Tessa gently lifted the old photograph from the small hardwood box. It was one of the few things she treasured in her long life, one of the few things she could never let go. One of the few photographs she had of Will.
It had been taken at the turn of the century, to commemorate a wedding anniversary. Will had been his usual self, stubborn about the whole affair, including his outright refusal that entire morning.
"I don't see a reason for this photograph thing," he had smiled as he spoke. Will had always smiled when he spoke to her. "I know what I look like, I know what you look like. And I've heard these cameras steal your soul."
"Will, please," she had begged, wrapping his hands in hers. "For me, sit for the photograph."
"Tess," he shook his head, still smiling. "My sweet, sweet Tess, you know I would do anything for you."
And he had. As long as Will had lived, he had done whatever Tessa had asked of him. She smiled, running her fingers over Will's handsome face in the old black and white picture. He had even stood with that ridiculous smile on his face before the pond in Hyde Park while the ducks milled around them.
She could remember his panic when the photographer had replaced the lens cap and told them they could move. Will had leapt away from the pond and the ducks that had wandered too close to them, shouting about the cannibalistic qualities the ducks of Hyde Parks possessed and how lucky they were to escape unscathed. The photographer had laughed, thinking Will was joking, possibly mad; Tessa herself had laughed at the antics of her husband, but knew that his fear of ducks was all too real.
Smiling sadly she returned the picture to the box, pulling out the next photograph, one of James and Lucie, her beloved children. They had taken their photo the same day as Will and Tessa. Her children, her lovely, perfect children, captured forever in a photograph taken in Hyde Park when they were teenagers.
In the background of James and Lucie's photograph Tessa could see Matthew Fairchild, taunting the ducks with Will. Though none but Will had feared ducks, everyone in their lives in London had joined him in his campaigns. Tessa could distinctly remember the days spent at the park with the children, Will leading the charge to rid the area of the "beasts" with Jamie and Matthew at either side. She had almost forgotten Will had done the same that day in the park, and that he had drawn Matthew in.
A small laugh escaped her as she picked up the next photograph, one of Jamie and Matthew. The two of them had been so different, but so alike at the same time. The two of them were standing at the edge of the pond, Matthew was laughing, while James looked appalled. It had been the first photograph taken that day, so Will would know that his soul would not be stolen by the camera.
"Come now Jamie, I have done so much for you," Will had said, holding his son's shoulders and directing him to the edge of the pond.
"Shouldn't you be the one to test it? I'm still young after all," James had responded. "I have more to live for," James had grinned at his father, who laughed in return.
"Oh, I know, Matthew," Will had grabbed young Matthew Fairchild by the arm and pulled him into the frame. "This way, if it takes your souls, perhaps it will only take half from each of you."
"Father!" James had cried as Will ran away, leaving the photographer laughing as he took the photo of James and Matthew.
Once Tessa had had another photograph, one of Will with James and Matthew, but Will had given that one to Charlotte and Henry. Tessa supposed that picture was still in the Fairchild Manor somewhere, but she could not be sure.
If she had maintained her relationship with the Fairchild family, Tessa could have gone to search for the photograph. But she had kept her distance. So the picture might as well have not existed.
Sometimes she wanted to talk to the others; the children of her children and Charolette's children, their grandchildren, all the way down to Jace Herondale and Clary Fray. She had left after Will died, she would live forever and none of them would. It had been easier to just leave them, but she still wished she knew them better.
Tessa wished she knew each them as well as she had know Will and Jem, James and Lucie, and their children. She wished she knew the Lightwood children like she had Anna, Christopher, and Alexander. She knew it had been easier in the long run, but they were still her family, and she regretted that she did not know them.
Slowly Tessa returned the pictures of her children, and James and Matthew to the box and picked up the old Herondale rings she had stored there. One belonged to Will, the other to James. She smiled as her thumb ran over the engraved design on Will's ring. She had worn it throughout their marriage, when she had been Tessa Herondale. Upon James' death she took his ring as well, setting it in the box as a keepsake of her son, who had suffered so much just because he was different.
She felt tears welling in her eyes as she slipped Will's ring on her finger, admiring the silver band and the delicately carve herons wrapped around it. When she had first taken it off to place it in the keepsake box her hand felt odd, as if part of her were missing. Of course part of her had been missing, Will was gone. Now the ring was comforting on her finger.
But she had to take it off. She had been a Herondale before, but not now. She was Tessa Gray, a warlock. The Shadowhunter, Tessa Herondale, had died with her husband seventy years ago. Tessa stared at the ring for a full minute before removing it, the feeling that part of her was missing returned in full force, like a wound to the heart. She sniffed, placing Will's ring carefully in the box, and slipping Jamie's in the pocket of her coat.
Next from the box she picked up the old copy of the Codex she had taken from the London Institute. She ran her fingers over the embossed lettering on the back, Milton. Will had always loved Milton, as did Tessa.
"Freely we serve, because we freely love," she whispered holding the book to her chest, "as in our will, to love or not."
"Tessa," Tessa closed her eyes, willing her tears not to run down her cheeks. "Are you ready to go?"
Jem was standing in the door of her room. He looked completely at home in the modern clothing, just as Tessa did. He had adapted well to living in the twenty-first century, if one did not know the truth they would never have been able to guess that Jem was one-hundred and forty-eight years old, not even the other Shadowhunters.
"Yes," she turned to him, smiling as she pocketed the Codex and closed the lid of her keepsake box. "Yes, I'm ready."
Jem held his arm out for her, as he had when they lived in London, and escorted her to the door. She smiled easily, brushing her tears from her cheeks as they walked. The pressure of Jem's hand on hers kept her steady as they left the apartment.
"You plan on telling him? Today?" Jem asked at length while they walked down the street.
"No, I would not burden him like that," she answered, her fingers finding her son's ring in her pocket. "I will just give him Jamie's ring. He deserves a family ring," she gripped the old silver band tightly in her hand, her thumb running over the familiar design wrapped around the band.
"He deserves a family."
"He has one," she smiled, laying her head on Jem's shoulder. "The Lightwoods have taken good care of him, and they will continue to do so, I think. And he has Clary."
"Everyone should be so lucky," she could hear Jem's smile at the comment. She squeezed his hand tighter.
"Yes, they should."