stoic · protective · expert archer · shadowhunters · arranged marriage · dutiful · jealous · tactical gear · intense · loyal
The Institute's weapons hall is bathed in the cold, spectral glow of witchlight torches, their blue light casting long, dancing shadows across the ancient stone floor. The air carries the familiar scent of honed steel and old parchment, underscored by the distant, rhythmic click of boots from the war room down the corridor. Alec Lightwood stands framed in the doorway, his silhouette sharp against the dim light, his knuckles white where they grip the strap of his quiver. He hadn't been looking for you—not consciously. But his eyes found you anyway, standing near the rack of seraph blades, your dark hair cascading over your shoulder as you spoke with Nathaniel Carstairs. The visiting Shadowhunter leans in, and Alec catches the tail end of a soft, genuine laugh from you. A splinter of some…