Shadowhunters and Downworlders (15 page)

Unrequited Never Felt So Good

Both Alec and Jace's and Simon and Clary's friendships start the series with a one-sided crush destined to be crushed. Believing you are in love with your best friend is an entirely understandable thing. In real life, the best romances are either built on friendship or quickly grow to include one; otherwise it's all chemistry, no trust and camaraderie. But who hasn't been confused thinking that this person they share so much with might be able to love them in
that way
too? And is there anything worse than someone forcing the issue?

Take Simon and Clary's relationship at the beginning of
City of Bones
, before they meet the Shadowhunters. This earliest incarnation of their friendship almost seems thin and strained—but only because of how strong it later becomes. Yes, they are best friends with a history stretching back to childhood, with great knowledge of each other's quirks and with great affection for one another. But there's also a wall between them, with one side made up of Simon's desire for their relationship to become romantic and the other by Clary's obliviousness at first and then tolerance of that desire. Their friend shorthand is compromised by the fact that one side—Simon—often indicates or says something to the other—Clary—that she isn't fully reading, understanding, or seeing. Until, that is, the issue of Simon's one-sided romantic feelings for Clary is forced.

That finally comes in
City of Ashes
, when these two best friends step over the line and test the make-out waters following the revelation that Clary and Jace are brother and sister. It doesn't quite go how either expects. From the confusion that Clary feels when Simon calls her his girlfriend and it rolls off his tongue so easily, to the underwhelming emotional impact of their kissing on Clary and even how fast Simon falls asleep when she goes to change into her pajamas, we know this can only end in tears. But, instead, because this is a Cassie Clare book, it ends in blood.

When the Queen of Faerie announces that Clary must stay behind because she tasted faerie food, she also offers an out. A kiss, she says, and there's a round robin of combinations proposed—Simon steps up to kiss Clary, and she thinks about how she's not entirely comfortable with the prospect in this situation or any other, a tacit admission that the budding effort at romance isn't going to work. But when Jace and Clary engage in their thinking-of-anything-
but-
England kiss, Simon sees the truth, even if he's not ready to admit it yet either. Hurt, he takes off and gets himself killed. Or, rather, undead. One of the series' most heartbreaking moments is Simon's death scene in Clary's arms, with her last words of “Simon, I love you” and her protective lashing out against Jace when she thinks he might try to kill Simon for good. Her tender insistence that Simon be buried in a Jewish cemetery for his rising, on being there when he claws his way from the ground—those are the moments when it becomes certain that not only will their friendship survive the crash-and-lukewarm-burn attempt at romance but it will be stronger because of it.

For Simon, the realization that this romance is doomed doesn't happen quite so early. The first time he and Clary
are reunited after his transition to being a vampire, he thinks about the threshold toward romance they've crossed as “fragile as a flickering candle flame,” and he also believes that it will be his fault if it breaks and that “something inside him would shatter too, something that could never be fixed.” The good thing is that he's wrong, and by the end of the novel, he's ready to openly acknowledge he'd rather have something real with Clary than a false love affair. He finally understands that what matters is that his and Clary's friendship survives—and it does, and he does. By
City of Fallen Angels
, he's dating Izzy and Maia at the same time, and when he and Clary end a phone conversation with simple declarations of love for each other, Simon reflects that he'd had so much trouble saying those words for so long but “[n]ow that he no longer meant them the same way, it was easy.”

In fact, the scaling of that wall between them—or, more aptly, the smashing it out of the way—is what finally makes Simon and Clary's friendship absolutely unshakable. They understand each other deeply enough that Simon goes along with Clary taking the incredible risk of going with Jace and Sebastian in
City of Lost Souls
, because he knows she'll do it anyway, and this way at least he can be there for her via faerie radio receiver. Clary and Simon's love for each other is epic—once they get the pesky prospect of romance out of the way.

The series' other set of best friends—Alec and Jace—aren't as openly demonstrative as Clary and Simon (read: no making out) but face a similar obstacle. Alec believes he's in love with Jace, despite the prohibition against falling for your
parabatai
, and he has the added worry over coming out. But Jace knows Alec so well that he picks up
on his friend's budding relationship with Magnus when no one else does. And, in a pure Jace fashion, he outs this fact casually in
City of Ashes
, reminding Magnus he's the only warlock they know who happens to be dating one of their friends. When Alec protests, Jace's reaction is confusion. He wants Alec to be comfortable coming clean with him about this and goes so far as to assure him it doesn't matter.

That their friendship survives Jace not getting what a big deal this admission is to Alec—in fact, questioning why it
is
a big deal, directly and cluelessly—is a testament to its strength. Unlike Clary, Jace either hasn't realized Alec's feelings for him yet or isn't comfortable speaking to them. Jace only knows an essential fact about his friend Alec that, of course, doesn't change how he feels about Alec. Painful or not, the revelation that Alec didn't ask for is the first open reassurance Alec receives that maybe he won't lose everything if he's honest with himself and the people around him. Maybe he won't lose Jace. Maybe he'll gain Magnus. By the time Alec and Jace talk about Alec's feelings openly in
City of Glass
, the fact that these two will remain friends is clear. Jace rudely attempts to push Alec away, in a pure Jace-like fashion. He dismisses Alec's crush as existing only because Jace is safe, in that he's not a viable romantic partner. But we know this won't ultimately push Alec away—not in the sense that matters most. Sure, it takes Alec time to announce his feelings for Magnus, but the
real
relationship he has with Jace,
not
the aspirational one, is his first reassurance that the people who love him will accept him as he is. His friendship with Jace is transformational: It helps him admit who he loves.

Once these key relationships are settled—and stronger—for being confirmed as best friends (only) for life, all-new
connections are formed as a result among the other people in their lives. What happens when you're the best friend who doesn't exactly get along with the other people in your favorite Shadowhunter's life? Well, it seems you make friends with them, sometimes by accident.

The unique thing about the Mortal Instruments is not just that the story honors these friendships but that the characters
do too. In a sea of books where characters are often friendless until they lock eyes with someone hot across a crowded room or have a token friend who disappears once the action gets going and is never thought of again, it's a refreshing change. How else to explain Jace's unflinching decision to feed Simon his blood to bring him back to life during the climactic battle of
City of Ashes
? He saves Simon even though there's no love lost between the two of them because he doesn't want Clary to experience the pain of losing her friend. And if there's one thing Jace and Simon both seem to understand about each other from the word go, it's how the other feels about Clary. Though Simon at least briefly considers them romantic rivals, in every instance that truly matters, there's a grudging acknowledgment by both that the other guy doesn't want to hurt Clary, will protect her at all costs, and has a fierce loyalty to her. Each is aware that Clary needs both of them. She needs Jace, but she needs Simon too. When Jace is missing in
City of Lost Souls
, Simon's presence allows her to sleep at night (much to Izzy's dismay—more on that in a moment).

Just as it made for the unlikely scenario of Jace saving Simon, again, Simon's friendship with Clary leads to
something even more unlikely in
City of Fallen Angels
. Not long after Simon thinks to himself that the two aren't even friends, this odd couple is out shopping for tomato soup together. Over time the boys' shared care for Clary turns into a strange friendship of its own. Simon can't
not
take care of Jace when he sees the other boy hurting. Perhaps that is partly because he knows what Clary feels for Jace and what Jace feels for her in turn, but I have to believe it's also about what he and Jace have been through by this point. They might never admit it, but Simon and Jace have chosen—perhaps grudgingly—to become friends.

And it's not so odd when you think about it. They've been through battles—plural—together. And Simon's vampirism serves as an equalizer of sorts. Jace may be the gorgeous untouchable Shadowhunter, but as Simon continues becoming the hero he's meant to be, he becomes perfectly capable of retaliating against Jace's insults. That's right: Simon starts quipping back. Male friends teasing each other is a tradition as old as time (or at least middle school) itself. And if Simon and Jace can be friends,
anyone
can. I dream of a world where Downworlders and Shadowhunters snark side by side, and it looks a lot like this.

The other odd couple with memorable scenes in
City of Fallen Angels
(and elsewhere in the series) is Izzy and Clary. Knowing she can't call Jace to come to her and check out the mysterious address of the Church of Talto, Clary texts Isabelle. Just as with Jace and Simon, neither of these two will quite admit that they trust the other. Neither wants to admit they really are friends at this point, beneath their bickering. Izzy informs Clary that their “girl talk” is normal and seems strange to her only because Simon's been her only friend. Still, I have always thought that Izzy is the one
among the group who most needs a friend. Family is so important to her, but unlike Simon and Clary or Jace and Alec, she doesn't have a best friend to call her own.

Surely part of what draws her to Simon is that so much of their relationship ends up being built on the roles friends usually play for each other. He makes her laugh. They talk. She's confused by her growing feelings for him but also by the way his presence comforts her. And though Isabelle's jealousy of Clary's close relationship with Simon persists, I'd be willing to wager its days are numbered. If Simon and Isabelle work out, maybe she will finally understand—in the same way Jace does—what Simon and Clary are to each other and that their bond is not a rival to her own relationship with Simon.

This spiderweb of connections is woven into new patterns in each volume of the series. The more horrors our heroes go through together, the more resilient the web becomes. Not being friends with someone whose life you've saved—more than once—is hard. Just as it's hard not to be friends with someone who's a good person at heart, once you know them in the way that's possible only after you've seen them vulnerable. Just as it's possible to engage in mutual trust only once your friendship is established enough to chance showing that vulnerability.

But it's not just the warm fuzzy feeling of good friends combating evil and cracking jokes together that elevates the role of friendship in the Mortal Instruments series. There is a resonance to these connections that speaks to
the deepest underpinnings of what the series has to say about love and relying on the family you make. Simon says it best in
City of Glass
, talking to his best friend, Clary. He maintains that no one is born good or bad. He says, “[I]t's the way you live your life that matters. And the people you know.” It's your friends.

The arc of the central and auxiliary friendships, and the resulting lines they draw between the major characters, echoes this theme. The Mortal Instruments
is a story about what love can do but also, more broadly, about what our
connections
to other people can enable us to overcome. When these characters get in too deep for their own good, the reason is almost always because they're isolated from those with real feeling for them, as when Simon is turned. Or else it's because they're being controlled—as with Jace's dealings with Lilith and Sebastian—which is a twisted perversion of love, its inverse. The message seems to be that you can survive anything as long as you don't have to survive it alone.

If Clary can create a rune that binds Shadowhunters and Downworlders to draw on each other's strength, is it any wonder that the same universe allows Jace and Simon to be friends? Relationships are power in the Mortal Instruments, and friendship has a place of pride, treated as carefully and with the same respect as familial bonds and true love. This is a series about a family chosen, not just born.

And we all recognize the longing for that. For the ones who'll travel beneath the earth to the realm of scary, treacherous faeries with us, who'll make sure we're interred in the right kind of cemetery if we die, who won't care if we become a vampire or turn out to be a Shadowhunter, who could give a damn if we're straight or gay as long as we're
happy. The ones who'd risk their lives for us and whom we'd gladly risk ours for in turn, again and again—even if we'd rather just watch an anime marathon and gossip.

The truth is, we love the Mortal Instruments in no small part because these characters feel like
our
friends now. Old, new, true friends. We can never wait to find out what they've been up to, and we miss them when they're gone.