Light In Your Nightmare
Yep, the plot bunnies have been bouncing around once more in my head. Think Valentine or his son fed them something weird. Annoying little things. Demon bunnies maybe? Anyway, with the end of my other Jonathan/OC rapidly approaching, I thought I'd get this one underway. Reviews are very much loved thank you ^-^
Summary: Life is easy living and growing up with an angel boy until you're ten. But then Cynthia finds herself tumbling into a world of darkness and lies with no angel boy to guide her way. Jonathan/OC
-For Laura… because she would kill me if I didn't dedicate it to her XD-
Traveling between the boys and their houses was always boring, but it had to be done. Valentine had discovered that his angel boy was fine left with his tutor, the maids and studies, a bright grin upon his face whenever his father returned home, eager to show him what he'd been doing in his absence. A three year old angel, literally.
But when he visited his demon boy, the head maid of the household would be waiting at the door for him, blurting out whatever he'd been up to. And that included the terrorizing, tantrums and attempting to bite the maids. Four years old and already a little hell raiser. It was no surprise that the man much preferred spending time with his little angel boy if he wanted calm.
He rode his midnight steed across the Idrisian countryside, the peak of Autumn with the trees shedding their leaves. They lay golden, auburn and sunset orange upon the ground around the thick trunk, flying upwards as the hooves bounded through them. At the entrance to the valley, a single oak tree stood, proud and majestic with its leaves still adorning its branches, making it seem like it was splattered with gold.
There was only one more mansion, one family in the area. The Darkstones. There wasn't anything remotely special about them, and they kept themselves to themselves. Everytime Valentine made the journey between boys, he spied the Darkstone mansion behind the crop of silver birch trees. Its bricks were not the usual grey and white, but almost a black and grey. Dark, like the family name.
But this time he made the crossing, there was something different. Ominous, almost. There was a giant plume of smoke rising from the mansion that was up in flames. Valentine slowed his horse to a stop, eyes sharp and attentive as he scanned the area, seeing nothing. Nudging his horse forwards until the path that led up to the house, he kept his wits about him, checking for survivors. It wasn't worry that the family was alive that he felt, but more along the lines of whatever had caused the families mansion to go up in flames was close to his demon boy. The last thing he needed was some hoard to take advantage over a small cottage that held only a few maids and a young boy. Unless he himself was there, then the creatures stood no chance.
But it was too much of a risk and Valentine slid down from his horse, hand sat comfortably atop the hilt of his blade just incase as he stepped forwards.
The mansion had been burning for a good few hours, that was obvious. The roof had collapsed inwards on itself and the surrounding trees were starting to catch fire. He didn't have much time as he strode forwards, but saw nothing- if there had been monsters around, they were long gone.
It was a quiet sob that drew his attention, spinning around to the rose bushes that lay untouched by the flames. With a hand tightening around the hilt of his blade, he pulled it out and held it before him, dark eyes narrowed as he moved aside the rosebush and spied a pair of bright green eyes. Slowly, he lowered the blade and sheathed it, stepping around the foliage and stared at the sight before him-
A girl, tiny really, maybe the same age as his sons stared up at him with eyes the same color as an emerald. Her hair was long and honey blond. She looked so scared and alone, the little Shadowhunter.
"Where is my mommy?" she asked in a soft whimper, and Valentine was stumped what to do. Genuinely. He crouched down before the little girl, still so much taller than her as he asked, dark eyes meeting her own forest green ones. "What is your name?"
"Cynthia."
"Is your last name Darkstone, Cynthia?"
"Yes sir."
Ah. So her family was dead. Valentine realized, watching the little girl start to cough violently from the smoke she had inhaled, her eyes red from crying. She looked close to passing out.
A moment later, she actually did.
-LightInYourNightmare-
The little demon boy was sat at the bottom of the stairs, facing the door and waiting. His father was on his way, he was more than sure. Some kind of gut instinct had made him leave his room to sit upon the bottom step with his dark eyes fixed upon the door.
Not ten minuets later, the sound of hooves sounded and a bright, triumphant grin spread across Jonathan's face, getting to his feet and waiting for the moment that man walked through the door. He was excited. Today he'd managed to excel in his studies. One step closer to having his own blade.
But Jonathan's face fell as soon as that door opened and indeed, his father walked in… carrying a small figure.
"Is that a dead dog, Father?" he asked curiously, trotting after the hulking figure as he walked into the main room and lay the bundle in his arms upon the sofa. Jonathan next to stared, realizing what it was at last. "Why is there a girl here?"
The demon boys language and speech was more advanced than any his own age, his father knew that. It was strange talking to a four year old as if he was older. But he certainly knew what he was talking about.
"Because, Jonathan, I think you would benefit from a female presence around the house."
"But the maids are female!"
"Of your own age."
Jonathan whined quietly from annoyance, glaring at the small form of the girl as his father left the room to find a maid. A pause and he stepped forwards, raising a hand and poking her cheek a few times until her eyes fluttered open, staring at him with wide green eyes. She sat up in a flurry of movement, those same eyes widening as they fixed themselves upon the boy before her.
"I don't-?" She started, but was stopped dead by a wracking cough that shook her small form. Jonathan just watched, not moving a single muscle as he did so. He took in her blond hair and cocked a brow lightly before turning around and walking out the room back upstairs.
He wasn't going to waste his time on silly little things like her.
-LightInYourNightmare-
It was dinnertime when Jonathan emerged from his room, feeling disgruntled that his father hadn't wanted to see what he'd been doing in his absence. But no. He was too preoccupied with the new girl in the place. He was starting to truly hate the girl already.
Jonathan made his way through the cottage to the dining room where he simply started with "Father, can-" but stopped dead at the sight before his eyes; yes, his father was there sat at the oak dinner table… and that little brat was sat on his lap with paper strewn before her and a pen in her hand, scribbling away at something.
"Good evening Jonathan." Valentine said pleasantly, ignoring the burning anger and hatred in his sons dark eyes as he stepped forwards, taking a seat opposite his father. His father had never, ever allowed him to sit upon his lap.
"Good afternoon Father." He replied stiffly, folding his arms and setting them down upon the table.
Cynthia looked up from her drawing, wide-eyed at the boy. She'd seen him before, but now he was striking in his anger; his eyes were wide like her own, but they were black and shining like obsidian. His hair was on the ragged side and white blonde, flopping into his eyes. So very different to herself.
"This is Cynthia." Valentine told his son, raising a hand and stroking the girls fine golden hair back. "Cynthia, this is my son Jonathan."
She next to beamed at the boy, asking in a chirpy voice "Do you want to draw with me?"
Jonathan let his hands clench into fists upon the table, snapping out "No."
"Manners, Jonathan."
"No thank you."
The silence fell once more and as the maids bought out dinner, Jonathan watched out of the corner of his eyes as his father set the little girl down onto the chair next to him. In silence again they ate, Cynthia occasionally picking up her pen once more to draw.
He would never let me do something like that at the dinner table. It's not fair-! Why does a girl get special attention? Jonathan thought angrily, spearing his potato upon his fork, wishing it was her face and shoving it into his mouth.
First he preferred that damn angel boy over him, and now a mere girl?
It wasn't happening. No. Never. He wasn't going to be shoved aside like this.
-LightInYourNightmare-
When dinner was over, Jonathan stayed out of his father and Cynthia's way, holing up in his room and reading. He had a love for delving into books when he was alone. He couldn't read the advanced books, but that didn't stop him trying.
Jonathan ran his finger over a drawing of the Mortal Cup that was in the Shadowhunters Codex.
He cocked his head a little at the Latin inscriptions throughout the book, biting his bottom lip as he tried and failed to pronounce some of them. With a growl of annoyance, he threw the book to the other side of the room with a sulky look upon his face. Why couldn't he grow up already? Be like his father.
The door opened now and a small figure slipped inside. Jonathan looked up with surprise- the audacity of her to just think she could walk into his room?
"Get out!" he snarled, eyes blazing as he got to his feet. Cynthia blinked and Jonathan noticed she still had that drawing pad pressed to her chest as if her life depended on it. "But I just wanted-" she started, but in a flash, Jonathan had started forwards and pushed her over and into the floor. Her bottom lip trembled, but she didn't start crying. Instead, she rose to her feet and told him "You're mean."
"Bye bye" Jonathan replied, placing a hand upon her back and shoving her out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.
Silly little girls.
-LightInYourNightmare-
Cynthia settled in rather easily Valentine had to admit, much easier than he'd first thought. A little innocent four year old girl with no one left and who missed her parents… he was expecting quite a challenge. But no, nothing. She was placid and obedient.
It was probably why she'd grown on him so immensely in such a short time. Jonathan hated the new addition to the Morgenstern household, and his hatred and anger never let up. He seemed hell-bent on forcing her out of the house, ignoring each time his father punished him for his actions that included dumping her drawings into the fire to burn and hitting her whenever possible.
Two weeks later, Valentine realized that Cynthia's place wasn't here at the cottage, but up with his other boy where she wouldn't be terrorized. She wasn't old enough to face his demon boy just yet… maybe spending time with his angel boy would be what she needed. Her future, it wasn't decided yet. But she was young.
Who knew what she could be capable of under his guidance? The plans that were already forming in his head were promising.
A warlock later and Cynthia had no recollection of his demon son at all. The last two weeks were blocked from her mind and she was pestering Valentine to know where she was going with a big wide grin upon her face.
"Are we there yet?" she chirped with her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Not just yet." He replied in a curt voice, tired of her incessant asking and asking. Little Shadowhunter girls were so different to boys.
"Now are-"
"No Cynthia. We are not."
When they finally did arrive, Cynthia stared up at the mansion with big eyes, hardly able to contain her excitement as she was placed down upon the floor and she dashed up to the front door, waiting there for Valentine who was taken aback by her… willingness and enthusiasm. By the Angel, this girl would run through fire if she wanted to.
As the front door was unlocked, Cynthia froze. A finger at her back prodded her forwards and inside where she stood, suddenly going shy.
"Jonathan!" the towering man behind her suddenly called, making her flinch and freeze even more. The man walked around to the living room and Cynthia wondered what his name was. But before she could ask, there were footsteps and a small figure walked around the door and stopped dead at the sight of her, his dark gold eyes widening.
They stared at each other for a moment and Cynthia took in his ragged golden hair that seemed untamable. And those eyes again, big and round like the sun outside.
"Hello?" he asked and Cynthia couldn't stop staring. But when the man rounded the corner, going "Ah, there you are. Maria said you were in the garden."
"I was putting my book back." The boy replied, looking up towards his father. "Who is the girl?"
"This-" he started, stepping behind Cynthia to let his hands rest upon her petite shoulders "is Cynthia. She's joining us until further notice my boy. Cynthia, this is my son Jonathan."
Cynthia smiled weakly in greeting, wishing she could hide as the shyness threatened to make her run off. There was an awkward silence in which the boy broke by muttering out "I was in the garden if you want to come play." At his words, Cynthia looked up towards the man with her eyes widening in excitement. He removed his hands from her shoulders and watched with a cocked eyebrow as the girl giggled and ran off after the boy.
Much better. She'd fit perfectly in here while she was trained up.
She'd meet his demon boy again. But not just yet.
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