I'm numb.
Jace is sitting right beside me on top of the messed up sheets we didn't bother making, and I can feel his steady gaze fixated on me. I don't bother looking back.
I just stare straight ahead, looking blankly at the wall. But all I see is Jonathan.
All I see is his body, limp and twisted in a way it never was in life, being pried from my hands by the guards. His pallor wasn't creamy and cold, but that horrible color of sickness I never saw on his face. Jonathan is dead.
I don't hear Jace's gentle questions, begging me to answer him and show him that I'm not as dead as my brother. All I hear is the throat ripping screams I screamed after he took his final breath in my arms. All I feel is his feather soft hair dripping in cold sweat clenched in between my shaking fingers, the ends of the strands tickling my nose as I bury my face into his neck and rock back and forth with his body. Jonathan is dead. All I taste is the bitter tang of tears dried. Jonathan is dead.
The cloth that Jace presses against my forehead is damp and soft, his hands gentle and wary as he attempts to coax me into speaking. It doesn't work.
Jonathan is dead.
I wish I can cry more. I wish I can feel more. It would be a distraction from the truth. Because it's even worse than the ingrained image of Jonathan's body painted onto the inside of my eyelids in the color of his blood that seemed to never stop pouring from his chest. Not his body. His corpse.
Jonathan is dead.
"Clary, talk to me." Jace's voice comes as a salve, soft and pleading and asking me of nothing and everything. It doesn't help defrost the numbness encasing every single corner of my reality.
"Jonathan is dead."
The words aren't a soft echo in my head anymore. I open my cracked lips and whisper the words out, the razor sharp edges cutting up my throat as I choke on them. Yet in the silence of the room, my whisper may as well have been a shot gun. "Jonathan is dead."
I still can't look at him, but I see the pained look in his eyes from the corner of mine. "Clary, please look at me. Please." I don't.
"Clarissa, I promise you, we'll find out who did this. I swear it. We'll find justice for your brother."
Finally I slide my gaze over to his, though my expression remains frozen. His eyes are wide and concerned, studying my face for any signs of another breakdown. I know it won't come today.
He lowers the wet cloth from my forehead before I speak. And when I do, it's with ice. "I know who did this Jace. And so do you."
Jace doesn't respond. He just watches me carefully, not wanting to say it first. "Clary, don't make any rash decisions-"
"My father made a rash decision when he murdered my brother."
The room rings with my declaration, and Jace doesn't respond. He just bites his lip and stares at me imploringly, sadness embedded in his eyes. He didn't want to admit it, he didn't want to egg me on. But I knew.
"Clary, we don't know anything."
"I know my brother is dead Jace." I interject. "I know he's dead and I may not know for sure who killed him, but I am going to find out Jace. Even if it kills me, I will avenge his death."
Jace reaches out over the sheets and grasps my cold fingers in his own, squeezing hard. He leans in with earnest, gold locks framing his face as his shadowing eyes look up at me with determination. It takes everything in me to not collapse in his arms and let myself cry again.
"Clary," He whispers softly. "I promise you. I swear to you, we will find who's responsible. And we will make sure he pays."
I don't respond. I just nod stiffly, setting my jaw. He gently raises the hand that holds mine, pressing a soft kiss against my knuckles. I squeeze my eyes shut, but it doesn't stop the tear that travels down my cheek.
~o.O.o~
The last time I had made such a long journey, I had been arriving to the Herondale kingdom with no idea what to expect of my future and a mistrust for a king I hadn't even met. Now, I bore the weight of my brother on my shoulders with Jace being the only thing that held me up.
The Herondale castle has been whisked away by the cool air rushing past our carriage, guards surrounding the entire group of people and horses who carried my brother's body back to the Morgenstern castle for his funeral. Jace and I had been escorted into no doubt the finest carriage, yet I didn't bother taking in the grandeur. It was hard for me to notice anything much in the past two weeks. Even as Helen and Maia dressed me with unsure faces this morning and asked my opinion on the glowing white dress and the heavy fur coat adorned with silver runes, I could barely nod. I forgot anything but the image of Jonathan.
Yet still, Jace didn't waver. He planned the return of Jonathan's body, his funeral, he saw to the building of the coffin and the marking of burial runes, and did everything I simply couldn't. Part of me knew I should thank him, but there is only one thing on my mind of late.
Valentine.
He killed Jonathan. Every part of my body rings with that belief. He killed Jonathan. No matter what Jace told me of caution or my own voice of reason said, I knew.
The cobblestone roads that led down to the cities eventually faded away to bright green fields dotted with sycamore trees, yet the sky is dominated with steel grey. I don't speak during most of the ride, only look out as the land beneath me slowly changed hands in ownership, belonging to one kingdom after another on crisply drawn imaginary lines. Only then did I realize just how idiotic kingdoms are. Nature does not yield underneath the command of a king, nature simply exists. No matter how many claim and titles are layered in the air, life hits us all, death hits us all.
"What are you thinking about?"
I turn to look at Jace. He looks striking, a high collared cloak falling over his shoulders, the silver embroidery glinting against his skin. The traditional white of mourning didn't wash him out, instead only made his hair more brilliantly gold. His eyes are tired, but still look intently on. The contrast of this man and the man I knew at our engagement party is startling. He isn't an insolent king anymore. He's a shadowhunter, he's a warrior. He's my king.
"Everything." I whisper back. He just arches an eyebrow in response.
"I feel like lately all you do is think. Not to say I blame you." I crack the ghost of a smile in response. He straightens up, tilting his head. "How do you feel about going back to your land?"
"It isn't my land." I respond without missing a beat. "I barely ever went outside that castle, my only friends were the maids and all i did was train and study. Those aren't my people. I had no people. I had no home."
Jace scoots closer to me on the velvet lined seat, eyes intense as his two hands grasped mine. "Clarissa. The Herondale land is your home now. You have people. Never doubt your place. Your place is with me."
I don't need to voice my thank you. I just nod silently, pressing my lips together until I shake. Jace doesn't kiss me. He doesn't to. He just lets his forehead fall lightly against mine, hair tickling my temples with his lips a breath away from mine. I squeeze his hand in silent gratitude, tuning out everything from the sound of my own mind spinning to the thumps of the hooves against gravel until all I hear is his quiet, constant breath that even drowns out the words that have been circling in her mind for two weeks.
She's alive.
~o.O.o~
No matter how many months had passed since I lived here, I remember the image by heart.
The carriages let us out and began their circle around the castle to deliver the coffin from behind, leaving Jaci and I shivering at the bottom of the pathway that led up to the Morgenstern castle. It's as tall as the Herondale castle, but 3 times less grand and ten times more foreboding. The tall steel spires seem to reach the clouds, all the windows darkened with shadows. The somber air that surrounded it like a damp blanket, however, was new; along with the winding line of white clothed emissaries of different kingdoms and important members of Valentine's kingdom that filled the entire pathway.
The hushed murmur of conversation amongst the funeral guests ceased as they all took notice of Jace and I. Instantly the line sank to their knees, cries of your majesty intermingling with the rush of moving fabric. Jace straightens up, head raised high- forever a king. With a simple, straight jawed nod at the people, he begins his brisk paced walk to the castle with me by his side. I don't stumble or slow, simply kept up the pace as I harshly remind myself I wasn't just a princess or a scared girl in the house of her cruel father. I am a queen with a plan.
Magnus walks on the other side of me, for once not adorned by the shiny crushed powder embedded into his usual attire. Dressed in varying shades of white and silver, his serious eyes peek out from behind his let down hair that hangs straight and jet black all the way to his ears. I cast a quick look up at him, and even with the heavy air around us he manages that same mischievous smile. Despite it all, I smile back.
The foyer where I said my last goodbyes welcomes me once more, filled to the brim with staff walking briskly with flutes of wine and delivering it to straight backed strangers with tight lipped mouths. I bite down on the urge to kick them all out, to kick out all these people who had never known Jonathan and still whispered about his life. Though, that is not why I'm here.
The illustrious ballroom I had barely seen used is slowly being filled, the brilliant gold lights shining onto the thick runes carved into the banisters and tapestries that spoke of death and grieving. Chairs have been set up row by row, an altar adorned with white lilies sitting on a pedestal at the front of the room. I watch from a balcony high above, Jace by my side. My stomach twists at how beautiful and utterly sickening it is.
A tall man with a head of salt and pepper hair approaches Jace and I, stern eyes focused on me. "Your highness, it is time."
He doesn't have to elaborate. I turn to Jace who I know can't accompany me. "You'll be good finding your seat?" Jace nods quickly in response, releasing the hand he had been squeezing. I turn to walk away, but Jace grabs me by the waist and draws me in quickly. I turn to look at him in surprise, afraid of what he's planning on doing in front of a total stranger. But he just presses a kiss to my cheek.
"Good luck." He whispers against my hair. I pull away softly, giving him a small smile.
'Thank you' I mouth at him, and I turn to follow the man. He silently leads me down a set of stairs until I return to the now empty hallway outside the ballroom. There four men are standing next to a large coffin, a bouquet of lilies also on the top. I don't look too long, only stand right behind the closed doors next to my father.
I don't even bother looking at him, and he doesn't look over at me either. "Hello father." I murmur, not bothering to pretend to be excited at his presence."
"Clarissa. It appears marriage has been treating you well."
"Jace has been treating me well." Is all I say back to him, and before he can respond to the obvious acid in my tone, the doors swing open.
My face is set, perfectly blank as I link my left arm with Valentine and step forward, in perfect time with the swelling sound of violins filling the ballroom. Everybody's eyes are on me, the girl they barely knew existed who had been shut away in the castle for ten years before she was married off, only returned with the death of her brother. They know me as a ghost, a whisper of another child of Valentine, and now his only child.
It seems to take forever for the end of the long black silk trail to end, for the coffin to finally be set onto the altar and for Valentine and I take our seats in the very front row as the violins ceased. A silent brother stood directly behind the coffin, tall and foreboding and seeming to be the only splash of color in the room drenched with white. He began.
The silent brother started off with the traditional prayer spoken at all ceremonies for the dead. I tune it out. I tune it all out, the chant for the dead and the speeches of how Nephilim serve the world in life and death. I tune it all out until Valentine stands up.
His face is twisted in anguish as he stands above the coffin of his son, faced by hundreds upon hundreds of his own people. "We gather here today, because my son is dead. Because my pride and joy, my love, one of the people who kept me going after the death of my beloved queen and wife, has died. Through unexplainable circumstances, the bright spark of my sons courageous life has been smothered."
I want to spit at him.
Valentines hand curls over his heart as he looks up at the high roof of the ballroom, an audible breath raising his broad chest underneath the expensive costume of his grief. "I find myself asking the angel, why? Why Raziel, must you take my son from me? Why must you deprive this world of his cultured tongue, sharp mind, and skills that he would one day use to carry on my legacy and lead the people of the Morgenstern kingdom? Why must you take my child?"
My fists clench without notice, and I feel myself vibrating in my seat. I hate him. I hate him so fucking much.
Valentine lowers his face to gaze out imploringly at the guests. "However, sadly the angel has bestowed upon us this tragedy for a reason. As everything-" He cuts off suddenly, his eyes narrowing at something. I whip my head around to catch what he glares at, only to see the main door softly closing.
"For a reason. Thank you." Valentine finishes suddenly, undoubtingly cutting his probably long winded speech short. As the ballroom erupts into applause, Valentine motioned to the same man who had escorted me down, and they both slip out of a side door. My eyes watch them leave, ignoring the silent brother quickly taking control of the ceremony. I shouldn't go after him.
Murmuring an apology to the woman beside me, I silently rise out of my seat and leave the ballroom.
Padding the too familiar hallways of the castle, my ears strain to hear anything besides the booming voice of whoever is speaking on Jonathan's behalf now. They couldn't have gone too far. I loop another corner and I'm met with a corridor I know that Valentine's office is in. Creeping down as silently as I could, I'm finally greeted with Valentine's hushed, angered voice.
"You heard, didn't you."
I freeze. So many times had Valentine yelled at me, screamed at me and raised his hand against me. And never had I heard that much anger in his voice. And even more terrifying, fear.
The door is cracked open, spilling wedge shaped light into the hall. Praying for no noise, I use a single finger to crack the door open just enough to peer inside. It takes everything not to gasp.
Alice. My handmaiden for years, the woman who basically raised me, is sitting on a chair. Absolute terror on her lined face, she looks up with wide and frightened blue eyes at the two men standing above her. Both of their backs are to me, yet I immediately identify Valentine and the man he had left the ballroom with. Valentine's shoulders are set and his muscles are tense underneath the stiff white fabric, feet planted. "Answer me!"
He doesn't bother to keep his voice down. Alice lets a dry sob escape her,, raising her small wrinkled hands that had lovingly sewed me beautiful clothing over the years in mercy. "Please your majesty, I swear on the angel I won't whisper a word. I'll leave your castle, your kingdom, anything. Please!"
"Shut up!" Valentine hisses, tilting his jaw towards his partner without taking his eyes off of the shaking Alice. "Malachai, we have no option."
"My king, we can't kill another one. Suspicion will gather." Malachai's gruff voice warns. My heart sinks. Another one.
"I don't care. There's no one around to miss her. Nobody will notice. We can't have anybody finding out." Alice whimpers quietly, and it takes all my willpower not to burst into the room. He would kill me. He would kill me in a heartbeat.
The finger on the door slips, cracking it slightly more open. Neither Valentine or Malachai notice, but Alice does.
Her watery eyes widen as she sets her eyes on me, a single tear falling down her face spotted with creases and lines. She quickly swallows back and indication she knew of my presence. Taking in a shaking breath as the two men debated what to do with her, a new resolve I had never seen grace her settles into her kind eyes, hardening them into the eyes of a warrior. She looks back up at Valentine, and uses a tone louder and more resolved then I had ever heard her use. The kind lady who stitched me back together with soft words and quiet strength and had woken me every day for ten years was gone. She is a warrior.
"Valentine."
He stopped in the middle of a sentence, looking down at the frail old lady with steel in her eyes. I don't need to see his face to know the look of rage he bore at being addressed with his name by a servant. But before he can explode, she speaks again. "You killed Jonathan. I heard you discussing to send out assassins before he could reach Clary and tell her the truth he discovered just that day. I left in the middle of that ceremony because every word you spoke was a lie!" She cries, fragile voice shaking but not collapsing. "You murdered your son! And you can murder me to, but I swear on every Angel above, everybody will know exactly what terrors you commited. Everybody will see you as the demon you will all know! And you can burn in hell."
His yell of outrage is so loud, I almost am knocked backward with the force of his voice, he reaches for something, and in that split second Alice's eyes meet mine with urgence. She whispers five words I barely process. Go to the dungeons.
And before I can stand up and burst into the room and stop what I know what's coming, Valentine has his sword. And before the light even gets a chance to glint off of the sharpened and runed silver, he runs Alice through.
Hello my lovelies!
I am so sorry it has been ages since an update, I explained it as best as I could on my note on Love Isn't Optional. But if you haven't read that, just know I've been so insanely busy with school and theatre and choir and dance that writing had to take a backseat. But I am officially on summer break, so expect update after update! :) And if you don't remember Alice, she was Clary's handmaid in the first two chapters. I'm sorry if my writing isn't up to par, it's been months since I wrote :/ I love you all and thanks for all the amazing support you have given me, it means so much. Words can't describe how insanely happy I get whenever someone tells me how much they love my writing, it makes me want to continue to be an author. I love you all!
My life advice for today - LOL FUCK BOYS. THEYRE LITERALLY TERRIBLE. TO QUOTE HERMIONE, THEY HAVE THE EMOTIONAL RANGE OF A TEASPOON. SRSLY. GET A FRAPPE AND A BEST FRIEND YOU CAN DANCE TO SHAKIRA WITH BECAUSE I HAVE BOTH AND IT'S LITERALLY TEN TIMES BETTER THAN A BOY. FUCK BOYS GET MONEY.
That's all. I love you all, MUAH! - Em