West of Words (Alec Lightwood)

🗝 Chapter Thirty-Three 🗝

Three hours later, and Varian was happy for the energy replenish potion more than anything else, and maybe thermos'.

He left the flat in the same way that he had arrived, with a wave of his hand and a portal-door that took him directly inside the Institute. His shoulder weighted down by the books that he had brought with him, though few in number, the knowledge that each carried would help in finding Jace Wayland, or so he hoped.

"And what are you doing here Warlock?"

Varian flinched without meaning too, unconsciously turning away from the voice of Maryse Lightwood and acting like he had not heard her, despite the obvious fact that he had in fact heard her. He continued through the Institute, ducking his head as though he could disappear into the fake blue of his hair, as if it could provide him protection in a room of prejudice Shadowhunters.

"Alec." Varian breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the Shadowhunter that he had begun to think so fondly of.

He picked up the pace, the clacking of heels behind him slowed, signaling that the matriarch of the Lightwood family had stopped following him, though the anger of him being there followed him as he crossed the threshold into the training room.

Alec was punching in strong arks against the hanging practice bag, the olive green of frustration seemed to dull with every punch. It was his way of re-gaining control of his emotions, and from what limited interaction he had with someone that had such lax control with their emotions, it meant that Alec had just lost control and snapped at someone.

Varian stopped a foot or so away, just outside the usual wingspan of someone Alec's height and size.

"Alec." Varian's voice was firmer this time, he was trying to break Alec out of whatever trance that he was caught in, and was successful.

The Shadowhunter whipped around, and Varian was glad to be outside of his reach, as a stray punch came flying in his direction. Alec looked immediately remorseful, lifting his hands in a way that told Varian he meant no harm.

That was the only thing Varian could be entirely sure of these days; that the Shadowhunter standing in front of him would not harm him, no matter the situation.

Varian smiled lightly, "I've got some books that might be able to help, but otherwise, I have already begun to speak to my," he paused, weighing the word internally before speaking, "contacts in the Downworld, people who have promised their help to me."

"That's good, that's good." Alec nodded, almost distracted as he unraveled the tape on his knuckles. "I just want him found." He spoke over a yawn.

Varian steps forward, readjusting the grip he had on his thermos before offering it to Alec. "Drink, it'll help."

Alec didn't even question what was being offered to him, and Varian felt himself swell with happiness as he realized the man trusted him so much. He grimaced at the taste, before taking another sip.

Varian didn't even try to hide how much he liked the way Alec's muscles moved under the tight Henley that he was wearing, a light blush coating his cheeks as he brought himself to look away. He took the thermos back, taking a sip for himself, and motioning towards the bench beside him.

Alec took a seat on the bench, blinking twice as Varian took a seat on the floor by his feet, crossing his legs in almost a child like way as he started to pull the books from his shoulder bag.

"This ones the most promising." Varian muttered, passing the book up to Alec while he continued to work on pulling the rest of the books out. "It's mostly in Chthonian, but a few passages are translated in the margins."

Varian missed the smile that Alec gave him, his concentration on pulling another heavier book out of the bag.

"This less so, but it's in English majorly." Varian paused, opening the book and shaking his head, "Actually it's in Latin, sorry."

"I can read Latin." Alec assured, setting the Chthonian book on the ground beside Varian and accepting the Latin one instead. "Part of my training in Idris."

That was a moment of sudden realization for Varian.

They were raised on the opposite sides of the universe, or so it felt. Alec Lightwood with his Shadowhunter training in Idris, learning to kill and handle Downworlders from a young age, and Varian learning to control his Warlock magic with his baba  while traveling the world.

Varian was in a vulnerable possession, his legs all tucked up underneath him, his shoulder pressed against the bench. Alec had the high ground, and under any other circumstance, Varian would have not allowed it. But there was an amount of comfort that Varian felt with Alec. As if he could let down his walls for just a little while and breathe easy with no concern for his safety because someone else had his back.

The man sitting on the bench above him had been trained to kill Downworlders since basically birth, albeit rogue ones, but Downworlders nonetheless, and Varian couldn't be any more at ease.

"Varian," Alec's voice was soft, he didn't reach to touch the Warlock, as if worried about messing with his concentration. "What about this?"

Varian looked up at him, his head lifting so suddenly his eyes wide in wonder. He poked his head over the cover of the book, lifting slightly on his legs to hold himself higher.

The spell in question was dangerous, and for one brief moment, Varian realized the Parabatai bond must be strong between Alec and Jace, because only someone like Jace would choose a spell so reckless.

"No." Varian shook his head firmly, his right hand coming to rest on the bench beside Alec in a way of steadying himself, his left flitted across the page, pointing at various words as he did. "That is mortem  it means 'death' and that is laboriose  it means 'painfully', so no."

Alec hummed, and Varian could tell he didn't want to take no for an answer.

Varian started to say something else, almost feeling an obligation to explain why he was so insistently saying no, but the attack alarms started to blare, and all previous conversation was forgotten.