Hey everyone! This is my first Fanfic ever, and I'm so sorry if anyone's OOC (Which, knowing me, everyone is). I'm not even down with TMI yet, but had to get these little monsters out somewhere! Reviews are appreciated, but not required. Oh, and if the language is too formal, this is set around the same time as Pirates of the Caribbean, so I really don't know if I'm doing either of these justice, but here's my attempt!

"Ouch! Clary, not so hard!" I tug at the strings of my lady's corset with less force this time. "Yes my lady." Isabelle Lightwood, my mistress, turns and looks at me affectionately. "Oh, drop the subservient act Clary. We're practically equals. And you only do that when someone else is in the room."

"Fine, Isabelle. Happy?" I smack my lady on her arm before continuing with the corset. She winces in pain. "Dear God, how does Mother stand to wear this? Clary dear, I think it's good enough." I tie off the strings into neat knots, and stare at my hands, striped red and white from the pulling. "Yes, I believe so. Which gown is the one you're wearing?"

"The red one." The dress in question is deep crimson, decorated with white lace. Quite racy for an unmarried woman of her status to be wearing. Isabelle Lightwood is the daughter of Robert Lightwood, governor of Alicante, Idris, and island in the Caribbean. I am merely her lady's maid.

"Clary Fray, you stop staring into space and help me with my dress!" Isabelle's voice snaps me out of my reverie. I am still not used to Clary Fray, rather than Clary Fairchild. I was forced to choose a new name after my Mother, Lady Jocelyn Fairchild, disappeared. I am not of the same status as Isabelle, I am the illegitimate daughter of Jocelyn Fairchild and a pirate. I never knew my father, but I was raised by my mother and her husband, Lord Lucian Graymark. When my mother disappeared, however, Lord Graymark threw me out. I took a new last name, that of my mother's mother, and took a position in the house of Lightwood.

"Clary!"

"Sorry Isabelle," I say, hurrying over to her. As I help her into the dress, I can't help but notice that there is another dress laying out. "My lady, who is the green dress for?" She laughs.

"You of course." My face flushes. Why would I need a ball gown?

"My lady?"

"I told you to drop that. And it is for you. I have received permission to bring you to the ball with me."

"But, I am merely a servant."

"Oh hush. If you think I am attending another boring cotillion without the company of my most trusted friend, then you are very wrong indeed Miss Fray. Now, hurry up and dress so I can do your hair." I slowly strip out of my maid's dress and into the green silk. I haven't worn anything this lovely since before mother disappeared. I feel a wave of nostalgia overwhelm me, along with longing and sorrow for my Mother. Isabelle looks at me and her eyes soften. "The Lady Jocelyn will not be gone forever. She will show up again, Clary. Just have faith in Lady Fairchild." I shake myself out of my daze and sit Isabelle down on her vanity chair. "You're right, my Lady." I slowly and methodically split her hair into sections. Isabelle has beautiful long black locks, so unlike my untamable red curls. She is beautiful and tall, towering over most people. I am small enough to be missed in a crowd, were it not for the fiery curls. She is the picture of a lady, and I am a nothing more than a girl.

"Clarissa, you look stunning. Who did your hair?" Isabelle teases, sliding the last pin into place. It was completely improper for the Lady of the house to do the hair of a servant, but Isabelle had never been one for following the rules. I try to brush off any nervous jitters. "My Lady, this is highly inappropriate-"

"Hush. I am not enduring one more boring function without the company of my closest friend. Hang social normalities. Come on now, we don't want to be late." She flounced out of her bedroom, the red silk swishing elegantly about her waist. I attempt to be as graceful as her, but only succeed in tripping halfway out of her bedroom. The long dress is far more extravagant than anything else I had worn, But I managed to stay on my feet. I am half noble, after all. When we reach the bottom of the staircase, Isabelle's brother Alec is waiting. I assume he has already been informed of my attendance, as he shows no worry about the servant showing up in silk. "Come on, we are already late. Isabelle, do you really think it's appropriate to wear something like that outside of the house? You look like a tavern maid." She flushes red. "Oh hush up." He smirks at her before entering the carriage. Isabelle mutters something foul under her breath and gets in after him, and I follow Isabelle. Here goes nothing.

When we arrive, I am suddenly gripped with the feeling that something horrible is about to happen. I shake it off and follow my Lady to the doorway. Panic sets in. "Isabelle," I whisper, "I shouldn't be here. Your family will be ruined if someone figures out who I really am."

"Our reputation is the least of your concerns Miss Fray." She emphasizes those last two words, and I realize I may be safe. Unless I have a stalker, no one should know I changed my last name to Fray. Clary Fairchild is the illegitimate daughter. Clary Fray is… Someone more important. Isabelle grips my hand and hisses, "Relax, it's a party." Then we enter the ballroom.
"The Lord Alexander Lightwood," The announcer calls to the room. Polite applause breaks out. "The Lady Isabelle Lightwood." More applause, mixed with a couple of gasps and mutters at the scandalousness of her dress. "And Miss Clarissa Fray." Polite applause, nothing more.

"See, that was fine. I got loads more recognition than you," Isabelle says.

"That's because I look like a proper young lady, not a two-bit whore," I hiss back. She simply smiles. "Relax, Clary. Nobody here recognizes you. You're going to be fine. Ooh, let's go dance!" My bubbly friend drags me out onto the ballroom floor, and I wonder what spirit possessed me enough to make me agree to this. Hang social normalities. Indeed.

Several dances and four cups of (probably spiked) punch later, I am tired, my corset is digging into my shoulder blades, my feet are killing me, and Isabelle Lightwood is nowhere to be seen. I cast my eyes over the room, looking for the crimson dress, or long black hair. Sure enough, I spot her talking to some handsome young man in green clothing. I make my way over there. "Cla- Miss Fray, I'd like you to meet Meliorn Woodlander," She squeals. The man in question has long hair, very pale, and distant green eyes. "Pleasure to meet you, Clarissa, was it?" He says, brushing his lips over my knuckles. I shiver, but not with pleasure, with revulsion. Something in his eyes makes me want to stay far, far away from him. "Charmed. Miss Lightwood, a word?" I steal my Lady back over to the other side of the room. "So how is the party for you?" She asks, her high voice only slightly slurred. "Well, thank you, and yourself?" It is refreshing to have a conversation with her as equals. "Well, thank you. So have you met anyone?"

"Nobody worth mentioning." I fold my hands together. I notice a flash of something silver in the window. Something almost like…

"Clary, what is is?" I bend over, suddenly sick to my stomach. Isabelle puts a hand on my back, concerned. Then the doors blow open, a low voice announces, "Nobody panic, this is a robbery," and all hell breaks loose.