Bloodloss: An Alec and Magnus (Malec) Fanfiction

Chapter 2

I knock loudly on the door of the Institute and an unfamiliar face lets me in.

“Excuse me, I’m Alec Lightwood, and I’m the temporary head of this Institute. Who are you?” I say, with as much dignity as I can muster through my apprehension.

“I’m not required to tell you that. You need to come with me Mr Lightwood.”

Something about the tone of the man’s voice stops me from protesting. He is huge; tall and muscled with shorn hair. I’m strong, but not strong enough to pull myself free when he takes me shoulders and marches me down the hall and toward the library.

He pushes the door open, shoving me roughly through the doorway. As the door closes, I scan the faces of the many gathered shadowhunters. The library has always been my favourite room, but I have a feeling that after today it might lose some of its appeal. I can already feel my mouth getting dry. I don’t much like being amongst so many strangers, and I only recognise three faces in this crowded room; my father, my sister, and Jia Penhallow

Other than Isabelle, it’s doubtful they’re there to support me. My father and Jia have to be present, because he is the Inquisitor, and she the Consul.  I want to believe  that they will go easy on me because they know me, but I know they won’t. My parents and I are no longer fighting, but my father is extremely proud of his position of Inquisitor. Jia may be one of our closest family friends, but that doesn’t mean she’ll give me special treatment. She won’t. I’d be foolish to believe they would.

I incline my head out of respect and approach the group, who are seated around a large table in the centre of the room. They don’t seem to have been enough chairs, because they seem to be cramped and the some of the other chairs from around the library have been dragged over to the table to accommodate the large group.

“Inquisitor, Consul.” I say, nodding to each in turn.

I was taught all of this as a child, how to behave before the Conclave. It feels odd to act like this, so formal, in front of people I know so well. I turn to the others.

“Gathered Conclave members.” I nod.

I take my place before the group and see Izzy drop her gaze to the tabletop. She’s dressed sensibly for the meeting; in a dress that – unlike the rest of hers – reaches further down her thighs. Her heels, which tap anxiously against the floor, are small, breaking her ‘nothing under seven inches’ rule. Her face is almost entirely free of makeup, and she looks somehow both much younger and much older.

“Where’s Jace?” I ask.

“He did not wish to be present.” Jia informs me. “Do you know why we have requested your presence here today, Mr Lightwood?”

I think about this briefly, decide my knowledge of the situation is fairly vague, and shake my head.