When Jace told Clary the "bedtime story" about his life in COB, it made me wonder what else might have happened when growing up with Valentine. And since nothing else was mentioned in the series, I decided to make my own!
DISCLAIMER: No. I'm not Cassandra Clare.
Jace's Pov.
The rain was hitting the window with such force that I couldn't help but be jealous. Why couldn't I be that strong? As strong as the wind, or Mother Nature herself. Maybe then father might be proud. Maybe he might smile at me and say that I'm the strongest warrior he knows, for once looking down at me with nothing but love instead of the usual scowl, like someone handed him the wrong offspring. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of such thoughts. I then turned my attention back to the book sitting snug on my lap. The cover read "Ancient Greek Theories and Literature." The time was about five in the evening, which meant it was time for my studies. Father would leave me in the library with an assigned book and lock the door behind him, making sure I was to stay.
The library itself was as dreadful as the rest of the manor. Books stacked on shelf after shelf, the ones toward the top had a thin layer of dust from being neglected after so many years. And though there was a fire crackling in the fireplace, the room was far from warm. The dim and eerie lighting, plus the restless storm outside left a mood that was almost . . . haunting.
I shuddered and closed my eyes, thinking of the happiest thoughts I could possibly conger up. Riding my horse in the field, the sun just rising over the lake in the distance. Father patting my on the back once I'd killed my first demon at age five. Falling asleep on a stack of hay in the barn, trying to hide from the servants who were planning on giving me a bath. And . . . what else was there? I thought, there has to be something . . . my birthday's tomorrow, is it not? Wait – my birthday's tomorrow! Just coming to this realization, I snapped my eyes open and jumped off the window seat where I had perched reading my book. My birthday meant I got to do anything I wanted. No training, no studying, just being myself.
Jonathon.
When coming to this thought, I stopped with my sudden outburst. Who was Jonathon Christopher, exactly? A Shadowhunter, sure. But there was more to that. What's my favorite food? I asked myself. My mind came up blank. Color? I thought desperately. I mean, if you asked me what my favorite weapon was, I could answer without any problem. Favorite fighting stance? Right knee forward. Yeah, I knew a million ways to kill someone, but I can't even figure out my favorite color? Normally I could just answer black without hesitation, but was it really?
"Who am I?" I whispered out loud.
"Jonathon," answered a voice at the door.
Swinging around, I saw my father leaning against the door frame.
"You're Jonathon Christopher Morgenstern. Soon to be the greatest Shadowhunter the world has known." Valentine strutted towards me, "That is, if you continue with your studies." He nodded towards the abandoned book sitting on the seat.
"Uh . . . yes, father." I sat down right away as I was moments before. Father walked towards his desk and started looking through papers, files, books. What he was looking for I couldn't tell you. Your guess is probably as good as mine, considering he never lets me read anything from what I am assigned. Father, his fine hair growing greyer everyday, the lines on his face becoming more pronounced. At first glance you might mistake him for some old cripple, weak and defenseless. But if you had the chance to look closer you would realize that Valentine was far from a useless old bag. And what gave him away were his eyes. His black, cold, merciless eyes might lead any man to question sanity itself. Trust me, I speak from experience.
"Father, I was wondering if maybe I might be able to saddle the horse later instead of Latin," I asked nervously. Some days Valentine didn't care if I skipped out on a language assignment to tend to the horses, but other days . . . well, let's just hope it wasn't one of those days. Father slammed the folder he was examining on the desk.
Uh – oh.
"Son," he sighed, "Come here please." He pointed to the empty space right next to him. Reluctantly, I stood and took my sweet time getting to him. My breathing accelerated, though I tried my best to mask it.
"Yes, sir?" I asked once I was standing next to him face to face. After a few moments of silence and staring into each others eyes he raises his hand.
Then swiftly brings it down to strike me.
The pain is blinding, and for the longest time I see nothing but black. I gasp but try not to show any other sign of weakness, because then I fear he might get out the belt. Do not pass out; I think to myself, I swear if you pass out, I might just die.
"Do you wish to ride with the ponies, Jonathon?" My father keeps his voice calm and leveled. There is nothing more terrifying then when Valentine uses that tone.
"Answer me boy!" He grabs my chin to make me look him directly in the eye.
"N-no, sir, of course not," I stutter.
He brings his face down to the point where I noses almost touch.
"You never ask to wimp out on studies. Only when commanded. Understand?" he shout-whispers. I frantically nod my head.
"I don't ever want to here that my son would rather frolic with the horses then do as he is told. You're a sad excuse for a human being, let alone a demon hunter. How am I suppose to turn you into the best shadow hunter that ever lived is you want to prance with ponies instead of do what I tell you is best!" yells father. I simply shrug, not knowing how to answer that. Valentine responds by kneeing me in the gut. I sink to the floor, clenching my stomach and coughing violently.
"The pain," I hiss.
"Get use to it," Valentine spits back. He turns around to leave but stops suddenly at the door, "And don't expect anything for your birthday tomorrow except a training lesson." And then he's gone, leaving me on the ground in what I can only describe as a death sentence.
I crawl to the small garbage can next to the desk and puke. Tomorrow's my ninth birthday and all I get is a training lesson.
It better be a darn good one.
I hope you all caught that connection with the ninth birthday there, that "lesson" that Valentine teaches him just happens to be the one that helps him kill a certain someone in COG.
Please review and tell me what you thought. Better yet, tell me if you want this to be a series. Like a different childhood story from Jace in each chapter, told in different ways. What do ya think?
Flames accepted.