A/N: I decided to just make this part of chapter 9 since its too short to be a real chapter and i dont really know :) Thanks so much to the reviews, everyone! :D ill try to do better and make it less tense and all :)

as always, reviews are love and without love, the world doesnt go round and round (and neither does this story) so review review review and ill update update update :D

This is GLAMOURS CHAPTER 9 PART 2 and it doesnt do much but go more into Clary again. (im trying to make it less dull, but in this part of the story, its mostly all narrative because i need to express Clary's feelings alot. o.O)

damn, this is becoming really long! hehehe

anyway, hope you guys like this chapter :D Read and review, but for now, REAAAAAADD~


Glamours;
a spell or energy of illusion used to hide or disguise beings

Apparently, when Jace said Luke wanted Clary to stay in Amatis' house for the rest of the day—he was actually planning on putting her there indefinitely; for the whole week, anyway.

Clary had the presumption everyone was up to something she did not understand, and as every day passed, she felt more and more agitated.

There were only less than two weeks left until the wedding, and everyone was buzzing; getting final preparations done, fixing the order of every little detail in the wedding reception and Clary was stuck at home, washing dishes for Amatis, or sitting down and doing nothing.

Clary often found herself sitting in front of Amatis' old coffee table, a pen at hand in case a thought for her speech for the reception would come (Clary wouldn't dare forget the speech she would have to make for her mother and Luke, welcoming them into life as a married couple), while staring with a fixed expression of confusion at the blank piece of paper spread out.

"You know that paper won't write itself, nor will it feel compelled to crumple into dust no matter how hard your gaze is" A voice bellowed from nearby.

Jace was a regular visitor of Clary's. He usually came around after lunch time, carrying a massive bag of fertilizer; he claimed it was something he enjoyed. But Clary knew better than to not assume that Jace must have bargained with Luke again. Negotiating with Jace so he could come see her each day, and torturing him while doing so, was one of Luke's minor hobbies.

Jace dropped the bad of poop outside in the garden before coming inside the small cottage. Wiping his feet on the rug, he walked over to the coffee table and peeked at Clary's paper.

Clary instinctively folded it, to save her the humiliation of letting him know she didn't have a single thing to say to them, and rose so that she leveled with his chest.

"How are things going at the church?" Clary asked him.

He grimaced. "Aline fainted during the second fitting of her dress—wouldn't be surprising seeing as that she hasn't been eating a proper meal since that seamstress said she gained an inch."

Clary looked down, silently thankful that her dress was already fine and not open to any corrections.

"Anything else?"

"Mm, nothing much. They're all basically running around the church and the Great Hall looking and screaming about stuff." Jace shrugged, gesturing an etc etc…

Clary sat back down, suddenly feeling very useless.

"Why can't I help?" It was supposed to be a rhetorical question, but Jace found an answer anyway.
"You are helping." Dumb, for Jace's standards, but Clary couldn't find herself caring.

"How?" she spat. "By strutting down the isle a few times, then get sent home to continue my training to be a housewife? How am I helping, Jace?"

"By keeping yourself safe." Something about what Jace was saying made Clary even angrier. Her emotions felt like they were rising to the surface, slowly, transcending as if it were an attempt to breath air.

"Oh, you mean by keeping me locked in here." There. The words flew out before Clary could stop them. She read the plain hurt in Jace's face as he cast his eyes to the floor, and Clary felt immediately ashamed of herself.

"I'm sorry; I know it isn't your fault. It's this stupid speech." Clary lied. "I don't know what the hell I'm going to say—it's getting in my head. Here, look at it, have a laugh."

She handed him the folded paper, but Jace did not laugh. He was silent for a few minutes even as he took a seat beside her, in front of the coffee table.

"Jace—"

"You're right."

Clary felt relief surge into her. She didn't know what she was right about, exactly, but hearing Jace's voice was good enough as anything to her.

"Really, I'm sorry—this damn speech and its – "
"You are being kept prisoner in here and you don't even know why. The only thing you know is that it's to keep you safe." Jace looked despondent.

"Jace… what…"

"Remember the dream you said you keep having? I've been thinking about it ever since you told me, and it's the main reason I keep coming here everyday, enduring the journey of carrying that sack of dirt, to check if you're still in one piece. Everyone is worried about you, ever since you collapsed in Isabelle's room and proclaimed that Sebastian was alive—surely, Clary, you wouldn't think that your family wouldn't want to protect you from what all this could possibly mean?"

Clary felt her stomach ease in. If the only reason they were keeping her in lock down was because of her own crazy dream that she could barely even remember, Clary wouldn't have it.

"Jace, don't trust me so easily. It isn't definite that the dream was true! I could be wrong, Jace! You could be worrying for nothing more than mass hysteria, for all we know!"

Jace touched her cheek and Clary felt the spot heat up immediately. The connection was so intimate Clary almost thought he was going to move in and kiss her.

"We can't continue denying this Clary." He moved closer to her, so when his voice dropped so she could hear his words more clearly. "Don't you trust yourself at all? After all we've been through, you know better than anybody what your own gut is telling you—Clary, if he is back, and it's true that he never died in the battle a year ago, then its better safe than sorry that we take precautions."

"I—Why—" Clary sighed, defeated, and just slumped so her head rested on his chest.

"I just want to do something." She whispered. "It's my mother's wedding, goddamnit. I want to do something!" Clary, despite her own anger, buried her head into Jace's chest and grabbed a fistful of his shirt.

"I doubt that antique coffee table could sustain both your weights. I mean, it is pretty old." A person said, amusement apparent in his voice.

Jace moved away from Clary while she jerked upright. Clary had no idea why she was so embarrassed, or why she was now fidgeting with her fingers a little.

Jace remained close but his eyes where no longer on her, but on the figure that leaned by the door frame.

Jace cleared his throat.
"Relieved from wedding duty early, I see." Jace was patently attempting innocence.

"Well, when the priest starts threatening you with fists, you know its time to pack up and let your wife-to-be do the talking." Luke gave a hearty laugh, looking from Clary to Jace, then back.

"Hey, don't think I like running into both of you when you do… that. But you both make it way too easy." A grin was spreading itself across his face, and Clary turned a light shade of scarlet, while Jace's mouth twitched into a smile.

"You see, the trick is control. You can't just take each other on the floor—in this case, the table—anytime of the day."

Clary had every right to tell him they weren't up to anything dirty; that Luke had it wrong—but Jace had seen the challenge in Luke's taunts, and spoke first.

"Ah, age has given you wisdom." Luke caught the 'you're old' implication and only half-succeeded in grinning broadly. Something told Clary Jace would be carrying more than just dirty manure next time he came around.

Before Jace could fire something again, Clary smacked his leg, and he stopped, wincing.

"Luke, we weren't up to anything. Just talking." Clary shot Jace a warning look, but he just grinned at her.

"Ah, dismissing our love so eagerly, my dear." He said melodramatically.
Clary hit him harder this time.

"Really. It's the truth Luke. Jace and I were just having a polite conversation."
"Funny way of being polite you two have— huddled up there on the floor, collected into each other's arms. Totally polite, I don't know why I could've thought otherwise."

He turned to Jace. "I am sorry for accusing you, falsely."
Jace replied, "Apology accepted."

Luke gave a light laugh before asking, "What were you two talking about then? Why was it so important to keep the conversation between just the two of you?"

All of a sudden, Clary felt Jace tense up and he replied defensively, "Clary was just showing me the speech she was going to say at the reception. We didn't want anybody to over hear it. It should be a surprise for you and her mother, after all."

Luke stared at the folded piece of paper on top of the table.

"Really? How far have you gotten through Clary?" Luke asked.

Clary was about to say 'not so far' but Jace answered for her.
"She's still revising a few lines."

Clary tried to control the gape her mouth was making; Jace was obviously bluffing.
He was also obviously hiding something from Luke. Luke chose to ignore the signs, though. He simply nodded understandingly.

"Ah, well, I'd love to see a few bits of it, but Maryse told me to pick up the arriving guests from other countries at the Gard—but I was allowed a short break." He smiled at Clary, and Clary already felt guilty.

"I came by to ask my dear sister if she'd let me take a bite out of those wonderful cupcakes I keep hearing about."

"Amatis is in the kitchen, if you're looking for her— or somewhere outside, tending to her garden, if she isn't there." Clary said.
On cue, the back door creaked open then shut, and Clary saw Amatis moving into the living room, her gloved hands covered in dirt.

"Or she could be standing right there." Jace said, earning another smack at his leg.
"Sorry about the gloves," Amatis fussed with them. "I tried washing the mess off, but they wouldn't come out unless I used soap."

She turned to her brother.
"What can I help you with, Lucian?"

"Ah, well, I was hoping to get a taste of those cupcakes before you send them off, first. You know, ahem, to assure the safety of those who may consume it." Luke used the high and mighty voice. Jace rolled his eyes, and Amatis raised her brow—though both of them looked fairly amused.

"Alright, but only one cupcake. I haven't got the ingredients to make extras, yet." Amatis walked over to the kitchen, gesturing him to follow.
Luke gleefully launched himself after her.

As soon as they were alone, Jace turned to Clary and whispered to her, "Luke can't know I told you, alright? I should only be making sure you feel comfortable and not suspicious during your stay here—"

Clary stared at his eyes, with quite an intensity, the gold in them almost burned.
"How's that working for you?"

"Oh God Clary, sarcasm won't get you anywhere with me." He whispered further. "And keep your voice down."
"Jace, just tell me why can't I do something to help with the wedding? I can keep myself safe, I—"

"I knew you would say something like that." He butted in, a whine in his voice.
Clary felt the anger rise again. "Well, it's true! I'm not entirely disabled and if you keep me cooped up in here longer Jace, I swear I will—"

"These are delicious! Sister, I didn't know you cooked! Baked… whichever! Yes…I think this calls for a second round of inspection…" when Luke made an attempt to reach for another cupcake, Amatis slapped his hand away.

"Only one!" she scolded. "Here, take the rest of the batch over to the chapel for other Jocelyn. She'd want to taste them first, and I'll try to keep the sugar in check next time…"

Luke nodded, sadly taking the untouched cupcakes. He surveyed Jace and Clary.

"You two look a little flustered." Luke stated rather accusingly.
"Great eye sight for an old fellow." Jace said.

Luke puffed out a laugh, and turned to his sister.
"Mind if I take your manure-boy from your hands for a few hours?" Luke said, gesturing to Jace. (Jace scoffed when he said "manure boy")

When Amatis asked why, Luke answered, "Rev. Tom wanted him to go through the song selection again. He wants him to practice with a choir present, though we did try to persuade him that we'd like it simply instrumental—he was as hard as rock in his decision to put a choir." He turned to Jace. "Oh, and on the way, there's this nice pot shop we have to swing by—my old bones could really use a hand in lifting all those potted flowers for the Reception décor." Luke added, an evil expression his face. There was a heavy price for calling Luke Graymark an 'old man', after all.

Amatis nodded and walked over to the kitchen again, probably to wash her gloves.
"Say good bye to Clary now." Luke said, slyly.

Jace turned to her and kissed her on the cheek. Clary was still unresponsive because of their heated argument awhile ago.

"Listen, I'll see you later, alright?" Clary looked at him, and saw he tried hard to make himself look slightly happy and she sighed.
"Yeah, sure." When Jace was about to turn around and follow Luke, Clary said again, "Jace…"

He stopped half way, and turned to look at her again. He looked convincingly innocent and angelic.
Clary sighed longer this time.

"Never mind… see you later." She finished.

Jace nodded solemnly then walked after Luke who was already by the door. As soon as they were clearly out of ear shot, Clary let out one giant groan.

"Ugh, why does he always keep doing that???!!"

Hitting the coffee table with her hands made a small thud, and Clary could tell by the pain that she'd see a bruise on her knuckles later on. But she was really too frustrated to care.

She was on the verge of letting out a monstrous yell when a voice said, "Something wrong dear?"

Clary didn't expect anyone to hear her; she had quickly assumed that when Jace and Luke went out, she would be completely alone with herself. She had completely forgotten Amatis was still in the house! Clary felt herself freeze over, and suddenly, what she was saying dawned on her. She must have sounded completely and out-of-control pissed—added to the embarrassment, she noticed that Amatis' old coffee table was limping slightly where she had hit it.

"Oh, I'm sorry Amatis—I'm fine, I was—I just—"

Amatis shook her head. "Oh, don't make excuses, girl." Clary wasn't sure she heard correctly, but Amatis sounded a little cold.

"I'm really, really sorry about the coffee table, Amatis… I didn't mean to, I was—"

"The coffee table? Oh…" Amatis's face looked punctured as she saw the table sway slowly.

Clary felt even worse now.

"I'm really really sorry, It—It was an accident."
"I know it was, Clary." Amatis remained where she stood, her eyes still on the table.

After that neither of them said anything for awhile. They just stayed in place. Clary couldn't bear it, so she stood, but Amatis said something which made her resist running up the stairs and burying herself in embarrassment.

"You don't like being left behind in all the activities, and in my opinion, girl—you lasted a lot longer than I would have. You may have a temper—but you certainly know how to control and release it." She looked at Clary's folded piece of paper which held the contents of her speech (which was absolutely nothing.)

"There's nothing in there, is there?" Amatis almost sounded like she was laughing.
"I don't have to tell you, do I?"

Amatis looked at her, and Clary gulped. But Amatis's eyes tilted upward and her mouth began to open… and then she began to laugh.

It was a wonderful sight, Clary thought. Amatis looked ages younger when she didn't look crestfallen or serious. She had the same nose as Luke, but prettier and smaller. Whenever her lips quivered, dimples would show on both sides of her face, and Clary thought, as a young girl, Amatis must have been a beautiful lady.

When she clearly sobered out, Clary was still there, staring at her.
"I'm sorry," Amatis quickly composed herself. "I haven't had a good laugh in awhile."

Clary managed to smile timidly at her, and the atmosphere got less uncomfortable—but in turn became a little awkward.

She and Amatis never really spoke so much before.

"So, are the desserts for the wedding doing well?" Clary tried to change the subject of her partly destroying the antique coffee table.

Amatis nodded professionally. "Yes, I only need to make a few more batches of the butternut bars and the main courses aren't my problem yet, not until the eve before the wedding."

"Sounds busy."
"I'm having the time of my life."

Clary laughed, for real. When Amatis looked at her, she almost looked kind.

"Do you, er, like to cook?" Amatis asked.
Clary laughed. Her cooking skills weren't as good as any Five Star chef's but she was proud that, atleast, it was much better than Izzy's.

"I think Luke and Jace would make it a point that I'm totally undomestic. Simon would affirm it."

"It is…quite fun. When you have nothing to do…"
"I'm listening."

Amatis laughed again. Clary could get used to the sound.
"When you have nothing to do," she repeated. "I could—if you want—I could teach you. If you want."

"Is it ok with you?" Clary asked.

There was a glow in Amatis' eyes, Clary kept admiring.
"It's nice to have some company."

Clary pretended to think it through, then smiled at Amatis.
"I'll take it! Only if you teach me how to make those cupcakes!"

Amatis smiled, revealing those dimples again.
"Alright then," She was hiding the pleasure and excitement in her voice, but Clary caught it.

"Alright then." Clary mimicked.
"Well," Amatis said. "Do you know how to make the yeast?"

"No clue."
"We'll have to work on that." Amatis beamed.


FINAL A/N: seeeee? im totally working on not making it all depressing :D yay! hahaha anyway, that's the update. :D Have to make chappie 10 eventually, and im hoping against all odds, i could finish it by this month :D (wish me luck)

constructive criticism is welcome, and also comments and insites too :D i enjoy reading those!

Oh, if you have a ffnet acc, i may reply to you (im going to try and open ffnet more often now...) im sorry for those reviewers i never got a chance to thank properly...so here, THANK YOU! -glomps you-
I love your reviews so tell me if you think i need to improvise a few parts or fix a few crappy lines :) (lets not go to fixing the attitude of the characters. IM NOT CASSANDRA CLARE, so i dont need to go with the characters' REAL PERSONALITY if i dont want to :D)

Ok? im a FANFIC writer, not a god! (i cant please all of you :))

Well, this is where i stop, cya guys! :D -xoxo-