Song Inspiration: Hometown – twenty one pilots, Ordinary Human – OneRepublic

Chapter 109 – Morgensterns No More

"Are you sure you're not just doing this because of Jonathan?" Jace murmured in my ear, his fingers playing with a lock of hair that covered the pinna, giving me goosebumps with each brush against my skin.

I tucked my hair behind my ear before I answered. At least that was my intention. Jace caught my hand in his before I could complete the gesture. The warmth of his fingers spread through my body, tingling. Every time, no matter how casual our touch. "I'm doing it for both of us," I explained, serious enough that he met my eyes.

"She could be gone for a long time. You realize that, right?" Yawning, Jace let go of me to stretch and lean against the sofa where we were sitting.

Once again we found ourselves in Imogen's office. Only on this second morning after defeating my father we weren't here on official invitation. Quite the opposite was the case. The Inquisitor and the Consul were in a closed session with the Shadowworlder Council. Jace had already wanted to leave the Gard, but I had insisted on waiting in his grandmother's office. I wanted to get this matter settled today. Jace, who was the only one with access to Imogen's rooms in her absence, had smuggled me in without further ado.

So we lounged around on her couch, the cushions of which were too firm to be comfortable. Surely a tactic to encourage her colleagues to keep their visits brief. But she would not stop us from waiting. We were more persistent than most of her pampered politicians. Although … Jace lounged, while I sat beside him stiff as a board. I wasn't used to sitting around idly. The absence of a task left a sense of restlessness in my limbs.

"You don't have to wait with me. You know that, don't you?" The question had taken on a teasing tone. Gently, I brushed a strand of blond hair from his face so I could see his eyes better.

Jace smirked to himself, his eyes closed. He snuggled into my palm and let out a deep sigh. "To miss even a second of your presence?" he breathed, pressing his lips against my knuckles. He sounded so serious, so sincere, that I automatically leaned over to him. He didn't need his sight to sense my presence. Yet his eyelids fluttered shortly afterwards, revealing gold-rimmed pupils that adjusted to the midday light. "Come here."

I was sitting right next to him, his left knee pressed against my right, while the rest of his body twisted in an effort to find a somewhat comfortable position. Without complying with his request, I raised an eyebrow in mock surprise.

Jace reacted instantly. A mischievous smile lit up his features as he slipped his arm under mine and pulled me toward him. Or rather — onto him. Because the moment he decided our closeness wasn't quite close enough, his free hand curled around my thigh, effortlessly lifting me onto his lap.

A gasp pressed against the inside of my throat. We could not get much closer. Suddenly my heart was pounding too hard in my chest. "Jace." I had meant to say his name in warning, but the look in his eyes melted away my caution.

Quite pleased with himself, Jace looked up at me. His honeyed irises were practically glowing, and all tension had vanished from his facial muscles. He didn't even manage his usual playful cockiness. Instead, he looked so happy, so effortlessly at ease, that every sacrifice I had made felt worth it just to reach this moment. The surge of happiness that exploded within me at the sight of Jace was indescribable.

"Clary." I wasn't sure if he was trying to mimic me. Jace sounded oddly breathless. His eyes never left mine as one of his hands slid to my hip and the other up to my neck.

As if by magic, I thought of the night in the Gard cell. As if by magic, I leaned down toward him. Jace met my lips halfway, lifted himself up to me, and sighed into my mouth.

Like every kiss before, this one catapulted me far from the world of mortals. There was only Jace's warmth mingling with my own. His fingers digging into my skin like anchors that would hold me in the darkest hours. His strong shoulders catching me when I felt like I was melting against his body.

What had started as a passionate kiss turned into a soft caress. Jace pulled away from my lips and gazed at me longingly from beneath his arched lashes. Then his face moved past my cheekbone and down my throat. His arms, enveloping me like a safe cocoon, supported me as I tilted my head to the side and took a sharp breath.

Greedily like a choking man Jace inhaled the scent of my skin. His fingers tightening around me with each passing second, as if he feared something would tear us apart. I swallowed the lump in my throat that threatened to overwhelm me every time I went down that path of thought.

"Jace," I whispered weakly, stroking his hair. He purred like a cat – golden like a lion. You are the only weakness I allow myself.

"I love you," he replied, several octaves too low, hoarse from the flood of emotions coursing through him. It was as if I felt a reflection of them in my own veins.

I reached for his face, pulling it insistently to my level, and reunited our lips once more. Jace gasped, and in the blink of an eye, he had pushed himself upright from his half-reclined position. His hands dug into my waist as he pulled me even closer against his chest.

The legs on either side of his hips sent a hot sensation down my stomach. Suddenly I felt like even our clothes were too big a bridge between us. "Don't let go of me," I whispered against his lips, just as our eyes threatened to lose themselves deeply in each other.

The intensity of Jace's love could not be captured in the burning depths of his pupils. "Never." So close to losing control, his answer was nevertheless dominated by a seriousness that threatened to tear me apart. A promise he would die for.

Jace trembled beneath my hands. Every touch, even my fingertips, seemed to set him on fire. "Never, love," he repeated. So quietly that even I could barely make out the words. His mouth tasted of lemon as he urged it against mine, as if his life depended on it. They slid over each other as if this would never end. It was exactly what I wanted.

In that moment, several voices rang out from the other side of the office door. Jace's arms tightened around my back, but he kept his promise and didn't let go of me. A gloom settled over his features that could not completely hide the lust on his face. "She has damn bad timing," he croaked hoarsely. Clearing his throat, his hands ran through my hair in a weak attempt to smooth it down. I did the same to his curls.

Then, the door let out a scraping creak. More gently than the hectic situation demanded, Jace set me down next to him on the sofa – where I had been sitting minutes before. His left arm lingered around my shoulders as he sat down just inches from me. Our eyes brushed over one another one last time, caressing each other with longing that bordered on desire. Faster than the beat of a wing, Jace pressed a final, fleeting kiss on my mouth.

Just in time, because the door was already swinging inwards. Imogen strutted in, her robes billowing. At first she didn't even notice us. She slammed the door shut with a practiced kick of her foot and placed a pile of documents on her desk, her back to us. Then, her shoulders slumping as if she were releasing all the tension from them, she slowly turned on her own axis and leaned against the front of her desk. For the split second that she didn't see us, she looked just as exhausted as she did at peace.

Then Imogen's gaze brushed past, catching Jace's and mine in passing. Maybe we should have sent her a Fire-message as warning ... She jumped in the air in shock. Poor woman. I could barely hold back a snort. Jace shook with amusement.

Her eyes narrowing into slits, she slammed her palm down on the mahogany table so forcefully that it was Jace's and my turn to jump. "By the Angel!"

"No Hello, my favorite grandson, how wonderful to see you! from you, grandmother? I'm disappointed!" Jace chimed with a mischievous grin that made his teeth flash.

"Jonathan Herondale," Imogen warned. Her hand on the table clenched into a fist as she straightened up to her full stature. As if she could undo the last few seconds. Her ice-cold pupils, where warmth had just resided moments ago, now seemed intent on gutting Jace. "Every single time I ask you to announce yourself beforehand."

Her attention flickered between Jace and me, only to frown. In suspicion? I was sure we looked disheveled enough to put two and two together. If she noticed something, she didn't mention it. One of the Inquisitor's few virtues was that she never appreciated interpersonal tension — or, as Isabelle would say, drama. As soon as it got personal, she would withdraw from the affair, as if emotions were a tedious waste of time.

"Who should I announce myself to?" Jace asked with an innocent expression. His fingers drummed a rapid beat on my shoulder. "It's not like there's a servant waiting at your door."

"Employees, Jace. I am not a queen," Imogen retorted, almost indignant, and automatically drifted into her politician's tone. To underline her words, she brushed invisible dust from her Inquisitor's robes. Today she had braided her sky-grey hair into a long, loose braid that lacked any severity. "I do not suppose you are here for fun?" she blurted out next, eyeing us sharply. And knowingly. Suddenly I had the unpleasant suspicion that perhaps Imogen had only not been interested in all the drama because it had not personally concerned her or the Herondales.

"As always, you're right." To my surprise, the two Herondales shared a smirk that, on Imogen's end, seemed more amused than I would have ever thought possible. An expression that could have come from Jace's face. That finally made my cheeks blush. His grip on my shoulder was what kept me from hunching over in shame. "Clary comes with information."

I wanted to give Jace a harsh nudge for the way he slyly drew Imogen's attention to me. His amusement was hard to ignore so close to him. Instead, I lifted my chin just a little too defiantly. Almost stubbornly — something that earned another barely suppressed laugh from Jace and made Imogen … press her lips together in a suspiciously tight line.

"From what I understand, the Clave is still conducting investigations at the old Morgenstern estate, is that correct?" After everything that had happened in the last few days, my question echoed far too formally through the office.

The Inquisitor nodded slowly, any trace of pleasure gone from her expression.

"Since it now belongs to my brother and me, we would ask you to complete them by this evening."

At that, she finally raised a demanding eyebrow. "And what makes you think that I will fulfill your wish, Clari– Clary?"

Now it was my mouth that twitched. Boldly, I stuck out my chest and allowed myself the smallest of smiles. "Because there won't be anything left to examine after tonight."

oOo

When I closed my eyes and let all my other senses take over, my brain could still immediately identify this place. It was like an invisible bond, formed from years of memories and sensory impressions, that irrevocably connected me to the property where I had spent most of my life.

Although the forest was some distance away, we were so deep in Brocelind – so far from civilisation – that the nuances of spicy resin and fresh mountain air hung over everything like part of the protective spell. Only the spell no longer existed.

The chorus of animal noises was so familiar to me, even after three months of absence, that it would normally have quickly faded into the background. Geese cackled, goats bleated, pigs grunted as members of Imogen's government put the animals in cages or tied them to ropes and shipped them to Alicante. It wasn't long before nothing remained of the sounds of my childhood except the echo in my chest. The faint resonance of nostalgia that had largely evaporated in the past few weeks now glowed more strongly again. A feeling that clenched my stomach and left me breathless. A quick glance at Jonathan revealed that he felt the same. Even if he was still hiding behind his walls.

My relationship with my brother continued to be difficult. After he had run away last night, we had not mentioned our argument. I had tried to give him the space he might want. I wasn't sure if he wanted it at all – let alone what he wanted in general.

Hesitantly, I reached for Jonathan's hand. His head bobbed in my direction. He studied me with cautious green eyes, as if I might mean him harm. But we were still siblings; we still belonged together, even if he wasn't at peace with his existence. And so he intertwined his fingers with mine and squeezed them. Somehow we would survive this storm, since we had already braved the hurricane.

"Do you want to talk about how you're feeling?" I asked after some effort, the warm words rising in grey clouds of breath. I watched them gradually being swallowed up by the cold and waited for an answer that I almost expected never to receive.

His hand tightened around mine but didn't let go. I was surprised, given our argument. I had not wanted to provoke or upset him, but deep down I was expecting another tirade. I didn't know how to approach him without addressing the problem that stood between us: Jonathan's refusal to talk to me and forgive himself.

"Please give me time." The words shot out of Jonathan like thrown knives, as if he wanted to get rid of them as quickly as possible. Like an insult and not a request.

My chin moved in a slow nod. "Of course." I fought against the hope that warmed my blood. This was progress, even if it came out of the blue.

"Are you ready, sister?" Jonathan didn't take his focus off me.

A wave of goosebumps ran down my spine and I shook myself. "We took everything that meant something to us. This house is just a shell," I forced myself to say. Yes, we had temporarily stored all the objects in the dilapidated Morgenstern estate in Alicante. Mainly Mother's paintings, but also objects from our rooms and a few mementos from the rest of the house.

"A shell haunted by memories," my brother remarked, gritting his teeth, as if he had read my thoughts.

"We can create new memories, can't we?" This time, the hope was evident in my voice, which rose several octaves.

Jonathan's expression softened. The hint of a smile appeared on his mouth. "I hope so."

I squeezed his fingers and Jonathan squeezed back. There it was — the old shell of my brother, the gentle soul that slumbered somewhere within him. A shaky peace – but still far better than if we were at war with each other. It was just the two of us left.

None of us voiced a truth that he had surely realized as well: While we would carry the memories of our past with us, many of them would be buried with the estate today. Not only the bad ones.

"Then let's end it."

The last rays of sunlight were just disappearing behind the tall pine tree tops as I turned to the few figures standing at a safe distance. Mountains loomed in the distance, touching the orange-red atmosphere with their peaks as I took a moment to observe the people who had remained after the last members of the Clave had disappeared. My friends.

A moment I could drag out without worrying – now that there was nothing monumental to worry about. I took a deep breath, inhaled the fresh aromas of flattened grass and wet needles, and immersed myself in the sight of these people. People who had given me so much and risked so much for me. And finally, worry, fear and exhaustion had vanished from their faces once and for all.

A tug on our Parabatai bond was enough to wake Isabelle from her conversation with Jace and Adam. Her eyes, as brown as Brocelind, flew to me as if drawn by a magnet. A satisfied grin lit up her features. Jace and Adam's heads followed her. I reached out to them with my free hand. Alec and Magnus hung at their heels, deeply entangled in a lively dialogue that didn't reach my ears.

They were an odd group, my friends. Held together by Isabelle, who was the heart of it all, the branches of friendship and love intertwined, wrapping around each of us. Parabatai, lovers, friends, siblings. I squeezed Jonathan's hand a little tighter and offered him a reassuring smile as they approached. Hopefully, I would not be the only one reaching out to him. Hopefully, the vines of our group would soon weave around him as well.

And then, when we were all together and assembled, we moved to the steps of our old home. Formed in a semicircle, the others kept a little distance while Jonathan and I stepped forward and climbed the marble stairs.

My steps staggered, just like Jonathan's, and echoed across the deserted property. Too loud in the unnatural silence. Almost like the time I had been surprised by a horde of demons right here. Our fingers tightened around each other, searching and giving support.

Once we reached the platform, we reached for our steles, which we had kept ready on our weapon belts for this very moment. Almost like the day before yesterday when we had given up our false forms at Lake Lyn.

"Are you ready?" Jonathan breathed into the fresh spring evening, barely audible over the rigorous pounding in my ears.

"Yes."

As in tune as one could be after eighteen years of training together, we drew the runes on the insides of our palms before pointing them directly at the abandoned house that now loomed lifeless and dark before us.

Fire lit up the approaching dusk. It shot from our hands with the force of human cannons. Underestimating its force, it almost pushed us backwards down the stairs. The flames slammed into the front door and a roar echoed through the silence of the forest as wood and stone gave in to the power of the brutal heat. It wasn't long before we had to back down the stairs to avoid melting into them ourselves.

Crackling and popping, the fire ate its way through the layers of walls, floors, furniture, and everything we had left behind. Deafening, as close as we were to the spectacle, but none of us could move further than the small safety distance. The glow spread to our cheeks, burned against our skin, but we didn't retreat. Not even when ash-gray smoke enveloped and threatened to suffocate us. The gases burned my nose, the fumes scratched my throat, the soot covered my body and left a never-ending mixture of dust and bitterness on my tongue. I wanted to vomit, but stayed where I was.

The flickering flames competed with the last remnants of the sun, shining with it and glittering in various shades from yellow to red. As beautiful as the sight was, I would have enough of fires – of any kind – for the rest of my life.

We would never have found peace here. Neither he nor me wanted to live here, let alone maintain the property. I, for one, never wanted to return. Everything – every plant, every wall, every path – reminded me of our dead family; brought back echoes of long-silent voices and long-lost memories. It would drive me mad. It didn't matter whether Valentine got what he deserved or not. He was still my father.

Only when the smoke settled and all that remained of our past was a charred foundation and collapsed roof beams did Jonathan find his voice again. "Morgensterns no more."

Chapter 109, oh boy. I'm currently struggling with the second-to-last chapter — kind of a writer's block situation going on… I really want to finish it by Wednesday because I'm flying to Thailand then. Pray for me haha.

What did you think of this chapter? We got a sweet Clace moment and the official closure to the Morgenstern name. I've always known that Clary would burn down the manor, but Jonathan being there too only came together later on — for a long time I wasn't sure whether I'd let him live or not.

Also, just a reminder that there won't be an update next week since I'll be traveling. After that, I'll have to see how things work out schedule-wise, but I think it should be fine!

Much love — and wishing you all a happy Easter already!
Skyllen

P.S.: Thank you guys for all your comments, especially Rasta! 3 Fyi I usually update on Thursdays, but I delay a lot haha.