#shadowhunters a problem of memory discussion
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I have a question related to the cider verse. There was only something about why Alec never told his siblings that he was dating Magnus. Does Magnus tell someone? Ragnor, Raphael, or Catarina. Also, when they were getting married, they were only discussing whether Alec wanted to invite his siblings. There is nothing about Magnus wanting to have anyone close to him during his wedding.
so Jem is going to be able to share his memories of the ceremony eventually when they all meet up and this is a nephilim ceremony. like they're married, they are bound, they are eternally tied together but they haven't completed the ritual/warlock/consort aspect of their marriage and relationship yet
most rituals like that require time to nurture magic inside your consort or the ritual you're using and this was a quick problem solve.
this was an elopement and magnus offered for alecs siblings to be there because they aren't going be allowed to be at the warlock ceremony and magnus knows that alec's not going to want to deal with another nephilim ceremony just to include his siblings
they're in the middle of a budding war, they don't have time for a beautiful ceremony with downworlders and shadowhunters alike. alecs siblings would never have been invited if cat and ragnor were attending because magnus wouldn't have trusted them with the knwledge that ragnor is so close to him.
and cat and ragnor dn't care about this ceremony. they care about the ceremony that they'll be actively involved in and can share the joy and magic of it with magnus and thats mre important to him too
like if alec can't trust them to tell them he's in a relationship, magnus isn't going to risk sharing his closest friends and the ties he shares with them that could be used against him and them
magnus never intended to invite them. he doesn't care because they'll be at the most important ceremony possible for warlocks when he has time to do that with alec and also their safety is paramount.
raphael imo is not nearly as important a witness as cat and ragnor to magnus and no way is magnus having either of those come near a silent brther (even if it is jem) when the tensions are this high. there is a risk other silent brthers could track jem (as slim as it is) and jem knws better too.
what they're doing isn't illegal, but magus isn't about to implicate anyone important to him and the clave would target warlock witnesses over nephilim
i hpe that makes sense?
and sorry my 'o' key is iffy and i tend to save my editing spons for writing
<3 lumine
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season 1, episode 5 discussion post
1. “Emotions are nothing but a distraction, you’re ruled by them. we’re taught to control them:” -Alec. in his own way, he’s got a point. he wasn’t able to complete the ritual or whatever so clary could get her memories. he may not be doing the best but his point is, he’s trying to control them so they don’t rule his entire being. but parabatai’s can’t fall in love (due to CC and her weird ass writing) (and the incest shit she loves) (and this is another reason why I hate Alec + jace pairing or whatever you want to call it)
2. Alec is in charge of the institute so if that means taking the portal necklace so Valentine can’t try to get in the institute, then that’s his responsibility. “If I were Valentine, I’d make you think that you could rescue Jocelyn. And then I’d lure clary to me and leverage her life for the cup.” this is actually funny because it’s almost what jace and clary do. they go and rescue Jocelyn and almost give Valentine the cup lmao
3. god these two are so fucking exhausting
4. “Valentine is a real threat. He can’t be handled by three and a half shadowhunters” HE CALLED YOUR ASS OUT 😭💀 I love that Alec doesn’t even think she’s a full ass shadowhunter because same
5. “I’ll take that risk on my own.”- clary “the problem is you’re not on your own. you’re part of us now.” thank you Izzy for telling this self involved half shadowhunter dumbass that other people are involved. literally clary is running around this place acting like she’s in charge and throwing out orders. GIRL THERE ARE MULTIPLE COMMUNITIES AND SPECIES INVOLVED BUT I GUESS CLARY KNOWS BEST?
6. and this is something that always bothers me about clary. she thinks the cup only affects her. she thinks she can go on these million errands and barely plan stuff and say a little sorry and be fine. I don’t think she genuinely cares that it’s not just about her.
7. “she sounds more like a friend than a mom.” right you are Izzy. and it’s probably why we are here because Jocelyn didn’t parent clary. I get Jocelyn wanted to keep clary safe but she should have found a way to do that while also informing clary of dangers. it reminds me of Benedict and Tatiana Lightwood. he never trained her and taught her anything but to cry and scream revenge when she didn’t get her way. even if you don’t want her to be a shadowhunter, that’s her choice to make but at least prepare her
8. I do like these two being besties. I wouldn’t want to be clary’s bestie (I mean who would? I’d die by irritation) but I like this change. in the books Izzy is mean to clary (rightfully so) but clary is also rude to Izzy in the books. she doesn’t like Izzy mostly because she’s pretty, and clary makes a point to say this about Maia. I think it’s something “curvy and pretty? oh I hate her” it’s something above those lines. Clary is so fucking misogynistic in the books. she has internal thoughts about how guys are gross and misogynistic but she’s doing the exact same thing. that’s why I do like they changed this in the show
9. I love Izzy. she’s such a girls girl
10. “you look just like your mother.”- Maryse. ok so why is everyone saying clary and Jocelyn look exactly alike? THEY DONT
11. I hated finding these gifs BUT THEY LOOK NOTHING ALIKE. even in the books, clary first starts out saying that she never saw the resemblance and how her mom is prettier and then basically goes the next couple books saying how she looks just like her. y’all aren’t the twins you think you are. Jocelyn even says how it’s the hair. clary’s hair here is orange and Jocelyn’s is more of a dark reddish brown (I think??????) I’m sorry but they look nothing alike lmao
12. Maryse comes off as a rude bitch but I can see why she’s upset. this child has been running errands, not informing the clave, and just doing whatever the fuck she wants. everything that is getting reported from the New York institute is in the hands of the lightwoods. you also have to look at it from the clave’s perspective. THEY HAVE VALENTINES DAUGHTER RUNNING AROUND
13. isn’t it kinda funny that Maryse is watching jace in admiration and next season she’s going to be helping in his arrest 💀 awkward 😬
14. “shadowhunters aren’t big huggers” Izzy says as Maryse hugs jace right in front of her 😭 barely even hugs Alec but at least he gets a kiss on the cheek. SOMEONE GIVE IZZY SOME LOVE
15. side note- I feel this for Izzy. my parents always preferred my brother over me and parents doing this in front of you hurts. poor Izzy season one
16. “I have seelie friends.”-Izzy “I know all about your friends” Maryse. girl did you just insinuate your daughter is a slut?
17. SHE IS JUST COMFORTABLE WITH HER BODY AND THATS OKAY!!!!!!!!! I really hate how a lot of people were branding Izzy a slut because of how she was dressing. CC during this time tweeted hateful shit about Em. I can’t remember the wording but it was something about how Isabelle doesn’t dress that way (which she did) and then she changed Izzy later in TDA wearing longer outfits and stuff. why does it matter how she dresses? why does it matter if she likes to fuck? men get away with it and can fuck whoever and it’s not a big deal but if a women does it, shame on her. she’s only seen so far with meliorn so why are they making her out to be some whore? who cares if she has many friends? Jace does the same but no one ever talks bad about it
18. side note- Izzy is fucking beautiful and she can wear whatever she pleases. I love her outfits and I love a woman who is comfortable with her body 👏🏼
19. “we stay separate from the downworlders for good reason. the wrong move, the wrong word. do you think there’s such thing as harmless rebellion. who knows what offends these creatures?” girl wait until you find out your son is about to date the most infamous (just saying) high warlock of Brooklyn lmao Maryse is part of the problem because she’s treating them as some enemy she can’t have civil discussions with. she treats them as almost less than and one of the reasons why valentines rebellions worked I’m assuming. I want to know what happened after Thomas and Alastair’s time of lightwoods to roberts time as lightwoods. what happened to y’all? there’s so much hate.
20. “Alec. I want you with the Fairchild girl. she’s caused enough trouble and I want her under control.” indeed she has but why must we punish Alec? 😭 boy has been through enough
21. Clary’s excuse is because she just found out about being a shadowhunter. I will give her points because this is true but she is 18 years of age. she knows right from wrong. she’s gone to school in the mundane world so she understands the world of order. one of my problems with clary is that she acts like she’s some 12 year old when she’s legally an adult. you know that every government has rules. we all get she misses her mother but when she risks the safety of everyone and is careless and self conceited, it’s hard to have sympathy for her
22. “the clave counts on us lightwoods to retain order.” GOOOOOOOO MARYSE TELL THAT CHILD BASIC COMMON SENSE
23. “What did you do to piss off your mom?”-clary “I’d guess for a start, all the unsactioned missions on your behalf didn’t go over that big with the clave.”-alec. LITERALLY SHE THOUGHT SHE COULD GO RUNNING AROUND AND THERE WOULDNT BE CONSEQUENCES SMH
24. same Alec, same. that’s how I feel when she talks
25. “I love you alec, we’re parabatai” jace, you just hurt Alec 🙃 alec really was like you love ME? poor soul
26. Alec is like that’s not what I meant bro 😭
part 2 coming near a theatre near you ✨
#anti cassandra clare#anti cc#just my stupid opinions#anti clace#anti clary fray#magnus bane#anti jace herondale#alec lightwood#show magnus is superior#show alec is superior#putting anti cc on all show shadowhunter posts because i don’t want an pro book fans hating on my shit#shadowhunter show is superior#shadowhunters tv#man this bitch is exhausting#poor Izzy and Alec
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okay okay so in shrek forever after shrek has like one day to revert the magic and return the world to its original state or it become permanent for good (the only way to revert the magic is with true love kiss btw). what if magnus only realize his previous unmagicified life with alec like 5 minutes before it’s a new day. what then
Part I
Part III
Three months. It’s been three months since Magnus has been living with a huge ass whole inside his chest. Like he went for a surgery where the doctors cut him open but never stitched him back again.
Only the insane part about all of this is that Magnus doesn’t even remember the surgery he went in for.
He’s so fucking sure something is going on, that’s he’s losing it but there’s no one he can go to—no one he can confide in with this problem because how do you solve an issue that doesn’t even exist outside his mind.
But even if Magnus doesn’t understand most things, doesn’t have enough clues, one thing he is absolutely sure about. That this, all of this, connect to one man.
Alexander Gideon Lightwood.
Ever since that Magnus met the man, he’s been feeling a hundred different kinds of way.
And he knows he has a tendency to exaggerate, has time and again blew things out of proportion for an infatuation or attraction but this isn’t it. While he knows he’s attracted to Alec and would love to climb him, he knows whatever this is, isn’t his libido making him feel.
This is something far deeper, far more significant.
“Magnus?” A voice, the voice brings him back from his thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“Where did you go?” Alec asks. “We were discussing about the issue with the demon towers in Alicante.”
“Yes, of course. My apologies, Alexander,” he exhales.
“That’s okay.” Alec takes another sip of his drinks and winces, like he does every time.
I should have made him that other drink.
He’s been having random thoughts like this all the time.
That Alec would prefer a cocktail over this beer he keeps on asking for.
That he would like chocolate bars.
Or that he would like his coffee better if he’d put two cubes of sugar instead of one.
He doesn’t know why but he keeps on thinking he knows more about Alec than he does and what an insane fucking thought is that?
He finally goes to Catarina with this. It surprises him when Catarina doesn’t dismiss him.
“Weirder things have happened in our world, Magnus. If you think something is wrong, we should atleast check it.”
He pulls Cat in a hug, relieved that she believes him. Because of Cat doesn’t believe Magnus, what choices does he have left with?
They go over all the possible theories but come up with nothing.
And then everything goes to shit one fine night as the lot of shadowhunter stands in Magnus’s loft for a demon summoning.
Magnus remembers a demon summoning between the very same loft, one that hadn’t ended well. He’d hoped that this one would be different.
He’s proved wrong not ten minutes later when a memory of the person you loved the most resurfaces for everyone to see.
A memory of Clary smiling appears from Jace’s mind.
A memory of Simon and Alec laughing together from Isabelle.
Magnus sees a small smile appear on Alec’s face at the memory.
It’s Alec’s turn and there’s a memory of Isabelle and Jace and Max.
He expects Alec to smile at the memory but a sad smile appears on his face and Magnus wonders for a second before his heart breaks. He imagines how suffocating and heartbreaking it must be to be married and not in love.
Alec and Lydia do not love each other is a fact that Magnus picked up on very quickly. It’s a marriage of convenience.
He thinks of Alec’s rare smiles that he’s only ever witnessed occasionally. Alec is smart and beautiful and has a dry sense of humour that never fails to make him laugh.
He’s fighting for a better world for shadowhunters and downworlders. He fights every single minute of his life with the world and Magnus wishes that the man had one place, in his home, with his partner where he didn’t have to fight.
Alec sniffles at the memory and looks away but there’s a second when both their eyes match. Magnus looks away for he can’t see Alec in pain and it’s insane because he barely knows the man.
They’ve formed an easy friendship now but that’s what it is—a friendship. Because Alec is married, even if it’s in name, there are lines that Magnus would never cross. And Alec doesn’t seem the type to either.
Then Simon and Clary’s turn comes and for both of them, it’s a memory of the other one. They exchange a beautiful smile at that.
And then in an instant, everything turns to hell when it’s his turn because this time, it’s a memory of Alec.
It’s from one of those rare days when Alec laughed in a way that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. The memory focuses on Alec’s faces and anyone with a single functioning braincell could feel Magnus’s feelings.
“What the fuck?” Jace yells, followed by everyone else.
Alec breaks the circle as he stands up, his eyes widen, face filled with horror.
“Magnus—what?”
He looks embarrassed and it quickly changes to anger. “How could you—what?” Alec tries but nothing else comes up.
“Alexander, listen,” Magnus swallows, knowing that if Alec leaves, he’s never going to be able to fix this. Even though he doesn’t know what this is—he needs Alec to stay. “I know this must all be confusing. It’s for me as well but I think that there’s more to what we’re seeing. There’s something between us and I—-“
Alec raises a hand.
There’s a pin drop of silence before Alec stares at him, fire in his eyes as he says, “Don’t ever come near me again.”
Isabelle and Jace’s eyes sadden suddenly, as if they know, and he’s sure they know why Alec is so shocked about this. Isabelle puts a comforting hand on his shoulder before they all leave.
Clary tries to stay but Magnus asks her to leave.
He needs time.
He falls to the floor, clutching his head in his hand as he tries to figure out what’s wrong. He yells out of despair, of feeling like he’s living with half his organs, half his mind, half his memories and all the pain let’s him to lose control and Magnus unleashes his magic onto the world. He needs to get Alec out of his brain so he wracks inside his brain and takes out all the memories of Alec, from every pit and crevice inside his brain and throws them outside.
A few second in, Magnus is surrounded by blue magic around him, memories and memories of Alec around him. Magnus’s eyes widen as he goes through them.
There are hundreds of memories and he knows for a fact that while these are his memories, he doesn’t remember living them.
There’s his first meeting with Alec. First—first meeting.
Alec and Magnus playing polo.
Alec grinning as he cooks French roast for them.
Dancing.
Alec almost dying. Multiple times.
Magnus in Edom. Alec in Edom.
Smiles and happiness and love—so much love.
The one that completely breaks Magnus’s heart is the one where they’re getting married.
And their wedding night.
Alec becoming Inquisitor and kissing the daylights out of him when he tells him.
Then the memories turn more somber. Darker. Sadder.
“I want to go home.” “This is home, Magnus.”
He doesn’t even have to wait, he knows the words already on his lips.
“I wish I had never married you, Alexander.”
And Magnus remembers.
He remembers why it’s been feeling like he’s living without his heart—because he was. His heart was living outside his body, in a world that’s created by Magnus’s anger and despair.
One moment of weakness and Magnus’s entire life changed.
By his own doing.
“Alexander,” Magnus falls to the ground and cries for his husband. “What did I do?“
After a few hours of lying on the floor mourning his life, Magnus goes to Cat.
He tells her everything and cries in her arms. “Cat, Alec—Alec is my husband. I remember. I remember him. Please I need to—I need to fix this. I need him back,” he cries.
It’s an ancient curse is what their research tells them. Now that he remembers, it’s easier to find the source.
“I need to talk to Alec…I—“
A huge gasp leaves Catarina’s mouth and he turns.
“Catarina what? What now?”
“It’s 11:55pm.”
“And?”
“Fuck!” Cat exclaims.
“Catarina, what?”
“I’m sorry, Magnus. But tomorrow morning, you won’t remember him.”
“What?” He says in horror.
“The memories will be lost forever.”
Alec will be lost forever.
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Shadowhunters Season 2 Episode 15 -- A Problem of Memory -- Review/Discussion
I’m back again with another Shadowhunters review. I feel really bad about being so late on these. I’m not getting a whole lot of inspiration with these episodes lately. But oh well. This time we have Shadowhunters Season 2 Episode 15 – A Problem of Memory. I found myself very satisfied with this episode. By no means would I say that I liked it. But I was satisfied with it.
This is going to be an honest review of my thoughts and feelings regarding this episode. If you’re the kind of Shadowhunters fan where you only want to hear positive things about the show, this is not the place for you. If you decide to stick around and get offended by what is said, then that’s on you. I warned you. Just know that if you send me any rude comments or messages, I will 100% ignore you. I find that’s the best way to deal with bullies. I work 14 hour days. Do you really think I want to waste my incredibly valuable free time dealing with derogatory comments? Hell no. This review will consist of my honest opinions. Opinions are never right or wrong. I’m not telling you how to think and feel. So please, let’s discuss with dignity and respect. If I’m critical about the show, it’s only because I want it to get better. There is, in fact, a difference between hating a show and being critical of it. I do not hate Shadowhunters; I am being critical and analyzing the flaws as I would with any other show. There are positives but there are also negatives. It’s great if you want to promote positivity with this show (and I encourage you to do so) but that doesn’t mean you should acknowledge the things that are legitimately wrong with it. Also, keep in mind that despite the fact that I do love the books, me being critical of this show has nothing to do with my love of the books. I don’t really care if the show deviates from the source material as long as it’s good and it makes sense. My problems with this show are problems that I would have with any show or book for that matter. I think it’s perfectly reasonable to take issue with a show that has plot holes, shoddy world-building and inconsistent characters. There will be spoilers for the books and movies.
Alright, so ultimately, I was pretty satisfied with this episode. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I liked it but it was moderately entertaining. There were stretches within the episode where I was legitimately bored, though. I watched this episode on Tuesday after it aired, which was my birthday, and I was far more interested in the game of Scrabble I was playing with my friends. I play a mean Scrabble, btw. Obviously, I didn’t feel too strongly about this episode considering how late I am in writing this. I feel like this has been happening a lot with 2B. The episodes have been leaving me with a general feeling of apathy. The episodes are satisfying but they’re also not dragging me into the story which is a very disconcerting feeling for me. Supernatural/fantasy type shows are my catnip. I typically love these kinds of shows and I want them to last for a good amount of time. I am sad that The Vampire Diaries has finished. I am sad that we’re almost done with Teen Wolf. The Originals is always one foot away from the chopping block (although I am hoping it sticks around for a little while longer so that Klaroline has a chance to grace my screen again). Pretty soon, I’m not going to have that many more fantasy type shows for me to cling on to. I guess we’ll always have Supernatural, though that is one fantasy show I wish would end. It has gone on for far too long in my opinion.
More Love Triangle BS
So we got the love triangle stuff with Jace/Clary/Simon still going on. This was kind of where my boredom was starting to surface within this episode. I don’t think there’s a word in the English vocabulary that epitomizes how much I don’t care about this love triangle. I barely tolerated it in the books and in the show, it’s completely insufferable. The only saving grace this plot point has is that it’s finally going to push Simon into some plot arcs that don’t center around Clary for once. At least I hope so. Simon, throughout his character arc, has always been following Clary’s plots around like a lost puppy and I’m interested in seeing where the story is going to take him now. Speaking of which, I got a little excited in this episode when Simon finally blows up at Clary. That was great. I think I enjoy it a little too much whenever people do yell at Clary. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, I get super happy. It’s like a drug for me. And I’m sorry to you Show Clary fans who adore her but I cannot stand her. Any scene that she’s in, I want to skip past. I just do not care about her at all. Which really shouldn’t be happening with a main character but what can you do? And I actually recently had an epiphany on why I don’t really like Clary. And it’s not for any of the shallow reasons that some people dislike about her i.e. her always needing to be saved. It’s nothing like that. I’m actually in the process of writing a post about my dislike of her character in the show. So if you follow me, you’ll have that to look forward to. But anyways, I’m not a fan on how the show is doing this love triangle. I think it was a mistake to portray Climon as this great epic love. By the show doing this, they wrote themselves into a corner because now there’s really no way to finish out this love triangle story without it turning into a cliché teenage melodrama. I was a fan of Simon in this episode. He treated Clary exactly how I wanted him to. Clary is being her typical selfish self by blaming everyone but herself. I have no sympathy for her. I did see this one post where the blogger had talked about Simon being overly dramatic and that he doesn’t really have a right to be angry with Clary. Clary didn’t ask for Simon to be in love with her and all that jazz. Now, that kind of talk I would find acceptable with Book Clary and Simon. Book Clary was fairly obvious about her feelings being different from the feelings Simon had. However, this argument doesn’t work as well in the show. Because Clary had given no indication whatsoever that she wasn’t all in for Simon. In fact, she was telling Simon the exact opposite. Jace revealed they weren’t really siblings and she straight up didn’t care. She even reassured Simon that she wanted to be with him (Simon). That is straight up leading him on even if it may have been slightly unintentional. But anyways, Clary was trying her hardest to get Simon to take her back and forget what all had happened but Simon’s not having it. I don’t know why she thought that would work. Clary is trying so hard to preserve this relationship but she’s not stopping to think and ask, “What does Simon want? What does Simon deserve?” He deserves to be with someone who loves him as much as he once loved Clary. I really like what Simon says to Clary when Clary tells him she loves him. “Stop! Don’t say that because you don’t mean it like I mean it.” I’m glad that Simon is showing Clary that she needs to hold herself accountable for her actions (something she never does in the show) and that not everything can be so easily forgiven. I’m glad the show is finally starting to do this with Clary’s character. One of my biggest gripes with the show is how willing the show is to forgive Clary for everything and no one ever holds her accountable for anything. I hope the show tries to do more with that.
Simon had his own plot arc going on in this episode which I kind of enjoyed. I did have a couple of issues with it, though. First issue was that it’s such a predictable plot. I can’t tell you how many shows I’ve seen where I’ve seen this plot point used. Never for a second did I actually believe Simon killed that girl. Why was I so sure? Because despite Freeform’s best efforts in making this show “edgy and racy,” they can’t help but to play it safe. Freeform is too afraid to go into something really dark like actually having Simon accidentally kill someone while he was under this blood-induced euphoric state. I think that would’ve been a really interesting direction to take his character. It would’ve been interesting to see how he dealt with that issue. I really wanted them to do it but ultimately, they fell back on bad habits. I know, Simon killed that vampire who framed him but that’s hardly the same thing. The emotional response we could’ve gotten from Simon would’ve been so much stronger if he had accidentally killed an innocent girl who put her trust in his ability to control himself as opposed to killing someone out of self defense. Disappointing but what can you do? I could write a book on all of the missed potential this show had with its plot arcs. I am a little upset that the show seems to be kind of writing off Izzy’s addiction too. They’re just saying she’s going to meetings to help with her addiction issues but we haven’t seen anything that shows she’s really struggling or anything that shows where she’s currently at in the recovery process. Which brings me to my second issue. When the vampire brings Simon to that club to feed on willing humans, I had a hard time believing that Simon would actually want to do this. Particularly since he knows about Izzy. It probably would have worked better if Simon hadn't known about Izzy’s problem and was just finding out that it’s possible for people to become addicted to vampire venom. But the fact that he knew about Izzy’s struggles and yet he was so willing to give this a try didn’t really sit well with me. I guess he was already intoxicated from that plasma shot he had maybe. I don’t know. It also confused me on why he didn’t realize that these kinds of dens may exist after Izzy confessed to him that she’s addicted to vampire venom. Did he never question where she was getting her fix? Obviously, she never went to one of these dens but Simon doesn’t know about her relationship with Raphael. And on the other side of things in 2A, why did Izzy risk being killed by Blondie Vamp when she could’ve easily gone to one of these dens? Ugh, so many plot holes once you start actually thinking.
But ultimately, I could get behind this plot point because it’s finally showing Simon trying to find his own way in the Shadow World instead of clinging on to Clary. It’s about him trying to figure out who he is and where he belongs in the Shadow World. He has ties to the mundane world, the shadowhunter world, and the downworld but yet doesn’t fit in completely with any of them. I’m really excited to see where this story is going to take him. This plot definitely had its flaws but the idea of the plot is what sold it for me. But that’s Shadowhunters for you. They always have really great ideas; it’s the execution that’s the problem.
Luke’s partner was also featured pretty heavily in this plot point too and I wish they would just drop this character. I don’t know what’s going on with her and what part she’s actually going to play but she’s completely unnecessary. This show has waaaaaaaaay more characters than they know what to do with. I really hope this show gets to the point of her as a character soon because she absolutely bores me whenever she’s on screen.
Aline Is Here
Aline has also made her debut into the tv show. I’ll be honest. In the books, I never really understood the fandom’s fondness for Aline. She’s not a bad character or anything. I don’t hate her, I just don’t care about her. We don’t spend a whole lot of time with her in the books and she never left me with any sort of impression. She was there and she and Helen are kind of cute, I guess, but again the books never spent a lot of time with developing Aline and Helen. So when people were badgering the showrunners about when Aline is going to show up, I really didn’t care. She showed up in this episode and I liked her scenes but ultimately, I still didn’t really care. I’m interested to see her in future episodes. The dynamic that she appears to have with the real Sebastian Verlac was nice to see. I’m definitely interested to see how Helen is going to pop up in this show and what the show does with her and Aline. Aline and Izzy also had a really nice relationship. I was beginning to wonder if Izzy was friends with anyone besides Clary. She doesn’t seem to socialize with any of the other shadowhunters at the Institute. Seriously, did Izzy have any friends before Clary showed up? But I’m always happy to see positive female relationships. I know this fandom has a pretty big Romantic Clizzy fanbase but I hope the show doesn’t go there. And before anyone jumps down my throat, no, it’s not because I’m bigoted and I don’t want to see a lesbian couple. Obviously, I don’t feel that way since Malec is one of my ultimate OTPs. TV these days really needs more supportive female friendships and that’s what I like about Clizzy. That’s what I liked about Aline and Izzy. And I want to see the show continuing on with that. Not all chemistry is romantic, guys. Sometimes there’s chemistry that works better as friends. And not all chemistry should be romantic.
We also had Will Tudor being his usual awesome self. This time he was playing both the real Sebastian and Jonathon. The talent this guy has, he has far too much talent for this show. Every scene he’s in, he outshines everyone else. Which is what makes the reveal at the end of the episode a little saddening. Jonathon finds a way to spring Valentine from the Clave and when Valentine is brought before him, Jonathon reveals his true self a la shapeshifting rune – a burnt, walking talking corpse, apparently. I really hate that rune. When I saw that reveal at the end of the episode, though, I burst out laughing. I think the last time I laughed so hard in this show was back in 2A when Jocelyn showed Clary the vision of Jonathon as the demon child where he made a flower wilt. I laughed pretty hard in that scene and laughed a lot in this scene. It’s just such a Disney thing to do. Of course, the villain would turn out to be this burned corpse because you can’t be attractive and evil at the same time. I can’t say I’m surprised though. Freeform is owned by Disney. Again, like I said before, it’s a very safe way to go about the series. Now, before anyone tries to claw my eyes out or anything, my problems with the reveal have ABSOLUTELY nothing to do with the fact that this is different from the books. That’s not my issue. I just think Jonathon being this attractive character but gets so progressively evil that his soul kind of warps into that of a demon’s is a much more interesting theme to explore than having him be this burnt up corpse. There is evil in beauty. That and it means Will Tudor as Jonathan has a time limit which is sad. He’s so fantastic as an actor that I literally could watch a 40 minute episode of Shadowhunters with it just being Jonathon formulating his evil plans. I’m sure Shadowhunters has a plan on where they’re going to go with this burnt corpse idea. I just hope it’s not going to be cliché Disney villain plot point. I’m sure this plot point was also taken so they could better explain why no one is noticing that Sebastian Verlac is not the real Sebastian Verlac. The Season 1 writers really wrote themselves into a corner when they made shadowhunters compatible with technology. The current writers really had no choice but to use the rune in this instance.
Malec This Episode
So Malec was pretty great this episode. We actually got scenes that lasted for more than thirty seconds this time around. Alec can tell that something is wrong with Magnus but Magnus is refusing to open up to Alec. Magnus is having problems dealing with his mother’s death and the repercussions of this death but he’s refusing to open up to Alec about this until Alec finally convinces him to talk about it. An excellent use of throwing Magnus’ words back at him. Magnus once told Alec that when things get tough, to not push him away. And here, Alec tells him the same thing. I was glad to hear it. Magnus comes clean that when he was tortured with the “agony” rune (I still can’t say that with a straight face – it makes no sense for why such a rune would exist) he was forced to relive the memory of him finding his mother after she committed suicide and his father lashing out at Magnus about it. Magnus uses his magic to kill his stepfather and admits to Alec that he had full control of his powers back then; he wanted to kill his stepfather. Magnus tells Alec that he wanted to keep this from Alec because he didn’t want Alec so see this “ugly” side of him. In which Alec responds with understanding. “There’s nothing ugly about you.” Alec accepts him for exactly how he is. He doesn’t have any kind of romaticization about Magnus. He intends to find out about the darker parts of Magnus. He doesn’t just want to be with the light parts. It was a really great moment for Malec.
Now, I am a little torn on how I feel about the show changing Magnus’ past with his mother and stepfather. But after going back and forth on it, I don’t think my problem is that I liked the story in the book better as much as that I felt the show could’ve spent a little more time on this flashback. We didn’t get to see a whole lot of Magnus’s stepfather and we certainly didn’t get to see what exactly the man was saying to Magnus. The tone wasn’t really working. In this instance, tone is everything and I don’t think the show got the tone right. The flashback could’ve been really great but the show did the bare minimum and in doing so, messed up the tone a little. Now, I have heard people say that they think the scene in the books is a little overdramatic in the sense that Magnus’ mother hangs herself out of shame in finding out she had laid with a demon and the stepfather trying to drown Magnus. I disagree on that assessment. Magnus was born in a time where if you were different, you were seen as evil. Anything that was different was seen as the devil’s work. So it would make sense that Magnus’ mother killing herself over finding out what her son was and his stepfather trying to drown him makes sense in context. I am a little sad the show didn’t go with this story but I understand the story the show is trying to tell. It works in its own way. The story in the books wouldn’t have worked as well with the theme they were trying to implement here. Like I said, it works, I just wish we had gotten a little more in the development of this flashback.
I also saw a few posts where a blogger was talking about how rigid Alec looks in the Malec scenes. That he doesn’t really look comfortable. He very much had a military like stance when dealing with Magnus in this episode. I think this was more of an acting decision. For me, Alec is feeling insecure about their relationship. Magnus is refusing to open up and it’s making Alec a little uncomfortable. So I was fine with the rigidity he might’ve been having these past couple of episodes. It makes sense based on what Alec is feeling.
I would probably give this episode a B. I definitely felt it was better than the previous ones. As always, there are still things the show can improve on. For one, executing their ideas better. As I’ve said many times, the writers have a lot of good ideas, the execution is what makes them fall a little weird sometimes. I also can’t help but feel like the writers may be writing with their dominant hand being tied behind their back. I mentioned it earlier in this review but I’ve been starting to realize that the writing in this show has been very “safe.” The show scaled back on the incest plot because it was controversial. We’re never really sure what the show is trying to do with Malec as a couple because the show doesn’t feel comfortable with how much they can get away with in that relationship. They went for the obvious plot point of Simon being framed for a murder instead of going dark and having Simon kill someone while in his drugged state. They’re certainly scaling back on seeing us watch Izzy with her recovery probably because that’s controversial as well. In the 2A finale, they had all of the main downworlders in one spot but yet none of them were harmed by what happened in the finale. They all conveniently were able to escape from the massacre. They did kill Jocelyn but Jocelyn was also a character a majority of the fanbase didn’t care about so her death was an “eh, whatever” thing. One of these days, I would really like to see the show just go for it. They’re trying to be dark and racy but at the same time they’re still afraid to. They don’t know how much they can get away with and I look forward to the day when they throw caution to the wind and just go all out. We don’t live in a pretty world and the shadow world certainly is not a pretty world to live in. It is dangerous, these people lead dangerous lives and it would be nice to see just how cruel and unforgiving this world can get.
That’s about all I have for you guys. Again, sorry I’m late. But better late than never. I’d love to hear your thoughts on the show. Did you love it? Did you hate it? Do you agree or disagree? As always, be respectful of mine and everyone else’s opinions.
#shadowhunters#shadowhunters review#shadowhunters discussion#shadowhunters 2x15#shadowhunters 2x15 review#shadowhunters 2x15 discussion#shadowhunters season 2 episode 15 review#shadowhunters season 2 episode 15 discussion#shadowhunters a problem of memory#shadowhunters a problem of memory review#shadowhunters a problem of memory discussion#malec#climon
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Ok so a conversation @littlx-songbxrd and I were having made me remember something I was ranting about to a friend of mine once.
Brace yourselves this is going to be long. I'm sorry.
The sexism, homophobia and racism of the shadoworld straight up doesn't make sense and here's why. So if we start chronologically with the infernal devices. There is sexism towards Charlotte right? People don't want her running the institute and they don't want her becoming the consul because she is a woman. But the Clave has no problem letting women train and fight. This doesn't really make sense in my opinion.
Now you could argue that it's because they believe woman can be string capable fighters just not rational thinkers. Which is weird because in my experience you don't meet a lot of people who are "partially sexist" in that way. Like if a man believes a woman can't do high profile, high paying jobs then they usually also don't want them in the military. Anyways moving on, there aren't any mentions of homophobia in TID, mostly because they're arent any queer characters except Magnus and Woolsey.
But something interesting to point out is that none of the characters who know about Magnus and Woolsey ever comment on it really. And following this point, none of the mains display any signs of misogyny either really. (Except for what Will says to Tessa at the end of CA but that was because of the "curse.") You could argue that this is because they're the protagonists so they are supposed to be better then that. But accidental microaggressions are pretty common especially during that time period. More on that later.
Moving onto racism, this is the interesting part. Jem says to Tessa that shadowhunters believe that you are a shadowhunter first and your nationality or eace second. Actually Jem doesnt mention race but he says this while talking about being half Chinese so it's kinda relevant. Shadowhunters rarely tall about race throughout the books in general except for a few instances. When Jessamine criticizes Jem to Tessa, she calls him a foreigner and says some other racist shit that I can't really remember. Something about the yin fin and calling him lazy. That directly contradicts Jem's statement about them all being shadowhunters first. Also Will and Jem actually constantly talk about being Welsh and Chinese in the books so that statement is kinda bogus in general.
And if CC didn't want her mains being sexist or homophobic to show them as good people then why was it ok for both Jesse and Gabriel to say questionable shit about Jem? Anyways moving on to TLH. Sexism is still running rampid with their cultural customs and people being shitty about Charlotte being consul. Bots have to ask the girls to dance, girls cannot have sex before marriage or else they will be ruined or whatever you know the drill. But again, they let the girls fight. Cordelia is allowed to carry around a giant ass sword but she can't get some????
IT DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE CASSANDRA!!!!!
Sorry I'm losing it. Anyways. Regarding racism. Alastair and Cordelia have experienced micro aggressions from the mains (Matthew and Anna) but it's never addressed. I'm pretty sure if memory serves, the inquisitor makes a nasty comment under his breath about persians when the Carstairs family sans Elias arrive. And then we have the whitewashing of Ariadne/Kamala by her parents.
But none of this stuff ever gets brought up really. Exceot for Kamala talking about her past and who she was before and sharing her original name, but she still doesn't talk about how it effects her potential coming out. Alastair doesnt mention race when he talks about the bullying he went through at the academy and none of the white characters ever stop to think about how Kamala and Alastsir's races play a part in their crappy situations.
There's probably more I could discuss with this but I'm moving on to homophobia. It's a thing in terms of the heteronormativity and people's judgement of Anna but it's not illegal like in mundane societies at this time. But all of the mains are totally cool with it which brings me to, I'm sorry but fucking bullshit! There is no way every single adult would be totally fine with it in this time period. Like I'm not saying outright homophobia but maybe some questionable comments you know? (CC is perpetuating this idea that good people never commit microaggressions which is untrue and harmful.)
I don't think there's any mention of whether or not gay marriage is allowed in the shadowhunter world at this point. Because the issues surrounding Magnus and Alec getting married were about Magnus being a warlock right? Because Helen and Aline got married before them in TFTSA because she was only half fae. So that brings me to when was gay marriage legalized in the shadow world?????
Is there any mention of this because I don't think there is? Anyways moving onto TMI. This is where everything goes to absolute shit in terms of world building with the standards for these things. Misogyny isn't really a problem in tmi anymore from what I remember. Nobody has issues with Jia as consul (from what I remember,) and that's that. But homophobia is still rambid throughout shadowhunter society so much so that Alec is terrified to come out because he believes that he can't be gay and be a shadowhunter in peoples eyes. Also there is pressure to "carry on the family name" which doesn't make sense because if the sexism has died out then women can have babies with whoever and not even be married and carry on their family line. And not everyone needs to have children, ergo there is less pressure on the sons to carry on the family name or whatever. This also doesn't make sense because homophobia literally cannot exist without sexism!!!!
This is because of colonial gender roles being forced on society. And men being with men and women being with woman totally smashes the whole gender roles, "woman do this and men do that" idea. There's more that I could say on that but this is already so freaking long so please just look it up. And speaking of gender roles it's literally mentioned that Maryse didn't teach Izzy to cook because she didn't want her to be forced into a housewife role like she was (although there's no evidence to suggest she was?) But then Maryse is lowkey homophobic?
It doesn't make sense Cassandra!!!!!
CC doesn't get that you literally don't have homophobia or transphobia without sexism. Indigenous societies pre-colonization didn't care about any of that stuff. Literally two spirit people were revered and respected and no one gave a fuck about gender until my ancestors literally came along and ruined everything. (I'm so sorry.)
But anyways there's no mentions of racism amongst the shadowhunters in tmi. Just Maia talking about her experiences with mundane society as a black girl. When Clary confronts Valentine and basically calls him a n*zi, he laughs at her and basically says that shadowhunters don't see race the way mundanes do which yikes @ CC. Granted this was 2007. This kind of sounds like what Jem said in TID. Only it clearly wasnt true.
Anyways I'm just super confused at this point. In TDA there was basically nothing in terms of all the isms and phobias. (Oh we arent even discussing ableism because my fucking head will explode!) But we do discuss transphobia a bit with Diana. But again it doesn't make fucking sense because transphobia exists because of sexism and clear gender roles (and homophobia.)
Society is still shown to be pretty heteronormative though which I guess makes sense but the Blackthorns have multiple queers in their family! You would think that they would be less so. When Livvy mentions all the reasons that Annabel could have a forbidden love she doesnt even think to mention that it could be a lesbian relationship. When Mark finds out that Jaime was in Dru's room he freaks out but I guarentee you, he wouldn't have if Jaime was a girl. I mean you could argue that it's an age thing and not a gender thing but idk. That scene always bothered the fuck out of me. Because Mark is literally half fae like why is he caught up on bullshit "boys and girls can't just be friends" hetero bullshit.
In QOAAD we see Dane Larksoear being sexist so randomly for no reason. Like it's so strange because CC literally created a caricature of a sexist villian with him. And it makes no sense because no one else seems to feel the way he does. Like Zara is basically the leader of the cohort right? And nobody gives a fuck. It makes no damn sense Cassandra!
And finally, why is the faerie world sexist with gender roles WHEN EVERYONE IS LITERALLY BISEXUAL AND THEY'RE FAERIES CASSANDRA!!!???? THEY'RE LITERALLY FAERIES WHY IS THERE A CONCEPT OF GENDER AT ALL CASSANDRA????!!!!
Ok lol now I'm done. Sorry this is so long. But yeah I'm so confused.
Tldr: CC's world building in regards to sexism, homophobia, racism and transphobia is very inconsistent and contradictory and it makes no damn sense.
#tsc#tda#the dark artifices#tlh#twp#the wicked powers#the last hours#tmi#tid#tw mentions of transphobia#tw mentions of racism#tw mentions of homophobia#tw mentions of sexism#anti cc#long post
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Okay so I’ve seen a lot of people go after cc today and I’ve seen an overwhelming amount of people defend her, so let’s talk a little about one of the points brought up again and again that never seems to be phrased properly or people just can’t seem to grasp.
Islamophobia in YA. Specifically in tsc but this post is about more than just one woman’s writing.
What is Islamophobia? It’s the fear, hatred of, or prejudice against the Islamic religion or Muslims generally.
How can a book be classified as prejudiced? When it does not contain even a mention of a single Muslim character. I’m not saying lack of Muslim mcs, I’m saying zero Muslims in an entire book. An entire series. A whole collection.
You can’t tell me you don’t know a single Muslim person, or that you’ve never passed a Hijabi on the street or walked by a Mosque, because if you do you’re lying.
Just the same way we expect authors to diversify their cast of characters with Black rep, Asian rep, POC rep, LGBTQ rep, this is just as important.
The biggest problem? Misrepresentation. It’s when an author chooses to include a Muslim character and then turns Islam on it’s head and dulls down this character by things like: a Muslim character that is ‘not that close to their religion’ (see: An Abundance of Katherines by John Green) or a Muslim girl that doesn’t believe in her hijab/takes it off sometime during the series/claims she only wears it so her hair doesn’t get dirty while baking (see: Beneath the Sugar Sky by Seanan McGuire) that’s not how Islam works. That is not how Muslims act or treat their religion.
Islam, to a Muslim, is more than just a piece of cloth or a weekly trip to the Mosque. To a Muslim, their religion is their identity. It’s part of who they are. It’s how they dress, how they eat, and what they do with their time.
You cannot disclude these aspects of a Muslim and then claim you have represented them.
Now I know some people were upset about cc being called out as Islamophobic and not having enough Islamic rep, so I’ll get into that as well.
There are no Muslim characters in tsc. Not a single one. And as we discussed this makes the series Islamophobic. When asked about this, Cassandra Clare said that Shadowhunters do not have a religion because they worship Raziel.
This is what I like to call: a really shitty excuse.
Will proposed to Tessa on Christmas. Christmas is an annual festival commemorating the birth of Jesus Christ. If Shadowhunters did in fact have their own religion, then why don’t they have their own holidays? Why, when they supposedly have no relationship with mundanes and hardly understand what goes on in the mundane world, would they celebrate Christmas?
Furthermore, Simon Lewis is Jewish. He used to be a Mundane, but when he became a Shadowhunter, he was not asked to leave his Religion. So is he both? Did he quit being Jewish? If being a Shadowhunter is indeed a religion, it is a very underdeveloped one.
And then we have Sona. Sona who is ‘partly Muslim’. I don’t think you understand how wrong that is from start to finish. There is no ‘partly Muslim’. It’s take it or leave it, you cannot take the aspects of this religion that you like and call yourself partly Muslim. How did cc mess up with this one?
First: Sona is married to Elias Carstairs, who is not Muslim. He is a white British man of no known religion or indeed his religion is just being a Shadowhunter. He is in alcoholic. He has many other issues but again he is not a Muslim. In Islam, marriage between a Muslim woman and a Non-Muslim man is not allowed.
I could go on, about how there isn’t a single memory of Cordelia’s where her mother is praying, or making duaa. That she never sat down wither her daughter to discuss her beliefs. That despite Sona being Cordelia’s only role model with the absence of her father, she has carried with her none of the Islamic beliefs, morals, or even just habits. But I won’t.
This is not Islamic representation.
I would appreciate it if people who were not Muslims and have never faced discrimination based solely on their religion, did not interact with this post.
Reblog. Don’t defend authors who have done Muslims dirty. Educate Yourself.
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Ok imma be honest, this chapter moved me to tears and not the sad sobbing but the more inspiring kind. This chapter means the world.
She had told them her dreams were about ducks – since there were the only equally horrible thing she could think of.
Uncle Magnus had given her an odd look then, as if he knew she was bullshitting them. But he hadn’t said anything.
DUCKS AREN'T THAT BAD! HAVE Y'ALL EVER BEEN CHASED BY A GOAT?? I WAS CONVINCED I WAS GONNA DIE
Lexi would be royally pissed if this turned out to be some stupid pointless dream.
YUP
Even though she was only 7 minutes older than Lexi, Selena always acted like she was 7 years older.
That's so cute though
People looked at her pastel-coloured aesthetic immediately assumed she was the soft and sweet Fairchild twin. People saw Selena in her red leather jacket and thigh high boots and assumed she was in the infamous troublesome Herondale twin.
SMH THE DAMN STEREOTYPES
Why Selena hadn’t killed her in her sleep yet, Lexi doesn’t know.
BYE THAT'S EVERY SIBLING RELATIONSHIP EVER
The meals at the Academy were to die for – quite literally. Last week two students from the warlock fraction had almost killed each other over a blueberry muffin.
Oh how times change...they will never know the dreaded soup
NO ANJALI HAS BEEN GONE FOR OVER A YEAR???
IS JAIME OK?? PLEASE BE OK! HE CAN LIVE WITH TREATMENT SO I REALLY HOPE HE'S OK
Selena’s was Idris of course. She was kind of obsessed with it.
Max loved the shadow markets. Lexi thought they were very cool too.
Rafael loved his father’s office – which was weird. There was nothing to do in that room other than ponder about shadow world problems. Besides, the place still weirdly smelled like the tangerine perfume Anjali wore, even though the girl had left New York almost a year ago.
David loved the New York Institute – especially the library.
Gigi of course loved the dining halls.
Dining halls, kitchens, food trucks, vending machines - if a place had food with it, Gigi loved it.
It's so amazing how they all have their favorite places...(same David same)
“You’re supposed to pour the syrup on the pancakes not into your mouth,” Lexi chuckled as she sat down next to her.
“It ends up in my mouth anyway,” Gigi shrugged.
True enough.
AWW ROMAN MAKING GIGI PLAYLISTS!!
Someone make me a playlist.
“His parents fell in love in Rome when they were in Rome,” Gigi pointed out even though Lexi already knew. “I think it’s actually romantic.”
I had forgotten that-
Roman was nice. But not nice enough for Georgia. Lexi didn’t think there was anyone good enough for her parabatai – who was the most perfect person in the world.
Me @ anyone who tries to make a move at my best friend.
AWW GEORGIA LIKES HIM TOO!!
When's the wedding?
(you're telling me you didn't believe you were gonna marry your childhood crush? Liar)
“I like being his friend,” Georgia said. “I like spending time with him and all of that. But I don’t know if I like him…in that way. I feel like I need more time.”
Demiromantic??? YES GIVE US THE REP
Lexi sometimes thought life would be so much simpler if the world was full of women and everyone was a lesbian.
Ikr?? Life would be so much easier.
Lexi says Roman is too-nice-sus
Well well well
The kind of love that cheated death.
The kind of love that sustained memory spells put by princes of hell.
The kind of love that changed the world.
Trust me all of our standards are very high
Lexi successfully survived the class without falling asleep.
Me during English.
Ok who's the blond?
Lexi I thought we weren't gonna fall this soon-
Oh the girl's straight...sigh we've all been there.
which meant they had to hold hands. Kinda.
Lexi was a little scared of that.
Me.
Goddamnit, Alexandra. Get your gay together!
THAT'S SO RELATABLE LIKE?? YES
OH MY GOD IT'S EMMA AND JULIAN'S DAUGHTER GEIDIDHDOHDJSKSJSKGXJDHSODHKDGDDGDJHDJDGDJDGJDHD
Lexi knew Olivia liked boys. She hadn’t dated anyone officially of course. All the boys were kind of terrified of her father.
She could be bi or pan or omni. WE GOTTA HAVE HOPE
vegetable loaf... David I'm so sorry you had to go through this.
Lexi then decided not to do any of her homework over the weekend because she was not coming back to the academy. She was not going to survive the sleepover and whatever else Olivia had in mind.
Bestie...why is this me when I make eye contact with my crush.
“Good stuff?” Max snorted. “Rafe literally ran away from home cause shit got too intense.”
“I didn’t run away!” Rafael rolled his eyes. “Stop telling people that!”
“But you have rumours and shadowhunters getting thrown into silent city and cohort drama and all that exciting stuff!” Liv pointed out.
I-
Liv-
True though.
“Wasn’t there a serial killer when your parents were young?” David asked.
“And didn’t your uncle do necromancy?” Max said biting into a chicken wing.
True and true
“Sorry, Chouchou!” Lexi winced. “I, uh, sensed a mosquitoe on your leg.”
“Girl, your angel powers are weird as fuck,” Max laughed.
MAX LANGUAGE
“I don’t know,” the girl shrugged and threw her a wink. “I wouldn’t put anything past Lexi.”
Lexi looked at Gigi. She was one more compliment away from screaming.
But Gigi of course knew her struggle and therefore quickly stuffed a bread roll into Lexi’s mouth.
I need someone to stuff bread into my mouth when things get like this
There were rumours about David – and how Daddy had an affair. Lexi was yet to find those asshats and shove a witch light down their throats.
When you find them lemme know too.
“Or maybe it’s because you don’t need rumours be interesting,” David pointed out.
Max turned around, looking surprised at that. His cheeks turned purple. Lexi didn’t know why he was surprised. David only ever spoke fondly of Max.
JUST GET TOGETHER ALREADY OH MY GOD
“Oh. Oh! I did hear something a long time ago!” Gigi said suddenly. “Olly, is it true you were conceived at the beach?”
“Georgia, you can’t just ask people where they were conceived!” David sounded horrified.
That is very much possible.
“I heard you were conceived in hell?”
“Oh my god,” Selena looked horrified. “That’s not true! It must have been about Max!”
“Y’all I am adopted!” Max was shaking with laughter and then stopped. “Although our dads could have definitely had sex in hell. I wouldn’t put it past them.”
Oh yes. Both clace and malec.
Then they had of course continued to discuss that cursed topic until Rafael had threatened to tell the Consul about it.
LMAO
Lexi turned around and saw Liv waiting for her. Nope. She wasn’t going to talk a walk – a fucking stroll! – with Olivia all on her own.
“You are coming back to the institute with me or I will un-parabatai you.”
You know there being an un-parabatai ceremony would solve a lot of shit
What if their hands accidentally grazed or something? That shit was lethal.
RIGHT????
She is just trying to be nice. That’s what friends do. They are nice. And they give each other pretty dresses and say they would like to see them in it.
Honey that's gay.
EVERYONE ASKING HER OUT IM DEAD
Selena: Ugh boys
Selena: When I win back Idris, we are leaving all the men behind.
Lexi: Except Magnus? Lol.
Selena: Obviously.
Is that even a question Lexi? Duh.
ALEC LIGHTWOOD THOUGHT SHE WAS STRAIGHT? THE SHAME!
OH MY GOD IM CACKLING
Not everyone can kiss their partner in the Accords Hall. Some people didn’t have access to the Accords Hall.
And most important, some people didn’t have partners!
We're getting a lexi and Alec talk someone hold me
“I’m going to tell you something,” Uncle Alec said. “It might sound simple. It might sound ridiculous. But it’s the truth. So, you must believe me. Can you do that?”
Lexi gave him a small nod.
“It doesn’t matter what other people think,” Uncle Alec said. “Not when it comes to your future. Not when it comes to your identity. They don’t get to have a say in who you are and why you are the way you are.”
Lexi bit her lip.
“Alexandra, people will always tell what to do. But you shouldn’t let them. Never let anyone tell you what to do with your heart or your body. Neither belongs them. It only belongs to you.”
THIS RIGHT HERE MADE ME START CRYING BECAUSE DAMN YES!
“Yep,” she groaned and then hesitated for a moment. “Uncle Alec…Can I ask you something stupid?”
“Can I say no?”
“No.”
“Then go ahead.”
I love her so much
“I feel…I feel it’s something we have to bear, Alexandra. The fear of rejection. It’s something we have to accept as an inevitable part of our lives. Because no matter how much love we have around us, we will always be afraid of people not loving us – simply because of who we are.”
Yeah...
“Besides, they named you after me,” he pointed out. “I don’t know what else they expected.”
EXACTLY! Did they really expect a straight child after naming them after Alec?
“I do like shouting,” Lexi wondered out loud. “That’s good advice.”
“I didn’t mean it literally!” Uncle Alec looked alarmed.
“No, it makes total sense!” Lexi grinned. “Some of these people can be tone deaf. Gotta shout it out. Loud and clear. Awesome advice! Thanks, Uncle Alec!”
DO IT
“Hey, Lexi. I was wonderin-”
“MOVE, I’M GAY!” she yelled as she shoved him aside and kept on running.
ABSOLUTELY ICONIC
“I prefer she/her,” Lexi answered. "But sometimes I prefer she/they. But you can use she/her because some of y'all already shit at grammar."
That's exactly what I tell people when they ask for my pronouns. Istg people are shit at grammar.
alright girl im here to give you a lecture on how someone's dressing doesn't describe their sexuality
OH MY MY GOD THERE WAS A GENDER AND SEXUALITY CLASS IN THE ACADEMY ARE THEY RECRUITING???
One of the boys who had complimented cleared his throat. “So, uh, you don’t like boys?”
“That’s literally what I said,” Lexi rolled her eyes. “I’m gay. I’m very gay. I’m gayer than the Consul. Okay fine, that’s not true. No one gayer than the Consul. But I’m still pretty gay.”
Does the boy have hearing problems?
ALSO YES NO ONE'S GAYER THAN THE CONSUL
“Sexual orientation and gender expression are two different things,” she explained now, remember what Uncle Magnus had taught them. “Sexual orientation refers to who I am sexually and romantically attracted to. Gender expression is how I want to express my gender identity. Those two are not connected. Just because a woman wears feminine clothes it doesn’t mean she is straight. Just because a man embraces femininity, it doesn’t make him gay either. Does that make sense?”
“Ohhh,” the girl nodded. “Yes, it does. Thank you!”
“What I wear does not reflect who I like. It reflects who I am and what I like to wear,” Lexi explained. “And regardless of my sexuality, I like pretty things.”
Exactly.
“This doesn’t change anything. I hope you know that,” he told her. “I mean I have to change the pronouns in my shovel talk. But that’s not a big deal.”
Awwww
Also – my good friend Raziel told me that homophobia is a sin.”
“You mean homosexuality is a sin?” an older man asked.
“No, homophobia is a sin,” Lexi repeated. “That’s what Raziel said.”
“But that’s not-”
Someone cleared their throat. When he spoke, it was in the Consul Voice.
“Are you saying know better than Raziel?” the Consul asked.
Listen to Raziel you dumb shit
“Sure. Let me just call the Lesbian Alliance,” Lexi rolled her eyes.
Ugh I wish
OH NO NO NO NOT THE FAKE DATING. JUST CONFESS AND DATE FOR REAL
“Alexandra, I have a fucking undercut and I have pink highlights and I cuff my jeans and I literally walk around with a sword and I can quote Lady Gaga to perfection! Why would you ever think I was straight??”
Lexi your gaydar is broken bestie.
Don't do this omg this is gonna be a mess
Gigi: THIS IS A BAD IDEA. ABORT! ABORT!
Lexi: Relaaaax. It’s going to be fine!
Gigi: I’ve read enough fanfiction to know the fake dating trope never ends well!
Lexi: I’ve told you to include the ‘angst with happy ending’ tag!
LMAO
Also Gigi which fanfiction do you read?
Jace omg...
That's so him though.
“How about my peeps? It sounds very hip.”
“It does not,” Lexi replied. “Please don’t refer to us as your peeps under any circumstance."
IM SCREAMING ASHSKHSIDBSHSHDH
Her father chuckled at that. “Sweetheart, you’re a Herondale. Being problematic is what we do.”
EXACTLY
Daddy opened the notebook again. “I need names.”
Grabs flamethrower names
“Besides, the Lightwoods and Blackthorns have been hogging the gay genes for too long. Now it’s our turn. I say you gay it up.”
“Gay it up?” Lexi laughed.
“Yeah,” he grinned. “Go for the highest possible level of gay.”
DO IT
He blinked for a second and then it hit him. “OH MY GOD YES! DOES EMMA KNOW??”
Lexi laughed. Yeah, he can never find out it was a fake dating situation.
Hopefully he won't have to because it won't be fake :D
“To love is a privilege and to be loved is a blessing.”
THE GROWTH OH MY GOD
This chapter literally means so much to me. I don't even know what to say. I hope I too can one day have the courage to shout it in front of everyone and not be scared. See ya on Tuesday!
It means so much to me that this chapter meant a lot to you. I hope you find all the courage, strength and support you need. You are amazing.
And here. I made you a playlist.
You can find it here on YouTube. I hope you like it :)
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Cassandra Jean’s illustration for this month’s Chain of Gold flash fiction — this one’s about Will and Gideon, and features James, Thomas and Jesse as little kids. It’s a two-parter, so here’s part one!
LONDON, 1889
Will Herondale was full of Christmas spirit, and Gideon Lightwood found it very annoying.
It wasn’t just Will, actually; he and his wife Tessa had both been raised in mundane circumstances until they were nearly adults, and so their memories of Christmas were of fond family memories and childhood delights. They came alive with it when the city of London did, as it did every year.
Gideon’s memories of Christmas were mostly about overcrowded streets, overrich food, and over-inebriated mundane carolers who needed to be saved from London’s more dangerous elements as they caroused all night, believing all trouble and wickedness was gone from the world right up until they were eaten by Kapre demons disguised as Christmas trees. Just for example.
Born and raised a Shadowhunter, Gideon, of course, did not celebrate Christmas, and had always borne London’s obsession with the holiday with bemused indifference. He had resided in Idris for most of his adult life, where the winter had a kind of Alpine profundity, and there was nary a Christmas wreath or cracker to be found. Winter in Idris felt more solemn than Christmas, so much older than Christmas. It was a strange facet of Idris: where most Shadowhunters ended up celebrating the holidays of their local mundanes, at least the ones that spilled out into street decorations and public festivals, Idris had no holidays at all. Gideon never wondered about this; it seemed obvious to him that Shadowhunters didn’t take days off. It was the blessing and the curse of being one, after all. You were a Shadowhunter all the time.
No wonder some couldn’t bear it, and left for a mundane life. Like Will Herondale’s father Edmund, in fact.
Perhaps that was why Will’s Christmas spirit annoyed him so. He’d come to like Will Herondale, and consider him a good friend. He hoped that when their children were older they too would become friends, if Thomas was all right by then. And he knew Will deliberately presented himself as silly and rather daft, but that he was a sharp and observant Institute head, and a more-than-capable fighter of demons.
But when Will insisted on taking them all to see the window displays at Selfridge’s, he could not help but worry that perhaps Will had a fundamentally unserious mind after all.
“Oxford Street? Days before Christmas? Are you mad?”
“It will be a lark!” Will said, with the slight lilt into his Welsh accent that meant he was a little too excited for his own good. “I’ll take James, you take Thomas, we’ll have a stroll. Have a drink at the Devil on the way back, what?” He clapped Gideon on the back.
It had been a long time since Gideon was last in England. As one of the Consul’s most trusted advisors, Gideon not only lived in Idris but rarely found opportunity to leave. He also remained so that his son Thomas could breathe the healthy air of Brocelind Forest, and not the air of this filthy, foggy city.
This filthy, foggy city, his father’s voice echoed in his mind, and Gideon was too weary to silence his father’s voice as he usually did whenever Benedict crept in. More than ten years dead, yet he had not shut up.
His brother Gabriel lived in Idris, too, and for less obvious reasons. Perhaps it was not only the bad air; perhaps they both were happier with a good distance between them and Benedict Lightwood’s house. And the knowledge that its current resident would barely speak with either of them.
But now Gideon had come to London, with Thomas, just the two of them, leaving Sophie and the girls behind. He needed advice about Thomas, people with whom he could discuss the problem discreetly. He needed to talk to Will and Tessa Herondale, and he needed to talk to a very specific Silent Brother who was often found in their vicinity.
Just now he was wondering if that had been a good idea. “A good bracing walk” was exactly the kind of English nonsense he’d half-expected Will to suggest for Thomas, but “a good bracing walk down the most crowded shopping street in London three days before Christmas” was a level of nonsense he had not been prepared for. “I can’t take Thomas through that crowd,” he said to Will. “He’ll get knocked around.”
“He isn’t going to get knocked around,” said Will scornfully. “He’ll be fine.”
“Besides,” said Gideon, “we’ll get looks. Mundane fathers don’t usually walk their babies in prams, you know.”
“I shall carry my son upon my shoulders,” said Will, “and you carry yours on yours, and Angel protect anyone who complains about it. Fresh London air would do all of us some good. And the windows are meant to be a spectacle, this year.”
“Fresh London air,” said Gideon dryly, “is thick as molasses and the color of pea soup.” But he acquiesced.
He had left Thomas in the nursery, where Tessa kept a watch over him and James. A full year older than James, Thomas wasn’t always good at understanding what James could and couldn’t do or understand. Tessa had been concerned that James would end up hurt. Gideon, though, was more concerned about Thomas, who was still smaller than James, despite the difference in their ages. He was paler than James, too, and less sturdy. He had only recently recovered from the latest of his terrible fevers, which had brought a Silent Brother, unfamiliar to them, to their house in Alicante to examine him. After a time the Silent Brother declared that Thomas would recover, and left without any further conversation.
But Gideon wanted answers. As he picked up Thomas now, he couldn’t help but think about how the boy was hardly any weight at all. He was the smallest of all “the boys,” as Gideon thought of them – of James, and his brother’s son Christopher, and Charlotte’s son Matthew. He had been born early, and small. They had been terrified the first time he caught fever, convinced it was the end.
Thomas hadn’t died, but he hadn’t fully recovered either. He remained delicate, weak of constitution, quick to illness. Sophie had fought harder than anyone to drink from the Mortal Cup and become a Shadowhunter, but now she was forced to fight a far worse battle against death by their son’s bedside. Over and over again.
Sighing, he took his son to fetch their coats for their bracing Christmas walk.
#
As expected, Oxford Street was a madhouse of pedestrian shoppers, carriages, gawkers, and menacing groups of roaming carolers. Gideon would just as soon have glamoured them all invisible from mundane eyes (although one of the groups of carolers were obviously werewolves, who had exchanged Acknowledging Looks with Gideon), but Will of course wished to bask in the experience.
James also seemed mostly intrigued by the noise and lights, giggling and yelping at the merry scene around them. A London boy from birth, thought Gideon, and then thought, well, but I was a London boy from birth, and this is too much commotion for my liking. For his own part, Thomas was quiet, watching with wide eyes, clutching onto his father’s shoulders. Gideon wasn’t sure how weakened Thomas still was from the last fever and how much he was overwhelmed by the crowds. In some ways, when he wasn’t sick, Thomas could be guilt-inducingly easy to care of; he rarely made a fuss, just looked out into the world with those large hazel eyes, as if aware of his own helplessness and hoping not to be noticed.
Will waited until after they had already joined the crowds at the windows of Selfridge’s and Will had made a number of nonsensical exclamations of delight of the “By Jove!” variety. He had held James right up to the glass to examine the scenes in detail, which seemed to revolve around some blond children ice skating on a river. Gideon had pointed things out to Thomas, who had smiled.
Only once they had stopped to purchase some hot cider from a man hawking it down a side street did Will say, “I heard about Tatiana’s son Jesse. Dreadful business. Have you spoken to her?”
Gideon shook his head. “I haven’t spoken to Tatiana in nearly ten years, or been back to the house.”
Will made a sympathetic noise.
“I don’t think it’s a coincidence,” said Gideon.
“What?” Will said.
“A coincidence,” said Gideon. “That both her and I have children who are—sickly.”
“Gideon,” said Will reasonably, “forgive me for saying so, but that is a load of codswallop.” Gideon blinked at him. “For one thing, you have your beautiful daughters, neither of whom were more than usually ill when they were babies. For another, all of what happened to your father was his own doing, and happened long after you were born, and neither you or Gabriel were sickly.”
Gideon shook his head. Will was so kind, so eager to spare him the consequences of his family’s sins. “You don’t know the extent of it,” he said. “The extent of Benedict’s experiments with dark magic. They were ongoing, from as long as I can remember. The demon pox just sticks in the memory, because it is rather lurid.”
“And also we were there,” said Will, “when he turned into a giant worm.”
“Also that,” said Gideon grimly. “But two sickly sons, small and frail—I cannot say with certainty that it is a coincidence, that it has nothing to do with the depredations of my father. I cannot risk the possibility.” He looked at Will imploringly. “It took Jesse years to become ill,” he said, “and Thomas has been ill so much already.”
There was a profound silence. Quietly, Will said, “You sound as if you mean to do something.”
“I do,” said Gideon with a sigh. “I must look at my father’s papers, his records of what he called his “work”. They are at Chiswick, and I must go and ask Tatiana for them.”
“Will she see you?” said Will.
Gideon shook his head again. “I don’t know. I hoped her anger would cool, over time, and her resentment. I hoped the fact that the Clave gifted her with all my father’s wealth and possessions would help her find peace.”
“Well,” said Will, “if you go, you absolutely must leave Thomas with us.”
“You wouldn’t want him to meet his aunt?” Gideon said innocently.
Will looked at him seriously. “I wouldn’t want him, or any of my children, on the grounds of that house!”
Gideon was taken aback. “Why? What’s she done to it?”
Will said darkly, “It’s what she hasn’t done.”
#
Gideon could see Will’s point. Tatiana hadn’t done anything to the house. Nothing to change, or clean, or preserve it in any way. Rather than restoring it or redecorating it to her own tastes, Tatiana had simply allowed it to rot, blackening and collapsing in on itself, a ghastly monument to Benedict Lightwood’s ruination. The windows were clouded, as though fog were seething indoors; the maze, a black and twisted wreckage. When he opened the front gate, the hinges screamed like a tortured soul.
It did not bode well for the emotional state of its resident.
When Benedict Lightwood died in disgrace from the late stages of demon pox, and the full history of his infamy was revealed to the Clave, Gideon laid low. He didn’t want to answer questions, or hear false sympathy for the damage done to his family name. He shouldn’t have cared. He’d known the truth of his father already. Yet it stung his pride, when he shouldn’t have had any pride left in his besmirched name.
The houses and the fortune were taken away from Benedict’s children by order of the Clave. Gideon could still remember when he had found out that Tatiana had brought a complaint against him and against Gabriel for the “murder” of their father. The Clave had first confiscated their possessions, and finally laid out the situation: Tatiana Blackthorn had petitioned the Clave for Benedict’s fortune to be given to her, as well as the Lightwood’s ancestral house in Chiswick. She was a Blackthorn now, not the bearer of a tainted name. She made many accusations against her brothers in the process. The Clave said they understood that Gideon and Gabriel had had no choice but to slay the monster their father had become, yet if they were to speak of technical truth only, Tatiana might be considered correct. The Clave was inclined to give Tatiana the full Lightwood inheritance, in hopes of settling the matter.
“I will fight this,” Charlotte had told Gideon, her small hands tight upon his sleeve and her mouth set.
“Charlotte, don’t,” Gideon begged. “You have so many other battles to fight. Gabriel and I don’t need any of that tainted money. This doesn’t matter.”
The money hadn’t mattered, then.
Gabriel and Gideon discussed the matter, and decided not to contest her claims. Their sister was a widow. She could live in the former Lightwood manor at Chiswick in England, and at Blackthorn Manor in Idris, and welcome. Gideon hoped she and her son would be happy. As it was, Gideon’s memories of the house were, at best, ambivalent.
Now he waited at the front door, its paint mostly peeled off, with deep gouges here and there, as though some wild animal had tried to get in. Maybe Tatiana locked herself out at some point. After a time it swung open, but waiting behind it was not his sister but a ten year old boy, looking somber. He had the midnight black hair of the father he’d never met, but he was tall for his age, willow-thin, with green eyes.
Gideon blinked. “You must be Jesse.”
The boy narrowed his eyes. “Yes,” said the boy. “Jesse Blackthorn. Who are you?”
Jesse, his nephew, after all this time. Gideon had asked so many times to see Jesse when he was a child. He and Gabriel had tried to go to Tatiana when she had the child, but she turned them both away.
Gideon took a deep breath. “Well,” he said. “I’m your Uncle Gideon, as it happens. I am very glad to make your acquaintance at last.” He smiled. “I was always hoping for it.”
Jesse’s expression did not improve. “Mama says you are a very wicked man.”
“Your mother and I,” Gideon said with a sigh, “have had a very…complicated history. But family should know one another, and fellow Shadowhunters, as well.”
The boy continued to stare at Gideon, but his face softened a bit. “I have never met any other Shadowhunters,” he said. “Other than Mama.”
Gideon had thought about this moment many times, but now found himself struggling for words. “You are…you see…I wanted to tell you. We have heard that your mother doesn’t want you to take Marks. You should know…we are family first, always. And if you don’t wish to take Marks, the rest of your family will support you in that decision. With the—the other Shadowhunters.” He wasn’t sure if Jesse even knew the word Clave.
Jesse looked alarmed. “No! I will. I want to! I’m a Shadowhunter.”
“So is your mother,” murmured Gideon. He felt a slight twinge of possibility there. Tatiana could have disappeared like Edmund Herondale, abandoned Downworld entirely, lived as a mundane. Shadowhunters did, sometimes; though Edmund had done it for love, Tatiana might do it out of hatred. That she had not gave Gideon hope, although, he was sure, foolish hope.
He knelt down, to be closer to the boy. He hesitated, then reached out for Jesse’s shoulder. Jesse stepped back, casually avoiding the touch, and Gideon let it go. “You are one of us,” he said quietly.
“Jesse!” Tatiana’s voice came from the top of the entrance stairs. “Get away from that man!”
As if prodded with a needle, Jesse leapt away from Gideon’s reach and retreated without a further word into the shadowed recesses of the house.
Gideon stared in horror as his sister Tatiana drifted down the stairs. She wore a pink gown more than ten years old. It was stained with blood he well knew was more than ten years old as well. Her face was drawn and pinched, as though her scowl had been etched there, unchanged for years.
Oh, Tatiana. Gideon was flooded with a strange amalgamation of sympathy and revulsion. This is long past grief. This is madness.
His little sister’s green eyes rested on him, cold as if he were a stranger. Her smile was a knife.
“As you can see, Gideon,” she said. “I dress for company. You never know who might drop by.”
Her voice, too, was changed: rough and creaking with disuse.
“Have you come to apologize?” Tatiana went on. “You will not find exoneration, for the things you have done. Their blood is on your hands. My father. My husband. Your hands, and your brother’s hands.”
And how was that? Gideon wanted to ask her. He had not killed her husband. Their father had done that, transformed by disease into a dreadful demonic creature.
But Gideon felt the shame and the guilt, as well as the grief, as he knew she intended him to. He had been the first to cut ties with his father, and with his father’s legacy. Benedict had taught them all to stick together, no matter what the cost, and Gideon had walked away. His brother had stayed, until he saw proof of their father’s corruption he couldn’t deny.
His sister remained even now.
“I am sorry you blame us,” said Gideon. “Gabriel and I have only ever wished for your good. Have you—have you read our letters?”
“I never was fond of reading,” murmured Tatiana.
She inclined her head, and after a moment Gideon realized this was the closest she would get to inviting him in. He stepped across the threshold nervously and, when Tatiana did not immediately shout at him, he continued inside.
Tatiana led him to what had once been their father’s office, a sculpture in dust and rot. He averted his eyes from the torn wallpaper, catching a glimpse of writing on the wall that read WITHOUT PITY.
“Thank you for seeing me,” Gideon said as he took a seat across the desk from her. “How is Jesse?”
“He is very delicate,” said Tatiana. “Nephilim like yourself wish to put Marks on him, because they are intent on killing my boy as they have killed everyone else I love. You sit on the Council, do you not? Then you are his enemy. You may not see him.”
“I would not force Marks on the boy,” protested Gideon. “He’s my nephew. Tatiana, if he is that ill, perhaps he should see the Silent Brothers? One of them is a close friend, and could come to Jesse at our house. And Jesse could know his cousins.”
“Mind your own house, Gideon,” Tatiana snapped. “Nobody expects your son to live to Jesse’s age, do they?”
Gideon fell silent.
“I expect you want Jesse to marry one of your penniless daughters,” Tatiana went on.
Now Gideon was more confused than offended. “His first cousins? Tatiana, they are all very young children—”
“Father planned alliances for us, when we were children.” Tatiana shrugged. “How ashamed he would be of you. How is your grubby servant?”
Gideon would have struck any man who spoke of Sophie so. He felt the rage and violence he’d known as a child storm within him, but he’d desperately taught himself control. He exercised every bit of that control now. This was for Thomas.
“My wife Sophia is very well.”
His sister nodded, almost pleasantly, but the smile quickly became a grimace. “Enough pleasantries, then. You came to Chiswick for a reason, did you not? Out with it. I know what it is already. Your son is like to die, and you want money for filthy Downworlder remedies. You’re here as a beggar, cap in hand. So beg me.”
It was strange: Tatiana’s obvious, undeniable insanity made her insults and imprecations undeniably easier to bear. What was she even saying? What Downworlder remedies? How could remedies be filthy?
Had Benedict destroyed Tatiana as well? Or would she always have been like this? Their mother had killed herself because their father passed on a demon’s disease to her. Their father had died of the same sickness, in disgrace and horror. Will Herondale could dismiss it all as nonsense, but could it be a coincidence that Tatiana’s son, and his son, were both sickly? Or was it some weakness in their very blood, some punishment from the Angel who had seen what the Lightwoods truly were and passed his judgment upon them?
“I need no money,” Gideon said. “As you well know, the Silent Brothers are the best of doctors, and their services are always freely available to me. As they are to you,” he added with emphasis.
“What, then?” Tatiana said. Her head cocked slightly.
“Father’s papers,” Gideon said in a rush of expelled breath. “His journals. I think that the cause of my son’s illness might be found there.” He found he didn’t want to say Thomas’s name in front of his sister, as though she might decide to conjure with it.
“A man you betrayed?” Tatiana spat. “You have no right to them.”
Gideon bowed his head to his sister. He had been prepared for this. “I know,” he lied. “I agree. But I need them, for the sake of my child. You have Jesse. Whatever our differences, you must understand that we could both love our children, at least. You must help me, Tatiana. I beg you.”
He’d thought Tatiana would smile, or laugh cruelly, but she only gazed at him with the impassive, mindless stare of a dangerous snake.
“And what will you do for me?” she said. “If I do help?”
Gideon could guess. Get the Clave to leave her alone, to let her do as she wished with Jesse, for one thing. But in Tatiana’s madness, who knew what she would come up with.
“Anything,” he said hoarsely.
He lifted his head and looked at her, at his mother’s green eyes in his sister’s pitiless face. Tatiana, who would always break her toys rather than share them. There was something missing in her, as there had been in their father.
Now she did smile. “I have just the task in mind,” she said.
Gideon braced himself.
“On the other side of the road from this estate,” Tatiana said, “is a mundane merchant. This man has a dog, of an unusual size and vicious temperament. Quite often he lets the dog run free in the neighborhood, and of course he comes straight here to make mischief.”
There was a long pause. Gideon blinked. “The dog?”
“He is always making trouble on my property,” Tatiana snarled. “Digging up my garden. Killing the songbirds.”
Gideon was utterly positively sure that Tatiana did not keep a garden. He had seen the state of the grounds on his way in, left to crumble as a monument to disaster no less than the house itself.
There were definitely no songbirds.
“He’s made a disaster of the greenhouse,” she went on. “He knocks over fruit trees, he throws rocks through windows.”
“The dog,” Gideon said again, to clarify.
Tatiana fixed her piercing gaze on him. “Kill the dog,” she said. “Bring me the proof you have done this, and you will have your papers.”
There was a very long silence.
Gideon said, “What?”
#gideon lightwood#will herondale#tlh#the last hours#chain of gold#cassandra jean#flash fiction#cog2#november
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Chapter 4
Confrontations and Truths
It was almost 5:30, the dusk was setting in as Alec walked out of his office, mumbling something under his breath. He looked around to find a taxi which he got after 5 minutes, then got in and left for Catarina's house.
*At Catarina's apartment*
Catarina was pacing in her living room, glancing at the clock again and again. Her worries were deepening with each passing second when her doorbell rang. Sighing, she waved her hands and opened the door.
Alec walked inside and gave her an apologetic look. "Sorry, Cat! I'm.... 15 minutes late." He said while hugging her gently.
"That's not what I'm concerned about Alec, you asked me to meet you urgently and not tell Magnus about our meeting at all, what's going on!?"
He was about to answer when a soft voice echoed the whole house.
"Aallleeecccc!"
Madzie came running down the hall and hugged Alec's leg who was around Alec's waist height now. She was growing faster and learned a lot in all these years. Catarina had officially adopted her, and they formed a really great bond over the course of years.
A wide smile appeared on Alec's face as he bent down to her height and gave her a tight hug. "Hey, sweet pea!"
"Magnus didn't come?" She asked in a sad voice.
"No, sweet pea, I had some important work with your mom, that's why I came. We'll surely come soon to meet you, okay?"
"Okay!" she said enthusiastically, her sadness completely gone.
"Hey Mads! Go to your room sweetheart, we have some important work to discuss." Catarina said to her softly but a slight tone of worry was visible in her voice.
"Okay mommy, bye Alecc!"
"Bye, sweet pea!"
After she left, Catarina sighed, crossed her arms above her chest, and glared at Alec. "Alec! Are you going to tell me what's going on?"
"Cat! Calm down, can we please sit and talk?"
Catarina sighed yet again. They walked towards her mini balcony where there was a coffee table with two wooden chairs placed around it. She waved her hands and summoned a hot coffee for herself and hot chocolate with marshmallows for Alec.
"Thank you!" Alec said as he sat down on the chair.
Catarina was still looking at him firmly.
"So, to answer your question, Magnus is not fine."
"What!? Alec! What happened to him, has his powers-"
"Cat! Cat! Calm down! There's nothing wrong with him. He's completely fine, he's just not fine emotionally."
"Emotionally!?"
"Look, Cat, it's our anniversary in 6 days, I want to do something for him for which I'll be needing the help of a warlock, and I obviously can't take Magnus' help, so that's why I wanted to meet you."
Catarina let out a breath of relief, which she didn't know was holding. "Alec, I'm still confused, how is Magnus' mental health and your surprise plan related?"
Alec took a deep breath and composed himself before speaking. "You're aware of the biggest attack that happened in Alicante about a month ago, which almost resulted in war?"
"Yes, Alec, I obviously am, that's the reason I'm in Alicante. They needed the powerful warlocks from around the globe to fix the broken wards, you know it really well those are no ordinary wards. But, what about it?" a frown appeared on her forehead, not understanding where this was headed.
"Well, in that attack, I was in the field and Magnus was also called. It was not a small attack so they called everyone that can fight that battle. We both were on the field fighting side by side, but..." Alec cleared his throat, his eyes starting to flood with tears with those memories.
"Alec?" Catarina asked softly.
Alec closed his eyes and a teardrop fell on his cheek. "I... I almost died in that battle."
"What!?" Catarina's eyes went wide. "Oh my god! Alec... why nobody told me about this!? Why am I hearing about it now?"
"You were at the Spiral Labyrinth, Cat. We wouldn't be able to contact you even if we wanted. And, you know Magnus, he hates talking about things like these."
Catarina sighed and gave a slow nod.
"Anyways, I was in a coma for 10 days. My recovery was really slow, but I recovered. I knew Magnus was by my side the whole time, I was able to hear him, hear everything happening beside me, I heard him crying, begging me to wake up, to not leave him this soon, that... he won't be able to live without me, he cried on my arms, didn't sleep for a day!" He paused as tears kept running down his face.
Catarina gently squeezed his arms.
"When I recovered and went back home, he didn't allow me to go back to work for days. I had to convince him, remind him that I'm an inquisitor, I don't have that much fieldwork now, but... he never was able to get over it." He took a deep breath and continued.
"He told me he was fine, but I know he's not Cat! He still cries at night, thinking I'm asleep and not hearing him. whenever I've come home early, I've heard him crying, saying things like... like I'll die someday in a battle or I'll grow old one day and die and leave him forever. But I've always ignored it, knowing that I won't be able to comfort him no matter how hard I try to. And also, because he thinks he's hiding from me. If I confront him, he'll become defensive and more secretive, he'll push me away."
He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. Catarina reached out and gave his shoulder a light squeeze. When he opened his eyes, tears were shining brightly in them.
"I... I can't see him like that, Cat! He had a past full of pain, he had been in and out of relationships, had bad ones like Camille. You know all about it better than me, I know he's scared that I'll grow old one day and die. My mortality is scaring him, I love him and I'm worried about him."
"Oh my! Alec... I can't believe Magnus didn't say a word to me. But how can I help you with this?"
"I... Is... I... I... Is...."
"Alec!?" Catarina frowned, her mind going only in one direction with Alec's confrontation.
"I want to become immortal!" He announced.
At first, Catarina's eyes went wide, but then a light smile appeared on her face. "Look, Alec, I'm happy to see the love you have for Magnus, but becoming immortal-"
"It's not just for Magnus, Cat! I'm doing it for myself as well. I want to be with Magnus forever. I can't think of being apart from him even for a day, and, about watching my whole family dying in front of my eyes, with Magnus being by my side, I know I'll handle it!"
Catarina was so awestruck by his determination. 'Magnus is really lucky to have Alec, I'm so happy for you Magnus Bane!' she thought. "But there's one more problem, Alec, you have pure angel blood running in your veins, if you want to become immortal-"
"You think I came without homework, Cat!?" He took out a piece of paper from his pants pocket and kept it on the table. She took it and carefully opened it but then her eyes went wide.
"Wha... Alec, from where did you get this?"
"I was looking through the history of Shadowhunters and Immortals when I got this. The only thing I got to know this far is that," he pointed at the sketch on paper, "his name was Kasper Windermere, the first Shadowhunter to become immortal, half angel and half Shadowhunter, he became half-angel through a spell, but I'm not able to find the rest of it."
Catarina's eyes were wide. Noticing that, Alec took her hand in his catching her attention.
"Look, Cat, I want to become immortal, but Shadowhunting is my life, my career, it's what I've taught since childhood, I can't just give up on it. And I know I'll regret if I become immortal by using demon blood, you all know me. So that's the only option I have. Please, help me Cat!"
She couldn't help but give a wide smile at Alec.
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"You know, Magnus has been my best friend for centuries, I've seen him falling in and out of love, being with people, caring for them, and getting heartbroken but I've never seen anyone caring for Magnus the way you do. Magnus is really lucky to have you in his life. I'm really happy for both of you."
Alec's cheeks flushed red at this. "Thank you, Cat!"
"But for what you want, we need to search in every place possible. We can start with Book of White; Magnus gave it to me to keep it safe, I'll bring it."
"Okay, let's do it."
-----------------------------------------------------------------
* A Few hours later*
"There's only a small part of the spell mentioned in it, Alec." Catarina rubbed her temples as she turned the book towards Alec. They searched for hours but were only able to find a few details.
"Hmm... but that means it's possible right? We just need to find the rest of it." He was really happy with their findings.
"Alec, are you really sure? There's little mention of it, and... it's written there that it has consequences, that's why it's removed."
"What consequences?" He frowned.
"This spell is irreversible, so you can never turn back to mortal ever again and the only means that can kill you is.... is your own will, as an angel you'll only die when you desire to be."
"How is the other one a consequence?" He asked, confused.
"Alec, no one desires to die, and there's no mention whether Kasper Windermere is alive or dead."
"I don't see any problem with any of the above!"
Catarina sighed. "You are so determined, aren't you?"
"Cat, I can't see Magnus like this anymore. With our anniversary coming, I want to surprise him in the best way possible. I want our anniversary to be about him, his happiness, and I know he'll be happy, so yes, I'm determined to do anything which will make him happy. I'll look for more information tomorrow at Gard's library."
Catarina grinned then out of nowhere, giving him a tight hug. "Magnus Bane is a hell of a lucky man!"
Alec pulled out of the hug but then his eyes fell on his watch, it was 10:30. "Shit! Oh, no! Shit! Shit!"
"Alec, what happened?"
"We planned a dinner at 7 today and it's 10:30, Magnus is going to kill me, I need to run!" He said in a hurried tone.
Catarina laughed and shook her head. "Go, get your husband Alec!"
"Bye, Cat!" With that, Alec rushed out of Catarina's house.
__________________________
Magnus was pacing in their living room, eyeing the cold food kept at the kitchen counter and at the clock alternatively. It was almost 10:45. His eyes were filled with the pool of tears that were ready to shed at any moment.
'Where are you, Alexander? You promised you'd make it for dinner.' He sighed and started pacing again when a sudden thought struck him. 'Is... Is he all right? Did something happen to him? Did he go for the hunt? No, No! But he should be home by now then!'
He was about to change into his regular clothes to go out in search of him when he heard the jingle of keys and the door opened making him let out a breath of relief.
Alec walked in and noticed that Magnus was standing in the center of the living room with worry-filled eyes. 'Shit! I'm screwed' he thought then cleared his throat before speaking.
"I'm sorry, Magnus, I... Umm... I...." He kept shuffling in his place, unable to meet the eyes with his husband's.
"Where were you, Alexander?" Magnus almost choked on his words.
Alec noticed this, 'he was crying again, shit! I'm sorry Mags. Just a few more days and you never have to worry about it ever again' he thought.
"I... I was actually with Izzy; she was at the meeting too... I met her after a long time, so after we were both done with our work and meetings we decided to meet for a coffee. We met and started chatting and didn't realize the time. I'm sorry Mags! I should've texted you, I forgot, I'm really sorry." He said half truthfully, Izzy was at the meeting, but she was in a hurry so they only talked for 5 minutes, then she left but she's still in Alicante.
He then took out the flower bouquet he was hiding the whole time, with a sorry card placed on top of it. "I hope this will make up for it, I'm so sorry Magnus!"
Magnus was completely on the verge of crying right now, he was trying to hold his tears back, as he kept glancing between the bouquet and his husband. 'I missed my chance again, how am I supposed to say anything when you keep doing things like this' he thought, unable to keep his tears back he started crying.
"Magnus!?" Alec kept the bouquet on the couch then hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry Magnus, I'm sorry!" 'I know why you're crying Magnus, please don't be scared love, just a few more days!'
Magnus cried on Alec's shoulders, holding his jacket in his fists tightly. 'how am I supposed to tell you, Alexander, how am I supposed to tell you that... that I want to end our marriage, that I want to end us. I can't take it anymore, thinking that you'll be gone forever someday, and I, I'll have to live with those memories. I can't create more memories with you, Alexander. What happened a month ago had hurt me in ways you can't imagine. I can't do this anymore, the more I'll be with you, the more it'll hurt me when you'll be gone. I won't be able to bear that pain, I have to end us, I need to end us, but how am I even going to say it, when you keep showering me with your love' he cried harder on his shoulders.
#happily married#malec forever#malec fic#magnus bane#malec#asaab#angst with a happy ending#angst#fanfic authors#alec lightwood#fanfiction#fanfic#lightwood bane family#fantasy#wattpad writer#wattpad
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Kierarktina Headcanons Part 2
Just some Kierarktina💗
Sometimes they help each other with work. Whether it is New York and Clave stuff or Fae Court drama, they will figure it out together.
They always show up for Blackthorn family holidays. Kieran didn’t know a lot about mundane traditions but found it all interesting.
Mark learns to braid Cristina’s hair and they laugh about it. When they go back to the cottage, Kieran sees one of the little braids in her hair and Mark shows him how. They have fun all day messing with her hair and taking pictures. They love little moments and days like these when they can just relax and be themselves.
One day, Cristina gets a text from her mom inviting them all to dinner and she freaks out a bit. She is happy her mom wants to get to know her boyfriends though.
They had a nice dinner together and her mom was super interested in the faerie stuff. She even told stories about the fae that were connected to their family.
The next day her mom calls and tells her how much she likes having dinner and that she approved of their relationship etc. etc. This makes Cristina really happy.
Kieran hates being king, the people in the courts cause him problems and he just doesn’t think he is good enough or cut out for the job. He gets really stressed out and has a nightmare about his father, he goes to stay at the cottage for a week and tells his court he is going on some kind of king whatever trip.
Mark and Cristina come to the cottage a day after he gets there, he looks super on edge and sleep deprived. He cries into Mark’s shoulder while Cristina rubs soothing circles on his back. He falls asleep in between them.
They talk about it the next day and help him figure out how to get control of the court and remind him of how much he loves his people and that he is a really good king. He also decides to start taking more time off and takes trips to New York to “discuss the relations between shadowhunters and faeries” often.
Their first Christmas in the cabin is wonderful. Cristina decorates it all nice for the holiday and Mark and Kieran find a Christmas tree. They get each other gifts and drink hot chocolate together all day. They also decorate sugar cookies together.
In Mark and Cristina’s apartment in New York, there are tons of pictures of the 3 of them. Cristina and Mark hang them all up on a wall and it looks really good.
When Kieran sees this he loves it and they look at all the pictures and laugh at the memories attached to them. He puts up something similar in his private room at the castle.
They all try to spend as much time together as possible and love each other a lot. I hope to see more of them in the Wicked Powers!
This was my longest one! It is exactly 500 words which is so satisfying. I will be making one more post tonight. Let me know if you like these longer headcanon posts of it is better when they are only around 200 words. My ask box is always open for suggestions!
#kieran kingson#mark blackthorn#cristina rosales#kierarktina#headcanons#this is long#follow me for more
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Like a Lily In a Flood
Title: Like a Lily in a Flood Artist: @myulalie Beta: @another-random-stranger Pairings: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, mentions of Jimon and Reyhill Word Count: 70k Warnings: Mild Gore, Beheading, Nearly being eaten alive and burned at the stake, Discrimination, Sickness Summary: Alec returns home to find his town plagued by a mysterious illness. Unable to find a cure, he ventures into the woods to seek help from an unlikely source. We must not look at goblin men... This fic was created for the Shadowhunters Mini Bang 2021: Presented by the @malecdiscordserver
Chapter One
It was raining.
Then again, it was always raining in Idris when it seemed to matter most.
Alec dipped out of the carriage with a sigh and made a beeline for the manor’s front door, knowing that he was going to get wet regardless.
“Alec,” his mother said coldly as she opened the door. “It was nice of you to take time out of your busy schedule and join us in our time of need.” He sighed, following his mother into the house and stripping off his soaked jacket.
He stood, dripping wet, in the foyer as Maryse looked him over with a hard eye. “It doesn’t look like the city nor the additional training you are supposed to be receiving are doing you any good. Honestly, what was even the point of sending you? You should have stayed here. You could have taken over the household when your father fell ill.”
He knew that his mother meant for her words to hurt him, and there was a time only a few years ago when they would have, but no longer. Getting out from under his parents’ thumb had done wonders for his mental health. He knew who he was now and that he had the ability to choose his own path.
So right now? Standing in the foyer of the house he hadn’t set foot in for two years, soaked to the bone and under his mother’s scrutiny? He felt nothing...and it felt good. “You have Jace,” he replied after a moment, accepting the towel that their butler Hodge was offering him.
She scoffed, crossing her arms in that way which meant an argument was coming. “Jace has his duties and you had yours. You were supposed to be head of this house, and this town, after your father retired.”
He’d first left for the city under the pretense of studying law but he’d fallen out of love with that and discovered that his true passion was architecture. He, of course, hadn’t informed his parents of his decision to switch his field of study. They’d be disappointed and there would be words, and while their opinions no longer mattered to him, he needed to be in the right frame of mind for that conversation. He didn’t foresee himself wanting to take that dive any time soon. “I left for the family’s best interest. We need to get out of here. This town is killing all of us.”
Before his father had fallen ill, he’d meant that metaphorically. Generations of Lightwoods had lived in Idris for nearly two-hundred years and had held the position of mayor for most of that. In that time, his family had grown crueler and colder. Once, they’d been a light in the darkness for the people in this town, rescuing them from disaster and leading them through. Today, the Lightwoods still led… but they definitely no longer did it with Idris’ best interest at heart.
No, it was all about power. Alec hated that and all the politics that came with it. That’s what he had hoped to avoid by moving to the city. One day, he was hoping he could have his siblings join him.
His mother chose to say nothing more. He draped the towel over his shoulders with a sigh. “Let me see him. I’m here now, at least.” Alec had tried to get there sooner but the spring rain made getting across the river treacherous. He had to wait a couple of days for the water to get back to normal levels. His mother started up the stairs and he followed her without further comment.
“I have the house and the town to attend to. Someone has to run this place while Robert is indisposed. I’ll leave you to it but come find me when you’re done, Alec. We have issues to discuss.” She closed the door behind her, leaving Alec alone in the room with his very ill and unconscious father.
Alec had seen his father in a lot of ways — some good, some bad, but he’d never seen him like this. The older man was pale and clammy and yet somehow looked peaceful. This illness was like nothing the town had ever seen before. Their doctors had been completely stumped...the first few symptoms had appeared — loss of appetite, attention, and other cognitive abilities that soon gave way to fever. The fever never broke and eventually, the patient lost consciousness. They were slowly wasting away into nothing.
Except not quite. They’d realized that the first few patients never got worse in that way that they did when their ancestors had the wasting disease caused by bad fruit. Instead, their body almost seemed to be turning to stone. And that was frighteningly new and uncharted waters.
“I’m sorry that I couldn’t come sooner,” he whispered as he touched the back of his hand gently to his father’s head. The fever was still there and his skin felt all too brittle. “But I promise I will do whatever is in my power to find a way to fix this.”
“We’re glad you’re finally here, Alec,” a voice said, pulling him from his reverie to turn to the door. “We tried to do the best that we could but...neither Izzy nor I are you, and Maryse just wants to keep doing that thing where she insists there’s no problem at all and it’s business as usual.” Jace closed the door quietly behind him and pulled his brother into a hug.
“Do you guys know anything? Mom’s letter was…” His voice trailed off as he searched for more polite words.
“Entirely lacking?” Jace supplied for him. “Unfortunately, nothing solid. They all seem to have fallen ill at around the same time. There are eleven total and they were all fairly recently on a patrol of the borders. We’ve hired sorcerers from the city, hedge witches, even a psychic or two, but no one can find anything wrong with them. They’re just...asleep. Asleep but slowly turning to stone it seems. We’ve got people digging through old books in the archives but no one has turned up anything even remotely similar to whatever this is.”
Alec wasn’t a doctor — he was, in fact, the farthest thing from one. Isabelle knew infinitely more than he did when it came to medicine. What he lacked in knowledge, he made up for in stubborn determination and his ability to think around a situation. If he wanted to find a possible cure for whatever was ailing the townspeople, he’d have to think outside of the proverbial box. “I’ll do what I can,” he said after a moment, giving his father’s unconscious form one last look before stepping into the hallway with Jace at his heels. “I’m not a miracle worker.” But he’d be damned sure he’d try to be one.
“I’ve got to get back. I just wanted to see you before you passed out or Maryse got to you first,” Jace replied, squeezing his shoulder and heading down the stairs towards the front door. “Good luck in there — she’s been… particularly Maryse since Robert took ill.” That fact didn’t surprise Alec at all. His mother had never dealt with change very well.
She was waiting for him in his father’s office, exactly where he had expected her to be. “Close the door behind you, Alec. What I’ve got to say need not fall on nosy ears.” He knew she was referring to Isabelle and her endless curiosity. While he didn’t necessarily agree with his mother’s request, he did oblige. “Take a seat.” She gestured towards a chair in front of the desk — one that Alec had distinct memories of sitting in any time he’d gotten in trouble when he’d been younger and had been called in front of his father. Alec chose the farther seat instead, ignoring the judgemental look that he received.
“As no cure has been found nor diagnosis made and your father’s condition is only getting worse, we need to prepare for the worst.” She pushed a yellowed document across the desk and Alec took it, scanning the page quickly before realizing what he was holding in his hand.
“This is his will,” he stated simply, his fingers glossing over the page as he quickly read through it. It didn’t look like it had been written recently. His mother nodded her head in confirmation.
“He’s been preparing for the worst. He’s already a few years older than your grandfather and your great-grandfather were when they died… and there have been stirrings on the borders. He was afraid that the men would be called to war any day now.” Alec frowned at that. He hadn’t heard of anything going on that would signal the start of a war. Sure, Idris wasn’t a big town but if war was truly coming, he assumed someone in his family would have told him.
“Oh, don’t give me that. There hasn’t been anything truly substantial. Some whispers, some unrest, but nothing more than that. Robert has been...unwell for a while now. He’s grown...paranoid. He had his will drawn up shortly after you left.” Her stoic facade had broken now and Alec could count on one hand the number of times that he’d seen his mother look truly lost.
“It was his idea to say yes when you asked to go to college in the city,” she continued, holding out her hand for him to return the will. “He thought getting out of here would keep you safe and if you were safe there would be someone to take over when he was gone. That’s what he really wanted and I’m sorry Alec, I know you’re enjoying your time at The Institute studying law but the family needs you here now.”
He wanted to argue. Angel, how he wanted to argue with her. He had had to fight tooth and claw to get them to even consider letting him into the city to further his studies. The Lightwoods had been here for generations and not a single one of them had ever left. This was home or at least it should be. Alec had always felt more alienated than most for reasons he tried to keep to himself.
So while yes, he knew that he should fight and argue and insist that he deserved to go back to the city because he had fought so damn hard for it in the first place, he knew that right here, right now… his argument would fall flat. The very best thing he could do was study and beg and plead and crawl through whatever hell he needed to to find a cure for this illness. When his father was well again and his father wanted him safe, he’d have a better chance of getting out of here once more. “Of course, mother, anything for the family,” he replied, trying to keep his voice level. “I’ll get to work at once.”
She sighed, obviously expecting more of a fight out of him and now not really sure how the rest of the conversation was going to go. “No, not at once. You’ve only just arrived and I’m sure you are exhausted. Besides, you’re still dripping on the mahogany floors. Go change before you ruin the antique wood, and say hello to your sister. She’s been waiting for you to get here.”
Alec didn’t bother with a response, simply turning on his heel and heading towards the stables — where he knew his sister would inevitably be hiding. The rain was starting to slow but Alec didn’t want to get even wetter if he could avoid it so he jogged across the cobblestones and pushed open the barn door.
Isabelle was, as expected, at the end of the aisle, illuminated by the grey hues of the rainy weather outside. She raised her whip above her head and snapped it towards a lone bottle on the rail with a loud crack. Alec continued to watch in silence for a few more moments as she set the bottle back up and went again. Finally, he let out a slow clap and watched as she tensed, relaxing once again when she realized who had interrupted her practice session.
“Good job,” he said, opening his arms to allow her to dash across the room to give him a hug. “You’re getting better at that. I dare say you might even be an expert.”
She snorted, her face buried in his shoulder as the two continued to hug. “Try telling that to mom. She still thinks it isn’t proper and that I should focus on finding myself a husband from a nice family. ‘Leave the weapons to your brothers, Isabelle. Men don’t want a wife who can beat them in a sword fight,” she mocked in a very good imitation of Maryse Lightwood.
“Ignore her. Any man you find would be lucky to have you. Besides, if you stopped, who would be my competition?” Alec asked, taking a step back so that he could look down into her eyes. “I’d have to practice with Jace and you know how he is...he—”
“Cheats,” she interrupted with a sniffle. “Yeah, I know. He hasn’t gotten any better, either. Still just as cocky, still a bad liar, and still telegraphs his moves.” She put the bottles back on the shelf and began to coil her whip back up. “He missed you, you know. I do too...and Max. It’s just not the same without you here.”
Alec knew that Isabelle knew exactly why he’d needed to leave. He also knew that she didn’t blame him, but the Lightwood siblings had always been close. He missed not being able to see them more than once a year.
“Mom’s been...harder since Dad got sick. She’s worried, we can tell, but she’s trying to continue as if it’s business as usual and you know how she is when she gets stressed,” Isabelle sighed. Alec knew all too well. Maryse tended to meddle in her children’s lives far more than was necessary.
That had, in fact, been the final straw for Alec. His mother had been dealing with some Idris politics and had decided to kill two birds with one stone. She’d set Alec up with a nice young girl from the village to strengthen the Lightwood family name and had given herself something to take her mind off the stress from work.
Alec had nearly ended up married.
Nearly. Luckily, Jace and Isabelle had stepped up to argue about Alec’s choice and happiness. The wedding had descended into chaos and Alec had set out for the city the next day under the guise of studying law.
“Come on,” he said after a moment, throwing his arm around her shoulder and pulling her back in for a quick hug. “Let’s head back inside. I want to change into something dry and I’ve yet to see Max. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to see me.”
----------
Dinner was a quieter affair than Alec expected from a Lightwood family dinner. Without Robert there to judge them, his conversation with his siblings was light and easy. Jace and Isabelle caught him up on town gossip. Max tried to add his two cents when he could but the conversation strayed towards more adult topics like who was marrying who and what the Council had recently decreed.
“Mom says she’s going to send me to boarding school in the fall,” Max stated when there was a break in conversation. “I don’t want to go. I’ll have to wear a scratchy uniform and get up early and it’ll be so far away. I want to be like Jace and fight monsters!”
“Max, don’t talk with your mouth full,” Maryse replied with a glare. “The Carstairs Academy is a lovely school. They’ll teach you manners, for one thing. You’ll learn math, science, and history. You’ll be going to a proper school — like Alec. Doesn’t that sound fun?”
The little boy grimaced. “I don’t want to be like Alec...no offense. I want to kill dragons and fight trolls like Jace.”
“It’s less dragons and trolls and more about upset fathers and a fast horse, little man,” Jace replied, getting a smack on the back of the head from Isabelle. “What? It’s true.”
“That’s enough — apparently, none of my children have manners. Max, it’s past your bedtime. It’s time to let the adults talk.” Max looked about to argue but one look from Maryse had him pushing in his chair and shuffling out of the room. Once they heard the door upstairs shut with an audible thud, she turned her attention back towards her other children. “I’ll be leaving before the sun rises. I’m heading to Alicante tomorrow to seek help from the king. I’ll start in town, we’ll leave two days after that. I’ll be gone as long as it takes to make our case.”
Alec’s fork clattered to his plate. “What? You’re just leaving? Dad’s already indisposed and you’re just going to leave the town without any sort of leadership? You’re going to leave us here alone?” He was well aware that his parents had made some stupid decisions in the past but this had to be one of the stupidest that he’d heard.
“The rest of the Council is still in town, Alec, and in case you have forgotten, I brought you back. We’ve tried everything to cure this and nothing is working. We’re losing more people to this cursed disease each day. We’ve got to try something. Pleading our case to the king and hoping for assistance is all we’ve got left.”
Alec picked up his fork and said nothing in response. He was sure the anger was coming off him in visible waves. “I’m not going alone, Alec,” his mother said after a moment, choosing not to start an argument and stating the facts instead. “Two of your father’s men will be going with me. We’ll only be gone a couple of weeks. With luck, we return with a cure.”
----------
Much later that evening, well after dinner had finished and his mother and siblings had gone off to bed and he’d had time to cool off, Alec found himself in the library staring at shelf after shelf of books that his family had collected over the years. His mother was certain that they’d already exhausted every possible option they had for a cure here, but Alec had never been one to give up that easily.
There had to be something in the thousands of books that they had here — even if it was just a footnote in some ancient text.
Angel, where would he even start?
He walked past the first shelf and ran his fingers gently over the spines of the books, taking in the titles as he did.
A Brief History of Idris, Recipes From the Coast, Nursery Rhymes and Other Tales, The Art of Breaking a Horse…
There was no rhyme nor reason to how anything here was shelved and he wished he was back in Alicante where he had a card catalog to reference at the very least. This could be a futile effort… but he had promised that he’d try, so try he shall.
He pulled the first book off the shelf — A Brief History of Idris —- and flipped to the first page. It was written by one of his ancestors; a Lightwood whose name he didn’t recognize. Maybe, with luck, that Lightwood had stumbled across something — anything — all those years ago that could help him now.
He could hope, at least.
Two hours later, he’d scanned quickly through the book and found it to be completely useless. He’d learned exactly nothing. The ‘brief history’ had been exactly what every child in Idris learned in school. He pushed himself off the chair he’d settled in and placed the book on the shelf. He could skip the cookbook — the likelihood of him finding a cure in that wasn’t high — before he moved on to the next one. Nursery Rhymes.
He meant to skip that one too but as his hand hovered over it, he realized that many myths and legends were often based in fact. It couldn’t hurt to give it a try. At the very least it wouldn’t take him long to read.
Most of the rhymes and stories were useless — schoolyard songs or bedtime stories — but tucked away at the end of the book was one that seemed a bit out of place. This was a longer poem with far more complicated words than the rest of the book. He frowned and glanced at the title.
The Goblin Market.
What?
Alec of course knew of the goblins who lived in the woods — all children in Idris were taught about them. The goblins were dangerous and would kidnap and eat children if they strayed too far into the woods. They used to be friendly with the townspeople but a war broke out and that relationship had ended. The goblins had secluded themselves in the woods — keeping their magic to themselves — and the people of Idris stayed in town and imported anything they needed from the neighboring cities.
It wasn’t an ideal situation but it was the one that they’d come up with quickly, and no one had ever seen fit to try and fix it.
The poem followed the story of two sisters who had heard the goblins crying in the middle of the night as they were trying to sell their fruits. One of the sisters tried what they were offering and fell ill when they returned home. She became listless and began to fade away. Her sister tried to save her and returned to the goblin market to obtain another fruit which she brought home and fed to her sister. The sister was cured and both girls lived happily ever after.
Alec frowned. That was similar to what the town was experiencing now… but the poem mentioned nothing about the sister turning to stone. After all the warnings about venturing into the woods that were drilled into them when they were little, surely none of the men who had fallen sick had been stupid enough to go to the goblins to try and trade.
He sighed and glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room to find that three hours had passed since he’d been in here and it was now well after 2 in the morning. He should retire to his room to get a few hours of sleep before he had to wake up but...perhaps he had time for one more book.
Instead of putting the nursery rhyme book back on the shelf, he pushed it off to the corner of the table. Worst case he’d put it back later. There was no harm in leaving it out for now.
He walked back to the shelf and skipped over the book on horse training. The very next one was titled Herbal Remedies of Our Ancestors.
Finally. That was more like it.
----------
When his sister pushed open the door to the library the next morning, Alec jumped. He glanced at the clock and found that nearly five hours had passed since he’d pulled the book of herbal remedies off the shelf and began reading.
A few pages in, he’d pulled a sheet of paper out from the desk and had begun taking notes. One sheet had turned into two, which had quickly turned into far more than that.
There were so many plants that had been used to treat common illnesses when people weren’t so reliant on modern medicine or the magic from the sorcerers found in the cities.
Catnip for recovery from colds. St. John’s Wort for inflammation. Marigold for skin diseases.
It was a start.
Isabelle came up behind him and glanced over his shoulder with a frown. “That’s a lot of plants you’ve written down. I’m sure the hedge witch tried at least some of them. It’s not like we have a stock of these. Where do you expect to find Elderberry without a day’s ride out of Idris and a day’s ride back? We don’t really have that sort of time.”
He hadn’t considered that.
But perhaps there was a solution.
He glanced out of the window and a plan began to form in the back of his mind.
“I’ll have to visit the woods,” he said after a moment, grabbing the two books and his stack of papers and heading back to his room. He needed to prepare if he was venturing into the unknown.
“Alec! You can’t go into the woods. You know that we’ve all been banned from there. It isn’t safe!”
“I know, Izzy. Trust me, I know, but right now this is the only idea we’ve got to try to save our father and the rest of the people who have fallen sick; unless you’ve got a better idea that you’d like to share?” She remained silent and Alec shook his head. “I’ve got to get ready. Tell Jace to find me if he hasn’t left already and can you saddle Flame?”
She looked like she wanted to say more but eventually relented with a shake of her head. Alec watched her go with a sigh. He knew she was right — heading into the woods was a stupid and reckless idea at best...but it was one he had to try.
He quickly got dressed and grabbed a satchel from his closet. He’d leave the books here, just in case, but he needed a way to carry the list of plants he wanted to collect...as well as any plants he may actually find.
What else did he need to take?
He dashed down the stairs and into his father’s office, thanking the small miracle of his mother heading into town early this morning. Map...he probably needed a map. He rifled through the desk and found one tucked away at the back of a drawer. It was old but it would have to do. After all, no one had been in the woods in years. This was probably the most recent map they had.
Alec looked around, trying to figure out if there was anything else in here he’d need as Jace knocked on the door. His brother frowned at Alec’s frantic state. “Isabelle says you're going into the woods to pick some flowers? Come on, Alec, that’s a stupid idea. We can’t risk losing you too.”
“I know, Jace. I’ll be safe and I’ll be back by nightfall. I won’t push myself unnecessarily today but you know that everything that has been tried hasn’t worked. I came back to try and help with finding a cure, and I’m willing to give this a shot.”
Jace sighed, “What can I help with? Izzy said you needed to see me.”
“I need you to stay here… and I need some weapons. Have you seen my bow recently?” He hadn’t taken it with him when he’d moved to Alicante — he only hoped that his siblings had hidden it and that his parents hadn’t done the unthinkable.
“You’re sure about this?” Jace asked as Alec nodded. “Alright...then I’ll get it and meet you outside.”
Isabelle was waiting with Flame’s reins in her hand. The chestnut thoroughbred stamped his feet impatiently, unhappy to be standing still as long as he had been. Jace joined them with Alec’s bow and a small collection of knives a few moments later.
“I still don’t think this is a good idea,” the blond muttered, handing Alec’s weapons to him one by one before holding the horse steady so that Alec could mount. “Reckless is my style, not yours.”
“I’ll stay close to home. I’ll be on my guard. You’ve crossed through the woods a time or two and lived to tell the tail. I may have moved to the city, Jace, but I’m not inept. Remember who taught you.”
“Oh, trust me, you never let me forget it. Just be careful, alright? There are supposed to be some things in those woods that would frighten even me.” Alec tilted his head in response and spurred his horse on towards the woods. He’d stick to the trail as long as he could, but instead of veering left and heading into town, he’d take the worn deer trail through the trees.
He reminded himself that he would take any chance at saving his people and his family — even if it meant venturing into the deep woods and confronting the dangerous creatures that were said to live inside.
When he said he’d try anything — he meant it in every sense of the word. He still didn’t entirely believe the myths and legends of the goblin men that were said to inhabit Edom Forest but the town’s elders seemed to believe they did truly exist and Alec was certain no one had thought to go to the monsters for a solution.
He’d told Jace and Isabelle of his intentions, but instead told his mother that he was heading into town. It wasn’t entirely a lie. He’d had to cross the bridge that would lead him to Idris before he’d reach the path that would take him off the road and into the forest. When the cobblestones ended, he was faced with an overgrown dirt path that seemingly led to nowhere. He pulled Flame to a brief halt and quickly glanced over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t being followed before clicking him on and making his way into the woods.
His first impression of Edom Forest was that it wasn’t anything spectacular. He rode for two hours and noticed that the trees were like any other trees, the birds like any other birds, and there were certainly no trace of goblins in sight. He was beginning to think he’d been tricked by children’s tales when a scrap of color flapping in the wind caught his attention. He brought his horse to a halt.
It was a scrap of purple cloth with texture that Alec had never seen before. He’d never seen anyone in the town wearing anything this color either, as purple dyes tended to be expensive. If they were in the city, sure, but not here in Edom Forest. He left it fluttering where it was tied on the branch as he noticed another piece a little further down the path. If he strained his eyes, he could see a third splash of purple past that.
He had no way of knowing who had left these markers here or for what reason, but right now this was his best lead to finding the goblins in the woods. And like he kept telling himself, he was willing to try anything.
He could be met with swords,traps or wild animals. The goblins themselves might make an appearance. His people had no knowledge of what existed this deep into the woods outside of old wives’ tales and cautionary tales for children. Who knew what he would come across?
He took a deep breath and nudged his horse forward. The gelding hesitated for a moment — feeding off Alec’s own growing unease — before taking a few slow steps in the direction he’d been pointed towards, his head high and eyes wide the entire time.
Alec had certainly been expecting to find something after following the trail of purple scraps. What he hadn’t been expecting to find was a stray horse who was calmly grazing under a tall, oddly shaped Ash tree without a human in sight.
The stallion was solid black and soaking wet, like he’d been ridden hard despite the lack of tack or rider around him. Alec gently jumped from his horse’s back and took a few slow steps forward hoping that he didn’t spook the animal. “Whoa, boy. It’s alright.” He held his hand out gently and let the horse take a cautious sniff. “Surely, you aren’t out here alone.”
The horse’s nose touched the back of Alec’s hand gently. Alec took a moment to look him over. He was small...around 14 hands if he had to guess, and not much bigger than Max’s pony. There wasn’t a lick of white on him, and while his mane and tail were wet and slightly tangled, the rest of him was in good condition. The pony didn’t look like he’d been living rough — so he’d either just escaped or had dumped his rider and somehow escaped his tack. “Where’s your person? I can’t leave you out here like this.”
The horse huffed and nosed at Alec’s pockets. “Hey now, that’s enough. I didn’t exactly come out here prepared to take in a stray. I was looking for something else. I don’t suppose you’ve seen any goblins have you?”
“He likes you.” The voice that came from above startled Alec, and he took a step back from the mysterious horse to glance upwards. There was a man sitting on a thick branch about halfway up. With the sun behind him, Alec couldn’t see little more than that. The voice sounded amused though, and Alec had to wonder what the mystery man was doing this deep into the woods.
“How can you tell?” It was a stupid question, he knew that, but he couldn’t stop himself before the words had passed his lips. He should be asking for a name or providing his, not asking why the horse liked him. Not the smartest thing, he thought to himself.
“He hasn’t eaten you yet,” The man jumped gracefully to a lower branch before performing an elaborate flip for a dismount and landing steadily on his feet. “Kelpies have unusually sharp teeth, a taste for flesh and blood, and an attitude that would give even the haughtiest of lords a run for their money.”
Alec instinctively took a step back, which didn’t seem to phase the horse — kelpie, apparently — who continued to search Alec’s pockets for some sort of snack. “He doesn’t look like a kelpie.” As far as he was aware, kelpies weren’t real. Even if they were, the books said they were supposed to have seaweed in their manes and tales, backward hooves, and razor sharp teeth. This looked like a small, lightly built riding pony.
“And how many kelpies have you actually seen? They wouldn’t be very effective hunters if you could see what they are before they strike.” The other man replied, patting the horse on the shoulder affectionately. “I’m Magnus Bane. And who are you, handsome stranger?”
“Alec.” Now that the sun wasn’t casting a silhouette behind him, Alec could get a better look at the man. He was shorter than Alec, though his heeled boots gave him some height. His skin was the color of honey, his hair was dark with a streak of blue through it, and his eyes…
Alec lost himself in Magnus’ eyes. They were golden with slit pupils...quite like the cats that hung around the barn. And they were enough to tell Alec that the man wasn’t human — no human would have eyes like that.
“You’re a goblin,” Alec stuttered. The books hadn’t really said what the goblins looked like. He vaguely recalled something about a cat’s face and a rat’s tail...or was it furry and like a snail? Humans didn’t have cat’s eyes, though. Even if Magnus weren’t a goblin, he was certainly something different; and that was maybe, just maybe, another avenue that Alec could try for a possible cure.
It was only after he had these thoughts that he wondered if he should worry about his own safety. His hand went to the knife on his belt before he’d realized it.
Magnus hummed, watching the realization cross Alec’s face before he laughed. “Not quite. I’m only half. My father is but my mother was a mere human. Nothing goblin about her. In fact, if I had to guess she was from your town. Idris, am I right? Though, this was quite some time ago, well before you were ever around, pup.”
“How did that happen? And my name is Alec, not pup.” As far as Alec was aware, the goblins stayed deep inside the forest and the people of Idris were told to avoid them. They hadn’t actually been seen in years. Many of the younger people thought they were nothing more than a myth. Alec certainly hadn’t believed in them. Until now, that was. It was hard not to believe when reality was staring you in the face with cat’s eyes, a wisp of blue hair, and a sharp look.
“How do you think?” Magnus replied, fishing around in his bag for an apple. “‘We must not look at goblin men, we must not buy their fruits, who knows upon what soil they fed, their hungry thirsty roots.’ That’s how it went...I think. It’s been a while since I’ve read it. Books aren’t exactly easy to come by out here.” He took a bite and held the rest out towards the kelpie.
“I’m sorry, that was a stupid question.” Alec knew which poem Magnus was referencing. He had run across the poem during his research but he’d passed it over as nothing more than a cautionary tale for children. Maybe he should have paid more attention.
“It’s fine, I’m used to it...and you didn’t know any better. How many dashing half-goblins have you ever met in your life?” Magnus winked and Alec felt a blush rise across his face.
“You’d be the first.”
“And what are you doing out in the middle of the woods looking for goblins, my lord? Aren’t you humans warned of the dangers you could find? I’m pretty sure that poem specifically mentioned all the terrible things that could happen to a fair maiden.”
Alec snorted, and continued to rub his hand down the kelpie’s nose. “Well, for one I’m not a fair maiden, nor am I a lord actually, and to answer your question: I was hoping to hunt down a lead on the illness that’s currently plaguing the village.”
“And you think the goblins are to blame?” Magnus’ voice had been playful before, but now his words took a cutting tone.
“No, of course not,” Alec replied hastily, holding up his hands in surrender. “We’ve co-existed, sort of, for a while now. As far as I know, nothing has changed in that regard. I’m just…” he sighed and glanced back towards the direction he knew his parents’ house to be. “I’m hoping for answers, I’m willing to try anything at this point. They’ve called physicians from the city, a psychic or two, a hedge witch...the people who have fallen ill are good people. They don’t deserve what’s befallen them. I found a book in our collection last night. It’s got some herbs in it...so I made a list. I’m no expert but it can’t hurt to try.”
He chose to leave out that some of those people were only mostly good — his father certainly wasn’t the best man, but there was no reason Magnus needed to know that. Not yet.
“I haven’t heard of a disease in the village, but I wouldn’t go looking towards the goblins for a cure. They aren’t the most helpful of people — they’re more liable to cause you harm than anything close to help.” Magnus tapped his finger against his chin in thought. “An illness you say? You humans are susceptible to so many things. There was a plague about a hundred years ago if I recall. What makes you think it isn’t something like that?”
“Well, for one thing no one has actually died,” Alec replied as Magnus circled him slowly, feeling every bit like a deer cornered by a leopard. “It starts with a fever. Eventually, confusion. Finally, they fall into a deep sleep. And…” His voice trailed off. That did make it seem like a normal illness but Alec knew there was more.
“And?” Magnus had stopped circling him to lean against the tree with his arms crossed.
“Their skin gets hard. It feels almost like stone? I know that probably sounds stupid. I just don’t know how else to explain it.”
“It’s not stupid at all,” the half-goblin replied. “Magical illnesses can have all sorts of weird side effects. A friend of mine once turned prickly.” There was a pause as he looked Alec over once more.“You said you had a list?” Magnus asked finally, pulling on a purple tailcoat that had been discarded haphazardly behind the tree. “Can I see?”
Alec pulled it out of his bag and handed it over to him. “You’d help me find these? You think this might be caused by magic?”
“Magic, a curse, anything is possible but if you’ve tried as many cures as you say you have then it’s probably safe to assume that it’s something your people haven’t seen before. Ergo, magic.” Magnus read over the piece of parchment with a frown. “Some of them are out of season and others aren’t in this part of the woods but I can show you where to find the majority.” He glanced around before a smile crossed his face that had Alec’s heart flipping. The half-goblin bent down and plucked a small purple and yellow flower from the ground in front of Alec. “Heartsease. Kiss-Me-Quick. Banewort...also known as a wild pansy. It’s good for skin conditions and colds. I believe that’s on your list.”
Alec felt a blush rise in his cheeks as he took the flower. Why on earth was being handed a single flower by a strange (but beautiful) man he just met affecting him this way? “Thanks,” he managed to stammer after a moment. He gently wrapped the flower in a cloth and placed it in his bag.
Magnus’ eyes twinkled as he grabbed a lock of the kelpie’s mane and hoisted himself on it’s back. “I saw some Meadowsweet earlier this morning. It isn’t far and I wouldn’t mind collecting some myself. It’s good for pain.” He glanced back at Alec with a raised eyebrow. “Are you coming?”
Alec had never mounted a horse faster in his life.
----------
“Do you even know what you plan on doing with these?” Magnus asked as they wove their way through a dense and varied forest.
“The book had some suggestions,” Alec started, frowning as they passed by a group of trees with large, bell-shaped yellow flowers. “Though I’m by no means an expert. I went to school for architecture, not herbalism.” He pulled his horse to a halt and reached out to touch one of the flowers that was now hanging eye-level with him. “I’m sorry — is this Angel’s trumpet? I thought it only grew in the tropics.”
Magnus laughed. “Or Devil’s trumpet, depending on who you ask, and I wouldn’t mess with it. It’s not exactly safe. Well, it’s not necessarily poisonous to touch but I still wouldn’t mess with it. It's hallucinogenic, among other things...and I don't think a bad trip was really what you had in mind when you came out here today.”
“And how’s it growing in the middle of Edom Forest? If it’s that dangerous I would feel much better if it grew far, far away where the weather is much more suited to it?” He nudged Flame until he was level with the kelpie.
Magnus merely laughed. “That’s the beauty of magic, my dear Alexander. There’s no rhyme nor reason to it. Anything can happen.” He raised his hand as blue sparks danced around his fingertips. “Haven’t you ever noticed that it never snows in the woods? You’ll have three feet out there and yet, not a flake falls here. It’s warm and sunny year round.”
As he said that, Alec realized that he hadn't noticed. He’d never paid much attention to the woods since they were forbidden to go there, but it wouldn’t take a genius to see that the weather was entirely different a few feet away.
“Don’t look too distressed,” Magnus chuckled upon seeing the face that Alec was making. “There’s all sorts of spells and old magic around. Spells that grew into the very trees, wards set by goblins past and re-set by goblins present...other magical creatures whose very existence spells safety to those who live around them. You wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been purposefully trying to look through the magic. The Look-Not spells surrounding the woods are strong.”
Wait, Alec thought as he kicked his horse into a trot to catch up with Magnus and the kelpie. “What other magical creatures? I thought it was just the goblins that lived in the woods? Well, I guess the goblins and the half-goblins.”
“It may have started with the goblins but it certainly didn’t end with them.” Magnus stopped a moment later, sliding off the back of his horse to kneel in front of a grassy plant with yellow flowers. “Toadflax. This was on your list as well, I believe. It’s good for treating rashes and the like. You make it into a compress using milk. I hope the specifics are in your book. This is more my friend’s area of expertise than mine.” He handed the flower to Alec who wrapped it gently in more white cloth and placed it in his bag.
“What’s your area of expertise then? And you still haven’t answered my question. What other creatures?”
“My area of expertise is magic itself, of course. I’m uniquely qualified to be good at magic,” Magnus replied as butterflies made of blue energy danced around them.
“And what makes you qualified?” Alec asked, crossing his arms. “Are all goblins this cryptic?”
Magnus laughed, “I’m not being cryptic, I’m being coy...and I can’t tell you all my secrets on the first date — no matter how pretty you are.”
Alec huffed as another blush rose on his cheeks. “This isn’t a date...but fine, how about you elaborate on the other magical creatures thing then? I don’t like finding out that everything I’ve ever known about a place is false.”
The goblin studied him for a moment before he nodded. “Very well. Once we put the spells and the wards up to stop the needless death that was happening at the time, humans were driven to stay away. It was the only thing that we could do to keep ourselves safe without being driven out of our home. Because we were now safe from humans, the other creatures that were hunted for merely being creatures of magic began to take refuge here as well.”
Magnus chose not to mount back up so Alec slid from his horse’s back as well. They walked in silence for a moment before the half-goblin turned around. “Actually, it’s quite curious that you got through. You should have wanted to turn tail as soon as you got too close.”
“I was uncomfortable,” Alec said after a moment, recalling the sense of dread that had washed over him before he’d guided his horse off the path. “But I’d do anything to help my family...even if that means taking a risk I’m not necessarily meant to take.”
Magnus had stopped again, this time in front of a fluffy, white, flowering weed. “The promised Meadowsweet. It’s typically made into a tea or an elixir. Pick your poison. Well, not poison but I’m sure you catch my meaning.”
Alec collected a few of the flowers as Magnus did the same. “I’m not sure that tea is going to do much good when the patients are unconscious.”
“You’ll have to try one thing at a time. Maybe treat the symptoms first until you have a better idea of the root cause...perhaps you’ll get lucky and by treating one you’ll learn more about another. Medicine, like magic, is a lot of trial and error.”
“Well, I’m certainly willing to try,” Alec said after a moment. He threw his bag over his horse’s withers and pulled himself into the saddle once more. “I seem to be the only one left willing to try. Everyone else seems to have given up. They’re getting ready to petition the king for some kind of miracle.”
Magnus hummed as he pulled himself onto the back of his own horse. “Well then, I suppose we better find a few more for you to try. It sounds like you don’t have any time to lose.”
Alec followed the half-goblin dutifully all afternoon, trying to remember each and every instruction he was given as he was handed plant after plant. Finally, the sun began to duck behind the treetops and Alec grimaced. “I best be getting back. If I don’t return before dark, my brother will send a search party. Trust me, we don’t want the kind of mess he tends to bring with him.”
“Fair enough,” Magnus replied with a smile. “I figured that would be the case. Your trail awaits, my lord.” He swept his arms towards the dirt path that Alec had taken when he’d first entered the woods this morning. He hadn’t even realized that they had circled back.
“Thank you for all your help today. I’m not certain I could have found any of these without you.” He probably wouldn’t have even managed to find one if Magnus hadn’t helped.
“It was no trouble at all — definitely an interesting way to spend an afternoon. The sight sure didn’t hurt either.” Alec blushed and Magnus plucked a single blue flower with a yellow star center off the ground and held it out to him.
“What’s this one supposed to do?” Alec asked as he took the flower and twirled it gently in his fingers.
“Absolutely nothing. I just think it’s pretty. Good luck playing doctor, Alexander.” With that, he turned his horse and trotted back into the woods, leaving Alec standing in the trail alone.
----------
My Dearest Cabbage,
I’ll preface this by saying that yes, I do know exactly what you’re going to say after reading my letter so I will save you the hassle of a fire message in response.
Yes, what I did was incredibly stupid and reckless. Trust me, I’m well aware but you know how I do so love a good enigma.
It seems some sort of mysterious and possibly magical illness is plaguing the citizens of Idris. They’ve apparently tried all sorts of methods to heal their sick to no avail.
No, I haven’t been taking a risky trip into the city. Trust me, I’ve learned my lesson there. One of their people somehow managed to get through the protections and spells in the forest and came looking for plants that could potentially be used to treat the disease.
I have my doubts that any will work for him, but I sent him home with some regardless.
Could our wards be fading? No mere human should be able to pass over the border. We should meet sometime soon to check that the spells still hold strong. They are all that are standing between us and the people of Idris.
I’ll keep you advised if I receive any more information.
Delightfully yours,
M.B.
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https://thechangeling.tumblr.com/post/647039095374233600/ok-so-a-conversation-littlx-songbxrd-and-i-were sorry for the confusion!! I am stupid and didn't think of linking the post.
ur not stupid dw about it!!
overall i think it was a good post, but i’m not really sure i agree w op very much at all. i’ll go in order of their post:
it does kind of make sense that they still encourage female shadowhunters to train, even if they don’t want them in power. shadowhunters die very young and there aren’t that many of them when you consider how many demons there are. they simply need more fighters. i don’t think it’s partial sexism--rather it’s just knowing they need more numbers to win
skipping accidental microaggressions point since op said they’ll discuss it again later
i don’t think it’s exactly fair to use jessamine of all people as someone who agrees with general shadowhunter opinions. she doesn’t even want to train, so if she says smth racist about jem, then yeah, that’s just a jessamine thing. and i think jem and will talking about being chinese and welsh has to do more w their cultural bonds. will correlates his welsh heritage to his sister and the family he loves so much but had to leave behind. of course he considers his welsh-ness (? lol) important. same for jem--it’s his tie to his dead parents. it’s more about preserving people’s memories. if u always remember someone and carry them w you everywhere, then they’ll never truly be dead, that sort of thing.
jesse and gabriel (actually i don’t remember jesse. is this jesse blackthorn op’s referring to? i only know the general plot of tlh, but i haven’t read it) gabriel is a lightwood. when we first meet them, we’re biased toward herondales and carstairs as we’ve fallen in love w will and jem. will doesn’t like lightwoods. gabriel saying something horrible in the beginning just makes literary sense. plus lightwoods have a long history of being against change. like jessamine, they don’t really represent the common shadowhunter opinions.
for the cordelia thing, see my point #1. the sword is just bc she’s a shadowhunter. plus i’ve never read tlh, so i’m just going to brush past tlh-related stuff if you don’t mind <3
i do agree w this idea that cc perpetuates the idea that good people never commit microaggressions. which is, as op said, extremely harmful. but this isn’t always a thing. jace commits many many microaggressions lol. maybe tlh and tid do this, but tmi didn’t hold back (probably bc tmi was written in 2007, so people weren’t as put off by putting that sort of thing in your books).
i’m not sure if this was in the show or in the books, but i kind of recall magnus saying something about he only wanted to get married if they could get married in gold like shadowhunters. i’m 80% it was in the books. this is proof that the issue w alec and magnus marrying wasn’t just a downworlder problem, but also a homophobia issue.
STRONGLY disagree. misogyny is HUGE in tmi. it’s not as in your face as you might think at first, but it’s there. isabelle is constantly slut shamed, maryse is always shoved into roles she doesn’t want to be in so she can preserve a good front for the lightwood family (like trying her best to not divorce her cheating husband? hello?) obviously jia won’t be subject to blatant misogyny anymore--because it’s all swept under the rug! it still happens, but it’s very passive aggressive.
if sexism died out and women had children with random men, this wouldn’t be considered carrying on the family name. shadowhunters are very traditional, which is explained many many times. they expect marriage first. those children would be considered illegitimate and would never be treated as real shadowhunters. also i’m not really sure what’s op’s "homophobia can't exist without sexism" comment had to do w their point there, but i think they were just frustrated.
maryse not teaching izzy to cook to avoid her being shoved into gender roles doesn’t mean she can’t be homophobic lol. enough said
for the valentine/clary point, see my point #1 again ig. it’s a cultural thing. also just because cassie doesn’t touch on the racism doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. it’s not like she blatantly says it doesn’t exist at all. she’s a white woman. considering its existence doesn’t come intuitively to her.
tda is told from the perspective of people who are close friends w the blackthorns. if there’s homophobia and other stuff, the narrators would never actively participate in it. cassie just chose not to have an outside character engage w them about it.
mark grew up afraid for his life dude. he grew up in the wild hunt, where faeries heavily enforce gender roles. ofc he’s going to think a girl and a boy being friends is weird. plus it probably doesn’t help that emma and julian get it on at some point lmao. idk what cc was on w dane larksoear but sometimes authors just assign negative traits to villains. that’s not to say that’s a good thing, but it is what it is.
being faeries doesn’t...erase gender. i literally do not know what else to say. faeries aren’t just all nonbinary or something. if op’s saying this because they’re downworlders, then why doesn’t this apply to all the other downworlders? and like, being bisexual doesn’t erase sexism or gender roles either. no sexual orientation does. that’s kind of common sense imo. plus trying to strip the downworlders of gender is somewhat dehumanizing in my opinion, since it’s not like they’re actively identifying as being nonbinary. it’s like trying to turn people into a group of “its.” this is especially harmful when you consider how many downworlders are poc, and just plain erasing cassie’s choice to give them human traits and personalities (as she could’ve just chosen to make them beasts without human emotions when originally making the shadow world, but actively chose not to).
overall, i like that op’s giving it lots of thought bc this was definitely a new take i’ve never seen before, and i like hearing new opinions, but i think op could benefit from considering that not everything is a dichotomy.
thanks for the ask!! i hope these answers are to ur satisfaction <3
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A Compromise | Ao3.
When Jace suggested they should move to Idris and Raphael whole heartedly disagreed, Simon knew he was bound to be stuck in the middle of the argument until they came to a solution that they all liked - though Simon couldn't possibly think of one that would please them all. Thankfully, Jace came up with something.
Simon/Raphael/Jace, no warnings. Written for the Hunter’s Moon Discord Server Valentine’s Day Event.
Moving to Idris had been a hard choice for Jace, Simon and Raphael and one that had involved many late nights, discussing the pros and cons of doing so - with Raphael mostly posing cons and Jace mostly posing pros while Simon tried futility to help them come to any kind of a conclusion on the subject.
With Alec being the new Consul and the downworlders suddenly being allowed in Idris, Jace wanted them to go. Alec and Magnus had moved to the city, as well as Izzy and most of the people that Jace and Simon cared about in New York. Jace wanted to be with them and he was only emboldened by the fact that Simon didn’t think it was a bad idea either, though Simon tried not to show absolute support considering that Raphael didn’t think it was a good idea at all.
Raphael insisted he wasn’t against the idea of moving to Idris in and of itself but it was being surrounded by shadowhunters every single day that he found issue with. Simon couldn't really fault him for that. He was probably more comfortable around shadowhunters than any other vampire, considering he had been one before being turned, but even he had to admit that moving to a place so full of them would feel a little uncomfortable.
Honestly, part of Simon was torn. He’d always loved Idris. It was a beautiful country that Simon had so many fond memories of but Simon hadn’t been allowed back since he was turned. The thought of being able to go and make Idris into a home again, especially with the people he loved, was appealing but it seemed too good to be true.
Simon was not a shadowhunter anymore and even with all the changes Alec was making, Idris would not exactly feel like home again, even though Simon wished it would be that easy. Even when Simon walked into the New York Institute, the building he’d live in for most of his life, he was always aware that he was an outsider now and that the shadowhunters were watching him out of the corner of their eyes. He couldn’t even imagine how Raphael must feel, having no connection to the shadowhunters at all, having no connection to Idris but being asked to move there.
Alec had already offered Raphael the position to be the representative for the Vampires, if he wanted it and that did seem to entice Raphael a little but Raphael was never completely on board with working to make the world a better place with the shadowhunters. He wanted that of course but even as much as he’d grown to respect Alec, he stated he was rather sick of putting in the work to undo what the shadowhunters had done in the first place - which ruffled Jace’s feathers a little bit even though Simon understood what Raphael meant.
It was just at the point that Simon really thought that they’d never come to any kind of agreement about it, that Jace barged into the Hotel Dumort, more specifically into Raphael and Simon’s (and pretty much Jace’s, if Simon was being honest) room, instantly speaking with an intensity that made both his vampire boyfriends still and turn to look at him.
“We’re going to look at a house,” he snapped.
Raphael blinked slowly. “A house?” He echoed, sounding none too impressed.
“You don’t want to live in Alicante. I get that. Too many shadowhunters, who likes them anyway but I found a house.” Jace paused for a moment, as if he had fully expressed his idea, which he had not. “It’s in Idris but it’s not in Alicante,” Jace continued finally, when Raphael still failed to look impressed by his idea. It was clear Jace thought the city of Alicante was the problem and not Idris itself. Simon wasn’t exactly sure how Raphael would feel about that. “It’s secluded and nice and not in Alicante, did I mention that?”
Simon was pretty sure Jace was speaking to Raphael but Simon answered anyway, “You did mention that once or twice.”
Jace merely nodded, hardly even glancing in Simon’s direction. Simon would be offended but he understood that he wasn’t exactly the person who needed convincing here. “Good, I’ll say it one more time for good measure: It’s not in Alicante.” Jace paused, waiting for a response from Raphael which yet again, failed to come.
“I know you’ve been thinking about taking Alec’s job offer. You don’t want to live in Alicante. We’re going to look at this house. You can hate it but we’re going to look and you’re going to come and you’re not going to complain about it until you see it, okay?”
Raphael stayed still for a long moment before he rolled his eyes and nodded. “Fine.”
Jace practically leapt in the air before he was turning to Simon, rambling, “It’s so nice, Si.” Jace moved forward, wrapping his arms around Simon’s shoulders to tug him backwards until they were both lying sprawled on the bed together. “It’s made of this nice rock and it has pretty vines outside and these cool windows-”
“It sounds unkempt,” Raphael commented mildly.
“No complaining until you see it!” Jace snapped, lifting his head to glare at Raphael from across the bed.
Again, Raphael rolled his eyes and after a moment, Jace launched back into his description.
.
Three days later they did in fact go to see this house Jace had found and when they portaled to the outside of it, Simon had to admit that it did look rather pretty. It was on the outskirts of the country with no one around for miles, deep in the woods. The house had been abandoned for a few decades and it looked it but all the windows were intact and overall, it looked more overgrown than decrepit.
It was pretty but undoubtedly shadowhunter architecture. It reminded Simon of a tiny, less overbearing institute with its stone arches and gothic exterior. Simon liked it but he glanced sideways to Raphael, who was looking at the building with a pointedly blank expression on his face.
“It looks cold,” he commented at last.
Instantly, Jace was speaking, “It has a wooden fireplace and you’re dead.”
Raphael's gaze sharpened into a glare. “I meant it looks cold for you.”
Jace jumped to point to a rune on his arm. “Shadowhunter and wooden fireplace! Come look inside, I’ll show you.”
Raphael had a look on his face like he was trying to hold back a groan but he followed Jace towards the door without another word.
“It’s pretty,” Simon stated, which earned him a soft glare from Raphael and a grin from Jace.
.
The inside of the house was surprisingly more charming than the outside. Though everything had a fine layer of dust over it, you wouldn’t be able to tell otherwise that the building had sat unused for so long. Everything was still intact and with the pale moonlight drifting in the windows, lighting all the fine dust in pale hues, Simon had to admit that it had a certain kind of charm to it.
“You’re going to get sick breathing all that in,” Raphael said gruffly before looking to Simon, snapping, “Don’t breathe.”
Jace rolled his eyes, “I’m not going to get sick.”
“There’s probably lead in here,” Raphael continued.
“There is not. It’s all stone anyway.”
Quietly, Raphael huffed. “Don’t step on any nails,” he grumbled, following behind Jace with his arms crossed. “This place is a death trap.”
“Thankfully, two out of the three of us are already dead,” Jace quipped back, something that Raphael didn’t look too reassured by.
Simon grabbed Raphael’s tense arm, squeezing it softly. “I think it would look cute, without all the dust and with some actual furniture inside.”
Raphael gave a soft hum and said nothing more but his arm relaxed under Simon’s touch as they followed Jace towards the bedroom, listening as Jace pointed and explained how the house would look with all of their things in it.
Raphael didn’t seem to have much else to say because he stayed silent through the rest of Jace’s ramblings, bearing them without comment.
.
“You hate it,” Jace accused once they’d finished with the unofficial tour.
“I don’t hate it.” Raphael said simply, despite not murmuring a single good word about the house since they stepped inside.
“Then what?” Jace asked, frowning in Raphael’s direction and waiting patiently for their grumpy boyfriend to finally decide to express himself.
When Raphael realized Jace wasn’t planning on moving on without him answering and Simon wasn’t planning on speaking either, he rolled his eyes again. “I just think you're going to regret it,” he snapped, not making eye contact with either of them.
For a moment, Jace stammered. Even Simon was surprised by that answer.
“Why would he regret it?” Simon asked quietly.
Again, Raphael rolled his eyes, seeming aggravated that they were pressing him on it. Simon knew Raphael acted like that when he was trying to avoid answering but Simon and Jace had both learned if they just stayed quiet, he’d be forced to express himself one way or another. “We’re vampires,” Raphael explained, something that Simon wasn’t exactly surprised by. “We should live in places like this, far away from everyone else but Jace isn’t. Jace likes people. Jace likes his siblings. Jace likes Alicante.”
Raphael turned to look to Jace, glaring softly. “You’re going to regret moving all the way out here and you’re going to resent me for not wanting to live in your city.”
For a second, no one spoke. Jace opened his mouth and then closed it before he finally opened it again. “What?” He snapped. “Why would I have brought you all the way out here to look at the house if I didn’t want to live here with you?”
Raphael said nothing and after a beat, Jace kept speaking. “I don’t care about Alicante. I want to live with both of you and this place is nice. I don’t care that it’s isolated. We can grow herbs outside and there’s enough room for Simon to make music and we can decorate and make it look less-” Jace waved his arms vaguely. “-shadowhuntery.” Jace blinked a few times but when Raphael simply stared, he kept speaking, his voice a little softer now. “Why would you think I’d regret that? Living with both of you is all I’ve ever wanted and this place is so nice. I thought you’d like it, after you saw it.”
Raphael blinked for another few seconds before he glanced around the house once again, his expression softening just a little. “It is kind of nice,” he mumbled at last. “Can we even get electricity out here?” He asked, which was as much of an approval as Jace and Simon were bound to get. Anything but a ‘no’ from Raphael was undoubtedly a ‘yes’.
“Yes, we can!” Jace said, grinning. He glanced to Simon, his expression suddenly immensely excited and pleading. “Simon?”
Simon laughed softly. “Of course, I love it.”
Jace let out a soft cheer before he was turning towards the kitchen, going on about how they’d ask Magnus for a portal so they could move what they needed for the night.
Raphael rolled his eyes again but now, Simon could see a small smile on his face that he was clearly trying to keep down. “We’re going to spend Valentine's Day in an empty creepy house?” Raphael asked.
For a second, Simon blinked, reminded suddenly that tomorrow was in fact Valentine's Day.
Jace turned around to look back at both of them with a grin. “No, we’re going to spend Valentine’s Day in our empty creepy house.”
Originally, Simon had planned that he and his boyfriends would spend Valentine’s Day at the hotel. He’d hoped they’d have a movie night and spend the evening cuddling but… clearing out the thick layer of dust that was covering every inch of their new home sounded kind of nice too.
With the assurance that Jace wouldn’t resent them for making him move to the middle of nowhere, Raphael seemed far more interested in the entire concept. He wanted them to replace everything in the kitchen, so he could cook for Jace with appliances that weren’t a hundred years old. He liked Jace’s idea of growing their own herbs. He decided to keep Alec hanging for a few extra days before he finally admitted that he’d take the position he was offered but even that, he suddenly seemed much more excited for.
Simon himself was told he could help teach at the academy if he wanted. They were looking for more downworlders to help teach the classes about downworlders and though that did seem kind of fun, Simon decided to spend some time at home, at their new home.
He and Jace were going to redo the wood floor all by themselves. Simon wasn’t too sure how it would come out, considering that neither of them knew how to lay a floor down but it seemed like a fun thing to do with Jace while Raphael was working.
Overall, that first day of cleaning wasn’t exactly how Simon had envisioned spending Valentine’s Day but it was a rather nice way to spend the day. Simon wasn’t exactly sure how ready he was to jump into Shadowhunter affairs again but living in Idris in an adorable house with his boyfriends was a lovely start and even Raphael seemed much more at ease having to interact with the shadowhunters, when he could come home and avoid every single one of them, except the one they lived with.
To Simon, it felt like a promise for the future that no matter how different they all were, they’d carve out a place for them all to exist together. It wasn’t Alicante but it was close enough. It wasn’t away from the shadowhunters entirely but it was far enough away that Raphael did not feel uncomfortable and Simon did not feel torn between his old life as one of them and his new one, as a vampire.
Jace himself? Well, Jace was just excited they liked it and when they were all so tired that they couldn’t clean any longer, they curled up together on a bundle of blankets they brought. Jace had sipped a glass of wine, while Simon and Raphael drank blood. They snuggled on the cold ground in the silence of their empty home that still did not have electricity in and Simon found that he couldn’t have imagined a better way to spend Valentine’s Day, even as unconventional as it was.
Simon loved them both so much. He thought it was rather obvious that they loved each other based on the fact that they made such a big choice like moving in together but for now, Simon kept that thought to himself anyway. Saying it for the first time on Valentine's Day was romantic but Simon thought if he said it while they were already doing so much, he might really just scare Raphael away for good.
Simon didn’t say it, not that night but he curled into Raphael’s shoulder and clutched Jace’s warm arm close and he thought it hoping they’d feel it somehow.
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NOVEMBER’s Chain of Gold Flash Fiction by Cassandra Clare
A Lightwood Christmas Carol, Part 1
LONDON, 1889
Will Herondale was full of Christmas spirit, and Gideon Lightwood found it very annoying.
It wasn’t just Will, actually; he and his wife Tessa had both been raised in mundane circumstances until they were nearly adults, and so their memories of Christmas were of fond family memories and childhood delights. They came alive with it when the city of London did, as it did every year.
Gideon’s memories of Christmas were mostly about overcrowded streets, overrich food, and over-inebriated mundane carolers who needed to be saved from London’s more dangerous elements as they caroused all night, believing all trouble and wickedness was gone from the world right up until they were eaten by Kapre demons disguised as Christmas trees. Just for example.
Born and raised a Shadowhunter, Gideon, of course, did not celebrate Christmas, and had always borne London’s obsession with the holiday with bemused indifference. He had resided in Idris for most of his adult life, where the winter had a kind of Alpine profundity, and there was nary a Christmas wreath or cracker to be found. Winter in Idris felt more solemn than Christmas, so much older than Christmas. It was a strange facet of Idris: where most Shadowhunters ended up celebrating the holidays of their local mundanes, at least the ones that spilled out into street decorations and public festivals, Idris had no holidays at all. Gideon never wondered about this; it seemed obvious to him that Shadowhunters didn’t take days off. It was the blessing and the curse of being one, after all. You were a Shadowhunter all the time.
No wonder some couldn’t bear it, and left for a mundane life. Like Will Herondale’s father Edmund, in fact.
Perhaps that was why Will’s Christmas spirit annoyed him so. He’d come to like Will Herondale, and consider him a good friend. He hoped that when their children were older they too would become friends, if Thomas was all right by then. And he knew Will deliberately presented himself as silly and rather daft, but that he was a sharp and observant Institute head, and a more-than-capable fighter of demons.
But when Will insisted on taking them all to see the window displays at Selfridge’s, he could not help but worry that perhaps Will had a fundamentally unserious mind after all.
“Oxford Street? Days before Christmas? Are you mad?”
“It will be a lark!” Will said, with the slight lilt into his Welsh accent that meant he was a little too excited for his own good. “I’ll take James, you take Thomas, we’ll have a stroll. Have a drink at the Devil on the way back, what?” He clapped Gideon on the back.
It had been a long time since Gideon was last in England. As one of the Consul’s most trusted advisors, Gideon not only lived in Idris but rarely found opportunity to leave. He also remained so that his son Thomas could breathe the healthy air of Brocelind Forest, and not the air of this filthy, foggy city.
This filthy, foggy city, his father’s voice echoed in his mind, and Gideon was too weary to silence his father’s voice as he usually did whenever Benedict crept in. More than ten years dead, yet he had not shut up.
His brother Gabriel lived in Idris, too, and for less obvious reasons. Perhaps it was not only the bad air; perhaps they both were happier with a good distance between them and Benedict Lightwood’s house. And the knowledge that its current resident would barely speak with either of them.
But now Gideon had come to London, with Thomas, just the two of them, leaving Sophie and the girls behind. He needed advice about Thomas, people with whom he could discuss the problem discreetly. He needed to talk to Will and Tessa Herondale, and he needed to talk to a very specific Silent Brother who was often found in their vicinity.
Just now he was wondering if that had been a good idea. “A good bracing walk” was exactly the kind of English nonsense he’d half-expected Will to suggest for Thomas, but “a good bracing walk down the most crowded shopping street in London three days before Christmas” was a level of nonsense he had not been prepared for. “I can’t take Thomas through that crowd,” he said to Will. “He’ll get knocked around.”
“He isn’t going to get knocked around,” said Will scornfully. “He’ll be fine.”
“Besides,” said Gideon, “we’ll get looks. Mundane fathers don’t usually walk their babies in prams, you know.”
“I shall carry my son upon my shoulders,” said Will, “and you carry yours on yours, and Angel protect anyone who complains about it. Fresh London air would do all of us some good. And the windows are meant to be a spectacle, this year.”
“Fresh London air,” said Gideon dryly, “is thick as molasses and the color of pea soup.” But he acquiesced.
He had left Thomas in the nursery, where Tessa kept a watch over him and James. A full year older than James, Thomas wasn’t always good at understanding what James could and couldn’t do or understand. Tessa had been concerned that James would end up hurt. Gideon, though, was more concerned about Thomas, who was still smaller than James, despite the difference in their ages. He was paler than James, too, and less sturdy. He had only recently recovered from the latest of his terrible fevers, which had brought a Silent Brother, unfamiliar to them, to their house in Alicante to examine him. After a time the Silent Brother declared that Thomas would recover, and left without any further conversation.
But Gideon wanted answers. As he picked up Thomas now, he couldn’t help but think about how the boy was hardly any weight at all. He was the smallest of all “the boys,” as Gideon thought of them – of James, and his brother’s son Christopher, and Charlotte’s son Matthew. He had been born early, and small. They had been terrified the first time he caught fever, convinced it was the end.
Thomas hadn’t died, but he hadn’t fully recovered either. He remained delicate, weak of constitution, quick to illness. Sophie had fought harder than anyone to drink from the Mortal Cup and become a Shadowhunter, but now she was forced to fight a far worse battle against death by their son’s bedside. Over and over again.
Sighing, he took his son to fetch their coats for their bracing Christmas walk.
As expected, Oxford Street was a madhouse of pedestrian shoppers, carriages, gawkers, and menacing groups of roaming carolers. Gideon would just as soon have glamoured them all invisible from mundane eyes (although one of the groups of carolers were obviously werewolves, who had exchanged Acknowledging Looks with Gideon), but Will of course wished to bask in the experience.
James also seemed mostly intrigued by the noise and lights, giggling and yelping at the merry scene around them. A London boy from birth, thought Gideon, and then thought, well, but I was a London boy from birth, and this is too much commotion for my liking. For his own part, Thomas was quiet, watching with wide eyes, clutching onto his father’s shoulders. Gideon wasn’t sure how weakened Thomas still was from the last fever and how much he was overwhelmed by the crowds. In some ways, when he wasn’t sick, Thomas could be guilt-inducingly easy to care of; he rarely made a fuss, just looked out into the world with those large hazel eyes, as if aware of his own helplessness and hoping not to be noticed.
Will waited until after they had already joined the crowds at the windows of Selfridge’s and Will had made a number of nonsensical exclamations of delight of the “By Jove!” variety. He had held James right up to the glass to examine the scenes in detail, which seemed to revolve around some blond children ice skating on a river. Gideon had pointed things out to Thomas, who had smiled.
Only once they had stopped to purchase some hot cider from a man hawking it down a side street did Will say, “I heard about Tatiana’s son Jesse. Dreadful business. Have you spoken to her?”
Gideon shook his head. “I haven’t spoken to Tatiana in nearly ten years, or been back to the house.”
Will made a sympathetic noise.
“I don’t think it’s a coincidence,” said Gabriel.
“What?” Will said.
“A coincidence,” said Gabriel. “That both her and I have children who are—sickly.”
“Gideon,” said Will reasonably, “forgive me for saying so, but that is a load of codswallop.” Gideon blinked at him. “For one thing, you have your beautiful daughters, neither of whom were more than usually ill when they were babies. For another, all of what happened to your father was his own doing, and happened long after you were born, and neither you or Gabriel were sickly.”
Gideon shook his head. Will was so kind, so eager to spare him the consequences of his family’s sins. “You don’t know the extent of it,” he said. “The extent of Benedict’s experiments with dark magic. They were ongoing, from as long as I can remember. The demon pox just sticks in the memory, because it is rather lurid.”
“And also we were there,” said Will, “when he turned into a giant worm.”
“Also that,” said Gideon grimly. “But two sickly sons, small and frail—I cannot say with certainty that it is a coincidence, that it has nothing to do with the depredations of my father. I cannot risk the possibility.” He looked at Will imploringly. “It took Jesse years to become ill,” he said, “and Thomas has been ill so much already.”
There was a profound silence. Quietly, Will said, “You sound as if you mean to do something.”
“I do,” said Gideon with a sigh. “I must look at my father’s papers, his records of what he called his “work”. They are at Chiswick, and I must go and ask Tatiana for them.”
“Will she see you?” said Will.
Gideon shook his head again. “I don’t know. I hoped her anger would cool, over time, and her resentment. I hoped the fact that the Clave gifted her with all my father’s wealth and possessions would help her find peace.”
“Well,” said Will, “if you go, you absolutely must leave Thomas with us.”
“You wouldn’t want him to meet his aunt?” Gideon said innocently.
Will looked at him seriously. “I wouldn’t want him, or any of my children, on the grounds of that house!”
Gideon was taken aback. “Why? What’s she done to it?”
Will said darkly, “It’s what she hasn’t done.”
Gideon could see Will’s point. Tatiana hadn’t done anything to the house. Nothing to change, or clean, or preserve it in any way. Rather than restoring it or redecorating it to her own tastes, Tatiana had simply allowed it to rot, blackening and collapsing in on itself, a ghastly monument to Benedict Lightwood’s ruination. The windows were clouded, as though fog were seething indoors; the maze, a black and twisted wreckage. When he opened the front gate, the hinges screamed like a tortured soul.
It did not bode well for the emotional state of its resident.
When Benedict Lightwood died in disgrace from the late stages of demon pox, and the full history of his infamy was revealed to the Clave, Gideon laid low. He didn’t want to answer questions, or hear false sympathy for the damage done to his family name. He shouldn’t have cared. He’d known the truth of his father already. Yet it stung his pride, when he shouldn’t have had any pride left in his besmirched name.
The houses and the fortune were taken away from Benedict’s children by order of the Clave. Gideon could still remember when he had found out that Tatiana had brought a complaint against him and against Gabriel for the “murder” of their father. The Clave had first confiscated their possessions, and finally laid out the situation: Tatiana Blackthorn had petitioned the Clave for Benedict’s fortune to be given to her, as well as the Lightwood’s ancestral house in Chiswick. She was a Blackthorn now, not the bearer of a tainted name. She made many accusations against her brothers in the process. The Clave said they understood that Gideon and Gabriel had had no choice but to slay the monster their father had become, yet if they were to speak of technical truth only, Tatiana might be considered correct. The Clave was inclined to give Tatiana the full Lightwood inheritance, in hopes of settling the matter.
“I will fight this,” Charlotte had told Gideon, her small hands tight upon his sleeve and her mouth set.
“Charlotte, don’t,” Gideon begged. “You have so many other battles to fight. Gabriel and I don’t need any of that tainted money. This doesn’t matter.”
The money hadn’t mattered, then.
Gabriel and Gideon discussed the matter, and decided not to contest her claims. Their sister was a widow. She could live in the former Lightwood manor at Chiswick in England, and at Blackthorn Manor in Idris, and welcome. Gideon hoped she and her son would be happy. As it was, Gideon’s memories of the house were, at best, ambivalent.
Now he waited at the front door, its paint mostly peeled off, with deep gouges here and there, as though some wild animal had tried to get in. Maybe Tatiana locked herself out at some point. After a time it swung open, but waiting behind it was not his sister but a ten year old boy, looking somber. He had the midnight black hair of the father he’d never met, but he was tall for his age, willow-thin, with green eyes.
Gideon blinked. “You must be Jesse.”
The boy narrowed his eyes. “Yes,” said the boy. “Jesse Blackthorn. Who are you?”
Jesse, his nephew, after all this time. Gideon had asked so many times to see Jesse when he was a child. He and Gabriel had tried to go to Tatiana when she had the child, but she turned them both away.
Gideon took a deep breath. “Well,” he said. “I’m your Uncle Gideon, as it happens. I am very glad to make your acquaintance at last.” He smiled. “I was always hoping for it.”
Jesse’s expression did not improve. “Mama says you are a very wicked man.”
“Your mother and I,” Gideon said with a sigh, “have had a very…complicated history. But family should know one another, and fellow Shadowhunters, as well.”
The boy continued to stare at Gideon, but his face softened a bit. “I have never met any other Shadowhunters,” he said. “Other than Mama.”
Gideon had thought about this moment many times, but now found himself struggling for words. “You are…you see…I wanted to tell you. We have heard that your mother doesn’t want you to take Marks. You should know…we are family first, always. And if you don’t wish to take Marks, the rest of your family will support you in that decision. With the—the other Shadowhunters.” He wasn’t sure if Jesse even knew the word Clave.
Jesse looked alarmed. “No! I will. I want to! I’m a Shadowhunter.”
“So is your mother,” murmured Gideon. He felt a slight twinge of possibility there. Tatiana could have disappeared like Edmund Herondale, abandoned Downworld entirely, lived as a mundane. Shadowhunters did, sometimes; though Edmund had done it for love, Tatiana might do it out of hatred. That she had not gave Gideon hope, although, he was sure, foolish hope.
He knelt down, to be closer to the boy. He hesitated, then reached out for Jesse’s shoulder. Jesse stepped back, casually avoiding the touch, and Gideon let it go. “You are one of us,” he said quietly.
“Jesse!” Tatiana’s voice came from the top of the entrance stairs. “Get away from that man!”
As if prodded with a needle, Jesse leapt away from Gideon’s reach and retreated without a further word into the shadowed recesses of the house.
Gideon stared in horror as his sister Tatiana drifted down the stairs. She wore a pink gown more than ten years old. It was stained with blood he well knew was more than ten years old as well. Her face was drawn and pinched, as though her scowl had been etched there, unchanged for years.
Oh, Tatiana. Gideon was flooded with a strange amalgamation of sympathy and revulsion. This is long past grief. This is madness.
His little sister’s green eyes rested on him, cold as if he were a stranger. Her smile was a knife.
“As you can see, Gideon,” she said. “I dress for company. You never know who might drop by.”
Her voice, too, was changed: rough and creaking with disuse.
“Have you come to apologize?” Tatiana went on. “You will not find exoneration, for the things you have done. Their blood is on your hands. My father. My husband. Your hands, and your brother’s hands.”
And how was that? Gideon wanted to ask her. He had not killed her husband. Their father had done that, transformed by disease into a dreadful demonic creature.
But Gideon felt the shame and the guilt, as well as the grief, as he knew she intended him to. He had been the first to cut ties with his father, and with his father’s legacy. Benedict had taught them all to stick together, no matter what the cost, and Gideon had walked away. His brother had stayed, until he saw proof of their father’s corruption he couldn’t deny.
His sister remained even now.
“I am sorry you blame us,” said Gideon. “Gabriel and I have only ever wished for your good. Have you—have you read our letters?”
“I never was fond of reading,” murmured Tatiana.
She inclined her head, and after a moment Gideon realized this was the closest she would get to inviting him in. He stepped across the threshold nervously and, when Tatiana did not immediately shout at him, he continued inside.
Tatiana led him to what had once been their father’s office, a sculpture in dust and rot. He averted his eyes from the torn wallpaper, catching a glimpse of writing on the wall that read WITHOUT PITY.
“Thank you for seeing me,” Gideon said as he took a seat across the desk from her. “How is Jesse?”
“He is very delicate,” said Tatiana. “Nephilim like yourself wish to put Marks on him, because they are intent on killing my boy as they have killed everyone else I love. You sit on the Council, do you not? Then you are his enemy. You may not see him.”
“I would not force Marks on the boy,” protested Gideon. “He’s my nephew. Tatiana, if he is that ill, perhaps he should see the Silent Brothers? One of them is a close friend, and could come to Jesse at our house. And Jesse could know his cousins.”
“Mind your own house, Gideon,” Tatiana snapped. “Nobody expects your son to live to Jesse’s age, do they?”
Gideon fell silent.
“I expect you want Jesse to marry one of your penniless daughters,” Tatiana went on.
Now Gideon was more confused than offended. “His first cousins? Tatiana, they are all very young children—”
“Father planned alliances for us, when we were children.” Tatiana shrugged. “How ashamed he would be of you. How is your grubby servant?”
Gideon would have struck any man who spoke of Sophie so. He felt the rage and violence he’d known as a child storm within him, but he’d desperately taught himself control. He exercised every bit of that control now. This was for Thomas.
“My wife Sophia is very well.”
His sister nodded, almost pleasantly, but the smile quickly became a grimace. “Enough pleasantries, then. You came to Chiswick for a reason, did you not? Out with it. I know what it is already. Your son is like to die, and you want money for filthy Downworlder remedies. You’re here as a beggar, cap in hand. So beg me.”
It was strange: Tatiana’s obvious, undeniable insanity made her insults and imprecations undeniably easier to bear. What was she even saying? What Downworlder remedies? How could remedies be filthy?
Had Benedict destroyed Tatiana as well? Or would she always have been like this? Their mother had killed herself because their father passed on a demon’s disease to her. Their father had died of the same sickness, in disgrace and horror. Will Herondale could dismiss it all as nonsense, but could it be a coincidence that Tatiana’s son, and his son, were both sickly? Or was it some weakness in their very blood, some punishment from the Angel who had seen what the Lightwoods truly were and passed his judgment upon them?
“I need no money,” Gideon said. “As you well know, the Silent Brothers are the best of doctors, and their services are always freely available to me. As they are to you,” he added with emphasis.
“What, then?” Tatiana said. Her head cocked slightly.
“Father’s papers,” Gideon said in a rush of expelled breath. “His journals. I think that the cause of my son’s illness might be found there.” He found he didn’t want to say Thomas’s name in front of his sister, as though she might decide to conjure with it.
“A man you betrayed?” Tatiana spat. “You have no right to them.”
Gideon bowed his head to his sister. He had been prepared for this. “I know,” he lied. “I agree. But I need them, for the sake of my child. You have Jesse. Whatever our differences, you must understand that we could both love our children, at least. You must help me, Tatiana. I beg you.”
He’d thought Tatiana would smile, or laugh cruelly, but she only gazed at him with the impassive, mindless stare of a dangerous snake.
“And what will you do for me?” she said. “If I do help?”
Gideon could guess. Get the Clave to leave her alone, to let her do as she wished with Jesse, for one thing. But in Tatiana’s madness, who knew what she would come up with.
“Anything,” he said hoarsely.
He lifted his head and looked at her, at his mother’s green eyes in his sister’s pitiless face. Tatiana, who would always break her toys rather than share them. There was something missing in her, as there had been in their father.
Now she did smile. “I have just the task in mind,” she said.
Gideon braced himself.
“On the other side of the road from this estate,” Tatiana said, “is a mundane merchant. This man has a dog, of an unusual size and vicious temperament. Quite often he lets the dog run free in the neighborhood, and of course he comes straight here to make mischief.”
There was a long pause. Gideon blinked. “The dog?”
“He is always making trouble on my property,” Tatiana snarled. “Digging up my garden. Killing the songbirds.”
Gideon was utterly positively sure that Tatiana did not keep a garden. He had seen the state of the grounds on his way in, left to crumble as a monument to disaster no less than the house itself.
There were definitely no songbirds.
“He’s made a disaster of the greenhouse,” she went on. “He knocks over fruit trees, he throws rocks through windows.”
“The dog,” Gideon said again, to clarify.
Tatiana fixed her piercing gaze on him. “Kill the dog,” she said. “Bring me the proof you have done this, and you will have your papers.”
There was a very long silence.
Gideon said, “What?”
#the last hours#the shadowhunter chronicles#chain of gold#the infernal devices#tsc#tlh#tid#cassandra clare#will herondale#gideon lightwood#tessa gray
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Let’s talk about The First Heir
I got a lot of asks about the matter, so while I don’t have a concrete theory, sometimes summarizing what we do know helps.
*
One of you asked for a list of people who knows about Kit’s heritage, and I actually think that’s a pretty good place to start with!
Knows for sure:
Jem & Tessa, duh
Magnus
Catarina
Ragnor
Emma
Julian
Barnabas Hale
Probably knows:
Alec - not because of Magnus, actually... he was there when Jem and Tessa heard it from the faerie in The Land I Lost
So was Lily Chen
Jace - we know they will have a familial relationship, and it’s pretty weird to keep him out if Alec already knows.
If Jace knows, and Alec knows, Clary will know.
Hypatia Vex “That’s a lie,” he said. “My father is Johnny Rook.” “And your mother?” said the deep voice of Shade, behind them. A crowd had gathered behind him, too; they couldn’t run that way. “I don’t know,” said Kit, between his teeth. To his surprise, Hypatia raised her eyebrows, as if she knew something he didn’t. (Lord of Shadows)
Mother Hawthorn - We can debate on whether or not she actually followed the line up until Kit, but she knows the gist
The prime suspect to spill the beans is Barnabas, right? He hates Kit in particular. Warlocks have patience, so I’m inclined to believe he will wait up until the best moment, where the truth will be most harmful.
Hypatia is a mystery… we know she doesn’t like shadowhunters (a subject on which COG will probably elaborate) but she’s an ambitious woman who basically wants what’s best for her people. She’ll align herself with Shadowhunters if it’s necessary, but will she also betray them if it is?
Mother Hawthorn is no friend to Shadowhunters and we remember too well how cruel she can be. She cared about Auraline, but not about her decadents. In the very end, where will she align herself?
Lily made me worried for a while because of the Janus favor thing, here’s a theory about it. But I read somewhere that Cassie said Lily probably blocked it out of her memory from lack giving a shit.
I honestly believe none of the rest will tell - not to their families and not to their friends. Emma and Julian probably know everything - they did see Kit using his magic, and we know that they went to visit the Carstairs in Devon. But for the sake of this issue, I don’t think Ty, Dru, or any of the Blackthorns will learn about Kit’s ancestry from Jules or Emma. It would be problematic if Emma would have told Christina, because of her relationship with Kieran, and even though we know both Emma and Christina could keep a secret, I don’t think Emma would risk it - it’s not her secret to tell.
*
Will Ty figure it out before all hell brakes lose?
One of the more burning questions are - did Ty see Kit making the horses disappear? He was on a tree, yes.. but he hit one of the riders with his slingshot - which means he was looking.
In GOTSM, Ty is still hurt. He won’t talk about Kit, and he won’t talk to Kit. When Livvy asked him to write him, he didn't say "I don't want to".. he said, "He won't answer". Which means he's still sure Kit is mad at him, and him staying away is respecting Kit's decision. But Ty is the sort of person that can channel his emotions into actions, into goals, like with Livvy’s death. I find it hard to believe he would refrain from such a mystery for long. At some point, he will probably channel his pain into a relentless chase after the truth. He needs rules, he needs a plan, and he needs a purpose.
Ty is definitely a proud person… that, and the fact that discussing his detachment from Kit would result in questions he doesn’t want to answer - probably means he won’t go asking Emma and Julian about Kit. So who will he ask?
The obvious answer is Ragnor, of course. He sees him all the time at school, he already knows about Livvy, and he’s an extremely old and powerful warlock. But, he won’t ever tell. He’s far too loyal to his friends, and he stands to gain from claiming he’s the one that tricked the riders ;)
The second obvious option is Barnabas. Ty was the one who noticed Hale’s weird remark (“We tolerated you because the Shadowhunters hadn’t found you yet. But now they have and it’s a hop, skip, and a jump until you find out who you really are—” “What’s that supposed to mean?” said Ty.) But will it do him any good to ask? As we know, he hates Blackthorns… and if he knew Ty was searching for that information, he could use it against him.
I did a little reading about faerie magic and warlock magic.. and I actually disagree with one of the anon’s assumptions. I don’t think Kit’s magic “screams” faerie... But when it comes to him seeing through glamour - that’s a clue alright. The Codex specifically says that fairies are considered the masters of glamour magic. It’s not an easy connection to make, but Ty is, as we know - more than capable of getting there.
Ty didn’t know that Kit’s mother was the lost Herondale. Now he has her necklace, which means he knows both of Kit’s parents had shadowhunter blood… but apparently not only. That’s a lead - one parent is a Herondale, one’s origin is unknown. One of them, at least, had more than Shadowhunter blood.
Honestly? I don’t know if Ty will come up with something significant before TWP… because we won’t be there to read about it ;) but I’m almost certain he will try.
*
Who, how and why?
The two we know for a fact that are looking at Kit’s existence are The Seelie Queen and Janus.
The main problem, when it comes to the queen, is the fact that Kit is a Shadowhunter. If it was any other way, I don’t think she would have seen him as such a potential threat… not that she knows who and what he is at the moment. Julian thought she’s not into harming Shadowhunters just for the sake of it, but the end of TDA suggests differently - she wanted the parabatai bonds to be severed so she can weaken the Nephilim. Kit, being the descendant of the first heir and a Shadowhunter is like a spit in the face of everything she and The Unseelie King tried to accomplish with their union - all of that power could be harnessed by the wrong hands.
When it comes to Janus - I am more than sure that the fact that Kit looks like Jace will not be in his favor. I said it a while back - Janus will probably look at Kit and see the past he had, and the future that was stolen from him. The similarity between them will probably be even more pronounced in TWP - and it would be like looking at a broken, twisted mirror. By the time TWP comes, Janus will be even more ruthless - because now he has someone to love. Not just the memory of loving Clary, or even the distance stalking and occasional smooching in some alley. Its Ash - he’s everything to him. He put all of the shattered pieces of his heart in Ash’s hands, and that would clean away every remnant of guilt or empathy that was left in him.
I’m kinda scared just from thinking about it.
#kit herondale#Ty Blackthorn#TWP Theories#twp theory#twp#the wicked powers#Livvy Blackthorn#christopher herondale#tiberius blackthorn#Livia Blackthorn#ash morgenstern#janus#Jace Herondale#Magnus Bane#ragnor fell#catarina loss#barnabas hale#hypatia vex#jem carstairs#tessa gray#seelie queen#julian blackthorn#emma carstairs#lily chen#christina rosales#kieran kingson#tda#the dark artifices#gothsm#ghosts of the shadow market
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Chain of Gold Extra, November: A Lightwood Christmas Carol, Part 1
LONDON, 1889
Will Herondale was full of Christmas spirit, and Gideon Lightwood found it very annoying.
It wasn’t just Will, actually; he and his wife Tessa had both been raised in mundane circumstances until they were nearly adults, and so their memories of Christmas were of fond family memories and childhood delights. They came alive with it when the city of London did, as it did every year.
Gideon’s memories of Christmas were mostly about overcrowded streets, overrich food, and over-inebriated mundane carolers who needed to be saved from London’s more dangerous elements as they caroused all night, believing all trouble and wickedness was gone from the world right up until they were eaten by Kapre demons disguised as Christmas trees. Just for example.
Born and raised a Shadowhunter, Gideon, of course, did not celebrate Christmas, and had always borne London’s obsession with the holiday with bemused indifference. He had resided in Idris for most of his adult life, where the winter had a kind of Alpine profundity, and there was nary a Christmas wreath or cracker to be found. Winter in Idris felt more solemn than Christmas, so much older than Christmas. It was a strange facet of Idris: where most Shadowhunters ended up celebrating the holidays of their local mundanes, at least the ones that spilled out into street decorations and public festivals, Idris had no holidays at all. Gideon never wondered about this; it seemed obvious to him that Shadowhunters didn’t take days off. It was the blessing and the curse of being one, after all. You were a Shadowhunter all the time.
No wonder some couldn’t bear it, and left for a mundane life. Like Will Herondale’s father Edmund, in fact.
Perhaps that was why Will’s Christmas spirit annoyed him so. He’d come to like Will Herondale, and consider him a good friend. He hoped that when their children were older they too would become friends, if Thomas was all right by then. And he knew Will deliberately presented himself as silly and rather daft, but that he was a sharp and observant Institute head, and a more-than-capable fighter of demons.
But when Will insisted on taking them all to see the window displays at Selfridge’s, he could not help but worry that perhaps Will had a fundamentally unserious mind after all.
“Oxford Street? Days before Christmas? Are you mad?”
“It will be a lark!” Will said, with the slight lilt into his Welsh accent that meant he was a little too excited for his own good. “I’ll take James, you take Thomas, we’ll have a stroll. Have a drink at the Devil on the way back, what?” He clapped Gideon on the back.
It had been a long time since Gideon was last in England. As one of the Consul’s most trusted advisors, Gideon not only lived in Idris but rarely found opportunity to leave. He also remained so that his son Thomas could breathe the healthy air of Brocelind Forest, and not the air of this filthy, foggy city.
This filthy, foggy city, his father’s voice echoed in his mind, and Gideon was too weary to silence his father’s voice as he usually did whenever Benedict crept in. More than ten years dead, yet he had not shut up.
His brother Gabriel lived in Idris, too, and for less obvious reasons. Perhaps it was not only the bad air; perhaps they both were happier with a good distance between them and Benedict Lightwood’s house. And the knowledge that its current resident would barely speak with either of them.
But now Gideon had come to London, with Thomas, just the two of them, leaving Sophie and the girls behind. He needed advice about Thomas, people with whom he could discuss the problem discreetly. He needed to talk to Will and Tessa Herondale, and he needed to talk to a very specific Silent Brother who was often found in their vicinity.
Just now he was wondering if that had been a good idea. “A good bracing walk” was exactly the kind of English nonsense he’d half-expected Will to suggest for Thomas, but “a good bracing walk down the most crowded shopping street in London three days before Christmas” was a level of nonsense he had not been prepared for. “I can’t take Thomas through that crowd,” he said to Will. “He’ll get knocked around.”
“He isn’t going to get knocked around,” said Will scornfully. “He’ll be fine.”
“Besides,” said Gideon, “we’ll get looks. Mundane fathers don’t usually walk their babies in prams, you know.”
“I shall carry my son upon my shoulders,” said Will, “and you carry yours on yours, and Angel protect anyone who complains about it. Fresh London air would do all of us some good. And the windows are meant to be a spectacle, this year.”
“Fresh London air,” said Gideon dryly, “is thick as molasses and the color of pea soup.” But he acquiesced.
He had left Thomas in the nursery, where Tessa kept a watch over him and James. A full year older than James, Thomas wasn’t always good at understanding what James could and couldn’t do or understand. Tessa had been concerned that James would end up hurt. Gideon, though, was more concerned about Thomas, who was still smaller than James, despite the difference in their ages. He was paler than James, too, and less sturdy. He had only recently recovered from the latest of his terrible fevers, which had brought a Silent Brother, unfamiliar to them, to their house in Alicante to examine him. After a time the Silent Brother declared that Thomas would recover, and left without any further conversation.
But Gideon wanted answers. As he picked up Thomas now, he couldn’t help but think about how the boy was hardly any weight at all. He was the smallest of all “the boys,” as Gideon thought of them – of James, and his brother’s son Christopher, and Charlotte’s son Matthew. He had been born early, and small. They had been terrified the first time he caught fever, convinced it was the end.
Thomas hadn’t died, but he hadn’t fully recovered either. He remained delicate, weak of constitution, quick to illness. Sophie had fought harder than anyone to drink from the Mortal Cup and become a Shadowhunter, but now she was forced to fight a far worse battle against death by their son’s bedside. Over and over again.
Sighing, he took his son to fetch their coats for their bracing Christmas walk.
#
As expected, Oxford Street was a madhouse of pedestrian shoppers, carriages, gawkers, and menacing groups of roaming carolers. Gideon would just as soon have glamoured them all invisible from mundane eyes (although one of the groups of carolers were obviously werewolves, who had exchanged Acknowledging Looks with Gideon), but Will of course wished to bask in the experience.
James also seemed mostly intrigued by the noise and lights, giggling and yelping at the merry scene around them. A London boy from birth, thought Gideon, and then thought, well, but I was a London boy from birth, and this is too much commotion for my liking. For his own part, Thomas was quiet, watching with wide eyes, clutching onto his father’s shoulders. Gideon wasn’t sure how weakened Thomas still was from the last fever and how much he was overwhelmed by the crowds. In some ways, when he wasn’t sick, Thomas could be guilt-inducingly easy to care of; he rarely made a fuss, just looked out into the world with those large hazel eyes, as if aware of his own helplessness and hoping not to be noticed.
Will waited until after they had already joined the crowds at the windows of Selfridge’s and Will had made a number of nonsensical exclamations of delight of the “By Jove!” variety. He had held James right up to the glass to examine the scenes in detail, which seemed to revolve around some blond children ice skating on a river. Gideon had pointed things out to Thomas, who had smiled.
Only once they had stopped to purchase some hot cider from a man hawking it down a side street did Will say, “I heard about Tatiana’s son Jesse. Dreadful business. Have you spoken to her?”
Gideon shook his head. “I haven’t spoken to Tatiana in nearly ten years, or been back to the house.”
Will made a sympathetic noise.
“I don’t think it’s a coincidence,” said Gideon.
“What?” Will said.
“A coincidence,” said Gideon. “That both her and I have children who are—sickly.”
“Gideon,” said Will reasonably, “forgive me for saying so, but that is a load of codswallop.” Gideon blinked at him. “For one thing, you have your beautiful daughters, neither of whom were more than usually ill when they were babies. For another, all of what happened to your father was his own doing, and happened long after you were born, and neither you or Gabriel were sickly.”
Gideon shook his head. Will was so kind, so eager to spare him the consequences of his family’s sins. “You don’t know the extent of it,” he said. “The extent of Benedict’s experiments with dark magic. They were ongoing, from as long as I can remember. The demon pox just sticks in the memory, because it is rather lurid.”
“And also we were there,” said Will, “when he turned into a giant worm.”
“Also that,” said Gideon grimly. “But two sickly sons, small and frail—I cannot say with certainty that it is a coincidence, that it has nothing to do with the depredations of my father. I cannot risk the possibility.” He looked at Will imploringly. “It took Jesse years to become ill,” he said, “and Thomas has been ill so much already.”
There was a profound silence. Quietly, Will said, “You sound as if you mean to do something.”
“I do,” said Gideon with a sigh. “I must look at my father’s papers, his records of what he called his “work”. They are at Chiswick, and I must go and ask Tatiana for them.”
“Will she see you?” said Will.
Gideon shook his head again. “I don’t know. I hoped her anger would cool, over time, and her resentment. I hoped the fact that the Clave gifted her with all my father’s wealth and possessions would help her find peace.”
“Well,” said Will, “if you go, you absolutely must leave Thomas with us.”
“You wouldn’t want him to meet his aunt?” Gideon said innocently.
Will looked at him seriously. “I wouldn’t want him, or any of my children, on the grounds of that house!”
Gideon was taken aback. “Why? What’s she done to it?”
Will said darkly, “It’s what she hasn’t done.”
#
Gideon could see Will’s point. Tatiana hadn’t done anything to the house. Nothing to change, or clean, or preserve it in any way. Rather than restoring it or redecorating it to her own tastes, Tatiana had simply allowed it to rot, blackening and collapsing in on itself, a ghastly monument to Benedict Lightwood’s ruination. The windows were clouded, as though fog were seething indoors; the maze, a black and twisted wreckage. When he opened the front gate, the hinges screamed like a tortured soul.
It did not bode well for the emotional state of its resident.
When Benedict Lightwood died in disgrace from the late stages of demon pox, and the full history of his infamy was revealed to the Clave, Gideon laid low. He didn’t want to answer questions, or hear false sympathy for the damage done to his family name. He shouldn’t have cared. He’d known the truth of his father already. Yet it stung his pride, when he shouldn’t have had any pride left in his besmirched name.
The houses and the fortune were taken away from Benedict’s children by order of the Clave. Gideon could still remember when he had found out that Tatiana had brought a complaint against him and against Gabriel for the “murder” of their father. The Clave had first confiscated their possessions, and finally laid out the situation: Tatiana Blackthorn had petitioned the Clave for Benedict’s fortune to be given to her, as well as the Lightwood’s ancestral house in Chiswick. She was a Blackthorn now, not the bearer of a tainted name. She made many accusations against her brothers in the process. The Clave said they understood that Gideon and Gabriel had had no choice but to slay the monster their father had become, yet if they were to speak of technical truth only, Tatiana might be considered correct. The Clave was inclined to give Tatiana the full Lightwood inheritance, in hopes of settling the matter.
“I will fight this,” Charlotte had told Gideon, her small hands tight upon his sleeve and her mouth set.
“Charlotte, don’t,” Gideon begged. “You have so many other battles to fight. Gabriel and I don’t need any of that tainted money. This doesn’t matter.”
The money hadn’t mattered, then.
Gabriel and Gideon discussed the matter, and decided not to contest her claims. Their sister was a widow. She could live in the former Lightwood manor at Chiswick in England, and at Blackthorn Manor in Idris, and welcome. Gideon hoped she and her son would be happy. As it was, Gideon’s memories of the house were, at best, ambivalent.
Now he waited at the front door, its paint mostly peeled off, with deep gouges here and there, as though some wild animal had tried to get in. Maybe Tatiana locked herself out at some point. After a time it swung open, but waiting behind it was not his sister but a ten year old boy, looking somber. He had the midnight black hair of the father he’d never met, but he was tall for his age, willow-thin, with green eyes.
Gideon blinked. “You must be Jesse.”
The boy narrowed his eyes. “Yes,” said the boy. “Jesse Blackthorn. Who are you?”
Jesse, his nephew, after all this time. Gideon had asked so many times to see Jesse when he was a child. He and Gabriel had tried to go to Tatiana when she had the child, but she turned them both away.
Gideon took a deep breath. “Well,” he said. “I’m your Uncle Gideon, as it happens. I am very glad to make your acquaintance at last.” He smiled. “I was always hoping for it.”
Jesse’s expression did not improve. “Mama says you are a very wicked man.”
“Your mother and I,” Gideon said with a sigh, “have had a very…complicated history. But family should know one another, and fellow Shadowhunters, as well.”
The boy continued to stare at Gideon, but his face softened a bit. “I have never met any other Shadowhunters,” he said. “Other than Mama.”
Gideon had thought about this moment many times, but now found himself struggling for words. “You are…you see…I wanted to tell you. We have heard that your mother doesn’t want you to take Marks. You should know…we are family first, always. And if you don’t wish to take Marks, the rest of your family will support you in that decision. With the—the other Shadowhunters.” He wasn’t sure if Jesse even knew the word Clave.
Jesse looked alarmed. “No! I will. I want to! I’m a Shadowhunter.”
“So is your mother,” murmured Gideon. He felt a slight twinge of possibility there. Tatiana could have disappeared like Edmund Herondale, abandoned Downworld entirely, lived as a mundane. Shadowhunters did, sometimes; though Edmund had done it for love, Tatiana might do it out of hatred. That she had not gave Gideon hope, although, he was sure, foolish hope.
He knelt down, to be closer to the boy. He hesitated, then reached out for Jesse’s shoulder. Jesse stepped back, casually avoiding the touch, and Gideon let it go. “You are one of us,” he said quietly.
“Jesse!” Tatiana’s voice came from the top of the entrance stairs. “Get away from that man!”
As if prodded with a needle, Jesse leapt away from Gideon’s reach and retreated without a further word into the shadowed recesses of the house.
Gideon stared in horror as his sister Tatiana drifted down the stairs. She wore a pink gown more than ten years old. It was stained with blood he well knew was more than ten years old as well. Her face was drawn and pinched, as though her scowl had been etched there, unchanged for years.
Oh, Tatiana. Gideon was flooded with a strange amalgamation of sympathy and revulsion. This is long past grief. This is madness.
His little sister’s green eyes rested on him, cold as if he were a stranger. Her smile was a knife.
“As you can see, Gideon,” she said. “I dress for company. You never know who might drop by.”
Her voice, too, was changed: rough and creaking with disuse.
“Have you come to apologize?” Tatiana went on. “You will not find exoneration, for the things you have done. Their blood is on your hands. My father. My husband. Your hands, and your brother’s hands.”
And how was that? Gideon wanted to ask her. He had not killed her husband. Their father had done that, transformed by disease into a dreadful demonic creature.
But Gideon felt the shame and the guilt, as well as the grief, as he knew she intended him to. He had been the first to cut ties with his father, and with his father’s legacy. Benedict had taught them all to stick together, no matter what the cost, and Gideon had walked away. His brother had stayed, until he saw proof of their father’s corruption he couldn’t deny.
His sister remained even now.
“I am sorry you blame us,” said Gideon. “Gabriel and I have only ever wished for your good. Have you—have you read our letters?”
“I never was fond of reading,” murmured Tatiana.
She inclined her head, and after a moment Gideon realized this was the closest she would get to inviting him in. He stepped across the threshold nervously and, when Tatiana did not immediately shout at him, he continued inside.
Tatiana led him to what had once been their father’s office, a sculpture in dust and rot. He averted his eyes from the torn wallpaper, catching a glimpse of writing on the wall that read WITHOUT PITY.
“Thank you for seeing me,” Gideon said as he took a seat across the desk from her. “How is Jesse?”
“He is very delicate,” said Tatiana. “Nephilim like yourself wish to put Marks on him, because they are intent on killing my boy as they have killed everyone else I love. You sit on the Council, do you not? Then you are his enemy. You may not see him.”
“I would not force Marks on the boy,” protested Gideon. “He’s my nephew. Tatiana, if he is that ill, perhaps he should see the Silent Brothers? One of them is a close friend, and could come to Jesse at our house. And Jesse could know his cousins.”
“Mind your own house, Gideon,” Tatiana snapped. “Nobody expects your son to live to Jesse’s age, do they?”
Gideon fell silent.
“I expect you want Jesse to marry one of your penniless daughters,” Tatiana went on.
Now Gideon was more confused than offended. “His first cousins? Tatiana, they are all very young children—”
“Father planned alliances for us, when we were children.” Tatiana shrugged. “How ashamed he would be of you. How is your grubby servant?”
Gideon would have struck any man who spoke of Sophie so. He felt the rage and violence he’d known as a child storm within him, but he’d desperately taught himself control. He exercised every bit of that control now. This was for Thomas.
“My wife Sophia is very well.”
His sister nodded, almost pleasantly, but the smile quickly became a grimace. “Enough pleasantries, then. You came to Chiswick for a reason, did you not? Out with it. I know what it is already. Your son is like to die, and you want money for filthy Downworlder remedies. You’re here as a beggar, cap in hand. So beg me.”
It was strange: Tatiana’s obvious, undeniable insanity made her insults and imprecations undeniably easier to bear. What was she even saying? What Downworlder remedies? How could remedies be filthy?
Had Benedict destroyed Tatiana as well? Or would she always have been like this? Their mother had killed herself because their father passed on a demon’s disease to her. Their father had died of the same sickness, in disgrace and horror. Will Herondale could dismiss it all as nonsense, but could it be a coincidence that Tatiana’s son, and his son, were both sickly? Or was it some weakness in their very blood, some punishment from the Angel who had seen what the Lightwoods truly were and passed his judgment upon them?
“I need no money,” Gideon said. “As you well know, the Silent Brothers are the best of doctors, and their services are always freely available to me. As they are to you,” he added with emphasis.
“What, then?” Tatiana said. Her head cocked slightly.
“Father’s papers,” Gideon said in a rush of expelled breath. “His journals. I think that the cause of my son’s illness might be found there.” He found he didn’t want to say Thomas’s name in front of his sister, as though she might decide to conjure with it.
“A man you betrayed?” Tatiana spat. “You have no right to them.”
Gideon bowed his head to his sister. He had been prepared for this. “I know,” he lied. “I agree. But I need them, for the sake of my child. You have Jesse. Whatever our differences, you must understand that we could both love our children, at least. You must help me, Tatiana. I beg you.”
He’d thought Tatiana would smile, or laugh cruelly, but she only gazed at him with the impassive, mindless stare of a dangerous snake.
“And what will you do for me?” she said. “If I do help?”
Gideon could guess. Get the Clave to leave her alone, to let her do as she wished with Jesse, for one thing. But in Tatiana’s madness, who knew what she would come up with.
“Anything,” he said hoarsely.
He lifted his head and looked at her, at his mother’s green eyes in his sister’s pitiless face. Tatiana, who would always break her toys rather than share them. There was something missing in her, as there had been in their father.
Now she did smile. “I have just the task in mind,” she said.
Gideon braced himself.
“On the other side of the road from this estate,” Tatiana said, “is a mundane merchant. This man has a dog, of an unusual size and vicious temperament. Quite often he lets the dog run free in the neighborhood, and of course he comes straight here to make mischief.”
There was a long pause. Gideon blinked. “The dog?”
“He is always making trouble on my property,” Tatiana snarled. “Digging up my garden. Killing the songbirds.”
Gideon was utterly positively sure that Tatiana did not keep a garden. He had seen the state of the grounds on his way in, left to crumble as a monument to disaster no less than the house itself.
There were definitely no songbirds.
“He’s made a disaster of the greenhouse,” she went on. “He knocks over fruit trees, he throws rocks through windows.”
“The dog,” Gideon said again, to clarify.
Tatiana fixed her piercing gaze on him. “Kill the dog,” she said. “Bring me the proof you have done this, and you will have your papers.”
There was a very long silence.
Gideon said, “What?”
#gideon lightwood#tatiana blackthorn#will herondale#jessie blackthorn#thomas lightwood#james herondale#the shadowhunter chronicles#the last hours#the infernal devices#flash fiction
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