A New Beginning || Helena and Jean-Pierre
There was still so very little Helena knew about being a mother. She was still very cautious in her actions, careful not to hold little Genevieve too closely or too tightly for she feared sheâd make her feel uncomfortable. Whenever she moved in her motherâs arms, Helena would hold her breath and would, for half a moment, panic because what if she dropped her child? What if, for some reason, her arms would slip and little Genevieve would fall? Whenever her soft pink lids fluttered, Helenaâs heart would skip a beat for fear that her daughter would start crying and she wouldnât know how to comfort her, or give her what she needed. All her life, Helena trained to be prepared for whatever demon could be lurking in the shadows. She was trained to be prepared for anything and that was one of the few things she was very proud of herself. She was quick on her feet when in battle and she was always so attentive. However, nothingâno amount of reading, or adviceâ could have prepared her for motherhood. And that terrified her.
As Genevieve stirred in her arms, her tiny hands closed into fists and her eyes half-lidded as she yawned, Helena couldnât help but marvel at how such a small being could be so beautiful and have such an effect on her. Growing up a Shadowhunter, Helena was taught to value life but to be prepared to lose it any second as well, and she had, for the past six years or so, ever since she received her first Mark, lived by those words. Shadowhunters dealt with death every single day and Helena had been prepared for her own ever since she could remember. But as she held her child and watched as she dreamt, Helena began to value life. Her own because she wanted nothing more than to spend a long, long time with her child and husband. Jean-Pierreâsâ granted, she had always valued his life more than her own. And most of all, her childâs. How she could feel the emotions she was currently feeling was beyond Helena. The protectiveness she felt for her child was beyond anything sheâs ever felt for a Mundane she had to defend from a demon, or a fellow Shadowhunter. She has only felt it for two other people and they were Jean-Pierre and Hana. Helena wanted nothing more than to keep her daughter safe and happy for as long as she would be able to.
She should have been exhausted. The events of the past hour was no small feat. Her hair, although no longer soaked in sweat, was a mess and her face was paler than usual. But Helena was far from tired. While her back felt slightly sore, she barely noticed it as she continued to gently rock her sleeping child in her arms, all the while whispering to Jean-Pierre about how beautiful Genevieve was and how Helena still couldnât quite believe that, after all the waiting, their daughter was finally with them. As she looked up and smiled at Jean-Pierre, she could see the joy on his face that, she thought, no doubt mirrored her own. âI still cannot believe she is real.â she said under her breath as she brought her daughterâs face closer to her own. âShe and I are no longer one but she still feels like such a huge part of me, somehoââ The words died on Helenaâs lips when she heard the sound of the door opening.Â
On the entryway stood the Inquisitor. He was not in the robes Helena had seen him wear during the interrogation after the Clave was informed of her and Jean-Pierreâs relationship, but he still held the authority of a man who was responsible of making sure that Nephilim and Downworlders alike who break the Law are properly punished.Â
"Inquisitor WhitelawâŠ" Helena said, her eyes slightly widened in curiosity as she regarded the Victor Whitelaw.Â
"Mr Highsmith, Missâ Rather, Mrs Highsmith," Victorâs gaze flickered from Jean-Pierre to Helena then to the sleeping child that was in her arms. "Congratulations, I suppose, on the birth of your child. You must know the reason as to why I am here?"Â
"Inquisitor Whitelaw," said Jean-Pierre Highsmith shortly after his spouse, greeting the man who had entered the room and now stood directly before them. He remained sitting on the bed beside Helena who had corrected her posture, no longer leaning on his shoulder but still close enough for him to hold one arm around her while the other helped support their newborn as she continued to sleep soundly. Absentmindedly he continued to play with her tiny fingers, smiling to himself as Genevieve wrapped her hand around his thumb in her sleep. Whatever anxiousness had crept up on him upon the Inquisitors entry was now entirely gone.
Jean-Pierre nodded politely. "Thank you, Inquisitor. And yes," he said as his heartbeat once again sped up, flickering slightly in a mixture of emotions as he looked at Helena -- wondering why he felt as though he was facing the imminent end of himself when he knew that what faced them was in fact what he had been wanting for so long -- searching for the peaceful strength and familiarity he knew he would always find in her gaze. "I believe we know... why."
The Inquisitor brought out a strangely familiar blade from a hilt in his belt. It was truly familiar in a very odd way, Jean-Pierre thought as the shortsword was handed over to Brother Enoch. Although he did not quite know where he had seen it before, everything about it -- the slight curve, the way it looked as though time had taken its toll on it and even the faint inscription along the blade itself -- evoked memories he had stored in the very back of his mind for some time.
"First of all", the Inquisitor began, "You need to understand that you are in an especially individual situation, the nature of which the Clave wishes should remain completely solitary. The two of you are a strict exception, the likes of which will never be seen again, enabled only by the sword in Brother Enoch's hands, and allowed only by such as well as the existence of your daughter.
"Your parabatai bond will be severed." Jean-Pierre involuntarily flinched, feeling as though someone had poured ice-cold despair and panic down his throat. But he shouldn't have. He knew that. It was what they had wanted; it was the only way they could be a family and even though he cherished their parabatai bond so deeply he forced himself not to think of it because he knew that their love, the other bond they shared was even stronger and more so, the one the Angel had surely intended for them. The ceremony of their marriage was the one they had chosen, and they could not have both. He had no regrets whatsoever.
The Inquisitor continued. "I am not at liberty to discuss the nature of this procedure. I will, however, inform you of the formalities.
"Once your bond has been severed, any and all records of the two of you being parabatai will be permanently destroyed, and any attempt to document what happened when you were brought before the Clave as well as the events that are about to take place in this room will be considered a criminal offense. This is of utter importance for the sake of future generations.
"Another thing you may know is that the Clave knows that the... method used to safely separate the two of you is only good for one use, and therefore you should consider it an enormous privilege. There are many who would have paid a great price to be in your position. Is that understood?"
