Hey everyone Aurora here! Just want to get a few guidelines for this story straight, just so it's not confusing. First of all, this story is set after both Percy Jackson and The Olympians, The Heroes of Olympus and The Mortal Instruments end, assuming that all the characters in all three series are alive and healthy, which I hope is what happens anyway! So, please enjoy :)
The characters belong to Rick Riordan and Cassandra Clare, even if I wished I owned Jace and Percy...
Percy Jackson knew enough about to New York City to know that bumping into the shoulder of someone didn't mean you had to stop and apologise, and he didn't know why this time was an exception. Maybe it was that she was so short, and when he bumped into her she got knocked back a few paces, and into someone else who proceeded to knock her to the ground. She fell back onto the pavement, the contents of her bag spilling out onto the sidewalk. Percy looked around expectantly, knowing he was already late for a date with his girlfriend, but something about this girl made him crouch down and help her pick up her things.
"I'm sorry" he apologised, picking up a sketch book and placing it in her bag "I guess I wasn't looking where I was going".
The girl's freckled cheeks turned the same shade as her hair, and she tucked a red strand of it behind her ear, scooping up some pencils.
People walked around them like a river went around rocks, making him feel very closed in and safe, surrounded by a torrent of strangers who didn't know what he was or any better.
The girl suddenly stood, all the objects from her bag now in, and Percy quickly followed her movements.
Her wide green eyes were curious and slightly scared, like he might hurt her at any moment. She couldn't have been over 5'2, making Percy tower over her.
He looked around him nervously - a habit he'd picked up from fighting monsters for a good part of his life - before sticking out his hand stiffly.
"Hi, I'm Percy" he said, his voice breaking as he said his name. He cursed himself for sounding like an awkward idiot.
She looked at his hand for a moment, and he saw a battle raging in her eyes. He was confused, and prayed to Zeus she'd just shake his hand and not make him feel like an ass.
She slowly put her small, freckled hand into his and shook with surprising firmness, and then pulled away.
"Clary" she smiled weakly.
She jerked her chin the pavement by his feet."Your pen fell out of your pocket".
"Ah I wouldn't worry too much, it usually reappears in my pocket after a sec" Percy shrugged, then his eyes widened at the information he'd just spilled. He cursed himself and quickly went to pick it up, but he was a second too late, as the pen disappeared from the pavement and into his pocket. Clary sucked in a breath sharply, and grabbed his arm, examining the backs of his hands roughly.
"Woah watcha doing Clary?" He asked, a nervous laugh creeping up his throat. She looked up at him, her eyes blazing, a determined set to her jaw.
"What are you? A daylighter? A lycanthrope? A warlock?! Do you know Magnus Bane?!" She questioned, getting up in his face, and he stepped back, people still walking around them, not paying any attention. He'd obviously stumbled across one of New York's many crazy people, and he scolded himself for stopping. Annabeth was gonna be sooo pissed.
"Listen, I have no idea what you're talking about" Percy explained, putting his hands up in the tiny space between them, not wanting to push her away, but not wanting her to come any closer.
"Are you a demon, 'Percy'?" She spat, reaching into her bag and pulling out a cylindrical shaped object, holding it like it was a weapon. One of Percy's hands slipped into his pocket, the other still held in front of him hesitantly. His fingers gripped Riptide and he drew it out of his pocket, still holding it in pen form.
She gasped. "You're a fairy aren't you! You're eyes are too green for you to be a mundane!" She raised the cylinder, and whispered "Orifiel" and Percy took a large step back, almost out onto the road. No one seemed to notice anything happening. Mist.
Out of the cylinder a thin, lightly glowing blade appeared, and she drew it back above and a little behind her head, ready to strike.
Percy asked himself what Annabeth would do. She was so smart and knew what she should do and why. She was always right, and he, Perseus Jackson, was not. He thought vaguely that maybe he should get a bracelet with wwad on it. As he stared at the confusing, tiny, girl in front of him, holding what was obviously an enchanted weapon, he decided that he shouldn't uncap riptide. For all he knew, she could be just a confused demigod, frightened and alone.
His gaze softened, and he held up his hands in a surrender.
"Listen, you must be confused and frightened. I get it. But there are people just like you and me and there's an entire camp dedicated to us. Just let me take you back to Chiro-"
"I don't know what you're talking about, but you are not taking me anywhere" she said, her voice slightly panicked. Her hands shook, and her eyes were wide and scared, a nice emerald green colour. He felt bad for her, she'd obviously come across a monster or two, but she didn't look like she was in bad shape. That was good.
"Listen, you don't know what you are, and when you find out it may come as a bit of a shock but I just want you to know everything will be fine" he assured her, speaking quietly.
She lowered her weapon, her eyebrows pinched together. "I know exactly what I am" she said, her voice calm and collected, but her eyes said otherwise.
Percy felt bad for the girl, he really did, but she was being annoyingly stubborn. If only she'd just make it easy and come with him! His voice was soft and gentle as he held out riptide for her to see.
"Clary, I don't think you do. But I can prove that you're like me" she opened her mouth as if to speak, but he raised a hand to silence her. "I have a weapon just like yours. Look, it's called Anaklusmos, which is Greek for riptide, yeah?"
Clary's expression sobered, and she raised her eyebrows. "It's a pen" she said dryly, her tone unamused.
Percy's hand reflexively curled around the pen, and he - like so many times before - uncapped his sword and watched as it grew into a long bronze blade. He couldn't help but grin.
"See, just like yours-"
And that's when Clary stabbed him.
Jace Lightwood did not enjoy being stood up anymore than he enjoyed being chatted up by fourteen year old girls. But yet, there he stood, outside a movie theatre in the heart of New York City, waiting for his girlfriend Clary Fray to show up while young girls tried to hit on him.
"Hey there" one smiled, showing off her rainbow braces, a bit of acne on her forehead.
Jace jerked his chin up in a hello, wondering when her and her friends would see he was one, not interested and two, too old to legally date them.
"Whatcha doing?" She asked, moving in close to him, cornering him up against a popcorn machine.
Jace grinned at her, one corner of his mouth pulling up as he looked at her. He leaned in incredibly close, almost touching her nose in the process.
"Waiting for my girlfriend" he whispered, not waiting around to hear her reply and stepping away from the throng of girls who obviously couldn't help themselves. And how could he blame them? He was amazing.
He was so close to just calling Clary and telling her not to bother, he'd waited too long and he didn't really even want to see a movie. Clary had insisted that they go out on a normal date, that didn't involve flying motorcycles or "shadowhunter crap" as she'd put it, so he'd settled to see a movie with her. She was now officially forty-five minutes late, and the movie was well started. He was actually beginning to worry. So many things could have happened in the span of time since he'd last seen her. She could have come across a demon and forgotten her seraph blade, or maybe she'd had another one of her famous run ins with the Seelie queen and been hurt. His hand itched to get his phone from his pocket and call her, but the last thing he wanted to do was come off as clingy.
But, despite that, after a quick glance at his watch he sprinted out of the cinema in search of her, and straight into someone else, winding himself and banging against a brick wall. She was tall, tanned and had curly blonde hair, someone Jace might've gone for before he met Clary, only now he couldn't imagine being with anyone who wasn't tiny and redheaded.
She stumbled back into an alley way, and Jace didn't think he felt like apologising, so he just crouched down at the mouth of the alley, his elbows on his thighs and his face in his hands.
"Maybe you should look where you're going next time" the girl suggested suddenly, her voice bitter. Jace felt a flicker of anger spark in his chest, and he slowly lifted his head and looked up at the girl. She had intense grey eyes, staring down at him like he was a piece of gum stuck on the bottom of her sneaker.
He gingerly stood, reaching his full height until he was looking down at her, staring at her right back.
"Listen Blondie, maybe I should be saying the same thing to you" Jace snarled, his top lip curling.
"At least my hair is naturally blond, and what's with the leather jacket? The 1950's called, they want it back" the girl shot back, leaning in so close he could feel her breath on his face.
"My hairs natural, thank you very much. Why does everyone assume I dye it?" He pulled down a curl down between his eyes, examining it before letting go and watching it spring back into place.
"At least I don't look like I just came home from summer camp" he said, raking his eyes over her body. The girl pulled away then, and looked down at herself quickly, her lip caught between her teeth. If he hadn't been paying so close attention he would have missed it.
Her gaze trailed over him; still pressed up against the graffitied alley wall, and she stopped at his eyes.
"At least I don't wear gold contact lense-"
She was cut off by a giant black figure, tackling her to the ground and slamming her up against the pavement. Jace was momentarily shocked, demons like that didn't attack mundane people so openly or forcefully. But just as Jace pulled out his seraph blade, a sharp object protruded from what Jace assumed was the back of whatever had jumped on the girl, and the thing burst into a fine gold powder, scattering in the light autumn breeze.
The girl rolled onto her side and wheezed, the knife she held clattering out of her grip and into the ground. She clutched her stomach and sat up slowly her eyes squeezed shut. The golden stuff was covering her from head to toe and Jace was very much reminded of certain glittery warlock.
Jace felt his eyes grow big, and he whispered "Uriel" holding the seraph blade behind his back and walking closer to the girl.
"So, you're a shadowhunter eh? You knew I was too didn't you?You know Blondie, if you wanted my attention so bad you could have asked for it" Jace said, crouching down beside the girl.
Her eyes shot open, and she looked at him incredulously.
"You saw that?" She whispered, wiping some glittery blood off her elbow "and what did you just call me? A meadow slumber?"
"You're obviously Nephilim" he said "don't try and fool me Blondie".
The girl grimaced, and pushed herself shakily to her feet, Jace following her.
"I don't know what in Hades you're talking about" the girl whispered, putting a hand out and bracing herself on the wall, a hand with a bleeding knuckle splayed across her face.
Jace was completely confused by then. The girl had no runes, no unusual shaped scars, nothing.
"How are you doing that?" Jace asked, coming and standing beside her.
"Doing what?!" She snapped, her nails digging into the sides of her nose, leaving crescent shapes on the skin.
"You don't have any runes! You're obviously a shadowhunter!" He yelled, drawing the attention of a family walking past the alley way, who pulled their kids closer to their bodies.
The girl turned suddenly, her chest heaving, her top lip drawn up in anger. She was clenching her fists so hard around her bronze knife her knuckles had turned white.
"Listen pretty boy, I don't know what in hades you're talking about. But you obviously saw that hellhound, now I'm going to ignore the fact you're covered in weird tattoos and I'm going to take you back with me to my camp. You're either the most insanely lucky demigod to have made it to your age on your own or the most idiotic mortal who's been given the gift of sight!"
Jace's brain didn't know how to comprehend whatever she'd just said to him, so he tried to find something snarky to say.
"You think I'm pretty?"
The girl snorted and drew a Yankees cap out of her backpack, firmly placing it on her head and disappearing. Jace's stomach tightened. He'd fought vicious battles, almost died on several occasions and actually died on some, he'd conquered more demons then he could count, but never, had he ever, gone up against an invisible and armed shadowhunter with a bad temper.
"THAT'S CHEATING" he called out to no where in particular, drawing out his blade from behind his back and waving it around. He heard soft laughter coming from behind him and turned swiftly, jabbing his knife into the air.
"Ah ah" the voice scolded him, ruffling his hair, and fury flared in chest.
"As much as I don't want to see your face Blondie, I'm afraid this is the most cowardly performance on your part and I recommend taking that hat off if you want me to think higher of you" Jace said coolly, even if his insides were churning with anxiety.
"I don't need your approval" the voice of the girl said, her tone slightly annoyed.
"Sure you do, everyone does" he grinned.
A frustrated scream sounded from behind him, and he turned just in time to see the trashcan lid coming at him, knocking him out.
The last thing he remembered seeing were beads, each different colours and with different symbols. Something Clary might've liked.
Then just black.
So..yeah. Did I completely screw it up or do you like the idea? It'll probably get better as the story progresses and I come to grips with the characters more. If you liked it, please review, and if you didn't, tell me why. Thankyou for reading :)
