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Anna Lightwood did not like to make a habit of helping people.
For one, it continually seemed to place her in a situation that was either a) uncomfortable, b) slightly awkward—not for her, of course, but for the individual she would be helping—and c) troublesome.
(Though, that didn’t mean she didn’t end up in those situations anyways.)
She remained unbothered, floating through life with no strings attached to anyone much at all, having learnt her lesson with Ariadne. With the exception of her family, of course.
For her family, she would do anything.
1.
Anna was taking a stroll through the London Institute, after arriving with her mother, father and Christopher—something about her mother needing “girl time” with Aunt Tessa, and her father needing to berate Uncle Will for stealing his carriage, for the umpteenth time.
She didn’t know where Christopher was, but she had an inkling that he was beneath her, in the basement that was known priorly as Henry’s workshop. Christopher practically had a fit anytime he went anywhere near the place, as it was so stuffed with inventions and goodies for him to blow up. Anna shook her head ruefully at the thought.
As for herself, she was currently examining a portrait of the original occupants of the Institute, who consisted of Tessa, Will, Uncle Jem, her father and mother, Uncle Gideon and Aunt Sophie, Henry and Charlotte, and Jessamine, the ghost which floated through the Institute halls similar, to what Anna was doing now.
Vaguely in the distance, she heard a groan that was so intense and downtrodden that it must have been one of the teenagers occupying the Institute, and judging from the pitch, most likely her cousin Lucie.
She wandered in the direction of where the noise had emitted, and came to a halt at the large double doors of the library, the room which was favoured most by the Herondales. Anna pushed the door open, and came upon the sight of Lucie’s legs, poking out from underneath the desk.
Lucie appeared to be rooting around for something underneath, which explained the out of ordinary position, at least. She was huffing and sighing an awful lot, sounding frustrated.
“Hallo, Luce,” Anna said, walking up behind her. Lucie startled, hitting her head on the desk above, and swearing in a fashion that would’ve made most mothers go blue in the face. Luckily, Tessa wasn’t most mothers.
“Oh! Anna!” Lucie said, removing herself from her position under the desk, and crossed her legs, sitting on the floor. She blew a piece of brown hair out of her face that had come out of her intricate braid. “What’re you doing here?”
“Mother and father came to visit,” Anna said absently, looking at the scattered papers and inks across the desk Lucie had clearly been writing at. “Thought I’d come along to see my favourite cousins.”
Lucie gave her a cheeky grin, and cast her glance to underneath the desk again. Anna noticed the look, and asked: “What exactly were you doing, there?”
She let out a forlorn sigh. “Well, you see, my favourite pen is missing, and I could have sworn it had rolled under there earlier. So I paused my writing to hunt for it, but I simply cannot find it anywhere.”
“Sounds serious,” Anna said, seriously.
“It is!” Lucie made a frustrated gesture with her hands. “I cannot write without my favourite pen, and I was in the middle of writing my book for Cordelia, and—oh, this is just a massive excuse for not writing, Anna. I’m stuck on a writer’s block, which are, quite literally, the worst things ever, and I keep finding reasons to try and not continue.”
She said all of this very fast, taking a deep breath at the end, as she had not breathed once during the expulsion of her anger.
“Hm,” Anna said, tapping her hand to her lip and starting to pace slowly around the room. Lucie was clearly in a state of distress, and considering Anna had nothing else to do… “I could help you find some inspiration. I know a few places that would definitely spark some ideas.”
Lucie’s face lit up. “Oh, would you Anna? That would be so wonderful! Let me grab my coat, I’ll be with you in less than two minutes!”
She tore from the room like a whirlwind, and Anna chuckled.
They ended up headed towards the marketplace first, Anna holding her arm out like a gentleman for Lucie to hold.
“This, Lucie,” Anna said, gesturing with her other hand. “Is Borough Market.”
The market was bustling with activity already, though it was early in the day. There were colourful stalls set up everywhere, selling everything from toffee apples to specialist coffee to hundreds of different types of cheese.
“Oh, Anna,” Lucie said, walking around in the main forum and looking up. “It’s wonderful.”
They visited many of the odd stalls, Lucie buying knick knacks and exclaiming loudly over the odd things she’d bought, claiming that they were fine pieces of inspiration. The busy, crowded nature of the market gave her a few ideas as well, she said to Anna, taking out a pen and scribbling them down on her hand.
Eventually they sat down at one of the benches, which had finally been freed up, eating frilly pancakes and licking syrup off their fingers in a very undignified fashion. Anna felt the eyes of a young brunette woman, about her age, on her as she sucked the syrup off of one of her fingers, and made eye contact whilst doing so, winking. The girl went crimson and giggled.
Lucie laughed loudly at the display. “You’re such a tease, Anna!”
Anna grinned at her, and Lucie scribbled something that looked like “dashing rogue” into her hand. “You’ve just earned a cameo in my story.”
They next visited Knightsbridge, taking a taxi to where the tall, beautiful white buildings towered over them. Lucie looked on them with a critical eye, examining the fine details, and looking as if she were mentally pinning them to a board to remember.
“Cordelia would adore it here,” She told Anna, as they crossed the street into Hyde Park. “She’s very interested in architecture and the like—I’ll bring her here when she arrives.”
Anna had heard a lot about Cordelia, and had to say she was looking forward to meeting her. Anyone who Lucie liked that much must be good.
Lucie and Anna finally came to a halt at Kensington Palace, and admired the beautiful gardens and palace from a distance.
“This would fit perfectly with the royalty element to my story,” Lucie said, mostly to herself, and then to Anna: “Thank you so much for today. Sitting in a library for ages wasn’t going to get me anywhere, and I feel so ready to write and tell a story now.”
“No problem at all Lucie,” Anna said, smiling down at her. “Always happy to help.”
(Anna was the first to receive the final draft of The Beautiful Cordelia, after Cordelia, of course.)
2.
Cordelia Carstairs was a fascinating girl.
She seemed a gentle sort of girl, when you first met her, but underneath that calm was a fierceness that rivaled that of her mother. She was also very beautiful, a fact that Anna hadn’t failed to miss when she’d first arrived in London.
Her hair was lush, and a deep red colour that matched mahogany, and her face was very elegant, soft but sharp simultaneously. Her skin a dark brown, and her eyes a dark coffee. She carried the Carstairs family sword, Cortana, strapped to her back.
A flash of sorrow had flitted across both Tessa and Will’s faces when they had seen the golden sword, and Anna knew they were thinking of Uncle Jem.
Lucie and Cordelia were immediately all over each other, giggling and laughing and talking all hours. Being best friends and parabatai with Lucie granted her access to their family and friend group, but the problem Cordelia seemed to be having was fitting in.
Matthew, unlike any time Anna had seen him interact with others, seemed to be putting on a cold front, and Anna guessed this was most likely because he was jealous of her grabbing Lucie’s—whom Anna had noticed held Matthew’s unreturned affections—attention, as well as James, who seemed to be quietly curious about the new girl.
There was also the factor that she was sisters with James’s and Matthew’s sworn enemy, Alastair Carstairs, which was bound to make things slightly awkward. Anna didn’t quite know what to think of Alastair. He seemed very angry and very frustrated all the time, which Anna suspected was his defensive nature—to be offensive.
Thomas and Christopher seemed to not be too bothered by the new girl, Thomas, she noticed, a little more interested in her brother. Barbara and Eugenia held themselves above the childish nature of the friend group, isolating themselves with baby Alexander, fancying themselves mothers, so Cordelia wouldn’t have seen much of them.
Charles, who was the one person Anna treated cooler than the rest—not his fault, but the memories than accompanied his face were sometimes too much to bear—didn’t seem at all interested in Cordelia, but rather in discussing politics with her brother.
Anna decided it was time to intervene, and help Cordelia enter the group properly, because she was going to end up becoming family.
So she invited her to tea.
Cordelia seemed slightly wary as she entered Anna’s flat on Percy Street, but her face melted into wonder as she took in Anna’s decorations.
She took pride in her house, and filled it to the brim with china ornaments, small beautiful paintings, large oak furniture, and clothes. The wallpaper was striped, and a large ornamental mirror hung on one wall of the parlour.
“This is a beautiful house,” Cordelia said, her words accented. She continued to look around, occasionally reaching out to touch the odd thing.
Anna headed towards the kitchen, and placed the kettle over the stove. “What do you take with your tea?”
“Just black, please.”
Once the kettle had been boiled, and tea leaves thoroughly soaked, Anna placed the antique teapot and two sets of cups and saucers out on the table. She nodded to Cordelia, gesturing at the chair across from her, and Cordelia sat, arranging her lacy skirts, her posture impeccable.
Anna didn’t have the problem of corsets and many layers, she wore tweed pants and a silky gentleman’s robe, of which she was very fond. She had noticed Cordelia eyeing it when she’d walked in, but not in a disdainful fashion. She’d looked appreciative that Anna was loudly herself.
“So, Cordelia,” Anna said, pouring her tea. “How are you finding London?”
“It’s very wet,” Cordelia said, wrinkling her nose. “But otherwise enjoyable. I’d rather to be where Lucie is, over hot weather.”
Anna laughed at her honesty, pleasantly surprised. “It’s true that we can’t say much for weather conditions. But it makes for excellent indoor games and reading with family.”
Cordelia inclined her head in agreement. She seemed to shift a little at the mention of family, and Anna saw her opportunity to open the conversation she had been hoping for.
“Speaking of family, I had noticed that it was, how shall I put this,” Anna considered, whilst pouring milk into her own cup. “A tad difficult for you to fully enter the circle of our friends. Of which I don’t blame you at all—some people in the family can be very closed off.”
“And?” Cordelia said, her expression giving nothing away, but her hands tightening fractionally on her cup admitting that she knew she was struggling.
“I want to help you,” Anna said, leaning forward, speaking earnestly. “And not: I want to help you for my own benefit, I want to help you because I help my family. Of which you are now a part of.”
Cordelia’s eyes widened slightly, and her lips curled into a bright smile. “You would do that?”
“Of course,” Anna gave her a smile back. “Now, what we have to do is introduce you into the group by using common interest. Can you think of anything you like that the others might?”
Cordelia thought for a moment. “Doesn’t Thomas speak a little Farsi as well?”
Anna grinned. “Bingo.”
They approached Thomas and Lucie the next day, whilst they were studying from a language book in the library.
What was it with the people in this Institute and the library? Anna thought, as she dragged a chair from a nearby table up to Thomas and Lucie’s, making a rather large amount of noise that made them both look up.
“Cordelia will be joining your Farsi lesson today,” Anna announced, nodding for Cordelia to sit. She did, and Lucie looked delighted.
“This is wonderful! You can correct our pronunciation, I’m sure it’s horrible,” Lucie said, scooting her chair to the side to make room between her and Thomas.
“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Cordelia laughed lowly, and then gave a small wave to Thomas. “Salâm, Thomas.”
Thomas looked pleased, if not a little flustered. “Salâm, Cordelia.”
They all started talking right away, Lucie asking Cordelia to test her and Thomas, Thomas mock-begging her to not judge them on how passable they were at the language.
Anna left them to it for a few hours, and when Cordelia knocked on the Institute parkour door, where Anna was dangling a cigar loosely from her hands and reading the newspaper, she was glowing.
“So?” Anna asked.
“It went so well!” Cordelia gushed. “Having Lucie there made it better, but I feel as if I really connected with Thomas. He’s so sweet!”
“He is,” Anna agreed, pleased that her plan had worked.
“He also kept asking about my brother,” Cordelia said, frowning slightly and flopping into an armchair across from her, folding her legs. “I feel like a lot of people here don’t like him. Should I be worried?”
Anna let out a bark of laughter. “Cordelia, darling, I assure you that you don’t have to worry about Alastair, at least where Thomas is concerned.”
The next person to tackle was Christopher, which was relatively easy.
Anna told Cordelia to help him with an experiment, and an hour later she emerged from the basement, her face covered in soot, but grinning broadly, her teeth starkly white against her face. “He said I have a very good grasp on the architectural aspect of mechanics. Is that good?”
“From my brother, that’s the best you could get,” Anna said, handing her a tissue she had brought in preparation. Cordelia wiped the grime off her face.
The next day they approached Barbara and Eugenia, which was also relatively easy. Cordelia spoke about the different frocks she’d brought from Persia, and played with baby Alexander. Eugenia, unbeknownst to Anna, was actually quite interest in swordsmanship, and gushed over Cortana for a solid fifteen minutes.
Charles, Anna didn’t bother with.
Matthew was tricky. She knew he felt wary about Cordelia, and Cordelia felt wary in turn because of this. This could be easily resolved, as Anna thought their personalities were quite compatible, the trick was to find something that they could both discuss easily.
“Are you interested in flamboyant fashion, perchance?” Anna questioned, deep in thought, making a mental checklist of Matthew’s interest.
Cordelia made a face.
“Dogs?” She was grasping at straws now, thinking of Mr. Oscar Wilde. “Oscar Wilde?”
“I do like the poetry books that Lucie sent me,” Cordelia said, thoughtfully. “I believe one of those was Oscar Wilde?”
“Perfect,” Anna said.
She watched from a distance as Cordelia approached Matthew, sitting down in the soft grass next to him. They were all in St. James’s Park, Christopher under the tree with Barbara, Eugenia and Alexander, James with Lucie and Thomas.
From afar, it looked terribly awkward, at least at first. Matthew wasn’t trying to hide his coldness, which was an odd and rare look for him. After some stilted conversation though, Cordelia said something that made Matthew cock his head to the side in interest. Soon, their conversation started to flow, and while they walked back towards the Institute, Matthew kept beside Cordelia, chatting away.
“He’s actually very funny,” Cordelia grinned whilst conferring with Anna. “He told me lots of embarrassing stories about you when you were younger.”
“Matthew may wake tomorrow finding most of his wardrobe having gone walkabout,” Anna said, decisively. “But I’m happy that you two finally bonded.”
The last person to have Cordelia become friendly with, and officially integrate into the group as a result, was James.
James was already friendly with Cordelia, so as a result, Anna decided to switch things up and play it at a different angle.
“They already know you’re friendly,” she explained. “But what you don’t want is for them to think that you’re too soft. That’s Thomas’s role in the group.”
“Seems unfair to underestimate him.”
Anna waved her hand. “It was a joke, darling. Moving on—You need to show everyone that you’re a fighter. That you’re tough.”
“How do you know I’m a fighter?” Cordelia said wryly, raising an eyebrow.
Anna scoffed. “Please. As soon as you walked in with that sword strapped to your back, I knew exactly what sort of a person you were. And it wasn’t a soft one.”
“Alright,” She said, drawing herself up, and unconsciously touching the hilt of Cortana, which was strapped to her shoulder. “How do we do that?”
“James,” Cordelia asked sweetly, while they were in the library later. Anna was starting to become sick of this place. “I was wondering if you could show me a few moves with the seraph blade? I heard you were a very accomplished fighter and I wanted to practice my sword fighting.”
James blinked up at her, clearly pleased at having his ego stroked. “Why, Cordelia, of course!”
He jumped up, perhaps a tad too eagerly. Anna coughed, abruptly, to hide her snicker.
James glanced over at her, concerned. “Are you alright, Anna?”
“Fine, Jamie,” Anna said, airily. “Is anyone else going to want to watch James train Cordelia, or are we all going to lie around here like sloths?”
“I’d like to see this,” Matthew volunteered, shutting his book and standing up to join them.
“I, too, would like to see Cordelia best James,” Thomas said, grinning mischievously.
“Hold on now, we’re not competing,” James laughed the comment off.
“Are we not?” Cordelia said, her big brown eyes widening innocently.
James couldn’t seem to grasp the construction of words. “Uh…”
Anna couldn’t hold back her snort this time, and went into a coughing fit to cover it up.
“You certain that you’re feeling alright, Anna?” Christopher asked absently, wiring two circuits together.
“Peachy,” Anna said, fighting back a smile.
Once they had both changed into gear, the small group gathered in the training room, elbowing each other and giggling like a gaggle of kids—which, Anna supposed, they were—Barbara and Eugenia joining them out of curiosity.
Cordelia stood, holding Cortana, looking like the embodiment of the word fierce. James held a long seraph aloft, lit after he’d whispered the name to it.
“Shall we start with a simple few sequences?” James asked her.
Cordelia considered this. “Why don’t we start with a warmup spar?”
“Sounds good to me,” James nodded. “I’ll go easy on you, don’t worry.”
“How sweet,” she mused, smiling.
They raised their blades, both of their stances impeccable and strong. They regarded each other for a moment, then James leaned in, stepping out with his left foot, and gave a swipe of his blade.
Cordelia blocked it easily, both of their blades clanging after making contact, and swiftly struck back multiple times with Cortana, making James startle and deflect with his seraph blade quickly.
He looked at Cordelia, as if he were just seeing her in a new light, and was caught off guard once again when she struck out in a perfect sweep.
They battled for a few minutes, seeming equally matched apart from a few moments when Cordelia would almost get the better of him, but he’d deflect back at the last minute.
Finally, though, Cordelia managed to disarm him with a twist and flick of Cortana, sweeping her leg out to trip him up, causing him to fall backward into his back, and ending up in a position where she was standing over him, pointing her sword at his neck, while he looked up at her in incredulity.
Everyone watching was silent, their expressions of comic shock.
They held that position for a moment, before Cordelia slid Cortana back into its sheath on her back, and held out a hand for James to take.
“I’m going to have to stop underestimating you,” James said, grinning, and taking her hand, hauling himself up.
“I apologise for pulling the wool over your eyes,” Cordelia said, laughing. “But you were a very formidable opponent.”
James laughed as well, and Anna caught a glimpse of a slight flush to Cordelia’s face, that was not from exertion. “Well, I apologise for being condescending. Let’s give it up for Cordelia Carstairs, everyone!”
He led everyone into applause, and they all whooped and cheered her. She gave a slight bow, giggling at the antics of them.
“Welcome to the family, Ms. Carstairs,” Matthew said, with exaggerated gestures, and pulled her into a group hug, along with everyone else, the others squawking and laughing at being squashed together, Anna included.
Thank you, Cordelia mouthed at Anna, who winked in response.
3.
It was a good thing that Cordelia had “brushed up” on her sword fighting, for a few days later they were called to a demon attack, in a park near Chiswick. The younger members of the Institute had been the only ones present, for the adults, along with Charles, were all out at an evening party with Inquisitor Bridgestock.
Anna wasn’t sure where Alastair was, knowing that he didn’t make it a habit to visit the Institute, much to Thomas’s disappointment.
Everyone scrambled for their gear and weapons, piling into the Institute carriage, leaving only Bridget, the Institute maid, Barbara, Eugenia, and Alexander behind, Alexander too young to be left on his own or brought with, and the Lightwood cousins insisting on taking care of him, leaving Anna as the eldest.
“Who sent the distress signal?” Thomas asked, whilst buckling a belt full of weapons around his waist, in the dim of the carriage.
“I believe it was a Blackthorn,” Cordelia said, frowning. “Grace, I think.”
That name only seemed to have an effect on James, Lucie, Thomas, Christopher and Matthew.
Lucie raised her eyebrows, whilst James’s expression did something wistful and complicated, and he discreetly touched the silver bracelet he wore. Matthew looked concerned and angry at this piece of news, most likely as a result of James’s relationship with this girl, Anna thought. Thomas and Christopher seemed to have similar reactions, Thomas the same as Lucie, and Christopher’s eyes alert in the way they were only alert when he was working on something, or battling something.
What sort of girl was this, to warrant this reaction? Anna puzzled.
Someone who had had an enormous effect on James, it seemed, she thought as the carriage rattled on. If James hadn’t felt the need to tell her, a known trustworthy vault, and Matthew’s reaction was anger, then she must be complicated.
They reached Chiswick in silence, no one speaking after the surprising piece of news of Grace calling for help. After coming to a halt at the head of the park, they tumbled out of the carriage, and a chorus of angels names drifted through the air, seraph blades lighting the dark greenery around them.
“Did she say where the attack was?” Lucie whispered to Cordelia, staying quiet in case of danger of ambush.
Cordelia shook her head. “We’ll have to keep our ears open. Demons are never quiet, unless they’re Eidolons.”
The group of them crept silently through the grass, wandering over hills and paths that seemed to stretch for forever. Anna was thankful for her Night Vision rune, as she wouldn’t have been able to see a thing without it.
Finally, they heard a distant ruckus, the sounds of demons snarling and occasionally, the quiet metallic clink of a weapon.
Anna raced ahead through the trees with Cordelia, coming to a clearing where there was complete chaos. There were demons rampaging, tearing trees up and scarring the earth with their deep claws.
Why weren’t they leaving? Anna thought.
Then she saw the girl.
Grace—presumably—was slashing frantically at the two large, dripping, hissing demons surrounding her. She still somehow managed to retain her elegance whilst in panic though, which Anna admired. From this distance, she was just a silver blur, her grey silky night dress dress torn and filthy, and her feet bare.
Every time one of the demons in the space of greenery would look like they were starting to scuttle away, she would yell hoarsely, grabbing their attention, and they would scramble over to her, probably thinking that she was fresh meat.
It was clever, but it wouldn’t last for long, as the demons would realise what was going on, and then she’d be in trouble.
“Boys,” Anna called to them, and they all started to attention, after gaping at the display before them. “Take the rest of the demons that are in the surroundings. Cordelia, Lucie, with me.”
The boys ran in the opposite direction to them, holding their weapons aloft, and launched into battle with the demons, swishing and swiping their seraph blades in every direction.
Anna skidded down the hill with Cordelia and Lucie by her side, to help aid Grace in battle. Cortana flashed gold in the night, and Lucie’s seraph daggers made a shink sound as she slid them out of their sheaths.
One of the demons turned to Anna as she came into view, and made a noise that sounded like a cross between a growl and a hiss. She raised her eyebrow and her blade in response, and took a step towards it, inviting the demon forward.
In a matter of minutes, she had sliced the demon’s throat, spattering her with a fine spray of a mixture of disgusting demon guts and blood. Anna spared only a second in mourning her hair, then turned swiftly to see if everyone else had been as successful.
She could see James and Matthew finishing the last one off in the distance, having taken down the rest with Chris and Thomas. Cordelia was wiping gore off Cortana onto her gear trousers, and Lucie had just stabbed one in the heart when Anna turned to look at her.
Grace was battling the last one, swiping at it furiously with her weapon—which wasn’t a seraph blade, or angelic for that matter. Interesting. But also almost useless in fighting this type of demon, as angelic blades were essentially the only types of weapons that could send them back to wherever they came from.
Anna ran up behind the demon, which was preoccupied with Grace, and stabbed it through the back. It’s head turned one hundred and eighty degrees, staring at Anna with it’s bulging eyes before bursting apart, again splattering her with goo.
Now that the demon was out of the way, Anna could see Grace properly for the first time. She lowered her seraph blade, not out of her own accord.
Grace’s whole aura seemed to be radiating purity and pliability, as to say take me. Want me. The combination of her smooth, almost angelic face, her luscious silvery hair, and her beautiful eyes, which were two pools that anybody could be swept into.
Her whole purpose was to be a seductive device. But Anna had been through the mill many a time, with innocent girls and cunning girls and girls like were similar to Grace, though not as intense. And there was as well, the fact that she saw a little bit of herself in Grace. She could recognise a heartbreaker anywhere. Her eyes were not lakes to drown in to Anna, but rather mirrors.
Anna could see through her facade like it were her own.
Once she had seen through that aspect of Grace, everything else about her pretense came tumbling down. Anna saw the smudged makeup, the dirt on her face, the bags under her eyes. She saw the leaves in her hair and the straggles that were coming down out of her elaborate updo. Her lovely dress, fitted nicely around her figure, was torn and crumpled from the fighting. Her feet—bare and dirty, her mouth slightly chapped, and her eyes. Desperate.
Anna saw a raw, true, staggeringly beautiful girl.
Grace’s eyes narrowed at her speculative gaze. She was deceptively smart as well—which Anna admired.
What Anna didn’t foresee, was Grace storming towards her, her sword at the ready. She tensed, unsure of what to expect, and was shocked when Grace stuck her sword underneath Anna’s chin, tilting it upward with her blade.
Anna was equally aroused as she was fearful.
“Who are you?” She hissed at Anna, suspiciously. “What do you want?”
Anna lifted her hands into the air, as much as she could with a sword dangerously near her throat. “I’m the Shadowhunter who came to your aid in battle. Shouldn’t that be enough to dismiss me as a threat?”
Grace shook her head impatiently. “I saw your look. I know—why did you help me?”
Anna levelled her gaze with her own. “Because it was the right thing to do.”
Grace’s eyes widened fractionally.
“No one helps me out of the goodness of their hearts,” she said. “It's always for something that they want. So I’ll ask again: what do you want from me?”
“Nothing.” She said, truthfully.
Grace stared at her, as if unable to figure her out.
“Grace!” Yelled Lucie, rudely interrupting the tension-filled moment. “Put that down! She’s a friend!”
Finally, she lowered her sword, and they stared at each other for a moment longer before breaking away towards the group, Anna dismissing worries, Grace apologising graciously, her mask back on for the others.
As they caught up with the boys, and Grace explained what had happened—she’d been out in the garden when she’d heard the screams of a family that were under attack in the park nearby, and she’d picked up the nearest weapon, alerted the Institute with the emergency contact that her adoptive mother kept hidden away—and raced to the park to defend them and slay the demons.
She felt Grace’s gaze drift towards Anna at various points in the story, and Anna meeting her eyes at all times, regarding each other with an emotion Anna wasn’t of.
4.
“Anna, make sure your brother doesn’t blow the Institute up,” her mother said, kissing her on the cheek goodbye, then hurrying out of the Institute doors in a flurry of skirts. Her father waved his umbrella at her before jogging after her in the pouring rain.
She sighed, tilting her head back in exasperation at being left to babysit her brother. Why was she here again?
Ah yes, because she had nothing better to do.
This week had been a bit of a bore, if she was being honest. There were only so many times you could go to the same bar or club and pick up a girl.
It had become sort of a routine, which Anna despised. She was falling back into bad habits, and it wasn’t good. Anna needed genuine friends that weren’t the type to fall away from her once she stopped being a convenience, the type that would stick by her for life.
She was coming to the Institute more often as a result, and she wasn’t sure if that was positive or negative. Anna was meant to be the independent rogue of the family, with her own flat that she rented herself, and her blase nature. But could she maintain that life and not distance herself from her family?
A loud crashing noise shook her out of her internal crisis, causing her to jump.
Following the noise was a loud, distressed wall of someone that sounded as if they had made an ignominious mistake, or was going into labour. Anna guessed, considering the setting, that it was the former.
She started to stride towards the sound, as from the sound of it, someone was in serious distress. Anna took the stone steps two at a time, her heeled boots making a sound not dissimilar to a horse’s hooves against the polished granite. The sound had come from one of the upstairs rooms, so she poked her head inside each of the rooms along the long carpeted corridor.
Finally, Anna peeled into the upstairs private parlour, a room usually occupied by the elder Lightwood cousins and Anna’s little brother.
All three persons, were in fact, present. They were also all utterly silent, staring in horror at a decorated vase knew well, as Charlotte, the previous head, had presented it as a wedding gift to Will and Tessa. So not only was it a treasured gift, it was also most likely extremely old, and extremely expensive.
Said vase was currently smashed to pieces, and scattered all over the ground.
Anna’s stomach dropped.
Barbara let out a low, distressed whine upon seeing Anna. “I just… was playing with him… and reached to turn on the lamp…”
Eugenia whimpered. “They’re never going to let us into the Institute again.”
“Alright,” Anna raked a hand through her hair, distressed. “Alright, let’s all calm down.”
“They won’t let us near Alexander again!” Barbara cried. “We’re horrible, irresponsible adults.”
Eugenia have a sob at that, Barbara joining her in weeping, and Anna’s patience began to fray. She clapped her hands suddenly, and they both startled, their cried tapering off.
“What we’re doing first is taking Alexander out of here,” Anna said, plucking her little brother up into her arms.
Alexander kicked his legs and flailed his arms joyfully, glad to be in his sister’s arms for once. She didn’t usually make a habit of it, as she wasn’t like Eugenia or Barbara. Anna loved her brother, she just wasn’t a very… baby-person.
“Amma!” Alexander exclaimed. It was difficult for him to distinguish between his m’s and n’s, hence the nickname.
She tightened her arms around him, bizarrely, abruptly filled with love for her brother. Anna turned on her heel and walked across the hall to Lucie’s room, who was at her desk, scratching ink into her book as per usual.
“Lucie,” Anna said.
“Mmm.”
“I need you took watch Alexander for a moment.”
“Mmm.” Lucie continued scribbling, completely lost in her own world, a concentrated look on her face.
“Just for two moments. I’ll close the door so he doesn’t wander out.”
“Mmhmm.”
Anna deposited Alexander on the throw rug beside Lucie’s bed, where he started tugging at the soft fabric.
She was on her way out of the room when she announced: “It’s just until we clear up your parent's smashed wedding vase that was from Aunt Charlotte.”
Lucie didn’t even look up. “Very nice.”
Anna grinned to herself before swinging the door shut, and remembering the crisis at hand.
When she returned to the parlour, Barbara and Eugenia were in the same position that she had left them in. They were in the state of shock, Anna thought, that they were in because they’d never imagined themselves doing something so irresponsible and outrageous. They were trying so hard to partake in what adult life entailed, which was being passive perfection.
Remembering what her mother had told her about the hijinks in which she and the rest of the aunts and uncles participated in when they were Barbara and Euginea’s age though, Anna knew that it wasn’t at all like that.
“Ladies,” she said to them both, and they looked up at her, despair on their faces. “We’re going to clean this up, and then decide what to tell them.”
They both nodded silently, Barbara then running to fetch a broom and dustpan from Bridget, and Eugenia and Anna picked up the large pieces of vase that weren’t dangerous to handle.
Barbara returned, and swept the rest of the small pieces into the dustpan, and Eugenia held the bin for Barbara to pour the remnants of the vase into, Anna chucking the larger bits in after they had finished.
This was all done in complete silence, the cousins seemingly too devastated to speak. Anna silently volunteered herself to run the bin down to Bridget, who looked at her, utterly perplexed, but took it anyways.
She raced upstairs again, wondering how many times she would have to make this trip, and jogged into the parlour, and found the cousins sitting on the reclining couch in silence. Anna stopped on the threshold, unsure of how to continue.
Eugenia noticed her, and lifted her head to look at her. To Anna’s horror, there were tears flowing freely down her face, and she could spot a few on Barbara’s face as well. She wasn’t emotionally prepared enough to deal with two crying women today.
“Will and Tessa will surely murder us,” Eugenia sobbed, covering her face with her hands and folding into herself. Barbara still stared into space, occasionally sniffing miserably. “Charlotte too!”
“It’s just a vase,” Anna said, slightly exasperated.
Eugenia and Barbara stared at her with identical expressions of bafflement.
“It was gifted to them by the Consul,” Eugenia said slowly, as if to make sure Anna understood.
“At their wedding,” Barbara added, mournfully.
“They mention how beautiful it is all the time!” Eugenia wailed, cutting herself off and crying again.
“Look,” Anna tried, as they sobbed together. “Look. I have an idea.”
The cousins sniffled to a halt in their tears once again, and Anna stepped into the room and lowered her voice as to explain her plan.
“Poor, darling Alexander wanted something to eat, so Barbara started to journey down to the kitchen to fetch something.”
They both stared at her in complete confusion.
“Meanwhile,” Anna continued, “Eugenia went over to the window to close it, being the responsible young lady she was, for she noticed Alexander was becoming chilly. And during that minute, Alexander toddled over to the table with the vase on it, reached up to grab onto the edge, but accidentally knocked the vase on it’s side, and it rolled over, and crashed to the ground—beside Alexander, of course, he wasn’t in danger at any point.”
Barbara and Eugenia looked at each other, then at Anna for a long moment.
“It’s not that terrible of an idea,” Anna said, desperately. “Bridget and I would back you up—I can always think of another if it’s not believable?”
The cousins stood up simultaneously, and then to Anna’s astonishment, flung themselves onto her, hugging her. Anna patted Barbara on the back, dazedly.
“Thank you so much, Anna,” Eugenia said tearily. She wiped at her eyes in the position she was, arms around Anna’s neck. “We’ll never forget this.”
“Never,” Barbara repeated, sniffling happily.
“Alright, alright,” Anna grumbled in reluctance to being embraced this tightly, but secretly, very pleased.
Tessa and Will were a little heartbroken, of course, and Anna could see Barbara almost daily in her retelling of what had “happened”, but caught Anna’s intense eye contact and continued, only a little hurriedly. Although they were sad, they were understanding, for no one could blame dear Alexander for such an accident.
“I’ll be sure to tell Sophie and Cecily that you two girls were calm and responsible in this situation,” Tessa told them both, patting them on the shoulders.
Anna could see Eugenia open her mouth, no doubt to say something about Anna’s coolheadedness and their hysterics, but she made frantic gestures behind Tessa’s back to stop.
Eugenia snapped her mouth shut, but both she and Barbara beamed at her when Anna said, “They most certainly were, Aunt Tessa.”
They both hugged and thanked her again when the adults had left, though, much to Anna’s amusement.
She knew that most others would have scoffed at their display after the vase had shattered, but Anna knew how much the parent's trust and respect meant to both Euglena and Barbara, the same as writing to Lucie or reading to James.
So she hugged them back, knowing how that small act of kindness had meant to them.
5.
The rain slammed against the window of Anna’s bedroom, making it increasingly difficult to sleep. The wind whistled against her roof, rattling the shingles, pulling her out of the web of sleep every time she was just about to fall into it.
Anna sighed, staring at the dark ceiling, her sheets pulled up to her chest. It was going to be one of those nights.
She perched herself on her elbow, tugged on the switch for her bedside lamp, and sat up once light had flooded the room, casting shadows in the corners and making Anna blink at the sudden intense brightness.
Although her bed was warm and comforting, she knew that it was no use to lie here and do nothing. She folded the sheets off of her, swinging her flannel-clad legs out of bed and stood up, stretching.
A book that Lucie had recommended lay on her bedside table; she swiped it, and shrugged on her dressing gown that had been hanging on the hook on the back of her door. Then she ambled downstairs, filled the kettle up and switched the stove on.
Anna held her book open whilst waiting for the kettle to whistle, and continued to read it as she poured the water, and stirred the milk in. She held the cup carefully, so as to avoid spillage, and placed it on an ornate table next to an overstuffed armchair, which she collapsed in.
She had barely settled, having taken a sip of the boiling tea, wincing at the heat, and reading a line or more of her riveting heist novel, when her doorbell rang.
Her teacup halfway to her lips, she paused, and raised her eyebrows. Who on Raziel’s earth could that be?
Anna put her teacup on the table, and the book facedown on the footrest she had placed in front of her. A murderer would have more subtlety, she reassured herself, and so would a thief. But then she remembered the murderer that had knocked on a poor victims door in one of Lucie’s detective novels, and picked up a heavy lamp on the way to the door.
There was another knock, and this time it sounded more frantic. Anna frowned in puzzlement.
She unlocked the door, undid the bolt, and turned the doorknob. The door swung open, and the hand holding the lamp went limp.
A murderer would have been more expected that the person standing on the other side of the door.
Ariadne Bridgestock stood in the pouring rain in her white nightgown, and a thin coat haphazardly thrown around her shoulders. She was positively drenched, her lovely lush black hair in a wet heap and straggling, her arms with visible goosebumps, her whole body shuddering with the effort of keeping her warm.
Her face was worryingly blank, almost as if the life had been drained out of it. Her eyes were unfocused, glassy.
Anna was at a loss for words.
Ariadne’s eyes became more focused as she took in Anna at the door, as if she were surprised that she had answered.
“Anna?” She asked, her voice timid. “Why are you… why are you holding a lamp?”
She glanced down at the lamp, having forgotten about it completely in the space of time that it had taken for her to understand that Ariadne was here. The lamp was placed quickly on the table beside the door.
“I… no reason. Would you like to—come in?” She asked, hesitatingly. It would have been so unnecessarily cruel and unkind for her to close the door on Ariadne’s face.
Anna was glad that she had asked, for Ariadne nodded feverently, wrapping her arms around herself, making her look smaller than Anna had ever seen her.
Ariadne stepped into her flat after her, and Anna shut and locked the door once more. She was dripping water all over the welcome mat, not that Anna cared, but she was concerned about how cold the other girl looked.
“I’ll fetch you a towel,” Anna resolved, and hurried away from her problems for a quick moment to lose her composure significantly in the towel cupboard. She took the towel closest to the heater, and sped back to where Ariadne was still standing, looking cold and lost.
“Thank you,” Ariadne said, as Anna handed her the towel with a quick smile.
“You’re welcome. Erm—do you want some tea?”
Ariadne nodded once more, and Anna went to boil the kettle again in the kitchen. When she returned with the tea, Ariadne was sitting at the kitchen table. Anna pushed the tea towards her, and studied her as she took a sip.
“Did you walk all the way here?” Anna said lightly, trying for a joke.
Ariadne finished a gulp of her tea. “Yes.”
An awkward silence blanketed them, astonished on Anna’s behalf, miserable on Ariadne’s. In the end, it was the former that spoke.
“Why?”
Ariadne’s expression closed, like petals on a flower. Then she attempted for a smile, but it took her two tries for her lips to pull into the shape of one, as if she were one of Christopher’s broken machines that kept failing to start. “I thought it was high time for a visit.”
“Really,” Anna said dryly. “So you rolled out of bed in your night attire, walked all the way across London with only a coat and shoes thrown on, in the middle of the night whilst in a thunderstorm. Just to see me.”
Her weak smile dropped, and her hands tightened around her teacup.
“Would you believe me if I said yes?” Ariadne said lowly, not looking her in the eyes.
“No.” Anna said firmly. “Will you explain to me why you’re trying to catch your death of cold?”
Ariadne did not answer. Anna sighed through her nose, and picked up her tea to finish off, but it was cold and tasteless, and she grimaced whilst gulping the rest of it down her throat. Unable to stand the silence, and avoiding eye contact, she tried for conversation again.
“How’s Charles?” And she winced once she had said it, not having realised it probably sounded spiteful and bitter.
Ariadne’s teacup clattered to her saucer as she put it down, flinching from the question.
“Fine.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“He’s fine.” She said, through gritted teeth, her dark eyes flashing. Anna raised her eyebrows. This wasn’t the Ariadne she remembered. The Ariadne Anna had known was gentle, even-tempered and mellow.
This girl was ragged-edged, tired, and brittle. Anna suddenly felt exhausted, and very sad, remembering the hollow look in a lot of women’s eyes when they’d leave Anna in the morning after, hurriedly dressing, hand fumbling on corsets out of panic, preparing to return to their husbands.
Anna set down her cup. “It doesn’t look like you are, though.”
She knew she had hit the nail on the head when Ariadne folded her arms, pointedly looking away.
“Ariadne,” Anna softened her voice, stretching her arm across the table, and covering Ariadne’s hand with her own. “I know we didn’t part on good terms. I’m sorry that we did—I know that you were were just trying to stay safe.”
Having opened herself up to the world, being free and watching others chain themselves to secrecy while doing so had given her a different perspective to life than the one she had had when scorning Ariadne for staying safe. She understood now, after seeing women and men alike weep in the secrecy of hidden clubs, after reading in the newspapers of horrible things that had occurred to people who were just being themselves.
“You can tell me why it is you’re here,” she continued, softly. “You know I won’t tell anyone.”
Ariadne took a deep breath, and unclenched her hands from where she’d been gripping the table, knuckles white. She stood up precipitously, turning away from Anna, and ran her trembling hands through her hair, clearly distressed.
“I thought I would be able to stand it,” she said, tremulously. “I thought I was strong enough that I could take it.”
Anna suddenly knew exactly what was occurring.
“But tonight,” she drew a large breath in. “Tonight he brought up the matter of—children. What I had wanted for so long.”
“But after—after all the kisses, no matter how brief I make them, after sharing a bed—” she spat in disgust. Anna could see her whole body shaking.
Ariadne turned around to face her, her face bleak, and tears were brimming in her eyes, her mouth wobbling in an attempt to keep herself repressed as she had been doing for so long.
“You are the one of only individuals on earth that would understand. I can’t bear it, Anna.” Ariadne’s voice cracked horribly on the word, and the dam broke, tears sliding rapidly down her face, her breath coming short and folding into herself.
Anna was out of her seat before she realised what was happening, and swept Ariadne into a hug before she collapsed to the floor. She wrapped her arms around her, Ariadne’s arms and clenched fists on her chest, and Anna held her head against her collarbone.
She could feel the wracking sobs Ariadne was letting out, and her body felt very small and frail in Anna’s arms.
“You are the strongest person I know of,” Anna murmured, rubbing Ariadne’s back comfortingly. She only cried harder and deeper, breaths hitching her body.
“It’s s-so hard,” Ariadne sobbed, her tears splashing onto Anna’s neck. “I don’t know h-how to survive.”
“I know,” Anna said, feeling tears pricking at the corners of her eyes in sympathetic frustration at the world. “I know.”
She let her weep against her for a while, knowing how long she must have been holding this in. Ariadne slowly relaxed her tensed body, falling more into Anna as she cried her heart out with hopelessness.
Her sobs slowly tapered off, and Ariadne let herself be held by someone who finally understood. Then she drew back off of Anna, sniffing back her now running nose. Ariadne held her gaze for a moment with a wild, frantic look on her eyes, then lurched forward to kiss Anna.
Before she could, though, Anna placed her hand on her shoulder to gently hold Ariadne back, who looked at her, tears still occasionally dripping out of her eyes, her expression confused.
“We both know that is not what you need right now.” Anna told her, with a heartbroken smile. “What we had was beautiful, but it fell too quickly into ruin for us to return to that.”
Ariadne nodded, checking herself, and stepped away from Anna, wiping her eyes with her palms. “I’m sorry.”
“No worries,” Anna waved it off. “You’re in a fragile state at the moment.”
“That shouldn’t be an excuse,” Ariadne muttered, still wiping her tears away. “I know that you have moved on, and I have come to accept what we had is left behind.”
As she said those words, a pair of fierce silvery-grey eyes flashed through her mind. Anna inclined her head in agreement.
“Here,” she said, and opened her arms as an invitation for embracement. Ariadne tucked her head against Anna’s shoulder, and placed her hands around Anna. “It’s not as hopeless as it seems.”
After hugging her, she let go and steered Ariadne to the reclining couch, wrapping a blanket around her. Anna stood before her, projecting as much confidence as possible for Ariadne to breathe in.
“You are going to stay her for the night—I’ll make the spare bed up,” she said, as Ariadne opened her mouth to protest at the effort Anna was sure to put in. “You’re going to tell Charles that you stayed at your dear old friend Anna’s house, for she fire-messaged you saying that she was ill and in dire need of assistance.”
Ariadne stared in wonder as Anna then tore around the room, looking for a page and something to write with. She tore a sheet from a notebook, and snatched a pen up from a table, and started to scribble locations down on the paper.
“Here are several safe meeting areas, be it bars or poetry societies, where people like you and I flock to.” she said, with a meaningful look at Ariadne. “And you can talk to them, meet up with them, court them in the safety of their own homes or these places. Every time you wish to attend these places,” Anna tore out another sheet and started to scribble once more. “Tell Charles you have registered to one of these very normal, ladylike societies—like a knitting club—and I will personally make sure to have a word with whoever heads it up to ensure that you are registered and definitely make regular appearances, when in reality you will be chatting to lovely ladies and people like I.”
She slid the two pieces of paper towards Ariadne, who took them, in a daze.
“It isn’t the best solution to what you are in now, but it will definitely help. Tell Charles that you are interested in adoption, and that you’ve learned from speaking to other wives has made you realise that remaining a virgin makes you a more faithful wife—or something along the lines of that, he’d not very bright in the area of women so it shouldn’t be too hard.”
“I believe that is all I can do for now,” Anna finished, collapsing back onto the sofa next to Ariadne.
She stared at Anna for a long moment, her eyes twinkling—hold on, those were tears. Had she done something terribly wrong—
Ariadne embraced Anna fiercely, tears dripping down her face once more, but this time happy—not despairing. “Anna,” she choked out. “You are the most wonderful person I know.”
Anna blushed.
Once she had retreated upstairs to her bed, having set up the long sofa downstairs into some sort of semi-comfortable sleeping area, Anna fell to sleep straight away, feeling better rested than she had in a long time.
Ariadne had left by the time she woke late the next day, but had written a thank you note and left it atop of the covers. Anna noticed that she had made up the bed, despite it being a temporary one, and laughed to herself as she collected the sheets to put away.
After that, Anna saw Ariadne once every so often at the usual bars she would visit, talking and laughing with another woman or one of the few people that were like Anna, in their disregarding of femininity. Ariadne would catch her eye in the middle of talking, a smile spreading across her face as she spoke to her companion, that Anna would return, and raise her glass in acknowledgment, as she would chat the beautiful barmaiden up.
Whenever she saw her in any Nephilim related business, hanging off Charles’s arm, she would no longer be faking her smile, and her eyes and skin were aglow once more.
Anna no longer ached when she would look at her, filled with regret and pity, but be filled with bubbles of happiness in looking at how far they had both come.
+1
“Look out!” Lucie screamed, and Anna dived out of the way to avoid becoming a pincushion for a very unappealing looking demon.
She twisted to look where the demon had catapulted itself to, safely out of the way of any civilians. Another demon swung her way, and she gave a terrific swipe at it with her seraph blade, causing it to burst, and disappear, but raining goo down on her as a result. Ugh.
A glimpse of gold flashed in the corner of her eye, and she saw Cordelia battling what seemed to be one of the larger monstrosities. Anna raced over to aid her in the demise of the demon, and joined Cordelia at her side, jabbing and deflecting blows from the pincers.
“They appeared out of nowhere!” Cordelia yelled over the ruckus of battle, her deep red hair having fallen out of its updo, and her cream dress now covered with dirt, and folded into some sort of trouser-like state—the skirts clung close to either leg, and were knotted together to hold themselves together on her lower back—that she had done after the demons had overrun the gathering.
All of the Conclave, with the addition of the Consul and the Inquisitor, had called a meeting in an outside setting—beautiful gardens near the Inquisitors house—due to it being a celebration of some sorts that the Inquisitor was to announce at the gathering.
To Anna’s dismay, this meant most of the children and people who tended to skip out on the regular meetings were to attend, as it was not an official Conclave meeting. Anna happened to be one who would occasionally skip out on a meeting if the agenda looked boring to her, so it was with reluctance that she buttoned her waistcoat and tied her shoes.
When she had arrived, there was a large crowd already gathered, as Anna liked to be fashionably late, but not too late at the same time. The Herondales were there, Jamie looking smart in a blazer and trousers, Lucie in a sky blue frock. Her parents were there with Christopher, who motioned for her to come over, and the other Lightwood clan were present as well, Barbara and Eugenia giving her each a wave.
She also spotted Ariadne, who gave a warm smile at the sight of Anna, and surprisingly, she was not with Charles. He seemed to be in a deep discussion of the state of the economy with Alastair and another young man, from what Anna could hear by snatches of conversation.
Grace was not present, from the looks of things. Anna felt a twinge of disappointment in her chest, and then felt ridiculous for feeling that. What had she been expecting? Not once had Tatiana Blackthorn or her ward been in attendance of anything of the Shadowhunter kind.
The Inquisitor had let everyone mill around for a while, catching up with each other, and then called everyone to be seated in the array of garden chairs. Anna had taken the seat next to her brother, who asked how she was faring, and then launched into an explanation of an equation he and Henry Branwell—who was seated next to his wife in his mobile chair—had been corresponding over letters about.
There was some sort of opening speech that Anna didn’t listen very attentively to, but was then interrupted when someone stood up and said that their Sensor was flaring up sporadically, which caused a wave of mutters throughout the crowd.
“I’m sure it’s nothing—” The Inquisitor laughed, albeit a bit nervously, and then all chaos broke loose.
Demons had burst through a clearing, through the ground all around them, and screams of horrified surprise filled the air, chairs toppling over, and seraph blades and weapons being drawn frantically.
The demons had a rabid look to their sick, gleaming eyes. They foamed at the mouth, teeth shining in the dusk. Anna had unsheathed her blade from her thigh sheath, checking that her family was weaponized, and had then launched into battle.
Now, having slain the demon she and Cordelia and she had been fighting, she cast her glance wildly around, in search of people struggling to fight the horde. Why were there so many? Something was wrong.
She saw Ariadne, fighting a three headed beast alongside a brunette girl Anna couldn’t place a name to. She raced over, as they seemed to be slowing, and jabbed at the demon’s abdomen.
Ariadne flashed her a quick grin before resuming, cracking and flicking her electric whip, making the demon hiss at her. They both pushed forward for a few seconds, until the demon saw an opportunity to strike Ariadne as she turned to reel her whip to the side, off of the sticky surface of the monster.
It pulled back one of its spiked tentacles, ready to strike Ariadne, but Anna was there first.
She tried to deflect it with her blade, but she aimed too high and it flicked a bleeding, jagged cut down chest instead.
Anna gasped in pain, momentarily stunned with agony, but it faded slightly after the barbed tentacle left her body. She was filled with a surge of anger, and sliced the tentacle off with a yell just before it reached back to strike again.
It burst, and immediately after she and Ariadne then looked to their left, where a chorus of shouts had just erupted.
There was a gargantuan demon at the far end of the gardens, huge and disgusting and spiky, which ten or so Shadowhunters were attempting to fight. The problem was, it was covered in some sort of hide that prevented their attempts at puncturing the skin.
Anna glanced at Ariadne, who nodded, and began to race towards to monster. Cordelia came up beside Anna about halfway there, running at full pelt with Cortana drawn in front of her, a fiery expression on her face to match her hair. Lucie fell into step beside them as well, her eyes alight with adrenaline. Barbara and Eugenia joined them as well before they swung themselves into stance.
Together they swung their weapons on the same area at the same time on the monsters oozing hide, punctuating the skin.
The demon howled, black spittle flying from its mouth, covering the crowd below it. Then it made a snapping noise, and popped out of existence.
Anna blinked the demon spit out of her eyes.
“Urgh,” someone said to her left. Eugenia held her arms outstretched, goo dripping off of them. She looked up at them all with a disgusted expression on her face.
Cordelia let out a noise of laughter, tried to stifle it, but ended up to just laughing more, bending down and letting her sword slip to the ground. Ariadne joined her in giggles, pointing wordlessly at them all in their state of disarray.
Anna chuckled lowly at them all, as they dissolved into laughter, then suddenly took a step back, stumbling at sudden dizziness.
Barbara looked up at her, concern on her face. “Anna, are you alright?”
“I think,” Anna licked her dry lips, and stumbled so that she found herself on her knees suddenly.
There were a chorus of exclamations that Anna didn’t hear very well. Her side stung and throbbed, and she abruptly—too late—remembered the blow she’d received from the demon earlier.
Anna thought she had enough strength to give some sort of explanation, but her eyes rolled back into her head and she fell into darkness.
***
When she came to, there was a softness beneath her, and her head felt like it had been filled with cotton.
Woozily, she thought she remembered a Silent Brother’s voice interrupting her sleep—Uncle Jem’s, possibly?
There was a low murmur of voices in the background of the this mysterious setting. She wondered why she had been knocked unconscious, shifted slightly on what she presumed was a bed, and winced as flash of pain shot down her side. Ah, right. The demon.
“Shh! She’s waking up,” someone hissed. Anna had previously thought she was in her bedroom, but the roughness of the sheets indicated the Institute. Which made sense, she thought, Jem now clicking into place in the whole scenario.
She blinked her eyes open, the ceiling coming into focus, the sleep falling out her eyes. A head suddenly popped into her line of vision, peering concernedly down at her.
“Anna!” Lucie exclaimed, brown hair hanging around her face, smiling delightedly. “You’re awake!”
Anna tasted something foul in the back of her mouth. Her voice croaked when she spoke, and she tried to sit up. “What happened?”
“Here, let me help,” Lucie said, and assisted Anna into sitting back against a nest of cushions. “You gave us quite a fright!”
Anna took in the scene around her. She was in one of the guest bedrooms of the Institute, flowered wallpaper patterning the walls, a dressing table to one side and a wardrobe to another.
Barbara and Eugenia were seated on the window seat, and stood up when she glanced over, smiles pulling at their lips. Ariadne was seated at the dressing table, and she stood as well, coming over to Anna.
Cordelia was sitting on the edge of the bed, and placed a hand on Anna’s leg. “How are you feeling?”
“Erm… fine?” Anna shifted uncomfortably at being the utmost centre of attention. “What are you all doing here?”
It wasn’t that it was unusual for them all to be seen together, they all worked under the same branch of Nephilim in London, it was just… strange for them all to be voluntarily laughing and chatting in the same room. Anna was certain none of them knew Ariadne that well, and the Lightwood cousins usually kept to themselves.
“Taking care of you, of course!” Barbara said, cheerily.
“Me? But didn’t Jem…”
“Oh, he came and healed you and all that whatnot,” Lucie said, waving her off. “It was a bit scary—the wound on your side was oozing loads of black liquid. You were convulsing at one point!”
Anna felt queasy. “Really.”
“It really was scary, Anna,” Ariadne said, coming to sit on the other side of the bed, worry creasing her brow. “Are you sure you feel alright?”
She nodded, moving her torso to the side, and then that agony shot through her once more, causing her to flinch. All five girls made some sort of noise, then Lucie raced over to grab a pot of what looked like salve, and Eugenia whipped out her stele.
“‘Fine’ my ass, Anna Lightwood,” Cordelia commented, raising her eyebrows.
“Uncle Jem said that there was some sort of poison in the tentacle that was difficult to treat,” Lucie spoke as she uncapped the ointment. “He said to put this on it if it still hurt.”
“Shirt down, Anna,” Barbara said.
“Not that I don’t usually enjoy being partially undressed in the care of several ladies,” Anna quipped, as she lowered her shirt and Lucie peeled the bandages away. “But in this case most of you are related to me.”
Lucie examined her wound, and then spread some of the salve across her collarbone. Anna winced at the contact with her raw skin, but the medicine quickly soothed the angry pain radiating from it.
“Ariadne isn’t,” Lucie pointed out, capping the pot.
Anna and Ariadne both looked at each other for a moment, then burst out into hysterical laughter.
“What?” Lucie looked confused, as did all of the other girls. “Is it something I said?”
“No,” Ariadne gasped out, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “Just an inside joke.”
Anna gave a great snort at that, which set Ariadne off again, nearly making her fall off the bed. Their laughter slowly came to a stop, but they still have the occasional giggle.
Eugenia rolled her eyes in a fondly exasperated way, and scooted forward to where Anna was still holding her shirt down, brandishing her stele. She started to draw an iratze, and finished it off with a flick of her wrist. She sat back, inspecting her work, and tried to act casual when she said her next words, but failed. “By the way, these came for you, while you were unconscious.”
Barbara took that as a cue, and lifted an enormous bouquet of flowers that had been down one of the sides of the bed. Anna’s eyes widened. There were large roses, small delicate lacy looking flowers, long elegant leaves all folded into one bundle.
“The note says: feel better soon, from Grace.” Cordelia read off a silver tag that was attached.
Anna felt hot under her collar, and felt a flush creeping up her cheeks.
Ariadne stood to look at the note over Ariadne’s shoulder, and gasped. Anna tried to clamber over to where they were standing, but Lucie held her down with a stern look that made her look like Tessa for a bizarre moment.
“What is it?” Anna asked, craning her neck to see what they were staring at.
Ariadne and Cordelia looked at each other and burst into giggles. Lucie took the bouquet from her parabatai’s hand and read the note, smirking to herself.
“There seems to be a heart and kiss drawn next to her name.” Lucie said, with a raise of her eyebrow.
Eugenia gasped. “Anna! A dalliance with the dangerous enemy of the boys? That’s so romantic!”
“Dalliance!” Anna’s eyes went wide and her voice went as high as she had ever heard it. “It is—not—give me that!”
She made a swipe for the flowers, and examined the note furiously as all of the girls dissolved into fits of giggles. There was indeed a heart and ‘X’ next to Grace’s name, and Anna felt a fluttery sensation in her chest.
“Anna! May I be your wingwoman?” Barbara shrieked, falling off the bed she was laughing so hard.
“No! I’m her wingwoman!” Cordelia shouted, a big grin on her face.
“No, I am!”
“I am!”
“Ladies!” Anna shouted, and they all fell silent, afraid they had gone too far.
Instead of berating them, she gave them a wicked smirk. “You may all be my wingwomen.”
And they all fell backwards, laughing their heads off, Anna included.
Later, when they had all calmed down and were sitting on the bed, chatting about everything and nothing at all, she felt grateful in a way she never had when she thanked them all.
“You always have helped us, Anna,” Ariadne said, a kind look on her face. “While you were asleep, we found out that you had done so much for each of us. We thought it was high time for us to help you in return.”
“Even if that meant distracting you from the pain with Grace’s note,” Cordelia joked, and they all guffawed again.
“Come here,” Anna said, a prickling sensation in her eyes, and she spread her arms out to hug all of them. They all made sounds of comfort and climbed over to hug her, and with the weight of all of them, ended up falling into a big pile on the bed, laughing at each other’s antics.
***
The truth was, Anna didn’t mind helping people. She just told herself that to maintain her cool and calm reputation.
But she had learnt that it was alright to let your shield down in front of the ones you loved.
And most importantly, she had learnt what it meant to be helped by someone else.