A/N Hi Folks :). This is my first dabble into Shadowhunters/Mortal Instruments verse. I loved the series (the first two, anyway) and quite enjoyed the books. What the heck were the writer's thinking with the way they ended series 4 though. It literally makes no sense, starting with the plot that has more holes in it than a sieve and finishing with the ending that had virtually no explanation, and then there was that letter from Clary where the voice over bore no resemblance to the actual words on the letter Jace was reading.
Usual disclaimers apply: if the characters were mine things would have ended very differently.
Afterwards Jace was always hard pressed to explain exactly what had happened, or how he had had the idea in the first place. Most of the time he would just shrug the question off with a bland, "must have been divine inspiration," before changing the subject. Only a select few would ever know the complete story, and of those only two understood the true significance of what he revealed.
It started as so many questionable decisions do with chronic insomnia at 2am on a Thursday morning.
For Jace the last year had been interminable – a never ending slog of misery and increasing desolation. To Jace, it appeared as if everyone else in the New York Institute had moved on: Alec was flying through the ranks of the Clave and had moved to Idris with Magnus, Luke had re-embraced his Shadowhunter life and was happily dating Maryse, and Izzy and Simon were increasingly wrapped up in their own private universe.
Everyone seemed happy and content with their lives – everyone except him, that was. He was fucking miserable. Clary was gone and he resented every second that had passed since he had found that godforsaken letter. What was worse was he was coming to resent those who had been closest to them both for apparently no longer caring about the wonderful girl who had been taken from them for doing the right goddammed thing!
Perhaps if Jace had been able to say goodbye, or even just been allowed to see her he might have coped better. Without anything resembling closure he felt stuck in an endless cycle of misery – one he had thought would be shared by those nearest and dearest to them both. But no, they wanted him to move on; his friends, his family, even his parabatai wanted him to move on – to let Clary go and be happy. As if that even a possibility anymore. Clarry hadn't just been some girl to Jace. She was his everything and being without her felt like there was a gaping hole where his heart should be.
It had started with the well intentioned Maryse, who had ambushed him one afternoon three months after that day to see how he was doing. Only, it wasn't really about that, was it? No, it was about gently prodding him into resuming his normal activities, to start attending the family dinners on Sundays rather than working until exhaustion finally allowed him to rest and moping in his room surrounded by memories of Clary.
He'd smiled at the only mother he had ever really known and said he would try.
And Jace had tried. He had plastered a smile on his face and attended every fucking interminable dinner, but soon that wasn't enough either. The family could see that he wasn't happy, but their omni-present concern and 'helpful' suggestions were exhausting his admittedly limited emotional reserves and making him withdraw further from world of happy-coupledom that was the Lightwoods and their respective partners.
He was happy for his family, of course he was. It was good that they all got their happy-ever-afters, and he wasn't such a miserable arse that he couldn't be happy that they all got to experience the joy of being with the one they loved most. But it also hurt his heart, what was left of it, with a burning pain that never died or decreased no matter how many months dragged past. Of all of the people whose lives she'd touched, only Magnus it seemed still felt Clary's loss. He grieved for his lost friend, the girl he loved like a sister and would sneak away from Idris to help Jace follow any lead, no matter how slight or tenuous, whenever Alec was busy enough that he wouldn't notice his husband's absence.
In some ways, that had been the hardest – cruellest – part of Raziel's punishment. It hadn't been enough for the Angel to take Clary's memories, to wipe from existence all those bonds which tied her to her friends and family – to Jace – no, he had to take her as well. Only the angel knew where Clary was and he had hidden her from supernatural eyes. Magnus had tried, and failed, to find her, Jace had tried to find her using the connection between their blood, to no effect, and even a parabatai search had found nothing. It was like Clary had ceased to exist.
The family had known that Jace was looking for Clary. In the early days after her loss they had understood it, understood his need, even if they disapproved. But as days turned to weeks and weeks into months, slowly Alec, Luke, Izzy, even Simon, gave up and refocussed their energies onto their own pursuits and into their own relationships. They had accepted her sacrifice, grieved and moved on; until only he and Magnus alone remained determined to find her.
After five months of fruitless searching and running himself ragged, Alec had finally stepped in and banned any Shadowhunter from looking for Clary. It had come as a relief to Izzy and Simon, who thought, for some reason, that Jace would actually obey Alec's edict. Even Luke, who saw Clary as his daughter, thought it was for the best. Clary would be safe in the mundane world and she would have what they, and Jace, could never have – a happy normal life. It was time for Jace to let her go.
Except he couldn't.
The months continued to drag past and before he knew it, it had been over seven months since he had last seen the girl he loved.
Then the dreams started.
Dreaming of Clary was nothing new for Jace. Since almost the first moment he had met her she had been a regular fixture in both his dreams and nightmares. When he had been imprisoned by Valentine it had been dreams of Clary that had sustained him through those dark hours, and when Lilith had been trying to control him, it was Clary's death she had shown him over and over to break him. After Clary's disappearance the dreams had changed again to nightmarish visions of Clary. In the worst one Clary was in the arms of another man, married to someone else, bearing another man's child while Jace continued on in this half-life aching for the life that should have been his.
The new dreams were different. For one thing they all started the same way, with Clary screaming his name, begging him to find her.
The dreams always ended the same as well, with him sitting bolt upright in bed, one hand reaching out as if to grasp an invisible hand; his breath coming in sharp pants as his heart thundered in his chest and his runes glowed gold in the dark room. The new dreams were leaving Jace exhausted and increasingly tetchy as time dragged on, but he knew better than to raise them with his family – that would just end up with him back in stress counselling, which just stressed him out more.
By month nine, Izzy was continually trying to set him up on blind dates with any passably attractive woman. Sundays, which had become family dinner day, were now torturous for the golden eyed Shadowhunter, with Izzy parading a new girl in front of him each weekend as if to get him to date again through sheer attrition.
Needless to say, it didn't work. Jace would smile thinly and nod his head at the appropriate times when girl-of-the-day tried to get his attention, but would otherwise spend most of his time with Magnus or Alec, largely ignoring the others, particularly Simon.
That was another change. Jace and Simon weren't on speaking terms anymore and hadn't been for several months. Or rather, Jace wasn't speaking to Simon. Simon, much to the dark amusement of both Alec and Magnus, didn't seem to understand this and trailed after the blond like a yappy terrier desperately trying to get his owner's attention. Simon might not comprehend the situation, but Isabelle did and that caused even more friction at family events and even, on occasion, at work.
If Clary had been there, she would have been the first to knock their heads together and bring the group back together. But then Clary's absence was the reason they had argued in the first place. Shortly after Isabelle had brought the first girl to family night Simon decided to tackle Jace on the issue of his quote "obsession" with Clary.
Why Simon had thought that bringing up this topic of conversation mid practice when both he and Jace were wielding actual swords was something Jace hadn't understood at the time, and still didn't understand two months later. The conversation had ended abruptly with Simon's sword lodged four inches into the wood panelling on the wall and Jace marching out of the room like a particularly pissed off thunderstorm, nosey colleagues scattering left and right as they tried, and failed, to look inconspicuous and like they hadn't been eavesdropping.
If a lie can get round the world before truth has got its shoes on, then gossip can move like superman on speed. Before the day was out, everyone even loosely affiliated with the New York Institute knew that Simon had brought up the C word and the result of that unfortunate altercation.
Jace had thought that such gossip would put off the unattached female Shadowhunter contingent that kept turning up to the Sunday dinners and give him a much-needed break from Izzy's match making hell. Afterall, who in their right minds would want to date a guy who not just wasn't over his previous girlfriend but had an unstable temper and clearly wasn't interested in another relationship.
It didn't. If anything, it seemed to ratchet up his attractiveness in their eyes and Jace now found himself tripping over women, sometimes literally, who were convinced they were the future Mrs Herondale. The old Jace, the pre-Clary Jace, might have revelled in all the female attention and the open buffet of one-night stands that was quite obviously on offer, but he had changed. Clary had changed him and the new Jace felt sick to his stomach at the thought of being with anyone else. He had promised Clary forever and he was damn well going to deliver.
Jace had forgiven the well-intentioned meddling of his family. He had forgiven the way they moved on while we couldn't. He had even forgiven Izzy's tactless attempts at setting him up as if grief had a time scale and love an expiry date. What he couldn't forgive was Simon, Simon for fuck's sake, telling him that letting Clary go and moving on is what Clary would want. That Clary would want him to find someone else, some other than Clary to be with.
Simon's well-meant advice left an acrid taste in Jace's mouth and a burning sensation in the pit of his stomach. How could Simon, of all people, be so wrong about Clary.
Clary would want Jace to find her. She would want him to keep going and not to give up. Just as she had refused to give up on any of the people she loved. Clary never gave up on people, even when it would have been better, safer, for her to have walked away. Simon and Jace were living proof of that. They only had the fragile peace they were enjoying now because of Clary's commitment and perseverance. How could Simon ask him to walk away from her without knowing she was okay, that she was as safe and as happy as everyone kept telling him she was. More to the point, how could everyone keep spewing that line like it was an indisputable fact when no one knew if she was okay because no oneknew where in the angel's name she was.
Until Jace knew for certain, he would keep looking.
All of which led to this moment, with Jace contemplating doing something completely fucking nuts that likely had a low chance of success and fairly high probability of him getting into serious trouble. If it worked at all.
It was something off hand that girl-number-whatever had said at dinner that Sunday night, 12 awfultorturoushorrible months after Clary had vanished, that reminded him of a half-forgotten conversation between Magnus and Clary. Following Valentine's death, the pair had been debating whether it was possible to summon an angel other than by using the Mortal Mirror. At the time Jace had been rather preoccupied with being possessed by the Owl demon and worrying that he was losing his mind so hadn't paid the discussion much mind.
Now, however, it offered the vaguest glimmer of hope. There had been moments, in those early days, when a restless, desperate Jace had considered attempting what Valentine had at Lake Lyn, but there was little to no hope of that plan succeeding. The Clave had guards around the lake now and there was no possible way he would be able to get the other two mortal instruments out of the Kingdom of Bones either. So Jace had reluctantly shelved the idea and instead focussed on trying to track Clary through other means – with no success.
Three sleepless nights spent eyeball deep in arcane books in the library and Jace had an answer. It was possible to summon an Angel, but there were risks involved, not least of which was finding an angelic item and then somehow getting both himself and the thing into a ritual room, the closest of which was in the Kingdom of Bones. Which meant getting past the Silent Brothers.
There was also the uncertainty around how the Clave would react once they found out – and they would find out, of that Jace was certain - and once they did he was quite sure there would be hell to pay. Possibly literally.
Despite what his parabatai might say, Jace did not have the impulse control of a small child. He could plan, and plan with the best of them, when the situation called for it. Jace just preferred action to sitting around discussing pointless minutia and endless maybes and what ifs. This situation, however, definitely needed a plan – and a good one as Jace would only have one shot at this. So for the next week Jace meticulously researched and prepared as he waited for the right time.
All of which led to this moment. It was 2AM on an otherwise unremarkable Thursday morning and Jace Herondale was stood inside the carefully chosen ritual room, a vial of Clary's blood in his hand, preparing to do the unthinkable and summon the angel Raziel.
A burst of golden light that left him blinking rapidly and Jace was no longer alone.
There before the Shadowhunter, resting in the centre of the rune circle was an angel, their large white wings fluttering gently in a celestial breeze only they felt.
"Hail and well met, Jace Herondale," the angel's voice reverberated around Jace's head, making it ring.
Having only met one angel – in rather extreme and unusual circumstances – Jace wasn't quite sure what he expected the experience would be like, but whatever he had thought, this wasn't it.
For one thing, the angel didn't speak as such, rather thoughts appeared in Jace's head in an inhumanly impassive tone, which was decidedly off putting. For another, this was not the angel he had been trying to summon. This was not Raziel. This angel was female and looked like an oversized porcelain doll that someone had glued wings on to. The angel also knew his name…
Later, after several large drinks, Jace would tell Alex that it was shock which had resulted in him blurting out "you're not Raziel!" inarticulately to the bemused seraph in front of him.
"I am Sariel, angel of compassion. For what reason do you call me, Shadowhunter?"
Jace fought the urge to blush in embarrassment at his blunder – he sounded like Simon, for fuck's sake. Still, Jace was there for a purpose and he would be damned if he fell at the last post, so he squared his shoulders and looked directly into Sariel's emotionless eyes.
"I want to petition for the restoration and reinstatement of Clarissa Morgenstern as a Shadowhunter."
10 minutes later and Jace was rapidly coming to the conclusion that this may not have been his brightest idea. He'd thought while planning for this moment that getting an angel to answer his summons would be the hardest part. Jace was wrong, that was surprisingly easy. Getting the angel to talk, however… now that was proving to be a challenge.
So far they hadn't even got beyond Clary's name. Three fruitless repetitions of the same discussion later and the answer hit Jace with all the subtlety of crow bar to the face.
"Fuck!" Jace exclaimed, one hand reaching to tug at his hair as half formed thoughts whirled around his min.
"The Silent Brothers always called her Clarissa Fairchild. I thought that was just them using her mother's name because that's the name she preferred, but it wasn't that, was it?"
The more Jace thought about it the more things clicked into place, like a puzzle he hadn't realised needed solving, but now he did he couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before. There had always been troubling inconsistencies and oddities around Clary but he'd become so used to that they barely registered anymore.
Right from the start, when Clary didn't know anything about her real family, Brother Jeremiah called her Fairchild. "They never said she was a Morgenstern. We all just assumed she was because of Joselyn."
The angel bowed her head slightly in an elegant nod that screamed 'finally, he gets it'. "The Silent Ones knew who she was the moment she first entered the kingdom of bones to seek their guidance. She is as she has ever been, the daughter of Jocelyn Fairchild and Ithuriel, our brother."
Jace stood silent as he listened to the angel before him explain the convoluted technicalities which had led to the impossible situation they now found themselves in. Having seen his success with using demon blood in 'improving' little Jonathon Morgenstern's abilities, Valentine had come up with an even more audacious plan. One that involved kidnapping an angel.
Using the same ritual as Jace – and, oh, wasn't that a fucking wonderful irony – Valentine had summoned and then captured the angel Ithuriel using an adapted ritual circle and special magical chains. Valentine had then proceeded to use his captive angel as an unwilling blood bank to pep up the morning smoothies that Celine and Joselyn both enjoyed.
This was the point at which things got interesting, genetically speaking. Jace was older than Clary by seven months, months that made all the difference according to Sariel. By the time Valentine had started using the angel blood Celine was already six months pregnant with Jace. The pure angelic blood gave baby Jace a few enhancements on the usual Shadowhunter abilities and a stronger connection to runes than those with angelic blood usually enjoyed.
Clary, on the other hand, had been conceived after Valentine had started doctoring Joselyn's diet. Somehow – and this was a point which would be debated by the clave historians, theologians and medics for years – when Clary was conceived it was Ithuriel rather than Valentine who provided the second half of her DNA. The end result was that Clary didn't' just have more angelic blood than the average Shadowhunter, she was biologically half angel – which explained rather a lot about both Clary, her unusual powers and her odd relationship with Ithuriel.
It also explained why, although both of them had his angelic blood, only Clary had been able to communicate with Ithuriel. It also explained why Ithuriel had been so willing to break the rules around non-interference to give her guidance and help. He was protecting his daughter, his only biological child.
What it didn't explain was why Clary had been punished for using her powers to kill Jonathon when in doing so she had not only saved the world (again) but in doing so had saved the angels a monumental headache.
Alec had often wondered where the line was between adrenalin junkie and someone with suicidal tendencies. All Shadowhunter's liked high octane, adrenaline fuelled fights. It was pretty much genetically wired into them. It had to be, otherwise their ancestors would have given up saving the world from demons years ago as a bad lot and become cabbage farmers, or something equally dreary but likely to see them live to a good age. But in the case of his parabatai it wasn't always clear whether Jace dived in where angel's feared to tread (pun intended) because he was that confident in his ability to get himself out of the trouble he had just landed in or because he genuinely didn't give a shit what happened so long as he got what he wanted.
Had Alec been in the ritual room that morning a third option would have been apparent – that sometimes Jace just didn't think things through.
Anger flooded through the blonde Shadowhunter like a tsunami. How dare they. How dare the Raziel punish Clary for using a power that was hers by right and which was never explained to her. How dare Raziel punish them for Clary trying to do the right thing. The Clave had broken rules left, right and centre, but had any of them been punished for following Valentine and nearly bringing about Armageddon? No, they hadn't. For years without count Shadowhunters had used to mortal items as sticks to beat the magical community and keep them under Shadowhunter control. Had the angels involved themselves with that? No, they hadn't. Which is what he told Sariel, voice harsh with restrained fury.
Sariel's wings flapped in agitation, "we are not gods, Jonathon Herondale. Angels are not infallible, and we do make mistakes. It was one such mistake which led to Ithuriel's capture. Raziel's intemperate decision was another."
Seeing Jace about to interrupt, Sariel sighed. "Our brother acted to protect Clary. By removing her memories, her Shadowhunter and angelic abilities would again be dormant and she would once more be hidden within the mundane world. It was not a perfect solution, but Raziel hoped she would live a happy, normal mundane life, safe from the dangers of the shadow world and those who would seek to either use her or destroy her."
A single tear tracked down Sariel's impassive features. "Alas, it was not to be. Our poor sister has but a half-life, her soul is crying out for its mate and in her pain she has started to break through Raziel's block. She is no longer protected in the mundane world and her suffering is great."
"Okay," Jace began slowly, desperately trying to keep the tenuous hold he had on his temper. "I can see that Raziel was trying to protect Clary, but why in the angel's name did he say it was a punishment? If we'd known we could have protect her – ICould Have Protected Her!"
"It was not malice which drove our brother, but love of the purest kind," the angel refuted sharply. The more our sister used the angelic gifts inherited from Ithuriel the more her aura changed to show her true parentage – and it was being noticed. When Clary took her brother's life she unwittingly revealed her heavenly form, her true form. In doing so she saved her brother's soul, as Ithuriel had long intended, but the cost was high. In that moment she shone like a beacon for all of the shadow world to see – and she was seen. How long do you think it would have been before questions were asked and Demons, Warlocks and Shadowhunters alike started to search for her."
Jace opened his mouth to defend his fellow Shadowhunters only to be shocked back into silence as Sariel continued.
"But it was not just this event which posed a danger to our sister and forced Raziel to act. Asmodeus and the other Princes of Hell were aware of an angelic presence on earth. Only Ithuriel's continual presence in your realm kept Clary's identity hidden. So long as he was near, our brother's divinity and blood connection could anchor our sister and shield those who sought to find her."
"The danger increased with every rune our sister created, more so once the demon Lillith killed our brother, and so we tried to warn her, to deter her from the path she walked. In this we failed, for Clary is truly Ithuriel's child and to sacrifice herself is her nature," Sariel's voice was mournful and full of anguish.
"And so we were forced to take action to protect our sister's secret. As Raziel created your kin, it was to him the responsibility fell. Clary was in danger from both demons and his descendants alike, and so Raziel acted, as he thought Ithuriel would wish. Better for all that it seemed like a punishment. Safer for our sister that those watching believed that she was gifted, not born, with her angelic talents and that they had been taken away by us for disobedience."
"Even so, we could have protected her, the Shadowhunter's could have protected her," Jace argued.
"Tell me this, Shadowhunter, who watches the watchmen. The Clave, held so dear by you and you kin, has long had factions who have desired greater power than that with which they were bestowed. Do you think Valentine was alone in his desires? There are many who yearn for angelic gifts who would covet the power Clary has running through her veins – and who will not stop if they believe they can acquire it."
"The Clave has cleaned house," Jace protested - more out of determined optimism than actual confidence - "all of the Circle members have been rooted out and punished. The Clave has changed, it's become better, more open, more inclusive. Are you saying they're still a danger to Clary."
The angel shook her beautiful head, her gaze pitying as she watched the blond Shadowhunter before her.
"The time may yet come where allegiances need to be declared, for no man can fully serve two masters. My question to you, Jonathon Christopher Herondale, last scion of the Herondale line, is to whom will you give your loyalty if that day arrives – to the Clave you have sworn to obey or to the one you profess to love?
"Fuck!" Jace exclaimed, looking directly into Sariel's eye, "There's no question. To Clary. My loyalty, my love and my life are hers, always and forever." As Jace finished speaking he felt a tingling heat racing down his spine, not unlike when he had held the soul sword, as all his runes lit up and glowed a brilliant gold.
"So be it," the angel intoned, "God's sworn oath, spoken, acknowledged, accepted," a triumphant smile flitting across her usually impassive face so fast Jace would have missed it if not for the fact his eyes were still locked to hers.
"Time is short, Shadowhunter, and the hour grows late. Your presence will soon be missed. Raziel's protection is weakening and it will not be long before our sister is once again visible to the eyes of the shadow world."
"I will not fail her," Jace avowed, voice fierce and determined. "Do you know where she is?"
The angel spread her wings to leave.
Sariel smiled softly at the young man before her, so young yet in an old universe for all that he had seen and endured. He had a long and difficult road ahead of him and she had bent the rules around non-interference almost to breaking already by answering his summons and telling him as much as she had, but she could give him one final hint.
"I have told you all I can, Jonathon Herondale. I can only point you toward the path, it is up to you to walk it. But remember this, mortal - for all creature's power is in the blood and blood is power. Clarissa was born with her powers to protect the world. You were given yours to protect her. Should you fail in your quest, our sister will be in greater danger than ever and will risk losing her very soul. But if you succeed you will have proved yourself worthy of her love, and worthy of being our heir's mate."
In a blinding miasma of golden light, Sariel disappeared.
Blinking furiously as black spots danced in his vision, Jace looked around the now empty ritual room, shoulders drooping slightly as it became clear that the angel was well and truly gone.
Cursing under his breath about cryptic celestial beings as he gathered his things together, Jace's gaze swept over the room one last time before he turned to leave. With a frown he spotted a flash of colour where the angel had previously been standing. Crouching outside the ritual circle, Jace reached over and carefully tugged the piece of paper towards him.
It was a small piece of glossy blue A5 card that had no place in this room and definitely hadn't been there when Jace had first entered.
Eyes dancing over the university art exhibition flyer clutched securely in his hand, Jace felt the first real smile in a year spread over his face.
It was time to go find Clary.