#tsccreatersnet

[livia-dovehallow]

first words (lightwood-herondale family)

Cecily and Gabriel say “I love you” to each other and their children so often, it’s bound to cause some mimicking....

Read on AO3

i. Anna

The first time Anna Lightwood spoke a coherent word was late at night, when she very much should have been fast asleep.

“Anna, please, go to sleep,” her father pleaded, bouncing her in his arms in the nursery. Anna giggled, clapping her small hands together in excitement. Her big, blue eyes that matched her mother so perfectly gleamed up at him. Gabriel sighed, falling victim to Anna’s charm. “You’re just like your mother. You know exactly how to break me down.”

“Wonderful,” came Cecily’s voice behind him. She appeared at his side and pinched Anna’s cheeks, which made her crinkle her nose. “You are learning well, my love. Soon, we’ll be able to convince your father to do absolutely anything!”

“Don’t encourage her,” Gabriel lamented, but he was smiling. “You stress me out enough as it is.” At Cecily’s side eye, he added: “In a very loving, not life-threatening heart-attack-inducing kind of way.”

Cecily smiled. “Ah. I love you, too.”

“Wuv!”

Gabriel and Cecily paused, staring wide eyed at each other, then at Anna. Anna tilted her head, as if to ask her parents why they looked so shocked. “Anna,” Gabriel said slowly, hugging his daughter a bit closer to him. “What did you say?”

Anna grinned proudly. She pushed her head forward, toward her father, and balled her little hands into fists. “Wuv!”

Gabriel exhaled, a large, bright smile growing across his face. “Love?”

“Wuv.”

Cecily let out a shriek of excitement and pulled Anna out of Gabriel’s arms to hug her close. “Anna! Your first word!” She kissed Anna’s cheek and spun around, turning right into Gabriel’s chest, where he wrapped his arms around them both. “I love you, Anna,” Cecily said to her daughter. “I love you so, so much.”

“Wuv!” Anna nodded, confirming her word choice. It was no surprise that little Anna Lightwood’s first word was love; her parents said it so often it would have been more surprising if it weren’t her first word. They always said it to each other and to her, to her uncles Will and Gideon and Aunts Tessa and Sophie, and to her cousins Barbara and Eugenia. It was a word she heard so often, she must have thought it was very, very important.

Her father held her head in his hand and beamed. “I love you, too, Anna. Papa loves you very, very much.”

“Wuv!”

ii. Christopher

“Kit,” Anna scolded, shaking a small finger at her brother. “Don’t do that! Mam will be very mad!”

“Don’t scare your brother, Anna,” said their father, who watched them carefully over the edge of his newspaper. Anna and Christopher sat together on the shaggy run in the family room, playing peacefully with their wooden blocks in front of the fireplace. “He’s still learning.”

Anna pouted, but listened to her father and plopped down on the floor beside her brother. Christopher, who until that moment had not paid his elder sister any attention, glanced up. His brown curls were tossed wildly atop his head.

Christopher looked like his father, much to Gabriel’s silent delight. They shared the characteristic Lightwood brown hair, unlike his mother and sister who shared the Herondale hair. It also seemed to help Kit find his parents when he got lost—all he had to do was find the grown up who looked like him.

Though, sometimes, Kit did end up tugging on his uncle Gideon’s trousers instead of his father’s; but, then again, little Christopher Lightwood was only 10 months old.

“Christopher, my love, what are you building there?” asked his mother, who emerged from the adjacent room and sat herself beside Gabriel. She perched on the edge of the sofa and leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, giving her children her full attention.

The young boy blinked at his mother and pointed to the wooden blocks he and Anna had been arranging. They currently formed a large tower, one which only Anna could reach the top, but for a toddler and infant, it was an impressive feat. “Guess what it is, Mam!” Anna said, holding her chin up proudly.

Cecily leaned further out and gasped. “Is—Is that the Institute?”

Gabriel lowered his paper and leaned out beside her, looking at the block structure his children had been working so diligently on. His eyes widened. “It definitely looks like the Institute.”

“It is the Institute, Papa!” Anna exclaimed. “Kit pushed the big ones. I did the little ones on top. They are too high for him.”

“It’s wonderful, my loves,” Cecily said, smiling brightly at them. “You did a fantastic job. Do you love it?”

Anna opened her mouth to answer, but it was Kit who the sound came from. “I wub oo.”

Gabriel lost his balance and slipped off the sofa onto the floor. “Pardon?” he choked, staring wide eyed at his son, who he was now at eye-level with. Kit looked at his father curiously.

Cecily gasped and brushed Kit’s cheek with her thumb. “Did you say something, Kit? Can you say it again for Mam?”

Kit only stared, his uniquely lavender eyes analyzing everything around him, including his mother’s face. Anna leaned in close. “You can say it, Kit. Say ‘I love you’ again!”

His little eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Then: “I wub oo.”

Cecily lowered herself down onto her knees, beside where Gabriel had fallen, and beamed at her son. “I love you, Christopher. Mam loves you.”

“Papa loves you, too,” Gabriel chimed in, ruffling Kit’s curls.

Anna frowned. “Do I love Kit?”

“Of course, love. He’s your brother.”

“Oh,” said Anna. She turned to Christopher. “I love you, too, Kit.”

iii. Alexander

“Ah, you little brat,” Anna laughed, dodging her youngest brother’s tiny, yet mighty, slaps. Alex reached up at her from his bassinet, curling his little hands into fists and uncurling them again. He was grinning cheekily back at her.

Her mother smiled at her from the other side. “It’s all you and your brother’s doing,” Cecily told her, wiping the last bits of Alex’s dinner from his face. He scowled in protest. “Teaching him to be a troublemaker is what you lot are doing.”

“And here I thought it was the Herondale genes,” Anna answered. A distant you’re right came from down the hall, where her father’s study was. Cecily huffed.

“Mam,” the remaining member of the Lightwood-Herondale family said, sauntering into the family room with a sheepish look on his face. Anna tried her hardest to stifle a laugh at her mother’s exasperated expression.

“Christopher Lightwood, what on earth have you done to your shirt?”

Even little Alexander Lightwood peered over the edge of his bassinet to look at his older brother, who stood in the entryway with an unknown substance of the color green splattered across his shirt. The cuffs, too, had been singed, leaving behind a remarkably even edge of orange-black soot. “In the pursuit of science, I believe I must have miscalculated my measurements.”

Cecily sighed. “Gabriel,” she called in no urgent tone—only the tone of a mother of three who had, at this point, seen it all. “Gabriel, dear, please come help Christopher clean up and find a new shirt.”

“Done it again, has he?” Gabriel emerged from his study and shook his head with a smile. He held his arm out and motioned his son over. “C’mere Kit, I believe I still have those spare shirts we ordered the last time we went to the shop stashed about here somewhere.”

Christopher began moving toward his father, then paused and turned back to Cecily. “I love you, Mam,” he said with a small grin, attempting to appease her. “I promise the table is still in perfect working order, aside from—”

“Wuv woo!” Alex giggled, patting the floor of the bassinet. “Wuv woo!”

Kit blinked. “Did he just say something?”

“By the Angel, what are the odds,” Cecily exclaimed with glee, lifting her youngest child into her arms and onto her lap. Alex stuck his fist in his mouth.

“The odds of what?” Anna asked, puzzled. “Of saying his first words? Don’t we all?”

Gabriel approached behind Cecily and rested his hands on her shoulders, looking at his youngest son with glee. “All of your first words were love,” he explained. He reached down and poked at Alex’s nose. The infant merely peered up at his father over his slobbery fist. “I didn’t think it was possible for all children to have the same first word.”

Anna scoffed. “Well, I oughta expect it. You two say the word so often I’m more surprised it isn’t the only word we know.”

Cecily and Gabriel ignored this comment from their daughter and cooed at Alex, who had begun to laugh once more at the renewed attention on him. “We love you, Alex. Mam and Papa love you!”

Christopher looked at Anna, eyes pleading to escape the room. Anna swiftly stood and fled the family room with him, leaving her parents to coo after their baby brother, who was definitely enjoying it.

#gabrily #gabriel lightwood #cecily herondale #anna lightwood #christopher lightwood #alexander lightwood #gabriel x cecily #the infernal devices #tid #the last hours #tlh #tsc #tsccreatersnet

[livia-dovehallow]

kiss you each morning - Gabrily

based on the song “Blueberry Eyes” by MAX (feat. SUGA of BTS) [English Translation Lyrics] || @tsccreatorsnet || also read on AO3

Well, damn, you look so good / Laying there wearing nothing but my t-shirt / Your body's a neighborhood / Wanna drive my lips all around it

Gabriel Lightwood had never given marriage much thought. He supposed, growing up, that he would marry some day of course, in order to please his father and continue the Lightwood bloodline. It was not until he met Cecily Herondale, however, that Gabriel ever considered the possibility that he wanted to marry purely for love. And love did not even begin to describe the way Gabriel felt about Cecily Herondale. “Are you cold?” he asked her that night, shrugging off his coat before she’d even had a chance to respond. Snow fell in a gentle swirl of wind around them, slowly blanketing the London ground. Snowflakes dotted Cecily’s dark hair, dampening it as they melted, and more snowflakes took their place. She turned her head to face him and smiled. Her smile rivaled the beauty of the snow around them, Gabriel thought to himself, losing his train of thought for a moment.

“I have my own coat, you know,” said Cecily with amusement. Gabriel ignored this and draped his coat around her shoulders, admiring the way she nearly disappeared into it. He was left only with his suit jacket, but as long as Cecily was happy and warm, he’d endure the Arctic tundra. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked, her head tilted back to face the gray skies. “It is so peaceful when it snows, as if all the sounds in the world just fade away in it. I can’t ever get enough.”

Gabriel did not answer immediately. Instead, he watched the way her eyelashes fluttered with the weight of the snowflakes landing across her face, and the gentle curve of her pink lips into a content smile. His heart pounded against his chest, both in adoration and anticipation. His body felt alight with electricity with her near him, a feeling that brought both peace and excitement into his life and he had yet to figure out how someone could feel both at once. A smile broke out across his own face. “It is,” he answered finally, his voice soft. Cecily closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, unbothered by the winter chill going into her lungs. If only he had a camera; he wanted to remember her like this; engulfed in his winter coat, her raven hair standing out against the white snow, moments before he would do perhaps the most fearsome thing he’d ever do. Gabriel lowered himself onto one knee. “Cecy,” he whispered. She turned and quickly flickered her eyes in surprise, expecting to look up at him instead of down. Her lovely blue eyes went wide. “Will you marry me?”

'Cause I'm holding my breath / Wondering when / You're gonna wake up in my arms / Head on my chest / My heart's beating / I can't wait to

There had never been so many meetings and parties in the London Institute in all of Gabriel Lightwood’s nearly twenty years on earth. This night was just like the others; full of important people wearing important clothes discussing important things and refusing to hear his or any other of the Institute inhabitants’ opinions on any matter while only begrudgingly heeded Will’s solely on the fact that he was now the head of the London Enclave.

Gabriel sat along the wall of the library, slumped against an old wooden bench that made him distantly consider the possibility of splinters in his backside. He listened to the conversations happening around him, waiting for his chance to put in his opinion on a matter and hope his brother would support him. Gideon sat at the important table, beside Will, with Tessa and Sophie on either side of him. Perhaps when he was married, like his brother was, he would have a place at the table. Taken seriously, welcomed, and heeded, as marriage was for men; not boys. The bench shifted beside him and Gabriel tore his gaze away to look. Cecily sat straight, brushing her hands along her skirt until it bellowed out like a lady before her. She wore no gloves tonight, as the Institute was her home, and it allowed for Gabriel’s eyes to follow the gentle curve of her fingers until they landed on the silver band she wore, engraved with a flame, and worn with pride. “Why haven’t you said anything yet?” she asked in a hushed tone. Gabriel looked up at her and immediately found himself lost in her eyes. “Said what?” he heard himself ask distantly. Cecily clicked her tongue in mock annoyance, but her eyes sparkled. “You are a member of the Enclave. You have a voice here. Why don’t you use it?” “They don’t seem to like the sound of my voice, I’m afraid.” She smiled, mischief slyly hidden in the gentle curve of the corners of her mouth. “Pity. I rather like the sound of your voice.” Cecily Herondale was not an adult member of the Enclave, yet. But, after several incidents involving one fearless girl and several broken floorboards, Will declared that his sister was to be an honorary attendee at Enclave meetings, if not for anything else, because she was his ward and he couldn’t possibly keep an eye on her if he was stuck in meetings all day. Gabriel wondered if anyone else had figured out that Cecily’s incidents were deliberate. He smiled back at her. “It’s late. Aren’t you tired?” She shrugged. “A bit, I suppose. But it is just so riveting in here. All this talk of weaponry reports and building remodels really makes a girl feel alive.” Gabriel glanced at the meeting continuing before them, then back at Cecily, who had been in the middle of a yawn and seemed quite determined to pretend she hadn’t been. Thirty minutes later, while considering declaring this meeting nonsense and demanding that everyone be sent to bed instead, Gabriel felt a weight against his shoulder. He turned his chin toward Cecily, whose head was slumped with her cheek pressed against the top of his shoulder, her eyes closed and lips parted slightly. His heart jumped as he flicked his eyes back and forth from the Enclave at the table and his fiancé beside him. No one paid them any attention at their spot along the wall. He watched Cecily instead, now, as her chest rose and fell with soft breaths. She was beautiful, Gabriel thought, and incredible. To go from stubbornly refusing to go to bed to asleep on his shoulder; that was his fiancé. He wouldn’t trade her for the world. Gently, and ever so quietly, Gabriel sank lower and adjusted her head so that it fit within the dip of his neck and shoulder rather than pressed along the sharp, bony end of his shoulder blade. Any business thoughts that had been in his mind were gone now, replaced with the wishful images of him and Cecily, married, in which he would one day soon be able to fall asleep with her curled up in his arms, her head on his chest. He would tell himself it was for her, to make her feel safe, but he knew deep down that it was mostly for him; to remind himself that he can be loved, and that by some divine intervention, he’d finally married the perfect girl for him. Then, as if life couldn’t get any better, he would wake up every morning and look into beautiful blue eyes.

Kiss you each morning / With strawberry skies / 'Cause I get so lost in / Your blueberry eyes / I'm running through my dreams to / See you in the light / 'Cause I get so lost in / Your blueberry eyes

Sunlight streamed into Gabriel’s eyes from the windows, waking him from a deep sleep. He blinked, momentarily unaware of where he was or what he was doing. He prepared himself to sit up and orient himself but stopped short when he realized there was a weight on his chest. Still blinking through his sleepiness, he recognized the pool of black hair and pale skin curled against his body. Memories of the day before flooded Gabriel’s mind; of wedding vows and dancing, gold skirts and wedding runes. Wedding runes. Gabriel turned his head and looked at his left forearm. A new, glistening black rune stared back at him, one he’d never thought he’d wear and had yet to get used to. His eyes trailed up toward his chest beside Cecily’s head, where the other wedded union rune had been carefully placed the night before. Blankets were tangled around them, soft golden curtains strewn closed around the bed in a secluded paradise. Finally, aware of his surroundings, Gabriel turned back to his wife in his arms. He slowly trailed his fingers along her bare back, admiring her in sleep. Her body fit so perfectly against his that he had begun to believe the stories of soulmates, and of missing puzzle pieces. Her soft pink lips were parted in content sleep; her hair spilled around her face like a painting. Scars from faded Marks dotted her skin, but Gabriel’s eyes were drawn to the edges of the matching rune to his against her collarbone. “How long do you plan to stare?” Cecily mumbled against his skin, stirring awake. Gabriel only smiled fondly at her. “For the rest of my life, I think.” A soft smile grew on her face. Her eyelashes fluttered before she opened her eyes. She looked up at him, blinking sleepy blue eyes, her chin planted in the dip of his shoulder. Gabriel’s fingers froze against her back, losing himself in her eyes, before she laughed and pressed her lips against his shoulder. “Earth to Gabriel,” she said. “What are you thinking?” “That I must still be dreaming,” he whispered. Cecily paused for a moment before she slowly lifted her arm and trailed her fingers against the rune over his heart. “You’re not dreaming.” She pressed another kiss against his shoulder, beginning a trail of kisses up his neck and against his jaw. Gabriel’s eyes fluttered shut, wanting to remember the feeling. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten last night already,” she added with a tease. His eyes flew open again, scanning over their tangled sheets and bodies. “Absolutely not,” he replied, meeting her eyes once more. Gabriel was unsure what happened then, but the moment he met her eyes again, he could see the rest of his life before him. Patrolling and adventuring together, without a chaperone, making the perfect team. Seeing Cecily’s face supporting him in Clave meetings, and the pride in his chest watching her prove her superiority to every other Shadowhunter in Idris and London. Even the sound of the patter of little feet across Lightwood Manor belonging not only to their nieces but their own children and grandchildren.

A ray of light cutting through my shadow / You flipped my life that had been dark / Maybe I'm nothing / Before I met you, I was nobody / I used to mean so little / My life before you was / Only hurrying through the day, yeah / Our days, our nights, okay, our lives / U-A-R-E-M-Y light, friends who support each other, each other’s anchor

“Listen, this is a great idea,” Cecily declared as she dangled from the side of Westminster Abbey from only a thin rope tied loosely around her waist. Gabriel looked up at her hesitantly from the ground, holding with a tight grip the other end of the rope after it wrapped a turret to do whatever he could to prevent her from hurtling to the ground. “I only have great ideas.” “You have dangerous ideas,” Gabriel said under his breath. “I am in a perpetual state of heart attacks.” “I heard that,” she called back, smirking, with a gesture to her enhanced hearing rune. “You always said life with me was exciting. I aim to deliver.” He shook his head, half in resignation and half in fondness for the fearless girl he married. This was not to say he did not enjoy patrolling with Cecily; quite the contrary. Hours alone together meant they could steal kisses without hearing the loud complaints of his now brother-in-law. But patrol was patrol, they were Nephilim, and when Cecily’s pendant lit up as they approached the heart of Parliament Square, it was now purely business. “I’m up,” Cecily called, breaking through Gabriel’s thoughts. “It’s clear, for now. Hurry!” Gabriel did just that, climbing swiftly up after her until his feet were once again planted firmly on even flooring on the roof of the church. The soft red glow of Cecily’s pendant provided just enough light to see her face; determined and fearless as always. Hunting demons with Cecily was starkly different than any other hunting mission or patrol he’d ever done. Will was all jokes and insults; Gideon a man on a mission and someone Gabriel had always trusted without thinking about it. But with Cecily, she was more than a partner. She was his wife and his best friend. There was so much at stake for him now on these patrols, something he’d never considered before. Before her, there was only Shadowhunting. To give his life to the Nephilim young was something he’d always expected. But now, following a demon through the narrow corridors of Westminster Abbey in the dead of night, unseen to any mundane, Gabriel had found a light in his life: someone who made the day worth living, too. Cecily had always been a natural Shadowhunter, but her thrill for the hunt reminded him of why he loved being a Shadowhunter in the first place. They spilled outside, covered in dirt and scratches, but alive with the thrill of another successful hunt. “Do you think they’ll notice that we knocked a plaque off the wall?” Cecily asked, laughing, as she drew her stele from her belt. Gabriel shook his head, chuckling quietly. “With the thousands of other plaques plastered across this building? I think it may be a while.” They were both perfectly capable of drawing iratzes on themselves, but it was their silent expression of love and duty to one another to draw the other’s healing runes. The Wedded Union rune was purely symbolic, but they both liked to believe that their runes were stronger when the other drew it. Cecily drew his first, against his neck. He drew his stele next, lifting his hand to cup her face in his palm to tilt her head and place an iratze on her own neck. He stopped as his skin touched hers. “Are you feeling all right?” he asked, concern flooding his voice as he applied the rune. “You feel warm. Are you flush?” Gabriel looked back into her eyes after finishing the rune, looking closely at her appearance to find any signs of sickness. She only smiled at him and nodded. “I feel fine, bach,” she replied. “You needn’t worry.” He furrowed his eyebrows and brushed his thumb across her cheek. “Are you sure?” “Perfectly,” she breathed. Then: “I’m pregnant.” Gabriel blinked. “You’re pregnant?” he whispered, failing to restrain the hope in his tone. Cecily smiled brightly, her blue eyes shining in the moonlight. “Yes”—she bunched the fabric of his gear jacket in her fist and brought her face close to his— “I’m pregnant, Gabriel. With a baby. Our baby.” He pressed his lips against hers and held her body close to his, pouring every ounce of gratefulness and love into the gesture that he could. They smiled against each other before he finally pulled back and leaned his forehead against hers, staring deep into those blue eyes. There was a time when Gabriel Lightwood had once thought he was incapable of love, receiving or giving. Then came along Cecily Herondale, now Cecily Lightwood, with her name written all over his heart in permanent ink until there was no space left. But there was always more room for love. And Gabriel Lightwood’s heart made room that night for another name.

Kiss you each morning / With strawberry skies / I get so lost in / Your blueberry eyes / I'm running through my dreams to / See you in the light / 'Cause I get so lost in / Your blueberry eyes

Gabriel Lightwood knew before ever opening his eyes what was about to greet him. Soft giggles grew closer to the bed he shared with Cecily accompanied by bursts of little feet pattering across the floor. A quiet “shh” sounded from Gabriel’s side of the bed. He forced himself to withhold his smile, not wanting to spoil his children’s fun. Against him, he felt Cecily shaking gently with concealed laughter. This was not the first time they were to be woken this way, but they’d never complained. In fact, Gabriel hoped he would be woken like this for as long as possible. The next moment, small bodies landed on top of them, giggling and squirming. “Mama! Papa! Time to wake up!” came a loud, small voice. “Wake up!” echoed another voice, followed by more laughter. Little bodies continued to crawl and squirm across the bed and his body. It was growing harder and harder for Gabriel to hide his joy. “Papa!” came the first voice again, right above his face. Gabriel’s eyes flew open and he shot forward, grabbing his daughter and hugging her close, peppering her face with kisses. “Anna!” he shouted back as he did so, fighting playfully against her squirming as she laughed and laughed.

Cecily shot up beside him and caught their son in her arms. He shouted in surprise but did not fight against his mother’s embrace. Instead, he melted into her arms and grinned happily. “Mornin’ Mama,” he said. “Good morning, Christopher, my love,” Cecily answered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head full of brown curls.

Anna continued to squirm against Gabriel’s grip, being more energetic at five years old than her brother. “Mama, Papa, may we play in the park today? Please?” Gabriel smiled at his daughter and son, who pleaded with him with wide eyes and chubby cheeks. He looked up at Cecily, who wore the same face as their children. “I have a meeting with your uncles this morning, but how about a picnic for lunch? You may play after you eat. Does that sound like fun?” Anna and Christopher immediately nodded and flashed toothy smiles. Cecily reached across Gabriel to pull Anna into her arms so that she held both their children in her grasp. “And that, my loves, gives us plenty of time to get into trouble, doesn’t it?” she schemed, squishing her face against theirs. It was then, in the midst of their scheming, that Gabriel caught all three of their mischievous eyes, crinkled up in amusement and excitement as they cuddled together beside him.

He could only smile, and smile, and smile at them; his wife, his daughter, and his son. His family. And Gabriel Lightwood would always get lost in their blueberry eyes.

#gabrily #gabriel lightwood #cecily herondale #gabriel lightwood x cecily herondale #gabriel x cecily #tid #tsc #tlh #anna lightwood #christopher lightwood #the infernal devices #the last hours #the shadowhunter chronicles #cecily lightwood #tsccreatersnet

[livia-dovehallow]

Little Ella Herondale’s Adventures

a sort-of spin off of my “of great use” series for @lucieblckthorn!! hope you enjoy!!

1905

Elizabeth Herondale was two years old when she saw the training room for the first time.

Granted, no one had brought her there to see it. Ella simply followed the sound of clanging metal, intrigued, until she waddled through the doorway and giggled at the sight of her sister. Lucie, who until that point had nearly beaten their cousin Christopher in sparring, dropped her short sword. “Ella!” she shouted. She rushed over and lifted Ella off the ground and immediately away from the walls lined with a variety of sharp, dangerous objects. Lucie huffed and stepped into the hall. “Papa!”

Will Herondale sauntered into the hall from the library, his nose stuck in a book. “Yes, Lulu?”

Lucie cleared her throat, which prompted her father to look up at her. He smiled, guilty, when he saw Ella in her arms. Lucie raised her eyebrow. “I know it has been a while since you’ve had a toddler, Papa,” Lucie scolded. “But letting them wander about the Institute where there are sharp objects and stairs about is particularly frowned upon.”

Will walked over quickly and took Ella from Lucie. Ella frowned at her father and attempted to lean back out of his arms. “Lucie!” she called. “I want Lucie!”

“Your sister is busy, Ella,” Will cooed, wrangling her. He looked up at his elder daughter, who still had her scolding face on. She looked so very much like her mother, then. “Why don’t we go see if there are still lemon tarts in the kitchen, hm?”

Christopher burst into the hall. “There are lemon tarts?”

Lucie groaned. That was the end of training that day, and Ella got to stay with Lucie after all.

1906

When Elizabeth Herondale was three years old, her brother James took her to Hyde Park.

She squirmed in his arms, pouting, until he relented and let her down onto the grass. “Don’t run from me Ella,” he said gently. “Stay close.”

Ella immediately ran off, toward the bustling crowd of children playing in the large field of grass. She’d never seen so many children her age before. Her cousin Alex decided he was too old to play with her anymore. Before she could reach the crowd, James hauled her back up into his arms. “What did I say?” he asked, though he sounded more concerned than angry. Ella blinked at him, her wide pale eyes she shared with Lucie visibly weakening James’s resolve. “I cannot glamour you,” he sighed. “So, we must be careful, okay?”

A laugh sounded behind them, and Ella leaned over her brother’s shoulder to find the source. Cordelia stood with an amused smile. “A true Herondale,” she teased.

James turned and smiled. Ella waved her small hand at Cordelia, and the other girl waved back. “Daisy,” Ella giggled. “I want to play.”

Cordelia placed her hand softly on James’s cheek. “Let her play,” she said to him softly. “Ella has no Marks. She will not draw unwanted attention.”

James frowned. “But we have Marks. We can’t glamour because Ella can’t glamour, and I suspect that a lonely toddler in the middle of Hyde Park would draw unwanted attention.”

Cordelia rolled her eyes and opened her arms. Ella threw herself at her out of James’s grip, prompting a startled shout from him. “I will take her to play, then,” Cordelia said. “And you may sit here, sulking, if you so desire.”

Ella squealed as she buzzed across the grass with the other children. Every so often she would catch her brother frowning at her, but then Daisy would say something, and her brother would be happy again. She never understood why James kept touching Daisy’s tummy. Maybe she was hungry.

London Institute Fall 1906

Three-year-old Ella stumbled over to the dining room table and pulled at the loose tassels of the cloth that hung over the edges. Lucie, who had been looking through various samples of desserts, grabbed the plates before they went flying.

“Troublemaker,” she mumbled. Ella grinned at her.

“She is too much like your Aunt Cecily,” Will observed calmly from the other side of the table. “Always looking for trouble.”

Tessa raised an eyebrow. “You don’t take any responsibility for that?”

“None at all,” Will declared. Ella laughed and ran from Lucie, who looked like she was about to become the tickle monster, and Ella did not like to be tickled by anyone other than her papa.

The room was adorned in gold, and Ella was particularly interested in the treats just out of her reach from her spot in her father’s lap. Will quickly grabbed a biscuit from one of the plates while her mother was not looking and put it in Ella’s hand. “Shh,” he said, with a mischievous sparkle in his eye.

“Lucie, Aunt Sophie says your dress is ready upstairs. Come along to see if it fits properly,” Tessa said with a bright smile. Lucie’s face brightened and she scrambled up from her seat.

“Ella, do you want to see my dress?” Lucie asked, holding her hand out for her young sister. Ella stared back skeptically.

“Is it shiny?” she asked. Ella did love shiny things. It was also why her mother had the weapons in the training room moved higher on the wall—again.

“Very shiny,” Lucie answered with a nod. “And you get one, too.”

That was enough for Ella. She slipped down off of her father’s lap and grabbed Lucie’s hand, following her and their mother up the stairs. .

“Lucie, you are pretty!” Ella yelled as Lucie emerged from behind the curtain in her gold dress. Lucie smiled brightly at Ella, then turned toward their mother and the rest of the family.

Aunt Sophie beamed. “Oh, I knew it would fit.”

Aunt Cecy and Cousin Anna nodded approvingly. Ella was rather fascinated by the blue waistcoat Anna was wearing but remembered the last time she tried to touch the fabric with her grubby, muddy hands after playing in the garden and decided that the scary look Anna gave her meant no more touching waistcoats.

Daisy emerged from behind Lucie, with Tessa, looking proud. “The future Mrs. Blackthorn, everyone,” she declared. Ella did not know what that meant, but her sister looked very happy, so she was very happy, too.

Ella stood and walked over to Lucie. She knew better than to tug on the shiny dress, but Lucie looked down, so there was no need to fight for attention anyway. “Ella,” her mother said, interrupting Ella’s thoughts—she was going to say something to her sister, but now she forgot. She turned to her mother with a confused face. “Are you excited for the wedding?”

Ella stared blankly. She did not know what a wedding was.

The women laughed. Aunt Cecy lifted Ella into her arms and poked her nose. “Do you remember Jesse?”

Ella grinned and nodded. She did remember Jesse. He had dark hair, like her, and he never said no when she asked him to go on an adventure in the garden with her. She liked Jesse.

“Well, your sister is marrying him, which means he will be your brother, too.”

Ella’s face returned to confusion. “Jamie my brother,” she said.

There was another wave of laughs, and Ella scowled. She did not like being laughed at. But Aunt Cecy smiled kindly. “Yes, he is. But Jesse will be, too. It will make sense when you are older.”

Older. Ella did not like that word.

There was a knock at the door, and Ella heard her papa’s voice. “Am I permitted to enter?”

A chorus of no’s rang out, but Ella shouted happily, “Papa!”

“You know the rules, Will,” her mother called through the closed door. “And don’t think we don’t know that James and Jesse are with you. We can see your shadows under the door.”

“How did you know it was me?” James answered. “I could have been Matthew, or Kit, or Thomas. Maybe I’m Uncle Gabriel.”

“Your Uncle Gabriel is in Idris with Uncle Gideon,” Aunt Cecy called. “But nice try.”

There was poorly-stifled laughter from the hall. “All right,” Will called, defeated. “But we’ve come to tell you that there may no longer be any desserts in the dining room when you return.”

Ella was sad about that.

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#will herondale #tessa gray #wessa #lucie herondale #james herondale #cordelia carstairs #jesse blackthorn #cecily herondale #sophie collins #ella herondale #non canon #fic request #tsccreatenet #tsccreatersnet

[livia-dovehallow]

“you’re sweet on her” - Gideon & Gabriel Lightwood

takes place after the residents of the London Institute go through the Portal to Cadair Idris in CP2

The only light in the tunnel beamed from the Lightwood brothers; a witchlight in each of their left hands, a sword in their right. It was eerily silent; no sign of any life, or automaton, or even furniture anywhere. There had been several tunnels branching from the large room that Gabriel, Gideon, Sophie, Cecily, Charlotte, Henry, Bridget, Cyril, and Magnus Bane had Portaled outside of. It was with dread that Gabriel realized they would all need to split up: Charlotte and Henry, Magnus, Sophie and Cecily, Bridget and Cyril, and Gabriel and Gideon.

Gideon turned to him as soon at they split from Sophie and Cecily with a look of both pride and absolute terror. Gabriel felt for his brother; Gideon had just watched his future wife venture into an unknown mountain with only a few months of training. A feeling, Gabriel acknowledged and then deeply surpressed, he shared all too well. They walked further into the tunnel, finding it even more dark and silent the longer they walked. “So,” Gideon whispered, breaking the uneasy peace. “You’re sweet on Cecily. I did not see that coming.”

Gabriel nearly dropped his witchlight. He stared at his brother, stammering. “What?”

Gideon smiled, amused, which seemed so out of place in the dark, potentially lethal cave. They stood side by side, quickly but carefully checking every doorway and window for any sight of their fellow Institute inhabitants. “Oh, don’t bother denying it. You fancy Cecily Herondale. You are terrible at hiding your emotions, Gabriel.”

“And what of it, then, if I do?” Gabriel clipped. He pressed his back to the stone, waiting for Gideon to check the corridor for any signs of life. He could not believe they were having this conversation. “That hardly seems important right now.”

Gideon stepped through the next opening and gestured for Gabriel to follow. He did, and turned to cover his brother’s back. “It is important,” Gideon said, just as quietly as he had before. Gabriel noticed that despite the definite expansiveness of Cadair Idris, their voices did not echo. 

They fell into a silent agreement. Gabriel’s thoughts filled, then, with the sudden fear that Gideon was right. He would care if something happened to Cecily. He would care quite a lot.

The silence broke again with the sound of a startled scream. Gideon whirled around and looked at Gabriel with wide, terrified eyes. “Sophie.”

They ran, faster than he could remember ever running, toward the sound. 

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#gabrily #gabriel lightwood #gideon lightwood #cecily herondale #sophie collins #the infernal devices #clockwork princess #tsc #tid #cp2 #tsccreatersnet #tsccreatenet

[livia-dovehallow]

the long ride back - Cecily Herondale

“I will drive for you. It will be little trouble; Bailos and Xanthos know the way. Henry can drive the Lightwoods.” -Will to Jem, CP2, p. 55

Takes place after the battle at Chiswick House against Benedict Lightworm, in which Will takes the Institute carriage back with Jem and Tessa and Cecily is left to ride with the Lightwoods.

“We could take you with us, Tati, to the Institute—“

“No,” Tatiana snapped. “You will take me to the Blackthorns’.” Cecily sat silent across from Tatiana Blackthorn, perturbed by the way Tatiana acted. She was still dressed in her blood soaked gown, and Cecily decided she was better off staring out the window of the Lightwoods’ carriage and pretending she was not present for the current Lightwood sibling tension. That bastard, Will, leaving her on the steps of Chiswick House to ride back with all the Lightwoods. 

Gideon tensed beside her, but it was Gabriel who responded. “Henry!” he called out the other window. “May we make a stop in Kensington, please? My sister wishes to be left with the Blackthorns.”

It took much of Cecily’s remaining energy not to groan, being forced to spend even more time in that awkward carriage. Gabriel Lightwood had helped her to her feet in the garden, and complimented her, and yet she might as well have been sitting on the top of the carriage for all anyone paid attention to her now. She supposed she could not blame them, though, as their father had just died and Tatiana’s husband was dead. She just wished she was anywhere else but there. It felt like such an intrusion; perhaps she would attempt to climb out the window to ride with Henry instead—

“Miss Herondale?” 

Cecily snapped out of her self pity and turned. Gideon Lightwood was looking at her quizzically. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she answered, folding her hands demurely in her lab. It felt strange, too, to be sitting in a carriage full of people she was not related to, and while wearing trousers, her hands bare. “Don’t mind me.”

Tatiana seemed to take her statement to heart, as she returned to her lamenting about the family name, and how she was going to break the news to her husband’s family. As hysterical and dramatic as she might have been, Cecily truly could not imagine doing just that. Gabriel, who was also soaked in blood, attempted to quell Tatiana’s nerves, but it was proving fruitless. How could Gideon and Gabriel possibly be related to her, Cecily wondered. 

She returned to her quiet staring of the passing city. She’d never gone through Chiswick or Kensington before. Will had only taken her to the major locations in London that were near to the Institute. It was strange, she noted, to see so many buildings and people everywhere; and it was so gray. The bickers of the Lightwood siblings blended into the sounds of the city as they rode.

The carriage pulled to a halt in front of rather modest looking Victorian townhome. Why Tatiana would rather stay here than in the large expanse of the Institute, Cecily did not want to bother to ask. 

“I will take her to the door,” Gideon said quietly, hopping out the door opposite where Cecily sat. After a moment, the door on Cecily’s side opened and Gideon lifted his hand to help his sister exit. Her face was pinched in distaste, but she took it and left the carriage. The door to the manor opened, and Tatiana immediately returned to hysterics and bolted to the door, Gideon hurrying after her. 

“I’m sorry about my sister,” Gabriel Lightwood said tonelessly. He sat across from her, his face lowered, now, to look at his hands that were still stained red. “She is not one to handle shock quietly.”

Cecily turned to him. She understood, without needing to be told, that Gideon had taken Tatiana to the door because he was not the brother covered in blood. She heard the shrieks of several people as more surely saw the state of Tatiana’s dress and lack of Rupert Blackthorn. “I believe it is I who should apologize to you,” she replied evenly. She was unsure what to do with her hands; she had never been left alone in a carriage with a boy who was not her brother before. “I feel as if I’ve been intruding on such private family matters. Perhaps I should go ride with Henry.”

Gabriel looked up at her and frowned, but Gideon threw open the carriage door before he could answer. “Gracious,” Gideon exclaimed and plopped down beside his brother. “I don’t think I could stand there another second. I cannot imagine the grief they must be going through.”

“I can,” Gabriel muttered, then turned to face the window and did not speak again. Cecily bit her lip. She could still ride with Henry—

The carriage began moving again. She closed her eyes and hoped that the ride from Kensington back to Fleet Street was not a long one. 

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#cecily herondale #gabriel lightwood #gideon lightwood #tatiana blackthorn #gabrily #canon expansion #the infernal devices #clockwork princess #tsc #tid #cp2 #tsccreatersnet #tsccreatenet #cassandra clare

[livia-dovehallow]

New story time! Originally published last month as a quiet addition to my Gabrily universe. Read chapters 1 and 2 now on AO3! || @tsccreatorsnet Universe: The Shadowhunter Chronicles; The Infernal Devices Ship: Cecily Herondale x Gabriel Lightwood (Gabrily) Summary: As if fighting an army of demon automatons wasn't enough stress in Gabriel Lightwood's life, he has found himself falling drastically in love with one Cecily Herondale. Follow Gabriel and Cecily through their courtship, including meeting the parents, one ill-fated outing along the Tower of London, and, of course, the ever-persistent Will Herondale, doing his best to ensure that Gabriel Lightwood is the best match for his sister.

#gabrily #cecily herondale #gabriel lightwood #will herondale #tessa gray #gideon lightwood #sophie collins #tsc #tid #tsccreatersnet