A/N: I'm back! Hey guys! I am so excited to start posting this. I have been working on writing this for about a year, and I finally feel like it is ready to be posted.
Here is Reckless Flames 2.0!
Clary stood silently, as her brother paced the throne room. He hadn't acknowledged her presence. Truthfully, he didn't have to because she knew what was coming. He had found a suitor for her and she was dreading the moment she got shipped away to marry who knows what. Ever since her brother inherited the throne from their father, he has been trying to get rid of her. He has met with princes, warlords, and tribal leaders, attempting to find her a mate that would suit him the best.
She hated the idea of leaving because she thought it was better to live with the devil she knew rather than one she didn't. She could handle Jonathan for the most part. There were select instances where he would snap, but even in a tirade she could still control him. He knew it too, which is why he wanted to rid himself of her. Jonathan was a fiend, but he had a sweet, soft spot for his baby sister when she pushed the right buttons.
She was sick of waiting for him to speak. "Have you decided?" She asked, her temper escaping her. She knew that in the presence of her brother it was better to hold her tongue than face his corresponding bad temper. She was overly frustrated that he expected her to sit here and wait for him to speak, regardless she quietly awaited his crushing response.
"Yes, I have." He paused in front of her, eying her suspiciously.
Clary wondered who it was. She hadn't been allowed to meet any of the potential suitors because he thought that she would interfere with his business, but she was able see them from the floor on the balcony. She would sneak out and sit on the ground, peering between the bars. Everyone he met with looked like some form of a weasel. The princes were girlish, the warlords were disgusting, and the tribal leaders were crude. She wasn't looking forward to marrying any of them. They all had things to give her brother for her hand. Normally, it goes the other way around. A woman is supposed to pay a dowry to the man that she marries, but she was special. She was royalty.
"Who?" She snapped, rolling her eyes at him. She wanted to lock herself in her room and wallow the rest of the night.
"I'm going to ignore the attitude." He hissed, narrowing his eyes at her.
"Oh, please do." Her words dripped with distain, as she glanced around the room, seeing her brother's guards around her. "You wanted to get rid of me as soon as our parent's bodies were in the ground! I oppose you and that scares you. You treat your people as if they are toys for some game, and I have always been a voice for them. You want me gone so that their voices can be silenced!" She raised her voice, standing her ground. She was not going leave the comfort of her home without a fight. Even though she knew how her speech would end, she decided to say it anyways. Her head was thrown to the side, while her cheek was radiating with pain, as she slowly stood back to her full height.
She acted unaffected even though her cheek was probably going to bruise. It wasn't the first time she has been smacked, and it probably won't be the last. Her father used to hit her for her outbursts. He always claimed that they were unladylike and no man would marry her if she continued to act that way. In reality he didn't like the fact that she disagreed with him.
"Your tongue runs away with you. Your future husband might not act kindly to such behavior." He gripped her chin tightly. She dropped her jaw open in a feeble attempt to relieve the pressure of his fingers. She could feel her pulse quicken the longer he held her, which made her anxious about what he might do next. There is no one to hold him back anymore.
"He can whip me bloody. I will speak when I please." She spit out as his grip tightened. She whimpered, closing her eyes. A grin sneered across his face. She knew what Jonathan's affections were for her. She has walked by his room when he has been accompanied with women and she hears him call out her own name. She knew if she was not careful he would take her, ruining her for the rest of the world.
"I can't wait to see when he breaks you. Being violated might do that to you." He whispered in my ear. "Being touched in places where you didn't want, being forced to pleasure a man when you don't want to. Sex can break a woman." His voice was terrifying. It chilled her to her very core, and she began truly fearing marriage. He let her go, walking up to the throne, as he plopped into his new favorite seat. "There we go. Not so strong now are we?" He smirked at her, racking his eyes over her. "You will marry Jonathan Herondale." He stated, sitting high and mighty.
"Of course you feel the need to marry me to a man with the same name as you." She huffed quietly, shaking her head.
"I wanted you to marry his father. His second wife passed away a year or so ago, I assumed that he would want another, but he came to find a wife for his son. I told him I would be happy to oblige." Her brother smiled sinisterly at her, leaning back in his seat.
She hated feeling like a piece of meat, which is how her brother had been treating her for years. It made her angry, and frustrated, and mad, but she couldn't do anything about it. She was his property, his problem, and he wanted to be rid of her so that no one would oppose him. She has always offered a counter point to her brother's ideas or plans, which just brought on his rage because she was a woman. He knew that she would give good counsel, even if he didn't like to hear it from a girl
"You leave tomorrow." He informed her, which surprised her.
"Tomorrow?" She raised her eyebrows, taking a step forward. "Isn't that a bit soon?"
"Are you questioning my authority?" He raised an eyebrow at her.
"Yes, because this is ludicrous. I have to pack all my things and-"
"You won't be taking most of your things." He informed her, skipping to his feet. "You won't need them. See, Jonathan Herondale is the lord of the Brocelind Forest."
"What?" She widened her eyes, feeling fear in her chest. "You are sending me to those savages? They have always hated the crown, and they treat their women like dogs." She exclaimed, not wanting to go there.
"They do, don't they?" He smiled at her in a way that made her even more uncomfortable.
"Jonathan, please, don't send me there." She pleaded, taking a step towards him. "I will do anything." She held onto his arms, forcing back the ragged breath she felt in her lungs.
"Begging now?" He raised an eyebrow at her, smirking heavily at her.
"Yes, I am begging." She stated, falling to her knees in front of him. "I know I trouble you, I know you don't like my outburst, but please Jonathan, spare me from going there." She bowed her head, beseeching her brother for what little pity he may have.
"Get up." He snapped, "I need you to go there for multiple reasons, one of them being that I heard rumors of a rebellion there." He held her cheeks in his hands. "I need you to find evidence so that I can kill all of them. If they turn out to be traitors, you can come home, I won't make you get remarried, and you can live freely throughout our castle. You are the only one I trust." He released her. "Go to bed. They'll be here tomorrow morning." He glided out of the room. She collapsed to the ground in complete anguish.
He was forcing her to live in a tribe of savages, and the only way at freedom was to spy on them. The people in the Brocelind live in a nightmare. Her father told her horror stories about them. She recalled before her father took the crown they were free to wreak havoc all over the land. They pillaged towns, raped thousands of women, and kill everyone in sight. She could only image what they would do to her.
OoOoO
Clary was awoken early in the morning by her handmaiden who was drawing a bath for her. She slipped into the tub, wondering if this would be her last bath. She sunk into the water, letting the feeling surround her. She didn't know when she would be able to have a bath again and feel truly clean again. She could feel her heart pounding heavily in her chest, as she slipped her head under the water. She could just stay here, let herself drown. She opened her eyes, hazily watching the surface of the water. She burst out of the water, gasping for breath. She shook her head at herself, running her fingers through her hair. She couldn't do that to herself. Her life had been hell but it was her life. She was a survivor, an adapter.
Her handmaiden, Dot, came up behind her, carefully running a comb through her hair. She rested her head back, closing her eyes. Deep breaths, she told herself. The door opened, and Clary lifted her eyes to see Jonathan standing in the door frame. She took a shaky breath, feeling exposed. He has never done something like this before.
"Go." He ordered her handmaiden, leaving her alone with them.
"What are you doing here? This is incredibly improper." She stammered, sitting up to hug her knees to her chest.
"You know I care not for formality." He sighed, rolling his eyes. He sat on the edge of the tub, moving his fingers in the water. Clary pursed her lips to keep herself from agitating him. "I brought you a dress to wear when they get here." He cocked his head to the side, letting his eyes scan her face. He reached out, tracing along her cheek bone. She flinched away from him, but he grabbed her face again, closely examining her face. "I was hoping I didn't leave a mark last night." He muttered, releasing her. "Keep those covered up." He gestured to her face. Clary lightly touched her face, realizing that he had bruised her when he hit her yesterday.
"I will." She murmured, dropping her hand into the water.
"You are so beautiful." He breathed quietly. "Even without the makeup and fancy hair." He shook his head in disbelief, as he ran his finger down her unhurt cheek. He shook his head at himself, as he got to his feet. "Good luck today." He turned around just as he was about to walk out the door. He shut the door behind him, and she ran her hand down her face. She felt panic leave her veins, as she inhaled a full breath, as she hadn't realized that she had been holding it.
OoOoO
Clary stared down at the dress that Jonathan had laid out for her. It exposed a lot more skin then she was used to, which made her stomach burn. The entire back of it was open, which wasn't something she normally wore. Dot came in and helped her into it. Clary moved in front of the mirror, as Dot braided her hair back away from her face.
Clary stared at the bruise on her cheek in the mirror, gently tracing over it. She wondered how many more bruises she would get in her life. Would it be worse with her new husband? She shook those thoughts from her mind because she didn't even know him. She has never seen him, never looked into his eyes. When she looked into Jonathan's and her father's eyes she could see that they were dead. Their bodies were vessels for dark things, but her husband's eyes might not be dead. He might be kind. She might actually like him.
"Let me cover that up." Dot scurried around the room, bring a compact with her. Dot kneeled in front of her, carefully spreading the makeup over her skin. It was like it never happened, but unfortunately it did happen.
"Wait." Clary grabbed her hand, reaching for a rag. She viciously rubbed the gunk off of her face, as she inhaled a deep breath. "He wants to give me away; they are going to see the kinds of things that he has done to me." She said with determination. She was sick of always listening to her brother, so she was going to do what she wanted to do. She wasn't his problem after today, so what could he do about it?
"Are you sure?" Dot questioned softly, setting the makeup aside.
"Yes, I am sure." She held her head high, as she looked at herself in the mirror.
OoOoO
Clary walked down the stairs and out into the pavilion, where her brother was, letting her good cheek face him. She inhaled a deep breath, as she set her shoulders back. She was strong. She appeared quiet and submissive to most, but she never let manipulation defeat her. She stood her ground with her head held high.
"You look glorious." He gaped, letting his eyes linger over his sister. She cringed internally, grasping her hands in front of her. She wondered how much longer until they get here because she didn't know how long she could hide that she hadn't covered the bruises.
"Thank you." She whispered, keeping her eyes forward.
"Are you going to skulk all day?" He rolled his eyes at her, crossing his arms. "You have a chance to come back. I don't see why you are being so fussy about it." He scoffed.
"I have a chance. You heard a rumor of rebellion that does mean that there is one. They have been perfectly content with their land even if they hate us." She muttered, looking down to the gates, which were open.
"I have it on good authority that they aren't happy. They were until two visits ago. One of their spawns was stealing, and when I punished the criminal, there was almost a riot." He explained, keeping his eyes on her. "Look at me when I am talking to you." He snarled, yanking her to face him.
"What?!" She snapped, struggling out of his grasp.
"You didn't do what I said. I said to cover that thing up." He sneered, raising his hand up. At that moment trumpets roared and the horde of savages entered the castle. She took a step back from him, trying to regain her composure from the anger that had seeped through. "I told you-"
"Well, I didn't listen." She responded bitterly, as horses came to a halt in front of her.
A group of three riders came to a stop in front of them, while their men circled around them. The one in front looked like the sun, which was a stark contrast to the two people who flanked him. She knew that the man in front was obviously the leader, but was he the father or the son? She had no clue. The man seemed vaguely familiar his older age was apparent from the gray hairs that peaked through his golden mane. She felt slightly disgusted at the way they were dressed. The men didn't quite wear tunics but some of them had on leather vest, which were simple and intricate at the same time.
One of the people who flanked the golden man was a woman. Clary was surprised that she had such a significant presence because men control this world. She was beautiful too. Her black hair flowed over her shoulders, and her body made the rags that she wore look stunning. Clary knew she would never resemble that.
The three slid off their horses, pausing in front of them. Clary could feel herself shrinking inwards, as she felt herself faded away from who she once was. She was going to be one of these people, and she hated that she was going to be associated with them at all.
The woman eyed her carefully, as the men began retreating inside. She saw her cheek. The woman reached over, taking her hand gently in her own before she went inside. Clary was startled by the action, but she squeezed her hand back.
"I'm Isabelle." She smiled brightly at her, letting her concern look slip away from her face. "I've been very excited to meet you." She exclaimed enthusiastically.
"You have been?" she questioned quietly, feeling shocked to her core.
"Of course I have," She giggled, shaking her head with a freeing grin across her face. "It seems like all the women in my family have died, and now I'm stuck with a bunch of men all the time. It is about time one of them got married." She laughed loudly before biting her lip. "I sounded quite silly there, didn't I?" She snickered.
"Yes, you did." Clary felt herself smile for real. It had been a long time since she genuinely smiled.
"The other guy is my brother Alec. He is a complete prude, but I love him anyway." She flipped her hair to the side, as they walked a step behind the men. The dark-haired man glanced back at his sister, giving her a teasing glare.
"What about…" She trailed off, looking at the bunch of men assembled in front of them.
"That's Stephen, our leader, lord, whatever you high society people would call him." She whispered so he couldn't hear.
They stopped in the dining hall, and all sat together. Clary was next to her brother at the head of the table, and kept her head down, even though Isabelle was determined to get to know her. Isabelle seemed pleasant, but she was just a woman.
"So," Stephen gulped down his food, looking straight at Clary. "We need to leave straight after dinner. I can't be away from my people for too long." He explained.
"Why did you come then? You could have sent anyone." She asked curiously, setting her wine glass down.
"Because I wanted to see you. I know we agreed to the marriage, but I never actually saw you. I had to make sure you lived up to your reputation, and I think you do." He grabbed a chicken leg, taking a big bite out of it. Clary bit back the horror at the way they ate, and kept herself calm.
"Reputation?" she questioned, glancing to her brother, who shrugged at her.
"Your beauty and heart are talked about all over the nation. They say you are just like your mother." Stephen explained, as Clary gripped her napkin.
She missed her mother every day, and she hated her father for what he did to her. He nearly drove her mad with his games and his experiments. She started to appear happy again, towards the end, which was a relief to Clary. Soon after that joy came, they learned she had been having an affair with his best friend. He executed her mother right in front of her, and she never forgave him.
"Yes, I have heard that." She stared at her plate, allowing the pleasantries she was used for years slip out of her lips. The way she was conditioned to speak with people kicked in, and she allowed herself to slip into her dream world, a world where she was free from this life. Her body knew when to nod, when to speak, what to say; it was a reflex to her.
OoOoO
Clary stood in her room for what could be the last time with Isabelle. The woman was lying on her bed, as she dressed into her riding clothes. She learned short after dinner that she would be riding a horse all the way to the forest, and she was not looking forward to it. She hadn't ridden in years. The horses were always massive while she was very small in comparison.
"This bed is amazing." Isabelle gaped, as she pushed herself into a sitting position.
"Eh," Clary shrugged her shoulder. She had slept on better. Her mother's bed was filled with the finest feathers, and covered in the most expensive silks. Jonathan took her bed before her body was in the ground.
"Eh? I sleep on a pile of furs." She rolled onto her side, facing her.
"Really?" Clary furrowed her brow with disappointment, as she heaved a sigh. She groaned, running her hand down her face. She had to sleep on a pile of furs too.
"Whatever you're imagining, it isn't that bad." Isabelle assured her, sitting up.
"Right." She muttered bitterly, buttoning her shirt better.
"I like my home much better than this place." She snapped, crossing her arms. "It is bright, warm, and open. We might not live in fancy castles, but we experience the sun and nature almost all the time. We aren't locked away. We train, we craft, and we have parties all the time." Isabelle explained, smiling to herself.
"I like it here. I am comfortable and content here." Clary said quietly, turning to pack her things in her trunk.
"Are you happy here?" She asked, sending a wave of hurt into Clary's heart. Clary didn't respond, as she loaded up her things. "So no?" She challenged.
"What makes you think I'll be happy there?" She whipped around to face her.
"Because you'll have more freedom to do what you want when you want to do it. You won't have your brother breathing down your neck." She pointed out, making Clary flinch.
"Stop talking." She ordered with frustration. "You don't know me, or what my family had put me through, so just stop talking. I'm not happy. I haven't been happy since my father murdered my mother. I haven't been happy since I learned my brother was attracted to me. I haven't been happy since I was a child, and that happiness was a gift because it was caused by pure ignorance." She snapped, crossing her arms.
"I don't know you, but I know my home. Stephen was happily married until his wife passed away. My brother is with the man he loves, and my cousin would never harm a woman. If he did, I would string him up by his jewels." Isabelle spoke confidently, standing her ground. "You are a princess, but I am not your subject. I am your equal."
"You are in my kingdom, so I think that makes you my subject." She huffed, not believing the audacity of Isabelle's statement.
"I like you." Isabelle smiled deviously, taking a step closer to her. "You are about to enter my world, and you know nothing about my society. You need me to help you along, or you will be eaten by wolves. I am your equal, understood?" She smirked heavily, knowing that she had won.
"Only because I need you." She countered softly, turning back to the mirror to check her braid.
"I wonder how I would look like in one of these dresses." She hummed, running her fingers along Clary's gowns.
"Probably gorgeous." Clary scoffed with a faint smile. "You have all the right curves." She grinned, locking her single chest closed. She tucked away a few gowns and some sentimental items. She wished she could bring more of her gowns, but she would make it work. That's what elegant women did. They made things work.
A/N: I hop you guys enjoyed it!
What did you guys like? Dislike? I really want to know all of your thoughts because this story is my baby!
Please review!