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Chapter 9: Grounds

"Do you hear that?" Stephen asked. He sat up in bed, trying to determine where the baby's screams were coming from. The bedroom was pitch black. The wick of the candle which had been lit on the bedside table was now drowning in a puddle of wax so that only a tiny flame remained. Stephen sensed someone beside him, someone warm, soft, and definitely feminine. He wasn't surprised she was still in his bed, in fact, he would have been more shocked if she had left.

"I told you, Jocelyn was in labor. She must have given birth," Celine said. She sat up beside and kissed Stephen on the shoulder, then touched his back with a cool hand. "Go back to sleep." Celine lay down with a sigh, pulling the sheets around her bare chest.

"I'm going into the bathroom. When I come out, I don't want you here," Stephen said. He climbed out of bed, found his pajama pants, and tossed Celine her nightgown.

"Stephen, I thought…"

"What?" Stephen asked. "What did you think? You came in here for one thing, and you got it. Now you can leave." He walked into the bathroom and closed the door. When he walked out a few minutes later, Celine was gone.

The next time Stephen opened his eyes, he saw Valentine sitting on the side of the bed, holding a tiny blue bundle in his hands. Valentine looked down at Stephen and smiled, then moved the blanket aside to reveal a small baby.

Stephen felt something well up inside of him. He rolled over and gagged, though nothing came up, yet, so he clamped a hand over his mouth and rolled out of bed.

"Get it away from me!" Stephen cried.

"It?" Valentine asked. "Oh, Stephen, he's not your son, he's mine. Come see him. You'll see…" Valentine stood up and came closer.

"Get it away!" Stephen screamed.

"I know you're frightened," Valentine said. His voice was calm and soothing, though Stephen could not feel calm. "I know the last time you saw a baby, it was difficult on you. I'm sorry, I didn't think about that, but you have to face this fear, Stephen. You can't go through life afraid of blue blankets."

"I'm not afraid," Stephen said. He was feeling something far worse than fear. It was as if every part of his body was rejecting the very presence of such a creature.

"Then look at my beautiful son," Valentine said. Stephen shook his head. "I said look at my son, Stephen." Stephen looked down at the baby.

There was no mistaking Valentine's son. The baby's eyes were the same coal black as Valentine's, his hair the same silvery white. His mouth was set into an angry scowl as he stared up at Stephen, already angry at the world. He was nothing like little Alec Lightwood, who only wanted to sip his bottle, then doze lazily in his mother's arms, a peaceful look upon his sweet face. There was nothing peaceful, or good, about this baby.

"Take him away," Stephen whispered. Valentine scowled.

"You're being ridiculous, Stephen. He's just a child," Valentine said. "Put yourself together and come downstairs. I want to have breakfast with my boys." Stephen clenched his jaw as Valentine smirked and started for the door. He stopped before exiting and turned around, a smile on his face. "Aren't you going to congratulate me?"

"For what?" Stephen asked.

Valentine scowled and left the room.

Stephen did put himself together. After a long, hot shower, he got dressed and walked out of his room just as Michael walked out of his. Michael glanced over at Stephen and then looked away. Stephen was unsure of what to say to Michael. So much had happened the night before. They were bound together with secrets and lies.

"Good morning," Stephen said. Michael nodded and started down the hallway. His shoulders were set rigid, his body all hard lines of tension. "How did you sleep?"

"How did you?" Michael asked. He turned quickly to Stephen, looking into his eyes. "How do you sleep, Stephen? I heard everything. Every moan and thrust and gasp and… you must have something impressive, or she just must be good at faking it."

"I'm sorry," Stephen mumbled, "It just happened."

"How does it just happen?" Michael whispered. He sounded desperate and hurt. "How does sex just happen? You cheated on your wife. I don't care how awful things are between you and Amatis right now, that doesn't give you the right to fuck around! She's your wife!" Michael continued down the hallway, shaking his head angrily.

Last night, it had only been Stephen and Celine, but now Michael knew and Celine would probably tell Valentine and it wouldn't be long before it would get back to Amatis. Last night, it seemed like a good idea. Today, those few blissful minutes of pleasure couldn't make up for the guilt Stephen felt inside.

"I'm sorry," Stephen said again.

"Don't talk to me," Michael said. "Later, okay? But not now. Not when… I can't even look at you, Stephen." They continued downstairs, a sudden, impermeable silence between them.

Michael spotted Valentine out of the patio at a table set for three. He and Stephen walked out and found seats across from one another with Valentine at the head of the table. Valentine was still holding the baby in his hands, though the newborn was now dressed in a tiny blue sleeper with accompanying blue hat. The baby was still wide awake. His hands were folded as if he were praying.

"Congratulations," Michael said. He leaned over and touched the baby's hand, then pulled away quickly as his face went pale. "What's his name?'

"Jonathan," Valentine said.

"Just like my son," Michael said. "I thought you were going to name him Joshua."

"I changed my mind," Valentine said with a shrug. "I'm sure we'll be able to tell our sons apart. Isn't your boy Jonathan Michael? You can just call him Michael." Michael stared at the domed plate before him and didn't say anything. Stephen understood Michael's discomfort. Michael's own son had been Jonathan for the past four months. Valentine couldn't just expect Michael to change his son's name.

"I think Jonathan is too common a name, nowadays," Stephen said. "Every family has at least two Jonathans. It's obvious you named your son after Jonathan Shadowhunter. It's not even original." Valentine cleared his throat and poured some tea.

"Stephen, son, is there something bothering you?" Valentine asked, "You only hurl insults when you're upset."

"There's nothing to be upset about," Stephen said easily. "I was merely pointing out the overuse of the name Jonathan in the Nephilim culture. I certainly didn't mean to insult you. Forgive me." Valentine smiled and nodded.

They each lifted the domes covering their plates to find a hot breakfast of bacon, eggs, sausage, and potatoes. For a few minutes, they were quiet as they ate and remarked on the weather, which had turned unseasonably cold. An early winter was predicted. It had the potential to last well into February.

"So how did last night go?" Valentine asked. Stephen looked up at Michael, who gazed back nonchalantly.

"Smoothly. The only people who saw us access the Cup were the guards. They seemed hesitant to allow us into the room, but they gave us no trouble," Michael said.

"And no one followed you here?" Valentine asked.

"I doubled back twice. There was no one," Michael replied. "Mission accomplished." He smiled smugly and sipped some tea. Valentine laughed and shook his head.

"The mission is far from accomplished. Now that I have the Mortal Cup, I'll need the Mortal Sword. We are, however, moving along with my plan," Valentine said.

"You have a plan?" Stephen asked.

"No, son, I only wanted you to steal the Cup to show me you would," Valentine said sarcastically.

"Are you insulting me now?" Stephen asked. "Wait, let me come up with a cheeky retort." Valentine frowned.

"Of course I have a plan, and now that you've stolen the Cup, I can tell you the plan. Rest assured, if you tell anyone about this, I'll kill you," Valentine said. "The Accords are to be signed next November, fourteen months from now. You were both mere toddlers the last time the Accords were signed. Basically, Downworlders come to Idris to meet, discuss treaties, to do business, so to speak. It is a time of celebration, where we celebrate our… peaceful relations with Downworlders." His lips twisted as though he tasted something bitter. "My plan is to spend the next fifteen months raising an army by converting mundanes to Nephilim with the Mortal Cup. When the Downworlders come to Idris, we will kill them all."

"You're going to make more Shadowhunters?" Stephen asked.

"Yes. It's not like I can count on you to make more," Valentine said. Stephen blushed. He didn't care that Amatis could no longer bear children, but Valentine made Stephen feel like it was his fault, when it wasn't. Amatis was the one not strong enough to carry his child.

"He can't have anymore," Michael said. "His wife-"

"Michael!" Stephen exclaimed. "Stop talking about it!" Valentine watched the exchange with his hands folded the same way Jonathan had his hands folded.

"Stephen can have children. He just has to go about it differently than you and I," Valentine said. He smirked. "Things seemed strained between you to. Have you had a lover's quarrel?" Michael dropped his forked and recovered it quickly.

"We aren't lovers!" Stephen said. Valentine snorted, jostling the baby, who seemed to glare at his father in his own infantile way.

"Well, something's come between you, and I'll place money on it having something to do with a girl," Valentine said. "It's such a shame when women come between parabatai. Someone always loses." Michael glared at Stephen.

"It's nothing," Michael said. "I didn't sleep well last night, is all." Valentine nodded. He might have said more, but Jonathan started to fuss, clenching his hands into fists as his face turned red.

The patio door opened and Celine walked out. She carried a tea pot in one hand and a baby bottle in the other. She handed Valentine the bottle, who offered it to Jonathan.

"More tea?" Celine asked. Valentine nodded, so Celine refilled his cup, and then topped off Michael's as well. She walked around the table and refilled Stephen's cup as well.

Stephen wanted to believe that he spent the night as far away from Celine as possible, but he hadn't. Sometime during the night, he'd rolled over, took her in his arms, and laid his head against her back. He'd fallen back asleep not smelling her orange blossom perfume, but rather the soft, clean scent of her skin. Now, with Celine just inches away, every memorable scene from the night before played on an endless loop in his mind.

Stephen remembered Celine lying on the bed beneath him. He had kissed her neck and ran his hands across her chest. He continued kissing down her chest, then flicked his tongue over each of her tiny, pert nipples, causing them each to harden beneath his tongue. Celine's skin had tasted like his sweat. Somehow, he had already made her his own. She had sliced her nails down his sides, over his ribs, all the way down to the runes on his hips. Her breath had been hot against the base of his throat. When he came, she pulled his hair and smashed her lips against his. It hurt, though by then he was beyond feeling pain.

Stephen gasped as Celine stepped away. She walked back across the patio and Stephen could not help it, he watched her go, feeling like he was still at her mercy.

"By the Angel, Stephen, it's only Assam tea," Valentine said. He watched Celine walk inside with a predatory look in his eyes. "So it was a woman." Michael mumbled a curse and looked off the patio, out into the rolling hills that surrounded the manor.

"I cheated on my wife," Stephen said. "It was a mistake. It will never happen again." Sex was born out of love, but Stephen didn't love Celine and never would. He couldn't seem to regret last night, however.

"How long have you been married?" Valentine asked.

"Almost four months," Stephen replied. Valentine nodded. "Why?"

"There's a little known rule for Shadowhunter weddings, since so many people marry young and stupid the way you did," Valentine said. "Within six months of getting married, you can annul your marriage for any number of reasons. There are irreconcilable differences, where there is such a difference in an aspect of your marriage, it's unforgivable. You can annul a marriage for reason of insanity: if you go insane, or, if Amatis was to."

"She's not crazy and neither am I," Stephen whispered.

"Infidelity is also grounds for divorce," Valentine said.

"Valentine!" Michael exclaimed. "He's going to go home and never speak about this to his wife. He's not getting divorced over one night spent with another woman."

"Everything happens for a reason," Valentine said. "If Amatis found out, she would never forgive him. As it stands now, Stephen has more than enough reason to seek an annulment. Amatis can't have children, he was unfaithful… why there's barely any sort of marriage left between them, am I right?" He directed his question at Stephen.

"He's not getting divorced," Michael said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get home to my wife. Stephen…Don't do it. You can get passed this. Don't throw everything away over one night." Stephen was unsure of what night Michael was talking about.

"I'll see you later," Stephen said. Michael walked back inside. "Valentine? What do I need to know about the annulment?"

A few hours later, Stephen arrived back in Alicante. He left Nicias at the stable, and then headed for home. When he got there, he found Amatis sleeping on the couch as usual. Stephen let her sleep and spent some time cleaning up their bedroom. When he felt someone was watching him, he looked up to see Amatis standing in the doorway.

"Where have you been?" Amatis asked. "I thought you would be home in the morning." Stephen shrugged. "Do you even care about me anymore? You used to never make me worry. Now… it's like I don't know you. I never know what's coming next. What's going to happen next, Stephen?"

"I want a divorce," Stephen said. He wanted to look away in that moment, to not have to see the look of shock that appeared across his wife's face, but looking away meant that later, he would doubt he ever asked in the first place.

"No," Amatis said. "I know things have been difficult between us, but we aren't going to get divorced over it. We can work this out. We love each other, right?"

"Amatis, I…" Stephen began. He spent the ride home preparing a speech. He planned to tell Amatis what happened between him and Celine, and then, they would divorce. Now, he couldn't seem to open his mouth to tell her that while she had been home, sick, and heartbroken, that he had been unfaithful. "I just want a divorce. I think we're better off apart."

"You would leave me?" Amatis asked. "You would leave me with nothing? You would walk away from everything just because that's what you want? What about me? What will become of me when you're gone?"

"I assume you'll make it on your own," Stephen said. He forced himself to look at Amatis, to see the tears filling her eyes, because the tears made it real.

"I have nothing," Amatis said. "Luke is gone. Our son is gone. And now, you want to leave to. Why, Stephen? Why would you do this to me?" She started to sob. She took a step forward and reached out to grab Stephen, to hold him close. Stephen stepped backwards. "Why, Stephen, why?"

"Last night… Celine and I had sex," Stephen said. "She came to my room. I wanted her, she wanted me, and… I had her. And the night of Luke's memorial? We took a walk around the lake and I kissed her and I wanted her then. And three weeks ago, the night on my Initiation? I wanted her that night, as well. I was unfaithful. It's grounds for divorce."

"You're a coward," Amatis said. She was crying by then, measuring out her hysteria in tiny, sob laden doses. "You cheated on your wife at the worst time of her life. You're nothing but a coward. Your father was right. You are good for nothing."

"You're absolutely right, and so is he. I am good for nothing. I'm doing you a favor by getting out of your life," Stephen said. "I want a divorce."

Author's Note: Thanks for reading, please review. I have no teaser, sorry!