So...this happened. I thought of the idea of a dark Clary, or well a Clary raised by Valentine. I read a fanfic my best friend wrote and she told me I should definitely write one. So here it is! It'll be a lot harder since I'm doing three stories write now so since this is the prologue I'll be adding the first chapter at the bottom! ❤️ Tell me what you think in the reviews!
2/28/17
EDIT: Hey guys so I was about to actually start writing a new chapter for this story then decided to reread it before. Well I read this chapter and was horrified with how choppy it is and how many errors there are.
So I've decided to edit and rewrite a few things, adding a bit here and there.
So I definitely suggest rereading the chapters as I progress.
ALSO I'M SO SORRY FOR MY ABSENCE. I've been busy with school, sports and my slightly existent social life. As well as going through something very hard. Thank you guys for trying to stick with me, I feel super bad :( ❤️
Prologue
The dark man runs down the corridors, winding through them, a silence rune etched on his ankles to make sure no one hears his footsteps sprinting down the hall.
She would be his, no one was going to take that from him, someone would have to kill him to make him stop.
He must get Clarissa before anyone saw him, he would not fail. Failure was not an option at this point.
His thoughts grinded to a halt when he thought about his wife. She loved him and he loved her, but she betrayed him and the Circle. There was no possible way that he could ever forgive her. Especially after practically kidnapping his own children and running away with them.
His fingers find the hilt of his sword, still in its sheath, just to make sure it was there and continues to sprint down the surprisingly long corridor. He hadn't been in an Institute in a while but he hadn't remembered them being this long. He knew he didn't have much time before Jocelyn would be up to check on her dear children. One of his inside men who lived here with them, told him she woke up around the same time every night to check on both Jonathan and Clary, he had to somehow get her out before.
He slammed to a stop, almost running straight past the room he needed. The door was like all the others with the exception of a piece of paper taped low on the door, a toddler's handwriting was hard to decipher but he thought it said something like Clary's room. Most likely Jonathan unless Clary was already that advanced at two years old. Perhaps if he was lucky.
He open the door quietly making sure it wouldn't make a sound. He looks around the dark room and his dark eyes finally land on a brown crib sitting directly under a window with a light curtain, it let a sliver of moonlight project onto the wooden floor.
He stalks up to the wooden crib, the baby asleep sucking her tiny thumb in a deep sleep. He let his hands down, wrapping around her and pulling her into his arms. Her little face frowned, letting her thumb drop out of her mouth as he began to move and find his device, she opened her eyes slowly. When she was fully awake she looked at him with a bit of curiosity in her eyes. He was delighted to see they were a perfect green with flecks of brown in the iris.
"Hello Clarissa." He speaks softly, not wanting to frighten the little girl since his wife was next door.
His thoughts suddenly drifted to who his wife was with. With Lucian. That mutt. He knew he should've killed his former parabatai when he had the chance, he shouldn't have let him go in the first place. The baby's babbling shakes him out of his musing.
Clarissa stares at him with her wide colorful eyes, then speaks a bit of gibberish, wiggling in his large arms. "Let's go home, shall we?" He speaks, holding the little girl a bit tighter in his grasp and pulling out the note he wrote up before he came.
If taking her child won't shock her into submission, then this note will. He will stop at nothing to get his family back together, whatever it took, and nothing to get the Clave under his control. No this time his Circle wouldn't fall, they would succeed and this time they had their own secret weapons to ensure it.
As he put the note in the middle of the crib, the scrawling words face up, the door creaked open. Valentine positions Clarissa so he has one hand on his device, something his warlock had came up with incase of emergency, it would get him out of somewhere and teleport him quickly home. It was also unseen on any of the Clave's radars, they had no clue he was even alive either.
"Clary?" A tired toddler voice starts. "Are you-". The boy stops when he sees him, suddenly wide eyed. It was no doubt that this was his son Jonathan, he looked exactly like him except for Jocelyn's bright green eyes. He had his same fair hair and facial bone structure as well as his sharp jawline, though it was covered a bit by the boy's baby fat. Jonathan's eyes were more like Jocelyn's a bright emerald green, Clarissa's were less bright with an dark evergreen color.
The little boy's mouth dropped open with shock, his muscles stiff with shock and his face was tied up in confusion, frowning at the man. His eyes were suddenly filled with fear. It was apparent that the boy was frozen in shock, he was surprised he hadn't screamed for anyone yet.
"Why, hello Jonathan." Valentine tries to smile sweetly at his son even though the more he stares at him, he can see it was a failed experiment. When Jocelyn was pregnant with Jonathan, Valentine had injected her with angel ichor frequently. Even at four or five years old Jonathan should be stronger, more powerful than any other shadowhunter child but right now, it was clear he was like any other child.
Jonathan doesn't reply, simply backing out of the room so slowly as if Valentine would attack him if he moved too quickly. Valentine lets him, even if he calls for his Jocelyn, Valentine could be long gone in two seconds.
Though now that he thinks about it, he wanted Jocelyn to come, he wanted to see the look on her face when she saw what was in his arms. The girl was surprisingly calm, just looking around in curiosity and babbling words he couldn't understand, though he could tell she was trying to tell him something.
"Mommy! Luke!" Jonathan shrieks, his face flushed red with either fear or anger. He was holding his ground which is surprising for a small boy, though his muscles looked like they wanted to run away screaming.
A door bangs open a bit down the hallway and footsteps come running. Valentine leans lazily against the side of the crib as Clarissa played with the strings on his black trench coat.
"Jon? What is it?" He hears a voice that almost makes him weak. His Jocelyn. "Why are you up this late in Clary's room?"
Jonathan makes a sniffling noise, making words he can't hear. He watched the little boy point inside the room. Jocelyn pushes through the door but stops right in her tracks when her eyes lock onto him. He knows that the entire institute could have been woken up from Jonathan's shouts but he couldn't care less, just the look on his wife's face made up any type of fighting he may have to do.
Her face visibly paled in the black darkness, portraying her shock and fear. Valentine's mutated parabatai was closed behind her, shock and soon anger adoned his features. He fled down the hallway, going to get whatever he wanted to most likely try and fight him off. He could very well try, but even though Lucian was both an ex-shadowhunter and a Wolf, he couldn't beat him.
"Valentine." Jocelyn chokes out, her eyes flicker from his face to her daughter who looks at her mother, waving at her, not feeling any of the tension in the room.
"My Jocelyn." He announces, smiling with feigned sweetness to see his wife.
"I'm not your anything." She practically snarled like an animal. "Put down Clary." Her hands bunched into tight fists, looking to be aching for a weapon.
"Clary...What a terrible name. I like Clarissa better." He pretended to think for a moment. "Better yet I would have named her Seraphina." He looks at his daughter lazily, not once has she cried in the whole time he had her in his arms, not even with her brother shrieking. He may not have a lot of experience with children but he does know Jonathan cried daily until he left the Manor.
"But no, I don't think I will." He smirked. "I've already lost too much time with dear Clarissa here, perhaps another time." His fingers gripped onto the device, pushing the button. He tightened his grip slightly on his daughter as they faded away.
His dear redhead lunges, grabbing for her daughter but only meeting their projection.
.
Thirteen years later
Clarissa.
"Harder Clarissa. You're not trying." Her father yells from beside her as she chucks the knife at the target with all the determination in her body, her arm stretches uncomfortably and she tries not to wince.
I am trying, can't you see? She thinks bitterly. Though she wants to please him, it makes her day when he says something nice about her training, he pushes her hard. Even when he does compliment her, which is few and far between, the amount of work she has to do doesn't make up for a few meager words. Oh what she would give for a day where she could sleep in and eat all day and not have to get out of bed at all.
Valentine smacks her heavily upside her head, causing her to her to jump out of her head. "Focus!" He shouts in her ear. She tries not to sigh too loudly as she repeats the throwing of the daggers until she runs out and she can't fit anymore on the middle of the target.
He nods to her approvingly, walking toward the weapons wall. Clarissa goes to the target and collects all fifty knives she threw and lays them on the counter, having to clean them later before putting them away.
Her father suddenly turns around, blind sighting her with a sword but she catches it easily with her heightened abilities. "Quickly, Clarissa, we can't have slow reflexes fighting." He scolds.
She grinds her teeth, what are you talking about? I just caught your own sword in a millisecond. She thinks bitterly. She loves her father and he loved her, he was definitely as devoted to his daughter as he was of his own Circle. But sometimes she wanted to smack his condescending smirk off of his face, like now for example. She takes a deep breath, untensing her body and getting loose.
Her father takes her pondering mind as an advantage and swings his longsword at her head. She parries him with hers easily, knocking him back a few steps. She never seized to amaze him, she knew it too especially by the surprised look he had on his face.
Back in his day, he was the best Shadowhunter of his generation, no one could compete with him. That was Clarissa's goal, she wanted to be as good as her father. She wanted everyone to know who she was and that she was the best, most of all she wanted people to be afraid of her, to know what she could do if someone tried to walk all over her.
She throws a quick, hard jab at his ribs and he blocks it slower than she ever would, she decides against making a joking scold at him. But he still blocks the iron from killing him.
This goes on for a while before Clarissa pins him to the floor, his own sword pointing toward his neck. He would be mad if it was any other person but since it's his daughter, he's very much impressed.
"That's enough for today." He said, grabbing his daughters hand and regaining his footing. "I have an assignment for you, go shower and get into your gear." Valentine tells his daughter. Her eyes widen, this wasn't a normal occurrence at all. He never allowed her to go out alone, saying it was too dangerous for an untrained soul as herself, which as odd since she was better trained than someone twice her age.
"Yes father." She says, grinning widely. She rushes out of the training room, a shot of adrenaline running through her tired muscles. She runs through the manner, almost running into a maid on the way. She was too excited to give her her usual snapping, instead she just ignored her getting to her room in an instant.
She took a quick shower, scrubbing and washing her hair quickly before drying her body and hair. She opened her dresser, only with a towel on and pulled out the beautiful red gear. It was a special gift her father got her when she turned ten. His warlock friend put an enchantment on it so she never grew out of it.
The metal and armor is a dark red while all the rest of the leather and buckles were an obsidian black. It felt amazing on her, nothing like the stiff gear her father forced her in before she turned ten.
She throws it on and starts to put her damp, frizzy red hair into a sloppy bun on her head. Then she decides better of it, drying it better and straightening it. After she does so, she pulls it into a tight ponytail; she hated putting it up and pulled away from her face, but it was a requirement by her father. Her hair fell down to her lower back, she hadn't cut it since she was attacked by a Greater Demon when she was younger since she still used her hair as a curtain for her face.
She shutters as the memories flood into her mind, it still haunted her. She still has the scar to show for it. Thick, white scars wrap around her left side of her rib cage and three parallel claw marks go down her right side. A thin paling scar, that refuses to go away no matter how hard her father tries, still covers the space from her left temple to her jaw because of that demon, though you can barely see it unless she blushes or she has her hair up, she was still awfully self conscious of it and wanted it covered whenever she met new people or was even around the manor.
She shakes her head, finally rushing out of her room and almost sprinting to her father's study. She knows that this mission won't be earth shattering and difficult but she was still excited to get out of the mansion. Her father would be much too worried something would happen to her to put her on an overly dangerous mission. She would assume it was a retrieval or something, or perhaps a vampire nest raid, neither of those were something difficult for her.
"I see you've showered and changed." Her father nods approvingly once she arrives in her father's study. His eyes drift to her scar that was openly showing since her hair was up and she didn't bother with makeup. His lips fall into a pursed line. She knows he hates it, mostly because it damages her beautiful face. It was probably why she was so self conscious about it, he often told her to cover it up. Luckily today was not like that and she was not forced back to her room to hide it.
"This mission isn't too difficult, especially for your first one." Valentine starts, stepping out of his chair and pacing, a nervous habit. "There's a horde of demons leaking through the woods by the glass city." He motioned her over to his map and pointed where he wanted her to go. She had a good sense of direction and tried to commit that to her usually good memory.
Clarissa has many questions, especially to why her father would want her to go that close to the Glass City in the first place but she doesn't ask any, not wanting it to sound like she was complaining. In fact she was severely grateful, she wants to kill something that's actually alive for once.
She wanted to make something suffer.
Very OOC Clary, I think this story is off to a good start :)
Remember to review!
(Even edited the AN because it was cringy AF *sigh*)
-Mia ❤️ ILYY