Morgenstern and Herondale
We had arrived at the church.
It was a huge and ancient-looking building, something that archeologists would envy. Currently, I was cooped up in the bride's room. But, honestly, it was more like an animal holding cage. It was plain white and small, the size of my old bedroom. Unfortunately, the ceremony started in half an hour, at one o'clock, so the guests had began arriving ever since midday, leaving my nerves alight and blazing.
I was fumbling nervously with my bouquet; it was a freshly-smelling bunch of white roses wrapped in a white lacy material. The flowers scent was beginning to dull my scared thumping heart, until the door opened. Valentine stepped inside, wearing a crisp black suit and tie that clashed with his neat, stark white hair. "We're starting the ceremony early. All the guests have arrived already."
My eyes widened in shock, my lips trembling. "Now?" I whispered weakly.
He smiled proudly. "Now." Valentine held his arm out to me. Instead, I leapt up and wrapped my arms around his waist, hugging him. My dad was a man who taunted, mocked and sometimes even hurt me, but the negative things didn't outweigh the good things he's done. He's raised me, taught me, helped me and loved me. I would miss him.
Valentine rubbed my shoulders, pulling me back to look into my eyes. "I am proud of you, Clary. You've turned into a very brave, beautiful young woman." He held his arm for me again. I sighed and took it, slipping my arm into his and holding the flowers in my left hand. I needed to be strong.
We strolled through the door, Valentine leading me through the empty hallways. We were approaching closer and closer to the chatter and laughter of people. Arriving behind an enormous old door, my father asked me, "Ready?"
"No." I murmured as he pushed it open.
The hall was huge. People packed the benches; a mulitude of different coloured eyes looking at me in anticipation. My breathing sped up, almost choking me. Everybody stood up, gasping, awing and smiling at me as we began our descent down the petal strewn aisle. The music started up, a different assortment of violins and violas, and we walked in time to the tempo. I nearly died of embarassment.
I looked at the guests near the front; Jonathan was looking worriedly at me, Jocelyn beaming and dabbing at her eyes. On the other side were Stephen and Celine, grinning at me. Reluctantly, I looked ahead.
There stood Jace.
He was facing me, genuinly smiling. He wore a black suit with a light golden tie, matching my dress and his hair. His piercing amber eyes melted into mine.
We were getting closer and closer.
Closer.
Closer.
And then I was there, and Valentine was handing my shaking hand into Jace's, and everyone was sat down, and I was completly rooted to the spot, staring at the shadowhunter before me and Jace.
The man held out the stele for Jace and began chanting words that my brain refused to process. Everything was happening so fast. Too fast.
The burn of the stele brought me back to reality. One on my arm and one over my heart. It was my turn. With wide eyes, I sketched both the runes, my hands doing all the work.
I had no idea what was going on. I was completely frozen, talking when I needed to and drawing when I was told. Finally, everything was finished, except the kiss.
Everyone began applauding.
My heart sunk.
I was a wife.
To a man I may or may not even like.
Jace leaned forward and planted his lips to mine. I just remained frozen; Jace's hands pulled mine to his chest, making sure nobody saw and ensuring that everybody thought I was kissing him back. He ended the kiss and pulled me to his side, holding me protectively around my waist.
Oh Angel Raziel, help me.