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chill-fixations · 4 years ago

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New Encounters

The boy couldn’t have been very old at all. Standing before her in mundane clothing with a determined gaze, he didn’t rise beyond her chest; which said something, really, as Charlotte’s petite figure stood above him, her chocolate eyes widened in surprise.

“I am a Shadowhunter,” the young boy stated, voice steady and eyes locked onto hers. “I want to be trained, and live as one of you.” Despite his oddly steely stature, his clothes looked worn, and dirty from what she could only assume was his journey to the institute. He also smelled… different. In a dozen ways, he smelled different than how he sounded and partially looked.

--- As head of the institute, Charlotte had invited the boy, William, inside, and led him to an empty bedroom. She knew it was her duty to take in nephilim children who chose to live as Shadowhunters. She had been too young to understand when his father had left the Shadowhunter world behind to marry a mundane, but she definitely knew the Herondale name. Charlotte tried conversing with Will, but he only gave quick and short answers, speaking only the absolute necessary, bare minimum to her before while evading the rest of the questions. It was all so confusing, leaving her puzzled and determined to figure out his situation. She sighed as she entered the great library, wondering what must be going through his head. “What made you decide to come train?” “Is your family alright?”

Her questions rang in the back of her mind, but she tried to ignore them. “He probably recalled being previously asked if he wanted to train, and decided he now did…” She mused to herself, although it wasn’t even half true, not even in her head, walking deeper into the library.

“What’s that, now?” Henry called distractedly, in the middle of carefully drawing up some sort of sketch over a round table. He was her husband, her partner, her beta.

“Will - I mean William, the boy… I was just trying to figure something out.” She glanced over to him, taking in the intense concentration on his face, as it faded for him to turn away and smile at her reassuringly. Henry’s scent was warm and deep, like spiced fruit or cinnamon. Just being near him made her feel like an invisible, soft blanket had been thoughtfully draped around and over her.

“I’m sure he had some sense in it, dear.”

She nodded her head, but couldn’t help but recall the shimmer of something else in his eyes, when he had first knocked on the door. Charlotte couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but something about him felt… tragic. He reeked of a deep, guttural sadness. It made Charlotte want nothing more than to bundle him up and warm him, but she doubted he’d be well receptive to any sort of treatment like that.

--- The next day, after he once again dodged her questions, she introduced him to Thomas. “You can train with him, and I can teach you both.” She smiled between the two, hoping they could become friends - he seemed like he needed one. “How can he possibly keep up with me? He’s just a scrawny little twig of a man.” Will sneered and puffed his chest out. Thomas frowned, but didn’t say anything back. “William!” Charlotte turned to him with narrowing eyes. Despite her disapproval, and his rude behavior, something in her chest wanted nothing more than to turn that joyless smirk into a genuine smile. Maybe that was part of why he seemed so quietly full of despair- he hadn’t smiled once since he’d arrived at the London Institute. Unaware of her tangled emotions, Will simply laughed and turned away. Even his taunting laugh sat sadly within her senses.

---

He didn’t warm up to the idea of Thomas through his training. Rather, he just seemed physically exhausted and upset as he ducked away and down the stairs leading to the training room. Charlotte sighed, putting away the wooden sticks they’d been using. Thomas was actually stronger than Will, and while Charlotte was mostly just teaching Will basic poses and grips today, Thomas had agreed to spar with the seemingly cocky Welsh boy, and had knocked him down, too. A starburst of emotion had flooded Charlotte’s senses in that moment, and she’d rushed over to help the boy up off the ground. “I don’t need your help!” Will had snapped, cheeks flush from excursion as he fell out of range of her hand. It hadn’t deterred her, though, something else taking over - protective motherly instincts? - as she checked to make sure he wasn’t bleeding. “Isn’t that why you’re here?” She had asked, still hovering protectively above him, but giving him his space. “You don’t know a damn thing!” He had yelled before leaving.

Charlotte shook her head out of her thoughts from earlier, and went to change for dinner.

---

At the table, it was only Henry, Charlotte, and Will. While she viewed Thomas as family, he was a mundane, and didn’t frequently sit to dinner with them, as his choice. Henry attempted to make conversation with Will, but he continued to retort shortly, or, he responded with much more detail in a much colder, harsher manner. While Charlotte remained feeling conflicted, Henry just laughed it off as he daydreamed of his newest invention. “That’s no way to speak to people if you want to make friends, Will-” “Who on earth said I wanted to be friends with anyone here? You’re all dreadful, really. Orphans on the streets seem more interesting than you two!” He scoffed. She could feel her heart jump at the clearly hurt, defensive words, but she laced her fingers together on her lap nonetheless, keeping her eyes steadily pointed onto him. “You’re hurting. Something is… wrong, but instead of letting anyone help you, you’re lashing out and pushing away.” The words tumbled out of her pursed lips before she gave them permission to, and she nearly felt surprised with them herself, despite her saying them. “No one can help the damned…” He muttered under his breath, pushing away from the table and storming out the room. Charlotte gasped and stared after him, suppressed her instincts to follow him and confront him. “Well I-!” “Hmmmm?” Henry hummed, breaking out of his reverie and looking around the table. “Huh, William disappeared.” She sighed, pressing her thumb and forefinger against her forehead and rubbing her temple. “Yes, he ran out. It seems I’ve upset him. I just want him to talk-” she let out a frustrated breath. It made sense. She would care like this about any random 12 year old who came wandering into her home, but… She wouldn’t have ever snapped and said those things so loosely with anyone else. What was it with William Herondale? She felt such a suffocating need to protect him, although she did not know what from. Henry’s finger traced the tablecloth beside his plate of food, tracing some invisible thing only he could picture in his mind's eye as he listened. “-I just don’t understand! Why he’s so allusive, why it’s so frustrating - I simply want to help him! I want to love him and soothe him and see his smile! Something is so clearly wrong, yet he won’t trust us-” “He is an omega, Lottie… it’s only natural you feel so extra inclined with him…” He wasn’t even looking at her anymore, lost in his thoughts as he replied.

“He’s an - omega?” She tipped her head to the side, finally halting her monologue. “Well, that and you described him as terribly sad…” Henry nodded.

Charlotte blinked over at him, stunned and curious. “I’ve never been so close to one before: I didn’t even know he was one… That cannot be why he is so full of despair, but… Perhaps it’s been getting to me even more so, due to it…” “Yes! Look at you, Charlotte! Making your own theories, your own hypothesis!” He grinned over to her, and she was momentarily shook out of her fixation thanks to the wide, beaming smile he gave her. “Yes…. I want to take care of him, Henry. Like he’s our own - he’s so small, despite his words, and he needs to be loved and nurtured…” She began fawning quietly, mentally concocting ways to make him smile. She would teach him to fight like a Shadowhunter. She would teach him love, even if he wasn’t consciously allowing her to. She would give him safety, and hopefully, happiness and healing. And Charlotte did, to an extent. It just wasn’t until Jem came along that he truly started to bloom. But that’s a different story.

#the infernal devices #charlotte branwell #henry branwell #william herondale #a/b/o dynamics #rated: g #requests #tid

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