A/N: This is a little AU that I concocted a few days ago, and since I'm sadly obsessed with Blackstairs and the Blackthorn family and basically anything to do with TDA, I decided to post this!
In this AU, Emma and Julian were never friends (although Emma was still born and raised in California) and after the Mortal War and her parent's death, she moved to London to live with Jem and Tessa in the London Institute. Everyone's ages are the same (eg. Emma and Julian were 12 during the war). More details will be revealed as the story moves on! I hope you enjoy!
Emma Carstairs sat in the library, staring out the window at the rain that was pouring down upon the streets of London. Her copy of The Shadowhunter's Codex lay forgotten on her lap as she distracted herself from her studies by watching mundanes run for shelter from the deluge. Her distraction was short-lived as her guardian (and sixth-cousin-once-removed) Jem Carstairs entered the room. Emma ducked her head back to her book, but Jem wasn't fooled.
"Emma, were you people-watching again?" He asked mock-angrily. Emma nodded and Jem smiled. "That's alright. I think you've studied enough for today anyway. You may go." Emma snapped her book closed and retreated to her bedroom with a thankful smile in Jem's direction. Jem watched her go before going in search of Tessa, his loving wife.
Emma turned on her music and lay on her bed, staring at her ceiling aimlessly. She closed her eyes and let the sounds of rain and cars lull her into a light doze. Hours passed with Emma lost in her own mind, and the only time she reentered the world was when Tessa knocked on her door.
"Emma, it's time to eat dinner." Emma blinked her brown eyes sleepily and obediently rolled off her bed and followed Tessa downstairs. The London Institute was much larger than the Institute in California that she was raised in, but she loved it just the same. It was just Jem, Tessa, and herself living in the huge church, and Emma enjoyed the ever-present silence. She had been an only child in her old life, so she welcomed the peace and quiet.
Emma's life, like that of so many others, had been disrupted by the Mortal War, and the changes to her world were so great that she referred to her life before the age of 12 as her "old life". This was not abnormal for Emma, as she liked everything strictly defined and broken-down. She was a very driven Shadowhunter and she expected excellence from herself in every area – training, studying, and fighting.
She pulled out her chair and sat at the dinner table, smiling at Jem who was reading through the day's mail. Tessa swatted his arm with a napkin until he set his correspondence aside and began eating his dinner. Emma picked at her chicken for a moment before taking a small bite.
"Is everything alright, Emma?" Tessa asked with a frown, noticing the girl's odd habits. Emma nodded, chewing her bite.
"Let her be, Tessa." Jem advised, cutting a forkful of green beans in half. "She's probably just tired. I gave her quite a workout during training today!" Emma smirked at him, eating a bite of beans. She and Jem had drilled for hours on short-sword fighting, using her weapon of choice, Cortana, as a model. They had worked until Emma had finally bested Jem in a duel, something that made her very proud.
Tessa studied her surrogate daughter's face for a moment. "Emma, Jem and I need to talk to you about something." Emma sat up straighter, sure that they were going to scold her for something she'd done, but both of her guardians' postures looked relaxed.
"The Council has summoned Tessa and I to Idris," Jem began, "and I don't want to leave you here alone. Would you be alright coming to Idris with us?" Emma blinked.
"I know it might be hard to go back there, sweetheart, especially since you've not been back since the war, but- " Tessa broke off as Emma nodded. "Is that a yes? You'd like to come?" Emma nodded again and smiled slightly. Jem sighed.
"Good. We leave tomorrow night."
After a few more minutes of dinner, Emma excused herself from the table, running to her room under the guise of packing for the trip to Idris. She locked her bedroom door and leaned against it, her heart hammering against her ribcage. Running her hands through her thick blonde hair, she paced the room, attempting to breathe deeply to calm her racing heart and squeezing lungs. Things she had seen during the war flashed through her head without her consent and she knelt on the floor as she discovered it was too hard to breathe while standing up. No, no, no, no, no, she screamed in her head as the memories grew stronger. Strangled noises were all she could manage as her fists clutched the rug on the floor until her tremors subsided and she was able to stand.
She stared at herself in the mirror. Her face was red and blotchy from tears she didn't know she had shed during her episode, and her palms were sore from where her fingernails had gouged them. Emma looked a bit closer at herself as she noticed a new scar on her neck – no doubt from that Shax demon she and Jem had killed last night. She didn't look at her reflection very much; why should her appearance matter? True, her long hair, big eyes, and toned Shadowhunter's figure made her desirable to all sorts of Downworlders and demons, but she only had use for those feminine wiles when she was hunting demons in the Downworld nightclubs along what used to be Whitechapel High Street. On an average day, Emma only cared about her appearance long enough to throw her hair into a braid and put on clothing that matched. The only aspect of her appearance Emma loved were her scars. They decorated her arms, legs, torso, neck, and face – almost every inch of her – and she liked it. Each scar was a testament to a battle fought and won. The only scar that didn't receive any love from its wearer was a long jagged scar on the inside of her arm. Emma hated that scar more than anything, and it was the reason that she was self-conscious enough to always wear long sleeves when going out.
Emma stepped back from the mirror and began packing, a task that took her not more than ten minutes. When she was finished, she brushed her teeth and hair and readied for bed, knowing that the time difference in Idris would be terrible, so she had better get some sleep.
At half past midnight, Jem quietly pushed the door to his surrogate daughter's room open. He was relieved to see that she was fast asleep, and closed the door lightly so as not to wake her. Turning back to his bedroom, he jumped as Tessa appeared in front of him. "You should be in bed, my love." He said affectionately, touching her cheek.
"I was waiting for you, Jem." She smiled. "Are you still worried about her?" Jem nodded, his eyes flicking back to Emma's room.
"I don't know how this trip will affect her. The trauma from the war is still too raw, even four years later. I'm afraid of what a visit to Idris will mean for her."
Tessa laid a gentle hand on her husband's arm. "Jian, don't worry so. She will be alright. She is strong of mind, just like you are. We'll make sure that she stays safe." Jem relaxed under her touch.
"I know, my Tessa." He kissed her lightly. "Now come on; it's time for bed."
Emma's eyes widened as they stepped out of the portal the next evening. Alicante was grander than she remembered, or maybe it was the lit-up demon towers and all the Shadowhunters teeming in the streets that made the city seem bigger than her mind recalled.
"Stick close, Emma." Jem called as he and Tessa picked their way to the Gard. Don't need to tell me twice, Emma thought to herself, following her guardians closely. Once they arrived, Jem and Tessa exchanged words with Jia Penhallow and a sour-looking Robert Lightwood before setting off for the house they would be occupying for the next week. Emma avoided looking at the Accords Hall, clenching her hands into fists. Don't think, don't think, don't think, she chanted to herself. By focusing on watching all the Shadowhunters of various race, background, and customs, she was able to keep her mid clear until they arrived at the home they were staying at. The Carstairs family didn't possess a house in Alicante, so they would be sharing a home with another family.
Emma chose a small room with one bed for herself, not quite willing to share a space with a stranger. She tucked her bag under her bed, strapped Cortana around her waist, and wrote a note for Jem, telling him that she was going for a walk. Despite the fact that it was getting dark, she knew that Jem trusted her to be out alone as long as she was carrying witchlight. Exiting the house, she walked around the back, avoiding the crowds as she set off towards the plains of Idris. Their house was on the edge of the city, so it would be easy for her to get some peace and quiet whenever she wanted.
She walked away from the city, going along a rocky path towards the forest, enjoying the sight of the stars above her. You could hardly see them in London and she had forgotten how beautiful they were. She was so enamored by the peaceful night that she didn't notice the demon until it was right on top of her. Literally.
Julian Blackthorn had decided to go for a walk before bed, leaving Diana Wrayburn, his family's training instructor, in charge of the younger kids. He wanted to find a safe place to smoke away from the kids and just the city in general. He hated the sight of Alicante, hated the memories of what he had done in the Accords Hall four years ago, and he just wanted an escape. It was too dark to sit outside and paint, so he took his cigarettes and lighter and retreated to the edge of the forest, following the smooth rock path that had been laid years ago.
He flicked the lighter on and was about to light his cigarette when he saw something that caught his eye – a demon emerging from the woods and lunging at something. Julian doused his light and closed his hand around the dagger on his belt, running silently toward where he had seen the demon pounce. It was looming over the fallen Shadowhunter, digging its claws into their arm.
"Hey!" He shouted, trying to get the demon's attention. It growled and turned towards him, but didn't get off the other person. Instead of leaping over its victim's head and charging Julian like he hoped, the demon merely continued attacking the already wounded figure. Julian panicked and, on instinct, threw his knife. It sailed end-over-end and landed soundly in the demon's chest. With a shriek, it pulled back and began to disintegrate, but Julian didn't notice. His blood was rushing in his ears and his heart was pounding. What have I done?
Stop it, he told himself, forcing his mind away from the past. It was a demon, not a person. He hadn't thrown a knife since the Mortal War, and his own finesse scared him.
He stopped his mental tirade as he approached the form on the ground. It was a female with long blonde hair, maybe about his age. She was conscious but in pain, as evidenced by how she was holding her bleeding arms.
"Here, let me fix that." Julian said, withdrawing a stele from his boot. She looked warily at him but held out her arm, her pain obviously outweighing her pride. Julian drew careful iratzes on the stranger's arm, noticing her numerous battle scars as he did so. He finished both of her arms and looked up only to see her looking at him too, a strange expression on her face. He swallowed, suddenly nervous, and dropped her arm, tucking his stele away. "Are you okay?" He asked, noticing her ashen face. She nodded, staring at her hands in her lap. Julian saw the sword at her side and wondered curiously why she hadn't defended herself. Maybe she was just caught off guard.
The girl was poking at his cigarette, which had fell to the ground along with Julian's lighter. "That's mine," he said, his face flushing. Shadowhunters were supposed to be above addictions. The girl merely blinked at him, her brown eyes shining in the dim light cast on them from the demon towers. "What's your name?" He asked, intrigued. He would've loved to draw her, all proud features and steely eyes and strong muscles. Her lips parted briefly before a look of frustration flashed across her face. Sighing, she lit the end of Julian's cigarette and used the ash to write on the rock path underneath them.
'Emma Carstairs.'
Now Julian was really confused. "W-why aren't you talking? Are you okay?" Emma made a rasping noise of frustration in the back of her throat before lighting the cigarette again.
'I can't talk. I'm not able to.'
Julian looked at the girl in shock as she snuffed out the cigarette, her face obscured by her long hair. "You can't?" He asked in shock, forgetting his manners. She shook her head, facing him. Under any other circumstances, Julian would have said a farewell and retreated to smoke, not giving this stranger a second glance, but there was something about her sad, closed eyes and her impenetrable mental walls that made him want to stay with her.
"May I sit out here with you?" He asked, his voice soft so as not to scare her. She was still for a moment before nodding tentatively. Julian sat down cross-legged in the grass next to his new companion. He was fully aware of her eyes upon him, but he kept his gaze on the sky.
You're going to be something else, aren't you, Emma Carstairs? He thought to himself as a shooting star cut across the night sky.
