Dedicated to my lovely friend Kat! Hope I do your ship justice!
Set a few years after the last chapter (not the epilogue) of Clockwork Princess / CONTAINS CP2 SPOILERS (obviously) / extremely long one shot
Chaos
"Time would make him more bearable, they said. He'll come around eventually, they said. He's a bloody idiot, that's what I say."
Gabriel's grumbling echoed the halls of his new manor, the bitter tinge of words hitting the wood floors and blank cream walls. There was something impersonal about his new home and that had nothing to do with the emptiness of paintings and pottery in the beautiful house that now wore the Lightwood name. No amount of materialistic beauty could make a house a home, not for him.
Sighing at his almost feminine thoughts, Gabriel pulled off his coat and loosened his shirt as he moved through the still unfamiliar hallways. He managed to find the kitchen that was currently only home to the necessities. Random food still scattered the counters in an unhealthy manner and he imagined Bridget, the wailing red-headed cook of the kitchens in the Institute, using the bottom of a pan to knock some sense to his unclean mind. The thought made him wince and smile at the same time.
Most of what stocked his rather boring kitchen was edible uncooked and, for that, he was thankful. He didn't have the time nor the patience for making himself anything, especially not after living with Bridget's surprisingly delicious stews and roasted potatoes, dripping with gravy and-
Gabriel's stomach grumbled, sounding almost identical to his low-voiced cursing, as he tore off a piece of bread and ate it almost viciously, his hands still trembling with barely contained anger, as he opened the cabinets in hope for some alcohol to soothe his irritated mood.
Tonight had not gone as planned. Gabriel had shown up at the Institute in the afternoon, in hope to visit his soon-to-be-wife and ended up being eye to eye with one of Henry's more unstable looking devices, held by William Herondale. Gabriel had lifted his eyes from under the brim of his hat to meet the stubborn glare - painfully similar to his sister's, which, of course, made Gabriel shudder - of his blue-eyed future brother-in-law.
The thought of any relation to Will made Gabriel groan in almost physical pain. Not only was that man constantly spouting poetic nonsense that would give even the singing Bridget a run for her money but he was unfathomable. Gabriel never expected to make friends with him but he was marrying his sister - whether Will liked it or not! - and he'd rather not be pinned under a mysterious device as his... family looked on at the pathetic commotion. Yes, he considered Charlotte and everyone in that Institute as family and cared about what they thought of him. He'd rather not let a biased brother change their thoughts. He wanted their blessings - as much as he wanted those of Will's parents for his sister's hand. Those who lived in the Institute had come to mean a lot to him.
Again, disturbed by the track his thoughts were taking, Gabriel poured himself some whisky. He had never been a heavy drinker but William Herondale seemed to bring out the best of everyone he encountered.
Slowly, Gabriel lowered the glass from his lips, feeling oddly guilty at his thoughts. Didn't he treat Will just like how Will was treating him when it came to Gabriel's own sister? He would have happily pointed something potentially dangerous at the dark haired man, a few years back. But now...
Gabriel respected Will. And he wasn't too bad, when they trained or hunted together. He even made a few jokes that impressed the Lightwood brothers, as dry as his humour could come across.
Still, today was not one of Will's best moments. He wasn't even given the chance to hang up his hat and coat in the hallway before the overprotective older brother caught him off guard, pushed him to the ground and pointed that terrifying contraption at his nose. Will's words were dripping with disdain. "Lightworm. You again."
Yes, me again! Gabriel had wanted to scream. The man who is betrothed to your younger sister. Would you please be so kind to stop trying to murder me?
Instead, he matched his glare with Will and prayed Charlotte heard the noise, over the wails of Charles, and would threaten Will with something worse. Perhaps a futuristic machine that could shoot fire or something like that. Gabriel would give up his empty manor to see Will's hair being burned off.
Putting down his whisky glass, Gabriel sighed and ran a hand through his own hair. He needed a haircut himself - not quite as drastically as the one he imagined on Will - but between trying to sneak kisses with his future wife, moving into his new house and avoiding the assault attempts of a bitter Herondale, many things had been pushed out of his mind. Maybe if Will had succeeded with his plan to use Henry's invention on him, he would've got a trim. Or lost his head entirely. One could not be too sure, when it came to Henry's prototypes. Will was willing to take his chances.
Yes, pointing something sharp at that insufferable creature could benefit him greatly.
Gabriel thought, without truly thinking at all, that he had a tendency to pointing things in the direction of the Herondales.
Groaning again, this time in exasperation and shame at the desire in his thoughts about the other member of the Herondale family, he seized hold of his drink and swallowed it down hurriedly. The burn was an easily ignored sensation, thanks to the blood in his betraying body going south, except for the flush off his face.
It seemed as though every time he went to see her, her brother would show up and kick him out again. Ever since their wedding was announced, one morning where everyone- almost everyone who resided in the Institute and called themselves "family" had gathered, Will wouldn't let him near her and she was rushed off for dress fittings and whatever other ghastly things marriages involved. Gabriel would've settled with the runes and the toast but this ordeal that was keeping her from him was bothering him. Will was most definitely bothering him.
Henry Branwell had showed up this morning, instead of Charlotte, wheeling himself into the hallway to find the regular war between the Herondale and the Lightwood. He smiled cheerily, as if Gabriel was not facing possible death, as he bid him good morning, not seeming to notice Mr Lightwood had his chin to the floor.
"Oh and Will, be careful with it. I designed it for long aim only," Henry said, blinking down at the papers in his lap. Despite his current situation leaving him at the mercy of the enemy and having seen Henry's wheelchair several times, Gabriel felt his chest tighten at the sight of the odd but kind man. He could've died that night, between the crushes of metal and the sound of Charlotte crying desperately, but he didn't, in the price of the feeling in his legs. If Henry's mind wasn't so utterly brilliant, what would his life be? What Shadowhunter could stand to never fight again?
Will smiled at Henry's words - a beautiful, cold smile, though it was pretty ugly to Gabriel. "Convenient, I'd say. Imagine the damage it could cause close up."
Gabriel gritted his teeth but a hiss escaped anyway and Will grinned. Henry just continued to blink, as if there was still a mystery to solve within the pieces of metal he had put together. Maybe there was, like what the hell it was actually for.
"Will."
Tessa Gray - who was not Gabriel's beloved but his escape route when Will became a maniac beyond reason - was stood in the doorway, a book resting over her large stomach, as if the child inside could see past the muscle and skin to enjoy the story itself. Will instantly moved away from Gabriel, tossing Henry his invention (who caught it with wary eyes and began to prod at it straight away), and marched up to his wife, hand instantly moving towards her stomach.
"I'm fine," she insisted calmly as he opened his mouth. She fixed him with a stern look. "It's Gabriel that we should be wondering about here."
Both men's mouths dropped open in surprise and it was only when Gabriel's chin brushed the floor did he remember he was lying on the floor. Quickly, he staggered to his feet, patting away dust as he turned to face the Herondale couple, though Tessa, for him, at least, remained Tessa Gray.
Tessa had defended Gabriel many times but they had been subtle distractions, nudges and kisses to soften Will up whilst Gabriel swallowed disgust at the sight but was thankful for her help all the same. Most of the time, Gabriel relied on Charlotte's power in the household to pull Will down a notch or two. Tessa, however, was far from authoritative. Buried in a book whenever he saw her (because, honestly, there was little a woman could do when she was heavily with a child), she wasn't one to glare or stomp her feet at her beloved. It was partially true that love was blind but Gabriel understood that, despite the years that passed, they both still hurt over what had happened and, as if it were the only way to handle that hurting, they clung to each other. It was brave.
And convenient for Gabriel at times like these.
He had closed his jaw whilst William gaped at his wife. She snapped the book she was holding shut with a loud thump - making Henry jump a little - and crossed her arms over her protruding stomach, eyes challenging her husband. "Well?"
William Herondale, for once in his literacy spun life, appeared speechless.
Gabriel's victory was short lived, however, when Tessa turned to him with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Gabriel."
"Er, it's fine." There was a time when he was sure Tessa hated him and that was easier to handle. He still, after all these years, was unable to respond to her kindness easily. "It wasn't as if you were the one ready to behead me."
"Actually," Henry spoke up, unaware of Gabriel's dry tone, "it's meant to stun."
Will's eyes widened and he quickly pushed his wife behind him, glaring at the red-haired man. "Henry! By the Angel, stop tinkering with that thing here. Do you want to kill us?"
"A bit like you wanted to kill me," Gabriel grumbled wryly. Will ignored him.
Henry, still looking somewhat dazed, took this as his cue to leave and wheeled himself away, leaving Tessa glaring at Will as he whispered urgently to her and Gabriel standing there, looking stiff and out of place.
Tessa sighed loudly. "I'll go, Will, but you're coming with me."
Will glanced back at Gabriel, scowling, before shaking his head at Tessa. "And leave him prowling around-"
"I used to live here, you imbecile!" Gabriel snapped.
Again, Will chose to ignore him. "You go on up, Tessa. You need to rest."
That seemed to set her off and Gabriel had to bite back a smile as she yelled, "I've been resting all day, William Owen Herondale! I've rested and slept and read and, if you so much as breathe in the direction of a chamber, I will clobber you over the head with the biggest book I can get my hands on."
"I'm sure you'll find a Bible to your liking," William teased, grinning down at her. "Though striking me down with the wrath of God has gotten quite repetitive."
"Will." She shook her head at him, unimpressed with his joke. "I'm not letting you push me back into any quiet room. I'm not some delicate piece of china. I will not break at the sound of a loud noise. I am not fragile. I'm pregnant, not-" Tessa cut her rant off, eyes flashing with guilt.
I'm not dying. I'm not invalid. I'm not like he was.
The unspoken words hung in the air and Gabriel flinched away from them.
He could understand Will's worrying. A woman's health was important when she was with child. But it seemed Will was desperate to wrap Tessa up and keep her away from the world. He tested her food first, kept her behind his attentive body and was always one step ahead. It was for Tessa - and the unborn child, of course - but Gabriel wondered if Will was just desperate to feel that sort of protective nature he had drowned himself in years. Somewhere, in his subconscious, Will wanted to barely swim, just to remember what it was like to have his soul completely whole again.
Gabriel heard Will sigh softly and was surprised at how quickly his pain was masked behind a tender and loving smile. He took hold of Tessa's slightly trembling palms and their eyes spoke to each other, hurt and comfort alike, in between love and devotion.
Gabriel had to look away. They had clearly forgotten he was here and, if they started kissing, he was going to find a book to hurl at Will himself.
Before Will could say anything, Gabriel coughed, announcing his presence that had caused all this trouble in the first place. The couple jumped and turned towards him. The guilt on Tessa's face morphed into irritation once again and she slammed the book in her hands into Will's chest before marching - or waddling - up to the Lightwood.
Even with an almost fully grown baby weighing her down, Tessa Gray was intimidating, if you knew what she could do. Sometimes, Gabriel wondered if he could ask her to Change into his mother but he dismissed the thought of digging up buried bones. There was no need in bringing up his father's sins and the often horrible past. He had a future now.
Somewhere in one of the rooms in the Institute.
Tessa's expression was once again apologetic as she stopped a few feet away from him. "I'm sorry, Gabriel, but she isn't here. They're dress fitting."
"Again?" Gabriel groaned, pressing his forefinger and thumb on the bridge of his nose as a severe headache began to blossom. "It's a wedding for one day. Surely they must have picked something."
"I can't say," Tessa replied solemnly. "Shadowhunter tradition."
Despite her being his saviour, Gabriel felt his patience slip. "I'm not asking for you to reveal the exact shade of gold of her dress; I just want to know when I'll get to see my wife!"
"She's not your wife yet," William murmured, almost to himself. "Nor will she ever be, if I could have it my way."
Tessa tossed him a filthy glare over her shoulder. "Will."
He raised his hands in surrender then glowered at Gabriel. "She's not here. Now, get out."
Tessa gasped at Will's rudeness. Her hand instantly went up to her angel necklace. Gabriel never saw her without it, even if the presence that was once in it was gone. "William!"
"What?" The dark haired man shrugged casually.
Tessa turned back towards Gabriel, frowning - less at him and more at her husband's behaviour. "You're welcome to stay, Gabriel. Don't mind Will. He seems to be carrying his own child."
"Our love holds no boundaries, my dear Tessa," William quipped, in a cheerful tone.
"That," she replied with a dry tone that made Gabriel suppress a chuckle, "I am aware. Do not make Gabriel suffer at your own weakness."
Will spluttered. "Weakness? What weakness?"
Tessa shrugged, identical to the gesture Will had done a minute beforehand, before her mischievous grin broke through. "A man's spine wasn't made to carry that kind of weight. You're simply not strong enough."
"I've slayed enough demons to bathe in their blood for the rest of my life," Will said lowly, "don't talk to me about strength."
"One could say that our spines are not weaker, just built for different weights, Miss Tessa," Gabriel inputted mildly.
"For once, I agree with the worm," Will said, lifting his chin arrogantly. Gabriel wanted to connect his fist with it. By the Angel, that nickname was bothersome. "This is a matter I would personally ask God himself."
Tessa rolled her eyes. "Let me fetch that Bible," she said, tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Allow me." William offered her his arm. "You may not be able to carry that old thing, what with that spine of yours."
Tessa just sighed as she looped her arm through his before looking over her shoulder at Gabriel. "You're better off heading home. The seamstress is eager to please, without the limit of time. I wouldn't expect them home until nightfall, at the very least."
Gabriel blew out a frustrated breath but thanked her all the same. She turned forward as Will looked back at Gabriel.
And stuck his tongue out!
Gabriel, stood in his kitchen now with that near empty glass of whisky, shook his head in disbelief. How Tessa came to love that inexcusable man was beyond him.
"Don't crash your carriage, Lightworm. I'll follow you into the afterlife to wring your neck if you ruin my sister's wedding," Will had called over Tessa's head calmly, as if they were discussing England's dreadful weather.
First, Will was threatening to murder him and now he was threatening to murder Gabriel for murdering himself. Either he wanted the marriage to go ahead or he didn't. He needed to make up his mind and soon. There was less than a month before they were - painfully so - "family."
"Lightwood," Gabriel had growled furiously at Will's retreating figure. "It's Lightwood, you weasel."
Gabriel had left the Institute, barely controlling his anger at the situation. Will had attacked him - for no reason, seeing as his sister wasn't even there in the first place! - and he had to put up with another night without a simple kiss to make the ridiculous showdown with her brother somewhat worth it. Marriage into the Herondale family was not looking for appealing.
Hell, if he didn't love her with every fibre of his being, he'd be tempted to drop out and catch a ferry to America... but not before giving William Herondale that haircut he honest to God deserved.
The price of love was not a cheap one. And, after everything he had seen in the Institute, he could hardly say he'd been stripped off his wealth.
Even though Will was hard to tolerate, Gabriel knew the wedding would happen. In terms of riches, Will was simply gambling back Gabriel's money. Gabriel hoped that he would eventually win those coins, when he actually needed them.
He needed her now though. His headache was a painful throb and he wasn't sure if the alcohol was helping or making things worse. He had spent his day in the city, trying to distract himself from how lonely he was. A backwards way of trying to forget when he was walking around alone, in the streets that were bustling with families, couples and workmen. Perhaps he was hoping to run into her.
He didn't and, despite the foolishness of the hope, it put him in an even worse mood. As the sun began to settle of the simmering waters of the Thames, Gabriel had took his horse - not carriage - and trotted home. The emptiness of the manor just continued to dampen his spirits and now here he was - using substance to gain nothingness so he could sleep without dreams tonight. The thought of dreaming of her without being able to truly feel her caused an ache in his chest.
Darkness was something he longed for. But he was a Shadowhunter; he was raised in the shadows.
Gabriel ran a hand through his hair again, more roughly this time, before pushing his glass across the counter and taking hold of the bottle by its neck, refusing to feel guilty about the fact that his thoughts instantly imagined Will's throat between his fingers. He took another gulp and staggered towards the living room.
It was growing dark; the desperate rays of sunshine still peeking through a stubborn horizon found themselves scattered along his front room, along with the mostly unopened boxes of his processions. He had stuffed his box full of clothes in his room and his weapons had already been organised in his weapons room and other appropriate places that only he could find. One could not be too careful when demons strolled into your front door more casually than he ever had. Just like the knives hidden in his boots, other weapons found refuge in the oddest of places - in between armchair cushions and between books and plants that had been hastily placed on a shelf to camouflage swords.
The room was a mixture of black, orange and red and Gabriel had to shield his eyes as he stumbled past armchairs and over boxes to draw the velvet curtains. He grasped hold of the surprisingly heavy fabric and tugged, almost falling over in the process. He didn't usually drink so heavily at one time but he was already halfway there; he didn't see the point of stopping now when the numbness of the liquid would provide him a peaceful night's sleep, unlike his sober mind.
Once he tackled the issue of closing the curtains, which left him in the dark and drunk, he attempted to feel his way towards any source of light. Maybe he should have lit the fireplace first. Maybe he shouldn't have found refuge at the bottom of a bottle in the first place. There were far too many maybes for Gabriel's drunken mind to comprehend.
With a witchlight's faint glow, great difficulty and perhaps a miracle on God's part, a flame flickered in the wood and Gabriel's new living room soon flooded with a calmer orange glow, compared to the fierce sun. Calm was good. He needed calm.
Pulling an armchair closer to the fireplace, Gabriel laid back, clutching the bottle to his chest and feeling like an old man as he drowned the alcohol miserably. This wasn't how he expected his nights before the wedding to be. He was supposed to be laughing and hunting, celebrating his end of being a bachelor with chaste but promising kisses and demon blood permanently staining his blades. Instead, he was laid back, with a bottle and a horrid mood, wanting William Herondale to drop off the face of the earth.
Gabriel could only pray that his whole marriage was not dictated by the immovable older brother. Looking at how today played out, he feared that would end up being the issue.
Groaning out loud again, Gabriel gulped down another hurried mouthful before dropping the half empty bottle carelessly to the ground to seize hold of a poker and prod angrily at the flames.
This wasn't how it was meant to be! He hadn't seen his soon to be wife in a week - a week! He didn't even care about kisses anymore. He just wanted to see her, tease her to see that spark in her bright eyes and whisper in her ear just to cause her to pout at him, her chin set in that adorably stubborn way. He would give this stupid, lonely manor to run the back of his knuckles over her almost permanently flushed cheeks, to feel the warmth of her skin and pride himself that this exquisite doll like creature was his.
"After Will, of course," Gabriel exclaimed out loud, with fake enthusiasm. He attacked the logs in the fireplace, imagining they were Will's head. "Brother, first. Husband, second." He stabbed at the fire again. "Or third." Stab. "Or fourth." Stab. "Or-"
Gabriel's ramblings were broke by the sound of knocking at his door. He jumped, almost dropping the poker and setting his whole living room alight. Setting the stick away, he dragged himself to his feet, his head spinning dangerously.
"Idiot," he hissed to himself, as he knocked over boxes. He used his hands, not his eyes, to find a spare blade, his vision swimming in a dance of flickering orange. What kind of Shadowhunter was he, drinking away his pathetic sorrows, alone in a large, otherwise empty manor? Now, he was barely able to stand.
It looked like Will would be getting the chance to defend his sister's honour and kill Gabriel (again) in the afterlife.
Gabriel breathed out heavily, closing his eyes as he tried to find balance. He was a trained Shadowhunter. If there was a demon at his door then he could take them. Perhaps with a little more difficulty than he did when sober but still, it wasn't impossible.
Using anything solid in his path as a crutch, Gabriel hobbled out of the room. His footsteps were light and his sword was steady, thankfully. Pleased with his agility, he stationed himself just a step away from his front door. With a steady breath, he reached for the lock. His movements were slow and cautious, ready for chaos.
And, chaos, he got.
In a matter of hurried seconds, he flipped open the lock and wrenched the door open, the sword pointed up roughly towards the black demon's neck as a battle cry escaped his throat. What Gabriel was not expecting was for the creature to scream back in the most human way possible - a frightened high-pitched scream. He screamed back in response at the cloaked creature at his doorway before the sound of blade on blade cut between any human - or supposedly human - sounds.
"Gabriel!" the creature shrieked, her hood falling from her head to unveil bouncing black curls that quivered around a trembling face, pinched in anger and disbelief. "What in God's name do you think you're doing?"
Gabriel blinked once. Twice. Again. He shook his head, the sword heavy in his hands, the end of the blade brushed away from under the chin of the blue-eyed creature at his door, by the companion of his weapon that it- she held.
"Cecily?"
She huffed loudly, giving him a glare that could put her brother's to shame. "Who else, you lunatic? Were you trying to kill me? Are you insane? You know what? Don't answer that. I don't even want to comprehend the possibilities. Only I would give my hand to the mad man when I'm in a city full of possibilities, wouldn't I? And-" Her ramblings were cut short when she realised Gabriel was still gaping at her. "Put down your sword and let me in then. And close your mouth. You may catch something. Like the tip of my sword."
Gabriel, slowly, lowered his weapon and she stormed past him, a vision of flowing black and white. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts before he followed her in, kicking the door shut behind him.
She settled herself easily on the armchair near the fire as he paused at the doorway to stare at her.
Cecily Herondale was beautiful. The fire illuminated her pale face and rosy cheeks, dancing in her glassy eyes. Gabriel had always thought she looked like a doll, with her dark ringlets and rosy mouth. If it weren't for her fiery nature and sharp tongue, he would almost be afraid to touch her, in fear that she would be break in his careless palms.
Actually, he was still afraid. Less of him breaking her and more of her breaking him. She was fully capable of that.
Cecily was still mumbling as he approached her carefully. "... this day get any worse? Attacked by a seamstress, attacked by my betrothed. I thought Shadowhunting was about demons, not pins and crazy, handsome Nephilim-"
"You think I'm handsome?" Gabriel found the word on her tongue extremely pleasing, as he leaned against the chair closest to her, grinning.
She whipped her head around and gave him a dark look. "And you! The nerve! What were you doing with a sword at the front door?"
Gabriel blinked. What was he doing?
She shook her head with a snort. The unladylike sound always made Gabriel smile. "What were you expecting? An army of demons to knock on your door and wait calmly for you to open it up so they can tear your throat out?" Now that he thought about it, his idea of demons at his door was a ridiculous notion. Alcohol was not a good friend of his mind. "Then again, what do I know? Maybe the Queen taught third dimensional creatures the height of prosperity."
At that word, Gabriel became aware of the dim room, the sensual warmth of the fire and the short distance in between him and the woman he was to marry so soon. He hadn't seen her in days and she looked more beautiful than ever - eyes glittering with challenge and mouth pursed into a shape that begged to be kissed.
Turning his knuckles white as he knotted his hands into fists, Gabriel sighed. "Cecily, what on earth are you doing here?" His voice was gentle and tired, the words smoothly strung, unlike his angry, drunk cursing just minutes before.
She didn't turn to him but instead, lowered her head, playing with the hem of the sleeve of her black cloak. "I'm not... too sure," she whispered back, after a long moment's hesitation. She spoke as softly as he had.
"What do you mean?"
She didn't reply and, tired of having her avoiding his gaze, he moved towards her and captured her heart shaped face in his large, rough hands. She blinked up at him, her mouth forming a small, tempting 'o' as she sucked in a breath. He stood directly in front of her so she couldn't look anywhere else but him.
"Cecy," he murmured as he lowered himself to meet her eyes more evenly. "Why are you here?"
She kept her gaze locked with his, her expression revealing nothing, before she leaned forward. His grip on her face fell to her tiny shoulders as she took hold of him by his shirt and met her mouth with his.
Gabriel's body froze, his mouth opening up in surprise but that was enough encouragement Cecily needed as she wound her arms around his neck and pulled him down to his knees in front of her and deepened the kiss.
She was warm, courtesy of sitting so close to the fire, and soft against his body. Cecily may look like a doll but she felt so honestly real that Gabriel did the only thing he could do at that moment.
He pushed her away.
She fell back against the cushions with a small "hmph!" face flushed and eyes half-lidded before they widened in disbelief at Gabriel's actions. He, himself, looked down at his palms. He had craved her kisses for days, lost sleep over the feel of her, and when she showed up, be it in the hands of God or the hands of the devil, he had pushed her away?
"Cecily, I- I- what-" He shook his head, his dark hair calling over his eyes, as he looked up from his hands at the woman in front of him. She had never looked so beautiful. Or so hurt.
Quickly - just as quick as Will has hid his pain from Tessa - her face fell back into an expressionless mask. If it weren't for the sight of her swallowing hard or how her eyes had filled with honest pain just seconds before, he would've thought she thought nothing of his actions.
As she began to lift her self up, looking determined to leave, Gabriel caught her by her shoulders again, making sure his hands were gentle this time. She still struggled and it took a surprising amount of strength to pin her against the back of the chair.
"Let me go! Gabriel, I swear, if you do not unhand me right at this moment, I will-"
"Do they know you're here?" His tone of voice came out low, angry and not what he had wanted at all. Cecily ignored him, ceasing her struggles to tilt her chin up and defiantly face away from him. He moved his hands so he was holding her by her upper arms. "Cecy, do they know you're here? Did something happen at the Institute? How did you get here?"
"I snuck out," she said quietly, with a shrug, glaring past him to the fire, that filled the room with an appropriate sound of hissing flames. "No one would look for me. They all knew I was tired from the dress fitting and I made it clear to Will that I wasn't in the mood."
"Dear Lord, Cecily," Gabriel moaned, rubbing his face. He closed his eyes, trying to remain calm about the whole situation. "We need to go back."
"So Will can proclaim that you've compromised my innocence and stop you from seeing me until we're to exchange runes? Ha!" she replied in a mocking tone. "Is that one of your finer ideas, Gabriel? Like attacking me at your doorstep?"
He scowled down at her. Even on his knees in front of her, he was taller. Like a doll, she was tiny. Unlike a doll, her face was set with a small, sarcastic smile and a grim expression in her eyes. "Exactly!" she proclaimed, almost smugly. "I'll sneak back in when they're all asleep."
Gabriel stared at her before narrowing his eyes. "Did you plan this?"
She smiled sweetly. "Plan what, Mr Lightwood?"
"Cecy, you can't." The words came out in a hoarse croak. It pained him to say it but this whole thing was ridiculous.
"Why can't I?" She sat up straighter and met his eyes with no difficulty. He saw no expression in them but determination now. "Don't tell me you haven't imagined something along these lines. Will's been keeping us away from each other at any cost to the point where I was forgetting the colour of the eyes off the man I was meant to marry." Gabriel rolled his eyes at the lie but couldn't fault her on her anger. It seemed as though both of them were tired of Will's meddling.
"I know," he told her, trying to sound understanding without revealing the restraint he was grasping for with slippery hands. "But this isn't right. Will is a... he's just trying to protect his little sister. I can respect that. Especially when it comes to you." Gabriel laughed, darkly. "Times like these, I can see why Will feels the need to protect you from me."
His words took a moment to catch up with him and he nearly slapped himself. Was this his drunken tongue? Or was he just being Gabriel Lightwood, the improper and impolite man that he was?
Cecily had paused at his words before looking up at him. Her usually light eyes seemed so much darker and Gabriel felt his body react to the feeling in them. Desire.
"Is that so?" She smiled coyly, a picture off innocence with that big cloak and those big eyes.
Gabriel swallowed, with difficulty. "Cecy, don't. You have to go back to the Institute-"
"I haven't felt your kisses properly in weeks!" she protested, eyes still dark but now with frustration. "Oh, yes, pecks here and there, fleeting and rushed. But I'm not some great auntie with rotten breath! I'm going to be your wife!"
He knew that. By the Angel, he did.
Gabriel was surprised to see her long, dark lashes wet with tears. Cecily Herondale was emotional, yes, but her tears had always remained a secret to the Shadowhunter world, as if sadness would make her weaker, more mundane, in a world where she needed to be strong. He could understand that. He had spent many nights, locked away in his room, crying in the hope that the Angel's would not strip him from his blood but help him overcome his grief. And they had - with time and patience, but they hadn't given up on him, when he was most human. He doubted they'd give up on Cecily either.
"I know that, Cecy-"
She let out a sob that became a bitter note of painful laughter. "Do you, Gabriel? Have you missed me as much as I've missed you? I lied and I ran away for you - risking my virtue or whatever you wish to name it - and come here, in hope of being with you - just you - and you - push - me - away!"
Gabriel's voice shook as he spoke, raising himself back up to full height. "By the Angel, can you hear what you're saying? The answer is in your own words, Cecily! You're risking your own name and, quite frankly, my head by being here. If Will finds out-"
"If Will finds out, what will he do?" Cecily jumped to her feet. Shadowhunter grace matched with her delicate features made her seem almost faerie like. "We're to be married, Gabriel. Nothing will change that. What difference does it make if I stay with you now when I'll do so on our wedding night anyway."
He spluttered at her words and quickly grabbed the armrest of the chair to steady himself. "Surely, you are joking. Cecy, that- that is not- I will-"
"Do you not love me anymore?" she asked quietly, rejection making her words crack. "Do you not want me? Am I not desirable-"
"Cecily!" He seized hold of her shoulders, once again. "Damn it, woman! Why would I marry a woman I do not love, want and desire?"
She moved closer to him, her eyes still wet, to look up at him. Her voice was but a whisper. "Then lay with me, Gabriel."
He knew his face was contorted in pain, as he fought his inner demons and tried to think past the tempting fog of desire. "You can't ask me that, Cecy."
"But I am."
Neither spoke for a moment until Cecily sighed deeply before fixing him with a sad smile. "I know you're doing this to be honourable but don't. We're to marry soon anyway. What difference does it make, to us - not society or Will or anyone else - just us, if you love me now or love me then? I want you, Gabriel Lightwood, right now, and, from the moment I arrived at that rainy Institute to save my brother, I've always got what I wanted."
He grinned at her a little, hoping it hid the desire that was slowly turning into something more than a fog, something solid. "You didn't save him."
"I didn't take him back home," Cecily corrected him, eyes still serious. "I stopped thinking of Will needing to be saved from the big, bad Shadowhunters. Maybe himself but you all were not the threat."
"Big, bad Shadowhunters, huh?" Gabriel mused.
Cecily looked up at him, with fluttering eyelashes and a wicked grin. Pure want thrummed through his blood with every beating of his impure heart. "Oh, yes. And you're the biggest and baddest Shadowhunter, I know." She paused and her grin widened. "After Charlotte."
Gabriel feigned shock. "Charlotte? You jest!"
"Consul Fairchild is not a force to be reckoned with," she replied, with a solemn nod of her head. Her curls bounced, as if they were alive.
He raised his eyebrow. "And what would Consul Fairchild say about the current predicament you have forced upon yourself?"
Glaring at him, she shrugging his hands off her shoulders and moved herself closer. "I have not the faintest idea what she would say but I do know what I would say."
"A penny for your thoughts?" Gabriel's voice was sarcastic and smooth as his body began to give in to her closeness.
"Kiss me, Gabriel Lightwood."
Unable to resist her any further, Gabriel did as she wished. As soon as their lips met, she sighed, grasping firm hold of wide shoulders as she stood on her toes to meet his mouth with hers.
He had never understood how one could taste a woman on their lips but as her mouth parted and their tongues met, the flavour of her was all he could taste, smell and think of. It wasn't quite honey or chocolate or any other sweetness he could list. There wasn't anything quite as sweet, if he could recall. As Cecily pressed her body against his, Gabriel forgot about what it could possibly be and decided that it didn't matter. Regardless, Cecily tasted heavenly. And that was only her mouth.
They separated for air, both gasping heavily. Gabriel's whole body felt like it was on fire, as he leant his forehead against hers. He closed his eyes to try and catch his breath - and his thoughts - then opened to find her watching him with nothing but pure love in her eyes.
"I love you, Gabriel Lightwood. You're the only one I will love and the only man I'll ever marry. You can't compromise fact. Will be damned, traditions be damned," she murmured, her breath hot on his face. She reached up to touch her cool palm to his burning cheek. "Make love to me."
Gabriel felt his chest tighten at her confession and his body respond to her forward command. "I love you," he whispered, trying to portray his honesty within the three words. "By the Angel, I love you, Cecily Lightwood."
Before she could say another word, he pressed a soft, loving kiss onto her content, smiling mouth before kissing the tear that slipped from her closed eyelids. Then, he pulled back to remove the cloak from her body to drop it to the floor beneath them.
For a moment, Gabriel wondered if he would've ever resisted her. Perhaps she would have removed her cloak if he had refused and then any argument would have flown down south, like all the blood circling his body.
She looked exquisite. Her dress was a pale blue, a gown made for summer, just a few shades lighter than the colour of her eyes. The sleeves were short and the neckline round, showing off her ebony skin - smooth and deliciously tempting - that had once been tanned from the countryside of her childhood. The corset was tight, pushing up her firm, round breasts and emphasising her tiny waist before the skirt flared out at her wider hips. No, she most definitely wasn't a doll, Gabriel couldn't help but think, as he drank in the sight of her. Cecily Herondale was a siren, sent for his damnation.
"Dear Lord," he groaned, moving forward to cup her hips with his trembling palms. "Did you plan to seduce me?"
She raised an eyebrow and nudged her elbow into his gut. "Was that a compliment?"
He ignored her sarcasm and pulled her towards his body roughly. Even through the fabric of her dress, he pressed his pelvis to hers and she gasped, flushing instantly. Gabriel, keeping one hand secured on her hip, threaded his fingers through the curls at the back of her head to guide her ear closer to his mouth. He kissed it before murmuring, "Compliments? I can do compliments."
Gabriel moved to kiss the side of her head. "It's a beautiful dress. Nice design." He lifted his other hand from her hip to trace up the bodice. "It compliments your eyes, of course, but pales in comparison. Have I ever told you how spectacular your eyes are?" He kissed her forehead then each side of her eyes, that had fluttered shut as his other hand caressed her hips, her stomach and higher.
"Though everything about you is spectacular. This." He kissed her button nose and she giggled softly. His trousers felt another size too tight. "And this." He kissed the edge of her mouth. She opened it immediately for more but he continued kissing down to her jaw, ignoring as her hands tightened on his shirt as he moved away from her advances. He chuckled at the soft moan that escaped her lips before pressing a wetter kiss to the edge of her jaw. "Your skin is rather amazing too, almost as if you're moonlight in a being. Contrasts rather nicely with your dress, don't you think?" He dipped his head and nibbled the skin of her neck, rewarded by a heated gasp. Every bite he kissed over, until he reached her prominent collarbones.
Cecily was rocking gently against him, soft moans escaping her invitingly open mouth as her dark lashes fanned across the top of flushed cheeks. He let go off her hair to use both his hands to feel the profile of her back before running up her sides, shaping the curves Gabriel hoped to memorise, as he kissed her skin again, going lower each time, until his lips found the top of her right breast.
"Gabriel," she breathed, eyes fluttering open. The blue was cloudy with lust as he regarded her, his chin balanced on her heaving chest.
He grinned mischievously before he boldly kissed her right breast, covering every inch of available skin with his tongue before moving to her left and doing the same. Her throaty moans seemed to vibrate through her skin and into his as he quickly trailed his lips back up from her breasts, collarbones, the arch of her inviting neck, her jaw and up to her ear once again.
The hands that clung to his shirt trembled as her forehead found his shoulder. He could feel her fast breathing, hot, on the skin behind his clothes and how he longed to tear the barriers between her skin and his. But he wouldn't take her like some wild uncontrollable animal. Gabriel would make love to Cecily, until his name was the only thing she could whisper.
His own breathing was heavy as he lifted a slightly shaky hand to move a dark curl away from her ear. "It's a beautiful dress and I don't want to ruin it so right now, I'm only concerned with one thing and that's how I get the bloody thing off."
Corsets were not things Gabriel envied in the slightest. After some complications and Cecily's amusement at how his hands were good for some things and utterly useless at others, the dress dropped to the floor and the undergarments soon followed. Fully clothed, Cecily was a siren but, in the flickering light of the fire, with her garments at a pool at her feet, she was an angel, not only beautiful but other-worldly. He moved back to gaze at her naked form, to marvel at the smooth flesh that covered her sharper bones and the fact that this heart-stopping creature was his.
"Run out of compliments?" Cecily whispered shakily, her hands clasped in front of the one part of her body that would take up most of Gabriel's attention tonight.
Her shook his head, dazed, before he began unbuttoning his shirt, slowly, his eyes trained on hers. She swallowed but didn't waver, as his shirt soon joined her clothes on the floor. "To say, maybe. To show, definitely not," he replied lowly, as he walked calmly towards her. She took a few startled steps back before her back hit the armrest of a chair and he trapped her with hands resting on either side of her body, gripping the chair in hope of some self control, as he met her wide eyes with his own heated gaze.
When her hands remained clasped in front of her, Gabriel sighed. "Cecy, are you sure you're ready for this? Maybe we should-"
Quickly, she slapped her now warm palms to his bare chest and he grinned down at her. "I love you," he reminded her softly.
"Show me that you do," she replied, without hesitation and filled with determination.
Gabriel did just that. He kissed her, long and hard, using his tongue as a promise of what he planned to do to her body before picked her up her bottom - which he squeezed as he did so, causing another slap to the chest from his supposed unimpressed but giggling betrothed - and kissed her again, without her having to tiptoe to meet his height. He traced her bare skin, feeling the scars from the runes and the soft skin in between. Gabriel ran his hands through her hair, down her back and the muscles of her shapely legs that curled around him, as she kept her arms around his neck securely, fingernails massaging the hair at the back of his neck as she matched his kisses with her own.
Inexperienced, yes, but Cecily was not one to sit and take whatever Gabriel gave her. She wrestled his tongue for dominance, pulled his hair and bit at his lip. Her naked flesh pressed against his and he knew that he wouldn't last in this controlled way for very long.
Laying her by the fire, he just stared at her - half of her body illuminated by light and the other by shadows. She was no longer quite so otherworldly; instead, she was a woman with the clever quips and brilliant knife throwing skills. She was the one who had not defended Gabriel's ignorance but forced him to look beyond that at the good inside of him. Cecily seemed to bring out the good in his heart and he could only hope he wouldn't bring her goodness down.
Cecily looked up at him and smiled lovingly, as if she could hear his conflicting thoughts. Touching her palm to his cheek, no words were spoken or needed. She loved him and he loved her. That was all there really was to it.
In front of the slowly dying fire, in the dimming yellow light that soon faded towards a more familiar darkness, Gabriel worshipped Cecily's body, as though she really was an angel, with enough passion to bring out the siren that sung his name as he bought her to the top of the world again and again and all with the pure, unquestionable love that he felt for this woman - his doll, his beloved and his soon to be wife.
As their entire beings became one - limb for limb, breath for breath, soul for soul - his name fell of his lips like the sweat of his and her skin combined and she replied with his name before their lips touched as they both found a heaven on earth. Their hands clasped together tightly and their joyous, wordless callings echoed the once empty house, bringing it to life.
Neither spoke for a long time, their breathing shallow and their bodies drenched in perspiration before Gabriel rolled his exhausted body off Cecily's. He used one hand to hold hers still and the other to search in the now dark room for her cloak. Finding it, he pulled it over their naked bodies and, for the longest of time the both of them could lay in silence, they just held onto each other.
Cecily pressed her cheek against his chest, listening to his heart, still beating wildly. His arms went around her, securing her, protecting her and, after a few silent moments, Cecily allowed herself to cry openly in front of another Shadowhunter, the tears falling over upturned lips as Gabriel kissed her face gently and repeatedly, his own eyes wet and his own chest shaking with laughter.
Once they were silent again, Cecily turned to grin up at him. "I'd give you an 8 out of 10."
Gabriel raised an eyebrow, biting back a grin at the inside joke that had started their friendship before it had turned into love. "An 8?" he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Oh, yes. Promising technique but could be better," she told him, blinking innocently.
"And the execution?" he growled softly, nudging the side of her head with his nose in affection.
"Good but it could use some practice," she teased, kissing his chin.
Gabriel chuckled before kissing her swollen lips gently. "I've got some time to work on all that, I suppose?"
"Not if Will catches us."
He groaned, dropping his head to her shoulder, and she giggled in response. "A piece of advice, my love. Don't mention your brother after I've made love to you."
"Noted," she replied cheerily. "When do you want to practice again?"
Gabriel raised her head to meet her sweet smile and sparkling eyes. "Sweet heavens, woman. I'm not going anywhere for a while after that. We have our whole lives to practice. Again and again. And again. And again." He kissed her neck and she shivered. "And again."
Cecily shrugged casually. "It's not that. I'm just wary of Will showing up and throwing you into the fireplace."
Gabriel laughed loudly and easily. "Don't fret. I'm very good with handling Herondales at my door," he reminded her. He moved some of her curls out of her eyes and gently pressed his lips to her forehead. "Go to sleep, my love."
Cecily kissed his mouth tenderly. "I love you, Mr Lightwood."
Gabriel smiled at the light in her eyes and, for once, felt worthy of this remarkable creature in his arms. "I love you too, Mrs Lightwood."