Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews from the last chapter. It would be nice to know if this story is being read and enjoyed. I know this story is being read, but I like knowing that I am writing for more than a faceless mass of people. The occasional bit of encouragement would be nice, you know. Thanks to my faithful readers (you know who you are) who, in my darkest nights, give me a reason to write.

Chapter 4: The Law

Following Stephen's initiation, nothing much happened in Stephen and Amatis's life. Luke found them a crib and helped move it into the tiny room they designated as a nursery. Amatis's morning sickness passed, and she met with a midwife who said that everything was progressing perfectly with the pregnancy. Planning for the baby became a huge part of their lives. Amatis didn't ask about joining the Circle, and while Stephen continued to wear his Circle amulet, he kept it beneath his shirt and never talked about it.

Valentine did write to Stephen to inform him of a position that became available at the Gard, which was the governing center of Idris. Stephen interviewed for the job and got it. He began to spend twelve hour shifts four nights a week in the prison cells beneath the Gard, watching over the werewolves, vampires, warlocks, faeries, and Shadowhunters who disobeyed either the Law or the Accords.

On Stephen's second night of work he walked into the locker room to find that Michael had taken a job at the prison as well, doing the same thing as Stephen. At the Academy, Michael finished close to first in class ranking when it came to languages and had interviewed for a position at the new Institute being built in Amsterdam. Working in a prison seemed so unlike what anyone expected for Michael, but Stephen didn't question it. A job was a job.

One of Stephen's duties was to feed the prison's occupants. This meant he was to bring rare steaks to those affected with lycanthropy, normal, human food to the warlocks and Shadowhunters, some sort of sweet smelling concoction to the one faerie prisoner, and fresh blood to the vampires. Stephen always volunteered to feed the vampires. He considered it penance for his sins, even more so when he gave a vampire some blood and they feasted on it as if they hadn't eaten since the last time Stephen gave them blood.

Stephen didn't ask how the prison was able to serve hot, fresh blood every night. The same laws that were followed outside the prison were followed inside as well, but were interpreted differently. Most of the guards hated their jobs, and more over, hated the prison's population of Downworlders. Valentine's attitude that the Downworlders deserved to die was a way of life in the dark underbelly of the Gard. While Stephen and Michael were the only Circle members employed by the Gard, given the chance, all of the guards would have been loyal followers of Valentine's.

Most of the Shadowhunters imprisoned in the Gard wouldn't look at Stephen. When he came by with a meal, they would sit in their cells with their back to the door, staring at the wall, no doubt debating the fine line between right and wrong. Stephen couldn't help but wonder how many of them violated the Accords not because they had to, but because their lives depended on it. Regardless, he knew that if anyone found out what transpired that night with Valentine, it could just as easily be him waiting for a trial that would never come.

One bright spot in the dim light of the Gard was Michael, who met Stephen before every shift and brought food his wife made. They spent most of their shifts working together, sometimes talking the entire time, and sometimes, working in silence. Feelings bloomed between them which weren't romantic in nature, but were caring and affectionate. They came from similar backgrounds and shared the same lifestyle at the Academy, though now, Michael was living in a manor house while Stephen's father cut him off from the family's wealth. Stephen was too proud to admit that sometimes, it was hard to put enough food on the table for he and Amatis. Michael figured this out quickly and always brought more than enough food to share, though they never discussed it. In time, Stephen viewed Michael as something he never had before: a friend.

One evening Stephen came home from working 24 hours straight to find Amatis sitting in the living room, going through some mail. Stephen fell onto the couch beside her, still dressed in his guard uniform, and laid his head on Amatis's shoulder. He felt feverish and had spent half of his shift with his head in Michael's lap as they watched over a wing of werewolves. He feared he might be getting sick, but could have been exhausted.

"We have been invited to you parent's house for brunch this weekend," Amatis said. "Abigail is coming to town." Stephen rolled his eyes. Abigail, his older sister, was 20 and had gotten married last year to a man named Jeremiah Carstairs. Abigail was bearable but there was something about her husband that Stephen didn't like, though he couldn't figure out what. "Also, this was addressed to you." Amatis handed Stephen a crisp white envelope sealed with a wax "M."

"Who is it from?" Stephen asked. Amatis shrugged. Stephen opened the envelope and read over the enclosed document. "It's an invitation. Michael's son is being christened. Valentine is hosting a party."

"Does this mean I actually get to meet the members of the top secret society my husband has become a part of?" Amatis asked. "Oh, what should I wear?" She jumped off the couch, clapping her hands. "Tell me, should I go casual, or formal? What do they think of red?"

"Amatis, it's not funny," Stephen said. "This is serious business."

"How serious?" Amatis asked. Stephen shrugged and looked away. Amatis spent the last few weeks trying to pry secrets out of Stephen, but there were none he could give up. Wearing the amulet made him paranoid of being discovered, however, he couldn't bring himself to take it off. For the first time in his entire life, Stephen felt like he belonged to something that might make a difference.

"It's serious," Stephen said.

"I don't like what the Circle has done to you. To us," Amatis said. "You won't talk-"

"There's nothing to say!" Stephen exclaimed.

Ever since the day Stephen came home freshly initiated into the Circle, this was how things had been. Amatis asked Stephen something and one way or another they fought. Before, there was never anything to fight about. Now, there was the Circle, and the baby, and their house, which was once the right size but was now too small. One wrong word had the power to ignite a screaming fight between them. Fighting wasn't the only thing coming between them, either.

"Tell me what happened to you that night," Amatis said. "We're either slamming the headboard off the wall, or you won't even let me touch you. You hate yourself for something, I just know it."

"I don't hate myself!" Stephen exclaimed. "There's nothing to make me hate myself." He pictured the vampire gasping until he killed it, and Celine, half naked, on top of him. "There's nothing, Amatis. Nothing."

"Why won't you look at me?" Amatis asked. "You used to look me in the eye, no matter how awful your thoughts were. Now…"

"You're being dramatic," Stephen mumbled.

"Talk to me. Tell me things, the way you did before," Amatis said. "I feel like I've lost you." She touched him on the wrist, close to his scar, and Stephen jerked his hand away.

"I can't talk about it!" Stephen cried. "I don't know when I can. I don't know if I want to talk about it. I don't know, Amatis. I just don't know." He buried his face in his hands and felt tears fill his eyes, because he was just so tired of everything.

"What don't you know?" Amatis asked.

"What's going to happen next?" Stephen whispered.

A few days later, Stephen rode out of town with Amatis. They were having brunch with his parents and would spend the day with them before going to Fairchild Manor for the christening party that evening.

"Are we going to tell your parents about the baby?" Amatis asked.

"It's a bit hard to hide, no?" Stephen asked. Amatis shook her head, barely able to hide her emotions. Stephen closed his eyes and shook his head. The night before, he woke up from a nightmare depicting his initiation, only, in the dream, he was the vampire, and Valentine was the one leaning over him with a dagger in his hands. Stephen woke up from the dream and fell out of bed, biting the knuckles on his hand to keep from either crying or screaming. He was downstairs on the couch reading when Amatis woke up several hours later.

Stephen told himself he had nothing to blame her for, that she didn't know what happened, and it was wrong to punish her for everything, but he couldn't help but be short with her.

"Fine, then, we won't-"

"I'm sorry," Stephen said. "We'll tell them." He reached over, took Amatis's hand, and held it for the rest of the ride.

Soon, a sprawling house came into view. Stephen was certain Will must have been compensating for something when he had the Herondale manor house built. The structure was only two stories tall, but was long, expansive, and filled with windows. There were two turrets at either end of the house, which made it look like a small castle.

"Home sweet home," Stephen remarked. He and Amatis left their horses in the hands of a stable boy and went to the house to find the front door open. They walked through to a sitting room and found a small collection of people drinking mimosas despite it being just past nine in the morning. Marcus, Stephen's father was there, with his wife, Imogen. His sister, Abigail, was sitting on a love seat with his husband, Jeremiah. A man and a woman with their backs to the door. Everyone was laughing except for Marcus; Marcus never laughed.

"Stephen!" The woman exclaimed. She leapt up from the couch and hurried over. Stephen barely had time to recognize her before she slammed into his body.

"Aunt Tessa, what are you doing here?" Stephen asked. He felt ten times happier just knowing she was there. Aunt Tessa always came to visit with plenty of new stories about the things she had seen and the places she had visited. When Stephen was much younger, he would sit at her feet and listen, open mouthed, as she recounted her adventures as a shape shifting warlock. He once even harbored a crush on her that was confusing, to say the least. Allegedly, Aunt Tessa was well known for confusing Herondale boys.

"Magnus and I ran into your sister and brother in law in Beijing. We thought we would stop by," Tessa said. The man on the couch turned to Stephen. Magnus Bane spent much of his life traveling the world with Tessa. They each barely looked a day over 19, despite Tessa being 130 and Magnus being, at last count, somewhere just over 700.

"It's been a little while," Magnus said. He looked Stephen up and down with a faraway look in his eyes. Magnus always looked at Stephen that way, like instead of just seeing Stephen; he was seeing every Herondale he ever came in contact with. Magnus stood up and embraced Stephen, then Amatis as well.

"Magnus was just telling us how busy he's been, traveling the world for work," Marcus said. Stephen regarded his father, who had yet to make a move to greet his only son. Marcus looked like every Herondale who came before him. His eyes were a deep blue, which clashed sharply with his jet black hair. He was wide and foreboding, like Valentine, and unlike Stephen. Stephen took after his mother's side of the family, with his fair complexion, light hair, and slim build.

"Yes. I've been very busy, but I've seen some wonderful things," Magnus said.

"Stephen's been busy," Amatis said. "He got a job up at the Gard, working with the prisoners." Marcus looked Stephen up and down. A vein stuck out in his neck for a moment as he clenched his jaw.

"A job at the Gard. Working with the prisoners," Marcus said. "I'm impressed." Marcus was anything but impressed. he expected his son to take a job running an Institute the way he had. "And how did you get such a posh position, Stephen? Did you know someone?" Stephen blushed.

"That's enough," Imogen said. "A job is a job, and it's a good, noble job if it serves the Cause."

"Of course, Imogen, you're right. We should be proud he has a job at all. He only graduated four months ago. It's about time he sought employment," Marcus said. "I'm so proud of you, my son."

"No you're not," Stephen mumbled. Marcus glared at Stephen for the briefest of seconds. Stephen stepped backwards and bumped into Amatis.

"Your sister has brought us wonderful news, so she says," Marcus said. "Abigail, darling?"

Abigail grinned and grabbed her husband's hand.

"We're having a baby!" She exclaimed.

Stephen attempted to fake his enthusiasm, but found it unnecessary. Imogen and Marcus were suddenly screaming and laughing. Magnus was clapping and talking excitedly with Aunt Tessa. Abigail began to cry as Imogen yelled over and over "I just knew! I just knew you were pregnant at the wedding!"

Stephen pulled Amatis back into the hallway, not that anyone noticed. He brushed her hair off her shoulders, and then nuzzled his lips against her neck, holding her against him, feeling like she was the only thing good about the day.

They sat down to brunch soon after. The conversation focused around when Abigail was due (March!) what she was having (a girl!) what she wanted to name her (Meredith or Mary!). It was obvious that the prospect of a daughter bothered Jeremiah, as observed with his silence regarding the subject. All children born to the Nephilim were considered purposeful, however, sons were preferred.

Stephen spent half the meal with his hand on Amatis's stomach, trying to endure the meal as best he could. He didn't bother with announcing that he and Amatis were expecting; Abigail and Jeremiah had already stolen their thunder. Instead, Stephen thought of names, such as Stephen Jr. and Lucas and Meghan and Ruth and Samuel and Samantha. Amatis claimed the baby was beginning to kick, though Stephen couldn't feel it, just yet.

"Stephen and I have a little announcement to make," Amatis said. Stephen nearly choked on his cheese blintz. He grabbed his glass of milk and had a sip. "We're having a baby boy!"

"You're kidding," Imogen said. Amatis stood up and pulled her shirt tight. Abigail barely looked pregnant, but Amatis's stomach was something to be proud of. Stephen felt his mouth fall open.

"A boy?" Stephen asked. "Why didn't you tell me? When did you…?"

"Before," Amatis said. "I went to see one of the Silent Brothers. He told me."

"A boy," Stephen said. He fought back tears. "You're giving me a son?" Stephen laid his hand on her stomach and looked up at her, eyes filled with wonder. She had surprised him, yet again.

"Yes, a son," Amatis said. "A son." Stephen saw Jeremiah cringe, and he decided that he couldn't have loved Amatis any more than he did in this moment.

Everyone immediately asked all of the questions they asked Abigail. Amatis allowed Stephen to answer them and gloat. All the while, Marcus sipped his tea and glared at Stephen. Marcus always stressed that first comes love, then comes marriage, and then, finally, a baby in the baby carriage. Sure, Stephen married Amatis and now she was pregnant, but Marcus would still find fault with their methods.

After the meal, everyone went to relax outside, where the conversation turned to babies once more. Marcus excused himself to smoke a cigar in his office. Stephen didn't smoke and couldn't stand it when anyone did, yet he still sat silently in his chair and waited for an invitation that would never come.

"Dear, can you bring a fresh pitcher of mimosas?" Imogen asked.

"Certainly, darling," Marcus said, and walked inside.

After a few minutes, Magnus leaned over and kissed Tessa on the cheek.

"I'll be back," Magnus said. "I'm just going inside to…" Stephen doubted Magnus was a smoker. Magnus walked inside.

"Why don't you marry him?" Amatis asked.

"Amatis!" Stephen exclaimed. The idea of his Aunt Tessa being with anyone was despairing, let alone Magnus who seemed not to be the marrying type.

"Eternity is a long time to spend with one person," Tessa said. "Besides, he doesn't feel that way for me, the way a husband should feel for his wife. We had our times, of course, but… eternity is a very long time."

"I'm getting some water," Stephen said. The girls had launched into another conversation, ignoring him. He slipped inside, walked through the house, and was waiting outside the bathroom when Magnus walked out.

"I need to talk to you," Stephen said. He pulled Magnus into another room and closed the door. "What are you doing in Idris?"

"Visiting your family. Working," Magnus said. "Why?"

"You can't be here. You need to leave," Stephen said.

Stephen's family was always kind to Magnus and Tessa, the same way Magnus and Tessa were kind to the Herondales. Over a hundred years ago, Magnus did a favor for Will, though what the favor was had never been revealed. Now, the Herondale family was forever in Magnus's debt. Besides that, Magnus and Tessa were practically family.

"Will- I mean, Stephen, are you in some sort of trouble?" Magnus asked.

Stephen looked away. He had yet to define what he was in, beyond the Circle. "There's this group of people called the Circle. Their leader wants to wipe out all Downworlders, warlocks included. He'll stop at nothing. You need to leave Idris before he has a reason…"

"Stephen," Magnus said. He rested his hands on Stephen's shoulders. "Is there something going on I need to know about?"

"I can't tell you," Stephen said. "If you value your life, you'll leave Idris, and never come back. Go away. Go to New York. That's a big city, right?"

"Stephen, I-" Magnus looked confused. He was so unassuming, like all Downworlders were. They didn't perceive a threat from a race of people sworn to protect the world.

"Go," Stephen said. Magnus nodded and left the room.

Marcus found Stephen not long after. Stephen wanted to avoid his father but that wasn't possible. No one avoided Marcus Herondale for very long. Stephen was getting a glass of water when Marcus walked in, poured himself a drink and regarded his son for a moment.

"Exciting stuff with Abby, yes?" Stephen asked.

"All children are a blessing," Marcus said. "Even those which are conceived out of wedlock."

"I don't think the conception of my child is any of your business," Stephen snapped. He turned around, feeling bold.

"It's just poor form to welcome a child eight months into a marriage, is all," Marcus said. "It's a bit… obvious. Then again, you have always lacked in self control."

"I'm not sure what you're angry about, father. If you're angry that I had sex before I got married, I don't think it's any of your business. If you hate my wife, just say it to my face," Stephen said.

Marcus looked shocked, which filled Stephen with a feeling of accomplishment. It was obvious in the way that Marcus looked at his daughter in law, like he expected more for Stephen than the daughter of two people who lived in the more poor section of Alicante. Then again, Marcus always expected more for Stephen.

"I don't hate her," Marcus said. "I'm concerned about her, is all."

Stephen knew all of the stories about the Graymark family, all of which were explained to him by Amatis one drunken night she spent the night, against the rules, in his dorm room. Luke and Amatis's father had been crushed to death in a construction accident while working at the Prague Institute in Czech Republic. When their mother heard the news she went mad and took off, abandoning Luke and Amatis when they were 16 and 12, respectively. Ever since then, the Graymark family was regarded warily. Shadowhunters weren't keen to children being left on their own. The Graymark family was condemned as a result.

"I love her," Stephen said. "I don't need your opinion on it." He turned for the door.

"So have you joined the Circle?" Marcus asked. The Circle wasn't a secret, not among the older members of the Clave, anyway.

"I went to a meeting, yes," Stephen said. "There's a lot of good that can come with reform, father. It's interesting to… learn about it."

"There's nothing wrong with learning," Marcus said. "It's just what the Circle represents that bothers me. We've lived for a thousand years with the laws we have. We've survived because of those laws. There's no need to change a good thing." That was the same attitude most everyone had. Shadowhunters believed they had more important things to deal with then themselves.

"So the werewolves are allowed to hunt and the vampires are allowed to scheme against us and the mundanes are allowed to be blissfully ignorant to the work we do to keep them safe, and we're to sit by, mutely, because of what? Outdated laws?" Stephen asked. "This is the 21st century, father!"

"And we are still fighting an old enemy!" Marcus exclaimed. "Evil exists, Stephen. It always has. You cannot fight evil with more evil!"

"Are we to fight it with love?" Stephen asked. "Will love keep the mundanes safe in their beds at night? The law is-"

"The law is the law!" Marcus yelled. "I law is HARD, Stephen, but it is the LAW!"

"Fuck the law," Stephen said. In a flash, Marcus's hand lifted and cracked Stephen across the face. Stephen cried out, making not a manly sort of noise, but the noise a young boy might make. His eyes filled with unwanted tears. Marcus glared a Stephen, no doubt hating him for any number of reasons. "You taught me to stand up for what I believe! This is what I believe! Aren't you proud of me, father?"

"You've done nothing to make me proud of you. Nothing yet, anyway," Marcus said. "Now put yourself back together. We have guests, Stephen." Without another word, Marcus walked outside.

Author's Note: Please review, if you nothing else than to tell me to keep going. Please? Here is a teaser:

"You aren't the only one who has killed for him," Michael said.