HELLO EVERYONE!
I am so shocked I was able to write this chapter so quickly… *pats self on back* I think this is one of my favorite chapters to write thus far, in all honesty. I love Theo so much, so it was really fun to get to see things from his POV… Enjoy the chapter! :D
Disclaimer: I don't own the Mortal Instruments. Sorry. :)
FLASHBACK 3: THE ORPHANAGE
Thunder growled across the night sky, all but muted by the deafening roar of the rain.
Idris so rarely had storms, and the city seemed unprepared for it. Water was pooling between the uneven cobblestone, now, as black and shimmering as fresh oil smeared across the streets. Peals of lightning darted across the midnight clouds, hovering like electric claws in the sky, grasping toward the city of Alicante below. They lit the rain-soaked square to a dazzling, momentary brightness before plunging it once more into the moonless night, and he sighed at the pane of glass separating him from the awful weather.
He had been staring out of this window for hours – his view distorted by the endless curtain of rain pouring over the glass.
In the looming darkness, it had been too difficult to see the square clearly, but he had never allowed himself to look away for long… He couldn't shake the feeling that if he glanced away, if even for a minute, that he would miss seeing her.
And he had already lost too much, to ruin his last chance to find her.
"She's not coming back, you know," a voice cut in. "They never do."
Eight year old Mattheo Buonavento spun on the window-ledge, glaring at the source with unchildlike disdain. The other boy was a few years older, with short cropped blonde hair that spiked from his round, sneering face. Not for the first time, Theo felt his hope waver at the words, but he reigned it back with sheer force of will. After an arrogant snort, he squared his little shoulders and turned to the window again, trying to ignore the way the wall dug painfully into his back.
"You don't know my sister," he snapped, flicking his black hair from his forehead. "She'll be back. You'll see."
"I heard the headmistress talking," the boy drawled again. Even though Theo could no longer see him, he could sense that the other boy had crossed his beefy arms across his chest - and it made him want to kick him in the ankle. "Said she went after that werewolf alone," he leered. "No one comes back from that, you idiot. You're an orphan, just like the rest of us. Get used to it."
The hopelessness rose up a second time and he tried his best to shove it back down - but the emotion seemed almost as stubborn as he was.
Theo's eyes narrowed at the window - in the way he knew Jada's always did, when she was thinking. It was his last hope – his way of trying, in some miraculous way, to conjure even a fraction of his sister's natural cunning. But no ideas formed as he glared into the night, and he felt his stomach sink like an anchor.
Another crack of lightning skittered across the churning clouds, casting long shadows from the flower beds and ornate stone benches scattered across the cobblestone. But the light was enough to show him the square as clearly as he needed to see it. Far below, a figure that had not been visible before was scaling the vast semi-circle stairs to the orphanage's terrace, dripping from head to toe in the violent storm.
At first, he thought it could have been anybody, but there was something about the regal poise to the figure's head, the determined lilt to her gait, the curves of the chest and hips where her long black hair and coat plastered to her body - and Theo knew. He knew.
It had to be her.
Leaping to his feet, Theo bounded across the floor and swung through the doorway. He almost stumbled as he shuffled down the narrow staircase, ignoring the whiny objections from the long forgotten boy in the other room. The wooden steps groaned in protest as he shot down them, bounding two at a time, until he reached the first floor and careened to a stop.
He tried to catch his breath, but it was not easy. Even after growing up in the streets of Naples, Theo had always found the air in the Orphanage especially stifling. It was strangely thick - saturated with the smell of dust and old books and antique upholstery. The scent of something long forgotten and abandoned.
Much like its inhabitants, Theo thought with a pinch of sadness as he peeked around the doorway.
Jada was already inside the lofty foyer, staring down another shadowy figure in the expansive room with ferocious intensity. Rainwater streamed from her sopping trench coat, already puddled beneath the thick soles of her leather boots - but that wasn't what made Theo's body flinch in alarm.
Up close, Jada looked… different.
As his gaze travelled up her form, he saw that her normally bronzed skin was a few shades paler than usual. Dark, purplish circles had formed beneath her red-ringed eyes. Her normally piercing stare was glassy and out of focus… She didn't even stand the same. Her posture was slightly bowed as her right arm crossed her torso, cradling the side of her waist. Fresh blood seeped from her cracked knuckles, mingling with the rainwater where the droplets beaded on her ashen skin.
Theo had seen enough of his father's patients to know how ill she looked - to know better than to startle her - but the part of him that was her brother wanted to scream her name and launch himself in her arms.
Caught between the two options, his feet cemented him to the floor of the doorway, feeling oddly apprehensive at the idea of approaching her.
"– you can't be alive," a voice was saying, coming into focus. After a quick glance, Theo recognized the 'other figure' as the Headmaster, his skinny robed frame trembling as he took in the sight of Jada.
Not that Theo could blame him. His sister was eyeing the old man with a glare that rivaled the deadliness of the lightning flashing outside.
After a pause, the Headmaster shook his gleaming bald head at her, as if in horror. "They said you went after Italy's pack leader alone," he continued, voice quivering. "It isn't possible. You couldn't have survived that. No one could."
"The pack leader is now dead, no thanks to the Clave," Jada coolly replied. Even as ill as she looked, her voice was the same, confident purr – the faint, Italian accent still audible. The realization was an unspeakable relief. After noticing such a striking physical change, it was good to know there was some part of her that was still Jada - still the same older sister he remembered.
At the expression that flickered in the Headmaster's face, Jada added, "Save your breath. I did not come here to gloat…" Her eyes darted around the room, like an arrow, searching for its target. "Where is my brother, Mattheo? I know he was brought here."
"Not to worry, Miss Buonavento," came a second voice. An older woman, the Headmistress, ducked into view from behind the heavy welcome desk in the lobby – her long dress swaying at her ankles. She was smiling a little nervously, the color of her hair a perfect match to her kind grey eyes. "We had no idea that you had been found… Of course, you have every right see your brother –"
"She will do no such thing," the Headmaster snapped, gaining a terrifying glare from Jada. He had recovered from his initial shock, it seemed, and had not taken too kindly to his loss of composure. Sneering, he waved a dismissive hand in her direction. "Do you know who this woman is, Headmistress? The daughter of those Buonavento doctors. Nameless, idealistic trash. Coming in here, claiming to have killed Italy's pack leader as if –"
His sister's face had gotten a shade paler, though this time, Theo guessed it was not from sickness.
She lunged at the Headmaster with shocking ferocity, gripping the collar of his dark robes as she slammed his back into the ornate lobby-desk. The crack of the impact resounded on the high ceiling of the room, momentarily drowning the dull rumble of the storm. Theo jumped back in shock as he cowered into the doorframe.
He had seen Jada angry before, but never like this. Never angry enough to hurt somebody…
Far above their heads, an intricate painting of the Angel Raziel stared down at them from the ceiling, his expressionless face turned to them, as if in approval.
"Say that to me again," his sister snarled between gritted teeth. Theo caught a glimpse of the Headmaster through the screen of Jada's dripping, straggling hair. Pinned like a butterfly to a board, the man whimpered. Jada ruthlessly shook him. "Tell me my parents are trash!" she roared again, eyes shining with fury. "I dare you. SAY it."
The Headmistress, for some reason, carefully lingered where she was, her hands frozen at her sides. At any rate, she did not move to deter Jada in any way, and Theo silently wondered if this was the first time that the Headmaster had gotten himself into this kind of mess.
With a disdainful growl, Jada finally shoved the Headmaster free. He slumped bonelessly against the polished surface, clutching feebly at his chest. Expression softening, she turned to the Headmistress, as if to speak, but her eyes grazed over the door frame and she immediately stiffened to a halt.
Her attention instantly honed in on Theo as he lingered in the opening, cowering timidly against the chipped wood.
The rage and viciousness flooded from her eyes – replaced with an odd vulnerability that Theo had never seen from her before. In this wave of sudden tenderness, she had suddenly switched from wearing the blistering rage of their fire-tempered father to wearing the kind eyes of their saintly mother.
"Theo?" Jada whispered, her lips trembling.
Hearing his name in her mouth was like a key turning in a lock - opening the floodgate of all the grief that he had been too terrified to feel for the last two days. Suddenly, his legs found the energy to move.
"Jada!" Theo yelped, launching himself at her. Helplessly, his arms circled around her hips, his face smothering the side of her leg. She was freezing and wet, like a statue of ice, but he couldn't bear to loosen his grip on her.
To his surprise, at first, it was almost as if she had not wanted to hold him.
Jada's body winced away from him, recoiling as if in pain, but moments later her arms had enveloped around his torso and were lifting him off his feet. With a harsh gasp, she raised him to her hip, letting Theo wrap his limbs around her neck and waist, as he had when they were much younger. But her grip now was relentless, a vice that clinged far stronger than he would have expected, given how sick she looked.
"They said you wouldn't come," he sobbed, burying his face in her hair. Icy wetness was seeping through his clothes in every place Jada touched him, sending shivers down his spine – but she smelt like mom did. Like flowery, jasmine perfume.
His tiny arms only clutched her neck tighter, ignoring the cold.
Thinly, Jada chuckled.
She raised her hand to the back of his head, pressing his face to the side of her neck. And as his cheek rested against her, Theo noticed that her skin was as feverishly hot - like a smoldering furnace beneath the layer of icy rain. It raised a tinge of alarm like goosebumps skittering down his spine.
"And you believed them?" she chided, sounding much like the older sister that had always forced him to finish his homework and do his chores.
Gently, Jada pulled away, drawing backward just enough to stare into his face. He shivered when he saw the bright ferocity sparking in her eyes - the same passionate conviction that their father had always radiated. "I will always come for you," she vowed, studying his eyes intensely. "I will be there every time you need me. Never doubt it."
Suddenly, as sharp gasp broke the thick silence of the room, and Theo anxiously spun around.
The Headmaster was looking at them both in horror, from where he still slumped against the desk. Even the Headmistress, as kind as she had been, looked suddenly shaken by some invisible threat. Her frail hand was covering her mouth now, unable to hide the pity in her eyes.
The Headmaster pointed a shaking finger at Jada, looking oddly pale in the dim light. "You…Your waist," he stammered, "That's a wolf bite, isn't it?"
Her waist?
Curiously, Theo looked down at Jada's opened black trenchcoat. He had not noticed it before, but thick strips of bandaging were wrapping her from the chest down to the waistband of her dark pants. On one side of her waist - just as the Headmaster had said - a nasty, bloody line had seeped through the white fabric, inking the space by his leg in a crescent-moon shape.
Even though he knew it should have been startling, all Theo could feel at the sight was… confused.
He had seen bandaged wounds before. His parents had nursed many of their patients directly from their family home. Seeing wounds like this had never bothered him before... But seeing the bandages on Jada - on his sister - made a wretch of wrongness twist his chest.
Theo's round eyes instantly snapped to her face, searching for an explanation.
"Jada," he said carefully. "You're injured…?"
The Headmaster heaved a wheezy scoff.
"So you did not come out unscathed after all," he sneered. "Is that a parting gift from the pack leader, perhaps?"
The oddest flicker of emotion crossed Jada's features, but it was there and gone too quickly for Theo to decipher it.
"Come, amore," was all she said. "It's time to go home."
The confusion was overwhelming. "But, Jada -" Theo objected.
"Miss Buonavento, please reconsider!" the Headmistress exclaimed. "Your injuries - You need medical attention."
Setting her jaw, his sister moved - as if she had not heard any of them. After shifting Theo in her arms, Jada turned and crossed the foyer to the lofty double doors, carrying him through the half-open entrance into the rain.
But when they passed through the Orphanage's front door, their situation did not seem to improve.
A group of a dozen heavily armed men in full fighting gear were waiting in the storm, circling the entrance of the terrace like evenly spaced guard dogs. A tall, dark carriage loomed behind them like a prop from a morbid fairy tale, emanating blueish witchlight from a few glowing lanterns hanging at its rear.
One bulking, bearded man stiffened at their appearance, his eyes darting to a figure outside of his team's circular formation. In the odd light, his black gear gleamed with a strange, greenish sheen, like the shell of a beetle. The hilt of a seraph blade hovered at his hip, glinting dangerously in the dim light.
"Is this who we came to collect, Councilman Aldertree?" he called through the downpour.
Like a tiny, ugly puppy, the Clave official bounded into view from behind the carriage - and Theo frowned.
He did not look much like a Council member, Theo thought – at least, not any Council member he would have ever imagined. He was very small, compared to the other soldiers – his hands like pudgy, black-gloved paws, where they clutched a wide brimmed umbrella. He scanned Theo and his sister with cold, glittering eyes.
"What an interesting development, gentleman," he mused in a shrill voice. "We were under orders to collect only one Buonavento child tonight - now it seems you have found two… Though I'll admit," he added with greasy smoothness, his eyes running over Jada. "I did not expect the second one to be quite so lovely."
If it was meant to be a compliment, Theo couldn't say that it worked. Jada's nose wrinkled in a leer as she glared down the Councilman, but it didn't seem to bother him.
"You must be the older sister... 'Jada', isn't it?" Aldertree continued in the same sunny tone. "I'm afraid the Clave was quite convinced you were dead - though, with that injury, you look not much better off." He eyed her bleeding waist with something close to glee - and it made Theo's stomach flip anxiously. "That looks like a werewolf bite, Miss Buonavento… I'm afraid that means we are going to have to take you to the Gard for observation."
Jada growled.
Again, she opened her mouth, as if to speak, but another sound cut her off.
A horse bolted into the square, behind the line of soldiers - making everyone, even the soldiers, instinctively jump back at the intrusion. Steel horseshoes clattered against the wet cobblestone like gunshots, cutting through the courtyard to the Orphanage's entrance.
The beast was all black, so much so that it looked, through the blur of the rain, that it did not even have a rider. But not losing speed, a dark figure jumped off its back, a shadow landing in a crouch on the cobblestone. Hastily, the man straightened to their full, towering height, threw back the cowl of his cloak – and Theo's jaw instantly dropped.
A familiar pair of eyes had locked on to his own, their irises as dark as emeralds.
Argyle.
Wind was raging around him now, making his robes fly around his slender body like the sail of an ocean-sprayed boat. It was not until he put up his arm, as if to block his eyes from the wind, that Theo saw how drenched he really was. Water was plastering his black hair over his forehead, streaming down his face like tears, droplets trickling from the tip his narrow nose and chin.
"Jada," Argyle called, through the incessant storm. "Enough of this. Put Theo down."
Her body stiffened. Theo noticed, as she held him, that her jaw was now tight and unrelenting. Fury had flooded back to her eyes, sparking like struck flint.
"She hardly looks like the type of woman that can be reasoned with," Aldertree considered, regarding the scene with a tilt of his head. Rain spilled from the edges of his wide umbrella, a curtain that distorted his features. "Argyle, my boy, even you must admit that –"
But Argyle, however, did not look inclined to admit anything.
He shouldered through the circle of armed soldiers, his green eyes wide under his worried brows.
"Please, Jada. We can work this out." Argyle raised a pale, beseeching hand as he slowly advanced toward her, as wary as if he was approaching a wild bear. Theo saw an old, twisting rune-scar flashing on his soaked palm, gleaming silver in the blueish witchlight. "You can't see now. But this isn't the end. Don't throw your life away, without even knowing what will come next."
Throw her life away…?
Thunder cracked, like the sound of a giant's whip, splitting the black sky.
Theo looked up into his sister's face, only to see her staring back at him with a grave frown. Despite the droplets ricocheting off her rain-soaked skin, she looked eerily calm. Like Father always did, when he was thinking. Her face was an expressionless mask – muting emotion from everywhere but her narrowed brown eyes… As if the ideas were trying to break through, churning and forming behind the wild flicker in her irises.
"I never said I was throwing my life away," she answered, still staring into Theo's face. "I'm only keeping the Clave from taking whatever is left of it."
Argyle stopped dead, suddenly tense. "Jada… What in the world are you talking about?"
His sister turned her face from him, rainwater running freely down her neck as she locked eyes with Argyle. "I came here for a reason. I want to declare my will."
"Your will?" Argyle sputtered. "Like your last wishes?"
Jada didn't look phased. "The Law states that an adult Shadowhunter may make their final wishes verbally, if they are not already made in writing…" she continued, perplexing them all. "Providing that a Clave official and witnesses are available, to receive the final verbal testament. I never had a written will. So I wanted to declare it now."
Her eyes darted to Aldertree, whose pudgy face was glittering with fascination.
Final wishes? Theo wondered.
Argyle blinked down at her. "I don't understand - why now?"
Theo watched as his sister firmly set her jaw.
"I know you don't want to believe it, but the Clave planned for this, Argyle," explained Jada in a low voice. "They told me Theo was dead. They knew I would go after the pack leader, if I thought I had no family left to live for. They wanted me to die in the process."
Argyle looked tired. "That makes no sense, Jada," he sighed, shaking his head. "Why would the Clave do that?"
"Because they wanted something," she explained carefully. "Something my parents refused to give to them, when they were still alive. And when they died, they finally saw their chance to take it." Sternly, she set her jaw. "I realized as soon as you told me Theo was alive. They planned for this all along."
Disbelief colored Argyle's voice. "Your parents worked for the Clave. Why would they hide anything from them?"
"Because their latest research was far too dangerous to entrust with anyone, much less the Clave," Jada clarified. "And the Clave would do whatever they could to get their hands on it."
"But Jada, the Clave -"
"The Clave," she sneered, saturating the word in malice. "Even as incompetent and broken as they are, they must have known by now that I have murdered Italy's head pack leader. And they knew that without my final will or testament, all of my family's assets would be absorbed by the Clave – including all of my parents' research and my spoils from that pack leader's death."
Aldertree glowered at that – making a patchy flush rise to his heavy cheeks. "That's preposterous," he sputtered unevenly. "The Clave would never do such a thing. Not to our own kind. We didn't even know you were alive, until a few moments ago."
"He's right, Jada." Argyle agreed. "It isn't possible."
"Isn't it?" Jada wondered coldly. "Then you won't mind explaining what you were doing at the Orphanage with these many soldiers, Councilman Aldertree. If 'collecting' my brother was really all you intended to do, I am curious why you brought a dozen fully armed men." Jada narrowed her eyes at the councilman. "Unless of course… you were planning to get rid of the last person who had any claim to my parent's research... You came to collect my little brother… Isn't that right, Councilman Aldertree?"
The Councilman's face turned a violent shade of red.
The soldiers turned to gape back at the short man, their faith in their leader obviously wavering. Argyle stood as still as a statue as his face hardened, but, as cool as ever, Jada smiled.
"That's what I thought." she confirmed darkly. "Then, with the Angel as my witness," declared Jada, "I hereby will, upon my death, the transfer all my assets, wealth, and inheritance to my little brother, Mattheo Buonavento, and appoint Argyle Silverspear as his temporary legal guardian, in the absence of his godparents -"
"Jada," Argyle breathed, cutting her off. Somehow, he must have found the ability to walk again. In a few short strides, he was standing in front of them both, regarding Jada's face as rain spilled down his own. This time, even Theo could not see whether the water was rain or true tears – there was pain in Argyle's shadowed eyes, twisting there like a thorn. "You came here to ensure your brother was safe... Even knowing what the Clave may do to you?"
For one last time, Jada looked down at Theo with solemn eyes. Her hair was flattened to the sides of her face, like shimmering back sheets, spilling over her shoulders. Water droplets had beaded like crystals on her long eyelashes, at the bottom of her full lips. Theo saw a single droplet fall, as his sister's mouth twisted to a frown. "Listen well, Argyle. I need you to contact my father's parabatai, Giuseppe. He's Theo's godfather. He may take some time to get here from Italy, but he will come as soon as you call. I need you to take care of Theo until then."
Reaching behind her neck, Jada pried Theo's hands away – jerking his grip away with a ruthless amount of force – and Theo suddenly realized that she really meant to do it. Really meant to give herself up to the Clave.
He tried to grasp on all the tighter, his legs tensing around her waist.
"No!" Theo screamed. "No, Jada, you can't do this! I don't want to leave you!"
For a fraction of a second, his sister's body hesitated, but it was over too soon.
With one last tug, Jada detached his limbs from her body. Theo felt a single moment of weightless motion, a blur of speed, then found himself shoved brusquely against Argyle's hard chest. Arms came to cage him, as Jada's had, but these ones were colder than hers had been, not nearly as relentless…
It was not a surprise to him, when he glanced up and saw Argyle pale jaw, floating just above his head - like a ghost hovering against the churning storm clouds. Although he loved Argyle like a brother, Theo couldn't let Jada follow through with her plan. He kicked and thrashed against Argyle's grip, but to no avail.
When he finally caught a glimpse of Jada, her head was tilted back, gazing up into Argyle's eyes with a terrible, blazing confidence.
"If you let anything happen to that boy," she growled, her eyes grave, "I swear by the Angel that I will never forgive you."
With a sound of disbelief, Argyle smirked at her – his eyes glittering the way Father's always had, whenever he had looked at Mother. But something was not quite right, Theo saw. There was something in the strain of his jaw and lips, something that made him think that it must have taken some effort, for Argyle to smile at Jada that way.
"Jada!" Theo cried again. He tried to shove his hands against Argyle's chest, to squirm away, to get to his sister – but the arms circling him were as unrelenting as handcuffs. "Don't do this!" he screamed at her. "Don't leave me again!"
To his surprise, through the downpour of rain, Jada tossed her head back and laughed.
"Haven't you learned anything, mimmo?" she wondered, smiling at him. There was an odd, sacrificial light firing in her eyes as she paced a few strides backward, away from them. "You won't get rid of me that easily."
"Jada!" he called again, but this time, it was too late.
She raised her hands in surrender – and the circle of soldiers instantly lunged toward her.
Faster than he had ever seen him move, Argyle pushed Theo's head down, blocking his line of sight with his black-robed shoulder.
With a shriek, Theo writhed against Argyle's clutches, striking out at him with a new wave of urgency. But Argyle, ever-patient Argyle, kept his gentle hand on Theo's head, guiding his cheek to rest on his collarbone. There was a moment of hesitation, then, slowly, Argyle turned away from Jada, his boots splashing up the dirty rain puddles that littered the cobblestone. But it couldn't be over that easily. Theo wouldn't let it.
In a final act of rebellion, Theo squirmed to look over Argyle's shoulder, just to catch a glimpse...
The last thing Theo saw as Argyle carried him away was his sister, with several reluctant-looking soldiers holding her hands behind her back. Despite everything, she looked… oddly confident. It was if she had forgotten her wounds, forgotten the icy shards of the rain. Seeing her then, Theo had to admit that he was proud to see her standing strong, even as the entire world seemed to rally against her.
Spite was glittering in her eyes as she grinned triumphantly at the glowering Councilman Aldertree - which seemed to only make him more furious.
With a single, grunted word from the Clave official, the soldiers spun Jada by her shoulders, marching her, unkindly, in the direction of the Guard.
NOOOOOO! (Cries internally.)
Did you like it!? In case you were wondering, This Aldertree is the same one that becomes the Inquisitor in City of Glass (although this story is set a number of years before City of Glass, so he is only a council member, at the moment). He'll play a bit of a role through The Hunt and The Morgenstern Girl, so stay tuned for more! ;)
I will see all you lovely people in the next chapter!
Love, Fishie.