AN: This is a request by one of my followers :) Feel free to send me any other prompts that you would like me to write! Jace is looking at his son for the first time, and so he writes a letter to his son, as his father wrote a letter to him.
His hand wrapped around the twenty six year old piece of paper in his pocket as he stared, unblinking, at the squished little face bundled up and laying in the small bassinet, sleeping peacefully and dreamlessly.
Jace Herondale was completely enthralled by the small figure of his son, Max Herondale, in a way he didn’t think could ever have been possible. He didn’t think he could ever love anyone as much as he loved Clary, but oh, how he was wrong. When he’d first held Max in his arms, he’d felt a mix of terror, exhilaration, and elation all at once. And when his son was taken from his arms so that the Silent Brothers could take his vital signs, he’d dropped his hands and looked up to find his exhausted wife smiling at him with amusement.
“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” she’d said tiredly.
Jace hesitated for a moment. “He looks like an alien.”
Clary had laughed herself into an exhausted sleep.
Now Jace stood in the nursery of Alicante’s only hospital, watching his son sleep, with his own father’s letter to him in his pocket. To my son...
If you are reading this, then you have grown past my own imagination, out of my household, and into the world.
I don’t know what the past 18 years have held, for you. For me, they are still in the future. I watched you begin your life today, brought into the world by the most beautiful woman in the world, into the most beautiful place in the world. And you are one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.
I want you to know that I know I’m going to make mistakes with you. In raising you. But I’m going to try my best to do right by you, because my own father never had the chance to do right by me. Anything I do for you will be done out of love.
I want you to know how lucky you are. You will likely grow up with both of your parents, who love each other, and who would do anything for each other. Many children do not have that luxury. I did not have that experience and neither did your mother. Neither do most Shadowhunters. Uncle Alec and Aunt Izzy grew up with both of their parents, but their childhoods were not easy.
I will always be here for you. I will always do my best to set an example for you. I will always love your mother.
Most of all, I will always love you. And I never want you to forget that.
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What you wrote about Jace is absolutely amazing! It flows so well and I wanted to read more lol... Good job! c; I love it :)
Thank you! Yeah, my favorite kind of fanfiction is the kind that fills in the holes that the author leaves. It's definitely my favorite kind to write :) Thank you so much!
AN: This is for the lovely mrscarstairs! Tessa teaches Jem some...er...21st century words. ;)
"Swag..."
Tessa pressed her hand to her mouth in order to stifle her laughter. She waved her free hand and shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut and letting a little giggle escape into the cold night air. "Never," she said, taking a deep breath. "Never say that again, Jem."
Jem frowned. "Why? It's a rather odd word, I'll give you that but--"
"Just don't Jem. If you do, I may have to push you over Blackfriar's Bridge myself."
Tessa took a french fry and popped it into her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully. "Dating."
Jem raised an eyebrow. "Dating?"
Tessa nodded and wiped her hands on the paper napkin she had in her lap. "Dating. It's kind of like courting."
"How does the...how does the courting system work these days? I know that Clary and Jace were...well, they were partners, but they never seemed to have any chaperones, or--"
Tessa laughed. "Chaperones! Oh, goodness, I completely forgot about chaperones!"
Jem smiled and cocked his head to the side a little, his expression quizzical.
Tessa shook her head. "Well, when a boy and a girl meet, they start 'talking,' which basically means that they're interested in each other, but they don't really know each other. Through the whole talking process, they tend to become friends. Then they want to know if they can become more than friends, so they start dating. They start doing things together that one wouldn't do with just a friend--perhaps a close friend, but close friends don't tend to hold hands and kiss. If they see themselves as more than friends, the boy usually 'asks the girl out' and if she says 'yes,' then they are a couple. They are 'going out,' which is practically the same thing as being engaged nowadays. Although, being engaged to said boyfriend or girlfriend comes after going out with them for a long period of time."
Jem blinked, his mind trying desperately to wrap around everything he'd just been told. "And...and how does one gauge if they want to be...if they are interested in the other?"
Tessa thought about it for a moment, biting off the end of a french fry. "Usually, the boy and girl think the other person is 'hot'."
Jem choked on his french fry. "I beg your pardon? Hot? As in...hot, like--like...these...these potato...stick...thingies?"
Tessa burst out laughing. "You can call them 'chips,' Jem, as you have lived more of your life in London than you have in America. And no, not...not like temperature hot. Hot is a sort of slang word for 'extremely attractive.' It's more casual than saying 'beautiful' or 'handsome.' If someone ever calls you hot, it means they are very aesthetically attracted to you."
Jem chewed on another french fry thoughtfully. "You know...Isabelle Lightwood said something about that the other day."
Tessa raised an eyebrow. "She did?"
Jem nodded. I was simply standing near them, shortly after my...er, transformation...and she whispered, 'Okayyyyyyyy...Since when did Brother Zachariah get hot?' I thought perhaps I looked feverish or some sort, but--"
Tessa laughed again and shook her head. "No. She was saying she thought you were highly attractive."
Jem paled a bit. "How awkward."
"Why's it awkward?"
Jem furrowed his brow. "Well...I'm her great-great-great grand uncle's parabatai.
I'm practically her great-great-great grand second uncle!"
AN: So...if any of you read fanfiction, you may have already seen this, under the username BreathofWindSongandFire1996. Well...that person is me.
SO . This is City of Bones in Jace's point of view. Chapter One. On Tumblr.
"Come on, Jace! We don't have all night!"
Jace Wayland rolled his eyes and finished the stealth rune on his right forearm. Normally it didn't take him this long to prepare for demon hunting. Normallyhe was the one downstairs and out the door, waiting on the sidewalk for his adoptive siblings, Isabelle and Alec Lightwood.
Normally he didn't have to put much effort into wiping his features clean of emotion.
Normally he didn't dream of a strange mundane girl with long, fiery red curls and bright green eyes.
Jace sighed and glanced at himself in the mirror. He was gorgeous, as well he knew. He smirked and flexed his fingers, heading out of his room to join his family.
AT THE PANDEMONIUM CLUB
Jace and Alec leaned against the wall nearest the entrance to the Pandemonium Club, watching Isabelle slink around a number of slightly drunk boys, taunting them with her body. Jace felt mildly disgusted. He had no room to talk, he knew. He treated girls the same way. They fulfilled his needs and then he discarded them. Isabelle did the same thing.
He'd been standing in a dimly lit room. A storage room, from what he could see. But he wasn't really paying attention to the room. He wasn't paying attention to the black ichor on his clothes or the long gash down his forearm. There was a girl. A Mundie girl. Half hidden behind a concrete pillar, her red hair spilling over her shoulders and down her back, her green eyes wide with fear.
He'd looked at plenty of girls. This girl was the only one he'd actually seen. This girl was the only one he'd wanted to see. And that terrified him more than anything else he'd ever known.
"Jace," Alec hissed. "Did you hear anything I just said?"
Jace just looked at him vacantly. Alec rolled his eyes, gripping Jace's arm and pointing across to Isabelle's retreating form. "I said, Izzy found him. She found the demon. Now let's go."
Alec pulled Jace off the wall. Jace detached himself from Alec's arm and followed the demon, completely unaware that a pair of eyes, the same green eyes that had been in his dream, were now watching him intently.
By the time Jace and Alec arrived in the storage room, Isabelle had already bound the demon with her whip. The demon was grinding his teeth and looking at the Shadowhunters with a mixture of fear and loathing. Jace stood in front of him, smirking, his hands shoved into his pockets. "So…who else is with you?"
The demon looked genuinely perplexed. "Wh-what do you mean?"
Alec clenched his jaw and stood next to Jace, brushing his shoulder. "What was your purpose in coming here?"
"I have no idea what you people are talking about. You're all insane. I was just minding my own business and then this…this she devil comes and-"
He was cut off by Isabelle's laughter. Her eyes glittered dangerously and she bared her teeth. "I'm the devil?"
The demon glared at her. "I didn't do anything wrong and then you decided to tie me up with a golden whip! Who the hell does that?"
Jace's hands curled into fists in his pockets. He heard the door open and close, quiet as a mouse. His body stiffened. This had happened before. This had happened in his dream. He didn't turn around but instead folded his arms over his chest and began pacing the length of the room, hoping to calm himself down. It was just a dream. Dreams don't really come true. And even if they did…he was Jace Wayland. Jace Wayland did not get nervous, and he sure as hell didn't get scared.
"So," he said. "You still haven't told me if there are any other of your kind with you."
A look flashed across the demon's eyes. Jace couldn't read it, which frustrated him. He could hear someone walking, tiptoeing behind him. He clenched his jaw and told himself it was a trick of his imagination. It had to be. And even if it wasn't, it could just be a couple of random Mundie kids sneaking in here to make out. It wasn't unheard of.
"I don't know what you're talking about," the demon said despairingly.
"He means other demons. You do know what a demon is, don't you?" Alec said sarcastically. Jace moved closer to the demon, avoiding looking behind him.
"Demons." He wrote the word in the air with his fingertips, lengthening the word as if he were a kindergartener, laboriously sounding out a word. "Religiously defined as Hell's denizens, the servants of Satan, but understood here, for the purposes of the Clave, to be any malevolent spirit whose origin is outside our own home dimension-"
Isabelle cut him off, much to his annoyance. "That's enough, Jace."
Alec placed a hand on his shoulder. "Isabelle's right. No one needs a lesson in semantics-or demonology."
Jace thought back to his dream. The girl. If she really was here, in this room…she would need the lesson. And he would like to be the one to teach her… to pull her into his world of shadows and scars. Jace shook his head to clear it. Of course she wasn't here. It was a dream, for god's sake. He looked up and smiled, wanting suddenly to kill the demon without further delay and flee. "Isabelle and Alec think I talk too much." He leaned in toward the demon. "Doyou think I talk too much?"
Some sort of light seemed to go out of the demon. He hunched his shoulders. "I could give you information," he said hopefully. "I know where Valentine is."
Valentine. The name sent a jolt of hatred through Jace. He looked at Alec incredulously, who just shrugged as if saying He's obviously lying. "Valentine's in the ground. The thing's just toying with us."
Isabelle tossed her hair, exasperated. "Kill it, Jace. It's not going to tell us anything."
Jace couldn't agree more, and the room was becoming suffocating. He wanted to leave. He wanted to flee the room and never come back. He wanted to chase away the dream of the red-haired girl. He couldn't figure out why it had unnerved him so badly and he wanted to forget it. He raised his knife and panic shot through the demon like wildfire. "Valentine is back!"
Jace hesitated for the fraction of a second. The demon seemed to notice this and he strained against his bonds. "All the Infernal Worlds know it-I know it-I can tell you where he is-"
The shock of hatred and anger ripped through Jace's body again. He clenched his jaw. "By the Angel, every time we capture one of you bastards, you claim you know where Valentine is." He took a deep breath. "Well, we know where he is, too. He's in hell, and you-" Jace gripped the knife, tightly, forgetting for a few moments about the dream. The only thing that existed in his world was himself, his family, and this demon. And the demon was as good as gone. "You can join him there."
"Stop! You can't do this!"
Jace's heart leapt into his throat and he spun around, so shocked that he dropped the knife. There she was. The girl from his dream. Red hair, green eyes, everything. Same fear in her expression. Jace took a deep breath and wiped his face clean of emotion. This can't possibly be happening, he thought. No way. It's just a dream, Jace. A dream within a dream. You'll wake up any minute and then-
But no. There was Alec and there was Izzy and there was the demon, all looking almost as astonished as Jace had felt. Though not, Jace knew, for the same reason. "What's this?" Alec demanded.
Jace resumed his signature, sarcastic tone. "It's a girl. You've seen girls before, Alec. Your sister Isabelle is one." He took a hesitant step closer to the girl, who, he couldn't help but notice, was staring at him. He felt pleased. He squinted at her, still trying to convince himself he was dreaming. "A Mundie girl…and she can see us."
The girl lifted her chin defiantly. "Of course I can see you," she said. "I'm not blind, you know."
Jace bent and picked up his knife, partially because he needed it, partially because he had to tear his eyes away from the girl. She was making him feel…uncomfortable. Unsettled. He controlled girls' emotions. They didn't control his emotions. "Oh but you are. You just don't know it." He gripped his knife again, feeling the familiar hilt in his palm. "You'd better get out of here, if you know what's good for you."
The girl crossed her arms stubbornly. "I'm not going anywhere. If I do, you'll kill him."
Jace grit his teeth. He wanted her to go away…and yet, he didn't. He wanted to do exactly what he had wanted to do in his dream. He wanted to take her with him. To train her like a Shadowhunter, even if she had no Clave blood. To be with her forever… No, Jace. You don't even know her. You can't…you can't possibly be in love with her. He looked at the girl again, twirling his knife around. "That's true. What do you care if I kill him or not?"
"Be-because—You can't just go around killing people."
Jace laughed inside. She really was a Mundie. "You're right," he said. "You can't go around killing people." He jerked his thumb towards the demon. "That's not a person, little girl. It may look like a person and talk like a person and maybe even bleed like a person. But it's a monster."
"Jace, that's enough." He knew Isabelle was right. He'd said too much already and he was regretting it. When he looked at the girl's terrified expression, he felt like an empty pit had opened up in his heart. He hadn't meant to scare her…
The girl started backing away. "You're crazy. I've called the police, you know. They'll be here any second." Jace noticed the electrical wires snaking around her feet.
Alec frowned. "She's lying. Jace, do you-"
They were all startled by a high-pitched scream, like a battle cry, and then suddenly Jace was on the ground, the blue-haired demon on top of him, slashing Jace's skin with his claws. His heart sped up. The demon finally attacked, and Jace was beyond thrilled, if he was honest with himself. He loved to fight. Sometimes he even loved the pain. It helped him to forget.
It was helping him forget right now. Everything- the unsettling, red-haired girl from his dream, Izzy, Alec- they all disappeared. The only thing in this world was Jace. Jace and the demon, trying to kill one another. And Jace knew he'd win.
He rolled over onto his back and the demon leapt up, landing on Jace's chest. His claws slashed down towards Jace's chest and Jace threw his hands up to ward off the blow, receiving a long gash down his arm. Didn't see that one coming, Jace thought sarcastically.
Isabelle was screaming something at him, but he ignored it. The demon suddenly shrieked and rolled off of Jace, and Jace saw Isabelle's golden whip gleaming with black ichor. Jace rolled over, gripping the knife. He flicked his wrist and drove the knife deep into the demon's chest. Ichor fountained up around the hilt and Jace stood up, grimacing. He pulled the knife out from the demon's chest and cradled his arm against his soaking wet clothes. What was ichor and what was blood, he couldn't tell, nor did he care.
The demon was staring at him, furious. "So be it. The Forsaken will take you all."
Jace growled at the demon as it began to fold in on itself, no doubt returning to its home dimension. He heard the girl scramble for the door and suddenly he was furious. That demon would've been dead a lot sooner if it weren't for her. It would've been dead and Jace wouldn't be holding his arm carefully, as he was now. He turned around and saw Isabelle wrap her whip around the girl's wrist angrily. "Stupid little Mundie," she hissed. "You could've gotten Jace killed."
I seriously doubt that demon could've killed me, Jace thought. The girl tried to pull her wrist free and winced. He didn't like it. Jace didn't like the girl being hurt. She's a mundane, Jace. Get ahold of yourself. What is with you today? All because of a stupid dream that happens to be coming true… It's just Déjà vu.
"He's crazy. You're all crazy. What do you think you are, vigilante killers? The police-"
Jace interrupted her. "The police aren't usually interested unless you can produce a body." He started walking carefully towards her, picking his way around the debris. He hardly noticed Alec following behind him. This was his dream. The exact way his dream had gone. He saw the girl look over his shoulder, where the demon disappeared. "They return to their home dimensions when they die," said Jace. "In case you were wondering."
"Jace." Alec's voice floated to him from far away. Jace barely heard him. "Be careful."
Jace turned to look at his parabatai, very slowly letting his injured arm fall to his side. "She can see us, Alec. She already knows too much.
"So what do you want me to do with her?"
Jace turned back towards Isabelle and the girl, who was wrinkling her freckled little nose in pain. He fought back the urge to go to her and comfort her and heal her wrist. "Let her go," Jace said softly, almost a whisper. It was the only thing he could think of. Maybe they would never cross paths again. Maybe he could be safe from those green eyes that seemed to tear every wall he had built up around him down.
Isabelle looked furious, but let the girl go. Alec hesitated. "Maybe we should bring her back with us. I bet Hodge would like to talk to her."
Jace's heart skipped a beat. Maybe they could. Maybe he really could drag this girl into his world of darkness and killing. Jace studied the girl hard. She was now as white as a ghost and clutching her wrist, her green eyes wide.
"No way are we bringing her to the Institute," Isabelle scoffed. "She's a Mundie."
"Or is she?" Jace said, dangerously quiet. He moved closer to the girl, who was watching him warily. "Have you had dealings with demons, little girl? Walked with warlocks, talked with the Night Children? Have you-"
"My name is not 'little girl,'" the girl snapped. "And I have no idea what you're talking about."
Jace saw the doubt on her face, as fleeting as a cool breeze in the desert. She continued. "I don't believe in-in demons, or whatever you-"
The door to the storage room flew open, and Jace whipped his head towards it incredulously. A boy with dark, curly hair and nerdy looking glasses peered in at the girl, puzzlement written all over his face. "Clary?"
The girl whirled at the sound of her name. Clary, Jace thought. It was the most beautiful name in the world, in his opinion. And it suited her. The boy started talking at the speed of light, concern written all over his face. Jace scowled.
"Are you okay? Why are you in here by yourself? What happened to the guys- you know, the ones with the knives?"
Jace breathed a sigh of relief. This boy couldn't see them. Only Clary could. He grinned at her and shrugged, as if to say he was sorry her friend couldn't see what she could. Even though he wasn't sorry. No, he wasn't sorry at all. In fact, he was over the moon.
Clary stepped carefully out of the wires, her shoulders hunched in defeat. "I thought they went in here. But I guess they didn't. I'm sorry." She flushed. "It was a mistake."
AN: Here's some Clace/Herondale fluff to start off December right! Happy December 1st! May the finals be ever in your favor!
Also: Max is named after obviously Max Lightwood. Resa is named after Tessa Gray, whose full first name is Theresa. I got the idea from Cornelia Funke's Inkheart.
Jace stood over the table in the weapons room, pounding the unfinished seraph blade with a special hammer given to Clary as a gift from the Iron Sisters a few years back. She’d given it to him as soon as they’d left the forges, shrugging her shoulders and telling him she’d never use it. Jace put it to good use, though. He’d already made five blades with it, and he prided himself on them.
There was a rustle under the table and Jace smirked. He picked up the unfinished blade and held it in front of him in an attack stance. He crept slowly toward the open door. “Show yourself! I can slice your head off with this blade, even if it isn’t finished!”
He heard something behind him shuffle quickly across the floor and then stop right before it reached him. Jace leaned over and shut the door, careful not to turn around. He looked around at all the weapons hanging on the walls. “On the count of three, if you don’t show yourself, you will die!” A crooked smile fixed itself on his face.
Something tiny wrapped itself around his leg, its grip strong for something so small. A high pitched voice called out. “I got you Daddy!”
Jace looked down into the green eyes of his tow-headed son and pretended to cry out, terrified. “Ah! I didn’t see you there, Max! You scared me!”
Max grinned up at his dad. “I know. You didn’t see me because I’m so fast, like you. I’m even faster!”
Jace grinned and hurled the seraph blade at the wall, watching it stick in the wood. He bent down and pried Max off of his leg, settling the four year old on his hip. He was heavy. How Clary managed to carry him around like this all day was beyond him. “You’re not faster than me, kid. You have to grow big and strong first, like I did, and then you can be just as fast as me.”
“Faster.”
“No way. No one’s as fast as your dad.”
“I’m gonna be faster, Daddy,” Max said with finality.
Jace smirked back at his son. He’d inherited Clary’s stubbornness and his competitive streak. It made a dangerous, but powerful combination. The extra angel blood didn’t help either. Jace only shrugged. “We’ll see in a few years, now, won’t we?”
“Max! Mom says you have to finish your carrots before you can leave the table! Oh…sorry Dad.”
Jace looked back at the door as a young, thin girl with curly red hair and gold eyes walked into the room, her hands covered in ink. She was so much like Clary that sometimes Jace felt like he was getting an inside look to Clary’s childhood. Minus the golden eyes, of course. Those were his and his alone. Jace looked back at his son in mock disapproval. “Max. You didn’t eat your carrots?”
Max shook his head. “No. Don’ like carrots.”
At least he was truthful. Jace set him on the ground and pushed him gently toward the door. “Go start eating your carrots,” he said, watching the little boy walk out of the room with drooping shoulders. “I’ll be there in a couple minutes to help you hide them in your napkin!” he called out, laughing as Max perked up and took off running.
He turned to his daughter, who was frowning after her brother, and laughed. He held his hand out. “C’mon, Resa. Let’s go see what we can do about your broken pen.”
Resa gaped at him. “How did you know?”
Jace winked and took her hand. “Same thing happened to Mom once, and she looked exactly like you do now.”
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AN: This is William Herondale's death from his perspective. Please do not plagiarize.
"Will."
"Will, wake up."
The girl’s voice became more strained as she continued.
"Will, please wake up.”
"Will…Will, please, I want to see you one last time." The girl’s voice hitched at the end, as if she were holding back tears.
At last, Will broke the surface of consciousness and peeled his eyes open, blinking sleep rapidly out of his eyes. He managed to focus on one—no, two—objects in the room. Two people. A young girl and a tall man in a hooded, floor length robe that seemed to be made of dust and shadows. The man’s eyes were gone, his lips stitched shut, his face seemingly expressionless, but the girl’s face was pale and worried.
"Will? Do you want some tea?"
Will stared at the girl. She was very beautiful, and something deep within him stirred at the sight of her. He reached out to touch her smooth, line-less face when it hit him. He smiled weakly.
"Good morning, Tess," he rasped.
Tessa’s face lit up and she set the cup of tea she’d been clutching in her hands next to him on the nightstand. “Oh, Will,” she sighed, flinging her arms around him.
In response to the sudden pressure on his chest, Will began to cough violently, and Tessa let him go so quickly he almost thought he’d burned her for some strange reason. He frowned.
"Oh, I’m so sorry, Will," Tessa said, dabbing the corners of his mouth with a handkerchief. As much as he enjoyed being fussed over, he did not like being treated as if he were a child.
"Tessa," he said, sucking in air. "You need not…treat me as if I were a baby. I am..quite the opposite." He chuckled to himself, which turned into a violent fit of coughing.
Tessa’s eyes were full of worry, but she pulled back all the same, squeezing his hand tightly.
Mrs. Herondale, may I speak to you for a moment?
Tessa looked back at who Will now recognized as a Silent Brother, and then looked back at him wistfully. “I’ll be right back,” she assured him.
Will sighed, too weak to nod, and leaned back further into his pillows as his wife left the room with the Silent Brother. He knew what they were going to talk about. He knew he wouldn’t make it through the night.
He knew his time in this world was drawing to a close. The curtain was closing. The flame was sputtering.
He was dying.
After a few moments, the Silent Brother came back in alone and sat in the chair next to Will.
"Where…where is Tessa? Where…is my…Tess?"
She has a few errands to run. She will be here soon.
Will didn’t say anything. He felt irrationally irritated. Why couldn’t the Silent Brother run the errands? Tessa was his wife. She was the one he wanted by his side at all times. Not some official of the Clave.
He he held his hand in front of his face, examining it with a sort of detached curiosity. It was wrinkled and covered in little brown spots. He could clearly see his veins threading through his skin and his wrists. His family ring clung to his sagging skin. He balled his hand up in a fist, a pang of regret and longing shooting through his chest.
He wanted nothing more than to jump out of bed, run down the street, and sweep Tessa up into his arms. He wanted to race down the side of a hill in Wales, feel the grass beneath his feet, the wind blow through his hair, hear the birds chirping in the cool morning air. He wanted to slide his seraph blade through a demon one last time. He wanted to finally test his theory that ducks would drown if you tied rocks to their feet.
He wanted to hold Tessa. He wanted to kiss her like his life depended on it. He wanted to do countless, nameless things to her, just once more.
He wanted to train with Jem. He wanted Jem by his side as he fought one last time. One last round with his parabatai.
He wanted to be young again.
"Will?"
Will glanced up at Tessa, who was standing in the doorway, and smiled weakly at her. Poor Tessa. Poor Tessa, who really had turned out to be a warlock. He felt guilty, so guilty, for leaving her. Despite his better knowledge, he felt like a coward. Like he was the one terrified of living, so terrified that he was leaving one of two people he loved with his entire heart behind, alone.
At least he knew Jem would take care of her for a while, yet.
"Hello," he breathed at last, noticing that Tessa had climbed into the bed next to him. He leaned against her and inhaled her scent deeply. "Where…were you?"
Tessa took his left hand into her small, smooth ones and laid her cheek atop his head. She didn’t mind that the little hair he had left was white. She loved him no matter what, and for that he was eternally grateful. When he’d first noticed that she wasn’t aging like he was, he’d panicked. He worried that once he was no longer beautiful, like he had been in his past, she would find him revolting and leave him.
She had settled that anxiety by screaming at him and then not speaking to him for the rest of the day. He’d felt incredibly guilt that night as they lay in bed, when he could hear her muffled sobs next to him. He hadn’t known what to do, then, except apologize and hold her tightly.
He couldn’t even wrap his arms around her now.
"I…I had to place some telephone calls," she told him, rubbing his hand gently. "Cecy and Gabriel are on their way. Sophie should be by too."
"And the children?"
"And the children."
"Tessa?"
Tessa leaned back and looked at her husband. He gazed into those beautiful grey blue eyes, and a sense of peace and calm settled over him.
"Yes, Will?"
"I love you."
Tessa’s eyes welled up with tears and she blinked furiously, squeezing his hand and kissing the top of his head.
———————————————————————————————————————————————
Cecily leaned heavily on her cane, helping Gabriel rise from his chair. “I’m afraid we must be going,” she said, her voice hitching. “Will…”
He shook his head slightly, glad to have been able to see his sister one last time. “I shall see you soon, Cecy.”
She nodded, wiping away the tears that had spilled over her still-long lashes and down her lined cheeks. Gabriel adjusted his glasses and nodded slowly to Will. “Hail and farewell, William Herondale. May we meet again.”
Will made a choked noise that sounded like a laugh. “Let us hope you are not as weaselly and annoying in the next life as you are in this one, Gabriel.”
———————————————————————————————————————————————-
Will was exhausted. All he wanted to do was sleep, but he knew he couldn’t.
Not yet.
He still had Tessa.
He could feel her tears on his skin, though she was trying very hard to hide the fact that she was crying from him. She was clinging onto his hand so tightly he feared it might break. If it did, he wouldn’t mind. He almost hoped she would break it.
Suddenly, the door to their bedroom opened, and another Silent Brother swept in, though Will could immediately identify this one.
Jem.
Without a word, Jem opened the chest at the food of the bed and took out his violin. He stood next to the bed, on Will’s other side, and wordlessly began to play. Will smiled slightly.
After twenty or so minutes of contentedly listening to Jem’s sweet, high melodies and letting Tessa’s warmth and comfort envelop him, he turned to look up at his wife. He made direct eye contact with her before he said it.
"I love you," he whispered.
Her expression changed. She smiled for him, but he knew how sad she was. How much this was hurting her. And it hurt him. But death couldn’t be avoided now. It was inevitable, and it was knocking at his door, anxious for him to open it.
Will closed his eyes and finally, finally let the dark tendrils of sleep that had been clawing at him all day wrap around him and drag him into its depths, Tessa’s last declaration of love and Jem’s last notes on the violin ringing in his ears.
He was at peace.
———————————————————————————————————————————————-
Will stood on a river bank, looking around, bewildered. He was young again, much to his surprise. Around him was a dark forest, and through the trees, he could see a faint, bright light.
A man clothed in white appeared next to him on the bank. “Your loved ones are through the evergreen wood,” he told Will, who was still peering through the trees. “Follow the path, do not get lost, and stop only when you reach the ivory gates. Only then will you live in peace forever.”
Will was silent, fidgeting with his family ring. He looked at the man.
"I’m waiting for someone."
———————————————————————————————————————————————-
1987
"Follow the path through the evergreen wood and be at peace."
"I’m waiting for someone."
———————————————————————————————————————————————-
2037
"Follow the path through the evergreen wood and find peace."
"I’m waiting for someone."
———————————————————————————————————————————————-
2068
In the distance, Will could see a tiny figure floating across the river on a small raft, toward him. In the past years, he had greeted countless people who came across these waters, none being the one he was looking for. He had greeted his children, his grand children, family members he didn’t even know he’d had. He’d briefly greeted one with James’s eyes and his father’s hair, named Jace, but that one had left as quickly as he had come, much to Will’s confusion.
But this one seemed different.
As the figure got nearer, Will could make out a tuft of black hair with a silver streak in it, black eyes rimmed with the same silver. The boy was slender and tall, elegant, and dressed in a sweater and a pair of odd pants Will had only seen a few times in his years on the river bank.
Will broke into a grin, stood up, and held his hand out to the boy, who’s raft had hit the shore. “Finally,” he said.
Jem stepped on the bank and took his parabatai’s hand. They embraced each other tightly, for as long as they could before they decided it was time to join the others.
"Finally," Jem confirmed, slinging his arm around his brother’s shoulders.
With that they walked through the evergreen wood, through the ivory gates, and into the company of those whom they loved, arm in arm, soul in soul.
