Valentine's Office
Valentine sat in his office chair and ran his hand through his hair. He took off his spectacles and leaned back in his chair as he rubbed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes. Prenuptial agreements sat on his desk, tossed carelessly to one side. Guest lists for the following night as well as security plans sat in front of him. He placed his spectacles back on and picked up his welcoming speech he had been working on. He reached for a red pen and began aggressively crossing out line after line. The pen snapped in his hand sending droplets of red ink across the papers on his desk. He made an irritated noise as he pushed the documents all out of the way. He stood and paced across the room. He reached for a book in his bookcase and opened the front cover. Within the book lay a photo of his and Jocelyn's wedding day. She wore a white traditional gown and he wore a dashing black tuxedo. They were young, she was only eighteen and he was nineteen. They were obviously in love and it was written all over their faces, the smiles that went from ear to ear. He trailed his fingertips across the picture.
June 25, 1988
Valentine adjusted his bowtie in the mirror. With his black tuxedo pants and white dress shirt already on, he looked rather dashing. He glanced at Michael's reflection in the mirror. Michael wore a similar tuxedo, the vest and dress jacket already on and buttoned. He ran his hand through his hair as he paced the room again.
"She's fine." Valentine said evenly as he took his vest out of the closet and slipped it on.
"I should be there." Michael muttered as he paced over to the window and gazed outside.
"No. You should be here. You're the best man." Michael and Valentine both shifted their gaze to the all too familiar firm voice. Valentine's father leaned leisurely against the doorway. He was a striking man with short perfectly styled dirty blonde hair. He was tall and well built. His charcoal suit jacket was unbuttoned, but with his vest on he still looked debonair; his hands were in his pockets casually. He had a cold hard expression, as always. His steel blue eyes were piercing as they fixed on Michael. Valentine quietly took his dress jacket out of the closet.
"Of course." Michael said softly as he walked over to the mirror and untied his bowtie for the tenth time.
"Have you prepared your speech?" Valentine's father questioned as he detached himself from the doorframe and sauntered into the room.
"Yes Sir." Michael said militantly with a nod as his fingers nervously shook and the bow once again looked awful. The man was not a friendly individual and his presence was always distressing. Valentine's father walked over to Michael with one eyebrow raised.
"I had rather thought you would have learned how to tie a bowtie by now." He said judgmentally as he approached Michael from behind. Michael turned hesitantly.
"It would appear not well Sir." He said with an uneasy chuckle as he nervously shifted his weight from foot to foot. Valentine's father shook his head slightly as he untied and retied the bow.
"There. I think everything is perfect now…" He said as he glanced to Valentine, whom nodded his head in his father's direction; his tuxedo perfectly straightened. Michael gave an uneasy smile and nod as well.
"…Shall we boys?" He said as he paced towards the door and buttoned his jacket. He didn't bother looking behind him to see if Valentine and Michael were following, it was certain they were. After a short silent walk through the church Valentine stood near the altar, Michael nervously shifting his weight beside him.
"Calm down, you look ridiculous." Valentine muttered under his breath. Michael didn't acknowledge Valentine as both their attention was quickly diverted to Lucian racing towards them down the aisle. He was wearing his black dress pants, and white dress shirt, but his bowtie was nowhere to be seen, the top button of his shirt was undone and his dress jacket was in hand.
"I had begun to think you forgot." Valentine jested as Lucian approached.
"I'm sorry, I'm not staying." He shot back abruptly, taking Valentine completely by surprise.
"What?" Valentine snapped harshly as he took a step forward. The outburst alerted his father who had been sitting in the front row, but was now standing and walking their way.
"Michael, it's Amatis. The baby's not coming, there's something wrong. They have to do a caesarean." Lucian rattled off as he reached for Michael's arm.
"You can both leave right after the ceremony." Lucian turned to see Mr. Morgenstern directly behind him, a firm look fixed on his face.
"I'm going now. She's my sister." He returned his gaze back to Michael expectantly. Michael's eyes shifted between Mr. Morgenstern and Lucian briefly.
"Michael?" Lucian asked urgently. Michael's gaze fixed on Lucian and he nodded.
"I'm coming." He took a step forward and Mr. Morgenstern's arm reached out and clamped down on his shoulder firmly.
"This is Valentine's wedding day. You belong here with the family. There's nothing you can do there." He said sharply. Michael swallowed hard.
"She's my wife." He pleaded.
"And I'm your father." He growled in a low voice. Though he had raised Michael from the time he was seven, he never referred to himself as his father, never called Michael his son. Michael looked temporarily taken aback.
"Michael I'm leaving now!" Lucian said franticly as he turned his eyes to Valentine.
"Tell Jocelyn I'm sorry." He said softly before he turned back.
"Lucian!" Valentine shouted as he took a step forward. His father put a hand against his chest and shook his head slightly before returning his gaze to Michael. Lucian never hesitated as he hurried back down the aisle.
"I'm sorry too." Michael tried to sidestep Mr. Morgenstern, but his hand was firm on his shoulder.
"This is your family Michael. This is your priority. Your place is here. If you leave this wedding, if you embarrass your brother, if you embarrass me…" He trailed off as he snarled under his breath through clenched teeth.
"No. This isn't my priority, not anymore…I'm sorry Valentine." He roughly shoved Mr. Morgenstern's arm from his shoulder and took off after Lucian, never turning back. He had never shown so much defiance before in his life. Valentine's eyes narrowed as he glared an ominous look in Michael's retreating direction and took a step forward. His father's hand was unyielding against his chest.
"Patients my boy. We won't soon forget about this." The smirk across his father's face was sinister and Valentine just smirked back as he calmly straightened his jacket and stood tall.
Valentine heard the sound of the secret passageway against the wall opening and furrowed his eyebrows as he quickly replaced the photo and the book. Very few people knew the code to enter through that door and aside from Jonathan; it was unlikely anybody else would enter without being summoned.
"Dear God." Valentine muttered as he narrowed his eyes at the white haired woman that appeared in the doorway.
"Now Valentine, I'm flattered really, but addressing me as mother will suffice." She said mockingly as she walked into the room. She held herself with an air of confidence and authority. She wore an expensive medium blue pencil skirt suit, her hands clasped behind her back. Valentine clasped his hands behind his back and clenched his teeth as he watched the entourage of guards trail her. She was tall and slender, but far from frail, and every gesture and mannerism emanated power and influence.
"Leave us!" She commanded firmly to the group of men that followed her into to room. She strode across the room and around the desk as there was a soft murmur among the guards. Several guards returned from the direction they had come. Starkweather and Valentine exchanged an ever so brief look as Starkweather and the remaining guards proceeded to exit the office through the door that led into the main hallway. She pushed the documents on the desk around, glancing at some and tossing others into the garbage. She snatched up one of the documents and started to examine it closer as both doors finally closed leaving Valentine and his mother alone.
"This speech is horrific." She said in almost an amused tone as she tossed that too into the trash and sat at the desk. Valentine clenched his hands into fists behind his back and tightened his jaw silently as he inhaled a deep breath slowly. She leaned forward in the chair with her arms crossed on the desk. She narrowed her eyes slightly as she looked up at Valentine and drummed her fingers impatiently on the desk. Valentine exhaled slowly as he paced over to the chair across the desk from her and sat hesitantly without a word, his hands clasped together in his lap. A silent minute passed.
"Why is it that you are completely incapable of attaining any level of obedience from Jonathan, yet you're so hellbent on retaining your daughter who has little to no interest in being here?" Valentine's mother asked sharply.
"Permission to speak candidly mother?" Valentine snarled tightly through clenched teeth.
"No." She stated firmly with a slight shake of her head. Valentine took a deep breath and clenched his hands into tight fists, but remained silent.
"Do you have any idea what that boy has been up to or have you been that preoccupied by this party and your daughter you've been unable to pay any attention to him at all?" It was quiet.
"That awful excuse for an attack on your daughter was executed by Jonathan…" Valentine furrowed his eyebrows skeptically at his mother.
"…Shocking isn't it? It appears he and Jace got off on the wrong foot yet again and he felt it necessary to prove a point. I find it completely ridiculous he burned an entire stable to the ground...Needless to say I was terribly disappointed when I learned of Agramon's death…" She shook her head and closed her eyes for a long moment before opening them.
"…You wanted that boy back; I told you to see to it he was obedient. If I didn't know better I might be inclined to believe you intentionally undermined my authority in an attempt to undue any progress I made while he was in my care. You've had Jonathan back in your charge for some two years and he's quite certainly nearly mutinous. I'm somewhat surprised you've both survived this long. I'll be seeing to the affairs here from now on. I'll also be giving the welcoming speech tomorrow evening…" Valentine's jaw clenched.
"…Jonathan will be twenty-one; it's time he assumed additional responsibility, perhaps a sense of purpose will help focus the boy a bit. He's obviously bored. At least giving him something meaningful to do will help keep him occupied. I'll make known the intent to our associates tomorrow evening that Jonathan will begin assuming authority over this area. You shall return to Chicago this weekend, and resume your previous responsibilities. I'll remain here to assure Jonathan has the supervision he needs and the adjustment period goes smoothly." Valentine's eyes narrowed as he glared at his mother.
"He's much too young and immature. He's not nearly ready." He snarled tightly.
"Neither were you…He's older than you were if I recall." He clenched his jaw in aggravation.
"I was married. I was settled. I was obedient." He snarled.
"You were married yes, but you were hardly settled or obedient. If you want the boy to be married, I assure you that can be arranged! Now, don't argue with me Valentine. I didn't ask for your opinion, I'm merely informing you of the course of action that I will be taking." She said sharply.
"Fine." He said tightly.
"The girl will be returned to the Lightwoods-" She began.
"No! She'll return to Chicago with me." Valentine snapped in an elevated tone as he shot out of his chair.
"Sit down Valentine and don't you dare raise your voice to me again..." She spat firmly as she smacked the palm of her hand against the desk. He took an exasperated breath as he sat.
"…It's quite clear you're well out of your realm here. You've had some two plus years to devise and execute a plan and you're still grasping at straws. You've gone from procrastinating to do anything to becoming impulsive and rash. You're not thinking clearly and it's blatantly obvious you have no idea what you're doing."
"I was observing her. I wasn't procrastinating. Perhaps if somebody cared to make me aware earlier that I had a daughter I would have had more time to devise a plan." He snarled coldly.
"Don't be so overdramatic Valentine. What would you have done with another small child anyway? You lost your son and you weren't even capable of raising Jonathan." Valentine glowered at his mother.
"I was perfectly capable of raising Jonathan, just apparently not to your standards. You took him from me when he was ten and proceeded to tell him I wasn't his father and I killed his mother. The boy didn't talk to me for nearly seven years!"
"You're not his father and you did kill his mother. Don't be so sensitive, you're starting to sound like Michael. You wanted a child and I gave you one. I had every right to take him away when it was quite clear you were inept at raising him. Then when I returned him to you you still weren't capable of handling him. Did you really think you would have had better luck with a girl over a boy?"
"That's not the point! Clarissa is my daughter, mine! I should have been made aware when you found out about her! You should have told me when you found out where Jocelyn was. I could have-" His mother rolled her eyes and shook her head as she cut him off.
"Stop living in the past Valentine. I know exactly where you're going with this and Jocelyn wouldn't have ever come back to you." Valentine growled slightly in the back of his throat.
"Clarissa stays and that's final. She's all I have left since you killed my wife." He snarled.
"She wasn't your wife! You were divorced. She left you! She fled. She left with another man whom she later went on to marry!" She snapped.
"I loved her and you killed her." He snarled.
"She was a distraction Valentine from the moment you learned where she lived, just like Clarissa, I should have arranged for that child to be in the car with her mother."
"You're talking about my daughter." Valentine growled back.
"Barely, she's no more your daughter than Jonathan is Michael's son!" She snapped back. Valentine narrowed his eyes at her again.
"Well nobody is banging down my door to claim either one." He snarled.
"Yet!...She poses more complications then benefits. Have you even thought this through at all? I've been informed that boy has the heart of a Herondale, he's completely unyielding. He won't just forget Clarissa is here. We had agreed she was to stay on her own accord, not forcefully. Had she any desire at all to be here that would be one thing, but it's clear she doesn't. Should he ask, I'm quite certain he's bound to get assistance, and I don't need the Herondales on my doorstep. Things have been less than pleasant since that messy incident last year. They've been looking for a reason to break the truce."
"It would be preposterous for them to attempt to fight me for my own daughter, and as for Jace, I in no way detained him at any time. I sent him away shortly before you arrived as a matter of fact." Valentine insisted. She crossed her arms over her chest.
"No, you didn't. I kept him for leverage." Valentine narrowed his eyes again.
"Why?" He snapped. The woman took an exasperated breath and intertwined her fingers together as she laid them on the desk in front of her and leaned forward.
"Don't concern yourself with my affairs…Did you honestly think that had he just walked off the property everybody would have been appeased?" Valentine shook his head.
"No. I honestly thought he'd return on his own accord. The Herondales can't hold me accountable for his actions." She nodded.
"Then what?..." She reached for the prenuptial agreements on the desk and held them up.
"…They get married and live here happily ever after?" He scowled at her.
"I was attempting to test the boy's obedience. He wasn't greatly resisting my efforts to remove him from the compound. He was to be watched for the next 24 hours and depending on his actions, he would have been invited back to the estate. Then yes, they were to be married." She raised her eyebrows at him.
"Why? Have you become bored? Not enough hostility of late? Perhaps just shooting William at the ball would have a similar negative reaction with the Herondales. Do tell me what is it you ultimately expected you'd gain from this gesture?" He took an exasperated breath.
"Don't concern yourself with my affairs…" He snapped just as she had a moment ago. She narrowed her eyes at him and he took another exasperated breath.
"…He's the heir of the estate it's an agreeable match..." She furrowed her eyebrows skeptically.
"…A union between the families may in fact lessen hostility." She furrowed her eyebrows further.
"A union followed by their imprisonment at the estate, yes Valentine, that's sure to lessen hostility." She said sarcastically. He scowled.
"I never forced him to stay here…" She crossed her arms on the desk and leaned foreword against them. She drummed her fingers against the desk impatiently.
"…Fine…" He took a deep breath and shook his head as he diverted his gaze slightly off to the side.
"…I'm not a fool mother…I did attempt repeatedly to get the boy to leave, he obstinately refused…" He returned his gaze to his mother.
"…I don't prefer he be here, but it seems futile to persist he and Clarissa be separated when they both seem so resolute to be together. However, if Jonathan kills him the Herondales will surely retaliate…I needed time to figure out what I was going to do about Jonathan." She snickered.
"So you admit you can't handle Jonathan?" He took an exasperated breath.
"I admit he's a handful at times." He sputtered.
"Have you considered eliminating him?" She said evenly. Valentine glared venomously at her.
"He's not just a pawn to me mother, I do very much consider him my son." He seethed.
"Just checking…If I recall, when Jonathan so chooses, he can be rather charming. Perhaps he could sway the girl's affection?" He cast her a murderous look.
"It's an illusion of charm at best mother. That boy's temper is worse than yours. He's destroyed every girl that's crossed his path if not literally, emotionally."
"If you want the girl here on her own accord, an illusion may be all you need to sway her feelings. My understanding is that he's quite taken with your daughter-" He cut her off abruptly.
"Let me put this clearly mother…I've buried more young women then I care to admit…I won't be burying my daughter next…Not to mention Clarissa'd never be happy with-" She quickly cut him off.
"Happy? Whatever has gotten into you? Since when are you the least bit concerned with somebody's happiness?" He took an exasperated breath as he scowled at her.
"I can't have her leaving me like her mother did…She's my daughter!" He snapped in an elevated tone. She narrowed her eyes ominously at him and he swallowed hard.
"I am trying to work with you Valentine, but you're wearing my patients thin…My decision at this time is the girl be removed from the property. Should she ultimately decide to return on her own volition we should discuss this further-" He interrupted.
"Please just let me keep her." He forced out under his breath between clenched teeth. A small smirk played on her lips as she leaned back in her chair.
"Oh Valentine…How rarely you say please…Fine..." She flourished her hand in the air.
"…You may keep your daughter, but I will decide how this arrangement will be most advantageous to me, and I'm disinclined to include Jace in any plans I devise." Valentine nodded slowly as he swallowed hard.
"Fine."
Clary's POV
It was almost 1:00. It had been close to an hour-and-a-half since Jace left and I was getting increasingly worried. I was all showered and ready. It was a little cooler today with the stormy weather, so I had opted for a pair of jeans, a white tank top, and flip flops. I had even taken the time to do my hair, leaving it down the way Jace likes it, and my make up. I hadn't noticed how many clothes were in the room, and a maid came in with even more clothes while I was doing my makeup. There were a lot more casual clothes this time, and I was happy to find simple jeans and tank tops.
I walked out of the suite and down the hallway. It was oddly quiet, nobody walking up or down the hallways. I wondered if everyone could be on their lunch breaks, or maybe it was just a quiet time of day. I looked at the priceless works of art. I might think I was in a museum if I didn't feel more like I was in prison. One more day; tomorrow it was all going to be over. At least I prayed it would all be over tomorrow. I found myself looking out the window. It was still gray outside, though the thunder and lightening had since passed, the rain looked like it was never going to stop. I knew why Valentine wanted us on the third floor, there was no way I'd risk jumping from this high, though for some reason I found myself wondering what would happen if I did. Would I survive the fall, break a leg, my neck? How long before somebody found me?
I wished Jace would come back soon. I should have gone with him. I didn't feel like it should have taken so long. He was just going to talk to Valentine. How long could they really talk for? I felt my heart racing. What if something went wrong? What if Valentine found out about last night? I heard the sound of running footsteps and I turned expecting to see Jace. Jonathan was running down the hallway towards me.
"What are you doing here? You aren't supposed to come on this wing!" I shouted at him. A few more strides and he stopped a couple feet from me and put his hands on his knees, obviously out of breath. He looked up at me breathing hard.
"Jace…is gone…He left." He staggered out between hard breaths. I felt my breath catch as my heart started to race.
"What do you mean?" He stood up straight and took a deep breath.
"He left Clary. He didn't say anything. He just got in his car and took off." He took another deep breath. I felt myself nearly hyperventilating. Where could he have possibly gone? Though I asked him to leave so many times yesterday I couldn't believe he left without telling me. I just couldn't believe he'd leave at all.
"He didn't say anything at all to you? He gave you no indication when he was coming back?" Jonathan shook his head.
"No. He looked like he was leaving in a hurry though and he had a small bag…" What did he have with him, what was in the bag?
"…He didn't say a word. I had to find you. I had to tell you. Did you want to try to go after him? I could drive." His breathing was starting to even out and he looked very sincere. Though this all seemed so contradictory to how he acted earlier.
"You don't even like Jace." I said hesitantly.
"Clary I was upset and rather caught off guard. I've had sometime to calm down. You're my sister. I just want you to be happy." I didn't know if I believed him. I found myself nodding my head slowly. Part of me was screaming that I shouldn't leave without Jace, he'd be back. Something came up and he'd be back for me. The other part of me was screaming to go after him. Could he really have left me here? I needed to see Michael. I needed to talk to Michael. Though, I knew if I headed down to the stables in the rain and road over to the manor right now, odds are I'd be painting a great big target on that manor house.
"No. I'll stay here. He'll be back. He has to come back." I absentmindedly registered I was still nodding. Jonathan looked at me quizzically.
"You sure? The way he took off I don't think he planned on coming back." Where did he go? I suddenly had a very horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. I didn't think Jace left at all. Michael was right, I should have made Jace leave; he would have been safe if he wasn't here. I had a feeling Valentine did something to him, locked him up somewhere. It sounded crazy, but for some reason it made more sense than the fact he left me alone here. He said he'd never leave me alone here, he said it so many times. I hope all he did was lock him up, god I didn't even want to think of what else he could have done to him. Michael warned me, he warned me what Valentine was capable of. I didn't listen, not really. I was selfish. I didn't really want Jace to leave me here alone. I should have taken Michael's warnings more seriously. I couldn't breath. I felt dizzy. I felt so dizzy all of a sudden. I held onto the window sill as I lowered myself to the ground. I've fainted enough times to know when I needed to lay down.
"Hey. Are you alright?" Jonathan quickly knelt by my side, a hand on my arm as I lowered myself to the ground. I lay with my back to the cool stone floor, my knees bent up, one arm bent over my face, and one that Jonathan was still holding onto. I closed my eyes. I knew if I stood up, I'd pass out for sure, I might still pass out anyway. My head was swimming. There was too much going on.
"Clary? You look really pale." Jonathan's voice sounded urgent as he shook me slightly. He draped my arm gently across my body. I felt a slight touch on my cheek and a hand on my forehead. After everything that had happened this morning, I normally would have been strongly opposed to Jonathan touching me in any way, let alone lifting me, but I was too dizzy and semi-confused to care right now. The only thing I could concentrate on was Jace. What have I done? Before I knew what was going on, in a swift movement, too swift, Jonathan was holding me bridal style. The motion was too fast, it was really the last straw before the darkness fully consumed me.
Jace's POV
I stood with my back up against the bars looking in the cell. A single cot for a bed, no pillow, a crappy blanket, and a half assed toilet. Nice. I glanced over my shoulder back at Sebastian. He lay on his cot staring at the ceiling with his legs stretched out and crossed, he arms under his head. How could he have been here since Tuesday? He was vague to say the least how he ended up here, but he looked pretty roughed up. When I asked what the hell they give you to eat in this place, all he did was laugh. Though he really hadn't talked to me all that much. I kept replaying my conversation with Valentine. I just knew Sebastian was here because of me and I felt a little bad about that. I heard footsteps and turned to look out of the cell, my hands on the bars. As the footsteps got closer I realized there were two people coming. One set of footsteps sounded heavier, like a man, while the other set was shorter and tapped more like a high heel shoe. I wasn't sure who I was hoping to see. Sebastian didn't even move, he just continued to stare at the ceiling. The tunnels leading up to the cells were dark, so it wasn't until the two were a few feet in front of the cell that I realized it was Starkweather and an older woman I didn't recognize at first. As she walked into the light, an involuntary shiver went through my entire body. This was the woman from my nightmares. I was having a little trouble grasping that she was real and not just a figment of my overactive imagination. She was dressed well, in a blue colored skirt suit, her hair pinned up tightly. The color of the skirt flooded back into my thoughts, she was the woman from the tunnel, the one that had ordered the guards be killed, the one that had ordered me be locked up down here. She had the blackest eyes, like looking into the eyes of a serpent. She was thin and tall, and though I knew she wasn't a young woman, her face didn't appear to have a single wrinkle. She looked as though not a day had passed since I'd seen her last. The memories, the nightmares, seemed to flood back over me. One word came to mind. Seraphina.
November 26, 1998
My father walked into the formal dinning room of the main estate, his hand gently on my shoulder guiding me. It was Thanksgiving, though I never remembered spending a Thanksgiving there before or after. I was dressed up in a pair of black dress pants with a sky blue button up long sleeve dress shirt. I had on a tie with black, gray, and blue swirls. I was wearing a dark gray sweater vest. My hair was cut short, too short, parted on the side and gelled down in such a way my curls were completely unnoticeable. I pulled at my collar several times. I hated wearing clothes like this. I glanced down at my black shoes shining back at me. I hated these stupid shoes.
"Stop fidgeting." My father muttered as he pulled my hand from my collar again.
"Don't break anything. Be polite, respectful. Speak only when spoken to. Don't talk back." My father muttered under his breath for the third time as we walked across the huge tastefully decorated room. Seraphina met us halfway across the floor two glasses of red wine in hand.
"I'm so happy you could come Michael." She gave my father a small smile as she offered him one of the glasses of wine. Though it looked more like she was baring her teeth, there was no warmth in her expression.
"So nice of you to invite us." He said in a measured voice as he took a glass from her.
"Jonathan." She cast me the same smile as she offered me the other glass of wine. Not that my father ever let me have wine before, but who was I to refuse.
"It's Jace by the way." I mumbled under my breath as I reached for the glass. My father cast me a quick look letting me know he was displeased. Seraphina's eyes narrowed at me.
"Oh is it now?" She said back sarcastically as my father furrowed his eyebrows at her and blocked my reaching hand.
"It's a nickname he likes…Perhaps something non-alcoholic would be more appropriate for a nine year old." He said lightly. She shrugged and turned around.
"There's something I wish to discuss with you before Valentine arrives." My father tensed noticeably.
"Valentine's coming?" He said with a slight touch of agitation clearly in his voice.
"Yes…and…he's bringing his son." She seemed to watch him carefully, as though she were judging his every reaction.
"Jace, go play." My father commanded abruptly, his eyes never turning to me. I furrowed my eyebrows at him.
"With what?" I asked sarcastically.
"Don't you dare sass your father." Seraphina snapped harshly.
"Don't talk to my son like that." My father spat back as he took a step in front of me.
"You need to teach him obedience, he needs discipline." My father never disciplined me, not really, besides sending me to my room, and occasionally yelling at me for something. Alright, I guess I did have my mouth washed out with soap a time or two. My father cast Seraphina a deadly glare before he turned to me and softened his face.
"Jace there's a huge library just down the hallway." I couldn't help but smile slightly. I loved reading. My father gestured towards the hallway on the right as he trailed off.
"Agatha, show the child to the library. Make sure he doesn't make a mess." Seraphina commanded. I cast her another glare. A middle aged woman that had been barely noticeable off to the side stepped out into the room.
"Yes Ma'am…Right this way child." My father gave me a gentle push and I reluctantly let her usher me out of the room, casting my father a weary look. I dragged my feet slightly then bent down to pretend to tie my shoelace. The woman didn't seem to notice as she continued to walk down the hallway.
"Valentine has a son? Why didn't anybody tell me? How old is the child?" I heard my father snap in frustration.
"I personally felt it was just ridiculous he didn't tell you sooner…though this is Valentine after all…He wasn't sure he could trust you…I'm sure we can…He has Jonathan back, it's been several years now…Valentine's been keeping his return a secret, he's fearful of something happening to the boy as you can imagine. I must ask that you keep this information to yourself, though most of the staff are aware, you aren't to speak to anybody besides Valentine or myself about the child. You know how to keep a secret Michael don't you?" Seraphina sounded sarcastic as she finished the ending. Agatha seemed to finally notice me missing and was hastily walking back towards me with her hands crossed over her chest and a scowl on her face. I just tried to ignore her and pretend I was still fiddling with my shoelace.
"Yeah. Ok." My father muttered.
"The word is Yes…Not Yeah Michael…I don't know why I'm surprised in the slightest that that child acts so insufferable…Really you could at least attempt to present yourself with a level of distinction…After everything I do, everything I've done for you over the years…I raised you like my own child and yet you act so unappreciative." She sounded so nasty.
"Come here child." Agatha said as she pulled me up off the ground. I rolled my eyes and sluggishly let her usher me down the hall, straining to hear the conversation in the dinning room.
"My apologies Ma'am." My father said with an obvious fake sweetness to his voice.
"Let me make this crystal clear Michael, you even think of breathing a word about this boy to Jocelyn and Lucian and I'll make sure Valentine knows he has a daughter and exactly where he can find her." Seraphina hissed. I could hear doors opening and closing in the hallway and I glanced over my shoulder to see some frumpy looking middle aged guy narrowing his eyes at me. I didn't catch any more of the conversation in the dining room as I walked into the library. I walked over to the bookshelves and pulled out a random book before plopping myself down on the couch. I wasn't even reading the book. Just sort of looked around the place, but that eerie Agatha woman kept staring at me. The door to the library opened and this kid walked in. He was about my size and age, dressed all formal like I was, ,but he had this crazy white hair and pitch black eyes.
"Agatha, get out!" He snapped like he owned the place.
"Jonathan, that's rude." She scolded and he took his glass, which looked like wine and just threw the contents at her. Red dripped all over her uniform and she looked completely taken aback.
"You're the help! Don't talk back to me! I said get out!" He snapped. The woman look appalled as she backed out of the library and just stood there in the hallway with the door wide open as this kid waltzed right into the room.
"You." He said as he pointed to me. I pointed to myself.
"Me?" I asked indignantly as I looked behind myself like somebody else might be in the room.
"Yes you imbecile. Who are you?" I furrowed my eyebrows as I stood up.
"I'm not an imbecile. Who do you think you are?" I snapped back.
"I'm Jonathan Morgenstern and I live here."
"Well I'm Jace Wayland and I live here too." Not that we lived in the castle, but we lived in the manor house on the same property.
"I think not. I don't recall being informed there were other children here." I rolled my eyes.
"Why do you talk like that?" He furrowed his eyebrows at me.
"You're a child of one of the help aren't you? You aren't to be in this room touching my things."
"I'm not the help...This is where I was told to go."
"You must be mistaken…If you're looking for direction I can tell you were to go." He said sarcastically. I furrowed my eyebrows further at him.
"This isn't your house you know. This is my grandmother's house. I'm Jace Wayland. My grandmother is Seraphina Wayland."
"Her name is Morgenstern not Wayland you idiot!"
"Whatever. Same difference." I muttered. He furrowed his eyebrows at me.
"That would make you my cousin…" He raised an eyebrow at me.
"…but, I don't have any cousins." Out of nowhere he picked up and threw a vase at me. I covered my head with my hands as I ducked. The vase shattered against the far wall behind me.
"Get out of my house you filthy ingrate! Who do you think you are telling people you're a Wayland?!" I quickly climbed over the couch to have a better barrier of protection.
"You almost hit me with that you psychotic old man!" I snapped as I dodged another vase being lobbed my way from across the room. The glass scattered on the floor. My father entered the library, but looked hesitant to advance. I stood on one side of the room somewhat hidden behind the couch. The other boy, Jonathan, stood on the other side of the room, a vase in each hand.
"OLD MAN! This hair is a highly desirable family trait! My father has this hair, my grandmother has this hair. It's Swiss you nitwit! You look like you have a severe case of jaundice! I've never seen so much damn yellow! Who has bizarre yellow eyes?" He threw another vase across the room.
"They're golden, practically angelic. You on the other hand have these crazy demon eyes! You act like you're possessed. You should probably arrange for an exorcism as soon as possible." Two more vases flew across the room.
"These eyes prove I'm part of this family and you're not! My father has these eyes, my grandmother-" I cut him off.
"Oh give it a rest. Why don't you just walk around with your pedigree tattooed to your forehead already?" I retorted sarcastically. An older man that looked quite a bit like the boy and Seraphina hurried into the library.
"Enough!" Seraphina commanded firmly as she took in the seen, pushing the other man and my father out of the way. A number of guards followed into the room. Seraphina snapped her fingers twice.
"Take these ill mannered children out of here." She commanded to the guards.
"If you touch my son Seraphina." My father seethed in a threatening voice as he quickly blocked the advancing guards.
"You'll what?" She goaded. She jerked her chin towards the two advancing guards. I had never seen my father fight before, I had little or no idea what he was capable of, but in short order the two advancing guards were bleeding and lying unconscious on the ground as were the four additional guards that advanced shortly thereafter. It was awesome to watch. My father held a small dagger in each hand he had at some point taken off the guards. His dress shirt was ripped and bloody, a slow trickle of blood from a long cut on his face dripped onto the wooden floor as well. I almost smiled knowing the blood would stain that intricate pattern on the wood floor. She put her hand up as additional guards advanced.
"Have you spent much time teaching your son to fight as you do Michael?" My father furrowed his eyebrows at Seraphina.
"No." He snarled.
"How about you Valentine?" Valentine smirked.
"Of course mother." She smiled as she nodded.
"The boys wish to fight, let them. The one left standing need not be punished for his actions; survival of the fittest." She smirked a wicked smirk. I was willing to take my chances against this pompous kid. I took a half a step foreword.
"I'm not pinning my son against his for your entertainment like a damn dog fight Seraphina!" My father growled. Seraphina shrugged indifferently.
"Fine, but he must be punished for his actions" My father took another step back and to the side blocking my view of Seraphina.
"Stay away from my son." He snarled.
"I really don't like you to speak to me so disrespectfully." I never saw what happened, but my father made a slight grunting noise as he stumbled back a step. He dropped the two daggers he had been holding and they both stuck into the wood floor vibrating slightly from side to side. He turned just enough for me to see the dagger that was protruding from his shoulder. I winced at the knowledge that this horrible woman must have thrown that knife at my father and impaled him with it. A moment later he made another grunting noise and dropped a small dagger to the ground. It too stuck in the floor and blood coated the blade as it wobbled back and forth. He moved just enough for me to see the dagger that was once sticking out of his shoulder was now gone.
"Consider his punishment paid. Leave my house Michael. Take that mouthy child with you. You'd be wise to teach him how to conduct himself in my presence, for next time he acts so unruly I will see the behavior is corrected." My father nodded his head.
"Yes Ma'am." He growled through clenched teeth. He took a number of steps back. He reached his hand out and clapped it down gently on the back of my neck as he ushered me forward. My dagger glare shifted from the other boy to Seraphina as we left the library and the residence.
July 21, 1999
My father cast a harsh glare in Seraphina's direction as she walked into the manor house.
"Jace, go to your room." My father snapped as he put the book of matches in his hand down on the table. I put my hands on my hips with a glare.
"You said-" I started, but my father cut me off with an ominous glare. I glared right back at him before I stormed out of the room, my birthday cake sat on the table, the candles not yet lit. I didn't go to my room as I had been instructed; I stayed in the hallway where I was still within earshot. I remembered this horrible woman from Thanksgiving. I'd be here if my father needed me.
"You weren't invited." My father snarled in Seraphina's direction. She let out with a slightly amused laugh.
"I don't have to be invited into my own house."
"Ha…ha…ha…I should try that one on you sometime."
"Don't push your luck boy." She snapped.
"What are you doing here?" He asked in an irritated tone.
"I have a job for you." She said nonchalantly.
"Give it to Agramon, he can do anything I can. I gave my notice; I'm done with this crap. I'm taking Jace and we're leaving. I'm sick of living in a prison. I'm sick of feeling like your slave. You can't control me anymore. I don't want your money. I don't want the estate. I don't want any of it." He snapped.
"He's not as good as you Michael. You know it's true. You're such a perfectionist. Plus, you can't just quit being a member of this family, that's just absurd. Don't you worry how that would adversely affect your little secret friends?"
"If you wanted to get to them I really doubt I could stop you just by doing what you want me to do. I really just think you haven't had a reason to bother with them yet. I'm sick of you blackmailing me. I'm done with you."
"I want something from you Michael, so I'm willing to make a deal. Tell me what you want?"
"All I want is for you to leave me alone."
"Fine. I'll leave you alone." I heard her footsteps retreating and the sound of the front door opening. I quickly snuck back down the hallway and to my room, carefully closing the door behind me. I hadn't realized the window was wide open or that there was somebody already in my room until it was too late. A hand was already over my mouth and I was roughly dragged through the window. Once outside I noticed several more men dressed in black. I was kicking and thrashing my arms hitting this guy anywhere I could. A couple more men rushed over to help this guy drag me across the yard. I bit the guy's hand and before I could even get out a single scream I had a cloth tied around my mouth. That horrible woman walked over towards me with a terribly unsettling grin on her face. At this point I had guards on either side of me holding me securely and another half a dozen guards stood behind me. My eyes were blazing and I was struggling fiercely. I wished she could hear all the things I was calling her, but that damn cloth in my mouth muted my string of profanities. A moment later my father climbed through my bedroom window.
"Let him go!" He yelled as he rushed towards us. The bright sunlight reflected off something shinny and my eyes automatically looked towards the long dagger in Seraphina's hand, the dagger was pointed right at me.
"Stop!" She snapped forcefully. My father froze. Seraphina brought the dagger towards me and cut a very thin line down one cheek slowly to just where the rag was on my face. I could feel the slow trickle of blood down my cheek. It hurt and my eyes burned, but I wasn't a baby, I wouldn't cry, I was still squirming and struggling to get free.
"Please." My father begged as he dropped to his knees. His eyes shined.
"He's not your son Michael." Seraphina turned her gaze to me. I knew Michael wasn't my biological father, but he was the only father I had ever known. She reached her empty hand out almost affectionately and brushed it over my head. I narrowed my eyes at her.
"Wouldn't you much rather be with your real father Jonathan?" I knew my biological father was dead. My eyes narrowed further as I mumbled into the cloth, I much rather you were with my real father bitch. Though I'm sure she couldn't understand me.
"NO!..." My father shouted.
"…I'll do whatever you want. Whatever you want." He pleaded. Seraphina returned her piercing gaze to my father.
"That wasn't so hard was it Michael?..." She said with a smirk.
"…Report to my office first thing tomorrow morning. We've only got some five months to prepare and I expect you'll need every minute of that time." She jerked her chin towards the two guards and they forcefully pushed me to the ground. I jumped up and ripped the cloth off his mouth and called her every name in the book. I was pretty sure my father would wash my mouth out with soap later, but right now I didn't care. Seraphina stalked towards me brandishing the dagger in her hand. I took a couple steps back as she approached and she smacked me hard across the face with her empty hand. My father never hit me. I was taken completely aback as I stopped my outburst and threw my hand to my red cheek.
"Ever speak to me that way again and I'll cut your tongue out child." She hissed. My eyes just narrowed further. She turned her gaze back to my father whom was cautiously approaching.
"Try to cross me again and I'll put this dagger through his tiny little heart." She turned on her heel and stormed back towards her horse with the eight guards following her.
I found my feet backing away from the bars as the woman approached me.
"Now Jonathan, based on that look on your face I'd almost think you remembered me." I glared at her as my feet kept backing up. I felt like a caged animal right now.
"It's Jace...And no matter how much I try to suppress your memory bitch it seems to haunt me…By the way Satan, who's running hell while you're here?" I said sarcastically. She cocked an eyebrow at me.
"You weren't funny as a child, you still aren't funny…And what did I tell you about that mouth of yours? Keep it up and I'll cut out your tongue." She held up a long dagger that I had no idea where she had just pulled it from and twirled it in her hand.
"Oh, how sweet, so you remember me too." I said sarcastically.
Michael's workshop
The silent alarm resonated through the workshop and Michael quickly rolled up the plans he had been examining. He tucked them under the table in a secret compartment and flipped it closed. He hadn't been expecting anybody. Thomas walked into the room.
"Thomas?" Michael asked with his eyebrows furrowed. The look on Thomas's face wasn't reassuring.
"It's Seraphina. She's here…" There was obvious concern in his voice. Michael took a deep breath and looked down in thought as he scratched the back of his neck. He had expected she might come for the party, but he couldn't be sure. Seraphina wasn't one to cater to anyone. She'd only attend if she felt she'd benefit from going.
"…And Michael…" He added hesitantly. Michael returned his gaze to Thomas.
"…Jace is missing." Michael quickly found the seat behind him almost as though his legs had failed him. He closed his eyes for a long moment before he opened them again.
"Tell her I'm here. Tell her you saw me on the property. She'll believe you." Thomas shook his head. It wouldn't be the first time he had done something to that effect, though last time Michael hadn't asked him to tell her. When Clary first showed up on the property when she was just a little girl Thomas had informed Seraphina. He was fearful for his life; Seraphina was a terribly scary woman. He had arranged for her to see Clary, had gotten Michael to leave the property by offering to watch the children for him. Seraphina was able to get what she wanted, not only did she see Clary with her own two eyes, but she took a few strands of Clary's hair, enough for a DNA test, enough to know for certain who Clary's parents were. Thomas tried to shake the thought of what had happened all those years ago. Michael might have forgiven him, but Thomas never forgave himself.
"No. She'll kill you Michael. She'll bring thirty guards. I'm sorry I can't do it." Michael shook his head.
"I don't think so. She has Jace. She wants to negotiate with me."
"Maybe she just wants to use him as bait." Thomas said still shaking his head. Michael took a deep breath.
"Well then, I guess it worked."
The Lightwood Home
Robert stood looking down at the simple text message for just a moment before the phone slipped from his hand and fell to the wood floor.
Your children need you Robby. No calls. Bring my will. -M
Maryse looked up from the vegetables she had been cutting and furrowed her eyebrows at her husband. He stood unmoving; he looked as though he had seen a ghost.
"Robert what's the matter?" He still stood still, frozen. Maryse dried her hands off on a hand towel and walked across the kitchen.
"What did that message say?" She asked as she reached for the phone. Robert snapped out of his state of shock and knocked her hand gently out of the way grabbing the phone first.
"Darling we have to go. Pack the bare essentials; we're leaving as soon as possible." He stumbled out of the room in a confused state.
"What? Why? Robert?' Maryse called several times after him, but he ignored her attempts as his mind wondered back in time.
February 16, 1990
Michael stood outback with Robert, both leaning up against the Lightwood home, each with a cigarette in hand. It was a cold evening and a light dusting of snow had already blanketed the ground.
"I don't know how long I'll be. You're sure this is alright?" Michael asked again. Robert nodded.
"Of course Michael…As always…But I don't like this, not one bit, I won't lie to you." Michael shook his head and took another long drag from his cigarette.
"I'll be fine." He said as he exhaled a white cloud of smoke out into the cold air. Robert shook his head.
"I don't believe you." Michael tapped his fingers nervously against the side of the house.
"It should just be a couple days, a week tops." Robert nodded, still looking unconvinced.
"We'll watch him as long as you need, you know that." Michael nodded as he took the last drag from his cigarette and dropped it to the ground.
"I should go before it gets any worse out." He reached his hand out to Robert for one last handshake. There were no more goodbyes, Jonathan and Alexander were already put down to bed and Maryse was already in bed as well. The handshake turned into both men pulling each other into a one armed pat on the back.
"Don't get yourself killed." Robert muttered with an uncomfortable laugh.
"I'll be back for my boy." Michael responded. It wasn't the first time he had left Jonathan with the Lightwoods, he'd done it before, always parting with the same goodbye, he just seemed more uncomfortable this time, and that wasn't the only thing that bothered Robert. As they pulled apart Robert held Michael's hand a moment longer.
"What do you want me to do with your will?" Michael had taken the time over the last few days to sit down with Robert and update his will, which really bothered Robert. He was concerned he was taking too much of a risk with whatever he was doing. Michael took a deep breath.
"Hold onto it for me Robby?" Robert nodded with furrowed eyebrows. Michael had previously asked Robert and Maryse to be the guardians of Jonathan if anything should happen to him, but being the official attorney of the Morgensterns, Robert knew all the other details of that will as well. He also knew that if anything were to happen to Michael, he shouldn't make Jonathan aware of the will until his twenty-first birthday, at which point his trust would be available to him. Making him aware of the will before that time would be counterproductive. Michael dropped his hand and walked away without another word. They never said goodbye, Michael always felt it was bad luck to say goodbye.
March 2, 1990
Maryse paced back and forth in the kitchen.
"Call them Robert." She snapped as she looked up at the clock again. The sun was slowly fading away and Robert had promised he would call today when he got home from work if he still hadn't heard from Michael. It had been two weeks since Michael left Jonathan with them, and Maryse was terribly concerned. Robert closed the newspaper slightly and glanced up at the clock. It was just around 7:30.
"Give him another hour." Robert said as he opened the paper again. Maryse stormed across the room, Alexander on her hip, Jonathan had already been put done to bed. Her hand came down on the paper scrunching it down. She glared at her husband as he looked back with surprise.
"It's been two weeks Robert, what do you honestly think the difference of an hour will make?" Robert had no interest in getting in an argument with his pregnant wife, so he reluctantly nodded and folded the newspaper. Robert smiled at Alexander, who was looking somewhat upset at this point and ruffled his hair.
"Hey buddy." He said affectionately. He stood up and placed a gentle kiss on his son's forehead before he padded down the hallway towards the office. He took a deep breath before he dialed the phone for the Morgenstern's residence.
"Hello." A masculine voice answered the phone.
"Mrs. Morgenstern if you please. This is Mr. Robert Lightwood." Robert said formally.
"Just a moment please." There was a long pause.
"Well good evening Robert. To what do I owe the pleasure of this phone call?" Mrs. Morgenstern's voice sounded confused.
"Mrs. Morgenstern…" Robert was one of a handful of people that could actually get away with addressing her by something other than Ma'am.
"…I'm actually looking for Michael as it were. Would you happen to know how I might reach him?"
"I could attempt to track him down. Is there a problem?" She still sounded somewhat confused.
"No. I just thought I would have heard from him by now. Do you happen to know if he's still on his business trip?"
"I can't say…Let me see if I can get a hold of him for you. Is there any message you'd like me to convey if I can reach him?"
"No. I was just concerned. He's never been gone for this long without checking in on Jonathan. Do you know when you heard from him last?"
"You know I don't recall. He doesn't keep in close contact with me when he travels. I could contact Valentine, perhaps he's heard from him."
"That's not really necessary. Could you just please let me know should you hear from him?"
"Of course." After a brief goodbye they both hung up the phone.
Robert had heard from Michael not an hour after getting off the phone with Seraphina. Michael picked up Jonathan the next morning, though he was in very poor shape when he arrived; he was covered with bruises from head to toe and he looked terribly thin. Robert had inquired what had happened to Michael, and he was vague to say the least, though Michael had requested that in the future if he were concerned he not contact Seraphina.
December 25, 1999 - 01:30
Robert was just lying down to bed, the presents finally under the tree, when he awoke to the sound of the phone ringing. He quickly grabbed the receiver, hoping in vain that Maryse hadn't been woken up.
"Who is it Robert?" She asked groggily.
"Hello?" Robert answered the phone.
"Hey Robby." Michael replied exhausted and solemn. Robert didn't recognize the voice at first.
"I'm sorry, who is this?"
"Wow, it's been that long huh?…It's Michael." The exhaustion and strain could be heard in his voice. Robert sat up in bed. It had been years since he heard from Michael.
"What's wrong? It's 1:30 in the morning."
"Yeah…Sorry it's so late…Do you still have my will?" Robert furrowed his eyebrows.
"Yeah. Why?" He answered very hesitantly.
"You're going to need it...Take care of my boy…Goodbye Robby." With that he just hung up the phone. It took a moment for what Michael to say to sink in.
"Michael…Michael…MICHAEL!" Robert shouted, but he just heard dial tone. The number wasn't listed on the caller ID, there was no way of calling Michael back. He knew better than to call Seraphina, last time he did that, he was pretty sure Michael paid dearly for it, even though he never came right out and told him what had actually happened.
December 25, 1999 – 08:00
Robert had tried to call Michael's home and any number he had for Michael, but he didn't reach him. He attempted to go back to sleep with little success; he had kept hoping Michael would call him back, but he never did. Seeing as he didn't even have Jonathan he couldn't very well take care of him. He felt the overwhelming need to find Jonathan. He might have spent the majority of his time the last several years teaching law at the university, but he was still considered a highly respected attorney and he was going to use that to his advantage. He pulled out Michael's will and quickly detached the note. Michael's will hadn't been updated in years, but he hoped this was what Michael was trying to convey when he called. The note was brief.
Should anything happen to me, immediately contact Chief Imogen Herondale with the New York City Police Department; she's Jonathan's grandmother, Stephen's mother. Hopefully she'll help you if you have any trouble with Seraphina.
That was some ten years ago and Robert never heard from Michael again. There was always a question in the very back of Robert's mind if Michael was truly dead, but perhaps in any instance where no body is recovered; it's a question that always lingers. Robert felt the overwhelming urge to once again follow Michael's instructions and found himself looking up the number for the New York City Police Department. Over the last ten years Imogen had gone from Chief to Commissioner. After a long automated system and ultimately leaving a message with a receptionist, Robert quickly packed a small bag. It wasn't ten minutes later the phone range again.
"Hello?" Robert answered quickly.
"Robert…This is Commissioner Imogen Herondale…You called."
"I did, but to tell you the truth, you're going to think I'm crazy when I tell you why." He answered hastily. Maryse was looking at Robert quizzically as she shoved a number of garments into a small bag.
"I wouldn't be so sure Robert…Ironically, I was just debating calling you…"
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