#sh verse

Aline had found a kinship with Alec from a very young age. He reminded her very much of herself: so afraid of disappointing those close to her, that the need to prove herself overtook everything else. It was a burden that weighed heavier on her shoulders the older she became. Aline saw what overcoming that burden had done for Alec. He seemed happier and more self-assured. He had stepped out of the shadows and was no longer afraid to stand up for who or what he believed in, regardless of Clave tradition. Aline hoped that once Alec had been appointed Head of the Institute,  the Clave would be more open to newer ideals. That hope had been premature, to say the least. Nothing had changed. Those not brave enough to criticize Alec to his face had done so behind his back, both in hushed conversation and quite openly to anyone at the Council meetings who were primed to listen. Such a backwards institution would never, in this lifetime, be fully accepting of the kind of leader Alec positioned himself to be.

Almost as if she could read Aline's mind, Jia spoke to that very concern, "Times are changing. The younger generation doesn't see things as black and white as we once did. We should have a Council that reflects that, don’t you think?" Jia and Patrick Penhallow were hardly sticklers for the law. Their marriage had been one of mild controversy, and plagued the discussions of Clave members for several months after they had already taken over the Beijing Institute. Aline had heard the stories, and she still admired her mother's backbone in light of such contention. After all, look where it had gotten her. Jia Penhallow was one of the most respected Clave officials in all of Alicante, the very reason she had been elected Consul.  

"It doesn’t matter what I think," Aline remarked defeatedly. Despite recent events, she had long ago succumbed to the Clave's rigidity.

"On the contrary," her mother was never one to yield in the face of adversity, "it matters very much." Jia had a way of speaking that inspired the will of others, Aline included. "Your voice, and others like it, will make all the difference in this fight for tolerance." 

Aline speculated the idea that maybe her mother knew more about her than she let on. Before she could further dwell on this particular thought, Jia continued, "Alec can do his part in New York, but the delegates we select for the Council should help pave the way for the future." It was clear, given her years of service, that Jia had expected such political reform. "The Clave is not without its faults," it was a fair admission, "but the Council did not object in any way to take on Alec Lightwood as a delegate. Nor did they oppose the recommendation of Andrew Blackthorn's eldest child."

Aline's curiosity peeked at the mention of the Blackthorns. It was a last name that had become synonymous with scandal within the shadowhunter community. When the family patriarch was rumored to have had Seelie-born children, it was impossible to remain unnoticed. The Clave viewed the blending of pure shadowhunter blood with that of a downworlder as unconscionable; the Blackthorns endured the unfortunate consequences of that judgment for several years. Even though they had been allowed to remain Co-Heads of the Los Angeles Institute, Andrew and Eleanor were never invited to attend Council meetings or important Clave ceremonies. In turn, they were not subtle in their disdain for the Law, their children having long suffered under its prejudice. Yet despite these setbacks, Andrew's daughter Helen had made quite the name for herself in her commitment and skills as a shadowhunter. Still, her trustworthiness had been called into question on several occasions, given her faerie blood. It was a wonder that the Council agreed to offer her a position as one of their delegates. Aline suspected the Council's lack of resistance was a ploy to keep a closer eye on the girl. Either way, with her mother at the helm, Aline was quite optimistic to how this might play out.