Two halves, one love.

“Shh, my love. There is nothing to forgive,” she whispered, her eyes falling to a close. “Just give me time.” Time to enjoy the pleasures of marriage with Jem, time that was exclusively theirs before the duties of motherhood would claim her again. And most importantly, time to steel herself against the sorrows her future would bring in fulfilling his request. 

“I love you, Jem. There is nothing I would not do for you,” and with those words, she claimed his lips in a soft, but passionate kiss. 

He could hardly believe he had just asked this of her. He wished he could be selfless and not require anything but their love, but he had sacrificed all his needs and wants for so long--he had given up on his dreams over a century ago--that he could not resist a request.

“And I love you, but you must not do this for me. You must do this for y--” He was cut off by the kiss, but it seemed to awaken something in him.

Leave it to Will to burst into song in the middle of a bridge where many Londoners were hurrying back and fro to sell their goods to the people passing by. Amused as she was, Tessa found herself looking around to see who might have heard. Today, she had not bothered to glamour herself into a woman suiting her husband’s age and after that musical intermezzo, she feared it might have been the wrong decision to make. 

Quirking an eyebrow at his wife, Will sighed with exasperation at her statement.

“Do not take the reference of a mare to heart, my dear. A mare is a powerful and noble beast who never sits idly; not only that, but she gives birth standing upright and is full of attitude. To underestimate the compliment is to underestimate the the mare; at least I did not refer to you as a duck.”

Tessa reached out gently and traced her fingers along the patterns, utterly reverent and in silent admiration of such a rich history. She wished she had more than her angel to remember her mother by. But then her angel did give her strength, just like this did with Jem. A soft smile spread across her face as she locked gazes with the Shadowhunter in front of her. Tessa wished she could reach out and trace the loveliness of his features as she did the cane, but she refrained. Instead, she whispered,  “Your mother sounded like a very wise woman. Loving, too.” 

She never took is in any affronted manner, but his added statement did make her heart skip a beat as she felt herself being drawn in impossibly more by the unwavering gentle kindness in his silvery eyes. Yet, she said nothing in turn. She would always strive to keep him upright, to catch him should he fall and already, Tessa was fiercely protective of the boy. But no declarations had been made and she did not wish for him to think badly of her by seeming too straightforward in her affections. 

“So do all Shadowhunters carry weapons with such…historical value?” she questioned, quick to distract herself from her own desires in favor of learning more about the world she had been thrown into so violently and unexpectedly.

He listened quietly to Tessa, his cane cupped in his hand as he calmly sat across from her. He was so intrigued by her curiosity and always found it a joy whenever she expressed interest in either of his cultures. It wasn’t the same as when he was with Will, who would look at the fragility of him as though he was an expensive piece of China. Tessa was a newcomer with much to learn and he would be more than happy to oblige her.

“Not all. Some do not embrace heritage and pass down treasures of their legacies, but some do. I just wish that I would someday have an heir to pass this along to.” He remarked solemnly, but he immediately smiled at her again and pushed those thoughts aside.

“You must train with misericords and daggers because it is advised and required by the Clave to have the an Institute’s occupants--Nephilim or not--trained in several forms of combat. It is true that you must find the extension of yourself, but sometimes you will be disarmed and must resort to another weapon. What then will happen to you without the proper training?” He asked, and where Will would joke and mock about this concept, Jem was completely serious.

However, at Tessa’s inquiry Jem chuckled and again smiled brightly at her.

Will pushed back the solemn thought that lingered on his mind and instead broke out into song. He kept his arm locked with hers, swinging it as much as he could.

♪ She’s as fast as a hare, or is she a mare? I am merely the tortoise over there! I don’t know, I don’t care! All I wish is to share how quite rare is she, my gorgeous hare (or is she a mare?)! ♪

After a pause and a glance at Tessa, Will resumed a gentlemanly composure. 

She squeezed his hand with a hint of impatience. The loving gesture was appreciated, but would not do as a means to distract her, Tessa decided as she leaned in impossibly closer, allowing her body to touch his on top of the covers. 

Tessa struggled not to close her eyes at the gentle caress, and simply gazed back, grey meeting obsidian in silence. Of course, she wished to call out his name, urge him on, but where that once might have worked with Will, Jem might lose his train of thought and she most definitely did not desire to wait in such agony for much longer. 

When he finally spoke, the relief she felt was immense, but short-lived. He could not truly be asking what she thought he was, could he? Did he wish for…a child?

When Tessa had still believed herself to be barren, being a warlock, she had been struck by such unbelievable sadness, but it faded to nothing in comparison to the grief that came with the actual loss of a child. Once, she had run to Paris to spare herself that pain, and even then, it could not lessen the agony. Will. James. Lucie… A whole family gone in the blink of an eye. A mortal lifetime passed so quickly. 

 “Would it make you happy?” she finally asked, swallowing thickly once she heard the shakiness in her own voice. Tessa could think of nothing else to say, to ask even. She had given Will a chance at the family life. Could she really refuse Jem then? How would that be fair? And yet, fear made her heart race as she stared up into his eyes, unable to turn away from him now. 

“My happiness equates to yours, Tessa.” He said quietly as some of his hair tumbled on to his cheeks.

“I like it, too,” she admitted with a smile that reached her eyes as she stared into his dark ones. Tessa had expected him to fall silent, Jem never being one for many words, but she listened in rapture when he continued. Especially, because she so desperately needed to hear these words after all the years of yearning and hoping. 

At his gesture, her hand went to the pendant that spoke of their love once more and she caressed the smooth stone gently. How often had she done the same thing, either with nerves in need of reassurance or simply out of loneliness and getting lost in memories nearly as old as her. A small sigh of relief escaped her, knowing that he wished for the same happy life as she did. But then what was the source of his concern, his uncertainty? Tessa didn’t understand what might be so horrible that he did not dare to ask her. Her, who had known him best for over a century and had never forgotten the simplest of details that made Jem who he was. Every part of him was as familiar to her as if it were just another part of her. 

“Just ask, Jem. Nothing you could ask of me could make me turn away from you. Nothing.”

And yet here she was attempting to force this out of him. Perhaps it was not too selfish to ask after all. He met her eyes and gave her a small smile as recompense for his suspense. He let go of one of her hands and brushed his fingers along her cheek, pushing back some stray hairs so that he could see her clearly.

“In my union with you, I wish to have something more. Normally I would forsake myself of selfish tendencies aside from the most extreme of cases. This is one of those extreme cases, Tessa.” 

Jem took a breath before continuing.