Song inspiration: All My Friends – Snakehips

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Chapter 85 – Don't Drink and Fight

--- Less than 1 day before the start of the war. ---

"When you asked if I was afraid of heights, I was somehow thinking of something higher than a three-story house," Adam said with a hint of disappointment. In one of the fir trees behind us, the wailing call of an owl echoed through the silence of dusk as if it wanted to agree with Adam.

We stood at the foot of the Lightwood estate and stared up at the facade. At the aged bricks and the silver guttering, which didn't look particularly inviting. Isabelle had sneaked around the house to check if anyone was in the garden. Apart from a number of high tables, a white gazebo and at least a dozen witchlights, it was deserted. Apparently Jace had already finished preparing. Since I hadn't even considered that the party would apparently be taking place in the garden, this was all the better. Because what we were planning would border on stupidity rather than fun to most people. Hopefully Isabelle and Adam excluded.

"Oh, don't worry, Demonhunter. You'll find that three stories suddenly seems a lot higher once you're holding a sword and having to choose between balance and defense." I confronted Adam with the most confident expression I could muster, taking a few cues from Jace. Then I put my hands on the bricks and climbed up the outside of the mansion.

"This is exactly the kind of fun I'm throwing this party for," Isabelle chimed happily and followed me impatiently.

Adam, who had already thrown caution to the wind at home, seemed quite pleased with himself when he found himself standing next to us on the roof. A light wind blew through our hair as we balanced on the slanted tiles towards the middle. The slope was noticeable, but weak enough to find sufficient grip under our boots, which were made precisely for such maneuvers. Which would become important in a few minutes.

I had suggested coming here. The view of the other rooftops of the neighborhood, the demon towers in the distance, and the Gard on the top of the hill were things I had enjoyed very much, especially during my first weeks in this strange, hostile environment. The rising moon bathed the world in a ghostly glow, murkier than the shimmering witchlights that had come alive all over the city as night fell. When my room had felt claustrophobic under all the pressure, I had retreated here. An opportunity for freedom. A way to observe this city without being exposed to its hundreds of appraising eyes.

Knowing that simply climbing up and staring at the city wouldn't be enough to keep Adam's thoughts in check, an idea had sprouted in my mind. An adventurous form of training that had been one of Jonathan's and my favorite exercises. Probably in part because my father knew much easier ways to strengthen our sense of balance. As with anything that gave us too much real pleasure, he had only let us get away with it occasionally – when he had been in a good mood, or we had been ahead of our training schedule. An idea that Isabelle had immediately embraced, and for which there seemed to be a real name among Shadowhunters: booze training. It was as ridiculous as it sounded. So ridiculous that my father would have never associated it with our earlier training sessions.

And now we were up here, each of us armed with a sword. It was supposed to be nothing more than a simple practice fight. Something to distract him. Something I could justify in the face of all the horror that was brewing like an inevitable storm – because practice was practice and you couldn't have enough of it, you could only get better. If Isabelle hadn't taken the liberty of turning the whole thing into a drinking game. Even though I had protested at first, I found it hard to give in after Adam had immediately agreed. A little too enthusiastic.

I made my way to the other end of the roof and turned smoothly to Isabelle and Adam, brows raised challengingly. "So, are there any real rules about this?" I fought hard to suppress the undertone of superficial annoyance that they were taking something of importance from me and turning it into something else.

Isabelle, who felt much more addressed than Adam, grinned at something. She was leaning on the mantelpiece behind Adam, her daggers dangling casually from her weapon belt. Considering that she was about to throw a party that she had been looking forward to for days, she was fully into this. Probably because it wasn't the party itself that she had been looking forward to anyway, but rather the thrill of the unknown adrenaline.

"The fight starts in the middle. As soon as one of us loses more than three steps from one's side, we have to take a drink. If one of us manages to force the other down the slope, the loser drinks two. If you touch the gutter, three." Isabelle looked so pleased with herself that, considering her words, I wanted to wipe that expression right off her face with a sword blow.

Adam, who was still standing where we had climbed up, slowly turned the hilt of his sword in his right hand — his dominant hand, the one he usually wielded weapons with. After a brief pause, he lifted his left hand and provocatively held up the clear bottle. The moonlight hit the crystal glass, reflecting faintly in all directions from its faceted surface. The scotch glittered like a sea of liquid amber. Just the thought of taking another sip sent a shiver down my spine.

"You really want to push your luck, don't you?" I snorted, nodding my head ironically.

"Don't look at me like that, it wasn't my idea." A slight grin graced Adam's mouth. The white of his teeth flashed a little more intensely in the moonlight, which gave him an almost eerie appearance. But for the first time in a while, he spoke to me as if we were actually still friends. As if the last few days had only been a dream. "I'm immune to alcohol, you ... not really. It just levels the odds of an even fight. As for Isabelle ... I'm sure she can handle more than you can."

"No one is immune to alcohol," Isabelle interjected without looking at Adam, twirling a dagger between her fingers as if it were nothing more than a harmless pen. "But yes, I can definitely handle more than Clary." Next, she had the audacity to roll her eyes in a theatrical manner.

"As you wish," I murmured, quietly enough for them to not hear, but loud enough to hear the rest of the sentence. "One last rule: whoever falls off the roof has to drink the rest of the bottle."

Without waiting for a reaction, I lunged forward, straight at Isabelle. She barely had the chance to raise her dagger before I brought my weapon down on her.

"That's unfair!" she said with a trembling laugh that spilled over onto my blade. "We're starting in the middle!"

"That's not unfair, that's reality!" I replied, now showing my own teeth and looking at Adam out of the corner of my eye, who was just placing the scotch on the chimney ledge.

Too soon to celebrate, as Isabelle switched from dagger to sword and put all her strength into her next strike. With no way to dodge to the slant without losing points, I had to retreat. One step, two steps. I ducked under her next blow and struck the flat side of my sword against her thigh. Isabelle staggered on the slope of the roof, and I was already preparing to leap up and claim the scotch when she swung mid-slide. I only caught a flash of something silver in my peripheral vision before something struck my shoulder, and I lost my own balance.

On the other side of the roof ridge, I heard Isabelle burst into roaring laughter. A minute later, we were crouched next to Adam by the chimney, and he handed me the bottle with a grin after taking two swigs, even though it wasn't his turn yet. His eyes were fixed on my throat, making sure I took my punishment properly. All I could do in response was roll my eyes.

Adam and Isabelle lost the next two rounds. Once I pushed Adam back four steps. The second time I was a little more reckless and, in a lightning-fast maneuver, I jumped over Isabelle, just like I had done in the infirmary in New York and hit her in the back. She tried desperately to regain her balance, but I hit her again before she could turn around. One moment she was teetering over the edge, the next she slammed shoulder-first into the roof tiles and slid all the way down to the gutter.

My laughter thundered across the roof – so loud that the whole neighborhood had to hear me.

"Oh, you'll regret this, Morgenstern," Isabelle spat out through clenched jaws. She leaned on her knees, tightened her grip on her blade and focused her gaze on me with a laser focus. Her lips twitched under the mock anger, wanting to join in my laughter. "Rule change," she continued as she climbed up the bricks past me and sauntered over to Adam, who was already holding the bottle in his hand. The glass cap clinked as he lifted it from the bottle and drank as greedily as if its contents were water and not high-proof alcohol. That made me suspicious, because he drank again even though he hadn't fought. Only then did he pass the bottle to Isabelle. "When one succumbs to the incline, the other must follow. The round ends when one is pushed down to either end, with no more steps backward possible. Reaching the edge costs four sips. They'll be added up and drunk all at once later."

"Whatever you want," I hummed and waved Adam over to me for the next round.

Adam was a quick learner. Once I had pulled the jump trick out of the hat, he blocked every other attempt. This round went on for a lot longer. We attacked, parried, and Adam enjoyed blurting out random things to throw me off balance.

With a little alcohol in my veins, it was much easier to laugh. It was much easier to laugh with Adam – to convince myself that everything was fine in this bubble. This warm feeling in my core was a welcome change from all the fear and worry of the past few days, as long as it didn't get out of hand. I didn't want to let myself go like I had at the ball. The difference between euphoria and insanity might be big, but I didn't know my limits when it came to alcohol. And so this way of drinking, a little at a time instead of a lot at a time, was much more entertaining. The fact that I could look at Adam without a stab in my chest because suddenly only the good things mattered made it all the better.

"How I would love to mix some scotch into Imogen Herondale's tea. If she got drunk she would definitely tear worlds apart."

For a moment, my mind went completely blank, then I shook with laughter and stumbled over my own feet. The image of Imogen doing anything other than sulking couldn't find a place in my head. So I was still laughing when Adam delivered the final blow, and I barely caught myself before sliding down the slope. I was about to stop myself when I remembered Isabelle's rule change. I used my lead to push Adam toward the edge of the roof before he even reached the gutter.

Since we had both lost the round, we both drank – he four and I two. The scotch set my mouth on fire and I coughed in consequence. "By the Angel, this is disgusting."

As soon as I had pressed the glass bottle into Adam's waiting hands, I spun around and stalked away. I had taken one step when a touch of dizziness set in in my head. Far from my focus and on the edge of my vision – controllable, but present. It was allowed to stay that way, but not much stronger.

As I turned to Adam, I realized that, despite his insistence on his resistance, he too was beginning to succumb to the initial effects of alcohol. There was a difference between twenty-year-old scotch and silly glitter drinks that were low enough in alcohol to be masked by sugar.

I glanced over at Isabelle, but her attention was not on us, but on the evening sky. She was trying to work out the time. It wasn't long until the party started. With a sigh, she jumped up from the mantelpiece, but made no move to meet me for our fight. "I have to go and take care of the last things before the guests arrive. Are you all okay here on your own?"

I could feel Adam's eyes on me even before I turned to him. And while I felt like my walls were pretty intact, his were still broken. Despite the alcohol, which had lifted his mood considerably and largely eliminated our conflict, the shift in his emotions was clearly visible. Unease slumbered in the depths of his forest green irises. And yet I was supposed to be the one feeling unease, wasn't I?

A silent conversation started between us. I listened to myself and asked myself if I was ready to face Adam alone. If I would ever be ready. Not a word came out of Adam's lips – he waited for me to make the first move, for me to make the decision. I was not surprised that part of me wanted to say yes without hesitation. I was still attached to this boy, to my first friend. And even if he was partly to blame for this wound, he could also help to close it. He could close the chapter that had led him to hurt me and start a new one. Just like I had done.

My head started to nod and the immediate relief on Adam's face was unmistakable. It was like watching a dark cloud disappear and leave behind a clear blue sky. "We'll be fine," I said and knew even as I said the words that I had made the right decision; that Adam would not stab me in the back again.

"See you soon then. Clary, I'll use your window as an entry point," was all Isabelle said before she walked across the roof and climbed out of sight at the level of my room.

Without a word, Adam pushed himself off the ledge and came toward me. He reached for the sword on his belt and weighed it in his right hand, a thoughtful expression in his eyes. When he looked up, the fog around them was thick enough to compensate for the collapsed walls. My mouth was already tensing to express my concern about his mental state when a single word escaped his lips. "Thank you."

Sometimes it was the small, inconspicuous things that had the greatest value. The seed in the soil, the bacteria in the water, the oxygen in the atmosphere. That's exactly how this thank you felt: as if it would change my world forever; as if a new era was dawning.

So I kept my mouth shut, released the tension from my face and nodded to Adam. We moved into the starting position in sync and I thought of a new strategy to get him down the slope of the roof. Adam didn't give me any time to think, so I backed away from his blade. This wasn't a real fight, but I had to think outside the box and not let myself be limited by any rules. If this were a real fight, I would use the entire roof for my purposes and not wait for one of us to push the other down the slope.

So I did the first thing that came to mind when I met a sharp blow from Adam's sword. I looked him straight in the eyes, grinned, and let gravity pull me sideways into the depths.

An angry cry followed me, Adam obviously right on my heels and thrown off course by my tactics. Perfect. As I was still sliding down, I spun around so that I could confront Adam directly. Our swords sprayed sparks as they clashed – clinking like shrill voices through the peaceful evening.

The heel of my boot caught in the gutter and I moved aside. Any small hope that Adam would fly over the gutter was dashed as he whirled around to face me with less grace but more energy. A parade of blows followed as we fought for dominance. I had less room down here than up above and so I had to work with the space behind me, which could push me closer to my own defeat. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the gutter, its silvery sheen slightly blinding me with the moonlight.

Just as the doors to the garden were thrown open somewhere below us, the plan to win this round formed itself in my head. I only heard confused murmuring from afar. A woman's voice that sounded suspiciously like Isabelle, even from up here.

Adam swung for the next blow and I had to put my plan into action. I ducked under his sword and he was already trying to backtrack to stop me from jumping over his shoulders. But that was not my intention and his misinterpretation increased the joy of my next step. Instead, I released the tight grip on my balance and leaned forward more than was good, over the edge of the gutter. For a moment I looked straight into Isabelle's wide eyes. Hers amused and amazed, mine bold and amused. Then gravity claimed my body and I fell forward off the gutter.

Isabelle's mouth opened in a scream, as did Adam above me. For a wonderful, free moment, I soared through the air, untamed like the wind. Until my right arm shot up and my fingers wrapped around the edge of the gutter. I tensed every muscle in my body as I gave in to the momentum – I needed as much momentum as possible if this was going to work out the way I wanted. A blink later, I was flying again, only no longer towards the ground, but high high high up in the air! To stabilize myself, I stretched both arms out horizontally until my feet landed gently on the roof behind Adam like a cat's.

Adam, who was probably even more surprised by this turn of events, let out a shrill sound. My left arm shot up and from then on it was child's play to push him to the end of his side. Before he could admit defeat at the edge of the abyss, I leaned forward in a theatrical bow. "Sincere regards, Valentine Morgenstern."

Adam slapped his thighs with laughter, his cheeks flushed from exertion and alcohol. "Fucked up parents or not, at least yours taught you something!" He was meant to sound judgmental, but he couldn't swallow the joke.

Seeing him like that was enough to jog my memory of Jonathan. It was worth coming up here and agreeing to his stupid rules.

"By the Angel!" Isabelle squeaked up to us from the terrace. Adam and I leaned down to her, only to find that our audience had grown to include Alec and Jace. Alec was actually amused, as if he couldn't believe his eyes. Jace had a closed expression and his arms crossed in front of his chest. And with that, my own amusement was gone. Great.

"What are you two doing up there?" Alec wondered.

Our gazes simultaneously shifted to Isabelle, who greeted us with a grin. Apparently, she had kept her whereabouts and activities a secret from her brothers. Of course, she had. Probably because of me, judging by Jace. And unlike Adam, you couldn't read the alcohol in her eyes.

Adam waved down at them, as if he had only just noticed the three of them. He moved toward me, toward the middle of the roof. "Hi, Alec!"

That was enough, and a laugh that hurt my stomach burst out of me. Even from my distance, I saw Isabelle's expression darken. Oh yes, she was insulted that she had left before the fun had really begun. I centered my focus on her, ignoring Jace as best I could. The alcohol made it easier; ensured that my laughter was still genuine. Even though I was pretty sure that without it, I would have a lot less to laugh about.

"He asked what we're doing here," I hissed at Adam, gesturing clearly down at them.

"We're just training," Adam called, holding up his sword, narrowly missing my ears.

I quickly ducked under it. "Watch out!"

The reaction from the two was priceless. They stared back as if Adam had lost his mind. Finally, Adam pointed to the roof beneath our feet as if he hadn't just nearly decapitated me. "Even some of the fucked-up parents prepare their kids for real combat conditions. Kids of other fucked up parents, however ... have to scrounge knowledge from friends."

"Are you drunk?" Alec's voice was filled with amusement and irony. Next to him, Isabelle giggled at Adam's stupid answer. Alec had only half meant his question and none of them, except his sister, had understood what exactly we were doing up here.

Adam and I exchanged a long look. His green irises shimmered mischievously and he silently raised his eyebrows, seeking my permission. Despite his elevated mood, he didn't want to tell them the truth; didn't want to expose himself to them as he had done to Isabelle and me. I groaned to myself.

Gratitude flashed in his eyes before he turned back to Alec, his smile growing to new dimensions. "We're practicing fights under realistic conditions. Clary ..." He hesitated, feverishly considering. "She was afraid Jonathan might come here and ..." Adam noticed me sharply drawing in my breath at the mention of my brother. His head snapped in my direction, and an apology seemed to hover there. He quickly continued, "Her defense on a roof really leaves much to be desired. If he comes, she'll definitely die."

My mouth, which had just started to pout, now twitched in mental overload. I hit Adam so hard on the shoulder that he staggered backward from me. "Jokes about my father are fine, but ..." Even now, I couldn't bring myself to say his name. Although his comment hadn't wiped the grin from my face and the urge to laugh was overwhelming. Mixing serious topics with jokes had this effect. These feelings were so confusing. "Everything else is below the belt."

Adam raised his arms in a gesture of peace and swayed further back. "Not meant to be taken badly," he said just as Alec shouted in amazement from below, "By the Angel, you really are drunk!"

"Just for the record," but Adam lost his train of thought, and any denial would have been an obvious lie in his condition. The last few sips must have been too much. He had already drunk two whole glasses at home and had suffered more defeats than I had during the fight. Suddenly it was pretty obvious. " "We only create realistic conditions! It's possible that Clary might be under the influence of alcohol if," he choked on the name of my brother, "someone comes to get her."

"Booze training!" Isabelle said indignantly, as if the whole thing hadn't been her idea in the first place. Considering that we had been out together all day and at least Alec knew about it, I wasn't surprised by the suddenly suspicious looks she was getting.

"We're just half-drunk," I announced, putting my hands on my hips as I looked down at her. "Come up and help me push Adam off the roof."

Isabelle's red lips lifted in a sadistic grin. "Nothing would please me more."

"Going up against Clary was definitely a bad idea, Adam," Alec called. He leaned against the open patio door, the crate of drinks forgotten at his feet. Judging by his mood, things must have gone well with Magnus because he had little else good to say about me.

"I'm fine." With the weight of proof, Adam pointed his sword at me. His arm muscles flexed as he lunged at me. I was standing sideways to him, which could have been unfair. If this was really Jonathan.

My feet instinctively moved over the gutter, which creaked under our weight. As graceful as ever, I arched my back and his blade slid over me. "Nice try."

I didn't bother to counterattack because I felt our time was up. Adam, however, seemed to have expected a counterattack from me because his body was already leaning towards me in calculation. When nothing came from me, however, there was no weight for his blade to strike. I felt the change in mood from below throbbing in the back of my neck like a sixth sense.

Adam stumbled straight toward me, off balance because of my lack of counterattack. His eyes widened as he realized he wouldn't regain his balance. His mouth opened, not knowing what to say to me other than a warning. But it was already too late, because the only thing stopping him from free falling was me, standing in his way.

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This can only be described as a crack chapter. So don't take this drinking game too seriously, I just had fun writing something funnier and was in the flow because I was listening to this song in the background the whole time and it reminded me of my youth. Rip to 2014-2016, those were such great times lol.

Let me know what you think of the chapter! We also have a rapprochement between Clary and Adam in here, how do you like that?

Skyllen