After I read City of Heavenly Fire, I cried so hard when Jonathan died. I swear, it was like the saddest thing ever.
And then this idea popped into my head.
What if Valentine hadn't killed Jace? If Jace had been alive and never gone to Lake Lyn after passing out from his fight with Sebastian? What else could Clary have wished for?
Happy reading!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Mortal Instruments.
Prologue
"The Battle on Brocelind Plain is ending. Morgenstern's hold over his demons vanished with his death. Already many are fleeing; the rest will soon be destroyed. There are Nephilim riding to the shores of this lake at this very moment. If you have a request, Shadowhunter, speak it now." The Angel paused. "And remember that I am not a genie. Choose your desire wisely."
Clary hesitated, only for a moment but the moment stretched out as long as any moment ever had. She could ask for anything, she thought dizzily, anything-an end to pain or world hunger or disease, or for peace on earth. But then again, perhaps these things weren't in the power of angels to grant, or they would already have been granted. And perhaps people were supposed to find these things for themselves.
- Pages 452-453, City of Glass
Suddenly, something else came to mind. A picture of her mother, sitting on her bed, crying over a lock of blonde hair. Her brother's hair. Crying over the son she should have had.
And then Clary knew what she wanted.
But before that, there was one last thing she needed to know.
"Jace," she said, a little breathlessly. "Jonathan Herondale. Is he alright?"
Raziel sounded impatient now. Jonathan Herondale is unconscious, but he has been found and his wounds are being treated as we speak. He will be fine.
This was it, then. There was nothing else she wanted, nothing else she wished for so desperately.
Clary raised her eyes to meet the Angel's. "My brother, Jonathan Morgenstern. Can you get rid of the demon blood in him? Make him a good person again?"
The Angel said nothing for a minute but looked down at Clary, his face impassive. There was something about Raziel's face that belied both beauty and danger. Clary experienced a moment of panic – what if Raziel struck her down as he had struck down Valentine, what if she had asked for something he did not want to grant?
Close your eyes, Clarissa Morgenstern.
Obediently, Clary closed her eyes; you didn't say no to an angel, no matter how apprehensive you might be. She remembered Jonathan, Jonathan as she had first seen him with black hair and a charming smile on his face, not knowing that beneath it lay something soulless and amoral. And then the image changed, to a boy with white-blonde hair and eyes like sparkling emeralds, a boy who could love and laugh and be human. My brother.
"Clary?"
She jolted upright, frantically moving away, the voice invoking memories of the boy she had known only as Sebastian. The first thing she registered was that Raziel was gone, the night sky seeming darker than usual with the blinding white light of the halo that had surrounded him.
The second was that there was a boy kneeling next to her, his white-blonde hair falling into his eyes, his expression concerned. He held out a hand as if to help her up, then thought better of it and sat back on his heels, staring at her as if he couldn't quite believe that she was there.
His eyes were green, she noticed, green just like hers were, just like Jocelyn.
"Jonathan?" she whispered, hardly able to believe that Raziel had actually done it, had managed to burn away Lilith's blood, and turn Jonathan into the person he should have been.
"Clary," he said, just as quietly. They stared at each other in silence, trying to take in every detail. He was still in Shadowhunter gear, she noticed, runes inked on his arms and twining around his neck. It was only his eyes that gave away the fact that he wasn't Sebastian anymore.
"You really are my brother?" she asked hesitatingly. Was it another trick? Her subconscious whispered, not able to get her hopes up only to have them dashed again. "Not Sebastian?"
He shook his head, a look of wonder on his face. "No, I-I'm not. I know it'll take time for you to trust me, but I'm willing to wait. I know what I did was unforgivable, and I'm so, so sorry Clary, I really am – "
Clary looked at him, his face nervous but hopeful, and she knew. She felt again the feeling of familiarity she had experienced at the Penhallows' house, only stronger, as if something inside her knew that she was really meeting her brother at last.
"It's alright," she said, smiling so wide she felt her face would split. "I know, Jonathan. I can feel it. You're not Sebastian anymore."
And then he was smiling too, and Clary was half-laughing, half-sobbing as a crushing sense of relief overtook her.
It was finally over.
