Luke awoke the next morning to memories of when he and Valentine became parabatai. He had been shocked when Valentine asked. It was not a common ceremony or expected rite of passage. Luke had not grown up wanting a parabatai like some of his classmates, and by his early teens he was having so much trouble he thought he might not even be a Shadowhunter, much less someone's parabatai. He managed by the skin of his teeth before they met.
Valentine's offer to tutor him and his rapid improvement was something of a miracle; he was so grateful. Valentine had been interested in tutoring someone, to hone his own skills, later saying one learns even more teaching, so he asked one of their professors if someone needed help. Luke's name was given and Valentine approached him on his own.
Luke enjoyed their time together but he could see many others felt the same. Valentine had a loyal following. He went out of his way to befriend those struggling in their own ways and Luke recognized the awe when they spoke of him: it mirrored his own. So when he was safe to pass his exams he thought he wouldn't see Valentine much anymore, yet the relationship didn't end. Valentine still asked him to spar, study. They ate meals and Luke was introduced to his closest friends, his inner circle: Robert Lightwood, Maryse Trueblood, Stephen Herondale, Michael Wayland, Hodge Stockweather. And he, of course, introduced Valentine to Jocelyn.
But more and more classmates were being drawn in, hearing Valentine's debates and visions for the Clave. It seemed certain he would make his way to high office and many were inspired, wanting to be there with him. And even still he and Valentine spent time together, even still just the two of them. They were studying in Luke's dormitory one evening when Valentine asked.
They waited a few weeks before telling anyone. Luke was terribly happy, the happiest he could remember being, really. It was a novel experience for him to be the object of such envy, after they did announce their intentions. Valentine had a way of making everyone feel equally important. It was a shock for Luke to be irrevocably singled out.
He still remembered the look on Amatis' face when he told her: surprised, happy, proud even. Valentine never told him as much, but he could tell by the look on his parents' faces they were not equally thrilled, more a reluctant acceptance. They didn't disapprove of him personally but his status. He and Amatis were not from a powerful family, then add on the pity of being orphaned: father killed in combat and mother gone to join the Iron Sisters, leaving a young daughter to look after an even younger son.
The morning of the ceremony Luke had a terrible feeling, ominous. A dream he couldn't quite recall, but it had to do with the ceremony. Amatis found him crying in his bedroom. She asked if he had doubts. It was strange: he was certain he wanted to go through with it, yet he couldn't shake the dread. He was alarming his sister but he couldn't explain. It took him a good hour to regain his composure.
They dressed in light armor and walked arm in arm, just the two of them, to Alicante. They normally did not walk this way, but often had when they were younger, Amatis holding on to him when they went shopping. It was a long walk from their cottage, yet Amatis was rattled and had looped her arm in his. He did not mind.
They met Valentine and his parents outside the Council building. There would be a larger gathering later, at the Morgenstern's, for family and friends. Luke worried Valentine would see something, on his face or in his posture, however he made no sign of it. They made their vows to each other in front of their families and the Council. Then they went alone to a private chamber with one of the Silent Brothers and he started feeling nervous again, at the enormity of what they were doing and at the presence of the Silent Brother. His appearance was disquieting but he was more upset thinking about his mother. She was living a similarly dedicated life. Did she think of him and Amatis? What would she think of this union? Would she even care?
The Brother took them through the rune ceremony, explaining its effects, what it meant, asking if they were sure. They both said yes, they drew the runes, and it was done. The Brother left, telling them to rest a moment. There was a bench and they sat down together. Neither spoke. When they felt up for it, simultaneously they stood and made their way to the hall, to a flight of stairs, deserted. There was a stained glass window and Luke paused, perched midway on a flight of stairs to look at it, a flash of sunlight having caused it to shine. Valentine stopped on the landing ahead, turning back to see why he had stopped.
Their eyes met and Luke had a deep desire to reach out, embrace Valentine around the shoulders. It was not something they did, but the rune burned, his dread only grew, and Luke went ahead with it anyway, crashing into Valentine before he even reached the landing, whose arms in turn caught him and wrapped around like chains.
"No tears, parabatai," he eventually made out, Valentine muttering, belatedly realizing he had started to cry, "for now, I will always be with you." Luke tried to pull away, wipe his face, but Valentine did it for him, thumb across his cheek bone, then pressed his forehead to his to repeat, "I will always be with you."
Road noise brought Luke back to the present. He'd never been able to delude himself into thinking he hated Valentine. However, he hadn't thought of their better moments in a long time. What he remembered instead was the coldness in Valentine's eyes, telling him to leave. Or the madness when they fought. But apparently, these happier memories had been unlocked, all because Valentine said it was not deliberate, at least not the way Luke thought.
He got up and went outside. Get some air, feel the sun, yet was surprised to see a raven perched on the fence that divided his and his neighbor's property. It flew over, landed on the ground and held out its leg, to which a small piece of parchment was bound. Unfurling it, already knowing who it was – Valentine had always been fond of his birds – but it was another uncomfortable blast from the past, to see in his handwriting, "May I call on you tonight at nine o'clock?"
"You Hugin or Mugin?" Luke asked, never able to tell the two apart, before going in to get a pen. He received no answer, only the raven sticking its leg out to receive the message, and once Luke had secured it the bird flew off. He sighed. Much as he had that morning so many years ago – of the parabatai ceremony – he was certain he needed to see Valentine but was uneasy about the outcome.