This is more of a dry update than any stylish prose, but I figured it's necessary to know what characters have gotten up to! Trying to get things out when I can. I wrote these in an email in disjointed chunks so hopefully I managed to catch all the missing pieces and fill them in ahahaha forgive me if I haven't!
"Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice..." Gratitude didn't come easily to Lily. She gave a look at the Shadowhunter woman at the table before offering the scribe in the corner a curious look, knowing that her watchfulness would be interpreted as hesitation or worry. Meekness, even; those were all acceptable evaluations. Slowly, she reached to pull out a chair and take a seat, fixing the woman with a careful stare as she feigned gathering her thoughts. "It's just that I know things are moving so fast and-"
"You'll have to speak quickly. I have a meeting after this to discuss options," the woman said, cutting her off without an apologetic remark. "Lily Intira, right? Just confirm for the records."
Lily's expression was smooth, but even that didn't hide the hint of annoyance in her gaze at being interrupted. "Yes, that's me." Still, she gave a wary, close-lipped smile. "You might not have heard of my name. My mother is well known and has a true Shadowhunter surname, but my father is an Ascendant."
"We can skip over the family details." The woman clasped her hands over a closed folder that she had in front of her, fixing Lily with an unfazed look. "You should understand that this is inconvenient for us. This is an ordeal that we're close to finally finishing, so I hope you have a real reason to be here instead of coming with the intent to just stall and cause more work."
"Are you...really that keen on rushing through this?" Lily couldn't help a genuine look of concern. As much as she acknowledged internally how shallow her own intentions were, it didn't mean she didn't have her own qualms with the justice system that the Council implemented, having seen firsthand how it'd screwed her family over. "This is a criminal you're talking about, you know."
With a sigh, the woman pursed her lips. "We've seen Downworlders do worse and recover just fine. Many of his missteps were unrelated incidents," she said, as if that made things any more acceptable. "We've threatened severe punishment, but he hasn't harmed any Shadowhunters or allied Downworlders in the past year, and doesn't seem inclined to do so again. Formal evaluations are still set to take place in a week, but the main motivator for his...delinquency in the past isn't a factor anymore."
"His...crimes aren't just isolated incidents. He tried to kill me when we first met. I'm a good Shadowhunter, thankfully, but I should've seen his nature from the start." Any loyal Unseelie would've tried harder to kill her - everyone knew that - but it had been the first time she'd encountered a Downworlder that had been sincerely out for her life and the first time she'd seen an Unseelie. If she closed her eyes, she could still see the glint of knives, taste blood, and remember the sudden moment of mutual fascination. It was strange how curiosity towards the unknown could quell even the most rabid of stray dogs. "I knew it would...do some good for us to have a better glimpse into the Unseelie. Maybe I tried to accomplish something too ambitious for my age, but it was a cause I believed in."
There was something embarrassing about having to play the role of some wounded, naive girl, and it was even more demeaning when the woman gave her a doubtful look. "We're not on good terms with the Unseelie and we never have been. It's normal for Shadowhunters, especially ones in urban areas, to see greater amounts of hostility due to the increased levels of Downworlders, especially when fae from the Unseelie or the Hunt are involved."
"Faeries shouldn't get a pass because of their backgrounds. Being a Shadowhunter is difficult and even inhumane, at times, but you don't see us using our upbringing as a way to justify hurting people." It was a lie, but it was still a convincing thing to say. Thousands of Shadowhunters made excuses for their cruelty, and she knew she was no exception. Lily crossed her arms on the table, looking down at some of the chipped polish that still hadn't come off one of her nails. "And I get it...Whatever. Sometimes people just do bad things when they're cornered, but he cared about me and he still hurt me. I have the scars to prove it, you know, and...everyone that knew us when we were together knew he had a violent streak. Is that really the type of person you're comfortable with relocating?"
She liked that sort of fight in people. She had challenged him a hundred times, finding and testing every boundary until it provoked some sort of response, knowing that no one had treated him in the same way she had. Shadowhunter boys had always been boring during that time of her life; they liked to talk, but all of them were too afraid to wet their blades. On the other hand, Unseelies didn't know how to keep theirs dry. He had spoken about how training sessions in the Unseelie were perfect simulations of real fights - if someone slipped up, then they were too weak to represent the Court in battle. Better to be dead than make the Court lose face, was how he'd put it. And she had to admit that it was refreshing to spar with someone who wasn't concerned with holding back, and iratzes were easy fixes to all the minor scrapes and cuts she'd acquired during their sessions. It was a language they both spoke fluently, so it was no surprise that they gravitated towards it.
"Sometimes risk management is about removing people from precarious situations and placing them in environments where they won't have access to people that might influence or coerce them into behaving in ways that are harmful towards themselves or the community they live in." The woman flipped through the folder in front of her, thumbing through a few documents that hadn't been looked at for years. Not since the first time she had complained and been denied, she imagined. "Like I said, the past year for him has been...fairly clear. For a former Unseelie, at least. We recognize the gravity of his actions, but it's no secret that we have to hold people like him to a different standard."
"Different standard? He's been away from the Court for years now," Lily said with no small look of offense, giving an indignant huff. "Do you not care about protecting Shadowhunters? About his explicit dislike for our kind? You can look in the hundreds of notes I took that he repeatedly spoke of how the Unseelie regards us as a threat. That our lives are worth next to nothing to them. Don't tell me you can't see a correlation between his words and his behaviour?"
"If it was that serious, you could have pursued this seriously years ago," the woman responded, her lips pressed together in a thin, judgmental line. "This'll hurt your case going forward. Delegitimize it, even. What you experienced might not be regarded as relevant information now."
"You're kidding, right? I did try to make a case years ago when it all happened, and I was told to drop it for everyone's sake. That it was 'the nature of fae to be troublesome' and that relations with fae were 'too fragile' to think of going after someone who wouldn't likely pose a future problem." It felt impossible to stifle her frustration, feeling an angry tear streak down her cheek. She hadn't worn waterproof makeup that day; she'd learned that others had always pitied those who were less put-together and no one would afford her sympathy if she'd lifted her chin in defiance and been fastidious with her appearance. "I've had to live with this kind of stain. You would rather just argue about the timing rather than keep someone...dangerous from hurting another one of our kind?"
Still, she hated crying in front of other people, scarcely doing it even in front of people she cared about. It made her feel less of a Shadowhunter in front of those that hadn't worked even half as hard as she had. Still, she wasn't met with anymore remarks of skepticism, only with the stares from the woman and the scribe.
"...Well, we'll take your concerns seriously." The woman closed the folder, setting it aside. "I wish we weren't so pressed for time, but you've provided us with a lot to think about. We'll be in touch if there are points of clarification that are needed."
"Yeah, I hope you mean that, or you're a fucking coward, you know," Lily remarked as she stood up suddenly, grabbing her jacket from the chair, blinking away the residual wetness in her eyes. She'd fix her makeup when she left, but she didn't want to look as if she was more consumed by her appearance than her words. "More willing to protect a Downworlder than one of your own, right?"
She ignored the looks of disapproval, walking to leave the room with the door slamming shut behind her, the sound echoing down the hall. A few minutes were all they could afford her? Was that the state of things nowadays? Still, they'd have to consider her words. It was only embarrassing that she had to act as if he scared her.
He'd always been soft in all the ways that mattered. Even the souring of memories hadn't made her forget the quiet nights of sitting on rooftops and in training rooms, nestled into each other with the kind of affection she'd never expected from an Unseelie. Even when he'd pinned her down the last time they'd seen each other, panting, feeling the dampness of his blood through her clothes and his blatant refusal to harm her in all the ways she'd deserved, she'd just looked up at him in smug accomplishment. Part of her was certain the Clave could never tame him like she had.
She would have never settled for a faerie, but the newness of it all been nice while it'd lasted. Now she was just keen on cleaning up her past messes, and it was lucky that she'd been afforded an easy opportunity.
The night was dark, but the company was forgiving and the fire was bright. Ethos sat by a deerlike creature that had settled there before him, her legs tucked under herself and her nose buried in her hide. Every now and again, he couldn't help reaching out to run his fingers over a dapple-white pattern on the back of her neck, earning a reactive ripple of her fur at the sensation. It was coarse to the touch, but not unpleasant, and it was nice to know she wasn't quick to move despite his unfamiliar presence, though he imagined the warmth from the nearby fire was enough to lull her regardless of his proximity.
His horse was busy grazing alongside the other deer, a few nymphs watching as she rustled her nose through the grass, the white scar on her side catching the firelight. They were nervous but curious, having mostly seen horses from a distance when they were occupied by imposing Knights and armored rogues. But his horse behaved, keeping to herself even when one approached to inspect the defect where the arrow had been removed.
"Your mount is popular with our den and deer." A faerie of unrecognizable heritage came to kneel by him, her grey skin seeming silver when the light hit it. She was one of the few that knew a language close to his own and it was fortuitous that she was willing to speak with him to understand his questions and requests. "It helps them to be less afraid, I think."
"Your people have reason to be afraid, so I don't fault them for it. There are many dangers lurking beyond this village," Ethos said, drawing his gaze from the horse so he could look directly into the fire. The warmth on his face was comforting - he could've sat in silence and watched it for moons. "So I am grateful that your people did not see me as a threat."
"New travelers are few and far between." Her black eyes swallowed the flames and her fingers pressed into the soft grass. "Sometimes we're willing to suspend our fear because our curiosity prevails. We would not be so capable if we did not allow surprises and new encounters to shape us."
Gently, he brushed away some ashes that had settled on the deer's fur, earning another twitch from her in response. "You put it well. I should learn from your ability to adapt."
He quieted when another faerie approached, looking more gentry than the rest, his eyes darting distrustfully to Ethos before he crouched to speak with the woman. They spoke in soft tones, obscured by the crackling of the fire and it was difficult for Ethos to catch much of it when he was unfamiliar with the dialect that they used. He knew the accent well enough, though - those soft hisses at the end of words, stressed fricatives, and shallow intonations were unmistakable. His gaze followed the faerie even when he stood back up with a curt nod and turned to leave, watching the way he walked with acute familiarity.
"He's an Unseelie," he observed, realizing his hand had instinctively migrated to where his sword was lying on the ground beside him. He pulled it back, resting his hand in his lap instead and hoping they hadn't noticed the gesture.
"Was," she corrected. Her voice was sad if he listened hard enough, and he was relieved that her attention still seemed to be on the other faerie as he disappeared into a stone structure that had already started to become consumed by moss. "The Elfame isn't as kind to everyone as it is to you."
He gave a slow bow of his head in acquiescence. "Yes, I'm certainly learning that."
When she tilted her head to the sky, he swore he could see the stars in her irises. "We do the best we can for lost travelers. Sometimes uninterrupted sleep and a fire is the best we can do to warm distrustful hearts."
"And perhaps you've saved people in that way," Ethos said, watching as the deer lifted her head to adjust, hiding his inward delight when she rested her chin on his lap instead. Gently, he rested a hand against her back, his fingers parting her fur. "It is a noble thing you do. Not many would have the patience."
"No, not many." She smiled at the deer, reaching forward herself to give her a light pat before she stood up, bits of grass and flowers sticking to her dress. "We keep watch when it's dark, so no need to do so for us. Please rest when you need to."
"I will, thank you," he said gratefully, giving a grateful bow of his head. "I think I'll stay out here for a little longer."
The faerie answered with an understanding nod before she turned to head away, her footsteps silent in the brush. With the hand that wasn't resting on the deer, he reached up to touch the tooth where it hung over his shirt, having let it stay untucked while he was outside of the Seelie territory. The weight was familiar now, and he'd picked up the habit of fiddling with it while he was in thought - a borrowed mannerism from its previous owner. For someone who was resistant to change, it was odd how quickly some new things had started to feel normal.
A bit of crackling from the fire drew his attention as the wood shifted, sending a few ashes into the air. The deer didn't stir, and he didn't mind sitting there with just her and his thoughts, appreciating the trust she gave him and the attention she allowed him to give her. Those were the silent moments where the free lands felt as much of a home as the Seelie did, unable to explain how natural it felt to make camp with those who were kind enough to take him in. How comfortable conversations felt with those who didn't care to keep up pretenses, interested in impressing no one. There was nothing else like it, and he didn't know what it was that drove him to ride further and further out. Strangely, he was only disappointed to explore the lands alone.