A/N: A few bits and pieces that I've been meaning to write… All angst and sorrow, as seems to be my specialty. ;)
Reaching the edge of the border between the Hunt and the Seelie's temporary position on a patrol, Caspian narrowed his eyes when he heard someone approaching him from the Seelie side. Someone touched his arm, leaning forward to whisper something in his ear; "Did you enjoy our little kiss in the Seelie? Perhaps you'd like another one… I can surely help you with that."
Recoiling at the words, Caspian hissed under his breath, pushing the faerie against a tree, a dagger appearing in his hand. This was the proof that it had really happened. There had always been a part of him that had wondered whether the poison had made him hallucinate, that he'd been delusional, and he'd somehow made it all up. That it was all in his head. It wouldn't be the first thing that was. Clae's smirks had made him feel otherwise though, and now he knew for sure.
On instinct, Caspian's dagger moved dangerously close to the Seelie faerie's face. "Shut up," he growled, "If you touch me again then I'll-..."
"You'll what?" Clae smiled smugly, looking calm in the face of the dagger, undaunted. "You'll kill me? Or hurt me? You know that if you do that, you'll wreck the current peace between the Hunt and the Seelie. Is that what you want? You'll no doubt get punished too," he taunted, his voice remaining smooth.
Caspian's eyes narrowed further, although he didn't move the dagger closer, hesitating. "Maybe it would be worth it," he muttered under his breath, although he didn't really mean it, not wanting to screw up everything for the Hunt.
Even if he currently held the position of power, he felt helpless, for he knew the Seelie faerie was right. He was untouchable, unless Caspian wanted to get the Hunt into trouble, and he knew the Hunt could not go up against the Seelie and the Unseelie. There was a tight feeling of anger and frustration in his chest which made it hard to breathe. In the Unseelie, he'd be able to settle such a thing easily. He would not allow such a thing to go unpunished.
"What's going on here? Nothing that needs reporting, I hope."
He'd stalled for too long, and he froze when he heard Aspen's words, pushing Clae away from him. He felt ashamed at his inability to keep his temper in check, and he couldn't meet Aspen's gaze. He did not want to screw up his job, or the trust Aspen had in him, and he found he couldn't speak, embarrassed at his actions. Why was it that the damned Seelie faerie always made him feel embarrassed?
Once Aspen and the Seelie faerie had finished talking, the faerie looked amused, and as he turned back towards the Seelie, he stepped closer to Caspian. Caspian's eyes narrowed, and he tightened his grip on his dagger, although he didn't move. "I bet I'm a better kisser than him. I bet you secretly liked it," Clae whispered under his breath with a sly smile, before continuing on, through the Seelie's territory.
"Go to hell," Caspian muttered in reply, his eyes alight in anger, as he turned away, so that he would not have to watch him anymore.
When Aspen had asked him if he'd initiated it, he'd become defensive. As if he wanted to consort with Seelies or be anywhere near them. He was told he had to deal with it. As if it was that easy. But that was it, wasn't it? Aspen had not understood when he'd tried to explain it to him after the Seelie. Aspen had likely put up with much worse, and Caspian was complaining about this? Maybe it was pathetic, but he did not think he would ever forget the feeling of helplessness and uncomfortableness. Of having his strength drained from the poison and being unable to defend himself. It was not the first time that he had failed to defend himself, even if that was under different circumstances, and his thoughts shied away from it.
The Seelie loved their games, didn't they? The Unseelie were cruel in plain sight. Many called them evil. The Unseelie never bothered to deny it, and at least they were honest about that. But the Seelie were a different kind of evil. One that appeared pretty and innocent, hiding their cruelty behind a carefully constructed smile. They liked to toy with people when no one was watching. To taunt behind nice sounding words, and in whispers. That was why he hated them.
It had taken all his self-control to stop himself from fighting back when Aspen had pushed him. He'd been unable to release his anger in his normal, reckless way, and it burned to be released. To hit him maybe, or to push him back, or even to draw the dagger again. It was like an ache, and he tried to exhale slowly, pushing his hands under his cloak. No, he couldn't let himself take his anger out on Aspen like that. To take away whatever trust was left.
Feeling a mixture of shame, guilt and frustration, he'd eventually left after Aspen did. He'd just have to find a way to 'deal with it.'
After getting back from his meeting with Ethos, Kellan had wandered through the trees, without a destination in mind. If he could go back in time, then perhaps… perhaps he would not have told Ethos of his blood. Then Ethos would not have become more distant, treating him differently and bowing when he left. But even before that, Kellan had been a job to him, had he not? He felt stupid, wishing that he could hide his feelings behind a cool façade as so many other faeries could.
He had never asked to be royalty, and he certainly didn't want to be treated as such. He was much too unworthy, and such responsibility was not one for someone like him. Besides, it seemed that the path of royalty only led to loneliness. Perhaps that was why the Queen always ended up alone. No one could ever be at her level, so how could anyone be worthy? He wondered how she had felt about his father. Why had she had a relationship with a Shadowhunter at all? It was strange, because that was forbidden and taboo, and he wondered whether she had been fond of him, like Kellan had grown fond of someone from another faction. Could there be a chance that he had a similarity to the Queen? That was hard to believe, when he'd always thought they were so different.
Sitting down, he studied the cut on his arm for a moment. Ethos had dirtied his own cloak to stop the bleeding, and he wondered whether he would have done so if Kellan hadn't shared the Queen's blood. Why had he felt the need to tell him?
He felt a tightness in his throat, and he blinked a couple of times, before wiping his eyes. No, he couldn't start crying, or he'd never be able to stop. Inhaling, he blinked a couple more times. What a pathetic Hunt supervisor, unable to control his emotions. Becoming fond of a Seelie. By the angel, what was wrong with him?
Shaking his head slowly, he pushed some curls from his eyes. He had to concentrate on the battle, for his faction – his true family - needed him. He couldn't afford to be fighting the guilt and the disappointment that currently plagued him, and he stood up after a pause. It was best if he got stuck into his work, keeping his thoughts on the looming battle.
If he indeed survived that, then perhaps he could worry about everything else.
A deathly silence had fallen over the Institute, ever since Kellan's death. Their father had not taken it well, retreating into his room for long periods, and Zach supposed he couldn't stand losing another person he cared for. And maybe it was more than that. Kellan had always reminded him of his first love in the Seelie – that Zach had always guessed – and now the link to that world was gone.
Grace hadn't been eating. Or if she had, it had hardly been anything. Swallowing, he carried some pasta he'd made for dinner to her room. He knocked on the door, and like before, there was no answer. "Gracie," he swallowed. "Please. You need to eat something, or you'll be sick. I made you some dinner. Just-… just eat it, please."
Kellan would have known what to do. He had always known what to say and how to make things better. Grace had always adored him, and it was not hard to see why.
Resting his back against the door, he slid down to the ground, putting the bowl down beside him. She'd used a mundane lock, and he might have been able to unlock it with an unlocking Rune, but he knew she'd only yell at him and get more upset. He never knew the right things to say. He'd never been good at talking about things that really mattered.
Closing his eyes, he rested a hand over the faded parabatai Rune on his chest. His brother had died protecting him, and he felt a measure of guilt that would never fade. He had heard it said that Shadowhunters who had lost their parabatai described being able to feel the life leave their partner. It was true, for he had felt it, like a physical pain, and it was the worst feeling he had ever experienced.
Finally, he heard a sob, and he opened his eyes quickly, opening his mouth to speak, although she beat him to it.
"How could you, Zach?" she cried out. "He was your parabatai! You were meant to look out for him. How could you leave him there to die alone?"
Swallowing, Zach stared off into the distance, ashamed. There had been no body for the funeral pyre, and so it had been even harder to pay their respects and to say goodbye to him. They had gone back after the battle of course, but Kellan's body had disappeared, only the blood that had stained the ground remaining. It made him sick to think what might have happened to it. Even if Kellan had wanted them to leave him – to stay safe – it was something he could never forgive himself for. "I know…" he whispered, his voice cracking.
"A parabatai vows to lay down one's life for the other, to travel where the other travels, and to be buried in the same place," Grace quoted, and he could just hear the quiver in his voice.
"I know," he repeated, unable to swallow past the lump in his throat. He would not stop her, for he deserved this. She had been silent for days, and now it was time for her anger.
Her voice finally lowered, and he had to listen carefully to hear it. "… Why couldn't you save him?"
"I'm sorry, Gracie, I'm sorry." Zach had lost count of the number of times he had said that word. Sorry. But it didn't mean anything now, because it could not bring Kellan back. How he wished that Kellan had not helped him – that it had been him instead of Kellan. He would have traded places, how could he not have? "I hope that someday… you can forgive me. Or at least try to." Even if he could never forgive himself.
There was a long pause, and Zach wondered whether she would refuse to say any more. He wouldn't blame her. However, at the sound of a key in the lock, he stood up quickly, turning to face the doorway.
Grace finally emerged, her eyes red as if she'd been crying, and she buried her head in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, tentatively. "I'm sorry," he said again, before brushing some hair away from her face that had stuck there from a stray tear. It was something that Kellan would do, he was sure. "But I promise that you can always come to me, if you need."
She didn't speak, although she nodded and hugged him tighter, and he gazed down at her. She had lost family, even at such a young age. While he knew he would never be a substitute for Kellan, he vowed to always look out for her, to the best of his abilities.