A/N: Thought this would be a cute idea, since Clare said that Will feels pretty protective towards Cecily. See the bottom for English translations.
Will ducked his head into the collar of his coat, shielding as much as his face from the wind and rain as possible. He hurried down the street, keen to spend as little time here as possible. The memory of his last visit still haunted him…
He walked swiftly around the corner and was about to cross the street when he took an absentminded glance behind him, for no reason, really, but was glad he did. Something had caught his eye It was the corner of dark blue cloak lined with black lace darting quickly behind the building he walked along. Will frowned and stopped in his tracks, retracing his steps until he was at the staircase leading up to the door of the building. Standing there in the alcove with a furious look on her face was Cecily.
"What are you doing here?" Will demanded.
"I could ask you the same question," Cecily shot back, pulling down her hood and revealing her long raven black hair, pulled back with a indigo ribbon. "I was getting a pitcher of water for my room and saw you leave. You haven't changed at all, brawd mawr*. Always wandering."
"You haven't changed much either," Will said. "You can never leave anything alone. Go home now. I don't want you here."
"I don't know the way," Cecily said. "I haven't spent as much time in London as you have, Will. Where are we, anyway?" She pulled her cloak closer to her.
"The East End," Will said. "Whitechapel. I need to get something."
"Take me with you," Cecily said abruptly.
Will shook his head. "I don't want to. You're too young to get mixed up in a place like this."
"Well, what am I supposed to do?" Cecily asked. "I already said I don't know how to get back, and I can't stay here."
Will studied his sister, torn. Whatever he chose, he wouldn't be entirely comfortable with it. He didn't want to drag her along to the ifrit den, but he didn't want to let her go off by herself trying to find her way out of the East End by herself. No. The thought of his sister roaming through the streets of one of London's seediest areas alone late at night was enough to make him shudder. It would be better to let her come along wit him—at least he would be able to keep an eye on her.
"All right," he said. "All right. You can come with me. But don't leave my side for one second. Don't say a word. Don't look at anyone. Keep your head down and stay close."
Feeling suddenly worried, Cecily didn't argue and did what was asked of her. She slipped her arm into Will's and they set off.
"It's just a little further," Will said, nearly running.
"Slow down!" Cecily protested, hurrying to keep up.
Will lessened his pace a little, but not by much. All of his senses were on full alert.
A short, greasy looking man intercepted them at the next block, holding a candle in one hand and a box of wilting flowers in the other. Will reached into his pocket, feeling his knife.
"A daisy for the pretty girl?" the man asked Cecily, leering terribly at her and reaching out, catching hold of her cloak and bringing her to a halt.
She gasped and immediately made to pull her cloak out of his grasp, but froze completely when the man's hand moved to her wrist. Right away, Will pulled out his knife and was pointing it him. "Touch her any longer with your filthy hands and you'll go right to hell," he growled.
The man loosened his grip and with a tug, Cecily wrenched her hand out of his grasp, thoroughly frightened. She and Will left the man faster than ever, Cecily not complaining this time.
"See why I don't want you here?" Will muttered, looking around. "Full of suspicious characters, all just wanting to ravage some girl for himself."
"Don't—" Cecily said, and Will heard to his surprise, a touch of vulnerability. It was the first time he had ever seen her scared.
Neither of them said anything more for the rest of the way, and fortunately, they weren't met with any others. Finally, the reached the building Will was looking for. He knocked twice. While they waited, Cecily stared at the place. The door they were at was clear of people, but around them at other buildings, it was different. Men and women crowded the doors of them, singing and laughing hysterically after a night's worth of heavy drinking. Many of the women, who were clearly whores, wore very promiscuous clothing, men gazing after them with lust. Cecily had never seen such a sight.
The opening of the door startled her. A woman dressed in similar clothing to the prostitutes had answered. Will spoke with her, and she led them into a narrow hall. Cecily could smell something sweet as they ventured further in, a smell that reminded her of Jem. She finally realized why Will was here.
When the hall widened, she saw a room what she imagined might have been on a boat. Bunks were attached to the dark red walls, men lying on them, obviously under the influence of some drug. Opium? She remembered her father reading about the drug in and the Chinese in the paper and how there was trouble with it.
Will pulled her along. "I need more of the yin fen," he said. "I know there's not much, but I have this—" He held out a bag full of coins.
The woman looked inside. "Oh, what a handsome payment," she purred. "What a wonderful boy. Getting more for your silver friend." She gave Will a pouty look that made Cecily gag. "Not enough, I'm afraid…a kiss might make up the price…"
Will grabbed the woman by the collar of her dress. "Listen, warlock. I'm not here to play games. Just give me what I want. There's over seventy-five pounds in this bag; that's more than enough."
The woman, or the warlock, Cecily supposed, laughed and took the bag. "Very well, angel boy." She disappeared into another room, and Cecily gave a start when she saw a forked tail.
"Will—" Cecily breathed.
"Shh," Will whispered. He must have felt her jump. "Don't be afraid…"
Easier said than done, Cecily thought. She prayed that none of the men around would wake up and see her. She had had enough experience with strangers for one night.
Was this what Will had to go through whenever he went to get the drug for Jem? Cecily felt sorry for her brother, sad that he had to go through this horror so often.
The warlock returned, bearing another bag. Will tucked it into his pocket. "Thank you," he said curtly. "Come on, let's go," he said to Cecily quietly. She obeyed without any hesitation; this was the worst place she had ever been in her life.
It took them a while to navigate through the streets. Cecily let out a breath after she began to recognize the cleaner buildings and roads, signaling they were back in familiar—and safer—territory. "Will, what was that?" she asked.
"An ifrit den," her brother replied. "That's where I need to go for Jem's medicine."
"It was terrible."
"Then I don't ever want to see you there—or anywhere around the East End—again," Will said. "If you need an adventure, ask me for a novel. There's plenty of stimulation in Dickens."
A/N: Sorry if it's sloppy; I wrote this pretty quickly.