"Stand like this...No, here," Fourteen year old William Herondale stepped up to Jem Carstairs and adjusted the slightly older boy's training stance by scooting his foot over a few inches."There." Will said, satisfied.
Jem glanced down at his feet. "Now what?"
Will stepped back, folded his arms and nodded toward the target at the other end of the training room. "Aim and throw."
The boys contrasted each other so; one dark as the night, and one as white as snow. Jem shook a lock of hair out of his eyes and did what Will had instructed. The knife slipped from his fingers at the precise moment, and sailed through the air. The hilt slammed onto the target which sent the small blade bouncing onto the floor several feet away. Jem groaned and, ignoring Will's proper placement, collapsed onto the floor on placed his head in his hands. Will retrieved the knife that Jem had thrown and trotted back up to the silver boy, his eyes narrowing.
"It just takes practice, that's all." He crouched down and sat next to him. "You'll get the hang of it,"
"No I won't." Jem spat at him.
Will was taken aback. Usually Jem was extremely positive, this sort of negative comment would have been much more natural coming out of his own mouth. "You will," He argued. The words slipped out easily and deeper than usual; his voice was beginning to change and it occasionally still startled him. Both he and Jem had gone through a growth spurt over the past few months. Charlotte had been complaining about buying them new trousers every week.
"I won't." Jem replied. "It's too damn hard, Will." Will raised his eyebrows; Jem rarely ever cursed, Will was beginning to wonder if he even knew how. "You can do this stuff, it's easy for you," He dropped his hands and looked at him. "I can't do any of it right, I either mess up, or run out of breath, or something," He paused. "You're very lucky," He said under his breath.
Will stayed quiet for a moment, processing. "I'm lucky," He bit his tongue. Could he really do this? Could he let down the guard, that he worked on building for over two years, come down? He started again, "I'm lucky to have you as my friend." He gauged Jem for a reaction.
The other boy was quiet until he muttered, "Thanks, Will."
Will opened his mouth again, "Jem?"
The other boy had rested his chin on his knee and grown quiet. "Hm?"
"I've been thinking,"
"Yes?"
Before he could stop himself, Will asked Jem the question that had been on his head for weeks. "Would you become my parabatai?"
Jem was silent in response. After a few moments Will wondered if he'd even heard him. Finally, Jem looked at him.
"Why would you ever ask me?" His grey eyes narrowed.
Will shrugged. This is it. This will be my greatest sin. "Because you're my best friend, Jem."
"What does that matter?" He asked. "Will, you need to ask someone stronger,"
"Stronger?" Will cut him off. "You wake every day, not knowing if it will be your last. Yet you continue to train, and learn, and put up with Henry's antics better than any of us. You don't get smart, you," He paused and gained his breath "know me. And you have the largest heart I've ever met. If that doesn't show your strength, then I don't know what does, James." This is the first time he'd ever used Jem's full first name.
Jem's eyes had shifted down to his scuffed training boots. "It doesn't matter," He muttered again.
"I think it does."
"But how can I protect you?" Jem looked Will in the eye. "In the Codex, it tells that part of the job of a parabatai is protecting your partner in a fight. Will, I can barely do that for myself,"
Will rolled his eyes. "Just watch my back, you know Charlotte always complains that I never do that. I'll protect the both of us."
"I don't know..." Jem bit his lip.
"I do." Will stood. "Now come on,"
"WILLIAM HERONDALE." Jessamine Lovelace stomped into the training room, blond curls bouncing, eyes narrowed in anger. "You messed with my dolls! How dare you!" Her hands set on her hips as she stared him down.
"Jessie," Will feigned reproach and placed his hand over his heart. "Why ever do you believe that I am the one who dunked your dolls in spoiled milk?"
"Oh," The young girl almost shook with anger. "Why must you be so incorrigible?"
"Careful with your fancy words, darling, we are but simple field mice here," He gestured to himself and Jem still on the floor, sarcasm practically dripping off of his tongue.
Jessamine shot him a look, then fled the room, yelling for Charlotte.
Will grinned shortly, then looked back at Jem who was shaking his head, a small smile hidden on his lips.
"Why must you be so horrid to her?"
Will shrugged. "I get bored."
Jem stood and brushed the front of his pants off. His face grew serious then. "Do you still mean what you asked me?"
"Of course I do," He responded without hesitation.
Jem scratched his neck, thinking. "I always wish that you won't risk yourself, in fighting and life. So I suppose that I could be there to keep you from doing this." He looked at Will. "Besides, if I don't accept, I suppose you'll just go to Hyde Park with a poultry pie and wait for the ducks to attack," He grinned.
Will couldn't help the smile that grew on his slowly hardening face. "See, I told you that you know me," He placed the knife in Jem's cool hand. "Now, stand like this..."