Anastasia had been traveling for so long she'd lost count. She'd wanted to run straight to New York, to run into that Institute and find her brother. But… what would she say?
Hi. My name is Anastasia something. I don't actually know my true last name. You were raised by Valentine Morgenstern who dumped you like a banana peel when he found out you were useless. I love a boy who is more demon than human. My, our blood is more angelic than normal Shadowhunters. I ran away from Idris, ran away from Valentine… ran away from Jonathan.
These were all things she couldn't say. Because from the talk, Valentine was believed dead. Burnt to death years ago.
It was all just one big, confusing mess, she'd decided. And she wanted no part in it.
Anastasia stood outside the New York Institute now, staring at the door with a longing look upon her face, the mundanes bustling past her glamoured form. Jace his name was now. She'd been spying on him, trailing after him when he went on hunts with a girl named Isabelle Lightwood and her brother Alec Lightwood. Jace went by the name of Wayland here, something else Valentine had done no doubt. It was the Wayland manor that he'd grown up in, Valentine no doubt faking the identity of his 'father' to make it all possible. Urgh. He was more twisted than she first thought. Her head hurt from trying to piece it all together. Maybe Wayland was their true last name? She had no idea anymore. Fuck it all, it hurt too much.
Jace was as reckless as she was, she'd discovered. He had this love of walking right into danger, taking risks. It made Anastasia smirk at the mere thought- they'd get on like a house afire if they could talk.
After that, Anastasia left spying on her brother and returned to Idris a year later, settling into the Glass City at the outskirts, keeping to herself.
The last thing she needed were people, Shadowhunters wondering why a now seventeen year old young woman was living alone. And she wouldn't want to tell. She kept her ears open for news on Valentine and Jonathan, and it all came a year later.
There were stories that Valentine was alive, that he was after the Mortal Instruments. And Anastasia knew it was true, because when the entire Silent City was decimated, she knew it would be him. He had the Sword. But did she step in or tell anyone what she knew? No. She didn't. Never making any friends in fear of Valentine finding her. I'm a coward she thought constantly, wondering why Valentine wasn't hunting her down personally. He knew her, knew that she wasn't stupid.
But it wasn't Valentine who found her.
It was Jonathan.
Anastasia yawned a little as she walked through the cobbled streets of Alicante, feeling more than tired- some cockerel from the neighbourhood had wandered through and woken her up. Bloody thing. She wished she had a gun to shoot the fucking infernal little shit.
Another day in paradise she thought sarcastically as she gazed around her little cottage. The money she'd gotten from the sold heirlooms were sufficient enough to keep her small life going. It was… boring. Which made it so beautiful.
She was free.
There was no Valentine to scare her.
But no Jonathan to love.
Anastasia stepped into the artist store and smiled as she spied her painting of the demon towers of Alicante hanging there on show, her signature at the corner. A recent talent she'd discovered from her solitude. She had other paintings as well, and her sketchbooks. Well her sketchbooks… Anastasia realized as she finished the last page that the entire thing was Jonathan, Jonathan, Jonathan.
But she'd captured him perfectly. He was… beautiful. Even on paper.
She tucked her new paintbrush behind her ear, paid up and left, walking back towards her little cottage in silence, wondering if she was going to spend the rest of her life here in Alicante. Maybe, maybe not.
It was as she rounded the last corner, her place in sight that she realized she was being followed. Anastasia narrowed her eyes and just hurried home, about to unlock the door when a voice, light and amused spoke up behind her.
"Now, I was wandering down the street, about to head to the Penhallows and I clapped eyes upon this pretty little figure walking ahead of me. This girl had the most gorgeous hair I've seen since… well, it was well over a year ago now. She walked like an angel too. Well, that's because she is one."
She knew that voice.
"And I know that because…" his voice trailed off, lips touching the spot under her ear as he whispered, arms creeping around her waist. "That girl happens to be my angel." Anastasia turned in his arms, looking up with her eyes wide, meeting midnight orbs. "Hello my demon." She muttered out, smiling weakly. He'd grown again. By the Angel, he'd shot up maybe another foot. But then Anastasia blinked, cocking her head a little. "What did you do to your hair-?" it was black. As black as his eyes. Jonathan didn't answer her as he leaned down and kissed her softly, taking her face into his hands. He rested his forehead against her own for a moment, the pair utterly silent. It was Anastasia who broke it by saying "Come inside?"
"I don't want to." Jonathan said in an emotionless voice, making Anastasia frown and step back a little. "Why not? I've missed you… so much."
"You left me." He said in such a cold voice that Anastasia was sure something would have frozen over. She groaned, closing her eyes. "I had to."
"You left me a note and ran, Anastasia. You left me! After all that shit about you loving me! Lies, wasn't it?"
Anastasia frowned. "I never lied. I loved you. I still love you. Calm down."
"Calm down?" he muttered, eyes blazing. "Calm down-? Fuck you." Anastasia gasped in pain as he grabbed her by the throat and slammed her against the closed front door, snarling into her face "You said you cared about me! And you left! How the hell could you?! How could you just get up and leave me with him like that."
Anastasia had tears in her eyes as he snapped and snarled. She made no attempt to stop him. He had every right to be angry… Jonathan groaned and rested his forehead against her own once more, letting his hands fall from her face to rest at her hips. "By the Angel, Anny… you need to get out of Alicante."
"Why?"
"Because very soon, the wards will fail… and a demon army invades. I'm not allowing you to stay here and fight. I love you."
"You are not capable of love, Jonathan. Stop lying."
"Maybe I am capable, maybe I'm not. But I want to protect you, keep you safe. If that's not love, I don't know w-" he was silenced as Anastasia clamped a hand over his mouth, muttering out. "Just shut up and get inside. Or leave. Take your pick." She backed off and opened the front door, holding it open for him. Jonathan rolled his eyes and walked inside after her, grumbling out "You've not changed."
"I have Jon." She nodded. "I just want a normal life. To forget the past happened."
"Well, I better get moving then."
"No." Anastasia groaned, grabbing his hands in her own. If she had been anyone else, he would have punched them. But no. This was her. "Don't leave."
"You left me."
"I had to! You'd never understand my love, so I'm not even going to try. My whole life was a lie, made up. I hate him more than you can comprehend. Now hush, tell me about the last year and a half, or however long it's been. I have missed you... So much."
Jonathan paused, but then he stepped forwards and seated himself upon the sofa, nodding at her offer of tea. As she returned with the mug and handed it to him, he told her "You were never mentioned. One of Valentine's rules. He said that my missing you was making me weak… so I forced myself to not think about you." He took a sip. "Didn't work. I thought about you every waking moment for the first three months. After that, you kind of drifted away from my thoughts." He beckoned her over with a finger and she sat down next to him, keeping the distance. Jonathan rolled his eyes and grabbed her arm, tugging her into his own as he carried on. "Father carried on training me."
"I can tell." Anastasia laughed quietly, acting without thought as she sneaked a hand down and pressed her palm flat to his lean stomach. "Oh, sorry." She went to pull her hand away, but his own shot forwards and kept it there, chuckling out quietly. "You my dear can get away with it. But look at you-" Jonathan's midnight eyes trailed her form now. "You've turned out even more beautiful." He glanced down to the low cut dress she was wearing, thinking for a start that he was getting a good eyeful, but no. He was staring at the Morgenstern ring that rested neatly between her cleavage on its chain.
"Ah, I see Valentine taught you how to fake being charming and complimentary." Anastasia commented lightly.
"Tsk, you insult me Angel Girl."
"You love it, Demon Boy." A pause. "So are you going to tell me why your hair is black? It matches your eyes now. Probably your soul as well."
Jonathan leaned back with a little smirk about his lips, raising a hand to smooth her hair back. "I'm actually here doing a little spying. Call me Sebastian at the moment. Oh!" his hand stopped dead. "Your brother is here, by the way."
Anastasia choked on her tea, eyes widening. "Jace is here-?"
"Mmhmm. Shacking up with my sister. I find that exceedingly amusing. Your brother loves my sister."
"Wait. Stop. You have a sister?"
"Yes. A very recent thing. A feisty red-head too." Jonathan told her, sipping at his tea. "Clarissa. Clary. Mother dearest had another child when she ran off."
Anastasia blinked. "Valentine's daughter?"
"That would be her." There was something in his voice that made Anastasia ask. "Spit it out. What's up?"
"The ceiling?"
"Come on Sebastian. No. I'll call you 'Sebby.'"
Jonathan scowled and rolled his eyes. "Don't call me Sebby. And I'm annoyed. Clarissa is nothing like me. I kind of hoped… that she would be. But no. Instead, she's just like you and your bloody brother. A little angel girl."
There was silence, and Anastasia pressed a soft kiss to his lips before saying softly against them "Being unique isn't always a bad thing. As… awful as it sounds, you have me."
"Actually, I find that rather appealing. Even more so if you were naked." He chuckled against her lips, tugging her into his chest. It felt nice, the whole… someone actually wanted to be in his arms. She loved being in his arms. Jonathan sighed, saying in a regretful voice. "I'm afraid I must be off, Anny. Duty calls, and you know what's going on I trust?"
"Your father's after the Mortal Instruments."
"He has the Cup. And the Sword. The Mirror too very soon."
"Is he raising the Angel? I mean… why are you telling me all this? I could go to the Clave and tell them everything. Destroy all his plans."
Jonathan got to his feet, gazing down at her. "Because I know you Anny. And I'm trying to keep you safe. You know, if you know what's going on, you'll know how to avoid it all. Get out of the city, Ana."
"Don't fret your demonic little head about me." Anastasia laughed, running a hand through her hair. "You know I can take care of myself."
"I will knock you out and drag you out of this city myself if I have to. You've been warned."
Anastasia got to her feet and walked forwards until she was stood right before him. "Jonathan, I can take care of myself. If this is your version of love, you're being overprotective. Stop the acting and be yourself."
"I'm not acting." He scowled, raising a hand to flick the tip of her nose. "I just don't want to lose you again. The past year has been so boring without you."
"You are eighteen now Jon. A man. I'm seventeen-"
"Is this going anywhere? I need to go."
"I just-" she was silenced by a quick kiss to her lips, then the front door was slammed shut as he was gone.
Anastasia refused to leave, and as Jonathan promised, he knocked her out and dragged her out the city.
