A/N: I do not own Mortal Instruments, or the names of its characters. I do however own my characters as are written in this story, and this story itself. Thank you for reading! Please enjoy.
Chapter 1
"… a silent waging of war."
Fourteen years earlier. 8738 FA
Sphere Lasan. House of Valentine
Hard gray stone walls, looming up and over two tiny little children and their escorts - the Queen Maryse and some twenty-five guards - intimidated a little at first sight, but no more than the long, interplanetary journey that had lain before them some five years ago. Two small children had just arrived on the island-planet of Lasan after covering hundreds of light-years from their home sphere of Chlosei. The young travellers were exhausted from the trip, yet they still had to travel cross-planet to the capital kingdom of Lasan, and the plantation-castle called The House of Valentine there, before their journey could end. One small head of wavy, brown hair shivered noticeably from both excitement and the chill of the north, while another filled with already cynical, emerald eyes, took in their surroundings with an air of boredom and mistrust. As they entered the grand hall of the castle, a cold blast of wind slammed shut the castle doors, sending the brown-haired child into a hurriedly-hushed shriek of alarm. At the far end of the long hall, Prince Jace, the son, a young boy of six years, rolled his eyes.
Queen Maryse gracefully guided her two small charges towards the throne.
"Now little ones, I want you on your best manners; bow, curtsy, don't speak unless you are spoken to and above all," she cast a warning glance towards the auburn-haired child, "no pranks."
The little girl's eyes widened significantly with feigned innocence, but not before a wholly devilish smirk formed on her tiny mouth that made the Queen dread the approaching introduction. "Um, sure Aunt Maryse, whatever you say."
As they arrived at the throne the King and Prince took in the small troupe. The Queen stepped forward and curtsied courteously to the King, then motioned the two little children to follow suit.
"This is Simon Lewis, Prince of the Eastern Planetary Kingdom, Chlosei, and my nephew."
The little boy with the wavy brown hair edged forward timidly, gave a deep bow to both the King and Prince, then scooted backwards behind the Queen as fast as he could.
"And this is Clary Fray, his friend, and my new ward."
The other child with the auburn and tousled curls stepped to the front boldly, met the eyes of the Prince with her own unwavering glare, and gave a mock bow from the hips to the King, her eyes never once leaving the Prince's. She could hear the Aunt's sigh of exasperation and she smirked. Like hell she was going to curtsy. She took a step back, extremely pleased with herself.
"Little ones, it is quite a pleasure making your acquaintance." King Valentine's big and burly voice echoed throughout the silent hall.
"Same here Sir," quipped Clary. Maryse's grip on the girl's shoulder tightened significantly.
"The children are tired my Liege; they have travelled from very far away and I would like to see them to bed now . . . if that is alright."
"Yes Maryse, of course it is. See them in immediately."
"Sire," she nodded in respect, before escorting the children to their chambers.
Prince Jace's eyes followed the girl Clary. What kind of little girl bowed like a man and voluntarily spoke to Valentine? She meant obvious trouble. He did not like it at all. His father seemed slightly amused and his mother seemed . . . like she could use a little help. Maybe he should keep an eye on that girl, make sure she stayed in line. Somebody had to do it, and as Prince and heir to the throne, who better for the job than him?
"But Aunt Maryse, you said to speak if you are spoken to and that is what I did!" Clary's high-pitched voice reached a deafening crescendo belying the agitation felt at being bombarded with yet another lecture on social graces and etiquette. The children were now in their room, where Maryse was helping them to get settled for the night.
"Clary, will you please lower your voice!" Maryse reprimanded. "I know what I said, and the problem is not that you spoke to the King, the problem is the casual informality with which you chose to do so!"
"Well I said Sir! So sorry that I am not the uptight, ass plug that you would have me be!"
"Young lady, you better had watch your language or else!"
"You know what Aunt Maryse? I'm not a lady, I am an obvious problem for you and as such maybe it would be best if I just left and went back home to Chlosei!"
Maryse crossed the room towards the defiant little girl and raised her chin with a gentle hand. It was extremely hard to believe that she was only six years old sometimes.
"Clary, I don't want you to leave unless you want to leave, what I want you to do is to behave."
"But I don't know how," came the sullen reply.
"Aunt Maryse?" the soft voice came from the corner.
"Yes Simon?"
"Isn't asking Clary to behave asking her to not be true to herself?"
Maryse sighed. She could see that she was getting nowhere and it was getting late.
"Okay you guys. Let's agree to disagree for tonight okay?"
"Alright, Aunt Maryse," Clary scooted backwards onto the mountain of pillows at the head of her bed, "G'night."
Simon snuggled under his covers in the twin bed opposite Clary's. "Goodnight, Aunt Maryse."
"And a fair goodnight to you my loves," Maryse replied as she swept out the door, closing it quietly behind her.
"Simon?"
"Yes Clary?"
"Thanks."
"It's nothing . . . Ow!" Simon muffled his cry with his blanket, assessing in the semidarkness the huge pillow that had just assailed him. Clary's own muffled laughter erupted from across the room.
"Sorry . . . old habits die hard."
Simon sighed as he leaned down and grabbed the pillow off the floor.
"I see. Well I guess that's just one more pillow for me then. Goodnight Clary."
"Goodnight."
The children awoke to sharp and persistent knocking on their chamber door.
"Come in please," Simon called, sitting up in bed.
Clary groaned and rolled over onto her stomach, falling directly back to sleep. If she were in charge, early rising would be a felony.
The young Prince entered the room dramatically. Simon's mouth dropped slightly open.
"I am here to summon you to first meal. Be ready as soon as possible. I will be escorting you to the dining hall and I shall not be kept waiting."
Clary flew up at the sound of the voice. Refraining from making a face at the haughty little boy, she asked with forced politeness, "Excuse me, but where is Aunt Maryse?"
"In the future," he deliberated, taking her in with cold eyes, "you will address me as my Prince, your Highness or your Majesty, and where my mother is, is none of your business."
Clary bit the inside of her lip so as not to curse. "Damn brat has issues," she muttered under her breath as she slid out of bed.
"Excuse me?" Jace said pointedly.
"Yes?" Clary said pointedly.
Simon watched as the two stood off facing each other, neither moving, tension escalating in the room.
"Cousin Jace, may we be excused so that we may be ready for first meal on time?"
Jace turned his gaze on Simon, "What did you just call me?"
Clary erupted. "Your mother gave him permission to call you that! What exactly is your problem? . . . Your Highness," she finished with sweet sarcasm.
"How dare you speak to me with such disrespect!" he demanded.
"How dare you treat him that way? He is your cousin and a prince and -"
"And you are nothing but trash my mother picked up off-course. What's your point?"
Clary flew at him and dealt him a hard slap across his face. Jace's eyes widened significantly before they narrowed in silent threat.
"You are going to regret that," he said quietly.
"And you are obnoxious. What's your point?" Clary countered.
Simon stood by at a complete loss as to what to do. He hated when Clary got mad or upset. It made her reckless, rash and unpredictable.
"Prince Jace we are all going to be late if we don't get moving now," he reminded again, trying to divert their attention away from killing each other.
Again Jace turned his gaze to Simon. "I'll be outside." Glancing back towards Clary, he turned and walked out.
"What a friggin' loser," Clary grounded out, before turning around and heading for her personal Lavat to refresh herself. "He definitely has esteem problems."
"You shouldn't have hit him, Clary. He could make life here hard for both of us if he wants."
"For you maybe, but I'd pummel him into the ground before he could . . ."
"No! He is the Prince. Even if he is our age we must show him the same level of respect we show to the King."
"Fuck that."
"Clary . . . stop swearing."
"It's time to get ready. We are already late."
Simon sighed and turned to walk into his own Lavat. It was going to be a very long, very interesting stay here at the House of Valentine. He just hoped he could survive it.
"Ah . . . here they are." Maryse's relief was obvious as she motioned the two children to sit by her side. "Where were you? I was about to send someone looking."
"Um . . . we are very sorry to be late," Simon said. "I couldn't decide what to wear."
It was then Maryse looked up and saw her son sitting on the right hand of his father and noticed the bruise on his cheek. Looking back towards the children she noticed Simon's own reddening cheeks and Clary's stealthy avoidance in meeting her gaze.
"I see. We will talk later."
Aware of Maryse's disappointment the two children nodded and so first meal began; a relatively uneventful meal, except for Clary and Jace shooting daggers at each other in a silent waging of war.
A/N: Thank you again for taking the time to read this story! It is half-way complete, and so I will be adding a new chapter twice a month until it is finished. That way there will not be a seemingly indefinite wait between what has been written already and what remains for me to write. If I complete this story before I share what I have written thus far, I will upload everything at once. Either way, it means we will be together for a long time. Kindly review and tell me how you feel about my reimagining of Clary and Jace! I look forward to your feedback, and eagerly anticipate your responses :3