A/N: Reposting for the sake of those who might have missed the update a few days ago. I'm really not sure at this point. The lack of response (save for the few loyal reviewers so far) is discouraging. I don't know if it's to be construed as a general lack of interest in the story. Either way, I've been trying my best here but it doesn't seem to be worth the amount of effort I've put in. Nevertheless, I will strive to uphold my promise of completing the story. Cheers.

Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns the original TMI series and characters. Any familiar quotes that you recognise from the TMI books should, of course, be attributed to the ingenuity of Cassie. However, the plot lines and other character developments etc. in this story belongs to me, xxmadworldredemptionxx. Please do not copy, reproduce, translate, or repost these stories elsewhere without my permission.

CHAPTER 9: A LEAP OF FAITH

September 15, 508

Jace was lying down on his stomach, one cheek pressed against his folded arms, as he sighed loudly. The night was still young, but since there was absolutely nothing that he was allowed to do in his current state, he was practically drowning in a sea of pure boredom. The rest of the gladiators had already left over an hour ago with their respective guards to carry out their assigned slave duties, which left Jace in the cells…alone…for at least the next three hours or so.

He cursed Sebastian for the thousandth time that day. If it weren't for the fiend, he could be moving around and do normal activities just like the rest of them, but his agonized back—and his insistent, overbearing master—kept him immobile and useless.

Speaking of Michael, Jace wished that he could punch the older man in the face from the excessive amount of nagging and coddling the latter had been giving him all day. As if it weren't humiliating enough that he had been reduced to a temporary invalid… He absolutely loathed being treated like a toddler.

The sound of the entrance to his cell being opened broke him out of his silent fuming and Jace looked up with narrowed eyes.

"Go away, Michael. I've had enough of your babying to last me a lifetime," he growled in an acidic tone.

"Now, now, Shadowhunter. Is that any way to greet your guests?" An amused voice—obviously not Michael's—replied.

Jace jerked his head up further, his eyes widening when he spotted the doctor who had helped him yesterday—Magnus—standing in his cell, and another smaller, cloaked figure he now recognized all too well.

Clary.

Except, it wasn't quite her. Her red locks were hidden from display, replaced by a brown-colored wig. She wasn't wearing her usual fancy dresses but a servant boy's clothes, and…was that a fake mustache above her upper lip?

"What are you two doing here?"

Clary giggled, a sound that made Jace's stomach flutter in an extremely odd but pleasant way. "Nope, still not satisfied. Why don't you try again? Nicer this time," she said.

"I…I thought…what—"

"It seems that a certain feline has caught his tongue, dearest Clarissa," Magnus joked as he sauntered towards Jace.

Clary followed suit with a playful bounce in her step, and though it was dimly lit in his cell, Jace could see clearly the gleam of happiness in her emerald green eyes.

His heart rate sped up and he felt his palms grow uncharacteristically sweaty. "Clary?" He found himself stuttering.

"It's 'Clark', actually," she said, self-consciously brushing her mustache with her fingers. She looked oddly pensive. "Thomas Clark."

"And Magnus Bane!" The doctor cut in, looking offended. "Don't you forget—If it weren't for my magnificent doctoring skills, you probably wouldn't have lasted the night."

"Magnus!" Clary chided. "You're being rude!"

"Well, so is he!" Magnus pointed to Jace. "Which person in his right mind ignores a fine, rare specimen such as this?" He gestured to himself flamboyantly.

Clary rolled her eyes as she plopped down onto the floor in front of Jace. "One who doesn't have interest in other men," she muttered before smiling at Jace.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Hi," he whispered, blinking his eyes as if he couldn't believe that she was here—for the second time in two nights. "What's with the disguise?"

Clary looked down at her outfit, fingered her mustache again, then shrugged. "A precaution," she said. "I can't risk being seen here as the princess two nights in a row. It'll only draw attention and raise questions among the guards. Besides, I can't have my father finding out."

Jace nodded. "Don't take this the wrong way, but…what are you doing here?"

Clary tilted her head to the side. "Aren't you glad to see me?"

"Of course I am," he spluttered. "But—"

"Always with a 'but'." She smiled at him playfully while Magnus laid down a gaudy-looking mat on the floor, his face pulled into a disgusted grimace. She shook her head at the eccentric doctor's antics then turned her attention to Jace, her face serious again.

"I wanted to know how you were doing after last night," she explained, her tone quiet. She touched his shoulder, as if she couldn't help the gesture. She had a faraway look in her eyes, like one who was remembering. "My handmaiden could tell that I was still shaken from everything that happened yesterday, so when I told her that I was going horse riding because I needed to clear my head, she didn't question it. She's used to me going horse riding almost every night… Only this time, I rode over to Magnus's—"

"Then she convinced me to come down here to check on you because she was so very worried about her darling savior's condition," Magnus finished for her in an annoyed tone. He then turned to face Clary, his cat-like eyes narrowing.

"Did you know, you have a serious knack for showing up at my doorstep at the worst possible timing?" He muttered. "You interrupted me when I was about to—"

"Spare me, please!" Clary held her hands up in front of her and shook her head back and forth vigorously. Her emerald green eyes were wide with mortification. "I don't want to hear it!"

"Hasty as ever to jump to conclusions, aren't you?" Magnus rolled his eyes. "If you must know, there was nothing scandalous going on… Although you did interrupt me during a very important moment."

"Magnus…"

"Fine, I won't tell you anything," he snapped. "But, oh, those beautiful blue eyes…" Magnus trailed off in a dreamy tone.

Clary shook her head, her cheeks tinted a rosy shade of pink. "Ignore him," she told Jace—not that he had been listening to Magnus in the first place. He was too preoccupied with staring at her, entranced by the fact that she was there—and definitely not in the form of a dream or a figment of his imagination either. "He has this obsession with people who have blue eyes. You're in the safe zone, as far as I'm concerned."

"You're one to talk, little Missy," Magnus retorted saucily, causing Clary to blush an even deeper hue of scarlet. Jace didn't know why.

September 21, 508

An entire week had passed since the horrendous whiplashing incident, and after spending all of his time being confined to his cell for recovery, Jace was finally declared well enough to resume his gladiator training and nightly duties at the royal stables.

Though he hated to admit it, he was actually excited to be back, despite the unsavory task of shoveling manure. The past couple of days had been an absolute bore. Being stuck in the dank cell all day long with no other company but Michael and Alec nearly drove him unhinged. If it weren't for Magnus's, and more importantly, Clary's—or Thomas Clark's (he smiled remembering how Clary had looked like with the mustache)—nightly visits, he might have very well lost it.

A lazy smile adorned his lips as he recalled the past few nights he had spent in the princess's company. Ever since she learnt his name, Clary had been noticeably more forthcoming with Jace. They had joked more often and their little tête-à-tête sessions, albeit brief, had been more casual and relaxed.

Granted, they hadn't divulged into anything particularly personal or serious yet, especially since Magnus was almost always there in his cell with them, but he liked how they were able to just talk about trivial things without having to worry about upsetting each other.

He knew that pursuing this friendship with Clary was risky. What if she found out about his real identity? What if she was secretly spying on him for Valentine?

But as quickly as those doubts came, they were expelled just as swiftly. Jace knew that he hadn't known Clary all that long to be able to trust her completely, but he knew it in his heart that Clary was incapable of doing such things.

Firstly, anyone who paid close enough attention to her could see that she hated her own father, even if she would never admit out loud. But more than that, she was honest and pure… Even a blind person could tell that she would never do favors for her father.

Being with Clary, especially when he was fortunate enough to witness her smiling or giggling, made Jace happier than he had been in a long time. And if he were being completely honest with himself, he had never felt more alive.

"Jace!" Clary shrieked excitedly as she ran into the stables, her emerald green eyes sparkling with child-like happiness.

She dropped the cherry-colored picnic basket she had been carrying to the floor, and unexpectedly, she flung herself at him.

Not having enough time to brace himself for the force of her hug, Jace toppled over backwards, landing on his back on the hard tiled floor with Clary on top of him. She pressed her small hands against his chest and began to giggle heartily.

Jace would have found the graceless situation equally amusing if it weren't for the sharp pain that shot through his still tender back. He winced and groaned aloud without meaning to, and almost immediately, Clary's giggles ceased and her emerald green eyes widened with worry.

"Oh, Jace, are you okay? I'm so sorry. Oh God, that was so stupid of me—and extremely inappropriate!" She blushed heavily, as if she were chastising herself in her head. "Oh, what was I thinking? I wasn't thinking! You're still hurting. Oh God, forgive—I'm really sorry, Jace," she spluttered.

"Calm yourself, Milady…I'm fine. For goodness' sake, you really need to learn how to stop rambling," he interrupted her with an amused look.

His nose inadvertently brushed against hers, and Clary's eyes widened again upon realizing how dangerously close their faces were from each other. With a tiny squeak, she quickly scrambled to her feet, then occupied herself by brushing off the dirt from her emerald green gown.

Jace got up as well, though with much more elegance this time, and grinned at the sight of the princess's flaming scarlet cheeks.

"What did I say about calling me Milady?" Clary asked, her shaky voice betraying her nervousness. She had her hands planted firmly on her hips but there were still traces of her blush on her cheeks and the exposed skin of her clavicle.

"Old habits, I suppose. If you'll make you feel better, I'll just keep reminding myself to call you Clary." Her blush deepened when he drawled out her name, and she noticeably bit her lip to stifle her shy smile.

"Are you sure you're okay?" She asked softly. "Should I call Magnus? He doesn't live far from here. We could always drop by… I'm sure he won't mind."

Jace shook his head, inwardly touched by how concerned she was over his well-being. "Hush, Clary. I'm fine… Magnus did say that I might still be sore for a while. Really. It's nothing compared to the—you know," he said, avoiding any blatant mention of the whiplashing incident. He knew that Clary still felt guilty over it, even though he had told her countless times that it wasn't her fault. He hated seeing her upset.

"I shouldn't have been so reckless," she started, remorse filling her face. "I could've—"

"Clary," Jace scolded her lightly. She looked up at him and gave him a sheepish, barely there smile. "There's nothing to forgive. Now, tell me," he spoke in a more upbeat tone, "What are you doing here?" He smiled when it elicited a favorable response from her: a feisty huff and a slight narrowing of her eyes, as if she were offended by his question.

"Oh," she scoffed, "Would you prefer it if I left you alone?"

"No, just curious, little one. No need to be so touchy," he teased.

"I am not little!" She argued. "I'm turning sixteen tomorrow!"

"Wait a minute," Jace held up his hand, his face suddenly serious. "It's your birthday?"

"To-mor-row," Clary replied, enunciating each syllable in the word.

Her face turned bashful again, and she captured her bottom lip in between her teeth, gnawing on it lightly. She often did it when she was nervous or apprehensive of his response, he realized, which only served to drive him crazy. As if it weren't already a challenge trying to keep his questionable urges in check… The little temptress!

"Anyway," Clary said in a small voice, oblivious to the slightly perverted direction his thoughts had taken. "I wanted to ask you if you would like to spend the eve of my birthday with me." She lowered her chin while studiously avoiding gaze.

Jace quietly approached her and placed two fingers underneath her chin, gently tilting it up so that he could meet her eyes. The look she gave him was hesitant and meek, as if she were afraid that he would turn her down.

In all fairness, he might have considered rejecting her…if it weren't for everything that had happened this past week.

Now, she could tell him to do just about anything and he would do it. He was about to tell her so when she said something that caught him completely off-guard:

"I brought cakes. The honey ones, to be exact."

Jace couldn't help himself—he snorted with laughter. "Bribing me with honey cakes? You're trying to make me fat, aren't you?" He asked, failing miserably at his attempt of a solemn demeanor.

In addition to Clary's little visits, she had also been spoiling him treats—snacks from Taki's mostly—and it was beginning to turn him into a sugar-obsessed child.

"You said you liked honey cakes," Clary pouted.

"I never did claim otherwise," he chuckled. "But if I suddenly lose my perfectly-chiseled abs, I'm blaming you," he said, punctuating his statement with a nudge to her nose.

Clary scoffed as he turned away from her. "Oh, please, it's not like anyone's going to see your abs anyway when you're fighting in the arena. No one's going to notice, much less care, if you're chubbier. And I beg to differ, your abs aren't as perfect as you think they are," she retorted, sticking her tongue out at him.

Jace's eyes widened as he spun around dramatically. "Oh, how you wound me so, Milady!" He jested, placing his hand over his heart in mock-hurt.

Clary rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh. "I swear… You and Jonathan should be best friends. You're both just as equally obnoxious as the other."

"Mmm, and you're, strangely, not as innocent as I thought you were, Mister Clark…" he remarked, the side of his mouth twitching into a sly half-grin.

Clary grimaced at the sound of her male alias. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Ogling at my abs…"

Clary spluttered and blushed furiously—again. "I was not…ogling!" Jace smirked widely at her defensive retort. "It wasn't as if I couldn't look anyway. I was the one changing your bandages!"

"Oh, Clary, Clary, Clary…" Jace clicked his tongue at her mockingly. "So the entire time you were 'nursing' me back to health, you were trying to take advantage of me as well?"

"YOU CONCEITED JACKASS! I WOULD NEVER!"

When Clary flung a horseshoe in his direction—he wasn't quite sure how the horseshoe found its way into her hands in the first place—Jace roared with raucous laughter as he easily dodged the infernal item.

"Okay, okay. It seems that I have tortured you enough," he said, trying hard to control himself. Fleetingly, he was tempted to point out that Clary had terrible aim, but he didn't think that she would appreciate his comment all that much.

"Are you done?" She asked in between gritted teeth.

Jace suspected that she was actually more embarrassed than angry at him but said nothing of it. He grinned as he walked towards the horses' stall, with a saddle slung casually over each shoulder. Wayfarer nickered and greeted him with his usual enthusiasm and affection, even going as far as to nuzzle his head into the crook of Jace's neck.

"Now," Jace said, "if you're done being a tomato"—Clary narrowed her eyes at him and turned impossibly redder—"I think it'd be best if we get going while the night is still young."

There was a long pregnant pause as Clary took in his words. She dropped a second horseshoe to the ground—again, he didn't know how she managed to get ahold of one, much less two horseshoes—and just stared at him as he mounted Wayfarer.

Finally, she cracked a huge grin and began bouncing on her toes enthusiastically. "We're celebrating my birthday? You're saying yes?"

He grinned as he walked Wayfarer and The Countess towards her. "I thought I made it painfully obvious when I grabbed the horses' saddles."

He offered his hand to her to help her up The Countess. She grabbed it without hesitation, giggling when he pulled her up her own horse as if she weighed nothing.

The sight of her flashing smile sent his stomach buzzing with excitement and nervousness, and he looked down to clear his throat shakily. "And besides," he attempted, masking his nerves with nonchalance, "How can I possibly say no to honey cakes?"

What had started off as a joyous, peaceful ride soon turned into one that was completely daunting and perturbing. Clary had half-expected Jace to be leading them to Lake Lyn, but instead he'd made a complete detour, and now they were trapped inside the dark and foreboding stretches of Forbidden Forest, like two rats in a maze.

"Jace," Clary whimpered, her arms tightening around her reins like a vise grip. Her heart was hammering so loudly in her chest that she was certain the sound of her wild heartbeat could be heard echoing off the trees in the forest.

"Jace," she pleaded with him again.

"Shh, Clary. It's all right. Don't worry about it. We're not lost," Jace replied, not sounding in the least bit unsettled.

Clary wasn't sure whether to take his confidence as a positive sign that he genuinely knew where he was going, or that he was simply being his complacent and egotistical self. She hoped to God it was the former. She didn't know how long she could survive being in there… It was called the Forbidden Forest for a reason!

How she wanted to smack him senseless with the picnic basket for dragging her in there. But then, it wouldn't do her any good if her only guide was knocked out cold, would it?

Overhead, the moonlight cast ominous shadows on everything that it touched. Cedar trees towered above them sinisterly like the dark, malevolent spirits of the forest; angry, deformed faces materializing from the gnarled and twisted bark of the tree trunks. Their crooked, sprawling branches molded into the shape of grisly, unearthly talons, and shadows—baleful shadows—haunted the couple from every corner, forming the illusion of monstrous apparitions.

As the loud hooting of an owl penetrated the still air, Clary whimpered loudly and buried her face into The Countess's neck.

"Jace!"

He stumbled a little when The Countess incidentally bumped into Wayfarer, but other than that, he managed to keep himself upright and steady. Realizing that Clary was as good as useless when it came to commandeering The Countess in her present state, he decided to take her reins and pulled her horse at a safe distance alongside his.

"Shh, Clary, just relax. We're almost there," he told her in a sonorous voice.

Despite herself, Clary rolled her eyes in response, wondering exasperatedly where "there" was supposed to be. Did he even know where he was going? Was there even a remotely safe place in the Forbidden Forest?

But true to Jace's promise, both of their horses' trots soon slowed down to a halt.

Warily, Clary lifted her head from The Countess's neck, and instantly, dread filled her again.

They were in a no better place than they were over twenty minutes ago. She didn't recognize anything that was familiar or offered her the impression of safety. It was just dark.

"What… Where are we, Jace?" Her voice trembled.

Again, Jace showed no signs of apprehension as he dismounted his brown steed. He landed on the ground with a soft thud then offered her his hand.

"Come on, Clary." His expression implored her to trust him, and hesitantly, she did.

As soon as her feet landed on solid ground, she unthinkingly tucked herself into Jace's side, her hands yanking the material of his tunic tightly. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and hauled her closer to him, before retrieving the basket from her shaking hands.

"Come on," he repeated as he led her deeper into the glade.

They both came to a stop once they reached the edge of the clearing. An enormous tree stood in their path; it was like nothing at all Clary had ever seen, grotesque, yet strangely beautiful at the same time.

Its trunk was massive and sturdy, with swirling vines that interwove with one another, forming a series of intricate knots. Thick, long branches—embellished with various hues of green that fluttered lightly against the soft night breeze—protruded from the tree, extending in wild directions while forming an ornate pattern that resembled a spider web.

But none of them captured her attention as much its actual striking feature: a tall archway formed in the middle of its trunk. It could easily be passed off as a mystical portal to another dimension. A canopy of billowing leaves hung down from it like an old, worn tapestry, obscuring the panorama that laid beyond the mysterious, old tree.

"We don't have time to stare at it all night long, Clary."

It was only after Jace had tugged her forward, in the direction of the veiled archway that she realized she had been frozen to the spot for over a minute, silently gaping at it. She turned her head towards him, deep creases formed on her forehead, but he only smiled at her in return.

What is he doing? Clary began to panic. What if there were snakes or other carnivorous creatures hiding behind that archway, secretly waiting to pounce and feast on their human flesh? Or worse, what if there were supernatural beings guarding the place, biding their time to lead them to some other transcendental realm, where they could never escape?

Clary knew that she was being irrational by conjuring up a bunch of ridiculous theories, but at this point, she couldn't help it. Was Jace crazy?

Oh my God! What if he is crazy and psychotic? She thought worriedly. Maybe he's been hiding the fact that he was distressed this whole time and is trying to retaliate by killing me! It makes sense—I was the reason he nearly died. Oh no, he's going to murder me, and then he's going to dump my body here and leave me to rot where no one else can find me!

Clary's eyes widened in fear, and without warning, she let out a loud, ear-piercing scream.

It achieved the desired effect as Jace stepped away from her frantically and reeled over backwards, landing rather clumsily on his backside. The picnic basket he had been carrying landed on the ground in an overturned position, but neither of them paid any mind to it.

They were both staring at each other wide-eyed, Jace obviously stunned and Clary hysterical over the possibility of her losing her life.

She held her hands out in front of her as if to ward him away, and then, before either of them could comprehend what was going on, she burst into a run, heading towards the horses.

It took Jace only a second to regroup himself, and then, he was up on his feet, his long strides easily catching up with her.

Clary was about to mount The Countess when she felt Jace's strong, muscular arms grabbing her from behind, yanking her body back to his. She panicked and began throwing small punches on his arms, willing him to free her, but he didn't budge. In fact, he only held onto her tighter.

"Let go of me!" She shrieked frantically. "Jace! Let go!"

In a desperate attempt to free herself, Clary bit down hard on Jace's arm, and he effectively released her, muttering curses as he examined the new tiny teeth marks on his arm.

Stumbling haphazardly to the ground, she hastily crawled behind The Countess, using the white horse as a shield to protect herself from the gladiator. She peeked in between the horse's legs at Jace and saw him eyeing her queerly, as though he was mulling over the possibility that she had gone insane.

"Clary, what the hell is wrong with you?" He asked her in disbelief.

"You—you were going to kill me then dump my body into some—some swamp!" She yelled as tears began pouring down from her eyes.

Jace gave her a look of pure incredulity at her accusation, and then to her surprise, he doubled over in manic laughter, clutching his stomach as he did.

"What the hell is so funny?" Clary demanded. Her cheeks were still stained with tears but she was no longer crying.

Inwardly, she knew that she should be feeling terrified. There was nothing about the situation that warranted any laughter, yet there he was, amused for no absolute reason that she could comprehend.

It was disconcerting, but at the same time, she felt unbelievably outraged. She had given him her trust and he'd betrayed her, mocking her with laughter in her final moments. How could anyone be so sick?

"You—you thought I was—going to kill you!" Jace managed to snort out in between bouts of unhindered laughter.

He clutched at his stomach again and Clary waited for several minutes before he finally calmed down, a huge infuriating grin plastered onto his face. She growled at him, and the grin instantly fell from his lips.

Slowly, he walked towards her and gently heaved her off of the ground. He then brought her to his chest and hugged her to him lightly. Clary protested against him, still feeling angry and doubtful, but mostly embarrassed by her own stupidity.

"Clary, where did you get that crazy notion from?" Jace asked her in a gentle voice, though she could tell that he was trying to control himself from laughing again.

"You were going to drag me to that weird, scary tree," she replied thinly. She looked up at him and glared. "Obviously, my imagination ran wild. I thought you wanted to kill me for revenge on the whole whiplashing incident with Sebastian."

Jace's eyes softened. "I know. And I'll admit—dragging you to that tree must have seemed very… shady of me. But Clary, I've already told you—I don't blame you for that incident with Sebastard. You trust me, don't you? I'll never let anything bad happen to you. I promise." His tone was reassuring and sincere that Clary couldn't help but forgive him. It was her own fault for jumping to asinine conclusions anyway, not his.

She nodded slowly. "But Jace, why are we going into that tree?" She asked, subconsciously placing her hands on his waist.

Jace smirked. "That's for me to know, and for you to find out," he simply replied.

Taking her smaller hand into his much larger one, he tugged her towards the tree again. Clary didn't move, only stiffened and looked apprehensive.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Jace," she said, eyeing the archway suspiciously. "Why don't we go to Lake Lyn instead? At least I'm familiar with that area…"

Jace shook his head. "Oh, come on, Clary. Have a little faith in me," he pleaded with her.

Clary gave him a pointed look, which he returned with an uncharacteristic puppy dog expression—wide golden eyes, deep pout and all. It was infuriatingly hard to say no to him when he looked at her like that, so with a deep sigh, she hesitantly took a step forward and then another, until they were finally standing in front of the veiled entrance of the tree.

"Almost there," Jace said excitedly.

He let go of her for a brief moment to retrieve the neglected picnic basket, then took her hand in his again. Clary subconsciously tightened her grip as she glanced at the archway.

"You better not make me regret my decision of trusting you," she grumbled, hating how her voice shook with nervousness. "And just so we're clear—If I die, I'll make sure to haunt you for the rest of your life," she warned.

Jace cocked an eyebrow at her expertly. "Look at you… Not even sixteen and already making threats. My, my, Clary…how you've grown," he teased her.

"Don't you even get me started about my height, you sarcastic idiot," she muttered, hoping to ignite another banter that would help stall him for another minute or two.

It didn't work. Jace only smirked at her as he pulled her towards the leaf-infested archway.

"Don't worry," he said. "I don't think we'll run into any snakes."

"What?" Clary nearly shrieked.

"No more screaming, please. My ears have endured enough damage for today." Jace grinned. "I was just joking about the snakes, by the way," he told her with a wink.

"After you, Milady," he inclined his head to the side, nudging her towards the entrance.

Clary chewed on her bottom lip nervously as she stared the archway down. She could see nothing beyond the mass of thick vines and leaves, and rightfully, she was afraid.

What was it that awaited her on the other side? Did Jace even have a clue of where they would end up? Did she trust him enough to take that leap of faith for him?

Her answer was revealed to her the instant she looked into his eyes, her mind replaying his sacrifice—of how he had thrown his body on the line for her.

If he could take leaps, to dive off a metaphorical cliff for her, then she could too. She would do it for him, at least.

So with a deep intake of breath, Clary entered the archway.

Beautiful was an understatement to describe the enchanting view that greeted them as they arrived at the other side of the archway.

There, as far as the eye could see, was a meadow. It stretched on for miles upon miles, a glorious and almost-divine expanse of lush green grass, festooned with a multitude of flowers—reds, yellows, purples and whites clashed against each other in a riot of colors.

Clary recognized some of the species of flowers from her botany books—rose mallows, marigolds, cape daisies, wild birds, corn chamomiles and a dozen more she barely even remembered herself. Yet, an even more breathtaking sight was the myriad of fireflies that floated amongst the flora, radiating a swarm of bright yellow luster that was even more brilliant than any of the stars that hung in the night sky.

Suddenly, Clary's initial thoughts about magical portals didn't seem so far-fetched. How could such beauty exist in the Forbidden Forest, a place known for dark spirits, wild creatures and death?

But that was the reality of the world, she realized. Everything was a mixture of beautiful and hideous, good and bad, and light and dark. For there to be a balance, paradoxes needed to exist.

In this case, the Forbidden Forest was just an illusion that concealed this beauty from the eyes of people who cowered away from it and failed to search deeper. She was grateful that she wasn't one of those people.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Jace's resonant voice broke Clary out of her reverie. She had been so enamored by the magical sight that she had completely forgotten about his presence.

"Breathtaking," she whispered, finding the lack of ability to take her eyes off of the meadow.

Clary shook her head and let out a breathless laugh. "It's…odd," she said, so quiet she could have been speaking to herself. "I hadn't been expecting this at all. This whole time, they kept telling everyone to stay out of the Forbidden Forest. I would have never seen such beauty if it weren't for you… Thank you, Jace."

Jace smiled at her. Her emerald eyes were shimmering with complete wonderment that it made his heart melt. He had his reservations before but seeing her reaction now was worth every little doubt he'd had. She loved the meadow more than he thought possible, but more importantly than that, he had made her happy by sharing this gift with her.

Gently, he twined his fingers with her smaller ones, tugging her hand lightly to get her attention. He noticed her reluctance as she peeled her eyes away from the meadow and begrudgingly spared him a glance, a questioning look etched onto her porcelain face.

"What is it?" She asked. "Do we have to leave already?"

"Not yet," Jace chuckled. "Although…we don't have all night for you to keep staring at it," he repeated the words he'd said to her earlier with a large smile.

Clary rolled her eyes at him but smiled nonetheless. There was a faint blush on her cheeks, and she squeezed his hand gently, as if conveying her apology for her premature skepticism.

"Come, Clary," he said, leading the way into the meadow.

Clary giggled softly and wordlessly followed, her insides imploding with excitement. As Jace tugged her down to sit, she eagerly complied, soaking in the feeling of the grass against her body. It was soft, surprisingly even softer than any silk that had ever graced her skin.

She inhaled the scent that wafted through the air deeply—the sweet-smelling fragrance of flowers mixed with the fresh, earthy smell of rich soil.

"Is this really real?" Clary looked up at Jace, who was observing her with a small smile. He nodded. "I'm not dreaming, am I?" She asked again, and this time, he shook his head.

"No, you're not. We're really here," he said softly.

Clary looked away from his smouldering gaze and absentmindedly ran her fingers over the grass. She delicately caressed the soft petal of a flower belonging to a plant she didn't recognize.

The flower was rather oddly shaped, slightly hairy in texture, and its color was a soft blend of white and lilac.

"That's Clary Sage," Jace told her after watching her finger the petal of the flower curiously.

Clary looked up at him, a look of surprise on her face, mostly because of the stark realization that the flower was her namesake.

"It's beautiful," she returned, not knowing what else to say.

His aureate eyes fixated on her, staring at her with such intensity that made her speechless. "Just like you," he said earnestly.

Clary blushed and looked away, distractedly reaching for the picnic basket. She took out the container that held the honey cakes she had purchased from Taki's earlier that afternoon, and gently removed the lid. The sight that greeted her caused her lips to turn into a frown.

"They're all ruined," she said sullenly.

Jace took the box from her hands. He wouldn't go as far as to say that they cakes were 'ruined', just not in tip-top condition as he assumed they originally were.

"Oh well…at least they're still edible. It's your fault I dropped the basket just now anyway, what with you screaming like you're part-banshee. You're lucky I didn't die of a heart attack. Otherwise, you'd be trapped in this forest forever," he commented flippantly.

Clary narrowed her eyes at him. "My fault? Are you honestly blaming me now?" She scoffed indignantly. "Why, yes, now that I think of it, of course it's my fault! After all, anyone in their right minds wouldn't get suspicious and freak out when they're being dragged into the Forbidden Forest and into an even creepier tree!" She retorted, laying on the sarcasm thick.

"You have such little faith in me…" Jace placed a hand over his heart in mock-hurt. "Surely you must've heard of the expression that things aren't always what they seem."

His response, in turn, caused Clary to smirk. "Hmm, I quite agree with that expression, especially where you are concerned. I mean, who would've thought that underneath all that hard muscle, you were just a jumpy little boy? I mean, it took one little scream to knock you off your feet—literally," she mocked him.

"Oh, don't even go there, missy. I'll have you know that nothing gets to Jace Her—" He caught himself before he could let his surname slip.

Clary quirked an eyebrow. "Her—?"

Jace cleared his throat loudly. "Nothing. I just thought there was something on your hair. It's gone now," he lied smoothly.

Clary shrugged. "You are such a weird boy." She shook her head before reaching for another honey cake herself.

And just like that, Jace's almost slip-up was forgotten.

As they devoured their cakes contentedly, Clary suggested a game to get to know each other better. The rules were simple enough; they basically had to take turns asking each other questions and the other had to answer them without any objections.

Jace was skeptical at first, but when Clary had flashed the 'But it's my birthday!' card, he had no choice but to cave in to her wishes.

Still, despite her promise that they would avoid asking each other any intimate or sensitive questions, the general idea of someone asking him things about himself unnerved him. He didn't like talking about himself, even if he had the tendency to come across as an arrogant showboater to his fellow competitors and strangers alike.

On the other hand, he did enjoy learning new things about Clary. It made getting to know her and their 'friendship' seem all the more real.

With each new information he pieced about her, he began to see that she wasn't just the princess of Idris, or Valentine's daughter, or the girl with fiery red hair and emerald green eyes. She was more than that… She was Clary, a person of her own.

In all but a span of ten minutes, Jace learned that Clary loved horses and books, was a terrible dancer, but a fairly decent artist like her mother. She told him that she loved sketching in her free time, and only occasionally dabbled with paints, the reason for the latter being that it was too much of a hassle to clean up afterwards—and it was also a greater challenge finding a place to hide her work.

"My father doesn't approve of my love for art," she had reluctantly offered him that tiny detail. "To him, art is just an unproductive use of time and a waste of resources. A good queen serves her king by bearing his children, not producing pieces of trash unworthy of a place on his palace walls."

Noticing how the mention of her father had put a damper on her mood, Jace had immediately teased her by offering to become her nude model, claiming that his looks could easily put Adonis's to shame.

"I would put up that masterpiece in my cell," he'd smirked at her. "I'll be the first gladiator to have a nude portrait commissioned."

It had worked in his favor as Clary returned his jest with a much endearing blush. "T-that's—very inappropriate," she had said, her face burning a bright red that almost matched her hair. "But I wouldn't mind doing a face sketch of you the next time we're here."

Jace had smiled when she'd said that. Next time. She was already looking forward to making more trips to the meadow with him. He unknowingly struck it off as a major accomplishment in his book.

His happiness, however, was short-lived as they began talking about something Jace resented almost as much as Valentine:

Ducks.

Clary giggled heartily. "So you're saying that if you were given the choice of whether to fight against a pack of lions or a flock of ducks in the arena, you would choose to fight lions instead?" Her eyes were crinkled with so much joy that Jace would have laughed too, if it weren't for the fact that she was only amused at his expense.

So he settled for leveling her with an incredulous look instead. "Yes Clary, I'm saying that exactly," he said flatly.

She giggled again. "But Jace, ducks are so cute! They're so fluffy and cuddly, and besides, I've always wanted a little duckling as a pet!"

Jace stared wide-eyed at her as if she had suddenly sprouted two heads. "Never, ever trust a duck or call it 'cute', Clarissa. Those devious little creatures… Have you ever seen their eyes? They're beady, like a demon's. I bet they're a bunch of bloodthirsty cannibals too," he gritted out, causing Clary to laugh even harder.

"Ah, whatever you say, Jace." She grinned at him widely.

After a while, they lapsed into a companionable silence, basking in the peacefulness of the meadow… That is, until Clary finally chose to speak up again.

"Jace, how did you find this place?" She asked, sparing him an intent look.

Jace stiffened as he swallowed the last bite of cake in his mouth almost painfully.

The question was simple and straightforward, but he knew that the answer wasn't. In hindsight, he probably should have anticipated her question…

But he had been so blinded by his own excitement to make her birthday celebration a special one, worthy of her remembering years from now, that he'd completely forgotten and slipped. How could he have been so stupid and careless?

Maybe if you had thought with your head instead of what lies down south, you could have avoided this situation, his snide conscience remarked.

Oh, shut up, Jace thought, bristling at the jab his own subconscious had come up with. No one even asked you—Oh Lord, why am I arguing with myself AGAIN?

In the midst of his frustration, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to mull over Clary's question.

Truthfully, of course, the reason he had known about this place was because of his parents; they had brought him here when he was only five years old. It was one of those life-changing moments in his life, so he recalled that day perfectly.

Just like Clary, he had been utterly terrified (and had very nearly wet his own trousers) when his father had dragged him through the archway in the old tree. And just like Clary, he had been completely awed when he first saw the enchanting meadow.

At one point, little Jace had been convinced that he'd stepped into a land of fantasy and had been mildly disappointed when he discovered that the fireflies weren't faeries after all, and that there was no possible chance for him to meet a centaur or a dragon or even a leprechaun. "Even the things that we may perceive as magic has its limitations," his mother had told him with a chuckle.

Later, as they had sat down and enjoyed their picnic, his father had recounted to him about his adventures as a young man, exploring the unmapped territories of Idris. He'd told him about how it had been a mere coincidence when he discovered the meadow, and how often he'd returned to the place since then. When his mother came into his life, his father took her there as well. "This is our place," Stephen had told him proudly.

Our place, Jace thought. And now, this place belongs to Clary, too.

"Jace?" Clary's voice broke him out of his deep rumination.

"Hmm?" He blinked his eyes rapidly to clear his mind off of his thoughts.

"Are you okay?" She asked, looking concerned for him.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just remembering," he said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

As he reassessed the situation, he realized then that he didn't quite know why he had even brought Clary to the meadow in the first place. Divine intervention was always the most convenient excuse, but he reckoned that, perhaps, the more likely reason was this: that despite the fact that his mind kept insisting that he couldn't, shouldn't trust Clary enough to tell her about his real identity, his heart still yearned for him to open up to her.

And of course, what better way to open up to her than by bringing her to a place that was close to his heart?

Maybe in a sense, his heart was telling him that he did trust Clary. If only things weren't as complicated as they were…

"It's just that—I-I don't know how to say this," Jace stammered. Clary reached for both of his hands and squeezed them gently in assurance. It was unexpectedly comforting, so he didn't pull away from her touch.

"Can you—Can you keep a secret?" He finally asked in a small voice.

His heart was beating so fast and hard in his chest, and Jace felt momentarily overwhelmed by the vulnerability and fear that had so suddenly taken up residence in his heart. It had been so long since he had felt such fear—since the night of his parents' untimely demise, in fact—and it unsettled him.

"Yes." She smiled at him encouragingly.

He subconsciously squeezed her hands tighter, feeling comfort and a tiny bit of confidence radiating from her touch. He sighed resignedly.

"I used to live here, in Idris," he said, "before I became I slave…"

Clary was quiet as she processed his words, and she rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb. He looked at her warily, noticing how she was looking at him without the usual overbearing curiosity, but with sympathy and sadness. Strangely enough, it didn't throw him off. He didn't like feeling pitied, but when it came from Clary, it didn't quite feel that way. She looked at him as if she understood.

"So," she began carefully, "I take it your parents used to take you here?"

Jace winced noticeably and looked away from her with a nod. A lump was beginning to form in his throat, and he didn't think he was capable of speech at the moment.

To his surprise, Clary didn't push it. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

Jace nodded and gave her a small smile to convey his apology—for not being able to tell her about his past—and his gratitude towards her—for her not pushing him to tell her about it. She gave him a small smile in return then offered him the last cake.

"Thanks, Clary," he said, his tone quiet. He looked away from her as he took a bite out of his cake, appearing to be lost in his own thoughts.

Clary smiled at him. "You're welcome, Jace," she said, though judging from the glazed and distant look in his eyes, she knew that he probably didn't hear her.

But it didn't matter. The point of it all was that she knew better. She wasn't going to pry anything from Jace if he wasn't comfortable with talking about it. She was curious about his past life in Idris but she had learned from their past few encounters that she should never push him to tell her things he didn't want to. She could see from his face how much it hurt him to remember his past—it was definitely the chink in his armor.

She knew now that his entire masculine ego and arrogance was just a façade, a mask he turned to to hide his real feelings, his insecurities. Underneath all of his perfection, he was really just a little boy—scared and vulnerable and lost.

Yet, Clary found that she wasn't turned off by his flaws; it only made him seem more of a human, and she liked that about him.

In the far distance, the bell constructed atop the famous clock tower of Idris tolled twelve times, signaling that it was already midnight.

Clary's eyes widened in shock as she realized that not only had she been spending a whole three hours with Jace, but she had just missed her curfew as well. What if someone came into her room to check in on her and found her missing? Granted, that rarely ever happened, and the only other people who would visit her chambers at night would be Isabelle or her brother, but she knew better than to tempt fate.

And, if by some measure of rotten luck, HER FATHER were to find out, he would probably send out a search party for her, and that would definitely result in disastrous consequences for her, and especially Jace.

Oh my God—Jace! He would probably be accused of abducting me and then Father would most likely sentence him to death! She thought worriedly.

"Jace! We have to go! Now!" Clary almost screamed at him as she scrambled to her feet.

He looked at her in confusion, and she wondered if he had even heard the bell at all. "What?"

"It's midnight!"

He furrowed his eyebrows at her, as if he still didn't understand.

"I've just missed my curfew," Clary explained in a harried tone. "If anyone finds out that I'm missing from my room, we'll both be dead! Please, Jace, we have to go!" She said urgently, tugging at his arm to force him up onto his feet.

Hearing the insistence in her voice, Jace quickly got up. Clary was clearly in a state of frenzy, and he wasn't going to go against her wishes. Besides, she did have a point. They needed to get back before Simon or Michael returned to the stables to find him missing, only to show up with the princess minutes later.

He could imagine the sort of trouble he would be in then. The gladiator and the princess? How remarkably scandalous!

Time passes by too quickly, he thought in passing.

"Hurry, Jace!"

Clary tugged at his arm urgently before her impatience got the best of her. In her haste to leave, she mistakably took a huge step forward, noticing only far too late that the picnic basket was obstructing her way. As she lost her footing, tumbling forward with flailing arms and tightly squeezed eyelids, she braced herself for the impact of the fall—

But it never came.

Strong hands clutched her by her waist, and Clary felt herself being hauled backwards into Jace's muscular arms, her back pressed up against his chest. Her heartbeat sped up, and as she turned around to thank Jace, he tilted his face down towards her, and caught her lips with his.

Jace didn't know what he was doing, but for once in his life, he didn't care.

He faintly registered the sound of Clary's gasp as their lips touched, but even then, he didn't shy away from her. Her mouth stilled against his, hard and unrelenting for the first few seconds before she responded to him tentatively, their mouths moving together fluidly as if performing a perfectly harmonized duet.

He had never had much experience with kissing girls to compare it to such a metaphor, but he had known music, having spent hours in his childhood sat perched on his windowsill as he strummed his lute to form its own brand of poetry. It had been the closest he had ever felt to achieving a sense of fulfillment.

Kissing Clary felt like that—and more.

He gently maneuvered her within the circle of his arms and pulled her body flush against his, dipping her head backwards to deepen the kiss. Clary's hands threaded through his soft, lustrous curls, pulling his face closer to hers. His own left arm held her securely against his body, one hand resting on her waist while the other wove itself through her long red tresses.

Too soon, the need for air forced them to resurface and they pulled themselves away from each other. They were both panting heavily, as though they had just ran from one corner of the meadow to the other…but they were smiling, their bodies thrumming with euphoria from that single kiss. Jace leaned his forehead against Clary's, their breaths intermingling.

"We really need to go," she panted, her emerald green eyes gazing deeply into his golden ones. Her pupils were dilated with desire, as he imagined his own were.

"All right. Let's go," he reluctantly complied, but only after placing another small peck by the corner of her mouth.

They broke out of their embrace before heading back to the forest clearing—all the while their hands remained entwined with each other.

The ride back to the royal stables was in peaceful silence.

Every so often, Clary and Jace would steal glances at each other while they rode their horses, then break into a shy smile or an embarrassed laugh. Everything about their exchange screamed innocence—which was what both of them, admittedly, were.

Before Jace, Clary had never felt the desire to touch a man who wasn't family, much less kiss one! But she had thrown it all out of the window for that one gladiator—all her lessons on propriety, on upholding her conservative morals, gone! Truthfully, she was embarrassed that she had succumbed to him so easily, that she hadn't had the strength to restrain herself enough. Was that considered as sinning? What would her brother say if he were to find out? What would her mother have said? Clary shook her head at her inner turmoil.

But despite herself, she couldn't bring herself to regret it completely. Kissing Jace had been, in a word, surreal. At the very least, she lost her first kiss to a man who had shown her nothing but compassion and respect in the time they had known each other.

Clary only wished that Jace had been born a prince instead of a gladiator. Oh, she would've married him in a heartbeat!

Just the thought of being wed to someone else, of kissing another man's lips, felt wrong.

She sighed wearily at the thought. At this point though, she just hoped that no one would notice her missing from the palace and go searching for her. She didn't want to be the reason for Jace getting into trouble, not when her night had been so unbelievably perfect so far.

When they finally reached their destination, Clary jumped off of The Countess, her green eyes shifting about anxiously as she scanned the stables.

Jace did the same thing, though much more discreetly, searching for signs of his master or of Simon's presence. Neither were there, which wasn't uncommon, he realized. Michael had a habit of being tardy and Simon didn't quite care about him to actually be there.

Heaving a sigh of relief, he walked Wayfarer and The Countess over to their respective stalls and began his routine of unsaddling and unbridling the horses, mindful to complete the tasks quickly. When he was done, he secured the bolts to the horses' enclosures, then returned the items to their designated stations.

Finally when he turned around, he found Clary standing behind him, wringing her hands in a gesture of nervous anticipation.

"What happens now? Between the two of us?" Clary asked timidly, her green eyes not daring to look into his aureate ones.

Jace sighed heavily. "I don't know, Clary," he replied after a while. "Things—it's just complicated between us. I'm me and you're…you. I don't know how—"

"But you do want to be with me, don't you?" She interrupted, her eyes glazing with unshed tears when she finally made eye contact with him.

Jace froze for a moment at the straightforwardness of Clary's question.

Did he want to be with her?

His answer came, faster than he thought it would. Yes. Of course I do.

He didn't understand the depth of his feelings for her, but he already knew without a shred of a doubt that he at least liked Clary.

It didn't matter if she was infuriating and made him mad at times. The point was, she made him feel something. And that was better than just living his life like an empty vessel, never truly able to feel anything. It all came down to whether it would be worth the risk.

Was Clary worth the chance? Would it all be worth it, to free-fall into the unknown?

His mind replayed the kiss that he had shared with her in the meadow, how his heart had raced with so much adrenaline, and dared he say it, happiness. In those few moments, he'd allowed his mind to completely erase his worries, his past, and his quest for revenge—and he would be lying if he said that it hadn't been liberating.

Was it right to feel this way though? Was he being selfish for wanting Clary more than he wanted to kill Valentine—possibly more than he wanted to avenge his parents?

"I do," Jace said, his tone as unwavering as the determination reflected in his golden eyes. "I want there to be an…us. There's nothing I want more than that, nothing I want more than you. I'm not going to lie. I really like you, Clary, and I want you to give me a chance—to give us a chance," he said earnestly. "You will, won't you? You'll give us a chance?"

Clary smiled as a happy tear ran down her cheek. "Of course. Even if it's nearly impossible, I still want to be with you." She blushed then, looking at him from underneath her eyelashes. "And I really like you too, Jace," she admitted, biting her lip abashedly.

Jace chuckled as he carefully tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

Clary's breath hitched at the gesture, even more so when he proceeded to swipe the errant tear away from her cheek. It was a habit of nature, but Clary couldn't help it. As much as she felt safe in Jace's presence, she couldn't stop herself from feeling wary of his—of anyone's—touch that bordered anywhere within the perimeters of her face. How many times already had similar 'touches' left her with a stinging cheek?

"Then, will you, Milady, grant me the honor of courting you?" He asked her in a formal tone.

Clary smiled at him and raised her hand, just only managing to control it from shaking. Jace didn't seem to notice as he gently grabbed her fingers and planted a soft kiss on the back of her hand, his lips lingering on her skin.

"Yes," Clary finally said. Then as an after-thought, she added, "I hope you don't mind me saying this, Jace. But I think it would be best if we're to restrain ourselves from kissing each other again so soon. It's not that I didn't enjoy it," she said quickly, "But I don't want our relationship to be built based on our physical desires for each other. Besides, I would like to observe tradition as far as possible. I—"

"I understand, Clary," Jace said in an earnest tone. "And I respect that. I promise to refrain from imposing on your boundaries for the duration of our courtship."

Clary only nodded.

"Will you come meet me, tomorrow night?" He asked.

Clary nodded comprehendingly. "Tomorrow night. I'll see you then." She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, before turning to leave.

"Clary?" His voice stopped her in her tracks and she turned back to look at him expectantly. He grinned at her. "Happy Birthday, Clarissa."

Clary blushed like the smitten young girl that she was and said softly, "This has been the happiest birthday for me, do you know that?"

"Of course," he replied smugly.

She rolled her eyes with a huff. "I should have expected that," she said as she headed for the exit of the stables. She paused just as she reached the doorway and smiled. "Good night, Jace."

Jace returned her smile. "Good night, Clary," he replied in a gentle whisper.

Even long after she had vanished from his sight, he continued to grin to himself, his fingers lightly tracing his lips as he reminisced about their first kiss in the meadow. Pursuing this relationship with Clary was risky, but for now, he didn't want to worry about the consequences.

He wanted to feel happy—even if it only lasted for one night.

A/N: Let me know your thoughts on this chapter. I'll PM you a SNIPPET of the next one if you leave me a review :)

Old readers... Did you like the first scene where Clary (alias Clark) visited Jace in the cells? Cos I totally just wrote that new scene in.

Also, thank you to Aubrey Kelly, Jling, the0tmi0love0sh, Creatify and guest reviewers for your reviews last chapter. I truly appreciate them all! To the0tmi0love0sh, I apologise for not sending you a snippet, but apparently your account disabled the PM feature? Guest reviewers—Sorry guys, but it's just not possible to PM you unless you have an account :( but I am grateful nonetheless for your kind reviews!

OK, so long A/N ahead for those who bother to read Author's Notes:

So in the original version, Clary and Jace were a lot more touchy-touchy with each other, in a sense that they were kinda more open towards holding and kissing each other, even at the beginning of their relationship. But when I was reviewing the story, I decided that I needed to change this bit. Here's how I would justify it:

1. Conservative Background

Long before the barbarism of the gladiator games were introduced into Idris by Valentine, I have reason to believe that conservatism played a huge part in constructing the values of the Idrisian society—as well as societies that exist in their neighbouring kingdoms. As such, these values would have been embedded into generations of Idrisians—including the Morgenstern and Herondale families—and translate into their habits and views of how to conduct themselves in relationships.

Such is in Clary's case; her reservedness remains very much an integral part of her character because of her upbringing (and when I say 'upbringing', we can quite safely assume that most of her influence comes from her mother). Call it 'prude' but that's just how Clary, and most women in her society, are like. Besides, she's young (like 16 years old), so she's supposed to be innocent and pure. So for now, excluding their first kiss, the most contact she is willing to initiate or allow from Jace is hand-holding. (Her tackling Jace in the beginning was an out-of-character moment for her. Also, other moments when she unwittingly reached out for Jace—in the Forbidden Forest, for instance—can be attributed to nerves).

As for Jace, he too was raised in a conservative family so he can easily understand Clary's views about honor and refraining from physical intimacy during their courtship. Plus, underneath all that gladiator-hotness, Jace is a complete gentleman...agreed?

As far as naive, impressionable teenagers go, Clace will have their moments of slip-ups, but I like to think that they are the kind who are true to themselves and their moral principles, first. Plus, as Clary mentioned, I don't want their relationship to grow based on their physical desires for each other, but rather based on the depth of their emotions and the sacrifices they make for each other. That's far more important in the development of romance between them: the nurturing effect that they have on each other. This isn't Romeo & Juliet where it's 'love' based on blind passion.

2. Clary's Past

So Clary, in general, is wary of men because of the abuse she's suffered at the hands of her father. There are very few men whom Clary would trust when it comes to touching her. a) Magnus, because he's her doctor. b) Simon, because he is the only other genuine friend she has apart from Izzy. c) Her brother, Jonathan, because he's the one who takes care of her the most. (There's something special about the relationship between the Morgenstern siblings, hence the reason why I love Jon. Selfless, protective brother? One in a million—Sorry, digressing here).

So, point I'm trying to make here is... Because of the bitter experiences inflicted by her father, Clary has been influenced into the mentality that if her own flesh and blood could hurt her, then why wouldn't a stranger? Granted, Jace is no longer a stranger, BUT he is very new to her, so it will take time for her to let him in completely. She's smart that way.

OK, I'm going to stop here. I'm sorry for long A/Ns. My old readers would understand how much I like injecting my thoughts and interpretations on my own story and how I play with the various characterizations. Analyzing characters and situations are kind of just my thing.

Until next time, peace xoxo