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dontmindmyshadowhunting · 1 year

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Herondales Don't Fail Ch. 4 - Unexpected Encounters

Ao3 / 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

Kit Herondale, Ty Blackthorn (Kit/Ty), original characters

Wordcount: 4,694 words

Rating: Mature (most of this story features canon-typical violence and sexual content but might occasionally go a bit past it, so... M just to cover all bases)

Summary: It’s been almost five years since an epic line-up of Shadowhunter heroes and their allies closed all the portals to Hell. Now, demons are scarce and the Nephilim are searching for their purpose in this new world. Centurion Ty Blackthorn has been sent to London to investigate a potential new threat, while Kit Herondale has taken up a post helping to rebuild the London Enclave.

Kit was happy to accept the London Institute’s invitation to assist in the rebuilding of the city’s Enclave. But he didn’t count on being blindsided into joining the competition to become its next head - or being hated by most of its inhabitants who assume he’s only there because of his name.

On one hand, Kit thought idly, the Institute’s library was amazing in both the depth of knowledge it held, as well as its gothic aesthetic. On the other hand, the utter silence that permeated throughout (he suspected there was some sort of warlock spell slash ancient rune going on) was terrible for his concentration, which wasn’t that great to begin with. He’d rather a busy coffee shop or a bustling public square or university quad. He sighed and tried to focus on his book.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Kit saw Jacob appear out of a nearby stack. With a determined air, he set down a small stack of papers on the wide, ancient desk that Kit was using. Beside him, he could see Ty subtly crane his neck to see what was going on.

“As promised, the most relevant sources I could find on Institute-Faerie relations from 2007 onwards,” Jacob told, tapping a single finger on the papers. “Thought you might want the view from the Cold Peace onwards.”

“Thanks a lot,” Kit said sincerely. He closed the book of Vampire Amour: The story of Camille Belcourt, which despite the promising title was actually quite dry and didn’t seem like it would prepare him for his meeting with the local vampire clan. Plus, Camille had apparently left the city in the early 1900s for New York.

“There are maps of the local portals to Faerie included in it, and meeting transcripts with both Seelie and Unseelie court representatives, along with a few recorded instances with the Wild and Free Fae,” Jacob said. He trailed off, his gaze drifting to Ty, who was quietly reading his own findings on demonic summonings throughout the city’s history, in case it provided any clues on the wraiths.

“But?” Kit had a feeling Jacob was waiting to say more but was hesitant to do so in front of a Centurion. From his brief stay at the Institute, despite their supposed collaborative nature Kit had observed an undercurrent of rivalry between the two institutions. Which made it interesting given Ty’s insistence that they score the Institute library for any clues.

Jacob hesitated then continued, his voice pitched lower, which Kit found slightly amusing, given what he knew about Shadowhunters’ typically keen hearing. “The primary sources I found seemed to be thinner than expected. Perhaps related to the low staffing we’ve had at the Institute in recent years. It’s something I’ve encountered across several subject areas.”

“Hmm.” Kit wondered if that was intentional. “What other areas?” He leaned forward to look at the papers.

“Mostly Downworld issues,” Jacob said. “Partially why I’m embarking on my warlock interviews, to fill in the gaps.”

Kit decided to take a leap. “Did you come across any mention of tithes?”

“Tithes?” Jacob eyed him. “Like the religious ones we receive from churches and synagogues and mosques, temples etc.?”

“Those or any other type. Apparently Institutes used to use them quite often,” Kit mentioned. He could sense rather than see Ty’s attention focusing in on them.

Jacob scoffed. “It’s an antiquated tradition,” he said. But he hesitated. “There’s- read the documents I’ve prepared,” he said. “We can discuss it more when I’m back from Berlin,” he said, a touch self-importantly. He was departing that afternoon for meetings with the European Heads, along with Evelyn and Roger. Kit and Sabina were to hold down the fort while they were gone.

“Sure.” Kit studied him. “Have a good time- and thanks again, Jacob.”

Ty wore a look of subtle concentration, as he watched Jacob stride out of the library, making short work of the distance. “He definitely knows more than he told you about tithes,” he said conversationally, a minute or two after Jacob left. He shut the large, stained and mouldering summoning book he had been studying and swung his legs around, standing up to stretch.

“Mmm,” Kit agreed. “Whether he plans to share it is another question entirely. But I plan to do some snooping while he, Evelyn and Roger are out. Maybe that will shed some light.”

Ty nodded as he packed away his notebooks. “Good luck with it,” he said, bending down to give him a quick kiss on the forehead. “I have to head back to Whitehall now - I’ll see you later.”

“I have patrol tonight,” Kit reminded him. “I’ll see you when I get in.”

Sabina hovered her hands over the locked case of ceremonial blades in Evelyn’s office, Fingers trembling, she unlocked the cupboard and picked up the nearest weapon. Thunder boomed overhead and she jumped as the rainstorm intensified outside. Get a hold of yourself, she shook herself internally.

Roger hadn’t been receptive to her request, his voice sharp as he explained she was responsible for her own ‘mundane issues.’ No one would miss one, jewel-encrusted blade, least of all Evelyn, who though she tried to hide it, was rapidly losing her sight, Sabina knew. She could pawn it and in the month it would take her to save up to buy it back, no one would notice it was gone.

She palmed it, turning- and jumped at the shadow in the doorway. The knife clattered onto the ground several feet away. The shadow emerged into the light, picking it up.

“Here you go,” Herondale’s voice was calm in the shattering silence that followed.

“I was just-” Sabina saw a calculating light in his eyes, and she felt a flash of rage before the despair. She had thought it safe, with the meeting in Berlin planned, and last she had seen Kit, he had been in the library.

“As a former pickpocket and knife-stealing connoisseur, I know exactly what you were about to do,” he said agreeably.

She thought about denying it but realised the futility. Her shoulders slumped. “I might as well just hand over the keys of the Institute now then, shall I?”

There was further silence as Sabina internally tried to rationalise what she had done and figure out if she could explain… and then Kit snorted. “Don’t do that,” he said lightly. “I’d hate for all of my own efforts to avoid the responsibility to be wasted.”

Wait, what was that? Amid her panic, his words stuck in her head.

She looked over at him, sceptical. “You don’t want to be Head?”

He shook his head, a small crooked smile emerging.

She watched him, worrying the blade handle. This had to be a trick of his- she had heard Herondales were wily strategists, although this was coming out of left field. She beat down that note of hope.

“Why not? You’re a Herondale; Evelyn is practically begging you to take over,” she said, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

Kit came over and gestured - she handed him the dagger she was still clutching in her hand. “Nice ruby,” he said, hefting the blade and she could almost hear him thinking as he turned it over. It glinted in the light. “Looks similar to the ones I lifted out of the L.A. Institute.”

“Teenage misdeeds, I’m sure.” She resisted snatching back the dagger.

He handed it back to her and hoisted himself up on a nearby weighty trunk holding ceremonial swords. Very deliberately he turned around, whistling as if minding his own business. He didn’t ask her why a senior member of the London Institute was stealing ornamental weapons.

Sabina hesitated a moment but replaced the dagger. She’d find another way to help her nine - maybe see if that payday loan place would take an advance on her salary so she could pay for the surgery in Istanbul. Kit turned around as soon as he heard the small click of the ancient case close shut. She squared her shoulders to face him - now he had leverage on her, which was never a good sign.

Almost as if he were reading her thoughts, he started talking again, this time his voice a fraction higher and faster, as if confessing.

“I shouldn’t take over the Institute because I’m wholly unsuited to it,” he said. “I’ve broken Clave laws - I’ve lifted weapons from Institutes to sell, I’ve told my mundane friends about the Shadow World, I’ve been to therapy, I’ve helped Downworlders escape Clave warrants, I’m definitely way closer to the mundane world than I should be...”

“I come from a mundane background,” Sabina reminded him. “It seems to be less of a deal-breaker than it used to be. Plus, it doesn’t seem like breaking rules did Jace Herondale any harm. Or any Herondale.”

He let out a frustrated noise. “How about I just tell you- I don’t want to be head of the London Institute. Jace does a great job running the New York Institute but I’m not him. Fuck the Herondale name. Fuck its legacy,” he said, his sky-blue eyes serious as he met her gaze.

There was a pause as they both sized the other up. “All right…” Sabina looked at him. She could either believe him… or not. “What do you want then?”

He gave a brief shrug. “I dunno? To be a normal Shadowhunter, to go on patrols, come back home to my brilliant boyfriend, maybe forge better ties between Shadowhunters and the London Downworld… I want to help rebuild the London Enclave however I can--” he said. “But I don’t want to be tied to it as head of Institute. I hate meetings, politics… and paperwork.”

Sabina felt tired. “You say this now…”

“Right- maybe, in say another decade,” Kit said. He smiled cheekily. “Maybe once you retire, I’ll reconsider.”

“Oi, I’m only a few years older than you,” Sabina said, but she was starting to relax a bit. And he had said…

“So, you think I should be the next head?” she asked casually.

Kit looked surprised at her question. “Up until I saw you stone-cold stealing from the current head, sure. Even then, depending on your reasons, that probably increases your qualifications in my eyes. And regardless - you’re miles better than poshy mcposh face.”

“Jacob isn’t that bad,” she conceded and she thought she saw a flash of surprise cross his face at her defense of him.

“He’s also a Dearborn,” he muttered but backed down when she gave him a look.

“Bit rich from ‘I don’t want to be a Herondale-”

“I never said I didn’t want to be a Herondale,” Kit hastily corrected her. “I just want to be one in a different way.” He considered her question but quickly answered. “And maybe it’s petty of me with the Dearborn stuff but c’mon surely you don’t want to exchange one pale, stale male for another, just with a hotter accent. Plus, you’re the better Shadowhunter than him, right?”

“Definitely,” she shot back. “Better than you as well.”

Kit’s grin changed to one with a challenging, arrogant edge. “Oooh, I see how it is.” But it quickly softened as he jumped down and started walking for the door. “Let’s not argue semantics but say that you’re likely better suited to running an Institute and I’m much better at-”

“Being Mr April on the Hot Shadowhunters calendar,” Sabina quickly interjected and she saw his face jump in surprise that she had found that nugget of information.

“That was one time,” he said. “As a favour to Lily...”

“Sure, whatever you say, pretty boy,” she said.

“Oh, don’t start-” Kit said, his face screwing up in a way that made him look younger. “How about you just call me by my name?” he asked, plaintively. “And not Herondale either- as we’ve established, we’re more than just our last names.”

She took a deep breath. “Sure- I can do that,” she said. “Kit.”

And a different smile emerged than the ones she had seen before from him- one that didn’t play to his obvious good looks, or his smooth, charming smiles that she didn’t trust - this one seemed more real.

“So- we’re good?” she asked nervously as they left Evelyn’s office, walking down the open archway where windows to the outside showed water streaming down stained glass.

“I hope so- ‘specially as you now know my intentions regarding this competition” he said. He stopped and turned to her, looking thoughtful. “But… it’s kind of hard to ignore attempted theft.”

The feeling of despair and resignation surged through again, the fragile truce they had created crumbling beneath her. “So… you’re going to tell Evelyn and Roger.”

“No,” he said, after a moment of studying her. “I highly doubt you regularly steal from the Institute- you’re way too nervous to be a regular thief… maybe I’m wrong. But if you need money, or there’s someone you need to pay off, that’s a dangerous position to be in for someone who wants to be Head,” he said. “So, let me help.”

“What? No, absolutely not,” Sabina said immediately. But then she wavered - she knew exactly the point he was making. But it was why she needed to be Head too- if she couldn’t make it on a tutor’s salary… how could she live as a Shadowhunter and still fulfill her mundane family obligations?

“I realise it looks bad,” she admitted. “But… it was for a mundane situation where I just didn’t manage my cash flow as well as I could have. It’s only happened just this once and I don’t intend to let it happen again,” she said.

He was watching her carefully, with a distant look in his eyes she was starting to recognise.

“Okay, fine. Do you swear on the Angel?” he asked suddenly. “On Raziel’s name?”

There was a charged moment where lightning flashed upon his face, lighting it up in a way that made Sabina give a bit more credence to some of the rumours she had heard about Kit Herondale, and what he was capable of. But she wasn’t exactly a pushover either. “Yeah, I do-” she said, lifting her chin. “On his name. So either trust me - or you tell Evelyn.” And with that, she left him and strode quickly down the hall, heart pounding and feeling her cheeks red with mortification.

“Noura?” Kit called cautiously. Witchlight flickered around him, throwing shadows in sharp relief against the crypt walls. He tried to ignore the pricking of skin on the back of his neck as he stepped off the staircase.

Although it wasn’t anything like the Seelie Queen’s dungeon, the still, slightly damp air and cold draft blowing on his face brought up uncomfortable memories he rather preferred to suppress. He concentrated instead on trying to figure out what Sabina’s reasons were for stealing daggers - luckily she had been too busy being horrified at getting caught to ask why he was lurking around Evelyn’s office.

The crypt was a mess of contradictions. Old, faded tapestries hung on the walls, covering shadowy alcoves, while modern countertops that wouldn’t look out of place in a high school lab, sat directly in front of him, with several stacks of test tubes tidied away on free-standing shelves. Close by was a large industrial sink.

In a far corner, Kit could see a hazy light-filled outline of a doorway covered off with hazard tape, and a couple of electronic gadgets which looked disturbingly like bomb detonators attached to them, blinking innocently. It was the permanent door to the Cornwall Institute that Noura had told him she was ‘studying’ and ‘monitoring.’ Overall, the vibe was more mad scientist’s lab than Kit was entirely comfortable with, especially alone, so he called Noura’s name once more into the echoey darkness and after a couple more minutes of no response, he turned to go.

Just before he placed a foot on the first, steep step, he could hear a sound behind him, a light scrape of a shoe on stone and a hand reached out to touch his shoulder. He acted on instinct, grabbing a knife off his forearm sheath, even as he spun around to push the assailant against the wall, blade angled for a killing blow at the base of the neck.

Noura’s eyes were wide and white, like a deer frozen in headlights. Kit withdrew the knife immediately and backed up, staring warily at her.

In contrast, a smile started blooming across her face. “Wow, nice reflexes,” she said. As usual, there were smudges of black across her face, and she was dressed already in patrol gear, her short bob-length hair pinned back behind her ears. He could see several weapons dangling from her belt.

“Yeah, so good I could avoid actually impaling you,” he shot back. “How about you try not sneaking up on me next time? I was calling you- not cool that you didn’t answer.” His nerves were jangling, and he forced himself to take several deep breaths.

Her smile flattened at his last sentence. She tapped a rune on her neck and then again at a different spot, just by her ear. “How about you remember that I can’t hear that well, dude?”

“I uh-” Kit floundered. “Yeah, okay,” he said, fumbling slightly as he put away his dagger. “That was stupid of me, sorry.”

She nudged his shoulder in a friendly manner as they climbed up the steps. “About as stupid as me sneaking up on someone who clearly has PTSD,” she agreed cheerfully, in a sort of apology.

“So… like, all Shadowhunters,” Kit muttered under his breath, where he knew Noura wouldn’t be able to hear him.

At the top of the steps, Kit turned to her, ensuring she could read his lips, remembering the instructions she had given before their first patrol together earlier in the week. “So- same as last time?” he asked and she nodded as they ran through five straightforward hand signals she had taught him.

In the entrance way, they ran through their inventory of weapons, and Kit applied his normal repertoire of Marks, including Talent and Night Vision runes while Noura chose several similar ones. She also drew on her neck an elaborate swooping rune – apparently a special one given as dispensation from the Silent Brothers to aid her deteriorating hearing.

Kit touched her shoulder. “Good to go?” he asked. She gave him a thumbs up and they opened up the heavy Institute doors and headed out into the misty London evening.

Kit looked up at the sky, which had started to clear, the waxing gibbous moon bright on the puddles in front of his path. He was panting a little and beside him, he could see Noura bent over her empty bow, the majestic spectacle of a lit-up Tower Bridge behind her.

He gave her the ‘ok?’ sign and she mirrored it. They both grinned at each other, in the afterglow of a successful skirmish. Between them they had just demolished a pack of Moloch demons, their nest in the underside of the famous bridge. Once they spotted the nest, Noura had pulled out a small, clear baggie of what looked like dull, shiny dust and sprinkled it onto several arrow heads. She had taken aim then at the nearest demon, and as her arrow left her longbow, she whispered Adriel and it took on a blinding seraph light, cleaving the demon in half. Several more napalm-like arrows had followed swiftly.

Kit had pulled out a seraph blade and intercepted the closer demons, dancing ahead of their snapping jaws, protecting while Noura picked off the further ones.

In the aftermath, he took a moment to savour the feeling of a job well done. Despite the physical exertion, he felt a lightness in his body for the first time in a while.

Part of it was the company. Not only this evening but previously Noura had treated him like any visiting Shadowhunter, inviting him down to visit her ‘lab’, and always waving him over to sit with her during lunches (if Sabina wasn’t around). As one of the only other adult Shadowhunters who wasn’t involved in the Institute Head competition and didn’t seem to have any agenda, he was happy to have a potential friend.

Having caught their breath, they both continued their patrol through St Katherine’s docks, padding silently across uneven cobbled roads, old warehouses-turned condos on one side, and a bright, moon-lit marina on the other.

“That was fun,” she commented. “Haven’t killed that many demons since my first year out of the Academy.”

“Really?” Kit raised his eyebrows. He stood from where he was wiping demon ichor off his blade on a low, decorative bush.

“Yeah… I don’t go on many patrols anymore,” she said slowly. “There have been some close calls- and my hearing loss can be a liability, especially as the s-bruvs’ rune fades the longer we’re out.” She stopped, then added: “Sabina only put me back on rota over Evelyn’s protests because of the wraiths.”

Kit absorbed what she said and although it was a different case, he was put into mind the small headphones Ty sometimes wore while fighting. “Evelyn’s an old garbage bag of a human,” he said, empathetically, making sure she could see his face and words, not sure how much her rune picked up. “I’m happy to adapt to whatever you need to do to fight- plus, you have strengths in other ways,” he said, nodding to her arrows and the small bag of adamas dust attached to her belt.

She nodded, smiling slightly. “How do you like London so far?” she asked, as they scaled a low wall.

Kit couldn’t help but let some of his feelings show on his face as he decided how to answer. Noura noticed. “That much, huh?” she said, her laugh echoing down the empty road in front of them. “You shouldn’t pay attention to Sabina and Jacob’s reactions. When they haven’t been snogging, they’ve been elbowing each other out of the way for years to be in the better position for when Evelyn eventually stood aside. You arriving kind of threw that all out. Not that you’ll be chosen anyway as Sabina is clearly the superior choice,” she said, very assured in her pronouncement but grinning as if to take the sting away from her dismissal of him.

“Yeah, I know-” Kit said, mentally filing away the fact about Sabina and Jacob to examine later. He also was incredibly curious to know if Noura knew about Sabina’s trip to Evelyn’s office- and he tried to think of a subtle way to check. But then something struck him.

“What about Roger? Before he got sick, wasn’t he the natural successor to Evelyn?”

Noura immediately looked away, and in the moonlight Kit thought he saw uneasiness on her face.

Instinctively, Kit dug out his phone and thumbed it open to the mysterious text message. He showed it to her and she leaned in to read it, brushing her fingers over the text.

“Noura- something’s wrong at the Institute, isn’t it? I got this message the day I arrived in London…”

Suddenly Noura’s body language changed, and almost a second too late, Kit reacted. She tackled him and they flew to the ground. As his knees met hard cobbles, Kit could see a sickly yellow-grey glow behind him.

He let out a muffled yelp, and both he and Noura scrambled backwards as the wraith rose from its crouched position. It was strange, Kit thought, as he pulled out a seraph blade and a dagger, how ethereal it looked. Mostly it looked like a human-like miasma of yellow-grey fire. For a moment Kit thought the roiling surface cleared so he could see a youthful face. But perhaps it was a trick of the light.

It let out a low keening noise, as if wounded. Suddenly Kit felt an invisible, forceful push and he flew through the air. Thanks to his previous wraith’s experience, he had anticipated it and rolled as he landed, about five feet away. Nearby, he saw Noura’s bow fly out of her hand as she landed hard on her hip.

They looked at each other and while she grimaced, she made the ‘okay’ gesture to him. He returned it but looking across, he could see she was also shaken. But they were also Shadowhunters- and within moments they had started running after the fiery figure now gaining ground away from them.

They lost the wraith after a few blocks but continued their tracking work until almost dawn. Kit’s conversation was forgotten in the immediacy of their work.

As early sun rays started to shine on the wet, slick roads and their movements grew wearier from fatigue, Kit signalled to head back. A few blocks from the Institute, Kit attempted to draw Noura aside. “About earlier-” he said, pointing to his phone.

She made a face and said slightly loudly, pointing to her neck, where the elaborate rune, once black, was now almost a silvery white colour. “I can’t hear much anymore.” But then with a considering look on her face, she pulled out her own phone. Roger isn’t much liked by Evelyn. I don’t know why. And he’s down in the crypts too often for my liking.

He bothers you?

Noura’s eyes narrowed. no he ignores me. which is fine

What does he do down there? Kit typed.

There are several tunnels from the crypt, built during the 2 ww that lead to weapons cache. That’s an entrance there. Noura gestured to a small stone memorial on the corner of the road and Kit looked at it while she typed. It was like any of the other many small stone statues or monuments that were scattered around London, as testament to its long history. He says he’s checking them. but it’s really often

She looked up at him. Carefully, she typed out the last part. I didn’t send that message to you but i think someone else in the institute did. But whoever it is, maybe they can tell u more about what’s wrong. I’ll help where i can.

She shifted her weight, clearly hesitating. But then she put away her phone.

Kit had so many more questions. But he also knew they were both about to collapse from lack of sleep, and he could see she was favouring her left leg, where she had landed when the wraith had thrown here. Let’s chat again about it but don’t tell anyone else yet. Even sabina please

She frowned, then slowly nodded.

Ty was already up, drinking coffee in the kitchen when Kit walked through on his way upstairs, drooping with weariness.

He managed a quick smile but something about his mannerisms must have triggered Ty’s protective intuition, as he rose quickly from his chair, pushing his headphones down. “What happened?”

Kit let his head fall into the familiar groove of Ty’s shoulder as he wrapped himself around his boyfriend. “I’m fine,” he said softly. “Just- a long patrol. And one that included wraiths,” he said. He could feel Ty’s breathing stutter, and he quickly added. “We were surprised by one up close- but it didn’t harm us. But also, we spent almost the whole night trying to track it and failed to find it again.”

“That’s okay,” Ty replied, reassuring pressure from his hands as they moved across Kit’s body, checking for any injuries - a long practiced dance they were both used to. “We’ve had similar patrols.”

Kit stiffened. “What? You’ve come across them again up close?”

Ty drew him back so he could see his face. “It is my job to track them down,” he said, a slightly bewildered look on his face at Kit’s objection.

“Yeah, I know,” Kit said, with a small sigh. “Just- be careful. It gave me the creeps.”

“Likewise,” Ty said. He stepped back. “As one of the lead investigators on the case, I’ll need to get your debrief on your encounter- but…” his eyes were soft as they looked at Kit. “That can wait until you’ve slept.”

Kit didn’t disagree but instead went upstairs, collapsing into bed. Just before he escaped into exhaustion, he realised he also needed to update Ty on the Institute mystery - but all that would wait.

He dreamed of tunnels with echoing footsteps, and a laughing girlish voice calling his name.

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dontmindmyshadowhunting · 1 year

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Barney and Jezebel! Hahaha

I absolutely love the idea of Emma and Julian having twins. :) I missed these two! As well as Ash & Dru, and for the insiders, Ade and Ellie ;)

A great read, as always

Herondales Don't Fail Ch. 3 - Charm Offensive

Ao3 / 1 / 2 / 3

Kit Herondale, Ty Blackthorn (Kit/Ty), original characters, Blackthorn family members, Emma Carstairs, Ash Morgenstern

Wordcount: 7,317 words (this chapter - 🙈 sorry its a long one folx)

Rating: Mature

---

“This stack can go to Christopher,” Roger slid some heavy files across the round table. It was early the next morning and the three candidates and Stormborn had moved into an old drawing room on the second floor of the Institute to start the handing-over process.

“Kit, it’s just Kit,” he said, biting back a yawn. If he was going to do this competition, he was going to do it as much as possible on his own terms. He had already gone to Evelyn’s office first thing that morning, dressed in gear but with his hair braided back and all earrings switched out to studs. He informed her in polite terms he would wear gear during weapons training and patrols but his other clothes were not up for discussion, nor the rest of his look, including his hair. And if she wanted to make a bigger deal of it, they could send a note to the Consul asking if there was actually an official dress code for Shadowhunters.

Kit had suppressed a grin as he watched Evelyn try to think of a response… but in the end she had just waved him out.

If she wanted to make something of his name, he could play that game too- reminding her of his own ties to powerful members of Shadowhunter society. But he had stayed deferential otherwise - he and Ty had discussed long into the night what kind of approach would be best when it came to investigating the Institute. Ty had thought he should play it relatively straight - as he pointed out, Evelyn already had doubts due to Kit’s background and if she wrote him off, that could allow him relatively free rein to investigate. But Kit wasn’t so sure that would fly… so he had adjusted.

Roger paused and corrected himself. “Kit. You can take over correspondence with the Americas Institutes, given you already have ties there.”

“Maybe he should cover a different region. If he’s already familiar with the Heads of US Institutes - it would be good to get different perspectives on Shadowhunter life,” Jacob said, as Kit reached across the table.

“Excellent idea,” Sabina cut in smoothly. “I think it would be good for all three of us to have different regions than we’re used to. In which case, I’ll take Europe and Africa, Dearborn,” she said, nodding at the stack in front of Jacob.

Jacob reluctantly held up his hands on the folders and Sabina tugged them towards her.

There was clearly no love lost between the other two London Shadowhunters, Kit noted, although he also noticed that Jacob’s gaze lingered on Sabina while she studiously avoided his gaze.

Kit didn’t care what region he’d be responsible for in terms of intra-Institute communication - perhaps it would’ve been easier to send Jace updates on official business but also- potentially awkward if it had been intercepted, given the vernacular he and Jace typically used on their correspondence. “Give me whatever region,” Kit said, making sure to inject a bored note into his voice. This was his other plan- as the son of Johnny Rook, who had often played a similar role- he knew an underwhelming presence could lull others into a false sense of security.

Stormborn watched the scene unfold as they all awkwardly swapped around the notes and then he cleared his throat. “I think perhaps we should lay down some general expectations around this competition and your roles,” he said. Sabina and Jacob’s attention snapped to him at the sharper tone entering his voice. “You all have expertise that Evelyn has deemed worthy enough to be considered to lead this Institute. You can prove it by demonstrating said expertise to us in practice, not squabbling like children or by thinking that up-one-manships will do you any good,” he said.

He looked like someone’s affable uncle, Kit thought, with his receding hairline, weak chin and a mouth that looked like it smiled way more than it frowned. But there was also something hiding behind his eyes, and Kit figured one didn’t get to be acting head of the London Institute without a mind for strategy.

Kit bit his lip to hide his amusement. He leant back in his chair as he listened to Roger outline the division of responsibilities for the next few months. Sabina would continue as Institute tutor, but Kit would cover training three mornings of the week, with Jacob taking over the Saturday morning slot. Jacob would scale back on his archivist responsibilities and Kit would take point on Downworld requests, (he winced internally at this, given his and Ty’s off-duty mission the previous evening), while informing the others on any joint missions. And they would all take turns shadowing the daily routines of the Institute, including paperwork. Kit made sure to let out an audible groan at that, which wasn’t just an act. He hated paperwork- having had a taste of it earlier in the summer- when Helen had decided that he could earn some of his keep at the L.A. Institute by helping clear some of her backlog.

Intriguingly, they would rotate ownership of leading external patrols or additional missions associated with the wraith investigation, as directed by the Centurions. Kit wondered if Ty and the other Centurions had already been made aware of this plan.

“What about budgeting and the running of the Institute in terms of costs and how it’s all paid for?” Kit asked near the end of the spiel, watching Roger closely. He didn’t want to lay all his cards on the table with the tithe issue- but leading yet perfectly reasonable questions, that was someplace he could start.

It was the slightest tell and Kit almost wasn’t sure if it had been there but while Roger’s face didn’t betray anything, his hands twitched and he put down his pen to quell them. “That’s mostly under Evelyn’s watch,” he told Kit calmly. “You’ll learn about that side of running the Institute from her, in due course.”

“Of course,” Kit gave him a sunny smile and prepared to settle in for Roger’s tutorial on appropriate intra-Institute communication. But he also stole a covert glance at Sabina, who had responded much more strongly to his question than he expected.

“Sabina-,” Kit hurried after her as she strode down the hallway towards the stairs to the Institute’s training room. “Can I get some time with you later this afternoon?”

She turned, folding her arms. “Pardon?” she asked, impatiently.

“The other Shadowhunters here- I’d like to know your view on how their training has been going,” Kit said. “You know, if I’m supposed to be taking over some of your shifts- I’d like to know what I’m walking into.”

She gave him a long, appraising look. “I’m about to do a warm-up before I head down to teach tumbling to the younger ones in the ballroom,” she said. “Can you chat and fight at the same time?”

“Even better, I can quip while I fight,” Kit told her, turning on the charm. While he wanted Evelyn and Roger to think him young and slightly feckless and not suitable for running an Institute, he planned a different strategy with his two competitors.

She shook her head slightly, unimpressed.

“So, you know how the evacuation of Idris went really quickly after the Cohort took over in 2012?” Sabina asked, as they squared off with some training sabres and went through basic drills.

“Well aware,” Kit said. He corrected himself. “Or- I was kinda in hiding at that point. But aware of the general facts.”

“A lot of them came to London and settled into the Enclave,” Sabina told him. “We had a big influx in the city for a while.”

“But?” Kit asked, as he parried an easy blow from her.

Sabina frowned slightly. “But it’s been hard to maintain manpower- and with Idris restored, over the past four years it’s been a struggle to keep the full numbers that we really need to patrol adequately.”

“The Dark War still has a lot to answer for,” Kit guessed. They finished the first set of drills and Kit drew back, waiting for her next move.

Sabina spun lazily and aimed low towards his feet. Kit knelt to block her, and pressed upwards, forcing her back. He didn’t try any fancy moves this time, more focused on the conversation.

She took a moment to respond, her eyes darting back and forth over his body, mirroring Kit. Both looking for weaknesses. “People leave- it’s an expensive city to live in and Institute life isn’t exactly great for young families. And once Idris re-opened- even in its current state, most went back if they came from there. So… we tend to get people who stay a couple years, then leave for a quieter, less eventful life. Demon attacks are more frequent here, despite the supposed decline and we have our share of Downworlder issues.”

“All big cities do,” Kit pointed out. Sabina narrowed her eyes at him but didn’t comment. “You haven’t mentioned the quality of fighting ability here at the Institute,” Kit said, going back to the original topic at hand. He adjusted his grip, following her form as they returned to some basic blocks.

She pursed her lips. “Most are adequate,” she said. Then, reconsidering, she added: “We lose more than we should- on patrol. Our casualty numbers have been high- not always fatal but higher injuries. I don’t know if it’s the quality of candidates or the-” she faltered. “Or the training. “I’ve increased required attendance sessions because of it,” she said shortly, slightly defensive. “Gone back to basics with most Enclave members.”

She met his eyes. “So,” she said. “I’d start there.” She stepped back as the last basic defense drills were completed. “I’m not going to do your work for you though- you want to be Head, you can make your own assessment,” she said, her voice chilly. She set down her sabre. “I’ll need to go down now,” she said.

Kit nodded his head at her. “Tithe time,” he said, almost under his breath, watching her carefully. She looked back at him confusedly, and Kit stifled a sigh. Whatever Sabina had reacted to in his questions around budgets earlier, it didn’t appear she knew about the tithe issue. But he did add her to the list of potential ominous text message-senders, given what she had just told him.

“Sure,” she said, giving him a tight smile. “See you around, Herondale.”

But she also seemed to dislike him- or at least, resent him for coming in and taking one of the competition spots. Not that he could blame her. So would she have tipped him off?

He debated telling her his deep reluctance to even be taking part in the competition. But he knew it wasn’t the right time- not until he knew more about the Institute and its inhabitants to rule her out as being part of the problem.

When he wasn’t shadowing, training, patrolling or getting his head around paperwork, Kit spent his limited free time the next few days reacquainting himself with the Institute. Despite his occasional visits to London in recent years, he hadn’t spent any time at the Institute properly since his first time with the Blackthorns - mainly because during his last extended time in the city he had been a wanted fugitive. He had been wary in the years afterwards, still preferring to stay with his parents in Devon when he visited the UK, or more recently, at the townhouse.

The London Institute remained as awe-inspiring as ever, its sparse Gothic beauty evident in the echoing halls, beautifully carved lintels and stone-tiled floors. But Kit could also see evidence of wear and tear he hadn’t remembered from before, like cracks in the intricate window panes, moth-eaten tapestries and broken door handles. He remembered Tessa had told him the London Institute had been the wealthiest and largest Institute and Enclave in her and Will’s day. Evidence pointed to that not being the case anymore…

And as Sabina had indicated, the London Enclave was still understaffed, with seven full-time Shadowhunters living at the Institute and a further three families who lived outside, alongside the Centurion office in the city, which helped to bolster patrol numbers. He had meant to ask Evelyn about the Institute’s finances but each time she had stuffed their meetings full to the brim with protocol and instructions, and with the other two candidates around, Kit didn’t want to tip them off yet.

It was quiet in another way too, in a way that had him feeling increasingly uneasy. He hadn’t seen any ghosts - or one ghost in particular - and he had been looking for her, given she might have some of the answers he was seeking.

“Jessamine?” he finally resorted to calling out cautiously, in several rooms. Unfortunately, that strategy backfired.

“Are you trying to talk to the local Institute ghost?” an amused Scottish voice came from the high-backed armchair by the fireplace. Kit rocked back on his heels as Jacob rose, his finger in a thick tome.

“I had heard the Herondale family had a talent for ghost-whispering,” he said, a small smile playing on his face.

“It’s true,” Kit said reluctantly. He didn’t volunteer more information even though he knew he should be friendlier with Jacob, make him trust Kit.

But he was still making up his mind on Jacob Dearborn. On one hand, despite Roger’s lecture, Kit suspected Jacob of still trying to sabotage him in smaller, subtler ways. A fire message sent by Jacob for a summons with Evelyn had arrived five minutes after the meeting was supposed to begin. His temporary room (which he was mainly using to store his gear and weapons), assigned by Jacob, was in the furthest reaches of the Institute’s maze of hallways, meaning he always seemed to miss the first few minutes of training sessions. And when he had asked for any notes on Downworlders in London, given his new role, Jacob had simply evaded. Kit was left trying to piece together a picture of the London Downworld through dusty filing cabinets and yellowing pages of handwritten notes, ahead of his planned meetings the following week.

On the other hand - and perhaps this was because Kit had other Dearborn interactions to compare with - Jacob didn’t seem to share the abhorrent views expressed by others of his family, as far as Kit had noticed. A low bar, sure- but Jacob did at least clear it.

“Hmm?” Kit realised Jacob had said something else to him.

“Are you trying to contact the Institute ghost, Jessamine Lovelace?” Jacob had come around to stand in front of him, looking down his long, aquiline nose.

“That’s right- have you seen or spoken with her recently?” Given his archivist position, Kit wasn’t surprised Jacob knew about Jessamine.

“No,” Jacob admitted, surprisingly glum in his manner. “She is surprisingly skittish- but even more so recently. I thought I had been making headway- we had an old chalkboard and she had been communicating through that, confirming facts I’ve found in the archives. But she’s stopped responding in recent months.”

“How long ago?” Kit asked, intrigued. “Have you tried setting it up in different places?” He remembered a long ago night spent on the steps of the Institute and Jessamine’s surprisingly good company.

“Of course!” Jacob seemed personally affronted by the question. “This isn’t my first time communing with undead spirits.”

Kit hid his amusement. “No, of course,” he said gravely. “It’s just that I wonder if she’s passed on?”

“I hope not,” Jacob said, and then hastily added. “Not that she canna… but last time we spoke she was in the middle of confirming the guest list for the annual Christmas party for the prewar years and seemed very keen on it. I think that was about- five months ago? Four months perhaps…” He eyed Kit and for once didn’t seem to be considering him as a rival. “If you see her, could you tell her I’m willing to go and purchase more of those American Girl dolls for her?”

“Because buying creepy dolls for ghosts is always the best plan…” Kit retorted but he revised it when Jacob looked confused at his initial sarcastic answer. “Uh huh, sure- no problem,” he answered. He started to back up slowly, out of the drawing room. “Anyway, given I can’t find her- I’m going to head to the library to research instead.”

“Understandable- we have the best library in Europe, including many rare and unique primary sources. What were you hoping to learn more about?” Jacob said, a touch pompously. But having seen the library - Kit could forgive him a little for that.

This was the first time Jacob had spoken more than a few polite words to him and opened up and Kit decided to press his advantage for more information. “Faerie lore,” he said casually. “Recent interactions with the Institute… and any faerie traditions associated with it- geas, tithes, you know that lot. Particularly if I’m going to reach out to the Courts and free Fae of London and represent the Institute.”

Jacob looked disconcerted. “I would’ve thought with your heritage, you’d be better versed in that than most Shadowhunters,” he said, his voice slightly stiff. Kit couldn’t tell if the look on Jacob’s handsome face meant he knew about the tithe or not.

“I only know one side-” Kit said, watching him carefully. “I’d like to understand the Nephilim view- and I thought Jessamine might be helpful, if she’s seen Fae representatives visit over the years.”

Jacob drew himself up. “I could help with that-” he said, not meeting Kit’s eyes. “Given our schedules and the size of the library, it would take you a while to find anything useful. I can weed out the unimportant chaff.”

Kit smiled. “That would be incredibly helpful- thanks Jacob.” And if it ended up being completely irrelevant information- that might also tell him something… like Jacob trying to throw him off onto the wrong trail, he thought.

“Mm,” Jacob said noncommittally. “And in return- if you do see Jessamine - or any local ghosts- I’d like to attend any conversations you have with them. You could be an incredible resource to my research.”

“It’s a deal,” Kit said immediately.

He resisted the urge to whistle as he walked down the hall after exiting. Another lead out- and depending on what Jacob turned up, it could help him figure out if Maryam’s comments were related to the rot within the Institute.

Kit could feel his chest heaving as he dodged another slow-moving tourist group. Ahead of him, Ade spared a quick glance back but didn’t slow his pace, his legs pumping effortlessly. Kit looked up as the shadow of the giant ferris wheel came into view on the river bank, thanking whatever deity was listening that their run was nearing its end.

Their route was around five miles but Ade had set a punishing pace from the start. Beginning at his flat just behind Whitechapel station, they ran along narrow graffitied streets around Aldgate, down modern roads buttressing remains of Roman walls, across Tower Bridge, to the bustling market areas around London Bridge and Southwark and to the increasingly tourist-crowded Southbank. Finally they rounded the curve of the Thames by the London Eye, directly across the river from Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament.

Kit wasn’t sure if the unreasonable speed was retribution from his and Ty’s vampire intervention or just Ade running to get his frustrations out. Kit was paranoid it was the former. Ade had been short when Kit had met up with him outside his flat’s door, muttering about a rough couple of shifts, and shaking his head when Kit asked if he wanted to talk about it. They had stretched in silence before setting off.

Kit could also feel some tendrils of guilt continue sitting uncomfortably in his stomach, and he resolved to talk about the situation with Ade. He’d been so busy at the Institute he hadn’t had time to do more than arrange to meet up with his friend on the weekend, picking up their college habit of going on runs together, before they planned to meet up with their other friend Ellie for lunch. Ty was already at Blackthorn Hall for the day, with Kit joining him and the rest of the Blackthorns later on.

Ade finally started to slow in the park just behind the Eye. He threw himself down onto a grassy knoll. Kit jogged up, sweat streaming down his neck. He gestured the universal sign of ‘water’ to Ade, who nodded as he took out his earbuds. “You want something to eat too?” Kit asked, remembering their years in Devon when they used to go and gorge themselves at the local Wetherspoons after runs. He pointed to a nearby ice cream van.

Ade shook his head, sweat flying off. “Nah, bruv- can’t handle the sweet shit after a run. Literally,” he said, a brief grin emerging. He nodded towards a taco van parked beside it. “But get me some of those pork tacos and it’ll be grand.”

When Kit returned, he could see Ade staring intently at his phone. “All good?” he asked, and Ade shut it off quickly. “Yeah, yeah.” he said, the faint frown disappearing.

Kit sat down across from his friend, breathing in the muggy air. It was set to be another scorcher of a late summer day and even mid-morning, he could feel the humidity rising. “I don’t remember London being this hot,” he complained, pulling at his damp t-shirt.

“Global warming, innit,” Ade said, shrugging.

They ate their food in silence until Kit couldn’t stand it anymore. “Look- about Wednesday night. I’m sorry, man. I know Ty and I didn’t handle it the right way.”

Ade stared straight ahead, intently chewing. He took a moment before he answered. “No, you didn’t,” he said quietly. “Why not just tell me, instead of ambushing me and Maryam?”

Kit took a moment to answer. “I guess we could have. But you have to understand- Maryam might be okay… but not all vampires are. And you had magic around you that’s often used to keep mundanes docile and forgetful. Apparently she did it to try and protect you… but if she had had ill intentions, it was better to catch it in action.”

“Okay but… you both knew about the magic from when? When you met me the night Ty got hurt?” Ade demanded. He shook his head.

Kit shifted uncomfortably. “The morning after- Ty spotted it,” he confessed. “But we didn’t want to freak you out.”

Ade scrunched up his face. “That’s messed up, mate, you get that right? I should have a right to know if I’m being fucked up by magic.”

“Yeah. Sorry-”

But Ade wasn’t finished. He turned to look at Kit. “But you know what’s even more messed up- is how you treated Maryam,” he said firmly. “You need to apologise to her.”

Kit immediately opened his mouth to protest and he shut it again at the hard, closed off look on Ade’s face. He thought back to that evening. “Yeah, I suppose we went in too hard.”

“You went in like coppers- you know, assuming the worst of her.”

“I know, I know. The thing is�� we kind of are,” Kit said slowly, feeling guilty. He remembered his initial revulsion around being told he was a Shadowhunter; he had grown up in the Market where it was anathema to have anything to do with them. When had the lines gotten so blurred for him that he didn’t immediately remember those facts?

“Shadowhunters have a policing role in what we do. More so in Ty’s role but I have to do it too sometimes.” But then he thought about the times he had seen Lily or Maia or Mark march into Clary and Jace’s office in New York and the joint missions that had been run with the Council. And how in contrast he hadn’t yet met any non-Shadowhunters in London so far at the Institute, other than at the initial wraith briefing. His meetings in the upcoming weeks with London’s Downworld might be more challenging than he originally anticipated, he realised.

“I thought you were like- demon hunters,” Ade asked, with a slightly confused look. “You know, with your cool lightsaber swords and all that.” He waved his arm in demonstration. “Hold on- are demons also misunderstood? Thought you said they’re evil?”

“Demons are evil - pretty much solely concentrated on eating your face or demanding your soul for eternity,” Kit reassured him. “But Downworlders- vampires, werewolves, warlocks, faeries etc. aren’t as easy to classify into all good or bad, no matter how much some Shadowhunters want that distinction. But uh- It’s kinda what Nephilim were created to be. The protectors of humans- mundanes- from any evil creatures that go bump in the night. Not that we’re all good either.”

He sighed. “Believe me, when I found out I was one, after growing up thinking I just had the Sight, I also thought the worst- thought they threw their weight around and were bullies. But as I got to know them, it became more nuanced than that.” Kit cut off his rambling, looking over to his friend.

“Hmm,” Ade made a non-commital noise.

Kit ducked his head, knowing how it sounded. He thought about the mundane news that he made a point of trying to keep up with regularly. “Look, I do get where you’re coming from. I’ll make it right with Maryam- apologise to her. I promise.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ade nod, but he didn’t say anything.

Kit worried a patch of grass near his sneaker as the silence between them stretched out. “Are we- are we okay, man?”

Ade took a long sip of his water. He nudged Kit with his foot. “You mean- am I calling you out. ACAB shit and refusing to have anything to do with you going forward?”

Kit squirmed at Ade’s accurate insight into his state of mind. He nodded, without saying anything further.

Ade sighed. “We’ve been friends for what- seven years now? I know you as Kit. Not as Shadowhunter recruit number seventeen or whatever.” He crumpled the rest of his food wrapper and tossed it like a basketball into a nearby bin. “Look- I have no problem calling you out if it’s needed, if I see you being a bigoted piece of shit, yeah? But let’s not make it more complicated than that right now. All right?”

“Totally fair.” Kit nodded, feeling relieved. “What about Ty?”

Ade huffed. “Same deal, okay? Also you’re not getting rid of me- nah, it’s not that easy. Especially as I’m apparently about to see more weird shit, thanks to my friendship with you,” he said, a wry look crossing his face.

“I am also sorry about that-” Kit groaned. “I never thought-”

Ade shoved him playfully. “Okay okay, even I’m getting bored now with the apologies and self-recrimination,” he said. “At least now I’ll be able to see those invisible things you and Ellie were always talking about…”

“Ellie is going to have opinions, for sure,” Kit said, beginning to smile.

“When does she not?” Ade laughed.

“I am so sorry-” Ellie covered her mouth. “I know I shouldn’t laugh but oh my god. Ade Olawale, the most down to earth, unruffled-” she cackled. “You’re about to get a rude awakening, if you haven’t already.”

Ade’s eyes widened across the small booth they had squeezed into, in an equally tiny Thai restaurant tucked behind Waterloo Station.

Kit tried to manage expectations. “I mean- it’s not going to be as bad as that...”

“True,” Ellie said, wiping her eyes. “I’m exaggerating- gotta love the drama. And you’re at least aware of what’s happening- for me, I just thought I had a really good imagination as a kid. ‘Though I did worry I was going crazy when I started seeing more and more glimpses of the Shadow World. Not helped by someone initially telling me I was imagining stuff…” She reached over to poke at Kit in the chest, exasperatedly.

Kit held his hands up in a mea culpa signal. “I was just trying to protect you both, remember?” They all fell silent as they remembered the last few incidents before Kit disappeared from Devon, driven away by the danger around him being the First Heir.

Ade broke the silence. “Well- we’re all in the club now, so initiate me,” he said.

Kit remembered the stories Simon had told him about recruitment of mundane Sighted teens, and his own experiences growing up in L.A. He outlined some quick pointers. “So… once you know not to eat or drink Faerie food, and you stay clear of spells- you just get used to just accepting that yeah- the local dude running the corner shop late shift is a ghoul, or those local bikers are actually werewolves…” Kit trailed off. He didn’t want to freak his friend out too much and he figured Ade’s practical nature would keep him away from the darker areas of the Shadow World.

A visibly worried Ade frowned. “Right. And will they notice me more now?”

“No. Unless you stick your nose into their business. Just ignore it and walk on if you spot something weird and you’ll be fine,” Ellie replied, almost dismissively.

“Is that what you’re doing now, Ellie?” Kit asked, curious. Ellie had left the Shadowhunter Academy a few months before her Ascension ceremony, after her mum had been diagnosed with cancer. But that had been a few years ago- her mum had died since, and Ellie was back attending a mundane university in north London. “I know it must be hard- having been part of the Shadow World for a few years and then going back to mundane life.” He had tried it for a while himself, post-saving the world. And realised that for better or worse- his life was intertwined with Shadowhunters and the Downworld.

Ellie gave him an arch look, beneath her smudged black eyeliner. “Oh don’t give me that,” she said, almost peevishly. “I’ve coped. But if you want to know- I’ve left it all behind. I’m on my uni course and if I see any strange Downworld things, I just pretend I don’t.”

“Doesn’t exactly sound the healthiest,” Ade muttered. Kit was inclined to agree. But Ellie had a look of mulish disagreement that Kit didn’t want to say much more. He tried to be diplomatic.

“Okay but If you ever want to like- visit a Shadow Market or something, for old times sake, Ty and I would be happy to meet up with you there,” Kit told her, trying to bridge whatever gap was making her cold with him. He wasn’t sure what he’d done- they’d been fine when they had met up to go clubbing earlier in the week.

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Oh so magnanimous,” she said. “I might not have gone all the way into becoming a Shadowhunter but I don’t need you baby-sitting me.”

Kit felt stung by Ellie’s response. “That’s not what I meant, El.”

“You can protect me,” Ade said, sensing the tension between Ellie and Kit. He grinned. “Despite Kit’s pointers, I still have practically no idea how this works- you can be my guide.”

“Me as well as this mysterious vampire-” Ellie said, brightening up. A brief look crossed her face that Kit wasn’t sure about, but she appeared to be allowing herself to be distracted. “Vampires are also soooo on trend,” she wiggled her eyebrows beneath her mauve fringe. “Not surprised that’s what dragged you fully into the Shadow World.” She looked mischievous. “If you need it, we got the ‘safe blood-donation’ talk from Luke at the Academy- I might have my notes around somewhere to share.”

Ade rubbed the back of his head, slightly embarrassed. “We’re just friends,” he said. But he allowed himself to be pulled into describing Maryam, as Ellie dragged the details out of him, while Kit relaxed in the corner of the booth. He and Ellie answered Ade’s remaining questions and he was feeling better about the whole affair by the time they finished their meal.

As they were leaving Ellie pulled him aside. “Sorry for being snippy back there,” she said, her blue eyes bright in the sunshine. “But rather than me rehashing old haunts- how about you and Ty come a bit further into the mundane? Come to dinner at my house, and you can meet Ollie.”

Wanting to get back into Ellie’s good graces and also being curious about her new boyfriend- who she had said very little about so far, Kit quickly agreed.

“DIE, demon spawn,” Dru hissed across the board, throwing down her hand of cards.

Ash raised one white-blond eyebrow. “Ouch, my petal of loveliness,” he said mildly.

“Bit on the nose for Ash in terms of insults, isn’t it Dru?” Kit said, grinning. Dru stuck her tongue out at him.

Passing by with another huge carton of maple syrup, Julian peered down. “Game heating up?” he asked with interest.

“He sent the robber around to steal the wheat,” Ty informed him, shuffling a couple of cards in his hand as he spoke. “Thereby denying Dru what she needed to build her longest road.” Even as he spoke, Ty’s eyes were focused on the board, shifting around constantly.

Hearing the explanation, Emma shook her head from her perch at the long birch island in the centre of the room. “I’m so glad I didn’t agree to play. You all are vicious.”

“Settlers is a great game- we’ll get you involved next time, Em,,” Dru said loftily even as she threw another filthy glance at Ash. “Should’ve left you to rot in that troll’s cage when I first found you in Faerie.”

“Love you too, my knight,” Ash replied with a smile, reaching out to grab her hand and kiss the back of it. Dru finally cracked, smiling but still shaking her head.

“Food will be ready in ten,” Julian told them, the smell of bacon and pancakes permeating in the air of Blackthorn Hall’s massive kitchen.

Kit’s stomach was rumbling, and he played the last few minutes of the game half-heartedly. Ty won handily with Dru coming in second.

Outside, it was rapidly getting dark, late on the Friday evening as they sat down to food and there was little chat while they ate. It was a smaller group than typical at Blackthorn Hall but as it was Tavvy’s week back at school, he, Aline and Helen hadn’t made the journey out to London. And Mark and Cristina and Kieran were all settled into their New York loft, nesting with their newborn baby, Malena, born only a few weeks before.

“Oof, I can’t fit any more in,” Emma said finally, pushing back her plate. She poked her belly, which protruded heavily over her skinny jeans. “Barney and Jezebel appreciated it though.”

Julian winced. “I swear you’re coming up with even worse name combos the closer we get,” he said, half-resignedly, half amused.

“You guys still planning to stay in Idris for the birth?” Dru asked.

“I know some crackin’ faerie midwives,” Ash mentioned. “I was apparently a terrible birth for my mom but they helped a lot with it. If you want, I can make the introduction.”

“Er- as much as I appreciate the offer-we’ll either be here or Idris,” Emma said diplomatically, and Kit wondered if she was amused or horrified at being recommended the same birth plan as the Seelie Queen.

He noticed Ty’s unhappy look at the chat and Kit reached out underneath the table, letting his hand rest gently on Ty’s knee, stroking. Ty’s hand came to rest on top, and he gave a quick grateful glance to Kit. He knew Ty didn’t want to talk about it but the fact that Emma was expecting twins brought up tough memories around Livvy.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kit could see Julian watching them, also in tune with the mood of all his family members and he steered the conversation away to a different topic- letting Emma talk about her work with the new Academy curriculum. Then Dru updated them on her latest quests in Faerie, in contrast to Ash, who was charming but as ever, his flowery language told them limited information as to what was happening in Faerie, and its rebuilding.

Finally they came around to Kit and Ty’s first week in London and between them, they gave a quick summary of what had occurred.

There was silence as the table digested the news about the apparent issues at the London Institute.

“Just my luck, getting a dud Institute,” Kit laughed nervously, watching Julian’s reaction. “And before you ask- no, I don’t want to be Head, and it’s likely they just invited me to join because of tradition.”

Julian didn’t reply for a few long seconds, his green-blue eyes dark in the kitchen’s shadowy, homely lighting. Kit snuck a glance over to Ty.

Ty cleared his throat. “We’re looking into it, Jules.” It wasn’t phrased as a question and Ty seemed unshakeable in his belief that they could handle it themselves, as if announcing it to the Inquisitor - albeit also his brother - was a fait accompli. “But do you have any advice while we do so?”

Julian let out a long sigh. “I am assuming you’re basically asking permission to conduct this investigation?” he asked.

“We can… hand it over to your office instead?” Kit offered carefully.

Julian shook his head, and he gave a rueful look over to Ty. “No- and I’m sure as Ty already knows, we don’t have the resources to deal with it, given what we’re currently dealing with...” He didn’t elaborate.

Ty shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. “So let us handle it.”

“You mean Kit will handle it. You already have a lot on your plate with the wraiths,” Julian said sharply, and Emma looked up at his tone, her brown eyes worried. “I’ve read the reports.” And Kit wondered at Julian’s reach as Inquisitor and whether he had somehow found out about Ty’s injuries and his and Kit’s late night dash to a mundane hospital to deal with them.

“There’s a whole team of Centurions with me on the case,” Ty reassured him. “And yes- Kit’s taking the lead with any Institute issue but I’ll be there to assist him.”

“Kit can handle a 90 year old woman and a sick man,” Ash said, supportively.

Dru frowned. “That’s awfully dismissive,” she told him.

“It wasn’t meant to be,” Ash said, looking confused. “Elderly women are some of the wiliest adversaries and those who are ill often have nothing to lose…” Not for the first time, despite them being the same age, Kit was reminded of the wide chasm of his and his cousin’s experiences. But then he remembered his history with Mother Hawthorn, not to mention his recent interactions with Evelyn and he was inclined to agree with Ash’s assessment.

“We don’t know for sure it’s coming from Evelyn and Roger or whether it’s elsewhere in the Institute,” Kit replied.

Julian looked over at Kit. “Whoever or whatever it is- find the evidence of corruption or misconduct and send it to my office. And then wait for instruction,” he told Kit. “Don’t put yourself in danger.”

Kit nodded, feeling relieved. So, officially slash unofficially, they had the support of the Clave, if they needed it.

Later on, as the Blackthorn siblings and Emma settled down to competitively watch the Great British Bake-off, Kit drew Ash aside and asked about tithes and a possible connection to the Institute. “No Seelie or Unseelie Court member would pay a tithe out to a Nephilim Institute,” Ash told him. “Not since the Cold Peace ended.” His green eyes were shrewd as he looked Kit up and down. “But I don’t know about the Free Folk- you’ve always had more connections there.”

Kit sighed. “Mostly in New York and L.A.,” he said. “I have to make a trip to the London Shadow Market this week to see if I can find some similar connections.”

“You will, brother,” Ash said. He looked down at Kit’s hand, the voyance rune gleaming blackly against Kit’s pale skin. Ash smiled and held out his own, similar-inked hand - the only permanent Shadowhunter rune he wore - and turned it palm upwards.

His body language indicated he was waiting for Kit. “I haven’t practiced,” Kit warned even as he mirrored Ash’s position.

“I don’t care,” Ash told him, some of the authority of the Seelie realm seeping through in his voice. A tendril of greenish-white light floated up from the centre, and tentatively moved towards his own open palm.

Kit grit his teeth, letting the light caress up and around the lines of his hand and he took a deep breath, attempting to wake up a long dormant - and potentially dead power. Slowly, Kit could feel something float up from deep within and trickle down his arm. He willed it to manifest.

For the briefest moment, he thought he saw a flash of golden light dancing with Ash’s own magic and then it faded and the other faerie magic was too much, burning Kit in its intensity.

He withdrew his hand with a hiss, watching as the skin blistered.

Across the room, he saw Ty look up suddenly from his conversation with Dru and Kit hid his hand. Ash looked stricken, and a stele appeared in his hand. “It’s improving,” he said, covering Kit from view even as he swiftly drew an iratze on Kit’s forearm.

“Maybe,” Kit felt exhausted, as if he had gone for a ten mile run, or just come in from a long night patrol. “I’ll keep trying.”

“We should do more next time you’re in Faerie,” Ash said, his face contemplative. “I think we’re close.” As always, there was a faint note of guilt in his words as he attempted to help Kit regain his Fae power.

Kit nodded and pushed past him without response, going to join Ty on the sofa.

“What were you and Ash talking about?” Ty asked quietly, as Emma and Dru shouted and Julian leaned forward anxiously over some kind of 3D cookie tower being constructed on the TV.

“Tithe business,” Kit told him, reaching out to twine his hands in Ty’s, ensuring his newly drawn iratze was covered by his sleeve. “He doesn’t think that it’s connected to Seelie or Unseelie Courts.” He didn’t mention the aborted magic attempt- it was something that he and Ash had only just started the last time Kit was in Faerie. He didn’t want Ty to worry about something that was likely to be a dead end- especially given everything else on their plate at the moment.

If - and it was a big if, he managed to jumpstart his magic again, then he’d let Ty know, Kit figured.

Ty was watching him, his mouth pursed slightly and Kit wondered if he’d seen the magic attempt- and he opened his mouth, about to explain when Ty suddenly looked past him. “That doesn’t even look like Big Ben,” he complained, and Kit looked over to see more cookie sculptures on screen. “No, but I’d still eat it,” Kit said. Emma heard and grinned at him.

Ty smiled too. As the credits rolled, he turned his attention back to business. “It’s okay that it’s a dead end with Ash,” he said, his grey eyes serious. “The interviews we conduct this week with key Downworld contacts might shed light on it instead.”

Kit nodded. “Yeah.. about that,” he said. “I have a feeling it might be more challenging than we think…”

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dontmindmyshadowhunting · 1 year

Text

Herondales Don't Fail: Ch. 2 - Interview with a Vampire

Ao3 / 1 / 2

Kit Herondale, Ty Blackthorn (Kit/Ty), original characters

Wordcount: 5,281 words (this chapter)

Rating: Mature

Sabina watched as the rest of the Shadowhunters filed into the Sanctuary. They filled one side of it, while the few Downworld representatives filled the other side.

She frowned as she counted - fewer attending than last time they had called a Downworlder-Shadowhunter meeting. She couldn’t see any of the vampire heads, and only one of the two werewolf alphas - the Hampstead Heath alpha was missing. As was the Shadow Market warlock representative, Hypatia Vex. No Seelie or Unseelie folk but that was less of a surprise, given the near-devastation of Faerie they were still rebuilding from- fewer of them ventured from their lands these days. But still these wraith sightings were a matter of importance. She made a note to check with Roger after the meeting to find out why so few had accepted the Institute’s invite.

Noura nudged her. “What are you looking so worried about?” she signed.

“Nothing,” Sabina told her, settling back into the cold marble of the pew. A few rows ahead, she spotted Jacob chatting with one of the local warlocks, gesturing excitedly. She vaguely remembered him telling her he was arranging interviews with all the elder warlocks in the city, to crosscheck certain aspects of the Institute’s archives. Maybe he’d also know why so few Downworlders chose to attend.

Slightly to the left, she could see Herondale sitting slumped, looking vaguely discontent. He had seemed to have been knocked off-kilter by his inclusion in Evelyn’s competition, almost as if he hadn’t been expecting it. Which she found hard to believe. But Kit straightened up as one of the Centurions - a dark-haired, tall younger man with striking features - strode purposely down towards the centre of the dais. Sabina knew most of the European office’s Centurions- Marcus Pangborn was already there, preparing the Institute’s ancient projector, but she didn’t recognise this Centurion. He handed Pangborn some papers, before falling back in line behind him.

“Good afternoon,” Marcus had drawn on an amplify rune, and his voice echoed in the large Sanctuary. “Thank you all for joining us today - and let us begin this briefing.”

He took them through the basics of what they already knew about the wraiths. Appearing three months ago, they had been spotted mainly on patrols covering London’s East End and the City- including one less than a block away from the London Institute. Beside her, Sabina saw Noura suddenly shiver, as if someone had walked over her grave. Sabina gave her a concerned look - Noura didn’t often join active patrols, and she didn’t think her sister had seen a wraith up close yet - but Sabina held out a quick handclasp for comfort, as they studied the projections of blurred yellow-grey figures together.

It was hard to get an accurate count, Marcus said, but their best intel was there were at least five of the creatures. The origin of what they were currently calling ‘wraiths’ was also unknown - various Centurions had attempted to communicate with them, with no success so far. While initially the wraiths had fled on approach, others stood their ground and one had attacked Centurion Blackthorn - the new Centurion beside Marcus - who stepped forward to give an account.

“I was tailing it and it appeared harmless until I had it cornered. I flew through a window without it physically touching me,” said the Centurion, his light-coloured eyes grave. “It appears to have some kind of magical ability but unfortunately, I was unable to determine anything further around it due to my injuries.”

Having first appeared in the spring, over the course of the summer they had only grown more frequent in sighting and in boldness. The Centurions believed it was only a matter of time before they began attacking other passerbys- whether that was mundanes or Downworlders, Pangborn said solemnly.

“Are they a new type of demon?” asked the Wanstead Flats pack’s alpha, a no-nonsense woman with short brown hair, who was frowning. Sabina remembered the pack’s territory extended into Stratford and East Ham, not far from where the wraith sightings had been. Not far from where her and Noura had grown up.

There were murmurs throughout the Sanctuary at the question. Demon attacks had dwindled over the past few years, a welcome side effect from the sealing of dimensional portals. Some predicted it would mean the redundancy of Shadowhunters eventually…but in Sabina’s experience and time patrolling, at least in London there were still more than enough demon nests and ongoing effects of the Dark War’s decimation of Shadowhunters to make that only a dim future possibility.

“As of present, we don’t know-” another Centurion - Divya Joshi - stepped forward. “We haven’t had enough encounters with them to conclude that, although it would be highly unlikely. We are advising all Enclave members to carry both seraph and non-seraph weapons in the meantime,” she answered.

If it were a new type of demon, it would offer more questions about whether all gates were closed… Sabina saw a few sober looks exchanged between Centurions, and she thought they might have similar worries.

“And as for Downworlders?” Hypatia Vex’s voice echoed through the chamber, as she spoke from the back of the room, her violet-coloured jumpsuit standing out from the sea of Shadowhunter black. She must’ve entered late, thought Sabina. Always one for a dramatic entrance, Hypatia.

“We would ask you to be on guard, and let us know when and where you spot the wraiths. Do not try to engage them- we will take on that responsibility.”

“And if you need help containing one?” Hypatia lifted one finely-plucked eyebrow.

“I’m sure we will find enough in our coffers to get the best assistance from London’s premier warlocks,” Roger said smoothly, from where he was sitting beside Evelyn on the dais.

Hypatia shrugged gracefully. “You know where to find us,” she said.

There were a few minutes of further questions from the Downworld representatives before they filed out of the Sanctuary. The Shadowhunter-only portion of the debrief commenced, with Roger and Marcus explaining the joint plan to tackle the threat between the London Institute and the Centurion office.

As the meeting broke up, Sabina pulled out a patrol rota. Roger had asked her to draw up a new one that afternoon- one she’d have to run by the others.

Extra patrols, starting from tomorrow. It would be a further strain on their resources, given the inexperience of many of Enclave members and the recent loss of yet another family who originally found refuge in London, post-closure of Idris by the Cohort. The Andales family had finally made their way back to their homeland, homesick and unable to adjust to life outside of Idris, although Louise and Cristoph had promised they could be called upon if the Institute ever needed them. It was the fifth family in two years, Sabina remembered ruefully.

At least she had Herondale to add. He looked like he could handle himself in a fight, remembering his bout with Jacob. No matter what she personally thought of him as her competition to be Institute Head, Raziel knew they could take all the help they could get for patrols, especially with this unknown wraith threat.

She scanned the sanctuary to see if he was still around and saw him making a beeline for the tall Centurion - Tiberius Blackthorn - who he gave a quick kiss on the cheek to, and then casually slipped his hand into his pocket. Blackthorn went slightly red but also pulled Kit closer in a familiar gesture before returning to his conversation with a few of the other Centurions.

Sabina raised her eyebrows. Interesting. It made no difference to her but selfishly, she wondered if Evelyn knew about Kit’s partner, given Evelyn’s old-fashioned morals - and if it might be another negative strike against him (or if she’d just be glad his partner was at least another Shadowhunter.) Then, ashamed of herself, she concentrated back on her rota. She wanted the Institute position but she wanted it honorably, Sabina told herself firmly.

Ty’s face was a study of concentration, as he absorbed Kit’s recounting of his time so far at the Institute. Finished with their respective duties for the day, they had wandered a few blocks away from the Institute and were close to Blackfriars bridge, overlooking the busy Thames.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Ty said. The wind was strong enough to whip around his short hair and he brushed his hands in front of him on the railing.

Kit sighed. “I know.” He set his bag down against the guardrail, looking out to the railway bridge.

Ty shook his head. “I mean- not the part about your invitation to join the competition. Lineages are important to Shadowhunters. Herondales have frequently run the London Institute and Evelyn is old enough that she might’ve even been around when James Herondale was Head.” He looked over at Kit. “She might have thought you’d be offended if you weren’t invited.”

“If only she knew me and how unlikely that was.” Kit was slightly put out that Ty was making the same points as Jace.

Ty shrugged. “She doesn’t know you though,” he pointed out. “Or-” and here, Kit could see the wheels turning in Ty’s head. “Maybe she does in some way. Because she asked for you personally to come to the Institute but didn’t mention the acting head was standing down. So maybe she didn’t know it at the time?” he hypothesised. “Or she wanted you to come to the Institute without scaring you off. She wants you for something.”

“Then she could’ve explained that in our one-to-one meeting afterwards. But she was just cryptic!” Kit thought back to their conversation. “She mentioned my unorthodox background and how it might be what the Institute needs. But it’s not like I can draw on the First Heir powers anymore.” He sighed and leaned forward, looking over the grey water and clouds.

Ty frowned. “True.” He tapped his fingers lightly on the stone railing they were leaning against. “It doesn’t add up.”

“You’re right it doesn’t,” Kit said. “There are sketchy things going on for sure.”

“Yes- and now we have another clue. I’m not sure it’s all coincidence. While you were there, did you get any indication who might’ve sent you the text message?” Ty asked, his eyes gleaming with interest. “It could’ve been from her - maybe Evelyn felt she couldn’t tell you- ”

Kit snorted. “Doubt it. The telegraph was probably the last mundane communication tool she’s aware of. But otherwise, not a clue.” The sun broke through suddenly, shining in his eyes. He turned his back away from the river, feeling irritated from the whiplash of the day’s events. “Anyway- it’s all a bit of a fucking mess- wish we’d never got that stupid text, and I’m beginning to regret ever agreeing to the invite.”

He sighed heavily. Part of him knew he was being dramatic. But given all the reminders he’d had today, he thought he could wallow in the Herondale family’s favourite pastime for once.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ty’s fingers pause, and then he said in a more tentative voice. “Are you- do you want to leave London, Kit?”

“No, of course not!” Kit said, turning back to his boyfriend. He reached out for Ty’s hand, taking comfort from the feeling of rough calluses and the quiet strength he drew from it. “I just thought this could be an easy thing for once, yeah? You and I- finally living together in the same city. Just doing normal things, for once- or whatever counts as Shadowhunter normal routines. Without having to solve a mystery or go on a secret mission or save the whole fucking world.”

“We don’t have to take it on ourselves-” Ty said, after a moment. He squeezed Kit’s hand. “We could tell Julian. Or send a message to Alec. Or even just to Helen and Aline, or Jace and Clary - tell them what we found. We could let the Clave handle it.”

Kit took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. It was true. This time- they didn’t have to be the only ones to deal with it alone. “Are you saying you want to step away from a mystery?”

He looked up to see Ty shake his head but there was a soft look in his eyes. “No. And I don’t think you do either. But I have my Centurion investigation into the wraiths and I have to concentrate on that. So most of this investigation at the Institute would be on your time but I’d still help where I could.”

“Right- ‘course,” Kit said. He took a moment to collect his thoughts. Ty let him- despite the months they spent apart, they still had an easy familiarity and knew when to give each other the space.

“Okay. Fine- I don’t want to leave London. And despite today’s bombshell, I’m intrigued and want to get to the bottom of whatever is going on. But I also think you’re right- we should at least tell Julian when we visit for dinner in a few days, just as back-up.” It didn’t hurt to have the Inquisitor knowing the plans and giving tentative agreement to a backdoor assignment, in case it all went south.

Ty’s slight smile widened. “Sounds like a sensible plan, Watson,” he said.

Kit interlaced their fingers and tugged Ty closer, similar to how they had embraced in the sanctuary. But here, instead of being surrounded by Shadowhunters - where Kit had learned to ignore the stares - they were an anonymous couple, not even noticed by the crowds of people, who all filtered past them.

Kit relished it, and he fully gave into the kiss.

“Also- sorry I made this all about me,” he said with a small laugh, when he drew back. “I didn’t even ask how your day was- and how the investigations are going?”

“I’ll catch you up,” Ty promised. He reached into his leather satchel to pull out his notebook, flipping to a specific page. “But first, I thought you’d want to know- I had an opportunity to research what kind of vampire glamour was on Ade, when we saw him last. Looks like a traditional encanto . I think if we head back to the hospital, we should be able to track down the vamp who cast it on him.”

Kit thought about it - a chance to solve one of the many mysteries they’d encountered since arriving in the city and a chance to keep one of his few remaining mundane friends safe from the Shadow World? “Absolutely- let’s go now,” he said. “We can catch the tube just a few minutes from here.”

Ty looked like he might protest at Kit’s sudden eagerness but then he shrugged and with a resigned sound followed as Kit pulled him towards the busy underground station.

“That’s the vampire?” Kit pitched his voice low.

Ty gave him a strange look at the obvious question. “Yes, it appears that’s her,” he said, returning his gaze to the scene in front of them, and the two figures sitting at the far back. “Why?”

“I just- nevermind,” Kit replied. Given his Shadow Market experience, the fact he had also visited the Hotel Dumort with Jace and had met a number of Lily’s clan, alongside the occasional rogue one that had required Shadowhunter intervention… he should by now know to not judge a vampire by their appearance. She didn’t look dangerous though but that might not count for much.

“What’s our plan here?” he asked, knowing Ty had had more experience in these types of situations, as Centurions often dealt with the more dangerous rogue Downworlders.

They were in mundane clothes, avoiding glamour for Ade’s sake, given he didn’t have the Sight. Standing right outside the hospital’s ground floor coffee shop and unfortunately, Kit also knew what the scene would look like to outsiders. Two muscular, tattooed white dudes, sitting down with a tall, Nigerian-English doctor, and a petite South Asian woman, who looked like another medical professional… a descent into a fight would not be a good look, to put it mildly. But at the same time, neither would be letting the vampire continue to prey on Ade.

Ty considered, his eyes narrowing . “It looks like they’re just talking so I don’t think we need to go in hot,” he said. “But if she’s rogue, it could turn messy. We’d have to neutralise her quickly- and in front of mundanes too.” He outlined the quick plan that was the usual Centurion protocol.

Despite his words, he looked calm, and Kit remembered Ty telling him about his classes at the Scholomance - the Downworld Relations course that used to be called ‘Interrogation’, and Kit felt his skin crawl briefly. He hoped it wouldn’t be a rogue situation but he also knew Ade- and how despite all his years of friendship with Kit- had always managed to stay away from getting involved in the Shadow World. Until now.

Kit thumbed over his concealed dagger that he always wore underneath his mundane clothes, tracing the heron pattern. “Let’s try to keep it peaceful.”

Ade’s warm brown eyes went from welcoming to worried when Kit sat down beside him. “Kit- what’s up- hey Ty- how come you’re both back here again so soon?” Ade knew that Kit had broken several Shadowhunter rules by bringing Ty to the hospital on the night of the wraith attack.

“Hey Ade, nah- we’re fine,” Kit said, trying to keep an easygoing smile on his face.

“I should go-” across from them the vampire started to rise, sudden distrust on her face but Ty quickly put a hand on her shoulder, directing her back down onto the seat. She recoiled from his touch, and a distasteful look crossed her face as she caught a glimpse of Ty’s Voyance rune. “ Nephilim.”

Despite the fact he’d had years to get used to it and the fact it more often directed against him - Kit couldn’t help but flinch at the tone in which it was said.

Ty had quickly withdrawn his hand from the vampire and his face was a mask. “I think we have a few matters to discuss before you do.”

Beside him, Kit could feel Ade tense, uneasiness crossing his face. He hoped he wasn’t going to have to tackle his friend- but if Ade was well on his way to becoming a subjugate- then he’d be protective over anyone who touched his sire.

Ade shifted in his seat, his sharp gaze darting between all three of the Shadow World citizens, But he didn’t move.

Kit let out his breath. “Hey- let’s keep things easy,” he said, trying to keep an even tone. He directed his attention across the table and pointed at himself. “I’m Kit and this is Ty. We just have a couple of questions.”

The woman’s dark eyes glittered in the dim cafe lighting and her red, full lips pulled up in a sneer. “Of course you do, that’s all you Nephilim ever do. Ask questions… take your tithe, before you decide to do whatever you want anyway.” She didn’t offer her name.

“We are sworn to protect mundanes from the Shadow World… especially ones that are brought in unwillingly,” Ty said, his voice deeper and harder than Kit was used to hearing. His Centurion voice. “There are several layers of encantos on Ade - we want to ensure our friend is not being taken advantage of.” There was subtle emphasis by Ty on the word friend.

“She hasn’t drunk my blood,” Ade said flatly- and Kit wasn’t sure if he was relieved or not that Ade knew his new friend was a vampire and that she would’ve probably preferred O+ to the coffee in front of her. Kit surreptitiously glanced at Ade’s neck and wrists- the most common areas for bites. He didn’t see any but he knew from Lily and Jace’s risque banter those weren’t the only place for bites.

Ty and Kit turned to the vampire for confirmation. Her eyes narrowed, and she sat back in her seat, gaze flicking to Ade and back to them. “Of course- that’s why it wasn’t working.” Her voice was warm and deep for a woman, the slight cockney twang melding with another fainter, melodic accent. Ade’s eyes were constantly drawn back to her, his mouth open slightly, and Kit was suddenly worried, despite the absence of bites.

“What wasn’t? The encanto ?” Kit asked, noticing that she wasn’t exactly denying her involvement with Ade. “Why were you bespelling him then?”

Ade spoke up again. “Relax, mate. Maryam and I work in the same department sometimes- and I know she’s a vampire because... I’ve walked in before at an inopportune time?” he directed the question at Maryam, and weirdly, they both looked away, almost in embarrassment.

“Several times,” the vampire - Maryam - muttered, and she pulled her coffee in front of her, almost as if warming her hands. She looked up. “The truth, Shadowhunters, is no, I have not drunk his blood, nor have I been seeking him out for that purpose,” she said steadily. “But he kept seeking me out during times that revealed my true nature. I had tried several encantos to keep him away. They kept failing.”

The uneasiness Ade’s face deepened, Kit thought, but he didn’t say anything further.

“But why?” Ty’s voice was puzzled. “He doesn’t have the Sight.”

“At a guess- it’s likely due to you two,” she said, gesturing at Kit and Ty. At the blank look on their faces, she let out a short, sarcastic laugh. “He’s your friend, correct? How long has he known your secret? How often have you dropped your glamours in front of him?”

Kit felt his stomach drop. “You mean- he’s developing the Sight. Because of us.”

“Barghast’s principle,” Ty said to himself, and he shook his head, looking thoughtful. “It’s a rare side effect- but it can happen to mundanes.”

“Whoa, whoa-” Ade put his hands in front, making a cutting sign. “Back up- everyone. What the hell is happening to me?”

“Nothing major-” Ty reassured him. “But as a side effect of having had brushes with the Shadow World you’re well- you’re gaining more and glimpses of it. Peering through the veil, as it were.”

“So…because I know you both as Shadowhunters- through my exposure, I’m like, gaining immunity to spells that should normally work on me?” Ade said, quickly putting it together. He frowned as Kit and Ty nodded.

“And further able to see certain parts of the Shadow World such as vampires,” Ty repeated, with a sideways glance at Maryam.

“If that answers your questions, Nephilim, then I believe we are done here,” Maryam pushed her chair back. Beside her, Ty was watching carefully but he didn’t try to interfere this time.

“Wait- what are your intentions for him in the future?” Kit demanded. Because Maryam hadn’t exactly promised not to drink Ade’s blood. And while subjugates - human servants - were no longer permitted- vampires were still able to have willing human’s blood. Kit remembered the vampire blood junkies at the L.A. Shadow Market. If Ade was as enamored with her as he looked, Kit wanted to understand what the vampire thought.

She drew up to her full five-foot-nothing height. “I have my own supply sorted,” she said shortly, her body language tense. “I have no need of your friend for that purpose,” she replied. She looked down her nose at them. “But if he’s developed the Sight, he could use someone to help ease that journey into the Shadow World…”

“And that’s you?” Kit asked sarcastically.

“If he wants. You know where to find me.” Her eyes locked onto Ade’s and Kit could see his friend squirm slightly and drop his gaze. “And from my experience, Nephilim are too busy demanding tithes and then leaving the rest of us to clean up your messes.” And with that final cut, she turned and left with a swift preternatural speed.

Beside him, Ade buried his face in his hands. “Mates, that was not on,” he complained.

Kit slumped onto the sofa while Ty bent to greet Irene at the door of the drawing room. “Not our finest hour of sleuthing,” he said, voicing his concerns.

Ty, finishing his ministrations, stood up, making a brief face. “No, not really,” he agreed. “But at least you know she’s not snacking on Ade. So it’s one less thing to worry about.”

The old grandfather clock bonged eight o’clock as he joined Kit on the sofa, pulling his legs across so that Kit was half in his lap, and tugging at Kit’s hair tie, undoing it so he could run his fingers through it. Kit tried his best not to melt from the gentle tugs through his curls. He also knew from previous incidents that it was a useful stim for Ty, particularly when he was trying to work through something.

“Also, there was something else strange during that conversation with the vampire.”

Kit reluctantly opened his eyes. “Other than the fact that she clearly hates Shadowhunters? She could be an old vampire who remembers not only the Cohort and Circle but times before the Accords. Not a surprise she’s not a fan of Nephilim. Us being friendly is a new phenomenon- and we weren’t exactly that tonight.”

“Based on her demeanor and strength of her encantos , I’d say probably only 50 years at oldest,” Ty said. He paused in his stroking, gently winding a long curl of Kit’s around his finger. ”No- it’s the fact she mentioned tithes. Twice. In relation to Nephilim.”

Kit’s mind had been so wrapped up in how he was going to help Ade with his newfound Sight - his friend had had to rush off to start his shift, so they hadn’t had time for a proper debrief - that he hadn’t delved that deeply into the conversation. But now that Ty had mentioned it, it was a strange phrasing. But one he had heard before, just not in relation to Shadowhunters.

“Yeah, tithes are very clearly linked to Faerie lore,” he answered, and Ty nodded confirmation. “I know Kieran and Ash accept some form of them during the most important harvest festivals. But they’re often trinkets or small favours, I thought. Nothing that would beggar or cause resentment among the Fae. But we could ask Ash on the weekend if there’s anything else to it.”

Ty’s eyebrows drew down, and he appeared to be thinking. “Maybe Maryam is older,” he mused. “I wonder if it was some form of payment that used to be demanded by the Institute. I remember reading about similar practices by some Institutes in the Scholomance’s library.”

Kit scoffed. “Like a kind of gangster protection racket?”

“Or a feudal payment?” Ty corrected him.

A buzzing in Kit’s pocket interrupted the conversation. He struggled to sit up to answer his phone, brushing his hair back behind his ears in a way he hoped looked respectable, given the name flashing up on his screen for a video call. .

He smiled at the face on the screen. “Hey Min-Min, you’re up late.”

Mina’s eye blinked and he smothered a smile as he watched while she corrected the orientation to show her sitting on her bed, Tessa beside her.

“It’s still summer, Kit,” she said patiently. “I’m allowed to stay up late, ‘specially if I’m reading a good book.”

Beside her, Tessa looked amused. “That’s not exactly what’s going on tonight,” she told Mina.

Mina shrugged exaggeratedly. “No. We’re wishing you a happy first day at the Institute or something,” she looked at her mum to confirm, which Tessa did.

“Thank you,” Kit replied. “It definitely was a day.”

“Uh oh,” there was a voice offscreen and Jem squeezed onto the bed. “That sounds like a story.”

Kit sighed internally. “I- it’s just. I’m now part of a leadership contest to become the head of the Institute.”

Both Jem and Tessa blinked. Then Mina, unconcerned about Kit’s news, peered closer. “Is Ty there?”

“I am,” Ty replied, and Kit shifted so that he was underneath Ty’s shoulder and Mina could see both of them. “Ty- I have an important question about kittens. Maggie’s doing this thing…” and Ty bent his head to listen patiently as Mina rambled on about her new pet kitten.

While she was doing that, Kit could see Jem and Tessa doing their silent communication between them that they thought he didn’t know about, but he definitely did.

After Ty had explained about the different toys Mina could use for Maggie, Jem interrupted.

“Mina- I think we should let Ty and Kit also get ready for bed- you can call again tomorrow.”

Following Mina and Tessa’s good-byes, Jem took the phone into the hallway, his face falling into shadow as he closed the door.

“You don’t sound very happy about the news, Kit,” he said neutrally.

“I’m not- well, it’s not exactly something I wanted but…” Kit trailed off. “But at the same time- we have suspicions not everything is going smoothly at the London Institute right now, and Ty thinks this might be a good way to get to the bottom of it.”

Jem was silent for a moment, and Kit wished he could see his face to read it. “I hope it’s nothing too serious,” he said, finally. “If it is- you know you can always send us a message and we’ll Portal there instantly.”

“I know that,” Kit reassured him. “But I don’t think this is a requires-former-silent-brother-and-warlock situation. Ty and I can handle it.” Beside him, he could feel Ty tighten his hold on Kit’s non-dominant hand.

“I’m sure you both can,” Jem said, and the strength of conviction behind the statement helped ease the tension in Kit’s shoulders. “Let us know how you get on,” he said gently. “And you know whatever happens at the London Institute, we’re proud of you.”

Kit nodded. He was grateful that Jem didn’t feel the need to add anything further on the topic. “I will. Oh wait- one more thing-” he realised he could check something. “Did the London Institute ever have something called ‘the tithe’?”

Jem had started walking down the stairs and he bounced in and out of the frame as he answered. “Hmm, it doesn’t immediately ring a bell- if there was, it wasn’t when I lived there, or when Tessa and Will led the Institute. But the Institute has extensive archives- perhaps check there,” he suggested.

Kit agreed, and he hung up. He and Ty sat in the darkening room.

“We should get some food, maybe order something,” Kit said. Ty shrugged. Kit leaned over and brushed a kiss on his cheek. “Look- we can’t solve a mystery or mysteries plural, without some proper food- like pizza.”

He saw out of the corner of his eye Ty about to argue semantics. “Endurance runes don’t count. And also, this has been the longest first day ever-”

“I can let you sleep in longer tomorrow,” Ty said, a small smirk crossing his face.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” Kit asked. But he turned so he was properly straddling Ty, letting his hands come to rest close to buttons that he was itching to undo. He looked up through his eyelashes at Ty, knowing their effect.

Ty’s face changed. “Whatever you want it to be,” he said huskily, and his arms encircled Kit, one hand behind the nape of his neck, as he pulled him down into a kiss. Food could wait.

Notes: Things are tough irl at the moment, so there might be space between this and the next chapter. Not sure but just as a heads up.

For more context about certain aspects of this chapter - ie. the first wraith attack where Ty was attacked and the initial suspicion that Ade was being encanto-ed- check out Weather Change. It will also provide some more context for the next chapter too, so I do recommend reading it at some point.

Please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list. :)

#i love this #tsc fanfiction #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #kit x ty #the wicked powers #the dark artifices #the shadowhunter chronicles #the shadowhunters chronicles icons #cassandra clare fan fiction #cassandraclare

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dontmindmyshadowhunting · 1 year

Text

Herondales Don't Fail: Ch. 1 - The London Institute

Ao3 / 1

Kit Herondale, Ty Blackthorn (Kit/Ty), original characters

Wordcount: 5,412 words

Rating: Mature

Notes: This is the Kit POV story of "The London Files", which are one-shot or multi-chaptered fics set post-The Wicked Powers. Established Kit / Ty relationship, where they're about 22-23 years old. Set in the same universe as Effortless (Or, the time Kit almost earned an A-Level) but you don't need to read it to follow the story, although it will add a bit more context to Kit's relationships to the OCs (Ade and Ellie) in this fic - basically, they are his school friends from Devon.

You can find the main case file stories here and other stories set in the same verse here. I would suggest also reading 'Weather Change' as it's basically a prologue to this story, although this one can still be read independently.

The morning of his first day at the London Institute Kit woke up with cold feet, morning glory and Ty staring at him like he might burn a hole in his forehead.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” said Ty.

“Good morning too, love,” Kit said, with a groan. His head was intermittently aching and he suddenly remembered last night. He had come back in after his night out dancing with Ellie and had pounced on Ty, who had leapt up from his report-writing in eager reciprocation.

Kit looked down… yep, that was one huge hickey that he had on his left pec. And from previous history, he knew his neck probably looked like a drunk vampire had gotten at him.

Ty’s gaze dropped down to Kit’s fingers searching out his neck. “Don’t worry, we can iratze them before you have to head to the Institute.”

Kit suddenly felt nervous, remembering the day ahead. For comfort, he reached out to trace his finger down Ty’s cheek, from grey eyes framed by darkest eyelashes to his perfect jawline.

Ty closed his eyes. And then in a graceful movement, pulled Kit closer to him in the bed. His lips found Kit’s and they kissed with a tenderness that deepened after a few beats, Ty stroking his hair gently.

Kit broke the kiss reluctantly. “Ty- what time is it?” They’d been in London less than a week and he hadn’t adjusted to the timezone yet.

“5:45. You still have a couple hours before you need to leave,” Ty said, close to his ear, and in his voice, Kit could hear a dark thread promising a very good time in that intervening period. “Especially as you don’t have to drive in L.A. traffic.”

“That is the sexiest thing you’ve said to me in about.... five hours,” Kit said, pressing a quick kiss on Ty’s cheek. Who needed sleep, anyway? Particularly given their recent schedules… Kit would always seize the opportunity.

Ty lifted his head and his lips curved in a smile, eyes gleaming with smugness. “Good, as I still have several things I want to do before you leave this morning.”

He could feel Ty’s fingers tightening in his hair, directing his head back into a more advantageous angle that gave him access again to Kit’s neck, his other hand roaming downwards. Kit bit back a groan, and leaned into Ty’s shoulder.

But a conversation from the previous night right before they had fallen asleep popped into his head. Kit could feel Ty hovering over him, his lips stroking across his throat. He made his decision.

“No,” he said. Ty stopped. Kit’s hands reached up and disentangled Ty’s hand from his hair. “Pretty sure we had a deal last night-”

Ty pulled back, with a small pout on his lips. “I was hoping you’d forgotten about that,” he admitted but a quick, shy glance upwards meant Kit was certain he was going to get his way.

“Oh- you can definitely go back to sucking later on,” Kit told him with a grin, letting his eyes drift downwards suggestively.

Ty smiled enigmatically and he looked at Kit with a sardonic eyebrow raised as if to say - why are you waiting?

Kit responded by rolling so he was on top, straddling him and an incomprehensible noise came from the back of Ty’s throat. He reached up for Kit- but Kit pinned his hands easily over his head and leaned over him, his long hair falling around him and tickling the sides of Ty’s face. “My turn,” he said.

Ty’s expression was of a person accepting their fate. “Okay,” he said, his voice full of desire and slight resignation.

Kit smiled. He would accept the rare victory of Ty Blackthorn giving up control.

An indeterminate time later, and Kit entered the downstairs kitchen, freshly showered and ravenous. He nodded at Anush who was standing and peering over Ty’s shoulder as Ty pointed to something on his laptop screen, talking in a low voice.

Anush was taking notes with fierce speed but managed to nod companionably as Kit crossed the brightly-lit kitchen. They both were dressed in smart trousers and collared shirts, with their Centurion pins flashing in the morning sunlight. “So we’ve considered that they may have stationed part of their network in France?” Kit heard him ask.

“Yes- but,” Ty paused in his explanation. He tilted his head as he watched Kit turn around, pushing up his sleeves, and Kit wistfully admired the sight. Before they arrived in London, it had been almost six months since he had spent more than a day or two alone with Ty. And given their first London patrol and Ty's injuries, Kit was just thankful he had the chance at all to admire Ty in the early morning light.

Admittedly, Anush wasn’t part of his domestic fantasy, but Kit supposed he had to make allowances, given how closely he and Ty worked together as Centurion partners.

But he had paused for too long, and he could see Ty about to ask a question. “You’re both starting early,” Kit said hurriedly, grabbing supplies for breakfast. He eyed the coffee machine with slight betrayal- he had sworn he had programmed it the previous night. Then he sighed - and stretched across the counter to turn the switch on at the wall.

They’d visited the Herondale townhouse on Curzon Street occasionally over the past couple of years - ever since he and Jace had collectively agreed to restore it back to being a liveable home instead of a museum relic - but infrequently enough Kit still sometimes forgot the fact wall sockets in the UK had to be turned on. The coffeemaker gurgled to life.

Ty rolled his eyes, distracted. “I still haven’t gotten the ban on bringing mundane equipment to the office lifted yet so Anush is taking physical notes for our meeting. It’s much less efficient,” he said, annoyance evident in his voice

“Give it time,” Kit said, grinning. “You’ve only been working there for a couple days- once they realise their best Centurion is being asked to do his work with one hand tied behind his back, they’ll lift that laptop ban.”

“Excuse me- TWO best Centurions here,” Anush said jokingly, leaning across the table to grab another thick pile of papers.

Ty gave Kit a small smile as he turned back to his screen. “I hadn’t realised how old-fashioned it would be here,” he said.

“They’re very traditional here still,” Anush agreed with a sigh. “Honestly, if we can get them to listen, it’d make our lives so much easier to use a computer rather than handwritten notes. Plus filing would be digital and super easy,” he said, looking at their stack of paperwork.

He turned back to Kit, who could see his sharp brown eyes scan up and down, a crease forming on his forehead. “Speaking of tradition… today’s your first day at the Institute right, Kit?”

“That’s right,” Kit said, and he narrowed his eyes in return, as he started eating his breakfast. “Something wrong with how I look?”

Anush shrugged as he held his hands up. “Nah, look man, you know I don’t care. But just so you’re aware… from what I’ve gathered in the week I’ve been here, the Centurion office takes its cue from the London Institute. Super traditional.”

Kit raised his eyebrows and looked down at his clothes. The pit in his stomach deepened and he could feel the previously-squashed down anxiety rising. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a small frown cross Ty’s face at Anush’s words.

Kit took a deep breath. “I’ve packed standard issue gear in my bag for training but-” he said, defiantly crossing his arms. “They asked for Kit Herondale, that’s who they’re getting.”

Anush snorted and Ty looked amused. “They’re definitely getting a Herondale,” Anush said.

Kit pasted on a grin. “And who am I to deny them that experience?”

He gulped down the rest of his cereal and poured some fresh coffee into a travel mug. “But- speaking of, I am gonna head out- don’t want to give them any impression other than the one I’m trying to carefully cultivate.” He picked up the bag he had packed the previously evening, silently thanking his previous self for being proactive.

He loped across the kitchen and bent to give Ty a quick kiss. “See you this afternoon for the wraith briefing?” he said and Ty nodded. “And Kit-” his hand tightened on his forearm and Kit picked up on the subtle warning.

Kit squeezed back. “I know- I’ll keep my eye out,” he said.

The mysterious text message they had received the night they arrived in London. The London Institute is rotting from within - tread carefully Herondale.

Sabina was heading down from the armory to grab breakfast, when she came across her sister peeking around the corner of the corridor to the Institute’s entrance.

She took in her sister’s appearance as she approached. Unlike the previous day, there appeared to be fewer scorch marks on Noura’s heavy duty apron she wore over her gear, which suggested that today’s experiments were going well. Or not well. She couldn’t really tell which but so long as Noura continued to avoid Evelyn’s notice for another couple of months until the new Head of Institute was decided, that was the main thing.

Noura spotted her out of the corner of her eye and she waved Sabina over. He’s here, she signed, gesturing towards the front door.

Sabina hurried over. No need for further explanation of who ‘he’ was. The legendary Herondale. And her competition; unless she was wildly mistaken about Evelyn’s meeting this afternoon.

She debated whether to take a look but her curiosity and Noura’s slightly impressed look was worrying… she decided to risk it. She peeked. Noura pulled her away, grinning, to an alcove where they could talk.

“Huh,” Sabina said, facing her sister so Noura could read her lips. “He’s… not what I was expecting.”

She had met Jace Herondale when she had spent a month at the New York Institute, early in her travel year. As a newly Ascended Shadowhunter, and one who had only previously spent time in the old Academy when it came to Shadowhunter society, she hadn’t really felt comfortable exchanging more than brief pleasantries with him, even if he was only a year older.

This Christopher Herondale, part of the group of heroes who had saved the entire Shadow world four years ago, wasn’t exactly built in that mold. Oh- he had the same broad shoulders and blond hair of his cousin but…

“He looks like a Shoreditch hipster,” Noura said, smirking. “Hot.” She feigned wiping her brow.

Sabina rolled her eyes but internally, she agreed at her sister’s succinct summary. Well, the first part at least.

Long hair pulled back into a high bun, dark fitted jeans, paired with an artfully faded t-shirt and converses, a canvas backpack casually slung across his shoulder.... if she hadn’t been otherwise informed, and he wasn’t standing in the entryway and chatting with acting Head of Institute, Roger Stormborn, he could’ve been any mundane she encountered on the Tube. Or as Noura said, a denizen of a certain popular East London bar area. Sabina also could have also sworn she spotted several ear piercings. Definitely not the traditional Shadowhunter look.

She grudgingly admitted her sister’s second observation was also true. This Herondale was easy on the eyes. But Sabina had long ago learned how to adjust her internal hotness calibration for Shadowhunters- especially the long-lineaged Shadowhunter families, otherwise she wouldn’t have made it through the Academy.

Plus, the fact that they were often assholes helped.

She wasn’t sure if there was as much of a glow-up for Ascended Shadowhunters (though Noura had certainly attempted to quantify it via their skincare routine pre- and post-Ascension). But she did admit certain old Shadowhunter families seemed to have something of the ‘je ne sais quoi’ about their features. Even for…

“Sabina!” A familiar Scottish baritone voice called from across the hallway. Jacob gave her a friendly smile, as he sought her out. “How is the armoury inventory coming along?”

“I’m on break, Dearborn,” Sabina said, with a polite nod. “But it’s coming along. How is library archiving?”

“Fascinatingly actually- if you’re going to the dining hall I’ll catch you up on-”

“I’m actually catching up with Noura so…” Sabina interrupted. She watched as his beautiful blue eyes slid across to her sister. “Of course- I’ll see you at training later,” he said, nodding to them both as he took his leave.

Noura grinned at her sister and arched a questioning eyebrow, which Sabina ignored. She concentrated on the matter at hand. “What do you think people’s reactions are going to be?” she asked reluctantly, returning to the matter at hand.

“Evelyn is going to freak out when she sees him. You know- she’s like, all ‘ra rah we’re Shadowhunters and need to hold ourselves to higher standards. I doubt she’ll be a fan, even if he is a Herondale,” Noura said, her dark eyes dancing with glee. “I’d be more worried about lover boy as your competition- but even then,” she shrugged, waving dismissively at Jacob’s retreating back.

Sabina bumped her shoulder. “Ugh- do not start,” she said. But she did feel faintly reassured; she trusted her sister’s intuition. Noura pushed back a strand of her short, black hair as it fell in front of her eyes, watching Sabina straighten up. She nodded in the direction of the Herondale. “Should we go and introduce ourselves?”

Kit sucked in a breath as he leapt backwards and out of reach of the broadsword that Jack- no, Jacob was swinging towards him. He hefted his own sword and spun around in an economical half-twist. With brute force, he angled his blade close to the opposing hilt, forcing his opponent to grunt and step back.

Starting Shadowhunter training so late meant he was never going to achieve the sleek fluidity Emma, Ty and others had, which made close combat look so easy. But he had compensated for it with other strategies- pure strength and well-

He saw his opportunity and kicked out towards Jacob’s ankle, trying to force him off-balance to get under his guard. He grinned at the shock on Jacob’s face, which quickly turned into a scowl as Kit gained the upper hand in their one-on-one.

He could hear murmurings from the small group gathered on the side of the stuffy training room hall, watching them.

He also heard Jem’s warning voice in his head. Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should, Kit and Emma’s dry voice when he pulled out his more unorthodox moves - save those tricks for the actual demons and work on your form when you’re sparring

But he also heard the echo of Jace’s advice when Kit told him his plans to move to London. You have one chance to make a first impression, so make it count

Kit’s fighting style was messy, dirty and… mundane. But effective, he thought grimly, gritting his teeth as he swung around and tapped Jacob under his armpit in what would’ve been a killing or heavily wounding blow if they were fighting for real. Given Jacob’s last name - Kit decided he wasn’t going to lose sleep if he fought a bit underhandedly to win against a Dearborn.

Jacob’s eyes widened and he held his arms up. “I yield,” he said, stepping back. He gave Kit a considering look, as another of the London Institute’s Shadowhunters stepped into the training circle.

The Institute tutor, Sabina Burakgazi had been one of the first residents Kit had met- alongside her sister, who was also standing on the sideline. In contrast to Noura’s enthusiastic greeting, she had been quiet and reserved, her fine-boned face polite and distant as she greeted him. Even in the training briefing she had given when he joined the afternoon session, she hadn’t given any indication she was seeing him as anything other than an additional body, which Kit was grateful for.

Sabina stepped into the circle and Kit took the opportunity to do a quick pre-sparring evaluation. A few years older and a few inches shorter than him, dressed neatly in gear, with hair pulled back and held in a beige-coloured turban wrap, Sabina looked more ballet dancer than fierce warrior. But Kit knew that delicacy was likely deceptive. As she sauntered up, he was reminded of nothing more than the leopards that had watched him and Ty warily when they had last visited the San Diego zoo.

“We’ll finish up here for the time being, Herondale,” she said. Her brown eyes flickered up and down in a business-like fashion, pausing briefly on his left wrist, which was aching slightly. He resisted the urge to rub it.

Assessing. Like most Shadowhunters did when they learned his name- wanting to see one of the famous Herondale line in action, although Sabina was more subtle than most. Not that he blamed her.

And at least most London Institute inhabitants seemed far enough removed from the front lines of the final battles to understand his role in them so there were more curious looks, in contrast to the pitying or scared looks he sometimes got when he visited the NY Institute. Evelyn’s invitation had been short and to the point- and while it had specifically requested him, there had been an oddly impersonal tone to it. Kit was hoping it might actually mean that London would be a good fit. Where he could be just an average Shadowhunter.

Figure out if it was actually what he wanted.

“We’ve been summoned to Evelyn’s office,” Sabina told him, holding up the fire message in hand before turning away, clearly expecting him to follow.

Kit wiped the sweat off his brow, and looked down at his gear. “Without changing?”

“Believe me, you do not want to keep her waiting,” Noura called out, and Kit could see a couple of the other young trainees laugh nervously.

“Noted,” he said. He held out a hand to Jacob, wondering what his opponent would make of it. Jacob just clasped it briefly and said: “Good match.”

“You’re to come along too, Dearborn,” Sabina said, her mouth twisting slightly when she said his name.

Kit noted Jacob’s face fell fractionally but he nodded, laying down his sword and flattening down his already perfect head of chestnut-brown hair.

They both hurried after her.

Evelyn Highsmith - the regal Head of the London Institute sat in a high-backed chair in a corner, away from the bright August daylight streaming in and illuminating dust motes in the air.

Despite her advanced age, she stood to greet them with only a slight lean on her eagle-headed cane. Kit vaguely remembered her from the whirlwind visit to London seven years ago. It had been the summer his father died, he met the Blackthorns - he found a place with the twins - and everything in his life changed irrevocably.

He wasn’t sure she remembered him but her hooded, rheumy blue eyes watched him closely as he filed in after Sabina, Jacob following.

The other two Shadowhunters took a sort of soldier’s ‘at-ease’ position in front of her, and Kit tried to imitate them, feeling awkward about it. In L.A. Helen and Aline didn’t stand on ceremony, and in New York, Jace and Clary’s style could be loosely called ‘chaotic coordination’ but clearly - as Anush had mentioned - things were more traditional here.

Evelyn sat down, and pulled out several folders, clearing her throat. A soft snick of the door and the acting Head, Roger Stormborn entered, muttering apologies for the lateness. He moved to stand behind Evelyn’s chair, facing the three of them. Kit didn’t know entirely what the dynamic was there. Evelyn was in her ninth decade, Jace had told him, and should have stepped down years ago, but had refused to, particularly in the aftermath of the Dark War, and then the mess with the Princes of Hell and portals. Stormborn had been the de facto head for day to day activities.

Not much was known about Roger- he seemed steady enough, if thoroughly unremarkable, according to Clary’s internal notes on the heads of Institutes.

“Ms. Burakgazi,” Evelyn began by reading the first folder. “Top of your year at the academy, unusual for a mundane student. Ascended in 2012. Travel year with the New York, Buenos Aires and Jakarta Institutes and a secondment to Sydney. Joined full time with the London Institute and you’ve been with us for - five years now?” Sabina nodded. “Named Institute tutor last year, following Amanda Cartright’s retirement.”

Evelyn turned to Jacob. “Mr. Dearborn. From the Strathclyde Dearborns - your family has been attached to the Edinburgh Institute for five generations, including several heads…” Jacob stood up taller, if that was even possible, Kit thought. “Travel year included time at the Stockholm, Vienna and Moscow Institutes. Then back to Edinburgh. You were acting head at the Winnipeg Institute for two years before the decision was made to close it and transfer remaining Shadowhunters to Calgary. At which point, you asked for a transfer to London, where you’ve been assisting us in archiving the London Institute’s history.”

Evelyn’s gaze moved to Kit, and he willed himself not to reveal his apprehension. Whatever was written in her file on that, he reminded himself, it would likely only be half of the truth. If that.

“Mr. Herondale. A late discovery of your Shadowhunter heritage and Herondale name at age fifteen. You had a brief stay with the Blackthorns of the L.A. Institute before Jem Carstairs and the warlock Tessa Gray were made your guardians.” As she chose to only refer to Tessa’s warlock nature and not her Shadowhunter background, Kit suddenly remembered Evelyn’s disdain for Kieran and Magnus.

“Despite their limited ties to our Institutes and society, you still completed your training. Sometime during this period, it was also discovered that you were the ‘First Heir’ - a Shadowhunter/Faerie hybrid, who was-” Here, Evelyn looked down to read carefully. “Meant to bring the Faerie Realm under Shadows.” Kit could feel Jacob and Sabina try not to look at him at this stage.

“Despite your Fae heritage-” Kit tried not to bristle “-in 2015, you joined your cousin Jace Herondale, and Clary Fairchild’s quest to Faerie to defeat the Princes of Hell, which of course, as we all know- led to the interdimensional gates closing.” Evelyn droned on. “In the preceding years, you’ve visited a number of Institutes, although none for an appreciable amount of time. No travel year mentioned.”

“I had a mundane travel year-” Kit interrupted. Evelyn looked up in surprise, spectacles sliding down her nose. “I beg your pardon?”

“I er- spent a year in the mundane world, after the gates closed,” Kit said, defensively.

“Well, that certainly explains the attire,” Evelyn said dryly, pausing to give him another unimpressed once-over. “Although not the persisting in its wearing.”

“Since then I’ve taken on several missions to the Seelie and Unseelie Courts. And spent extended time at the L.A. and New York Institutes.” Kit tried to keep his voice even.

“Yes,” Evelyn said slowly, her gaze scrutinizing him once again before returning the paper. “You come very highly commended from those Institutes’ Heads.”

She closed Kit’s file and then cleared her throat. “I imagine you all know why you’re here.”

Absolutely not a fucking clue , Kit thought, wondering why she had pulled the three of them out of training to basically read back their Shadowhunter resumes to them. Particularly him, given he had only arrived this morning. As far as he knew, he was an extra body, helping rebuild what used to be Europe’s largest Enclave but currently held mainly Shadowhunters a year or two out of their travel year. He snuck a glance to Sabina and Jacob, who both looked pale but determined.

Roger came forward, a troubled look on his face. With a sinking stomach, suddenly a suspicion formed in Kit’s mind. “My health is no longer strong enough to run such an important Institute. I’ve been afflicted with a mundane illness that is proving troublesome for the Silent Brothers to treat outside the Basilias, and I can no longer put off the treatment needed,” said Stormborn.

“Sabina, Jacob, Christopher,” He nodded at each of them. “You will be working together to run the Institute until December, and at that point- Evelyn will decide which of you will be the next Head.”

Kit had thought years of therapy had cured him of the urge to run anymore. But it still seemed that the Shadow World could throw him curveballs to spur that habit.

“Christopher, stay behind please.” Evelyn’s voice was brusque.

Having half-expected the request, Kit returned to his previous spot and watched as the others filed out.

Evelyn was writing and he studied the old, dingy paintings of Shadowhunters cutting down swathes of Downworlders behind the large desk as he waited for her attention to turn to him and to get his own swirling emotions under control.

“Welcome to London, Mr Herondale. I imagine this meeting was something of a surprise to you,” she said finally.

Kit resisted the urge to shrug. “I imagine seeing how I reacted was useful in some way to you.” If this was going to be how she wanted to play it, he wasn’t going to dissemble. He had seen Aline and Helen use this tactic in L.A. and - come to think of it, other Blackthorns- use the tactical withhold of information in order to throw someone off guard.

There was a tiniest twitch of her lips, as she nodded. “Perhaps.”

In your invitation, you didn’t even hint at wanting me to be Institute Head- you lured me here under false pretenses, he thought. But he didn’t voice it outloud. He thought about his next few words carefully, trying to figure out how to best sell his objections while still communicating he wanted to remain in London. Close to Ty. “It seems a risk though, bringing in an outsider like myself who doesn’t know your practices and… traditions.”

He watched her carefully, wondering if she might give clues as to why she chose him as a candidate.

She pursed her lips. “You’re a Shadowhunter, Christopher-”

“-Kit.”

“And you’ve gone through the standard training-”

“You mentioned my Fae heritage,” Kit said, trying to salvage the conversation. “Does that not disqualify me?” A slight stiffening of her shoulders was her tell - as he suspected- his ties to Downworlders did bother her.

There was a narrowing of her eyes. “As much as I hate to admit it, times have changed - and it hardly prevented the appointment of Helen Blackthorn to the L.A. Institute, did it?”

Kit tried to backpedal. “I meant-”

“And from what I understand- it’s hardly a concern anymore, hmmm? No further claims to the thrones of Faerie, due to the loss of that magic.” Evelyn tapped the folder, her gaze steely.

Kit froze, pushing down unwanted memories. Ash’s desperate, slipping grip as Kit transferred everything, every powerful jolt of magic, a legacy he never wanted, in order to save him and heal Faerie.

“I – no, I don’t have further claims to Faerie thrones,” he said roughly.

He lifted his eyes. “But frankly, I’m not a suitable candidate for running this Institute, Ms. Highsmith.’

“Let myself and Roger come to that conclusion. You’re a Herondale who has survived missions that would’ve killed most Shadowhunters. You have a lot to recommend,” Evelyn said, a tone of finality entering her voice. “And your unorthodox background might just be what this Institute needs.”

Her gaze raked briefly over him. “That being said, I expect you to look like a proper Shadowhunter, Christopher. Including the hair. Starting tomorrow,” she said, turning back to her papers.

Kit heard the dismissal. He nodded and turned on his heels, exiting, frantically recalibrating everything he had thought about London, and what this post might mean.

“Stormborn is retiring? That’s unexpected.” Jace’s voice sounded surprised on the other end of the phone.

Kit scrubbed his face as he paced the length of the courtyard, ending up underneath the gate, just before the noisiness of the mundane world intruded. He had debated who to call post-Evelyn meeting (he wanted to tell Ty in person) and he figured Jace might’ve had some inkling about this. And if that was the case, Kit was going to kill him for letting him walk in unprepared.

“Yep. End of the year. And somehow he and Evelyn have decided that I, of all people, am somehow one of the suitable candidates to run the Institute.”

“Well-”

“Fuck no ,” Kit hissed. “Jace. I told you- that’s not what I wanted, coming to London.”

“Hey, fair enough- and I didn’t give that reference thinking you’d be handed the reins of the Institute.” Jace’s voice was conciliatory. “Especially on your first day. But you know…”

“If you mentioned the Herondale name, I will hang up,” Kit threatened.

Jace laughed. “You said it, not me. What can I say- attention and authority just flows to us, Christopher. You might as well embrace it.”

“I’m 22, no way in hell should anyone be putting me in charge of anything,” Kit said. “No wonder the Institutes are floundering if they keep putting inexperienced idiots in charge.”

There was a brief silence on the phone and Kit closed his eyes, remembering. “I mean- I’m referring to myself. It was different for you and Clary.”

Jace let out a small chuckle. “You’re closer to the mark than you think. I’m referring to myself of course, not my darling wife. Yes-” In the background Kit could hear Clary’s voice.

“Anyway, you’re also less of an idiot than you think and I say this having gone with you on patrol after eating two plates of Izzy’s cookies…” Jace’s voice softened. “See how it goes. It’s not like it’s being handed to you on a silver platter. And okay, you don’t like being reminded of it but c’mon- you could’ve gone to practically any Institute- but you chose London? Where Herondales have a long history of running the Institute?” Jace’s voice was skeptical. “Evelyn probably had to add you to the running list to fulfill tradition.”

Kit luckily had a good comeback to that point. “I only came to be closer to Ty, now that he’s been reassigned. And anyway I still think they’re wrong,” he muttered. “Also- f tradition. Everyone keeps saying London’s traditional. So far it looks like it’s where fashion comes to die.”

“That’s Old World Institutes for you.” He could practically hear Jace’s grin. “My advice - give it a month or two. If you’re still thinking it’s not for you after that, endorse another candidate. I’m sure they’d appreciate the support.”

Kit remembered the wary glances Jacob and Sabina had given him, as they left Evelyn’s office. “Not sure about that...”

There was a pause and Kit tensed, wondering if he was going to get a further ‘Herondale name legacy’ spiel.

But Jace was wiser and didn’t bother, likely anticipating how it’d land with Kit. “You know you’re welcome any time to come to NY again. Anyway, gotta go- Jossy is grabbing at my dagger and Clary is glaring at me.”

“Yeah, I have to go too,” Kit said, looking at his phone’s clock. “Ty and the other Centurions are arriving soon to give a briefing on the wraith attacks.”

“Now, that I am interested in-” Jace said, his voice suddenly infused with the Institute Head authority that he could turn on instantly. “Send me a message if there’s anything new to report.”

“You mean, anything juicy that’s not in the official dispatches,” Kit countered.

“In your new role you’ll be writing a lot of those official dispatches,” Jace reminded him. “But also, yes.”

“Will do,” Kit said. Then he remembered the ominous text message- but he and Ty had decided to wait until they had more solid evidence and he decided to keep it to himself for now. Other than this surprising news, there weren’t any immediate red flags that he could point to at the Institute- but then again, maybe this competition would help them both figure out where the message came from, and what it referred to.

Either way, his arrival at the London Institute was not going the way he thought it would.

Please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list. :)

#tsc fanfiction #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #kit x ty #the wicked powers #the dark artifices #the shadowhunters chronicles icons #the shadowhunter chronicles #cassandra clare fan fiction

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dontmindmyshadowhunting · 1 year

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Art by the wonderfully gifted @high-warlock-of-brooklyn

Read the first Chapter of my contribution to the TSC What If Bang 2022 on A03!

The prompt I was given was the following: What if Kit claimed his throne as a teenager and met Ty years later, when he’s the King of Faerie and Ty is a Centurion?

Sneak Peek:

There was chaos in King Arawn’s throne room. The Seelie Queen had barged in just as prince Ash Morgenstern had been ordered to execute the Unseelie sovereign’s youngest son, Kieran Kingson. Mostly because, unlike his father, he was loved by their people.

Why? the blond boy had asked, his lips trembling and his grip on the heavy sword as faltering as his resolve.

Whatever little choice he had in the matter was taken from him when a moment later, Annabelle Blackthorn, Shadowhunter witch, dragged him through an interdimensional Portal, dooming him to a life in a lifeless world. Thule.

The Seelie Queen’s cry as her second child was taken from her had pierced the room. The Unseelie King, shaking with rage, had ordered his Riders and guards to kill her.

And just as everyone in the room believed the most unexpected had occurred, King Arawn’s command died in his throat, replaced by gurgling noises. Blood was streaming from a gruesome gash slashed across his neck. The gathered faeries and Shadowhunters stood in horror as his head simply fell off his body to roll down the few stairs and halt in front of the crowd. The worst half exposed.

Behind the throne, a young boy - he looked no more than fifteen - was standing with a blood drenched dagger in his hand and he was wiping the weapon against his blue jeans. His mouth was set, his expression resolved, as if he had been working up the nerve to be where he was. To do what he had just done.

Who was the Kingslayer? He was a puzzle to look at. The sharp facial features of the Fair Folk, although he didn’t have pointy ears. The bearing and muscular figure of a Shadowhunter although he did not bear any Runes. Most peculiarly, he was dressed like a mundane in a plain black T-shirt with holes in it and a pair of used sneakers under his faded jeans. It was clear though that he was much, much more. It wasn’t only that, despite his attire, he looked more kingly than everyone else in the room, sovereigns included. It was in the way his authority appeared undisputable, his rule, ineluctable. In the way he exuded power.

His gaze swept the room before resting on the Queen, and locked. Her own eyes - the same blue as his - widened as she raised a trembling hand to her mouth. Auraline, she whispered in awe, but in the eerie silence, the single word carried across the room. Murmurs broke among the fair ones who now all wore masks of shock. The First Heir. Auraline’s child looks just like her. The First Heir’s alive. The Unifier. The Peace bringer. The news seemed to elicit equal terror and joy among the Seelie and Unseelie subjects.

The boy’s expression was unreadable as he moved to sit on the now deserted throne, his bare elbows gracefully positioned on the armrests. He extended one leg and tilted his head to rest a cheek on his left fist.

“The King is dead…” He proclaimed in a cool voice.

As one, the fey assembled in the stone room dropped to their knees. The boy’s lips curled into a crooked smile.

“Long live the King,” he concluded.

*****

Tagging @tsc-what-if-bang @high-warlock-of-brooklyn and my lovely beta reader @amchara

So glad to be back! Dearest 😍 @rinadragomir @gabtapia @noah-herondale-lightwood @spooky-drusilla @morgansmovingcastle @nicotheangel17 @deep-fried-brain-cells @of-same-steel-and-temper @immortal-enemies @babbling-brook-of-books @i-sold-my-soul-to-house-wrath @mferraz @belise5 @drmindduct @krisimarcheva @t0wergirl @lettersfromthecorvids @fluffy-bacon363 @insertwittyandsmartnamehere @ahumanbeingtryingherbest @hherongraystairs

#tsc what if bang #the shadowhunters chronicles icons #the shadowhunter chronicles #the wicked powers #the dark artifices #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #secrets of blackthorn hall #kit x ty #tsc fanfiction #kitty fanfiction #cassandraclare #cassandra clare

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dontmindmyshadowhunting · 2 years

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Ooooh love it! Intriguing 👀

I know it’s a Drabble but would love to read more 😊

So Ash is training Kit? Secretly?

may need a new drabbles g-doc. 😂 also, i am heavily abusing the definition of drabbles here, heh.

#tsc fanfiction #ash morgenstern #jace herondale #janus herondale #fanfiction writing #the dark artifices #the wicked powers #drabbles #kit herondale #drusilla blackthorn #dru blackthorn #dru x ash

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dontmindmyshadowhunting · 2 years

Text

Hmm 🤔 let me see…

Ash walks up to Jace and, thinking it’s Janus, addresses him… in a very friendly manner.

What do you think?

may need a new drabbles g-doc. 😂 also, i am heavily abusing the definition of drabbles here, heh.

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dontmindmyshadowhunting · 2 years

Note

It’s always such a pleasure to read what you write @amchara 😊 hoping I’ll get to read more 😉

👀👀👀

🥰 How do you feel about reader interaction? Are you open to receiving questions about your fics?

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

💥 How do you feel about criticism?

Writer to writer bestie I wish to know 👀

Ooh, I like this selection of questions! :D

🥰 How do you feel about reader interaction? Are you open to receiving questions about your fics?

Like most writers, I crave feedback. I love both the long thoughtful reader comments, as well as the arghjjhkjb types of comments. And yes- I absolutely adore receiving questions about my fics! I am not always as prompt as I should be in replying but I will try to reply as soon as I am able. :D

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

Ooh, good question. It depends on my rl schedule. Last year, I wrote Effortless (40,000+ words) in about a month. But that's not always realistic. On a good, focused day- I can turn around a one-shot fic of around 1,500-2,000 words in an evening but I often like to let it sit then, for a day or two. When it comes to multi-chaptered fics, a chapter per week (3,000-5,000 words) is about my limit, I think. I burn out too much if I try to force it beyond that.

🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

Comedy. Dammit. I think I have romance down pat (having written fanfic since I was 15 😅) and being a non-Destiel/non-Wincest shipper in Supernatural meant I cut my teeth on plotty gen fics and action. But oh, I struggle with comedic writing *shrugs*

💥 How do you feel about criticism?

Depends on the type! I'm always open to good concrit and @dontmindmyshadowhunting has been great for that as my beta reader.

But I don't always see the point of complaining about characterisations or actions in the story, as it's often a matter of how we see the characters differently - and in an already published story, it's not always that useful? *shrugs*

Send me an emoji and I'll tell you about my fics!

#tsc fanfiction

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dontmindmyshadowhunting · 2 years

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Trouble Seems to Follow (Part Seven)

Kit Herondale, Ty Blackthorn, Livvy Blackthorn (Kit/Ty)

Wordcount: 5,155 words (23,236 words in total)

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six)

The final part of the 'Kit and Ty meet again after three years when Kit rescues Ty by teleporting them out of danger.'

Kisses are analysed, secrets are revealed, and the Seelies hunting Kit down return (with a special guest). The final installment of this story!

As always, thanks to @sandersgrey for the Kit/Ty posts that keep inspiring fic, including this one!

There was something about kissing Ty that scared Kit. It was unlike kissing Holly, even when she had been the one nipping at his earlobes and down his neck, leaving hickeys and Kit had briefly wondered about bites and how werewolf transference actually worked.

No, it was different with Ty. It was everything Kit wanted… but it felt somehow darker, where they were both still keeping walls up, a spark of dormant conflict and uneasiness existing, despite boundaries becoming tangled between them.

He was aware of Ty’s body covering his in a possessive stance, pressing against him in a way that in other situations would have set off his fight or flight instinct. His hands were around Kit’s waist, firm pressure and unmoving, in contrast to their usual beautiful fluttering movements. But Ty kept his kisses lighter and undemanding even as Kit curled fingers into his dark hair, urging him him down, closer. Wanting to close the distance of years apart.

After countless times agonising over lost and potential what-if scenarios in his head- touching Ty, kissing him- initiated by Ty was the sweetest relief. But it also provoked new waves of anxiety. What if he was doing it wrong? What if this was his one chance and he was messing it up? Shut up, Kit tried to tell his spiralling thoughts.

He placed his other hand at the edge of Ty’s borrowed shirt, slipping it underneath. He hesitated until he heard an impatient in-breath, and a slight movement of Ty moving even closer and only then did he allow himself to touch Ty’s skin, feeling goosebumps and the hard planes of muscle as they moved with his breath, as their lips touched and lifted. Ty left butterfly kisses around Kit’s mouth and along his neck, sending thrills down Kit’s nerves, setting them alight. Kit traced along Ty’s shoulder bones, feeling the curve of Ty’s lips shape into a smile as he did so.

Sometime later, Kit leaned his head back to catch a breath, dropping his hands from their explorations.

Ty also drew back, his gaze set at a point in the wall. He kept his hands where they were, almost as if to keep Kit in place- from fleeing again.

Kit studied him, trying to read into the set of his jaw, the squint around Ty’s eyes or the subtle tension he held in his lips for clues as to what they did next. Where they went after this bridge had been crossed - no, thoroughly destroyed - when it came to their friendship.

Rather than address that thorny issue, his eyes were drawn to the slight raise underneath the fabric of Ty’s shirt. Kit traced a finger over one of the delicate chains, hooking a finger over it, to pull out the Herondale necklace.

Ty let out an involuntary shiver.

“You shouldn’t wear this anymore,” Kit said, his voice cracking loudly. Ty’s eyes flew back to his face, settling on his lips, as Kit winced. “It was supposed to keep you safe. But things have changed and wearing it now will only put you in danger.”

“I’m not in danger from the necklace,” Ty said, his voice steady. Finally releasing Kit’s waist, he took several small steps back. Watching Ty distance himself again, Kit felt a sudden surge of apprehension.

“Kit. I have to tell you something,” Ty said. “I was going to wait until Livvy came back but I- can’t wait.” He looked nervous - possibly for the first time since they had reunited - rubbing his hands up and down along the side of his jeans.

Kit’s stomach was churning with uneasiness. He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms. “Okay?” he replied, trying to remain casual.

“I know you’re the descendant of the First Heir.” Ty met Kit’s eyes as he dropped his bombshell, his eyes now dark and fathomless in the rapidly-darkening training room.

Kit straightened up at Ty’s confession. Whatever he expected Ty to say, it wasn’t that. But then again, it wasn’t exactly surprising Ty had put two and two together, he reasoned. The monster attacking Ty had addressed Kit as the heir. And combined with the past twenty four hours and seeing Kit’s powers in action… “Right,” he said, neutrally, noting that Ty was waiting for a reaction before continuing.

“We- the Centurions, we know the Seelie Queen and her court have been trying to track down this heir - and it’s… you,” Ty said, rubbing the back of his neck, ducking his head. He looked distraught. “I’ve realised it’s you.”

“Yeah, no shit- that’s been my life these last three years, them trying to find me.” Kit said bitterly. “What of it? I didn’t exactly expect the Centurions to protect me, if that’s what you’re saying.”

“No- but. You probably didn’t expect the Centurions would be helping the Seelie Court track you down.”

“What.” Kit felt cold. “Why?” Suddenly his heart was pounding too loudly in his chest and he could feel his gaze drawn past Ty to the door to the rest of the house. His power itched in his veins, telling him to leave, escape, flee.

“Why? Kit, I’ve just seen what you can do. And according to prophecies we’ve read, you’ll be ten times more powerful once you’ve learned to harness it properly.”

Ty’s voice was back to that same, flat tone. His Centurion voice, Kit decided. “Plus, you have claims to both the Unseelie and Seelie thrones which- if they go to war, it could spill over to the wider Shadow World-” Ty was shaking his head, almost disagreeing as he listed all the reasons that Tessa had laid out to Kit, all those years ago, when she invited him to live with her and Jem at Cirenworth.

“Yeah, yeah- fine, I’m a ticking time bomb,” Kit interrupted, pushing himself off the wall. His power was building again, gaining energy from his growing anger and fear.

Fighting against his instinct to flee, Kit walked up to Ty instead, forcing him to back up several more steps. Kit narrowed his eyes. “So, I guess- for the good of the Shadow World, what are you gonna do? Arrest me? Hand me over to the Seelie Court?”

Ty’s jaw moved imperceptibly, his eyes darting back and forth past Kit.

“Whoa, things seem to have escalated here,” Livvy’s voice was loud behind them, as she materialised in the gloom.

“Not a good time, Livvy,” Kit told her, watching as Ty pivoted to greet his sister, as Livvy drifted up to his shoulder. The twins held a rapid hushed conversation between them, before Livvy turned to Kit.

“Well, you better make up in the next thirty seconds ‘cause you need to leave Cirenworth now. Ty’s machine has gotten very good at giving the Seelie Court’s hunters a heads up to your location… and Anush has just spun it up to try and locate you again.”

“Ty’s machine?” Kit knew his voice was strained at this new detail of Ty’s betrayal. Ty grimaced and looked away.

Livvy’s mouth went into a round ‘o’ and she blinked rapidly. “Yeah- his and Anush’s adapted Sensor- did he not tell you-” she said, looking confused. “I just- you were talking about the Seelie Court, so I assumed you knew he’s been running the Centurion side of the operation to find the heir… like, before he knew it was you.”

“We were getting there,” Kit said, gritting his teeth. “I assume.”

He looked over- only to find Ty had slipped behind the nearest workbenches, gathering up throwing knives. “You need to pick a weapon,” he called out to Kit. “Quickly, before we go.”

“What do you mean ‘before we go?’” Kit tried to sort through his rapidly blossoming thoughts, which were threatening to overwhelm him. Automatically, he moved towards the nearest plinth, and grabbed tiny knives and their corresponding sheaths.

Ty stopped in front of him. “We’ll need to teleport away from Cirenworth for the fight,” he said. His voice was calm, even as he tapped a rapid rhythm on the ground with the massive pike he had grabbed from the wall. He held out several larger knives to Kit.

Kit threw a glance to Livvy, who nodded. “We need to go.”

“What do you mean we?” Kit repeated, even as he accepted the knives. Ty couldn’t mean-

“Kit, I know you almost drained your power earlier but- you need to take both of us to a location away from Cirenworth. Otherwise your family won’t be safe,” Ty told him, his voice barely above a whisper, deadly serious.

“I - seriously? You’ve been sending Seelie hunters after me, and now you want me to take you to an ambush with them?” Kit pointed out. He clenched his fists, feeling the ornamental hilts of the knives becoming slippery in his sweaty hands. Why was he wasting time? He should’ve been left as soon as he had heard Livvy’s warning.

Ty screwed up his face in consternation and his eyes kept slipping to Livvy before being drawn back to Kit. “I understand why you don’t trust me but you need me there for the fight,” he said fiercely.

“I- can’t,” Kit said.

Ty’s hands spasmed around the pike. “Please- I want to help. Let me help you. So you don’t have to keep running - you told me you don’t want to keep running.” Livvy was hovering behind Ty, an anxious expression on her face.

It’s an impossible dream Kit thought dully. Particularly with the bombshell Ty had just dropped - that the Centurions were helping track him down - it didn’t bode well for his future freedom or chance of a normal life. He tried to focus on buckling the knife sheaths around his forearms.

“Kit, please.” Ty’s voice was almost a whisper and Kit’s survival instinct kicked in. It didn’t have to be today that he was finally caught, he thought. This time around, he could have a well-trained, insider Centurion help him slip the rapidly-tightening net.

Assuming Ty wasn’t double-crossing him and wasn’t just planning to deliver him over to the Seelie Queen. But that didn’t seem Ty’s style; so, did Kit trust him?

Kit made his calculations rapidly. He stashed the knives in his arm braces and moved within Ty’s orbit. “Where to?”

Ty didn’t hesitate, shifting so Kit could comfortably fit his arms around him, in a tight embrace. “Someplace with high cover, maybe a few miles from here. So we don't have to hike half a day back again,” Ty said, his voice close to Kit’s ear.

“I’ll follow,” Livvy promised.

In the distance, Kit could hear Jem calling him and Ty for dinner, as the scene in front of them melted away in a blur.

Kit felt like he was going to be physically sick. The trip to the steep, hilly Dartmoor viewpoint where he and Jem had started hikes had taken most of his power reserves, and he fought off dizziness, clutching at the nearest tree trunk. Had he jumped quickly enough that Ty’s adapted Sensor was tracking him to this new location, or were the Seelies going to show up at Cirenworth?

“Let me-,” Ty took his arm, turning it upwards and and efficiently sketched fresh strength and perseverance runes before letting go of Kit, watching him closely for a minute before turning away. Dizziness fading, Kit was reminded once again of the usefulness of runes but decided he may have to talk to Ty about his obsession with drawing them on him.

Livvy popped into view and with unspoken agreement, all three of them turned their attention to their immediate surroundings, looking down from the craggy, tree-filled outcrop of rock, and the empty parking lot and fields below. Luckily, there didn’t seem to be any mundane hikers around.

It was so quiet in the still countryside evening that the sudden pop and appearance of the Faerie contingent made Kit jump.

“Oh shit.” Kit had never heard Ty swear using mundane terms before.

While Kit’s previous brushes had involved one or two at most Fae warriors or beasts, this was a full contingent, counting at least fifteen fully-armed faeries and two very large wolf-like creatures pacing back and forth below them. Standing as an odd man out, there was also a Centurion, his dark hair and skin and black uniform in stark contrast to the bone-armoured Seelies.

No matter how well-trained Ty was - and whatever help Kit could provide - there was no way that they could take them. Even if Ty was inclined to fight his fellow Centurion.

Kit looked over at Ty’s pale face and Livvy’s terrified look and a wave of despair washed over him.

“What do we do?” he could see Livvy mouth and Kit shook his head. Maybe it was best that this was where he surrendered, keeping his family safe and far away, he thought, even as every part of him rebelled against that suggestion.

“It’s not possible to fight that many…” Ty murmured, as an intense look of concentration crossed his face.

Several long seconds passed and Kit grew antsy, attempting to split his attention between the danger below and Ty.

“Well, Sherlock?” he asked.

Ty smiled at the nickname, despite Kit’s sarcastic edge to it. He dropped his pike and fished out a couple more items from his pockets, and dropped them carelessly underneath the nearest tree. “I have a plan,” he said, his eyes gleaming. “Pass me a knife, Watson.”

Kit handed it over and then bit down on a yelp as Ty pulled it out of the sheaf, and with a swift motion dragged it high across his collarbone, and then across his left cheekbone. The cuts bled a sluggish red as Ty addressed Livvy. “Can you shield Kit with your ghost cloaking ability, Livvy? For a few minutes at least?”

“I- I think so. I don’t know if Seelie magic can cut through it but I can try,” Livvy nodded and Ty looked reassured.

“Ty- don’t be, what the fuck are you even doing?” Kit hissed, torn between wanting to get an explanation or better yet- drained power be damned- grabbing Ty and teleporting them both someplace far away from the deadly squad below.

“Buying us enough time so I can get back to London and disable the Sensor,” Ty replied, as he added a few more shallow knife cuts to his arms, and then smeared the blood around.

Kit and Livvy looked on in horrified silence. “But I need to do it now before they find us!” Ty said, more urgently. “Climb that tree and just wait here,” he told them, pointing. Without waiting for an answer, he started to walk towards the narrow path down to the empty parking lot and towards the Faeries, who had gathered their bearings and were beginning to spread out.

Feeling incredulous but unable to think of anything better to do, Kit hiked himself into the nearest suitable tree. Livvy floated up beside him. “Stay still - it’s cold but it won’t hurt you,” she whispered. An invisible blanket of cool air fell across him, and the world suddenly went foggy at the edges, as if they were in a glass filled with condensation. “When did you learn that?” Kit asked, his voice low enough he wasn’t sure she heard him.

But she did. “At the Scholomance - I discovered I could hide from other ghosts, and Ty and I experimented where we discovered I could also cloak him from ghosts- and also from his fellow students. For a time, at least. ” In the ghost bubble, Livvy’s eyes were fathomless and her voice was as harsh as the winter wind.

Kit tried not to recoil. Then he leaned forward, as Ty broke from the tree cover towards the now-fanned out Faeries. His heart in his throat, he heard a shout from the nearest one, aiming their crossbows at Ty’s heart, before Ty was ushered into the centre of the group.

Several long agonising minutes passed as Kit strained to see Ty’s every move and gesture, watching as Ty pointed to his self-inflicted cuts, and wondering if he was able to pull it off whatever mad plan he had come up with. He didn’t seem to have been immediately taken prisoner by the Seelies, which Kit figured was a good sign.

A few moments later, Ty’s debrief finished, the Faeries continued their scouting of the area. A small group of them, including Ty, headed towards the outcrop where Kit and Livvy were hiding.

In the distance, Kit could see Ty and the other Centurion - he wondered if it was Anush - in a deep conversation, with a large piece of paper held in his hand and Ty pointing to several spots on it. The wind blew snatches of words towards them but Kit couldn’t make out a legible conversation. He gradually relaxed as Ty’s stance remained ramrod straight but untroubled while hiking upwards with the other Centurion. But then Kit’s attention turned to the Seelie wolfhound attached to the group, which growled and rushed ahead to the clearing where they were hiding.

Kit tensed, rustling branches. Livvy glared at him and he shrugged apologetically. As the Faeries prowled underneath and around them, he tried to refrain from even breathing. In that sense, he thought, Livvy had the easier job.

“Dhosvy has found a scent,” said the imperious Seelie knight holding the lead. “The Heir must be close.” The wolfhound started circling around the tree Kit and Livvy were hiding in. Kit closed his eyes briefly, wishing he believed in God, Raziel… any deity, so he could pray to them.

But Ty shook his head. “Perhaps-” he said, looking perfectly at ease despite being only a few metres and moments away from his whole ruse falling apart. “Or-” he tilted his head and went to grab his abandoned weapons, under the tree, picking up a small box. “He might be picking up this artifact that belongs to the Heir,” he said, flashing the small wooden box he had shown to Tessa, Jem and Kit, hours earlier.

“It’s something I found while searching in the area,” he told the Fae, who were looking disgruntled, as the wolfhound sniffed eagerly at the box being held out and growled at it. “It’s associated with the Heir and I dropped it in my brief skirmish with him.” Ty said calmly gesturing to his wounds. He smiled, at ease, reaching out to let the wolfhound sniff his own upturned palm, which was brave, Kit thought, considering the size of the creature.

The two Fae looked disappointed and they spoke amongst themselves in a language Kit couldn’t understand but assumed was High Fae. They circled around the clearing a few more times with their hound, while Ty and the other Centurion just watched in silence. But Livvy’s cloaking held and Ty’s deception seemed to have convinced them. After a few more tense minutes, the duo left, their soft, sibilant High Fae words sounding angry.

Ty and the Centurion lingered, as Ty picked up his pike and other spilled weapons. “So… I assume you’ll tell me the full story of how you arrived here, in the nick of time, when we’re back in London and out of Fae earshot,” the other man said, softly. Despite his accusatory words, he sounded almost cheerful and from Kit’s position in the tree, it looked like he was almost grinning at Ty.

Ty nodded slowly. “Yes, I definitely have a story to tell,” he said neutrally. “But I have to head back to the Carstairs’ place first- their library has some texts on Fae legends I think will be useful to unravel the next stage of finding the Heir.”

“Hey. We’ve already found him- it’s just too bad he got the jump on you this time and escaped,” said Anush. “You should’ve brought along Kit Herondale on your hike. I know some of the London Institute aren’t too keen on him but he’s a Herondale, so I’m sure that’s got to count for something. And you mentioned in your message he was helpful last night- which by the way, I am still hurt you chose to bring him instead of me for your jaunt down to Devon to investigate your newest lead.”

Ty just shrugged in response. But Anush didn’t seem to take it personally and continued chattering on as they made their way back down the hill.

Kit let out the breath he had been holding.

Slowly, the Faeries drifted back from their reconnaissance of the area, and despite the distance, Kit thought he could see the looks of frustration on their faces. After another short huddle and consultation, one of the more grandly-dressed Faeries held up his arm, and as suddenly as they had appeared, they blinked out of existence, leaving Ty alone again.

Kit slumped back against the tree’s spindly trunk with relief.

Ty made his way back to them almost half an hour later, which Kit assumed was in case anyone had tried to follow him. His lips were tight and white-rimmed, and he kept running his hands through his hair, almost compulsively, as he entered the clearing where Kit and Livvy were waiting.

“You can come out,” he said. Kit cautiously made his way out of the tree, and watched Livvy rush over to her twin and fuss, as Ty slumped onto a flat rock.

Kit approached, watching Ty scrub at his face, and he could see the sweat beading Ty’s forehead, despite the rapidly-cooling night air.

“That was a bold plan,” he said, as the silence stretched out between them. “I didn’t realise you had become so good at deception,” he said.

Ty’s face shuttered at Kit’s words. “It’s a skill like any other Centurion one- like any good detective should have,” he said defensively. “Anyway- you’ve been good at it for years,” he said, lifting his chin.

Ty’s words stung more than Kit would have liked. “Yeah well- we’re both excellent liars now, hooray for us,” he replied.

Livvy sighed loudly and both of them turned to look at her. “Oh please- do NOT start this again,” she said, throwing her hands up in the air. “Can’t you both acknowledge that you’ve both kept secrets from each other and move past it?”

Kit ignored her plea. “Oh, I don’t know- maybe. But then again, maybe the fact you’ve been in charge of hunting me down for the past few months could’ve come up earlier?” he said, directing his sarcasm towards Ty.

Ty stiffened. “I didn’t know it was you- plus you also haven’t been forthcoming about where your power came from. Or why you’ve been in hiding.”

“You didn’t ask,” Kit shot back. Then he realised how weird that was in hindsight- Ty not asking those questions, and his curiosity made him forget his anger briefly. “When did you figure it out?”

Ty had started angrily tracing patterns in the dust of the rock he was sitting on. “I didn’t know it was you,” he repeated, unwilling to look up. “But I started to have suspicions almost from the beginning when we met up again.”

“Then why didn’t you say something?” Kit asked, desperate.

Ty stopped his finger drawings, and slowly stood. “Because I didn’t want it to be true,” he said, an undertone of anger colouring his voice. “Because I don’t want us to be on opposite sides of the war that is coming.”

Kit felt cold apprehension at his words. “Wait- what do you mean by that?” He looked to Livvy but didn’t find any clues on her pale, immobile face.

Ty shook his head, looking frustrated. “I- I don’t have time to explain it all. Not right now,” he said, starting to pace around the clearing.

Kit could’ve throttled him there and then. “Why not?”

“Because I have to head back to the London Institute. I need to disable or adjust the Sensor so the Seelie Court doesn’t immediately come after you again!” Ty pointed out, and he looked close to losing his patience with Kit. He ran his fingers through his hair again, letting it stand on end.

In the fast-paced scenes of the previous hour, Kit had forgotten about that. He nodded reluctantly. “Okay fair.” He watched as Ty re-arranged his weapons, shifting the small box that had saved his skin, into a front pocket.

“What is that, really?” he asked Ty, nodding at the Faerie artifact.

Ty ignored the question, pulling out his stele to draw an iratze on his arm instead. Kit pushed down his irritation. He paused. “Thank you for risking your career to pull one over on the Seelie Court for me.” Despite his hurt over discovering Ty’s role in the whole mess, he owed him that much, at least.

“You’re welcome- today’s situation is only the start though, to avoid them catching on,” Ty said thoughtfully, stowing his stele and tapping his fingers on the pike again.

Kit thought about the monumental task Ty seemed to have just agreed to - keeping Kit out of the Seelie Court’s way and presumably also out of the hands of his fellow Centurions. How long could he keep up a double agent life? And why was he agreeing to it? Ty had wanted to be a Centurion for a long time and was surely risking not only his career but also potentially his status as a Shadowhunter just to help Kit.

Kit felt conflicted - it all felt like too much to ask of Ty- and therefore, he didn’t trust it.

Noticing Livvy’s mournful gaze towards Ty, Kit also considered her position - watching from the sidelines as her twin moved through life, her own autonomy shuttered and tied to Ty.

And how his own life- which was barely kept under control- was spiralling into an even larger problem. Particularly as his cover as a barely-competent Shadowhunter was crumbling around him. He- and Tessa and Jem- were going to have to come up with a new plan. Or maybe it was time to drop the subterfuge and show the Shadowhunters who he really was.

The dying rays of the sunset lit Ty’s hair, catching red highlights, and with his unhealed scars, he looked every part of the dangerous, dark presence Kit had originally seen when he first properly met Ty again, deep in the depths of Dartmoor.

It had been only a little while ago they had snatched a brief moment to be just Kit and Ty. As they had been in L.A. Friends- or maybe it had always been something more, Kit thought, remembering their kiss. Part of him wanted to kiss Ty again, and part of him wanted to shake him until he gave up every remaining secret hidden behind those flinty grey eyes.

But their roles as Centurion and First Heir were overshadowing everything else. And any clarifying questions Kit might have proposed were stuck in his throat.

“So… what are we going to do, long term?” he finally asked, wondering if any of the sadness he was feeling came through in his voice.

Ty’s face softened. “I don’t know yet,” he admitted. He stepped closer to Kit tentatively. “But we’ll come up with a plan,” he promised.

He held out a hand and Kit took it, accepting the truce. Digging deep within his power, he returned them to Cirenworth without another word.

Ty, alongside Livvy, disappeared through the Portal, and Kit felt a hollow ache in his chest expand, as the flashing swirl of blue lights closed.

“As soon as I can, I’ll come back and we can talk more freely next time,” he had promised Kit just ahead of Tessa opening up the Portal.

Kit had crossed his arms, holding himself back from touching Ty. “You better,” he said baldly. “No secrets next time- all revealed, promise?”

Ty’s smile had been brief but dazzling, and he reached out to briefly embrace Kit. “I can do that,” he said. “We’ll find the time.”

And Kit had felt just the tiniest bit guilty.

“You’ll see him again soon, darling,” Tessa said, returning Kit to the present. She clasped him by the shoulders. “And the visit to Jem’s family is only temporary while we chat with Alec about what kind of protection you can get if you go back to another Institute.”

“Yeah,” Kit said, allowing a quick hug before stepping back. He hadn’t yet told Tessa and Jem about Ty’s reveal that the Centurions were working with the Seelie court to hunt him down- or that Ty was in charge of it, instead making up an excuse that he and Ty had lost track of time. He suspected if he hadn’t, Tessa might not have been so willing to send Ty back on his urgent mission to London.

“But… I don’t know if he’s gonna be super happy to see me next time…”

Tessa frowned. “Why?”

Kit dug into the pocket of his hoodie and produced the small, ornate box. “Because I pickpocketed that Faerie artifact from him.”

He felt bad about stealing from Ty. But he also needed to do what was necessary if he was going to stay one step ahead of the Seelie Court- and now the Centurions, even if Ty did manage to muddle the Sensor so it wasn’t able to find him. The box and the pendant within were clearly important to the Centurions’ mission around the First Heir, and he needed to find out why, even if - especially if - Ty was unwilling to tell him more about it.

Beside them, Jem swore softly and Mina, in his arms, giggled. “Kit…” Jem said.

Tessa shook her head but Kit thought he saw a proud look in her eye. “Do you want me to take a closer look at it, before you head off to Shanghai?” she asked.

Kit pulled off the lid and peered inside. In contrast to its fancy exterior design, the pendant inside was plain, a hollow circle, edged in gold, with two gems- a sapphire and ruby at either end.

He reached out to touch the sapphire- and immediately felt a pulling sensation, almost as if his powers were being activated unwillingly. He saw Tessa’s eyes widen and she threw out a hand, attempting to snatch the box away.

But it was too late; he felt the air compress around him and the warmth of Cirenworth’s garden turn into a damp, closed space. The scene in front of him twisted and reformed into a dark cave, lit by flickering candles with black flames. “What the-” Kit pivoted to find a blond boy - of similar age to him in front of him, practising sword drills.

His green eyes narrowed, noticing the pendant but didn’t seem to be surprised at Kit’s appearance and he let out a short, cynical laugh. “You’re early, First Heir,” he drawled. “But I guess we can start training now.”

I know, I know- it's not really a proper ending but it's as far as I'm willing to write my version of The Wicked Powers and Kit and Ty's reunion. And I know it's messy, a lot of questions unanswered- and they still don't entirely trust each other to truly relax, and who can blame them? But progress has been made, a connection reforged (and a kiss happened!) so I'm satisfied I've achieved everything I set out to do with this story.

Thank you for sticking with it, despite the long gaps between updates for the last couple of chapters. (Life, y'know?)

Taglist: @dontmindmyshadowhunting @jesse-is-spiralling @of-same-steel-and-temper @thomastaircompassrose @sandersgrey @thechangeling @mferraz @kestrafagnor @gabtapia @alldagayships @blindbandit1515 @silvermagnolias @chaotic-halfblood-kit @fighting-god-69 @lifeofbrybooks @all-this-panic-still-no-disco @heloisacosta23 @kitheronthorn @idk-i-just-really-like-tsc @t0wergirl

#yas #part 7 is out!#tsc fanfiction #kitty fanfiction #kit x ty #kit herondale x ty blackthorn #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #secrets of blackthorn hall #the dark artifices #the wicked powers

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