The snow had stopped the next day, and Cynthia braved the cold to go for a walk.
She walked all day until she reached Lake Lyn, staring over it in silence. For such dangerous waters, it did look beautiful iced over and covered in snow. The snowcapped mountains in the distance seemed to glitter almost. Alicante wasn't far away and Cynthia found her feet leading her towards the city.
Brocelind Plain was soon behind her as she carried on, staring at the snow capped buildings up ahead, confused- she couldn't be at the city just yet. Oh she realized it was the mausoleums.
It was eerie almost as she walked through the village of the dead it felt like. Shadowhunter family names etched into marble glared at her.
Cynthia stopped at the sight of the Morgenstern one, frowning a little. She wanted to go in and look, but something made her stop dead. Did she really want to see Valentines and maybe even Jonathan's names written there? They weren't dead. But no one else knew that.
She ploughed through the snow once more, looking for a name in particular. One that scared her much, much more than the Morgenstern tomb could. And then she found it.
Darkstone
Cynthia stood before the gaping entrance with her feet almost stuck to the floor in fear. Did she really want to go in there and read her parent's names?
She stepped forwards into the place, swallowing hard as she did. A cold, cruel breeze blew through, raising the hairs at the back of her neck.
But as she walked through the names dating back so many hundreds of years, then the most recent ones, she frowned in confusion- why were her parents names not there? Did no one even notice their deaths-?
Cynthia swallowed hard as she saw her own name there. The most recent. Cynthia Darkstone. Age four it had been put down.
But I'm not dead she laughed internally. My parents are the ones who are dead, and their names aren't even put up here.
Cynthia suddenly felt very cold and miserable, thinking about the parents she once had. She could hardly remember them. Her mother she was sure had her honey blonde hair, but that was it. Nothing else.
With a sigh, she turned away.
There was no place for the living in a city of dead.
-LightInYourNightmare-
Jonathan had been avoiding Cynthia, she could tell. Whether she had offended him or he just plain hated her now, she had no idea.
But that all didn't matter a week later when she started to get ill again, and Valentine gave her a vial of black liquid.
"What is this?" she asked as she opened it, looking dubious. "Drink it and I'll tell you" was his only answer.
Cynthia paused before knocking it back and coughing at the bitter taste. "Okay. Tell me." She demanded afterwards.
Valentine paused before simply saying "Diluted demon blood."
She blinked in surprise, feeling faintly sick "What? Why do I need that? Why- why did you give me that?"
"Because you need it."
"I- I don't understand-?"
Valentine took the little vial from her, turning it in his fingers "I gave you demon blood as a child, you know this. I genuinely thought that you had escaped the undesirable aftereffects. But now I think otherwise."
Cynthia nodded slowly "My eyes. Is that one?"
"Extremely unusual, but yes." A pause. "There may be other effects. Such as, your behavior. Your abilities… your health."
"Am I turning into something like Jonathan?" Cynthia asked now, voice hard almost. There was silence and the man nodded "I can't say for certain, but I think so. Already your anger has risen, haven't you noticed?"
Cynthia snarled and balled her hands into fists by her sides "What are you talking about?! No it hasn't!"
Valentine cocked a brow and Cynthia realized in an instant what he'd meant, her anger ebbing away. "Oh." She just went in a quiet voice, staring down at the floor with her heart feeling heavy- she didn't want to be some monster. Well, be like Jonathan.
A hand under her chin tilted her face up where she stared morosely into her adopted father's eyes as he said, letting her go "You are unique, Cynthia. Truly one of a kind, like my Jonathan. Do not feel so bad like you don't belong. Your place is by my side, and by Jonathan's. You know that yes?"
"Of course I do." She muttered out and Valentine clapped her on the shoulder "Excellent. Now, I want to show you something. Or should I say, someone."
Cynthia blinked in confusement and the man offered her his arm that she took, wondering just where he was taking her.
As soon as they materialized, Valentine strode forwards and Cynthia hastily shadowed his footsteps, following him down the corridor until he stopped by a door that she knew was a simple bedroom. She'd slept in there herself when she was younger and tired from training downstairs in the weapons gallery.
But as Valentine pushed the door open, she realized it wasn't unoccupied anymore. There was a woman lying there as if fast asleep and as the man took a step inside, walking over to her and checking her pulse for a moment before letting her arm fall to her side once more.
"Who is she?"
"Jocelyn." He simply said, stepping back from the woman. Cynthia blinked in surprise, a frown furrowing her brows and she asked curiously. "Your wife?"
"Ex wife. And yes, this is her."
Cynthia shook her head a little. "How long has she been here? I mean… I never recall you mentioning anything about her. If anything, you've been looking for her."
"And I found her" his smile was almost dark.
"Why did you knock her o-?" Cynthia started, but then realized, asking almost excitedly "did she have the Mortal Cup? Do you have it now?"
His tone was annoyed as he replied with "No. She did this to herself before I could get it out of her. No matter what I try, no matter what method or idea I have in mind, she just won't wake up. Becoming quite the nuisance."
"Then… where is the Cup?"
"She hid it well. Too well." He sounded cold, annoyed. Before Cynthia could ask anything else, he spoke once more, voice much lighter, thoughtful almost. "Do you know why I tell you such things, Cynthia? Or ever wonder?"
She nodded a little. "I have always wondered why you told me such things, but not your son."
"You remind me of Jocelyn when we were young." Valentine explained, walking over to the girl and gazing down at her. "She had a heart of fire, just like you. It's one of the many qualities about her that I loved so much. She was the only one I felt I could truly talk to about anything. My doubts, worries. Everything and anything because I loved and trusted her."
"And yet you still poisoned her and turned her away." Cynthia couldn't help saying, arching a brow sharply. "Like you poisoned me."
His reaction surprised Cynthia- he laughed a few times before saying. "But there is one difference, Cynthia; you are not scared of me. Not once have you held your tongue, always speaking your mind. I never treated you like Jonathan when you were younger because you reminded me so much of Jocelyn; and I knew that because you were so alike at times, you would leave if I did. I've learnt from my mistakes Cynthia, and don't intend to repeat them."
Cynthia had no idea just how she was similar to the flame headed woman lying before her with her eyes closed, and she didn't want to know really. At the back of her head, she suddenly understood just why Valentine had been stressed it seemed for the past week or so. It must have been around the time that he'd finally found his ex wife and bought her here.
"Does Jonathan know?" Cynthia asked now, nodding to the woman. Valentine nodded "He does. But refuses each time I ask if he wants to see his mother. He says that why should he want to see the woman that abandoned him?" he said no more on the matter. There was silence and Valentine just said "Years of planning, and the wheels of change are starting to roll, Cynthia. I'm asking you this only once; are you with me?"
Cynthia didn't even have to think about it as she nodded, saying in a strong voice "Always."
He smiled in satisfaction and nodded, clapping her on the shoulder before saying "You can head back home. You're done for the day."
Cynthia nodded a little and took a step back, casting a curious glance at the man as he pulled up a chair next to the woman. She raised a hand and twisted her ring, leaving in a flash.
-LightInYourNightmare-
Jonathan was in the training room, she could hear the crashes of metal. From the violence of hits, he was angry about something. She paused for a moment before walking towards the training room, the crashes growing louder with every single step.
Cynthia peered through the crack in the slightly open door at Jonathan as he threw a long blade that embedded itself into the wall opposite. He was panting heavily, white blonde hair plastered to his head with sweat. The black vest he was wearing was clinging to his back too. As he threw the last of the broadswords lying upon the floor, he just said under his breath, loud enough for Cynthia to hear "I know you're there. Come to watch the show?"
A sigh later and she pushed the door wide, asking "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong." The demon boy said coldly, walking over to the wall where Cynthia realized with a jolt every single piece of weaponry that was in that room was embedded there. From his Morgenstern blade to the smallest dagger, they were all there, quivering as if a light breeze was blowing through.
"Jonath-" Cynthia started but he more or less exploded, yelling at her with a black fury in his eyes "Go away Cynthia! Why won't you take the hint and leave?! You stupid, dumb little blonde bitch."
Cynthia arched a brow at that "Temper temper, Jonathan." Before she could react, Jonathan was at the wall, yanking his Morgenstern blade from it and Cynthia had to throw herself to the floor to avoid having her arm sliced off. "Jon-!" she snarled, ducking another swing and yanking the dagger from her boot, catching the boys wrist with a well placed blow and caused him to drop it, blood pooling in his palm as Cynthia forced him to the floor, pinning him down with his hands above his head.
"Calm… it." She panted out- the effort it was taking to hold him down was astronomical. When did he get so strong? Cynthia held on until he calmed down enough to say in a dull, emotionless voice "You're stronger than you look Cyn."
"I have to be with you pulling stunts like this." She breathed out, letting his hands go when she deemed him calm enough. "What are we going to do with you, hmm?" Cynthia asked softly, raising her hands and taking his face into them. She expected him to jolt away, but he didn't. Instead, he gazed up at her with midnight eyes impassable, saying as the pad of her thumb brushed across his bottom lip "I bet you're loving this. Making me look weak and easy to defeat."
"I hardly call having to cut your wrist up in an act of self defense as making you look weak." Cynthia laughed out weakly, glancing at his bleeding wrist with a frown. "Doesn't that hurt?"
"A bit. You only caught me a little. Nice aiming, by the way." He said grudgingly, cocking his head a little as he raised his uninjured hand and brushed a stray strand of hair from the girls' dark eyes. "I'm at your mercy Cynthia" Jonathan noted in amusement. "Do with me what you wish."
Cynthia scoffed at that, knowing she should be angry for him trying to kill her… but that was nothing new with the pair of them. So why should she? The girl didn't move and Jonathan snorted quietly "And at the last moment, you bottle it. How brave are you hmm?" Cynthia rolled her eyes, about to retort back when he flipped them over, a dark, playful grin about his face. "Lucky for you, I'm not a coward." Without even a second's hesitation, he leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to her lips.
Cynthia had thought that Jonathan was angry with her loving him and telling him that, that he didn't want anything to do with her. As she twined her arms around his neck, burying a hand into his white gold locks, she realized she was wrong. But then, her gut instincts were never wrong and she pulled away sharply, flipping them back over with his hands above his head once more.
"Nice try." She laughed breathlessly, sat atop his hips with her lips almost touching his own. Jonathan chuckled and shook his head "Don't you believe that I want you?"
"No, I don't." Cynthia smiled sweetly, letting his hands go and getting to her feet, realizing her cheeks were a dark red as she walked towards the door. Damn him. Jonathan got to his feet and just called after her "Just so you know- I think you're utterly gorgeous."
"Now you're just sweet talking." She laughed out, stopping dead, rolling her eyes up at the ceiling.
"Oh but it's working. Now, shut up and get over here right now. You owe me a kiss back."
Cynthia turned at his words, tutting out "it wouldn't hurt to throw some manners in there, hmm?"
"I did. I said 'now.'" Jonathan shrugged and Cynthia smirked broadly "you want to kiss me, you come over here."
"I'm not moving."
"Well neither am I." Cynthia just said, folding her arms and avoiding Jonathan's eyes and his knowing, almost arrogant smile. A few minuets later, as Jonathan predicted, Cynthia cracked first and groaned, half running over and crashing her lips to his own, forcing his back flat to the wall as he kissed her with a hungry passion back. Cynthia let her hands go to the hem of his vest, tugging it up over his head and dropping it onto the floor, running a hand up his hard stomach with soft, precise touches. Jonathan raised a hand and took hold of her hip, hitching her up onto his own while Cynthia assaulted his lips with her heated own, heart racing against her chest as a narrow strip of stomach from her rucked up shirt pressed against his own, a shiver of something, almost longing, shooting down her spine.
"I hate you so much" Cynthia hissed against his lips, pressing her stomach more to his bare lean own, ignoring the butterflies that only came out to play in her stomach whenever Jonathan was near. Jonathan laughed breathlessly against her lips at that "I hate you too."
"Hate me so much that you're kissing me?"
"Correct Cynthy." A pause and Jonathan switched them in a flash, pinning her arms down by her sides as his lips went to a spot under her ear, making her close her eyes and groan softly in contentment as they moved down to under her chin, muttering out "No more Jon." When he didn't stop, his hands letting her own go and traveling to the hem of her t-shirt, Cynthia put her foot down and pushed him away, feet hitting the floor.
His white blonde hair was wild and his usually pale face seemed flushed with color the same as hers. Jonathan chuckled and leaned down, picking up his vest. Cynthia had never noticed just how the Marks seemed so dark against his light skin. But they looked beautiful. There was a perfect soundless rune near his left collarbone and she found herself raising a finger, tracing its outline with a finger, his skin hot to the touch.
"You should visit your mother at least once Jonathan" she told him softly and the demon boy raised a hand as her own went to rest over his heart, pressing her palm to it to feel the rapid beat against her, stronger than anyone's else she had ever felt. Jonathan lay his hand atop her own as it rested there, leaning forwards to say quietly, defiantly "Never."
And with that, he took a step back and turned away, not looking back once as he strolled out of the room, leaving Cynthia stood there with her eyes following him.
There wasn't any going back now.