Isabelle Lightwood (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
seveninchmotto) wrote2015-02-08 08:41 pm
seveninchmotto) wrote2015-02-08 08:41 pm
Magnus Bane's Loft, New York, Sunday Eve–– okay it's really Monday Morning
It was either the middle of the night or the very early morning, and it was freezing out, so cold that even the thermis rune Isabelle had put on herself weren't doing much to keep her from shivering as she pushed open the door of Magnus's apartment building and ducked inside. After being buzzed up, she headed up the stairs, trailing her hand along the splintering banister. Part of her wanted to rush up the steps, knowing Alec was there and would understand what she was feeling (apart from the nausea, perhaps). The other part of her, the part that had hidden her parents' secret from her brothers all her life, wanted to curl up on the landing and be alone with her misery. The part that hated relying on anyone else — because wouldn't they just let you down? — and was proud to say that Isabelle Lightwood didn't need anyone reminded herself that she was here because they had asked for her. They needed her. Isabelle didn't mind being needed. Liked it, in fact. It was why it had taken her longer to warm up to Jace when he had first stepped through the Portal from Idris, a thin ten-year-old boy with haunted pale gold eyes. Alec had been delighted with him immediately, but Isabelle had resented his self-possession. When her mother had told her that Jace's father had been murdered in front of him, she'd imagined him coming to her tearfully, for comfort and even advice. But he hadn't seemed to need anyone. Even at ten years old he'd had a sharp, defensive wit and an acidic temperament. In fact, Isabelle had thought, dismayed, that he was just like her.
In the end it was Shadowhunting they had bonded over — a shared love of sharp-edged weapons, gleaming seraph blades, the painful pleasure of burning Marks, the thought-numbing swiftness of battle. When Alec had wanted to go out hunting alone with Jace, leaving Izzy behind, Jace had spoken up for her: "We need her with us; she's the best there is. Aside from me, of course."
She had loved him just for that.
She was at the front door of Magnus's apartment now. Light poured through the crack under the door, and she heard murmuring voices. She pushed the door open, and a wave of warmth enveloped her. She stepped gratefully forward. The warmth came from a fire leaping in the grated fireplace — though there were no chimneys in the building, and the fire had the blue-green tinge of enchanted flame. Magnus and Alec sat on one of the couches grouped near the fireplace. As she came in, Alec looked up and saw her, and sprang to his feet, hurrying barefoot across the room — he was wearing black sweatpants and a white T-shirt with a torn collar—to put his arms around her.
For a moment she stood still in the circle of his arms, hearing his heartbeat, his hands patting half-awkwardly up and down her back, her hair. "Iz," he said. "It's going to be okay, Izzy."
She pushed away from him, wiping at her eyes. God, she hated crying. "How can you say that?" she snapped. "How can anything possibly be okay after this?"
"Izzy." Alec drew his sister's hair over one shoulder and tugged gently at it. It reminded her of the years when she used to wear her hair in braids and Alec would yank on them, with considerably less gentleness than he was showing now. "Don't go to pieces. We need you." He dropped his voice. "Also, did you know you smell like rum?"
She looked over at Magnus, who was watching them from the sofa with his unreadable cat's eyes. "Where's Clary?" she said. "And her mother? I thought they were here."
"Asleep," said Alec. "We thought they needed a rest."
"And I don't?"
"Did you just see your fiancé or your stepfather nearly murdered in front of your eyes?" Magnus inquired dryly. He was wearing striped pajamas with a black silk dressing gown thrown over them. "Isabelle Lightwood," he said, sitting up and loosely clasping his hands in front of him. "As Alec said, we need you."
Isabelle straightened up, putting her shoulders back. "Need me for what?"
"To go to the Iron Sisters," said Alec. "We need a weapon that will divide Jace and Sebastian so that they can be hurt separately — Well, you know what I mean. So Sebastian can be killed without hurting Jace. And it's a matter of time before the Clave knows that Jace isn't Sebastian's prisoner, that he's working with him —"
"It's not Jace," Isabelle protested.
"It may not be Jace," said Magnus, "but if he dies, your Jace dies right along with him."
"As you know, the Iron Sisters will speak only to women," said Alec. "And Jocelyn can't go alone because she isn't a Shadowhunter anymore."
"What about Clary?"
"She's still in training. She won't know the right questions to ask or the way to address them. But you and Jocelyn will. And Jocelyn says she's been there before; she can help guide you once we Portal you to the edge of the wards around the Adamant Citadel. You'll be going, both of you, in the morning."
Isabelle considered it. The idea of finally having something to do, something definite and active and important, was a relief. She would have preferred a task that had something to do with killing demons or chopping off Sebastian's legs, but this was better than nothing. The legends surrounding the Adamant Citadel made it sound like a forbidding, distant place, and the Iron Sisters were seen far more rarely than the Silent Brothers. Isabelle had never met one.
"When do we leave?" she said.
Alec smiled for the first time since she'd arrived, and reached to ruffle her hair. "That's my Isabelle."
"Quit it." She ducked out from his reach and saw Magnus grinning at them from the sofa. He levered himself up and ran a hand through his already explosively spiky black hair. "I've got three spare rooms," he said. "Clary's in one; her mother's in the other. I'll show you the third."
The rooms all branched off a narrow, windowless hallway that led from the living room. Two of the doors were closed; Magnus drew Isabelle through the third, into a room whose walls were painted hot-pink. Black curtains hung from silver bars over the windows, secured by handcuffs. The bedspread had a print of dark red hearts on it. Isabelle glanced around. She felt jittery and nervous and not in the least like going to sleep. "Nice handcuffs. I can see why you didn't put Jocelyn in here."
"I needed something to hold the curtains back." Magnus shrugged. "Do you have anything to sleep in?"
Isabelle just nodded, not wanting to admit she'd brought one of Flick's shirts with her from the dorms. "It's kind of weird," she said. "You demanding I come over right away, only to put me to bed and tell me we're getting started tomorrow."
Magnus leaned against the wall by the door, his arms over his chest, and looked at her through slitted cat eyes. For a moment he reminded her of Church, only less likely to bite. "I love your brother," he said. "You know that, right?"
"If you want my permission to marry him, go right ahead," said Isabelle. "Autumn's a nice time for it too. You could wear an orange tux."
"He isn't happy," said Magnus, as if she hadn't spoken.
"Of course he isn't," Isabelle snapped. "Jace —"
"Jace," said Magnus, and his hands made fists at his sides. Isabelle stared at him. She had always thought that he didn't mind Jace; liked him, even, once the question of Alec's affections had been settled. Out loud, she said, "I thought you and Jace were friends."
"It's not that," said Magnus. "There are some people — people the universe seems to have singled out for special destinies. Special favors and special torments. God knows we're all drawn toward what's beautiful and broken; I have been, but some people cannot be fixed. Or if they can be, it's only by love and sacrifice so great that it destroys the giver."
Isabelle shook her head slowly. "You've lost me. Jace is our brother, but for Alec - He's Jace's parabatai, too."
"I know about parabatai," said Magnus. "I've known parabatai so close they were almost the same person. Do you know what happens, when one of them dies, to the one who's left —"
"Stop it!" Isabelle clapped her hands over her ears, then lowered them slowly. "How dare you, Magnus Bane?" she said. "How dare you make this worse than it is?"
"Isabelle." Magnus's hands loosened; he looked a little wide-eyed, as if his outburst had startled even him. "I am sorry. I forget, sometimes... that with all your self-control and strength, you possess the same vulnerability that Alec does."
"There is nothing weak about Alec," said Isabelle.
"No," said Magnus. "To love as you choose, that takes strength. The thing is, I wanted you here for him. There are things I can't do for him, can't give him." For a moment Magnus looked oddly vulnerable himself. "You have known Jace as long as he has. You can give him understanding I can't. And he loves you."
"Of course he loves me. I'm his sister."
"Blood isn't love," said Magnus, and his voice was bitter. "Just ask Clary."
-----
Isabelle settled down in Magnus' guest room, and did her best to go to sleep after changing into her commandeered pajama. But not before sending out a text. Long overdue.
[ooc: NFB, for that other guy. From CoLS again.]
In the end it was Shadowhunting they had bonded over — a shared love of sharp-edged weapons, gleaming seraph blades, the painful pleasure of burning Marks, the thought-numbing swiftness of battle. When Alec had wanted to go out hunting alone with Jace, leaving Izzy behind, Jace had spoken up for her: "We need her with us; she's the best there is. Aside from me, of course."
She had loved him just for that.
She was at the front door of Magnus's apartment now. Light poured through the crack under the door, and she heard murmuring voices. She pushed the door open, and a wave of warmth enveloped her. She stepped gratefully forward. The warmth came from a fire leaping in the grated fireplace — though there were no chimneys in the building, and the fire had the blue-green tinge of enchanted flame. Magnus and Alec sat on one of the couches grouped near the fireplace. As she came in, Alec looked up and saw her, and sprang to his feet, hurrying barefoot across the room — he was wearing black sweatpants and a white T-shirt with a torn collar—to put his arms around her.
For a moment she stood still in the circle of his arms, hearing his heartbeat, his hands patting half-awkwardly up and down her back, her hair. "Iz," he said. "It's going to be okay, Izzy."
She pushed away from him, wiping at her eyes. God, she hated crying. "How can you say that?" she snapped. "How can anything possibly be okay after this?"
"Izzy." Alec drew his sister's hair over one shoulder and tugged gently at it. It reminded her of the years when she used to wear her hair in braids and Alec would yank on them, with considerably less gentleness than he was showing now. "Don't go to pieces. We need you." He dropped his voice. "Also, did you know you smell like rum?"
She looked over at Magnus, who was watching them from the sofa with his unreadable cat's eyes. "Where's Clary?" she said. "And her mother? I thought they were here."
"Asleep," said Alec. "We thought they needed a rest."
"And I don't?"
"Did you just see your fiancé or your stepfather nearly murdered in front of your eyes?" Magnus inquired dryly. He was wearing striped pajamas with a black silk dressing gown thrown over them. "Isabelle Lightwood," he said, sitting up and loosely clasping his hands in front of him. "As Alec said, we need you."
Isabelle straightened up, putting her shoulders back. "Need me for what?"
"To go to the Iron Sisters," said Alec. "We need a weapon that will divide Jace and Sebastian so that they can be hurt separately — Well, you know what I mean. So Sebastian can be killed without hurting Jace. And it's a matter of time before the Clave knows that Jace isn't Sebastian's prisoner, that he's working with him —"
"It's not Jace," Isabelle protested.
"It may not be Jace," said Magnus, "but if he dies, your Jace dies right along with him."
"As you know, the Iron Sisters will speak only to women," said Alec. "And Jocelyn can't go alone because she isn't a Shadowhunter anymore."
"What about Clary?"
"She's still in training. She won't know the right questions to ask or the way to address them. But you and Jocelyn will. And Jocelyn says she's been there before; she can help guide you once we Portal you to the edge of the wards around the Adamant Citadel. You'll be going, both of you, in the morning."
Isabelle considered it. The idea of finally having something to do, something definite and active and important, was a relief. She would have preferred a task that had something to do with killing demons or chopping off Sebastian's legs, but this was better than nothing. The legends surrounding the Adamant Citadel made it sound like a forbidding, distant place, and the Iron Sisters were seen far more rarely than the Silent Brothers. Isabelle had never met one.
"When do we leave?" she said.
Alec smiled for the first time since she'd arrived, and reached to ruffle her hair. "That's my Isabelle."
"Quit it." She ducked out from his reach and saw Magnus grinning at them from the sofa. He levered himself up and ran a hand through his already explosively spiky black hair. "I've got three spare rooms," he said. "Clary's in one; her mother's in the other. I'll show you the third."
The rooms all branched off a narrow, windowless hallway that led from the living room. Two of the doors were closed; Magnus drew Isabelle through the third, into a room whose walls were painted hot-pink. Black curtains hung from silver bars over the windows, secured by handcuffs. The bedspread had a print of dark red hearts on it. Isabelle glanced around. She felt jittery and nervous and not in the least like going to sleep. "Nice handcuffs. I can see why you didn't put Jocelyn in here."
"I needed something to hold the curtains back." Magnus shrugged. "Do you have anything to sleep in?"
Isabelle just nodded, not wanting to admit she'd brought one of Flick's shirts with her from the dorms. "It's kind of weird," she said. "You demanding I come over right away, only to put me to bed and tell me we're getting started tomorrow."
Magnus leaned against the wall by the door, his arms over his chest, and looked at her through slitted cat eyes. For a moment he reminded her of Church, only less likely to bite. "I love your brother," he said. "You know that, right?"
"If you want my permission to marry him, go right ahead," said Isabelle. "Autumn's a nice time for it too. You could wear an orange tux."
"He isn't happy," said Magnus, as if she hadn't spoken.
"Of course he isn't," Isabelle snapped. "Jace —"
"Jace," said Magnus, and his hands made fists at his sides. Isabelle stared at him. She had always thought that he didn't mind Jace; liked him, even, once the question of Alec's affections had been settled. Out loud, she said, "I thought you and Jace were friends."
"It's not that," said Magnus. "There are some people — people the universe seems to have singled out for special destinies. Special favors and special torments. God knows we're all drawn toward what's beautiful and broken; I have been, but some people cannot be fixed. Or if they can be, it's only by love and sacrifice so great that it destroys the giver."
Isabelle shook her head slowly. "You've lost me. Jace is our brother, but for Alec - He's Jace's parabatai, too."
"I know about parabatai," said Magnus. "I've known parabatai so close they were almost the same person. Do you know what happens, when one of them dies, to the one who's left —"
"Stop it!" Isabelle clapped her hands over her ears, then lowered them slowly. "How dare you, Magnus Bane?" she said. "How dare you make this worse than it is?"
"Isabelle." Magnus's hands loosened; he looked a little wide-eyed, as if his outburst had startled even him. "I am sorry. I forget, sometimes... that with all your self-control and strength, you possess the same vulnerability that Alec does."
"There is nothing weak about Alec," said Isabelle.
"No," said Magnus. "To love as you choose, that takes strength. The thing is, I wanted you here for him. There are things I can't do for him, can't give him." For a moment Magnus looked oddly vulnerable himself. "You have known Jace as long as he has. You can give him understanding I can't. And he loves you."
"Of course he loves me. I'm his sister."
"Blood isn't love," said Magnus, and his voice was bitter. "Just ask Clary."
Isabelle settled down in Magnus' guest room, and did her best to go to sleep after changing into her commandeered pajama. But not before sending out a text. Long overdue.
[ooc: NFB, for that other guy. From CoLS again.]