If Clary and Izzy were to become parabatai when Clary returns to the Shadow World, I think it could make for some interesting character dynamics. Yes, there’s a very serious element to becoming parabatai – you’re trusting someone to have your back no matter what, granting them stewardship of a part of your very soul.
But there’s also an incredible amount of bickering.
Like how one day, Izzy has absolutely had it up to here – because yes, they needed to do something about the Mundane they saw under attack, and yes, they had to act quickly, but that doesn’t mean acting without thinking, Clary –
And suddenly, she remembers that there is someone who knows exactly how she feels right now, and she’s on the phone before she’s consciously registered it.
‘Izzy, hey-‘
‘You and I should get t-shirts,’ she interrupts, not trying to hide her irritation.
Alec’s quiet for a moment, and Izzy can practically see his frown of bafflement. ‘T-shirts?’
‘Yeah,’ she grumbles. ‘Matching ones that say My Parabatai’s a Reckless Idiot.’
And Alec gives an exasperated sigh that morphs into a chuckle. ‘What did she do this time?’ And Izzy feels her chest ease a little, takes a deep breath, and starts to vent in earnest.
Another time, Clary slams the door when she gets home, and Jace looks up from the kitchen counter, poorly concealing his amusement. ‘Uh-oh. Who’s pissed you off, babe?’
‘Isabelle,’ Clary practically hisses – before launching into a tirade about their latest hunt, Jace nodding along as he continues cutting up chicken and mushrooms for tonight’s dinner.
‘ – and I had it under control, but no, she had to just – just – argh, I swear, she’s the most stubborn, self-sacrificing-!’ She gives up on words, settling for a frustrated grunt, and flops down onto the couch.
And Jace finally approaches her – somewhat carefully, even though he’s smiling by this point – and hands her a beer. ‘Yeah,’ he says, raising his own bottle towards her. ‘Welcome to the world of having a Lightwood for a parabatai. It’s a fucking nightmare sometimes.’
And his attempt at lightheartedness works – Clary laughs, her anger starting to fade into fond annoyance now that she’s said her piece. ‘Yeah,’ she agrees, clinking their bottles together before taking a swig. Her frustration hasn’t completely dissolved, but it’s nice to know that someone’s in the same boat.
And of course, it isn’t just the pairs of parabatai that end up with new confidants in the same position as they are.
‘You look glum, Seamus,’ Magnus says by way of greeting, and Simon looks up from the bright red flowers he was half-looking at, half-gazing through in the Institute greenhouse.
‘Hey,’ he says – and yeesh, Magnus is right. He sounds glum, too. ‘How come you’re back in town?’
‘Meeting with Lorenzo, but don’t change the subject,’ Magnus says, taking a seat on the nearest bench, admiring a particularly tall cactus of some kind. ‘What’s got you down?’
And Simon sighs, taking the other half of the bench. ‘Izzy and I had a fight,’ he admits, slumping forward to rest his chin on his fists.
‘What did you do?’
‘Nothing!’ Simon protests. ‘She and Clary were arguing, and she was telling me about it, and apparently I wasn’t as supportive as I thought I was being.’
Magnus chuckles. ‘Hm. Yes, I can imagine.’ He sighs, turning towards Simon. ‘All right, listen carefully, because this is going to happen more often than you think. Parabatai bicker a lot,’ he says. ‘Rule number one is obvious – until you’re sure that tempers have cooled, do not agree with the parabatai.’
‘I didn’t, I agreed with her!’
‘Well, then I’m guessing you broke rule number two,’ Magnus says, though he’s still smiling. ‘Don’t disagree with the parabatai. No, it doesn’t make sense,’ he says, holding up a hand to forestall Simon’s confusion. ‘And yes, that does in fact mean that there’s no right thing to say. Your safest bet is to nod and hum in agreement, without saying any actual words.’ His eyes light up in apparent revelation. ‘Oh – and bring ice cream,’ he adds.
Simon’s mouth twitches up into a reluctant smile. ‘Ice cream?’
Magnus nods solemnly. ‘I have a working theory that all Lightwoods have a secret weakness for ice cream. So far, I’ve tested Gabriel, Alexander – ‘
‘Wait – Gabriel?’ Simon interrupts, alarmed. ‘Have I missed a whole other sibling, somehow?’
Magnus shakes his head, smiling. ‘No, don’t worry. I knew Gabriel over a century ago,’ he explains. ‘Anyway – I’ve tested my ice cream theory on Gabriel, Alec, Isabelle, Max, and Robert; and so far, I’m five for five.’
‘Huh,’ says Simon. ‘Not Jace or Maryse?’
‘No, as far as I can tell it’s passed on by blood,’ Magnus explains. ‘Which would explain why my own fondness for ice cream has neither increased nor decreased since changing my name.’
Simon shakes his head in amused incredulousness, leaning back in his seat and looking at the cactus they’re opposite. It’s one of those ones with the spines that look more like fur, the ones that have always annoyed him because they look like they’re soft when in fact they’re… well, cacti. ‘When did you even manage to test on Robert?’ he wonders aloud.
Magnus huffs a laugh. ‘Alexander and I have been for dinner with him and Max four times now,’ he says. ‘And every time, without fail – no matter which establishment we’re in, no matter if it’s summer in L.A. or the middle of winter in Idris – Robert orders ice cream for dessert.’
Magnus leaves shortly after that. When Simon tentatively knocks on Izzy’s office door that evening, he’s greeted with a fierce hug, a soft kiss and a heartfelt apology.
(And then when he pulls out the ice cream, she’s so happy that for a split-second, he worries that he spaced out and accidentally proposed ahead of schedule.)
