AN: I've always been curious about Sebastian's whip marks ever since I first read about them in City of Lost Souls, and I finally decided to write something about them. This is the story of how Valentine whipped Sebastian to remind him of the the perils of obedience.

I tried to make it as accurate as possible in terms of personality and time frame. I know that Valentine faked his death when Jace was ten years old, but Sebastian is at least a year older than Clary which makes him at least six months older than Jace. So I'm assuming that this happened when Jace was still nine. Some of the stuff expressed in this chapter about how he wants to rule the world felt a bit too much for a normal character, but he was a megalomaniac and ruthless from a young age. I think Sebastian's fascinating (hence why I wrote this), but we can't ignore the fact that he's supposed to be a villain and Valentine always said that he was disturbingly harsh, even as a child.

I must warn against spoilers - clearly, this is based around a line from City of Lost Souls. So do NOT read this if you haven't read the book. It was only briefly mentioned, but it left a lasting impression on me. There is also a MAJOR implied spoiler for City of Heavenly Fire following the o-O-o. Even if you say that you don't mind spoilers, I must advise against reading it since it basically gives away one of the major climaxes of the series. So PLEASE don't read it if you haven't finished the series. I despise spoilers, and I would HATE to be a cause for them.

All that being said, this is my first story about The Mortal Instruments! It's also one of the only one-shots I'm proud of. However, I love feedback, so PLEASE review if you read this. Even if it's something as simple as one line, you could honestly make my day. And feel free to leave me (constructive) criticism too, I'm here to learn. =)

Thank you so much for reading this and I hope you enjoy it. =)

- HarryPotterForever1997

The Perils of Obedience:

It happened when he was ten years old.

Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern had always been a compliant son. Perhaps he wasn't docile or compassionate like the other boy that Valentine insisted on raising, but the fact that he was obedient was indisputable. Valentine taught him to always do whatever it took to gain power and succeed, and that often meant being deferential and agreeing with whatever he said. After all, Jonathan would inherit the world after Valentine died - there was no reason for him to question his father's methods. The sooner Valentine succeeded (and died), the sooner he could begin his rule.

One day Valentine came home with a horse. Jonathan didn't think much of it at the time, his father could be described at peculiar at best so a new pet was hardly out of the ordinary. But as time passed, Jonathan grew exceedingly aware of the horse's presence in his father's life. Valentine spent all of his free time with the cursed animal - whatever he did, fed it, rode it, cleaned out its shed, he did with such fervor and emotion that Jonathan began to feel a little bit irritated. It annoyed him that Valentine displayed so much enthusiasm when in the animal's presence, it was almost personally insulting in a way. Jonathan didn't need affection but he did demand due attention. Love was an enigmatic thing to him - all he knew was that a person could take it or give it, and no one deserved it more than he did. He was a warrior, ruthless and strong. He could sever someone's spine and pierce their heart in a single move, and if Valentine was going to shower adoration on someone it made the most sense for it to be him - not Jace, and definitely not some foul donkey.

"I'm going to teach you something different." Valentine said a few weeks after the wretched animal had entered his life. "Not the art of combat or façade, but a lesson that you must learn." That week was a strange one and involved much more fighting than this initial implication. Valentine demanded different things from him and Jonathan obliged. He didn't know what his father's lesson was but he knew better than to question his methods - iratzes healed wounds, but they didn't reduce the pain felt while the injuries were inflicted.

Eventually they reached the end of seventh day. The sun dipped lower into the horizon as the minutes passed.

"Stop." Valentine said in a clipped voice. Jonathan stopped. His muscles were fatigued and his shirt stuck to him, caked in grime and sweat. But he knew better than to leave without permission. "Follow me." He said, leading Jonathan away from the patch of grass. Jonathan stayed behind his father as he tried to discern where they were going. It didn't take long - they were going to the stables. They stopped in front of the horse's corral. Jonathan sneered at the name emblazoned on the door. 'Jonathan'. For all of his attributes, the one thing Valentine lacked was originality. He was careful to wipe the smirk off his face as his father turned to him - impudence was not to be tolerated from a Morgenstern.

"Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern." Valentine began, the syllables rolling off his tongue like drops of blood from an open wound. "You have displayed some of the finest skills this week. You have done everything I asked for and you obliged despite the difficulty of some of the tasks." Jonathan had to clench his fists to stop from retorting; repeatedly punching walls to strengthen his knuckles was a little more than just difficult. "I have one final thing to test with my last request." With a cold smile on his face he raised a thin finger and pointed at his beloved pet. "Kill him."

Jonathan felt time slow down, much like it did when he was in battle. However this was not a physical fight. This was a war of his wits, and try as he might, he did not know what his father wanted from him. Studying his face yielded no results. He'd lowered his finger and now just gazed at Jonathan expectantly, almost as if he was waiting for something.

On the one hand, Valentine hated defiance; he wouldn't have asked for this unless he wanted it. He'd constantly taught Jonathan the dangers of giving mercy. However, maybe this was a test of his ability to feign human emotion? Was he supposed to show compassion and empathy? After all, Valentine did seem to love the horse. He gazed deeply into his father's eyes, and they seemed to grow colder by the minute. He made a move to clench his jaw and Jonathan panicked. Valentine was an impatient man, and if he'd wanted Jonathan to spare the horse's life, he wouldn't be looking at him like he was supposed to have moved by now. Besides - perhaps he realised that giving his love to a horse was a waste? Perhaps he wanted to put it somewhere else?

Jonathan moved like lightning, his hand had his dagger out of its sheath and at the horse's throat before Valentine stopped him.

He stopped him.

Jonathan looked up at Valentine, dreading his expression, but his father seemed...validated. As if his expectations had been met.

"You chose wrong." He said with a cruel smile on his face. The words hit Jonathan like a slap, but he didn't flinch. Showing your opponents your fear was an admission of weakness, and Jonathan wasn't about to make two mistakes in one day. "Wait here." He said.

Jonathan watched his father leave, feeling an odd mixture of curiosity and trepidation. He'd suffered at the hand of Valentine several times, but it was always only a punishment to instill good behaviour, never because of him being wrong about something. But the pain he'd felt was endurable, it couldn't get much worse. Could it? His worst suspicions were confirmed a moment later when his father came back into the stables.

"Turn around and take off your shirt." he said.

Jonathan didn't let any emotion show on his face as he went through the familiar movements, resting his hands on the corral door of the horse he'd just attempted to murder. He braced himself for the sharp bite of the whip, but nothing could have prepared him for the sheer agony he felt as the metal object made contact with his back. One slight touch and he was burning, the waves of pain rising and falling as Valentine brutally whipped him. He tried to keep his focus on the name on the door. Jonathan. The name of two sons, one dark and one light. Did Valentine do the same to his beloved Jace? A cry of pain escaped his lips before he clamped them shut. It was unusual but not surprising, his skin was singing in agony and every stroke just made it worse - throughout it all, he felt fire. Fire scorching his skin wherever the whip had touched him, never lessening in intensity.

Valentine whipped him one last time. The last blow was harder than the rest, probably due to the irritation of hearing his cry of pain.

"When you recover, go back to your room and sleep. Let this be a lesson to you. Never forget the perils of obedience. You cannot expect to get anywhere if you're so willing to take orders from others. There will come a time when you will rule the world Jonathan, but that will never happen if you're so submissive and weak. You're much too easy to fool." He said, and left the barn. Jonathan fell to his knees, letting his body react to what he'd just experienced. The pain of being hit by the unusual thing had subsided, but his wounds still burned. Why did they still hurt so much? "Oh, and don't bother trying an iratze." He heard his father say. He could hear the smile in his voice. "Demon metal. Those scars will never fade or heal completely. Think of it as a...constant reminder." And then he was gone again.

Jonathan sucked in a harsh breath, trying to ignore the pain. So he was stuck like this forever? He tentatively reached a hand behind him, lightly brushing against the wounds. His hand came back stained with blood, but aside from a slight spike, he didn't feel much. His body was probably in shock from the pain. He gritted his teeth. The wounds may heal, but they'd always be tender and burn - of course Valentine wouldn't give him a hamartia that would affect his fighting abilities, he'd just make sure that he spent every day in a state of near agony, constantly reminded of this moment in time. He shrugged his shirt back on and sat down on the ground. The hay felt prickly beneath his skin. He understood now - he had to obey Valentine because he needed him. But when he did get to rule the world, he couldn't ever be this obedient again. The fire raging in his fresh wounds told him as much. He had also come to a revelation about love and adoration. Clearly, it wasn't something you could earn by being a good son, brother, or companion. It had to be taken - the horse showed him that. If you loved someone, they belonged to you. And there was nothing anything or anyone could do to change that.

After that moment, Jonathan stopped being so proud of his name - not only was it terribly common in his life, but there were times when the memory of leaning against the stable door would rise up in his mind, unbidden. His emblazoned name was all he remembered seeing, and much like the constant burn of the scars, it became an eternal reminder of his pain and the one time he was wrong. So when many years passed, and he felt the cold stillness of death and the strange sensation of rebirth, he had no qualms about letting go of the past and renaming himself Sebastian. It was an untainted name (well, it had belonged to someone else but that wasn't a problem anymore) that carried no reminders of a dark childhood and past mistakes.

Sebastian was much better.

o-O-o

Valentine was wrong. The scars did heal, many years down the line, when for the first time he was completely and utterly free of the perpetual weight of demon blood and burn of the whip marks. But of course, by then it was too late to make much of a difference.

AN: Well, that was a poignant ending, although I suppose Sebastian's a tragic character anyway. Damn it Valentine. Am I the only one who doesn't like calling him Jonathan? Obviously, this takes place years before he changes his name so it's a necessity, but the number of times I had to stop myself from writing Sebastian is a little ridiculous.

If you enjoyed reading this, leave me a review! If you didn't, tell me what you didn't like! I'd love the feedback regardless of it's nature.

Until next time,

HarryPotterForever1997