Me: Thank you for reviewing! It means so much!
I would like to give a quick note in regards to the story of Stephen's and Cèline's deaths. In the library of head cannons that is my mind, I envision them happening a little differently and Jace discovering this. So if you notice any inconsistencies, that is why. That's all.
Disclaimer: I own NOTHING.
Pokemon67 is sorry for any and all grammar errors.
…
Chapter 3: City of Hope
Footsteps echoed in the hall. Jace closed his eyes as he listened, knowing they were walking down the corridor and opening the door to Clary's cell. He could hear her pleading, her shouting and cursing and screaming at them to back off. But they didn't listen.
Jace's heart raced as Clary's voice took on another note, one of panic. Her cries became louder and louder and the fairies were shouting at each other now too. More fairies were running down the hallway to help. Jace sprung to his feet, banging on the door and demanding to know what was going on.
The chaos on the other side continued, as did Clary's screams. What were they doing to her? What was happening?
Jace fell against the door in exhaustion. He opened and closed his hand, realizing dully he had cut it on the wall. He rubbed it, letting the pain flood his senses and bring him clarity.
Clary was in trouble. His yelling wasn't helping, nor was the pounding of his heart. Jace closed his eyes, trying to get a grip. Is this how his father felt, hearing his mother as Valentine cut her open? He had to stop this. He couldn't let Clary and him meet an end like his parents. He couldn't let his child end up like him.
He moved to the center of his cell. He stared at the door. It was not going to end like this.
The sound of his comb falling to the floor snapped Jace back to reality. He picked it up and put it back before griping the sink basin to steady himself. He blinked his memory away, swallowing his fear. The terror, breaking out and seeing Clary and thinking he was too late…
Shut up.
Jace turned the faucet on, splashing cold water on himself. He grabbed a hand towel to dry his face, but paused as he caught a glimpse of his reflection. He frowned.
It had been a month since Naranth. A month since he and Clary had returned home. The cuts on his face had finally healed, but he was still pale and hadn't regained all the weight he had lost. But that was more from the worry and nightmares than a lack of food.
I should look older, Jace thought idly. He wasn't sure how long he and Clary had been gone. It had been 6 months in the upper world. But how long were they in the cells? How long fleeing through the fairy realms before hiding in Naranth?
How old was she when they took her away? How old is she now?
Jace threw his towel across the room, where it of course landed on the floor instead of the hamper. He pulled at his hair, turning away from the mirror. This wasn't helping. He couldn't do this.
But he had to. He had to get through another day. Another day of waiting, of searching, and hoping.
Another day without her.
…
Clary sat dejectedly on a crate. The dusty air and bare tables told the entire story of the warehouse. If it had been at one time a place for the creatures of the Underworld, it had long been abandoned.
Simon kicked another create with his foot. It send a cloud of dust in the air. ''Nothing,'' he coughed. He looked at her, and Clary could see the pity in his face. ''Maybe-''
''I have to call Jace,'' Clary cut him off blandly. She didn't want to hear his worry or pity. What she wanted to do was scream and cry and throw a fit, but strangely enough she had no energy for it. How long are we going to have to look? How long does she have?
Clary pulled out her phone, ignoring the sound of Simon sheepishly scraping his boot against the floor. She called Jace. The phone barely rang once before he answered. ''Yeah?''
''Nothing.'' Clary reminded herself to breath and keep the tears out of her voice. ''Nothing here.''
''Okay.'' She could sense his own disappointment. ''We're almost at the other location. Are you heading back to the Institute?''
''Yeah.
''See you there.''
''Yeah.'' He hung up then, and Clary felt this horrible aching. She wondered if she would see him again.
Shut up. She scolded herself. Now was not the time for morbid thoughts. She got to her feet with a sigh. ''You ready?''
Simon nodded. They made their way back out of the warehouse, the silence between them suffocating. Clary knew it was her fault, that Simon was just trying to give her space and anything else she seemed to hint at in her self-absorbed state. Clary wished she did know what she wanted. She wished she wasn't so scattered and lost and hurt.
I'm sorry, she thought to Simon, wishing she had a mind link with him as she did with Jonathan. I'm sorry I suck right now. I'm sorry. She wished she had the strength to say that aloud. I'll do better, I promise.
…
Dust, dust, and more dust. Jace wished he had a lighter. It would be nice to burn the place down.
The warehouse he and Isabelle and Alec had gone to was just as deserted as the one Clary and Simon had gone to. It was annoying, inconvenient, and made Jace very, very angry. A fire rune would do the trick.
''What?'' Alec asked.
Jace realized he must've mumbled the sentiment aloud. ''Nothing.''
He walked along the balcony, passing Isabelle as she peered over the edge to where they had entered. It wrapped all the way around. There were several rooms, all open archways and all as dusty and dirty as the next.
Jace circled back to one of the further rooms. He glanced around again. He was prepared to angrily walk out, when something inside of him tightened. You're not thinking.
He paused, forcing his anger down and making himself stop. The room was dusty, with several boxes and crates stacked along the walls. Jace studied the room. What's wrong here?
He looked in the room, and then backed up and looked at the entire hallway. He studied the archways alone the entire wall. They were all evenly spaced. Almost.
The room he had been in was slightly narrower then the others. The other archways started sooner. Wishful thinking?
Jace entered the room again. He closed his eyes, ignoring the surroundings. He wasn't going to know if the dimensions were off without a measuring tape, so it wasn't important. If I were going to hide someone, where would I do it?
A secret room, he answered his question. Where?
''What are you doing?'' Alec's voice broke his thoughts. Jace opened his eyes and clapped his hands.
''Moving some boxes.''
''Great,'' Isabelle said. ''I rock at Boxel.''
Jace vaguely remembered that was a video game, but he ignored the comment and the three of them set to work, moving the crates and boxes away from the walls and searching.
Jace and Isabelle looked up as Alec kicked the left wall he was near. ''Here,'' he said. He kicked it again. ''This wall's hollow.''
They came over. They worked their way down the wall moving boxes until they saw a change in the paint color. Hurriedly, they moved more boxes and discovered a door.
Jace pushed against it and it gave way, opening until it was blocked by the opposing wall. ''Narrow,'' Isabelle frowned, looking at the space that was probably less than three feet wide.
''Well,'' Jace said, brushing some dust away from his face. ''No one here is claustrophobic, right?''
He led the way into the space. It went down between the two rooms, and then a sharp left turn made them go up a thin flight of stairs. While there was dust on the floor, there were no cobwebs in front of them. A clear sign that someone had recently been here.
There was another door in front of them. Jace tried it but it wouldn't budge. He pushed against it, not caring how much noise it made. ''Jace,'' Isabelle warned, but he didn't listen.
Finally the door gave way. It creaked on it's hinges. Light from Alec's witch stone behind him illuminated the room faintly. More crates, all covered with dust and cobwebs. On the floor lay a cloth, cinched up with string. Jace's vision tunneled at the sight of it.
''She should have a toy.''
''You can't make a toy out of a cloth and a string.''
''He doubts me, Moriah.'' Clary folded the cloth into a square on her lap. ''Can you believe it? He doubt's my artistic talent.''
''Artistic talent when you draw. As the person who taught you knots, I can say with accuracy you are not meant for any other handicrafts.''
''Wow.'' Clary wrapped the string around the cloth. ''If I weren't using both my hands here, I would throw something at you.'' She finished a knot and held up her work. ''There! It's not Build-A-Bear, but it's something.''
''Huh. Actually not bad.''
''Wow, almost an apology.''
''It's ugly as hell.''
''No, we went to Hell, remember? Surely this is not as bad.'' She bent the toy's ear at him, making it look at though it agreed.
There it was, at his feet. A brown, tied with sting toy. A bunny.
Jace bent down and picked it up. He could hear his siblings talking to him, but their voices were drowned out by his thoughts. She's here. She has to be here. ''Moriah?'' he called out.
''Jace.'' Alec sounded sorrowful as he took in the room. ''Jace, there's no one here.''
Shut up. ''Moriah!'' He shouted again, louder. ''Moriah, it's me.'' You have perfect memory. You know who I am. ''C'mon, kid. If there was ever a time for your first words it's now.''
He waited, his ears pricking for any sound. But the room was silent.
Jace closed his eyes tight, reminding himself to breath. He felt Alec place a hesitant hand on his shoulder. ''Just because she's not here doesn't mean she's not anywhere.''
Jace gave a stiff nod. He opened his eyes and glared at the room, anger coursing through him. She had been here. He could feel it. I will find you, Moriah. I promise. I'm coming for you.
He clenched the toy in his fists. He turned around, giving his siblings a stiff nod. They went back to the doorway.
Creak.
The floorboards settled behind them, causing them all to snap back around to look. Alec and Isabelle couldn't contain their gasps. Jace could feel his heart stop. Standing in front of them was someone who had not been there a moment before. How she managed to avoid being sensed by three Shadowhunter's, Jace didn't know. Her blonde hair was dirty and matted, and a brown dress that looked barley a step above a sack hung off her thin body. Her pale face illuminated her black eyes, and they bore into Jace with an indescribable intensity. She was older than she should've been- a fairy time world thing- but Jace knew who she was even without seeing her eyes. ''Moriah?''
She cocked her head to the side as he approached slowly. He got to his knees in front of her, outstretching a hand and touching her face. She was cold to the touch. He traced a finger gently down her cheek, following the path of a cut that ran down her ear to her chin. ''Hey,'' he said softly. ''You remember me?'' She continued to stare at him.
''Jace,'' Alec began, but stopped. Without looking at them, Jace knew Alec and Isabelle both were feeling as he himself should've felt; afraid, revolted at this not human child. But all he was focused on was the relief in seeing her here, standing in front of him.
Jace lowered his hand. ''We have to go now,'' he told Moriah. She made a whine in her throat. ''C'mon. You want to leave? Let's leave.'' He took her hand, pulling her close to him. She made another sound in her throat and without further hesitation clasped her cold hands around his neck. Jace stood, pressing a kiss to her cheek. ''I got you. You're okay.''
He pulled away enough to look at her again. She grabbed the toy from him. Her gaze met his and Jace couldn't resist a smile. He found her. He found his daughter. ''Oh, my Moriah.''
Sounds from the hallway brought Jace back to his surroundings. Isabelle and Alec looked away from him to glance out the door. ''Someone's back,'' Isabelle announced grimly. She looked at Jace. ''They might…''
She trailed off, but Jace understood. In all probability, someone came back for Moriah.
Alec took a shuddering breath. ''We need to-''
''Absolutely,'' Jace cut him off. He adjusted Moriah to be on his hip, drawing his blade with his free hand. His smile was wide on his face. ''We need to welcome them.''
Jace brushed past his siblings, vaguely registering their exchanged looks of worry. He figured they were a little put off by his response, but if they thought he was going to pass up the opportunity to kill whoever had dared to lay a hand on his little girl…
He led the way back through the narrow hallway and out of the store room. He went to the balcony and glanced over the edge, smirking even wider with sick pleasure at the sight of a too familiar looking fairy. How perfect.
Renage looked up with her cold, blue eyes, her same shade of hair falling behind her. Jace paused only to place Moriah on her feet next to him before looking back and waving with his blade. ''Fancy meeting you here.''
Renage showed her pointy teeth, her glare exactly the same as it had been on the roof tops in Naranth. ''You have my property,'' she said simply. ''Return it and you and your friends may leave alive.''
'' 'Your property' ?'' Jace gave a cold scoff to try and control the rage building in him. '' 'It'? Let me make myself terribly clear here, Renage: try and touch anyone in my family again, I will cut you into little pieces and feed you to werewolves.''
''And do your friends share this sentiment?'' Renage cast her glance past Jace, and Jace realized Alec and Isabelle were behind him again. ''Surely they sense how…different your child is.''
Jace clenched his fists and looked behind him. But both his siblings looked angry. ''She's not yours,'' Alec spat at Renage.
Isabelle adjusted her grip on her whip. ''You really don't want to fight us here.''
Jace turned back in triumph to Renage. He was pleased to see her waver ever so slightly. ''That thing is not something any Shadowhunter would want to take home,'' she warned. ''I guarantee you.''
''Don't give a crap.'' Jace held up his sword. ''Now, unless I'm terribly mistaken, I believe I have some repayment for you on behalf of Clary.''
Renage drew a knife. ''If you insist.''
''Oh, I do.''
A sick smile of Renage's own spread across her face. She whistled, and soon her companions came out of nowhere, each with weapons.
''We can't fight these all off,'' Alec warned. Jace ignored him. He turned around and bent to look at Moriah.
''That room we came out of? The hall? Go back to it. Go back to it and close the door and don't come out until I say so.'' She blinked at him for a second before scurrying off.
''Jace, you can't-'' Isabelle began, watching Moriah go. But they didn't have time to argue. The fairies were coming up the stairs, and Jace ran to meet them.
Renage was leading them, and it was her he clashed with first. ''I told you if she was gone, I would kill you and all your kind,'' he reminded her as they pushed against each other. Their blades made a scraping sound as Renage tried to make him lose his grip. ''I intend to keep my word, starting with you.''
Renage smirked. ''My my, how devilish. Like father like daughter.'' Her smile faded as Jace's blade collided with her's with more force than she expected. He let out a laugh.
''Oh, you have no idea.''
…
Simon felt knots in his stomach as he watched Clary alternate between pacing and sitting down in weariness. They should have all been back hours ago. Were they alright? Did they find something? Did someone find them?
Clary sat heavily on the window seat again, her fingers clenched so tightly Simon could see them turn white. He wanted to offer something comforting, but the words got lost on his tongue. Clary turned to the window, looking longingly out. Then her eyes grew wide and she sprang up. ''They're back.''
''Really?'' Simon questioned, darting over.
''Yes!'' Clary looked to him and back out, pointing at the three figures approaching. ''They-''
She stopped, frozen as she stared out the window. ''Clary?'' Simon said in worry. She continued to stare. He followed her gaze. He frowned, squinting at the small figures far below them. ''What is Jace holding?''
Clary turned away and ran past Simon, darting out of the library. ''Clary!'' Simon called, going after her. He caught up to her at the elevator, barely making it inside before the door shut. ''What is it?''
Clary was shaking her head. Her face was totally devoid of color, and she kept opening and close her mouth as though trying to speak. ''Clary!''
She finally focused on him. ''It can't be,'' she said, sounding more as though she were speaking more to herself rather than Simon. ''But- but maybe…?''
Simon berated her for answers, but she acted as though she didn't hear. The second the elevator opened Clary was out, running down between the church pews to the doors. She got halfway there before the doors opened and Jace, Alec, and Isabelle entered. Without the distance between them, Simon could see what Jace was holding. Or really, who.
Clary froze in her steps. She looked at Jace, a hand clamped over her mouth. ''Is that…?''
Simon watched as Jace gave a nod. Clary let out a choked cry as Jace came closer. A little girl was in his arms. She was small, looking barley two, and Simon knew she was even younger than that in human time. She was dirty with matted blonde hair and a bloody scratch on her face. But it was her eyes that made Simon go cold in his heart. They were pure, pure black.
Clary however, didn't seem to notice. She looked as though she couldn't be happier. She outstretched her arms to the girl, who made a whine as she leaned into Clary's embrace willingly. Clary stroked her hair and coughed on her tears and laughter. ''Hey, little girl. Oh, my baby. My baby girl.''
The girl rested her chin on Clary's shoulder, and for split second she was staring directly at Simon. Her eyes were like tunnels. Dark, abandoned tunnels that led nowhere and you never got out of. He couldn't stop staring at her. And then the girl buried her face in Clary's neck. Simon shivered just watching.
Clary just continued to laugh and cry. Her expression couldn't be misinterpreted. Clary was overjoyed. Her daughter was found. Her daughter was home. Her demon blood daughter.
….
Wearily, Isabelle traipsed to Jace's room, looking around for Clary. Jace and Alec were getting patched up in the hospital wing, and Maryse and Simon were busy calling Jocelyn and Luke. Isabelle was supposed to find Clary, who had slipped away with her daughter somewhere.
Her daughter. It was strange to think about. Even though she knew Jace and Clary had a baby, Isabelle had a hard time believing the child was actually here. Especially since she was…well, what she was.
Not human? Demon? Devil? Do I really think that? Is that thing safe? Isabelle brushed her thoughts aside and opened Jace's bedroom door. According to Max, he had seen Clary go in here.
The bedroom was empty, but the bathroom door was open, and a voice was speaking on the other side. Isabelle walked over and stood in the doorway.
''There we go,'' Clary said softly. ''That's better, right?''
Clary was at the counter with the child perched on top. The girl was clean, her face scrubbed and her clothes changed from that brown rag to one of Clary's own t-shirts. Her yellow hair was now wet and smooth, hanging down her back.
Clary ran a hand through the little girl's hair, placing her hairbrush down. ''The magic half a bottle of conditioner can do, hmm?'' She commented, peering over the girl's head to look at her reflection in the mirror. The child didn't reply, but kept her black eyes on the glass. She leaned forward on her knees to touch Clary's reflection. Isabelle had to repress a shiver. Those eyes….
She cleared her throat, announcing her presence. Both Clary and the child snapped their heads to look at her. ''Sorry,'' Isabelle offered. ''But Clary, I have to tell you something.''
''How's Jace?'' Clary asked immediately. She looked away for a moment to look at her daughter, who had turned away from the mirror and was whining. Isabelle pinched herself as Clary picked her up without hesitation. She couldn't imagine letting that thing touch her.
''He's fine,'' Isabelle said. ''He's just resting, getting patched up.'' Clary nodded in relief, walking past Isabelle out of the bathroom. She sat down on the bed, positioning the girl on her lap. ''Clary, both my mom and your's want to talk to you.''
''About what?'' Clary didn't meet her eyes, but just stroked her little girl's arm.
Isabelle couldn't repress a sigh. ''What do you think?''
It came out harsher than she meant. For a moment, she was afraid she'd angered Clary. But Clary just looked close to tears. She continued to look at the child. ''They're going to take her away, aren't they?''
Something in Isabelle's heart broke. ''That's what they want,'' Clary went on, turning to Isabelle. ''To take her away. Because she's different. Because you can't look at her without feeling like you're on a hunt.''
Isabelle became uncomfortably aware of her own posture. She sighed again, but this time in weariness. ''I don't know,'' she answered honestly.
''I can't lose her.'' Clary's eyes bored into Isabelle. ''She's mine and I won't lose her again. I just won't.''
There was something unspoken hanging in the air, almost a threat. Isabelle understood it perfectly: If you try to take her, I will leave. I will disappear with her and you will never see me again.
Isabelle felt like she had bugs crawling on her skin. Nevertheless, she sat down next to Clary on the bed. ''Leave her with me while you go talk to them,'' she said softly.
The surprise and mistrust in Clary's eyes hurt Isabelle. ''You don't-''
''Yes.'' Isabelle stubbornly place her hand next to Clary's and consequently, next to the child's. ''I do. Because that's what family does.''
…
Clary walked down the hallway, though really she felt as though she could skip. Happiness, a happiness she hadn't felt in a long time coursed through her. She's back. She's safe. She's back. She's safe.
It was hard leaving Moriah with Isabelle even though she wouldn't be gone long. Especially since though Isabelle offered, Clary could sense her reluctance and worry. Some of Clary's happiness faded as a thought occurred to her. If even Isabelle is worried, what will the Clave think?
Clary shoved the thought aside. She didn't care. Screw the Clave and anyone who thought anything about Moriah. She was back and safe and that was all that mattered.
She reached the library door. She entered the room without preamble, opening her mouth to greet her mother and Maryse, already there. The greeting died on her lips as she realized she just walked into the middle of a conversation. A conversation that abruptly stopped when they saw her.
Clary tilted her head at them. ''Hi,'' she finally greeted.
''Hi, sweetheart,'' Jocelyn said. Clary noticed her posture- standing straight, arms crossed, and she was bitting the inside of her cheek. Clary felt nervous.
Maryse turned to look at her. ''How's your daughter?''
Clary couldn't help her smile. ''She's good,'' she said, pleased Maryse had asked. Some of her nervousness faded. ''Izzy's with her.''
Maryse nodded. ''Clarissa, you understand we have to inform the Clave that she was found.''
Clary bit her lip. ''Yeah, I figured. Should I…?''
Maryse shook her head. ''Robert and I will take care of it.''
''Thank you.''
''I'm afraid she'll have to stay here as well.''
''That's fine. I'll stay too.''
''Maryse, would you give Clary and I a moment?'' Jocelyn said suddenly. Clary watched as Maryse gave Jocelyn a look.
''I don't think-''
''I want a moment with my daughter.'' Clary's skin crawled at Jocelyn's tone. ''Please?''
Maryse's eyes flashed like Isabelle's flashed whenever she was annoyed. She withdrew from the room.
Clary watched her go, her anxiety increasing from her comment to Jocelyn. She turned back to her mother, trying to keep her voice normal. ''Is something wrong, mom?''
Jocelyn looked grim. ''I think we should go home, Clary.''
''Go home?'' Clary shook her head. ''You heard Maryse. Moriah has to stay here.''
''Moriah? Is that her name?''
Clary nodded. ''Come meet her, mom. She's- she's so pretty.'' Clary laughed. ''God, listen to me. But wait until you see her. I mean, her hair and her-''
''Eyes.''
Clary blinked. ''What?''
''Her eyes?'' Jocelyn repeated. ''Her eyes are black, aren't they? Not Jonathan's almost mistaken for brown eyes, but pure black eyes.''
''How- how could you know that?''
''Maryse was telling me.'' Jocelyn shook her head. ''Clary, sweetheart, please, you have to think about this.''
There was ringing in Clary's ears, almost as if time itself slowed down as she processed what it was her mother was saying to her. ''Mom, don't- don't do this.''
''Clary.'' Jocelyn's tone was pleading. ''From the Clave's prospective, the child-''
''Moriah.''
''-Is a risk. They won't let you and Jace-''
''Are you siding with them?'' Clary asked in disbelief.
''They are not going to back off. They are going to be worried about what she could grow up to be.''
''They have no reason to!''
''Really? Jonathan isn't a reason?''
Clary couldn't keep her mouth from hanging open. ''Jonathan was what he was because of Valentine! Because he was alone!''
Jocelyn shook her head. ''Clary, you can't excuse-''
''I'm not excusing anything! If you'd grown up in total isolation, the only person you saw constantly left you to take care of his other son, and kept telling you you were a demon, the devil himself, you'd probably try and burn the world down too!''
Jocelyn threw her hands up. ''Clary-''
''Besides, he's not like that anymore!''
'Because he doesn't have demon blood!''
''Moriah does, therefore she's going to be evil? My daughter is inherently evil? Is that what you are saying?''
''She's not your daughter your daughter is dead!'' Jocelyn screamed. ''God, Clary, don't you think I've been here before? You really want to make the same mistakes I did?''
Clary felt her heart in her throat. No matter how long she lived, she would never forget this moment. The moment her mother actually screamed with all the sincerity in the world, to her face, that Moriah wasn't her daughter. That she was a monster. She never thought her mother would side with the Clave against her.
She wanted to respond to Jocelyn. She wanted to question what mistakes she was talking about, considering she left Jonathan behind. She wanted to demand to know what exactly Jocelyn thought she should do. Leave Moriah here? Let the Clave come and take her away? Wash her hands of her? Before the cells of the Fairy Realm, Clary might've done that. But she had bigger priorities than her mother's opinions. One, really, who was with Isabelle and waiting for her. ''Screw you.''
It was barely audible, but judging by the expression on Jocelyn's face, she heard it. Clary turned around and went to the door. She supposed her mother was calling her back, but she couldn't hear over the pounding in her ears.
She's not your daughter your daughter is dead!
Clary only made it several steps down the hall before having to stop and lean against the wall. She put a hand to her throat. Her chest felt tight. She couldn't breath. She's not on my side. My mom is not on my side. She doesn't care.
Heels clicking on tile made Clary realize someone else was in the hallway. Maryse paused in surprise at the sight of her. Her expression changed from surprise to sorrow as she looked at Clary. Clary realized that was why she hadn't wanted to leave the room. That was what their conversation was about before she got to the library. Are you against us too?
Clary knew that wasn't the case as Maryse crouched in front of her, a hand on her shoulder. ''You'll stay here for a while, okay?'' she said. Clary nodded, unable to keep back a sob.
''She's not evil. She's not. She's beautiful and sweet and good-''
''I know.'' Maryse wrapped her arms around her, and Clary buried her face in her shoulder. ''I know she is. I know.''
…
Simon scratched the back of his head, hesitating outside Jace's door. He knew Clary was inside. Jace and Alec were still in the hospital wing, no doubt now getting lectured by one of their parents or Isabelle about not charging a small army of fairies.
Simon had heard earlier the yelling that had happened in the library. All he knew was what Isabelle said upon leaving Clary and the child. ''Jocelyn is an asshole.''
Simon had been surprised. He knew Jocelyn. She was strict and at times overprotective of Clary, but what could she have said?
''Judging by Clary's face, asshole-ish things,'' was Isabelle's insight.
Now it was late. After the long, emotion filled day, Simon was ready to collapse into bed. But he needed to check on Clary. He only hoped he was doing the right thing and that she wouldn't push him away.
Simon opened the door and entered. He saw Clary sitting cross legged on the bed, staring down at her lap. The little girl- her little girl- was asleep there, nestled in her mother's embrace. Though her hair was Jace's, there was something about her peaceful face and small body that made her look exactly like Clary. It was almost enough to make Simon forget about the black eyes behind her sleeping eyelids.
Clary looked up as Simon approached. He sat down next to her. ''You okay?'' he asked.
''Yeah.''
''Is she?''
Clary turned back to her child. Simon noticed how soft her eyes were. ''Yeah, she's good.''
Simon followed her gaze. The child's hands were balled into fists, one holding onto a bit of fabric of Clary's shirt. Months apart and yet she knew Clary was her mother. That memory thing must've been correct. ''Does she have a name?''
Clary brushed some hair away from the girl's face. ''Moriah. Moriah Cèline Herondale.''
''Quite a mouthful.'' Clary smirked. ''Moriah Cèline,'' Simon repeated contemplatively. ''Good names.''
''Jace picked them.''
''Any reason why?''
''Cèline was his mother's name.''
Simon remembered the story. Cèline, 19 years old when she was killed by Valentine and Hodge, cut open so Valentine could have his experiment, Jace. ''And Moriah?''
''It's biblical.'' Clary continued to stroked Moriah's hair. ''It's the name of the mountain where Abraham was prepared to sacrifice Isaac.''
''Cheery.''
She gave him a sad smile. ''It means 'Place of Fear.' ''
''Oh.'' Simon paused a moment, watching as Clary's gaze went back to her daughter. He asked his next question very softly. ''Are you…afraid… of her?''
Clary stiffened. She bit her lip and Simon wondered if he'd overstepped. ''I knew what they were doing to me,'' she admitted in a whisper. ''My mom's story kept replaying itself in my head. I thought- I thought I would hate her.'' She swallowed hard, and Simon got the feeling her mind was elsewhere. ''But then she was born.'' She looked hesitantly at Simon. ''And I didn't.
''Maybe it's because all that time- in the cells- it was just me and her. Maybe she's different than Jonathan was. In any case, no, Simon. I'm not afraid of her.'' She paused for a moment. ''Are you?''
Simon looked at her. She was waiting, waiting for judgment. Waiting to know if he was still her best friend with this on the table. Slowly, he shook his head. ''When I saw her eyes, I won't lie, I was taken aback. But you're my best friend and this is your kid.''
''So… we're okay?''
Simon gave a theatric sigh. He gently flicked one of Moriah's curls. ''Can you believe your mother?'' he said as if she were awake. ''All these years and she's still trying to get rid of me.''
Clary let out a laugh before untangling a hand from Moriah and smacking his arm.
…
Jace ran his fingers distractedly in his hair. He was buzzing with energy, yet he knew he was exhausted. The same thought just kept playing over and over again in his head. I found her. She's okay. She's okay.
Moriah was okay, but the rest of his family was not. Alec and Isabelle had barely been able to contain their horror, nor had Simon in the entryway. Jace knew Maryse and Jocelyn had spoken to Clary while he was in the infirmary, but he didn't know what was said. He was afraid to guess.
Jace pushed open the door to his room, wondering if Clary was here or in another room. He was pleased to see she was indeed here, laying on his bed.
She was curled on her side on top of the covers. He thought she was asleep until she raised her head to look at him. ''Hey.''
''Hey.'' Jace came over, his eyes falling on her hand that was on Moriah's back. Moriah was sound asleep, wearing one of Clary's t-shirts as a nightgown. ''You okay?''
''Yeah,'' Clary said with a smile. ''You?''
Jace looked at her again. He could feel his own smile despite how tired he was. He got on the bed too, taking Clary's hand. For a moment they both just laid there, taking in the calm and perfection of the moment.
Jace stroked some hair out of Clary's face. She was lying in the bed in the apartment, her face still terribly pale from the blood loss, but the healing runes were working and she was finally sleeping. She was safe.
His ears pricked at movement. He looked over at the carefully arranged blankets at the foot of the bed which Moriah was nestled in. She was awake, and her large black eyes blinked up at him. Her hands were grasping at air.
'This is a monster,' said the Shadowhunter inside of him.
But Jace smiled and picked her up, her cold skin coming in contact with his bare forearms. He stared at her and noticed her pale skin and few whips of golden hair. 'She's perfect.'
''Why don't you sit down?'' Clary's sleepy voice interrupted. Jace looked to her and saw her watching them both through half lidded eyes. Jace sat back down, adjusting Moriah so Clary could see her.
Clary moved to lean on Jace's shoulder. She outstretched a hand to Moriah, who began playing with her fingers. ''She okay?''
Jace nodded. ''Yeah.'' He watched her as her hand began to fall. ''Are you?''
Clary smiled at him. Then she buried her face in his shoulder and was soon asleep again.
Jace decided this moment was better. No one was hurt. No one was after them. Yet.
''Clary?''
''Yeah?''
''Renage was there.''
Clary looked at him, her green eyes wide. ''You fought Renage?''
Jace nodded. ''For a while. She got away.''
Clary bit her lip. ''She'll be back.''
It wasn't a question, but a statement. They both knew Renage enough to know she wasn't going to let go of whatever she had planned for Moriah. But they didn't have just her to worry about. ''Maryse said she has to inform the Clave.''
''I know. She told me.'' Clary curled up tighter on the bed. ''What do you think the Clave will do?''
''I don't know. I mean, legally, there is no precedent. But-''
''After Jonathan…''
''Yeah.'' Jace felt the exhaustion on him like a weight. And this conversation wasn't helping. ''I guess all we can do is wait.'' A few minutes of silence went by before Jace asked, ''What did Jocelyn say?''
Clary sighed. ''Nothing good.''
Jace left it at that. He reached the hand that wasn't holding her's to brush some hair out of her face. ''We'll figure it out.''
''Undoubtably.''
Between them, Moriah fidgeted. She curled up on herself tighter until she was right up against Jace. She let out a deep sigh in her sleep. Jace brought one arm around her and moved him and her both closer to Clary. The future didn't matter right now. What did was that he, Clary, and Moriah were safe. The rest would come later.
Me: If you have time, please leave a review and tell me what you think!
Happy Writing!
