[ She valiantly tries to wriggle out of his grip like a child who's been caught playing in mud. ]
I know. [ She's trying not to think of Jace and how he'd told her to come with him only for her to run off on her own mission, trying too hard to get everything she'd need for here. She feels almost as though she's picked the CDC over her friends and that makes her heart go too tight. ]
The city was on fire. I haven't changed yet. I'm fine.
[ She crosses her arms over her chest and it makes the pocket of her coat stick out at an angle. Clary sighs quietly and lifts the offending object out of her pocket. It's a book, and old at that. She stares at it for a moment before she throws it down on a nearby bunk. ]
That was supposed to save my mom's life. [ Her mouth twists bitterly and her words come like bullets. ] It's gonna do a lot of fucking good here, right? [ Magnus. If only she'd gotten to Magnus. If only he'd been there. ]
[ She says no, and then starts talking anyway. He lifts his eyebrows as she throws down the old book. He doesn't touch it.
Alina has a book too, the Istorii Sankt'ya. The first time Sturmhond had given it to her, she'd been carefully possessive, and tried not to let him see. Which had been an absolute failure, because she'd worn her heart on her sleeve back then, and to a certain extent she still does. At least to his eyes.
Clary is just like that. He doesn't touch the book. ]
You were bringing it to someone. [ It wouldn't take a genius to guess. He leans back against his bunk, regarding her carefully. ] How would a book save her, Clary, what's in it?
A spell. [ A small part of her wants to cry about it, wants to ball her fists and throw a tantrum and cry the way children do when they're wronged. But she feels hollowed out and incapable of it. Her chest aches but there's nothing else beyond that.
With a heavy sigh, Clary ends up scrubbing a hand through her hair, untangling the soot streaked curls of it. ] It had a spell in it. I was going to get it to the person who could use it. Everything just happened so fast. I didn't have time.
[ She hasn't even spoken to anyone here of what's waiting for her back home. Sturmhond bits and pieces, but nothing solid. Nothing about her mom laying in a hospital bed waiting for Clary to come and bring her back. She wonders if he thinks she's insane. ] Sorry. [ Looking up at him. ] It doesn't matter now.
[ Now that she's explained, he does move to lift the book. He does so carefully, turning it over in his hands, and then opening it.
Of course, none of it makes sense to him. It's not written in a language he can read.
He looks up at her. ]
Of course it matters. She's your mother.
[ Families always matter. He'd moved heaven and earth to help his own, after all. He knows how important that is.
But in many ways, this is actually news to him. He hadn't realised she was going home to something so urgent as this. ]
It matters a great deal. You shouldn't leave this lying around. [ He holds the book back out to her. ] You ought to keep it safe, and on you, so that you'll have it when you have a chance to return with it. You don't know when that might be, after all.
[ She ends up hugging the book to her chest in earnestness, her chin dipped low as she glances at the edges of it. Part of her keeps playing the moments she had in Idris over and over again. If only she'd given it to Jace, if only she hadn't thought it better that she had it on her. But she hadn't trusted him to do the right thing by Jocelyn, he'd still not come around to the fact that she was his mother and Clary wasn't sure he ever would. Here was the boy who should be her brother - part of the family - and she hadn't believed he'd help her. ]
Do you remember when you asked me if it was a struggle to remember her smile? [ Looking up, her mouth twisted into something sad. ] It's not just the CDC that's keeping her from me. I told you about Valentine. My mom was hiding from him. She took this potion. I don't know what it did to her. I don't know what it was. Nobody does. But it made her sleep. It just ... made her go away.
[ She sighs and it's like an ache in her chest. She's been ignoring it since she came here but the wound's still open and gaping. ] She had this whole other life that I never knew about and it's like ... it's like not being able to add up the person I knew to every story I've heard since Jace found me. I've been thinking about this stupid book for weeks, but the cure - that seems like forever. And now it's here and not there and I've failed her.
[ That’s more than he was expecting. He hadn’t pushed her, though. He’d just let her talk, and she’d come out with this, so maybe she had needed to say it. At any rate it makes a line appear between his brows. He comes over to her, sitting beside her, and taking her hands without even thinking about it. ]
Clary, look at me. You have not failed her. You’re going to keep it secret, and safe, and when you return home you will use it to save your mother.
[ He says that gently and firmly, like it’s a fact and not just a hope. Sturmhond is a realist. He knows there’s a very real possibility that Clary won’t be able to do what she wants, that it might be too late or that there could be other obstacles in her way that she doesn’t even know about yet. But she’s here. She can’t address those problems yet, and thus she needs to keep herself focused on what she can change. Not on what she can’t. It’s a problem he knows very well. Hope is not a meaningless thing. People need it to keep themselves going. Hope is not worth trusting, but it’s certainly worth using. Especially as a motivator. ]
If her condition is due to a drug she took, there will be an antidote. It seems like magic, but it’s not. The Grisha of my world, they don’t call their power magic, because there are rules and dependencies attached to it. They call it the Small Science. That’s what this is. What took her away can bring her back again.
When it does, then you can ask her your questions. Including why she hid this life from you. Sometimes, Clary, a lie tastes better, and goes down easier, than the truth.
[ He says sometimes. But it’s always, really, at least in his experience. The truth is always that much harder to bear. ]
[ She glances down at their hands and tries not to let the tears gathering in her eyes slip past her lashes. ]
Small Science? [ Her mouth twitches. ] I like that. Maybe I should take that to the Clave. They hate having people call what we can do magic. [ It's an aside to the real problem but she's never been very good at dealing with real problems. ]
She hid it to hide me. [ It comes out simply and honest. She'd wanted to hide the cup of course. But why not go back to the Shadowhunter world after? The cup was just one of the things she had. A bargaining chip against Valentine. ] But it just didn't do any good. He found her. He found the cup. He found me. When I went back the whole city was on fire. He'd gotten in and I still don't know how. I couldn't even do anything about it. I just went and took what I could find. I knew I'd need it here.
[ Sturmhond nods. He knows how she feels, strangely enough. He had
done much the same thing - abandoned his palace, run for a safe place, and
then grabbed together what he could and hoped no one who mattered noticed
him sneaking off in the middle of his own war effort. ]
We do what we can. Your mind has to be here, focused on here.
Whatever's happening at home, it will wait. You understand what they've
done for us, don't you?
[ He looks intently at her. ]
We know beyond any doubt that they can send us back, at once, to the very
moment they took us from. Don't worry about what's happening. You'll return
to it, if all goes well here. That's the hope you have to believe in.
[ The hope he has to believe in, too. Even if it's difficult, and
seems too good to be true. He has no choice. ]
[ She sucks in a small breath, her eyes lifting to his and holding his gaze for a moment. ] I didn't think about that. I didn't --.
[ Her focus had been on what she'd done, how she'd abandoned all of her friends, her family, in favour of getting weapons and getting anything that could give her the upper hand here. She'd felt like she'd wronged them all, that she was a villain for simply choosing herself over them.
Valentine had reared his ghostly head in her thoughts and she'd been blind to everything else. ] It was the exact minute. It was right when they took me. I didn't even realise, I --. [ And she starts to laugh, her hands coming up to press each side of his face. Her expression has split into a wide, beaming grin. ] I can go back. I can go right back and I can get the book to Magnus. [ Inhaling. ] I can save her.
[ Well, that had the desired effect. He smiles at her and one of his
eyebrows twitches up. ]
Yes you can. So keep that book on you and don’t lose it. The CDC are
capable of doing things that seem impossible.
But of course, when people say that, they usually mean improbable. You
haven’t lost, and your friends won’t even notice the delay. Try not to
worry. I know that’s not as easy as it sounds.
[ Understatement. But it’s the only way to keep going here, and he
hadn’t lied when he said this is where her focus needs to be. ]
[ Clary makes a noise that is probably a little too excited for the situation but considering the amount of emotional up and downing she just did it might be forgiven. She hugs him immediately, throwing her arms around his neck without little care for whether or not he might be a hugger, too caught up in suddenly realising there's something, that there might be a chance after all of this, to really think. ]
How come you're the voice of reason? [ It's muffled by her own arm. ] Did I come back to Topsy-Turvy land or something?
[ Rolling her eyes and pulling a face feels like the most natural thing in the world to do, ducking away with a faux glare to try and fix the damage he's done. ]
You know what I didn't miss in the five hours of madness? Your ego. [ That's a lie, she totally did. ]
Did everything go okay for you? [ She shifts to look at him properly, feeling guilty for her emotional breakdown. ]
[ His shoulders move slightly, not quite a shrug. ]
About as well as I could have hoped.
[ Which isn’t true, but he can’t tell her why, so it’s better not to
tell her what. Besides which, after all she’s just admitted to being
through, the last thing she needs is his worries stacked on top of her own.
Instead, he switches the mood. ]
Actually, that reminds me. There was a reason why I wanted to see
you. I brought something for you. Here.
[ He slides off the bunk and goes to the pile by his locker. This is
what he’d managed to bring back, and he hasn’t had time to organise it yet.
He searches through it, and finally withdraws a sword – a rather ornate
one, rapier-style, and gleaming with the telltale shine of Grisha steel.
Telltale to him, anyway. It probably just looks bright to her. It has a
similarity to the one he’s now wearing at his waist, which has also been
newly brought from home. He holds out the sword to Clary. ]
Now, I realise we’ve only worked on guns thus far, but we did talk
about expanding your training…
[ She looks at him like he's insane for a moment. Because the sword is beautiful and she basically only knows which side to not hold with her own hand. But he's passing it to her and she takes it with a huff of a breath. It's actually prettier than anything she's stolen ( and she really hopes the Iron Sisters can't read minds or do so over dimensions and space because that would suck ). She doesn't know anything about weight or how to test it. She just knows it looks good. ]
It's nice. [ IS SHE INSULTING HIM BY NOT BEING MORE WORDLY ABOUT IT. CHRIST. ] I mean -- I'm no sword expert but this is --? Really cool.
[ With a vague grin. ] You want me to learn how to sword fight?
[ He's smiling now. He could have taught her with his old CDC sword. In fact, he probably will teach her with that, but that's not what he wants her to use. Ordinary steal is nothing compared to what the Materialki can create. He wants her using Grisha steel.
He wants her using the best. ]
I want you to learn how to swordfight.
I already know you're going to tell me it's useless when you have a gun. It's not; I've never found that. Guns aren't ideal weapons for every fight. It helps to be versatile, and I want you to have the option.
Not to mention that I think you'll need it, for Valentine. You said you'd need hand to hand for that.
Actually --. [ She wraps her hand around the handle without speaking any further, silent for a few seconds as she tries to sort out her words. The sword feels nothing like the gun and she knows that it sounds stupid when she thinks about it that way. But the way it makes her feel is different. When she grips it, it feels natural.
She doesn't tell him about the one hidden in her locker now. The one with stars along the blade and the sharp edges that belong to the Morgenstern family. She doesn't want to explain how it called to her in the shop she stole it from and how upon realising whose it was, she felt sick. Because she never wants to think of herself as his, as a Morgenstern. So instead she focuses on this blade and on how Sturmhond's been so good to her and here he is giving her another opportunity to better herself. ]
It feels right.
[ She looks up at him, a hesitant smile on her face as she does so. ] Valentine prefers them.
[ An inhale. ] When I kill him, it should be with a sword. [ Because she will. She wants to. He has done nothing but hurt everyone she loves and while she doesn't want to be a murderer, Valentine is less than a person. He is the figure that took her mother and poisoned babies in the womb. He's evil. ]
[ Sturmhond nods, thoughtful. The truth is, he can appreciate an enemy who prefers a sword. There's something more real about it, more visceral. Guns bring with them a certain detachment, and from one point of view, that's a good thing. Death is never easy.
But he doesn't believe that death should be easy. Someone who kills ought to take responsibility for what they do, and when the sword is in your hand and you feel the weight of it as it enters another person, it forces you to do that. It holds you to account. ]
Well then. That's the answer.
I'm an excellent shot, Clary, but I'm better with a sword. It's always what I preferred. Let me teach you, and I'll make you lethal.
Of course I will. [ She lets her fingers brush against the steel of the sword, her attention on it and it alone. It feels good to have something like that in her hands.
But then she looks at him. ] I didn't get you anything. I mean you can have my super epic whip if you want? You'd look like a total scene kid wielding it though.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ All that she has of Idris is this, the burning smell that's following her wherever she goes. ]
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Don't mind him just grabbing her hand, lifting it to check out the soot all over her and making sure she's not still charring. ]
You walked into a fire?
Five hours, Clary. I don't think there was a need to burn everything down around you.
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I know. [ She's trying not to think of Jace and how he'd told her to come with him only for her to run off on her own mission, trying too hard to get everything she'd need for here. She feels almost as though she's picked the CDC over her friends and that makes her heart go too tight. ]
The city was on fire. I haven't changed yet. I'm fine.
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He steps back, leaning against the edge of his bunk. ]
Do you want to talk about it?
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[ She crosses her arms over her chest and it makes the pocket of her coat stick out at an angle. Clary sighs quietly and lifts the offending object out of her pocket. It's a book, and old at that. She stares at it for a moment before she throws it down on a nearby bunk. ]
That was supposed to save my mom's life. [ Her mouth twists bitterly and her words come like bullets. ] It's gonna do a lot of fucking good here, right? [ Magnus. If only she'd gotten to Magnus. If only he'd been there. ]
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Alina has a book too, the Istorii Sankt'ya. The first time Sturmhond had given it to her, she'd been carefully possessive, and tried not to let him see. Which had been an absolute failure, because she'd worn her heart on her sleeve back then, and to a certain extent she still does. At least to his eyes.
Clary is just like that. He doesn't touch the book. ]
You were bringing it to someone. [ It wouldn't take a genius to guess. He leans back against his bunk, regarding her carefully. ] How would a book save her, Clary, what's in it?
A rune?
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With a heavy sigh, Clary ends up scrubbing a hand through her hair, untangling the soot streaked curls of it. ] It had a spell in it. I was going to get it to the person who could use it. Everything just happened so fast. I didn't have time.
[ She hasn't even spoken to anyone here of what's waiting for her back home. Sturmhond bits and pieces, but nothing solid. Nothing about her mom laying in a hospital bed waiting for Clary to come and bring her back. She wonders if he thinks she's insane. ] Sorry. [ Looking up at him. ] It doesn't matter now.
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Of course, none of it makes sense to him. It's not written in a language he can read.
He looks up at her. ]
Of course it matters. She's your mother.
[ Families always matter. He'd moved heaven and earth to help his own, after all. He knows how important that is.
But in many ways, this is actually news to him. He hadn't realised she was going home to something so urgent as this. ]
It matters a great deal. You shouldn't leave this lying around. [ He holds the book back out to her. ] You ought to keep it safe, and on you, so that you'll have it when you have a chance to return with it. You don't know when that might be, after all.
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Do you remember when you asked me if it was a struggle to remember her smile? [ Looking up, her mouth twisted into something sad. ] It's not just the CDC that's keeping her from me. I told you about Valentine. My mom was hiding from him. She took this potion. I don't know what it did to her. I don't know what it was. Nobody does. But it made her sleep. It just ... made her go away.
[ She sighs and it's like an ache in her chest. She's been ignoring it since she came here but the wound's still open and gaping. ] She had this whole other life that I never knew about and it's like ... it's like not being able to add up the person I knew to every story I've heard since Jace found me. I've been thinking about this stupid book for weeks, but the cure - that seems like forever. And now it's here and not there and I've failed her.
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Clary, look at me. You have not failed her. You’re going to keep it secret, and safe, and when you return home you will use it to save your mother.
[ He says that gently and firmly, like it’s a fact and not just a hope. Sturmhond is a realist. He knows there’s a very real possibility that Clary won’t be able to do what she wants, that it might be too late or that there could be other obstacles in her way that she doesn’t even know about yet. But she’s here. She can’t address those problems yet, and thus she needs to keep herself focused on what she can change. Not on what she can’t. It’s a problem he knows very well. Hope is not a meaningless thing. People need it to keep themselves going. Hope is not worth trusting, but it’s certainly worth using. Especially as a motivator. ]
If her condition is due to a drug she took, there will be an antidote. It seems like magic, but it’s not. The Grisha of my world, they don’t call their power magic, because there are rules and dependencies attached to it. They call it the Small Science. That’s what this is. What took her away can bring her back again.
When it does, then you can ask her your questions. Including why she hid this life from you. Sometimes, Clary, a lie tastes better, and goes down easier, than the truth.
[ He says sometimes. But it’s always, really, at least in his experience. The truth is always that much harder to bear. ]
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Small Science? [ Her mouth twitches. ] I like that. Maybe I should take that to the Clave. They hate having people call what we can do magic. [ It's an aside to the real problem but she's never been very good at dealing with real problems. ]
She hid it to hide me. [ It comes out simply and honest. She'd wanted to hide the cup of course. But why not go back to the Shadowhunter world after? The cup was just one of the things she had. A bargaining chip against Valentine. ] But it just didn't do any good. He found her. He found the cup. He found me. When I went back the whole city was on fire. He'd gotten in and I still don't know how. I couldn't even do anything about it. I just went and took what I could find. I knew I'd need it here.
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[ Sturmhond nods. He knows how she feels, strangely enough. He had done much the same thing - abandoned his palace, run for a safe place, and then grabbed together what he could and hoped no one who mattered noticed him sneaking off in the middle of his own war effort. ]
We do what we can. Your mind has to be here, focused on here.
Whatever's happening at home, it will wait. You understand what they've done for us, don't you?
[ He looks intently at her. ]
We know beyond any doubt that they can send us back, at once, to the very moment they took us from. Don't worry about what's happening. You'll return to it, if all goes well here. That's the hope you have to believe in.
[ The hope he has to believe in, too. Even if it's difficult, and seems too good to be true. He has no choice. ]
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[ Her focus had been on what she'd done, how she'd abandoned all of her friends, her family, in favour of getting weapons and getting anything that could give her the upper hand here. She'd felt like she'd wronged them all, that she was a villain for simply choosing herself over them.
Valentine had reared his ghostly head in her thoughts and she'd been blind to everything else. ] It was the exact minute. It was right when they took me. I didn't even realise, I --. [ And she starts to laugh, her hands coming up to press each side of his face. Her expression has split into a wide, beaming grin. ] I can go back. I can go right back and I can get the book to Magnus. [ Inhaling. ] I can save her.
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[ Well, that had the desired effect. He smiles at her and one of his eyebrows twitches up. ]
Yes you can. So keep that book on you and don’t lose it. The CDC are capable of doing things that seem impossible.
But of course, when people say that, they usually mean improbable. You haven’t lost, and your friends won’t even notice the delay. Try not to worry. I know that’s not as easy as it sounds.
[ Understatement. But it’s the only way to keep going here, and he hadn’t lied when he said this is where her focus needs to be. ]
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How come you're the voice of reason? [ It's muffled by her own arm. ] Did I come back to Topsy-Turvy land or something?
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He laughs, drawing back from her only to see her face. ]
It's quite simple. I'm painfully intelligent, and clearly you needed that in your life.
[ He gives her hair a little ruffle, before smiling. ]
You'll be back in time to help your mother. You just have to make sure you get there, first.
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You know what I didn't miss in the five hours of madness? Your ego. [ That's a lie, she totally did. ]
Did everything go okay for you? [ She shifts to look at him properly, feeling guilty for her emotional breakdown. ]
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[ His shoulders move slightly, not quite a shrug. ]
About as well as I could have hoped.
[ Which isn’t true, but he can’t tell her why, so it’s better not to tell her what. Besides which, after all she’s just admitted to being through, the last thing she needs is his worries stacked on top of her own. Instead, he switches the mood. ]
Actually, that reminds me. There was a reason why I wanted to see you. I brought something for you. Here.
[ He slides off the bunk and goes to the pile by his locker. This is what he’d managed to bring back, and he hasn’t had time to organise it yet. He searches through it, and finally withdraws a sword – a rather ornate one, rapier-style, and gleaming with the telltale shine of Grisha steel. Telltale to him, anyway. It probably just looks bright to her. It has a similarity to the one he’s now wearing at his waist, which has also been newly brought from home. He holds out the sword to Clary. ]
Now, I realise we’ve only worked on guns thus far, but we did talk about expanding your training…
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It's nice. [ IS SHE INSULTING HIM BY NOT BEING MORE WORDLY ABOUT IT. CHRIST. ] I mean -- I'm no sword expert but this is --? Really cool.
[ With a vague grin. ] You want me to learn how to sword fight?
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He wants her using the best. ]
I want you to learn how to swordfight.
I already know you're going to tell me it's useless when you have a gun. It's not; I've never found that. Guns aren't ideal weapons for every fight. It helps to be versatile, and I want you to have the option.
Not to mention that I think you'll need it, for Valentine. You said you'd need hand to hand for that.
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She doesn't tell him about the one hidden in her locker now. The one with stars along the blade and the sharp edges that belong to the Morgenstern family. She doesn't want to explain how it called to her in the shop she stole it from and how upon realising whose it was, she felt sick. Because she never wants to think of herself as his, as a Morgenstern. So instead she focuses on this blade and on how Sturmhond's been so good to her and here he is giving her another opportunity to better herself. ]
It feels right.
[ She looks up at him, a hesitant smile on her face as she does so. ] Valentine prefers them.
[ An inhale. ] When I kill him, it should be with a sword. [ Because she will. She wants to. He has done nothing but hurt everyone she loves and while she doesn't want to be a murderer, Valentine is less than a person. He is the figure that took her mother and poisoned babies in the womb. He's evil. ]
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But he doesn't believe that death should be easy. Someone who kills ought to take responsibility for what they do, and when the sword is in your hand and you feel the weight of it as it enters another person, it forces you to do that. It holds you to account. ]
Well then. That's the answer.
I'm an excellent shot, Clary, but I'm better with a sword. It's always what I preferred. Let me teach you, and I'll make you lethal.
Particularly if you use Grisha steel.
Will you keep it?
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But then she looks at him. ] I didn't get you anything. I mean you can have my super epic whip if you want? You'd look like a total scene kid wielding it though.
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[ And then he pauses, looking at her strangely. That reference, of course, is over his head. He arches a brow. ]
What whip? There's really no need for me to know about your bedroom habits. There's such a thing as too much information, you know.
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It's made of electrum. Demons hate the stuff. Though I guess people who aren't demons wouldn't like being strangled with it either.
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