A/N: So I read CoHF last weekend and I could not help but think of this. Beware the spoilers.
Disclaimer: I don't own TMI. Or Simon Lewis. (Or the cover; it was drawn by Miniartbypappy on deviantART.)
It's Simon's first Shadowhunter training lesson, and he can already tell that it's not going to be fun. He may be a Shadowhunter now—the ceremony was about a week before, and his first markings came the day after that—but apparently, gracefulness and agility isn't something that comes with the deal, and it turns out that he, Simon Lewis, is completely and pathetically weak. (And sadly, nothing he's learned from D&D is going to help him, either.)
Everyone is crowded into the training room to watch him: Izzy, Alec, Magnus, Clary and Jace. Well, Jace is technically his tutor, and Clary is there to "play referee" and to "give him moral support" (quote-unquote), but everyone else is, he's pretty sure, just there for the entertainment. (Simon hopes he gives them a damn good show when he falls on his face and manages to stab himself with his own spear. On the plus side, at least he can be iratzed now.)
"Okay, Simon," Jace starts, rubbing his hands together. "Let's see what you've got in your scrawny, pale, un-muscled arms." Clary and Isabelle throw Jace disapproving looks, which makes Simon feel a little bit better. His arms are not that pale, for God's sake. "Let's see if you can manage to almost hit the target."
Simon focuses his gaze on the vaguely human-shaped target set up about fifteen yards away, hefting the spear experimentally. It's not terribly heavy—it's actually pretty light, considering the runed metal it was carved out of—so it's possible to hit the target. Maybe. But amazingly, when he pulls his arm back and lets the spear fly from his hands, it does hit the target—right in the crotch. He can't help the reflexive wince that follows.
"Congratulations, Simon," Jace says dryly, smirking as he breaks out into sarcastic applause. Clary's laughing behind her hand; when Simon looks behind him, so is Isabelle. Even Alec and Magnus are grinning. "You just impaled a demon in the groin."
"Come on, guys," Simon whines, pouting petulantly. "Give me a break. Not all of us are born with superhuman agility and weapon skills."
"Actually, that's just me," Jace responds instantly. "Don't let it fool you: Alec and Isabelle both had to work on the agility and weapon-handling."
Everyone around the room—save Jace, of course—immediately rolls their eyes and/or groans. Simon distinctly hears Alec mutter something that sounds a lot like "glass mole".
"Now," Jace says, ignoring everyone, "let's try that again. Hopefully this time, you can not hit the dummy in the crotch."
Simon sighs. It's going to be a long day.