondered over the thought that if she were a man, she'd wield that very sword. She touched the smooth metal of the flat side of the blade, feeling its coldness beneath her fingertips.

"Do you like that one?" a voice asked. Isabella yanked her hand away as a young man came into her view.

"What?" she asked him, rubbing her fingertips. The young man had copper skin and the blackest hair she'd ever seen. He smiled at her as he came closer, his eyes kind and his smile welcoming.

"Do you like the sword?" he repeated.

She looked back to the sword that she was admiring and vigorously nodded her head, the beads in her hair clacking against one another. "It is beautiful."

The young man took the sword down from the wall and showed it to her. "I made this one myself. Took me two weeks of hard work, it did."

Her eyes glided over the blade admiringly. "You are the blacksmith?"

He pursed his lips. "That's Burl...but I make swords as well."

"Is Burl your mentor?" she asked him.

He shook his head. "No, he is my father." He took her hand kissed her skin softly. "I am Jacob Black, son of the blacksmith. And you are…?"

"Lady Isabella Swan," she replied. Jacob's eyes widened and he stood a little straighter. She dropped her hand at her side and grasped her skirts, the large sapphire ring attracting his attention.

He smiled and shook his head. "My apologies, Lady Isabella. I did not know. You are royalty then?"

Isabella laughed. "No. My father was one of King Aro's best knights in his younger years. But now that he has retired from his duties as a knight, King Aro has named him one of his most trusted and loyal subjects in his court of men. I…I am just his daughter."

"You look like royalty," he commented, placing the sword back onto the shelf. "With your brilliant ring and extravagant dress, nothing else would lead me to believe you were just the daughter of one of the King's most loyal subjects. I would kill to be just the son of one of the King's most loyal subjects."

She tried to remain proper and keep in the obnoxious giggle that was begging to escape her lips. She glanced over at Edward, who was still observing the swords. Jacob's father, the blacksmith, was trying to sell him on a sword with a golden handle.

"Is that your lover?" he asked with curiosity, following Isabella's line of gaze. He inspected the tall, lean man with fancy clothes and a sack filled to the brim with shimmering golden coins that would attract any man like flies and honey. Jacob grit his teeth at the sight—rich. Horrid rich and wealthy men that felt that they were obliged to spit on his title as blacksmith and drag their dirt over his name.

She shook her head. "No. He is a suitor."

"Are you enjoying his company?" Jacob asked. Isabella blinked at him, surprised at the bluntness of his words. "As I had observed, he does not seem to take your interest."

"I cannot answer that," she snapped, turning away with a blush. She fingered her dress nervously, feeling him brush up behind her. He stood before her and hooked his finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him.

Jacob smiled brightly, like a ray of sun in her eyes. She pulled away quickly, but it didn't seem to faze him at all. "Then you do not find him interesting?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

She touched the sapphire ring on her finger and adverted her eyes. Jacob's words were still echoing in her mind. So far, all Edward had done for her was buy her a ring and drag her from shop to shop. She did not quite know him as well as she'd have liked to in the day's time.

"Isabella?" he asked. She looked over at him with interest. "Would you like to see how swords are made?" He could tell she was a little jaded as her suitor mindlessly paid no attention to her at all.

"Yes…perhaps a little tour would take some time off of my hands." And with that, she followed him back into the crafting room. In the corner there stood a hot coal furnace fueled by bellows.

Jacob grinned and slipped on his gloves. She watched him with interest as he unbuttoned his tunic, a flash of copper skin lingering before her eyes. "Alright, milady. The real sweat comes when you ready yourself to work this metal," he pointed to the pot of ore in the other corner. "Into a blade. I have to shape and mix metals of different known qualities, some softer for the core of the sword or sides of the blade. You must do this carefully, for the forging of a blade can be sometimes quite tricky."

He pulled out a sword that he'd been previously working on and showed it to her. "I must layer harder metal over the softer metal so that the blade can flex under any sudden impact, but still resist deformation." Jacob grabbed one of the metal hammers from the table and presented it to her before he laid the sword down on an anvil and pounded it down upon it. It was loud, and Isabella was unprepared for the shock of it all. She jumped a little.

After shaping the sword a little more, Jacob transferred the sword back to the hot coal furnace. "I need the right color of heat to keep the metal at just the right malleability. I'd say a little bit of orange and lots of red is good."

He removed the sword from the hot coal furnace. Isabella watched as he laid it back on the anvil and pounded it again with the hammer while it was red-hot. She could see that it was shaping well. He transported the sword from the anvil to the furnace, constantly re-heating and re-shaping.

He wiped the sweat off of his forehead. "We're far from finished," he commented. "You've got to do some heat treatment to give the sword its strength and durability. Then there's the handle and what design you're going to give it…"

"That is quite a lot of work," she replied with widened eyes. Jacob grinned and quenched the hot sword in a tub of water. She watched as it sizzled and smoke rose up from the air.

"It's all worth it though," he told her, licking his lips. He was muscular and his body was attractive—she suspected that it was from hours of laboring on the block of hot metal. Overall, he was a beautiful man and she didn't feel shamed to say it. Edward was not very muscular due to his lack of manual labor. He ordered servants to do his work for him. For some reason she admired this man for that trait.

"Isabella?" Lord Edward's voice could be heard from the other room. She picked up her skirts and followed the voice. She saw him waiting for her with the blacksmith. She joined him by his side and gave him a sweet smile. "Where were you?"

Jacob waltzed out of the back room, wiping his dirty hands on a wet rag. "With me," he replied matter-of-factly. "I showed her how I made swords since she showed a particular interest in one that I made."

"Jacob!" hissed Burl. "I told you before that the crafting room was private."

Isabella shamefully lowered her eyes to the ground as Lord Edward grumbled next to her. She failed her father. She would never be married to Lord Edward now.

"I thought I'd entertain her, since her suitor wasn't doing much for her." Jacob grinned in a cocky sort of way. He knew he was testing his limits, but he didn't care. He chuckled to himself, reminiscing about the time where he spit on a noble's shoes.

When Edward's face flamed bright red, Isabella felt like she was going to faint. Who was this lowly blacksmith to try and come to blows with a noble?

Though what he says is exact, it is discourteous nonetheless. Bella thought to herself.

Edward turned on his heel and dragged Isabella along with him. "You shouldn't have gone with him," he hissed to her on the way out the door.

In the background she heard Burl scolding his son. "Did you not think, or are you merely a fool? He could have killed you!"


"You silly little girl," Renee's face turned bright red. "Why would you go into a crafting room alone with the son of a blacksmith? How improper!"

"I was not thinking," Isabella replied, tears sparkling at her eyes.

"The scandal, Isabella. Edward would have been the perfect husband for you to have, but you have now ruined it by toying with a commoner!" Renee stormed around the room.

"All he did was show me how to create a sword," she protested. "It was nothing scandalous at all!"

"I do not know if you are telling the truth. He does not know!" Renee gripped her child's shoulders. "And the rudeness, and the bluntness that man showed Lord Edward was simply ridiculous. What will your father say?"

"Mother please," Isabella quietly sobbed. "I will try again, I promise!"

"Hold your tears, daughter." Renee approached her youngest daughter and wrapped her in her arms. "You will try again later. And let us pray to God that Lord Edward shall take you to be his wife."

Though her mother's concern was on Lord Edward, Isabella's mind was elsewhere. Jacob. He was so kind to her…but she had to push these feelings away. They weren't right.


Thanks for reading! I am pretty unsure about this story, so if you want me to continue I'll need some encouragement. I have many more tricks up my sleeves (we haven't even gotten to the good part yet), so please review and tell me if you'd be interested in reading more of this.

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