Prologue
August 17th, 2016
Jem stood outside the room, pacing with agitation as he listened to the labored breathing resonating throughout the LA institute.
Is she all right? He wondered nervously, vaguely remembering from long ago in his silent brother days the difficult births of Will’s children. How Tessa had labored, all those years ago; the births had taken hours upon hours, and he had held her hands through every moment. He longed with every fiber of his being to go into the room and comfort her, to hold her hand like he had done then, to urge her to push harder, to breathe more.
But as this birth was bringing his child into the world, by law, only silent brothers could be present.
And as he was no longer a brother, he was left outside to wonder about how Tessa was faring. The suspense was killing him, it seemed Tessa had been struggling for far too long.
Suddenly, there was a loud scream, and then, silence.
Jem held his breath for a solid minute before a loud cry pierced the heavy silence. He gulped in air, relief filling his lungs. He had hardly noticed the lack of oxygen, his nervousness overwhelming his body.
“Tessa!” He shouted, running to the door. It opened to him and he rushed into the small birthing room. He beheld a single bed against the back wall, a brown haired figure slumped amid the sheets. Brother Enoch, his pale bone colored robes nearly blending in with the white walls, placed a hand on his arm.
She is well. Both her and the child. You may see them now.
Jem had the faintest sense that Brother Enoch was smiling, if he could have smiled. He smiled warmly back at him, grateful for the good news. He ran to the bed where Tessa lay, falling to his knees at her bedside. Her long brown hair was strewn across the pillow, matted with sweat, and her face was strained with tiredness, but Jem felt she had never looked more beautiful. In her arms she held a small, well swaddled bundle with dark hair peeping out of the blue blanket.
“Jem,” Tessa whispered, exhaustion tinging her sweet voice. “Meet your son.”
At those words, Jem smiled so widely Tessa worried his face might break. She had only seen him look so ecstatic three times before: one, when she had agreed to marry him in London, two, when she had taken him with her after his time with the silent brothers had ended, and three, when she had said “I do” to him nearly 7 years ago at Blackfriars bridge.
“May I…?” His voice trailed off with uncertainty as he reached out for Liam. Tessa smiled and handed him over. He gingerly took him into his arms and cuddled him close to his chest.
"I was thinking to name him Liam." Tessa breathed, her voice like pure air.
“Liam.” Jem whispered, almost reverently, as the baby wrapped his tiny hands around Jem’s index finger.
“Short for William.” Tessa replied softly. Jem gave a sharp intake of breath, and a single tear rolled down the rune scar on his high cheekbones.
“Of course.” He murmured, watching as baby Liam opened dark lashed eyes to gaze upon his father alertly. His eyes were Tessa’s gray, but flecked with brighter shades of silver, the way Jem’s had once been. Jem looked steadily into his son’s eyes as he quietly spoke. “Bright eyes and black hair. Like his namesake. He will be a great Shadowhunter. It is a fitting name.”
Tears stung Tessa’s eyes as she watched her husband gaze at their son in wonder. “Jem…” She began. His now dark brown eyes snapped up to meet hers. They were filled with joy and awe. “I love you, my dearest.”
She smiled at Jem, her heart full to bursting. How lucky must I be, to have this small beauty as well as my husband?
Jem hugged Liam a little closer to himself as he sat near Tessa on the bed. He smiled at her, placing a kiss to the damp curls at her temple.
“And I love you too. I’ve never been more proud.” Tessa grinned, but her eyes were tired. “But for now, sleep, my love. Birthing is hard work. Sleep while you can.” He placed his long fingers to her lips and traced them gently. “You will be a fine mother.”
“And you will be a wonderful father.” Tessa murmured, her eyes drooping with exhaustion, already fading off to sleep.
Jem sat holding Liam, remembering Will, and thinking of the future.
~
December 10th, 2018
“JACE! JACE I HATE YOU!”
Jace was standing outside the door of the birthing room in the New York Institute, listening to Clary scream through the door at him.
“HOW DARE YOU PUT ME IN SUCH PAIN.”
“CLARY, IF I REMEMBER CORRECTLY YOU WERE QUITE PLEASED TO BE PUT IN THIS STATE” Jace shouted back at her, a mischievously wicked grin plastered on his face.
Jocelyn rolled her eyes as Jace continued to converse with Clary at much too high a volume.
“Only you two would talk during labor.” She muttered. Jocelyn sat stiffly as she remembered how quiet Clary’s birth had been, and how loud her cries had echoed.
“JACE!” Clary shrieked, her scream reaching an unearthly pitch.
Then there was silence.
Jace, who had been unsuccessfully trying to peek through the keyhole, suddenly stiffened as a child’s cry echoed throughout the institute, the mischievous grin wiped clean off his face. As soon as the sound faded away, however, he was on his feet, pounding mercilessly on the door.
“BROTHER ENOCH! I heard the child! The birth is over! LET ME IN!”
A soft click, and the door opened. Jocelyn nearly giggled as she heard his echoing mind voice. If he could have made an exasperated face, she was sure he would have. Jace could try the patience of saints. Heaven only knew how many times Jocelyn had wanted to smack some sense into him.
Clary is fine. You may see her and the child now.
Jace sprinted into the room, nearly pushing Brother Enoch out of the way in his haste to reach his wife.
“Clary!” Her red hair was falling out of its ties, curls going everywhere. She smiled brightly at him, a thin sheen of sweat on her brow.
“Jace, I fully blame you for this.” She pretended to look stern, but then laughed softly as she cradled a white swaddled bundle in her arms.
“I take all responsibility.” Jace replied, sitting gingerly at her side. He tentatively reached out and placed his long fingers on the small bundle. “Boy? Or girl?” He whispered, his gold eyes uncertain.
“Girl.” Clary beamed, adjusting the blanket so Jace could see their newborn. Her soft tuft of blonde hair flopped gently as it was freed from its swaddle. “Seraphine. It means burning fire. Take one look at her eyes and you’ll see.” She whispered.
“Seraphine?” Jace called quietly. The baby stirred slightly, opening large eyes to reveal their color.
Jace let out his breath in a rush.
“Do you see her?” Clary’s green eyes sparkled as she watched Jace. “She’s beautiful.”
Seraphine’s eyes were gold, like Jace’s but yet not like his at the same time. They seemed to reflect the room's dim light, or to glow with light from within.
“She will be our burning fire. It has been a while since we had to deal with that, right?” Jace chuckled as he thought back to the times he and Clary had struggled with combustion issues.
“Of course, of course.” Clary lay her head back on the pillow, looking worn. Jace took Seraphine from her, smiling from ear to ear.
“She is beautiful, Clary. I can see her beauty in you.” Clary smiled, but exhaustion kept her eyes closed. Jace hummed a lullaby as she drifted to sleep.