A/N: So this was just supposed to be a short chapter with a couple of things I wanted to add/address. But then I ended up adding a bit more… haha enjoy

~~ Santi ~~

Standing in Mason's office, Santi felt a little inconsequential, wondering what he was doing there in New York in the first place. It had been a rash decision to move, and he knew nothing of the people or the city. At least, he thought wryly, he could speak the language.

Picking up his case file, Mason flicked through it, as he sat at his desk. "An Ascendant," he remarked, before looking up at him, and Santi felt that he was being analysed. "New York isn't the safest place for beginners."

"I'm not exactly a beginner," Santi stated, clearing his throat. "I-…" He couldn't get far before he was interrupted.

"If you need training, there's a capable trainer who often visits here, called Alaric. Perhaps you could convince him to take you on."

"I've been properly trained," Santi insisted. "By a Shadowhunter who was older than me. The Clave assigned him to train me. I can assure you that I will be able to do my fair share here."

Mason's expression didn't change and he still had the feeling that he was being judged. "That is good to know. We can always use more capable help here. In any case, if you need help finding something, you can ask me or someone else here. Do you have any other questions?"

Santi hesitated, before forcing himself to speak up. "A request, actually," he started, slowly. "I was wondering if you could keep the fact that I'm an Ascendant quiet?"

Mason gave him a displeased look. "You want me to lie about it to the residents here?"

His words grew a little quicker in his haste. "I'm not asking you to lie about it or anything, but just if you could avoid mentioning it if possible?" It was an important part of starting afresh that people thought he was a proper Shadowhunter. He did not want a repeat of his experience at his last Institute, and it was a survival mechanism, more than anything else.

"I will do my best to not… bring it up, if possible," Mason worded, carefully. "But I will not hide the fact if someone asks me."

"Thank you… that's all I'm asking for," Santi said, with a slight nod. "I… won't disturb you for any longer. I have a bit of unpacking to do, anyway."

Mason set his file down. "Of course. Make sure you keep me updated with your progress."

Santi made a sound of agreement, before starting out. He was pretty sure he remembered how to find his way back to his room. There was undoubtedly a lot to learn, and he only hoped he could keep up.

~~ Savannah and Nathan ~~

Sitting at the desk in her room, Savannah's hand moved fast as she wrote up the report of a task she'd completed that morning in the Towns. If she got her work finished quickly, then perhaps she'd have time to head to Alicante to question someone there about the incident Milo had talked about seeing in the Towns. Staring at the page, she was careful to control her thoughts. Focus on her work, not on other things.

At an insistent knock at the door, she exhaled in annoyance, already guessing who it was. Turning in her chair, she looked back at the door as Nathan stepped inside. His gaze searched her, as if looking for something. "You left the gathering rather quickly," he remarked, raising an eyebrow. "Was your report so urgent?"

He was probing, and she knew it. "Yes actually, it was. I don't have time to sit at cafes all morning," she said, raising her chin.

She watched as he moved closer, until he was leaning against her desk. "I can tell something's off, you know," he started, and she kept her expression carefully even. "I know you can be moody on occasion, but you're not normally like this. Biting people's heads off, dear sister, is certainly no way to make friends."

"Well people change, Nathan. Maybe you don't know me so well anymore," she stated, trying hard to keep her cool, until he uttered his next words.

"Is it to do with that former Unseelie that was killed?" he asked bluntly, eyeing her. "I heard you seemed upset when Milo told you. And I know of your past… dealings with him."

She froze. How much did he know, exactly? "My mood really has nothing to do with you," she snapped. "Go find someone else to annoy."

"There. That tone and that defensiveness," he said, leaning down closer to her, so they were nearly eye-level. "It has affected you."

She was tempted to remain silent, but she couldn't quite still her tongue. "Why would I care about some former Unseelie? Don't imply such stupid things."

"I could ask you the same thing," he said, an eyebrow remaining raised. "You know the trouble our family has had with the fae. You shouldn't be seeking to get mixed up with them – it's reckless."

"You know that I know that," she said, brushing off his words as she raised her chin again. "Don't treat me like a child. He was a good contact in the Towns, and that's all."

"I don't know if I believe you," he murmured, before he straightened. "In any case, this is not a bad thing – you'll see that eventually. The less contact we have with the fae, the better."

She didn't reply, and it seemed that he hadn't finished talking, anyway. "And just in case I need to remind you, you are engaged, you realise. I hope you don't plan on messing that up. You know our parents are happy with the arrangements."

She narrowed her eyes. "I'm not ready to be tied down in a marriage, if that's what you're trying to get at," she stated, not really caring how much her words might annoy him. "It is merely an arrangement that suits me for now."

"When are you going to grow up, Savannah?" he sighed, looking disappointed. "Some of us realise that we have to sacrifice things for this family. Sometimes we don't have a choice."

Slowly, she rose to her feet, inwardly seething. "I have spent my whole life doing things for this family. Don't you dare think you can tell me otherwise." She met his gaze, her eyes narrowing further. "Now get out of my room. I have a trip to Alicante to make."

"I'm just trying to look out for you, even if you can't see it," Nathan said, although he did take some steps away, starting towards the doorway.

"I'm fine on my own," she said, following him with her gaze as she folded her arms. "The sooner you leave and return back to your Institute, the better."

He paused with his hand on the doorknob. "I had been planning on leaving at the end of the week, but perhaps I need to stay longer, considering everything going on."

She merely made an annoyed sound under her breath in response, not deigning his words with a reply. She waited until he left, before she finally leaned back against her desk, letting out a tired sigh.

It still did not seem real, and neither could she put into words why she was quite so affected. It was strange, this tight feeling in her chest. She did not form attachments, she reminded herself, and this was one of the reasons why.

She swallowed, thinking of one of the last things she had said to him. 'I know you can take care of yourself, so I won't warn you about keeping out of trouble.' It seemed she had been wrong – the threat was too great, even for him.

~~ Kellan ~~

Slowly opening his eyes at a soft sound, Kellan stared at the figure lying beside him in his bed, a little disbelieving. Surely he must still be dreaming? But he felt much too awake. "… Ethos?" he murmured quietly, so as to not wake him if he really was sleeping. Ethos didn't stir, his expression calm and peaceful as he slept. Kellan shifted so that he could see him better, unafraid to stare when the other boy was asleep. His usual perfectly kept beige hair was ruffled in his sleep, and Kellan swallowed, resisting the urge to reach out and fix it. His lashes were long against his ivory skin – how had he not noticed just how long they were before – and Kellan realised that neither of them were wearing a shirt, Ethos's bare shoulders just visible above the sheet. What exactly had happened?

He did not get long to think on the matter, as Ethos finally stirred, opening his eyes and meeting his sleepily. "Kellan?" he said, a question to his tone. "Can't you sleep?"

The sleepy lilt to his tone was almost too much for him to take. "I… guess not," he inhaled. "What did we…?"

"Shh," Ethos said, adjusting and pressing a finger gently to his lips. "There's no need for questions."

Tentatively, Kellan caught his hand to keep it there and kissed it gently. "I'm just glad you're here."

Ethos's lips curled up into a slight smile. "So am I."

Kellan released his hand, although he couldn't help himself, and he shifted closer, so there was barely a gap between them. "You are so beautiful when you sleep," he murmured. "In fact, you are all the time."

Ethos curled his arm around his neck, and that encouraged Kellan to lean forward and close the gap, kissing him softly and reverently. To his relief, Ethos returned the kiss, and Kellan felt his fingers sifting through his curls, the feeling pleasant and enough to give him butterflies.

His own fingers seemed to have a mind of their own, and he reached out to run his fingers along his chest, touching his warm bare skin. It was enough to make his heart beat faster, his fingers tingling. He knew that he wanted him.

Ethos seemed to react to his touch with a slight shiver, murmuring Kellan's name under his breath, and inhaling quickly. He was wide awake now, the tiredness gone from his eyes.

Kellan's mouth moved along the line of his jaw to his neck, pausing to whisper, "I love you, Ethos. More than I can bear, sometimes."

Ethos blushed, the rosy tint to his cheeks evident against his pale skin, which Kellan found endearing. "I am sorry to cause you such trouble."

Kellan paused, drawing his mouth back so he could meet his gaze, although his fingers continued to roam, grazing his skin. It was soft and perfect, with few scars to be found. Different, he thought, to his own skin. "You don't need to apologise. Ever."

Ethos gave a slight moan, settling his fingers at Kellan's waist. "Please don't stop."

"I can't stop," Kellan replied, watching him for a moment longer with a smile on the edge of his lips, before he leaned forward again, his eyes dark with desire. This time, his mouth took Ethos's with a hungry devotion, his hands clutching at him as if afraid he might disappear at any moment. "I want you." The words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them, and they tangled together as the kiss deepened.

All Kellan could think was that he was hot, and he had never felt this desperate before. It was a need that could not be sated. Not until Ethos was his.

But when he moved to clasp his arm, his fingers found nothing but air as he was drawn from his dream. His breaths came in jagged gasps, and he sat up quickly as he came to, staring at the empty bed beside him. Had he really just had such a heated dream? He still felt hot and sweaty, and he swore under his breath, still feeling strange.

Burying his head back into his pillow, he fought to push down the blazing embarrassment. He'd had such a dream… the night before his courting celebration. Nothing could better represent what he wished he could have, but he knew that he couldn't. Not because of his status or hierarchies or anything of that. Those were not the type of things that would stop him.

But simply because Ethos did not feel the same way.

Dear Connor,

The days here in New York have been constantly rainy and dreary lately. It is a little amusing, because it almost reminds me of my home in London. In any case, receiving your letter helped to brighten my day, as if the sun had finally peeked out from behind the clouds. It is nice to have someone who sends me a letter that I can actually reply to… but alas, that's a long story, actually.

I am curious as to where your task out of Alicante took you, but of course I know better than to ask. While it sounds unexciting or perhaps uninspired in Alicante, it is a little selfish of me to be glad you are not anywhere unknown or hard to get to. I would like to visit you there, and would also be delighted if you were to visit here. Perhaps we could both endeavour to visit each other? If you get the time to, of course. I'm sure your parents would appreciate the visit as well – even if they are not good at showing it. I'm also sure they are proud of you and what you have achieved, lately.

I have been good, mostly busy asking (or perhaps bugging and bribing) people to read over my story. I have booked in for a meeting with someone from the Clave next month to see whether I can get permission to have it published. So I will just have to see how that goes. In other news we had an Institute get-together for breakfast. Although it went mostly well with a couple of new faces, there was - no surprise - a little bit of drama. Mostly Savannah getting annoyed at something, although it's still a bit of a mystery. Anyway… I'm sorry, you probably don't want to hear all about the Institute's drama. Surely you are sick of it by now.

You should know that I do not see you as cynical, plain and disagreeable, but as much more. Of course, it can only be expected that the Scholomance might change you, but it does not change my thoughts on you. We were different people back then, but I can still see who you were then in you now. Also, I apologise for any arguments I may have caused in the past – I prefer to bring people together, rather than do the opposite…
I suppose a question I should ask in response to what you said is whether you want to see me as something more than a friend, or not. I guess I have become used to the fact lately that that is all people usually see me as.

Anyway, I should end this letter before I say any other silly things. I can tend to ramble, even in letters, I must admit. I am glad you did make the effort to write to me, even if it is not so natural for you. I cannot begin to describe how much I appreciate it.

I hope to see you soon,

Steff