TDA Meets TLH

18: Julian

Emma, Cristina, Mark, and I all stood in the front hall of the Institute, the day after the demon attack, waiting for Consul Penhallow to arrive. I was feeling completely sick over this, and kind of regretting my idea. What if the Consul took Mark? What would we all do then? The kids had been so happy that he was finally back home, only for him to leave again? I wouldn't be able to handle their disappointment, knowing that it was all my fault. I suddenly felt Emma take my hand, and I looked down at her. She was smiling encouragingly up at me.

"Hey, it's going to be okay." She said, comfortingly.

I smiled at her, my spirits lifted. I felt a ache in my chest, to pull her to me, and kiss the living daylights out of her. But I couldn't. I never would be able to, unless we were alone. Everyday I regretted asking her to be my Parabatai. I had literally screwed myself over, and now I was wrecked for life. I couldn't stop loving Emma, as hard as I tried, and by the angel, how I had tried. Every time I saw her, I felt a rush of happiness go through me, and I felt like everything was going to be okay.

"I hope so." I finally replied.

There was then a knock at the door, and I took a deep breath, and opened the door. There stood Jia Penhallow. She looked older, from when I had last seen her. Her black hair was greying, and there were a few more lines in her face. Though, she still looked exactly like her daughter, Aline. She walked in, looking sophisticated and graceful. Her eyes narrowed in on Mark, and she froze.

"How in the angel's name, are you here?" She questioned.

"I was returned from the Wild Hunt." Mark spoke simply.

"How?" Jia demanded.

I then proceeded to explain the whole story to her. I talked about Emma's parents, the convergences, the deal with the Faeries, and about Malcolm Fade. I also told her about the Mantid demons, but she didn't seem too worried about that. Jia listened carefully as I talked, and only spoke when I finished.

"How come the Clave wasn't informed of this, when it happened?" She asked seriously.

Emma hesitated. "We were scared." She admitted. "We were scared because we thought you were going to take Mark away."

"Where is the head of the Institute, shouldn't he be telling me this?" Jia asked.

"He is indisposed, at the moment." I interjected.

Jia looked at me, hard, but did not press me further. She studied Mark again, and he stared back, unwavering.

"Well," She started, finally. "If the Wild Hunt agreed to give you back, then I have no problems with it. Do know, that other Shadowhunters will look down upon you, though, and for that I'm sorry. I don't agree with the Cold Peace."

"Does that mean that Helen can come back home, then?" Emma asked, sounding doubtful.

Jia sighed sadly. "No. I would let her and my daughter come home, but the rest of council does not agree, and I can't make decisions like that on my own. It has to be a unanimous decision."

Everyone else frowned, and I only thanked her for her time and letting Mark stay. Jia then left, and I grinned at Mark. He walked over and embraced me, tightly. Mark then hugged Emma, and then Cristina kissed him, and I smiled at them. Everyone else walked into the front hall, eager to hear the news.

"So? Can Mark stay?" Livvy asked frantically.

"Yes." Mark smiled widely.

Livvy cried out, and hugged him, and so did Dru. Ty hugged him, happily, the disagreement between them now forgotten. I smiled at the two of them. After that, we all went our separate ways. I found myself in my art studio, wondering what to paint. Though, I knew right away, what it was. Emma. It was always Emma. I wanted to paint her every second of everyday, but I knew my paintings could never capture her beauty. No one would ever be able to capture her beauty, that's how beautiful she was.

I grabbed a blank canvas, and began to paint Emma. She was standing on the steps of the Institute, looking down, smiling slightly. She was dressed in black gear, Cortana strapped around her back. When I finished, I stepped back and looked at it. Maybe I would give it to her, one day.

I quickly put it aside to dry, and then as if by coincidence, Emma walked into my art studio. I thanked the angel I had put away the painting, as she smiled at me.

"Hey." She said casually. "What are you painting?"

"Oh, nothing really." I brushed it off. "Just thinking of ideas."

"You should paint me." Emma grinned.

Oh, how funny, I thought.

"Alright." I agreed.

"Paint me like one of your French girls." Emma laughed.

I rolled my eyes at her, amused. "Titanic? Really?"

She shrugged. "Always wanted to say it, it seemed like a good time."

Ten minutes later, Emma was sitting on a stool, posing, and I was painting her. We did this in silence, and I tried my best to replicate the image of her sitting. I started from her face, mastering all the planes and edges, painting in her brown eyes. Her golden hair that I could never get just right, sitting in a braid over her shoulder. It took me about half an hour, but I finally finished the portrait. Emma looked at it.

"Oh Jules, it's beautiful." She whispered.

I smiled. "It's of you. How could it not be?"

Emma only blushed and then kissed me. I kissed her back, wanting to be nowhere else but here.