Disclaimer: I don't own Cassandra Clare's TMI series, Eric Kripke's SPN, or Holly Black's Faerieland series. Recognize any character and I don't own it.

Warnings: Violence, minor to moderate racism. Possible language.

AN: The timeline for this is post-Valient, pre-Ironside for the faerieland series.

Sorry about the lateness. I'm on vacation, so don't be surprised to find more schedule slip-ups.

Word count: 3,517

Enjoy!

Chapter 18: The price of devotion

"Ok, don't speak until spoken to."

"But we're gonna have a conversation...right?"

"You mean as if talking back and forth?"

Yeah. Yeah that's what a conversation means. That's what's gonna happen right...right?"

"Hopefully."

"Hopefully? What do you mean hopefully? You said that-"

The door slammed open. Simon jumped. The werewolf who went in from the door didn't change his expression when Simon whirled to face him. When he turned back to Jordan, the other boy shrugged. Simon fiddled with his tie as two attendants flanked the doors. Their identical black uniforms hugged muscular bodies. Both were tall men and Simon assumed them to be brothers. Even their poker faces were the same.

The Praetor Lupus mansion was far larger than Simon thought, even after Jordan told him what to expect. It was lavish. The white paint was dry and clean. The furniture seemed at once old and new. The wood polished to a gleam. Mahogany. Simon gave a little smile. He peered into a writing desk, his reflection trembling back at him. Gilt framed the edged the boarders of the frame for the large painting above the mantled fireplace. The more Simon stared at it, the more he shuddered.

Riders on horseback raced through the sky, kicking up dust as they raced through a thunderous sky. Their faces contorted into rabid glee. Simon shuddered. The paint for their eyes was think, just enough white for the sclera, thick in some place, then a dark slash to show the iris. He moved to get a closer look, peering up at the rider in the lead. Frowning, his fingers hovered over the paint. It looked warm to the touch.

"Ah the Wild Hunt."

Simon jumped. He backed away and turned back to Jordan. The werewolf nodded his head in the direction of the painting.

"That's what the Praetor showed me the first time I came here."

Jordan elaborated with a wave of his hand. "When I first came here, that picture was the first thing I noticed. I was so scared."

Jordan gave a small laugh, rubbing his arm.

"After a while it didn't bother me so much anymore. I don't know why but the longer I stayed, the more I walked past it, the more it didn't bother me."

Simon turned back to the painting. He stared at the rider in the lead. His face contorted and his arms raised as he charged and came at Simon at a frozen gallop. Teeth bared and flecks of foam at the corners of his lips. Simon's insides quivered. He tilted his head and his ears perked. Someone approached behind the closed doors before they were opened with a uniform smoothness. The two guards stepped back as to not get hit by the oak doors. Another werewolf in black came through the doors. He kept the doors open, corded muscles twitching in effort. The werewolf's face was impassive however and he spoke.

"The Praetor Scott will see you now."

"Thanks Darius." Jordan said.

Jordan tilted his head in the direction of the doors and Simon followed the two werewolves out of the room and down the hall. The corridor was long and wide enough for two men to walk abreast of each other. However, they marched in single file. Or rather, the two men ahead of him paced in time as Simon hurried to catch up. Simon's eyes darted to the portraits lining the walls. The heavy and dark frames that emphasized the stern expressions of the paintings subjects; Simon guessed that most of the men posing were related. Many said men had square jaws or high cheek bones. Either blondes or redheads adorned the walls, their hair thick and combed over and gleaming. Rows upon rows of eyes pierced him and Simon straightened his back.

They stopped at the end of the hall. The corridor branched both on the left and the right, but Darius stopped at another set of thick, intricately carved doors. A design of wolves sitting on their haunches and howling, their muzzles slim and pointed up at a full moon that hung at the top of the door. Darius rapped his knuckles in rapid fire strokes. The muffled response of a voice and then Darius opened the doors. Jordan and Simon hurried inside. As soon as they entered, Darius gave a little bow and shut the door behind them.

Sitting behind an opulent wooden desk, its craved design of moons and ivy thick in the wood was a man. His gray-green eyes stared at them and Simon forced himself to meet the man's gaze. A shock of graying blond hair resting atop a sharply defined head; its features pronounced, with a light slope to the nose. Lines running down and around the eyes and mouth. Thin lips that were a pale pink slash that became even thinner at the site of Jordan and Simon. He leaned back into his chair, arms resting on the desk, and Simon could see the drooping muscles from the limbs through the light fabric of the shirt.

The door opened again and Darius reappeared, carrying a tray laden with meat. A sterling teapot rattled the teacups resting next to it. He set the tray down onto the desk. Darius bowed low to the Praetor and left back the way he came. The Praetor leaned forward and began to serve the tea. His hands were large and callused. Simon blinked at the sight of such hands cradling the delicate silver teapot as tea was poured into tiny cups. The Praetor pushed two cups to Jordan and Simon. Jordan nodded and lifted the cup to his lips. Simon wrapped his fingers around his but did not drink. The Praetor leaned back into his chair once again as he continued to stare at the two of them.

"Tell me something, why is it that Simon Lewis, the fledgling vampire who is now in the thrall of his new clan, needed to speak to me?"

"Thrall?"

He nodded. "What else would you prefer to be called, now that you have joined the ranks of Camille's clan? I have kept abreast of the situation."

"Not abreast enough." Simon blurted out.

The Praetor raised his eyebrows as Jordan sucked in a breath. Simon didn't drop his gaze but he gave a little shrug.

"Then pray tell what is the situation?"

"It's like this. Camille and I both run the clan but we have different ideas on how to do that. Not because we disagree but because what she wants to do will harm humans and downworlders alike."

"I believe that would have been par for the course don't you think?"

Simon saw Jordan gape out of the corner of his eye. Simon scowled.

"Yeah yeah, I know." He sighed. "I know…which is why I'm trying to change that. I want to unite downworld. That's the only way to keep us safe. All of us, not just downworlders but humans too."

The Praetor heaved a gusty sigh. "You certainly aren't the first to entertain such notions and you certainly won't be the last."

Simon tilted his head, frowning. He inhaled sharply, back stiffening as Jordan leaned forward, medallion hovering over the edge of the desk. His teacup clattered onto its saucer, tea splashing onto the desk in little globs. Simon swallowed, forcing himself to allow Jordan's words to reach his ears.

"But sir, if Camille threatens the peace, especially if mundanes are in danger-"

"Which is always the case-"

"Even more so since Idris fell!" Jordan's knees banged against the desk. "We may have had our differences with the shadowhunters, but they were protectors and now without that protection, we-"

"We'll just have to make do." The Praetor cut in. "As we always have. Now is the time to be secular with our communities in order to protect ourselves. Again, unity between the races, particularly ours." He swiveled in his chair, adjusting himself until he leaned forward, palms pressing against the chair's armrest. "People like Camille will never change-as with the nature of us all. There will always be conflict. The sooner you learn that, the easier it will be."

"I see." Simon stood up. "Well I know I just learned something right now."

He turned to leave and he heard Jordan clambering out of his chair behind him. Simon's arms strained as he yanked the doors open and he strode out.

SPNTMI

Night sung. Traffic blaring down the streets as lights shone from the bars, shops, and theaters. Puffs of air swirled around Simon's mouth as he and Jordan walked down the avenue. If Simon had been human, his jacket wouldn't have been enough to cut the chill in the air. Jordan meandered and Simon slowed his pace.

"What now?" Jordan asked. "I know I can't leave this unfinished."

"You sure you won't get in trouble for this."

Jordan gave a huff of not quite laughter. "You know what, let me get in trouble. I'd happily get in trouble with them."

"Well…ok then." Simon cleared his throat. "And…thanks."

"No problem. Now what's next?"

Simon gave a little hum, turning to Jordan. They stood underneath the marquee of a movie theater, flashing red lights dying their skin a vibrant red. A car passed the curb, taillights swerving over Jordan's face. Simon shook, feeling a hot-cold sensation shooting throughout his body. He let out a little breath, tongue too big to fit in his mouth and it took him a few moments to answer.

"What…what if...what if we went to-" Simon said. "I've got an idea."

SPNTMI

"This is your idea?"

Jordan gestured to the graveyard that was only a few yards away from them. Simon's fists clenched inside his pockets. Simon nodded and then turned behind to see that Luis was still there, his back pressed against an old Buick. He leaned back far enough that he wasn't ramrod straight, but his legs bent at an angle so that he could spring forward at a moment's notice. He kept his palms flat on the roof of the car, silver rings on his fingers gleamed even without the sun to give illumination. The piercings in his face bright against his face. Scowl firmly in place, he kept his eyes on the wooded cemetery.

"You're friend is right." Luis said. "Even with a faerie that's somewhat sane, this is still a shitty idea."

Simon gave a little shrug. "Thanks Luis."

Luis made a sharp noise from the back of his throat. "Don't thank me yet."

"Just be here when we get back." Jordan said.

"That's if you get back." Luis replied.

"We will." Simon said.

With a nod and a hoodie covered hand wave, Simon strode off into the cemetery. Jordan loped off after him with a slight growl in his voice. Simon's tennis shoes crunched over frosty grass, crumpled trash, and tumbled stones. The names on the cluttered headstones washed out and faded even to his vampire eyes. The trees seemed to become more varicose and knurled the farther into the woods they became. Simon frowned.

The air hummed, scents catching in his nose and the chill in the rotted vegetation made him gag. His face squinched as his body shuddered at the quick and dirty tug n' pull sensation. Simon's fangs slid out, piercing his lips and he gasped when he tasted droplets of his own blood. Beside him, Jordan growled. Simon turned to see that Jordan's ears had become tufted and his eyes gold.

"...Are we...?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we're in faerieland."

Jordan gave a little cheer and Simon's smile was tugged out of him. A sharp bolt of reeds made them both jump. Simon bared his teeth to the point that his lips were pulled far enough apart for his jaws to ache. Jordan's eyes darted everywhere.

"Smell them?" Simon asked.

"Yeah. Their all around us."

Simon's ears pricked. The foliage was dense but dying. Leaves rustled and fell to the ground. They were colored is sick golds and moldy greens, and rusty reds. Bark gleamed and cracked underneath Simon's fingertips and he shuddered at how soft it was underneath his hands. Out of the corner of his eye, furry caterpillars squirming under the branch. Simon dropped it to the ground.

The music grew louder. Simon tilted his head. The last time he was in faerieland, the music pulled him somewhere, crawling inside his body. Pleasant only when he was outside of himself and wanted to stayed locked out of his body. Now, he could feel the music try to do it to him now, but the sharp tones slamming into his ears, trying to invade. Simon shook his head, mind swimming away from the noise. He nudged Jordan and pointed ahead of them.

"I-I think it's this way."

"Yeah. Ok, yeah. Sounds closer too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah"

Simon's hand shook and Jordan grabbed it, gripping tight. Simon let out a shaky breath as the two trotted down a slight slope, flurries of leaves and brown grass kicked up in their wake. Faeries darted this way and that, the closer the two got to a clearing. Simon gasped, fangs slick as spit flicked out of his cheeks as he dashed forward. Bursts of movement came from the trees and faeire knights surrounded them.

"Think we're here."

"I can see that."

Each knight leveled a weapon as they encircled Simon and Jordan. Their armor gleamed, dark bark against rough skin of various shades. One fae with black eyes and braided hair of vines leveled an axe at Simon. When she spoke, her voice was crunching glass. Her lips peeled back in a snarl, filed teeth pearly, almost like icicles. Simon felt his mouth mirror hers, snarling of his own accord. The fae woman stiffened and a companion to the right of her, a man with feathers for skin and bright blue eyes twirled a rapier made of bark and thorns. The fae woman spoke.

"Have a care where you step strangers."

"We're here to see your king." Simon said.

She sneered. "The king?"

"Yeah. I have something to discuss with him."

"This rabble isn't fit to receive our lord." The fae man said.

"I'll be the judge of that."

The knights froze. Simon and Jordan whirled around. A man emerged from the woods, branches parting in his wake. He was tall and pale, with white hair cascading down to his back. It shone like water, smooth locks rippling with ease. Slate gray eyes staring at Simon and Jordan, never once averting their gaze. A green skinned girl pupil-less black eyes glassy as pools. Her own hair fanned out behind her as her eyes took in the scene before her.

"A vampire and werewolf travel together to find the Unseelie court and King."

"Have we found him?" Simon asked.

"Indeed you have."

The Unseelie King inclined his head. He strode over to a stump, its bulbous roots knotted and sprawled over mud and dead leaves. He brushed off the top of the stump and sat down; his legs open as he leaned down and rested his elbows on his knees.

"Come and sit. Say your peace in comfort. I won't have it said that I am not courteous to my guests."

"Errrr…much obliged."

Simon sat down, hands patting the grass as he slowly bent down and sat. Jordan following suit, he kept his eyes fixed on the Unseelie King and his green skinned companion. He kept his back straight, knees bent and his behind hovering over the ground. The Unseelie King's mouth twitched in what might have been a smile but it didn't stay on his face long enough for Simon to find out.

'Your cohort seems eager to quit the woods. Perhaps you should speak quickly."

Jordan coughed into the back of his hand. "You'll have to forgive me, but I'm not too keen on the fair folk at the moment. No offense."

"None taken. I'm familiar with the sentiment myself."

Simon gave a little nod. "Well, on that note, I'll get right down to it. I'm guessing it's all over downworld now that Idris has fallen and that I'm running the Manhattan clan of vampires with Camille."

"Perhaps. What of it?

"I want to know what you intend to do, knowing all that."

The King's eyes flashed and Simon suppressed a shiver. "If you were privy to such knowledge, I believe I might tell you."

"You're kidding right?" Jordan asked.

"Do I look to be in a gaming mood?"

"I feel that I am privy." Simon cut in. "Privy because I am a leader, same as you and I think it would be in everyone's best interest to work together, seeing as there are no more Shadowhunters around."

"I may not be in a gaming mood, but a generous one. In truth, I did not deal with the Nephilim as much as my counterpart."

"…The Seelie Queen?"

"Correct." The king nodded. "I do understand your position. However, I would need to be convinced of your need. My people are my priority."

"I get that, I do." Simon took a steadying breath. "But…if we worry only about our own people…we're gonna end up in an even more dangerous spot than we are now."

"There are times when that is the only position to take, as unpleasant as it can be. I say this from one king to another."

Simon gave a little laugh. "…Something I've noticed these past couple weeks is…the more you try and protect someone, the more you end up hurting other people. Sometimes…I'm not sure I even wanna be that guy." He gave another little laugh. "Sorry, I'm not making any sense."

"You are. Indeed you are." The king took his time in speaking. "What do you intend to do that requires my assistance?"

Jordan, who had been sagging, now perked up, eyes wide as he looked at the King again. Simon's eyes widened and he spoke a bit louder now with clear eyes.

"To create an alliance with all downworlders of New York City, maybe even extend it to the Tri-State area. To form new accords. The Shadowhunters are gone, but that can't stop us from making peace. A better peace."

"You think we can achieve this peace? I know of Camille's reputation." He eyed Simon. "She isn't aware that you are here…is she?"

"No, she isn't. We've worked out an arrangement. We co-run the clan, but I know that won't last. She…she used me as an attack dog to get rid of her competition. I told her that if she was going to use me, then I would have a say in things, but that isn't going to last for long I know it. I thought if I joined with her…"

"If you had the means to achieve a good goal then you had to use it?" The King stared again, this time his eyes retreating inward until the pixie next to him put a hand on his shoulder and he returned to the conversation. "I understand. I shall assist you in your endeavor."

Simon smiled. "Thanks so much."

"I wonder…why do you long for peace when much your peers do not?"

"I haven't been 'one of my peers' for very long. So I dunno, I guess I still want to keep them safe too. That I don't underestimate people either. We do that and we're all dead."

The King gave a grim nod. "Indeed." He shared a look with the green pixie. "Indeed."

"So what do you propose we do?" Jordan asked. "Not for nothing, but I'm pretty concerned about us."

"I have some conditions as well." Simon said.

"I may have a solution to that, if you are amendable." The king said.

Simon leaned forward on his haunches and the Unseelie King spread open his palms. Their voices pitched low, and the green skinned pixie tilted her head, but stood up. Jordan looked around the small clearing. The knights were still there, but they had lowered and sheathed their weapons. Hands still lingered on the hilts of swords and the handles of axes and knives, but stances had relaxed. Only a few dared to show open interest in the conversation.

Jordan's eyes were drawn to the trees, to the way the trunks shot up to the sky and how black the bark was. How the dying leaves floated down like angel feathers from an overcast sky. The way that odd reed and flute song stabbed at his ears as it round its way round the trees. He kept looking up, some sort of déjà vu keeping his eyes pinned in place as he tried to remember when he felt such foreboding. He saw no birds in the sky and he tore his gaze back down to the scene before him.

SPNTMI

TBC…