#he's manifesting blackstairs getting married

[lxdyblackthorn]

i just realized magnus was calling emma and julian "the blackthorns"

[emms-jules]

The Beautiful Lady Without Pity

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26894881

He remembered Orpheus, who made a deal with Hades to get Eurydice back, as long as he doesn’t look back until he is in the mortal world. Orpheus, who grew impatient and turned to look back at Eurydice, sending her back to the Underworld. He never understood the man’s impatience until now.

(A retelling of the story of Andrew Blackthorn and Lady Nerissa in Julian Blackthorn and Emma Carstairs.)

Note: Hi! The comparison between Andrew & Nerissa's love story to Blackstairs has been on my mind for a while now, so I decided to put it into words. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! 

He met her when he was seventeen. A soldier, born to defend the world from the wrath of demons and other creatures rogue. He, along with his fellow Academy students and a teacher, were tasked to go and retrieve a Nephilim child taken into the lands of the fey.

The Fair Folk were a mysterious race, which was why the Clave despised anything that had to do with them and their place. These creatures are part angel and demon, hence their heavenly looks and mischievous schemes. The lands were rich with mountains, seas, plants and animals —a literal fairytale, if there was one. However, don’t be fooled by their beauty, for according to the Clave, “They will paint a beautiful picture of what awaits you there, but its beauty is false and hollow.” Find yourself drawn, and your demise is guaranteed, though its time is not. 

The Courts, Seelie and Unseelie, were places out of time. Upon entering the land of the Fey, a day in would mean thirty days for the real world, or thirty months, or thirty years, or thirty lifetimes. One will never know, until he escapes Faerie, which is impossible, and realizes what he’s lost.

For years, this has been the image of the Fair Folk to those not of its realm. Now, entering the throne room of the Seelie Court, Julian Blackthorn repeated the same beliefs on his head. The path toward the room was covered in resin, preserving numerous flowers and butterflies in its walls. The double doors were a set of intricately woven vines overlapping each other. The Seelie guards threw them open, ushering the Shadowhunters in. Sitting on the throne was the Seelie Queen in all her glory. Julian averted his eyes to the Queen’s right, and his breath was taken away. All thoughts on his mind went blank.

Standing beside the Queen was a Faerie gentry, he knew that much. She stands and exudes power the way a gentry does. Brown eyes met Julian’s blue-green ones. Such beautiful eyes, he thought. The fairy woman was clothed in silver flowers, the petals hugging her figure and trailing from her chest to her hips, flowing from there to a long trail. Such a beautiful dress, he thought. But what got his attention was her hair, a mass of golden locks that ended up to her waist.  He itched to touch it. Such beautiful hair, he thought. 

He remembered Orpheus, who made a deal with Hades to get Eurydice back, as long as he doesn’t look back until he is in the mortal world. Orpheus, who grew impatient and turned to look back at Eurydice, sending her back to the Underworld. He never understood the man’s impatience until now. 

He heard the Queen talking, but it was incoherent in his ears, as he strides towards the same brown eyes that were regarding him with confusion and astonishment.

Julian Blackthorn kneels and bows his head. “I pledge myself to you, oh fair lady.”

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He learns her name easily after, when the Fair Folk and his fellow Shadowhunters in the room were in a frenzy. His classmates asked what he was doing. Was he poisoned? Was he tricked? Was he threatened? The Fey warriors rushed to block him from the gentry. The Queen was shouting at him. Is this some kind of trick? What is he trying to do to Lady Delia?

Delia, Julian pronounces, trying the name from his tongue. Lady Delia looks at him for a long moment, before telling the guards to stop. Everyone freezes, even the Queen. The warriors warily moved out of the way as Delia sauntered to him. 

He stands up, and sees that he is taller by a few inches, but that doesn’t diminish the thrumming of his heart. He did not know what he was nervous about, of his sudden pledge to the Lady or her possible choice of shunning him. Delia looks at him thoughtfully up and down, before meeting his eyes once again. She seems to be searching for something there, and found it, because what she did next made no sense and made him fall for her more. 

She smiled, not the grin Faeries often do that results in trickery, but a genuine one. Julian feels his heart sigh. 

She turns to his fellow Shadowhunters, before turning to the Queen and bowing her head politely. “I believe that since he pledged himself to me, I shall pledge myself to him as well.”

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One day, the Shadowhunters said. Julian Blackthorn will only remain in the land under the hill for one day. After that, he shall be brought back to the mundane world, and continue his duty as Nephilim. They did not know what they agreed to, for time works different in Faerie.

On his first day, Julian was introduced to Lady Delia. She learns that she’s a daughter of a water nymph, and indeed a princess of the Seelie Court. Delia showed her powers to him using the element of water. He tried to do it himself several times too. It led to them both soaked by the end of the day. The night ended on their first kiss and his first chance to touch her fair hair. You are not hard to like, Julian Blackthorn, she said with a shy smile. 

In the first week, Delia taught him the culture of the fey, bringing him in revels and parties. He enjoyed these celebrations, and they danced their hearts out every time. During these times, Julian was not left out by the folk, as he usually felt.  It did not matter anyway, for Delia’s company was everything he needed. The week ended with their first night together, her golden hair in tangles. She was at her most beautiful to him that time, so raw and vulnerable. I love you, Delia, I am yours, he whispered in between pants and gasps. 

In the first month, the princess brought him to his first Faerie meeting. The Queen, though reluctant with his presence, did not say anything, as well as the other Faeries. He offered solutions and actions, his Shadowhunter skills exuded. This made him some friends but still more enemies. It did not matter, though, for Delia was proud. He has fully earned her trust. The month ended with Delia whispering amongst her moans, her hair like waterfalls gripped by her lover, I love you, Julian Blackthorn, I love you more than starlight.

In the first year, Julian and Delia left the Court for a while and decided to reside in a cottage by the seas. They enjoyed their endless private hours and taught each other a lot. Delia taught him how to swim, what fruits can be eaten, how to catch pixies, and how to read the stars. Julian taught him of the classics and myths, told her stories of his youth, told her of his brothers and sisters, who he dearly missed. It did not matter though, for he was happy with her. After a few months, Delia thought it was time to share something of herself with him. Her real name. Emma, she said, it means universe. Julian tried it off his lips, brushing it against her hair and ears, Emma, he uttered, my universe. 

In the second year, they got married. It surprised the whole Court, for marriage was a heavy commitment that many do not wish to even dwell on, even more so with a Shadowhunter. Many have asked the princess if she was certain, and Emma did not think twice before saying that she is countless times. I am not deluded, she says with steel in her expression. Despite the feys’ reluctance, the wedding was held, and a celebration took place all over the Seelie Court. Some congratulated them, while others continued throwing Julian looks of hate, for his Nephilim blood and their jealousy of not getting the princess’ favor. He did not care, for it was the happiest day of his life, and no one can ruin that for him. Julian and Emma never got to finish the party, opting to retreat back to their cottage by the sea. They made love countless times, pronouncing words of adoration and love. Emma Blackthorn, my wife, he says, tucking her golden locks behind her pointed ears.

In the third year, they tried to conceive a child, to no avail. It was hard for Faerie women to reproduce, and to carry a child with Shadowhunter blood was harder. This led to a lot of tears and sadness for Emma, but Julian stood by her. He was fine with having no children, for Emma was enough. But they did not give hope, for having a child would be the manifestation of their love for each other. Julian soothed her with comforting words and visions of the future. One day, we would have little ones with my blue-green eyes and your hair like sunlight, he says.

In the fourth year, Emma bore a child. They received the news with cries of happiness, from Emma most of all. She thought she was barren, but thankfully she was not. The gender they were yet to find out, but Julian was already excited to become a father. He started telling her of what he would teach their son or daughter. I would tell him stories of gods and heroes, and teach him how to hold a crossbow, he told his wife in delight. Emma’s smile faltered a bit.

In the next two months, Julian treated Emma the best way a husband can treat his pregnant wife. Human pregnancy is not far from faerie ones, as it seems. There were times when she cannot stand up herself, so he carries her around the cottage or the Court, wherever they are. There were times when she empties out her stomach, and he is there to rub her back and keep her hair away from her face. There were times when they would wait for the child to kick Emma’s still small stomach, and he would exclaim in delight, uttering promises to the kid and kissing his wife’s belly. Once you’re out there, I’ll teach you a proper kick, so that you’ll be able to fight demons soon, he states. Emma swallows the lump in her throat.

In the third month, Emma watches Julian sleep peacefully beside her. He’s laid on his stomach, exposing his bare back and the countless dark and faded runes that cascade his skin. He is a Shadowhunter. She touches his brown locks, causing him to stir but not waking him. She notices the growing small stubble on his jaw, and remembers the other truth she kept neglecting for so long. He is mortal. She looks at her small bump, and feels tears burning her eyes. One day they would leave me, she thought.

On the same day, she asks him if he ever wants to go back to the mundane world. Julian freezes from his cooking, and turns to look at Emma. She was expressionless, and he knows that whatever his answer would be, she will not judge him. He carefully approaches her and holds her hand. I love the life that I have here, with you. Nothing will ever change that, he says. Emma hugs him and cries, but not out of relief. One day they would have to leave me, she thought.

On the same night, they made love again and again and again until they were both exhausted. Emma kept declaring her love, in word and in deed, surprising Julian, making him both happy and confused at the same time. You don’t need to exhaust yourself, my love. We have the rest of our lives for this, he says. Instead of stopping, Emma continued until dawn. I’m in love with you, Julian Blackthorn, were the words repeated over and over again.

Emma did not sleep after that. She couldn’t sleep, and she has no time to do so. With one last kiss to his lips, she entered his mind. She saw the past years on his head, never-ending ending images and memories of her and the life they’ve spent together. Emma couldn’t help but cry. They were all lovely, and she loved him more for what she’s seeing now. And because she loves him so, it explains her next actions. Emma took all of these memories from his mind, and twisted them to false ones. In the new memories she crafted, Julian was held captive by her, and doomed to be hers for eternity against his will. He forgets her real name, forgets that they will have a child, forgets that he loves her. She planted a plan of escape on his mind, which will be successful, because it was orchestrated by her.  With the worst of her sobs over and all good memories of her gone, she wakes him. 

Those blue-green orbs of his that were filled with love hours before met hers with hate. Emma felt her heart break into a thousand pieces, but she wore the mask that Faeries put on. Julian quickly stands and dresses himself, before finding a dagger on the bedside table. He grabs it and viciously points it to Emma, or Lady Delia, in his memories. He shouts and slashes, asking what she had done to him, and she weakly dodges his attacks, before letting him plant the dagger on her throat. I detest your kind, and most of all you, he declares with scorn and pure hatred, before fleeing Emma’s room, escaping.

Emma feels the weight of the dagger on her throat, but bears it no mind. Her heart was in more pain, and she was crying because of it. She slowly takes the dagger out and shakily heals herself. The dagger was intentional, and she knows that he will hurt her with it. I should have let him kill me, instead of bearing this sadness for the rest of my days, she thought as she lays on the floor and weeps. 

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The Clave spread the news of Julian Blackthorn’s captivity and escape in Faerie. The story was that he was bargained to stay in exchange of the Nephilim child taken by the Folk. That the Lady Delia, a princess of the Seelie Court, grew interested and took him for herself. She made her drink enchanted potions that made him think he loves her. Some might say that they had an affair, or he was tortured to please her, or he was her plaything, anything but the truth Emma removed from Julian’s mind. Emma heard the news of what her image was to the Shadow World now. It does not matter, she says to herself, putting her hands over her grown belly. 

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Emma gives birth to their child. It was a girl, with her hair and Julian’s eyes. As she holds the crying baby to her chest, she remembers a sweet and painful memory. One day, we would have little ones with my blue-green eyes and your hair like sunlight. She tears up and kisses her daughter’s forehead. The manifestation of our love, Salacia, she whispers.

Emma gave birth to another child, who she bore just a few months after giving birth to her daughter. This time it was a boy with chocolate hair, and when it opened its eyes, another set of ocean orbs looked back at her. She fell in love once again, the pain still fresh as if it was just yesterday. You’ll be as handsome as your father one day, These, she whispers.

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She hears from a source that he is already married, and currently resides in the Los Angeles Institute. She smiles weakly at the thought that he chose a home by the sea. Some memories may be too strong to kill. Despite her better judgement, she decides to see the place herself one day. She hides by the rocks where the waves hit. It was morning, and the Institute was a silent building towering the quiet shore. She hears the front door open and hides herself, her eyes peeking over the rocks. She gasps.

There he was, older and more built, but instead of a rougher exterior, he exudes a softer aura. Emma did not have to think why, because the reason came right out of the door after him. Behind Julian came a woman, a small dark haired one with a kind face. She was holding a baby in her arms. 

Emma feels tears falling from her eyes, though unsure if it was of happiness or sadness. The couple walked by the shore and took turns holding the child. Their child. In those moments, Emma saw what he could have been for their children, if only she let him stay. Emma shook her head. No. Making him stay in the land under the hill would be selfish of me, she thought. However, she could not help but think of how unfair she had been to her children for not being with their father. With one last look, she made another heavy choice and left.  

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Julian heard the bell of the Sanctuary ring. He stops from cooking breakfast and tries to look for his wife, Mia Trueblood, a Shadowhunter born and bred from the Los Angeles Institute. Seeing as she may still be asleep and no one else was around, he turned off the stove and hurried to the Sanctuary. 

Walking inside, he saw no one, only a pair of large baskets by the outside doors. He peeked at both and froze. Inside each was a baby, both with pointed ears and the familiar Blackthorn blue eyes. One was a girl with golden-hair and one was a boy with familiar brown hair. There was no message or anything else with them, but Julian already knew what they were doing here. 

He dashed to the Sanctuary entrance doors and opened them, seeing a blonde figure hurriedly walking towards the sea. He shouts her name, the one he knows of.

She freezes and turns her head. She swallows her emotions. I love you, she wants to say. Take care of them from now on, she utters instead, before being swallowed by the waves. 

Julian stood stunned by the Institute, before going back to the kids. He watches them both for a while, in awe of how they both resemble him and Lady Delia. He felt a surge of love for them both. Despite the hatred on his mind, his heart was telling him to do as she says. Ultimately, Julian takes both children out of the baskets and carries them to his room. Mia was already awake, and was confused by the presence of the babies. My children, he answers. I love you more than starlight, he thought, but the voice in his mind was not his.