"Lucian?"
He turned on his side to look at her, standing in the doorway, her witchlight in her hand. "Jocelyn."
She hesitated, looking over her shoulder. Girls were strictly not allowed in the boys wing, just as the boys were not allowed in theirs. "Can I come in?"
"Sure." He sat up and moved over, making room on the bed for her. She came and sat down next to him, her eyes lingering on the white scar on his wrist. The twining black rune that had burned so painfully that afternoon had faded already. She touched it lightly with two fingers and looked over at him with wide green eyes.
"You're trembling. It doesn't still hurt?"
He shrugged. "It doesn't hurt."
"Are you lying to me?"
He shrugged again. "I don't know. I was having a nightmare, so everything sort of hurts, in a way."
Her fingers stroked his wrist gently, so gently. "Oh Lucian..."
He forced a smile. "It's fine really."
And it was, mostly. Now that she was here, and his dream was proved only that, a dream. He had dreamt of Jocelyn, marks spidering across her body like twining vines, consuming her as she screamed and screamed. And he had stood by, unable to move as she burst into flames, burning to a charred skeleton before his eyes. Just the memory of it was enough to make him shudder.
"Lucian." Her hand moved from his wrist to his shoulder, squeezing it in comfort. "Do you want to tell me about it?"
He shook his head. That was the last thing he wanted. Instead, he looked up at her, trying to keep his lips from trembling. "Do you think I'll ever be a Shadowhunter, Jocelyn?"
Her eyes widened. "Of course. Of course you will."
"And what kind of Shadowhunter?" he demanded bitterly. "One who can't bare Marks, can't handle weapons, can't-was
"It's in your blood," she said simply. "You will learn, I know you will."
His hand went to hers on his shoulder, gripping her wrist. "And if I don't? By the Angel, Jocelyn, what if I don't?"
A short pause. Then: "Do you mean... you wouldn't leave the Clave... would you?"
He said nothing.
He watched her eyes as they filled with tears. "Oh Lucian." She wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug. "Give it time, please? Just give it time, I'm sure it'll work out."
"Jocelyn." He unlaced her arms from his shoulders and held her hands in his. "If I did, if I... if I left the Clave. Would you still be my friend?"
She hesitated. "The law says I couldn't be."
His hands tightened on hers. "That's not an answer."
She took a sharp breath, and then met his eyes steadily, no doubt in them at all. "Yes. I will be your friend. No matter what."
"No matter what?" he whispered. "You promise?"
Her hands tightened on his. "I promise. Where ever your life goes, you will always be part of me."
They held each other for a moment longer, until he smiled, a faint and slightly sad smile. "Then I'll give it time." For you. Only for you. He let her go and lay down, trying to convey with his eyes that his heart was just a little bit lighter. "You should go now. We have training in the morning."
She stroked his hair back from his forehead, her eyes sad. "I suppose we do. Sleep well, Lucian. I'll see you in the morning."
She got up and left and shut the door behind her, taking the light with her. Still, he lay in the darkness for a long time, his thoughts turning like the wheels of some great and complicated clock. If leaving the Clave did not mean leaving Jocelyn, why shouldn't he? Why not, when it was clear he would never be a Shadowhunter, never fit in. Surely it would be easier to be a mundane than this. But she had asked him to give it time, and this, he would do. Even at ten years old, he knew he would do anything Jocelyn Fairchild asked of him.