A/N - This is my first time entering a contest for The Towers of Alicante monthly prompts. Here it goes!
Disclaimer - I do not own the Mortal Instruments or any of the characters in the below story. But hey, a girl can hope, can't she?
"There is no failure except in no longer trying." -Elbert Hubbard
Amatis Greymark was not an open, emotional person to begin with. So when she fell in head-over-heels love with Stephen Herondale, there was no one more surprised than her. What she found even more shocking was that he felt the same, if not more so.
She had scoffed when the other girls talked about those being in love feeling like they were floating on air. But as Stephen grabbed her hand on the way to class in front of all their classmates, she wasn't laughing, at least, not for that reason.
When he proposed, Amatis thought that she could never be happier. He, in his usual way, had managed to pick the perfect day: it was the first sunny day in a month of prolonged rain and floods. As the sun shined through his golden curls as he knelt in front of her, she knew she only had one answer. (He never managed to entirely get the grass stains out of his shirt from the said answer, but Amatis had the feeling that he really didn't mind that much.)
Amatis and her brother were two very different people. They weren't very close before their parents died and their parents deaths in a hunt gone bad didn't change that. They each had their own shoulders to cry on. Amatis moved in with Stephen with a pitiful-looking trunk of all her worldly belongings while Lucian got the house and everything else - the typical "heir-and-the-spare" scenario.
She suggested they move up the wedding. Stephen didn't object.
Even though it was a small ceremony, Amatis felt like a queen when Stephen's eyes, open like one of her treasured books, shone with love. She was almost able to convince herself that she didn't see Valentine Morgenstern in the audience and she almost managed to will away the pit of dread in her stomach when she saw him speaking enthusiastically with Luican and her new husband.
She hadn't invited him.
When they got back from their honeymoon, she'd managed to stuff the pit of dread into the farthest corner of her subconsciousness. But, she never got the feeling that something evil was occurring to go away completely. Then she got the fateful visit from her brother and the pit of dread was fully realized.
He had been bitten by a werewolf.
He was going to be one of the monsters that killed their parents. So, she went with her gut reaction. She shut him out, screamed hateful things at him and slammed the door in his face.
The look of betrayal on his face haunted her dreams for the rest of her life.
When Stephen said he was going to join Valentine's group, she thought he was joking. She clung onto that desperately until he rode off to his first meeting without her. She waited up for him each time. Each time, he came home later and later. But she loved him, so she kept her mouth shut and pretended she didn't see the lipstick stains on his shirt. She never wore lipstick.
Then one night, he didn't come home.
When he said he was leaving her for little Celine, she could barely muster up the energy to put up a fight. She watched numbly as he packed up his things from their house. As she heard the door slam, she could feel the tears bubbling up and cried herself to sleep.
But, as it so often does, life goes on. She moved into a smaller house and tried to erase all signs of Stephen's existence. She wasn't sure whether to feel hurt or relieved when a wedding invitation didn't come in her mailbox.
When Stephen died and Celine killed herself, she'd run out of tears to cry. She did go to Stephen's funeral but left early when the looks of pity became overwhelming.
She surprised herself by going to Celine's pitiful excuse for a service. She watched as the girl's ashes drifted to the heavens and managed to dredge up a little pity for Celine and the child that should've been her own. What a lonely life Celine must have had - Amatis was the only one who went to the funeral.
As it did before, life went on. Amatis became more a hermit than she was as a child, staying away from the Clave meetings and gatherings as much as she could. Sure, it was lonely but it was a life.
When Lucian came to her for help, she thought she was going to drop dead from shock. After they'd made sure the girl, Jocelyn's daughter, was in a stable condition and Lucian had taken up a post by Clarissa's bedside, she tried to analyze her brother's face. He'd grown so much; where had the little boy she'd known gone? She wanted to ask if the girl was his, but something told her not to; she'd sacrificed her right to know anything about his life long ago. But by the Angel, she looked like her mother.
And had about as much respect for authority as her mother did before her. In true Amatis fashion, she came down on the girl when she snuck out. She tried not to see parallels between the girl's reaction and Lucian's. She failed in that attempt. But Amatis Herondale was a stubborn woman and, despite her pity for the child, she did not apologize.
She went down to the meeting with Lucian trying not to see the piles of the dead all around them. She was awfully good at deluding herself. She didn't really want to go out and see her beloved city in shambles but, after all she'd done, the least Lucian deserved was her loyalty. But, when Lucian up and abruptly left the meeting, she tried not to rip her hair out with frustration. It seemed like she believed in his hair-brained - admittedly, that's what it was - plan more than he did.
When Clarissa stood up in front of the Clave claiming she could create runes, Amatis, not for the first time that evening, wanted to bang her head against the nearest wall. Suddenly, it wasn't Clarissa standing there on the dais but it was Stephen. Stephen! Then, all too soon, it was Clarissa standing there again, looking concerned. Amatis gaped at her. Maybe they had a chance of winning after all.
The battle was something Amatis would try to forget for the rest of her life. Miraculously, she and her partner – a werewolf, of all things – had made it against all the odds. She spotted her brother and Jocelyn on the other side of the battlefield but didn't go over. There would be time for that later. Now, it was time to count their losses and lick their wounds. Amatis picked herself off the ground, brushed the dirt off her armor and looked to the sky - the sun was rising.
She had survived.
