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thomaslightwood · 4 years

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A Kind of Magic

Chapter six: Gimme the prize

Now you die.

I have something to say: It's better to burn out than to fade away.

There can be only one.

Just gimme the prize.

• • • • • •

Alastair watched how Thomas carefully held one of his spears. It was the one inlaid with golden designs of dragons, kylins, and birds.

Alastair almost didn't move while Thomas was looking at his collection. He had a feeling that this is some sort of test for Thomas' approval. Which, of course, was ridiculous. Thomas would not judge him, much less by his spears. And even if he did, his collection was large and with all kinds of spears.

But it was one of his very few hobbies. Something he did for years and that was close to his heart. He wanted Thomas to like it.

“They're incredible,” Thomas said quietly without taking his eyes off the spear in his hands. “I have never seen more beautiful weapons.”

Alastair didn't know how to answer this. He wasn't used people to say kind things to him.

But he felt how his chest was filling up with pride and warm feeling that left him breathless.

“I never leave the house without my spears,” he said only.

Thomas smiled a little. And Alastair found himself staring again. Thomas' smile did things to him.

“I have never thought,” Thomas said as he put the spear back in its place. “That I would be in your room.”

Alastair hid his smile.

“And I have never thought you would be in my room either.” After a moment of silence, he added “But I like it.”

Thomas looked at him with sparkles in his eyes and a smile.

“What are we going to do now?” he asked. "We have time before patrolling.”

“What do you want to do?” Alastair answered playfully. Raziel, he didn't know what was happening with him. But around Thomas he always was feeling brave. He was feeling like… he is allowed to be himself.

Thomas laughed. “Is this a game to you?”

“No,” Alastair said seriously. “Definitely not.” Thomas was anything but a game to him. Actually, Alastair was beginning to worry how important his relationship with Thomas became to him.

Thomas wasn't smiling anymore. He was looking right into Alastair's eyes. He gently held Alastair's face in his big hands and leaned his forehead against his, without breaking the eye contact.

“I know,” Thomas whispered. “And… thank you for it. You are amazing.”

Alastair could feel how his heart was breaking in his chest but it was good. It was good and warm and right because it was Thomas Lightwood doing it.

Thomas bent down a little bit, like he was going to kiss Alastair but didn't after all. If Alastair didn't know him better he would have thought that Thomas is unsure but this wasn't the case.

Alastair had noticed a few things about him. Like how he liked being kissed and often was letting Alastair to intent the kiss. Or how he liked to play with Alastair's hair (he even was considering to let it grow longer for Thomas). Or his face when he talked about his family and his childhood (he rarely did it). Or how he very carefully listened to Alastair when he talked about his childhood (which was even more rarely).

He crushed his lips in Thomas' while thinking about all this and more. About his smile that he was kissing now. About his broad shoulders which he now was using to push Thomas on the bed.

Alastair thought of the fire that Thomas ignited in him. He wanted nothing more than to be burned by it.

What got him out of this trans was one moment of hesitation. One little, almost uncatchable moment of unsureness, that made Alastair stop.

If he didn't know Thomas that well he would think it was only on his head.

“What's wrong?” he murmured. “Thomas?”

“I...”

Alastair stopped moving. They were lying on his bed, Thomas under him, both flushed and out of breath. Thomas' one hand was on Alastair's waist, and the other - in his hair. But there was tension on his face that he didn't like.

Alastair's hand was beside Thomas' head while the other low on his stomach. Alastair pulled back and whispered, “It's alright.”

He rolled over on his back beside Thomas and said, “Do you want to hear about Morocco?”

He felt how Thomas' body relaxed. “Yes,” he said. Alastair could hear the smile on his lips. “I would love to.”

If there was something more impossible than this scene, Alastair wouldn't believe it. Because here he was, with Thomas Lightwood in his bedroom and he was laughing like when he and Cordelia were children.

It was unbelievable but so much alive that Alastair could touch it. His impossible truth. The relationship he had with Charles seemed so insignificant now. When Alastair was with him, he was always worried and anxious, unsure what to do. When he was with Thomas, he was feeling like he could fly.

When their laugh faded, Thomas said, “Adelbaram,” Alastair's heart always skipped a beat when Thomas call him that. He hoped he would never get used to it. “I want to ask you something for a while.”

“What is it?” Alastair said.

“Well,” Thomas began. He hesitated for a moment. “It's about Matthew.”

Alastair frowned. He remembered the days at the Academy and he filled with anxiety. He didn't like to think about this time. There were too much things to regret.

Alastair didn't say anything. Just waited for Thomas to continue.

“He… he mentioned that you have said something to him. The day he, James and Christopher left the Academy. What it was?”

Alastair closed his eyes for a moment. He was so angry back then. Full with pain and hate he wanted everyone to experience.

“Alastair?”

He looked at Thomas. He wanted to say that he didn't remember or it was nothing important but he couldn't. His hazel eyes were looking at him and expected the truth. Alastair couldn't, didn't want to, lie to him. Thomas was the truest thing in his life and he wouldn't let it be lost in lies.

So Alastair told him. He repeated everything he said to Matthew Fairchild that day. He told him everything else he said about the Merry Thieves in the Academy and how sorry he was for it.

Alastair apologized to Thomas. He felt shame thinking about these days. It was killing him. He owed the rest of the boys apology too.

In the end, there was silence. Alastair was feeling like he was drowning in it.

“Thomas, please,” he said. “Say something.”

Thomas slowly looked at him. There was… shock. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something but didn't. He looked away.

“I… I need to think about it,” he finally said and got up from the bed they still was lying on. Thomas left like he was in a trans. Alastair heard him getting down on the steps. Opening the front door. And closing it.

It was a pain worse than any spear.

• • • • • •

The next day Alastair received a letter for an emergency meeting of the Enclave in the Institute.

Alastair washed his face with cold water, dressed up, grabbed a few spears and left the house.

When he arrived he was surprised to see so many people already there. What was strange though was that part of them talked to each other, visibly worried, while other part just stood with stone faces.

Alastair saw Augustus Pounceby and approached him.

“What's going no here?” he asked him.

Pounceby shook his head.

“You wouldn't believe it. I heard it this morning from my father. It's about Charles Fairchild.”

Alastair frowned.

“He organized a special group to hunt the Ignis demons. A group which members are only relatives to injured Shadowhunters.”

Alastair took a sharp breath. “By the Angel.”

“There is more,” Pounceby said. “The list with the members is already done. It's not allowed to join anymore.”

Alastair thought about Thomas. Thomas who probably was still hurt. Who had an injured relative.

“Is… is there any paper with the members?”

Pounceby frowned. “I don't know. Probably Charles knows them all.”

Alastair didn't want to ask him. He tried again.

“Did you know who joined?”

“Not all but,” Pounceby said. “I heard a few names. I know Catherine Townsend joined in the last moment because her father was injured during his patrol tonight.”

“Is there…” Alastair wasn't sure he has it in himself to ask. He didn't want to know the answer if it was yes. “Is there any Lightwoods?”

Pounceby frowned like he was trying to remember. “Yes, I think so. Christopher and Thomas Lightwood.”

This words felt like kick in the stomach.

Alastair fast looked around, trying to see if Thomas was in the crowd. He needed to talk to him immediately.

The meeting was starting already. The Shadowhunters were moving. But no matter how hard Alastair looked, Thomas wasn't here.

The special group of Charles was going in Camberwell tonight. The place where the Ignis demons attack started. The most dangerous place in London at the moment.

Alastair wanted to scream. He needed to talk with Thomas right now. He would never forgive himself if something happened to Thomas.

Alastair knocked at the opened door as he entered. “Hello?”

Lucie Herondale raised her head from what she was writing and looked at him. She was surprised to see him. It was strange, really. This was his sister's parabatai, a sixteen years old girl he barely spoke with.

“Oh, hello,” she said. “The Enclave meeting is already over. If you want to speak with my father…”

“No, no. I… I came to speak with you.”

Lucie arched her eyebrows. “Oh, well. What's the matter then?”

“Do you know where I can find Thomas?”

Something flashed in her eyes. “Sorry, I'm not sure where he is at the moment,” she said. “We have appointment after a few hours. Then he goes with Charles group to patrol,” she frowned a little as she mentioned the group. Alastair could see the she didn't approve. And was worried.

Alastair thanked her and left. He wanted just to wait in front of the Institute for Thomas but his mother and sister were waiting for him in the carriage.

They were talking something about the Ignis demons and London but Alastair couldn't bring himself to care. He dug fingernails into his palm. This pain was easier to bear than the anxious feeling in his stomach.

• • • • • •

Alastair went to patrol early. There were still sunlight.

His place for tonight was Lambeth. He should wait for two more Shadowhunters to patrol with but instead he went to the border of Camberwell. At the street he heard the special group was going to gathering.

As he approached, he saw them. Around twenty Shadowhunters, most of them young, waiting to face the death. Alastair searched the crowd for Thomas. Most of them were drawing runes on each other or checking their weapons. Finally he spotted Thomas, a little aside from everyone else.

Thomas doesn't like crowds, crossed his mind.

As Alastair started walking toward them, he saw that Thomas was talking with someone. Christopher Lightwood. It seemed like they're arguing. Thomas was saying something while his cousin was shaking his head.

As he got closer, he heard them:

“...seriously do this? Kit, this so dangerous, we can't just…”

“You heard what Anna said,” interrupted Christopher. “About that warlock. If we never get close to a Ignis demon, we would never…”

“Excuse me,” Alastair said. He felt embarrassed but the last thing he wanted was to overhear their conversation.

Thomas turned to him, his eyes expanded a little as he saw Alastair.

“Thomas, can I speak with you? In private,” Alastair asked. He felt unsure now, tense, in the face of Thomas.

But then he nodded and turned to Christopher one more time. “Think about what I said. Please.”

Then Thomas and Alastair was left alone. Alastair took a deep breath.

“Thomas, listen, I know I did bad things and I…”

“Alastair, stop,” Thomas said. He closed eyes and sighed. Opened them. “Please stop.”

Alastair waited. He was drowning.

“I thought about this a lot,” Thomas continued. “I was upset at the beginning. These rumors cased my family a lot of pain. Matthew's as well. James was suffering at the Academy too. I was angry that back then you… repeated this awful words,” Thomas paused. Alastair couldn't breathe. “But… but knowing you now, seeing how sorry you are… That you realize how hurtful it was and… and knowing things about you I didn't know back then... I can't really be angry at you for long. I forgive you. I don't know about Matthew or James but I forgive you.”

Before Alastair could say something or melt from relief, a voice interrupted them.

“The sunset came,” someone shouted. “It's time to go!”

Thomas anxiously looked at the person who said it. “I need to go.”

“Wait!” Alastair grabbed Thomas for the arm before he could turn around. “Why you joined this group then? We both know it's stupid and too dangerous. You don't do things like this.”

Thomas' face turned sad. “To look after Christopher. The rest wanted to join too, for him, but there wasn't enough time…”

“It's time to enter Camberwell!”

“I really need to go.”

Alastair squeezed his arm. Looked right into Thomas beautiful brown eyes.

“Noore cheshmam,” he said quietly, almost whispered so no one but Thomas to hear. “Zen'har. Khahesh.”

Thomas' face softened. “Alastair, azeez…”

“Come on everyone!”

Thomas eyes was warm. He whispered, “I promise that I will come back.”

Then he gently removed Alastair's hand from his and went to the rest of the group.

Thomas looked back at him. Their eyes crossed. One last glance between lovers, before one of them disappeared.

Alastair stood there for a long time, even when he couldn't see Thomas anymore.

• • • • • •

Dictionary

adelbaram - the thief of my heart noore cheshmam - the light of my eyes zen'har - take care, be carful khahesh - please azeez - darling, dear, sweetheart

You can look at the London's map to get a better idea of the mentioned places.

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thomaslightwood · 4 years

Text

Light || Thomastair one shot

@cartwrightsgrace Iz, this is special gift for you because I'm still very hurt by this. And no, I'm not gonna go over it.

Warning: it's sad.

Go check the dictionary in the end if you want

Please excuse my bad english.

And please, ignore it's a trash, thank you

Words: 1 357

Enjoy

•

The night was cold. He could feel it through his clothes, skin and muscles, right into his bones.

The only warm thing on this planet was the body in his hands that was dying.

“Please,” Alastair whispered. “Please, don't leave me.”

It was so cold. So cold that Alastair couldn't feel his fingers or legs. But his heart was save and warm in his chest, breaking in thousands, millions pieces. It wouldn't matter though. Because Thomas was in his arms, his belly torn apart and by the Angel there was so much blood and Thomas was Alastair's life. And he was dying.

Thomas looked at him, barely able to keep his eyes open. His beautiful, hazel eyes. They were so warm. So beautiful. Thomas was so beautiful.

“Adelbaram,” he murmured softly. “The thief of my heart. You…” Thomas groaned from pain.

There was so much blood, Raziel, so much.

“Thomas,” Alastair desperately said his name. “Thomas, please, stay with me, by the Angel.”

Thomas looked at him again.

“Alas,” he breathed. “I… I love you.”

“No!” Alastair closed his eyes to stop the tears. “No! Don't. They will find us soon. The Silent Brothers will heal you and you will be fine and then you can tell me whatever you want.”

When he looked at Thomas again he saw tears. He didn't know it was possible but his heart was broken again. One piece of it was destroyed with every Thomas' tear.

“Alastair,” he choked. “Alastair. You're so beautiful. You were amazing. You… you're the thief of my heart,” he smiled. “You have always been.”

“Please,” Alastair cried. “The light of my eyes, my jan, don't. Thomas, please.”

Thomas was crying. His face was covered in blood and tears. This sign was so unbearable that Alastair hugged him even tighter, Thomas' face in his neck. Alastair could feel his insteady breath.

“You shall be fine,” Alastair said with closed eyes. Tears escaped down his cheeks. He couldn't stop them anymore. “You shall be fine, noore cheshmam,” Alastair wailed. “I can't live without you. Without you nothing of me matters. You're my heart, my will to move, my jan. Please. Thomas, please.”

Thomas sobbed. “Thank you. Thank you for loving me, for every kiss and hug, for every gentle word. They mean the world,” he barely take a breath. “You mean the world. You… you are everything, Alastair Carstairs,” he sighed. “You are light.”

The day too.

The night was cold.

The sun.

The sunlight.

Everything was cold.

Alastair felt it in his soul.

When they found them, Alastair didn't notice it. He wished he could stop the time around them. This way he could die with his Thomas.

He shouldn't be so cold. It was wrong. Someone with so much love in himself never should be that cold. And here they were.

Alastair closed his eyes.

•

Thomas wanted to tell him that he is loved him. He repeated it so many times already but Alastair couldn't hear him. No one did.

He followed him into the room of his mother. Alastair looked tired. Aged. There was this wrinkles in the corner of his eyes and mouth that seemed to never disappear. His jaw was tight. Hands always in gloves. Thomas wanted to hug him, to hold him until he was better. But he would never be able to do it again.

“Alastair,” he whimpered. “Alastair, please. Hear me. Hear me, see me!”

Nothing.

Thomas felt useless. The one he loved the most was in pain and Thomas couldn't help him.

Sona passed away soon after the baby was born. So soon she couldn't name her son.

When Thomas saw Alastair's expression he wanted to scream. And he did. There wasn't anyone who could hear him.

Alastair named the baby because Cordelia was in England and there wasn't anyone other from the family.

When Thomas heard the baby's name he felt like crying.

It was Majnun Thomas Carstairs.

•

Sometimes Thomas thought about his family. His friends. Alastair never returned in London so Thomas never saw them again.

But he missed them. Sometimes was ready to get back in London to see his sisters' weddings or James and Cordelia's son. Simply to watch Christopher doing his experiments or the Merry Thieves' room in Devil Tavern.

But then he looked at Alastair, adelbaram, and these thoughts just disappeared.

He couldn't leave him alone. Never. Never ever.

•

Thomas was looking at Alastair's red coat through the ballroom. Now he was in his thirties. With more scars, more wounds.

“Hey kid,” someone asked.

Thomas turned to the other ghost. It was a woman in her late forthies. Her black dress was covered in blood.

“Who are you?” she asked curiously. “I haven't see you here before.”

“I'm nobody,” Thomas said simply. “And don't worry about me. I'm not here for long.”

“Oh,” her expression turned soft. “You're sad soul, aren't you?”

Thomas didn't reply. He didn't has it in himself to do it.

“Why do you chose to stay though? I can see ghost life isn't for you.”

“I didn't choose to stay here just for itself,” he said, feeling sudden pain.

“Then why are you here?”

In the following silence Thomas looked at Alastair. He could see gray in his hair.

“Because the one I love begged me to stay.” he whispered. “I couldn't leave him alone.”

•

It was painful to watch Alastair with so much gray in his hair. To watch him grow old while Thomas was forever a boy.

Thomas whished so many times Alastair to find someone else. To be happy with him. But for years Alastair lived only with Majnun in Devon. And after Majnun brought his own house in Paris Alastair lived alone. Well, Thomas was with him of course. But Alastair didn't know, Thomas thought with pain. He was so lonely. He thought that he was alone but that wasn't true. Thomas was always by his side.

Every year, on the day Thomas died, Alastair went to that bookstore in Paris where they meet at their travel year. Where everything began. Even when it was closed, he still came to the same place and spend a few hours there.

Every time Thomas felt so heartbroken that he thought it couldn't be worse. But he was wrong.

Every year it became harder and harder. He wanted to hug him, to touch him, to kiss him. He wanted to make him feel loved. But he could never ever do it again.

•

For so many years he talked to Alastair, telling him he loved him and that everything was gonna be alright.

But now, Thomas was looking at his fully gray hair, the wrinkles all over his face and thought… it wasn't fine. Nothing was fine anymore. It never has been.

Alastair distances himself from people who loved him, accepting the solitude. He wanted the solitude. Because he was grieving. He grieved all his life, all these years. Thomas wanted Alastair to stop, even to forget him if it was need, and to be with someone who loved him. Thomas always had the hope, deep in his heart, that Alastair was going to find happiness again.

But now, after so many years, Alastair closed his eyes. And didn't open them anymore.

•

Thomas was above suffering. In his being was left only sorrow.

It was like breathing. Unable to be escaped or stopped even for while.

For so many years he talked to Alastair, no matter no one could hear him, because he felt like he was losing his mind. His sanity was the only thing that death didn't stole from him.

Now he realized it was pointless. Absolutely, unbelievably pointless. Because in the end he was alone. He was far, far away. Alastair wasn't there to hug him anymore. No one was.

Every little thing he could remember about his short time with Alastair when he was alive, was hurting. It was pure pain to watch him grow old and die. But those precious memories were a killer. He was already dead but he felt like dying.

Thomas wanted his the thief of his heart so much.

He closed his eyes, hoping the light would show him the way home.

•

Dictionary

jan - life

adelbaram - the thief of my heart

noore cheshmam - the light of my eyes

Thank you for reading.

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