Another update! and happy new year to everyone!
I hope you enjoy this chater and i don't own the mortal instruments or any references to the infernal devices. all rights go to Cassandra Clare the wonderful woman!
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it will make me a very bunny on this lovely news year ;)
The morning light filtered through the gap in the curtains, showering just a bit of the dark room in the luminous glow of the newly breaking day. Tiny dust particles filtered through it, highlighted by it luminous beauty and the golden aura that erupted through the small gap.
She smiled when the light hit her sleeping face, warming the pale skin there. She opened her eyes, revealing the crystalline blue orbs that shimmered and shined in the yellow light. Rosie was never a morning person, it was one of the many things on her list of things she hates. The morning was something people dreaded, even if they wouldn't admit it. There was always something terrifying about the beginning of a new day and the horrors that it potentiality carried. Rosie wasn't an exception to this, sure she wasn't scared of the unknown and that fear had left her a long time ago, but she knew her place. She was a night-bird, a shadow in the dark, and she always would be.
Classy. She thought as she looked won to see herself wearing nothing but her underwear, her only clothes having been discarded thanks to them being soaked. They now lay strewn across the room in various places, just tossed there with no care. The only thing that she had taken any particular care with was her weapons belt which now sat on the back of the chair to her right.
She scanned the room, taking in every detail from the peeling wallpaper, to the spiders cradled in a web in the dark corner above her wardrobe. After a quick inspection she noticed nothing had been moved; the room remained untouched. 21 years had passed, and not a bit of cleaning had been done in her room, but all the other dormitory rooms were spotless. She tutted to herself under her breath while she shook her head. 21 years and the room hasn't been touched, she thought with a discontented sigh. She suspected Maryse was the source of the lack of attention, and did a quick search around the place, looking for anything more to hold against her.
The wardrobe still sat in its place opposite the bed and next to the bathroom door, both of which were made of dark wood and engraved with vines and thorns. Rose thorns. To her left was a vanity table bare of anything other than a blanket of dust, also made of dark wood, and the mirror showing no coherent image when she looked at it; the dust that had accumulated over the years was thick. One her left was the window, the grand window that looked out over the large patch of lush green grass that sat outside the sanctuary. The view was currently hidden by the floor length grey curtains that hung from the bronze bar, but she remembered the scenery from all the years before.
Having lived in this very room for 14 years, Rosie knew that behind the curtain was a window seat, like every other room in the Institute had. The cushioned material was once a deep purple velvet with grey pillows on either end. On each side of the window seat on the wall was a dark wooden built-in bookshelf, both bursting with books of all audiences and genres. They were stacked neatly at first, all side by side until the population grew too much. Now she could see how some were crammed in horizontally and diagonally, anyway to make them fit.
Three of the four walls were a dark grey, similar to the curtains but with a floral black pattern of roses and thorns. The wall behind her bed, however, is plain white was and covered by tattered bits of paper that now looked more like parchment. Each one was covered in ink drawings and surrounded by little notes, poems, song lyrics, and some even had letters of apology that were never sent.
She climbed off the bed, dragging the white covers onto the floor after her. She looked down at the mess and smiled. The butterflies that were on the covers had merged together, making sinister monstrosities as opposed to them originally being beautiful, delicate, and quaint. The quilt was the only coloured thing that seemed to be in the room. Each of the butterflies wings were delicately painted with an explosion of pink, blue, and purple all merging together like ink in water, while others were left blank.
That's how she saw the world, though. Some people are simple, black and white and pointless; easy to read. Then there are others who are an explosion of colour, a complex mix of emotions all thrown together to make them incoherent and hard to navigate. Like Isabelle and like Alec. Like Jace, she added solemnly before shaking the thoughts from her head. Not today.
She walked to the bathroom door, her fingertips gently brushing all the spines of her books on the way, coating the pale skin in a layer of grey fluffy dust. Upon entering the bathroom, she was struck by how clean it was. All the porcelain shimmered like polished pearls, the metal of the shower sparkled and winked every time she moved. There wasn't a speck of dust to be seen.
With a quick smile, she jumped in the shower and turned the water on, letting her body be attacked by a freezing wave before being calmed and warmed by the heat as it raised in temperature. A punishing ritual of hers. If you want something good then you need someone bad to counteract it. It's all about the balance. She let the water run down her face, sticking her hair to her back and waist. She winced when the water hit the rest of her body though, the hot water penetrating into every gap of her delicate skin. She cursed under her breath before reminding herself so sort that out later.
She stayed in the water for a while longer after she'd finished washing, waiting for the water to become a caress to her skin rather than the ambush that it was now, but she waited in vain. She finally gave up the wait when she saw the water turning a deep red.
Emerging a few minutes later wrapped in a fluffy white towel, Rosie was greeted by someone sitting on her bed. This someone had golden blonde hair. She looked him up and down, him having not noticed she had entered the room since his nose was currently buried in a leather-bound book, each parchment-looking page covered with a cursive ink script, the same that droned the papers on her back wall.
Ash was wearing black jeans and a grey top, his hair a mess of golden curls. His eyes scanned the pages with a certain grace, his fingers turning the pages with pristine care, as if he was afraid they'd burst into flames at the slightest touch. He was lost in this new world, Rosie's world.
"Ahem," she said, crossing her arms over her chest and suppressing a smile as Ash jumped from the bed, dropping the book on the floor and then checking it for damage. His face was a mask of concern and panic as he picked the now closed book off of the floor like he'd just dropped a snow globe or an antique.
"Oh, Rosie! Hi. Sorry I was just, urm, sorry, I'll go," he stammered in a rush of breath, looking in every direction but her face.
"Pray tell, Ashley, why might you be in my room?" Rosie asked looking over the boy's face which was now flushed with a dainty pink colour.
"Mum told me to bring you some clothes," He mumbled under his breath, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "She said your old ones were gone," Rosie nodded, remembering how she had arrived in her old room last night wanting nothing more than to climb inter her night-clothes (she hadn't grown since she'd left), only to find the wardrobe as bare as a stripper's chest.
Rosie didn't reply to that, just walked over to the pile of clothes on the bed and began to rummage through them, smiling slightly at the change in Isabelle's wardrobe over the last 21 years. Something about Ash's discomfort amused her and she wasn't sure why, something about the way his cheeks were tinged pink, or how he scuffed his feet and rubbed the back of his neck. Something about being in a room with her had disheartened him and she had it in her right mind to make it worse for him still.
With a sly smile the devil would be envious of, she grabbed some of the clothes at random before waking over to her vanity table. She dropped the pile on the surface creating a mushroom cloud of grey dust. Turning around, she saw Ash looking at her in a timid way, like he was asking permission. She smiled sweetly at him then dropped the towel to the floor, letting it pool around her feet in a tumble of white.
Ashley's face changed drastically. His eyes bulged and his jaw dropped and he slapped a hand over his eyes, his face turning redder than before. Success, she thought to herself.
"Oh. Urm. Okay," He sputtered, desperate to break the silence.
"What's the matter Ashley?" Rosie asked, feigning ignorance. He moved his hand but began looking ever where else in the room than where she was standing without her clothes. He sputtered again but the words were impossible to understand, and she agreed with herself to relieve him of this torture. She grabbed the clothes and threw them on, thankful that her and Izzy were at least the same size in some places.
She then stood wearing a pair of black skinny jeans that she turned up slightly at the bottom since Izzy's legs were still longer than hers, and a long-sleeved grey shirt that was slightly too big for her and hung lightly off one shoulder revealing her black bra strap and a line of black ink on her shoulder-blade. Thank the angel for long hair, she praised as she re-wrapped the murky white bandage around her wrist, wincing as the material scraped the skin. She silently thanked that Ash didn't look at her for too long and only saw the front of her.
"I'm decent" she said lightly, Ash's face was no longer red, but it was clear that he still felt awkward around Rosie. His eyes looked at her face and only her face. She smiled at him, a sweet smile, so unlike anything she'd ever done before. "Anything else you wanted?" she was almost embarrassed at the light and friendly tone her voice had chosen to take. Rosie was not very friendly, and she sure as hell wasn't light, she was the black angel and it's about time that everyone knew that.
"Oh. Yeah. Uncle Alec's here now and so is everyone else. They're waiting for you in the sanctuary," he replied, his face back to normal in a flash, so much like his father could do, but his cocky mask was somehow half-hearted, like it was lacking in arrogance. It was then that Rosie noticed how awkward and nervous Ash had been around her.
Jace had never been like that, had he seen her with no clothes on, he would look her up and down, make a snide remark and leave like he'd just seen her in normal clothing. Nothing out of the ordinary and nothing special. Not Ashley though, he looked embarrassed. Guess you're not 100% you fathers son, she thought with a smirk to herself.
"That'll be for the vampires benefit, I'm assuming," she said nonchalantly.
"Yeah, Uncle Si- wait. How did you know there was a vampire living here?" Ash was alert suddenly, like a dog who'd just caught the scent of something that was not quite right. It amused her slightly, but not as much as his embarrassment, but a bit.
"Well then," she said ignoring his question and casting a quick sideways glance to her bed, the journal was closed, the leather band that bound it shut lying open. She had a sudden panic inside that maybe Ash had read a little too much for her liking, more than he should have done. He hadn't questioned anything, though, and that was a good enough sign to calm her frayed nerves. "Let's face the music," she said and gestured to the door. She cast a look at the book again, still praying he only read the trivial entries about her day and not the more in-depth stuff, so to speak.
"Some secrets need to stay hidden," she whispered with one last look before pulling the door shut and following after Ash down the halls to the sanctuary. One thought on her mind kept swirling around like wine in a glass, but all is revealed in the end.
"Jace is this one of your sick jokes?" the raven haired boy asked. Everyone was in the Sanctuary with the exception of Magnus who was coming later with Blue and Ash, who had disappeared after speaking to Jace.
Alec had gotten the call from Jace late last night, much to Magnus's complaints, telling him to come to the Institute the next morning, so he had. Upon arrival, he had been ripped into a vice-grip hug from 'Planet Eater'-as Blue had taken to calling Isabelle now she was that pregnant- who had then dragged him to the Sanctuary just to drop the bomb.
Rosie. Of all the people to come back from the dead, it had to be her didn't it? Alec wasn't ungrateful, he'd lost enough people in his time to know how much you can wish and wish for their return, but he never thought it would be her. If anyone was to come back from beyond the grave, he'd want it to be Max.
"Why do people keep saying that?" Jace said incredulously. He was sitting against the fountain with a very tired Clary leaning against his shoulder, her eyes drooping, and her hair a wild red mane as always. Little Gloria sleeping soundly on her lap. It was no secret that Alec and Clary hadn't exactly got along brilliantly when they met, or very much after that, but she had saved Jace's life more often than not, and she had saved Isabelle as well as him; you couldn't hate someone who kept saving all the people you loved.
"Well you've had your moments," Simon said, still looking 16 with his arms around Izzy's waist resting on his next unborn child, Rebecca. He sat on the end of the bed him and Isabelle shared, and Sebastian was leaning against the nearest wall.
Sadie and Max were against the far wall by the door, both looking out onto the grass that was speckled with crystal drops of dew, or the remnants of last night's storm. Max was in a button down shirt and jeans, his dark hair spiked up like Magus's. Sadie had hers falling down to below her shoulder blades, she must have cut it last night. Sadie always did have a talent for fashion and all that other girly stuff, Magnus and Izzy had of course been great supporters of that, so she probably had no trouble cutting her own hair.
"Zip it Bloodsucker," Jace said half-heartedly as he pointed a finger at Simon gaining him a glare from Izzy. A glare like that from normal Izzy was a threat but one from pregnancy was like an execution notice.
Alec smiled because despite the situation, Jace was still being Jace, even if he wasn't one hundred percent into it. He heard the Sanctuary door open and turned eagerly, expecting to see Magnus walk through in all his glittered glory with little Blue on the end of his hand. Instead he was greeted by a very timid looking Ashley and a girl who looked about 18 trailing behind him with her usual arrogant posture.
Ash went to stand with Sebastian and he obviously didn't want to stand with the girl for too long. He left her in the doorway, the morning sunlight bathing her skin. There was a collective intake of breath throughout the room, one of which came from his own mouth. The other came from Isabelle. Clearly, she had only heard the rumor, and had not seen the proof.
"Hello," she said, her voice the same as it had been throughout his entire childhood, like a whispering caress on his mind. How could Jace be mad at her when she was like a second mother to Alec when he was a child. She was the first to know of his sexuality, and his crush on Jace. Anyone who didn't like her was crazy.
She hadn't aged a day, her long red hair was falling to her hip, not straight yet not curly at the same time; sort of wavy. It was now clear that it wasn't all bright red, nearer the bottom the hair slipped into a deep orange, slowly brightening as it got to the ends. Her hair looked like a flame; a beautiful flame.
Her pale face looked the same, no color, but it added to her radiance, to her angelic beauty; it's no wonder Izzy called her an angel. Her eyes were shinning, but Alec couldn't tell why because her face was the perfect mask, the same mask Jace had learned to use. There was nothing bad about this girl. She was an angel, a beautiful angel and Alec could hardly believe she was here, looking at him even when her gaze was elsewhere, staring right through him.
He heard a sound, sort of like a whimper come from behind him but he couldn't look away, too long she'd been dead to him, he was scared that if he looked away she would disappear. Suddenly, someone else entered the picture. Someone who had thrown their arms around the girl's neck and hugged her, someone with ink black hair in a ponytail.
Alec wasted no time. He ran across the room and threw his arms around them both. His girls, his sisters. He listened to Isabelle's soft sobbing and the sound of Rosie's laugh, her beautifully melodic laugh was like music to his ears. It was like he'd been deaf for the last 21 years and suddenly his hearing had returned. Such bliss and beauty in one simple sound. A voice spoke behind the group and they pulled apart, but neither Lightwoods, former or not, would move away from the once dead girl. Isabelle stayed on her right, Alec on the left as they looked for the owner of the voice to see Jace standing before them in an unreadable look.
"Sorry to break up the reunion," he said snidely. "But, I believe we were here to get answers."
"It's not a reunion," Rosie said in her all-knowing voice. "Not yet," she was looking at Jace now and it was clear from his pent-up fists that she was getting to him.
"I'm not coming over there," he said, directing the words towards the trio. "You can count me out," he made a wiping gesture looking strangely like an old dance move.
Rosie spoke under her breath, "that's not what I meant." It seems Alec was the only one who heard, because Jace still looked indifferent and Isabelle was still sniffling softly. Before he could ask what she meant, she had continued. "But you came for answers and I'm willing to give them," she held her hands up in mock surrender. Jace seemed to relax slightly at that because his hands returned to normal and he took a deep breath before returning Rosie's look, his face still masked. She looked around the room from face to face, examining them all, taking in every inch of them now that she had their attention; even Sadie's . "What do you want to know?" she spoke again
"What are you?" Jace said without hesitation. Every eye turned to him like he was crazy and he met every look. "What? Look at her. She's exactly the same as she was the day I met her and the day she left. That was 21 years ago. You can't be 18 forever unless-"
"You're not human," it was Simon who answered this time but every eye went straight back to Rosie, and everything he'd said had finally sunk in for Alec. She was the same as he'd ever seen her, young and beautiful.
"I'm the same as Tessa Grey," she said quietly, like she realized that speaking it out loud made it true. "I can wear the runes of the angel and fight demons, but I can also do the magic of a warlock, and I don't age," her confidence seemed to grow slightly at this point. She stated the information as a fact, like there would be no arguing with it.
"Do you shape-shift?" this time is was Izzy who spoke, though unlike Jace, her voice was soft and caring like she was worried for Rosie, whereas Jace still sounded angry.
"No I can't," She said returning Isabelle's gentleness. "My father was not an Eidolon demon, so I did not inherit that ability. Instead, I received the magic of the average warlock, as well as the ability to wear runes and fight demons," she sounded half-robotic. Even with the emotion in her voice, it was like she was reciting from a textbook, or like she'd used a pamphlet like Simon was going to when he 'came out'.
"How old are you?" This question came from Clary who remained seated by the fountain, looking more awake and suddenly curious, her emerald eyes glistening with unasked questions.
"I don't know-" Rosie began but was cut off by Sadie and her rude remarks.
"How can you not know?" she asked incredulously, so much like Jace.
"If you'd let me finish Sadie Theresa Herondale, I would tell you," she said looking a Sadie who seemed to shrink back slightly. This was strange, Sadie rarely backed down to people; she was a mix of two incredibly stubborn people. Alec wondered how Rosie knew Sadie's first name, let alone her second, but now wasn't the time to ask. "As I was saying: I stopped counting when I reached my 500th birthday, but at a rough estimate I'm nearly 900 years old."
"That's older than Magnus," Alec said more to himself than to Rosie, but she smiled warmly at him anyway. The smile brought back a flood of childhood memories spent with Rosie.
"Why did you leave?" It was Jace now, his voice was a lot calmer but the fury was still simmering beneath the surface. Anyone who knew Jace knew when he was suppressing an outburst, and by the calm and collective look on Rosie's face when she answered him, she knew too.
"Maryse," was all she said and at first, and all eyes turned to her, some disbelieving, some curious and others that looked at her like she'd just grown a second head. Isabelle was one of the latter. "She found out what I was, and threatened to call the Clave about me. To tell them what and who I was," she took a deep breath like the memories were hard for her to bare, but Alec thought that if you'd been threatened by the Clave, it's normal to be a little afraid. Even if you were a 900 year old Warlock-Shadowhunter hybrid. "She said she didn't want filth like me near her children," Rosie's voice had taken a dark turn, her words were sharper, more to the point and acidic. "It was either leave without any of you knowing, just disappear into thin air, or give myself to the Clave and let you all be punished for harbouring a fugitive."
"A fugitive?" Alec had finally found his voice and Rosie turned her eyes onto him, watching as the bright blue orbs softened and seemed to turn sad from the sound of his voice.
"Yes Alexander," she said softly and Alec found the way she said his name strange, almost familiar in a way. "I was protecting you all. I'm wanted by the Clave for crimes I couldn't help but commit" she sounded sad now, like she didn't want the conversation to have taken this particular turn.
"What crimes?" It was Jace speaking up again. His anger had fallen slightly, and he spoke with a new tone, like false curiosity or maybe even pity, or possibly concern. Rosie noticed too because her eyes shot from Alec's, breaking the eye contact and connecting with Jace's.
"I was born," was all Rosie said because at that moment, the door to the sanctuary burst open behind Alec. Little Blue came crashing in, bouncing around like the small child she was, and running straight for Gloria who had scrambled from Clary's lap at the sight of the eccentric little girl. Rosie's eyes followed her all the way, sometimes switching between the girl and Alec, making the connection, and smiling sweetly at him. Her eyes suddenly looked older, more maternal, and wise.
Following shortly came Magnus in all of his glittery glory. He wore black leather trousers and a dark blue, almost see through shirt that seemed to sparkle like fireworks. He had rings on all his fingers and a wedding band hung on a chain around his neck. Alec had smiled when Magnus had told him the reasoning. He had said, "I wear many rings Alexander, I'm not seen without them, but you will never catch me wearing a necklace, and therefore the ring shall be a mix of both. The ring as a ring, and a chain to make it a necklace. This is a testimony of my love, Alexander, for you are the only person I would wear a necklace for."
Magnus froze in the doorway, and his yellow cat eyes stared intently at Rosie like she was the angel himself.
"Hello, Magnus," she said softly, looking him directly in the eyes.
"You know him, Rosie?" Isabelle questioned, her gaze jumping from one warlock to the next. Well, that is if Rosie could be classed as a warlock.
"Rosie?" is was Magnus who spoke, humour evident in his voice. "That's what you go by now, is it? Last I checked, you were Scarlet or Scar for short," he gave her a look you'd often see a parent giving a child when they were being patronizing, and Magnus was definitely being patronizing.
"Well, no harm in mixing it up now and then is there, right Maggie?" They spoke with such comfort, like two people who've known each other for their whole lives. Then again, as two immortals, they were bound to cross paths at one point or another.
"I'm sorry, so your name's not Rosie?" Jace said, sounding betrayed again and a little bit incredulous to the situation.
"No," Rosie- or not Rosie- said gently. "It's not Rosalyn either."
"What is it then?" Isabelle asked, but before Rosie could reply, Magnus spoke again.
"Her name is Tora," he said with his all-knowing voice. He was suddenly standing next to Alec in the silent sanctuary, apart from the faint giggles of the two little girls playing outside on the grass. All eyes turned to Magnus in shock, except the sparkling blue eyed girl who seemed amused.
"And how would you know this Magnus?" Jace said sarcastically.
The answer seemed obvious to Alec. Two warlocks over 500 years old are likely to have met eventually. He opened his mouth to speak at the same time as Magnus, but they were both cut off by Rosie- or Tora.
Everyone froze and the entire room seemed to gawk at the two warlocks, both of which were smiling slightly. Tora with a stance of pride arrogance and Magnus with minimal amusement. The words she had just spoke bounced around Alec's mind, replaying and repeating over and over, like a loop. Her voice had been so certain, but now Alec knew why she had been strange saying his name, why it had sounded so familiar rolling off of her tongue. Jace looked as shocked as everyone else at this point. All she had to say was:
"Because he's my brother."
CLIFF HANGER! oh I do love those ;)
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