The Sisters Sinister.
The Mortal Instruments series and all its characters belong solely to Cassandra Clare (Sassy Cassie). Thank you so much for all of your reviews, favourites and follows! Please review!
Thank you so much for 108 followers, I never imagined this story would be received so well by y'all!
It snowed today! I was like, "Shut the front door!" and I spent all of my last lesson in school running around in the snow with my friend because we had a free (although technically we were supposed to be doing work, but shh)
Also, it's my birthday in a week and a bit and I'm turning sixteen, like, hella soon-yikes. I kinda don't want it to happen, I know, I'm weird as an aubergine.
I'm so sorry I've been so inactive lately, but my stupid ass school decided to get me to do a buttload of stuff and I just didn't have the time to write.
I know, I suck ass and my excuses suck ass, too. But hey, I'm back now, and hopefully I'll last a little longer this time!
A Hall Filled for a Lonely Heart.
Clarissa was escorted to her bedchambers almost immediately. There is so little time till your wedding and so much to do! The Sisters cried as they dragged her away from Herondale and up the elegant flight of stairs that led to the Domestic Floor. Clarissa looked back in time to witness first-hand the shadow that passed over Herondale's handsome face. He glared after her stonily before turning abruptly and escaping the clutches of the remaining Sisters. Clarissa begged to be told what was going on in vain, for The Sisters didn't hear her, or didn't think her question important enough to be answered.
The Sisters rushed around her bedchambers; grabbing dresses and shoes and fitting them into three large trunks. They worked silently but there was an agitated, excited buzz to them. None of them could keep the smiles from their faces. One of The Sisters sat Clarissa down in an upholstered chair and began working at her hair, pulling it loose from its elegant bun and muttering "Hair of The Devil." under her breath as she split it into two halves and braided a crown around her temples. The half that wasn't braided was let loose around her shoulders and was threaded with something that looked like spun gold.
Clarissa remained silent, knowing her questions would be ignored, even as The Sister that had prettied her hair left her bedchambers only to return with a folded package in her hands.
"Mother sent these for you." She said. Clarissa carefully unfolded the delicate white wrapping paper and lifted the garments inside. It took everything in her power not to cry or recoil in horror. In her hands she held a garment so beautiful, so devastatingly beautiful that her hands trembled. It wasn't the garment that had made her want to cry and wail and hide away, it was the connotations of the garment.
The garment was made of a silky white, sheer material. It was so smooth and sheer that it looked like it glowed. Clarissa tore her eyes away from the lingerie dangling between her elegant fingers.
"Put them on." The Sister ordered; her voice lifeless and bored.
Clarissa obliged, she wanted to say 'no', she wanted to say 'no' to it all, but she didn't.
The brassiere connected to a thin corset-like thing. The panties connected to lacy white garters. Clarissa wanted to cry for the shame of it all.
The Sister looked away as Clarissa pulled the delicate undergarments on. Inside the white wrapping tissue was a creamy card addressed to Clarissa. It bore only a line of scrawl; "Please your husband, Clarissa."
The Sister gave Clarissa no time to react. She handed Clarissa an ivory dress and gestured for her to dress herself. The dress was flimsy; it held no weight at all. There was neither supporting corset nor bodice, it hung limply but fashionably off her shoulders. The neckline revealed more than Clarissa was comfortable with. The skirt was long and flowed irresistibly with every step she took. It made her look heavenly, as though the clouds themselves had bowed down to her feet, and had found their place there so perfect that they had no other desire but to stay.
Kaelie had barely closed the door behind her when Clarissa bombarded her with her as of yet unanswered questions.
"What is going on?" Clarissa wasted no time in asking, "Why am I here?"
"Mother has sent word to us that she wants The Sisters to arrange your wedding." Kaelie supplied.
"My wedding is not for another some days, is it not?" Clarissa asked; her heart suddenly afraid to beat.
"It is three days today, yes." Kaelie said, never meeting her eye. "Your farewell party is tonight. They are sending you away in the morn'" Kaelie said in a hushed tone.
Of course, Clarissa mused, now that Mother is gone they can have away with me as instantly as they wish. Would there be a speedier way than by carriage then it would have been employed, for sure. Clarissa sighed heavily and sat down upon the end of her bed.
"I guess this really is the end of my time here." Clarissa said, unable to keep the sadness out of her voice.
Kaelie sat beside her and took held her hand, they sat like that for some time before Kaelie broke the silence; "You look marvellous."
"Thank you." Clarissa replied bleakly. Kaelie bade her farewell and left Clarissa alone in her bedchambers.
Clarissa supposed she ought to be upset, angry, humiliated. But all she felt was longing. Longing for Herondale, longing for what could never be, longing for the comfort of his presence.
Clarissa didn't have very long to herself, The Sisters had already begun the merriments and Clarissa was expected at The Great Hall.
She was escorted there by Kaelie, "Has anyone alerted Miss Isabelle of any of this?" Clarissa asked.
"I sent James this morning while you were with Herondale. She may make it, but nothing is certain."
Clarissa nodded, she hadn't expected Miss Isabelle to drop everything just to see her one last time.
The Great Hall was decorated beautifully, everything white; the flowers, the tablecloths, the delicate wall hangings. Clarissa wanted to forget for a moment, that all this was for her, she wanted to imagine that she was just a casual partygoer, perhaps even one of The Sisters. Important, valued, beautiful.
Someone that could capture the attention of Herondale. Someone completely unlike herself.
Clarissa didn't see Herondale at the party once. She tried not to look for him, but whenever someone approached her or brushed past her she immediately found herself wondering if it was Herondale. If he had finally come to say goodbye.
The party was over fast, or maybe Clarissa was just too absorbed in her own thoughts to take any notice of the time. Whatever it was, Clarissa was incredibly grateful. Tomorrow morn' she would be getting prepared to be wed to a man she didn't know, let alone love.
I'm sorry this is so short but it's just a filler chapter. I might add more to it at a later date. The next chapter will definitely be longer because I want the story to pick up pace...finally.
Please review!
Yours Faithfully,
ClaryFrayMockingjay.
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