igrab
in
grabi_hands
† Boadicea • Will/Tessa/Jem
Boadicea
Will/Tessa/Jem
‡ 2.5k
‡ spoilers for Clockwork Prince
Wrong, wrong, wrong. She knew it, he knew it; they all knew it. Except, perhaps, Jem himself.
I just hope for different things than you, he'd said, and was this what he meant? Tasting love, before death. But could it really be called love when there was something so horribly wrong with it?
She loved Jem. She did. Desperately. But he wasn't the only one in her heart, and that knowledge was eating her up from the inside out.
†
Jem, of course, knew. He wasn't stupid, and he was intimately connected to both his parabatai and his wife - how could he not know? But it was sweet, what they were doing for him. He just worried that if he told them, she'd leave. That she felt she had to have one or the other.
Jem was dying and selfish; he wanted them both.
Finally, the pain in his chest was too much to bear, and he sought Will out. It was the middle of the night but that stabbing ache was what had woken him, so he knew Will couldn't be asleep. Pining, most likely - one of his Byronic fits. It felt different, this time, though. Ever since -
Ever since the warehouse, or just after, when Will had disappeared and Jem had felt like an enormous weight lifted off his chest and he knew, he just knew, that something had happened. Something had changed, in his William, and he was gratified to see it in person not all that long after, saw it in the cracked, giddy joy behind Will's eyes. He didn't know the details. He'd just known that Will was, for the first time since Jem had known him, well and truly happy.
That was what drove him to do it, he thought. He would never have had the courage otherwise; he hadn't even had the courage to tell her how he felt until his wretched passions took over, because of Will. Always because of Will. He was the catalyst of everything that was good inside of Jem.
He had known, then, and he'd initially assumed that something had happened with Tessa in the infirmary, and that was the cause of Will's joy. So he was reckless, recklessly selfish, because Will made him feel so lonely sometimes. And Tessa was beautiful. And he couldn't lose her. He couldn't. Life had been so unfair to him, and he had accepted it, all of it. Could he have this one selfish request?
Yes, God said, you can. And Tessa said yes. She said yes.
He was ebullient that day, distracted enough to miss the signs, so that when he heard the carriage and, not much later, felt a stabbing, horrible pain in his chest, he wasn't prepared for it. He fell, actually, right down to his knees and he shook, his eyes filling with tears for the one dearer to his heart than anything.
Oh, Will, he thought. I'm sorry, Will. I'm so sorry. I love you, Will, but I'm running out of time.
†
It was the middle of the night, and William Herondale was inconsolable.
He got into black moods like this every now and then, and while it was incredibly dramatic and romantic to playact, it was really not all that funny when you were in the middle of it yourself. Often it was because of Jem, more often because of the supposed curse - and lately, because of Tessa.
But now it was both. All three. Tessa, Jem. The curse that had eaten so much of his life. Jem.
Jem deserved this, he knew that, and that was what made it all the more horrible to be upset over. It was the worst feeling, knowing that the most precious, beautiful, godly person was dying and there was nothing you could do but love them as fiercely and desperately as you were able - and to still feel lonely.
That was what he felt, truly. He was bitterly, achingly lonely. He had given up everything for a curse that didn't exist, all but Jem - and what did his one beautiful sin do? Take the only one to ever come close. Take the most perfect girl in the world. Take the one thing Will wanted for his own - taken by the one person who truly needed her.
And Will missed them both like a knife wound.
But then - the door opened, and his head jerked up - only one person had the key, unless Tessa had filched it from her husband, which he wouldn't put past her. But no. It was Jem.
"Hello," Will said, feeling completely out of place and wondering, oddly, if he looked as wretched as he felt.
"Hello," Jem whispered.
The silence stretched out between them, but suddenly Jem sighed, closed the door, and crawled up on Will's bed.
"What-"
But Jem hushed him, pushed his blankets around until he could find Will's lap, and then he just - folded himself into his arms, the way he used to do when they were younger.
"I love you terribly," Jem muttered, his voice muffled by Will's shirt.
"And I you," Will murmured, letting out the breath he'd been holding. "Stupidly. Ridiculously. More than I've ever loved anyone."
Jem quirked a small smile up at him. "Even Tessa?"
†
Will's face went deathly pale. "...You knew," he whispered, as he saw the look on Jem's face. "By the Angel - how long have you known?"
"I know you better than I know myself," Jem murmured, his voice soothing. "How could I not know? Our souls are knit together, Will."
"Christ." His head drooped into his clutching, vicelike fingers. "Of course you knew. Stupid. To think I could hide anything from you."
"You've hid something," Jem pointed out. "For years. Years and years. You've hid something from me, and I've never asked. Not once. Not even when I knew it was eating you up from the inside out. And I was there for you, even when you didn't know it."
Will's eyes were wide and round. "...You would play - "
"Tchaikovsky," Jem murmured. "Concerto in D. Usually the Canzonetta, or - "
"Beethoven." Will swallowed, still staring at his friend. "Pastorale. I know that one."
Jem smiled softly, and everything - all of Will's unfair unvidictiveness, his hopeless longing, all of it fell away like a breath of fresh air. "I played them for you. For this," and he touched Will's chest just over his heart, "and this." And he touched his own.
"And he l-loved him as he l-loved his own soul," Will stuttered, voice cracking.
"Yes," Jem said. "Now. Let's talk about Tessa."
†
And Will went white again. "I'm sorry," he said, in a rush. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry that I love her, you deserve her, you deserve all the best and finest things in the world and you don't deserve a terrible, jealous, parabatai - "
But Jem stopped him, with a hand over his mouth. "Will. Shh. Stop that. When will you believe that you're as beautiful as she is?"
Will stopped. He swallowed. What in the Angel's name - "Jem."
"You're beautiful, William Herondale. Inside and out."
No. No. He couldn't - there was nothing to hide behind anymore. No curse to point fingers at, he could finally be himself and shouldn't he be happy? Yes, well, he'd been happy to be himself for her, he'd just. Forgotten there was more to it than that.
"I don't understand," he whispered. "What - "
"It's okay," said Jem. "She loves you as well, I know it. And we simply must sort this out before we waste any more time feeling lost without each other."
Will opened his mouth. He closed his mouth. There were so many feelings running through his head that he didn't know what to do with them. "I'm sorry?"
Jem sighed. "Have I ever told you you're very aggravating?"
"Daily," Will said. "But you're married."
"And we're parabatai. What does that make you and Tessa, nothing? Don't be ridiculous, Will. We all complete each other. And..."
Will swallowed thickly, he had a feeling he wouldn't like what was coming - a feeling like a shadow over his heart, the feeling he got whenever Jem brought up the inevitable fact of his death.
"...The truth is, I don't have much time. For either of you," he clarified. "I can't bear it if you're unhappy, or she's unhappy, and God forbid both of you unhappy, and who's to look after her when I'm gone? Who's to look after you?" He touched his fingertips to Will's cheek. "By the Angel, William. Did you really think I hadn't already planned for that?"
He couldn't, he couldn't have this conversation. He would cry. He didn't want to cry; he hated crying in general but all the more so in front of Jem. For the reason he'd just said - it hurt him, when Will was unhappy.
"I'm sorry," Will whispered. "Tessa's right. I'm still hoping."
Jem leaned close, wrapped his thin arms around Will's neck and buried his face in the soft skin there. "And if she is," he murmured. "Then - would we three all ever be able to be apart?"
Will sighed, and knew that Jem had already won. He'd won the second he'd walked in the door, he'd won everything since the day they'd met. As if Will could deny him anything. "I love you," he whispered, letting the tone of his voice convey his acceptance and resignation.
Jem wouldn't leave be. "And?"
"...." He sighed. "And I love Tessa. Heart and soul. As much as I love you, brother mine."
†
Tessa was in the library when they entered, their steps in perfect rhythm, and she felt her heart do a number of things - shiver, squeeze, flip, and warm. She didn't know how to act around both of them anymore. That, in itself, was perhaps the most disorienting thing.
"Tess," Jem murmured, and Will smiled that brilliant smile he reserved for her alone - with none of the pain it had been colored with, these past few months.
"...Will?" Is that you, Will? She was speaking to Jem.
Jem smiled, almost as if he knew what she meant. "Tess. There's something I'd like to talk to you about."
†
They sat up on the window seat while Will paced, close enough to see their faces but politely not listening in. He didn't know what Jem said to convince her. It took a lot less time than it took him to even get his mind around the concept, and Jem gave her a little push off the window seat, to which she stumbled and almost fell and of course Will was there, rushing right in to catch her.
Jem smiled, so brightly.
"Now, I don't mind if you kiss, but please don't let Charlotte or Henry find you, and please don't do anything more than that. Will." He gave him a very stern look. "She's still my wife."
"Til death do us part," she said, and Will could see that she'd meant it lightly, but it settled over them like a shroud. She moved away, and Will let her. It was all right, he realized. He didn't - need her. Not like that, not yet. They would have time. They would have all the time in the world, when Jem was gone.
†
They were as close as they could be, after that. Will even slept with them on occasion, in his armchair, just to watch over his precious angels. They clung to Jem, knowing - knowing that this was what they could give him. Their love, for him and for each other, they could fill him up with warmth and lightness, the way he fit between them as this perfect mortar to their rough-hewn bricks. There were no more black nights pining over Tessa Carstairs, not when Will could walk up the stairs and into Jem's room and talk about books and beauty and see her smile. No more pining over Jem, when Will could hold them both so close and tight and see the love returned in their eyes, and know that - they would be all right. Jem, perhaps less all right, but he was dying, and it was Will and Tessa that had to live without him when he was gone.
It hurt to think of, so they wrapped him in their love as best they could, as if his pure perfect soul had known nothing else.
†
"I'm going to tell it to you plainly," Jem said. "Is that all right?"
"Of course," Tessa murmured, and she was nervous, her hands fiddling with the trim on her dress.
"I know how much Will loves you," he said, "and how jealous he is. No - shh." He caught her hands, stopping her protest before it even began. "It's all right. I've probably known longer than he has. I couldn't bear to drive you away. I know you love him as well, and I do too. Just - hear me out."
Tessa nodded. Her breath was quick and her heartbeat quicker, and something like hope began to fill the upside-down wrongness inside of her.
"I never wanted you for myself. Not entirely. I know I've never had all your heart, but - you've never had all of mine." He tilted his head, indicating Will. "And he's split between us, too. It hurts you, doesn't it? Not to admit to it? Please, Tessa. Please believe me when I say that I'm not offended." He smiled, his eyes downcast. "Rather, were it anyone but Will, then yes. I would be. But - "
He thought for a moment, his head tipped to the side, then said, rather like he was discovering the perfect way to put it - "But you can't love me without loving him, too. We're parabatai. Our souls are one. It's only natural that you should love both together, or neither."
†
Boadicea's final battle was never found, and the cause of her death never confirmed. Tessa liked to believe that she fell in love - not that she gave up what she stood for, or that it made her any less of a warrior because of it. She just felt she had something to protect, now, and when she died it was for the one she loved, not needlessly, but in the name of something better.
Will/Tessa/Jem
‡ 2.5k
‡ spoilers for Clockwork Prince
Wrong, wrong, wrong. She knew it, he knew it; they all knew it. Except, perhaps, Jem himself.
I just hope for different things than you, he'd said, and was this what he meant? Tasting love, before death. But could it really be called love when there was something so horribly wrong with it?
She loved Jem. She did. Desperately. But he wasn't the only one in her heart, and that knowledge was eating her up from the inside out.
†
Jem, of course, knew. He wasn't stupid, and he was intimately connected to both his parabatai and his wife - how could he not know? But it was sweet, what they were doing for him. He just worried that if he told them, she'd leave. That she felt she had to have one or the other.
Jem was dying and selfish; he wanted them both.
Finally, the pain in his chest was too much to bear, and he sought Will out. It was the middle of the night but that stabbing ache was what had woken him, so he knew Will couldn't be asleep. Pining, most likely - one of his Byronic fits. It felt different, this time, though. Ever since -
Ever since the warehouse, or just after, when Will had disappeared and Jem had felt like an enormous weight lifted off his chest and he knew, he just knew, that something had happened. Something had changed, in his William, and he was gratified to see it in person not all that long after, saw it in the cracked, giddy joy behind Will's eyes. He didn't know the details. He'd just known that Will was, for the first time since Jem had known him, well and truly happy.
That was what drove him to do it, he thought. He would never have had the courage otherwise; he hadn't even had the courage to tell her how he felt until his wretched passions took over, because of Will. Always because of Will. He was the catalyst of everything that was good inside of Jem.
He had known, then, and he'd initially assumed that something had happened with Tessa in the infirmary, and that was the cause of Will's joy. So he was reckless, recklessly selfish, because Will made him feel so lonely sometimes. And Tessa was beautiful. And he couldn't lose her. He couldn't. Life had been so unfair to him, and he had accepted it, all of it. Could he have this one selfish request?
Yes, God said, you can. And Tessa said yes. She said yes.
He was ebullient that day, distracted enough to miss the signs, so that when he heard the carriage and, not much later, felt a stabbing, horrible pain in his chest, he wasn't prepared for it. He fell, actually, right down to his knees and he shook, his eyes filling with tears for the one dearer to his heart than anything.
Oh, Will, he thought. I'm sorry, Will. I'm so sorry. I love you, Will, but I'm running out of time.
†
It was the middle of the night, and William Herondale was inconsolable.
He got into black moods like this every now and then, and while it was incredibly dramatic and romantic to playact, it was really not all that funny when you were in the middle of it yourself. Often it was because of Jem, more often because of the supposed curse - and lately, because of Tessa.
But now it was both. All three. Tessa, Jem. The curse that had eaten so much of his life. Jem.
Jem deserved this, he knew that, and that was what made it all the more horrible to be upset over. It was the worst feeling, knowing that the most precious, beautiful, godly person was dying and there was nothing you could do but love them as fiercely and desperately as you were able - and to still feel lonely.
That was what he felt, truly. He was bitterly, achingly lonely. He had given up everything for a curse that didn't exist, all but Jem - and what did his one beautiful sin do? Take the only one to ever come close. Take the most perfect girl in the world. Take the one thing Will wanted for his own - taken by the one person who truly needed her.
And Will missed them both like a knife wound.
But then - the door opened, and his head jerked up - only one person had the key, unless Tessa had filched it from her husband, which he wouldn't put past her. But no. It was Jem.
"Hello," Will said, feeling completely out of place and wondering, oddly, if he looked as wretched as he felt.
"Hello," Jem whispered.
The silence stretched out between them, but suddenly Jem sighed, closed the door, and crawled up on Will's bed.
"What-"
But Jem hushed him, pushed his blankets around until he could find Will's lap, and then he just - folded himself into his arms, the way he used to do when they were younger.
"I love you terribly," Jem muttered, his voice muffled by Will's shirt.
"And I you," Will murmured, letting out the breath he'd been holding. "Stupidly. Ridiculously. More than I've ever loved anyone."
Jem quirked a small smile up at him. "Even Tessa?"
†
Will's face went deathly pale. "...You knew," he whispered, as he saw the look on Jem's face. "By the Angel - how long have you known?"
"I know you better than I know myself," Jem murmured, his voice soothing. "How could I not know? Our souls are knit together, Will."
"Christ." His head drooped into his clutching, vicelike fingers. "Of course you knew. Stupid. To think I could hide anything from you."
"You've hid something," Jem pointed out. "For years. Years and years. You've hid something from me, and I've never asked. Not once. Not even when I knew it was eating you up from the inside out. And I was there for you, even when you didn't know it."
Will's eyes were wide and round. "...You would play - "
"Tchaikovsky," Jem murmured. "Concerto in D. Usually the Canzonetta, or - "
"Beethoven." Will swallowed, still staring at his friend. "Pastorale. I know that one."
Jem smiled softly, and everything - all of Will's unfair unvidictiveness, his hopeless longing, all of it fell away like a breath of fresh air. "I played them for you. For this," and he touched Will's chest just over his heart, "and this." And he touched his own.
"And he l-loved him as he l-loved his own soul," Will stuttered, voice cracking.
"Yes," Jem said. "Now. Let's talk about Tessa."
†
And Will went white again. "I'm sorry," he said, in a rush. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry that I love her, you deserve her, you deserve all the best and finest things in the world and you don't deserve a terrible, jealous, parabatai - "
But Jem stopped him, with a hand over his mouth. "Will. Shh. Stop that. When will you believe that you're as beautiful as she is?"
Will stopped. He swallowed. What in the Angel's name - "Jem."
"You're beautiful, William Herondale. Inside and out."
No. No. He couldn't - there was nothing to hide behind anymore. No curse to point fingers at, he could finally be himself and shouldn't he be happy? Yes, well, he'd been happy to be himself for her, he'd just. Forgotten there was more to it than that.
"I don't understand," he whispered. "What - "
"It's okay," said Jem. "She loves you as well, I know it. And we simply must sort this out before we waste any more time feeling lost without each other."
Will opened his mouth. He closed his mouth. There were so many feelings running through his head that he didn't know what to do with them. "I'm sorry?"
Jem sighed. "Have I ever told you you're very aggravating?"
"Daily," Will said. "But you're married."
"And we're parabatai. What does that make you and Tessa, nothing? Don't be ridiculous, Will. We all complete each other. And..."
Will swallowed thickly, he had a feeling he wouldn't like what was coming - a feeling like a shadow over his heart, the feeling he got whenever Jem brought up the inevitable fact of his death.
"...The truth is, I don't have much time. For either of you," he clarified. "I can't bear it if you're unhappy, or she's unhappy, and God forbid both of you unhappy, and who's to look after her when I'm gone? Who's to look after you?" He touched his fingertips to Will's cheek. "By the Angel, William. Did you really think I hadn't already planned for that?"
He couldn't, he couldn't have this conversation. He would cry. He didn't want to cry; he hated crying in general but all the more so in front of Jem. For the reason he'd just said - it hurt him, when Will was unhappy.
"I'm sorry," Will whispered. "Tessa's right. I'm still hoping."
Jem leaned close, wrapped his thin arms around Will's neck and buried his face in the soft skin there. "And if she is," he murmured. "Then - would we three all ever be able to be apart?"
Will sighed, and knew that Jem had already won. He'd won the second he'd walked in the door, he'd won everything since the day they'd met. As if Will could deny him anything. "I love you," he whispered, letting the tone of his voice convey his acceptance and resignation.
Jem wouldn't leave be. "And?"
"...." He sighed. "And I love Tessa. Heart and soul. As much as I love you, brother mine."
†
Tessa was in the library when they entered, their steps in perfect rhythm, and she felt her heart do a number of things - shiver, squeeze, flip, and warm. She didn't know how to act around both of them anymore. That, in itself, was perhaps the most disorienting thing.
"Tess," Jem murmured, and Will smiled that brilliant smile he reserved for her alone - with none of the pain it had been colored with, these past few months.
"...Will?" Is that you, Will? She was speaking to Jem.
Jem smiled, almost as if he knew what she meant. "Tess. There's something I'd like to talk to you about."
†
They sat up on the window seat while Will paced, close enough to see their faces but politely not listening in. He didn't know what Jem said to convince her. It took a lot less time than it took him to even get his mind around the concept, and Jem gave her a little push off the window seat, to which she stumbled and almost fell and of course Will was there, rushing right in to catch her.
Jem smiled, so brightly.
"Now, I don't mind if you kiss, but please don't let Charlotte or Henry find you, and please don't do anything more than that. Will." He gave him a very stern look. "She's still my wife."
"Til death do us part," she said, and Will could see that she'd meant it lightly, but it settled over them like a shroud. She moved away, and Will let her. It was all right, he realized. He didn't - need her. Not like that, not yet. They would have time. They would have all the time in the world, when Jem was gone.
†
They were as close as they could be, after that. Will even slept with them on occasion, in his armchair, just to watch over his precious angels. They clung to Jem, knowing - knowing that this was what they could give him. Their love, for him and for each other, they could fill him up with warmth and lightness, the way he fit between them as this perfect mortar to their rough-hewn bricks. There were no more black nights pining over Tessa Carstairs, not when Will could walk up the stairs and into Jem's room and talk about books and beauty and see her smile. No more pining over Jem, when Will could hold them both so close and tight and see the love returned in their eyes, and know that - they would be all right. Jem, perhaps less all right, but he was dying, and it was Will and Tessa that had to live without him when he was gone.
It hurt to think of, so they wrapped him in their love as best they could, as if his pure perfect soul had known nothing else.
†
"I'm going to tell it to you plainly," Jem said. "Is that all right?"
"Of course," Tessa murmured, and she was nervous, her hands fiddling with the trim on her dress.
"I know how much Will loves you," he said, "and how jealous he is. No - shh." He caught her hands, stopping her protest before it even began. "It's all right. I've probably known longer than he has. I couldn't bear to drive you away. I know you love him as well, and I do too. Just - hear me out."
Tessa nodded. Her breath was quick and her heartbeat quicker, and something like hope began to fill the upside-down wrongness inside of her.
"I never wanted you for myself. Not entirely. I know I've never had all your heart, but - you've never had all of mine." He tilted his head, indicating Will. "And he's split between us, too. It hurts you, doesn't it? Not to admit to it? Please, Tessa. Please believe me when I say that I'm not offended." He smiled, his eyes downcast. "Rather, were it anyone but Will, then yes. I would be. But - "
He thought for a moment, his head tipped to the side, then said, rather like he was discovering the perfect way to put it - "But you can't love me without loving him, too. We're parabatai. Our souls are one. It's only natural that you should love both together, or neither."
†
Boadicea's final battle was never found, and the cause of her death never confirmed. Tessa liked to believe that she fell in love - not that she gave up what she stood for, or that it made her any less of a warrior because of it. She just felt she had something to protect, now, and when she died it was for the one she loved, not needlessly, but in the name of something better.