Archive of Our Own

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Ty could not stop replaying Kit’s last word in his head “I wish I’d never known you”. He does not even know when Kit’s presence had become such a crucial part of his sanity. Now, alone, without his better half, wallowing in a sea on emotions he cannot and will not even try to describe. However hard he may have tried –and he has, repeatedly—to distract himself by reading, or looking for new animals to take care of or study, he even tried to train with Emma; time and time again, he has come to the same realization, “I’m nothing without her”. And, how could he? Livvy had always been his sun, her presence enough to distract the attention he may have attracted unintentionally, warming him from the inside by her caring, non-judgemental nature, inspiring him to never try to be anyone but himself as, if he was enough for her to love him, that was all he could ever wish to be.

Livvy had been with him through his worse, when even he could not stand how different from everyone else he was, and how there was a whole other world, right before his eyes; that he could see, but never quite grasp. He was astounded at how easy everyone could pick on non-verbal cues, or how effortlessly understanding a phrase seemed to be to everyone else but him. He just could NOT understand why anyone would say something without meaning it. Remembering with disdain Paige’s mocking after going to her house to talk about cars. All through his childhood he learned that everything that made him different meant that everyone else would have a harder time getting to know him, with how averse he was to sudden physical touch, making eye contact and his inherent difficulty to distinguish sarcasm, and metaphors.

This never particularly bothered him as he had his family, and that was all he could ever fathom needing, however boisterous their breakfasts may be, they never forced him to be anyone other than himself, except from Uncle Arthur, but that was beside the point. Not only that, but that had simply been the case ever since his childhood, which is why Kit’s appearance in his life could not have been anymore of a surprise.

Even he could not understand how seamlessly Kit entered his life, especially after how they met. Ty remembered clearly how worried he had been that someone would sneak up on Julian and Emma, and sprung to action as silently as possible, going into Rook’s house and tackling the person he had noticed in the basement; all of those years of training kicking into action and allowing him to pin the stranger to the nearest wall and placing a knife to his throat before the other could even react. Truthfully, he had expected Kit would put up a fight, but he just stared at him with a look that reminded Ty of an animal in a cage, with such untapped potential that, if given the chance, would undoubtedly jump for freedom at any cost.

The look on his face, though, that he could figure out, he was angry; though he could not really understand why. Sure, he had pinned him to a wall, but he had not really harmed him, he just wanted to keep his brother safe. Ty remembered all the cards Julian had prepared for him to help him understand emotions, but he had quickly learned that one could express more than one simultaneously, something that frustrated him immensely. He was very distracted trying to understand and discern if the stranger was a threat when Julian and Emma ran to them because of the raucous caused and forced Ty to release him. This left him feeling incredibly confused as he was trying to help and now everyone appeared to be angry with him, he would have to talk to Livvy to try and understand what had gone wrong with this interaction.

A few weeks went by, the adventure at Johnny Rook’s house had been forgiven, and everything had gone back to normal. This changed, however, with Malcom’s betrayal and death, leading to the attack on Rook’s house, when Kit was forced to go to the institute, a place he clearly hated full of people he had been taught not to trust. Ty could not explain why, but he felt a fierce protective instinct towards him, maybe because he seemed to be as alone as he too sometimes felt, and, after having just lost his father, to be thrust into the unknown is a feeling Ty knows very well. So he decided to camp outside of Kit’s room every night, he did not mean to put pressure on him to open up or let him in, he just wanted him to know that there would always be someone there for him when he needed it.

Even if they did not talk, he could feel a connection between the two that developed into him becoming upset when people started telling Kit to get out of his room and begin his training as if nothing had happened. This fed his protective instincts to the point that he raised his voice and started stepping up for the boy on the other side of the door. On one part, he hoped he could not hear their arguments, but, on the other, he kind of wished he could so that he knew that he had his back and would support his decision to grieve for as long as he had to.

Eventually, Kit opened the door and let him in, they did not really talk, but kept each other company. Ty could tell the other was planning on escaping by the way he always seemed to be checking for the nearest windows or expensive looking stuff lying around the institute that he could sell to aid him on this quest. Ty felt conflicted, he knew Kit did not want to be at the institute, but he really wanted him there, he had become part of his routine, and he hated the thought of it broken. Due to this, he decided to include him in as many activities as he could, trying to assuage the loneliness and hopelessness he could almost feel radiating off him. It did not take long for the three of them to become inseparable, Kit was that missing piece they never knew was missing, and they were happy. Ty began thinking that Kit would never leave and be his Watson forever.

That all changed, of course, when Livvy died in the hands of Annabel. Ty’s refusal to accept his twin’s demise was only natural, a world without the one person you have never been without would obviously be impossible to comprehend for any normal person. And, over the years, Ty prided himself in being different. He fell down a rabbit hole (he finally understood what that meant right there), stressing over how he could bring her back, nothing else mattered. He had thought Kit felt the same, remembering the kiss he saw between them that one time, a twinge in his heart snapping him from that memory. It had not come as a surprise really, Livvy was beautiful, kind and fun, any boy would be lucky to have met her. Ty, however, could not suppress the feeling that, for once, he wanted this person’s attention for himself, and he could not even understand why. He had always shared everything with his sister, even the womb of their mother, so why was this particular person the one thing he wanted all –or most—for himself?

That did not matter however, as Kit would obviously help him bring Livvy back because of whatever feeling they had had for each other. Ty could still not understand why the thought bothered him so much. He felt so selfish, Livvy had always had to sacrifice things for him, a normal social life, friendships, and even parts of her childhood to make sure that Ty was happy. He had always tried his hardest to better himself so that he could repay her for everything she had done, as well as Julian.

But now that could no longer be, if he yielded to what all of them were saying, he would never again get to feel the sense of belonging he felt with her, for how would anything compare to his Livvy? He had been blind to Kit’s reactions whenever he mentioned the ritual or how he had found a new ingredient for the ritual, too excited to be closer to fulfilling his goal, which is why it made absolutely no sense how Kit behaved right when the ritual was taking place. Ty could not help but feel upset, betrayed even. How could he do this now? When they were so close to getting Livvy back? He knew they had been warned of the consequences, but he knew what he was doing. Did Kit not believe in him? Did he think of him as less because he was different? He felt a fury deep inside, begging to be released. He would show Kit just how capable he could be, he would bring Livvy back and everything would go back to normal. Kit, apparently, would not relent and started trying to dissuade him from continuing with the ritual, physically attacking him, and forcing him apart from the circle. Ty felt like fire was running through his veins from anger, how could Kit be doing this to him? Kit would not relent, even if Ty was stronger and better trained, he tried to talk him out of it, but he would not give up on Livvy.

There was no way at the time that he would have known that the reactor would not work, and, when Livvy came back as a ghost, just for a few minutes that time, he begged her to stay, as without her he was nothing. She disappeared and he left, heartbroken at the turn of events. A few hours passed and he concluded that Kit must have feared the consequences of necromancy, and he felt his anger dissipate as he was sure Kit meant well by his actions. He felt as if he had finally formed a friendship strong enough to feel confident about the other’s behavior. That thought wavered as he realized that Kit was angry at him, and he could not understand why, he tried to talk to him, but then he said those dreadful words and Ty felt all those insecurities come to the surface. Everything he had buried in a safe burst at the very seams of however much he had felt he had grown and learned, thanks to Kit and his family. He could not understand what was happening, but he decided he would make sure to figure it out once the battle was finished, once he made sure his family was safe.

Little did he know that that would be the last time he saw Kit, he did not even say goodbye, he just left, and Ty felt his world crumbling down. He wished he could say he was surprised, but truthfully, he was not. Even Livvy, his Livvy, told him she did not wish to be returned from the dead, back to him. And, if the one person who loved him above all else, more than anyone else he had ever known, did not want him anymore, why would Kit choose to stay with him and burden himself with his problems, Kit could definitely find better friends than him.

Kit had such a charismatic personality, almost magnetic, every time he was near, Ty felt unable to stay away from him for long. He was incredibly empathic and kind also, never making him feel bad for being different, even helping him embrace everything that made him special, as Kit would say; remembering the time he asked about how many windows the institute had. Kit deserved better, and he would not stand in his way if he was looking for a better life, even if that meant for him to give up on his Watson. He had heard Kit moved to Devon with Tessa Gray and Jem Carstairs, who still corresponded with Emma regularly, this gnawed at his heartstrings, fueling his desire to know of his former friend whenever he heard murmurs coming from the kitchen when Emma and Julian talked about each letter.

He fell into a pit of despair, that was a phrase he had heard Livvy say repeatedly whenever she was feeling dramatic, and he had never thought he would find himself understanding the concept, until he did. He felt trapped in a house that reminded him of everything he had lost, every corner and crevice held a memory of Livvy or Kit, ones he could no longer recreate without feeling like he was having heart failure –should he go to the doctor? He had been feeling twinges in his heart a lot recently— he could not bare the thought of talking to anyone as he saw nothing but concern in their stance whenever they tried to get him to talk or come out of his room to spend time with them. It soon became too much, and he finally decided that he would go to the Scholomance. Not only did he want to escape the memories and feelings of guilt over his family, but, without Livvy to be his parabatai, what was the point of staying? Kit was no longer there either, and he felt that his family would be much better without the constant reminder of everything that had happened. The three of them had become a staple around the house, a unity. Now, there was only Ty and he could not bare that thought any longer.

It had been relatively easy to get them to understand, Ty had previously stated that he wanted to go there and, it being one of the first times he had talked since the incident, the rest of his family had been unable to deny him anything. Not that he would have relented, he had already filled out the application and everything, having no doubt that with his qualifications he would be accepted, but he had wished for their blessing. The Blackthorns prepared a farewell basket, knowing Ty would not appreciate a party, especially right now. They each put in a gift and a note so that he would know who gave him what, and then, after a quick round of hugs and trying to ignore Julian’s teary eyes, he left.

The first few weeks were weird, with only Livvy by his side, even if he could not talk to her as much as he would have liked considering the fact that people already found him weird enough without seemingly talking to himself in public. Then, he found Irene and everything started looking up for him, he was doing well in his studies and the change of scenery, though disturbing, really allowed him to reflect on his actions and feelings without becoming overwhelmed.  He now understood why Livvy had said what she said and felt bad for doubting of her love for him, and she forgave him as if it had never happened.

While he was relieved, he could not stop thinking that the real Livvy probably would have been upset for longer, and the thought saddened him as her ghost, despite her appearance, could not fill the void Livvy had left with her demise. He still appreciated her company greatly and would not change it for anything, but he could not help but feel guilty whenever he noticed he was everything to her now, no one else could keep her company, and he could not ignore his responsibilities forever, which meant he had to pretend as if there was no ghost of his sister yelling at anyone who even dared to raise his voice at him or mocked him for his inability to look at people in the eye. Even if she could not be seen, Livvy continued to stand up for her twin whenever she could, and it helped Ty to better ignore the comments or actions of everyone else. This became a rare occurrence after a while, as all his classmates learned that Ty was a brilliant student and would often solve their doubts on the classes they were failing. While he was not popular, at all, he did feel like he belonged there. Still, however, he chose not to let anyone get too close as he could not put everything from the past away, always seeing a figure with blond hair and bright blue eyes across the hallways from the corner of his eye, the one that always vanished as he whipped his head to the side to see it properly, feeling the same twinge on his left side that made him feeling restless and a longing so profound that left him exhausted, and anxious to search for the blue and the yellow in his dreams.

This type of event became more and more frequent the longer he tried to keep the feeling inside, he missed Kit, but he knew he was better off without him. So, he decided to talk to Livvy to ask her what all his symptoms meant. Sadly, she provided little to no help as she stared at him, with both eyebrows raised, eyes and mouth open in surprise at everything he had been experiencing. This expression lasted for about a second before it morphed into an amused smile and an arched eyebrow, her only comment being that surely, Kit felt the same heart problems when thinking about him after what he had said to him the night of the ritual. This startled him as he realized that, in his haste to bring Livvy back, he had not paid enough attention and, if he was reading the situation correctly, Kit had said something important. Why couldn’t he remember what it was?

Chapter Text

Kit could not believe it. If anyone had told him a few years ago that he would trade the shadow market or LA for a house full of strangers, however well-meaning they may be, in a completely different continent, and a weather that did nothing for the tan look he preferred, he would have laughed out loud and said something along the lines of “Sure, Jan”. Now, however, he could not imagine life any other way. He had learned a lot from his new family, even calling them that was something you would have had to force him to do in the past, having never felt like anything other than the burden, the one that had to behave or be quiet unless he wanted to be discarded without a second thought. He knew deep inside that those insecurities stemmed from his childhood and were not so fair towards the last family that had taken him in.

The Blackthorns could be quite a chaotic bunch, for sure – especially during pancake day--, but they had let a stranger in, a boy who had just lost his father and gave him a home, a purpose. He would forever be grateful to them for the patience they had with him when he first got to the institute, when he could not overcome his distrust of them, and for letting him become a part of their lives. While he could never really feel like he belonged completely, always feeling behind on his training, knowledge, customs, preferences, you name it; he could always find something that alienated him from them, and he could not fight the instinct that forced him to subdue some parts of his personality in front of them, to silence his rebuttal to the way Shadowhunters considered human procedures and medicines as if they were above it, as if they were not also part mundane.

While he knew that not all of them thought the same, thinking back to the Shadowhunters that voted for Alec Lightwood as the new Consul, which never failed to spark hope in his heart that they were truly the majority and were walking toward a more tolerant and bright future; he could not avoid thinking that there were also people like the Dearborns, so set in their customs, delusions of grandeur, an incredibly twisted idea of the sacred mandate all Shadowhunters upheld, and a complete disregard to the lives and souls of those who were different that they were willing to separate themselves from the whole world; forcing their brothers and sisters away from their homeland, sacrificing the lives of hundreds to ensure that change would never come.

This idea revolted Kit, no one would ever convince him that a life could be worth more than another, for any reason. He knew for a fact that race, sexual orientation, gender, or the presence –or lack thereof-- demon blood did not make a person better than another. Memories of the Shadow Market came to his mind, his childhood could have been way worse had he not met some amazing downworlders that were willing to make sure no harm came to him, a young mundane with the sight –those were the days--, he knew they were not doing it to get on his father’s good graces, as he tried to keep Kit a secret as a way to protect him a little better. Of course, when you lead Johnny Rook’s life, one can never be too careful, not that he was… He pretty much only ignored him, which led to the situations when he needed protecting in the first place as he often found himself too bored after long hours alone in the market. He wasn’t complaining though, thanks to that he learned from early on that having demon blood or a demonic illness did not imply that they were bad, or soulless, they were just like everyone else, trying to go through life with the deck they had been handed and making the best out of it. He wasn’t delusional either, he knew very well what they were capable of as enemies, shuddering as a fleeting memory of everything Malcom had brought upon them just a few years back came to his mind.

The thing is, the same applies for the Shadowhunters, some are exceptional, and some are corrupted; it is what makes them human, one and the same. With this thought he couldn’t help but think about that Tarzan and Kala scene –Mina was obsessed with Disney movies lately, and, admittedly, it was his fault as he was also a big Disney fan--, where they put a hand on each other’s heart and Tarzan realizes that they are the same despite all that makes them different. Much like that, Shadowhunters and Downworlders are all in this together –she also LOVED High School Musical--. He hoped that, with the Alliance, the ones who were not yet convinced would go to the light side of the force –he blamed Simon for that one—and work on a more unified front against the real enemy: demons, bigotry, and Paige Ashdown if you asked him… but you weren’t (he really needed to stop talking to himself in the third person; but, being one of the few teenagers around really made it hard to talk to anyone else).

In all of his years at the market, he had only ever seen the type that thought of themselves as superior, the hero of the story; and Kit, in all his unknowingly Herondale glory, had absolutely made it his mission to mock them at every chance that he could find, be it by making them trip while hiding in the shadows –he might think of himself as a rebel, but he did not wish to die at the hands of a Shadowhunter—or making them get lost by pretending he was in need of help and leading them through to the most complex parts of the market, the ones he had spent countless hours learning while his father was tending to his customers. He thought he hated them. The first time he had met the Blackthorns, he would not have guessed they would become such an important presence in his life; however beautiful some might have been or how difficult it proved to be to stop thinking about that set of gray eyes and raven hair.

Ty had really made an impact in him those first few days, he could not believe that he would be willing to spend days camping outside of his room, and Kit had been so confused, why would he do such a thing? He felt no pressure from him to talk or open the door. He had even heard him snapping at those who wanted him to go train with them as he had been in there for too long. This meant so much to him, more than he would have liked to admit at the time. He had been sure it was just a ploy to get him to take his guard down with him. He was so sure that he even devised a plan to test it, by opening the door and letting him in so that Ty could show his true intentions and get him to go with him to the others. Once again, he surprised him, Ty respected his boundaries and did not even try to get him to talk, he just sat with him in silence and kept him company.

This unsettled him so much that he started acting out just to try and get a reaction out of the boy, anything that would help him understand the other’s intentions better; this backfired spectacularly as it seemed that his antics amused him; and, before he even knew it, he realized that, in every failed attempt to get Ty to crack, he became more and more fascinated by him, to the point that he would go through great lengths to get him to smile and get to know him a little better. He prided himself in the fact that Ty trusted him enough to let him in on his adventures with Livvy, as he could tell how important she was to him, and how exclusive their team seemed to be; feeling a little guilty as he remembered the longing stare Dru shot at them whenever they went off on patrol or to the beach. It did not take long for them to go and do everything together, they fit so well that all the Blackthorns seemed to think of them as a package deal.

While they all got along extremely well, he could tell that the connection he felt with Ty ran deeper than any other. He had assumed it was natural as he had been the first one that he really came to trust and talk from the institute. Not that he and Livvy did not have a good friendship, he had even believed he could like her, agreeing to being her first kiss and all; but he could not help but feel that there was something missing. It all clicked a little too late that the tingling sensation whenever and wherever Ty touched him, the goosebumps that ran through him when Ty whispered to him about their next mission, close enough that he felt himself hold his breath in an attempt to get the moment to last as long as possible; the way his heart skipped a beat when they made eye contact or when he spotted him from across the room; the warm feeling that filled his heart whenever Ty seemed to be searching for him and the shortness of breath that attacked him when he saw the other boy’s face light up and go to him; the way his eyes followed Ty’s every move and found him without even realizing he was looking for him –because that was just his default, something he did not question as he always did--, as well as this all-consuming need to make him happy, the need for validation, and the fear of having him hate him if he were to deny him anything were just side effects of a love that had developed so organically that had swept him off his feet without setting any alarms until it was too late; once Kit was completely head over heels.

This realization could not have come at a worst time as it all made sense when Livvy died, and Kit realized that he could lose Ty forever due to the necromantic ritual he was planning on performing. He had really thought that, with all the ingredients needed, this would not happen and that Ty would eventually relent; he wanted to believe that their hunt would help him process his feelings and realize that he could function without his twin, that they could make it out of this together; but he should have known better than to think he would have given up on Livvy, Ty never failed to surprise him and, unfortunately, he continued to do so when he barged in excitedly to Kit’s room to inform him that he had managed to collect everything for the ritual. Kit could still remember his stomach doing a backflip at the time; his relief over Shade’s refusal to go through with his promise was short-lived as Ty foresaw all possible setbacks, having acquired a reactor while looking for the other ingredients; as frustrated as Kit felt, he could not help but feel a burst of affection for the other boy, it was part of the reasons he liked him so much, he always thought of everything, and, just that once, that proved to be their downfall.

Despite his best efforts, and multiple attempts at fighting Ty off the circle, the ritual was getting dangerously close to being finished; Kit could not stop himself when he noticed Ty’s distress over the situation; he knew he was hurting and confused because, until that point, Kit had not properly stated his doubts about necromancy as the solution for their problems. The only thing he could focus on was that, in that moment, he truly understood how lost and lonely Ty felt without his twin, he could see it in his eyes, misty and unfocused, clearly reminiscing the past they had experienced, wanting to go back to a time when he wasn’t heartbroken over the untimely death of his most beloved sister, plagued by feelings of guilt over not agreeing on becoming her parabatai, unable to overcome the thought that maybe it would have made the outcome different. Kit knew that if he could have, Ty would have given Livvy every last drop of energy she could have needed to survive; Ty knew it too, and it fed the spiraling thoughts and guilt relentlessly, fueled by every single thing that reminded him of her. He could not even find comfort in his family as they too were grieving, and he thought that it was his fault and that this was the only way to fix it.

Ty had not expressed any of this out loud, but Kit had spent so long observing him, that he could not help but pick up on his every reaction. Kit had been so desperate to get Ty to understand that it was not his fault, that no one blamed him, that he was deserving of love, and to get that miserable look from his eye that he could no longer contain the feelings he had been discovering and hiding within him. He tried to put into words everything that had been consuming him from the inside whenever he was near, but, found it to be so overwhelming that he could not put it into more words than “I love you, Ty. I love you, I love you, I love you”.

He paled after his confession, finally snapping back into reality by the sheer panic that coursed through his veins. He had voiced his feelings out loud even if he had not had any indication that Ty felt the same. Sure, he knew he was important to Ty, he even called him his Watson, and that was a pretty big deal as Kit knew how much he cherished the characters and the books. But there was no way he could return his feelings, right? The through paralyzed him, putting him to his knees, waiting for a reaction that never came as Ty simply ignored his words and finished the ritual. He stood there, frozen, he could not believe Ty could disregard his feelings this way; but everything made sense once Livvy showed up as a ghost: “there is nothing without you”.

As heartbroken as he felt, it also confirmed everything he knew, of course Ty would not return his feelings. How could he? Kit was just part of the coward line of the Herondales, he was sarcastic, had no training, and was a troublemaker. He could not stop causing problems, even by accident; the Blackthorns had simply taken pity out of an orphan because they knew what that was like; also because the great Jace Herondale, the greatest Shadowhunter of their generation, and him shared a last name. He felt like an idiot, he felt ashamed for having burdened this family and allowing himself to bring down his walls, he should know better; he had not let anyone in before, not even his father, and now he could not bear the thought of going to the institute and looking at them in the eye. He had disappointed them by not being everything a Herondale was supposed to be, he did not even fear ducks; more importantly, he had failed to protect Ty from himself in a moment of weakness, he was sure they would never forgive him.

He could feel himself on the border of a panic attack so severe he was not even sure he would recover, the spiraling kept his body from fleeing, stuck to the place he was until he realized that he had been staring at the spot where Ty had been begging Livvy to stay; only to realize he was no longer there, the fire kept burning but there was no one but him near the circle. He stood up to leave but noticed that there was still something in the fire, recognizing Livvy’s locket, he quickly retrieved it and went off into the night for a walk.

The next day, he felt every muscle tense when he and Ty were instructed to stay at the campsite. He did not wish to talk about what had happened, not only was he mortified for the rejection, but he knew he would not be able to resist the need to comfort Ty if he were to express the misery he so clearly displayed in his stance. What really drove him over the edge is that Ty seemed as oblivious as ever, not realizing he did not want to talk to him. Was he really that dense? He knew how smart Ty was, so the only explanation he could think of was that he was ignoring his feelings, again. So, he did what he always did when his pride had taken a hit: lash out. He told him how upset he was and how selfish he had been for not thinking about the consequences of his actions, about how he had not foreseen the impact it would have on his family; and Ty looked so confused that the tug on his heartstrings angered him even more.

He regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth, his stomach sinking as he saw how much hurt they had caused. He felt vile rising through his throat and felt like he could not breathe, he was about to apologize, desperate to erase that expression when Livvy showed up and freed them from the restraints that kept them together. Kit could do nothing but escape as it all came tumbling down, he really did not deserve Ty. He deserved this pain, the rejection, everything. Ty had been a beam of light in his darkest moment; and he needed to repay him somehow and his best shot was at trying to keep all of the Blackthorns safe, he did not care at the moment how untrained he was, he would make sure to help them anyway he could. Then, he promised, he would disappear from their life forever so that they could be free of all that Kit represented, this would be his way of redeeming himself and quieting the voices that kept telling him how much of a screw up he was.

Just when he thought the day could not get any worse, the Riders of Mannan showed up, looking for him. That is when he learned of his heritage, not only was he a Herondale, but he was also from the same line that aided the Morgensterns in the battle that costed the seelies their freedom because of the cold peace; and the Unseelie King, the one who was willing to sacrifice his first born because it had not been a boy? Great. No wonder he turned out the way he did. No matter how he may have felt about this, he could not stop the fury that unleashed within him as the riders started making fun of the way they killed his mother. He could not remember her that well, but he was sure that she was the protagonist of the few happy memories he had from his childhood, the singer of the lullabies that he can hear whenever he’s feeling lost and desperate, the ones that helped him sleep in those restless nights and the ones that made him feel loved whenever Johnny had had a bad day in the market and let it out on Kit; they were also the ones he found himself humming distractedly when he was feeling particularly chipper some mornings. He could understand where these feelings where coming from, what he could not understand was what had happened to the riders after the feelings became so much, the heartbreak so great, that he closed his eyes to scream to the top of his lungs. When he opened them, to his immense surprise, the riders where nowhere to be found. He was not complaining, as he would have surely lost, but he had so many questions.

As if summoned by these thoughts, Tessa and Jem appeared and offered him a place to stay with them in Devon. Kit had some reservations, but he had promised he would leave the Blackthorns to free them from the responsibility they felt over him. So he agreed, and left that very same day, like a coward –I guess it runs in my line of the family, he thought derisively--, as helpless and lonely as he felt, he could not stop thinking that it was the right thing to do… Having already caused so many problems to them, and, selfishly, he felt like he could not look at Ty in the eye after everything that had happened. He had every right to hate him and Kit would not be able to withstand Ty’s hate, however granted it may be.

So he fled and tried not to look back, to no avail of course, it was almost a second nature for him to let his eyes wander until they found him, talking to Livvy’s ghost with a calm look in his face, attentively listening as she seemed to be singing and dancing to Alec and Magnus’ first dance song as a married couple, with one of those disarming smiles, the ones that were so full of fondness that Kit felt on top of the world whenever he realized they was directed at him; his heart breaking once again at the thought that that would never happen again, and it was all his fault. It took him a while to tear his eyes away from him, trying to commit the image to memory. It wasn’t until he noticed the eyes of Tessa and Jem on him, quietly waiting. Kit sighed and turned around, pretending to be fine as we stepped into a portal to a new beginning.

Adjusting to a new home had been hard enough without the paralyzing thoughts that plagued his mind once he learned that Tessa was expecting a baby. He could barely take care of himself, and, while he knew that Jem and Tessa would never force him to help out with the baby; Kit felt that it was his obligation to repay them for opening their home to him, a perfect stranger, and trying to make him feel comfortable. They had been nothing but nice, and, he could not deny that he was starting to feel like he had found a place to call home, where he did not feel judgement over how much more he knew about pop culture than Shadowhunter’s, or how adamant he was to jump from high places even knowing that an iratze would heal his wounds; they truly made him feel like he was important to them, he could tell from the look in their eyes, full of pride whenever he managed to land the perfect kick, or when he started trying to become more involved in the home’s dynamic.

They never pried, respecting his space, only offering a shoulder in case he needed it, at the time he had been sure he would not take it, thinking he would be mortified; but, as time went on, it felt natural to air out his insecurities; he never detailed any particular situation, but he found himself lighter after every secret had been disclosed. Not only did this help him become closer to them but it also helped him understand how little trust he had in people’s feelings towards him. He had realized that he held his breath after every single secret had been shared, sure that they would be disappointed and tell him to leave, but that never happened. After coming to this realization, he decided that he needed to allow himself to believe more in people and to learn how to love himself; he wanted to be better, feel as if he deserved every blessing that had come his way as Jem and Tessa said, and he felt determined to try to do so.

He knew he had to make amends eventually with the Blackthorns, and, when Livvy appeared at his bedroom telling him all about how Ty became sick after Livvy disappeared for long periods of time, Kit knew he had to help. The only way he could think of was to give Livvy his mother’s pendant, Magnus had put a spell in it to protect him a little bit from the consequences of the ritual. It had been hard to let go of it, as it had been one of the few things he had of his mother, but he felt a spark of joy when he imagined Ty using something of his. Years went by quickly after that, and he had to admit he was proud at his progress; the feelings of insecurity took a lot of time to work through, but he no longer felt undeserving of people’s affection towards him.

Despite his initial apprehension, Mina became such a blessing in his life, it was as if she could feel his need for validation at the time and made sure to express it out loud whenever he was around, be it by squealing with delight whenever she noticed him coming towards her, even if he had only been gone for five minutes –he would not lie, it was too adorable and he found himself looking for excuses to leave just so that he could see the way her face lit up when he got back--, Tessa said Kit had a gift as he could get Mina to sleep within minutes, no matter how restless she had been before; one of her first words had been his name, much to Jem’s chagrin; the little girl would always follow him around once she was strong enough to start crawling and walking. She had become his inspiration and a beacon of hope for him, she helped him see that there were good parts in him that he had never noticed before which helped him build his confidence to the point that Tessa would often mention that he was finally living up to the famous Herondale’s ego, which always made him blush. He knew she was kidding as she would always say it with a fond look in her eyes that he had no doubt was in part brought on by Will’s memory, but also because she could see how much happier Kit had become over time.

He thought back to the time he had been scared that the baby would hate him, or that he would be a bad brother, do not get him wrong; he still felt a little insecure, but now those thoughts drove him to become better so that he could be the best support for his little sister. She helped him open up in a way no one else could, which was impressive as she could not really talk that well, but the way she looked at him when he talked to her, as if trying to focus every last bit of her attention on him, made him feel strong enough to talk to her about Ty, and everything he had felt towards him, the love, the yearning, the longing, and the frustration over how he could not let those feelings go. Even now, years later, he still found himself whipping his head when he spotted a raven hair in the corner of his eye, felt a pang in his chest whenever he looked at Tessa’s eyes for a little too long, too enraptured in memories of the love he had left behind in fear.

He had not forgotten the promise to make amends, he was just scared of their reaction. He had written what felt like hundreds of letters to Ty, all of them disguised as stories that he would read to Mina when she could not sleep. She quickly became a fan, a loyal shipper of the main couple. He was so tempted to tell her he was the bard in the story, bursting into song whenever the prince showed up to listen to his people’s needs because of his kind and caring nature. It was only natural she kept asking him for the ending, or when the bard and the prince would finally get together; Kit always felt his heart skip a beat in disappointment as he could not offer a definitive answer. Mina had been desperate as well by this outcome, “How could the bard go to another kingdom when he was in love with the prince?”, she asked him. He tried to justify this by explaining the fear he had experienced after the rejection he had suffered. But Mina, bless her heart, would not accept this answer, stating that no prince would leave forever; recounting how Tarzan had gone to that boat at the end of the movie to save all of them. Mina was sure that was what the story would boil down to.

Kit had been impressed, and he realized with a start that she was right, he was not ready to give up on Ty, he was not sure he would ever be; no matter how long they had been separated, Kit could never bring himself to stop thinking about the other boy. He had learned and grown so much these years, he knew it had been selfish to leave without letting the raven-haired boy say his piece, he had simply assumed he understood everything. But now, he realized that the puzzle –that was the best comparison that came to his mind—the one he thought he had all figured out, was missing some very important pieces. Pieces that could only be found in the hands of his prince, and he would get them. But first, he needed to come up with a plan.  

Chapter Text

Kit had already lost count of the amount of times he had started writing the letter, bearing his feelings out until he read them out loud and could not help but cringe, completely mortified at how desperate it all felt. He was beginning to understand what Tessa meant when she said that all Herondale’s were angsty people –especially in their teenage years—but, who could blame him? After making up his mind, he could not stop thinking of different ways to go back into Ty’s life, his stomach twisting in knots at the thought of the other wishing him away without letting him apologize for everything. He needed to make this perfect.

The problem was that, after four years apart, he had no way of knowing what the perfect tactic would be to go for. Thanks to the hours spent with Mina watching movies, he could think of little else but grand romantic gestures, musical numbers or getting himself into a dangerous situation that only Ty could save him from. He knew none of them would work; except for the latter, but he did not want to take advantage of Ty’s kindness to get him back; he wanted to win his forgiveness. He knew it would not be easy, Ty had felt betrayed by everything that went down before he fled, which could have only increased his disdain towards him, and he understood where those feelings came from; the Blackthorns had made it perfectly clear that their friendship was one they would have never seen coming as the silver-eyed tended to keep to himself and his twin until he came along.

Even Livvy had warned him off leaving Ty, as she could tell he had come to trust and care for Kit. He had promised her that night that he would never hurt him like that, but that was exactly what he did once he found himself backed into a corner against all of the years of insecurities that manifested themselves after hearing that “There is nothing without you”, Ty had said that in a moment of desperation to Livvy, and Kit had taken it personal. Thinking about the way he left never failed to spark guilt within him, that had not been fair at all to Ty as he knew how close their relationship had been like, inseparable from birth, and united by a fierce sense of loyalty and love, one that he had never seen before. It now reminded him of Jem and Will, a love so grand that it defied every expectation, even death. He could see it in Will’s eyes everytime he came to visit them, and see it reflected back on Jem’s face once he was alerted of his parabatai’s presence, coupled with a tense stance, probably due to not being able to see him for himself; but happy enough to know that he was in peace. That is what he wanted for Ty, not to see the look of anguish that surely plagued his face due to the uncertainty of what would become of them once the consequences crashed upon them.

With this, an idea came to his mind. He knew that the Black Volume had been invented by fairies; it could not hurt to see if he could find a way to spare Ty of the harms of the ritual. He felt apprehension as he realized that that would most likely imply that Livvy would be gone, officially this time; and he knew that the chance of Ty forgiving him after that would be slim to none. However, maybe if Kit could find a way to save her, Ty would understand how sorry he is for how things ended with them before and give them a chance to start over. Kit felt a spark of hope light up within him at the prospect of finally getting to repay everything the Blackthorns had done in the past. He would have to be very careful though, as he had had to lay low after the incident with the Riders of Mannan; too scared to draw unnecessary attention to himself that could alert the Queen of his whereabouts. He knew this meant he would have to find help as he did not feel prepared or trained enough to fend for himself alone in faerie; and he knew just where to find it.

To say that Ty was frustrated would be an understatement. He had always been the one people went to for facts and answers, it was one of the few advantages of having such a good memory, he could recount events from very early on in his childhood with incredible accuracy and, if he had read or heard it at least once –as long as he deemed it interesting or useful enough--, he remembered it, no exceptions. He was definitely using it to his advantage for his studies as he had swiftly progressed on his training and preparation to become a Centurion, quickly becoming one of the best in his class.

Now, however, he could not stop thinking about Livvy’s words. He was astounded to say the least, he had repeated that day in his head on loop for what felt like months after the ritual had been performed, obsessively trying to pinpoint what had caused Kit to snap at him the next day; even now, he still caught himself being swept by the memory of everything that had brought him to the Scholomance when he saw Livvy soaring through the air in the middle of his classes. But not once had he given it a thought about what Kit had said to him, trying to get him to stop. He had assumed that it had been fear what had drawn them apart; which is why the thought that he could have inadvertedly hurt Kit was sparking his anxiety in a way he had not felt in a long time.

That had to be it, the reason why Kit had abandoned him without saying goodbye, Ty could not stop thinking over and over the possibilities of what he might have done or said that broke the trust and bond they had formed to the point that he fled from their lives as if he had never been part of it at all. He felt so confused, and Livvy had not helped him understand the situation either. She had been experiencing some memory loss, so she could not recount what Kit had said, she only knew it concerned his feelings towards Ty. Ty felt a his stomach twisting, human emotion was an incredibly difficult subject on its own, animals were way more forward when expressing how they felt; also, Kit had been exceedingly kind and Ty was not sure if that had been product of true fondness or mere sympathy towards him. He was currently at the cafeteria, where everyone chewed way too loudly and seemed to be unable to process their thoughts quietly and by themselves; quickly overwhelming him even further.

Anxious and in need of answers, he went to the library and made his way to the restricted area, where he was the only one allowed, to look for information that may help him. He could not stop thinking that maybe it had been one of the consequences of the ritual; twisting his wish to bring back his other half, by losing the one who had helped him feel almost whole after losing his sister to Annabel, making him the one who drew the other away just as he dismissed Livvy’s desire to become parabatai. He squashed that thought as soon as it came, knowing that it would only cause the spiraling to become out of control. He delved into books, his perfect scape and, after a few hours went by, he could not find anything, he even tried using his phone to check if there were other possibilities. There had been a number of cases of selective amnesia caused by traumatic events, most linked to people who hiked near allegedly haunted forests, the victims claimed that they could remember going into the forest only to wake up a few hours later near the exit with no clue as to how they got there and without recollection of why their arms and legs were covered in greenish bruises. This seemed to have no connection to his case so he chose to dismiss it for now, thinking it could be worth investigating later.

He knew that in his current state, he would be having more trouble finding an answer, so he tried to relax by walking through his section of the library, the first few days he had been allowed to enter he had become so engrossed with all the books, the possibilities, that he found himself being woken by Livvy in the middle of the night or the next morning more than once. Having walked these hallways so many times, he let himself wander with no real destiny in mind, the sensory aids Julian had constructed for him in hand, until he started feeling more settled. He started reminiscing the day this section had been opened to him. He had been on his way to a class when someone told him that the board of directors was asking for him. Ty had felt his heart drop and his skin become cold, he had thought that someone had seen Livvy and knew of what he had done. He made his way to the meeting room, feeling even more uncomfortable as he saw that there were more people than he would have liked. However, on further inspection, he could see no signs of anger; but, as he was not the best when identifying emotions, he only allowed himself to feel relief once the director showed him a smile and asked him to sit.

Turns out that they wanted to promote him to an advanced Centurion program, one that would help him graduate faster and with the highest honors. This had pleased him as it meant that he had more freedom on the subjects he could study. This, however, meant that he would have to take an advanced training on weapons and fighting, his tutors had been adamant that it was necessary for his preparation as all Centurions were supposed to be elite soldiers and he could not continue avoiding it. Ty had no real interest in it, never had, and was about to turn the program down because of it until Catarina Loss, Ty’s favorite teacher suggested that, if he were to accept the training, he would be able to access the restricted area of the library to broaden his learning horizons –those had been her actual words, Ty could not help but think that it had to be Magnus’ doing as he had come to the Scholomance as a Literature Substitute teacher and the two had been inseparable ever since-- and expand the material he would have available for research.

Ty could feel his hands starting to flutter with the surge of excitement he felt at this prospect, he had repeatedly tried to sneak into this area after being denied entry, this could be his one chance on getting his hands on all that knowledge. Catarina had a gleam in her eye, but she could tell that the young student was having trepidations, with that in mind, she added “unchaperoned”; a proud smile adorning her face as she saw the way that Ty’s face lit up.

With that, all the members of the board agreed to Ty’s enrollment on the program, congratulating him and wishing him luck. Ty was becoming increasingly more uncomfortable because of all the attention that was focused on him; quickly excusing himself from the meeting and going straight to his room. Livvy and Irene were waiting for him, as always, and Ty felt relief at the sigh that left him; slowly feeling relief and happiness at the evening’s events. He told them everything and Livvy soon started soaring across the room, elated by the news. Ty sat on his bed and felt a fond smile forming on his face watching his sister, he also brought a hand up to pet Irene behind her ears once she got up on the bed, getting ready to take a nap, purring loudly and settling near Ty’s chest. He felt unbelievably calm at that moment; and he could not wait to see the new things he would learn.

The board had given him a week to rest before he could start the program, and Ty had agreed, as he knew he would most likely delve too deep on everything due to the excitement and he wanted to make sure he was well-rested in order to avoid the shaking hands, mood swings, and anxiety that ran through him before collapsing from exhaustion. This had happened before, on the first few weeks at the Scholomance, it had not come as a shock to anyone but him, he had barely slept or ate as he had been too focused on his studies. Julian had been livid, but it wasn’t entirely Ty’s fault, whenever he found something that fascinated him, he simply could not bring himself to leave it, even for a moment. After this incident, Julian asked Catarina to keep an eye on him, and she had; but he wanted to show everyone that he could take care of himself, that he was becoming a man, one who could be trusted with important missions, one who did not need to be protected all the time. He understood Julian’s concern as he had always been on the lookout, worried someone might notice how different Ty was and take him away from him.

He thought the world of Julian, forever grateful for all of the sacrifices he had had to endure to keep their family together, but he needed to feel like his older brother trusted him also, that he would no longer feel responsible over him and started enjoying life a little more. He knew that he had been postponing his travel year with Emma just so he could keep an eye on things, Mark and Helen were a little upset as they could manage without him and said as much. But Ty knew of his brother’s hesitance and wanted to make sure it was not because of him. The best solution he came up with was to become the best Centurion of his generation, so this program could not be more perfect; he knew Catarina had most likely already brought the news to Magnus, who would never turn down an opportunity to talk to Alec about it, who would then tell Jace; which meant that, eventually, his family would get the news through Clary and Emma.

This was later confirmed as he received a fire message from his siblings, congratulating him on the news. The day could not be better, and he decided to treat himself to a day of rereading the entire Sherlock series, accompanied by Irene who laid her head on his leg, numbing it so that he fell once he got up to go to the bathroom at one point in the afternoon, Livvy had quickly vanished as she could not resist laughing at the image of her brother fending off the lynx from playing with the sock that had slipped off his foot after the fall. Ty became immersed in the story, recreating each scene from memory, he had been very pleased but could not help but feel a sense of longing whenever Sherlock and Watson were solving a mystery for the parallel he had created had given him the same sense of excitement and adventure. whenever he and Kit were together, Ty became so lost in their world that he almost forgot about how different he felt with everyone else, Kit had made him feel special in a way he had not felt before, and he had always thought it was because of how he was the first person he had come to know outside of his family; but now he realized that what he and Kit had had was something else; more profound, though he could not explain how.

He could only hope that Kit would let him come back into his life after all this time if he realized how sorry he was for not having listened to him at the time. He was determined to understand better what had happened and what type of ritual they had performed, that was one of the reasons for his interest in the restricted area, as he was sure he would find more useful research material than the one he had found so far. That area contained mostly strictly confidential information, which is why it was almost impossible to be allowed access and Ty could not help but feel a weird warm feeling in his chest at the realization of how much Catarina trusted him, to let him study there unchaperoned, understanding his preference to silent environments as his senses overwhelmed him when he was near crowds. When the week passed and his study hours commenced, he did not wait to go directly to the forbidden area. He was let in and received a tour, and he almost let out a yelp once they reached the demonic languages and Seelie studies sections, the two subjects he had been most interested about ever since he realized how little knowledge he had on the magic that brought his sister back from the dead.

Therefore, this is where he was to be found at most times, not that anyone would look for him as this area was restricted and he was basically alone most of the time; except for Livvy and Irene. Over his time at the Scholomance, he noticed that he had grown close to some other students, he did not dislike them but he could not classify them as friends, their relationship felt so much different to the one he had had with Kit and, as he did not have much experience on the matter, assumed that they did not count as such because of it, only thought of them as close acquaintances, they would study together back when he had been with the other Centurions of his year, even letting them join him when it was time for lunch whenever he felt particularly social.

Anush was always happy, especially around him; he had noticed that he would always laugh at everything he said and that confused him greatly as he would not consider himself as someone funny. He was a good person, though, and never made fun of him. Divya, Anush’s cousin, was different, she was more serene, which he really appreciated, and could always tell when Ty was feeling a little overwhelmed, in need of space, or if he needed to talk. He was not sure how she did it, but she made him feel very comfortable without saying anything.

He had been disappointed when he learned that she had already graduated from the Scholomance when he met her, as she could only spend a few days with them whenever she came to visit and await further instructions or a new mission; but that only made him appreciate more the time she spent and dedicated to her cousin and him. Livvy also liked her, which was a plus; he did not know why but she seemed a little more apprehensive towards Anush, never leaving if they were alone together. This did not bother him as it meant that, if Ty started feeling drained, Livvy could create a distraction that would scare Anush away by making Irene play with her; that trick never failed and always managed to make him feel better after seeing how well his twin and Irene got along now. He had been worried they would be jealous of one another, but they had quickly become friends after Livvy saw how worried Irene became when Ty got sick and had to be taken to the infirmary.

With no more answers than when he started, he drew a breath; slowly inhaling and exhaling with his eyes closed, the smell of the burning candles soothing him further. Suddenly, he noticed a new smell in the air, of burnt sugar. This made him open his eyes with a start, he had forgotten Magnus was at the Scholomance-- not really forgotten, just overlooked—the same one that delivered the news that Kit had run off from his life, the one who was lifelong friends with Kit’s new adoptive family. With renewed hope, he jumped up from the floor, where he had been sitting once he found his favorite spot at the library –the one which provided the perfect lighting at any hour of the day because of the strategic placement of the candles; the perfect air flow, always letting fresh air in through the glamoured windows; and where the temperature was always right, cold enough to keep him from freezing, but not enough for him to need a sweater. With a new sense of purpose, he ran to where he knew he would find the High Warlock. He felt excited, the previous frustration discarded as, even if he did not have everything figured out, he knew now where to start.  

Chapter Text

Getting to the New York Institute had been fairly simple, Tessa readily agreed that he deserved some time to rest after all of the hours he had spent babysitting Mina and the countless hours he had spent training with Jem on his fighting skills and with her on his control over his magic; he was very pleased with his progress as he now felt able to defend himself in battle and not make someone disappear –unintentionally—whenever he lost control of his emotions. He could not help but remember how helpless he had felt before, while staying at the Los Angeles Institute, he had barely had any training before everything went down with Malcom, so he had been more than a little surprised when he realized he had actually made it out of the battle mostly unscathed, physically at least.

Mina had been visibly upset upon hearing the news, refusing to eat or talk to anyone. Kit felt a tug at his heartstrings, he had always felt that his impact on the world or in other people’s lives was minimal, that nothing would have changed if he hadn’t been there. Other times, he thought that these people would have been better off without having met him. His little sister changed that; he could not understand how a little four-year-old could possibly know exactly how to make every dark thought he had about himself crumble on its own because of her overwhelming love towards him. From very early on, he had been her favorite; always looking for him once she was done breastfeeding or taking a nap. Jem and Tessa had been over the moon, elated as they could feel Kit’s walls falling over the little girl’s attention. She was one of the reasons why he rarely spent any time outside of Devon, only leaving for important missions or to tag along when Jace was assigned to a mission on this side of the pond.

His relationship with him had drastically improved over time; at first, he had felt too pressured to measure up to his standards, to become the perfect soldier, warrior; to keep their family name intact. He had admired his cousin and wanted to make him proud, to show him that he could be a proper Herondale. That had made their relationship a little strained, making it even more difficult was the fact that the other seemed to have a knack for making fun of him over his mistakes, and, as one might expect, this did not sit well with him.

It wasn’t until one morning, a few days before going home, that Magnus entered the institute with Alec in hand, they had just returned from vacation and appeared to be ecstatic over coming back, their children following close behind. After greeting the Lightwoods, they made their way to the kitchen, where Kit was eating some cereal. He had wanted pancakes, and Izzy had offered to make him some; but he had heard about her culinary skills; so he had wanted to say no, but it all reminded him too much of Mark’s attempt at cooking, silencing him for a few seconds, which Izzy took as a yes. He had resigned himself to the idea when, in a very Mark fashion, she had proceeded to make a fire over the stove, completely by accident as she had not even turned it on. Simon entered the room and was visibly trying to stop himself from laughing out loud over his girlfriend’s distress, he could see a gleam returning to her eyes as she was recounting what had happened, whisking her away as she started to say that she could fix the pancakes by adding some ingredients she had found at the Shadow Market.

Kit could not even express his gratitude towards Simon at that moment, so he decided that he would give him a D&D figure before returning home. He had poured the cereal and milk into a bowl and sat by the corner when the Lightwood-Banes entered the room, their faces slowly falling in surprise, recognizing what had transpired a few moments prior. Magnus snapped his fingers and the mess was gone, a satisfied gleam in his eyes as he looked for any missing spots until his gaze landed on Kit; he seemed intrigued to find him there, almost hiding by the spice cabinet. Alec seemed to catch up on the fact that he had to be avoiding Jace, remembering how his parabatai had been looking for him when they entered the institute. They both glanced at each other before making their presence known, startling the lost Herondale as he had been too entranced by the memories that Izzy had triggered.

They asked him to join them while Alec went over to the fridge to grab some orange juice and poured it over two glasses and two to-go cups before sitting next to Magnus. Kit sat in front of them, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt while trying to avoid making eye contact with the two. He saw from the corner of his eye that the warlock sent the to-go cups away with a flourish of his hand, sparking his curiosity. He had been working on his magic with little to no success, he could not understand the power that resided in him, he feared it; needed to control it. The High Warlock noticed the way Kit reacted to this, and stored the information for a time when he could get him alone, as he could see the tension radiating off him and could only guess that it was because of his husband as he was not only the Consul, but also his cousin’s parabatai; the one they suspected he was hiding from.

Alec seemed to be struggling trying to start the conversation, Magnus recognized his tense stance, as well as the way he could not focus his eyes on one thing for long, or the way he licked and bit his lips as if trying to find the right words, seeing how they became puffy and red under his ministrations. Magnus tore his eyes away, knowing that, if he were to continue staring at his husband, not only would he become even more distracted, but he would not be able to help Alec with this situation. He knew how important it was to him as he had been in the same room with him while Jace was on speaker, spewing his frustration over not being able to connect with his cousin, about how nervous he became with every interaction, or how scared he was over his wellbeing considering that the Seelie Queen was looking for him and he was becoming of age to start going on patrol and could barely stand on his own in battle; or how much he felt like he had to be perfect because of fear of disappointing the other.

The high warlock had felt sympathy over Jace, he understood all too well how difficult it could be to care so much for someone who appeared distant, remembering all the times Raphael had made snark comments about him or made fun of how caring he could be to a centuries-old vampire. He could also tell that Kit was a little like that, afraid to show his feelings as he had been forced to keep them hidden, taught to not show weakness; he was also incredibly proud –like a true Herondale, he thought--, so it was only to be expected that the two would clash, both fueled by the same fear of being rejected by the only blood-relative they had left. He snapped out of his thoughts only to see Alec scrambling over his words, trying to distract the younger boy by asking him about the weather. Kit was visibly confused, but more relaxed, and Magnus could not help but smile fondly at Alec, he admired his kind heart, always willing to go through great lengths for those he cared about. He was so proud of him and everything he had accomplished, going from a shy, closeted teen to one of the highest Shadowhunter’s positions, proud to represent and vouch for the minorities and downworlders. Magnus had not had much faith in the Clave in the past, and he was still a little wary of them; but he felt a new sense of hope knowing that this new generation had chosen someone like Alec to represent them, someone who had chosen a warlock for a partner and had defied their traditional system, showing that fearless sense of righteousness that no rune can replicate, the one that allowed him to fight for his happiness and for the future of others like him.

Finally, he stepped in and said “so, how have you been liking New York, Kit?” Kit jumped a little at his name, having been observing Alec in a way he could only describe as clinical as well as highly amused, with an eyebrow cocked and a little tug on his lip, his chin resting on his hand while the other was scooping the cereal he had left in the bowl. He turned to him and Magnus could see how Kit started to assess the situation, closing his body language, and steeling his expression, making it unreadable. The high warlock could see the tension back in the young boy’s body, so he decided to change the subject, recounting the adventures he went through with Jem and Tessa, telling him all of their embarrassing stories, relaxing a little as he saw how the other boy became more and more unguarded and started laughing at the situations they had encountered as Shadowhunters. He had a feeling that the other boy would open up more once they were alone; and then, as if he had read his mind, Max started crying, Alec quickly standing up and leaving them to continue their talk.

He decided it would be a good time to talk about Will, he knew Kit had met him as a ghost, but he knew that he would only show his good side; like Jace had, so he proceeded to tell him all about the drama that their love triangle brought along, and how desperate Will had been over his life, the curse, his parabatai’s fate, the love he felt for Tessa; he spared no detail on that one after seeing how Kit gasped as he mentioned it, a look of pure shock and, somehow, relief, drowning his features, completely entranced in Magnus’ memories of the two and their story, of the drama that it entailed. Once again, he felt a wave of fondness over the Herondales, they felt everything so deeply, never able to hide it from their expressions once it overwhelmed them, boiling over the surface no matter how good they were at concealing them on a regular basis, their eyes were like ponds of sorrow once they felt trapped in the yearning only Herondales could understand, prey to their own desires as they were consumed by thoughts of inadequacy that would seem inconceivable to the naked eye.

That family had always been blessed with looks, a magnetic and charming personality, the skills, but it came at the price of a pressure so high that knocked them to their knees, drowning in everyone’s expectations, and even their own; falling victim to their own lone wolf complex, their self-sacrificing tendencies; which translated into withdrawing themselves from the people they held most dear to their hearts in an effort to save them from their personal demons. Magnus could do little but shake his head in exasperation, a light smile forming on his lips as he could see that distinctive look once again in this young Herondale, the same one that had plagued Will’s face when he went to him, desperate to break the curse for a life without his love had no meaning; the one that Jace had had over the months he tried to pretend his feelings for Clary were nothing more than brotherly. He could see the signs of pent up emotion in his eyes, tormented by memories that Magnus was sure concerned a certain raven haired and silver eyed Blackthorn.

He could still remember when he had told Tiberius about Kit leaving with Tessa and Jem. He had been upset with him, but that feeling evaporated as soon as he saw how affected he had become over learning that Kit would not return to him. He felt guilt consume him, as he knew that he tended to keep his feelings under wraps; so, for him to display it so openly in his face to him, basically a stranger, showed him how important the young Herondale had become to him. This stopped him on his tracks, looking for a way to make him feel better, but he soon found out that he did not know him enough to do so, so he left and spent the next few days trying to think of something to soften the effect of his words. From what he had heard of Ty, he was sure an apology would not be appreciated, as he would become uncomfortable and that was the last thing he wanted.

That is why he made sure to get Livia to look for Kit after finding out that the tether between the twins became so strong that Tiberius found himself at the infirmary, planting the seeds to guide her to him. He had been sure Kit would not hesitate to give her his locket, the one he had spelled to protect him from the consequences of the ritual, if it meant that Ty would be better. And he had been right, the next time he had seen the young Blackthorn, he could see it hanging from his neck, he had felt a little better knowing that he would be okay and that maybe their relationship was not completely broken. Obviously, something had happened, but it was just as obvious that they cared enough about each other to fight for what they had when the right time came for them.

After his trip down memory lane, he finally snapped back to the present as Kit cleared his throat, a conflicted look in his eyes that changed into surprise one as Magnus said “I am sure those silver eyes could even make the wicked go to heaven, go through any dark path, follow any blood red road to hell, just to see them glow again”. He waited for a few seconds, gauging Kit’s every reaction, once he saw the other immersed in a memory, he stood up from his chair and walked to the door, making sure to get Kit’s attention before saying “Tessa’s eyes never failed to bring the Herondale’s to their knees, I’m glad you are keeping up with the tradition”. With that, he winked and left, smiling as he heard Kit scrambling to get up and follow him. That day, he managed to get Kit to open up a little about his experience as a Shadowhunter, he could tell he was not ready to talk about his feelings for the other boy and he did not want to pry any more than he already had.

He was very pleased as he got to play a few jokes on Jace to show Kit that he was not as perfect as he seemed, and it had worked! Magnus was sure it also had to do with the conversation he had stumbled upon where Jace and Alec had been sitting by a window that had a direct view of where he and Kit had previously been talking. The two started getting along better after that, both making an effort into getting to know each other and, by the time he had to leave, he had almost asked Tessa to let him stay a little longer, but knew that would not be fair to Mina as he had promised her he would come back as soon as possible on their last video call; that had been the only way to get her to calm down and stop crying at the time. He said his goodbyes to everyone and promised to visit again as soon as he could.

And that would be now, almost four years later. They had visited him frequently to Devon, especially Jace, to train with him and assess his progress, Kit knew that he wanted to make sure that he was prepared for any eventuality or danger that could go his way, and also that he missed him. He had admitted as much on their way back from Kit’s favorite Indian restaurant; they both enjoyed spicy food and challenged each other to see who could withstand the most heat. Kit had lost, blaming it on the fact that he lived with a literal baby that could not handle a lot of spice. He had been incredibly touched by the vulnerability that his cousin showed, but found that he could not voice out loud all of the feelings that were coursing through him at the time, so he bumped his shoulder with Jace’s, and started shoving him until the tension was broken; Both of them laughing as they raced to Kit’s house; this time, Kit won as he used a shortcut and made Jace trip on a banana peel that appeared suddenly near the entryway.

Finally, he fulfilled his promise and was standing in front of the institute, he could not believe how little it had changed over time. Even if the world around it changed, rapidly; it seemed as if it was stuck in time, static despite the change surrounding it. He began wondering how would the mundanes see it, did it also change through time to keep up appearances? Or was the glamour so strong that they could not be bothered to wonder or too afraid to ask? As he thought of this, he opened the doors and the sight made him stop. He could see two kids running around playing tag, both magicking objects to get in the other’s way or portalling closer to their opponent. He could not believe how big Max and Rafe had gotten, remembering how they had played with Tavvy when they were younger.

He was so distracted by the children that he did not notice until it was too late that his cousin was also there, falling to the floor after being tackled into a hug. He had let Jace know that he would be visiting beforehand, and the other had readily accepted. Once they stood up from the ground, Jace told him to grab his belongings and took him to his room. They got inside and Kit collapsed on top of his bed, trying to catch his breath, he could tell that Jace was becoming impatient with the silence, wanting to know what Kit had meant by needing help when he said he would be coming over. He had thought about torturing him a little longer, but he thought better of it once he saw the other going into a stance that could only mean that he was planning on jumping on him to force the answer out of him and he was already struggling to breath as it was.

With a sigh, he sat up and looked at Jace straight in the eye. He seemed to catch on quickly and crossed his arms over his chest, his back straightening, his eyes locking on to his face. Kit felt his lips twitch into a smile as he said: “I have a plan, and it’s going to be trouble”. Excitement going through him as he saw the way Jace’s face mimicked his own. Maybe, despite his many failures, he was finally becoming a true Herondale.

Chapter Text

Mark stood by the large tree in front of the institute in deep thought. He felt conflicted, over the past few years he had been working in the Shadowhunter and Downworlder Alliance with Christina, and he felt like they had made a lot of progress. The consequences of the cold peace had been hard to erase, most of the Seelies had either gone into hiding, locked themselves in Faerie or gone missing without a trace. This troubled him and the rest of his peers as they had no way of knowing if this was an act of rebellion towards the Nephilim or if it had a more nefarious background. Despite everything he and his sister had accomplished, he could still detect a hint of hesitation from the more traditional Shadowhunter families to listen to them or to help the Seelies that came to them for protection.

Not only that, but he could not get the thought that Julian still did not trust him completely out of his head. It was a common practice for Shadowhunters to take their travel year once they turned eighteen, but Julian had not. He had attributed it to the fact that he wanted to make a good impression on the vigilant eyes of the Clave as the extremely young –and formerly secret-- acting head of the institute, especially after the little stunt they pulled by transforming into actual Nephilim in order to stop the battle from becoming a slaughter. Not only that, but he was also finally able to publicly pursue and court Emma as their parabatai bond got nulled after the events that took place in the Imperishable Fields.

While some saw this last part as a natural progression to their relationship, some did not take kindly to it due to the nature of the bond they had shared previously. The Blackthorns had always been very observant and noticed the way that the others appeared to be hesitant about them even after Julian and Emma’s part in stopping the battle. Neither of them ever voiced these thoughts out loud, but he had felt the way that his family began to act from the magnifying pressure that landed upon them, not presenting anything other than the perfect Shadowhunter image, not allowing any slip to happen that the others could use as an excuse to break their family apart under the pretense of disciplining an orphaned family, even if Mark and Helen were of age to take care of them. They had already defied enough direct orders and laws under their family motto, and he was not sure how long that would suffice as an argument against the Clave. There was also the unspoken understanding that the eldest Blackthorns were still on probation, so they had to be even more careful with the way they handled everything.

From then on, all of them became a unit; they had always been close and protective of each other, but now they fought for a common goal, maintaining their family image as neat and perfect as possible; becoming the perfect institute, with the strongest downworlder relations and the best statistics –coming second of course to the ones of the New York Institute, but that was to be expected --  to prevent any Cohort-like theories to form in the newly formed Shadowhunter society.

All seemed well and it had been many moons since they had reported any major demonic activity. And even that had been handled very quickly, so he was becoming increasingly more frustrated over Julian’s reservations on leaving the Institute to him and his sister. Not only were they older than him, but they had also proven to be reliable with the children and the administrative matters, they had even come up with a system to do the chores quite successfully if you asked him. He was still not allowed to contribute with the family meals, Aline took care of that, as well as any official Clave meetings in his place when Julian was busy or indisposed; Helen managed the communication with the Downworlder factions, and he took care of his siblings and helped them with their training.

He was extremely proud of every single one of them; remembering how he used to chant their names to the stars while riding with the Hunt. Not even in his wildest dreams had he thought that Julian would have to take care of them, being only twelve at the time, because of his rebellious nature. He should have known better, despite how ruthless he could be, he was a sensitive soul and would go through great lengths for those he cared about. However grateful he felt, he still felt a pang of guilt coursing through him over the childhood he had to sacrifice to keep his family safe. All of this happening while he was away.

He had felt scared as he knew not what had become of them once he had been taken, not knowing what fate had befallen his family after Sebastian’s attack on the Los Angeles Institute kept gnawing at his thoughts whenever he felt a moment of peace during his time serving Gwyn; guilt rapidly consuming him and rendering immobile, unresponsive, each moment fueling his misery further, even after he thought that he had surely found its limit. Each time he found out that he had not.  Kieran had been like a beacon of light in between the shadows of his guilt, pulling him out of the deep sorrow that threatened to swallow him whole at the last minute; he had thought that there was nothing that the Young Prince could do that would ever make him question his loyalty towards him. Sadly, once again, that had not been the case.

He could still feel the vines curling around his heart, his breath hitching, and eyes snapping closed in anger at the sound of a whip, remembering the way Julian, his little brother, had volunteered to take his punishment. Not only that but Emma, the small girl who he remembered from so many years ago, the one who had no blood bound to him, had also taken the consequences of his prince’s actions. He had felt his blood boil so hot that he was almost surprised at the fact that it had not evaporated right there. His every cell begging for the chance to vent the feelings of betrayal he felt over his former lover at the time. After that, he had sworn loyalty to his brother’s parabatai and tried to keep his Seelie tendencies to the minimum, forcing himself to ignore the whispers from the wind, the path that he could see laid out by the stars or the flowers by the sidewalk on every walk or patrol he took; like breadcrumbs, guiding him to a paradise full of every wonder he found himself longing after a day of being highly strung, like his bow right before launching an arrow, the feel of cold iron from the pillars always serving as a reminder of how unwelcoming the Shadowhunters could truly be towards the different factions of the downworld, with the religious ornaments decorating the institute, full of silver, high windows, and barriers.

It was no wonder that they seemed to have a particular distrust towards warlocks, as they had no weakness to exploit with them as well as the unmeasurable power that they had access to because of their lineage. With Seelies, he could only assume it had something to do with the fact that they defied the authority that the Clave posed, not bowing down to it, staying loyal to their own folk and reveling in the mind tricks they were known for, twisting the truth in a way that kept them from lying while convincing you to take the path that would offer the best outcome or entertainment to them. Due to this, they built every institute with the enough iron to keep any of the Fair Folk away.

While tolerable, this never failed to overwhelm him after long hours spent there, getting him to the point that he was always on the lookout to find excuses to get away from it; trying to make himself useful even while in distress over the turmoil that seemed to follow him and his family at every turn. However, he still tried to stay inside of the institute for as long as he could; for he had no doubt that it would call to him eventually. No matter how beautiful Faerie could be, he also knew or the terrors and facades it held, even to its own people, remembering the revels he had stumbled upon in the past, with Seelies dancing in trance, their faces frozen in pain and fear as their feet bled until they finally succumbed to exhaustion, stumped until they were no longer recognizable by the same ones who would later follow this path; all for the entertainment of one of the Unseelie royals.

The strategy of concealing his tendencies seemed to work quite well among the Shadowhunters. However, it did not take him long to understand that there was nothing wrong with him showing his Seelie ways, he decided that he would not be ashamed into closing that part of him in order to get the others to be comfortable around him. He wanted to fight for his people, both of them; for he knew that they deserved the chance to show their beauty, and who better than one who had lived it? From then on, he wore his heritage with pride, representing and giving his voice to defend the Seelie realm from being the target of blame for every terrible thing that happened with and after the war.  Luckily, the Consul seemed to agree with him, often siding with him during negotiations, which proved to be an impressive hand when dealing with those who were still weary of working alongside those of Faerie. 

No matter how happy he was here, finally with his family, finally being heard, he felt like there was something missing. He could never quite forget the feeling of freedom; all encompassing, overwhelming and somehow never enough; he longed for it as much as he longed to stay and protect his blood. He was tired of feeling a tether between the two worlds that made up who he was, the same one that forced him and Cristina apart from Kieran once he became the Unseelie King. They still had Adaon’s cottage, which they tried to visit as often as they could but, as time went on and their responsibilities increased, it had been harder and harder to find time that fit their tight schedules. He was worried, and he knew that Cristina felt the same; time in Faerie passed differently and the longer they went without seeing each other, the stronger the insecurity they felt as the acorns they received became fewer and fewer over time.

This unsettled their dynamic as that was their only means of communication with him, and they could not help but fear for the uncertainty that the days, or even months without a response represented; the thought erased as a new message arrived at their feet, fueling them with excitement to hear from their significant other, only to go back to the beginning once it had been sent. It was a vicious cycle, like that recurring nightmare where you already know what’s happening and yet still feel surprised to find yourself replaying the same motions and waking up in a cold sweat once the threat has finally gotten to you, just like the time before. He feared something similar was happening now, he couldn’t help but feel as if he was at that point, where everything seemed perfectly normal, where you feel guilty over being suspicious of it all but come to find out a little too late that you had been right all along; the big threat had been lurking, trying to get you to feel comfortable until it could latch on to you and startle you awake.

He could feel that something was wrong, he could almost feel it in the air, as if everything around him was trying to warn him of something, in a whisper so low that he could not grasp what was being said, but he could feel its urgency. He focused all of his energy into trying to listen to his surroundings, to zero in on their unspoken conversation, he felt like he was so close to getting the answers he was looking for, a chill running down his spine as heard a shrill that seemed to be coming closer to him the harder he tried to concentrate on it. He knew that someone was trying to tell him something. He was not sure how, but he knew that those sounds were meant to be words, however undistinguishable they seemed to him. He closed his eyes so hard that he could see little stars dancing through his eyelids, like the ones he had seen many times before. Then, he felt a gush of wind knock his balance, and he realized that a portal was being opened right by the doors of the institute.

He got up on his feet, apparently he had collapsed to his knees with the effort he had exerted, he squinted his eyes, trying to focus on the two figures who appeared to be now in front of his home. He could not shake the sparks away form his vision fast enough –he must have been putting a lot of pressure on them while entranced, he thought--. He could see glimpses of the individuals who had come out of the portal, two almost identical figures that seemed to be talking to each other in hushed voices. He walked closer to them, taking advantage of the fact that they seemed to be distracted and had not noticed him upon their arrival.

As he got closer, he noticed that they were not completely identical, but the similarity between the two was astounding, all he could distinguish was leather and yellow, he felt like he knew them, a familiarity he could not explain tugging at his heartstrings and playing a melancholic tune that he seemed to have forgotten about but could still play along to. Once again, he could feel himself being consumed by his thoughts, his body going through the motions automatically trying to get closer to his target; he had been so distracted that he failed to notice the step that was in front of him, he tripped and managed to twist his body in a way that his shoulder would soften the blow once he touched the ground, closing his eyes on impact and laying on his back to take a deep breath.

Immediately aware of the situation, he snapped his eyes open. Before, it had only been stars, glimpses of color and shadows. Now, his vision was much clearer, and he felt a pang in his chest as he recognized who was at the door, Jace and Kit Herondale. He and Jace had developed a good relationship over the years, him being one of the few people who he had had contact with while in Faerie. Kit, however, was a different case. He had abandoned them without saying goodbye, he had seen the impact it had had on his brother and Mark felt the betrayal almost as if he had taken the hit himself. A lot of years had gone by and he could still not understand what had happened, but from the few interactions he had had with Tiberius over the years, he had a feeling that something had happened between them that drew them apart.

It must have been unpleasant as he could still remember the shadows dancing behind Ty’s eyes whenever the subject was broached, his hands fluttering while he turned around and locked himself in his room, sometimes for days. This had been the case until he finally decided to leave for the Scholomance, they frequently wrote to him, and sometimes he wrote back; but he had not been the same since Magnus and Alec’s wedding, he becamemore withdrawn and with a forlorn look to him that never left him. Always nervous, almost paranoid, as if he was expecting an attack at every moment.

The so-called Lost Herondale looked so different. In his memory, he could only see a skinny little boy that followed his twin siblings everywhere like a sidekick. Now, he could see how much he had grown, muscle tightening his gear and almost as tall as Jace. He felt a burst of irritation at the sight, he had thought about what he would say to the young Herondale the next time he got to see him, let him know of the damage he had caused to his beloved brother, the one who they had lost before he even left for the Scholomance to become a Centurion. He quickly got up on his feet and stood in front of Kit, balling his fists in the neckline of the other’s shirt and drawing him closer to him, preparing to deliver every single line he had rehearsed in his head after seeing how much suffering his brother had gone through because of him. He also thought of his family, they had taken him in, and he could not understand how he could leave them like that, as if they had not mattered.

He felt his eyes burning holes into the other’s skull, bouncing around, taking every new detail in. He opened his mouth and he felt as if venom was being forced out of his throat, burning through him in anger; quickly dying down as he finally met Kit’s eyes, he could see sorrow, regret, desperation in the other’s gaze. He could tell that he was fighting off tears, his gaze dropping to the floor as if trying to make himself disappear, his shoulders hunching in on himself to make him appear smaller. Then, he could see that Jace came close to them, not trying to force them apart he realized, but to squeeze his cousin’s arm in a gesture that seemed to offer reassurance. It seemed to make the other snap out of his thoughts, not before Mark noticed the longing he had only seen in Tiberius’ eyes whenever this Herondale was mentioned, his heart breaking a little more as he recognized the look. It vanished as soon as it had appeared, Kit’s gaze steeling in determination.

Mark was taken aback, Kit had always made sure to keep his face neutral while staying with them at the institute, not portraying any emotion or weakness; so, for him to be wearing his heart on his sleeve this way, he was sure that this visit was a painful experience to the young Herondale. This could only mean that he had to have a good reason for coming here after all these years. He finally let him go, noticing the creases that his fists had left in Kit’s shirt. The other appeared startled, and guilty, almost as if he had wanted the shouting; he was sure that, had he hit him as he had planned to, the other would not have even put up a fight, he would have taken as many hits and kicks that came his way and Mark felt sympathy for this Herondale, he could see years of torment in his eyes, and he finally took a proper look at him.

He still looked so young, frightened; Mark just realized that Kit had barely been a young boy when the battle at the Imperishable Fields went down. Not only that, but, at the time, he had just found out that he was a Shadowhunter, had just lost his father, and got thrust into a whole new world; it was only natural that he had ran away, now that he thought about it. Had he had the chance of fleeing from Faerie after being joining the Hunt, he would have taken it without any question. He could still not understand why the other had left without saying goodbye, but he could tell that Kit had not felt like he had a choice at the time and could still not forgive himself for it.

Finally, he let out a sigh and took Kit in his arms, enveloping in a tight hug. The young Herondale stood frozen for a few seconds until he finally wrapped his arms around him as well. He made sure to pour every ounce of fondness he had for the other on the embrace, he could feel the other being stiff as a board, his fingers trembling by the force with which he gripped Mark’s shirt. Finally, he could feel the other start to relax and let out a soft and choked up “I am sorry”. And that was that, he could feel the tension in the air lifting up, a weight being taken off his chest, and Kit was finally able to relish in a moment he had been dreading for the last four years. He knew that he still had to explain everything –except the part about bringing Livvy back, that could wait--, and he had to make amends with the rest of the Blackthorns, but he still felt incredibly relieved to get a piece of his old life back.

They withdrew from the hug to find Jace wandering by the garden. Surely, he had felt a little awkward with everything that had happened in the last few seconds? Minutes? He had felt such an adrenaline rush at seeing Ty’s brother that he had frozen in fear. He could not understand what had made Mark not immediately kill him on the spot as he seemed to have planned to, but he was very grateful indeed. Now that everything seemed fine, Kit turned to Mark and took a deep breath.

“Would you walk with me?” He said as he pointed with his head in the direction of the beach. Mark threw him a suspicious look.

 “Are you not coming inside?”, he countered. He could see Kit’s eyes open in surprise, his breath hitch loudly and his skin become a little pale. He seemed to be trying to find the words, frantically trying to find an object in their vicinity to focus on, but none seemed to be captivating enough to ground him. He took pity on the young Herondale as he could see how much the thought of confronting the rest of the Blackthorn family pained him. He looked completely drained and he was not sure if that had been because of their previous interaction or for other reasons. He agreed to go on a walk and noticed how Jace had gotten into the Institute, most likely making sure no one would notice his absence, look for him and startle his cousin into a heart attack, that’s how stressed the other looked, he was surprised he had not collapsed while he had lifted him from the floor by his shirt. Once again, realizing how much time had passed and how strong this new Kit seemed to have become. They walked in silence until they reached the ocean, Kit staring off into the horizon with eyes full of wonder.

“I really missed this place; the ocean, the weather, the pancakes, T… everything” Mark noticed the other hiding a blush and felt his lips twitch into a smile he tried to conceal as he said “I am sure he misses you too”. Kit’s face turned crimson as his neck snapped to face him with such a force that he was surprised that the other had not even winced, his eyes appearing to almost pop out of their sockets, a gasp leaving him as his mouth dropped so hard that his jaw clicked, staring at him with a look that could only be described as incredulously embarrassed. He could practically see the smoke coming out of his ears as he seemed to be scrambling for words, his stupor broken as Mark’s façade finally cracked to let out a laugh that he made sure to measure in order to not hurt the other’s feelings as he could tell that it was a sensitive topic. What replaced this look was a look of apprehension, softened by a longing and hope so visible that it was basically written all over the young Herondale’s face. He dropped his gaze to the sand and began writing words in it, he could not see them because of the angle, but he could tell that this seemed to calm him down.

Finally, Kit took a deep breath and turned to him. “I need your help to get in and out of Faerie unnoticed”. Now it was Mark’s turn to gasp and give him and incredulous look, “Why do you need to go into Faerie?” he questioned, “it is not like the Shadow Market, you do not want to gamble or take anything they offer you if you want to make it out alive. Especially if you are a Shadowhunter”. He could see a conflicted look cross Kit’s eyes, replaced by a look that he was sure meant to show confidence while he quipped back with a “you make it sound just like the Shadow Market, you know?”. Mark fixed him with a blank stare and could see the other sigh and look around them, he stared right into his eyes and told him with a serious tone and a tense stance.

“If I tell you, you have to promise you will not repeat what is discussed here with anyone”

He did not know why, but he felt compelled to do as he asked, even if he had a feeling that it would be a difficult promise to keep. He agreed and suddenly found himself surrounded by an invisible barrier that seemed to drown out the sound from outside. He turned to see Kit and saw the way that he seemed to be bouncing on the balls of his feet like a charged ball of energy, increasingly winding up until it would eventually blow up. Mark started to take deep breaths very loudly, trying to get Kit to follow; once he saw that the other had sufficiently calmed down, he stopped and put a hand on his shoulder like Jace had before, trying to offer him the same support with the gesture. This seemed to help him relax enough for him to draw one last breath and turn to look at him, he looked so vulnerable that he was almost tempted to help him without asking for an explanation, but venturing into Faerie without knowing what to look for or to expect would be incredibly irresponsible of him.

Having made up his mind, he waited until Kit said: “You know how there is that story about the First Heir? The Unseelie King’s firstborn that he killed because it was a girl, but they could never confirm it as they never found her body?” Mark nodded in affirmation as confusion contorted his features. Kit took another deep breath as he nodded along with him, “Right, of course you knew, you’re Kieran’s boyfriend, that was a dumb question, I promise I have a point, it’s just that…” Mark was growing desperate and broke Kit off his rambling by calling his name, quickly shutting him up.

He stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans and took deep breaths while staring at the sky, almost as if sending a prayer or looking for an answer up there. He closed his eyes and said, “I’m a descendant of the First Heir”. He finally looked down to face Mark, who had a surprised look on his face, he followed that revelation with: “I made the Riders of Mannan disappear at the Imperishable Fields and since then I have been unable to control my powers and had to go into hiding because apparently there’s a big price for my head for anyone who takes me to the Seelie Queen.” Kit felt an unexpected wave of calmness wave through him as he finally said those words as if they had been taken by the ocean. He had said the truth, only omitted the part where he needed to go into Faerie to save Ty from the ritual they had performed to bring Livvy back to life. He felt a little guilty about not mentioning that detail, but he could not bring himself to disclose that information without Ty’s approval.

A few minutes passed by and Mark’s face still held that surprised expression, for a second, he panicked thinking that he had frozen time because of his nerves, but his frantic motions broke the other out of his reverie. He finally turned his gaze on him, inspecting him more closely, he felt as if he was looking for something that would remind the Blackthorn of Kieran, like the birthmark all Herondales had on their shoulder. After a few moments passed, he fixed him with a confused stare and asked, “why do you want to go into Faerie if there is a price on your head?”, he did not seem suspicious, just curious. Kit simply explained: “I need to understand my powers in order to make sure that I will be able to protect my family and not burden them anymore. I need to feel as if I can keep everyone I care about safe, I could not bear the thought of disappointing the people I care about the most again.” He went silent and Mark had thought that that was it, he was ready to say that he did not feel as if that was enough of a reason to go into danger, but Kit beat him to it by saying “There is also this feeling, I can tell something’s wrong. Its almost like I can feel it in the air, something’s calling out to me, in pain, and it brought me to you. I know I have no right in asking you to do this, but I believe you are the only one who can help me.”

Mark let out a breath he had not even realized he was holding; it was as if he felt a blindfold being lifted and showing him the way. He could not see it, but he could feel it in his core, Kit was right, this was what they had to do. The wind now howling the quiet tune he had come to relish in, the one that spoke to him whenever he felt lost or in danger. Now, it whispered to him, a hum full of excitement and adventure, he understood what was being said now. He knew it would not be an easy quest, but he had no doubt that Faerie would not call to him if not for dire reasons.

He had once thought that, in order to protect his family, he needed to ignore the other half of his heritage, that he had to flee and hide from it. Now, he knew that he could no longer escape from it as it was a part of him, a part he was proud of, and he would stand and fight to protect it even if it meant staring into the deep unknown that he knew Faerie would bring their way. He could see the anticipation building over Kit’s shoulders, his expression unreadable except for his eyes, in those he could see the nerves, the fear that he must be feeling over disclosing such a secret. He stood up and extended his hand, locking eyes with him. Once the other took it in a handshake, he opened his mouth and said “I will walk with you… I will help”.

Chapter Text

Throughout his life, Ty had had tremendous difficulty understanding other’s emotions. He felt like it ostracized him further, put focus on him, which never failed to make him feel uncomfortable and overwhelmed when in crowds. He knows he’s different, and that does not really bother him anymore. The problem lies in the fact that he cannot understand how much different to everyone else he is. He knows the basics, he has a hard time with sarcasm, metaphors, non-verbal cues; and he feels a little relief in that knowledge. However, he does not know the extent of the other’s experience, as Julian was not around at the Scholomance, he could not ask him all the questions he was anxious to comprehend. Do other people really have the ability of seeing through him or everyone around them? Can a heart truly skip a beat? Are there really shadows dancing in the reflection of your eyes when you are sad? And, if so, who is dancing? Can a person truly light up a room with their presence alone? Can blood boil because of anger or jealousy? Should Catarina’s wink be sleeping more?

These were the kind of questions that kept going through his mind whenever he was in a group activity. He simply found it to be so exhausting, the loud noises, the chaos, the constant distancing in order to prevent someone from getting too close to him, everyone’s love for small talk, or trying to understand what was so funny about a chicken crossing the street. He did not care for any of that, when he first got into the Scholomance, he had thought that it would be rigorous training and long study hours, while he was not excited over the first one, the latter really interested him. It had been that, but also, he had been forced to participate in some events that were meant to help the new students bond and know each other.

He had hated it.

He would have left at the moment he realized what was happening, but their assistance had been mandatory. So, Ty had stood by a pillar, quietly observing the others as they ate and talked with each other. Some had tried to get him to join them, but he chose to ignore them by turning the volume of his headphones higher and facing a different direction, avoiding eye contact as usual. They had this type of events from time to time, and they were still mandatory, but Ty had come up with increasingly creative and inventive solutions to this dilemma. There was this one time where he fully took advantage of the restricted area. He had planted a mannequin by the corner he usually went for and put a speaker near it that played Irene’s growl so that they would not try to get any closer. He could still not understand how anyone could be afraid of her, but he was grateful for it as it had provided him with a perfect escape plan and alibi while he continued with his reading. The Sherlock series had really changed his life, it had helped him embrace his quietness, curiosity and intellect, he also appreciated that Sherlock tended to keep to himself, just like he did, with the few exceptions being those who accepted him and called him out when he was wrong.

Once again, he felt that twinge in his chest at the thought of the last summer that he, Livvy and Kit had been together. He had concluded it had to be stress-related, making his muscles contract after experiencing certain triggers. He had tried to keep a journal of these occurrences in order to identify the cause and he had managed to narrow it down to a few things: the ritual, memories of the battle at the Imperishable Fields, and Kit. There had been a few other but he had noticed that those seemed to be the ones that appeared most often in his thoughts before the peculiar feeling started. He assumed it was normal as every item on his list brought along a painful memory with it, further adding to the stress he was constantly feeling over finding out what was wrong with his sister and saving her.

At first glance, she seemed perfectly normal, but he knew his twin. Even if she was no longer herself, he still knew her like he still knew the exact number of windows that the Los Angeles Institute had at the front, the sides, and the back. He had noticed that something was wrong before it even started, she would disappear for hours only to return in a daze, with no recollection of where she had been after regaining her consciousness, waking up alarmed and confused. He was becoming increasingly worried as this seemed to be happening more and more often, the dazes also kept getting stronger and longer as time went on, and he was afraid that she would not be able to come back to him next time.

That was the only reason why he was even considering attending this event, for he knew that Magnus would most definitely not be spending his time in his room if there was a party. He had been trying to find the High Warlock since he had come up with a plan. However, as he rushed to the place where the burnt sugar smell was coming from, he found a portal vanishing right before his eyes. He then went to Catarina, asking about Magnus’ whereabouts, only to find out that he had gone back to the New York Institute to spend time with his husband and children. Ty balled his fists and tightened his jaw in frustration, he tried to take deep breaths and take one of his sensory aids to help him calm down. Catarina seemed worried over his distress and proceeded to let him inside of her room, serving him tea and letting him sit by her window, where he could appreciate her book collection as she knew how the boy felt about them. She could see him take deep, shallow breaths, one hand playing with his sensory aid, and the other gripping the teacup so tightly that she was scared it would crack under the pressure.

She noticed that the Blackthorn boy seemed to be calming down, his eyes sweeping over her extensive bookcase. She was glad that it seemed to be working as Shadowhunter infirmaries did not have the necessary supplies to properly treat the repercussions of a panic attack. Catarina loved working at the Scholomance. This way, she felt closer to Ragnor and like she was helping to make a difference for the Downworld by shaping the young minds of its students, the ones who would lead the way to the new generation, free of prejudices from the past and of reservations towards those who were different. Centurions had once been a synonym of elite warriors, they commanded respect, and people had followed them. This reputation had been tarnished by the Dearborns and the Cohort, but they were slowly but surely showing the rest of the Clave that they were not like the fanatics that came before them.

Still, however, there was the fact that Shadowhunters continued to behave as if they were above medicine, relying only on their angel blood, their runes and warlock or Silent Brother’s power to heal them in case it was a demon-related injury. No matter how much they were reminded that, despite their angel blood, they were still part human, they refused to accept their advancements and discoveries. There were some exceptions of course, as they did use cellphones from time to time, only for emergencies; and even this was frowned upon by some. While she could not deny that her time working at mundane hospitals had been incredibly stressful, having had to hide her powers and all, it had been tremendously rewarding. For all that they lacked in impressive skills or powers, they made up with curiosity and empathy –not all of them, of course; they also had their own Valentines to deal with--. But, despite that, the ones that did care managed to innovate and look for better alternatives to help their people and the creatures that existed in the world –the ones they knew of, at least.

That is why she was beyond astounded every time she realized that they -- the ones who walked like they owned the place everywhere they went, the ones who had ruled over the Shadow World with an iron fist, the ones who called upon their angel blood to justify their authority over all the other creatures—could disregard their own people´s health like that, in the sake of what she could only assume was pride. They were soldiers, so it was not uncommon for them to go through severe injuries as well as incredible amounts of stress and loss, which could produce anxiety disorders or episodes that rendered them unfit for duty and, if that happened, from what she had heard, were then treated like less, rejected and dumped like the dust you sweep under the bed before a visit. Not only that, but cases like Ty´s were kept hidden, in fear of what would become of a child who had trouble adjusting, found no interest in training or who needed headphones when in battle to avoid becoming overstimulated to the point that he would collapse. She tried to treat all her students the same, to not play favorites; but Tiberius was a special case, he was brilliant, calm and curious to a fault, always asking intriguing questions and adding to her comments by excitedly recounting something he had read that was related to what was being discussed.

She still remembered her first day with him in class. She had been nervous, she always was with the first years as she knew not what to expect, it had been years since she had been teaching there, and had had more than enough experience dealing with those who had reservations over downworlders teaching at the Scholomance. Luckily, those cases had diminished drastically over the years, but she was still wary whenever she introduced herself to her new students. They had been quiet, and she was becoming disillusioned as she hated the silence in a classroom, she found it invigorating when students would engage in debates and question her, challenge her to make them understand the importance of that particular subject. She continued with the class and tried to get them to participate, her eyes roaming through all the faces in the room, she always tried to learn the names and faces of each of her students by the end of their first week, like a personal goal during what was, in her opinion, the hardest and longest week to go through of the year. The day’s subject was biology, not the most exciting, and she could see this in the bored stares the students were aiming at her, if they were even pretending to pay attention.

Suddenly, she noticed the one that sat at the very back, with headphones hanging by his neck and with a big hoodie covering him. He seemed to blend into his surroundings so well that she had not seen him until that moment, and she felt a spark of hope light up within her as she saw the way his eyes were trained on the blackboard, his head tilted in a way that showed that he was fascinated by everything she was saying. His face had been obscured by the hoodie, but it only took a few minutes for it to fall as a result of him snapping his neck to the side as a bird flew by the window. Once she finally saw his face, she recognized him, he was the Blackthorn kid, the one that the weapons coach had been rambling on and on at the teachers’ lounge. Apparently, he did not pay attention to his demonstrations and refused to take his headphones off during practice, other teachers said that he would never focus on them, only on the blackboard, the window, the floor or the ceiling and sometimes they even found him sleeping during the lectures, but none could complain as he still got perfect scores on every test and answered correctly when asked during class.

She was not surprised by any of this as she had noticed previously that Ty was on the autistic spectrum. She had wanted to defend him, to explain that there was nothing wrong with him, but knew that they would not be able to understand, they were not ready yet. She felt a burst of affection course through her as she saw him being interested in her class. At that moment she felt that, even if he were the only one invested in it, this year would be okay. From then on, Ty sat at the front of the class, only on her period, as she had been hastily informed by other teachers as she mentioned how good of a student he was. However partial she tried to be, it was crystal clear that she had a soft spot for one Tiberius Blackthorn, he could do almost –she really wanted to emphasize that word, to believe in it-- no wrong in her eyes, and made sure to stand up for him when needed.

When she had been placed in charge of the restricted area of the library, she had taken it so seriously that even the maintenance crew did not go in there, she had taken that task, which was not that difficult as she could simply magic the dust away. But, that day with the Board of Directors, she knew that that was a deal that the kid would not be able to refuse and she had been determined to make him enroll in the program. The board had been hesitant when she proposed him for the new program they were planning on launching. She had quickly assured them that he was the perfect candidate considering his test scores, and most of the members could not disagree; except for one, the weapons teacher.

She could not believe how a fully-grown man could hold a grudge for so long over a student mastering the star throws through observation alone, Ty had said it was all about angles and that it was not that different to throwing a knife, only having to adjust to the object being smaller but that it was easier as knives required more accuracy. This had happened almost a year ago and it still seemed to torment him; Catarina sighed as she thought to herself about how childish the other’s behavior was. Then again, compared to her, he really was a child, and, as such, he gave in to the peer pressure and accepted Ty’s enrollment under the condition that he took an advanced weapons training as he had been skipping his classes at any chance he could find. Catarina winced inwardly; she knew that it would be difficult to convince Ty to accept joining the program if it meant that he had to endure activities that he did not care about. But she was determined, this was his chance to prove that he was capable, that there was nothing he could not do, and she would do anything to make sure that Ty got the recognition he deserved.

She snapped out of the memory as she saw Tiberius standing up and going for one of the books she had at the top of her bookshelf, one that had relation to the Black Volume of Death. She kept it there to make sure that no one would put their hands on it, and this would be no exception. She quickly regained her composure and broke Ty’s attention by asking him: “I forgot to ask, what do you need Magnus for?”, to which he tensed and stumbled on his words as he clearly tried to come up with a lie. She would have been upset if not for the fact that she was sure that, for Ty to react this way, it had to be something private and very important. She sighed and told him that he had said he would try to come back as soon as he could, though he made no promises as he had missed his family terribly over these past few weeks.

However, she had made him promise to stop by the Scholomance’s party as she was not looking forward to going alone to witness this party without him. And who better than Magnus Bane? He had the perfect excuse to be there, would laugh with her at the hormone-ridden teenagers trying to flirt or dance with each other, and would be a tremendous dance partner once the music started becoming a little more dated as the party was coming to an end. She commented this to Ty, who appeared crest-fallen and irritated by the news as the event would take place in a few days. She simply lifted her eyebrow and amusedly slurped on her tea as the young Blackthorn slumped back into the chair, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. After a few minutes, he stood up, thanked her for her time and went back to his room. He knew what he had to do, but he really did not want to do it.

The day had finally come and Ty had arrived on time to the party, becoming desperate as he could not seem to find the High Warlock, he was also getting irritated at the thought that Magnus may not fulfill his promise to Catarina. Almost an hour had gone by and there was no sign of him, just as he was about to leave, the doors opened wide as Magnus waltzed in, dressed way more extravagantly than the rest of the students. He clapped, and the room grew quiet as everyone turned to see him, their expressions showing amusement at his antics, Magnus appeared to be reveling in the attention, a smirk forming slowly on his face as he finally said, “I’m sorry I’m late. You know what they say, you can’t rush perfection” with a wink. Everyone laughed and went back to what they were doing. Magnus made his way to the table where the punch was, poured himself a glass and was starting to make a flourish with his hands before Ty caught up to him, making his presence known by clearing his throat as loud as he could.

This got the High Warlock to stop what he was doing and turn to him, eyebrows rising so high that they seemed to disappear underneath a lock of hair that seemed to be strategically placed on his face. Magnus fixed him with curious stare, taking his eyes from his shoes to the very top of his head. Magnus was still taller than him, he remembered the last interaction they had had years ago; and, suddenly, Ty realized that he was not even sure if he remembered him, with all of the people he was sure to have met after marrying the Consul, Alexander Lightwood-Bane. The silver-eyed boy could not tell what the other was thinking as he still was not good at maintaining eye contact with people, especially those who had seemed to be angry with him the last time they saw each other. Maybe this had been a bad idea, he thought as Magnus appeared to be opening and closing his mouth repeatedly while putting his glass back on the table.

He took a step back and Magnus followed it. He brought his eyes up and felt himself relax a little as he could not see any negative emotions on the warlock’s face. If anything, he appeared to be surprised, though he appeared to be feeling other emotions as well as his face kept twitching in different places. Ty tilted his head to the side and asked if the other was feeling okay, worried that perhaps his clothing had not been the only reason for the warlock’s late entrance. This seemed to amuse Magnus, laughing quietly while extending his arm in what most likely was meant to be a pat him on the shoulder; however, he froze midway, probably remembering that he did not appreciate sudden contact and drew the hand away. Ty felt a smile forming on his lips as, despite how long ago it had been, Magnus still knew him and respected his boundaries.

The High Warlock started assessing his surroundings, in a way that seemed worried and critical, snapping his eyes back to look at Tiberius, with a tense stance to him but a wide grin softening his features as he said “Tiberius, lovely to see you.” He nodded his head in his direction, Ty nodding along with him and throwing him a confused look, he remembered how angry Magnus had been the last time they talked; so he had not been expecting this kind of greeting. Magnus seemed to catch on to his confusion as he brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck. Ty was starting to feel overwhelmed with everything, the music, the people, the smells, and he could feel himself closing up, his hands were shaking as he brought them up to his headphones. He could feel himself spiraling, but, suddenly, everything grew quiet and he snapped his eyes open, only to realize that Magnus had taken them outside. He did not know if they had gone through a portal or if he had followed him out, but, he did not care as he was finally able to feel the air caressing his face and took a deep breath.

They walked for a while in silence, Ty perusing and organizing his thoughts to make the warlock understand his situation. Luckily, Magnus knew all about the ritual, as he did not want to retell that story, but he did not know of everything that had happened after that. He tried to make a list, in chronological order, that he could recount so that he understood how pressing this matter was. However, there was a question in his head that was making it very difficult to concentrate right now. He stopped walking as they were passing near a tree, his eyes going up to look at the ground, checking its roots; and then up to look at its branches. Magnus had halted his steps as well and had turned his head to the side to see what had made Ty stop, a look of concern in his features that made the young Blackthorn unable to continue repressing his thoughts.

“Didn’t you hate me?”

He heard the gasp that the High Warlock let out and saw how his face dropped in a wince instantly, his gaze dropping to the floor; he looked troubled but walked closer to him and said, “Tiberius, I have wanted to reach out and apologize for my behavior the last time we saw each other. At that time, I was under a lot of stress, and it was not your fault. You do not have to forgive me, but I need you to know that I have always had a very close relationship to the Herondales and I had just seen the fallout of Kit’s confession, he was devastated, and I took it out on you. That was not right, and I hope you can forgive me, I did not mean to cause you any distress, but I know I did. I also should have been more tactful when I told you about Kit leaving with Tessa and Jem, I do not even know what I was thinking at the time, but I do know it hurt you, and that I am truly sorry for that.” Ty looked surprised throughout Magnus’ apology, he stood, frozen, for a few seconds and he gave him time to process his speech, knowing that he was most likely replaying it back in his head, dissecting it, making sure that he understood everything. Ty, as his good friend Arthur Conan Doyle’s beloved character, found comfort in understanding, in knowledge, even if that meant that he would leave his companions waiting as he perused in his own thoughts for long periods of time.

When Ty finally came back, he blinked rapidly and looked at him as if Magnus held the answers of the universe, his eyes lighting up and a smile gracing his features. For once, he looked hopeful and young, the forlorn expression he always had on had been replaced by a look of pure wonder, Magnus’ heart twisting as a burst of affection coursed through him. He had always had a soft spot for trouble black haired Shadowhunters after all, he thought amusedly. Tiberius opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, apparently trying to come up with words that refused to come out, he brought his hands to caress the trunk of the tree, most likely to ground himself. He drew a few deep breaths and made eye contact with him. “What do you mean by Kit’s confession?” Magnus had been startled by this question, but he could see nothing other than innocent and impatient curiosity adorning the boy’s features.

Ty seemed to notice his confusion and proceeded: “Livvy said something about Kit telling me something the night before your wedding, when we performed the ritual. She made it seem like it was something important, but I cannot remember, and neither can she. I have been replaying that day in my head and it is like that part of the memory is missing, I fear that I did something that hurt Kit so much that he had to leave. At first I had thought that it was because of the necromancy, and I could understand that, I understand that it was wrong, but if I did something else that made him go away, I would never be able to forgive myself”. He blinked repeatedly, trying to stop the tears from coming out, his gaze going up to look at the stars as he tried to even his breaths. He finally dropped his gaze to meet Magnus’ and he was looking shocked, but he quickly regained himself and said, “What do you mean by Livia not remembering either?”

“She’s been experiencing mental gaps and cannot remember certain events. She seems to have some of her memories linked to mine, so she only remembers Kit screaming, and that he seemed desperate to stop me, but it is like she cannot understand the words he was saying, she just knows that it was important and that it was about me.”

Magnus’ eyes seemed to be popping out of their sockets and his mouth was agape. “So, you mean to tell me that you do not remember that conversation?”, Ty fixed him with a blank stare as he said “That’s what I’ve been trying to say, Magnus. I cannot remember, will you tell me?” The High Warlock seemed hesitant, adding: “I do not think it is my place to say, Tiberius, it was something… personal.” Ty looked conflicted, running both of his hands through his hair, making it look disheveled as he placed them down and nodded with a sad look on his face. Magnus felt lost, he really did not want to pry, but he had a feeling that he knew what was happening and he wanted to help. It was almost his duty as his husband’s people, were his as well now that they were married. With that in mind, he plopped on the ground after spelling a blanket –he would do anything to make Tiberius feel better, but he would not be ruining his new designer jumpsuit while doing it, thank you very much--, he patted the spot next to him and waited until he sat down with him.

He seemed to be lost in his thoughts, and Magnus could only think about the expression that Kit would make when he told him that he had spoken to Ty, whenever he was mentioned, the young Herondale tried to play it off as if he was not affected, but none of the members of his family were known for being able to hide their true feelings once they had found their one. Shadowhunters loved once after all, and he had a feeling that Kit knew he had found his but had been too afraid to fight for it. Now, after having heard Tiberius say that he did not remember Kit’s confession, he felt the need to investigate a little further, he was sure Arthur would agree with him.

Trying to wipe the grin from his face, he asked “Do you miss him?”, it took him a minute to respond but he finally said: “I do, too much in fact, ever since he left its like there is something missing, I left the institute thinking that being there, with all the memories of the time we spent together was the problem. And I just can’t understand, he stayed at the institute with us for a few months and, even now, after years of not seeing him or hearing from him, I still catch myself looking for him after hearing a joke he would have loved, or startle whenever I think I saw him from the corner of my eye. It feels almost like he never left, even if he did, because I was never able to stop thinking about him.” He turned his head to the side to see Magnus, who seemed to be extremely focused in his thoughts, his hand blocking his lips, and his eyes closed as he took a long breath. He opened his eyes and Ty could see the corner of the High Warlock’s lips tilting upwards, before quickly forming a straight line.

“Have you ever heard about the time Alec and I broke up?’” Ty felt both of his eyebrows rise in surprise, he would have never thought something like that could happen as they appeared to be absolutely in love, so he shook his head in denial. Magnus proceeded to recount his story: “When Alec and I started dating, he was still in denial over being gay, I stood by his side and supported him however he needed, as a friend at first, until we finally made things official. I was elated but would not open up about my past. You see, I had been very hurt before and I just wanted to live in the moment.” He stopped, remembering those bittersweet days. To that, Ty said, “I would have also wanted to know more about your past, he must have wanted to show you that he cared, that he wanted to get to know you, the real you.”

This made Magnus smile and continue “You are right, and Alec was too. But I was not prepared, I kept avoiding the subject and my ex-girlfriend took the chance to offer Alec the knowledge that I refused to disclose, she even offered to take away my immortality to make it so that we would grow old together.” He stopped once again, only for a second this time as Ty’s expression made him laugh with his eyes open wide and his jaw threatening to drop to the ground.

“He said no, do not worry. But it had been a trap. Camille wanted to break us up and staged the whole thing to make it seem as if Alec was trying to take her up on her offer, I was devastated, and broke things off thinking that it would be for the best. But it was not. I had had multiple relationships in the past, but no breakup ever hurt as much as that one, I could not eat, sleep, even shower –I probably should have skipped that one, oh well; he thought-- without his image popping up in my head. I also thought he would be better off, a gay relationship was hard enough for the Clave to accept, much more so if it was with a downworlder. But, as time went on, my voicemail became full of Izzy’s, Jace’s, Simon’s, even Clary’s messages. They would all say that he was doing terrible, that he would not eat nor sleep, would go on patrol with no weapons, putting himself in danger, almost as if he was trying to get the physical pain to overpower the emotional one, and I ignored them every time. Yet I could not bring myself to delete them. It was not until I received one last message from Alec. He had sent plenty before, apologizing, but he sounded completely ruined in this one, and I could feel my heart bleeding with every word, it had been months and I could still picture his face perfectly as he said those words. At that moment, I realized that no love would ever compare to the one that we had. After that, I had planned on going to him but got kidnapped, so I had been sure I would die until Alec came to save me and from then on we lived happily ever after.” He clapped his hands as he finished, a proud smile on his face and a happy sigh leaving him. Ty threw a confused stare his way while saying: “But you have only been married for four years.” Which resulted in Magnus laughing and telling him that it was an expression that fairytales used when a couple found their happy ending. Ty nodded in understanding as seemed to get lost in thought.

Magnus let him have his time while he sent a few heart emojis to Alec. Even if they had just been together a few hours prior, the walk down memory lane really made him miss his husband as his heart grew three more sizes with the way their love story was turning out to be. He sighed happily as he received a selfie to his phone with Alec, Max and Rafe smiling to the camera. Despite all his years, he would have never imagined being as happy and as he was right now. Not even in his wildest dreams had he dreamed of finding someone as perfect as his Alexander, and he was determined to make the most out of the time they had together. He knew that Alec was it for him and that, when he lost him, he would love no other like he had his Shadowhunter. It was this realization that prompted their marriage, Magnus had never thought it would happen for him, but it did and he was eternally grateful for it.

He finally lifted his gaze from his phone and almost felt his heart break a little more over the expression on Ty’s face, he looked broken, his eyes reminding him of the sorrow he had seen in the young Herondale’s eyes a few years ago while he told him about his confession to the Blackthorn boy and how he had simply ignored him and moved on with the ritual. If there had been any doubt about Ty’s feelings to this point, there were none now, he felt conflicted as he wanted to hug the boy, offer him the comfort he knew he must be needing, but did not know want to scare him out of the memories he seemed to be immersed in, nor he knew how to do it with Ty’s dislike for physical touch. He started singing a lullaby his mom used to sing to him when he could not sleep --before she found out about his demon blood, of course--. He had seen the headphones and knew that he used them to block out the outside world once he became overwhelmed with it, he did not know if it would work as Ty had made his mind an escape from the world around him, and he was not sure that he would be able to get to him there. At first, he thought it was for naught, Ty showed no distinct signs of noticing, but after a while he started moving his fingers to the tune. While he was still in his head, he appeared to have gone past the painful memories with the way that his eyes seemed to be shining with a fondness that Magnus was sure was not directed to the grass in front of them and the softest smile that was almost imperceptible; suddenly, his face contorted into a scowl and he turned to Magnus.

“Wait. Why are you telling me this?”

Magnus blinked a few times before laughing out loud. He got a hold of himself quickly though, as he did not want to make Tiberius feel as if he was making fun of him. “I am sorry, I was just not expecting that question.” He said as he wiped a tear from his eye. The young Blackthorn was still looking at him with an exasperated look, making the High Warlock sigh as he explained: “Just like me, Kit was taught to not trust anyone around him, to close himself up to avoid getting hurt by those he cared about. You see, the more you care about someone, the stronger is their control over your emotions; your reaction, of course, is your responsibility. But that level of control can be a very scary thing for a boy who thought he had nothing but himself. That mentality is what drove me away from Alec. I’m not saying that that’s what made Kit leave either, but you should consider the effect you have on other people from time to time, Tiberius. I am not saying that it was your fault either, just so we are clear, I believe you were both very confused and should discuss it the next time you see each other again.” He risked a glance at Ty and saw him gasp slightly at the thought, his eyes opening a little in alarm, but with a hopeful glint to it; a light blush painting his cheeks. “It is very important that you have figured out your feelings and thoughts towards him before that though, that way it will all be easier for the two of you to talk about it.”

Ty nodded along after hearing this, muttering silent words that he could not understand but seemed to be helping him relax. Magnus was quite pleased with the night’s events, even if he was sure that Catarina would try to annihilate him as soon as she found him, but he was not so worried as he knew she would forgive him once he told him that he had been helping Tiberius, that woman had such a soft-spot for him that it almost rivaled his own with the Herondales, the one she had been nagging him about for centuries. He made sure to make fun of her for this as often as he could –vengeance truly is a dish best served cold, after all--. “I should be going back to the party”, he said as he got up and started walking back before he felt the young boy tug at his sleeve, making him turn back and turning his gaze on him; seeing him looking up at him with eyes wide as saucers, his gray eyes shining under the night sky and a small smile on his lips. “Thank you”, he said, and Magnus swore right there that he would never make fun of Catarina again.

Magnus made a bow as he said “You are very welcome, young Blackthorn. Please let me know if there is anything else I can help you with in the future, I would be more than happy to assist.”, followed with a wink and a smirk. At that, Ty brought his hand up to Magnus, and he took it, helping him up. Once he was standing, he dropped the warlock’s hand and looked him straight in the eye, an innocent smile on his face that Magnus was sure meant trouble as Tiberius opened his mouth and said: “About that… “

Chapter Text

              Tessa is sitting by a window, a cup of tea at her side, and a book in hand. Mina’s giggles over her playtime with Jem warming her from the inside as it has been a very trying time for the little girl to adjust to not having her brother around to spoil her at every second of the day. Tessa and Jem had been worried when Kit moved in with them, as he had been an only child all of his life and they had feared that he would not want to leave the place he had come to know as his new home once he knew that they were expecting a baby, making him a big brother as they made sure to get him to understand that they wanted him to be a part of their family. However, he had agreed without a second thought. At the time, they had no way of knowing just how drastically he would change their lives, they could only feel the weight being lifted off their shoulders and like they could finally breathe and settle down once and for all.

              They had been looking for the Lost Herondale for so long, so long that, for a second, they had even thought they had reached a dead-end, following ghost steps that led nowhere, following the trail of a story long gone, the last breath of a mystery legend long forgotten even by those who preceded the time of the angels. They had heard every version of the tale by now, and Kit had not been able to provide any answer to their questions, much to their chagrin. Most of what they knew by now was the product of observation and hard work on the young boy.

              It was to be expected, really, the poor boy had barely even made peace with the fact that he had angel blood, and was also a member of one of the most well-known and respected Shadowhunter families to then learn that he also possessed seelie blood, had magic powers that allowed him to make people disappear and that he was the heir destined to unite all of Faerie. That would be a lot for anyone to take in, and she could not imagine how Christopher had felt at the time when it all finally dawned on him. They tried to make him feel included, like he could trust them and lean on them with his problems; but the young Herondale seemed averse to their advances, like he had once let his guard down in a similar situation and had had his heart broken as a result. They could see it in the pained twitch of his mouth whenever he refused to eat with them, watch a movie or do game night with them.

              It took them a long time to get him to stop spending every hour of the day in his room, sequestered in it, only going out for trips to the bathroom or to grab his food and quickly retreating, making sure not to stay long enough to strike up a conversation with the couple. If not for these basic necessities, they would have been unable to tell that he had not escaped, they could not hear any sound coming from his room at first during the day, and they had planned on giving him time to adjust, to mourn the separation from the Blackthorns. At night though, it was a completely different story, one that Tessa tried not to think about as the memory still pained her deeply, the screams haunting her awake and sleeping dreams, they did not know what to do other than try to support him from a distance, the young boy kept pretending that there was nothing wrong, that he was perfectly fine. Until it happened.

              It had started by him not finishing his food, trying to conceal the leftovers he threw in the trash by bunching some napkins over it so that they wouldn’t notice, he then started to get eyebags so huge and purple that, had they not been checking in on him regularly, making sure he was still in his room to see if he needed anything, they would have thought were the result of a fight. Jem even tried to joke about him being on a fight club, he had been trying to get familiar with pop culture and references in an effort to get closer to the boy, to no avail. Kit simply shrugged and made excuses for them, he had been reading all night –even if they all knew that Kit was not a reader--, he fell while exercising, he woke up like this. They became worried enough to try and ask if they could help him in any way, trying to offer him comfort, and he had said no. After that, they had thought that he was getting better, only to then learn that Kit was an phenomenal actor, he had simply started to throw the leftovers through the window instead of the bin and had taken the ice cubes from his drinks to diminish the eyebags, hiding the problem from them so that they would not bother him about it. It would have worked had he not finally collapsed one day on his way down to take his food.

              Tessa and Jem had felt so disappointed in themselves, they were about to become parents and they could not take care of the boy they had been looking for forever, failing to notice what they now could see were pleas for help. After that, they decided that they needed to make some changes, they had given the young Herondale enough time but he had still not come to trust them, so they decided that perhaps he needed them to trust him first, and they did. They allowed themselves to show their vulnerability to him, to show him that they cared about him and that they were sorry if they had let him down. What had started as a confused look morphed into a guilty one. He would not reveal what he had gone through or what had led to him collapsing, but he promised that from then on, he would try to make an effort to be present in their family.

              From that point forward, they no longer ate alone and Kit started to keep the door open unless he was sleeping or changing. He also asked Jem to help him with his training as he had heard that Carstairs and Herondales dated all the way back to centuries before, Jem had barely been able to suppress the sob at the comment and quickly agreed. Kit had also taken to learning the Piano, ever the Herondale, Tessa thought. He was a natural, able to deliver quite impressive performances despite his inexperience with the instrument; he was able to pour such a melancholic and sorrowful tone to each piece that Jem had almost been moved to tears on more than one occasion while they were practicing.

              She had felt a little jealous of this relationship until, as the months went by, he became more attached to her after one day that he found her in the library. During the last two trimesters of her pregnancy, the library had become her refuge, the place she claimed and was stationed after becoming so big that she could no longer walk around like she was used to. She felt at peace near her books and it seemed like the baby also liked to be surrounded by them, the smell of the burnt candles, leather and ink calming her down. She had been reading one of her favorite books, the Sherlock series by her good friend Arthur. It was one of her dearest possessions as it made her feel close to him even if he had been long gone.

              As she recounted his adventures in her head, she noticed that the young boy was leaning on one of the bookcases, almost hiding behind it, looking at her with a guarded and curious gleam in his eye. She had motioned with her hand for him to get closer and asked: “Do you need anything, dear?” Tessa was naturally a very caring and loving person, and she tried to make it clear to the boy that she loved him despite the short time he had been with them. At first, he appeared a little awkward about these displays of affection, but he had come to get used to them, now showing a shy smile and blush that he tried to hide, unsuccessfully, whenever she showered him with them, she wanted to make sure that he knew how happy they were to have him with them, and she meant every word that left her mouth.

              She could not imagine her life without him as much as she could not imagine life without the little baby that was growing inside of her, or Jem. He reminded her of every beautiful memory she had shared with the Herondales of her past, but also surprised her with how different he could be from them, and she meant that in the best way possible. Even if he shared their affinity for the dramatics, the emotional unavailability they used to protect themselves, and their fierce loyalty; he always diverted from the norm in the most unexpected and interesting ways, and she found herself looking forward to learning everything that made him different from what she had come to expect.

              As Kit moved towards her, she noticed the guarded look on his face steeling to a blank one, making sure to block any trace of the emotion he had been displaying before with such practice that she almost thought she had imagined the expression from before. He sat at her side, and she turned to face him, only to have the boy back away to leave more space between them. She frowned slightly at the action and was about to ask what was wrong until she saw Kit’s eyes trained on her belly, his hands opening and closing as if he thought that him being near her would somehow hurt the baby and she decided to give him some time to gather his thoughts and relax. They had noticed that the poor boy was terrified over the prospect of having a little sister, like he had such a distrust in himself that he was sure that he would harm her by simply breathing in Tessa’s direction. Tessa had walked in on him several times, sneakily reading her motherhood magazines, claiming that he was bored and that he just wanted to kill some time while he was waiting for them. But she knew that he wanted to be prepared when the time came for him to meet the baby.

              Herondales, she thought. Having been married to one and a mother to a few, she knew a little too well how proud they could be and how high their emotions ran at all times. However hard they tried, they could never conceal their kind and self-sacrificing nature, no matter the tough and snarky front they pulled in front of the others. Kit had not even completely adapted to his life at Devon, or to them for that matter, but he was already fearful of hurting his sister as if he was some sort of disease that killed everything and everyone that came across. She could only guess that this is what had led to him leaving with them after the battle. They had witnessed the sorrowful glaze, the deep, tempestuous, merciless blue of his eyes threatening to drown him whole as his knuckles were turning white and a little purple over his grip on the palm tree he seemed to be using as a life force, trying to draw from it the strength to leave the family he had formed in Los Angeles behind without looking back.

              They had tried to get him to say his goodbyes, but he had outright refused with a sharp tone and a haunted look in his eye which he made sure to reign in once he realized that he was showing his true feelings to what he considered strangers despite them knowing more about him than he himself knew about his ancestry. He clearly did not trust them at the time, he had been trained to never show weakness by a father who had, to his last day, tried to keep him a secret to the public so that he would not be used as bait against him.

              Rook had not been known to be the doting type of father, he was widely known to be conniving, conceited, and incredibly condescending person, the perfect con. He had managed to build a reputation strong enough to keep him and his son protected even if he was only a mundane in a sea of downworlders. But that had come at a price, the discontent of the hundreds, if not thousands, of people whose secrets had been disclosed or who had bought false information at too high of a price over the years got him to a point where he could no longer go out of his house without fearing for what might be lurking in the shadows at every turn.

              He soon became overwhelmed with fear, to the point that he reached out to his most powerful clients to collect some favors he was owed. After that, apparently the tension was relieved, but he still kept his son close, physically at least. Emotionally, he became even more distant, Christopher had surely taken it as a sign that he was a burden, always a Herondale, but Tessa thought that maybe Johnny had wanted to make it seem as though he did not care about his son to keep his enemies away from him. He had obviously done a splendid job; someone should have given him a freaking Oscar for outstanding performance as even his own son had not been able to see through his act. The half-warlock felt furious whenever she noticed the everlasting effects of this treatment in Christopher’s reactions.

              She had no evidence that suggested that Rook had been physically abusive, but he seemed suspicious of affection, almost wary, like he thought he was undeserving of it or questioned where it was coming from and why. She felt pride as she could no longer detect that kind of look in Kit’s eyes toward them, but she could still see it when anyone outside of their family was nice to him.

              Once Kit no longer seemed on edge, she tried again to start a conversation with the boy but noticed that he was not paying attention to what she was saying. Instead, his eyes were glued to the book in her hands and she asked him if he wanted to borrow it. Again, defying the norm, he said he was not a big fan of reading, but would like to hear her read the story, his eyes showing excitement and fear in them, which she assumed was a product of him not wanting to bother her with what he assumed were menial requests. They had repeatedly stated that they wanted him to voice his wants and needs and, if possible and legal –they made sure to stress this part strongly, earning them an eyeroll from the boy--, they would do their best to fulfill them as his happiness was important to them, but “old habits die hard”, he said with an awkward shrug.

              That week, she read the whole series to a completely different Christopher, one that stayed there with her even after they had finished it. He opened himself up to her and finally dared to ask her to teach him how to control his magic. Tessa had been over the moon because of this, she had wanted to respect his boundaries but she had wanted to make sure that he would be safe in whatever context or situation he could find himself in, which, for a Herondale, would most likely mean a dangerous or troublesome one, and, if not, he would make it this way accidentally. From all of the things that made a Herondale, that was one she had hoped his upbringing as a mundane would have changed, but that seemed to be unavoidable, and she wanted to make sure that he was prepared for whatever came his way.

              They had to put their training on pause when Mina was born and, despite his previous reservations, he proved to also be a natural with kids, Jem had taken to jokingly calling him the baby whisperer from time to time as he had a gift at putting Mina to sleep or getting her to stop crying on her particularly difficult and tiring days of doing nothing and asking –more like screaming-- to be fed. From the second that her little hand enveloped Kit’s pointer finger, the change had been drastic, he wore his emotions on his face whenever his sister was near, which was all the time and he seemed happier than he had been ever since he moved in with them. He learned lullabies on piano and even tried to paint Mina’s room with different cartoons, he seemed to be quite fixated with stars, always making them the highlight of his works, she kept telling him that stars were not metallic silver, but he would never change their color. He would paint them everywhere, even if the picture was in broad daylight, and whenever he was painting them or admiring his work, she could almost feel herself the longing that was displayed through his eyes.

              She felt tiny, as if she were an ant and this feeling emanating from him the ocean, sweeping her from shore and leaving her stranded in a forgotten island in the middle of nowhere with no way back to Jem. She wondered if it was possible that Kit could charge the air around him with pure and raw emotion as she could not understand how else would she become so affected as she saw the boy become overwhelmed with his long-repressed feelings.

              She had tried to ask him about it, they had become incredibly close after they started reading together, she preferred to read in silence; but, whenever she saw Christopher step into the library, it was like a switch was turned on and she immediately started reading out loud, her heart singing in joy as she saw through the corner of her eye the way Kit relaxed into his usual spot, right beside her leg, he was always cold and liked to be closer to the fire that was in front of them. As time went on, he grew more comfortable and started leaning his head lightly on her knee, until he eventually started resting his head on her lap as soon as he sat next to her.

              As time went on and he grew more comfortable, she noticed that Kit was very tactile, whenever he experienced any strong emotion, he would show it through touch. For example, when he felt positive feelings, like fondness or happiness, he could not keep his hands away from the other person for long, depending on the magnitude it could be as little as a pinch to the other’s side or cheek, or as huge as jumping into the other’s arms to envelop them in a hug; when the young Herondale felt negative emotions, he wrapped his arms around him, almost as if he was shielding himself or trying to keep his feelings inside of him, as if the hurt that was visible in his eyes would escape through his very pores. On particularly bad occasions, he would unconsciously pinch his arms hard enough to leave bruises, in what they could only assume was a desperate tactic to distract himself from his thoughts and feelings.

              Tessa could not help but feel for the boy, he felt everything so deeply and she was not sure if the combination of drama from the Shadowhunters’ side and the mysteriousness of the Seelies were a good mix with his upbringing. No matter how many layers he had brought down, it was clear that there were still some in place, ready to shield him from the disappointment he had come to expect throughout his life. However, in moments like those, when they were both snuggled close, her reading aloud to her favorite books and him smiling softly against her dress skirt at the sassy remarks of his most beloved characters or him hugging her knees in particularly dramatic, suspenseful or sad scenes that she knew that he was happy here, with them; that the feeling of not belonging was gone for the most part, she was not delusional enough to believe that they had disappeared, but felt satisfaction in the thought that he allowed himself to be vulnerable with them, that he trusted them and was comfortable enough to show his soft side around them, and that made her heart melt every time.

              When Christopher had come to them asking her to create a portal for him, she had been surprised, he had barely gone out of their house after Mina was born, and despite their apprehension, they could not deny the boy’s wishes. It had to be something important for him to overcome his pride and ask for help, he rarely ever did it as he felt as if they had already made a lot of adjustments for him and he did not want to be a bother to them. Also, he had had such a hopeful and terrified look in his eye that she would have had trouble saying no to him. Luckily, the boy reassured her by saying he would be going to the New York Institute and that he would tag along with Jace on a mission. It had been only three days, but it felt like an eternity already for the Carstairs.

              The boy had such a way of winning one’s heart without even trying, one day he was that child they had been looking for, the Lost Herondale, the First Heir, and the next, he was their child. Jem and Tessa had been trying to be strong for Kit, to support his branching out, it was natural, he could not be expected to stay with them forever after all, he was to become a Shadowhunter, but that did not mean that they would not miss him any less because of this, even if he was only leaving for a few weeks. Mina, however, was inconsolable, she would not leave the plushie that Christopher had bought her for her third birthday, it was almost as big and heavy as her, but it was the only thing that appeased the little girl while she was coping with her brother’s absence.

              Today, she seemed more at peace with the matter, she started behaving better once she received a letter from Kit, who apparently was missing her just as much. Mina had been elated to hear about her brother and asked Tessa repeatedly to read it to her, excitedly bouncing on her lap as she leaned her head on her shoulder, it seemed as if she was trying to read the letter for herself even if she did not know how to read yet a focused look in her face and a frown adorning her features as her eyes scanned the paper. Tessa leaned her head on the little girl’s until she eventually fell asleep. Tessa carried her to her room to put her in bed, covering her and the teddy bear, and leaving her night light on. She was still scared of the shadows that the trees outside of her window cast under the moonlight. Kit had managed to make her feel a little calmer about it, claiming that he would always protect her against any monster that tried to come her way, but, with him gone, she had been having trouble sleeping on her own, always needing the plushie and at least one of them to keep her company while she dozed off.

              She made her way out of the room and closed the door as silently as she could and once the door clicked, she leaned her forehead on the door and allowed herself to laugh a little over Mina’s antics. Tessa had been trying to pretend as if she did not notice how hard she was trying to stay awake, to listen, for what felt like the hundredth time, to the same letter, a light shining in her eyes every time she heard her mother reading about how much Kit missed her and how he would bring back gifts for her. She shook her head in amusement as she walked downstairs to go back to the library when a knock on the door made her change direction. She was confused as she had not been expecting any visit and no one ever stopped by their house to ask for anything as she had placed a glamour to make it look a little menacing to prevent this kind of thing from happening. She approached the door and took a look through the peephole and the image that greeted her made her lift one of her eyebrows and bite her lips shut in an impossible attempt to not announce her presence and break the scene that unfolded at the other side.

              Magnus Bane was at the door and seemed to be having a difficult time trying to calm the boy that accompanied him, at first Tessa thought him to be Alec, as he had black hair and was almost as tall as the warlock. However, once she took a good look at him, she discarded that idea, the boy looked much younger than the Consul, and seemed to be purposefully putting distance between them, fidgeting restlessly and muttering words too quietly to make out. However shy Alexander Lightwood might have appeared to be the first time she met him, that was no longer him; he had outgrown that version of himself and stood proud alongside his husband, barely leaving his side unless it was absolutely necessary. He had become everything the Downworld had lost hope on what Shadowhunters should be, and the fact that they chose him as their representative spoke volumes of the direction they were taking.

              Magnus, on the other hand, had always been confident, unapologetic, and authentic to a fault, always displaying his more arrogant and snarky side to others. While she knew how most of this was merely a façade to keep himself distant for, no matter how many centuries passed, the High Warlock could never refuse to help those who came to him for aid despite the heartbreak that always followed, be it by betrayal or the death of the mortals that he inevitably becomes attached to; that was not the version he was showing at that moment, this one was the real him, so she felt more intrigued to know the identity of this other person. Tessa had known him for a very long time, and even so, she had never seen him act like this towards another person, he seemed equally amused at the other’s behavior as he seemed concerned about how to approach the other in a way that would make him feel better, Tessa could almost see the smoke coming out of his ears and how nervous he was in his face and felt a rush of affection towards the high warlock, always trying to help everyone around him.

              She was very curious as to who this young boy could be but could not make it out as he was facing the warlock, his back to the door. In that moment she realized that she was doing exactly what she used to nag Kit about when he tried to listen on their private meetings, but the thought only made her feel closer to her boy so she let it slide, pressing herself closer to the door to hear their conversation.

              She heard Magnus say “Relax, everything will be fine, surely they did not hear that one knock I managed to do before you started freaking out on me. -- Oh, and don’t’ give me that look, you should have told me you wanted to strategize before portalling here.” The other boy brought one of his hands up to grab at his hair, leaned on the door and took a deep breath, “What if he hates me? What if this was a mistake?” The warlock gaped at him for a second, with a look of pure surprise that then changed into fond amusement. “Hey, everything will be okay. I assure you that he wants you back just as much. You were a team, remember? You cannot go through everything you two went through without a forming a bond. I know you don’t believe me, but I can assure you that you mean a lot to him. Ah, ah, ah! Before you say anything, I mean, sure, you guys fought and parted ways in not the best terms, but that can happen to anyone, even Alec and me from time to time, and we are happy and together as can be, you see?”

              The boy started nodding his head, seeming to take in every word that the warlock had said and started evening his breaths. Magnus exhaled and smiled at him softly and asked him if he was ready, the other laughed a little as he said “no, but I can’t wait any longer.” To which the High Warlock nodded and turned his attention to the door, knocking again, more firmly this time.

              Every cell in Tessa’s body paralyzed, she knew that she should wait a little, make it seem as if she had not been waiting by the door and hearing them, to make up a story where she had just been in the library or she had just gotten Mina to bed, but she could not think straight at the suspense of learning who this mystery boy was, and opened the door as soon as she jumped in surprise because of the knock at the door, leaving a surprised Magnus and the young boy on the floor. In her haste to find out who he was, she forgot that he had been leaning on the door and did not give him enough time to find his footing before opening it.

              She felt excitement and dread coursing through her, she was about to offer him her hand when he pulled himself up and backed away, his eyes and mouth open showing the same feelings she was sure she was displaying on her face. She took a good look at him, the boy was tall and had gray eyes like her, she felt like she knew him, but could not pinpoint how or from where. He seemed to be looking for something, his eyes darting around the place anxiously, a look of terrified excitement in his eye and a flutter in his hands that increased tenfold from what she had seen while he was talking to Magnus.

              Magnus seemed to be looking back and forth between them, and asked Tessa about Jem and Mina, trying to divert the attention to himself. Tessa turned to look at him and told him that Jem had left to buy some groceries after playing with Mina and should be coming back soon. She could see the young boy from the corner of her eye, and he seemed to be doing the same as her, she couldn’t shake off the familiarity she felt towards the other boy, so she decided to investigate further.

              She invited them into the house and led them to the kitchen, fetching some cups and biscuits and serving them tea. She knew that she had to get them comfortable to get any of them to open up. Kit had taught her a lot about negotiation and gathering information throughout their training, it was a way to get him to show his skills and make him see that they were both good in the fields they had more experience in, he just needed practice and a hundred more years to win against her in the magic department, as she had once told him after he was feeling particularly dejected over losing for the third time in a row and he had taken it very seriously. Those lessons had started years ago, so by now she knew just how to do it. She took out Mina’s baby album and Magnus cooed at every picture, she could talk about her all day and she used it to her advantage as she knew how elated the high warlock was over being a father; Once they finished with hers, Magnus started taking out his albums and showing them to her.

              From the corner of her eye, she kept stealing glances to the boy, she could tell that he had not relaxed at all, he had not even feigned interest on the baby photos and looked more on edge than when he had fallen to the floor. He was jumpy, every sound putting him on alert and tensing him up, though he kept trying to conceal these reactions from them. She felt bad for him and thought that she should offer him more tea or something, she now understood Magnus’ expression and hesitance from before, she too felt the need to make him feel better, comfortable, her investigation could wait. As she turned to do that, she finally took a closer look at him and the look that he had on his face revealed such a longing that left her feeling breathless, she could recognize that look anywhere as it was the same one her son had on his face whenever a particular Blackthorn was mentioned.

              She felt a jolt in her heart as she gasped out loud. How could she have missed it? The jet-black hair, gray eyes like hers and the fluttery hands. It was Kit’s Ty; he had been talking about him at the door and he had been turned into a nervous breakdown because of her son. She opened her mouth and closed it, not knowing what to say. Unfortunately, her brain had always been faster than her body, and she could not contain the “By the Angel! You are Kit’s Ty, are you not, dear?”

              To this, the room grew silent as Tiberius turned his head quickly to face her, his cheeks turning crimson as his eyes turned confused, sad, hopeful, all at once, his face forming a confused scowl at the words. Catching herself, she quickly apologized saying “I’m sorry, I mean, you are Tiberius Blackthorn, right?” The boy blinked repeatedly, and nodded slightly, turning to Magnus for help, his hands fluttering incessantly by his sides. Magnus took over and said: “Tessa, yes, this is Tiberius and we are here because we wanted to see if we could talk to Kit for a while, maybe take him out to eat?” while casting a look at Ty for approval, to which he scrunched his nose and shook his head with a judgmental look in his eye that Tessa could not help but laugh at. Magnus rolled his eyes and continued “we just want to talk to him, could you tell him we are here?”

              Tessa had been expecting this, having figured out the subject of their earlier conversation, but she had not considered the fact that he was not there, too preoccupied trying to identify the boy. She turned to see each of them for a few seconds, going back and forth with her mouth agape, she finally stuttered in a silent voice “but he’s not here” to which the high warlock deflated in defeat. The raven-haired, for the other part, seemed to have expected this outcome and said as much. Tessa asked, genuinely perplexed: “How did you know?” to which the young Blackthorn smiled a little, leaned on his chair as he started saying:

              “First of all, he would have gone down by now as you and Magnus have been talking way too excitedly for Kit to not become curious and pretend to want to grab a glass of water or something to know what is actually going on, and peep on the conversation. Also, I noticed that there was no jacket or sweater in the holder that would fit him and he has always been incredibly sensitive to cold weather, so he would not go out without it, I thought that maybe he was still somewhat disorganized so I also looked for one hung up in any chairs or sofas nearby, even the floor but found none. Lastly, I couldn’t help but notice that you are using his cup, which he would definitely object to if he were around but you would grab because you missed him and wanted to feel closer to him, so maybe he has been gone for a few days considering your eyebags and the fact that Jem went to fetch the groceries, Kit always loved to go shopping as it reminded him of his days at the market, so he would have tagged along and you would have mentioned it before.”

              As he finished, he seemed to realize that all the attention was directed at him, hunching his shoulders to appear smaller. Tessa turned to look at Magnus and they shared a smile at a memory she was sure the other had in mind as well. Tessa snapped out of the memory and told Tiberius “That was quite an impressive deduction. You know, you remind me of a very good friend of mine from back in the day.” The boy had an incredulous look in his eye and asked her about him. She proceeded to tell him about his way with words, written and spoken, how he developed a story and kept it ridden with mystery, how he had managed to create a character that continued being beloved even if he had been long gone.

              Tiberius seemed entranced by her tale and asked about the name of the author, to which she replied “Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, you remind me of one of his creations you know?” and the look that the young boy got on his face was of pure happiness, it was the first time she ever saw him as unguarded and joyous, and she regarded him amusedly as he showered her with questions about his apparently favorite author. She had been delighted to answer, Shadowhunters rarely knew about him as they did not tend to appreciate mundane literature as they should, but Tiberius proved to be a completely different case, throwing comments here and there about things he had researched about his life. Magnus had gone with Jem to play with Mina after he returned from the supermarket and she stayed with the gray-eyed boy, before she knew it, a few hours had gone by, their conversation had been exhilarating as it had been a while since she had been able to debate with someone that shared her interests and had such a deep and intricate knowledge about them.

              She offered them dinner and to stay the night as it had surely been a long day for them if the look on their faces was anything to go by. They accepted and they ate dinner while they all heard Mina recounting Kit’s letter and all their adventures together. Ty was very good with her and she was elated to be receiving so much attention, Tessa had a hard time feeding her as the toddler refused to stop talking, claiming that they “deserved to know everything that happened to her while trapped in the high tower”, to which Magnus lifted an eyebrow in amusement and Ty tilted his head, frowning, he seemed about to ask her about what she meant, but was stopped by a light kick beneath the table. He turned his head to Magnus and saw him signal with his eyes to the little girl, who was yawning so big that he was almost impressed that her jaw did not crack. At the sight of this, Tessa lifted Mina up and took her to bed and Jem showed them to their rooms. They had discussed over dinner that he would be taking Kit’s and Magnus the extra one they had for guests.

              As Tessa came out of Mina’s room, she could hear Jem and Magnus talking in the guest room, and she decided to give them time alone to catch up, she was also incredibly tired, the day had completely drained her, emotionally and physically. As a mother, she was no stranger to missing her kids, but she could not shake the feeling that there was something different about this adventure, and Kit provided little to no answers to her questions. She rounded the corner, sighing, and noticed that Tiberius was still in front of Kit’s bedroom, the door was open, and his knuckles were turning white over how hard he must have been clutching the doorknob. He did not seem to mind, though, he was transfixed on the image before him, his eyes observing everything that Kit’s room had inside.

              Ty seemed to be unaware of her presence, so she cleared her throat quietly in an effort to not scare the boy. He simply blinked at the noise and jumped slightly at the sight of her, he averted his eyes and opened his mouth, looking for something to say that would explain his behavior, but it quickly died in his mouth as Tessa entered the room before he could even think of something to say without even sparing him a second glance. He felt relieved that there was someone with him, letting him inside. Before, he had not been able to shake away the thought of what Kit would say once he found out about him being in his room. There had been a time when he would have thought nothing of it as they had been inseparable, they would sneak into each other’s rooms all the time. This happened so often that even Kit, in all his self-conscious glory, barged unannounced to Ty’s room whenever he felt like it.

              Despite how comfortable Ty was with Kit, and showed it, the young Herondale never pushed his boundaries, always asking before doing anything new to make sure that Ty would be completely okay with it, giving him time to prepare emotionally if he was feeling nervous or hesitant. Kit never pushed him to do anything that he didn’t want to do. It had taken him years to figure this out, and he could not shake off the feeling of helplessness that washed over him. He did not regret bringing Livvy back, he had been hurt and afraid of not sharing his future with her, all those plans they had had for the future, now long gone and without any way to get them back. While he refused to feel regret over that, he did regret something about the ritual, and that was assuming that Kit was okay with it. Sure, he had asked him, and he had said yes, but only after he had threatened to do it alone. He should have known better, the Kit he had known would have never left him alone if he was planning something dangerous. He should have seen the signs, he showed clear hesitation whenever he even mentioned something that could be related to the ritual or the materials, often questioning him about everything that could go wrong.He could now see that Kit had been afraid, and he had disregarded it, too excited to feel whole again.

              Then, everything went wrong, not only had Livvy not returned completely, but he had also lost Kit in the process, probably hurting him so badly along the way that he ran away from him and he could not even remember what was it that he had done. He could feel himself starting to panic until Tessa cleared her throat again, a concerned look on her face, Ty tried to gather his thoughts, looking for something to ground himself with, his eyes swept over every item in the room, he could feel himself spiraling until he saw it, his eyes widening at the sight and a gasp leaving his lips in surprise. There, right by his night table was a book that he had seen enough times to recognize, even if it was a different version. Before he even knew it, he was inside of the room, right in front of it. He exhaled loudly and brought one of his hands to his hair, tugging at it in an attempt to make sure that this was real.

              There, right in front of him, was a copy of his favorite book. He reached out to take it, but stopped himself, his fingers hovering over its edges, almost caressing the air that surrounded it. He was overcome with a feeling he could not describe, like he was trespassing, seeing something he shouldn’t. He turned to Tessa, who was quietly observing him from the bed, a silent look to her face, revealing nothing to him, not that he was good at interpreting emotion, but he wanted to think anyone would have a hard time with this one. Tessa patted the space beside her, and Ty took it, putting a little more distance between them, she did not seem to mind, only smiled softly to him and took a deep breath.

              Ty tried, he really did, to pay attention to what Tessa was saying, it seemed rude not to, she was their hostess, and Kit’s mom which did nothing to calm his nerves. He was not completely sure why this was something that he seemed to be so worried about, but it was. From the moment she opened the door, he had felt the need to get Kit’s family to like him, to accept him; but, of course, he was having a hard time and kept embarrassing himself, falling on his back before introducing himself, not being able to talk about anything other than animals, and freezing whenever Kit was mentioned.

              Mina seemed to like him, she had even made plans to show them their farm –which Tessa then clarifies wasn’t really theirs, but Mina had claimed it as her own and the owners did not have the heart to say no—this led to Ty being very confused for a couple of minutes and embarrassing himself further as he was disturbed by the thought of a heart that allowed people to say anything, to which Magnus explained that it was simply a new expression that he would have to commit to memory. He did not understand the need to come up with phrases that had no sense to symbolize such specific scenarios when the English language provided plenty, but that was just something else he had to accept, he supposed.

              Kit had been exceptionally good at updating Ty’s vocabulary, he had always managed to paint the picture so clearly that, even if he did not always understand his references, he could understand what he was trying to imply. At this thought, he once again felt the tug at his heart he had come to expect whenever his mind wandered to those times at the Los Angeles Institute four years ago. This one was particularly strong, enough for him to clench his hands over his chest, right where it hurt. He felt a hand on his shoulder that snapped him out of his thoughts.

              Once again, he felt dread consume him as he realized that he had completely forgotten that Tessa was in the room with him, too lost in his memories with Kit. “I am so sorry, I must be really tired, I keep getting distracted recently”, Tessa did not seem to be angry, not even annoyed, she simply nodded and asked him if he was feeling okay. Ty did not know what to say, physically, he was fine; emotionally, though, he was a mess. He sighed and shrugged, to which Tessa simply chuckled, turning her head to look at him for a few moments, she seemed to be thinking about her next words, like Julian did when he was about to say something important that he wanted to make sure he understood.

              Tessa drew a deep breath and turned her head to look at the window, though he could see that she kept looking back at him from time to time. Enough time passed that Ty thought she would not talk at all, letting a sense of security creep up within him. Suddenly, she said: “You know, when Kit arrived here, he did not speak to us for weeks. We tried to make him feel at home, asked him to join us every night for dinner, brought him every desert he loved, but it was never enough. We could see that he was sad, devastated, but we did not know what to do to help him. He was like a shell, a wounded animal, he lashed out at anyone who came close, trying to keep himself in one piece for as long as he could. For the longest time we thought it was some unfinished business that he had left behind, maybe he was running from the ghosts of his past. While I cannot assure you of Kit’s intentions, I can guarantee that leaving without saying goodbye was terribly hard for him. I should not be telling you this, but you deserve to know. That day, he asked us to take him to the wedding, to see you one more time from the other side of the beach. He seemed fine until he finally spotted you. In all my years, I have seen longing looks, being the mother of several Herondales it is impossible not to, and maybe it is because of his powers, but I could feel his pain, and it was so overwhelmingly devastating that I almost thought that the tide was taking me along with it, it was pure desperation, yearning, pain, embarrassment, and so much fear, I could not bring myself to make him go to you then, he was not ready.”

              To that, Ty asked: “Do you think he will ever be ready?”. Tessa looked at him then, and the look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know. She was not the only was who cared for her boy, outside of her family of course, and the tight feeling in her chest loosened a bit more. She had been scared when she recognized the Blackthorn kid, she knew how it would affect Kit, but she had no doubt that he had missed him as much as Kit had him. Tessa smiled softly and said: “I’m sure of it. He may still be scared to face you, but he’s had enough time to process whatever happened between you and I’m sure that, when he deems is the right time, he’ll come back to you.”

              “How can you be so sure?” Ty asked, his face incredulous at her words but his eyes shinning dimly with hope.

              Tessa sighed and shook slightly at the memory as she said: “We never told him but, the first few months, he would scream in his sleep, he would thrash around and fall from his bed in desperation. To this day it still haunts my nightmares, Jem and I would try to wake him up, but it was like he was trapped in his own personal hell, unable to get out by any other means than his own. He would always pretend the next day, becoming more playful and involved with us; it was as if he was afraid that we would leave, that he would be alone again. No matter how much he tried, the haunted look never left his eyes for long, revealing itself as soon as he became distracted, so he would avoid being stagnant like a Herondale avoids a duck.”

              “Why didn’t you tell him?” Ty asked.

              “You know how proud he can be, he would have simply pretended we were crazy and made sure that we never heard him again. We wanted to be there any way we could, even if it was without him knowing.” Ty nodded to this, an understanding look on his face while he spared a glance to Tessa, wincing slightly as he seemed to be hesitating on asking further questions.

              “Say what’s on your mind, boy.”

              Ty sighed and ran his hands through his pants, clearly on edge, “What did he scream about?”

              Now Tessa was the one wincing, she squirmed in her seat and leveled Ty with a reluctant stare before saying “He was calling out to you, Tiberius. At first, we thought it was just a memory from the battle, but then his screams became more elaborate. He kept asking you not to leave him. He would beg someone to make it stop, to punish him for Livvy, not you. Never you.”

              Ty sucked in a breath so harshly that he nearly choked, his hands were fluttering like wild snakes now, and his face was as white as paper. Tessa held out a hand to him, and Ty jumped back, clearly not comfortable with physical touch. Her mother instincts kicked in and the only thing she could think about was distracting the poor boy from the panic attack he was clearly experiencing. She produced an orb, making it float around the room, making it change color to keep the boy entertained. It seemed to be working, his breathing steadying as the minutes passed, and his eyes widened slightly when the orb floated near a corner of the room, though she could not see what had caused this reaction. Once he appeared to be calm enough, she magicked the orb away and waited for him to tell her what to do.

              He seemed to be lost in thought but had a calmer look in his face this time, more nostalgic. “You know, when Kit came to the Los Angeles Institute, I had no friends other than my sister, Livvy. She had been everything I needed, and never sought for more. Then Kit came along, and he was everything I had ever wanted and never known, he gave me the life I had always thought I could never have. Throughout my life, I have continuously felt like an outsider, I have always had trouble reading people and understanding emotions, metaphors, expressions, sarcasm, and the list goes on. But, somehow, Kit just knew how to make me feel normal, even better, he made me feel like being different was what made me special, what made him go to me instead of anyone else in the room. And I felt the same towards him, he was the light in a room full of darkness, the voice that guided me through the unknown, the script I could understand in between thousands of passages that never made sense. To this day, I still don’t know what he saw in me, and I am eternally grateful for the months we spent together and regret that we grew apart the way we did, but I intend to fix what I broke, I just hope I’m not too late.”

              Tessa sat there, with her mouth agape and wide eyes. She blinked repeatedly and shook her head out of her thoughts, she chuckled slightly and said: “Wow, I was not expecting that, but… thank you, Tiberius, for trusting me with your feelings. I have to say that I was not aware of the nature of your rela—”

              “TESSA, WAIT, DON’T SPOIL IT”

              Tessa jumped as Magnus entered Kit’s room, his hand extended in a stopping motion as he ran towards Tessa, covering her mouth. Once he reached her, he sat on her lap and regarded Ty with a perfect façade of nonchalance, as if he hadn’t just barged in the middle of the night right when they were opening up to one another. Magnus started talking a mile a minute: “Tiberius, darling, you should rest, look at the time! Remember we have to wake up early to see Mina’s farm tomorrow.”

              Tessa frowned at this and started to lick the inside of his hand, but he would not move it, only showing his disgust by pinching her side. The young Blackthorn looked confused but quickly agreed, now that she looked closely, the boy looked completely exhausted, making her feel a little guilty for keeping him up so late. He started taking his jacket off and both warlocks took it as a sign to leave, both biding the boy good night and walking to the door. Before they reached it, Ty called Tessa's name, they both stopped at her name and turned to him, Magnus had always been a sucker for gossip, so she was not surprised. She tilted her head to show him that she was listening, a soft smile gracing her features.

              Ty was leaning on one foot at a time and playing with his sensory aid, Magnus had told her all about them while Tiberius had been scouring through the library. He looked up to her and said: “I wanted to thank you, for everything.” She smiled more widely at that, and said: “It was my pleasure, young Blackthorn, I am sure we will be seeing more of each other, future son-in- WOAAAH”. She had been about to wink as Magnus practically dragged her out of the room while saying “Good night, Tiberius, see you in the morning, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite!”

              Once they were both out of the room, Tessa was more confused than ever, and a little annoyed if she was being honest. She felt like she had been bonding with the boy before they were interrupted, she frowned at him and was about to ask him what had just happened, but the high warlock beat her to it, quickly whispering in an hushed voice: “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING??? You can’t say that kind of things to Tiberius!” As he said this, he rose his arms in the air and opened his eyes wide to show his exasperation. Tessa was as confused as before, she did not understand what this was all about, and said so. Magnus started laughing resignedly and uncontrollably, she thought he was going crazy, but he stopped her before she started walking to her room.

              “Listen, Tessa, I know your intentions are good, but you are misreading the situation.” Magnus had a comforting expression in his face, and Tessa was frowning harder by the minute. The high warlock rolled his eyes so hard that she felt self-conscious even if she did not understand what was happening.

              “Kitty is not canon yet” Magnus said, and Tessa thought that he was speaking in a whole different language. Magnus snorted with laughter and said “I am sorry, you should have seen your face, also, Kitty is the ship name we have made up with Alexander for your son and the young Blackthorn boy. You see, Tiberius thinks he is missing his friend, he still hasn’t realized that you do not normally become a poet every time you talk or think about another person. It is incredibly inconvenient, and sublimely cliché in the best way possible if you ask me. As you have seen, he is not the best with emotion, so I want him to discover his feelings on his own, otherwise he will freak out and the Kitty fans will have to wait longer for the ending we deserve. We do not want unnecessary drama; we just want them to be in love and happy and you are not going to ruin it, Tess.”

              Tessa stood with her mouth open, once again, and blinked rapidly, trying to wrap her head around what Magnus had just said. It made no sense, she was almost sure that it could not be true, but, as she looked back on their interaction, it started to make sense, the other boy had not mentioned anything other than a friendship, she had simply assumed that that had to be the case because it was so blatantly obvious to her, maybe it was because of all the novels she had read over the years. She covered her mouth with her hand and punched Magnus in the arm with the other, the two of them laughing quietly as they made their way to the guest room to discuss on the secret they were now sharing, tiptoeing as to not wake Mina and Jem up. She was tired, but also excited, it may take them a while to figure it out, but she had a feeling that Kit would not be sporting that longing and pained look in his eye for much longer.

              Back in Kit’s room, Tiberius had finally taken the book that was lying over the nightstand, he had been very careful, lifting it up gently and holding it close to his chest. He felt his heart pounding strongly as he made his way closer to the corner of the bedroom, where he had seen something that ignited hope within him, the feeling growing stronger as he walked closer, just to make sure, and crouched to get a better look at it.

              There, in the corner, were written over and over the following words: Whisper, Cloud, Secret, Highway, Hurricane, Mirror, Castle, Thorns, Thorns, Thorns, Blackthorns.

              Ty drew a deep breath, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart as he read them over and over again. While the first words appeared jumbled and rushed, the last looked pristine, detailed, as if they had been written with great care. His last name had a row of its own, and Ty felt a warmth in his chest at the thought of Kit writing it in the middle of the night, when the world became too much and he wanted a break from it, like they had when they discussed their favorite sounding words in the ceiling of the institute.

              He brushed the words with his fingers and saw that there were other words in that row, much softer, as if those especially were not meant to be seen, he would not have noticed it had he not done that as they appeared to have been covered with chalk, but Ty felt his breath hitch as he made out the complete set of words. He had thought that maybe it was too late, that he had ruined their relationship so much that it would be a miracle if Kit even talked to him once they reunited. Now, he was more decided than ever to get him back. He was tired of missing him, and he was going to finally do something about it.

              He lifted himself up from the ground, put the book back in the nightstand and went to bed, with a soft smile on his face as he turned to the side to see what was written in the wall, Tiberius Nero Blackthorn. The familiar pang in his chest made an appearance once again, but it was welcomed this time, he had been expecting it. He may not understand what it means, but he feels like he’s getting closer to figuring it out and finding the solution.

              His eyes started drooping, his exhaustion finally getting to him, his breathing evening out, and he was being swayed into slumber when, suddenly, he jolted up as he said “Wait, powers?”, felt dizziness taking over him as he collapsed back into bed and slept through the night.

Chapter Text

               Tiberius had always been a morning person, his mind and imagination too active to keep him in bed for longer than necessary; he had always deemed the outside world as infinitely more fascinating than whatever weird way his brain managed to process a day’s activities and information. The outside world made sense, and, if he could not find it, he could always turn to books or the internet to find the answers he was looking for. With dreams, however, this was not the case.

               It seemed irrelevant how literal Ty took everything in his everyday life, it seemed as if that part of him turned off with him when he fell asleep, as his dreams were anything but. He had a theory that they were somehow connected to the stories he had read as a child, the legends of the shadowhunters and the downworld and the text books he had read throughout his life, but he had no way of testing it, and that frustrated him immensely. It also did not help that, when he tried to google his dream’s meanings, every page had different results, which invalidated the information. Even worse, he had found a page that mentioned that it all depended on the person’s background and personality, which basically meant that he would never find a perfect and logical answer to his questions. This only served to frustrate him further as there was no way he would be finding the answers soon; he had thought about discussing them with someone, but he felt too self-conscious to go through with it.

               Luckily for him, he rarely dreamt as he took frequent naps instead of the recommended eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. He saw no point in sleeping that way, feeling as if he was more productive if he divided those hours into a carefully planned schedule that would allow him to maximize his working hours, while still getting at least the minimum recommended hours of sleep. He made sure to emphasize how this schedule was merely a suggestion, not part of his routine as he would be lying if he said that he never skipped them, he felt a little guilty whenever it happened, but most of the time it happened by accident, when he became too enraptured in his studies, experiments or activities.

               This had happened to him for as long as he could remember, if he became interested in something, there would be no reason valid enough to get him to take a break until he had finished what he was doing, until he had found the solution to what was troubling him. That was his problem with dreams, he had no way of solving the mystery of why his dreams, more frequently than not, consisted of Alice from Alice in Wonderland, for example. She would always be getting into all sorts of weird shenanigans and she always seemed to be upset with the white rabbit, either snapping at him or hiding from him. Ty did not get it, it was only trying to get to the party on time, but that was inconsequential. What really troubled him is how it made him feel, whenever he experienced those dreams, he would always wake up confused, feeling a numbness in his chest that he could not explain. It did not matter how hard he tried, he could not escape the feeling throughout the day and he became more distracted, almost like he was unable to focus on anything other than the aftermath of whatever adventure the girl and the bunny got themselves into that day. Not only did his dreams make no sense, they rendered him unable to work, which only made him hate them even more.

               He had tried to blame Livvy for it, she had been the one who had been obsessed with the movie when they were children, but he had not been forced to watch it with her. He had always enjoyed spending time with her, even if it meant having to endure the mad hatter’s terrible riddles for hours. Much to his chagrin, he had memorized the dialogue to the blasted movie even if he had resorted to reading while keeping Livvy company, watching it once had been more than enough, so the details were blurry as he had not paid sufficient attention to them at the time.

               This did not matter as he could recite the movie flawlessly from start to finish; a fact that elated his twin sister. It had actually come in handy as it would calm her whenever she was particularly upset by something. Ty had known her and understood her better than anyone, but he still had trouble finding the right words if the situation called for them. He would often resort to physical comfort, which would work most of the time; but, sometimes, when it didn’t, he would retell the story, pointing out new inaccuracies he had not mentioned before as he went, and it never failed to bring a smile to her face, and in those moments he felt complete for being able to give to Livvy a part of what she gave him on a daily basis, peace.

               The morning after arriving to Kit’s house, however, had been a completely different experience. Ty had been completely exhausted by the time they showed them their rooms, something he had forgotten momentarily due to the adrenaline rush he felt as he thought of the prospect of sleeping on Christopher’s bed. He did not understand why he was there in the first place, there were more guest rooms in the house, and Tessa had offered them to Ty as he had startled slightly when she mentioned it was Kit’s room. Before she had even finished her offering though, Ty was already shutting it down, even if they had not seen each other in years, the thought of staying in any other room felt wrong to him.

               He had felt what he assumed must have been mixed feelings, a concept he had not been able to understand completely until now. On one part, he felt curious, happy to feel close to Kit –in a way, at least, and he scrunched his face at the feeling as the other was not even there—than he had been since their times at the LA institute. On the other, he felt apprehensive, nervous. This room belonged to someone who he was not sure he knew anymore. People change over time, a fact that he had learned very clearly when his siblings returned from Wrangel Island and Faerie, respectively. They had been taken young, happy, only to be returned older, with sharper edges to them, tension riddled and with no idea of what had happened while they had been gone or how to make up for the time they had lost.

               It had taken all of them some time to adjust, the family dynamic had shifted dramatically after the Dark War, with Julian taking responsibility over the institute and their family, even for Emma, making her his parabatai to ensure that they would not be separated from each other. Ty had been worried over his brother, he took great pride in remembering most of his interactions with people –unless he was performing a ritual and the other person was saying something that could potentially break the most important relationship he had ever had apparently, he thought derisively—and, as he saw Julian grow up and assume the figure of their father, he could not help but feel guilty and concerned over him, he could not forget the memories of happy, carefree Julian playing with Emma and being teased by their older siblings. He knew Julian did it for them, and that it wasn’t like he was unhappy, but he could see that he had taken much more than he needed to from a very young age to ensure the fate of their family and he feared that it would make him collapse eventually.

               It reminded him of the legend of Icarus, which mildly upset him as he sometimes wished he had not listened so much to Uncle Arthur’s and his dad’s mythological stories growing up as this was not the case at all. Julian was not actually trying to fly, he was just too focused on everything else, everyone else, to focus on him. That being said, they did have one thing in common, their stubbornness. Ty remembered that he had always been this way, and it had only worsened as he took on an authority role, but Julian was not the best at listening to other’s opinions. He tried to, but once he was set on a path, nothing could stand in his way to achieve it, even if it meant him turning into a Nephilim and burning in heavenly fire, much like Icarus flying only to be burnt with the heat of the sun. That is where Ty wanted the similarities to stop though, he did not want Julian to endure anything that could even compare to the inevitable fall.

                Ty felt groggy, and very disoriented as he started to wake up. He could hear birds chirping outside, the wind making the tree branches rustle against each other calmly before it seemed to gather more speed, which caused the curtain to ride up and allow a few rays of sunshine to seep through the darkness that had been lulling him back to sleep. He felt calm, comfortable, and content in the warmth and scent that enveloped him. This, however, was not long-lived as he snapped his eyes open as he remembered that it was winter in the Carpathians, so it would not be likely that a ray of sunshine would be seeping through his room’s window, not to mention that birds would not be out in the temperatures they experienced during this season. The events of the last day quickly came back to him, he sprung up as soon as he realized where he was and looked for his phone to check the clock, it was 11:03 a.m. and Ty felt his eyes widening in surprise. It had easily been years since he had slept for longer than three continuous hours and he could honestly not remember the last time he had slept as soundly as he had that night.

               He spun around the room, his breathing quickening as he had no way of knowing whether everything that had happened yesterday after dinner had really happened, his brain had been too tired and he could have dreamt his conversation with Tessa, he had read that sometimes the brain conjured up conversations that the subject would like to hear, and he had liked what Tessa had to say, she had given him hope, and now he wasn’t so sure if that had even happened in real life.

               He backed up a little and stumbled upon the nightstand, hearing something hit the floor. He turned around and saw the book he had clutched the night before to ground him as he surveyed the room. He crouched down to pick it up, inspecting it to make sure it had not been damaged; he had noticed that these books were cared for, the only items in the room that had no speck of dust on them. Not that the room was messy, not that is wasn’t also, but it was some kind of organized chaos that made sense, there was a system to it that was so much like the Kit he had known that he felt his chest tighten slightly, his breath hitching a little as he made to bring his hand over his chest, before another memory came back to him.

               His heart started beating rapidly, his hands clutching at the book carefully as to not damage it. He wanted to turn, now he had a way to prove if last night had been a dream or not, but he was also scared, scared of what it would mean. If it wasn’t there, he would undoubtedly feel a little dejected and disappointed, but he would understand that his mind was trying to make up for Kit’s absence by giving him hope to continue on with his quest. But, if what he thought he could find in the opposite corner of the room was really there, he was not sure what he would be feeling. He wanted to believe he would be happy, hopeful for repairing what had been broken between him and his long-lost friend, but something else kept bothering him. If the markings on the wall were really there, if he had missed him as well, at least a little or almost as much as he had, why had he not gone to him? He had been keeping his distance out of respect over Kit’s last words to him, but what he would find once he turned around could change his entire perspective on the last few years.

               He could once again feel the conflicting emotions battling each other for dominance, he could feel his hands fluttering beside him, he tried to take long deep breaths to steady his emotions. He grunted in annoyance, he hated not being in control and Kit had always had a way of unsettling his emotions even when he was not around, that is part of the reason why he had tried to not think about him during the first few months after he had left, also because it hurt too much at the time.

               After all these years, the pain was still there, but once he had understood that he had also been responsible over this turn of events, he had focused on solving the problem. He was not sure if that would help with the pain, Livvy said it would. Ty had hesitated about reaching out to Kit for a while, but she said that maybe Kit felt the pain as well, and he had paled at the thought. The thought of Kit having to endure this pain alone was almost as devastating as experiencing it himself, and, if that was the case, he had to do something about it.  

               That memory brought him back to the present, if he turned around and found the markings on the wall, this theory would be confirmed, and he was not sure if he was ready to confront the idea of Kit dealing with this pain in a new house, away from his friends, with no one to trust and talk to; probably scared and hurt over whatever happened at the Imperishable Fields. Ty sucked in a breath, held it for a few seconds as he tried to gather his thoughts. It was of no use to him to keep on dueling on possible scenarios, he needed answers so that he could look for a solution accordingly. He hugged the book more tightly to him, as he prepared to turn around. He leaned forward a bit and rested his face on the bed, the scent that lifted off it somehow seemed to help him calm down tremendously, he had noticed the same effect the night before and had wanted to test it one more time. Once he felt his breathing settle down, he closed his eyes and turned around.

               He knew that, if it was really there, it would be visible from where he was crouching, which was a blessing as he did not think he would be able to stand up right now if the way that his hands were shaking despite their clutch on the book was anything to go by. He took few deep breaths and started mumbling his favourite words: “glass, twin, apple, whisper, stars, crystal, shadow, lilt… lilt…” He swallowed slowly, took a deep breath, and finished saying: “Christopher” as he opened his eyes.

               As he opened them, he realized that he had kept them closed for too long, his eyes having become disaccustomed to the light, the colors appearing too sharp and the lines too blurry, he squinted for a second as he tried to look at the corner, trying to see if there was something there. Slowly, he started crawling closer, and he could not hear anything over the rapid beating of his heart, his vision started getting clearer, but it was once again getting blurry. This time by the tears that were gathering in his eyes as he could start to see blurry markings on the wall. He quickly wiped his tears away, he needed to be sure that he had not imagined the words before. Sure enough, right there at the corner, were the words he had mumbled that night in the roof of the institute and every other time he had felt overwhelmed with the world.

               He felt an onslaught of emotions as his eyes landed on the last words, “thorns” was written three times, almost as if he had been debating whether or not to write what was truly in his mind. It felt almost like his heart had skipped a beat when his eyes zeroed in on his name. –he should really go to a doctor, he thought. He had looked up his symptoms online and had found that arrhythmia was common in people who had suffered stressful situations and had preexisting heart conditions, and that made sense as shadowhunters led incredibly stressful lifestyles, battling demons and all. He had mentioned it to Catarina, as he knew she had worked at a mundane hospital for years, but she had simply laughed and said that there was nothing to worry about while looking amused at his concern. -- Last night, he had not been able to see all the details on the handwriting, but he could now appreciate how much neater his name was compared to the other words, specially the first ones. There was also this weird dot over the I’s that was different to the others, but he was not sure what it meant, they looked like little v’s whereas the others had no dot over them.  

               He was more than a little confused about it but could not fight the warm feeling that invaded his chest as he once again ran his fingers over his name. He felt giddy, enveloped in a feeling that made goosebumps appear across his skin. He briefly wondered if he was perhaps allergic to dust, Kit had never quite liked to do that type of chores. The only way he ever did them was if a competition was involved, which was why they dusted their rooms together, even Livvy’s, so that the winner would be the best out of three. Ty could feel the tears gathering once again in his eyes as a brittle laughter came out of his mouth, he could not stop thinking of Kit and how special their relationship had been, of how much he missed him and how he simply wanted to find him and never let him go again.

               No one had ever made him feel as safe and comfortable, outside of his family, of course, while being so incredibly annoying, and smart, caring, witty, kind... He had never liked physical contact, even with his siblings, but with Kit it had been different, it was like there was a magnet between them and Ty could not stand too far away even if he tried, which he never did. He had even surprised himself by suddenly tucking a piece of Kit’s hair back into place or behind his ear, or standing even closer to him than he did with other people, he had even found himself memorizing his features, looking at him in the eye, even if it was not necessary, just to gauge his reaction better, and he relished in the feeling that swarmed him when he found the other already looking at him.

               Now that he thought about it, it all reminded him too much of the Tarzan movie, Jane, the cautious, intelligent and studious city girl who was fascinated with the wild, unpredictable and street-smart Tarzan –that had been Livvy’s description of Tarzan when they had tried to get Mark to watch it with them, he promptly stated that Tarzan could not be street-smart as they were in a jungle, so he would have to be jungle-smart if anything--. Much like Jane, Ty had been fascinated from the start by Kit, who had been raised his entire life in the Shadow Market, a world he had only heard of, but had never wandered to, and they had developed a connection despite their rocky start. He had really liked that movie because of the depiction of the jungle and how it had animals in it, despite the obvious inaccuracies by having them talk and balance on tea kits while doing a musical number. Also, how could it be possible that no one heard them until the very end? The whole thing had frustrated him a lot, but he had enjoyed it overall.

               He remembered how Magnus had compared his situation to when he and the Consul had broken up. He still couldn’t understand some of the things they had discussed, but he wanted to. Magnus had said that he needed to understand his feelings towards Kit, or it would make it more complicated once he got reunited with him. He was still having trouble understanding what this meant. I mean, he liked him? He really liked him, he had been the best friend he could have ever hoped for, and he had made him feel safe, like they belonged together, he had made him feel cool, confident and comfortable to speak his mind without the fear of being judged.

               He had also been incredibly interesting, he had had a way of saying things that enraptured him, Kit spoke with his body, his facial expression, his eyes, his hands, not only his voice, and it never failed to entrance him. He had a feeling that he could have heard Kit talk about anything for hours and not become bored, he had even found himself using his headphones less and less when Kit was around, he wanted to make sure that he would listen to whatever whacky idea he had next, and he felt excitement over the thought as well as pride as he saw the other looking at him to see Ty’s reactions over his comments, it made him feel like he cared about what he thought more than anyone else in the room. Ty had never been one to show his feelings on his face, but the way Kit’s face would light up in delight after getting him to laugh or smile, he had had no choice. Kit could disarm him without even trying, and he could see that the same applied to Kit. He now remembered how he was the only one who had been allowed to put a rune on him, he had been adamant at first with Julian, but he had agreed with him and had made it clear to everyone else that he would accept no runes from anyone other than him.

               He hugged the book more closely to him as he thought of all the adventures they had gone through together and felt himself smile a little. He was about to lean over the corner and open the book when he heard footsteps approaching his room. He panicked; he did not want his discovery to be found by anyone else. He was not sure if Tessa or Jem knew about it, but he felt the need to keep this a secret, only between him and Kit, like before. He scurried up and found the piece of chalk that was placed at the desk, quickly covering his name and reviewing his work to make sure that it looked like it had before. After assessing this, he opened the book as he heard the door opening and revealing a confused Magnus, he assumed he was confused as he was frowning a little, his head was tilted and his mouth was in an o-shape.

               He tried to pretend like he had been reading all along, not just opened a random page in a hurry as he leveled what he hoped would be a convincing blank stare in Magnus’ direction. He cocked one eyebrow up in question, to which Magnus said that he should go down, that Tessa, Jem, and Mina had made brunch for them. Ty quickly nodded his head, telling him that he would catch up with them soon, feeling his stomach grumble in hunger as he put the book back on the nightstand, made the bed and rechecked the state of the bedroom. He wanted to leave it as he had found it, if Kit were to find out that he had spent the night there, he was not sure of how he would react, so he wanted to at least make sure that he had no other reasons to feel upset.

               Once he was satisfied with its state, he risked a glance at the words as he took a deep breath and closed the door. He made his way to the table, where Tessa, Jem, Magnus were already cheerfully chatting while Mina ate some berries as she tried to keep up with the conversation. As soon as she saw him, she smiled widely and screamed his name in excitement. Ty could not help but remember how Tavvy had had similar reactions with all of his older siblings when he was about that age, so he felt a little humbled by the fact that she was this excited to see him, even if they had only met the day before. He took her by her arms and lifted her up to his waist, so that they would be at almost the same level. She seemed elated as she hugged him and asked him how he had slept, Ty smiled and said that he had had plenty of rest and that he was excited for the adventure she had offered the day before. Just like yesterday, he felt a weird need to get them to like him, so he was doing his best to appear as welcoming as he could.

               Mina was over the moon and was about to take him outside when her parents reminded her that she could not go on adventures without having had her brunch. She reluctantly let go of his hand and showed him to his chair, she said that she had made sure that they would be “chair neighbours” as grown-up talk would bore him and that he should sit with the representative of the “cool kids” now that Kit was not around. He cocked his eyebrow and threw an amused glance at Mina’s parents and Magnus as he sat down next to Mina. They seemed to not find the comment as amusing, but quickly dismissed it now that they were all on the table and could start eating.

               He was not sure if he was just too hungry, or if it all looked too good. It all looked perfect, like something Julian would have made for a special occasion. He could almost feel himself drooling while assessing his options, and he must have looked confused as Tessa told him that he could take whatever he wanted, however many times he pleased, to which he thanked her and proceeded to strategically place the food on his plate in a way that would allow him to try every option and still be able to go with Mina to the farm later without feeling too heavy.

               He quickly found out that it not only looked perfect but tasted incredible as he happily ate every option there was. To say that he was surprised would be an understatement, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because the food at the Scholomance was so bland and terrible, but, as they catered to a larger audience, he assumed that they had to be at least average and Julian was simply too good and no one would ever compare. Now, he had no doubts that food could be this good without being Julian’s and that the Scholomance’s food was simply awful.

               He continued eating, and thought that he would not be able to pick a favourite despite how much he enjoyed ranking random things, food being one of his favourites as it helped him organize his thoughts and it also allowed him to have an inventory of them in case a mission had them going to a restaurant and he had no idea what to order, which he thought would be incredibly suspicious for a mundane. He was not sure why, but he had a feeling that Kit would have laughed at that, and it made him feel a little better. It had never mattered how different he felt, Christopher would always be attentive and kind to him. He wouldn’t have noticed had it not been so different to how he treated everyone else, not to say that he was mean to the others, but when it was just the two of them together, he could see that he became much calmer and open.

               As he pondered over this, he picked up a little glass cup that had some kind of layered cake with a creamy filling in between and a brown dusting on top. He had never seen this type of cake before, it looked wet, but still holding its shape, so he was very intrigued about it. He picked up his spoon and tried to dissect every layer, starting with the cream and dusting on top, which he soon found out it were chocolate shavings, then he moved on to the cake layer, which was really sweet and wet as he had observed, but the syrup was a little bitter, it tasted a little bit like coffee, so it helped balance the sweetness. He had liked both layers separate, so he assumed that the final test would be to taste them together. He made sure to create the perfect bite, making sure that he had a piece of everything and that the proportions were similar, and brought it into his mouth. He widened his eyes in surprise as he had not expected the outcome. He had thought he had liked both flavours separately, but he had not expected them to complement each other so perfectly, he let out a small sound of delight as he proceeded to take more mugs to his side.

               Jem, who had been sitting in front of him and talking to his wife and friend, turned at the sound that Tiberius had made, curious about what had caused it. From the time he had known Tiberius, which admittedly was limited, he had never seen such a gleam in his eye, he looked like Mina when she had discovered High School Musical or chocolate, and he felt himself smile at how endearing it was to see the young Blackthorn acting like a kid, like he should and not like a soldier at such a tender age. It all reminded him too much of his son, and he couldn’t help but laugh a little as he realized what Tiberius was eating. This broke the other from his sugary stupor as he snapped his eyes to the former Silent Brother, now self-conscious of the show he had presented, his shoulders hunching in as he averted his eyes to his plate.

               “I’m sorry”, Ty said, “but this is really good, I had never had something like this before.” Jem seemed confused and pleased as he proceeded to say: “Oh, please, do not be sorry, Tiberius. I am really glad you liked it; we were not sure what your favourites would be so we kind of made a little bit of everything.” He laughed, seeing how the young Blackthorn relaxed a little and directed a small smile and nod to his wife and kid. He continued: “I have been trying to perfect the recipe, but Kit has always said it’s perfect as is. It’s his favourite you see, you reminded me a little of him when I saw you eating it, and I could not contain my excitement.”

               To that, Jem’s expression fell a little bit, before he cleared his throat and said: “I know he hasn’t been gone for long, but he has such a way of getting into your heart and soul, right? Like, when you least expect it, he’s there and has made himself the perfect space, in a corner you had not even noticed was there, completely undetected, and it feels like he has been there forever, almost like it had been reserved just for him. He’s just there, trying to not bother you and you cannot believe that he would think he ever would because you never want him to leave or stop being himself because he’s that special, like you had been waiting for him to appear into your lives from the very start…” 

               He had not even realized he had been monologuing until he finished, sheepishly turning his gaze to his wife, who had tears gathering in her eyes, a smile gracing her features and her hands on her chest, almost like she had been trying to stop her heart from breaking from how much they missed their son. Mina looked a little restless, surely she must be growing tired of having been sitting for so long by now as she had already finished eating, only waiting for the guests to finish as well so that she could show them the farm next door.

               He looked up to Magnus, who seemed to be lost in thought, possibly thinking of his own children as well as how close he had gotten to Kit in the past few years. He had been helping him alongside Tessa to learn to harness and control his powers, he had been making steady progress but still felt frustrated over not having mastered them completely. The only thing that had helped was when he mentioned that even his cousin, “the great Jace Herondale”, had had trouble controlling the Heavenly Fire on his own, which resulted in Jem coming back to normal from being a Silent Brother by almost being killed by it, so it couldn’t all be bad, he needed to be patient and trust that everything happened for a reason. This had helped him calm down a little and stop being so hard on himself, just a little, though, he was still a Herondale after all.

               He was feeling a little less embarrassed at his outburst until his eyes landed on Tiberius, who had placed his spoon and mug down and was looking somewhere close to Jem’s face, and had a look in his eyes that spoke of yearning, longing, of pain and memories mingling together. While his face had paled a little and he was breathing a little harshly, his eyes gleamed with some unshed tears as he had a surprised expression in his face.

               Ty felt the stares from everyone but could not entertain those thoughts at the moment, he could not bother hiding the shock in his features. Jem had put into words how he had felt about Kit from the beginning, he was rendered immobile, his mind going crazy with feelings and emotion. He could not break out of his thoughts until he heard Tessa sighing and wiping her tears on a napkin, taking her husband’s hand and saying: “He has been a blessing from the start, it may have taken us a little while to get him to accept us as his family, but he was worth every moment. He truly has such a beautiful heart. I am sure we would have tried to adopt him even if Rook had still been alive when we found him. Not only is he a wonderful son, but he has been a terrific big brother, he has a gift with people, especially children, it is like he is magical or something, I swear” she laughed as she said this but quickly recovered as Tiberius’s breath hitched, sitting up with his back straight and widening his eyes as he seemed to remember something, tilting his head a little to the side as his face scrunched in confusion.

                “What did you mean, yesterday, when you talked abut Kit’s powers?”

               The whole table turned silent at that, Jem and Magnus turned to look at Tessa with a surprised and incredulous look to their faces. It was Magnus who recovered the quickest and started doing some damage control as his hosts seemed to be in a telepathic debate about what to do, Jem with a look that could only be described as “when you talked about WHAAAT??” and Tessa’s looking like “I thought he knew!!!!” as she opened and closed her mouth quickly and shrugged her shoulders in nervousness.

               “What Tessa meant to say is that Kit is a very special kid, that he can do anything he wants to do in life, you see. Um… He has the…” He seemed to be struggling to find the right words before his face lit up as he continued “POWER, right, he has the power to do everything he sets his mind to! Right?” He said as he turned to Kit’s parents, who nodded excitedly and started laughing in a very weird way as Tessa started saying “yeah! That’s totally what I meant by that.” Ty did not seem too convinced by this, frowning harder at the explanation.

               “But… you said that you thought that you could feel how he felt because of his powers. That’s not the same thing.” Tessa could feel the scrutinizing stares from her husband and friend, even if they seemed frozen to their spot, now sporting similar expressions to the one she had had before, only magnified to the power of a hundred. The tension in the room was palpable, even if Ty did not seem particularly upset or anything, she could see that he was simply looking for answers, like any detective would, and was trying to understand why they were making no sense. And, from what she had learned about Ty from Kit, which had not been much, admittedly, that kid was a rock really, was that he needed to make things make sense. Always.

               Suddenly, inadvertently saving the day, Mina who seemed to have reached her limit started exclaiming: “THIS IS REALLY BORING! FARRRRM!!! I want to show Ty the farm!!!” as she dragged her hands down her face in desperation.  This seemed to distract everyone enough for Jem and Tessa to excuse themselves to start taking the leftovers to the kitchen and promptly escape from the scene that had almost unfolded before them. Magnus, always the sparkly one, proceeded to make a grand show of being excited over seeing the farm, even if he had been taken there for at least a hundred times before, making sure to take Tiberius with him, it had not been a difficult task as he seemed to prefer animals to people anyway. The couple sighed in relief as they saw their two guests through the window, following Mina and indulging her crazy theories and stories about the animal’s secret life when no one was looking at them with interest and follow-up questions that the little girl was more than thrilled to make up an answer for on the spot.

               The farm was immense, there were horses, cows, goats, cats, dogs, ducks which never failed to amuse the High Warlock as he could only imagine Will’s reaction upon learning that Kit actually liked their family’s natural enemy. Magnus exhaled a little in relief, Tiberius seemed to have forgotten about their earlier interaction during brunch. He made a mental note to remember buying an excellent birthday present for Mina as he had no idea how the evening would have turned out had she not interjected when she did, and with something that actually distracted the young centurion from trying to get more information.

               He shook his head slightly in amusement, he could not believe how innocent Tessa could be sometimes, he knew she meant no harm but, for a centuries old warlock, she should really be a little better at keeping secrets, secret. Either way, there was no harm done and Tiberius looked like he was having a great time, all the animals seemed to like him, coming close to him, and letting him pet them without a second thought.

               He only scoffed a little at that, he had tried to do that the first few times he had come to visit his friends, but they would always run from him, much to Alexander’s joy and amusement. “I think they don’t like how shiny you are.” He had said, which had only managed to make him apply extra highlights, extra glitter, and extra jewelry when he went to visit. If they did not appreciate his style, then it was their loss after all.

               He remembered Jem’s words at the table, while he had been talking about Kit. Ty had looked overwhelmed with emotion, like he understood and connected to every word, which Magnus was sure he had if his reaction was anything to go by. He sighed, frustrated, as much as he shipped them, he really wanted them to figure it out already. Of course, he wanted to help, and he would, anyway he could, but he didn’t know how. Kit was being too stubborn and afraid to confront the Blackthorn kid, and Ty, sweet, smart, and clueless Ty, had not yet figured out the type of love he harbored for the Lost Herondale. He would have grunted in frustration had Tiberius not been standing not even five feet from where Magnus was.

               The boy was crouching, trying to be at the same level as Mina and the animals that walked by. The little girl was introducing him to them: “Ty, look! He is Mr. Sheep, he is very elegant, he only uses wool suits. Kit-Kat says that it keeps him warm in the winter, but sometimes he gets bored, so he takes it off every once in a while.” Ty lifted an eyebrow as he frowned slightly at that, he wanted to mention how the wool was actually a part of the sheep’s body, like hair, but stopped as he saw Magnus waving his hands around forming an X, and mouthing “play along”. His frown deepened, were they playing something? And, if they were, what was the game? He was about to ask when another sheep came closer to them, Mina continued making the introductions, so she said: “Great! She’s here, look, she is Mr. Sheep’s wife, they are in love and she is also very fancy, you can see it in her wool dress, see?” giggling happily as Ty turned his attention to her once more and showed her a small smile.

               “I see, is she Mrs. Sheep?” he asked, Mina squealed. “Yes! Had you met her before?” as she jumped excitedly. Ty jumped a little at the sound, but recovered as he said: “No, I just assumed that would be her name” as he swept his hands through his hair. Mina nodded, with a surprised look in her face. “You are really smart, Ty.” Ty smiled and said: “Thank you.” As he continued petting Mr. and Mrs. Sheep. He felt something dropping from his pocket and was about to get it when Mina picked it up from the ground and fixed him with a face full of wonder.

               “I knew it!! You are the Prince!” she said excitedly as she jumped with Ty’s sensory toy in her hand.

               “No, I’m not.” Ty said confusedly. Mina would not be deterred though, she continued: “Yes, you are, you have long black hair, metallic starred eyes, and you carry this in your pocket. You are kind, and never look at people in the eye. You ARE the Prince in my story!!!” Ty did not know how to respond to that, so he started asking questions.

               “If I were a prince, wouldn’t I know about it?” Mina rolled her eyes as she started saying: “Not in real life, obviously. You are the Prince in my story.”

               “You have a story?” Ty asked. Mina nodded and proceeded: “Yes! Kit-kat has been writing me bedtime stories since I was a baby, he even made me a book so that I could read them all once it is finished!” she said as she threw her arms up in victory. Ty was the one nodding now, while tilting his head. “That sounds like circumstantial evidence, though, there are a lot of people who look like me that could be carrying around something like this in their pocket.” Mina brought her hand up to her chin in thought, something he remembered Kit doing while they pretended to be Sherlock and Watson unraveling a new mystery and he wondered if she had learned the gesture from him.

               Her face lit up as she asked: “Do you have white headphones?!” Ty was a little surprised by the question and nodded in affirmation. She smirked triumphantly and told him: “Come with me.”

               Magnus and Ty followed along as Mina took them to her playroom, it was clear that she loved Disney movies from her toy chest and the posters that were pinned to the walls. They were not sure what to do or why she had brought them there, but she seemed excited to show them something. She rubbed her hands in a practiced fashion and said “Okay, are you ready? I have evidence that is not circ- circ- ugh! You know what I mean!” she said as she crossed her arms, annoyed that she couldn’t say circumstantial at four years old, which was completely understandable they assured her, but she had ignored it as she focused on her task. “Are you ready then?” she asked, when they both nodded, she smirked and lifted what they thought was a curtain, only to discover some kind of mural.

                Ty sucked in a breath as he recognized some parts of the scene, it looked a little like Faerie, but more cartoonlike and less polished. He could see a brightly coloured sky, full of stars, but none shone brighter than the gleam on what he assumed must be the Prince’s eyes. Just like Mina had said, he looked a lot like Ty, black hair, gray eyes, and with what was undoubtedly his sensory toy on hand as well as the white headphones he always carried on his neck. He had forgotten to put them on this morning because he had been in a hurry to get down to eat and to prevent anyone from finding the writings on the wall. Another thing he noticed, is that someone was looking over him, from a distance, their yellow hair dancing in the wind and their blue eyes shining brightly. He whispered “Alice?” out loud before he was able to catch himself, Mina frowned and said: “Who is Alice?” Ty countered with: “You know, the one from the movie, Alice in Wonderland”. To this, both Magnus and Mina frowned and looked at each other, “That looks nothing like her! I mean, sure, they both have blond hair and blue eyes. But Alice had long blond hair and a cute dress, whereas the Bard had curly, medium sized hair and a tunic, see?.” She said as Magnus showed him a picture of the Disney character that he had googled on his phone. Now it was Ty’s turn to frown, the Alice he often dreamt of had shorter hair for some reason, also, she was a little more tanned than the one Magnus had showed him, it looked more like this bard, only that she wore a dress like Tessa’s.

               He turned around as he saw Mina regarding the mural herself, a proud gleam in her eye as she said, trying to make it sound like a question, even if it came out more like an affirmation, daring him to prove her wrong: “those are your headphones”, pointing to the headphones hanging from the Prince’s neck, it was undeniable as they even had the detail on the handle that Livvy had done for him in nail polish so that he could always identify them. He nodded and Mina seemed satisfied with that. They could hear Jem and Tessa calling for them for supper, to which they all came down to eat.

               Jem and Tessa had been worried that the Blackthorn boy would attempt to resume the conversation they had been having at brunch, but he seemed too preoccupied with other thoughts, appearing to be distracted through their meal. As he finished, he thanked them and offered to help with the dishes, to which they thanked him and said that it wasn’t necessary. Almost at the same time, Magnus mentioned that they should also be leaving soon for the New York Institute if they wanted to catch up with Jace. This seemed to break Ty from his thoughts as he went to Kit’s room to prepare his luggage. He had traveled light, only a few changes of clothing and snacks in case they got hungry on the way.

               He opened the door and gasped. Maybe it was the lighting, but he could now see details he had not seen last night or in the morning, probably too distracted by the turmoil of emotions he had been experiencing recently. Apparently, in the time he had been gone, Kit had taken to painting, he could see all kinds of doodles on the ceiling, on the window’s frame, all over his desk, they were everywhere. He inspected all of them and he could almost imagine Kit painting them, with a flashlight nearby, he assumed he must have painted at night to avoid anyone walking in on him painting, he had always been a little awkward with positive attention.

               He continued perusing Kit’s artwork when he heard someone knocking on his door, he turned around abruptly to find Jem there, with two mugs in hand. He offered him one and asked him: “Do you mind if I come in?” Ty shook his head to say no, took the mug finding it filled with hot cocoa, and signaled with his hand to the chair at the desk. He sat by the bed, his hands reaching instinctively for the book by the nightstand.

               They sat in silence for a few minutes, as they both glanced around the room. It was comfortable. They both seemed to be thinking about the owner of the room as they appeared to be lost in their own thoughts. Jem was the first one who broke the silence, a concerned expression in his eye that reminded Ty of Julian.

               “Are you okay? You seemed a little distracted at supper.” He asked, Ty felt a little awkward, he had not meant to worry them, he had not been able to stop thinking about the mural and how it could really be him that Kit had written all these years about. Maybe he had been scared, like he had been to reach out because of the last conversation they had had with each other. Ty had gone to the Scholomance and Kit had gone to Devon, but maybe they had both been feeling the same. He pondered over this until he realized that Jem was still waiting for an answer, “I’m okay, I am sorry I’ve been distracted, there has been a lot on my mind.” It was not a lie, he just wanted to avoid getting into details. Jem nodded and said: “I understand, I just want you to know that, even if we have not known each other for long, you can talk to me about anything, no judgement. You do not have to feel pressured to do so either, but I am here whenever you may need me.”

               Ty felt oddly touched at the gesture, “Thank you, that is very kind of you.” He said as he smiled. Jem smiled as well, “It really is no problem. It’s the least I can do for someone who my son holds as dear to his heart as you.” Ty forced himself to look at him in the eye as he asked, “Why do you say that? Did he ever talk about me?” Jem shook his head, sighing softly, he could see the pained look in the boy’s eyes, his shoulders deflating slightly “I have lived through centuries, met a lot of Herondales throughout my life, and they all use pride as a mask to hide how sensitive they are. Even if they do not talk about what pains them, they find a way to cope, sometimes its through fights, training, becoming the perfect soldier, you name it. Sometimes its through art, like murals, letters that they disguise as stories, they will find a way to distract them from the turmoil in here” he said as he pointed to his heart and head. “by focusing on everything else out there” now, he was twirling his hand through the air to refer to the outside world.

               “Are you saying I’m what’s hurting Kit?” Ty whispered.

               Once again, Jem shook his head. “No, Tiberius, you are not what’s hurting Christopher. He is hurting because of regret, over what happened with you four years ago. Even if he was only a kid, he cannot forgive himself for what transpired that day, I have witnessed how haunted he is by the memories, but it is not because of you. If anything, your memories are the things that have kept him from losing his mind. That is why he has read every single one of those books repeatedly, he still hates to read, but those are his exception, we never asked why, but we had a feeling that it was related to you, and I can see we were right in our assumption.” He said as his eyes dropped to the book Ty was hugging close to him.

               Ty blushed, a little embarrassed, though he did not know why as he said: “It’s my favourite book series.”

               Jem smiled, comfortingly, “My point is, do not beat yourself up for the past, what matters is that you are doing something about it now, and that is really brave. Can I give you some advice?” He said, as he tilted his head in question. Ty nodded slowly and listened to what Jem had to say.

               “As someone who has lived through a lot of generations of Herondales, I can tell you that for every wonderful thing they represent, they make up for in really annoying self-deprecating or sacrificing tendencies; even on a good day, they may be unpredictable and you may not understand their reactions sometimes. Nonetheless, they are fiercely loyal and once they give their heart to someone, they can never take it back, they may try to, they may even deny their feelings, run away from them, but they can never escape from the truth at the end. Despite how great they are at gambles and deception; they can never lie to the ones they love. So, use that, and remember that, as all Herondales do, he will put up a fight, like….” He frowned slightly and looked up at the ceiling, as if looking for an answer before he smiled and raised a finger in the air “like a wild horse! Like the one from that movie where they had native americans and they were in the desert and there is this song about how the men in the blue suits will never take him and that he’s free??” He nodded in question to Ty who looked a little perplexed but nodded along with him. “Well, I am digressing really, I think I may be spending too much time watching movies with Mina…” Here, he thought that maybe he could try to get her interested in learning an instrument as a way to diversify their father-daughter quality time together.

                “Anyway, Herondales will inevitably fight you, if they care about you, they will defy the control you have over them, they hate relinquishing it, you see. They need you to prove that you are there to stay, that you see and accept them for who they are and are willing to give it all for them. The thing about Herondales is that, as fiercely as they love, they have a way of finding those who will love them as fiercely in return, those who will be willing to do anything to stay by their side. And I’m sure you are no exception.” He said as he lifted his gaze to look at Tiberius.

               Ty was speechless, he did not know what to say. He sat in silence for a while, processing the words that had been said. He lifted his gaze and directed it at the wall behind Jem, “So what do I do when I find him?” to which he responded: “I can almost guarantee that Kit will have one of two reactions: he will either go completely insane, and become a thousand times more awkward, he may even fall or stutter his way out of there because he’s nervous, or he may try to act unaffected, detached even, to make you feel as if he’s not thought about you for years. I need you to remember your time here, Ty, what you have seen. You need to know better for he may snap at you if he feels cornered, I doubt he would be mean to you, but you need to be prepared. If he really didn’t care, he would act as if nothing had changed, you know how he is. He expects everyone to walk out on him, he doesn’t think he’s worthy of being loved, so he takes it in stride if someone even does so much as remember his name.”

               To that, they both winced, it pained them to know how Kit hid his insecurities under a façade of nonchalance and arrogance, how he used sarcasm to keep everyone at arm’s length when he really craved affection and acceptance. “But.. how are you sure I’m the one that he needs?” asked Ty. Jem smiled a little as he said: “Because I know my son, even if he refuses to talk about this stuff, I know how much it’s been weighing on him and how special you were, and still are to him. I have no doubt that he is incredibly grateful to your family for having taken him after Rook died, I know he still talks to Emma every once in a while when she calls to check up on me and asks about how everyone is doing, because he cares. He tries to “be cool” all the time, he has this weird fascination with living up to the Herondale name, which I think is sweet, but unnecessary, he is a Herondale through and through and has been acting as such since before he had even properly learned of his last name, which has become a little bit of a tradition in the last few generations apparently.” Ty laughed at that in surprise and shook his head, his sensory toy in hand as he kept on listening to Jem.

               Once they had calmed down, Jem sighed, “If you ever doubt of his feelings for you, remember this house, the mural in Mina’s playroom, the books in his nightstand, even the stories he has made up in his head from missing you. I want you to know for certain that my son has never, not once, regretted knowing you. I don’t know what happened, but I am sure you will figure it out. I can see you are a good kid and that you care about my son as much as he cares about you.” He said as he smiled lazily. Ty ducked his head and tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, he was feeling very self-conscious with this conversation, but he also felt calmer, like something was clicking into place. “Thank you, for the talk, I think I really needed it.” Ty said sincerely after he saw Jem yawning. To this, Jem shook his head, laughing softly, “It was really no problem, I am happy to see you a little less troubled. I will go now; I am supposed to wake up early tomorrow morning and I wouldn’t want to keep you from arranging your things.” He nodded as he made his way to the door, closing it as he exited the room.

               Ty felt excitement rushing through him, he may not have found what he had come to look for, but he had found the hope he had lost that day at the Imperishable Fields. He gathered his things quickly as he made his way down, where Magnus, Tessa, Jem and Mina were waiting for him. He said goodbye to Tessa and Jem with a nod and thanked them for the hospitality, he then crouched and said goodbye to Mina, thanking her for showing them the farm and the animals. Mina smiled shyly and asked him to come back soon, to which they all cooed and laughed. Ty promised he would, and Mina nodded before saying: “Wait! I have something for you, stay right here, don’t move”, and she ran as quickly as her legs let her, sounds of toys falling erupted and a loud “AHA!” as she returned running with something behind her.

               She asked him to put his hands in front of him, palm side up, and for him to close his eyes for the surprise, to which he reluctantly agreed, knowing she would most likely not relent until she had her way, he felt something being placed on them carefully, and proceeded to open his eyes once Mina said he could. It was a binder, lined with faux leather that gave it an old look to it, despite the several stickers that were glued to it.

               Ty tilted his head and was about to ask her what was it, but Mina said: “Those are my stories, I thought you should read them if you are also going on an adventure.” Ty said: “Are you sure? I know how much you like these stories.” Mina nodded her head, “Yes, I do, but I think you should have them now, you can return them to me later. You just have to promise me that you WILL return them, okay?” she said as she raised her pinky finger. He was transported back to a time when pinky promises had been a sacred bow between the Blackthorn twins. He lifted his hand and linked his pinky with Mina’s and said: “I promise I will return it to you, maybe I will even bring Kit back with me.” This had apparently been the perfect thing to say as the little girl jumped up excitedly and waved them goodbye.

               They were about to step out of the door when Jem came up to Tiberius with a little plastic bag, “I packed you some Tiramisu, the cake you liked, for your trip. I had Tessa enchant the bag to keep it cold, so you don’t have to worry about it as long as you keep it there.” He said as he smiled at the boy who couldn’t contain his happiness over the parting gift. He thanked them and was about to step out when Jem said, after looking at Magnus with a look that was meant to say that this was a private conversation: “Remember that sometimes memories have a way of turning us so vulnerable that we need to hide them from the world, it could be metaphorical, like showing indifference when there is anything but in order to protect yourself, or it could be literal, like chalking up the writing on a wall so that no one else will see your heart and soul. It could be from the memory, the person it’s about, or even both; but remember that they are there for a reason, Tiberius.” With that, he turned and was about to close the door when Ty put his foot between the door and the frame, preventing it from closing. Jem appeared to be amused, and a little surprised, tilting his head in question. Ty scrambled through his thoughts, trying to find the words he wanted to say: “I… forgot something upstairs, can I go get it?” a little winded already from the emotion.

               Jem nodded and opened the door, watching Ty drop his bag, and sprint inside of the house, taking the steps two at a time, seemingly not reaching his destination fast enough. Once he opened the door to Kit’s room, he peered inside, frantically looking for the marker he had seen at the desk before. He found it and uncapped it, turning to the corner. As he reached it, he crouched and exhaled shakily, he couldn’t decide where to write or if it would be appropriate to write in Kit’s room, but he wanted the other to know that he was willing to be that someone who would be willing to do anything to stand by his side, and, if Kit gave him the chance, he would fight for it.

               With that in mind, he chose to write his words beside Kit’s, his handwriting had been shaky at first, but it got better the more he practiced. Glass, twin, apple, whisper, stars, crystal, shadow, lilt were now visible in the wall. He swallowed down his nervousness and took a deep breath, preparing himself to write the final part. Carefully, much more carefully than before, he wrote down his absolute favourite one, the one that never failed to calm him down and make him question things in a way he never had before, the one that always annoyed him and unsettled him to no end, the one that, even now, still forced a reaction out of him the way no other ever had. As he let it out, he felt lighter, and he knew he had made the right choice. He finished writing and felt exhausted, these past few days had really taken a toll on him emotionally, but he was satisfied with his progress, even if it was going slower than he would have liked, he felt more prepared to face his past and make up for what he had lost four years ago.

               He considered covering it, but he decided against it, he understood why Kit had covered it, but he wanted to highlight the feelings that fluttered inside him, he had thought he would always feel in black and white, but, with Kit, it felt like technicolor. Also, he wanted Kit to see it if he got here without him, to know that he remembered that day as well and that he was still special to him. A part of him was a little concerned that he would be upset with him, it wasn’t his room after all, but he would deal with the consequences if that were to happen, he was going to take responsibility for his actions and confront his fears from now on, he would not let fear separate him from those he loved anymore, and he could not think of a better way to start.

               He put the marker back in its place and stormed out of the house, saying goodbye to everyone as he went and stopping beside Magnus who had apparently been waiting for him for a while as he was leaning on a column while texting someone, tapping his foot on the floor. Once he had finished, he fixed Ty with an exasperated look in his eye as he said: “Don’t you look chipper today! Are you ready, young Prince? Or should you want to say goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Sheep, cow, pig, and horse before we go?” as he smirked. Ty rolled his eyes as he nodded “I am ready, Magnus”. Magnus laughed in response as he opened up a portal: “To New York it is! I hope you do not miss us terribly.”, as he made a motion with his hand for Ty to get inside, following soon after.

               They arrived on the steps of the New York Institute and quickly made their way inside of it. Both happy to be there, though for different reasons. Magnus said: “I think we should rest for today and continue with our adventure tomorrow.” Ty nodded, looking around for someone who could give him information on Jace’s whereabouts as Magnus retreated, most likely looking for the Consul.

               He made his way into the weapon’s room, and found Izzy and Simon sparring, once they noticed him, they stopped and asked him if he was looking for someone. He quickly explained the situation, to which they told him that he could take any unoccupied room he wanted and that Jace and Kit were not there, that they had left a few days ago and had not mentioned when they would be getting back.

               He would be lying if he said that he did not feel a little disappointed at this, but also excited as Simon had mentioned that Jace may have left some information in his office that could give them an idea of where they might have gone. He had made it sound like a mystery, and Ty loved those, Sherlock looking for Watson? It was classic, textbook even. The stakes could not be higher, and his interest had peaked. He smiled at the couple, nodded, and made his way to Kit’s cousin’s office, he was almost skipping in excitement, though he tried to hide it as much as he could. Even if he was not sure about what would happen once he was reunited with Kit, he did know how to solve a mystery, and he was determined to do so, he could hardly wait to get the answers he was looking for.  

               He entered and made his way to the desk, observing every detail that could point him in the direction of the next clue. He had a feeling it would keep him up all night and he silently thanked the angel for having had such a good rest the night before.

               On the other side of the world, in a glamoured house in Devon, everything looked the same, the same cupboard, the same books and order in the library, the same chaos in the playroom, the same couple who read their daughter a new bedtime story, the same little girl who missed her big brother, the same silence that danced around the house, looking for the same boy that had disrupted it since he had stepped foot through the door.

               His room looked almost the same, the doodles were still there, as were the books by his bed, and the stuff in his desk. At first glance, it would seem as if nothing had changed. But, if you squinted hard enough, if you noticed every detail, you could feel that the loneliness and cold that had been so present in the room were not anymore quite as prickly, almost as if Ty had left a part of him in his wake. And maybe he had, like some sort of test to make sure that it was not just a jest. Maybe he wanted to see, if it meant to Kit as much as it had him, the writing on the wall that would be only for him. For if you looked really close, where no one else would turn to see, was written in bold, cursive letter, “Christopher Herondale, my Kit”. It may not be that simple, but it was a start, and it got the room feeling a little more warm, for this was only the beginning of never again being apart.

Chapter Text

 When Mark had said that he would walk with Kit, he had not meant it quite so literally. They had been going by foot for too long, seen many sunrises and had strolled with only the light of the stars or the moonlight guiding their steps just as much. They would take short breaks, never stopping for more than a few hours, they had created a schedule so that they would be on alternating lookouts as to not compromise the secrecy of their mission or each other’s sanity. 

               Mark had experienced what sleep deprivation felt like, as well as had seen many be driven mad by it, hunted by the pull of slumber that would follow them and hang onto their body until they finally relinquished to it, be it in rest or by losing their minds to the point of taking their lives to put a stop to their suffering. The first few years with the Hunt, he had had trouble sleeping, barely getting a few minutes, or hours if he was lucky. He would always wake up in the midst of the night, gasping desperately for air, with his jaw tensed and his training kicking in to protect him from the threat that had to be looming by. At first, this had reassured him, despite everything he had been through, he was still a Shadowhunter. This had changed after he learned of his people’s betrayal. He had warned them about the attacks on the institutes, and they had abandoned him without a fight. 

               After than fateful night saving Simon, the nightmares only grew worse, he would wake up in a cold sweat almost every night. He had no way of knowing how long he had been serving the Hunt, and he dreaded the idea of being too late, that he had waited too long for a rescue and his family had forgotten about him, or worse. Sometimes he would even startle himself realizing that he could no longer remember specific details on their appearance, and he realized to his horror that, even if he did remember everything --like Ty would often remind everyone he did-- it would no longer be the same by now. Upon this realization, he avoided sleeping as much as he could, he wanted to escape from the memories and nightmares that danced behind his eyelids, knowing that time was running by and he had no way of stopping it. It did not take long for his Prince to realize that something was wrong, but Mark would always distract him, and himself, with a kiss that promised further exploring. 

               This had worked for a while, he would walk out of Kieran’s arms after the other had fallen asleep; he would walk, take a bath by the river, and worship the stars above him, restlessly naming them as he had for years. He would tell them about each of his siblings and describe them with as much detail as he could. He was exhausted, but calmer, numb even, he noticed that he seemed to be a little slower than usual, but he had paid it no mind. Kieran, however, had noticed and was not sharing the feeling. Mark had not bothered to realize how attached to his routine he had become until his Prince stopped following it.

               Instead of their usual dalliances, Kieran started to offer him luxurious massages by the end of each day, that he was sure any other Unseelie would frown upon a Shadowhunter receiving it; he would bring back gifts from his day’s expeditions, soft, silky sleepwear or warm, fuzzy quilts that were so heavy that he felt as if enveloped in a tight embrace, his Prince had even mentioned that he had used it on the way back so that he could feel his scent on it, which he could, and he could not seem to get enough of. Mark had been confused, he had always had a hard time accepting gifts, especially from Kieran as he could still not believe that he, a prince of Unseelie, could have chosen him, a Shadowhunter, as his. 

               He still felt overjoyed whenever Kieran showed him his affection, even now, after all these years, and, at the time, the feeling had been so new that he knew not how to react to these gestures, only knowing that he wanted to return his affection in the best way he knew how, but Kieran had rejected his advances, showering him in slow gentle affirmations and caresses instead. Mark could feel himself drifting into sleep and jumped, catching himself and trying to excuse himself from the moment. He felt dread coursing through him as he realized that he had almost allowed himself to sleep, the voice whispering how he would not be able to hear news from his family by being asleep. He had tried to get off Kieran’s embrace, but he had not relented. Mark drew his gaze up towards him and saw suspicion on his face. 

               “Kier?” He said, slurring his words a little. Kieran was still regarding him closely as his grip on Mark’s body tightened, letting him know that he would not be letting him leave until he was done. Sometimes Mark forgot that, under Kieran’s sweet, tender side that he showed only him –and Cristina now--, he was still a Prince that had been brought up to have people obey their every wish. Kieran rarely showed this side anymore as his title more often than not was seen as a means of ridiculing him into submission. Not that it ever worked, Kieran had always had a way of commanding a situation to his favour, and his time in the Hunt had been no exception. 

               Kieran was still watching him, Mark could –barely—see his eyes wandering through every inch of his face. He had not even noticed when Kieran had lifted a hand to his cheek, only now realizing that he had been leaning his head on it, feeling his own shoulders relax as his prince moved his thumb in soft, tender circles over his jaw. Mark had been so tired that he could barely keep his eyes open, it felt like his eyelids were lined with lead and each time it became a much greater effort to keep his eyes open. He felt his breathing evening out and let out a sigh as his eyes refused to open up anymore, the gentle up and down of Kieran’s chest as he breathed relaxing him further, the sound of it lulling him to sleep. He was drifting away, his body being swept off by the calm river of unconsciousness and his eyes showing him the images of his siblings, and, as he saw them, he realized that he would much rather remember them like this, than not remember them at all. 

               The next morning, he woke up, still on Kieran’s arms, and his Prince had asked him if he was happy, and he had surprised himself by saying he was. There were many things that he wished would have been different, but he would not change any as they had led him here, to his Prince. That did not mean that, if the opportunity to go and be with his siblings presented itself, he would not take it. If anything, that experience had reinforced his love and devotion to his family, he would try to be happy here, to honour the family he had left behind, even if they knew not of what was transpiring here, he would fight harder than any Hunter and make them proud. He had decided that, even if he were to never return to his family, he would make sure to never forget them and to ensure that they would hear of him and be assured that he was okay and happy, for that was all that he ever wanted to hear from them. He, of course, had not mentioned this last part to Kieran as he did not wish to break the moment they were having, but he was sure that his Prince had to know that that would be his choice. That, even if his memories were to fiddle and die, his heart knew where it belonged.  

               Turns out that Kieran had noticed that Mark had been escaping into the night and had not been as distracted as he had assumed, he had simply wanted to give him time to come to him but, as time went on, his performance had been less than adequate those past few days and he had nearly killed himself by accident enough times for Gwyn to go to Kieran in concern, who had promptly produced a plan to get him to get the rest he had obviously been lacking. They had had a long discussion where Mark had told him of the terrors that the voices kept feeding into him, how he dreaded to go back to his family and find them long gone, and Kieran had listened. 

               Mark knew that his Prince could not understand the bond he felt towards his family, he had never had such a relationship with his, but he had never made him feel bad or wrong about it and this had been no exception. As Mark confessed his every fear, regret and thought, Kieran simply nodded patiently, tightened his grip on his hand or brought him closer to him to offer him his protection. Mark knew that Kieran knew that he could take care of himself, had seen the destruction he could bring about when provoked, and still yearned to be the one who would fend off the demons that resided in his head. He would have laughed had the burst of affection flowing through him not forced him down on his knees so that he could have a better angle to kiss his Prince with. From then on, he had had a restful sleep every night in the arms of the Prince he loved. 

               He knew that he had been lucky to have had his company to distract him from the nightmares or get him to rest once he noticed the exhaustion lines on him. In the Hunt, it was every Seelie for themselves. The job of a Hunter was better performed in solitude either way, there was no need for companionship when dealing with the dead and war that they left in their wake. Most of them had grown used to it, having spent centuries riding with them and yet, sometimes, the wind still carried the silent screams of its crew over the personalized terrors their minds could have concocted. 

               Some would try to fight through it, like he had, to pretend they could not hear the incessant call of slumber, feel it’s weight on their shoulders, whispering sweet nothings in their ear, sing to them songs of tragic futures and fallen woes, of disappointment and loss. It would show them their greatest fears and regrets, taunt them with it in a voice so sweet you could not help but lean on it, depend on it, feed off it, needing nothing else. It would soon make them become skittish though, paranoid. They would slowly become anxious that someone was out to get them, so they would try to hide, completely oblivious that the enemy was never to leave their side, waiting for them to weaken so that their body would betray them and bring about their perish. 

               He would never forget having seen a man who had suffered such fate, Galiel. He had been made to serve Gwyn after being found stealing from the Hunt’s provisions, he had apparently escaped sure death from the devastation that had befallen his people by hiding in the shadows like a coward, so they had seen it fitting that he should be made to serve the same people that had had to gather the annihilated ones he had turned his back to. Despite his desperate cries, it was obvious from his demeanor that he only felt guilt over being discovered, not over sacrificing other life for his own. Gwyn and the other Hunters had felt repulsion over this, the fey could be considered cruel, but never dishonest or dishonorable to their own, so they had showed no mercy to their newest toy. 

               Mark could only feel pity for him now. Back then, he had already been part of the Hunt for years, witnessed enough havoc with his peers for so long that he could not comprehend how could anyone stand back from a fight and watch their brethren succumb to the chaos of war. He would be lying if he said he understood now, he thought he never would, but he had come to realize that he came from Nephilim and Fey, both unrelenting species who stayed true to their laws and duty –with a few exceptions, he thought as their family motto “lex malla, lex nulla”, came to his mind—. 

               Mundanes, on the other hand, they knew nothing of the Shadow World, of the perish they were constantly being saved from, of how many people had sacrificed their lives over centuries to keep them safe and maintain their normal lives. Mundanes only knew of the hardships they had made for themselves. Living in Los Angeles, Mark knew enough about their lives to know that it was not for him. Not only were they blind to the damage they were causing to their land, they were blind to each other. He could not understand, no matter how hard he tried, but he had decided long ago that he would continue fighting for them for he knew that they deserved the chance to become better, that they had strength within them to try, and that, he had learned from Galiel. 

               By the time Galiel was brought to them, he had already gained Gwyn’s trust, but not yet the other Hunter’s. Due to this, he had been tasked to make sure that he would not escape, as mortals knew little of keeping to their word. This had upset him, but he had acquiesced to the command, observing him from a distance, making sure the other never knew he was being followed to ascertain his character better. The newest servant would keep to himself, trying to go unnoticed, to attract no attention to himself as much as possible. 

               He had been a wreck from the beginning but made up for it by fulfilling orders quickly and expectantly waiting for each command, never talking out of turn, or raising his voice after every insult that was directed at him. To anyone else, his behaviour would appear as accommodating, to Mark, however, it was clear that nerves and panic fueled his actions, too scared of standing up to his captors over what they might do to him, and he couldn’t help but feel sorry for the fate that his own actions had brought upon himself. This was clear in the way he would frantically walk to a lonely corner of the ship after each interaction, making sure he was out of sight, as he finally allowed himself to gasp and tremble to his knees until he gathered his bearings. On particularly bad occasions, Mark had seen him cry, always turning around to give him privacy. Even if he had done despicable acts, Mark couldn’t help but feel bad for the other. He reminded him a little of how he had been when first recruited to the Hunt, scared, alone and uncertain. He, however, had been scared over his family, terrified of what fate had befallen them after he had been taken by Gwyn. Unlike Galiel, he had stood proud of his blood, despite the insults and berating that this provoked and he believed that to be the reason that he eventually gained their respect, the reason why they finally trusted him enough to let him join them in fight, to protect him and have him protect them as one of their own. 

               Galiel, on the other hand, seemed to be unable to let go of the ghosts of his past, incapable of seeing past his regret and misdoings. Mark had heard more than once his hollow cries, the silent screams that would be drowned by the howl of the wind or the sound of the sea, he would cry out for his loved ones, to his Anna, to a Mabel, and a little baby Steve, even to his God, begging for forgiveness and mercy, one that he knew would never come nor he deserved but still wished fervently for. 

               As time went on, and, despite his better judgment, Mark had developed a fascination towards Galiel that he could not have predicted. He was still deeply upset by the other’s actions, but he could see how repulsed the other was with himself, how disgusted he looked as he saw his reflection in the water, how turbulent his tears and cries would become when speaking to himself that he could not help but feel a surge of protectiveness towards him. 

                After weeks had passed of Galiel serving the Hunt and doing his best to stave clear from trouble, he had thought to have found the cure to the nightmares that haunted his nights, a faerie drink that had been offered to him as they passed by a revel. Mark had wanted to warn him of the dangers of consuming it, especially for a mundane. But, as his observation had been strictly one-sided, the other had fled from his every advance, which Mark supposed was to be expected. Still, he grew concerned as he saw the immediate effects on him, just like everyone else. He was now energetic, showing a quick wit and a sharper tongue. 

               Not only was this not well received with the other Hunters, he was apparently not even aware of what he would do during this lapses, growing steadily more reliant on the drink as it made him less aware, which he confused for better. Mark also noticed that he was no longer sleeping, which only worsened his condition. He, as a Hunter and Shadowhunter, could manage going more than a day without sleeping, but a mundane was not equipped for that kind of lifestyle; and, he quickly grew more worried as even he was having trouble keeping up with the other’s schedule. His body kept telling him that he should sleep, and so, after talking to Gwyn of the situation, he did. 

               The leader of the Wild Hunt had given the servant a few days to rest as a result of that conversation, which he had confusedly taken and assured that he would be back after a week. Of course, Mark had been tasked with keeping an eye on him, to make sure that he brought no harm to himself considering his recent behaviour. Galiel, after being dropped at a mundane town, quickly scoured for the nearest bars and distractions, he had been given some golden coins by Gwyn, which he had readily used to relish in the pleasures of the flesh and plenty of drink. This had gone on for at least four days, and Mark had only grown more worried as Galiel’s addiction became ever more clear. He would start twitching and trembling if he went for more than a few hours without it, he would stumble upon people and objects, and it would take him a few seconds to acknowledge what had happened. 

               It was not until Mark had taken it away from him, in the middle of one of Galiel’s drunken stupors, that he really knew how gone the other had truly become. He could see how his eyes started drooping, and how he seemed to be exerting a herculean effort to lift his hand in search of the drink and, when he finally noticed it gone, he saw how his features became pale white, how his eyes became haunted, terrified, filling quickly with tears that resembled the ones he had seen the other cry when asking for forgiveness. Galiel, no longer drunk on spirits but in fright, quickly gathered his bearings and ran to the forest, where he started to whisper, steadily increasing his tone until he was screaming for someone with wild desperation. 

               Under the shadows, Mark saw astonished how unraveled the other had become, and he could not recognize the scaredy Galiel that had first come to the Hunt anymore, only saw the same fear and terror that had riddled him before, only now it was over losing the one thing that allowed him to escape from his mind and regret. On the other side, he also saw the fey who had given him the drug, reveling in the dread they could see in the other’s eyes, and Mark knew, in that moment, that she would never show her face to Galiel again, having already accomplished the effect she had intended.  

               The Hunt had arrived after having heard of the servant’s screams, and, offering no explanation, Galiel had returned to his duties, he had scoured relentlessly through his belongings for the drug, to no avail, and became even more withdrawn after the onslaught of memories that assaulted him as his memories came back to him, and he still, now more than ever, refused to go to sleep.                

               No one had said anything when Galiel’s cheeks turned sunken and his eyes started to bulge quite noticeably, his body consuming itself from within. Galiel had now become scared of being poisoned, so he would not eat. He could hear his screams at night, begging someone to stop the torment he was subjected to, for the pain to stop and for the voices to go quiet. He had also taken to inflicting pain to himself to keep himself awake, pinching himself, cutting a gash across his thigs, even sticking his hand in boiling water. He had become so terrified of his nightmares, that no scar would seem so terrible in comparison, even if those were in fact real and impossible to erase. 

               Even the other Hunters had noticed something was wrong and seemed concerned, no longer bothering him, or even asking him for anything. It had gotten to a point where he could not even notice this shift in behaviour as he had become too entranced with his thoughts, with trying to stay awake, with the voice that seemed to be murmuring in his ear and make him jump at every noise. 

He would mumble, as if in conversation, “No, I will not fail, I will not succumb, I promise, I will make you proud. I will show you.” And, then, with a snarl in his voice “and them, I will show them how strong I can be. This time, I will not hide, I will fight with them and show them how wrong they were about me. Yes, they will see now, how wrong they were, and you will be proud, yes?” He then said with hope laced in his vowels. His words were met with silence, but he still showed a smile so wide that he was sure that he had received confirmation to his question. 

            Mark was growing more and more concerned, Galiel appeared normal to the others, only slower, he would drag his feet instead of walk, and he had trouble standing up for long periods of time, it seemed as if he could not even keep himself straight, as if his own weight was too much for him, and so, he would always be found leaning on a tree, or a wall, anything that would support him. The bags and bruises under his eyes had been there for so long that Mark surprised himself by realizing that he could not remember a time when the other had not had them, even if they had not known each other for over a month or so.

               Mark decided that the situation needed to change, and started to get closer to Galiel, slowly, so as not to frighten him, and, after a while, the other had stopped fleeing once he came into sight. Mark had wanted to believe that he was helping Galiel, had wanted to believe that he was moving on from that terrible night that hunted his nights. 

               As with every story, nothing was ever so simple. Galiel had indeed turned his back on his loved ones, but it hadn’t been completely on purpose. As he told the story, he seemed to be transported back to that time, when he had been happy and loved, he had just become a father and he and his wife, Anna, had been ecstatic over this. However, after a complication at childbirth, Anna needed rest and had been told that she could not continue working for a few months. This had upset their plans as, being poor, they could not afford to lose the steady income that Anna’s work provided. Mabel, Anna’s sister, had offered to go live with them and pay for her rent and expenses as she had just moved back from a trip and needed a place to live. 

               This had worked perfectly as she would also care for her sister whenever she could, and Anna seemed to be getting stronger as little baby Steve seemed to be getting bigger every day. Everything had been going well until Anna’s sickness started relapsing, she would wake up in high fevers and soak the covers in sweat; she would not eat or would get sick if she was forced to do so. They had gone to the doctors and no one could give him an answer for the price that he offered. Devastated, he had tried to gather more money so that he could take his Anna to get the help she needed, but, after a few days, it became obvious that the sickness was spreading faster than he would ever be able to succeed by conventional methods. That is when he had met her. 

               She had been the answer to his prayers, gave him hope and listened to his worries until the dawn arrived, she had offered a solution, a potion that could save his wife from her torment and bring her back to what she once was, and he had believed it without a second thought, too overcome by the need to keep his love alongside him. She had said that he needed to gather a few ingredients from within the forest and a neighboring town, he had reasoned that it would only be a few days by foot, so he had gone to fetch every item that had been requested. 

               He recognized the pointed ears and wisdom from several legends told by the people of the town, how those features could only mean trouble, yes, he knew well. He was well aware that no conventional potion could bring his wife back from the brink of the dead, he had tried going to other creatures, the ones that you would regularly fear or run away from only to be rejected at every turn. But he had been desperate and had heard incredible stories of the extent of the being’s powers. 

She had regarded him with pity is his eyes after having checked on Anna, but said that death had already claimed her as his, she commended her for holding on as the pain must have been tearing through her, but she was still fighting for her life, no matter what anyone told her, she had been firm on staying by her husband’s side and seeing their baby grow up. Galiel could see the haunted and tormented look in her eye that she always tried to conceal from him, his beautiful, strong wife; always the strong one, always protecting him from all harm. 

               It was this that had driven him to accepting the being’s proposal, she had not even asked for anything in return, so he had trusted her. He did not care how she did it, even if her means for restoring her wife’s health were to be nefarious, he would not care. He could not lose the one light in his life that made everything better, that gave meaning to his existence. He so loved his sweet Steve as well, but, without Anna, he was not sure if he would be able to look at him ever again, be it for the guilt over not being able to save his mother, or because of the pain in his heart at the sight of the one thing she had left on earth, other than his broken heart would surely be too much for hhhim. 

He had heard the stories, those exchanges never seemed to work, but that had to be because their goal had been evil, right? Nothing good could come from something like that. He was sure that nothing bad would happen as he was merely rectifying the wrongness of what was happening. There was not a soul on the face of the earth that Galiel could think of that deserved to lead a beautiful life more than his Anna, and that was not only his biased opinion, a lot of people from the town had commented on it, how unfair it all was. 

               He had met Anna early on in his life, and she had been beloved by all since then, she was sweet and attentive, always happy and ready to offer her assistance without expecting anything in return. He had been struck by her beauty throughout the years, as well as several other people, she was almost magnetic, nobody could keep away from her or not be charmed by her kind and gentle nature. It was fair to say that he had not had much hope for ever having her return his feelings, he would always get shy and awkward when she talked to him. 

That did not mean that he had not tried to win her affections, he would always come back from his hunts with little trinkets that reminded him of her during his travels, accompanied by letters of how her smile lit the night sky or how he could hear her voice in the river and wind that ran before him. He would tell her about how she had become his North Star, the one light that would always lead him home. 

               A lot of people had objected to their relationship, most could not understand it. He was a nobody, for all intents and purposes, compared to her, he had no money, or steady job, or even a proper house, but she had assured him that the only thing she needed was the love only he could offer, for anything else would surely come around if they never gave up and fought for the life he had promised her. Some years had passed, and, while their living arrangements were undoubtedly better, he had not yet fulfilled his promise. 

This only fueled his desperation further, he could not let her go, it was too soon, he had no idea of who he would be without her, the thought was unthinkable. So it had not been a choice, even if he had tried to debate it, to think about the consequences he had heard about, but he found that he could not care about them for, was love not the most pure goal? Surely this stranger had been a gift from above to fix the cruel fate that was supposed to befall on his wife. 

               He would later find out he had been wrong, blind to her intentions. He went to fetch the ingredients and decided not to say goodbye to his wife, sure that, when he returned he would be able to give her the potion that would cure her and he would have his Anna back. The real one, the happy and kind Anna that would always lead him to the light, not the shadow of her that was fighting for her life, grasping desperately at the very end of the coil that death had cut short. He would come back, soon, and everything would go back to how it was supposed to be. 

               It had only taken him a few hours, and he had been proud, elated, for the stranger had made it seem as too daunting of a task for such a simple man. He had been a fool, too distracted to pay any mind to the smell that wafted through the air or the cloud of smoke that could be seen through the distance, had he not been too in his head to notice anything but the soft white clouds and bright blue sky that was right above him as he made his way back to his house dreaming of what the future would bring to his family now thaht their luck was turning. 

He had been skipping, content that Anna would not be sleeping alone tonight, which had been a concern of him when he embarked on this quest; he was even humming, a bright, happy tune that he had heard Anna sing to Steve when he was in a cranky mood. He could feel excitement coursing through his veins as he recognized the path that would lead to the entrance to the town. He was getting closer, just a few miles from it, he only needed to get past the forest that lined the mountaintop and he would see the way to his home, to his Anna, and to his Steve. The wind seemed to be howling through the forest, but he could pay it no mind as he could only hear his wife’s laughter, her voice joyous and sweet calling his name. 

               He could almost see her now, in his arms as they reunited, without fear weighing them down, and he felt invincible as he made his way up the mountain. He could see the top now in the horizon, but he could not seem to get there fast enough, though, so he decided he could wait no longer, taking up on a run excitedly, he almost felt like he was flying with the way the wind ran across his face, he had been about to scream in victory when he reached the top of the mountain. 

               That’s when he noticed. 

               Fire and smoke enveloped his town, the ashes lifting and flying in every direction. He realized as he collapsed on the ground that what he had mistaken for leaves of bugs hitting his face as he ran had really been ashes from the devastation that had been occurring, the remains of the town he had called home; the howling of the wind had been no other than the screams of the people he had grown up with. As this realization dawned on him, he felt all the air leave his lungs as if the tongues of fire lapping through each corner were kicking him in the gut. He stood there, immobile, feeling as if his feet had been nailed to the ground as he saw his people running terrified from the creatures that had come to bring about their destruction. 

            He felt tears running down his cheeks as he watched people be slaughtered. He felt numb, a deep-seated cold had taken residence in his chest, his arms and legs felt like lead, heavy and rendering him useless. He could not fight the derisive laugh that accompanied this thought, all throughout his life he had been doing his best to prove that he was not useless, that he deserved everything he had because he had worked hard for it, just like his Ann—

             Anna. 

            He felt his body freeze over in absolute terror now, his senses came alive then, his body now back in his control as he ran like a madman through the devastation. He had not stopped running, he made sure to hide so that no creature would try to catch him –or eat him--. He knew that he was turning his back on the people he came across, but he convinced himself that they were simply distractions from achieving his goal, and for once his brain was quiet, all systems in sync with one goal in mind, getting to Anna.

               Once he arrived at the front of his house, he felt his heart stuttering in relief as he saw that the cottage had not yet been consumed by the flames. He had thought it odd as, the closer he had gotten, the more serious had the effects of the fire seemed and the more bodies had he had step across, but had paid it no mind as he could only thank the lord above for this blessing. His eyes traveled all the way to the balcony, when he saw and recognized the stranger that had sent him on his quest before the door. He had never been more relieved, surely, she had protected his house and his family while he was away, he had thought a mix between a sob and laughter bubbling up at the memory, his face fully morphing into fury after; he had merely taken a step in her direction before the stranger snapped her finger. What followed had been carved in his mind since then. 

               As dominoes, he had seen his house change before his eyes, the soft blue wood planks that made up the cover of his house were now scorched and barely holding on to their weight anymore, he could hear the way it cracked and fell. He could now see that this had been the source of the fire, and where the creatures had come from as he could see the portal that was being guarded by the stranger. He had screamed, thrashed, and demanded an explanation, to which the stranger simply laughed at him for his portrayal of weakness. 

               “Why would you do this? None of this people deserved this! And what have you done to my Anna? And Mabel, what about Steve?” He demanded as he got closer to her, ready now to fight the stranger if necessary. The stranger laughed once again, shaking her head, “Mortals, you never learn. You all know you are going to die eventually, but still try to fight the inevitable when the time comes. Your Anna was always going to die, even if she was fighting the pull, she was suffering, and you knew that, but you could not let her go and preferred to keep her that way instead. You could not let go of your selfish fear of being alone and took up a stranger’s proposal without a second thought, even if you had been warned of the consequences, and now they have come.” As she said this, she seemed completely uninterested, inspecting her long nails as she leaned precariously on the frame of the door, which seemed to be about to break under her. 

               “But you said that she could be saved! You said it would restore her health! You lied to me?” To that, the stranger snapped her eyes to him and stood up straight, her posture imposing and daring as she said “I did not lie, I know of a potion that could have restored her health, but I never offered it to you. I simply mentioned it so that you would leave while my creatures came to destroy this town. I told you that she had been marked by death, and she was. In fact, all of you were, in a way, you can think of time as death as it is cruel to the mortals and you cannot escape from it. There is also the fact that we had been targeting this town for this very purpose, it had been a while since we found such a promising lot of land and… entertainment” she said this as she smiled amusedly at the disgusted expression in his face. 

               “You see, they all serve me, and I have to give them something to look forward to every once in a while, as a way to keep them motivated to our cause. I am Fey, you see, but was brought up by a family of mortals as a changeling, I had always known I was different, but had not known how much until another creature came to me and told me of its origin and my story. She told me of the tragedies that my people had suffered at the hands of men, how their selfish, destructive tendencies had led to the destruction of our realm, she also gave me a name.” She stopped talking for a while, seemingly lost in a memory as Galiel tried to look inside the house for anything that would tell him of his family’s condition.

               He was stooped short as she continued “That is when I knew that I had found my purpose, I needed to create a place in the world where the Fey could live in peace and away from the mortals, but first, I needed to find the perfect candidate, one selfish enough, desperate enough to play along to my plan. It had been easy to find you, you reeked of terror and desperation, and you had been so ready to accept the help from a stranger instead of cherishing the precious last moments of your wife’s life. 

You preferred to leave her in pain instead of staying by her side. What you had failed to ask was what I would be taking in return, our laws are old and sacred, so we needed the permission from a villager to take their land, and you provided that to us on a silver platter, leaving without saying goodbye or even a second thought, giving us enough time to attack and take what is now rightfully ours. So, we would really ought to thank you, it would have been impossible without you.” 

           She said this as she directed a smile at him and unsheathed a blade from her dress, he would have ran up to her and fought her had he not been suddenly grabbed by two of the creatures, pinning him in place as he saw her coming closer to him. He had been staring at her until he noticed a flash of movement behind her, from inside his house, and he immediately followed it. This seemed to catch all of them by surprise as he was able to sneak past the guards into his house, and he followed the movement he had seen before, it led to the kitchen, and, as he ventured there, he almost wished he hadn’t. 

The whole floor was painted red, every single item was out of place and on the floor, like they had been used in battle, or for defense, and he felt nausea hit him as he thought of his Anna trying to fight something in her condition, he bolted to their room, refusing to accept this idea, maybe it had been Mabel, maybe someone had tried to protect them and this had been the result, maybe they were still hiding, waiting for him to get to them. 

               As he opened the door to his room, he felt once again the terror that had been gnawing at his heartstrings since he reached the mountaintop, it felt as if he had been doused in cold water and set on fire at once. In there, he saw a very different scene, no blood, no chaos, but also no Anna, Mabel or baby Steve. Only fluff from the covers of their bed as it seemed to have been stabbed repeatedly, he had no idea how long –or little—time had passed, but he could now hear the creatures coming up the stairs, most likely looking for him, so he climbed from the window to the roof, and down through the bushes that lied beneath. 

               He should have given it a proper thought, but he had had no time as he fell terribly on his face and knees, as the bushes had also been burnt by the fire. He had heard a crack that he assumed had been his ankle at the fall, now feeling an excruciating pain coming from it. He lifted his head to survey his surroundings and think of a way to escape when he saw it. Anna had always said that she liked living so close to the forest as it was very fresh and calming, he had not felt this way as he could only think that living in the outskirts of town showed everyone how poor they were. But Anna never seemed to mind, even when she had fallen ill, she had loved to see the trees through the window, and would ask that he kept it open, so that she could hear the birds singing in the morning and feel the morning breeze. 

               At a branch of her favourite tree, he saw the blanket he had covered Steve with in the morning, dangling off it. Forgetting the pain, he stood up and limped his way to it as silently as he could, he grabbed it and let out a breath, it was dirty, and cut, and damp with a red liquid that he recognized but refused to give a name to. He cried and fell on his side, bringing the blanket to his face as he cried into it. He had seen the path to the forest as he had gone closer, and it had left little to no hope of finding his family alive, he still tried to, he walked for what felt like a long time, following the blood path that never seemed to stop until it did, and he had found that he would have preferred to succumb from his injuries on the way there. 

At the end of the path, and in the middle of the forest, he found a pile of the villagers he had grown up with, the ones he had known all his life, being eaten by these creatures, ones that looked just like the stranger who had tricked him. He felt tears gathering in his eyes, and he could only think of vengeance for a town and people who had not deserved this fate; he could only feel guilt over him being alive when he was the last on the list who deserved it. 

               He had been standing up to make his way and defend his town’s honor, when he was grabbed from the shoulder by the creatures he had escaped from earlier. He thrashed and tried to escape once again fruitlessly, now they had been expecting it so they had kept their grasp strong, bruising his arms and shoulders instantly and making his attempts to move impossible. The stranger came up to him and grabbed him by the chin, “You sure are an impatient little mortal, are you not?” She had said as she put a little more distance between them “I was going to bring you here eventually, so that you could see what I got from giving you this” 

She withdrew a bottle with a greenish blue liquid on it and gave it to him, “I know I never said I would give it to you, but I’m nothing if not fair” she laughed at this and brought a finger to the corner of her eye to flick the tears that had escaped from it, she had been turning to join her followers when she stopped and directed her gaze at him, an eyebrow lifting as she said “Oh, you did not let me finish my story, remember how I told you that she had given me a name?” She seemed to be waiting for an answer, which never came, so she continued “she named me Giltiné, after the goddess of death, so you could say that they had been marked, by me, from the moment you accepted my help.” She winked and made her way to her peers, feasting on his friends, and he fell unconscious after that. 

               He came back to his senses as he heard the sounds of a battler close by, he had thought help had come their way because of the fire, but he had been wrong once again, the creatures were fighting similar looking creatures, but they seemed more rugged and savage, they seemed to be gathering the dead. He had been leaning behind a tree watching the scene unfolding before him, as his ankle was still hurting, but he had been discovered and made to serve them for not fighting alongside his people, for being a coward. A part of him thought of it as unfair, he had arrived when most of them had already died, but he could not deny the fact that he had rushed past many that he could have helped as he made his way to his own home, nor the fact that they had been attacked because of him. These new creatures had given him the chance to defend himself, but he found that he couldn’t, he had to take responsibility over what had happened, deserved whatever punishment they gave him. 

               He had been made to serve them at all hours, and he found that, despite the rude treatment he received, the hits, the mocking, there was no worse punishment than letting him live, than living on while his Anna had been murdered, that the death of all those people rested on his shoulders. He could still hear her everywhere, and that only helped to aggravate the hole in his chest and worsen the nightmares that he suffered ever since that day. 

               He had tried to take his life, but the oath he had made to the Wild Hunt kept him from dying, he had been sure he would soon be losing his mind, he could not do anything without feeling the weight of his conscience on his shoulders, darkening his every thought. He found that his dreams were the worst, so he had decided to avoid sleeping altogether. This had proved futile as he could barely work properly as is, much less with heavy eyelids, which cost him a beating that had rendered him unconscious, victim once again to his nightmares. 

               His desperation and anxiety seemed to be reaching their limit when he had met her, she looked simultaneously like a young woman and an old lady, there was an air or wisdom that danced around her and made him trust her, she had offered him a potion that would help energize him so that he would not need sleep. He had learned his lesson, and asked what she wanted in return, to which she said that she only wanted his love. 

He had backed away from her, saying no one would ever replace his Anna, and the lady’s eyes lit up. “That’s what I want, for you to give me the memories of your love. I will not take it all away, you will still remember how she made you feel, what you did together, but no image from it, like the marks left on the page below the one where you drew a painting or wrote a letter –like the letters he had written when he had given Anna every souvenir from his travels, he thought as a pang erupted in his chest--; you will hear her, but you will not remember her voice as it once was. Give me that, and I’ll make it so that you don’t have nightmares again as long as you take the potion. You’ll need only call on me once you have finished each vial, and, each time, I will take a new memory, a fair exchange I believe, do you not?” 

               Galiel had felt conflicted, but he reasoned that either way his memory would eventually start failing him naturally, and maybe this would help lessen the pain her image brought him, he could still see her and hear her everywhere, only now it no longer brought him peace but turmoil. Ever since that dreadful day when his light had perished, he had not known happiness or calm, only guilt and fear. 

So he had accepted, and the potion had worked exactly as the old lady had said, not only did he need no sleep, he would no longer have awake nightmares and his body would need no rest. But he had also noticed that there was something missing, he no longer felt the need to hide, he no longer felt the need to be cautious towards the Hunters, it was like he had been subject to a voice that would feed him ideas about how he had to be careful, that he had to work hard to make them stop bothering him, but he shook his head of that thought. 

               There was a new voice now, and it said that he should not need to do something if he did not want to do it, or that the Hunters could do everything on their own and that he owed them nothing –even if that was not true, and he knew that—but everything she said, he believed, needed to. 

                A couple of weeks went by and he felt better than ever, he had noticed that the potion seemed to make him a little more energetic than he needed, but he had paid it no mind, happy that it was doing what it was supposed to. He had also noticed that he became a little disoriented at times, sometimes he would find himself doing something or being somewhere with no recollection of how he had gotten there. By that time, he had already befriended the voice that whispered around him at all times, and she always answered when he called, she had said he was her favourite and that they would soon be together. This thought made him a little uncomfortable, he did not know why, but that was not something he desired, but he would never tell her that, he needed her to help him. 

               It was not until a few more weeks went by that he started noticing that something was wrong, he was experiencing periods of disorientation more and more frequently, he was also angry a lot, and the voice had warned him that the Hunters would be trying to kill him soon –maybe poison? Maybe torture? He could think of a variety of ways that they could kill him, and, surprisingly, he found that he dreaded them all. He no longer wanted to die, why would he? He could no longer remember what had made him want it anymore. She told him that they no longer needed him, even after everything he had done for them. 

               The fear that had evaded him since he had first taken the potion invaded him fully now, so he stopped eating, drinking, or leaving his room. He had decided that he could only trust the voice and the lady, so he would only consume the potion as his only sustenance. This proved to be difficult as he now needed more of it to keep his energy, which he would surely need as he had noticed that a fair haired Hunter seemed to be tailing him whenever he went out of his room. He had seen him before, he slept with the Unseelie Prince, and Galiel knew how ruthless he could be with a weapon. Maybe it was him who had been sent to kill him? He made sure to keep away from his gaze at all times because of it, but then Gwyn had called upon him, telling him that he should take a few days to take a rest as he had seen that he seemed to require it to properly perform his duties to the Hunt.. 

               He felt as if he should have been happy, but the voice started saying sweetly “Do you not see? They need you so little that they would rather leave you for a few days, maybe they are trying to free you so that you may have a head start and then hunt you down themselves, maybe that’s why they are called Hunters?” He had shaken his head, overcome by fear, and made sure to go to a very crowded place as soon as he stepped foot on land. 

               The days that followed had been a blur, he had been given some gold coins and he used them all in liquor and ladies. He had felt confused at the pang of guilt that he experienced as he talked or approached any woman, but he had paid it no mind. He had become concerned as he noticed how much of the vial he had been taking. Before, it would last him a few weeks, maybe a month even, now, it only lasted him a few days, and he could see how much more resistant to it his body had become with the effects now only lasting for a few hours before he was overcome with tremors, nausea and the worst, tiredness. 

               He started feeling anxious as he noticed that the potion was running low that he drowned his sorrows in more liquor, feeling how it numbed his senses, knowing that the potion would prevent him from falling asleep even while inebriated. He was surrounded by what felt like hundreds of people, but he still felt empty, alone, and guilty. He had called it a night as he felt his hands twitching, and his eyes droop heavily, a sign that he needed to take his fix from the vial. He reached his hand to the pocket where he usually kept it and drew a sharp intake of breath as he found nothing. His heart started beating faster and his tremors increased in intensity, this time for the fear and anxiety coursing through him, he patted and checked every pocket that he could think of, even went back to his booked chambers to see if he had left it there, but came to the same result time and time again. 

               He ran to the forest, terrified and desperate, he could feel the last effects of the potion wearing out and he dreaded what would happen once it finally went out of his system. He had called out to the lady, she had said that she would always come to him if he called. He had started with a whisper, that had been sufficient in the past, he stood there waiting for the gush of wind that accompanied his friend for a few seconds, which was usually what it took for her to come to him. 

A few minutes passed and she had not come, and he could feel the adrenaline pumping through his system, he felt useless, without the potion he was no one. He could not remember, and he had not tried either, to remember what had forced him on this path, but he could not see any other way beside it, the voice that sang to him had become his everything, and he needed to make her proud, needed to make her see that he was worthy of her. As he screamed for the lady, he could hear her laughing in his head, and he felt her nearby, he saw her through the distance but, when he tried to get closer, she would be still standing feet away, even if she had not moved at all. He waited for her to tell him something, anything, but she continued gazing at him with pity and amusement in her eyes, a mix that he had not even known could exist. 

            What happened next felt too much like something he had lived before, the old lady snapped her fingers and showed a new face, it felt familiar, and felt fear seeping through his bones, even if he could not move his limbs from the excruciating weight, too exhausted as the last traces of the potion were being consumed. His eyes were glazing over, and he asked for the potion, begged for it, but the now young lady would not give it to him, she merely shook her head and laughed, saying he no longer had anything left to give her, she started backing out as she disappeared through the woods, and he, like always, was too powerless to do anything about it.

           He snapped out of his thoughts and realized that that had happened in his head, that he was still screaming for help in the middle of the woods, and, to his surprise, it came from the Hunt. They took him back and to his room, but he was too tired to even consider fight against going there. He knew that, as soon as he even saw the fabric he used as a bed, he would collapse and fall victim to whatever he had been escaping from. He knew nothing and still he knew that he could not fall asleep; so he worked, he realized that he could barely stand, and saw that everyone else could see it as well, they even seemed to take pity on him, no longer asking him for anything, even when he asked, but he had been too tired to do something about it. 

             The desperation he felt was almost like déjà vu, he had a feeling that he had lived through it before but could not pinpoint what. The only thing that was keeping him mostly sane was her, the voice, she had been the only one that stood by him and never left, she would tell him that she was worried over him, about how close they were to be together for eternity, “you only have to stay awake a little longer”, “honey, you look tired, you should cut your thigh so that we can talk some more”, “your eyes are drooping, stick your hand in the water, you will feel better”, “you know I only do this because I love you”, she was always taking care of him, and he was so grateful. 

         She was always there, beside him, guiding him through his pain, though he had forgotten long ago what had caused it. He now felt as the shadow of remorse, a carcass of guilt that riddled within him, he felt like he was going insane, he could see from the corner of his eye as if someone was following him, watching from afar with eyes full of disappointment. He felt a pang in his chest that forced him to work harder on those days, to strive to become better, to be better, but it was fruitless, he could never outrun the shadows lurking behind him or the whispers from the night. He may not experience the nightmares anymore, but they still had ways of getting their message across and they would not stop until he had succumbed to them. 

         It was not until a fateful night of fall, the wind had been silent and the Hunt was riding through the air in a jovial and celebratory manor. They had been singing and dancing, each and every creature seemed to be in tune with the spirit, even he felt a little uplifted by the scenery. The voice, Giltiné, had been saying that they would soon meet and that they would find a way to ride together forever, away from the hunt and the nightmares that he could never outrun. 

            Every hunter had been caught off guard, the ambush had been unforeseeable, they came up from thin air and unleashed calamity and devastation with them. To his surprise, the hunters had surrounded him to protect him almost instantaneously and he found that he felt touched by the gesture. He knew that he had been the worst servant they could have possibly asked for, and they were still willing to protect him without sparing a second thought to it. This realization was broken as nausea settled in his gut as he saw how these hunters were being slaughtered mercilessly in front of him, each of them finding their demise in the hands of an unknown savage who was visibly smiling under their cloak. He soon realized that the barrier the hunters had formed to protect him was broken, leaving him in a very compromised position. He quickly took a blade from one of the fallen Hunters and used it to block attacks that came his way. 

           The adrenaline was pumping through his veins, but it soon started to weigh him down, his movements started becoming more erratic, the blade becoming more and more heavy to lift or to deflect. He had been ready to give up when he saw her, Gilitné, as the cloaked stranger lifted the cape from their features. He staggered back and found himself to be speechless. At this, she simply said through their bond: “I did this for you, this was the only way we could be together. You always said how detested the hunters and how they forced you to stick by them, to serve them. Now, that is no longer an issue, now you can come to me and we will dream happily for the rest of our lives.” As she said this, her eyes were reflecting the night sky and the blood shining from her sword. She seemed to be happy, oblivious to the devastation that she had brought on her wake. 

               She opened her arms in invitation, and he found himself almost floored with the need to fall on her and accept her offer. He felt himself getting closer, almost on their own accord to her, and the way her smile lit only served to make him reject his instincts further. He was becoming afraid, he realized that his limbs were following her whim as they had become used to throughout their whole relationship and suddenly, he realized that she had used him. He grunted and asked her: “What is happening? Why are you doing this?” to which she feigned innocence, tilting her head to the side, and widening her eyes in wonder as she brought her index finger toward her lip. 

               “Me? I am only finishing what I started. You wanted to keep your poor wife alive even when you knew she was in pain, you were being selfish, and I just wanted what was best for her. So, when you offered anything, I made sure to repay every second of misery she wasted by your side.” She snapped her fingers, and he felt a click inside of his head, and a rush of memories were now filling up the void that he had been savouring. He could now remember the suffering he had witnessed that day, when the Hunt came for him, he could see the pile of bodies and Gilitné laughing maniacally as she taunted him for the deaths of his people. He still felt there was something missing, for he knew that either his mind or she was blocking what had truly driven him insane the past few months. 

         He became enraged with the onslaught of images that were flashing through his head and charged toward her. Her eyes snapped even wider and her smile became even larger, now showing a long black tongue that she used to wet her lips in delight after tasting the blood of one of the hunters she had slain. This only fueled his anger and fervor to fight for the brothers and sisters he had lost to her, now and then. She seemed amused by this reaction and snapped her finger, which forced his legs to stop abruptly and for him to fall on his face because of it. He stumbled to get back on his feet, using the blade to aid him doing so. 

          Gilitné simply sauntered back and sat on top of a pile of Hunters that was near. She inspected her nails thoughtfully as she allowed for him to get up before speaking: “You did not think I would make this easy for you, did you? You need to earn the glory of fighting with me, so you will first need to slay my chosen guard. As soon as she said it, a roar could be heard and a drumming commenced in the vicinity, all announcing the coming of the guard. 

He knew that he was running out of time, and that he would soon collapse because of the fatigue, the adrenaline crash that would soon make an appearance again was all putting him at a disadvantage, without mentioning the control Gilitné had over him and his body. As the noises grew nearer, he became more and more anxious, ready to pounce and kill. And he did, as he rushed and screamed at the oncoming figure, he barely had time to stop and recognize the woman in front of him, who simply opened her mouth in the shape of an “o” as she fell on her knees when his blade went through her. He collapsed on his knees as he recognized her, his Anna, and that’s when he realized this was all still a game. Gilitné had actually saved her, the sole survivor of the massacre, only for him to pay for it by being the one to bring her to her death. 

               He could see that the light had been gone from her eyes almost instantaneously, the last picture she had seen of him had been one completely different from the Galiel she had married, one merciless, ruthless and furious, completely devoid of the love and attentiveness he had showed her. He knew that this was his punishment, but he felt it too high and cruel. His Anna didn´t deserve this death, it was he who deserved to die with his last image being of betrayal, not his Anna who, even now, still seemed to be watching him with love and forgiveness, always merciful and kind. He screamed and laid his late wife on some clean and soft fabric that the hunters had used to keep themselves warm during the winter. 

               He turned to face Gilitné and found her smirking at the scene: “you know she's dead, right? I doubt she can appreciate the gesture, even if it was from the ever-loving husband she would always swear would save her. How cruel can fate be sometimes, don´t you agree?”

               She smiled at the tears that fell from his eyes: “you deserve this, every last bit of suffering has been your doing, so don´t even try and pretend it was all my fault, I held on to my end of the deal, and now I can collect.” She suddenly disappeared from her spot and reappeared in front of him, her long nails now dripping with blood he soon realized came from the gash she had cut on his neck. He applied pressure and quickly fell to the floor, his vision was slowly fading and he found more comfort in the thought of death than sleep, so he laughed in her face and watched as his last image was of her urging him to tell her what was so funny. 

               That night, a lot of Hunters mourned their fallen brothers, most of them only sustained some severe injuries, but there had been a few casualties. As they sent their bodies on the small canoes to shoot a flaming arrow, they found that Galiel´s remains were missing, and still they lit an arrow in his remembrance. 

            Mark could see the fatigue in the eyes of their team; their sleeping schedules had been very limited as they knew that anyone could recognize them at any moment. They had even jokingly called out how inconspicuous of a team they were before their departure, the consort of the Unseelie King, a war hero and the Lost Heir that had the power to rule both realms of they Fey. 

            Maybe telling them Galiel’s story had not been the best idea, especially during the very high stakes mission they were traversing, but they had seemed enraptured by the story. No doubt being able to recognize parts on themselves in how fiercely they yearned for those they loved to the point of forgetting about everyone else. Herondales were famous for it and, however “out of the loop” – as Christina liked to call him – he may be, he knew longing when he saw it, and the Herondales reeked of it to his amusement, so he tried to ask about their loves to offer them a welcome distraction. 

            Jace was very happy to talk about Clary nonstop; Kit was more closed off, but he assumed it was just teenage angst as Julian would call it. Despite everything, their group dynamic was quite seamless, they seemed to be able to read each other quite well and the silences felt comfortable instead of tense. He could, therefore, see the shadows under each of their eyes and how careful and seriously they were taking their mission. At night, he could hear Jace´s sleeping whispers for Clary and Kit´s murmurs to the stars. 

            He was quite sure that he had heard his sibling’s names from the Lost Herondale a couple times, one more than others; but he was not sure if it had truly been him or his own thoughts. He had been busy and had way less time than he would have preferred to dedicate to his family, so he made up his mind to make sure that that changed as soon as this mission was over. 

           They had taken a short break by a lake to gather essentials such as water, food in the form of wild berries and meat (he was in charge of that as he would not tempt fate by a Herondale’s boisterous hand while on a secret missiion, he had been taught better), and rest. He was broken out of his thoughts by a loud yawn coming from Kit, the young boy seemed more and more energetic the closer they were to their destination, and he found himself feeling a tenderness within him for the other boy. 

            He could still see him and his siblings playing and fighting outside of the Institute a few years ago while he had been staying with them and could tell how he still flinched at their mention. He had been upset, but now only found himself more than willing to help the young Lost Heir find his way back to his family and claim back the years they had lost. 

           He laughed as he saw Kit kick Jace awake, who quickly ran away as the other sprinted to him and caught him by the waist and tackled him to the ground. With that, they took up on their way and found themselves excited for the way to go. 

         Mark found himself a little restless for their situation but vowed to ensure that Galiel’s fate would not be repeated. 

            As they drew nearer to Faerie, there were more and more eyes they needed to evade. So Kit, ever the odd one, claimed that as the fellow bisexual, he would be in charge of their makeovers. Mark was appalled as he too was a bisexual AND a faerie, so he was the obvioius choice to be in charge of the makeovers for this mission, to which Kit consented with a pout. Jace looked oddly affronted at being the minority and also upset at his cousin for saying “have you seen you? you look so much like a narc that I’m not surprised you were hitting on your sister” to everyone’s shock and amusement. Especially when Jace just turned red and shrieked “that was a lie and only for a few months and you know it!”. 

            Mark was honestly proud of their disguises, he used sacks of rice, greenery and anything he could find in nature to hide their features. The Herondales took this in stride and were competing over “who wore it best” to which the oldest Blackthorn just shook his head and refused to feed their egos or answer “who could make a rice sack work”. He was feeling more and more at home and he was not sure whether it was faerie, the company, or both. 

            The continued marching on the path, Mark sharing his knowledge as they evaded every surefire way of finding their demise: the poison berries, the dancing circles, the damsel asking for help by the edge of the forest. He patiently explained how Faerie, despite uncomprehendingly beautiful, yearned for power and seeked it at whatever cost, usually one’s life if you fall prey to it. 

            They reached a part of town that had housed him previously and he knew to be safe. No one seemed to recognize any of them to which they released a sigh of relief for. They had supper and took a bath in their respective rooms, having decided to sleep on a bed and get proper rest before going through the last leg of their journey. Tomorrow, Mark gathered, they would reach Kieran. He felt a little apprehension. He had sent an acorn to announce their visit but wondered of Kieran’s reaction to seeing him again on such short notice. He hoped their reunion would be enough to quench his anxiety, though he felt guilty for not bringing Christina along as she knew how she missed her King as well. He promised he would ask Kieran for a token for her on his behalf to make it up to her, he thought as he felt himself being loomed into sleep.

            He should have known better than to trust a Herondale to not get himself in trouble. In regular circumstances, that would be expected. In Faerie, it was a certainty. A big commotion awoke him and he instantly knew that it was time to go. As he made it out of the door, he saw that Jace was also coming out of his room with the same expression he had to be sporting. This was bad, this could only mean one thing: 

            Kit was in trouble. 

            Ever the soldiers, they both made their way calmly to the crowd and each took a side to gauge the situation better. They both knew how dire it would be if Kit were to be discovered, so they had to be ever so cautious to avoid gathering attention and to ensure that Kit could be rescued swiftly. Suddenly, he thought of Tiberius, and felt a knot in his throat at how he would react if he failed in rescuing the Lost Heir. Tiberius was highly logical, he would remember everything that sparked his fancy, but he kept people at arms length naturally, never letting them close. Kit had been an anomaly, and his other siblings had been happy to see Tiberius make friends outside of Livvy, but also jealous at the warmth he showed Kit and Livvy only. 

            Saving Kit had been important on a regular day, but now the pressure felt a hundredfold as he knew his sibling could not bare more losses. So he swore to protect Kit with everything he had. He saw the same feeling reflected in Jace’s face, the last member of his blood family was in danger and this Herondale would not back down until he made sure the other was safe. 

            They could see the crowd was running after the boy, who showed great skill in evading them. He skirted them through alleys, tents and food stands. They had made rounds through the place, their patrol training hard to break, and therefore had a good understanding of the terrain, no doubt helping them now. Mark and Jace looked at each other, nodded and went on their separate ways to do damage control and rescue Kit. 

            As they each made their way, they felt increasingly anxious as the crowd became bigger and angrier, looking confused. They started to understand why as they met each other in the middle, with no Lost Heir to account for. 

            To this, Mark saw Jace pale a little and look around concerned, no doubt fearing the worst. Mark squeezed his arm and pointed to the inn to go back and come up with a plan. They walked quietly but with determination to not attract attention. The crowd was running wild, looking all over for the assailant and they would use the distraction for their benefit. They were about to round the corner when Jace was pickpocketed and turned around, quickly grabbing the culprit. He looked ready to attack when they recognized the features of the person under the glasses, hoodie and fake beard, hands lifted in the air to paint a perfect picture of innocence contrasting with the smirk and raised eyebrows that he was showing them. “I told you I should have been in charge of the makeovers”, he said. 

            Jace let out a breath he looked like he had been holding since this whole ordeal started, hugged Kit and saw the other tense slightly before hugging the other back. Mark simply patted him on the back and head to ensure himself that he was indeed real and not an illusion. After a couple seconds passed, Jace retreated from the hug, gave him one last glance over to ensure no harm or injuries had come to him. Once satisfied, he whacked him in the head, askewing his glasses and beard out of place, and whispered “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU ALMOST GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK” 

            Kit looked a liittle guilty, shoving his hands in the hoodie pockets while he looked down. “Sorry, I was just bored and went on a stroll but some dude stole a book and tried to pin it on me. I was able to lose them though, so all good” he showed his winning smile but they were still not convinced. They were about to ask more questions when they heard a gasp and saw someone pointing at Kit with recognition, now noticing that the whack indeed kind of ruined the illusion. 

            Uh oh.

            They all started running before the crowd started upon them, going through alleyways, putting up fake leads to buy them time. They were having fun for a while untiil they came up to a dead-end, the crowd closing in on them. 

            This was it, there was no way out of this but through, and they did not like their chances without completely ruining their cover. It would be three against at least thirty. Jace’s gaze turned steely as he advanced towards the crowd first, Kit grabbed him by his sleeve “What are you doing? Are you crazy?”

            “I’m giving you and Mark a running start, if they recognize me, I´m still protected by the accords, but you would be in much more danger, and I can’t have that”

            Kit looked as if struck for only a microsecond, like he’s still surprised when people want to sacrifice for him. Not because of who he was, but because they cared. Both Mark and Jace saw Kit’s eyes turn a little misty before he composed himself. “I’m sorry, if I was looking for a self-sacrificing idiot early in the morning, I would look in the mirror, so stop trying to be the hero and let’s figure this out together”

            Jace simply snorted and shook his head, looking towards Mark who knew what was being asked of him “Keep him safe”, as if there had been another option. He knew Kit would be upset with him, but he was already grabbing him by the arms while Jace turned around, he felt more than heard the terror coursing through Kit before his silent scream engulfed his senses, surrounding them in white light before everything turned dark. 

            Mark tried to figure out where he was and what had happened when he heard Jace and Kit’s groans. They seemed to be alone, but in a dark and unfamiliar place. Kit shook off from the floor and tried to find his stele for a nightvision rune, to avoid being discovered when suddenly he shivered. 

            It seemed all of them collectively recognized the feeling of being watched as they stopped, the only sound a soft grumble from a corner. They seemed to be in a greenhouse, and it was either covered or it was midnight. As they tried to ascertain their surroundings and each other’s locations without making a sound, Mark could not help but fear that this may be a trap from Faerie, they may have inadvertently disrupted a noble or be partaking in one of the games where you are not to come out of alive. 

            Seconds tick by, with only their heartbeats as background noise as they try to control their breathing to not disclose their location to whatever is lurking by in the dark. Suddenly, something jumped a few feet in front of them though they could not see what, only that it was opening its big yellow eyes and gazing upon them from above.

Chapter Text

Kit had always felt like an outsider. Be it at the shadowmarket, at his former high school, or even at home. Even though he had not known he was a Herondale until somewhat recently, the crushing weight of people’s expectations on him was an all too familiar feeling for him as it has suffocated him from early memory. Sure, at the beginning they were all bad as they expected him to be everything Rook stood for: cunning, ruthless, a force to be reckoned with. 

Now, that feeling was replaced by everyone expecting that he fulfilled the role that his last name stood for, perfect fighter, perfect soldier, perfect sacrifice. He would also rather not think about the other side of the Herondale family that were considered traitors0 which was his actual line, but he tried to stick to the positives here. 

All Kit knew was that he felt like a perfect nobody, an impostor. How could anyone expect HIM, newly discovered Nephilim to catch up to a lifetime of shadowhunter training? Not to mention, he also needed to master his fey abilities, while keeping on the down low to avoid being discovered or risk suffering the same fate as every single one of his ancestors from his mom’s side while trying to maintain a healthy balance and dedicate time to his family and being the brother he would have loved to grow up with. No big deal.

Kit was exhausted. He had always yearned to have somewhere, someone, to turn to when things became overwhelming. He had always believed that he would live and die alone, so he was content with going on adventures to find that place that would bring him the solace he needed. 

Against all of his expectations, now that he had people that he trusted and loved, he tried to be that place and person he needed all those times. One unexpected discovery, other than the fact that he absolutely suuuuucks at remembering his dreams, consoling people and expressing his feelings– let’s not think about that – is that he seems to be able to broadcast his emotions when in stress or surprise.

At first, it was subtle, people would laugh a little louder than necessary when he was making jokes (though he did not find anything odd about that as he was a great storyteller, thank you very much), or a downworlder here or there would pretend not to notice him stealing things from their stalls in the market when he was particularly sad, those times when he was just looking for a fight or attention wherever he could find it. 

As much as he knew how stealthy of a mug he could pull, he also knew that he was making it obvious so that he’d be caught, and he had recognized the feelings in the owner’s eyes sometimes, mirroring his own grief in a way. He had had no way of explaining it then, now he knew that it was most likely linked to his faerie blood and Last Heir powers. 

He and Tessa had been working on this particular skill as he wanted to control it, and they had made great progress. He loved to shower his family in his pride and admiration when words failed. Which, again, let’s not talk about it, but it was most of the time. 

Sometimes he used it when Tessa was reading a book, and he laid his head on her lap; or when he was messing with Jem so bad during their training that he could see the other getting exasperated. During those times, he would try to send a warm feeling their way, so that they’d be able to feel how safe he was feeling. Tessa and Jem were saps, of course, and they would always be moved to almost tears so he tried to use it sparingly as he was just not good at consoling people, okay? 

Mina was his favourite person in general, but also to practice this ability on. When they were playing and she was happy, he’d try to double it by sharing how happy he also was feeling. When she fell down or felt scared, he’d shower her with the reassurance that he felt knowing that she was safe and he’d never allow anything bad to happen to her. 

Right now, watching a pair of yellow eyes in front of them, Kit felt none of that reassurance. He could feel from the second that Mark started grabbing him from behind that he was broadcasting pure fear to everyone around; which, now that he thinks about it, is straight up embarrassing for the mysterious persona he was trying to go for while in faerie. 

He had lost control as he thought of Jace, perfect soldier, and the last member of his blood family, potentially getting hurt from his plan. Not only that, along with his little broadcast, he also seemed to have transported them to God-(Raziel?, damn, he sucked at being a shadowhunter)-knows-where and now they were back in danger from whatever that is preying upon them. 

So, yeah, a perfect mess is what he is.

The first thing he did when the white light vanished and he realized what had happened, was reach a hand to ensure that the book that had started this whole thing was still there, in his left jacket pocket, safe. 

He wished the fae would have been as moved by his powers as the downworlders had been back then, but luck has seldom been on his side, and it makes sense that they would not be moved by his rampant mess of emotions. He was trying to figure out what their next move should be when suddenly, the lights turned on and the group turned to see no other than Catarina Loss, arms crossed, leaning on the frame of the door and looking expectantly with an eyebrow raised.

“Is anyone going to explain why I have three non-student Shadowhunters in my school’s greenhouse?”, she says. To this, the group collectively sigh in relief before remembering the yellow eyed creature from before. 

It seemed to be some kind of mountain cat and it did not appear enthused by their company. They were looking back and forth between these two, waiting for an explanation or for the thing to finally attack them when Catarina just sighed and said “Okay, let’s go to my office before Irene gets more upset”

Kit gasped and asked “the woman?”, to which Mark threw a very confused and disappointed look towards him and said, “No, it looks like some sort of Lynx”. 

Kit only rolled his eyes for a second while looking expectantly at Catarina, already dreading what her answer would be. If it was true, there was only one shadowhunter he knew that would name a Lynx a name  from a character from Sherlock Holmes. Not only that but, based on what Catarina said, they had to be at the Scholomance as she had been exclusively working there for years, which only served to strengthen his nerves and curse his power for seeking the one safe space he had been running from for years in his moment of weakness.

Catarina just let her smirk grow wider and led them out of the greenhouse with a nod of her head, which Jace was only too happy to follow along while dragging Mark along with him who waved the cat goodbye before leaving. 

Kit, on the other hand, was almost about to ask to stay with Irene only to avoid running into everything he had been looking forward to and fearing from the second he left the Los Angeles Institute. He did not though. Catarina’s reaction made him realize that she most likely knew exactly what caused this reaction and he really wanted to avoid her teasing in front of Jace and, worst of all, the actual subject of the fear’s brother. 

He guessed this makes sense as she was one of Magnus’ friends, who had actually witnessed the whole thing and had asked him about Ty once or twice during his visits to his parents (or what felt like a million times, but who’s counting). 

Turns out that her office is near the library and the weapons room, which Jace and Mark were excited about checking out and so left them after Catarina assured them they were welcome to explore. Kit did stay with her as he really needed to gather his thoughts somewhere where, hopefully, no stunningly smart and handsome surprise (Raziel, please shut up) might appear out of nowhere. 

Once he heard the click from Catarina’s office’s door closing, he collapsed on the chair in front of him and said “ you didn’t answer my question, don’t think I forgot”. Catarina raised one eyebrow as she sat on the chair in front of her desk. “I thought the answer was rather… elementary.” 

Fuuuuuck. 

Kit sits upright, now self-conscious and flustered. While he had been sure of the answer, to have it confirmed made the pit in his stomach gape open. Ty lived here, he had a pet Lynx, and he was but a few meters away from him. 

Kit had admired how majestic the Scholomance was while on his way to his office – he had really been trying to distract himself, and also maybe see if he could glimpse at a certain set of black hair, sue him– he could see how well he must fit here, with all the great shadowhunter students. Ty had always excelled at everything he set his mind to. He could imagine him roaming the halls with a book in hand or just blasting some music on his headphones while the rest of the school passed by and admired him.

He was pulled from his daydreaming by Catarina clearing her throat. Right, this is not the time for this…

“If Ty is what you seek, I’m afraid you just missed him.” Catarina said. 

Kit opened and closed his mouth for a little longer than necessary, like a fish out of water. 

“Oh…” 

While it’s true that he had been dreading the reunion, to know that he would not get to see him hurt more than expected. His disappointment must have been plastered on his face as Catarina gave him a soft smile and decided to change the topic. 

“Tell me, was the young Blackthorn the only reason for your unexpected visit?” 

Now he was clearing his throat, he could feel a tell-tale burn in his cheeks that meant that he was surely turning red at the other shadowhunter’s mention. There was nothing particularly incriminating to the question, but knowing that she most likely knew of his feelings for the other and taking into account that she must be close to him to know his pet Lynx by name left Kit a little rattled and wanting to make a good impression. 

“No, we were in Faerie because we have been investigating some weird happenings that we believe may be tied to it. Long story short, they decided to start chasing me and apparently we must have run into a tunnel or portal while running from them and we are now here.”

Kit may not be good at some things, but lying and coming up with stories to cover his tracks was something he was really good at. The Rook in him still alive and kicking, although a little rusty, but he rolled with it. He could feel Catarina gauging his reaction, her stare calculating, looking for a way to challenge his story. It was futile though; faerie was too much of a mystery even to someone as wise and powerful as Catarina Loss. He debated telling her the truth, but he knew now was not the time. They were still not sure who were allies and foes to the Last Heir. He trusted Catarina, but he did not trust the Scholomance.

I mean, who could trust the institution that once housed Zara Dearborn? He would not be surprised if they had bugged the place or something to bring the new administration to the ground. 

He promised he would tell her one day, just not here. He tried to blast this feeling into her to appease any trepidation she may have, keeping his best poker face on and activating his puppy dog eyes so that she would drop the topic for now. 

She sighed and shook her head. “You Nephilim can never give us a break, can you? Now, tell me, what can we do for you and your investigation?” 

This he could work with, “I may have… accidentally… ‘taken’ a book from a little stall in faerie. It may have something to do with why they were chasing us, but don’t tell Jace and Mark, they were not with me when that happened and I want to know what this is first”. With that, he brought out the book from his left jacket pocket. 

He had been walking around a little market in faerie, looking for something though he did not know what. He just knew something was calling out to him, almost by name. He was perusing around, not feeling drawn to anything until he passed the little book stall near the center. This one looked different from the others, from faerie even. While all shared a general nature aesthetic with the green and brown motifs, full of life and mystery; this one felt still, ancient, and Kit had felt like a compass with the stall being north, his next target.

He did not know why, but he sensed it may contain the answers he was looking for from the chills and goosebumps that broke throughout his skin when he entered. It was smaller than the other stalls, only one bookshelf right in front of the empty register. He had not been meaning to buy anything, just look around and maybe skim some faerie books, he had to learn somewhere about faerie being the Last Heir, why not here?  

He had checked some books out, quickly getting bored (he was more of a book listener after all), until he saw it. It was a small, slim book, its cover made from wood. At first he had thought it a part of the bookshelf, or maybe a bookstop, but the second his fingers touched it, he felt pure electricity run through him. He gasped as a vision blasted through his eyes: 

Ty, on the ground, taking big gasps and shaking. There was no wound he could find, no blood seeping through his clothes. The Kit from the vision was kneeling beside Ty, his hands fluttering around him, trying to stop the inevitable. When he grabbed his hands, he could see that they were so similar from the ones that had held him in the rooftop years ago, but the then alabaster skin was now covered in black veins. 

They looked painful, and, on closer inspection, he could see that they seemed to have spread everywhere, he could see some peeking from his neck and ankles; his eyes also showing some in the corners. Still, Ty looked resigned, like he had accepted his fate, he could see the light from his eyes dimming, not before locking with his, tears starting to form in his own. He saw his mouth opening and saying something, but the vision had disappeared as quickly as it started, preventing him from hearing what Ty had to say.

He blinked away, not quite sure how long that vision had lasted, it felt like a second and an eternity at once. He had almost dropped the book out of sheer reflex, the memory still too fresh in his brain and the shock coursing through his veins at full speed. 

He was unsure if this might be a new power that is developing or if it’s warning from whatever higher power wrote this book. Maybe it was telling him to stay away, or maybe it was showing him a way to prevent his vision. 

The temptation had been too big, and old habits die hard I guess. He had made sure there was still no one in the stall before stuffing it in his jacket and walking at a normal pace to avoid suspicion. It had obviously not worked, as he had still had to run from a horde of faerie trying to apprehend him a few seconds after and put his company in danger and now in the Scholomance for this little shenanigan. 

Catarina was not enthused, but she just proceeded to shake her head at the end story. Stealing from faerie was incredibly dumb, but she was hardly surprised by Shadowhunter’s actions anymore. When Kit had shown her the book, she had almost cackled. The book was no other than the pair to the one Tiberius had previously taken an interest on from her office. Magnus had said that these two shadowhunters were connected in a special way, but she knew this was not what he had necessarily meant –though he had also refused to elaborate, so she was a little weary on exactly what could be so serious for the great Magnus Bane to abstain from gossip–, so to see this now before her very eyes was particularly amusing. 

She had seen the fey tormenting humans and shadowhunter alike, so she chose to not focus on the vision for now. She did however, notice that the young Shadowhunter in front of her was slowly unraveling from this retelling, probably stemming from his own inexperience with the Seelies. While the young Herondale was less sheltered than the regular shadowhunters, having grown up in the Shadow market, the fae were a mystery to everyone, their tales too ancient for even themselves to understand as most of their scriptures were written in languages long lost or in song that dated before language itself. 

She of all people knew best, having been the one who spared the Herondale that was lost by the Seelies, remembering all too well how Tobias Herondale had once also been lost in visions and, in turn, lost everything. While caring for Ephraim, the son of Tobias and Eva, had brought her many joys, the shadows that that family had endured still weighed heavily on her shoulders. And here, now, was the descendant of that very same line, showing the exact same burden that she had perceived in Tobias’ eyes so long ago. Hundreds of years had passed, and still the memory felt so fresh, the wound barely scabbed, and she knew that this time she would make sure that the mistakes of the past would not be repeated. At least this time they still had time on their side. 

She decided to distract him by retrieving said book. “Well, I am glad that your adventure led you here, Kit. As it so happens that I own the pair to this particular volume you have and so we may begin to uncover what may be happening. Before you get all excited, we will have to go to the dorms to get it as I had planned to give it to Ty as a surprise for his return, so now we’ll have to go get it.”

To say that he was a nervous wreck would be an understatement. He knew it was illogical, Ty was not even there, but knowing that he’ll be in the same room Ty spent most of his day in was a little too much for him at the moment. He wondered if it would look similar to how he remembered his room from the Los Angeles Institute, all ordered chaos; books and tchotchkes strewn around in a way that felt intentional. Ty always said that he had a system, but one that only he could know about. He remembered him saying “The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes” one time he had asked about it. At the time, he had not recognized the quote, but by now it had become almost a mantra for when he wanted to tackle a new mystery that was afoot. 

A mantra was indeed what he needed now to uncover the mystery of who the hell was laying on Ty’s bed and stuffing their face in his pillow without killing someone in the process. 

Catarina and Kit had been having a lovely tour while walking towards Ty’s room, he apparently had a single room as he was part of an advanced program and seemed to require more alone time for his studies, which the Scholomance had readily accomodated for due to his excellent marks. Kit could feel how proud Catarina was from the way she was telling this story, and Kit also felt it knowing that Ty was achieving everything he had set out to do here. It was somewhat bittersweet to learn about it and not be there to experience it with him as they had talked about all those years ago. He felt as prepared as he would be when they arrived to the room and entered without much notice, as no one should have been there, or so they thought. 

As they opened the door and entered the room, the two of them and the stranger all froze. The stranger bolted upright, and brought his hands up in a show of innocence. He seemed to be taller than Kit (the bastard), he was blushing, and he was stammering Raziel-knows-what. Even if he had been making any sense, Kit would not have heard or understood any of it because the only thing that was plaguing his thoughts was that a tall, dark and handsome shadowhunter was on Ty’s bed, while shirtless, and also hugging his pillow. He felt as if someone had thrown him into a cold shower, accompanied by that very same jumpstart to your system that leaves you gasping and feeling like your heart is about to beat out of your chest. 

He had been so worried with how to get back into Ty’s life that he had not even considered if he was wanted there. From the looks of things, Ty had moved on and had even found himself a boyfriend that also happened to look nothing like Kit. Kit shook his head, that was uncalled for.

 He and Ty had been friends, Kit did not have any right to be jealous that he had found someone. He had been the one that left without saying goodbye and now he had to get used to the idea of Ty being someone’s partner and hope that they may still get to be friends. Ty deserved someone who wanted him to be happy, and that’s what he would be if Ty would still have him. 

Catarina had been the first to be broken out of the surprised stupor. Merely asking in a calm manner: “And what, pray tell, Mr. Joshi, are you doing in Mr. Blackthorn’s bedroom?” 

At this point, Mr. Joshi was scrambling to put on his shirt and proceeded to grab a packet from the night table next to Ty’s bed. “Uhh… I was asked by… Ty to come… and feed his pet chameleon while he was out! Yeah…” He said this a little winded and with a grin awkward enough that no one should have wanted to follow that up. Kit, however, was not a regular someone and he was, by all means, still feeling quite rattled by the whole interaction, so he said: “And that required you to be shirtless in Ty’s room and smelling his pillows?” while arching his eyebrows and grimacing. 

 He did not even realize when this had happened, but he was now a few steps into the room, had squared his shoulders up and with his back straight, his eyes scrutinizing every single movement in Mr. Joshi’s face, who was just looking redder and redder by the second until he seemed to come to a realization. 

“And who are you to come into Ty’s room while he’s not here? At least I was invited”, he says as he also goes completely straight and looks down at him.  

Damn it, he really is taller than him. 

Catarina steps in between them and says, “Invited or not, this is clearly a violation of Mr. Blackthron’s privacy. Anush, you should know Ty is very particular about his things so you being here, and in this state, is not appropriate.” 

Kit considers that he’s matured tremendously since Mina was born, he’s always wanted to be a good role model to her. But since she’s not here, he does stick his tongue out to Anush from behind Catarina and shows him the finger. Honestly, he thinks Mina would be proud of him for this. 

He can feel a smirk breaking in his face at Anush’s embarrassed complexion. Who, apparently, will not go down without a fight, as futile as it may be. “But… but, why can he be here and not me? You know Ty and I are very close. He does not mind me being here.” He had said this in a very defeated way, sitting on the bed and grabbing the pillow he had been hugging before.

It was almost too much for Kit to witness, who was this person? Were they really friends? More than friends? Would Ty really let him into his room?  

“Kit is here on official business. We are just here for a book that I gave Ty from my library and we’ll be on our way.” 

From the second his name was mentioned, Anush stopped listening to what Catarina was saying and now looked at Kit with anger. “Kit?, as in Kit Herondale? The Kit Herondale that abandoned the Blackthorns after the battle at the Imperishable Fields?”

Anush may have as well slapped him and it would have hurt less. While it was technically true, he could feel himself becoming defensive and followed up with “Also as in Kit, the only one Ty would trust to draw runes on him besides Livvy, the one that was there for him to sleep by his side at night, and the one whose pendant he still wears on his neck. Yes, that Kit.” 

He knew it was petty, and a little possessive, also partly a lie. Ty indeed asked him to draw runes on him from time to time back then, and he did wear his pendant (though only for protection), and they had had sleepovers, sure, though each in their own bed; except fo that time in the Imperishable Fields when they slept beside each other, but that was because they had been shackled together by Magnus after the ritual to ensure that they would not venture into battle alone. But Anush did not need to know that and he did love to take creative liberties. 

Anush looked livid, his nostrils flaring as he took a deep breath. “Oh yeah? Well, that was a long time ago, and Ty is not the same person that he was back then and I assure you that his nights look a lot different now…” 

Kit knew that no comeback would be enough for that, because it was true, Ty was not the same person he was back then. However, he did not need one as the door opened again and in came Jace, Mark and Irene. She seemed to have mellowed out and had followed them into the room and stared at the people already inside. 

Anush was the first to react, a little tense, calling out to Irene. “Here girl, you know me, come lay in bed. I know you love it there.” Irene did not seem enthused by him or his calls, she was glancing at the corner of the room. Kit’s eyes followed and there he saw Livvy.

The same Livvy that he remembered from the day she was slain by Annabelle. She was looking from the corner towards him directly, calculating. “Well if it is Kit Herondale… it was about time you would come around. I see you’ve met Irene… and Anush”, that last part she said with an eyeroll.

He winced but could not answer, so he just let her continue. “Since there are so many people around here, how about you just blink real slow for a yes and fast for a no, okay?”

Kit slow blinked and Livvy floated closer to Irene. “I know we have not seen each other since you gave me the pendant for Ty. It worked, but I know he misses you, you should try to reach out. Don’t try to pretend like you do not miss him”

Since this was not a yes or no question, he just looked towards the floor, played with his feet, and waited. Livvy sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose “I swear I have to do everything myself. Why have you not come to talk to him? I know you miss him too.”

And he did, he always tried to distract himself because the feeling was so much it hurt. He had had to stop himself from portalling here in pure fear, knowing that there was nothing he could do that would change the fact that he left them years ago after one of the most traumatic battles of their lives and never looked back. He knew that he himself had not been able to forgive himself for it, so how could they? How could Ty? And now it was too late, his eyes shifting to Anush who was still trying to call out to Irene. 

Livvy could see the internal battle within Kit and watch it morph into jealousy when his eyes shifted to Anush, to which she snorted out loud. “Believe me, you do not need to worry about Anush. He may have a crush on Ty, but Ty is not interested. They are just friends because Ty likes his cousin… in a friend way before you get even more jealous.” 

Kit’s eyes sparkled with relief, letting out a contented sigh that Irene immediately picked up on, her eyes locking on him. He could hear Livvy say “And don’t worry about Irene, she’s sweet. She has the same taste in people as Ty, so I’m sure she’ll love you” and giggled. Kit’s eyes bulged at the comment, wanting to ask more, but forgot all about it as Irene walked towards him and started rubbing her face against his legs. She then got on two legs and pushed him down so she could lay on him and watch the rest of the strangers from her new warm blanket. 

Said warm blanket was currently overjoyed. Not only had Ty’s pet taken a liking to him, it obviously disliked Anush to the point that she would hiss when he tried to get close to them. Kit and Irene were sitting on the way to the door, so there was no real path out of there without rousing her. 

Amused, Kit pet Irene’s neck and ears, and said, “When you said nights looked a little different I thought you meant something other than the sweet, little, gorgeous angel… and Irene” while looking straight at Anush. He really tried to contain his smirk, he really did. He could see Jace and Mark trying to contain their laughter, even Catarina seemed about ready to lose it. Livvy was having the time of her life, she did not seem to like Anush very much, cackling all the way while Anush stormed out of the room through the window to avoid upsetting Irene with no further comment.

All that bravado left his body as soon as Anush was out and he saw all of the others stare at him and break down laughing. All of them seemed full of surprise and gusto at his little stunt, but he was still mortified, so he covered his face with one hand, and continued petting Irene with the other. He really did want her to like him after all. 

“Can we just pretend that didn’t happen and go on with our lives, please.” 

To which Jace said: “ Hey, we’ve all been 19 and completely whipped and territorial before. Maybe not over someone you have not seen in over 4 years, but you know what they say, ‘Shadowhunters love only once’ and all that. No big deal.” to which Mark just nodded and looked at Kit with a face that made it all to obvious that he must be looking really pathetic considering how much he seemed to be fighting himself not to laugh at him.

Kit moaned and buried his face in Irene’s fur, it was actually really comfortable, but only made it all the much harder to confront the army of real shadowhunters that were waiting for him to do something. He sighed, head still in Irene’s fur, brought up one hand up with his pointer finger extended, and said “I do NOT want to talk about it, we are all apparently a little too aware of my feelings, and I will therefore not entertain any questions about it, have I made myself clear?” 

He could faintly hear the yeses over the loud purring from Irene. He slowly came up and continued petting Irene, gathering courage to meet the gaze of each of the people in the room to gauge their reaction. They all looked ready to laugh again, but not at him. Their eyes told him that it was more in a “we all know what that’s like” that made him feel at ease. 

He cleared his throat once more, and just pretended nothing had happened, “So what should we do now?”

“Now” said Catarina “you should stay here and collect all the information you may need from our library and replenish your energy. You all look tired and I will not have your deaths in my conscience. After that, it’s your choice, but I will not hear any discussion on this matter.” 

You may say Mark, Jace and Kit were not known to be rule-followers, but they were also not dumb. So they chose to stay in the Scholomance for no more than two days to gather information and rest before going back to faerie. Mark and Jace were assigned guests rooms, apparently the only two available ones, which meant Kit would  sleep in no other than Ty’s room. 

To say he was a little nervous was an understatement, but he could not deny that he was also excited to be staying here. He felt closer to Ty than he had been in four years. He did however, burn the pillows as he could not stop thinking of that Anush stuffing his face there, how all the scent was replaced and the idea of it made Kit’s skin crawl, so, naturally, that had been his only option. He will have to remember to get new ones before leaving, and ask Irene to look out for any intruders that might try to use them.  He also asked Livvy to make sure of this, just to be sure though. 

She seemed terribly amused and assured him that she would not let anyone else to mark Ty, not before saying “Unless he wants them to, in which case I would tell you to hurry up because your man is only getting hotter and people will no longer care that he’s a little weird (their words, not mine)  and start to go after him. In fact, they’ve already started to, as you’ve noticed.”

Kit could only remember the big teenage movies from when he was a kid, where they seemed to be juggling a thousand things like saving the world while still having to go to prom or something like that. Only now HE had to juggle shadowhunter training, faerie magic training, escaping from the people who want him dead, trying to find a solution that will prevent Ty from succumbing to the consequences of nechromancy, being a good cousin, son, AND being home by 10 to read his stories to Mina. Fun.

Since it was still morning, he decided to take it slow and do some research. During the tour before getting to Ty’s room, he had seen the library and so that’s where he went. While he was not an avid reader, he had always liked libraries, maybe because most of his favourite people did in fact read and so he often found himself in one. He had looked high and low for any seelie related books, finding only a couple – very thin at that, but maybe for the best– that he swiftly took with him. He had tried to go throught the restricted section, the lock had been childsplay, but the spell used to block entrance to any unauthorized students had brought him back to the library’s entrance one too many times despite his attempts to overcome this new obstacle. 

With a wounded pride, he went back to Ty’s room and skimmed through the books while laying on the bed. Knowing that Ty stayed here always left him feeling warm and fuzzy. He hoped that Ty would not mind that he stayed there, he was being careful, he had even changed the bedwear and taken a bath so that Ty could come back to a clean room. As a thank you for his hospitality. 

All that reading must have been exhausting as he soon found himself asleep, with Irene by his side as a warm comforter. One moment he cold see his asleep body in Ty’s room, while he was looking from above; the next, he seemed to be standing in front of two people talking low enough that he had to really focus in order to hear properly. 

Upon closer inspection, he could see that one of them was Magnus, and he looked troubled, he could only catch the end of what he had been saying: “if this is what we think it is, a lot of people could be in danger. We need to alert the other shadowhunters.” 

The other person had his back to Kit, and he saw them flinch and grab something from his pocket. The Kit from a few years ago would have immediately sprung up to protect Magnus, but something was keeping him on his spot, telling him to wait. 

“We can’t do that, that would set us back days, maybe weeks. We do not have that time to lose. We have to act now!” while taking some pipecleaners from his pocket and playing with them. 

Kit could not avoid gasping out loud. He knew it, he had known from the second he opened his eyes that the person in front of him was Ty, he wanted to reach out, to comfort him. He looked so tense, sounded so worried. But he was rooted to the spot, unable to be seen or move apparently, as the two did not react to his surprise; only observing as if through a looking glass. 

Magnus’ posture was tense as well. “Look, Tiberius, I know you’re a brilliant shadowhunter and Centurion; and I, myself, know I can take an army on my own. But, believe me, we cannot fend this battle on our own, we need help.” He sighed at the silence, seeing Ty’s rapid breathing and his hands forming fists and relaxing in succession. 

“Maybe we can compromise, hm? How about we only tell a few people, people we trust, and all go at this together. How does that sound?” 

Ty visibly relaxed at the plan. Nodding, and turning around, taking a deep breath and looking straight at him. 

Kit felt dizzy –not only because it felt like he had been holding his breath since he saw Ty–, he could see how much the other had grown. He couldn’t help comparing him to the Ty he had left behind all those years ago and see all the similarities, the same hair, a little too long and kissing his cheeks; the same mannerisms and tools that Julian had created so long ago so that the world would feel a little less daunting to Ty. 

He had grown taller, though, in this case, Kit did not mind. He still preferred the baggy hoodies from what he could see, and he felt a stab at his heart from how adorable he could still look despite the obvious rigorous training he knew he must endure as a Centurion.

He could see the same eyes, two still pools of metal that he could spend an eternity getting lost in. Ty still showed his emotions transparently through is face, and right now he could see that he was angry, worried, calculating every possibility in that genius mind he had. 

For a second, Kit worried that Ty could actually see him as he stopped right in front of him. Apparently, Kit must be looking from a wall as Ty brought up his two hands and leaned on it, closed his eyes, and sighed. For a second, Kit thought he was in heaven. Whatever he did to deserve this, he would pay good money to know so that he could live this again. 

Ty, without moving, opened his eyes, still looking at him, and just said with a small smile, “Okay, Kit. Ready or not, here I go” Kit gasped. 

Kit woke up suddenly, startled, feeling his heart in his throat, beating like he had run a marathon. He felt hot, blushing, and confused. He felt like he was missing something important, maybe a dream? 

Huh, he did suck at remembering those.

Chapter Text

While Ty had spent a majority of his life in an institute, being the brother of the secret head of it in fact; he had never actually known the sheer amount of documents that an active head of an institute had to manage. At first, he had been excited for the opportunity to learn new mysteries from the New York Institute, being in Jace’s office. But he quickly came to learn that a vast majority of the paperwork was as mundane as the people they were sworn to protect. 

The most exciting discovery had been a small photo album that Jace had that contained pictures of him and others. Something told him that he shouldn’t have picked it up and inspect it, but Simon and Izzy had given him permission to be there; and, when he opened the drawer, the first picture he saw was one of Jace and Kit.

It must have been taken years ago, Kit looked almost the same as he remembered. Ty had felt his heart beat a little faster, the sound of it drumming in his ear and tuning out all other noise for a second. Maybe Jace could book him an appointment with a doctor, or a Silent brother? He would really rather not bother Julian with this, he was already stressed enough with life as is, and now he had a new found appreciation for all the work he had had to take upon with managing an institute.  

He could not really distinguish anything different from Jace. Then again, he had never really paid much attention to him. Kit, though, he could pinpoint every little difference with precision. He could tell the Kit in the picture was a little taller, maybe an inch or two, and looking a little more muscular, filling out his clothes more than before. He was smiling and rolling his eyes while Jace was pointing at him and sticking his tongue out. 

It was a happy picture, and Ty could not help but feel jealous. That should have been him in the picture. That had been him in the past. Before he messed up everything and caused this divide between them to occur. Ty knew it was illogical, Jace was Kit’s cousin, of course they would hang out, and of course he would smile and train with him. This whole mess between them was not Jace’s fault

He sighed, closing his eyes, and taking a deep breath as he felt his lips wobble slightly. The knot in his throat would not disappear though. It’s interesting how his vocabulary of idioms had been expanding and making more sense now that he was living them in real life. He reasoned that the only way to fix a knot was to pull from an end, which, in this case, he assumes must be the pictures as that is what first started it; so the only way forward would be to see more pictures. 

Most of them were of Jace and Clary, some with the Consul, his parabatai, and his family: Magnus, Rafael and Max. Some featured all of the New York Institute’s members, and, being part of a large family himself, he could almost hear the mess that had surely been going on at the other side of the lens. He slightly shook his head, a little amused at seeing another side from the great war heroes; this was working, he could feel a little bit of the tension dissipating. 

There was something chaotic to the way these group photos were taken though, they had a sense of life that the others did not, like he could feel the air around them, and he knew that these had most likely been taken by Kit. 

He had no way of explaining it, but he could feel Kit’s presence in the pictures, recognized the reactions of those around him. He himself had not forgotten, for how could he? So, now, he couldn’t help but smile and bask in the memory of what it was to be around him. 

People loved to compare Kit to Jace, and he could see the resemblance, they were family after all, both slim, blond and with a proclivity for danger. He had heard Jace be referred to as the Sun, the golden one, especially after that whole situation with the Heavenly Fire. And he could also see where they were getting that from, Jace was strong, bold, courageous, a commanding presence; the center of attention, everyone orbiting around him. 

Kit on the other hand, was more like a pulsar star. Most people didn’t know about them, but Ty had been fascinated by astronomy ever since Mark told him stories of his voyages with the Hunt when he couldn’t sleep after the fight in the Imperishable Fields; how they used to be guided by the stars and swam amongst them, and how he would name each one after his siblings while he was away, to ground himself and make sure to never forget where he came from.

Pulsar stars are fast, nimble, you wouldn’t know they were there unless you were really looking for them. And, in Kit’s case, unless he wanted you to look at him. Pulsar stars are also highly magnetized, their magnetic fields being 10^12 times stronger than Earth’s. The magnetic fields that are produced by them then funnel particles that generate beams of light that humans perceive as a pulsing light effect, hence their name.   

From the second that Kit had been brought to the Los Angeles Institute, Ty had felt the magnetic pull and reacted to it. He had camped outside of his room until he had eventually been given permission to enter Kit’s orbit. 

Pulsar stars are rare, and special, their very existence haunting due to its peculiarity. He thought the same way of Kit, he had never met anyone like him before, so bright, so perfect in his peculiarities that he in turn wanted to be better for him. Be better with him. He felt his face warm up as he saw some pictures of Kit at the beach, he was wearing a bathing suit and was smiling brightly at the camera, his eyes barely open due to the sun. In another picture, Kit was taking a nap on the same couch that Ty was currently sitting at. 

His stomach felt a little funny at that – seriously, what is going on with him? Maybe he should talk about this with someone other than Livvy–. Anyway, since Pulsar stars are also basically dying stars, that’s pretty much where he wanted the metaphor to stop. He was, however, very proud of how good he was getting at metaphors. He couldnt help but think that Kit would feel proud of him as well.

He found himself mimicking Kit’s pose on the couch, leaving the album where he found it. Seeing all those memories made him feel a little more melancholy than he had expected. His heart felt… heavy? Somehow he felt happy that Kit had found another place where he belonged, but the feeling was soured by the fact that he had not been there with him. 

Four years, full of birthdays he did not attend, trainings he was not there to help him with (even if they both knew that he would have been doing anything other than being there with his headphones and pretending not to laugh at him when Kit got annoyed), runes that he should have applied, memories that he may never replace; but that he’s determined to make up for now.  

It had been a hectic few days since he and Magnus left the Scholomance, and while he was physically tired; emotionally, he was running on fumes. He thought he had been coping, not particularly well, but he was surprised at how much he had buried inside of him that was all now coming to the surface, fighting for his attention. 

He was feeling a little overwhelmed to be honest, so he reached out for his headphones, put on his favourite playlist and tried to rest for a bit. 

…

…

…

While trying to tune out the noise, he found himself unable to, too many questions running through his mind, one after the other racing and making him feel breathless, screaming to be heard. What if Kit had forgotten about him? Unlikely, he thought as he reached for his pendant, he never left without it, he used it whenever he thought of Kit or when he needed to feel strong, normal. 

He knew it was important, Livvy had mentioned it previously belonged to Kit’s mom, so he would not have parted with it unless Ty meant something to him. But then, why did he leave? What had he told him on that day that caused him so much pain that he had to be apart from Ty? What had he not heard that caused Kit so much hurt that his only option had been to flee? And what was he running from? If it was from him, he would not have written his name in that corner of his room. 

Maybe Kit was just running from the memories from the ritual as well, too afraid of the consequences. Maybe that’s why he had not talked about him to Jem and Tessa? He could see how that would be hard to explain without going into their dalliances with Nechromancy.

Ty knew that Kit had been yearning for a family, had seen it every pancake sunday, when the family would gather around and enjoy each other’s company. At first, there was mistrust, he looked uncomfortable, like he was not supposed to be there, he had even heard him say “so you all like each other and want to spend time together, on purpose? Jeez, I thought this kind of thing only happened in movies” as a joke when teased by Dru one time. 

But he had seen him when he was trying to blend in, he always did, Kit’s was the first reaction he would always look out for whenever anything happened, fascinated and equally enthralled by it. Kit was not only new, but also a captivating person. He had seen the longing look on his face when Julian would dote on his siblings, how he would try a little harder to sit upright, take up less space, try harder on his trainings, and behave when Julian was around. 

Kit had wanted to have what the Blackthorns had, without seeing that he himself had been considered a Blackthorn from the moment he was thrust into the Institute. Maybe not that exact moment, but he has literal proof that Julian would achieve the impossible for his siblings and Emma. So, when Ty and Livvy took to Kit like a house on fire, all of the Blackthorns followed along and accepted Kit as one of their own. It saddened Ty to think that maybe Kit had not felt this, too used to being an outcast that he could not recognize when people wanted him around. 

Then again, he also could see why being with Jem and Tessa would be good for him. Having grown up as an only child, maybe the Los Angeles Institute had been a little too much at once; Kit deserved a family of his own, one that could give him the love that he had obviously been lacking growing up and let him accept it, at his own pace; without any external pressure. 

He did believe they had been happy back then, and he could not blame Kit for needing a different pace, even if it had been away from him. Even if it hurt, he realized that he trusted Kit to have made the best decision for him at the time. And that’s what mattered most. As much as he wanted to be back in Kit’s life, he would only do so if Kit wanted him there. So, all he could do was hope that he was not too late to get back into orbit.

He thought back to the mural from Mina’s room, hope blooming in his chest. Mina mentioned that Kit had worked on it for weeks, making sure that the mural was perfect, and Jem had alluded to the stories stemming from unsent letters that Kit had not been able to send. In moments like this he really hated his difficulty with “reading between the lines” for he was unsure if it was just deluded hope that made him think the letters were for him, or if Jem just said that and did not mean anything by it. 

If they had indeed been meant for him, why would Kit be afraid to send him the letters? Did Kit think he was upset with him? Even though he cannot fathom being upset with Kit, he guesses this makes sense as their interaction at the ritual had been a little intense, but he had not been upset. 

He had felt betrayed and surprised, then hurt at Kit’s “I wish I’d never known you”. At this, Ty closed his eyes again, the memory never failed to bring tears to his eyes. As hard as he tried to deny it, look for another alternative for he did not have sufficient data, he felt a quiet certainty that the story and the mural were indeed about him. The details, the headphones, the story, it all matches too well with what he remembers. 

But Ty feels scared, was it really about him? Is he just looking for details he himself wishes for? Maybe he is just making it up. He was not a prince after all, (though he did have the same stim toys and headphones as the ones from the mural), and Kit was also not a bard. 

He felt compelled to start reading the story, though it felt a little like an invasion on Kit’s privacy, but he could not help himself. Here, where Kit had once laid on this very couch, spent countless moments with his new friends and family, Ty needed to feel an anchor to Kit, to remind himself that he had been important, or at least find out once and for all if he’s delusional. 

Fantasy had never been his preferred genre, but he quickly found that he could not read fast enough. He could see a picture forming behind his eyes of every adventure, every moment, every interaction from the bard and the prince mirroring something from his and Kit’s past, but from Kit’s perspective. Ty had been Kit’s closest friend, that he knew, and they had had a connection that was only second to his and Livvy’s, but he still found himself surprised with every new nugget of information he glimpsed and learned from reading their story through this new lens. 

Ty and Kit meshed well from the start because of their differences, and so did the prince and the bard. He could not help but remember his own detached way of writing reports or write summaries on the missions he had completed while studying in the Scholomance. Kit’s writing was the complete opposite, he would include every bit of unnecessary detail and Ty could not get enough of it. Kit’s world felt alive and real, every emotion tantalizing, scintillating. This applied to all aspects of the story, but especially the scenes shared between the bard and the prince. 

Kit would spare no detail or adjective to speak of the Prince, always highly, and always with deep reverence, with love. 

This prince felt very regal, distinguished, beloved by everyone. Ty felt a little self-conscious, as he would not consider himself to possess any of those attributes. 

Sure, his family loved him, and he had some friends like Divya and acquaintances like Anush –though he really should try to socialize more, he would like to have someone else to take care of Lulu, his pet chameleon; as he had to move Irene to the greenhouse when he left because Anush was “deathly scared of her”, he rolled his eyes at the memory–.  

The only similarities he could find were physical, like his raven hair and his silver eyes. The bard would break into song out of nowhere everytime they would meet, seemingly enchanted by the prince’s beauty. The prince was kind also, and just and highly logical, he would always think of the best solution to his people’s plights. 

The Prince, however, was locked, ever so high in his tower, only able to escape from time to time to go on these adventures with the bard. Most of the time, the prince could only watch from up top as the bard would sing his praises and promise for the day the two could be together. The bard would sing for the Prince to free him from his boredom, sometimes with happy songs, sometimes calm songs to help him sleep or calm his nerves, and one time, the last time, a love song. 

Wait… What? 

That stopped him on his tracks, all processes coming to a halt. Where had that come from? He was feeling certain that this was indeed their story, so it wouldn’t make sense for that to be the case… right? The rise in his heartbeat told him that he may be in the wake of an answer he was looking for. He skimmed the story again to make sure.

The stories did mirror their adventures, specifically those they went through to find the artifacts for the ritual. Instead of imagining the scenes from the story, he saw flashbacks from back then, and even the conversations followed the ones from his memories. 

The bard was definitely Kit, spontaneous, charming, witty, with a disarming personality that left everyone feeling at ease. No one could tell the bard no, he always got his way with a smart line and a smile. Hard as he tried to read it any different, for him it was obvious that he was positively smitten with the prince, leaving Ty to feel a pang of unease at the thought. 

Is he reading too much into this? Maybe it was Ty that was finding a different meaning to otherwise innocent acts written in a bedtime story? Could it be that he’s reading what he wants to read? 

He hastily closed the book, now with more anxiety and questions than before. He grabbed a pillow from below him and screamed into it in frustration. 

He was supposed to be Kit’s Sherlock, the one who gathered information before making assumptions. He heard a soft knock on the door from behind the pillow and debated ignoring it, but decided against it. 

“Who is it?”, he said. 

“Hey… it’s Alec. Can I come in?” 

If he hadn’t been properly overwhelmed, he would have sat upright when hearing that the Consul was at the other side of the door. Since he was though, he simply sighed and said “... okay”, dejectedly. 

The door creaked open and in came the Consul, and Ty peeked a small glance at him. Ty had seen him command a room of hundredths of Shadowhunters like it was nothing, the Consul was the highest power and Alec Lightwood embodied it through and through. So to see him entering the room, of the institute he had grown up in, very obviously uncomfortable and playing with this feet, was a little funny to Ty. He saw the Consult try to meet his gaze and give him a little smile, laughing a little when Ty covered his face again at being caught. 

He heard him get closer and sit near him. A few seconds went by in silence.

“Hello, Tiberius… Izzy and Simon say that you and Magnus came looking for Jace and Kit. I know they told you that they’re not here, but I just wanted to make sure that everything is okay?” 

Ty sighed, and brought the pillow down to his chest, now hugging it. His eyes opened but remained to the ceiling. Since the institute resembled a church, he could see a mural, angels and demons fighting, very much like his own thoughts, and so he found himself entranced to it. 

After a while, Ty said “Has Magnus told you anything?” 

From the corner of his eye he saw Alec shake his head, “He has not told me anything other than he’s helping out one Tiberius Blackthorn in a very important quest, his words, not mine” and he laughed breathlessly. “I can tell it’s important and he’s trying to respect your privacy. But, I want you to know that, either as Consul, or just a fellow Shadowhunter that has lived through enough to know that you seem to be struggling, I am here to help. You do not need to share anything you’re not ready to, nor do I expect you to do it because of who I am. I just want you to know that you’re not alone in whatever this is.”

Ty could feel his eyes watering and a few tears roll down his face, and he found that he did not have the energy to wipe them down. It would have also been illogical as he could tell he would not be able to make them stop anytime soon. 

Alec saw this and asked “Do you want me to leave?”, and Ty deliberated for a bit, shaking his head. 

Ty had isolated himself for so long, for being different, or feeling guilty after the fallout with Kit. He found that he was tired of it, he needed to feel less alone; and something was telling him that the Consul might be able to understand. 

“I hear people say all the time that I’m smart, always logical, facts first and all, but… Recently, I found that I’ve hurt someone that’s very important to me a long time ago, and I can’t even remember what I did, and it made them leave my side, and…” his voice started to break as a sob came out. 

“I don’t know what to do. I… I feel like I cannot breathe, when I think about him my heart hurts, it feels heavy, I miss him so much that it’s like a part of me was taken out and I can feel it like a phantom limb whenever I turn to look for him in a crowd, to look for his reaction, when I find myself just wanting to be near him... Now I can barely focus, all I can think is that I want him back but I’m afraid it’s too late, that I missed my chance because I was selfish and it hurts.” 

Alec sat there, listened to the young shadowhunter and felt a little emotional. He felt protective of Tiberius, a protectiveness that came from understanding, from having been there. Tiberius reminded him so much of his younger self. He too had struggled so much throughout the years with his identify, trying to balance being a good shadowhunter, the older sibling, the perfect son, and it had all crumbled without notice when Clary Fairchild had come along to change everything. 

At first he had been angry, she had brought upon everything he had been scared about to the surface, but, without her, he would have remained stagnant, living a miserable life of meeting everyone’s expectations, of never truly accepting his truth. Without her, he would have never met Magnus, or had Rafe and Max, so, despite everything, he would not change one thing.  

He and Magnus had talked previously about Ty and Kit, so Alec did indeed know of whom Tiberius was talking about and what the best approach would be. He had read his record before, he took his job seriously and he wanted to ensure that all Shadowhunters were being accommodated to and fulfilled in their respective roles. He knew Ty thrived on facts, mysteries, looking for answers; he had a difficulty extrapolating hidden meanings, so he decided that maybe sharing a similar story might help him make some necessary deductions and self-discovery. 

“Thank you for sharing that, Tiberius. I can see that this is indeed something that is weighing on you. Do you mind if I share a story? Something that perhaps might shed some light on the situation?”. Ty glanced at the Consul, trying to ascertain where this story might be going to, and nodded his head, he was curious and would take clues from wherever he may find them. 

“You might not know this, this was a while ago, way before I became Consul, and I was still in the closet. But, for a while… “ he drew a deep inhale, remembering this was still unsavoury, “Magnus and I actually broke up”. He had been meaning to let a small silence linger, to gather his thoughts, but Tiberius filled it with a gasp as he whipped his head to look directly at his eyes for a second, before slowly drifting to his forehead. 

He felt the tension in the room lift a little and he laughed silently “I know, a lot of people are surprised when they hear it. It was both our faults really, I was in love for the first time, completely head over heals, but I was scared, anxious. Not only was Magnus a man, but a downworlder, immortal; I felt like I couldn’t compete, like I needed to learn and know everything about him.” 

“He, on the other hand, had had many loves, was proud and hurt from before, so he would not open up to me. Even if we loved each other, we couldn’t be in that moment… There was also his ex that set me up to make him believe I was about to turn him immortal – I wasn’t going to, but I thought about it— and… when he found out, he felt betrayed, and rightly so. So he broke up with me…” 

He had been staring at the table while recounting the story, having lost himself in the memory, so he dared a glance  at Tiberius, to see if he was still paying attention. Tiberius was staring straight at him, mouth agape, very obviously surprised. “And then what happened? How did you win him back?” Ty asked.

Alec snorted “Oh, I wouldn’t call it that… Can you keep a secret?” Ty readily nodded. 

“I was a mess, I would leave voice messages every day. I know Izzy, Jace and even Clary did too. I would send texts, went to his apartment, and he never picked up. Jace used to say I was basically a shadowhunter version of a forsaken. I couldn’t eat, sleep, or do anything without thinking about him. And everytime, it was like a pit in my stomach would reopen, my chest would feel numb, I kept looking and yearning for a sign that there was still hope even if time and time again he wouldn’t answer.”

“There were moments when I would feel better, like I was moving on, and then something good would happen and my eyes would instantly look for him to see his reaction, or I would reach for my phone to let him know about it or ask for his support and it would all dawn on me… that he was gone and it was my fault.”

He could hear Tiberius gulp and saw his eyes had tears in them again, not falling yet. “And how did you fix it?”

Alec winced a little, this part might not be as universal as the first: “ It wasn’t until we met in Magnus’ dad’s Demon Realm, he had been kidnapped and couldn’t go back due to Asmodeus’ hold on him. I offered to stay with him in the Demon Realm. I needed him to understand that I would choose him over the world every time. I didn’t do it to get back together with him, I did it because I knew that in every world and timeline, I would never choose anyone other than Magnus, that I chose him despite everything.”

“All turned out well, we did make it back. After that, we were able to truly see each other and realize that our problems were not as insurmountable as we had thought, the love we had for each other made us want to be better, to make us work, and the rest is history.” He finished the story smiling softly, thinking of everything they had accomplished together, a family, a home, and even a revolution. Their love was strong enough that it brought upon a much needed change in the shadowhunter customs, and he could not be more proud. 

Ty’s face was going through many emotions at one, he looked troubled, happy for them, confused, aghast, and a little more confused. He laid in silence and processed the story a little longer, sure that there was something to this story that he needed to figure out. Everything Alec had said about his breakup with Magnus resonated with him. He could reason that a friendship was also a relationship in its own way, so it made sense, but, this felt different. 

He had always thought of Kit as his friend but, he did not have a lot of reference points to compare. So, he began to wonder, could it have been more? He felt the same shortness of breath again, a pang in his chest, maybe this is why he feels like he’s dying? Now that he truly stops and thinks about it, this only happens when he thinks about Kit or he’s mentioned. Could it be, maybe… that it had been something more? 

Ty figured that he might as well ask, he did not have the exact words, nor did he really know what he was asking. For once, he was just going in head first without thinking too much about it “In your experience… how do you know if you like someone as friends or something more? I always thought of… this person… as a friend, but hearing you makes me think that I might have been wrong about that.” He frowned, he did not like not knowing things, and he also felt a little rattled, fearing he might already know the answer. 

Alec blinked twice a little amusedly at Ty’s question and face, he was looking a little pale and shocked, that was a quick deduction, he thought;  giving himself a pat on the back mentally. 

“That, Tiberius, depends on each person. And I have a feeling you already know the answer…” 

Ty was about to ask follow up questions when, suddenly, Magnus showed up through the door unannounced, making a pleased sound when he found the two. He looked around the available seats, and decided to sit on Alec’s lap, while Alec hugged his waist with one hand and laid the other on Magnus’ knee. The two looking content to be in each other’s presence, the world outside their little bubble completely forgotten. 

Ty had never liked physical displays of affection, but something about this one made him feel equally as happy as sad. Thinking of all of those small moments where he had reached out to Kit only to feel him reaching out to him in turn. 

‘Ah. I see.’ Ty thought, this is what Alec meant. 

Magnus spoke out, seemingly remembering why he had entered the room. “Sorry to interrupt, but Ty and I have some business to tend to, and it can’t wait”. Alec blinked, back to Shadowhunter mode,  immediately looking concerned “Is everything okay, can I help?”

Magnus cooed at his husband and said “I’m sorry, love, right now I am afraid the only thing you would do is distract me.” with a wink. To this Alec blushed and buried his face in Magnus’ neck for a second, sighed, and said: “Okay, but please count me in if there’s anything I can help with here, deal?” with a pinky raised. Max and Rafe picked up on this mundane mannerism, and now it was sacred in their household. Magnus scrunched his nose a little as he raised his pinky as well to close the deal and added a peck on the lips, for good measure. He then stood up and Alec started walking to the door, not without saying “Tiberius, that goes for you too, and I wish you luck with everything, truly” while smiling, as he turned around to leave. 

Ty spoke before he reached the door “You can call me Ty, and… thank you.”

Alec Lightwood simply nodded, said “Good bye for now, Ty. And you… make good choices” That last part was a little louder and while pointing and winking at Magnus specifically. He knew he was weak to helping Shadowhunters in need. Raziel, he loved him so much, but felt exasperated in equal measure by him. And, again, he would not change it for the world. 

With that, Alec left, leaving a still very shocked Ty behind. 

Magnus was too preoccupied to notice, quickly going back to the reason he was looking for the young shadowhunter. 

“Right, Tiberius, we need to talk about Kit-” he was interrupted as Ty had a quick reboot at hearing the other’s name. “Did you already know I am in love with him?” 

Magnus’ eyes bulged out and he was left with his mouth agape for a second, turning to the door, as if trying to will Alec back or at least explain where this came from. He had been steadily making progress with Tiberius, with the help of Jem, Tessa, and Mina as well. But ONE conversation with Alec and suddenly Tiberius now knowsss? He really had to give it to him… maybe later. 🤭

He shook his head out of those thoughts, now’s not the time, and turned to Tiberius. His face looked calm, but his eyes were tempestuous. Ty was probably going over every memory the two had previously shared with this new knowledge, the pieces clicking into place, and still unable to make heads or tails from it. 

Magnus sighed. Sitting down for a moment, considering his words. After a moment, he said “Yes, I knew… And before you say anything, the only reason I did not say anything before was because I felt you were not ready to accept this information. While it is not new, it might feel like it is now that you are able to recognize it for what it is… I wanted you to come to terms with it on your own so that you could make the best decision for yourself, for the two of you. I know how much you value your time with Kit, the friendship you two formed, and now that you know of your feelings, you can evaluate how you would like to move forward and transform this bond further.” 

Ty looked conflicted, “But… what if he doesn’t feel the same?”

Magnus was grateful for his hundreds of years of experience in dealing with melodramatic shadowhunter teenagers for he had to fight every cell of his being not to cackle at the comment, keeping a splendid poker face, if he does say so himself. Oh boy, Shadowhunters never failed to amuse him, that never changed despite the century. He internally composed himself, cleared his throat, slightly turning his head to the side in thought, “Relationships are… complicated, each is as unique as the people who are in it. In this case, there is no way of knowing other than to ask.”

Ty shook his head slightly “But what if I ruin everything? What if he’s not willing to talk to me? Even you, Magnus, you would not answer Alec’s voice messages when you two broke up, and you two are like the most in love ever.” 

Magnus laughed out loud and waved his hands “Look, that was different, and THIS is not about me, okay? At this moment, young shadowhunter, you must gather your courage and fight for what you want. So, ask yourself, is Kit what you want?”

Ty wanted to deliberate long and hard on it, knowing this was an important question, but the answer came to him as instinctively as breathing. He clenched his jaw, his hands forming fists. He could not deny that he felt frustrated, how could he have been so blind? It was so obvious, that magnetic pull, that tether he felt towards Kit; the one he had been so confused at no one else for reacting to, had all been love. 

Maybe not at first, at first he had felt protective of him, but, as he got to know him, he had fallen so easily and inevitably that he had not even realized until he was undoubtedly gone. A steady fall so smooth that he never even noticed the slope until he found himself at the very bottom. He wanted to scream, the facts had all been laid out neatly in front of him, yet he’d been unable to see the signs when he himself was the subject of the mystery. 

At the very least, he’s glad that he’s not dying. Seriously, how could he have known that your heart literally skips a beat? That’s just faulty wiring, he blames biology for that one, that makes no sense. 

He snaps back to reality and sees Magnus looking at him like he was waiting for an answer, equally amused and exasperated. 

Oh, right…

“I have always been fond of my customs, I like things to be the same and do not like it when my routine changes. That’s always been true and I was okay with that. Then, Kit came along and brought about chaos, drama, always something different. Still, I could not look or stay away, I wanted to be around him. I yearned to see him experience the world, to see him stumble his way through life and succeed and celebrate with him. To be there for him when he was sad, and to laugh with him when something crazy happened, which it always did. It absolutely drove me crazy… but I was happy.” 

He laughed, and felt his eyes water, a few tears falling, “I have never liked change, and now that he’s gone, everything came back to what it was and I hate it. I hate not knowing what happened in his day, not hearing some crazy story that I am unsure if it really happened or not. I hate going about my day as if part of me is not missing. He’s everything I never knew I needed, for I know not how to go through life pretending like I’ve moved on when I’m still waiting to make it right. Magnus, I need to make it right.”  

Magnus was speechless for a few seconds. Leave it to the shadowhunters to be yearners, he thought. He smiles softly, he wishes he could ruffle Tiberius’ hair, but he doesn’t think it would be appreciated. He’s racking his brain, only for a moment, before remembering why he came into the room in the first place. 

“You, my dear shadowhunter boy, are in luck. Well, not really. But you’re lucky that I like you and have eyes everywhere. The thing is… a small birdie told me that your lover boy is in trouble, and we need to act, fast.” 

Ty was perplexed as he did not know of any warlocks that were that small or bird-like, but he decided to ignore it, as well as the skip his heart made at Kit being called “his lover boy”. 

“What do you mean?” 

“There is trouble brewing at Faerie, apparently some rampant, old and very powerful creature is on the loose. She used to thrive on wreaking havoc on human lives. From what I’ve managed to find on her, she’s from the time when Angels and Demons were still prancing through Earth; rumour has it she may be a spawn from the two. She’s very powerful, little is known about her other than she’s relentless when she finds a target. With that much power and time, her schemes were convoluted and designed to break their souls, they say that she has never directly wounded any of her victims, but she has left no survivors.”

Magnus takes a breath, knowing that these news would have been hard before Tiberius figured out his feelings, but there is no time to spare and he can tell the other is already impatient as is. 

“You have to understand that, when you’re immortal, you become a prisoner of your mind, of your own self. Some are able to find somewhere to belong quickly; some do not have such luck, so they turn bitter and look for any way to entertain themselves. Humans are easy enough, and she had been happy destroying their simple lives, for, to her, they were but a blip of time, a mere distraction. With time though, she found a family that made her find a new meaning and she was happy to leave that behind and disappeared for a few years until now…” He chanced a glance at Tiberius, and he was grabbing at his stim toys so hard his knuckles were nearly white, his legs bouncing and his eyes dancing around Magnus’ face. 

“Magnus, please! Let it out already!” Tiberius said as he grabbed a fistful of hair and stood up, turning around, manic energy flowing through his body as he had a bad feeling as to where this was going. 

Magnus sighed and continued “The family that she had found peace with is gone, and she has sworn vengeance on the person responsible. She has been looking long and hard, for their disappearance was as much a mystery as the reason for it, this person was only a legend not so long ago. But it seems that she has found him or is close to, and she will stop at nothing to make sure that he pays for what she’s lost…”

Ty felt like screaming, turning around, he looks at Magnus “Magnus… who did she lose?!” 

Magnus closed his eyes, dropping his head slightly as he could not delay it any longer “Her family was the Riders of Mannan, Ty.”

Ty felt a shiver run through him as a gasp was ripped out of his throat. His mind was running a mile a minute and stuck all at once. He now remembered that day like it was yesterday, Kit had made the Riders disappear and the battle had been won. No one but him, Magnus’ close friends and Kit knew of what had really transpired that day. He had been so focused on Kit being safe that he had not paid any heed or mind to anything else. 

He felt a jolt of electricity as everything started to click into place, pieces of conversation now making sense. Pieces from that day that he had not processed until now that he knew Kit was in trouble. “This is what Tessa meant when you were talking about Kit’s powers right? I knew there was more about it than you were letting on. I remember that day, the Riders said that they had killed Kit’s mom, that he was part faerie and a descendant of the First Heir. I had been so busy thinking about Kit being gone that I did not think for a second about everything else.” Ty was now clutching at his hair with both hands, breathing hard and looking rattled. 

Magnus reached out to him, not fully, but enough to distract Ty from hurting himself. He also got closer as he did not want anyone to overhear their conversation. He spoke in a low but grave voice 

“Tiberius, I understand you are feeling a lot right now, but right now we need to be very careful. Kit needs us right now. If Giltine has truly figured out what happened that day, if she’s found out Kit’s identity, that would mean that there are now more enemies looking for the Last Heir and he may not be able to fight them off this time. The Riders did not know what Kit was capable of then, but Giltine does, and she’s more powerful than ever now that she’s got nothing to lose and will stop at nothing to achieve her revenge. We need to find him before Giltine or the fate of the world might be at stake if the prophecy is not fulfilled… if this is what we think it is, a lot of people could be in danger. We need to alert the other shadowhunters.” 

Ty grabbed another one of his pipeclearners from his pocket, frustratedly hissing out: “We can’t do that, that would set us back days, maybe weeks. We do not have that time to lose. We have to act now!” 

Magnus’ posture was tense as well. “Look, Tiberius, I know you’re a brilliant shadowhunter and Centurion; and I, myself, know I can take an army on my own. But, believe me, we cannot fend this battle on our own, we need help.” He sighed at the silence, seeing Ty’s rapid breathing and his hands forming fists and relaxing in succession. 

“Maybe we can compromise, hm? How about we only tell a few people, people we trust, and all go at this together. How does that sound?” 

Ty visibly relaxed at the plan. He was going over a list of capable and trusted shadowhunters to carry out this mission. He turned abruptly, feeling a little overwhelmed. He could almost feel Kit’s presence in the room, he reached the wall in front of him, needing to ground himself. He released a few breaths and sighed, he knew what he had to do, and he knew that there was no room to fail. He had a rough list of priorities:

1. Find Kit.
2. Save Kit.
3. Tell him how he felt, maybe? 
4. Die of embarrassment regardless of the outcome. Really, how could it have taken him so long to figure that out? Livvy would never let him hear the end of it. 
5. He had no point of reference on either outcome, and he decided that, since that depended solely on Kit, he would not worry about that right now. They would get there when they get there.

He leaned on the wall, raising his hands to hold himself with his fingertips and sighed once more. Despite everything, his head felt clear. He was scared out of his mind, but he would not let Kit fight this alone. After all, the prince and the bard were a package deal in the story are they not? He was amused by this thought and smiled softly.

“Okay, Kit. Ready or not, here I go” 

This time the prince would be doing the rescuing, Mina would be thrilled.

Chapter Text

She had once been a girl, long ago, before humans roamed the earth. At the time, only Angels and Demons lurked around every corner; their eternal fight and dance had not many expectators but her. 

She remembered watching the angels in all their glory, fighting without breaking a sweat, high up in the clouds, looking down –literally and metaphorically– to any creature that stood in its way. 

The demons on the other hand, came from the underground, from the very bottom of the world. They did not possess the natural advantage of flight or sight as they were used to fighting in the dark amongst themselves to raise or maintain their ranks in the hierarchy. 

Demons tended to only bring their fights to the surface from time to time, and she would watch from the tops of the trees as they brought upon destruction, and she would watch how the angels would come down to settle any quarry that threatened peace on earth, undeterred. The fights would sometimes last mere blinks, and sometimes many suns, and as brutal as they were, they were also beautiful. 

The Angels were strategic, every movement calculated, perfect form, not one moment wasted. The Demons though, were clever, they had to be, and they used their wits to their advantage, proving worthy contenders to the Angels. 

Angels and demons did not see eye to eye very often, but it was not unheard of. She had heard rumours from angels and demons alike that the seelies were born out of the union of the two. Legend has it that so was her, though she was somehow too alike and yet not enough to be granted entry into faerie. 

She had been left in the outskirts of a seelie forest as a baby, and both Angels and Demons had made sure that she stayed alive, but from a distance. Legend goes that the forest she had been left at was enchanted, brought to life and sentience to ensure that the baby would have every need met. Whenever she hungered, the forest would provide produce, when she thirsted, a stream of water would appear before her; when she was scared, the creatures of the forest would sing her a lullaby. Even as she learned to walk, it aided by the forest as well. She remembered as it would make way for her and would soften her falls when they inevitably happened; healing herbs always nearby for her to tend to them herself, its invisible guiding hand keeping her company with each step and decision she took. 

Once she had grown old enough to walk unassisted, she started wandering through the forest. She felt a special connection to it; it had raised her, protected her, and she could feel it watching her every step, contemplative, curious, warm. 

Her very first words were directed at the forest as well, having heard the soft whispers it would repeat over and over at her. That is how she had also learned her name: “Giltiné”. Learning to speak had been easy, the forest was gentle and very patient with her. Once she had felt ready, she returned the favour by crafting stories to it, she liked to think of it as returning the favour for every lullaby it had sung for her, and still did. 

She would fabricate tales using the creatures from the forest, giving them names and backstories. She remembered how the forest would listen, growing silent at these times, only the soft and steady sound of water nearby accompanying her voice. Sometimes the forest would create a tune by manipulating the wind, water, animal sounds and more, and Giltiné would be moved into song. 

As much as the forest knew her, she knew it. She could feel when it was playful and she would run as the wind swept her hair around. It had taught her everything she knew, and she had been a very good student. At that time, she had been innocent, too innocent, too naive. 

She had been happy, cared for; she had known peace.

She had known nothing. 

When the first humans were cast out from the garden of Eden, they had been scared, lost. And she had walked among them, for they looked like her.  What had once been a life full of peace, now was a whirlwind of new things to learn. She had taught them all she knew, welcomed them.

They in turn had clothed her, listened and absorbed everything she taught as the moss that would appear near the river. They had learned about what plants they could eat and which to avoid, she had introduced them to the forest, and how to look for fresh water. They proved to be great students, as she had been to the forest, until they taught her one thing she had never known: death.  

She had only learned of it after one of Adam’s offsprings brought upon the other’s demise. She had been shocked, for she had roamed earth for centuries at that time and this had never happened. It was unheard of, for angels and demons may bleed, but she had never seen one die. 

Humans grew weary after this discovery, and they became fascinating upon learning of their mortality. Not one moment was wasted and they made quick advancements in what they came to call medicine, agriculture, and literature. 

She had been absolutely absorbed in their affairs that her time in the forest was mostly used for sleeping. What she had once called home was now only a place to rest. She could feel it be upset, start building walls around itself, protecting itself, and, what she learned too late, trying to protect her. 

She could feel its growing resistance to her leaving, and she would laugh, thinking that the forest was just lonely, not used to her being away for such long periods of time. So she promised to try to spend her time more evenly between man and nature. 

But humans were clever, they lured her in more and more with their new discoveries, and convinced her to stay for a few moons with them, and she had agreed; for they looked like her and she like them, they were also family. The seelies had cast her aside, left her to fend for herself, so she wanted to spare the humans the same fate. 

She was eternally grateful to the forest, and she would always return to it, but she could not deny the pull she felt towards humans. The few centuries-old Giltiné had outgrown the forest and was now thirsty for the knowledge only humans could provide. 

Many moons passed, humans rapidly multiplied, and she had become too absorbed in them to think of returning home. The demons had taken a liking to human flesh, she could see how their eyes clouded with pleasure at the fear they instilled upon the mortal souls. The angels would come down to stop their battles, sometimes too late. One of such times, she discovered one of her powers: she could shape shift, so she would lure humans away from danger to give the angels enough time to make sure no harm came to them. 

This had worked for a while, but humans were stubborn, some as confident as the angels to believe they could fight back, and so she had learned she could also manipulate their minds, it was easy for a centuries old being. Humans were delicate, they needed to be cared for as she had once been, so she would make them see what they wanted to see, it did not matter if they thought they stood chance against demons, nothing  would come of it. 

But it had. 

For this very thought had given them the fortitude and arrogance to call upon the angels and ask for a fraction of their powers so that they could use and forge their tools. She had inadvertently given them the courage to fight back. And they had succeeded. 

Once the Shadowhunters were created, she felt useless, for everything she had once been needed for was now fulfilled by them. For they could actually fight back against the demons, unlike her who only lured the humans away to give the angels time to come and fight them away. 

So, heartbroken and lonely, she went back home. Expecting to find solace and mend her wounded pride. She thought it was only to be expected, humans had outgrown her, they no longer needed her as they once had, and she found herself content with that. She had given them a fighting chance and now they had one, no longer did she need to worry herself with the affairs of men. 

Humans were simple creatures, they were pack animals, they stuck to their own. And, as much alike as she was, she was not like them, not truly, and they knew. And so had she, as much as she enjoyed her time, she had heard the forest chant her name through the distance, calling her back, and she had not, could not at the time she told herself, for they needed her. 

What a fool she had been. 

She was a few hundred paces away from home, it was still not visible from where she was, but she felt something different. What had once been warm, now felt cold, angry. She could hear wails in the wind, chilling the sweat down her spine from her travels. She felt guilty as she had left the forest for many years, so this was not unexpected. 

It was only until she got closer that she truly understood. 

What had once been home was now a memory. Most trees were cut down, the water no longer flowing but stagnant as a dam had been built with its wood. What had once been her home now housed many people, houses small and large everywhere she looked. 

She started taking harsh breaths, her eyes welling and a knot forming in her throat. The town's people started to notice her, some worried, some uncomfortable. She remembered when the humans had first come, and she remembered how the forest had not liked them. 

She now realized that she should have listened. 

She should have stayed. 

She ran towards the center of the forest, hoping to find the tree that had nursed her to sleep at night, and she found it. It had been damaged, but it was still there and she would tend it to health as it had her in the past. 

She wept on its roots and begged for forgiveness. She could feel how hurt it had been, by the humans but mostly her, for her abandonment. She swore that no more harm would come to it, and she had kept her word. 

Humans had come and gone, trying to take more land, but she was no longer swayed by them. 

She had already given too much, and they had taken it. For humans were created in the likeness of the ruler of angels, or so she had heard; and, as beautiful as they can be, they’re also naive, and they thought they were at the pinnacle, like no other creature could surpass them. 

She had seen that humans only brought upon destruction, even to their own detriment. They polluted and destroyed the land, and brought war upon their kin for material gains. What had once fascinated her, now only caused her repulsion, and she was sickened by the thought that she had been instrumental in their evolution. Her heart wept, and the forest with her. 

She heard the town’s whispers, they claimed the forest was haunted by death itself. It had amused her at first, until an idea struck her. As smart as humans could be, they were also incredibly aware of their mortality. It was the driving force to most of their creations: medicine to treat wounds or infections; houses to protect them from the elements; prose to keep themselves occupied and make the most out of the time they had left on earth and pass knowledge before they too ceased to exist. They yearned to create a legacy for themselves, but their lives were too short, so most died unfulfilled or turned to self-medicating themselves or bring their demise upon themselves. 

She, however, was immortal, and her legacy so far only consisted of lending a hand to humans and turning her back on the one home she had ever had. But now it could change, she would change. She learned to use her powers against them. What she had once used to protect them, now served her to lure them in and fulfill the stories they had created themselves. 

If they wanted her to be death herself, she would be. 

She cast a spell on the forest, now it was her turn to protect it as it had her before. But she put her own twist to it, if a human dared enter the forest, they could, but would not leave unscathed. She made it so that every harm that a human brought to the forest, they would have it reflected a hundredfold in return on themselves. As much as she may despise humans, it would only be fun if harm came upon those who deserved it. 

She thrived watching the forest returning to its old glory, nature taking over what humans had destroyed. But she also grew bored. 

The town quickly left, their survival instincts too strong to overpower their curiosity. They were done with being afraid; Giltiné, however, was not done with them. 

She had already lived too long, seen too much. A few deaths every few moons did not entertain her as it once had. So she decided to look for her targets now. 

At first, she picked the worst of the worst, she would start easy: a murmur here, a strike of bad luck there. Once they were but a husk, she struck, breaking them from the inside until they snapped. She started brokering deals with them; it was easy, she was not unlike seelies in that regard after all. She loved to give them exactly what they wanted, and then break them with it as they had her. 

After a few years, she had made herself known as an omen of death, and the tree that housed her, a Blackthorn, the name given to it by humans, became associated with death itself as well. All the better she thought, for humans are too afraid of death to actively look for it. This too helped keep her home protected. 

As time moved on, she saw the destruction that even the best of the humans brought upon the land. She understood then that no matter their intentions, destruction was part of what humanity brought upon with it. That day, she decided that none of them were worthy of her mercy. If they themselves could not understand that they were bringing about their own demise by harming the very earth they inhabited, why should she restrain herself from a little fun? She reasoned that it was only fair and that the less humans there were roaming about, the better chances nature would have to heal as her forest had. 

For, even as it had healed, the scars remained and she felt them as her own. A constant reminder of how she had failed; If humans would not fight for the land they occupied, she would. 

And so Giltiné’s dance with humans had begun. Centuries passed and she grew more and more powerful. As her powers grew, her thirst for vengeance did as well and way faster, for even the fear of Death could not stop harm from coming everywhere they went. 

Giltiné’s weeps became part of the local folklore, when men heard her cries during winter, they took it as a sign to avoid cutting the trees. She would use her shapeshifting abilities to turn into owls, to watch humans from above as she had seen angels do so long ago. 

She, who had not fit anywhere, someone who had seen so much destruction and death, who death seemed to follow but not touch, came upon a realization. She was it. She was death. 

She could now understand why the Seelies had denounced and refused to let her in Faerie as she was born. As she, they too were immortal, but only because they had made sure that she would remain out of their realm, so death could not touch them. 

All those pieces that had at first seemed unrelated now fit and made a clear picture, she was only following the path written for her. She reasoned, if her path had already been written for her, the only thing she could do was ensure that her legacy would be one worth reading about. 

For millennia, she honed her craft and became the main subject of many stories, many names were given to her. No matter how hard humans fought to beat her, she would always reach them; she was an inevitability. Even the Nephilim themselves, descendants of those who received blood from the angels were not immune to her, she did not even need to involve herself with them for they perished without even necessitating her intervention. So they did not allure her for what's the fun in playing with someone that's actively walking towards their own grave?.

Humans, however, she could not get enough, for fear of her was ingrained in their very essence. And their fear made her all the more powerful. As her powers grew, the more complex her plans became. One of her most useful powers being learning of a person’s story by touching an article they had touched or possessed. She only needed a name and she could find a layout of their most sacred moments in her brain as if the memories were her own. She used this to exploit her victims, to ensure that their punishments would be as effective as possible, each tailored especially for the target’s worst fear. As much as she enjoyed the lead-up, she did not like to get her hands dirty, so she needed to be precise in her methods after all.

She had long lost hope of ever finding company, and she did not need it. The forest was all she had ever known not to bring harm to her... Until they came along. 

They had entered the forest silently, but she had felt the forest still, almost holding its breath, so she watched them from afar. 

They had set their tents delicately, not using any force or harming their surroundings. She could almost feel the sigh of relief and she had been unsure if it came from herself or the forest. 

She climbed the trees and listened to their conversation, they were looking for someone, someone too powerful, someone that was unlike any other. She felt goosebumps rising on her skin. 

As much as the thought caused her heart to beat louder, she kept listening. This group was interesting, they were clearly Seelies but they did not look like them. They were too big, too rowdy, too inelegant. 

They felt too much like her. 

She was tempted to come down, to reach out to them. But she had gone down this path before, with humans, and she would not make the same mistake twice. 

So she observed them, and felt the Forest and how it felt about them. Trusting its judgement much more than her own now that she knew better. 

The forest felt quiet, with a hum of excitement. And she felt it too. She decided to come down, and knew she was making the right call as she did not feel any trepidation from the forest, only a charged stillness as if it was also holding its breath with her. 

She walked slowly towards the group, her footsteps intentionally crunching under her weight to alert the group of her incoming presence as she felt that a surprise appearance would not lead to positive results. When she reached her destination, she felt every pair of eyes turn to her. Inspecting, assessing her threat level, she felt like she could read on their faces that they were deciding on whether to attack or not.

She offered them a smile as she leaned on a tree. Resting her head on the bark. 

“Can I join the party?” as she nodded to the small feast they had for themselves. 

The group blinked before one of them laughed heartily. “You are a brave one, I’ll admit. We thought you would just stay creeping up there and steal our food while we slept.” 

Now it was Giltiné’s turn to blink, raising one of her eyebrows: “How can I steal anything in my own home?” 

The group once again turned silent, seemingly surprised “We thought no one lived here, we were told only death herself would venture here” 

Her smile turned into a smirk “Death herself, nice to meet you”

The look of pure confusion and awe left her cackling, and the forest came alive with it. She felt whole again, the forest feeling lighter than it had in a long time. 

The Riders and she had developed a connection that healed her. They were like her, had lived as long as her, and did not fear death, they even claimed to work for it, which was the subject of many of their jokes, both against her and instigated by her. 

She no longer felt the need to play with humans, she did offer advice to the Riders on how to dispatch their targets, so that they would come back to her as quickly as possible. 

That’s how they worked for a few years, and both she and the forest thrived. Long were the days that had made her feel miserable. And the forest had grown bigger now that not only death herself was known to inhabit the lands but also the Riders of Mannan. 

Everything was perfect, until they didn’t come back. 

She looked for them and found that they had fallen in battle against the Nephilim. She felt numb, torn open. Hurt unlike any she had ever felt before and heard the forest scream in agony alongside her. 

Had she not walked among humans, this would have never happened. Had she only eliminated the Nephilim when she had a chance, this would not have happened. Their demise is as much on her shoulders as it is on the Nephilim. She would avenge them. She fortified the spell to protect the forest and promised to come back once she had avenged their fallen kin. The forest now felt sad, lost, furious. Much like she was. 

The riders had given them both the jumpstart they needed to start a new life. Now that that was gone, she would go back to her roots and make sure that she finished what she started. 

This time, humans would not be the target. She knew that the riders had been on the hunt for a bigger threat, the First Heir’s descendant, she had made fun of them for it, as she believed it a myth. Now, she was not so sure. She knew that only something very powerful could bring death upon the riders, they themselves having lived millennia like herself and survived mighty battles in the past. 

She spent years looking for clues, following every trail to a dead end, one such time she even found herself on a farm, and she could only feel her resolve strengthening, her anger growing. 

Someone was protecting this person, making her job harder. As much as this frustrated her, it also thrilled her; for this meant that this person was loved dearly, and she would see to it that they too would suffer as she had. 

She had gone through different institutes, not trying to bring attention to herself, but trying to gauge who could have Faerie blood, someone powerful enough to bring the Riders to their untimely demise. Someone with enough connections to pass by her radar undetected. 

Her research led her to the Scholomance, and she laughed as the found a copy of one of her old books in the library. She had had to fortify the spell on the forbidden section of the library as she could feel that someone was trying to enter repeatedly in vain, now going back to the main library entrance, buying her a little more time... Her presence shall remain a secret for now as she gathered her intel. 

This however, led to an important discovery, she felt fae energy traces from the book as well as very powerful magic along with it. This had to be it. Her heart was racing. She looked through the records of the book and laughed in disbelief, the last entry was none other than a Blackthorn, like the tree that had raised and consoled her throughout her life was also the one that may have taken everything from her. 

Apparently, even death could not truly escape from itself, and the irony was not lost on her. 

Oh well, looks like the battle has just begun. Now that she had a name, she corroborated that his family is indeed associated with faeries. This has to be it. She’s finally found what she’s looking for in one Tiberius Blackthorn.

She pauses for a second, unsure… Should she start with the family or the boy she sees in his dreams? Which will hurt him more? she wonders. 

Hmmm… choices.

Chapter Text

Kit woke up startled, eyes remaining closed but his breath uneven, his heart going what felt like a hundred miles an hour, scared, confused, and he could feel his cheeks burn as if he were blushing. He felt embarrassed, he was a Shadowhunter, for crying out loud. He should not be feeling so rattled from a dream that he couldn’t even remember. He tried to get up and found he couldn’t.

He froze up and tried to even his breathing slightly, trying to assess any threats that might be close while giving himself a little more time to properly wake up, as well as try to figure out his plan of attack. All of the drills and training coming to the top of his mind, he was trying to list all of the possibilities based on the information he could gather from his surroundings: 

Wherever he was was silent, not eerily so, so he may still be in the Scholomance. However hard he tried to, he could not feel any danger close by, so he could not understand why he was having such a hard time breathing, feeling like a fifty pound weight was crushing him, fueling his anxiety and threatening to consume him. 

He has been so careful, all of them have been, so he does not understand why this is happening now, when the answers are closer than ever. He feels like he’s missing something, forgetting something important, a looming sense of impotence at failing to remember something vital. It almost feels like he’s late for a date he does not even know he’s been invited to. 

His thought process is a mess, and he’s trying to piece it back together until he feels wet sandpaper going up his face. He quickly shakes his head, laughing a little and opening his eyes. 

Oh, right, it’s her. He giggles as he sees the lynx lying on his chest, watching him sleep. Almost guarding him. He lifts the hand that’s not being squished by the 50-something-pound animal to pet her behind her ears. Immediately, he hears purring and he smiles softly, closing his eyes. 

It still feels surreal to be here, in Ty’s room, surrounded by Ty’s most prized and guarded possessions, feeling closer to him in a way, but also miles apart. For, if he’s here, and Ty’s not, where the hell is he going to find him? He does not have the time nor luxury to parade around the world looking for him, he promised Tessa and Jem that he would be careful. He may act very nonchalant, but he would not be the reason his family was found out. He felt enough guilt that they put this much danger onto themselves by taking him in, feeling undeserving of it, of their love.

He could feel a similar pinch in his chest from when he’s starting to get a panic attack, but none of the other symptoms. He looks down and sees that Irene is looking very non-enthusedly at him and softly pushing her claws against his chest, pushing her snout under his chin and rubbing her cheek against him. 

He felt the familiar burn of tears welling in his eyes as he chuckled and ran his hands down the lynx’s back, petting her softly. He felt her settle more against him before he felt another presence in the room followed by a “Oh wow, you’re settling into being a step-mom really well, Herondale. Can I stay or am I interrupting?” 

He rolled his eyes while redirecting his eyes towards the noise and snorting softly before saying “Livvy, there may be no room for secrets between you and Ty, but do I not get a little privacy? What if I was naked?” in a very sarcastic tone and battling his eyelashes and faking modesty. 

Now it was Livvy’s turn to roll her eyes, her figure settling on top of Ty’s desk across the room, floating on top as if she were sitting on it. Sometimes, if he tried really hard to, he could almost forget that she was not actually there, that he couldn’t just reach out and push her away as they used to do way back when. 

“We both know you would feel too ashamed to walk around naked in Ty’s room. I’m almost a little surprised that you’re actually sleeping on top of his bed as it is, I was 50-50 on whether or not you would actually sleep on the floor as a matter of fact”. She said that with an amused tone and grin, crossing her arms and leaning her head to the side, her smile reaching her eyes in a very warm way that made Kit feel a little too transparent and vulnerable. 

That feeling had been recurring more and more often lately and Kit, not knowing what to say, buried his face on Irene’s fur, continued petting her, and grunting said “Leave me alone, Livvy”. 

Livvy chuckled, and he could hear her voice coming closer, her tone now serious. “I’m just really glad that you’re here… I know this cannot be easy for you, being here, surrounded by all of Ty’s belongings, and him not being here”

Kit sighed brokenly, hugging irene closer. “I’ve been here only a few hours and it’s the weirdest thing to walk around and think of how many times he has walked that same path, to hear everyone rave about how smart he is, to see how far he’s come and how good of a Centurion he’s becoming from everyone but him. And, I’m so proud, but..” he takes a few breaths as his voice starts breaking. 

“It’s like I’m following after him all over again, like it was when we were gathering the ingredients for the ritual, one step behind always, but close enough to reach out to him, to hear him and be there for him. I know he needed me then, so I cannot truly regret it, but I also cannot help wanting to have heard all of this new stuff from him, to have been here to witness it, and I wasn’t and it kills me. It kills me to think that he may have forgotten me, or that I’m now only a memory that’s left in the past. What was once a step now feels like so far away that I can no longer grab or scream out to reach him. And the worst part is that I know that I have no one to blame but me.“

He could feel that a few tears had run down his face, and he would have started crying had he not heard Livvy’s exasperated whispered “I swear I have to do everything around here” while floating over to Ty’s nightstand. “Can you please open this drawer, there is a book there that I think you should check, and no, it’s not a diary, so please don’t even try to look for one”

He arched his eyebrow and moved his hand from Irene’s fur to reach the nightstand, trying not to move too much to upset her. He actually likes being loved by Ty’s pet, so sue him for wanting to keep it that way. 

It took a little bit of work and guessing with “is it this one?” to Livvy’s “no, to the left, no your other left. BY THE ANGEL Kit, I swear to Raziel that you suck at following directions” to which Kit only answered “guilty”. 

He did move a little more than he intended as he was searching and Irene just growled softly, he tensed, not wanting her to flee away from him, even if he was low-key concerned about the hand he had not been able to feel since he woke up. “Don’t worry about Irene. Once she’s comfortable, no power will get her to move unless you physically force her to, or if Ty’s around, so you’re good, Lover boy.” Livvy said, amused. 

Once he finally got it, he brought it up and frowned, confused. It was a sketch book, he looked around the cover and couldn’t help the little somersault his heart made when he read Ty’s name, in Ty’s handwriting. “Raziel, you’re EMBARRASSING, Herondale” he thought to himself, he would have rolled his eyes if he were alone, which reminded him he wasn’t; so he turned his eyes to Livvy, an eyebrow raised in question.

Livvy is apparently not feeling like elaborating much, still looking thoroughly exasperated with him. She did roll her eyes at him, and he felt a little self-conscious, almost as if she could listen to his thoughts. “Open it, ughhhh. I can’t with you looking like I kicked your boyfriend –which I can’t since I’m a ghost but I so would if I weren’t– when I’m actually helping you!”

“Okay, okay, jeez!” he says as he looks at the cover again, taking a deep breath. He’s not totally sure if this may be a test so he chances another glance at Livvy who’s looking more and more exasperated, doing a “move it along” sign with her whole body. So Kit opened the sketch book. 

The first few pages were dated a few years ago, they contained sketches of baby Irene, she was adorable and Kit was unsure if the warm feeling in his chest was from how cute she was (and still is, Raziel, he’s being slow cooked under her, but he’ll be damned if he moves her, so roast Kit it’ll be), or if it was from knowing that Ty had drawn it. 

The sketches were very detailed, but he could see the eraser marks and the small tears in the pages where mistakes had been made, where the pencil looked fainter and the strokes not as sure. He kept going and saw how, little by little, those started becoming less and less frequent. His sketches more professional, he was so enraptured in this new talent he had not known of, dissecting every minute detail, picturing Ty in this very room watching Irene and sketching her over time, gaining confidence in his skill and perfecting his craft until it was basically a black and white picture of the original. 

He was so absorbed in this that he felt a sucker punch to his lungs when he found pages upon pages of sketches of him. He looked at the dates, sure that they may have been from when he had been at the LA Institute, but he was wrong, these dated back to a time when they had already been apart for a few years. 

Kit racked his brain and kept going back to those days, maybe it was a sketch from a picture? But that couldn’t be, they were too busy running around during those days to take pictures, and Ty would never take his phone out unless there was an interesting animal he wanted to take a picture of or he needed to get an Uber for those times Julian wasn’t supposed to know that they were out. 

Sketch after sketch showed Kit from four years ago, from moments the two had gone through together, and only him, from Ty’s point of view. He noticed that most of them were of him laughing, a few serious ones. He was in awe at the level of detail Ty had been able to bring to life even after all those years. While he wished he could be transported back to those times, remember exactly where each were from, he was still moved by knowing that the one witness to each of these moments had been Ty; that these memories were branded in his brain as Ty was in his. 

He caressed the pages softly, noting that each of these sketches had been very intentionally made. Unlike the first ones, these were sure strokes, no mistakes allowed, and they were drawn with pens instead of pencils. They felt so alive that it felt like Ty had been fully immersed in the memory when sketching them, bringing them to life. The memory of him.  

He felt a knot growing steadily in his throat, until it escaped in way of a sob, raising his hands to wipe his tears to avoid any from landing on the pages. All this time he kept telling himself that Ty would barely remember him, despite Livvy, Jace, Clary, Magnus literally telling him otherwise. It had felt too much like wishful thinking, too much like hope, and he had not dared at the time to entertain it. It had felt impossible.

Turns out, he had been wrong again. 

For these showed that he had been thought upon, remembered, missed. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths. Irene broke his spiralling with her purring, probably sensing his distress. He smiled softly and rubbed his cheek on her now, thanking her in his head; happy that Ty had had her company when he wasn’t around. 

He opened his eyes and stared at Livvy. Unsure of what to say, he opened and closed his mouth a couple times, and spouted the question ringing in his head “does he ever talk about me?”

Livvy sighs, sitting cross-legged on the floor, “Not really, to be honest. I know he thinks about you a lot, not only from this” she said, gesturing at the sketch book, before continuing “but he gets this look… like he’s somewhere far away. I think it’s a bittersweet place because even though he goes there a lot when things get rough or he’s happy. He always has this sad look in his eyes, like something is missing. And I think that something is you.” 

Kit snaps at that “don’t say that”, startling them both. 

“When I left, I did it because I could not face Ty after everything that happened. He said that there was nothing without you here. I did everything I could to make him feel better, but I am not you. I- I bring danger to everything that gets close to me. My mom, my dad, you.”

“Kit, you cannot blame yourself for me” Livvy said strongly, shaking her head. 

“But I do, maybe if I had not been here things would have been different. I just know that when I left I did it out of fear. And now I’m back, and I am still so afraid, but this time of hurting him, of him not wanting me back in his life, of what he’ll say to me if we see each other. He was everything and now I just have this empty space where my heart used to be, his name echoing in each chamber and feeding off each scream until now all I hear in my head is me calling out to him. Just like last time, at the ritual, and I still do not get an answer back” By this time his voice is breaking slightly and has gone lower. 

Livvy was looking at him very earnestly now. Her hand floating above his, she looked to be weighing her words to make sure they landed clearly. “Kit… Ty did not hear your confession. I know, before you say anything, I know it’s hard to believe with him seeming to remember everything, but from what I’ve talked to him he does not remember anything from that day while performing the ritual, he only remembers that it failed, that you told him that you wish you’d never met him, but nothing in between.”

Kit’s stammering, his heart racing a thousand miles a minute now. His thoughts racing as well. 

“So… I left for nothing? He does not know?” He feels the tears running down his cheeks and does not stop them this time. 

“No, Kit, I’m so sorry, he still does not know. But do not say you left for nothing, you’ve found a family that loves you. You became closer with Jace, and Clary, and the New York Institute, you found yourself!”

Kit shakes his head, upset “But I left him alone, after he lost you, I could have been here!”

Now it was Livvy’s turn to shake her head, this time in sympathy “No, Kit. I think it was the right choice, had you stayed I do not think Ty would have been able to let go of everything, he would have stayed stuck in the past instead of going forward. You leaving gave him something to look forward to. Even me dying might have been something he needed to grow and learn to be himself, not part of a whole, but whole in himself. Don’t get me wrong, dying sucked, but I at least get comfort in seeing everything he’s achieved for himself and himself only, not because he was trying to make me or you or anyone proud, not even Julian, which is impressive in its own right. We gave him wings, and now he’s flying, Kit.” 

Kit swallows, nodding softly, tears still running down but slower now, Irene licks one cheek and rubs her face to his. He chuckles, “I did call him an angel a few hours ago”. 

Livvy cackles and throws herself back, holding her belly “BY THE ANGEL, Anush’s face tore me to pieces. Raziel, Herondale, you do know how to mark your territory successfully. And in front of Mark and Jace, too?” and she laughs even harder then, even wiping some tears now. 

Kit just buries his face under Irene’s fur again. “LEAVE ME ALONEEE, but I do have to say that I ate with that”

Finally Livvy stopped laughing, gathering her breath. “Oh wow, I needed that. So, pity party over, when are you going to confess again?” 

If Kit had been drinking something he would have spat it at that. His eyes bulged out as he said “I will NOT confess again anytime soon, Livia. Last time that went terrible. Besides, it’s been forever since I last saw the guy! And, there’s a prize on my head, I don’t have time to think about that!” 

Livvy goes instantly back to being exasperated with him “Which is exactly why you have to pounce NOW, who knows what will happen, won’t you regret not telling him how you feel if something happens? Besides, the first time it did not go terrible, it did not even land, so you cannot say that without at least trying.”

Before Kit could answer, they hear a raucous outside the room, Kit is a little distracted but tries to ignore it, even though it’s so loud that even Irene seems curious, her head turning to the sides as if to hear all sides of the argument and judge the people in it. It was quite loud after all, and so he unconsciously also started speaking loudermand faster as his face grew red in embarrassment, probably fueled by the energy of the environment. 

“Look, I’ll think about it, but I cannot just dumpt this all on him out of the blue. I promise, once this whole thing is settled, I’ll tell Ty everything, okay? This would be a lot and I don’t want Ty to know until we’ve had a time to talk about everything else.” 

Everything goes slower and faster at once, Irene jumps from the bed at the sound of the door turning. Both Livvy and Kit look shocked and bewildered, both frozen to the spot as they hear heavy breathing coming from the door, as if someone had fought their way into the room. Livvy turns and looks delighted, though shoots an apprehensive look at Kit. Kit sees all the signs and refuses to add them up, his heart already beating out of his chest, in agony and bliss, and screaming at him to turn around and face the music. Everything turns quiet as all sounds go dead when he hears the person by the door say:  

“Until we’ve had a time to talk about what, Kit?”

Chapter Text

“Okay, Kit. Ready or not, here I go” 

He had said that, he had had this feeling that he wanted to show off in that moment, though he was unsure why as only Magnus was there. He shook his head, trying to shake away the feeling of being watched, having already scouted their surroundings to assuage that concern. 

He had heard it in a movie once, one of the ones Kit would show him where the protagonist was very cool and would always have everything go perfect and win the girl by the end of the movie. 

He fondly remembered those times, not because of the movies themselves, those he found to be very formulaic, predictable. But he still dedicated time to watch them back then, at least once a week, because he loved to watch Kit reacting to the movies; how he would laugh at the character’s banter, how he would jump at every jumpscare only to pretend he had been unaffected, how he would need to pause a movie when something happened to take a few deep breaths while looking absolutely flabbergasted –stunning, his mind now supplied–, with his hair in disarray from having played with it while watching whatever was on TV. 

Sometimes he would even walk some laps around the couch they were sitting on, talking back to the characters, judging them – “what are you doingggg? Oh my God, I can’t believe you’d do that, I told you you should not have gone there. If there is a noise in the basement, you should run away, not go towards it, you idiot. I swear, this is why no one should trust white people to run anything, they make dumb decisions, and I can say that” he would say while raising a hand, “because I’m also white and part of the problem.”

Ty’s favourite part though, would be when Kit got really surprised, it was like he suddenly became overcharged with energy. He was usually very good at pattern recognition, he was his Watson after all; and his past as a “crime prince” – Kit’s words, not his–, had made him love figuring out the endings of the movies before the first 20 minutes of the movie. He was a loud movie watcher; which, had it been anyone else, he would have found annoying; but nothing about Kit was annoying to him. Instead, it had been amusing, adorable even, watching him get excited when his predictions came true, or upset that the “directors should’ve hired him to make this better”. Ty was a silent movie watcher himself, but he found himself unable to not counter banter with Kit’s predictions, providing some of his own. 

At the time, he reasoned that he was just having a normal interaction with his friend. Now, he saw that under a different lens, he had been trying to get Kit’s attention. To be honest, it had been unnecessary, he can now admit it with some embarrassment. Because that’s what he loved about their movie nights, Kit’s attention was exclusively focused on Ty (and the movie, of course). 

Every time something happened, Kit would turn to look at his reaction, check in with him to ensure he was having fun, check that he still had his favourite snacks or drink,  make sure that he understood a scene; even going so far as to rewind if he did not get the reaction he was expecting. Kit had not only been loud but he was also physical, aside from his little runs around the couch, he would also move his hands around everywhere, sometimes throwing his hands in the air in exasperation, either up in the air or towards the TV, running them down his face, or through his hair and, Ty’s favourite, on him. 

This was the least frequent, but he would from time to time put his hands around him if he was scared –a hand grabbing him by the arm or a hand on his knee as an anchor–, or he would grab him by his shoulders and shake him if he was impatient or annoyed with a character. He would even sometimes bury his face behind Ty, only creeping out from time to time when a particular scene was too intense – “Just tell me when it’s over” he would say tensely and embarrassed. 

Sometimes, when the movie nights ran too long (every now and then they would try to watch a full series in one sitting), Kit would fall asleep –he had been “resting his eyes” he would say with flushed cheeks once he would realize that he had been laying on Ty’s shoulders or his lap. 

Ty had loved these moments, the quiet, the peace, the trust that he, Tiberius Blackthorn, had inspired in Kit. Kit who would often neglect his needs in order to make everyone else comfortable, he who would never choose himself before the world. Kit who never wanted to take space. The same Kit that would build walls around himself, to keep others away, charming his way out of any problem. 

To know that he alone got to experience these quiet moments with him, who got to see Kit unguarded, unconcerned, and free. In no world would he have thought that he; who so often was called too odd, too particular, too different; would get to cherish these moments, this side of Kit that he knew no one else was privy to. 

It had been exhilarating. 

He shook his head again, faintly. Now was not the time to revisit these memories, they had a mission. He looked towards Magnus, who seemed to be a little annoyed with him. His shoulders a little hunched and his eyes a little narrowed, one eyebrow raised as if he was waiting for an answer. 

He raised an eyebrow as well, feeling his cheeks a little warmer now, as if he had been caught. Could warlocks read people’s thoughts? He would have to investigate that later. 

Magnus was the first to break the silence, blinking slowly, huffing before saying “well?” 

Ty blinked, confused. He must have missed part of Magnus’ reply. “Well what? Did you say something? I wasn’t paying attention.” 

Magnus rolled his eyes and held the bridge of his nose while breathing deeply. “I swear all teenage shadowhunters are the same, it has to be something in their water.” 

Ty was about to reply when Magnus raised a hand, stopping him. “Before you start, remember that we are in a time crunch and we need to start looking for reinforcements if we want to have a chance against Giltiné. I know it’s been a time of a lot of revelations, but we do not have time to wait while you fantasize about making out with the Last Heir when you see him or the flecks in his eyes or whatever, Tiberius. Let’s maybe put a pin on that thought until we’re done with this mission first.”  

Ty felt like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs. He felt himself blushing immediately, his face now warm while he stammered, unable to filter his thoughts “I wasn’t even thinking about that, but now I will struggle not thinking about it when I see him, Magnus! By the Angel, I-I…”

He was quickly overwhelmed now with image after image of him and Kit from his memories, memories of them being close, always too close, and it was so easy to imagine himself taking a step closer, leaning into him. He wonders how Kit would react, now he’s really frustrated that he did not pay that much attention to the rom-com movies Kit picked, he had always kept his eyes on him, loving to see his every reaction, loving him.

“Magnus, what if I’m bad at it? I don’t know how to make out with someone? You’re the one that said I should not be distracted and now I will not be able to stop thinking about it!” he grunted as he ran a lap around the desk while running his hands through his hair. 

Magnus, to his credit, did look a little guilty muttering silently enough for Tiberius not to hear “right… I-uh… forgot who I was speaking to” before clearing his throat and clapping his hands, trying to stop the nervous wreck that was running a hole around Jace’s desk. 

“Alright, no time for distractions. I have a plan, so eyes on me, Tiberius. We're going to need all hands on deck if we want to save Kit” 

That seemed to break the spell. Tiberius seems to have switched the soldier switch back on once he remembered what was at stake here. “What’s the plan?” none of his previous nerves showing anymore, only an unwavering focus on the target at hand. 

“I think we should go to the Scholomance and enlist Catarina, she will be useful and she may know more about Giltiné. I’ll send a fire message to Jace, to let him and Kit know that they should lay low and meet us there as soon as possible. I’ll also let Tessa and Jem know just so that they’re careful as we do not know if she may try to break into their house in Devon. Alec may be too busy but we should still let him know to cover our bases. Is there anyone on your side you think we should enlist?” 

Tiberius quickly went through his mental list of people he trusted, some of them already part of the plan, like Catarina, Jace, Alec, Tessa and Jem; knowing that all of them had a lot of experience in battle and also cared about Kit. 

He already knew who else he needed there, feeling a twinge of guilt course through him, for the other people he needed had lives of their own as well, people he knew and loved, who he did not want any danger to come to them, but who he also wanted near and have his back when everything could go wrong. And this was a mission that couldn’t go wrong, it was too important, Kit was too important. 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, taking his phone out and dialing without giving in to his fears. He heard the call go through and, exactly one beep later, the other end of the line answered. He drew a deep breath and thought “okay, no going back now”, he could already hear Julian freaking out, he did not call often out of nowhere after all. Which is why they had their scheduled calls to make sure that they kept up with each other and keep Julian from stressing out over Ty being lonely and away from the Scholomance uninvited. 

“Ty?! Are you okay?! What’s-” He could hear Julian’s voice going higher and he could almost imagine him already packing a backpack in case he needed to go to him. He loved Julian, he was the closest thing he had to a father, but he could be a lot sometimes, he thought amused as he heard him running around already. That was Julian, unconditional, no questions asked, just there when you need him. 

Ty interrupted him “Julian, I need you to go to the Scholomance as soon as you can. I am okay, I cannot explain anything right now because we need to keep this confidential but it is important. Do you think you can bring Emma, Christina and Mark with you?”

Ty could hear Julian stop momentarily, catching up, before saying, a little unsteadily at first but quickly catching up, like he was buffering. This was fair, Ty admitted, he never asked for help, especially so urgently.  “...Of course, Ty, we’re here for whatever you need. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Ty smiled fondly, some of that feeling coming through his voice, even if he was rolling his eyes “Yes, Julian, I promise I’m okay. I’m in the New York Institute with Magnus right now, but I’ll send you a text once I get to the Scholomance. Let me know when you and the others will be there so we can start talking logistics. We may need Christina and Mark to help us locate Kieran as well, so just let them know” 

That seemed to break a little of Julia’s worry, now back to the usual “Wait, actually, Mark is with Jace and Kit, they apparently had to go on a mission to faerie.”

“Oh” was all Ty could say for a moment. He forced himself to stay calm and end the call with a “No worries, then, we’ve already contacted Jace so I guess they’ll come with him. See you then, bye!” and hung up the phone. 

He was spiralling a bit, he could feel it. On the one part, he felt a little better that Kit was with both Mark and Jace, they were good fighters, they could protect Kit. But did they have to be in faerie of all places? Where the creature, Giltiné, Ty’s mind supplied,  must be close by and following his trail leaves his skin crawling with concern. 

He turns to Magnus, and he must look as scared as he feels as he quickly sends the fire message he was writing, turning his attention to Ty: “Kit is in faerie, we do not have time to lose. I already told Julian and the others to meet us there, let’s go”.

Magnus simply nods his head, a little paler than before, setting his jaw; and opens the portal; the two of them going through it immediately after. 

He thought going back to the Scholomance would be a relief, while he did feel a little more settled, his mind was racing a thousand miles an hour, his heart trying to match it and his lungs seemed to not be able to keep up with it all. They appeared in front of Catarina’s office, knocking before going in.

Catarina was there, sitting in her desk and looking a little startled. She quickly got up and walked over “Tiberius, Magnus! What are you doing here?” a little higher than usual. 

Both of them narrrowed their eyes at Catarina, this was not the reaction they were expecting. They quickly explained what was happening and that more company would be coming for their mission, Catarina nodded in all the right moments but she seemed a little overwhelmed. She seemed to be absorbing the information correctly, but she would not meet Tiberus’s eyes when he mentioned he needed the book from her office, the one she had not let him borrow before, a pinch in between her eyebrows appearing. 

“Tiberius, there is something you should know. I…” she seemed to be weighing her words, which made Ty’s skin feel weird, like insects were crawling over it. Catarina was never nervous, and right now she was the blue version of the card Julian had made him so many years ago. 

Before she could finish, Jace and Mark entered her office, visibly upset and with Anush Joshi being dragged by his shirt. In any other scenario, this scene would have been welcomed.  Anush was weird, something about him made him feel uncomfortable, like he was expecting something from him even if he could not figure out what it was. 

It seemed that the whole Scholomance went quiet the second the oncoming trio noticed Ty in front of them. The whole room holding their breath for a seconf too long. Mark was the first to break it by smiling wide and going to hug Ty. Ty returned it, though a little harder than usual, his eyes still wide open as his eyes cataloged Jace’s expression. 

Jace looked shocked, guarded, and kept quickly glancing to the hallway that led to the wing where only the advanced Centurions slept on. The one that had been abandoned until he was enrolled in the program, the one where only one room was in use, his. 

Anush was doing something in the corner of his eyes, making too much noise as usual. Ty, did not register this in his brain because he could only think about Julian’s voice over the call, “actually, Mark is with Jace and Kit.” 

He disengaged from the hug and looked Mark in the eye, something he did not do frequently. Mark knew that this was hard for him, Mark never pushed, Mark never lied, so when Mark broke eye contact first, Ty knew everything he needed to know. He squeezed Mark’s wrist and left for the door, about to follow the hallway Jace kept glancing towards. 

Jace tried to block his path, opening his arms, as if trying to hug him, “What, there is no hug for me? Come on, man, I thought we were closer than that” and let out a forced chuckle. Had he been anyone else, he would not have been able to detect the nerves in Jace’s pose. But Jace was as much Herondale as Kit was, and they seemed to carry their feelings the same way. They diverted attention to themselves, put themselves in the line of danger to protect the ones they loved.

He felt his heart beating stronger now; that was all the confirmation he needed. He skirted past Jace too fast, and he heard all of them running towards him from all sides. First, Catarina, having portalled and trying to tell him that the book he wanted was in her office and they could go over it together, trying to compel him to break his pace. Mark and Jace had tried to stop him, admitting to what he already knew, saying that Kit would be too overwhelmed and that he should give him some space to come out on his own, once he’s ready. 

He had almost stopped, thinking it over, until Anush came out and said that Kit and Irene had thrown him out of his room and that Kit was an asshole. This made Ty stop altogether, a little dizzy with how fast he was breathing, his mind already forming a picture of his kit and irene in his room. Whatever thought he had had before evaporated as he felt an all-consuming need to get there as fast as possible. 

The wall of people that had formed in front of him were too focused on throwing Anush unimpressed and disappointed shocked looks, Jace literally smacking him on the head, and Mark yelling something like “Why would you say that?? Now he’ll be curious!”

It was until that moment that they all stopped and realized that Ty had used their distraction to skirt past them, running towards his room and hearing a voice coming from his room; his heart and lungs stopped for a few seconds as he heard Kit say, in a lower voice than he remembered, yet high and laced with stress: “Look, I’ll think about it, but I cannot just dump this all on him out of the blue. I promise, once this whole thing is settled, I’ll tell Ty everything, okay? This would be a lot, and I don’t want Ty to know until we’ve had a time to talk about everything else.”

He could hear the others running towards him, so he opened the door, locked it behind him and attempted to catch his breath. 

It was impossible, here, in his room, in his bed, lay Kit Herondale, with Livvy, and Irene. Three of the most important beings in the world to him. And Kit’s profile looked beautiful –and a little pale– bathed in sunlight, his hair a mess from running his hands through it –he remembered the look–, and his eyes wide open, the light from the window making the specks in his eyes all the more striking. He could not stop himself from thinking about Magnus’ comments, his cheeks reddening further, only breaking his train of thought once he felt Irene rubbing herself through his legs, purring loudly. 

Livvy looked delighted, yet a little spooked, probably because she was not expecting this, but she could also see the mirth beneath. She had been looking forward to this meeting for a while now, he knew; he had endured this conversation plenty of times, and now she had a front-row seat to their long-awaited reunion. 

His throat felt like sandpaper, his brain, heart and lungs refused to cooperate, but he forced his way through, for he needed to ask: “Until we’ve had a time to talk about what, Kit?”