Jasper and I lounged on the patio sofa our legs entwined together, my wet hair pressed against his bare chest, sometimes he just didn't like wearing too many clothes, not that I minded.
The blinds pulled closed making it feel like late afternoon more than late morning. I stared at the television screen still not quite able to shake the feeling that something was happening or coming, I couldn't tell which but I felt a little uneasy. For one, the missing presence of my brothers was bugging me, plus the sickening feeling in my stomach, my intuition was trying to convey something.
I was pulled from the moment by a snort from Jasper as he observed the film on the screen with discontent.
'I don't understand this at all...' he mumbled. I snuggled into him a little closer as i explained.
'Ok Ariel the red headed mermaid is in love with him, but the old sea hag wants him for herself, so she is going to make her sing to steal her voice, because that's what the prince heard.'
'Why is it always princes?'
'Because my love it is Disney and Disney is the ultimate enchantment and fairy tale for little girls and some boys in both worlds, happy endings, the immortal ever after.'
'So where are the sirens?'
'Jasper there are no sirens in the little mermaid.'
'That's a little presumptuous isn't it? to presume that there are only mermaids?'
'It's only make believe Jasper, some people like that, to escape, its not meant to be factually correct, plus we have talking fish and a lobster' I stroked his chest.
'I don't buy it, this could have actually happened' he muttered.
I let out a loud laugh, which then proceeded to become a set of giggles, apparently Jasper thought he was making a valid point.
'What do you find so funny? It could have happened.'
'How exactly could this', I gestured towards the T.V screen, 'have actually happened?'
'Well for one, Trojan or Posideon, the sea god is echoed though mythology and demonology texts, the underwater kingdom could quite obliviously Atlantis, I'm just saying it's not uncommon for the ladies or men of the sea to seek solace with the land walkers.'
He was stroking my knee as he spoke examining the wound there, I'd placed an herb balm on it an hour early and it was already healing. 'I'm sorry' he whispered, rubbing the pink scar forming. 'I've had worse.' I let out a long sigh. 'Not by my hand.' He said sternly.
I didn't turn to see his eyes, I didn't want too. Instead I decided to use distraction tactics; I ran my hand up his chest and stopped over a small scar near his collarbone, tracing the outline with my fingers lightly. "How about we put on Fantasia and you can tell me how you known a guy who that happened to?' He laughed and hugged me a little closer, 'Forget that I want see how this bad boy finishes up, that hags got it coming.'
I felt more comfortable and relaxed; I gazed down at Jasper's arm's engulfing me, small scars in various shapes and sizes covered the areas from his elbows to wrists on both arms. I knew many were injuries from training and duels but the thought of him hurt still made me feel angry that an attacker had has the impertinence to mark him and leave a scar. I didn't know about as much of Jasper's past as I would like, but I never pushed him to tell me and most of what Amy, his mother had told my father I heard anyway, He knew I knew more than he'd like.
Jasper and his mother Amy Di Angelo came to our home when Jasper was ten. I remembered when they arrived covered with black capes and soaking wet in the early hours of a cold and damp november morning, the weather was unsettled and I couldn't sleep that night. At the age of seven my father thought it was just the lightening that scarred me, but the truth was I'd dreamt of them arriving at Collingwood. I'd sat at the high bar stool in the kitchen with my warm milk, the door splayed wide open from a gust of wind as they came into the hall, their travelling clothes dripping on the tiled floor. My father embraced Amy and took them both into the study, never to be left behind I jumped down and followed sitting in an arm chair and listening, freighting sleep and trying to puzzle together pieces of their conversation. There had been a rebellion in Southern Italy, a wizard in some way known or related to Jasper's father had caused something to erupt within the south and Jasper's father, Benedict had been killed, the details of which I couldn't remember clearly. Amy was inconsolable as she described how she frantically searched their home trying to find Jasper, who it turned out had fled to the stables. In the stables, Jasper had confronted a group of three men trying to steal horses, trying to protect what was his father's property; he tried to use the small knowledge of magic he had to challenge them. But like with most wizards our powers weren't suppose to manifest and develop until puberty.
Jasper had told my father the details, he was afraid of hurting his mother any more than she was hurting already; he sat on the sofa in the study some days later his feet just touching the floor, my father beside him as he relaying the tale. I drew pictures at the desk, and remember looking at him and thinking how brave he was. The first attacker whom he recognised as Paris, had thrown him in the air as the other laughed and mocked him, using Italian words I didn't understand but from the expression on my father's face they apparently weren't pleasant. They had played with him for a few moments, throwing him around and trying out mild magic, until a masked man stepped forward and threw a fireball towards some abandoned hay, putting a dampen on their play but setting the barn ablaze as Jasper lay unconscious inside. The next thing Jasper's remembered was being dragged from the barn by a horse with her foul, gasping for air. The burns to his arms were the worst but now only a few lines and patches remained. There were many sessions like that over the first initial few months at Collingwood estate with my father and Jasper. Elliot and Max tried hard to befriend him but he was detached, his childhood robbed from him, a blank expression plagued his face as he sank into his own world. At this time I was my father's shadow and for many months Jasper sat in the study silently reading from books as my father taught me lessons about demonology history, myths and legends. Officially things I wasn't suppose to learn until I was nine like Elliot, but I loved history and anything my father gave me from my own classes was often boring and I got easily distracted. The first time Jasper ever spoke to me was to criticise, I was laid on the study floor carpet playing with runes, not a typical pass time but Elliot and Max had gone off to play guardians and I wasn't allowed to play, because I was a girl. I look back now and enjoy the irony of the situation.
I was throwing them like dices and trying to remember there names and meanings. I wasn't very good and from the snigger in the door way I definitely knew I wasn't any good.
I was looking at Jera rune and trying to pronounce it clearly when Jasper snatched the rune from my hand and stared at it frowning, I watched his expression before asking. 'Do you know about runes, you can help me?' I picked up the runes and offered them to him with a smile, he scooped them from me and threw them across the room, they scattered and bounced on the wooden floor. He stared at me his grey eyes ebbing with power like a flashing light. 'Little girls shouldn't play with things they don't understand!' he shouted, his voice strong with an echo.
I dropped to the floor and desperately tried to pick up all the pieces, before I could register I was crying, I couldn't find the last rune and without it there would be only 24 runes and it did not make a full set. Jasper had knelt beside me looking under the furniture as well, he picked up Eihwaz and handed it to me, I snatched it away and left not looking into his face in case those grey eyes scared me again. I'd never been scared of anything or anyone before, I'd seen demons, wizards and even meet other super naturals but those eyes had scared me and penetrated my mind. I decided to stay away from Jasper Di Angelo.
It continued like that for months, even years after Jasper arrived. My father took responsibility for Jasper with the council to ensure his teaching continued and his magical abilities developed. My father began teaching Jasper the basics which unfortunately for me, was at the same time as my lessons. I began to hate sharing the study with him, it had been my haven and now he was encroaching on my territory, I didn't like it. We very rarely spoke and when we did it consisted of mono syllabic words, I never made eye contact. Amy noticed my change in behaviour and tried to talk to me, she knelt over my bed, her chocolate wide eyes blinking down in concern, her long curls falling onto my arms. Time after time spent telling me tales of fairies and witches, making me laugh with silly faces and accents. She became the mother I longed for and I became the daughter she never had.
Over the following months Elliot and Max found a way to bring Jasper from his shell, with duelling and weapons, boy's games. Although that journey wasn't easy, it took three years to finally get through effectively without violent outbrusts. Trauma affects people in different ways. My father encouraged the behaviour to increase his interpersonal skills.
Jasper told me later that the experiences with my brothers lead him to make an oath with himself and the Guardianship. That he would never be afraid again, he would learn how to defend himself, to be strong and to defend the Collingwood name as his own.
I used to forget that Jasper wasn't actually a Collingwood, he went everywhere with our family with my father. He became part of our lives and gradually over time I changed towards him becoming friendlier and open with him just as I did Elliott and Max, he became my friend.
He never joined Elliott and Max in teasing when I got my braces or when I bought home my first boyfriend at fourteen, he stayed impartial, I trusted him and on occasions I turned to him for advice. The steady ground between us was about to become a little uneven a couple of years later as we overstepped the mark.
