Jace & Clary | Clace

Five

Jace Herondale watched Isabelle Lightwood trying to cook and he grimaced inwardly.

The kitchen was a complete mess, there were pots and pans everywhere, and he couldn't tell what it was she was trying to make.

Jace had become thinner in the few days he had been living at the Institute and his stomach growled with hunger.

After the summoning of the lesser demon at Magnus Bane's apartment, Clary had disappeared, leaving Jace with Isabelle; and Isabelle had little time for him because she was always busy herself.

Clary had reacted to something the demon had said, something about Angel blood flowing through Jace and someone named Valentine.  Magnus and Alec had gone quiet and Clary had left the apartment in a hurry.

"Basically."  Magnus had explained to Jace, rubbing his chin slowly,  "You have a target on your back."

"Brilliant." Jace muttered.

"No, not brilliant."  Magnus assured him. 

"Don't worry, Jace."  Said Alec.  "We won't let anything happen to you, and we'll train you."

Tessa, being a new mother again, was also busy, but she sent Jace messages constantly checking up on him:  Have you eaten?  Did you sleep?  Are you ok?  Jace sometimes laughed when the messages popped up one after the other.

His responses to her were always the same: Yes, yes and yes.

Mostly, though, he was alone.  Jace wandered around the Institute, reading and studying or tinkering with the piano.  Simon had learned to play the guitar, and Jace had learned to play the piano, and on sleepless nights at the Institute he played until early morning at times, falling asleep on the keys until Isabelle woke him up gently.

He never slept peacefully.

Now, Jace sat with his chin in his palm watching as Isabelle tossed whole onions and tomatoes into a pot of water.

"I think you're supposed to chop those first." Jace suggested.

"Are you a chef?"  Isabelle shook her head.  "No.  I have it under control, trust me."

The kitchen door creaked open and Clary strolled in.

Jace sat up.

Clary moved towards Isabelle, whispered something to her and Isabelle nodded, looking serious.

Then Clary glanced at Jace, and she couldn't help but smile at him.

She had felt wretched leaving him, but there were personal things she needed to sort out and to understand.  The mention of Valentine the other night had caught her off guard, and to think of the things he had done to Jace...  Jace's parents...  

She noticed immediately how gaunt he looked.  His eyes were brighter, if possible, his hair longer, and he looked tired from lack of sleep.  She wanted to ask him if he was ok...  This life wasn't meant to be a punishment, it was hard, true, and she had brought him to it and all but abandoned him.

"Training begins, Herondale."  She said in greeting instead.

He followed Clary and was all too happy to be doing something, anything, other than watching Isabelle brewing some inedible concoction in the kitchen. 

Jace had been in the training room before and after he dressed in the black training gear, Clary motioned him to the center of the large room.

He looked wild and beautiful in the black, and she was certain sunlight actually lived in him and that he could warm you with that light, let you bask in the brilliance of it until you could not be without it.

She distinctly remembered the shock of his skin against hers, simply by holding his hand, the shock of pleasure it had been.

Sunlight.

And Angel fire. 

Clary looked away.

"You're training me?" Jace asked.  She was so... small, and -  

Clary threw a pair of black training gloves at him.  "Don't worry, I'll cut you down to size."

She was not joking, and he realized quickly that he had misjudged her.

She was small, but she was very fast and very skilled, and she was strong, and in each training session, as the days blended together, she pushed Jace till his muscles burned.

Jace picked up pointers from her, listened to her instructions, but he never raised his hand or weapon against her, he looked at her and he just couldn't imagine doing it.

She yelled at him that they were warriors, that he should fight her, and he yelled back that she was insane.

Clary knew he was holding back.  He moved very well and in truth she feared for the person or thing that came up against him in a real fight.  There was so much strength in him when he threw a blade or a shuriken, his aim was always frighteningly precise.  But he was guarded, never making any attempt to attack her or advance on her with any weapon.  All he did was block her advances till they were both physically exhausted.

Clary tried not to spare him, pushing him to heights she knew were unrealistic, but he never complained, he never showed any frustration, and the more they trained the more his pain became her pain.

The more time she spent with him, the more time that she watched him, the more distracted she became: the beauty of his face and the movements of his body.  

She observed him when he was still, how solemn he appeared, standing tall and still like a statue, strong and wondrously magnificent, cut from cold hard granite.  He looked like someone rarely amused by life, and yet he would glance at her and he would smile.

And because she had become too aware of him, Clary realized that she could no longer be his teacher.  Each day the thought of hurting him made her sick.  She lifted her weapons against him half-heartedly, spending more time teaching him Shadowhunter history, drawing Iratze's and using Angel names.  

With him everything was quiet, and the world seemed uninhabited.   

This was not good.

One afternoon during physical training, as dusk fell outside, Clary shouted, "Stop!" She shook her head in frustration. "Jace..."  When he didn't reply she frowned, "You're not helping yourself.  I can't tell them you're ready to go out there if you only give me half of you."

"I'm trying."

"No."  She countered, "You're not.  Are you tired?"

"No."  He said.  Jace's eyes were narrowed, trying to read her.

"Are... are you afraid you'll hurt me?"  Clary's voice was low.

"More than anything."  Jace replied.

Clary's breath caught, and she nodded with understanding. I'm afraid to hurt you too.  Instead she said, "I'll ask Alec to train you from now on, ok?"

He nodded.  "I'm sorry.  You were a great teacher though."

Clary smiled slightly, "I know."  Her face turned serious as she added, "Jace, when you're out there though, and those things are coming at you, you have to mean it.  You can't ever hold back, because they certainly don't."

"I won't."

They gazed at each other for a moment, then Clary reached forward slowly, and she noticed Jace tense.  He kept his eyes on her face as she reached for a lock of his hair and run it between her fingers.  "You need a haircut."  She observed quietly.  "I can give you one if you like, meet me in the greenhouse?"