** Lame excuse about not writing more **
** Welcome back guys! I'm back and so is Valentine! (And there's italics! Yaaaay! ) **
The rest of Christmas break flew past in a blur. Luke, although he had initially not wanted to take part in Jocelyn's revenge plan, had caved when she told him (in perhaps excessive detail) exactly what Tokin had done to her and what she suspected he had done to others. Now that he had seen Tokin's contraband with his own eyes, he seemed to hold no regrets. On the other hand, Madeline seemed sorry to see Tokin go. It wasn't because she felt sorry for him, Madeline had told her after she asked, but now she didn't have anyone to take her anger out on.
The rest of the school seemed to have mixed feelings. While no one seemed to have liked Tokin very much, no one could deny that he had been the one-stop shop to buy anything that happened to be illicit. Rather than grief or pain, much of the school simply found his expulsion to be an incredible inconvenience.
"Imagine if people only cared about you because you performed illegal services," Jocelyn had said to Luke one day during lunch, after they had heard a passing group of students complaining that they would have to go into town themselves to buy more drugs.
"Why do you think I keep you around?" Luke had said.
She had punched him in the shoulder.
Of course, no one in the school aside from herself, Luke, Madeline, and Trueblood knew that Tokin had actually been set up. If they did, she was certain that it would be the subject of every conversation during the evening meal. Well, Valentine knew, she supposed, he just didn't know how. That was, in fact, the very first thing he asked her upon seeing her the first day back from break. It was second period and Jocelyn has just finished her cross fit training class when she walked into Advanced Close Combat and noticed him standing and talking to Trueblood. Her pulse rose a few notches before she beat it back down into submission.
She couldn't get involved with Valentine Morgenstern, she reminded herself. Not only was he older but he was popular among the school. The only thing she was known for was throwing the initiation game.
"Welcome back to Advanced Close Combat," Trueblood announced, as the bell rung and the students settled into their seats. He gave Jocelyn a glance. "Or for some of you, just welcome. Take any seat Fairchild."
She chose the seat closest to the door, sitting next to some sophomore or junior she didn't know. She avoided Valentine's glance while Trueblood dug into a review of the last semester. It was too weird; she wasn't sure how she felt about him yet.
"As you all know," he said, "This class is among the most advanced combat courses you will take at the Academy. You won't feel your skills tested so harshly or so competitively until you join the ShadowHunters Core and enlist as a field officer."
It was always when you joined the ShadowHunters Core, not if, Jocelyn noted vaguely. She would hate to be that person that couldn't, or worse, wouldn't, enlist.
"This semester we're not going to switch between weapons anymore," Trueblood continued. "I want you to all choose a weapon of preference and stick with that weapon until finals. You might be thinking about choosing a spear or mace for the extended length, but keep in mind that a skilled opponent with a short reach can easily go toe-to-toe with an opponent who has no particular affinity for his or her weapon."
Jocelyn could feel her blade pressing against her stomach. She would have no trouble deciding which weapon she would fight with.
There was a sliding sound behind her and Jocelyn knew that Valentine had changed seats to sit behind her. She tried to ignore him and focus on Trueblood's class introduction, but it was proving futile. A piece of paper nicked her ear. Jocelyn glanced down. The paper looked as though it had been torn out of a notebook and hastily crumpled, with familiar letters scrawling across the inside. Jocelyn was not doing this, she was not passing notes with Valentine Morgenstern in Trueblood's hardest class. So she ignored the paper.
But less than two minutes later, another piece of paper hit her on the ear.
"Stop," Jocelyn muttered, as quietly as possible.
Valentine was saved responding by Trueblood's invitation for their class to move outside onto the South Lawn for practice.
"What was so important to say that you couldn't wait five minutes?" Jocelyn asked, as they left the class and began the trek across the grounds. It felt strange to be talking to Valentine in such a familiar way… strange… but good.
"This," Valentine said, holding up the note. There were only two words on it: Where's Tokin?
"He's gone," Jocelyn said quietly. Valentine rose an eyebrow, but there were students close enough to hear their conversation and he dropped the subject after seeing her expression.
"You're going to tell me later," Valentine said quietly. Jocelyn nodded, feeling her gut twist.
Trueblood lead them onto the grass. This class was the smallest she had ever had, at just eight. The students all looked very much the same: strong, fast, and deadly. Jocelyn could only hope she gave off the same aura. Trueblood set them into pairs right off the bat and had one defend and the other attack, but the defender had to fight with one arm behind their back, to "simulate a real war situation" Trueblood had explained.
"Well," Valentine said, stretching his shoulders, "do you want to defend or attack?"
"Sorry?"
"We're partners, Fairchild, do you want to defend or attack?"
For some reason Jocelyn blushed. It might have been because Valentine had called her by her surname, which he had abandoned last week, or because she hadn't missed the few interested glances that were thrown that way as the other students noticed Valentine's quick pairing.
"Who do you usually pair with?" Jocelyn asked, wondering which one of the surrounding students he had ditched for her.
"Doesn't matter. For the last time - attack or defend?"
"Attack," Jocelyn said, drawing her knife. Valentine smirked.
"I thought so," he said. He drew a handle out of his pocket and whispered something to it that Jocelyn didn't catch. The blade materialized from thin air, glowing in the bright light of the morning sun. It was long, much longer than her knife, nearly the length or her leg. But it was heavier, Jocelyn reasoned. It would move slower. And if she managed to get inside, he wouldn't have the space necessarily to deal any harmful blows. Distance was her enemy in this situation.
Neither of the fighters said anything as they settled into ready positions. Jocelyn was light on her feet, her muscles warm and ready. She felt good; strong. Across from her, Valentine was crouched like a panther. He twirled his sword in his hand with ease and took tiny steps back and forward - testing her footwork. Two could play that game - Jocelyn took a quick stride forward - Valentine shuffled back, anticipating the inside attack. He already knew exactly what she was thinking, and she knew what he was thinking.
"Scared?" Jocelyn taunted.
"More like bored," Valentine said back.
His shirt was pulled tight across his arms, revealing muscles and markings. Jocelyn's eyes continued to drift upward, past his collarbone and flawless skin, all the way to his eyes, which were hardened with experience and filled with the thrill of a fight. In the second that their eyes connected, Valentine struck. She was supposed to be attacking, but suddenly that didn't matter.
Jocelyn lept back, the blade whistling past her nose. Adrenaline filed her as she realized these weren't practice blades - this was as real as any fight would get. As soon as the first swing had passed, the second was already in motion, twisting around to slice her arm off. She blocked it with her blade - the ring vibrated through the air - drop, now forward - she had to get inside. Valentine was backing up, trying to get distance in between them - but Jocelyn was faster and already had momentum - Valentine was off balance with his left arm behind his back. Strike towards the ribs - blocked - move to the other side but feint this time - another block. Jocelyn began into a flurry of jabs and slashes, trying to cover more area than Valentine could cover with his sword while keeping him engaged enough to prevent his retreat. Sweat was growing on both of their brows as the minutes dragged on. Despite her good start, Jocelyn was the first to make a mistake. She had put her attacking arm too far forward, Valentine has simply pushed it to the side, not only giving him momentum forward but also leaving her defenseless. His sword came towards her stomach and Jocelyn flinched, suddenly reminded of the day where her own knife has come twirling towards her and embedded in her shoulder. But at the last second Valentine's hand twisted, the sword went flashing by her stomach and his fist hit home instead, knocking all the air out of her lungs and causing her to double over.
He had not softened his hit.
"Dead," Valentine said, breathlessly.
"At least you didn't stab me that time," Jocelyn shot back, gasping for breath.
Despite the exchange, Jocelyn felt a smile growing on her face. She was in her element; this was her calling, and she was pursuing it with none other than Valentine himself.
"I'm at a disadvantage," Jocelyn continued, finally getting air again.
"How so?"
"Sometimes your body is… distracting."
For some reason this amused Valentine and a huge grin split over his face.
"Believe me I say this," he said. "You are far more distracting to me than I am to you," and he grinned again, his eyes traveling from her eyes, to her feet and back up to her eyes. The glance had been intimate and thirsty, but it didn't bother Jocelyn. If anything, it only caused the heat building in her chest to grow.
"I might have to capitalize on that someday if I ever want to win," Jocelyn said.
"For your sake and mine," Valentine replied, "I hope so."
And then he winked.
Jocelyn lept forward again. Strike - hit - back - now parry! He was too good. She would never win conventionally. He was stronger and had more stamina, she would have to be clever if she wanted to get an edge. Jocelyn watched for openings carefully. Valentine was off balance with his arm behind his back, her first instinct was to strike there. But he knew that, Jocelyn thought, backing away and circling slowly. He expected her to go for his weakness. What could she do to surprise him?
The only thing she could think of would be to go for his strong point, the area where no one was supposed to attack; the hands.
As soon as she made this conclusion, Jocelyn struck. She didn't have the time to think it through. Momentarily thrown off, Valentine struggled to bring his blade up to parry. Without stopping, Jocelyn grabbed his wrist, ignoring his left arm which was coming around to defend himself out of instinct even though it wasn't supposed to, and she slashed him across the chest.
She had managed to pull away at the last second, so the cut was narrow and shallow, and probably wouldn't even scar, but it was still the first time she had drawn blood from him.
Valentine took a step back, lowering his sword arm and examining the slit in his shirt.
"You cut me, Fairchild."
Jocelyn didn't know what to say. Sorry? That wasn't what either of them wanted to hear. Instead she grinned.
"Do you yield?" She asked.
"Not a chance."
Then they switched roles, each eyeing the other, trying to discover a weakness and pinpoint strengths, each lost in the dance that was the other. In the heat of the battle, the subject of Tokin went forgotten.
Not that she really cared, Jocelyn thought, making it to her next class, entirely exhausted and sporting several shallow cuts. Tokin was in the past. The only place she was looking was the future.
Madeline woke her the next morning by banging on her dorm room door.
"Jocelyn!" She shouted. "Get up, it's already six!"
Jocelyn rolled over, groaning. Everything hurt from yesterday's combat session. She and Valentine had fought blindfolded with dulled weapons and there had ended up being a lot more punching and tackling than swordplay.
"Jocelyn! If you aren't out here in ten minutes, I'm telling Luke about you and Valentine!"
Jocelyn's eyes snapped open. She wouldn't. Luke and Valentine had been paired as parabati only a few days earlier. Luke was fiercely protective of his new brother and wouldn't approve of… well… whatever she and Valentine were. Now that she thought about, Madeline didn't approve either.
The threat was substantial enough to get Jocelyn out of bed and into her armor. Madeline was waiting for her in the hallway.
"Today's the day," Madeline said.
Jocelyn nodded. Today they would be paired as parabati. They weren't sure what to expect of the ceremony since Luke and Valentine had been particularly tight lipped.
"Think it'll hurt?"
"Nah."
In truth, she wasn't sure. No one was. The ceremony was a secret. There weren't' very many people who chose a parabati. It was something you had to want.
They had been excused for all classes that day even though the actual pairing was only supposed to take a few hours. There was a quiet, nervous breakfast, and the two headed towards the front lawn. They would have to take the parabati vows in front of the council. The trip to the city was uneventful; Trueblood accompanied them there. Jocelyn was filled with both anticipation and also what she assumed was nervousness. It was pushed out of her mind when they arrived at the Council Hall and Trueblood led them down the step into a basement.
"I guess they ran out of budget for lights," Madeline said, amused, squinting through the gloom.
"Probably part of the experience," Jocelyn replied. She thought she could see a few lights hanging over head that weren't turned on.
The two entered a well lit room that contrasted sharply with the outside hallways. There was a large table in the center of the room, covered in what looked like blueprints, and two chairs next to it. Other than Trueblood, the only other person in the room was a wide man whose beard stretched down to his chest. Jocelyn has never seen him before.
"This is Ragnor," Trueblood explained, after they had entered. "He'll be designing your rune today."
"Designing?" Madeline asked. "I thought it was the friendship rune."
"It is. But in addition to that rune, another is often inscribed below or around it, to strengthen the effect."
Ragnor waved them over to his blueprints.
"This is a bit of a long process," Ragnor explained. He had a strange accent, but Jocelyn couldn't place it. "It's important to find a design the fits both parabati just as it is important to define the differences so they don't become inseparable."
He pointed to some of the designs. Jocelyn scanned over them. The designs weren't runes exactly, but they the essence of runes etched into them. The lines flowed from one meaning into another. While they didn't have the same concrete meaning that many other runes had, Jocelyn could get a general sense of the different qualities that defined the person that that marking had been designed for. Kindness, Peace, Clarity, Protection.
She didn't expect to see many of those qualities in her own.
"We're going to be asking you to draw the runes you believe that your pair represents, so take this seriously," Trueblood added. "If you define yourself incorrectly there could be adverse effects in the future."
Ragnor handed them each a stele and Jocelyn and Madeline sat down at the table across from each other. Jocelyn had no difficulty drawing runes for Madeline. She had spent over half a year wither her best friend.
The minutes ticked on. So engaged was Jocelyn in her work, that when Trueblood shook her out of her trance to see what she had done, several hours had already passed. Ragnor took the sheets of paper from both of them and held them up to the light.
"Oh yes," he said. "There's plenty to work with here. You two should go take your vows while I merge these."
Trueblood lead them back upstairs and into the giant hall that was the Council room. Just like the Academy, much of it was covered in white marble.
"Jocelyn Fairchild and Madeline Bellefleur," Trueblood announced. "Here to become sisters as Parabati."
There were only two members on the stand. The rest of the giant room was empty. Jocelyn supposed that was to be expected. After all, the entire Council couldn't gather for every single pairing.
Trueblood handed each of them a stele without a word and gestured for them to step forward. Jocelyn swallowed. Her throat suddenly felt parched. She knew the required words and knew that she could say them but the thought of doing so in front of strangers was suddenly intimidating.
One of the council members, a man who had to be reaching his forties, gave her a quick smile for reassurance. Jocelyn took a deep breath. She turned to Madeline, who looked as nervous as she felt. Madeline held out her forearm.
"Entreat me not to leave thee," Jocelyn said, her voice barely a whisper. "Or return from following after thee - for whither thou goest, I will go." Her voice rose in strength. Jocelyn dug the tip of the stele in Madeline's arm. Madeline winced."And where thou lodgest, I will lodge." She drew the strong line, straight down her bicep. "Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God." Now for the swirling marks at the bottom. "Where thou diest, will I die, and there I will be buried." She turned the stele, flowing into thinner lines at the top - just one more line. "The Angel do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me."
Jocelyn finished the rune. Madeline gave out a long breath, but nothing happened as Jocelyn watched. She had expected it to glow or something.
"Your turn," Madeline said, raising her rune.
Jocelyn held out her left arm, the same arm that had been pierced by her knife. Madeline repeated the same words, and after a short burning sensation, Jocelyn looked down to see an identical mark drawn upon her upper bicep.
The man who had given Jocelyn the smile nodded.
"Ragnor will complete the ceremony," he said. Ragnor stepped out from behind them - Jocelyn jumped, she hadn't even realized he was there - and brought up his own, wickedly long stele. He was silent as he added on a few short lines to each of their runes. When he finished, Jocelyn opened her mouth to say her thanks, but before she could a tingling sensation darted up her spine and filled her head with static. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling, but it was strange. After a few seconds, it dispersed, and she was left feeling as though she had just slept a sloid ten hours.
"Jocelyn Fairchild and Madeline Bellefleur, you are now comrades for life. Where one goes, so does the other. What one fights for, so will you both. I don't ever want to see you again, because if that happens it means you are getting your marks stripped. I don't suppose I'll ever have to, will I?"
"No, sir," they said.
"Good. Now get back to school."
Jocelyn inclined her head in a short gesture of respect and turned around to find Trueblood. He was smiling.
"I've seen seven pairing's," he said. "And they are all as spectacular as the last."
"Are you parabati?" Jocelyn asked, on a whim.
"No," Trueblood replied. "I'm afraid it was never for me. Besides, once you turn eighteen, it's too late. The oaths can no longer be sworn."
Jocelyn almost asked him how old he was but she figured one intrusive question was more than enough for the day. She and Madeline followed Trueblood out of the Council hall and were mostly silent during the walk back. Interestingly enough, Madeline discovered that she could intercept a pebble Jocelyn was bouncing on her foot without looking. One of the many perks of being parabati, they agreed. Other than have a completely loyal friend, of course.
In fact, Jocelyn was just thinking about her next letter to her mother (and how excited she would be to find her daughter had sworn the oaths just as she had) that when Luke first came to her, she didn't catch his words.
"Sorry, what?" Jocelyn asked, inserting her key into her dorm door.
"It's Valentine," Luke said. Jocelyn spun around. His face was red and his brown hair tossed in front of his eyes. Had he ran all the way up here? "You had better come quickly."
Jocelyn left her door swinging open and pounded behind Luke down the hairs towards the upperclassman dorms. Had he been hurt? Surely not, he was such an excellent athlete… betrayed then? But by whom? What could possibly be important enough for Luke to get her? And how had he even known to get her? Had Valentine told him about them?
So many questions were running through her head that Jocelyn nearly tripped crossing the doorway into his room. The first thing she noticed was shattered glass, laying everywhere around the room. It looked as though a crystal chandelier had fallen from the sky and broken into pieces everywhere. Other students, all of them friends of Valentine, were standing around the room, shell-shocked. Then she heard the noises.
It sounded like… well…. sobbing actually. The sound was pitiful and weak. It made Jocelyn's center go cold when she heard it, not from disgust but from fear. The sounds were coming from Valentine's room, presumably from Valentine, and the thought of something terrible enough to cause him to cry was enough to lock her knees into place.
"What's going on?" Jocelyn hissed, still frozen in place.
Luke was running his hand through his hair. He looked as though he were about to break down.
"He broke the vase." Luke croaked. "Just threw it against the wall and broke it."
Jocelyn pushed two kids out of the way of the door and slipped inside. His bedroom was dark. The only light was coming from a window to the south and it was not much as the sun had just set. The sounds were much louder now. Jocelyn picked Valentine out in the gloom by his white hair. He was sitting on the bed, holding something in his hand.
"Valentine," Jocelyn whispered, taking a step near closer. Valentine looked up, as though he were about to chase her off, then slouched back down when he realized it was her.
"Hey," she said, coming to stand next to him. "Talk to me, what's happened?"
But he was unable to get the words out. Instead he held up what was in his hand; a crumpled letter, strained with tears.
Jocelyn read slowly, the dread in her stomach growing with every word. It was Valentine's uncle writing to him, and Valentine's father was dead - killed - on a routine raiding party no less. His uncle was staying with his family to help them cope. At the end, a plea from his Mother to stay in school, to graduate at the top of his class. And beneath her signature, a photograph was taped to the page. It could only have been Valentine's father. They had the same face, the same smile as they stood over a stag with crossbows over their shoulders. It looked recent.
"I never got to tell him about you," Valentine choked out.
"What?"
"My father. I was going to tell him about you when I saw him this Christmas but I didn't. I wanted to save it. I wanted him to see you in person first." Valentine was clearly trying to choke down his tears. Jocelyn could see his fists clenching with anger and frustration.
For Jocelyn, time seemed to slow. She was extraordinarily aware of what was happening here. She could step forward, and take his hands into hers as she so desperately wanted to, and cement what had been growing all along, or step back, and end whatever this was while she had the chance. This perpetual balance they had right now, between friends and more than friends, it couldn't last forever. This was the moment. She decided her future right here.
Jocelyn's hand reached forward, shaking as it grew closer. Inside a torment was raging. She loved this boy - there - she admitted it. But something inside her resisted the connection. Something very deep, something she had never felt before. It urged her to step backward so strongly that Jocelyn almost did. What was it that she felt? Fear? And - something more - doom? Get away now! The voice inside her screamed.
No,she thought, clenching her fist. Don't be afraid. You are a Shadowhunter. You are not afraid of anything.
And she sat down on the bed next to Valentine and took his hands in her hands. The dark feeling inside her evaporated instantly.
"Shhh," she said, wrapping an arm around his head and pulling him close, like an injured child. Valentine, the strongest, most invincible student at the Alicante Academy, collapsed onto her shoulder. "I'm here for you," Jocelyn whispered. "I'm here now."
They sat like that for several hours, Valentine's head on her shoulder, still shaking with pain and torment, her arms wrapped around his head, holding him close while he broke down as all hero's eventually did. The light died completely and it was pitch black before Jocelyn finally stood, lowering Valentine onto his bed and wiping the dried tears off his cheek. He had either passed out or fallen asleep.
"I'm here for you." Jocelyn whispered, setting a hand on his forehead. His face looked so painless when he was asleep. There was none of the intense concentration that usually dominated it. She approached the door, leaving a hand on the door handle while looking back. What he was going through right now, she couldn't comprehend. All she could do was help him through it.
"I'm here for you," Jocelyn repeated. ""I'll always be here for you."
** I realize that Jocelyn was not actually Parabati in the books (to my knowledge) and I actually made a bunch of stuff up in this chapter but oh well. As always, follow and leave a few words for me in the reviews, I love hearing from you! (No matter what you say!) **