Chapter Text
//I've been having a hard time adjusting.
I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting.//
Laughter floated through the air as freely as the drinks were poured, the room alight with excitement and joy. Shadowhunters and Downworlders freely mingled in the wide-open room, a reminder of the alliance that had been built with blood, sweat, and tears.
One person stood toward the back of the room, observing it all with a watchful eye. He carefully kept his emotions hidden away, knowing a celebration wasn’t the place for his mixed feelings.
It had been two weeks since the end of the bloody war that lasted two years with fights going back even further. Valentine Morgenstern and his son Jonathan were no longer threats to the Shadow World, the Circle finally rooted out and destroyed. The Downworld and Shadowhunters had built a shaky alliance at the beginning of the war, being strengthened over the course of time.
“It’s a celebration, hermano, not a funeral,” Isabelle said lightly, his sister appearing next to him with a teasing smile on her face. She was wearing what Alec knew was one of her favorite dresses – a tight red dress that showed off all her runes. “You’re the Head of the New York Institute, don’t you think you should mingle with the guests?’
Alec didn’t respond, instead trying to force a small smile to his lips to please her. It wasn’t as if he weren’t happy the war was over – he was. He understood why people wanted to celebrate the end of the war, but he wasn’t in the mindset where he felt ready for that.
Alec knew better than most how many had died in the war, both soldiers and innocent causalities. He was the one who had to sign the reports, inform the families, break the news to loved ones. He was the one who heard and saw the anger and grief in the eyes of those who lost much in this war. Far too Shadowhunters and Downworlders died trying to defeat Valentine and his forces, his son Jonathan having been more powerful than they thought. Not to mention the added struggle of trying to find the good members of the Clave they could rely on.
“You okay?” Isabelle asked, far too perceptive at times. Her brown eyes were full of concern and care, reminding him of all the times she had asked that question growing up.
Alec nodded, not quite trusting his words to come out in a reassuring manner. How could he explain that he could still see the blood on his hands? That he couldn’t wash it away? How could he tell her that the faces of those they had lost – including their little brother – still haunted his nights?
He knew something wasn’t right with him, something hadn’t been right for a while. But he knew he had to push it aside for now. He attempted to smile again, but the look in her eyes showed she could see past that. Still, she let it go, squeezing his arm and moving back to the center of the room to dance.
From his vantage point in the room, he could see his parabatai dancing freely as well, Jace always doing well in the spotlight. Jace threw back his head and laughed at something, hand in hand with Simon Lewis who he’d begun a tentative relationship within in the past couple months. Jace’s smile shone brighter than it had in a while, a clear weight having been lifted off his shoulders with Valentine and Jonathan gone. He’d let his blond hair grow out some, and Alec knew it was because he liked it when Simon would braid it.
“And I thought us vampires were the ones who kept to the shadows,” a familiar voice drawled, Lily Chen appearing next to him. Her black hair was streaked with neon pink, in stark contrast to the black trousers and corset she was wearing.
Alec quirked a corner of his mouth upward. “Shadowhunter.”
“You got me there.” Lily swirled her wine glass before taking a sip, staring out at the party as Alec did.
She handed Alec the other wine glass she was holding, one absent of blood and filled with his favorite kind of wine. He accepted it gratefully, the taste comforting and familiar.
Lily was second-in-command of the Brooklyn vampire clan, and he’d known her for years now. She was one of the first Downworlders he became friends with. He gradually earned her trust, and she earned his respect. The Shadow World Council had two to three representatives for each faction and race, Lily being one of those, so they worked together often. Those on the council knew the toll of being a leader – Lily, Maia, and Alec often going out for drinks in what they pretended wasn’t an effort to forget.
“You should be out there celebrating,” Alec said, wishing his own mood had not taken such a dive. Somedays he could push it all aside easily and be in the moment, but days like these it was hard.
Lily hummed noncommittedly. “Is that what people said you should be doing? Celebrating?”
He didn’t bother responding. He knew she already knew that answer.
She sighed wearily in a way that reminded Alec of how many decades she’d been alive, having seen far more than just this war. Her eyes softened though, as she turned to him. “We celebrate what we’ve won, but we can still mourn what we’ve lost. The war is over Alec, what do you want?”
Alec wasn’t sure how to answer. He couldn’t remember the last time someone asked him what he wanted. From birth his path had been paved – to be an obedient son, to be a good soldier, to be Head of an institute. He had fought against some of the obligations, like delaying marriage, and because of that he knew his parents would never truly be happy with him.
What did he want? He knew what he needed to do. There was still much to be handled with the end of the war – compensations, funerals, memorials, accords…
“I want rest,” Alec said in a quiet voice, both aware that the word encompassed far more than a simple night of sleep.
Lily smiled at him, her hand drifting toward his to squeeze it in a comforting manner. “Then let’s see what we can do about that.”