IT'S SO CRAZY THAT THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER! Well, you know, as part of the story. There will of course be an epilogue to conclude this whole fanfic, but semantics. ;)
Sorry for the delay! But I am so so so grateful for all of you who have read this far. It means the world to me! Shoutout to the readers worldwide making my writing dreams come true: US, China, Denmark, Italy, Netherlands, Belgium, India, Slovakia, and Georgia!
As usual, quotes from TID and B&TB! This is the longest chapter yet, so get cozy, grab a cup of tea and enjoy. :)
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from TID or Beauty and the Beast, nor their stories.
Tale as Old as Time...
CHAPTER 10: FOUND WITHIN
1885, Goodramgate, England
"Well, well, if it isn't a damsel in distress." The corners of Mortmain's mouth quirked upwards as he nudged Nathaniel, pointing to Tessa from the outskirts of the town. Nate's eyes could hardly believe that it was his younger sister who was preparing her horse to ride off; she looked so grown up in her elegant gown and determined expression. Tessa had always been independent, but the traces of his Tessie were gone.
"Excuse us, sir." Mortmain frowned as two men strode past him and Nate on horseback, looking smug like they knew a secret that would destroy someone. In the pale moonlight, he caught a glimpse of their eyes: one pair a piercing, frigid blue and the other a bleak, stormy gray. Both of their jackets were embellished with a logo of four intertwined C's.
Mortmain watched as the one with the fair hair straightened the lapels of his coat. That's what I do, he thought in frustration. He turned towards Nate, who raised his brow. "Have you seen them before, Nathaniel?"
"They seem vaguely familiar...as if I had seen them when I was a young boy."
Mortmain smirked and jutted out his chin, pulling off his air of superiority too well. He sauntered over to the man whose behavior resembled his. "I can't say that I've had the pleasure of meeting you two men before in Goodramgate."
Blue eyes flickered lazily and locked with his. "That's because we're not from around here."
"Josiah-" whispered the man's less noticeable companion.
"Josiah, is it?" Mortmain inquired. "And," he pointed at the other man.
"Victor," the man replied cautiously, his eyes glaring and inquisitive.
Mortmain's expression morphed into that scheming face that meant he was up to no good. "You see, you just left the home of my very lovely... fiancée."
Nate choked beside him, but Mortmain just grinned and elbowed him in the ribs. "Tessa Gray. And, as any of her business is my business, may I ask what you were doing with my soon-to-be wife?"
The Inquisitor blinked, frowning. "I did not realize that Miss Gray was engaged. Then I believe some congratulations are due."
The Consul interrupted. "There is nothing to worry about your fiancée, sir. We are actually off to London on her orders, to take care of something rather enigmatic."
Mortmain's smile widened. If he could help these two men, looking important as they were, in doing something Tessa had requested of them, maybe he could pave a closer path to her heart. "Oh, I know just what you are talking about."
Nate gulped. "Axel, is this really the time-"
Mortmain shoved Nate once more, then gestured towards the two men. "Lead the way."
-O-o-O-
1885, London, England
"Well, Herondale, I have had my doubts, but everything is moving like clockwork," Gabriel exclaimed, hurrying into Will's room as fast as his metal legs could carry him, Jessamine and Charlotte close on his heels. "True love really does win the day!" He pumped his fist in the air.
Will slowly turned to face his friends. The void look in his eyes was tenebrous, as he shook his head. The pang in his heart had dulled, his previous burning rage replaced with a numbing cold. "I..." he stammered. "I let her go."
Sophie and Gideon ambled into the room, just as Gabriel shouted. "You...WHAT?"
"Will," Jessie's voice was gentle and tentative, but strained with confusion. "But- how could you do that?"
He spun back around, reaching out towards the few remains of the rose. He fingered a fallen petal, edged with black, and cringed as it crumbled to dust in his paw. "I had to."
"But why?" Gabriel demanded, pacing in circles.
"It's not his fault, Gabriel-" Jem tried to intercede.
"Because he loves her," Charlotte said softly.
The ensuing silence was enough to drive Will insane. His heartbeat was thudding so loudly, it was if it was booming in his ears, relentless and quickening.
"Then why are we not human?" Jessie wondered aloud.
"Because she doesn't love him. And now it's too late." Gabriel fumed, throwing his hands up in the air. Will suppressed the urge to punch the ticking Lightwood as he approached the frost-tinted window, hoping for a flash of yellow. There was nothing but snow and endless land.
"But she might still come back?" Jessie asked, twirling around until she perched on Will's shoulder.
"No." Will inhaled a shuddering breath, his heart beating out of his chest. "I'm sorry I couldn't set you free." He gestured behind him towards the attic doors, fearing to look behind him at the family he couldn't save. "Now go. Our time is almost past."
As soon as he heard the faint patter of his friends retreating down the hallway, Will trembled, letting loose as he shattered. He had lived so long in the dark, first because of the demon's curse that had killed his older sister, and now because of the one thing he had tried so long to fight. He had battled demons and terror, but heartbreak was by far the worst.
-O-o-O-
Tessa rode like a shadow through the night, silently and rapidly as the moon sparkled above. Her hair whipped in the wind, and she could feel the pins Sophie had spent time precariously clipping fall loose and fly away, but she was too wrapped up in her own intentions to notice.
Family had always been important to her, more so than anything else. But then, why did her heart feel so heavy, when she had delayed the overtaking of the York Institute? By the Angel, she thought bitterly, the world just isn't fair. Tessa didn't want to have to choose between her grandfather and Will, who may as well have been most important by the frantic beating in her chest.
As Philippe gained speed, Tessa squinted and saw the regal turrets of the London Institute in the distance; she gasped as flashes of red tainted her vision. "Oh, no," she muttered under her breath, "no, no, no."
The incessant clatter of hoof-steps filled the silent night with momentary cacophony, but Tessa wasn't fooled by the eerie lack of noise. Storming the front gates of the London Institute was a group of men raising torches, marching without a sound towards the large wooden doors. She inhaled sharply as she recognized the broad-shouldered silhouette of Mortmain, and the smaller outline of Nate beside him, leading others to attack.
It was the calm before the storm, Tessa knew, as she slipped off of her horse and edged towards them. She suppressed a shiver as she crept closer to the gates, listening for any words among the soft shuffle of boots along cobblestone.
"Can we barge in, already?"
"It's time we kill this beast."
"Traitors, all of them, to the Clave...we won't come out of here without victory!"
Tessa attempted to quell her accelerating heart-rate. From what she could hear, things were not looking good. In all her anger, she closed her eyes and tried to concentrate; she wasn't half warlock for nothing. Pouring all her frustration into a catharsis of emotion, Tessa felt the fluttering in her body, letting the familiar feeling overwhelm her as she transformed. She felt the tingling sensation at her fingertips, and she felt herself go numb as the change undertook her.
When she opened her eyes, Tessa grinned; she was a carbon copy of Mortmain, from the pristine polish of his boots to the tidy band tying his hair out of his face. She adopted his notorious smirk and kept her head down, sprinting through the crowd towards the front doors. She was careful not to collide with anyone too forcefully, and at last made her way to the front of the group. She leaped up four stairs at a time, reaching the top one before the mob could.
"There's no need to rush, everyone," she shouted, wrenching a torch out of the grasp of a nearby man. Angry cries began to quiet as the men looked up towards Tessa, or rather their leader, Mortmain. "There's been a mistake."
"EXCUSE ME, who are you?" An angry voice yelled above the murmurs, and Tessa turned to see Mortmain fumbling his way towards her. She suppressed a giggle as she looked at his expression of evident confusion, and shook her head. "Shadowhunters, grab that man. A fool, to think he could pretend to be me. I am Axel Mortmain, the one and only."
Tessa laced her voice with the common arrogance she recognized as Mortmain's singular trait. I think it worked, she thought to her herself amusedly, as two burly men grabbed his arms and started pushing him towards the back of the crowd.
"What mistake?" One voice called out, and several followed.
Tessa felt the words tumble earnestly out of her, surprising her. "There is no 'beast'. He was a Shadowhunter. Well, he still is." She clasped her hands together and surveyed the silent group in front of her. "His name is William Herondale, and over the past few weeks, all he has ever been is kind and forgiving. He would never hurt anybody."
A hundred relentless gazes rested on her as she straightened her posture and smiled. "So, what do you say? It's late, all of you should be getting a good night's rest." She inhaled deeply. Her work was done; if Mortmain had led them here, 'Mortmain' could surely convince them of the small gravity of the situation. Yet just as she thought she had appeased the crowd, she frowned as she heard gasps, fingers suddenly pointing upwards.
"A beast."
"Despicable! Worse than a Downworlder!"
"How can he be a Herondale?"
"The Branwells have been hiding this from the Clave for ten years?"
Tessa gaped as someone grabbed her wrist forcefully, pushing her aside.
And then, they stormed.
It only took one Shadowhunter to touch the enchanted wood; the doors creaked open, and much to her dismay, the mob proceeded their attack. "WAIT!" Tessa exclaimed, someone knocking the breath out of her as she faced an elbow to the stomach. The persistent onslaught of people grew thick and cacophonous as the crowd heaved the giant doors open completely. "Please, stop! STOP!" Tessa's voice was hoarse and faint as her cries were drowned out by the thumping of marching boots against the marble floor of the foyer.
When Tessa finally managed to make her way inside, she inhaled sharply at the sight. The room was in a melée of chaos; all she could see was the flash of seraph blades as the shadowhunters attacked...objects. Tessa would have laughed at the scene were it not a matter of life or death, watching the coatrack knock the Consul's men out cold and the wardrobe ensnare enemies with its colorful hair ribbons.
"What in Raziel's name did they do to this place?" She heard a nearby shadowhunter grunt as he ducked past her. She watched as he started towards the staircase. Tessa gaped, spurring into action as she wove through the crowd after him. If Will wasn't here, he had to be upstairs.
Tessa cursed her own stupidity as she raced up the staircase, the click of her boot's heels drowned out by the rally of cries and clanks from below. "Hey, Robert," she called out, the shadowhunter's name floating from her- Mortmain's- lips unconsciously. He whirled, eyes widening as he took in Mortmain.
"What do you say, we kill this beast, eh Axel?" He flashed a dark grin, crooked teeth glinting in the dark eeriness of the stairwell. Tessa realized with a start that as they had climbed higher, less torches were lit; there were only two she could visibly see in the hallway, washing the portraits lining the walls in a dim and haunting glow.
Tessa swallowed down a gulp of revulsion as she met Robert's gaze with an icy glare, not caring that he only saw Mortmain's image in her place. "Can anybody be happy if they aren't free?" She whispered, her thoughts whirling with memories of Will. Driven by the force of free-will instinctual in her character, Tessa grabbed the nearest vase in the hall, smashing it mercilessly on the shadowhunter's head. He howled in pain as she leaped back, hands barely stinging with the rush of adrenaline. She sidestepped the fallen shadowhunter's body surrounded by splinters of porcelain, and rushed upwards.
Tessa's heart raced in anxiety, desperation, fear, as she sprinted towards the attic, the weary exhaustion and impact from racing through the freezing temperature catching up with her. She gasped as the returning transformation to her body began to take over; she stumbled as her feet grew smaller, her broad shoulders thinner until she collapsed against the side of the hall right by the door. She heaved and shivered as the whirling pain subsided, and then she was just her, Tessa, again.
The spinning vision of floor and ceiling gradually slowed as Tessa came to her senses. She felt stiff and mildly frustrated that her change hadn't last very long, but she reached for the nearby doorknob and pulled herself up. Her dress was tattered and torn, shreds of yellow ribbon dusted in grime. Tessa rubbed her calloused hands over her bare arms, missing the warmth of Mortmain's thick jacket as she slowly pushed the door open.
-O-o-O-
Will had lain down, asking his friends to leave, even pushing Jem away before he could further witness his despair.
"Will, let me-"
"NO. Jem, there's nothing you can do about this!" Will cried out angrily, squeezing his eyes shut and digging his claws into the carpet beneath him. He trembled, not knowing whether he was on the verge of screaming or sobbing, and turned away from his parabatai.
Jem's voice dropped. "Everyone makes mistakes, Will." When Will didn't respond, Jem inched closer, the warmth of his flames soothing Will despite his reluctance to admit it. He took a deep breath and groaned.
"Yes," said Will. "I just make more of them than most people."
"You-"
"I hurt everyone." Will stammered. "I-everyone whose life I touch." He felt his breathing calm as he tried to block out his anger. "Tessa. Gabriel, Jessie, Charlotte, Henry, Sophie, Gideon...you." He struggled for words, which was very unlike Will, and he turned back to look at Jem, only to find him facing the back of the candelabra.
"Jem, please. I hurt everyone but you. I never meant to hurt you."
Jem waved his hands, lights flickering as he took another step further away. "Will-"
"You can't never forgive me!" Will said in disbelief, hearing the panic tinging his own voice. "I'd be-"
"Alone?" Jem sighed, but he was smiling now, crookedly. "And whose fault is that?"
Will groaned at his best friend's mockery, and reached over to knock him over. It was then that his windows blew open, a loud shattering making him leap up quickly albeit his large size. His shadowhunter and animalistic instincts kicking in, Will reached for the nearest object, which just happened to be a wooden chair, and raised it. In the space of the broken window stood a tall man with a wicked gleam, and from the lack of runes on his thick neck, Will presumed a mundane.
"Will Herondale, now aren't you just a sight for sore eyes?" Mortmain smirked, and then in one quick swivel, he whipped out a gun. "I'm Mortmain. Tessa sent me."
Will tried not to react, and if he were the same 14-year old shadowhunter he was before the curse, he would have snapped back with a rude retort; but he wasn't, and he hated himself for bringing his walls back up again after the members of the London Institute had so carefully and lovingly brought them down.
"Are you in love with her?" Mortmain toyed, readjusting his weapon and cocking the gun.
Will hadn't ever trained with one; when you were a shadowhunter with access to a multiplicity of weapons, practicing with seraph blades and whips of adamas to broad-swords and daggers, you never gave much thought to mundane devices...if only Will had recognized the harm they could provide, maybe he could have been more prepared.
"Did you honestly think she'd want you?" Mortmain raised the gun. And before Will could blink he shot, a sharp pain pelting his upper arm. Will let out a growl as Mortmain cackled and aimed towards the ceiling. He released the trigger.
The explosion reverberated throughout the walls as part of the ceiling crashed overhead, Will crouching in time to duck his head but not to feel shards of glass prick into his skin. Windows and crystals shattered as smoke and debris arose, thousands of glass raining down on him.
Mortmain whirled as he felt a sharp kick to the back of his knees, knocking him to the ground. "Tessa!" He gaped, looking up at her with awe and momentary shock as she glared down at him. From the other end of the room, peeking beneath plaster and heavy planks, Will's eyes widened. Tessa. Her dress was ragged and damp, her brown curls straggled and hanging in a wild curtain around her shoulders. But her gray eyes were full of determination and anger and rage.
"Where is he?" She grabbed Mortmain's wrist, but he twisted out of her grasp easily.
"When we return to the village, you will marry me," he whispered, trailing his fingers along her jawline. At Tessa' growls of protest, Mortmain let loose a morbid laugh. "Did you really think your little 'transformation' stunt would hold me back? You couldn't even prevent my men from storming."
Will's cried out, alerting her of his presence. The rage and fear threatening to overflow within him scared him; he had never felt this about anyone before. He watched as Mortmain locked eyes with him and seethed.
"Oh, Tessa," he murmured, pushing the barrel of his gun into her chest, "that beast's head will hang on our wall."
Will didn't exactly know what happened next. One moment, he was watching Mortmain touch Tessa; the next, he was on his feet, growling and leaping towards the arrogant mundane. He smirked as he glanced over at Tessa, who had knocked the gun out of Mortmain's hands and punched him in the stomach. And then, as if consumed by his own fury, Will lunged forward and grabbed Mortmain by the throat. He thrust him into the open air, outside the shattered window in which he had come through.
Will heard Tessa's breath catch, but he was also heaving too hard to set him down. He felt the crisp gush of wind as Mortmain dangled, stories above the Institute's snow-covered cobblestone ground. Mortmain's voice snapped him out of his daze.
"Don't let me go- please, I'll do anything- just don't hurt me, Beast. Please." Will's heart pounded as he looked down at the mundane, trembling in trepidation, voice hoarse and strangled. I'm not a monster. He thought back to the enchantress, to her harsh words. You have been deceived by your own cold heart, William Herondale. He thought of Jem, and Gabriel and Gideon, and Sophie and Jessie and Charlotte and Henry, their unwavering love warming him until he could no longer bear to hurt them. And Tessa. His Tessa. He just wanted to make her laugh. He wanted to sit and listen to her talk about books until his ears fell off, and watch her squeal in delight at the sight of the library's never-ending shelves, and twirl with her under the stars. But all of these things were things he could not want...but wanting what you could not have led to misery and madness, did it not?
"I am not a beast," Will growled. Taking a step back, he abruptly dropped Mortmain, who sagged to the ground in relief as he tried to catch his breath. "GO. Get out," Will grumbled. "And never return."
He felt a light touch at his arm, and Will whirled, ready to strike; he audibly gasped when his gaze met Tessa's. He felt the weight of what he'd almost just done crush down on him, and he reached out to cup her face in his hands. "You came back," said Will softly, tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear.
Tessa's cheeks pinked, but she held his gaze steadily. "Of course I came back, Will." She bit her lower lip, her big gray eyes full of concern. "I'll never leave you again."
He took a moment to admire the audacity shining in her eyes, gathering his courage. And then, a shot. He could hear Tessa scream as the bullet hit Will in the back, but his head grew faint and foggy when he felt another sharp pain in his shoulder. Will couldn't control himself as his knees came out from under him, and he fell groggily to the ground.
Mortmain chuckled. "You may not have killed me, but you're a still a beast. A fool," he spat, back up on his feet again with his gun in hand. "You should have killed me when you had the chance."
"He doesn't," a voice suddenly resounded behind him, "but we do." With a shout resembling a war cry, Gabriel launched himself at Mortmain, his heavy clockwork body knocking the weapon back out of his hands. Jessamine then swooped in, tickling Mortmain's nose with her dusty feathers until he was left in a fit of coughing and sneezing. "Take that, for being a bigger idiot than Will and Gabriel."
"Hey!" Gabriel protested, but he quickly dropped the insult as Jem leaned down, lighting Mortmain's shoes aflame. And with one last push, Sophie rushed out from between Gideon's arms, who had been trying to protect her, and kicked Mortmain swiftly in the gut. Tessa gaped as he tumbled out from the open window, falling down in a burst of orange flames, his cries of agony ending abruptly as he landed down below.
Tessa turned to marvel at her new friends, giving them a smile of appreciation, but realized too soon that it was not a moment to celebrate. She spun away from the window, just to see Will sprawled out in the shadows in the back of the room, lying motionless. A scream tore from her as she rushed towards him, faintly aware of the rest of them quickly leaving the room with some talk about finding Henry.
"No, no, no," Tessa sobbed. She sank to the floor, positioning herself so she was leaning over Will, tears streaming silently down her cheeks. "This isn't how it's supposed to end. Will. We're together now. It's going to be fine." She watched as her tears dripped silently onto his matted fur, blue eyes growing heavier. Tessa felt the stab of pain in her heart, and grabbed Will's hand to hold in hers. "Mortmain...he's gone. Gone gone."
She thought he could see him smile, but he winced in pain, and shut his eyes. Tessa prayed to the Angels, and wrapped her arms around him. Her mind flashed briefly to the moment she held her dying mother in her arms, and cried out in frustration. "In Jane Eyre...do tell me you've read that, Will?" When he didn't respond, she suppressed another sob and continued murmuring softly. "Well, she-she marries Rochester, and they live together in a blissful marriage." She gasped as Will's breath shuddered. "Jo March...she doesn't end up with Laurie, but that doesn't matter, does it, when she finds Professor Bhaer?"
Will's grip tightened in her hand, and Tessa pressed on, hoping her words were enough to bring him peace. "Stay with me, Will. Please," she breathed and leaned closer to his body, petting his forehead as her mother used to do to soothe him. "My point is, that if my favorite novel heroines can find love, we should be able to have our happy ending too," whispered Tessa frantically. She paused, glancing up to look at the domed rose through her wet lashes. Then she leaned down, and softly pressed her lips to his. "I love you, William Herondale."
She let out a cry as the last petal fell, the rose's stem immediately disintegrating, as if it had never been there at all, and buried her face in his neck, murmuring the words he had mentioned just hours before on a balcony not-so-far away. "I love you, Will, and I have loved you, almost since the moment I met you."
Tessa felt a wave of sadness overcome her, so terrible and numbing that she gasped for breath. If there was no one left in the entire world to care about you, did you really exist at all? She dropped her head to lean against Will's chest, right above his heart, and she wanted to scream when she heard no pulse beating back at her.
"I warned him not to deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within."
Tessa whirled around in shock, only to find a beautiful woman wrapped in a dark cloak. "You-you're the one who cursed Will." She was in too much surprise to recognize her statement of the obvious.
The corners of the woman's mouth lifted upwards. "But was it truly a curse?" She withdrew her hands from under her cloak; they were thin and pale, long and delicate as if they were used to being nimble. "I would like to believe that I was letting fate do its job. It brought you to William, after all."
Tessa frowned, and then narrowed her eyes. "Who are you?" When she turned away, Tessa asked bitterly, "why did you reverse the curse? The last petal already fell."
"Because you deserve to be happy, Theresa. And I might need the favor of a warlock one day." And with a spark, she disappeared, but not before Tessa could see the eruption of gold light she had shot from her hands.
With a burst of brightness, Tessa could see the rose beginning to re-flourish; its vibrant and beautiful red adding color to the dark dust. She squinted, eyes blinded by the light until she felt a hand at her shoulder.
Tessa slowly turned, just to jump in surprise. She was face to face a very human Will, and her jaw dropped at the sight of him. Long gone was the huge beastly form, massive paws and ghastly horns; in his place stood a beautiful young man with tangled black hair and elegant cheekbones, a full mouth and long, thick lashes. He wore a simple white shirt and dark trousers, barefoot, but human feet, she realized with a start.
His eyes were steady and blue; they were everything Will was: true and tender, sharp and witty, loving and kind. "Well, I'm glad to know that the inner depths of her soul aren't pitch black," Will mused. His voice was lovely, just as the rest of him, Tessa thought, as she took a step closer to him. She hadn't quite expected him to come back to life, nor had she even began to imagine that he would like an amalgamation of all the fictitious heroes she had ever conjured in her head. He was just... something else.
"Hmm...and what color do you suppose the inner depths of your soul are, Will Herondale?" Tessa asked, her tone curious and playful.
"Mauve," he replied. Before Tessa could say another word, Will reached forward to tug her closer, placing his hands on her arms, causing her to shiver. She looked up at him with a smile. The smile broke what was left of his resistance-shattered it. He had the walls down when he thought she was gone, and there was no time to build them back up. "Tess," he whispered, and then leaned down to brush his lips across hers.
"Will," she whispered against his mouth. She wanted him closer to her so badly, it was like an ache, a painful hot ache that spread from her stomach to speed her heart and knot her hands in his hair and set her skin burning. "Will, you need not be so careful. I will not break."
He reached out his hands and brushed the curls of her hair lightly and winked. "I know. You're my angel, my feisty little Tessa." Then he crashed his lips to hers, and she felt herself caught in the eddy of a powerful wave that threatened to to pull her over and under, to crush her and break her, to wear her down to to softness as the sea might might wear down a piece of glass. She held on to him, knowing that she would never let him go. Reluctantly stepping back from Tessa, Will grinned, his smile lighting up his whole face. "Now let's go find the others. I cannot wait to rub it in Gabriel's face that even after all these years, I'm still more handsome than him."
Woohoo, the main story is finished! Happy ending for all...what else are fairytales for? ;)
Stay tuned for one last epilogue! You'll love it, I promise!
xoxo