So here's yet another one-shot from me.
just because I'm writing a lot of these does not mean I am abandoning my multi chapter fics!
Please review though!
He lied. Jace Herondale had lied to her, the love of his life, and now he watched from the sandy bank of lake Lyn as they lowered her small, limp body into the tattered looking old boat, ready to push her out to into the deep water.
He knew that he looked a state, his hair unwashed and astray, his golden eyes puffy and heavily lidded due to both crying, and lack of sleep. It took all he had in him that morning to rifle through his wardrobe and find his white mourning robes, the ones he hadn't touched or see since Max.
Scanning the area he saw others here to mourn her, others who looked upon her small body with some sense of regret. Some of them wept, others just shook their heads, complaining about a waste of such young life. There seemed to be only one other person who was as lost as he was. Standing a safe distance from the waters edge, and as far away as possible from the dingy little boat, stood Jocelyn.
Her hair was a matted mess falling around her shoulders, her pale face blotchy and tearstained, her eyes far gone, looking into nothing. She still wore white the same as every one else, but Jocelyn's clothing bore no runes of mourning, no unspoken words of grief. It was only now, like this that Jace saw how different the two red heads were.
Clary was always full of life, even now, she looked only to be sleeping, her emerald eyes ready to flicker and open at any second to gaze at him lovingly that way they always did. But Jocelyn, the one who was still living and breathing had never looked so drained, so close to death, like a fresh corpse, reanimated for only a short period of time, living only a half-life. The dawn's sun was bearing down on her now, making her pale face looked almost translucent, and her red hair vibrant in contrast. It's not even grey when she buries her baby. Jace thought bitterly.
Jace tore his eyes away from the mother, gazing once again at his one reason for existence as they finally set her down in the boat, letting her be surrounded by roses of all different colours and meanings; Red, for love, beauty and courage. White, for purity, innocence and youth. Pink, for admiration and grace. Yellow for friendship, and finally, black, for farewell and for death.
Watching her now, dressed in the purest white satin, surrounded by all the colours of the roses, Jace remembered their last conversation.
It was late, long past midnight, straight after a meeting with the Clave. They had decided to allow Clary to initiate as a new shadowhunter, to prove herself the way all those who ascended had to. Although Clary had never actually ascended, the Clave seemed it fit to test her, to show everyone that if she were to succeed, they owned her. They were forcing her out on an undoubtedly dangerous mission, one where no one knew it she would return.
She was alone in the greenhouse, wearing nothing but her green pyjama shorts and a white top, her vibrant red curls pulled into a fast, messy bun. She sat there toying with the roses, admiring them all for their beauty and their vibrancy, longing for a simple life.
"Penny for your thoughts?" said a voice, one Clary remembered wholly. A small, wry smile crept onto her face, without her even noticing. He sat next to her, close enough for her to feel his warmth through his shirt, but she refused to lie against him, not tonight.
"Oh no" she said, trying to keep her voice light, and failing. "I'll sell them for a dollar" she looked at him then, and every thought faded away. Those beautiful golden orbs, filled with so much faith, so much love that it made her feel almost guilty about how afraid she was. "After all" she said, turning away, snapping herself back like elastic. It was hard for her not to notice the sudden cold she felt as reality crept back in. "They're worth so much more after I'm a goner"
"Clary" He said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him, letting her become enveloped in his arms, revelling in the warmth and safety she felt there. "You're going to be fine" he reassured.
"You don't know that" she mumbled into his chest, trying to stop the flow of tears. "And if I die young-" she began.
"Clary" he interrupted her briskly.
"If I die young" she said, enunciating the first word "Then bury me in satin, lay me down in a bed of roses" she said as she toyed with the white rose bud in her grasp, ignoring as the thorns pricked her skin, blood pooling at the wound.
He watched now, looking at everyone's mournful faces, the regret they held, especially members of the clave, including the council her self.
"Funny when you're dead how people start listening" Jace whispered to himself bitterly, realising that one of the people he was saying it to, was himself.
How could no one of listened to her, how could they all of just stood aside, let her walk to her death. She told them, she warned them that she wasn't ready, that she needed more time, but no one listened, not even himself and now she was gone.
He watched silently, his fist's clenched as Luke, Robert and Alec all helped to push to boat towards the slowly lapping water. It should be him pushing her in, he knew that, she would have wanted him to be the one to lay her to rest, but he didn't have the courage. Who would have thought, the boy who'd faced more demons than anyone else, the boy who would dive headlong into danger, with no regard for his own life, wasn't brave enough to lay his own love to rest.
"Any thing else on your list?" Jace asked jokily, holding the small red head to his chest, toying with the rose she held in her grasp. He felt her laugh against him, the shudder of her chuckle reverberating through his every bone and nerve ending, making him shiver.
"Yeah" she replied lightly "Sink me in the river at dawn, and then send me away with the words of a love song" he could feel her smile into his chest, such a small motion that spoke volumes.
"Clary" he said lightly, watching as the red head slowly look at him, her big green eyes filled with a security he'd never seen before. "I'll love you forever" he said lightly, watching a small smile break across her face.
"I'll love you even after that"
He watched idly as the boat caught the current, jostling slightly with the sudden buoyancy. She looked so peaceful, with her red hair fanning out around her head, shimmering in the sunlight of the late dawn. Her skin was so pale, her beautiful green eyes shut. All her wounds had been bound, making her look healthy, unharmed as they lay her to rest.
Across her stomach lay her hands, and clutched within them, a bunch of flowers. They didn't look like much now, in fact they hardly looked alive, but Jace knew that at midnight, when her body rested in the centre of the lake, they would bloom, all of them, into the most beautiful flowers the world had ever seen. But it still wasn't good enough for Clary.
From the corner of his eyes, Jace saw movement, nothing giant, just a flicker of white amongst the tree's of the forest. Naturally, instinct took over. With one look at her body, rocking slightly on the little wooded boat, the roses surrounding her, Jace took off towards the forest.
Twigs snapped under his feet, the scent of tree's and wild flowers filling his nose. The canopy of tree's above him had blocked out most of the dim, dawn sunlight, only swatches of it burst through, bleeding into the murky forest floor.
It didn't take him long to find the source of the movement, mainly because it was waiting for him in the first clearing. Jonathan. He stood there, hand sin his pockets, directly inside a patch of sunlight, his white hair illuminating the darkness, his black eyes as pitiless and merciless as they always were. He was, to Jace's surprise, wearing white.
"What are you doing here?" Jace spat, watching the sly smile creep onto Jonathon's face.
"Can't I mourn the death of my sister, my queen?" he replied, his icy cold voice holding no remorse, no grief, in fact, had it not been for the drained look to his face, Jace could have sworn that Jonathon looked almost bored.
"You have no right to call her you sister!" he half shouted, his voice cracking. "You as good as killed her!"
"The sharp knife" he said plainly "Of a short life" shrugging almost carelessly, a life's-a-bitch expression plastered on his face. "You said you'd love her forever. Who would have thought forever could be severed by the sharp knife…" he began, pacing slightly, stalking towards Jace like a cat would a mouse. "…of a short life" he was smiling now, the sort of smile worn by a hateful teacher after catching their least favourite student breaking the rules.
"Shut up!" Jace spat, fist clenched at his sides, refusing to give Jonathon that satisfaction of seeing him fall part. But it was so tempting. Why couldn't he just leave everything behind, let someone else deal with all this hassle, or at least die trying. He would have done.
"Oh, gather up your tears" he said, clearly bored as he waved a dismissive hand towards Jace. "Save them for a time when you're really going to need them" Jace didn't bother to wipe the tears from his face, instead he let them slip down his cheeks, falling down his chin to drip silently onto the forest floor by his feet.
He realised now, that to keep on fighting is what he would have done, and it's also what she would have done. How could he deny himself such a plain and simple task that she could no longer carry it forwards?
"Well" Jonathon said nonchalantly "Life isn't always what you think it ought to be" he continued, shrugging once again, a simple action that was very quickly sending Jace into a murderous rage. He said he wanted to mourn her, his sister, yet he stood there like he didn't have a care in the world, all the while Jace was falling apart, piece by excruciating piece. "Don't be ridiculous" he said, pointing to Jace.
Without realising, Jace had pulled a blade from his belt, holding it towards Jonathon, who had gratefully ceased his insistent pacing to watch him with curious eyes.
"You have so much more to do, errands to set into place, I imagine. Don't throw it all away now, I'm in no mood to kill you today" Jonathon said calmly, like a parent talking to a child, patronising but with a hint of caring hidden amongst the annoyance. What was happening? Jonathon, who had tried to kill all them Clary, Alec and Isabelle included, on more than one occasion, wasn't looking for a battle.
"Why waste the time you've got left?" Could it honestly be that he was grieving too? Impossible, Jonathon was heartless and ruthless; he was undoubtedly looking for a chance to strike Jace when he was weak.
There! Jace saw, if only for a second as Jonathon reached for his belt, grasping at his own weapon. It was a split second decision, but Jace had made it, and he hadn't made it for him alone. He had also made it for Isabelle and Alec, so they wouldn't have to face the trauma themselves, but most importantly, he made the decision for Clary, since she never had the chance to make it herself.
"I've had just enough time" Jace said with a smirk, receiving him a confused eyebrow raise from Jonathon, quickly replaced by sneer.
He could end it all. In that one moment he could stop the war, the same way she would had done. He pictured her now, so bright and alive, shinning like the sun with her luscious red curls and her smiling, freckled face. She was in his minds eye, her body lying on the boat, surrounded by the bed of roses she had been laid down on, ready for the others to sink her in the river.
And with that last burst of motivation, her lunged forward at the same time Jonathon did, both of them colliding with one another, both of them fighting to kill, neither of them realising as the other mourners sang a love song for the lost girl, to send her away while they stood aside, watching as her body began to burn.