#some secret of life in clave rhythms that he’s found out

[cam-ryt]

@malectober day 14. I have a hard time keeping up with the prompts because of my horrible schedule, please give me strenght.

Day 14 : Dance

Warnings : Because I love a good rollercoaster of emotions, this one is really cute, but who knows what tomorrow will bring ?

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Alec wasn't very good at dancing, and that despite the hours of training he had done with Magnus in anticipation of their wedding. He was just not familiar with all that it implied, as well as his terrible sense of rythm.

Magnus had given up at some point, favouring fun over technic. They were supposed to have a good time after all and he didn't want Alec to feel pressured at all. He already had so much to worry about everyday, being a competent dancer was not one of his priorities.

So, when he had found out about Alec's little ritual, one week after they had brought their first son Max at home, he had been as surprised as he had been emotional.

It was in the middle of the night, around 4pm. Magnus had waken up to a strange feeling of emptiness around him. Reaching out a hand beside him, he realized that Alec's place was cold. This was not so surprising, as they alternated in giving Max his nightly feeds. What was more was that Magnus had developed a kind of sixth sense for hearing their son's cries at night. Like all young parents, he slept with one ear open, afraid he wouldn't hear him when he needed something. And he hadn't heard Max crying for his bottle.

Slipping out of the warmth of the sheets, he put on his silk robe and silently left the room. There was a dim light on the living room, cutting shadows on the corridor were the warlock was walking quietly. As he approached, he could hear a soft humming coming from the room.

Alec stood in the middle of the living room with their son in his arms. The warlock leaned against the doorframe, hidden in the shadows. His husband was shirtless, and the baby was nestled against his bare chest, sleeping peacefully in his strong arms. Magnus couldn't help but let his gaze drop to the man's sinful hips, exposed by the loose elastic band of his old sweatpants. The soft shadows on his skin delicately outlined the muscles of his back and arms and the warm light made his complexion look like gold. He was truly beautiful. An angelic beauty. But what made his heart melt with fondness was the look on Alec's face. His soft features as he looked as their son, shoulders relaxed, lips curled in a tender smile Magnus wanted to blottle up. He looked nothing like the Consul of the Clave, always so tense, jaw clenched and shoulders stiff as if he carried the weight of the world, which was not entirely wrong.

Sometimes Magnus would have wanted everyone to see Alec as more than just his job. He wanted everyone to know what incredible father and husband he was. And sometimes he was glad to be the only one to witness little things like that.

Alec was slowly dancing around the room, gently rocking Max in his arms while humming a song the warlock couldn't recognize. He was not really dancing, he was slowly swaying to the rhythm of the melody, lost in his own thoughts.

Magnus wondered how long this little ritual had been going on. How many nights Alec had spent in the living room, singing for their son while he was asleep. Alec that had always been so unsure about his feet when they had to dance, and who was now creating his own personnal rythm to share with their son. Maybe he just had to find the right partner.

Everyday, Magnus felt like he couldn't love them more, and everyday they found way to prove him wrong. Sometimes his heart was so full of love he felt like it was about to explode. Discovering Alec's little secret felt just like that.

He watched them for a few more minutes in silence before turning back and going to bed, heart beating faster. Watching Alec grow up as a father was the most wonderful thing Magnus had witnessed in his entire life. He was already crazy about the man, but being able to share the experience of parenthood with him had transformed his love into something so much more powerful. It sometimes felt so much that he didn't have the words to express it, so he stayed quiet and let the feeling melt into him to impregnate each of his cells.

From that day and until Max was able to fall asleep on his own, Magnus would wake up in the middle of the night just to stand in the shadows and watch silently as Alec danced with him.

[shiftperception]

Is having one teacher who’s really obsessed with clave rhythms a universal music student experience or is it just my rhythm training instructor? Cause this is the second or third time he’s dedicated a whole class lecture to explaining them. This isn’t a complaint, just an observation of fact. This dude has said “this one is my personal favorite” three separate times.

[wunderlass]

I Could Fall In Love

For @piccolina-mina, who asked for Maria taking secret salsa lessons and being paired up with one of the guys. In the end, there was only one guy who was going to be taking salsa lessons, so have some Kyluca. 

The interior of La Cortina is smoky when Maria steps inside. Not the stogie kind of smoky, though that will come later when the havanas are passed around after the customers have been sent home. This smoky is all chilies, candles, and wood-fired ovens, just enough to give the small restaurant interior its delicious scent and atmosphere.

This evening the cluster of tables, usually brimming with people filling themselves with Cuban-style tamales and rice, are pushed back to the walls, chairs stacked up to achieve maximum floorspace. The wooden boards are scratched and pitted but only add to the character of the place, and Maria would rather be dancing on those than on unforgiving tile.

She’s not the first to arrive, hanging her coat on the rack beside the door and greeting the people she knows after she pays Soledad her entry money. Mostly the other people here are older---retirees looking for something to keep them active---but there are a few younger couples too.

She’s arrived just in time for Flor to turn on her salsa playlist and park herself at the front of the room, clapping her hands for attention. They all know the drill---grab a partner as Flor leads them through a gentle warm up. Maria waves at Joel, her usual dance partner, who’s getting a rum and coke at the bar.

Joel’s not too heavy on his feet for someone in his sixties but if Maria’s honest, she wants somebody who can keep up with her. There’s little chance of that. Few singles attend, even if she did meet Chad here originally. She grits her teeth and waits for Joel to come to her, even as she circles her hips as Flor instructs, letting the tension ease out of her body.

Dancing is her happy place. Singing is one thing, but to sing about your troubles is to be reminded of your troubles. There’s nothing of that in dancing---only her and the clave, and whoever is leading her across the dancefloor. She can shut reality out and pretend she’s in a bar in Santiago de Cuba with nothing more pressing to worry about than the beat. It’s a way of working energy out of her body, the impulse to move channeled into something achievable, something that isn’t running far and wide into a world she’s never seen, until she is tired enough to go home and sleep and not feel trapped in this dusty corner of civilization.

When the tap on the shoulder comes, Joel is still weaving his way through the small crowd. It’s somebody else entirely who asks “May I?” from behind her.

Maria spins at the sound of the voice, one she knows but can’t place. Not right away.

She knows the face too, though it’s been years since she’s seen it. It’s familiar in many ways and changed in more, thinned out so the cheekbones have become sharp enough to strike a match on, scruff lining an equally keen jaw, hair sprinkled with the first hints of silver.

“Kyle Valenti?” she asks, hands finding her hips, tilting her jaw upwards in challenge. “When did you get back into town?”

Kyle shrugs, nonplussed by her cool welcome. The last time she’d seen him had been in the wake of...well, everything. The end of a disastrous summer where he’d been one more person to leave her behind, even if they’d not been on speaking terms since she heard what went down at prom. “Good to see you too, Deluca.”

Flor clears her throat loudly, pointedly. Maria turns to reach for Joel, but finds she’s been replaced. Sheriff Valenti is on his arm, looking nervous and excited in a floral dress.

Maria’s got no choice but Kyle and he knows it. At least he has the grace not to look smug as he places one hand on her hip, and takes the other in his own. He smells good too, something citrusy and fresh that isn’t the Axe body spray he used to favor.

It annoys Maria for some reason, and she responds the only way she knows, needling at him. “You lost enough friends that you have to rely on your mama for your social life?” She ignores the little voice inside that reminds her she spends her only night off every week dancing with the better part of the Roswell bingo club.

“I’ve not been back in town long,” he says, brow furrowed in concentration as he tries to pay attention to the steps Flor is demonstrating. “Still making connections. And there’s absolutely no shame in spending time with my mom. She’s been wanting to try this for ages.”

This sequence is instinctual to Maria by now. She doesn’t even need to come to the classes anymore, shifting her weight and swaying her hips to the music while letting her attention rest on Kyle. After the Pony closes she puts her own tapes on and salsas around as she closes up---but coming here gets her away from the Pony and into the company of people who aren’t drunk rednecks.

“How’s Mimi?” Kyle asks, but she presses her lips together, shakes her head. Whatever he sees in her expression, his eyes widen, questions and concerns flitting across his face, before he changes the subject. “Do you hear from Liz often?”

She shrugs, lets his hands guide her in front of him. “Sometimes. She’s busy saving the world. You?”

“Just trying to save the residents of this town. I’m a surgeon now.”

“Wow. Your little black book must be stuffed.”

His hands are very warm. Gentle. His eyes too. And damn him, he’s got rhythm. He manages to keep pace even as he replies to her very earnestly.

“Look, Maria. I’m not the idiot kid you knew a decade ago. I get it---I was the quintessential jock. I said awful things to Alex. I abandoned you when you were grieving Rosa because I had no idea what to do. I’ve changed a lot since then and it’d be nice if we could be friends again.”

Earnestness looks and sounds good on him. She swallows, hard.

“We were never friends. Not really. We only hung out because you were Liz’s boyfriend.”

“We were friendly. Could we start there?”

She gives an airy shrug, her chance to respond lost in the way Flor calls upon them to demonstrate a sequence of steps, trilling with excitement as they nail them. For the first time Maria has somebody who can keep up with her and isn’t tripping over his own feet---and he knows how to move his own hips, especially after a hands-on adjustment from Flor which has him raising his eyebrows at Maria.

Then the music really kicks in and they’re moving, cutting a path through the other couples, Maria’s pulse racing to catch up with her breath. She’s moving the way she always wanted to do when she began coming to these classes, and Kyle Valenti of all people is right there with her, grinning at the way they step and shift, one two three one two three, her skirt spinning out around her knees. The air practically crackles between them, charged by their movements, and every step feels like Kyle has taken her right out of Roswell and to somewhere more exciting.

She finally catches onto the trailing end of their conversation when the song shifts to a new, slower rhythm. “Valenti, if you keep moving like this, I’ll be as friendly as you like.”

Maria didn’t mean it like that. He *knows* she didn’t mean it like that. But it doesn’t stop his slow smile, which dimples his cheek, or the glint in his eyes.

“Careful. Don’t want my mom to have to cite either of us for being overly friendly in public.”

She tuts at him but keeps ever moving, and she knows now that he’s watching the sway of her hips as she twists and dips in his arms.

When the night ends---soon, it’s always too soon for Maria, but tonight especially---she lingers to say a real hello to Joel, who does not seem to have missed her presence or found his new dance partner wanting. The sheriff is spending her time speaking to the members of her community, even out of uniform, and Maria realizes this is about more than dancing for her. This is her putting in the hours, being a face and presence that they can trust. When Kyle cocks his head towards the door, Maria follows him.

The air outside is crisp and cold compared to the smoky heat within, but for all that Maria doesn’t find her blood cooling all that fast. Being able to dance, really dance, for the first time in a long time has stirred something within her. There’s something kindling that’s been dormant for a while, quiet and subdued amongst the drudgery of the bar and taking care of her mother.

“Do you plan on coming back next week?” she asks Kyle, and is alarmed to hear a hint of need within her voice.

He hesitates, and it’s enough to let her know that he didn’t intend to, not unless his mother wanted to. Not until Maria asked him to. “Sure,” he replies, and offers her another smile, one warm enough to spark another ember inside her. “I’ll be here.” He leans in to brush his lips against her cheek and she gets a lungful of that clean aftershave. “And maybe we could go out someplace after? You’re right---I don’t have many connections left here, but I’m willing to put all my friendliness into you.”

Maria rolls her eyes as she backs away towards her truck, but she can’t repress the shadow of a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “You keep that black book empty, and we may just have a deal.”

[enkelimagnus]

For the Shadowhunters WLW fic bingo, team red. Prompt: Space AU

Clary/Izzy

Read it on AO3

Companion Playlist (Turn off your Shuffle for this one please!)

This work will be multi-chaptered.

TW: Slavery, Authoritarian government

Izzy knocked back the glass full of cheap whiskey, and put it back down on the counter. Around her, the usual patrons were chatting, some were dancing drunkenly with the ladies employed by the owners to keep people who liked women interested.

The first few times she’d come here, she’d felt dirty about it. It had been a weird, seedy secret, and she’d refused to tell anyone, even her brother and partner, where she went to drink, sleep with someone, and forget the work and the situation.

One day, Alec had followed her. He’d ended up falling irrepressibly in love with the owner, a Warlock man called Magnus. Now, they didn’t keep their outings to the Rec private. Alec came there to see Magnus, and Izzy came there to drink.

The Rec was one of the few places where people didn’t stare at the earring that dangled under her left ear. She was grateful for that. She hated the looks when people realized she was Owned.

The earring was composed of a round part, fastened to her ear, and a tear-shaped, four-inch long dangling part. Both were made of a screen that could be made to display any symbol or color. Those who wore the earring were Owned. The earring’s purpose was to display their owner’s crest.

The only way to take it off would be to cut off her ear. And even if she did that, there would still be the chip, in the left side of her throat.

She waved at Magnus for another glass full of whiskey. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, grabbing the bottle and filling the glass again.

“Drinking alone?” Magnus asked. She shot a look at him. There was some bright lavender purple crayon under his eyes, and he’d drawn a line in black paint down his lower lip and down his chin. As usual, the colors of his makeup matched his clothing. He wore fitted black pants, shirt and vest, the latter shining with light purple accents when the light hit the patterns correctly.

Izzy nodded. “Alec’s on a mission. Solo. He’s taken a bunch of extra warrants lately.” She said, looking at Magnus pointedly. “It’s like he’s trying to get a bunch of money together.”

Magnus shrugged. “He didn’t tell me about it. He’s a secretive man, your brother. Even to me.” He hummed, leaning his hip against the side of the bar, and watching her intently. “Where are you at? In your own quest to save up enough money to buy your freedom?”

Izzy licked her lips, looking back right in the man’s golden eyes for a few moments, before she took a sip of her drink. “Not close enough. But I won’t be taking all the warrants I can and exhausting myself.”

Magnus huffed a chuckle and nodded. “Well. In any case. The next rounds are on me.” He reached to cup her chin. “Don’t get yourself in too much of a situation. If you end up in a fight, I am gonna kick your ass.”

Izzy nodded, a smile on her lips. “I’ll probably let you, Magnus.”

The man let go of her chin and walked away, going to another awaiting customer. She heard him purr a ‘what will it be for you, gorgeous’, and smiled. She liked Magnus. He was fun. And he loved Alec maybe as much as she loved him.

Izzy shifted on the high stool she was sitting on, and let herself relax a little. She was still wearing her usual work clothes, boots, tight navy blue uniform, the holster with her phaser strapped to her thigh. She was comfortable in those. She only ever changed for specific missions.

A red-skinned EverArk settled on a stool next to her and she nodded at them. Upon closer inspection, Izzy found they had the white markings that indicated they were a male. Interesting. She smiled at him.

Music played loudly in the background, and Izzy found herself bobbing her head to the rhythm regularly. The EverArk ordered another drink for her. It was not her favorite, but it would do. She thanked him, and started drinking the gift she’d been given. It was very sweet, so sweet she had to swallow a wince.

EverArks always liked sweet drinks. She could never understand why. She still pretended she loved it though. It had been a while since the last time she’d had sex with an EverArk. They were surprisingly strong for their thin and brittle appearance.

She sipped on the sweet drink again, and tried to ignore the sweetness that seemed to completely burn her palate. The EverArk was still watching her. She could see the long red members that grew out of his scalp moving slightly with interest as she shifted.

“So what’s your name?” The EverArk asked.

“Izzy,” she replied. “Yours?”

“Resssin.”

Izzy almost wondered if she’d had sex with him before before she remembered that Resssin was one of the most common names in the EverArk culture. She’d personally met around eleven Ressins in her life. Twelve, if you counted this one.

“What do you do with that big phaser, Izzy?”

“I’m a bounty hunter. I work for the SHA.” She hummed, licking her lips and tasting more of the sweet cocktail.

“The Shadow Hunting Agency. Quite prestigious, for an Owned human girl.”

Izzy had a bit of a sigh. It always came back to the earring. “Whether I’m Owned or not is none of your business. They won’t care if you sample the merchandise.”

The EverArk pursed his lips. “I do care. I don’t fuck Owned ones, no matter how round and pretty they are. Next time, wear your hair up so people don’t think they’ve got themselves a good Free girl when you’re actually far from that.” He hissed, and stood up, walking away from her.

“Fuck off, asshole!” Izzy shouted after him, and went back to the whiskey she still had. “Magnus!” She called. “Another one!”

She hated wearing her hair up. With her hair down, dark and thick, she could conceal the earring as much as possible, and sometimes pass for a free woman.

Magnus walked back towards her and gave her another glass. “Asshole?”

“Got offended I didn’t show off my earring. Probably think he wasted a drink on me.” Izzy shrugged. “I’m tired. Do you still have rooms downstairs?”

Magnus nodded. “Yeah. You can crash here until Alec comes back with the ship, if you want.” He said, loudly because of the music that pulsed around them. “And Izzy? You’re far from a waste. Don’t listen to assholes.”

“Easy to say. You’re not the one with the glowing white earring.”

Magnus sighed and leaned forward. “Look at my left ear.” He said softly. She obeyed.

In the middle of the lobe, there was a very clear puncture mark, and a star-shaped scar around it. The same kind of scarring Izzy saw on freed people. Magnus had been Owned as well.

“Half of the people around here were once Owned, either by some wealthy ass-hat, or by the Clave themselves. Whoever thinks you’re worth less because of that earring doesn’t understand life in this part of the city. The EverArk probably came here wanting a thrill, and realized what he wanted was someone from the other side of the Wall.”

Izzy moved back, looking at him with wide eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Magnus chuckled. “It’s not something I often advertise.” He explained. “You’re a great person, Izzy. And you’re beautiful. Being Owned does not change that.”

Izzy sighed softly. “Thank you. It means a lot.”

Magnus hummed. “I trust you and Alec will free yourselves. You’re smart, and you’re skilled, and you will get the money, but just do not feel lesser. They do not deserve your self-hatred.” He whispered.

The door of the bar was suddenly shoved open. It banged throughout the room. The laughter and chats died. Magnus tensed. Izzy tensed. Everyone looked at each other with fear in their eyes. Soldiers walked into the room.

Clave soldiers. They were covered in black from head to toe. They shouted “Papers! ID! Everyone.” Izzy stood still. She didn’t have either of those.

Magnus reached for his papers in his pocket. Izzy watched him from the corner of her eyes, standing as still as she possibly could. The soldiers went to every person. No one could run.

“We got an illegal!” One of them shouted and two soldiers walked towards the Seelie man, who begged and screamed and struggled but was arrested, chained, and sedated. They dragged him out of the bar. Whether or not the man was actually without papers wasn’t the point. He didn’t have them on him.

One of the soldiers reached the bar and started going through the people that sat there. One of them walked behind the bar to Magnus. He grabbed the papers out of his hands and looked over them. “Magnus Bane. Freed. Warlock. Man. Is this your establishment?”

“Yes.”

“Are there other levels?”

“Two. Downstairs,” Magnus said.

The soldier called for others and started walking down the stairs. Izzy had not been controlled. That was unusual. She was finally moving and turning around when she was suddenly face to face with a soldier.

Without asking, he grabbed her hair and pulled it out of the way, revealing her earring. “One Owned here, bring the reader.” He called out, and kept a grip on her hair, forcing her neck into a strained position and keeping her there forcefully. The man with the reader walked away from another Owned and towards her. He held the scanner to her throat.

Lightwood, Isabelle, #69AZ87 Property of the Clave Assigned to the SHA Status: Legal

“All good,” the man with the scanner said. The one who held her hair let go of her and took a step back. He didn’t apologize. They never did.

Izzy looked down. She stayed there with her head down and the headache that was forming, until they walked out of the downstairs area with another person. She didn’t watch them take them away. She only breathed again when the door slammed shut, and it was obvious they were gone.

The music still resounded in the complete silence. Izzy looked up towards Magnus. He wasn’t smiling anymore.

“What was that about? Controls never happen around here,” Izzy asked, when the chatter started to come back tentatively to the bar.

“They have a fugitive.”

“A Clave fugitive? That’s impossible. Free or Owned?” she frowned.

“Free.”

Izzy decided that she didn’t need to know more. She was too tired anyway. She finished her drink and nodded at him. “I’ll take the room. I need to crash.”

Magnus took out a key with a little keyring with the number 6 written on it and threw it her way. “We’ll see later for payment.”

“You love me too much to make me pay,” Izzy called behind her as she started walking towards the staircase that led downstairs.

“I love money more than you!” Magnus replied.

She flipped him off lovingly before making her way downstairs. The stairs were relatively clean, and so was the corridor. Her room was on the -1 floor, and the door’s black paint was fraying slightly. She turned the knob and got in, closing and locking the door behind her.

The rooms were clean, for this kind of establishment. The bed could fit two to three people, the walls were bare, and the rest of the furniture rather sparse, but it was clean. She sighed softly, and undid her holster.

Izzy could hear someone showering in another room, as well as some screams of pleasure. The small, unframed mirror showed her her own face. She looked tired. There were dark circles under her eyes, her lipstick was gone, and her hair was starting to be a little less voluminous and a little greasier.

She grabbed a hair tie and pushed her hands through her hair to gather them in a ponytail. The earring seemed to glow brighter. She sighed softly and looked away. She should have gotten used to it, but it seemed to never happen. She laid down on the bed, still fully clothed, her phaser underneath the single pillow.

Izzy wondered what had happened to Magnus. How had he gotten Owned? How had he freed himself? Buying yourself out, or being freed by owners were the most common ways of becoming Freed, but Izzy had heard of a few that had managed to cut their earrings and extract their chips.

Izzy knew she would never be freed by her owner. She was owned by the Clave. The Clave didn’t have limited resources. The Clave didn’t have an emotional connection to her that would push them to free her. Her freedom would come only by her own hands. She would have to save money until she could match the unknown number the Clave asked for her.

She loathed them. The Clave had never been an organization she held in her heart, but since her parents’ death in the coup and her brother’s and her sudden change of freedom status, she just loathed them.

Izzy shifted on the bed, and closed her eyes. The woman in the next room did not stop screaming out indistinctive noises. She might not be able to fall asleep, if it continued like this.

Somehow, she did fall asleep.

Izzy was woken up by the noise of scuffling of feet and a door opening and closing violently. She stood up immediately, sensing a presence in the room. There was a cloaked shape on the floor. The shape was a person. Izzy stood up grabbing her phaser and pointing it at the person.

“Hands in the air,” Izzy ordered, voice loud. “Who the hell are you?”

The person seemed to struggle to put their hands up. Their hands were covered by gloves. They hushed her. “Please, don’t make any noise, I’m not supposed to be here.” They urged and Izzy frowned.

Izzy shook her head. “I asked you for your name.” She replied, keeping the phaser where she assumed the person’s head was. Cloaks could hide non-human anatomy, so she wasn’t exactly sure. “I am the one occupying this room, if you’re not supposed to be here, you should go to your own room.” She replied coldly.

“You don’t understand,” the person pleaded, getting back to their feet. “I’m in hiding.” They turned around to look at the door, before turning back to Izzy, something frantic in the way they moved.

The figure was rather small and even with the cloak on, Izzy could tell they were on the skinny side. Were they the fugitive Magnus had talked about? But why would Magnus be helping a Clave fugitive hide? Magnus always tried to stay out of trouble.

Izzy shook her head. “Take off your hood. I want to see your face.”

The person seemed to hesitate before they took off their hood. They had red hair, mid-length, messy and wavy. Izzy settled on their hazel eyes. They seemed human. Izzy wondered if she’d seen them before.

“Please, just… don’t tell anyone I’m here,” the human asked, looking at Izzy pleadingly. Their eyes seemed a bit bloodshot now that Izzy could see them more, and they were quite pale. “Is the door locked?”

Izzy sighed. She kept her phaser firmly aimed at the human before grabbing her key and slowly working her way around her. She reached the door and locked it, and put the key in one of her pockets.

“Here. I locked the door,” she said, pushing on the knob to show that it wasn’t opening. “Now, your turn. Who are you?”

The person sighed. They started moving, and Izzy shook her head. “None of that.” She hissed.

She didn’t trust this person. She didn’t know who they were and if they were the Clave fugitive, they could get Izzy into some very serious trouble. She did not want to be around Clave officials more than she had to. If they found her in the company of the fugitive, she would probably be taken to Alicante HQ and questioned about her involvement. Izzy shuddered.

“If you don’t answer my questions, I’m going to quick you out of this room. I don’t care who you’re hiding from, I’m not getting myself in trouble,” Izzy explained, voice firm.

The person sighed. They kept their hands up in the air, looking around the room quickly as if to make sure they were alone.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m not keeping someone under the bed,” Izzy rolled her eyes. “Come on now. You got some explaining to do.”

The person swallowed visibly before nodding. “Clary Fray. Free. Human. Woman,” she explained. “Happy now?”

Clary Fray. That wasn’t a name she knew. Izzy nodded briefly. The woman seemed to relax at her nod. There was something about her Izzy didn’t know how to place. She was familiar. But she didn’t know any Clary Frays. There was no way she knew her.

“Are you armed, Fray?” Izzy asked.

“Two knives and an electrosword,” the woman replied.

Electrosword? That was a rather expensive weapon. That just added to the pile of strange things about her that Izzy was starting to compile. What kind of fugitive, even a Free human woman, could get their hands on an electrosword?

“Unarm yourself,” Izzy ordered. She saw the woman start to talk to contradict her. “Nothing will happen to you here, I have my phaser, the door is locked, and the Clave soldiers already controlled the bar.”

Clary Fray seemed to relax a little and slowly reached down to her belt. She slid the electrosword out and threw it on the bed, and grabbed the two knives out of their sheaths as well. Once that was done, Izzy breathed a little easier.

“So you’re the Clave fugitive they’re searching for,” she said, putting her phaser back in its holster, and putting the holster on again. “I’m curious.”

Fray nodded, moving to go sit on a chair. “That’s me. Sorry they controlled you because of me.”

Izzy shook her head. “It’s fine. We’re all relatively used to it. This part of the city is often raided by Clave soldiers wanting to fill some quotas.” She explained. She reached up and undid her ponytail. Fray had already seen the earring anyway, but she still didn’t feel comfortable having it on full display.

“I had no idea.”

Izzy pursed her lips. “You’re from the other side of the Wall,” she commented.

Yet another reason not to trust her. Clave fugitive, Free woman, with a familiar face, living in New Town, with a goddamn electrosword. Izzy had never even wielded one of those. She’d touched one before, at the beginning of her work with SHA, the weapon of one of her bounties, but it had been snatched from her hand immediately. That’s not a weapon for you.

“Don’t hold it against me?” Fray asked, her voice going a bit high with the question.

Izzy huffed. Of course she was going to hold it against her. New Town people just had no clue. She sat down on the edge of the bed, facing her.

“So how did you end up in my room?”

Fray sighed, licking her lips. “I knew I could get some help from Magnus, so I came here and he grabbed me, ushered my downstairs and basically threw me into the first room he found after telling me he’d come later.”

“Why the Hell would Magnus get involved with someone like you?” Izzy blurted out, looking at her. “He hates Clave people, and he hates New Town Clave officials even more.”

“First, I wasn’t an official,” Fray pointed out, standing up to pace a little. “Second, Magnus Bane is the one person anyone in the know would go to to reach the Rebellion. Don’t think I don’t know that fact just because I’m from New Town.”

Izzy opened her mouth and closed it again. Magnus Bane? Rebellion? She felt like her brain was running on empty suddenly. She felt like she couldn’t understand a word of what the woman was saying.

Magnus Bane stayed as far from the Clave and from any type of political action as possible. He disliked having Clave people in his bar, but he rarely kicked them out. He was just someone who never wanted to get into trouble.

Maybe she’d been wrong all this time. Maybe under the “head down and don’t make waves” exterior, Magnus was actually much more rebellious than she’d thought. Did Alec know about this? Or had Magnus really kept them all in the dark for months?

“You didn’t know?” Fray asked after a moment and Izzy shook her head.

“Of course I knew. Don’t be silly. Magnus is a good friend of mine.” She snapped, and stood up. “In any case, I guess you better wait for him here.”

Izzy grabbed the key out of her pocket, unlocked the door and threw it back over to the woman. “I’ll be upstairs.” She said, and walked out of the room.

She made her way quickly up the stairs and into the main part of the bar, that was starting to become less and less full. Magnus was standing behind the counter, washing some glasses and humming under his breath the song that was playing on the speakers.

Izzy walked briskly towards him, getting behind the counter as well and grabbing his arm. “I need to talk to you.”

Magnus turned, smiling at her. “Something wrong with the room?”

“Yeah, Magnus. It has a Clave fugitive in it, and said fugitive just told me you worked with the fucking Rebellion.” Izzy hissed, not talking too loud. She didn’t want trouble.

Magnus lost his smile immediately. “I’m guessing you want some explanations?” he asked, something somber in his eyes.

“Damn right.”

Magnus waved over at the other bartender to take over the bar and led Izzy gently towards his office. Izzy had never been in that part of the bar.

The room was a bit small and cramped, with a washed up couch in the corner, a small desk with stacks of papers and a knock-off HalO tablet, bookshelves filled to the brim and a coat rack that seemed to want to fall down under the wait of the clothing that hung on it.

Magnus closed the door behind her and leaned against the desk, sitting on the side of it. “Where do you want to start?”

Izzy licked her lips. “I don’t know. Does Alec know? How many other things are you hiding from us?”

“I’m not hiding anything from you, Izzy. I’m just not disclosing information that you do not need to know.” Magnus replied, crossing his arms. “And as for the other question, no. Alec doesn’t know.”

Izzy closed her fist and took a deep breath. “So you’re keeping him in the dark too. Good to know it’s not just your friends.”

Magnus sighed. “You make it seem as if it’s an easy decision. Neither Alec nor I can afford too much issues with the authorities, so I thought maybe keeping you and him away from the incredibly dangerous stuff I do.”

Izzy shook her head. “I can’t believe this. From you, of all people. I trust you, Magnus. At least I did before I learned that there’s a lot I don’t know about you. This, you being Freed…”

Magnus stood up. “I apologize for not telling everyone my rather painful life story, Isabelle.” He replied icily. “As for the Rebellion, I made the choice to keep you in the dark so I could protect you. Alec’s safety, your safety, those are important to me. And of course, the less people that know about what goes on when I’m not at the bar, the better.”

“And how does allowing a Clave fugitive to stay here make anyone safer?” Izzy snapped. “A Clave fugitive from New Town, with a fucking electrosword! That screams high-level Clave official!”

Izzy couldn’t help the wave of betrayal and anger that was washing over her. She knew it was selfish to expect that Magnus would have told her everything important about his life. He was allowed to be secretive, the same way Alec was to most people. He was allowed to want to keep the dirty parts of his past to himself. Being Freed meant having been Owned, and that came with its own load of prejudice, and she got that Magnus, a business owner, would keep that under wraps.

“I like you, Izzy. But we’re not close enough that I share every detail of my life and activities with you,” Magnus said, a bit softer. “I am helping Clary because it’s my role in the community, in the Rebellion. I act as a point of contact, I act as a broker, or an intermediary, between people who wish to escape the Clave’s influence, and the smugglers that work with the Rebellion.”

“But she…” She’s a Clave official. She can’t be trusted. She has a fucking electrosword.

Magnus looked at her. “I don’t care who she is, or was, or why she’s running. I don’t judge, and I don’t ask questions. Clary wants to escape the Clave. I’m helping her do just that. You don’t get a say in this, Izzy. This is my life. And by keeping Alec and you out of it, I’m protecting you.”

Izzy closed her mouth. He was right, and she knew it. She was still mad though. She was mad that she’d been mistaken about the nature of their friendship.

“Did Alec know about you being Freed?” She asked quietly.

“Yes. He did not tell you because it was not his story to tell,” Magnus replied, smiling a little at her. “I’m sorry, Izzy. But I promise I’m not keeping you in the dark because I just feel like it. You’ll learn more with time.”

So that was it then. A promise that she would learn things later, probably as she leveled up in friendship level. Magnus’ words seemed final and he watched her with a look that discouraged her from asking more. He’d already told her that he didn’t ask questions about where the people he helped came from. If she wanted information about Clary Fray, she’d have to get them herself.

Izzy nodded and turned around. She walked towards the door and pushed it open. The bar was almost deserted now. It was the early morning. She sighed a little, feeling the exhaustion again.

The door of the bar opened suddenly and she was startled. For a second, she thought that the Clave soldiers were back. It was only Alec though, tall and tired and walking home with some blood on his shoes. Kill warrants, she guessed. They rarely took those. They paid the best, especially when you took them as a solo mission. Alec was really pushing for money.

Alec had a soft smile at her. The earring looked strange on him. It didn’t suit him. It didn’t suit Izzy either, but it suited Alec even less. He came closer and engulfed her in a hug. She hugged him back. He smelled like the ship and sweat.

“You’re still awake?” Alec asked.

Izzy hesitated. She wanted to tell him about the woman in the room, about Magnus and the Rebellion but… Magnus was right. It was a dangerous secret. A secret she didn’t want Alec to have to bear too, not right now when it was so obvious he was struggling.

“Yes. I don’t sleep well outside of the ship,” she lied, and let go of him. “You look exhausted.”

Alec sighed. “This warrant wasn’t the easiest.”

“You could have asked for my help, you know?” Izzy whispered.

He shook his head. “It was a solo mission. Asking you to come and help would have made us lose money.” He explained, and kissed her forehead. “I’m gonna go get Magnus and go to bed. You should do the same.”

“Is she parked where she usually is?” Izzy would prefer going to sleep in the ship rather than having to share a room with the fugitive woman.

“She is, but she’s dirty as hell. You should sleep here.” Alec shrugged. “Magnus will give you a room.”

Izzy bit her lip. “I already have one.”

“Goodnight then,” Alec smiled, unaware of his sister’s annoyance. He gently tapped her shoulder before walking to the office and opening the door. Izzy heard him say ‘hey, baby’ in the soft voice he used only for Magnus, and heard Magnus’ enthusiastic reply.

As she walked past the office door, she caught a glance of the two of them, Magnus sitting on his desk, legs wrapped around Alec’s waist, as Alec’s hands roamed over his body and they exchanged passionate kisses.

Izzy rolled her eyes at them and walked downstairs, back to the room. She turned the knob but it was locked. Of course it was. She rolled her eyes again and knocked.

“It’s me. The one you woke up?” She called out, trying to be as quiet as possible but still be heard. After a few moments, the door opened. Izzy pushed past the woman and sighed softly. They would have to share a bed.

Clary Fray had taken off her cloak and taken a shower, her red hair was damp and looked darker. She stood next to the door, having locked it again, and watched Izzy curiously.

“‘I’m still wondering what your name is,” she said. “You forgot to introduce yourself earlier.”

“I didn’t forget,” Izzy replied. She hadn’t wanted her to know her name then. She still didn’t want to tell her, but if Fray was going to stick around for longer, she was going to have to introduce herself eventually.

“All I know is that you’re Owned. And you seem human.”

Izzy ground her teeth. Of course, the freedom status was the first thing people learned about her. Fucking earring. She hated that thing every day more and more.

“Too bad you don’t have a scanner on you. You’d have just read my chip,” Izzy mocked. “Unless you took it with you from New Town, along with your electrosword.”

Fray shrugged. “It’s a rather common feature on our HalOs.”

Izzy raised an eyebrow. So New Towners did have a common way to read chips of random Owned. She pursed her lips, going to lay down on the bed. It was still very comfortable. “So what? You just walk up to someone with an earring and check them?”

“Basically. That way you know if they belong where they are, and you know their owners if you want to buy them from them.”

The casualty with which she talked about Owned people like Izzy, about buying them from their owners and passing them from hand to hand made Izzy want to puke.

“I could check yours now if you wanted me to.” Fray’s voice was chillingly innocent.

“Why the FUCK would I want you to read my fucking chip, Fray?” Izzy snapped. “I’m still a fucking person, you just can ask me what you want to know.”

Fray seemed to think about that. “What if you don’t answer my questions?”

“Then you stay out of my fucking personal life.” Izzy replied. Clary Fray acted like she’d never been told that she shouldn't just read chips. It was obvious to Izzy that she’d spent her life surrounded by people who didn't really see the point in respecting Owned people's wishes and privacy.

The other woman became silent. Izzy shot a glance at her. She was attractive, for a New Towner. Usually, they were a little too… pristine for Izzy’s taste, as if they were just coming out of a box. Doll-like, almost inhuman, with perfect hair and perfect clothing.

Izzy remembered she used to be that way. She had perfect hair, straightened by her mother’s Owned, perfect clothing. Her nails were manicured, her makeup on point, her lips shiny. She stood straight, barely ever smiled, and when she did, she didn’t show teeth. She’d hated it, and had wished for more freedom.

Now that she thought about who she used to be, Izzy wanted to laugh at herself. She’d had no idea what it was like not to be free. She’d had no idea what people around her went through, and she hated that she’d been just like the woman that sat on the chair across the room, unaware of the feelings and anger of the Owned that surrounded her.

Izzy sat up on the bed, crossing her legs. “I know you’re used to doing what you want with Owned,” Izzy said, calmer now that she remembered that the other woman wasn’t as far from her as she initially felt. “You need to understand that the world outside of New Town doesn’t work that way.”

“How do you know what I’m used to doing?” Clary Fray replied, something a little more aggressive in her voice.

“Because my birth name is Isabelle Lightwood, and I was born in New Town.”

Izzy felt the energy shift as Clary opened her mouth to say something, and closed it again. She could see the woman trying to search for words, search for something to say.

“You’re going to offer me condoleances, and I will accept them, and then you’re going to stop thinking of me as Owned, you’re going to think of me as a New Towner,” Izzy explained. “I don’t want you to do that. I may have been one, but I’m not anymore, and I have no desire to go back.”

“Why?” The woman asked. There was curiosity in her tone, more than anything.

“Why are you running from the Clave?” Izzy countered. She was using the question both rhetorically and as a way to maybe get some information from the woman. Her circumstances were still mysterious.

Clary Fray swallowed and shifted. She was as thin as Izzy had guessed when they had first met, but there was a definite strength in her body. She was strong. Strong enough to wield an electrosword and two knives, Izzy reminded herself.

“I thought that there would be no questions asked.”

Izzy had a small chuckle. “Oh, that’s Magnus, not me. You’re gonna have to share a bed with me tonight, so unless you want to sleep on the floor without any of your weapons, I need to know if you’re going to murder me in my sleep.”

The woman grew silent. She licked her lips, her eyes going around the room, focusing on anything but Izzy. Izzy sighed. “You killed someone.”

Clary shifted again, obviously uncomfortable. “A few days ago, there was an explosion in the Circle Council Room,” she said. “That may have been me.”

Izzy opened her mouth. This tiny woman with such innocent eyes, who seemed to beg not to be given to the authorities, was responsible for one of the biggest terrorist attacks in the Clave’s recent history.

“That killed half of Valentine Morgenstern’s Council,” Izzy muttered.

Clary shrugged. “They had it coming.” Her following smile was far from innocent.

Holy Shit . That woman was not what Izzy had expected.

“I guess I can’t promise you that I am not a murderer,” she added, and Izzy’s brain was still trying to deal with the thing she’d just learned.

There had been too much new information today. It was just too much for her brain to deal with, this added to the rest of the revelations about the people that lived around her. She couldn’t deal with all of that in such little time.

“I think I need to go to bed,” Izzy muttered.

Clary stood up, and took off her shoes. She was slightly smaller without the heels, but not that much. Izzy watched her grab her cloak and walk towards the side of the bed that Izzy was not occupying. Izzy blinked, watching her.

The woman laid down by her side, and used the cloak as a blanket. “That way you get to sleep in the sheets, and you’re not afraid I’m going to cuddle you to death during the night,” Clary said.

Izzy sighed and kicked off her shoes, took off her holster and slid the phaser under the pillow again. She slid herself in between the sheets, still fully clothed, and shifted until she got into a comfortable position. She laid down, closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep.

Clary started to snore soon after. Izzy needed more time to fall asleep. After all, she had a very attractive terrorist in bed with her.

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My Heart Will Go On (Piano Sheet Music / Chords / Notes PDF)

  Celine Dion – My Heart Will Go On (Lyrics)

Every night in my dreams I see you, I feel you That is how I know you go on

Far across the distance And spaces between us You have come to show you go on

Near, far, wherever you are I believe that the heart does go on Once more you open the door And you’re here in my heart And my heart will go on and on

Love can touch us one time And last for a lifetime And never let go till we’re one

Love was when I loved you One true time I hold to In my life we’ll always go on

Near, far, wherever you are I believe that the heart does go on Once more you open the door And you’re here in my heart And my heart will go on and on

There is some love that will not go away You’re here, there’s nothing I fear And I know that my heart will go on We’ll stay forever this way You are safe in my heart And my heart will go on and on

About Song

“My Heart Will Go On“, also called the “Love Theme from Titanic“, is the main theme song to James Cameron‘s blockbuster film Titanic. Its music was composed by James Horner, its lyrics were written by Will Jennings, and it was produced by Walter Afanasieff and Simon Franglen,[1] recorded by Celine Dion, and released in 1997.[2]

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