Hello again :) so this is just something thats been hanging around my computer for a while, at the moment it's a one-shot. But if anyone wants me too i don't mind adding more to this, just ask/suggest anything you want to see. Enjoy :)

Disclaimer: all characters and themes belong to Cassandra Clare. come on if i owned Jace, would i be on my computer right now?

Maryse Lightwood walked ahead of me into the room, closing the door behind her. Probably to announce my arrival to her children. Isabelle, Alexander and Max she'd told me their names and what little information I'd need to form some sort of a conversation with them, on the short journey from the remains of my home, to hers. Her husband Robert was still in Idris collecting what little of my belongings remained. Idris the thought of Alicante still made me sick with longing. This world was so, mundane. Desperate to cut off the chain of my thoughts, I stared quickly at the wooden door in front of me. But as I thought of wood, I thought of fire. And that resurfaced memories that I'd rather keep buried, for as long as possible. As I stared at the old fashioned door I thought one thing. My father would have despised it. He hated old things. He once told me that remembrance was the folly of the weak.

As the old wooden door opened, I spun on my heels, pretending to admire a particultly drab tapestry that hung on the wall there. When, in fact I was quickly erasing all evidence of the traitorous tears that, dared to appear in my eyes.

"Jonathan, would you like to come in?" Maryse spoke with the tone of voice that you'd use with an animal you didn't want to frighten. Or provoke. Sensing that this was more of a command than a question, I strolled into the room, wearing a confidence that I didn't feel.

The room where her family were waiting could only be a study or office. The tall walls were lined with bookcases, overflowing with all kinds of literature, I instantly liked this room. Sitting in an armchair was, judging by Maryse's sum-up description, Alexander. He had sleek, pitch black hair that fell just short of his eyes. Which were the colour of the sky in summer. His skin had a very pale colouring which only worked to make his hair more striking. He has a slim build which would have normally made him look less threating, if he wasn't a shadowhunter. The beginnings of the open eye rune on the back of his right hand only proved this. Perched atop the oak desk was who could only be Isabelle. Her hair fell in black curtains past her shoulders, the exact shade of her brothers. Her eyes however were the colour of dark chocolate. Full pink lips adorned her face setting off her high cheekbones. I suppose, when she grew some, she could have been considered beautiful, but my mind wasn't concerned with such things at the moment. Her large oval eyes were framed with dark lashes, which looked as if they would have brushed the tops, of what would soon be, structured cheekbones when she blinked.

Maryse was the first to speak, "Alexander, Isabelle this is Jonathan Wayland. Remember I told you he was coming to live with us." They acknowledged their mother with understanding nods of their heads.

"I am very grateful Mrs Lightwood," I replied, more out of common curtsy than anything. Besides if my father had known I wasn't being grateful in the correct circumstances then he would have locked me in the hallway cupboard until I behaved properly.

"Call me Maryse. Please. Your father and I were good friends; I want you to feel at home here."

"Okay, Maryse," her words startled me a little; I couldn't imagine anyone being good friends with my father.

She smiled at me in return, but it looked forced. As if that smile took a lot of effort to stay on her face.

"Jonathan, I'll leave you and Alexander and Isabelle to talk, Alexander will you show Jonathan his room later please? I need to check on Max."

Max was their younger brother then, much younger.

"Yes, mom" he replied. Looking slightly bored, but the curiosity in his eyes was unmistakable. My father had taught me to read faces at a young age. He claimed that, many battles were lost because the fighters couldn't see into their opponent's souls.

"I'll help" Isabelle chipped in, seeming eger to get some attention from her parents; she must not get noticed much. That, I could relate to.

"Yes, thank you Isabelle. I'm sure you will."

"Maryse?"

"Yes Jonathan?" she inquired.

"Could you not call me Jonathan? It feels so formal" that, was all I needed and didn't need at that moment.

"Of course" she paused, thinking, "Jace?" she seemed relieved at something that I couldn't place.

"That will do I suppose," I said giving her a small, sly grin. That earned me another forced smile. With that she brushed out of the room.

Turning to face my new siblings, of a sort, I thought of how silly I must look and straightened up looking them square in the eye. Just as my father taught me. I said almost nervously, which was absolutely ridiculous, "Hello, Alexander, Isabelle."

"Alec" he murmured, a faint blush tinting his pale cheeks.

"Sorry?" I replied.

"Call me Alec," he said a little braver.

"Okay, hello Alec," I said with a small smile in his direction. He returned my smile with equal measure. This may work, I thought to myself. My smile widening, if only slightly.

Review? Please, *cheesy grin* i'd just like to say thanks to all the people who reviewed my other storys. thank you :) i'm sending you all e-hugs right now. :) 3 xoxo