Okay, so I do not apologize for the tangent that this chapter sort of goes off on! I meant to make this a chapter of normal length, but my hands slipped and I accidentally wrote about 2,500 words more than normal. But I do promise you all that the story told in this chapter will carry great importance later on, so this isn't merely a very long tangent of pleasure. Though I was thoroughly pleased to finally be able to write this!
I wanted to also take this time to remind everyone that I do not tag/warn about major character deaths! That has nothing to do with this particular chapter, but it will come into play towards the middle/end of this story. So just keep that in mind as you're reading. If you would like to know one way or the other about a character's well being, you can always message me because I do understand that it can be a sensitive thing for some people. But I try to preserve the element of surprise as best as possible in my stories because we all know I like to leave off on cliffhangers, and if I've tagged a character death, it would defeat the purpose of the cliffhanger.
All that being said, I hope you enjoy this rather lengthy chapter! Please do let me know your thoughts because it is by far my favorite thus far! Thank you all so much for continuing to stick with me!
Not for the first night that week, James couldn't sleep, troubled by thoughts that wouldn't settle long enough for him to get some rest. But the problem was that "troubled" wasn't the right word for how he felt, as the thoughts were pleasant ones instead of the usual horrible ones. It had been a month and a half since the training program had begun and the Clave meeting had happened, and for once in James's life, everything seemed to be calm and somewhat cheerful. Things actually seemed somewhat normal, or as normal as they could be when your entire family was famous for saving the world. But James was still weary of relaxing into the normality of it all, knowing that with this kind of family, the peace could change in the blink of an eye.
Mason was acting exactly the way everyone knew he would, but James was slightly proud of the fact that Mason seemed to be toning down his crush on Sophie, trying his hardest to keep his distance and to annoy her as little as possible. James had been utterly surprised to find that Mason was one of the best of the Shadowhunters in the training program. Serena certainly had talent in abundance, but to James she seemed as though she lacked the motivation to acquire any more talent. Evan, Marlies, and Preston were all warriors, there was no doubt about that. But they were too arrogant and unrefined. Mason had the same sort of refined technique that James often saw in his father, it was simply that the perfect technique that Mason had was wholly unexpected from someone like him.
But James would never hesitate to admit that Rose was certainly the best of the new trainees. From the moment she'd set foot inside the training room, she'd outshone all of them, not to mention that she was definitely a much better fighter than James and a few of his cousins as well. Rose greatly intrigued James, and mostly because he knew that her lack of sight did nothing to hinder her fighting abilities. He would almost dare say that she was better because of it. He'd enjoyed spending time with her when he'd found it possible, especially after he realized that she laughed and smiled in earnest even when he made the biggest fool of himself.
Yet it was this intrigue and enjoyment that was bothering James the most. He was unable to sleep with his hands itching to draw the way they were. So he'd ended up in the library yet again, doing the one thing that he hated the most. James had never understood his hatred of drawing, and he knew he never would, but he felt as though he'd gotten the short end of the straw. He'd inherited his mother's red hair and artistic abilities, but Charlie had been the one to inherit almost everything that had ever made their father the warrior he was. Yet James knew that he couldn't keep his thoughts off of Rose, no matter how hard he tried, so he knew the only thing to do was allow himself to draw and wade through his thoughts.
James finally looked up from his sketch when he heard his Uncle Alec clear his throat before sitting down beside of James. "Drawing again?" he asked, the hint of a smile in his tone. His uncle was one of the only people who truly knew both the extent of his artistic abilities as well as the extent of his hatred for them. So James didn't attempt to hide his sketch from his uncle, knowing that it would be useless to do so. "She must be a very special girl," Alec continued, and James could hear the knowing and understanding tone and he knew that his uncle was thinking of his own love. "Mind telling me what's keeping you up?" he finally asked, getting to the inevitable question they had both known was coming.
Sighing, James turned toward his uncle, happy to see that Alec seemed much more relaxed than he had in weeks. His uncles seemed to be gracefully adjusting to the news that they would never be married in the way that they most desired, and James was furiously happy to know that. He had been scared that the news would crush them to the point of permanently altering their relationship, but they seemed to be closer than ever before, and James found himself wishing for a love that could handle life the way theirs always did. "I've been spending a lot of time with her, just the two of us," James explained, smiling at the thought of the peace it brought him to simply sit beside her and read a book as she read one of her own that was written in Braille. "It's just that I've begun noticing such discord between the Rose I see in the training room and the Rose I see when it's just us. When I'm the only one around, she is honestly the kindest, sweetest girl I've ever met. But when it comes to the training program, she seems so cold and closed off. And I can't seem to get the two to mesh together in my mind."
For several moments, Alec seemed to think about what James had just said, his silence the contemplative sort that James was all too familiar with. "I've been paying careful attention to her during training," Alec finally said, his voice betraying that he knew he was admitting something he wasn't entirely proud of. "I have noticed what you're talking about, James, but I've come to believe that she realizes that she has to act much colder, tougher, and harder in order to achieve the things she wishes to achieve with her life." James knew his face was a mixture of confusion and understanding, which was confusing in and of itself. He thought he knew where his uncle was going with this, but he wasn't entirely sure, so he remained silent just in case.
"When your father and I began recruiting for this program, Rose's name continuously came out on top, which is no surprise after seeing the way she fights," Alec continued, his voice soft and thoughtful. "But both your father and I were extremely hesitant to bring her here to train. In the end, she set up a meeting with us to actually show us how capable she is and her passion for being in the program." His uncle's words came as no surprise to James, not when he knew just how much this opportunity meant to Rose. "One thing that you have to realize, Jamie, is that she has been treated differently her entire life because of her differences. And whether that's right or wrong, it's something she's had to adapt to."
James hated when his uncle was so horribly right as he was now, but James supposed that he should be used to that by now, as he couldn't remember a time that his uncle had actually been wrong when giving advice. "I think you should count yourself lucky that she's sharing this part of herself with you," Alec said, glancing at James and his sketch in a way that told James he was indicating that he should consider sharing a part of himself with her as well. "As a person who has felt as though he had to build walls around himself to keep from being hurt, trust me when I say that she likely feels as though remaining tough and cold is the only way that she can be taken seriously. If she is breaking down those walls when you are around, then it likely means she's comfortable with you, not that she is trying to be a different person."
After considering his uncle's words for several moments, James finally responded, his smile beginning to widen enough to cover his face. "I hate it when you're right," he admitted, earning just as wide of a smile from his uncle. After putting the finishing touches on his sketch, James finally allowed himself to go back to bed, his uncle's words calming his mind enough that he knew he could finally actually fall asleep. James knew that he might never be happy that he had inherited his mother's artistic abilities, but the one thing he had inherited that he would always cherish was his father's flare for planning and scheming. And it was that thought that allowed him to fall asleep with a smile on his face.
James spent the next day trying to convince himself that he should talk to Rose and go about actually using the plan he'd come up with the night before. But the problem was that every time he thought about it, it made James's stomach clench in anticipation and nervousness. He knew that he shouldn't try to talk himself out of it, but the longer he watched her train that day, the more worried he became that she wouldn't actually like what he had planned. He wanted to talk to Max or George about it, but he was afraid that their inevitable laughter would scare him away from it. So in the end, James decided that there was no harm in trying, that he wouldn't know her answer unless he tried, so he steeled himself for attempting to set his plan into motion that night.
The last thing that James wanted to do was interrupt Rose when he found her in the library reading another book in Braille. But James also didn't need any more excuses to put off talking to her. If he let himself put it off now, he would only make more excuses later. Rose stopped moving her hand across the page when she heard him enter, and in order to keep up his courage, James began speaking before she could say anything at all. "Rose, I have a question for you," he said, his voice wavering ever so slightly. He watched as Rose slowly reached for her bookmark, marking her page in a way that said she wasn't too confident about James's question. James swallowed the lump in his throat, giving everything he had to attempt to calm his nerves.
"Let me guess," Rose responded, her voice icy cold in a way James hadn't expected. "You want to know how I lost my sight. Or maybe how I can actually fight so well." James remained silent, mostly because he was too stunned to say anything else, his uncle's words about the walls Rose had built echoing in his head. "Or you want to ask something else that treats me as though all I am is my disability. Well, go ahead and get it over with." As Rose finished speaking, James couldn't figure out what to do. Part of him wanted to just turn around and leave. But the other part of him recognized Rose's pain and rightful anger and wanted to comfort her. So instead he took a deep breath and dove in.
"That wasn't it at all," James replied, watching the relief and the regret wash over Rose's face. He wanted to reassure her, but instead he just pushed on, hoping he was doing the right thing. "I was actually going to ask if you would go to dinner with me tonight." James could hardly stand the expression that flashed across Rose's face. It was so full of such innocent and open surprise that it tore at James's heart. He knew that none of his family had ever directly asked Rose about her blindness, that none of them had ever judged her in any way because of it. But it suddenly hit James that the rest of the world was rarely so courteous as his family, and he wanted nothing more than to change that for Rose.
Sure, James was more than curious about Rose's story, but he was able to recognize the fact that he was curious about every part of Rose, that he didn't want to single out her disability in any way. But James also knew from growing up alongside Charlie that curiosity could only be satisfied when the other person wished for it to be. James wanted to put this into words for Rose, but he couldn't seem to find it in himself, so he simply waited for her response, wholly loathing his inability to comfort her. In the end, all Rose seemed able to say was, "That would be amazing, James/: And James knew that should have made him relax, that should have made him smile, but it only seemed to make him that much more anxious at the thought of the date itself.
In the end, James simply explained the plan to Rose, telling her to meet him at the Institute entrance at seven, explaining that the restaurant he had thought of going to was somewhere between fancy and casual. As soon as he was out of the library, James felt his heart rate increase, knowing that the two hours he had left would be full of anxiety. Instead of heading toward his own room, James turned in the opposite direction and headed toward George's. "I need your help," he said as he walked in without knocking. He didn't wait for George to respond, he simply kept going, knowing he was quickly running out of the courage he'd had just moments ago. "I have a date with Rose and I have no idea what to wear. You and I both know I've got the same fashion sense Uncle Alec has."
George's short laugh did nothing to hide the expression on his face that was so full of surprise it made James want to look away from him. "Rose? Are you serious?" George asked, his voice dripping with excitement that contradicted his surprise. James had known that George would get excited, and he'd actually be counting on it in a way. It wasn't every day that James had a date of any kind, but it especially wasn't every day that James asked for wardrobe help. "Come on, young one," George continued, taking hold of James's wrist and leading him down the hall toward his own room. "Tell me your plan for the evening; we've got a lot of work to do."
In the end, James walked out of his room wearing a button-up shirt that he rarely ever wore with the only pair of "dressy" khaki pants he owned. George swore the dark blue of the shirt made his green eyes pop. After a lot of thought on the matter, James had tried arguing that it didn't really matter what he wore, that Rose would have no idea that his eyes stood out because of the blue shirt he was wearing, but George point out that everyone around them would see it. James wasn't sure why this made any difference at all; he didn't care what those around them thought of him, but he listened to George anyway.
Listening to George as he tried to prepare James for the date only served to make James even more anxious, afraid that he was going to mess something up. He knew George meant well; he knew George was trying to help, but the more he had to hear about the date, the worse his imagination became. He wasn't exactly the most coordinated of people, and he knew the most likely scenario was that he would knock something over, most likely spilling it on Rose. As he stood waiting for Rose, James knew his mind was going to run through almost every terrible scenario it could come up with, but he seemed almost powerless to keep it from happening.
Yet somehow, James's mind cleared of every horrible thought as soon as Rose appeared at the end of the hallway and began walking toward him. She was wearing a dress that was the softest shade of pink James had ever seen, and the dress so perfectly captured every part of Rose's personality that James was unsure he'd ever seen someone wear something so perfect for them. Her hair was up in an elaborate braid that James would have never dreamed of being able to create. It was evident that Rose had asked the girls to help her get ready, but James knew he wouldn't have thought anything of it if he hadn't seen the twins and Serena running back to their rooms from Rose's as though they were trying to be invisible.
When Rose stopped in front of him, James realized that he'd been smiling the entire time she walked toward him, his reaction completely out of his own control. "You are exquisite," James finally said, his voice betraying his breathlessness. James found himself wishing, not for the first time, for his father's eloquence. But James knew there was no point in hoping for something that he knew he couldn't obtain, so he simply did the only thing he knew to do and offered Rose his arm. Then he promptly stumbled through an apology and an explanation as to how he wasn't offering to lead her around but rather he was trying to be a gentleman.
Rose had blushed and accepted his arm, two things that had made James that much more nervous and unable to control his thoughts and feelings. They both remained silent for the majority of the walk to the restaurant, but that didn't bother James. He was just happy to be able to spend time with her. But then she finally spoke up, and James had to swallow the lump in his throat. "James?" she asked, her voice softer than James had ever heard it. "Relax a little bit," she said, her smile evident in her voice even without looking at her. "You're doing fine," she continued, squeezing James's arm ever so slightly, clearly trying to encourage him. "And I'm sure you look just as wonderful as I imagine; I've heard that George has the best fashion sense in your family, other than your Uncle Magnus, of course."
James couldn't help but laugh, not at all surprised that the information about George's help with his wardrobe had spread to the others. In such a close family, absolutely nothing remained a secret for long, and James had quickly learned that a secret could only be kept if it was known by only one person. Somehow, despite everything that James knew about himself and his troubles with girls, Rose's words relaxed him, even if the effect was slight. And once they were seated in the Italian restaurant he'd picked out after finding out from Sophie that it was Rose's favorite cuisine, James finally began to feel as though the night might actually go well. Especially when the waiter set Rose's menu down in front of her.
It was clear to James that she was going to be polite about it, at least she was until she actually picked up the menu. James pretended to not notice Rose's shocked expression, but he didn't try to hide his smile, mostly because he knew she wouldn't see it. "Stop smiling like that and tell me what you did," she said, throwing James off ever so slightly as he tried to figure out how she knew he was smiling. Rose's voice was stern, but James could hear the thinly veiled joy within it, and he knew that he'd done the right thing. He'd been nervous about it, but seeing the smile that Rose was trying to hide took away all his fears.
James considered trying to tell her that he hadn't done anything, but he knew she wouldn't buy it. "I may or may not have called various restaurants in the area last night to find out if any of them offered menus in Braille," he admitted, clearing his throat when Rose asked him how long it had taken him to find one. "Not as long as you'd think," he lied, remembering the hours he'd spent on the phone. To his surprise, he'd actually found several places that did, but that was before he'd taken his list of possibilities to the girls and they'd made him begin calling places again, this time specifically looking for an Italian restaurant. But Rose didn't need to know about all of that, and mostly because James didn't want her to think that he expected too much from her. He had simply wanted her to understand that he didn't think any differently of her because of her disability.
After they'd ordered, James couldn't help but ask Rose how she was feeling with the training program, and he smiled once more at her wholly exasperated sigh. "Don't get me wrong, the training is amazing, but I knew it would be before coming here. That's why I fought so hard to get in. Who wouldn't want to be trained by arguably some of the best Shadowhunters the world has ever seen?" James had to admit that she was right, it was just that he sometimes forgot that his family was seen this way by everyone in the world. To him, they were just his family. "I just wish I could get the others to take me seriously," Rose continued, her voice heavier than it had been before. "You and your uncles seem to be the only ones who understand that I don't need to be coddled," she finished.
At that, James reached across the table to take hold of her hand. He couldn't say why he did so, he just felt as though it was something that he needed to do. So he was terribly relieved when Rose simply smiled and didn't pull her hand away from his. "I could name at least five people at the Institute who might actually need to be coddled," James replied, and he knew without a doubt that she could hear both the smile and the mischief in his voice. "And not a single one of them is you. I actually think one of them might be me," he finished, delighting in Rose's laughter. She seemed so much more relaxed and so much more herself than she even had when they'd spent time together in the Institute, and the thought of that made James much happier than he would have thought possible.
After that, James couldn't contain his curiosity any longer and he stooped to asking Rose about the twins helping her get ready. Thankfully, she didn't think anything bad of his question, and she began talking fondly of the twins with a smile on her face. James simply sat and watched her as she talked of their kindness and of several funny moments they'd had over the past few weeks. He was much happier to listen to Rose talk than to talk for himself, as James knew without a doubt that Rose was far more interesting than he could ever hope to be. But James's breath caught in his throat as he noticed something that he hadn't noticed before. Covering Rose's eyelids as well as the skin directly under her eyes were what looked to be a thousand of the smallest scars James had ever seen.
The effect was subtle, and James would have bet that no one else had yet noticed. He knew he was only noticing because this was the longest he'd actually looked at her in one sitting. The scars reminded him of the time George had burned himself on the stove when Aunt Isabelle had been cooking. Uncle Magnus had healed the wound, but the scarring on George's skin remained. And the way Rose's skin was scarred was eerily similar to the way that George's was. James began to wonder if Rose had been born with her sight and had had it taken away from her in some way, if the scars were evidence of something that had forever changed her life. But he didn't dare ask, knowing that she would share that information with him whenever she felt comfortable enough to do so.
Shortly after James noticed this, their food arrived, and Rose forced him to begin answering questions of her own. Naturally, she wanted to hear about what it had been like growing up in an Institute full of so many world renowned heroes, but more than that, she seemed to simply want to know about James himself. And James had to admit that this surprised him ever so slightly. In all the time they'd spent together over the past month or so, they'd spent a lot of it together in silence, simply enjoying one another's company. So he guessed that it made sense that she wanted to learn more about him, but he still had to admit that he hadn't expected that.
Yet despite the surprises that the night was throwing him, James couldn't contain his happiness at the way the night was going. They talked long after they'd finished their food, and James finally suggested that they take a walk around the city which was mostly his way of asking to spend more time with her. Despite himself, James found himself heading toward Central Park, thinking of how beautiful it looked regardless of the fact that Rose wouldn't know one way or another. So in the end, they ended up lying down together in the middle of Central Park, James alternating between gazing at the stars and risking glances at Rose's smile."You're honestly the first person I have ever met who hasn't asked me about my blindness," Rose suddenly said, her voice soft and contemplative. "You can't tell me you're not the least bit curious," she continued, and James could recognize the challenge in her tone.
But he couldn't help but smile at the thought. It might have been a challenge, but James could also tell that it was an innocent one at that, one that was filled with a curiosity of its own. "Of course I'm curious," James admitted, trying to hide his smile from the sound of his voice. "I'm curious about everything about you, Rose. But if I've learned one thing from living with my family, it's that people should be allowed to reveal their stories as they see fit. I may not be the best when it comes to interacting with girls, but I would never want to pry into a past or a story that you're not yet comfortable sharing." When Rose remained silent at first, James almost wished that he hadn't said what he had.
"I was actually born with my vision," Rose said after several agonizing seconds of silence. James stayed quiet, not wanting to push Rose into anything that she didn't want to tell him. "I lost it when I was three," she said, sitting up as she did so, turning toward James and revealing that she actually seemed much more relaxed than her voice sounded. "My parents never wanted to live in an Institute because they apparently felt it was too strict and stuffy, so they'd always carefully placed wards and protection around our house. But one night, those wards failed and a greater demon organized an attack with several other demons."
James realized then that Rose's tone was so distant and detached, that she was so relaxed because she seemed to understand that her past was simply a part of her that she couldn't change. He was almost jealous of the peace that she seemed to feel. "My parents weren't ready, so they stood no chance against the demon. He wanted something from them, though to this day I still have no idea which greater demon it was or what he wanted. He tortured them for several days, but when they wouldn't give him any information, he resorted to torturing me instead." Rose paused then, and James reached to place his hand on top of hers, trying to show her his support without saying a word.
"His last attempt to get my parents to talk was to pour demon's acid over my eyes." It was then that Rose's voice wavered ever so slightly, and James knew the memories of it were beginning to bother her. "I'm not sure that I'll ever understand what was important enough to my parents to keep it a secret even through all of our torture. The demon killed them and left me for dead, but I was found by a Clave member who'd been dispatched after my parents hadn't shown up for their meeting." Rose smiled softly, and James gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "I was actually healed by your Uncle Ragnor," she continued, and James now understood her smile. "But he couldn't restore my sight as my eyes were far too damaged. The scars that are left still hurt every now and then, but I'm just happy that he was able to help me as much as he did."
At first, James began racking his brain for absolutely anything he could say in response. But then James realized that anything he said would be inadequate. That he couldn't change Rose's past any more than anyone else could, and she already knew how sorry he was, how much it hurt him to hear of her pain. So instead, he asked her the one thing he'd been wanting to ask her for weeks. "Rose? May I kiss you?" he finally asked, and he smiled as he watched the change in her expression. As she'd told him of her past, her face had been blank, but at his question, her expression shifted to one of both surprise and bliss.
The only thing she could seem to do at first was nod, her surprise rendering her speechless for several long moments. But then, before James could react, she finally asked her own question. Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but her tone was genuine, just as her expression was. "Why are you asking my permission?" she said, but James wasn't entirely sure that he really knew the answer to that himself. So instead of trying to form his answer right away, James simply moved to close the distance between them. He didn't want to catch her off guard, so he reached up to gently brush his thumb across her cheek, eventually moving to place his hand under her chin and to ever so softly tilt her face up toward his.
Before James could do anything else, Rose had reached to place both of her hands on the back of his neck, pulling him toward her as she closed the distance between them for herself. At first, James was too surprised to respond in any way as her lips met his, but then he found himself smiling against her lips as he realized that she was ever so slightly too far to the left. The entire gesture was so endearing that James couldn't help but smile as he moved to correct her, not at all upset that she was a bit off, understanding the courage it had took for Rose to even try to kiss him without being able to see him. Yet when James finally responded to her kiss, he forgot about all of that, about everything that was around them, about everything that had been happening at the Institute, about everything that wasn't Rose.
Before James really knew what was happening, he'd completely lost himself in Rose, his entire body sighing in satisfaction. If he had thought before that he couldn't find Rose any more beautiful than he already did, then James knew now that he was dead wrong. There was no hesitation in Rose's kiss, nothing other than the affection that they seemed to share for one another. From the moments they had spent together, James had always thought that they had some sort of connection, but the moment that James kissed her back, he realized that they shared much more of a connection than he'd first cared to admit. And when he finally pulled away from her ever so reluctantly, James could feel the weight of what he was already missing. "I'm sorry," Rose said, her smile contradicting her words.
James couldn't help but chuckle as he moved to stand, reaching down to help Rose up as well. "Rose, I asked your permission because I would never do anything that you didn't want me to. And I do not accept your apology because I do not regret what you did," he said, moving to quickly place a kiss on her cheek before taking hold of her hand and moving to lead the way out of Central Park. "Thank you for sharing your past with me, Rose," he eventually said after they'd walked in peaceful silence for several blocks. "It means a lot more to me than you probably think." Rose simply smiled at that, and James had to admit to himself that her smile was becoming increasingly dear to him.
As they made their way back to their rooms, Rose stopped walking and tugged on James's hand, beckoning him to stop and turn toward her. "I truly hope you enjoyed tonight as much as I did," she said, keeping her voice soft likely because she realized that all of James's cousins would be listening for their arrival. "I can't thank you enough for making me feel as though you see me for me and not for my disability," Rose finished, and James only responded by moving in for another kiss, pulling away only when he grew suspicious of how quiet the hallway was, knowing that falling asleep that night would be terribly hard to do with the feeling of Rose's lips lingering on his. As he fell into bed, James felt guilty for wondering what was going to go wrong next, knowing that there was rarely a peaceful and happy moment in the Institute that wasn't ruined by drama and war. But James pushed that thought aside and let his mind drift into the happiness he was feeling rather than focusing on the impending doom that was hiding in the back of his mind.