Stranded in Time | Matthew Fairchild

Chapter III

Awkward introductions were made to the Herondale children, Lucie and James, one of whom was bedridden after an encounter with a greater demon. Dozing by his side in a chair was a lithe boy about the same age with a mop of golden hair, who James introduced as Matthew Fairchild, his parabatai, in light of his unconscious state.

Lucie, upon introductions, had questions.

"You're a Herondale from a different timeline?" She asked, quizzical after being left in the library with you.

"Well, yeah." You replied, unsure of how much you should tell.

"Are you... you said you were born far in the future, so are you James'...?" she asked, clearly avoiding insinuating her brother having had children.

"Oh, no - my ancestor would have been your father's uncle - I think. His name was Tobias Herondale." You replied, seeing the relief on Lucie's face.

"Oh, so we're practically cousins!" she concluded cheerfully. "I suppose that's how we'll explain this. You'll have to be a Herondale cousin a few generations removed - from America?"

"Yep, Los Angeles." You confirmed, relieved for yourself that she was so on board with this plan.

"Perfect! Half the enclave have never lived outside of Idris or England anyway, so I don't think they'll ask many questions."

You smiled and meant to thank her when the doors of the library opened and the sleeping boy from earlier came walking in.

"Lucie, Jamie has just told me the strangest story and I'm certain that he must be pulling my leg, is it -" he began, but fell short upon seeing you. You felt a little self conscious - seeing as your clothes from earlier were a red flag to this time period, you had been leant some old dresses from the attic - simple things, like the blue cotton gown you now wore, and a pair of boots borrowed from Lucie at Tessa's behest. You met his gaze and, feeling your cheeks redden, smoothed your hands over your dress.

"Matthew!" Lucie exclaimed. "It's awful rude of you to come barging in. I'm not wholly sure of what my brother told you, but this is Y/N, a cousin of ours, as it happens, but apparently not of this time." She gestured to you and you offered a weak smile.

"Hi." you offered, and internally cringed at the awkwardness of it.

"Hello." He replied, and crossed the room to offer you his hand. He was at least 4 or 5 inches taller than you, but her bent to kiss your hand when you offered it instead of shaking. "I don't believe we've had the opportunity to meet." he said, and the smile he flashed you made even your cynical heart flutter. This boy knew he was beautiful, and it seemed, knew exactly how to use that knowledge.

"Oh, well, you were asleep when I was introduced to James." you explained without thinking, and then immediately froze as you realized how strange and borderline creepy it sounded. Matthew, still bent to your eye level, flushed a shade of pink.

"My apologies, then." He faltered, and then cleared his throat. "My name is Matthew Fairchild. James is my parabatai, and I am intent not to leave this residence until he has finished convalescing."

"Y/N Herondale." you meekly replied, "But you already heard that. I'm sorry, I didn't mean for that come across as rude."

"No offense taken, Y/N." he assured you, and his smile took off some of your nerves.

Lucie, thank god, broke the bubble of awkward that had formed in your exchange. "Anyway, Matthew, we've decided she's going to pose as a cousin of ours from America. That way, we don't have to explain quite so much about why she's here."

He gives her an assessing look and then asks, "But do we tell the Merry Thieves?"

Lucie shrugs, unbothered. "That's for James to decide, I think. I imagine I'll be telling Cordelia, seeing as she is to be my parabatai."

As you examine Matthew quietly as he is distracted, you don't miss that he flinches slightly at the mention of the other girl's name. Interesting. You'd have to pay attention when you met this Cordelia, and see what the relationship between the two was.

"Very well, then." Matthew said, more resigned now. "I'll be returning to Jamie's bedside, now, I think."

Before leaving, he smiled warmly at you and sketched a mock-bow. "Miss Herondale, and Miss Herondale." he said comically to you and Lucie.

Several hours later, someone rapt on the door of the room you had been set up in. Having scavenged a copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray from the library, you had resumed where you had left off before. Looking up, you called out, "Hello?"

Lucie opened the door, and poked her head inside. "Do come, Y/N! Cordelia is here and I would like to introduce you!"

You set down your book and followed her out, and down the hall was a taller girl of rich brown skin and red hair. She smiled politely at you, but you sensed tension in her stance.

"Cordelia Carstairs, do meet Y/N Herondale. Now, Y/N, I've told her of your situation, so don't fret." Lucie said, standing between you two.

Cordelia nodded to you. "Pleased to meet you, though I admit, I don't quite understand what your 'situation' means."

You laughed awkwardly. "I'm not so sure either, to be honest."

"Regardless, it's a pleasure. I'm told you'll be here in London until the matter is resolved?" She continued.

"Uh, yep. However long that is." You replied, feeling stunted by the good manners and eloquence of the Edwardian era that did not carry over to your 21st century self. A glimmer caught your eye over her shoulder, and you asked, "Is that Cortana?"

Cordelia beamed. "Yes! It is a Carstairs heirloom sword."

"I know! I'm uh, acquainted with the bearer of it in my time. Her name's Emma Carstairs, and she's pretty cool." You said enthusiastically. This made Cordelia falter a bit, considering the implications of another bearer of Cortana, but she quickly fixed her expression.

"How lovely. If you don't mind, I'm to see James, now that he's more recovered, so I must take my leave, Y/N." She said, perfectly cordial but clearly eager to leave this conversation. As she turned down the hall, you cast an enquirent look to Lucie, but she was oblivious to it as she stared adoringly at her best friend.

Oh well. Perhaps you'd have to pick up more on your manners.