Hellooooo. So after a few comments that I should write more, I decided to write this one of the last half of Chapter Thirteen. This is one of my favorite parts of the book but I'm afraid I didn't do it justice... I tried though...

when I have time I will sit down and really REALLY work on the end of Chapter 20/Beginning of Chapter 21... you all know what chapter it is... that one will most likely be M for his thoughts lol

Richelle Mead owns the Characters, the Plot, and in this case... the dialog.

Comments are awesome... and almost expected if you want the spell scene people... I want to know what you think...! Should I write the spell scene or admit I can't write and not? thats up to youuu!

-J

The sun was setting on the school, marking the beginning of the day. I felt myself smile, as I headed out to my daily practices with Rose. These practices were my favorite part of the day for a few reasons I didn't like to dwell on.

We ran as usual, Rose feeling the need to show off, me keeping control of the urge to grab her and hold her. She was is pain, each rumor etched into the worry lines on her face. I had heard the kids around the school, running their mouths about Rose being a blood whore. It had taken every ounce of will power to stop myself from throwing the first boy across the room. Now it was a rumor that most people found amusing and fitting and for that I wanted to hurt them all. I also wanted to murder Zeklos and Sarcozy, no worse, I wanted to make them suffer humiliation like they had made Rose suffer. I almost wished that Christian's fire stunt had been a little less controlled.

Still she kept her chin up as we practiced offensive exercises, and although I allowed her to use any makeshift weapon she could find, she still used pure force as opposed to a weapon. The look on her face when she attacked left me wondering who she was fighting when she came at me with strong blows. Maybe it was the two boys who had left her feeling dirty. Maybe it was the girl who had been causing trouble for her and Lissa. Whoever it was, she fought with such rage that it had surprised me on a few occasions, leaving me vulnerable to the blows that, admittedly hurt a bit.

As she blocked a side punch from me and came around with a right hook I saw the pain mixed with the anger. She was hurting far more than she was letting on and I felt that familiar pang in my chest. I didn't try to deny the feelings from myself anymore. No, not since the night I had fought the urge to hospitalize Jesse Zeklos. I was seven years her senior but I knew she had a place in my heart that no one had ever gotten to before.

I couldn't stop myself from remembering that night. Bursting through the door half blind with rage to find him on top of her, touching her. I had seen myself in the exact same position with Rose in my mind's eye many times, but to see her there like that had made me act impulsively. She had been in her bra and I knew I had been staring, she had even commented on it. I had realized in that instant that I wanted Rose Hathaway in a way no man should ever want a girl so much younger than him. After leaving her there that night I had found myself fantasizing about the young dhampir often. Especially when training.

Snapping out of my thoughts, I called a break and began returning our equipment to the supply room. I had two options in front of me when it came to my feelings for her. I could resign from my position, and find a new Moroi to protect, never looking back at this school or the girl that I desired so much. Or I could hide my feelings and hopefully they would go away in time. Option number one was sounding better every time I looked at her and touched her when training. I stole a glance in her direction and something made me look back again with concern. Her hands were raw and bleeding, chapped from the weather and hard training.

"Your hands." I breathed a few choice words in Russian, thankful that Rose had not understood them. "Where are your gloves?"

She looked down at her hands, an embarrassed expression on her face. She studied her hands a hint of disgust playing at her features. It took her awhile to answer, "Don't have any. Never needed them in Portland."

I repeated my earlier words and had her sit in a chair, getting the first-aid kit. I held her hands lightly, my heart giving a ridiculous jump at the contact, and wiped away the blood with a damp cloth. Holding her hands made me want to hold her, to touch her everywhere, to-

I stopped myself, mid thought, as I had done many times before. I looked at her face and said, "We'll get you some." I continued wiping the blood away, trying not to focus on the contact with Rose.

She looked down at her hands and frowned. She stared at them like they were another problem to add to the list. "This is only the start , isn't it?"

I looked at her for a moment, "Of what?"

"Me. Turning into Alberta. Her… and all of the other female guardians. They're all leathery and stuff. Fighting and training and always being outdoors-they aren't pretty anymore." She paused and I fought the urge to pull her toward me and kiss her. To kiss every inch of her body in reassurance that she could never lose her beauty. "This…" she said, "this life. It destroys them. Their looks, I mean."

I'd barely noticed that I had stopped working on her hands. I looked at her and felt that all too familiar passion stir. She looked at me and became kind of sheepish, making me want to dive inside her head. Whenever she made that face I wanted to know what was going through her mind. How could anything tarnish her beauty? Even her raw and bleeding hands were glorious, a testament to her strength and dedication to her friend. "It won't happen to you. You're too…" a myriad of words flooded into my mind. Perfect, gorgeous, goddess like, scorchingly sexy, but none were ones I could say. Giving up, I repeated my earlier words, "It wont happen to you."

I kicked myself mentally for this lapse in control. I busied myself in cleaning up her hands, hating myself for acting like an infatuated school boy. Well, I thought, if I had known Rose Hathaway when I was a novice I most certainly would have gotten in a lot of trouble. I imagined myself a few years younger, trying to impress the girl, racing her around the track, flirting with her like all the other boys did. I imagined her older, touching me playfully, leaning in toward me, lust in her features.

"It happened to my mom. She used to be beautiful. I guess she still is, sort of. But not the way she used to be." Her voice took on a bitter and hurt tone when she continued with, "Haven't seen her in a while. She could look completely different for all I know."

The way she said it made me feel sad for her. I had never held resentment like that for my mother, so it threw me a bit that Rose was so calloused toward hers. "You don't like your mother," he said carefully.

She looked at me, her eyes filled with anger, hurt, sadness, all the things I couldn't banish. Her voice didn't give away her pain when she responded sarcastically, "You noticed that, huh?"

"You barely know her," I said, unsure of why I was defending a woman who could definitely defend herself.

"That's the point. She abandoned me." Rose looked like she was growing more and more upset. "She left me to be raised by the Academy."

I couldn't think of anything to say, as I finished cleaning the wounds. I opened a jar of salve and began rubbing in into the rough parts of her hands, letting myself get momentarily taken away in the feel of her warm skin between my fingers.

I found myself thinking about Rose being a mother. Her, standing in front of me with a baby. From what I knew about her, I could tell she would be torn between continuing down her path as a guardian, leaving her baby with a school to raise as a guardian, or raising the baby out of obligation for what she had felt slighted from as a child.

I knew she wouldn't have been able to stay away from Lissa long enough to raise a child the way she wished she had been raised. "You say that… but what else should she have done?" I found myself saying to her. "I know you want to be a guardian. I know how much it means to you. Do you think she feels any differently? Do you think she should have quit to raise you when you'd spend most of your life here anyway?"

I looked at her and hid the smile threatening to break out as she made a face. The corners of her mouth turned down in a way that showed me she knew I was right. But I knew her so it came as no surprise when she huffed, "Are you saying I'm a hypocrite?"

"I'm just saying maybe you shouldn't be do hard on her. She's a very respected dhampir woman. She's set you on the path to be the same." I studied her exquisite face as she slowly gave in, pursing her lips slightly and letting out a little sigh of defeat.

Never backing down completely she glared at the ground, "It wouldn't kill her to visit more," to this I had to concede, "But I guess your right. A little. It could have been worse, I suppose. I could have been raised with blood whores."

A jolt of pain shot through me, "I was raised in a dhampir commune. They aren't as bad as you think." I remembered my youth like someone pressing play on an old family movie. The dhampir children running around pretending to be guardians waiting for their chance at school. The mothers watching them lovingly. Yes I could understand why Rose had felt she missed out on a fair childhood.

"Oh," she said suddenly looking embarrassed, "I didn't mean-"

"It's all right." I turned my attention back to her hands not wanting anymore said on the blood whore matter. I hated that term, hated it being said in a way meant to degrade a woman, to make her feel less than perfect. I hated it when my mom had been referred to it at school and I still hated it that the kids here used it as a flippant term for novice girls. Girls, not Rose Hathaway.

"So, did you, like, have family there? Grow up with them?" She sounded slightly amazed at the idea.

I nodded allowing more memories in, "My mother and two sisters. I didn't see them much after I went to school, but we still keep in touch." I thought back to the small gathering my mother held for us, the loving embrace she wrapped each of us in when we were welcomed in. I was starting to understand Rose's bitterness toward her mom, and found myself wondering if I would be different now, had I not lived there. "Mostly," I continued, "the communities are about family. There's a lot of love there, no matter what stories you've heard."

I saw the flash of jealousy in her eyes before she looked down at the floor. She was perturbed at the fact that she had been left virtually motherless her entire life, while I was loved by my "blood whore" mother. It was something I had come to appreciate, no matter how much teasing it had caused in the past.

"Yeah, but… isn't it weird? Aren't there a lot of Moroi men visiting to, you know?…"

I thought about the many times in my youth I had seen men wander in and out of the homes of my neighbors. Some had become familiar faces, others I never saw again. Then there were some I had never wanted to see again that always came back. "Sometimes." I said darkly.

I must have made her uncomfortable because she tensed up immediately. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up something bad…"

"Actually," I said in grim amusement, "you probably wouldn't think its bad." I thought about that night, heat touching my bones, at the memory I usually fought to keep buried away. I smiled humorlessly, "You don't know your father, do you?"

She seemed a bit surprised by the question but shook her head. "No. All I know is he must have had wicked cool hair."

I looked at her hair affectionately, like I had many times before. "Yes. He must have." I focused on her hands so she wouldn't see my face when I said, "I knew mine."

Her hands went stiff in mine. "Really? Most Moroi guys don't stay-I mean, some do, but you know, usually they just-"

My mind went back to that night sitting in my room thinking about how I could stop this all from continuing. Hating my mom for not being stronger. Hating myself for not being stronger.

"Well, he liked my mother." I didn't try to hide the disdain in my voice. "And he visited her a lot. He's my sisters' father too." More memories. I was starting to drown in them. "But when he came… well, he didn't treat my mother very well. He did some horrible things."

Holes in the walls.

Broken glasses.

A few broken bones.

Memory after memory washed over me making me feel slightly dizzy.

"Like…" she hesitated. This was not safe ground for either of us, and she was treading softly. "Blood-whore things?"

A cut lip.

A black eye.

"Like beating-her-up kinds of things." there was no life in my voice. I was so lost in the memories that I didn't notice I had finished bandaging her hands until she squeezed my hands. I couldn't let go, I didn't let go, only squeezing back.

"Oh God," she said, softly. "That's horrible. And she.. she just let it happen?"

I looked into her concerned eyes, knowing she wouldn't judge me for what I was about to tell her. "She did," I said with a sly smile. "But I didn't."

She looked like she might start bouncing in her seat from the excitement this statement had caused. "Tell me, tell me you beat the crap out of him."

Her excitement was contagious and I felt my smile grow. "I did."

"Wow" she breathed in wonder, the admiration in her tone made me look down feeling my face heat up. "You beat up you dad. I mean, that's really horrible…what happened. But, wow. You really are a god."

The caught my attention, "What?" I looked back up at her. A god? From this heavenly being sitting in front of me? My wasted soul was nothing in comparison to her magnificence.

"Uh, nothing." She was nervous, trying to change the subject. "How old were you?"

"Thirteen," I answered thinking more about the absurdity of her earlier statement.

Rose's eyes widened. "You beat up your dad when you were thirteen?"

"It wasn't hard. I was stronger than he was, almost as tall. I couldn't let him keep doing that. He had to learn that being royal and Moroi doesn't mean you can do anything you want to other people-even blood whores." The last word rolled off my tongue like acid.

Rose flinched at the word, and seemed surprised that I had used it at all in reference to my mother. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

I shrugged. "It's all right."

Her attitude changed suddenly and she gasped. "That's why you got so upset about Jesse, isn't it? He was another royal, trying to take advantage of a dhampir girl."

I looked away from her and anger and longing shot through me. "I got upset over that for a lot of reasons. After all, you were breaking the rules, and…" I was jealous. I want you so bad it makes me insane. I couldn't say the last part but it was true. I wanted her with every fiber of my being. I looked back at her and saw a glint of the all to recognizable attraction in her eyes.

She seemed to remember something that saddened her, because she looked at her feet and said quietly, "I know you heard what people are saying, that I-"

"I know it's not true," I said, stopping her. I didn't want her to say it, false or otherwise.

She seemed surprised. "Yeah , but how do you-"

"Because I know you," I said with an air of finality. "I know your character. I know you are going to be a great guardian."

She blushed slightly. "I'm glad someone does. Everyone else thinks I'm totally irresponsible."

"With the way you worry more about Lissa than yourself…" I shook my head. "No. You understand your responsibilities better than guardians twice your age. You'll do what you have to do to succeed." I wanted to drag her down to the floor with me and kiss her. I wanted to do more than kiss, actually but I was restraining myself.

She looked thoughtful a moment then broke through one of my many fantasies with, "I don't know if I can do everything I have to do."

I raised an eyebrow questioningly.

She looked sheepish again. "I don't want to cut my hair," she responded.

Had I missed something? "You don't have to cut your hair. It's not required."

"All the other guardian women do," she explained. "They show off their tattoos."

I dropped her hands and gathered some of her hair in my hand. I imagined her cutting it off, not liking the thought of her without her beautiful locks. I couldn't stop my mind from drifting to one of my many unwanted fantasies. Her laying in bed, hair spilling out onto the pillow as she looked up at me with lust filled eyes.

I brought my attention back to reality and saw Rose staring at me, shocked. I let her hair go, feeling completely horrified with my actions. Suddenly, leaving felt like a good plan. I couldn't be my usual controlled self around Rose. "Don't cut it." I managed, my voice still heavy as a result of my earlier thoughts. I stood up, needing to get out of here. Needing to get away from her.

"But no one'll see my tattoos if I don't." she said, completely unaware of the effect she was having on me.

I walked to the doorway, trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile. I looked at her once more. "Wear it up."

A/N: For a 20 year old, I have the worst spelling ever... so if you see any mistakes PLEASE tell me where because I wrote it and knowing what it says makes my brain miss errors... (also my keyboard on this aweful laptop likes to skip random letters...)

Thanks!