The Mortal Instrument character names belong to Cassandra Clare. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. ©2013 MortalMolly. All rights reserved worldwide.

Chapter One

Six months had passed since Clary had jumped through the portal to Idris, since she had witnessed Jace's near death experience and the subsequent destruction of her psychotic father, Valentine. Six months since she'd discovered that Jace, the boy she had fell in love with, was not her biological brother, but had no relation to her at all. And during that time, she'd been completely happy.

The Accords were resigned, creating a stronger pact between Downworlders and Shadowhunters than had ever existed before. There were Council members representing each family of the Shadow World; the Children of Lilith, Night, Fey and Moon.

Jace and Clary had presented their versions of what'd happened by Lake Loryin the night Valentine, Clary's father and Jace's adopted childhood father, had died. They were completely honest, only the details of the Angel Raziel's appearance had been slightly altered. Clary had decided the information that the Downworlders were souled, and thereby valuable to heaven, as instrumental. She and Jace, however, failed to mention both of them had been poisoned with Ithuriel's blood, thereby giving of them incredible abilities exceeding other Shadowhunters. Only a select few would be granted the knowledge, but they both agreed it would be best to keep that tidbit of information away from the Council for now.

The Clave, of course, knew of Clary's ability to create runes which were not in the Grey Book, the book given to the Nephilium by the Angel Raziel himself. Clary's runes were as old as Heaven itself.

She had created the rune Alliance that bound a Shadowhunter to a Downworlder, allowing them to share their powers. With the aide of that rune, they'd defeated Valentine's throng of blood thirsty demons he'd enslaved with the purpose of destroying the race of Shadowhunters, giving him the ability to start anew with the Mortal Cup.

It had been a long six months in many ways, for both Jace and Clary.

Jace had a hard time after the battle. He was trying to come to terms with his past and what his lack of identity meant for his future. Only a few facts remained true. He was not the son of Valentine; he was not poisoned with Greater Demon blood, and he was not Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern.

He was the son of Stephen Herondale, a man he'd never met. He'd been poisoned with the Angel Ithuriel's blood, which wasn't as disastrous as it'd first seemed to be. And he was…Jace Lightwood?

It was still hard for him to grasp the change, gauging if the new name fit or not. His adopted family, of course, had been more than willing to bestow him with their surname. They'd always thought of him as much, a Lightwood thru and thru. But the fact that he'd never really been given a rightful name made his adopted one feel different, unfamiliar and became a harsh reminder of the truth.

Clary tried to offer her support, comforting him every way she could. For the most part, she'd been successful. It's just that she, herself, had a lot to contend with.

Clary had begun full Shadowhunter training, a daunting and trying task in and of itself. Her vigorous training schedule mirrored that of a younger Shadowhunter whom had years to prepare themselves for. The instruction had been intense, causing her to second guess herself at every turn. Able to tolerate the fresh batch markings that were typically given to younger Shadowhunters, she found herself comfortable with the seraph blades in turn. The fighting, however, had been more difficult. She was strong, but her muscles were not conditioned the way they needed to be for fighting. Her body was constantly sore and throbbing after having a full day of combat with older, highly trained Shadowhunters. And she didn't know how much more she could force her body to take.

Jace helped with her training, just as he would once they returned to New York. She felt even more tired after a sparring match with him. He'd challenge her in ways that her other trainers wouldn't, making her leap higher, bend further, and fight with one blade against his two. She appreciated it, but always had a distinctive urge to kick his ass by the end of the day.

Yes, it'd made the past six months long and she was ready to leave for home. She missed the smells of New York City; the pizza cooking from the local pizzeria down the street, the car exhaust mixed with freshly brewed coffee, the never ending constant sound of life in the Big Apple.

And she missed Simon, her best friend, who'd returned to New York shortly after the battle. He needed a break from Idris and he had to situate his place among the New York vampire coven, led by Raphael. He came to visit a couple times, but she missed his everyday presence. They had been attached at the hip for many years, and she wished for the familiarity of his constant companionship. She was ready for home.

Tonight was their last night in Idris and Clary felt a little bittersweet about it. Jace had the idea to take a picnic out to Lake Loryin, to lay by the shore and enjoy the summer day before they caught a portal home. Neither of them carried weapons or anxiety in their posture, or were tense and ready for a fight. Idris was at peace.

She felt a twinge of anxiety lying next to Jace on the bank, his right hand under her neck to support her head as he kissed her. She knew why he wanted to be alone today, out in the vacant countryside where hardly a visitor would cross their path. Feeling a little anxious, she enjoyed the feel of his lips against heres; tonight would be their first time being intimate together, and Clary was both thrilled and terrified at the same time.

Jace would make a move and she wanted him to with every fiber of her being. But yet, she couldn't help the nerves from going haywire.

Her eyes where shut, her lips moving against his, soft and gentle. She could feel the line of his body along hers, slightly leaning over her, while she lay with her back completely against the blanket. She could feel his left hand cupping her waist, moving occasionally to her back. She felt content, blissful, and an overwhelming sense of joy in that moment.

"I love you." He paused their actions for the briefest moment to whisper the words in her ear. She smiled, eyes still closed.

"I know."

Rolling them so she way atop him, he laughed softly and stroked the hair behind her ear. His eyes gazed at her with such love and devotion, nothing in this world could ever take the moment away from them.

And yet . . . something had made it go away.

Clary awoke on the same blanket by the bank of the lake sometime later. The sun had started to come down in the sky and there was a chill in the air. She pushed herself up onto her hands, slowing coming to a sitting position, not understanding how she'd been able to drift off to sleep when they'd been in such an intimate moment.

Confused, Clary took in her surroundings. Jace was nowhere in sight. Feeling a pang in the back of her throat, her heart rate began to race. The familiar sense of uneasiness crept into her bones. Several scenarios flashed through her mind, thoughts of a returning Valentine, vengeful and blood thirsty. Or perhaps a surviving demon had taken him while he was defenseless, unarmed.

She became more panicked as she rose from the blanket, leaving the shore and heading over the hill to the vast countryside. Gasping and desperate, her eyes searched wildly until they found him staring out into the countryside with his back turned to her, his hands in his pockets.

Slowly, she approached, reaching out for the sides of his arms, tentatively rubbing toward his shoulders. She heard him sigh as he pulled her toward him, wrapping his arms around her. Her heart beat slowed and her anxiety stifled a bit.

"Hello my sleeping beauty," he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead.

"I am sorry I fell asleep," she mumbled. "I don't know what h-happened."

He laughed under his breath. "You were tired. It's been a long week. You ready to go home?"

"Home? You want to leave already?" Her heart sank to her stomach. How stupid could she have been? She'd fallen asleep...

Idiot! He was going to… Damn it!

His hold tightened around her, as if silently acknowledging her inner reprimand. He smiled, looking down at her.

"Well, it is getting late. And Maryse is cooking everyone dinner. And…I have a surprise for you at home."

Her heart beat quickened again and her spirits lifted.

Maybe it's not too late. Maybe he has something planned for tonight.

"Sure, let's head back."

They arrived a short while later at the home Jace shared with the Lightwoods: Maryse, Robert, Alec and Isabelle. They walked into the front door to find Jocelyn and Luke sitting in the living room, hand in hand. They looked up and greeted the young couple with smiles of warmth and welcome. Jocelyn got up from the coach, reaching out for her daughter. Luke rose and grasped hands with Jace.

Luke and Clary's mom, Jocelyn, had been inseparable. The three of them had been staying in a vacant home in Alicante since the battle. Luke wasn't the werewolf representative for the Clave Council, but they'd asked him to stay as an advisor through the past six months while the new Accords were written. Since the time spent in Alicante had allowed Clary to be trained by the Clave, Luke had agreed to stay for the six months. Both he and Jocelyn were highly respected among this new generation of Shadowhunters.

"He is in the kitchen," Luke said to Jace, a small smile tugging the corners of his mouth. Clary was confused.

The kitchen, who…?

Just then, the kitchen door swung open and Simon walked into the room. Clary squealed and ran towards her best friend. The smile that brightened her best friend's face could have lit the darkest of places. He welcomed her into his open arm, catching her in a huge hug that lifted her off her feet.

She laughed. "Oh my gosh! Simon! I can't believe you're here." He put her down and she turned on Jace.

"Was this my surprise, you turkey? Why didn't you tell me he was coming?" She smiled, reaching to smack Jace's arm.

"Why spoil the fun?" He grinned, leaning against the wall, both arms folded in front of him. "Now, let's eat! I'm starved." Grinning, he pushed away from the wall towards the patio, where dinner was to be served, mock-punching Simon in the shoulder as he walked by.

The patio was surrounded by a beautiful bouquet of blossoming roses, tulips, lilies and summer sages. Candles floated along the low brick wall that enclosed the patio, and along the large wrought iron table that sat in the middle.

Sounds of laughter filled the air. Isabelle sat next to Aline and Maia. Magnus and Alec shared the corner at the opposite end of the table, blue sparks flying from Magnus' finger tips as white lights appeared in the trees that enclosed the house, putting the final touches on the ambience.

"Maia, Magnus," Clary said, "It's so good to see you guys! What's the occasion?"

"Well," said Simon, approaching from the back door. "How did you think I got here? I hitched a ride with Magnus. And I told Maia I was coming and she decided to tag along."

"So glad you both are here," she smiled as Simon pulled out the chair next to her and sat down, placing his hand on her shoulder and smiled. Maryse walked into the patio, arms filled with bowls of food. Jocelyn followed with a tray of drinks and bottles of wine, and Amatis, Luke's sister, joined the group with yet more food. They placed the items in the center of the table.

"Enjoy!" Maryse announced. She touched the top of Jace's head lovingly as she passed behind him, walking to the other side of the table to take her seat. Clary had definitely seen an increase in maternal affection from Maryse towards Jace since the battle. Perhaps it was that she realized she wasn't raising Valentine's son all those years, but a true orphan who needed love and care. Perhaps it was because she missed her son Max, and was redirecting her maternal instincts on the children she did have left. Perhaps it was because she could see that Jace was truly happy with Clary, and she loved seeing her son happy. In any case, Clary was glad to see Jace's adopted mother show her affection for him. And it made the older woman seem less abrasive, a welcoming and heartened reality.

The night was pleasant. They ate and drank bottles of wine well into the evening. The three older women at the end of the table gossiped, Aline and Maia shared their favorite metal playlists with Simon, Isabelle critiqued the latest fashions with Magnus, while Alec and Luke talked Council politics.

Meanwhile, Clary found herself filled with many conflicting thoughts and emotions. Although she was so excited to see her friends from New York, she couldn't wait to be alone with Jace. It seemed that she couldn't sit close enough to him, their hands couldn't be intertwined hard enough, and the time began to seem endless.

As the night wore on, Amatis stood from the table, stretched, and announced that it was time for her to get to bed with rather slurred speech.

"I am not of the young, and this night is not either." She hiccupped and stumbled toward the door. Several people at the table chuckled at her demeanor, while others began to gather things from the table to bring into the kitchen. The night had been filled with friends and family, and it seemed that all of them were feeling the effects of the well-weathered wine.

Luke halted suddenly in his spot, a look of dread crept onto his features. He swore lowly under his breath as his ears elongated into that of his wolf heritage and his eyes widened. Amatis saw her brother's reaction and froze, as did Jocelyn.

Simon stood just as suddenly, listening with great intensity. Both Downworlders stared in the direction of the Gard.

"What…" Jace broke off, stopping in mid-sentence because at that moment, he'd heard it, too.

"Something has happened," Luke whispered. The night became utterly still, all attendees nervously waiting for someone to announce what was amiss.

Suddenly Luke growled a sound deep in the back of his throat as his eyes closed in perceived defeat. Jace pulled a blade hidden in his belt, gripping it tightly. The patio door opened.

It was Robert Lightwood, Jace's adopted father, covered in sweat and blood.

"He is dead. Luke he is dead. They've killed him."

"Robert!" Maryse screamed.

"Who is dead?" Jocelyn rose from her seat and crossed the table. Jace stepped in front of Clary protectively as she reached toward his arm. All eyes were on Robert, awaiting his answer.

"Marcus Darkwinter, the werewolf council member. They've killed him." It was Luke who'd answered. He'd heard it: the screaming from the Gard, the Shadowhunters running the streets of Alicante looking for the assassin.

Amatis hands flew toward her mouth to cover a gasp, as did Clary's. Maryse's face tightened the muscles in her jaw clenching. Maia closed her eyes, her head in her hands. Alec and Magnus stood still, watching Luke wearily. Jace looked toward the Gard, his right hand tight around the blade.

"They need you Luke," Robert said solemnly. "They are asking for you. They will need your help to fix this."

"Fix this?" Luke became incredulous. "There is no fixing a millennia of disdain and hate between the Downworlders and Shadowhunters, Robert. If it's folly, then it will remain to be. I can't change that." Clary looked down. She had seen that look on his face before, many times throughout her childhood. Jocelyn approached him, placing her hand on his elbow.

"We will both stay," she said, looking at him fully in attempt to get him to meet her eyes.

"I can't ask you or Clary to do that, to sacrifice both your lives for this," he responded, not meeting Jocelyn's eyes.

"Maryse?" Jocelyn asked numbly, her gaze fixed on Luke. "Clary?"

"Of course, she can stay with us and we will continue her training. Please, she is more than welcome."

Robert coughed, interrupting her train of thought.

"They need us as well, Maryse." He looked away while he explained. "There needs to be an investigation of all who were present…including me." Several whispers and glances were exchanged between the group while a few uncomfortable moments passed. Luke looked at Robert and saw that he appeared disconcerted, but for what reason he wasn't sure.

"I don't think you had anything to do with this Robert, if that's what you think." Luke assured him, his expression softening slightly. He paused and met Jocelyn's eyes.

Clary sat frozen in her seat as her mother and Luke had a silent conversation for several minutes. She became lost in her own mind. What could have happened? How? Who? The new council meant so much to those who wanted peace, those who fought against Valentine.

The night ended with hushed plans and quickly whispered theories. Tomorrow they would awake in yet another world in turmoil. This time, the enemy was unknown, and not one among them knew the next move.

AN: THIS STORY HAS BEEN RE-WRITTEN BY THE ORIGINAL AUTHOR. No, I didn't steal it. Just made it better, changed my penname, and reposted.

Dreams of the Cursed (Book #2) was released TODAY! Whoo hoo!

In celebration, I'm giving away a FREE signed paperback to one of my MI fanfic followers. Just "like" my author Facebook page and leave me this post.

"Hey Allie! I'm a Dreamer just like you. Send me a free book."

I will enter you into a drawing to win a signed paperback of Legacy of a Dreamer.

visit Allie for more info