It was not a cold night and yet Jocelyn Morgenstern felt as though she was in the depths of winter. She shivered underneath her bedclothes; Valentine did not stir, unaware of the fact his pregnant wife had been lying awake now for the last few hours. Jocelyn was only just beginning to show; most of her clothes still fitted, though her Shadowhunter Gear had already been put away; she could not fight, nor attend Circle Meetings whilst pregnant. Valentine had made that quite clear. Jocelyn ran her fingers over her lower belly, smiling as she did. The life in there was full of potential; potential she and Valentine would nurse. There was something there though at the back of her mind, an uneasiness of sorts; she assumed all mothers felt the same. She was only nineteen, she had been married young even by Shadowhunter standards. Everything had happened so quickly, so it was normal to feel like this, wasn't it? Jocelyn had convinced herself that it was.
Unable to stand being in bed any longer while wide awake, Jocelyn swung her legs to the side and stood up, grabbing for her dressing gown so she could cover her shoulders. As it was, she was only wearing a thin, black nightdress, which barely kept her warm. It was the height of summer, so why was she so cold? Jocelyn rubbed her shoulders with her hands, and went over to her bedroom window, sitting on the ledge gracefully. It was a clear night; the stars shone brightly down upon Idris. Casting her eyes back to the room, she noticed the cup which was on her bedside table; she had only drunk a little of the drink which Valentine had brought to her. It was some form of tea, he had said it would be good for the baby. He was so attentive to her and so caring. Jocelyn smiled; unsure of what she would do without her loving husband. What with the baby on the way, their little family would soon be complete.
Jocelyn crossed the room quietly and picked up the drink, quickly returning to the window ledge as she sipped at the liquid. It had long since cooled, but she didn't have the will to return to the kitchen to warm it. The taste was bitter; she hoped it would settle whatever was amiss in her mind, to at least allow her a few hours' sleep. She had been intending to visit Lucian in the morning, for it had been over a week since she had seen him last, which was unusually long for him. She had asked after him, but Valentine had said he had been on missions of some sort, which had kept him away. Jocelyn missed him terribly. She hoped every day that he would call upon her again; it felt like since she had fallen pregnant, his visits had started to thin. She shook off the thought; she was probably making too much of it. Just because she was no longer in active duty did not mean the Shadowhunter world came to a stop. Perhaps she just noticed his absence because she had little else to occupy hers days with. She didn't sigh, because though she hated being so out of touch with what was going out outside the Fairchild manor, the excitement of hers and Valentines first child somehow outweighed the sacrifices she was making now. Jocelyn was hoping for a girl, she knew Valentine wanted a boy, in truth she would be happy with either but if she had to choose one, she knew she would prefer a daughter.
Having finished the tea, Jocelyn set the cup down and looked back outside. Sleep altogether overwhelmed her and she slumped against the window gently, her eyes drinking in the starlight before they came to a close. The sleep was not the sleep which Jocelyn had been hoping for. Her dream was dark; she still felt cold. Jocelyn felt as though shadows moved around her, as though they were coming for her. She tried to run, she tried to be rid of them but they were too strong, too fast and too overwhelming. Jocelyn felt darkness run over her, consuming her, as though it ran through her very veins. Something was here with her, in her mind. She could feel it, almost as though it was mocking her. She knew there was something else here. In her dreams she was running, until she came upon a small room, decorated only with a cradle in the far corner. Jocelyn felt as though she should not be here, but curiosity got the better of her and she advanced slowly upon the cradle, and looked down into it. The baby which looked back at her had eyes as black as night. Sweat drenched over her body, as though she had bathed in it.
She woke screaming.
Valentine was standing over her, Jocelyn screamed at the shadow he cast, her eyes not yet adjusted to the darkened room. He had shaken her awake; her screams had roused him from his own slumber. His eyes only briefly took in the now empty cup. "Jocelyn, sweetheart, it's me." Valentine spoke in a soft and gentle whisper, reaching out a hand so that he could caress her face. She flinched at first, but then settled, "Shhh." He stepped forwards and scooped her up in his arms as though she was no heavier than a doll. Setting her down on the bed, he brushed her hair back off her face, only then did Jocelyn become aware of how wet her hair had become. The dawn was breaking, the sun began to peek through their bedroom window. Valentine briefly followed her eyes to where the sun now caused a shadow to cast through the window and he smiled at her, "It was a bad dream, Jocelyn, nothing to worry about." He kissed her forehead, "You look unwell. Get some sleep, I'll check on you later." Jocelyn, still feeling shaken, feebly nodded, and was asleep in moments.
The next night, he had to force her to drink the tea.