Hey!
For those of you who actually keep up with my TMI stories that are posted sporadically at best, I have another one for you! I've wanted to write this for so long and honestly I don't know why I didn't do it sooner. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Please read and review, and to my fellow Americans, happy Thanksgiving!
Clary wrung her damp hair out and deposited her used towel in the hamper on her way out of the bathroom, fresh out of the shower and pajama-clad. She'd been in the training room for the past two hours, practicing various fighting techniques to fine-tune her skills. She had long since completed her training as a Shadowhunter, even having embraced the life as late as she did, but she still enjoyed the practice and, as Jace was fond of reminding her, there was always room for improvement.
She crossed the room now to the bedside table in which she stored her sketchbook and pencils with the intension of finding somewhere to sit and draw to wait until everyone returned. She was currently alone in the Institute. Jace, as its Head, had been subjected to meetings in Idris all day and had left early that morning. Clary had stayed behind to keep an eye on things, not all that disappointed to miss out on the mind-numbing politics that was Clave meetings. Simon and Izzy, the Institute's only other permanent occupants, had left hours ago to sample cake flavors for their wedding and, though the bakery had surely closed a long time ago, they hadn't come back yet.
She opened the table's drawer but was disappointed to find that her sketchbook was not among the various items stored inside. She closed it and straightened, glancing around the room in search of them. The space was tidy as always and it didn't take long for her to determine that her drawing supplies were not in it. It was technically Jace's room, though she'd unofficially shared it for over a year. Clary had lived in the Institute on a permanent basis since shortly after her nineteenth birthday and still had her own bedroom there, the same one she'd used after first coming to the Institute at just shy of sixteen. It now served little purpose beyond housing the handful of her things that hadn't migrated to Jace's room yet.
With a sigh, she realized that her sketchbook was probably still in the foyer, where she'd left it a few days before. Co-running an Institute didn't allow for as much time for drawing as Clary would have liked and she hadn't used it since.
She approached the door, thinking that there were other things she would rather have been doing tonight than sketching alone in the Institute. Mostly because it was August 23, her twenty-first birthday, and she'd grown accustomed to Jace's tradition of spoiling her rotten on this day. He'd been extremely annoyed at having to miss her birthday in favor of meetings in Idris and had very seriously considered blowing them off until Clary had told him not to be stupid. Adulthood, as it turned out, meant responsibility.
The day hadn't been all bad. Simon and Isabelle had spent the majority of the day with her and she had enjoyed her time with them quite a bit, even if they were disgustingly loving with each other in light of planning their wedding. They just weren't Jace.
Clary made it a handful of steps from the bedroom door before a familiar voice sounded from behind her. "There you are." She turned, her prior pursuit forgotten, to find Jace, still wearing light Shadowhunter gear, closing the distance to her in the hallway. "I've been looking for you."
Clary, surprised, asked, "When did you get back? I didn't hear you come in."
Grinning, Jace replied, "I know. That was the point." At her expression, he added, "What, you didn't really think I was going to let Clave meetings keep me from missing your entire birthday, did you?"
"Actually, I wasn't aware you had a choice one way or the other."
Jace scoffed playfully, "Of course I had a choice. I had the choice of being the first one to leave the instant it was over."
"Oh," replied Clary reasonably, "I see."
"Good," said Jace, stepping closer now, "And since I am woefully behind in doing this today…" He kissed her, pulling her wonderfully closer still. Clary smiled as he deepened it. After a few glorious minutes, he pulled away just far enough to whisper, "Happy Birthday, Clary."
She smiled again, her forehead resting against his, their noses touching. "Thank you."
"I have a surprise for you," he murmured, "But I would completely understand if you'd rather we just stay right here. I don't think I would even be that upset."
"Isn't it kind of late?" It had to be at least eleven o'clock by now.
"Yes," Jace answered simply, "Is that a problem?"
Still smiling, Clary kissed him again but pulled away when he moved once more to deepen it. She almost laughed at the expression of disappointment he wore when she did. "Are we going somewhere? Should I change?" she asked.
Jace eyed her pajama shorts and the large, worn T-shirt that technically wasn't hers. "No need," he said, "I happen to like those shorts. I believe that shirt is mine though."
"I believe I don't care," answered Clary.
"You know, stealing is frowned upon in the Shadow World. And in most other places."
"I wear it better," Clary said with a smirk.
After a pause, Jace replied, "I have to agree with you there." Clary grinned wider and Jace, after looking at her for another second, smiled too. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, and then grabbed her hand. "Come on." He led her down the hallway, but at its end, rather than taking the turn that would lead them to the elevator, he led her in the opposite direction.
"Where are we-"
"You'll see," Jace interrupted, his voice gentle and quietly excited.
Clary didn't have to wait long before the answer became obvious though. As they passed through the big, empty, unused rooms that could lead only to the roof, she glanced beside her at Jace in realization and delight. "It's almost midnight," she said.
"No, it's barely eleven-thirty. We have plenty of time." Clary only smiled widely and continued to allow him to lead her, she knew now, to the greenhouse. When Jace opened the door and gestured for her to lead the way inside, the scent of damp earth and plants overwhelmed her and she found herself glancing around in wonder much like she had during her first visit to the Institute's greenhouse long ago. It had been years since she'd been inside it, but it was no less wonderful than it had been then the first time.
"How is it so well-maintained still?" she asked in wonder, looking around at the flourishing vegetation, "I'd always assumed it was abandoned after Hodge left." Not that she'd actually taken the time to see for herself. There had always been something else going on and she'd all but forgotten about it.
"It was for a while," Jace explained, guiding her through the glass-enclosed space. "After the second war I may or may not have had Magnus magic the place into taking care of itself, though admittedly, I haven't spent much time up here since you moved in." They reached a familiar glossy green shrub and Clary slowed to a stop, taking in the sight before her in awe.
It was a scene taken straight out of her sixteenth birthday, only better. Jace had set up a picnic blanket on the ground in front of the Midnight Flower plant. He took a seat and glanced back at her. "Come on," he said, patting the space beside him. "I didn't go through the trouble of setting this up to enjoy it alone."
Clary obliged and moved to sit next to him. "When did you do this?" she asked.
"This morning, when you were sleeping. I knew I would be gone all day but I was hell-bent on still celebrating with you, and it worked last time. It's not much, but…" He shrugged. "Here's hoping tonight ends better than it did the first time. And," he added, pulling a small bakery box from his jacket, which he revealed to contain a large chocolate cupcake, "I have actual cake this time."
"No cheese sandwiches though," Clary pointed out, attempting mock disapproval, but her smile gave her away.
"Nope, sorry. I thought they'd be rather inedible after sitting in my pocket all day." He'd produced a knife and now proceeded to cut the cupcake cleanly in two.
"That's too bad," she continued, "I was so impressed with them last time."
"Life is full of disappointments," Jace said, handing Clary her half. She took a bite. It was delicious.
She swallowed and said, "Thank you, Jace. This is perfect."
"Impossible. We haven't even made out yet."
Clary laughed. "Well, what are you waiting for then?"
"For you to finish your cupcake," he answered seriously, "I paid good money for that, you know."
She shrugged, smirking, and said, "Your loss," taking another bite. "How were your meetings?"
"Delightful. Stimulating as watching paint dry."
"I would have gone with you, you know."
"No. While having you there would have made listening to a bunch of crotchety old Council members argue about politics slightly more bearable, it's your birthday and I would never subject you to that if I had the choice."
"They aren't all old and crotchety."
"True, but the young, sensible ones aren't the reason I was stuck in the Gard for sixteen hours today."
Smiling, Clary set her cupcake down and shifted closer to him. "That's what you get," she said, "For taking over for Maryse as Head of the Institute."
"Maybe I should renege on that agreement."
"Good luck with that," replied Clary. She was about to demand he start kissing her if for no other reason than because it was her birthday, when the distant tolling of a bell disrupted the quiet, signaling midnight.
"Look," Jace murmured in her ear, pulling her to her feet and wrapping an arm around her. Clary, however, was already watching, entranced, as the closed buds on the plant before them, one by one, began to quiver and open, blossoming into the pale gold flowers. Watching them, leaning into Jace's warm side, she couldn't help thinking of just how far she'd come since the first time she'd stood here, five years earlier. It was incredible.
When the first flowers began shedding petals, Clary finally turned away from the miraculous shrub to find Jace staring at her. She met his eyes and held his gaze for a two count in which neither of them said anything as the moonlight shining through the glass walls flooded the greenhouse with a gentle glow. And only then did he finally kiss her.
Clary had, by this point, kissed him far more times than she could have counted, and yet doing so still affected her so violently and wonderfully every time. Her heart beating quickly beneath her chest, pressed close enough to him to feel the beating of his, she melted into it, and for that moment, nothing else in the world mattered. In fact, nothing else existed at all but the pure bliss that was kissing Jace Herondale.
After what could have been minutes or hours, he pulled back just enough that their lips were no longer touching. Both of them were breathing quickly and for another moment, they were both quiet. Then Jace said, "Marry me."
"What?" Clary asked, pulling back further to look at him.
"I love you, Clary. More than I can even tell you. I have since the very first time I brought you up here and I will for every day of the rest of my life; a life that I want to spend with you by my side." She was quiet, listening and, quite frankly, shocked into silence, not because she'd never imagined marrying him or because they'd never discussed it, but purely because she hadn't been expecting it tonight. It was actually happening. He continued, "You've seen me through so much, Clary. You've made me a better person. You've shown me what it means to love. And I can never repay you for that, but I want to try. I want to wake up beside you every morning knowing that you are mine forever. I want you to share my name, even though you hate how 'Clary Herondale' sounds. I want to spend the rest of my days with you. So," he paused now and, taking the Herondale family ring off his finger, got down on one knee before her and said, "Clarissa Adele Fairchild, will you marry me?"
Clary gaped at him for a second and then, as her expression of shock morphing into a smile, nodded. "Yes."
Jace smiled beatifically, got to his feet and slid the ring onto the fourth finger of her outstretched left hand, where it seemed to resize itself to fit perfectly. He then wrapped his arms around her and, lifting her feet off the floor, kissed her with renewed vigor. It was everything and so much more than everything she'd ever imagined getting engaged would feel like.
He set her on her feet again and Clary broke away to catch her breath while Jace changed to trailing kisses down her neck and collarbone and back again. When he reached her lips once more, he rested his face close to hers. Their noses touching, he murmured, "I love you so much. So much."
"I love you too," she whispered, and kissed him again. "Did you plan to do that?"
"At some point, yes. But you are intoxicatingly beautiful in your pajama shorts and I saw no reason to wait." He kissed her forehead and Clary smiled. "Promise me one thing though," he said then.
"Yeah?"
"Promise me that we will have more dignity during this engagement process than my sister and Simon have proven to." Clary laughed. "Because I'm ready to kill them myself."
"Yes," she said, "I promise."
"Good," Jace said, smiling himself. He then pulled her into his lap and set to kissing her again, effectively ending their spoken conversation for a while.
Thanks for reading!