I do not own the Mortal Instruments.

2. Braving a New World

Amelia Whitlock had sat at her new desk all afternoon, scribbling short sentences into a lined notebook. Valentine had retold the story to her after she'd met him. At first, she didn't believe him, she couldn't. No one in their right mind would ever believe a story so extreme and erratic. But eventually, after what seemed like hours of arguing against him, she began to really think about her life.

All these events fitted perfectly into her life. Her adoptive parents said she had been abandoned as a baby down an empty alleyway with only a blanket with her name on to keep her warm. There had been no record of her and no 'missing' posters had ever arisen.

Amelia assumed that her real parents were utter scums of the Earth. They had left a baby to defend itself in the cold. But then as she grew up, she was diagnosed with Multiple Personality Disorder. At random times she could feel herself shaking in anger. It took years of therapy and anger management to restrain herself from lashing out every time this happened. She would also see shadows and, as Valentine said, glimpses of this world from the corner of her eye but she could never be sure what it was that would run past her so quickly.

It took Amelia a long time to come to terms with the truth and after that, they asked her if she needed anything. She told them she wanted to be left alone for a little bit with a notebook and pen. They provided her with exactly that.

And now, Amelia was sitting at the desk in Jonathan's room, trying to write down every one of her racing thoughts. This was a method recommended by her anger management assistant; writing down all her angry thoughts and feelings to stop them from coming out through her mouth and fists.

Her wrist was aching before she threw down her pen and glanced at the scrawls across the page.

This isn't possible. I can't be in the book. I'm literally sitting right now in Jonathan Morgenstern's room. He's as beautiful and as intimidating as Cassandra Clare described. I didn't believe it at first but, it all really makes sense now. Part of a demon's soul, living inside of me. I guess that explains why I get so angry all the time. It explains why I switch moods so suddenly and how murderous I feel sometimes. Those awful things I picture in my head. In a way I'm glad that it's not my fault but I'm scared. I'm scared of dying. I don't want to die yet. I still have so much in my life to do, so much to experience. Valentine said that Jonathan could help me control the Greater Demon but, from the Mortal Instruments, I can't trust either of them. I don't know what I'm going to do.

"Beautiful and intimidating?" Jonathan said, his voice coming from right behind Amelia. She stood up hastily and shut the notebook, keeping it behind her back. It was lucky she hadn't been on the next few pages, they revealed too much about her knowledge of the future.

"Um, you shouldn't… you shouldn't be reading over my shoulder like that," she stuttered, avoiding his dark eyes. They stared right at her like she was a tiny mouse and he was the vulture.

"Why not? Have you been writing dirty things about me?" he smirked, knowing he was making her blush.

She shook her head and stepped out sideways so that she wasn't trapped between him and a desk. "No. I don't appreciate people reading my diary."

"If you had said it was going to be a diary, I would've given you a better book,"

"It's fine…" she mumbled, suddenly very aware that she was still only dressed in the clothes she arrived in. She was wearing a plain grey t-shirt and some loose dark blue leggings. She hugged her arms around herself, keeping her diary tucked under her arms. "Did… did you need something?"

"Yes actually. It's time for dinner." His eyes raked over her. "But you'd better change into something nicer," Jonathan stepped aside and gestured the exit. Amelia walked out of his room and he put his hand on the small of her back, guiding her down the hall way into another bedroom. He pulled open the indoor closet and she saw that it was lined with women clothing. "It probably won't fit, but you'll find something, I'm sure."

She nodded and began to sift through the hordes of elegant dresses and sophisticated clothing. Then she pulled out a flowy white summer dress. Amelia looked to Jonathan for approval but he had already left. She didn't even hear the door close.

When she arrived downstairs, she followed the dim glowing light into the dining room where Valentine and Jonathan had already sat down. Valentine sat at the end of the table with Jonathan beside him. She took a seat opposite Jonathan and began to cut her food into smaller bite-size pieces.

Amelia tried her best to chew and swallow quietly, the utter silence in the room unnerved her but to Jonathan and Valentine it was the norm.

"So, Amelia," Valentine started, setting down his cutlery. "Since you'll be accommodating with us, I have a few ground rules and also a schedule for you."

"Schedule...?" Amelia repeated quietly.

He continued on, ignoring her, "Rule one is respect. I expect that you treat Jonathan and I with the utmost respect. We are, after all, Shadowhunters and you're merely half a mundane and half a demon." Amelia bit the inside of her cheek. She disliked the way he pronounced his words when he called her mundane and demon however she was determined to stay on their good side. "Rule two, obedience. When I ask you to complete a task, I expect the task to be completed promptly and without failure. And rule three, loyalty. Amelia, if you ever betray me, there will be grave consequences, I assure you. The Clave do not take kindly to demons."

"Sir, you don't need to threaten me," Amelia said to him, unable to hold her tongue any longer. "I'm not planning on betraying you... I know how it'll end,"

At this, Valentine smiled. Well, his mouth twisted upwards into what Amelia could only assumed was a smile, "Well then I'm sure I won't have to remind you of my rules again in the future, if that is the case,"

"No, sir," she replied. "Um, did you also mention a schedule?"

"Ah, yes, I did. As I explained earlier, now that you're back where you belong, the Greater Demon will become less and less dormant and you'll need proper training if you're going to keep it under control." Valentine turned to Jonathan. "My son will teach you exactly how to tame your demon."

Jonathan didn't speak or even smile at Amelia. He glanced at his father, remembering the endless whips to his back whilst he grew up. He remembered his father saying those exact words to him as well, telling him that the pain was necessary to tame his demon too.

Amelia pressed her lips into a tight line, her thoughts running wild again. She needed to figure out a plan. On one hand, she was grateful that they were going to help her, even if it was probably for their benefit more than her own. But on the other hand, she was petrified. Cassandra Clare had written about how ruthless and brutal Jonathan was but so far, he had been just another boy that Amelia had met. She was afraid that the more time she spent here with them, the less Clary and Jace would trust her when she would need their help.

Valentine had called for the maids to clear the table. Then, Valentine stood up and looked over to Amelia, "Your training will begin in 1 hour."

"I'm starting tonight?!" she exclaimed, but regretted speaking out loud immediately.

"There's nothing else for you to be doing, so I don't see the problem," Valentine said, his expression was hard and unreadable.

"N-No... I guess not,"

Valentine excused himself and left.

"I'll meet you in the courtyard in an hour. Don't be late." Jonathan said, leaving Amelia to her thoughts at the table.

She sat by herself, her heart pounding in her chest. Training. Amelia had never been very fond of violent sports. She'd grown up practicing ballet once a week and attending dance classes at school. She began to panic slightly, her chair making an ugly noise as it scraped back against the floor. She rushed upstairs, walking straight to, what she assumed was, Jocelyn's room. She picked up her notebook, flipping through to a new, blank page and writing down more of what she could remember from the books. She sighed, knowing that she needed to ensure that no one else read this book. But how? It didn't have a lock. And even then, they had a Rune to unlock things. Amelia needed to be clever with this. And with that, her pen began to race across the page again.

A/N - I'm awful at updates. Sorry! Thank you for the lovely reviews :) I hope to make this a short story but if it gets quite popular then I will try to extend it... Thank you again for reading! Review please!