#alastair verlac fic

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

Castle Towers Fall

Chapter 18

One Week Later…

Alastair looked down at his baby brother, who was sleeping peacefully in his bassinet, completely unaware of everything that had happened surrounding his birth.

He was an innocent being, untouched by the trauma that Alastair had endured during his childhood. He gurgled a bit in his sleep, a small smile lighting up his face.

Alastair couldn’t help but feel envious of him. Asleep without a care in the world, not knowing the feeling of a heavy burden weighing down on his shoulders. And Alastair would make sure it stayed that way for him, no matter what it takes.

“He needs a name. We can’t just call him dadash forever.” A voice said from behind him. Cordelia.

She was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed against her chest with a small smile on her face.

“I have an idea for a name.”

“Oh really, do tell?”

Alastair picked their brother up out of his bassinet and faced him toward Cordelia. “Jasper Theodor Carstairs. Bringer of treasure, gift of God. A perfect name for a Carstairs boy. Fitting, don’t you think?”

Cordelia took Jasper from Alastair’s arms and smiled. “Welcome to our family, Jasper. You’ll love it here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*dance music starts playing* Guess who’s back? Back again!

It’s short but sweet and I love it

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@regalremedy

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@life-through-the-eyes-of

@fatilightwood

@melanielocke

@have-a-holly-jolly-angstmas

@cant-think-of-anything

@tessherongraystairs

@wagner-fell

[tessherongraystairs]

My Alastair Verlac fic is three years old today 😭😭😭

Kat I’m so emotional about this

ITS THREE YEARS OLD

UR PRIDE AND JOY

[rainingpouringetc]

do i really think alastair is a verlac? no.

but do i really enjoy reading the theories and fics? absolutely i do.

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

Castle Towers Fall

Chapter 20/Epilogue

Summer 1908; Paris

Little Jasper Carstairs was running around the halls of his brother’s home, gigging and squealing as he went.

He was being chased by his brother’s partner, Thomas Lightwood, who was currently the tagger in their little game.

“You can’t catch me, Tommy! I’m going way too fast for you!” he called out, looking behind him to see if Thomas had indeed caught up with him.

He laughed gleefully when he realized that he had indeed outrun him. But his joy was short-lived as a pair of arms scooped him up.

It was his older brother, Alastair, who was looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Dadash! Quick! You have to hide me from Tommy!”

“And why should I do that?”

“Because I want to win at tag!”

Alastair had a questioning look on his face and Jasper began to pout. “I don’t know. That doesn’t seem like a good enough reason for me to help you.”

“Please, Lassie, please!”

Alastair was about to respond but was interrupting by two muscular arms wrapping around his waist and lifting the two of them up. Jasper giggled as it happened.

“I caught you, Jasper! And your brother, too.” Thomas pressed a kiss to Alastair cheek, causing the latter to roll his eyes.

“Put us down, you idiot. Dinner is almost ready and both of you need to wash your hands.”

Thomas looked at Alastair with faux-shocked look. “We aren’t that dirty, darling! Tell him, Jasper.”

“Yeah, dadash! We aren’t dirty at all!”

“You still need to wash your hands, both of you.” Alastair said with a bit of finality, so neither one would question it.

Thomas put both of them down with a sigh, Jasper automatically running to the sink to wash his hands. He turned to his lover with a smirk on his face, leaning down to kiss him.

“I love you, Alastair Jahan Verlac Lightwood-Carstairs.” he whispered in his ear.

Alastair smiled, happier than he had been in a long time. “And I love you, Thomas Gideon Lightwood-Carstairs.”

The end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It started as a oneshot, but here we are, two years and twenty chapters later!

It’s finally the end, you guys!!! Thank you to everyone who has been here from the beginning and has stuck through to the end. Seriously, you guys deserve the senior discount for this blog-

But anyways, thank for you for supporting me as I wrote my first multi-chapter fic! It’s been a long journey but it’s finally over!

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@have-a-holly-jolly-angstmas

@cant-think-of-anything

@tessherongraystairs

@wagner-fell

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

Castle Towers Fall

Chapter 19

March 1904; Cirenworth

It had been two months since Jasper had been born. And two months since Alastair’s mother had died, but no one wanted to mention that.

And now Alastair had decided to move Jasper and himself to Cirenworth, determined to fix it up and make it a home for the two of them. He had informed Thomas of his plans, not really giving him a choice in the matter.

Which lead to now, Thomas was standing in front of the door to Cirenworth, taking a deep breath and attempting to steady himself before he just walked in and turned everyone’s lives upside down.

Or at least he hoped he wouldn’t.

For all he knows, Alastair might not even like a big gesture like this. He might hate it and send him back to London without a second thought.

And just as he was about to talk himself out of it and change his mind, a familiar voice called out his name.

“Tom?” It was Alastair, coming out from the garden with a baby buggy. He had a confused look on his face and a single eyebrow raised, making Thomas start to flush with having been caught. “What are you doing here?”

“I,um…” he swallowed his nerves and started on his speech. “I’m here to ask if I can court you-”

Alastair interrupted him. “Excuse me? Court me? Thomas, you must be joking.”

“I’m serious. Now, can I please continue?”

“No. Why me? Why not anyone else?”

“Because…because you’re Alastair Jahan Carstairs. Or Verlac, or Turan, or whatever it is you want your last name to be. I don’t care because I’m in love with you and I want to court you because that’s what you deserve.” Thomas couldn’t believe that he had said any of that out loud. Much less to Alastair himself.

The man in question seemed a bit skeptical. “Really? And what happens when you grow tired of me and this life? Do you really want to risk it all for me? I’m not worth it.”

“Yes, you are. You’re worth it to me.”

“And what about Jasper then? You’re eighteen, you don’t need to worry about playing parent to a child that isn’t even yours.”

“And you’re nineteen doing the same thing.”

Alastair scowled at him, but Thomas knew he didn’t really mean it. He was just running out of excuses to turn him down.

“I want to try, Alas. Please let me try.”

He walked over to Alastair and caressed his cheek with his hand. Alastair leaned into his touch. “Please let me try.” Thomas whispered to him, putting their foreheads together.

“Okay. Let’s try.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay one more chapter to go! I’m literally going to start crying-

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@cant-think-of-anything

@tessherongraystairs

@wagner-fell

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

Hi! I'm CK. I've kinda known you for a while because of tlh, but lately I've realised that you write original stuff? And I'm saying this because I'd love it if you told me more about it!!!!!!

I also write but I've been going through a huge writers block I mean to get out of, and so I want to kinda surround myself with other writers? Not to steal any ideas lol, just because yk people talking about their passions might bring a bit of mine? Besides I'm sure you're a great writer I remember the Alastair verlac fics xnsowoawnqosjwnwwon

:)

Hi CK!!! I’ve kinda known you from our mutual mutual (there needs to be a term for when two people share a mutual), Wagner, so I’m glad we’re actually getting to talk!!!

I’m always open to talk about my original stuff and others’ as well because I totally agree about surrounding yourself with other writers because it’s the best way to bounce ideas off of one another and get excited about your own work as well, which can be great for writer’s block

I personally am just getting over some writer’s block which has allowed me to work on my current work, which is the one I’m currently most passionate about

So yeah, CK, just ask and I can tell you anything about my WIP

I still get shocked when people remember the Alastair Verlac fics omg, like that feels like so long ago-

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

Happy first birthday to Castle Towers Fall!!! This fic is my baby and I love it so much 🥳🥳🥳

Not Angstmas

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Castle Towers Fall

Chapter 16 *TW MENTIONS OF PANIC ATTACKS*

It took a few minutes for Alastair’s breathing to even-out again and when it did, the look on his face broke Thomas’s heart.

His dark eyes were glassy and tears were making his long eyelashes stick together, his tear-stained cheeks slightly reddened. Alastair was shivering in the cold, he was shockingly jacket-less, for someone who constantly nagged him for not wearing proper clothing; he could be such a hypocrite.

And Thomas says that in the most loving way possible, obviously.

“Alastair,” he was whispering, he didn’t know why, but it fit the atmosphere for the moment. “do you want to talk about what happened?”

“I hate him.”

Thomas was shocked that Alastair had responded, he’d been expecting to have to coax him into speaking, if he even would at all.

“Who? Who do you hate?”

“Elias. Theodor. Both of my fathers. Even if I never really knew them. It’s pathetic of me to hate them, isn’t it?” Alastair questioned, looking at him with eyes brimming with tears.

“Oh, my darling, my love.” Thomas reached over and pulled Alastair to rest against his chest as he sobbed. “It’s not pathetic, not at all. You’re allowed to feel this way, love. You’re allowed to hate them.”

They sat there, Alastair in Thomas’s lap while he whispered sweet nothings into his ear, in an attempt to comfort the still-shaking boy.

Eventually, Alastair sat up and hugged Thomas tightly, whispering in his ear:

“Thank you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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@cant-think-of-anything

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

Nobody:

My brain: You should write the next chapter of Castle Towers Fall

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

Castle Towers Fall

Chapter 10 *Fluff Warning* *Light Angst*

January 1904; London Institute

Alastair was kissing Thomas Lightwood. Thomas Lightwood was kissing Alastair. Alastair thought he might pass out, he’d never imagined this to ever happened, or for Thomas to reciprocate his feelings? Or did he not reciprocate them? He hadn’t had the chance to ask yet.

They’d been kissing for a few seconds when they pulled apart when the need to breathe for too strong, resting their foreheads together. The kiss wasn’t hot and quick, like the ones with Charles had been, no, it had been soft and slow, and definitely sweet. Alastair definitely wanted to kiss Thomas again, but he needed to know something first.

“Why did you do that?” he whispered, pulling away from Thomas and avoiding his eyes.

“Because I wanted to.” Thomas whispered back. He moved his hand to rest over Alastair’s, but Alastair snatched his hand away as if it had been burned.

“Why are you lying?”

“I’m not. Why would you think I am?”

Alastair let out a quiet chuckle. “You didn’t want to kiss me, it was purely instinct. And besides, everyone lies.”

“Not me,” Thomas said. “I’ve been told that I’m quite terrible at it.”

Alastair doubted that. Excellent liars always say they aren’t excellent liars, Alastair should know, Charles was an excellent liar. “But how would I know that you aren’t lying to me?”

“You wouldn’t. Maybe you should trust me.” Thomas said, moving closer to Alastair. Their lips were nearly touching.

“Oh really.” Alastair breathed out, patiently waiting for the kiss to come.

“Yes.”

And they kissed. And kissed. And kissed. They kissed until their mouths hurt and the demand for air burned their lungs. Their foreheads were resting against each other now, both of them were pressing chaste kisses to each other’s lips.

Alastair knew he must have a stupid smile on his face, since it was the same look Thomas had on his face currently.

“I think I’ve been in love with you since Paris.” Thomas whispered, breaking the comfortable silence they had created.

“I-” Alastair was about to reply when there was a sudden crash at the library door. The two of them jumped apart at the sudden call out of Cordelia’s voice.

“Alastair, dadash, are you here?” she yelled as she came around the corner to where they were.

Alastair eyed her raggedy appearance with concern. “Layla, what’s wrong?” Cordelia looked shaken.

“We have to go to Silent City, something’s wrong with Mâmân!”

Alastair saw black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Riley ducks out to go to her next class like she didn’t just leave you guys on another cliff hanger*

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[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

Castle Towers Fall

Chapter 6 *Angst Warning* *Trigger Warning; Alcohol, Alchohlics, Abuse*

December 1903; London, England

Not even a week. His father hadn’t been home a week and he was already drinking his weight in alcohol. Alastair’s mother had come into his room, worried that something had happened to Elias, and asked him to go look for him.

Alastair already knew the first places to look; any local bar or pub. But to his shock, his father was nowhere to be seen. He check alleyways and parks but still no sign of Elias. Which is how he ended up at Devil Tavern. It was the only place he hadn’t checked and the one place he wanted to avoid as much as possible.

He spotted Elias the moment he had arrived. Slumped over on the bar, a half empty drink in front of him, the sight made Alastair sick to his stomach. He looked around and sighed in relief that he saw no one he knew there, this wasn’t a situation he wanted to explain to anyone.

Alastair looked around to find a bartender and walked up to the girl at the end of the bar. “Excuse me?” he asked, trying to get her attention.

“Yes?” The girl said as she turned away from the werewolf she had currently been serving. From the looks of her, she was a werewolf as well.

Alastair pointed to his father slumped at the other end of the bar. “How long has he been passed out?”

The girl looked puzzled and shrugged. “Twenty minutes, maybe half an hour, I suppose.”

“Thank you.” he said, turning on his heel to go collect his father. He was almost tempted to leave him there, petty revenge for all the years he’s had to do this. But, his mother was counting on him to do this and he couldn’t stress her out more than she had already been. This pregnancy had been difficult, Sona often tired and holed up in her bedroom. Elias’s disappearing acts weren’t help her either.

“Come on, Father.” he grunted as he attempted to lift Elias’s arms over his shoulders. It was difficult, as his father was a lot heavier than he had originally thought. Also a lot more awake.

Elias had started to fight a little bit as Alastair helped him up, struggling against him. “No, I don’t need your help, I’m fine!” he slurred angrily and Alastair fought back a flinch. So he’s in that kind of mood tonight.

The bartender girl from earlier speaks up, “Do you need help, sir?”

“No, I’ve got it. He’s my father.” The girl gives him an odd look but shrugs it off and turns back to her customer.

“He doesn’t need to help me! I’m absolutely fine!” Elias continued to cry, Alastair inwardly sighing. You aren’t fine and you haven’t been in a long time, Alastair thought to himself.

Alastair had nearly managed to drag his father out the door, when he heard a familiar voice calling out to him, one that he did not want to hear. James Herondale. He turned his head, catching a glimpse of James and his band of friends gathered around the bottom of the stairwell. They all looked concerned, even Fairchild of all people. His eyes avoided Thomas’s, who’s face was fixed on his, scared of the look he might see.

“Alastair, is your father alright?” James asked as he stepped closer. Alastair quickly came up with an excuse, not wanting to deal with James’s pity or have him tell Cordelia. But by the looks of this, the latter might already happen.

“He’s just fine, thank you. Had a little too much to drink is all, my mother asked me to col-” he was cut off by his father struggling again, attempting to land some sort of punch.

Elias looked up at Alastair and growled out, “I’m just fine, boy. I can get home myself.” he couldn’t fight his flinch this time. At least he wasn’t facing his future brother-in-law and his group.

“Father, calm down, remember where you are. Where we are.” Alastair whispered harshly under his breath, he was not about to let their reputation be ruined again. Elias seemingly brushed him off, finally breaking out of Alastair’s hold, determined to prove that he could walk on his own two feet. The result was him stumbling bow-legged and falling on his face outside the door. Alastair quickly went to his father’s aid, shocked to see James doing the same.

“I don’t need help, Herondale. I can do this just fine on my own.” he said desperately, hoping that they would all just leave. He helped his father up, heaving one of his arms over his shoulder once again. James was at Elias’s other side in an instant, bringing his other arm over his shoulder. A big mistake.

Elias attempted to swing at James, but James, who was quicker and definitely more sober, had dodged out of the way and dropped his arm.

“Like I said, I can do it on my own.” Alastair said as he finally got Elias into the carriage. He finally turned to the group, still avoiding Thomas’s presence (after all, he didn’t really want to go for a swim in the Thames). Fairchild looked absolutely terrified, his face almost as green as his eyes, Alastair guessed he saw his own potential future in his father. The younger Lightwood, Christopher, seemed to have only just started to pay attention. James’s face was impassive and it seemed he had also done his fair share of helping out drunk people. Probably not ones that fought as much as Elias did.

He almost let his eyes drift to Thomas. Almost. But he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle whatever look would be on his face, it would hurt too much. Instead, he bid them goodbye and turned on his heel, returning back to carriage, where his father had passed out.

The ride home was beyond terrible, the sour scent of heavy alcohol was emanating off of Elias, creating a terrible stench that made Alastair want to vomit. It also didn’t help that Elias kept tossing and turning in the carriage, jostling it quite a bit. He had hoped that Elias’s unconsciousness would last the night, but it hadn’t, he had woken up as Alastair helped him into one of the spare bedrooms. And he was just as angry as he had been in the pub, just a little bit more sober as well. Elias staggered up to Alastair, an angry expression schooled on his features. Alastair closed his eyes and hoped for the best. He may have been taller, stronger, but to his father; he was always weak.

Alastair hadn’t been expecting the blow when it had first landed, harshly on the side of his jaw with a crack. The force of it had knocked him to the ground, his father hovering over him. One of his hands went up to his face, cradling his hurt jaw, looking at Elias in horror. It had never been this bad. Maybe a few bruises that could be hidden under clothing, but never something this obvious. That was the part his mother didn’t know about, the hitting. He couldn’t break his poor Maman’s heart even more by telling her that Elias had hit him more than a few times while he was drunk.

Elias sneered in Alastair’s face, his breath smelled stale and sour like the beer he had been drinking as he spoke. “There’s no way you could be my son. Any son of mine would be able to take a punch without falling to the ground like a weak child.” he hissed out the last part, crouching to be in Alastair’s face more, making the younger man flinch.

“Papa-” Alastair whimpered, hoping it would get him to stop. But it only made the older man laugh.

“I am not your papa. I should’ve known your mother was lying to me. You look just like him!” Elias yelled in his face, uncaring that Alastair had started to crawl away from him. He was back up against a wall, trying to control his breathing. Elias was drunk, he didn’t know what he was saying, but it was so similar to what the girl in Paris had said...that he looks so much like his mother’s first husband. It couldn’t be true.

“Your mother has been lying to me for years! Just like the who-”

Before Elias could even finish the word, Alastair stood up and punched him right in the nose, effectively knocking him out. Alastair didn’t waste anymore time, he ran out of the spare room and didn’t stop until he was outside the house.

“Alastair!” A way too familiar voice called from nearby, but Alastair ignored the voice and collected his strength, kept running. And running. And running. Until he got to the River Thames.

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@fantasy-rep

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@the-come-n-stare-family

@aceofjesper

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

Castle Towers Fall

Chapter 9

January 1904; London Institute

They’d been working on trying to find out information on Theodor Verlac for a month now. And they barely had anything.

“Maybe we should just give up,” Alastair said finally, sinking down into his chair. “We’re not getting anywhere.”

“Come on now, don’t say that Alastair.” Thomas said from the chair he was sitting on. “Maybe we’re getting closer to finding out something.”

Alastair blew a tuft of hair from out of his eyes. “All we know is that he married my mother in June 1883 and died suddenly in early January of 1884. We can’t get anywhere with that information.”

“I mean we could ask-”

“No, we are not asking her.”

The her Alastair was referring to, was none other than Filomena di Angelo. She had recently come to the London Institute for a late travel year, apparently she wasn’t as old as Alastair originally thought, only two years older than himself. They’d talked a few times, mostly just short conversations when bumping into each other in the halls. Thomas had thought it would be a good idea to ask her about Theodor, as he was her cousin after all, but Alastair refused to bring more people into this than necessary. “It’s not like she could help much anyways.” he said in his own defense.

Thomas sighed and rolled his eyes. “But she could. She has the resources to ask family members and get photographs.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Alastair sighed, rubbing his hands over his eyes. He hadn’t slept much in the past few weeks, the lack of sleep had given him a painful headache over the past few days, making it hard to focus.

“Are you alright, Alastair?” Thomas asked, moving to sit next to Alastair on the couch.

“Just peachy.” he groaned, sinking deeper into the couch cushion. The dull throb in his skull was slowly getting worse and worse.

“Maybe a break will do you some good.” the other boy suggested as he placed a hand on Alastair’s shoulder and squeezed lightly. Thomas had been doing things like that a lot recently, Alastair had noticed. Placing a hand on his shoulder that lingered a little too long, small smiles, longing looks. It was slowly starting to make Alastair go insane. It was pure torture.

It made Alastair wonder if Thomas knew his affect on Alastair? Did he know how Alastair felt about him? Alastair was tugged out of his thoughts by Thomas’s voice calling out to him.

“Alastair? Are you sure, you’re alright?” Thomas sounded concerned and when Alastair looked at him, he noticed his hazel eyes were wide with it as well.

“I’m fine. Let’s just get back to work, yeah?”

And they worked for the next half hour or so, looking over the files again and again for something, anything that could help them.

“Thomas, can you hand me the file from the Paris Institute?” he asked without looking up from his own current file.

“Sure thing.” the other boy replied, getting up to hand the file over. Alastair turned slightly to thank him, turning his head up.

Their faces were so close that their lips brushed together slightly. Alastair jumped back and shock, Thomas doing the same. They both had shocked looks on their faces.

Alastair was about to apologize when Thomas kissed him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author Note:

I’m back!!!!!! This is the chapter you’ve all been waiting for. Sorry this took so long, but I think it was worth it for this. The angst isn’t over yet and will make a comeback soon enough, so don’t be worried.

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[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

Castle Towers Fall

Chapter 12 *Major Angst*

January 1904; The Silent City

Cordelia smiled down at her new baby brother as he slept quietly in her arms. Alastair had gone to see if there’s any update on their mother, even though he was still a bit shaky from fainting earlier. Their cousin Jem, otherwise known as Brother Zachariah, had attended to him and assured her that it was just a combination of low sleep and extreme stress.

Alastair had even been forced to promise that he would take it easy and actually sleep after this whole ordeal with their mother was over. He’d done it with an eyeroll but Cordelia knew he would listen.

The baby in her arms started to fuss and stretching out his arms and legs within the swaddle. His face was all scrunched up and tears were starting to well up in his face.

“Hush, joon. It’s alright, it’s alright.” she cooed, rocking him in her arms. He calmed considerably with a small smile, opening his eyes. “You need a name, don’t you, dadash? We can’t just call you nicknames forever, you might never know you’re real name if we do that. We might just have to wait for Mâmân to tell us what you’re name is, hm?” Her brother started to gurgle, showing off his gummy smile.

Someone cleared their throat. Cordelia turned to see Alastair leaning against the door frame. “We won’t have to wait long, Mâmân wants to see all of us. The Silent Brothers just told me.” Alastair said, pushing himself off the door frame and turning on his heel.

Cordelia held their brother closer to her chest and followed behind him. “Do you think everything’s alright? With Mâmân, I mean?”

Alastair wasn’t looking at her when he replied. “I don’t know, Cordelia. I really don’t know.”

Cordelia, not Layla. That means this must be serious, a lot more serious than anyone is letting on.

Their mother was laying on a bed when they walked into the room. She looked so tired, even if she was trying not to show it. She smiled weakly at them when she heard them come in, beckoning them closer with her hand.

“Children, come here. Come sit with me.” she said in a quiet voice. Cordelia sat down first and shifted to make her brother more comfortable when she did so. Alastair was still standing in the doorway, almost like he was scared to come into the room fully. “Alastair, come sit, please.” her mother sounded desperate at the last word.

Alastair complied and sat down with his whole body riddled with tension. He was avoiding looking at any of them, preferring to pick at the skin on his hands.

Her mother made a grabbing motion with her hands, reaching out for the baby sleeping in Cordelia’s arms. “I haven’t gotten to hold him yet. How has he been, azizam?”

“Perfect, Mâmân. He’s absolutely perfect.” Cordelia gushed as she shifted her brother into her mother’s arms. He started to cry loudly, his tiny arms flailing around.

“Hush, eshgham. Mama’s here, it’s alright. You’re alright.” she cooed, looking utterly enamored with her new baby. “He looks like you did when you were a baby, Alastair. Especially with that full head of hair.” she stroked his head, soothing the little baby more.

Alastair finally looked up with a small smile on his face. “I’m sure he does, Mâmân.” he looked at their brother, looking a little shocked when his small fist grabbed Alastair’s finger.

“You both did that a lot too, you know. I remember that after you were born Cordelia, you grabbed his finger, it wasn’t much bigger than yours, but you gripped it so tight that Alastair almost fell off the bed because he jumped back so far.” their mother said fondly with a soft laugh.

Cordelia looked at Alastair with raised eyebrows. “I guess me scaring you has always been happened, eh, dadash?” Alastair rolled his eyes at her fondly.

“Oh, shush Layla.” he retorted, but his words had no heat behind them.

“Children, I need to tell you both something.” their mother was suddenly quiet, the whole room dripping in silence after the baby had finally settled to sleep. Cordelia and Alastair both focused their eyes on their mother.

“What is it, Mama?” Cordelia said, using the name she hadn’t used in years for her mother.

“It’s about your father.” their mother was avoiding their eyes, just like Alastair did when he was lying. They were all terrible liars, Cordelia was just better at hiding it than her mother and brother did.

“What about our father?” Cordelia prompted, even though she didn’t really want to know the answer to that.

“It’s not about your father, Cordelia. It’s about mine. Right, Mâmân?” Alastair said with his eyes blazing in determination. Cordelia looked at her brother in confusion. But they share the same father? Elias is their father, he always has been, even if he’s gone now.

Their mother nodded wearily before responding. “Yes, Alastair. You’re right. I wasn’t talking about Elias, I was talking about Theodor.”

Theodor? Why was Mama talking about her dead husband? Nothing was making sense right now to Cordelia.

“You see, Cordelia, Elias isn’t Alastair’s father. Theodor is.”

“That can’t be true. Alastair, tell me it’s not true.” she turned to her brother frantically, searching his eyes for an answer.

“I would be lying Layla, and I promised myself I wouldn’t lie to you after the whole ordeal with Elias.” Elias. Not baba, or papa, or even father. Just Elias. She knew he was bitter about him but she’d never heard Alastair call him by his first name, he usually referred to him as father around her.

Cordelia turned to her mother, tears burning in her eyes. “Why did you lie, Mama? Why?” she asked, close to tears.

“I didn’t know I was pregnant when Theodor died, so that was why I married Elias without hesitation. I found out after the wedding and assumed the baby-Alastair-was his.” her mother explained, looking at her and reaching a hand out to touch hers.

“How did you find out then?” Alastair asked, but he didn’t let their mother answer and kept on talking. “Is it because I look like him? Two people have pointed it out, Mâmân. Please tell me.”

She nodded. “Yes. You look exactly like my Theodor did, it’s almost like looking at a memory. You have his hair, his nose, the shape of his eyes, you even get the same determined look on your face that he did. But it’s not just that,” she hesitated, looking back down at the baby in her arms.

“What else is there?” Cordelia didn’t know what else could prove who fathered Alastair besides the way he looks.

“When Cortana chose you, Cordelia, over Alastair, I think my mind caught up with what my heart already knew. That Elias wasn’t Alastair’s father.”

She’d known for nearly five years and hadn’t said a word?

“Five years, you waited five years to say anything? Why?” Alastair beat her to it before she could even ask the question she’d been thinking.

“Cordelia, why don’t you take the baby and let Alastair and I have some time to talk?” Their mother suggested, reaching out to give the baby to her. Cordelia accepted him into her arms with a nod and left the room.

She only just got the first few words her mother said when she closed the door.

“It all started when...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Translations:

Joon - Dear

Dadash - Brother

Azizam - My dear

Eshgham - My love

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Castle Towers Fall

Chapter 7 *Angst Warning* *Trigger Warnings: Talk of Physical Abuse, Substance Abuse*

December 1903; London, England

Thomas was waiting outside of the Carstairs home, debating on whether or not he should go inside. He hadn’t spoken to Alastair since the night of James and Cordelia’s engagement party, not that he didn’t want to, but he knew his friends-especially Matthew-wouldn’t agree with him forgiving Alastair.

He’d forgiven Alastair two months after that night and hadn’t worked up the nerve to even say a word to him. And Thomas had a feeling that the first thing he says to him in months shouldn’t be about Elias’s alcoholism. Maybe he shouldn’t try to talk to Alastair right now, it doesn’t seem like the best time...? But if he doesn’t now, he might not get the chance with the way Alastair had been avoiding him as if he carried the actual plague. After a small debate in his head, Thomas finally decided that he should talk to Alastair.

Before he could overthink his decision, the front door slammed open and Alastair came running out, slowing down at the steps. He looked out of breath and Thomas could swear he saw a bruise on his face.

“Alastair!” Thomas called out and Alastair started running again, ignoring him. So he made a rash decision and ran after him as fast as he could.

He never realized how fast Alastair was before this, maybe because he hadn’t ever seen him run like that before, but damn, was he fast. He tried to follow the best he could and he was out of breath by the time he had finally caught up to Alastair. Alastair, who was sitting on the edge of the bridge, head bowed low.

Thomas started to slow his pace into a jog, trying not to startle Alastair too much, especially considering he was in a pretty delicate position from Thomas’s point of view. As he started to get closer, he noticed how heavily Alastair was breathing and the slight outline of tear tracks on his cheeks. His hair was sticking up in odd tufts, as if he’d attempted to pull it out of his scalp. Thomas couldn’t deny that Alastair looked completely and utterly broken.

“Alastair?” he whisper-yelled as he got closer to Alastair. Apparently his plan of not startling Alastair had failed, as Alastair had jumped and almost fell off the bridge, if not for Thomas’s hand reaching out to steady him. Alastair didn’t so much as spare him a glance, keeping his eyes trained on the water below them. “Alastair? Are you alright?”

“What are you doing here, Lightwood?” Alastair said, his voice tired and ragged. He still wasn’t looking at him, Thomas didn’t even know if he was looking at anything.

“I came to see if you were alright,” he started to say but Alastair cut him off with weak wave of his hand.

“I’m perfectly fine, Lightwood. I don’t need your pity.” It was obvious to Thomas that Alastair was trying make himself sound biting, but it really only came out as strained.

Thomas sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “It isn’t pity, Carstairs. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” The other boy let out a bitter laugh in response.

“And why wouldn’t I be alright? Because my father’s a drunk? Why should you even care, Thomas, you hate me, remember?” Alastair’s voice had started out loud but slowly diminished in volume until his voice was only just above a whisper.

Thomas feels guilty at Alastair’s admission. He doesn’t hate Alastair, he never has. He doesn’t even think he could. Surely Alastair must know that? Right?

“You don’t hate me?” Alastair whispers and Thomas realized that he said all of that out loud.

He shook his head. “No, I don’t and I never did. I was just angry about what you had said, but I forgave you. A while ago, actually. I know Matthew’s side, but I want to know yours as well. If you want to tell me.”

Alastair nodded and took a shaky breath before speaking. “Alright then. After Herondale’s expulsion, Fairchild picked a fight with me about it, made some comments. About my father, my skin, the way I look. So I retaliated, repeated a rumor that Elias had been talking about one day,” he paused again to take another shaky breath.

“Fairchild got angry and he moved my stuff to the South wing of the academy, he told me so and I got there right before it exploded,” Alastair was still talking but Thomas had zoned out, in shock about this new information. He had known about what Alastair had said about the rumor and that Matthew helped with the explosion, but not everything else. He hadn’t known about Alastair’s stuff being there or the comments Matthew had made, Matthew had made it seem like Alastair had said everything unprovoked. Now Thomas could see that he hadn’t.

“-and I know none of this excuses my actions, but I’m sorry for the pain it has caused you and your family. I never meant for that to happen. I-Thomas?” Alastair stopped-probably noticing his lack of attention-and finally looked up at him, dark eyes watery, cheeks and nose reddened slightly from the cold. But that wasn’t what had caught Thomas’s eye.

There was a giant bruise on the left side of Alastair’s jaw, already a nasty looking shade of purple. One that had definitely not been there at the Devil. Thomas’s jaw clenched in anger when he realized who had done it.

“Alastair, did your father give you that bruise?” he asked, raising a hand to Alastair’s face to get a better look, stopping mid-air at Alastair’s flinch. The other boy didn’t answer, looking pointedly back at the ground again. “Alastair?”

“What?” It was barely a whisper, almost incoherent but Thomas heard it. He sounded sad and so, so broken. And all Thomas wanted to do was fix him, this beautiful broken boy.

“Did he do this to you?” Thomas asked again hoping for an answer.

“It’s not like it’s the first time it’s happened.” Alastair mumbled, moving to climb off the edge of the bridge. He sat against it now with his knees up to his chest, Thomas sat next to him, careful to leave some distance between them. He felt angry. Angry that a father would do this to his own son, being drunk is no excuse.

“What do you mean it’s not the first time?”

Alastair let out a wry chuckle. “I’ve been carrying him out of bars and pubs since I was ten, he’s never been consistent while drunk. Sometimes he’s tired and won’t do much, other times, like tonight, he has a bit of a fight in him. And I happen to be on the receiving end of it.”

Thomas’s eyebrows furrowed. Ten? He’d been doing this for nearly a decade now. Did Cordelia know? Or Mrs. Carstairs? Or were they in the dark just as much as everyone else was about Mr. Carstair’s “illness”?

“Does your mother know? Or Cordelia?” Thomas asked, scooting a little bit closer to Alastair. The latter shook his head, turning his body to face Thomas.

“They know about the drinking, Cordelia only recently though. No one knows about the hitting, besides it only happens rarely.” The other boy brushed it off like it was nothing and he hadn’t even told anyone how bad it was. Did he really think any of this was okay?

“Why didn’t you tell anyone, your mother especially?”

“My father’s drinking breaks her heart every day that he isn’t sober, I couldn’t break her more. They love each other in their own way I suppose.” Alastair explained and Thomas’s heart broke for him. He had never seen this side of Alastair before, the one who shouldered the burden of his family, protecting everyone else from heartbreak. Thomas had always known of course that Alastair was fiercely protective and loyal to his family, but this is just proved what lengths he was willing to go to protect them.

“I admire you for doing, as funny as it sounds. You want your family to be happy and if you have to be hurt for that to happen, you do it anyway, I admire that. Even if I think you shouldn’t of had to go through it alone.”

Alastair looked away again. “They might not even be my family, you know.” he whispered, just loud enough for Thomas to hear him.

“What do you mean?” Thomas asked, puzzled. How could they not be his family?

“Elias made a comment tonight, it just irked me a little. Something about how I couldn’t be his son because I’m weak.”

Thomas was a little less confused but that still didn’t answer why they might not be his family anymore. “But it’s not like you aren’t his son, right?”

“Maybe.”

“What do you mean ‘maybe’?”

Alastair shrugged. “Maybe I’m not even a Carstairs.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Happy New Year Everyone! Hope you all had a great holiday and I’m sorry this took so long! Anyways, I hope everyone is doing well and I will try to update more!

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Castle Towers Fall

Chapter 4 *Angst Warning*

April 1899; Cirenworth in Devon

Many years had passed from that day, Alastair was now fourteen and Cordelia was a year behind him at thirteen. Alastair had since changed from the happy, carefree child he had used to be. That child had been replaced by a stoic young man, who had taken on a heavy burden so young, and Sona would be forever greatful for that. But she couldn’t lie and say that she didn’t miss the happy little boy her son used to be, when he smiled and laughed at anything.

She watched from afar as Alastair and Cordelia argued their cases to Elias about who should have Cortana, their eyes glittering like two pairs of onyx stones as they both tried to out-argue the other. Alastair had that face he always wore when he was determined, making him look more like a certain Verlac than he already did. Sona had long given up on trying to say that she was seeing things when it came to Alastair’s physical similarities to her first husband, but he was a Carstairs, not a Verlac. She knew that fact in her heart and it would be confirmed when he is given Cortana, just like every Carstairs boy before him.

Days pass without a decision from Elias, who refuses to talk with Sona about it, because apparently it was a matter between him and his children, not her. Everything with Elias nowadays never had to do with her anymore, ever since he started getting blackout drunk almost every night of the week. Leaving her son to clean up the mess he would make. It made her cringe at the fact that Alastair would drag his father home from bars and pubs, cleaning up the throw up and bottles littered everywhere. He never once complained about it either, taking every possible measure to ensure Cordelia never found out.

Alastair still loved Cordelia as much as did the first day he had met her, barely an hour after her birth. He was fiercely protective of her and hated to see her hurt, always trying to be the best older brother he could be. Even if Cordelia didn’t always see it.

Sona’s train of thought was broken by the sounds of squealing. She looks to see Cordelia holding Cortana in her hands victoriously, a proud smile on her face. Alastair was trailing behind her, looking mildly disappointed but still happy for his sister. Sona’s eyes searched for Elias, who had come behind them, looking pale and tired. He placed a hand on Alastair’s shoulder and squeezed, Sona noticed how Alastair tensed when he did so.

“You chose.” Sona said, trying to hide the shaking in her voice. No. This couldn’t be right. Elias had always said Cortana would go to Alastair, since he could pass it on to the next generation of Carstairs.

Elias shook his head, stumbling a bit as he stood forward. Alastair’s arm was out in a second to steady Elias and help him lean against the wall, Cordelia oblivious as she stared at the sword in her hands. “No. Cortana chose for me.” Sona paled in response, panic rising. No.

No. No. No. No.

“Maman, are you alright?” Cordelia asked, finally moving her attention away from Cortana.

Sona managed a weak smile. “I’m just a bit tired, khoshgelam, I think I’m going to go rest a bit before dinner.” she quickly bid her family a small goodbye as she rushed upstairs to her bedroom, nearly running over Risa in the process.

She collapsed against the door, letting out a heaving sigh as she thought about the last fourteen years of Alastair’s life, how similar he is to Theodor and how she pushed those thoughts away. But Cortana confirmed it. There was no reason that Alastair shouldn’t have Cortana, unless he’s not a Carstairs, but instead a Verlac. It was like all her greatest fears had suddenly come true.

Nobody can know, she thought to herself as she pushed herself off of the door and started to pace. People had only just stopped saying that she had poisoned Theodor, what would they say if they found out Alastair wasn’t Elias’s? Would they say she lied? That she trapped him? Even thinking about their harsh words made her head hurt.

Sona started to think about Alastair, oh poor Alastair. He didn’t even know and it would kill him if he did know. How could she turn his world upside down like this? Change everything he had ever known over one fact? He was so much like Theodor that she didn’t even know how he would react to the situation, because with the two of them you never knew how they would react. Would he cry? Would he be relieved? Would be angry? Would he hate her? Would he resent Elias more for not knowing?

Elias.

The thought only just occurred to her about what he would do if he knew. His words would be harsher than those of the people, him calling her a liar would hurt her a hundred times more than it would for anyone else to. Another reason for her not to say anything.

A knock sounded at the door. “Sona, are you alright?” Risa said in Farsi, sounding concerned.

No one can know what she knows.

Translations:

Khoshgelam - My beautiful

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Castle Towers Fall

Chapter 8 *Angst Warning*

December 1903; London, England

“What?!?” Thomas sputtered, completely in shock. Alastair knew this would probably happen when he said it, but he knew he had to tell someone. “How could that even be possible?”

“My parents got married about a month after my mother’s first husband had died, she found out she was pregnant a few weeks later. Coincidence no?” he explained to the other boy, who nodded. “But what if she had already been pregnant before the wedding? It’s certainly a possibility.”

Thomas’s forehead was wrinkled in thought. “It could be, but do you have any other evidence?”

Alastair considered that. He didn’t have much to back it, only some connections that could be coincidences, but what about...

“Paris.” he said simply, not looking at Thomas, but he could feel his eyes on him.

“What do you mean Paris?”

Alastair glanced over at Thomas, giving him a small smile. “When I first got to Paris, I bumped into a girl. She was a cousin of my mother’s first husband, Theodor Verlac. She said I looked like him, she originally assumed I was a Verlac.” he explained and Thomas’s eyes widened.

“And who was the girl?”

“Filomena di Angelo, I believe. She was from the Rome Institute.”

Thomas nose scrunched up to match his forehead and Alastair wanted to smooth the lines it and created. “That name seems familiar. I feel like I’ve heard it before.”

“Maybe you have. I only met her that one time, never saw her again. Her comment left me a little shaken, I just pushed those doubts down. Elias just made them resurface I guess.”

“Have you ever seen a portrait or picture of your mother’s first husband? Maybe that would help clear your head?” Thomas suggested, moving closer to Alastair. Alastair shook his head, he didn’t even know what Theodor had looked like, only the comment that he looked like him.

Thomas looked like he was considering what he was about to say and Alastair rolled his eyes. “Just say what you want to say, Lightwood. I can practically hear you thinking.”

“Do you think your mother might have one? A picture, I mean.” he looked uneasy, like he thought it might offend Alastair.

“Probably not. Elias doesn’t seem like the type to let someone keep anything of a former husband.” Lies. More like Elias could have possibly destroyed anything left of Theodor that his mother might’ve had.

“Maybe you should tell Cordelia about this, she could help.” Thomas suggested with a shrug.

“I don’t want to tell her unless I’m absolutely sure, she doesn’t need this on top of everything else at home.”

“Why did you keep her in the dark about your father anyway? Wouldn’t she know if he was drinking?”

Alastair was a bit surprised by Thomas’s boldness, but started to talk before he could retract his statement. “I wanted her to have the childhood I didn’t. My mother agreed so we kept it from her and she only found out a few months ago. Nothing has been the same at home since then.”

“And telling her about this would make everything worse.” Thomas pointed out and Alastair could only nod.

They sat in silence for a moment, before Thomas’s hand moved to grasp Alastair’s from where it was resting on his knee.

“I want to help you, Alastair. If you’ll let me.”

“Okay, I think I can handle that.”

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Castle Towers Fall

Chapter 11 *Angst Warning*

January 1904; Silent City

Sona had just become a mother for the third time. And it hurt. Everything hurt. It felt so much more painful than it had been with Cordelia and Alastair. Maybe it just felt that way since it had been eighteen years since the last time she had given birth.

The whole experience of it had been hazy, she really didn’t remember much more than the feeling of overwhelming pain and the sounds of her own screams. At the end, they had told her she had given birth to a boy. Another son. She hadn’t really gotten to see him or even hold him, she didn’t think she had heard him cry either.

Sona knew something was wrong, something that the Silent Brothers hadn’t told her yet, but she knew from the way Risa had looked at her. Risa had stayed by her side the past month, after she had made Elias leave. Sona had seen the terrible bruise on Alastair’s face the next morning after she’d sent him to get Elias, she didn’t hesitate after Alastair had tried to lie about who hit him, she’d kicked him out once and for all. She wouldn’t stand for her son getting hit by her husband.

Sona knew something was wrong, very wrong, the bad feeling she’s had throughout the pregnancy getting worse every minute. She knew it wasn’t going to be good, whatever it is.

But she knew one thing:

She had to tell Alastair and Cordelia the truth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Hope you guys enjoy this extremely short and mildly angsty chapter that I wrote while having the stomach bug yesterday! Puking your guts out isn’t fun but I guess it made me want to write more so that’s a plus...?

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