The Sisters Sinister.


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A Warning from the Grave.


The Royal Gardens was in full bloom, the scent of roses, hyacinths, dahlias and mint hung heavily in the warm air. Clarissa's skirts swished around her ankles as she walked through the Royal Gardens and in the direction of the Whispering Lake. The flowers soon gave way to lush green trees and shrubbery and then, just as she knew it would, a thin serpentine cobblestone path mad itself known in the clearing. Clarissa followed the path, keeping an ear out for the faint rumbling of water that she had grown so accustomed to. The sound of lazy water became louder and louder until she caught the first glimpse of the Whispering Lake, hidden by the low hanging branches of the ancient trees. Clarissa ducked beneath the branches and walked alongside the Whispering Lake, letting the water lap out to touch her toes. The Whispering Lake was so clear you could see all that lurked within, from the clusters of tadpoles to the tiny schools of fish that glittered beneath the surface of the rippling water. Light from the sun sparkled off the water and created beautiful reflections all across the clearing. Clarissa found a boulder just shy of the water and sat down daintily, right hand fisted beneath her chin. Her wedding day was in exactly six days, and she had no idea how to stop it. Clarissa had already decided to do all that was in her power to stop this wedding, but how she did not yet know. Her thoughts had been too consumed by last night's dance and she had found herself to be distracted by Herondale. She had heard the whisperings of The Sisters and almost ignored them, for their gossiping was nothing out of the ordinary. Her attention had been caught, though, by the secretive mention of Herondale, it turns out he would be staying The Great Chambers. So close that Clarissa need only turn the right corner at the right time to bump into him, but Clarissa thought she ought not to bump into him. He made her feel...something. Something new, something Clarissa didn't know if she was ready to face. Clarissa had been wandering around all day, trying her best to stay out of everyone's way, but The Sisters seemed to be extra vicious today. They glared and ranted and screamed at her over the littlest of things, "You're walking in front of me, whore, get out of my way!" or "I must say little Clarissa, you look even more horrific today than you did last night, if that is even possible." Clarissa didn't know what had set The Sisters off until she bumped into Kaelie. The blonde girl dragged her into the Royal Kitchens and told her what The Sisters had been saying about her.


"They are furious at you, Clarissa." Kaelie sighed sympathetically.

"Furious? Aren't they always?" Clarissa retorted.

"It is worse this time. They all saw you dancing with Herondale and then they saw you run off."

"So? It was just one dance" Clarissa replied, exasperated and confused.

"Exactly, it was just one dance. You were the only woman he danced with, after you left he just wandered around and turned down offer after offer. They think he was waiting for your return, searching for you."

Clarissa felt her face flush and she lowered her lashes, hoping Kaelie hadn't caught the joy and hope in her eyes. Her heart beat furiously in her chest and her stomach seemed to be restless, unable to remain still.

"W-why, why would he be looking for me?" Clarissa asked.

Kaelie looked at her and sighed in a way that made Clarissa feel like she was frustrated at her, "You are strangely dense, Clarissa." And with that, Kaelie flashed a devilish grin and left Clarissa to ponder her words.


Clarissa looked at the shimmering lake, still thinking over Kaelie's words. What could she possibly mean? Clarissa finally gave up trying to figure Kaelie's words out, she stretched as she stood up and walked away from The Whispering Lake and made her way back towards The Great Chambers. She was just passing the rose bushes when she heard someone whistling a low, jovial tune. Clarissa couldn't whistle, and found the whole concept fascinating. She followed the tuneful sound, stepping through the tall blades of grass and wildflowers. Suddenly, the whistling ceased and Clarissa frowned disappointedly. What a shame, she thought. Clarissa continued the rest of her walk in silence, watching her sandal clad feet as she stepped carefully between the flowers. Her attention was fixed on not damaging any of the beautiful wildflowers so she didn't see the person standing with his back turned to her until she came in contact with his hard back. She stumbled backward and closed her eyes, anticipating the fall and knowing she couldn't do anything about it, she just had to let herself fall. But she didn't fall. She was encased in warmth and stability and was pulled roughly into something hard and soft all at once. Someone had caught her, someone with great agility and strength presumably male, and that someone had his strong arms wrapped around the flare of her hips and his jaw brushed her profile. She felt his breath stir the soft hairs by her ear and hastily pulled away once she was steady. She didn't need to look at him to know who it was, but she did anyway. His hair was slightly more dishevelled than it had been at the dance, and she felt a strong urge to run her fingers through it and comb it out. His face was as beautiful as she remembered and he loomed over her, a small smile gracing his full lips.

"Clarissa, if you wanted me to hold you all you had to do was ask." He said by way of greeting, voice indulgently low.

Clarissa met his swirling gold gaze. "I must admit I was a little disorientated by my almost-fall, but I know now what caused it." Clarissa replied.

"Oh, and what's that? My worldly beauty?"

"No, I merely tripped on your ego, which by the by is far too big for reason."

"If you'd like, I could show you other assets of mine that are far too big to reason." Herondale smiled wickedly, and Clarissa felt an all too familiar flush touching at her skin. Herondale smiled wider, taking an enjoyment in her discomfort.

"You seem to blush considerably around me, Clarissa. Should I be concerned?" Herondale asked; a teasing lilt to his deep voice.

"The only thing you should be concerned about is getting out of my way, so as to let me get back to The Great Chambers and forget this sorry collision ever happened." Clarissa said, her words were harsh but her face was open and kind. Herondale ignored her and moved closer, Clarissa could feel the warmth of his body mingling with her own.

"You have the bite of a cobra but the face of an angel, Clarissa. I have been unable to forget you, to ignore the pull I feel towards you. Is it this way for everyone who meets you?" Herondale asked softly.

Clarissa looked away, partly out of embarrassment but mostly out of sadness. "You are an anomaly. None else would ever admit to feeling anything other than hatred towards me, aside from Mother and Miss Isabelle of course." Clarissa answered; voice barely above a whisper. Around her, the musical sound of the birds was fading, and the light of day was darkening into the first touches of night. The sky was a canvas of hushed reds, dusted pinks and muted oranges, the sun was a huge disk of blood-orange, dominating the sky as if it were its very own stage. The wind died down and whispered along the swaying grass and through Clarissa's hair, tickling her face with it. Herondale stepped forward so fast that Clarissa didn't even have time to react. He lifted an elegant, golden hand to her face and gently moved her auburn hair out of her face. Clarissa's vision was filled with gold: gold hair, gold skin, swirling gold eyes. Her ears were filled with the rapid thud-thud of Herondale's heart and his deep, un-even breathing. All she could smell was rich earth, the distinct smell of man and danger, so much danger.

Clarissa stayed as still as she could.

Herondale opened his mouth- What do I do? Clarissa fretted internally- Is he going to kiss me? He can't kiss me. He won't. To Clarissa's relief, and dismay, Herondale didn't kiss her. Instead, he asked, "Why would anyone hate you?"

"Because," Clarissa began, "I am not a Sister, I am not Graced. I cannot see into the future or bring a flower into bloom in my palms. I am just ordinary." She confessed.

"Not a Sister?" Herondale echoed, looking shocked, "But how can that be?"

"I wasn't born into the Sisterhood. I was found alone in The Royal Bakery. No one knows who my birth-parents were, I became Mother's. I belong to Mother, she owns me." Clarissa said, there was a hint of longing and sadness in her voice, but it was carried away in the wind before Clarissa could identify it. Only Herondale recognised it, and he was the only one to hear Clarissa's side of the story. Not even Miss Isabelle had heard this much; Clarissa's arrival and stay at The Great Chambers became a thing of great mystery to outsiders and Mother sought to keep it that way.

Herondale searched Clarissa's face. "You are beautiful, Clarissa" Clarissa was about to cut him off, to tell him to stop, but he must've known because he said, "I am not being polite or gentlemanly, I am merely curious. The Sisterhood is for the most beautiful, most honest, most valuable. How can you not be a part of The Sisterhood? You are beautiful, you are honest, you are-"

"A whore." Clarissa interrupted flatly.

Herondale looked as if he'd been slapped, his expression a mixture of confusion, surprise and shock. "What?" He breathed. "I don't believe you." He said, voice stronger than it was a few moments ago.

"Well, you ought to. Ask anyone, ask The Potentials, they know just what I am, they're torn between hating me and-and..." Clarissa trailed off, remembering all those times a Potential had tried to force her into their Bedchambers, tried to force themselves onto her. Miss Isabelle told her she wasn't a whore, but what if being a whore was her role, all she had to give to the world?

"And what, Clarissa? What have they done to you?" Herondale gripped both of her arms and forced her to look at him. Clarissa didn't know what she expected to see in Herondale's face, but anger and hatred wasn't her guess. The anger and hatred in his face didn't seem to be directed at her, but at something else.

"Nothing. I have spoken out of line, forgive me." Clarissa said hurriedly.

Herondale wasn't convinced, "Tell me, Clarissa, or I will request and audience with Lilith." He pressed, "I advise you not doubt me." He added.

Clarissa felt tears of frustration well up in her eyes. How could I be so stupid, she thought, as to say so much to a stranger? If Mother finds out I have been talking to Herondale alone; and above all about The Sisterhood, she'll never forgive me.

"Some of them...you have to understand, it wasn't that many of them and it wasn't their fault. The Sisters told me, they made me see the truth of it all; I am a whore by nature and by blood. I attract men and I steal their souls and then give them to Lucifer to feed his emptiness. I am a slave of The Devil, that's why my hair is red. They can't help it, it's my fault-" Clarissa was cut off by Herondale.

"Stop this insane nonsense and tell me what The Potentials did to you, Clarissa." He said furiously but softly.

"They...some of them forced themselves upon me, or tried to anyway. Mother stationed a guard outside my Bedchambers so the guard removed any perpetrators that tried to get to me." Clarissa said in a rush, hoping he wouldn't hear her.

Herondale's grip on her arms tightened and any hope she'd had that he'd misheard were crushed.

"They tried to rape you?" He asked. Clarissa said nothing. "How can they get away with this? Why aren't you better protected? Do they not know how important you-" Herondale stopped himself short. "You cannot stay here, Clarissa." He looked pained when he said the next part, and avoided her eyes. "How many? How many men have you had?"

Clarissa felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. So, she thought, He is disgusted by me. By what I am. He refuses to even look at me.

"None." She said softly, hating that there was nothing she could do to reverse her fate.

"None?" Herondale snapped his gaze to hers, looking even more shocked than he had when she'd told him she was a whore. "Clarissa if you have had no men then how can you call yourself a whore? How can The Sisters call you a whore?" Confusion laced Herondale's voice.

"I already told you, I am a vessel of The Devil." Clarissa replied, irritably.

"Is this what The Sisters have been telling you?" Herondale asked, furious once again.

"They told me the truth." Clarissa replied indignantly. Who was this man to tell her The Sisterhood were wrong? To imply Mother was wrong?

"They have brainwashed you. They've stripped you of your own sense of self." Herondale marvelled to himself.

"What are you talking about?" Clarissa demanded.

"You cannot stay here, Clarissa." Herondale repeated somberly.


Why is Herondale being so cryptic? What's with all the questions? What do you think of The Sisterhood, The Potentials and of Mother? Please review!

Yours Faithfully,

ClaryFrayMockingjay.

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