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All Things By A Law Divine

Chapters 21-25

Artist: Lady Koalart (who did an absolutely incredible job)

Beta: @jeanboulet

Pairings: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, various background pairings

Summary: Magnus had waited a long time for his soulmate to be born. Fate must have had a sick sense of humour, though, because after all these centuries, it had handed him a Shadowhunter. Magnus didn’t know who this Shadowhunter was, or how they could possibly be meant for each other, but he did know that this story wouldn't have a happy ending.

Alec also knew all about fate's sense of humour. He had known this his whole life. But the ground was coming up from under him and everything he knew was being turned on its head, systematically picked up and pulled apart and handed back to him looking nothing like it did before. Valentine was alive. His own parents had been members of the Circle. The Lightwoods’ grip on the Institute was slipping. And, through all this, his siblings had found their soulmates.

Alec had found Magnus. But that didn’t mean anything, did it?

Link to AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33515842/chapters/83272549

** I would really prefer you read it on AO3! **

This fic was created for the Shadowhunters Mini Bang 2021: Presented by the @malecdiscordserver

Chapter 21

This had quite possibly been the longest day of Magnus’s life. He was emotionally exhausted after all the ups and downs, the “Izzy’s getting exiled!”s and “Nevermind, Izzy’s saved!”s. He’d taken her out for a much needed drink after at his favourite bar and then portaled her home when she had one too many.

Now, finally back at his loft, all Magnus wanted to do was run a bath with bubbles and salts and maybe some candles. He peeled his jacket off and threw it on one of the couches before collapsing on it. Chairman Meow emerged from whatever hole he’d been hiding to mewl at his feet and cover his most expensive pair of pants in cat hair. Magnus picked him up to coo at him, scratching his chin.

In the end, it had all worked out. Isabelle was a free woman. The cup was back somewhere safe. Clary had finally been reunited with her mom, even if Jocelyn was in a deep slumber and had missed the reunion.

And Alec was either absolutely enraged about the Clave’s treatment of his sister or his parents had said something truly terrible before the trial or he was coming to terms with their being soulmates and that was why he’d been so coarse and huffy and unhappy when he’d come to deliver the news that Izzy was no longer facing the imminent demise of her Shadowhunter life. Magnus hoped it was the latter, or at least a combination of the three.

He peeked under his sleeve to check his soulmark, even though he’d told himself he’d try not to look until Alec had accepted their bond and told him it was okay. During the trial, it’d been the Clarity rune. Understandable that Alec would want to keep a clear head, to ignore whatever emotional turmoil he was in to save his sister. Magnus hadn’t looked at it since, but he did now.

Magnus stopped. Everything stopped.

Magnus was no expert in Shadowhunter runes. He’d grown more familiar over the years since his soulmark had turned into one, but he took whatever rune-naming test young shadowhunters in train did, he would almost definitely still fail. He knew the obvious: angelic power, parabatai, iratze.

And this. This one he definitely knew.

He’d always thought it was the most beautiful of their runes. All soft, curved lines. Two distinct shapes, almost flower-like, that met at the center and braided together into one. It was the soulbond rune. Where warlocks could activate the bond with a spell, other species had different methods of cementing the soulmate connection. For Shadowhunters, it was a rune, usually bestowed during the grandest of ceremonies, grander even than their weddings.

Magnus stared at it so long it started to blur into one big mess of really important lines. He was right, right? That was definitely the bonding rune?

Magnus was still in shock when he reached blindly for his phone with his other hand. He scrolled through his contacts until he found Alec. And then he stopped.

He didn’t know what this meant. Maybe Alec had agreed to an arranged marriage and this was just him saying goodbye to any potential of a soulmate. Maybe Alec was cursing the fact that soulmates were a thing at all, and wishing the bonding rune didn’t exist.

A knock at the door successfully halted his mind from coming up with anymore terrible alternatives, of which he was certain there were plenty.

Magnus rarely felt anxious about anything, but he felt it now as he crossed the room and placed his hand on the doorknob.

“Hey,” said Alexander Lightwood, standing in front of the door to Magnus’s loft. He sounded like he was here with a lot of urgency, enough urgency that someone was either dying or the world was imploding or Alec’s world, at least, was imploding. “Can I come in?”

Blinking, Magnus stepped aside to let him, just like he had the last time Alec had shown up announced. He watched Alec pace halfway across the room and then turn very quickly back to face him. Everything about him seemed to be in motion — his hands twisted, he bit his lip and released it over and over again, his leg bounced ever so subtly.

Magnus did his absolute best to summon his usual poise and flamboyancy. He put on his most sly smile, and said in his usual (at least when talking to Alec) flirty tone, “Did you think of an excuse this time?”

Alec frowned at him. “What?” he said, a little out of breath. Faster than Magnus could clarify that it was a callback to his last visit, Alec shook his head and said, “I needed to see you.”

It was so direct it caught Magnus off guard for a second. Usually Alec danced around anything that could possibly be construed as him having any kind of feelings for Magnus like it was his career. He was usually more awkward, and more nervous, and more uncertain. Alec wasn’t any of those things now.

“That’s...” Magnus floundered. He gestured to himself. “Well, here I am.”

Alec snorted. “Here you are.”

They stared at each other from across the room as silence dragged out. Magnus wasn’t sure what to say, not with the day he’d had and not while he was still spiraling from what he’d seen just before Alec showed up. Alec, for his part, seemed like he was searching Magnus’s face for something he was extremely determined to locate.

He must’ve found it because, very suddenly, Alec had crossed the room and Magnus was being kissed.

It took him a disappointingly long time to respond after he registered the fact that Alec was kissing him, but finally he did. He rested his hand on Alec’s cheek, felt the warmth of him, the presence. As far as kisses went, it was one of the most urgent Magnus had ever received. Yet it was also soft, gentle, like Alec wasn’t taking anything, was just meeting him halfway.

It was also the most intense kiss Magnus had ever received, because it wasn’t just a kiss. It was a kiss with his soulmate. He could feel that, their bond, far more settled than it had been the last and only time Magnus had felt it. A hundred different emotions flipped around inside him, all of them warm and happy and elated. If Magnus had thought a half-assed hug was spectacular, then this was earth shattering.

It was also ending way too soon, because Alec had pulled away to look at him. And there it was — the nerves and the uncertainty — more panicked than Alec had probably ever been in his presence.

“Oh, God,” Alec whispered while Magnus blinked at him. “I’m so sorry. I’m not— That was— Are you—”

“Alexander,” Magnus interrupted. He stroked his cheek with his thumb, holding him there before Alec pulled away completely and fled the scene like a frightened deer. “I’m really glad you did that.”

Alec frowned, searching his eyes to make sure he really meant that. They were so close that Magnus could still feel his breath on his face. “Yeah?” Alec murmured.

Magnus smiled. “Yeah.”

Alec grinned back in disbelief. He kissed him again, much less intensely and for much less time, sadly. Resting his forehead against Magnus’s, his hand resting on the back of his neck, Alec whispered, “I’m not crazy, right? This is real?”

Magnus put his hand over Alec’s and squeezed. He knew what he was trying to say. He pulled back enough to tug up his sleeve, which had already fallen down a bit during their kiss, and show Alec the rune on his wrist. “It’s real,” he reassured him.

Gently, Alec took his arm. He traced one of the winding figures and then the other and then the path between them. There was so much reverence in his touch, so much care, that it was almost overwhelming.

They were both a little teary-eyed, which was horribly embarrassing, so neither of them mentioned it.

Alec eventually let him go. He looked pained, running a hand down his face.

Not wanting to ruin the moment, Magnus hesitated to ask, “What happened?”

Alec shook his head with a deprecating laugh. “Too many things. Most of them sum to shitty parents.”

“Ah,” Magnus offered, unsurprised. He pulled his lip between his teeth, wondering if Alec would leave now that he’d done what he’d come here to do and probably had a million matters to attend to back at the Institute. Assuming all he’d come here to do was kiss Magnus senseless out of nowhere. Maybe they’d play cat and mouse for another few weeks until everything with Valentine settled and there was nothing else to do but figure out this thing between them.

Alec must’ve sensed his thoughts were taking a turn. Hesitantly, he met Magnus’s eyes and said, “Make me a drink and I’ll tell you about it?”

Magnus tried not to beam at him and give himself away, but failed horribly. He couldn’t find it in himself to care, anyway.

Chapter 22

Alec did his very best to not look at Magnus as he entered the briefing room and took a seat beside Isabelle. It was difficult, because Alec was standing at the head of the table by the displays, which everyone was staring at. Magnus smiled at him in greeting, perfectly cordial, and Alec was so flustered that he looked back at Magnus like he’d grown two heads. Magnus, for his part, seemed amused rather than offended.

Alec cleared his throat. “Right, well. Now that we’re all here. We’ve narrowed down the list of warlocks powerful enough to give Jocelyn the potion to these three.”

Magnus immediately leaned over the table, his hand half-raised, to interject, “Why is Ragnor Fell up there? He’s not more powerful than I am.”

Hodge waved him off while Alec, Jace, and Izzy shared looks. “Some would disagree. He is older than you.”

Alec tried not to look like he wanted to laugh, if only because Magnus had frowned at him in a ‘Can you believe this bullshit?’ kind of way. Under his breath, Magnus muttered, “Certainly not wiser.”

Clary, leaning against the table beside Jace, cut in to bring them back on track. “Who’s Ragnor Fell?”

“The former high warlock of London.” Jace patted her arm. It looked a bit condescending and Clary seemed to agree. She scowled at him. They must’ve had a fight. Or she’d realized that Jace was insufferable and was cutting her losses before they bonded and she was stuck with him for life.

“One of my oldest friends. Very prickly. Likes to keep to himself,” Magnus added, just for her. Alec didn’t understand why he was so fond of Clary. He was trying not to be displeased by it. Alec and Clary were making amends, anyway. They definitely weren’t friends, but they were tolerating each others’ presence for Jace’s sake, so there was that.

Hodge was starting to get impatient. He had the air of someone who had been trying to wrangle six rowdy children for long enough that it’d taken years off his life. “Focus, everyone. We just need to figure out which one of these warlocks had enough access to Jocelyn that they could create the potion for her without anyone discovering what they’d done.”

As soon as Magnus opened his mouth, Hodge looked like he wanted to cut him off. For once, though, Magnus was volunteering pertinent information and not some clever, unhelpful remark. “By the early nineties, Ragnor was a professor at the Shadowhunter Academy in Idris. I believe it was one of the Clave’s efforts to show off just how progressive they were while still jailing and executing Downworlders for inconsequential infractions against their beloved laws.”

“Isn’t that when my mother lived there?” Clary asked, ignoring the slight against the Clave. “Could he have made the potion for her?”

She jumped when Magnus clapped his hands. “The little bugger! That’s why he hasn’t responded to my fire messages!” he exclaimed. Then, to the rest of the room’s raised eyebrows, “Ever since Valentine began hunting warlocks, Ragnor’s been holed up in his secret country house just outside of London. For all I know, Ragnor suspected my fire message was a ploy by Valentine to lure him out of hiding. We’ll have to confront him face to face.”

Hodge startled, pointing a finger at him. “We? You’re going on this mission?

Magnus looked at him like he’d grown four heads. “Of course. I’m the only one Ragnor trusts.”

Before Hodge had the chance to object, Alec interrupted. “Great. Magnus, Jace, and Clary will pay this Ragnor guy a visit. Izzy, I need your help with something.”

“Me?” Izzy questioned, pointing at herself. Everyone else started clearing the room, but not before giving them confused looks. Magnus raised an eyebrow at Alec before he left, who waved him off as subtly as he could with his sister staring him into the floor.

Once everyone else was gone, Alec leaned against the table. “Mom and Dad are coming back tonight.”

“What? So soon?” Izzy was sufficiently concerned. “They just went back to Idris last night.”

Alec shrugged. “I got the portal order an hour ago.”

Isabelle sat with the news. She sighed. “Can’t be anything good. Is that what you needed my help with? Processing the news that our parents are coming to town? Alec, you’re a big boy. I have full faith in your ability to put on a brave face and face whatever awful shit they have to say about you rejecting the marriage.”

“That’s not it,” Alec replied, rolling his eyes. He didn’t question how Izzy knew what his father had asked of him, or how Alec had responded. It was Izzy. She always knew. Sometimes, Alec wondered if she was secretly a mind reader. “I need your help finishing these reports so that when they do get here, they don’t have anything to complain about.”

Izzy grumbled about it, like he knew she would, but ultimately took half of the outstanding reports. Lydia, though still acting head of the Institute, had delegated them to him. He got the sense she was delegating most things to him so that he would still feel like he was in charge, because she felt bad about taking over. She didn’t seem to want to be here anymore than they wanted her to be.

“So,” Isabelle started after working in silence for as long as she could stand. She leaned forward like they were conspiring over something. “Where were you last night?”

Alec froze. Instead of looking at her, he stared at the sentence he’d just abandoned writing. “What? What do you mean?”

“Last night,” Isabelle repeated slowly, like he was stupid. “Where were you? I was wasted, so I went by your room. You weren’t there. I waited a while, but you never showed up. Where were you?”

Isabelle had a habit of going straight to Alec’s room whenever she came home drunk. It was Alec’s fault for being too indulging. He’d help her take off her makeup, give her a glass of water, and let her cling to him until she fell asleep mumbling how he would have to go with her next time.

“Training,” Alec stumbled to say. “I was training. In the training room. Couldn’t sleep.”

Izzy flicked a hand at him, throwing her feet up on the table and leaning back in her chair. “No you weren’t,” she grinned. She turned back to her work. “But okay.”

Alec blinked. “That’s it? Just okay?”

Izzy shrugged. “It’s your business.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Alec demanded, reaching across the table to grab her hand. He made a show of checking her pulse and then her temperature. “Have you been possessed? Replaced by your doppelganger?”

“Ha, ha,” Izzy replied, shoving him away. She smoothed her hair. “I’m turning over a new leaf. Trying this new thing where I let you come to me, rather than forcing it out of you. Besides, you don’t seem as grumpy as usual. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

“Wow,” said Alec, genuinely taken aback. Then, because he was still a big brother who had a solemn duty to tease her whenever the opportunity arose, rare as those opportunities were, “Are you finally maturing, Iz? My little sister, becoming a respectable young woman. They really do grow up too fast.”

Izzy rolled her eyes, snorting. “Fuck off.”

They went back to their respective work, but it didn’t last long. Alec had just finished his next report when Jace and Clary returned. They looked grim.

Isabelle pulled her feet off the table and set down the tablet. “Who died?”

It was meant to be a joke to lighten the mood, they all knew, but Clary immediately teared up. Panic crept in, as slowly as dread, while Alec fixed his gaze on the door behind them. No one else was coming through.

Jace caught the terrified look on his face before he managed to hide it, thankfully, and hurried to say, “Ragnor did. The warlock. Magnus stayed with him. He was pretty upset, I don’t think he’ll be back for a while.”

Alec exhaled as subtly as he could, but the terrible feeling remained. It morphed from panic into pain, and he pulled out his phone while Clary filled them in on the rest of what had happened.

Are you okay?

He typed it out quickly, but hesitated before pressing send. Magnus probably wanted space. He would reach out himself if he wanted to talk to Alec, wouldn’t he? He didn’t need Alec bothering him when he was handling the death of one of his oldest friends. If he needed someone, it would be Catarina, the only other friend he’d had as long and been as close with as Ragnor.

Magnus had told him about Ragnor, the night he’d lent him the books. Catarina and Ragnor, the three of them a chaotic trio, and all the wild stories they had together. Alec tried to imagine how it must feel to lose him, to lose one of the very, very few people Magnus considered family. He thought it’d probably be like losing Izzy or Max.

If Alec lost Izzy, he’d want to talk to Magnus. More than Jace, who would be too much of a reminder and too deep in his own grief to be of any comfort.

He sent the text. Magnus could always just ignore it, anyway.

Chapter 23

Magnus had grown accustomed to losing the people he loved. It never hurt any less, but he moved on more quickly each time, learning how to carry them with him while going on with his life, like they would’ve wanted. During the war, he’d seen so much death he’d started to grow numb to it.

Ragnor, though. Ragnor was one of the only constants. An insufferable bastard who was always psychoanalyzing him, judging his taste in music, and holding him while he cried through his pain, even if Magnus had brought that pain on himself. He couldn’t hold him now.

He’d have to tell Catarina. He picked up his phone, but it felt like an impossible task.

He had a text from Alec, who had no doubt heard from Jace and Clary what had happened.

Magnus bit his lip, considering. He’d put Ragnor to rest outside his cottage, a burial spell he’d cast far too many times. Now, he sat in his living room, surrounded by Ragnor’s things, everything he couldn’t leave behind to collect dust and spider webs and wither away to time. He paged through one of them now, a photo album that had yellowed over the decades.

“How I loathe that photograph. I must remember chin down, eyes up, otherwise I look like a squinty toad,” came a withering voice from over his shoulder. Ragnor’s voice, as though he were really here and not just a ghost conjured by Magnus’s magic, unchecked in his grief.

“You’re here,” Magnus said, turning to him. Of course Ragnor wasn’t, but it was so real that he could’ve been.

Ragnor smirked, just as the real Ragnor would’ve. “You didn’t think you’d be rid of me that easily, did you? My dear friend, I will always be here for you.” He rested a gentle hand on Magnus’s cheek. Magnus couldn’t feel it, but he knew it was there. “Now please, put away that horrid photograph. It commemorates a night I’d rather forget. Oh, how I had to comfort you.”

Magnus released a breathy laugh. He traced his fingers over the photo, thinking back to Camille and the night he’d ended things with her. Sometimes it felt like it was just yesterday, but most times it felt like it was lifetimes ago.

“How I loved her,” he mused. “I prayed she would love me the same. She just laughed. To Camille, immortals aren’t supposed to feel true love. So cynical. She broke my heart.”

Ragnor leaned forward. “You let her break your heart, my friend,” he corrected. “You’re immortal, yet she all but killed you.”

Magnus hummed. He picked his drink up off the end table and took a long sip. He’d made it stronger than he should’ve, but he figured he was allowed to drown his sorrows for the night. “I think I’ve recovered quite well.”

“By building walls around your heart,” Ragnor admonished. “I’m glad to see someone is starting to tear them down.”

Magnus closed his eyes. “I’m sorry. I kept meaning to talk to you. To tell you about him. As soon as I realized he would be a Shadowhunter. Time just… slipped away from me. I thought that if it worked out, if he turned out not to be like the others and I didn’t have to break the bond, you might meet him some day.”

Ragnor rested a hand on his knee to comfort him. It was ghostly still, but now at least Magnus felt the comfort it was meant to offer. “I’m sure I would’ve loved him. If he loves you as much as you deserve, as I’m sure he must, then I would’ve loved him.”

Magnus’s lips quirked into an almost smile. He closed the album and set it aside. “It’s a bit early to say it’s love, I would think. And it’s all so new to him. I’ve had decades to come to terms with who my soulmate is. He’s had less than a month. He didn’t even know he had a soulmate.”

“Shadowhunters,” Ragnor said, offering a smile. “Nothing’s ever simple with them, is it?”

Magnus smiled back, however small. “No, it isn’t.”

Ragnor waited, and Magnus enjoyed his friend’s company, even if it was just a trick his magic was playing on him. He’d known Ragnor so well for so long that it’d even gotten the barely noticeable freckle by his ear and three errant beard hairs on his cheek right.

“I’m worried,” Magnus admitted eventually. “I’m worried he’s too upset to be thinking right and that once he’s gotten over what his parents did and the shock of realizing he has a soulmate at all, he’s going to realize he wishes that soulmate wasn’t me.”

“Did it seem like that was all it was?” Ragnor asked without judgement. “In that time you spent together, did it seem like he wasn’t thinking clearly?”

“No,” Magnus conceded. “Actually, it seemed like he was being more open and honest than he’d ever been in his life.”

Ragnor leaned back on the couch, waving a hand through the air. “There you have it, then. Sometimes a good thing is just a good thing, Magnus, and not another opportunity to be hurt.”

“You’re right,” Magnus sighed, because Ragnor usually was.

Ragnor gave him an expectant look, smiling fondly. He prodded, “Maybe it’s time you let yourself be vulnerable, too?”

Magnus took a sip of his drink. His phone sat on the end table. Eventually, he traded his drink for the phone. He turned it over in his palm, meeting Ragnor’s eyes for one, final time. “Even in death, you give the best advice, my dear friend.”

Ragnor quirked his lips up. “Be nice if you took it more than once every three hundred years.”

“But that would be too sensible,” Magnus argued. “And where’s the fun in that?”

“Ah, yes. You always were one for an adventure. I think you’ve found yourself one, here.”

“Yes,” Magnus agreed, turning his phone on. “Or, perhaps, a reason to settle down.”

Chapter 24

Alec really did give very good hugs, Magnus thought to himself. This might just have been the longest, tightest hug he’d ever received, and it didn’t seem to be ending anytime soon. He wasn’t complaining. It was quite different than one of Ragnor’s, but it was equally as nice.

“I’m okay,” he tried to say, but it was muffled by Alec’s shoulder.

Alec stopped hugging him to give him a very stern look, which had not been Magnus’s intention. Alec didn’t go very far, though, holding Magnus in place. “No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not,” Magnus agreed, touching his cheek. “But I will be. There’s more pressing things to attend to, anyway.”

“You don’t have to—”

“It’ll be a good distraction,” Magnus cut him off, pulling away. He fiddled with the buttons on his jacket, undoing the top one and then doing it back up. He cast his gaze to their surroundings.

They were in Alec’s bedroom, where Alec had brought him when he’d showed up on the Institute’s doorstep. It was both disappointing and exactly what he’d have expected. Practical, tidy, grey. There was, however, a stack of books on his nightstand that made Magnus smile and a picture of all the Lightwood children together at what looked like someone’s runing ceremony. Probably Isabelle’s, judging by their ages.

“We should go find the others. They’ll need to hear this. Contrary to what you might think, I didn’t just come here to cry all over you.”

It was meant to be a joke, but Alec didn’t laugh. He pulled Magnus into another quick hug, his head pressed into Magnus’s hair through all the gel and glitter. Surprisingly, none of it came off on Alec. Magnus did not think about how he would’ve looked if it had, or precisely what colour of glitter would suit his eyes best.

“It would’ve been fine if you had,” Alec murmured. Then he reluctantly let him go and crossed the room to open the door for Magnus. “Everyone’s in the ops centre.”

Alec led the way, thankfully, with the ease and sense of direction that only someone who’d lived in this labyrinth of poor décor their entire life could achieve. Magnus had been so relieved when Alec had met him at the door. He’d been bracing himself to have to navigate the maze once more to find him, or whatever room he said to meet him in. He’d nearly cried right then and there. Thankfully, he’d held out until they were safely behind Alec’s closed door.

When they went to the ops centre, Clary, Jace, and Isabelle all looked at him like they’d kicked his dog and were mentally playing rock-paper-scissors to decide who had to tell him. He rolled his eyes at the lot of them and wasted no time summoning the collection of knickknacks he’d found at Ragnor’s place. He didn’t want to hear their condolences, or have them dance awkwardly around him, not sure how to treat him. He gave his magic a bit of extra flair, just for good measure.

“I pulled every item of magical importance from Ragnor’s belongings, but I can’t determine which will lead to the Book of the White,” he announced.

They’d each immediately picked up something to investigate. Predictably, Alec and Jace both went for the weapons, while Isabelle admired a necklace. Clary scanned the contents and then snatched a bookmark that had been sat in the middle of the chaos.

“This bookmark,” she said, looking around the room at each of them. “I’ve seen it before. In the alternate dimension, you showed me a book of spells and this was in it. Must’ve been the Book of the White.”

“If that’s the case, we can use the bookmark to track the owner of the book,” Alec said. As soon as he had, Jace went to take it from her. Magnus intercepted.

He couldn’t help waving it in Jace’s face just to see the look of indignation it brought on. He didn’t try at all not to be patronizing as he pointed out, “Warlock tracking is stronger.”

Jace was annoyed. Magnus saw him give Alec a look of frustration, like somehow Magnus was his responsibility, or like he couldn’t believe this was someone Alec wanted to be with. It made Magnus wonder just how much Jace knew. Alec had mentioned that his siblings had kept pushing them together, including Jace, but not if he’d told them that it’d worked, or even whether they knew Alec felt the same, or if he just knew that Magnus was a massive flirt who’d taken an interest in Alec.

Focus, Magnus thought angrily to himself for about the billionth time since he’d met Alec. It was too easy to be distracted by him.

Magnus weaved his magic through the bookmark, closing his eyes. He immediately regretted that he had when he saw Camille’s screeching face on the backs of his eyelids.

The universe was mocking him. It had to be. Fate, his old friend, was playing tricks on him just when he was starting to think it’d been on his side all along.

He opened his eyes to a room full of expectant Shadowhunters. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat and set the bookmark down.

“Well,” he began, examining a very important speck of dust on the table. “There’s good news and bad news. The good news is I know the owner. The bad news is it’s Camille.”

“Camille?” Clary exclaimed, with appropriate horror.

He pursed his lips, nodding at her. “Looks like Raphael has her locked up in the basement of the Hôtel Du Mort.”

Clary inhaled very deeply. Contemplatively, she said, “After I punched her, there’s no way she’ll help me.”

Punched her? Magnus thought, while they carried on the conversation. Sweet little Biscuit? Camille was very punchable, but it usually took a minute before she’d infuriated anyone enough to go through with it. Just what had he missed?

Eventually, it was settled that they’d deal with it tomorrow. They dispersed to their various corners of the Institute. Magnus caught how Jace’s hand rested on the small of Clary’s back as they left and wondered if they’d finally sorted out whatever issues they’d been having.

That left just him and Alec, who had his arms folded and was staring intently at one of the spellbooks on the table. He looked so focused that Magnus almost didn’t want to disturb him. Magnus glanced at the title of the book, but it was in olde latin, at which he was a bit rusty. Something about illusions, he thought.

“Have you heard of the Diviner?” Alec asked suddenly, unfolding his arms.

Magnus raised an eyebrow. He gave it some thought. It was difficult without context. “No, I don’t think so.”

Immediately, Alec looked concerned. “Really? She’s a warlock.”

“I don’t know every warlock in the world, Alec,” Magnus informed him gently.

Alec brushed it off. “Of course not. But she lives in New York. It seemed like she was… prolific.”

Magnus frowned. “She must’ve just moved here, then. Why? Does she have something to do with Jocelyn?”

“No,” Alec said, cryptically. Ever the man of mystery, apparently. He promptly changed the subject. “My parents will be here soon.”

It was a very effective change in subject, because it immediately had every ounce of Magnus’s attention. And his concern. “Your parents? Here? Didn’t they just leave?”

Alec shrugged like it was no big deal, but there was a crease to his brow that said he thought there was something strange about it, too.

“Did they say why?” Magnus asked. He was already trying to decide whether this meant he should leave at once, make himself scarce around the Institute for a few hours, or grab the two of them and shake them really, really hard until they explained all this business with Alec’s soulmark.

Alec shook his head, biting his lip. He was nervous. The last time he’d seen them hadn’t gone well and they’d yet to patch things up since. Though, from what Magnus gathered about the typical Lightwood parenting style, it was possible he would’ve been nervous even if they hadn’t just had the worst fight of Alec’s life. Instilling fear and doubt in their children was second nature to them.

It drew forth the image of a much younger Maryse, soaked to the bone and holding her son like nothing else existed in the world but him. If she’d meant what she’d said, if nothing had really mattered but protecting him, Alec would have had a very different life.

“You might want to…” Alec trailed off. It was clear he didn’t want to ask Magnus to leave, but also that he didn’t want Magnus to have to face his mother. Today of all days, no less.

“Leave?” Magnus finished for him. Some of the anger he was feeling at Alec’s parents bled out into his voice, despite his best efforts. “Right. Wouldn’t want her to see a filthy Downworlder colluding with her precious children.”

He shouldn’t be taking this out on Alec, he knew. It was centuries of bottled contempt for Shadowhunter culture that Alec didn’t need to shoulder, and that Magnus had been working on overcoming ever since he’d met him. Some days it was harder than others, and no day was worse than today.

“Magnus,” Alec breathed. He stepped closer to put a hand on one of Magnus’s arms, which he’d crossed without realizing it. It was a comforting gesture, but Alec almost immediately withdrew it. Magnus looked up to frown at him, thinking someone else had probably entered the room, but it was just the two of them. Alec was frowning at his palm, discomfited, a little wide-eyed.

“What?” Magnus questioned, a bit unkindly. “Worried someone will see?”

Alec was taken aback, but he recovered quickly. He returned his hand to Magnus’s arm, who debated shrugging it off. “That’s not it. I was just surprised. You’re just feeling so much right now that I think it just… Leaked through? I felt some of it. I’m sorry. I don’t care what anyone thinks, I’m here for you.”

“Oh,” Magnus deflated. He was a terrible person. He felt much worse now. In fact, he might even be about to cry. He blinked rapidly. Then, when that didn’t work, subtly rubbed the tears away with his free hand. God, he was such a fucking mess. If Ragnor could see him now.

He’d told him to be vulnerable. Magnus thought he was definitely doing that, even if he was also being way too defensive to compensate for it. He certainly felt vulnerable. Ragnor probably hadn’t meant it like this, though.

Alec started to say something else, but was interrupted by the click of heels on the tiled floor. It was the only herald to Maryse’s presence. Magnus felt Alec hesitate before pulling his hand away again, but he wasn’t upset about it. Random shadowhunters in the Institute who might see and Maryse Lightwood, Alec’s mother, were two very different beasts.

“Alec,” Maryse greeted. Then, in a much less neutral tone, “Magnus Bane.”

“Maryse,” Magnus said. He didn’t unfold his arms, his lips pursed.

He expected her to purse her lips right back and look down her nose at him, make some snide comment or tell him to leave. She didn’t. Instead, she overlooked him entirely and focused on her son. He could see her take a deep breath, her hands clenched together. On her wrist, a thick band covered her soulmark. Magnus knew why. The hypocrite that she was.

“How are you?” she asked.

Alec, suspicious, replied, “I’m fine.”

“Good,” she nodded to herself. “It’s just me tonight. Your father had business to attend to.”

“Business being avoiding me or business like finding some nice, respectable woman to set me up with?” Alec snapped.

Magnus had never seen him lose his temper and had, since he met him, never thought he was the type to stand up to his parents. Alec let things slide. He made every accommodation necessary to make everyone around him comfortable. He respected their values enough to abide by them, even when he disagreed.

“I bet he yelled at them,” Isabelle had declared drunkenly at the bar after her trial. “Normal Alec would never, but Alec all righteous and angry and defending my honour totally would. I wish he’d stand up for himself, too, like he always does for us.”

Her wish had come true. Maryse was cowed. She looked away from Alec when she said, quietly, “I told him to drop all that, Alec. He’s not setting you up with anyone.”

“What?” Alec’s anger turned into disbelief so fast it must’ve given him whiplash. “You did?”

Maryse nodded slowly. She glanced at Magnus, then back at Alec. “You were right,” she told him, in a tone that made Magnus feel for the first time like he was an intruder rather than a provider of moral support. “It was convenient. But that’s not all it was, Alec. When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be here.”

Alec was quiet for a long time. Magnus could see the conflict on his face, but it was subtle, guarded. It sounded like it was about his arranged marriage, but Magnus wasn’t sure. Based on Alec’s expression, he had a feeling this was about the soulmark somehow, but Alec hadn’t mentioned that he’d said anything to her about it. Just that they’d fought about marriage and values and whether they gave a shit about their children, and that the second fight he’d had later with his father had been even worse.

“Is that why you came back?” Alec asked after a while. It was very quiet and very careful.

Again, Maryse glanced at Magnus. Quickly, then away. She stepped forward to rest her hand on her son’s shoulder, who tensed under her touch. Sadness crept into her expression, the sadness of a mother who loved her children and didn’t want to see them hurting.

“This is where I should be. Where my children are,” she said, as though it were that simple. She withdrew her hand, pulling herself together.

She looked at Magnus again, but this time she smiled, however forced. “Magnus. It’s good to see you. Thank you for everything you did for my daughter. You’ve been a good friend.”

Magnus waited until she’d left to frown, and then a moment longer to look at Alec. Alec looked equally as taken off guard as Magnus was. He shrugged at Magnus, who raised his eyebrows back.

“So,” Alec began with the air of someone desperately trying to change the subject. “Are you, um, staying or going back to the loft? If you didn’t want to be alone, I could… sleep on the couch. Or, if you did, then I could leave you alone and see you tomorrow, I guess, at the Du Mo—”

“Alec,” Magnus interrupted. He stepped closer to him. “You’re sweet to worry, but I really am fine.”

“I know that,” Alec acquiesced. “But can’t I worry anyway?”

Magnus released a surprised breath. He turned his lips in a smile. Checking quickly to make sure they were still alone, he leaned up to kiss him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Alec agreed, but he pulled him in for another hug before he let him leave.

Chapter 25

Alec found his mother in her office, or what used to be her office. It technically belonged to Lydia now, but most of the belongings on the desk were Alec’s. Maryse sat behind it, her chair turned around to face the stained-glass portrait of Raziel.

“I used to love this,” she said, after he’d hovered in the room for too long without saying anything. The door was closed and the fireplace was on, casting a warmth to the space that seemed out of place given the tension between them. “The Angel, bestowing upon us his greatest gift. A soulmate. Someone to ease the burden of all the trials he would have us face, to ensure we wouldn’t weather the storm alone.”

She paused. “The Clave’s twisted that now, of course. As they do everything. This rhetoric that Shadowhunters are only ever meant for each other, and only for someone of the opposite sex. That no other bond is possible. It’s not true, but with the way Clave covers up any other type of bond, it looks like it is, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” Alec agreed. He watched flames dance in the fireplace, climbing and falling, coming together and coming apart. Alec himself had certainly believed that was the truth. He bit his lip hard, debating whether he wanted to ask the question. He’d come here to talk. They couldn’t do that if he was scared to broach the subject. “You think Raziel blesses those other bonds?”

She turned around, just enough to look at him. “I’m trying to,” she told him. “Now, I’m trying.”

They both knew there had been a time where she hadn’t. A time where she had believed the opposite so intensely that she’d done the unspeakable. Alec couldn’t speak it, even now. It wasn’t only anger that stopped him, like he’d thought it would be. It was love, too. She was still his mother, no matter what she might have done, and he had always been certain that she would never accept him for who he was, if she knew. Yet here she was, seeming like she was trying to do just that.

It was bittersweet. He felt at war with himself. The dutiful son, who would always sacrifice himself and his happiness for the good of his family. The disillusioned soldier, who’d been burned too badly to still want to make a martyr of himself for a cause he was no longer sure he believed in.

Magnus had told him, the night Alec had confessed to what his mother had done, that he didn’t owe forgiveness or absolution to anyone. He thought of Izzy, when she’d curl up in his bed and tell him he should get to be happy too, playing with the bracelet she’d given him to soothe the phantom pain of a mark that should’ve always been there.

Alec was trying to believe them, but the picture they painted was simpler than reality. In reality, the mother Alec knew, who devoted herself to the Clave, didn’t seem like the same woman who’d burned the Circle rune into her neck. She had never been a great mother, never been warm or made sure her love felt unconditional, but she’d always done what she’d thought was best for them, even when it was misguided. In his anger, he wanted her to be a horrible monster who knew exactly what she was doing in putting her prejudice before her children. Outside of it, he knew that she was fallible, capable of making mistakes, and that that was what it’d been when she’d believed she was saving him.

If Alec was trying to change, was trying to be just a tiny bit selfish for once, then he wanted to believe that she could try, too. The pain hadn’t lessened any, and neither had the sting of the betrayal, but he was willing at least to try to understand.

He took a seat on the couch, close enough to feel the heat of the fire.

"What was it?" Alec asked.

Maryse looked pained when she answered, without hesitation, "A cat eye. The iris was gold."

Alec digested that for a moment. He’d never seen a soulmark with colour. He tried to imagine what it might've looked like. Then he tried to imagine hating anyone that wasn't a Shadowhunter so much that something so innocent was enough to condemn him. He tried to imagine the fear it must've taken to act on that. On that tiny, tiny suspicion that it didn't just mean his soulmate was a Shadowhunter who loved felines.

It wasn’t as difficult as it should have been. Alec understood fear. He knew better than most how their culture forced them to either cut away the pieces of themselves that didn’t fit or be an outcast. The pressure to conform was immense, so great that it warped everyone within it until they did. Until they lost sight of themselves, until they convinced themselves they were something they weren’t, until they let go of empathy and kindness so that all that was left was judgement and condemnation.

Sed lex dura lex. The law is hard, but it is the law. How many times had Alec heard those words? How many times had theyit been used to justify something terrible?

“If you hadn’t done it,” Alec hesitated to venture. “If you’d left it and found out for sure that my soulmate was a Downworlder… Would you have thought less of me? Would you have been ashamed of me?”

“Alec,” his mother exhaled. She blinked quickly. The pain was written on her face, her eyes a little wet, but it was hard to tell what was behind it. Guilt at knowing the answer was yes or anguish over him thinking that it ever could be. She shook her head, opening and closing her mouth as she worked out what to say. “I love you. Nothing will ever change that.”

Alec searched her face. “That’s not what I asked.”

Maryse bit her lip. She looked away. Finally, she admitted, “I don’t know. I don’t know how I would’ve felt about it, back then. But I do know how I feel about it now.” She gave him a teary smile, soft and affectionate, the rarest kind when it came to her. “My perfect son. If anyone tries to tell you that you’re less than because of who you love, don’t listen to them. Soulmates are a gift from the Angel, and He would never have given you one He didn’t believe was right.”

Alec turned his gaze back to the fireplace. He smiled, sad but still genuine. They’d never really talked about soulmates beyond that his siblings had them and he didn’t. An off-hand comment here and there. Izzy’s soulmate wouldn’t want someone so irresponsible. Jace’s would be lucky to have him. Max’s wouldn’t like him very much if he burned down the Institute, ‘accident’ or not. Neither of his parents had ever talked about theirs, or about what they thought of soulmates in general.

While they were being honest, it seemed like the time.

“Mom,” Alec began, as he’d wanted to for years. “What happened to your soulmate?”

He had always been curious about the thick band on her wrist, tight so that it rarely moved no matter what she was doing. By the time he was ten, he’d understood that it was covering her mark. From that, he’d understood that his parents weren’t soulmates. They must’ve died, or she must have never met them, if she’d married Robert and had Alec and his siblings. To the Clave, soulmates trumped everything. They wouldn’t bless a marriage that could jeopardize that, and his parents weren’t the type to go against the Clave’s wishes.

Maryse took a deep breath. If she was surprised at the shift in focus, she didn’t show it. She dropped her hand to touch her wristband, considering.

“Your father’s had passed away when we met. A hunt gone wrong when he was just sixteen. Mine was… more complicated. I had a feeling that it was someone I knew, but he was in love with someone else and I was focused on my career anyway. I always thought I’d have time to figure it out later, once I’d achieved what I wanted to. Then we joined the Circle, and not long after he was... gone. Robert was there. And then, so were you.”

“Gone?” Alec questioned. He wasn’t surprised that his parents hadn’t had some epic love story, or that they had probably only gotten married because Maryse had fallen pregnant.

It was clear Maryse was uncomfortable. She repeated, “Gone. It doesn’t really matter how. Whatever chance we’d had at being together, being bonded, it died.”

Alec mulled that over. “Even now?”

“Even now,” she affirmed. She stood, crossing the room to crouch in front of him. She brought one hand to his knee and the other to his cheek. There was nothing but grief in her face when she implored him, “I don’t want that for you, Alec, despite how it might seem. I was terrified, when I saw your mark. When I thought who it might lead to. I was still in the Circle. Everything around me told me it was something I needed to protect you from, that you would be damned if I didn’t. I really believed I was giving you your best chance.”

Alec cupped her hand where it still rested on his cheek. “I understand,” he told her, and was surprised to find he meant it. “And I’m trying to believe that’s changed. That you’ve changed. I think the wound is still too fresh for me to forgive you, but I want to. It’s going to take time.”

Maryse nodded. She dropped her hand, smiling at him through the tears she was trying not to shed. He wouldn’t have judged her if she had, but he thought she needed to cling to whatever was left of the visage of propriety she’d put on for as long as he remembered. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her cry before.

She moved to sit beside him on the couch. He let her pull him closer, until his head rested in the crook of her neck and her arms could wrap around him.

“I love you,” Maryse told him, for the second time. “I’m sorry I haven’t shown you that the way I should. I’m happy that, despite what I did, you still found him.”

“Even though he wouldn’t be your first choice?” Alec asked, trying to sound a little lighter.

“He wouldn’t have been my hundredth choice,” she laughed. “But it turns out I don’t always know what’s best for you. He’s growing on me, anyway.”

Alec squeezed her tight before letting her go. Subtly, he wiped his eyes. Unsubtly, she wiped hers.

“Thank you,” he whispered. She squeezed his hand.

He searched her eyes for another moment before he found the courage to ask, “And Dad?”

Maryse’s expression grew troubled, but she tried to hide it. “He’ll come around. I don’t think it’s just about you. He’s not in the best place right now. Things are complicated.”

Alec nodded, pursing his lips. “He cheated on you.”

Her eyes went wide. “He told you?”

“No,” Alec said, unable to keep the disdain from his voice. “I saw him at the conference in Idris last year.”

“Of course,” Maryse released a dry laugh through her wet tears. She swallowed, staring at a spot on the wall. “We’re getting a divorce. Please don’t tell your siblings yet. We’d like to be the ones to do it, once everything’s more settled.”

“I’m sorry,” he told her. “He’s an asshole.”

Maryse shook her head. “It wasn’t meant to be. We both knew that.”

“That doesn’t give him free reign to hurt you.”

“I’ve hurt him, too, Alec,” she told him gently. “Marriage is complicated. Even more so when you aren’t soulmates.”

Alec hesitated. He leaned his elbows on his knees, looking at the carpet when he asked, “Did he know? Or does he really think I don’t have a soulmate?”

“He saw your mark when you were born, but he was on a mission for Valentine when I… By the time he came back, the mark was gone. I told him it had just disappeared one night, that Raziel had changed his mind or something had happened to your soulmate. You didn’t have the mark of the dead like he did, but he believed they’d gone to another dimension, or disappeared somehow. Somewhere unreachable, so that your fate didn’t matter anymore.”

Maryse frowned before she continued. “I think he believed what he wanted to believe, because deep down he’d known, too, that it wasn’t a Shadowhunter.”

Alec exhaled shakily, processing.

“Do you think he’s changed?” he asked, even though he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

“I don’t know,” she told him honestly. “But if he hasn’t, he will. He loves you. You should’ve seen how excited he was to be a father.”

And what a great father he’s been, Alec thought but didn’t say, because he didn’t want to hurt her anymore than she was already.

He took a deep breath, and then kept breathing until he stopped having to think about it. Eventually, he turned his head to look at his mom again. “Don’t go back to Idris. Stay here, with us. Let Dad handle whatever mess is going on over there. It’s the least he can do.”

There were still tears on her face and her dress was all crinkled, but Alec had never thought she was stronger than in this moment. He reached out to take her hand, a peace offering. “Stay here, and we’ll try to fix all the shit that’s broken between us.”

Maryse squeezed his hand. “I’d like that.”

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