** Disclaimer: I do not own the Mortal Instruments characters but the original content, the idea and intellectual property are owned by Blonde Awesome M'Jane, 2011. Please, do not translate or reproduce without express written permission. **
A/N: I hope that you will all like this story. The idea came to and I just had to write it. I am happy with the result of the first chapter but of course I want you opinion on if it is worth to continue.
Chapter One
The invitation to the unwanted
"Trying hard to reach out
But when I tried to speak out
Felt like no one could hear me
Wanted to belong here
But something felt so wrong here
So I prayed I could break away"
- Kelly Clarkson, Breakaway
June 20'th 1899
Clarissa Fairchild. There was not a single soul that didn't know that name. Not a single soul that didn't know that face. Clarissa Fairchild. With luscious locks of divine red hair, petite figure that she carried with a grace that other women envied her for and a face so beautiful that men fell at her feet without her even trying.
Her father Valentine Morgenstern had had married into the wealthy Fairchild family at the young age of twenty-one. Clarissa had many times been told the tale of the two young lovers who had both come from two prosperous homes, how they had met and how happy they had both been when they had gotten married. However, Clary saw little of that now. Her father was often away on business and her mother couldn't care less about him or Clary as long as they both graced the rest of Manhattans elite with their presence to all the right events.
Clary was often referred to as "Manhattans Princess" because from a social standpoint they were royalty. They were as wealthy as you could get and more beautiful than you could imagine, they truly had it all. At least that is what it looked like from the outside.
…
Clarissa tried not to take any deep breaths as her handmaiden Maia tightened her corset. "I don't see why I must wear this wretched dress. I am merely going for a stroll in the park!" Clary demanded breathlessly. She fanned herself with her hand, trying to quench the flush that was rising to her cheeks
Maia yanked the ribbon even tighter, beads of sweat forming on her forehead as she continued to struggle. "It is the latest fashion Miss Clarissa, your father was kind enough to purchase it for you so you may at least wear it once." She told the young woman in a strict tone.
"I still do not see the point in wearing these torture devices!" She could feel Maia tying up the band and would have breathed out a sigh of relief if only she had been able to.
"Oh, hush," Maia said, brushing dust off the skirt of Clary's gown. "You look wonderful! Just think of how many men will be after you when you are wearing this, Miss Clarissa!" She said in a dreamy tone. "You might very well find yourself a suitor!"
Clary frowned and inspected herself in the mirror. Maia was correct, the gown did look beautiful. It brought out her thin waist and it made her chest look larger than it actually was. "I don't want men to chase after me," Clary reminded the handmaiden. "I don't want to be married to some ridiculous snob who only wants me for my social status or good looks." She swirled around, nearly smacking Maia with her hand in the process. "Don't you believe in true love?" She asked desperately, looking at the dark haired girl expectantly.
Maia rolled her eyes at her childish antics and straightened up to adjust the gown. "Why believe in something that does not exist?"
Now it was Clary's time to roll her eyes. "You believe in God, do you not?" She asked raising her eyebrows. "You have faith that He exists without any proof of it whatsoever."
"Of course," Maia spoke out in outrage her eyes wide open. "But it is hardly the same thing as-"
Clary cut her off. "I am done speaking about this. I would like you to finish getting me ready so that I can leave with the carriage."
Maia nodded before returning to grooming her superior. "Yes, of course Miss Clarissa."
Clary gave a curt nod in her direction. She was not particularly fond of speaking to Maia like that but she had definitely managed to push a button. Love was almost the one thing that kept her going. Just knowing that it was out there was feeding her hope. Hope for things to one day be different.
Maia arranged Clary's hair in a beautiful up-do, tucking in small floral pins into her hair and tugging down strings of stray curls down to frame her face. She took a step back, admiring her work for a minute, before leading her to the door. "There. You are ready to go, Miss Clarissa."
"Thank you, Maia." Clary said and opened her bedroom door, glancing back at her servant. "And you are to pick up a gown for me at the tailors. The Lightwoods are holding a masquerade ball this evening and father told me to look especially pristine so I'm expecting perfection. Oh, and tell Michel I said hello."
"Yes, Miss Clarissa." Maia said, bobbing her head in acknowledgement.
Clary shot her a small smile. "I will see you when I return from the park."
Without waiting for confirmation she closed the door behind her and slowly began descending down the staircase. She was walking like any woman should, with grace and poise. She tucked her hands behind her back and stopped at the end of the staircase, waiting for someone to come and take her to the carriage.
After only a few minutes one of the butlers arrived. "Good morning Miss Fairchild, your company is waiting for you outside."
Clary smiled politely. "Thank you."
The butler nodded. "Follow me, please."
Clary walked with the butler to the doors where she then told him to leave. He opened the doors for her and then left.
Her best friend Isabelle Lightwood was standing by the carriage dressed in an off-white corset gown similar to Clary's. The impatient expression that had been clouding her pretty features disappeared the moment she laid eyes on Clary. "Hello, Clary!"
Clary smiled widely as she approached Isabelle. "Hello to you too, Izzy." Clary winked as she called her by her nickname. "It's a lovely day today, isn't it?"
Isabelle nodded. "Yes!" She looked up at the bright blue sky before letting her gaze fall down to meet Clary. "Yes, it's an absolutely gorgeous day. The perfect day to hold the masquerade ball, isn't it?"
Clary nodded encouragingly. "It most certainly is. But what is the occasion this time?" The stable boy came over to them and assisted them both into the carriage. "Is it another charity ball perhaps?" Clary sat with a straight back and her head held high, she really didn't have an option with the corset on. It was definitely not something for people with tendencies to slouch.
Isabelle settled into the seat opposite to Clary. "No, we are celebrating the anniversary of my parents. Twenty years married." Isabelle shot her a dazzling grin and her eyes lit up with happiness. "Its quite amazing isn't it? I wish I would find a man soon."
Clary smiled softly. "You will, Izzy." She leaned forward and patted her friend's hand. "They would be insane not to marry you. You are one of the finest young ladies out there."
"So you are correct," Isabelle giggled.
Clary let out a small laugh before turning to the window. The carriage shook a little as the stable boy started the horses. She looked out at the moving trees. They were all a rich green colour that she adored. She suddenly wished for her sketchbook. She could only imagine painting the soft lines of the creek and the-
"Stop chewing on your bottom lip it's bound to fall off eventually," Isabelle said in a teasing voice snapping her out of her reverie.
Clary, who didn't realize what she had been doing, shut her mouth quickly. "Sorry," she said quickly, a small blush rising to her cheeks. "I got distracted."
Isabelle only smiled. "I can see why. You live in such a beautiful environment. You're lucky your mother did not want to live in the city. And this place is just a minute away from it; it was a miracle that you found it! Don't get me wrong, I adore Manhattan, but just looking at pavement all day can become a bit tedious."
"Mm-hmm," Clary murmured, glancing towards the window. "I do love it here. But you know that you're always welcome to visit me. You are my closest friend after all…"
"That's why I like you Clary," Isabelle beamed. "You're always so kind."
…
Grand Central Park was crowded this Saturday morning but people chose to not disturb the two walking young women. They were all aware of whom they were and even if they could admire them from afar they would never be brave enough to actually approach them.
Isabelle had bought a magazine of a stand in the street and was now reading it aloud to Clary. "Tonight Manhattans socialites will gather at the Lightwood mansion at the Upper East Side for the celebration of Maryse and Robert Lightwood's twenty years of marriage. A source has informed us that the Lightwoods close friends the Fairchilds will be there. Which means that Manhattans own princess will be at the ball. So suit up if you're a gentleman over the age of sixteen and under the age of twenty-five, the word is out that Miss Fairchild is currently in the search of a suitor!" Isabelle couldn't contain her laughter reading the final lines of the page.
Clary was appalled. "I am not looking for a suitor!" She exclaimed. A few snooping people gave her strange looks so she lowered her voice. "I am barely even eighteen yet! I don't see why I should be getting married so soon."
Isabelle folded the magazine shut. "People marry young Clary. You don't think that you can find a good husband by the time that you're thirty do you?" Isabelle shook her head at her naïve friend. "You should get yourself a good man before your looks begin to fade."
Clary wasn't sure if she should be upset or just offended by that comment. She was just about to make a rather rude accusation when she caught herself. A respectable young lady would never argue in a public setting, Jocelyn's words rang through her head. "So when do you propose that you start looking for a suitor?"
Isabelle almost swooned. "Soon I hope! I am so excited for the two of us. We make quite the pair, Clary! We will have men after us like a pack of dogs chasing after a stray cat!"
Clary stifled a shudder. Yes, because exactly like those cats Clary would be running away from the ones chasing her. Clary decided to switch the subject. "You know I have just finished reading a novel."
Isabelle rarely read books because she found them very confusing and very dull but decided to humour her friend. "Who wrote it?"
"Bram Stoker," Clary said.
"Well," Isabelle drawled. "What is it called and what is it about? Is it new or old?"
"It just came out this year, actually. It's called Dracula and it's about vampires and vampire hunters." Clary explained.
Isabelle's eyes widened. "Oh! You mustn't read about such wretched things, Clary!" Isabelle gushed.
"But it's an amazing book, Izzy." Clary tried to reason with her but Isabelle just turned her face away.
"No," Isabelle said with conviction. "Women are not meant to read such nonsense. You should stick with the magazines," she waved the one in her hand in front of Clary's face. "This is where all the important things can be read!"
Clary shot Isabelle a look. "It really is an amazing story Dracula."
Isabelle snorted. "Do you think that in a hundred years from not people will give a darn about vampires?" Isabelle demanded. "Do you think that anyone will even know about that book 'Dracule' or whatever you called it?"
"It's called Dracula." Clary corrected. "And neither of us have a clue what will happen a hundred years from now so that subject is sort of silly to discuss, don't you agree?"
Isabelle managed a shot nod. "I'd suppose…" She let her gaze wander for a second before landing on Clary again. "Are you getting your gown for tonight from Michel?"
"Yes," Clary said. "He is my favourite tailor after all…"
"That's what I thought," Isabelle said, nodding to herself. "He's getting a bit old, though. Don't you agree?"
Clary frowned. "He's barely even forty, Izzy!"
Isabelle made a gagging sound. "You should get someone younger. I would gladly set you up with Brenda. She is an amazing tailor!"
Clary rolled her eyes and tried her best to at least seem committed to the conversation she was having with her best friend when really her head was in the clouds.
…
Later that afternoon when Clary had returned from the park she was going up stairs to tell her father that dinner was ready when she overhead him speaking to someone on the telephone.
"Robert, why would you invite the Herondales to your masquerade ball? You know that he's one of my largest competitors in the industry." Clary heard Valentine speak. She recognized that voice. He was not in a good mood. Whoever these Herondales were, they would be smart to stay away. "I see… His son? Oh…" Clary wished that she could hear the other end of the conversation. "He sounds like nothing but trouble… What did you say his name was? Jonathan Herondale." There was a short pause. "Mm-hmm, we'll speak later Robert. See you tonight."
Clary quickly removed her head from where it was leaning on the door and straightened herself before knocking.
"Come in," Valentine said.
Clary opened the door and looked at her father curiously. "Dinner is ready."
"Good," Valentine said curtly, nodding his head in her direction before rising from his desk chair. He walked around his massive oak work table and over to Clary.
"Who are the Herondales?" Clary asked, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.
Valentine smiled. Clary could tell that it was forced. "Just some people that we're not very fond of darling."
Clary frowned. She didn't like it when he immediately expected her to have the same opinion as him on everything. She had a mind of her own. "Why not?" She asked boldly.
"They're trying to steal some of our clients," Valentine explained. "And Maryse invited them to the masquerade ball to welcome back their son. Apparently he's been living at a boarding school for a couple of years now. Nothing but trouble. Apparently they sent him there because he got into some pretty gnarly fights…" Valentine shook his head, staring at the wall, his mind clearly somewhere else.
Clary was surprised that her father had chosen to share this with her but she didn't voice her thoughts.
Suddenly Valentine's hand was on her shoulder and he was looking down at her with a half-smirk on his face. "I'm lucky that my daughter is so supportive and would never associate with such trash."
Clary didn't know what to say. So she merely managed a tight nod. "Let's go eat so that we can arrive to the ball early. I can have a chat with Izzy before all the others arrive."
Valentine patted his daughters shoulder before moving towards the door. "We'll see if we can manage that, Clarissa."
It's Clary, she though grimly before following Valentine.
The other chapter will be longer if you want me to continue this story. But I felt that since it was the first chapter I just kind of wanted to introduce the characters. Anyways… REVIEW and tell me if you want me to continue this!