Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters except for Mary, and some other characters I made up. Besides them, all the other characters belong to the wonderful Cassandra Clare.
A/N: In this Clary is fifteen, John is sixteen, and Simon is around twenty-two. This chapter has some of the same things as my first version. But it has a little twist! Btw lot of the questions you guys asked last chapter can be answered if you just read my author's notes! Seriously guys, it's not going to kill you. Thank you so much for all the reviews! Btw you'll know who John is by the end of this chapter. Also I have a poll about Simon on my profile, take it if you want to.
Anonymous1997: Yes I have a beta, but she is currently away for vacation. Same goes for my friend, Hannah. I got a back up beta now though.
**Thank you to Regina de Morte a.k.a. Mezza for editing my story**
The sun was hot, but the light breeze cooled Clary as she dragged the bucket of water to the plants. She tilted the bucket with her free hand and poured it on the new patch of greens. She walked back to the well and set the bucket next to it. Clary turned around and went inside to her room to change. She tugged down her brown dress got into her green one Mary had given her for her fifteenth birthday. None of them actually knew what day she was born, but they celebrated her birthday on the day Simon found her.
Clary sometimes wondered why her real parents had sent her away in a basket. Surely it was dangerous for a baby to be placed in a basket and be sent down a river. Did they really not care for her? Was she that awful? Clary shook her head, trying to shake out the thought. She reminded herself that they didn't matter, and that she was happy with Simon and Mary. However, she couldn't help her curiosity.
She heard the front door open and someone coughing vigorously. Clary rushed out of the room to see Mary crouched down, coughing.
"Ma, Ma, are you alright?" Clary asked in concern. She placed her hand on her back, and patted it with a little force to help ease her coughing. "Ma?"
"I'm fine," Mary said in a horse voice. "It is just the dust. You know how I get in the spring," Mary reassured her. She went to sit on a wooden chair near her.
"Alright," Clary said still not convinced. "Let me get you some water." Clary went to get the water from the black cooking pot that always stood above the fireplace. She took Mary's mug from the counter top, and scooped some water out of it.
"Here you are, Ma." Clary said handing Mary the mug of water.
"Thank you, sweets," she said as she took small swallows.
"Do you need anything else, Ma?"
"No, love. I just need some rest, that's all."
"Alright," Clary said again. She looked at Mary unsure if she should leave her or not. Simon's nearby, Clary thought. "I'm off to the river. Simon is fixing the hen house. Yell for him if you need anything."
Mary laughed and replied, "I will if I need to. Now go, I know you like to spend your afternoons by the river on Sundays. I don't want to keep you from waiting." Clary smiled. She quickly grabbed her pencil and sketchbook, and kissed Mary on her cheek.
"Bye Ma. I'll be home by sundown."
"Be safe." Clary closed the door behind her and walked towards the trail.
OoOoOoOoO
The trail was surrounded with dead leaves from the fall and yellow pollen. Clary kicked them to the side of the trail to clean it up. All the trees, except for few pine trees, were covered with tiny green leaves. The new leaves allowed the sun to brighten up the forest by letting light in. To Clary it was the most magical sight of all.
She looked up to the sun and closed her eyes. She breathed in the warm spring air. Then she made her way through the forest to her usual spot by the river. She gathered her dress up and sat down on the ground. Clary leaned against a tree as she took her pencil and her sketchbook, and began to draw the scenery around her. She concentrated on the contrast between the dark river and bright trees. However, concentration became harder as she suddenly felt relaxed. Her eyes grew heavier, and slowly Clary's mind fell into a deep sleep.
OoOoOoOoO
Some conscious part of Clary's head heard the sound of hooves. Slowly Clary woke up. When she opened her eyes she saw dark green leaves. The back of her head ached from sleeping on bark. She put her pencil and sketchbook on the ground. Clary got up and looked at the river. There was no yellow pollen that usually floated above it, like it did every spring. Clary was confused. Slowly she turned to leave home when she noticed someone staring at her. She turned around to see a pair of golden eyes staring at her. Clary raised her hand to her chest, startled.
It was a boy, with curly blond hair that went up to his cheeks. His skin was slightly tanned. He looked to be about 17 or 18. He's beautiful, Clary thought. His hair was like a halo of gold from the way the sun shined on him; making him look like an angel. Clary's heart raced.
"Don't be afraid," the boy said in a velvet voice.
"What makes you think I'm afraid?" Clary blurted out. She looked at herself and realized that her hand was still resting on her chest. She quickly placed it down. The boy smiled in amusement.
"What is your name?" the boy asked. Clary stared at the handsome stranger in front of her. Should I tell him my name? Somewhere in the boy's golden eyes, she found herself wanting to trust him. But she knew it was better not to.
"It doesn't matter." The boy smirked
"I guess not. I'll just have to call you Little Red." Clary glared at him.
"I am not little."
"If you insist, my lady."
The boy step forward, toward her. She stared at him. He stared back. Clary remembered the hooves that woke her up. She looked behind the boy and there on the other side of the river was a white horse. Other side of the river. Clary immediately, looked down at the boy's boots; they were wet.
"What are you doing here?" Clary asked. He grinned.
"I didn't know I was so unwanted," he joked; Clary frowned. The boy looked back at his horse. "I heard the river and wanted to water my horse. Then I saw you-" he looked into Clary's eyes, "-laying so still on the ground. It scared me half to death. But when I got near you, I saw you were breathing."
Clary stared at him in confusion. "But you don't know me." The boy let out a laugh.
"I know that you sleep like the dead." Clary flushed.
"How long have you been watching me?" Clary asked in a curious tone. The boy stepped a few steps forward, closing the distance between them. He took her hands and laced his fingers through hers.
"Long enough to know that you talk in your sleep." Clary's eyes widen. She knew she should step away, but she felt drawn toward the stranger. She looked at their hands, perfectly laced together. It felt right to hold his hands. She felt sparks of energy pass through her hands to her whole body. Clary looked up at golden haired boy again and glued her green eyes to his gold ones.
"Do you feel it, too?" Clary whispered. The stranger gave a genuine smile. He held her hands tighter. He pressed his forehead against hers.
"Yes," he said in a breathless voice.
The stranger slowly tilled his head and placed his hands around Clary's waist. Clary felt a warm pair of lips on hers. She let out a small gasp and put her hands around his neck to deepen the kiss. He kissed her and she kissed him back. Their lips danced across each other in passion. He is a stranger. Clary flinched, and backed away from the boy. Hurt flared in his eyes, his lips frowned.
"I-I have to go." Clary quickly grabbed her belongings from the ground. "It's late." She turned around and ran through the forest. She looked back once to check if he wasn't following her. She saw the halo of his golden hair.
"Wait…" was the last word she heard from him.
Clary immediately opened her eyes. Her heart was pounding fast as if she just woke from a nightmare. She looked above her to find light green leaves. The back of her head ached from sleeping on bark. She put her sketchbook and pencil on the ground, just like my dream, Clary thought. She stood up and gathered her skirt and looked at the river. Pollen covered all over it. She sighed in relief. It was just a dream, she assured herself. But she was confused whether she should be happy or disappointed. She went to pick up her pencil and sketchbook to go home.
"You're hair is longer." Clary jumped backwards, avoiding stepping on her pencil and sketchbook. Clary turned to see John sitting on the ground with one leg bent and the other out. His back leaned against a tree. He was in the shade. Just as Clary was about to comment on him scaring her, she noticed the look on his face. He looked frustrated; his lips were in a tight line.
"What's wrong, John?" Clary asked. She stepped toward him.
"Did you know that the king and queen died five years ago when you were ten?" John asked ignoring her question.
"No," Clary said softly. She sat down across John. "Then who are those-"
"The people we see every spring, since their death, are their friends. The king handed over the kingdom to his most trusted nobleman. "
"What about the prince?"
"He is going to take over once he is old enough." They fell into silence. Something both of them had become used to. Clary knew John would speak when he was ready.
"Father came back today after months." Clary looked up at John, John was looking on the ground. "I was just coming inside after working in the stables when I saw him, on his arm chair, reading something. He looked at me when I came in and said hello. He had that horrible grin on his face, the one that he always has on. I just wanted to punch that grin off his face." John took a deep breath.
"He acted like nothing has happened, and rumbled on and on about politics, and about the royal family. He said he was happy that the queen and king were killed. Not are theydead, but were killed! He looked as if he wished he had killed them. What kind of monster is he?" John finally looked up at Clary. Her eyes looked glassy as if they were almost going to cry. John sat up straight and tucked his legs behind him. Clary jumped onto him. She hugged his neck tightly with both arms, and buried her head into his shoulder. John wrapped his arms around her waist and dug his face into her curly red hair. He smelled her scent of flowers and other smells that were unmistakably Clary. He smiled slightly as he held Clary in his arms.
"Forget about him, John. He is not worth your time. Once you are older, you are going to run away with some beautiful girl and never see him again."
Clary looked at John sideways from his shoulder. John laughed.
"Like yourself?" John turned his body to face Clary. It was her turn to laugh.
"Oh John, how charming of you, but I know I am not remotely beautiful."
John stared at her as if she had two heads.
"Don't you see, Clary? You are the most beautiful girl in this whole village, if not the whole kingdom." He curled his fingers around Clary's. "Why else have I asked for your hand in marriage since the age of five!" John said with exaggeration. Clary rolled her eyes; she couldn't help but smile.
"You asked for my hand in marriage when we were children because you were young and childish," Clary replied as if it were perfect logic.
"But I asked you again just a few days ago."
"Simple explanation: you are still young and childish." John started to laugh.
"Still stubborn as a mule, I see," John observed.
"Still full of yourself, I see," Clary said defending herself.
"Who wouldn't love me?" John said as he flexed his arms. "I'm gorgeous."
Clary put a hand on his arm to make him place it down. She shook her head, but laughed at John's playful arrogance.
"Why don't you go marry yourself then, John?" Clary asked. "I'm sure you'd be a lovely couple."
"Yes, but not as lovely as you and I." John said, grabbing Clary into his arms. Clary was still shaking her head with laughter. "Think of how beautiful our babies would become if we do marry." Clary cocked an eyebrow at John in warning.
"Did I say too much, I always do when I'm with you," John said playfully. He stood up and picked Clary from the ground and spun her around him.
"John! Put me down!" Clary screamed. John softly put her down. "Your charm has not bewitched me!"
"But it will," John said staring her. "Just as yours bewitched me," he stated dramatically, placing his hands over his heart. Clary smiled at John, her irritation and sorrow from before were already forgotten.
"I am sorry John, I do not think your charm will ever bewitch me. There are many other girls who would love your attention."
"Yes, I know." Clary smirked at his self-assurance. "But there is only one of you. You are all I want Clary," John said. John stared into her green eyes. She stared back into his golden brown ones. Her smirk disappeared when she saw the love, and longing in his eyes. Clary had never seen John look so serious.
"John," Clary whispered softly. "You know I do not share the same feelings as you. You are a wonderful person. I know that, I see that. But you will always just be a good friend through my eyes."
"I will wait until you finally see that I am perfect for you," John said in all seriousness. Clary looked down from his face.
"Oh, John." He tilled Clary's face with one of his hands to make her look at him.
"I am in love with you Clary." His face moved closer, his eyes closed. She felt her own eyes closing. I can't, Clary thought. Just before John could kiss her, she moved back. John's eyes immediately opened, hurt.
"I can't let you do this to yourself. You deserve to be kissed by someone who actually loves you, and not the way I do." Clary's vision blurred from tears as she saw John leaving.
"John!"
"No, Clary. You do not understand how it feels like to be rejected from the girl you've been in love with for years. Just leave me alone." He quickly left in the direction of the forest.
"John!" But Clary knew it was too late. Clary slumped to the ground. She felt guilty from being relieved that John hadn't kissed her. Clary knew she did them both a favor by not kissing each other. John deserved someone better than her, someone who could love him deeply and passionately.
She looked around her surrounding. She was facing the river again. Her pencil and sketchbook were still on the ground. The forest seemed to grow darker. Clary could feel the sun descending from the sky. The sunlight only hit on the tall bushes on the other side of the river. The bushes were fuller and greener than most of the plants around her. Just as she was going to get up, she saw golden locks of hair. Clary turned around and saw the same golden eyes she had dreamt. But in a blink of an eye, they were gone. Clary got up and stepped closer. However, there was no one there, she frowned. She picked up her belongings and walked back home, thinking about only one thing.
Are you real?
IMPORTANT A/N:
**Okay so the secret is out! Which Jonathan is John? John is neither Jace nor Jonathan/Sebastian. He is the real Jonathan Wayland. In my story he never died in a fire when he was a baby. Now you are going to ask me, is Michael Wayland the real Michael Wayland or is he Valentine? And was that the real Jace in the end of the chapter, or an illusion? Well, I can't tell you that yet. You'll just have to keep reading to find out!
**Also incase you didn't catch on, the first time Clary "woke up," was a dream. I didn't put it in italics or anything special because I wanted to trick you guys. I know I'm evil.
Reviewers get teasers! If you guys have more questions about John, or Jace, or anything else, ask me. But be aware that I can't answer all your questions or else I'll spoil the surprise, sometimes only time can tell. :)