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amchara · 2 years

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Herondales Don't Fail: Ch. 1 - The London Institute

Ao3 / 1

Kit Herondale, Ty Blackthorn (Kit/Ty), original characters

Wordcount: 5,412 words

Rating: Mature

Summary: It’s been almost five years since an epic line-up of Shadowhunter heroes and their allies closed all the portals to Hell. Now, demons are scarce and the Nephilim are searching for their purpose in this new world. Centurion Ty Blackthorn has been sent to London to investigate a potential new threat, while Kit Herondale has taken up a post helping to rebuild the London Enclave.

Kit was happy to accept the London Institute’s invitation to assist in the rebuilding of the city’s Enclave. But he didn’t count on being blindsided into joining the competition to become its next head - or being hated by most of its inhabitants who assume he’s only there because of his name.

Notes: This is the Kit POV story of "The London Files", which are one-shot or multi-chaptered fics set post-The Wicked Powers. Established Kit / Ty relationship, where they're about 22-23 years old. Set in the same universe as Effortless (Or, the time Kit almost earned an A-Level) but you don't need to read it to follow the story, although it will add a bit more context to Kit's relationships to the OCs (Ade and Ellie) in this fic - basically, they are his school friends from Devon.

You can find the main case file stories here and other stories set in the same verse here. I would suggest also reading 'Weather Change' as it's basically a prologue to this story, although this one can still be read independently.

The morning of his first day at the London Institute Kit woke up with cold feet, morning glory and Ty staring at him like he might burn a hole in his forehead.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” said Ty.

“Good morning too, love,” Kit said, with a groan. His head was intermittently aching and he suddenly remembered last night. He had come back in after his night out dancing with Ellie and had pounced on Ty, who had leapt up from his report-writing in eager reciprocation.

Kit looked down… yep, that was one huge hickey that he had on his left pec. And from previous history, he knew his neck probably looked like a drunk vampire had gotten at him.

Ty’s gaze dropped down to Kit’s fingers searching out his neck. “Don’t worry, we can iratze them before you have to head to the Institute.”

Kit suddenly felt nervous, remembering the day ahead. For comfort, he reached out to trace his finger down Ty’s cheek, from grey eyes framed by darkest eyelashes to his perfect jawline.

Ty closed his eyes. And then in a graceful movement, pulled Kit closer to him in the bed. His lips found Kit’s and they kissed with a tenderness that deepened after a few beats, Ty stroking his hair gently.

Kit broke the kiss reluctantly. “Ty- what time is it?” They’d been in London less than a week and he hadn’t adjusted to the timezone yet.

“5:45. You still have a couple hours before you need to leave,” Ty said, close to his ear, and in his voice, Kit could hear a dark thread promising a very good time in that intervening period. “Especially as you don’t have to drive in L.A. traffic.”

“That is the sexiest thing you’ve said to me in about.... five hours,” Kit said, pressing a quick kiss on Ty’s cheek. Who needed sleep, anyway? Particularly given their recent schedules… Kit would always seize the opportunity.

Ty lifted his head and his lips curved in a smile, eyes gleaming with smugness. “Good, as I still have several things I want to do before you leave this morning.”

He could feel Ty’s fingers tightening in his hair, directing his head back into a more advantageous angle that gave him access again to Kit’s neck, his other hand roaming downwards. Kit bit back a groan, and leaned into Ty’s shoulder.

But a conversation from the previous night right before they had fallen asleep popped into his head. Kit could feel Ty hovering over him, his lips stroking across his throat. He made his decision.

“No,” he said. Ty stopped. Kit’s hands reached up and disentangled Ty’s hand from his hair. “Pretty sure we had a deal last night-”

Ty pulled back, with a small pout on his lips. “I was hoping you’d forgotten about that,” he admitted but a quick, shy glance upwards meant Kit was certain he was going to get his way.

“Oh- you can definitely go back to sucking later on,” Kit told him with a grin, letting his eyes drift downwards suggestively.

Ty smiled enigmatically and he looked at Kit with a sardonic eyebrow raised as if to say - why are you waiting?

Kit responded by rolling so he was on top, straddling him and an incomprehensible noise came from the back of Ty’s throat. He reached up for Kit- but Kit pinned his hands easily over his head and leaned over him, his long hair falling around him and tickling the sides of Ty’s face. “My turn,” he said.

Ty’s expression was of a person accepting their fate. “Okay,” he said, his voice full of desire and slight resignation.

Kit smiled. He would accept the rare victory of Ty Blackthorn giving up control.

An indeterminate time later, and Kit entered the downstairs kitchen, freshly showered and ravenous. He nodded at Anush who was standing and peering over Ty’s shoulder as Ty pointed to something on his laptop screen, talking in a low voice.

Anush was taking notes with fierce speed but managed to nod companionably as Kit crossed the brightly-lit kitchen. They both were dressed in smart trousers and collared shirts, with their Centurion pins flashing in the morning sunlight. “So we’ve considered that they may have stationed part of their network in France?” Kit heard him ask.

“Yes- but,” Ty paused in his explanation. He tilted his head as he watched Kit turn around, pushing up his sleeves, and Kit wistfully admired the sight. Before they arrived in London, it had been almost six months since he had spent more than a day or two alone with Ty. And given their first London patrol and Ty's injuries, Kit was just thankful he had the chance at all to admire Ty in the early morning light.

Admittedly, Anush wasn’t part of his domestic fantasy, but Kit supposed he had to make allowances, given how closely he and Ty worked together as Centurion partners.

But he had paused for too long, and he could see Ty about to ask a question. “You’re both starting early,” Kit said hurriedly, grabbing supplies for breakfast. He eyed the coffee machine with slight betrayal- he had sworn he had programmed it the previous night. Then he sighed - and stretched across the counter to turn the switch on at the wall.

They’d visited the Herondale townhouse on Curzon Street occasionally over the past couple of years - ever since he and Jace had collectively agreed to restore it back to being a liveable home instead of a museum relic - but infrequently enough Kit still sometimes forgot the fact wall sockets in the UK had to be turned on. The coffeemaker gurgled to life.

Ty rolled his eyes, distracted. “I still haven’t gotten the ban on bringing mundane equipment to the office lifted yet so Anush is taking physical notes for our meeting. It’s much less efficient,” he said, annoyance evident in his voice

“Give it time,” Kit said, grinning. “You’ve only been working there for a couple days- once they realise their best Centurion is being asked to do his work with one hand tied behind his back, they’ll lift that laptop ban.”

“Excuse me- TWO best Centurions here,” Anush said jokingly, leaning across the table to grab another thick pile of papers.

Ty gave Kit a small smile as he turned back to his screen. “I hadn’t realised how old-fashioned it would be here,” he said.

“They’re very traditional here still,” Anush agreed with a sigh. “Honestly, if we can get them to listen, it’d make our lives so much easier to use a computer rather than handwritten notes. Plus filing would be digital and super easy,” he said, looking at their stack of paperwork.

He turned back to Kit, who could see his sharp brown eyes scan up and down, a crease forming on his forehead. “Speaking of tradition… today’s your first day at the Institute right, Kit?”

“That’s right,” Kit said, and he narrowed his eyes in return, as he started eating his breakfast. “Something wrong with how I look?”

Anush shrugged as he held his hands up. “Nah, look man, you know I don’t care. But just so you’re aware… from what I’ve gathered in the week I’ve been here, the Centurion office takes its cue from the London Institute. Super traditional.”

Kit raised his eyebrows and looked down at his clothes. The pit in his stomach deepened and he could feel the previously-squashed down anxiety rising. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a small frown cross Ty’s face at Anush’s words.

Kit took a deep breath. “I’ve packed standard issue gear in my bag for training but-” he said, defiantly crossing his arms. “They asked for Kit Herondale, that’s who they’re getting.”

Anush snorted and Ty looked amused. “They’re definitely getting a Herondale,” Anush said.

Kit pasted on a grin. “And who am I to deny them that experience?”

He gulped down the rest of his cereal and poured some fresh coffee into a travel mug. “But- speaking of, I am gonna head out- don’t want to give them any impression other than the one I’m trying to carefully cultivate.” He picked up the bag he had packed the previously evening, silently thanking his previous self for being proactive.

He loped across the kitchen and bent to give Ty a quick kiss. “See you this afternoon for the wraith briefing?” he said and Ty nodded. “And Kit-” his hand tightened on his forearm and Kit picked up on the subtle warning.

Kit squeezed back. “I know- I’ll keep my eye out,” he said.

The mysterious text message they had received the night they arrived in London. The London Institute is rotting from within - tread carefully Herondale.

Sabina was heading down from the armory to grab breakfast, when she came across her sister peeking around the corner of the corridor to the Institute’s entrance.

She took in her sister’s appearance as she approached. Unlike the previous day, there appeared to be fewer scorch marks on Noura’s heavy duty apron she wore over her gear, which suggested that today’s experiments were going well. Or not well. She couldn’t really tell which but so long as Noura continued to avoid Evelyn’s notice for another couple of months until the new Head of Institute was decided, that was the main thing.

Noura spotted her out of the corner of her eye and she waved Sabina over. He’s here, she signed, gesturing towards the front door.

Sabina hurried over. No need for further explanation of who ‘he’ was. The legendary Herondale. And her competition; unless she was wildly mistaken about Evelyn’s meeting this afternoon.

She debated whether to take a look but her curiosity and Noura’s slightly impressed look was worrying… she decided to risk it. She peeked. Noura pulled her away, grinning, to an alcove where they could talk.

“Huh,” Sabina said, facing her sister so Noura could read her lips. “He’s… not what I was expecting.”

She had met Jace Herondale when she had spent a month at the New York Institute, early in her travel year. As a newly Ascended Shadowhunter, and one who had only previously spent time in the old Academy when it came to Shadowhunter society, she hadn’t really felt comfortable exchanging more than brief pleasantries with him, even if he was only a year older.

This Christopher Herondale, part of the group of heroes who had saved the entire Shadow world four years ago, wasn’t exactly built in that mold. Oh- he had the same broad shoulders and blond hair of his cousin but…

“He looks like a Shoreditch hipster,” Noura said, smirking. “Hot.” She feigned wiping her brow.

Sabina rolled her eyes but internally, she agreed at her sister’s succinct summary. Well, the first part at least.

Long hair pulled back into a high bun, dark fitted jeans, paired with an artfully faded t-shirt and converses, a canvas backpack casually slung across his shoulder.... if she hadn’t been otherwise informed, and he wasn’t standing in the entryway and chatting with acting Head of Institute, Roger Stormborn, he could’ve been any mundane she encountered on the Tube. Or as Noura said, a denizen of a certain popular East London bar area. Sabina also could have also sworn she spotted several ear piercings. Definitely not the traditional Shadowhunter look.

She grudgingly admitted her sister’s second observation was also true. This Herondale was easy on the eyes. But Sabina had long ago learned how to adjust her internal hotness calibration for Shadowhunters- especially the long-lineaged Shadowhunter families, otherwise she wouldn’t have made it through the Academy.

Plus, the fact that they were often assholes helped.

She wasn’t sure if there was as much of a glow-up for Ascended Shadowhunters (though Noura had certainly attempted to quantify it via their skincare routine pre- and post-Ascension). But she did admit certain old Shadowhunter families seemed to have something of the ‘je ne sais quoi’ about their features. Even for…

“Sabina!” A familiar Scottish baritone voice called from across the hallway. Jacob gave her a friendly smile, as he sought her out. “How is the armoury inventory coming along?”

“I’m on break, Dearborn,” Sabina said, with a polite nod. “But it’s coming along. How is library archiving?”

“Fascinatingly actually- if you’re going to the dining hall I’ll catch you up on-”

“I’m actually catching up with Noura so…” Sabina interrupted. She watched as his beautiful blue eyes slid across to her sister. “Of course- I’ll see you at training later,” he said, nodding to them both as he took his leave.

Noura grinned at her sister and arched a questioning eyebrow, which Sabina ignored. She concentrated on the matter at hand. “What do you think people’s reactions are going to be?” she asked reluctantly, returning to the matter at hand.

“Evelyn is going to freak out when she sees him. You know- she’s like, all ‘ra rah we’re Shadowhunters and need to hold ourselves to higher standards. I doubt she’ll be a fan, even if he is a Herondale,” Noura said, her dark eyes dancing with glee. “I’d be more worried about lover boy as your competition- but even then,” she shrugged, waving dismissively at Jacob’s retreating back.

Sabina bumped her shoulder. “Ugh- do not start,” she said. But she did feel faintly reassured; she trusted her sister’s intuition. Noura pushed back a strand of her short, black hair as it fell in front of her eyes, watching Sabina straighten up. She nodded in the direction of the Herondale. “Should we go and introduce ourselves?”

Kit sucked in a breath as he leapt backwards and out of reach of the broadsword that Jack- no, Jacob was swinging towards him. He hefted his own sword and spun around in an economical half-twist. With brute force, he angled his blade close to the opposing hilt, forcing his opponent to grunt and step back.

Starting Shadowhunter training so late meant he was never going to achieve the sleek fluidity Emma, Ty and others had, which made close combat look so easy. But he had compensated for it with other strategies- pure strength and well-

He saw his opportunity and kicked out towards Jacob’s ankle, trying to force him off-balance to get under his guard. He grinned at the shock on Jacob’s face, which quickly turned into a scowl as Kit gained the upper hand in their one-on-one.

He could hear murmurings from the small group gathered on the side of the stuffy training room hall, watching them.

He also heard Jem’s warning voice in his head. Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should, Kit and Emma’s dry voice when he pulled out his more unorthodox moves - save those tricks for the actual demons and work on your form when you’re sparring

But he also heard the echo of Jace’s advice when Kit told him his plans to move to London. You have one chance to make a first impression, so make it count

Kit’s fighting style was messy, dirty and… mundane. But effective, he thought grimly, gritting his teeth as he swung around and tapped Jacob under his armpit in what would’ve been a killing or heavily wounding blow if they were fighting for real. Given Jacob’s last name - Kit decided he wasn’t going to lose sleep if he fought a bit underhandedly to win against a Dearborn.

Jacob’s eyes widened and he held his arms up. “I yield,” he said, stepping back. He gave Kit a considering look, as another of the London Institute’s Shadowhunters stepped into the training circle.

The Institute tutor, Sabina Burakgazi had been one of the first residents Kit had met- alongside her sister, who was also standing on the sideline. In contrast to Noura’s enthusiastic greeting, she had been quiet and reserved, her fine-boned face polite and distant as she greeted him. Even in the training briefing she had given when he joined the afternoon session, she hadn’t given any indication she was seeing him as anything other than an additional body, which Kit was grateful for.

Sabina stepped into the circle and Kit took the opportunity to do a quick pre-sparring evaluation. A few years older and a few inches shorter than him, dressed neatly in gear, with hair pulled back and held in a beige-coloured turban wrap, Sabina looked more ballet dancer than fierce warrior. But Kit knew that delicacy was likely deceptive. As she sauntered up, he was reminded of nothing more than the leopards that had watched him and Ty warily when they had last visited the San Diego zoo.

“We’ll finish up here for the time being, Herondale,” she said. Her brown eyes flickered up and down in a business-like fashion, pausing briefly on his left wrist, which was aching slightly. He resisted the urge to rub it.

Assessing. Like most Shadowhunters did when they learned his name- wanting to see one of the famous Herondale line in action, although Sabina was more subtle than most. Not that he blamed her.

And at least most London Institute inhabitants seemed far enough removed from the front lines of the final battles to understand his role in them so there were more curious looks, in contrast to the pitying or scared looks he sometimes got when he visited the NY Institute. Evelyn’s invitation had been short and to the point- and while it had specifically requested him, there had been an oddly impersonal tone to it. Kit was hoping it might actually mean that London would be a good fit. Where he could be just an average Shadowhunter.

Figure out if it was actually what he wanted.

“We’ve been summoned to Evelyn’s office,” Sabina told him, holding up the fire message in hand before turning away, clearly expecting him to follow.

Kit wiped the sweat off his brow, and looked down at his gear. “Without changing?”

“Believe me, you do not want to keep her waiting,” Noura called out, and Kit could see a couple of the other young trainees laugh nervously.

“Noted,” he said. He held out a hand to Jacob, wondering what his opponent would make of it. Jacob just clasped it briefly and said: “Good match.”

“You’re to come along too, Dearborn,” Sabina said, her mouth twisting slightly when she said his name.

Kit noted Jacob’s face fell fractionally but he nodded, laying down his sword and flattening down his already perfect head of chestnut-brown hair.

They both hurried after her.

Evelyn Highsmith - the regal Head of the London Institute sat in a high-backed chair in a corner, away from the bright August daylight streaming in and illuminating dust motes in the air.

Despite her advanced age, she stood to greet them with only a slight lean on her eagle-headed cane. Kit vaguely remembered her from the whirlwind visit to London seven years ago. It had been the summer his father died, he met the Blackthorns - he found a place with the twins - and everything in his life changed irrevocably.

He wasn’t sure she remembered him but her hooded, rheumy blue eyes watched him closely as he filed in after Sabina, Jacob following.

The other two Shadowhunters took a sort of soldier’s ‘at-ease’ position in front of her, and Kit tried to imitate them, feeling awkward about it. In L.A. Helen and Aline didn’t stand on ceremony, and in New York, Jace and Clary’s style could be loosely called ‘chaotic coordination’ but clearly - as Anush had mentioned - things were more traditional here.

Evelyn sat down, and pulled out several folders, clearing her throat. A soft snick of the door and the acting Head, Roger Stormborn entered, muttering apologies for the lateness. He moved to stand behind Evelyn’s chair, facing the three of them. Kit didn’t know entirely what the dynamic was there. Evelyn was in her ninth decade, Jace had told him, and should have stepped down years ago, but had refused to, particularly in the aftermath of the Dark War, and then the mess with the Princes of Hell and portals. Stormborn had been the de facto head for day to day activities.

Not much was known about Roger- he seemed steady enough, if thoroughly unremarkable, according to Clary’s internal notes on the heads of Institutes.

“Ms. Burakgazi,” Evelyn began by reading the first folder. “Top of your year at the academy, unusual for a mundane student. Ascended in 2012. Travel year with the New York, Buenos Aires and Jakarta Institutes and a secondment to Sydney. Joined full time with the London Institute and you’ve been with us for - five years now?” Sabina nodded. “Named Institute tutor last year, following Amanda Cartright’s retirement.”

Evelyn turned to Jacob. “Mr. Dearborn. From the Strathclyde Dearborns - your family has been attached to the Edinburgh Institute for five generations, including several heads…” Jacob stood up taller, if that was even possible, Kit thought. “Travel year included time at the Stockholm, Vienna and Moscow Institutes. Then back to Edinburgh. You were acting head at the Winnipeg Institute for two years before the decision was made to close it and transfer remaining Shadowhunters to Calgary. At which point, you asked for a transfer to London, where you’ve been assisting us in archiving the London Institute’s history.”

Evelyn’s gaze moved to Kit, and he willed himself not to reveal his apprehension. Whatever was written in her file on that, he reminded himself, it would likely only be half of the truth. If that.

“Mr. Herondale. A late discovery of your Shadowhunter heritage and Herondale name at age fifteen. You had a brief stay with the Blackthorns of the L.A. Institute before Jem Carstairs and the warlock Tessa Gray were made your guardians.” As she chose to only refer to Tessa’s warlock nature and not her Shadowhunter background, Kit suddenly remembered Evelyn’s disdain for Kieran and Magnus.

“Despite their limited ties to our Institutes and society, you still completed your training. Sometime during this period, it was also discovered that you were the ‘First Heir’ - a Shadowhunter/Faerie hybrid, who was-” Here, Evelyn looked down to read carefully. “Meant to bring the Faerie Realm under Shadows.” Kit could feel Jacob and Sabina try not to look at him at this stage.

“Despite your Fae heritage-” Kit tried not to bristle “-in 2015, you joined your cousin Jace Herondale, and Clary Fairchild’s quest to Faerie to defeat the Princes of Hell, which of course, as we all know- led to the interdimensional gates closing.” Evelyn droned on. “In the preceding years, you’ve visited a number of Institutes, although none for an appreciable amount of time. No travel year mentioned.”

“I had a mundane travel year-” Kit interrupted. Evelyn looked up in surprise, spectacles sliding down her nose. “I beg your pardon?”

“I er- spent a year in the mundane world, after the gates closed,” Kit said, defensively.

“Well, that certainly explains the attire,” Evelyn said dryly, pausing to give him another unimpressed once-over. “Although not the persisting in its wearing.”

“Since then I’ve taken on several missions to the Seelie and Unseelie Courts. And spent extended time at the L.A. and New York Institutes.” Kit tried to keep his voice even.

“Yes,” Evelyn said slowly, her gaze scrutinizing him once again before returning the paper. “You come very highly commended from those Institutes’ Heads.”

She closed Kit’s file and then cleared her throat. “I imagine you all know why you’re here.”

Absolutely not a fucking clue , Kit thought, wondering why she had pulled the three of them out of training to basically read back their Shadowhunter resumes to them. Particularly him, given he had only arrived this morning. As far as he knew, he was an extra body, helping rebuild what used to be Europe’s largest Enclave but currently held mainly Shadowhunters a year or two out of their travel year. He snuck a glance to Sabina and Jacob, who both looked pale but determined.

Roger came forward, a troubled look on his face. With a sinking stomach, suddenly a suspicion formed in Kit’s mind. “My health is no longer strong enough to run such an important Institute. I’ve been afflicted with a mundane illness that is proving troublesome for the Silent Brothers to treat outside the Basilias, and I can no longer put off the treatment needed,” said Stormborn.

“Sabina, Jacob, Christopher,” He nodded at each of them. “You will be working together to run the Institute until December, and at that point- Evelyn will decide which of you will be the next Head.”

Kit had thought years of therapy had cured him of the urge to run anymore. But it still seemed that the Shadow World could throw him curveballs to spur that habit.

“Christopher, stay behind please.” Evelyn’s voice was brusque.

Having half-expected the request, Kit returned to his previous spot and watched as the others filed out.

Evelyn was writing and he studied the old, dingy paintings of Shadowhunters cutting down swathes of Downworlders behind the large desk as he waited for her attention to turn to him and to get his own swirling emotions under control.

“Welcome to London, Mr Herondale. I imagine this meeting was something of a surprise to you,” she said finally.

Kit resisted the urge to shrug. “I imagine seeing how I reacted was useful in some way to you.” If this was going to be how she wanted to play it, he wasn’t going to dissemble. He had seen Aline and Helen use this tactic in L.A. and - come to think of it, other Blackthorns- use the tactical withhold of information in order to throw someone off guard.

There was a tiniest twitch of her lips, as she nodded. “Perhaps.”

In your invitation, you didn’t even hint at wanting me to be Institute Head- you lured me here under false pretenses, he thought. But he didn’t voice it outloud. He thought about his next few words carefully, trying to figure out how to best sell his objections while still communicating he wanted to remain in London. Close to Ty. “It seems a risk though, bringing in an outsider like myself who doesn’t know your practices and… traditions.”

He watched her carefully, wondering if she might give clues as to why she chose him as a candidate.

She pursed her lips. “You’re a Shadowhunter, Christopher-”

“-Kit.”

“And you’ve gone through the standard training-”

“You mentioned my Fae heritage,” Kit said, trying to salvage the conversation. “Does that not disqualify me?” A slight stiffening of her shoulders was her tell - as he suspected- his ties to Downworlders did bother her.

There was a narrowing of her eyes. “As much as I hate to admit it, times have changed - and it hardly prevented the appointment of Helen Blackthorn to the L.A. Institute, did it?”

Kit tried to backpedal. “I meant-”

“And from what I understand- it’s hardly a concern anymore, hmmm? No further claims to the thrones of Faerie, due to the loss of that magic.” Evelyn tapped the folder, her gaze steely.

Kit froze, pushing down unwanted memories. Ash’s desperate, slipping grip as Kit transferred everything, every powerful jolt of magic, a legacy he never wanted, in order to save him and heal Faerie.

“I – no, I don’t have further claims to Faerie thrones,” he said roughly.

He lifted his eyes. “But frankly, I’m not a suitable candidate for running this Institute, Ms. Highsmith.’

“Let myself and Roger come to that conclusion. You’re a Herondale who has survived missions that would’ve killed most Shadowhunters. You have a lot to recommend,” Evelyn said, a tone of finality entering her voice. “And your unorthodox background might just be what this Institute needs.”

Her gaze raked briefly over him. “That being said, I expect you to look like a proper Shadowhunter, Christopher. Including the hair. Starting tomorrow,” she said, turning back to her papers.

Kit heard the dismissal. He nodded and turned on his heels, exiting, frantically recalibrating everything he had thought about London, and what this post might mean.

“Stormborn is retiring? That’s unexpected.” Jace’s voice sounded surprised on the other end of the phone.

Kit scrubbed his face as he paced the length of the courtyard, ending up underneath the gate, just before the noisiness of the mundane world intruded. He had debated who to call post-Evelyn meeting (he wanted to tell Ty in person) and he figured Jace might’ve had some inkling about this. And if that was the case, Kit was going to kill him for letting him walk in unprepared.

“Yep. End of the year. And somehow he and Evelyn have decided that I, of all people, am somehow one of the suitable candidates to run the Institute.”

“Well-”

“Fuck no ,” Kit hissed. “Jace. I told you- that’s not what I wanted, coming to London.”

“Hey, fair enough- and I didn’t give that reference thinking you’d be handed the reins of the Institute.” Jace’s voice was conciliatory. “Especially on your first day. But you know…”

“If you mentioned the Herondale name, I will hang up,” Kit threatened.

Jace laughed. “You said it, not me. What can I say- attention and authority just flows to us, Christopher. You might as well embrace it.”

“I’m 22, no way in hell should anyone be putting me in charge of anything,” Kit said. “No wonder the Institutes are floundering if they keep putting inexperienced idiots in charge.”

There was a brief silence on the phone and Kit closed his eyes, remembering. “I mean- I’m referring to myself. It was different for you and Clary.”

Jace let out a small chuckle. “You’re closer to the mark than you think. I’m referring to myself of course, not my darling wife. Yes-” In the background Kit could hear Clary’s voice.

“Anyway, you’re also less of an idiot than you think and I say this having gone with you on patrol after eating two plates of Izzy’s cookies…” Jace’s voice softened. “See how it goes. It’s not like it’s being handed to you on a silver platter. And okay, you don’t like being reminded of it but c’mon- you could’ve gone to practically any Institute- but you chose London? Where Herondales have a long history of running the Institute?” Jace’s voice was skeptical. “Evelyn probably had to add you to the running list to fulfill tradition.”

Kit luckily had a good comeback to that point. “I only came to be closer to Ty, now that he’s been reassigned. And anyway I still think they’re wrong,” he muttered. “Also- f tradition. Everyone keeps saying London’s traditional. So far it looks like it’s where fashion comes to die.”

“That’s Old World Institutes for you.” He could practically hear Jace’s grin. “My advice - give it a month or two. If you’re still thinking it’s not for you after that, endorse another candidate. I’m sure they’d appreciate the support.”

Kit remembered the wary glances Jacob and Sabina had given him, as they left Evelyn’s office. “Not sure about that...”

There was a pause and Kit tensed, wondering if he was going to get a further ‘Herondale name legacy’ spiel.

But Jace was wiser and didn’t bother, likely anticipating how it’d land with Kit. “You know you’re welcome any time to come to NY again. Anyway, gotta go- Jossy is grabbing at my dagger and Clary is glaring at me.”

“Yeah, I have to go too,” Kit said, looking at his phone’s clock. “Ty and the other Centurions are arriving soon to give a briefing on the wraith attacks.”

“Now, that I am interested in-” Jace said, his voice suddenly infused with the Institute Head authority that he could turn on instantly. “Send me a message if there’s anything new to report.”

“You mean, anything juicy that’s not in the official dispatches,” Kit countered.

“In your new role you’ll be writing a lot of those official dispatches,” Jace reminded him. “But also, yes.”

“Will do,” Kit said. Then he remembered the ominous text message- but he and Ty had decided to wait until they had more solid evidence and he decided to keep it to himself for now. Other than this surprising news, there weren’t any immediate red flags that he could point to at the Institute- but then again, maybe this competition would help them both figure out where the message came from, and what it referred to.

Either way, his arrival at the London Institute was not going the way he thought it would.

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#tsc fanfiction #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #kit x ty #the wicked powers #post canon #established relationship #casefile #mystery stories #the dark artifices #secrets of blackthorn hall #my fanfic #alicantenet

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amchara · 2 years

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Herondales Don't Fail: Ch. 2 - Interview with a Vampire

Ao3 / 1 / 2

Kit Herondale, Ty Blackthorn (Kit/Ty), original characters

Wordcount: 5,281 words (this chapter)

Rating: Mature

Sabina watched as the rest of the Shadowhunters filed into the Sanctuary. They filled one side of it, while the few Downworld representatives filled the other side.

She frowned as she counted - fewer attending than last time they had called a Downworlder-Shadowhunter meeting. She couldn’t see any of the vampire heads, and only one of the two werewolf alphas - the Hampstead Heath alpha was missing. As was the Shadow Market warlock representative, Hypatia Vex. No Seelie or Unseelie folk but that was less of a surprise, given the near-devastation of Faerie they were still rebuilding from- fewer of them ventured from their lands these days. But still these wraith sightings were a matter of importance. She made a note to check with Roger after the meeting to find out why so few had accepted the Institute’s invite.

Noura nudged her. “What are you looking so worried about?” she signed.

“Nothing,” Sabina told her, settling back into the cold marble of the pew. A few rows ahead, she spotted Jacob chatting with one of the local warlocks, gesturing excitedly. She vaguely remembered him telling her he was arranging interviews with all the elder warlocks in the city, to crosscheck certain aspects of the Institute’s archives. Maybe he’d also know why so few Downworlders chose to attend.

Slightly to the left, she could see Herondale sitting slumped, looking vaguely discontent. He had seemed to have been knocked off-kilter by his inclusion in Evelyn’s competition, almost as if he hadn’t been expecting it. Which she found hard to believe. But Kit straightened up as one of the Centurions - a dark-haired, tall younger man with striking features - strode purposely down towards the centre of the dais. Sabina knew most of the European office’s Centurions- Marcus Pangborn was already there, preparing the Institute’s ancient projector, but she didn’t recognise this Centurion. He handed Pangborn some papers, before falling back in line behind him.

“Good afternoon,” Marcus had drawn on an amplify rune, and his voice echoed in the large Sanctuary. “Thank you all for joining us today - and let us begin this briefing.”

He took them through the basics of what they already knew about the wraiths. Appearing three months ago, they had been spotted mainly on patrols covering London’s East End and the City- including one less than a block away from the London Institute. Beside her, Sabina saw Noura suddenly shiver, as if someone had walked over her grave. Sabina gave her a concerned look - Noura didn’t often join active patrols, and she didn’t think her sister had seen a wraith up close yet - but Sabina held out a quick handclasp for comfort, as they studied the projections of blurred yellow-grey figures together.

It was hard to get an accurate count, Marcus said, but their best intel was there were at least five of the creatures. The origin of what they were currently calling ‘wraiths’ was also unknown - various Centurions had attempted to communicate with them, with no success so far. While initially the wraiths had fled on approach, others stood their ground and one had attacked Centurion Blackthorn - the new Centurion beside Marcus - who stepped forward to give an account.

“I was tailing it and it appeared harmless until I had it cornered. I flew through a window without it physically touching me,” said the Centurion, his light-coloured eyes grave. “It appears to have some kind of magical ability but unfortunately, I was unable to determine anything further around it due to my injuries.”

Having first appeared in the spring, over the course of the summer they had only grown more frequent in sighting and in boldness. The Centurions believed it was only a matter of time before they began attacking other passerbys- whether that was mundanes or Downworlders, Pangborn said solemnly.

“Are they a new type of demon?” asked the Wanstead Flats pack’s alpha, a no-nonsense woman with short brown hair, who was frowning. Sabina remembered the pack’s territory extended into Stratford and East Ham, not far from where the wraith sightings had been. Not far from where her and Noura had grown up.

There were murmurs throughout the Sanctuary at the question. Demon attacks had dwindled over the past few years, a welcome side effect from the sealing of dimensional portals. Some predicted it would mean the redundancy of Shadowhunters eventually…but in Sabina’s experience and time patrolling, at least in London there were still more than enough demon nests and ongoing effects of the Dark War’s decimation of Shadowhunters to make that only a dim future possibility.

“As of present, we don’t know-” another Centurion - Divya Joshi - stepped forward. “We haven’t had enough encounters with them to conclude that, although it would be highly unlikely. We are advising all Enclave members to carry both seraph and non-seraph weapons in the meantime,” she answered.

If it were a new type of demon, it would offer more questions about whether all gates were closed… Sabina saw a few sober looks exchanged between Centurions, and she thought they might have similar worries.

“And as for Downworlders?” Hypatia Vex’s voice echoed through the chamber, as she spoke from the back of the room, her violet-coloured jumpsuit standing out from the sea of Shadowhunter black. She must’ve entered late, thought Sabina. Always one for a dramatic entrance, Hypatia.

“We would ask you to be on guard, and let us know when and where you spot the wraiths. Do not try to engage them- we will take on that responsibility.”

“And if you need help containing one?” Hypatia lifted one finely-plucked eyebrow.

“I’m sure we will find enough in our coffers to get the best assistance from London’s premier warlocks,” Roger said smoothly, from where he was sitting beside Evelyn on the dais.

Hypatia shrugged gracefully. “You know where to find us,” she said.

There were a few minutes of further questions from the Downworld representatives before they filed out of the Sanctuary. The Shadowhunter-only portion of the debrief commenced, with Roger and Marcus explaining the joint plan to tackle the threat between the London Institute and the Centurion office.

As the meeting broke up, Sabina pulled out a patrol rota. Roger had asked her to draw up a new one that afternoon- one she’d have to run by the others.

Extra patrols, starting from tomorrow. It would be a further strain on their resources, given the inexperience of many of Enclave members and the recent loss of yet another family who originally found refuge in London, post-closure of Idris by the Cohort. The Andales family had finally made their way back to their homeland, homesick and unable to adjust to life outside of Idris, although Louise and Cristoph had promised they could be called upon if the Institute ever needed them. It was the fifth family in two years, Sabina remembered ruefully.

At least she had Herondale to add. He looked like he could handle himself in a fight, remembering his bout with Jacob. No matter what she personally thought of him as her competition to be Institute Head, Raziel knew they could take all the help they could get for patrols, especially with this unknown wraith threat.

She scanned the sanctuary to see if he was still around and saw him making a beeline for the tall Centurion - Tiberius Blackthorn - who he gave a quick kiss on the cheek to, and then casually slipped his hand into his pocket. Blackthorn went slightly red but also pulled Kit closer in a familiar gesture before returning to his conversation with a few of the other Centurions.

Sabina raised her eyebrows. Interesting. It made no difference to her but selfishly, she wondered if Evelyn knew about Kit’s partner, given Evelyn’s old-fashioned morals - and if it might be another negative strike against him (or if she’d just be glad his partner was at least another Shadowhunter.) Then, ashamed of herself, she concentrated back on her rota. She wanted the Institute position but she wanted it honorably, Sabina told herself firmly.

Ty’s face was a study of concentration, as he absorbed Kit’s recounting of his time so far at the Institute. Finished with their respective duties for the day, they had wandered a few blocks away from the Institute and were close to Blackfriars bridge, overlooking the busy Thames.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Ty said. The wind was strong enough to whip around his short hair and he brushed his hands in front of him on the railing.

Kit sighed. “I know.” He set his bag down against the guardrail, looking out to the railway bridge.

Ty shook his head. “I mean- not the part about your invitation to join the competition. Lineages are important to Shadowhunters. Herondales have frequently run the London Institute and Evelyn is old enough that she might’ve even been around when James Herondale was Head.” He looked over at Kit. “She might have thought you’d be offended if you weren’t invited.”

“If only she knew me and how unlikely that was.” Kit was slightly put out that Ty was making the same points as Jace.

Ty shrugged. “She doesn’t know you though,” he pointed out. “Or-” and here, Kit could see the wheels turning in Ty’s head. “Maybe she does in some way. Because she asked for you personally to come to the Institute but didn’t mention the acting head was standing down. So maybe she didn’t know it at the time?” he hypothesised. “Or she wanted you to come to the Institute without scaring you off. She wants you for something.”

“Then she could’ve explained that in our one-to-one meeting afterwards. But she was just cryptic!” Kit thought back to their conversation. “She mentioned my unorthodox background and how it might be what the Institute needs. But it’s not like I can draw on the First Heir powers anymore.” He sighed and leaned forward, looking over the grey water and clouds.

Ty frowned. “True.” He tapped his fingers lightly on the stone railing they were leaning against. “It doesn’t add up.”

“You’re right it doesn’t,” Kit said. “There are sketchy things going on for sure.”

“Yes- and now we have another clue. I’m not sure it’s all coincidence. While you were there, did you get any indication who might’ve sent you the text message?” Ty asked, his eyes gleaming with interest. “It could’ve been from her - maybe Evelyn felt she couldn’t tell you- ”

Kit snorted. “Doubt it. The telegraph was probably the last mundane communication tool she’s aware of. But otherwise, not a clue.” The sun broke through suddenly, shining in his eyes. He turned his back away from the river, feeling irritated from the whiplash of the day’s events. “Anyway- it’s all a bit of a fucking mess- wish we’d never got that stupid text, and I’m beginning to regret ever agreeing to the invite.”

He sighed heavily. Part of him knew he was being dramatic. But given all the reminders he’d had today, he thought he could wallow in the Herondale family’s favourite pastime for once.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ty’s fingers pause, and then he said in a more tentative voice. “Are you- do you want to leave London, Kit?”

“No, of course not!” Kit said, turning back to his boyfriend. He reached out for Ty’s hand, taking comfort from the feeling of rough calluses and the quiet strength he drew from it. “I just thought this could be an easy thing for once, yeah? You and I- finally living together in the same city. Just doing normal things, for once- or whatever counts as Shadowhunter normal routines. Without having to solve a mystery or go on a secret mission or save the whole fucking world.”

“We don’t have to take it on ourselves-” Ty said, after a moment. He squeezed Kit’s hand. “We could tell Julian. Or send a message to Alec. Or even just to Helen and Aline, or Jace and Clary - tell them what we found. We could let the Clave handle it.”

Kit took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. It was true. This time- they didn’t have to be the only ones to deal with it alone. “Are you saying you want to step away from a mystery?”

He looked up to see Ty shake his head but there was a soft look in his eyes. “No. And I don’t think you do either. But I have my Centurion investigation into the wraiths and I have to concentrate on that. So most of this investigation at the Institute would be on your time but I’d still help where I could.”

“Right- ‘course,” Kit said. He took a moment to collect his thoughts. Ty let him- despite the months they spent apart, they still had an easy familiarity and knew when to give each other the space.

“Okay. Fine- I don’t want to leave London. And despite today’s bombshell, I’m intrigued and want to get to the bottom of whatever is going on. But I also think you’re right- we should at least tell Julian when we visit for dinner in a few days, just as back-up.” It didn’t hurt to have the Inquisitor knowing the plans and giving tentative agreement to a backdoor assignment, in case it all went south.

Ty’s slight smile widened. “Sounds like a sensible plan, Watson,” he said.

Kit interlaced their fingers and tugged Ty closer, similar to how they had embraced in the sanctuary. But here, instead of being surrounded by Shadowhunters - where Kit had learned to ignore the stares - they were an anonymous couple, not even noticed by the crowds of people, who all filtered past them.

Kit relished it, and he fully gave into the kiss.

“Also- sorry I made this all about me,” he said with a small laugh, when he drew back. “I didn’t even ask how your day was- and how the investigations are going?”

“I’ll catch you up,” Ty promised. He reached into his leather satchel to pull out his notebook, flipping to a specific page. “But first, I thought you’d want to know- I had an opportunity to research what kind of vampire glamour was on Ade, when we saw him last. Looks like a traditional encanto . I think if we head back to the hospital, we should be able to track down the vamp who cast it on him.”

Kit thought about it - a chance to solve one of the many mysteries they’d encountered since arriving in the city and a chance to keep one of his few remaining mundane friends safe from the Shadow World? “Absolutely- let’s go now,” he said. “We can catch the tube just a few minutes from here.”

Ty looked like he might protest at Kit’s sudden eagerness but then he shrugged and with a resigned sound followed as Kit pulled him towards the busy underground station.

“That’s the vampire?” Kit pitched his voice low.

Ty gave him a strange look at the obvious question. “Yes, it appears that’s her,” he said, returning his gaze to the scene in front of them, and the two figures sitting at the far back. “Why?”

“I just- nevermind,” Kit replied. Given his Shadow Market experience, the fact he had also visited the Hotel Dumort with Jace and had met a number of Lily’s clan, alongside the occasional rogue one that had required Shadowhunter intervention… he should by now know to not judge a vampire by their appearance. She didn’t look dangerous though but that might not count for much.

“What’s our plan here?” he asked, knowing Ty had had more experience in these types of situations, as Centurions often dealt with the more dangerous rogue Downworlders.

They were in mundane clothes, avoiding glamour for Ade’s sake, given he didn’t have the Sight. Standing right outside the hospital’s ground floor coffee shop and unfortunately, Kit also knew what the scene would look like to outsiders. Two muscular, tattooed white dudes, sitting down with a tall, Nigerian-English doctor, and a petite South Asian woman, who looked like another medical professional… a descent into a fight would not be a good look, to put it mildly. But at the same time, neither would be letting the vampire continue to prey on Ade.

Ty considered, his eyes narrowing . “It looks like they’re just talking so I don’t think we need to go in hot,” he said. “But if she’s rogue, it could turn messy. We’d have to neutralise her quickly- and in front of mundanes too.” He outlined the quick plan that was the usual Centurion protocol.

Despite his words, he looked calm, and Kit remembered Ty telling him about his classes at the Scholomance - the Downworld Relations course that used to be called ‘Interrogation’, and Kit felt his skin crawl briefly. He hoped it wouldn’t be a rogue situation but he also knew Ade- and how despite all his years of friendship with Kit- had always managed to stay away from getting involved in the Shadow World. Until now.

Kit thumbed over his concealed dagger that he always wore underneath his mundane clothes, tracing the heron pattern. “Let’s try to keep it peaceful.”

Ade’s warm brown eyes went from welcoming to worried when Kit sat down beside him. “Kit- what’s up- hey Ty- how come you’re both back here again so soon?” Ade knew that Kit had broken several Shadowhunter rules by bringing Ty to the hospital on the night of the wraith attack.

“Hey Ade, nah- we’re fine,” Kit said, trying to keep an easygoing smile on his face.

“I should go-” across from them the vampire started to rise, sudden distrust on her face but Ty quickly put a hand on her shoulder, directing her back down onto the seat. She recoiled from his touch, and a distasteful look crossed her face as she caught a glimpse of Ty’s Voyance rune. “ Nephilim.”

Despite the fact he’d had years to get used to it and the fact it more often directed against him - Kit couldn’t help but flinch at the tone in which it was said.

Ty had quickly withdrawn his hand from the vampire and his face was a mask. “I think we have a few matters to discuss before you do.”

Beside him, Kit could feel Ade tense, uneasiness crossing his face. He hoped he wasn’t going to have to tackle his friend- but if Ade was well on his way to becoming a subjugate- then he’d be protective over anyone who touched his sire.

Ade shifted in his seat, his sharp gaze darting between all three of the Shadow World citizens, But he didn’t move.

Kit let out his breath. “Hey- let’s keep things easy,” he said, trying to keep an even tone. He directed his attention across the table and pointed at himself. “I’m Kit and this is Ty. We just have a couple of questions.”

The woman’s dark eyes glittered in the dim cafe lighting and her red, full lips pulled up in a sneer. “Of course you do, that’s all you Nephilim ever do. Ask questions… take your tithe, before you decide to do whatever you want anyway.” She didn’t offer her name.

“We are sworn to protect mundanes from the Shadow World… especially ones that are brought in unwillingly,” Ty said, his voice deeper and harder than Kit was used to hearing. His Centurion voice. “There are several layers of encantos on Ade - we want to ensure our friend is not being taken advantage of.” There was subtle emphasis by Ty on the word friend.

“She hasn’t drunk my blood,” Ade said flatly- and Kit wasn’t sure if he was relieved or not that Ade knew his new friend was a vampire and that she would’ve probably preferred O+ to the coffee in front of her. Kit surreptitiously glanced at Ade’s neck and wrists- the most common areas for bites. He didn’t see any but he knew from Lily and Jace’s risque banter those weren’t the only place for bites.

Ty and Kit turned to the vampire for confirmation. Her eyes narrowed, and she sat back in her seat, gaze flicking to Ade and back to them. “Of course- that’s why it wasn’t working.” Her voice was warm and deep for a woman, the slight cockney twang melding with another fainter, melodic accent. Ade’s eyes were constantly drawn back to her, his mouth open slightly, and Kit was suddenly worried, despite the absence of bites.

“What wasn’t? The encanto ?” Kit asked, noticing that she wasn’t exactly denying her involvement with Ade. “Why were you bespelling him then?”

Ade spoke up again. “Relax, mate. Maryam and I work in the same department sometimes- and I know she’s a vampire because... I’ve walked in before at an inopportune time?” he directed the question at Maryam, and weirdly, they both looked away, almost in embarrassment.

“Several times,” the vampire - Maryam - muttered, and she pulled her coffee in front of her, almost as if warming her hands. She looked up. “The truth, Shadowhunters, is no, I have not drunk his blood, nor have I been seeking him out for that purpose,” she said steadily. “But he kept seeking me out during times that revealed my true nature. I had tried several encantos to keep him away. They kept failing.”

The uneasiness Ade’s face deepened, Kit thought, but he didn’t say anything further.

“But why?” Ty’s voice was puzzled. “He doesn’t have the Sight.”

“At a guess- it’s likely due to you two,” she said, gesturing at Kit and Ty. At the blank look on their faces, she let out a short, sarcastic laugh. “He’s your friend, correct? How long has he known your secret? How often have you dropped your glamours in front of him?”

Kit felt his stomach drop. “You mean- he’s developing the Sight. Because of us.”

“Barghast’s principle,” Ty said to himself, and he shook his head, looking thoughtful. “It’s a rare side effect- but it can happen to mundanes.”

“Whoa, whoa-” Ade put his hands in front, making a cutting sign. “Back up- everyone. What the hell is happening to me?”

“Nothing major-” Ty reassured him. “But as a side effect of having had brushes with the Shadow World you’re well- you’re gaining more and glimpses of it. Peering through the veil, as it were.”

“So…because I know you both as Shadowhunters- through my exposure, I’m like, gaining immunity to spells that should normally work on me?” Ade said, quickly putting it together. He frowned as Kit and Ty nodded.

“And further able to see certain parts of the Shadow World such as vampires,” Ty repeated, with a sideways glance at Maryam.

“If that answers your questions, Nephilim, then I believe we are done here,” Maryam pushed her chair back. Beside her, Ty was watching carefully but he didn’t try to interfere this time.

“Wait- what are your intentions for him in the future?” Kit demanded. Because Maryam hadn’t exactly promised not to drink Ade’s blood. And while subjugates - human servants - were no longer permitted- vampires were still able to have willing human’s blood. Kit remembered the vampire blood junkies at the L.A. Shadow Market. If Ade was as enamored with her as he looked, Kit wanted to understand what the vampire thought.

She drew up to her full five-foot-nothing height. “I have my own supply sorted,” she said shortly, her body language tense. “I have no need of your friend for that purpose,” she replied. She looked down her nose at them. “But if he’s developed the Sight, he could use someone to help ease that journey into the Shadow World…”

“And that’s you?” Kit asked sarcastically.

“If he wants. You know where to find me.” Her eyes locked onto Ade’s and Kit could see his friend squirm slightly and drop his gaze. “And from my experience, Nephilim are too busy demanding tithes and then leaving the rest of us to clean up your messes.” And with that final cut, she turned and left with a swift preternatural speed.

Beside him, Ade buried his face in his hands. “Mates, that was not on,” he complained.

Kit slumped onto the sofa while Ty bent to greet Irene at the door of the drawing room. “Not our finest hour of sleuthing,” he said, voicing his concerns.

Ty, finishing his ministrations, stood up, making a brief face. “No, not really,” he agreed. “But at least you know she’s not snacking on Ade. So it’s one less thing to worry about.”

The old grandfather clock bonged eight o’clock as he joined Kit on the sofa, pulling his legs across so that Kit was half in his lap, and tugging at Kit’s hair tie, undoing it so he could run his fingers through it. Kit tried his best not to melt from the gentle tugs through his curls. He also knew from previous incidents that it was a useful stim for Ty, particularly when he was trying to work through something.

“Also, there was something else strange during that conversation with the vampire.”

Kit reluctantly opened his eyes. “Other than the fact that she clearly hates Shadowhunters? She could be an old vampire who remembers not only the Cohort and Circle but times before the Accords. Not a surprise she’s not a fan of Nephilim. Us being friendly is a new phenomenon- and we weren’t exactly that tonight.”

“Based on her demeanor and strength of her encantos , I’d say probably only 50 years at oldest,” Ty said. He paused in his stroking, gently winding a long curl of Kit’s around his finger. ”No- it’s the fact she mentioned tithes. Twice. In relation to Nephilim.”

Kit’s mind had been so wrapped up in how he was going to help Ade with his newfound Sight - his friend had had to rush off to start his shift, so they hadn’t had time for a proper debrief - that he hadn’t delved that deeply into the conversation. But now that Ty had mentioned it, it was a strange phrasing. But one he had heard before, just not in relation to Shadowhunters.

“Yeah, tithes are very clearly linked to Faerie lore,” he answered, and Ty nodded confirmation. “I know Kieran and Ash accept some form of them during the most important harvest festivals. But they’re often trinkets or small favours, I thought. Nothing that would beggar or cause resentment among the Fae. But we could ask Ash on the weekend if there’s anything else to it.”

Ty’s eyebrows drew down, and he appeared to be thinking. “Maybe Maryam is older,” he mused. “I wonder if it was some form of payment that used to be demanded by the Institute. I remember reading about similar practices by some Institutes in the Scholomance’s library.”

Kit scoffed. “Like a kind of gangster protection racket?”

“Or a feudal payment?” Ty corrected him.

A buzzing in Kit’s pocket interrupted the conversation. He struggled to sit up to answer his phone, brushing his hair back behind his ears in a way he hoped looked respectable, given the name flashing up on his screen for a video call. .

He smiled at the face on the screen. “Hey Min-Min, you’re up late.”

Mina’s eye blinked and he smothered a smile as he watched while she corrected the orientation to show her sitting on her bed, Tessa beside her.

“It’s still summer, Kit,” she said patiently. “I’m allowed to stay up late, ‘specially if I’m reading a good book.”

Beside her, Tessa looked amused. “That’s not exactly what’s going on tonight,” she told Mina.

Mina shrugged exaggeratedly. “No. We’re wishing you a happy first day at the Institute or something,” she looked at her mum to confirm, which Tessa did.

“Thank you,” Kit replied. “It definitely was a day.”

“Uh oh,” there was a voice offscreen and Jem squeezed onto the bed. “That sounds like a story.”

Kit sighed internally. “I- it’s just. I’m now part of a leadership contest to become the head of the Institute.”

Both Jem and Tessa blinked. Then Mina, unconcerned about Kit’s news, peered closer. “Is Ty there?”

“I am,” Ty replied, and Kit shifted so that he was underneath Ty’s shoulder and Mina could see both of them. “Ty- I have an important question about kittens. Maggie’s doing this thing…” and Ty bent his head to listen patiently as Mina rambled on about her new pet kitten.

While she was doing that, Kit could see Jem and Tessa doing their silent communication between them that they thought he didn’t know about, but he definitely did.

After Ty had explained about the different toys Mina could use for Maggie, Jem interrupted.

“Mina- I think we should let Ty and Kit also get ready for bed- you can call again tomorrow.”

Following Mina and Tessa’s good-byes, Jem took the phone into the hallway, his face falling into shadow as he closed the door.

“You don’t sound very happy about the news, Kit,” he said neutrally.

“I’m not- well, it’s not exactly something I wanted but…” Kit trailed off. “But at the same time- we have suspicions not everything is going smoothly at the London Institute right now, and Ty thinks this might be a good way to get to the bottom of it.”

Jem was silent for a moment, and Kit wished he could see his face to read it. “I hope it’s nothing too serious,” he said, finally. “If it is- you know you can always send us a message and we’ll Portal there instantly.”

“I know that,” Kit reassured him. “But I don’t think this is a requires-former-silent-brother-and-warlock situation. Ty and I can handle it.” Beside him, he could feel Ty tighten his hold on Kit’s non-dominant hand.

“I’m sure you both can,” Jem said, and the strength of conviction behind the statement helped ease the tension in Kit’s shoulders. “Let us know how you get on,” he said gently. “And you know whatever happens at the London Institute, we’re proud of you.”

Kit nodded. He was grateful that Jem didn’t feel the need to add anything further on the topic. “I will. Oh wait- one more thing-” he realised he could check something. “Did the London Institute ever have something called ‘the tithe’?”

Jem had started walking down the stairs and he bounced in and out of the frame as he answered. “Hmm, it doesn’t immediately ring a bell- if there was, it wasn’t when I lived there, or when Tessa and Will led the Institute. But the Institute has extensive archives- perhaps check there,” he suggested.

Kit agreed, and he hung up. He and Ty sat in the darkening room.

“We should get some food, maybe order something,” Kit said. Ty shrugged. Kit leaned over and brushed a kiss on his cheek. “Look- we can’t solve a mystery or mysteries plural, without some proper food- like pizza.”

He saw out of the corner of his eye Ty about to argue semantics. “Endurance runes don’t count. And also, this has been the longest first day ever-”

“I can let you sleep in longer tomorrow,” Ty said, a small smirk crossing his face.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” Kit asked. But he turned so he was properly straddling Ty, letting his hands come to rest close to buttons that he was itching to undo. He looked up through his eyelashes at Ty, knowing their effect.

Ty’s face changed. “Whatever you want it to be,” he said huskily, and his arms encircled Kit, one hand behind the nape of his neck, as he pulled him down into a kiss. Food could wait.

Notes: Things are tough irl at the moment, so there might be space between this and the next chapter. Not sure but just as a heads up.

For more context about certain aspects of this chapter - ie. the first wraith attack where Ty was attacked and the initial suspicion that Ade was being encanto-ed- check out Weather Change. It will also provide some more context for the next chapter too, so I do recommend reading it at some point.

Please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list. :)

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