HOLAAAAA🙋♀️🙋♀️🙋♀️
I can't seem to stop writing, which is good- cuz otherwise I'd be watching Netflix nonstop.
Tbh that doesn't sound too bad...
ANYWAYYY
I hope you all enjoy this chapter, we're about T-2 or 3 chapters away from self destruct mode so please, keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle and enjoy the ride!
Y'all ready?
LEGGO.
"Well, this is simply not acceptable. You must not look better than me at my own wedding!" I state with my hands on my hips.
The blush on Helen and Maia's faces are pinker than the paint on the sewing hall they both stand in.
Agatha is standing to the side, her hearty face crinkled in a smile as she admires the work she has done.
Helen is shifting in her dress, obviously surprised by how she looks.
Staring at herself in the mirror, she lets her fingers ghost through the soft blue material enveloping her body.
It was modest, fitting around her chest and falling in a simple A line.
(A/N: Nawww... mhm, sorry :3 )
It was what I would consider barely fancy enough for an evening tea, yet a huge part of me knows this is the fanciest thing Helen has ever worn.
She looks radiant, her long blonde hair twisted back like always, her face bare and soft, but she glows with an excitement I've never seen on her face.
Maia is a different story.
Constantly twirling around in her dress, she seems to be on the verge of yelling in excitement.
Her dress is black, cutting off at the knee with two sheer black panels that part in the middle.
(A/N: smh, I couldn't find anything that fit my description/what I wanted... anywho-just imagine Maia in that)
The second that Agatha had got it on her, she was off.
Spinning until she was dizzy, she is obviously more excited about the garment than I am about my wedding dress.
Helen eventually grabs her by the shoulders and plants her onto the next platform over so I can properly view their outfits.
Helen laughs a little at my statement. "I'd just like to thank you again, this has to be the most beautiful thing I shall ever wear."
Maia nods along vigorously, eyes bright. I dismiss them with my hand.
"Oh nonsense, thank you for agreeing to come!" I say excitedly.
Agatha starts to put in a couple of pins for the final adjustments of their dresses, just as the door swings open timidly.
Simon pokes his head in, brown eyes wide and uncertain.
"Excuse me, Ma'am, you called for me to meet you here?" He says shyly.
I immediately perk up, wildly gesturing him into the room.
Though it had gotten to the point where we acted like best friends during our piano lessons and such, he was always careful to remember his place around anyone else. It breaks my heart.
"Yes Simon, it's time for you to get fitted for your suit!" I say with the excitement of a five year old being presented with a new toy.
His unease is shown in the set of his shoulders as he walks further into the room.
"M'lady, I know you insisted on my coming, but I highly doubt the others of the castle would like me being there-"
"Well then, it's a good thing it isn't their wedding." I retort, guiding his lanky figure to a podium.
Agatha descends on him, a whirl of grey hair and measuring tapes.
I almost cry from laughter at Simon's terrified look.
Sitting down, I listen to Agatha's babbling about her own dress and how my dress will be ready in a week for sure.
I nod in affirmation,mind not really in the room- mostly on the thousands of other things to be planned for my wedding.
With Jace gone, I had been busying my days with countless meetings with the team of planners, discussing everything from frosting to flowers.
Tiring- yet rewarding.
Between that and spending countless of hours either teaching Simon to play the piano or dozing off on the floor of the library, I was constantly keeping my mind off of Jace.
But my body remembers.
My nerves are on edge, countless hours of training not able to cleanse the feel of his lips from my mouth.
Nine, surprisingly long days.
Sure, there was only one day left, yet it feels impossible.
A bright blush spreads across my cheeks as embarrassment flows through me.
Ten to one he hadn't even thought of me once, and here I am daydreaming on a chaise of him all wantonly.
Sitting up, I focus on the colour of the material Agatha seems to be suffocating Simon with, a pinstriped black that will accent his eyes nicely.
(A/N: picking out dresses is way easier -_-)
I give him a fond smile, hoping he can survive the brutality of a woman on a mission.
He was getting better at the piano, to the point where he managed to hit all of the right notes.
Well, for the first half of it.
The door flies open and and Isabelle's head pokes in, black hair swinging around.
"Clary, you're needed for the final cake tasting." She calls into the room.
I let out the most unladylike groan as I get up, fixing my skirts.
"I thought we finally agreed on red velvet." I sigh, motioning a "be right back" to everyone before following Isabelle out of room.
She closes the door behind me.
"Alright Isabelle, where do they want to meet me?"
She spins to face me, a mischievous smile painted onto her ruby lips.
"Where does who want to meet you?"
"The wedding planners-" I broke off, studying the look on her face a bit more closely.
"Isabelle, who's body do you need me to bury?" I ask with increasing panic. She rolls her eyes.
"First of all, if I ever committed a murder the body would be buried before it even broke the news. Second of all," She bites her lip as she pulls out a large crystal bottle, filled with a deep red drink.
My eyebrows shoot to my hairline.
"Did you steal wine?!" I ask, exasperated.
"Nooooo..." her voice trailed off.
Then I remember.
"Is that the drink you were chugging at my engagement party?!"
My voice rises an octave at the sight of it.
Isabelle told me the berries were grown in some far off part of Idris, and there was no doubt in my mind that it's probably more expensive than 35 year old scotch.
"You did not steal it." I hiss.
She brings a finger to her smiling lips.
"First of all, go ahead and shout the word "stealing" down the halls a little bit louder,love. Second of all, loosen up!"
Izzy begins to walk down the hall, and I'm left stumbling after her.
"You've been so strung up lately, and I know Jace being gone is putting you on edge- don't deny it. So yes, you need a break from everything. Which is why you're joining me in the garden no questions asked."
A million protests to this run through my mind and find themselves on the edge of my tongue, but I save my breath. Nothing stops an Isabelle when she's on a mission.
She hums to herself while we walk through the large foyer painted gold, passing several maids who all drop into curtsies so low that their knees hover an inch above the ground.
Isabelle waves them all off with an airy hand.
The garden is beautiful, even grander than the one Jocelyn used to tend to at home.
A large white patio is sat in the middle of what seems to be a hundred rose bushes, all with different coloured blooms that clash in colours more vibrant than the smell.
Oh, the smell of a hundred rose bushes that don't bear a single dried petal was intoxicating to the point of no drinks being needed.
Isabelle bounds up the steps that were covered in moss, somehow keeping balance on her heels.
I follow a little more carefully, making my way to the sets of delicate chairs that seem like they will break under the weight of a faerie.
Oh how I wish I found this garden sooner, I could've spent my days here.
Isabelle sits down lightly, crossing her long,slender legs and tossing her head up to gaze at the beautiful sky.
Two maids descend, trays of glasses and sugars gently placed on the small decorative table.
I roll my eyes, joining Isabelle begrudgingly. She grins like a lazy cat who sees the mouse walk into the trap, swirling the crystalline bottle between her long fingers.
"Good Clarissa." She purrs.
Resisting the urge to stick out my tongue, I pluck a glass from the tray, settling against the surprisingly comfortable chair.
Okay, maybe the cool breeze isn't so painstakingly horrible. And the berry drink did look tantalising...
Maybe a break isn't so bad.
Unscrewing the top, Isabelle leans forward to pour some into my glass.
I raise my eyebrows as I realise it's syrupy, unlike how I first saw it.
"It's actually a syrup that you usually add to water, or champagne if you're a real alcoholic. Also known as my mother at weddings- she'll be a hoot at yours, I swear." She promises, picking up a porcelain pitcher. "But since it's 4 in the evening and I have a feeling we probably shouldn't get drunk, lets just use milk."
The end result is the prettiest shade of pink I've ever seen, so lovely that part of me doesn't want to drink it.
Isabelle wastes no time in downing a large gulp, before setting down her glass and eyeing me across the table.
"So, nine days." She starts off and I brace myself for what's coming.
A long and painful Isabelle talk.
"Yes Isabelle, I know how to count."
She cocks an eyebrow at my tone.
"Wow, even I didn't think you were this on edge. He really got under your skin, hm?" She teases.
I take a gulp of the drink to avoid answering at first- it was sweet and creamy with the milk, the taste of flowers if they had one.
"Okay, I'll admit it, it's been weird not having Jace here, but I'm not insatiable. It's one more day, Isabelle." I sigh.
She leans forward a bit, eyes sparkling.
"Are you excited for his grand return?" Her voice takes on a dramatic tone, and I half expect an opera to burst from her mouth any minute.
"His grand return? Isabelle- he's coming back from a business trip. Not a twelve year war." I say with a groan.
She shrugs lightly. "Same difference."
Setting down my glass, I allow myself to slump down.
"Okay- if I'm being one hundred percent honest with you, maybe things aren't as easy without him around."
I sigh, staring up at the beautiful grey walls that made up the castle.
The admas that webs it's way in between pebbles glint in the strong rays of light, marking the spot where the Herondale castle lies upon the rolling green hills.
One look with an artists eye, and I know that it was built for beauty and strength, to be admired for years.
In a month or so, it will be all mine.
My stomach sinks at the thought of actually ascending the role as queen, the role that was promised to me- but I couldn't stomach believing.
Queen of the Herondale kingdom, married to Jace Herondale.
The words seem unreal just bouncing around in my skull.
Isabelle watches me over the rim of her glass, seeming to know every thought racing through my mind.
"Clary, are you okay?" She asks quietly, seriously. I shrug lightly, a small smile on my lips that I'm not sure I mean.
"I don't know, Isabelle. It's weird to think about missing Jace, and it's even more strange to know part of me wants him here."
Putting my glass down delicately, I sit back and frown lightly.
"And the fact that the wedding is so close isn't exactly helping. Especially when I can't focus on anything besides how Jace is doing or if I'm in his thoughts." I say, surprised how small my voice sounds.
Isabelle sighs lightly, kicking a leg over the other while giving me a critical look.
"Okay Clary, honesty time." She leans forward, cool, sweet smelling breath close to me. "I've known Jace for a long time. And when I say a long time, I remember before his ego was bigger than this castle.
Never before have I seen him this..."
She trails off for a moment, struggling to find a word and building up my apprehension at the same time.
"-Intense about someone." She says finally.
"For a long time, training and running a Kingdom has been all that Jace has. I'm not saying there hasn't been women, but none that matter."
I squirm a bit at that.
"It's like all his life he's been staring straight ahead, and you got him to finally look around. And when he looked- he saw you."
She bites her lip for a moment, hesitating before speaking more.
"I'm not sure, Clary, but I know that ever since Stephan and Celine died, he's been withdrawn. Mostly because he knows he's on top of everyone, and there's no challenge to his life.
Even demons have become mundane to him. And now, you just walk in and give him the one thing he's needed to give him a thrill again- a challenge...and I think part of him admires you for that. So don't worry if you're more invested, or you care more. You'd be surprised at what goes on in Jace's mind."
I'm silent, mulling over Isabelle's surprisingly serious words.
"I believe you, Isabelle. Thank you for what you said. I just need a distraction from all this." I murmur, propping my head on my hand in a manner of my etiquette tutor would smack me across the face for.
Isabelle watches me quietly, right before leaning forward a bit to pour even more syrup into my glass.
"Well, your distraction is right here."
~ .o.O.o. ~
The deep orange light streams through the high windows, playing patterns against the yellow coloured carpet I lay on.
Stacks of old books that send up puffs of dust every time I open the covers surround me, the delightful smell of knowledge circulating the grand library.
My siesta of sorts with Isabelle had left me feeling a little too light to go back to dress fittings, so I stuck my head into the room, mumbled a quick excuse before I escaped to the library to barricade myself in books.
The sun has long since started its descent, but I don't move.
I lazily skim through an old leather bound novel, not bothering to process any of the complicated words written in a language I'm not entirely sure is my own. Yet it sated me, brought my mind to a state of peace as I wasted away hours underneath the domed ceiling.
My eyes are heavier than the book in my hands, but I try to keep them open.
Just one more page.
(A/N: I just wanted to try out a new writing style, lemme know what you think)
My painted nails scratch nervously against the stem of the dozen white roses in my cold hands.
Oh Angel, had my heels always been this high?
Has this dress always been this abnormally tight?
The light chatter of hundreds of people combined thunder in my ears as I stand stock behind the doors, the doors that lead to my wedding ceremony.
I shut my eyes tight against the fear and apprehension, slowly prying my fingers off the bouquet enough to reach one hand back and grasp the air.
Isabelle answers my silent plea, her slender hand grasping mine in an unspoken agreement.
It calms me the slightest bit, knowing I chose the right maid of honour.
The light call of a wedding planner I've never seen before tells us to arrange ourselves.
I numbly move myself into the place I've practiced dozens of times.
Isabelle steps in front of me, her tall figure trumping mine even in heels.
Music starts up, the sound of piano and violins swelling beautifully and dramatically as Isabelle slips through the pale gold silk curtains before me.
Two maids are braced on either side of me, ready to pull apart the curtain for my grand reveal.
Grand reveal my ass, I'd probably slip on my first step down the aisle.
"It's time." The young maid on the left whispers.
She smiles widely, right before they both on cue pull the curtains wide and reveal me.
Gasps ripple throughout the massive audience, hundreds of eyes fixated on me. Yet I don't falter, swearing to myself to keep walking, to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
Because at the end, underneath an arch of interwoven green vines and roses,
is Jace.
He stands tall, his shadowhunter gear new and pristine and giving off a glow. He glows.
But the knot in my stomach doesn't unfurl, not when I reach the alter, not when Jace lightly grasps my hand, not when I finally stand across from his tall figure.
The silent brothers head is bowed for a moment, his hands still on the deep velvet pillow which two steles rest on. Like that helped the anxiety skyrocketing inside of me right now.
The hooded head rises slowly, and a deep voice resonates throughout the crowd gathered to watch me marry Jace. It fills my head, like mist creeping through a morning field.
A whisper of thought drones in into my head, yet I feel as if it's muted.
A dead buzz fills my thoughts for a few minutes, eyes locked with Jace's eyes.
Yet his eyes are flat, gold and uninterested. That's normal.
Jace grabs for the stele, and I scramble to do the same.
We wait until the cue from the brother, then Jace reaches forward and his stele touched right above my heart.
I wait for the slight sting, but it doesn't come.
What does come- is fire.
My lips let loose a choked scream at the feel of a thousand hot needles prickling my skin, all targeted at the point where the instrument touched my skin.
My knees buckle and I fall to them, staring up at Jace, at his cold face that doesn't move at the sight of my pain, at the realisation of my torture in his hand.
Fire replaces my blood and fries my veins, but I can't move, can't force my hands to uncurl from tight fists and knock the stele out of his hand.
Everybody else is silent, deadly silent to provide no backdrop to my wails.
The pain is so excruciating, I just wanted to die, I wanted it to end.
The blood pours like a gruesome fountain, painting the front of my dress crimson.
I look down in horror, my last scream cutting off into a choked sob.
The blood is the same colour as my hair.
(A/N:Did I get you guys?)
~ .o.O.o. ~
I wake up screaming, arms flying and sending books sprawling across the dusty floor in my panic.
A cold sweat runs down my back and face, mingling with my tears.
The library is dark, except for a single torch lit next to the doorway.
In front of me, is Simon.
His eyes are wide and filled with fright as he puts his hands out in front of me, whether to shake me back to life or to protect himself- I didn't know.
A rattled gasp escapes my chest as I heave, running my hands through my hair and clothes to make sure no blood matts them.
It takes a few minutes and a couple of stammered words from Simon that I don't understand to get me consolable.
Oh Angel. It wasn't real.It was a dream.
It wasn't real.
"Clary are-are you okay?" Simon stammers. I shiver in the cold library, trying to steady my breathing.
"I'm-I'm okay. It was a dream. A bad one." Knowing it wasn't real, that the burning had been imagined, I attempt to calm my pulse. Yet I feel chilled, knowing that it had somehow creeped in from the corners of my mind.
"May I help you to your room? I think you need to go to sleep in a proper bed." His voice is soft,comforting.
I let my head drop as I nod, fatigue deeply engraved into my bones.
My body aches all over, and all I want is my bed again.
Simon reaches out a hand and helps me to my feet, nudging some books away so I don't stumble over them.
He releases me so he can clean up the books.
I barely manage to keep on my feet until Simon straightens up and begins to steer me from the library, concealing his small laugh at how tired I must seem. Luckily, it's not too far away from my room, so our walk is short.
The sounds of our footsteps resonate back to us, the only noise in the silent corridor. Until I speak.
"Do you know of any seers in the kingdom?"
His steps falter for a moment, back seizing up, before he resumes his normal awkward pace.
"A seer?" He asks quietly, trying to hide his surprise. He doesn't do it well.
My mind works quickly, trying to explain this to Simon.
Seers are rare, at least real ones.
They could see into your soul if they wanted to, so powerful they could challenge a silent brother.
Yet so rare, so sought out, they were all in hiding.
They could tell you the meaning of your dreams.
Because bad dreams aren't just bad dreams.
Not when you're a royal, not when you're a shadowhunter.
It meant something, and I couldn't wait until the wedding to figure it out.
"Seers are rare, if they're even real. I mean I've heard some stories about one that mat or may not be fake, but I highly doubt you should put your faith in-"
I stop walking, turning to face Simon with determination set into my face.
"Simon, if you know anything, I need to hear it. I know you don't understand, but I need you to trust me."
A beat of silence, a beat of dead silence passed as we stare at each other, doubt written in the lines of Simon's forehead. But he concedes.
I see his defeat the second his shoulders sink slightly and the sigh escapes his lips. He leans in hesitantly, and whispers a few words into my ear.
Leaning back, I give him a smile.
"Thank you, Simon. Seriously, for tonight. You've been invaluable." I say softly.
He gives me a little lopsided grin, right before saying his goodnight and walking down the corridor.
I quietly push open the door to my bedroom and step in, breathing out a sigh of relief at the sight of my bed.
Sleep now, seers later.
A/N:
Eeek! Hope you enjoyed!
I really liked this chapter, though I think I'm going to love the next one, and I think you guys will too ... hopefully xD
*MUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH*
Love always!
K❤️