We've reached it, lovelies. It's been a dramatic ride, a whirlwind of ups and downs, but here is the final conclusion, the final moment. I know I've loved sharing this with you, and I hope that you've come to love these characters as much as I have. If you're a past reader of any of my stories, you already know that 21 reviews earns a bonus scene, so this is the official end, but possibly not the entire end. Anyway, please enjoy.

The Shadow Wars

Chapter 25: Hope is for the Victorious

Songs:

Part 1: Time Will Be The Healer - Glen Hansard

Part 2: Wandering Child - Wild Rivers

"What do we do now?" Clary whispers as the door to their apartment closes softly behind them. There's a scuffle as they work to drop their weapons and kick off their boots. Jace can see her swaying slightly on her feet, woozy from the heavy creams Magnus had applied to their ichor-encrusted wounds minutes before. He cups her cheek gently, running his thumb across her cheekbone before placing a soft kiss on her lips. Jace has never kissed her like this before, one filled with so much hope and peace and acceptance, like for once, he's certain there will be a tomorrow, and for once, he's happy about it.

"Now, we shower and sleep. And then we figure out what to do with this." He produces the pyxis, pinched between his thumb and forefinger, glinting lightly in the dying light as he inspects it with a scrutinizing gaze. Any response or input Clary might have is drowned out by the sound of air rushing toward them, like a million fans blowing down on them at high speed. It's a ringing noise, resonating through her brain as she doubles over, plugging her ears as her lips part in a silent scream. Jace struggles through the wind to reach her, wrapping one arm around her waist as she becomes blinded by a white light. The rune on her chest pulsates with comforting emotions, but Clary's head feels as if it is about to explode. She blindly weaves her fingers through Jace's, unable to see even her own body in a light this bright.

Is this what death looks like? Had they not survived as they once thought? Was the terror and turmoil only beginning?

As suddenly as it began, the chaos stops. Jace grips Clary tighter as their sight returns, his breath catching in confusion. They are in the field beside their cottage, the grass wet and dewy beneath their bare feet. "How the fuck-?" Clary elbows Jace in the ribs before he can finish his though, directing his attention upward.

A man—an angel—looms above them, forty feet tall in this vacant prairie. His long hair is silver, streaked gold in the sunset, matching the peculiar runes that shine gold like the one Clary had given Jace. His eyes, as they meet hers, are solid gold, unlike Jace's in that they have no pupil, no white. Clary swallows hard, clinging to Jace's hand for support as her heart jackhammers against her ribcage. His face is beautiful, more beautiful than any face she'd seen on a mortal, even on the man beside her. And then she realizes that the noise had come from the broad, golden wings stretching out from the angel's back, each feather marked with a single, staring eye. My children, he greets, his mesmerizing face lifting into a smile. All at once, Clary feels at peace beneath this angel's watchful gaze, somehow knowing he means them no harm.

"Raziel?" Jace questions, though it's more a projection of his thoughts than something he wants an answer to. The angel nods, and even that motion is languid, flowing and graceful. Even his feathers are still in the slight breeze, like he's manipulating the weather around him, or maybe like he's not really there at all. "I believe you've come for this." There's awe in Jace's voice, but also a quiver as he extends the pyxis toward the angel. Instead of grabbing the box, Raziel lifts the pair up on his palm, vaulting them through the sky until they are level with his face.

The pyxis disappears from Jace's hand, and while normally Clary would be alarmed, she can't feel anything but calm as she's enveloped in golden light. You have served me well. Your efforts will not go unrequited. Clary and Jace are too stunned to speak, clinging to each other as Raziel lifts his other palm. Four figures laced with gold take shape, smiling as they appear. "M-mom?" Jace says, and Clary's eyes trail the woman, tall and lean with strawberry curls and brilliant blue eyes. Raziel's placed them all on the ground, and Clary releases Jace's hand as he runs to Celine, burying his face into her shoulder. His own body wracks with sobs as she shushes him gently, soothingly like only a mother can.

"My boy," she whispers, holding him at an arm's length. "My beautiful baby boy." She dusts a tear from Jace's cheek before smoothing a golden lock of hair from his face. "I'm so proud of you." His hands grip her to make sure she's real, solid before him.

"I saw them…I couldn't…I…" he stammers, but she places a finger to his lips.

"Shhhh, none of that now." One of the other figures rests a heavy hand on Jace's shoulder, the proud smile of a father on his lips. Jace embraces this man, too, tightly, bone-crushingly, though neither complain.

"You've become a great warrior, son," Stephen murmurs, holding his son like he might disappear at any moment. "But you've become a better man." Joyful sobs erupt from this small family as they embrace, lost in their own little bubble, oblivious as a woman with crimson curls emerges from behind.

"Mom?" Clary calls, running into the woman's waiting arms. Jocelyn catches her, twirling her in a circle as their tears dampen both their shirts. "Are you really here?"

"I'm really here, baby," Jocelyn whispers into her daughter's hair, pulling the curls through her fingers the way she'd done when Clary was a child. "I've never left you, Clary." Clary can't get a word out between her cries, clutching her mother, inhaling the familiar jasmine perfume Lucian had given her for their wedding anniversary.

"How?" she finally asks when her chest has settled. "You're….you're….you died." Jocelyn puts her hands against Clary's shoulders, holding her away so she can look at how much her daughter has grown. Before Jocelyn answers, there's a small voice from behind them all, confused and nervous. Clary whirls to see a boy with messy brown hair and knobby knees pushing a pair of glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Max!" Jace and Clary take off running at the same time, scooping the trembling boy into their arms and showering him with hugs and kisses.

"W-what is happening?" the little boy asks, rubbing his eyes with his fists and sending his glasses askew once more. Jace fixes them for him before clutching him close once more. Finally, Raziel reminds the group of his presence.

Clary and Jace, you've shown great dedication and perseverance in the elimination of Valentine. This one has decimated an entire galaxy and almost eliminated entire populations. Your success was not in vain, but it was not without sacrifice. Jace glances around at the soft smiles these ghosts are giving him. I am only strong enough to bring two back to the earthly plane. Jace's smile falters as he reaches out for his mother's hand, clutching it to still the shaking.

"We're okay, son," Stephen tells him with conviction. "We are not alone over here. We will wait to be reunited again."

Jace's composure cracks again as they put their arms around him. "I only just got you back," Clary can hear his agonized whisper, clinging to her own mother with one arm and Max with the other.

"We aren't going anywhere, baby," his mother says gently, pushing curls behind his ear. "We will always be with you. We will be together again." The Herondales nod at the bright angel embracing their son one last time before a shimmering veil drops once more, hiding them from sight. "We love you, Jace."

Clary can see Jace is fighting the urge to scream, to run to the spot his parents had just been. His shoulders are stiff, muscles coiled, until Max trots over and yanks at the edge of his shirt, looking up at him with big, brown eyes. "Do I get to see mommy and daddy now?" Max asks, and Jace lifts the boy off the ground, rocking him back and forth.

"Yes, Maxie. You do."

X.O.X.O.X

Wandering Child – Wild Rivers

Jace follows Clary as she sprints into the Idrisian summer, her skirts lifted revealing dirtied pale feet as her hair whips in the wind she's creating. The sun kisses her skin gold, reddening the freckles that run across the bridge of her nose and spill onto her cheeks. He's content to watch her splash into the little lake, turning toward him with sparkling green eyes and a grin that crinkles their corners. The air is hot, pressing down on him like a quilt as he trails behind in his black gear. Six weeks had passed since the battle of Lake Lyn, six weeks since Valentine gifted him the new scar centered between his shoulder blades, since Raziel had taken the pyxis and lifted the veil to bring Jocelyn and Max home.

Celebrations lasted for weeks, joyous outcries at the beloved king and queen's return, at the defeat of Valentine, at the peace in the universe. Clary had been happy to regain her title as princess, and the moment she'd placed the crown on her mother's head, she'd grabbed Jace's wrist and sprinted through the woods to her favorite place in Idris.

She's hanged her linen dress on a tree branch where it sways softly in the breeze and in her crimson curls resurface off the shore, her body bobbing between the waves. "Come on, Jace!" she bellows, her laughter tinkling like bells in the air. Jace kicks off his boots and his jeans, following it with his t-shirt as he wades in beside her. He can see her reflection in the water, all pale and pure as she spits a mouthful of water into his face, laughing hysterically before he dunks her beneath the surface. Her carefree spirit has returned now that the weight of the worlds has been lifted from her shoulders, and he has to admit, it is contagious and intoxicating. "I love you," he murmurs against her lips as he pulls them deeper into the water, cool against their sunburned skin.

In the distance, the cottage sits, partially hidden behind the bigger house Jace had built for Clary. The winters in this part of Idris are survivable, and Jace can fend off any wild animal threatening to attack. With the threat of Valentine gone, neither Jace nor Luke had qualms about Clary sleeping above ground.

"I love you, too."

"Get a room!" Isabelle yells, emerging from the trees with a towel draped over her arm, Simon hot on her heels. Max is talking Simon's ear off about comic books and superheroes, and Simon seems just as interested in the conversation. A new diamond ring glints in the sunshine on her finger as Simon's eyes trail her motions with the same loving gaze Jace often finds himself giving Clary. Izzy and Simon had grown close over the months, though with the chaos of Kaelie's potions and kidnappings, Clary hadn't had much time to pay attention and was surprised when Isabelle asked her to be a bridesmaid.

Behind them come Alec and Magnus, their conjoined hands swinging between them without a second thought. They'd gotten together after the war, said 'to hell with everyone else' and decided to finally be who they truly are. "Allie!" Jace calls out to his brother and splashes him, who responds with an icy blue eyeroll. They float and swim in the water all day until the nighttime chill drives them into Clary and Jace's new home, gathered around a roaring fire. Max is asleep in Jace's lap, and Isabelle is dozing on Simon's shoulder. Alec is having a heated debate with Simon about crossbows, and Simon, who obviously disagrees, is struggling to keep himself still as to not wake his fiancée. Magnus is watching Alec from an armchair, warming his toes and the smile on his face.

The door opens to reveal Luke and Jocelyn, who each carry a pack of bottled beer, distributing them among those gathered. "When are you going to give me grandkids to fill this empty house?" Luke asks, and Jace almost chokes on his drink, sputtering for a response. "I'm kidding…well kinda…remember it's the law."

Clary rolls her eyes, patting her father's knee as he settles into the couch beside her. "Yes, Dad. We know." Jocelyn bursts out in laughter, rousting Max who promptly scuttles to his feet and bows to the king. Luke smiles and rustles Max's already messy hair. Clary intertwines her fingers with Jace's, leaning back and marveling at the fact that somehow…somehow they'd all survived this mess. Even the king of hell himself could not pull them apart, and as Jace smiles at her with his chipped incisor on full display, Clary knows that nothing ever will.

There it is. This story has been my baby, my pride and joy for over two years. Thank you for taking this adventure with me.

All My Love

~BallinBlonde21