So Human

"They're here! Simon, Simon, they're back!"

Isabelle heard Max's voice bouncing off the walls of Magnus's house and she sighed, rolling her eyes. Anything for a good story, Max?

"Simon!" Max cried, skidding to a halt before Isabelle, Alec, and Magnus. "Simon, come on, they won't tell us anything unless you're here too."

Alec reached down and scooped Max up. "We're not telling you anything anyway, Max, not until Jocelyn and Luke are here."

"But, what about the Clave and the Cup and becoming shadowhunters?" Max whined, his eyes getting round. "You do get to be shadowhunters, don't you?"

"All in good time, Max," Alec said as Simon came into view.

Simon's eyes glanced to Isabelle, searching. "It went well?"

"Well enough," she said conspicuously, well aware that Max was listening to her closely. "But, I'm famished, can we eat something?"

"I'll start something," Simon said, and they headed into the kitchen. Simon threw cold soup into a pot and stated a fire. "So, what was it like standing in that room with a bunch of shadowhunters?"

Isabelle met Alec's eyes and she saw the way Max was looking at her, eyes glowing and desperate. "Well, first, there were these huge doors, and they must have been twenty feet tall at least, with demons and angles carved all over them."

Max leaned closer. "Demons?"

"Yes," said Isabelle with big eyes. "Horrid beasts with horns and fangs and claws, and they were snarling and snapping, and that alone was enough to make me lose heart, but I had to think of Jace and Clary. But still, I didn't know if I could bring myself to pass those doors, but that's when Alec arrived."

Alec winked. "I was very brave of heart."

"With Alec at my side, I was fearless," continued Isabelle to Max how was now watching her like she were the only person in the room. "I thought to myself, 'we're Lightwoods, and Lightwoods are afraid of nothing; we served in Valentine's castle, and we crossed a country full of demons, and we met the Demon King himself and lived to tell the tale'. So, there we were, Alec and I, waiting to meet the Clave and then the doors creaked opened-"

"What happened?" Max pressed, looking between Alec and Isabelle. "What did you do next?"

"Picked up my skirts and ran," Isabelle said sarcastically. "Well, of course we went in, Max, and don't interrupt, you know better than that. So, the doors opened and all we could see was the blackness and shadows and we could hear nothing but the sound of our own hearts beating. It was like looking into a void in space.

"In we went, and we saw this enormous chamber, bigger than the Great Hall at the castle in Idris, bigger than anything you could imagine, with stone floors and walls and green lights all around, and when I tried to peer into the darkness, I saw hundreds of pale white faces. At first, I didn't think they could be people because they were so pale, but the closer I got, the more I could make out features, and then, I heard a voice-"

"Which is really where this conversation should end," said Jocelyn sharply, entering the kitchen with Luke at her side. "I'm sure Max is curious to know the inner workings of the Clave, but it's not something for children to hear."

"Max deserves to know what's happening," Isabelle said defensively, but she knew arguing with Jocelyn was pointless.

"Some things aren't meant for the ears of children," Jocelyn replied frostily.

"Well, it's not like he's not going to find out eventually," reasoned Alec. "Since we're going to be training now and much more involved in the war-"

"You get to drink from the Cup?" Max exploded. "You get to be shadowhunters?"

"Yes, Max," said Isabelle a faint smile. "Alec and I are going to train and then we're going to go back to Idris and save Clary and Jace."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Luke said softly. "The Clave isn't going to necessarily let you just march in the palace because you happen to have an emotional stake in the battle. You're both a bit young, and you'll be very undertrained."

"I went before," Isabelle said smartly. "So, what's going to stop me from marching off later if I feel like it? I'm telling you now, Jocelyn, no old man with more years than wrinkles is going to tell me I can't help my friends."

"He most certainly can if you're a shadowhunter, Isabelle," Luke replied, and his face was grave. "You've thrown yourself headfirst off the edge of an abyss, and you didn't bother looking to see if there was a ledge. The Clave is an army, Isabelle, and an army has rules and regulations."

"I'll obey their rules as long as they don't-"

"You'll obey their rules no matter what," Jocelyn snapped. "When you drink from the Cup, you swear an oath to the Clave, and in that oath, you swear your loyalty and obedience to their laws. You are bound by it."

Isabelle's cheeks flushed but Alec spoke before his sister yelled. "Well, what happens if we break our oaths?"

"You can be punished," Luke said. "Severely."

When Alec and Isabelle just looked confused, Jocelyn continued. "They can imprison you indefinitely, banish you, kill you, or even strip away your runes, and among the Clave, there is nothing worse than to have your runes removed. It is to live a life of shame and loneliness."

"Well, what about Jace and Clary?" Alec asked. "Didn't they disobey the Clave by going to Idris?"

"Yes," answered Jocelyn, dropping her eyes. "Yes, they did, and when this is all over, the Clave may choose to punish them. I hope they do not, but they have the power to do just that."

"How can you let them?" Isabelle gasped.

"It's the law, and we abide by the law," she said softly. "You must abide by the law, too, if you want to help Clary and Jace at all. Remember that before you drink from the Cup."

Alec placed a hand on Isabelle's shoulder, stopping her from saying anything else; it seemed like both Jocelyn and Luke were set on the point too. Magnus, who had remained mostly quiet, through the small argument spoke then, hoping to keep Isabelle's temper from flaring up again.

"Regardless, I think we can count this meeting quite a success, don't you think? The Clave is going to go through with the Ascension, and is beginning a new campaign to sign on more humans willing to convert."

"They didn't have a choice," Luke said gruffly. "Jonathan's army nearly did us in there; it was only quick work from your folk, Magnus, that saw us through to the day."

"Was it that bad?" Alec asked.

"It was an army of demons," said Jocelyn as if this should be obvious. "Demons have never banded together to fight as one force in history; we weren't prepared for it. Our fighting style isn't conducive to battle field charges."

"Suppose that'll change?" Simon asked, stirring the soup one more time before reaching for bowls. "I mean, the Clave isn't going to stick with it?"

"Not necessarily," Luke sighed. "They're hoping this army was the bulk of Jonathan's force and that he's mostly defenseless. They're wondering if maybe in the next month or so they can march into Idris and lay siege to the castle."

"It won't work," Isabelle said at once. "You told them that, didn't you? If Jonathan is summoning these demons with the sword, and if they are obeying him because he's part demon, more will come."

"We're doing everything we can to stop the Clave marching off to their death," was all Jocelyn would say. "Simon, can I have some of that? I haven't eaten all day."

Simon ladled out runny soup and passed bowls around, they ate quickly in contemplative silence. "Does the Clave think Clary and Jace are going to stop him?" Simon asked, breaking the silence.

Jocelyn turned her face away, and Luke gave her arm a gentle squeeze. "As far the Clave is concerned, Clary and Jace have forsaken their lives for the cause. You heard them at the meeting today, it sounded like Aldertree was giving a eulogy. No, I do not think the Clave is putting any stock by them."

"I am," said Simon. "I know Clary, and I know there's nothing she wouldn't do, nothing she isn't capable of, and…I suppose Jace is quite able himself."

"It's something to consider," Luke agreed. "For now, though, we're going to have to operate under the idea that Clary and Jace are alive, but Jonathan's prisoners, and that we're fighting this war alone."

We're not alone, Isabelle thought. Clary and Jace are there now, trying to find a way to stop Jonathan. "I'm for bed," she announced loudly, her eyes glancing off Simon. "If anyone needs me, I'll be in my room. Max, come on, I'll read you something."

They all said their goodnights and she left them to their conversation and their talk of war. Alec, who was not quite so new to the subject, again found himself wondering what his life was going to be like once he'd become a shadowhunter. Was this all his life would be? Was he going to spend the rest of his time in war councils, discussing battle plans and tactics? He's sworn to himself before that all he wanted was to return to the fields and meadows of his homeland and take his family with him, but how could he abandon Clary and Jace?

How can you abandon Magnus? Alec's eyes traveled to Magnus, who was speaking with Luke about demons' methods of fighting. He seemed so full of energy, so full of life, and Alec knew that Magnus would never turn away from his life and settle on some farm. You want to leave all this behind, but you know you can't. You know you won't leave him.

Alec sighed and stood, looking around the room. "I think I'm going to go as well." Magnus's eyes sparkled and Simon stood as well.

"I might come up with you, just to check in on Isabelle," he said nonchalantly.

Alec raised an eyebrow but then shrugged it off. "Yeah, alright."

"In the morning then, Alec," said Luke. "Jocelyn and I need to speak to you two about the ceremony you go through to become shadowhunters."

"Right," Alec muttered.

Simon and Alec trudged up the stairs in silence and paused on the landing. Simon gave Alec a long look. "So, you're both going to be shadowhunters?"

"It seems that way," Alec said distantly. "Why?"

"No reason, just curious," Simon said quickly, but Alec knew better.

"You're worried about Isabelle?" he guessed at once. "You think if she's a shadowhunter she'll forget about you?"

"I didn't say that," Simon said defensively.

"You meant to." Alec gave Simon a long, hard stare. He'd always been mildly protective of Isabelle, ever since he'd been old enough to know Isabelle was pretty and plenty of boys thought that way too. He could still remember his father pulling him aside and telling him it was his job to look after her, to make sure she didn't run astray with the wrong type of man. With his father's death, Alec had taken to the role of overprotective brother quickly, and he'd been sure to keep a close eye on the men who looked her way.

Simon had, by far, thrown him through a loop. Alec had never thought his sister would meet a lord, let alone one who thought of her as a lady. He was mostly used to the rough, crude men he'd known growing up; he had thought that was simply how all men behaved. Simon, with his pretty words and polite gestures and careful looks, was nothing but an anomaly to Alec.

However, he did trust him. "I wouldn't worry about it much," Alec said simply. "Isabelle seems taken with you."

Simon's eyes widened at this admission. "What?"

I'm trying to pay you a compliment, you oaf. "Regardless of the fact that you're a vampire, Isabelle likes you. I don't think she's known many men like you, and none to have taken a liking in her. I wouldn't worry about her forgetting you."

"I only meant-"

"Mean whatever you want, Simon," Alec sighed tiredly. "I shan't tell Isabelle, but just think on what I've told you. Goodnight, Simon."

Before Simon could say more, Alec turned and made for him room, pausing once to see that Max was in bed and asleep. He closed the door with a soft snap, leaving Simon alone in the hall, Isabelle's door opened invitingly. He swallowed, though he realized how pointless it was, as he was a vampire. He brushed the creases out of his shirt and carefully approached her door; politely, he knocked.

"Hello?" Isabelle called. "Alec?"

"No, no, it's me," Simon murmured, poking his face around the door. He saw her seated in her bed in a mess of blankets and smiled awkwardly. "If you're going to bed I'll leave you to it-"

"No, no, come in," said Isabelle quickly. "I was just thinking a bit is all; I could use the company."

Simon bowed his head and entered the room, making for a chair far from the bed; regardless of Isabelle's like for him, he was unaccustomed to being around women in their bed things. "It's been an eventful day, hasn't it?"

Isabelle bit her lip. "I want to be a shadowhunter, Simon, I really do, but…but how can I do it when it might mean I abandon Clary and Jace?"

"Is there an alternative?"

"No," said Isabelle, tossing her hair back. "No, but it seems I'm doing this almost pointlessly."

Simon laughed. "I don't think Clary and Jace see it as pointless."

"True, but part of me just wants to be something other than a farmer's daughter. Do you understand?" Isabelle peered at him closely. "All my life I've been nothing but a peasant, and this is my one chance to better my standing, to earn renown and glory for the name Lightwood. But then, I think, am I doing this for me or them? Am I right?"

"I think your cause is noble," Simon said gently, trying to calm her down. "You want to help your friends."

"Yes, but I want to help me, too." Isabelle tossed the blankets back and stood up; she went to the window and threw it open, letting the wind pick up her hair. "I want to do this to make myself better too, and isn't that selfish?"

The breeze sent a wave of fragrances to Simon, the smell of lilac and vanilla and blood. It mingled together in his mind and his train of thought was lost. Where is she getting vanilla from? he wondered. "You're not selfish."

"You forgive me too easily," Isabelle sighed, and bowed her head to the inevitable.

Simon gave himself a firm shake. You're a gentlemen, Simon, act like it! "If others see fit to forgive you, what right have you not to forgive yourself? Now, you're just stroking your ego."

For a moment, he thought he'd pushed Isabelle too far, but he saw her lips perk up and slowly, she lifted her face. Her eyes were gleaming when she said, "You think? Perhaps I'm a bit self indulgent?"

"We all indulge ourselves sometimes," Simon hedged, and he couldn't help but notice that he and Isabelle were all alone and she was very beautiful and very undressed.

Her smile widened and she drew a few steps nearer. "And what about you, Simon, do you ever indulge yourself?"

Simon's eyes widened and he tried to stop inhaling the intoxicating aroma of blood and Isabelle's skin. "I'm a gentleman."

"A vampire gentleman," she corrected and leaned in so her hair fell in perfect curtains around them. "How is that working for you?"

"Very-very well," Simon murmured, and he could hear her heart beating through her chest. "Isabelle-"

"I'm so tired of talking about me," she sighed. "I want to hear about you, Simon. I want you to talk to me, or something along those lines…"

Simon knew what Isabelle was going to do before she did it, and though every part of him was bursting for the chance, another small voice in his mind was crying wait! Isabelle leaned in and pressed her lips to his, and in that moment, Simon felt her small body invade the space around his, and he knew how easy it would be for him to grab her, hold her down, and sink is fangs into her throat. Her heart was pounding away, sweet smelling blood pumping through her veins, and all Simon could hear was that drumming in his head.

Just give in…just open your mouth a little wider…sink your fangs in…Simon closed his eyes, hardly of aware of his instincts taking over. That's right, it's been so long since you've had fresh blood, so long since…

"…so long since I've met so kind a man," Isabelle whispered.

"No!" Simon launched himself from his seat, knocking Isabelle backward. She stumbled and fell on the bed, staring at him in a mixture of shock and anger. "No, Isabelle, I-I can't."

Her cheeks flushed. "Of course not," she snapped. "Because I'm just a farmer's daughter, right? Because you're the Right and Honorable Lord Simon and I'm a peasant."

"No, please, understand-"

"Understand what?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not good enough?"

The smell of her blood was still in Simon's brain, fogging his thoughts. "I-I just can't right now…not when you're so-so-"

"So what?" she demanded.

"So human," he cried softly and covered his face before running from the room, leaving Isabelle sitting on the bed, mouth agape in confusion.

The light burned Clary's eyes and she clamped them shut, but too late, a pounding was already starting in her head. She buried herself down deeper in the blankets on the bed and concentrated completely on breathing. It didn't help her head much, but it allowed her the sense of self to think and figure out why she felt so horrible.

"Long night?"

Clary groaned. Just the sound of Jace's voice made her head ache. "I'll never drink wine again."

"You say that now," Jace murmured through the covers, "but I suspect that you'll be at it again tonight."

"I'm not going out tonight, I'm ill," Clary said simply, and pressed her face into the pillow. "Tell Jonathan I won't be joining him."

Jace chuckled. "For myself, I'm happy. You recall that yesterday I said I wasn't going to let the court keep you all to themselves, but you came back rather abruptly last night, and didn't quite give me the opportunity I wanted to make myself clear."

"Was I that bad?" Clary muttered.

Clary heard a rustling and then Jace climbed under the blankets with her. He smiled at her like she was a child. "Quite entertaining."

"Did I do anything-"

"Nothing amiss, Clary, don't worry. You came in, woke me up, said something about living, and then fell asleep; that left me to get you in bed. Aline threw a fit when she saw me taking your dress off…"

Clary smiled wanly. "I suppose she banished you from the room?"

"Oh, yes," said Jace seriously. "Strictly speaking, I'm not supposed to be in here right now, but I snuck in anyhow. I thought you could use a glass of water."

"That sounds heavenly," Clary sighed, and Jace reached out from the blankets to pluck it off the bedside table. Clary slurped it. "It's been so long since I've drunk such strong wine; I should have known better."

"What happened?" Jace asked, resting his chin on his palm and helping her drink.

"The court is…not the place it used to be," Clary said as she finished the water. "It's like with my father gone, all the laws and rules are too. Jonathan lets the people do whatever they wish, and it's madness."

"Do you think it's just a side-effect of the demons?"

"I think he doesn't care," Clary mused. "I think this place is just a ruin for him, and, very soon, he'll be leaving it behind, so why bother caring for it?"

Jace frowned. "There must be order."

"It's chaos. I can do and say whatever I want, and no one cares; Jonathan even encourages it." Clary thought back to the night of dancing and drinking. "It's frightening because I don't know what I'll do. I don' know what I want to do."

Jace raised an eyebrow. "How do you mean?"

"Well, when my father was king, I knew what was expected of me, I knew what my limitations were, and that was a good thing. It meant I couldn't do or say something that could hurt another person. I was never allowed to want for things. Now, when I can do what I like, I'm allowed to wonder what I might want, and if I want it, I can reach out and take it."

"Do you think you will?" Jace took the glass from her hands and placed it on the floor.

"I think I'm not used to being so free," Clary decided. "I need balance, I need an anchor."

"It sounds to me like Jonathan is hoping it will go to your head," Jace said thoughtfully. "He's giving you permission to do whatever you like-just like he does. I think it would be wise to be guarded in the court, no matter the circumstances."

"My pounding head agrees with you," Clary sighed.

Jace pulled her against him. "Come here, my sore little wife, let me help." Clary allowed Jace to hold her against his chest, effectively blocking out and light, and run his hands soothingly through her hair. If he ever grew tired of it, Jace didn't complain, and he stayed that way for a good hour, letting the worst of the headache ebb away while he hummed to himself. Clary didn't want to move, not while Jace was holding.

"Princess, Princess, are you here?" Aline's voice was like the screech of a bell, and Clary curled up tighter. "Princess, it's already early afternoon and you have to be up for the king-"

"Tell the king I'm indisposed," Clary grumbled from under the blankets. "With my apologies."

"But, Princess-"

"No, Aline, go away," Clary said sternly. "Jonathan can make it through one day without my presence."

"I don't think this will be met well," Jace sighed, and then kissed her; the moment his lips touched hers, a spark shot from the mark on her arm and to her lips. "You might want to go with her."

"You can't be serious," Clary said slowly, biting her lip to stop the warmth bubbling up there. "Jace, look what happened last time I went off with Jonathan."

"I see that," he said, pulling Clary so that she sat on his hips. "But, Jonathan clearly wants to be around you, and he wants you to be happy. I think we should be taking advantage of this."

"I don't want to go without you," Clary whined. She was hyperaware of Jace now, the pounding of his blood like a drum beat in her head. "Not yet, anyway."

Jace pulled Clary down so that he could kiss her again, and her skin tingled everywhere. He must have felt it this time because Jace delicately traced her lips with the pads of his thumbs. "Tell Aline you want to have lunch with Jonathan here, so that I can join you."

Clary was too preoccupied with the feelings coursing through her to respond at first, but slowly, she pulled her thoughts together. "Yes, Yes…Aline, tell Jonathan I'd like to take my lunch here."

Aline was quiet a moment, but then her voice was softly heard. "Yes, Princess."

"Good," Jace said gruffly. "Good, now come here, wife, and repay me for yesterday."

Clary relaxed against Jace and allowed his hands to run up the sides of her body, up into her hair, and then all the way back down. The kissing continued, sometimes passionate, sometimes gentle, sometimes rough bite. Her hands were moving frantically over Jace, fingers digging small scrapes into his back while his hands were effectively pushing away the headache from the wine. Clary gasped sharply against his throat when he drug his fingers over her thighs, and she pressed herself against him, biting at the soft spot on his neck, urging him silently to continue. And all the while, a heat was building between the two of them, setting their skin on fire; instead of stopping, though, they just allowed the heat to consume them.

"The danger of desirable wives," Jace said conversationally, hiking up her night gown, "is that they are quite a distraction from all other aspects of your day."

"Well, seeing as we're just going to be in this room," Clary rasped against his throat. "There's nothing to distract you from."

Jace paused, thoughtful, his fingers tracing circles on the tops of her thighs. "Sound reasoning, little wife," he said, and then fit her comfortably against him.

It was a pleasant afternoon, and one that that completely forced away any lasting memories from the night before. Later, when Clary lay against Jace's side, her head resting on his rising and falling chest, she looked up at him in the light. "The runes are getting stronger," Clary murmured.

Jace nodded. "I don't know what that means."

Clary kissed his chest. "It means that no matter what Jonathan-or anyone, for that matter-does they can't hurt us. We're tied together now."

Jace ran his fingers over his rune and it did nothing, but when he touched Clary's, it pulsed. Tied for all eternity…he wasn't sure if the thought was heartening or not, but it did mean that Clary wasn't going to be taken from him. Be grateful for that, at least.

"I wonder if Jonathan is going to-"

"Princess!"

No longer covered by the blankets, Aline was given a nice view of a very naked Clary and Jace, and her eyes were pinioned on Clary. "Oh, Aline!" Clary said, gathering blankets about her. "Is Jonathan coming soon?"

"He's ordered you to appear," she said, and her eyes shot to Jace. "You need to go. Go right now!"

"It's my room," Jace growled. "And, she's my wife."

"No, go!" Aline ordered, and she rushed over, swatting at Jace with a pillow. "Get out. Get out! I need to get the Princess ready for her meal."

"It's-my-room!" Jace snapped while Aline pummeled him with pillows, and Clary threw herself between them.

"Will he not be moved?"

"No, Princess. The King requests you immediately." Aline shivered. "He was not happy."

He'll hurt Jace, was Clary first thought. "Alright, alright, Aline get me ready quickly and I'll go down and meet him."

"Clary!" Jace said incredulously.

"No, I won't have him angry with you," she said, and slipped out of bed. "I'll be back as soon as I can, but I won't have him come up here and find us. Hurry, Aline."

Aline was more than happy to oblige, and though Jace tried to persuade her to change her mind, Clary was set. She allowed Aline to dress her quickly, not bothering to wash, and tied her hair into something presentable. She eyed herself in the mirror just once, to see if she even looked like a lady, and saw a pretty reflection dressed in mauve with ribbons in her hair.

"I'll come back, Jace, but if he's angry with me, he's liable to take it out on you," Clary reasoned as Jace approached her.

He kissed her tiredly. "I know, and I'll stay behind and wait, and maybe see if I can't get anything out of Aline, but it doesn't sit well with me."

"Me either," Clary whispered, and then offered Aline a smile. "Well, I'll see myself off. You stay here with Jace and get acquainted."

Aline bowed and Clary allowed Jace one more kiss before going. The trip to the Great Hall was much shorter this time, and Clary had every intention of making it last a while. Nothing helped, though, and soon, Clary was standing again before the door with the words, he was not happy, ringing in her head. She glanced down once more at her rune and then opened the doors.

It didn't matter that the place was filled with demons all snarling and snapping. It didn't matter that there was the sounds of human screams echoing off the walls. It didn't matter that Clary was completely defenseless. No, all that mattered was the furious look Jonathan gave Clary when he said, "Ah, Clarissa, so kind of you to finally join us after such a trying morning."