"I'm sure you both know what you did wrong, correct?" Valentine Morgenstern's voice was measured and calm, but you could tell by the stern set of his pale features and the soft warning in his tone that he was angry. His two sons could not be more different in how they were handling this; the golden eyed one was the picture of ease and relaxation. His small, six year old face was pulled into an easygoing smirk and his posture was relaxed. He was surprisingly lean, yet well muscled for a six year old boy, and looked as if he worked out every day of his short life, and perhaps he did, as well as his brother. The said brother was a perfect, if smaller, replica of his father; the same hair that was so fair it was very nearly white, the same triangular face and broad shoulders, except instead of the deep, mysterious, dark eyes of his father, the six year old had piercing green eyes that looked like green glass with the sun shining on it, with flecks of blue and even lighter green in them. His small face was turned towards the ground, his lips a thin, embarrassed white line.

The golden haired boy muttered a quick, "Yes, sir, I'm very sorry," that suggested he was anything but sorry, but the white haired one could do no more than nod. "What was that, Jonathan?" Valentine was staring at the white haired one, his gaze calculating. At this his son looked up at him slowly, and said quietly, "Yes father. I, we," he glanced at his amber eyed comrade who had his ever present smirk planted in his handsome face, "shall never do that again." In one quick motion, Valentine covered the distance between them in one long stride. Jonathan wanted nothing more than to step back at that moment, but he knew that the comsequences would be worse if he did. Valentine always expected his sons to look him in the eye when they spoke to him, and to never step away from him. "What exactly would 'that' be?" He sneaked one more glance towards his brother, and saw that now that Valentine's back was turned that his golden eyes were burning with the bright fire of anger, and that his hands were squeezed into tight fists at his side. Jonathan, now slightly shaken, answered. "We shall never enter your study unprovoked and unsupervised again, sir." Well, that was only partly true; he had been provoked by Jace (that's what his brother preferred to be called, and it was still a mystery to Jonathan) and was only trying to keep him out of trouble, which he should've learned a long time ago never worked, when their father had found them and ordered them into the library, and that's where they were now, being lectured. It was all Jace's fault, and yet he was the calm one, like always. Or perhaps he wasn't so calm, and it was only a façade. Valentine said sharply, "Well, I guess I'll have to make sure that you remember this lesson, won't I? Just to be safe." Jonathan stiffened as he heard the lazy, almost bored sounding drawl of his brother, "I doubt that will be necessary, father." He wasn't quite successful, though, in hiding his anger and indignation, which only seemed to make their father angrier. "Now, Jonathan, do you think you're the one who should be deciding that?" Why their father named his two sons both Jonathan was a mystery to them, yet they'd learned long ago to never question Valentine. By now Jace was shaking slightly, "That's not my name." He hissed, and before they knew it, Valentine was standing right in front of him. "What have I told you about lying?" Jace was breathing so hard it seemed like he had just sprinted for three miles, and his face was red.

It was a strange, almost comical (if the situation wasn't also terrifying), picture as was expected. Jace might be pretty tall for a six year old, although Jonathan was a head taller than him, but Valentine was a very tall man, over six feet tall. And, as was expected, towered over Jace, and was probably three times as muscular and brawny. Still, with his bright eyes narrowed in barely concealed malice, Jace looked nearly as angry, ferocious, dangerous, and frightening. Jace lifted his chin, and met Valentine's gaze evenly, his eyes still narrowed. Something flashed in Valentine's eyes as he continued, "And don't bother doing it now, because I saw the entire thing." Jace's eyes widened imperceptibly, but thankfully remained silent. Valentine narrowed his eyes, "Including the part when your brother tried to warn you not to do what I specifically told you not to do, knowing that you would be severely punished. Tell me, was it worth it?" Jace smiled his usual angelic, heart-stopping grin, but it was tinged with malice, coldness, and anger, all emotions that Jonathan suspected an angel would never feel. "Quite." He spoke through clenched teeth. "Father, please don't." Jonathan says surprisingly strongly, despite the terror that has chilled him to the bone. Valentine sighs and turns to look at his son, "Jonathan, it's the only way he'll learn." Jonathan looks liked he wants to protest, but he only turns away and tightens his jaw, preferring not to watch his brother get 'severely punished.' He heared the classic dragging sound that accompanied Valentine removing his belt. Jonathan knew what was coming; a whipping, and a long, hard one at that.

After what felt like ages, it was over. He turned back around and saw Jace pulling his shirt over the solid muscle of his chest. He looked no less angry, but maybe slightly subdued. He met Jonathan's gaze and after a split second looked away, but not before Jonathan saw what was in his eyes; pain, anger, and, worst of all, a white hot blazing inferno that could only be described as rebellion, and a strong one at that.