Shadowhunters (TV) -:- The Road Not Taken

A quicker update this time ;P - Thanks again to Miss Anonymous hp for the lovely comment! I hated Lydia too the first time that I watched the show; it wasn't until the second go around that I realised that really she was just doing her job and trying to help - she is so not the villain! As promised, Magnus will be in next chapter (in fact its mostly from his perspective) so hopefully you stick around! Thanks!

Okay, now this chap I have to apologise for a little bit. I'm trying to move the plot along as quickly as possible, and as such I needed to get as many characters caught up on everything as I could, so yeah, long exposition scene ahead! Ugh, sorry. It's only this once, I swear, but please; try and enjoy!

Chapter Four

It was still night out, but the room glowed in the reflections that the stained glass windows threw across the room. An old oak table took centre stage, scratched and worn and covered in scattered papers and tablet computers, a map of the city buried underneath. The walls around them were exposed brick and the floor was ancient flagstone, while a large computer screen took up one side of the room and a one-way glass partition cut them off from the busy room beyond. A modern war room in a historic church.

Clary sat in the middle chair along one length of the table, Simon tucked to her left and Luke on her right. Isabelle and Jace took their seats opposite with Hodge, the man that had been with Luke, tagged on the end. Alec had taken the head seat, his eyes stubbornly focused on anything but the people present and the small piece of paper clutched in his hands.

"What is going on, big brother?" Isabelle broke the silence.

"Valentine is back," Alec announced without preamble. The words were clearly supposed to have weight, but Clary didn't understand why. Isabelle chewed her lip and Jace shifted uncomfortably, his eyes glancing to Hodge and the red circle burned into his neck before dropping to the table. Clary recognised the mark, or 'rune' she guessed that she should probably call it.

The men that had killed her mother had had them.

"And Valentine is?" Simon asked in typical Simon manner. "Other than the patron saint of foam arrows and cheesy greetings cards, that is."

Luke gave a small smile, just a quick quirk of his lips before his expression fell again with a guilty sigh. "Perhaps we should start this with a history lesson," he suggested, looking to Alec for a moment before taking a breath. "Nearly twenty-five years ago I was still a Shadowhunter, and my parabatai was Valentine Morgenstern. He was my best friend and brother, once, and I would have done anything for him."

Jace and Alec shared a look, and Clary remembered what Izzy had told her about parabatai. It sounded weirdly intimate; a permanent bond closer than brothers but different from love, and breaking that bond... Izzy said that it could be fatal. Luke's hand was unconsciously rubbing at his forearm where once a rune had probably been burned into his skin. Since being Turned, all of his marks had faded, but Clary suspected that Luke still remembered each and every one.

"Back then, the Downworld was in chaos as the Clave tried to renegotiate the new Accords, and a lot of Shadowhunters were losing their lives in petty skirmishes," Luke explained. "One of the casualties was Valentine's father, who was killed in an altercation with a werewolf Alpha. It completely changed Valentine."

Hodge grumbled something under his breath, but Luke ignored him. "We were a small group of friends when he first started talking. He was charismatic and smart and what he was saying actually made sense to us. He just wanted to protect Shadowhunters from dying pointless deaths while all the Clave did was hold meetings and debates that never went anywhere. He wanted us to be more proactive, stopping Downworlder problems before the Clave would typically have intervened.

"But then he started leading hunting parties into Downworlder territory, accusing them of various crimes to support his actions," Luke shook his head in shame. "It took us far too long to realise that the claims were baseless and he was simply playing judge, jury, and... and executioner, with no proof beyond the fact that the 'guilty' were Downworlders."

"Why didn't the Clave stop him?" Clary asked, horrified.

Luke scoffed humourlessly. "The Clave believed his lies just like the rest of us. We all thought that we were doing good. Even as Valentine spiralled quickly he was still so good at getting people to see things his way. The Circle kept growing every day. We had all lost someone – Shadowhunters are soldiers, loss is inevitable – but Valentine made it seem like it was all avoidable if only we would rise up and take control."

It all seemed so ridiculous to Clary. How could these people have not seen that what they were doing was wrong? Why were Valentine's lies so easily believed? And how could Luke have been a part of it?

"Eventually I found out that his hate ran deeper than his father's loss," Luke continued. "Valentine was jealous of the power and gifts that Downworlders possess, and started experimenting with their blood, trying to gain that power for himself. It twisted him even further, even crueller than before. I saw it, his wife saw it, but the Circle was still going strong and there didn't seem to be any way to stop it.

"And then Valentine made a play for the Mortal Cup."

Simon leaned forward so that he could see past Clary. "And that would be?"

"One of the Mortal Instruments entrusted to us by the Angel Raziel," Isabelle answered. "There's the Mortal Mirror which has been lost for centuries, the Mortal Sword that can force whoever holds it to tell only the truth, and the Mortal Cup. It has the power to control demons, and can create new Shadowhunters if mundanes were to drink from it."

"So Valentine wants the Cup thing to make a demon army?" Simon struggled to understand.

Alec clenched his teeth. "No, he wants to create a Shadowhunter army."

Izzy's eyes widened at her brother's words. "But that's forbidden," she exclaimed, "and actually for a genuine reason. Drinking from the cup is more likely to burn up a mundane or drive them insane. Valentine could kill hundreds just to turn enough people for a for a fireteam."

"That doesn't matter to him," Luke scoffed bitterly. "Downworlders collectively outnumber Shadowhunters massively. If all of them, all of the werewolves, vampires, warlocks and seelies, were to band together, the Clave wouldn't stand a chance. Valentine is afraid of them, jealous of them and wants to destroy all of them. If he ever gets his hands on the Cup, there would be a genocide."

"That's what they were looking for at Clary's apartment," Jace said. "I heard one of the Circle Members asking Cl- asking for the Cup, but why would they think she had it?"

The air felt heavy in the room, the sudden warmth stifling despite the autumn chill. Luke ducked his head and then nodded at Alec, who was clutching the piece of paper in his hands even tighter than before. He shot an apprehensive look at his sister, before flipping the paper over and placing it on the table.

It was a photograph. An old one, creased from where Alec had held it, but otherwise in good condition as if it had been kept in a frame. From its surface a group of eight or so people smiled at the camera, all dressed in Shadowhunter black and adorned with runes, and more than a few weapons, despite the casualness of the image. Izzy gasped when she saw it, her hand reaching for it, but Clary was quicker. There, almost right in the centre, was Jocelyn Fray.

"That... that's my Mom..." Clary stuttered. "She, she was a part of the Circle? Why? How?"

Luke couldn't meet her eyes, so Alec leaned forward, pointing at the young man in the middle of the frame. "This guy, standing right next to her? That's Valentine Morgenstern. Jocelyn Morgenstern's husband."

Luke took a breath that sounded painful. "He's your father, Clary."

Clary didn't think that her world could have broken apart any more than it already had, but she was wrong. Her mother, the one constant in her life, was gone, brutally taken from her, and it felt like she were drowning in the pain of it. From there it was just one hit after another: a whole other world that her Mom had hidden from her, all the lies that were suddenly coming to light... And now her father, the man she had secretly always wished wasn't as dead as her mother had told her...

Well, her wish had come true. In the worst way possible.

It was too much. Oh, god, it was too much. The rug had been pulled out from under her feet and she was still falling, scrabbling for purchase when there was none to be had. Simon grabbed her hand and she clung to it like a lifeline; only mildly aware of the conversation still going on as she stood in the crater that last bombshell had left her in.

"Our parents...?" Isabelle was saying, her dark eyes dancing from the photo in Clary's hands, to Alec, and then to Hodge. "Our parents were part of the Circle too? But... but they have no rune-"

"A lot of people were part of the C-c-c-gah!" Hodge broke off with a cry of pain. The raw looking circle rune flared as if it were being seared anew, cutting off whatever he had been trying to say.

Izzy winced in sympathy. "But you were cursed, imprisoned in this Institute, punished for your crimes," she said in disbelief, apparently referencing the reaction Hodge had just had. "My parents... no one even knows! They were given an Institute! My father is the goddamn Inquisitor!"

Hodge grimaced. "The Lightwood name holds more weight than Starkweather. They defected just before the U-Uprising," he hissed through clenched teeth, the rune actually smoking a little. "They gave the Clave intel that I couldn't and... well, they had a bargaining chip that I've never had. They had Alec. Raising another soldier, and the potential of creating more... That will always be more valuable to the Clave than a traitor."

At the mention of Alec, Isabelle turned on her brother. "How long have you known? Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Why does my f-" Clary interrupted. Her voice croaked and broke around the word 'father', so she cleared her throat and tried again. "Why does Valentine think that my Mom had the Cup?"

Alec looked relieved at the change of topic and carefully avoided his sister's glare. "She took it from him."

Luke nodded. "During the Uprising, Valentine led the Circle into the middle of the signing of the New Accords. It would have been a slaughter had Jocelyn and I not been able to convince the Clave and the Downworlders in attendance of the danger. It was chaos, and Valentine used that to break into the Sanctuary and steal the Mortal Cup. I tried to stop him, but I couldn't. It was Jocelyn that took the Cup from him and fled."

Clary tried to picture her Mom; quiet, friendly Jocelyn Fray, standing up to a madman and winning a fight that Luke couldn't. The image just didn't fit with everything that she had ever known, and it just made her feel as if she had never known her mother at all.

"I thought that she was dead for a long time," Luke said sadly. "The last I saw, Valentine was chasing after her and then she vanished. I heard that their home had been burned to the ground and that the Clave had found evidence that he had been killed by the flames. I never truly believed it though. Years later I found you and Jocelyn in New York, living a completely mundane life."

"But she's a Shadowhunter," Jace pointed out. "She has the Sight."

"Jocelyn found a warlock to cast a spell to suppress it, periodically refreshing it and removing any memories that revealed the Shadow World."

Clary whipped around to stare at Luke. "She took my memories?"

"To protect you," Luke placed a hand on Clary's arm designed to reassure. "Everything she ever did was to protect you. Valentine never knew that he had a daughter, and your mother wanted to keep it that way."

Clary furrowed her brow in confusion, looking again at the picture in her hands. Though her mother was still clad in the gear of a Shadowhunter, there was no mistaking the rotund protrusion of her belly. "How could he not know...? She's clearly-" Clary blinked, a horrible thought occurring to her. "When was this picture taken?"

It was Hodge that answered. "Twenty-two years ago."

"But I'm eighteen. She's pregnant. Who-" Clary's voice dropped to a whisper. "Who is she pregnant with?"

No one seemed to want to answer that question either, making Clary's stomach twist painfully as worst case scenarios rushed through her mind. After a moment, Alec bit the bullet. "Their first kid. Jonathan Morgenstern."

"I have a brother?"

"You had a brother," Alec ripped the bandaid off quickly. "After the fire, Clave investigators found two sets of remains; one adult male, and one... infant. It was assumed that Valentine killed his wife and then took his own life and his son's in the fire."

Clary couldn't even react anymore. She thought that terrible things were supposed to happen in three's, but she had lost count by now. Her Mom's dead. Her father was a genocidal maniac. And she had a brother that didn't even make it to two. What was she supposed to do with this? How was she supposed to cope? She had had so many questions... but the answers... the answers were so much worse.

"But if Valentine's alive, who did he kill instead?" Jace asked. He was watching Clary in concern, but it was taking all of her focus just remembering to breathe to really pay him any attention.

Alec shrugged. "No one knows. All the Clave cares about is the fact that the Cup is still out there and Valentine wants it. They've been searching for it since they lost it, but they upped the priority when Circle Members started coming out of hiding." He sighed, his shoulders hunching as if it were possible for his six foot something frame to shrink smaller. "A couple of months ago they issued a mandate for all Institute Heads to focus on the search without actually telling anyone what it was they were looking for. Anything suspicious was to go through the Inquisitor. They figured Valentine might have something to do with the Mundie blood case because he's experimented before-"

"The Demonic Murders?" Luke queried. "The pack's been following that too. The NYPD thinks its Satanism. We were looking at vampires for a while, but no bites. But why would Valentine be interested in mundane blood?"

Simon squeezed Clary's hand. "Let me get this straight. A megalomaniac wants a magic cup so that he can be the next Hitler, but no one knows where said cup is because Jocelyn hid it. I take it she didn't tell you either, Luke, right?"

"We both agreed that it was best if she were the only one that knew."

"Okay, so, no one can find it," Simon concluded. "I highly doubt that Jocelyn left a map and a series of clues for us to follow like Indiana Jones. So why doesn't the Clave just leave it lost? It's not like they could use it either."

"Because as long as it is out there, there is the possibility that V-V-V-" Hodge grunted in frustration and pain. "-that monster can find it and use it."

Luke smirked. "And pride probably comes into play as well. It was stolen right out from under them by one of their most praised Shadowhunters after all."

"The thing is, as far as the Clave is concerned, there is someone who can find it," Alec said apprehensively. "You."

Clary snapped out of her daze as she felt Alec's eyes on her. "Me? But I didn't even know this world existed a week ago! I don't know anything about the stupid Cup, and even if I did, half my memories have been erased!"

Alec glanced at his siblings then down at the table. "There's a way around that," he muttered. "They'll take you to the Silent Brothers and put you to the Sword."

"No." Both Izzy and Jace denied with a vehemence that surprised Clary.

"The Mortal Sword?" she questioned, wondering why the Lightwood's seemed so against it. "But how can I tell a truth that I don't even know? Would the whatever brothers be able to get my memories back?"

"No," Jace repeated forcefully.

"It depends," Izzy answered more diplomatically, earning a glare from Jace. "It's incredibly risky, and if the warlock that took your memories was powerful, the Silent Brothers wouldn't stand a chance anyway. Considering what your mother went through to protect you, I doubt that she trusted your memories to some two-bit summoner."

Luke huffed an ironic laugh. "It was Magnus Bane."

Izzy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, the Silent Brothers would be useless. But on the plus side, Bane's local."

"And we have something of his that we can bargain with for his co-operation-" Hodge added before a knock at the door interrupted him. One of the Shadowhunters from the main room popped his head around the door, his eyes going straight to Alec.

"Alec? The Inquisitor's here."

Izzy's eyebrows shot up. "Dad?"

Alec sighed. "Crap."

Seven Years Ago...

Robert Lightwood pulled at the tie that had been striving to cut off his air supply for the past three hours. It felt like a noose around his neck, getting tighter and tighter as the wedding ceremony had gone on and on, but he hadn't made a move to loosen it. He just kept telling himself that there was nothing he could do.

It was for the best.

Maryse stood before the mirror in their bedroom, smiling at her reflection as she removed her earrings, until her dark eyes settled on Robert over her shoulder. "Whatever it is that has got you so wound up I suggest that you get over it."

"He's seventeen years old, Maryse." The words escaped him unbidden, and Robert instantly wished that he could take them back. All at once it was as if the temperature in the room had actually dropped a few degrees, as Maryse straightened and turned to settle her glare directly on him.

"So was I," she stated simply, daringly. "And you were barely any older. Do you believe that we were too young? That our marriage was a mistake?"

There was no right way to answer that, Robert knew, so he stayed carefully silent. In truth, he had married Maryse because it had been the logical next step in their relationship. They had been dating exclusively since they were about fourteen, pushed towards each other by their respective parents, and when it became clear that backing out was not an option, Robert had gone all in. Love, perhaps, was not really a factor. Maryse was a difficult woman to love. But he had admired her. She was strong, beautiful, determined.

But no one stayed perfect.

She had been an amazing mother once too. Stern, perhaps a little pushy, but she had only ever wanted what was best for her children. She had cried the day that she had first placed a weapon in Alec's hand; the scrawny eight-year old too small for the seraph blade passed down to him, his eyes too wide and innocent for what they would one day see. But they were Nephilim, born soldiers. If Alec didn't learn to fight then he would die, simple as.

Maryse had distanced herself after that, not letting herself get as close to her infant daughter as she had to her first born son if only to make it a little easier later. She still cared, she still loved, but she became a commander first and a mother second.

She turned her children into some of the best Shadowhunters Idris had ever seen. She gave them a fighting chance. But it was a delicate balance to strike, and after a while... after Max... Maryse fell into the role that she felt she had to in order to perform her duty. And there was nothing more important to her than that.

"I am only trying to help Alec," Maryse stated coolly, gesturing for Robert to help her with the zipper on her dress. "He is the weakest, he won't survive in the field with a bow of all weapons. Running the Institute will keep him safe. The Clave would only have ever let him lead if he married and would most definitely not have if they ever found out that he was... broken. I am doing this to protect him from himself."

Robert nodded, understanding the logic. Being gay wasn't exactly unheard of in Idris, but it wasn't accepted either. Nephilim were a military race, and it all came down to numbers: the more of them there were, the more powerful they were. If you couldn't contribute to that, then you lost your worth in the eyes of the Clave. If they ever found out about Alec, he would become little more than a sacrificial pawn to them. It wasn't fair and it wasn't right, but what Maryse had done was truly for the best.

"At least they have time to get to know each other before the deadline," Robert said, more to reassure himself than anything, but the way that Maryse stiffened for a moment made him blink. "You did tell them, didn't you?"

"Alec is smart, he would find some way around it if given enough time. Besides, the experience could be just what he needs to fix him," Maryse answered calmly.

"And if he can't through with it?" Robert asked. "Do you really wish what happened to you upon Lydia? She's just a girl! She has no idea what she's signed up for."

"The Law is hard, but it is the Law."

Robert hated that goddamn phrase. "When do you intend to tell them?"

Maryse didn't answer. She focused instead on carefully folding the dress that she had worn for the wedding and tucking it into the trunk at the foot of the bed. Robert watched her, searching for the woman that he remembered, before her softer side had been hammered into a hardened shield.

"Is this because of her father?" Robert asked carefully as Maryse's shoulders tensed under her nightgown. "What that man did to you-"

"Was for the best," Maryse cut Robert off forcefully. "Without him I would not have Max, and he will be the strongest, fastest and best of them all. He will be coming with us to Idris so that I can focus on his training. I will not allow him to be corrupted by this city like the others. We leave by the end of next week."

Robert blanched. "But that's too soon! We can't train Alec and Lydia that fast."

"They will sink or swim," Maryse stated. "Alec will prove himself worthy of what I have done for him or he will fail. This is his last chance."

Present

"What?" Alec demanded the moment that his office door was closed. Everyone in the Institute may know that he didn't have the greatest relationship with his father, but they still couldn't see him being outright rude to the Inquisitor.

Robert frowned at his son. "Don't take that tone with me. I'm here to help you."

Alec scoffed, "Forgive me if I don't believe you. Your 'help' hasn't ever benefited me before."

A look that could have been guilt flickered across his father's face, which almost made Alec automatically apologise before he bit his tongue. Even after all this time and all the things that his parents had put him through, his first instinct was still to take the blame regardless of the situation. Steeling himself, Alec levelled a glare at Robert instead, daring his father to retort.

Robert opened his mouth, but shut it again with a sigh; studying his son for a moment as if he didn't recognise him. "The girl, is she awake yet?"

"No," Alec lied, burying the urge to glance over his shoulder to where Clary was actually sitting hidden in the war room. He knew exactly what the Clave would order him to do to her if they knew. Even though he had been the one to bring up the Silent Brothers, he didn't particularly want to send Clary to the City of Bones either. He doubted that she would walk away sane – if she walked away at all. "The healers say that she could be out for another few days. The sting was pretty deep and she had never been runed before. It's amazing that she's still alive."

If Robert noticed the lie, he didn't show it. He nodded thoughtfully. "And the werewolf?"

"Hodge and I interviewed him," Alec shrugged – not technically a lie. Before the meeting he had sat down with the two former-Circle Members trying to put as much of the story together as possible. After learning what Luke had done for Clary and Jocelyn over the years, Alec found that he trusted the werewolf. But he also knew that the Clave wouldn't. "He's just a caretaker that Jocelyn paid to keep an eye on the girl. He didn't know anything. Didn't even know who Jocelyn was."

"The Clave will want to speak to him."

Yeah, that could never happen. One look and they would know that Luke was in fact Lucian Graymark – no way would they ever believe that he didn't know anything. There were no names on the reports; a Downworlder's right to anonymity unless directly charged with a crime, but a face-to-face would unravel the web of lies that Alec was weaving to protect them. "He's back with his pack now," Alec replied. "I can send a summons but he doesn't have to answer it. He hasn't broken the Accords, we have no jurisdiction."

Robert scoffed. "He's a Downworlder, he's a suspect," he said with disdain. "They lie, Alec. You know this. Call him in for an interrogation, whatever it takes. Once the girl's awake we'll take them both to the City of Bones. The Silent Brothers will get to the truth."

Alec was risking a lot to keep that from happening, but he nodded his apparent consent anyway. He had bought them time at the very least. He could probably claim that Clary was comatose until the end of the week and hopefully keep Luke out of the Clave's line of fire, but inevitably it would fall apart sooner or later. They needed to find the Cup before then, it was the only bargaining chip that the Clave might accept. The stolen memory lead was all that they had

Alec was betting it all on Magnus Bane.