Chapter 52: Valentine's funeral. Yay!
I do not own any of the characters, only the illustrious Cassandra Clare owns them. I do, however, own this particular story, so please don't be lame and copy/paste it elsewhere.
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Previously: "Now, just to be clear, love, if you do not stop all of this escape nonsense and continue to refuse me, I will kill Simon Lewis and his lovely Isabelle… then I will burn your beloved mother's Community Arts Center to the ground, with all of your little volunteers inside. Poor little Jules…then I will slit Amatis' throat and make you watch her bleed out… and so on."
One Week Later
Clary stood next to Jonathan, his hand wrapped tightly around her waist, as Valentine Morgenstern's casket was lowered into the ground. She watched Jonathan walk over and toss dirt into the grave. He closed his eyes, as the strange monk, the same one that performed her wedding ceremony, chanted prayers in Latin. She supposed she should act humble, pretend to mourn like Jonathan… just as the throngs of Valentine's former minions were acting. But, she couldn't stomach it. I'm so glad you're dead, Valentine. May you rot in hell. She took a deep breath and looked out over the grounds of the Morgenstern Estate. It was mid March, the grass was green, and the trees were starting to bud. Spring in Idris. Without Jace. Because he's dead… because of me. Tears stung her eyes. There would be no funeral for Jace Herondale… no body to return to his family in New York… in London. Lake Lyn does not give up her dead. Clary had begged Jonathan to let her call Izzy and Alec about Jace. He had refused, telling her she was to have no contact with any of them. Ever. Or else. He'll kill them all.
She was startled from her thoughts when Jonathan clasped her hand. He leaned in close to her ear and whispered. "Come, Clarissa. It's time for the reception. Let us go back to our manor and celebrate his death with his mourners. He will never harm you again. I made sure of that, my love." Clary looked up into his eyes and smiled gently. "I am thankful for that, Jon. He was– well, he's gone." I wish you were too. Jonathan looked back at her, his eyes dropping to her lips, then back to her eyes. Clary kissed him softly on the lips, as expected of her. Jonathan hummed and deepened the kiss. She heard affectionate murmurs amongst the minions… who always seemed to be watching them, as if they were a celebrity couple or something. It grated on Clary. She had been instructed not to discuss the circumstances of her "rescue" with anyone, just to claim memory loss or say "it's too traumatizing to talk about"... as if I would discuss anything with his spineless followers.
They turned and he led her to her wheelchair. She was still unable to walk long distances on her ankle and her broken arm was in a sling. At least that's what she had Jonathan believe. Her ankle was much better, but she had been using it as an excuse to keep him at arms length. So far, it had been working. The doctors allowed her to wear an ankle stabilizer or "boot", but Jonathan insisted she have the wheelchair for the long walk to the Morgenstern cemetery. He picked her up and gently lowered her into the seat. He just wants an excuse to put his hands on me. Kneeling in front of the chair, he elevated the leg-rest and gingerly placed her ankle there. He slid his hand up behind her calf and caressed the back of her knee, beneath her black dress. Clary blushed and shivered, as Jonathan looked up at her smirking. Humming low, his eyes darted down to her chest, where her Morgenstern pendant lay. The black dress was more conservative than most of her others, but still showed a bit of cleavage. And of course, he has to fixate on it.
Ever since she had awakened, seven days before, Jonathan had been quite the loving and doting husband… of course this had been after he menaced her and threatened to murder everyone she loved unless she surrendered herself to him. He took her left hand in his, leaned down, and kissed it above the sparkling emerald ring– the same one she had left on the bathroom shelf at the gala. He had slipped it back on her finger a few nights before, telling her to be more careful with her things.
She knew he wanted sex. He wants me to let him fuck me… "make love" as he calls it. He hadn't made a move on her at all since she woke up, days ago; just kisses and small caresses. He seemed to be giving her time to reacclimate or heal from the accident, but she could tell things were about to change. Times up. He had been exceptionally touchy with her today. Maybe he was feeling more needy because of the funeral… or maybe he's just sexually obsessed with me. Psycho. Jonathan stood behind her chair and began pushing her down the path back to the manor, humming a happy tune. Four bodyguards closed ranks around them, ever vigilant, protecting their new master. And his property. Me.
The reception for Valentine's funeral was quite the soirée. The ballroom was full of people, most of whom Clary remembered from her wedding. There were tables full of food, desserts, and an open bar. Clary smiled and laughed politely at a story one of Jonathan's business associates, Matthew, told. He was young, like them… mid twenties and handsome, with thick black hair, freckles, and hazel eyes. He had attended Cambridge with Jonathan, playing rugby and fencing as well. He seemed nice and Clary actually found herself enjoying his company. He was a bit flirty and asked a lot of questions, but it was nice to just chat with someone. No drama. Jonathan was off commiserating with other minions somewhere, which suited Clary just fine. She found out that Matthew moved to New York a few years after graduating, and worked for Morgenstern Industries. He had flown to Idris for Valentine's funeral. She was excited to get to talk to a fellow New Yorker.
Clary smiled and accepted another glass of wine from Matthew. They had been discussing her studies at NYU and her trip to Rome, then began discussing food. He stared at her appreciatively and watched her toss her hair over her shoulder. Where's Jonathan? He won't like this. Matthew scooted closer to her on the leather couch, their legs touching. "I can't believe I'm talking to someone who has actually eaten at Taki's. A woman who loves Taki's… you're like a dream come true. What's your favorite dish, Clary— uh… Mrs. Morgenstern?"
Clary's smile faltered a bit, hearing someone call her that name. Weird. He called me Clary. Everyone here calls me Clarissa… She put her hand on his arm and squeezed. He smiled and ran his eyes over her. "Oh Matthew, please. Do call me Clary. Taki's was my favorite place back home. Umm… my favorite dish is…" A shadow fell over them and Clary looked up to see Jonathan glowering down at them. Shit. He's jealous. He stared pointedly at Matthew. "Banana pancakes. She loves their banana pancakes, Matthew. With whipped cream and a strawberry shake… you ordered them almost every time I took you to Taki's. Right, my love?" Matthew quickly moved his leg away from Clary and nervously cleared his throat.
Clary looked up at Jonathan and smiled flirtatiously. Let's try to not get Matthew killed. "You remember all of that, Jonathan? I'm impressed. Do you remember my favorite ice cream?" She ran her hand through her hair, licked her lips, then lightly circled her Morgenstern pendant with her fingers. Too easy. He's like a hormonal teenager. Jonathan watched her movements with great interest and pursed his lips. "Mint chocolate chip, love. So easy… You told me that on New Year's Eve. In fact, I've recently had Cook stock-up on a few gallons, just for you." Clary hummed and acted pleasantly surprised. Of course he did. He has to know every fucking thing about me.
Jonathan finally looked back at Matthew, his anger seemingly dissipated. "Matthew, thank you for keeping my beautiful wife entertained, while I made my rounds. I'm afraid it's been hard for her to accompany me, due to her…injuries. I'll see you at the meetings later this week." Matthew looked relieved, stood and shook his hand. "Of course, Jonathan, it was my pleasure. You are a lucky man. Congratulations, again, on your marriage… and, of course, my condolences on your loss." Matthew smiled politely at Clary and excused himself. Jonathan watched him leave, then turned back to Clary. "My goodness, Clarissa. It seems every time I step away from you, another man thinks to tempt you away from me…" He reached out to her and helped her stand. I feel that I'm being bated. Clary felt him wrap a possessive arm around her waist. Clary sighed. "Oh Jonathan. You know that's impossible. All of your— subordinates know that I… belong to you. Matthew was simply being nice. I do miss New York and he made me feel better." Clary rubbed her forehead and sighed. "I'm feeling tired, Jon. May I go upstairs and lay down? Today has been exhausting…" Jonathan waved a hand over towards the door and Clary's nurse, Ruth, walked over, with the wheelchair. "Please take Mrs. Morgenstern back to our room, Ruth. She may have overexerted herself." Ruth smiled warmly at her, as Jonathan helped her into the chair. Jonathan leaned down and kissed her chastely on the lips. I shall be up after this is over, in a few hours, love. We can take one of our lavender baths together. Clary swallowed nervously and nodded as Ruth quickly pushed her from the ballroom. Fuck. I knew it.
Ruth chatted with Clary about little nothings as she pushed her wheelchair towards the elevator. "Oh! Mrs. Morgenstern? Do you mind if we stop at the clinic before going upstairs? Your coat is still there from when you were brought in after your… accident." My coat? She nodded at the nurse. "I barely even remember that night, Ruth. Much less, my coat… but, sure." Ruth smiled nervously and pushed her into the clinic. Clary sighed and pushed herself up from the chair, standing on the boot. "Do you mind if I walk around a bit? I'm tired of being in that chair. I'm not an invalid…" Ruth smiled and laughed lightly. "Of course not. You don't even need the chair… but that will remain our secret. I'll be right back with your coat." Clary hummed and started walking around, looking in the empty examination rooms. She walked into one and pulled open the curtains, looking at the sunset. She turned around and jumped when she saw Matthew standing behind her, in the doorway. He had a serious look on his face. Shit.
Clary stepped to her right, putting the hospital bed between them. She furrowed her brows. "What are you doing here, Matthew? I– I'm not supposed to be alone with–" Clary's eyes widened when he reached into the pocket of his blazer. He shook his head and pulled out her wristlet. I must have left it in the ballroom. "Ruth let me in… I'm sorry Clary. I didn't mean to frighten you, but I had to hurry in case I was spotted. I didn't even think I would get the opportunity to get close to you. I— I took this and put a phone inside… take it." Trembling, Clary quickly reached out and swiped it from him, then backed further away from him. Don't trust anyone. It could be a test or trap from Jonathan. "Why are you doing this, Matthew? I don't know you… or trust you, for that matter. My husband– " He took a step towards her and Clary took a fighting stance. Matthew backed away, with his hands raised, amused. I'm getting sick of being underestimated. "Your husband is a monster, Clary. I'm here to help. Listen… Jace is coming. Jace and Will. I'm working with them." Clary's eyes widened and her ears rang. Jace? She shook her head at Matthew angrily. "Jace is dead. He drowned in Lake Lyn… Jonathan–" …fucking lied to me? Shocking.
Matthew shook his head and scoffed. "He's alive. Jonathan doesn't know… Will and Jem got him out before he drowned. Take what I gave you and call him. You and Amatis are getting out of here soon, okay? I have to get back to the reception, Clary. I'll see you again. Stay safe." Clary covered her mouth and nodded, tears filling her eyes, as Matthew rushed out of the room. He's alive. He's alive. My love. Clary slowly walked out of the room to find Ruth waiting for her, smiling, with tears in her eyes. She held her hands out to Clary. She walked up and looked down at the woman's hands and took them in her own. I know I can trust her… I'm not alone. He's alive. Clary began to tremble and giggle. Don't fucking lose it now.
Ruth's tears ran down her face and her voice shook. "Clarissa Adele Fairchild. I– I am the nurse that helped deliver your brother and I was there when the poor babe passed. I was Jocelyn's nurse, all those years ago, while that monster, Valentine Morgenstern, kept her prisoner… I was with her when she found herself pregnant with you. I came with her from Fairchild Manor. My family has served the Fairchilds for generations." Ruth pulled Clary into her arms, hugging her tightly. Clary sniffled and hugged her back. "I couldn't do anything then… I was young and too frightened. But I will be damned if I fail another Fairchild woman. Fuck these Morgenstern men. I saw one buried today and am looking forward to the next." She handed Clary her coat and leaned close to her ear. "Look in the inside pocket, when you get to your room…now, wipe your eyes and get your game face on, child." Oh mom. I know you're with me.
Clary sniffed, kissed Ruth's cheek, and thanked her. "Ruth. I need you to do me a huge favor. It's dangerous, but I need it done, or I cannot leave." Ruth nodded quickly. "Anything for Jocelyn's daughter." Clary hugged her again. "I'll tell you on the way." She got in her wheelchair, pretended to be injured for the cameras in the hall, and Ruth pushed her to the elevator. Is it for real this time? Or will he win again? Jace. Please be alive.
Clary sat on the bed and removed the boot. She had Ruth take her to her old room, so she could hide the phone, like she had before, after she called him. Jace. She extended her leg in front of her and rotated her right foot. She felt minimal pain but was sure she could run on it if she had to. Getting up, she walked deep into the back of her old wardrobe, closing it behind her. Her old clothes and shoes were still there. Jonathan had only allowed the items he bought her to come to their new wardrobe. Controlling prick. She clutched the phone and handgun to her chest. Tucked in the pocket of the coat she wore the night of the accident was a small handgun. She remembered Jace giving it to her before everything happened. "Chief taught you how to shoot, right? I used to see you at the range with him…" Her father had taught her how to shoot and she was a good shot… but she was right handed and her arm was still in a cast. I'll only use it if I absolutely have to. She sat down and called the only number on the phone. Clary's heart started to race when she heard it ring. Please be him. Please be real…
Jace sat on his bed, his head in his hands, rocking back and forth. Will sat silently beside him, his hand on his cousin's shoulder. "Be patient, Jace. She'll call." Matthew had texted Will that he had given Clary the phone and the news that Jace was alive. All this time she had thought he was dead. He sat tall and rubbed his left side. His ribs were still bruised from the accident and painful, but he did not care. Today was the first opportunity they had to get close to Clary. Jonathan had kept her sequestered to his private wing of the manor. No one, but his inner circle was allowed there. Now that they have an opportunity, there was no way he would miss the chance to rescue her. Ribs be damned. He had the medic tape his ribs, which helped. It had to. Jace jumped when his phone buzzed. Clary. He quickly answered the call, putting it on speaker, his voice shook. "Clary, baby…" He heard her gasp and begin to sob. "Jace– Jace, baby. You're alive. Oh my god. It's true…thank god. How?" Jace took a deep breath. "It was Will and Jem, they saved me and Andrew. Jonathan's shitbags rammed the truck into Lake Lyn. I'm okay, though. I'm fine, just a little bruised. Tell me about you! Matthew said you were in a wheelchair and had a broken arm?"
Clary cleared her throat, sniffed, and told him about her ordeal. The head trauma and surgery, how she was sedated for a week, and woke up with bruised ribs, a broken arm, and sprained ankle. "I don't remember the accident at all or what happened afterwards. I just woke up and… he was there. He told me you died. I felt like I was dying, Jace… Then he threatened Amatis, Simon, Izzy, all of my people in New York. H-he's got surveillance on all of them… the Art Center, Jace! If I leave him again, he will kill them. He swore and I believed him. He's insane. I know you are going to try to rescue me, but I can't let you–" Goddammit, Clary. Jace stood up to yell, but Will took the phone and cut her off. "Clary. Stop. It's Will, love. Listen to me very carefully. We are aware of Morgenstern's surveillance and have moved Isabelle, Simon, Magnus, Alec to a safehouse until our mission is through. The Art Center has been temporarily closed, under the guise of remodeling. Your people are secure, Clary. We are coming to get you and Amatis in two days. No ifs, ands, or buts… I have people on the inside who have assured me that there is going to be some sort of welcome home ball for you on Friday… erm, surprise! So–" Jace growled and reached towards his older cousin. Surprise? Jesus. My turn.
Jace shoved Will aside and took the phone back when he heard Clary sniffling. "Clary. Are you okay, baby?" He heard her take a deep breath. "Yes, yes, Jace. It's just… a lot. Let's do this. I want to be home again with you. I love you so much." Jace closed his eyes and nodded. She's so brave. "Okay, babe. Listen. Our men at the manor are going to get us security clearance in and out of the estate. We will be coming in with the catering company and will leave in one of their vans. You just be ready to go on a moment's notice, sweetheart. We will get Amatis as well. I promise. This is ending, baby. We'll be together again. I can't wait to hold you. I love you so much, Clary." Jace and Clary talked for a few more minutes, whispering promises and words of encouragement and love before hanging up. He looked over at Will, who returned his serious gaze. Will cleared his throat and ran his hand through his dark curls. "You know the only way she'll truly be free of that bastard is if he's dead. Are you prepared for that, Jace?" Jace sat back down on his bed and pulled his knife from his boot, checking the blade in the light. "Of course, Will. How else can I keep her safe? I promised her forever and she will have it. Fuck Jonathan Morgenstern. Let's send him to hell to get reacquainted with his goddamned father." Will smiled tightly and nodded. "Good. We're on the same page then…"