Jace and clary shook the snow from their shoulders and hair upon entering the manor. The foyer was dim, only letting shreds of light come in from behind the burgundy velvet curtains. But from what Jace could see, there were paintings covering every inch of the walls, all pertaining to a different piece of shadowhunter history. A puff of dust dispersed throughout the room as clary ripped the curtains apart, letting white light from the snow flood in.

"Wow." Was all Jace could say. A grand staircase was the focal point of the room, which split into two tiers of the upper levels. The stairs seemed to wrap around the two luxurious pillars that rose to the 3-story ceiling.

Clary could barely take a step forward. Her eyes, absorbing the beauty of the paintings and the rich nephilim architecture. Growing up in a Manhattan brown stone, she had never glimpsed a home as incredible as this, unless you count HGTV. She felt her fingers twitch at her side, itching to have a pencil in her hand. The paintings, were they pre-Raphaelite, renaissance, medieval? She didn't know, she also didn't care. They were so alluring.

"Jia Penhallow told me no ones been in here since the uprising. Everything's been left as it was. But if you ask me, the least they could have done was dust a little." Said Jace, swiping his fingers along the filthy banister.

"Well," Clary started, " when fighting a war that could have wiped the earth's entire population, I don't think the Clave's first priority was dusting." She shot Jace a look but all he did was laugh and pulled her to his side as they ascended the stairway.

The wooden steps creaked under their boots, echoing through the house. As Jace started toward the west wing, Clary viciously wrenched his arm to the right wing.

At the head of the steps was a long hallway with at least 10 doors on each side. At the end of the corridor was an immense red door. Its color barely faded for the amount of time it had been left unattended. As the only speck of color in sight, Clary was drawn to it. She made her way down the passage with Jace on her heels.

The door was stiff at first but finally gave through to an extravagant clearance. From what Jace could tell, it was some type of recreational room.

In the corner stood a grand concert Piano, the seat overflowing with sheet music. Around it were chairs forming a circle spread throughout the room. It looked as though the interior decorating hadn't been updated since the Victorian era, which only fascinated Clary more.

She moved to the center of the room and spun taking in the scenery she could only dream of. As for Jace, he was motionless. Not that he wasn't impressed, but when looking at the piano or chairs, he could only imagine Stephen or Celine sitting there. Although he'd only seen them in the few photographs Hodge and Jocelyn had owned, the visions felt unsettlingly real.

He imagined the Circle's members gathered here, in one of the most exquisite shadow hunter homes in Idris, planning the uprising or simply enjoying the sound of the piano.

His thoughts were cut short by Clary's fiddling with an easel in the other corner.

Jace made his way over to her, "If my family had any artistic talent, I sure didn't inherit it."

"I think that's been established." She replied, too absorbed in the easel to even look up at him. "It's a shame," she started, gesturing to the chest of assorted paints, "they're all dried up… This looks like something my mother would love to have."

But Jace had already walked away, interested in something else. Above the fireplace, which took nearly the entire wall was a delicate, unswept violin. It sat in a wooden case where it had been perfectly fitted many years ago. Upon the case was bronze plate that read Zhe shi jie shang, wo shi zui ai ne de –Carstairs.

"Huh." Jace said to himself, "I wonder why this is here." He pointed to the box as Clary joined him by his side.

"Zachariah did say something about a former Carstairs- Herondale alliance. This violin must be at least 100 years old. They don't make them like that anymore."

And inside the box was a faint, perishing photograph, showing a silent brother, hood up, playing the very violin in their presence. The face of the brother had faded from exposure and time itself.

And behind the Violin, upon the wall, was another painting similar to those in the foyer. But this one was of, yet again, a silent brother. It stretched from the head of the mantle to the 11-foot ceiling. The silent brother depicted was unrecognizable due to the likeness of the dark shadows shielding his face. But something about his stature and delicate, musician-like hands was familiar to both Clary and Jace.

The rest of the rooms of the East wing were empty guest rooms and collection rooms of china and assorted weaponry all sporting the iconic Herondale Heron on the hilts.

Upon entering the west wing, it was considerably smaller than the east wing, donning only a series of 5 doors. Two on each side and one at the end of the hall. Jace made his way to the first door on the right and pushed it open.

Like the rest of the house it was dreary and smelled a bit mildewed. With their first steps into, the room lit up in an instant. A witch light chandelier hung from the ceiling glowing in all its glory.

Jace sucked in a breath upon sight of the room's decoration. Directly under the chandelier was a wooden basinet. The wood adorned with runes and heron engravings. By the picture window on the far wall, was a rocking chair. Along with other furniture, Jace knew what this was. It was his nursery.

This is where he would have been born, where he could of grown up. A life he would never get to life, a normal child. Well, as normal as a shadowhunter childhood could get. He could have grown up with two loving parents in a stable home with stable values and maybe even brothers and sisters.

"Jace," Clary grabbed his arm "Maybe we should go see the other rooms." She started to lead him out of the room but his feet felt glued to the floor.

He placed his hand over hers, "No, its okay. Yes, I miss the life I could have had. But if you think about it, if I had grown up here, I may not be the Jace I am today, the Jace you love." He smiled at her and leaned down to kiss her. "It's just curious to think about how different I would be if I had a different life."

"I think about that sometimes too. That's what I saw with when we entered Edom. My life with a normal Valentine and a normal Jonathon. It may have been a heart desire being materialized by a demon but I was still marrying you. I'd like to think no matter who we would've been; we would still end up together. I was made for you and you were made for me. We bring out the best in each other and in other lives we will always find each other."

"By the angel, I love you" he intertwined his fingers with hers and kissed her forehead.

"And who knows," Clary said, "maybe we can use this room later." She smiled. Jace's eyes widened in shock. Clary couldn't help but laugh. "I mean a lot later, don't worry."

The next room had been locked, but with a brief unlocking rune it had pushed open. It was the largest room they'd been in yet. It had been the master bedroom. A four-poster bed was at the head of the room with a mattress completely stripped. There was a couch and loveseats on another side.

"This is where it happened." Jace said. "This is where my mother died, this is where I was born." Jace started to wander around the room. Observing every little detail of the room. He tried to imagine a new life here. His life with Clary as his wife and their future family.

He'd never really thought about his future and his life after the Dark war. That was probably due to the fact that he didn't want to get his hopes up if Sebastian had won. But now for the first time in months, Jace was carefree. He could love Clary with all his being with no fear of their entire species being killed. When Clary had brought up the nursery being put to use, it sparked something in him. Jace had never even considered having children in his lifetime, which was probably because he was a teenage boy. But he couldn't help but wonder if he would even make a good father. Jace had never had a real, loving father figure growing up unless you count Robert Lightwood who was still very distant. And of course there was Valentine, but Jace hoped no one wanted to be a father like him.

"Jace come here!" Clary's voice sounded from around the corner of the room. She was inside that large walk in closet still very full of clothing. There were dresses suits and training gear. But what Clary was holding was exquisite. It was a gold wedding dress adorned in gold lace and beads. She held it close to her body and twirled as though she was wearing it. Celine must have been nearly the same size as clary for the dress looked as though it would fit perfectly to her petite body. Jace couldn't help but smile at her, she was so perfect with her red hair spinning around her he just wanted to wrap her up in his arms.

But behind her was a spiral staircase that must have led to the third story. Clary hung up the dress and followed Jace up the stairs. The third story of the manor was not full of halls as the rest of the manor. Instead it was on large room the size of the house. It must have been added on to the original manor due to different eras of architecture.

The whole floor was a grand library, which reminded Clary of the pictures of the library at Buckingham palace. Jace had never seen a library like this in a manor. It was even larger than the library back at the New York institute.

Books covered every square inch of the walls. Rolling ladders were amongst the walls, untouched for years. A second floor balcony circled the room containing even more books.

Clary didn't even notice her mouth hanging open. Jace tugged her forward, gazing at the wonderland of books. A large desk was to the right of them, left as it had been 17 years ago. Clave papers were stacked perfectly on either side of the desk. Three pens were perfectly aligned next to a hardback book.

"It looks like my father was just as neat as me" Jace said with a chuckle. He lifted up the book on the desk. It was a hardback of A Tale of Two Cities. He flipped it open, not expecting to see the same inscription from one of his ancestors. But there it was. He flipped to Clary, holding the book open for her. "I thought we left this in Sebastian's apartment."

"We did. I thought it would have gotten destroyed when I blew it up. How did it get here?" Clary said taking the book from his hands.

Jace was beyond confused, "I honestly have no idea."

They walked over to the seating area with a chaise lounge and loveseats. On the wall was another fireplace, there seemed to be one in every room. But above the expertly carved fireplace was what was amazing.

Another painting leaned against the wall as the other one had in the recreational room. But instead of a silent brother this one had a couple in it. The woman in the painting was strangely familiar, Clary had the strange feeling she had seen her somewhere in Alicante. The only thing was, the couple was both dressed in Victorian attire, and they would both most likely be dead.

The girl in the picture looked no older than 20 perhaps but she was beautiful in a classic kind of way. Her hair was tied up messily with loose strands hanging here and there. Her eyes stood out like lights among darkness though. They were large and shining gray. She was sitting on the chaise lounge right behind Jace and Clary with the Tale of Two Cities novel on her lap. Clary couldn't shake the familiarity of her face though.

As for the man, he stood behind girl with a hand on her shoulder. He was nearly the spitting image of Jace except for a difference in coloring and Jawline.

Where Jace was tan and gold all over, the man had a cold feeling about him. His black wavy hair pushed back just the way Jace's was. And his eyes were sparkling blue almost like the pool of water back in the cave in Edom. His skin was pale and decorated with runes that you could see through the fabric of his thin white shirt. Thought the woman next to him was wearing a long sleeve dress no runes were visible on her skin.

Clary held open the book rereading the inscription, "This must be William Herondale…. And Tessa it says. He looks just like you, Jace."

"I know." He couldn't help but scoot closer.

"I'm going to look around down her for a while." Clary said setting the book down on the coffee table.

Jace headed up the other spiral staircase the second floor balcony. He dragged his fingers along the spine of the books as he walked by. As he neared the the corner of the balcony, he noticed a hallway back behind the bookshelves. He looked down below but clary was too absorbed with something to notice. Jace slipped into the corridor and it immediately lit up. Witch light sconces lined the wall along with family portraits. But something else shocked Jace. Down the way stood a man staring up at one of the paintings. He didn't even notice Jace enter and just continued to stare up. His hands were stuffed down into his slacks as he swayed forward and back.

"Hey!" Jace yelled out to him. The man turned his head shocked to see Jace. "Who are you?" Jace called again. The man pressed his palm to his chest and turned to see if someone was behind him. But it was only the two of them in the hall. The man strode to Jace until his face was perfectly visible. He was the dark haired shadowhunter from the painting downstairs.

"You can see me?" the man said in a deep, british accent.

"Of course I can see you! You're standing right in front of me I'm not blind." Jace couldn't believe what he was seeing. Was this another Herondale? Did he have a living relative?

The man was mumbling to himself and then looked up to Jace, "You must have the same ability I did."

"Did?"

The man laughed to himself. "Seeing ghosts."

Jace choked, "You're a… ghost?"
"Of course I am. I just come back here sometimes to see my family and, of course, my library. I built it for my wife when we got married. We didn't live here full time but when we visited she would spend all her time here." He looked back at the painting, "God I miss my Tess." He turned back to Jace, "But excuse me, I am William Herondale. Who are you and why are you here?"

"I'm Jace-" he stumbled, "uh, Jace Herondale."

"Ah my great great great grandson I assume? Good to know my impeccably good looks haven't died out. Although I still hold the title of Most Enticing Herondale of the last 2 centuries. You did get James's eyes though."

Jace scoffed, "I'm pretty sure that title can only go to the living and I accept it graciously."

"Who is your friend downstairs?" William cocked an eyebrow.

"That's Clary- uh, Fairchild/ Morgenstern, she is the love of my life… like your Tess you keep mentioning."

"I knew she was related to Henry." He laughed to himself. "And yes, Tess was the love of my life. Not a day goes by, that I don't wish I could spend the rest of eternity with her. For she has that long… Us, Herondales, love with all of our hearts. There's only one for us and if we can't have them we don't want anyone else. It's been that way for as long as I can remember."

"That's what Magnus said too."

"Ah Magnus!" William sounded delighted. "And Zachariah, how is he?"

Jace was baffled, "Wait, you know brother Zachariah?"

"Of course! I knew Zachariah before he was Zachariah. He was like a brother to me. My better half. My parabatai."

"His parabatai was you? We saw his faded rune on his neck and he always talked about an affiliation with the Herondales. It was because of you, William Herondale."

"In the flesh," he thought hard, "Well, I mean Electro-magnetic energy or ectoplasm if you will. As pleasant as its been catching up with my descendants I must be going." And like that he was gone.

Jace looked at all the paintings on the walls. The one of William and "his Tess" hung amongst them. The painting also depicted their two young children. A young girl with blue eyes like William's and a girl with gold eyes like Jace.

He continued down the hall looking at all his relatives that were so unfamiliar to him. But at the very end of the hall there was one more painting on the floor, yet to be hung. He picked it up and held it out in front of him.

"Clary!" he called out to her. When she found Jace she smiled.

"Is that your-"

"Parents? Yeah." He said. In the painting were Stephen and Celine holding eachother. They looked happy. Celine was quite pregnant.

"My mom painted this." Clary said. In the corner was Jocelyn's signature.

"Maybe you can paint ours someday." Jace looked at her.

"Maybe." She kissed him.