Author Note: So... I'm an idiot. For those of you that caught my blaring mistake, thank you. I wish I could blame it on the lack of sleep I had before hand, but I think its more like I was too lazy to proof read what I had written. Just to clarify, JACE HAS GOLD EYES! I know it, you know it. It's been edited in the newest revision in this chapter. I hope everyone's weekend has been a nice and relaxing one!

Thank you for everything you guys do for me. I never want to jeopardize the continuity of my story or the wonderful characters Cassandra Claire created for us!

Chapter 21

The arrow stole her breath from deep within her chest as it hurtled across the field. All that was left was a crushing weight and an empty feeling as time seemed to stand still in that moment. She didn't dare move, not even to blink. She just stood there, her arms outstretched, holding tightly to her bow.

The sound of the arrow flying through the air between her and the target is high in its pitch, until its not, burying itself in Ivar's chest, a fatal thud as sharpened rock pierces skin and bone. Then there's eyes looking back at her, big and round, shocked. Her eyes fall to his chapped lips as they fall open to say something, but they are silent. A river of blood begins to pour out of his mouth, a nasty gurgling sound coming from him that turns her stomach.

He has fallen to his knees, his life bleeding out of him. Literally.

Ivar's body sways dangerously, the rock falling from his loosening grip, falling to the ground. Clary looks back at the giant and there's a moment, just a single beat of her heart, that has her chin lifting slightly as she stares back at her attacker.

His eyes are next, sliding to the back of his head as his whole body slumps and falls to the side. Its quiet again, there forest holding its breath after witnessing a giant crumble into the dirt. Clary almost fools herself into believing that should could feel the small vibrations beneath her feet as the soil took the impact of the falling oaf.

A pulse in her ear turns into a loud roaring sound, like rushing water, just as her knees begin to buckle and she goes crashing to her knees, unable to look away from Ivar's lifeless body. Somewhere deep inside her head, there's a voice that is telling her that the earth is cold and unforgiving against her knees, but she doesn't move, she can't. Her hands are shaking too much to be of any use against the hair flying over her face in waves as the wind picks up around her, sticking to the cold sweat along her brow.

Seconds pass, perhaps minutes, and she can feel the edges of her vision closing in around her as her body begins to shut done, exhaustion pulling at her bones like a lover to bed. She just wants to sleep, to close her eyes and not wake up.

And then he's there.

Jace.

The fuzzy outline of his blonde head comes into view first, obstructing her view of the dead body across the clearing. She blinks at his close proximity, her eyes focusing on him as her brain tries to process if he's a threat. His eyes are the first thing she notices, wild and searching her face for something within the lines of her face. They are a deep golden hue. Its as if she is staring at the sun, but she can't seem to look away. Moment by moment, she feels a small pull in her chest, bringing her slowly back to reality as if the sun was rising in the east, taking her along for the ride.

Her eyes float down to his mouth, a bit swollen from the fight and a split along his lower lip. The movement is too fast, she doesn't understand what he is trying to say. She narrows her eyes, concentrating on their motions, but the roaring sound in her ears prevents herself from making any sort of judgement.

She gives up, letting her eyes travel lazily back to his own still staring at her. She recognizes the concern deep in his gold irises. She finds that she could stare at his eyes forever if he would let her, but right now, right now she just wanted to sleep. She can feel them growing heavier the longer she tries to keep them open. Maybe if she just closes her eyes, maybe she won't be here, kneeling with him, across from…

A warm hand presses into her cheek, startling her enough to make her flinch, her eyes snapping open and looking back at Jace. She blinks again, feeling the warmth spread over cheek and down her neck. The ringing in her ears begins to ebb and she forcibly swallows the swollen lump in her dry throat. She can feel herself leaning into the hand as if begging for the heat to cover her body in its entirety.

Clary.

Her brow scrunches as she hears her name from somewhere, wondering if her mind is reminding her of who she is, but then she hears it again and she realizes its Jace saying her name again as she leans into his open palm. She feels herself getting pulled to the surface, her ears straining to her every syllable, to feel every decibel that leaves his lips as if they are dying of thirst and his voice is cool drink of water.

She gasps, inhaling a large amount of air that threatens to break her ribcage open before she pushing it all out, but it's not enough. She pulls in another one and another. She can't seem to catch up, the air moving in and out of her panting mouth, but its as if her body is refusing to accept any of the proffered oxygen.

A sob wrenches from her tight chest, her eyes blurring with unshed tears as her breaths increase exponentially. A second warm palm finds her other cheek and she whimpers, her arm to heavy to brush it away so she just sits there, gasping and choking on sobs until she hears her name again, only this time it's a little louder than the last time.

"Clary." His voice is low, but commanding, forcing her to really focus on his next words. She feels her body relax as the smoothness of his voice reaches her ears, pulling her mind out of the depths of the hole she was falling into just moments ago.

"Breathe," he demands in the space between them, his breath fluttering over her face in short, controlled puffs. She swallows the sobs that beg her to release them, her mind already berating her for falling apart like this in front of someone, in front of him, her supposed enemy.

But was he still? She didn't want to think about that right now and so she removed it to be discussed later on when she wasn't having a mental breakdown.

"Breathe with me," he adds, taking her hand in his and lifting from her resting place on her legs. She hadn't noticed the way she was gripping her leg until she felt the pressure leave her thigh. He put her hand to his chest, his own clasped over it as he stared back at her. Her eyes drop to both of their hands resting on his chest, his shirt torn to shred during the fight. She can feel the little slivers of skin between the tears as her hand lies there trapped beneath his.

His inhale is slow and she watches her hand retreat towards her before falling back to him on his exhale. She watches this a few times before she tries to mimic the motion with her own breathing. It's difficult at first, the ghosts of tiny sobs and burgeoning hiccups threaten to unbalance her rhythm, but after a couple of minutes, she's breathing with him and she feels immensely lighter and like herself once more.

She can feel her control settle around her breathing, but found it difficult to take back her hand, her eyes not moving from his hand on top of her's. Her mind flashed to other hands that had touched her, cruel and unforgiving hands, but these hands were gentle, yet strong and that made her feel something that she couldn't quite name just yet. She supposed it wasn't important at the moment anyway, but she was willing to concede that the man before her was no longer her enemy, at least not tonight.

That last thought has her relaxing, all of her muscles releasing themselves from their strained positions as if all the stress is leaving her body and she looks up to find Jace staring down at her with a look of curious assessment. She can feel a different kind of warmth in her cheeks, from embarrassment of her breakdown, but she shoves it away, holding her ground as if she were daring him to make a big deal out of all of it.

God, she hopes he doesn't.

"Are you able to stand?" His voice brings her back to the forefront of her mind. She takes a minute to mentally catalogue weather she has any feeling in her legs, finally feeling the punishing coldness of the ground below her. She tries to wiggle her toes and thanks God in a silent prayer that she still had use of her legs.

She nods her head, giving him his answer, before she watches him stand up, stretching his right hand out to her in a silent offering to help her up. She looks at his hand for a moment assessing and then watches as her hand falls into his, the weight of it earlier seeming vanished into thin air. She lets him pull her to her feet in one fluid movement, cut off short by the wobbliness of her feet, but his hand remains securely around her's as she steadies herself, getting used to being on her feet again.

"It's not safe for us out here," Jace mutters under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear. "We must get back."

Clary nods silently as Jace turns his body to look into the trees behind him and that's when she sees him again.

Ivar.

Dead.

She killed him. She killed a man.

She can feel the shakiness in her hands again, her breaths coming out in short pants that threaten to overwhelm her again, but then her view of Ivar's lifeless body is obscured by a broad chest.

"Don't look, Clary," Jace instructs, resting his left hand on her shoulder, his other hand lifting her chin so she would look into his eyes. "I want you to look at me. Nothing else. Can you do that?"

"Yes," she whispers, barely recognizing her voice slipping from between her dry lips as if it had been raked across the rocks.

"Perfect," he replied with a large grin forming on his face, "I'm way prettier than anything out there anyway."

Clary felt her eye twitch, as if her eye wanted to roll itself, but was too lazy to. She just settled for settling her narrowed gaze at him as if she was asking if that comment was necessary. All she got in return was a careless shoulder shrug as he turned her with him as they began walking back into the trees from where she came.

"I'll take you wherever you want to go,"Jace said, breaking the long silence between them as they walked between the trees. "But you're welcome to stay with me tonight if you want. I have food and herbs to put on those cuts."

Clary looked at him curiously, unsure of what she wanted to do.

"You would let me go if I didn't want to go with you?" she asked, waiting for him to bust out laughing, but he did not. He just turned his eyes back to the never ending forest of trees before them.

"You saved my life," he said, an emotion crossing over his otherwise stoic features that she couldn't put a finger on. "It's the least I can do."

Clary thought about his offer, mulling it aroud in her head, weighing the pros and cons of her situation. She was pretty banged up and wouldn't know where to go should she choose not to go back with him and so she knew her mind was already made up.

"Alright," she said in answer, "I'll stay with you."

Jace grinned a wide smile that had her stomach flipping in a good way, but she tried to ignore it.

"Just until I figure out what I'm going to do next," she says, eyeing him cautiously, incase he took back his offer to let her go if she chose.

"Of course," he replies, adding, "However, I don't know why you would ever want to leave behind my warm hospitality and my charming personality."

Clary couldn't help the soft laugh that slipped past her lips this time. Enjoying the feeling of weightiness that passed through her for that short moment.

"I'll be sure to impart some wisdom during your stay," he offered as they trudged through the thick brush, "We need to work on your art of escape."

Clary nodded her head in fake agreement, "I suppose I could use a few pointers."

The rest of the walk was made in silence, but neither one of them seemed bothered by it, each of them focused on their own thoughts on the evening and perhaps how it would affect their interactions moving forward.

Jace opened the front door for her and she whispered a small thanks before she stepped inside for the second time in her life. However, this time, she felt completely different about the place. The first time she felt caged in, nervous, but this time she felt protected, less anxious.

Jace stepped in behind her and closed the door, locking it behind him before stepping around her and heading further into the room. He immediately started a new fire, the embers coming to life in brilliant shades of oranges and blues. Once he was satisfied with the flickering flames and heat, he made his way to a large shelf and began grabbing different jars and supplies before heading to the table.

"Have a seat," he called, nodding towards the spot on the bench next to him, placing all of the stuff on the table.

She hesitantly took her first step further into the room and then straightened her shoulders, finding it ridiculous to have any more worries in the back of her mind. If Jace had been lying about his intent to harm her or keep her here against her will, he would have acted on it in some way, not giving her plenty of time and space to launch her next escape.

She closed the distance between them and took the seat next to him, welcoming the heat from the fire as it soaked through her damp clothes and soothed her aching muscles and tired bones.

"Let me see your wrists," Jace's soothing voice spoke to her right, brining her out of the fog of the blanket of warmth that had wrapped around her. She lifted her hands to his outstretched ones and watched as he carefully looked down at them, muttering things she couldn't understand, his brow crinkled in concern.

"The cuts aren't that deep, so they won't leave any scars," he said, as he grabbed an already damp cloth from the table, "but it will take a few days for them to heal." He brought the cool cloth to her raw wrists and she winced at the pain, her breath catching in her chest as he cleaned the wound.

"I have some salve made from the herbs in the garden that you can use," he added, "Its just help with the pain and prevent infection."

"Thank you," Clary whispered unsure of what else to say. She was a little distracted by the gentle way he held her wrists, as if he was afraid that she might shatter if he held on too tightly. She wasn't surprised. After her earlier behavior, it was a wonder he wasn't afraid she might break apart with the changing of the wind.

She couldn't help but notice the difference in size once again. She had fought so hard to get away, put everything she had into her escape, but she had easily been overpowered and it left her feeling helpless. How was she going to survive this new world, save herself, let alone Simon, if everyone around her were bigger and stronger. The situation seemed helpless.

The salve was cool along her wrists, a welcome reprieve from the burning sensation left in the cloths wake.

"Apply the salve twice a day," Jace spoke, putting the topper back into the jar before handing it to her, "Do this for the next three days."

Clary nodded again. Muttering another thank you before she could stop herself.

Jace turned to busy himself with the items still strewn around them on the table and Clary took a moment to assess him. She could see the bruises already forming on his jaw, the cut to his lip and the blood that had dried outside of his ear.

"Can I help you get cleaned up?" she asked, feeling a little ridiculous, but she held his stare when he looked up at her with a grin on his face.

"I'm fine, Red," he assured her, using his preffered nickname for her that she hated, "Just some small scratches here and there. I assure you," he said, with a laugh, "Izzy has done far worse when I dared to comment on the way she walks."

Clary quirked an eyebrow as she watched her turn back towards the table.

"I guess imminent death doesn't do you any good where your stubbornness is concerned, does it?" she asked, sticking her tongue in her cheek as she tried not to laugh when he did.

"Absolutely not," he replied, standing up before gathering all the supplies in his hand, "Its part of my charm."

"I see," she mutters, turning her eyes back to the fire. It was so mesmerizing, the way the flamed flicked back and forth. It would have been soothing if not for the flashes of images that rose in the back of her mind in the quiet.

She gasped out loud as an image of Ivar loomed above her, an unflattering noise leaving her throat.

Jace was there in a flash, calling her name and she found his eyes immediately.

"I'm sorry," she whispered in a trembling voice. "I don't know why I keep falling apart on you." She hastily wiped at her eyes, embarrassed of their traitorous tears. If it bothered Jace to see her so weak, he didn't say anything.

Instead, he just took the seat next to her again and looked back at her, no longer the joking boy that had teased her moments ago, but a more serious minded man she was beginning to get a peek into.

"Was he your first kill?" Jace asked a knowing in his eyes when she couldn't do anything but nod her answer. He pursed his lips, turning his head to look into the flames of the fire. "Taking a life is never easy, Clary. It takes something from you, a part of you that you can't get back."

Clary swallowed the lump rising in her throat as she looked into the fire, searching for whatever he saw beneath the flames.

"You had no other choice," he spoke again, this time his voice was a little firmer as if he really needed her to hear him. She turned her head towards him, his eyes already back on her's. "You did what you had to do," he added, "It was him or you."

"Thank you," she said for the third time that night, but this time she didn't flinch, didn't berate herself for her overuse of the phrase because this time she meant it.

Jace cocked his head in slight confusion, his eyes running over her face before settling on her eyes once more. "For what?"

"For coming after me," she answered, letting her eyes drop to his chest. All the reasons why it had been a dumb move to flee in the middle of the night without having a decent plan all came crashing down around her. She had been too quick to act and she had nearly paid the ultimate price. She had put her own life in danger, even Jace's life once he made the decision to come for her. "You saved me she said, I can't thank you enough."

Jace leaned back assessing her for a moment, she could feel his eyes on her. She hesitantly looked back into those golden irises and held her breath, waiting for him to say something, anything.

Slowly, a grin formed on his angelic face. "The way I see it," he started, "you had it totally covered, I just came in with a helping hand. Besides," he added, "you repaid the favor when you buried one of my arrows in the bastard's chest. Nice aim by the way."

Clary felt her face heat with his comment, but she felt the edges of mouth pull up to grin back at him.

"I suppose, I did save your life," she said, watching as his grin spread over his entire face.

"Yes, but lets leave that in between us, shall we?" he said, "After all, I have a reputation to protect."

"Not used to being saved by a girl?" she asked, arching a brow on her forhead.

"Oh no," Jace replied, "Izzy has saved my ass plenty of times. Its Alec that can't know."

"Alec?" Clary asked confusingly.

Jace nodded, "Yes. If he hears that an archer saved me then I will never hear the end of it."

"You don't like archery?" Clary asked.

Jace shrugged his shoulders. "It's a good hunting skill to have," he offered, "but I had always preferred to be up and close in battle."

"And now?" Clary laughed as Jace winced when his fingers brushed again the cut in his lower lip.

"I guess archery has its uses in battle."

Clary snorted at his ridiculousness, thankful for the emotional reprieve even for just a moment.

"We will talk about it," Jace said after a brief pause in their conversation. "But it doesn't have to be tonight."

Clary nodded her agreement, feeling her body begin to slump down as a powerful exhaustion began to nestle its way beneath her skin.

"Come on, Red," Jace said, standing to his feet and offering his hand again. She didn't hesitate this time, letting him pull her up to her feet and guide her to the bed. She climbed in, her body settling beneath the heavy bear skin that Jace pulled over her before turning for his makeshift cot on the floor. She watched him walk away and wondered what all this would mean in the morning. Would they wake up tomorrow like nothing had ever happened, back to the snarky comment and skittish movements around each other or would tomorrow be the start of something new that unsettled her. The last thing she needed to do was to start liking him, her captor, but she supposed he wasn't that anymore, not since they had fought together and survived.

Clary closed her eyes, her mind too muddled with other thoughts from the last twenty four hours without adding new ones that could wait until the morning. Right now she just wanted to burrow down into the warmth of the bed below her and sleep for the next several lifetimes.