Jace Herondale | The Mortal Instruments (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} hatesbergamot) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} madisonvalley,@ 2016-09-28 17:48:00 |
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| Entry tags: | !closed, !log, ~2016 september, ~25 points, ~~clary fray (angel_blood), ~~~jace herondale (hatesbergamot) |
WHO: Clary Fray and Jace Herondale
WHERE: Starbucks
WHEN: After their chat
WHAT: Jace wants to talk.
RATING: PG
STATUS: log; started in gdocs, continued in comments
| It was funny, Clary thought as she waited for Jace with a coffee in hand: dread and anticipation and longing felt so similar. She hadn’t thought so before, she wouldn’t be able to pick out any single one of those feelings as they chased through her. It was almost painful, this missing him; this dread over what he would say. Would he look at her with utter non-recognition as he had when he’d first returned? Would sneer some more at the story she told him? One thing was for sure: he wouldn’t look at her with the love and gentleness that he used to. That she wanted. The thought was enough to make her want to just leave. This was clearly a bad idea to meet him, but if there was a chance that it might somehow bring him back…. Clary had to try. She owed it to herself, and to them. *** Jace couldn’t give Clary what she wanted. He didn’t remember any of the things she’d told him, and although some of them rang true in his heart, he had been unable to confirm anything enough to satisfy himself. Perhaps another long talk with Isabelle was in order, but what he really wanted now, for reasons that he couldn’t quite explain, was to talk to Clary. He had no intention of hurting her, any more than he knew his lack of memories hurt her. But he wouldn’t pretend to feel something he didn’t - that wouldn’t be fair to either of them. He didn’t bother to get a coffee, but slid into the seat in front of her without making a sound, sliding his hands to the table before him. He looked at her for a long moment without saying anything, his golden eyes searching for something in hers. Frustrated, he shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Start at the beginning. How did we meet?” *** It was encouraging that he was asking for details, rather than dismissing the idea of being with her out of hand like he used to. Still, Clary knew better than to hope it meant anything. Hearing about it wouldn’t make him feel it. It wouldn’t make him love her. But maybe it might help him understand why she loved him. “You were hunting an Eidelon demon,” she said after a moment. “You, Isabelle and Alec. I saw her lure it to a back room, and you and Alec killed it. I screamed; you were amazed I could see through your Glamour. No one knew I was Nephilim at the time, and I guess you wanted to know why I could see you, so you found me the next day.” *** Curiosity. That made sense. Jace knew he was a curious young man, and that was something that had gotten him into trouble before - not that he was willing to change that part of himself. And it would have been fascinating to have been caught by a mundane girl in the process of killing a demon. “How did you not know that you were Nephilim?” That was, perhaps, the most important question of what she said. There were very few Shadowhunters in the world who were unaware of the fact. They were a proud people. *** “My mother was in hiding,” Clary said simply. Just talking, recounting what had happened, was bearable. It was when she’d have to start talking about them that was going to be hard. “She’d just stolen the Mortal Cup from Valentine, and she didn’t want him to find her. So she lived as a Mundane, and she raised me as a Mundane. She even had Magnus Bane put a spell on me so I’d forget anything magical I saw. But we missed the appointment to get the spell renewed, and,” she shrugged. “That was the night I saw you.” *** Jace had been listening closely to her words, but suddenly, he wasn’t. His golden eyes were focused on her wrist, on the rune that was drawn there. He looked at it curiously, then reached out to pull her arm closer, wanting to make sure that he wasn’t simply seeing it from an awkward angle that would explain everything. It was a rune he didn’t recognize. And while he hadn’t memorized everything in the Grey Book, he knew enough of them that for him to see one he didn’t know at all was...novel, to say the least. “What is this rune?” *** Clary sucked in a sharp breath when he reached for her. As always, his touch made her tingle, as if he’d run electricity through her. She tried to ignore that sensation, though, and turned her wrist slightly to give him a better angle. “Mindfulness,” she replied, tracing over its shape with her other finger. Her finger brushed his as it passed through the stroke. “It’s not in the Grey Book; I created it.” *** He purposely ignored the feeling when they touched. That was not something he was going to deal with right now, because he didn’t understand it. And it wasn’t important. He refused to think that it was. And indeed, what she’d just told him was…insane and needed to be addressed. “That’s impossible,” he said with a shake of his head. “Nephilim can’t make runes.” *** Clary’s smile was bittersweet. Sometimes she forgot just how much they'd gone through and learned together. “I can. Valentine experimented on my mom when she was pregnant. He fed her angel blood without her knowing it. Result? Me, creating Runes that aren't in the Grey Book.” She pulled out her stele - the one he had given her when he'd arrived in his first incarnation, so long ago - and gave him a challenging look. “Do you want one?” *** Everything that Jace had ever been taught told him that nobody could make runes that weren’t in the Grey Book. Runes were the work of angels, and Nephilim used what they were given - that was all. So he raised an eyebrow skeptically and held out his arm to her, feeling very much that he was calling her bluff and was about to prove her wild claim wrong. “What does this rune do? And how will I know if it works?” *** “It'll give you enhanced smell,” Clary said as she took his hand. She gently spread out his fingers to give herself a better angle on his wrist, but resisted the temptation to linger on the touch, no matter how tempting it was to just take his hand and pretend, just for a moment, that things were back to normal. She kept his hand in hers as she drew a pattern that would be unfamiliar to him. “You'll know it when it works.” *** Jace felt his body wanting to shiver as she touched him, but controlled the impulse. He would not let her see such things until he was in a better place to understand them, and that time was not right now. The slight burn of her stele brought his eyes to the rune she drew. It was true that he didn’t recognize it, but he did…understand it. He felt it as she drew it, and suddenly he was overwhelmed with the smell of shampoo and paint and an unidentifiable smell that could only have been her. He stood suddenly, taking a step back and looking down at her wrist, then looking at her with naked shock in his eyes. “This is a gift,” he said, his voice an almost panicked whisper. *** |