The Sisters Sinister.


I apologise for the delay, I am so so sorry for keeping you waiting :(

I can't promise to update more regularly, I'm afraid.

The Man She Hardly Knew.


Clarissa awoke to the sound of rain. It pitter-pattered against the material of the tent. She sighed deeply and allowed the haziness of sleep to wrap her in its warm, welcoming arms. She was just about to let her heavy lids fall shut when she remembered that Herondale was still outside. She shot up; the furs Herondale had given her to keep her warm pooled around the tops of her thighs. The lantern was still lit, though its golden light had diminished since it had first been lit. Clarissa heard a grunt as the rain fell harder, turning from that soothing pitter-patter to an overwhelming gush of water. Clarissa saw a shadow move outside the tent and heard a muttered expletive. "Herondale?" she asked tentatively.

She was met with silence. Suddenly, the opening of the tent flew open and Herondale flung himself into the shelter and warmth of the tent. He crawled inside and sat next to her and stared back at the now firmly closed opening of the tent. The light of the lantern flickered enticingly across his jaw line, illuminating his eyes and hair, creating beautiful shadows beneath his lashes and cheekbones. Clarissa studied his perfect face; she watched the rain water trickle down the curling ends of his hair and onto the skin of his neck and then his sculpted chest and arms. He was shirtless, wearing just a blanket around his narrow hips. His chest rose and fell- shuddering with every breath he took, as if though he was expelling the cold out of him. He finally looked at her, and Clarissa tore her gaze from the delicate but harsh black lines of his tattoo.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" Herondale asked softly, almost as though he was afraid that by raising his voice above a whisper he'd be shaking all traces of sleep from her. His gaze collided with her own, his unyielding and penetrating, hers caught by the strength in his.

"No, the rain woke me." Clarissa replied just as softly. Herondale nodded and was about to say something else when his gazed dropped from her eyes and travelled across her body. His jaw dropped a little, as if in shock and his gaze returned to her face, and then back to her body. Clarissa looked down and realised what had shocked him. Her cheeks burned and she wrapped the fur around herself tightly. Oh gods, how could she have been so careless? Clarissa looked over at the folded pile that was her dress, wishing she'd worn it to sleep instead of stripping down to her indecent undergarments.

Herondale cleared his throat, and Clarissa looked up at him, cheeks still burning. Herondale smirked arrogantly and reached out to touch her cheek, his cold hand calming the heat.

"Blushing again, Clarissa? How long will you keep this up?" Herondale's intense, gold gaze fell to her lips. A warm fluttering began in her stomach. Clarissa pulled away from his touch and looked away, feeling confused and embarrassed, but mostly ashamed at the feelings that this man that she hardly knew was pulling from her.

"We should get to sleep. Goodnight Herondale." Clarissa said quietly, laying down into the furs. She turned away from Herondale and willed herself to sleep. It was some time before Herondale finally lay down and whispered "Goodnight Clarissa."


Clarissa woke the next morn' encased in heat. She turned over so that she lay flat on her back. The comfort of her sleep had not fully left her yet so she didn't notice Herondale's arms around her right away, instead she burrowed further into the source of warmth, not registering the feel of skin against her own. When she finally opened her eyes again, Herondale's intense golden eyes loomed over her. His arms were wrapped around her waist and he'd managed to slip under her animal furs, abandoning his own furs.

"I was beginning to think you'd never wake up." Herondale said; his voice low and husky from sleep.

Clarissa shot up, careful to take the covers along with her, covering her lacy undergarments and almost naked form from him. "How long have you been awake?" Clarissa asked nervously. How long had she lain curled up with him, this man she hardly knew?

"Long enough to know you purr in your sleep, and to know you enjoy being held." Herondale smirked.

Clarissa narrowed her eyes at him, "That was a wicked thing to do, you had your own furs." She said with decided annoyance.

"You call it wicked but I on the other hand think it was a rather valiant and heroic deed, keeping you warm on a cold night." Herondale grinned at her, his eyes dancing with mischief. "If you'd like perhaps I could show you the true depth of my wicked nature."

Clarissa turned away to hide her blush, "No, I would not like, your boastfulness."

"Your loss" Herondale said with a shrug.


The unlikely pair packed up their makeshift tent and furs and continued on their journey. The stop had been entirely too long, and Clarissa could sense Herondale's urgency to get away from where they'd spent the night as fast as possible. The sun was high in the sky as they rode on through the puddles of rainwater that dominated an otherwise flat and easy terrain. Clarissa sat in front of Herondale, his broad muscular chest against her slender back. She had tried in vain to keep her distance; a plan which was thwarted when Herondale made a dissatisfied noise and pulled her flat against him. She said nothing and was glad he couldn't see the colour in her cheeks. Sometime during their journey, as the sun began to dip below the trees and a faint pink rose from the horizon, Herondale picked up the pace- almost as though he were trying to outride some imaginary pursuer. Clarissa noticed he had tensed behind her, his grip on the reigns tightened imperceptibly and the cords in his neck strained against his skin. "We are being chased" Herondale said after a moment of tense silence.

"Chased? How can you possibly tell?" Clarissa strained her ears but could pick up no sound but the whisper of the wind among the trees and the incessant chorus of crickets.

Herondale chuckled low under his breath, a sound that travelled through Clarissa's spine, leaving no vertebrae untouched "Four horsemen to our one? It's good to know they don't underestimate me."

Clarissa wondered not for the first time just who this mysterious man was and what his plans for her were. It crossed her mind that perhaps she was in even greater danger now than she had been when she was to face Master Verlac again, and once imagined this thought could not be unimagined. She thought of how little she really knew of Herondale, of how little she knew of anyone on this earth and she felt lonelier than ever before.

Herondale wrapped an arm around Clarissa's stomach, his thumb rested just below her breast. Without realising, Clarissa had moved further away from Herondale. He pulled her back and his warm breath stirred her hair, "What are you thinking of, Clarissa?" his low voice rumbled and she felt his every intake of breath against her back.

"Nothing of consequence" Clarissa replied, hiding her sudden fear of the man behind her flawlessly. Herondale rested his chin against the point where her shoulder met her neck and nuzzled her hair, which he proceeded to inhale deeply.

Clarissa stiffened, "What are you doing?" she asked; her voice stronger than her knees and her state of mind.

Whatever answer he gave was too low to be heard he moved away from her neck and focused on riding again. "Expect an attack soon, Clarissa." He said gravely. A shiver of fear and anticipation danced through Clarissa's spine.


This is far too short for my liking, but i never have time to just sit down and write these days.

Please review,

Yours Faithfully,

ClaryFrayMockingjay.

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