West of Words (Alec Lightwood)

🗝 Chapter Eighteen 🗝

Varian was cautious as he approached the Institute.

He had portaled just a block or so away from it, and approached slowly, worried the same feeling would come over him as he went. But Varian made it to the front door with nothing in his way, and as soon as he stepped inside Alec was there to greet him.

"Thank you again."

Varian just hummed, trying to not look at the handsome Shadowhunter.

Alec led the way to the court room, everything was set up impeccably, just the Shadowhunter way. The emotions in the room were overwhelming, and Varian breathed twice before stepping all the way in. The Inquisitor attempted to put up a fight when Varian said that he was Izzy's lawyer, but she had no grounds, and in no time he was standing in front of a Silent Brother.

"Place your hands on the sword."

Varian winced as the voice sounded in his head, not particularly liking the feeling of someone else in his head, but did what the Silent Brother said. He wrapped his hands around the flat of the blade, flinching as he felt the raw angelic power coursing through him.

"By the power of this sword, do you swear to defend your client with integrity and honesty?"  There was no emotion's coming from the Silent Brother, and that nearly threw Varian in for a loop.

There was no compelling, the sword didn't try to force him to speak, and suddenly Varian had a realization that the sword had no control over him. But he spoke the truth anyways, he had no reason not too. "No argument from me." He dropped his hold on the sword, watching the Silent Brother walk away.

"Make your case, Warlock." The Inquisitor spit the word like it was an insult, and Varian could see the hatred floating off of her. He pushed it away.

"My case is simple. It is true that Isabelle Lightwood acted against the orders of the Clave by setting free the Seelie Meliorn. But she did not act against the interest of the Clave." Varian noticed the disgust that flashed through the Inquisitor, as if the idea of a Warlock knowing the best interest of the Shadowhunter was something foreign to her. "Preventing the forced interrogation and possible death of a Seelie saved the Accords."

The Inquisitor spoke in a condescending manner. "We are not here to debate what might have happened Warlock." She sighs as if bored, "I await a valid argument. Do you have one?"

"I bloody well do! You want the Mortal Cup, and my client doesn't have it." Varian sets his shoulders back, raising his chin. "Since this whole proceeding isn't about what it's really about, I move to have this case dismissed."

"You're out of order!" The Inquisitor shouted as she stood.

"No, you're out of order!" It was nearly childish as Varian shouted it back at her. "It's not Isabelle's fault. It's the Cup! Put the Cup on trial!"

The Inquisitor scoffed, as if Varian was being ridiculous.

Varian turned, stalking towards the table that Izzy was sitting at and holding a hand out to her. "If you don't mind."

Izzy shook her head, accepting Varian's hand up before walking over to the witness stand. The Inquisitor was the one to question Izzy, and Varian stood very still, watching as everything went down.

"You have led us to believe that you alone carried out this operation." The Inquisitor barely looked at Izzy as she spoke, as if looking at her would lower her position. "But Clary Fairchild was seen near the City of Bones that night."

"Maybe she was out for a walk." Izzy snapped back, her eyes trained on Varian's. Varian had a small hand in the operation, but he wasn't the one on trial so he had no reason to speak up.

The Inquisitor sighed in frustration. "And you expect us to believe that you distracted the guards and escaped with the prisoner on your own?"

"Pretty slick right?" If Varian had had a chance to speak to her before the trial started he would have informed her to dial back the sarcasm.

The Inquisitor looked down at Izzy, anger apparent in the red decorating the air around her. "I suggest you think about how slick it would be when Valentine uses the Mortal Cup to raise an army of rogue Shadowhunters."

"Objection!" Varian shouted, "You have no reason to believe that she wants Valentine to succeed."

The Inquisitor looked insulted that Varian had interrupted, but it was the truth. "That's the first sane thing I've heard today."

Izzy turned her head so quickly, snapping back at the Inquisitor with every bit of malice in her voice. "You know what's insane? Thinking we have the right to treat a Downworlder's life as worthless!"

"Izzy." Lydia Branwell spoke for the first time, but her voice wasn't firm or harsh. "Everything you say here will be considered in the final verdict."

Izzy smiled, almost cruelly, but her words didn't reflect the smile. "Good, than consider this: Valentine didn't come out of nowhere. We use our angel blood to justify everything we do, just like him."

Varian smiled as Izzy continued, feeling comfort in Izzy's beliefs.

"Like him, we forget that we are not only angels. We are part Mundane. We can be afraid, and fear makes us cruel." She turned to look at the crowd of those watching the trial. "And we turn our fear to Downworlders just as Valentine did, and just as he did, we turn on each other."

"You think we're doing that to you?" The Inquisitor frowned as she spoke.

"You have to answer that for yourself," Izzy paused, adding the title as a second thought, almost like an insult. "Madam Inquisitor."